In the Convent Cell.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 29, Issue 36, 11 May 1917, Page 2

In the Convent Cell.

— JJFB AS IT IS LIVED BY WOMEN WHO HAVE RENOUNCED THE WORLD FOR THE CLOISTER. It is midnight. A bell rings. Its tinkle has a strident sound as it echoes through the deserted corridors of the convent. Suddenly the ghostly stillness of the night is broken by the hasty opening of doors, the pit-a-pat of slippered feet on uncarpeted boards, and the swishing of rosaries, as the nuns hasten to the chapel for midnight orisons. The church is oppressively silent. There are dim, dancing shadows beyond the feeble rays of the sanctury lamp as it flickers before the altar. It is cold, and the nuns’ voices quaver as they pray or chant their prayers. After all, a nun is only a woman, with all a woman’s fears of darkness and solitude. Then they file back to their comfortless cells, and resume their broken slumbers until the Angelas bell rings at six o’clock for matins. But convent beds are not conductive to slothful rest. In some of the strictest Orders they are a mere travesty of the name. The nuns of the Order of Poor Clares, for instance, sleep on an inclined board. If ill, they are allowed a mattress and a pillow. The Car-

melltes sleep on a bed eighteen inches wide ; but they are permitted to use a straw mattress. In other Orders, where the “mortifications,” as these bodily penances are termed, are not insisted upon to any appreciable extent, the nun’s bed is a pallet, two blankets, and a pillow. Sheets are very rarely allowed. Discipline is wielded with an iron rod in conventual life. A nunnery is not the place for a girl with a mind of her own. She must sink her individuality,and resign herself to the voice of authority. One of the three vows which every nun must take is obedience, and obedience is the bond of rule.

To a young, high-spirited girl the due observance of many practices and penances must be a sore trial at the beginning. It needs a strong vocation for the life of a religieuse to resist, the temptation to fly back to the world of nice young men, books, theatres, and pleasure of every description. Yet it is a remarkable fact that the girls who have lived in a veritable vortex of gaiety often become the most austere and saintly

nuns. The church demands supreme sacrifices from its vestals. Home, kindred, friends, everything, in fact, must be ruthlessly cast aside. It is all or nothing. But a postulant, or novice, has at least two years of preparation before she is called upon to make her solemn vows of profession. If her religious ardour survives the noviceship, with its numerous trials and tribulations, its fastings and penances, her vocation is genuine enough and she enters the Sisterhood for ever and aye.

Many girls leave before taking their final vows. But they are the fickleminded, who flirt with austerity as a new novelty, and retreat when they find that a nun’s life is not quite so picturesque as they imagined. It is certainly galling for a talkative girl to preserve absolute silence for hours at a time ; yet silence is one of the principal “mortifications.” It is either simple or solemn. Simple silence carries no obligation beyond unnecessary conversation ; but solemn silence commences at Compline, which is held at nine p.m., and is the last service of the day, and continues until eight a.m. next morning. Solemn silence must not be broken in any circumstances, with the exception, of course, of the usual reservations, such as illness, fire, and other serious contingencies.

Perhaps the greatest trouble which the young* nun has to struggle with is the apparent absence of all human feeling and feminine sympathy in the regulations governing the life of the nuns. Frivolous books or novels are forbidden, and newspapers are positively prohibited. News from the outer world only filters through by means of letters and visitors.

Nuns are very rarely allowed to see their friends, and only at certain specified periods are visits from blood relations permitted. In special circumstances, however, exceptions are made ; but in a few of the stricter Orders, where., the nuns are lost to the world in every sense of the word, they only interview visitors from behind a grille, which is a grating either latticed or covered with perforated zinc. The nun stands behind this and speaks to her friends. In one particular Order the nuns veil their faces before they approach the grille. They may raise or remove the veil for female relatives, but the only men privileged to catch a fleeting glimpse of their faces are fathers or brothers.

The nuns of the Order of Briggitines are continually reminded of their last end by the presence of a bier at the entrance to the convent church. Every day, too, they walk in procession to an open grave, where! they sing the most solemn hymn, the “De Profundis.”

Yet, in spite of the fact that a nun’s life is undoubtedly a hard one, there is never any lack of girls anxious to become postulants—that is, candidate nuns. In fact, the competition is quite keen. Only very welleducated girls of good family have the slightest chance of obtaining admission to a convent.

As most convents are self-support-ing, a "dowry” is essential. In some cases £SOO is the irreducible minimum. If, however, a girl has exceptional qualifications, the monetary regulation is waived. Teachers are welcomed in the Orders which specialise in teaching, and nurses are greeted with open arms in the Order of the Sisters of Mercy, the noblest and greatest of the many Orders.