As Mary again gave way to hope, her mind was more disengaged; and her thoughts were employed about the objects around her.

She visited several convents, and found that solitude only eradicates some passions, to give strength to others; the most baneful ones.  She saw that religion does not consist in ceremonies; and that many prayers may fall from the lips without purifying the heart.

They who imagine they can be religious without governing their tempers, or exercising benevolence in its most extensive sense, must certainly allow, that their religious duties are only practiced from selfish principles; how then can they be called good?  The pattern of all goodness went about doing good.  Wrapped up in themselves, the nuns only thought of inferior gratifications.  And a number of intrigues were carried on to accelerate certain points on which their hearts were fixed: 

Such as obtaining offices of trust or authority; or avoiding those that were servile or laborious.  In short, when they could be neither wives nor mothers, they aimed at being superiors, and became the most selfish creatures in the world:  the passions that were curbed gave strength to the appetites, or to those mean passions which only tend to provide for the gratification of them.  Was this seclusion from the world? or did they conquer its vanities or avoid its vexations?

In these abodes the unhappy individual, who, in the first paroxysm of grief flies to them for refuge, finds too late she took a wrong step.  The same warmth which determined her will make her repent; and sorrow, the rust of the mind, will never have a chance of being rubbed off by sensible conversation, or new-born affections of the heart.

She will find that those affections that have once been called forth and strengthened by exercise, are only smothered, not killed, by disappointment; and that in one form or other discontent will corrode the heart, and produce those maladies of the imagination, for which there is no specific.

The community at large Mary disliked; but pitied many of them whose private distresses she was informed of; and to pity and relieve were the same things with her.

The exercise of her various virtues gave vigor to her genius, and dignity to her mind; she was sometimes inconsiderate, and violent; but never mean or cunning.

CHAP.  XIV.

The Portuguese are certainly the most uncivilized nation in Europe.  Dr. Johnson would have said, “They have the least mind.”.  And can such serve their Creator in spirit and in truth?  No, the gross ritual of Romish ceremonies is all they can comprehend:  they can do penance, but not conquer their revenge, or lust.  Religion, or love, has never humanized their hearts; they want the vital part; the mere body worships.  Taste is unknown; Gothic finery, and unnatural decorations, which they term ornaments, are conspicuous in their churches and dress.  Reverence for mental excellence is only to be found in a polished nation.