"She often asks for a priest, your worship," said the nurse. "Perhaps if she could see one she might think better before she died." "Alas, I doubt it," replied the visitor; "but at all events we cannot afford her that relief. No such person can be found here." "I don't know, Sir Philip," said the old woman, with a good deal of hesitation; "they do say that at Carrington, there is--there is what they call a seminary." "You do not mean a papist college!" exclaimed the baronet, with unfeigned surprise and consternation. "Oh, dear, no sir," replied the nurse, "only a gentleman--a seminary--a seminary priest, I think they call it; a papist certainly; but they say he is a very good gentleman, all but that." Sir Philip mused for a minute or two, and then turned to the door, saying, "Methinks it is hard that a dying woman cannot have the consolations of the rites of her own faith--mummery though they be. As a magistrate, my good woman, I can give no authority in this business. You must do as you think fit. I myself know of no priest in this neighborhood, or I should be bound to cause his apprehension. I shall take no notice of your word, however, and as to the rest, you must, as I have said, act as you think fit. I did not make the laws, and I may think them cruel. Did I make them, I would not attempt to shackle the conscience of any one. Farewell," and passing through the door, he remounted his horse and rode away. It was in the early autumn time of the year, and the scene was peculiarly lovely. I have given a slight description of it before, but I must pause and dwell upon it once more, even as Sir Philip Hastings paused and dwelt upon its loveliness at that moment, although he had seen and watched it a thousand times before. He was not very impressible by fine scenery. Like the sages of Laputa, his eyes were more frequently turned inwards than outwards; but there was something in that landscape which struck a chord in his heart, that is sure to vibrate easily in the heart of every one of his countrymen. It was peculiarly English--I might say singularly English; for I have never seen any thing of exactly the same character anywhere else but in Old England--except indeed in New England, where I know not whether it be from the country having assimilated itself to the people, or from the people having chosen the country from the resemblance to their own paternal dwelling place, many a scene strikes the eye which brings back to the wandering Englishman all the old, dear feelings of his native land, and for a moment he may well forget that the broad Atlantic rolls between him and and the home of his youth.