AttheEnglishcathedraltheeffectisdeepenedbytheepitaphsofthosewhoseliveswerepassedinthejointserviceofEnglandandherloyalchild；andourtravellers，whatevertheirwantofsympathywiththesentiment，hadtoowntoacertainbeautyinthatattitudeofproudreverence。Here，atleast，wasapeoplenotcutofffromitspast，butholding，unbrokeninlifeanddeath，thetieswhichexistforusonlyinhistory。Itgaveaglamourofoldentimetothenewland；ittouchedtheprosaicdemocraticpresentwiththewaningpoeticlightofthearistocraticandmonarchicaltradition。Therewashereandthereatitleonthetablets，andtherewaseverywheretheformallanguageofloyaltyandofvenerationforthingswehavetumbledintothedust。Itisabeautifulchurch，ofadmirableEnglishGothic；ifyouaresohappy，youarerathercurtlytoldyoumayenterbyaburlyEnglishfigureinsomekindofsombreecclesiasticaldrapery，andwithinitsquietprecinctsyoumayfeelyourselfinEnglandifyoulike，——which，formypart，Idonot。
NeitherdidourfriendsenjoyitsomuchastheChurchoftheJesuits，withitsmorethantolerablepainting，itscoldlyfrescoedceiling，itsarchitecturaltasteofsubduedRenaissance，anditsblack-eyedpeasant-
girltellingherbeadsbeforeasidealtar，justasintheenviablydeplorablecountrieswealllove；norsomuchevenastheIrishcathedralwhichtheynextvisited。Thatisaverygorgeouscathedralindeed，paintedandgilded’amerveille’，andeverywherestuckaboutwithbigandlittlesaintsandcrucifixes，andpicturesincrediblybad——butforthoseintheFrenchcathedral。Thereis，ofcourse，aseriesrepresentingChrist’sprogresstoCalvary；andtherewasaverytatteredoldman，——
anoldmanwhosevoicehadbeenlongagodrownedinwhiskey，andwhonowspokeinaghostlywhisper，——who，whenhesawBasil’seyefallupontheseries，madehimgotheroundofthem，andtediouslyexplainedthem。
“Whydidyouletthatoldwretchboreyou，andthenpayhimforit？“
Isabelasked。
“O，itremindedmesosweetlyoftheswindlesofotherlandsanddays，thatIcouldn’thelpit，“heanswered；andstraightwayintheeyesofboththatpoor，whiskeyfied，IrishtatterdemalionstoodtransfiguredtothegloriouslikenessofanItalianbeggar。
Theywerealwaysdoingsomethingofthiskind，thoseabsurdlysentimentalpeople，whomyetIcannotfinditinmyhearttoblamefortheirfolly，thoughIcouldnameeversomanyreasonsforrebukingit。Why，infact，shouldwewishtofindAmericalikeEurope？Aretheruinsandimposturesandmiseriesandsuperstitionswhichbesetthetravellerabroadsoprecious，thatheshoulddesiretoimaginethemateverystepinhisownhemisphere？Orhavewethenofourownnoeffectiveshapesofignoranceandwantandincredibility，thatwemustforeverseekanaliencontrasttoournativeintelligenceandcomfort？Somesuchquestionsthisguiltycoupleputtoeachother，andthendroveofftovisittheconventoftheGrayNunswithajoyfulexpectationwhichIsupposetheprospectofthefinestpublic-schoolexhibitioninBostoncouldneverhaveinspired。
But，indeed，sincetheremustbeGrayNuns，isitnotwellthattherearesentimentaliststotakeamournfulpleasureintheirsad，pallidexistence？
TheconventisatagooddistancefromtheIrishcathedral，andingoingtoitthetouristsmadetheirdrivercarrythemthroughoneofthefewoldFrenchstreetswhichstillremaininMontreal。FiresandimprovementshadmadehavocamongthequainthorsessinceBasil’sfirstvisit；butatlasttheycameuponanarrow，ancientRueSaintAntoine，——orwhateverothersaintitwascalledafter，——inwhichtherewasnoEnglishfaceorhousetobeseen。Thedoorsofthelittleone-storydwellingsopenedfromthepavement，andwithinyousawfatmadamethemothermovingaboutherdomesticaffairs，andsparemonsieurtheelderlyhusbandsmokingbesidetheopenwindow；Frenchbabiescrawledaboutthetidyfloors；Frenchmartyrs(letusbelieveLalementorBrebeuf，whogaveuptheirheroiclivesfortheconversionofCanada)siftedtheireyesinhigh-coloredlithographsonthewall；amongtheflower-potsinthedormer-windowlookingfromeverytinroofsatandsewedasmoothhairedyounggirl，Ihope，——theromanceofeachlittlemansion。Theantiqueandforeigncharacteroftheplacewasaccentedbytheinscriptionuponawallof“SiropadoucissantdeMadameWinslow。“
Eversince1692theGrayNunshavemaderefugewithintheamplebordersoftheirconventforinfirmoldpeopleandforfoundlingchildren，anditisnowintheregularcourseofsight-seeingforthetravellertovisittheirhospitalatnoonday，whenhebeholdstheSistersattheirdevotionsinthechapel。Itisabare，white-walled，cold-lookingchapel，withtheusualparaphernaliaofpicturesandcrucifixes。Seateduponlowbenchesoneithersideoftheaislewerethecuriousorthedevout；theformeringreaternumberandchieflyAmericans，whowerenowandthenwhisperedsilentbyanoldpauperzealousforthesanctityoftheplace。AtthestrokeoftwelvetheSistersenteredtwobytwo，followedbythelady-
superiorwithaprayerbookinherhand。Sheclappedtheleavesofthistogetherinsignalforthemtokneel，torise，tokneelagainandrise，whiletheyrepeatedinratherharshvoicestheirprayers，andthenclatteredoutofthechapelastheyhadclatteredin，withresoundingshoes。Thetwoyounggirlsattheheadwereverypretty，andallthepalefaceshadacorpse-likepeace。AsBasillookedattheirpensivesameness，itseemedtohimthatthoseprettiestgirlsmightverywellbethetwainthathehadseenheresomanyyearsago，strickenforeveryoungintheirjoylessbeauty。Theungracefulgownsofcoarsegray，thebluecheckedaprons，theblackcrapecaps，werethesame；theycameandwentwiththesamequicktread，touchingtheirbrowswithholywaterandkneelingandrisingnowasthenwiththesameconstrainedandorderedmovements。Woulditbetoocrueliftheywerereallythesamepersons？
orwoulditbeyetmorecruelifeveryyeartwogirlssoyoungandfairwereself-doomedtorenewthelikenessofthatyouthfuldeath？
Thevisitorswentaboutthehospital，andsawtheoldmenandthelittlechildrentowhomthesegoodpurelivesweregiven，andtheycouldonlyblamethesystem，nottheinstrumentsortheirwork。Perhapstheydidnotjudgewiselyoftheamountofself-sacrificeinvolved，fortheyjudgedfromheartstowhichlovewasthewholeofearthandheaven；butneverthelesstheypitiedtheGrayNunsamidsttheunhomelikecomfortoftheirconvent，theunnaturalcareofthosealienlittleones。Poor’SoeursGrises’intheirnarrowcells；atthebedsideofsicknessandageandsorrow；kneelingwithclaspedhandsandyearningeyesbeforethebloodyspectacleofthecross！——thepowerofyourChurchisshownfarmoresubtlyandmightilyinsuchasyou，thaninhergrandestfanesorthesightofhermostaugustceremonies，withprayingpriests，swingingcensers，tapersandpicturesandimages，underagloomyheavenofcathedralarches。There，indeed，thefaithfulhavegiventheirsubstance；butherethenunhasgivenupthemostpreciouspartofherwoman’snature，andallthetendernessthatclingsaboutthethoughtofwifeandmother。
“Therearesomethingsthatalwaysgreatlyafflictmeintheideaofanewcountry，“saidBasil，astheyloiteredslowlythroughthegroundsoftheconventtowardthegate。“Ofcourse，it’sabsurdtothinkofmenasotherthanmen，ashavingchangedtheirnatureswiththeirskies；butanewlandalwaysdoesseematfirstthoughtslikeanewchanceaffordedtheraceforgoodnessandhappiness，forhealthandlife。SoIgrievefortheearliestdeadatPlymouthmorethanforthemultitudethattheplaguesweptawayinLondon；Ishudderoverthecrimeofthefirstguiltyman，thesinofthefirstwickedwomaninanewcountry；thetroubleofthefirstyouthormaidencrossedinlovethereisintolerable。Allshouldbehopeandfreedomandprosperouslifeuponthatvirginsoil。
ItneverwassosinceEden；butnonethelessIfeelitoughttobe；
andIamoppressedbythethoughtthatamongtheearliestwallswhichroseuponthisbroadmeadowofMontrealwerethosebuilttoimmuretheinnocenceofsuchyounggirlsastheseandshutthemfromthelifewefindsofair。Wouldn’tyouliketoknowwhowasthefirstthattooktheveilinthiswildnewcountry？Whowasshe，poorsoul，andwhatwasherdeepsorroworloftyrapture？YoucanfancyhersomeIndianmaidenluredtotherenunciationbythesplendorofsymbolsandpromisesseenvaguelythroughthelingeringmistsofhernativesuperstitions；orsomewearysoul，sickfromthevanitiesandvices，thebloodshedandthetearsoftheOldWorld，andeagerforasilenceprofounderthanthatofthewildernessintowhichshehadfled。Well，theChurchknowsandGod。
Shewasdustlongago。“
Fromtimetotimetherehadfallenlittlefitfulshowersduringthemorning。Nowasthewedding-journeyerspassedoutoftheconventgatetheraindroppedsoftandthin，andthegraycloudsthatfloatedthroughtheskysoswiftlywereasfar-seenGraySistersinflightforheaven。
“Weshallhavetimeforthedriveroundthemountainbeforedinner，“saidBasil，astheygotintotheircarriageagain；andhewasgivingtheordertothedriver，whenIsabelaskedhowfaritwas。
“Ninemiles。“
“O，thenwecan’tthinkofgoingwithonehorse。Youknow，“sheadded，“thatwealwaysintendedtohavetwohorsesforgoingroundthemountain。“
“No，“saidBasil，notyetusedtohavinghisdecisionsreachedwithouthisknowledge。“AndIdon’tseewhyweshould。Everybodygoeswithone。
Youdon’tsupposewe’retooheavy，doyou？“
“IhadapartyfromtheStates，ma’am，yesterday，“interposedthedriver；
“twoladies，realheavyapes，twogentlemen，weighin’twohundredapiece，andastoutyoungmanontheboxwithme。You’d’a’thoughtthehorsewasdrawin’anemptycarriage，thewayshedartedalong。“
“Thenhishorsemustbeperfectlywornoutto-day，“saidIsabel，refusingtoadmitthepoolfellowdirectlyeventothehonorsofadefeat。Hehadprovedtoomuch，andwasputoutofcourtwithnohopeofrepairinghiserror。
“Why，itseemsapity，“whisperedBasil，dispassionately，“toturnthismanadrift，whenhehadareasonablehopeofbeingwithusallday，andhasbeensocivilandobliging。“
“Oyes，Basil，sentimentalizehim，do！Whydon’tyousentimentalizehishelpless，overworkedhorse？——allinareekofperspiration。“
“Perspiration！Why，mydear，it’stherain！“
“Well，rainorshine，darling，Idon’twanttogoroundthemountainwithonehorse；andit’sveryunkindofyoutoinsistnow，whenyou’vetacitlypromisedmeallalongtotaketwo。“
“Now，thisisalittletoomuch，Isabel。Youknowwenevermentionedthemattertillthismoment。“
“It’sthesameasapromise，yournotsayingyouwouldn’t。ButIdon’taskyoutokeepyourword。Idon’twanttogoroundthemountain。I’dmuchrathergotothehotel。I’mtired。“
“Verywell，then，Isabel，I’llleaveyouatthehotel。“
