ely
knowing if I was still dreaming, or if all was reality around me! Where
was I? how came I there? were questions that I could not follow to
a solution. Some resemblance in the scenery with the country around
Reichenau assisted the mystification, and from the entanglement of my
thoughts no effort could rescue me. As, one by one, memories of the
past came up, there came with them the sad reflection of my own lonely,
isolated condition in life. The humblest had a home--had those around
them to whose love and affection they could lay claim as from blood
and kindred--who bore the same name, were supported by the same hopes,
cheered by the same joys, and sorrowed for the same sufferings! It was
true that no affection a sister could bestow could exceed that I had met
with where I was. There was not a kindness of which I had not been
the object. Was I, could I, be ungrateful for these? Far from it!--my
melancholy lay in the thought that these were the very evidences of my
own forlorn lot, and that compassion and pity were the sentiments that
prompted them in my behalf.

I knew, besides, that in my long illness I must have proved a grievous
burden to those whose own circumstances were straitened to the utmost
limit of narrow fortune. I saw about me comforts, even luxuries, that
must have cost many a privation to acquire. I felt that, in succoring
me, they had imposed upon themselves the weight of many a future
want. These were afflicting considerations, nor could all my ingenuity
discover one resource against them. I was still too weak to walk; my
limbs tottered under me as I went. Perhaps it were better it had been
so, since I really believe if I had had strength sufficient for
the effort, notwithstanding all the shame that might attach to my
ingratitude, I should have fled from the house that moment, never to
return! It was in the abandonment of grief arising from these thoughts
that "Ursule" discovered me. With what tenderness did she rally my
drooping spirits; how gently did she chide my faint-heartedness!

"You must rise above these things, Jasper," said she to me. "You must
learn to see that the small ills of life are difficult to be borne just
because they suggest no high purpose."

And from this she went on to tell me of the noble devotion of the
missionary, the splendid enthusiasm that elevated men above every
thought of peril, and taught them to court danger and confront
suffering. How mean and sordid did she rep