a by-word and an outcast."

"Oh, my dear Charles," answered Campbell, "beware of a very subtle
temptation which may come on you here. I have meant to warn you of it
before. The greatness of the sacrifice stimulates you; you do it because
it is so much to do."

Charles smiled. "How little you know me!" he said; "if that were the
case, should I have waited patiently two years and more? Why did I not
rush forward as others have done? _You_ will not deny that I have acted
rationally, obediently. I have put the subject from me again and again,
and it has returned."

"I'll say nothing harsh or unkind of you, Charles," said Campbell; "but
it's a most unfortunate delusion. I wish I could make you take in the
idea that there is the chance of its _being_ a delusion."

"Ah, Campbell, how can you forget so?" answered Charles; "don't you know
this is the very thing which has influenced me so much all along? I
said, 'Perhaps I am in a dream. Oh, that I could pinch myself and
awake!' You know what stress I laid on my change of feeling upon my dear
father's death; what I thought to be convictions before, vanished then
like a cloud. I have said to myself, 'Perhaps these will vanish too.'
But no; 'the clouds return after the rain;' they come again and again,
heavier than ever. It is a conviction rooted in me; it endures against
the prospect of loss of mother and sisters. Here I sit wasting my days,
when I might be useful in life. Why? Because this hinders me. Lately it
has increased on me tenfold. You will be shocked, but let me tell you
in confidence,--lately I have been quite afraid to ride, or to bathe, or
to do anything out of the way, lest something should happen, and I might
be taken away with a great duty unaccomplished. No, by this time I have
proved that it is a real conviction. My belief in the Church of Rome is
part of myself; I cannot act against it without acting against God."

"It is a most deplorable state of things certainly," said Campbell, who
had begun to walk up and down the room; "that it is a delusion, I am
confident; perhaps you are to find it so, just when you have taken the
step. You will solemnly bind yourself to a foreign creed, and, as the
words part from your mouth, the mist will roll up from before your eyes,
and the truth will show itself. How dreadful!"

"I have thought of that too," said Charles, "and it has influenced me a
great deal. It has made me shrink back. But I now believe it to be like
tho