.

"The wisest choice is that of a career, every duty of which can
be fulfilled without the sacrifice of kindly affections or the
relinquishment of family ties. He who can adopt such is both wise and
happy."

"Are you happy, Mr. Joseph?" asked I; "for I know you are wise."

"Far more happy than wise, Jasper," said he, smiling. "For one like me,
life has borne many blessings."

"Like you!" exclaimed I, in surprise, for to my thinking he was a
most enviable mortal; I knew of no one so learned, nor of such varied
acquirements. "Like you, Mr. Joseph!"

"Just so, Jasper; I, who have had neither home nor family, have yet
found both; I, whom no ties of affection encircled, have lived to feel
what it is to be cared for; and I, that almost despaired of being aught
to any one, have found that I can be of use to those whom it is my chief
happiness to love."

"Tell me your history, Mr. Joseph, or at least tell me something about
yourself."

"My story, my dear Jasper, is but the history of my own day. The least
eventful of lives would be adventurous if placed alongside of mine. I
began the world such as you see me, poor, humble-minded, and lowly. I
continue my journey in the same spirit that I set out. The tastes and
pursuits that then gave me pleasure are still the same real sources of
enjoyment to me. What were duties are now delights. Your dear mother was
once my pupil, as you are now; and it is my pride to see that she has
neither forgotten our old lessons, nor lived to think them valueless.
Even here have I seen her fall back upon the pursuits which occupied her
childhood--ay, and they have served to lighten some gloomy hours too."

Raper quickly perceived, from the anxiety with which I had listened,
that he had already spoken too much; and he abruptly changed the topic
by saying,--

"How we shall miss the poor Herr Robert! He had grown to seem one of
ourselves."

"And is my mother unhappy, Mr. Joseph?" said I, recurring to the former
remarks.

"Which of us can claim an exemption from sorrow, Jasper? Do you
not think that the little village yonder, in that cleft of the
mountain--secluded as it looks--has not its share of this world's
griefs? Are there not the jealousies, and the rivalries, and the
heartburnings of large communities within that narrow spot?"

While he was yet speaking, a messenger came to summon me home. The
Countess, he said, was waiting dinner for me, and yet no invitation came
for Raper. He s