“Leave us Reason, and, children of God, we may from any point start out to see Our Father, His voice indicating from within the paths to Him which somewhere surely lie near to everywhere.  Leave us Reason, and, brothers of men, we recognize that each Intelligence is of value equal to ourselves, and more precious than aught else can be, and we perceive the due relations of an orderly world.”

“The voice within in simple dignity commands”—­

But the lines swam before me:  I could not hold my head up:  the Moorish room expanded to the height and magnificence of a Hall of Magic, the dream of starry space returned and the pure lights circled in it singing to me in chorus.  Space itself seemed to become the veiled countenance of a Mysterious Power, which “half-revealed and half-concealed” itself on every hand, and out of the midst of a dark-blue sky, appeared the form and face of Alexandra, like a Princess-Madonna, smiling, O so earnestly and kindly.

I started, and woke again.  The Professor’s notes were still under my eyes, and I read the words, “Lose yourself and live as if you were one of the others.  Exalted on this pinnacle you are prepared for any existence; you have learnt your path through eternity, and the world and its vicissitudes may sweep by you like winds past a statue.”

As I slowly thought over all the dream, and comprehended its remarkable character, I conceived it as a revelation.

“The highest things,—­I have found them at last!” I exultantly cried, in a final enthusiasm—­“the total subjection of self and obedience of the whole life to Reason!  What shall I care more for events and opinions, or any matter that but concerns myself and a fleeting world!  I will seek in my actions ever the greater, finer, nobler thing for all, and the rule will be aim sufficient!”

“I saw that DUTY is the Secret of the World.”

It was only a question to choose my largest, finest, noblest field of work for all.  Difficulties disappeared, and the great aim soon appeared before me of the cultivation of the national spirit.

The nation must found and shape its own work on the same deep idea.

CHAPTER XLIV.

DAUGHTER OF THE GODS.

   “Soft was the breath of balmy spring
   In that fair month of May”

   —­GEO MURRAY.

Time flew brightly for some days, as an early spring, having poured its thousand rivulets out of the melting snows, began to dry the soil and instil into the willows and birches the essences that soon cover them with refreshing green, and earth suddenly teems with leafing and flying life, with odor of buds and laughing variety of shade and sun.

I, as is my nature, was deeply under the spell.

   “Rossignolet du bois joli,
   Emporte-moi-t-une lettre!”

Alexandra was coming home!