"By Jove! Why, all your hair is burnt off-and your eyebrows, and-what have you been doing?-how did it come about ?" Romilly putting his hand in the direction indicated, ascertained that there was yet some left. "I got it amongst the dogs and mountains, &c." "St. Burn-hard-ha! ha ha! Why, your coat's wet through, and what have you done to your inverness? Come into the parlour, and I'll brew some punch to keep the cold out." "No, thank you. Good night, I'm going to bed.” "Good morning, Romilly," roared Walker after him, loud enough to let the landlady know for once at what time he really did come home. "You won't catch me offering you rum punch again. It's your turn now to ask me.' "Not a public singer! 'Twas a splendid voice," Bernard mused. "Awake at this hour, and in trouble-I should like to know more about them." CHAPTER VI. A CIVIL ᎳᎪ Ꭱ . BERNARD ROMILLY was the only son of a widow of high family, but extremely small means. He had been intended for the Church, but disgusted with college life and some specimens of the cloth whom he had encountered, with the impetuosity of youth he renounced the established faith and joined a body of Dissenters, by whom his extraordinary talents and religious zeal were hailed as a blessing and example. College expenses had proved a heavy drag upon her slender means, drawing deeply upon the principal, and diminishing her annual income, and as Church preferment through family influence was the prospect of his life, the new and unorthodox views of her son were very disappointing to Mrs. Romilly. Eventually she was reconciled to her son's choice, but not so the family. The "family" was a Conservative family, very high church-Puseyite, in fact, leaning to Romanism. Their objections were not raised against any particular doctrines of dissent, but excited by the lowness of the thing. Bernard was eccentric, no doubt, and eccentricity is very shocking in conventional life. He was young, and when he first came in contact with "his family," he imprudently expressed his opinions with enthusiasm and eloquence. They considered the enthusiasm vulgar, and failed to appreciate the eloquence. He was pronounced "queer," "a disgrace to the family," and formally outlawed from all claim to relationship. They gave him a week to decide which he would renounce—his madness or his "family," and he gave up the latter in a lengthy epistle containing youthfully heroic flourishes; a very bravo-like brandishing of arms in the face of "the family," which had the effect of making their decision to ignore him firm and unyielding. The younger branches of "the family" were forbidden to mention his name, and only allowed to entertain general and vague notions that he had done something disgraceful. He who could defy society, scorn appearances, and throw off altogether the family yoke, might prove too dangerous an associate for their sons. When Mrs. Romilly died Bernard found himself alone in the world, with a very small pittance by way of fortune. The young man was handsome, and bore the unmistakably aristocratic air of one who belongs to "a family" which that offended body were powerless to take from him, or perhaps they might never have allowed him to carry it about amongst a dissenting congregation and sickly poor. He had obtained the ministry of a chapel near Islington, and to do him justice, although impetuous, self-sufficient, and headstrong with regard to the immaculateness of his religious views, he was not content with being a star of brilliant oratory in the pulpit-he was not even vain of a gift that brought thousands crowding into his chapel-he was only zealous for religion itself, and humble in his conception of all besides. He lived a frugal, hermit like life, and occupied his time in teaching and visiting the poor, with as much assiduity and tenderness as a woman or a Sister of Mercy. With his doctrines the reader has little to do, except as they affect the actions of his life, and relate to other more prominent characters on our stage. One or two scenes which must occur in their proper order will sufficiently illustrate their working and his character in a book which disclaims all title to a religious novel. Bernard, if somewhat extreme and Quixotic in his views, was the minister of much good, and youth that possesses nobility, genius, and heroism is generally visionary, extreme, and Quixotic in whatever path it chooses, whatever prize it aspires after, until maturity and experience secure moderation, sterling good sense, and sound judgment. It is more natural for the camp, the council, or the muses, to fire the fancy of ardent and well-favoured boyhood. But Bernard, as we have said, possessed a peculiar disposition. He beheld the vainness of the warrior's glory; he read in history how the mightiest monarch resigned his throne at the summons of death; he saw that the breath of popular applause is fickle as the wind that blows from east to west or north to south, and changes in a night; he saw how wealth had perished, how the most generous love has been blighted, and the noblest friendship betrayed; he saw how noble deeds are often requited by a nation's perfidy and hatred; he saw how deceitful are the enticements of pleasure and the promises of ambition; how unhealthy the indulgences of wealth-and should he occupy his life struggling for any of these? To what did they all tend? To the tomb. And after the tomb comes Eternity! To prepare for Eternity, then, was the real business of life. "But," asked one of his companions, "how can you prove to me that there is any eternity, or that these means you employ to secure a happy position are not purely visionary?" "I can prove to you that all in this life is no better than visionary," Bernard answered, "because I can prove that, granting the struggles of a lifetime are successful, every man must die; and I can prove that when he dies he must resign everything he has struggled for. At the hour of death riches or poverty, success or failure, are of no more moment to him than a thistledown floating on the wind. I say, what is the use of devoting every thought and energy to acquire that which we must surely resign soon after possession-that which we shall not even value in a dying hour? Few men really doubt the immortality of the soul, for, as everyone has a soul within him, all have a vague consciousness of immortality. You ask me to prove eternity; I say your own soul proves it to your own conscience. You ask me to prove that Scripture points out the true way to acquire what the soul will take with it into eternity, in contradistinction to what the body leaves behind. I ask you to prove that it does not, by showing me a better way." His companion remained silent. "Eternity may present a vague idea to our view-we may long to know more of it-but whilst I can show that your worldly policy is a mistake, by proving that it perishes, you cannot prove the fallacy of mine." Thus it was that Bernard argued and looked coldly upon the dazzling but untenable prizes of life, to grasp at the highest-the highest, because human intellect can penetrate no higher-which no man has or can prove delusive, and of which hope and faith promise all things. Bernard's was a noble ambition, an exalted enthusiasm, and one that separated him more effectually, in its present phase, than a poet is separated, from his fellow-creatures; but he stood strong in his faith. (To be continued.) THE following game was played between the distinguished player, Herr Harrwitz, and one of our strongest metropolitan amateurs, at the odds of the exchange. Before playing over the game, therefore, it will be necessary to remove White's Q. R. and Black's Q. Kt. from the Board. White. (Herr HARRWITZ.) 1. P. to K. fourth 2. P. to K. B. fourth 3. K. Kt. to B. third 4. P. to K. R. fourth 5. Kt. to K. fifth 6. B. to Q. B. fourth7. P. takes P. 8. P. to Q. fourth 9. B. to Q. Kt. fifth (ch.) Game I. Black. (AMATEUR.) 1. P. to K. fourth 3. P. to K. Kt. fourth 4. P. to K. Kt. fifth 5. Kt. to K. B. third 9. B. to Q. second 10. Castles, Q. R. 13. Q. R. to K. square (ch.) 14. P. to K. B. sixth (b) 16. P. takes P. 17. B. to K. Kt. sixth 20. P. to B. fourth 32. R. takes B. 33. R. to R. seventh (ch.) And White resigned. NOTES. (a) Well played, considering that Black has the advantage of the exchange. (b) Pursuing the attack with great energy. These Pawns, as will ultimately be seen, become the stronghold of Black's game. (c) The best move. (4) A last resource to gain these terrible Pawns. CHESS ABROAD. Under this heading we propose to give, from time to time, one of the best games that may have been played during the preceding month by the leading masters on the continent. The following interesting and instructive partie was contested by the eminent players, Professor Anderssen, and Herr Miesis. |