; but at Oxford he became speedily convinced that
there was no Church left for him to enter. Then he fell back on
aestheticism--worshipped Carpaccio, adored Chopin, and turned his rooms
at Merton into a museum of old tapestry, Roman brass-work, and
Venetian glass. Then he dabbled a little in Comtism; but very soon he
threw aside that gigantic make-believe at believing. Nevertheless,
whatever was his whim of the moment, it was for him no whim at all,
but a burning reality. And in this enthusiasm of his there was no room
left for shyness. In fact, these two companions had been accustomed to
talk frankly; they had long ago abandoned that self-consciousness
which ordinarily restricts the conversation of young Englishmen to
monosyllables. Brand was a good listener and his friend an eager,
impetuous, enthusiastic speaker. The one could even recite verses to
the other: what greater proof of confidence?

And on this occasion all this prayer of his was earnest and pathetic
enough. He begged this old chum of his to throw aside his insular
prejudices and judge for himself. What object had he in living at all,
if life were merely a routine of food and sleep? In this selfish
isolation, his living was only a process of going to the grave--only
that each day would become more tedious and burdensome as he grew older.
Why should he not examine, and inquire, and believe--if that was
possible? The world was perishing for want of a new faith: the new faith
was here.

At this phrase George Brand quickly raised his head. He was accustomed
to these enthusiasms of his friend; but he had not yet seen him in the
character of on apostle.

"You know it as well as I, Brand; the last great wave of religion has
spent itself; and I suppose Matthew Arnold would have us wait for the
mysterious East, the mother of religions, to send us another. Do you
remember 'Obermann?'--

"'In his cool hall, with haggard eyes,
The Roman noble lay;
He drove abroad, in furious guise,
Along the Appian Way;

"'He made a feast, drank fierce and fast,
And crowned his head with flowers--
No easier nor no quicker passed
The impracticable hours.

"'The brooding East with awe beheld
Her impious younger world.
The Roman tempest swelled and swelled,
And on her head was hurled.

"'The East bowed low before the blast,
In patience, deep disdain;
She let the legions thunder p