llotined; and only escaped by their catching
the real traitor: I was, however, banished the republic,
merely for my name's sake.'"
On his return to England he was called to the bar, in June 1790; and
but for a singular circumstance might have passed through life as a
literary barrister, with middling success in law and letters.
"He was, early in 1794, leaving his chambers in the Temple
for the purpose of paying a visit in the Northern outskirts
of London. Upon crossing Fleet Street he had to traverse Bell
Yard; and as he passed a watchmaker's shop his attention was
attracted by a placard in the window, of a very revolutionary
character, convening a meeting of a certain society, that
evening, at the watchmaker's. Many a man would have passed it
unnoticed, or contented himself with a feeling of regret or
indignation at the prevalence during that period of similar
views: not so was it with young Ward; he was fresh from
all the horrors which the success of such principles in a
neighboring country had entailed; he at once determined to
enter the watchmaker's shop and provoke a discussion with
him. For two hours did the young student contest with the
Republican the justice of his sentiments; for two hours did he
labor to impress upon him, not only by argument but by his own
experience, the horrors to which success must lead; but at
the end of that time he was obliged to leave him, apparently
unmoved, or at all events unconvinced. He paid his distant
visit, and late in the evening returned homeward through the
same alley. Desparing of success, he paid no second visit
to the disputant of the morning, though he did remark with
pleasure that the revolutionary placard had been withdrawn.
Hardly, however, had he passed the shop twenty yards, when
he heard some one running after and calling to him. He looked
back and beheld the Republican watchmaker. The manner of the
man was changed from the dogged imperturbability with which he
had listened to Mr. Ward's arguments in the morning to a frank
and eager confidence. 'I have called you in,' said he, 'to say
I have done nothing but think over your words: I feel their
truth; I shudder at the precipice on which I stood, at the
evil I was about to do; and am now as anxious to communicate
and prevent as I was before to conceal all our schemes.' He
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