ailed had lain for several weeks at Boston in North
America--then a scene of those fierce and angry contentions which
eventually separated the colonies from the mother country; and when in
this place, I had become acquainted, by the merest accident in the
world, with the brother of my friend the poet. I was passing through one
of the meaner lanes, when I saw my old college friend, as I thought,
looking out at me from the window of a crazy wooden building--a sort of
fencing academy, much frequented, I was told, by the Federalists of
Boston. I crossed the lane in two huge strides.

"Mr. Ferguson," I said--"Mr. Ferguson," for he was withdrawing his head,
"do you not remember me?"

"Not quite sure," he replied; "I have met with many sailors in my time;
but I must just see."

He had stepped down to the door ere I had discovered my mistake. He was
a taller and stronger-looking man than my friend, and his senior
apparently by six or eight years; but nothing could be more striking
than the resemblance which he bore to him, both in face and figure. I
apologized.

"But have you not a brother, a native of Edinburgh," I inquired, "who
studied at St. Andrew's about four years ago?--never before, certainly,
did I see so remarkable a likeness."

--"As that which I bear to Robert?" he said. "Happy to hear it. Robert
is a brother of whom a man may well be proud, and I am glad to resemble
him in any way. But you must go in with me, and tell me all you know
regarding him. He was a thin pale slip of a boy when I left Scotland--a
mighty reader, and fond of sauntering into by-holes and corners; I
scarcely knew what to make of him; but he has made much of himself. His
name has been blown far and wide within the last two years."

He showed me through a large waste apartment, furnished with a few deal
seats, and with here and there a fencing foil leaning against the wall,
into a sort of closet at the upper end, separated from the main room by
a partition of undressed slabs. There was a charcoal stove in the one
corner, and a truckle bed in the other; a few shelves laden with books
ran along the wall; there was a small chest raised on a stool
immediately below the window, to serve as a writing desk, and another
stool standing beside it. A few cooking utensils scattered round the
room, and a corner cupboard, completed the entire furniture of the
place.

"There is a certain limited number born to be rich, Jack," said my new
companion, "an