with innocence and trustfulness, the
healthy glow of his clear and ingenuous countenance, and the noble look
and manners which were the fruit of a noble mind, he could never be one
of those who pass unknown and unnoticed in the common throng. And since
to these advantages of personal appearance he superadded a quick
intelligence, and no little activity and liveliness, he was sure to meet
with flattery and observation. But there was something in Julian's
nature which, by God's grace, seemed to secure him from evil, as though
he were surrounded by an atmosphere impermeable to base and wicked
hearts. He passed through school-life not only unscathed by, but almost
ignorant of, the sins into which others fell; and the account which his
contemporaries might have given of their schoolboy days was widely
different from his own. He was one of those of whom the grace of God
took early hold, and in whom "reason and religion ran together like warp
and woof," to form the web of a wise and holy life. Such happy
natures--such excellent hearts there are; though they are few and far
between.

To Hugh Lillyston Julian owed no little of his happiness. They had been
in the same forms together since Julian came, and the friendship between
them was never broken. When Lillyston first saw the new boy, he longed
to speak to him at once, but respected him too much to thrust himself
rudely into his acquaintance. During the first day or two they
exchanged only a few shy words; for Julian, too, was pleased and taken
with Lillyston's manly, honest look. But both had wisely determined to
let their knowledge of each other grow up naturally and gradually,
without any first-sight vows of eternal friendship, generally destined
to be broken in the following week.

Lillyston had observed, not without disgust, that two thoroughly bad
fellows were beginning to notice the newcomer, and determined at all
hazards to tell Julian his opinion of them. So one day as they left the
school-room together, he said--

"Do you know Brant and Jeffrey?"

"Yes; a little," answered Julian.

"Did you know them before you came, or anything?"

"No; but they _will_ wait for me every now and then at the door of the
fourth-form room when I'm coming out and I'm sure I don't want them, but
one doesn't wish to seem uncivil, and I don't know how to get rid of
them."

"H'm! well, I wouldn't see too much of them if I were you."

"No? but why?"

"Well, never mind--on