ars followed each other--and I was Fortune's spoilt child still.

"Under adverse circumstances, my sociable disposition, my delight in the
society of young people of my own age, might have exposed me to serious
dangers in my new sphere of action. Happily for me, my father consulted a
wise friend, before he sent me to Cambridge. I was entered at one of the
smaller colleges; and I fell, at starting, among the right set of men.
Good examples were all round me. We formed a little club of steady
students; our pleasures were innocent; we were too proud and too poor to
get into debt. I look back on my career at Cambridge, as I look back on
my career at school, and wonder what has become of my better self."

III

"During my last year at Cambridge, my father died.

"The profession which he had intended that I should follow was the Bar. I
believed myself to be quite unfit for the sort of training imperatively
required by the Law; and my mother agreed with me. When I left the
University, my own choice of a profession pointed to the medical art, and
to that particular branch of it called surgery. After three years of
unremitting study at one of the great London hospitals, I started in
practice for myself. Once more, my persistent luck was faithful to me at
the outset of my new career.

"The winter of that year was remarkable for alternate extremes of frost
and thaw. Accidents to passengers in the streets were numerous; and one
of them happened close to my own door. A gentleman slipped on the icy
pavement, and broke his leg. On sending news of the accident to his
house, I found that my chance-patient was a nobleman.

"My lord was so well satisfied with my services that he refused to be
attended by any of my elders and betters in the profession. Little did I
think at the time, that I had received the last of the favours which
Fortune was to bestow on me. I enjoyed the confidence and goodwill of a
man possessing boundless social influence; and I was received most kindly
by the ladies of his family. In one word, at the time when my
professional prospects justified the brightest hopes that I could form,
sudden death deprived me of the dearest and truest of all friends--I
suffered the one dreadful loss which it is impossible to replace, the
loss of my mother. We had parted at night when she was, to all
appearance, in the enjoyment of her customary health. The next morning,
she was found dead in her bed."

IV

"Keen observers