"
However, from out the very ranks of the enemy, before he left college at
the end of his first term, he had one intimate. It would, perhaps, be
difficult to understand how two-thirds of the friendships in the world
have their birth and maintain their existence. The connection between
Everett and Charles Barclay appeared to be of this enigmatical order.
One would have said the two could possess no single taste or sentiment
in common. Charles was a handsome, athletic fellow, warm-hearted,
impassioned, generous, and thoughtless to cruelty. He had splendid
gifts, but no application,--plenty of power, but no perseverance.
Supposed to be one of the most brilliant men of his years, he had just
been "plucked," to the dismay of his college and the immense wrath of
his friends. Everybody knew that Barclay was an orphan, left with a very
slender patrimony, who had gained a scholarship at the grammar-school.
He was of no family,--he was poor, and had his own way to make in life.
It was doubly necessary to _him_ that he should succeed in his
collegiate career.
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