Before I had reached this stage, my father had been for some time dead. Mr Murray of Murrayshaugh, the father of our friend Hew, a surly old gentleman of very ancient family, and very meagre estate, was my guardian; and we boys, having fairly concluded our academy course, began to form plans for our future life, not without much magniloquence of speech. Maxwell wavered long between the two grave professions of medicine and the Church. The latter was at first decidedly the favourite, for Johnstone, with malicious glee, drew so exquisite a picture of an adoring congregation, and ministering angels, in the form of ladies, old and young, that the gentle Edward was overpowered with modest delight. But the Widow Maxwell in her cottage, on the Watch-brae, had no manner of influence in the Church, while she had the shadow of a promise from some patron of her husband’s to procure for Edward a situation like his father’s, that of an assistant army surgeon. So Maxwell’s fate was determined. He was immediately to commence his studies as a medical student. Johnstone at once and promptly decided for the law, in some one of its occult branches, I scarcely recollect which; but he had not the gift of utterance, and therefore was disqualified from entering the highest and most showy class of the profession. Charlie’s destination was less easily fixed. He was eager to grow rich--he aspired to be famous--he liked all the good things of this world so well, that he was undecided which to grasp at. He thought of India, and his eyes sparkled; but some indefinite feeling, which was not home-love, made him determine to remain in Scotland. I used to wonder at this; for Charlie, with his frank fascination of manners, and his adventurous spirit, was the very man to travel--the very man, as I fancied in honest boyish admiration, to succeed brilliantly wherever he went; but he resolved to remain at home. Then he thought of business--of becoming a great merchant--for youthful calculators have a happy knack of leaping over all the initiatory steps--but for that the capital was wanting. He had nothing--I not very much, and while I would joyfully have shared my utmost farthing with Charlie, that gruff old Murrayshaugh growled forth his veto--“There’s enough tint with merchandise for one generation of ye!” so we relinquished that. But the gift that Johnstone wanted, Charlie had in perfection. He was a natural orator; and the momentous decision was made at last. Charlie decided upon being a great lawyer--the most brilliant pleader in Scotland--perhaps Lord Advocate eventually--certainly a Member of Parliament--Member for Edinburgh! Charlie rose from his low carved chair by the fire as that crowning glory burst upon him--the grandeur of it was overpowering--Member for Edinburgh!