Arthur Weston is in his college-room in that far-famed city, New Haven.

He is in the act of replacing his cigar in his mouth, after having knocked the ashes off it, when we introduce to him the reader.

Though not well employed, his first appearance must be prepossessing; he inherited his mother's clear brunette complexion, and her fine expressive eyes.

His very black hair he had thrown entirely off his forehead, and he is now reading an Abolition paper which had fallen into his hands.

There are two other young men in the room, one of them Arthur's friend, Abel Johnson; and the other, a young man by the name of Hubbard.
"Who brought this paper into my room ?" said Arthur, after laying it down on the table beside him.
"I was reading it," said Mr.Hubbard, "and threw it aside." "Well, if it makes no difference to you, Mr.Hubbard, I'd prefer not seeing any more of these publications about me.