had a narrow escape.

"It happened, unfortunately for him, that another 'Ward,' of
about the same age and personal appearance, had incurred the
suspicion of the Republican party, at a moment when suspicion
lost all its doubts, and death followed close upon the heels
of certainty. To use his own words, 'I was arrested for having
the same name and the same colored coat and waistcoat as
another Ward, guilty of treason; was ordered without trial to
Paris, to be guillotined; and only escaped by their catching
the real traitor: I was, however, banished the republic,
merely for my name's sake.'"

On his return to England he was called to the bar, in June 1790; and
but for a singular circumstance might have passed through life as a
literary barrister, with middling success in law and letters.

"He was, early in 1794, leaving his chambers in the Temple
for the purpose of paying a visit in the Northern outskirts
of London. Upon crossing Fleet Street he had to traverse Bell
Yard; and as he passed a watchmaker's shop his attention was
attracted by a placard in the window, of a very revolutionary
character, convening a meeting of a certain society, that
evening, at the watchmaker's. Many a man would have passed it
unnoticed, or contented himself with a feeling of regret or
indignation at the prevalence during that period of similar
views: not so was it with young Ward; he was fresh from
all the horrors which the success of such principles in a
neighboring country had entailed; he at once determined to
enter the watchmaker's shop and provoke a discussion with