tained. "_Aut Caesar aut
nullus_," thought I; and when my uncle determined I should be a lawyer,
I neither murmured nor objected, but hugged myself in the prophecy of
Considine that hinted pretty broadly, "the devil a stupider fellow ever
opened a brief; but he'd have made a slashing light dragoon."

The preliminaries were not long in arranging. It was settled that I should
be immediately despatched to Dublin to the care of Dr. Mooney, then a
junior fellow in the University, who would take me into his especial
charge; while Sir Harry was to furnish me with a letter to his old friend,
Doctor Barret, whose advice and assistance he estimated at a very high
price. Provided with such documents I was informed that the gates of
knowledge were more than half ajar for me, without an effort upon my
part. One only portion of all the arrangements I heard with anything like
pleasure; it was decided that my man Mickey was to accompany me to Dublin,
and remain with me during my stay.

It was upon a clear, sharp morning in January, of the year 18--, that I
took my place upon the box-seat of the old Galway mail and set out on my
journey. My heart was depressed, and my spirits were miserably low. I had
all that feeling of sadness which leave-taking inspires, and no sustaining
prospect to cheer me in the distance. For the first time in my life, I had
seen a tear glisten in my poor uncle's eye, and heard his voice falter as
he said, "Farewell!" Notwithstanding the difference of age, we had been
perfectly companions together; and as I thought now over all the thousand
kindnesses and affectionate instances of his love I had received, my heart
gave way, and the tears coursed slowly down my cheeks. I turned to give one
last look at the tall chimneys and the old woods, my earliest friends; but
a turn of the road had shut out the prospect, and thus I took my leave of
Galway.

My friend Mickey, who sat behind with the guard, participated but little in
my feelings of regret. The potatoes in the metropolis could scarcely be as
wet as the lumpers in Scariff; he had heard that whiskey was not dearer,
and looked forward to the other delights of the capital with a longing
heart. Meanwhile, resolved that no portion of his career should be lost, he
was lightening the road by anecdote and song, and held an audience of four
people, a very crusty-looking old guard included, in roars of laughter.
Mike had contrived, with his usual _savoir faire_, to make hi