nd pictured before us. Dreams of happiness
and visions of bliss, of which all our after-years are insufficient to
eradicate the _prestige_, come in myriads about us; and from that narrow
aperture through which this new hope pierces into our heart, a flood of
light is poured that illumines our path to the very verge of the grave. How
many a success in after-days is reckoned but as one step in that ladder of
ambition some boyish review has framed, perhaps, after all, destined to be
the first and only one! With what triumph we hail some goal attained, some
object of our wishes gained, less for its present benefit, than as the
accomplishment of some youthful prophecy, when picturing to our hearts all
that we would have in life, we whispered within us the flattery of success.

Who is there who has not had some such moment; and who would exchange
it, with all the delusive and deceptive influences by which it comes
surrounded, for the greatest actual happiness he has partaken of? Alas,
alas, it is only in the boundless expanse of such imaginations, unreal and
fictitious as they are, that we are truly blessed! Our choicest blessings
in life come even so associated with some sources of care that the cup of
enjoyment is not pure but dregged in bitterness.

To such a world of bright anticipation did I awake on the morning after the
events I have detailed in the last chapter. The first thing my eyes fell
upon was an official letter from the Horse Guards:--

"The commander of the forces desires that Mr. O'Malley will report
himself, immediately on the receipt of this letter, at the headquarters
of the regiment to which he is gazetted."

Few and simple as the lines were, how brimful of pleasure they sounded to
my ears. The regiment to which I was gazetted! And so I was a soldier at
last! The first wish of my boyhood was then really accomplished. And my
uncle, what will he say; what will he think?

"A letter, sir, by the post," said Mike, at the moment.

I seized it eagerly; it came from home, but was in Considine's handwriting.
How my heart failed me as I turned to look at the seal. "Thank God!" said
I, aloud, on perceiving that it was a red one. I now tore it open and
read:--

My Dear Charley,--Godfrey, being laid up with the gout, has
desired me to write to you by this day's post. Your appointment to
the 14th, notwithstanding all his prejudices about the army, has
given him sincere pleasure. I beli