d to the country."

"Oh," said the old gentleman, shortly; "come back and turn author, in
fact, and write a book that nobody would publish, or which, in the event
of its being published, nobody would read!"

"Come, now, my dear uncle, don't laugh at me. I assure you it seems
very reasonable to me to think that what others have done, and are doing
every day, I am able to do."

"Well, I won't laugh at you; but, to be serious, you are wise enough to
know that an old man's experience is worth more than a youth's fancies.
Much of what you have said is true, I admit, but I assure you that the
bright prospects you have cut out for yourself are very delusive. They
will never be realised, at least in the shape in which you have depicted
them on your imagination. They will dissolve, my boy, on a nearer
approach, and, as Shakespeare has it, `like the baseless fabric of a
vision, leave not a wrack behind,' or, at least, not much more than a
wrack."

Ned reverted to the golden dream, and felt uneasy under his uncle's kind
but earnest gaze.

"Most men," continued Mr Shirley, "enjoy themselves at first, when they
go to wild countries in search of adventure, but they generally regret
the loss of their best years afterwards. In my opinion men should never
emigrate unless they purpose making the foreign land they go to their
_home_. But I won't oppose you, if you are determined to go; I will do
all I can to help you, and give you my blessing; but before you make up
your mind, I would recommend you to call on Mr Moxton, and hear what
prospects he holds out to you. Then take a week to think seriously over
it; and if at the end of that time, you are as anxious to go as ever,
I'll not stand in your way."

"You are kind to me, uncle; more so than I deserve," said Ned earnestly.
"I'll do as you desire, and you may depend upon it that the generous
way in which you have left me to make my own choice will influence me
against going abroad more than anything else."

Ned sighed as he rose to quit the room, for he felt that his hopes at
that moment were sinking.

"And before you take a step in the matter, my boy," said old Mr
Shirley, "go to your room and ask counsel of Him who alone has the power
to direct your steps in this life."

Ned replied briefly, "I will, uncle," and hastily left the room. Mr
Shirley poked the fire, put on his spectacles, smoothed out the wrinkles
on his bald forehead with his hand, took up the _Times_, and