Many barristers practising at the end of the eighteenth century had nothing but contempt for the bar as a profession. In this, as in much else, Tone was typical of his time. Why then did so many fathers continue to channel their ambitions for their sons in this direction? The answer is simple. In an age when the landed class automatically occupied the plum positions in most walks of life, the bar alone held open the opportunity for high office, wealth and reputation to those of humbler origins. More peerages were awarded to members of the legal profession than to any other, and a seat in Parliament was not an unreasonable expectation. Nearly all Tone's college companions who embarked with him on a legal career were to attain eminence either in the legal or the political world. Above all the bar was a ‘gentlemanly’ profession. It conferred a certain social status on all who were called, and although Tone's private fortunes were in decline, in public he was about to become a member of a powerful elite. Buoyed up by the acclaim of his contemporaries in the Historical Society, Tone had reason to feel optimistic about his future. His last call-in at the Historical Society on the evening of 24 January 1787 would have ensured a rousing send-off, and he left for England a day or two later to prepare for the bar at the Inns of Court in London.

Tone's two years as a law student in London are often cited as part of the tantalising image of the irresponsible rake later to turn sober (or equally irresponsible, depending on one's viewpoint) rebel. It is a tempting image, but a false one; the truth is far more mundane. Tone was too romantic to be a rake. His life-style in London was nothing out of the ordinary, and his abbreviated account singling out the highlights, the more pleasant moments, was part of that common mental process which retrospectively blots out the bad times.