“Common sense!  Common sense!  Common sense!  That is your hobby.  Verily, Walter, you are a monomaniac on the subject of common sense; but, as for me, I will leave common sense to common people.  I go in for uncommon sense.”

“The poorest and most unprofitable sense of all, let me tell you.  And one of these days you will discover it to be so.”

“It is no use for us to compare our philosophical notes, I see plainly enough,” Wilton responded.  “We shall never view things in the same light.  You are not the man of the world you should be, Walter.  Men of half your merit will eclipse you, winning opulence and distinction—­while you, with your common sense notions, will be plodding on at a snail’s pace.  You are behind the age, and a stranger to its powerful, onward impulses.”

“And ever do I desire to remain behind the age, Wilton, if mere pretension and show be its ruling and impulsive spirit.”

“The old fashioned way of attaining eminence,” Charles Wilton replied, assuming an attitude and speaking out truly the thoughts that were in his mind; “by plodding on with the emmet’s patience, and storing up knowledge, grain by grain, brings not the hoped for reward, now.  You must startle and surprise.  The brilliant meteor attracts a thousand times more attention, than the brightest star that shines in the firmament.”

“You are trifling, Charles.”

“Never was more in earnest in my life.  I have made up my mind to succeed; to be known and envied.  And to gain the position of eminence I desire, I mean to take the surest way.  The world will be deceived, and, therefore, they who would succeed must throw dust in people’s eyes.”

“Or, in other words, deceive them by pretension.  Charles, let me warn you against any such unmanly, and, I must say, dishonest course.  Be true to yourself and true to principle.”

“I shall certainly be true to myself, Walter.  For what pray do we toil over dry and musty law books in a confined office, months and years, if not to gain the power of rising in the world?  I have served my dreary apprenticeship—­I have learnt the art and mystery, and now for the best and most certain mode of applying it.”

“But, remember your responsibility to society.  Your——­”

Nonsense!  What do I, or what does any one else care about society?  My motto is, Every one for himself, and the deuce take the hindmost.  And that’s the motto of the whole world.”

“Not of the whole world, Charles.”

“Yes, of the whole world, with, perhaps, the single, strange exception of Walter Gray.  And he will be flung to the wall, and soon forgotten, I fear.”

“You jest on a serious subject, Charles.”

“I tell you, Walter, I am in earnest,” Wilton replied with emphasis.  “He that would be ahead, must get ahead in the best way possible.  But I cannot linger here.  It is now nearly night; and it will take me full two hours to prepare myself to meet Miss Cara Linton.  I must make a captive of the dashing maiden this very evening.”  And so saying, he turned, and left the office.