they must often know!  The horse backs on to the pavement, into a plate-glass window, just as Maria, for whose sake the poor screw was hired, is passing by.  The boys halloo in derision; and some ostler, helpful, but not complimentary, extricates the rider, and says, ’I see you have never been on ’ossback before; you should not have pulled the curb-bit that way!’ And when the vulgar dandy, strutting along, with his Brummagem jewellery, his choking collar, and his awfully tight boots which cause him agony, meets the true gentleman; how it rushes upon him that he himself is only a humbug!  How the poor fellow’s heart sinks!

Turning from such inferior fields of ambition as these, I think how often it happens that men come to some sphere in life with a flourish of trumpets, as destined to do great things, and then fail.  There is a modest, quiet self-confidence, without which you will hardly get on in this world; but I believe, as a general rule, that the men who have attained to very great success have started with very moderate expectations.  Their first aim was lowly; and the way gradually opened before them.  Their ambition, like their success, went on step by step; they did not go at the top of the tree at once.  It would be easy to mention instances in which those who started with high pretensions have been taught by stern fact to moderate them; in which the man who came over from the Irish bar intending to lead the Queen’s Bench, and become a Chief Justice, was glad, after thirty years of disappointment, to get made a County Court judge.  Not that this is always so; sometimes pretension, if big enough, secures success.  A man setting up as a silk-mercer in a strange town, is much likelier to succeed if he opens a huge shop, painted in flaring colours and puffed by enormous bills and vast advertising vans, than if he set up in a modest way, in something like proportion to his means.  And if he succeeds, well; if he fails, his creditors bear the loss.  A great field has been opened for the disappointment of men who start with the flourish of trumpets already mentioned, by the growing system of competitive examinations.  By these, your own opinion of yourself, and the home opinion of you, are brought to a severe test.  I think with sympathy of the disappointment of poor lads who hang on week after week, hoping to hear that they have succeeded in gaining the coveted appointment, and then learn that they have failed.  I think with sympathy of their poor parents.  Even when the prize lost is not substantial pudding, but only airy praise, it is a bitter thing to lose it, after running the winner close.  It must be a supremely irritating and mortifying thing to be second wrangler.  Look at the rows of young fellows, sitting with their papers before them at a Civil Service Examination, and think what interest and what hopes are centred on every one of them.  Think how many count on great success, kept up to do so by the estimation in which they are held at home.  Their sisters