Let us remark here, that the successful in the world are stout deniers of the doctrine of chances. They maintain that there is no such a thing as luck; while the unsuccessful, again, are firm believers in the doctrine, and insist on it that not only is there such a thing as luck, but that luck is every thing. The successful man’s vanity prompts him to attribute his prosperity solely to his talents and merit--the unsuccessful man’s self-love to deny that the want of these qualities has been his hindrance. Hence the conflicting opinions of the two on this curious subject. Then, where lies the truth? We suspect between. From a good deal of experience in the science of “cutting” under the circumstances alluded to in this paper--we shall not say whether as cutters or cuttees--we have flattered ourselves that we could throw out a few hints that might be found useful to gentlemen who are getting on in the world, and who are desirous of ridding themselves of their earlier and poorer friends. Under this supposition we offer the few following remarks:-- For some time after you have started on the prosperous career on which you have luckily fallen, continue to smile and bow towards your old friends as formerly; and when you meet them accidentally (let this be, however, as seldom as you possibly can), shake hands with them as cordially as ever. You may even venture to remark, accompanying such remark with an expression of regret, that they are prodigious strangers now. But this is not quite safe ground, and we by no means advise its general adoption. Conducting yourself in this way, your old friends will never suspect that there is already a change working at your heart--a secret operation as yet known only to yourself. By and bye, throw the least, the very least thing of distance into your greeting: let your smile be _apparently_ as cordial as formerly, but let there now be a slight expression of the slightest degree possible of coolness, of an indefinable something or other in your general manner of a repulsive character: take care, however, that it _be_ indefinable--that it be of a description that cannot be named. This new feature in your bearing will probably startle the more shrewd and observant of your former friends: but never mind that--it is precisely the impression you desire to make. It is even possible that some of them may express by _their_ manner towards _you_ a feeling of irritation at your new mode of treating them. Meet it by an expression of surprise at _their_ conduct, and by increased coolness. There is now good ground for a quarrel--not open hostility, of course, but the warfare of distant looks and haughty salutations. Improve it to the utmost, and wonder what the fellows mean.