justified by ultimate success, and can endure crises before which others would succumb. We are not particularly sensitive to the opinion of others, and are surprised to find that they are sensitive to our opinion, which we express with stolid openness. There are two forms of self-assertion, which may be distinguished by a remark which you will see did not originate in this University. That great question—the difference between an Oxford man and a Cambridge man—was once solved by the epigram: "An Oxford man looks as if the world belongs to him: a Cambridge man looks as if he did not care to whom the world belongs". I am not concerned with the truth of that saying in itself, but it undoubtedly describes two temperaments, which differ, and annoy one another, by a sense of difference. I think, however, that we must admit that the man who does not care to whom the world belongs is extremely annoying to the man who maintains that the world belongs to him. This is eminently the attitude of Englishmen towards other countries. Foreigners rehearse their glories; they recount their claims; they point to their achievements; they elaborate their ideals. The Englishman listens unmoved, and does not even answer. It may be so; he does not care to dispute the matter; he is only sure that, whatever the future may be, there will be plenty of room in it for him to do much the same as he has done in the past—and that is enough. It is this particular attitude which leads foreigners to call us haughty, cold, and unsympathetic.
Indeed, we must confess that we have something of the hardness which goes with a long period of steady
