"It was in this very month something over twenty years ago that I Ludwig Horace Holly was sitting one night in my rooms at Cambridge grinding away at some mathematical work I forget what. I was to go up for my fellowship within a week and was expected by my tutor and my college generally to distinguish myself. At last wearied out I flung my book down and going to the mantelpiece took down a pipe and filled it. There was a candle burning on the mantelpiece and a long narrow glass at the back of it; and as I was in the act of lighting the pipe I caught sight of my own countenance in the glass and paused to reflect. The lighted match burned away till it scorched my fingers forcing me to drop it; but still I stood and stared at myself in the glass and reflected."