"First, the Saxon sees distinctly but one end or object, to the attainment of which his every faculty is devoted. The Celt's livelier imagination presents him with half a dozen, at all of which he grasps with equal eagerness, and thus his powers are divided and dispersed. Secondly, a Saxon's first thought is of himself, and in this he is consistent; while, owing to the peculiarity of fallen humanity, the Celt's self-forgetfulness is inconsistent; thus, place a Saxon where you will, he possesses in himself a nucleus round which all his energies, hopes, and projects centre; and having a centre, stands. While the Celt works one day for himself, the next for a friend, the next to spite an enemy, the next to do him a service, and so he is, finally, nowhere. Your Saxon will have no objection to do all this in a lump, if it does not interfere with his own interests," and Galliard leaned back and took snuff.
"So," said Colonel Vernon, "our greatest errors spring from our noblest qualities!"
"The noblest qualities of mankind! It is man's fate!" returned Galliard.
"You argue ingeniously; but—" said Langley.
"But truly," interrupted Galliard. "What was it chained the French nation to Napoleon? Imagination! What enabled Bruce to conquer Edward at Bannockburn? Imagination! What rivets the heart of the Irish peasant to the flattering demagogue, or arms his hand against his landlord? Imagination!"
"And the want of a Cogitative nose," put in Winter.
"There's an upset for you, mounseer," said Mr. Storey.
"Really," said Mrs. Storey, "I think, Mrs. Winter, we had better leave the gentlemen to fight it out."
They all rose.