“Why on the simple ground that a man cannot change any opinion until he is convinced that it is wrong, and that he inevitably must, and actually does, change his opinion on the instant that he is so convinced; and that in virtue, not of his will, but of the constitution of his mind. Some men’s minds are of such a nature—they take such a limited and weak grasp of things—that they cannot be easily convinced. Others are so powerful that they readily seize upon truth when it is presented to them; but in either case, the instant the point of conviction is reached the mind is changed. Pride may indeed prevent the admission of this change, but it takes place, as I have said, inevitably.”
At this Bounce opened his eyes to their utmost possible width and said solemnly, “Wot! do ye mean for to tell me, then, that thair ain’t no sich thing as obstinacy?” He accompanied this question with a shake of the head that implied that if Bertram were to argue till doomsday he would never convince him (Bounce) of that.
“By no means,” returned the artist, smiling; “there is plenty of it, but obstinacy does not consist in the simple act of holding one’s opinion firmly.”
“Wot does it consist of, then?”
“In this—in holding firmly to opinions that have been taken hastily up, without the grounds on which they are founded having been duly weighed; and in refusing to consider these grounds in a philosophical (which means a rational) way, because the process would prove tiresome. The man who has comfortably settled all his opinions in this way very much resembles that ‘fool’ of whom it is written that he ‘is wiser in his own conceit than seven men who can render a reason.’”
“Well, but, to come back to the starting-point,” said McLeod, “many wise men smoke.”
“If you say that in the way of argument, I meet it with the counter proposition that many wise men don’t smoke.”
“Hah!” ejaculated Bounce, but whether Bounce’s ejaculation was one of approval or disapproval we cannot tell. Neither can we tell what conclusion these philosophers came to in regard to smoking, because, just then, two horsemen were seen approaching the fort at full speed.
Seeing that they were alone, McLeod took no precautions to prevent surprise. He knew well enough that Indians frequently approach in this manner, so waited in front of the gate, coolly smoking his pipe, until the savages were within a few yards of him. It seemed as if they purposed running him down, but just as they came to within a couple of bounds of him, they drew up so violently as to throw their foaming steeds on their haunches.
Leaping to the ground, the Indians—who were a couple of strong, fine-looking savages, dressed in leathern costume, with the usual ornaments of bead and quill work, tags, and scalp-locks—came forward and spoke a few words to McLeod in the Cree language, and immediately after, delivering their horses to the care of one of the men of the establishment, accompanied him to the store.