I cling to that as some justification for the habit, as an excuse for my own exhibition of the weakness, however dispiriting. It is so convenient to have a shorthand reference for Jones and other of our acquaintances. The proper understanding of any one of them might engage the leisure of a lifetime; and if for general purposes we can tuck our friends into some neat category, we serve the purposes of lucidity. Lastly, to conclude this apology, I would plead that a new scheme of classification, such as that provided by psycho-analysis, is altogether too fascinating to be resisted. There is, for example, my friend David Wince, the typical “introvert,” and an almost perfect foil for my friend the “extrovert,” previously described. The two men loathe the sight of one another. Contempt on one side and fear on the other is a sufficient explanation of their mutual aversion. Wince, indeed, has an instinctive fear of anything that bellows, and a rooted distrust of most other things. He suffers from a kind of spiritual agoraphobia that makes him scared and suspicious of large generalisations, broad horizons and cognate phenomena. He likes, as he says, to be “sure of one step” before he takes the next. The open distances of a political argument astound and terrify him. He takes all discussions with a great seriousness, and displays an obstructive passion for definition and the right use of words. “What I should like to understand” is a favourite opening of his, and the thing he would like to understand is almost invariably some abstruse and fundamental definition. The _á priori_ method is anathema to him. He is, in fact, characteristically unable to comprehend it. He has little respect for a syllogism as such, because his mind seems to work backwards, and all his logical faculty is used in the dissection of premisses. When my exasperation reaches the stage at which I say: “But, my dear fellow, let us take it for granted, for the sake of argument ...” he wrings his hands in despair and replies: “But that’s the whole point. We _can’t_ take these things for granted. If you don’t examine your premisses, where _are_ you?” He has a habit in conversation of emphasizing such words as those I have underlined, and a look of desolation comes into his face when he plaintively enquires where we _are_. At those times I see his timid, irresolute spirit momentarily staring aghast at the threat of this world’s immense distances; before it ducks back with a sigh of relief into the shelter afforded by his introspective analyses. “Let us be quite sure of our ground,” he says, “before we draw any deductions.” His ground is, I fancy, a kind of “dug-out.”