At our chota hazri the next morning I had no sooner mentioned the suggestion than my wife exclaimed: “The very thing! Let’s do it at once!” If it might be allowed me to use the words of a great man, I would quote the remark of Edmund Burke about his wife, and apply it to mine: “She discovers the right and wrong of things, not by reasoning but by sagacity.” She never opposed any good proposal of mine, and when she differed from me, it was with such a sweet reasonableness and loving persuasion that I took real pleasure in yielding to her suggestions. Never once did I have to ask like the Scotchman, “Wha’s to wear thae breeks, the day, you or me?” Carlyle says: “The English are torpid, the Scotch harsh, and the Irish affectionate.” My wife was the latter, and if she ever guided me, it was through her affections, but this is beside the story. My next thought was to see Mr. Jasper, not only to get his opinion, for I had determined on my plan, but more to hear myself talk on the subject, and to judge from his manner on hearing me, if the thing was feasible and best. There is something in hearing one’s self talk over his own plans, but I must check myself, or I shall be dreaming again. He heard me all through very calmly, and replied: “Yes, it is a good scheme, but can you carry it out?” “Will you help?” I asked quickly in my enthusiasm. He did not reply at once, but sat silently, looking towards me or away beyond me, for some moments, and then said, “You have asked me a very important question. You know how I feel towards you, Mr. Japhet.” “Yes,” I replied, “I know and wish to say that there is not a man living whom I respect more for his good judgment and kindliness of heart towards me than I do you.” I said this because it was the truth, and I wished him to know it, not that I intended to bait him with any sugared words. Had he declined to help me even with a rupee, I would have said what I did. He continued, “You know me too well to take offense at what I am going to say. You know the Eurasians, what they are?” “Don’t I know?” I exclaimed. “Am I not one of them to my sorrow and shame?” Without regarding my remark he said, “The natives are bad enough in every way, just what their ancestors and circumstances have made them. They are born deceivers and liars. They are capable liars, and can tell a lie with a semblance of truth in it, and then to protect the first will thatch it with another, and so on indefinitely as they build their roofs, one thatch upon another. The Europeans are not noted for lying. They will stave off everything they don’t like to admit, with a bluff, or a ‘mind your own business.’ They are licentious. I think this is their greatest and worst vice in India, if not at home.” “Do I not know this?” I asked. “Do I not carry the proof of this in my face every hour I live?”