They are ready to forgive when there is magnanimity, vainglory and probably folly in forgiveness, but will not overlook the most trivial affront when there is every reason for so doing.  They have brain, but not ballast, and their whole life is usually a lopsided effort to “play to the gallery”.

In poetry and literature, fancy has free play, and they often succeed, sometimes rising to sublime heights; usually in the depiction of the whimsical, the wonderful, the sardonic, the bizarre, the monstrous, or the frankly impossible.  They are not architects as much as jugglers of words, and descriptive writing from an acute angle of vision is their forte.  They sometimes succeed as artists or composers, for in these spheres they need not elaborate their ideas in such clean-cut detail, but many who might succeed in these branches have not sufficient strength of purpose to do the preliminary “spadework”.

They have too many talents, too many differing inclinations, too much impetuosity, too much vanity, too little concentration and will-power, and they fail in ordinary walks of life from the lack of resolution to lay the foundations necessary to successful mediocrity.

No greater obstacle to progress exists than the reputation for talent which this class acquire on a flimsy basis of superficial brilliance in conversation or a penchant for witty repartee.  They are self-opinionated and egoistical, with a conceit and assurance out of all proportion to their abilities.  Their mental perspective is distorted and they are conspicuous for their obstinacy.  In conversation they are prolix and pretentious, and they often contract religious mania, in which their actions by no means accord with their protestations, for they have very elementary notions of right and wrong, or no notions at all.

Often they are precocious, but untruthful, cruel, and vicious; the despair of relatives, friends, and teachers.  They combine unusual frankness with an audacity and impulsiveness that is very misleading, for below this show of fire and power there is no stability.

Their character is a tangle of mercurial moods, the neuropath being passionate but loving, sullen one moment, overflowing with sentimental affection the next, vicious a little while later, quick to unreasoning anger, and as quick to repent or forgive, obstinate but easily led, versatile but inconstant, noble and mean by turns, full of contradictions and contrasts, at best a brilliant failure, vain, deaf to advice or reproof, having in his ailing frame the virtues and vices of a dozen normal men.

Mercier aptly describes him: