finds a
place.

It is the fault of the feeble-spirited who have not the energy to affirm
their sentiments or to make a plain statement of their convictions that
they become incensed with those who oppose them.

In their case a good deal of false pride is present. They know
themselves to be beaten and to be incapable of fighting, yet they are
too vain to accept defeat. They refuse the sympathy that wounds them,
and suffer the more from their inability to yield themselves to that
good-will which would aid and comfort them.

From this mental conflict is born an irritation that manifests itself in
the form of obstinate sullenness.

In other cases the same state of mind may produce radically different
results.

Always obsessed by the fear of appearing ridiculous and by the no less
vivid dread of seeming to be an object of sympathy, such people are
often driven through lack of poise into extreme boastfulness.

No man who has poise will ever fall a victim to this misfortune.

He knows exactly what his capabilities are and he has no need to
exaggerate his own abilities to impress his friends.

Poise calls for action, when this becomes necessary; but the man of
resolve, being always prepared to do what is needful, considers mere
boasting and bravado as something quite unworthy of him.

There are, however, certain extenuating circumstances in the cases of
those timid people who take refuge in boasting. They are almost
invariably the dupes of their own fancies, and for the moment really
believe themselves to be capable of endeavors beset by difficulties, of
the surmounting of which they understand nothing.

Nothing looks easier to duplicate than certain movements which are
performed with apparent ease by experts.

Which of us has not been profoundly astonished at the enormous
difficulty experienced in accomplishing some simple act of manual toil
that we see performed without the least effort by a workman trained to
this particular task?

What looks easier, for instance, than to plane a piece of wood or to dig
up the ground?

Is it possible that the laborer, wheeling a barrow, really has to be
possest of skill or strength?

It hardly seems so. And yet the man who takes a plane in his hands for
the first time will be astounded at the difficulty he experiences in
approximating to the regularity and lightness of stroke that comes
naturally to the carpenter.

The man who essays to dig a piece of ground or to wheel