ndecision, and that at the very moment when he is called
upon to perform some decisive action.

"One day," says an old writer, "three men, in the course of a climb up a
mountain, found themselves confronted by a crevasse that they must
cross.

"One of these was a timid man, another a boaster, and the third was
possest of a reasoned poise.

"The boaster made a jump without stopping to think and without taking
the trouble to measure the gap. He plunged into it.

"The modest man then advanced, looked down into the gulf, then decided
to make use of the irregularities in the surface of the chasm to reduce
the width of the jump.

"He made several attempts to carry this out, but could hardly touch the
edge before an instinctive movement of fear forced him back.

"He worked so hard and so long at this that he was quite tired out when
he at last chose the moment for the decisive attempt. He jumped, indeed,
but in such a half-hearted way that he merely touched the opposite face
of the crevasse and fell to the bottom of the precipice alongside of the
boaster.

"The third climber, who possest the advantage of poise, had meanwhile
been losing no time. He had mentally gaged the width of the crevasse,
had made a number of trial jumps to test his ability to clear it, and
when, with a firm resolution to succeed, he reached the edge from which
he must leap, his soul, fortified by the knowledge of his powers was
fired with a single idea, the consciousness of his own agility and
strength.

"By this means he, alone of the three, was able to cross the gulf in
which his two companions had perished."

Effrontery and boastfulness have often another source. The shyness of
those who suffer from timidity, by isolating them and denying them the
means of expansion, prevents them from obtaining a real control over
their feelings, which undergo a process of deterioration so slow that
they do not notice it.

There are very few things to which we can not easily become accustomed,
to the extent of a complete failure to notice their peculiarities, if
their strangeness is only unfolded to us gradually.

A thousand things which shock us at the first blush take on the guise of
every-day matters when once we have acquired the habit of familiarity
with them.

The timid man, who will not openly acknowledge his feelings, is
practically unable to take cognizance of their gradual transformation.

We may add that he is always prone to dream, and pe