The man of resolution, instead of yielding to despair, seeks to surmount such a difficulty by turning his car in another direction; but, if the new road shows him nothing but dangerous pitfalls, he will choose to go around the block and continue his journey, remembering it as a landmark for his return.

For this reason we shall find him well on his way toward his journey’s end while the victim of timidity continues to exhaust himself by vain efforts, thankful enough if he is not permanently mired in some of the bogs into which he has imprudently ventured.  This is a state of affairs of much more frequent occurrence than one might suppose.  Timidity, as we have seen, often unites the boldest conceptions with complete inexperience, which does not permit of accurate judgment as to impossibilities.

This lack of knowledge of life is also the cause of a continual fear of making mistakes.

The man of resolution never suffers from this complaint.

Having taught himself the value of a ripened judgment, he is quick to recognize the advantage to be derived from any project.  He weighs alternatives carefully and only makes his decisions on well-thought-out grounds, after sufficient reasoned reflection to make sure that he will have no cause for future regret.

We have already remarked that such forms of irresolution constituted a martyrdom.  The word is by no means too strong.  They are never-ending occasions for physical and moral torture.

They are to be met with in the most trivial details of every-day life.

The mere crossing of a street becomes, for the nervous man, an ever-recurring source of torment.

He is afraid to go forward at the proper moment, takes one step ahead and another back, looks despairingly at the line of vehicles that bars his way, and, when a momentary opening in this confronts him, takes so long to make up his mind that the opportunity of crossing is past before he has seized it.

Or again he may suddenly rush forward, without any regard for the danger to which he is exposed, hesitating suddenly when in the way of the vehicles that threaten him, and quite incapable of slipping past them, or of any quick or dexterous movement by which he may avoid them.

This little picture, despite its commonplace nature, is nevertheless a symbol.

In the crossings of life, as well as those of the streets, the man who is timid is at an immense disadvantage when compared with the man of poise.

The latter does not worry his head about the traffic that blocks his progress.

Aided by his will-power and by confidence in his judgment, he stands firmly awaiting the moment that affords him an opening.  Then, with muscles tense and wits collected, he starts, and whether he darts ahead here, or glides adroitly there, he threads his way through the traffic and reaches his goal without having suffered from accident.