one-tenth of the volume.

The first child, when told to make his choice, took the mass of straw,
which he set on fire easily enough, warming himself first from a
respectful distance and then at close range, in proportion as the heat
of the fire grew less.

In so doing he made great sport of his companion, who struggled
meanwhile to set alight the pile of wood. But what was the outcome?

The huge mass of straw was soon burned out, while the wood, once lit,
furnished a tranquil and steady flame, which the first child watched
with envy while seated by the mass of cinders that alone remained of the
vanished pile that he had chosen.

The man of real poise is like the child who, disclaiming the transitory
blaze of the straw, prefers to work patiently at building a fire whose
moderate heat will afford him a durable and useful warmth.

Let us then beware of sudden unreasoning enthusiasms. After the
ephemeral flame of their first ardor has burned itself out we shall but
find ourselves seated by the mass of ashes formed of our mistakes and
our dead energies.

The rock on which so many abortive attempts are wrecked in the effort to
achieve poise is a type of sentimentality peculiar to certain natures.

This state of mind is characterized by a craving for expansion, which is
all the more irritating since the timidity of the person concerned
prevents it from being satisfied.