damaged the other. My mysticism has pulled me back when I ought to
have taken a decided step, urging "Leave it to God"--and then, when
I have failed to get what I wanted, my mysticism has failed to
comfort me, and the practical side of me has said, "The decided
step was what God clearly indicated to you was needed; and you were
lazy and would not take it."

I have a highly practical friend, the most absolutely and admirably
worldly person I know. In talk he sometimes lets fall very profound
maxims. We were talking the other day about this very point, and he
said musingly, "It is a very good rule in this world not to ask for
anything unless you are pretty sure to get it." That is the cream
of the worldly attitude. Such a man is not going to make himself
tiresome by importunity. He knows what he desires, he works for it,
and, when the moment comes, he just gives the little push that is
needed, and steps into his kingdom.

That is exactly what I cannot do. It is not a sign of high-
mindedness, for I am by nature greedy, acquisitive, and ambitious.
But it is a want of firmness, I suppose. Anyhow, there it is, and
one cannot alter one's temperament.

The conclusion which I come to for myself and for all like-minded
persons--not a very happy class, I fear--is that one should
absolutely steel oneself against disappointment, not allow oneself
to indulge in pleasing visions, not form plans or count chickens,
but try to lay hold of the things which do bring one tranquillity,
the simple joys of ordinary and uneventful life. One may thus
arrive at a certain degree of independence. And though the heart
may ache a little at the chances missed, yet one may console