But before the formation of the purpose is complete it must pass
through a third stage, the stage of decision. Ideals and desires are
not enough, or rather they are too many; for there may be a multitude
of them. Certain ideals are desired for supplying certain of my wants,
others for supplying others. But on examination these many desirable
ideals will often prove conflicting; all cannot be attained, or at
least not all at once. Among them I must pick and choose, reducing and
ordering their number. This process is decision. Starting with my
ambiguous future, imagination brings multifold possibilities of good
before me. But before these can be allowed to issue miscellaneously
into action, comparison and selection reduce them to a single best. I
accordingly assess the many desirable but competing ideals and see
which of them will on the whole most harmoniously supplement my
imperfections. On that I fasten, and the intention is complete.

All this is obvious. But one part of the process, and perhaps the most
important part, is apt to receive less attention than it deserves. In
decision we easily become engrossed with the single selected ideal,
and do not so fully perceive that our choice implies a rejection of
all else. Yet this it is--this cutting off--which rightly gives a name
to the whole operation. The best is arrived at only by a process of
exclusion in which we successively cut off such ideals as do not tend
to the largest supply of our contemplated defects. Walking by the
candy-shop, and seeing the tempting chocolates, I feel a strong desire
for them. My mouth waters. I hurry into the shop and deposit my five-
cent piece. In the evening I find that by spending five cents for the
chocolates I am cut off from obtaining my newspaper, a loss
unconsidered at the time. But to decide for anything is to decide
against a multitude of other things. Taking is still more largely
leaving. The full extent of this negative decision often escapes our