approach it with a trepidation that invites failure. If, on the other hand,
I have learned to say that even if I make a blunder it will only add to
my experience, then apply myself whole-minded to the task, I have made a
direct attack on worry.

The qualification _unduly_ is not to be forgotten; a certain discrimination
must be exercised before entirely condemning the insistent thought. The
insistent thought that one's family must be fed is not a morbid sign. In
fact, he also errs who can eliminate this thought and enjoy the ball game.
It is not for the deviate of this type that I am writing. Nevertheless, the
over-solicitous victim of the "New England Conscience" can almost afford to
take a few lessons from the ne'er-do-weel.

The practical bearing of this attempt to analyze worry is obvious. If it is
through the insistent desire for an automobile that I worry, I must bring
my training to bear, not on the worry, which is elusive, but on the desire,
which is definite. I must fortify myself with what philosophy I can
acquire, and must console myself with such compensations as my situation
may offer; and above all, I must _get busy_, and occupy hands and brain
with something else. If, on my travels, I worry over the sluggish movement
of the train, it is because of the insistent thought that I must arrive
on time. In this event I should practice subduing the insistent thought,
rather than vaguely direct my efforts against the worry. In the majority of
cases I can bring myself to realize that the question of my arrival is not
vital. Even in case I am missing an important engagement I may modify the
dominance of the thought by reflecting that I cannot expect to be wholly
immune from the misfortunes of mankind; it is due me, at least once in a
lifetime, to miss an important engagement,--why fret because this happens
to be the appointed time? Why not occupy my thoughts more profitably than
in rehearsing the varied features of this unavoidable annoyance?