tful attention,
controlled by such motives as fear or self-assertion; and the final
stage of objective interest and absorption in the subject, which is
evidently the same as the free-running condition.

Effort is not a good in itself; it is an unpleasant condition; but it
is a natural response to difficulty and is often necessary in order to
get the individual into the free-running condition which is both
efficient and pleasant. It is often required to get the individual out
of the easy-going condition into the free-running condition, which is
something entirely different. In free-running action there may be even
more energy expended than in effortful action, but it is better
directed and produces no strains and jolts.

Intelligence, in the sense of adaptability and "seeing the point", may
often take the place of effort. Consider the way two different people
react to a sticking door: the one puts in more strength and forces it,
the other by a deft thrust to the side opens it without much extra
force. You can't say absolutely which mode of attack is better, for
your stubborn one may waste his strength on an obstruction that really
cannot be forced, while your clever one may waste his {539} time on a
door that needs only a bit of a push. Persistence _plus_ adaptability
is what efficient activity demands.

Thought and Action

"Men of thought" and "men of action" are sometimes contrasted--which
is hardly fair to either, since the great man of action must have the
imagination to conceive a plan, and must know exactly what he is
aiming to accomplish, while the great thinker must be persistent in
thinking and must get into action by way of writing or somehow making
his thoughts count in the world. But we do find men who are impatient
of thought and want to get into action at once, even without knowing
just what they are about, and other men who seem quite contented to
think and plan, without any definite intention of ever putting their
plans into execution. The former type, the impulsive individual, is
not difficult to understand, his behavior fits in so well with the
primitive trial-and-error sort of activity; but the mere thinker seems
an anomaly, in view of the general psychological principle that
thought tends toward motor action.

In accounting for the inactive thinker, we have to remember, first,
that some inhibition of immediate action is often necessary, in order
to have time to think the matter over; this prud