states that desire, properly
augmented, ripens into decision and action. This is true. And yet the
ripening process is sometimes so slow that the frost of fear or the rot of
regret spoils the fruit. It is popularly supposed to be true that if a
person really desires to do a thing strongly enough, and it is within the
bounds of possibility, he will do it. Nine times out of ten, or perhaps
ninety-nine times out of a hundred, this is the case; but there are times
when the will simply refuses to respond to desire.

A BALKY WILL

A lady who was of an exceedingly stubborn nature once said to us:
"Ordinarily, I consider myself to be quite amenable to persuasion and
suggestion. I like to live peaceably with others. Occasionally, however,
someone, and perhaps someone whom I love very dearly, says something or
does something that makes me stubborn. Then I absolutely balk. Commands,
demands, appeals, cajoleries, every means thinkable, are used, but the
more people attempt to influence my action, the more stubborn I become. If
then I am left alone to think it over for a few hours, very likely I shall
begin to think that it would be advisable, from every point of view, for
me to yield. My judgment is already convinced that to yield is the best
policy. My love for my friends, my desire for peace, my wish to be
accommodating and to have their approval all urge me to yield. I want to
yield. But, even then--how, I cannot explain--there is something inside
which absolutely forbids it. This is so strong that it feels stronger than
my judgment and all of my desires taken together. The only possible course
for me to pursue is to forget the entire matter for a few days, at the end
of which time, perhaps, the stubbornness has seemingly evaporated."

DECISION MAY WAIT UPON AN IRRELEVANT WORD

And so, merely augmenting desire oftentimes is not enough to bring about
decision and action, even in cases which are not so extreme as those which
we have just cited. The proposition may be of such a nature that it does
not admit of arousing desire to any very high pitch. In all such cases
what is needed is some special stimulus to the will. As every chemist
knows, sulphuric acid and alcohol, when mingled together in a glass
vessel, do not combine. They have an affinity for each other. All of the
necessary elements for active combination are present in that glass, and
yet they do not combine. But drop in a bit of platinum and instantly the
whole