more than a great many turns will wind
again. It is necessary above all things never to lose a battle; every gain
on the wrong side undoes the effects of many conquests on the right.

"3. _Seize every opportunity to act in the direction of the desired habit,
and permit no emotional prompting in its behalf to escape you_. 'Hell is
paved with good intentions,' hence to have good desires, thoughts,
intentions without actually working them out weakens and destroys the moral
fibre. 'Character is a completely fashioned will,' says J.S. Mill, and a
will in this sense is an aggregate of tendencies which act in a firm,
prompt, and definite way in every emergency of life. When a resolve or a
fine glow of feeling is allowed to evaporate without bearing fruit in
action, it is worse than a chance lost, it is a positive hindrance to the
carrying out of future resolutions. Nothing is more contemptible than a
sentimental dreamer who is carried away with lofty thoughts and feeling but
who never does a manly, concrete deed. Positive harm is done through
cultivating the emotions and sentiments if no outlet is found for some
appropriate action.

"4. _Keep the faculty of effort alive by a little gratuitous exercise every
day_. That is, be heroic, do every day something for no other reason than
that you would rather not do it, so that when the hour of dire need comes,
it may find you nerved and trimmed to stand the test. The man who practices
self-denial in unnecessary things will stand like a tower when everything
rocks around him and when his softer fellow mortals are winnowed like chaff
in a blast.

"The hell which theology once taught is no worse than the hell we make for
ourselves by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way. Could
the young but realize how soon they will become mere walking bundles of
habits, they would give more heed to their conduct while in the plastic
state. We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never to be undone.
Every small stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never so little scar.
The drunken Rip Van Winkle excuses each drink he takes by saying, 'I won't
count this time.' He may not count it, and a kind heaven may not count it,
but down among his nerve cells and in the muscle fibres, the molecules are
counting it, registering and storing it up to be used against him when the
next temptation comes. Nothing we do in a strict, scientific sense is ever
wiped out; each thought and every de