that egoism plays a large part in it, but some portion of it is due to
the lack of observation that characterizes all people of timidity.

The mental idleness and the instability of mind that we have already
considered render such people less inclined to consider with any degree
of care those things which do not touch them directly.

At this stage, it is no longer possible for them to feign ignorance in
order to avoid the trouble of thinking, and they are only touched, even
by the most personal matters, to the extent that circumstances impose
upon them the necessity of thinking or of acting with reference to the
subject under consideration.

The idea that they can no longer avoid the resolutions which must be
made and their fear of the consequences which may result from these
affect them to such a profound extent that the most insignificant of
occurrences immediately assumes for them an altogether incommensurate
importance.

This state of mind is a notable foe of poise. It is practically
impossible for a person under such conditions to believe that any
considerable effort he has made can have passed unperceived.

This propensity to assign an exaggerated importance to personal affairs
develops egoism, the avowed enemy of poise. An egoist necessarily
assumes that the rest of the world attributes to his acts the importance
he himself assigns to them.

This preoccupation does not fail to upset him. It increases his
embarrassment and the fear of not appearing in the light in which he
wishes to be seen paralyzes him, while the dread of what other people
may think prevents him from being himself.

To this cause many otherwise inexplicable defeats must be assigned, the
result of which is a renewed resentment against the world at large and
an ardent desire to avoid any further exposure to the chance of failure.

A case in point is the man who becomes nervous while making a speech,
starts to stammer, and makes a lamentable failure of what began well
enough, because he imagines that persons in the audience are making fun
of him.

He has overheard a word, or surprized a look, neither of which had any
relation to him, but so great is his egoism that he does not dream that
any one in the audience can be so lacking in taste as to be concerned
with anything but himself.

Had this man, in spite of his egoism, been endowed with poise, he would
have gone along calmly, simply forcing himself to ignore all criticism
and to imp