s is a radical mistake, and must be
corrected, if we are to get a clear idea of self-control, and if we are
to make a fair start in acquiring it as a permanent habit.

I am what I am by virtue of my own motives of thought and action, by
virtue of what my mind is, what my will is, and what I am in the
resultant combination of my mind and will; I am not necessarily what I
appear from the outside.

If a man is ugly to me, and I want to knock him down, and refrain from
doing so simply because it would not appear well, and is not the habit
of the people about me, my desire to knock him down is still a part of
myself, and I have not controlled myself until I am absolutely free
from that interior desire. So long as I am in hatred to another, I am
in bondage to my hatred; and if, for the sake of appearances, I do not
act or speak from it, I am none the less at its mercy, and it will find
an outlet wherever it can do so without debasing me in the eyes of
other men more than I am willing to be debased. The control of
appearances is merely outward repression, and a very common instance of
this may be observed in the effort to control a laugh. If we repress
it, it is apt to assert itself in spite of our best efforts; whereas,
if we relax our muscles, and let the sensation go through us, we can
control our desire to laugh and so get free from it. When we repress a
laugh, we are really holding on to it, in our minds, but, when we
control it by relaxing the tension that comes from the desire to laugh,
it is as if the sensation passed over and away from us.

It is a well-known fact among surgeons that, if a man who is badly
frightened, takes ether, no matter how well he controls his outward
behavior, no matter how quiet he appears while the ether is being
administered, as soon as he loses control of his voluntary muscles, the
fear that has been repressed rushes out in the form of excitement. This
is a practical illustration of the fact that control of appearances is
merely control of the muscles, and that, even so far as our nervous
system goes, it is only repression, and self-repression is not
self-control.

If I repress the expression of irritability, anger, hatred, or any
other form of evil, it is there, in my brain, just the same; and, in
one form or another, I am in bondage to it. Sometimes it expresses
itself in little meannesses; sometimes it affects my body and makes me
ill; often it keeps me from being entirely well. Of on