resistance to his suffering, yielding my will to the necessities of
the situation,--this attitude will leave me much more clear to help
him, will show him how to help himself, and will relieve him from
the reaction that inevitably follows severe nervous strain. The
power of use to others is increased immeasurably when we control
ourselves interiorly, and do not merely outwardly repress.

It often happens that a drunkard who is supposed to be "cured,"
returns to his habit, simply because he has wanted his drink all the
time, and has only been taught to repress his appetite; if he had
been steadily and carefully taught real self-control, he would have
learnt to control and drop his interior _desire,_ and thus keep
permanently free. How often we see intemperance which had shown
itself in drink simply turned into another channel, another form of
selfish indulgence, and yet the victim will complacently boast of
his self-control. An extreme illustration of this truth is shown in
the case of a well-known lecturer on temperance. He had given up
drink, but he ate like a glutton, and his thirst for applause was so
extreme as to make him appear almost ridiculous when he did not
receive it.

The opportunities for self-control are, of course, innumerable;
indeed they constitute pretty much the whole of life. We are living
in freedom and use, real living use, in proportion as we are in
actual control of our selfish selves, and led by our love of useful
service. In proportion as we have through true self-control brought
ourselves into daily and hourly obedience to law, are we in the
freedom that properly belongs to our lives and their true uses.

When once we have won our freedom from resistance, we must use that