All men of great natural strength of mind, gifted with the will to do and dare, the beings of action and genius, act directly, and are like athletes who lift a tree by the simple exertion of the muscles. He who achieves his aim by self-culture, training, or suggestion, is like one who raises the weight by means of a lever, and if he practice it often enough he may in the end become as strong as the other. There is a curious and very illustrative instance of Forethought in the sense in which I am endeavoring to explain it, given in a novel, the "Scalp-Hunters," by MAYNE REID, with whom I was well acquainted in bygone years. Not having the original, I translate from a French version: "His aim with the rifle is infallible, and it would seem as if the ball obeyed his Will. There must be a kind of _directing principle_ in his mind, independent of strength of nerve and sight. He and one other are the only men in whom I have observed this singular power." This means simply the exercise in a second, as it were, of "the tap on the bell-knob," or the projection of the will into the proposed shot, and which may be applied to any act. Gymnasts, leapers and the like are all familiar with it. It springs from resolute confidence and self-impulse enforced; but it also creates them, and the growth is very great and rapid when the idea is much kept before the mind. In this latter lies most of the problem. In Humanity, mind, and especially Forethought, or reflection, combined in one effort with will and energy, enters into all acts, though often unsuspected, for it is a kind of unconscious _reflex_ action or cerebration. Thus I once discovered to my astonishment in a gymnasium that the extremely mechanical action of putting up a heavy weight from the ground to the shoulder and from the shoulder to the full reach of the arm above the head, became much easier after a little practice, although my muscles had not grown, nor my strength increased during the time. And I found that whatever the exertion might be there was always some trick or knack, however indescribable, by means of which the man with a brain could surpass a dolt at _anything_, though the latter were his equal in strength. But it sometimes happens that the trick can be taught and even improved on. And it is in all cases Forethought, even in the lifting of weights or the willing on the morrow to write a poem. For this truly weird power--since "the weird sisters" in "Macbeth" means only the sisters who _foresee_--is, in fact, the energy which projects itself in some manner, which physiology can as yet only very weakly explain, and even if the explanation _were_ perfect, it would amount in fact to no more than showing the machinery of a watch, when the main object for us is that it should _keep time_, and tell the hour, as well as exhibit the ingenuity of the maker--which thing is very much lost sight of, even by many very great thinkers, misled by the vanity of showing how much they know.