FREEDOM AND 'FREE AY ILL: 189 



they are 'free/ they must not be conditioned by antecedent circum- 

 stances of any sort, by the misery of the beggar, by the pity in the heart 

 of the passer-by. They must be causeless, not determined. They must 

 drop from a clear sky out of the void, for just in so far as they can be 

 accounted for they are not 'free.' 



Is it then I that am 'free'? Am I the cause of the good or evil deeds 

 which — shall I say? — result from my 'freedom'? I do not cause them, 

 for they are uncaused. And, since they are uncaused, and have no 

 necessary congruity with my character or impulses, what guarantee have 

 I that the course of my life will not exhibit the melancholy spectacle 

 of the reign of mere caprice? For forty years I have lived quietly and 

 in obedience to law. I am regarded as a decent citizen, and one who 

 can be counted upon not to rob his neighbor, or wave the red flag of the 

 anarchist. I have grown gradually to be a character of such and such 

 a kind; I am fairly familiar with my impulses and aspirations; I hope 

 to carry out plans extending over a good many years in the future. 

 Is it this / with whom I have lived in the past, and whom I think I 

 know, that will elect for me whether I shall carry out plans or break 

 them, be consistent or inconsistent, love or hate, be virtuous or betake 

 myself to crime? Alas! I am 'free,' and this / with whom I am familiar 

 cannot condition the future. But I will make the most serious of re- 

 solves, bind myself with the holiest of promises! To what end? How 

 can any resolve be a cause of causeless actions, or any promise clip the 

 erratic wing of 'free-will'? In so far as I am 'free' the future is a wall 

 of darkness. One cannot even say with the Moslem: 'What shall be, 

 will be;' for there is no shall about it. It is wholly impossible for me 

 to guess what I will 'freely' do, and it is impossible for me to make any 

 provision against the consequences of 'free' acts of the most deplorable 

 sort. A knowledge of my own character in the past brings with it 

 neither hope nor consolation. My 'freedom' is just as 'free' as that of 

 the man who was hanged last week. It is not conditioned by my 

 character. If he could 'freely' commit murder, so can I. But I never 

 dreamt of killing a man, and would not do it for the world! No; that is 

 true; the I that I know rebels against the thought. Yet to admit that 

 this I can prevent it is to become a determinist. If I am 'free' I cannot 

 seek this city of refuge. Is 'freedom' a thing that can be inherited as a 

 bodily or mental constitution? Can it be repressed by a course of educa- 

 tion, or laid in chains by life-long habit? In so far as any action is 

 'free,' what I have been, what I am, what I have always done or striven 

 to do, what I most earnestly wish or resolve to do at the present mo- 

 ment — these things can have no more to do with its future realization 

 than if they had no existence. If, then, I really am 'free,' I must face 

 the possibility that I may at any moment do anything that any man can 

 'freely' do. The possibility is a hideous one; and surely even the most 



