O.M. We are constantly assured that every man is endowed with Free Will, and that he can and must exercise it where he is offered a choice between good conduct and less-good conduct. Yet we clearly saw that in that man’s case he really had no Free Will: his temperament, his training, and the daily influences which had molded him and made him what he was, _compelled _him to rescue the old woman and thus save _himself _—save himself from spiritual pain, from unendurable wretchedness. He did not make the choice, it was made _for _him by forces which he could not control. Free Will has always existed in _words_, but it stops there, I think—stops short of _fact_. I would not use those words—Free Will—but others. Y.M. What others? O.M. Free Choice. Y.M. What is the difference? O.M. The one implies untrammeled power to _act _as you please, the other implies nothing beyond a mere _mental process: _the critical ability to determine which of two things is nearest right and just. Y.M. Make the difference clear, please. O.M. The mind can freely _select, choose, point out _the right and just one—its function stops there. It can go no further in the matter. It has no authority to say that the right one shall be acted upon and the wrong one discarded. That authority is in other hands. Y.M. The man’s? O.M. In the machine which stands for him. In his born disposition and the character which has been built around it by training and environment. Y.M. It will act upon the right one of the two? O.M. It will do as it pleases in the matter. George Washington’s machine would act upon the right one; Pizarro would act upon the wrong one. Y.M. Then as I understand it a bad man’s mental machinery calmly and judicially points out which of two things is right and just— O.M. Yes, and his _moral _machinery will freely act upon the one or the other, according to its make, and be quite indifferent to the _mind’s _feeling concerning the matter—that is, _would _be, if the mind had any feelings; which it hasn’t. It is merely a thermometer: it registers the heat and the cold, and cares not a farthing about either. Y.M. Then we must not claim that if a man _knows _which of two things is right he is absolutely _bound _to do that thing? O.M. His temperament and training will decide what he shall do, and he will do it; he cannot help himself, he has no authority over the matter. Wasn’t it right for David to go out and slay Goliath? Y.M. Yes. O.M. Then it would have been equally _right _for any one else to do it? Y.M. Certainly. O.M. Then it would have been _right _for a born coward to attempt it? Y.M. It would—yes. O.M. You know that no born coward ever would have attempted it, don’t you? Y.M. Yes. O.M. You know that a born coward’s make and temperament would be an absolute and insurmountable bar to his ever essaying such a thing, don’t you? Y.M. Yes, I know it. O.M. He clearly perceives that it would be _right _to try it? Y.M. Yes.