We have seen that, from the point of view of the determinist, it seems an eminently reasonable thing to regard certain good actions as deserving of credit rather than others, and to strive to reward them. We have seen also that we can estimate roughly, at least, the amount of the reward that it is desirable to give. There appears to be nothing absurd, and nothing hopelessly mysterious in the whole matter, although our ignorance of human character, its impulses, the motives that can be expected to lead to this or that action, and, indeed, of the whole machinery of human life, is and must remain very great. But what if we adopt the hypothesis of the 'free-willist'? Let us suppose for the moment that actions can be regarded as creditable only in so far as they are 'free' or causeless, and let us see whether this will cast a brighter light upon the corner of ethics with which we are concerned.
The first difficulty which meets us is a seemingly hopeless uncertainty as to what actions are 'free' and the degree of their 'freedom.' We watch Tommy from a distance as he loiters about in the region of the pantry. Evidently there is a struggle going on within him. He advances his hand; he withdraws it; he takes a step forward; he looks about apprehensively; he touches the key; he stops to reflect. Finally he sighs, and walks away without having done the deed. Of what warring forces has his little mind been the theater? Were the combatants but two—love of jam and 'free-will'? Can we measure the amount of the latter by the degree of opposition which it has met and overcome in the former? Certainly not. Tommy has been whipped before for this offense. He has been talked to seriously on many occasions, and he is not a bad-hearted boy. Fear of detection may influence him more or less; the beginning of a love for virtue and a rather well-developed love of approbation count for something. He has within him a germ of self-respect. All these things are enlisted on the side of right conduct, and the potent influence of just such forces as these even a 'free-will' parent frankly recognizes. No philosopher who has had the fortune to have a son, and who has cared anything about him, has ever delivered him over bodily to the tender mercies of 'free-will.' He keeps prodding at 'free-will,' so to speak, in a more or less deterministic way. It may be his trump card, but he is never willing to throw away the rest of his hand. Accordingly, we must assume that the battle has not been a duel, but a general mêlée. What measure of credit can 'free-will' assume for the result? How shall we apportion our reward for the victory? Does the boy deserve no credit except in so far as be has acted 'freely'?
Moreover, how are we even to know which action should be rewarded? The determinist has no great difficulty in picking it out, for the mere sight of the struggle is to him an indicatioon that encouragement is needed and should be given. The 'free-willist' can, of
