cut phenomena, external to the self which experiences them, and this leads to a curious balancing of pain and pleasure on purely utilitarian lines, turning the mind into a calculating machine such as one might find in a shop or counting-house, and taking no account of the character of the self that “wills.”  There is, really, in such a system of psychology, no room for self-expression, indeed, no meaning left for the term “self.”  It is only an inaccurate psychology, misled by language, which tries to show us the soul determined by sympathy, aversion, or hate, as though by so many forces pressing upon it from without.  These feelings, provided that they go deep enough, make up the whole soul; in them the character of the individual expresses itself, since the whole content of the personality or soul is reflected in each of them.  Then my character is “me.”  “To say that the soul is determined under the influence of any one of these feelings, is thus to recognize that it is self-determined.  The associationist reduces the self to an aggregate of conscious states, sensations, feelings, and ideas.  But if he sees in these various states no more than is expressed in their name, if he retains only their impersonal aspect, he may set them side by side for ever without getting anything but a phantom self, the shadow of the Ego, projecting itself into space.  If, on the contrary, he takes these psychical states with the particular colouring which they assume in the case of a definite person, and which comes to each of them by reflection from all the others, then there is no need to associate a number of conscious states in order to rebuild the person, for the whole personality is in a single one of them, provided that we know how to choose it.  And the outward manifestation of this inner state will be just what is called a free act, since the self alone will have been the author of it and since it will express the whole of the self.” [Footnote:  Time and Free Will, pp. 165-166 (Fr. pp. 126-127).] There is then room in the universe for a Freedom of the human Will, a definite creative activity, delivering us from the bonds of grim necessity and fate in which the physical sciences and the associationist psychology alike would bind us.  Freedom, then, is a fact, and among the facts which we observe, asserts Bergson, there is none clearer. [Footnote:  Time and Free Will, p. 221 (Fr. p. 169).] There are, however, one or two things which bear vitally upon the question of Freedom and which tend to obscure the issue.  Of these, the foremost is that once we have acted in a particular manner we look back upon our actions and try to explain them with particular reference to their immediate antecedents.  Here is where the mischief which gives rise to the whole controversy has its origin.  We make static what is essentially dynamic in character.  We call a process a thing.  There is no such “thing” as Freedom; it is a relation between the self and its action.  Indeed, it is only characteristic