The lives of most men are determined by their environment. They accept the circumstancesamid which fate has thrown them not only with resignation but even with good will. They arelike streetcars running contentedly on their rails and they despise the sprightly flivver thatdashes in and out of the traffic and speeds so jauntily across the open country. I respectthem;they are good citizens, good husbands, and good fathers, and of course somebody hasto pay the taxes; but I do not find them exciting. I am fascinated by the men, few enough in allconscience, who take life in their own hands and seem to mould it to their own liking. It may bethat we have no such thing as free will, but at all events we have the illusion ofit. At acrossroad it does seem to us that we might go either to the right or the left and, the choiceonce made, it is difficult to see that the whole course of the world's history obliged us to takethe turning we did.