al process of deliberation, in which each alternative
is weighed and the decision awarded to the one that promises best.
This is essentially a work of imagination: you imagine that you have
adopted the one alternative, and see how it suits you, then you do the
same with the other alternative. You think each {532} alternative
through to see how satisfactory it will be, balance one against the
other, and choose accordingly. This is ideal, but often impracticable,
since we have not the time for full deliberation, or since we cannot
trust imagination to give us a correct picture, or since we have no
common measure by aid of which to balance off different sorts of
satisfaction. Even when practicable, the deliberate way of reaching a
decision is likely to seem irksome, because of the delay involved and
the natural propensity for impulsive action. Perhaps the most common
process is a sort of partial deliberation, the two alternatives
appealing to us by turns till at some moment one makes a strong enough
appeal to secure action.

Sometimes there is a deadlock, and then we either give up deciding for
the moment, and, sleeping over the matter, find when we next take it
up that one alternative has lost its momentary attractiveness and the
other has the field; or else, feeling the irksomeness and humiliation,
almost, of being unable to make up our mind, we say, "Any decision is
better than none; here goes, then; _this_ is what I will do", so
breaking the deadlock by what seems like an arbitrary toss-up.

At other times, without such a distinct "act of will", and without any
observable change in the attractiveness of either alternative, we
simply find, after awhile, that a decision has emerged, and that we
now know what we are going to do. What has happened in us to bring
about the decision we cannot see, but here we are with a decision made
and perhaps with the act already performed. The two alternatives
remain theoretically equal, but one has somehow got hold of us, while
the other has lapsed.

Then there is the case where we "see the better, but follow the
worse", or are in great danger of so doing. The "worse" is usually
something that appeals to the {533} "old Adam" in us, something that
strongly arouses a primitive instinctive response; while the "better"
is a nobler, more dutiful, or more prudent course. The lower motive
being the stronger, how can it ever be that the higher motive gets the
decision? Well, the fight is not