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colossally than Napoleon or Caesar。 I know where flames the fixed
star of certainty and success。 I can guide you to the thrones of
the Super…men。 The men who really believe in themselves are all in
lunatic asylums。〃 He said mildly that there were a good many men after
all who believed in themselves and who were not in lunatic asylums。
〃Yes； there are；〃 I retorted； 〃and you of all men ought to know them。
That drunken poet from whom you would not take a dreary tragedy；
he believed in himself。 That elderly minister with an epic from
whom you were hiding in a back room； he believed in himself。
If you consulted your business experience instead of your ugly
individualistic philosophy； you would know that believing in himself
is one of the commonest signs of a rotter。 Actors who can't
act believe in themselves； and debtors who won't pay。 It would
be much truer to say that a man will certainly fail； because he
believes in himself。 Complete self…confidence is not merely a sin；
complete self…confidence is a weakness。 Believing utterly in one's
self is a hysterical and superstitious belief like believing in
Joanna Southcote： the man who has it has ‘Hanwell' written on his
face as plain as it is written on that omnibus。〃 And to all this
my friend the publisher made this very deep and effective reply；
〃Well； if a man is not to believe in himself； in what is he to believe？〃
After a long pause I replied； 〃I will go home and write a book in answer
to that question。〃 This is the book that I have written in answer
to it。
But I think this book may well start where our argument started
in the neighbourhood of the mad…house。 Modern masters of science are
much impressed with the need of beginning all inquiry with a fact。
The ancient masters of religion were quite equally impressed with
that necessity。 They began with the fact of sina fact as practical
as potatoes。 Whether or no man could be washed in miraculous
waters； there was no doubt at any rate that he wanted washing。
But certain religious leaders in London； not mere materialists；
have begun in our day not to deny the highly disputable water；
but to deny the indisputable dirt。 Certain new theologians dispute
original sin； which is the only part of Christian theology which can
really be proved。 Some followers of the Reverend R。J。Campbell； in
their almost too fastidious spirituality； admit divine sinlessness；
which they cannot see even in their dreams。 But they essentially
deny human sin； which they can see in the street。 The strongest
saints and the strongest sceptics alike took positive evil as the
starting…point of their argument。 If it be true （as it certainly is）
that a man can feel exquisite happiness in skinning a cat；
then the religious philosopher can only draw one of two deductions。
He must either deny the existence of God； as all atheists do； or he
must deny the present union between God and man； as all Christians do。
The new theologians seem to think it a highly rationalistic solution
to deny the cat。
In this remarkable situation it is plainly not now possible
（with any hope of a universal appeal） to start； as our fathers did；
with the fact of sin。 This very fact which was to them （and is to me）
as plain as a pikestaff； is the very fact that has been specially
diluted or denied。 But though moderns deny the existence of sin；
I do not think that they have yet denied the existence of a
lunatic asylum。 We all agree still that there is a collapse of
the intellect as unmistakable as a falling house。 Men deny hell；
but not； as yet； Hanwell。 For the purpose of our primary argument
the one may very well stand where the other stood。 I mean that as
all thoughts and theories were once judged by whether they tended
to make a man lose his soul； so for our present purpose all modern
thoughts and theories may be judged by whether they tend to make
a man lose his wits。
It is true that some speak lightly and loosely of insanity
as in itself attractive。 But a moment's thought will show that if
disease is beautiful； it is generally some one else's disease。
A blind man may be picturesque； but it requires two eyes to see
the picture。 And similarly even the wildest poetry of insanity can
only be enjoyed by the sane。 To the insane man his insanity is
quite prosaic； because it is quite true。 A man who thinks himself
a chicken is to himself as ordinary as a chicken。 A man who thinks
he is a bit of glass is to himself as dull as a bit of glass。
It is the homogeneity of his mind which makes him dull； and which
makes him mad。 It is only because we see the irony of his idea
that we think him even amusing； it is only because he does not see
the irony of his idea that he is put in Hanwell at all。 In short；
oddities only strike ordinary people。 Oddities do not strike
odd people。 This is why ordinary people have a much more exciting time；
while odd people are always complaining of the dulness of life。
This is also why the new novels die so quickly； and why the old
fairy tales endure for ever。 The old fairy tale makes the hero
a normal human boy； it is his adventures that are startling；
they startle him because he is normal。 But in the modern
psychological novel the hero is abnormal； the centre is not central。
Hence the fiercest adventures fail to affect him adequately；
and the book is monotonous。 You can make a story out of a hero
among dragons； but not out of a dragon among dragons。 The fairy
tale discusses what a sane man will do in a mad world。 The sober
realistic novel of to…day discusses what an essential lunatic will
do in a dull world。
Let us begin； then； with the mad…house； from this evil and fantastic
inn let us set forth on our intellectual journey。 Now； if we are
to glance at the philosophy of sanity； the first thing to do in the
matter is to blot out one big and common mistake。 There is a notion
adrift everywhere that imagination； especially mystical imagination；
is dangerous to man's mental balance。 Poets are commonly spoken of as
psychologically unreliable； and generally there is a vague association
between wreathing laurels in your hair and sticking straws in it。
Facts and history utterly contradict this view。 Most of the very
great poets have been not only sane； but extremely business…like；
and if Shakespeare ever really held horses； it was because he was much
the safest man to hold them。 Imagination does not breed insanity。
Exactly what does breed insanity is reason。 Poets do not go mad；
but chess