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actually is the chief mark and element of insanity； we may say
in summary that it is reason used without root； reason in the void。
The man who begins to think without the proper first principles goes mad；
he begins to think at the wrong end。 And for the rest of these pages
we have to try and discover what is the right end。 But we may ask
in conclusion； if this be what drives men mad； what is it that keeps
them sane？ By the end of this book I hope to give a definite；
some will think a far too definite； answer。 But for the moment it
is possible in the same solely practical manner to give a general
answer touching what in actual human history keeps men sane。
Mysticism keeps men sane。 As long as you have mystery you have health；
when you destroy mystery you create morbidity。 The ordinary man has
always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic。
He has permitted the twilight。 He has always had one foot in earth
and the other in fairyland。 He has always left himself free to doubt
his gods； but （unlike the agnostic of to…day） free also to believe
in them。 He has always cared more for truth than for consistency。
If he saw two truths that seemed to contradict each other；
he would take the two truths and the contradiction along with them。
His spiritual sight is stereoscopic； like his physical sight：
he sees two different pictures at once and yet sees all the better
for that。 Thus he has always believed that there was such a thing
as fate； but such a thing as free will also。 Thus he believed
that children were indeed the kingdom of heaven； but nevertheless
ought to be obedient to the kingdom of earth。 He admired youth
because it was young and age because it was not。 It is exactly
this balance of apparent contradictions that has been the whole
buoyancy of the healthy man。 The whole secret of mysticism is this：
that man can understand everything by the help of what he does
not understand。 The morbid logician seeks to make everything lucid；
and succeeds in making everything mysterious。 The mystic allows
one thing to be mysterious； and everything else becomes lucid。
The determinist makes the theory of causation quite clear；
and then finds that he cannot say 〃if you please〃 to the housemaid。
The Christian permits free will to remain a sacred mystery； but because
of this his relations with the housemaid become of a sparkling and
crystal clearness。 He puts the seed of dogma in a central darkness；
but it branches forth in all directions with abounding natural health。
As we have taken the circle as the symbol of reason and madness；
we may very well take the cross as the symbol at once of mystery and
of health。 Buddhism is centripetal； but Christianity is centrifugal：
it breaks out。 For the circle is perfect and infinite in its nature；
but it is fixed for ever in its size； it can never be larger
or smaller。 But the cross； though it has at its heart a collision
and a contradiction； can extend its four arms for ever without
altering its shape。 Because it has a paradox in its centre it can
grow without changing。 The circle returns upon itself and is bound。
The cross opens its arms to the four winds； it is a signpost for free
travellers。
Symbols alone are of even a cloudy value in speaking of this
deep matter； and another symbol from physical nature will express
sufficiently well the real place of mysticism before mankind。
The one created thing which we cannot look at is the one thing in
the light of which we look at everything。 Like the sun at noonday；
mysticism explains everything else by the blaze of its own
victorious invisibility。 Detached intellectualism is （in the
exact sense of a popular phrase） all moonshine； for it is light
without heat； and it is secondary light； reflected from a dead world。
But the Greeks were right when they made Apollo the god both of
imagination and of sanity； for he was both the patron of poetry
and the patron of healing。 Of necessary dogmas and a special creed
I shall speak later。 But that transcendentalism by which all men
live has primarily much the position of the sun in the sky。
We are conscious of it as of a kind of splendid confusion；
it is something both shining and shapeless； at once a blaze and
a blur。 But the circle of the moon is as clear and unmistakable；
as recurrent and inevitable； as the circle of Euclid on a blackboard。
For the moon is utterly reasonable； and the moon is the mother
of lunatics and has given to them all her name。
III THE SUICIDE OF THOUGHT
The phrases of the street are not only forcible but subtle：
for a figure of speech can often get into a crack too small for
a definition。 Phrases like 〃put out〃 or 〃off colour〃 might have
been coined by Mr。 Henry James in an agony of verbal precision。
And there is no more subtle truth than that of the everyday phrase
about a man having 〃his heart in the right place。〃 It involves the
idea of normal proportion； not only does a certain function exist；
but it is rightly related to other functions。 Indeed； the negation
of this phrase would describe with peculiar accuracy the somewhat morbid
mercy and perverse tenderness of the most representative moderns。
If； for instance； I had to describe with fairness the character
of Mr。 Bernard Shaw； I could not express myself more exactly
than by saying that he has a heroically large and generous heart；
but not a heart in the right place。 And this is so of the typical
society of our time。
The modern world is not evil； in some ways the modern
world is far too good。 It is full of wild and wasted virtues。
When a religious scheme is shattered （as Christianity was shattered
at the Reformation）； it is not merely the vices that are let loose。
The vices are； indeed； let loose； and they wander and do damage。
But the virtues are let loose also； and the virtues wander
more wildly； and the virtues do more terrible damage。 The modern
world is full of the old Christian virtues gone mad。 The virtues
have gone mad because they have been isolated from each other
and are wandering alone。 Thus some scientists care for truth；
and their truth is pitiless。 Thus some humanitarians only care
for pity； and their pity （I am sorry to say） is often untruthful。
For example； Mr。 Blatchford attacks Christianity because he is mad
on one Christian virtue： the merely mystical and almost irrational
virtue of charity。 He has a strange idea that he will make it
easier to forgive sins by saying that there are no sins t