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but a touch of suicidal mania。 The mere questioner has knocked
his head against the limits of human thought； and cracked it。
This is what makes so futile the warnings of the orthodox and the
boasts of the advanced about the dangerous boyhood of free thought。
What we are looking at is not the boyhood of free thought； it is
the old age and ultimate dissolution of free thought。 It is vain
for bishops and pious bigwigs to discuss what dreadful things will
happen if wild scepticism runs its course。 It has run its course。
It is vain for eloquent atheists to talk of the great truths that
will be revealed if once we see free thought begin。 We have seen
it end。 It has no more questions to ask； it has questioned itself。
You cannot call up any wilder vision than a city in which men
ask themselves if they have any selves。 You cannot fancy a more
sceptical world than that in which men doubt if there is a world。
It might certainly have reached its bankruptcy more quickly
and cleanly if it had not been feebly hampered by the application
of indefensible laws of blasphemy or by the absurd pretence
that modern England is Christian。 But it would have reached the
bankruptcy anyhow。 Militant atheists are still unjustly persecuted；
but rather because they are an old minority than because they
are a new one。 Free thought has exhausted its own freedom。
It is weary of its own success。 If any eager freethinker now hails
philosophic freedom as the dawn； he is only like the man in Mark
Twain who came out wrapped in blankets to see the sun rise and was
just in time to see it set。 If any frightened curate still says
that it will be awful if the darkness of free thought should spread；
we can only answer him in the high and powerful words of Mr。 Belloc；
〃Do not； I beseech you； be troubled about the increase of forces
already in dissolution。 You have mistaken the hour of the night：
it is already morning。〃 We have no more questions left to ask。
We have looked for questions in the darkest corners and on the
wildest peaks。 We have found all the questions that can be found。
It is time we gave up looking for questions and began looking
for answers。
But one more word must be added。 At the beginning of this
preliminary negative sketch I said that our mental ruin has
been wrought by wild reason； not by wild imagination。 A man
does not go mad because he makes a statue a mile high； but he
may go mad by thinking it out in square inches。 Now； one school
of thinkers has seen this and jumped at it as a way of renewing
the pagan health of the world。 They see that reason destroys；
but Will； they say； creates。 The ultimate authority； they say；
is in will； not in reason。 The supreme point is not why
a man demands a thing； but the fact that he does demand it。
I have no space to trace or expound this philosophy of Will。
It came； I suppose； through Nietzsche； who preached something
that is called egoism。 That； indeed； was simpleminded enough；
for Nietzsche denied egoism simply by preaching it。 To preach
anything is to give it away。 First； the egoist calls life a war
without mercy； and then he takes the greatest possible trouble to
drill his enemies in war。 To preach egoism is to practise altruism。
But however it began； the view is common enough in current literature。
The main defence of these thinkers is that they are not thinkers；
they are makers。 They say that choice is itself the divine thing。
Thus Mr。 Bernard Shaw has attacked the old idea that men's acts
are to be judged by the standard of the desire of happiness。
He says that a man does not act for his happiness； but from his will。
He does not say； 〃Jam will make me happy；〃 but 〃I want jam。〃
And in all this others follow him with yet greater enthusiasm。
Mr。 John Davidson； a remarkable poet； is so passionately excited
about it that he is obliged to write prose。 He publishes a short
play with several long prefaces。 This is natural enough in Mr。 Shaw；
for all his plays are prefaces： Mr。 Shaw is （I suspect） the only man
on earth who has never written any poetry。 But that Mr。 Davidson （who
can write excellent poetry） should write instead laborious metaphysics
in defence of this doctrine of will； does show that the doctrine
of will has taken hold of men。 Even Mr。 H。G。Wells has half spoken
in its language； saying that one should test acts not like a thinker；
but like an artist； saying； 〃I FEEL this curve is right；〃 or 〃that
line SHALL go thus。〃 They are all excited； and well they may be。
For by this doctrine of the divine authority of will； they think they
can break out of the doomed fortress of rationalism。 They think they
can escape。
But they cannot escape。 This pure praise of volition ends
in the same break up and blank as the mere pursuit of logic。
Exactly as complete free thought involves the doubting of thought itself；
so the acceptation of mere 〃willing〃 really paralyzes the will。
Mr。 Bernard Shaw has not perceived the real difference between the old
utilitarian test of pleasure （clumsy； of course； and easily misstated）
and that which he propounds。 The real difference between the test
of happiness and the test of will is simply that the test of
happiness is a test and the other isn't。 You can discuss whether
a man's act in jumping over a cliff was directed towards happiness；
you cannot discuss whether it was derived from will。 Of course
it was。 You can praise an action by saying that it is calculated
to bring pleasure or pain to discover truth or to save the soul。
But you cannot praise an action because it shows will； for to say
that is merely to say that it is an action。 By this praise of will
you cannot really choose one course as better than another。 And yet
choosing one course as better than another is the very definition
of the will you are praising。
The worship of will is the negation of will。 To admire mere
choice is to refuse to choose。 If Mr。 Bernard Shaw comes up
to me and says； 〃Will something；〃 that is tantamount to saying；
〃I do not mind what you will；〃 and that is tantamount to saying；
〃I have no will in the matter。〃 You cannot admire will in general；
because the essence of will is that it is particular。
A brilliant anarchist like Mr。 John Davidson feels an irritation
against ordinary morality； and therefore he invokes will
will to anything。 He only wants humanity to want something。
But humanity does want something。 It wants ordinary morality。
He rebels against the law and tells us to will something or anything。
But we have willed something。 We have willed the law against which
he rebels。
All the will…worshippers； from Nietzsche to Mr。 Davidson；
are really quite empty of volition。 They cannot will； they can
hardly wish。 And if any one wants a proof of this； it can be found
quite easily。 It can be found in this fact： that they always talk
of will as something that expands and breaks out。 But it is quite
the opposite。 Every act of will is an act of self…limitation。 To
desire action is to desire limitation。 In that sense every act
is an act of self…sacrifice。 When you choose anything； you reject
everything else。 That objection； which men of this school used
to make to the act of marriage； is really an objection to every act。
Every act is an irrevocable selection and exclusion。 Just as when
you marry one woman you give up all the others； so when you take
one course of action you give up all the other courses。 If you
become King of England； you give up the post of Beadle in Brompton。
If you go to Rome； you sacrifice a rich suggestive life in Wimbledon。
It is the existence of this negative or limiting side of will that
makes most of the talk of the anarchic will…worshippers little
better than nonsense。 For instance； Mr。 John Davidson tells us
to have nothing to do with 〃Thou shalt not〃； but it is surely obvious
that 〃Thou shalt not〃 is only one of the necessary corollaries
of 〃I will。〃 〃I will go to the Lord Mayor's Show； and thou shalt
not stop me。〃 Anarchism adjures us to be bold creative artists；
and care for no laws or limits。 But it is impossible to be
an artist and not care for laws and limits。 Art is limitation；
the essence of every picture is the frame。 If you draw a giraffe；
you must draw him with a long neck。 If； in your bold creative way；
you hold yourself free to draw a giraffe