and the vision of failure. Ibsen has only one--Hell.
It is often said, and with perfect truth, that no one could read
a play like GHOSTS and remain indifferent to the necessity of an
ethical self-command. That is quite true, and the same is to be said
of the most monstrous and material descriptions of the eternal fire.
It is quite certain the realists like Zola do in one sense promote
morality--they promote it in the sense in which the hangman
promotes it, in the sense in which the devil promotes it.
But they only affect that small minority which will accept
any virtue of courage. Most healthy people dismiss these moral
dangers as they dismiss the possibility of bombs or microbes.
Modern realists are indeed Terrorists, like the dynamiters;
and they fail just as much in their effort to create a thrill.
Both realists and dynamiters are well-meaning people engaged
in the task, so obviously ultimately hopeless, of using science
to promote morality.

I do not wish the reader to confuse me for a moment with those vague
persons who imagine that Ibsen is what they call a pessimist.
There are plenty of wholesome people in Ibsen, plenty of
good people, plenty of happy people, plenty of examples of men
acting wisely and things ending well. That is not my meaning.
My meaning is that Ibsen has throughout, and does not disguise,
a certain vagueness and a changing attitude as well as a doubting
attitude towards what is really wisdom and virtue in this life--
a vagueness which contrasts very remarkably with the decisiveness
with which he pounces on something which he perceives to be a root
of evil, some convention, some deception, some ignorance.
We know that the hero of GHOSTS is mad, and we know why he is mad.
We do also know that Dr. Stockman is sane; but we do not know