that the most that we can do is to set up a few notice-boards
at places of obvious danger, to warn men, for instance,
against drinking themselves to death, or ignoring the mere
existence of their neighbours. Ibsen is the first to return
from the baffled hunt to bring us the tidings of great failure.

Every one of the popular modern phrases and ideals is
a dodge in order to shirk the problem of what is good.
We are fond of talking about "liberty"; that, as we talk of it,
is a dodge to avoid discussing what is good. We are fond of talking
about "progress"; that is a dodge to avoid discussing what is good.
We are fond of talking about "education"; that is a dodge
to avoid discussing what is good. The modern man says, "Let us
leave all these arbitrary standards and embrace liberty."
This is, logically rendered, "Let us not decide what is good,
but let it be considered good not to decide it." He says,
"Away with your old moral formulae; I am for progress."
This, logically stated, means, "Let us not settle what is good;
but let us settle whether we are getting more of it."
He says, "Neither in religion nor morality, my friend, lie the hopes
of the race, but in education." This, clearly expressed,
means, "We cannot decide what is good, but let us give it
to our children."

Mr. H.G. Wells, that exceedingly clear-sighted man, has pointed out in a
recent work that this has happened in connection with economic questions.
The old economists, he says, made generalizations, and they were
(in Mr. Wells's view) mostly wrong. But the new economists, he says,
seem to have lost the power of making any generalizations at all.
And they cover this incapacity with a general claim to be, in specific cases,