As he concluded, Ellis exclaimed softly,"‘Parturiunt montes,’” and Leslie took it up with:  “And not even a mouse!”

“Whether it is a mouse or no,” I said, “it would be hard to say, until we had examined it more closely.  At present it seems to me more like a cloud, which may or may not conceal the goddess Truth.  But the question I really want to ask is, What particular advantage Wilson gets from the biological method?  For the conclusion itself, I suppose, might have been reached, and commonly is, without any recourse to the aid of natural science.”

“No doubt,” he said, “but my contention is, that it is only by the scientific method that you get proof.  You, for example, may assert that you believe the social virtues ought to prevail over individual passions; but if your position were challenged, I don’t see how you would defend it.  Whereas I can simply point to the whole evolution of Nature as tending towards the Good I advocate; and can say:—­if you resist that tendency you are resisting Nature herself!”

“But isn’t it rather odd,” said Ellis, “that we should be able to resist Nature?”

“Not at all,” he replied, “for our very resistance is part of the plan; it’s the lower stage persisting into the higher, but destined sooner or later to be absorbed.”

“I see,” I said, “and the keynote of your position is, as you said at the beginning, that Good is simply what Nature wants.  So that, instead of looking within to find our criterion, we ought really to look without, to discover, if we can, the tendency of Nature and to acquiesce in that as the goal of our aspiration.”

“Precisely,” he replied, “that is the position.”

“Well,” I said, “it is plausible enough; but the plausibility, I am inclined to think, comes from the fact that you have been able to make out, more or less, that the tendency of Nature is in the direction which, on the whole, we prefer.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” I said, “supposing your biological researches had led you to just the opposite conclusion, that the tendency of Nature was not from the cell to the animal, and from the individual to society, but in precisely the reverse direction, so that the end of all things was a resolution into the primitive elements—­do you think you would have been as ready to assert that it is the goal of Nature that must determine our ideal of Good?”

“But why consider such a hypothetical case?”

“I am not so sure,” I replied, “that it is more hypothetical than the other.  At any rate it is a hypothesis adopted by one of your authorities.  Mr. Herbert Spencer, you will remember, conceives the process of Nature to be one, not, as you appear to think, of continuous progress, but rather of a circular movement, from the utmost simplicity to the utmost complexity of Being, and back again to the original condition.  What you were describing is the movement which we call upward, and which we can