readily enough believe to be good, at any rate upon a superficial view of it.  But now, suppose us to have reached the point at which the opposite movement begins; suppose what we had to look forward to and to describe as the course of Nature were a process, not from simple to complex, from homogeneous to heterogeneous, or whatever the formula may be, but one in exactly the contrary direction, a dissolution of society into its individuals, of animals into the cells of which they are composed, of life into chemistry, of chemistry into mechanism, and so on through the scale of Being, reversing the whole course of evolution—­should we, in such a case, still have to say that the process of Nature was right, and that she is to give the law to our judgment about Good?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I think we should; and for this reason.  Only those who do on the whole approve the course of Nature have the qualities enabling them to survive; the others will, in the long run, be eliminated.  There is thus a constant tendency to harmonize opinions with the actual process of the world; and that, no doubt, is why we approve what you call the upward movement, which is the one in which Nature is at present engaged.  But, for the same reason, if, or when, a movement in the opposite direction should set in, people holding opinions like ours will tend to be eliminated, while those will tend to survive more and more who approve the current of evolution then prevailing.”

“And in this way,” said Ellis, “an exquisite unanimity will be at last attained, by the simple process of eliminating the dissentients!”

“Precisely!”

“Well,” cried Leslie, “no doubt that will be very satisfactory for the people who survive; but it does not help us much.  What we want to know is, what we are to judge to be Good, not what somebody else will be made to judge, centuries hence.”

“And for my part,” said Ellis, “I’m not much impressed by the argument you attribute to Nature, that if we don’t agree with her we shall be knocked on the head.  I, for instance, happen to object strongly to her whole procedure:  I don’t much believe in the harmony of the final consummation—­even if it were to be final, and not merely the turn of the tide; and I am sensibly aware of the horrible discomfort of the intermediate stages, the pushing, kicking, trampling of the host, and the wounded and dead left behind on the march.  Of all this I venture to disapprove; then comes Nature and says, ‘but you ought to approve!’ I ask why, and she says, ‘Because the procedure is mine.’  I still demur, and she comes down on me with a threat—­’Very good, approve or no, as you like; but if you don’t approve you will be eliminated!’ ’By all means,’ I say, and cling to my old opinion with the more affection that I feel myself invested with something of the glory of a martyr.  Nature, it seems, is waiting for me round the corner because I venture to stick to my principles.  ‘Ruat caelum!’ I cry; and in my humble opinion it’s Nature, not I, that cuts a poor figure!”