When Norton wandered into the intricacies of Kant, Kreis reminded him that all good little German philosophies when they died went to Oxford.  A little later Norton reminded them of Hamilton’s Law of Parsimony, the application of which they immediately claimed for every reasoning process of theirs.  And Martin hugged his knees and exulted in it all.  But Norton was no Spencerian, and he, too, strove for Martin’s philosophic soul, talking as much at him as to his two opponents.

“You know Berkeley has never been answered,” he said, looking directly at Martin.  “Herbert Spencer came the nearest, which was not very near.  Even the stanchest of Spencer’s followers will not go farther.  I was reading an essay of Saleeby’s the other day, and the best Saleeby could say was that Herbert Spencer nearly succeeded in answering Berkeley.”

“You know what Hume said?” Hamilton asked.  Norton nodded, but Hamilton gave it for the benefit of the rest.  “He said that Berkeley’s arguments admit of no answer and produce no conviction.”

“In his, Hume’s, mind,” was the reply.  “And Hume’s mind was the same as yours, with this difference:  he was wise enough to admit there was no answering Berkeley.”

Norton was sensitive and excitable, though he never lost his head, while Kreis and Hamilton were like a pair of cold-blooded savages, seeking out tender places to prod and poke.  As the evening grew late, Norton, smarting under the repeated charges of being a metaphysician, clutching his chair to keep from jumping to his feet, his gray eyes snapping and his girlish face grown harsh and sure, made a grand attack upon their position.

“All right, you Haeckelites, I may reason like a medicine man, but, pray, how do you reason?  You have nothing to stand on, you unscientific dogmatists with your positive science which you are always lugging about into places it has no right to be.  Long before the school of materialistic monism arose, the ground was removed so that there could be no foundation.  Locke was the man, John Locke.  Two hundred years ago—­more than that, even in his ’Essay concerning the Human Understanding,’ he proved the non-existence of innate ideas.  The best of it is that that is precisely what you claim.  To-night, again and again, you have asserted the non-existence of innate ideas.

“And what does that mean?  It means that you can never know ultimate reality.  Your brains are empty when you are born.  Appearances, or phenomena, are all the content your minds can receive from your five senses.  Then noumena, which are not in your minds when you are born, have no way of getting in—­”

“I deny—­” Kreis started to interrupt.

“You wait till I’m done,” Norton shouted.  “You can know only that much of the play and interplay of force and matter as impinges in one way or another on our senses.  You see, I am willing to admit, for the sake of the argument, that matter exists; and what I am about to do is to efface you by your own argument.  I can’t do it any other way, for you are both congenitally unable to understand a philosophic abstraction.”