“Well, that will be its concern.”

“But surely, on your own theory, it must also be yours; for you said that the later was also the better.  And the better, I suppose, is what you want to attain.”

“Well!”

“Well then, in supporting the ideas and institutions generally current, you may be hindering instead of helping the realization of the Good you want to achieve.”

“But I don’t believe Nietzsche’s ideas ever could represent the Good!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.”

“But, at any rate, do you abandon the position that we can take the ideas of our time as a final criterion?”

“I suppose so—­I don’t know—­I’m sure there’s something in it!  Do you believe yourself that they have no import for us?”

“I didn’t say that; but I think we have to find what the import is.  We cannot substitute for our own judgment the mere fact of a current convention, any more than we can substitute the mere fact of the tendency of Nature.  For, after all, it is the part of a moral reformer to modify the convention.  Or do you not think so?”

“Perhaps,” he admitted, “it may be!”

“Perhaps it may be!” cried Leslie, “but palpably it is!  Is there any institution or law or opinion you could name which is not open to obvious criticism?  Take what you will—­parliamentary government, the family, the law of real property—­is there one of them that could be adequately and successfully defended?”

“Certainly!” began Parry, with some indignation.  “The family—­”

“Oh,” I interrupted, “we are not yet in a position to discuss that!  But upon one thing we seem to be agreed—­that whatever may be the value of current standards of Good in assisting our judgment, we cannot permit them simply to supersede it by an act of authority.  And so once more we are thrown back each upon his own opinions.”

“To which, according to you,” interposed Parry, “we are bound to attach some validity.”

“And yet which we are aware,” added Ellis, “cannot possibly have any.”

I was about to protest against this remark when I saw, coming round from the garden, Bartlett and Dennis, the two remaining members of our party.  They had just returned from a mountaineering expedition; and now, having had their bath, had come out to join us in our usual place of assembly.  Bartlett had in his hand the Times and the Daily Chronicle.  He was a keen business man, and a Radical politician of some note; and though not naturally inclined to speculative thought, would sometimes take part in our discussions if ever they seemed to touch on any practical issue.  On these occasions his remarks were often very much to the point; but his manner being somewhat aggressive and polemic, his interposition did not always tend to make smooth the course of debate.  It was therefore with mingled feelings of satisfaction and anxiety that I greeted his return.  After some talk about their expedition, he turned to me and said, “We ought to apologise, I suppose, for interrupting a discussion?”