“There!” I exclaimed.  “No one, I suppose, would identify that with Good?”

“But”—­objected Dennis—­“in the first place, I don’t understand the definition; and, in the second place, I don’t agree with it.”

“As to understanding it,” replied Wilson, “there need be no difficulty there.  You have only to seize clearly one or two main positions.  First, that Knowledge is of perceptions only, not of things in themselves; secondly, that these perceptions occur in fixed routines; thirdly ...”

“But,” interrupted Dennis, “what is a perception?  I suppose it’s a perception of something?”

“No,” he said, “I don’t know that it is.”

“What then?  Simply a state in me?”

“Very likely.”

“Then does nothing exist except my states?”

“Nothing else exists primarily for you.”

“Then what about the world before I existed, and after I cease to exist?”

“You infer such a world from your states.”

“Then there is something besides my states—­this world which I infer; and that, I suppose, and not merely my perceptions, is the reality of which I have knowledge?”

“Not exactly,” he replied, “the fact is ...”

“I don’t think,” I interrupted, “that we ought to plunge into a discussion of the nature of Reality.  It is Good with which we are at present concerned.”

“But,” said Dennis, “we wanted to find out the connection of Knowledge with Good; and to do so we must first discover what Knowledge is.”

“Well then,” I said, “let us first take Wilson’s account of Knowledge, and see what he makes of that with regard to Good; and then we will take yours, and see what we make of that.  And if we don’t find that either satisfies the requirements of Good we will leave Knowledge and go on to something else.”

“Very well,” he replied, “I am content, so long as I get my chance.”

“You shall have your chance.  But first we will take Wilson.  And I dare say he will not keep us long.  For you will hardly maintain, I suppose,” I continued, turning to him, “that Knowledge, as you define it, could be identified with Good?”

“I don’t know,” he said; “to tell the truth, I don’t much believe in Good, in any absolute sense.  But that Knowledge, as I define it, is a good thing, I have no doubt whatever.”

“Neither have I,” I replied; “but good, as it seems to me, mainly as a means, in so far as it enables us to master Nature.”

“Well,” he said, “and what greater Good could there be?”

“I don’t dispute the greatness of such a Good.  I merely wish to point out that if we look at it so, it is in the mastery of Nature that the Good in question consists, and not in the Knowledge itself.  Or should you say that there is Good in the scientific activity itself, quite apart from any practical results to which it may lead?”

“Certainly,” he replied, “and the former, in my opinion, is the higher and more ideal Good.”