“No doubt there is,” said Wilson, “but I shouldn’t say that is the only reason for our delight in Knowledge.  The fact is, Knowledge is an extension of experience, and is good simply as such.  The sense of More and still More beyond what has yet been discovered, of new facts, new successions, new combinations, of ever fresh appeals to our interest, our wonder, our admiration, the mere excitement of discovery for its own sake, quite apart from anything else to which it may lead, a dash of adventure, too, a heightening of life—­that is what is the real spur to science and, to my mind, its sufficient justification.”

“But,” I objected, “that is rather an account of the general process of Experience than of the special one of Knowledge.  No doubt there is an attraction in all activity—­Ellis has already expounded it; and all experience involves a kind of Knowledge; but what we wanted to get at was the special attraction of scientific activity; and that seems to be, so far as I can see, simply the discovery of order.”

“Well,” he said, “if you like—­what then?”

“Why, then,” I said, “we can easily see the defect in this kind of activity, when viewed from the standpoint of Good.”

“What is it?”

“Why, clearly, that that in which we discover the order may be bad.  There is a science of disease as well as of health; and an activity concerned with the Bad could hardly be purely good, even though it were a discovery of order in the Bad.  Or do you think that if all men were diseased, they would nevertheless be in possession of the Good, if only they had perfect knowledge of the laws of disease?”

“No,” he said, “of course not.  We have to take into account, not only the character of Knowledge, but the character of the object known.”

“Quite so, that is my point.  You agree then with me that Knowledge may be in various ways good, but that in so far as it is, or may be knowledge of Bad, it cannot be said by itself to constitute the Good.”

“I think,” he agreed, “that I might admit that.”

“Well, then,” I said, “let us leave it there.  And now, what has Dennis to say?”

“Ah!” he said, “you unmuzzle me at last.  It has really been very hard to sit by in silence and listen to these heresies without a protest.”

“Heresies!” retorted Wilson, “if it comes to that, which of us is the heretic?”

“What,” I asked, “is the point of disagreement?”

“It’s a fundamental one.  On Wilson’s view, Knowledge is merely the discovery of order among our perceptions.  If that were all, I shouldn’t value it much.  But on my view, it is the discovery of necessary connection; and in the necessity lies the fascination.”

“But where,” argued Wilson, “do you find your necessity?  All that is really given is succession.  The necessity is merely what we read into the facts.”

“Not at all!  The necessity is ‘given,’ as you call it, as much as anything else, if only you choose to look for it.  The type of all Knowledge is mathematical knowledge; and all mathematical knowledge is necessary.”