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Its hatred of all systematic reasoning

"There might be different people on the other side of the canyon," suggested John in the momentary pause that followed.

"That is even less likely," said Mr. Sensible. "Human nature is always the same. The dress and the manners may vary, but I detect the unchanging heart69 beneath the shifting disguises. If there are men beyond the canyon, rest assured that we know them already. They are born and they die: and in the interval between they are the same lovable rascals that we know at home."

"Still," said John, "you can't really be certain that there is no such place as my Island. Reason left it an open question."

"Reason!" exclaimed Mr. Sensible. "Do you mean the mad woman who goes riding about the country dressed up in armour? I trust that when I spoke of the reasonable life you did not think that I meant anything under her auspices? There is a strange confusion in our language here, for the reasonableness which I commend has no more dangerous enemy than Reason. Perhaps I should drop the use of the name altogether, and say that my deity is not reasons but le von sens70."

"What is the difference?" said Vertue.

"Sense is easy, Reason is hard. Sense knows where to stop with gracious inconsistency, while Reason slavishly follows and abstract logic whither she knows not. The one seeks comfort and finds it, the other seeks truth and is still seeking. Le bon sens is the father of a flourishing family: Reason is barren and a virgin. If I had my way I should clap this Reason of your in the bridewell71 to pursue her meditations in the straw. The baggage has a pretty face, I allow: but she leads us from our true aim--joy, pleasure, ease, content, whate'er the name! She is a fanatic who has never learned form my master to pursue the golden mean, and, being mortal, to think mortal thoughts. Auream quisquis72--"

"It is very odd that you should say that," interrupted Vertue, "for I also was brought up on Aristotle. But I think my text must have differed from yours. In mine, the doctrine of the Mean does not bear the sense you have given it at all. He specially says that there is no excess of goodness. You cannot go too far in the right direction. The line that we should follow may start from a middle point in the base of a triangle: but the further off the apex is, the better. In that dimension--"

Its ignorant and dilettante scepticism

"Do manus73!" broke out Mr. Sensible. "Spare us the rest, young man. We are not at a lecture, and I readily admit that your scholarship is more recent than mine. Philosophy should be our mistress, no our master: and the pursuit of a pedantic accuracy amidst the freedom of our social pleasures is as unwelcome as--"

"And the bit about thinking mortal thoughts," continued Vertue, whose social experience, as I dreamed, was not extensive, "the bit about mortal thoughts was quoted by Aristotle to say that he disagreed with it. He held that the end of mortal life was to put on immortality as much as might be. And he also said the most useless of studies was the noblest."

"I see you are letter-perfect, young man," said Mr. Sensible, with a rather chilly smile, "and I am sure these pieces of information, if repeated to your teachers, would win the applause they deserve. Here, if you will forgive me, they are a little out of place. A gentleman's knowledge of the ancient authors is not that of a pedant: and I think you have misunderstood the place which philosophy ought to hold in the reasonable life. We do not memorize systems. What system can stand? What system does not leave us with the old refrain--que sais--je74? It is in her power to remind us of the strangeness of things--in the brown charm75 of her secluded meditations--above all, in her decorative function--that philosophy becomes instrumental to the good life. We go to the Porch and the Academy76 to be spectators, not partisans. Drudge!!"

"Dinner is served, sir," said Drudge, appearing at the door.

Then I dreamed that they went into the dining-room and so to table.

CHAPTER FIVE

Table Talk

The cowslip wine came with the oysters. it was a little rough, as the old gentleman had prophesied, and the glasses were so very small that Vertue drained his at once. John was afraid that there might be no more to come and therefore dallied over his, partly because he feared that he might put his host out of countenance and partly because he

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