"Yes."

"And in the one case we say that the man does right, when he stays and
fights; and in the other that he does wrong, when he runs away?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, then, how does your theory of instincts help us to know what is
Good? For it seems that after all we have to choose between instincts,
to approve one and condemn another. And our problem still remains, how
can we do this? how can we get any certainty of standard?"

"Perhaps the faculty that judges is itself an instinct?"

"Perhaps it is," I replied, "I don't really know what an instinct is.
My quarrel is not with the word instinct, but with what seemed to
be your assumption that whatever it is in us that judges about Good
judges in a single, uniform, infallible way. Whereas, in fact, as you
had to admit, sometimes at the same moment it pronounces judgments not
only diverse but contradictory."

"But," he replied, "those seem to me to be exceptional cases. As
a rule the difficulty doesn't occur. When it does, I admit that we
require a criterion. But I should expect to find it in science rather
than in philosophy."

"In science!" exclaimed Leslie. "What has science to do with it?"

"What has _not_ science to do with?" said a new voice from behind. It
was Wilson who, in his turn, had joined us from the breakfast room (he