Fussle.  I think this matter wants clearing up, Mr Germsell.  Why don’t you write a book on mental and emotional physics?

Mr Rollestone.  I would venture with great diffidence to remark that the confusion seems to me to arise from the limit we attach to the meaning of the word employed.  It may be quite true that no idea or emotion can exist except as the result of physical force; but it is also true that its effect must be conditioned on the quality of the force.  There is as wide a difference between the physical forces

operant in the brain, and which give rise to ideas, and those which move a steam-engine, as there is between mind and matter as popularly defined.  Both, as Mr Germsell will admit, are conditioned manifestations of force; but the one contains a vital element in its dynamism which the other does not.  You may apply as much physical force by means of a galvanic battery to a dead brain as you please, but you can’t strike an idea out of it; and this vital force, while it is “conditioned force,” like light and heat, differs in its mode of manifestation from every other manifestation of force, even more than they do from each other, in that it possesses a potency inherent to it, which they have not, and this potency it is which creates emotion and generates ideas.  The fallacy which underlies the whole of this system of philosophy is contained in the assumption that there is only one description of physical force in nature.

Germsell.  No more there is.  Why, Mr Spencer says that the law of metamorphosis which holds among the physical forces, holds equally between them and the mental forces; but mark you, what is the grand conclusion

at which he arrives?  I happen to remember the passage: “How this metamorphosis takes place; how a force existing, as motion, heat, or light, can become a mode of consciousness; how it is possible for aerial vibrations to generate the sensation we call sound; or for the forces liberated by chemical changes in the brain to give rise to emotion,—these are mysteries which it is impossible to fathom.”

Lord Fondleton [aside to Mrs Gloring].  What a jolly easy way of getting out of a difficulty!

Drygull.  Of course, if you admit such gross ignorance as to how it is possible for aerial vibrations “to generate the sensation we call sound,” I don’t wonder at your not hearing the tom-tom in the Himalayas we were listening to just now.  If you knew a little more about the astral law under which aerial vibrations may be generated, you would not call things impossible which you admit to be unfathomable mysteries.  If it is an unfathomable mystery how a sound is projected a mile, why do you refuse to admit the possibility of its being projected two, or two hundred, or two thousand?  Under the laws

which govern mysteries, which you say are unfathomable, if the mystery is unfathomable, so is the law, and you have no right to limit its action.

Rollestone.  To come back to the question of a possible distinction in the essential or inherent qualities of dynamic or physical forces.  There is nothing in the hypothesis which may not be reasonably assumed and tested by experiment; and before any man has a right to affirm that there is only one quality of physical force in nature, which, by undergoing transformation and metamorphosis, shall account for all its phenomena, I have a right to ask whether the hypothesis, that there may be another, has been experimentally tested.  It would then be time for me to accept the conclusion that there is only one, and that it is an unfathomable mystery how this one force should be able to perform all the functions attributed to it.

Germsell.  I admit that the forces called vital are correlates of the forces called physical, if you choose to call that a distinction; but their character is conditioned by the state of the brain, and it comes to the same thing in the end.  The seat of emotion as well as of

thought is the brain, and it entirely depends on its chemical constitution, on its circulation, and on other causes affecting that organ, what you think, and feel, and say, and do.  People’s characters differ because their brains do, not because there is any difference in the vital force which animates them.

Rollestone.  You might as well say that sounds differ because their aerial vibrations differ, but those vibrations only differ because the force makes them differ which is acting upon them.  They don’t generate tunes, but convey them.  And the result, so far as our hearing is concerned, depends upon what are called the acoustic conditions under which the vibrations take place.  Just so the brain possesses no generating function of its own; it deals with and transmits the ideas and emotions projected upon it according to the organic conditions by which it may be affected at the time, whether those ideas and emotions are produced by external stimuli, or apparently, but only apparently, as I believe, owe their origin to genesis in the brain itself.  In the one case the brain is vibrating to the touch of an external force, in the other to one that is internal

and unseen, just as the air does when it transmits sound, whether you see the cause which produces it or not; and the mystery which remains to be fathomed, but which I do not admit to be unfathomable until somebody tries to fathom it, is the nature of those unseen forces.

Germsell.  How would you propose to try and fathom it?

Rollestone.  By experiment: I know of no other way.  The forces which generate emotions and ideas must possess a moral quality: the experiments must therefore be moral experiments.

Germsell.  How do you set to work to experimentalise morally?

Rollestone.  As the process must of necessity be a purely personal one, carried on, if I may use the expression, in one’s own moral organism, I have a certain delicacy in attempting to describe it.  In fact, Lady Fritterly, if you will allow me to say so, as the whole subject which has been under discussion this afternoon is the most profoundly solemn which can engage the attention of a human being, I shrink from entering upon it as fully as I would do under other circumstances.  I

people begin to want a new religion because it is the fashion to want one, I venture to predict that they will never find it.  If they want a new religion because they can’t come up to the moral standard of the one they have got, then I would advise them to look rather to that unseen force within them, which I have been attempting to describe to Mr Germsell, for the potency which may enable them to reach it.

Lady Fritterly.  Indeed, Mr Rollestone, we are all exceedingly in earnest.  I never felt so serious in my life.  Of course this London life must all seem very frivolous to you; but that we can’t help, you know.  We can’t all go away and make moral experiments like you.  What we feel is, that we ought all to endeavour as much as possible to introduce a more serious tone into society.  We want to get rid of the selfishness, and the littlenesses, and the petty ambitions and envyings, and the scandals that go on.  Don’t we, Louisa, dear?  And you can’t think how grateful I am to Lord Fondleton for having given me the pleasure of your acquaintance.  I hope I may often see you; I am sure you would do us all so much good.  You will

always find me at home on Sunday afternoons at this