So that even
supposing a man to believe that his own Good consists in furthering
the Good of others, yet he will not be able to put his belief into
practice, but at most will be able to help some one man, with the
likelihood that in so doing he is thwarting and injuring many others.
Though, therefore, he may not wish to be an egoist, yet he cannot work
for a common Good; and that simply because there is no common Good to
work for."

At this point Parry, who had been sitting silent during the
discussion, probably because of its somewhat abstract character,
suddenly broke in upon it as follows. He had a great fund of optimism
and what is sometimes called common sense, which to me was rather
pleasant and refreshing, though some of the others, and especially
Leslie and Ellis, were apt, I think, to find it irritating. His
present speech was characteristic of his manner.

"Ah!" he began, "there you touch upon the point which has vitiated
your argument throughout. You seem to assume that because every man
has his own Good, and there is no Good we can affirm to be common
to all, therefore these individual Goods are incompatible one with
another, so that a man who is intent on his own Good is necessarily
hindering, or, at least, not helping, other people who are intent on
theirs. But I believe, and my view is borne out by all experience,
that exactly the opposite is the case. Every man, in pursuing his own
advantage, is also enabling the rest to pursue theirs. The world, if
you like to put it so, is a world of egoists; but a world constructed
with such exquisite art, that the egoism of one is not only compatible
with, but indispensable to that of another. On this principle all
society rests. The producer, seeking his own profit, is bound to
satisfy the consumer; the capitalist cannot exist without supporting
the labourer; the borrower and lender are knit by the closest ties of
mutual advantage; and so with all the ranks and divisions of mankind,
social, political, economic, or what you will. Balanced, one against
the other, in delicate counterpoise, in subtlest interaction of part
with part, they sweep on in one majestic system, an equilibrium for
ever disturbed, yet ever recovering itself anew, created, it is true,
and maintained by countless individual impulses, yet summing up and
reflecting all of these in a single, perfect, all-harmonious whole.
And when we consider----"

But here he was interrupted by a kind of groan f