"But," I said, "what do you mean by intelligible?"
"I think," he replied, "that I mean two things, both of which must be present. First, that there shall be a necessary connection among the elements presented; and secondly, that the elements themselves should be of such a kind as to be, as it were, transparent to that which apprehends them, so that it asks no questions as to what they are or whence they come, but accepts them naturally and as a matter of course, with the same inevitability as it accepts its own being."
"And these conditions, you think, are fulfilled by the objects of thought as you defined them?
"I think so."
"I am not so sure of that," I said, "it would require a long discussion. But, anyhow, you also seemed to admit, when Ellis pressed you, that thought of that kind could hardly be identified absolutely with Good."
"I admit," he replied, "that there are difficulties in that view."
"But at the same time the Good, whatever it be, ought to be intelligible in the sense you have explained?"
"I should say so."
"And so should I. But now, the question is, can we not conceive of any other kind of object, which might have, on the one hand, the intelligibility you ascribe to pure ideas, and on the other, that immediate something, 'luscious and aplomb,' to borrow Ellis's quotation, which he desiderated as a constituent of the Good?"
"I don't know," he said, "perhaps we might. What is it you have in your mind?"