“By a very simple means. I will make you lead the same life as I do myself,—open-air life,—and in a few months you will find these nightmares of the soul completely disappear. No prisoner can be happy; and as you are a prisoner in this dungeon of conventionality, and are swathed in the mummy cloths of civilization, you cannot hope to be happy unless you go out into the wilderness.” “The life you describe is purely an animal one. What about the intellect?” “Intellect! pshaw! I know more about Nature than half your scientific idiots with their books.” “What an inconsistent being you are, Caliphronas!” said Maurice in an amused tone. “You say you love art, admire pictures, adore statues; yet, if every man followed the life you eulogize, such things would not be in existence.” “I tell you, I don’t want all the world to follow my example. I would be very sorry to lose all these delights of the senses, so I am glad there are men sufficiently self-denying to slave at such things for my delight; but as regards myself, I desire to live as a natural man—an animal, as you say. It is ignoble—yes; but it is pleasant.” This speech somewhat opened the eyes of Maurice to the kind of soul which was enshrined in the splendid body of this man; and he saw plainly that the sensual part of Caliphronas had completely conquered the spiritual. But with what result?—that this ignoble being was happy. What an ironical comment of Fate on the strivings of great beings to subordinate the senses to the soul. The soul agitated by a thousand fears, the brain striving ever after the impossible—what do these give their possessor, but a feeling of unrest, of unsatisfied hunger; whereas the body, untortured by an inquiring spirit, brought contentment, happiness—ignoble though they were—to the animal man. By this time, Caliphronas, having made up his mind to sit no more that day, was slowly dressing himself, singing a Greek song in his usual gay manner. “Three girls crossed my path in the twilight; One did I love, but the others were nothing to me: She frowned at my greeting, but her friends smiled sweetly, Yet was she the loveliest of them all, And I loved her frown more than their smiles inviting.” “How happy you are, Caliphronas!” “Thoroughly. I have not a care in the world. Come with me to the Island of Fantasy, and you also will be happy.” “The Island of Fantasy!” “Yes; that is what Justinian calls it.” “Who is Justinian? anything to do with the Pandects?” “Pandects?” reiterated Caliphronas, puzzled by the word. “Yes. Is he a ruler—a law-giver?” “Oh yes; he is the king of the Island of Fantasy.” “Which, I presume, exists only in your brain,” said Roylands jestingly.