ture. They resemble
the devotees of certain idols, who pierce themselves with cruel hooks
and swing aloft in honor of their god. It may be pleasure, but not one
in a thousand will ever achieve that degree of soul exaltation and
physical abnegation to think it so."

"And yet not one in a thousand, not one in a hundred thousand lives in
Egyplosis," said the goddess.

"The men who achieve anything," I continued, "good and great in the world,
the men who build empires, discover ideas, who both rule and populate
nations, are all rewarded by a hopeful love. It is only a hopeless love
that sets up its mirage of false and never-to-be-obtained joys. Hence, I
ask you the question, What of Egyplosis?"

The goddess smiled at my controversial attitude, "It is the old
question," she replied, "of conventionalism _versus_ art, of economic
institutions _versus_ nature and life. Just as we endeavor to rescue
spontaneous invention and originality from the disease of the
tasteless and laborious productions of a mechanical civilization, so
we labor to create an earthly home for the soul in a world where
superficial necessities will stifle it out of existence. There was a
time in the history of Atvatabar when people talked of art and love,
both of which did not exist. The octopus of commercial, mechanical and
economical life had strangled the soul and all its attributes. Men
fought for treaties of commerce, treaties of marriage, deeds of
property, and all the while acted in defiance of their obligations.
They cheated each other, lied to each other, deserted each other
incessantly. Love had taken wings and fled. Art had lost its language
and its cunning. Life was no longer illuminated with splendid ideals.
It was no longer arrayed in the fair and fascinating garments that
only the soul can weave. History was no longer glorified by paintings
and sculptured reliefs. Religion was no longer symbolized in the
solemn magnificence of architecture, or sculptured shrines of gods.
Articles of daily use were made solely to make a profit, and the
widespread use of machinery was destroying the art, the soul, the pure
life of the people. A paternal government, seeing the tyranny of
commercialism and the possible extinction of the soul itself, has
wisely, in the spirit of patriarchal hospitality, established the art
institution of Gnaphisthasia and the religious institution of
Egyplosis, for soul development in harmony with the high destiny of
mankind.