The answer will at once be, '_That is exactly, my dear Professor, what I do turn to.

And, listen_,' he might say--the following is again a passage from his own writings--'_to the way in which I figure the highest good to myself.

It is a huge building, with its outer walls all blind and windowless; a huge court within, surrounded by a colonnade of white marble; in the midst a musical fountain with a jet of quick-silver in the Arabian fashion; leaves of orange-trees and pomegranates placed alternately; overhead the bluest of skies and the mellowest of suns; great long-nosed greyhounds should be sleeping here and there; from time to time barefoot negresses with golden ankle-rings, fair women servants white and slender, and clad in rich strange garments, should pass between the hollow arches, basket on arm, or urn poised on head._[19] _Three things give me pleasure, gold, marble, and purple--brilliance, mass, and colour.

These are the stuffs out of which my dreams are made; and all my ideal palaces are constructed of these materials._'[20] What answer could Professor Huxley make to this that would not seem to the other at once barbarous and nonsensical?
The best answer he could make would be simply, '_I do not agree with you_.' And to this again the answer would at once be, '_That is because you are still hampered by prejudices, whose only possible foundations we have both removed; and because I am a man of culture, and you are not._' Let us also consider again that other utterance of Professor Huxley's, with which I began this chapter.

According to the positive view of morals, he says, those special sets of happiness that a moral system selects for us, have no more to do with any theory as to the reason of their selection, than a man's sight has to do with his theory of vision, or than the hot taste of ginger has to do with a knowledge of its analysis.