Well! we, 'the vulgar herd,' as we creep along, will not forget you in our prayers, when you are seated up there above the clouds, whither you have been so long hastening.

But tell me, Hermotimus!--when do you expect to arrive there?
-- Ah! that I know not.

In twenty years, [147] perhaps, I shall be really on the summit .-- A great while! you think.

But then, again, the prize I contend for is a great one.
-- Perhaps! But as to those twenty years--that you will live so long.
Has the master assured you of that?
Is he a prophet as well as a philosopher?
For I suppose you would not endure all this, upon a mere chance--toiling day and night, though it might happen that just ere the last step, Destiny seized you by the foot and plucked you thence, with your hope still unfulfilled.
-- Hence, with these ill-omened words, Lucian! Were I to survive but for a day, I should be happy, having once attained wisdom.
-- How ?--Satisfied with a single day, after all those labours?
-- Yes! one blessed moment were enough! -- But again, as you have never been, how know you that happiness is to be had up there, at all--the happiness that is to make all this worth while?
-- I believe what the master tells me.

Of a certainty he knows, being now far above all others.
-- And what was it he told you about it?
Is it riches, or glory, or some indescribable pleasure?
-- Hush! my friend! All those are nothing in comparison of the life there.
-- What, then, shall those who come to the [148] end of this discipline--what excellent thing shall they receive, if not these?
-- Wisdom, the absolute goodness and the absolute beauty, with the sure and certain knowledge of all things--how they are.