“Was there magic in his touch? It really seemed so, for it increased my visual capacity fifty-fold, and on again turning to the earth beneath me, I found my interest almost painfully excited by a real drama there and then enacting. It was clearly apparent that the great majority of the people were partially, if not wholly blind; and I observed that one group, near the centre of the plain below the mountain, appeared to be under much greater excitement than most of the others, and their turbulence appeared to result from the desire of each individual to reach a certain golden ball and staff which lay on a cushion of crimson velvet within the splendid open-sided monument on the mountain. In the midst of this lesser crowd, energetically striving to reach the ascending path, was one man who seemed to be endowed with far more strength and resolution--not of body, but of purpose--than those immediately around him. Bravely he urged his way toward the mountain’s top, and, after almost incredible efforts, succeeded. Exultingly he approached the temple, by his side were hundreds more; he outran them, entered, reached forth to seize the ball and sceptre--it seemed that the courageous man must certainly succeed--his fingers touched the prize, a smile of triumph illumined his countenance, and then suddenly went out in the blight of death, for he fell to the earth from a deadly blow, dealt by one treacherous hand from behind, while others seized and hurled him down the steep abyss upon which the temple abutted, and he was first dashed to pieces and then trampled out of existence by the iron heels of advancing thousands--men who saw but pitied not, rather rejoicing that one rival less was in existence. “‘Is it possible,’ cried I, internally, ‘that such hell-broth of vindictiveness boils in human veins?’ “‘Alas, thou seest!’ replied Ettelavar, by my side. ‘Learn a lesson,’ said he, ‘from what you have seen. Fame is a folly, not worth the having when obtained. ‘Felicitas’ is ever ahead, never reached, therefore not to be looked for. Friendship is an empty name, or convenient cloak which men put on to enable them to rob with greater facility. No man is content to see another rise, except when such rising will assist his own elevation; and the man behind will stab the man in front, if he stands in his way. Human nature is infantile, childish, weak, passionate and desperately depraved, and as a rule, they are the greater villains who assume the most sanctity; they the most selfish who prate loudest of charity, faith and love. I begin my tutelage by warning, therefore arming you, against the world and those who constitute it. If you wish to truly rise, you must first learn to put the world and what it contains at its proper value. Remember, I who speak am Ettelavar. Awake!’