“And what does it amount to?” said Satan, with his evil chuckle.  “Nothing at all.  You gain nothing; you always come out where you went in.  For a million years the race has gone on monotonously propagating itself and monotonously reperforming this dull nonsense—­to what end?  No wisdom can guess!  Who gets a profit out of it?  Nobody but a parcel of usurping little monarchs and nobilities who despise you; would feel defiled if you touched them; would shut the door in your face if you proposed to call; whom you slave for, fight for, die for, and are not ashamed of it, but proud; whose existence is a perpetual insult to you and you are afraid to resent it; who are mendicants supported by your alms, yet assume toward you the airs of benefactor toward beggar; who address you in the language of master to slave, and are answered in the language of slave to master; who are worshiped by you with your mouth, while in your heart—­if you have one—­you despise yourselves for it.  The first man was a hypocrite and a coward, qualities which have not yet failed in his line; it is the foundation upon which all civilizations have been built.  Drink to their perpetuation!  Drink to their augmentation!  Drink to—­” Then he saw by our faces how much we were hurt, and he cut his sentence short and stopped chuckling, and his manner changed.  He said, gently:  “No, we will drink one another’s health, and let civilization go.  The wine which has flown to our hands out of space by desire is earthly, and good enough for that other toast; but throw away the glasses; we will drink this one in wine which has not visited this world before.”

We obeyed, and reached up and received the new cups as they descended.  They were shapely and beautiful goblets, but they were not made of any material that we were acquainted with.  They seemed to be in motion, they seemed to be alive; and certainly the colors in them were in motion.  They were very brilliant and sparkling, and of every tint, and they were never still, but flowed to and fro in rich tides which met and broke and flashed out dainty explosions of enchanting color.  I think it was most like opals washing about in waves and flashing out their splendid fires.  But there is nothing to compare the wine with.  We drank it, and felt a strange and witching ecstasy as of heaven go stealing through us, and Seppi’s eyes filled and he said worshipingly: 

“We shall be there some day, and then—­”

He glanced furtively at Satan, and I think he hoped Satan would say, “Yes, you will be there some day,” but Satan seemed to be thinking about something else, and said nothing.  This made me feel ghastly, for I knew he had heard; nothing, spoken or unspoken, ever escaped him.  Poor Seppi looked distressed, and did not finish his remark.  The goblets rose and clove their way into the sky, a triplet of radiant sundogs, and disappeared.  Why didn’t they stay?  It seemed a bad sign, and depressed me.  Should I ever see mine again?  Would Seppi ever see his?