But this must be preceded by a horrible revolution upon the face of the earth.  Soon will the inhabitants of the old world emigrate, for the purpose of discovering new, and to them unknown, regions of the globe.  They will there attack and slaughter millions, to possess themselves of that gold which the innocents value not.  They will fill this new world with all their crimes, and then return with materials for corrupting even the old one.  Thus will nations become our prey, whom till now innocence and ignorance have protected from us.  And thus shall we, by the assistance of the favourites of heaven, triumph.

“This, then, O potentates! is what I wished

to communicate to you; and now rejoice with me over this mighty day, and enjoy in anticipation the victory which I, who know men, promise you.  Long live Faustus!”

With horrible uproar, which made the axis of the earth tremble, and the bones of the dead rattle in their coffins, the devils shouted, “Long live Faustus!”  “Long live the corrupter of the sons of dust!”  Hereupon the chief nobility of the kingdom were permitted to kiss the hand of his Satanic majesty.

The triumphant devils now sat down to table, and fell upon the prepared meal.  The goblets clattered, the souls were craunched between their iron teeth; and they drank the health of Satan, of Faustus, of the clergy, of the tyrants of the earth, and of future and living authors, amidst the clang of hellish artillery.  In order to render the banquet more magnificent, the masters of the revels went to the pools, drew out the burning souls, and chased them over the tables, to illumine the gloomy scene; while they ran behind the wretches with poisoned whips, forcing them to

caper; and sparks ascended to the blackened roofs, crackling like wheat-sheaves ignited by lightning in an autumn storm.  That the devils might have music to their meat, others hastened to the pools, and poured molten metal amid the flames, so that the damned howled and cursed in grisly despair.  If priests now could, instead of their cold and fruitless sermons about penitence, give a specimen upon earth of these horrid cries, sinners would quickly turn a deaf ear to the voluptuous warblings of castrati, and join in some pious psalm: but, alas, hell is distant, and pleasure close at hand.  After the banquet a great stage was erected, and various plays were performed, founded on the heroic deeds of Satan; for example, the Fall of Man, the Betrayal of Judas Iscariot, &c.

The performance was then suddenly changed to an allegorical ballet.  The scene was a wild and dreary spot.  In a dark cavern sat Metaphysics, in the shape of an Egyptian mummy, whose eyes were fixed upon five glittering words, which flitted continually backwards and forwards, and at each change had a different import.  The

mummy ceased not to follow them with its stony eyes; while in a corner stood a little roguish devil, who incessantly blew bubbles of air into its face.  Pride, the amanuensis of Metaphysics, gathered the bubbles up as they fell, pressed the air out, and kneaded them into hypotheses.  The mummy was clothed in an Egyptian waistcoat, embroidered with mystic characters.  Over this it wore a Grecian mantle, which ought to have concealed the characters, but was much too short and too narrow for that purpose.  Its legs, thighs, and body, were cased in long loose drawers, which did not, however, entirely conceal its nakedness.  A huge doctorial hat covered its bald head, which was marked with the scratches worn by its long nails in provoking deep reflection.  Its shoes were made after the European fashion, and sprinkled with the finest dust of the schools and universities.  After it had gazed a considerable time on the moving words, without being able to understand them, its attendant, Pride, gave the wink to Delusion, who was walking near.  He seized a wooden trumpet, and sounded a dance.  No

sooner did the mummy hear the noise than it took Pride by the hand, and danced about with antic gambols; but its thin withered legs could not bear this long, and it soon sunk breathless into its former posture.

Then came forward Morality, a fine female form, hooded in a veil, which, chameleon-like, sported all colours.  She held Virtue and Vice by the hands, and danced a trio with them.  For music, a naked savage played upon an oaten pipe, a European philosopher scraped the fiddle, while an Asiatic beat the drum; and although these contradictory tones would have distracted an harmonious ear, yet the dancers did not once lose the step,—so well had they learnt their parts.  When the maiden gave Vice her hand, she coquetted and languished significantly before him; but when she gave it to Virtue, she moved along with the modest gait of a matron.  After the dance, she reposed upon a thin, transparent, and beautifully-painted cloud, which her admirers had woven out of various shreds and remnants.

Next appeared nude Poetry: she danced with

Sensuality a characteristic dance, to which Imagination played the flute d’amour.

History then advanced upon the stage.  Before her went Fame, with a long brazen trumpet.  She herself was hung round with stories of murders, poisonings, perjuries, conspiracies, and other horrors.  Behind her panted, beneath a prodigious load of chronicles, diplomas, and documents, a strong nervous man, clothed in the German fashion.  She danced with Slavery, to the rustling of the stories with which she was hung.  Falsehood at length took the trumpet from the mouth of Fame, and tuned it to the dance; and Flattery led the figures.

Then appeared Medicine and Quackery, and were received with loud laughter: they danced a minuet, to which Death clinked the music with a purse of gold.

After them were seen Astrology, Cabala, Theosophy, and Mysticism.  They grasped each other by the hands, and whirled around in intricate figures; while Superstition, Delusion, and Fraud stood near, and blew the bagpipes.

These were followed by Jurisprudence, a sleek, rosy-faced dame, fed with fees, and hung about with commentaries—she coughed through a tedious solo; and Chicanery played the bass-viol.

Last of all entered Policy, in a triumphant car drawn by two mares, Weakness and Deceit.  On her right sat Theology, holding in one hand a sharp-pointed dagger, and in the other a blazing torch.  Policy herself wore a golden crown upon her head, and supported a sceptre over her right shoulder.  She descended from the car, and danced with Theology a pas-de-deux, to which Cunning, Ambition, and Tyranny played on soft tinkling instruments.  After she had finished the pas-de-deux, she made all the other figures a sign to begin a general dance.  They immediately obeyed, and sprang about in wild confusion.  All the before-mentioned musicians played on their instruments, and raised a din, only surpassed in loudness by the table-music of Satan.  Yet Contention soon insinuated herself among the unsuspicious dancers; and, animated by Zeal and Fury, they hastily snatched up weapons.  When Theology

perceived that all embraced delightful Poetry, and that Morality wished to tear off her own veil, in order to cover her with it, she gave the latter a thrust with a poniard from behind, and singed the nude and tender Poetry with her flaming torch.  Both raised a dreadful shriek: Policy commanded silence, and Quackery hastened to bind