deathbed of husbands to force them to leave their property to the Church, without reflecting that their own illegitimate spawn must beg for bread through the land.  Then came Satan himself, closely followed by the remaining nobility of his court, according to their rank and favour.  The devils bowed their heads in reverence, the pages placed the torches upon the table of their sovereign; while Satan, with a triumphant air,

mounted his high throne, and delivered the following speech:

“Princes, potentates, immortal spirits, welcome! thrice welcome!  Rapturous emotions glow through me when I cast my eyes along your squadrons of countless heroes.  We are yet what we were when, for the first time, we awoke in this pool from the stunning consequences of our fall, and for the first time assembled here.  Only one feeling still rules,—unanimity alone maintains her sway, and in this place only do all devote themselves to the same end.  He who has the happiness of commanding you may easily forget all other glory.  I own we have suffered, and still suffer, much, especially since the full exercise of our powers is restrained.  But in the feeling of the vengeance which we take on the sons of dust,—in the contemplation of their madness and crimes, by which they continually thwart the purposes of their being,—lies a recompense for our suffering.  Welcome, thrice welcome, all ye whom this sentiment inflames.

“Hear now the occasion of the festival which

I intend this day to celebrate with you.  Faustus, a daring mortal, who, like us, is at war with the Eternal, and who, through the strength of his spirit, may at some future period be deemed worthy to dwell along with us here, has discovered the art of multiplying, on an easy principle, a thousand and a thousandfold, those things denominated books,—those dangerous toys of men,—those vehicles of delusion, of error, of lies, and of horror,—those sources of pride and of painful doubt.  Until now they have been too costly, and only in the hands of the rich, whom they filled with fancies, and from whom they chased that humility which God had for their happiness infused into their hearts.  Triumph!  Soon will the poison of knowledge and inquiry be communicated to all classes.  New cravings, new wants, will arise; and I doubt whether my enormous kingdom will be able to contain all those who will destroy themselves by this delicious poison.  But this were only a slight victory: my eye pierces deeper into that distant period, which is to us no more than an hour is to man.  Soon will cavillers

and haters of the established Church spread about like the plague: pretended reformers of heaven and earth will arise, and their doctrines, from the facility of communication, will penetrate even into the hut of the beggar.  They will think to do good, and to purify the object of their hope from falsehood.  But, if men begin well, how long do they continue to act so!  Sin is not more inseparable from them than are ill consequences from their noblest pursuits.  The well-beloved people of God, whom he endeavoured to snatch from evil by the sacrifice of his only Son, will quarrel about tenets which no one understands, and will tear each other to pieces like wild-beasts.  Horrible atrocities, surpassing all the abominations perpetrated by men since they first sprung into existence, will desolate unhappy Europe.  My hopes appear to you too bold,—I read it in your doubting countenances; but listen to me whilst I explain.  Religious disagreements will give rise to these frenzies.  Then first will Fanaticism, the wild son of Hatred and Superstition, untie all the bonds of nature and humanity.  The father will murder the son, and

the son the father; kings will joyfully dip their fingers in the blood of their subjects, and place the sword in the hands of bigots, in order that they may slaughter their brothers by thousands, because their opinions are different.  Then will the water of the rivers turn into streams of blood, and the shrieks of the murdered will shake hell to its very centre.  We shall see wretches come down to us stained with crimes for which we have had hitherto neither names nor punishments.  Already do I see them attack the papal chair, which keeps together the fragile fabric through treachery and deceit, whilst it undermines itself through crime and luxury.  The great props of the religion which we dread give way; and, if the sinking structure be not sustained by means of new miracles, it will disappear from the face of the earth, and we shall once more shine in the temples as worshiped divinities.  Where will the spirit of man stop, when he has once undertaken to illumine that which he formerly honoured as a mystery?  He will dance on the grave of the tyrant, at whose frown he the day before trembled.  He

will break to pieces the altar on which he lately sacrificed, if he once endeavour to find the way to heaven by his own wisdom.  Will the Creator take home to himself a human being, who is not a million times more allied to us than to him?  Man abuses every thing, even the strength of his soul as well as of his body.  He abuses all that he sees, hears, feels, or thinks; and all with which he trifles, or with which he is seriously engaged.  Not content with deforming whatever he can seize with his hands, he soars upon the wings of imagination into worlds to him unknown, and arrays them in ideal deformity.  Even freedom, the noblest of his treasures, to obtain which he has shed rivers of blood, he readily sells for gold and pleasure, before he has tasted its sweets.  Incapable of good, he yet trembles at evil, he heaps horror upon horror to escape it, and then destroys his own handiwork.

“After the bloodshed of war, mankind, wearied with slaughter, will take a few moments’ repose, and then their venomous hatred will be displayed in petty and private bickerings.  Some,

indeed, will every now and then raise piles of wood and fagot, and burn those alive who disagree with them in religion; others will attempt the solution of inexplicable riddles; and those born for darkness will dare to struggle for light; their imaginations will become inflamed, and their desires insatiable.  Truth, simplicity, and religion will be trodden under foot, for the sake of writing a book.  Yes, yes, book-writing will become a universal employment, by which fools and men of genius will alike seek fame and emolument; caring very little whether they confuse the heads of their fellow-creatures, and hurl firebrands into the hearts of the innocent.  The heaven, the earth, the secret strength of nature, the dark causes of her phenomena, the power which rules the stars and bowls the comets through space,—every thing visible and invisible,—they will wish to handle, measure, and dive into.  They will invent, for all that is incomprehensible, words and numbers; and heap system upon system, till they have brought deeper darkness upon the earth, through which doubt, like the fen-fire, will only shine to

allure the wanderer into the morass.  Only then will they think to see clearly, and then I expect them.  After they have shovelled away religion, and are forced, out of the remains, to patch together a new and monstrous mixture of human wisdom and superstition, then I expect them.  And then open wide the gates of hell, that the race of man may enter.  The first step is already taken; the second is near.