invention, which will become very famous, and acquire the name of
Cholera Morbus. This little ball will surprise men in the midst of their
sins, and send them down to us in thousands. I have chosen this country
to let my disease loose in, because the climate here is most favourable
to its first prosperity. I have placed it on the ground, and you see
that, having felt the open air, it is beginning to turn into a blue
vapour. The whole ball has now disappeared, and the vapour crawls slowly
along before the wind. Let us follow our assassin, and see its first
success: it is going straight towards that village. There is a strong
healthy man;--see! he is the first victim; the vapour has coiled itself
round him like a serpent.
RECAB.
He has fallen down.
BELPHEGOR.
And you may perceive what pain he suffers.
RECAB.
Two more have fallen.
BELPHEGOR.
And the blue cloud continues to spread. My medicine was well mixed; that
vapour needs no farther orders; we may therefore continue our flight.
This disease will give rise to innumerable conjectures among men, and
many ingenious opinions will be formed concerning its origin. I think
human science cannot discover that it was let out of my bag.
RECAB.
Have you bestowed many such presents upon the world?
BELPHEGOR.
Yes; long ago, I brought here a vigorous disease, which obtained the
name of "the plague." After having put millions to death, it is still as
lively as at first. But diseases are not the only blessings distributed
from this bag; sometimes it lets loose a delusion. Not long after the
creation of this world I mixed a delusion with uncommon skill, and
brought it from below in my bag. It is called "religious zeal," and has
been more fatal than the plague. As soon as I perceived its success, I
combined its most important ingredients with a few more drugs, and so
formed another excellent delusion, called "party spirit." There is
hardly a country on the earth which has not been visited with both. But
come, if your wings have had rest enough we will mount again.
RECAB.
I am ready.
BELPHEGOR.
We will rise only to a moderate height, that you may see the earth and
its inhabitants. You will be pleased with the sight, now that you are no
longer afraid of the world's rolling against you.
RECAB.
How beautiful it is! I perceive that men have the same figure here as
when they come down to us, only they now look more healthy and cheerful.
But pray what quarter of the globe are we now flying over? for I have
learned from the dead that the earth is divided into four parts.
BELPHEGOR.
This is Asia below us.
RECAB.
Then there are two great cities here, which I have a curiosity to see,
Nineveh and Babylon; for I heard Sardanapalus and Nebuchadnezzar
conversing about them, and each contending for the superior splendour of
his own city.
BELPHEGOR.
You are not much conversant with Eastern history. You are come up some
thousands of years too late to see the places you mention; not a trace
of them remains. But do you see that man sitting in the desert and
drawing, with his servants asleep, and his camels resting by him. That
is an English traveller; and he is now taking a sketch of Babylon.
RECAB.
But how can he draw a town that is not there? He must be a great artist.
I can see nothing but desert where he is looking.
BELPHEGOR.
He sits at least 200 miles from the place where that city really stood;
but having found a few stones, he is drawing them as Babylon, and is
determined that no man shall dissuade him from having really seen that
famous city. When he returns home, he will make a great book containing
this picture, and many others equally authentic; and his countrymen will
delight themselves with looking at the true Babylon. He might as well
confirm the validity of his work by a portrait of Belshazzar. However,
those stones will represent Babylon as well as if they were true
fragments of the great wall. Look there! far away where I point; there
is a famous city.
RECAB.
But can I see it? or is it in the same condition as Babylon?
BELPHEGOR.
It is really to be seen; that is Constantinople.
RECAB.
What! the city of the murderer, Constantine, whom we have below?
BELPHEGOR.
Yes; the emperor attended by so many bishops, who are always wondering
why they are not in heaven.
RECAB.
Is this the sea that quivers in the sun below us? I have heard that this
world is divided into sea and land.
BELPHEGOR.
Yes; to the left you may see a river flowing into it with several
mouths: there is Egypt, the country of the Pharaohs and Ptolemies, with
some of whom, perhaps, you may be acquainted. On the sea you may
perceive several ships full of men. Most of those now under us are from
England. The people of that country are perpetually wandering round the
globe. You may see two Englishmen in the middle of Africa--those two
white men surrounded by blacks. They are English travellers, who, having
every comfort at home, choose to roam through the deserts of Africa, in
the greatest misery.
RECAB.
I have heard much below of the wretchedness of human life; but, as if
there were a want of suffering, men seem to follow pain with the
greatest industry, and then think themselves cruelly treated because
they are allowed to find it; they choose to wander through the deserts
and then complain that they are not comfortable and at home.
BELPHEGOR.
A great part of mankind take the same pains to be miserable that these
travellers do.
RECAB.
But are they also looking for Babylon in the sand?
BELPHEGOR.
No; though a desert of Africa would be as good a Babylon as a desert of
Asia. These travellers have a different purpose. There is an African
river of which the English know the source, but they have not discovered
where it runs into the sea; and I should tell you, that the whole people
of England are in great trouble when they know the beginning of a river,
and not the end. These two resolute men, therefore, are exposing
themselves to the greatest dangers and hardships, that both ends of the
stream may be known; and if they can pursue it to the place where it
runs into the sea, and actually detect it in the fact, they will return
to tell their countrymen, who will be overjoyed by the intelligence. But
now we must turn our course to the right, for I have deviated from the
true direction to give you a survey of the earth. Europe is now beneath
us.
RECAB.
I see a great crowd of men running about, and a thick smoke rising from
them.
BELPHEGOR.
That is a battle, in which crowds of men meet together to kill others
and be killed themselves. Probably many thousands will go down to us
from this encounter.
RECAB.
And how can they be compelled to destroy each other so plentifully?
BELPHEGOR.
There is no compulsion: all these men might have remained at home, and
preserved their lives.
RECAB.
Why have we taken this long flight to destroy the happiness of mankind?
they seem so determined to be miserable, that I think our arts are not
wanted.
BELPHEGOR.
When you know men better, you will find occasions to exercise your
ingenuity upon them. There are many, indeed, who eagerly ruin
themselves without our assistance; others wait for a hint from us; but
there are some so obdurate, that all our skill is required to circumvent
them. But we have reached England, and the great city now beneath us is
London. We will soar round a little that you may have a view of it. The
streets are full of our victims.
RECAB.
For what purpose do those crowds of people continually hasten backwards
and forwards?
BELPHEGOR.
Each of them has a separate design in view; many are transacting their
own business and ours at the same time. Money is the chief pursuit of
all those in the part of the town now under us.
RECAB.
I have heard of money in my conversations with the dead; pray show it to
me, for I know not what it is.
BELPHEGOR.
In many places you may see one man giving to another a small shining
thing; that is money.
RECAB.
Can that be the famous thing that I have heard of? I have been told that
money is one of the most powerful beings in the universe, and as artful
as Satan himself; that its eloquence is irresistible; that it is always
in confederacy with us, and the most powerful ally we have; that it
commits innumerable crimes, and subverts both the integrity of men and
the modesty of women.
BELPHEGOR.
You have heard no more praises than it deserves. That shining metal can
do all that you say, and a great deal more; you will soon be acquainted
with its artifices. But we will now fly to another part of the town, and
descend to find some person upon whom you may practise your first lesson
in temptation.
RECAB.
Surely those who see us will know that we are evil spirits, and will
guard themselves against our designs. How shall we persuade them that we
are not what we appear?
BELPHEGOR.
What! do you suppose that we are to show ourselves, black and sooty as
we are, to the mortal whom we would tempt, and assure him, that although
appearances are against us, we are not real devils, but men like
himself; and that, although we may seemingly have horns and wings, we
are, in truth, shaped like other mortals? This, I think, would not be
very plausible; but you do not know that no human being can either see
us or hear us speak.
RECAB.
How, then, can we have any communication with men?
BELPHEGOR.
That I will soon show you. Let us alight in this street; and now, in
this house, there is a lady who will serve to teach you the rudiments of
temptation.
RECAB.
How do you know her present circumstances? They may be changed since
your last visit to the earth.
BELPHEGOR.
It is not from my last visit that I know her. By experience we acquire
the means of discerning the present circumstances and undertakings of
any mortal whom we approach. I will teach you the art when you are
qualified for it. By constant exercise and hardship since the fall, we
have discovered in ourselves many faculties that we were ignorant of
before.
RECAB.
I do not find that by my labours in the mines I have discovered any new
faculties in myself.
BELPHEGOR.
I suppose not. This is the house, and we may pass through the wall into
it; for the walls here are not so intractable as that which surrounds
our dominions below. See! there sits the lady, quite idle, and with a
pensive countenance. Many mortals when they are alone are always in bad
society; solitude has probably prepared this lady to receive us. But a
spirit has no influence over the outside of a human being; all our
artifices are practised within; therefore walk into this woman, and try
what you can do.
RECAB.
How is it possible that a human being should contain a devil? We are
considerably larger than men, even without our horns and wings.
BELPHEGOR.
I have not yet told you, that the spirits sent to tempt mankind are
endued with the power of varying their size; you have received this
faculty without knowing it. Do as you see me do.
RECAB.
I see you beginning to contract yourself, and shrink all over. You are a
mere dwarf already, and still continuing to decrease; you have now
dwindled to the size of an insect, yet I can distinguish the same shape
and face as before. I must tell you that your diminutive person looks
very ridiculous.
BELPHEGOR.
Now follow my example, and contract yourself as I have done.
RECAB.
It is useless to bid me be little, unless you teach me how to effect
this abridgement.
BELPHEGOR.
It is done by a particular effort of contraction. Only endeavour to be
small, and you will find yourself becoming less.
RECAB.
I will try, then.
BELPHEGOR.
Where are you going? You have shot up to the height of a hundred feet
through the roof of the house. You gave yourself a twist just contrary
to what was required. I do not think, indeed, that this woman will
contain you, now that you are let out to that size. But how long do you
mean to stand projecting through the roof?
RECAB.
I wish you would bring me down again, for I do not like my situation at
all.
BELPHEGOR.
Make another effort. Well done; you have descended to your ordinary
stature at once. Try again: that is right--you are a foot shorter. You
have acquired the true art of contraction. Now you are dwindling very
prosperously, and at last are as diminutive and ridiculous as myself.
After a little practice, you will draw yourself in and shoot yourself
out at pleasure. But we have not yet completed our reduction; contract
yourself till I desire you to stop. There; you are now small enough.
RECAB.
I am glad of it, for I was in some fear lest I should vanish altogether.
BELPHEGOR.
I have now reduced myself to an equality with you, and we will walk into
the lady together.
RECAB.
How strangely her appearance is altered! She is as large as I was when I
started up through the roof, and is covered with great holes.
BELPHEGOR.
The alteration is only in your sight; by the diminution of your organs
objects appear to you greatly magnified. The holes that you talk of are
only the pores in the lady's skin, and the change of our bulk has
qualified us to creep through them; so that you are no longer startled
by being desired to walk into the lady. Though she appeared quite solid
before we changed our size, we shall find her porous all through. We
must fly up, enter at the forehead, and penetrate to the brain: follow
me. Creep in at that pore, and now fold your wings, and walk close
behind me: the road is very intricate.
RECAB.
Intricate, indeed! without you I should certainly have lost myself, and
wandered about this woman's head for ever. You seem to know every turn.
BELPHEGOR.
When you have travelled through as many human brains as I have, you will
walk with equal certainty.
RECAB.
Stop, Belphegor!
BELPHEGOR.
What is the matter?
RECAB.
Something holds me by the horns, and I cannot move.
BELPHEGOR.
You have entangled your horns in a nerve; do not struggle, and I will
release you. There, now, take care to conduct your horns better.
RECAB.
What noise is it that I hear?
BELPHEGOR.
The beating of the heart, by which human life is supported. Day after
day, and year after year that organ acts with the same fidelity. We have
now reached the place where our temptations are performed. You see this
mirror; it reflects every thought that passes through the woman's mind,
whatever she imagines or considers is instantly represented in it. In
the brain of every human being there is a similar mirror. This picture
of the mind can never be discovered by men of science, though they are
very ingenious in their researches, since it is far too small to be
found by their best glasses. It is composed of an infinite multitude of
nerves, interwoven together so as to make a polished surface. If you
look behind this mirror, you will see branches of nerves proceeding from
the back, the great number of delicate filaments over the mirror being
united behind in a few branches.
Now, I must acquaint you with the history of this lady. She had
contracted a violent passion for a young man, who had an equal love for
her, but on account of his poverty they could not be married. In
despair, therefore, she has been induced to accept of another man, and
they are soon to be united.
She is now, therefore, endeavouring not to love her former favourite,
and instead of him to dote on the person who is to be her husband. This
morning she has positively forbidden herself to think once of the
dangerous man during the day. We shall see how she will succeed in
keeping him out of the mirror. Now, let us watch it.
RECAB.
I see the figure of a man in it now; has her resolution failed already?
BELPHEGOR.
No; that is the future husband: she is considering his figure, manner,
and conversation; endeavouring to reconcile herself to him, and
interpreting him as favourably as she can. She does not succeed very
well in her praises; that is a most ill-shaped figure, and in reality he
is not ugly. She is very unjust in laying such a nose to his charge.
Then she equally misrepresents his manner: see how awkwardly that shadow
conducts his limbs. These are all mere aspersions.
RECAB.
These thoughts proceed without any suggestion from us: if the duty of a
tempter is only to look into this mirror, I can perform it as skilfully
as you.
BELPHEGOR.
Something more is required, which I will now explain to you. This
feather which I pull from my wing is the instrument of temptation. The
surface of the mirror is endued with a most acute sensibility, so that a
dexterous touch of this feather will cause such an emotion over it, that
all the delightful and forbidden recollections of the mind are not to be
resisted. There are some feathers in the wing of a devil which have a
remarkable softness and allurement, exactly suited to the perceptions of
the mirror: I can teach you to select the tempting quills. By this
feather I can revive guilty thoughts, which had for years been
suppressed, and when persons have established an absolute command over
themselves, I subvert their authority at a single touch. Now see how I
will alter the scene in this mirror; observe how the surface trembles as
I draw the feather gently across it.
RECAB.
The figure of the intended husband has vanished at the first touch.
BELPHEGOR.
I try a second touch;--what a sigh there was! Now what do you see?
RECAB.
The mirror is occupied by another man much handsomer than the first.
BELPHEGOR.
That is the real lover, who has been so positively interdicted; but he
owes a great part of his beauty to the lady, and is far handsomer in
this mirror than elsewhere. Let us see what he will do, and what
treatment he will receive. He stands with his eyes fixed in despair, and
makes no progress; I must assist him. For you are to understand by his
melancholy looks, that the lady is thinking of his sorrow at her
marriage, and supposing it impossible that his wishes should be
gratified. There is a very delicate touch of the feather, and in
consequence you see that a shady walk has sprung up in the mirror. A
shady walk has been instrumental in many an intrigue. If you watch you
will see that these trees have a secret to keep.
RECAB.
The figure of the lady herself has appeared in the walk.
BELPHEGOR.
And her admirer advances from the farther end to meet her. They are
walking together very peaceably. Let us see how long this indiscretion
will continue. Not long, with a violent effort the whole scene has
vanished.
RECAB.
What is to come next?
BELPHEGOR.
The lady herself appears with a child in her arms; she is now
endeavouring to banish all unlawful thoughts by thinking of the children
that she is to have. I will take that child from her by one touch of my
feather.
RECAB.
No; the child remains in defiance of your feather.
BELPHEGOR.
I know what has weakened my feather; I will soon reinforce it. You may
remark that one of the nerves proceeding from the back of the mirror
trembles violently; we call that the nerve of conscience; and whilst its
vibration continues no vicious picture can appear in the mirror, for the
filaments from that nerve are spread over all the surface and agitate
the whole together. Sometimes that nerve is troublesome, but I think in
this case I can easily pacify it. I have only to pull another feather
from my wing, and press it lightly against the trembling nerve, which
you see instantly quiets it, and now that the conscience no longer
interferes, I again touch the child with my tempting feather;
immediately it fades away, and in its place comes a letter, which the
lady is reading with great eagerness. I think we have made some advances
towards the completing of this affair.
RECAB.
Perhaps so: but our plot has proceeded so abruptly, that I know not what
we are doing. I do not understand why this letter is so preferable to
the child.
BELPHEGOR.
Then I must interpret. This lady now imagines herself the wife of the
man whom she has been condemned to marry, and consenting to receive
letters from her first favourite. That is the dream which my feather has
suggested. Having therefore given her these excellent thoughts to be
married with, we will leave her. Now that the sensibility of her mirror
is provoked, she will never be able to keep these pictures out of it.
After she has been married we will return into her, and try to
accomplish in reality what we have succeeded in making her imagine. The
best plan of conducting such a scheme is that two spirits should act in
concert, and one of them instigate the man, while the other prompts the
female. You therefore shall be my colleague: before this lady is ready
for us you will have acquired some dexterity. We will now find our way
out again: follow me, and guide your horns carefully through the nerves.
Being now in the open air we must resume our natural size, for we should
fly very slowly with these diminutive wings. Let me see you enlarge
yourself: well done; you have succeeded at the first trial. We will now
go in search of some person upon whom you may try your feather. For your
first attempt I must find you one, who will be tractable, and easily
dissuaded from virtue. In this house is a man who will afford just the
easy practice that you want. He is a rich old miser, whose want of
generosity has brought his son into great distress, and in a moment of
compassion he has been induced to promise him relief. The persuading him
to retract this frailty will be an exploit just suited to a beginner.
Come into the house. There sits the old man: we must make ourselves
little again; that will do; you are become very expert in changing your
bulk. Keep close behind me, as we go through his head. Now what do you
see in the mirror?
RECAB.
I see a woman weeping bitterly, and three children with her.
BELPHEGOR.
That is the son's wife, who has made the old man intend to be bountiful.
Draw this feather from your wing: one gentle touch of it will recall the
mirror to its natural passion, a love of money. Admirably done! A heap
of money has instantly taken the place of the daughter-in-law and her
children. You have revoked the intended munificence.
RECAB.
I have converted the old man's charity into a paving stone.
BELPHEGOR.
Yes; and I think there is no danger of his relapsing into kindness; we
will therefore leave him, and find one who will require a little more
art. Now recover your true size.
RECAB.
This temptation seems to be performed without any great skill.
BELPHEGOR.
You must not expect to find every mortal as easy to reason with as this
old man. Many mirrors must be solicited by a delicate and artful touch,
which cannot be acquired without study. The effect of the feather is to
bring into the mind whatever thoughts are the most alluring, and
therefore the touch must be regulated by the disposition. Some mirrors
are best provoked by a quick abrupt touch, others by a slow protracted
one; some must be urged by a hard blow, and others persuaded by a hint
that is only just felt. This knowledge is acquired by a study of human
nature.
RECAB.
It appears that we can do no more than recall the corrupt thoughts which
have been in the mind before; it is not in our power to suggest any
thing new.
BELPHEGOR.
Yes it is; but I thought it best to explain our art by degrees. The
feather merely drawn over the surface of the mirror does nothing more
than revive the vicious thoughts which have been there before. This is
the most simple and the easiest way of tempting. To inspire a new wish
you must draw upon the mirror with the point of your quill a picture of
the object that you would cause to be desired. Thus if you wish to
involve a man in an unlawful passion for a particular woman, you
delineate her upon his mirror, the nerves of which continue to vibrate
through all the lines that have been traced by your quill, thus making
him meditate on the woman's figure; and no man can avoid a vehement
desire for any object which is thus depicted on his mirror by the quill
of a devil. Before you can practise this way of tempting you must learn
to draw, and make yourself capable of executing a perfect resemblance.
But follow me, and I will soon find some person upon whom I can show you
a specimen of this art.
* * * * *
THE JUDGMENT OF MAHOMET.