We made our way through this crowd of tailors, and arrived at length,

before a great furnace, the mouth of which was more than ten fathoms in

diameter. There they bound these tailors in faggots, putting from ten to

a dozen in each bundle: they fastened each one by the feet, and then

brought a rope about the whole package, and afterwards suspending the

faggot to a hook, which was elevated by means of a pulley, over the

centre of the furnace, a devil detached it, and let it fall into the

fire. Sometimes the tailors who had their arms free, grasped so firmly

the pulley, that the devil had an infinite deal of trouble to loose their

hold: when that took place, he caused the whole mass to make a pirouette

in the air, and as the motion was violent, the tailors were always forced

to let go, and drop into the fire. It happened that one of these faggots

fell outside the aperture, upon a quantity of others, which were ranged

like a pile of wood, and which the devil measured. The individuals of

this faggot, seized hold of the others in such a manner, that they could

not separate them; so that the devils who united their strength for that

purpose, were obliged to take the whole pile, attach it to the hook, and

let it all go together. The mass was so great, that it seemed as if it

would choke the fire of hell. The devils bestirred themselves, and

finally made an end of the tailors; they then cast in a great quantity of

oil, tallow, and sulphur, and stirring them up with long iron tormentors,

and employing large bellows, the fire caught all at once, and raised a

flame, that rose above the mouth of the furnace more than three hundred

feet. All the tailors having been cast into the fire, their demon

general, with a haughty and severe air, came to demand of me, why I had

not been bound with the others.

“Because,” said I to him, “I am not a tailor, a rogue, a thief, neither a

cabbager of stuff nor money; I am here with my companion, Curiosity, to

inspect the beauties and antiquities of this country.”

“You are a liar,” replied the general; “you are one of my subjects; I

know you by your strait-cut dress, which, without doubt, you have made

out of the clippings of some other; come, obey; cast yourself into the

fire, or I will throw you in.”

As he was about to bind me, my demon informed the general that I was not

yet dead; that I had never been of any trade, and that he believed I

should not be one of their subjects, because those who descended quick

into hell, conducted themselves afterwards in such a manner, as not to

revisit it after death; furthermore, the cross of Saint James, (which I

carried,) would inspire fear, and cause false alarms in the bosoms of the

damned.

“Come hither, then,” said the general, “and profit by what you see; you

know, at least, that tailors are the fuel of hell, and serve to burn

those that come hither.”

My demon advised me to go promptly, because if the general should get

angry, he might do me a mischief. In walking along, he informed me the

unhappy tailors were so numerous, that they not only fed the great

furnace of hell, which warmed all the apartments, but also furnished the

table of Lucifer, when he had a mind to feast.

“How!” exclaimed I, “Lucifer eat? Can spirits eat?”

“Do you not know,” replied he, “that the damned are as the herb the sheep

eateth, and that death is this sheep? Have you not read in your sacred

books, that death devoureth the damned? _Mors depascet eos_.”

While he was speaking, we met a troop of booksellers, at whose head was

one Peter Marteau, a publisher, of Cologne; he was loaded with a burden

so unwieldy, that it was impossible to comprehend how any one man could

bear it. They informed me, these were the books printed under his name,

after his death. The booksellers of Holland were also very heavily

laden; and those of France bore also the books struck off at their

houses, with the title of a Dutch bookseller. These people were carrying

their books to the furnace, but were prevented by a singular accident: a

demon, who passed by with a flambeau, approaching to look at them, their

papers caught fire, and instantly spread from one to another through the

whole body: when they perceived the flame, they threw down their loads,

and fled with all convenient speed. I asked them why they were damned:

they answered, for the faults of others.

“An author,” observed they, “often carries a work to the printer, which

has no merit, and besides, as unsaleable as a girl, ugly and poor: by

this means the printer is ruined; in vain he curses the author, and seeks

to reimburse himself by the sale of an unpopular book; this book is the

cause of his failure; his creditors seize his goods and shop; he maddens,

and resigns himself to despair. A translator, who understands Greek,

undertakes a dull work; sometimes he supposes he has discovered a

manuscript; he carries his translation to the printer, who, not being

able to get rid of it, sells the leaves to the grocer or butter woman.

Another cause of our damnation; a bookseller sells at a handsome profit,

the _satires_ of Juvenal, the _comedies_ of Terence, and of other poets,

as those of Virgil and Ovid; a lackey, a shop-boy, a soldier, a clerk,

purchase these works, and amuse themselves among serving girls, with what

cost long study to these men of genius. Without mentioning other books

we vend, and which obtain circulation, only because they flatter the

taste or passions of the buyer, is it not true, that a pretty story of

gallantry, secret memoirs, cabinet intrigues, which profess to expose the

designs of the government, or the end of some great affair, are the most

dangerous books? and these are the kind we sell best. Is it us, then,

upon whom reproach ought to fall, or on the readers?”

“He speaks advisedly,” said a Holland publisher; “we have put to press

all the follies of certain authors, who wished to revenge themselves,

either upon a mistress, judge, minister of state, or prince; and for this

we must needs be adjudged guilty of other’s faults, and share their

punishment! but that would have been slight, if we had not meddled with

books of religion. We have published in Holland the works of all

parties; Christians, Jews, Catholics, Protestants, Socinians, Quakers,

and every other sect; and often in the same book, sold both sides of the

controversy.”

“You have then,” said I, “no religion!”

“We are,” replied the Dutchman, “the historians of authors; and as a

historian must have neither relations, country, friends, nor religion,

even so we have none of these; but under the name of citizens of the

world, have but one object, and that, the advancement of our own

interests.”

Immediately upon these words, he hastily fled with the others, to

re-assemble themselves near the demon of the book merchants, who called

for his whole crew. I felt great compassion at the fate of these unhappy

wretches, condemned to hell, because they were brought up to the

profession of publishing the dreams and extravagances of authors: it is

worthy also of reflection, that they are compelled to consult the taste

of the age, and of the multitude. Now the taste of the age is

exceedingly fickle: it is not that of learned men and wits; books of

morality and criticism are purchased much less readily than novels and

profane histories; so that book merchants, in their condition, have an

unhappiness that attaches itself to no other trade, independently of the

fact, that this business is not held in the same estimation at the

present day, that it formerly was. They were then ranked with men of

letters; they were admitted to the bar and church; the cardinal Ximenes

bestowed on them great preferments; he ennobled him who published the

famous _Bible d’arrias montars_. We see, in his time, publishers who

possessed rich abbeys and seats in the council. And what was not done

for them by the fifth Sixtus, that incomparable genius? In France, they

arrived at great distinction, and have been seen in the first posts of

the principal cities of the kingdom; and we know that a celebrated

emperor of Germany, was one of the first publishers, if not himself the

inventor of printing. But to return from this digression: when the book

merchants were re-assembled, the notaries, who had just arrived, wished

to place themselves in their ranks; but the devil used his authority to

separate them, averring that there was, in fact, a vast difference.

“Without doubt,” said the notaries, “we are the book merchants of

manuscripts; we compose and publish our works, to which the public accord

the same faith, as to things they have themselves seen; we are faithful

public witnesses, the guarantees of contracts, promises, and obligations;

the guardians of titles, rights, and privileges; our testimony is true,

infallible; above suspicion, deceit, and fraud.”

“Why,” said the devil, “are you come to hell? for if you fulfilled those

duties, you are honest people, and I declare, not only useful, but

necessary to the public; for, between ourselves, there is so little

public sincerity, that if one could not prove, by writings and witnesses,

the price at which he bought or sold, he would often find himself cheated

of his money.”

“It is,” said one of the notaries, “for some antedates or superfluous

ciphers, that we are damned; judge you, if the matter is of such vital

consequence; one is so often deceived by writings, and one figure is so

easily substituted for another;—the pen too, slips sometimes, and a

nought is so easily made!”

“You are right, in truth,” said the devil, addressing himself to me;

“they wrong these poor people, in sending them to us; they have committed

trifling faults, while they do not punish the apothecaries, even, for

putting up the recipes sent them. I have a great mind to send these

unfortunate persons home again.—Go; return, my friends; you have suffered

great injustice.”

“And we also,” said the corps of bankrupts; for they had done them the

honour to separate them from the merchants, who had dealt honestly.

“As to you, Signors,” said the devil, “enter into the furnace, without

further examination: we leave it to the notaries to enter at pleasure;

they have within them a torment as cruel as fire; it is conscience, that

never yet respected any person.”

“Oh, oh! ah, ah!” cried the bankrupts, “if they had not wronged us, we

should have kept our faith with every one: would you, because we were

cheated, that we should send our families to the almshouse?”

“I did not go to Holland, or to the islands, when I failed,” said one; “I

shut myself up in a private room in my house, and there negotiated,

through my wife, with my creditors, making each one to remit a part of

his just claims: you know what would have happened, had I appeared; there

is seldom much charity among creditors.”

“I,” said another, “did much better; for I transported from Madrid to

Venice all the merchandises I had collected, changed my name, and after

having made a fortune upon these goods, paid the principal, on condition

they would remit the interest: was there not in this bankruptcy, good

faith, justice, and prudence?”

“Yes,” replied the devil, “and I cannot conceive on what grounds you were

condemned; it is very evident it must have been for something else.”

“No,” continued the man, “it was for this very thing; because they

pretend that for these twenty years, I have injured my creditors, in

depriving them of the enjoyment and possession of their property;

consider, Signor devil, if I am under an obligation to repair this

damage? would it not only be ridiculous, but render them guilty of usury

towards me.”

“Ah! the honest man,” said the devil; “why do they send to us folks so

upright and sincere? but my friend,” continued he, “you have the ill luck

to be found in bad company; we cannot help you; arm yourself, therefore,

with courage, and prepare to support the sufferings to which the

bankrupts are destined; you will be forced to accustom yourself to much

pain; but console yourself, by uniting your complaints with those of your

comrades.”

Directly the devil stamped upon the pavement, where the publishers,

notaries, and bankrupts stood, when a trap door, springing open,

engulphed them all, and closed itself as before.

At this stage of my dream, I was awakened by a serenade of violins and

hautboys, that some one gave to a young lady of the house. I immediately

arose, and looking from the window, saw a number of young men, who, after

a prelude upon their instruments, began to sing. As there was no window

but mine open, they imagined they beheld the beauty to whom their homage

was addressed; and to amuse myself at their expense, I threw out a

splendid handkerchief, which one of them eagerly caught; he kissed it

more than an hundred times; then putting a diamond, worth thirty

pistoles, into a purse, threw it into my chamber, with a billet couched

in these terms:—

“My charming princess, at night my heart awakes for thee; by day, I am

only occupied with your charms. I burn, without cessation, with the love

you have inspired; when shall I have the happiness to express to you in

private, what I feel, and what your silence causes me to suffer? one

sweet line from your hand, shall re-assure and console me. Speak, and

nothing can equal my happiness; continue silent, my misery is at its

height, and I have no relief, but in death.”

After perusing this billet, I answered it in the following manner, the

substance of which was furnished by a song I happened to remember.

“When one reigns, or when one loves, the pain is not without its

pleasures; solicitude renders them more vivid. Happy prince! Happy

lover! it is not in vain you suffer; they will resist you but slightly,

when they themselves suffer from protracted resistance; yes, when one

reigns, or when one loves, the pain is not without its pleasures.”

I cast my billet from the window, and it was soon taken up. The

adventure seemed to me very pleasant: behold what followed; I deposited

in the bed of the fair, the diamond that was designed for her, not being

able to keep it longer with honour, and without exposing myself to the

anger of the young lady, who would soon know by what window it entered.

Upon retiring the next night, she found it; she informed her lover of the

discovery, and he explained the whole affair. She thanked me graciously

for my gallantry; I gave her the billet I had received, and she returned

my handkerchief. The mistake arose from my having lain, that night, in

the chamber ordinarily occupied by this young lady, her bed having been

removed to that of her father, and on that account was unable, as usual,

to answer her gallant. She made me the confidant of her attachment, and

besought my good offices with her father, which I so zealously used, that

in less than a month, I assisted at the marriage of these lovers.

Those who interpret dreams, say, that the one I had concerning hell,

hardly presaged this adventure. I pray those who read my reveries, or

nocturnal visions, to consider that they contain more truth, than one

would be apt, at first, to imagine: by day they ought to occupy

themselves with thoughts upon hell, as intently as they would in the most

important affair; or as they would seek the means of deliverance, if shut

up in prison, for a crime against the state. One is damned for a less

offence than the robbery of the treasury, revolt, or parricide. Yes, for

a much slighter fault, one shall be eternally tormented in hell.—Reflect

often upon this, dear readers, lest you have it to say, through the

interminable ages of futurity, “_I could not have thought it_.”

SEVENTH NIGHT.

THE REFORMATION OF HELL.

AS I promenaded one day in my garden, thinking of demons, which are

always at the back of every one, the foolish idea struck me, that it

would not be wholly useless to reform my life. I felt a curiosity to see

my evil demon; but, thought I to myself, if I should see him I believe I

should die with fear. No, said I again, I should not be terrified, if he

would but show himself in a human shape. After having repressed this

improper curiosity, and resumed my composure, I heard a man speaking to

me; and turning my eyes to that side from whence the voice proceeded, I

perceived, through a grated door, which separated the garden from the

park, on the other side, a gentleman of a good mien, who requested me to

open the gate, as he wished to have some conversation with me. As he

resembled a man with whom I had formerly some misunderstanding, I

refused; but he passed over it before I had the power to prevent him.

Immediately drawing my sword, I set upon him; and he doing the same,

parried my thrusts and stood upon the defensive only. As I perceived

that his figure at one moment contracted, and anon dilated to a huge

magnitude, I began to suspect that he was either a magician or a demon;

and stepping rearward some paces, demanded who he was. He answered that

he was my demon, and wished to render me a service.

“I have no need of such service,” said I to him; “for demons are both

deceptive and malicious.”

“No, no,” replied he; “fear nothing; only come with me.”

Forthwith he transported me into the air, and I soon lost sight of my

house and garden. In a short time we drew near the moon; and while

passing, I gazed attentively upon those valleys, mountains, and lakes,

which are but imperfectly perceived from the earth by the aid of

telescopes. The demon transported me to Sicily and set me down upon the

summit of a mountain covered with cinders yet hot, which he told me was

Etna. There was, from this place, a very fine prospect; one sees all the

beauties of the isle, and of the surrounding seas: in the distance, the

highlands of Africa are distinguished, like fleecy clouds, upon the verge

of the horizon; a multitude of vessels were sailing in view, which seemed

like white ants, or flies, sporting upon the surface of the ocean. After

we had rested there about one hour, the demon told me to follow him. We

descended into an aperture from whence belched forth smoke and flame that

illumined the whole mountain.

“It is here,” said the demon, “that Pliny fell, when he had the temerity

to approach too near.”

The whole way, as we proceeded, was composed of rocks and fat earth, like

bitumen, and from time to time, might be seen veins of sulphur. The

rocks were full of little crevices, from whence issued vapours and

sulphurous exhalations, and sometimes slight gusts of wind. When we had

travelled downwards about the space of an hour, we came to a vast cavern,

into which we entered; at its extremity was an immense palace, hewn in

the rock, and elevated upon massive pillars.

“This,” said the demon, “is the palace of Lucifer. Let us enter into the

great hall, where we shall see him give a general audience to the damned:

listen attentively to what shall be said; examine the events that take

place, and let what you shall see serve for your instruction.”

The following is a correct account of what I saw in these subterraneous

abodes.—For a long time, Lucifer, the ruler of hell had not given

audience to his subjects: the disorder that ordinarily obtain in states

from the negligence of princes, are incidental as well among demons as

men. The evil spirits remained sometimes for ages in the world, without

rendering any account of the souls they had gained, and often suffered

themselves to be driven from the tenements of which they were masters;

the address of some monk or priest snatching from them their conquest.

Men performed in hell the office of demons; and as they frequently left

their chains to seek their enemies, battles were as common, as formerly

between the Romans and Gauls. Lucifer, either from a fear for his crown,

or weariness at seeing so many combats, resolved one day to hear, in

general convention, the complaints of the damned; to introduce a reform

among the demons; to re-establish the submission and obedience due to his

sceptre, and to extend the boundaries of his empire by new conquests:

this was very easy of execution, provided he would give access and free

parlance to his subjects, and compel his demons to render an exact

account of their administrations. With this design he secretly consulted

with Belzebub, the prince of devils, Belial, the governor-general of

Pagan nations, and Ashtaroth, the princess who commands all women. At

the termination of this council, circular letters were published, which

ordained that all those who had complaints to prefer, and all the demons

scattered over the world, should assemble upon an appointed day in the

great hall of the palace, when and where they should be heard.

The day fixed being arrived, the hall was presently filled, and measures

taken, that as soon as one party was heard, another should enter.

Lucifer was seated upon his golden throne, having upon each side those

princes I have before mentioned. After having inveighed against the

disorders prevalent in hell, and stated his determination to rectify

them, he signified his permission to the standers by to speak. At this

intimation there arose an old man of a haughty appearance, and having a

crown of laurel upon his head; he read the Roman laws touching

parricides, and amplified upon the ingratitude of natural and adopted

children towards their parents.

“The parties,” said Belzebub to Lucifer, “must be ordered, before

commencing their speeches, to announce their names, because many of them

have been dead a great length of time.”

Such a decree was accordingly made; and he who had now spoken about half

an hour, said that he was Julius Cæsar, the first emperor of the Romans.

“Under the pretext of the liberty of our common country,” continued he,

“Brutus and Cassius, to gratify their ambition, assassinated me in the

midst of the senate, their enmity was not directed against the empire and

monarchy, which were, on the contrary, the object of their desires; but

they hated the emperor, who had magnified the Roman power, and extended

its dominion both north and east. Was the government better administered

in the hands of those senators, who, by their feuds and personal

dislikes, perilled the salvation of the republic, by resigning it into

the hands of a perpetual dictation, whom they were obliged shortly

afterwards to elect? Rome having once tasted the benefits of monarchy,

preferred rather to obey a Nero, a Tiberius, a Caligula, or a

Heliogabulus, than to re-establish this pretended public liberty, for

which Brutus and Cassius, those two traitors, took up arms against the

father of their country.”

He continued his discourse in this strain, and concluded by moving, that

they should be treated in hell as assassins, public disturbers, and

traitors.

Brutus then arose, and with a trembling voice, said: “Senators, you have

heard Cæsar; have you not been biassed by his eloquence? But will you

forget the services I have rendered? Remember the advice you privately

gave me, to encourage the glorious design I had conceived in favour of

your liberty? Answer then to Cæsar, that it was by your advice I gave

the fatal stab; that if the laws had not been abrogated and violated by

the formidable power of tyranny, you would, yourselves, have put him to

death under the forms of justice; and that your silence, after the

execution of my project, was an evidence of your approbation.”

Cassius, assuming the discourse, said he would not undertake to plead his

own cause if Cicero was present.

“I will not,” said Cæsar, “listen to this timid sycophant; this cowardly

soul; this selfish orator: when he feared my power, he said, in full

senate, that he would be my buckler against enemies, and, at the same

time, conspired against my life, and defends the act of Brutus and

Cassius. His cupidity was so eager, that for money, he might be bought

on the same day to speak upon both sides of a case; and so sober-tongued,

that there was not a soldier in the army, who would have bestowed upon

his greatest foe one tittle of the scurrility he heaped upon Anthony.

You recollect, Signors, his phillipics: he had not the courage to support

a change of fortune; and the common cause was abandoned by this patriotic

man before he was slain by Anthony.”

“May all such wretches be ever punished in the same manner! and with what

can they reproach me? Did I put any senator to death? Did I pillage the

commonwealth? Did I not return, by my will, what I had amassed and

conserved for her defence? Will they accuse me of tyranny and

usurpation? I, who delivered the Romans from the ambition of a Pompey?

Will they charge me with cruelty? I, who could not behold without

weeping the head of my most inveterate enemy? Yes, I can truly say, that

it was grief at the sad fate of Pompey, that invited me to declare war

against Egypt. I was desirous of avenging the death of this great man.

He would have made himself master of Rome if I had not prevented him; and

because I stood forth as the defender of the public liberty, was

assassinated as a usurper. What wickedness! What perfidy! What

cruelty! The senate recognized every thing I had done, when, after my

death, they erected statues, and built me temples. Infernal judge, will

you bear with these impious men, who killed him whom the empire delighted

to honour?”

Cicero would have spoken, fearing the eloquence of Cæsar, or his

vehemency, would impose upon the judges; but Cæsar constantly

interrupting him, Lucifer, tired with their clamours and the length of

the cause, ordered that the emperor, as a punishment for not having

profited by the advice he received on his way to the senate, upon the day

of his death, should remain in his present place.

“It was I,” said Cicero, “who caused this information to be sent him.”

“Base liar! perfidious man!” cried Cæsar, “it was you who gave me this

information! why did you not bring it yourself?”

“It was the will of Fate, that Brutus, Cassius, and other senators,

involved in this conspiracy, should be marks for infamy, as traitors to

their country, and as having afforded a direful example of politicians

without courage.”

After him arose Alexander the Great, very much vexed that Cæsar had

spoken before him, and pretending that the cause of this Roman emperor

should not be considered before that of the emperor of the world; but he

abandoned his pretensions, when a crier had made proclamation, that in

hell, all conditions were equal, and that the damned had among them, no

other distinctions than those of crime.

“Infamous prince,” said Clytus, who stood behind Alexander, “dare you

speak, after having murdered the best of your friends? Is not the

brightness of thy conquests tarnished by the shame of thy cruelty? What

punishment dost thou merit, for having despoiled princes so distant from

Macedon, who, so far from having wronged or injured you, did not even

know you?”

“Silence,” said Alexander.

“What! I be silent! if Lucifer, the chief of this empire, imposes silence

upon me, I will obey: but shall I yet receive orders from you, cruel

brigand, notorious robber, sacrilegious rascal, debauchee, fool,

drunkard, incendiary?”

“No, no: speak, son of Olympias,” said Lucifer to Alexander.

He began thus: “Alexander, son of Jupiter Amnion, lord of the world, most

high and mighty emperor, conqueror of the habitable globe—”

Clytus laughed at the boasts: “what a lord! what an emperor! what a god!

Behold the titles which I dispute. In the first place, his mother was a

virtuous woman. She but mocked her son, who, through pride, accused her

with having committed adultery with Jupiter Amnion. Secondly, he was not

lord of the world; since he did not conquer the tenth part of it: and

thirdly, it is false that he is a great emperor; for an emperor is only

ennobled by heroic virtues and qualities, which he did not possess. And

how is it possible that he should be the conqueror of the habitable

globe, having never been neither to Africa, nor very far in Europe, nor

to China? Thus he is only Alexander, as I am Clytus.”

Here Lucifer passed an order that this prince should only assume the

titles that veritably pertained to him, and permitted Clytus to continue.

“I was,” said Clytus, “the prime favourite of this Alexander, who,

wishing to conquer every body, had no enemy nearer and more powerful than

himself. Contemplate our portraits: I was his favourite, and I have

always seen him as ambitious of distinction in wickedness as he was for

honourable action: but as a foundation to my complaints against him, I

ought to state, that this prince, elevated by his flatterers to a place

among the gods, was accustomed to speak without respect of Philip his

father. He showed himself more munificent towards gladiators, musicians,

and drunkards, than towards his bravest captains. In conformity to this

disposition, he gave the kingdom of Sidon to Abdolonymus, a well-digger;

he committed numberless extravagances at the instigation of his

mistresses; to please a courtesan named Roxana, he burnt the palace of

the Persian kings; his conduct towards Parmenio, Philotas, and

Calisthenes, as well as Aminthus, his relation, is sufficient proof of

his barbarity. And did he not exhibit more than cruelty towards me? I

was the most faithful of his confidants; he who flattered him the least;

who gave him the best of counsel; to whom he owed his reputation and

honour. Alas! because I had the presumption to speak my true sentiments

at a feast, he arose from the table and inflicted upon me a mortal wound.

I now demand expiation. King of hell, revenge Clytus, punish Alexander.”

This prince then replied as follows:—“Favourites bear the same relation

to sovereigns as mice to cats.”

At this exordium Clytus began to laugh, and said: “Listen to a comparison

worthy of the disciple of Aristotle.”

“The mouse,” continued Alexander, “seems at first to divert itself with

the cat; but finally this animal, being more powerful, devours the mouse,

who cannot accuse her with cruelty for wishing to take her turn in the

sport. Such, about me, was the condition of Clytus: but to demonstrate

the mistake of this ungrateful favourite, I aver, that it is the policy

of princes to keep favourites, who are towards them neither forward nor

haughty; and not to accord them too much power. The liberties they take

with us cause us to fall into contempt; their hauteur makes us appear

timid, and their power fills us with just suspicions. Clytus having thus

taken advantage of me, I was frequently ashamed of his familiarities.

Such was his pride, that if I dared to contradict him in the least thing,

he reared up like an unruly horse: my bounty had rendered him so

powerful, that he was in fact Alexander, and I was but Clytus. In

particular, he abused my mistresses, and the officers of my house; in

counsel he was always right and I wrong; in every battle, it was he that

was victorious, and I who had been slack and timid. If I put some to

death, it was but consonant with justice, to punish the seditious or

conspiring; if I burnt the palace of the kings of Persia, it was for the

purpose of destroying a fortress that had been used against me; if the

pleasures that were indulged in after my conquests were sometimes too

free, it arose from a desire to gratify my generals; in fine, the death

of Clytus crushed those treasonous designs of which I had notice. He

only waited for an opportunity to set one part of my army against the

other, and to despatch me. I sang at a feast the songs my soldiers had

composed upon their officers and myself; I rallied Clytus for having, in

a certain action, taken to flight: this madman let loose his rage upon

me; he loaded me with contumely; the wine he had drank deprived him of

reason: I thought it was time to punish his audacity, and to prevent the

excesses to which it might carry him. Thus perished an usurping,

traitorous, insolent and unworthy favourite. Lucifer, I have spoken the

truth.”

After having heard the parties, the king said to his demons, “Take notice

how proper it is that a subject should be faithful and submissive to his

prince; and that a favourite should not go beyond the respect he owes to

his sovereign. _We do order_ that as long as Alexander shall be

tormented by his ambition, Clytus shall experience all the remorse that

springs from rashness and ingratitude.”

At the same moment was heard the voice of Seneca, speaking to Nero:

“Cruel prince, how have you profited by the lessons of clemency,

goodness, and humanity I have given you? Did you not murder me to

repossess yourself of the wealth I had received from you? Such was my

recompense for having raised you to empire. Was it not I who saved you

from the conspiracy formed by Piso, after you had set fire to all

quarters of Rome? Was it not I who delivered you from the snares which

had been spread for you by the friends of your mother Agrippina, whom you

afterwards put to death? I was more careful of your reputation than

yourself, when I advised you not to exhibit yourself as a comedian upon

the theatre; when you entered the lists to dispute the prize of poetry

with Lucan, whom you afterwards assassinated.”

“Old fool,” said Nero, in a slender voice, “thou wert become unworthy of

my favours by thy excessive ambition, and by the dishonour you brought

upon my palace. Great Lucifer, you see a man who, being my preceptor,

did not profit by his own theory. He maintained a shameful commerce with

my mother; and with a view to favour it, poisoned the Emperor Claudius,

my father, who did not commit suicide, as was the prevalent opinion at

Rome. The partiality of my mother filled him with such audacity, that he

projected mounting the throne, and having me poisoned. I was informed of

the intrigue, which I suspected before having received positive advice.

I observed that his immense wealth had obtained him very many friends

among the senators, gentlemen, and officers of the army; and it is worth

while, also, to know, that this man who preached so much about frugality,

and the love of mediocrity, was far from practising these virtues, which

are easily reported of a man possessing twelve millions of revenue.

After having punished the tyranny and usurpation of my mother, I was

bound to punish the crimes of Seneca; but I was yet lenient enough to

leave the manner of his death to his own choice.”

“The subjects and favourites of princes,” said Lucifer, “are always

culpable, when they are ungrateful, or entertain any other desire than

the prosperity of their masters: they ought to leave to them the

recompense of their services, without attempting to reward themselves.

_We will_, then, that the philosopher, Seneca, born in Spain, should be

punished as if he had compassed his designs upon Nero: and that Nero be

treated as an unjust and barbarous prince.”

“This ordinance,” said Sejanus, “does not concern me: Tiberius caused me

to be assassinated without reason, actuated by one of those suspicions to

which he was usually addicted. He was troubled more by a fear of losing

his life, than the empire. His courtezans had too much influence over

him. As to myself, I have never punished any but the enemies of

Tiberius: to be sure, they were also mine. But were not, in truth, the

opposers of a minister who governed as well as I did, foes to their

prince and country?”

Tiberius would have answered; but Lucifer, interrupting him, ordered that

all the favourites of princes should come in. There appeared a vast

number, among them Plautius, the favourite of Severus, was particularly

remarkable: also Faustus, the favourite of Phyrrhus, king of Epirus;

Pyreneus and Cleandrus, favourites of the emperor Commodus; Cincinnatus,

favourite of Britulus; Rufus, favourite of Domitian; Ampronisius,

favourite of Adrian; Belisarius, favourite of Justinian.

“Listen,” said Lucifer; “the favour of princes is like quick-silver, the

motion of which cannot be arrested, and which flies the endeavour to

restrain it. If one would sublimate it, it is a vapour that exhales

itself; and often, if too much is used, it becomes dangerous. If one

anoints with it, it penetrates to the very bones: those who are

accustomed to draw it from the mine, and purify it, contract a malady

which makes them tremble all their lives. This is the character of

princes’ favour: it is inconstant, because it depends upon the humour and

passion of one who seeks only novelty and the pleasure of the moment. If

you are importunate, if you exhibit the least sign of impatience, if you

are even suspected of prudence in the management of your credit or

fortune, the attachment of the prince will cool. If you show any marks

of envy against another, of discontent in yourself, or indifference in

the presence of your protector, he suspects you, and passes straightway

from suspicion to enmity and hatred. Bear then with resignation your bad

fortune and the humour of your master: your pains, attentions, time,

health, wealth all lost, you are at length obliged to return into your

humble retreat, there to expect death; which, to your grief, comes not

soon enough to free you from regret and the remembrance of your follies.

A casual sally, an instant of good humor, a lucky word, a sudden caprice,

a nothing, makes a favourite. Five or six years suffice for his fortune;

if delayed, it escapes him. The same causes can bestow or withdraw

favour. A favourite ought to make these reflections in his

prosperity,—that he must abstain from those liberties that are common

among equals, and that freedom which friends indulge in; that he must be

constantly submissive, and know how to accompany respect with

complaisance; that the prince ought always to speak the first word in a

confidential affair; and to preserve his secrets, he must dispose himself

to every kind of privation. He who hath not regulated his conduct by

these precepts must bear the burden of his own imprudence; and for this

reason _we order_ that those favourites who have incurred the displeasure

of their sovereigns shall be punished as unfaithful subjects.”

Lucifer then commanded an old man to advance, whom he perceived in the

hall behind the others. There advanced then a man of a pleasant

countenance, in a Greek habit, and followed by other persons clothed in

the same manner.

“I am Solon,” said this old man: “I gave to the Athenians laws which they

did not exactly follow; this person contiguous to me is the philosopher

Anaxarchus, whom the tyrant Nicocreon caused to be brayed in a mortar: in

this little hump-back, behold the famous Aristotle, preceptor to the

great Alexander: his philosophy excused the disciple from practising the

morality he taught. This academician is Socrates, whom his fellow

citizens put to death with a cup of hemlock. This old man is the divine

Plato, who, spite of the sublimity of his doctrine, sold oil for the

defrayment of his expenses. All the rest are men of letters, who, like

ourselves, have excited the envy, and experienced the vengeance of the

princes, Archons and Tyrants, of Athens; and it is now upon these tyrants

we unitedly demand vengeance.”

Then Denis, the tyrant, accompanied by some other princes, presented

themselves and spoke in this manner:—“Of whom do these old dotards

complain? Infatuated by their conceits, they pretended to dictate law to

the whole world! In fact they had so imbued the people with their dogmas

and their customs, that when we wished to make some changes, they excited

sedition. They had so much pride and presumption, that they arrogated to

themselves alone the possession of common sense and reason; while in

truth they were distinguished but for opinions founded upon vain

subtleties, and by a language not common and familiar to men:—and now I

should like to ask them what certain knowledge they had; what was their

idea upon the nature of the soul? and what constituted the reason and

equity of their laws?”

“I will add to that,” said Julian, the apostate, “that there are pedants,

who, under the affectation of austerity, concealed the most extreme

ambition. Do they complain of the contempt that was shown them, when

their manner of living exposed them to it? Will they speak of their

poverty, who would not labour for a living? The people of letters

deceive themselves if they believe that princes and the public ought to

enrich them for vain and useless sciences. Should they not make their

calculation for that, when, idle in their cabinets, they amuse themselves

in contemplating the figures and number of the stars, which they apply,

to find fault with the common prejudices of our ancestors?”

“At least,” observed Cato of Utica, “you cannot make those remarks with

regard to Cicero, or myself, who have exercised the highest magistracies

of Rome.”

“Old fox,” answered Julian, “I cannot, it is true, say so of you two; for

if you were attached to letters, you were still more so to your fortunes.

And of whom can you complain, you who accelerated your own death? Did

you not hope to gain an easy immortality in thus quitting your

terrestrial abode? It was to arrive at this, that you did not wish to

survive the pretended misfortunes of your country. Fine courage that, of

a man who kills himself to escape fighting with his enemies! Would you

not have done better to have preserved yourselves for the defence of

Rome, its liberty, and your goods?”

“I recommend you,” said Cato, “to the Antiochians: they will tell the

truth of you better than I can: they know you; they are fully acquainted

with your pusillanimity, your vices, but, above all, with your vanity,

which surpasses your knowledge and eloquence. Look at this great

emperor, who, to punish Antioch, quits the sword, assumes the pen, and

is, after all, nothing but an ignoramus.”

“I am called Suetonius,” said he, who presented himself next.

“Yes, this is Suetonius,” said the emperor Domitian, who was at his side;

“this is that notorious forger, and compiler of histories and chronicles,

who, after the example of other historians, being a partisan and a

flatterer, speaks the truth from caprice, and lies from inclination.”

“I!” said Suetonius; “I have said nothing that I cannot prove by

indubitable evidence. Is it not true, that upon the testimony of vile

informers, you have taken from the living, the estates of the dead who

were accused? Is it not true that you have levied upon your subjects

tributes so enormous, that they were forced to claim protection from a

foreign power? Is it not true that you have despoiled the Jews of their

goods only because they were born Jews? Is it then a crime to have been

circumcised at birth and not to adore the gods of the Roman empire? Is

it not true that by your excessive expenses for theatres, and buildings,

you have exhausted the purses of the Romans, and left to perish with

hunger the bravest soldiers of the army? To escape the consequences of a

sedition, you committed horrible pillages, and thus paid your debts.

Your pride and impiety are exhibited in these few words, extracted from

one of your declarations: ‘_Your Lord_, _your God_,’ commands thus.”

“What signifies that?” said Domitian: “Are not the emperors gods as well

during their lives as after their death? Were not Augustus and Cæsar

adored in the empire? I was as much a god at the time I willed it, as my

predecessors have been gods after their death. The divinity of men is

nothing but a power superior to that of others, as the present divinity

of Augustus is but a perfection above the virtues and qualities of living

men. But who, among men of sense, has ever believed that the gods were

like men? or adored in the statue any thing more than the virtue of the

original? Who ever believed that the number of gods was equal to their

names, their temples, or their statues? No, no, Suetonius, you did not

believe all this, and it is from perfidiousness that you have accused me

of impiety for being called a god.”

“And your unjust vexations,” replied Suetonius.

“As it regards that,” said the emperor, “subjects who cannot penetrate

the designs of their sovereigns always consider the tributes imposed upon

them as unjust; but if enemies were about to inundate the kingdom; if the

empire was menaced with approaching ruin; if there was danger of the

pillage and sack of frontier cities, would not the prince have reason to

take measures for the prevention of these disasters by a heavier levy,

and a stronger assemblage of troops? If I had apprized the Romans of

these things, which I had learned by my spies, they would have been more

likely to have risen against myself, than against the common enemy: so

powerful is the voice of interest with the multitude!”

Here Lucifer interrupted the emperor and ordered all the historians,

historiographers, authors of journals, of memoirs and chronicles, to

advance, to listen to their sentence. “It is,” said he, “for the public

interest, that mendacity should be punished in writers, as in those who

speak falsely; but it is of equal interest that writers should be

permitted to speak the truth, without flattery and without fear, to the

end, that men by reading the history of their ancestors, may learn to

become good, and detest the conduct of the unjust. Although it is crime

that brings us subjects, _we wish_, nevertheless, that it should be

punished in our empire; and it is that which constitutes the justice of

the torments they feel. A prince flatters himself in vain with a fine

and secret policy, if his subjects are rendered unhappy by the rules he

has prescribed for their conduct; whatever colour he may take to cover

his actions, and make them appear just, if they are not so in effect,

which the event proves, he expects in vain the approbation, the esteem

and love of his subjects. The writer who undertakes a history ought to

divest himself of the sentiments of both love and hatred; he ought to

have no partiality for country, relations or friends; he is the sole

judge of the affairs of which he treats, and the master of princes when

he describes their actions. Accordingly, _we ordain_, that Domitian and

the other princes shall submit to the judgments of their historians; that

the historians shall be punished for flatteries and lies; for the

examination of which, we order them before the tribunals of conscience,

to whom we delegate plenary authority for the decision of their cases;

and as a judgment upon the geometricians, geographers, astronomers, and

mathematicians, we condemn the one party to measure by minutes, seconds,

and lines, the dimensions of all the provinces, kingdoms, and empires of

the earth; and the others to be shut up in the planets upon which they

have pretended to make observations, to the end that they may be

instructed by their experience. Furthermore we decree, that afterwards,

the aforesaid geometricians, geographers, astronomers, and

mathematicians, to be there punished for their foolish and rash

opinions.”

The audience having now lasted a considerable time, Lucifer commanded

something to eat to be brought into the middle of the hall. Forthwith

there appeared a vast number of chirurgians, cooks of hell, with an

almost equal number of apothecaries, having the title of confectioners to

the devil. They set forth a great table of gold, upon which they placed

a vast quantity of silver plate: they informed me that this table and

plate had been fabricated with the gold and silver stolen, and afterwards

sold to the goldsmiths. I have never any where seen such a quantity of

linen: it proceeded from the thefts committed by linen dealers and washer

women; for all that is stolen upon earth, goes into hell after the second

or third generation of thieves. They served for the first course a heap

of tailors roasted upon the spit. Lucifer is very fond of this meal; and

the expression, “_may the devil swallow me_,” which the tailors often

use, is not inappropriate; for he does swallow many; and the demons, his

table companions, do the same: the subjects always having tastes similar

to those of their masters, be they good or bad. I inquired of one of the

demons, why his infernal majesty devoured more tailors than cooks,

sausage makers, butchers, peruquiers, in short, people of other trades.

“It is,” said he, “for a very politic reason; for otherwise he would soon

want subjects of any other description; those of other trades are by far

the least in number, while the others are so plenty, that if we could eat

them all in one day, the morrow would supply as many more: they arrive

continually, in one eternal troop. Sometimes in beholding them afar off,

we imagine them to be entire armies, coming to besiege us: this trade is

more useful in hell, than you would be apt to think: we send among the

tailors, young devils without experience: their shops are so many

academies for our youth. If you had nice eyes, you might perceive more

than fifty young demons in each tailor shop; some cut the cloth; others

the list; these take away the superfluous pieces; those put them in the

place they call the _street_; while some do nothing but open and shut the

place they call the _eye_. Some carry the cabbaged pieces to sell;

others make complete suits out of the patterns cut from the cloth; in

fine, there are many about the women, girls, and valets of the tailor, to

assist them in stealing the cloth, or stretching the binding. When these

young devils have finished their diabolical apprenticeship, they are sent

to the merchants. In that station they abridge all the measures, and

sometimes throw themselves into the scale, among the merchandise, to make

it weigh more: if you could see all their tricks, you would be highly

amused.”

When this course was removed from the table, they served another of

tailors, roasted upon the gridiron: after that, others, baked in pates,

smothered in a pot, fried in a pan, and dressed in a hundred different

ways, with this only difference, that those of each nation had a

particular dressing. The French tailors were spitted; the English,

grilled; the Holland, fried; the Germans, smothered in a pot; the

Italians, made into ragout; the Spanish, boiled, because they are

ordinarily hard; the Polonese, in pates; the Hungarians, salad; the

Turks, cooked in rice; the Greeks, in wine; the Arabians, dried in the

sun; the Egyptians, with onion sauce; the Algerines, fried in lard; the

Portuguese, preserved in sugar; the Danish, Swedish, and Muscovite, were

almost all dressed in the same manner; that is to say, baked in brandy;

the Tartar, boiled in horse grease; the Persian, fricaseed with gravy _de

demon_; the Indians, baked in bananas; the Chinese, and all the

islanders, were very much seasoned with spices and sugar; the Ethiopians,

negroes of Fez, Morocco, and Guinea, were baked in black butter; and the

Americans, in milk.

“What an immense quantity of tailors,” said I to the demon who was near

me; “your cooks must understand their business, to be able to compound so

many dishes of viands, which differ no more the one from the other, than

the bullocks of Spain from those of Ireland.”

They served to Lucifer wine of the various publicans of the world.

“Fie!” said I to the demon; “your master is hardly a connoisseur of

wine.”

“You are mistaken,” said he; “it is true, that this wine has been mixed

with water, sugar, and spices; but the publicans are obliged to separate

all these drugs, even the water which they ordinarily put in, from the

rest, which remains pure, fair and clear; if the publicans did not do

this, they would put them in the press, and draw from their veins all the

wine they had themselves drank.”

“How!” said I, “do you live upon nothing but human flesh?”

“How should we live else?” answered he. “Can we eat beef, mutton,

partridges, fish, and beans? These animals come not hither, but in

smoke; and herbs will not grow in a place so hot.”

“How can you say that animals come here in smoke?”

“It is those the idolaters sacrifice to the prince of demons: this smoke

penetrates even to this place, and is the only perfume agreeable to our

sovereign; for as to the scented oils, powders, and pomatums, of which

the men and women of the other life make use, Lucifer is so incommoded,

that those who are thus scented, dare not approach his apartment.”

“Egad!” said I, “Lucifer has then a smell keener than that of a hound.”

“Yes: he has so fine a scent, that he instantly knows whether a girl has

been cautious or not; whether she has been married, or not, and the exact

number of times: and the other day there came here a _menette_, who made

a profession of _menettisme_, wearing the habits, air, _et cetera_: she

wanted to make every thing appear smooth, saying, that she had been sent

here for having administered to herself the discipline, contrary to the

direction of her directors: but the prince approaching her, perceived,

and said immediately, that this habit, modest as it was, covered much

indevotion, sacrilege, gallantry, and falsehood. The young girl retired

abashed; she had not imagined that any person could discover, under the

exterior of such simplicity, what she had been guilty of, during her

life; you see Lucifer has an exquisite nose.”

“If he has,” said I, “the other senses in a similar perfection, he well

merits the commandery of hell.”

In the mean time, Lucifer, and the other lords, invited to his table,

continued to eat with good appetite: besides the individuals of his

council, there were a great number whom I heard designated by the names

given to the gods of fable, such as Jupiter, Saturn, Apollo, Mercury: and

to goddesses, such as Juno, Venus, Diana, Proserpina, and others; I

should think there were at least fifty persons at table. These gods and

goddesses were men and women, like the others; and in reflecting upon

that circumstance, I thought they were princesses and princes, whom the

people had put in the place of gods. But these ignorant people deceive

themselves; for their gods, instead of being in heaven, are in hell. The

same thing often happens in the world; a particular person is looked upon

as a man of honour, who is, in fact, worse than one whom they consider

the most knavish; another as a good man, who, in truth, is one of the

worst; they frequently speak of one as happy after death, whose lot, if

they did but know it, is quite the contrary: this is the sentiment of

saint Pere, who said, “they peopled heaven with the inhabitants of hell.”

The dessert served up to this great demon, was very pleasant to behold:

it consisted of hypocrites, bigots, and apostate monks, all preserved in

sugar: in the middle of it was a country seat in sugar: one could

perceive the chateau, with its fosses, garden, park, wood, closes,

vineyards, fish-ponds, fountains, jets of water, mill, stables, and

farms; the whole being executed in the most perfect symmetry of

architecture.

The demon observing my surprise, told me, the devil usually devoured

goods unjustly acquired: “have you not,” said he, “heard it remarked,

that property illy gotten, failed not _to go to the devil_? It comes to

us; for be it known to you, that what is lost in the world, falls down

here. You can find in our magazines things of every description: the

entire shops of merchants, stores of grain and wine, tons of silver, an

arsenal filled with arms, cabinets of jewellery and precious stones,

tablets covered with antique medals, a kind of pantheon, filled with

idols of gold, silver, and bronze, which you have no doubt seen at the

houses of antiquaries: for the fruits of larcenies, spunging, and usury,

always come straight to us.”

After the desert, the Jews and Turks brought coffee, tea, chocolate,

tobacco, aqua vitæ, liquors, and opium. The lords drank of all, and

Jupiter partook so freely of tobacco and brandy, that he became quite

elevated: he began to sing a song in the Greek language, the substance of

which was: “What a charming spectacle for the mighty Lucifer! the dead

dispersed throughout this cavern, are to him delicious meats. Subtle

Love, and you gods of combat, theft, and drunkenness, contribute to

content the taste and desires of our sovereign. So long as one remains

in Tartarus, he must not hope for any other pleasure; we must not think

of objects to be procured in other places.”—While Jupiter repeated this

song, Juno accompanied him, saying: “So long as one regains in Tartarus,

he must not hope for any other pleasure. Lovers, you enhance our joy,

for death hath separated you for ever.”—In imitation of Jupiter and Juno,

Mercury and Mars sang thus: “Yes, while one remains in Tartarus, he

cannot hope for other pleasures. The money which was our love, is lost

for ever: we love it still, but despairing of enjoyment.”—Mars, with a

voice of thunder, sang. “Yes, when one is in Tartarus, he must not hope

for other pleasures. War, which was our delight, is no more for us, but

a vain flourish: here one hears neither fife nor drum.”

After this little concert, which amused Lucifer, he made them call the

players upon instruments, who joined the gods and goddesses. There was

then heard the most frightful music: with the sound of violins and other

instruments, which were played upon by those who had been musicians in

the other world, there mingled a horrid noise of thunder, and raging

wind, such as it produces when it rushes through a straight street, or

groans, amid a wood of firs. This noise was succeeded by another, like

that which is heard at the eruption of Mount Vesuvius or Etna: my ear was

struck with a bellowing, like that of the sea, when agitated by a furious

tempest. All these agents yielded to a choir of voices, that issued from

the lowest depths: there was heard nothing but complaints, groans, cries,

and howlings, similar to those of dogs, impatient of confinement. I

should have expired with fear, if I had not been previously warned, that

this was the music which would divert the prince of hell. Jupiter and

Mars, in spite of their intrepidity, found this music so disagreeable,

that they ceased singing, and signified their uneasiness to Lucifer.

They then removed the table, and the service of plate; and the audience

having been resumed, they began to call up cases of different states; and

after having disposed of those pertaining to the people of justice, the

sword, and the church, they cited the women of all conditions. The

beautiful Helen then appeared, who complained that at her return from the

siege of Troy, she had been condemned to be hung by Polixo, her relation,

at whose house, in the isle of Rhodes, she had taken refuge, Nisistratus

and Megapontus having driven her from Greece. She was asked if she had

consented to be abducted by Paris; if she had accorded him the last

favours before leaving Peloponessus; if she had granted the same to the

king of Egypt, when his vessel touched at her country. She answered

ingenuously to these questions, that having been married by policy and

force, to prince Menelaus, she had acquainted him that she did not love

him.

“Did you love,” said Lucifer, “the Trojan prince before marriage?”

“I had not then seen him; but my heart was never for Menclaus; it was

free when Paris came to Argos, and its first impression was in favour of

this stranger prince. Am I culpable for all the evils caused by the

siege of Troy? Furthermore, the Greeks ought not to complain of this

abduction, as a breach of hospitality: some years before, they had taken

away a Trojan lady; and in ancient times, had not Jupiter, of Grecian

origin, stolen Europa, a young princess of Asia, from this part of the

world, inhabited by Trojans?”

Menelaus spoke after his wife, whose ingratitude and infidelity he

exaggerated; he accused her of having poisoned him on the return from

Troy. “Why assassinate me, when she had the liberty to go to her

relations? Could I have done more to express my regret at her loss,

after her elopement, than by building to her memory a temple, consecrated

to Venus?”

“You are a very clever man,” said Jupiter to Menelaus; “who told you that

a husband could make his wife love him by caresses and services? A woman

who does not love her husband, takes all his cares for stratagems,

invented by jealousy: she believes him false and wicked. Accuse only

your patience and weakness; and between ourselves who are dead, since the

living cannot hear it, it is a very good joke, to make so much noise

about the infidelity of a coquette:” and Jupiter sang a song, the burden

of which was, that one was often very happy to be rid of his wife, as he

then could enjoy the advantages of liberty.

“Am I permitted to be as stoical as you are?” said Menelaus. “One must

have a great force of spirit, to vanquish a passion like that of love:

how cruel, to love without return! Ah! I now condemn myself: let Helen

prosecute her quarrel with her relation Polixo, to which I am a

stranger.”

“Since this Grecian prince is voluntarily condemned,” said Lucifer, “I am

about to pass sentence upon the husbands who have complained of their

wives; and upon the wives who have complained of their husbands.”

The judgment was couched in these words: “Since love is natural, and no

one can dictate a woman’s will, and since neither the jealousy nor

severity of a husband are of any avail, to compel a wife to conjugal

fidelity, we order, that all husbands shall suffer the pain of foolish

and indiscreet love, without having from that any pretence to restrain

them; provided, however, that they may revenge themselves with chance

intrigues, and contribute, by their patience and complaisance, to the

ruin of their rivals. We ordain, also, that women who complain of the

amours of their husbands, shall be condemned to the torments of jealousy;

with an equal permission to those ladies who are not beloved by their

husbands, to receive the cares and attentions of their neighbours.

Finally, we forbid the married of both sexes, to bring any more actions

upon these subjects, and reject them, in advance, from court. We command

our demons, and principally Asmodeus, the demon of marriage, to bear in

hand the execution of the present ordinance. Given in hell, at the grand

audience hall, to be signified to whom it may concern.—Signed, _Lucifer_,

king of hell: and countersigned by my lord, the devil _Patiras_.”

“Signor,” said Cleopatra, “this edict cannot prejudice my rights against

Augustus, emperor of the Romans: his ambition prompted him to attach to

his triumphal car the queen of the Egyptians: to save myself from this

shame, I laid violent hands upon myself. I demand that Augustus should

be punished as guilty of my death.”

“Am I responsible for your actions?” said Augustus. “Who informed you

that I should put this indignity upon you? Cæsar had loved you; Pompey

also, as I believe: that Antony did, no one can doubt. The reputation of

those charms by which you had subdued the conquerors of the world, had

made such an impression upon my heart, that I would not only have made

you its governor, but have re-established you upon the throne of your

ancestors; but the timidity so natural to your sex, pride, and

haughtiness, misled you: the poison you employed to produce death was so

subtle, that I could never discover its nature.”

“All! tyrant,” said Antony to Augustus, “you were not satisfied with

having at the same time caused my death and the loss of my empire; but

you must also effect the death of my spouse, whom I preferred to the

throne.”

“I deny that,” replied Augustus; “you abandoned the field of battle to

follow Cleopatra; yourself commanded a servant to give the blow of death,

to prevent falling into my hands; it was in conformity to your counsel

that Cleopatra killed herself; great Lucifer, I am innocent of these

things.”

“We ordain,” said Lucifer, “that both parties should be delivered to

their remorse of conscience; if they are not satisfied with this

judgment, let them present themselves before Astarte, sovereign of women,

to whom Venus and Pallas are associated, where their cases shall be more

amply examined.”

There came next a queen, accompanied by many women and girls, armed as

soldiers: this was said to be the foundress of the kingdom of the

Amazons. To this troop, Zenobia, queen of Palmyra, Elizabeth, queen of

England, and other princesses who had governed their states, joined

themselves. Amazonide, daughter of Samornas, (so they called the

foundress of this female monarchy,) complained against Hercules that he

had made some of her subjects captive: against Theseus, who had married

one, when their army was defeated in Greece; against Achilles, who had

put to death the princess Orythia, for having succoured the Trojans;

against Alexander the Great, because, not content with the favours he had

received from the queen Thalestris, he had put her kingdom under

contribution; against the Ephesians, who, for their ingratitude towards

the Amazons, who had founded their city, were themselves delivered to

other masters: and thus in the same manner against many other princes and

people.

“Illustrious women,” said Lucifer, “a sex so fragile as yours, a monarchy

so naturally given to tenderness, could not resist the force of men, nor

get away from an empire so sweet as that of love. You have wished to act

contrary to your destiny: made to submit, you have desired to command;

but women cannot reign but by submissions to the laws of love; that

renders men completely amenable to the will of woman. If men have done

you wrong, accuse your own hearts; they have done the injury of which you

complain. A warrior, proud and gallant, is full of ardour for victory

when a fair Amazon is the price of conquest; and on the other hand an

Amazon fears to vanquish a young soldier whose amiable qualities have now

disarmed her. So we re-commit to yourselves the examination of those

affairs you have brought to our tribunal: do yourselves the justice I

should do, if I examined the matter with more care, and let all women be

convinced, they have no greater enemies than their own hearts.”

Zenobia then took the stand, and said to Lucifer, that her heart had

never been master of her head: “I lost,” continued she, “my husband

Odenatus, for whom I had the purest attachment: although he left me

young, my subjects were willing to obey me. During the thirty years of

my government, I can now say, that I maintained my sway with as much

mildness as wisdom. When the thirty tyrants under Galienus divided the

empire, I took possession of a province in Syria, that had formerly been

separated, and united it to my kingdom. Aurelian declared war against

me, and having taken me captive, led me in chains behind his triumphal

car. In the endeavour to overcome the fidelity with which I preserved

the memory of my spouse, and which was my sole consolation for the loss

of my crown, he exiled me, under a specious pretext, into the Tybertine

country; but he could not vanquish my constancy. Spite and rage seized

him; he put to death Herennianus and Timolaus, my two sons, whom I had

myself brought up; I had given them an excellent education, and had

taught them the Egyptian, Greek and Latin languages; it was for their

use, that I had compiled an abridgment of the oriental history, and that

of Alexandria. What was my grief at seeing myself deprived of two

children, who would have perpetuated my name, and honoured my blood upon

the throne of Palmyra! Let no one boast to me of the liberality of this

prince towards his subjects: I am aware that he often distributed among

them clothing, corn, wine and oil: but this virtue was tarnished by his

avarice towards strangers. Could he not be contented with the boundaries

of the Roman empire, which was a world of itself, in which one could make

voyages both by land and sea? And why should I not accuse him of the

murder of my two sons, since he even put to death the son of his sister?

His cruel jealousy might well extend itself to the children of a queen

whom he had ruined. Justice, god of hell! do not suffer Zenobia to

remain under the tyranny of this haughty emperor; for even here, he

pretends to exercise it over me. Does not death reduce to an equality

monarchs and their subjects, conquerors and their slaves? A

distinguished Roman poet has said, ‘he knocks, without distinction, at

the gates of palaces and huts.’ Lucifer, hell, remorse, eternity, do me

justice for these grievous tyrannies.”

“Speak Aurelian,” said Lucifer; “what prerogative do you pretend over

this princess?”

The emperor answered in this manner: “Aurelian, emperor of the Romans,

pontifex maximus, consul, censor, augur, tribune of the people, supreme

head of Germany, Parthia, Persia, Arabia, Scythia, and Africa, to

Lucifer—”

“Lay aside these vain titles,” said Belial, who sat near Lucifer: “could

not the scurviest beggar who had traversed with his pack, for a living,

the various countries of the globe, assume as many with as much

propriety?”

“I must then be but plain Aurelian?”

“Yes, you are nothing else.”

“I will not consent to it; and I had rather be condemned than not to

affix my titles to the head of my defence.”

This emperor having declined answering, Lucifer accorded to queen Zenobia

what she had demanded.

Elizabeth, queen of England, then came forward: she complained of the

count of Essex, who slighted her affections at the time she was sought by

all the princes of Europe. Lucifer referred her to the tribunal of

Astarte, where he had sent the Amazons.

After her appeared Dido, queen of Carthage. She testified great

dissatisfaction at Virgil, who had represented her as enamoured with a

man she had never seen.—Referred to the same tribunal.

Sappho also was in court: she averred that there had never been any other

Sappho than herself, who was born in the Island of Mitylene: had given

her name to the sapphic poetry, and was the author of poems dedicated to

her friend Phaon, one of which had been translated by Ovid.

The other Sappho declared that she was the true, the only Sappho who had

existed; that she was born at Erise, in the time of the elder Tarquin,

king of Rome; that she had married Cersyla, of Andros, one of the

ancestors of the muse Clio; and that she had composed poems of different

kinds. The claims of Sappho of Mitylene were then recognized, and the

other forbidden to assume this name, or any work thereunto appertaining,

because the property of a wife belonged to her husband: and according to

the laws of all nations, her acts ought to appear in his name.

Sappho having been confirmed in her rights, accused Phaon of coldness and

ingratitude. “When,” said she, “I had given him my heart, I was no more

mistress of myself; I wished by my works to immortalize my love and his

name: hard as the rocks of Parnassus, inflexible as the fiercest dog of

Thessaly, impenetrable as the isthmus of Corinth, he disdained my flame;

my verse made no impression upon him; weary of my love, he sought but to

escape from me; insensible to my anguish, when I threw myself from the

precipice of Leucadia, he manifested no sorrow. O, rage! O, fury of

love! avenge my wrongs.”

Lucifer ordained that Sappho should present her case before the goddess

of females.

Artemisa rehearsed all she had done to eternise the memory of her spouse:

she repeated a hundred times the name of her dear Mausoleus, and demanded

that he should be again restored to her, since she had died for love of

him.

The matron of Ephesus, who stood near her, began to laugh loudly, at the

idea of a woman’s demanding her lost husband from hell.

Both of them being adjudged fools, for contrary reasons, were remanded to

their dungeons.

Lucretia, a Roman lady, succeeded them; she demanded justice against

Tarquin, who, by her violation, had been the cause of her death.

Jupiter, who wished to amuse himself, asked her if she had made any

resistance.

“Yes,” said she.

“What hindered you from stabbing Tarquin as he approached you?”

“He was the stronger party, and would have killed me.”

“Was he alone?”

“Yes.”

“Was there ever seen a man, who could, unassisted, force a woman to the

gratification of his lust? Why did you not rather suffer death, than

permit him to consummate his enterprise?”

“You are so importunate, that I must needs avow the truth: Collatinus, my

husband, discovering my intrigues with the young prince, poinarded me,

and then spread a false report, to advance the designs of Brutus and

himself. This Jupiter,” murmured she, retiring, very angry, “is an

impertinent—he will not believe that any woman could be capable of so

heroic an action as that attributed to me, and that they are all

coquettes.”

“Let all the women,” said Lucifer, “betake themselves to the tribunal

established for them.” He then gave orders for the approach of four

princes, who craved audience: the first was Darius, who impleaded

Alexander the Great: the second, Bajazet, who accused Tamerlane of

robbery: the third, Constantine Paleologus, who reproached Mahomet with

his cruelty and ambition; the fourth, Montezuma, king of Mexico, who

complained against Fernandez Cortes, and the usurpation of the Spaniards.

The three first replied, custom, and the laws of war: as to the last, he

was listened to, more from curiosity than any intention to reinstate him

in his possessions.

Montezuma spake very nearly in these words: “I was formerly the

legitimate and peaceful possessor of the Mexican states, which my fathers

had enjoyed from the universal deluge, if not before; for there are

people called _preadamites_, who maintain, that God created men in that

part of the world called _America_, who did not descend from the first

man born in Asia, and whom they called _Adam_. The avarice and temerity

of certain merchants, led them across the immense sea, which separates

America from Europe; they represented themselves as persons, who, having

been shipwrecked, had need of succour: we gave them firs, wood, and

silver; we aided them to the extent of our power. All these gifts, which

ought to have served for the establishment of an honourable commerce and

friendship, only inflamed their cupidity and avarice. We were their

friends; they made us their vassals, after having combatted us with arms,

of which we were ignorant: mounted on horses of which we were horribly

afraid, they put us to flight with the terrible noise of their cannon;

having rallied, we assembled all our troops; they prevailed by the

superiority of their arms; shutting us up in villages, they besieged,

they massacred, they took us captive, and carried all before them, with

fire and sword. Regardless of royal majesty, which I held of God, they

took my life. If it is right to usurp the goods and estate of another,

why do not subjects war against their sovereigns? Why do not families

seek the downfall of families? Why do not the wicked and strong

dominate, the one over the weak, and the other take away their goods?

Natural right, which bestows every thing that hath no owner, was it upon

the side of the king of Spain, or on mine, who had received the kingdom

of Mexico, as an inheritance from my fathers? The civil law, which

maintains possession, and which protects legitimate proprietors, was it

in favour of the king of Spain, or in mine? The reason of all ages and

countries accuse the Spaniards. We learn in childhood, that we must not

do to others, what we would not have them to do to us; Did I carry war

into Spain? Why then have they brought it to me, and that too, in a

country where they had experienced the cares of hospitality, to destroy a

prodigious number of men? What horrible ingratitude! what frightful

injustice! what atrocious cruelty! Lucifer, be the avenger of one half

the world: punish the Spaniards.”

Fernandez Cortes excused himself on the score of orders from the king,

his master: he confessed that reason, humanity, and justice, spake by the

mouth of Montezuma; but he observed, that the conquests of the Spaniards

had instructed the Indians in the knowledge of the true God.

Upon that, Montezuma cried out, that the design of the Spaniards was not

to eradicate idolatry in America, but solely to enrich Spain, at the

expense of that part of the world; that this was so true, that in Mexico,

the christian Spaniards and their slaves, did not compose more than one

hundred thousandth part of the inhabitants.

“What do you desire,” said Lucifer, “that I should do to the Spaniards?”

“I do not demand,” said the prince, “to be reinstated in my dominions;

some day, perhaps, one of my descendants, or some generous Indian, will

deliver my country from the Spanish yoke; I wish only that the Indians

who were killed in the conquest of Mexico, should have the liberty to

roast upon spits, and eat their cruel enemies; and in this manner my

nation shall be sufficiently revenged.”

“We accord to Montezuma,” said Lucifer, “the Spaniards who conquered

Mexico, with the exception of the tailors, whom we reserve for our own

table.”

After that came an abbot, who took the title of ten abbeys, besides

priories, and eighteen cures. “Behold,” said Lucifer, “an abbot, with as

many titles as a Roman emperor: speak, of whom do you complain? had you

not a sufficient income to live honourably in the world, according to

your degree? How have you employed your revenue? Play, women, good

cheer, horses, dogs, equipage, dress, and relations, have eaten it. You

demand, without doubt, justice against the authors of your ruin: I grant

it amply and promptly. For the mortification of your enemies, I

surrender you to the troop of beggars who throng the avenues of my

palace, and who would not have been damned, if, by alms which would have

cost you but little, you had removed from them the necessity of becoming

thieves and robbers: go, learn in hell to spend but little yourself.”

The minettes, the bigots, and hypocrites, demanded audience. “These are

very pleasant people,” said Lucifer to Jupiter; “they will divert us.”

“An Italian comic writer,” said one of them, “has burlesqued us, as if it

was wrong to _seem_ honest men in the public eye. When one has not the

substance of virtue, is it reprehensible to set a good example? It is

true, that if our lives, hidden under this cloak, had been exposed, our

hypocrisy and spurious piety would have been easily detected; but we

injured no person, and if any one was scandalized by our example, it was

for conscience sake.”

The Italian writer, who happened to be present, and whom I had not before

perceived, cried out, “satyrists of France and Italy, our cause is

common.”

Immediately there appeared a number of comic writers, ranged under their

respective masters, among whom I saw, with pleasure, Juvenal, Terence,

Plautus, Seneca the tragedian, and Greek, Latin, and French authors,

ancient and modern. The writer, behind whom they were ranged, decried

the manners of his age, and exposed the wickedness of hypocrites, who,

abusing all that is sacred in religion, to deceive men, dupe the simple,

and gain an unmerited reputation. Who would believe that a man was

wicked enough to wish to deceive, at the same time, both God and man?

This is what hypocrites do, when under the veil of divine love, and with

an air of humility, more haughty than vanity itself, they conceal sensual

affections, hatred of brethren, and a licentious life, unknown but to

those who participate in it.—A woman wishes to hide from her husband an

amorous intrigue; she is at her devotions in the morning, and in the

evening still goes to a lecture, where she knows she shall see her

friend. Often the church itself is the theatre of a love scene—the

preacher, a fine young man, whose manners are more fascinating than his

discourse. Frequently some broad-shouldered fellow sets at nought truth,

chastity, continence, the money of husbands, and so forth. Affairs of

business are conducted on the same principle, as those of love. “Who

would believe that this devout man was a usurer: that he had possession,

almost for nothing, of the meadow, the vineyard, and the house of a

peasant! Oh, this is a holy man! he is full of conscience; every day

constantly at church, his piety is exemplary. Behold the fate of a

hypocrite: this knavery, is it any thing but a dead loss? for of what

service is it to bigots to live in such uneasy constraint, if that does

not procure them pleasure, property, or the gratification of their

vanity?

“And I,” said a woman, “can I be accused of hypocrisy? My virtue, my

science, my writings, do they not demonstrate the unfeignedness of my

devotion? Should I be spoken of in any other way than as Saint Therese?

Have I not had, in that character, apparitions, visions, a spirit of

prophecy, and a discernment into the heart and conscience?”

“Contemplate, sirs,” said the satirist, “the people of the spirit, if

such a thing is not above your comprehension. What is this but to

deceive the world by spiritual artifices? What is this incomprehensible

new grace? What devotee but has possessed it; and what mystick but has

held the same language? Truly, madam, grace is very much obliged to you,

and fanaticism owes you thanks; visionaries and lunaticks have gained

their causes; the ancient heretics and comforters owe you a statue and a

chapel.”

Another woman said, “I have not had visions; but I have experienced

realities: I have seen what I thought I saw; and if I had any devotion it

was for my directors. I had one whom I looked upon as my guardian angel;

I had for him an extreme friendship; I made him presents and he never

failed in any thing towards me; I saw him every day, and should have

preferred deceiving my father rather than him. Was he sick, I suffered

also; and to solace him, sent meats, confections, fruits, and even money.

I was so chagrined at his absence that I could not bear my own house; I

became unquiet, impatient and melancholy; every thing vexed me. His

superiors having ordered his change, I almost expired with grief; I wrote

to him by every mail; if I received not his letters, I felt new sorrow: a

thousand phantoms presented themselves to my imagination. I fancied him

as bestowing his pains upon another object, and thought that absence and

change of residence had altered his inclination. He returned: what

rapture! I ran to his house, although in dishabille: on the morrow I was

at his feet; each day of the week I go to recount to him my pleasures and

pains. In the mean time an honest man sought me in marriage; I consulted

my director; he charged me to dismiss this man, who accordingly received

his farewell. Another brave cavalier offered himself and received the

same answer. Behold me now in my thirty-fifth year; my director exhorted

me to consecrate to God my virginity: I retired to a monastery, but he

was not willing that I should take the veil. At length he died; I wept,

I regretted him; I observed a nine days’ devotion for his death. When my

grief was assuaged, I reflected upon my age: the time of youth was past;

I took the veil, contracted some amiable acquaintances, founded funeral

obsequies for the repose of my soul, bequeathed my estate to the convent,

and died. This is my history; this is true devotion.”

“And I,” said another menette, “had no such object to fix my imagination;

I wore invariably a modest dress, my veil always drawn over my eyes, and

sleeves to my very hands: I rose early in the morning to go to church,

and was constantly seen at all devotional exercises; for me there was

neither parties, assemblies, nor feasts: I did not attach myself to my

confessor, although often at his grate. In the mean time, I had some

good friends, who went about preaching my virtue far and wide, and

principally to those rich men whom they knew not to be fond of gallantry,

and yet exceedingly fearful of what generally happens to men of their

years after marriage. Your affair is finished, say they to the marrying

men; I have discovered a girl of superlative virtue, who knows not a

single man in the world, and who is so unsophisticated with respect to

love matters, that she does not even know the name of masculine garments;

always engaged in her domestic duties; without luxury, without vanity,

rich withal, and beloved of her father. ‘This is a girl that will

exactly suit me,’ said an opulent citizen with sixty years and the gout;

‘I shall have a nurse for the remainder of my life; I will make her fine

presents, and after my death she shall have the enjoyment of my estate.’

In fine, they consulted me with regard to this man; I demanded time to

determine; something unlucky might happen to my virtue; I asked light

from above; heaven appeared favourable to this union. See me then

espoused; I play the innocent, the ingenuous: my husband, deceived,

felicitates himself in my simplicity: all this time I secretly received

the attentions of a handsome young man; the more I saw him, the stronger

appeared my conjugal attachment. Behold my history, and discreet

devotion.”

I saw still other menettes of different characters, who exposed the

motives of their hypocrisy, and confessed that they had no other

religion. These are liars, for truly religious souls shun ostentation:

true devotion is so considerate, that those who possess it endeavour to

conceal it, to avoid being elevated in the opinion of the world.

Christian humility flies the eulogies of men: their praise seems a

dangerous enemy, which, in flattering, withdraws the heart from the right

way; it refuses the recompense due to merit, and contents itself with

affording that good example, which the honour of virtue and religion

demand; all which, Jupiter, in a homily to the fanatics, set forth at

large. The following is the decree that was then read and published

before this great audience, in presence of the demons and the damned.