Pluto up to earth, where he married an earthly wife, but finally left
her in disgust to go back to hell, is also of mediaeval origin. It was
first printed by Giovanni Brevio in 1545, and appeared for the second
time with the name of Machiavelli in 1549, twenty-two years after the
death of the diabolical statesman. The two authors did not borrow from
each other, but had a common source in a mediaeval Latin manuscript,
which seems to have first fallen into the hands of Italians, but was
later brought to France where it has been lost. The tale of the
marriage of the devil appeared in several other Italian versions
during the sixteenth century. Among the Italian novelists, who retold
it for the benefit of their married friends, may be mentioned
Giovan-Francesco Straparola, Francesco Sansovino, and Gabriel
Chappuys. In England this story was no less popular. Barnabe Riche
inserted it in his collection of narratives in 1581, and we meet it
again later in the following plays: _Grim, the Collier of Croydon_,
ascribed to Ulpian Fulwell (1599); _The Devil and his Dame_ by P. M.
Houghton (1600); _Machiavel and the Devil_ by Daborne and Henslowe
(1613); _The Devil is an Ass_ by Ben Jonson (1616); and _Belphagor, or
the Marriage of the Devil_ (1690). In France the story was treated in
verse by La Fontaine (1694), and in Germany it served the Nuremberg
poet Hans Sachs as the subject for a farce (1557).
The _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ is authority for the statement that
Machiavelli's own married life had nothing to do with the plot of his
story.
"The notion of this story is ingenious, and might have been made
productive of entertaining incident, had Belphagor been led by his
connubial connections from one crime to another. But Belphagor is only
unfortunate, and in no respect guilty; nor did anything occur during
his abode on earth that testified to the power of woman in leading us
to final condemnation. The story of the peasant and the possession of
the princesses bears no reference to the original idea with which the
tale commences, and has no connection with the object of the infernal
deputy's terrestrial sojourn" (J. C. Dunlop, _History of Fiction_). To
this criticism Mr. Thomas Roscoe replies that "part of the humour of
the story seems to consist in Belphagor's earthly career being cut
short before he had served the full term of his apprenticeship. But
from the follies and extravagances into which he had already plunged,
we are now authorized to believe that, even if he had been able longer
to support the asperities of the lady's temper, he must, from the
course he was pursuing, have been led from crime to crime, or at least
from folly to folly, to such a degree that he would infallibly have
been condemned" (T. Roscoe, _Italian Novelists_).
The demon of Machiavelli offers no features of a deep psychology, but
he distinguishes himself from the other demons of his period by his
elegant manners. Like creator, like creature.
Belphagor, the god of the Moabites, like all other pagan gods, joined
the infernal forces of Satan when driven off the earth by the Church
Triumphant.
The parliament of devils, which we find in this story, was taken from
the mystery-plays where the ruler of hell is represented as holding
occasional receptions when he listens to the reports of their recent
achievements on his behalf, and consults their opinion on matters of
state. Satan, who has always wished to rival God, has instituted the
infernal council in imitation of the celestial council described in
the Book of Job. The source for the parliament of devils is the
apocryphal book _Evangelium Nicodemi_. An early metrical tract under
the title of the _Parlement of Devils_ was printed two or three times
in London about 1520. A "Pandemonium" is also found in Tasso, Milton,
and Chateaubriand. The _Parlement of Foules_ (14th century) is but a
modification of the _Parlement of Devils_, for the devil and the fool
were originally identical in person and may be traced back to the
demonic clown of the ancient heathen cult (cf. the present writer's
book, _The Origin of the German Carnival Comedy_, p. 37). A far echo
is Thomas Chatterton's poem _The Parliament of Sprites_.
This story recalls to us the saying that the heart of a beautiful
woman is the most beloved hiding-place of at least seven devils.
THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER
BY WASHINGTON IRVING
By his interest in popular legends the first of the great American
writers shows his sympathy with the Romantic movement, which prevailed
in his time in all the countries of Europe. His devil, however, has
not been imported from the lands across the Atlantic, but is a part of
the superstitions of the New World. The author himself did not believe
in "Old Scratch." The real devils for him were the slave-traders and
the witch-hunters of Salem fame. It is interesting now to read a
contemporary critic of Washington Irving's devil-story: "If Mr. Irving
believes in the existence of Tom Walker's master, we can scarcely
conceive how he can so earnestly jest about him; at all events, we
would counsel him to beware lest his own spells should prove fatal to
him" (_Eclectic Review_, 1825). Few people in those days had the
courage to take Old Nick good-naturedly. "Even the clever Madame de
Staël," said Goethe, "was greatly scandalized that I kept the devil in
such good-humour."
The devil appears in many colours, principally, however, in black and
red. It is a common belief in Scotland that the devil is a black man,
as may also be seen in Robert Louis Stevenson's story "Thrawn Janet."
There is no warrant in the biblical tradition for a black devil.
Satan, however, appeared as an Ethiopian as far back as the days of
the Church Fathers. The black colour presumably is intended to suggest
his place of abode, whereas red denotes the scorching fires of hell.
The devil was considered as a sort of eternal Salamander. In the New
Testament he is described as a fiery fiend. Red was considered by
Oriental nations as a diabolical colour. In Egypt red hair and red
animals of all kinds were considered infernal. The Apis was also
red-coloured. Satan's red beard recalls the Scandinavian god Donar or
Thor, who is of Phoenician origin. Judas was always represented in
mediaeval mystery-plays with a red beard; and down to the present day
red hair is the mark of a suspicious character. The devil also appears
as yellow, and even blue, but never as white or green. The yellow
devil is but a shade less bright than his fiery brother. The blue
devil is a sulphur-constitutioned individual. He is the demon of
melancholy, and fills us with "the blues." As the spirit of darkness
and death, the devil cannot assume the colours of white or green,
which are the symbols of light and life. The devil's dragon-tail is,
according to Sir Walter Scott, of biblical tradition, coming from a
literal interpretation of a figurative expression.
A few interesting remarks on the expression "The Devil and Tom Walker"
current in certain parts of this country as a caution to usurers will
be found in Dr. Blondheim's article "The Devil and Doctor Foster" in
_Modern Language Notes_ for 1918.
FROM THE MEMOIRS OF SATAN
BY WILHELM HAUFF
Wilhelm Hauff, the author of this book, ranks honourably among the
members of the Romantic School in Germany. As the work of a man of
only twenty-two years, just out of the university, the book is a
credit to its author. It must be admitted, however, that it was not
altogether original with him. The idea was taken from E. Th. A.
Hoffmann,--Devil-Hoffmann, as he was called by his contemporaries,--who
in his short-story "Der Teufel in Berlin" also has the devil travel
incognito in Germany; and the title was borrowed from Jean Paul
Richter, who also claimed to edit _Selections from the Devil's Papers_
(_Auswahl aus des Teufels Papieren, 1789_). There were others, too,
who claimed to have been honoured by his Satanic Majesty to edit his
"journal." J. R. Beard, a Unitarian minister, published in 1872 an
_Autobiography of Satan_. Another autobiography of Satan is said to
have been found among the posthumous works of Leonid Andréev, author
of that original diabolical work _Anathema, a tragedy_ (Engl. tr.
1910). This book has just appeared in English under the title _Satan's
Diary_. Frédéric Soulié's _Les Mémoires du Diable_ (1837/8) consist of
memoirs not of the devil himself, but of other people, which the Count
de Luizzi, the human partner to the diabolical pact, is very anxious
to know. Hauff's book consists of a series of papers, which are but
loosely connected. In certain passages we hear nothing of the
autobiographer. The Suavian writer apparently could digest the
Diabolical only in homeopathic doses. His Satan, moreover, is a very
youthful and quite harmless devil. He is nothing but a personified
echo of the author's student-days. The book by Hauff is perhaps the
most popular personification of the devil in German literature.
The passage presented here shows the phantastic element of the book at
its best. The short introductory synopsis will give an idea of its
satirical aspect. The humorous aspect has pretty nearly been lost in
translation. Professor Brander Matthews has aptly said: "The German
humour is like the simple Italian wines--it will not stand export."
Of all the peoples, the Germans seem to have had the most kindly
feelings towards the devil. This is because they knew him better. To
judge from the many bridges and cathedrals, which the demon, according
to legends, has built in Germany, he must have been a frequent visitor
to that country. In Frankfort, where with his own hands our author
received the memoirs from the autobiographer, there is a gilded cock
above the bridge in memory of the bargain the bridge-builder once made
with Satan to give him the first living thing that should cross the
river. The day the bridge was finished, a cock fluttered from a
woman's market-basket and ran over the bridge. A claw-like hand
reached down and claimed the prize.
The distinguished personage, whose adventures form the subject of this
book, does not figure in it under his own name, nor does he appear
here in the gala attire of tail, horns and cloven foot with which he
graces the revels on the Blocksberg. He borrows for the nonce a tall,
gentlemanly figure, surmounted by delicate features, dresses well, is
fastidious about his ring and linen, travels post and stops at the
best hotels. He begins his earthly career by studying at the renowned
university of ----. As he can boast of abundant means, a handsome
wardrobe and the name of Herr von Barbe, it is no wonder that on the
first evening he should be politely received, the next morning have a
confidential friend, and the second evening embrace "brothers till
death." He becomes much puzzled at the extraordinary manners of the
students, and at their language, so different from that of every
rational German. He remarks: "Over a glass of beer they often fell
into singularly transcendental investigations, of which I understood
little or nothing. However, I observed the principal words, and when
drawn into a conversation, replied with a grave air--'Freedom,
Fatherland, Nationality.'" He attends the lectures of a celebrated
professor, whose profundity of thought and terseness of style are so
astounding, that the German world set him down as possessed; the
critical student, however, differs somewhat from that conclusion,
observing--
"I have borne a great deal in the world. I have even entered into
swine," ("The devil," said Luther, "knows Scripture well and he uses
it in argument") "but into such a philosopher? No, indeed! I had
rather be excused."
The episode here reprinted occurred in a hotel in Frankfort, where our
incognito is known as Herr von Natas (which, it will be noticed, is
his more familiar name read backwards). His brilliant powers of
conversation, his adroit flattery, courteous gallantry, and elegant,
though wayward flights of imagination, soon rendered him the delight
of the whole _table d'hôte_. All guests, including our author, were
fascinated by the mysterious stranger. But we will let the author
himself tell his story.
ST. JOHN'S EVE
BY NIKOLÁI VASILÉVICH GÓGOL
This story, taken from _Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka_, a series of
sketches of the life of the Ukrainian peasants, offers a good
illustration of the author's art, which was a combination of the
romantic and realistic elements. In these pages Gógol wished to record
the myths and legends still current among the plain folk of his
beloved Ukrainia. The devil naturally enough peeps out here and there
through the pages of this book. Gógol's devil is a product of the
Russian soil, "the spirit of mischief and cunning, whom Russian
literature is always trying to outplay and overcome" (Mme. Jarintzow,
_Russian Poets and Poems_).
According to European superstition St. John's Eve is the only evening
in the year when his Satanic Majesty reveals himself in his proper
shape to the eyes of men. If you wish to behold his Highness face to
face, stand on St. John's Eve at midnight near a mustard-plant. It is
suggested by Sir James Frazer in his _Golden Bough_ that, in the
chilly air of the upper world, this prince from a warmer clime may be
attracted by the warmth of the mustard.
It is believed in many parts of Europe that treasures can be found on
St. John's Eve by means of the fern-seed. Even without the use of this
plant treasures are sometimes said to bloom or burn in the earth, or
to reveal their presence by a bluish flame on Midsummer Eve. As
guardian of treasures the devil is the successor of the gnome.
THE DEVIL'S WAGER
BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY
_The Devil's Wager_ is Thackeray's earliest attempt at story-writing,
was contributed to a weekly literary paper with the imposing title
_The National Standard, and Journal of Literature, Science, Music,
Theatricals, and the Fine Arts_, of which he was proprietor and
editor, and was reprinted in the _Paris Sketch Book_ (1840). The story
first ended with the very Thackerayesque touch: "The moral of this
story will be given in several successive numbers." In the _Paris
Sketch Book_ the last three words are changed into "the second
edition." This comical tale was illustrated by an excellent wood-cut,
representing the devil as sailing through the air, dragging after him
the fat Sir Roger de Rollo by means of his tail, which is wound round
Sir Roger's neck.
In the "Advertisement to the First Edition" of his _Paris Sketch
Book_, Thackeray admits the French origin of this as well as of his
other devil-story, _The Painter's Bargain_, to be found in the same
volume. It was Thackeray's good fortune to live in Paris during the
wildest and most brilliant years of Romanticism; and while his
attitude towards this movement and its leaders, as presented in the
_Paris Sketch Book_, is not wholly sympathetic, he is indebted to it
for his interest in supernatural subjects. The Romanticism of
Thackeray has been denied with great obstinacy and almost passion, for
like Heinrich Heine, the chief of German Romantic ironists, he poked
fun at this movement. But "to laugh at what you love," as Mr. George
Saintsbury has pointed out in his _History of the French Novel_, "is
not only permissible, but a sign of the love itself."
Mercurius makes a pun on the familiar quotation "rara avis" from
Horace (_Sat._ 2, 2. 26), where it means a rare bird. This expression
is commonly applied to a singular person. It is also found in the
_Satires_ of Juvenal (VI, 165).
THE PAINTER'S BARGAIN
BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY
The belief in compacts with the devil is of great antiquity. Satan,
contending with God for the possession of the human race, was supposed
to have developed a passion for catching souls. At the death of every
man a real fight takes place over his soul between an angel, who
wishes to lead it to heaven, and a devil, who attempts to drag it to
hell (Jude 9). In order to assure the soul for himself in advance,
Satan attempts to purchase it from the owner while he is still
living--_vivente corpore_, as he tells the _restaurateur_ in Poe's
story. As prince of this world he can easily grant even the most
extravagant wishes of man in exchange for his soul. Office, wealth and
pleasure are mainly the objects for which a man enters into a pact
with the Evil One. Count de Luizzi in Frédéric Soulié's _Les Mémoires
du Diable_ sells his soul to the devil for an uncommon consideration.
It is not wealth or pleasure that tempts him. What he wants in
exchange for his soul is to know the past lives of his fellowmen and
women, "a thing," as Mr. Saintsbury well remarks, "which a person of
sense and taste would do anything, short of selling himself to the
devil, _not_ to know." The devil fulfils every wish of his contractor
for a stipulated period of time, at the expiration of which the soul
becomes his. Pope Innocent VIII, in his fatal bull "Summis
desiderantes" of the year 1484, officially recognized the possibility
of a compact with the devil. Increase Mather, the New England
preacher, also affirms that many men have made "cursed covenants with
the prince of darkness."
St. Theophilus, of Cilicia, in the sixth century, was the first to
make the notable discovery that a man could enter into a pact of this
nature. The price he set for his soul was a bishopric. This story has
been superseded during the Renaissance period by a similar legend
concerning the German Dr. Faustus. Other famous personages reputed to
have sold their souls to the devil for one consideration or another
are Don Juan in Spain, Twardowski in Poland, Merlin in England, and
Robert le Diable in France. Socrates, Apuleius, Scaliger and
Cagliostro are also said to have entered into compacts with him.
In devil-contracts the Evil One insists that his human negotiator sign
the deed with his own blood, while the man never requires the devil to
sign it even in ink. The human party to the transaction has always had
full confidence in the word of the fiend. There is a universal belief
that the devil invariably fulfils his engagement. In no single
instance of folk-lore has Satan tried to evade the fulfilment of his
share in the agreement. But the man, in violation of the written pact,
has often cheated the devil out of his legal due by technical
quibbles. "It is peculiar to the German tradition," says Gustav
Freytag, "that the devil endeavours to fulfil zealously and honestly
his part of the contract; the deceiver is man." In regard to fidelity
to his word, the father of lies has always set an example to his
victims. "You men," said Satan, "are cheats; you make all sorts of
promises so long as you need me, and leave me in the lurch as soon as
you have got what you wanted." Mediaeval man had no scruples about his
breach of contract with the devil. He always considered the legal
document signed with his own blood as "a scrap of paper." "But still
the pact is with the enemy; the man is not bound beyond the letter,
and may escape by any trick. It is still the ethics of war. We are
very close to the principle that a man by stratagem or narrow
observance of the letter may escape the eternal retribution which God
decrees conditionally and the devil delights in" (H. D. Taylor,
_Mediaeval Mind_). We now can understand why in Eugene Field's story
"Daniel and the Devil" it seems to Satan so strange that he should be
asked for a written guarantee that he too would fulfil his part of the
contract. Apparently this was the first time that the devil had any
transactions with an American business man, who has not even faith in
Old Nick.
Reference is made in this story by the devil himself to the popular
saying that the devil is not so black as he is painted. Even the
devout George Herbert wrote--
"We paint the devil black, yet he
Hath some good in him all agree."
This story recalls to us the proverb: "Talk of the devil, and he will
either come or send."
Washington Irving, as we have seen, thinks that he is not always very
obliging.
Satan, the father of lies, is said to be the patron of lawyers. The
men of the London bar formed a "Temple" corps, which was dubbed "The
Devil's Own." The tavern of the lawyers on Fleet Street in London was
called "The Devil."
BON-BON
BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
This writer, to whom the inner world was more of a reality than the
external world, had many visions, especially of the devil. The two
seem to have been on a familiar footing. The devil, we must admit,
filled Poe's imagination even if we will not go so far as to agree
with his critics that he had Satan substituted for soul. His
contemporaries, as is well known, would say of him: "He hath a demon,
yea, seven devils are entered into him." His detractors actually
regarded this unhappy poet as an incarnation of the ruler of Hades
(cf. _North American Review_, 1856; _Edinburgh Review_, 1858; _Dublin
University Magazine_, 1875). It was but recently that a writer in the
_New York Times_ declared Poe to have been "grub-staked by demons."
The story "Bon-Bon" offers a specimen of Poe's grimly grotesque
humour. It first appeared in the _Broadway Journal_ of August, 1835.
The devil of this most un-American of all American authors is not the
child of New World fancy, but part of European imagination. The
scenery of the story is aptly laid in the land of Robert le Diable.
Poe's description of the devil is, on the whole, fully in accord with
the universally accredited conception of his ordinary appearance. His
brutal hoofs and savage horns and beastly tail are all there, only
discreetly hid under a dress which any gentleman might wear. The devil
is very proud of this epithet given him by William Shakespeare; and
from that time on, it has been his greatest ambition to be a
gentleman, in outer appearance at least; and to his credit it must be
said that he has so well succeeded in his efforts to resemble a
gentleman that it is now very hard to tell the two apart. The devil is
accredited in popular imagination with long ears, a long (sometimes
upturned) nose, a wide mouth, and teeth of a lion. It is on account of
his fangs that Satan has been called a lion by the biblical writers.
But although the prince of darkness can assume any form in the heavens
above, in the earth beneath, and in the waters under the earth, he has
never appeared as a lion. This, I believe, is out of deference to
Judah, whom his father also called a lion. Hairiness is a pretty
general characteristic of the devil. His hairy skin he probably
inherited from the ancient fauns and satyrs. Esau is believed to have
been a hairy demon. "Old Harry" is a corruption of "Old Hairy." As a
rule, Old Nick is not pictured as bald, but has a head covered with
locks like serpents. These snaky tresses, which already "Monk" Lewis
wound around the devil's head, are borrowed, according to Sir Walter
Scott, from the shield of Minerva. His face, however, is usually
hairless. A beard has rarely been accorded to Satan. His red beard on
the mediaeval stage probably came from Donar, whom, as Jacob Grimm
says, the modern notions of the devil so often have in the background.
Long bearded devils are nowhere normal except in the representations
of the Eastern Church of the monarch of hell as counterpart of the
monarch of heaven. The eyeless devil is original with our writer. His
disciple Baudelaire in his story _Les Tentations ou Eros, Plutus et la
Gloire_ presents the second of these three Tempters as an eyeless
monster. The mediaeval devil had saucer eyes. According to a Russian
legend, the all-seeing spirit of evil is all covered with eyes. The
cadaverous aspect of the devil is traditional. With but one remarkable
exception (the Egyptian Typhon), demons are always represented lean.
"A devil," said Caesarius of Heisterbach of the thirteenth century,
"is usually so thin as to cast no shadow" (_Dialogus Miraculorum_,
iii). This characteristic is a heritage of the ancient hunger-demon,
who, himself a shadow, casts no shadow. In the course of the
centuries, however, the devil has gained flesh. His faded suit of
black cloth recalls the mediaeval devil who appeared "in his fethers
all ragged and rent."