Part 8

“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?”