The History of the Devil Part 6

And therefore a certain author, whose name, _for fear of the s.e.x's resentment_ I conceal, brings her in, calling to _Adam_ at a great distance, in an imperious haughty manner, beckoning to him with her hand, thus; _Here_, says she, _you cowardly faint-hearted wretch, take this branch of heavenly fruit, eat and be a stupid fool no longer; eat and be wise; eat and be a G.o.d; and know, to your eternal shame, that your wife has been made an enlightn'd G.o.ddess before you_.

He tells you _Adam_ hung back a little at first, and trembl'd, _afraid to trespa.s.s_: _What ails the_ SOT, says the new Termagant? _what are you afraid of? did G.o.d forbid you! yes, and why? that we might not be knowing and wise like himself! What reason can there be that we, who have capacious souls, able to receive knowledge, should have it withheld? take it, you Fool, and eat; don't you see how I am exalted in soul by it, and am quite another Creature? Take it_, I say, _or, if you don't, I'll go and cut down the Tree, and you shall never eat any of it at all, and you shall be still a fool, and be governed by your wife for ever_.

Thus, if this interpretation of the thing be just, she Scolded him into it; Rated him, and brought him to it by the terror of her voice; a thing that has retained a dreadful influence over him ever since; nor have the greatest of _Adam_'s Successors, how light soever some husbands make of it in this age, been ever able, since that, to conceal their terror, at the very Sound; nay, if we may believe history, it prevailed even among the G.o.ds; not all the noise of _Vulcan_'s hammers could silence the clamours of that outrageous wh.o.r.e his G.o.ddess; nay, even _Jupiter_ himself led such a life with a termagant wife, that once, they say, _Juno_ out-scolded the noise of all his Thunders, and was within an ace of brawling him out of Heaven. But to return to the Devil.

With these views he resolv'd, it seems, to attack the woman; and if you consider him as a Devil, and what he aim'd at, and consider the fair prospect he had of success, I must confess, I do not see who can blame him, or at least, how any thing less could be expected from him; But we shall meet with it again by and by.

CHAP. V.

_Of the station Satan had in Heaven before he fell; the nature and original of his crime, and some of Mr._ Milton_'s mistakes about it._

Thus far I have gone upon general observation, in this great affair of _Satan_ and his Empire in the World; I now come to _my t.i.tle_, and shall enter upon the historical part, as the main work before me.

Besides what has been said Poetically, relating to the fall and wandering condition of the _Devil_ and his Host, which poetical part I offer only as an excursion, and desire it should be taken so; I shall give you what I think is deduc'd from good originals on the part of _Satan_'s story in a few words.

He was one of the created Angels, form'd by the same omnipotent hand and glorious power, who created the Heavens and the Earth, and all that is therein: This innumerable heavenly host, as we have reason to believe, contain'd Angels of higher and lower stations, of greater and of lesser degree, express'd in the Scripture by _Thrones_, _Dominions_, and _Princ.i.p.alities_: This, I think, we have as much reason to believe, as we have, that there are Stars in the Firmament (or starry Heavens) of greater and of lesser magnitude.

What particular station among the immortal Choir of Angels, this Arch-seraph, this Prince of _Devils_, call'd _Satan_, was plac'd in before his expulsion, that indeed, we cannot come at the knowledge of, at least, not with such an Authority as may be depended upon; but as from Scripture authority, he is plac'd at the head of all the Apostate armies, after he was fallen, we cannot think it in the least a.s.suming to say, that he might be supposed to be one of the princ.i.p.al Agents in the _Rebellion_ which happen'd in Heaven, and consequently that he might be one of the highest in dignity there, before that Rebellion.

The higher his station, the lower, and with the greater precipitation, was his overthrow; and therefore, those words, tho' taken in another sense, may very well be apply'd to him: _How art thou fallen_, O Lucifer! _Son of the Morning!_

Having granted the dignity of his Person, and the high station in which he was placed among the heavenly Host; it would come then necessarily to inquire into the nature of his fall, and _above all_, a little into the reason of it; certain it is, _he did fall_, was guilty of Rebellion and Disobedience, the just effect of Pride; sins, which, in that holy place, might well be call'd wonderful.

But what to me is more wonderful, and which, I think, will be very ill accounted for, is, how came seeds of crime to rise in the Angelic Nature? created in a state of perfect, unspotted holiness? how was it first found in a place where no unclean thing can enter? how came ambition, pride, or envy to generate there? could there be offence where there was no crime? could untainted purity breed corruption? could that nature contaminate and infect, which was always Drinking in principles of perfection?

Happy 'tis to me, _that_ writing the History, _not_ solving the Difficulties of _Satan_'s Affairs, is my province in this Work; that I am to relate the Fact, not give reasons for it, or sign causes; if it was otherwise, I should break off at this difficulty, for I acknowledge I do not see thro' it; neither do I think that the great _Milton_, after all his fine Images and lofty Excursions upon the Subject, has left it one jot clearer than he found it: Some are of opinion, and among them the great Dr. _B----s_, that crime broke in upon them at some interval, when they omitted but one moment fixing their eyes and thoughts on the glories of the divine face, to admire and adore, which is the full employment of Angels; but even this, tho' it goes as high as imagination can carry us, does not reach it, nor, to me, make it one jot more comprehensible than it was before; all I can say to it here, is, that _so it was_, the fact was upon Record, and the rejected Troop are in being, whose circ.u.mstances confess the Guilt, and still groan under the Punishment.

If you will bear with a poetic excursion upon the subject, not to solve but to ill.u.s.trate the difficulty; take it in a few lines, thus,

Thou sin of Witchcraft! firstborn child of Crime!

Produc'd before the bloom of Time; Ambition's maiden Sin, in Heaven conceiv'd, And who could have believ'd Defilement could in purity begin, And bright eternal Day be soil'd with Sin?

Tell us, sly penetrating Crime, How cam'st thou there, thou fault sublime?

How didst thou pa.s.s the Adamantine Gate; And into Spirit thy self insinuate?

From what dark state? from what deep place?

From what strange uncreated race?

Where was thy ancient habitation found Before void Chaos heard the forming sound?

Wast thou a Substance, or an airy Ghost, A Vapour flying in the fluid waste Of unconcocted air?

And how at first didst thou come there?

Sure there was once a time when thou wert not, By whom wast thou created? and for what?

Art thou a steam from some contagious damp exhal'd?

How should contagion be intail'd, On bright seraphic Spirits, and in a place Where all's supreme, and Glory fills the s.p.a.ce?

No noxious vapour there could rise, For there no noxious matter lies; Nothing that's evil could appear, Sin never could Seraphic Glory bear; The brightness of the eternal Face, Which fills as well as const.i.tutes the place, Would be a fire too hot for crime to bear, 'Twould calcine Sin, or melt it into air.

How then did first defilement enter in?

Ambition, thou first vital seed of Sin!

Thou Life of Death, how cam'st thou there?

In what bright form didst thou appear?

In what Seraphic Orb didst thou arise?

Surely that place admits of no disguise, Eternal Sight must know thee there, And being known, thou soon must disappear.

But since the fatal Truth we know, Without the matter whence or manner how: Thou high superlative of Sin, Tell us thy nature, where thou didst begin?

The first degree of thy increase, Debauch'd the Regions of eternal Peace, And fill'd the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of loyal Angels there With the first Treason and infernal War.

Thou art the high extreme of pride, And dost o'er lesser crimes preside; Not for the mean attempt of Vice design'd, But to embroil the World, and d.a.m.n Mankind.

Transforming mischief, now hast thou procur'd That loss that ne'er to be restor'd, And made the bright Seraphic Morning-star In horrid monstrous shapes appear?

_Satan_, that while he dwelt in glorious light, Was always then as pure as he was bright, That in effulgent rays of glory shone, Excell'd by eternal Light, by him alone, Distorted now, and stript of Innocence, And banish'd with thee from the high Pre-eminence, How has the splendid Seraph chang'd his face, Transform'd by thee, and like thy monstrous race?

Ugly as is the crime, for which he fell, } Fitted by thee to make a local h.e.l.l, } For such must be the place where either of you dwell. }

Thus, as I told you, I only moralize upon the subject, but as to the difficulty, I must leave it as I find it, unless, _as I hinted at first_, I could prevail with Satan to set pen to paper, and write this part of his own History: No question, but he could let us into the secret; but to be plain, I doubt I shall tell so many plain truths of the _Devil_, in this History, and discover so many of his secrets, which it is not for his interest to have discover'd, that before I have done, the _Devil_ and I may not be so good friends as you may suppose we are; at least, not friends enough to obtain such a favour of him, tho' it be for public good; so we must be content till we come ont' other side the _Blue-Blanket_, and then we shall know the whole Story.

But now, tho' as I said, I will not attempt to solve the difficulty, I may, I hope, venture to tell you, that there is not so much difficulty in it, as at first sight appears: and especially not so much as some people would make us believe; let us see how others are mistaken in it, perhaps, that may help us a little in the enquiry; for to know _what it is not_, is one help towards knowing _what it is_.

Mr. _Milton_ has indeed told us a great many merry things of the Devil, in a most formal, solemn manner; till in short he has made a good PLAY of _Heaven_ and _h.e.l.l_; and no doubt if he had liv'd in our times, he might have had it acted with our _Pluto_ and _Proserpine_. He has made fine Speeches both for _G.o.d_ and the _Devil_, and a little addition might have turn'd it _a la modern_ into a _Harlequin Dieu & Diable_.

I confess I don't well know how far the dominion of Poetry extends itself; it seems the Buts and Bounds of _Parna.s.sus_ are not yet ascertain'd; so that for ought I know, by vertue of their antient privileges call'd _Licentia Poetarum_, there can be no _Blasphemy_ in _Verse_; as some of our Divines say there can be no _Treason_ in the _Pulpit_. But they that will venture to write that way, ought to be better satisfy'd about that Point than I am.

Upon this foot Mr. _Milton_, to grace his Poem, and give room for his Towring Fancy, has gone a length beyond all that ever went before him, since _Ovid_ in his _Metamorphosis_. He has indeed complimented G.o.d _Almighty_ with a flux of lofty words, and great sounds; and has made a very fine Story of the _Devil_, but he has made a meer _je ne scay Quoi_ of _Jesus Christ_. In one line he has him riding on a _Cherub_, and in another sitting on a Throne, both in the very same moment of action. In another place he has brought him in making a Speech to his _Saints_, when 'tis evident he had none there; for we all know _Man was not created till a long while after_; and no body can be so dull as to say the _Angels_ may be called _Saints_, without the greatest absurdity in nature. Besides, he makes CHRIST himself distinguish them, as in two several Bands, and of differing Persons and Species, as to be sure they are.

Stand still in bright array, _ye Saints_------ ---- ------ -------- -------- Here stand, _Ye Angels_. ------

_Par. Lost. lib._ vi. _fo._ 174.

So that CHRIST here is brought in drawing up his Army before the last Battle, and making a Speech to them, to tell them they shall only stand by in warlike order, but that they shall have no occasion to fight, for he alone will engage the Rebels. Then in embattling his Legions, he places the Saints here, and the Angels there, as if one were the main Battle of Infantry, and the other the Wings of Cavalry. But who are those Saints? they are indeed all of _Milton_'s own making; 'tis certain there were no Saints at all in _Heaven_ or _Earth_ at that time; G.o.d and his _Angels_ fill'd up the place; and till some of the _Angels_ fell, and Men were created, had liv'd, and were dead, there could have been no _Saints_ there. Saint _Abel_ was certainly the _Proto-Saint_ of all that ever were seen in _Heaven_, as well as the Proto-martyr of all that have been upon _Earth_.

Just such another Mistake, not to call it a Blunder, he makes about _h.e.l.l_; which he not only makes LOCAL, but gives it a being before the Fall of the _Angels_; and brings it in opening its mouth to receive them. This is so contrary to the nature of the thing, and so great an absurdity, that no Poetic License can account for it; for tho' Poesie may form Stories, as Idea and Fancy may furnish Materials, yet Poesy must not break in upon Chronology, and make things which in time were to exist, act before they existed.

Thus a Painter may make a fine piece of Work, the fancy may be good, the strokes masterly, and the beauty of the Workmanship inimitably curious and fine, and yet have some unpardonable improprieties which marr the whole Work. So the famous Painter of _Toledo_ painted the story of the three Wis.e.m.e.n of the _East_ coming to worship, and bring their presents to our Lord upon his birth at _Bethlehem_, where he represents them as three _Arabian_ or _Indian_ Kings; two of them are white, and one black; But unhappily when he drew the latter part of them kneeling, which to be sure was done after their faces; their legs being necessarily a little intermix'd, he made three black feet for the _Negroe_ King, and but three white feet for the two white Kings, and yet never discover'd the mistake till the piece was presented to the King, and hung up in the great Church. As this is an unpardonable error in Sculpture or Limning, it must be much more so in Poetry, where the Images must have no improprieties, much less inconsistencies.

In a word, Mr. _Milton_ has indeed made a fine Poem, but it is _the Devil of a History_. I can easily allow Mr. _Milton_ to make Hills and Dales, flowry Meadows and Plains (and the like) in Heaven; and places of Retreat and Contemplation in _h.e.l.l_; tho' I must add, that it can be allowed to no Poet on Earth but Mr. _Milton_. Nay, I will allow Mr.

_Milton_, if you please, to set the _Angels_ a dancing in _Heaven_, _lib._ v. _fo._ 138. and the _Devils_ a singing in h.e.l.l, _lib._ i. _fo._ 44. tho' they are in short, especially the last, most horrid Absurdities. But I cannot allow him to make their Musick in _h.e.l.l_ to be harmonious and charming as he does; such Images being incongruous, and indeed shocking to Nature. Neither can I think we should allow things to be plac'd out of time in Poetry, any more than in History; 'tis a confusion of Images which is allow'd to be disallow'd by all the Criticks of what tribe or species soever in the world, and is indeed unpardonable. But we shall find so many more of these things in Mr.

_Milton_, that really taking notice of them all, would carry me quite out of my way, I being at this time not writing the History of Mr.

_Milton_, but of the _Devil_: besides, Mr. _Milton_ is such a celebrated Man, that who but he that can write the History of the _Devil_ dare meddle with him?

But to come back to the business. As I had caution'd you against running to Scripture for shelter in cases of difficulty, Scripture weighing very little among the people I am directing my Speech to; so indeed Scripture gives but very little light into any thing of the _Devil_'s Story before his Fall, and but _to very little_ of it for some time after.

Nor has Mr. _Milton_ said one word to solve the main difficulty (_viz._) How the _Devil_ came to fall, and how Sin came into Heaven; how the spotless Seraphic Nature could receive infection, whence the contagion proceeded, what noxious matter could emit corruption there, how and whence any vapour to poison the Angelick Frame could rise up, or how it increas'd and grew up to crime. But all this he pa.s.ses over, and hurrying up that part in two or three words, only tells us,

------ his Pride, Had cast him out of Heaven with all his Host Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring He trusted to have equal'd the most High.

_lib._ i. _fo._ 3.

_His pride!_ but how came _Satan_ while an Arch-angel to be proud? How did it consist, that Pride and perfect Holiness should meet in the same Person? Here we must bid Mr. _Milton_ good night; for, in plain terms, he is in the dark about it, and so we are all; and the most that can be said, is, that we know the fact is so, but nothing of the nature or reason of it.

But to come to the History: The Angels fell, they sinn'd (wonderful!) in Heaven, and G.o.d cast them out; what their sin was is not explicit, but in general 'tis call'd a Rebellion against G.o.d; all sin must be so.