Whatever may be the spread of rationalism in other places, a belief in the personality of Satan still holds its ground firmly in the minds of our peasantry. How can it be otherwise when there are those who, within the last two or three years, have had the rare chance of seeing him “in propriâ personâ;” and this in a locality which, one might suppose, would be about the very last that he would be inclined to honour with his presence? The neighbourhood of L’Erée, it is true, has never borne a very high character. Everyone knows that from time immemorial the hill of Catiauroc and the beach of Rocquaine have been the favourite resort of witches and warlocks, and that their infernal master holds his court there every Friday night, and, seated in state on the cromlech which is called “Le Trépied,” receives the homage of his deluded votaries. But who could suppose that he would leave this time-honoured haunt to become the inmate of a Methodist Chapel? Such, however, if we can attach any credit to the statements of the fishermen and others who inhabit this coast, is undoubtedly the case. [Illustration: “Looking down Berthelot Street, 1880.”] Within the last few years the Wesleyans have erected several small chapels in various parts of the island, and, among others, one near a place called “Les Adams.” Shortly after the chapel was finished it began to be whispered about that lights were seen in it at hours of the night when it was well known that no one was likely to be there. The light is described by some who had seen it from a distance as if illuminating the whole of the interior, but some fishermen who were bold enough to draw near and look in at the windows could see nothing but a small subdued flame in one corner, which seemed to sink downwards into the earth. A gentleman of strict veracity, formerly residing about a mile from the spot, declared that he had frequently seen the mysterious light. He described it as being of a pale blue colour, and was convinced that it did not proceed from either candle or lamp. He had seen it from various points, from the rising ground inland, to the east of the chapel, and from the low lands lying along the sea-shore to the west. It seemed to occupy a particular spot in the building, for the light appeared brightest through one of the windows, and fainter through all the others. He had observed it on many occasions immediately after dusk, and at hours when it was most unlikely that any person would be in the chapel for any improper purpose. On drawing near, the light always disappeared. The state of the weather or of the moon seemed to make no difference in it. Curiosity, thus excited, had to be appeased, and, at last, some of the fishermen ventured to approach the chapel and peep in at the windows. What they saw they described as “Le Dain,” the name by which his Satanic Majesty is designated when it is thought proper to avoid the more offensive