“Had they but known my power to smash their Church I think they would have prayed to me instead,” he went on. “I was their God Omnipotent their Lord most merciful, the author of their being and their king. Yet they despised and knew me not. They mocked my power, would not acknowledge me, and prayed to be delivered from my kingdom—licking the very golden dust about my feet the while. Have I not forgiven them time on time? have I not overlooked their follies? Led them gently by the still waters, soothed their stricken consciences, smoothed their guilty paths? Have I not given them gifts for slander, kindness for contempt—and what is my reward? They renounce me—me and all my works—the pomps and vanities of the world I gave them and those delightful pleasures born from flesh. What a thankless office then is mine! I who give all and get nothing but renunciation for all that I have done. Why, even the poorest worm of earth would turn beneath the treatment, and transforming itself into the snake or serpent take God’s voice and utter blasphemy. I, Lucifer, son of the Light, son of the Morning, son of God, an you will, how meek am I become to let mankind walk over me and pry into hell to see my chains and weakness.” He spoke in that low, contemptuous voice that had the power to cut like knives. “Therefore,” he continued, “because they renounce me, I renounce them, being but a jealous God, and then I punish them and they say, ‘Nevertheless, not my will but thine,’ and look the other way, so that I am not even held responsible for that, and may torture and torment them as I will.” “And those who do your will,” said I, “those who do it and swear allegiance to you—what of them?” For one moment he drew himself up, and pride more strong than I had ever seen before passed o’er his features. Then suddenly he unbent again and answered,— “There is a word, a little word—a long one—with a meaning human dictionary never yet explained to fulness, and it is ‘ingratitude.’ And yet,” he continued, “they are happy enough under my rule. I am an indulgent monarch, even merciful; I rarely punish, and I feed them well, and I allow them individual work. Through the countless ages that the ball has rolled they have worked well. They carry out my directions to the utmost letter, so that I rarely need to work on earth myself, since they swamp it in vulgarity and mediocrity; things generated from themselves as slaves, having no part in me. They carry out temptation far better than ever I could do, because they understand the pigmy minds they govern, and work themselves all round them, whereas I might pass with a contemptuous smile, heeding and caring not.” “Yet,” I rejoined, “you paid great attention in this church.” “’Twas a full-dress rehearsal,” he said. “Now they will go to earth, and whisper in the minds of church-goers. I came unexpectedly to see if all was right, and, as you see, it was so.”