In short, the true Account of the _Devil_'s Circumstances, since his Fall from _Heaven_, is much more likely to be thus: That he is more of a Vagrant than a Prisoner, that he is a Wanderer in the wild unbounded Wast, where he and his Legions, like the Hoords of _Tartary_, who, in the wild Countries of _Karakathay_, the Desarts of _Barkan_, _Kassan_, and _Astracan_, live up and down where they find proper; so Satan and his innumerable Legions rove about _hic & ubique_, pitching their Camps (being Beasts of prey) where they find the most Spoil; watching over this World, (and all the other Worlds for ought we know, and if there are any such,) I say watching, and seeking who they may devour, _that is_, who they may deceive and delude, and so destroy, for devour they cannot. _Satan_ being thus confin'd to a vagabond, wandring, unsettl'd Condition, is without any certain Abode; For tho' he has, in consequence of his Angelic Nature, a kind of Empire in the liquid Wast or _Air_; yet, this is certainly part of his punishment, that he is continually hovering over this inhabited Globe of Earth; swelling with the Rage of Envy, at the Felicity of his Rival, Man; and studying all the means possible to injure and ruin him; but extremely limited in Power, to his unspeakable Mortification: This is his present State, without any fix'd Abode, Place, or Space, allow'd him to rest the Sole of his Foot upon. From his Expulsion, I take his first View of Horror to be that, of looking back towards the Heaven which he had lost; there to see the Chasm or Opening made up, out at which, as at a Breach in the Wall of the holy Place, he was thrust Head-long by the Power which expel'd him; I say, to see the Breach repair'd, the Mounds built up, the Walls garison'd with millions of Angels, and arm'd with Thunders; and, above all, made terrible by that Glory from whose Presence they were expel'd, as is Poetically hinted at before. Upon this sight, 'tis no wonder (if there was such a Place) that they fled till the Darkness might cover them, and that they might be out of the View of so hated a Sight. Wherever they found it, you may be sure they pitch'd their first Camp, and began, after many a sour Reflection upon what was pass'd, to consider and think a little, upon what was to come.