GOING t’other day to hear mass at a convent in this town, the door it seems was shut, and a world of people pressing and begging to get in. Upon enquiry what the matter was; they told me of a demoniac to be exorcised; (or dispossessed) which made me put in for one, to see the ceremony: though to little purpose; for when I had half smothered myself in the throng, I was e’en glad to get out again, and bethink myself of my lodging. Upon my way homeward, at the street’s end, it was my fortune to meet a familiar friend of mine of the same convent; who told me over again what I had heard before, and taking notice of my curiosity, bade me follow him; which I did, till with his _passe-partout_ he brought me through a little back-door into the church, and so into the vestry: where we saw a wretched kind of a dog-looked fellow with a tippet about his neck, as ill ordered as you’d wish; his clothes all in tatters, his hands bound behind him, roaring and tearing after a most hideous manner. “Bless me,” quoth I, crossing myself, “what spectacle have we here?” “This,” said the good Father who was to do the feat, “is a man that’s possessed with an evil spirit.” “That’s a damned lie,” with respect of the company, cried the devil that tormented him, “for this is not a man possessed with a devil, but a devil possessed with a man; and therefore you should do well to have a care what you say, for it is most evident, both by the question and answer, that you are but a company of sots. You are to understand that we devils never enter into the body of a catchpole, but by force, and in spite of our hearts; and therefore to speak properly, you are to say, this is a devil catchpoled, and not a catchpole bedevilled. And, to give you your due, you men can deal better with us devils, than with the catchpoles, for we fly from the cross, whereas they make use of it, for a cloak for their villainy. “But though we differ thus in our humours, we hold a very fair correspondence in our offices: if we draw men into judgment and condemnation, so do the catchpoles; we pray for an increase of wickedness in the world, so do they; nay and more zealously than we, for it is their livelihood, and we do it only for company: and in this the catchpoles are worse than the devils; they prey upon their own kind, and worry one another. For our parts, we are angels still, though black ones, and were turned into devils only for aspiring into an equality with our Maker: whereas the very corruption of mankind is the generation of a catchpole. So that, my good Father, your labour is but lost in plying this wretch with relics; for you may as soon redeem a soul from hell, as a prey out of his clutches. In fine, your algouazils (or catchpoles) and your devils are both of an order, only your catchpole-devils wear shoes and stockings, and we go barefoot after the fashion of this reverend Father; and (to deal plainly) have a very hard time on’t.”