In the account given in Revelation of the war in heaven, St. Michael, whose name is simply a Hebrew word meaning "Who is like God?" is mentioned as the captain of God's host, who fought against the dragon and his angels, and overcame and cast them out.[2] It would seem that the leader of the loyal angels took his name from the battle cry with which the armies of God, as they pressed upon the rebel ranks, repudiated the blasphemous claim of him who was seeking to be like the Most High.[3] As we think of Satan as he is to-day, and as he meets us in the conflict, it will be of great value to us to keep definitely in mind the effect that his fall must have had upon his nature and powers. Not only is the adversary finite, with all the limitations common to finite beings, but he is one who, by his fall from original righteousness, has become a blasted creature, maimed and wounded in all his faculties. Man, too has fallen, and the blight is also upon {18} all his powers; but with every return to God in penitence man's powers are recuperated; he regains somewhat of his former strength. Nay, more, the spiritual strength we lay hold of through penitence is often greater than that which we lost through sin. "Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound."[4] God through the Precious Blood of His Son so mightily overrules the evil that, as we think of our sin, we can indeed triumphantly cry, "_O felix culpa!_" Not so with Satan and his companions. From the day of their fall the poison of the evil that is in them has been working relentlessly, and with never a moment's cessation, toward their ultimate destruction. By an humble, earnest effort for God's service in the little opportunities of daily life, we go on from strength to strength, while our foe, however powerful he may be in his warfare against the weakness of man, is daily drawing nearer to the time when he will lie in hell, an impotent and inert slave of the evil he has chosen as his portion. Even now, when so much of his ancient might remains, we can see the signs of his growing weakness. One illustration of the effect of his fall upon him is found in the stupidity which marks his {19} work. It is almost incredible that, after all the long millenniums of his warfare, and especially his experience since the Incarnation, he should be so incapable of realizing the inevitable consequence of his warfare against God. In innumerable cases he has seen the Saints strengthened by his antagonism; he has seen the weak becoming strong through the right use of the opportunities his temptations afford them; he has stood at the Judgment of souls as their accuser, and been covered with confusion as he saw his accusations rejected, and crowns given them, all the more glorious because of the occasion for battle and victory his hate had afforded them. All this he has seen, and yet its real significance has never dawned upon him.[5]