Chapter XXVII.
Le Bon Diable.
The Devil repainted—Satan a divine agent—St. Orain’s heresy—Primitive universalism—Father Sinistrari—Salvation of demons—Mediæval sects—Aquinas—His prayer for Satan—Popular antipathies—The Devil’s gratitude—Devil defending innocence—Devil against idle lords—The wicked ale-wife—Pious offenders punished—Anachronistic Devils—Devils turn to poems—Devil’s good advice—Devil sticks to his word—His love of justice—Charlemagne and the Serpent—Merlin—His prison of Air—Mephistopheles in Heaven.
The phrase which heads this chapter is a favourite one in France. It may have had a euphemistic origin, for the giants dreaded by primitive Europeans were too formidable to be lightly spoken of. But within most of the period concerning which we have definite knowledge such phrases would more generally have expressed the half-contemptuous pity with which these huge beings with weak intellects were regarded. The Devil imported with Christianity was made over, as we have seen, into the image of the Dummeteufel, or stupid good-natured giant, and he is represented in many legends which show him giving his gifts and services for payments of which he is constantly cheated. Le Bon Diable in France is somewhat of this character, and is often taken as the sign of tradesmen who wish to represent themselves as lavishing their goods recklessly for inadequate compensation. But the large accession of demons and devils from the East through Jewish and Moslem channels, of a character far from stupid, gave a new sense to that phrase and corresponding ones. There is no doubt that a very distinct reaction in favour of the Devil arose in Europe, and one expressive of very interesting facts and forces. The pleasant names given him by the masses would alone indicate this,—Monsieur De Scelestat, Lord Voland, Blümlin (floweret), Federspiel (gay-plumed), Maitre Bernard, Maitre Parsin (Parisian).
The Devil is not so black as he’s painted. This proverb concerning the long-outlawed Evil One has a respectable antiquity, and the feeling underlying it has by no means been limited to the vulgar. Even the devout George Herbert wrote—
We paint the Devil black, yet he
Hath some good in him all agree.
Robert Burns naively appeals to Old Nick’s better nature—
But fare ye weel, auld Nickie-ben!
O wad ye tak a thought an’ men’!