BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY[Story]

The belief in compacts with the devil is of great antiquity. Satan, contending with God for the possession of the human race, was supposed to have developed a passion for catching souls. At the death of every man a real fight takes place over his soul between an angel, who wishes to lead it to heaven, and a devil, who attempts to drag it to hell (Jude 9). In order to assure the soul for himself in advance, Satan attempts to purchase it from the owner while he is still living—vivente corpore, as he tells the restaurateur in Poe’s story. As prince of this world he can easily grant even the most extravagant wishes of man in exchange for his soul. Office, wealth and pleasure are mainly the objects for which a man enters into a pact with the Evil One. Count de Luizzi in Frédéric Soulié’s Les Mémoires du Diable sells his soul to the devil for an uncommon consideration. It is not wealth or pleasure that tempts him. What he wants in exchange for his soul is to know the past lives of his fellowmen and women, “a thing,” as Mr. Saintsbury well remarks, “which a person of sense and taste would do anything, short of selling himself to the devil, not to know.” The devil fulfils every wish of his contractor for a stipulated period of time, at the expiration of which the soul becomes his. Pope Innocent VIII, in his fatal bull “Summis desiderantes” of the year 1484, officially recognized the possibility of a compact with the devil. Increase Mather, the New England preacher, also affirms that many men have made “cursed covenants with the prince of darkness.

St. Theophilus, of Cilicia, in the sixth century, was the first to make the notable discovery that a man could enter into a pact of this nature. The price he set for his soul was a bishopric. This story has been superseded during the Renaissance period by a similar legend concerning the German Dr. Faustus. Other famous personages reputed to have sold their souls to the devil for one consideration or another are Don Juan in Spain, Twardowski in Poland, Merlin in England, and Robert le Diable in France. Socrates, Apuleius, Scaliger and Cagliostro are also said to have entered into compacts with him.

In devil-contracts the Evil One insists that his human negotiator sign the deed with his own blood, while the man never requires the devil to sign it even in ink. The human party to the transaction has always had full confidence in the word of the fiend. There is a universal belief that the devil invariably fulfils his engagement. In no single instance of folk-lore has Satan tried to evade the fulfilment of his share in the agreement. But the man, in violation of the written pact, has often cheated the devil out of his legal due by technical quibbles. “It is peculiar to the German tradition,” says Gustav Freytag, “that the devil endeavours to fulfil zealously and honestly his part of the contract; the deceiver is man.” In regard to fidelity to his word, the father of lies has always set an example to his victims. “You men,” said Satan, “are cheats; you make all sorts of promises so long as you need me, and leave me in the lurch as soon as you have got what you wanted.” Mediaeval man had no scruples about his breach of contract with the devil. He always considered the legal document signed with his own blood as “a scrap of paper.” “But still the pact is with the enemy; the man is not bound beyond the letter, and may escape by any trick. It is still the ethics of war. We are very close to the principle that a man by stratagem or narrow observance of the letter may escape the eternal retribution which God decrees conditionally and the devil delights in” (H. D. Taylor, Mediaeval Mind). We now can understand why in Eugene Field’s story “Daniel and the Devil” it seems to Satan so strange that he should be asked for a written guarantee that he too would fulfil his part of the contract. Apparently this was the first time that the devil had any transactions with an American business man, who has not even faith in Old Nick.

Reference is made in this story by the devil himself to the popular saying that the devil is not so black as he is painted. Even the devout George Herbert wrote—

“We paint the devil black, yet he
Hath some good in him all agree.”

This story recalls to us the proverb: “Talk of the devil, and he will either come or send.”

Washington Irving, as we have seen, thinks that he is not always very obliging.

Satan, the father of lies, is said to be the patron of lawyers. The men of the London bar formed a “Temple” corps, which was dubbed “The Devil’s Own.” The tavern of the lawyers on Fleet Street in London was called “The Devil.”

BON-BON