Jurgen by James Branch Cabell (any book recommendations TXT) 📕

Satan must term after term be reelected: and of course Satan had been voted absolute power in everything, since this too is customary in wartime. Well, and after the first few thousand years of this the younger devils began to whisper that such government was not ideal democracy.

But their more conservative elders were enraged by these effete and wild new notions, and dealt with their juniors somewhat severely, tearing them into bits and quite destroying them. The elder devils then proceeded to inflict even more startling punishments.

So Grandfather Satan was much vexed, because the laws were being violated everywhere: and a day or two after Jurgen’s advent Satan issued a public appeal to his subjects, that the code of Hell should be better respected. But under a democratic government people do not like to be perpetually bothering about law and order, as one of the older and stronger devils pointed out to Jurgen.

Jurgen drew a serious face, and he stroked his chin. “Why, but look you,” says Jurgen, “in deploring the mob spirit that has been manifesting itself sporadically throughout this country against the advocates of peace and submission to the commands of Heaven and other pro-Celestial propaganda⁠—and in warning loyal citizenship that such outbursts must be guarded against, as hurtful to the public welfare of Hell⁠—why, Grandfather Satan should bear in mind that the government, in large measure, holds the remedy of the evil in its own hands.” And Jurgen looked very severely toward Satan.

“Come now,” says Phlegeton, nodding his head, which was like that of a bear, except for his naked long, red ears, inside each of which was a flame like that of a spirit-lamp: “come now, but this young emperor in the fine shirt speaks uncommonly well!”

“So we spoke together in Pandemonium,” said Belial, wistfully, “in the brave days when Pandemonium was newly built and we were all imps together.”

“Yes, his talk is of the old school, than which there is none better. So pray continue, Emperor Jurgen,” cried the elderly devils, “and let us know what you are talking about.”

“Why, merely this,” says Jurgen, and again he looked severely toward Satan: “I tell you that as long as sentimental weakness marks the prosecution of offences in violation of the laws necessitated by wartime conditions; as long as deserved punishment for overt acts of pro-Celestialism is withheld; as long as weak-kneed clemency condones even a suspicion of disloyal thinking: then just so long will a righteously incensed, if now and then misguided patriotism take into its own hands vengeance upon the offenders.”

“But, still⁠—” said Grandfather Satan.

“Ineffectual administration of the law,” continued Jurgen, sternly, “is the true defence of these outbursts: and far more justly deplorable than acts of mob violence is the policy of condonation that furnishes occasion for them. The patriotic people of Hell are not in a temper to be trifled with, now that they are at war. Conviction for offenses against the nation should not be behedged about with technicalities devised for overrefined peacetime jurisprudence. Why, there is no one of you, I am sure, but has at his tongue’s tip the immortal words of Livonius as to this very topic: and so I shall not repeat them. But I fancy you will agree with me that what Livonius says is unanswerable.”

So it was that Jurgen went on at a great rate, and looking always very sternly at Grandfather Satan.

“Yes, yes!” said Satan, wriggling uncomfortably, but still not thinking of Jurgen entirely: “yes, all this is excellent oratory, and not for a moment would I decry the authority of Livonius. And your quotation is uncommonly apropos and all that sort of thing. But with what are you charging me?”

“With sentimental weakness,” retorted Jurgen. “Was it not only yesterday one of the younger devils was brought before you, upon the charge that he had said the climate in Heaven was better than the climate here? And you, sir, Hell’s chief magistrate⁠—you it was who actually asked him if he had ever uttered such a disloyal heresy!”

“Now, but what else was I to do?” said Satan, fidgeting, and swishing his great bushy tail so that it rustled against his horns, and still not really turning his mind from that ancient thought.

“You should have remembered, sir, that a devil whose patriotism is impugned is a devil to be punished; and that there is no time to be prying into irrevelant questions of his guilt or innocence. Otherwise, I take it, you will never have any real democracy in Hell.”

Now Jurgen looked very impressive, and the devils were all cheering him.

“And so,” says Jurgen, “your disgusted hearers were wearied by such frivolous interrogatories, and took the fellow out of your hands, and tore him into particularly small bits. Now I warn you, Grandfather Satan, that it is your duty as a democratic magistrate just so to deal with such offenders first of all, and to ask your silly questions afterward. For what does Rudigernus say outright upon this point? and Zantipher Magnus, too? Why, my dear sir, I ask you plainly, where in the entire history of international jurisprudence will you find any more explicit language than these two employ?”

“Now certainly,” says Satan, with his bleak smile, “you cite very respectable authority: and I shall take your reproof in good part. I will endeavor to be more strict in the future. And you must not blame my laxity too severely, Emperor Jurgen, for it is a long while since any man came living into Hell to instruct us how to manage matters in time of war. No doubt, precisely as you say, we do need a little more severity hereabouts, and would gain by adopting more human methods. Rudigernus, now?⁠—yes, Rudigernus is rather unanswerable, and I concede it frankly. So do you come home and have supper with me, Emperor Jurgen, and we will talk over these things.”

Then Jurgen went off arm in arm with Grandfather Satan, and Jurgen’s erudition and sturdy common sense were forevermore established