ces of the globe; of the deliverance premeditated and prepared
in the provinces of Heaven, where the first revolt had long ago been
fomented.

"Prince," she went on, "your army awaits you. Come, lead it on to
victory."

"Friends," replied the great archangel, "I was aware of the object of
your visit. Baskets of fruit and honeycombs await you under the shade of
this mighty tree. The sun is about to descend into the roseate waters of
the Sacred River. When you have eaten, you will slumber pleasantly in
this garden, where the joys of the intellect and of the senses have
reigned since the day when I drove hence the spirit of the old Demiurge.
To-morrow I will give you my answer."

Night hung its blue over the garden. Satan fell asleep. He had a dream,
and in that dream, soaring over the earth, he saw it covered with angels
in revolt, beautiful as gods, whose eyes darted lightning. And from pole
to pole one single cry, formed of a myriad cries, mounted towards him,
filled with hope and love. And Satan said:

"Let us go forth! Let us seek the ancient adversary in his high abode."
And he led the countless host of angels over the celestial plains. And
Satan was cognizant of what took place in the heavenly citadel. When
news of this second revolt came thither, the Father said to the Son:

"The irreconcilable foe is rising once again. Let us take heed to
ourselves, and in this, our time of danger, look to our defences, lest
we lose our high abode."

And the Son, consubstantial with the Father, replied:

"We shall triumph under the sign that gave Constantine the victory."

Indignation burst forth on the Mountain of God. At first the faithful
Seraphim condemned the rebels to terrible torture, but afterwards
decided on doing battle with them. The anger burning in the hearts of
all inflamed each countenance. They did not doubt of victory, but
treachery was feared, and eternal darkness had been at once decreed for
spies and alarmists.

There was shouting and singing of ancient hymns and praise of the
Almighty. They drank of the mystic wine. Courage, over-inflated, came
near to giving way, and a secret anxiety stole into the inner depths of
their souls. The archangel Michael took supreme command. He reassured
their minds by his serenity. His countenance, wherein his soul was
visible, expressed contempt for danger. By his orders, the chiefs of the
thunderbolts, the Kerubs, grown dull with the long interval of peace,
paced wit