nd maritime populations are easily moved with notions of the
active agency of the powers of evil. Among the Channel Isles, and on the
neighbouring coast of France, the ideas of the people on this subject
are deeply rooted. In their view, Beelzebub has his ministers in all
parts of the earth. It is certain that Belphegor is the ambassador from
the infernal regions in France, Hutgin in Italy, Belial in Turkey,
Thamuz in Spain, Martinet in Switzerland, and Mammon in England. Satan
is an Emperor just like any other: a sort of Satan Caesar. His
establishment is well organised. Dagon is grand almoner, Succor Benoth
chief of the Eunuchs; Asmodeus, banker at the gaming-table; Kobal,
manager of the theatre, and Verdelet, grand-master of the ceremonies.
Nybbas is the court-fool; Wierus, a savant, a good strygologue, and a
man of much learning in demonology, calls Nybbas the great parodist.

The Norman fishermen, who frequent the Channel, have many precautions to
take at sea, by reason of the illusions with which Satan environs them.
It has long been an article of popular faith, that Saint Maclou
inhabited the great square rock called Ortach, in the sea between
Aurigny and the Casquets; and many old sailors used to declare that they
had often seen him there, seated and reading in a book. Accordingly the
sailors, as they passed, were in the habit of kneeling many times before
the Ortach rock, until the day when the fable was destroyed, and the
truth took its place. For it has been discovered, and is now well
established, that the lonely inhabitant of the rock is not a saint, but
a devil. This evil spirit, whose name is Jochmus, had the impudence to
pass himself off, for many centuries, as Saint Maclou. Even the Church
herself is not proof against snares of this kind. The demons Raguhel,
Oribel, and Tobiel, were regarded as saints until the year 745; when
Pope Zachary, having at length exposed them, turned them out of saintly
company. This sort of weeding of the saintly calendar is certainly very
useful; but it can only be practised by very accomplished judges of
devils and their ways.

The old inhabitants of these parts relate--though all this refers to
bygone times--that the Catholic population of the Norman Archipelago was
once, though quite involuntarily, even in more intimate correspondence
with the powers of darkness than the Huguenots themselves. How this
happened, however, we do not pretend to say; but it is certain that the