no physician, yea, not death itself can ever heal, nor aught at all unless a heavenly medicine called Repentance be had to purge the evil in good time ere it become too deeply rooted, through gazing upon them too long.”  “Wherefore will not Belial have this adoration to himself?” asked I.  “It is the same thing,” said he, “for so long as a man adheres to these or to one of them, that man is sure to bear the mark of Belial and wear his livery.”

“By what names are these three enchantresses called?” “The furthest away is called Pride, the eldest daughter of Belial; the second is Pleasure, and the nearest to us is Lucre; these three are the trinity the world adores.”  “I would fain know the name of this vast, madding city,” said I, “hath it a better name than great Bedlam?” “Yea, ’tis called the City of Destruction.”  “Alas!” I cried, “are all that dwell therein ruined and lost?” “All,” said he, “save a few that flee from it into yon upper city which is King Emmanuel’s.”  “Woe is me and mine! how shall they escape while ever staring at what makes them more and more blind, and preys upon them in their blindness?” “It would be utterly impossible for any man to escape hence were it not that Emmanuel sends his ministers from on high, night and morn, to persuade them to leave the rebels and turn to Him, their true Sovereign, and sends to some a gift of precious ointment called Faith to anoint their eyes, and whoso obtains that genuine ointment (for there is an imitation of this as of everything else in the City of Destruction) and anoints himself therewith, at once becomes aware of his own wounds and madness, and will not tarry here a moment longer, even though Belial gave him his three daughters, yea, or his fourth who is greatest of all, for staying.”

“What are the names of these immense streets?” I enquired.  “They are called, each according to the name of the princess who rules therein; furthest is the Street of Pride, the middle, the Street of Pleasure, and next, the Street of Lucre.”  “Who, prithee, dwell in these streets?  What tongue is spoken there?  Wherefrom and of what nations are their inhabitants?” “Many people,” answered he, “of every language, religion, and nation under the sun dwell there; many a one lives in each of the three streets at different seasons, and everyone as near the gateway as he can; and very often do they change about, being unable to stay long in the one because they so greatly love the princess of the other street.  And the old renard, slyly looking on, lets everyone love whichever he prefers, or the three if he will—­all the more certain is he of him.”