throng of
spectators, a veritable ocean of curious faces and sympathetic eyes.
In the foreground, on the right, was Prometheus, in the act of
fashioning men. He was bound by a long chain and was working very fast
and very hard. Beside him stood several monstrous fellows who were
constantly whipping and goading him on. There was also an abundance of
glue and other materials about, and he was getting fire out of a large
coal-pan. On the other side was a figure of the deified Hercules, with
Hebe in his lap. On the stage in the foreground a crowd of youthful
forms were laughing and running about, all of whom were very happy and
did not merely seem to live. The youngest looked like amorettes, the
older ones like images of women. But each one of them had his own
peculiar manner and a striking originality of expression; and they all
bore a certain resemblance to the Christian painters' and poets' idea
of the devil--one might have called them little Satans. One of the
smallest said:

"He who does not despise, cannot respect; one can only do either
boundlessly, and good tone consists only in playing with men. And so
is not a certain amount of malice an essential part of harmonious
culture?"

"Nothing is more absurd," said another, "than when the moralists
reproach you about your egoism. They are altogether wrong; for what
god, who is not his own god, can deserve respect from man? You are, to
be sure, mistaken in thinking that you have an ego; but if, in the
meantime, you identify it with your body, your name and your property,
you thereby at least make ready a place for it, in case by any chance
an ego should come."

"And this Prometheus you can all hold in deep reverence," said one of
the tallest. "He has made you all and is constantly making more like
you."

And in fact just as soon as each new man was finished, the devils put
him down with all the rest who were looking on, and immediately it was
impossible to distinguish him from the others, so much alike were they
all.

"The mistake he makes is in his method," continued the Sataniscus.
"How can one want to do nothing but fashion men? Those are not the
right tools he has."

And thereat he pointed to a rough figure of the God of the Gardens,
which stood in the back part of the stage between an Amor and a very
beautiful naked Venus.

"In regard to that our friend Hercules had better views, who could
occupy fifty maidens in a single night for the welfare of humanity,