ake him for a model, you
cannot go wrong. I am perfectly well acquainted with his history, and
will relate it in a few words for your instruction. He was the son of
wretchedly poor people, and was born in a miserable hut in Cilicia. As
he grew up, he early perceived his own talents, and, by force of
flattery, servility, and corruption, found his way into the houses of the
great and opulent, who at length, out of gratitude for his services,
procured him a commission in the army of the Greek emperor. But when
there he pilfered and plundered to so enormous an extent, that he was
soon obliged to fly, to avoid being hanged. Thereupon he joined himself
to the sect of the Arians, and, by his quick parts, soon learnt to gabble
the unintelligible jargon of theology and metaphysics. About this time
the Arian emperor, Constantine, kicked from the episcopal chair at
Alexandria the good and most Catholic Athanasius; and your redoubtable
Cappadocian was, by an Arian synod, appointed to the vacant see. George
was now completely in his element: he puffed, strutted, and filled his
paunch. But when he, by his injustice and cruelty, had driven his
subjects to the verge of madness, they put him to death, and carried his
body in triumph through the streets of Alexandria. Thus did he become a
martyr, and consequently a saint.

_Hermit_. There is not a word of this in the legend.

_Devil_. I believe ye, brother; and, for the sake of truth, the Devil
only ought to have written it.

The hermit then crossed himself.

_Faustus_. Do you call eating and drinking crimes?

_Hermit_. They may tempt us to commit crimes.

_Devil_. Your virtue must be very weak if it cannot resist temptation;
for temptation and resistance should be the glory of a saint.

_Hermit_. You are right so far; but every one is not a saint.

_Faustus_. Are you happy, brother?

_Hermit_. Solitude makes me happy; a good conscience makes me blessed.

_Devil_. How do you obtain your food?

_Hermit_. The peasants bring me wherewithal to support my existence.

_Faustus_. And what do you give them in return?

_Hermit_. I pray for them.

_Faustus_. Are they bettered by your prayers?

_Hermit_. They think so, and I hope so.

_Devil_. Brother, you are a rogue.

_Hermit_. The reproaches of the sinful world are what the just man ought
to expect.

_Devil_. Why do you not look upwards, and why do you blush? But know,
that I have the art of readi