and habits of thought. I cannot imagine why the Demon brought you here; he can get plenty of private secretaries—hardened, unprincipled old rascals—without seeking to beguile an innocent, inexperienced youth like you. But remember what I told you: if you dally with his offers you are lost. Put your foot down on them at once. He does not know his own mind for two minutes together. The only thing he is constant in is the ruin of the human race, and he is so clever and artful that he succeeds in making countless thousands of poor weak men and women quite as bad as himself. Take my advice, Ubertus; I am older than you. I am two hundred and thirty-one years of age. I died at the early age of fifty-one, and have lived in this hole one hundred and eighty years.'
'A hundred and eighty years!' I exclaimed in awe and astonishment.
'Yes. I was born in London in 1644, and remember when Charles the First was beheaded.'
'What brought you here, venerable sir?' I asked, trembling, 'if I may dare to put such a question. You are to all appearance young, healthy, and vigorous. You wear your own natural hair, and your skin is clear and unwrinkled. You do not seem to be bearing the weight of a load of care, and you have no marks that I can see of deadly, unrepented sin. What brought you here, then? Did the Demon beguile you, or force you, as he did me?'
'I could treat you to a long story,' he answered, but you might not consider it a treat, so I will make it a very short one. The Demon, or some of his brethren, for their name is legion, did certainly beguile me, hardened my conscience, and deprived me of my sense. I am here through my own carelessness and indifference, fostered by foolish, evil companions, and blinded by love of their approbation. I forgot or despised the gravity of demeanour which is most
