  ’Tis a beautiful thought, by Philosophy taught, That from all things created some good is out-*wrought; That each is for use, and not one for abuse, Which leaves the transgressor no room for excuse. Thus the great, and the small, and the humblest of all, To action and duty alike have a call; And he does the best, who excels all the rest, In making the lot of humanity blest. As Jonathan Myer sat one night by the fire, Watching the flames from the embers expire, O’er his senses there stole, and into his soul, A spell of enchantment he could not control. The wind shook his door, and a terrible roar In his chimney was heard, like the waves on the shore. At the huge oaken back-log as fiercely it blazed. The flames of his fire leaped higher and higher, And out of its brightness looked images dire; Till at length, a great brand straight on end seemed to stand, And then into human proportions expand. Old Jonathan said, with a shake of his head, “There’s nothing in nature I’ve reason to dread, For my conscience is clear, and I’d not have a fear, Should Satan himself at this moment appear.” “Ha! your words shall be tried,” quick the demon replied, “For, lo! I am Satan, here, close by your side. Men should never defy such a being as I, For when they least think it, behold I am nigh.” Said Jonathan Myer, as he stirred up the fire, “Your face nor your figure I do not admire; But if that is your style, why, it isn’t worth while For me to find fault or your Maker revile. “Now don’t have a fear, lest it should appear That you’re an intruder—I welcome you here! For I think I have heard that you’re partial to heat.” “Well, you are either a fool or remarkably cool,” Said Satan—accepting the low wooden stool— “But before I depart, I will give you a start Which will send back the blood with a rush to your heart.” “Well, and what if you should? It might do me good, For a shock sometimes helps one—so I’ve understood. But just here let me say, that for many a day I’ve been hoping and wishing you’d happen this way. “So give us your hand, and you’ll soon understand, What a work in the future for you I have planned.” Satan’s hand he then seized, which he forcibly squeezed, At which the arch fiend looked more angry than pleased. A puzzled surprise looked out of his eyes, Which was really quite strange for the “Father of Lies.” “Come,” said he, “this won’t do—I am Satan, not you.” Said Jonathan Myer, “Very true, very true. “Now don’t get perplexed, excited or vexed, At what I’m about to present to you next. Your attention please lend, and you’ll see in the end, That Jonathan Myer, at least, is your friend. “I’ve been led to suppose, in spite of your foes, That you are far better than any one knows. Now, if there is good, in stock, stone, or wood, I’m bound to get at it, as every one should. “So I’ll not have a fear—though you seem sort o’ queer— But what all your goodness will shortly appear. Fact—I know that it will, though ’tis mingled with ill. So—so—don’t get restless—be patient—sit still. “Now I long since agreed, that there was great need Of a Devil and Hell in the Orthodox creed. (And the same law applies to a man or a goose.) “So they’ll keep you in play till the Great Judgment Day, When the Saviour of sinners will thrust you away. But then, don’t you see, they and I don’t agree; So you’ll not be obliged to play Satan to me. “Even now, in your eyes, does there slowly arise A look, which no lover of good can despise. So open your heart and its goodness impart, For now there’s no need you should practice your art.” O, strange to relate! all that visage of hate, Which wore such a fearful expression of late, Grew gentle and mild as the face of a child, Ere the springs of its life have with doubt been defiled. And a voice, soft and low as a rivulet’s flow, Said gently, “I was but in seeming your foe. Man ever will find, in himself or his kind, Either evil or good, as he makes up his mind. “As God is in all, so he answered your call, And the evil appearance to you is let fall. That evil will all change to good in the end.” Then Jonathan Myer sat alone by his fire, Till he saw the last light from the embers expire, And he thoughtfully said, as he turned toward his bed, “I will banish all hate and put love in its stead.” “I will do, and not dream—I will be, and not seem, And the triumph of goodness I’ll take for my theme. Great Spirit above! I have learned through thy love, That the Serpent has uses as well as the Dove.” |
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