Of the fearful events that take place at Marienfliess—Item, bow Dorothea Stettin becomes possessed by the devil.

Meanwhile Satan hath not been less busy at Marienfliess in Sidonia's absence, than at Old Stettin in her presence. But he cunningly changed his mode of action, not to be recognised, and truly Dorothea Stettin was the first he practised on. For having recovered from her sickness, she one day presented herself at church in the nun's choir as usual; but while joining in the closing hymn, she suddenly changed colour, began to sob and tremble in every limb, then continued the chant in a strange, uncertain voice, sometimes treble, sometimes bass, like that of a lad whose beard is just beginning to grow. At this the abbess and the sisterhood listened and stared in wonder, then asked if the dear sister had fallen ill again?

"No," she answered gruffly, "she only wanted to be married. She was tired of playing the virgin. Did the abbess know, perchance, of any one who would suit her as bridegroom? For she must and would be married!"

Think now of the horror of the nuns. Still they thanked God that such a scandalum had happened during the singing, and not at the blessed sermon. Then they seized her by the arms, and drew her away to her cell. But woe, alas! scarcely had she reached it, when she threw herself upon her bed in strong convulsions. Her eyes turned so that only the whites were to be seen, and her face grew so drawn and strange that it was a grief to look upon it, and still she kept on screaming in the deep, gruff man's voice—"For a bridegroom! a bridegroom!" she that was so modest, and had such a delicate, gentle voice. Whereupon all the sisters rushed in to hear her the moment the sermon was over; item, the priest in his surplice.

But the unfortunate maiden no sooner beheld him, than she cried out in the deep bass voice—"David, I must marry; wilt thou be my bridegroom?" And when he answered, "Alas, poor girl! when was such speech ever heard from you before? Satan himself must have possessed you!" she cried out again, "Hold your chatter—will you, or will you not?"

"How can I take you?" replied the priest; "you know well that I have a wife already." Whereupon the gruff bass voice answered, with mocking laughter, "Ha! ha! ha! what matter for that? Take more wives!"

Here some of the young novices laughed, but others who had never wept bis dato, now broke out in violent weeping, and the abbess exclaimed, "Oh, merciful God! who hath ever heard the like from this our chaste sister, whom we have known from her youth up? Oh! deliver her from this wicked devil who reigns in her soul and members!"

But at the mention of the holy name, the evil one raged more furiously than ever within her. He tore her, so that she foamed at the mouth, and—ah! woe is me that I must speak it—uttered coarse and shameful words, such as the most shameless groom or jack-boy would scarce pronounce.

These sent all the novices flying and screaming away; but the abbess remained, with some of the nuns, also the priest, who prepared now to exorcise the devil with the most powerful conjurations. Yet ere he began, a strange thing happened; for the possessed maiden became suddenly quite still, all her members relaxed, and her eyes closed heavily as if in sleep. But it was not so, for she then began, in her own soft, natural voice, to chant a hymn in Dutch, although they all knew she never had learned one word of that language. The words were these:—

"Oh, chaste Jesu! all whose being
Was so lovely to our seeing,
Thoughts and speech, and soul and senses,
Filled with noblest evidences.

Oh! the God that dwelt in Thee,
In His sinless purity!
Oh, Christ Immanuel,
Save me from the sinner's hell!

Make my soul, with power divine,
Chaste and holy, ev'n as Thine!"

Then she added in her own tongue—"Ah! ye must pray much before this devil is cast out of me. But still pray, pray diligently, and it will be done.

"Guard, Lord Christ, our deepest slumber,
Evil thoughts may come in dreams;
And the senses list the murmur,
Though the frail form sleeping seems.

Oh! if Thy hand do not keep us,
Even in sleep, from passion's flame,
Though our eyes close on temptation,
We may fall to sin and shame!
Amen."

"Yes, yes, oh, pray for me; be not weary, her judgment is pronounced."

"What mean you?" spake the abbess, "whose judgment hath been pronounced?"

Illa.—"Know you not, then? Sidonia's."

HÆc.—"How could she have bewitched you? She is far from here."

Illa.—"Spirits know no distance."

HÆc.—"How then hath she done this?"

Illa.—"Her spirit Chim summoned another spirit last evening, who entered into me as I gasped for air, after that strife between you and your maid, for I was shocked to hear this faithful creature called a thief."

HÆc.—"And is she not a thief?"

Illa.—"In no wise. She is as innocent as a new-born child."

HÆc.—"But there was no one else in the chamber when I laid down my purse, and when she went away it was gone."

Illa.—"Ah! your dog Watcher was there, and the purse was made of calf's skin, greased with your hands, for you had been rolling butter; so the dog swallowed it, having got no dinner. Kill the dog, therefore, and you will find your purse."

HÆc.—"For the love of Heaven! how know you aught of my rolling butter?"

Illa.—"A beautiful form like an angel sits at my head, and whispers all to me."

HÆc.—"That must be the devil, who has gone out of thee, for fear of the priest."

Illa.—"Oh, no! He sits under my liver. See!—there is the angel again! Ha! how terribly his eyes are flashing!"

HÆc.—"Canst thou see, then? Thine eyes are close shut" (opening Dorothea's eyes by force, but the pupil is not to be seen, only the white).

Illa.—"I see, but not through the eyes—through the stomach."

HÆc.—"What? Thou canst see through the stomach?"

Illa.—"Ay, truly! I can see everything: there is Anna Apenborg peeping under the bed; now she lets the quilt drop in fright. Is it not so?"

The abbess clasps her hands together, looks at the priest in astonishment, and cries, "For the love of God, tell me what does all this betoken?"

To which the priest answers, "My reason is overwhelmed here, and I might almost believe what the ancients pretended, and Cornelius Agrippa also maintained, that two dÆmones or spirits attend each man from infancy to the grave; and that each spirit strives to blend himself with the mortal, and make the human being like unto himself, whether it be for good or evil. [Footnote: Cornelius Agrippa, of the noble race of Nettersheim, natural philosopher, jurist, physician, soldier, necromancer, and professor of the black art—in fine, learned in all natural and supernatural wisdom, closed his restless life at Grenoble, 1535. His principal work, from which the above is quoted (cap. xx.), is entitled De Occulta Philosophia. That Socrates had an attendant spirit or demon from his youth up, whose suggestions he followed as an oracle, is known to us from the Theages of Plato. But of the nature of this genius, spirit, or voice, we have no certain indications from the ancients, though the subject has been much investigated in numerous writings, beginning with the monographs of Apulejus and Plutarch. The first (Apulejus), De Deo Socratis, makes the strange assertion, that it was a common thing with the Pythagoreans to have such a spirit; so much so, that if any among them declared he had not one, it was deemed strange and singular.]

"However, I esteem this apparition to be truly Satan, who has changed himself into an angel of light to deceive more easily, as is his wont; therefore, as this our poor sister hath also a prophesying spirit, like that maiden mentioned, Acts xvi. 16, let us do even as St. Paul, and conjure it to leave her. But first, it would be advisable to see if she hath spoken truth respecting the dog."

So my dog was killed, and there in truth was the purse of gold found in his stomach, to the wonderment of all, and the great joy of the poor damsel who had been accused of stealing it. Immediately after, the poor possessed one turned herself on the couch, sighed, opened her eyes, and asked, "Where am I?" for she knew nothing at all of what she had uttered during her sleep, and only complained of a weakness through her entire frame. [Footnote: That poor Dorothea was in the somnambulistic state (according to our phraseology) is evident. A similar instance in which the demoniac passed over into the magnetic state is given by Kerner, "History of Possession," p. 73. I must just remark here, that Kieser ("System of Tellurism") is probably in error when he asserts, from the attitudes discovered amongst some of the Egyptian hieroglyphics, that the ancients were acquainted with the mode of producing the magnetic state by manipulation or passes, for Jamblicbus enumerates all the modes known to the ancients of producing the divining crisis, in his book De Mysteriis Ægyptorium, in the chapter, Insperatas vacat ab actione propria, page 58, and never mentions manipulation amongst them, of which mode, indeed, Mesmer seems to have been the original discoverer. The ancients, too, were aware (as we are) that the magnetic and divining state can be produced only in young and somewhat simple (simpliciores) persons. Porphyry confirms this in his remarkable letter to the Egyptian priest of Anubis (to which I earnestly direct the physiologists), in which he asks, "Wherefore it happens that only simple (aplontxronz kai nxonz) and young persons were fitted for divination?" Yet there were many even then, as we learn from Jamblich and the later Psellus, who maintained the modern rationalistic view, that all these phenomena were produced only by a certain condition of our own spiritual and bodily nature; although all somnambulists affirm the contrary, and declare they are the result of external spiritual influences working upon them.] After this, the evil spirit left her in peace for two days, and every one hoped that he had gone out of her; but on the third day he began to rage within the unfortunate maiden worse than ever, so that they had to send quickly for the priest to exorcise him. But behold, as he entered in his surplice, and uttered the salutation, "The peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be upon this maid," the evil spirit with the man's coarse voice cried out of poor Dorothea's mouth—

"Come here, parson, I'll soon settle for you."

Then it cursed, swore, and blasphemed God, and raged within the poor maiden, so that the foam gathered on her pale lips. But the reverend David is not to be frightened from his duty by the foul fiend. He kneeled down first, with all present, and prayed earnestly to God; then endeavoured to make the possessed maiden repeat the Lord's Prayer and the Creed after him; but the devil would not let her. He raged, roared, laughed scornfully, and abused the priest with such unseemly words that it was a grief and horror to hear them.

"Wait, parson," it screamed, "in three days thou shalt be as I am.
(Namely, a spirit; though no one knew then what the devil meant.)
I will make thee pay for this, because thou tormentest me."

But neither menaces nor blasphemies could deter the good priest. He lifted his eyes to heaven, and prayed that beautiful prayer from the Pomeranian liturgy, page 244, which he had by heart:—

"O Lord Jesu Christ, Thou Son of the living God, at whose name every knee must bend, in heaven, upon the earth, and under the earth; God and man; our Saviour, our brother, our Redeemer; who hast conquered sin, and death, and hell, trod on the devil's head and destroyed his works—Thou hast promised, Thou holy Saviour, 'that whatever we ask the Father in Thy name, Thou wilt grant unto us.' Therefore, by that holy promise, we pray Thee, Lord Christ, to look with pity upon this our sister, who hath been baptized in Thy holy name, redeemed by Thy precious blood, washed from all sin, anointed by Thy Holy Spirit, and made one with Thee, a member of the living temple of Thy body. Relieve her from the tyranny and power of the devil; graciously cast out this unclean spirit, that so Thy holy name may be praised and glorified, for ever and ever. Amen."

Then he laid his hand upon the sick maiden's head, while the hellish fiend raged and roared more furiously than ever, so that all present were seized with trembling, and exclaimed—

"In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and in the strength of the Lord Jesus Christ, and in the power of the Lord Jesus Christ, I bid, desire, and command thee, thou unclean spirit, to come forth, and give place to the Holy Spirit of God! Amen."

Whereupon the convulsions ceased in the sick maiden's limbs, and she sank down gently on her bed, as a sail falls when the cords are loosed and the wind ceases; and thus she lay for a long time quite still.

After which, she said in her own natural voice—

"Now I see him no more!"

"Who is it that you see no more?" asked the abbess.

Illa.—"The evil spirit, my angel says. He has gone forth from me. Woe, woe, alas!"

HÆc.—"Why dost thou cry, alas, when he has in truth gone out from thee?"

_Illa.—"My angel says, he will first strangle the priest who has cast him forth, then will he return, as it is written in the Scripture (Matt. xi. 24), 'After three days I will return to my house from which I had gone forth.' Ah, look! the good priest is growing pale. But let him be comforted, for he shall have his reward in heaven, as the Lord saith (Matt, v.)."

HÆc.—"But why does the great God permit such power to the devil, if what thou sayest be true?"

Illa is silent.

HÆc.—"Thou art silent; what says thy angel?"

Illa.—"He is silent also—now he speaks again."

HÆc.—"What says he then?"

Illa.—"The wisdom of God is silent."

The abbess repeats the words, while the priest falls back against the wall, as white as chalk, and exclaims—

"Your angel is right. I feel as if a mouse were running up and down through my body. Alas! now the bones of my chest are breaking. Farewell, dear sisters; in heaven we shall meet again. Farewell; pray for me. I go to lay my head upon my death-pillow."

And he was scarcely gone out at the door when a great cry and weeping arose amongst the sisters present, and the abbess asked, weeping likewise—

"Is this, too, Sidonia's work?"

Illa.—"Whose else? She hath never forgiven him because he rejected her love, and hath only delayed his death to a fitting opportunity."

HÆc.—"Merciful God! and will this murderous nun be brought to judgment?"

Illa.—"Yes, when her hour comes, she will be burned and beheaded—not many years after this."

HÆc.—"And what will become of you? Will you die, if Satan often takes up his dwelling-place in your heart?"

Illa.—"If you do not prevent him, I shall die; if he leave me, I shall grow well."

HÆc.—"What can we, miserable mortals, do to prevent him?"

Illa.—"Jobst Bork of Saatzig has three rings, which the spirits made, and gave to his grandmother in Pansin. Item, he has also a beautiful daughter called Diliana, and as no second on earth bears her name, [Footnote: In fact, I have nowhere else met with the name "Diliana," whereas that of "Sidonia" is by no means uncommon. Virgil calls Dido "Sidonia" (Æn. i, v. 446), with somewhat of poetic license, for she was not born in Sidon but in Tyre. About the time of the Reformation this name became very common in the regal houses. For example, King George of Bohemia, Duke Henry of Saxony, Duke Franz of Westphalia, and others, had daughters called "Sidonia." For this reason, therefore, the proud knight of Stramehl probably gave the same name to his daughter. In the Middle Ages I find only one Sidonia or Sittavia, the spouse of Count Manfred of Xingelheim, who built the town of Zittau, and died in the year 1021.] so is there no other who equals her in goodness, piety, humility, chastity, and courage. If this Diliana lays one of the rings on my stomach, in the name of God, the devil can no more enter in me, and I shall be healed. But what do I see?—there she comes herself."

HÆc.—"Who comes?"

Illa.—"Diliana. She has run away from her father, and will offer herself as servant to Sidonia, because old Wolde is sick."

HÆc.—"She must be foolish then, if this be true."

Illa.—"Ay, she is foolish, but it is from pure love, which indeed is a godlike folly; for Sidonia hath bewitched her poor father, and he grows worse and worse, and her prayers to the sorceress are of no avail to help him, so she hath privately left her father's castle, to offer herself as servant to Sidonia; for no wench, far or near, will be found who will take old Wolde's place, and she hopes, in return for this, that the sorceress will give her something from her herbal to cure her old father. Ha! what do I see? How her beautiful hair streams behind her upon the wind! How she runs like a deer over the heather, and looks back often, for her heart is trembling lest her father might send after her. Now she enters the wood; see, she kneels down, and prays for her father and for herself, that God will keep her steps. Let us pray also, dear sisters, for her, for the poor priest, and for the unfortunate maiden."

Whereupon they all fell upon their knees, and the possessed virgin offered up so beautiful a prayer that none had ever heard the like before, and every face was bedewed with tears. After which she awoke, and, as the first time, remembered nothing whatever of what had passed, or of what she had uttered.