Chapters (32)
- Cover
- Title
- Foreword by Michael Wood
- Introduction
- Augusta’s Secret
- Luís Duarte’s Wedding
- The Alienist
- How to Be a Bigwig
- Dona Benedita
- The Loan
- The Most Serene Republic
- The Mirror
- A Visit from Alcibiades
- The Devil’s Church
- Final Chapter
- Posthumous Picture Gallery
- The Chapter on Hats
- Ex Cathedra
- The Academies of Siam
- Fame
- The Gentleman’s Companion
- Mr. Diplomat
- Life!
- The Canon, or the Metaphysics of Style
- The Cane
- Midnight Mass
- Canary Thoughts
- Father Against Mother
- Maria Cora
- The Tale of the Cabriolet
- About The Author
- About The Translators
To complete his work, the Devil realized that he needed to sever all bonds of human solidarity—the idea of loving one’s neighbor was a major obstacle to his new institution. He therefore demonstrated that this rule was a mere invention of parasites and insolvent tradesmen; one should show nothing but indifference toward one’s fellow man, and, in some cases, hatred and contempt. He even demonstrated that the notion of “neighbor” was erroneous, and cited the refined and learned Neapolitan priest Ferdinando Galiani, who wrote to a certain marquise de l’ancien régime: “Neighbor be damned! There’s no such thing as neighbor!” The only situation in which the Devil permitted loving one’s neighbor was when it concerned loving other men’s wives, because that kind of love has the peculiarity of being nothing more than the individual’s love for himself. And since some disciples may have found that such a metaphysical explanation would escape the understanding of the masses, the Devil resorted to an illustration: one hundred people take shares in a retail bank, but, in reality, none of the shareholders looks after the business, only their own dividends: this is what happens to adulterers. This illustration was included in the book of wisdom.
Chapter 4
FRINGES AND FRINGES
The Devil’s prediction came true. As soon as someone tugged the fringe of those virtues whose velvet cloak was fringed with cotton, they duly threw their cloaks into the nettles and joined the new church. The others duly followed and the institution grew over time. The church had been founded and its doctrine was being propagated; there was not one region of the globe that did not know of it, not one language into which it had not been translated, and not one race that did not love it. The Devil gave a triumphant cheer.
However, one day, many years later, the Devil noticed that many of his faithful followers were secretly practicing the old virtues again. They didn’t practice all of them, or practice them in their entirety, but they did practice some of them, partially, and, as I say, in secret. Certain gluttons were retreating to eat frugally three or four times a year, on days of Catholic obligation; many misers were giving alms under cover of darkness or on sparsely populated streets; various embezzlers of the public purse were reimbursing small amounts; now and then fraudsters spoke the honest truth, although with their usual sly expression just so that people would think they were still being tricked.