life. To them, their dens and caverns seem preferable to the most gorgeous palaces of heaven; their filthy rags more seemly than the shining, garments of the angels; their fetid stenches more grateful to their nostrils than would be the sweetest perfume from the gardens of the blest. "It is delightful to the devils," says Swedenborg, "to inhabit such places [as caverns and clefts of the rocks], and undelightful to them to dwell in open fields."
"They love sandy places, and prefer them to fields and gardens." "They love mean and squalid brothels."
"They love the filth of swine." "They love urinous places and scents, because these things correspond to the delights of their life."
I am aware that this will sound very strange to minds much confirmed in the old ideas. It will seem to them utterly incredible that such unsightly and disgusting objects as those above mentioned, should be delightful to the devils. But they will see upon reflection that nothing could be more reasonable. For are there not animals that delight in just such sights and smells here on earth? If so, then these things are agreeable to some kinds of life. They are in perfect correspondence with some natures, as truly so as beautiful gardens and the perfume of sweetest flowers are in correspondence with the nature of angels. To crows and kites the smell of carrion is not unpleasant, but delightful. Owls and bats prefer darkness to light. Mire and filth are not unsightly, but beautiful to the eyes of swine; and the stench of their own
