Yet he made me put away my pen; he would not let me write the
history of Satan. Why? Because, as he said, he had suspicions;
suspicions that my attitude in this matter was not reverent; and
that a person must be reverent when writing about the sacred
characters. He said any one who spoke flippantly of Satan would be
frowned upon by the religious world and also be brought to account.

I assured him, in earnest and sincere words, that he had wholly
misconceived my attitude; that I had the highest respect for Satan,
and that my reverence for him equalled, and possibly even exceeded,
that of any member of any church. I said it wounded me deeply to
perceive by his words that he thought I would make fun of Satan,
and deride him, laugh at him, scoff at him: whereas in truth I had
never thought of such a thing, but had only a warm desire to make
fun of those others and laugh at THEM. "What others?" "Why, the
Supposers, the Perhapsers, the Might-Have-Beeners, the Could-Have-
Beeners, the Must-Have-Beeners, the Without-a-Shadow-of-Doubters,
the We-are-Warranted-in-Believingers, and all that funny crop of
solemn architects who have taken a good solid foundation of five
indisputable and unimportant facts and built upon it a Conjectural
Satan thirty miles high."

What did Mr. Barclay do then? Was he disarmed? Was he silenced?
No. He was shocked. He was so shocked that he visibly shuddered.
He said the Satanic Traditioners and Perhapsers and Conjecturers
were THEMSELVES sacred! As sacred as their work. So sacred that
whoso ventured to mock them or make fun of their work, could not
afterward enter any respectable house, even by the back door.