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 There is an old legend about a man who sold his soul to the devil. The story seemed to have had its greatest force in the late Middle Ages, and in the English-speaking world found its most forceful expression in Dr. Faustus, the version written by Christopher Marlow. In that dramatic version, Faustus wants power, wealth, and fame. The devil, Mephistopheles, shows up and says he will make a deal. Faustus can have all of that in this life for the next twenty-four years, but when he dies his soul will go to the devil and eternal damnation. Faustus strikes the bargain and, in Marlow’s version, begins a tour of the world, the high point being a liaison with Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world.

There is much in the Faustus story. There are other versions, for the idea is tied in with the Renaissance weakening of organized religion and the simultaneous interest in nature and science. In Goethe’s version, they win and Mephistopheles takes second place. Marlow’s Faustus, however, abandoned those high aims for the lust of the flesh and other attractions of this world.

But the Faustus choice is about more than a medieval play. It is about you and I, here and now. In sum, it is about the human condition. For us the essential question is close to home: what price would we pay for fame, wealth, and power; for an invita- tion, a promotion, a luncheon at the club?

My guess is that not very many of us are entirely free from occasional Faustian temp- tations. I suspect, for example, on totally unverifiable grounds, that there are those who waffle a little on their principles in exchange for the power and glory of the White House and Capital Hill. Be that as it may, you and I won’t bargain with Presi- dents and generals. Our temptations are in a much smaller arena.