How gladly would Satan, who fell like lightning from heaven, come to the help of those whom he has deceived, whose minds he has controlled, and who are fully devoted to his service. Gladly would he send the lightning and kindle their sacrifices; but Jehovah has set Satan’s bounds. He has restrained his power, and all his devices cannot convey one spark to Baal’s altars. Evening draws on. The prophets of Baal are weary, faint, and confused. One suggests one thing, and one another, until they cease their efforts. Their shrieks and curses no longer resound over Mount Carmel. With weakness and despair they retire from the contest. {3T 282.3}

Hvor meget ville Satan, som faldt som lys fra himlen, ikke gerne hjælpe de mennesker han har bedraget, hvem han styrer og som er helt helliget til hans (283) tjeneste. Han vil gladelig sende lys og optænding til deres ofre, men Jehova har sat Satan fast. Han har stadig sin magt, men alle hans bedrag kan ikke tænde Baals altre. Aftenen går på. Baals profeter er trætte sultne og forvirrede. En antyder en ting og en, en anden, indtil de ophører deres bestræbelser. Deres skrig og forbandelser genlyder ikke længere over Karmels bjerg. I svaghed og fortvivlelse trækker de sig tilbage fra deres styrkeprøve.