{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_20634/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_20634","id":"gutenberg_20634","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20634","summary":null,"tags":["Allegories","Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Christian life","Religious literature, Welsh","Welsh literature -- 18th century","Welsh literature -- Translations into English"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1860 John Murray edition by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Birmingham Library, England, for the\ngenerous provision of the material from which this transcription was\nmade.  http://www.birmingham.gov.uk/libraries.bcc.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SLEEPING BARD;\nOR\nVisions of the World, Death, and Hell,\nBY\nELIS WYN.\n\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE CAMBRIAN BRITISH\nBY\nGEORGE BORROW,\n\nAUTHOR OF\n\"THE BIBLE IN SPAIN,\" \"THE GYPSIES OF SPAIN,\" ETC.\n\nLONDON:\nJOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.\n1860.\n\n\n\n\nPreface.\n\n\nThe Sleeping Bard was originally written in the Welsh language, and was\npublished about the year 1720.  The author of it, Elis Wyn, was a\nclergyman of the Cambro Anglican Church, and a native of Denbighshire, in\nwhich county he passed the greater part of his life, at a place called Y\nlas Ynys.  Besides the Sleeping Bard, he wrote and published a book in\nWelsh, consisting of advice to Christian Professors.  The above scanty\ndetails comprise all that is known of Elis Wyn.  Both his works have\nenjoyed, and still enjoy, considerable popularity in Wales.\n\nThe Sleeping Bard, though a highly remarkable, is not exactly entitled to\nthe appellation of an original work.  There are in the Spanish language\ncertain pieces by Francisco Quevedo, called \"Visions or Discourses;\" the\nprincipal ones being \"The Vision of the Carcases, the Sties of Pluto, and\nthe Inside of the World Disclosed; The Visit of the Gayeties, and the\nIntermeddler, the Duenna and the Informer.\"  With all these the Visions\nof Elis Wyn have more or less connection.  The idea of the Vision of the\nWorld, was clearly taken from the Interior of the World Disclosed; the\nidea of the Vision of Death, from the Vision of the Carcases; that of the\nVision of Hell, from the Sties of Pluto; whilst many characters and\nscenes in the three parts, into which the work of Elis Wyn is divided,\nare taken either from the Visit of the Gayeties, the Intermeddler, or\nothers of Quevedo's Visions; for example Rhywun, or Somebody, who in the\nVision of Death makes the humorous complaint, that so much of the\nvillainy and scandal of the world is attributed to him, is neither more\nnor less than Quevedo's Juan de la Encina, or Jack o' the Oak, who in the\nVisit of the Gayeties, is made to speak somewhat after the following\nfashion:--\n\n   \"O ye living people, spawn of Satan that ye are! what is the reason\n   that ye cannot let me be at rest now that I am dead, and all is over\n   with me?  What have I done to you?  What have I done to cause you to\n   defame me in every thing, who have a hand in nothing, and to blame me\n   for that of which I am entirely ignorant?\"  \"Who are you?\" said I with\n   a timorous bow, \"for I really do not understand you.\"  \"I am,\" said\n   he, \"the unfortunate Juan de la Encina, whom, notwithstanding I have\n   been here many years, ye mix up with all the follies which ye do and\n   say during your lives; for all your lives long, whenever you hear of\n   an absurdity, or commit one, you are in the habit of saying, 'Juan de\n   la Encina could not have acted more like a fool;' or, 'that is one of\n   the follies of Juan de la Encina.'  I would have you know that all you\n   men, when you say or do foolish things, are Juan de la Encina; for\n   this appellation of Encina, seems wide enough to cover all the\n   absurdities of the world.\"\n\nNevertheless, though there is a considerable amount of what is Quevedo's\nin the Visions of Elis Wyn, there is a vast deal in them which strictly\nbelongs to the Welshman.  Upon the whole, the Cambrian work is superior\nto the Spanish.  There is more unity of purpose in it, and it is far less\nencumbered with useless matter.  In reading Quevedo's Visions, it is\nfrequently difficult to guess what the writer is aiming at; not so whilst\nperusing those of Elis Wyn.  It is always clear enough, that the Welshman\nis either lashing the follies or vices of the world, showing the\ncertainty of death, or endeavouring to keep people from Hell, by\nconveying to them an idea of the torments to which the guilty are\nsubjected in a future state.\n\nWhether Elis Wyn had ever read the Visions of Quevedo in their original\nlanguage, it is impossible to say; the probability however is, that he\nwas acquainted with them through the medium of an English translation,\nwhich was published in London about the beginning of the eighteenth\ncentury; of the merits of that translation the present writer can say\nnothing, as it has never come to his hand: he cannot however help\nobserving, that a person who would translate the Visions of Quevedo, and\ncertain other writings of his, should be something more than a fair\nSpanish scholar, and a good master of the language into which he would\nrender them, as they abound not only with idiomatic phrases, but terms of\ncant or Germania, which are as unintelligible as Greek or Arabic to the\ngreater part of the Spaniards themselves.\n\nThe following translation of the Sleeping Bard has long existed in\nmanuscript.  It was made by the writer of these lines in the year 1830,\nat the request of a little Welsh bookseller of his acquaintance, who\nresided in the rather unfashionable neighbourhood of Smithfield, and who\nentertained an opinion that a translation of the work of Elis Wyn, would\nenjoy a great sale both in England and Wales.  On the eve of committing\nit to the press however, the Cambrian Briton felt his small heart give\nway within him: \"Were I to print it,\" said he, \"I should be ruined; the\nterrible descriptions of vice and torment, would frighten the genteel\npart of the English public out of its wits, and I should to a certainty\nbe prosecuted by Sir James Scarlett.  I am much obliged to you, for the\ntrouble you have given yourself on my account--but Myn Diawl!  I had no\nidea till I had read him in English, that Elis Wyn had been such a\nterrible fellow.\"\n\nYet there is no harm in the book.  It is true that the Author is any\nthing but mincing in his expressions and descriptions, but there is\nnothing in the Sleeping Bard which can give offence to any but the over\nfastidious.  There is a great deal of squeamish nonsense in the world;\nlet us hope however that there is not so much as there was.  Indeed can\nwe doubt that such folly is on the decline, when we find Albemarle Street\nin '60, willing to publish a harmless but plain speaking book which\nSmithfield shrank from in '30?\n\n\n\n\nThe Vision of the Course of the World.\n\n\nOne fine evening of warm sunny summer, I took a stroll to the top of one\nof the mountains of Wales, carrying with me a telescope to assist my\nfeeble sight by bringing distant objects near, and magnifying small ones.\nThrough the thin, clear air, and the calm and luminous heat, I saw many\ndelightful prospects afar across the Irish sea.  At length, after\nfeasting my eyes on all the pleasant objects around me, until the sun had\nreached his goal in the west, I lay down upon the green grass,\nreflecting, how fair and enchanting, from my own country, the countries\nappeared whose plains my eyes had glanced over, how delightful it would\nbe to obtain a full view of them, and how happy those were who saw the\ncourse of the world in comparison with me: weariness was the result of\nall this toiling with my eyes and my imagination, and in the shadow of\nWeariness, _Mr. Sleep_ came stealthily to enthrall me, who with his keys\nof lead, locked the windows of my eyes, and all my other senses securely.\nBut it was in vain for him to endeavour to lock up the soul, which can\nlive and toil independently of the body, for my spirit escaped out of the\nlocked body upon the wings of Fancy, and the first thing which I saw by\nthe side of me was a dancing ring, and a kind of rabble in green\npetticoats and red caps dancing away with the most furious eagerness.  I\nstood for a time in perplexity whether I should go to them or not,\nbecause in my flurry I feared they were a gang of hungry gipsies, and\nthat they would do nothing less than slaughter me for their supper, and\nswallow me without salt: but after gazing upon them for some time, I\ncould see that they were better and handsomer than the swarthy, lying\nEgyptian race.  So I ventured to approach them, but very softly, like a\nhen treading upon hot embers, that I might learn who they were; and at\nlength I took the liberty of addressing them in this guise, with my head\nand back lowered horizontally: \"Fair assembly, as I perceive that you are\ngentry from distant parts, will you deign to take a Bard along with you,\nwho is desirous of travelling?\"  At these words the hurly-burly was\nhushed, and all fixed their eyes upon me: \"_Bard_,\" squeaked\none--\"_travel_,\" said another--\"_along with us_,\" said the third.  By\nthis time I saw some looking particularly fierce upon me; then they began\nto whisper in each others ears certain secret words, and to look at me;\nat length the whispering ceased, and each laying his gripe upon me they\nraised me upon their shoulders, as we do a knight of the shire, and then\naway with me they flew like the wind, over houses and fields, cities and\nkingdoms, seas and mountains; and so quickly did they fly that I could\nfasten my sight upon nothing, and what was worse, I began to suspect that\nmy companions, by their frowning and knitting their brows at me, wanted\nme to sing blasphemy against my King and Maker.\n\n\"Well,\" said I to myself, \"I may now bid farewell to life, these cursed\nwitches will convey me to the pantry or cellar of some nobleman, and\nthere leave me, to pay with my neck for their robberies; or they will\nabandon me stark naked, to freeze to death upon the sea-brink of old\nShire Caer, {3} or some other cold, distant place;\" but on reflecting\nthat all the old hags whom I had once known had long been dead and\nburied, and perceiving that these people took pleasure in holding or\nwaving me over hollow ravines, I conjectured that they were not witches\nbut beings who are called fairies.  We made no stop until I found myself\nby the side of a huge castle, the most beautiful I had ever seen, with a\nlarge pool or moat surrounding it: then they began to consult what they\nshould do with me; \"shall we go direct to the castle with him?\" said one.\n\"No, let us hang him or cast him into the lake, he is not worth being\nshown to our great prince,\" said another.  \"Did he say his prayers before\nhe went to sleep?\" said a third.  At the mention of prayers, I uttered a\nconfused groan to heaven for pardon and assistance; and as soon as I\nrecollected myself, I saw a light at a vast distance bursting forth, Oh,\nhow glorious!  As it drew nigh, my companions were darkening and\nvanishing, and quickly there came floating towards us a form of light\nover the castle, whereupon the fairies abandoned their hold of me, but as\nthey departed they turned upon me a hellish scowl, and unless the angel\nhad supported me, I should have been dashed into pieces small enough for\na pasty, by the time I reached the ground.\n\n\"What is your business here?\" said the angel.  \"In verity my lord,\" I\nreplied, \"I do not know what place _here_ is, nor what is my business,\nnor what I am myself, nor what has become of my other part; I had four\nlimbs and a head, and whether I have left them at home, or whether the\nfairies, who have certainly not acted fairly with me, have cast me into\nsome abyss, (for I remember to have passed over several horrid ravines,)\nI cannot tell, sir, though you should cause me to be hung.\"  \"Fairly\nindeed,\" said he, \"they would have acted with you, if I had not come just\nin time to save you from the clutches of these children of hell.\"\n\n\"Since you have such a particular desire to see the course of the _little\nworld_,\" said he, \"I have received commands to give you a sight of it, in\norder that you may see your error in being discontented with your\nstation, and your own country.  Come with me,\" he added, \"for a\nperegrination,\" and at the word he snatched me up, just as the dawn was\nbeginning to break, far above the topmost tower of the castle; we rested\nin the firmament upon the ledge of a light cloud to gaze upon the rising\nsun; but my heavenly companion, was far more luminous than the sun, but\nall his splendour was upward, by reason of a veil which was betwixt him\nand the nether regions.  When the light of the sun became stronger, I\ncould see, between the two luminaries, the vast air-encircled world, like\na little round bullet, very far beneath us.  \"Look now,\" said the angel,\ngiving me a different telescope from that which I had on the mountain.\nWhen I peeped through this I saw things in a manner altogether different\nfrom that in which I had seen them before, and in a much clearer one.  I\nsaw a city of monstrous size, and thousands of cities and kingdoms within\nit; and the great ocean, like a moat, around it, and other seas, like\nrivers, intersecting it.\n\nBy dint of long gazing I could see that it was divided into three\nexceedingly large streets; each street with a large, magnificent gate at\nthe bottom, and each gate with a fair tower over it.  Upon each tower\nthere was a damsel of wonderful beauty, standing in the sight of the\nwhole street; and the three towers appeared to reach up behind the walls\nto the skirts of the castle afore-mentioned.  Crossing these three huge\nstreets I could see another; it was but little and mean in comparison\nwith them, but it was clean and neat, and on a higher foundation than the\nother streets, proceeding upward towards the east, whilst the three\nothers ran downward towards the north to the great gates.  I now ventured\nto enquire of my companion whether I might be permitted to speak.\n\"Certainly,\" said the angel, \"speak out! but listen attentively to my\nanswers, so that I may not have to say the same thing to you more than\nonce.\"  \"I will, my lord,\" said I.  \"Now pray, what place is the castle\nyonder in the north?\"  \"The castle above in the air,\" said he, \"belongs\nto Belial, prince of the power of the air, and governor of all the great\ncity below: it is called Delusive Castle, for Belial is a great deluder,\nand by his wiles he keeps under his banner all you see, with the\nexception of the little street yonder.  He is a great prince, with\nthousands of princes under him--what were Caesar or Alexander the Great\ncompared with him?  What are the Turk and old Lewis of France, but his\nservants?  Great, yea, exceeding great, are the power, subtlety, and\ndiligence of the prince Belial; and his armies in the country below are\ninnumerable.\"  \"For what purpose,\" said I, \"are the damsels standing\nyonder, and who are they?\"  \"Softly,\" said the angel, \"one question at\nonce: they are there to be loved and to be adored.\"  \"And no wonder\nindeed,\" said I, \"since they are so amiable; if I possessed feet and\nhands as formerly, I would go and offer love and adoration to them\nmyself.\"  \"Hush, hush,\" said he, \"if you would do so with your members,\nit is well that you are without them; know, thou foolish spirit, that\nthese three princesses are only three destructive deluders, daughters of\nthe prince Belial, and all their beauty and affability, which are\nirradiating the streets, are only masks over deformity and cruelty; the\nthree within are like their father, replete with deadly poison.\"  \"Woe's\nme; is it possible,\" said I, quite sad, and smitten with love of them!\n\"It is but too true, alas,\" said he.  \"Thou admirest the radiance with\nwhich they shine upon their adorers; but know that there is in that\nradiance a very wondrous charm; it blinds men from looking back, it\ndeafens them lest they should hear their danger, and it burns them with\nceaseless longing for more of it; which longing, is itself a deadly\npoison, breeding, within those who feel it, diseases not to be got rid\nof, which no physician can cure, not even death, nor anything, unless the\nheavenly medicine, which is called repentance, is procured, to cast out\nthe evil in time, before it is imbibed too far, by excessive looking upon\nthem.\"  \"But how is it,\" said I, \"that Belial does not wish to have these\nadorers himself?\"  \"He has them,\" said the angel; \"the old fox is adored\nin his daughters, because, whilst a man sticks to these, or to one of the\nthree, he is securely under the mark of Belial, and wears his livery.\"\n\n\"What are the names,\" said I, \"of those three deceivers?\"  \"The farthest,\nyonder,\" said he, \"is called _Pride_, the eldest daughter of Belial; the\nsecond is _Pleasure_; and _Lucre_ is the next to us: these three are the\ntrinity which the world adores.\"  \"Pray, has this great, distracted\ncity,\" said I, \"any better name than _Bedlam the Great_?\"  \"It has,\" he\nreplied, \"it is called _The City of Perdition_.\"  \"Woe is me,\" said I,\n\"are all that are contained therein people of perdition?\"  \"The whole,\"\nsaid he, \"except some who may escape out to the most high city above,\nruled by the king Emmanuel.\"  \"Woe's me and mine,\" said I, \"how shall\nthey escape, ever gazing, as they are, upon the thing which blinds them\nmore and more, and which plunders them in their blindness?\"  \"It would be\nquite impossible,\" said he, \"for one man to escape from thence, did not\nEmmanuel send his messengers, early and late, from above, to persuade\nthem to turn to him, their lawful King, from the service of the rebel,\nand also transmit to some, the present of a precious ointment, called\n_faith_, to anoint their eyes with; and whosoever obtains this _true_\nointment, (for there is a counterfeit of it, as there is of every thing\nelse, in the city of Perdition,) and anoints himself with it, will see\nhis wounds, and his madness, and will not tarry a minute longer here,\nthough Belial should give him his three daughters, yea, or the fourth,\nwhich is the greatest of all, to do so.\"\n\n\"What are those great streets called?\" said I.  \"Each is called,\" he\nreplied, \"by the name of the princess who governs it: the first is the\nstreet of _Pride_, the middle one the street of _Pleasure_, and the\nnearest, the street of _Lucre_.\"  \"Pray tell me,\" said I, \"who are\ndwelling in these streets?  What is the language which they speak?  What\nare the tenets which they hold; and to what nation do they belong?\"\n\"Many,\" said he, \"of every language, faith, and nation under the Sun, are\nliving in each of those vast streets below; and there are many living in\neach of the three streets alternately, and every one as near as possible\nto the gate; and they frequently remove, unable to tarry long in the one,\nfrom the great love they bear to the princess of some other street; and\nthe old fox looks slyly on, permitting every one to love his choice, or\nall three if he pleases, for then he is most sure of him.\"\n\n\"Come nearer to them,\" said the angel, and hurried with me downwards,\nshrouded in his impenetrable veil, through much noxious vapour which was\nrising from the city; presently we descended in the street of Pride, upon\na spacious mansion open at the top, whose windows had been dashed out by\ndogs and crows, and whose owners had departed to England or France, to\nseek there for what they could have obtained much easier at home; thus,\ninstead of the good, old, charitable, domestic family of yore, there were\nnone at present but owls, crows, or chequered magpies, whose hooting,\ncawing and chattering were excellent comments on the practices of the\npresent owners.  There were in that street, myriads of such abandoned\npalaces, which might have been, had it not been for Pride, the resorts of\nthe best, as of yore, places of refuge for the weak, schools of peace and\nof every kind of goodness; and blessings to thousands of small houses\naround.\n\nFrom the summit of this ruin, we had scope and leisure enough to observe\nthe whole street on either side.  There were fair houses of wondrous\nheight and magnificence--and no wonder, as there were emperors, kings,\nand hundreds of princes there, and thousands of nobles and gentry, and\nvery many women of every degree.  I saw a vain high-topt creature, like a\nship at full sail, walking as if in a frame, carrying about her full the\namount of a pedlar's pack, and having at her ears, the worth of a good\nfarm, in pearls; and there were not a few of her kind--some were singing,\nin order that their voices might be praised; some were dancing, to show\ntheir figures; others were painting to improve their complexions; others\nhad been trimming themselves before the glass, for three hours, learning\nto smile, moving pins and making gestures and putting themselves in\nattitudes.  There was many a vain creature there, who did not know how to\nopen her lips to speak, or to eat, nor, from sheer pride, to look under\nher feet; and many a ragged shrew, who would insist that she was as good\na gentlewoman as the best in the street; and many an ambling fop, who\ncould winnow beans with the mere wind of his train.\n\nWhilst I was looking, from afar upon these, and a hundred such, behold!\nthere passed by towards us, a bouncing, variegated lady with a lofty\nlook, and with a hundred folks gazing after her; some bent themselves as\nif to adore her; some few thrust something into her hand.  Being unable\nto imagine who she was, I enquired.  \"Oh,\" replied my friend, \"she is one\nwho has all her portion in sight, yet you see how many foolish people are\nseeking her, and the meanest of them in possession of all the attainments\nshe can boast of.  _She will not have what she can gain_, _and will never\ngain what she desires_, and she will speak to no one but her betters, on\naccount of her mother's telling her, 'that a young woman cannot do a\nworse thing, than be humble in her love.'\"  Thereupon came out from\nbeneath us a pillar of a man, who had been an alderman, and in many\nofficial situations; he came spreading his wings as if to fly, though he\ncould scarcely draw one knee after the other, on account of the gout, and\nvarious other genteel disorders: notwithstanding which, you could not\nobtain from him, but through a very great favour, a glance or a nod,\nthough you should call him by his titles and his offices.\n\nFrom this being I turned my eyes to the other side of the street, where I\nbeheld a lusty young nobleman, with a number of people behind him; he had\na sweet smile and a condescending air to every one who met him.  \"It is\nstrange,\" said I, \"that this young man and yonder personage should belong\nto the same street.\"  \"Oh, the same princess Pride rules them both,\"\nanswered the angel,--\"this young man is only speaking fair on account of\nthe errand he comes upon; he is seeking popularity at present, with the\nintent to raise himself thereby to the highest office in the kingdom--it\nis easy for him to lament to the people how much they are wronged by the\noppression of bad masters; but his own exaltment, and not the weal of the\nkingdom, is the heart of the matter.\"  After gazing for a long time, I\nperceived at the gate of Pride, a fair city upon seven hills, and on the\ntop of its lofty palace there was a triple crown, with swords and keys\ncrossed.  \"Lo! there is Rome,\" said I, \"and therein dwells the Pope.\"\n\"Yes, most usually,\" said the angel; \"but he has a palace in each of the\nother streets.\"  Over against Rome, I could see a city with an\nexceedingly fair palace, and upon it was mounted on high, a half-moon on\na banner of gold, and by that I knew that the Turk was there.  Next to\nthe gate after those, was the palace of Lewis XIV., of France, as I\nunderstood by his arms, three fleurs-de-lis upon a silver banner hanging\naloft.  Whilst looking on the height and majesty of these palaces, I\nperceived that there was much passing and repassing from the one to the\nother, and I asked what was the cause thereof?  \"Oh, there is many a dark\ncause,\" said the angel, \"why those three crafty, powerful heads should\ncommunicate; but though they account themselves fully adapted to espouse\nthe three princesses above, their power and subtlety are nothing when\ncompared with these; yes, Belial the Great does not esteem the whole\ncity, (though so numerous be its kings), as equivalent to his daughters.\nNotwithstanding that he offers them in marriage to everybody, he has\nstill never given one entirely to anybody yet.  There has been a rivalry\nbetween these three concerning them:--the Turk, who calls himself _God\nupon earth_, wished for the eldest, Pride, in marriage.  'No,' said the\nking of France, 'she belongs to me, as I keep all my subjects in her\nstreet, and likewise bring many to her from England and other countries.'\nSpain would have the princess Lucre, in despite of Holland and all the\nJews.  England would have the princess Pleasure, in despite of the\nPagans.  But the Pope would have the whole three, and with better reason\nthan all the rest together, therefore Belial has stationed him next to\nthem in the three streets.\"  \"And is it on this account that there is\nthis intercourse at present,\" said I.  \"No;\" he replied, \"Belial has\narranged the matter between them for some time; but at present he has\ncaused them to lay their heads together, how they may best destroy the\ncross street yonder, which is the city of Emmanuel, and particularly one\ngreat palace which is there, out of sheer venom at perceiving that it is\na fairer edifice than exists in all the city of Perdition.  Belial\nmoreover has promised to those who shall accomplish its destruction, the\nhalf of his kingdom during his life, and the whole when he is dead.  But,\nnotwithstanding the greatness of his power and the depth of his wiles;\nnotwithstanding the multitude of crafty emperors, kings, and rulers, who\nare beneath his banner in the vast city of Perdition; and notwithstanding\nthe bravery of his countless legions on the outer side of the gates in\nthe world below; notwithstanding all this,\" said the angel, \"he shall see\nthat it is a task above his power to perform.  Yes; however great Belial\nmay be, he shall find that there is One greater than he, in the little\nstreet yonder.\"\n\nI was unable to hear his angelic reasons completely, from the tumbling\nthere was along this slippery street every hour, and I could see some\npeople with ladders scaling the tower, and having reached the highest\nstep fall headlong to the bottom.  \"To what place are those fools seeking\nto get?\" said I.  \"To a place high enough,\" said he; \"they are seeking to\nbreak into the treasury of the princess.\"  \"I will warrant it is full\nenough,\" said I.  \"It is,\" he replied; \"and with every thing which\nbelongs to this street, for the purpose of being distributed amongst the\ninhabitants.  There you will find every species of warlike arms to subdue\nand to over-run countries; every species of arms of gentility, banners,\nescutcheons, books of pedigree, stanzas and poems relating to ancestry,\nwith every species of brave garments; admirable stories, lying portraits;\nall kinds of tints and waters to embellish the countenance; all sorts of\nhigh offices and titles; and, to be brief, there is every thing there\nthat is adapted to cause a man to think better of himself, and worse of\nothers than he ought.  The chief officers of this treasury are masters of\nceremonies, vagabonds, genealogists, bards, orators, flatterers, dancers,\ntailors, mantua-makers, and the like.\"  From this great street we\nproceeded to the next, where the princess Lucre reigns; it was a full and\nprodigiously wealthy street, yet not half so splendid and clean as the\nstreet of Pride, nor its people half so bold and lofty looking; for they\nwere skulking mean-looking fellows, for the most part.\n\nThere were in this street thousands of Spaniards, Hollanders, Venetians,\nand Jews, and a great many aged, decrepit people were also there.  \"Pray,\nsir,\" said I, \"what kind of men are these?\"  \"They have all gain in\nview,\" said he.  \"At the lowest extremity, on one side, you will still\nsee the Pope; also subduers of kingdoms and their soldiers, oppressors,\nforesters, shutters up of the common foot-paths, justices and their\nbribers, and the whole race of lawyers down to the catchpole.  On the\nother side,\" said he, \"there are physicians, apothecaries, doctors,\nmisers, merchants, extortioners, usurers, refusers to pay tithes, wages,\nrents, or alms which were left to schools and charity houses; purveyors\nand chapmen who keep and raise the market to their own price; shopkeepers\n(or sharpers) who make money out of the necessity or ignorance of the\nbuyer; stewards of every degree, sturdy beggars, taverners who plunder\nthe families of careless men of their property, and the country of its\nbarley for the bread of the poor.  All these are thieves of the first\nwater,\" said he; \"and the rest are petty thieves, for the most part, and\nkeep at the upper end of the street; they consist of highway robbers,\ntailors, weavers, millers, measurers of wet and dry, and the like.\"  In\nthe midst of this discourse, I heard a prodigious tumult at the lower end\nof the street, where there was a huge crowd of people thronging towards\nthe gate, with such pushing and disputing as caused me to imagine that\nthere was a general fray on foot, until I demanded of my friend what was\nthe matter.  \"There is an exceeding great treasure in that tower,\" said\nthe angel, \"and all that concourse is for the purpose of choosing a\ntreasurer to the princess, in lieu of the Pope, who has been turned out\nof that office.\"  So we went to see the election.\n\nThe men who were competing for the office were the _Stewards_, the\n_Usurers_, the _Lawyers_, and the _Merchants_, and the richest of the\nwhole was to obtain it, because the more you have the more you shall\ncrave, is the epidemic curse of the street.  The Stewards were rejected\nat the first offer, lest they should impoverish the whole street, and, as\nthey had raised their palaces on the ruins of their masters, lest they\nshould in the end turn the princess out of her possession; then the\ndispute arose between the three others; the Merchants had the most silks,\nthe Lawyers most mortgages on lands, and the Usurers the greatest number\nof full bags, and bills and bonds.  \"Ha! they will not agree to night,\"\nsaid the angel, \"so come away; the Lawyers are richer than the Merchants,\nthe Usurers are richer than the Lawyers, and the Stewards than the\nUsurers, and Belial than the whole, for he owns them all, and their\nproperty too.\"\n\n\"For what reason is the princess keeping these thieves about her?\" I\ndemanded.  \"What can be more proper,\" said he, \"when she herself is the\narrantest of thieves.\"  I was astonished to hear him call the princess\nthus, and the greatest potentates thieves of the first water.  \"Pray, my\nlord,\" said I, \"how can you call those illustrious people greater thieves\nthan robbers on the highway?\"  \"You are but a dupe,\" said he; \"is not the\nvillain who goes over the world with his sword in his hand and his\nplunderers behind him, burning and slaying, wresting kingdoms from their\nright owners, and looking forward to be adored as a conqueror, worse than\nthe rogue who takes a purse upon the highway?  What is the tailor who\ncabbages a piece of cloth, to the great man who takes a piece out of the\nparish common?  Ought not the latter to be called a thief of the first\nwater, or ten times more a rogue than the other?--the tailor merely takes\nsnips of cloth from his customer, whilst the other takes from the poor\nman the sustenance of his beast, and by so doing the sustenance of\nhimself and his little ones--what is taking a handful of flour at the\nmill, to keeping a hundred sacksfull to putrify, in order to obtain\nafterwards a four-fold price?--what is the half-naked soldier who takes\nyour garment away with his sword, to the lawyer, who takes your whole\nestate from you with a goose's quill, without any claim or bond upon\nit?--and what is the pickpocket who takes five pounds, to the cogger of\ndice who will cheat you of a hundred in the third part of a night?--and\nwhat is the jockey who tricks you in some old unsound horse, to the\napothecary who chouses you of your money, and your life also with some\nold unwholesome physic?--and yet what are all these thieves to the\nmistress-thief there, who takes away from the whole all these things, and\ntheir hearts and their souls at the end of the fair?\"  From this dirty,\ndisorderly street we proceeded to the street of the princess Pleasure, in\nwhich I beheld a number of Britons, French, Italians, Pagans, &c.  She\nwas a princess exceedingly beautiful to the eye, with a cup of drugged\nwine in the one hand, and a crown and a harp in the other.  In her\ntreasury there were numberless pleasures and pretty things to obtain the\ncustom of every body, and to keep them in the service of her father.  Yea!\nthere were many who escaped to this charming street, to cast off the\nmelancholy arising from their losses and debts in the other streets.  It\nwas a street prodigiously crowded, especially with young people; and the\nprincess was careful to please every body, and to keep an arrow adapted\nto every mark.  If you are thirsty, you can have here your choice of\ndrink; if you love dancing and singing, you can get here your fill.  If\nher comeliness entice you to lust for the body of a female, she has only\nto lift up her finger to one of the officers of her father, (who surround\nher at all times, though invisibly), and they will fetch you a lass in a\nminute, or the _body_ of a harlot newly buried, and will go into her in\nlieu of a _soul_, rather than you should abandon so good a design.\n\nHere there are handsome houses with very pleasant gardens, teeming\norchards, and shadowy groves, adapted to all kinds of secret meetings, in\nwhich one can hunt birds and a certain fair coney; here there are\ndelightful rivers for fishing, and wide fields hedged around, in which it\nis pleasant to hunt the hare and fox.  All along the street you could see\nfarces being acted, juggling going on, and all kinds of tricks of\nlegerdemain; there was plenty of licentious music, vocal and\ninstrumental, ballad singing, and every species of merriment; there was\nno lack of male and female beauty, singing and dancing; and there were\nhere many from the street of Pride, who came to receive praise and\nadoration.  In the interior of the houses I could see people on beds of\nsilk and down, wallowing in voluptuousness; some were engaged at billiard-\nplaying, and were occasionally swearing or cursing the table keeper;\nothers were rattling the dice or shuffling the cards.  My guide pointed\nout to me some from the street of Lucre, who had chambers in this street;\nthey had run hither to reckon their money, but they did not tarry long\nlest some of the innumerable tempting things to be met with here should\ninduce them to part with their pelf, without usury.  I could see throngs\nof individuals feasting, with something of every creature before them;\noh, how every one did gorge, swallowing mess after mess of dainties,\nsufficient to have feasted a moderate man for three weeks, and when they\ncould eat no more, they belched out a thanks for what they had received,\nand then gave the health of the king and every jolly companion; after\nwhich, they drowned the savour of the food, and their cares besides, in\nan ocean of wine; then they called for tobacco, and began telling stories\nof their neighbours--and, I observed, that all the stories were well\nreceived, whether true or false, provided they were amusing and of late\ndate, above all if they contained plenty of scandal: there they sat, each\nwith his clay pistol puffing forth fire and smoke, and slander to his\nneighbour.  At length I was fain to request my guide to permit me to move\non; the floor was impure with saliva and spilt drink, and I was\napprehensive that certain heavy hiccups which I heard, might be merely\nthe prelude to something more disagreeable.\n\nFrom thence we went to a place where we heard a terrible noise, a medley\nof striking, jabbering, crying and laughing, shouting and singing.\n\"Here's Bedlam, doubtless,\" said I.  By the time we entered the den the\nbrawling had ceased.  Of the company, one was on the ground insensible;\nanother was in a yet more deplorable condition; another was nodding over\na hearthful of battered pots, pieces of pipes, and oozings of ale.  And\nwhat was all this, upon enquiry, but a carousal of seven thirsty\nneighbours--a goldsmith, a pilot, a smith, a miner, a chimney-sweeper, a\npoet, and a parson who had come to preach sobriety, and to exhibit in\nhimself what a disgusting thing drunkenness is.  The origin of the last\nsquabble was a dispute which had arisen among them, about which of the\nseven loved a pipe and flagon best.  The poet had carried the day over\nall the rest, with the exception of the parson, who, out of respect for\nhis cloth, had the most votes, being placed at the head of the jolly\ncompanions--the poet singing:--\n\n   \"Oh, where are there seven beneath the sky,\n   Who with these seven for thirst can vie?\n   But the best for good ale, these seven among,\n   Are the jolly divine, and the son of song.\"\n\nDisgusted with these drunken swine, we went nearer to the gate, to take a\npeep at the follies of the palace of _Love_, the purblind king; it is a\nplace easy to enter and difficult to escape from, and in it there is a\nprodigious number of chambers.  In the hall opposite to the door was\ninsane Cupid, with his two arrows upon his bow, shooting tormenting\npoison, which is called _bliss_.  Upon the floor I could see many fair\ndamsels, finely dressed, walking about, and behind them a parcel of\nmiserable youths gazing upon their beauty, and each eager to obtain a\nglance from his mistress, fearing her frown far worse than death.  One\nwas bending to the ground and placing a letter in the hands of his\ngoddess; another a piece of music, all in fearful expectation, like\nschool-boys showing their tasks to their master; and the damsels would\nglance back upon them a smile, to keep up the fervour of their adorers,\nbut nothing more, lest they should lose their desire, become cured of\ntheir wound and depart.  On going forward to the parlour, I beheld\nfemales learning to dance and to sing, and to play on instruments, for\nthe purpose of making their lovers seven times more foolish than they\nwere already: on going to the buttery, I found them taking lessons in\ndelicacy and propriety of eating: on going to the cellar, I saw them\nmaking up potent love drinks, from nail-parings and the like: on going to\nthe chambers, we beheld a fellow in a secret apartment, putting himself\ninto all kinds of attitudes, to teach his beloved elegant manners;\nanother learning in a glass to laugh in a becoming manner, without\nshowing to his love too much of his teeth; another we found embellishing\nhis tale before going to her, and repeating the same lesson a hundred\ntimes.  Tired of this insiped folly, I went to another chamber, where\nthere was a nobleman, who had sent for a bard from the street of Pride,\nto compose a eulogistic strain on his angel, and a laudatory ode on\nhimself; the bard was haranguing upon his talent--\"I can,\" said he,\n\"compare her to all the red and white under the sun, and say that her\nhair is a hundredfold more yellow than gold; and as for your ode, I can\ncarry your genealogy through the bowels of an infinity of knights and\nprinces, and through the waters of the deluge, even as high up as Adam.\"\n\"Lo!\" said I, \"here is a bard who is a better inventor than myself.\"\n\"Come away, come away,\" said the angel, \"these people are thinking to\nbamboozle the woman, but when they go to her, they will be sure to obtain\nfrom her as good as they bring.\"\n\nOn leaving these people, we caught a glimpse of some cells, where more\nobscene practices were going on than modesty will suffer me to mention,\nwhich caused my companion to snatch me away in wrath, from this palace of\nwhimsicality and wantonness, to the treasury of the princess, (because we\nwent where we pleased, in spite of doors and locks.)  There we beheld a\nmultitude of beautiful damsels, all sorts of drink, fruit, and dainties;\nall kinds of instruments and books of music, harps, pipes, poems, carols,\n&c.; all kinds of games of chance, draught-boards, dice-boxes, dice,\ncards, &c.; all kinds of models of banquets and mansions, figures of men,\ncontrivances and amusements; all kinds of waters, perfumes, colors and\nsalves to make the ugly handsome, and the old look young, and to make the\nharlot and her putrid bones sweet for a time.\n\nTo be brief, there were here all kinds of _shadows_ of pleasure, all\nkinds of _seeming_ delight; and to tell the truth, I believe this place\nwould have ensnared me, had not my friend, without ceremony, snatched me\nfar away from the three deceitful towers, to the upper end of the street,\nand set me down by a castellated palace of prodigious size, and very\nagreeable at first sight, but vile and terribly revolting on the farthest\nside, though it was only seen with great difficulty on the side of its\ndeformity; it had a multitude of doors, and all the doors were splendid\non the outside, but filthy within.  \"Pray, my lord,\" said I, \"if it\nplease you, what is this wonderful place?\"  \"This,\" said he, \"is the\npalace of another daughter of Belial, who is called _Hypocrisy_; she here\nkeeps her school; there is not a youth or damsel within the whole city,\nthat has not been her scholar, and the people in general, have so well\nimbibed what she has taught, that her lessons have become a second\nnature, and intertwined with all their thoughts, words and actions,\nalmost since the time of their childhood.\"  After I had inspected for a\ntime the falsehood of every corner of the edifice, a procession passed by\nwith a deal of weeping and groaning, and many men and horses dight in\nhabits of deep mourning.  Presently came a wretched widow, closely\nmuffled, in order that she might look no more on this vile world; she was\nfeebly crying, and groaning slowly in the intervals of fainting\nfits--verily, I could not help weeping myself, out of pity.  \"Pooh,\npooh,\" said the angel, \"keep your tears for something more worthy; these\nfaintings are only a lesson of Hypocrisy, and in her great school these\nblack garments were fashioned.  There is not one of these people weeping\nseriously; the widow, before the body left the house, had wedded another\nman, in her heart; and if she could get rid of the expense attending the\nbody, she would not care a rush if the soul of her husband were at the\nbottom of hell; nor would her relations, more than herself; because when\nhis disease was hardest upon him, instead of giving him salutary counsel\nand praying fervently, for the Lord to have mercy upon him, they only\ntalked to him about his effects, and about his testament, or his\npedigree, or what a handsome vigorous man he had been, and the like; so\nall this lamenting is mere sham--some are mourning in obedience to custom\nand habit, others for company's sake, and others for hire.\"\n\nScarcely had this procession passed by, when, lo, another crowd came in\nsight.  A certain nobleman, prodigiously magnificient, and his lady at\nhis side, were going along in state; many respectable men were capping\nthem, and there were a thousand also behind them, shewing them every kind\nof submission and reverence, and by the _favours_, I perceived that it\nwas a wedding: \"He must be a very exalted nobleman,\" said I, \"who merits\nso much respect from all these people.\"  \"If you should consider the\nwhole, you would say something quite different,\" said my guide; \"that\nnobleman is one from the street of Pleasure; and the female, is a damsel\nfrom the street of Pride, and the old man yonder, who is speaking with\nhim, is one from the street of Lucre, who has lent money upon nearly all\nthe land of the nobleman, and is to-day come to settle accounts.\"  We\ndrew nigh to hear the conversation.\n\n\"Verily, sir,\" says the usurer, \"I would not for all I possess, that you\nshould want any thing that I can offer, in order that you may appear to-\nday like yourself, especially since you have met with a lady so amiable\nand illustrious as this.\"  (The subtle old dog knowing perfectly well\nwhat she was all the time.)  \"By the Lord above,\" said the nobleman, \"the\nnext greatest pleasure, to looking at her beauty, is to listen to your\nobliging discourse; I would rather pay you usury than obtain money gratis\nfrom any one else.\"  \"Of a surety, my lord,\" said one of his principal\nassociates, who was called flatterer, \"my uncle shows you no respect but\nwhat is fully your right; but with your permission, I will assert, that\nhe has not bestowed half the commendation on her ladyship which she\ndeserves.  I cannot myself produce, and I will defy any man to produce\none lovelier than herself, in the whole street of Pride; nor one more\ngallant than you, my lord, in the whole street of Pleasure; nor one more\ncourteous than you, dear uncle, in the whole street of Lucre.\"  \"Oh, that\nis only your good opinion,\" replied the lord, \"but I certainly believe\nthat two never came together with more mutual love than we.\"  As they\nproceeded, the crowd increased, and every one had a fair smile and a low\nbow for the other, and forward they ran to meet each other with their\nnoses to the ground, like two cocks going to engage.  \"Know now,\" said\nthe angel, \"that you have not yet seen a _bow_ here, nor heard a _word_,\nthat did not belong to the lessons of Hypocrisy.  There is not here one,\nafter all this courtesy, that has a farthing's worth of love for the\nother; indeed they are for the most part enemies to one another.  The\nnobleman here is only a butt amongst them, and every one has his hit at\nhim.  The lady has her mind fixed upon his _grandeur_ and his _nobility_,\nwhereby she hopes to obtain precedence over many of her acquaintances.\nThe miser has his eye upon his _land_, for his own son; and the others,\nto a man, on the money, which he is to receive as her portion, because\nthey are all his subjects, that is, his merchants, his tailors, his\nshoemakers, or his other tradesmen, who have arrayed him and maintained\nhim in all this great splendour, without yet obtaining one farthing, nor\nany thing but fair words, and now and then, threats perhaps.  Now observe\nhow many masks, how many twists, Hypocrisy has given to the face of the\ntruth?  He is promising grandeur to his love, having already disposed of\nhis land; and she is promising portion and purity, whereas she has no\npurity, but purity of dress, and as for her portion it will not be long\nin existence, there being an inveterate cancer in it, even as there is in\nher own body.\"\n\n\"Well, here is a proof,\" said I, \"that one never ought to judge by\nappearances.\"  \"Yes,\" said he, \"but come away, and I will show you\nsomething more.\"  Whereupon he transported me up to where stood the\nchurches of the city of Perdition, for every body in it had an appearance\nof faith, even in the age of Disbelief.  First we went to the temple of\nHeathenism, where I could see some adoring the form of a man, others that\nof the sun, others that of the moon, and an innumerable quantity of\nsimilar other gods, even down to leek and garlick, and a great goddess\ntermed _Delusion_, obtaining general adoration, although you might see\nsomething of the remnants of the Christian faith amongst some of these\npeople.  Thence we went to a meeting of Dummies, where there was nothing\nbut groaning, and shivering, and beating the breast.  \"Though there is\nhere,\" said the angel, \"an appearance of repentance and great submission,\nthere is nothing in reality, but opinionativeness and obstinacy, and\npride, and thick, thick darkness.  Notwithstanding they talk so much\nabout their _internal light_, they have not even the spectacle-glasses of\nnature which the heathens have, whom you lately saw.\"  From these dumb\ndogs we chanced to turn to a large church open at the top, with a\nprodigious number of sandals {23} at the gate, by which I knew that it\nwas the temple of the Turks; these people had only a dim and motley\ncolored spectacle glass, which they called the Koran, yet through this\nthey were always gazing up to the top of the church for their prophet,\nwho, according to the promise which he gave them, ought to have returned\nto them long ago, but has not yet made his appearance.  From there we\nwent to the church of the Jews, people who had failed to find the way of\nescape from the city of Perdition, although they possessed a pure, clear\nspectacle glass, on account of a film having come over their eyes from\nlong gazing, for want of having anointed them with the precious ointment,\n_faith_.  We next went to that of the Papists.  \"Behold,\" said the angel,\n\"the church which _deceiveth the nations_!  Hypocrisy has built this\nchurch at her own expense; for the Papists permit, yea enjoin the\nbreaking of any oath made to a heretic, although it were taken upon the\nsacrament.\"  From the chancel we passed through key-holes to the upper\nend of a cell which stood apart, full of burning candles at mid-day,\nwhere we perceived a priest with his crown shaven, walking about as if he\nwere in expectation of visitors; presently there came a rotund figure of\na woman, and a very pretty girl behind her, and they went upon their\nknees before him to confess their sins.  \"My spiritual father,\" said the\ngood woman, \"I labour under a burden too heavy to be borne, unless you in\nyour mercy will lighten it; I married a member of the church of England,\nand\"--\"What,\" said the shaven crown, \"married a heretic! married an\nenemy! there is no pardon for you, now or ever.\"  At this word she\nfainted, and he vociferated curses at her.  \"Oh, and what is worse,\" said\nshe when she revived.  \"I have killed him!\"  \"O, ho! you have killed him,\nwell that is something towards obtaining reconciliation with the church;\nbut I assure you, that unless you had killed him, you would never have\ngot absolution, nor purgatory, but would have gone plump to the devil.\nBut where is your offering to the cloister?\" said he, snarling.  \"Here,\"\nshe replied, and handed him a pretty big purse of money.  \"Well,\" said\nhe, \"I will now make your peace, and your penance is to remain a widow as\nlong as you live, lest you should make another bad bargain.\"  As soon as\nshe had departed, the damsel came forward to make her confession.  \"Your\npardon, my father confessor,\" said she, \"I have borne a child and\nmurdered it.\"  \"Very fair, in troth,\" said the confessor, \"and who was\nthe father?\"  \"Verily,\" said she, \"it was one of your monastery\"--\"Hush,\nhush,\" said he, \"no scandal against the men of the church: but where is\nyour atonement to the church?\"  \"There,\" said she, handing him a gold\ncoin.  \"You must repent, and your penance is to watch to night by my\nbedside,\" said he, smiling archly upon her.\n\nAt this moment appeared four other bald-pates, hauling in a lad to the\nconfessor, the poor fellow looking as pleased as if he were going to the\ngallows.  \"We have brought you a cub,\" said one of the four, \"that you\nmay award him a proper punishment for revealing the secrets of the\ncatholic church.\"  \"What secrets?\" said the confessor, looking towards a\nmurky cell which was nigh at hand.  \"But confess villain, what did you\nsay?\"  \"In truth,\" said the wretch, \"one of my acquaintances asked me, if\nI had seen the _souls_ shrieking beneath the altar, _on the day of the\nfestival of the dead_?  And I said, that I had heard the voice, but that\nI had seen nothing.\"  \"Ah, sir, say the whole,\" said one of the others.\n\"But I added,\" said he, \"that I had heard that you were only deceiving us\nignorant people, and that instead of souls shrieking, there were only sea-\ncrabs crackling beneath the carpet,\"--\"O son of the fiend! blasphemous\nmonster!\" said the confessor; \"but proceed caitiff.\"--\"and that it was a\nwire which turned the image of saint Peter,\" said the fellow, \"and that\nit was by the wire that the Holy Ghost descended from the gallery of the\ncross upon the priest.\"  \"O heritage of hell!\" said the confessor.  \"So\nho here! take him torturers, and cast him into the smoky chimney yonder\nfor telling tales.\"  \"Here you see,\" said the angel, \"the church which\nHypocrisy desires should be called the Catholic Church, and the members\nof which she would fain have the world consider, as the only people\ndestined to be saved; it must be owned, indeed, that they had the true\nspectacle-glass, but they spoiled it by cutting upon the glass numerous\nimages; and they had true faith, but they mingled that precious ointment\nwith their own novel inventions, so that at present they see no more than\nthe heathen.\"  Thence we went to a barn, where stood a pert, conceited\nfellow preaching with great glibness, frequently repeating the same thing\nthree times.  \"This man and his hearers,\" said the angel, \"possess the\ntrue spectacle-glass, to see the things which pertain to their peace, but\nthey lack now in their old age, a very essential matter which is called\nperfect love.  Various are the causes which drive folks hither; some come\nout of respect to their forefathers, some out of ignorance, and many for\nworldly advantage.  They will make you believe with their faces that they\nare being strangled, but they can swallow a toad if necessary; and thus\nthe princess Hypocrisy does not disdain to teach some in barns.\"  \"Pray,\"\nsaid I, \"where now is the _Church of England_?\"  \"O,\" said he, \"in the\ncity high above, it constitutes a great part of the _Catholic Church_,\nand in the city here below, there are some probationary churches\nbelonging to it, where the English and Welsh are under probation for a\ntime, in order to become qualified to have their names written in the\nbook of the Catholic Church, and they who become so, _blessed are they\nfor ever_.  But alas, there are but very few who are adapting themselves\nto obtain honour above; because, instead of looking thitherward, too many\nsuffer themselves to be blinded by the three princesses below, and\nHypocrisy keeps many with one eye upon the city above, and the other on\nthat below; yea, Hypocrisy has succeeded in enticing many from their\npath, after they have overcome the three other deceivers.  Come in here,\"\nsaid he, \"and you will see something more;\" whereupon he carried me to\nthe gallery of one of the churches in Wales, the people being in the\nmidst of the service.  And lo! some were whispering, talking and\nlaughing; some looking upon the pretty women; others were examining the\ndress of their neighbours from top to toe; some were pushing themselves\nforward and snarling at one another about rank; some were dozing; others\nwere busily engaged in their devotions, but many of these were playing a\nhypocritical part.  \"You have not seen yet,\" said the angel, \"no, not\namongst the infidels, shamelessness as open and barefaced as this: but\nthus, alas, we see _that the corruption of the best thing is the\ncorruption worst of all_.\"  The congregation then proceeded to take the\nsacrament, and every one displayed reverential feelings at the altar.\n\nHowever, (through the glass of my companion,) I could see one receiving\nthe bread into his belly, under the figure of a _mastiff_, another under\nthat of a _swine_, another like a _mole_, another like a _winged\nserpent_, and a few, O how very few, receiving a ray of celestial light\nwith the bread and the wine.  \"Yonder,\" said he, \"is a roundhead who is\nabout to become sheriff, and because the law enjoins, that every one\nshall receive the communion in the church before he obtains the office,\nhe has come hither rather than lose it; but though there are many here\nwho rejoice at seeing him, there has been no joy amongst us for his\nconversion, for he has only turned for the time; and thus you see how\nbold Hypocrisy must be to present herself at the altar before Emmanuel,\nwho is not to be deceived.  But however great she be in the city of\nPerdition, she can effect nothing in the city of Emmanuel, above the wall\nyonder.\"\n\nThereupon we turned our faces from the great city of Perdition, and went\nup to the other little city.  In going along I could see at the upper end\nof the streets, many turning half-way from the temptations of the _gates\nof Perdition_, and seeking for the _gate of Life_; but whether it was\nthat they failed to find it, or grew tired upon the way, I could not see\nthat any went through, except one sorrowful faced man, who ran forward\nresolutely, while thousands on each side of him were calling him fool,\nsome scoffing him, others threatening, him and his friends laying hold\nupon him, and entreating him not to take a step by which he would lose\nthe whole world at once.  \"I only lose,\" said he, \"a very small portion\nof it, and if I should lose the whole, pray what loss is it?  For what is\nthere in the world so desirable, unless a man should desire deceit, and\nviolence, and misery, and wretchedness, giddiness and distraction.\n_Contentment and tranquillity_,\" said he, \"constitute the happiness of\nman; but in your city there are no such things to be found.  Because who\nis there here content with his station?  _Higher_, _higher_, is what\nevery one endeavours to be in the street of _Pride_; give, give us a\nlittle more, says every one in the street of _Lucre_; sweet, sweet, pray\ngive me some more of it, is the cry of every one in the street of\n_Pleasure_.  And as for tranquillity, where is it? and who obtains it?  If\nyou be a great man, flattery and envy are killing you; if you be poor,\nevery one is trampling upon and despising you; after having become an\ninventor, if you exalt your head and seek for praise, you will be called\na boaster and a coxcomb; if you lead a godly life and resort to the\nchurch and the altar, you will be called a hypocrite; if you do not, then\nyou are an infidel or a heretic; if you be merry, you will be called a\nbuffoon; if you are silent, you will be called a morose wretch; if you\nfollow honesty, you are nothing but a simple fool; if you go neat, you\nare proud, if not, a swine; if you are smooth speaking, then you are\nfalse, or a trifler without meaning; if you are rough, you are an\narrogant, disagreeable devil.  Behold the world that you magnify,\" said\nhe, \"pray take my share of it.\"  Whereupon he shook himself loose from\nthem all, and away he went undauntedly to the narrow gate, and in spite\nof every obstacle he pushed his way through, we following him; while many\nmen dressed in black upon the walls, on both sides of the gate, kept\ninviting the man and praising him.  \"Who,\" said I, \"are the men above\ndressed in black?\"  \"The watchmen of the king Emmanuel,\" replied the\nangel, \"who, in the name of their master, are inviting people and\nassisting them through this gate.\"\n\nBy this time we were by the gate; it was very low and narrow, and mean in\ncomparison with the lower gates.  On the two sides of the door were the\n_ten commandments_; upon the first slab on the right side was written,\n\"_love the Lord with thy whole heart_, _&c._,\" and upon the second slab\non the other side, \"love thy neighbour as thyself;\" and above the whole,\n\"_love not the world nor the things which are therein_.\"  I had not\nlooked long before the watchmen began to cry out to the men of Perdition,\n\"Flee! flee, for your lives!\"  Only a very few turned towards them once,\nsome of whom asked, \"flee from what?\"  \"From the prince of this world,\nwho reigns in the children of disobedience,\" said the watchman; \"flee\nfrom the pollutions which are in the world through the lusts of the\nflesh, the lusts of the eyes, and the vanities of life; flee from the\nwrath which is coming to overwhelm you!\"  \"What,\" exclaimed the other\nwatchman, \"is your beloved city but a vast glowing roof cast over Hell,\nand if you were here, you might see the fire on the farther side of your\nwalls kindling, to burn you down into Hell.\"  Some mocked them, others\nthreatened to stone them unless they ceased their unmannerly prate; but\nsome few asked, \"whither shall we fly?\"  \"Hither,\" said the watchman,\n\"fly hither to your lawful king, who yet offers you pardon through us, if\nyou return to your obedience, and abandon the rebel Belial and his\ndeceitful daughters.  Though their appearance is so splendid, it is only\ndeception; Belial at home is but a very poor prince, he has only you for\nfuel, and only you as roast and boiled to gnaw, and you are never\nsufficient, and there will never be an end to his hunger and your\ntorments.  And who would serve such a malicious butcher, in a temporary\ndelirium here, and in eternal torments hereafter, who could obtain a life\nof happiness under a king merciful and charitable to his subjects, who is\never doing towards them the good offices of a shepherd, and endeavouring\nto keep them from Belial, in order finally to give to each of them the\nkingdom in the country of Light?  O fools! will ye take the horrible\nenemy whose throat is burning with thirst for your blood, instead of the\ncompassionate prince who has given his own blood to assist you?\"  But it\ndid not appear that these reasonings, which were sufficient to soften a\nrock, proved of much advantage to them, and the principal cause of their\nbeing so unsuccessful was, that not many had leisure to hear, the greater\npart being employed in looking at the gates; and of those who did hear,\nthere were not many who heeded, and of those there were not many who long\nremembered; some would not believe that it was Belial whom they were\nserving, others could not conceive that yonder little, untrodden passage\nwas the gate of Life, and would not believe that the three other\nglittering gates were delusion, the castle preventing them from seeing\ntheir destruction till they rushed upon it.\n\nAt this moment there came a troop of people from the street of Pride, and\nknocked at the gate with great confidence but they were all so\nstiffnecked, that they could never go into a place so low, without\nsoiling their perriwigs and their plumes, so they walked back in great\nill humour.  At the tail of these came a party from the street of Lucre.\nSaid one, \"is this the gate of Life?\"  \"Yea,\" replied the watchmen who\nwere above.  \"What is to be done,\" said he, \"in order to pass through?\"\n\"Read on each side of the door, and you will learn.\"  The miser read the\nten commandments.  \"Who,\" he cried, \"will say, that I have broken one of\nthese?\"  But on looking aloft and seeing, \"_love not the world_, _nor the\nthings that are therein_,\" he started, and could not swallow that\ndifficult sentence.  There was among them an envious pig-tail who turned\nback on reading, \"_love thy neighbour as thyself_;\" and a perjurer, and a\nslanderer turned abruptly back on reading, \"_bear not false witness_;\"\nsome physicians on reading, \"_thou shalt commit no murder_,\" exclaimed\n\"this is no place for us.\"  To be brief, every one saw there something\nwhich troubled him, so they all went back to chew the cud.  I may add,\nthat there was not one of these people, but had so many bags and writings\nstuck about him, that he could never have gone through a place so narrow,\neven if he had made the attempt.\n\nPresently there came a drove from the street of Pleasure walking towards\nthe gate.  \"Please to inform us,\" said one to the watchman, \"to what\nplace this road is leading?\"  \"This is the road,\" said the watchman,\n\"which leads to eternal joy and happiness;\" whereupon they all strove to\nget through, but they failed, for some had too much belly for a place so\nnarrow; others were too weak to push, having been enfeebled by women, who\nimpeded them moreover with their foolish whims.  \"O,\" said the watchman\nwho was looking upon them, \"it is of no use for you to attempt to go\nthrough with your vain toys; you must leave your pots, and your dishes,\nand your harlots, and all your other ware behind you, and then make\nhaste.\"  \"How should we live then?\" said the fiddler, who would have been\nthrough long ago, but for fear of breaking his instrument.  \"O,\" said the\nwatchman, \"you must take the word of the king, for sending you whatsover\nthings may be for your advantage.\"  \"Hey, hey,\" said one, \"_a bird in the\nhand is worth two in the bush_;\" and thereupon they all unanimously\nturned back.\n\n\"Come through now,\" said the angel, and he drew me in, and the first\nthing I saw in the porch was a large baptismal font, and by the side of\nit a spring of saline water.  \"Why is this here at the entrance of the\nroad?\" said I.  \"It is here,\" said the angel, \"because every one must\nwash himself therein, previous to obtaining honour in the palace of\nEmmanuel; it is termed the _fountain of repentance_.\"  Above I could see\nwritten, \"_this is the gate of the Lord_, &c.\"  The porch and also the\nstreet expanded, and became less difficult as one went forward.  When we\nhad gone a little way up the street I could hear a soft voice behind me\nsaying, \"_this is the road_, _walk in it_.\"  The street was up-hill but\nwas very clean and straight, and though the houses were lower here than\nin the city of _Perdition_, yet they were more pleasant.  If there is\nhere less wealth, there is also less strife and care; if there are fewer\ndishes, there are fewer diseases; if there is less noise, there is also\nless sadness, and more pure joy.  I was surprised at the calmness and the\ndelightful tranquillity that reigned here, so little resembling what I\nhad found below.  Instead of swearing and cursing, buffoonery,\ndebauchery, and drunkenness; instead of pride and vanity, torpor in the\none corner, and riot in the other; instead of all the loud broiling, and\nthe boasting and bustling, and chattering, which were incessantly\nstupifying a man yonder; and instead of the numberless constant evils to\nbe found below, you here saw sobriety, affability and cheerfulness, peace\nand thankfulness, clemency, innocence, and content upon the face of every\nbody.  No weeping here, except for the pollutions pervading the city of\nthe enemy; no hatred or anger, except against sin; and that same hatred\nand anger against sin, always accompanied with a certainty of being able\nto subdue it; no fear but of incensing the King, who was ever more ready\nto forgive than be angry with his subjects; and here there was no sound\nbut of psalms of praise to the heavenly guardian.\n\nBy this time we had come in sight of a building superlatively beautiful.\nO, how glorious it was!  No one in the city of Perdition--neither the\nTurk nor the Mogul, nor any of the others, possessed any thing equal to\nit.  \"Behold the _Catholic Church_!\" said the angel.  \"Is it here that\nEmmanuel keeps his court?\" said I.  \"Yes,\" he replied, \"this is his only\nterrestrial palace.\"  \"Has he any crowned heads under him?\" said I.  \"A\nfew,\" was the answer.  \"There are your good queen Anne, and some princes\nof Denmark and Germany, and a few of the other small princes.\"  \"What are\nthey,\" said I, \"compared with those who are under Belial the Great?  He\nhas emperors and kings without number.\"  \"Notwithstanding all this;\" said\nthe angel, \"not one of them can move a finger without the permission of\nEmmanuel, nor Belial himself either, because Emmanuel is his lawful king;\nBelial rebelled, and for his rebellion was made a captive, with\npermission however to visit for a little time the city of Perdition, and\ndelude any one he could into his own rebellion and a share of his\npunishment.  So great is his malice, that he is continually using this\npermission, though aware that by so doing he will only add to his own\nmisery; and so great is his love of wickedness, that he takes advantage\nof his half liberty, to seek to destroy this city and this edifice,\nthough he has long known that their guardian is invincible.\"\n\n\"Pray, my lord,\" said I, \"may we approach and take a more minute view of\nthis magnificent palace?\" for my heart had warmed towards the place at\nthe first sight.  \"Certainly you may,\" said the angel, \"because there I\nhave my place, charge, and employment.\"  The nearer we went to it, the\nmore I wondered, seeing how lofty, strong, beautiful, pure, and lovely\nevery part of it was; how accurate was the workmanship, and how fair were\nits materials.  A rock wrought with immense labour, and of prodigious\nstrength was the foundation stone; living stones were placed upon this\nrock, and were cemented in so admirable a manner, that it was impossible\nfor one stone to be so beautiful in another place, as it was in its own.\nI could see one part of the _church_ which cast out a very fair and\nremarkable cross, and the angel perceiving me gazing upon it asked me \"if\nI knew that part.\"  I did not know what to answer.  \"That is the _Church\nof England_,\" said he.  These words made me observe it with more\nattention than before, and on looking up I could perceive queen Anne, on\nthe pinnacle of the building, with a sword in each hand.  With the one in\nher left, which is called Justice, she preserves her subjects from the\nmen of the city of Perdition; and with the other in her right, which is\nthe sword of the Spirit, or the word of God, she preserves them from\nBelial and his spiritual evils.  Under the left sword were the _Laws of\nEngland_; under the other was a large _Bible_.  The sword of the Spirit\nwas fiery and of prodigious length, it would kill at a distance to which\nthe other sword could not reach.  I observed the other princes with the\nsame arms, defending their portions of the church; but I could see that\nthe portion of my queen was the fairest, and that her arms were the most\nbright.  By her right hand, I could see a multitude of people in\nblack--archbishops, bishops, and teachers, assisting her in sustaining\nthe sword of the Spirit; and some of the soldiers and civil officers, and\na few, very few of the lawyers, supporting, along with her, the other\nsword.  I obtained permission to rest a little by one of the magnificent\ndoors, whither people were coming to obtain the dignity of the _universal\nchurch_; a tall angel was keeping the door, and the church within side\nwas so vividly light, that it was useless for _Hypocrisy_ to show her\nvisage there--she sometimes appeared at the door, but never went in.\nAfter I had been gazing about a quarter of an hour, there came a\n_papist_, who imagined that the Pope possessed the catholic church, and\nhe claimed his share of dignity.  \"What proof of your dignity have you?\"\nsaid the porter.  \"I have plenty,\" said he, \"of _traditions of the\nfathers_, and _acts of the congresses of the church_; but what further\nassurance do I need, than the word of the Pope, who sits upon the\ninfallible chair?\"  Then the porter proceeded to open an exceedingly\nlarge Bible.  \"Behold,\" said he, \"the only Statute Book which we use\nhere, prove your claim out of that, or depart;\" whereupon he departed.\n\nAt this moment there came a drove of Quakers, who wanted to go in with\ntheir hats upon their heads, but they were turned back for their\nunmannerly behaviour.  After that, some of the children of the barn, who\nhad been there for some time, began to speak.  \"We have,\" said they, \"no\nother statute than you, therefore show us our dignity.\"  \"Stay,\" said the\nglittering porter, looking them fixedly in the face, \"and I will show you\nsomething.  Do you see yonder,\" said he, \"the rent which you made in the\nchurch, that you might go out of it, without the slightest cause or\nreason? and now, what do you want here?  Go back to the narrow gate, wash\nyourselves well in the fountain of repentance, in order to free\nyourselves from some of the kingly blood, in which you steeped yourselves\nformerly; bring some of that water to moisten the clay, to close up the\nrent yonder, and then, and then only, you shall be welcome.\"  But before\nwe had proceeded a rood farther towards the west, we heard a buzz amongst\nthe princes above, and every one, great and small, seized his arms, and\nproceeded to harness himself as if for battle; and before we had time to\nespy a place to flee to, the whole air became dark, and the city was more\ndeeply over-shadowed than during an eclipse; the thunder began to roar,\nand the lightnings to dart forkedly, and a ceaseless shower of mortal\narrows, was directed from the gates below, against the catholic church;\nand unless every one had had a shield in his hand to receive the fiery\ndarts, and unless the foundation stone had been too strong for any thing\nto make an impression upon it, you would have seen the whole in\nconflagration.  But alas! this was but the prologue, or a foretaste of\nwhat was to follow; for the darkness speedily became seven times blacker,\nand _Belial_ himself appeared upon the densest cloud, and around him were\nhis choicest warriors, both terrestrial and infernal, to receive and\nexecute his will, on their particular sides.  He had enjoined the Pope,\nand the king of France, his other son, to destroy the church of England\nand its queen; and the Turk and the Muscovite, to break to pieces the\nother parts of the Church, and to slay the people; the queen and the\nother princes, were by no means to be spared; and the Bible was to be\nburned in spite of every thing.  The first thing which the queen and the\nother saints did, was to fall upon their knees, and complain of their\nwrongs to the King of kings, in these words:--\"_The spreading of his\nwings covereth the extent of thy land_, _O Emmanuel_!\" Isaiah 8. iii.\nThis complaint was answered by a voice, which said, \"_resist the devil\nand he will flee from you_;\" and then ensued the hardest and most\nstubborn engagement, which had ever been upon the earth.  When the _sword\nof the Spirit_ began to be waved, Belial and his infernal legions began\nto retreat, and the Pope to falter.  The king of France, it is true, held\nout; yet even he nearly lost heart, for he saw the queen and her subjects\nunited and prosperous, whilst his own ships were sunk, his soldiers\nslaughtered, and thousands of his subjects rebelling.  The very Turk was\nbecoming as gentle as a lamb; but just at that moment my heavenly\nassociate quitted me, darting up towards the firmament, to myriads of\nother shining powers, and my dream was at an end.  Yes, just as the Pope\nand the other terrestrial powers, were beginning to sneak away, and to\nfaint, and the potentates of hell to fall by tens of thousands, each\nmaking, to my imagination's ear, as much noise as if a huge mountain had\nbeen precipitated into the depths of the sea, my companion quitted me,\nand there was an end of my dream; for what with the noise made by the\nfiends, and the agitation which I felt at losing my companion, I awoke\nfrom my sleep, and returned with the utmost reluctance to my sluggish\nclod, thinking how noble and delightful it was to be a _free_ spirit, to\nwander about in angelic company, quite secure, though seemingly in the\nmidst of peril.  I had now nothing to console me, save the Muse, and she\nbeing half angry, would do nothing more than bleat to me the following\nstrains.\n\n\n\nThe Perishing World.\n\n\nO man, upon this building gaze,\nThe mansion of the human race,\nThe world terrestrial see!\nIts architect's the King on high,\nWho ne'er was born and ne'er will die--\nThe blest Divinity.\nThe world, its wall, its starlights all,\nIts stores, where'er they lie,\nIts wondrous brute variety,\nIts reptiles, fish, and birds that fly,\n\nAnd cannot number'd be,\nThe God above, to show his love,\nDid give, O man, to thee.\nFor man, for man, whom he did plan,\nGod caus'd arise\nThis edifice,\nEqual to heaven in all but size,\nBeneath the sun so fair;\nThen it he view'd, and that 'twas good\nFor man, he was aware.\n\nMan only sought to know at first\nEvil, and of the thing accursed\nObtain a sample small.\nThe sample grew a giantess,\n'Tis easy from her size to guess\nThe whole her prey will fall.\nCellar and turret high,\nThrough hell's dark treachery,\nNow reeling, rocking terribly,\nIn swooning pangs appear;\nThe orchards round, are only found\nVile sedge and weeds to bear;\nThe roof gives way, more, more each day,\nThe walls too, spite\nOf all their might,\nHave frightful cracks, down all their height,\nWhich coming ruin show;\nThe dragons tell, that danger fell,\nNow lurks the house below.\n\nO man! this building fair and proud,\nFrom its foundation to the cloud,\nIs all in dangerous plight;\nBeneath thee quakes and shakes the ground;\n'Tis all, e'en down to hell's profound,\nA bog that scares the sight.\nThe sin man wrought, the deluge brought,\nAnd without fail\nA fiery gale,\nBefore which every thing shall quail,\nHis deeds shall waken now;\nWorse evermore, till all is o'er,\nThy case, O world, shall grow.\nThere's one place free, yet, man for thee,\nWhere mercies reign,\nA place to which thou may'st attain,\nSeek there a residence to gain\nLest thou in caverns howl;\nFor save thou there shalt quick repair,\nWoe to thy wretched soul!\n\nTowards yon building turn your face!\nToo strong by far is yonder place\nTo lose the victory.\n'Tis better than the reeling world;\nFor all the ills by hell uphurl'd\nIt has a remedy.\nSublime it braves the wildest waves;\nIt is a refuge place\nImpregnable to Belial's race,\nWith stones, emitting vivid rays,\nAbove its stately porch;\nItself, and those therein, compose\nThe universal church.\nThough slaves of sin we long have been,\nWith faith sincere\nWe shall win pardon there;\nThen in let's press, O, brethren dear,\nAnd claim our dignity!\nBy doing so, we saints below\nAnd saints on high shall be.\n\n\n\n\nA Vision of Death in his Palace Below.\n\n\nIn one of the long, black, chilly nights of winter, when it was much\nwarmer in a kitchen of Glyn-cywarch, than on the summit of Cadair Idris,\nand much more pleasant to be in a snug chamber, with a warm bed-fellow,\nthan in a shroud in the church yard, I was mussing upon some discourses\nwhich had passed between me and a neighbour, upon _the shortness of human\nlife_, and how certain every one is of dying, and how uncertain as to the\ntime.  Whilst thus engaged, having but newly laid my head down upon the\npillow, and being about half awake, I felt a great weight coming\nstealthily upon me, from the crown of my head to my heel, so that I could\nnot stir a finger, nor any thing except my tongue, and beheld a lad upon\nmy breast, and a lass mounted upon his back.  On looking sharply, I\nguessed, from the warm smell which came from him, his clammy locks, and\nhis gummy eyes, that the lad must be _master Sleep_.  \"Pray, sir,\" said\nI, squealing, \"what have I done to you, that you bring that witch here to\nsuffocate me?\"  \"Hush,\" said he, \"it is only my sister _Nightmare_; we\nare both going to visit our brother _Death_, and have need of a third,\nand lest you should resist, we have come upon you without warning, as he\nhimself will sometime; therefore you must come, whether you will or not.\"\n\"Alas!\" said I, \"must I die?\"  \"O no,\" said _Nightmare_; \"we will spare\nyou this time.\"  \"But with your favour,\" said I, \"your brother Death\nnever spared any one yet who was brought within reach of his dart; the\nfellow even ventured to fling a fall with the Lord of Life himself,\nthough it is true he gained very little by his daring.\"  At these words\n_Nightmare_ arose full of wrath and departed.  \"Hey,\" said _Sleep_, \"come\naway, and you shall have no cause to repent of your journey.\"  \"Well,\"\nsaid I, \"may there never be night to _saint Sleep_, and may _Nightmare_\nnever obtain any other place to crouch upon than the top of an awl,\nunless you return me to where you found me.\"  Then away he went with me,\nover woods and precipices, over oceans and valleys, over castles and\ntowers, rivers and crags; and where did we descend, but by one of the\ngates of the daughters of Belial, on the posterior side of the _city of\nPerdition_, and I could there perceive, that the three gates of Perdition\ncontracted into one on the hinder side, and opened into the same place--a\nplace foggy, cold, and pestilential, replete with an unwholesome vapour,\nand clouds, lowering and terrible.  \"Pray, sir,\" said I, \"what dungeon of\na place is this?\"  \"_The chambers of Death_,\" said _Sleep_.  I had\nscarcely time to enquire, before I heard some people crying, some\nscreaming, some groaning, some talking deliriously, some uttering\nblasphemies in a feeble tone: others in great agony, as if about to give\nup the ghost.  Here and there one, after a mighty shout would become\nsilent, and then forthwith I could hear a key revolving in a lock; I\nturned at the sound to look for the door, and by dint of long gazing, I\ncould see tens of thousands of doors, apparently far off though close by\nmy side notwithstanding.  \"Please to inform me, master Sleep,\" said I,\n\"to what place these doors open?\"  \"They open,\" he replied, \"into the\n_land of Oblivion_, a vast country under the rule of my brother Death;\nand the great wall here, is the limit of the immense eternity.\"  As I\nlooked I could see a little death at each door, all with different arms,\nand different names, though evidently they were all subjects of the same\nking.  Notwithstanding which, there was much contention between them\nconcerning the sick; for the one wished to snatch the sick through his\ndoor, and the other would fain have him through his own.  On drawing\nnear, we could see above every door, the name of the death written, who\nkept it; and likewise by every door, hundreds of various things left\nscattered about, denoting the haste of those who went through.  Over one\ndoor I could see _Famine_, though purses and full bags were lying on the\nground beside it, and boxes nailed up, standing near.  \"That,\" said he,\n\"is the gate of the _misers_.\"  \"To whom,\" said I, \"do these rags\nbelong?\"  \"Principally to misers,\" he replied; \"but there are some there\nbelonging to lazy idlers, and to ballad singers, and to others, poor in\nevery thing, but spirit, who preferred starvation to begging.\"  In the\nnext door was the death of the _Ruling Passion_, and parallel with it I\ncould hear many voices, as of men in the extremity of cold.  By this door\nwere many books, some pots and flaggons, here and there a staff and a\nwalking stick, some compasses and charts, and shipping tackle.  \"This is\nthe road by which scholars go,\" said I.  \"Some scholars go by it,\" said\nhe, \"solitary, helpless wretches, whose relations have stripped them of\ntheir last article of raiment; but people of various other descriptions\ngo by it also.  Those,\" said he, (speaking of the pots,) \"are the relics\nof jolly companions, whose feet are freezing under benches, whilst their\nheads are boiling with drink and uproar; and the things yonder belong to\ntravellers of snowy mountains, and to traffickers in the North sea.\"\n\nNext at hand was a meagre skeleton of a figure, called the _death of\nFear_.  Through his exterior you might see that he did not possess any\nheart; and by his door there were bags, and chests also, and locks and\ncastles.  By this gate went usurers, bad governors and tyrants, and some\nof the murderers, but the plurality of the latter were driven past to the\nnext gate, where there was a death called _Gallows_, with his cord ready\nfor their necks.\n\nNext was to be seen the _death of Love_, and by his feet were hundreds of\ninstruments, and books of music, and verses, and love letters, and also\nointments and colors to beautify the countenance, and a thousand other\nembellishing wares, and also some swords.  \"With some of those swords,\"\nsaid my companion, \"bandits have been slain whilst fighting for women,\nand with others, love-lorn creatures have stabbed themselves.\"  I could\nperceive that this death was purblind.\n\nAt the next door, was a death who had the most repulsive figure of all:\nhis entire liver was consumed.  He was called the _death of Envy_.  \"This\none,\" said Sleep, \"assaults losing gamesters, slanderers, and many a\nfemale rider, who repineth at the law which rendered the wife subject to\nher husband.\"  \"Pray, sir,\" said I, \"what is the meaning of female\nrider?\"  \"Female rider,\" said he, \"is the term used here, for the woman\nwho would ride her husband, her neighbours, and her country too, if\npossible, and the end of her long riding will be, that she will ride the\nDevil, from that door, down to hell.\"\n\nNext stood the door of the _death of Ambition_, and of those who lift\ntheir nostrils on high, and break their shins for want of looking beneath\ntheir feet.  Beside this door were crowns, sceptres, banners, all sorts\nof patents and commissions, and all kinds of heraldric and warlike arms.\n\nBut before I could look on any more of these countless doors, I heard a\nvoice commanding me by my name to prepare.  At this word, I could feel\nmyself beginning to melt, like a snow ball in the heat of the sun;\nwhereupon my master gave me some soporific drink, so that I fell asleep,\nbut by the time I awoke, he had conveyed me to a considerable distance,\non the other side of the wall.  I found myself in a valley of pitchy\ndarkness, and as it seemed to me, limitless.  At the end of a little\ntime, I could see by a dim light, like that of a dying candle,\ninnumerable human shades--some on foot, and some on horseback, running\nthrough one another like the wind, silently and with wonderful solemnity.\n\nIt was a desert, bare, and blasted country, without grass, or vegetation,\nor woods, and without animals, with the exception of deadly monsters, and\nvenomous reptiles of every kind; serpents, snakes, lice, toads,\nmaw-worms, locusts, ear-wigs, and the like, which all exist on human\ncorruption.  Through myriads of shades, and creeping things, graves,\nsepulchres, and cemeteries, we proceeded, without interruption, to\nobserve the country.  At last I perceived some of the shades turning and\nlooking upon me; and suddenly, notwithstanding the great silence that had\nprevailed before, there was a whispering from one to the other that there\nwas a _living man_ at hand.  \"A living man,\" said one; \"a living man,\"\nsaid the other; and they came thronging about me like caterpillars from\nevery corner.  \"How did you come hither, sirrah?\" said a little morkin of\na death who was there.  \"Truly sir,\" said I, \"I know no more than\nyourself.\"  \"What do they call you?\" he demanded.  \"Call me what you\nplease, here in your own country,\" I replied, \"but at home I am called\n_the Sleeping Bard_.\"\n\nAt that word I beheld a crooked old man, with a double head like to a\nrough-barked thorn tree, raising himself erect, and looking upon me worse\nthan the black devil himself; and lo! without saying a word, he hurled a\nlarge human skull at my head--many thanks to a tombstone which shielded\nme.  \"Pray be quiet, sir,\" said I.  \"I am but a stranger, who was never\nhere before, and you may be sure I will never return, if I can once reach\nhome again.\"  \"I will give you cause to remember having been here,\" said\nhe; and attacked me with a thigh-bone, like a very devil, whilst I\navoided his blows as well as I could.  \"By heavens,\" said I, \"this is a\nmost inhospitable country to strangers.  Is there a justice of the peace\nhere?\"  \"Peace!\" said he, \"what peace do you deserve, who will not let\npeople rest in their graves?\"  \"Pray, sir,\" said I, \"may I be allowed to\nknow your name, because I am not aware of ever having disturbed any one\nin this country.\"  \"Sirrah,\" said he, \"know that not you are the Sleeping\nBard, but that I am that person; and I have been allowed to rest here for\nnine hundred years, by every one but yourself.\"  And he attacked me\nagain.\n\n\"Forbear, my brother,\" said Merddyn, who was near at hand, \"be not too\nhot; rather be thankful to him for keeping an honorable remembrance of\nyour name upon earth.\"  \"Great honor forsooth,\" said he, \"I shall receive\nfrom such a blockhead as this.  Sirrah! can you sing in the\nfour-and-twenty measures?  Can you carry the pedigree of Gog and Magog,\nand the genealogy of Brutus ap Sylfius, up to a millenium previous to the\nfall of Troy?  Can you narrate when, and what will be the end of the\ncombats betwixt the lion and the eagle, and betwixt the dragon and the\nred deer?\"  \"Hey, hey! let me ask him a question,\" said another, who was\nseated beside a large cauldron which was boiling, and going, bubble,\nbubble, over a fire.  \"Come nearer,\" said he, \"what is the meaning of\nthis?\"\n\n   \"I till the judgment day\n   Upon the earth shall stray;\n   None knows for certainty\n   Whether fish or flesh I be.\"\n\n\"I will request the favor of your name, sir,\" said I, \"that I may answer\nyou in a suitable manner.\"  \"I,\" said he, \"am Taliesin, {49} the prince\nof the Bards of the West, and that is a piece of my composition.\"  \"I\nknow not,\" said I, \"what could be your meaning, unless it was, that the\nyellow plague {50} which destroyed Maelgwn of Gwynedd, put an end to you\non the sea-shore, and that your body was divided amongst the crows and\nthe fishes.\"  \"Peace, fool!\" said he, \"I was alluding to my two callings,\nof man of the law and poet.  Please to tell me, has a lawyer more\nsimilitude to a raven, than a poet to a whale?  How many a one doth a\nsingle lawyer divest of his flesh, to swell out his own craw; and with\nwhat indifference does he extract the blood, and leave a man half alive!\nAnd as for the poet, where is the fish which is able to swallow like him?\nhe is drinking oceans of liquor at all times, but the briny sea itself\nwould not slack his thirst.  And provided a man be a poet and a lawyer,\nhow is it possible to know whether he be fish or flesh, especially if he\nbe a courtier to boot, as I was, and obliged to vary his taste to every\nones palate.  But tell me,\" said he, \"whether there are at present, any\nof those fellows upon the earth?\"  \"There's plenty of them,\" said I; \"if\none can patch together any nonsensical derry, he is styled a graduate\nbard.  But as for the others; there is such a plague of lawyers, petty\nattornies, and scribes, that the locusts of Egypt bore light upon the\ncountry, in comparison with them.  In your time, sir, there were but\nbargains of tofts and crofts, and a hand's breadth of writing for a farm\nof a hundred pounds, and a raising of cairns and crosses, as memorials of\nthe purchase and boundaries.  There is no longer any such security, but\nthere is far more craft and deceit, and a tombstone's breadth of written\nparchment to secure the bargain; and for all that, it is a wonder if a\nflaw be not in it, or said to be at least.\"  \"Well then,\" said Taliesin,\n\"I should not be worth a straw in the world at present.  I am better\nwhere I am.  Truth will never be had where there are many poets, nor fair\ndealing where there are many lawyers; no, nor health where there are many\nphysicians.\"  At this moment, a little grey-headed hobgoblin, who had\nheard that a living man was arrived, flung himself at my feet, weeping\nabundantly.  \"Dear me,\" said I, \"what are you?\"  \"One who is grievously\nwronged every day in the world,\" said he.  \"May God move your soul to\nprocure justice for me.\"  \"What is your name?\" said I.  \"I am called\n_Somebody_,\" he replied, \"and there is scarcely a piece of pimping, or a\ncalumny, or a lie, or tale, to set people at loggerheads, but must be\nlaid upon me.  'Verily,' says one, 'she is a prodigious fine girl, and\nshe was praising you before somebody, notwithstanding that some very\ngreat person is paying his suit to her.'  'I heard somebody,' says\nanother, 'reckoning that this estate was mortgaged nine hundred pounds\ndeep.'  'I saw some one yesterday,' says the beggar, 'with a chequered\nslop, like a sailor, who had come with a large ship load of corn, to the\nneighbouring port.'  And thus every ragged dog mangles me for his own\nwicked purposes.  Some call me Friend--'I was informed by a friend,' says\none, 'that so and so has no intention of leaving a farthing to his wife,\nand that there is no affection between them.'  Some others vilify me yet\nmore, and call me Bird--'A bird whistled in my ear, that there are bad\npractices going on there,' say they.  It is true, some call me by the\nmore respectable name of Old Person; yet, not half the omens, prophecies,\nand counsels, which are attributed to the Old Person, belong to me.  I\nhave never bidden people to follow the old road, provided the new one be\nbetter, nor a hundred similar things.  But Somebody is my common name,\"\nhe continued, \"him you will most frequently hear, to have been concerned\nin every atrocious matter.  Because, ask a person wherever a vile,\nslanderous falsehood has been uttered, who it was who said it, and he\nwill reply, 'Truly I don't know who, but somebody in the company said\nit;' question then every one in the company concerning the fable, and\nevery one will say he heard it from somebody, but no one knows from whom.\nIs not this a shameful injury?\" he demanded.  \"Be so good as to inform\nevery one whom you may hear naming me, that I have never said any one of\nthese things, nor have ever invented nor uttered a lie to slander any\none, nor a story to set relations by the ears; that I do not go near\nthem; that I know nothing of their history, nor of their affairs, nor of\ntheir accursed secrets; and that they ought not to fling their wickedness\nupon me, but on their own corrupt brains.\"\n\nAt this moment there came a little death, one of the secretaries of the\nking, desiring to know my name, and commanding master Sleep, to carry me\ninstantly before the king.  I was compelled to go, though utterly against\nmy will, by the power, which, like a whirlwind carried me away, betwixt\nhigh and low, thousands of miles back to the left hand, until we came\nagain in sight of the boundary wall, and reached a narrow corner.  Here\nwe perceived an immense, frowning, ruinous palace, open at the top,\nreaching to the wall where were the innumerable doors, all of which led\nto this huge, terrific court.  The walls were constructed with the sculls\nof men, which grinned horribly with their teeth.  The clay was black, and\nwas prepared with tears and sweat; and the mortar on the outside was\nvariegated with phlegm and pus, and on the inside with black-red blood.\nOn the top of each turret, you might see a little death, with a smoking\nheart stuck on the point of his dart.\n\nAround the palace was a wood, consisting of a few poisonous yews and\ndeadly cypresses, and in these, owls, blood crows, vultures and the like\nwere nestling; and croaking continually for flesh, though the whole place\nwas nothing but a stinking shamble.  We entered the gate.  All the\npillars of the hall were made of human thigh bones; the pillars of the\nparlour were of shank bones; and the floors were one continued layer of\nevery species of offal.  It was not long before I came in sight of a vast\nand frightful altar, where I beheld the king of Terrors swallowing human\nflesh and blood, and a thousand petty deaths, from every hole, feeding\nhim with fresh, warm flesh.  \"Behold,\" said the death who brought me\nthere, addressing himself to the king, \"a spark, whom I found in the\nmidst of the land of Oblivion; he came so light footed, that your majesty\nnever tasted a morsel of him.\"  \"How can that be?\" said the king, and\nopened his jaws as wide as an earthquake to swallow me.  Whereupon I\nturned all trembling to Sleep.  \"It was I,\" said Sleep, \"who brought him\nhere.\"  \"Well,\" said the meagre, grizly king, turning to me, \"for my\nbrother Sleep's sake, you shall be permitted to return this time, but\nbeware of me the next.\"  After having employed himself for a considerable\ntime in casting carcasses into his insatiable paunch, he caused his\nsubjects to be called together, and moved from the altar to a terrific\nthrone of exceeding height, to pronounce judgment on the prisoners newly\narrived.  In an instant came innumerable multitudes of the dead, making\ntheir obeisance to their king, and taking their stations in remarkable\norder.  And lo! king Death was in his regal vest of flaming scarlet,\ncovered all over with figures of women and children weeping, and men\nuttering groans; about his head was a black-red three-cornered cap (which\nhis friend Lucifer had sent as a present to him,) and upon its corners\nwere written _misery_, _wailing_, and _woe_.  Above his head were\nthousands of representations of battles on sea and land, towns burning,\nthe earth opening, and the great water of the deluge; and beneath his\nfeet nothing was to be seen but the crowns and sceptres of the kings whom\nhe had overcome from the beginning.  On his right hand Fate was sitting,\nseemingly engaged in reading, with a murky look, a huge volume which was\nbefore him; and on his left was an old man called _Time_, licking\ninnumerable threads of gold, and silver, and copper, and very many of\niron.  Some few of the threads were growing better towards their end, and\nthousands growing worse.  Along the threads were hours, days, and years;\nand Fate, according as his volume directed him, was continually breaking\nthe threads of life, and opening the doors of the boundary wall, betwixt\nthe two worlds.\n\nWe had not looked around us long, before we heard four fiddlers, newly\ndead, summoned to the bar.  \"How comes it,\" said the king of Terrors,\n\"that loving merriment as ye do, ye kept not on the other side of the\ngulf, for there has never been any merriment on this side.\"  \"We have\nnever done,\" said one of the musicians, \"harm to any body, but have\nrendered people joyous, and have taken quietly what they gave us for our\npains.\"  Said Death, \"did you never keep any one from his work, and cause\nhim to lose his time; or did you never keep people from church? ha!\"  \"O\nno!\" said another, \"perhaps now and then on a Sunday, after service, we\nmay have kept some in the public house till the next morning, or during\nsummer tide, may have kept them dancing in the ring on the green all\nnight; for sure enough, we were more liked, and more lucky in obtaining a\ncongregation than the parson.\"  \"Away, away with these fellows to the\ncountry of Despair!\" said the terrific king, \"bind the four back to back\nand cast them to their customers, to dance bare-footed on floors of\nglowing heat, and to amble to all eternity without either praise or\nmusic.\"\n\nThe next that came to the bar was a certain king, who had lived very near\nto Rome.  \"Hold up your hand, prisoner,\" said one of the officers.  \"I\nhope,\" said he, \"that you have some better manners and favour to show to\na king.\"  \"Sirrah,\" said Death, \"why did you not keep on the other side\nof the gulf where all are kings?  On this side there is none but myself,\nand another down below, and you will soon see, that neither he nor I will\nrate you according to the degree of your majesty, but according to the\ndegree of your wickedness, in order to adapt your punishment to your\ncrimes, therefore answer to the interrogation.\"  \"Sir,\" he replied, \"I\nwould have you know, that you have no authority to detain me, nor to\ninterrogate me, as I have a pardon for all my sins under the Pope's own\nhand.  On account of my faithful services, he has given me a warrant to\ngo straight to Paradise, without tarrying one moment in Purgatory.\"  At\nthese words the king and all the haggard train gave a ghastly grin, to\nescape from laughing outright; but the other full of wrath at their\nridicule, commanded them aloud to show him the way.  \"Peace, thou lost\nfool!\" cried Death, \"Purgatory lies behind you, on the other side of the\nwall, for you ought to purify yourself during your life; and on the right\nhand, on the other side of that gulf is Paradise.  But there is no road\nby which it is possible for you to escape, either through the gulf to\nParadise, or through the boundary wall back to the world; and if you were\nto give your kingdom, (supposing you could give it,) you would not obtain\npermission from the keepers of those doors, to take one peep through the\nkey hole.  It is called the irrepassable wall, for when once you have\ncome through you may abandon all hope of returning.  But since you stand\nso high on the books of the Pope, you shall go and prepare his bed,\nbeside that of the Pope who was before him, and there you shall kiss his\ntoe for ever, and he the toe of Lucifer.\"\n\nImmediately thereupon, four little deaths raised the poor king up, who\nwas by this time shivering like the leaf of an aspen, and snatched him\nout of sight like lightning.  Next after him came a young fellow and\nwoman.  He had been a jolly companion and she a lady of pleasure, or one\nfree of her person; but they were called here by their naked names,\ndrunkard and harlot.  \"I hope,\" said the drunkard, \"I shall find some\nfavour with you; I have sent to you many a bloated booty in a torrent of\ngood ale; and when I failed to kill others, I came myself, willingly, to\nfeed you.\"  \"With the permission of the court,\" said the harlot, \"you\nhave not sent half as much as I, and my offerings were burning\nsacrifices, rich roast meat ready for the board.\"  \"Hey, hey!\" said\nDeath, \"all this was done for your own accursed passions' sake and not to\nfeed me.  Bind the two face to face, as they are old acquaintances, and\ncast them into the land of Darkness, and let each be a torment to the\nother, until the day of judgment.\"  They were then snatched away, with\ntheir heads downwards.\n\nNext to these there came seven recorders.  Having been commanded to raise\ntheir hands to the bar, they would by no means obey, as the rails were\ngreasy.  One began to wrangle boisterously; \"we ought to obtain a fair\ncitation to prepare our answer;\" said he, \"instead of being rushed upon\nunawares.\"\n\n\"But are we bound to give you that same specific citation,\" answered\nDeath, \"since you obtain in every place, and at every period of your\nlife, warning of my coming.  How many sermons have you not heard upon the\nmortality of man?  How many books have you not seen?  How many graves,\nhow many sculls, how many diseases, how many messages and signs have you\nnot had?  What is your Sleep, but my own brother?  What are sculls, but\nmy visage?  What does your daily food consist of but dead creatures?  Seek\nnot to cast your neglect upon me.  Speak not of summons, when you have\nobtained it a hundred times.\"  \"Pray,\" said one red recorder, \"what have\nyou to advance against us?\"  \"What?\" said Death.  \"Drinking the sweat and\nblood of the poor, and levying double your wages.\"  \"Here is an honest\nman,\" replied the recorder, pointing to a pettifogger behind him, \"who\nknows that we have never done any thing but what was fair; and it is not\nfair of you to detain us here, without a specific crime to prove against\nus.\"  \"Hey, hey!\" said Death, \"you shall prove against yourselves.  Place\nthese people,\" said he, \"on the verge of the _precipice_ before the\ntribunal of _Justice_, they shall obtain equity there though they never\npracticed it.\"\n\nThere were still seven other prisoners remaining, and these kept up a\nprodigious bustle and noise.  Some were flattering, others quarrelling,\nsome blustering, some counselling, &c.  Scarcely had they been called to\nthe bar, when lo! the entire palace became seven times more horribly dark\nthan before, and there was a shivering and a great agitation about the\nthrone, and Death became paler than ever.  Upon enquiring what was the\nmatter, one of the messengers of Lucifer stepped forward with a letter\nfor Death, concerning these seven prisoners, and Fate presently caused\nthe letter to be read publicly, and these were the words, as far as I can\nremember.\n\n   \"_Lucifer_, _King of the kings of the world_, _prince of Hell_, _and\n   ruler of the Deep_, _to our natural son_, _the most mighty and\n   terrible king Death_, _greeting_, _pre-eminence_, _and eternal spoil_.\n\n   \"For as much as we have been informed by some of our nimble\n   messengers, who are constantly abroad to obtain information, that\n   seven prisoners, of the seven most villainous and dangerous species in\n   the world, have arrived lately at your royal palace, and that it is\n   your intention to hurl them over the cliff into my kingdom.  I hereby\n   counsel you to try every possible means, to let them loose back again\n   upon the world; they will do you there more service in sending you\n   food, and sending me better company, for I would rather want than have\n   them; we have had but too much plague with their companions for a long\n   time, and my dominion is still disturbed by them.  Therefore turn them\n   back, or keep them with you.  For, by the infernal crown, if you send\n   them here, I will undermine the foundations of your kingdom, until it\n   falls down into my own immense dominion.\n\n   \"_From the burning hall of assembly_, _at our royal palace in the pit\n   of Hell_, _in the year of our reign_, 5425.\"\n\nKing Death, hereupon, stood for some time with his visage green and pale,\nin great perplexity of mind.  But whilst he was meditating, behold\n_Fate_, turned upon him such an iron-black scowl, as made him tremble.\n\"Sirrah,\" said he, \"look to what you do.  It is not in my power to send\nany one back, through the boundary of eternity, the irrepassable wall,\nnor in yours to harbour them here; therefore forward them to their\ndestruction, in spite of the Arch Fiend.  He has been able hitherto, in a\nminute to allot his proper place to every individual, in a drove of a\nthousand, nay, even of ten thousand captured souls; and what difficulty\ncan he have with seven, however dangerous they may be.  But though these\nseven should turn the infernal government topsy-turvy, do you drive them\nthither instantly, for fear I should receive commands to annihilate you\nbefore your time.  As for _his_ threats, they are only lies; for although\nthy end, and that of the old man yonder, (looking at Time,) are nigh at\nhand, being written only a few pages further on, in my unerring volume,\nyet you have no cause to be afraid of sinking to Lucifer; though every\none in the abyss would be glad to obtain thee, yet they never, never\nshall.  For the rocks of steel and eternal adamant, which form the roof\nof Hell, are too strong for anything to crumble them.\"  Whereupon, Death,\nconsiderably startled, called to one of his train, to write for him the\nfollowing answer.\n\n   \"_Death_, _the king of Terror and Conqueror of conquerors_, _to his\n   revered friend and neighbour Lucifer_, _king of Eternal Night_,\n   _sovereign of the Bottomless Pool_, _sends greeting_.\n\n   \"After due reflection on your regal desire, it has appeared to us more\n   advantageous, not only to our own dominion, but likewise to your own\n   extensive kingdom, to send these prisoners, as far as possible from\n   the doors of the irrepassable wall, lest their putrid odour should\n   terrify the whole city of Destruction, so that no man should come to\n   all eternity, to my side of the gate; and neither I obtain any thing\n   to cool my sting, nor you a concourse of customers from earth to hell.\n   Therefore I will leave to you to judge them, and to hurl them into\n   such cells, as you may deem the most proper and secure for them.\n\n   \"_From my nether palace in the great gate of Perdition_, _over\n   Destruction_.  _In the year_, _from the renewal of my kingdom_, 1670.\"\n\nAt hearing all this, I felt a great curiosity to know who these seven\npeople could be, whom the devils themselves held in so much dread.  But\nere a minute had elapsed, the clerk of the crown called their names, as\nfollows:--Master Meddler, alias _Finger in Every Dish_; but he was so\nvehement and busy in advising the others, that he could not get a\nmoment's time to answer for himself, until Death threatened to transfix\nhim with his dart.\n\nThen _master Slanderer_ was called, alias _Enemy of Fair Fame_; but there\nwas no answer.  \"He is too modest to hear his titles,\" said the third,\n\"and he never can bear his nicknames.\"  \"Do you suppose,\" said the\n_Slanderer_, \"that you yourself have no _titles_.  Call for,\" said he,\n\"_master Coxcomb_, alias _Smooth Gullet_, alias _Poison Smile_.\"  \"Ready,\"\nsaid a woman who was there, pointing to the Coxcomb.  \"O,\" said he,\n\"_madam Bouncer_!  Your humble servant, I am overjoyed at seeing you\nwell.  I have never seen a woman look handsomer in breeches.  But, oh! to\nthink how miserable the country must be behind you, for want of its\nadmirable she-governor; yet your delightful company will make hell itself\nsomething better.\"  \"O son of the arch fiend!\" said she.  \"With you there\nis no need of another hell, you are yourself enough.\"  Then the cryer\ncalled _Bouncer_, or _mistress Breeches_.  \"Ready,\" said another.  But\nshe said not a word, for want of being called madam.  Next was called\n_Contriver of Contrivances_, alias _Jack of all Trades_; but he returned\nno answer either, for he was busied in devising a way to escape.  \"Ready,\nready,\" said one behind, \"here he is, looking out for an opportunity to\nbreak through your palace, and unless you take care, he will have some\nnotable contrivance to baulk you.\"  Said the Contriver, \"call him, I\nbeseech you, _master Impeacher of his Brother_, alias _Searcher of\nFaults_, alias _Framer of Complaints_.\"  \"Ready, ready, this is he,\" said\na litigious pettifogger, for every one knew the name of the other, but\nwould not acknowledge his own.  \"You shall be called,\" said the\nImpeacher, \"_master Litigious Pettifogger_, alias _the Courts\nComprised_.\"  \"Bear witness, I pray you all,\" said the Pettifogger, \"as\nto what the knave called me.\"  \"Ho, ho!\" said Death, \"not by the\nbaptismal font, but by his sins, is every one called in this country;\nand, with your permission, master Pettifogger, the names of your sins are\nthose which shall stick to you henceforth for ever.\"  \"Hey,\" said the\nPettifogger, \"I swear by the Devil that I will make you smart for this.\nThough you are empowered to kill me, you have no authority to bestow\nnicknames upon me.  I will file a complaint against you for defamation,\nand another for false imprisonment, against you and your friend Lucifer,\nin the court of Justice.\"\n\nBy this time, I beheld the legions of Death, formed in order and armed,\nwith their eyes fixed upon the king, awaiting the word.  \"There,\" said\nthe king, standing erect upon his regal throne, \"my terrible and\ninvincible hosts, spare neither care nor diligence in removing these\nprisoners from out of my boundaries, lest they prove the ruin of my\ncountry; cast them bound, over the precipice of Despair, with their heads\ndownward.  But for the seventh, this Courts Comprised, who threatens me,\nleave him free over the chasm, beneath the court of _Justice_, and let\nhim try whether he can make his complaint good against me.\"  Then Death\nreseated himself.  And lo! all the deadly legions, after surrounding the\nprisoners and binding them, led them away to their couch.  I also went\nout, and peeped after them.  \"Come away,\" said Sleep, and snatched me up\nto the top of the highest turret of the palace.  Thence I could see the\nprisoners proceeding to their eternal perdition.  Presently a whirlwind\narose, and dispersed the pitch-black cloud, which was spread universally\nover the face of the land of Oblivion, and by the light of a thousand\ncandles, which were burning with a blue flame, at a particular place, I\nobtained a far distant view of the verge of the _Bottomless Gulf_, a\nsight exceedingly horrible; and also of a spectacle above, still more\nappalling, namely _Justice_ upon his _supreme seat_, holding the keys of\nHell, at a separate and distinct tribunal over the chasm, to pronounce\njudgment upon the damned as they came.  I could see the prisoners cast\nheadlong down the gulf, and Pettifogger rushing to fling himself over the\nterrific brink, rather than look once on the court of _Justice_.  For oh!\nthere was there a spectacle too severe for a guilty countenance.  I\nmerely gazed from _afar_, but I beheld more terrific horror, than I can\nat present relate, or I could at that time support, for my spirit\nstruggled and fluttered at the awful sight, and wrestled so strenuously,\nthat it burst all the bands of Sleep, and my soul returned to its\naccustomed functions.  And exceedingly overjoyed I was to see myself\nstill amongst the living.  I instantly determined upon reforming myself,\nas a hundred years of affliction in the paths of righteousness, would be\nless harrowing to me, than another glance on the horrors of this night.\n\n\n\nDeath the Great.\n\n\nLeave land and house we must some day,\nFor human sway not long doth bide;\nLeave pleasures and festivities,\nAnd pedigrees, our boast and pride.\n\nLeave strength and loveliness of mien,\nWit sharp and keen, experience dear;\nLeave learning deep, and much lov'd friends,\nAnd all that tends our life to cheer.\n\nFrom Death then is there no relief?\nThat ruthless thief and murderer fell,\nWho to his shambles beareth down\nAll, all we own, and us as well.\n\nYe monied men, ye who would fain\nYour wealth retain eternally,\nHow brave 'twould be a sum to raise,\nAnd the good grace of Death to buy!\n\nHow brave! ye who with beauty beam,\nOn rank supreme who fix your mind,\nShould ye your captivations muster,\nAnd with their lustre king Death blind.\n\nO ye who are at foot most light,\nWho are in the height now of your spring,\nFly, fly, and ye will make us gape,\nIf ye can scape Death's cruel fling.\n\nThe song and dance afford, I ween,\nRelief from spleen, and sorrows grave;\nHow very strange there is no dance,\nNor tune of France, from Death can save!\n\nYe travellers of sea and land,\nWho know each strand below the sky;\nDeclare if ye have seen a place,\nWhere Adam's race can Death defy!\n\nYe scholars, and ye lawyer crowds,\nWho are as gods reputed wise;\nCan ye from all the lore ye know,\n'Gainst Death bestow some good advice?\n\nThe world, the flesh, and Devil, compose\nThe direst foes of mortals poor;\nBut take good heed of Death the Great,\nFrom the Lost Gate, Destruction o'er.\n\n'Tis not worth while of Death to prate,\nOf his Lost Gate and courts so wide;\nBut O reflect! it much imports,\nOf the two courts in which ye're tried.\n\nIt here can little signify\nIf the street high we cross, or low;\nEach lofty thought doth rise, be sure,\nThe soul to lure to deepest woe.\n\nBut by the wall that's ne'er re-pass'd,\nTo gripe thee fast when Death prepares,\nHeed, heed thy steps, for thou mayst mourn\nThe slightest turn for endless years.\n\nWhen opes the door, and swiftly hence\nTo its residence eternal flies\nThe soul, it matters much, which side\nOf the gulf wide its journey lies.\n\nDeep penitence, amended life,\nA bosom rife of zeal and faith,\nCan help to man alone impart,\nAgainst the smart and sting of Death.\n\nThese things to thee seem worthless now,\nBut not so low will they appear\nWhen thou art come, O thoughtless friend!\nJust to the end of thy career.\n\nThou'lt deem, when thou hast done with earth,\nThese things of worth unspeakable,\nBeside the gulf so black and drear,\nThe gulf of Fear, 'twixt Heaven and Hell.\n\n\n\n\nA Vision of Hell.\n\n\nOne fair morning of genial April, when the earth was green and pregnant,\nand Britain, like a paradise, was wearing splendid liveries, tokens of\nthe smile of the summer sun, I was walking upon the bank of the Severn,\nin the midst of the sweet notes of the little songsters of the wood, who\nappeared to be striving to break through all the measures of music,\nwhilst pouring forth praise to the Creator.  I too occasionally raised my\nvoice, and warbled with the feathered choir, though in a manner somewhat\nmore restrained than that in which they sang; and occasionally read a\nportion of the book of the Practice of Godliness.  Nevertheless, my\nformer visions would not depart from my remembrance, but continually\ntroubled me by coming across all other thoughts.  And they persisted in\ndoing so, until, by arguing the matter minutely with myself, I reflected\nthat there is no vision but what comes from above, to warn one to be upon\none's guard, and that consequently it was my duty to write mine down,\nthat they might serve as a warning to others also.  I therefore returned\nto my home, and whilst overwhelmed with melancholy, I was endeavouring to\ncollect some of my frightful reminiscences, I happened to give a yawn\nover my paper, and this gave master Sleep an opportunity to glide upon\nthe top of me.  Scarcely had Sleep closed my senses, when, behold! a\nglorious apparition came towards me, in the shape of a young man, tall\nand exceedingly beautiful; his garments were seven times more white than\nsnow, his countenance was so lustrous that it rendered the very sun\nobscure, and his curling locks of gold parted in two lovely wreaths upon\nhis head, in the form of a crown.  \"Come with me, mortal man,\" said he on\ncoming up.  \"Who art thou, my lord?\" said I.  \"I am,\" he replied, \"the\nangel of the countries of the North, the guardian of Britain and its\nqueen.  I am one of the princes who are stationed beneath the throne of\nthe Lamb, who receive commands for the protection of the gospel, against\nall its enemies in Hell and in Rome, in France and Constantinople, in\nAfrica and in India, and wheresoever else they are devising artifices for\nits destruction.  I am the angel who conducted thee below to castle\nBelial, and who showed thee the vanity and madness of the whole world,\nthe city of Destruction, and the excellence of the city of Emmanuel, and\nI am come once more by his command, to show thee other things, because\nthou art seeking to turn to account what thou hast seen already.\"  \"How,\nmy lord,\" said I, \"will your illustrious majesty, which superintends\nkings and kingdoms, condescend to associate with such a poor worm as\nmyself?\"  \"O,\" said he, \"we respect more the virtue of a beggar than the\ngrandeur of a sovereign.  What if I be greater than the kings of the\nearth, and higher than many of the countless potentates of heaven?  As my\nwonderful master deigned to humble himself so inexpressibly as to wear\none of your bodies, and to live among you, and to die for your salvation,\nhow should I presume to be dissatisfied with my duty in serving you, and\nthe vilest of the human race, since ye are so high in favour with my\nmaster?  Come out, spirit, and free thyself from thy clay,\" said he, with\nhis eyes directed upwards.  And with that word, I could feel myself\nbecoming extricated from every part of my body.  No sooner was I free,\nthan he snatched me up to the firmament of heaven, through the region of\nlightning and thunder, and all the glowing armories of the sky,\ninnumerable degrees higher than I had been with him before, whence I\ncould scarcely descry the earth, which looked no wider than a croft.\nAfter permitting me to rest a short space, he again lifted me up a\nmillion of miles, until I could see the sun far below us; we rushed\nthrough the milky way and past the Pleiades, and many other exceedingly\nlarge stars, till we caught a distant view of other worlds.  At length,\nby dint of journeying, we reached the confines of the awful eternity, and\nwere in sight of the two palaces of the mighty king Death, which stand\none on the right hand and the other on the left, and are at a great\ndistance from each other, as there is an immense void between them.  I\nenquired whether we should go to see the right hand palace, because it\ndid not appear to me to resemble the other which I had seen before.  \"You\nwill probably see,\" he replied, \"sometime, still more of the difference\nwhich is between the one palace and the other; but at present it is\nnecessary for us to sail another course.\"  Whereupon we turned away from\nthe little world, and having arrived over the intervening gap, we let\nourselves down to the country of Eternity, between the two palaces, into\nthe horrible void; an enormous country it was, exceedingly deep and\ndark--without order and without inhabitants--now hot, now cold--sometimes\nsilent, sometimes noisy, with the sound caused by cataracts of water\ntumbling upon the flames and extinguishing them; which cataracts,\nhowever, did not long continue, for presently might be seen a puff of\nfire bursting out and consuming the water.  There was here no course, nor\nwhole, nothing living, nothing shapely; but a giddy discord and an\namazing darkness which would have blinded me for ever, if my companion\nhad not again displayed his heavenly garment of splendour.  By the light\nwhich it cast I could see the country of Oblivion, and the edges of the\nwilds of Destruction in front, on the left hand; and on the right the\nlowest skirts apparently of the walls of Glory.  \"Behold the great gulf\nbetween Abraham and Dives,\" said my guide, \"which is termed the place of\nChaos.  It is the region of the elements which God created first; it is\nthe place wherein are the seeds of every living thing, from which the\nAlmighty word made your world and all that therein is--water, fire, air,\nearth, animals, fishes and creeping things, winged birds, and human\nbodies, but not your souls, for they are of an origin and generation\nhigher and more exalted.\"  Through the vast, frightful place of Chaos we\nat length broke out to the left hand, and before travelling any distance\nthere, where every thing was ever becoming more frightful, I could feel\nmy heart at the top of my throat, and my hair standing like the prickles\nof the hedge-hog, even before seeing any thing; but when I _did_ see--oh!\nspectacle too much for tongue to relate, or for the spirit of man to\nbehold.  I fainted.  Oh, the amazing and monstrous abyss, opening in a\nhorrible manner into the other world!  Oh, the continual crackling of the\nterrible flames, darting over the sides of the accursed precipice, and\nthe flashes of linked lightning rending the black, thick smoke, which the\nunsightly orifice was casting up!  My dear companion, having brought me\nto myself again, gave me some spiritual water to drink; O how excellent\nit was in its taste and color!  After drinking of the heavenly water, I\ncould feel a wonderful strength diffusing itself through me, bringing\nwith it sense, heart, faith, and various other heavenly virtues.  By this\ntime I had approached with him unterrified to the edge of the steep,\nenveloped in the veil, the flames parting on both sides and avoiding us,\nnot daring to come in contact with the inhabitants of the supreme abodes.\nThen from the summit of the terrific precipice we darted down, like two\nstars falling from the firmament of heaven, a thousand million of miles,\nover many a brimstone crag, and many a furious, ugly cataract and glowing\nprecipice, every thing that we passed looking always frowningly downward;\nyet every thing noxious avoided us, except once, when having thrust my\nnose out of the veil, I was struck by such a suffocating, strangling\nexhalation as would have put an end to me, if my guide had not instantly\nassisted me with the water of life.  By the time that I had recovered, I\nperceived that we had arrived at a kind of standing place; for in all\nthis loathsome chasm it was impossible to obtain any rest before, owing\nto the steepness and slipperiness of its sides.  There my guide permitted\nme to take some further rest; and during this respite, it happened that\nthe thunders and the hoarse whirlwinds became silent for a little while,\nand in spite of the din of the raging cataracts, I heard from afar a\nsound louder than the whole--a sound of horrible harsh voices, of\nshouting, bellowing, and strong groans, swearing, cursing, and\nblaspheming, till I would have consented to part with mine ears, that I\nmight not hear.  Ere we moved a foot farther, we could hear a terrible\ntumbling sound, and if we had not suddenly slipped aside, hundreds of\nunfortunate men would have fallen upon us, who were coming headlong, in\nexcessive hurry, to take possession of their bad purchase, with a host of\ndevils driving them.  \"O, sir,\" said one devil, \"take it easy, lest you\nshould ruffle your curling locks.  Madam, do you wish for an easy\ncushion?  I am afraid that you will be out of all order by the time you\ncome to your couch,\" said he to another.\n\nThe strangers were exceedingly averse to going forward, insisting that\nthey were out of their road; but notwithstanding all they could say, go\nthey did, and we behind them, to a black flood of great magnitude, and\nthrough it they went, and we across it, my companion holding the\ncelestial water continually to my nostrils, to strengthen me against the\nstench of the river, and against the time when I should see some of the\ninhabitants of the place, for hitherto I had not beheld so much as one\ndevil, though I had heard the voices of many.  \"Pray, my lord,\" said I,\n\"what is the name of this putrid river?\"  \"The river of the Fiend,\" said\nhe, \"in which all his subjects are bathed, in order that they may be\nrendered fit for the country.  For this accursed water changes their\ncountenance, and washes away from them every relic of goodness, every\nsemblance of hope and of comfort.\"  And, indeed, on gazing upon the host\nafter it had come through, I could distinguish no difference in deformity\nbetween the devils and the damned.  Some of the latter would fain have\nsculked at the bottom of the river, and have lain there to all eternity,\nin a state of strangulation, lest they should get a worse bed father on;\nbut here the proverb was verified, that \"he must needs run whom the Devil\ndrives,\" for with the devils behind, the damned were compelled to go\nforward unto the beach, to their eternal damnation; where I at the first\nglance saw more pains and torments than the heart of man can imagine or\nthe tongue relate; a single one of which was sufficient to make the hair\nstand erect, the blood to freeze, the flesh to melt, the bones to drop\nfrom their places--yea, the spirit to faint.  What is empaling or sawing\nmen alive, tearing off the flesh piecemeal with iron pincers, or broiling\nthe flesh with candles, collop fashion, or squeezing heads flat in a\nvice, and all the most shocking devices which ever were upon earth,\ncompared with one of these?  Mere pastime!  Here were a hundred thousand\nshoutings, hoarse sighs, and strong groans; yonder a boisterous wailing\nand horrible outcry answering them, and the howling of a dog is sweet,\ndelicious music, when compared with these sounds.  When we had proceeded\na little way onward from the accursed beach, towards the wild place of\nDamnation, I perceived, by their own light, innumerable men and women\nhere and there; and devils without number and without rest, incessantly\nemploying their strength in tormenting.  Yes, there they were, devils and\ndamned, the devils roaring with their own torments, and making the damned\nroar, by means of the torments which they inflicted upon them.  I paid\nparticular observation to the corner which was nearest me.  There I\nbeheld the devils with pitch-forks, tossing the damned up into the air,\nthat they might fall headlong on poisoned hatchels or barbed pikes, there\nto wriggle their bowels out.  After a time the wretches would crawl in\nmultitudes, one upon another, to the top of one of the burning crags,\nthere to be broiled like mutton; from there they would be snatched afar,\nto the top of one of the mountains of eternal frost and snow, where they\nwould be allowed to shiver for a time; thence they would be precipitated\ninto a loathsome pool of boiling brimstone, to wallow there in\nconflagration, smoke, and the suffocation of horrible stench; from the\npool they would be driven to the marsh of Hell that they might embrace\nand be embraced by its reptiles many times worse than serpents and\nvipers; after allowing them half an hour's dalliance with these\ncreatures, the devils would seize a bundle of rods of steel, fiery hot\nfrom the furnace, and would scourge them till their howlings, caused by\nthe horrible inexpressible pain which they endured, would fill the vast\nabode of darkness, and when the fiends deemed that they had scourged them\nenough, they would take hot irons and sear their bloody wounds.\n\nThere was here no fainting, nor swooning to evade a moment of suffering,\nbut a continual strength to suffer and to feel, though you would have\nimagined after one horrible cry, that it would be utterly impossible\nthere should be strength remaining to give another cry so frightfully\nloud; the damned never lowered their key, and the devils kept replying,\n\"behold your welcome for ever and ever.\"  And it almost seemed that the\nsauciness and bitterness of the devils, in jeering and mocking their\nvictims, were worse to bear than the pain itself.  What was worst of all,\ntheir conscience was at present utterly aroused, and was tearing them\nworse than a thousand of the infernal lions.  We proceeded farther and\nfarther downward, and the farther we proceeded, the more horrible was the\nwork which was going on; the first place we came to in our progress was a\nfrightful prison, in which were many human beings under the scourge of\nthe devils, shrieking most shockingly.  \"What place is this?\" said I.\n\"That,\" said the angel, \"is the couch of those who cry 'woe is me that I\ndid not--!'  Hark to them for a moment!\"  \"Woe is me that I did not\npurify myself in time from every kind of sin!\" says one.  \"Woe is me that\nI did not believe and repent before coming here!\" says the other.\n\nNext to the cell of too late repentance, and of debate after judgment had\nbeen passed, was the prison of the procrastinators, who would be every\ntime promising amendment, without ever fulfilling their promise.  \"When\nthis business is over,\" says one, \"I will turn over another leaf.\"  \"When\nthis obstacle is removed, I will become a new man yet,\" says the other.\nBut when the obstacle is removed, they are not a bit the nearer to\nreformation, for some other obstacle is always found to prevent them from\nmoving towards the gate of Righteousness, and if they do sometimes move a\nlittle, they are sure to turn back.  Next to this was the prison of vain\nconfidence, full of those who, on being commanded to abstain from their\nluxuriousness, drunkenness, or avarice, would say, \"God is merciful, and\nbetter than his word, and will not damn his creature for ever for so\nsmall a matter.\"  But here they were yelping forth blasphemy, and asking\nwhere is that mercy, which was boasted to be immeasurable.  \"Peace, hell-\ndogs,\" at length said a great lobster of a devil who was hearing them,\n\"peace! would you have mercy without doing any thing to obtain it?  Would\nyou have the Truth render his word false, for the sake of obtaining the\ncompany of such filthy dross as you?  Too much mercy has been shown to\nyou already.  You were given a Saviour, a comforter, and the apostles,\nwith books, sermons, and good examples, and will you never cease to\ndeafen us with bawling about mercy, where mercy has never been?\"  On\ngoing out from this fiery gulf, I could hear one puffing and shouting\nterribly, \"I knew no better, nothing was ever expended in teaching me my\nduty, and I could never find time to read or pray, because I was obliged\nto earn bread for myself and my poor family.\"  \"Aye,\" said a little\ncrooked devil who stood by, \"and did you never find time to tell pleasant\nstories?--no leisure for self vaunting during long winter evenings when I\nwas in the chimney corner?  Now, why did you not devote some of that time\nto learning to read and pray?  Who on Sundays used to come with me to the\ntavern, instead of going with the parson to church?  Who devoted many a\nSunday afternoon to vain prating about worldly things, or to sleep,\ninstead of meditation and prayer?  And have ye merely acted according to\nyour knowledge and your opportunities?  Peace, sirrah, with your lying\nnonsense!\"  \"O thou blood of a mad dog!\" said the lost man, \"it is not\nlong since you were whispering something very different into my ear, if\nyou had said that the other day, I should scarcely have come here.\"  \"O,\"\nsaid the devil, \"we do not mind telling you the bitter truth here, since\nwe need not fear that you will go back to tell tales.\"\n\nBelow this cell I saw a kind of vast pit, and in it what looked like an\ninfinite quantity of loathsome ordure, burning with a green flame, and on\ndrawing near, I was aware, from the horrid howling that proceeded from\nit, that it was composed of men piled one upon another, the horrible\nflames crackling meanwhile through them.  \"This hollow,\" said the angel,\n\"is the couch of those who say after committing some great sin, 'pooh!  I\nam not the first, I have plenty of companions;' and thus you see, they\n_do_ get plenty of companions, to verify their words and to increase\ntheir agony.\"  Opposite to this horrible place was a large cellar, where\nI could see men twisted, as tow is twisted, or hemp is spun.  \"Pray,\"\nsaid I \"who are these?\"  \"Panegyrists,\" said he, \"and out of sheer\nmockery to them, the devils are trying whether it is possible to twist\nthem as flexibly as they twisted their own discourse.\"  A little way\nbelow that cell, I could but just descry a sort of prison-pool, very\ndark, and in it things which had been men, having faces like the heads of\nwolf-dogs, and up to their jaws in bog, barking blasphemy and lies most\nfuriously, as long as they could get their sting above the mud.  At this\nmoment a troop of devils happening to pass by, some of these creatures\ncontrived to bite in the heels, ten or twelve of the devils who had\nbrought them thither.  \"Woe and destruction to you hell-dogs!\" said one\nof the devils who had been bit, \"you shall pay for this;\" and forthwith\ncommenced beating the bog, till the wretches were drowned in the stinking\nabysses.  \"Who,\" he then added, \"have deserved hell better than you, who\nhave been hunting up and devising gossip, and buzzing lies about from\nhouse to house, in order that you might laugh, after having set a whole\ncountry at loggerheads.  What more could one of ourselves have done?\"\n\"That,\" said the angel, \"is the bed of the tale-bearers, the slanderers,\nand the whisperers, and of all other envious curs, who are continually\nwounding people behind their backs with their hands or their tongues.\"\n\nFrom here we passed to a vast dungeon, by far the filthiest that I had\nseen yet, and the most replete with toads, adders, and stench.  \"This,\"\nsaid my guide, \"is the place of the men who expect to get to heaven\nbecause they have no ill intentions, that is, for being neither good nor\nbad.\"  Next to this pool of ill savour, I beheld a place where a vast\ncrowd were sitting, and without any thing visible to torment them,\ngroaning more piteously than any that I had hitherto heard in Hell.\n\"Mercy upon us,\" said I, \"what causes these people to complain more than\nthe rest, when they have neither torture nor devil near them?\"  \"O,\" said\nthe angel, \"the less torment they have without, the more they have\nwithin.  These are refractory heretics, atheists, antichristians, worldly-\nwise ones, abjurers of the faith, persecutors of the church, and an\ninfinity of such like wretches, who are abandoned entirely to the\npunishment of conscience, more tormenting than flame or devil, which\ndomineers over them ceaselessly and without restraint.  'I will never\npermit myself any more,' says she, 'to be drowned in ale, nor to be\nblinded by bribes, nor deafened by music and company, nor lulled nor\nconfounded by careless listlessness; for now I _will_ be listened to, and\nnever shall the clack of the hated truth cease in your ears.'  Longing is\never raging within the wretch for the happiness which he has lost; memory\nis ever reproaching him by saying how easy it was to be obtained, and the\nunderstanding showing him the magnitude of his loss, and the certainty\nthat nothing is now to be obtained, but indescribable gnawing for ever\nand ever.  So with these three instruments--namely longing, memory, and\nunderstanding--conscience is tearing the lost one, in a manner far worse\nthan all the devils in Hell could tear him with their claws.\"\n\nOn coming out of this wonderful nook I heard a confused talking, and\nafter every word such a ghastly laughter, as if five hundred devils were\ncasting their horns with laughing.  On approaching to see the cause of\nsuch a rarity as laughter in Hell, I discovered that it was only got up\nto incense two honorable gentlemen, newly arrived, who were insisting on\nbeing shown respect suitable to their gentility.  One of them was a round\nbodied squire, having with him a big roll of parchment--namely his map of\npedigree--out of which he recited from which of the fifty tribes of North\nWales he was sprung, and how many justices of the peace, and how many\nsheriffs his house had produced.  \"Come, come,\" said one of the devils,\n\"we know the merits of the greater part of your ancestry.  If you had\nbeen like your father or your great grandfather, we should not have\nventured to come in contact with you; but you are only the heir of the\npit of darkness, you dirty hell-dog!  You are scarcely worthy of a\nnight's lodging,\" added he, \"and yet we'll grant you some nook, wherein\nto await the dawn;\" and with that word the goblin with his pitchfork,\ngave him more than thirty tosses in the fiery air, until he at length\ncast him into an abyss out of sight.  \"That may do,\" said the other, \"for\na squire of half blood, but I hope you will behave better to a knight,\nwho has had the honor of serving the king in person, and can name twelve\nearls and fifty baronets belonging to his ancient house.\"  \"If your\nancestors and your ancient house be all that you can bring in your\ndefence, you may go the same road as he,\" said one of the devils,\n\"because we can scarcely remember one ancient house, of which some\noppressor, murderer, or strong thief did not lay the foundation, and\nwhich he did not transmit to people as froward as himself, or to lazy\ndrones, or drunken swine, to maintain whose extravagant magnificence, the\nvassals and the tenantry must be squeezed to death, whilst every handsome\ncolt or pretty cow in the neighbourhood must be parted with for the\npleasure of the mistress, and every lass or married woman, may consider\nherself fortunate, if she escape the pleasure of the master; the\nfreeholders, meanwhile, being either obliged to follow him like fawning\nhounds, rob themselves for his benefit, and sell their patrimonies at his\npleasure, or be subject to frowns and hatred, and be dragged into every\ndisagreeable and vexatious employment during their lives.\n\n\"O these little great country folks,\" continued the devil, \"how genteely\nthey swear in order to obtain credit with their mistresses, or with the\nshop-keepers; and when they have decked themselves out, O how insolently\nthey look upon many of the middling officers of the church and state, and\nhow much worse on the common people! as if they were a species of\nreptiles in comparison with themselves.  Woe is me! is not all blood of\nthe same color?  Did you not come all into the world by the same way?\"\n\"But, nevertheless, with your permission,\" said the knight, \"there are\nsome who are of much purer birth than others.\"  \"Destruction take you!\"\nsaid the goblin, \"there is not one carcass of you all better than the\nrest; you are all polluted with radical sin from Adam.  But, sir,\" said\nhe, \"if your blood be better than other blood, less scum will exude from\nyou when boiling; however, in order to be sure of its quality, it will be\nas well to search you with fire as well as water.\"  Thereupon a devil in\nthe shape of a chariot of fire received him, and the other in mockery\nlifted him into it, and away he was hurried like lightning.  After a\nshort time the angel caused me to look, and I could see the wretched\nknight suffering a terrible steeping in a frightful boiling furnace, in\ncompany with Cain, Nimrod, Esau, Tarquin, Nero, Caligula, and the others\nwho were the founders of genealogies, and were the first to set up arms\nof nobility.\n\nA little farther on, my guide caused me to look through the hollow of a\nrock, and there I beheld a number of coquettes briskly at work, doing and\nrepeating all their former follies upon earth.  Some were twisting their\nmouths, some were pulling their front locks with irons, some were\npainting themselves, some patching their faces with sooty ointments, to\nmake the yellow look more fair; some quite mad at seeing their visages,\nafter all their pains in coloring and variegating, more hideous than\nthose of the very devils, were endeavouring to break the mirrors, or were\ntearing off with their nails and their teeth the whole artificial\nblush--the ointments, skin, and flesh coming off all together.  The cries\nwhich they uttered occasionally were most dismal.  \"The curse of curses,\"\nwould one say, \"on my father, for making me marry when a girl, an old\nsapless stump, whose work in raising desires which he could not gratify\nhas driven me hither.\"  \"A thousand curses on my parents,\" would another\nsay, \"for sending me to a cloister to learn chastity; they would not have\ndone worse in sending me to a roundhead to learn generosity, or to a\nquaker to learn manners, than to a papist to learn honor.\"  \"Destruction,\"\nsaid another, \"seize my mother for her avaricious pride in preventing my\nobtaining a husband when I wanted one, and thus obliging me to purloin\nthe thing I might have honorably come by.\"  \"Hell, and double Hell to the\nlustful wretch of a gentleman, who first began tempting me,\" would the\nthird say; \"if he had not, betwixt fair and foul, broken the hedge, I had\nnot become a cell open to every body, nor had I come to this cell of\ndevils!\"  And then they fell to tearing themselves again.\n\nI was glad to quit such a pack of female dogs.  But before I had passed\non many steps, I was surprised to see another shoal of imprisoned\nwenches, twice more detestable than they.  Some had been changed into\ntoads, some into dragons, some into serpents who were swimming and\nhissing, glavering and butting in a fetid, stagnant pool, much larger\nthan Llyn Tegid. {84}  \"In the name of wonder,\" said I, \"what sort of\ncreatures may these be?\"  \"There are here,\" said he, \"four sorts of\nwenches, all notoriously bad.  First, there are procuresses, with some of\nthe principal lasses of their respective bevies about them.  Second,\ngossiping ladies with a swarm of their news-bearing hags.  Third,\nbouncing madams, and a pack of sneaking curs on both sides of them, for\nno man, but for downright fear of them, would ever go nigh them.  Fourth,\nscolds, become a hundred times more horrible than vipers, with their\npoisonous stings going creak, creak to all eternity.\"\n\n\"I had imagined that Lucifer had been a king of too much courtesy, to put\na gentlewoman of my rank with such little petty she-devils as these,\"\nsaid one, something like a winged serpent, only that she was much more\nfierce.  \"O that he would send here, seven hundred of the worst devils in\nHell in exchange for thee, thou poisonous hell-spawn!\" said another ugly\nviper.  \"O! many thanks to you,\" said a gigantic devil who overheard\nthem, \"we set too much value on our place and merits, to condescend to\nbecome mates of yours; and though we are willing to admit that you are\nfully as competent to torment people as the best of us, we would,\nnevertheless, not yield up our duties to you.\"  \"And yet,\" said the angel\nsoftly, \"Lucifer has another reason for keeping such a particular watch\nover these; he knows well, that if they should break out, they would turn\nall Hell topsy-turvy.\"  From here we went, still going downward, to a\nplace where I beheld a frightful den, in which was a horrible clamour,\nthe like of which I had never heard, for swearing, cursing, blaspheming,\nsnarling, groaning, and crying.  \"Who is here?\" said I.  \"This,\" said he,\n\"is the den of the thieves.  Here is a swarm of game-keepers, lawyers,\nstewards, and the old Judas in the midst of them; they have been\nexcessively annoyed at seeing the tailors and weavers above them, in a\nmore comfortable chamber.\"  Almost before I could turn myself, there came\na horse of a devil, bearing a physician and an apothecary, whom he cast\ndown amongst the pedlars and the duffers, for selling bad, rotten ware;\nbut they beginning to fume at being placed in such low company, one of\nthe devils said, \"stay, stay! you _do_ deserve a different place,\" and\ncast them down amongst the conquerors and the murderers.  There was a\nmultitude shut up here, for playing with false dice and concealing cards;\nbut before I could observe much, I heard, close by the door, a terrible\nrush and rustle, with a hie! hie! get on! ho! yo! hip!  I turned to see\nwhat it was; but perceiving nothing but horned goblins, I enquired of my\nguide whether there were cuckolds amongst the devils?  \"No,\" said he,\n\"they are in a particular cell.  These are drovers who would fain escape\nto the place of the Sabbath-breakers, and are driven hither against their\nwill.\"  At that word, I looked, and perceived their polls full of the\nhorns of sheep and cattle, and those who drove them, casting them down\nbeneath the feet of the bloodiest robbers.  \"Crouch there,\" said one;\n\"though you feared so much of old the thieves on London road, you were\nyourselves the very worst species of highwaymen, living upon the road and\nplundering, yes, and murdering poor families.  O how many poor creatures\ndid you not keep, with their hungry mouths open, in vain expectation of\nthe money for the sale of the beasts, which they had intrusted to you;\nand you in the mean time in Ireland, or in the King's Bench laughing at\nthem, or upon the road in the midst of your wine and harlots.\"\n\nOn quitting this den of furious heat, I got a sight of a lair, exceeding\nall the rest I had seen in Hell, but one, in frightful stinking\nfilthiness, where was a herd of accursed drunken swine, disgorging and\nswallowing, swallowing and disgorging, continually and without rest, the\nmost loathsome snivel.  The next pit was the couch of gluttony, where\nDives and his companions were upon their bellies, eating dirt and fire\nalternately, without any liquid ever.  A cave or two lower there was an\nexceedingly spacious kitchen, in which some were in a state of roasting\nand boiling, others frying and burning in an oven half heated.  \"Behold\nthe place of the merciless and the unfeeling,\" said the angel.  I then\nturned a little to the left hand, where there was a cell more light than\nany one which I had yet seen in Hell, and enquired what place it was?\n\"The abode of the infernal dragons,\" replied the angel, \"who are hissing\nand snarling, rushing and preying upon one another every minute.\"  I\napproached; and oh! the look which cannot be described was upon them, the\nwhole light was but the living fire in their eyes.  \"These are the seed\nof Adam,\" said my guide, \"morose wretches, and furious savage men; but,\nyonder,\" said he, \"are some of the old seed of the great dragon Lucifer;\"\nand verily, I could perceive not a whit more amiability in the one sort\nthan in the other.  In the next cellar were the misers, in a state of\nhorrible agony with their hearts cleaving to coffers of burning treasure,\nthe rust whereof was ceaselessly cankering them, because those hearts had\nbeen ceaselessly bent upon getting money--O the consuming torment, worse\nthan frenzy, that was now going on within them, with care and repentance.\nBelow this there was a hanging ledge, where there were some apothecaries\nground to dust, and stuffed into earthen pots amongst album grecum, dung\nof geese and swine, and many an old stinking ointment.\n\nWe were now journeying forward, continually descending, along the\nwilderness of Destruction, through innumerable torments, eternal and not\nto be described--from cell to cell, from cellar to cellar, and the last\nalways surpassing the others in horror and ghastliness; at last we\narrived at a vast porch, more cheerless than any thing we had seen\nbefore.  It was a very spacious porch, and the pathway through it, which\nwas frightfully steep, led to a kind of dusky nook of incredible ugliness\nand horror, and there the palace was.  At the upper end of the accursed\ncourt, among thousands of horrible objects, I could, by means of the\nradiance of my heavenly companion, perceive amidst the dreary darkness\ntwo feet of enormous magnitude, reaching to the roof of the whole\ninfernal firmament.  I enquired of my conductor what this horrible thing\nmight be?  \"Patience,\" said he, \"you shall obtain a more ample view of\nthis monster as you return; but move forward now to see the royal\npalace.\"\n\nWhilst we were proceeding down the porch of Horror, we heard a noise\nbehind us, as of an immense number of people.  Having turned aside to let\nthem pass forward, we beheld four distinct bands, and soon discovered\nthat the four princesses of the city of Destruction, were bringing their\nsubjects as presents to their father.  I recognised the princess Pride,\nnot only by her being before the others, but also by her habit of\nstumbling every moment, for want of looking beneath her feet.  She had\nwith her a vast many kings, potentates, courtiers, gentlemen, and pompous\npeople, many quakers, innumerable females of every rank and degree.\n\nThe princess Lucre was next, with her silly, mean figure, bringing along\nwith her very many of the money loving race--such as usurers, lawyers,\nextortioners, overseers, game-keepers, harlots, and some ecclesiastics\nalso.  Next to these was the amiable princess Pleasure and her daughter\nFolly, conducting their subjects--consisting of players at dice, cards,\ndraughts, games of legerdemain, and of poets, musicians, tellers of old\nstories, drunkards, ladies of pleasure, debauches, pretty fellows, with a\nthousand million of all kinds of baubles, to serve now as instruments of\npunishment for the lost fools.  After these three had gone with their\nprisoners to the palace, to receive their judgment--behold Hypocrisy, the\nlast of all, conducting a more numerous rout than any of the others, of\nall nations and ages, of town and country, gentle and simple, males and\nfemales.  At the tail of the two-faced multitudes we advanced till we\ncame in sight of the palace, through many dragons and horned sprites, and\nwarriors of Hell, the black wardens of the gloomy pandemonium, I all the\ntime crouching very carefully within my veil.  We entered the frightful\nand awful edifice, every corner of which abounded with horror.  The walls\nwere immense rocks of glowing adamant, the pavement of an insufferably\nsharp flint, the roof of burning steel, meeting like an arch of greenish-\nblue and dusky-red flames, and in its size and its heat, resembling an\nimmense vaulted baking oven.\n\nOpposite to the door, on a flaming throne, the Arch-Fiend was seated, his\nprincipal lost angels on both sides of him, on thrones of fire terrible\nto behold--sitting according to their former rank in the regions of\nlight, when they were amiable messengers.  It would only be in vain to\nendeavour to relate how obscene and horrible they were; and the longer I\nlooked at any one of them, seven times more hideous he appeared.  In the\nmidst, above the head of Lucifer, was a vast fist, holding a very\nfrightful bolt.  The princesses, after making their obeisance, returned\nto the world to their charges, without making any stay.  As soon as they\nhad departed, a gigantic, wide-mouthed devil, by command of the king,\nuttered a shout louder than a hundred discharges of artillery, as loud if\npossible as the last trumpet, for the purpose of summoning the infernal\nparliament.  And lo! the rabble of Hell instantly filled the palace and\nthe porch in every shape, after the image and similitude of the principal\nsin, which each delighted to thrust upon mankind.  After commanding\nsilence, Lucifer, with his look directed to the potentates nearest to\nhim, began to speak, very graciously, in the following manner:--\n\n\"Ye potentates of Hell! princes of the black abodes of Despair!  Though\nby our confederacy we have lost possession of those thrones, from which\nwe once shone resplendent through the higher regions; our confederacy\nwas, nevertheless, a glorious one, as we aimed at nothing less than the\nwhole.  And we have not lost the whole either; for lo! the extensive and\nprofound regions, to the extremest wilds of vast Destruction, are yet\nbeneath our sway.  It is true we reign in horrible agony; but spirits of\nour eminence prefer ruling in torment to serving in ease.  And besides\nthis, we are on the eve of obtaining another world, more than three parts\nof the earth having been beneath my banner for a long time.\n\n\"And although the Almighty Enemy, sent his own son to die for the beings\nof that world; yet I, by my baubles, obtain ten souls, for every one\nwhich he obtains by his crucified son.  And although I have not been able\nto reach him, who sits in the high places and discharges the invincible\nthunderbolts, yet revenge of some kind is sweet.  Let us complete the\ndestruction of the remnant of human beings, still in the favour of our\ndestroyer.  I remember the time, when you caused them to be burnt by\nmultitudes and cities, and even the whole race of the earth, by means of\nthe flood, to be swept down to us in the fire.  But at present, though\nyour strength and your natural cruelty are not a whit diminished, yet you\nare become in some degree inactive; if that had not been the case, we\nmight long since have destroyed the few who are godly, and have caused\nthe earth to be united with this our vast empire.  But know, ye black\nministers of my displeasure, that unless ye be more resolute and more\ndiligent, and make the most of the short time which yet remains to you\nfor doing evil, ye shall experience the weight of my anger, in torments\nnew and strange to the oldest of you.  This I swear by the deepest Hell,\nand the vast, eternal pit of Darkness.\"  And, thereupon, he frowned, till\nthe palace became seven times more gloomy than before.\n\nMoloch now arose, one of the infernal potentates, and after making his\nobeisance to the king, he said, \"O emperor of the Air! mighty ruler of\nDarkness! no one ever doubted my propensity to malice and cruelty; the\nsufferings of others have been, and still are, my supreme delight.  It is\nas capital sport to me, to hear the shrieks of infants perishing in the\nfire as of old, when thousands of sucklings were sacrificed to me outside\nof Jerusalem.  When was I ever slack at my work?  Since the return of the\ncrucified Enemy to the supreme abodes, I have employed myself in slaying\nand burning his subjects.  I did all I could, to destroy the Christians\nfrom the face of the earth, during the reigns of ten emperors; and many\nan awful butchery I have made of them in modern times, both in Paris and\nEngland, to say nothing of other places: but what are we the nearer to\nour object for all this?  The One above has caused the tree to grow,\nafter its branches have been severed; and all our efforts, are nothing\nbetter than showing one's teeth, without the power of biting.\"  \"Pshaw!\"\nsaid Lucifer, \"a fig for such heartless legions as ye.  I will no longer\nrely upon you!  I will do the work myself, and the glory thereof I will\nshare with no one.  I will go to the earth in my own kingly person, and\nwill swallow up the whole; not one man, henceforth, shall be found on the\nearth to adore the Almighty.\"  Thereupon he gave a furious bound,\nattempting to set off, in a firmament of living fire; but, behold! the\nfist above his head shook the terrific bolt till he trembled in the midst\nof his frenzy, and before he could move far, an invisible hand lugged the\nold fox back by his chain, in spite of his teeth.  Whereupon he became\nseven times more frantic; his eyes were more terrible than lightnings,\nblack thick smoke burst from his nostrils, and dark green flames from his\nmouth and entrails: he gnawed his chain in his agony, and hissed forth\ndireful blasphemy, and the most frightful curses.\n\nBut perceiving how vain it was to seek to break loose, or to struggle\nwith the Almighty, he returned to his place and proceeded with his\ndiscourse somewhat more calmly, but with ten times more malice.  \"The\nOmnipotent Thunderer has vanquished me, and he alone could have done so.\nTo him I submit.  Against him all my fury is in vain; I will, therefore,\ndirect it against nearer and lower objects, and pour it in showers upon\nthose who are yet under my banner, and within the reach of my chain.\nArise, ye ministers of Destruction! rulers of the unquenchable fire! and\nas my wrath and my venom flow forth and my malice boileth out, do ye\nassiduously spread the whole tide amongst the damned, particularly the\nChristians.  Urge the instruments of torture to the utmost--devise as\nmany more as you can--double the fire and the boiling, until the very\ncauldrons be overturned; and when they are in the most extreme,\ninexpressible torture, mock, deride, and upbraid them; and when your\nwhole stock of ironry and bitterness is expended, hasten to me, and you\nshall obtain more.\"\n\nThere had been for some time a comparative silence in Hell, and the more\ncruel tortures had been suspended; but now the stillness which Lucifer\nhad caused was broken, when the ghastly butchers rushed like wild hungry\nbears upon their prisoners.  O then there arose an oh! oh! oh! a wail,\nand universal howling, more loud than the sound of cataracts, or the\ntumult of an earthquake, so that Hell became seven times more frightful.\nI should have swooned if my dear companion had not rendered me\nassistance.  \"Take now,\" said he, \"plenty of the water, that you may\nobtain strength to see things yet more horrible than these.\"  But\nscarcely had these words proceeded from his mouth, when, lo! the\ncelestial Justice, who sits above the precipice keeping the gate of Hell,\ncame scourging three men with a rod of fiery scorpions.  \"Ha! ha!\" said\nLucifer, \"here are three right reverend gentlemen, whom Justice himself\nhas deigned to conduct to my kingdom.\"  \"Oh! woe is me,\" said one of the\nthree, \"who asked him to trouble himself?\"  \"Be it known,\" said Justice,\nwith a glance which made the devils tremble till they knocked one against\nanother, \"that it is the will of the Great Creator, that I should myself\nbring these three accursed murderers to their home.  Sirrah,\" said he to\none of the devils, \"unbolt for me the prison of the murderers, where are\nCain and Nero, Bonner, Bradshaw, Ignatius, and innumerable others of a\nsimilar description.\"  \"Alas, alas! we never killed any body,\" said one\nof the prisoners.  \"No, because you did not get time and because you were\nprevented,\" said Justice.  When the den was opened, there came out such a\nhorrible puff of bloody flame, and such a yell as if a thousand dragons\nwere giving their last gasp in their death agony.  Into this den Justice\nhurled his prisoners; {93} and on his way back he breathed obliquely,\nsuch a tempest of fiery whirlwinds upon the Arch-Fiend and all his\npotentates, as he passed by them, that Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan, Moloch,\nAbaddon, Asmodeus, Dagon, Apollyon, Belphegor, Mephistophiles, and all\nthe other principal demons were whisked away, and tumbled headlong into a\nkind of gulf, which was opening and closing in the midst of the palace,\nand whose aspect was more horrible, and whose steam was more frightful\nthan the aspect and vapour of any gulf which I had previously seen.\nBefore I could enquire of the angel as to what it was, he said, \"that is\na hole which leads to another vast world.\"  \"Pray,\" said I, \"what is the\nname of that world?\"  \"It is called,\" said he, \"Unknown, or extremest\nHell, the habitation of the devils, and the place to which they are at\npresent gone.  The vast wilderness, over part of which you have come, is\ncalled the country of Despair, a place intended for the lost until the\nDay of Judgment, when it will fall into extremest, bottomless Hell, and\nthe two will become one.  When that has happened one of ourselves will\ncome and close the gate of the whole region of horror upon the devils and\nthe damned, which gate shall never, to all eternity, be opened for them.\nIn the meantime, however, permission is given to the devils to come to\nthese cooler regions, in order to torment the lost souls.  Yea, they\noften obtain permission to go even into the air, and about the earth, to\ntempt men to the destructive paths, which lead to this dismal prison,\nfrom which there is no escape.\"  In the midst of this history, and whilst\nI was in great surprise at seeing the mouth of Unknown, so much\nsurpassing in horror the jaws of upper Hell, I could hear a prodigious\nnoise of arms, and loud discharges from one side, answered by what seemed\nto be hoarse thunders from the other; the rocks of Death, meanwhile,\nrebellowing the tumult.\n\n\"That is the sound of war,\" said I.  \"Is there war then in Hell?\"  \"There\nis,\" said the angel; \"and it is impossible that there should not be here\ncontinual war.\"  Whilst we were moving out, to see what was the matter, I\nbeheld the mouth of Unknown opening, and casting up thousands of candles,\nburning with a frightful green flame.  These were Lucifer and his\npotentates, who had contrived to subdue the tempest.  But when the Arch\nFiend heard the noise of war, he became more pale than Death, and began\nto call and gather together bands of his old experienced soldiers to\nquell the tumult.  At this moment he stumbled against a little puppy of\nan imp, who had escaped between the feet of the combatants.  \"What is the\nmatter?\" said the king.  \"Such a matter as will endanger your crown,\nunless you look to yourself,\" said the imp.  Close behind him came\nanother fiendish courier, bawling hoarsely, \"you are plotting disquiet\nfor others, look now to your own repose.  Yonder are the Turks, the\nPapists, and the bloody-handed Roundheads, in three bands, filling all\nthe plains of the dark abodes, committing terrible outrages, and turning\nevery thing topsy-turvy.\"  \"How came they out?\" said the Arch Fiend,\nlooking worse than Demigorgon.  \"The Papists,\" said the messenger, \"broke\nout of their Purgatory, I do not know how; and then on account of an old\ngrudge, they went to attack the back gate of the Paradise of Mahomet, and\nlet all the Turks out of their prison; and afterwards, in the hubbub, the\nseed of Cromwell found some means to break out of their cells.\"  Then\nLucifer turned about and looked under his throne, where were all the lost\nkings, and caused Cromwell to be kept close in his kennel; and likewise\nall the emperors of the Turks, under watch and ward.  He then hastened\nwith his legions along the black wilds of Darkness, each obtaining light\nfrom the fire which was incessantly tormenting his body.  Guided by the\nhorrid uproar, the fiends advanced courageously towards the combatants;\nthen silence was enjoined in the name of the king, and Lucifer enquired,\n\"what is the cause of this disturbance in my kingdom?\"  \"Please, your\ninfernal majesty,\" said Mahomet, \"a dispute arose between me and pope\nLeo, as to whether my Koran or the creed of Rome, had rendered you most\nservice; and whilst we were at it, a pack of Roundheads broke their\nprison and put in their oar; asserting that their league and covenant,\ndeserved more respect at your hands than either.  Thus from disputing we\nhave come to blows, and from words to arms.  But at present, as your\nmajesty has returned from Unknown, I will refer the matter to yourself.\"\n\"Stay, we shall not let you escape thus!\" said pope Julius; and to it\nagain they went, tooth and nail, in the most furious manner, till the\nstrokes were like an earthquake.  O you should have seen the three armies\nof the damned, tearing one another to pieces over the expanse of the\nburning plains; and each individual body that was rent to pieces,\nbecoming joined again serpent fashion.  At last Lucifer caused his old\nsoldiers, the champions of Hell, to pull them from each other, and it was\nno easy matter to do so.\n\nWhen the tumult was hushed, pope Clement began to speak.  \"O emperor of\nHorrors! as no throne has ever performed more faithful and universal\nservice to the infernal crown, over a great part of the world, for eleven\nhundred years, than the papal chair, I hope you will not suffer any one\nto contend with us for your favour.\"  \"Well,\" said a Scott of Cromwell's\narmy, \"though the Koran has done great service for eight hundred years,\nand the superstition of the Pope for a much longer period, yet has the\ncovenant done more since it came out, than the other two have ever done.\nMoreover it is notorious that, whilst the votaries of those two are every\nday rapidly diminishing, the followers of the covenant are increasing in\nnumbers, over the whole face of the world, and particularly in the island\nof your enemies Britain, whose capital, London, the most noble city under\nthe sun, abounds with them.\"  \"Pshaw, pshaw!\" said Lucifer, \"if I am\nrightly informed, the covenant itself is under a cloud, and you are no\nlonger what you were.  And now I have one thing to tell the whole of\nyou--which is, that, whatever ye may do in other kingdoms, I will not\npermit you to trouble mine.  Therefore rest peaceably, under penalty of\nworse torments corporeal and spiritual.\"  At those words many of the\ndevils dropped their tails between their hoofs, and all the damned\nsneaked away to their holes, for fear of a change for the worse.\n\nAfter causing the whole of them to be locked up in their prisons, and the\ncareless wardens to be deprived of their office, for having permitted\nthem to break out, Lucifer and his counsellors returned to the palace,\nand sat down again, according to their rank, upon their fiery thrones.\nAfter silence had been called and the place cleared, a huge,\nwry-shouldered devil, placed a back-load of fresh prisoners before the\nbar.  \"Is this the road to Paradise,\" said one, (for they all pretended\nnot to know where they were.)  \"Or if this be Purgatory,\" said another,\n\"we have with us an authority, under the hand of the Pope, to go straight\nto Paradise without tarrying any where a minute.  Therefore show us the\nway, or, by the Pope's toe, we will cause him to punish you.\"  Ha! ha!\nha!--ho! ho! ho! said eight hundred devils; and Lucifer himself, parted\nhis jaws half a yard in a kind of bitter laugh.  The others were\nconfounded at this; but one said, \"well, if we have lost our way in the\ndarkness, we would pay any one who would guide us.\"  \"Ha! ha!\" said\nLucifer, \"you will pay the last farthing before ye go.\"  Thereupon each\nfell to searching for his money, but found, to his sorrow, that he had\nleft his breeches behind him.  Quoth the Arch Fiend, \"you left Paradise\non the left hand, above the lofty mountains; and, notwithstanding, it was\nso easy to come down here, it is next to impossible to go back, owing to\nthe nature of the country, through which the road back lies.  For it is a\ncountry abounding with mountains of burning iron, immense dismal crags,\nsheets of eternal ice, and roaring, headlong cataracts; a country, in\nshort, far too difficult for you to travel, unless indeed you have talons\nof the true devilish length.  Come, come,\" said he to his myrmidons,\n\"take these blockheads to our paradise, to their companions.\"  At this\nmoment I could hear the voice of some people who were coming, swearing\nand cursing in a frightful manner.  \"O the Devil! the blood of the Devil!\na hundred thousand devils! a thousand million devils take me if I will go\nfarther!\" but, nevertheless, they were cast slap down before the judge.\n\"Here you have,\" said the carrier, \"a load of as good fire wood as the\nbest in Hell.\"  \"What are they?\" said Lucifer.  \"Masters of the genteel\nart of cursing and swearing,\" replied the devil; \"men who understand the\nlanguage of Hell quite as well as ourselves.\"  \"You lie in your mouth, by\nthe Devil!\" said one of them.  \"Sirrah! do you take my name in vain?\"\nsaid the Arch Fiend.  \"Quick! and hang them by their tongues to the\nburning precipice yonder, and if they call for the Devil, be ready to\nserve them; yea, if they call for a thousand, let them be satisfied.\"\nWhen these were gone, lo! a giant of a devil vociferated to have the bar\ncleared, and flung down a man whom he bore.  \"What have you brought\nthere?\" said Lucifer.  \"A tavern-keeper,\" replied the other.  \"What,\"\nsaid the king, \"_one_ tavern-keeper!  Why they are in the habit of coming\nto the tune of five or six thousand.  Have you not been out, sirrah, for\nten years, and yet you bring us but one? and he one who has done us much\nmore service in the world than yourself, you lazy, stinking dog!\"  \"You\nare too ready to condemn me, before listening to me,\" he replied.  \"This\nfellow only was given to my charge, and, behold! I am clear of him.  But\nstill I have sent to you from his house, many a worthless chap, after\nguzzling down the maintenance of his family; many a dicer and\ncard-player; many a genteel swearer; many a pleasant, good kind of belly\ngod; and many a careless servant.\"  \"Well,\" said the Arch Fiend, \"though\nthe tavern-keeper has merited to be amongst the flatterers below us, take\nhim at present to his brethren, in the cell of the liquid murderers; to\nthe thousands of apothecaries and poisoners, who are there for making\ndrink to kill their customers--boil him well for not having brewed better\nale.\"  \"With your permission,\" said the tavern-keeper shivering, \"I have\ndeserved no such treatment.  Must not every trade live?\"  \"And could you\nnot live,\" said the Fiend, \"without encouraging dissipation and gaming,\nuncleanness, drunkenness, oaths, quarrels, slander and lies? and would\nyou, hell-hound, live at present better than ourselves!  Pray what evil\nhave we here that you had not at home, the punishment solely excepted?\nAnd having told you this bitter truth, I will add, that the infernal heat\nand cold were not unknown to you either.\n\n\"Did you not see sparks of our fire in the tongues of the swearers and of\nthe scolds, when seeking to get their husbands home?  Was there not\nplenty of the unquenchable fire in the mouth of the drunkard, and in the\neyes of the brawler?  And could you not perceive something of the\ninfernal cold in the lovingness of the spendthrift, and in your own\ncivility to your customers, whilst any thing remained with them--in the\ndrollery of the buffoons, in the praise of the envious and the backbiter,\nin the promises of the wanton, or in the shanks of the good companions\nfreezing beneath your tables?  Art thou unacquainted with Hell, when the\nhouse thou didst keep was Hell?  Go, hell-dog, to thy punishment.\"\n\nAt this moment appeared ten devils with their burdens, which they cast\nupon the fiery floor, puffing terribly.  \"What have you there?\" said\nLucifer.  \"We have brought,\" said one of the fiendish carriers, \"five\nthings which were called kings the day before yesterday.\"  (I looked\nattentively and beheld in one of them old Louis of France.)  \"Fling them\nhere,\" said the king; whereupon they were flung to the other crowned\nheads, under the feet of Lucifer.\n\nIt was not long before I heard the sound of a brazen trumpet, and a\ncrying of room! room! room!  After waiting a little time, what should be\ncoming but a drove of sessions folk, the devils carrying six lumps of\njustices and a thousand of their fry--consisting of lawyers, attornies,\nclerks, recorders, bailiffs, catchpoles, and pettifoggers of the courts.\nI was surprised that none of them attempted to cross-question; but they\nperceived that the matter was gone against them too far, and so, not one\nof these learned disputers opened his mouth; only a pettifogger of the\ncourts said, that he would lay a plaint of false imprisonment against\nLucifer.  \"You shall now have cause enough to complain,\" said the Fiend,\n\"and yet never have an opportunity of seeing a court with your eyes.\"\nThen, putting on his red cap, Lucifer, with an arrogant, insufferable\nlook, said, \"take the justices to the dungeon of Pontius Pilate and Mr.\nBradshaw, who condemned king Charles.  Parch the lawyers in company with\nthe murderers of Sir Edmund Bury Godfrey, {100} and their double-tongued\nbrethren, who dispute with one another, for no other purpose than to be\nthe ruin of any one who comes betwixt them.  Let them greet that\nprovident lawyer--for they will find him here--who offered on his death\nbed a thousand pounds for a clear conscience.  Let them greet him, and\nask, whether he is now willing to give any thing more.  Roast them with\ntheir own parchment and papers; hang the pettifoggers above them, with\ntheir nostrils downwards, in the roasting chimneys, to receive the smoke,\nand to see whether they can get their belly-full of law.  As for the\nrecorders, let them be cast among the forestallers, who detain the corn\nor buy it up and mix it, and then sell the unsound for double the price\nof the pure corn; just as the former demand double the fees for _wrong_,\nwhich were formerly given for _right_.  As for the catchpoles, leave them\nat liberty to hunt vermin; or send them to the world, among the dingles\nand brakes, to seize the debtors of the infernal crown--for what devil\namong you will do the work better than they?\"  At this moment twenty\ndevils with packs on their shoulders, like Scotchmen, mounted before the\nthrone of Despair, and what had they got, on enquiry, but gipsies.  \"Ho!\"\nsaid Lucifer, \"how did ye know the fortunes of others so well, without\nknowing that your own fortune was leading ye to this prison.\"  But the\ngipsies said not a word in reply, being confounded at beholding faces\nhere more ugly than their own.  \"Hurl them into our deepest dungeon,\"\nsaid Lucifer, to the fiends, \"and don't starve them; we have here neither\ncats nor rush-lights to give them, but let them have a toad between them,\nevery ten thousand years, provided they are quiet, and do not deafen us\nwith their gibberish and clibberty clabber.\"  Next to these there came, I\nshould imagine, about thirty husbandmen.  Every one was surprised to see\nso many of them, people of their honest calling seldom coming to Hell;\nbut they were not from the same neighbourhood, nor for the same offences.\nSome were for raising the markets; many for refusing to pay tithes, and\ncheating the minister of his rights; others for leaving their work, to\nfollow gentry a hunting, and breaking their legs in endeavouring to leap\nwith them; some for working on Sundays; some for carrying their sheep and\ncattle, in their heads to church, instead of musing on the Word; others\nfor roguish bargains.  When Lucifer began to question them, oh! they were\nall as pure as gold; none was aware of having committed any thing which\ndeserved such a lot.  You will not believe what a crafty excuse every one\nhad to conceal his fault, notwithstanding he was in Hell on account of\nit, and this was only done out of malice, to thwart Lucifer and to\nendeavour to make the righteous Judge, who had damned them appear unjust.\nBut you would have been yet more surprised at the dexterity with which\nthe Arch Fiend laid bare their crimes, and answered their vain excuses\nhome.  But when these were receiving the last infernal sentence, there\ncame forty scholars before the court, mounted on capering devils, more\nugly, if possible, than Lucifer himself.  And when the scholars heard the\nhusbandmen arguing, they began to excuse themselves the more confidently.\nBut, oh! how ready the old Serpent was at answering them too,\nnotwithstanding their craft, and their learning.\n\nBut as it was my fortune to hear similar disputations at another\ntribunal, I will there give the history of the whole, in one mass; and\nwill at present relate to you what I next saw.  Scarcely had Lucifer\nuttered judgment upon these people, and sent them, for the cool\nimpertinence of their reasons, to the vast sheet, in the country of the\neternal ice, the teeth of the wretches beginning to chatter before they\nsaw their prison, when Hell began once more, to resound awfully with\nterrible blows, harsh blustering thunders, and every sound of war.  I\ncould see Lucifer turn black, and become like a statue; at this moment,\nin rushed a little crooked, horned devil, panting and shivering.  \"What\nis the matter?\" said Lucifer.  \"The most perilous to you of all matters\nsince Hell has been Hell,\" said the imp; \"all the extremes of the kingdom\nof Darkness, have broken out against you, and against one another;\nparticularly those who had any old field in common.  They are now at it,\ntooth and nail, so that it is impossible to tear them from each other.\n\n\"The soldiers are at loggerheads with the physicians, for carrying on\ntheir trade of slaughter; there is a swarm of usurers at loggerheads with\nthe lawyers, for seeking to spoil their trade; the jurymen and the\nduffers are pummelling the gentlemen, for swearing and cursing without\nnecessity; whereas, swearing and cursing formed part of their trade; the\nharlots, and their associates, and millions of other old friends and\nacquaintances, have fallen out, and are all in shatters.\n\n\"But worse than all, is the contest between the old misers and their own\nchildren, for dissipating their wealth and their money.  'Our property,'\nsay the pigtails, 'cost us much pain, whilst we were upon the earth, and\nis causing us immense suffering _here_ for ever, yet ye have flung it all\naway at ducks and drakes.'  And the children, on the other hand, are\ncursing and tearing the old skin-flints, most furiously, charging their\nfathers with being the authors of their misery, by leaving them twenty\ntimes _too much_, to distract them with pride and dissipation; whereas, a\n_little_, with a blessing, might have made them happy in both their\nstates of existence.\"  \"Well,\" said Lucifer, \"enough! enough! we have\nmore need of arms than words.  Sirrah, this hubbub is owing to some great\nneglect; go back, and pry into every watch, and discover who has been\nneglectful; and what dangerous characters have been permitted to escape,\nfor there are some evils abroad, that are not known.\"  Away he went, at\nthe word, and in the meanwhile, Lucifer and his potentates arose in\nterror, and exceeding consternation, and caused the boldest bands of the\nblack angels to be assembled.  When these were marshalled, he put himself\nat the head of his own peculiar band, and marched forth to quell the\ninsurrection, whilst the potentates went other ways with their legions.\n\nBefore the royal troop had gone any great distance, gleaming like the\nlightning of the black abodes, (and we behind them,) behold the hubbub\nadvanced to meet them.  \"Silence, in the name of the king,\" said a\nfiendish herald.  There was no hearing; it was easier to tear the old\ncrocodile from his prey than one of these.\n\nBut when the old tried soldiers of Lucifer broke into the midst of them,\nthe buzzing, the butting, and the blows began to slacken.  \"Silence, in\nthe name of Lucifer,\" said the hoarse cryer again.  \"What is the matter?\"\nsaid the king; \"and who are these?\"  \"There is nothing particularly the\nmatter,\" was the answer; \"but the drovers, happening in the general\ncommotion to come in contact with the cuckolds, they went mutually to\nbutting, to try whose horns were hardest; and this butting might have\ngone on for ever, if your horned champions had not interfered.\"  \"Well,\"\nsaid Lucifer, \"since you are all so ready with your arms, turn along with\nme to quell other rioters.\"  But when it was buzzed about among the other\nrebels, that Lucifer was coming with three horned legions against them,\neach slunk away to his lair.\n\nThus Lucifer advanced without opposition, along the wildernesses of\nDestruction, endeavouring to ascertain what was the commencement of the\ndisturbance, but could obtain no information.  After a little time,\nhowever, one of the spies of the king returned, quite out of breath.  \"O\nmost noble Lucifer!\" said he, \"prince Moloch has quieted part of the\nNorth and has scattered thousands over the sheets of ice; but three or\nfour terrible evils are still out on the wind.\"  \"Who are they?\" said\nLucifer.  \"_Slanderer_, and _Meddler_, and _Litigious Pettifogger_,\" said\nhe, \"have broken their prisons and are at liberty.\"  \"Then it would be no\nwonder,\" said the Arch Fiend, \"if there should be yet more disturbance.\"\n\nAt this moment there came another, who had been on the look-out towards\nthe South, with the information that the evil had begun to break out\nthere; but that three had been taken, who had previously turned every\nthing topsy-turvy in the West, and these three were _Madam Bouncer_,\n_Contriver_, and_ Coxcomb_.  \"Well,\" said Satan, who was standing next\nbut one to Lucifer, \"since I tempted Adam from his garden, I have never\nyet seen from his seed, so many evils out upon one piece of business.\n\n\"Bouncer, Coxcomb, and Contriver on the one side,\" he added, \"and on the\nother Slanderer, Pettifogger, and Meddler are a compound, enough to make\na thousand devils sweat their bowels out.\"  \"It is no wonder,\" said\nLucifer, \"that they are so detested by every body on earth, when they are\nable to cause us so much trouble here.\"  A little farther on, a great\nbouncing lady struck against the king, as she was moving backwards.  \"Ho!\nmy aunt of the breeches,\" said a hoarse devil, \"good night to you.\"  \"Yes,\nyour aunt, indeed! on what side pray?\" said she, very wrathful, because\nshe was not called madam.\n\n\"A pretty king are you, sir Lucifer,\" said she, \"to keep such unmannerly\nblockheads; it is a sin that so large a kingdom should be under one so\nincompetent to govern them.  O that I were made deputy over it!\"  At this\nmoment behold the _Coxcomb_, nodding his head in the dark, \"Your servant,\nsir,\" he would say to one over his shoulder.--\"I hope you are quite\nwell,\" said he to another.--\"Is there any service which I can render\nyou,\" to a third, smiling conceitedly.--\"Your beauty ravishes my heart,\"\nsaid he to the bouncing wench.  \"Oh! oh! away with this hell-dog,\" said\nshe; whilst every one cried, \"away with this new tormentor!  Hell upon\nHell is he!\"  \"Bind him and her head to tail,\" said Lucifer.\n\nAfter a little time, behold _Courts Comprised_ held betwixt two devils.\n\"O ho! angel of patience,\" said Lucifer, \"are you come?  Hold him fast on\nyour peril,\" said he to the satellites.  Before we had advanced far,\nthere came the _Contriver_ and the _Slanderer_ bound betwixt forty\ndevils, and whispering in each others ears.  \"O most mighty Lucifer!\"\nsaid the _Contriver_, \"I am exceedingly grieved to see so much\ndisturbance in your dominions, but I will teach you a way to prevent such\nin future, if you will but grant me a hearing.  You only need, under\npretence of a general parliament, to summon all the damned to the glowing\npandemonium, and then cause the devils to cast them headlong into the\nthroat of _Unknown_, and the gulf to be closed over them, and then, I\nwarrant you, they will give you no more trouble.\"  \"See,\" said Lucifer,\nfrowning very horribly on the _Contriver_, \"the universal Meddler is\nstill behind.\"  On returning again to the porch of the infernal palace,\nwho should come with the fairest face imaginable to meet the king but the\n_Meddler_.  \"O my liege,\" said he, \"I have a word for you.\"  \"Perhaps I\nhave one or two for you,\" said the Fiend.  \"I have been,\" continued the\nMeddler, \"over half _Destruction_, to observe how your affairs are\nstanding.  You have many officers in the East doing nothing at all; but\nsitting still instead of looking to the torments of their prisoners, or\nkeeping guard over them, and this has been the cause of all this great\ndisturbance.  Besides,\" said he, \"many of your devils, and your damned\ntoo, whom you dispatched to the world to tempt folks, are not returned,\nthough their time is out; and others have arrived in a sculking manner,\nand not given an account of their errands.\"\n\nThen Lucifer caused the herald to proclaim another parliament; and lo!\nbefore you could turn your hand, all the potentates and satellites were\nmet together, to hold the infernal sessions again.  The first thing which\nwas done was to change the officers, and to cause a place to be made\nabout the throat of Unknown, for the reception of the Coxcomb, the\nbouncing lady, and the rest; the two first were tied nose to nose, and\nthe other rioters tail to tail.  Then a law was promulgated, that whoever\nshould henceforth neglect his duty, whether imp or lost man, should be\ncast there among them until the day of judgment.  At these words you\nmight see all the goblins--yea, Lucifer himself--tremble and look\nagitated.  The next thing was to call some devils and some damned to\nreckoning, who had been sent to the world to hunt up recruits: the devils\ngave a very good account of themselves; but some of the damned were lame\nin their reckoning, and were sent to the hot school, where they were\nscourged with twisted fiery serpents, for not learning their lesson\nbetter.\n\n\"Hear my complaint,\" said a little informing devil.  \"Here is a pretty\nwoman when trimmed out, who was sent up to the world, to hunt subjects\nfor you by means of their hearts; and to whom did she offer herself, but\nto a hard-working labourer coming home late from his occupation, who\ninstead of enjoying himself with her, went upon his knees to pray against\nthe Devil and his angels: at another time, she went to a sick man.\"  \"Ha!\"\nsaid Lucifer, \"cast her to that lost useless wench, who loved of yore\nEinion ab Gwalehmai, {108} of Anglesey.\"  \"Stay,\" said the fair one,\n\"this is but the first offence.  It is not yet above a year, since the\nday when I breathed my last, and was damned to your accursed government.\"\n\"She speaks true, O king of Torments!  It is not yet a year by three\nweeks,\" said the devil who had brought her there.  \"Therefore,\" said she,\n\"how would you have me so well versed as the damned, who have been here\nfor three hundred, or out abroad depredating for five hundred years.  If\nyou desire from me better service, let me go into the world another time\nor two unchastised; and if I do not bring you twenty harlot-mongers, for\nevery year that I am out, inflict upon me whatever punishment you\nplease.\"  But the verdict went against her, and she was condemned to\npunishment for a hundred long years, that she might remember better the\nsecond time.\n\nAt this moment, behold another devil pushing a fellow forward.  \"Here you\nhave,\" said he, \"a pretty dog of a messenger.  As he was prowling about\nhis old neighbourhood, above stairs, the other night, he saw a thief\ngoing to steal a stallion, and could not so much as help him to catch the\nhorse without showing himself, frightening the thief so by his horrible\nappearance, that he took warning and became an honest man from that\ntime.\"  \"With the permission of the court,\" said the fellow, \"if the\nthief had got the gift from _above_ to see me, could I help it?  But at\nworst this is a single peccadillo,\" said he; \"it is not above a hundred\nyears since the day which terminated my mortal career, yet how many of my\nfriends and neighbours have I not tempted hither after me, during that\ntime?  May I be in the deepest pit, if I have not as much inclination for\nthe trade as the best of you; but now and then the craftiest will err.\"\n\"Here,\" said Lucifer, \"cast him to the school of the fairies, who are yet\nunder the rod for their mischievous conduct of old, in strangling some\npeople and threatening others; startling by such behaviour their\nneighbours from their heedlessness, upon whom the terror which they\ncaused, had probably more effect than twenty sermons would have had.\"\n\nNext appeared four catchpoles, an informer, and fifteen damned, hauling\ntwo _devils_ forward.  \"See,\" said the informer, \"lest you should lay the\nblame of all that is mismanaged on the seed of Adam, we bring you two of\nyour old angels, who have spent their time above, quite as badly as the\ntwo preceding.  Here is a fellow who has been making as great a fool of\nhimself, as the Devil did at Shrewsbury the other day; who, in the midst\nof the interlude of Doctor Faustus, whilst some, according to the custom\non such occasions, were committing adultery with their eyes, some with\ntheir hands, others making assignations for the same purpose, and doing\nvarious other things profitable to your kingdom, made his appearance to\nplay his own part; by which blunder, he drove every one from taking his\npleasure to praying.  In like manner did this numskull act; for, whilst\njourneying over the world, on hearing two wenches talking of walking\nround the church at night, in order to see their sweethearts, he must\nneeds show himself in the figure he wears at home, to the two fools, who\non recovering their senses, which at first they lost from fright,\nsolemnly abjured all frivolity for ever.  There's a ninny-hammer for you!\nInstead of appearing like a devil, he ought to have divided himself and\nassumed the forms of two dirty, unlicked boors; for the girls would have\nimagined themselves bound to accept them, and then the filthy goblin\nmight have lived as husband with the two female parties, without\ntroubling a clergyman to perform the marriage.\n\n\"And here is another,\" said he, \"who went the last dark night, to visit\ntwo young maidens in Wales, who were _turning the shift_; and instead of\nenticing the girls to wantonness in the figure of a handsome youth, he\nmust needs go to one with a _hearse_ to sober her; and to the other with\nthe _sound of war_ in an infernal whirlwind, to drive her farther from\nher senses than she was before, and there was no need for that.  But this\nis not the whole, for after going into the last girl, he cast her down\nand tormented her furiously, so that her parents in horror, sent for some\nof our enemies the clergy, to pray over her and cast him out, which they\ndid.  Now, if he had been wise, instead of kicking up such a hubbub, he\nwould have tempted her quietly to despair, and to make away with herself.\nOn another time, wishing to gain some of the conventiclers, he went to\npreach to them, and revealed the secrets of your kingdom; thus, instead\nof hindering, assisting their salvation.\"  At the word _salvation_, I\ncould see some emitting living fire for madness.  \"Capital stories both,\nI won't deny,\" said the goblin; \"but I hope that Lucifer will not permit\none of Adam's race of dirt, to put himself on an equality with me who am\nan angel, of a species and descent far superior.\"  \"Ha!\" said Lucifer,\n\"he may be sure of his punishment.  But, sirrah, answer to these\naccusations speedily and clearly, or by hopeless Destruction I will--\"  \"I\nhave brought hither,\" said the goblin, \"many a soul since Satan was in\nthe garden of Eden, and ought to know my trade better than this novice of\nan informer.\"  \"Blood of an infernal fire-brand!\" said Lucifer, \"did I\nnot command you to answer speedily and clearly.\"  \"Do but hear me,\" said\nthe sprite.  \"As to preaching, by your own command I have been a hundred\ntimes _preaching_, and have forbidden people to follow several of the\nroads which lead to your territories, and yet silently, in the same\nbreath, have led them hither safe enough, by some other vain paths; as I\nhave done by preaching lately in Germany, and in one of the Faroe isles,\nand various other places.\n\n\"Thus through my preaching,\" he continued, \"have come many of the\n_superstitions_ of the papists, and the _old fables_ first to the world,\nand the whole under the shape of some goodness.  For who ever swallows\nthe hook without some bait? who ever would believe a story if there were\nnot some measure of _truth_ mingled with the falsehood; or some semblance\nof _good_ to shade the _evil_?  Thus if I find an opportunity in\npreaching, to push in amongst a hundred correct and salutary counsels,\none of my own, with this one I will do you, either through\n_contentiousness_ or _superstition_, more advantage than all the rest of\nmy counsels will do you harm.\"  \"Well,\" said Lucifer, \"since you are of\nsuch utility in your pulpit, I order you for seven years, to take up your\nabode in the mouth of one of the barn-preachers, who will be sure to\nutter the first thing which comes to his tongue's end.  Then you will\nfind an opportunity to put in a word now and then, to your own purpose.\"\n\nThere were still many more devils and damned who were twisting through\none another like lightning, around the throne of Terrors, to give an\naccount of what they had done, and again to receive commissions.  But\nsuddenly and unexpectedly, an order was given to all the messengers and\nthe prisoners, to go out of the palace, every one to his hole, and to\nleave the king and his chief counsellors there alone.  \"Had we not best\ndepart,\" said I to my companion, \"lest they should find us?\"  \"You need\nnot fear,\" said the angel \"no unclean spirit will ever see through this\nveil.\"  Thus we continued there invisible, to see what was the matter.\nThen Lucifer began to speak graciously to his counsellors, in this\nmanner:--\"O ye, the chief spiritual evils!--ye, who for subtlety are\nunequalled in Unknown, I request you in my need, to exert to the\nuttermost your malicious wiles.  No one here is unaware, that Britain and\nthe surrounding isles, constitute the kingdom most dangerous to my\nauthority, and most abounding with my enemies; and what is a hundred\ntimes worse, there is at present there a queen, who does not offer to\nturn once hitherward, either by the road of Rome on the one hand, or the\nroad of Geneva on the other.  Notwithstanding, all the service which the\nPope has rendered us there for a long time, and Oliver for some years\npast, how far are we from our object? what shall we do now?  I am afraid\nthat we shall lose there our ancient possession, and our market entirely,\nif we do not pave immediately some new way for its inhabitants to walk\nin, for they know all the old roads which lead hither too well.  And,\nsince yonder invincible fist shortens my chain, and prevents me from\ngoing myself to the earth, counsel me, I pray you, as to whom I shall\nmake my deputy, to oppose yonder detestable queen, who is the deputy of\nour enemy.\"  \"O mighty emperor of Darkness!\" said Cerberus, the devil of\nTobacco, \"make a deputy of me, from whom the crown of Britain derives the\nthird part of its revenue.  I will go and will send to you a hundred\nthousand of the souls of your enemies, through the hollow of a pipe.\"\n\"Well, well,\" said Lucifer, \"you have done me excellent service, by\ncausing the proprietors of tobacco in India to be slaughtered, and those\nwho take it to die of diseases, and sending many to vend it idly from\nhouse to house, and making others to steal in order to obtain it, and\nthousands to love it so far, that they cannot be a day without it in\ntheir right senses.\n\n\"Therefore go and do thy best; but, I tell thee, that thou art little\nbetter than nothing in the present exigency.\"  Thereupon Cerberus sat\ndown, and uprose Mammon, devil of Money, and with a morose sinister look\nsaid:--\"I showed men the first mine from which they got money, and\ntherefore, I am always extolled and worshipped more than God; men undergo\nfor me trouble and danger, and place their whole mind, their delight, and\ntheir trust upon me: there is no one easy, because he has not obtained\nsomewhat more of my favour, and the more they obtain the farther are they\never from rest, until at length by seeking _easy circumstances_, they\narrive at the country of Eternal Torments.  How many a crafty old miser\nhave I not deluded hither, along paths more difficult than those which\nlead to the kingdom of Happiness?  At fair or market, sessions or\nelections, or any other assemblage of people, who has more subjects? who\nhas more power and authority than I?  Cursing, swearing, fighting,\nlitigating, plotting, deceiving, striking, hoarding, murdering and\nrobbing, sabbath breaking and uncharitableness, all proceed from me: and\nthere is no other black mark, which stamps men as belonging to the fold\nof Lucifer, which I have not a hand in giving, on which account I am\ncalled 'the root of all evil.'  Therefore if it seem good to your\nmajesty, I will go.\"  And having said that he sat down.\n\nThen arose Apollyon.  \"I do not know,\" said he, \"any thing that will\nbring the Britons hither, more certainly than what brought\nyourselves--that is _Pride_: if she ever plant her pole within them and\ninflate them, there is no reason to fear that they will stoop to lift the\ncross, or go through the narrow gate.  I will go,\" said he, \"with my\ndaughter Pride, and will cause the Welsh, by gazing on the magnificence\nof the English, and the English, by imitating the frivolities of the\nFrench, to tumble into this place before they know where they are.\"\n\nNext arose Asmodeus, devil of Wantonness.  \"You cannot but be aware,\"\nsaid he, \"O most mighty sovereign of the Abyss! and you, ye princes of\nthe country of Despair! how I have crammed the nooks of Hell through\ndebauchery and lasciviousness.  What need have I to speak of the time,\nwhen I kindled such a flame of lust in the whole world, that it was\nnecessary to send the flood, to clear the earth of its inhabitants, and\nto sweep them to us in the unquenchable fire; or of Sodom and Gomorrah,\nfair and pleasant cities, whose people I burnt with wantonness, till\ntheir infernal lusts brought down a fiery shower, which drove them hither\nalive to burn to all eternity; or of the vast army of the Assyrians,\nwhich was slain all in one night on account of me?  Sarah I disappointed\nof seven husbands; Solomon, the wisest of men, and many thousand other\nkings I blinded by means of women.  Therefore,\" said he, \"suffer me to go\nwith my _sweet sin_, and I will kindle in Britain the sparks of Hell so\nuniversally, that it shall become one with this place of unextinguishable\nflame; for there is not much chance, that any one will return from\nfollowing me, to lay hold of the paths of Life.\"  And thereupon he sat\ndown.\n\nThen arose Belphegor, prince of _Sloth and Idleness_.  \"I am,\" said he,\n\"the great prince of Listlessness and Laziness; great is my power on\nmyriads of men of all ages and degrees.  I am the still pool, where 'the\nroot of all evil' is generated; where coagulate the dregs of all\ndestructive corruption and filthiness.  What would you be worth,\nAsmodeus; or you, ye other master spirits of evil, without me who keep\nthe window open for you, without any watch, so that you may go into man\nby his eyes, by his ears, by his mouth, and by every other orifice which\nhe has, whensoever you please.  I will go, and will roll to you all the\ninhabitants of Britain over the precipice in their sleep.\"\n\nThen arose Satan, the devil of _Deceit_, who sat next to Lucifer on his\nleft hand, and after turning a frightful visage on the king,--\"It is\nunnecessary for me,\" he said, \"to declare my deeds to you, O lost\narchangel! or to you, black princes of Destruction! because it was I who\nstruck the first blow which man ever received; and a mighty blow it was,\ncausing him to remain _mortal_, from the beginning of the world to its\nend.  Do you imagine that I, who despoiled the whole world, cannot at\npresent give counsel which will serve for a paltry islet?  And cannot I,\nwho cheated _Eve_ in _Paradise_, vanquish _Anne_ in _Britain_?  If no\nnatural craft will avail, and continued experience for more than five\nthousand years, my counsel to you is, to dress up your daughter\n_Hypocrisy_, to deceive Britain and its queen; you have not a daughter in\nthe world, so useful to you as she; she has more extensive authority and\nmore numerous subjects, than all your other daughters.  Was it not\nthrough _her_ that I cheated the first woman?  It was: and ever from that\ntime she has remained and increased exceedingly upon the earth.  At\npresent indeed, the whole vast world is but one _Hypocrisy_; and if it\nwere not for the skill of Hypocrisy, how should any one of us do business\nin any corner of the world?  Because if people were to see _sin_ in its\nown _color_, and under its own _name_, who would ever come in contact\nwith it?  The world would no more do so, than it would embrace the Devil\nin his infernal shape and garb.  If Hypocrisy were not able to disguise\nher _name_, and the _nature_ of every _evil_, under the similitude of\nsome _good_, and were not able to give some evil nickname to all\n_goodness_, no one would approach, and no one would covet evil at all.\nTraverse the whole city of Destruction, and you will see her in every\ncorner.  Go to the street of _Pride_, and enquire for an _arrogant man_,\nor for a pennyworth of _coquetry_, mixed up by Pride; 'woe's me,' says\nHypocrisy, 'there is no such thing here; nothing at all I assure you in\nthe whole street but grandeur.'  Or go to the street of _Lucre_, and\nenquire for the house of the _Miser_; fie, there is no such person in it:\nor for the house of the _murderer_ amongst the physicians: or the house\nof the _arrant thief_ amongst the drovers, and see how you would fare;\nyou would sooner get into prison for enquiring, than get any body to\nconfess his name.  Yes, Hypocrisy creeps between man and his own heart,\nand conceals every _iniquity_ so craftily, under the name and similitude\nof some virtue, that she has made every body almost unable to recognise\nhimself.  _Avarice_ she will call _economy_.  In her language\n_dissipation_ is _innocent diversion_; _pride_ is _gentility_; a\n_perverse_ _man _is a _fine manly fellow_; _drunkenness_ is _good\nfellowship_, and _adultery_ is only the _heat of youth_.  On the other\nhand, if _she_ and her disciples are to be believed, the _devout man_ is\nonly a _hypocrite_ or a _blockhead_; the _gentle_ but a _sneaking dog_;\nthe _sober_ a mere _hunks_, and so on.  Send her, therefore,\" he\ncontinued, \"thither, in her full array, I will warrant that she will\ndeceive every body, and that she will blind the counsellors and the\nwarriors, and all the officers, secular and ecclesiastical, and will draw\nthem hither in multitudes presently, by means of her _mask of changeable\nhue_.\"  And thereupon he sat down.\n\nThen Beelzebub arose, the devil of _Inconsiderateness_, and with a rough,\nbellowing voice,--\"I am,\" said he, \"the mighty prince of _Bewilderment_;\nto me it pertains to prevent man from reflecting upon and considering his\ncondition.  I am the principal of those wicked, infernal _flies_ which\ncraze mankind, by keeping them ever in a kind of continual buzz, about\ntheir possessions or their pleasures, without ever leaving them with my\nconsent, a moment's respite, to think about their courses or their end.\nIt ill becomes one of you, to attempt to put himself on an equality with\nme, for feats useful to the kingdom of Darkness.  For what is Tobacco but\none of my meanest instruments, to carry bewilderment into the brain?  And\nwhat is the kingdom of _Mammon_, but a branch of my vast domain?  Yea, if\nI were to recite the ties which I have on the subjects of _Mammon_ and\n_Pride_--yea, and on the subjects of _Asmodeus_, _Belphegor_, and\n_Hypocrisy_--no man would tarry a minute longer under the rule of one of\nthem.  Therefore,\" said he, \"I am the one to do the work, and let none of\nyou boast again about his merits.\"  Then Lucifer the Great arose himself\nfrom his burning throne, and with a would-be complaisant but nevertheless\nfrightful look on both sides,--\"Ye master-spirits of eternal Night! ye\nsupreme possessors of the cunning of Despair!\" he said, \"though the vast\nblack gulf and the wilds of Destruction, are indebted to no one for\ninhabitants, more than to my own royal majesty since I of yore, failing\nto drag the Omnipotent from his possession, drew millions of you, my\nswarthy angels to this place of horrors, and have since drawn millions of\nmen to you; nevertheless, it cannot be denied, that ye too have all done\nyour part, to sustain this vast infernal empire.\"\n\nThen Lucifer began to answer them one by one.  \"For one of late origin, I\nwill not deny, O _Cerberus_, that thou hast brought to us many a booty\nfrom the island of our enemies, by means of tobacco, a weed the cause of\nmuch deceit; for how much deceit is practiced in carrying it about, in\nmixing it, and in weighing it: a weed which entices some people to bib\nale; others to curse, swear, and to flatter in order to obtain it, and\nothers to tell lies in denying that they use it: a weed productive of\nmaladies in various bodies, the excess of which is injurious to every\nman's body, without speaking of his _soul_: a weed, moreover, by which we\nget multitudes of the poor, whom we should never get, did they not set\ntheir love on tobacco, and allow it to master them, and pull the bread\nfrom the mouths of their children.\n\n\"And as for you, my brother _Mammon_, your power is so universal, and\nlikewise so manifest upon the earth, that it has become a proverb that\n'_any thing can be got for money_.'  And undoubtedly,\" said he, turning\nto Apollyon, \"my beloved daughter _Pride_ is of great utility to us; for\nwhat is more capable of injuring a man in his condition, his body, and\nhis soul, than that _proud_, _haughty idea_, which will make him squander\na _hundred pounds_ for display, rather than stoop to give a _crown_ for\npeace.  _She_ keeps people so stiff-necked, with their sight so intent on\nlofty things, that it is a pleasure to see them, by staring and reaching\ninto the air, falling plump into the abysses of Hell.  As for you,\n_Asmodeus_, we all remember your great services of yore; no one keeps his\nprisoners more firmly under the lock, and no one meets with less rebuke\nthan yourself--the whole rebuke, indeed, consisting in a little laughing,\nat what is called wanton tricks.  Yes, Asmodeus, I admit that your power\nis very great; though I cannot help reminding you,\" he added, with a\njocular though truly infernal grin, \"that you were all but starved, above\nthere, during the last dear years.  As for you, my son _Belphegor_, lousy\nprince of Sloth, nobody has afforded us more pleasure than yourself, so\nvery great is your authority amongst gentle and simple, even down to the\nbeggar.  Nevertheless, if it were not for the skill of my daughter\n_Hypocrisy_, in coloring and disguising, who would ever swallow one of\nyour hooks?  And after all, if it were not for the diligent firmness of\nmy brother _Beelzebub_, in keeping men in _inconsiderate bewilderment_, I\nquestion whether all of you united would be worth a straw.  Now,\" said\nhe, \"let us review the whole.\n\n\"What would you be worth, Cerberus, with your excessive sucking, if it\nwere not for the assistance of Mammon?  What merchant would ever fetch\nyour leaves from India, through so many perils, if it were not for the\nsake of Mammon?  And if it were not for _his_ sake, what king would\nreceive it, in Britain especially?  And who, but for the sake of Mammon,\nwould carry it to every corner of the kingdom?  But, notwithstanding\nthis, what wouldst thou be worth, Mammon, without Pride to squander thee\nupon fine houses, magnificent garments, needless litigations, music,\nhorses and costly appurtenances, various dishes, beer and ale in a flood,\nfar above the _means_ and _rank_ of the possessor; for if money were used\nwithin the limits of _necessity_ and _propriety_, of what advantage would\nMammon be to us?  Thus you would be worth nothing without _Pride_; and\nlittle would _Pride_ be worth without _Wantonness_, because bastards are\nthe most numerous and the fiercest subjects, which my daughter _Pride_\npossesses in the world.\n\n\"You too, Asmodeus, prince of _Wantonness_, what would you be worth, if\nit were not for _Sloth and Idleness_; where but for them would you get a\nnight's lodging?  You could hardly expect it from a labourer or toiling\nstudent.  And you, Belphegor of Idleness, who would welcome you a minute,\nattended as you would be with shame and reproach, if it were not for\nHypocrisy, who conceals your ugliness under the name of _internal\nsickness_, or of a _well meaning person_, or under the shape of\n_despising riches_ and the like.\n\n\"And she too, my dear daughter _Hypocrisy_, what is she worth, or what\nwould she ever be worth, skilful and resolute sempstress as she is, if it\nwere not for your help, my eldest brother _Beelzebub_, mighty prince of\n_Inconsiderateness_.  If he would leave people leisure and respite, to\nseriously consider the nature of things and their difference, how often\nwould they spy holes in the folds of the gold-cloth robe of _Hypocrisy_,\nand perceive the hooks through the bait?  What man, did not\nInconsiderateness deprive him of his senses, would chase baubles and\npleasures--evanescent, surfeiting, foolish and disgraceful--and prefer\nthem to _peace of conscience_, and glorious _everlasting happiness_?  And\nwho would hesitate to suffer martyrdom for his faith, for an hour or a\nday, or to endure affliction for forty or sixty years, if he would\nreflect that his neighbours here are suffering in an hour, more than he\ncan ever suffer upon the earth?\n\n\"_Tobacco_ then is nothing without _money_, nor money without _Pride_;\nand Pride is but feeble without Wantonness, and Wantonness is nothing\nwithout _Idleness_; Idleness without _Hypocrisy_, and Hypocrisy without\n_Inconsiderateness_.  But,\" said Lucifer, (and he raised his fiendish\nhoofs on the fore claws,) \"to speak my own opinion, however excellent all\nthese may be, I have a _friend_ to send against the she-enemy of Britain,\nbetter than the whole.\"\n\nThen I could see all the chief devils, with their ghastly mouths opened\ntowards Lucifer, in anxious expectation of learning what this friend\nmight be, whilst I was as impatient to hear as they.  \"The one I allude\nto,\" said Lucifer, \"is called _Ease_; she is one whose merits I have too\nlong disregarded, and whose merit, Satan, you yourself disregarded of\nyore, when in tempting Job you turned the unpleasant side of life towards\nhim.  She is my darling, and her I now constitute deputy, immediately\nnext to myself, in all matters relating to my earthly government; Ease is\nher name, and _she_ has damned more men than all ye together, and very\nfew would ye catch without _her_.  For in _war_, _or danger_, _or\nhunger_, _or sickness_, who would value _tobacco_, _or money_, or the\npomposity of Pride, or would entertain a thought of welcoming either\n_Wantonness or Sloth_?  Or who in such straits, would permit themselves\nto be distracted either by _Hypocrisy or Inconsiderateness_?  No, no!\nthey are too awake then, and not one of the infernal _flies of\nBewilderment_, which shows its beak, will buzz, during one of these\nstorms.  But _Ease_, smooth Ease, is the nurse of you all: in her calm\nshadow, and in her teeming bosom ye are all bred, and also every other\ninfernal worm of the conscience, which will come to gnaw its possessor\n_here_ for ever, without intermission.\n\n\"As long as _Ease_ lasts, there is no talk but of some species of\ndiversion, of banquets, bargains, pedigrees, stories, news, and the like.\nThere is no mention of _God_, except in idle swearing and cursing;\nwhereas the _poor_ and the _sick_, who know nothing of ease, have God in\ntheir mouths and their hearts every minute.\n\n\"But go ye also in the rear of her, and keep every body in his sleep and\nhis rest, in prosperity and comfort, abundance and carelessness; and then\nyou will see the poor honest man, as soon as he shall drink of the\nalluring cup of Ease, become a perverse, proud, untractable churl--the\nindustrious labourer change into a careless, waggish rattler--and every\nother person become just what you would desire him.  Because pleasant\n_Ease_ is what every one seeks and loves; she hears not counsel, fears\nnot punishment--if good, she will not recognise it--if bad, she will\nfoster it of her own accord.  _She_ is the prime-temptation; the man who\nis proof against _her_ tender charms, ye may fling your caps to--for we\nmust bid farewell for ever to his company.  _Ease_, then, is my\nterrestrial _deputy_, follow her to Britain, and be as obedient to her as\nto our own royal majesty.\"\n\nAt this moment the huge bolt was shaken, and Lucifer and his chief\ncounsellors were struck to the vortex of _extremest Hell_; and oh, how\nhorrible it was to see the throat of Unknown opening to receive them!\n\"Well,\" said the angel \"we will now return; but you have not yet seen any\nthing in comparison with the _whole_, which is within the bounds of\n_Destruction_, and if you had seen the whole, it is nothing to the\ninexpressible misery which exists in _Unknown_, for it is not possible to\nform an idea of the World in extremest Hell.\"  And at that word the\ncelestial messenger snatched me up to the firmament of the accursed\nkingdom of Darkness, by a way I had not seen, whence I obtained, from the\npalace along all the firmament of the black and hot _Destruction_, and\nthe whole _land of Forgetfulness_, even to the walls of the _city of\nDestruction_, a full view of the accursed monster of a _giantess_, whose\nfeet I had seen before--I do not possess words to describe her figure.\nBut I can tell you that she was a _triple-faced giantess_, having one\nvery atrocious countenance turned towards the heavens, barking, snorting\nand vomiting accursed abomination against the celestial king; another\ncountenance very fair towards the _earth_, to entice men to tarry in her\nshadow; and another, the most frightful countenance of all, turned\ntowards _Hell_, to torment it to all eternity.  She is larger than the\nentire earth, and is yet daily increasing, and a hundred times more\nfrightful than the whole of Hell.  She caused Hell to be made, and it is\nshe who fills it with inhabitants.  If _she_ were removed from Hell, Hell\nwould become Paradise; and if she were removed from the earth, the little\nworld would become Heaven; and if she were to go to Heaven, she would\nchange the regions of bliss into utter Hell.  There is nothing in all the\nuniverse, (except herself,) that God did not create.  She is the mother\nof the four female deceivers of the city of Destruction; she is the\nmother of _Death_; she is the mother of every _evil_ and _misery_; and\nshe has a fearful hold on every living man--her name is SIN.  \"_He who\nescapes from her hook_, _for ever blessed is he_!\" said the angel.\nThereupon he departed, and I could hear his voice saying, \"_write down\nwhat thou hast seen_, _and he who shall read it carefully shall never\nhave reason to repent_.\"\n\n\n\nThe Heavy Heart.\n\n\nHeavy's the heart with wandering below,\nAnd with seeing the things in the country of woe;\nSeeing lost men and the fiendish race,\nIn their very horrible prison place;\nSeeing that the end of the crooked track\n   Is a flaming lake,\n   Where dragon and snake\n   With rage are swelling.\nI'd not, o'er a thousand worlds to reign,\n   Behold again,\n   Though safe from pain,\n   The infernal dwelling.\n\nHeavy's my heart, whilst so vividly\nThe place is yet in my memory;\nTo see so many, to me well known,\nThither unwittingly sinking down.\nTo-day a hell-dog is yesterday's man,\n   And he has no plan,\n   But others to trepan\n   To Hell's dismal revels.\nWhen he reach'd the pit he a fiend became,\n   In face and in frame,\n   And in mind the same\n   As the very devils.\n\nHeavy's the heart with viewing the bed,\nWhere sin has the meed it has merited;\nWhat frightful taunts from forked tongue,\nOn gentle and simple there are flung.\nThe ghastliness of the damned things to state.\n   Or the pains to relate\n   Which will ne'er abate\n   But increase for ever,\nNo power have I, nor others I wot:\n   Words cannot be got;\n   The shapes and the spot\n   Can be pictured never.\n\nHeavy's the heart, as none will deny,\nAt losing one's friend or the maid of one's eye;\nAt losing one's freedom, one's land or wealth;\nAt losing one's fame, or alas! one's health;\nAt losing leisure; at losing ease;\n   At losing peace\n   And all things that please\n   The heaven under.\nAt losing memory, beauty and grace,\n   Heart-heaviness\n   For a little space\n   Can cause no wonder.\n\nHeavy's the heart of man when first\nHe awakes from his worldly dream accursed,\nFain would be freed from his awful load\nOf sin, and be reconciled with his God;\nWhen he feels for pleasures and luxuries\n   Disgust arise,\n   From the agonies\n   Of the ferment unruly,\nThrough which he becomes regenerate,\n   Of Christ the mate,\n   From his sinful state\n   Springing blithe and holy.\n\nHeavy's the heart of the best of mankind,\nUpon the bed of death reclined;\nIn mind and body ill at ease,\nBetwixt remorse and the disease,\nVext by sharp pangs and dreading more.\n   O mortal poor!\n   O dreadful hour!\n   Horrors surround him!\nTo the end of the vain world he has won;\n   And dark and dun\n   The eternal one\n   Beholds beyond him.\n\nHeavy's the heart, the pressure below,\nOf all the griefs I have mentioned now;\nBut were they together all met in a mass,\nThere's one grief still would all surpass;\nHope frees from each woe, while we this side\n   Of the wall abide--\n   At every tide\n   'Tis an outlet cranny.\nBut there's a grief beyond the bier;\n   Hope will ne'er\n   Its victims cheer,\n   That cheers so many.\n\nHeavy's the heart therewith that's fraught;\nHow heavy is mine at merely the thought!\nOur worldly woes, however hard,\nAre trifles when with that compared:\nThat woe--which is known not here--that woe\n   The lost ones know,\n   And undergo\n   In the nether regions;\nHow wretched the man who exil'd to Hell,\n   In Hell must dwell,\n   And curse and yell\n   With the Hellish legions!\n\nAt nought, that may ever betide thee, fret\nIf at Hell thou art not arrived yet;\nBut thither, I rede thee, in mind repair\nFull oft, and observantly wander there;\nMusing intense, after reading me,\n   Of the flaming sea,\n   Will speedily thee\n   Convert by appalling.\nFrequent remembrance of the black deep\n   Thy soul will keep,\n   Thou erring sheep,\n   From thither falling.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{3}  Probably Cheshire; the North Welsh commonly call Chester Caer.\n\n{23}  It is the custom of Mahometans, to lay aside their sandals, before\nentering the Mosque.\n\n{49}  Taliesin lived in the sixth century; he was a foundling, discovered\nin his infancy lying in a coracle, on a salmon-weir, in the domain of\nElphin, a prince of North Wales, who became his patron.  During his life\nhe arrogated to himself a supernatural descent and understanding, and for\nat least a thousand years after his death he was regarded by the\ndescendants of the Ancient Britons, as a prophet or something more.  The\npoems which he produced procured for him the title of \"Bardic King;\" they\ndisplay much that is vigorous and original, but are disfigured by\nmysticism and extravagant metaphor.  The four lines which he is made to\nquote above are from his Hanes, or History, one of the most spirited of\nhis pieces.  When Elis Wynn represents him as sitting by a cauldron in\nHades, he alludes to a wild legend concerning him, to the effect, that he\nimbibed awen or poetical genius whilst employed in watching \"the seething\npot\" of the sorceress Cridwen, which legend has much in common with one\nof the Irish legends about Fin Macoul, which is itself nearly identical\nwith one in the Edda, describing the manner in which Sigurd Fafnisbane\nbecame possessed of supernatural wisdom.\n\n{50}  A dreadful pestilence, which ravaged Gwynedd or North Wales in 560.\nAmongst its victims was the king of the country, the celebrated Maelgwn,\nson of Caswallon Law Hir.\n\n{84}  Llyn Tegid, or the lake of Beauty, in the neighbourhood of Bala.\n\n{93}  The reader is left to guess what description of people these\nprisoners were.  They were probably violent fifth monarchy preachers.\n\n{100}  An active London Magistrate, treacherously murdered by a gang of\npapist conspirators in the reign of Charles the Second.\n\n{108} A celebrated Welsh poet, who flourished in the thirteenth century.\nA short account of him will be found in Owen's Cambrian Biography.","title":"The Sleeping Bard; Or, Visions of the World, Death, and Hell","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":38870}