A Vision of Hell. (continued 2)

“What would you be worth, Cerberus, with your excessive sucking, if it were not for the assistance of Mammon? What merchant would ever fetch your leaves from India, through so many perils, if it were not for the sake of Mammon? And if it were not for his sake, what king would receive it, in Britain especially? And who, but for the sake of Mammon, would carry it to every corner of the kingdom? But, notwithstanding this, what wouldst thou be worth, Mammon, without Pride to squander thee upon fine houses, magnificent garments, needless litigations, music, horses and costly appurtenances, various dishes, beer and ale in a flood, far above the means and rank of the possessor; for if money were used within the limits of necessity and propriety, of what advantage would Mammon be to us? Thus you would be worth nothing without Pride; and little would Pride be worth without Wantonness, because bastards are the most numerous and the fiercest subjects, which my daughter Pride possesses in the world.

“You too, Asmodeus, prince of Wantonness, what would you be worth, if it were not for Sloth and Idleness; where but for them would you get a night’s lodging? You could hardly expect it from a labourer or toiling student. And you, Belphegor of Idleness, who would welcome you a minute, attended as you would be with shame and reproach, if it were not for Hypocrisy, who conceals your ugliness under the name of internal sickness, or of a well meaning person, or under the shape of despising riches and the like.

“And she too, my dear daughter Hypocrisy, what is she worth, or what would she ever be worth, skilful and resolute sempstress as she is, if it were not for your help, my eldest brother Beelzebub, mighty prince of Inconsiderateness. If he would leave people leisure and respite, to seriously consider the nature of things and their difference, how often would they spy holes in the folds of the gold-cloth robe of Hypocrisy, and perceive the hooks through the bait? What man, did not Inconsiderateness deprive him of his senses, would chase baubles and pleasures—evanescent, surfeiting, foolish and disgraceful—and prefer them to peace of conscience, and glorious everlasting happiness? And who would hesitate to suffer martyrdom for his faith, for an hour or a day, or to endure affliction for forty or sixty years, if he would reflect that his neighbours here are suffering in an hour, more than he can ever suffer upon the earth?

“Tobacco then is nothing without money, nor money without Pride; and Pride is but feeble without Wantonness, and Wantonness is nothing without Idleness; Idleness without Hypocrisy, and Hypocrisy without Inconsiderateness. But,” said Lucifer, (and he raised his fiendish hoofs on the fore claws,) “to speak my own opinion, however excellent all these may be, I have a friend to send against the she-enemy of Britain, better than the whole.”

Then I could see all the chief devils, with their ghastly mouths opened towards Lucifer, in anxious expectation of learning what this friend might be, whilst I was as impatient to hear as they. “The one I allude to,” said Lucifer, “is called Ease; she is one whose merits I have too long disregarded, and whose merit, Satan, you yourself disregarded of yore, when in tempting Job you turned the unpleasant side of life towards him. She is my darling, and her I now constitute deputy, immediately next to myself, in all matters relating to my earthly government; Ease is her name, and she has damned more men than all ye together, and very few would ye catch without her. For in war, or danger, or hunger, or sickness, who would value tobacco, or money, or the pomposity of Pride, or would entertain a thought of welcoming either Wantonness or Sloth? Or who in such straits, would permit themselves to be distracted either by Hypocrisy or Inconsiderateness? No, no! they are too awake then, and not one of the infernal flies of Bewilderment, which shows its beak, will buzz, during one of these storms. But Ease, smooth Ease, is the nurse of you all: in her calm shadow, and in her teeming bosom ye are all bred, and also every other infernal worm of the conscience, which will come to gnaw its possessor here for ever, without intermission.

“As long as Ease lasts, there is no talk but of some species of diversion, of banquets, bargains, pedigrees, stories, news, and the like. There is no mention of God, except in idle swearing and cursing; whereas the poor and the sick, who know nothing of ease, have God in their mouths and their hearts every minute.

“But go ye also in the rear of her, and keep every body in his sleep and his rest, in prosperity and comfort, abundance and carelessness; and then you will see the poor honest man, as soon as he shall drink of the alluring cup of Ease, become a perverse, proud, untractable churl—the industrious labourer change into a careless, waggish rattler—and every other person become just what you would desire him. Because pleasant Ease is what every one seeks and loves; she hears not counsel, fears not punishment—if good, she will not recognise it—if bad, she will foster it of her own accord. She is the prime-temptation; the man who is proof against her tender charms, ye may fling your caps to—for we must bid farewell for ever to his company. Ease, then, is my terrestrial deputy, follow her to Britain, and be as obedient to her as to our own royal majesty.”

At this moment the huge bolt was shaken, and Lucifer and his chief counsellors were struck to the vortex of extremest Hell; and oh, how horrible it was to see the throat of Unknown opening to receive them! “Well,” said the angel “we will now return; but you have not yet seen any thing in comparison with the whole, which is within the bounds of Destruction, and if you had seen the whole, it is nothing to the inexpressible misery which exists in Unknown, for it is not possible to form an idea of the World in extremest Hell.” And at that word the celestial messenger snatched me up to the firmament of the accursed kingdom of Darkness, by a way I had not seen, whence I obtained, from the palace along all the firmament of the black and hot Destruction, and the whole land of Forgetfulness, even to the walls of the city of Destruction, a full view of the accursed monster of a giantess, whose feet I had seen before—I do not possess words to describe her figure. But I can tell you that she was a triple-faced giantess, having one very atrocious countenance turned towards the heavens, barking, snorting and vomiting accursed abomination against the celestial king; another countenance very fair towards the earth, to entice men to tarry in her shadow; and another, the most frightful countenance of all, turned towards Hell, to torment it to all eternity. She is larger than the entire earth, and is yet daily increasing, and a hundred times more frightful than the whole of Hell. She caused Hell to be made, and it is she who fills it with inhabitants. If she were removed from Hell, Hell would become Paradise; and if she were removed from the earth, the little world would become Heaven; and if she were to go to Heaven, she would change the regions of bliss into utter Hell. There is nothing in all the universe, (except herself,) that God did not create. She is the mother of the four female deceivers of the city of Destruction; she is the mother of Death; she is the mother of every evil and misery; and she has a fearful hold on every living man—her name is SIN. “He who escapes from her hook, for ever blessed is he!” said the angel. Thereupon he departed, and I could hear his voice saying, “write down what thou hast seen, and he who shall read it carefully shall never have reason to repent.”

The Heavy Heart.

Heavy’s the heart with wandering below, And with seeing the things in the country of woe; Seeing lost men and the fiendish race, In their very horrible prison place; Seeing that the end of the crooked track Is a flaming lake, Where dragon and snake With rage are swelling. I’d not, o’er a thousand worlds to reign, Behold again, Though safe from pain, The infernal dwelling.

Heavy’s my heart, whilst so vividly The place is yet in my memory; To see so many, to me well known, Thither unwittingly sinking down. To-day a hell-dog is yesterday’s man, And he has no plan, But others to trepan To Hell’s dismal revels. When he reach’d the pit he a fiend became, In face and in frame, And in mind the same As the very devils.

Heavy’s the heart with viewing the bed, Where sin has the meed it has merited; What frightful taunts from forked tongue, On gentle and simple there are flung. The ghastliness of the damned things to state. Or the pains to relate Which will ne’er abate But increase for ever, No power have I, nor others I wot: Words cannot be got; The shapes and the spot Can be pictured never.

Heavy’s the heart, as none will deny, At losing one’s friend or the maid of one’s eye; At losing one’s freedom, one’s land or wealth; At losing one’s fame, or alas! one’s health; At losing leisure; at losing ease; At losing peace And all things that please The heaven under. At losing memory, beauty and grace, Heart-heaviness For a little space Can cause no wonder.

Heavy’s the heart of man when first He awakes from his worldly dream accursed, Fain would be freed from his awful load Of sin, and be reconciled with his God; When he feels for pleasures and luxuries Disgust arise, From the agonies Of the ferment unruly, Through which he becomes regenerate, Of Christ the mate, From his sinful state Springing blithe and holy.

Heavy’s the heart of the best of mankind, Upon the bed of death reclined; In mind and body ill at ease, Betwixt remorse and the disease, Vext by sharp pangs and dreading more. O mortal poor! O dreadful hour! Horrors surround him! To the end of the vain world he has won; And dark and dun The eternal one Beholds beyond him.

Heavy’s the heart, the pressure below, Of all the griefs I have mentioned now; But were they together all met in a mass, There’s one grief still would all surpass; Hope frees from each woe, while we this side Of the wall abide— At every tide ’Tis an outlet cranny. But there’s a grief beyond the bier; Hope will ne’er Its victims cheer, That cheers so many.

Heavy’s the heart therewith that’s fraught; How heavy is mine at merely the thought! Our worldly woes, however hard, Are trifles when with that compared: That woe—which is known not here—that woe The lost ones know, And undergo In the nether regions; How wretched the man who exil’d to Hell, In Hell must dwell, And curse and yell With the Hellish legions!

At nought, that may ever betide thee, fret If at Hell thou art not arrived yet; But thither, I rede thee, in mind repair Full oft, and observantly wander there; Musing intense, after reading me, Of the flaming sea, Will speedily thee Convert by appalling. Frequent remembrance of the black deep Thy soul will keep, Thou erring sheep, From thither falling.