Chapter 10

Then Beelzebub, the devil of thoughtlessness stood up, and in a harsh voice said: “I am the great prince of heedlessness whose duty it is to prevent a man taking reflective heed of his state; I am chief of the incessant hell-flies who utterly amaze men, ever dinning in their ears concerning their possessions or their pleasures, and never willingly allowing them a moment’s leisure to think of their ways or of their end. No one of you must dare enter the lists against me in feats serviceable to the realm of darkness. For what is tobacco, but one of my meanest weapons to stupefy the brain? What is Mammon’s kingdom but a part of my great dominion? Yea, were I to loosen the bonds I have upon the subjects of Mammon and Pride, and even of Asmodai, Belphegor and Hypocrisy, no man would for an instant abide their domination. Wherefore I will do the work and let no one of you ever utter a word.”

Then great Lucifer himself arose from his burning seat, and having turned his hideous face to both sides, thus began: “Ye chief spirits of the Eternal Night, princes of hopeless guile, although the vasty gloom and the wilds of Destruction are more bounden to none for their inhabitants than to mine own supreme majesty—for it was I who erewhile wishing to usurp the Almighty’s throne, drew myriads of you, my swarthy angels, at my tail into these deadly horrors, and afterwards drew unto you myriads of men to share this region—yet there is no gainsay that ye all have done your share in maintaining and extending this great infernal empire.” Then he began to answer them one by one: “Considering thy recent origin, Cerberus, I will not deny but that thou hast gained for us much prey in the island of our foes through tobacco. For they that carry, mix, and weigh it, practise all manner of fraud; and by its indulgence some are led on to habitual drinking, some to curse and swear, and some to seek it through blandishment, and to lie in denying their use of it—not to speak of the injury it inflicts upon many, and its immoderate use upon all, body as well as soul. And better than that, myriads of the poor, whom else we never should touch, sink hither through laying the burden of their affection upon tobacco, and allowing it to be their master, to steal the bread from their children’s mouth. Then, brother Mammon, your power is so universal and so well-known on earth that it is a proverb, ‘Everything may be had for money.’ And without doubt,” said he, turning to Apolyon, “my beloved daughter Pride is most serviceable to us, for what can there be more pernicious to a man’s estate, to his body and soul, than that proud, obdurate opinion which will make him squander a hundred pounds rather than yield a crown to secure peace. She keeps them all so stiff-necked and so intent on things on high that it is amusing to see them, while gazing upwards, and ‘extolling their heads to the stars’ fall straightway into the depths of hell. You too, Asmodai, we all remember your great services in the past; there is none more resolute than you to keep safe his prisoners under lock and key, nor any so unimpeachable. Nowadays a wanton freak provokes only a little laughter, but you came near perishing there from famine during the recent years of dearth. And you, my son Belphegor, verminous prince of sloth, no one has afforded us more pleasure than you; your influence is exceeding great among noblemen and also among the common people, even to the beggar. And were it not for the skill of my daughter Hypocrisy in coloring and adorning, who ever would swallow a single one of our hooks? But after all, if it were not for the unwearying courage of my brother Beelzebub in keeping men in heedless dazedness, ye all would not be worth a straw. Let us once more recapitulate. What good wouldst thou be, Cerberus, with thy foreign whiff, if Mammon did not succour thee? What merchant would ever run such risks to obtain thy paltry leaves from India, except for Mammon’s sake? And only for him what king would receive them, especially into Britain, and who but for his sake would carry them to every part of the kingdom? Yet how worthless thou too wouldst be, Mammon, if Pride did not lavish thee upon fair mansions, fine clothes, needless lawsuits, gardens and horses, extravagant relatives, numerous dishes, floods of beer and ale, beyond the power and station of their owner; for if money were spent within the limit of necessity and of becoming moderation, what would Mammon avail us? Thus thou art nought without Pride; and little would Pride profit without Wantonness, for bastards are the most numerous and the most fierce of all the subjects of my daughter Pride. And thou, Asmodai, what wouldst thou profit us were it not for Sloth and Idleness? Where wouldst thou obtain a night’s lodging? Thou wouldst not dare expect it from a laborer or diligent student. And who, for the dishonor and the shame, would ever give thee, Belphegor the Slothful, a moment’s welcome, if Hypocrisy did not disguise thy foulness under the name of an internal disease, or as a good intent or a seeming despisal of wealth or the like. She too—my dear daughter Hypocrisy—what good is or ever would she be, notwithstanding her skill as a seamstress, and her boldness, without thy aid, my eldest brother, Beelzebub, great chief of Distraction: if he gave people peace and leisure to reflect seriously upon the nature of things and their differences, how long would it take them to find holes in the folds of Hypocrisy’s golden garments, and to see the hooks through the bait? What man in his senses would gather together toys and fleeting pleasures, surfeiting, vain and disgraceful, and choose them in preference to a calm conscience and the bliss of a glorious eternity? Who would refuse to suffer the pangs of martyrdom for his faith for an hour or a day, or affliction for forty or sixty years, if he considered that his neighbours suffer here in an hour more than he could suffer on earth for ever. Tobacco is nothing without Money, or Money without Pride, and Pride is but a weakling without Wantonness, nor is Wantonness aught without Sloth, nor Sloth without Hypocrisy, nor Hypocrisy without Thoughtlessness. Wherefore, now,” said Lucifer, lifting his infernal hoofs on their claw-ends, “to give my own opinion: however excellent all these may be, I have a friend better suited than all to our foe of Britain.” Then could I see all the archfiends open wide their horrid mouths upon Lucifer in eager expectation as to what this could possibly be, while I too was as anxious as they. “A friend,” continued Lucifer, “whose true worth I have too long neglected, just as thou, Satan, tempting Job of yore, didst foolishly turn upon him with severity. This, my kinswoman, I now appoint regent in all matters appertaining to my kingdom on earth, next to myself. Her name is Prosperity: she has damned more than all of you together, and little would ye avail without her presence. For who in war or peril, in famine or in plague, would lay any value by tobacco, or by money or by the sprightliness of pride, or who would deign welcome licentiousness or sloth? And men in such straits are too wide-awake to be distraught by Hypocrisy, or even by Thoughtlessness; none of the infernal vermin of Distraction dare show himself in one such storm. Whereas Prosperity, with its ease and comfort, is the nurse of all of you; beneath her peaceful shadow and upon her tranquil bosom ye all are nourished, and every other hellish worm that has its place in the conscience and will be for ever here gnawing its possessor. As long as one is at ease, there is no talk but of merriment, of feasts, bargains, genealogies, tales, news and the like; the name of God is never mentioned except in profane oaths and curses, whereas the poor and the afflicted have His name upon their lips and in their hearts always. Go ye, the seven of you, and follow her and be mindful to keep all a-slumbering and in peace, in good fortune, in ease and in perfect carelessness; then shall ye see the honest poor become an untractable, arrogant knave, once he has quaffed of the alluring cup of Prosperity; ye shall behold the diligent laborer become a careless babbler and everything else that pleases you. For all seek and love happy Prosperity; she neither hearkens to advice nor fears censure; the good she knows not, the bad she nurtures. But this is the greatest mishap: the man that escapes her sweet charms must be given up in despair, we must bid farewell to his company for ever. Prosperity then is my earthly vicegerent; follow her to Britain, and obey her as ye would our own royal majesty.”

At that instant the huge bolt was whirled, and Lucifer and his chief counsellors were swept away into the vortex of Uttermost Perdition; woe’s me, how terrible it was to behold the jaws of Hell yawning wide to receive them! “Come now,” said the Angel, “we will return, but what thou hast seen is as nothing compared with all that is within the bounds of Hell; and if thou didst see everything therein that again would be as nought when compared with the unutterable woe of the Bottomless Pit; for it is impossible to have any conception of the life in the Uttermost Hell.” Then suddenly the heavenly Eagle caught me up into the vault of the accursed gloom by a way I knew not, where, from the court, across the entire firmament of dark-burning Perdition, and all the land of oblivion up to the ramparts of the City of Destruction, I obtained full view of the hideous monster of a giantess whose feet I had previously observed. “Words fail me to describe her ways and means; but of herself I can tell thee, that she was a three-faced ogress: one villainous face turned towards Heaven, yelping and snarling and belching forth cursèd abomination against the heavenly King; another face (and this was fair to look upon) towards earth, to allure men beneath her baneful shadow; and the other direful face towards the infernal abyss, to torture all therein for ages without end. She is greater than the earth in its entirety, and still continuously increases; she is a hundredfold more hideous than all Hell which she herself created and which she peoples. If Hell were rid of her, the vasty deep would be a Paradise; if she were driven from the earth, the little world would become a heaven; and if she ascended into Heaven, she would make an uttermost hell of that blissful realm. There is nought in all the worlds which God has not created, save her alone. She is the mother of the four deadly enchantresses; she is the mother of Death and of all evil and misery, and her terrible grasp is upon every living being. Her name is Sin. Blessed, ever blessed be he who escapes from her clutches,” said the Angel. Thereupon he departed, and I could hear the distant echo of his voice saying; “Write down what thou hast seen; and whosoever readeth it thoughtfully will never repent.”

WITH HEAVY HEART.

With heavy heart I sought th’ infernal coast And saw the vale of everlasting woes, The awful home of fiends and of the lost Where torments rage and never grant repose— A lake of fire whence horrid flames arose And whither tended every wayward path Its prey to lead ’midst cruel dragon-foes; Yet, though I wandered through withouten scath, A world I’d spurn, to view again that scene of wrath.

With heavy heart oft I recall to mind How many a loving friend unwarnèd fell To bottomless perdition, there to find A dread abode where he for aye must dwell; Who erst were men are now like hounds of Hell And with unceasing energy entice To dire combustion all with wily spell, And to themselves have ta’en the devils’ guise, Their power and skill all ill to do in every wise.

With heavy heart I roamed the dismal land That is ordained the sinner’s end to be; What mighty waves surge wild on every hand! What gloomy shadows haunt its canopy! What horrors fall on high and mean degree! How hideous is the mien of its fell lords, What shrieks rise from that boundless glowing sea, How fierce the curses of the damnèd hordes, No mortal ken can e’er conceive or paint in words.

With heavy heart we mourn true friends or kin And grieve the loss of home, of liberty, Of that good name which all aspire to win Or health and ease and sweet tranquility; When dim, dark clouds enshroud our memory And pass ’tween us and heaven’s gracious smiles, ’Tis sadder far to wake to misery And feel that Pleasure now no more beguiles, That sin has left nought but the wounds of its base wiles.

With heavy heart the valiantest of men Lays low his head beneath th’ impending doom; In terror he descends death’s awsome glen; While there appear flashing through the gloom The lurid shades of deeds which in the bloom Of youth he dared; at last the conscience cries With ruthless voice: “There’s life beyond the tomb;” His dying thoughts all vanities despise As on the threshold of Eternity he lies.

The heavy heart that suffers all such grief May, while the breath of life doth still remain, Hope for a joyous peace and blest relief; But if grim Death his fated victim gain, Woe’s him that entereth the realm of pain— For e’er on him its frowning portals close, Nor gleam of hope shall he perceive again, For in that vast eternal night he knows A woe awaits that far surpasseth earthly woes.

The heavy heart beneath its weight is crushed, And at its very name—Damnation writ, All men their vain and froward clamors hushed; But when within the fiery gaping pit Whose flaming ramparts none will ever quit, Above the thunder’s roar th’ accursed host Raise such loud cries, it passeth human wit To dream of aught so dire, for at the most, All woes of earth as pleasures seem unto the lost.

From every vain complaining, cease, my friend, Since thou art yet not numbered with the dead But turn thy thoughts unto thy destined end, Behold thy Fates spin out the vital thread, And oftèn as thy mind to Hell be led, To contemplate the doleful gloom aglow, There will forthwith possess thee such a dread, Which Christ’s unbounded mercy doth bestow, Lest thou be doomed to that eternal realm of woe.

NOTES

In the book this note section contains footnotes for the preceding text. Each note is numbered by the page on which it occurs and as such are just footnotes poorly done. They have been turned back into footnotes in the eBook.—DP.

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{0} The genealogical tables in the book are in graphical form. The content is reproduced below as text—DP.

ELLIS WYNNE’S PEDIGREE

William Wynne of Glyn [Cywarch]. Sheriff of Merioneth 1618 & 1637. D. 1658. 12th in direct male descent from Osborn Wyddel = Catherine, daughter of William Lewis Anwyl of Park. Died 1638. Child: Ellis Wynne [1], 3rd son who probably lived at Maes-y-garnedd, Llanbedr.

Ellis Wynne [1] = Lowri, only daughter and heiress of Ed. Jones of Maes-y-garnedd, eldest borther of Col. Jones, Cromwell’s brother-in-law who was executed in 1660 as a regicide. Children: Edward Wynne [1]

Edward Wynne [1] = . . . heiress of Glasynys. Children: daughter; ELLIS WYNNE [2].

ELLIS WYNNE [2] = Lowri Llwyd of Hafod-lwyfog Beddgelert. Children: William [1] Rector of Llanaber; Ellis, died 1752; Catherine, died young; Edward [1], Rector of Penmorfa; Mary [1].

William [1] = . . . Lloyd of Trallwyn. Children: Daughter [1].

Daughter [1] = Robert Puw of Garth Maelan: Child: John Wynne Puw.

John Wynne Puw’s children: Robert and John.

Edward [1] had children: Frances; Ellis [3], Rector of Llanferres.

Ellis [3] had children: Elizabeth; Ann; Edward; John, Rector of Llandrillo; Frances; Ellis.

Mary [1] = Robert Own of Tygwyn Dolgellau.

THE RELATION BETWEEN ELLIS WYNNE & BISHOP HUMPHREYS.

Meredydd ap Evan ap Robert (11th in male descent from Owen Gwynedd). Died 1525. = Margaret, daughter of Morris ap John ap Meredydd of Clunnenau. Child: Humphrey Wynne ap Meredydd [1] of Gesail-gyfarch.

Humphrey Wynne ap Meredydd [1] = Catherine, daughter and heiress of Evan ap Griffith of Cwmbowydd. Children: John Wynne ap Humphrey [1] of Gesail-gyfarch; Evan Llwyd [1] of Hafod-lwyfog.

John Wynne ap Humphrey [1] = Catherine, daughter of William Wynne ap William of Cochwillan. Child: Robert Wynne [1] died 1637.

Robert Wynne [1] = Mary, daughter of Ellis ap Cadwaladr of Ystumllyn. Children: John Wynne [2]; Margaret, [2] succeeded to Gesail-gyfarch on her nephew’s death.

John Wynne [2] = Jane, daughter of Evan Llwyd of Dylase. Child: Robert Wynne of Gesail-gyfarch, Barr.-at-law. Ob. s. p. 1685.

Margaret [2] = Richard Humphreys of Hendref Gwenllian, Penrhyndeudraeth. Desceneded in male line from Marchweithian. An Officer in the Royal Army through Civil War. Died 1699. Children: HUMPHREY [1]. Born 1648. Dean of Bangor, 1680, Bishop 1689. Bishop of Hereford, 1701. Died 1712; John, died at Oxford; Catherine.

HUMPHREY [1] = Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Morgan Bishop of Bangor 1678, son of Rd. Morgan, M.P. for Montgomery Boroughs. Children: Ann, ob. s. p. 1698; Margaret [1], died 1759.

Margaret [1] = John Llwyd of Penylan, Barr.-at-law, son of Dr. W. Lloyd, Bishop of Norwich, deprived in 1691 as one of the Nonjurors.

Evan Llwyd [1] = Catherine, Daughter of Griffith Wynne of Penyberth. Child: John [3]

John [3] had children: Griffith [1] and Evans.

Griffith [1] had children: William ob. s. p.; LOWRI.

LOWRI = ELLIS WYNNE.

{0a} “A Catalogue of Graduates in the University of Oxford between 1659 and 1850” contains the following entry:—“Wynne (Ellis) Jes. BA., Oct. 14, 1718, MA., June 13, 1722.” But one can hardly suppose this to have been the _Bardd Cwsr_, as in 1718 he would be 47 years of age.

{0b} The following entries are taken from the register at Llanfair-juxta-Harlech:—“_Elizaeus Wynne Generosus de Lâsynys et Lowria Lloyd de Havod-lwyfog in agro Arvonensi in matrimonio conjuncti fuere decimo quarto die Feb. 1702_.”

{0c} “_Elizaeus Wynne junr. de Lâsynys sepultus est decimo die Octobris A.D. 1732_.”

{0d} “_Owenus Edwards cler. nuper Rector hums ecclesiae sepultus est tricesimo die Maii A.D. 1711_.” (From the Llanfair parish register.)

{0e} “_Lowria Uxor Elizaei Wynne cler. de Lasynys vigesimo quarto die Augti. sepulta est Ano. Dom. 1720_.”

“_Elizaeus Wynne Cler. nuper Rector dignissimus huius ecclesiae sepultus est 17mo. die Julii 1734_.” (From the parish register at Llanfair.)

{0f} “_The Visions of the Sleeping Bard_. First Part. Printed in London by E. Powell for the Author, 1703.”

{1a} _The opening lines_.—Ellis Wynne opens his vision as so many early English poets are wont, with a description of the season when, and the circumstances under which he fell asleep. Compare especially Langland’s Visions, _prologus_:

In a somer seson whan soft was the sonne I went wyde in this world wondres to here, Ac on a May mornynge on Malvern hulles Me befel a ferly of fairy me thoughte, I was wery forwandred and went me to reste Under a brode bank bi a bornes side And as I lay and leued and loked in the wateres I slombred in a slepyng it sweyved so merye.

{1b} _One of the mountains_.—The scene these opening lines describe was one with which the Bard was perfectly familiar. He had often climbed the slopes of the Vale of Ardudwy to view the glorious panorama around him from Bardsey Isle to Strumble Head, the whole length of rock-bound coast lay before him, while behind was the Snowdonian range, from Snowdon itself to Cader Idris; and often, no doubt, he had watched the sun sinking “far away over the Irish Sea, and reaching his western ramparts” beyond the Wicklow Hills.

{1c} _Master Sleep_.—Cp.:

Such sleepy dulness in that instant weigh’d My senses down.

—_Dante: Inf. C.I._ (_Cary’s trans_.)

Now leaden slumber with life’s strength doth fight.

—_Shakespere_: _Lucrece_, _124_.

{4a} _Such a fantastic rout_.—Literally “such a battle of Camlan.” This was the battle fought between Arthur and his nephew Medrod about the year 540 on the banks of the Camel between Cornwall and Somerset, where Arthur received the wounds of which he died. The combatants being relatives and former friends, it was characterised with unwonted ferocity, and has consequently come to be used proverbially for any fray or scene of more than usual tumult and confusion.

So all day long the noise of battle roll’d Among the mountains by the winter sea, Until King Arthur’s table, man by man, Had fallen in Lyonness about their Lord.

—_Tennyson_: _Morte d’Arthur_.

{4b} _To lampoon my king_.—The Bard commenced this Vision in the reign of William III. (v. also p. 17, “to drink the King’s health”) and completed it in that of Queen Anne, who is mentioned towards the end of the Vision.

{7} _The Turk and old Lewis of France_.—The Sultan Mustapha and Lewis XIV. are thus referred to.

{14} _Clippers_.—The context seems to demand this meaning, that is, “those who debase coin of the realm,” rather than “beggars” from the Welsh “_clipan_.”

{20} _Backgammon and dice_.—These games, together with chess, were greatly in vogue in mediæval Wales, and are frequently alluded to in the Mabinogion and other early works. The four minor games or feats (_gogampau_) among the Welsh were playing the harp, chess, backgammon, and dice. The word “_ffristial a disiau_” are here rendered by the one word “dice”—_ffristial_ meaning either the dice-box, or the game itself, and _disiau_, the dice.

{21} _This wailing is for pay_.—Cp.

Ut qui conducti plorant in funere dicunt et faciunt prope plora dolentibus ex animo.

—_Horace_: _Ars Poetica_, _430–1_.

{23} _The butt of everybody_.—Whenever a number of bards, in the course of their peregrinations from one patron’s hall to another, met of a night, their invariable custom was to appoint one of the company to be the butt of their wit, and he was expected to give ready answer in verse and parry the attacks of his brethren. It is said of Dafydd ap Gwilym that he satirized one unfortunate butt of a bard so fiercely that he fell dead at his feet.

{24} _Congregation of mutes_.—At the time Ellis Wynne wrote, the Quakers were very numerous in Merioneth and Montgomery and especially in his own immediate neighbourhood, where they probably had a burying-ground and conventicle. They naturally became the objects of cruel persecution at the hands of the dominant church as well as of the state; their meetings were broken up, their members imprisoned and maltreated, until at last they were forced to leave their fatherland and seek freedom of worship across the Atlantic.

{25} _Speak no ill_.—A Welsh proverb; _v. Myv. Arch. III. 182_.

{26} _We came to a barn_.—The beginning of Nonconformity in Wales. In the Author’s time there were already many adherents to the various dissenting bodies in North Wales. Walter Cradoc, Morgan Llwyd and others had been preaching the Gospel many years previously throughout the length and breadth of Gwynedd; and it was their followers that now fell under the Bard’s lash.

{28a} _Corruption of the best_.—A Welsh adage; _v. Myv. Arch. III. 185_.

{28b} _Some mocking_.—Compare Bunyan’s Christian starting from the City of Destruction: “So he looked not behind him, but fled towards the middle of the plain. The neighbours came out to see him run, and as he ran, some mocked, others threatened and some cried after him to return.”

{29} _Who is content_.—Cp.

Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo, quam sibi sortem Seu ratio dederit seu fors obiecerit, illa Contentus vivat, laudet diversa sequentes?

—_Horace_: _Sat. I. i._

{34} _Increases his own penalty_.—Cp.