“And who are you?” exclaimed the young man, with a volley of oaths, while he struggled to free himself.
“That you will see by-and-by!” returned the other, in a tone that excited unaccountable terror in the youth, who, plunging his spurs into his horse, attempted to fly. But in vain: however fast the animal flew, the stranger was still beside him, till at length, in his desperate efforts to escape, the rider was thrown; but instead of being dashed to the earth, as he expected, he found himself falling—falling—falling still, as if sinking into the bowels of the earth.
At length, a period being put to this mysterious descent, he found breath to inquire of his companion, who was still beside him, whither they were going: “Where am I? where are you taking me?” he exclaimed.
“To hell!” replied the stranger, and immediately interminable echoes repeated the fearful sound, “To hell!—to hell!—to hell!”
At length a light appeared, which soon increased to a blaze; but, instead of the cries, and groans, and lamentings, which the terrified traveller expected, nothing met his ear but sounds of music, mirth, and jollity; and he found himself at the entrance of a superb building, far exceeding any he had seen constructed by human hands. Within, too, what a scene! No amusement, employment, or pursuit of man on earth, but was here being carried on with a vehemence that excited his unutterable amazement. “There the young and lovely still swam through the mazes of the giddy dance! There the panting steed still bore his brutal rider through the excitements of the goaded race! There, over the midnight bowl, the intemperate still drawled out the wanton song or maudlin blasphemy! The gambler plied for ever his endless game, and the slaves of Mammon toiled through eternity their bitter task; while all the magnificence of earth paled before that which now met his view!”
He soon perceived that he was among old acquaintances, whom he knew to be dead, and each he observed was pursuing the object, whatever it was, that had formerly engrossed him; when, finding himself relieved of the presence of his unwelcome conductor, he ventured to address his former friend Mrs. D——, whom he saw sitting, as had been her wont on earth, absorbed at loo, requesting her to rest from the game, and introduce him to the pleasures of the place, which appeared to him to be very unlike what he had expected, and, indeed, an extremely agreeable one. But, with a cry of agony, she answered that there was no rest in hell; that they must ever toil on at those very pleasures: and innumerable voices echoed through the interminable vaults, “There is no rest in hell!”—while, throwing open their vests, each disclosed in his bosom an ever-burning flame! These, they said, were the pleasures of hell: their choice on earth was now their inevitable doom! In the midst of the horror this scene inspired, his conductor returned, and at his earnest entreaty, restored him again to earth; but, as he quitted him, he said, “Remember!—in a year and a day we meet again!”
At this crisis of his dream, the sleeper awoke, feverish and ill; and, whether from the effect of his dream, or of his preceding orgies, he was so unwell as to be obliged to keep his bed for several days, during which period he had time for many serious reflections, which terminated in a resolution to abandon the club and his licentious companions altogether.
He was no sooner well, however, than they flocked around him, bent on recovering so valuable a member of their society; and having wrung from him a confession of the cause of his defection, which, as may be supposed, appeared to them eminently ridiculous, they soon contrived to make him ashamed of his good resolutions. He joined them again, resumed his former course of life, and when the annual saturnalia came round, he found himself with his glass in his hand at the table—when the president, rising to make the accustomed speech, began with saying, “Gentlemen, this being leap-year, it is a year and a day since our last anniversary,” &c., &c. The words struck upon the young man’s ear like a knell; but, ashamed to expose his weakness to the jeers of his companions, he sat out the feast, plying himself with wine even more liberally than usual, in order to drown his intrusive thoughts; till, in the gloom of a winter’s morning, he mounted his horse to ride home. Some hours afterward, the horse was found, with his saddle and bridle on, quietly grazing by the roadside, about half way between the city and Mr. B——’s house; while, a few yards off, lay the corpse of his master!
Now, as I have said in introducing this story, it is no fiction: the circumstance happened as here related. An account of it was published at the time, but the copies were bought up by the family. Two or three, however, were preserved, and the narrative has been reprinted.
The dream is evidently of a symbolical character, and accords in a very remarkable degree with the conclusions to be drawn from the sources I have above indicated. The interpretation seems to be, that the evil passions and criminal pursuits which have been indulged in here, become our curse hereafter. I do not mean to imply that the ordinary amusements of life are criminal—far from it. There is no harm in dancing, nor in playing at loo either; but if people make these things the whole business of their lives, and think of nothing else, cultivating no higher tastes, nor forming no higher aspirations, what sort of preparation are they making for another world? I can hardly imagine that anybody would wish to be doing these things to all eternity, the more especially that it is most frequently ennui that drives their votaries into excesses, even here; but if they have allowed their minds to be entirely absorbed in such frivolities and trivialities, surely they can not expect that God will, by a miracle, suddenly obliterate these tastes and inclinations, and inspire them with others better suited to their new condition! It was their business to do that for themselves, while here; and such a process of preparation is not in the slightest degree inconsistent with the enjoyment of all manner of harmless pleasures; on the contrary, it gives the greatest zest to them; for a life, in which there is nothing serious—in which all is play and diversion—is, beyond doubt, next to a life of active, persevering wickedness, the saddest thing under the sun! But let everybody remember that we see in nature no violent transitions; everything advances by almost insensible steps—at least everything that is to endure: and therefore to expect that because they have quitted their fleshly bodies, which they always knew were but a temporary appurtenance, doomed to perish and decay, they themselves are to undergo a sudden and miraculous conversion and purification, which is to elevate them into fit companions for the angels of heaven, and the blessed that have passed away, is surely one of the most inconsistent, unreasonable, and pernicious errors, that mankind ever indulged in!