The Visions of the Sleeping Bard

by Ellis Wynne

By this we were at the gate: it was very low and narrow, and mean, compared with the lower gates; around the door the Ten Commandments were graven—the first table on the right hand and above it, “Thou shalt love God with all thy heart,” and above the other table on the left, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,” and above the whole “Love not the world neither the things that are in the world.” I had not been looking on long before the watchmen began calling in a loud voice upon the condemned men: “Flee, flee for your lives!” But it was few that gave any heed at all to them, though some enquired, “What are we to flee from?” “From the prince of this world, who ruleth in the children of disobedience; from the corruption that is in the world through the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life; from the wrath that is coming upon you.” “What is your beloved city?” cried a watchman, “but a huge charred roof over the mouth of hell, and were ye here ye should see the conflagration beyond your walls ready to burst in and consume you even unto the bottomless pit.” Some mocked, others, menacing, bade them have done with their wicked nonsense; yet one here and there would ask, “Whither shall we flee?” “Hither,” answered the watchmen, “flee hither to your rightful king, who through us still offers you reconciliation, if ye return to your allegiance, and leave that rebel Belial and his bewitching daughters. However fair they appear, it is all sham; Belial is but a very poor prince at home; he has nought but you as faggots for the fire and for food, both roast and boiled, and never will ye suffice him; never will his hunger be appeased or your pain cease. Who would ever in a moment of madness enter the service of such a malignant slaughterer, and suffer eternal torments, when he might live well under a king who is merciful and kind to his subjects, and who hath never done them aught but good on all sides, and kept them from Belial, so that in the end he might give to each one a kingdom in the realm of light. Oh, ye fools, will ye have that terrible foe, whose lips are parched with thirst for your blood, and reject the compassionate prince who hath given his own blood to save you?” Yet these reasons which would melt the rock seemed to have no good effect upon them, and chiefly because few had the time to listen to them, the others were too intently gazing at the gates; and of those listening, very few reflected thereon, and of these again, many soon forgot them; some would not believe they served Belial, others would not have it that this untrodden little hole was the gate of Life, and that the other bright portals, and this castle, were a delusion to prevent them seeing their doom before coming face to face with it.

Just then, behold a troop of people from the Street of Pride, knocking boldly enough at the gate; but they were all so stiff-necked that they could never enter a place so low without soiling their periwigs and horns, so they sulkily retraced their steps. In their wake there came up a group from the Street of Lucre: “And is this the Gate of Life?” asked one; “Yea,” said the watchman overhead. “What must be done to enter?” he enquired. “Read what is inscribed above the doorway and ye shall know.” The miser read the Ten Commandments through: “Who will say that I have broken one of these?” he exclaimed. But when he looked up, and saw the words, “Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world,” he was amazed, and could not swallow that hard saying. There was one, green-eyed and envious, who turned back when he read: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” There was a gossip and a slanderer who became dazed on reading: “Thou shalt not bear false witness.” When he read, “Thou shalt not kill,” “This is not the place for me” quoth the physician. In short, everybody saw something which troubled him, and so they all returned together to consider the matter. I saw no one yet come back who had conned his lesson; they had so many bags and scripts tightly bound to them, that they could never have got through such a narrow needle’s eye, even if they had tried to. After that a drove from the Street of Pleasure walked up to the gate. “Where, pray, does this road lead to?” asked one of the watchmen. “This,” answered he, “is the way that leads to eternal joy and happiness.” Whereupon all strove to enter, but failed, for some were too stout to pass through such a strait opening; others too weak to struggle, being enfeebled through debauchery. “Oh, ye must not attempt to take your baubles with you,” said the watchman, observing them; “ye must leave behind your pots and dishes, your minions, and all other things, and then hasten on.” “How shall we live?” asked the fiddler, who would have been through long since but that he feared to smash his fiddle. “Ye must trust the king’s promise to send after you as many of these things as will do you good,” said the watchman. This made them all prick their ears, “Oh, oh!” said one, “a bird in hand is worth two in the bush,” and at that they with one accord turned back.

“Let us enter then,” said the Angel, and drew me in; and there in the porch I first of all perceived a large baptismal font, and hard by, a well of salt water. “What is this doing in the middle of the road?” I asked. “Because everybody must wash therein before obtaining citizenship in the Court of Emmanuel; it is called the well of repentance.” Overhead I could see inscribed “This is the gate of the Lord.” The gateway, and street also, widened and became less steep as we went on, and after proceeding a short distance I heard a voice behind me slowly saying, “That is the way, walk ye in it.” The street trended upwards, but was very clean and straight, and though the houses there were not so lofty as those in the City of Destruction, they were fairer to behold; if there was less wealth, there was also less dissension and care; if the choice dishes were fewer, pain was more rare; if there was less turmoil, there was less grief and more undoubtedly of true joy. I wondered at the silence and sweet tranquility there, when thinking of what was going on below. Instead of the cursing and swearing, the scoffing, debauchery and drunkenness, instead of the pride and vanity, the torpitude of one quarter and the violence of another, yea, for all the bustle and the pomp, the hurly-burly and the brawl which there unceasingly bewildered men, and for the innumerable and unvarying sins, there was nothing to be seen here but sobriety, kindness and cheerfulness, peace and thankfulness, compassion, innocence and contentment stamped upon the face of every man, except where one or two silently wept, grieving that they had tarried so long in the enemy’s city. There was no hatred or anger, except towards sin, and this was certain to be overcome; no fear, but of displeasing their king, who was more ready to be reconciled than to be angry with his subjects; no sound, but that of psalms of praise to their Saviour. By this we had come in sight of an exceedingly fine building, oh, so magnificent! No one in the City of Destruction, neither the Turk nor the Mogul nor any one else, has anything equal to it. “This is the Catholic Church,” said the Angel. “Is it here Emmanuel holds his court?” asked I. “Yes, this is the only royal court he has on earth.” “Are there many crowned heads beneath his sway?” “A few—thy queen, some of the princes of Scandinavia and Germany, and a few other petty princes.” “What is that compared with those over whom great Belial rules—emperors and kings without number?” “For all that,” said the Angel, “not one of them can move a finger without Emmanuel’s permission—no, not even Belial himself. For Emmanuel is his rightful liege too, only that he rebelled, and was in consequence bound in chains to all eternity; although he is still allowed for a short period to visit the City of Destruction where he entices all he can into like rebellion, and to bear a share of his punishment; and though he well knows that by so doing he increases his own penalty, [34] yet malice and envy urge him on whenever he has a pretext, and so much does he love evil that he seeks to destroy this city and this edifice, although he knows of yore that its Saviour is invincible.”

“Prithee, my lord,” said I, “may we approach so as to obtain a better view of this magnificent royal court” (for my heart waxed warm towards the place since first I had beheld it). “Oh yes, easily,” answered the Angel, “for therein is my place, my duty and my work.” The nearer I came thereto the more I wondered at the height, strength, splendour, grandeur, and beauty of its every part, how skilful the work was, and how apt the materials. Its base was an enormous rock wondrously fashioned, and of strength impregnable; upon it were living stones, laid and joined in such perfect order that no stone could possibly appear finer elsewhere than in its own place. One part of the church projected in the form of a wonderfully handsome cross, and the Angel saw me looking at it, and said, “Dost thou recognise that part?” I knew not what to answer. “That is the Church of England,” he said. I was somewhat startled, and looking up beheld Queen Anne on the church-top enthroned, with a sword in each hand—the one in the left called “Justice,” to defend her subjects against the inhabitants of the City of Destruction, the one in the right, to preserve them from Belial and his spiritual evils, and this was called “the sword of the Spirit,” or the Word of God. Beneath the left sword lay the statute book of England, and beneath the other, a big Bible. The sword of the Spirit was fiery, and of immense length, and would kill further away than the other would touch. I could see the other princes with like arms defending their part of the church, but I deemed mine own queen fairest of all, and her arms the brightest. At her right hand I observed throngs clad in black—archbishops, bishops, and learned men upholding with her the sword of the Spirit, while soldiers and officials, with a few lawyers, supported the other sword. I was allowed to rest awhile, by one of the magnificent doors where people came in to obtain membership in the Universal Church, and whereat a tall angel was doorkeeper. The interior of the church was lit up so brilliantly that Hypocrisy dared not show her face therein, and though sometimes she appeared at the threshold she never entered. Just as I saw, in the space of a quarter of an hour, a Papist, who thought that the Catholic Church belonged to the Pope, came and claimed its freedom. “What have you to prove your right?” demanded the porter. “I have plenty of the traditions of the fathers, and of councils of the church,” he answered, “but what need I more certain than the word of the Pope, who sits in the infallible chair?” Then the doorkeeper opened a huge Bible—a load in itself; “This,” said he, “is our only statute book—prove your right from this or go.” And he straightway departed.

Then came a flock of Quakers, who wished to enter with their hats on, but were turned away for being so ill-mannered. After them some of the barn-folk, who had been there only a short while, began to speak: “We have the same statute book as ye have,” they averred, “and therefore show us our privileged place.” “Stay,” said the bright porter, steadfastly gazing on their foreheads, “I will show you something: see yon mark of the rent ye made in the church when leaving it without cause or reason? And would ye now have a place therein? Get ye back to the narrow gate, and wash thoroughly in the well of repentance, to see if ye will reach some of the royal blood ye erstwhile drank [36] and bring some of the water of that well to moisten the clay, so as to make up yonder rent and then ye are welcome.”

Before we had gone a rood westward I heard a noise coming from above, from among the princes, and everybody, great and small, was taking up arms and donning his armour as if for war, and ere I had time to cast about me for a refuge, the whole sky became black, and the city darker than when an eclipse befalls; the thunder roared, the lightning flashed to and fro, and ceaseless showers of deadly shafts were directed from the lower gates against the Catholic Church, and had there not been in each man’s hand a shield to receive the fiery darts, and had the foundation rock not been so strong that nothing could ever harm it, we all would have become one burning mass. But alack, this was but a prologue or foretaste of what was to follow; for suddenly the darkness became sevenfold more intense, and Belial himself advanced in the densest cloud, and around him his chief officers both earthly and infernal, ready to receive and accomplish his behest at their several posts. He had entrusted the Pope and his other son of France [37] with the destruction of the Church of England and its queen; the Turks and Muscovites were to strike at the other sections of the Church, and slay the people, and especially the queen and the other princes, and above all to burn the Bible. The first thing the queen and the other saints did was to bend the knee and tell of their wrongs to the King of Kings in these words: “The stretching out of his wings shall fill the breadth of thy land, oh Emmanuel.” And immediately a voice replied: “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” And then commenced the greatest and most terrible conflict that ever took place on earth. When the sword of the Spirit began to be whirled round, Belial and his infernal hosts began to retreat; then the Pope began to waver, while the King of France still held out, though he too was almost giving up heart, seeing the queen and her subjects so united, while he himself was losing ships and men on the one hand, and on the other many of his subjects were in open revolt; and the onslaught of the Turk also was becoming less fierce. Just then, woe’s me, I saw my beloved companion shooting away from me into the welkin to join a myriad other bright princes. Thereupon the Pope and the other earthly commanders began to slink off and become prostrate through fear, and the infernal princes to fall by the thousands. The noise of each one falling seemed to me as if a great mountain fell into the depths of the sea, and between this noise and the agitation on losing my friend, I awoke from sleep, and returned to this oppressive sod, most unwillingly, so pleasant and enjoyable it was to be a free spirit, and above all to be in such company, notwithstanding the great danger I was in. Now I had no one to comfort me save the Muse, and she was rather moody—scarcely could I get her to bray out these lines that follow:—

Behold this wondrous edifice,
Both heaven and earth comprising,
The universe and all that is
At God’s command arising—
This world, with ramparts wide from pole to pole,
Down from its starry, brilliant dome,
E’en to the depths where angry billows roll,
And beasts that through the forest roam—
All things that sea and sky afford,
Thy faithful subjects eke to be;
A lesser heaven, a home for thee
Oh! man, creation’s lord.

But once that thou desired to know
The ways of sin, seductive,
The hellish tempter, to our woe,
Became a power destructive;
He cursed our earth and ruin brought on all,
Yea, very nature felt the bane—
Its blighted walls now totter to their fall,
And soon disorder rules again.
This earthly palace then at last,
Unroofed, dismantled and decayed,
A hideous, barren waste is laid
By desolation’s blast.

Behold oh, man! this glorious place
In the empyrean hovering
While all is but a treach’rous face
Foul swamps and quagmires covering.
Thy sin, that whelmed this earth in days of yore,
Shall draw upon it quenchless fire
With flaming torrents wildly rushing o’er—
A prey to conflagration dire;
If thou wouldst ’scape this dreadful fate,
I pray thee counsel take from me,
To Mercy’s city straightway flee
For life within its gate.

Behold that city’s peerless might
Withstanding all oppression—
Then flee thereto in thy sad plight,
Be free from sin’s possession.
Behold thy refuge in this dreary land
Where all may find true, peaceful rest,
A rock, impregnable on every hand,
Where perfect love reigns ever blest;
We sinful men, the way must search,
And there in faith for pardon pray,
And live a blissful, tranquil day
Within the Holy Church.