The Fires of Hell—A Vengeful Spirit—Pirates—The Sea of Foul Mud—The Mountains of Selfish Oppression—The Forest of Desolation—Messages of Love

Away before me stretched a narrow path, and curious to see where it would lead I followed it, sure that it would somehow lead me to those whom I could help. After following it for a short time I came to the foot of a range of black mountains, and before me was the entrance to a huge cavern. Horrible reptiles were hanging on to the walls and crawling at my feet. Great funguses and monstrous air plants of an oozy slimy kind hung in festoons like ragged shrouds from the roof, and a dark pool of stagnant water almost covered the floor. I thought of turning away from this spot, but a voice seemed to bid me go on, so I entered, and skirting round the edge of the dark pool found myself at the entrance to a small dark passage in the rocks. Down this I went, and turning a corner saw before me a red light as from a fire, while dark forms like goblins passed and repassed between it and myself. Another moment and I stood at the end of the passage. Before me was a gigantic dungeon-like vault, its uneven rocky roof half revealed and half hidden by the masses of lurid smoke and flames which arose from an enormous fire blazing in the middle of the cavern, while round it were dancing such a troop of demons as might well typify the Devils of Hell. With shrieks and yells of laughter they were prodding at the fire with long black spears and dancing and flinging themselves about in the wildest fashion, while in a corner were huddled together a dozen or so of miserable dark spirits towards whom they made frantic rushes from time to time as if about to seize and hurl them into the fire, always retreating again with yells and howls of rage.

A narrow path stretched out before me, and curiosity led me to follow it, hoping it would guide me to those I could help. Soon, I reached the base of a range of black mountains, where a massive cavern entrance loomed. Hideous reptiles clung to the walls and slithered at my feet. Massive fungi and monstrous air plants, slimy and oozing, hung like tattered shrouds from the ceiling. A dark, stagnant pool covered most of the floor. I considered turning back, but an inner voice urged me forward. Skirting the edge of the murky pool, I discovered a small, dark passage in the rocks. As I ventured deeper and rounded a corner, I glimpsed a red glow ahead, with shadowy, goblin-like figures moving between it and me. Moments later, I stood at the passage's end, facing a colossal, dungeon-like vault. Its jagged rocky ceiling was partially obscured by billowing smoke and flames from an enormous fire blazing in the cavern's center. Around it danced a horde of demons that could easily represent the Devils of Hell. They shrieked and laughed maniacally, jabbing at the fire with long black spears and wildly flinging themselves about. In a corner huddled a group of wretched, dark spirits. The demons made frenzied rushes toward them, as if to seize and hurl them into the flames, always retreating with howls and yells of frustration.

I soon perceived that I was invisible to these beings, so taking courage from that fact, I drew nearer. To my horror I discovered that the fire was composed of the bodies of living men and women who writhed and twisted in the flames, and were tossed about by the spears of those awful demons. I was so appalled by this discovery that I cried out to know if this was a real scene or only some horrible illusion of this dreadful place, and the same deep mysterious voice that had often spoken to me in my wanderings answered me now.

I quickly realized these beings couldn't see me, which gave me the courage to move closer. To my horror, I saw that the fire was made up of living people, writhing and twisting in the flames, being tossed about by the spears of those terrifying demons. Shocked by this sight, I cried out, asking if this was real or just some terrible illusion created by this dreadful place. The same deep, mysterious voice that had often spoken to me during my journey answered me once again.

"Son! they are living souls who in their earthly lives doomed hundreds of their fellow men to die this dreadful death, and knew no pity, no remorse, in doing so. Their own cruelties have kindled these fierce flames of passion and hate in the breast of their many victims, and in the spirit world these fiery germs have grown till they are now a fierce flame to consume the oppressors. These fires are fed solely by the fierce cruelties of those they now consume; there is not here one pang of anguish which has not been suffered a hundred fold more in the persons of these spirits' many helpless victims. From this fire these spirits will come forth touched by a pity, born of their own sufferings, for those they wronged in the past, and then will be extended to them the hand of help and the means of progression through deeds of mercy as many and as great as have been their merciless deeds in the past. Do not shudder nor marvel that such retribution as this is allowed to be. The souls of these spirits were so hard, so cruel, that only sufferings felt by themselves could make them pity others. Even since they left the earth life they have only been intent upon making others more helpless suffer, till the bitter hatred they have aroused has become at last a torrent which has engulfed themselves. Furthermore, know that these flames are not truly material, although to your eyes and to theirs they appear so, for in the spirit world that which is mental is likewise objective, and fierce hatred or burning passion does indeed seem a living fire. You shall now follow one of these spirits and see for yourself that what seems to you cruel justice is yet mercy in disguise. Behold these passions are burning themselves out and the souls are about to pass into the darkness of the plain beyond."

Son, these are the souls of those who, in their earthly lives, sentenced hundreds to this terrible fate without pity or remorse. Their cruelty sparked fierce flames of passion and hate in their victims' hearts. In the spirit world, these fiery seeds have grown into a consuming blaze for the oppressors. These fires are fueled solely by the brutal acts of those they now burn. Every moment of anguish here has been suffered a hundredfold by their helpless victims. From these flames, the spirits will emerge with newfound empathy for those they wronged, born from their own suffering. They'll then be offered help and a chance to progress through acts of mercy as numerous and significant as their past cruelties. Don't be shocked that such retribution is allowed. These spirits were so heartless that only personal suffering could teach them compassion. Even after death, they've only sought to make others suffer, until the hatred they provoked became a flood that engulfed them. Remember, these flames aren't truly physical, though they appear so to you and them. In the spirit world, the mental becomes tangible, and intense hatred or passion manifests as living fire. Now, you'll follow one of these spirits and see for yourself that what seems like harsh justice is actually disguised mercy. Observe as these passions burn out, and the souls prepare to enter the darkness of the plain beyond.

As the voice ceased the flames died down and all was darkness save for a faint bluish light like phosphorus that filled the cavern, and by it I saw the forms of the spirits rise from the ashes of the fire and pass out of the cavern. As I followed them one became separated from the others and passing on before me went into the streets of a city that was near. It seemed to me like one of the old Spanish cities of the West Indies or South America. There were Indians passing along its streets and mingling with Spaniards and men of several other nations.

As the voice faded, the flames subsided, plunging everything into darkness except for a faint bluish glow, reminiscent of phosphorescence, that filled the cavern. By this dim light, I watched the spirits' forms rise from the fire's ashes and exit the cave. Following them, I noticed one spirit break away from the group. It moved ahead of me, entering the streets of a nearby city. The place resembled an old Spanish colonial town in the West Indies or South America. Its streets bustled with a diverse mix of people - Indians, Spaniards, and individuals from various other nations.

Following the spirit through several streets we came to a large building which seemed to be a monastery of the order of Jesuits--who had helped to colonize the country and force upon the unhappy natives the Roman Catholic religion, in the days when religious persecution was thought by most creeds to be a proof of religious zeal; and then, while I stood watching this spirit, I saw pass before me a panorama of his life.

We followed the spirit through several streets until we reached a large building that appeared to be a Jesuit monastery. The Jesuits had played a role in colonizing the country and imposing Roman Catholicism on the unfortunate natives. This occurred during a time when many religious groups viewed persecution as evidence of devotion. As I stood observing this spirit, I witnessed a panorama of his life unfold before me.

I saw him first chief of his order, sitting as a judge before whom were brought many poor Indians and heretics, and I saw him condemning them by hundreds to torture and flames because they would not become converts to his teachings. I saw him oppressing all who were not powerful enough to resist him, and extorting jewels and gold in enormous quantities as tribute to him and to his order; and if any sought to resist him and his demands he had them arrested and almost without even the pretense of a trial thrown into dungeons and tortured and burned. I read in his heart a perfect thirst for wealth and power and an actual love for beholding the sufferings of his victims, and I knew (reading as I seemed to do his innermost soul) that his religion was but a cloak, a convenient name, under which to extort the gold he loved and gratify his love of power.

I first encountered him as the leader of his religious order, presiding as a judge over trials of numerous impoverished indigenous people and religious dissenters. He sentenced hundreds to torture and death by fire for refusing to convert to his faith. I observed him oppressing anyone too weak to resist, demanding exorbitant tributes of jewels and gold for himself and his order. Those who dared oppose him or his demands were arrested and, with barely a semblance of a trial, thrown into dungeons to be tortured and burned. As I peered into his heart, I sensed an insatiable thirst for wealth and power, coupled with a disturbing pleasure in witnessing the suffering of his victims. Reading his innermost thoughts, I realized his religious devotion was merely a façade—a convenient disguise under which he could extort the gold he craved and satisfy his lust for power.

Again I saw the great square or market place of this city with hundreds of great fires blazing all round it till it was like a furnace, and a whole helpless crowd of timid gentle natives were bound hand and foot and thrown into the flames, and their cries of agony went up to Heaven as this cruel man and his vile accomplices chanted their false prayers and held aloft the sacred cross which was desecrated by their unholy hands, their horrible lives of cruelty and vice, and their greed for gold. I saw that this horror was perpetrated in the name of the Church of Christ--of him whose teachings were of love and charity, who came to teach that God was perfect Love. And I saw this man who called himself Christ's minister, and yet had no thought of pity for one of these unhappy victims; he thought alone of how the spectacle would strike terror to the hearts of other Indian tribes, and make them bring him more gold to satisfy his greedy lust. Then I beheld this man returned to his own land of Spain and revelling in his ill-gotten wealth, a powerful wealthy prince of the church, venerated by the poor ignorant populace as a holy man who had gone forth into that Western World beyond the seas to plant the banner of his church and preach the blessed gospel of love and peace, while, instead, his path had been marked in fire and blood, and then my sympathy for him was gone. Then I saw this man upon his deathbed, and I saw monks and priests chanting mass for his soul that it might go to Heaven, and instead I saw it drawn down and down to Hell by the chains woven in his wicked life. I saw the great hordes of his former victims awaiting him there, drawn down in their turn by their thirst for revenge, their hunger for power to avenge their sufferings and the sufferings of those most dear to them.

I witnessed the city's main square transformed into a hellish inferno, with countless fires blazing around its perimeter. Helpless natives, gentle and afraid, were bound and thrown into the flames. Their agonized screams rose to the heavens as a cruel man and his vile accomplices chanted false prayers, holding aloft the sacred cross. This holy symbol was desecrated by their unholy hands, their lives of cruelty and vice, and their insatiable greed for gold. This atrocity was committed in the name of the Church of Christ, whose teachings were of love and charity, and who came to show that God is perfect Love. The man who called himself Christ's minister showed no pity for the victims. His only concern was how this spectacle would terrify other Indian tribes, compelling them to bring him more gold to satisfy his greed. I then saw this man return to Spain, reveling in his ill-gotten wealth. He became a powerful, wealthy prince of the church, venerated by the ignorant masses as a holy man. They believed he had gone to the Western World to spread the church's influence and preach the gospel of love and peace. In reality, his path had been marked by fire and blood, and my sympathy for him vanished. Finally, I witnessed this man on his deathbed. Monks and priests chanted mass for his soul, hoping it would ascend to Heaven. Instead, I saw it dragged down to Hell by the chains forged in his wicked life. There, great hordes of his former victims awaited him, pulled down in turn by their thirst for revenge and their desperate desire to avenge their sufferings and those of their loved ones.

I saw this man in Hell surrounded by those he had wronged, and haunted by the empty wraiths of such as were too good and pure to come to this place of horror or to wish for vengeance on their murderer, just as I had seen in the Frozen Land with the man in the icy cage; and in Hell the only thought of that spirit was rage because his power on earth was no more--his only idea how he might join with others in Hell as cruel as himself and thus still oppress and torture. If he could have doomed his victims to death a second time he would have done it. In his heart there was neither pity nor remorse, only anger that he was so powerless. Had he possessed one feeling of sorrow or one thought of kindness for another, it would have helped him and created a wall between himself and these vengeful spirits, and his sufferings, though they might be great, would not have at last assumed the physical aspect in which I had beheld them. As it was, his passion of cruelty was so great it fed and fanned into fresh life the spiritual flames which theirs created, till at last when I saw him first they were dying out exhausted by their own violence. Those demons I had beheld were the last and most fierce of his victims in whom the desire for revenge was even then not fully satisfied, while those I had beheld crouching in the corner were some who, no longer desirous of tormenting him themselves, had yet been unable to withdraw themselves from beholding his sufferings and those of his accomplices.

I witnessed this man in Hell, surrounded by his victims and haunted by the spirits of those too pure to seek vengeance. As in the Frozen Land with the man in the ice cage, this spirit's only thoughts were of rage and lost power. He longed to join other cruel souls to continue his oppression and torture, wishing he could kill his victims again. His heart held no pity or remorse, only anger at his powerlessness. Had he felt even a shred of sorrow or kindness, it would have shielded him from the vengeful spirits. Instead, his cruelty fueled the spiritual flames created by his victims' anger. When I first saw him, these flames were dying out, exhausted by their own intensity. The demons I saw were his most recent and fiercest victims, still unsatisfied in their desire for revenge. Those crouching in the corner no longer wished to torment him themselves but couldn't tear themselves away from witnessing his suffering and that of his accomplices.

And now I beheld that spirit with the newly awakened thought of repentence, returning to the city to warn others of his Jesuit fraternity, and to try to turn them from the path of his own errors. He did not yet realize the length of time that had elapsed since he had left the earth life, nor that this city was the spiritual counterpart of the one he had lived in on earth. In time, I was told, he would be sent back to earth to work as a spirit in helping to teach mortals the pity and mercy he had not shown in his own life, but first he would have to work here in this dark place, striving to release the souls of those whom his crimes had dragged down with him. Thus I left this man at the door of that building which was the counterpart of his earthly house, and passed on by myself through the city.

I observed the spirit, now filled with remorse, returning to the city to caution his fellow Jesuits and attempt to steer them away from his past mistakes. He was unaware of how long he had been gone from his earthly life, or that this city was a spiritual reflection of his former earthly home. Eventually, I learned, he would be sent back to Earth as a spirit to teach living people the compassion and mercy he had failed to show in life. But first, he had to work in this gloomy realm, striving to free the souls his crimes had dragged down with him. I left this man at the entrance of the building mirroring his earthly home and continued my solitary journey through the city.

Like the Roman city this one was disfigured and its beauties blotted out by the crimes of which it had been the silent witness; and to me the air seemed full of dark phantom forms wailing and weeping and dragging after them their heavy chains. The whole place seemed built upon living graves and shrouded in a dark red mist of blood and tears. It was like one vast prison house whose walls were built of deeds of violence and robbery and oppression.

Like its Roman counterpart, this city was marred, its beauty obscured by the atrocities it had silently witnessed. The air seemed thick with dark, phantom forms, their wails and sobs echoing as they dragged heavy chains behind them. The entire place felt as if it were built upon living graves, shrouded in a dark red mist of blood and tears. It resembled an enormous prison, its walls constructed from acts of violence, theft, and oppression.

And as I wandered on I had a waking dream, and saw the city as it had been on earth ere the white man had set his foot upon its soil. I saw a peaceful primitive people living upon fruits and grains and leading their simple lives in an innocence akin to that of childhood, worshiping the Great Supreme under a name of their own, yet none the less worshiping him in spirit and in truth--their simple faith and their patient virtues the outcome of the inspiration given them from that Great Spirit who is universal and belongs to no creeds, no churches. Then I saw white men come thirsting for gold and greedy to grasp the goods of others, and these simple people welcomed them like brothers, and in their innocence showed them the treasures they had gathered from the earth--gold and silver and jewels. Then I saw the treachery which marked the path of the white man; how they plundered and killed the simple natives; how they tortured and made slaves of them, forcing them to labor in the mines till they died by thousands; how all faith, all promises, were broken by the white man till the peaceful happy country was filled with tears and blood.

As I wandered, I had a vivid daydream. I saw the city as it was before colonization - a peaceful, primitive society living off the land. These people led simple lives, their innocence reminiscent of childhood. They worshiped a Supreme Being under their own name, but their faith was genuine and their virtues stemmed from a universal Great Spirit, transcending creeds and churches. Then I saw the arrival of colonizers, driven by greed for gold and possessions. The natives welcomed them as brothers, naively showing them their treasures of gold, silver, and jewels gathered from the earth. What followed was a tale of betrayal. The colonizers plundered, killed, and enslaved the natives, forcing them to work in mines where thousands perished. Every promise was broken, every show of faith betrayed, until this once peaceful, happy land was awash with tears and blood.

Then I beheld afar, away in Spain, a few good, true, kindly men whose souls were pure and who believed that they alone had the true faith by which only man can be saved and live eternally, who thought that God had given this light to but one small spot of his earth, and had left all the rest in darkness and error--had left countless thousands to perish because this light had been denied to them but given exclusively to that one small spot of earth, that small section of his people.

In the distance, I saw a small group of kind and honest men in Spain. Their hearts were pure, and they genuinely believed they alone possessed the true faith—the only path to salvation and eternal life. They thought God had bestowed this divine light on their tiny corner of the world alone, leaving the rest in darkness and error. In their minds, countless thousands were doomed to perish simply because this light was denied to them, reserved exclusively for their small community.

I thought that these good and pure men were so sorry for those who, they thought, were in the darkness and error of a false religion, that they set forth and crossed that unknown ocean to that strange far-away land to carry with them their system of religion, and to give it to those poor simple people whose lives had been so good and gentle and spiritual under their own faith, their own beliefs.

I believed these well-intentioned and virtuous individuals felt such compassion for those they perceived to be living in ignorance and falsehood that they embarked on a journey across uncharted seas to a distant, unfamiliar land. Their goal was to introduce their own religious system to those seemingly naive people, whose lives had been so admirable and spiritually rich under their own faith and traditions.

I saw these good but ignorant priests land on this strange shore and beheld them working everywhere amongst the natives, spreading their own belief and crushing out and destroying all traces of a primitive faith as worthy of respect as their own. These priests were kind good men who sought to alleviate the physical lot of the poor oppressed natives even while they labored for their spiritual welfare also, and on every side there sprang up missions, churches and schools.

I witnessed these well-intentioned but naive priests arrive on this unfamiliar coast. They worked tirelessly among the locals, spreading their own religion while eradicating all signs of the indigenous faith—one just as deserving of respect as their own. These priests were compassionate individuals who aimed to improve the physical conditions of the oppressed natives, even as they strove for their spiritual well-being. As a result, missions, churches, and schools sprouted up everywhere.

Then I beheld great numbers of men, priests as well as many others, come over from Spain, eager, not for the good of the church nor to spread the truths of their religion, but only greedy for the gold of this new land, and for all that could minister to their own gratification; men whose lives had disgraced them in their own country till they were obliged to fly to this strange one to escape the consequences of their misdeeds. I saw these men arrive in hordes and mingle with those whose motives were pure and good, till they had outnumbered them, and then thrust the good aside everywhere, and made of themselves tyrannical masters over the unhappy natives, in the name of the Holy Church of Christ.

I witnessed a flood of men, both clergy and laypeople, arriving from Spain. They weren't driven by a desire to serve the church or spread their faith, but by an insatiable greed for the new land's gold and personal gain. These were men whose scandalous behavior had forced them to flee their homeland to escape punishment. They arrived in droves, mixing with those who had pure intentions until they outnumbered them. Then, they pushed aside the well-meaning individuals and established themselves as cruel overlords of the unfortunate natives, all while claiming to act in the name of the Holy Church of Christ.

And then I saw the Inquisition brought to the unhappy land and established as the last link in the chain of slavery and oppression thus riveted round this unhappy people, till it swept almost all of them from the face of the earth; and everywhere I beheld the wild thirst, the greed for gold that consumed as with a fire of hell all who sought that land. Blind were most of them to all its beauties but its gold, deaf to all thought but how they might enrich themselves with it; and in the madness of that time and that awful craving for wealth was this city of Hell, this spiritual counterpart of the earthly city built, stone upon stone, particle by particle, forming between itself and the city of earth chains of attraction which should draw down one by one each of its wicked inhabitants, for truly the earthly lives are building for each man and woman their spiritual habitations. Thus all these monks and priests, all these fine ladies, all these soldiers and merchants, yea, and even these unhappy natives had been drawn down to Hell by the deeds of their earthly lives, by the passions and hatreds, the greed of gold, the bitter sense of wrongs unrequited and the thirst for revenge which those deeds had created.

I witnessed the Inquisition descend upon this unfortunate land, becoming the final shackle in the chain of slavery and oppression that bound its people. This tyranny nearly wiped them from existence. Everywhere, I saw an insatiable hunger for gold, a hellish greed consuming all who sought this land. Most were blind to its beauty, fixated solely on wealth. In this time of madness and avarice, a spiritual counterpart to the earthly city was built in Hell, stone by stone, forging links of attraction to draw down its wicked inhabitants one by one. Indeed, our earthly lives construct our spiritual dwellings. Thus, monks and priests, fine ladies, soldiers and merchants, and even the oppressed natives were pulled into Hell by their earthly deeds, passions, and hatreds. Their greed for gold, their bitterness over unresolved wrongs, and their thirst for vengeance sealed their fates.

At the door of a large square building, whose small grated windows looked like a prison, I stopped, arrested by the cries and shouts which came from it; then guided by the mysterious voice of my unseen guide I entered, and following the sounds soon came to a dungeon cell. Here I found a great number of spirits surrounding a man who was chained to the wall by an iron girdle round his waist. His wild glaring eyes, disheveled hair and tattered clothing suggested that he had been there for many years, while the hollow sunken cheeks and the bones sticking through his skin told that he was to all appearance dying of starvation; yet I knew that here there was no death, no such relief from suffering. Near him stood another man with folded arms and bowed head, whose wasted features and skeleton form scarred with many wounds made him an even more pitiable object than the other, though he was free while the other was chained to the wall. Around them both danced and yelled other spirits, all wild and savage and degraded. Some of them were Indians, a few Spanish, and one or two looked, I thought, like Englishmen. All were at the same work--throwing sharp knives at the chained man that never seemed to hit him, shaking their fists in his face, cursing and reviling him, yet, strange to say, never able to actually touch him, and all the time there he stood chained to the wall, unable to move or get away from them. And there stood the other man silently watching him.

At the entrance of a large, prison-like building with small barred windows, I paused, struck by the cries and shouts coming from inside. Guided by an unseen voice, I entered and followed the sounds to a dungeon cell. Inside, I found numerous spirits surrounding a man chained to the wall by an iron belt. His wild eyes, messy hair, and tattered clothes suggested he'd been there for years. His sunken cheeks and protruding bones indicated starvation, though I knew death offered no escape from suffering here. Nearby stood another man, arms folded and head bowed. His scarred, skeletal form made him even more pitiful than the chained man, despite being free. Around them, other spirits - wild, savage, and degraded - danced and yelled. Some were Native American, a few Spanish, and one or two seemed English. They all engaged in the same activity: throwing sharp knives at the chained man without hitting him, shaking fists in his face, and hurling curses. Strangely, they couldn't touch him, while he remained bound and helpless. All the while, the other man silently observed the scene.

As I stood looking at this scene I became conscious of the past history of those two men. I saw the one who was chained to the wall in a handsome house like a palace, and knew he had been one of the judges sent out from Spain to preside over the so-called courts of justice, which had but proved additional means for extorting money from the natives and oppressing all who sought to interfere with the rich and powerful. I saw the other man who had been a merchant, living in a pretty villa with a beautiful, a very beautiful, wife and one little child. This woman had attracted the notice of the judge, who conceived an unholy passion for her, and on her persistently repulsing all his advances he made an excuse to have the husband arrested on suspicion by the Inquisition and thrown into prison. Then he carried off the poor wife and so insulted her that she died, and the poor little child was strangled by order of the cruel judge.

As I observed the scene, the past of these two men unfolded before me. The man chained to the wall had once been a Spanish judge, living in an opulent mansion. He was sent to preside over courts that were merely fronts for extorting money from locals and silencing those who challenged the wealthy and influential. The other man had been a merchant, residing in a charming villa with his strikingly beautiful wife and young child. The judge, consumed by lust for the merchant's wife, persistently pursued her. When she continually rejected his advances, he fabricated charges to have the husband arrested by the Inquisition. The judge then abducted the wife, subjecting her to such degradation that she perished. To compound his cruelty, he ordered the innocent child strangled.

Meantime the unfortunate husband lay in prison, ignorant of the fate of his wife and child and of the charge under which he had been arrested, growing more and more exhausted from the scanty food and the horrors of the dungeon, and more and more desperate from the suspense. At last he was brought before the council of the Inquisition, charged with heretical practices and conspiracy against the crown, and on denial of these charges was tortured to make him confess and give up the names of certain of his friends who were accused of being his accomplices. As the poor man, bewildered and indignant, still protested his innocence he was sent back to his dungeon and there slowly starved to death, the cruel judge not daring to set him at liberty, well knowing that he would make the city ring with the story of his wrongs and his wife's fate when he should learn it.

Meanwhile, the unfortunate husband languished in prison, unaware of his wife and child's fate or the charges against him. His health deteriorated from meager rations and the dungeon's squalid conditions, while suspense drove him to despair. Eventually, he faced the Inquisition council, accused of heresy and conspiracy against the crown. Despite denying these charges, he was tortured to extract a confession and implicate his alleged accomplices. As the confused and outraged man continued to maintain his innocence, he was returned to his cell and slowly starved to death. The cruel judge, fearing the man would expose the injustice done to him and his wife if released, dared not set him free.

As so this poor man had died, but he did not join his wife, who, poor injured soul, had passed at once with her little innocent child into the higher spheres. She was so good and pure and gentle that she had even forgiven her murderer--for such he was, though he had not intended to kill her--and between her and the husband she so dearly loved there was a wall created by his bitter revengeful feelings against the man who had destroyed them both.

The unfortunate man had passed away, but he wasn't reunited with his wife. She, a victim of injustice, had immediately ascended to a higher plane with their innocent child. Her inherent goodness, purity, and gentle nature had led her to forgive her killer—for that's what he was, despite lacking the intent to end her life. However, a barrier now existed between her and her beloved husband, created by his intense bitterness and desire for revenge against the man who had effectively destroyed them both.

When this poor wronged husband died, his soul could not leave the earth. It was tied there by his hatred of his enemy and his thirst for revenge. His own wrongs he might have forgiven, but the fate of his wife and child had been too dreadful. He could not forgive that. Before even his love for his wife came this hate, and day and night his spirit clung fast to the judge, seeking for the chance of vengeance; and at last it came. Devils from Hell--such as had once tempted me--clustered round the wronged spirit and taught it how through the hand of a mortal it could strike the assassin's dagger to the judge's heart, and then when death severed the body and the spirit he could drag that down with him to Hell. So terrible had been this craving for revenge, nursed through the waiting years of solitude in prison and in the spirit land, that the poor wife had tried and tried in vain to draw near her husband and soften his heart with better thoughts. Her gentle soul was shut out by the wall of evil drawn round the unhappy man, and he also had no hope of ever seeing her again. He deemed that she had gone to Heaven and was lost to him for evermore. A Roman Catholic of the narrow views held nearly two hundred years ago when this man had lived, he believed that being under the ban of its priests and denied the ministrations of the church when he died, was the reason he was one of the eternally lost, while his wife and child must be with the angels of Heaven. Is it wonderful, then, that all this poor spirit's thoughts should center in the desire for vengeance, and that he should plan only how to make his enemy suffer as he had been made to suffer? Thus, then, it was he who inspired a man on earth to kill the judge; his hand guided the mortal's with so unerring an aim that the judge fell pierced to his false, cruel heart. The earthly body died but the immortal soul lived, and awakened to find itself in Hell, chained to a dungeon wall as he had chained his victim, and face to face with him at last.

When the wronged husband died, his soul remained earthbound, tethered by hatred and a thirst for revenge. While he might have forgiven his own mistreatment, the tragic fate of his wife and child was unforgivable. This hatred surpassed even his love for his wife, and his spirit relentlessly pursued the judge, seeking vengeance. Eventually, the opportunity arose. Demonic forces surrounded the wronged spirit, teaching him how to use a mortal's hand to plunge a dagger into the judge's heart. Upon the judge's death, the husband could then drag his soul down to Hell. This desire for revenge, nurtured through years of isolation in prison and the spirit realm, had grown so intense that his wife's gentle soul couldn't penetrate the wall of evil surrounding him. The man had no hope of seeing her again, believing she had ascended to Heaven, forever beyond his reach. As a Roman Catholic from nearly two centuries ago, he thought that dying under the church's ban and without its final rites had condemned him to eternal damnation, while his wife and child were surely among the angels. Is it any wonder, then, that this poor spirit focused solely on vengeance, plotting only to make his enemy suffer as he had? Thus, he inspired a living person to kill the judge, guiding the mortal's hand with deadly precision. The judge's earthly body perished, but his immortal soul awakened in Hell, chained to a dungeon wall just as he had once imprisoned his victim, finally face to face with his nemesis.

There were others whom the judge had wronged and sent to a death of suffering to gratify his anger or to enrich himself at their expense, and these all gathered round him and made his awakening a Hell indeed. Yet such was the indomitable strength of will of this man that none of the blows aimed at him could touch him, none of the missiles strike, and thus through all the years had those two deadly enemies faced each other, pouring out their hatred and defiance while those other spirits, like the chorus of a Greek tragedy, came and went and amused themselves devising fresh means to torment the chained man whose strong will kept them at bay.

Others wronged by the judge, sent to painful deaths to satisfy his rage or line his pockets, surrounded him, turning his awakening into a living hell. Yet the judge's iron will proved impenetrable; no blow could touch him, no projectile strike. For years, these two mortal enemies faced off, spewing hatred and defiance. Meanwhile, other spirits, like a Greek chorus, came and went, devising new ways to torment the chained man whose strength kept them at bay.

And away in the bright spheres mourned the poor wife, striving and hoping till the time should come when her influence would be felt even in this awful place, when her love and her unceasing prayers should reach the soul of her husband and soften it, that he might relent in his bitter purpose and turn from his revenge. It was her prayers which had drawn me to this dungeon, and it was her soul which spoke to mine, telling me all the sad cruel story, and pleading with me to carry to her unhappy husband the knowledge that she lived only in thoughts of him, only in the hope that he would be drawn by her love to the upper spheres to join her in peace and happiness at last. With this vision strong upon me, I drew near the sullen man who was growing tired of his revenge, and whose heart was full of longing for the wife he loved so passionately.

In the celestial realms, the devoted wife grieved, persevering and hopeful for the day her influence would reach this dreadful place. She believed her love and ceaseless prayers would touch her husband's soul, softening his heart and dissuading him from his vengeful path. Her prayers had led me to this prison, and her spirit communicated with mine, revealing the tragic tale and imploring me to tell her miserable husband that she lived only with thoughts of him. She hoped her love would guide him to the higher spheres, where they could reunite in eternal peace and joy. With this vision driving me, I approached the brooding man, whose thirst for revenge was waning, and whose heart now ached with longing for the wife he so passionately adored.

I touched him upon the shoulder and said: "Friend, I know why you are here, and all the cruel story of your wrongs, and I am sent from her you love to tell you that in the bright land above she awaits you, wearying that you do not come and marveling that you can find revenge more sweet than her caresses. She bids me tell you that you chain yourself here when you might be free."

I tapped his shoulder and said, "Listen, I know why you're here. I know the painful story of how you were wronged. I'm here as a messenger from the woman you love. She's waiting for you in heaven, wondering why you haven't come and puzzled that you find revenge more appealing than her affection. She wants you to know that you're keeping yourself trapped here when you could be free."

The spirit started as I spoke, then turning to me grasped my arm and gazed long and ernestly into my face as though to read there whether I spoke truly or falsely. Then he sighed as he drew back, saying: "Who are you and why do you come here? You are like none of those who belong to this awful place, and your words are words of hope, yet how can there be hope for the soul in Hell?"

The apparition jolted as I spoke, then turned to me, clutching my arm. It stared intently into my face, as if trying to determine whether I was telling the truth. Sighing as it retreated, it asked, "Who are you, and why have you come here? You're unlike anyone else in this dreadful place, and your words offer hope. But how can there be hope for a soul in Hell?"

"There is hope even here; for hope is eternal and God in his mercy shuts none out from it, whatever man in his earth-distorted image of the divine teachings may do. I am sent to give hope to you and to others who are, like you, in sorrow for the past, and if you will but come with me, I can show you how to reach the Better Land."

"There is hope even in this place. Hope is eternal, and God, in His mercy, excludes no one from it, regardless of how people may distort divine teachings. I'm here to offer hope to you and others who, like you, regret their past. If you'll come with me, I can show you the path to a better place."

I saw that he hesitated, and a bitter struggle went on in his heart, for he knew that it was his presence which kept his enemy a prisoner, that were he to go the other would be free to wander through this Dark Land, and even yet he could hardly let him go. Then I spoke again of his wife; his child; would he not rather go to them? The strong passionate man broke down as he thought of those loved ones, and burying his face in his hands wept bitter tears. I put my arm through his and led him, unresisting, out of the prison and out of the city. Here we found kind spirit friends were awaiting the poor man, and with them I left him that they might bear him to a bright land where he would see his wife from time to time, till he worked himself up to the level of her sphere, where they would be united forever in a happiness more perfect than could ever have been their lot on earth.

I observed his hesitation, a fierce internal conflict evident as he realized his presence was the sole factor keeping his foe confined. If he left, the other would be free to roam this gloomy realm, and he struggled to accept that possibility. I mentioned his wife and child again, asking if he wouldn't prefer to be with them. The tough, emotional man crumbled at the thought of his loved ones, covering his face as he wept. I gently guided him, now unresisting, out of the prison and the city. Outside, compassionate spirits waited to assist him. I left him in their care, knowing they would transport him to a brighter place where he could periodically see his wife until he elevated himself to her level. There, they would be reunited forever in a bliss surpassing anything they could have experienced on Earth.

I did not return to the city, for I felt my work there was done, and so wandered on in search of fresh fields of usefulness. In the middle of a dark lonely plain I came upon a solitary hut, in which I found a man lying on some wisps of dirty straw, unable to move and to all appearance dying.

I didn't go back to the city, feeling my work there was finished. Instead, I roamed around looking for new ways to be useful. In the middle of a desolate plain, I stumbled upon an isolated hut. Inside, I found a man lying on some dirty straw, immobile and seemingly on the brink of death.

He told me that in his earth life he had thus abandoned and left to die a sick comrade, whom he had robbed of the gold for which they had both risked their lives, and that now he also was dead he found himself lying in the same helpless deserted way.

He confessed that during his life on Earth, he had abandoned and left a sick companion to die after stealing the gold they had both risked their lives to obtain. Now that he too was dead, he found himself in the same helpless and deserted state as his former comrade.

I asked him if he would not wish to get up and go and do something to help others and thus atone for the murder of his friend, because if so I thought I could help him.

I asked if he wanted to get up and do something to help others, as a way to make amends for his friend's murder. I told him I could assist if he was interested.

He thought he would like to get up certainly. He was sick of this hole, but he did not see why he should work at anything or bother about other people. He would rather look for the money he had buried, and spend that. Here his cunning eyes glanced furtively at me to see what I thought of his money and if I was likely to try to find it.

He definitely wanted to get up. He was tired of this place, but didn't see any reason to work or concern himself with others. He'd prefer to search for the money he'd hidden and use that instead. As he said this, his shrewd eyes darted towards me, trying to gauge my reaction about his money and whether I might try to find it myself.

I suggested to him that he ought rather to think of trying to find the friend he had murdered and make reparation to him. But he wouldn't hear of that, and got quite angry, said he was not sorry he had killed his friend, and only sorry he was here. He thought I would have helped him to get away. I tried to talk to this man and make him see how he really might better his position and undo the wrong he had done, but it was no use, his only idea was that once given the use of his limbs again he could go and rob or kill some one else. So at last I left him where he lay, and as I went out his feeble hand picked up a stone and flung it after me.

I suggested he should focus on finding the friend he had murdered and make amends. He rejected this idea angrily, stating he didn't regret the killing, only being here. He assumed I would help him escape. I attempted to convince him that he could improve his situation and rectify his wrongs, but it was futile. His sole intent was to rob or murder again once he regained mobility. Finally, I gave up and left. As I walked away, he weakly threw a stone at me.

"What," I asked mentally, "will become of this man?"

"What will happen to this guy?" I wondered to myself.

I was answered: "He has just come from earth after dying a violent death, and his spirit is weak, but ere long he will grow strong, and then he will go forth and join other marauders like himself who go about in bands, and add another horror to this place. After the lapse of many years--it may even be centuries--the desire for better things will awake, and he will begin to progress, but very slowly, for the soul which has been in chains so long and is so poorly developed, so degraded as in this man, often takes cycles of time to develop its dormant powers."

The response came: "He's recently arrived from Earth after a violent death. His spirit is weak now, but he'll soon grow stronger. Then he'll join other marauders like himself who roam in groups, adding another terror to this place. After many years—perhaps even centuries—he'll start to desire better things and begin to progress. However, this progress will be very slow. A soul that's been chained for so long, as poorly developed and degraded as this man's, often takes eons to awaken its dormant powers."

After I had wandered for some time over this dreary desolate plain I felt so tired, weary of heart, that I sat down, and began musing upon what I had seen in this awful sphere. The sight of so much evil and suffering had depressed me, the awful darkness and heavy murky clouds oppressed my soul that ever had loved the sunshine and the light as I fancy only we of the Southern nations love it. And then I wearied. Ah! how I wearied and longed for news from her whom I had left on earth. No word had reached me as yet from my friends--no news of my beloved. I knew not how long I had been in this place where there was no day to mark the time, nothing but eternal night that brooded and reigned in silence over everything. My thoughts were full of my beloved, and I prayed earnestly, that she might be kept safe on earth to gladden my eyes when the time of probation in this place should be over. While I prayed I became conscious of a soft pale light suffused around me, as from a glowing star, that grew and grew till it expanded and opened out into a most glorious picture framed in rays of light, and in the centre I saw my darling, her eyes looking into mine and smiling at me, her sweet lips parted as though speaking my name; then she seemed to raise her hand and touching her lips with her finger tips, threw me a kiss. So shyly, so prettily, was it done that I was in raptures, and rose to return her that kiss, to look more closely at her, and lo! the vision had vanished and I was alone on the dark plain once more. But no longer sad, that bright vision had cheered me, and given me hope and courage to go on once more and bring to others such hope as cheered myself.

After wandering for some time over this bleak, desolate plain, I felt so tired and disheartened that I sat down and began reflecting on what I had seen in this dreadful place. The sight of so much evil and suffering had depressed me, and the terrible darkness and heavy, gloomy clouds weighed on my soul, which had always loved sunshine and light as only those from Southern nations can truly appreciate. I grew weary and longed for news from the one I had left on earth. No word had reached me from my friends, no news of my beloved. I didn't know how long I had been in this timeless place of eternal night, which silently enveloped everything. My thoughts were filled with my beloved, and I prayed earnestly that she might be kept safe on earth to gladden my eyes when my time in this place was over. As I prayed, I became aware of a soft, pale light surrounding me, like a glowing star. It grew and expanded into a glorious picture framed in rays of light. In the center, I saw my darling, her eyes meeting mine and smiling, her sweet lips parted as if speaking my name. She seemed to raise her hand and, touching her lips with her fingertips, blew me a kiss. It was done so shyly and prettily that I was ecstatic. I rose to return her kiss and look more closely, but the vision vanished, leaving me alone on the dark plain once more. No longer sad, that bright vision had cheered me and given me hope and courage to continue on, aiming to bring such hope to others as had comforted me.

I arose and went on again, and in a short time was overtaken by a number of dark and most repulsive-looking spirits; they wore ragged black cloaks and seemed to have their faces concealed by black masks like spectral highwaymen. They did not see me, and I had found that as a rule the dwellers of this sphere were too low in intelligence and spiritual sight to be able to see anyone from the spheres above unless brought into direct contact with them. Curious to see what they were about, I drew back and followed them at a little distance. Presently another party of dark spirits approached, carrying what looked like bags with some sort of treasure. Immediately they were attacked by the first-comers. They had no weapons in their hands, but they fought like wild beasts with teeth and claws, their finger nails being like the claws of a wild animal or a vulture. They fastened upon each other's throats and tore them. They scratched and bit like tigers or wolves, till one-half at least were left lying helpless upon the ground, while the rest rushed off with the treasure (which to me seemed only lumps of hard stone).

I got up and continued on my way. Soon, I was passed by a group of dark, menacing spirits. They wore tattered black cloaks and seemed to hide their faces behind black masks, like ghostly highwaymen. They didn't notice me, and I had learned that inhabitants of this realm generally lacked the intelligence and spiritual sight to perceive beings from higher spheres unless directly interacting with them. Intrigued by their actions, I hung back and followed them at a distance. Soon, another group of dark spirits approached, carrying what appeared to be bags of treasure. The first group immediately attacked them. Though unarmed, they fought like wild animals, using teeth and claws. Their fingernails resembled those of a beast or vulture. They lunged for each other's throats, tearing and ripping. They clawed and bit like tigers or wolves until at least half of them lay helpless on the ground. The rest fled with the treasure, which to me looked like nothing more than chunks of hard stone.

When all who were able to move had gone, I drew near the poor spirits lying moaning on the ground to see if I could help any of them. But it seemed to be no use doing so; they only tried to turn upon me and tear me in pieces. They were more like savage beasts than men, even their bodies were bent like a beast's, the arms long like an ape's, the hands hard, and the fingers and nails like claws, and they half walked and half crawled on all-fours. The faces could scarcely be called human; the very features had become bestial, while they lay snarling and showing their teeth like wolves. I thought of the strange wild tales I had read of men changing into animals, and I felt I could almost have believed these were such creatures. In their horrible glaring eyes there was an expression of calculation and cunning which was certainly human, and the motions of their hands were not like those of an animal; moreover they had speech and were mingling their howls and groans with oaths and curses and foul language unknown to animals.

After the able-bodied had left, I approached the suffering souls on the ground, hoping to offer aid. My efforts were futile; they only tried to attack and tear me apart. These beings resembled savage beasts more than humans. Their bodies were hunched, with ape-like arms, calloused hands, and claw-like fingers and nails. They moved on all fours, half-walking, half-crawling. Their faces were barely human, with bestial features. They snarled and bared their teeth like wolves. I recalled strange tales of men transforming into animals, and I could almost believe these creatures were such beings. Their glaring eyes held a human-like cunning and calculation, and their hand movements were distinctly human. Moreover, they could speak, mixing their howls and groans with curses and vulgar language unknown to animals.

"Are there souls even here?" I asked.

"Are there spirits here too?" I asked.

Again came the answer: "Yes, even here. Lost, degraded, dragged down and smothered, till almost all trace is lost, yet even here there are the germs of souls. These men were pirates of the Spanish main, highwaymen, freebooters, slave dealers, and kidnappers of men. They have so brutalized themselves that almost all trace of the human is merged in the wild animal. Their instincts were those of savage beasts; now they live like beasts and fight like them."

Once more, the response came: "Yes, even here. Though they've fallen so far, becoming degraded and corrupted to the point where their humanity is barely visible, the seeds of souls still exist within them. These men were once pirates in the Caribbean, highway robbers, raiders, slave traders, and human traffickers. They've brutalized themselves to such an extent that they've nearly lost all traces of humanity, becoming more like wild animals. Their instincts were those of savage beasts; now they live and fight as such."

"And for them is there still hope, and can anyone help them?" I asked.

"Is there still hope for them? Can anyone help?" I asked.

"Even for these there is hope, though many will not avail themselves of it for ages yet to come. Yet here and there are others who even now can be helped."

There's still hope for these individuals, although many won't take advantage of it for a long time. Nevertheless, some people here and there can be helped even now.

I turned, and at my feet lay a man who had dragged himself to me with great difficulty and was now too exhausted for further effort. He was less horrible to look upon than the others, and in his distorted face there were yet traces of better things. I bent over him and heard his lips murmur: "Water! Water for any sake! Give me water for I am consumed with a living fire."

I spun around and saw a man sprawled at my feet. He had clearly struggled to reach me and now lay there, too drained to move further. His appearance was less shocking than the others, and his twisted face still showed hints of his former self. I leaned in close as he whispered: "Water! Please, water! I'm burning up inside!"

I had no water to give him and knew not where to get any in this land, but I gave him a few drops of the essence I had brought from the Land of Dawn for myself. The effect upon him was like magic. It was an elixir. He sat up and stared at me and said:

I couldn't offer him water, as I had none and didn't know where to find any in this place. Instead, I gave him a few drops of the essence I'd brought from the Land of Dawn for my own use. It worked like magic on him—a true elixir. He suddenly sat up, looked at me intently, and said:

"You must be a magician. That has cooled me and put out the fire that has burned within me for years. I have been filled with a living fire of thirst ever since I came to this Hell."

"You must be a magician. You've calmed me down and extinguished the fire that's been burning inside me for years. I've been consumed by an intense thirst ever since I arrived in this hellish place."

I had now drawn him away from the others, and began to make passes over his body, and as I did so his sufferings ceased and he grew quiet and restful. I was standing by him wondering what to do next, whether to speak or to go away and leave him to himself, when he caught my hand and kissed it passionately.

I'd managed to separate him from the group and started making soothing gestures over his body. As I did this, his pain subsided, and he became calm and relaxed. While I stood there, unsure whether to speak or leave him alone, he suddenly grabbed my hand and kissed it intensely.

"Oh! friend, how am I to thank you? What shall I call you who have come to give me relief after all these years of suffering?"

"Oh, my friend! How can I ever thank you enough? What should I call someone who has finally brought me relief after so many years of pain?"

"If you are thus grateful to me, would you not wish to earn the gratitude of others by helping them? Shall I show you how you could?"

"If you're this grateful to me, wouldn't you want others to feel the same way about you by helping them? Would you like me to show you how?"

"Yes! Oh! yes, most gladly, if only you will take me with you, good friend."

"Absolutely! I'd be thrilled to join you, my friend."

"Well, then, let me help you up, and if you are able we had bettr leave this spot as soon as we can," said I, and together we set forth to see what we could do.

"All right, let me give you a hand. If you're up to it, we should get out of here as soon as possible," I said, and we started off together to assess our options.

My companion told me he had been a pirate and in the slave trade. He had been mate of a ship and was killed in a fight, and had awakened to find himself and others of the crew in this dark place. How long he had been there he had no idea, but it seemed like eternity. He and other spirits like him went about in bands and were always fighting. When they did not meet another party to fight they fought amongst themselves; the thirst for fighting was the only excitement they could get in this horrible place where there was never any drink to be got which could quench the awful burning thirst which consumed them all; what they drank only seemed to make them a thousand times worse, and was like pouring living fire down their throats. Then he said: "You never could die, no matter what you suffered, that was the awful curse of the thing, you had got beyond death, and it was no use trying to kill yourself or get others to kill you, there was no such escape from suffering.

My companion revealed he had been a pirate and slave trader. As a ship's mate, he was killed in a fight and woke up in this dark place with other crew members. He had no idea how long he'd been there, but it felt like an eternity. He and similar spirits roamed in groups, constantly fighting. When they couldn't find other groups to fight, they fought among themselves. The thirst for conflict was their only excitement in this horrible place. They suffered from an unbearable, burning thirst that no drink could quench. Whatever they drank only made it worse, like pouring liquid fire down their throats. He added, "The worst part is that you can't die, no matter how much you suffer. That's the terrible curse of this place. You're beyond death, and there's no escape from the suffering, not even by trying to kill yourself or having others do it for you."

"We are like a lot of hungry wolves," he said, "for want of anyone to attack us we used to fall upon each other and fight till we were exhausted, and then we would lie moaning and suffering till we recovered enough to go forth again and attack someone else. I have been longing for any means of escape. I have almost got to praying for it at last. I felt I would do anything if God would only forgive me and let me have another chance; and when I saw you standing near me I thought perhaps you were an angel sent down to me after all. Only you've got no wings nor anything of that sort, as they paint 'em in pictures. But then pictures don't give you much idea of this place, and if they are wrong about one place why not about the other?"

"We're like a pack of starving wolves," he said. "With no one to attack, we'd turn on each other and fight until we were spent. Then we'd lie there, groaning and hurting until we recovered enough to go out and attack someone else. I've been desperate for any way out. I've almost resorted to praying for it. I felt I'd do anything if God would just forgive me and give me another shot. When I saw you standing nearby, I thought you might be an angel sent for me after all. But you don't have wings or anything like that, as they show in paintings. Then again, artwork doesn't really capture this place, and if they're wrong about one place, why not the other?"

I laughed at him; yes, even in that place of sorrow I laughed, my heart felt so much lightened to find myself of so much use. And then I told him who I was and how I came to be there, and he said if I wanted to help people there were some dismal swamps near where a great many unhappy spirits were imprisoned, and he could take me to them and help a bit himself he thought. He seemed afraid to let me go out of his sight lest I should disappear and leave him alone again. I felt quite attracted to this man because he seemed so very grateful and I was also glad of companionship of any sort (except that of those most repulsive beings who seemed the majority of the dwellers here) for I felt lonely and somewhat desolate in this far-off dismal country.

I laughed at him, even in that gloomy place. My heart felt lighter knowing I could be so helpful. I explained who I was and how I'd ended up there. He told me that if I wanted to help more people, there were nearby swamps where many miserable spirits were trapped. He offered to take me there and lend a hand himself. He seemed scared to let me out of his sight, afraid I might vanish and leave him alone again. I felt drawn to this man because of his gratitude, and I was glad for any companionship. Most of the inhabitants here were repulsive, and I felt lonely and desolate in this dismal, faraway land.

The intense darkness, the horrible atmosphere of thick fog, made it almost impossible to see far in any direction, so that we reached the land of swamps before I was aware of it except for feeling a cold, damp, offensive air which blew in our faces. Then I saw looming before me a great sea of liquid mud, black, fetid and stagnant, a thick slime of oily blackness floating on the top. Here and there monstrous reptiles, with huge inflated bodies and projecting eyes were wallowing. Great bats, with almost human faces like vampires, hovered over it, while black and grey smoke wreaths of noisome vapor rose from its decaying surface, and hung over it in weird fantastic phantom shapes that shifted and changed ever and anon into fresh forms of ugliness--now waving aloft wild arms and shaking, nodding, gibbering heads, which seemed almost endowed with sense and speech--then melting into mist again to form into some new creature of repulsive horror.

The intense darkness and thick fog made it nearly impossible to see far in any direction. We reached the swamplands before I realized it, alerted only by the cold, damp, foul air blowing in our faces. Suddenly, a vast expanse of liquid mud loomed before me—black, fetid, and stagnant, with a thick, oily slime floating on top. Monstrous reptiles with bloated bodies and bulging eyes wallowed in the muck, while bat-like creatures with eerily human faces hovered overhead. Black and grey plumes of noxious vapor rose from the decaying surface, forming weird, shifting shapes. These ghostly apparitions morphed constantly, at times waving wild arms and nodding, gibbering heads that seemed almost sentient, before dissolving into mist and reforming as new, repulsive horrors.

On the shores of this great foul sea were innumerable crawling slimy creatures of hideous shape and gigantic size that lay sprawling on their backs or plunged into that horrid sea. I shuddered as I looked upon it and was about to ask if there could indeed be lost souls struggling in that filthy slime, when my ears heard a chorus of wailing cries and calls for help coming from the darkness before me, that touched my heart with their mournful hopelessness, and my eyes, growing more accustomed to the mist, distinguished here and there struggling human forms wading up to their armpits in the mud. I called to them and told them to try and walk towards me, for I was on the shore, but they either could not see or could not hear me for they took no notice, and my companion said he believed they were both deaf and blind to everything but their immediate surroundings. He had been in the sea of foul mud himself for a time, but had managed to struggle out, though he had understood that most were unable to do so without help from another, and that some went on stumbling about in it for years. Again we heard those pitiful cries, and one sounded so near us that I thought of plunging in myself and trying to drag the wretched spirit out, but faugh! it was too horrible, too disgusting. I recoiled in horror at the thought. And then again that despairing cry smote upon my ears and made me feel I must venture it. So in I went, trying my best to stifle my sense of disgust, and, guided by the cries, soon reached the man, the great phantoms of the mist wavering and swooping and rushing overhead as I did so. He was up to his neck in the mud and seemed sinking lower when I found him, and it seemed impossible for me alone to draw him out, so I called to the pirate spirit to come and help me, but he was nowhere to be seen. Thinking he had only led me into a trap and deserted me, I was about to turn and struggle out again, when the unfortunate spirit besought me so pitifully not to abandon him that I made another great effort and succeeded in dragging him a few yards and drawing his feet out of a trap of weeds at the bottom in which they appeared to be caught. Then, somehow, I half dragged, half supported him till we reached the shore where the unfortunate spirit sank down in unconsciousness. I was a good deal exhausted also and sat down beside him to rest. I looked round for my pirate friend, and beheld him wallowing about in the sea at some distance and evidently bringing out someone along with him. Even in the midst of my awful surroundings I could not help feeling a certain sense of amusement in looking at him, he made such frantic and exaggerated efforts to haul along the unlucky spirit, and was so shouting and going on that it was calculated to alarm anyone who was timid, and I did not wonder to hear the poor spirit almost imploring not to be so energetic, to take it a little slower, and to give him time to follow. I went over to them, and the poor rescued one being now near the shore I helped to get him out and to let him rest beside the other one.

On the shores of this vast, foul sea lay countless slimy creatures of hideous shape and enormous size, sprawled on their backs or plunging into the horrid waters. I shuddered at the sight, wondering if lost souls could be struggling in that filthy slime. Suddenly, my ears caught a chorus of wailing cries and pleas for help from the darkness ahead, their mournful hopelessness touching my heart. As my eyes adjusted to the mist, I saw human forms wading waist-deep in the mud. I called out, urging them to walk towards me on the shore, but they seemed oblivious. My companion explained that they were likely deaf and blind to everything but their immediate surroundings. He had once been trapped in the sea of foul mud himself but managed to escape, though he believed most were unable to do so without help. Some, he said, stumbled about for years. Again, we heard those pitiful cries, one so near that I considered plunging in to rescue the wretched spirit. But the thought was too horrifying, too disgusting. I recoiled in horror. Yet, when that despairing cry reached my ears once more, I felt compelled to act. Stifling my disgust, I waded in, guided by the cries. Phantoms of mist swirled overhead as I reached a man neck-deep in mud and sinking lower. Unable to pull him out alone, I called for the pirate spirit's help, but he had vanished. Fearing a trap, I almost turned back, but the spirit's desperate pleas moved me to make another attempt. I managed to drag him a few yards, freeing his feet from weeds at the bottom. Half-dragging, half-supporting him, we finally reached the shore, where he collapsed unconscious. Exhausted, I sat beside him and looked for my pirate friend. I spotted him thrashing about in the sea, apparently rescuing someone else. Despite the grim surroundings, I found his frantic efforts and shouting somewhat amusing. The spirit he was rescuing seemed to plead for a gentler approach. I went to help, and together we brought the second rescued soul to shore to rest beside the first.

The pirate spirit seemed greatly delighted with his successful efforts and very proud of himself, and was quite ready to set off again, so I sent him after someone else whom we heard calling, and was attending to the other two when I again heard most pitiful wailings not far from me, though I could see no one at first, then a faint, tiny speck of light like a will-o'-the-wisp glimmered in the darkness of that disgusting swamp, and by its light I saw someone moving about and calling for aid, so, not very willingly, I confess, I went into the mud again. When I reached the man I found he had a woman with him whom he was supporting and trying to encourage, and with considerable trouble I got them both out and found the pirate spirit had also arrived with his rescued one.

The pirate spirit was thrilled with his successful efforts and quite proud of himself. Eager to continue, I sent him after another person we heard calling. As I tended to the other two, I heard more pitiful wails nearby. At first, I saw nothing, but then a faint, tiny speck of light - like a will-o'-the-wisp - glimmered in the darkness of that repulsive swamp. By its light, I spotted someone moving about and calling for help. Reluctantly, I waded into the mud again. Upon reaching the man, I discovered he was supporting a woman and trying to encourage her. With considerable effort, I managed to extract them both. When we emerged, I found the pirate spirit had also returned with his rescued individual.

Truly a strange group we must have made on the shores of that slimy sea, which I learned afterwards was the spiritual creation of all the disgusting thoughts, all the impure desires of the lives of men on earth, attracted and collected into this great swamp of foulness. Those spirits who were thus wallowing in it had reveled in such low abominations in their earth lives and had continued to enjoy such pleasures after death through the mediumship of mortal men and women, till at last even the earth plane had become too high for them by reason of their own exceeding vileness, and they had been drawn down by the force of attraction into this horrible sink of corruption to wander in it till the very disgust of themselves should work a cure.

We must have been a peculiar sight on the shores of that repulsive sea. I later discovered it was a spiritual manifestation of humanity's most vile thoughts and impure desires, drawn together into this vast, putrid swamp. The spirits wallowing there had indulged in such depravity during their earthly lives and continued to seek these pleasures after death through mortal mediums. Eventually, even the earthly plane became too elevated for them due to their extreme wickedness. The force of attraction pulled them down into this revolting cesspool, where they were destined to wander until the sheer disgust with themselves might finally spark a transformation.

One man I had rescued had been one of the celebrated wits of Charles the Second's court, and after his death had long haunted the earth plane, sinking, however, lower and lower till he had sunk into this sea at last, the weeds of his pride and arrogance forming chains in which his feet were so entangled that he could not move till I released him. Another man had been a celebrated dramatist of the reign of the early Georges. While the man and woman had belonged to the court of Louis the Fifteenth and had been drawn together to this place. Those rescued by the pirate were somewhat similar in their histories.

One of the men I saved had been a famous wit at King Charles II's court. After death, he'd lingered as a ghost, gradually sinking lower until he ended up in this sea. His pride and arrogance had grown like weeds, chaining his feet until I freed him. Another man had been a renowned playwright during the early Georgian era. The man and woman I rescued had been part of Louis XV's court and had somehow found their way here together. Those saved by the pirate had similar backstories.

I had been somewhat troubled at first as to how I was going to free myself from the mud of that horrible sea, but I now suddenly saw a small clear fountain of pure water spring up near to us as if by magic, and in its fresh stream we soon washed all traces of the mud away.

At first, I was worried about how to clean off the mud from that dreadful sea. But then, as if by magic, a small, clear spring of pure water appeared nearby. We quickly washed away all traces of mud in its fresh stream.

I now advised those whom we had rescued to try what they could do to help others in this land of darkness as a return for the help given to themselves, and having given them what advice and help I could I started once more upon my pilgrimage. The pirate, however, seemed so very unwilling to part from me that we two set forth together once more.

I suggested that those we had saved should try to help others in this dark realm as a way of repaying the assistance they had received. After offering them some final advice and support, I resumed my journey. The pirate, however, seemed reluctant to leave my side, so we decided to continue our travels together.

I shall not attempt to describe all whom we sought to help in our wanderings. Were I to do so this narrative would fill volumes and probably only weary my readers, so I shall pass over what seemed to me like weeks of earthly time, as nearly as I am able to reckon it, and will describe our arrival at a vast range of mountains whose bleak summits towered into the night sky overhead. We were both somewhat discouraged with the results of our efforts to help people. Here and there we had found a few who were willing to listen and to be helped, but as a rule our attempts had been met with scorn and derision, while not a few had even attacked us for interfering with them, and we had some trouble to save ourselves from injury.

I won't describe every person we tried to help during our travels. Doing so would make this story incredibly long and possibly boring. Instead, I'll skip ahead to what felt like weeks later, when we arrived at a vast mountain range with bleak peaks towering into the night sky. By this point, we were both feeling somewhat discouraged with our efforts to help people. We had found a few individuals willing to listen and accept our assistance, but most of the time, our attempts were met with scorn and mockery. Some even attacked us for interfering, forcing us to defend ourselves from harm.

Our last attempt had been with a man and woman of most repulsive appearance who were fighting at the door of a wretched hovel. The man was beating her so terribly I could not but interfere to stop him. Whereupon they both set on me at once, the woman spirit doing her best to scratch my eyes out, and I was glad to have the pirate come to my assistance, for, truth to tell, the combined attack had made me lose my temper, and by doing so I put myself for the moment on their level, and so was deprived of the protection afforded me by my superior spiritual development.

Our previous try involved a repulsive-looking couple brawling outside a rundown shack. The man was beating the woman so severely that I felt compelled to step in. Suddenly, they both turned on me. The woman tried to claw my eyes out, and I was relieved when the pirate came to help. To be honest, their joint assault made me lose my cool. By letting my anger get the better of me, I momentarily stooped to their level, losing the protection my higher spiritual growth usually provides.

These two had been guilty of a most cruel and brutal murder of an old man (the husband of the woman) for the sake of his money; and they had been hanged for the crime, their mutual guilt forming a bond between them so strong that they had been drawn down together and were unable to separate in spite of the bitter hatred they now felt for each other. Each felt the other to be the cause of their being in this place, and each felt the other more guilty than themselves, and it had been their eagerness each to betray the other which had helped to hang both. Now they seemed simply to exist in order to fight together, and I can fancy no punishment more awful than theirs must have been, thus linked together in hate.

The couple had committed a heinous crime, brutally murdering the woman's elderly husband for his money. They were executed for this act, their shared guilt creating an unbreakable bond between them. Even in death, they couldn't separate, despite now loathing each other intensely. Each blamed the other for their current situation, believing their partner to be more culpable. Their mutual attempts to betray one another had ultimately led to both being hanged. Now, their sole purpose seemed to be fighting each other endlessly. It's hard to imagine a more terrible punishment than being eternally linked to someone you despise.

In their present state of mind it was not possible to help them in any way.

Given their current mindset, there was no way to assist them.

Shortly after leaving this interesting couple we found ourselves at the foot of the great dark mountains, and by the aid of a curious pale phosphorescent glow which hung in patches over them we were able to explore them a little. There were no regular pathways, and the rocks were very steep, so we stumbled up as best we might--for I should explain that by taking on a certain proportion of the conditions of this low sphere I had lost the power to rise at will and float, which was a privilege of those who had reached the Land of Dawn. After a toilsome ascent of one of the lower ranges of the mountains we began to tramp along the crest of one, faintly lighted by the strange gleaming patches of phosphorescent light, and beheld on either side of us vast deep chasms in the rocks, gloomy precipices, and awful looking black pits. From some of these came wailing cries and moans and occasionally prayers for help. I was much shocked to think there were spirits down in such depths of misery, and felt quite at a loss how to help them, when my companion, who had shown a most remarkable eagerness to second all my efforts to rescue people, suggested that we should make a rope from some of the great rank, withered-looking weeds and grass that grew in small crevices of these otherwise barren rocks, and with such a rope I could lower him down, as he was more used to climbing in that fashion than I, and thus we might be able to draw up some of these spirits out of their dreadful position.

Shortly after leaving the intriguing couple, we encountered the base of the imposing dark mountains. A strange, pale phosphorescent glow hung in patches over them, allowing us to explore a bit. With no clear paths and steep terrain, we struggled upwards. I should note that by adapting to this lower sphere's conditions, I'd lost my ability to float at will—a privilege enjoyed by those in the Land of Dawn. After a grueling climb up one of the lower ranges, we trudged along a mountain crest, dimly lit by the eerie phosphorescent patches. On both sides, we saw vast chasms, gloomy cliffs, and terrifying black pits. Wailing cries, moans, and occasional pleas for help echoed from some of these depths. Shocked by the spirits' misery in such depths, I felt helpless. My companion, who'd been remarkably eager to assist in rescue efforts, suggested we fashion a rope from the large, withered-looking weeds and grass growing in the barren rocks' crevices. With this makeshift rope, I could lower him down—as he was more experienced in such climbing—and we might be able to pull some of these spirits out of their dreadful situation.

This was a good idea, so we set to work and soon had a rope strong enough to bear the weight of my friend, for you should know that in spiritual, as well as in material things, weight is a matter of comparison, and the materiality of those low spheres will give them a much greater solidity and weight than belongs to a spirit sphere more advanced, and though to your material eyes of earth life my pirate friend would have shown neither distinct material form nor weight, yet a very small development of your spiritual faculties would have enabled you to both see and feel his presence, though a spirit the next degree higher would still remain invisible to you. Thus I am not in error, nor do I even say what is improbable, when I thus speak of my friend's weight, which for a rope made of spiritual grass and weeds was as great a strain as would have been the case with an earthly man and earth materials. Having made one end of the rope fast to a rock, the spirit descended with the speed and sureness acquired by long practice as a sailor. Once there he soon made it fast round the body of the poor helpless one whom he found lying moaning at the bottom. Then I drew up the rope and the spirit, and when he had been made safe I lowered it to my friend and drew him up, and having done what we could for the rescued one we went on and helped a few more in like fashion.

This was a great plan, so we quickly made a rope strong enough to support my friend. In the spirit world, weight is relative, and lower spheres have more solidity than higher ones. While invisible to physical eyes, a slightly developed spiritual sense could detect my pirate friend. His weight was significant for a rope made of spiritual materials, similar to an earthly person on a physical rope. We secured one end of the rope to a rock, and the spirit descended swiftly, using his sailor's skills. At the bottom, he found the helpless victim moaning and tied the rope around them. I pulled up both the victim and the spirit, ensuring their safety. Then I lowered the rope again for my friend. After rescuing this person, we continued on to help several others in the same way.

When we had pulled out as many as we could find, a most strange thing happened. The phosphorescent light died out and left us in utter darkness, while a mysterious voice floating, as it seemed, in the air, said, "Go on now, your work here is done. Those whom you have rescued were caught in their own traps, and the pitfalls that they made for others had received themselves, till that time when repentance and a desire to atone should draw rescuers to help them and free them from the prisons they had themselves made. In these mountains are many spirits imprisoned who may not yet be helped out by any, for they would only be a danger to others were they free, and the ruin and evil they would shed around make their longer imprisonment a necessity. Yet are their prisons of their own creating, for these great mountains of misery are the outcome and product of men's earthly lives, and these precipices are but the spiritual counterparts of those precipices of despair over which they have in earthly life driven their unhappy victims. Not till their hearts soften, not till they have learned to long for liberty that they may do good instead of evil, will their prisons be opened and they be drawn forth from the living death in which their own frightful cruelties to others have entombed them."

As we rescued as many as we could, something bizarre occurred. The glowing light vanished, plunging us into complete darkness. Then, a mysterious voice, seemingly from nowhere, said: "Your work here is done. Move on. Those you've saved were victims of their own schemes, trapped in the very snares they set for others. They remained there until their remorse and desire to make amends attracted rescuers to free them from their self-made prisons. Many spirits in these mountains remain imprisoned, as freeing them would endanger others. The destruction they'd cause necessitates their continued confinement. Yet, they created these prisons themselves. These mountains of misery are the result of their earthly lives, and these cliffs mirror the despair into which they drove their victims. Only when their hearts soften and they yearn for freedom to do good instead of evil will their prisons open. Only then will they be released from the living death in which their own terrible cruelties have entombed them."

The voice ceased, and alone and in darkness we groped our way down the mountain side till we reached the level ground once more. Those awful mysterious dark valleys of eternal night--those towering mountains of selfishness and oppression--had struck such a chill to my heart that I was glad indeed to know there was no call of duty for me to linger longer there.

The voice fell silent, and we carefully made our way down the mountainside in darkness, finally reaching level ground. Those eerie, pitch-black valleys and looming mountains of selfishness and oppression had chilled me to the bone. I felt relieved knowing I had no obligation to stay in that dreadful place any longer.

Our wandering now brought us to an immense forest, whose weird fantastic trees were like what one sees in some awful nightmare. The leafless branches seemed like living arms held out to grasp and hold the hapless wanderer. The long snake-like roots stretched out like twisting ropes to trip him up. The trunks were bare and blackened as though scorched by the blasting breath of fire. From the bark a thick foul slime oozed and like powerful wax held fast any hand that touched it. Great waving shrouds of some strange dark air plant clothed the branches like a pall, and helped to enfold and bewilder any who tried to penetrate through this ghostly forest. Faint muffled cries as of those who are exhausted and half smothered came from this awful wood, and here and there we could see the imprisoned souls held captive in the embrace of these extraordinary prisons, struggling to get free, yet unable to move one single step.

Our journey led us to a vast, eerie forest unlike anything in the waking world. The trees, bizarre and unsettling, seemed alive with malicious intent. Their bare branches reached out like grasping arms, while twisted roots snaked across the ground, threatening to ensnare unwary travelers. The trunks stood blackened and lifeless, as if scorched by hellfire. A thick, noxious slime oozed from the bark, adhering to anything it touched with surprising strength. Dark, ghostly plants draped the branches like funeral shrouds, further disorienting those who dared enter this nightmarish realm. Faint, muffled cries echoed through the wood, the sounds of exhausted, suffocating souls. We glimpsed these trapped spirits, held fast by the forest's strange embrace, desperately struggling yet unable to move an inch.

"How," I wondered, "shall we help these?" Some were caught by the foot--a twisted root holding them as in a vice. Another's hand was glued to the trunk of a tree. Another was enveloped in a shroud of the black moss, while yet another's head and shoulders were held fast by a couple of branches which had closed upon them. Wild ferocious looking beasts prowled round them, and huge vultures flapped their wings overhead, yet seemed unable to touch any of the prisoners, though they came so near.

I wondered how we could assist these trapped individuals. Some were caught by the foot, held tight as if in a vise by a twisted root. Another had their hand stuck to a tree trunk. One was wrapped in a dark moss shroud, while another's head and shoulders were pinned between two branches. Fierce-looking creatures prowled nearby, and massive vultures circled overhead, but they seemed unable to harm the captives despite their proximity.

"Who are those men and women?" I asked.

"Who are those people?" I asked.

"They are those," was the reply, "who viewed with delight the sufferings of others, those who gave their fellow men to be torn in pieces by wild beasts that they might enjoy the excitement of their sufferings. They are all those who for no reason but the lust of cruelty have, in many different ways and in many different ages, tortured and entrapped and killed those who were more helpless than themselves, and for all now here release will only come when they have learned the lesson of mercy and pity for others and the desire to save some one else from suffering, even at the expense of suffering to themselves. Then will these bands and fetters which hold them be loosed, then they will be free to go forth and work out their atonement. Till then no one else can help them--none can release them. Their release must be effected by themselves through their own more merciful desires and aspirations. If you will but recall the history of your earth and think how men in all ages have enslaved, oppressed and tortured their fellow men in every country of that globe, you will not wonder that this vast forest should be well peopled. It was deemed right that for your own instruction you should see this fearful place, but as none of those you see and pity have so far changed their hearts that you can give them aid, you will now pass on to another region where you can do more good."

"These are the people," came the answer, "who took pleasure in others' pain. They're the ones who threw their fellow humans to wild animals for entertainment. They include all those who, driven solely by a thirst for cruelty, have tortured, trapped, and killed the helpless throughout history. For them, freedom will only come when they learn mercy, compassion, and the desire to save others from suffering, even at their own expense. Only then will their restraints be removed, allowing them to work towards redemption. Until that time, no one else can help or free them. Their release must come from within, through their own compassionate desires and aspirations. If you consider Earth's history and how people have enslaved, oppressed, and tortured others in every country, you'll understand why this vast forest is so populated. It was necessary for your education to see this terrible place, but since none of those you see and pity have changed enough for you to help them, you'll now move on to an area where you can do more good."

After leaving the Forest of Desolation we had not gone far upon our road when to my joy I saw my friend Hassein approaching. Mindful, however, of Ahrinziman's warning I gave him the sign agreed upon and received the countersign in return. He had come, he said, with a message from my father and from my beloved who had sent me what were indeed sweet words of love and encouragement. Hassein told me that my mission would now lie amongst those great masses of spirits whose evil propensities were equalled only by their intellectual powers, and their ingenuity in works of evil. "They are those," said he, "who were rulers of men and kings of intellect in all branches, but who have perverted and abused the powers with which they were endowed till they have made of them a curse and not a blessing. With most of them you will have to guard yourself at all points against the allurements they will hold out to tempt you, and the treachery of every kind they will practice on yourself. Yet amongst them are a few whom you are sent to succor and whom your own instinct and events will point out as those to whom your words will be welcome and your aid valuable. I shall not in all probability bring you messages again, but some other may be sent to do so, and you must, above all things and before all things, remember to distrust any who come to you and cannot give the sign and symbol I have given. You are now in reality about to invade the enemies' camp, and you will find that your errand is known to them and resented, whatever it may suit them to pretend. Beware, then, of all their false promises, and when they seem most friendly distrust them most."

After leaving the Forest of Desolation, we hadn't gone far when I happily spotted my friend Hassein approaching. Remembering Ahrinziman's warning, I gave the agreed-upon sign and received the countersign in return. Hassein had come with a message from my father and my beloved, who sent me heartening words of love and support. Hassein explained that my mission would now involve dealing with vast numbers of spirits whose evil tendencies matched their intellectual abilities and ingenuity in wrongdoing. "These are former rulers and intellectual elites who misused their powers, turning them into a curse rather than a blessing," he said. "You'll need to guard yourself against their temptations and various forms of treachery. However, among them are a few you're meant to help. Your instincts and circumstances will guide you to those who will welcome your words and value your assistance." He continued, "I probably won't bring you messages again, but someone else might. Above all, remember to distrust anyone who can't give the sign and symbol I've shown you. You're essentially invading enemy territory, and they know and resent your mission, regardless of what they may pretend. Be wary of their false promises, and when they seem friendliest, that's when you should be most suspicious."

I promised to remember and heed his warning, and he added that it was necessary I should part for a time from my faithful companion, the pirate, as he could not safely accompany me in those scenes to which my path would now lead, but he promised he would place him under the care of one who could and would help him to leave that dark country soon.

I agreed to keep his warning in mind, and he added that I needed to separate temporarily from my loyal friend, the pirate. My companion couldn't safely join me in the upcoming events I was about to face. However, he assured me that he would entrust the pirate to someone capable of helping him escape that gloomy land soon.

After giving him loving and helpful messages to my beloved and my father, which he promised to deliver to them, we parted, and I set forth in the direction pointed out, greatly cheered and comforted by the good news and loving messages I had received.

After exchanging heartfelt messages for my beloved and my father, which he promised to relay, we said our goodbyes. I then set off in the suggested direction, feeling uplifted and reassured by the encouraging news and affectionate words I had received.