We now saw before us a vast slightly undulating plain upon which great masses of dark spirits were moving. At Faithful Friend's suggestion we ascended a small hillock that we might observe their movements.
We gazed out at an immense, gently rolling plain where throngs of dark spirits roamed. Following Faithful Friend's advice, we climbed a small hill to get a better view of their activities.
"We are now," said Faithful Friend, "about to witness one of the great battles that take place here between the opposing forces of dark spirits whose delight was in war and its rapine and bloodshed, and who, here in the dark state which is the result of their earthly cruelty and ambition, carry on yet their warlike operations against each other and contend for the supremacy of these kingdoms of Hell. Behold how they are massing their forces for an attack upon those others on our right, and observe the skill they will display in their maneuvres. The powerful minds of men who swayed armies on earth sway such unhappy beings here as are not strong enough to resist their spell, and thus they force these less powerful spirits to fight under their banners whether they will nor not, just as they did with mortals on earth. You will see these powerful leaders engage in a struggle worse than deadly since no death can come to end the contest, which they renew over and over again, as it would almost seem eternally--or until, as is to be hoped, the satiety of mind of one or other of these powerful leaders will at last make him long for some nobler form of contest, some higher triumph of the soul than is won over these miserable beings in battles where victory gives only a fresh right to torture and oppress the vanquished. The same instincts and natural gifts which are now perverted to personal ambition and the lust for cruelty and dominion as their only aim, will, when purified, make these spirits mighty helpers, where now they are destroyers, and the same powers of Will will help forward the progress they now retard. When this progress shall take place depends, for each, upon the latent nobility of the soul itself--the awakening of the dormant love of goodness and justice and truth to be found in all. Though like seeds in the earth these germs of better things may lie long hidden beneath the mass of evil that overloads them, there must and does come a time for each when the better soul awakens and these germs of good send out shoots that lead to repentance and bring forth an abounding harvest of virtue and good works."
"We're about to see one of the great battles that occur here," said Faithful Friend. "It's between dark spirits who delighted in war, rapine, and bloodshed on Earth. In this dark state, the result of their earthly cruelty and ambition, they continue their warlike operations and fight for supremacy in these Hell kingdoms. Look how they're gathering their forces to attack those on our right, and notice their skillful maneuvers. Powerful minds that once commanded earthly armies now control weaker spirits here, forcing them to fight under their banners, just as they did with mortals on Earth. You'll see these powerful leaders engage in a struggle worse than death, as no death can end it. They repeat this contest seemingly endlessly, until, hopefully, one of these leaders grows tired of it and longs for a nobler form of contest, a higher triumph of the soul than what's won by torturing and oppressing the vanquished. The same instincts and natural gifts now perverted to personal ambition and the lust for cruelty and dominion will, when purified, make these spirits mighty helpers instead of destroyers. Their willpower will then help progress rather than hinder it. When this progress occurs depends on each spirit's latent nobility - the awakening of dormant love for goodness, justice, and truth found in all. Though these seeds of better things may long lie hidden beneath the evil that covers them, there must and does come a time for each when the better soul awakens. These germs of good then sprout, leading to repentance and bringing forth an abundant harvest of virtue and good works."
We looked over the vast plain and now beheld the two mighty hosts of spirits drawn up to confront one another in the array of battle. Here and there I beheld powerful spirits, leading each his band or regiment as in an earthly army. In the van of the opposing forces were two majestic beings who might have been models for Milton's Lucifer, so strong was the sense of power and high intellect with which they impressed me. In each there was a certain beauty and grandeur of form and feature--a regal majesty even in the degradation of Hell--but alas! the beauty was that of a wild fierce tiger or lion that watches how he may rend his army in pieces and drag his prey into his den. Dark and forbidding were their countenances, cruel and ferocious their gleaming eyes, the false smile, showing their sharp teeth like those animals of prey. The cunning of the serpent was in their looks, and the pitiless hunger of the vulture in their smile. Each rode in his chariot of war drawn, not by horses, but by the spirits of degraded men, whom they lashed forward as beasts of burden and drove furiously on to be trampled down in the melee as cattle. Wild strains of music that sounded like the shrieks of the souls of the damned and the thunders of a mighty storm broke from the assembled armies, and with one fell swoop they rushed forward and bore down upon each other--flying and hurrying through the air, or dragging themselves along the ground. Pushing, hustling, jostling, and trampling like a herd of wild animals--on they came, and as they met, their fierce cries and shouts and imprecations rent the air and made even Hell more hideous. They charged and re-charged, they maneuvered, marched, and counter-marched, these phantom spirit armies of the dead, even as they had done in the battles of earth life. They fought and wrestled like demons, not men, for they had no weapons save those of wild beasts--their teeth and claws. If a battle with mortal weapons is horrible, this was doubly so, where they fought as wolves and tigers might--the two powerful leaders directing the mass, urging them on and guiding the fight as the tide of battle swept back one side or the other.
We surveyed the vast plain, witnessing two massive spirit armies poised for battle. Powerful spirits led their regiments, mirroring earthly military structure. At the forefront of the opposing forces stood two majestic beings, reminiscent of Milton's Lucifer in their aura of power and intellect. These leaders possessed a certain beauty and grandeur, a regal majesty even in their fallen state. However, their beauty was that of a fierce predator, their faces dark and forbidding, eyes cruel and ferocious. Their smiles were false, revealing sharp teeth, with the cunning of a serpent in their gaze and the merciless hunger of a vulture in their expression. Each rode a war chariot drawn by the spirits of degraded men, whom they lashed and drove like beasts of burden. Wild music, like the shrieks of damned souls and thunderous storms, erupted from the armies. They charged at each other, flying through the air or crawling along the ground, pushing and trampling like wild animals. As the armies clashed, their fierce cries, shouts, and curses filled the air, making Hell even more horrific. They charged and maneuvered like phantom versions of earthly battles. Fighting like demons rather than men, they used only teeth and claws as weapons. This battle was doubly horrible compared to mortal combat, as they fought like wolves and tigers. The two powerful leaders directed the chaos, urging their forces on and guiding the fight as the tide of battle ebbed and flowed.
Over all had towered these two dark regal spirits, and now no longer content to let their soldiers fight, but bent each upon the destruction of the other, they rose from the fighting mass, and, soaring high above them, turned their looks upon each other with deadliest hate--then flying through the air with their dark robes extended behind and above them like wings, they grappled and wrestled together in a fierce struggle for supremacy. It was as though two eagles fought in mid-air while a mass of carrion crows grubbed and fought for worms beneath them. I turned from the crows to watch the eagles and to mark how, with no weapons but their hands and their powerful wills they fought as wild beasts do in a forest.
Above the fray loomed two imposing figures, no longer content to let their troops battle. Driven by mutual hatred, they rose above the chaos, locking eyes with deadly intent. Soaring through the air, their dark robes billowing like wings, they clashed in a fierce struggle for dominance. It was reminiscent of two eagles battling mid-flight while scavengers squabbled below. I turned my attention from the rabble to observe these titans, noting how they fought with nothing but their bare hands and iron wills, like wild beasts in the depths of a forest.
They uttered no sound, no cry, but gripped each other with a death-grip that neither would relax, and swayed to and fro in the air before us. Now one upward, now the other, their fierce eyes stabbing each other with fiery darts--their hot breath scorching each other's faces--their fingers clutching at each other's throats, and both seeking for a chance to fasten on their enemy with their teeth. Backwards and forwards, up and down they swayed and writhed in what seemed to me a death struggle for both. At last one seemed to fail. He sank below the other, who was bearing him to the ground to dash him, as I saw, over a deep precipice into a chasm in the rocks that skirted the field of battle--a deep and dark and awful pit into which he meant to hurl the vanquished one, and keep him prisoner. Fierce and long was the struggle, for the one below would not give in and clung to the other to drag him down with him if possible. But in vain. His powers were failing fast and as they reached the black chasm and hung poised over it, I saw the uppermost one wrench himself free by a mighty effort and fling the other from him, down into those awful depths.
They fought silently, locked in a death grip, swaying in the air before us. One moment one was on top, the next the other. Their eyes blazed with fury, their breath hot on each other's faces as they clawed at throats and tried to bite. Back and forth they wrestled in what seemed a fight to the death. Finally, one began to weaken. The stronger opponent forced him down, clearly intent on throwing him over a nearby cliff into a deep, dark chasm. The struggle intensified as the losing fighter desperately tried to drag his enemy down with him. But it was futile. As they teetered on the edge of the abyss, the victor wrenched free with one last powerful effort and flung his opponent into the terrible depths below.
With a shudder I turned away and saw that the battle had been raging as fiercely on the plain. Those spectral hosts had fought and the army of the victorious general had beaten back the forces of his vanquished foe till they were broken and dispersed in all directions, leaving their disabled comrades on the field lying as wounded men do in an earthly battle, while the victors were dragging away with them their captives, to what fate I could only too well guess.
I turned away with a shudder, realizing the battle had been just as fierce on the plain. The ghostly armies had clashed, with the victorious general's forces overwhelming their opponents. The defeated troops scattered in all directions, abandoning their injured comrades on the battlefield. The scene mirrored the aftermath of an earthly conflict, with the wounded lying where they fell. The victors dragged away their prisoners, and I dreaded to think what fate awaited them.
Sickened and disgusted with their brutishness I would fain have left this place, but Faithful Friend, touching my shoulder, said: "Now has come the time for our work, my friend. Let us descend yonder and see if there are none whom we can help. Amongst the fallen and vanquished we may find those who are as sick of war and its horrors as you, and who will be but too glad of our help." So we went down to the plain.
Repulsed by their savagery, I longed to leave this place. However, Faithful Friend touched my shoulder and said, "It's time for our work. Let's go down there and see if we can help anyone. Among the defeated, we might find those who are as weary of war as you are and would welcome our assistance." So we descended to the plain.
It was as might have been a battle-field when night has fallen upon it and there are but the wounded and the slain left behind. All the other spirits had gone like a flock of evil birds to seek fresh carrion. I stood among a writhing, moaning mass of beings and knew not where to begin my help--there were so many. It was worse--a thousand times worse--than any mortal battle-field. I have seen the dead and dying lying in the streets of my native town thick as fallen leaves, and my heart has ached and bled for them and burned with shame and anger that such things could be; but even there was at least the peace and sleep of death to soften the anguish, and there was the hope of helping those who yet lived. But here--in this awful Hell--there seemed no hope and no death that could relieve these suffering ones, no morning that should dawn upon the night of their miseries. If they revived would it not be to live again this awful life, to find themselves surrounded ever by this awful night, and these fierce wild beasts of men?
It was like a battlefield after nightfall, with only the wounded and dead remaining. The other spirits had fled like a flock of vultures in search of new prey. I stood among a mass of writhing, moaning beings, unsure where to begin helping—there were so many. This was far worse than any mortal battlefield. I've seen the dead and dying lying in the streets of my hometown, as thick as fallen leaves. My heart ached and bled for them, burning with shame and anger that such things could happen. But even there, at least the peace and sleep of death softened the anguish, and there was hope of helping those still alive. Here, in this dreadful Hell, there seemed no hope and no death to relieve these suffering souls, no dawn to break the night of their misery. If they revived, wouldn't it only be to relive this awful existence, forever surrounded by this terrible darkness and these fierce, wild beasts of men?
I stooped down and tried to raise the head of one poor wretch who lay moaning at my feet--crushed till his spirit-body seemed but a shapeless mass--and as I did so the mysterious Voice spoke in my ears and said:
I bent down and attempted to lift the head of a poor soul who lay groaning at my feet. He was so badly crushed that his spirit form appeared to be nothing more than a shapeless mass. As I did this, the mysterious Voice spoke in my ears, saying:
"Even in Hell there is Hope or why else are you come? The darkest hour is ever before the dawn, and for these--the vanquished and the fallen--has come the hour of their change. The very cause that has made them to be thus borne down and trampled under is that which shall now raise them. The desire for higher and better things, the shrinking from the evil around them has rendered them weak in the wickedness which is the strength of Hell and its inhabitants, and has made them waver and hesitate to thrust at and harm another with the ruthless force of these other wild and worthless beings, and thus they have been borne down and vanquished, but their fall from power here will open to them the doors of a higher state and thus shall there dawn for them the grey glimmer of a Higher Hope. Mourn not for them but seek to ease their sufferings that they may sink into a sleep of Death to this sphere and waken to a new life in the sphere next above."
Even in Hell, hope exists—why else would you be here? The darkest hour always comes before dawn, and for these defeated and fallen souls, their time for change has arrived. The very reason they were beaten down will now lift them up. Their longing for better things and aversion to evil made them weak in Hell's wickedness, causing them to hesitate in harming others with the ruthless force of their wild peers. Though this led to their downfall, it will open doors to a higher state, offering a glimmer of hope. Don't mourn for them; instead, try to ease their suffering so they may die to this realm and awaken to a new life in the sphere above.
"And what," I asked, "of that powerful spirit whom I saw thrown into the dark chasm?"
"What about that mighty spirit I saw hurled into the black pit?" I asked.
"He too will be helped in time, but his soul is not yet ripe for help, and it is of no use to try till then."
He'll get help when he's ready, but for now his mind isn't in the right place. There's no point in trying to assist him until he's prepared to receive it.
The Voice ceased and Faithful Friend, who was beside me, made signs to show me how to soothe these weary ones to sleep, and pointed out to me numerous stars of light which had gathered on that field of pain, and said they were carried by those of our Brotherhood who were, like ourselves, drawn here on their mission of Love and Mercy.
The voice fell silent. My companion, Faithful Friend, gestured to show me how to comfort these exhausted souls into slumber. He drew my attention to numerous points of light scattered across this realm of suffering. These lights, he explained, were carried by our fellow Brotherhood members who, like us, were drawn here on a mission of compassion and mercy.
Ere long the writhing, moaning forms had sunk into unconsciousness and a short time after I saw a sight that was strange and wonderful indeed. Over each silent form there arose a faint misty floating vapor, such as I had seen once before in the case of a spirit we had rescued, as I have already told. Gradually these vapors took shape and solidity and assumed the form of the released spirit or soul, then each was borne away by bands of bright ethereal spirits--who had gathered above our heads--till the last was gone and our work and theirs was done.
Soon, the writhing, moaning figures fell unconscious. Shortly after, I witnessed an extraordinary sight. Above each silent body, a faint, misty vapor appeared, similar to what I had seen before with a spirit we had rescued, as I previously mentioned. These vapors gradually took shape and became solid, forming the released spirit or soul. Then, groups of bright ethereal spirits, which had gathered above us, carried each one away until none remained, signaling the completion of our work and theirs.