"Get up and follow me!" he said.
"For Heaven's sake," I protested, "leave me alone. I am exhausted! I've
been tormented by a toothache for several days now and need rest.
Besides, nightmares have completely worn me out." I said this because
this man's apparition always means trouble, fatigue, and terror for me.
"Get up," he repeated. "You have no time to lose."
I complied and followed him. "Where are you taking me?" I asked.
"Never mind. You'll see." He led me to a vast, boundless plain,
veritably a lifeless desert, with not a soul in sight or a tree or
brook. Yellowed, dried-up vegetation added to the desolation I had no
idea where I was or what was I to do. For a moment I even lost sight of
my guide and feared that I was lost, utterly alone. Father Rua, Father
Francesia, nowhere to be seen. When I finally saw my friend coming
toward me, I sighed in relief.
"Where am I?" I asked.
"Come with me and you will find out!"
"All right. I'll go with you."
He led the way and I followed in silence, but after a long, dismal
trudge, I began worrying whether I would ever be able to cross that vast
expanse, what with my toothache and swollen legs. Suddenly I saw a road
ahead.
"Where to now?" I asked my guide.
"This way," he replied.
We took the road. It was beautiful, wide, and neatly paved. "The way of
sinners is made plain with stones, and in their end is hell, and
darkness, and pains. " (Ecclesiasticus 21: 11, stones: broad and easy.)
Both sides were lined with magnificent verdant hedges dotted with
gorgeous flowers. Roses, especially, peeped everywhere through the
leaves. At first glance, the road was level and comfortable, and so I
ventured upon it without the least suspicion, but soon I noticed that it
insensibly kept sloping downward. Though it did not look steep at all, I
found myself moving so swiftly that I felt I was effortlessly gliding
through the air. Really, I was gliding and hardly using my feet. Then
the thought struck me that the return trip would be very long and
arduous.
"How shall we get back to the Oratory?" I asked worriedly.
"Do not worry," he answered. "The Almighty wants you to go. He who leads you on will also know how to lead you back."
The road is sloping downward. As we were continuing on our way, flanked
by banks of roses and other flowers, I became aware that the Oratory
boys and very many others whom I did not know were following me. Somehow
I found myself in their midst. As I was looking at them, I noticed now
one, now another fall to the ground and instantly be dragged by an
unseen force toward a frightful drop, distantly visible, which sloped
into a furnace. "What makes these boys fall?" I asked my companion. "The
proud have hidden a net for me. And they have stretched out cords for a
snare: they have laid for me a stumbling-block by the wayside." (Psalms
139: 6)
"Take a closer look," he replied.
I did. Traps were everywhere, some close to the ground, others at eye
level, but all well concealed. Unaware of their danger, many boys got
caught, and they tripped, they would sprawl to the ground, legs in the
air. Then, when they managed to get back on their feet, they would run
headlong down the road toward the abyss. Some got trapped by the head,
others by the neck, hand, arms, legs, or sides, and were pulled down
instantly. The ground traps, fine as spiders' webs and hardly visible,
seemed very flimsy and harmless; yet, to my surprise, every boy they
snared fell to the ground.
Noticing my astonishment, the guide remarked, "Do you know what this is?"
"Just some filmy fiber," I answered.
"A mere nothing," he said, "just plain human respect.",
Seeing that many boys were being caught in those straps. I asked, "Why do so many get caught? Who pulls them down?"
"Go nearer and you will see!" he told me.
I followed his advice but saw nothing peculiar.
"Look closer," he insisted.
I picked up one of the traps and tugged. I immediately felt some
resistance. I pulled harder, only to feel that, instead of drawing the
thread closer, I was being pulled down myself. I did not resist and soon
found myself at the mouth of a frightful cave. I halted, unwilling to
venture into that deep cavern, and again started pulling the thread
toward me. It gave a little, but only through great effort on my part. I
kept tugging, and after a long while a huge, hideous monster emerged,
clutching a rope to which all those traps were tied together. He was the
one who instantly dragged down anyone who got caught in them. It won't
do to match my strength with his, I said to myself. I'll certainly lose.
I'd better fight him with the Sign of the Cross and with short
invocations.
Then I went back to my guide. "Now you know who he is," he said to me.
"I surely do! It is the devil himself!"
Carefully examining many of the traps, I saw that each bore an
inscription: Pride, Disobedience, Envy, Sixth Commandment, Theft,
Gluttony, Sloth, Anger and so on. Stepping back a bit to see which ones
trapped the greater number of boys, I discovered that the most dangerous
were those of impurity, disobedience, and pride. In fact, these three
were linked to together. Many other traps also did great harm, but not
as much as the first two. Still watching, I noticed many boys running
faster than others. "Why such haste?" I asked.
"Because they are dragged by the snare of human respect."
Looking even more closely, I spotted knives among the traps. A
providential hand had put them there for cutting oneself free. The
bigger ones, symbolizing meditation, were for use against the trap of
pride; others, not quite as big, symbolized spiritual reading well made.
There were also two swords representing devotion to the Blessed
Sacrament, especially through frequent Holy Communion, and to the
Blessed Virgin. There was also a hammer symbolizing confession, and
other knives signifying devotion to Saint Joseph, to Saint Aloysius, and
to other Saints. By these means quite a few boys were able to free
themselves or evade capture.
Indeed I saw some lads walking safely through all those traps, either by
good timing before the trap sprung on them or by making it slip off
them if they got caught.
When my guide was satisfied that I had observed everything, he made me
continue along that rose-hedged road, but the farther we went the
scarcer the roses became. Long thorns began to show up, and soon the
roses were no more. The hedges became sun-scorched, leafless, and
thorn-studded. Withered branches torn from the bushes lay criss-crossed
along the roadbed, littering it with thorns and making it impassable. We
had come now to a gulch whose steep sides hid what lay beyond. The
road, still sloping downward, was becoming ever more horrid, rutted,
guttered, and bristling with rocks and boulders. I lost track of all my
boys, most of whom had left this treacherous road for other paths.
I kept going, but the farther I advanced, the more arduous and steep
became the descent, so that I tumbled and fell several times, lying
prostrate until I could catch my breath. Now and then my guide supported
me or helped me to rise. At every step my joints seemed to give way,
and I thought my shinbones would snap. Panting, I said to my guide, "My
good fellow, my legs won't carry me another step. I just can't go any
farther."
He did not answer but continued walking. Taking heart, I followed until,
seeing me soaked in perspiration and thoroughly exhausted, he led me to
a little clearing alongside the road. I sat down, took a deep breath,
and felt a little better. From my resting place, the road I had already
traveled looked very steep, jagged, and strewn with loose stones, but
what lay ahead seemed so much worse that I closed my eyes in horror.
"Let's go back," I pleaded. "If we go any farther, how shall we ever get
back to the Oratory? I will never make it up this slope."
"Now that we have come so far, do you want me to leave you here?" my guide sternly asked.
At this threat, I wailed, "How can I survive without your help?"
"Then follow me."
We continued our descent, the road now becoming so frightfully steep
that it was almost impossible to stand erect. And then, at the bottom of
this precipice, at the entrance of a dark valley, an enormous building
loomed into sight, its towering portal, tightly locked, facing our road.
When I finally got to the bottom, I became smothered by a suffocating
heat, while a greasy, green-tinted smoke lit by flashes of scarlet
flames rose from behind those enormous walls which loomed higher than
mountains.
"Where are we? What is this?" I asked my guide.
"Read the inscription on that portal and you will know."
I looked up and read these words: "The place of no reprieve." I realized
that we were at the gates of Hell. The guide led me all around this
horrible place. At regular distance bronze portals like the first
overlooked precipitous descents; on each was an inscription, such as:
"Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared
for the devil and his angels." (Matthew 25: 41) "Every tree that yielded
not good fruit, shall be cut down, and shall be cast into the the
fire." (Matthew 7: 19)
I tried to copy them into my notebook, but my guide restrained me:
"There is no need. You have them all in Holy Scripture. You even have
some of them inscribed in your porticoes."
At such a sight I wanted to turn back and return to the Oratory. As a
matter of fact, I did start back, but my guide ignored my attempt. After
trudging through a steep, never-ending ravine, we again came to the
foot of the precipice facing the first portal. Suddenly the guide turned
to me. Upset and startled, he motioned to me to step aside. "Look!" he
said.
I looked up in terror and saw in the distance someone racing down the
path at an uncontrollable speed. I kept my eyes on him, trying to
identify him, and as he got closer, I recognized him as one of my boys.
His disheveled hair was partly standing upright on his head and partly
tossed back by the wind. His arms were outstretched as though he were
thrashing the water in an attempt to stay afloat. He wanted to stop, but
could not. Tripping on the protruding stones, he kept falling even
faster. "Let's help him, let's stop him," I shouted, holding out my
hands in a vain effort to restrain him.
"Leave him alone," the guide replied.
"Why?"
"Don't you know how terrible God's vengeance is? Do you think you can restrain one who is fleeing from His just wrath?"
Meanwhile the youth had turned his fiery gaze backward in an attempt to
see if God's wrath were still pursuing him. The next moment he fell
tumbling to the bottom of the ravine and crashed against the bronze
portal as though he could find no better refuge in his flight.
"Why was he looking backward in terror?" I asked.
"Because God's wrath will pierce Hell's gates to reach and torment him even in the midst of fire!"
As the boy crashed into the portal, it sprang open with a roar, and
instantly a thousand inner portals opened with a deafening clamor as if
struck by a body that had been propelled by an invisible, most violent,
irresistible gale. As these bronze doors -- one behind the other, though
at a considerable distance from each other -- remained momentarily
open, I saw far into the distance something like furnace jaws sprouting
fiery balls the moment the youth hurtled into it. As swiftly as they had
opened, the portals then clanged shut again. For a third time I tried
to jot down the name of that unfortunate lad, but the guide again
restrained me. "Wait," he ordered.
"Watch!"
Three other boys of ours, screaming in terror and with arms
outstretched, were rolling down one behind the other like massive rocks,
I recognized them as they too crashed against the portal. In that split
second, it sprang open and so did the other thousand. The three lads
were sucked into that endless corridor amid a long-drawn, fading,
infernal echo, and then the portals clanged shut again. At intervals,
many other lads came tumbling down after them. I saw one unlucky boy
being pushed down the slope by an evil companion. Others fell singly or
with others, arm in arm or side by side. Each of them bore the name of
his sin on his forehead. I kept calling to them as they hurtled down,
but they did not hear me. Again the portals would open thunderously and
slam shut with a rumble. Then, dead silence!
"Bad companions, bad books, and bad habits," my guide exclaimed, "are mainly responsible for so many eternally lost."
The traps I had seen earlier were indeed dragging the boys to ruin.
Seeing so many going to perdition, I cried out disconsolately, "If so
many of our boys end up this way, we are working in vain. How can we
prevent such tragedies?"
"This is their present state," my guide replied, "and that is where they would go if they were to die now."
"Then let me jot down their names so that I may warn them and put them back on the path to Heaven."
"Do you really believe that some of them would reform if you were to
warn them? Then and there your warning might impress them, but soon they
will forget it, saying, 'It was just a dream,' and they will do worse
than before. Others, realizing they have been unmasked, receive the
sacraments, but this will be neither spontaneous nor meritorious; others
will go to confession because of a momentary fear of Hell but will
still be attached to sin."
"Then is there no way to save these unfortunate lads? Please, tell me what I can do for them."
"They have superiors; let them obey them. They have rules; let them
observe them. They have the sacraments; let them receive them."
Just then a new group of boys came hurtling down and the portals momentarily opened. "Let's go in," the guide said to me.
I pulled back in horror. I could not wait to rush back to the Oratory to warn the boys lest others might be lost as well.
"Come," my guide insisted. "You'll learn much. But first tell me: Do you
wish to go alone or with me?" He asked this to make me realize that I
was not brave enough and therefore needed his friendly assistance.
"Alone inside that horrible place?" I replied. "How will I ever be able
to find my way out without your help?" Then a thought came to my mind
and aroused my courage. Before one is condemned to Hell, I said to
myself, he must be judged. And I haven't been judged yet!
"Let's go," I exclaimed resolutely. We entered that narrow, horrible
corridor and whizzed through it with lightning speed. Threatening
inscriptions shone eerily over all the inner gateways. The last one
opened into a vast, grim courtyard with a large, unbelievably forbidding
entrance at the far end. Above it stood this inscription:
"These
shall go into everlasting punishment." (Matthew 25: 46) The walls all
about were similarly inscribed. I asked my guide if I could read them,
and he consented. These were the inscriptions:
"He will give fire, and worms into their flesh, and they may burn and may feel forever." (Judith 16: 21)
"The pool of fire where both the beast and the false prophet shall be
tormented day and night forever and ever." (Apocalypse 20: 9-10)
"And the smoke of their torments shall ascend up forever and ever." (Apocalypse 14: 11)
"A land of misery and darkness, where the shadow of death, and no order, but everlasting horror dwelleth." (Job 10: 22)
"There is no peace to the wicked." (Isaias 47: 22)
"There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (Matthew 8:12)
While I moved from one inscription to another, my guide, who had stood in the center of the courtyard, came up to me.
"From here on," he said, "no one may have a helpful companion, a
comforting friend, a loving heart, a compassionate glance, or a
benevolent word. All this is gone forever. Do you just want to see or
would you rather experience these things yourself?"
"I only want to see!" I answered.
"Then come with me," my friend added, and, taking me in tow, he stepped
through that gate into a corridor at whose far end stood an observation
platform, closed by a huge, single crystal pane reaching from the
pavement to the ceiling. As soon as I crossed its threshold, I felt an
indescribable terror and dared not take another step. Ahead of me I
could see something like an immense cave which gradually disappeared
into recesses sunk far into the bowels of the mountains. They were all
ablaze, but theirs was not an earthly fire with leaping tongues of
flames. The entire cave --walls, ceiling, floor, iron, stones, wood, and
coal -- everything was a glowing white at temperatures of thousands of
degrees. Yet the fire did not incinerate, did not consume. I simply
can't find words to describe the cavern's horror. "The nourishment
thereof is fire and much wood: the breath of the Lord as a torrent of
brimstone kindling it." (Isaias 30: 33)
I was staring in bewilderment about me when a lad dashed out of a gate.
Seemingly unaware of anything else, he emitted a most shrilling scream,
like one who is about to fall into a cauldron of liquid bronze, and
plummeted into the center of the cave. Instantly he too became
incandescent and perfectly motionless, while the echo of his dying wail
lingered for an instant more.
Terribly frightened, I stared briefly at him for a while. He seemed to
be one of my Oratory boys. "Isn't he so and so?" I asked my guide.
"Yes," was the answer.
"Why is he so still, so incandescent?"
"You chose to see," he replied. "Be satisfied with that. Just keep
looking. Besides, "Everyone shall be salted with fire." (Mark 9: 48)
As I looked again, another boy came hurtling down into the cave at
breakneck speed. He too was from the Oratory. As he fell, so he
remained. He too emitted one single heart-rending shriek that blended
with the last echo of the scream that came from the youth who had
preceded him. Other boys kept hurtling in the same way in increasing
numbers, all screaming the same way and then all becoming equally
motionless and incandescent. I noticed that the first seemed frozen to
the spot, one hand and one foot raised into the air; the second boy
seemed bent almost double to the floor. Others stood or hung in various
other positions, balancing themselves on one foot or hand, sitting or
lying on their backs or on their sides, standing or kneeling, hands
clutching their hair. Briefly, the scene resembled a large statuary
group of youngsters cast into ever more painful postures. Other lads
hurtled into that same furnace. Some I knew; others were strangers to
me. I then recalled what is written in the Bible to the effect that as
one falls into Hell, so he shall forever remain. ". . . in what place
soever it shall fall, there shall it be." (Ecclesiastes 11:3)
More frightened than ever, I asked my guide, "When these boys come
dashing into this cave, don't they know where they are going?"
"They surely do. They have been warned a thousand times, but they still
choose to rush into the fire because they do not detest sin and are
loath to forsake it. Furthermore, they despise and reject God's
incessant, merciful invitations to do penance. Thus provoked, Divine
Justice harries them, hounds them, and goads them on so that they cannot
halt until they reach this place."
"Oh, how miserable these unfortunate boys must feel in knowing they no longer have any hope," I exclaimed.
"If you really want to know their innermost frenzy and fury, go a little closer," my guide remarked.
I took a few steps forward and saw that many of those poor wretches were
savagely striking at each other like mad dogs. Others were clawing
their own faces and hands, tearing their own flesh and spitefully
throwing it about. Just then the entire ceiling of the cave became as
transparent as crystal and revealed a patch of Heaven and their radiant
companions safe for all eternity.
The poor wretches, fuming and panting with envy, burned with rage
because they had once ridiculed the just. "The wicked shall see, and be
angry, he shall gnash with his teeth, and pine away. . . " (Psalms 111:
10)
"Why do hear no sound?" I asked my guide,
"Go closer!" he advised.
Pressing my ear to the crystal window, I heard screams and sobs,
blasphemies and imprecations against the Saints. It was a tumult of
voices and cries, shrill and confused.
"When they recall the happy lot of their good companions," he replied,
"they are obliged to admit: "We fools esteemed their life madness, and
their end without honour. Behold, how they are numbered among the
children of God, and their lot is among the saints. Therefore we have
erred from the way of truth, and the light of justice hath not shined
unto us, and the sun of understanding hath not risen upon us." (Wisdom
5:4-6)
"We wearied ourselves in the way of iniquity and destruction, and have
walked through hard ways, but the way of the Lord we have not known.
What hath pride profited us ? or what advantage hath the boasting of
riches brought us ? All those things are passed away like a shadow."
(Wisdom 5: 7-9)
"Here time is no more. Here is only eternity."
While I viewed the condition of many of my boys in utter terror, a
thought suddenly struck me. "How can these boys be damned?" I asked.
"Last night they were still alive at the Oratory!"
"The boys you see here," he answered, "are all dead to God's grace. Were
they to die now or persist in their evil ways, they would be damned.
But we are wasting time. Let us go on."
He led me away and we went down through a corridor into a lower cavern,
at whose entrance I read: "Their worm shall not die, and their fire
shall not be quenched." (Isaias 66: 24) "He will give fire, and worms
into their flesh, and they may burn and may feel forever." (Judith 16:
21)
Here one could see how atrocious was the remorse of those who had been
pupils in our schools. What a torment was their, to remember each
unforgiven sin and its just punishment, the countless, even
extraordinary means they had had to mend their ways, persevere in
virtue, and earn paradise, and their lack of response to the many favors
promised and bestowed by the Virgin Mary. What a torture to think that
they couId have been saved so easily, yet now are irredeemably lost, and
to remember the many good resolutions made and never kept. Hell is
indeed paved with good intentions!
In this lower cavern I again saw those Oratory boys who had fallen into
the fiery furnace. Some are listening to me right now; others are former
pupils or even strangers to me. I drew closer to them and noticed that
they were all covered with worms and vermin which gnawed at their
vitals, hearts, eyes, hands, legs, and entire bodies so ferociously as
to defy description. Helpless and motionless, they were a prey to every
kind of torment. Hoping I might be able to speak with them or to hear
something from them, I drew even closer but no one spoke or even looked
at me. I then asked my guide why, and he explained that the damned are
totally deprived of freedom. Each must fully endure his own punishment,
with absolutely no reprieve whatever.
"And now," he added, "you too must enter that cavern."
"Oh, no!" I objected in terror. "Before going to Hell, one has to be
judged. I have not been judged yet, and so I will not go to Hell!"
"Listen," he said, "what would you rather do: visit Hell and save your boys, or stay outside and leave them in agony?"
For a moment I was struck speechless. "Of course I love my boys and wish
to save them all," I replied, "but isn't there some other way out?"
"Yes, there is a way," he went on, "provided you do all you can."
I breathed more easily and instantly said to myself, I don't mind
slaving if I can rescue these beloved sons of mine from such torments.
"Come inside then," my friend went on, "and see how our good, almighty
God lovingly provides a thousand means for guiding your boys to penance
and saving them from everlasting death."
Taking my hand, he led me into the cave. As I stepped in, I found myself
suddenly transported into a magnificent hall whose curtained glass
doors concealed more entrances.
Above one of them I read this inscription: The Sixth Commandment.
Pointing to it, my guide exclaimed, "Transgressions of this commandment
caused the eternal ruin of many boys."
"Didn't they go to confession?"
"They did, but they either omitted or insufficiently confessed the sins
against the beautiful virtue of purity, saying for instance that they
had committed such sins two or three times when it was four or five.
Other boys may have fallen into that sin but once in their childhood,
and, through shame, never confessed it or did so insufficiently. Others
were not truly sorry or sincere in their resolve to avoid it in the
future. There were even some who, rather than examine their conscience,
spent their time trying to figure out how best to deceive their
confessor. Anyone dying in this frame of mind chooses to be among the
damned, and so he is doomed for all eternity. Only those who die truly
repentant shall be eternally happy. Now do you want to see why our
merciful God brought you here?" He lifted the curtain and I saw a group
of Oratory boys -- all known to me -- who were there because of this
sin. Among them were some whose conduct seems to be good.
"Now you will surely let me take down their names so that I may warn them individually," I exclaimed.
"Then what do you suggest I tell them?"
"Always preach against immodesty. A generic warning will suffice. Bear
in mind that even if you did admonish them individually, they would
promise, but not always in earnest. For a firm resolution, one needs
God's grace which will not be denied to your boys if they pray. God
manifests His power especially by being merciful and forgiving. On your
part, pray and make sacrifices. As for the boys, let them listen to your
admonitions and consult their conscience. It will tell them what to
do."
We spent the next half hour discussing the requisites of a good
confession. Afterward, my guide several times exclaimed in a loud voice,
"Avertere! Avertere!"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Change life! "
Perplexed, I bowed my head and made as if to withdraw, but he held me back.
"You haven't seen everything yet," he explained.
He turned and lifted another curtain bearing this inscription: "They who
would become rich, fall into temptation, and to the snare of the
devil." (1 Timothy 6: 9) (Note: would become rich: wish to become rich,
seek riches, set their heart and affections toward riches.)
"This does not apply to my boys! I countered, "because they are as poor
as I am. We are not rich and do not want to be. We give it no thought."
As the curtain was lifted, however, I saw a group of boys, all known to
me. They were in pain, like those I had seen before. Pointing to them,
my guide remarked, "As you see, the inscription does apply to your
boys."
"But how?" I asked.
"Well," he said, "some boys are so attached to material possessions that
their love of God is lessened. Thus they sin against charity, piety,
and meekness. Even the mere desire of riches can corrupt the heart,
especially if such a desire leads to injustice. Your boys are poor, but
remember that greed and idleness are bad counselors. One of your boys
committed substantial thefts in his native town, and though he could
make restitution, he gives it not a thought. There are others who try to
break into the pantry or the prefect's or economer's office; those who
rummage in their companions' trunks for food, money, or possessions;
those who steal stationery and books...."
After naming these boys and others as well, he continued, "Some are here
for having stolen clothes, linen, blankets, and coats from the Oratory
wardrobe in order to send them home to their families; others for
willful, serious damage; others, yet, for not having given back what
they had borrowed or for having kept sums of money they were supposed to
hand over to the superior. Now that you know who these boys are," he
concluded, "admonish them. Tell them to curb all vain, harmful desires,
to obey God's law and to safeguard their reputation jealously lest greed
lead them to greater excesses and plunge them into sorrow, death, and
damnation."
I couldn't understand why such dreadful punishments should be meted out
for infractions that boys thought so little of, but my guide shook me
out of my thoughts by saying: "Recall what you were told when you saw
those spoiled grapes on the wine." With these words he lifted another
curtain which hid many of our Oratory boys, all of whom I recognized
instantly. The inscription on the curtain read: The root of all evils.
"Do you know what that means?" he asked me immediately.
"What sin does that refer to?"
"Pride?"
"No!"
"And yet I have always heard that pride is the root of all evil."
"It is, generally speaking, but, specifically, do you know what led Adam
and Eve to commit the first sin for which they were driven away from
their earthly paradise?"
"Disobedience?"
"Exactly! Disobedience is the root of all evil."
"What shall I tell my boys about it?"
"Listen carefully: the boys you see here are those who prepare such a
tragic end for themselves by being disobedient. So-and-so and so-and-so,
who you think went to bed, leave the dormitory later in the night to
roam about the playground, and, contrary to orders, they stray into
dangerous areas and up scaffolds, endangering even their lives. Others
go to church, but, ignoring recommendations, they misbehave; instead of
praying, they daydream or cause a disturbance. There are also those who
make themselves comfortable so as to doze off during church services,
and those who only make believe they are going to church. Woe to those
who neglect prayer! He who does not pray dooms himself to perdition.
Some are here because, instead of singing hymns or saying the Little
Office of the Blessed Virgin, they read frivolous or -- worse yet --
forbidden books." He then went on mentioning other serious breaches of
discipline.
When he was done, I was deeply moved.
"May I mention all these things to my boys?" I asked, looking at him straight in the eye.
"Yes, you may tell them whatever you remember."
"What advice shall I give them to safeguard them from such a tragedy?"
"Keep telling them that by obeying God, the Church, their parents, and
their superiors, even in little things, they will be saved."
"Anything else?"
"Warn them against idleness. Because of idleness David fell into sin.
Tell them to keep busy at all times, because the devil will not then
have a chance to tempt them."
I bowed my head and promised. Faint with dismay, I could only mutter,
"Thanks for having been so good to me. Now, please lead me out of here."
"All right, then, come with me." Encouragingly he took my hand and held
me up because I could hardly stand on my feet. Leaving that hall, in no
time at all we retraced our steps through that horrible courtyard and
the long corridor. But as soon as we stepped across the last bronze
portal, he turned to me and said, "Now that you have seen what others
suffer, you too must experience a touch of Hell."
"No, no!" I cried in terror.
He insisted, but I kept refusing.
"Do not be afraid," he told me; "just try it. Touch this wall."
I could not muster enough courage and tried to get away, but he held me
back. "Try it," he insisted. Gripping my arm firmly, he pulled me to the
wall. "Only one touch," he cornmanded, "so that you may say you have
both seen and touched the walls of eternal suffering and that you may
understand what the last wall must be like if the first is so
unendurable. Look at this wall!"
I did intently. It seemed incredibly thick. "There are a thousand walls
between this and the real fire of Hell," my guide continued. "A thousand
walls encompass it, each a thousand measures thick and equally distant
from the next one. Each measure is a thousand miles. This wall therefore
is millions and millions of miles from Hell's real fire. It is just a
remote rim of Hell itself."
When he said this, I instinctively pulled back, but he seized my hand,
forced it open, and pressed it against the first of the thousand walls.
The sensation was so utterly excruciating that I leaped back with a
scream and found myself sitting up in bed. My hand was stinging and I
kept rubbing it to ease the pain. When I got up this morning I noticed
that it was swollen. Having my hand pressed against the wall, though
only in a dream, felt so real that, later, the skin of my palm peeled
off.
Bear in mind that I have tried not to frighten you very much, and so I
have not described these things in all their horror as I saw them and as
they impressed me. We know that Our Lord always portrayed Hell in
symbols because, had He described it as it really is, we would not have
understood Him. No mortal can comprehend these things. The Lord knows
them and He reveals them to whomever He wills. [END]
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