After Death 20

We journeyed for some time until we came to a cave and here I found quite a number of men fast asleep. Strive as I would, I could not wake them. This surprised me, for until then I had never seen anyone asleep in these realms — having no bodies, we do not require sleep. 

I questioned my Guardian Angel who had drawn much nearer to me. He looked very sad as he replied – Son, these were men who stoutly maintained that after death there was no life. 

They were strong-willed men who, had they believed, might have done much good; as it is, they led many astray and since they held this view so strongly, they have, as it were, self-hypnotised themselves into a state of coma from which it is very hard to rouse them. 

Here they lie, age after age, and while men whom the world considered far worse than they and who had sunk far lower in Hell have been able to see the error of their ways and progress, they remain unconscious and cannot learn.  

This is truly terrible; is there no way of waking them? 

After long ages, the spell grows weak and great messengers of light come to them who, after much striving, do succeed in breaking through their sleep and rousing them.  

After a while, we reached a place of deep chasms and beetling crags and, after wandering along at the base of a range of these cliffs, we came in sight of a narrow, slippery stairway. 

As we did so, a figure came hurtling through the air and fell to the ground in front of us. It sprang to its feet and fled away into the darkness and was soon lost to sight among the crags and chasms. 

Who was that? I inquired of my guide. 

Some unfortunate creature who has offended against the traditions of the sixth division. They pride themselves on their respectability there and those who offend too deeply are hurled forth by the outraged inhabitants. Self-righteousness is the besetting sin there.  

They love to judge their neighbour and to spread scandal – but look, there is the light of the rest-house – and soon you will be able to judge for yourself what manner of men dwell in the sixth division of Hell.  

The climb up that long flight of steps was very painful but the beacon light grew ever stronger until soon it illumined a path. Though the light hurt, yet I bore it stoically and soon we entered the haven of refuge. 

We stayed a short time in this large rest-house before continuing our journey. The fog engulfed us again and we seemed to turn to the right. Soon, I saw the grey mass of a city. This city had a high wall on the side overlooking the great precipice and it was from one of the towers of the wall that the man we saw fall into the fifth division of Hell had been cast.

The town consisted, for the most part, of modern-looking houses of the dreary, respectable type that one sees in many of the London suburbs. Some attempt was evidently made to keep the place moderately clean and this was the first division in which this had been attempted. 

Seeing a theatre and asking my guide if I might enter it, he permitted me to do so, himself waiting outside. As I entered, I saw one of the inhabitants of the city and spoke to him. 

He seemed slightly taken aback and said – 

We have not been introduced!  

Oh, damn it, what does that matter? I replied. 

Please do not swear! he answered. 

I apologised and asked him what sorts of plays were shown in this city. 

All sorts, so long as they are not improper. We will not permit any suggestion of impropriety here. Nothing vulgar or immoral is permitted. All our plays and music-halls are conducted on the best principles.  

That is the first time since I have been in Hell that I have heard people object to impropriety. 

 He looked pained. 

I wish you would not use that word. There is no such place as Hell and certainly we are not in it. 

Do not talk nonsense … – I began – all this realm is Hell, so what is the use of pretending it is not. I have been long enough in Hell to know that.  

Stranger – he replied – who are you and from where do you come?  

So I told him briefly my history. As I went on, he slowly drew away from me and, before long, broke in with – 

That is enough, thank you. Either you are a liar or a villain. I know perfectly well I am not in Hell. I suppose I am still on earth but I have never associated with scoundrels and I am not going to begin now. Good-day and let me give you a piece of advice, which I do out of the kindness of my heart – I was always a kind-hearted man — Do not tell that story to anyone else here or they will have you thrown over the battlements – and he made off. 

I went into the theatre. A musical comedy was being performed. I have hardly ever seen a poorer show. The music was not absolutely discordant, as it is in the other divisions of Hell, but it was feeble stuff. The very worst kind of so-called popular music. There was no plot and the whole show was so banal and trashy that I cleared out at the end of the first scene. 

I noticed that the audience seemed as bored as I was but they stayed on. 

I tried a music-hall which advertised outside that its show was – 

A most Refined entertainment. Funny without being Vulgar. 

It certainly was not funny and it certainly was, to my thinking, intensely vulgar — not indecent but just vulgar. 

Low comedians of the worst type, vapid songs, silly aimless tricks – in short, absolute trash. 

On coming out, which I did very quickly, I came to a concert hall. Here, at least, I thought I may see something worth seeing or, at any rate, hear it but no – of all the banal twaddle, I think that concert was the worst. 

I left as quickly as I could and seeing a picture-gallery entered it without expecting much satisfaction and was not disappointed. All the rubbishy pictures in the world seemed to have been gathered together and hung on the walls of this ugly, pretentious building. 

I returned to my guide who had, as it were, concealed his natural brightness and, led by him, made my way through mean streets towards the centre of the town. Here I entered a very ugly brick church built in the pseudo-Gothic style. 

A service was being conducted by a fat, slimy sort of parson who seemed to mouth his words in a succulent, unctuous manner which irritated me intensely. 

The service was not absolutely discordant or blasphemous; it was merely hollow and unreal. The prayers were gabbled off as quickly as possible and it was obvious that there was no real belief behind it. It was merely a form carried through by priest and people because it was considered the proper thing to do. 

I will give you a few of the phrases which struck me in his sermon – 

Above all, my dear brothers and sisters, you must help to keep this great city clean of every form of vice. Each and every one of you should make it his or her business to watch for evil, to hunt it out and drive it forth. If you suspect that any person is secretly guilty of some vicious practice, do not rest until you discover his or her secret sin. Even if it is someone near and dear to you, it is your duty to denounce it. If you want help or advice in this great work, come to me and tell me what you suspect. Do not wait until the evil thing becomes rampant – strike at once. In me, you will always find a ready helper. Do not let any false ideas of honour stand in your way. In searching out evil, you are entitled to use any means.  

Let me give you an example. A friend of yours does not come to church. You suspect her of carrying on an intrigue with someone else’s husband. You should pretend to be sympathetic; you should trap her into a confession. You should warn her husband; above all, you should tell me.

He went on in this strain for some time and ended up with – 

And when guilt is established, no mercy must be shown to the guilty members of society. They must be driven out. They must be hurled from the battlements into the great chasm from which there is no return.  

In conclusion, he announced there would be a social entertainment the next day to raise funds for church improvements. 

As I was going out, I heard one member of the congregation say to another, both men – 

What I would like to know is what happens to all the money which he is always raising for church improvements?  

The other replied – I am sure he pockets it or, at least, most of it. 

The first man – Yes – I think so but what does he spend it on? 

The second man – I suspect that he leads a double life — has a second home, you know. 

I heard no more but I determined to go to the social entertainment. 

In due course, I arrived there and in a sort of church hall found the vicar and his curate surrounded by a worshipping band of females. They hung on his every word and when they got a chance poured scandal into his ear. Between times, they told spiteful tales about the vicar and various female members of his congregation. 

I got a chance of a few words with the vicar alone and said – 

Vicar, I am going to ask you a plain question between man and man and you can rely on my discretion. Do you believe in the truths of the Christian religion which you have to teach or, are you, like so many learned divines, personally convinced the whole thing is a myth and, if so, do you really think there is a God, Heaven and Hell?  

He pressed his two hands together and said unctuously – 

A great deal turns on what you mean by believe. A clergyman has a great responsibility. He must not say anything which may cause a weaker brother to stumble. 

I pressed him closely on the point and he said – 

Personally, I have long thought that the tale of Christ is a myth, a beautiful myth and I am sure St Paul thought so. I do not think the early Christians ever thought otherwise. They regarded it as a symbol which taught a great truth, just as the ancient Egyptians preached of the death and resurrection of Osiris. I do not imagine for a moment that an educated Egyptian believed that Osiris ever really lived; it was a parable. Unfortunately, the ignorant gradually grew to regard the parable as literally true and during the Middle Ages, this belief became universal.  

Today we are, by degrees, recovering the truth and clearing away the dross of superstition but we cannot proclaim these facts from the house-tops. If we did, we should probably be called agnostics and turned out of our livings. Still, quietly, we are doing a great work – a great work. 

I said – If the whole of Christianity is based on a parable, of what use is the Church?  

Of the very greatest, my friend. It is a great moral force. That is what it was originally intended to be and, in that sphere, it can be of the greatest benefit. I foresee a long life of useful work for the Church when freed from all the superstitious accretions which have attached themselves to its ancient form.  

Many men who, at present, are disgusted at what they rightly regard as puerile fables will rally to it as a great social factor for the moral uplifting of the masses. I think some people are inclined to lay too much stress on its social value and overlook the importance of its moral influence but they are materialists; thank Heaven, I am not one of them. 

Do you think there are such places as Heaven and Hell and is there, after all, such a being as God? 

With regard to the last point, I think we are not, as yet, in a position to give a definite answer. We are at liberty to hold our own views. To some people, the conception of a God of some sort is necessary, like the parables of Christ or they would cease to obey the moral law but, personally, while I would not be so presumptuous as to say there is no God, I do not consider one is essential. I consider that this world is governed by laws and the moral law is the highest. Those who break the moral law are punished by that law sooner or later so that I do not see that an arbitrary Creator is necessary but, of course, I should not say this to my flock as a whole. 

I interrupted the flow of eloquence with – Still, it is not necessary to conceive of God as an arbitrary Autocrat. He may be a wise, all-seeing Judge, who co-ordinates His various laws.  

He may be but to turn to the question of Heaven and Hell, I think I may say frankly I do not believe in either. I consider that each man gets his rewards and punishments on this earth either by disease or from his fellow-men. Hell I consider a monstrous idea. For my part, I should hesitate, to say there is no life after death but I doubt it. 

I stared at him for a minute and said – How did you get here?  

In rather a curious way. I was very ill and became unconscious. While I was in this state, I had some most curious and horrible dreams. I will not trouble to describe them but I was evidently delirious. When I recovered, I found myself here, without my wife. No one could tell me exactly how I came here and finding that the vicar of this church had just disappeared in a most mysterious way, I took up his cure and have done his work ever since. Everybody is agreed that he must be dead.

That is the curious thing about life here. People do not die. I never have a funeral service. They just vanish. I cannot help thinking the sanitary authorities dispose of the bodies silently but I have other things to bother about. My parish is a fashionable one – in the best part of the city – and I have to devote my whole time to it.  

But you have married again?  

Yes. I came to the conclusion that while I was ill, my wife must have died, so I had no hesitation in marrying again. Of course, I am too old to need that sort of thing but my wife is a great help in the parish – a great help. I am afraid she is not always tactful but one cannot have everything. 

Then even you do not realise that you are in Hell? 

What a preposterous question! 

I proceeded to give my reasons for knowing we were in Hell and narrated my adventures since I died. He listened very coldly and at last broke in with – 

Thank you, I have heard enough. If I were a swearing man, I should use strong language but I will content myself with saying that I do not believe a word you have told me. I am sorry I have wasted my time talking to such a man. If you are not a liar, then, by your own showing, you are an unmitigated scoundrel. Good-day and I should advise you to leave this city as soon as possible, for, although I will not myself denounce you, being a humane man, others will certainly discover your true character and then you can expect little mercy. 

He left me and a moment later began to tell two women who hurried up to him all about me, so I thought it best to depart without undue delay. 

After wandering through the city for some time, I saw a building which appeared to be a sort of Institute. On looking in, I perceived that there was a kind of debate in progress. It appeared that some missionaries from the higher realms had been holding meetings and, as a result, someone had proposed the theme – 

Is there Life after Death? 

One man said – 

There is no evidence that men live after death. Some people I know argue that we have died and since we are now alive, this fact proves that there is life after death. But this is begging the question. We are alive and this proves that we have not died. We have all been very ill and, on recovering, find the whole earth changed. Look how grey the sky is and how dark it is all day!  

Yes! broke in another man – that is why I am sure we are dead and I believe we are in Hell! 

Preposterous – cried the first speaker. We are just as comfortable here as we were before our illness.   

I do not believe in Hell but if, for the sake of argument, we admit that there may be such a place, all will agree that this cannot be Hell. The parsons taught us that Hell is a place of eternal torment, where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched. Well, there is nothing of that sort here. We are, of course, all rather bored with the same endless round of petty cares and troubles but that is what we always find on earth. There is no anguish of the damned any more than we experience the imaginary joys of Heaven. That, to my mind, is one of the strongest proofs possible that we are not dead. If there were such a thing as life after death, it would be entirely different to life on earth. 

Now this life may differ from life when we were younger but it is not so entirely different as it would be if we were disembodied spirits. Gentlemen, I move that this house considers that there is no convincing evidence in favour of life after death. 

I will not detain you with the arguments of his opponent who maintained that there was life after death. They followed the usual lines which might be expected. The speaker declared that he was sure he had died and admitted that he was puzzled where they were but considered that they were probably in purgatory (indignant protests from several staunch Protestants who declared this was Pope-ish rot). The chairman intervened and order was restored. 

I felt, however, he only half-believed his own arguments. 

The next man who rose had a really ingenious theory, though it failed to convince many of the audience. He said – 

I know I died and this life, I believe, is just a dream. I suppose our brains go on working for some little time after life is declared extinct. Having lost all real control of the body, it spends its time weaving wonderful dreams. Of course, I know this cannot last long but when on earth, I have often dreamed long dreams in which days and weeks seemed to elapse and found out afterwards that I had not dozed for more than five minutes. You will say at once – Then we are merely the phantoms of our brains. You are right. There is no city, no debating hall, no one but myself. I have dreamed you all. Soon my brain will run down and then the dream will cease. Look how we go on doing exactly the same things as we did on earth over and over again like automatons. No – the only life after Death consists of the dreams of the dying brain but I waste my time talking to the creations of my own fancy! and he sat down with a morose frown. 

A roar of laughter greeted this speech. I sprang up. 

Gentlemen, I am but a stranger who has wandered into your city on his journey to another place but, if you will only believe me, I think I can convince you that there is a life after Death and whether or not there is Heaven. There is certainly Hell and we are in it. Further, there are lower depths of Hell than this and in them men suffer torments akin to those which are considered proper to Hell. Listen to my own adventures since I died.  

It was no use – before I had nearly finished, they shouted me down and several threatened to haul me off to the battlements. As I went out, a man followed me and, as soon as I had got out of sight of the building, he came up to me and said – 

Sir, I know you are right and, as you have worked your way up through so many divisions of Hell, you will doubtless escape in the end. May I come with you? 

Before I could answer, his guide became visible and said – 

My son, I will guide you out of this realm to a place where loving friends will help you. Come – follow me. It was impossible for any to help you until you desired help but now I may return to you. And they went away together.  

So I journeyed on alone, led by my own guide, out of that city. 

We passed other cities and villages all very much alike, until, after some time, we reached a high mountain range. We climbed slowly and painfully and the higher we went, the harder and steeper became the path, until, at long last, we reached the top and saw another rest-house, larger and finer than any I had seen before. High up towered the building and from the topmost story, a great light beamed forth into the darkness. 

The Powers of Darkness were not going to allow me to escape without one last effort and, suddenly, I was surrounded by a howling mob, which tried to drag me back and cast me over the cliff. 

I had not toiled so hard and suffered so much to lose heart now and summoning all my will-power to me, I hurled my assailants to right and left. Even as I did so, my guide stood beside me in all his brightness and the vile spirits fell back screaming with fear. 

To me the pain was intense but I bore it and stumbling forward fell against the door. Instantly, it opened and kind hands drew me in and the door slammed to. As it did so, I heard a yell of baffled rage and hate. 

I heard my guardian angel’s voice saying – 

Son, for a while you will not see me but I will be always at hand.  

The strangers whom I could not see because of the light led me away into a darkened room. I stayed in the hospital undergoing treatment, which was directed to drawing out of my spiritual form all the gross and evil matter it contained. When this work was completed, I had shrunk to the size of a tiny baby. They began to build up my frame and, at long last, I was able to take my place in the schools.

When it was time for me to leave the school, I must admit that a great dread filled me. I feared the terrible darkness almost more than anything else but I refused to give way to this feeling and asked to be shown the way.

We went out of the same door by which I had entered the rest-house and, turning to the right, passed along a broad ledge. On one side was the chasm which led down to the sixth division, while on our right-hand was a high cliff. The darkness seemed blacker than ever probably because I had begun to get used to light in the schools.

We were passing a cave when a huge and hideous form sprang out crying – Hold, none may escape from Hell – but before he had time to touch me, my guide turned and made the sign of the cross in the direction of the foul creature who screamed and fled back into his stinking den.

The next phase will always remain in my memory as a hideous nightmare.

We began to climb the precipitous cliff. I kept constantly slipping back. Stones and rubbish slid from beneath my feet but we climbed on. My guide appeared to float slowly upwards, always a little ahead, and the light which flowed from him lit up my path. After some time, he bade me stay and I did so thankfully. We had reached a small level platform and here he bandaged my eyes saying –

To your weak faith, even the dim light of half-belief will be, for a time, too strong. 

We continued the upward journey. At length, we came to a piece up which I simply could not climb and my guide said –

Do not fear, I will help you to surmount this last obstacle, for the end of your long journey is almost attained. Next moment, I felt his hand in mine and, making a last effort, scrambled out on to the cliff’s level top. It seemed to be in a blaze of light, like the plains in India at midday. Despite the bandage, the pain was so intense that I rolled on the ground in anguish.

You know the rest of the story – how P. was there to greet me and introduce me to H. J. L. and how, from him, I have learnt how to communicate through you with the earth.

– The Officer.