States of Hell | The Land of Ice and Snow

States of Hell

The Land of Ice and Snow—The Frozen Land

All those who have been cold and selfishly calculating in their earthly lives live in the Land of Ice and Snow—the Frozen Land. These have crushed out and chilled and frozen from their own lives and the lives of others all warm impulses and affections, which make the life of the heart and soul. They have so crushed and killed Love that its sun cannot shine where they are and only the frost of life remains. When there is even a little tiny drop of warmth, such as one tear of sorrow, then the ice begins to melt and there is hope for that poor soul.

Spirit Franchezzo describes a man who appears to be enclosed in a cage of ice—

This man had been one of the Grand Inquisitors of the Inquisition in Venice and had been one of those whose very names sent terror to the heart of any unfortunate who fell into their clutches; a most celebrated name in history yet, in all the records of his life and acts, there was not one instance where one shade of pity for his victims had touched his heart and caused him to turn aside—even for one brief moment—from his awful determination in torturing and killing those whom the Inquisition got into its toils. A man known for his own hard austere life that had no more indulgence for himself than for others. Cold and pitiless, he knew not what it was to feel one answering throb awake in his heart for another's sufferings. 

Franchezzo observes his face as a type of cold, unemotional cruelty; the long, thin, high nose, pointed sharp chin, high and rather wide cheekbones, thin, straight, cruel lips like a thin line across the face, head somewhat flat and wide over the ears while the deep-set penetrating eyes glitter from their penthouse brows with the cold, steely glitter of a wild beast's.

Like a procession of spectres, Franchezzo sees the wraiths of some of this man's many victims glide past him, maimed and crushed, torn and bleeding from their tortures—pallid ghosts, wandering astral shades, from which the souls have departed forever, but which yet cling around this man, unable to decay into the elements while his magnetism attaches them like a chain to him.

Other spirits haunt this man and taunt him with his own helplessness and their past sufferings but these are very different-looking; they are more solid in appearance and possess power and strength and intelligence wanting in those other misty-looking shades. These are spirits whose astral forms still hold the immortal souls imprisoned in them though they have been so crushed and tortured that only the fierce desire for revenge remains. These spirits are incessant in their endeavour to get at their former oppressor and tear him to pieces and the icy cage seems to be regarded by him as being as much protection from them as a prison for himself. One cleverer than the rest has constructed a long, sharp-pointed pole, which he thrusts through the bars to prod at the man within.  Others have sharp short javelins, which they hurl through the bars at him. Others again squirt foul, slimy water and the whole crowd combines in trying to hurl themselves en masse on the sheltering bars to break through, but in vain. The wretched man within whom long experience has taught the impregnability of his cage taunts them in return with a cold crafty enjoyment of their fruitless efforts.

Blue gorge | Author rachel_thecat| Wikimedia Commons | Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic