I AM HERE. G.H.B.

I am a spirit who cannot tell you of the joys of heaven, but I can describe the horrors of hell. For just as these other spirits described to you their homes of beauty and happiness, I can describe my home of ugliness and torment.

Do you wish me to do so?

(Yes, please do.)

Well, know then that, when I lived on earth, I was a man of very considerable intellectual powers and acquirements, and also of an intense animal nature—so much so that it overcame my judgment and what moral qualities I had; and I became, at last, a slave to my appetites, which were varied, especially my appetite for drink.

I had many friends of position, social and otherwise, and I was considered a brilliant newspaper writer, and had access to the inner political circles that were then in control of the government.

My weakness, or rather the effect of the strength of my animal nature, was known to many of my friends. And, in many ways, they tried to help me and rescue me from my evil and destructive course of living; and, it was not for any great length of time before I would again relapse into my deplorable habits and become the controlled victim of my destroying appetites.

Of course, human friendship and sympathy had their limits, and my friends finally gave me up as lost and past redemption. And I surely and quickly sunk lower and lower in my moral condition and, at last, died a drunkard, unwept and unsung except for the evil that I had done. It was undoubtedly a relief to my friends and acquaintances, when I passed over, to be forever relieved of the shadow of my presence and the ghost of what I had been.

But such was my end. And, when I came to the spirit world, I found that I still was deserted by friends who had become spirits before me, except not by some who liked the flowing bowl as I did on earth, and who were inhabitants of the unattractive place that I found myself in when my habitation became fixed.

When on earth, I never thought much of the future life, except to convince myself that there was no hell, and, if there was a God, that He was not bothered about me, a mere man of many millions.

But, oh, the fatal mistake, and the unexpected realization of the fact that there is a hell! Whether there is a God I don’t know, for I have never seen Him or felt His Influence. But since I came to you tonight and heard the messages of those two spirits who described their wonderful homes and their condition of happiness, and ascribed them all to the Kindness and Care of God, I have commenced to think that there may be a God and that my mistake was greater than I have heretofore realized. But this is a digression from what I started out to write.

That there is a hell I know to my sorrow and sufferings, for I have been the occupant of one for, oh, these many years! And it is always the same place of horrors and darkness, except, sometimes, it is lighted by the flame of lurid light that comes from the anger and sufferings of some unfortunate like myself.

In this hell of mine, and there are many like it, instead of beautiful homes, as the other spirits described, we have dirty, rotten hovels, all crooked and decayed, with all the foul smells of a charnel house ten-times intensified. And instead of beautiful lawns and green meadows, and leafy woods filled with musical birds making the echoes ring with their songs, we have stagnant pools filled with all kinds of repulsive reptiles and vermin, and smells of inexpressible, nauseating stinks.

I tell you that these are all real, and not creatures of the imagination or the outflowing of bitter recollections. And, as for love, it has never shown its humanizing face in all the years that I have been here—only cursings and hatred and bitter scathings and imprecations, and grinning spirits with their witch-like cacklings. There is no rest, no hope, no kind words or ministering hand to wipe away the scalding tears which so often flow in mighty volumes. No, hell is real and hell is here!

We do not have any fire and brimstone, or grinning devils with pitchforks and hoofs and horns, as the churches teach. But what is the need or necessity for such accompaniments? They would not add to the horrors or to our torments. I tell you, my friend, that I have only faintly described our homes in these infernal regions, and I cannot picture them as they are.

But the horror and pity of it all is that hope does not come to us with one faint smile to encourage us that there may be an ending to all these torments at some time. And, in our hopeless despair, we realize that our doom is fixed for all eternity.

As the rich man in hell said, “If I could only send Lazarus to tell my poor, erring brothers on earth of what awaits them, how gladly I would do so and save their souls from the eternal torment.”

Well, I have written you a long letter, and I am tired because it is the first time that I have attempted to write for many long years. I find some difficulty in gathering my thoughts so as to be able to write in an intelligent and collected manner. So, I must stop.

(My dear friend and brother, don’t despair, for I will attempt to help you out of your condition of darkness and suffering if you will allow me to do so.)

Well, I will say that you are the best friend that I have had since I became an outcast while on earth, and that I will do whatever you may advise. But you must not expect me to have much hope—not doubting your desire to help me, by merely your ability.

(Well, first you must open your heart and mind to receiving help from the Celestial spirits—spirits who were once sinful mortals like yourself before they became fully redeemed children of God by receiving His Divine Love through prayer. In addition, while you reach out to them in this way, I too will ask that they come to you with their great love and solicitude to provide you with the help you need. And as we thus both call upon them, simply look about you. Very soon, they will appear to your vision.)

Well, I have looked as you advised, and I see some spirits who are so beautiful and bright that I can scarcely look at them. Never before have I seen such spirits, or imagined that such could exist. They must be gods, or why all the great happiness and beauty and love which they have? Tell me, what does it all mean? Is it a star of hope that has come to me from afar, and bids me trust that these hells shall not be my home forever? Oh, tell me, I pray you, are they the spirits of real mortals who lived and died as I did?

Such love I have never seen! They look at me with such encouragement and almost human eyes of love, and they beckon me to come with them. I have asked if Mr. Riddle is there, and one spirit comes to me and says yes, and that he is glad to have me come with him, as he knew me on earth and is acquainted with my sad life. And now I remember him, for he was a friend who lived in the same city as I did.

He says, “Come G_____, and I will try to show you the Way to light and relief from your sufferings.” And I am going; and, as I go, a beautiful, glorious spirit comes to me and lays her hand on my head and says, “God bless you, my brother, and may His Divine Mercy be yours.” And she tells me that they all love me and will help me.

Oh, tell me, what does it all mean? Am I dreaming? Are you real and are they real, or am I in one of the deliriums that I used to have on earth? Oh, they are so beautiful and heavenly! But they say no—that they are real spirits and once lived on earth, and were sinful mortals like myself.

How can I ever thank you? I am overcome and cannot write more, but I will come again. So, my dear friend, good night, for I am going.

G.H.B.^[1]