This is a question of great importance, or at least of very great
interest. According to the Christian scheme of salvation, the vast
majority of us will have to spend eternity in "sulphurous and tormenting
flames," and we are naturally curious as to the situation of a place in
which we shall experience such delightful sensations.
But there is hardly any subject on which we can obtain so little
information. The clergy are becoming more and more reticent about it.
What little they ever knew is being secreted in the depths of their
inner consciousness. When they are pressed for particulars they look
injured. Sometimes they piteously exclaim "Don't." At other times they
wax wroth, and exclaim to the questioners about the situation of hell,
"Wait till you get there."
Just as heaven used to be spoken of as "up above," hell was referred to
as "down below." At one time, indeed, it was believed to be underground.
Many dark caves were thought to lead to it, and some of them were called
"Hell Mouth." Volcanoes were regarded as entrances to the fiery regions,
and when there was an eruption it was thought that hell was boiling
over. Classic mythology, before the time of Christ, had its entrances to
hell at Acherusia, in Bithynia; at Avernus, in Campania, where Ulysses
began his journey to the grisly abodes; the Sibyl's cave at Cumæ,
in Argolis; at Tænarus, in the southern Peloponnesus, where Hercules
descended, and dragged Cerberus up to the daylight; and the cave of
Trophonius, in Lebadea, not to mention a dozen less noted places.
The Bible always speaks of hell as "down," and the Apostles' Creed tells
us that Christ "descended" into hell. Exercising his imagination on this
basis, the learned Faber discovered that after the Second Advent the
saints would dwell on the crust of the earth, a thousand miles thick,
and the damned in a sea of liquid fire inside. Thus the saints would
tread over the heads of sinners, and flowers would bloom over the lake
of damnation.
Sir John Maundeville, a most engaging old liar, says he found a descent
into hell "in a perilous vale" in Abyssinia. According to the Celtic
legend of "St. Brandon's Voyage," hell was not "down below," but in
the moon, where the saint found Judas Iscariot suffering incredible
tortures, but let off every Sunday to enjoy himself and prepare for a
fresh week's agony. That master of bathos, Martin Tupper, finds this
idea very suitable. He apostrophises the moon as "the wakeful eye of
hell." Bailey, the author of _Festus_, is somewhat vaguer. Hell,
he says, is in a world which rolls thief-like round the universe,
imperceptible to human eyes:
A blind world, yet unlit by God,
Boiling around the extremest edge of light,
Where all things are disaster and decay.
Imaginations, of course, will differ. While Martin Tupper and other
gentlemen look for hell in the direction of the moon, the Platonists,
according to Macrobus, reckoned as the infernal regions the whole space
between the moon and the earth. Whiston thought the comet which appeared
in his day was hell. An English clergyman, referred to by Alger,
maintained that hell was in the sun, whose spots were gatherings of the
damned.
The reader may take his choice, and it is a liberal one. He may regard
hell as under the earth, or in the moon, or in the sun, or in a comet,
or in some concealed body careering through infinite space. And if the
choice does not satisfy him, he is perfectly free to set up a theory of
his own.
Father Pinamonti is the author of a little book called _Hell Open to
Christians_, which is stamped with the authority of the Catholic Church,
and issued for the special edification of children. This book declares
that hell is four thousand miles distant, but it does not indicate
the direction. Anyhow, the distance is so small that the priests might
easily set up communication with the place. But perhaps it only exists
in the geography or astronomy of faith.
Father Pinamonti seems particularly well informed on this subject. He
says the walls of hell are "more than four thousand miles thick." That
is a great thickness. But is it quite as thick as the heads of the fools
who believe it?
Our belief is that hell is far nearer than the clergy teach. Omar
Khayyam, the grand old Persian poet, the "large infidel," as Tennyson
calls him, wrote as follows--in the splendid rendering of Edward
Fitzgerald:--
I sent my soul through the invisible, Some letter of that after-life to
spell, And by and bye my soul returned to me, And answered, I myself am
heaven and hell.
Hell, like heaven, is within us, and about us in the hearts of our
fellow-men. Yes, hell is on earth. Man's ignorance, superstition,
stupidity, and selfishness, make a hell for him in this life. Let us
cease, then, to dread the fabled hell of the priests, and set ourselves
to the task of abolishing the real hell of hunger, vice, and misery.
The very Churches are getting ashamed of their theological hell. They
are becoming more and more secularised. They call on the disciples of
Christ to remedy the evils of this life, and respond to the cry of the
poor for a better share of the happiness of this world. Their methods
are generally childish, for they overlook the causes of social evil, but
it is gratifying to see them drifting from the old moorings, and little
by little abandoning the old dogmas. Some of the clergy, like Archdeacon
Farrar, go to the length of saying that "hell is not a place." Precisely
so, and that is the teaching of Secularism.