Lost in his thoughts, he sat down upon a coil of rope, and went to sleep.  During his sleep, he had a vision.  He seemed to hear the sound of a clanging trumpet, and the sky became blood red, and he knew that the day of judgment had come.  Whilst he was fervently praying to God, he saw an enormous monster coming towards him, bearing on its forehead a cross of light, and he recognised the sphinx of Silsile.  The monster seized him between its teeth, without hurting him, and carried him in its mouth, as a cat carries a kitten.  Paphnutius was thus conveyed across many countries, crossing rivers and traversing mountains, and came at last to a desert place, covered with scowling rocks and hot cinders.  The ground was rent in many places, and through these openings came a hot air.  The monster gently put Paphnutius down on the ground, and said—­

“Look!”

And Paphnutius, leaning over the edge of the abyss, saw a river of fire which flowed in the interior of the earth, between two cliffs of black rocks.  There, in a livid light, the demons tormented the souls of the damned.  The souls preserved the appearance of the bodies which had held them, and even wore some rags of clothing.  These souls seemed peaceful in the midst of their torments.  One of them, tall and white, his eyes closed, a white fillet across his forehead, and a sceptre in his hand, sang; his voice filled the desert shores with harmony; he sang of gods and heroes.  Little green devils pierced his lips and throat with red-hot irons.  And the shade of Homer still sang.  Near by, old Anaxagoras, bald and hoary, traced figures in the dust with a compass.  A demon poured boiling oil into his ear, yet failed, however, to disturb the sage’s meditations.  And the monk saw many other persons, who, on the dark shore by the side of the burning river, read, or quietly meditated, or conversed with other spirits while walking,—­like the sages and pupils under the shadow of the sycamore trees of Academe.  Old Timocles alone had withdrawn from the others, and shook his head like a man who denies.  One of the demons of the abyss shook a torch before his eyes, but Timocles would see neither the demon nor the torch.

Mute with surprise at this spectacle, Paphnutius turned to the monster.  It had disappeared, and, in place of the sphinx, the monk saw a veiled woman, who said—­

“Look and understand.  Such is the obstinacy of these infidels, that, even in hell, they remain victims of the illusions which deluded them when on earth.  Death has not undeceived them; for it is very plain that it does not suffice merely to die in order to see God.  Those who are ignorant of the truth whilst living, will be ignorant of it always.  The demons which are busy torturing these souls, what are they but agents of divine justice?  That is why these souls neither see them nor feel them.  They were ignorant of the truth, and therefore unaware of their own condemnation, and God Himself cannot compel them to suffer.