“That will do.  Description indeed is forbidden to me; but there are certain of my experiences about which I may tell you.  So listen!  That Hell lies underneath Heaven you have doubtless heard from some one or other.  Naturally the holy dead see and hear nothing of the pains of the lost, for that would entirely spoil the joys of Paradise for them; but now and then—­I believe once a year—­it is given to the blessed to look down into Hell.  There is, however, one condition in particular attached to this privilege.  When the dome which conceals Hell from the sight of the angels is opened, it is for the relief of the condemned.  God in his mercy has decreed that the saints shall look down into the abyss in order to tell St. Peter if they see among the damned any one from whom they have received any benefit, or of whom they have even heard any good.  If the keeper of Heaven’s gate is pleased with the generous action which the lost soul performed while on earth, he has the power of shortening the time of punishment, or can even pardon it altogether, and bid it enter into Paradise.

“As for me, I arrived in Paradise on a day when Hell was open to view, and came to know, thereby, many strange things.  Ah!  That was the hardest part of my story; I trust that you have understood it?”

The narrator’s glance sought the children’s eyes once more; but this time questioningly rather than peremptorily.  When the young lips all cried “yes,” and “of course,” he smiled, nodded his massive head amiably, and continued: 

“That the angels are full of pity, and glad to relieve the misery of the unfortunate, whoever they are, and wherever they may be, goes without saying, and it will not be necessary to tell you how diligently they sought to remember some one good deed that might redound to the credit of one of the lost.  But St. Peter is a mild and just judge, and the gleaning yielded but a small return, for only a few of the angels could recall any act that was worth mentioning.  It was also granted to me to look into the place of torment, and the things I saw there were too awful.  Picture it to yourself as you will!  When I recovered from the horror that fell upon me, I recognized many men and women whom I had known on earth.  Among them were many whom I had been accustomed to consider pious and virtuous, and whom I had expected to find in a high place in Heaven, rather than there below, and yet of those very persons the Elect could recall the fewest deeds that had been done from purely generous motives.  An act was mentioned of this one or that, which on the surface seemed good, sometimes even great,—­but there on high the springs of human actions are open to view, as well as the real end, which the author had in mind, and these were always such that those who had performed the best deeds could be accredited with the least charitable intention.  Their pious works had always been executed in order to make them conspicuous in the eyes of men, or to attain for themselves some distinction, or to flatter their vanity, or to arouse the envy of their neighbours, or to contribute in some indirect way to the increase of their riches.  Perhaps you may not altogether understand what I mean; but no matter, your mother may explain as much as she thinks good for you.