not be there alone, for the presence of other lost souls will only serve to aggravate my misery. I will be forced to listen to their eternal moans and cries, and hear their hoarse voices shout blasphemies and curses against themselves, their companions, their parents; against their partners in sin, against the saints and angels and against God. Parents curse their children and children their parents, and one sinner upbraids another for causing his ruin. Such are the sounds I will have to hear, while I myself lend my voice to swell the chorus of universal woe which will proclaim God's justice as long as the choir of heaven proclaims His mercy. Weeping and gnashing of teeth and woe eternal. My sense of taste, too, shall be tortured. " They shall suffer hunger like dogs," says Holy Writ. Josephus relates that at the siege of Jerusalem, so great was the famine, that men drew lots and devoured one another and that even the mothers cooked and ate their own nurslings. That siege, Our Lord tells us, was a figure of the woe to come — the torments of hell. Gnawing hunger and a burning thirst, worse than the thirst of the famished Arab in the desert; worse than that of Christ on the cross — a thirst so consuming that the lost soul dares even to turn to God and cry out: "Father Abraham, have pity on me, send the humblest among the blessed that he may place one drop of water on my tongue to cool this raging thirst with which I am devoured." Aye and it will cry in vain, for there is no relief. Again, my sense of smell — alas! another agony; for hell is, as
