abode, — the dreadful curses and blasphemies, — the insulting voices of the tormentors, and the bowlings, the groans and shrieks of the tormented, &c. And that the other senses may also come in for their share in misery, the smell shall be for ever regaled with the loathsome exhalations of those infernal dungeons, and the intolerable stench of those half putrified carcases which are broiling there: the taste shall be oppressed with a most ravenous hunger and thirst, and the feeling, with an insupportable fire.
3. Consider, that of all bodily torments, which we can suffer in this world, there is none more terrible than to burn alive: but, alas! there is no comparison between burning here, and burning in hell. All our fires upon earth are but painted flames, if compared to the fire of hell. The fire of this world was made to serve us, and to be our comfort: that of hell was created to be an instrument of God's vengeance upon sinners. The fire of this world cannot subsist without being nourished by some combustible matter, which it quickly despatches and consumes: the fire of hell, kindled by the breath of an angry God, requires no other fuel than sin; and feeds on this without ever decaying or consuming. Oh! dreadful stain of sin, which suffices to maintain an everlasting fire! The fire of this world can only reach the body: the fire of hell reaches the soul itself, and fills it with the most exquisite torments. Ah! sinners, which of you all can dwell with this devouring fire? Which of you all can endure this eternal burning?
4. Consider, and in order to frame some better notion of hell's torments, give ear to a most authentic vision, related by St. Teresa, chap, xxxii. of her life. "As I was one day," says the saint,
