Anticipations of the reaction of mechanical and scientific progress upon human life and thoughtWells, H. G. (Herbert George)
History
Anticipations of the reaction of mechanical and scientific progress upon human life and thought
Wells, H. G. (Herbert George)
Civilization; Communication and traffic; Social prediction; Twentieth century -- Forecasts
of the urban centre, and athwart the shining advertisements that will
adorn them, will go the ceremonial procession, all glorious with banners
and censer-bearers, and the meek blue-shaven priests and barefooted,
rope-girdled, holy men. And the artful politician of the coming days,
until the broom of the New Republic sweep him up, will arrange the
miraculous planks of his platform always with an eye upon the priest.
Within the ample sheltering arms of the Mother Church many eccentric
cults will develop. The curious may study the works of M. Huysmans to
learn of the mystical propitiation of God, Who made heaven and earth, by
the bedsores of hysterical girls. The future as I see it swarms with
Durtals and Sister Teresas; countless ecstatic nuns, holding their Maker
as it were _in deliciae_, will shelter from the world in simple but
costly refuges of refined austerity. Where miracles are needed, miracles
will occur.
Except for a few queer people, nourished on "Maria Monk" and suchlike
anti-papal pornography, I doubt if there will be any Protestants left
among the irresponsible rich. Those who do not follow the main current
will probably take up with weird science-denouncing sects of the
faith-healing type, or with such pseudo-scientific gibberish as
Theosophy. Mrs. Piper (in an inelegant attitude and with only the whites
of her eyes showing) has restored the waning faith of Professor James in
human immortality, and I do not see why that lady should stick at one
dogma amidst the present quite insatiable demand for creeds. Shintoism
and either a cleaned or, more probably, a scented Obi, might in vigorous
hands be pushed to a very considerable success in the coming years; and
I do not see any absolute impossibility in the idea of an after-dinner
witch-smelling in Park Lane with a witchdoctor dressed in feathers. It
might be made amazingly picturesque. People would attend it with an air
of intellectual liberality, not, of course, believing in it absolutely,
but admitting "there must be Something in it." That Something in it!
"The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God," and after that he is
ready to do anything with his mind and soul. It is by faith we
disbelieve.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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