Actually, the content of his theology was that there was a supreme being
who had tried to make us perfect, but presumably had failed; that if one
was a Good Man he would go to a place called Heaven (Babbitt
unconsciously pictured it as rather like an excellent hotel with a
private garden), but if one was a Bad Man, that is, if he murdered or
committed burglary or used cocaine or had mistresses or sold
non-existent real estate, he would be punished. Babbitt was uncertain,
however, about what he called “this business of Hell.” He explained to
Ted, “Of course I’m pretty liberal; I don’t exactly believe in a
fire-and-brimstone Hell. Stands to reason, though, that a fellow can’t
get away with all sorts of Vice and not get nicked for it, see how I
mean?”
Upon this theology he rarely pondered. The kernel of his practical
religion was that it was respectable, and beneficial to one’s business,
to be seen going to services; that the church kept the Worst Elements
from being still worse; and that the pastor’s sermons, however dull they
might seem at the time of taking, yet had a voodooistic power which “did
a fellow good--kept him in touch with Higher Things.”
His first investigations for the Sunday School Advisory Committee did
not inspire him.
He liked the Busy Folks’ Bible Class, composed of mature men and women
and addressed by the old-school physician, Dr. T. Atkins Jordan, in a
sparkling style comparable to that of the more refined humorous
after-dinner speakers, but when he went down to the junior classes he
was disconcerted. He heard Sheldon Smeeth, educational director of the
Y.M.C.A. and leader of the church-choir, a pale but strenuous young man
with curly hair and a smile, teaching a class of sixteen-year-old boys.
Smeeth lovingly admonished them, “Now, fellows, I’m going to have a
Heart to Heart Talk Evening at my house next Thursday. We’ll get off by
ourselves and be frank about our Secret Worries. You can just tell old
Sheldy anything, like all the fellows do at the Y. I’m going to explain
frankly about the horrible practises a kiddy falls into unless he’s
guided by a Big Brother, and about the perils and glory of Sex.” Old
Sheldy beamed damply; the boys looked ashamed; and Babbitt didn’t know
which way to turn his embarrassed eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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