Mr. World and Miss Church-Member: A Twentieth Century Allegory — John Shaqi
Mr. World and Miss Church-Member: A Twentieth Century AllegoryHarris, W. S. (William Shuler)
Religion
Mr. World and Miss Church-Member: A Twentieth Century Allegory
Harris, W. S. (William Shuler)
Christian fiction
“These are the votes that just fell in favor of reform in a campaign
on earth. Such votes, under the panoply of prayer, strike more terror
to these kingdoms than all else combined, and the most disastrous
feature is that they go bounding from the buildings of this level ever
downward and work their ruin from kingdom to kingdom, until they have
wrought their havoc even to the lowest level. If we only knew the way
to break the power of these votes, our comrades would not then dwell
in constant dread of what might happen.”
“May you never learn that power, and may the votes of good citizenship
ever increase in number until these legislative halls shall be broken
to rise no more, and their inmates driven from their secret machinations
to the abode prepared for the Devil and his angels.”
Blackana sprang at me in great rage.
“Silence, you contemptible mortal! You have not such liberty of speech
here! Why fling insults into the face of one more powerful than
yourself?”
“_Ho, ye ten thousand!_” I shouted with all my power, and Blackana
fell backward at my very words. Sullen, but cowed, he arose to his
feet and took me to the elevators.
“Where next?” he gruffly asked.
“What is on the next level below?” I inquired.
“Greater proceedings than on this one. It is devoted to the government
of counties, cities, boroughs, and villages, and their political work.”
“Pass it by and take me to the lowest level.”
“You do not know what you ask. The lowest level is very, very deep,
and takes us where things have no weight. It is the lowest haunt outside
of Hell, inhabited by the vilest imps. How can you live or move in
such a realm?”
“Not by the futile force of human power, but by the strength of Him
who bids me go. I fear not, O Blackana; conduct me thither.”
What an awful experience followed! I was taken down at an amazing
speed, held under the great hand of Blackana. We passed region after
region of infernal lights, each one existing for the purpose of carrying
out its part of Satan’s fiendish plan.
At length we stopped in the red glare of an awful burning amidst a
company of hobgoblins out of harmony with all human shape or symmetry.
“This must be the bed of Hell, indeed,” I said, after I had conquered
my rising fears. “Far from it, far from it!” answered Blackana. “We
are now in the lowest legislative center _where foul fiends invent the
horrible laws of personal pollution in the mortal body, and political
bribery in the civil body._”
Blackana held me by the hand. I seemed not to walk but rather to move
along without effort, seeing the pictures of lowest life and ill-shaped
spirits, some of monster size.
Into an immense auditorium I was wafted, a building without foundations
or floor. Here, amidst uncanny noises, hovered a vast throng of Satan’s
lowest legislators.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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