Books: Mr. World and Miss Church Member
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W. S. Harris >> Mr. World and Miss Church Member
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The manager then conducted Mr. World into another office where the
doctor was just giving medical attention to a young lady who was
suffering with spiritual quinsy. It was so severe that she could not
testify for Christ, and she wilfully passed by the "Great Physician"
who could have healed her blessedly. She also passed by all the angels
of mercy who throng the King's Highway. She turned a deaf ear to all
the singers who sang, "Then why will ye die?" Finally she was heavily
pressed by her disease and, seeing a physician's office which she could
enter without climbing a step, she went in and chose rather to be
treated by a doctor of the Devil, as if dead to all the offers of mercy
which she had rejected.
She accepted his treatment without question, and even felt at ease in
conscience, thinking that the easy, bland method of this physician was
in every way preferable to the searching methods adopted by the Healer
Divine.
She regained her voice, but it lost that sweet accent of heaven which
once had characterized it. It was now difficult and embarrassing for
her to pronounce the name of Jesus.
All this proved painful and intolerable, so she took a by-path to the
left called "Unchastity" where she found a whole vocabulary of speech
more suited to her utterance.
She spent the rest of her days in the habitations of immorality along
the Broad Highway, unmindful of the tears and kindly solicitude of her
entreating friends.
Into the third medical wing the two went only to see the fiendish
program carried on there as in the other offices. The first patient
they saw was a young man who, through the misguidance of a weakling,
was persuaded to enter the office.
This physician, with a smile on his face, but vile purpose in his
heart, administered wilfully the very medicine that gave a transient
gratification to the patient's craving for narcotics, and which would
finally cause the appetite to break out anew into an inward burning
and gnawing, swinging a master's sash over him.
The physician told him that his taste was inherited, and it would
consequently require much patience ere he could be cured. He gave him
the devilish medicine, and urged him to continue using it until the
bottle was drained to its dregs.
At first it gave the promised relief, but the young man, now more
deeply contaminated by this concoction of Hell, raged in wilder passion
than ever, and verily ran to his utmost on the By-Path of intemperance
until the flower of his youth and manhood was blasted to the blackest,
and his sense of honor lost in the hovels of vice and corruption which,
in great variety, stood along the Broad Highway.
The book-keepers of Hell placed an additional mark to the credit of
this doctor, while the church looked on the young man's fall somewhat
indifferently, having been hardened by the frequency of similar
occurrences.
At the request of Mr. World the manager conducted him back to the
hospital building and proceeded to show the various departments to him.
There was some commotion in one of the operating rooms just as Mr.
World entered. It proved to be the preliminary work necessary for
dressing a severe scalp wound.
It happened that a certain woman, named Mrs. Criticiser, who belonged
to an active church, attempted to injure a good and holy man by hurling
stones at him.
She noticed that the little stones did him no harm, so she seized one
of larger size and hurled it at him with great force. He, being a pure
man, and standing on a rock, was not even touched by the missile. But
it struck the great rock on which he was standing, rebounded with
unexpected force, and struck the head of Mrs. Criticiser with stunning
effect.
It was seen that the stone had made an ugly gash on her head, more
severe and painful than she intended to inflict on the good Mr. Class
Leader. Her friends, being acquainted with the Devil's Hospital,
naturally carried her there for necessary attention.
Mr. World saw Mrs. Criticiser brought into the room in a semi-conscious
condition and watched the whole operation.
The surgeon declared that a scar would be carried on her head all
through life. Indeed there is no balm in Hell to cure the wounded head
or heart so as not to leave a scar. Had she gone to the "Great
Physician," and asked Him aright to apply the "Balm of Gilead," her
head would have been healed aright.
The manager then escorted Mr. World into one of the wards which was
crowded to overflowing.
They tarried at the bedside of a man whose left arm and right leg were
bandaged. There lay the poor fellow awaiting the slow processes of
healing for his fractured bones.
It was on this wise that this man, a certain Mr. Treacherous, came to
this sorry plight.
He was an ambitious member of the church, and aimed to be elected to
an office therein. His admirers were too few, so the majority vote was
given for another, named Mr. Wisdom.
This so aroused the jealousy of Mr. Treacherous that he was moved to
seek amends for what he considered a stinging and crushing defeat.
"This will I do," said he, "I will dig a deep ditch across Mr. Wisdom's
path of success, and will shrewdly cover it from view, and as he chances
along that way, in the course of his service, he will surely fall into
this ditch to his hurt. Then will I glory in his downfall, so that the
stings of this, my defeat, will not prick me so sharply."
So Mr. Treacherous, in the blackness of the night, digged the ditch
and covered it ingeniously. Then he waited day after day to hear of
Mr. Wisdom's injury or death, that he might have cause for rejoicing.
Now Mr. Treacherous, since his defeat, was so heavily weighed down
with envy and a desire for revenge that he could not sleep soundly,
and was wont to walk about the house in a somnambulistic manner.
One night, under the influence of one of these strange spells, he went
from the house and walked over the path that led to the ditch.
To his great dismay and double disgrace he waked not until his body
struck the bottom of the ditch. He was bruised and some of his bones
were broken. Thus he lay there in agony and cried all night long for
help.
Ere the morning broke he wished a thousand times that he had not dug
the ditch so deep, or rather, had not dug it at all.
A band of searchers found him and, lifting him from his disgrace, they
hurried him to this hospital, for he was not minded to humble himself
still more by going to another place where Mr. Wisdom and his kind
found relief in time of trouble.
It is likely that Mr. Treacherous will never be able to walk again as
perfectly as he did before, for it is the reputation of surgeons and
physicians of this hospital, in dealing with cases of such extreme
folly, that they so manipulate an operation as to render the patient
incapable of complete recovery.
Mr. World and his congenial escort moved on from patient to patient,
passing many hundreds who had met with accidents on the Broad Highway.
Many had been wounded by the "sword of the Spirit" and were now hoping
to be cured by the processes here in vogue.
In passing on through another ward their attention was called to a
woman who lay on a couch and seemed to be suffering more than she was
able to bear.
Mr. World inquired concerning her, and was told that she was one Miss
Busy-Body, a member in good standing of a radical church. She came to
her grief in this strange manner: she had a special aptitude for
sweeping before other people's doors, and could always find dirt, even
if she could not find anything better.
She had been told repeatedly to sweep before her own door, but she did
not heed this wise counsel, for she often said that there was no dirt
visible about her own home.
One day she went forth as usually, broom in hand, and swept the dirt
from other doors than her own, much to the annoyance and provocation
of her neighbors, for she always raised the dust incontinently.
Now by her continual neglect at home the filth had accumulated to such
an extent that when she returned home and attempted to enter the door,
her foot slipped on the greasy step, and she fell, breaking her collar
bone, two of her ribs, and otherwise injuring herself.
The manager told Mr. World that many such cases came to them for help
every day--some from the King's Highway and still more from the Broad
Highway.
They soon came to the bedside of one named Mr. Jealousy who occupied
a private room. He was somewhat convalescent when Mr. World saw him.
Mr. Jealousy at one time was an active member of the church, but he
undertook to stab Mr. Stability in the back. But Mr. Stability had a
good back-bone so strong that no knife that Mr. Jealousy could handle
was able to penetrate it.
One time in desperation Mr. Jealousy flung himself violently upon his
imaginary foe. But his blade broke, and he himself fell upon it, cutting
a terrible gash in his side. He was taken to this hospital for help.
Thus did Mr. Jealousy bring upon himself the disfavor of his church
and he was forthwith expelled, for he refused to give the required
promise of reformation.
Mr. World and the manager now came to a large door.
"In this room," said the manager, "we keep all our cancer patients.
We have a large number of them and, since they require special
treatment, we keep them separate to facilitate the work of the
physicians and nurses."
I saw them enter the room, and heard the words of surprise that fell
from the lips of Mr. World as he saw the magnitude of this department.
"These are they," explained the chief of the division, "who came here
through 'profane and vain babblings.'"
Mr. World then passed through the leprosy ward where he saw quite a
few who were once cleansed by the Divine Healer, but who, failing to
give thanks for their recovery, suffered fatal relapse and were now
in the last stages of this dread disease.
This place was so loathsome to him that he was hastened into the General
Department where he saw all manner of patients, each in his particular
dilemma.
A great number of this section were suffering from disordered livers,
and of these not a few came from the church.
One such, who was a wealthy man, had so far protruded his
disagreeableness upon the community that the church officials
voluntarily gave him medicine for his liver. This was of no avail. He
still grew more irritable and complained about the preacher, the sexton,
the choir, and even his own wife. The weather never suited him, and
when lie gave any testimony about religion it was always a partial
outline of the supposed or real sorrows and troubles of the Christian
pilgrimage.
While suffering from one of his morbid spells, he listened to the voice
of the tempter who persuaded him to seek help at the hands of the
physicians under the control of this Hospital. These doctors dosed him
until they persuaded him to submit to an operation, and the wicked
surgeon knew how to render him still more liable to trouble after his
imaginary restoration toward which he was looking when Mr. World saw
him.
When he leaves this Hospital he can never be cured from the fiercer
subsequent attacks unless he be born again, and such an event Satan
knows is very unlikely to occur.
Mr. World, in passing, spoke to quite a few who were suffering from
spiritual dyspepsia, consumption, and a great number of other ailments
which had developed into chronic form, or had made necessary the
surgeon's cruel knife, and then, turning to his obliging friend, asked
if he could not now see Miss Church-Member.
He was taken into a special department arranged for those who were
convalescent.
When she saw her faithful and loving friend, Miss Church-Member smiled
for the first time since the operation.
The pleasant interview soon ended at the behest of the nurse, and Mr.
World was asked if he wished to enter the secret departments
underground. This question aroused his curiosity and led to a lengthy
conversation after which he expressed a desire to visit the secret
chambers.
He was conducted into a dark office and asked to sign a pledge that
lay on a desk.
CHAPTER XXIII.
SATAN'S SECRET SERVICE.
1. While Miss Church-Member is convalescent, Mr. World alone visits
the underground apartments where secret sins are taught.
2. The last horrible stages of vice represented.
I saw Mr. World standing in a shadowy room and reading the conditions
of entering "Satan's Secret Service." He was soon surprised by hearing
a voice from a gloomy corner: "You cannot gain entrance to these secret
abodes unless you sign that pledge."
"The meaning of the pledge is not clear to me. Who will explain it?"
asked Mr. World somewhat tremulously.
"You can read between those lines all you wish. Those sentences must
be their own interpreters, and you must choose to sign or withdraw
from this room, just as you prefer," came the firm answer from the
dark corner.
Before Mr. World could decide what particular course to take, a hand
gently touched his shoulder. He turned to see who stood in the rear.
"O, Mr. World, thou needst not fear to sign the pledge and enter the
secret service of our great and glorious master," were the words that
greeted him in a friendly tone.
"Who art thou, and how camest thou here?" asked Mr. World in suspense.
"I came here from 'going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up
and down in it.'" Then, without uttering another word, the strange
visitor lifted the pledge from the desk and read it audibly:
"Into these darker chambers let me go,
I promise to conceal its scenes of woe,
And solemnly declare, as here I stand,
That I will aid this secret working band."
"What can there be about that pledge not suited to your wish? It means
that you are to have your eyes opened to behold new things, and also
to learn the secret laws of life, healthful to your marrow and your
bones."
Mr. World hesitated no longer. He signed the document forthwith, and
a pass-word was whispered into his ear.
Suddenly a door opened at one end of the room, through which Mr. World
walked into a large cavern which was illuminated only by faint
glimmerings of light.
He could discern faintly that many creatures were there whose uncanny
noises, freighted with oaths and blasphemies, sent their sulphurous
fumes around. Although Mr. World was accustomed to foul scenes and
profanity, yet he was sickened at this deeper touch of Hell.
"Where am I and how came I here?" he cried out excitedly. A woman came
quickly in response to his outcry.
"You are in a place of liberty and personal license," she answered.
"Here you are free from the annoyances of narrow-minded pilgrims from
the King's Highway, and you may spend a season in pure delight in these
secret abodes which you will find more and more suited to the cravings
of your natural heart and mind."
Now Mr. World was a somewhat judicious man, and although he would not
sanction what he called church fanaticism, yet he had some self-respect,
and had never allowed himself to reach the slum-level of society.
"Here I cannot and will not stay. Are there no other apartments to
which I can go?" he asked, as the woman offered him a glass of wine,
and in a sensual way entreated him to remain.
Mr. World was a lover of wine, but was suspicious of the place, and
so he moved to go and found great difficulty in getting to another
door, which, at last, he reached only by determination, and, giving
a pass-word, he went into the first regular department of Satan's
Secret Service.
This place, which was secretly connected with the Wizard City, was one
of Satan's centers from which originated schemes and devices to commit
and practice embryonic murder.
I saw in this dark cavern the sons and daughters of earth, high and
low, noble and ignoble, and my heart bled within at what I further
witnessed.
Mr. World passed through from one section to another, studying carefully
the secret processes in vogue, while illustrations, drawn by the artists
of the Devil, instead of sending the blush of shame to his cheek, only
fed his inner curiosity and verily aroused his baser passions.
Having finished, he gave the pass-word and was admitted to a
sub-department called Foeticide.
This section, and the one he had just left, were located directly under
the physicians' offices along the King's Highway. It could be seen
that there was direct connection between these offices and the horrible
subterraneous apartments through which Mr. World was now passing.
So many unnatural and horrible things were practiced in this sub-
department that Mr. World was shocked beyond measure, for he had never
dreamed of the extent of the malpractice to which his eyes here bore
testimony.
All these things, while at first revolting, were only hardening his
own heart to such an extent that, before he had passed through the
last wing of the department, and heard the apologetic words of those
who were in charge, he concluded that these agencies conduced to much
good.
"Oh!" thought I, "how the light of Hell casts a strange coloring over
the things of earth, thereby creating false theories of mortal life."
By means of the pass-word Mr. World was enabled to visit the next
department where he witnessed sights more revolting than in any place
previously entered. Here groveled the youth under the power of so-called
stimulating medicaments.
Mr. World, with all his wickedness, was chilled with horror at these
underground spectacles.
Noticing his evident disgust, one came to him and offered soothing
explanations to which he listened very attentively.
"This is a blessed place," spoke the newcomer. "We, who are skilled
in crime, give the youthful an expert training in the ways of pollution
and kindred types of immorality. It is far better to teach the young
to sin aright and with least damage to themselves, than to place them
under all restraint and see them fall more wretchedly than these."
With all the moral turpitude of Mr. World he was scarcely ready, at
first hearing, to accept this grinding sophistry of Hell.
"Are you quite sure, my friend, doubted Mr. World, that you are speaking
words of soberness to me? Do you feel proud of the results of the work
here accomplished?"
"Proud indeed, for our master has given us encomiums for the splendid
work accomplished. You see, Mr. World, it is a settled fact that young
people will sin, notwithstanding all the influence exerted to the
contrary. Such as we can persuade we take under our direction, and
try, as soon as possible, to harden them in personal crime. Our
physicians have special medicines to inflame their propensities, so
that they may, by continual burning, consume themselves and spare the
youth from otherwise being tormented day and night in these flames of
passion. Are you so dull, Mr. World, that you cannot grasp such
self-evident truth?"
"It seems now somewhat clearer to my mind, but still my eyes behold
such horrid scenes around me."
"I cannot question that," continued the smooth-tongued agent of
darkness, "yet what you see are but the lower stages. If you could
look beyond these dark corridors and see the types of womanhood which
grow out of this under-soil, you would no longer breathe in doubt or
look with shuddering frame on scenes around you. All good things come
forth through putrefaction. Then why should you despise the
putrefaction? Be content, Mr. World, and as you walk along the path
of life, remember this great College underground, and recommend its
salient features to the rising generation. You have signed the pledge
and promised to aid this secret working band. So do it with a vim,
keeping in view the blossoms and the fruit of after-growth."
Mr. World was completely won by this false and devilish reasoning, and
looked on the whole program of shame quite philosophically.
He took full cognizance of the far-reaching effects of this section
and, after an interview with one of the head physicians, he proceeded
to visit the next section.
But what he saw there will not be told. No pen can describe and no
tongue relate the loathsome filth of this last stage of immorality.
An awful stench filled the air arising from medicines of last resort
and from the putrefying flesh that clothed the living skeletons.
It was by mistake that Mr. World got into this place. The door opened
to admit a few "Unfortunates," as they were called by the attendants,
and Mr. World, standing near by, entered without permission.
He was no sooner inside the door than he was frantically seized by a
sunken-eyed creature.
"O man of health, deliver me from this inner eating and from the grave
that opens to me its mouldy mouth!" was the heart-rending cry that
grated on the ears of Mr. World.
Another, hearing this pleading cry, came rushing toward the same spot
and sobbed piteously:
"Oh! Mr. World, have pity on me! I had help when I had means and
vitality. Oh! give me some relief now."
Mr. World was so terror-stricken that he could not speak, but struggled
with all his might to escape from the place.
He gained double strength, but of no use. These two men imagined that
they had a claim on him by reason of his name, and therefore held on
with tightening grasp. For a moment Mr. World ceased his struggling
and looked at his two pitiable beseechers.
"I can give you nothing. Why torment me thus?" he tremblingly gasped
with abated breath.
"In our better days we gave all we had to the world and now we need
help. Surely you can give it." They became furious and ranted the more
at the thought of their past folly.
"Why come to me? Go to Mr. Flesh, or ask the Devil for help," pleaded
Mr. World.
"We have served the World, the Flesh, and the Devil. All have failed
us miserably. To whom else can we go but to anyone within our reach?
Oh! forsake us not in this awful plight!"
Poor Mr. World, unable longer to bear the sickening and threatening
attack, sank to the filth-covered floor and groaned aloud.
At once a fierce and powerful being came to the rescue and, flinging
the two unfortunates aside, lifted Mr. World to his feet and looked
down upon him with his awful eyes.
Mr. Intemperance lay crouching near the side of Mr. Lust, each smarting
under the pain of his fall.
"How came you to this place?" sternly asked the monster.
"By walking in at the door," answered the terrified Mr. World.
"Without permission?" he further asked.
"There was no one there to ask, and I, being out sight-seeing, thought
I might also enter in here."
The monster seized Mr. World by the arms and looked at him in a still
more frightful manner.
"You are not yet ready to come into this region, and if you will
solemnly pledge me that you will never reveal what you have seen here,
I will conduct you safely to the door; if not, you must remain here
without a ray of hope until death gives relief."
Mr. World humbled himself and gave double assurance of secrecy. Then
the grim creature conducted him a little to one side and bade him look
down into a deep and dark yawning chasm.
"Down there," commenced the Old Monster, "runs the Black River deep
and wide. The stream, coming from its distant source, drains the filthy
realm of human society, and not far hence it enters into the boundless
ocean of eternal death. The wild sounds which you hear are the unseen
dashings of its never-ceasing waves, and the moans of those who have
fallen victims to its merciless currents."
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE LAST WARNING.
1. Miss Church-Member is now induced to frequent the haunts of vice
in the "Wicked Valley."
2. The blessed work of Warning as given by rescue bands from the King's
Highway.
3. The heedless throngs passing by.
4. The experiences at this place of Mr. World and Miss Church-Member.
There was a joyful meeting in the reception room of the Hospital when
Mr. World, returning from his underground experiences, met his beloved
friend Miss Church-Member who had recovered sufficiently to resume the
journey.
In joyful spirits they sauntered forth on the wide and pleasant path,
away from the Hospital and toward their imaginary Heaven.
Miss Church-Member's face was more cheerful and her footsteps more
buoyant than at any time since she left the Valley of Conviction.
Mr. World, observing her favorable condition, complimented her with
these words: "Blessed be the memory of that Hospital, for I can see
that your face is no more covered with the cloud of care that once
robbed you of so many joys. The unkind intruder has drifted away, and
now the light radiates from your every feature. It is also plainly
evident that you are no more tormented by a troubled conscience."
"I am glad that my sufferings have not been in vain," she modestly
declared. "May the new light which you so readily notice in my face
add to the pleasantness of our journey and the profit of our lives."
Their conversation grew more and more pleasant as they passed through
a long stretch of woodland. They could see beyond, them, and in the
rear, the legions that were traveling the same path and in the same
direction.
Emerging from the woodland they saw that their path came again in close
proximity to the King's Highway.
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