CHAPTER X.

DARK SCHEMES OF SATAN.

1. The two companions land far down the valley on “The Midway,” whence

they take the Mountain Trolley and visit the underground Schools of

Suicide.

2. Satan’s primitive address on Literature.

The aerial car carried Mr. World and Miss Church-Member to the far end

of the Valley of Temptation where they spent a delightful season in

the pleasures of sense and sight.

They lingered mostly on the wide intervening space between the two

paths which was known in this part of the valley as “The Midway.” Here

they saw a large number of pilgrims from the King’s Highway who were

engaging in one or another of the endless amusements which can be

enjoyed without stepping altogether on the Broad Highway.

On this long Midway humanity swarmed by millions. Some, forgetful of

their vows, or regardless of their honor, stepped into the lower haunts

of vice, and offered sweet flowers of purity and fragrance in exchange

for dry and filthy husks from the floor of the stall. But Miss

Church-Member, in keeping with her moral character, did not surrender

her chastity, and although she had such continual fellowship with Mr.

World she yet held the respect of many other church-members; for it

was quite fashionable to belong to the church and still walk in the

ways of the world. Satan, under a hellish guise, offered to give, even

before death, handsome rewards to any church-member who succeeds in

carrying a certain amount of the world with him on his way to Heaven,

and multitudes were trying the experiment. Some, in hope of winning

larger prizes, were verily loaded down with the worrying weights of

the world.

Looking away from this immediate vicinity of the valley, any traveler

could see, far above the surrounding scenes, the “University of the

World,” whose front buildings crested the mountain elevations for many

miles. This imposing sight had awakened the admiration of Mr. World

and his friend, and had it not been for the countless attractions of

the Midway they would have hurriedly pushed their way to the schools,

immediately after the aerial car had carried them over the proud domes

of the University and landed them in the vale.

During one of the darker periods which now and then cover the whole

Midway with its shadows, the two companions caught the flashes of

variously-colored lights which emanated from every part of the elevated

structure, making the entire mountain appear as if a vast crown of

nature were decked with dazzling diamonds rare.

Miss Church-Member was excited by this unusual show of brilliancy, and

nothing on the lower level could any longer hold her attention.

“How can we best rise to that glorious summit?” she inquired with a

glow of enthusiasm.

“Ah,” smiled Mr. World, “surely we need not think of walking up this

mountain. Have you forgotten the obliging attendant who advised us as

we stood on the beautiful tower? Did he not direct us to take the

Mountain Trolley?”

Without delay they sought the Midway station, entered one of the

up-to-date cars, and instead of going directly to the mountain top

they were surprised to find that they were being carried into the

bowels of the mountain.

“Whence go we dashing through the dark?” asked the terror-stricken

Miss Church-Member as she held fast to Mr. World.

But ere her escort could answer they came into an immense cavern dimly

lighted. The car stopped at a station called Rest, and a voice announced

in distinct tones: “Come, ye troubled or distressed, and ye who are

disgraced! Here linger in this underground school and learn of the

rest that is for the weary.”

“What is your wish?” courteously asked Mr. World.

“I am neither in trouble nor in disgrace. Why should I tarry?”

“Only to see the lower schools before we go to the higher,” was his

winning answer.

They alighted and walked forth in the dismal light. They could readily

discern strangely shaped buildings of a costly type. The air was

stifling, and everything wore a melancholy dress; yet, withal, there

was a pleasing charm about the place. Some secret touch in the doleful

music, or some bright tinge to the ominous shadows, awakened a curiosity

and a hope in the visitors that prevented them from leaving the cavern

at once.

In a half-decided mood Mr. World and Miss Church-Member meandered

through this sickly region, and had decided to leave the place when

they saw this illuminated motto over a massive arch:

TO ALL WHO ARE DISGRACED! THE SHORTEST ROUTE TO REST! (ENTRANCE.)

A genial attendant informed Mr. World that visitors were welcome, but

Miss Church-Member consented to enter only after some hesitancy. It

was indeed a dark school, with long narrow halls where one could only

see the darker side of life. Everything about the place evidenced the

dark designs of Satan. The teachers in this infamous place, by a series

of graded instructions, suggested to their pupils that suicide was the

surest and shortest road to rest. In the darker rooms of the rear I

saw, to my horror, a scene that neither Mr. World nor Miss Church-Member

was permitted to see. _It was the daily graduating class of this school

of suicide._ Each member of the class was instructed by what new method

he might rend the strand of life with his own hand, in the desperate

and sickening hope of finding rest “where their worm dieth not, and

the fire is not quenched.”

I quickly turned from this revolting spectacle, and saw that Mr. World

and Miss Church-Member had returned to the station called Rest. They

boarded the first car and were soon speeding on through Dismal Tunnel.

It was a welcome moment when the car emerged from the darkness into

the light of day and took its winding course upward toward the microcosm

of schools, which, as seen from this side of the mountain, also

presented a picture of imposing magnitude.

When the car reached the University station Mr. World and his friend

alighted, and at once entered one of the carriages in waiting. They

were hurried away toward a group of immense structures known as the

“College of the World’s Literature;” and yet with all the immensity

of its buildings, it was but a small part of the whole University which

lay far extended over the distant mountain elevations.

As the noiseless carriage sped along I turned toward Blackana, who,

in strange muteness still tarried at my side. “I command you, O Black

Interpreter, to tell me of the origin and management of this College

of Literature.” As I spoke he turned his face in a manner that made

me tremble. His sepulchral, husky voice only added to my uneasiness.

“It originated,” he explained, “in simpler form, immediately after

Satan commenced operations on the face of the earth. Parallel with the

progress of every age it has increased to its present proportions.

That which you see is but the central point of this great educational

enterprise. Its unseen branches extend into every part of the world.

The whole system is under the control of Satan. His most learned

disciples have charge of the special departments.”

“And what is the purpose of this limitless scheme?” I further queried.

The whole organism of Blackana quivered with reluctance as if he would

not answer. “Refuse me not,” I continued, “you well know that I have

underneath me the everlasting arms.”

He was restless for a moment, angrily rolling his awful eyes. Suddenly

his attitude changed and he thus calmly answered my question: “The

purpose of all these schools is to counteract and, if possible, to

destroy the influence of the teachings of Him who is called Jesus

Christ. He was once visible in the flesh and declared that his kingdom

was everlasting. Of him it was said that he would reign till he put

all things under his feet.”

Then did Blackana add with fiery emphasis: “_Neither my master nor any

of his allies will ever be put under his feet._ Satan’s words ran wild

as he addressed the insulted hosts of Hell on this issue.” Knowing

that Blackana had a perfect memory, I commanded that he should reproduce

Satan’s address in my own dialect.

Like a flash of lightning he flung himself to the winds around me,

thereby transforming himself into the image of Satan. It appeared as

if a thousand spirits in fitful rage were dancing in mid-air.

Then his voice pealed forth the logic of Hell as Satan had spoken it

centuries before: “Have ye heard, my noble comrades, how that Heaven

flings insults into our teeth? Not satisfied that we grovel on these

remains of empire, we are further threatened with being cast miserably

under his feet. Whose feet I ask? The feet of our direst foe, whom to

worship, as he desireth, means serfdom worse than ours. Is there one

of you who will surrender his native dignity in such a fashion?”

Millions of voices rendered the air hideous with their cries, so

accurately did Blackana reproduce it all.

“I knew your sentiments,” continued he, triumph ringing in his tones.

“What can we do but stand unitedly on our rustic frontier, and push

the conquest on to farther realms. Then all Heaven will learn that we

are made of grit too fine and true to lie beneath the feet of any foe.”

As Blackana continued, I was struck with shuddering terror at his awful

gestures; but conscious that no harm could befall me, I continued

listening to his flaming oratory.

“We must arise and seize our opportunities. Go forth, under cover of

night, and sow the seed of our own growing; this will flourish in the

very soil that Christ would bring to highest cultivation. The germs

of our literature, rooted in human soil and growing secretly beneath

the surface, shall spread throughout the world and come to fruitage

in the light of every clime.

“We must build schools of literature, inspire the authors of the world

with our fine creed, and thereby spread our doctrines to the myriad

readers of every land and tongue. Who then, amongst our enemies, can

kill the appetite when once ’tis roused to craving for the carnal?

Give me the quill and the coming pen and press, and I can create thought

at my bidding and turn the main streams of human endeavor into

whatsoever channels I choose; and thus our river shall run full, while

other streams are drying.

“With such a work how can our cause grow less or we go groveling under

any foot? Impossible, my heroes! for we will live in glorious triumph

to the end of time. On to your tasks, listening multitudes, and he who

most successfully counteracts the so-called ‘Truth’ shall be a ruler

in my kingdom, and shine more brightly than the radiance of all this

region.”

Thus was the speech suddenly ended, and I heard the unearthly

reverberations of the fiendish cheering by the mighty host, while the

form of Satan vanished; but from his waning shadows Blackana came forth

and in death-like silence again resumed his sullen attitude at my side.

Mr. World and Miss Church-Member: A Twentieth Century Allegory · 第 10 / 25 章