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.”