1. Depression of Miss Church-Member
2. The Merry Village.
3. The Famous Cross Roads.
4. The Devil’s Auction.
As Mr. World and Miss Church-Member proceeded on their journey they were frightened by a man who, with his hands uplifted and agony pictured on his face, came running toward them, shouting: “Let good sense control you and go no farther! Enchantment, spirits, witches, and unnamed hobgoblins dwell in every part of this hideous valley!”
“Oh, terror! What can this mean?” nervously asked Mr. World, as the stranger stood panting for breath.
“All a mystery! Even the air is filled with poison and weird music. I am thankful that I have escaped with my life.”
“Come, come, Mr. Sin-Sick, tell us more about it. We may thereby profit greatly,” said Mr. World with more composure.
As Mr. World and his companion were entering the valley
of Conviction a terrified man came running towards them. He ran away
from the preaching of the gospel.
“I had just been traveling farther down the valley of Thoughtfulness and Conviction when I heard multitudes shouting praises to One whom they called their Redeemer, each waving aloft a banner bearing the imprint of a cross. On the cross I saw these words: ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ When I came nearer to the confusion I was suddenly seized with a peculiar conviction which brought grief to my soul; and, had I not made this timely retreat, I might have been brought under the power of those strange creatures. Oh, take heed and go with me some other way.”
Mr. World readily consented, but Miss Church-Member was inclined to continue, confessing that she had once been a singer in such a valley, and surely no harm could befall them there. Mr. World thought it was the part of wisdom not to oppose her at this time, although he feared that she might be induced to leave him. He consented to go, pretending that it made no difference to him which way he traveled; but, as they walked on, the wary fellow was very careful not to step from the Broad Path.
When they came in sight of the valley Miss Church-Member lifted her glasses to test the strength of her eyes. Memory brought stinging grief to her heart. She commenced sighing for the old paths and also wept that she had for so long a time abetted her former enemies.
Her companion became alarmed at the new turn. “Be not so fool-hardy,” he warned. “Your eyes are being needlessly ruined. Quickly replace those glasses lest you become totally blind.”
She obeyed promptly and thus the intensity of conviction passed. Had her spiritual ears been open, she might have heard an angel sadly singing:
“Oh, hear the song of love that fills the air!
Oh, heed the voice that pleads in touching prayer!
Both fall upon your conscience now in vain,
Through vile deceit your nobler self is slain.”
In this vale she heard the word of God preached powerfully, and the calling of the Holy Spirit in unmistakable sweetness, but how could it affect one who wore such treacherous glasses and who considered her condition so favorable?
She passed through the valley with her faithful friend without being lured from the Broad Highway.
On the verge of the valley I saw a curiously shaped building and read these words over it:
TONS OF LAUGHTER: CHEAP ADMISSION.
A man with a strong voice stood along the path and cried out: “Whoa! Whoa! Ye travelers of this way! Come hither and drive away your cruel cares. Here is the greatest exhibition in the world. Smile and walk lightly, laugh and grow fat!”
Mr. World and his associate, however, did not enter this place, but passed on through the entire Merry Village. On each side of the way they saw an endless variety of gaudy advertisements, each one setting forth some leading feature of some frivolous, indecent, or gay performance.
Miss Church-Member was not tempted as was her companion to spend time at such places. So he, in order to hold her company, sacrificed his desires and passed on without complaint.
I now turned and spoke to Blackana who still mutely sat at his appointed post. “Tell me the meaning of the Merry Village being located so near the Valley of Conviction.”
Without the faintest murmur he replied: “Many of the millions who pass through the valley are strangely affected with a sad countenance and a heavy heart, which indeed drive them into a frenzy so that they go toward the King’s Highway. Satan intends by the attractions of the Merry Village to divert the thought of all such travelers and hold them in the bounds of the Broad Highway. You will soon come to the path on which more people go to the narrow, rugged way than on all other paths combined. Were it not for this happy village, and the places beyond, many more would drop out of our ranks.”
I doubted not the words of Blackana, and as I looked out again upon the Broad Highway, I saw that the two companions had just left the Merry Village and had come to the well beaten road leading to the right.
Here stood a preacher who, in tearful earnestness, urged all travelers to go the right way. I saw many heeding his words and go running on the new way after throwing away many cumbrous things.
At this place I saw some parting with their friends. One, in particular, I noticed who was pleading with another not to go, and ever clinging to him in bodily strength. Many who desired to leave the Broad Highway were similarly prevented.
In the fork of the road stood a number of large churches in each of which services were held every hour of the day. These were the Devil’s churches, and were supplied by a courteous and shrewd class of ministers. On the left side of the way was a large garden and a series of groves, each filled with a merry throng of pleasure-seekers. Bands of music made the air resonant, and every device known to the world of sport could be found in full fling in these varied resorts where intoxicating drink was the main beverage, and dancing and gambling were the chief delights.
The Broad Highway was especially wide at this junction. It led onward between the Devil’s churches and the pleasure grounds.
The greatest confusion prevailed on this wide area. Many missionaries from the King’s Highway were busily engaged in speaking to the throngs that had come through the Valley of Conviction.
There were also many friends of the Devil, in vulgar attire, persuading the multitudes to rest in the joyful grove, while other agents of Satan, in more saintly manner, urged attendance upon the church services.
Thus I observed the heedless throng from the Valley of Conviction being attracted by the music and passing through the pleasure grounds, while an alarmingly large number attended the churches in the fork of the roads. A few stoics, without pausing, passed on along the Broad Highway.
Only a few, comparatively, could be persuaded to turn their steps toward the King’s Highway.
Mr. World and Miss Church-Member stood for a long time watching the ever-changing panorama of the surging crowds. He was desirous of visiting the groves, but Miss Church-Member was too piously inclined. So they were halting between these two desires when a saintly looking person approached them.
“To what place are you journeying?” the beautiful stranger asked.
“We are journeying to a place called Heaven,” promptly answered Miss Church-Member.
“Congratulations, indeed,” spoke the stranger as he smiled. “You belong to the better class of travelers. Some, I fear, who go this way will miss Heaven. They are too much attracted by the frivolities of life and never have a desire to go to church.”
“But we love the church,” spoke up Mr. World. “However we have had little time and no opportunity to enter one for some time.”
“You are welcome to the services in one of yonder buildings,” said the stranger as he pointed toward the group of the Devil’s churches. “There you can listen with pleasure and profit to the latest style of preaching, and the special music will prove entertaining. You should, without fail, attend church, or you will never increase in spiritual knowledge.”
Without further hesitation the two pushed their way through the crowd and entered one of the churches where they were greeted warmly and ushered to a prominent seat.
The minister had already begun to speak and was growing eloquent as he warmed to his theme. They listened with absorbing interest to every word that fell from his lips.
“Into this church,” the minister said, “come the wearied of heart, troubled perchance with inward fears resulting from the weird occurrences along the pathway through the Valley of Conviction. We bid you cast aside your thoughts of trouble and be at peace. There is a calmness you should covet untouched by such conviction.
“They who sing and preach in that valley are low subjects of ignorance and folly, and happy for you if you succeed in totally forgetting all you saw or heard while passing through. Why should you worry about your condition? Are you not good enough? You have come hither from respectable parents, perhaps received Christian baptism, and can easily distinguish between right and wrong. Why should cruel daggers now pierce your heart? What you have done or expect to do is surely pleasing to your God. If you belong to the church, you are doubly safe. Let time change, or worlds fall, the church will stand forever. If you continue faithful here, you will have a glorious end; only be not influenced by the contemptible advocates of the Narrow Way, who show their vanity by their professions of superior sanctity. Be satisfied with the good, old, staid principles of this church, and be not swept away by every wind of doctrine that is blasting the earth with its sulphurous breath. Rejoice in your pilgrimage and let conviction no longer sadden your life.”
After continuing at some length in this strain, the minister announced that a quartette would render an appropriate selection just received from the mountain-tops of Apathy.
The Devil’s Auction Here many church members, and others,
pay their all for a few baubles of worldly pleasure.
The congregation seemed to be greatly pleased as these words were sung with a show of sentiment:
“Come, ye that struggle
With thoughts of conviction;
Continue no longer
Such burdens to bear.
Throw off forever
This needless affliction;
And taste of the pleasures
That wisdom would share.
“There’s rest for the soul
In blissful forgetting;
’Tis bought by the prudent
At moderate cost.
Then cast to the winds
Thy worry and fretting,
And live in the sunshine
Where shadows are lost.”
At the conclusion of the services Mr. World conducted his friend from the church, and as they were moving again toward the surging crowds they heard the voice of an auctioneer.
“Let us tarry a moment,” he urged as he turned his footsteps to that part of the Broad Highway known as the Devil’s Auction.
A large company of men, women, and children were giving earnest heed to the auction which had been in progress all day.
The auctioneer held in his hand a gaudy bauble of worldly pleasure. He cried in the full strength of his voice that such beautiful specimens of pleasure were very rare. At once the bidding for it grew lively. It was soon thrown out to a reckless mortal who seized it with unusual avidity.
Then a door was opened in the rear, and lo, I beheld a series of rooms filled with baubles of every conceivable kind, enough to satisfy all who came for such lightsome things. One of extraordinary beauty was next offered. “What do I hear for it?” lustily shouted the auctioneer.
The whole host bent forward eagerly to get a nearer view of the new attraction.
“I’ll give one hour of time!” said an aged man.
“An hour of time is bid, an hour of time! Who’ll give more?”
“I’ll give one day!” joyously bid a thoughtless youth. He received it, and walked off in high glee.
“Here is another! A novelty just out!” boldly cried the auctioneer.
How anxiously all stepped forward, each one wishing to scrutinize the latest kind of pleasure offered.
The highest bidder was a restless youth who offered his all for the coveted prize.
Miss Church-Member was but little interested in these proceedings and urged her companion to the next auction-stand where certain rights and privileges were sold.
On the stand stood a glib-tongued fellow who announced that he would first offer for sale the _Right to Sell Intoxicating Drink_. “How much do I hear?” shouted the auctioneer as the cosmopolitan crowd looked on.
“Hundred dollars per annum!” cried the people of one state.
“One hundred, one hundred, going at one hundred!”
“Two hundred dollars!” bid the representatives of another state.
“Three hundred dollars!” was another offer that immediately came in.
“That is far below the value!” shouted the auctioneer. “Remember, all this money we get for licensing the saloon will go for charity or to help educate and civilise the people!”
Thousands upon thousands cheered to the echo, while the wicked auctioneer and his allies were highly pleased at the spectacle.
“Three hundred, three hundred! Altogether too low a sum for so great a privilege!”
“Five hundred dollars!” cried the authorities of another state.
“Going at five hundred, five hundred, five hundred!” rapidly and hilariously yelled the auctioneer, and the crowd cheered lustily.
“Still going at five hundred, five hundred! Who’ll give six hundred? First, second, and last warning, and sold at five hundred dollars to
Thus the program continued, and the right to sell liquor under respectability was sold at varying prices. Mr. World and Miss Church-Member left long before the auction was ended. They paused not at the other centers where Satan’s agents were selling their worthless and death-dealing merchandize to the children of men.
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