Are silent in the pulpit and the press
So they let tens of thousands in distress
Go to the mediums, knowing not 'tis crime
Seeking to know the future's hidden time.
And so the Devil's Frauds are spreading wideWe see the Quimby-Eddy nonsense in full tide Of its prosperity-poor silly fools
All so delighted to be Satan's tools
In adding to their numbers-so inflict
On others Doctrines vain to contradict,
Each Eddy Doctrine contradicts the other.
And as the silly Fools can't understand
The Hodgepodge teaching-open mouth, they stand,
And swallow contradictions at wholesale!
And so the Fad prevails and will prevail!
As long as Gullability the rule
We'll see the Foolish flock to Eddy School-
And Satan blinds them with a cunning trick:
"Does not our Mother Mary heal the sick-
Are not there miracles within our midst ?"
Surely 'twere hard such reasoning to resist―
And yet how simple is the Devil's trick
So many Hypochondria, e'en sick
By imagination and by Demon thought!
Surely not far a healing to be sought,
A strong will power-and miracle is wrought!
The Devil tells his demons step aside
Not fret the "Scientist," let them abide
In peace and comfort, they are his, why then
Vex them with any care or thought of sin!
And so the Scientists have pleasant times
No Devil fretting, and no open crimes-
Filled with a vanity and vain conceit
Their World is very holy, pure and sweet,
The fools know not their earthly Paradise
Is shaped and fashioned by Satanic lies,
The Devil ne'er will trouble his own sheep
While in his arms they gently nod and sleep.
Christians in Eddyism see God's plan
For she is but an instrument, a fan
To winnow from True Churches worthless chaff,
Truly the churches now can give the laugh
To Satan as he cleans them of riff-raff.
For every CHRIST Believer knows full well
That Eddyism but by-path to hell,
And those who so depart were ne'er Believers
But simply were Deceived or else Deceivers.
You look on Eddyism as foolish toy
That you will in more deep designs destroy-
These little mimics that come on the stage
Lead up to swell the Demoniacal age
That yet shall burst upon a World of Sin,
And Satan's Masterpiece shall surely win
The Worship of Humanity, and all
Not written in the Book of Life shall fall
And Worship Satan's Masterpiece—and He
Shall worship Satan.
The mass of Christianity is mute—
They dream of Triumph-they to be the factors-
They thrust Christ from the stage-they are the actors.
Their vast conventions shout and roar, and roar-
As the wild breakers dash upon the shore,
With just the same result, and nothing more;
"The World for Christ! we have the Gold, the men,
Shoulder to shoulder, Brothers, we shall win-
Move upward, onward it is ours to win
Strongholds of Satan, Fortresses of sin,
Commerce, Civilization, Gospel-Three
Such combinations like a trinity
Shall sweep the world with power that none can stay
And usher in The Grand Millennium Day!
So words of CHRIST and the Apostle Paul,
Were vain in deed, for they gave no such call
To Christians, nor to Churches-never told
Without Return of Christ came age of Gold;
In their words, The Renegeration time—
(Beyond conception, vastly more sublime
Than ever yet conceived in human brain)
All hung upon the Hour CHRIST came again-
No victory sweeping, world wide in its course,
In the Church period, Satan still had force
To circumscribe the Gospel in that space,
The Gospel was elective in its Grace-
To all the free Salvation-but never word
That without Presence of The Christ our Lord
The World should acknowledge or should own
That He was Lord and Conqueror alone.
A blinded, foolish, boasting Church that ran
In her own Path-Heedless of CHRIST'S Own plan! They win the World for CHRIST! Two thousand years Have nearly ended-and we know with tears
We must confess millions of Human Race
Have never heard of CHRIST's Great Saving Grace-
We've played at missions to this very hour,
And where the Churches now should be a power
In Foreign field only a handful stands
To tell of CHRIST to Millions in far lands:
And we at home a listening to paid Choir,
In cushioned pews, proclaim our vast desire
Of Giving Gospel to the human race!
And then we frown, and even make grimace
If Minister will ask for Dollars and not cents-
He should as Dollars take our good intents-
In fact the Christian gifts in world to-day
Not equal half-cent each for Foreign Field-
But when Convention, then we shout and say:
"See by our Gifts the Powers of Satan yield,
Up, up, my Brothers, usher in the Day
When Christ by Us triumphant in the Fray!"
Ah, how you chuckle when you hear us shout,
A grin contemptuous around your mouth
Which plainly says:-"If Christ must wait for you,
You hypocritical and bragging crew,
Then Satan surely has Eternal reign
For you the Mastery will ne'er obtain!"
How oft hast Thou Familiar Spirit beenWho opened gates of soul to let thee in
Ah, 'twas a foul companionship I ween,
A base adultery of constant sin;
With a Familiar Spirit but a year
Such would most surely leave a soul all blear
With all life's sweet thoughts scorched as if by fire,
And in their place an horrible desire
For wicked doings, and more wicked thought,
Vile transformation be most surely wrought.
When first thou enter art thou not most kind-
A willing servant to thy victim's mind—
Waiting his wishes, winning his esteem
With pleasant hints by day, at night by dream,
And to the inner Man who cannot sleep,
Into the inner consciousness you creep
Painting upon the canvas of his mind
Pictures lewd, coarse-but at the first refined.
Like as a dog obedient, when he asks,
With soft alacrity performs the tasks
As if it were a task of Love to serve,
And thou wouldst never from his wishes swerve;
But with the days, the victim feels your force,
Slowly but certainly his whole life's course
Is shapen to thy wishing, to thy will,
And never does he dream of it until
Some rude shock of misconduct on his part
Reveals to him in soul, and mind, and heart,
Thou art the Master fierce, alert and stern;
Quickly the victim's terror will discern
He is the servant, dog to come and go,
As thou desireth be it fast or slow.
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