Lord of the World

I’ve just read a remarkably odd novel, Lord of the World by Robert Hugh Benson. Published in 1907 and set in the distant future—our own day, more or less—it’s a classic science fiction tale of the “If this goes on…” variety. It’s also a tale of the coming of the Anti-Christ and the End of Time. Perhaps most remarkably, it’s written by a English Catholic priest from a very Catholic point of view. (I’d love to give a copy to the fans of the Left Behind series, just to watch their heads explode.)

In Benson’s book, Europe is technologically advanced and entirely at peace with itself. All materials wants have been abolished, thanks to the efforts of the communists/socialists, who came to power across Europe in the 1920’s. Religion, though not extinct, is withering away; only Catholicism remains, a tiny remnant. The one threat is the Empire of the East, a sort of amalgam of the Japanese and Chinese empires that encompasses all of Asia and Australia; the signs are that the East may wish to add Europe and Africa to its holdings. Then arises a mysterious figure named Julian Felsenburgh, an American of great charism, oratorical skill, and political acumen. The world watches as Felsenburgh leads a party of diplomats to the East and negotiates world peace. Those who meet him are awestruck: he seems to be the perfect embodiment of Mankind, of the Spirit of the Age.

We follow the action through three figures, all from England: Oliver Brand, a Communist and Member of Parliament, one of the rising men in Government, his wife Mabel, and a Catholic priest, Fr. Percy Franklin. Brand represents the thinking of the Brave New World and its faith in Humanity; Fr. Percy, the old Faith in Christ; and Mabel the tension between the two.

In writing Lord of the World, Benson asks what would happen if the Communists really were able to create a materialist “Kingdom of Heaven” here on Earth. What if it were truly possible for mankind to feed the hungry, clothe the poor and take care of the sick, not out of Christian charity but out of faith in Mankind itself? What if it were possible to abolish all war that all men might live in peace, without reference to Christian revelation? What would happen then? What would be the effect on mankind? What would happen to the Church?

In our day, the question might seem remote. Benson wrote before the horrors of the World Wars, and especially before the Russian Revolution; in his day the Communists had nowhere come to power, and many admired their goals and idealism. The mass killings of Stalin, Hitler, Pol Pot, and the like were unforeseen. And yet, the Western Europe of our day does have its reflections in Benson’s book. Soft socialism, not hard Communism, is the order of the day; euthanasia, driven by a misplaced sense of mercy, is becoming ever more common; religion is becoming the province of the few rather than the many.

And yet, even in Benson’s far future the materialist Perfectibility of Man is but a thin veneer. In our day it is not even that.

Benson was extremely popular in his day; the son of the Archbishop of Canterbury and a high-profile convert to Catholicism, he was regarded as one of the leading lights of English Catholic letters. Nowadays, few have heard of him. You can find some of his books at Project Gutenberg.