Delphi Collected Works of Marie Corelli (Illustrated) (Delphi Series Eight Book 22)

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Delphi Collected Works of Marie Corelli (Illustrated) (Delphi Series Eight Book 22) Page 788

by Marie Corelli


  ON THE COMMAND OF LIFE’S FORCES

  and began thus:

  “To live long you must have perfect control of the forces that engender life. The atoms of which your body is composed are in perpetual movement, — your Spiritual Self must guide them in the way they should go, otherwise they resemble an army without organisation or equipment, easily put to rout by a first assault. If you have them under your spiritual orders you are practically immune from all disease. Disease can never enter your system save through some unguarded corner. You may meet with accident — through the fault of others or through your own wilfulness, — if through your own wilfulness, you have only yourself to blame — if through the fault of others, you may know that it was a destined and pre-ordained removal of yourself from a sphere for which you are judged to be unfitted. Barring such accident, your life need know no end, even on this earth. Your Spirit, called the Soul, is a Creature of Light — and it can supply revivifying rays to every atom and cell in your body without stint or cessation. It is an exhaustless supply of ‘radium’ from which the forces of your life may draw perpetual sustenance. Man uses every exterior means of self-preservation, but forgets the interior power he possesses, which was bestowed upon him that he might ‘replenish the earth and subdue it.’ To ‘replenish’ the earth is to give out love ungrudgingly to all Nature, — to ‘subdue’ the earth, is first, to master the atoms of which the human organisation is composed, and hold them completely under control, so that by means of this mastery, all other atomic movements and forces upon this planet and its encircling atmosphere may be equally controlled. Much is talked of the ‘light rays’ which pierce solid matter as though it were nothing but clear air — yet this discovery is but the beginning of wonders. There are rays which divine metals, even as the hazel wand divines the presence of water, — and the treasures of the earth, the gold, the silver, the jewels and precious things that are hidden beneath its surface and in the depth of the sea can be seen in their darkest recesses by the penetrating flash of a Ray as yet unknown to any but adepts in the Psychic Creed. No true adept is ever poor, — poverty cannot exist where perfect control of the life forces is maintained. Gladness, peace and plenty must naturally attend the Soul that is in tune with Nature and life is always perpetuated from the joy of life.

  “Stand, therefore, O patient Student, erect and firm! — let the radiating force of the Soul possess every nerve and blood-vessel of the body, and learn to command all things pertaining to good with that strength which compels obedience! Not idly did the Supreme Master speak when He told His disciples that if their faith were but as a grain of mustard seed they could command a mountain to be cast into the sea, and it would obey. Remember that the Spirit within your bodily house of clay is Divine, and of God! — and that with God all things are possible!”

  I raised my head from its bent position over the book, and drew a long breath — something oppressed me with a sense of suffocation, and looking up I saw that I was being steadily closed in, as by a contracting cage. The little room, draped with its soft purple hangings, was now too small for me to move about, I was pinned to my chair, and the ceiling was apparently descending upon me. With a shock of horrified memory I recalled the old torture of the ‘living tomb’ practised by the Spanish Inquisition, when the wretched victim was compelled to watch the walls of his prison slowly narrowing round him inch by inch till he was crushed to death. How could I be sure that no such cruelties were used among the mysterious members of a mysterious Brotherhood, whose avowed object of study was the searching out of the secret of life? I made an effort to rise, and found I could stand upright — and there straight opposite to me was the entrance to my own room from which I had wandered into this small inner chamber. It seemed easy enough to get there, and yet — I found myself hindered by an invisible barrier. I stood, with my heart beating nervously — wondering what was my threatening danger. Almost involuntarily my eyes still perused the printed page of the book before me, and I read the following sentences in a kind of waking dream: —

  “To the Soul that will not study the needs of its immortal nature, life itself becomes a narrow cell. All God’s creation waits upon it to supply what it shall demand, — yet it starves in the midst of plenty. Fear, suspicion, distrust, anger, envy and callousness paralyse its being and destroy its action, — love, courage, patience, sweetness, generosity and sympathy are actual life-forces to it and to the body it inhabits. All the influences of the social world work AGAINST it — all the influences of the natural world work WITH it. There is nothing of pure Nature that will not obey its behest, and this should be enough for its happy existence. Sorrow and despair result from the misguidance of the Will — there is no other cause in earth or heaven for any pain or trouble.”

  Misguidance of the Will! I spoke the words aloud — then went on reading —

  “What is Heaven? A state of perfect happiness. What is Happiness? The immortal union of two Souls in one, creatures of God’s eternal light, partaking each other’s thoughts, bestowing upon each other the renewal of joy, and creating loveliness in form and action by their mutual sympathy and tenderness. Age cannot touch them — death has no meaning for them, — life is their air and space and movement — life palpitates through them and warms them with colour and glory as the sunshine warms and reddens the petals of the rose — they grow beyond mortality and are immune from all disaster — they are a world in themselves, involuntarily creating other worlds as they pass from one phase to another of production and fruition. For there is no good work accomplished without love, — no great triumph achieved without love, — no fame, no victory gained without love! The lovers of God are the beloved of God! — their passion is divine, knowing no weariness, no satiety, no end! For God is the Supreme Lover and there is nothing higher than Love!”

  Here, on a sudden impulse, I took up the book, closed it and held it clasped in my two hands. As I did this, a great darkness overwhelmed me — a sound like thunder crashed on my ears, and I felt the whole room reeling into chaos. The floor sank, and I sank with it, down to a great depth so swiftly that I had no time to think what had happened till the sensation of falling stopped abruptly, and I found myself in a narrow green lane, completely shadowed by the wide boughs of over-arching trees. Hardly could I realise my surroundings when I saw Rafel! — Rafel Santoris himself walking towards me — but — not alone! The eager impulse to run to him was checked — I stood quiet, and cold to the heart. A woman was with him — a woman young and very beautiful — his arm was round her, and his eyes looked with unwearied tenderness at her face. I heard his voice — caressing, and infinitely gentle.

  “Beloved!” he said— “I call you by this name as I have always called you through many cycles of time! Is it not strange that even the eager spirit, craving for its preordained mate, is subject to error? I thought I had found her whom I should love a little while before I met you — but this was a momentary blindness! — YOU are the one I have sought for many centuries! — YOU are the one and only beloved! — promise never to leave me again!” She answered — and I heard her murmur, soft as a sigh— “I promise!” Still walking together like lovers, they came on — I knew they must pass me, — and I stood in their way that Rafel Santoris at least might see me — might know that I had adventured into the House of Aselzion for his sake, and that so far I had not failed! If he were false, then surely the failure would be his! With a sickening heart I watched him approach, — his blue eyes rested on me carelessly with a cold smile — his fair companion glanced at me as at a stranger — and they moved on and passed out of sight. I could not have spoken, had I tried — I was stricken dumb and feeble. This was the end, then? I had made my journey to no purpose, — he had already found another ‘subject’ for his influence!

  Stunned and bewildered with the confusion of thought in my brain, I tried to walk a few paces, and found the ground soft as velvet, while a cool breeze blowing through the trees refreshed my aching forehead and eyes. I still held
the book— ‘The Secret of Life’ — and in a dull, aimless way thought how useless it was! What does Life matter if Love be untrue? The sun was shining somewhere above me, for I saw glinting reflections of it through the close boughs, and there were birds singing. But both beauty of sight and beauty of sound were lost to me — I had no real consciousness left save that the lover who professed to love me with an eternal love loved me no more! So the world was desolate, and heaven itself a blank! — death, and death alone seemed dear and desirable! I walked slowly and with difficulty — my limbs were languid, and I had lost all courage. If I could have found my way to Aselzion I would have told him— “This is enough! No more do I need the secret of youth or life, since love has left me.”

  Presently I began to think more coherently. A little while back I had heard voices behind a wall saying that Rafel Santoris was dead, — drowned in his own yacht ‘off Armadale, in Skye.’ If that was true how came he here? I questioned myself in vain, — till presently I gathered up sufficient force to remember that love — REAL love — knows no change. Did I believe in my lover’s love, or did I doubt it? That was a point for my own consideration! But, had I not the testimony of my own eyes? Was I not myselt the witness of his altered mind?

  Here, seeing a rustic seat under one of the shadiest trees, I sat down, and my mind gradually steadied itself. Why, I inwardly asked, had I been so suddenly and forcibly brought into this place for no apparent reason save to look upon Rafel Santoris in the company of another woman whom it seemed that he now preferred to me? Ought that to make any difference in my love for him? “In love, if love be love, if love be ours, Faith and unfaith can ne’er be equal powers, Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all.” If the happiness of the one I loved was obtained through other means than mine, ought I to grudge it? And yet! — my heart was full of a sick heaviness, — it seemed to me that I had lately been the possessor of an inestimable joy which had been ruthlessly snatched from me. Still meditating in solitary sadness, I sat in the soft gloom wondering at the strange chance that had brought me into such a place, and, curiously enough, never thinking that the whole adventure might be the result of a pre-ordained design.

  Presently, hearing slow footsteps approaching, I looked up and saw an aged man walking towards me, accompanied by a woman of gentle and matronly appearance who supported him on her arm. The looks of both these personages were kindly, and inspired confidence at a glance, — and I watched them coming with a kind of hope that perhaps they might explain my present dilemma. I was particularly attracted by the venerable and benevolent aspect of the man — and as he drew near, seeing that he evidently intended to speak to me, I rose from my seat, and made a step or two forward to meet him. He inclined his head courteously, and smiled upon me with a grave and compassionate air.

  “I am very glad,” — he said, in a friendly tone— “that we have not come too late. We feared — did we not?” here he looked to his companion for confirmation of his words— “that you might have been hopelessly ensnared and victimised before we could come to the rescue.”

  “Alas, yes!” said the woman, in accents of deep pity; “And that would have been terrible indeed!”

  I stared at them both, utterly bewildered. They spoke of rescue, — rescue from what? ‘Hopelessly ensnared and victimised.’ What did they mean? Since I had seen Rafel Santoris with another woman he called ‘beloved’ — I had felt almost incapable of speech — but now I found my voice suddenly.

  “I do not understand you” — I said, as clearly and firmly as I could— “I am here by my own desire, and I am not being ensnared or victimised. Why should I need rescue?”

  The old man shook his head compassionately.

  “Poor child!” he said— “Are you not a prisoner in the House of Aselzion?”

  “With my own consent,” — I answered.

  He lifted his hands in a kind of appealing astonishment, and the woman smiled sadly.

  “Not so!” — she told me— “You are under a very serious delusion. You are here by the wicked will of Rafel Santoris — a man who would sacrifice any life remorselessly in the support of his own mad theories! You are under his influence, you poor creature! — so easily trapped, too! — you think you are following your own way and carrying out your own wishes, but you are really the slave of Santoris and have been so ever since you met him. You are a mere instrument on which he can play any tune.” And she turned to the old man beside her with an appealing gesture— “Is it not so?”

  He bent his head in the affirmative.

  For a moment my brain was in a whirl. Could it be possible that what they said was true? Their looks were sincere, — they could have no object but kindness in warning me of intended mischief. I tried to conceal the torturing anxiety that possessed me, and asked quietly— “If you have good reason to think all this, what would you advise me to do? If I am in danger how shall I escape from it?”

  The woman looked curiously at me, and her eyes glittered with sudden interest. Her venerable companion replied to my question —

  “Escape is quite easy here and now. You have only to follow us and we will take you out of this wood and escort you to a place of safety. Then you can return to your own home and forget—”

  “Forget what?” I interrupted him.

  “All this foolishness” — he answered, with a gentle seriousness— “This idea of eternal life and love which the artful conjurer Rafel Santoris has instilled into your too sensitive and credulous imagination — these fantastic beliefs in the immortality and individuality of the soul, — and you will accept old age and death with the sane resignation of ordinary mortals. Such love as he professes to believe in does not exist, — such life can never be, — and the secret of his youth—”

  “Ah!” I exclaimed eagerly— “Tell me of that! And of Aselzion’s splendid prime when he should be old and feeble? Tell me of that also!”

  For the first time during this interview, my two companions looked confused. I saw this, and I gained confidence from their evident embarrassment.

  “Why,” I pursued— “should you come to me with warnings against those whom God or Destiny has brought into my life? You may perhaps say that you yourselves have been sent by God — but does Deity contradict Itself? I am not conscious of having suffered any evil through Rafel Santoris or through Aselzion — I am pained and perplexed and tortured by what I hear and see — but my hearing and sight are capable of being deceived — why should I think of evil things which are not proved?”

  The woman surveyed me with sudden scorn.

  “So you will stay here, the dupe of your own sentiments and dreams!” — she said, contemptuously— “You, a woman, will remain among a community of men who are known impostors, and sacrifice your name and reputation to a mere chimera!”

  Her look and manner had completely changed, and I was at once on my guard.

  “My name and reputation are my own to protect,” — I answered, coldly— “Whatever I do I shall be ready to answer for to anyone having the right to ask.”

  The old man now advanced and laid his hand on my arm. His eyes sparkled angrily.

  “You must be saved from yourself” — he said, sharply, “You must come with us whether you will or no! We have seen too many victims of Aselzion’s art already — we are resolved to save you from the peril which threatens you.”

  And he made an effort to draw me closer to him — but my spirit was up and I held back with all my force.

  “No, I will not go with you!” I exclaimed, hotly— “God alone shall remove me from harm if any harm is really meant towards me. I do not believe one word you have said against Rafel Santoris or against Aselzion — I love the one, and I trust the other! — let me go my own way in peace!”

  Hardly had I spoken these words when both the old man and woman threw themselves upon me and seizing me by force, endeavoured to drag me away with them. I resisted with all my strength, still holding tightly the book of the ‘Secret of Life’ in one ha
nd. But their united efforts were beginning to overpower me, and feeling myself growing weaker and weaker I cried aloud in desperation:

  “Rafel! Rafel!”

  In an instant I stood free. My captors loosed their hold of me, and I rushed away, not knowing whither — only running, running, running, afraid of pursuit — till I suddenly found myself alone on the borders of a dark stretch of water spreading away in cold blackness to an unseen horizon.

  XVIII. DREAMS WITHIN A DREAM

  I stopped abruptly, brought perforce to a standstill. There was nothing but the black water heaving in front of me with a slow and dizzying motion and faintly illumined by a dim, pearly light like that of a waning moon. I looked behind me, fearing my persecutors were following, and saw that a thick mist filled the air and space to the obliteration of everything that might otherwise have been visible. I had thought it was day, and that the sun was shining, but now it appeared to be night. Utterly fatigued in body and mind, I sank down wearily on the ground, close to the edge of the strange dark flood which I could scarcely see. The quiet and deep obscurity had a lulling effect on my senses — and I thought languidly how good it would be if I might be allowed to rest where I was for an indefinite time.

  “I can understand” — I said to myself— “why many people long for death and pray for it as a great blessing! They have lost love — and without love, life is valueless. To live on and on through cycles of time in worlds that are empty of all sweetness, — companionless and deprived of hope and comfort — this would be hell! — not heaven!”

  “Hell — not heaven!” said a voice near me.

  I started and looked up — a shadowy figure stood beside me — that of a woman in dark trailing garments, whose face shone with a pale beauty in the dim light surrounding us both.

 

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