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

by Marie Corelli

  Hearing a step behind me, I rose — and with a glad smile stretched out my hands to Aselzion, who had just then entered. He took them in his own and pressed them lightly — then drawing a chair opposite to mine, he sat down. His face expressed a certain gravity, and his voice when he began to speak was low and gentle.

  “I have much to tell you” — he said— “but I will make it as brief as I can. You came here to pass a certain psychic ordeal — and you have passed it successfully — all but the last phase. Of that we will speak presently. For the moment you are under the impression that you have been through certain episodes of a more or less perplexing and painful nature. So you have — but not in the way you think. Nothing whatever has happened to you, save in your own mind — your adventures have been purely mental — and were the result of several brains working on yours and compelling you to see and to hear what they chose. There! — do not look so startled!” — for I had risen with an involuntary exclamation— “I will explain everything quite clearly, and you will soon understand.”

  He paused — and I sat down again by the window, wondering and waiting.

  “In this world,” he went on, slowly— “it is not climate, or natural surroundings that affect man so much as the influences brought to bear upon him by his fellow-men. Human beings really live surrounded by the waves of thought flung off by their own brains and the brains of those around them, — and this is the reason why, if they are not strong enough to find a centre-poise, they are influenced by ways and moods of thought which would never be their own by choice and free-will. If a mind, or let us say a Soul, can resist the impressions brought to bear upon it by other forces than itself — if it can stand alone, clear of obstacle, in the light of the Divine Image, then it has gained a mastership over all things. But the attainment of such a position is difficult enough to be generally impossible. Influences work around us everywhere, — men and women with great aims in life are swept away from their intentions by the indifference or discouragement of their friends — brave deeds are hindered from accomplishment by the suggestion of fears which do not really exist — and the daily scattering and waste of psychic force and powerful mentality by disturbing or opposing brain-waves, is sufficient to make the world a perfect paradise were it used to that end.”

  He waited a moment — then bent his eyes earnestly upon me as he resumed —

  “You do not need to be told by me that you have lived on this earth before, and that you have many times been gently yet forcibly drawn into connection with the other predestined half of yourself, — that Soul of love which blindly seeking, you have often rejected when found — not of yourself have you rejected it — but simply because of the influences around you to which you have yielded. Now in this further phase of your existence you have been given another chance — another opportunity. It is quite possible that had you not come to me you would have lost your happiness again, and it was this knowledge which made me receive you, against all the rules of our Order, when I saw that you were fairly resolved. Your ordeal would have been longer had you not made the first bold advance yourself on the occasion of your entrance into our chapel. The light of the Cross and Star drew you, and your Soul obeyed the attraction of its native element. Had you opposed its intention by doubts and fears, I should have had more trouble with you than I should have cared to undertake. But you made the first step yourself with a rare courage — the rest was comparatively easy.”

  He paused again and again went on.

  “I have already said that you are under the impression of having gone through certain adventures or episodes, which have more or less distressed and perplexed you. These things have had NO EXISTENCE except in your mind! When I took you up to your room in the turret, I placed you under my influence and under the influence of four other brains acting in conjunction with myself. We took entire possession of your mentality, and made it as far as possible like a blank slate, on which we wrote what we chose. The test was to see whether your Soul, which is the actual You, could withstand and overcome our suggestions. At first hearing, this sounds as if we had played a trick upon you for our own entertainment — but it is not so, — it is merely an application of the most powerful lesson in life — namely, THE RESISTANCE AND CONQUEST OF THE INFLUENCES OF OTHERS, which are the most disturbing and weakening forces we have to contend with.”

  I began to see clearly what he meant me to understand, and I hung upon his words with eager attention.

  “You have only to look about you in the world,” he continued— “to realise the truth of what I say. Every day you may meet some soul whose powers of accomplishment might be superb if it were not for the restricting influences to which it allows itself to succumb. How often do you not come upon a man or woman of brilliant genius, who is nevertheless rendered incompetent by opposing influences, and who therefore lives the life of a bird in a cage! Take the thousands of men wrongly mated, whose very wives and children drag them down and kill every spark of ambition and accomplishment within them! Take the thousands of women persuaded or forced into unions with men whose low estimate of woman’s intellect coarsens and degrades her to a level from which it is almost impossible to rise! This is the curse of ‘influences’ — the magnetic currents of other brains which set our own awry, and make half the trouble and mischief in the world. Not one soul in a hundred thousand has force or courage to resist them! The man accustomed to live with a wife who without doing any other harm, simply kills his genius by the mere fact of her daily contact, moods, and methods, makes no effort to shake himself free from the apathy her influence causes, but simply sinks passively into inaction. The woman, bound to a man who insists on considering her lower than himself, and often pulled this way and that by the selfish desires or aims of her children or other family belongings, becomes a mere domestic drudge or machine, with no higher aims than are contained in the general ordering of household business. Love, — the miraculous touchstone which turns everything to gold, — is driven out of the circle of Life with the result that Life itself grows weary of its present phase, and makes haste to seek another more congenial. Hence proceeds what we call age and death.”

  I was about to interrupt by an eager question — but he silenced me by a gesture.

  “Your position,” he went on— “from a psychic standard, — which is the only necessary, because the only lasting attitude, — is that of being brought into connection with the other half of your spiritual and immortal Ego, — which means the possession of perfect love, and with it perfect life. And because this is so great a gift, and so entirely Divine, influences are bound to offer opposition in order that the Soul may make its choice VOLUNTARILY. Therefore, when I, and the other brains acting with me, placed you under our power, we impressed you with all that most readily shakes the feminine mind — doubt, jealousy, suspicion, and all the wretched terrors these wretched emotions engender. We suggested the death of Rafel Santoris as well as his treachery, — you heard, as you thought, voices behind a wall — but there were no voices — only the suggestion of voices in your mind. You saw strange phantoms and shadows, — they had no existence except in so far as we made them exist and present themselves to your mental vision. You wandered away into unknown places, so you imagined, — but as a matter of fact you NEVER LEFT YOUR ROOM!”

  “Never left my room!” I echoed— “Oh, that cannot be!”

  “It can be, because it is!” he answered me, smiling gravely— “The only thing in your experience that was REAL was the finding of the book ‘The Secret of Life’ — in the purple-draped shrine. Here it is” — and he took it up from the table on which it lay— “and if you had turned it over a little more, you would have found this” — and he read aloud —

  “‘All action is the material result of Thought. Suffering is the result of THINKING INTO PAIN — disease the result of THINKING INTO WEAKNESS. Every emotion is the result of wrong or right THINKING, with one exception — Love. Love is not an Emotion but a Principle, and as the g
enerator of Life pervades all things, and is all things. Thought, working WITHIN this Principle, creates the things of beauty and lastingness, — Thought, working OUTSIDE this Principle, equally creates the things of terror, doubt, confusion, and destruction. There is no other Secret of Life — no other Elixir of Youth — no other Immortality!’”

  He pronounced the last words with gentle and impressive emphasis, and a great sweetness and calm filled my mind as I listened.

  “I — or I should say we — for four of my Brethren were deeply interested in you on account of the courage you had shown — we took you up to the utmost height of endurance in the way of mental terror — and, to our great joy, found your Soul strong enough to baffle and conquer the ultimate suggestion of Death itself. You held firmly to the truth that there is NO death, and with that spiritual certainty risked all for Love. Now we have released you from our spells!” — and his eyes were full of kindness as he looked at me— “and I want to know if you thoroughly realise the importance of the lesson we have taught?”

  I met his enquiring glance fully and steadily.

  “I think I do,” — I said— “You mean that I must stand alone?”

  “Alone, yet not alone!” — he answered, and his fine face was transfigured into light with its intense feeling and power— “Alone with Love! — which is to say alone with God, and therefore surrounded by all god-like, lasting and revivifying things. You will go back from this place to the world of conventions, — and you will meet a million influences to turn you from your chosen way. Opinion, criticism, ridicule, calumny and downright misunderstanding — these will come out against you like armed foes, bristling at every point with weapons of offence. If you tell them of your quest of life and youth and love, and of your experience here, they will cover you with their mockery and derision — if you were to breathe a word of the love between you and Rafel Santoris, a thousand efforts would be instantly made to separate you, one from the other, and snatch away the happiness you have won. How will you endure these trials? — what will be your method of action?”

  I thought a moment.

  “The same that I have tried to practise here” — I answered— “I shall believe nothing of ill report — but only of good.”

  He bent his eyes upon me searchingly.

  “Remember,” he said— “what force there is in a storm of opinion! The fiercest gale that ever blew down strong trees and made havoc of men’s dwellings is a mere whisper compared with the fury of human minds set to destroy one heaven-aspiring soul! Think of the petty grudge borne by the loveless against Love! — the spite of the restless and unhappy against those who have won peace! All this you will have to bear, — for the world is envious — and even a friend breaks down in the strength of friendship when thwarted or rendered jealous by a greater and more resistless power!” I sighed a little.

  “I have few friends,” — I said— “Certainly none that have ever thought it worth while to know my inner and truest self. Most of them are glad to be my friends if I go THEIR way — but if I choose a way of my own their ‘friendship’ becomes mere quarrel. But I talk of choosing a way! How can I choose — yet? You say my ordeal is not over?”

  “It will be over to-night,” — he answered— “And I have every hope that you will pass through it unflinchingly. You have not heard from Santoris?”

  The question gave me a little thrill of surprise.

  “Heard from him? — No” — I replied— “He never suggested writing to me.”

  Aselzion smiled.

  “He is too closely in touch with you to need other correspondence,” — he said— “But be satisfied that he is safe and well. No misadventure has befallen him.”

  “Thank God!” I murmured. “And — if—”

  “If he loves you no more,” — went on Aselzion— “If he has made an ‘error of selection’ as the scientists would say, and is not even now sure of his predestined helper and inspirer whose love will lift him to the highest attainment — what then?”

  “What then? Why, I must submit!” I answered, slowly— “I can wait, even for another thousand years!”

  There was a silence, during which I felt Aselzion’s eyes upon me. Then he spoke again in a lighter tone.

  “Let us for the moment talk of what the world calls ‘miracle’” — he said— “I believe you are just now conscious of perfect health, and of a certain joy in the mere fact of life. Is it not so?”

  Smiling, I bent my head in acquiescence.

  “Understand then” — he continued— “that while you control the life-forces of which you are made, by the power of an all-commanding spirit, this perfect health, this certain joy will continue. And more than this — everything in Nature will serve you to this end. You have but to ask your servants and they will obey. Ask of the sun its warmth and radiance, — it will answer with a quick bestowal — ask of the storm and wind and rain their powers of passion, — they will give you their all, — ask of the rose its fragrance and colour, and the very essence of it shall steal into your blood, — there is nothing you shall seek that you will not find. Try your own powers now!” — and with the word he got up and opened the window a little wider, then signed to me to step out on the balcony— “Here are roses climbing up on their appointed way — bend them to-wards you by a single effort of the will!”

  I gazed at him in complete surprise and bewilderment. His answering looks were imperative.

  “By a single effort of the will!” he repeated.

  I obeyed him. Raising my eyes to the roses where they clambered upwards round the loggia, I inwardly commanded them to turn towards me. The effect was instantaneous. As though blown by a light breeze they all bent down with their burden of bright blossom — some of the flowers touching my hands.

  “That would be called ‘miraculous’ by the ignorant,” said Aselzion— “And it is nothing more than the physical force of the magnetic light-rays within you, which, being focused in a single effort, draw the roses down pliantly to your will. No more miracle is there in this than that of the common magnet which has been vainly trying to teach us lessons about ourselves these many years. Now, relax your will!”

  Again I obeyed, and the roses moved gently away and upward to their former branching height.

  “This is an object lesson for you,” — said Aselzion, smiling then— “You must understand that you are now in a position to draw everything to you as easily as you drew those roses! You can draw the germs of health and life to mix and mingle with your blood — or — you can equally draw the germs of disease and disintegration. The ACTION is with you. From the sun you can draw fresh fuel for your brain and nerves — from the air the sustenance you demand — from beautiful things their beauty, from wise things their learning, from powerful things their force — NOTHING can resist the radiating energy you possess if you only remember HOW to employ it. In every action it must be focused on the given point — it must not be disturbed or scattered. The more often it is used the more powerful it becomes — the more all-conquering. But never forget that it must work WITHIN the Creative Principle of Love — not outside it.”

  I sat absorbed and half afraid.

  “And to-night — ?” I said, softly.

  He rose from his chair and stood up to his full superb stature, looking down upon me with a certain mingling of kindness and pity.

  “To-night,” — he replied— “we shall send for you! You will confront the Brethren, as one who has passed the same mental test through which they are passing! And you will face the last fear! I do not think you will go back upon yourself — I hope not — I strongly desire you to keep your courage to the end!”

  I ventured to touch his hand.

  “And afterwards?” I queried.

  He smiled.

  “Afterwards — Life and its secrets are all with you and Love!”

  XX. INTO THE LIGHT

  When I was left alone once more I gave myself up to the enchanting sense of perfect happiness that no
w seemed to possess my whole being. The world of glorious Nature showed me an aspect of brilliancy and beauty that could no more be shadowed by fear or foreboding — it was a mirror in which I saw reflected the perfect Mind of the Divine. Nothing existed to terrify or daunt the advancing Soul which had become cognisant of its own capabilities, and which, by the very laws governing it, is preordained to rise to the utmost height of supernal power. I had dimly guessed this truth — but I had never surely known it till now. Now, I recognised that everything is and must be subservient to this interior force which exists to ‘replenish the earth and subdue it’ — and that nothing can hinder the accomplishment of its resolved Will. As I sat by the window thinking and dreaming, I began to wonder what would be the nature of that ‘last fear’ of which Aselzion had spoken? Why should the word ‘fear’ be mentioned, when there was no cause for fear of any kind? Fear can only arise from a sense of cowardice, — and cowardice is the offspring of weakness. From this argument it followed that my strength was not yet thoroughly tested to Aselzion’s satisfaction, — that he still thought it possible that some latent weakness in my spirit might display itself on further trial. And I resolved that if such was his idea, he should be proved wrong. Nothing, I vowed, should move me now — not all the world arrayed in arms against me should hinder my advance towards the completion of myself in the love of my Beloved!

  I have already said that there was no visible chronicle of time in the House of Aselzion, save such as was evidenced by the broadening or waning light of day. Just now I knew it was late afternoon, as the window where I sat faced the west, and the sun was sinking in a blaze of glory immediately opposite to me. Bars of gold and purple and pale blue formed a kind of cloud gateway across the heavens, and behind this the splendid orb shone in a halo of deep rose. Watching the royal pageantry of colour on all sides, I allowed myself to go forth as it were in spirit to meet and absorb it, — inwardly I set my whole being in tune with the great wave of light which opened itself over the sea and land, and as I did so found every nerve in my body thrilled with responsive ecstasy, even as harpstrings may be thrilled into sound by the sweep of the wind. I rose and went out, through the loggia into the garden — feeling more like a disembodied spirit than a mortal, so light and free and joyous were my very movements — so entirely in unison was I with everything in Nature. The sunset bathed me in its ruby and purple magnificence, — I lifted my eyes to the heavens and murmured almost unconsciously— “Thank God for Life! Thank God for Love! Thank God for all that Life and Love must bring to me!”