I rose to my feet and confronted her.
“Where all things end!” I repeated— “Surely where life exists there is no end?”
She gave me a fleeting smile.
“Life is a dream,” — she said— “And the things of life are dreams within the dream! There are no realities. You imagine truths which are deceptions.”
I looked at her in wonder and bewilderment. She was beautiful — and the calm sadness of her eyes expressed compassion and tenderness.
“Then — is Creation a lie?” I asked.
She made no immediate answer, but pointed with one hand towards the dark water. I looked, and uttered a cry of ecstasy — there, shining in the heaving blackness like a vision from fairyland, was the ‘Dream’ — glittering from stem to stern with light that sparkled like millions of diamonds!
“Your Dream of Love!” said the woman beside me— “Behold it for the last time!”
With straining eyes and beating heart I watched — and saw the shining vessel begin to sink slowly into the deep watery blackness — down, down still lower, till only her masts were visible — then something defiant and forceful sprang up within me, — I would master this torture, I thought — I would not yield to the agony that threatened to drive me to utter despair.
“This is a phantom of sorrow!” — I said— “It has no meaning! The love that is in my heart is my own! — it is my life, my soul, my inmost being! — it is eternal as God Himself, and to Him I commend it!”
I spoke these words aloud, holding the book of the ‘Secret of Life’ clasped to my breast — and raised my eyes trustfully to the dense darkness which should have been the sky. Then I felt the woman’s hand on mine. Her touch was warm and gentle.
“Come!” she said, softly.
And I saw a small boat slip out on the gloomy water, guided towards me by One whose face was hidden in a fold of black. My companion drew me with her and signed to me to enter. Something in myself, as well as in her looks, impelled me to obey, and as she stepped into the boat I followed. We were borne along in silence for what seemed to me a long time, till suddenly I began to hear strange sounds of wailing, and shuddering cries of appeal, and our darkness was lightened by the drifting to and fro of pale forms that were luminous and human in shape though scarcely of human resemblance.
“What are these?” I whispered.
My companion took my hand and held it.
“Listen!” she answered.
And gradually, out of a clamour of weeping and complaint, I heard voices which uttered distinct things.
“I am the Phantom of Wealth” — said one— “For me men and nations have rushed on destruction, — for me they have sacrificed happiness and missed the way to God! For me innocence has been betrayed and honour murdered. I am but a Shadow, but the world follows me as if I were Light — I am but the gold dust of earth, and men take me for the glory of Heaven!”
“I am the Phantom of Fame” — said another— “I come with music and sweet promises — I float before the eyes of man, seeming to him an Angel! — I speak of triumph and power! — and for me brave hearts have broken, and bright spirits have been doomed to despair! I am but a Shadow — but the world believes me Substance — I am but a breath and a colour, but men take me for a fixed Star!”
“I am the Phantom of Pride!” — said a third voice— “For me humanity scales the height of ambition — for my sake king’s and queens occupy uneasy thrones, and surround themselves with pomp and panoply — for me men lie and cheat and wrong their neighbours — for me the homes that should be happy are laid waste — for me false laws are made and evil conquers good I am but a Shadow — and the world takes me for the Sun! — I am but a passing flash of light, and men take me for the perfect Day!”
Other voices joined in and echoed wildly around me — and I rose up in the boat, loosing my hold from the clasp of the woman who was with me.
“You are phantoms all!” I cried, half unconscious of my own words— “I want God’s angels! Where is Love?”
The voices ceased — the strange flitting figures that wailed round me faded away into mist, and disappeared — and a light, deep and golden and wonderful, began to shine through the gloom. My companion spoke.
“We have been looking at dreams,” — she said— “You ask for the only Real!”
I smiled. A sudden inrush of strength and authority possessed me.
“You bade me look my last upon my dream of Love!” I said— “But you knew that was impossible, for Love is no dream!”
The golden radiance widened into a perfect splendour, and our boat now glided over a shining sea. As in a vision I saw the figure that steered and guided it, change from darkness to brightness — the black fold fell from its face — Angel eyes looked at me — Angel lips smiled! — and then — I found myself suddenly alone on the shore of a little bay, blue as a sapphire in the reflection of the blue sky above it. The black stretch of water which had seemed so dreary and impassable had disappeared, and to my astonishment I recognised the very shore near the rock garden which was immediately under my turret room. I looked everywhere for the woman who had been in the boat with me — for the boat itself and its guide — but there was no trace of them. Where and how far I had wandered I could not imagine — but presently, regaining nerve and courage, I began to fancy that perhaps my strange experience had been preordained and planned as some test of my faith and fortitude. Had I failed? Surely not! For I had not doubted the truth of God or the power of Love! There was only one thing which puzzled me, — the memory of those voices behind a wall — the voices which had spoken of Rafel’s death and treachery. I could not quite rid myself of the anxiety they had awakened in my mind though I tried hard not to yield to the temptation of fear and suspicion. I knew and felt that after all it is the voices of the world which work most harm to love — and that neither poverty nor sorrow can cut the threads of affection between lovers so swiftly as falsehood and calumny. And yet I allowed myself to be moved by vague uneasiness on this account, and could not entirely regain perfect composure.
The door of the winding stair leading to my room in the turret stood open — and I availed myself of this tacit permission to return thither. I found everything as I had left it, except that when I sought for the mysterious little room hung with purple silk, where I had begun to read the book called ‘The Secret of Life,’ a book which through all my strange adventure I still had managed to keep with me, I could not find it. The walls around me were solid; there was no sign of an opening anywhere.
I sat down by the window to think. There before my eyes was the sea, calm, and in the full radiance of a brilliant sun. No mysterious or magic art suggested itself in the visible scene of a smiling summer day. Had I been long absent from this room, I wondered? I could not tell. Time seemed to be annihilated. And so far as I myself was concerned I desired nothing in this world or the next save just to know if Rafel Santoris still lived — and — yes! — one other assurance — to feel that I still possessed the treasure of his love. All the past, present and future hung on this possibility, — there was nothing more to hope for or to attain. For if I had lost Love, then God Himself could give me no comfort, since the essential link with Divine things was broken.
Gradually a great and soothing quietude stole over me and the cloud of depression that had hung over my mind began to clear. I thought of my recent experience with the man and woman who had sought to ‘rescue’ me, as they said, and how when in sheer desperation I had called “Rafel! Rafel!” they had suddenly disappeared and left me free. Surely this was a sufficient proof that I was not forgotten by him who had professed to love me? — and that his aid might still be depended upon? Why should I doubt him?
I had placed my book, ‘The Secret of Life,’ on the table when I re-entered my room — but now I took it up again, and the pages fell open at the following passage: —
“When once you possess the inestimable treasure of love, remember that every effort will be
made to snatch it from you. There is nothing the world envies so much as a happy soul! Those who have been your dearest friends will turn against you because you have a joy in which they do not share, — they will unite with your foes to drag you down from your height of Paradise. The powers of the coarse and commonplace will be arrayed against you — shafts of disdain and ridicule will be hurled at your tenderest feelings, — venomous lies and cruel calumnies will be circulated around you, — all to try and draw you from the circle of light into darkness and chaos. If you would stand firm, you must stand within the whirlwind; if you would maintain the centre-poise of your Soul, you must preserve the balance of movement, — the radiant and deathless atoms whereof your Body and Spirit are composed must be under steady control and complete organisation like a well disciplined army, otherwise the disintegrating forces set up by the malign influences of others around you will not only attack your happiness, but your health, break down your strength and murder your peace. Love is the only glory of Life, — the Heart and Pulse of all things, — a possession denied to earth’s greatest conquerors — a talisman which opens all the secrets of Nature — a Divinity whose power is limitless, and whose benediction bestows all beauty, all sweetness, all joy! Bear this in mind, and never forget how such a gift is grudged to those who have it by those who have it not!”
Reading thus far, a light began to break in upon me. Had not all the weird and inexplicable experience of the past hours (or days) tended to shake me from Love and destroy my allegiance to the ideal I cherished? And — had I yielded to the temptation? Had I failed? I dared not estimate either failure or success!
Leaving my place at the window, I saw that the little ‘lift’ or dresser in the wall had come up noiselessly with its usual daintily prepared refection of fruit and bread and deliciously cool spring water. I had felt neither hunger nor thirst during my strange wanderings in unknown places, but now I was quite ready for a meal, and enjoyed it with all the zest of an unspoilt appetite. When I had finished, I returned to my precious book, and placing it on the table, I propped up my head between my two hands and set myself resolutely to study. And I write down here the passages I read, exactly as I found them, for those who care to practise the lessons they teach.
FREE-WILL
“The exercise of the Will is practically limitless. It is left unfettered so that we may be free to make our own choice of life and evolve our own destiny. It can command all things save Love, for Love is of God and God is not subject to authority. Love must be born IN the Soul and OF the Soul. It must be a dual flame, — that is to say, it must find its counterpart in another Soul which is its ordained mate, before it can fulfil its highest needs. Then, like two wings moved by the same soaring impulse, it assists the Will and carries it to the highest heaven. Through its force life is generated and preserved — without it, life escapes to other phases to find its love again. Nothing is perfect, nothing is lasting without the light and fire of this dual flame. It cannot be WILLED either to kindle or to burn; it must be born of itself and IN itself, and shed its glory on the souls of its own choice. All else is subject to order and command. Love alone is free.”
POWER
“Power over all things and all men is obtained by organisation — that is to say, ‘setting one’s house in order.’ The ‘house’ implied is the body in which the Soul has temporary dwelling; every corner of it must be ‘in order,’ — every atom working healthfully in its place without any suggestion of confusion. Then, whatever is desired shall be attained. Nothing in the Universe can resist the force of a steadfastly fixed resolve; what the Spirit truly seeks must, by eternal law, be given to it, and what the body needs for the fulfilment of the Spirit’s commands will be bestowed. From the sunlight and the air and the hidden things of space strength shall be daily and hourly renewed; everything in Nature shall aid in bringing to the resolved Soul that which it demands. There is nothing within the circle of Creation that can resist its influence. Success, wealth, triumph upon triumph come to every human being who daily ‘sets his house in order’ — whom nothing can move from his fixed intent, — whom no malice can shake, no derision drive from his determined goal, — whom no temptation can drag from his appointed course, and who is proof against spite and calumny. For men’s minds are for the most part like the shifting sands of the sea, and he alone rules who evolves Order from Chaos.”
ETERNAL LIFE
“Life is eternal because it cannot die. Everything that lives MUST live for ever. Everything that lives has ALWAYS lived. What is called death, is by law impossible. Life is perpetually changing into various forms, — and every change it makes we call ‘death’ because to us it seems a cessation of life, whereas it is simply renewed activity. Every soul imprisoned to-day in human form has lived in human form before, — the very rose that flowers on its stem has flowered in this world before. Each individual Spirit preserves its individuality and, to a certain extent, its memory. It is permitted to remember a few out of the million incidents and episodes with which its psychic brain is stored, but ONLY a few during its period of evolvement. When it reaches the utmost height of spiritual capacity, and is strong enough to know and see and understand, then it will remember all from the beginning. Nothing can ever be forgotten, inasmuch as forgetfulness implies waste, and there is no waste in the scheme of the Universe. Every thought is kept for use, — every word, every sigh and tear is recorded. Life itself, in our limited view of it, can be continued indefinitely on this earth, if we use the means given to us to preserve and renew it. It was easy to preserve and prolong it in the early days of the world’s prime, for our planet was then nearer to the sun. In the present day it is returning to a position in the heavens which encourages and sustains life — and men live longer without knowing why, never thinking that it is the result of the immediate situation of the planet with regard to the sun. The Earth is not where it was in the days of Christ; it has been rushing through space these two thousand years, and yet mankind forgets that its place in the heavens is different from that which it formerly occupied, and that with this difference the laws of climate, custom and living are changed. It is not Man who alters his surroundings — it is Nature, whose order cannot be disobeyed. Man thinks that the growth of science and what he calls his ‘progress’ is the result of his own cleverness alone; on the contrary, it is the result of a change in his atmospheric ether which not only helps scientific explanation and discovery, but which tends to give him greater power over the elements, as well as to prolong his life and intellectual capability. There is no such thing as ‘standing still’ in the Universe. Every atom, every organism is doing something, or going somewhere, and there is no stop. Rest itself is merely a form of Progress towards Beauty and Perfection, and there is no flaw anywhere in the majestic splendour of God’s scheme for the ultimate happiness of His entire Creation.”
ARROGANT ASCETICISM
“The ascetic is a blasphemer of God and of the work for which God alone is responsible. By withdrawing himself from the world of men he withdraws himself from human sympathy. By chastising the body and its natural emotions and desires, he chastises that which God has made as a temple for his soul to dwell in. By denying the pleasures of this world, he denies all the good which God has prepared and provided for him, and he wrongs the fair happiness of Nature and the order in which the Universe is planned. The so-called ‘religious’ person who retires into a monastery, there to pray and fast and bemoan the ills of the flesh, is an unnatural creature and displeasing to his Maker. For God looked upon everything He had made and found it ‘good.’ Good — not bad, as the arrogant ascetic would assume. Joy, not sorrow, should be the keynote of life — the world is not a ‘vale of tears’ but a flower-filled garden, basking in the perpetual sunshine of the smile of God. What is called ‘sin’ is the work of Man — God has no part in it. ‘By pride the angels fell.’ By pride Man delays his eternal delight. When he presumes to be wiser than his Creator, — when he endeavours to upset the organisa
tion of Nature, and invents a kind of natural and moral code of his own, then comes disaster. The rule of a pure and happy life is to take all that God sends with thankfulness in moderation — the fruits of the earth, the joys of the senses, the love of one’s fellow-creatures, the delights of the intellect, the raptures of the soul; and to find no fault with that which is and must ever be faultless. We hear of wise men and philosophers sorrowing over ‘the pain and suffering of the world’ — but the pain and suffering are wrought by Man alone, and Man’s cruelty to his fellows. From Man’s culpable carelessness and neglect of the laws of health has come every disease, as from Man’s egotism, unbelief and selfishness have sprung all the crimes in the calendar.” I paused here, for it seemed to me that it was getting dark, — at any rate I could not see to read very clearly. I looked at the window, but very little light came through it, — a sudden obscurity, like a heavy cloud, darkened all visible things. I quickly made up my mind that I would not yield to any more fanciful terrors, or leave the room, even if I saw another outlet that night. With this determination I undressed quickly and went to bed. As I laid my head on the pillow I felt a kind of coldness in the air which made me shiver a little — an ‘uncanny’ sensation to which I would not yield. I saw the darkness thickening round me, and closed my eyes, resolving to rest — and so succeeded in ordering all my faculties to this end that within a very few minutes I was soundly asleep.
XIX. THE UNKNOWN DEEP
My slumber was so profound and dreamless that I have no idea how long it lasted, but when finally I awoke it was with a sense of the most vivid and appalling terror. Every nerve in my body seemed paralysed — I could not move or cry out, — invisible bands stronger than iron held me a prisoner on my bed — and I could only stare upwards in horror as a victim bound to the rack might stare at the pitiless faces of his torturers. A Figure, tall, massive and clothed in black, stood beside me — I could not see its face — but I felt its eyes gazing down upon me with a remorseless, cold inquisitiveness — a silent, searching enquiry which answered itself without words. If every thought in my brain and every emotion of my soul could have been cut out of me with a dissecting knife and laid bare to outward inspection, those terrible eyes, probing deep into the very innermost recesses of my being, would have done the work.
Delphi Collected Works of Marie Corelli Page 789
