Marie Corelli

“ If you will fasten a bunch of mistletoe on the door of my dear old Sedan-Chair on Christmas Eve, I will come and bring you a bundle of pleasant thoughts and merry fancies in exchange! And the best advice I can give you is to be ‘Old-Fashioned’—that is, to love home more than ‘gadding,’—peace more than strife,—friendship more than ‘society,’—simplicity more than show,—cheerfulness more than pride,—truth more than distinction,—and God more than all! ”

“ Was it worth while to leave the sunshine for this dark?—beauty for this decay?—sweet sounds of love and tenderness for this still glow of the eternal flame which is not quenched—this gnawing of the eternal worm whose appetite is never satisfied? Lo, ye have burnt up a world to light Hell with its flame!—but the world shall blossom again like a flower springing from the dust, and ye whose soulless lives have been a curse and an outrage on its fairness, shall pace its pleasant paths no more! ”

“ Love. It resembles the stirring of the sap in the roots of flowers, thrilling the very ground with hints and promises of spring,—it is the unspeakable out-coming of human emotion and sympathy too great to be contained within itself,—the tremulous desire,—half vague and wholly innocent,—of the human soul for its mate. The lower grades of passion have not as yet ruffled the quivering white wings of this divinely sweet emotion, and the being who is happy enough to experience it in all its intensity, is, for the time, the most enviable on earth. ”

“ Sympathy, tenderness, patience, love for all living creatures, rejection of everything that is mean and cruel, false and cowardly,—a broad mind open to all the beautiful and gracious influences of Nature—a spirit uplifted in thanksgiving to the loving God of all worlds who is brought close to us and made the friend of man in the Divine Personality of Christ—this surely is Christianity—a Faith which leaves no corner anywhere for the admission of hate, dissension or despair. ”

“ The morning beams are always new
And scatter blessings free,
And the Christmas Day
Is as new as they,
He was never old to me, my love;
May he never grow old to thee!”
So runs a sweet old song, sung by a true English poet in days long ago gone by, and the clear, clean, glad and wholesome spirit of it is surely worth cherishing. Let none of us say we “hate” Christmas. Whatever our memories, bitter or sweet, they do not belong to the festival, but only to ourselves. ”

“ For Imperial Britain may have its day like Imperial Rome—may run its course equally to decay and death,—but the Empire of love and purity, of unselfishness and goodness, of truth and kindness, is built up on eternal foundations and can never end! And within that Empire the Soul of Queen Alexandra is crowned more gloriously than with the crown of England,—from every quarter of it she commands more subjects than any earthly kingdom holds,—and those who cannot penetrate into this boundless and everlasting realm of hers, do not know her, [Pg 46] and cannot say they have ever looked upon her! ”

“ It is the season of glamour and grammarye,—a look over the distant hills is sufficient to engage the mind of the dreaming girl with brilliant fancies of gallant knights riding from far-off countries, with their lady’s colours pinned to their breasts “to do or die” for the sake of love and glory,—and the young boy, half in love with a pretty face he has seen on his way home from school or college, begins to think with all the poets, of eyes blue as skies, of loves and doves, and hearts and darts, in happy unconsciousness that his thoughts are not in the least original. ”

“ So it is well for us—those who can—to imagine “imaginary” love. We shall never grasp the Dream in this world—nevertheless let us fly after it as though it were a Reality! Its path is one of sweetness more than pain,—its ways are devious, yet even in sadness still entrancing. Better than rank, better than wealth is this talisman, which with a touch brings us into close communication with the Higher worlds. ”

“ Help nothing on that is noble—nothing that is honest,—nothing that is of God, or for God,—print every lie, grudge every truth, and let your trumpet-note be that of blatant Atheism and Devilry to the end! Set trade against trade,—community against community,—nation against nation—till with your windy bombast and senseless twaddle you fill your witches’ cauldron of mischief and contention to the full! ”

“ Lo, I give it to you in millions, packed down and pressed together in full and overflowing measure—I scatter it on you even as a destroying rain!—build with it, buy with it, gamble with it, sell your souls and bodies for it,—there are devils enough in hell to drive all your bargains! Sneer at truth, defeat justice, snatch virtue’s mask to cover vice, drug conscience, feed and fatten yourselves with the lusts of animalism till the cancer of sin makes of you a putrefaction and an open sore in the sight of the sun! ”

“ Yet it is,—and one of the strongest proofs of its separate identity from the body is this “imaginary” love for which it yearns, and which it never obtains. “Imaginary” love is not earthly,—neither is it heavenly,—it is something between both, a vague and inchoate feeling, which, though incapable of being reduced to any sort of reason or logic, is the foundation of perhaps all the greatest art, music, and poetry in the world. If we had to do merely with men as they are and women as they are, Art would perish utterly from the face of the earth. ”

“ On—still on—the Car rushed; and He of the sable robes and flaming crown urged apace its reckless speed with wild shouts of wilder laughter.
“All the world in such haste to die!” he cried. “All the world gone mad with the craze of movement! Up in the air, down on the earth—all turned to whirling, flying, tossing atoms of dust in a storm, and lo, the End! Be patient now, for ye shall never wander again—be silent now, for prayer and cursing, laughter and tears are done—let the hoarded gold drop from your grasp—it can purchase nothing yonder! ”

“ Intensifying every enjoyment, adding a double [Pg 169] thrill to the notes of a sweet song, lending an extra glow to the sunshine, an added radiance to the witchery of the moonlight, a more varied and exquisite colouring to the trees and flowers, a charm to every book, a delight to every new scene, “imaginary” love, a very sprite of enchantment, helps us to believe persistently in good, when those who love not at all, neither in reality nor in idealization, are drowning in the black waters of suicidal despair. ”

“ King Buttercup rose from his throne and advanced to meet her—all the Bees buzzed, the Rose Beetles clashed their swords, and the Skylark sang louder and louder, hovering, like a living jewel in the sunshine, just above the Royal Canopy. Now as the little Daisy approached her kingly bridegroom, her great happiness and honour seemed more than she could bear, and a faint beautiful rose-blush tinged her tiny white petals. ”

“ We are far better off as we are. Our dangers and grievances, our hopes and our happiness, lie in the working of the Constitution, not in the favour or power of any Sovereign. It is the Parliament, the House of Commons, that we must convert, or at least strive to retain within the influence of Christianity. For the well-being of this country and the salvation of its people depend, above all other human things, upon the view that the House of Commons can be got to take of its duty—to respect and obey the law of Christ. ”

“ Now shall you resolve yourselves back to an embryo of worms and apes, and none [Pg 144] shall rescue you, no, not one! For the Seven Angels of the Judgment Day are sounding their trumpets of terror, and who shall silence the voices, or stay the thunderings and lightnings, or the great earthquake? Hail and fire!—and the trees, and the green grass burnt up and destroyed,—the sun and the moon, the day and the night smitten into one blackness! We will have no more virtues!—no more hopes of Heaven! Honour shall be as a rag on a fool’s back, and Gold shall be the pulse of Life! ”

“ Through all the history of the realm I have counted the tears of the poor, the sufferings of the weak, the griefs of the lonely, and when I set my light on the great king’s brow I move him to deeds of pity and loving-kindness! [Pg 24] I watch the world progressing in good,—I know that there is more tenderness than wrath in humanity,—more love than hate! ”

“ Sir Tulip waved his leaves carelessly with a rakish air, and Lady Hyacinth trembled with rage,—for it was the Lily who had come all the way from the Nile who thus reproached them, and she was a great authority on deportment.
Meanwhile the Buttercup and Daisy danced on, and all the other field and woodland flowers [Pg 292] danced too, till the sun sank and the moon rose, and the meadows shone with the silvery reflections of a million fantastic and graceful forms that swayed to and fro in the wind like pretty gleams of pale sunshine on dark green water. ”

“ All Creation shall rejoice to be cleansed from the pollution of your presence, for God hath sworn to give unto Me all who reject Him, and the Hour of the Gift has come!”
Still faster and more furiously flew the Car,—red meteors flashed in its course—and the Phantom shapes which followed its flight crowded together in an ever-thickening, ever, darkening multitude, while bright stars were shaken down from heaven like snowflakes whirling in a winter blast. ”

“ The music of life shall clash into wild discord—the love of home shall be a lost glory,—tenderness for the young and reverence for the old shall be the faded sentiments of the past, only fit for a mummer’s jest! ”

“ On, on, over all beauty, all tenderness, all truth I ride,—I, the Avenger, the Destroyer, the Torturer of Souls, the Arch-Enemy of God! The Kingdom of Hell grows wide and deep,—praise be to the Man who makes it! I count up my growing possessions in the ever-breeding spawn of human lust and avarice,—I breathe and live and rejoice in the fat poison-vapours of human Selfishness! ”

“ I felt that it was perhaps not advisable to enter into argument with a visitor who knew the secrets of the next world.
“They can’t love each other as they used to,” went on the Ghost of the Old-Fashioned Girl; “the modern ways of the world won’t give them either the time or the opportunity. It is all rush, rush, hurry, and scramble;—and I’m sorry to see that the men love themselves better than their sweethearts. In my day it was quite different; men loved their sweethearts better than themselves!” ”

“ It is, therefore, able to undertake all things, and it completes many things and warrants them to take effect where he who does not love would faint and lie down. Love is watchful, and, sleeping, slumbereth not. Though weary, it is not tired; though alarmed, it is not confounded, but, as a lively flame and burning torch, it forces its way upwards, and securely passes all.... Love is born of God and cannot rest but in God, above all created things.”
Is OUR Gospel of modern life and society to-day one of love or hate? Do we help each other more readily than we kick each other down? ”

“ The sun was now high in the heavens, and all the fields and gardens were bright with life and activity. The birds warbled gaily on the budding green boughs, and hosts of gay insects with rainbow-tinted wings fluttered and danced in the fresh breeze. Many butterflies passed to and fro, some pure white, others pale yellow, others crimson, and some beautifully variegated; but as the messengers of King Buttercup were to be recognized by their blue costume, the other members of the tribe did not attract as much attention from the Flowers as usual. ”

“ Closer and more terrible grew the fight,—and the evil angel, with such ferocity as only hate and cruelty can give, twice thrust his dazzling foe to the ground;—twice smote the heavenly-fair head with the great Sword that bore the words “everlasting death” upon its blade. And while they yet battled on, the moon rose, round and full, peering in upon them like a wondering white face of sad and wistful inquiry. For a moment they paused in their conflict,—and the jewels in the Crown suddenly ceased to sparkle. ”

“ The true Christian faith has no dogma,—no form—no sect. It starts with Christ as God-in-man, in an all-embracing love for God and His whole Creation, with an explicit and clear understanding (as symbolized so emphatically in the Crucifixion and Resurrection) that each individual soul is an immortal germ of life, in process of eternal development, to which each new “experience” of thought, whether on this planet [Pg 68] or others, adds larger powers, wider intelligence, and intensified consciousness. There are no “isms” in this faith—no bigotry, and no intolerance. ”

“ During its progress [Pg 164] through life it gathers around it what it can in the way of crumbs of love, grains of affection, taking them tenderly and with tears of gratefulness. But it is always conscious of solitude,—an awful yet Divine solitude, over which the Infinite broods, watchful yet silent. Why it is brought into conscious being, to live within a material frame and there perform certain duties and labours, and from thence depart again, it cannot tell. All is a mystery,—a strange Necessity, in which it cannot truly recognize its part or place. ”

“ Well, Englishmen have every chance of seeing themselves as others see them, when they hear a “Christian” Cardinal accusing them of “wanton contempt for the feelings of other nations.” To whom do other nations turn in want or distress but England? From whom do the famine and fever-stricken in all corners of the world obtain relief? England! Where is there any Roman Catholic country that has poured out such limitless charity and pity to all in sorrow as England? ”