R. S. Warren Bell

“ Whether He create a world, or breathe the living Essence of His own Divinity into aerial atoms to be absorbed in flesh and blood, and born as Man of virginal Woman, He hath the power supreme to do such things, if such be His great pleasure. Talkest thou of miracles?—thou art thyself a miracle,—thou livest in a miracle,—the whole world is a miracle, and exists in spite of thee! Go thy ways, man; search out truth in thine own fashion; but if it should elude thee, blame not the truth which ever is, but thine own witlessness which cannot grasp it! ”

“ How common and easy it would be for me to give myself to you!—as other women are only too ready to give themselves,—to take your tenderness, your care, your admiration,—to demand your constant attendance on my lightest humor!—to bring you shame by my persistent companionship!—to cause an open slander, and allow the finger of scorn to be pointed at you!—to see your honor made a mockery of, by base persons who would judge you as one, who, notwithstanding his brave espousal of the People’s Cause, was yet a slave to the caprice of a woman! ”

“ In the old-world town of Stratford-on-Avon stands an Elizabethan red-brick house, its windowsills brightened with flowers which hang down in profusion and impart gaiety of aspect to the ancient and time-worn edifice. Here, near the Guild Church and the school that Shakespeare knew, in the quietest part of the town, dwells, with her loyal companion and friend, Miss Marie Corelli.
What manner of woman is this most popular novelist of the hour, who has the reading world at her feet, and who has conquered the hearts of millions? ”

“ Marie Corelli well says that there{302} can be nothing more hideous—more like a foretaste of hell itself—than the life position of a man and woman who have been hustled into matrimony, and who, when the wedding fuss is over and the feminine pictorial papers have done gushing about the millinery of the occasion, find themselves alone together, without a single sympathy in common, with nothing but the chink of gold and the rustle of the bank-notes for their heart music, and with a barrier of steadily increasing repulsion and disgust rising between them every day. ”

“ Nagâya is the favorite object of the people’s adoration;—they may forget to pay their vows to the Sun, but never to Nagâya, who is looked upon as the emblem of Eternal Wisdom, the only pleader whose persuasions avail to soften the tyrannic humor of the Invincible Devourer of all things. We know how men hate Wisdom and cannot endure to be instructed; yet they prostrate themselves in abject crowds before Wisdom’s symbol every day in the Sacred Temple yonder,—though I much doubt whether such constant devotional attendance is not more for the sake of Lysia, than the Deified Worm! ”

“ To write prose, perfect prose; to stir the heart and move the soul, is the highest phase of mental reasoning. It is the air and melody of spiritual conception, the so-called “supernatural.” All our lives we can talk prose, but to grasp tersely your brain’s creation, to fix upon your different dream characters and embody them with life, with passion, and with naturalness—the naturalness which has existed from creation—is the highest{153} prose, for it is poetry and prose hand-in-hand, an achievement, a oneness of the two.
This was Marie Corelli’s idea in penning “Barabbas.” ”

“ But when such vague and passing impressions are suddenly drawn together in one focus, when all his dreamy fancies of form and color take visible and complete manifestation in one living creature who looks down upon him, as it were, from an empyrean of untouched maiden pride and purity, it is more to his honor than his shame if his senses swoon at the ravishing vision, and he, despite his rough masculinity and brutal strength, becomes nothing but the merest slave to passion.” Thus Geoffrey Tempest when the violet eyes of Sibyl Elton first rest upon him. ”

“ There is no new creed, no new passion, no new deed under the sun to-day. There is only the same recapitulation in a fresh garb. Our Saints still live to-day. It sounds drastic enough, but Miss Corelli feels this and knows that midst the fair field of fairness there is also the thorn and the poisonous flower any one may cull, or the simple field lily that lifts its face to Heaven, and sees only Heaven in its purity. ”

“ In no work produced by her busy pen has Miss Corelli given such range to her imagination, to her love of the beautiful and fantastic, as in “Ardath.” This, her fourth book, abounds in wonderful accounts of a strange people in a strange place. When she sets a scene of barbaric splendor in the city of Al-Kyris, she reaches great descriptive heights; she tells, indeed, a tale of beauty, of horror, and of extraordinary amours, whose like can nowhere be found, look where you will. “Ardath” stands alone—a prose poem and a startlingly vivid narrative in one. ”

“ But it is not only as a writer, as a necromancer with a magic pen, that one may admire Marie Corelli. She is a very woman, too, with a woman’s likes and dislikes, a woman’s feelings, a woman’s impulses, a woman’s preferences and prejudices—and she is quite frank concerning all. You like her the better for being so purely human. She is never happier than when arranging a maypole dance for the children or organizing Christmas festivities for the poor and helpless. ”

“ I think there is some little truth in these statements, and the reason is not very far distant. We think too much of ourselves and too little of our neighbors. There is nothing so depressing as a constant contemplation of one’s self, and the greatest moral cowardice in the world’s opinion comes from consulting one’s own personal convenience. It is just as if a man were asked to look at a beautiful garden full of flowers, and, instead of accepting the invitation, sat down with the Röntgen rays to look at his own bones. His bones concern no one but himself, and are a dull entertainment at best. ”

“ Love would be no use then, and there would be a grave flaw in God’s perfect creation.”
“Then you think we never lose those we love? And that they see us and hear us always?”
“They must do so,” said Manuel, “otherwise there would be cruelty in creating the grace of love at all. But God Himself is Love. Those who love truly can never be parted—death has no power over their souls. If one is on earth and one in heaven, what does it matter? If they were in separate countries of the world they could hear news of each other from time to time,—and so they can when apparent death has divided them.” ”

“ There are poor women who share half they earn with those still poorer—there are obscure lives which in their very obscurity, are forming the angel-nature, and weaving the angel’s crown,—look for these in the world—give them your Golden Roses! Leave rulers and governments alone, for you should be above and beyond all rulers and governments! You should be the Herald of peace, the Pardoner of sin, the Rescuer of the fallen, and the Refuge of the distressed! ”

“ Upon that hill of Calvary to which thou, Simon, turnest thy parting looks of tenderness, has been mystically enacted the world’s one Tragedy—the tragedy of Love and Genius slain to satisfy the malice of mankind. But Love and Genius are immortal; and immortality must evermore arise: wherefore in the dark days that are coming let us not lose our courage or our hope. There will be many forms of faith,—and many human creeds in which there is no touch of the Divine. ”

“ In her delightful Stratford home she lives in a serene atmosphere; she regards the spot as hallowed; she has the artist’s love of the beautiful Warwickshire scenery, and the woman’s tenderness for all around her; the cottagers know her charity, and all good causes enjoy her aid and patronage. Here she dwells in a happy environment, and works with ardor, for her day’s labor begins at sunrise; yet she has always a spare hour for a friend, or a spare afternoon in which to act the gracious hostess towards visitors.
What first strikes one on meeting Miss Corelli is her intensely sympathetic nature. ”

“ The artists of a former time labored with sustained and passionate, yet tranquil, energy; we can only produce imitations of the greater models with a vast amount of spasmodic hurry and clamor. So, perchance, we shall leave to future generations little more than an echo of ‘much ado about nothing.’ For truly we live at present under a veritable scourge of mere noise. No king, no statesman, no general, no thinker, no writer is allowed to follow the course of his duty or work without the shrieking comment of all sorts and conditions of uninstructed and misguided persons.... ”

“ Why let your servants use the Name of the Most High to cover hypocrisy? Why crave for the power of temporal things, which passes away in the dust of destroyed kingdoms? For the Power of the Spirit is greater than all! And so it shall be proved! The Spirit shall work in ways where it has never been found before!—it shall depart from the Churches which are unworthy of its Divine inspiration!—it shall invest the paths of science!—it shall open the doors of the locked stars! ”

“ It is the taking of a solemn vow before the throne of the Eternal—a vow which declares that the man and woman concerned have discovered in each other his or her true mate; that they feel life is alone valuable and worth living in each other’s company; that they are prepared to endure trouble, poverty, pain, sickness, death itself, provided that they may only be together; and that all the world is a mere grain of dust in worth as compared to the exalted passion which fills their souls and moves them to become one in flesh as well as in spirit. ”

“ Why stand in the way of happiness, or deny even emperors peace when they crave it? Your mission is to comfort, not to condemn! You need no throne! You want no kingdom!—no settled place—no temporal power!{252} Enough for you to work and live as the poorest of all Christ’s ministers,—without pomp, without ostentation or public ceremonial, but simply clothed in pure holiness! ”

“ His domain is nature and the heart of humanity,—and the gifts he can bestow on those who meet him in the true spirit are marvelous and priceless indeed. The exquisite joys he can teach,—the fine sympathies,—the delicate emotions,—the singular method in which he will play upon two lives like separate harps, and bring them into resounding tune and harmony, so that all the world shall seem full of luscious song,—this is one way of Love’s system of education. ”

“ Do you never think of the dark days, ten and twelve hundred years after Christ, when no virtue seemed left upon the earth?—when the way to this very throne was paved by poison and cold steel?—when those who then reigned here, and occupied Your place, led such infamous lives that the very dogs might have been ashamed to follow in their footsteps!—when they professed to be able to sell the Power of the Holy Ghost for so much gold and silver? ”

“ Walter Scott’s world is real; so real that you have built him a shrine here in Edinburgh, crowded with sculptured figures of men and women, most of whom never existed save in his teeming fancy. What a tribute to the power of Imagination is that beautiful monument in the centre of Princes Street, with all the forms evoked from one great mind, lifted high above us, who consider ourselves ‘real’ people! ”

“ Rome, like Babylon, shall fall!—and the Powers of the Church shall be judged as the Powers of Darkness rather than of Light, because they have rejected the Word of their Master, and ‘teach for doctrine the commandments of men’! Disaster shall follow swift upon disaster, and the cup of trembling shall be drained again to its last dregs, as in the olden days, unless,—unless perchance—You will come out with Me! ”