"In the beginning," so we are told, "God made the heavens and the earth." The statement is simple and terse; it is evidently intended to be wholly comprehensive. Its decisive, almost abrupt tone would seem to forbid either question or argument. The old-world narrator of the sublime event thus briefly chronicled was a poet of no mean quality, though moved by the natural conceit of man to give undue importance to the earth as his own particular habitation. The perfect confidence with which he explains 'God' as making 'two great lights, the greater light to rule the day, the lesser light to rule the night, ' is touching to the verge of pathos; and the additional remark which he throws in, as it were casually, -'He made the stars also, ' cannot but move us to admiratio
Like many Victorians, particularly those later in the century, Marie Corelli, one of the best selling Victorian and early-twentieth-century novelists, believed in her own fervent, if idiosyncratic, Christianity. As Aubrey Leigh, one of the characters in The Master Christian (1900) proclaims, "There are no Charles Kingsleys nowadays, - if there were, I should call myself a 'Kingsleyite'." Essentially, Corelli believes in an essential, non-institutional form of Christianity, for as her character explains, A church is a building more or less beautiful or ugly as the case may be, and in the building there is generally a man who reads prayers in a sing-song tone of voice, and perhaps another man who preaches without eloquence on some text which he utterly fails to see the true symbolical meaning of. . . . But as matters stand I am not moved by the church to feel religious. I would rather sit quietly in the fields and hear the gentle leaves whispering their joys and thanksgivings above my head, than listen to a human creature who has not even the education to comprehend the simplest teachings of nature, daring to assert himself as a teacher of the Divine. My own chief object in life has been and still is to speak on this and similar subjects to the people who are groping after lost Christianity. They need helping, and I want to try in my way to help them."Appropriately, although most of the attacks on religion in The Master Christian - a very devout book - have Roman Catholicism as their target, Corelli also criticizes protestantism, even when it diverges from the Roman church. She, for example, uses Cyrillon, the young reformer, as a way of sharply criticizing both Protestant and Catholic services because they ignore Christ's explicit instructions: Nevertheless, the glory of that banished Creator shone in the deepening glow of the splendid heavens, --and--from the silver windings of the Seine which, turning crimson in the light, looped and garlanded the time-honoured old city as with festal knots of rosy ribbon, up to the trembling tops of the tall poplar trees fringing the river banks, --the warm radiance palpitated with a thousand ethereal hues of soft and changeful colour, transfusing all visible things into the misty semblance of some divine dwelling of dreams. Ding-dong--ding dong The last echo of the last bell died away upon the air--the last words enunciated by devout priests in their cloistered seclusion were said--"In hora mortis nostrae Amen "--the market women went on their slow way homeward, --the children scampered off in different directions, easily forgetful of the Old-World petition they had thought of, yet left unuttered, --the bargeman and his barge slipped quietly away together down the windings of the river out of sight;-- the si
The Sorrows of Satan is an 1895 Faustian novel by Marie Corelli. It is widely regarded as one of the world's first bestsellers - partly due to an upheaval in the system British libraries used to purchase their books, and partly due to its popular appeal. Roundly condemned by contemporary literary critics for Corelli's moralistic and prosaic style, it nonetheless had strong supporters, including Oscar Wilde and various members of royalty. Widely ignored in literary circles, it is increasingly regarded as an influential fin de si cle text. The book is occasionally subtitled "Or the Strange Experience of One Geoffrey Tempest, Millionaire".
Though the film is presumed lost, a surviving synopsis was published in the Moving Picture World on June 25, 1910. It states: "Thelma is a simple Norwegian maiden living alone with her father in the land of the midnight sun. Her father is one of the few remaining Vikings, famous in history. As such he is held in great reverence by his servants, who consider him somewhat in the nature of a king, and his daughter a princess. Outside of the years spent at school, Thelma has spent nearly all her time alone, her mother having died when she was a baby. When on a visit to her mother's grave, Thelma meets Sir Philip Errington, a distinguished young Englishman, who is touring Norway in his private yacht. Sir Philip is instantly attracted to her and, obtaining information as to where she lives, presents himself to Olaf, the Viking, and is finally admitted to his friendship and that of his daughter. Sir Phillip woos and wins the fair Thelma for his bride, and with her sails back to England. In London, Thelma at once creates a favorable impression and is cordially welcomed by all of Sir Philip's friends, who comprise the nobility and aristocracy of the metropolis. Lady Clara, alone, of all Sir Philip's old friends, wishes Thelma harm. She has long felt an affection for Sir Phillip, and resents the fact that he spurned her love and chose his bride in far-off Norway. This wicked and designing woman determines to wreck Thelma's happiness, and force her to leave England. This she contrives to do, in making Thelma believe that Sir Philip no longer loves her, but that in truth his heart belongs to Lady Clara. As proof of her statement she shows Thelma a letter written to her by Sir Philip in which he pleads the cause of his friend, who is in love with Lady Clara, and wishes her to become his wife. This Lady Clara claims is a love letter written by Sir Philip to her. Thelma, heartbroken, believing she has lost her husband's love, returns to Norway, just as her father, the Viking, breathes his last. She, with his faithful followers, complies with his last wishes, which are that he shall be buried as his forefathers were before him - sent out to sea in his burning ship. This form of burial had been that accorded to all Vikings for centuries past. After straining her eyes for a final look at the departing ship, Thelma retraces her steps to her mother's grave, and there, feeling that she is alone, prays for the strength to live. Here in a rocky dell before the tomb of her mother, where first she met the man who won her heart, Sir Philip again finds Thelma. A few words suffice to show her how she has been tricked, and a fervent protestation of his love convinces her that she still has a place in his heart. In Sir Philip's arms, she finds comfort for the loss of her father; she starts out bravely to again face the world, now sure of his unending love
