Christmas stories; Didactic fiction; Ghost stories; Paranormal fiction; Religious fiction
THE STRANGE VISITATION
THE
STRANGE VISITATION
BY
MARIE CORELLI
AUTHOR OF “THE LIFE EVERLASTING” “THELMA” “HOLY
ORDERS” “THE SORROWS OF SATAN” ETC. ETC.
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
THE
STRANGE VISITATION
A wild night, with a gale of wind, a wind that scratched and tore
and howled at doors and windows like an angry cat spitting and
spluttering--its miauling voice now rising, now sinking--at one moment
savage, at another querulous, but always incessant of complaint,
with a threatening under snarl of restless rage in its tone. A wild
night!--full of storm and quarrel, with occasional dashes of cold rain
sweeping down on the shrieking blast like gusts of angry tears--a noisy
night in which the elements were at open war with themselves, making
no secret of their hostile intentions--and yet it was the one night of
all nights in the year when “peace and goodwill” were the suggested
influences of the time. For it was Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve! What a
wonderful anniversary it is, if we would but pause in our reckless and
senseless rush onward to the grave, just to think quietly about it for
a moment! Long, long ago--yet but a short while since--if we count by
the world’s great epochs of civilisation wherein a little two thousand
years are but a moment--a host of Angels descended from heaven and sang
a joyous hymn of general amnesty to mankind on the first Christmas
Eve that ever was--and according to the noble poesy of high-thinking,
God-revering John Milton:
“No war or battle’s sound
Was heard the world around,
The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
The unhookèd chariot stood
Unstain’d with hostile blood,
The trumpet spake not to the armèd throng;
And kings sat still with awful eye
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.
“And peaceful was the night
Wherein the Prince of Light
His reign of peace upon the earth began;
The winds, with wonder whist,
Smoothly the waters kist,
Whisp’ring new joys to the mild oceàn,
Who now hath quite forgot to rave,
While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmèd wave!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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