The Wonderful Story of RavaletteRandolph, Paschal Beverly
Science
The Wonderful Story of Ravalette
Randolph, Paschal Beverly
Rosicrucians -- Fiction; Spiritualism -- Fiction
“Gradually the old clock-face seemed to clarify and expand, until, no
longer obstructed by substance, I gazed out, and down, and up, through
an avenue of the most astonishing light I had ever beheld. It seemed to
me that I no longer occupied my body, but that, freed from flesh and
time, I had become a denizen of Eternity; and on a fleecy vapor I was
sustained in mid-air by the potent arm of a strange-looking old man--the
veritable and precise image of him who, ten days before, had occasioned
us such a fright by his mysterious conversations and evanishment. He
told me not to fear, but to repose implicit confidence in myself and
him; that he would not injure me, but do me good; that his name was
Ettelavar; that his years were ages long; that he was the companion of
those who die--who die, and live again--and of those who never taste of
death. All this, and more, he told me; and he said that his design was
to serve both himself and me; that he was familiar with certain mighty
secrets, that had been claimed to be possessed, through many ages, by
the wise and learned of earth--the Narek El Gebel, the Hermetists, the
Pythagoreans, the three temples of the Rosie Cross, the mediæval and
modern Rosicrucians, and the scattering delvers after mystery in all
ages, times, and places. He said that among the things that I might
learn from him, were the priceless secret of compounding the Elixir of
Life, the drinking of which, by mortals, would confer perpetual youth
and surprising beauty. Then there was the Lethean Draught, and
whomsoever drank thereof, forthwith forgot all care, was oblivious to
all that concerned the Future, and lived intensely in the Present. Then
there was the Water of Love, and whoever drank thereof became
irresistibly magnetic to the opposite sex, and could kindle affection in
the heart of ice by mere personal presence. Then there was the Wondrous
Stone of the Philosophers, not capable of transmuting, by a touch,
whole tons of grossest substance into solid, shining gold, but of making
it chemically. Then there was the Magic Crystal Ball, in which the gazer
could behold whatever he wished to, that was then transpiring on this
earth, or any of the planets. ‘All this knowledge,’ said he, ‘I will
expound to you, on certain conditions to be hereafter mentioned.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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