missionaries presented themselves at the main entrance to the city
Antionum, the gateway of the north wall. They were permitted to pass
in unchallenged, and inquired out a lodging house, where they all
stayed together. Uninformed as to the exact nature of the heresy of
the Zoramites, they had resolved to avoid proclaiming their mission,
until they should become acquainted with the nature of the errors it
was their hope to correct.
The day following their entrance into the city was the holy day of the
Zoramites, when they repaired to the synagogues, of which there were
many, to worship. The interior of their places of worship was
gorgeously decorated. Near the center of each rose a stand, the top of
which extended half the height from the floor to the ceiling. The
stand proper rested on a sort of frustum of a cone. Up the sides were
several flights of steps, and at the top of the frustum was standing
room for a number of people; but in the stand proper there was room
for but one. Each in his turn ascended the single flight of steps to
the top of this holy stand--Rameumptom they called it--and stretching
forth his hands towards heaven, exclaimed in solemn tones:
Holy, Holy, Holy God!
Thou art God, There is no God beside.
Spirit Bright, and Everlasting--
The same to-day and ever more.
Separate are we from men--
Elected us hast Thou and made us holy,
While all beside thou hast condemned;
For which, Most High, and Holy God we give Thee thanks--
That we are not as other men.
Separated are we from false traditions of the Christ--
That deep blasphemy of corrupted Nephites,
Who know not Thee as Spirit-God:
But as a man expect to see Thee
Come on earth, and all mankind redeemed!
For deliverance from such traditions vile
Most High and Holy God--I give Thee thanks!
Amen, amen, amen!
At the conclusion of every distinct thought in the above prayer, the
company of worshippers at the top of the frustum would cry
aloud--"Amen, amen!" And at the conclusion of the prayer an unseen
choir accompanied by instruments, chanted selected and slightly
altered passages of the above prayer such as--
"Holy, holy God! Thou art God. Thou are holy. Thou are spirit, and
ever shall be--Holy is thy name! Amen! amen!"
Such was their form of worship, such their set prayers, as witnessed
that day by Alma and his fellow missionaries.
After witnessing this mixture of impiety and hypocrisy,
self-glorification, and abasement of those not of them. Alma thought
it not necessary to wait longer in commencing the work, and hence,
that night he laid hands upon the heads of his associates, blessed
them and set them apart for the accomplishment of the work in hand.
The next morning they separated for the better prosecution of their
enterprise. They took no thought of themselves, what they should eat,
or where they should be lodged. They preached in the synagogues, in
private houses, and even in the streets.
No one in the beginning of this work was more zealous, or more
successful than Corianton. Indeed it was his success that began to
work a great mischief; for it filled him with pride and boasting in
his own strength. By the force of his brilliancy, and a kind of genius
for controversy, he discomfited the Zoramites, and exposed the
shallowness of their principles to the great delight of the multitude
who, though they believed not the message he was delivering, were
immensely pleased with the youthful orator.
There were fundamental truths of the gospel, however, to which
Corianton himself was not converted; the atonement of Christ, the
resurrection, the justice of God in punishing the wicked, being among
them. He found, as many since his day have found, that seeing a single
manifestation of the power of God--a miracle--had not removed all the
difficulties in the way of a sound faith in the gospel; and in his own
mind he began to find ways of accounting for the destruction of
Korihor's speech--his own excitement, the mysterious magnetism of his
father which swayed men's minds, a power which he flattered himself he
had inherited, notwithstanding his unbelief.
One day about sunset, while in this frame of mind, as he was passing
down one of the main thoroughfares of Antionum, he saw a poor,
wretched object begging of those who passed him on the street. He was
miserably clad and filthy, his form emaciated and trembling with
weakness, but there was something in the profile of the face, a
resemblance to a countenance which lived in Corianton's recollection,
that attracted his attention. As he approached nearer he observed a
wildness about the man, occasioned by desperate efforts at speech,
resulting only in harsh, disconnected and unintelligible mumbling. To
his astonishment, it was Korihor. The form was wasted, the features
shrunken almost past recognition, and insanity glared from his wild
eyes. Corianton gazed in pity upon him, and Korihor returned that look
with one of puzzled wonder. Then as the mists and confusion of his
mind cleared up for the moment, he recognized his former, and what he
accounted his false friend, and with a wild shriek fled out into the
street, looking back at Corianton as he ran with an air expressive of
horror. At that moment a troop of horsemen was passing down the
street, and so sudden had been the poor half maniac's flight from the
presence of Corianton, that he threw himself in front of the horsemen,
and before they could check their speed or change their course, he was
knocked down and trampled upon.
A crowd quickly gathered around the bruised and bleeding form. His
case was notorious in Antionum, and it was generally believed that his
dumbness was brought upon him through sorcery; hence, even while he
was shunned by the people, there were many who sympathized with him,
so far, at least, as execrating those who had been the means, as they
thought, of bringing the evil upon him. Corianton ran to the man and
raised him to a sitting posture, but he never regained consciousness;
a few painful gasps, and the body sank back into the arms of the young
man, limp and lifeless. One of the guards of the city came up to the
crowd, and, recognizing the body as that of the dumb, half-crazed
beggar, he took charge of it, and finally interred it.
As Corianton walked away with the mangled form of the once bold
anti-Christ vividly pictured in his mind, he muttered half
aloud--"This is one of the judgments of God--cruel, infinitely cruel!
He above all others could have been generous and have pardoned him
before his justice," and he fairly hissed the word, "had turned to
cruelty!"
By this time he had reached his lodgings, one of the finest palaces in
all that city, and strange enough, it was the home of one of the chief
Zoramites who had been especially pleased, or at least feigned to be
especially pleased, with Corianton, and had invited him to make his
house his home. At the entrance to the walk leading up to the house,
he was met by a woman, who asked if he was one of the Nephite prophets
that had come to preach the doctrines of the Nephites to the
Zoramites. Corianton answered that he was of that party. "And is your
name Corianton?"
"Yes, that is my name."
"Then at last I have found you!"
CHAPTER SEVEN.
JOAN.
Was the woman who accosted Corianton at the gate of his lodging,
young, beautiful? He could not tell; the twilight had deepened too
much into the shadow of night, to permit him to see clearly; but there
was a fascination in the full, sweet tones of her voice, and he was
thrilled by the touch of her soft hand, as she laid it gently on his
arm, as if to detain him while asking the questions with which the
last chapter closed.
"You are going to Seantum's?"
"Yes, that is where I lodge."
"I will go with you."
He hesitated, and was not a little astonished at her perfect
self-possession, which, to his thinking, bordered on boldness. It must
be remembered that among the Nephites, one of the chief
characteristics of their women, so far as one is able to judge from
their annals, was modesty--an excellent thing in woman, when not
feigned or prudish. The freedom, therefore, with which this woman had
accosted him, a perfect stranger, and now proposed to go with him,
uninvited, to the place where he lodged, was a boldness to which
Corianton was unaccustomed. She observed that he hesitated, and broke
out into a light, silvery laugh.
"Ah, I forgot," she said, in an apologizing tone, yet with a touch of
mockery in it, "thou art one of the prophets, perhaps a solemn one,
and unacquainted with our people, and my manners are too bold. But
Seantum, with whom you lodge, is a near kinsman--my father's brother;
now, will you throw open the gate, and allow me to go in with you?"
He complied with her request mechanically, and in silence, for he knew
not what to say. As they approached the house he again felt that soft
hand laid gently on his arm, and the same sweet voice said, almost
pleadingly: "Let us not go into the house yet, the evening is
beautiful; see, the moon is just peeping over the tree tops, and
floods the earth with her soft light--let us walk in the garden." She
had retained her hold upon his arm, and obeying her will rather than
his own, he turned down a path leading away from the house.
The house of Seantum was situated at the southern outskirts of the
city, in the midst of a spacious and splendid garden. There were
extensive lawns, studded with tropical trees, several species of palms
and plantain; the cocoa trees standing in groups, their great tufts of
gigantic leaves rustling in the moonlight at the height of sixty and
seventy feet; banana and papaw trees growing side by side in rows
along the walks, and back of them in irregular order stood
pomegranates, while here and there were clumps of lindens,
interspersed with sumach and cashew, and a great variety of evergreen
shrubbery. Here side by side, and in fine contrast, were
rhododendrons, with their rose-colored flowers, and the coffee shrub
with its clusters of delicate white blossoms. Other flowers and
flowering trees there were in great profusion--the fragrant eglantine,
the elegant, airy though thorny acacia, and now and then an aloe
plant, and, ah, rare sight! several of them were in full bloom; these,
with splendid magnolias, mingled their odors; and burdened the air
with ambrosial fragrance, which, with the chirrup and hum of insect
life, the gentle whispering wind, stealing softly through shrubbery
and tree, and all kissed to beauty by the glorious moonlight, made up
a night such as lovers love, and love's young dream expands.
"You are not at all curious," said Corianton's new-found companion.
"You have not yet asked my name, nor why I am here, nor what it is I
want with you--you have not spoken half a dozen words since we
met--you smile, do you mean by that I have not given you a chance to
say more?"
"Such were my thoughts, lady, but I would know your name, and am most
curious to know what you would with me."
By this they had reached a lakelet at the lower end of the garden,
from whose moist beach grew several gigantic mango and sycamore trees.
They had passed in the shadow of one of the latter whose inclining
trunk extended far out over the water-lily bedecked lake. Half seating
herself on the inclined tree, she raised her hand to clutch a grape
vine that drooped from a branch above, and as she did so the ample
folds of her sleeve slipped back and left uncovered a beautiful white
arm. And now Corianton noticed for the first time that the form was
supple and finely proportioned. Her head, too, had been covered with a
kind of mantilla which had also partly shrouded her face; this fell
back now, revealing a face of uncommon loveliness, and a profusion of
brown hair.
"You must know then, sir prophet," she said with a light air, "that I
am Joan, from Siron; my father is a Nephite by birth, but when young
met with my mother, taken captive during a war with your people. He
fell in love with the captive, married her and she induced him to go
with her to her people. They settled in Siron where they lived happily
until my mother died. My father still lives, and has never been
entirely rid of the traditions of the Nephites, and hearing that a
party of Nephite prophets were preaching in Antionum, it was his wish
that I should come to our kinsman Seantum, find you, and ask that you
would also preach in Siron."
"But why did you come to me? I do not lead our party, I am youngest in
it."
"Ah, sir prophet, you are more famous than you know. It was Corianton
that we first heard of in Siron; it is he whose eloquence most baffles
the Zoramites, and threatens the disruption of their church--believe
me, sir, I was charged by my father to bid you come."
Oh, flattery! what man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms!
And how those charms are heightened, when flattery falls from beauty's
lips! The vanity of Corianton was well pleased with the words of the
woman; pride swelled his bosom, and he felt exalted above his
brethren.
"For two days I have sought you" (Corianton had been absent two days
from his lodgings), "now I have found you and delivered my message,
will you go to Siron?"
"I cannot say, lady, I must first confer with my brethren, and if by
them it is thought best, I--"
"What! are you not free to come and go where and when you like. Are
you in bondage?"
"No, lady, not in bondage, yet it is mete I counsel with my
associates, and if--"
"And 'if' they give you leave, why then you'll go! Ah me, that is such
liberty as a maiden has under her father's control. I've often wished
myself a man, that I might have a more extended liberty, but if men
cannot act independent of control, it pleases me that I am a woman. I
fear, Sir prophet, that I shall never be a convert to your faith."
"Then I would esteem my success in Siron of little value though I
gained the whole people, if I failed to number one so fair among those
who followed me."
"Come, sir, let us now go in; you begin to find your tongue, and even
a prophet, I see, can flatter."
So saying she drew her mantle over her head, and they walked in
silence towards the house.
Corianton, as he walked away, did not observe shadowy forms glide from
under adjacent trees, hold a brief consultation and depart from the
spot which he himself had just quitted.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE REVEL.
As Corianton and Joan approached the house, lively strains of music
floated out upon the evening air, and lights gleamed from all the
windows; now sounds of revelry could be heard--the merry laugh, and
flying feet. In the hall they were met by Seantum. "Returned home at
last, Corianton, eh?" he said with blustering familiarity, "what, and
with Joan, too!"
"Yes, kinsman; I found our prophet as he was entering the grounds, and
have detained him long enough to deliver my message."
"Quite right, too, quite right; if you have anything to do, do it, and
do it at once, say I. But come, sir, some young people have gathered
here, to make merry the night, recreation will do you good, sir; youth
was made for enjoyment, sir, and youth cheats itself if it make not
good use of its time."
"Oh, kinsman, you forget!" said Joan. "This man, though he hath not a
gray beard, or a stooped back--and though he hath no staff, yet is he
a holy man! and will account the youthful revels you commend, as
sinful. Alas," said she, with charming mock solemnity,--"alas, that
youth should so soon wed itself to the vocation of the aged! Besides,
I warrant me, he will tell thee he must first counsel with his
fellow-prophets, before he can stir in what you would have him enjoy.
So pray forbear, tempt not the holy prophet!" And with this
tantalizing witchery she left him.
Seantum laughed heartily at the evident discomfiture of Corianton. "By
my life, sir, she hath hit you as hard with her sarcasm of your
solemnities, as your ridicule hits the weakness of our Zoramite faith;
but come, sir, come, you must rally, you must let her see that you
have spirit--which I know you have--go in, sir," lowering his voice,
"it shall not harm your reputation; go in, you shall find beauty,
gaiety, pleasure and secrecy beneath my roof--go in, sir; youth was
made for pleasure!"
His pride, wounded by the light sarcasm of Joan, and, influenced, it
must also be confessed, by the cajolery of Seantum, Corianton permitted
himself to be led down the hall into a spacious saloon, brilliantly
lighted by cressets, and at one end of which, on a platform, was
arranged a banqueting table, ladened profusely with all the delicacies
of the tropics--a rich variety of meats, fruits and wines, of which
all were free to partake at pleasure. The ceiling and wall of the
saloon were frescoed with voluptuous figures or grim monsters, half
animal, half human--with here and there indications that some
knowledge of the old mythologies was still retained; the windows were
draped with curtains of rich stuffs, variously colored; their ample
folds gently stirred by the soft breeze which stole into the room,
filling it with the rich perfumes of the garden. The floor was
variegated Mosaic work, smooth as polished ivory, covered at the sides
and ends by soft carpeting.
As Corianton and Seantum entered the saloon, a pretty dark-eyed girl
was executing a sort of fandango to the evident delight of a number of
young men sitting or lounging promiscuously about the room. At the
conclusion of the dance the girl was greeted warmly with a round of
applause. Then there was quiet, broken occasionally by light ripples
of laughter, the hum of confused conversation, or occasional commands
to the slaves to serve fruits or wines. There were whispered nothings,
tender caresses, and loose jests. Groups of women of all degrees of
beauty were reclining on divans or cushions, half concealed by the
rich foliage of gigantic plants in great vases; and sometimes in
recesses nearly shut out from the main body of the saloon by closely
drawn curtains.
The entrance of Seantum and Corianton had attracted no attention; but
as the tall, graceful Nephite passed the various groups, the girls
broke out in exclamations of admiration--"how handsome!" "how young!"
"what fine eyes!--and what a form!" "who is he?" "a stranger--a
Nephite." All this agitated Corianton, and rendered him uneasy.
Arriving at the head of the saloon, he was introduced to a group of
young men about his own age.
"This is my Nephite prophet of whom you have heard me speak," said
Seantum, "receive him as my honored guest and friend." At this
Corianton was warmly saluted, and called upon to pledge the
acquaintance in wine. There was no retreating now, nor could there be
any refusal.
"Though our new friend is a Nephite," said Seantum, after the pledge
of friendship had been drunk, "and reared under traditions which we
have forsaken, religious differences, arising solely from training in
childhood, should make no difference in social life." "No, no," broke
in several voices. "Let us bury thoughts of all such differences in
another bowl of wine," said a youth of Lamanitish appearance, and
already under the influence of the beverage he now called for.
At that moment in the lower part of the saloon some one was greeted by
hearty applause; looking in that direction Joan was seen advancing
clad in loose, fleecy garments; she held in her hand a long strip of
crimson gauze, and as she reached the middle of the saloon she shook
out its folds and began a dance of exquisite grace.
What mischief hath not been worked by the witching grace exhibited by
beautiful women in the dance! The elegance and harmony of motion, the
poetry of movement, gives a lustre to beauty and influences the senses
through the imagination. 'Twas the dancing of the fair daughter of
Jared which drove Akish of old to pledge himself to murder King Omer
among the Jaredites; and men hereafter shall promise with an oath
anything to the half of a kingdom, to some fair one for dancing before
them.
Never had Corianton seen such a combination of motion and beauty as
that now before him. The slight willowy form of Joan swaying with easy
grace, the poise of the head, the movement of the arms, all in perfect
harmony with the rest of her actions. Frequently the company applauded
her, but now evidently the dance is drawing to a close, concluding
with rapid whirling round the entire saloon. As she passed near
Corianton she suddenly threw her gauze scarf over his head, as a
challenge for him to join her in the finale; and he, forgetful of all
but her loveliness and bewitching grace, caught her hand, holding the
tips of her fingers, and accompanied her in that whirling circuit. He
had evidently acquitted himself well, for he shared in the applause
which greeted her, and the compliments that followed.
"Ah, my friend, I scarcely thought a prophet could do so well," she
whispered, in her taunting manner; but seeing that he turned pale at
her remark, and that a pained expression also passed over his
features, she quickly added "you did well, I am proud of you, and you
must be my companion for the night;" and her hand once more stole
within his arm.
The revels were continued through the night, wine flowed as freely as
water, and long before the gray dawn began to break in the east, many
had sunk down in a helpless, drunken sleep. Corianton also was
intoxicated, but not so much with wine as with the beauty and chic of
Joan. When she left him, as she did soon after midnight, he began to
realize the situation into which his half thoughtless indiscretion had
plunged him, and he knew not how he would well answer his brethren for
his conduct. Though he had drunk but little wine, not being accustomed
to it his brain was on fire, and a mad spirit of recklessness seized
him. Passing a group of young fellows in an advanced stage of
intoxication in one of the recesses of the saloon, he was hailed by
them, and congratulated upon his conquest of the fairest lady in all
their land. He joined them in their praises of her beauty and in their
revel. What he did, what was done he knew not, his brain was
confused--he had an indistinct recollection of boisterous, frenzied
jollity, then high words, a quarrel, but not the reason of it, and
then all was darkness, oblivion.
CHAPTER NINE.
ISABEL.
As the grey light of morning struggled through the heavy curtained
windows of the saloon, Corianton awoke. For some time he lay half
bewildered, unable to call to mind what had happened, or where he was,
conscious only of the heavy, dull pain in his head. At last, however,
the revels of the past night were conjured up by his recollection; but
awakening consciousness brought with it a sickening sense of shame. He
was lying on a cushioned divan in one of the many recesses opening
into the saloon, and near him in a heavy stupor, on the floor, was a
young Lamanite girl. He arose and staggered from the recess to seek
the open air. In the saloon the lights in the cressets were burning
low, but giving out sufficient of their pale, yellow light to reveal
the general disorder that prevailed. Fruits, drinking bowls, withered
flowers and ottomans lay scattered about promiscuously. The banquet
table itself with its burden of fruits and wines and silver furniture,
had been overturned, doubtless in the melee which followed the
quarrel, of which Corianton had but an indistinct recollection. Near
the door leading into the hall were two slaves sleeping in each
other's arms--worn out by the services of the past night.
Corianton wended his way through all this debris and at last reached
the garden; but neither the cool morning air, the song of birds nor
the perfume of flowers brought relief to his aching heart or troubled
mind.
He followed the same path down which Joan had led him the night before
to the margin of the lake, and stood under the same trees where her
loveliness first attracted his attention. Again he saw her half
reclining against the tree, once more heard her sweet voice deriding
his faith and mocking at the bondage it brought with it--"What, are
you not free? Are you in bondage?" she had said; and the humiliation he
had experienced by the taunting question still hurt his pride. He
sought a bower near at hand, and stretching himself upon a seat
beneath it, was soon lost in a fitful slumber.
He was suddenly awakened by some one in a subdued but hurried tone
calling his name. Shaking off his sleep at last, he was surprised and
not a little troubled at seeing his brother Shiblon standing over him.