"Probably," said Esmo, when, apparently at a sign from him, our host
left us for some minutes alone, "much through which you are about to
pass will seem to you childish or unmeaning. Ceremonial rendered
impressive to us by immemorial antiquity, and cherished the more
because so contrary to the absence of form and ceremony in the life
around us—symbolism which is really the more useful, the more
valuable, because it contains much deeper meaning than is ever
apparent at first sight—have proved their use by experience; and, as
they are generally witnessed for the first time in early youth, make a
sharper impression than they are likely to effect upon a mind like
yours. But they may seem strangely inconsistent with a belief which is
in itself so limited, and founded so absolutely upon logical proof or
practical evidence. The best testimony to the soundness of our policy
in this respect is the fact that our vows, and the rites by which they
are sanctioned, are never broken, that our symbols are regarded with
an awe which no threats, no penalties, can attach to the highest of
civil authorities or the most solemn legal sanctions. The language of
symbol, moreover, has for us two great advantages—one dependent upon
the depth of thought and knowledge with which the symbols themselves
were selected by our Founder, owing to which each generation finds in
them some new truth of which we never dreamed before; the other
arising from the fact that we are a small select body in the midst of
a hostile and jealous race, from whom it is most important to keep the
key of communications which, without the appearance, have all the
effect of ciphers."
"I find," I replied, "in my own world that every religion and every
form of occult mysticism, nay, every science, in its own way and
within its own range, attaches great importance to symbols in
themselves apparently arbitrary. Experience shows that these symbols
often contain a clue to more than they were originally meant to
convey, and can be employed in reasonings far beyond the grasp of
those who first invented or adopted them. That a body like the _Zinta_
could be held together without ceremonial and without formalities,
which, if they had no other value, would have the attraction of
secresy and exclusiveness, seems obviously impossible."
Here our host rejoined us. We passed into the gallery, where several
persons were awaiting us; the men for the most part wearing a small
vizor dependent from the turban, which concealed their faces; the
women all, without exception, closely veiled. As soon as Esmo
appeared, the party formed themselves into a sort of procession two
and two. Motioning me to take the last place, Esmo passed himself to
its head. If the figure beside me were not at once recognised, I could
not mistake the touch of the hand that stole into my own. The lights
in the gallery were extinguished, and then I perceived a lamp held at
the end of a wand of crystal, which gleamed above Esmo's head, and
sufficed to guide us, giving light enough to direct our footsteps and
little more. Perhaps this half-darkness, the twilight which gave a
certain air of mystery to the scene and of uncertainty to the forms of
objects encountered on our route, had its own purpose. We reached very
soon the end of the gallery, and then the procession turned and passed
suddenly into another chamber, apparently narrow, but so faintly
lighted by the lamp in our leader's hands that its dimensions were
matter of mere conjecture. That we were descending a somewhat steep
incline I was soon aware; and when we came again on to level ground I
felt sure that we were passing through a gallery cut in natural rock.
The light was far too dim to enable me to distinguish any openings in
the walls; but the procession constantly lengthened, though it was
impossible to see where and when new members joined. Suddenly the
light disappeared. I stood still for a moment in surprise, and when I
again went forward I became speedily conscious that all our companions
had vanished, and that we stood alone in utter darkness. Fearing to
lead Eveena further where my own steps were absolutely uncertain, I
paused for some time, and with little difficulty decided to remain
where I was, until something should afford an indication of the
purpose of those who had brought us so far, and who must know, if they
had not actual means of observing, that in darkness and solitude I
should not venture to proceed.
Presently, as gradually as in Northern climates the night passes into
morning twilight, the darkness became less absolute. Whence the light
came it was impossible to perceive. Diffused all around and slowly
broadening, it just enabled me to discern a few paces before us the
verge of a gulf. This might have been too shallow for inconvenience,
it might have been deep enough for danger. I waited till my eyes
should be able to penetrate its interior; but before the light entered
it I perceived, apparently growing across it, really coming gradually
into view under the brightening gleam, a species of bridge which—when
the twilight ceased to increase, and remained as dim as that cast by
the crescent moon—assumed the outline of a slender trunk supported by
wings, dark for the most part but defined along the edge by a narrow
band of brightest green, visible in a gleam too faint to show any
object of a deeper shade. Somewhat impatient of the obvious symbolism,
I hurried Eveena forward. Immediately on the other side of the bridge
the path turned almost at right angles; and here a gleam of light
ahead afforded a distinct guidance to our steps. Approaching it, we
were challenged, and I gave the answer with which I had been
previously furnished; an answer which may not be, as it never has
been, written down. A door parted and admitted us into a small
vestibule, at the other end of which a full and bright light streamed
through a portal of translucent crystal. A sentinel, armed only with
the antiquated spear which may have been held by his first predecessor
in office ten thousand Martial years ago, now demanded our names. Mine
he simply repeated, but as I gave that of Eveena, daughter of Esmo, he
lowered his weapon in the salute still traditional among Martial
sentries; and bending his head, touched with his lips the long sleeve
of the cloak of _therne_-down in which she was on this occasion again
enveloped. This homage appeared to surprise her almost as much as
myself, but we had no leisure for observation or inquiry. From behind
the crystal door another challenge was uttered. To this it was the
sentry's part to reply, and as he answered the door parted; that at
the other end of the vestibule having, I observed, closed as we
entered, and so closed that its position was undiscoverable. Before us
opened a hall of considerable size, consisting of three distinct
vaults, defined by two rows of pillars, slender shafts resembling tall
branchless trees, the capital of each being formed by a branching head
like that of the palm. The trunks were covered with golden scales; the
fern-like foliage at the summit was of a bright sparkling emerald. It
was evident to my observation that the entire hall had been excavated
from solid rock, and the pillars left in their places. Each of the
side aisles, if I may so call them, was occupied by four rows of seats
similarly carved in the natural stone; but lined after Martial
fashion, with cushions embroidered in feathers and metals, and covered
by woven fabrics finer than any known to the looms of Lyons or
Cashmere. About two-thirds of the seats were occupied; those to the
right as we entered (that is, on the left of the dais at the end of
the hall) by men, those opposite by women. All, I observed, rose for a
moment as Eveena's name was announced, from the further end of the
hall, by the foremost of three or four persons vested in silver, with
belts of the crimson metal which plays the part of our best-tempered
steel, and bearing in their hands wands of a rose-coloured jewel
resembling a clouded onyx in all but the hue. Each of them wore over
his dress a band or sash of gold, fastened on the left shoulder and
descending to the belt on the right, much resembling the ribbons of
European knighthood. These supported on the left breast a silver star,
or heraldic mullet, of six points. Throughout the rest of the assembly
a similar but smaller star glimmered on every breast, supported,
however, by green or silver bands, the former worn by the body of the
assembly, the latter by a few persons gathered together for the most
part at the upper end of the chamber.... The chief who had first
addressed us bade us pass on, and we left the Hall of the Novitiate as
accepted members of the Order.... That into which we next entered was
so dark that its form and dimensions were scarcely defined to my eyes.
I supposed it, however, to be circular, surmounted by a dome
resembling in colour the olive green Martial sky and spangled by
stars, among which I discerned one or two familiar constellations, but
most distinctly, brightened far beyond its natural brilliancy, the
arch of the _Via Lactea_. Presently, not on any apparent sheet or
screen but as in the air before us, appeared a narrow band of light
crossing the entire visible space. It resembled a rope twisted of
three strands, two of a deep dull hue, the one apparently orange, the
other brown or crimson, contrasting the far more brilliant emerald
strand that formed the third portion of the threefold cord. I had
learnt by this time that metallic cords so twined serve in Mars most
of the uses for which chains are employed on Earth, and I assumed that
this symbol possessed the significance which poetry or ritual might
attach to the latter.
This cord or band retained its position throughout, crossing the dark
background of the scenes now successively presented, each of which
melted into its successor—rapidly, but so gradually that there was
never a distinct point of division, a moment at which it was possible
to say that any new feature was first introduced.
A bright mist of various colours intermixed in inextricable confusion,
an image of chaos but for the dim light reflected from all the
particles, filled a great part of the space before us, but the cord
was still discernible in the background. Presently, a bright
rose-coloured point of light, taking gradually the form of an Eye,
appeared above the cord and beyond the mist; and, emanating from it, a
ray of similar light entered the motionless vapour. Then a movement,
whose character it was not easy to discern, but which constantly
became more and more evidently rhythmical and regular, commenced in
the mist. Within a few moments the latter had dissolved, leaving in
its place the semblance of stars, star-clusters, and golden nebulae,
as dim and confused as that in the sword-belt of Orion, or as well
defined as any of those called by astronomers planetary.
"What seest thou?" said a voice whose very direction I could not
recognise.
"Cosmos evolved out of confusion by Law; Law emanating from Supreme
Wisdom and irresistible Will."
"And in the triple band?"
"The continuity of Time and Space preserved by the continuity of Law,
and controlled by the Will that gave Law."
While I spoke a single nebula grew larger, brighter, and filled the
entire space given throughout to the pictures presented to us; stars
and star-clusters gradually fading away into remoter distance. This
nebula, of spherical shape—formed of coarser particles than the
previous mist, and reflecting or radiating a more brilliant
effulgence—was in rapid whirling motion. It flattened into the form
of a disc, apparently almost circular, of considerable depth or
thickness, visibly denser in the centre and thinner towards the
rounded edge. Presently it condensed and contracted, leaving at each
of the several intervals a severed ring. Most of these rings broke up,
their fragments conglomerated and forming a sphere; one in particular
separating into a multitude of minuter spheres, others assuming a
highly elliptical form, condensing here and thinning out there; while
the central mass grew brighter and denser as it contracted; till there
lay before me a perfect miniature of the solar system, with planets,
satellites, asteroids, and meteoric rings.
"What seest thou?" again I heard.
"Intelligence directing Will, and Will by Law developing the microcosm
of which this world is one of the smallest parts."
The orb which represented Mars stood still in the centre of the space,
and this orb soon occupied the whole area. It assumed at first the
form of a vast vaporous globe; then contracted to a comparatively
small sphere, glowing as if more than red-hot, and leaving as it
contracted two tiny balls revolving round their primary. The latter
gradually faded till it gave out no light but that which from some
unseen source was cast upon it, one-half consequently contrasting in
darkness the reflected brightness of the other. Ere long it presented
the appearance of sea and land, of cloud, of snow, and ice, and became
a perfect image of the Martial sphere. Then it gave place to a globe
of water alone, within which the processes of crystallisation, as
exhibited first in its simpler then in its more complicated forms,
were beautifully represented. Then there appeared, I knew not how, but
seemingly developed by the same agency and in the same manner as the
crystals, a small transparent sphere within the watery globe,
containing itself a spherical nucleus. From this were evolved
gradually two distinct forms, one resembling very much some of the
simplest of those transparent creatures which the microscope exhibits
to us in the water drop, active, fierce, destructive in their scale of
size and life as the most powerful animals of the sea and land. The
other was a tiny fragment of tissue, gradually shaping itself into the
simplest and smallest specimens of vegetable life. The watery globe
disappeared, and these two were left alone. From each gradually
emerged, growing in size, complexity, and distinctness, one form after
another of higher organisation.
"What seest thou?"
"Life called out of lifelessness by Law."
Again, so gradually that no step of the process could be separately
distinguished, formed a panorama of vegetable and animal life; a
landscape in which appeared some dozen primal shapes of either
kingdom. Each of these gradually dissolved, passing by slow degrees
into several higher or more perfect shapes, till there stood before
our eyes a picture of life as it exists at present; and Man in its
midst, more obviously even than on Earth, dominating and subduing the
fellow-creatures of whom he is lord. From which of the innumerable
animal forms that had been presented to us in the course of these
transmutations this supreme form had arisen, I did not note or cannot
remember. But that no true ape appeared among them, I do distinctly
recollect, having been on the watch for the representation of such an
epoch in the pictured history.
What was now especially noteworthy was that, solid as they appeared,
each form was in some way transparent. From the Emblem before
mentioned a rose-coloured light pervaded the scene; scarcely
discernible in the general atmosphere, faintly but distinctly
traceable in every herb, shrub, and tree, more distinguishable and
concentrated in each animal. But in plant or animal the condensed
light was never separated and individualised, never parted from,
though obviously gathered and agglomerated out of, the generally
diffused rosy sheen that tinged the entire landscape. It was as though
the rose-coloured light formed an atmosphere which entered and passed
freely through the tissues of each animal and plant, but brightened
and deepened in those portions which at any moment pervaded any
organised shape, while it flowed freely in and out of all. The
concentration was most marked, the connection with the diffused
atmosphere least perceptible, in those most intelligent creatures,
like the _ambâ_ and _carve_, which in the service of man appear to
have acquired a portion of human intelligence. But turning to the type
of Man himself, the light within his body had assumed the shape of the
frame it filled and appeared to animate. In him the rose-coloured
image which exactly corresponded to the body that encased it was
perfectly individualised, and had no other connection with the
remainder of the light than that it appeared to emanate and to be fed
from the original source. As I looked, the outward body dissolved, the
image of rosy light stood alone, as human and far more beautiful than
before, rose upward, and passed away.
"What seest thou?" was uttered in an even more earnest and solemn tone
than heretofore.
"Life," I said, "physical and spiritual; the one sustained by the
other, the spiritual emanating from the Source of Life, pervading all
living forms, affording to each the degree of individuality and of
intelligence needful to it, but in none forming an individual entity
apart from the race, save in Man himself; and in Man forming the
individual being, whereof the flesh is but the clothing and the
instrument."
The whole scene suddenly vanished in total darkness; only again in one
direction a gleam of light appeared, and guided us to a portal through
which we entered another long and narrow passage, terminating in a
second vestibule before a door of emerald crystal, brilliantly
illuminated by a light within. Here, again, our steps were arrested.
The door was guarded by two sentries, in whom I recognised Initiates
of the Order, wearers of the silver sash and star. The password and
sign, whispered to me as we left the Hall of the Novitiate, having
been given, the door parted and exposed to our view the inmost
chamber, a scene calculated to strike the eye and impress the mind not
more by its splendour and magnificence than by the unexpected
character it displayed. It represented a garden, but the boundaries
were concealed by the branching trees, the arches of flowering
creepers, the thickets of flowers, shrubs, and tall reeds, which in
every direction imitated so perfectly the natural forms that the
closest scrutiny would have been required to detect their
artificiality. The general form, however, seemed to be that of a
square entered by a very short, narrow passage, and divided by broad
paths, forming a cross of equal arms. At the central point of this
cross was placed on a pedestal of emerald a statue in gold, which
recalled at once the features of the Founder. The space might have
accommodated two thousand persons, but on the seats—of a material
resembling ivory, each of them separately formed and gathered in
irregular clusters—there were not, I thought, more than four hundred
or five hundred men and women intermingled; the former dressed for the
most part in green, the latter in pink or white, and all wearing the
silver band and star. At the opposite end, closing the central aisle,
was a low narrow platform raised by two steps carved out of the
natural rock, but inlaid with jewellery imitating closely the
variegated turf of a real garden. On this were placed, slanting
backward towards the centre, two rows of six golden seats or thrones,
whose occupants wore the golden band over silver robes. That next the
interval, but to the left, was filled by Esmo, who to my surprise wore
a robe of white completely covering his figure, and contrasting
signally the golden sash to which his star was attached. On his left
arm, bare below the elbow, I noticed a flat thick band of plain gold,
with an emerald seal, bearing the same proportion to the bracelet as a
large signet to its finger ring. What struck me at once as most
remarkable was, that the seats on the dais and the forms of their
occupiers were signally relieved against a background of intense
darkness, whose nature, however, I could not discern. The roof was in
form a truncated pyramid; its material a rose-coloured crystal,
through which a clear soft light illuminated the whole scene. Across
the floor of the entrance, immediately within the portal, was a broad
band of the same crystal, marking the formal threshold of the Hall.
Immediately inside this stood the same Chief who had received us in
the former Hall; and as we stood at the door, stretching forth his
left hand, he spoke, or rather chanted, what, by the rhythmical
sequence of the words, by the frequent recurrence of alliteration and
irregular rhyme, was evidently a formula committed to the verse of the
Martial tongue: a formula, like all those of the Order, never written,
but handed down by memory, and therefore, perhaps, cast in a shape
which rendered accurate remembrance easier and more certain.
"Ye who, lost in outer night,
Reach at last the Source of Light,
Ask ye in that light to dwell?
None we urge and none repel;
Opens at your touch the door,
Bright within the lamp of lore.
Yet beware! The threshold passed,
Fixed the bond, the ball is cast.
Failing heart or faltering feet
Find nor pardon nor retreat.
Loyal faith hath guerdon given
Boundless as the star-sown Heaven;
Horror fathomless and gloom
Rayless veil the recreant's doom.
Warned betimes, in time beware—Freely
turn, or frankly swear."
"What am I to swear?" I asked.
A voice on my left murmured in a low tone the formula, which I
repeated, Eveena accompanying my words in an almost inaudible
whisper—
"Whatsoe'er within the Shrine
Eyes may see or soul divine,
Swear we secret as the deep,
Silent as the Urn to keep.
By the Light we claim to share,
By the Fount of Light, we swear."
As these words were uttered, I became aware that some change had taken
place at the further end of the Hall. Looking up, the dark background
had disappeared, and under a species of deep archway, behind the seats
of the Chiefs, was visible a wall diapered in ruby and gold, and
displaying in various interwoven patterns the several symbols of the
Zinta. Towards the roof, exactly in the centre, was a large silver
star, emitting a light resembling that which the full moon sheds on a
tropical scene, but far more brilliant. Around this was a broad golden
circle or band; and beneath, the silver image of a serpent—perfectly
reproducing a typical terrestrial snake, but coiled, as no snake ever
coils itself, in a double circle or figure of eight, with the tail
wound around the neck. On the left was a crimson shield or what seemed
to be such, small, round, and swelling in the centre into a sharp
point; on the right three crossed spears of silver with crimson blades
pointed upward. But the most remarkable object—immediately filling
the interval between the seats of the Chiefs, and carved from a huge
cubic block of emerald—was a Throne, ascended on each side by five or
six steps, the upper step or seat extending nearly across the whole
some two feet below the surface, the next forming a footstool thereto.
Above this was a canopy, seemingly self-supported, of circular form. A
chain formed by interlaced golden circles was upheld by four great
emerald wings. Within the chain, again, was the silver Serpent, coiled
as before and resting upon a surface of foliage and flowers. In the
centre of all was repeated the silver Star within the golden band; the
emblem from which the Order derives its name, and in which it embodies
its deepest symbolism. Following again the direction of my unseen
prompter, I repeated words which may be roughly translated as
follows:—
"By the outer Night of gloom,
By the ray that leads us home,
By the Light we claim to share,
By the Fount of Light, we swear.
Prompt obedience, heart and hand,
To the Signet's each command:
For the Symbols, reverence mute,
In the Sense faith absolute.
Link by link to weld the Chain,
Link with link to bear the strain;
Cherish all the Star who wear,
As the Starlight's self—we swear.
By the Life the Light to prove,
In the Circle's bound to move;
Underneath the all-seeing Eye
Act, nor speak, nor think the lie;
Live, as warned that Life shall last,
And the Future reap the Past:
Clasp in faith the Serpent's rings,
Trust through death the Emerald Wings,
Hand and voice we plight the Oath:
Fade the life ere fail the troth!"
Rising from his seat and standing immediately before and to the left
of the Throne, Esmo replied. But before he had spoken half-a-dozen
words, a pressure on my arm drew my eyes from him to Eveena. She stood
fixed as if turned to stone, in an attitude which for one fleeting
instant recalled that of the sculptured figures undergoing sudden
petrifaction at the sight of the Gorgon's head. This remembered
resemblance, or an instinctive sympathy, at once conveyed to me the
consciousness that the absolute stillness of her attitude expressed a
horror or an awe too deep for trembling. Looking into her eyes, which
alone were visible, their gaze fixed intently on the Throne, at once
caught and controlled my own; and raising my eyes again to the same
point, I stood almost equally petrified by consternation and
amazement. I need not say how many marvels of no common character I
have seen on Earth; how many visions that, if I told them, none who
have not shared them would believe; wonders that the few who have seen
them can never forget, nor—despite all experience and all theoretical
explanation—recall without renewing the thrill of awe-stricken dismay
with which the sight was first beheld. But no marvel of the Mystic
Schools, no spectral scene, objective or subjective, ever evoked by
the rarest of occult powers, so startled, so impressed me as what I
now saw, or thought I saw. The Throne, on which but a few moments
before my eyes had been steadily fixed, and which had then assuredly
been vacant, was now occupied; and occupied by a Presence which,
though not seen in the flesh for ages, none who had ever looked on the
portrait that represented it could forget or mistake. The form, the
dress, the long white hair and beard, the grave, dignified
countenance, above all the deep, scrutinising, piercing eyes of the
Founder—as I had seen them on a single occasion in Esmo's house—were
now as clearly, as forcibly, presented to my sight as any figure in
the flesh I ever beheld. The eyes were turned on me with a calm,
searching, steady gaze, whose effect was such as Southey ascribes to
Indra's:—
"The look he gave was solemn, not severe;
No hope to Kailyal it conveyed,
And yet it struck no fear."
For a moment they rested on Eveena's veiled and drooping figure with a
widely different expression. That look, as I thought, spoke a grave
but passionless regret or pity, as of one who sees a child
unconsciously on the verge of peril or sorrow that admits neither of
warning nor rescue. That look happily she did not read; but we both
saw the same object and in the same instant; we both stood amazed and
appalled long enough to render our hesitation not only apparent, but
striking to all around, many of whom, following the direction of my
gaze, turned their eyes upon the Throne. What they saw or did not see
I know not, and did not then care to think. The following formula,
pronounced by Esmo, had fallen not unheard, but almost unheeded on my
ears, though one passage harmonised strangely with the sight before
me:—
"Passing sign and fleeting breath
Bind the Soul for life and death!
Lifted hand and plighted word
Eyes have seen and ears have heard;
Eyes have seen—nor ours alone;
Fell the sound on ears unknown.
Age-long labour, strand by strand,
Forged the immemorial band;
Never thread hath known decay,
Never link hath dropped away."
Here he paused and beckoned us to advance. The sign, twice repeated
before I could obey it, at last broke the spell that enthralled me.
Under the most astounding or awe-striking circumstances, instinct
moves our limbs almost in our own despite, and leads us to do with
paralysed will what has been intended or is expected of us. This
instinct, and no conscious resolve to overcome the influence that held
me spell-bound, enabled me to proceed; and I led Eveena forward by
actual if gentle force, till we reached the lower step of the
platform. Here, at a sign from her father, we knelt, while, laying his
hands on our heads, and stooping to kiss each upon the brow—Eveena
raising her veil for one moment and dropping it again—he continued—
"So we greet you evermore,
Brethren of the deathless Lore;
So your vows our own renew,
Sworn to all as each to you.
Yours at once the secrets won
Age by age, from sire to son;
Yours the fruit through countless years
Grown by thought and toil and tears.
He who guards you guards his own,
He who fails you fails the Throne."
The last two lines were repeated, as by a simultaneous impulse, in a
low but audible tone by the whole assembly. In the meantime Esmo had
invested each of us with the symbol of our enrolment in the Zinta, the
silver sash and Star of the Initiates. The ceremonial seemed to me to
afford that sort of religious sanction and benediction which had been
so signally wanting to the original form of our union. As we rose I
turned my eyes for a moment upon the Throne, now vacant as at first.
Another Chief, followed by the voices of the assembly, repeated, in a
low deep tone, which fell on our ears as distinctly as the loudest
trumpet-note in the midst of absolute silence, the solemn
imprecation—
"Who denies a brother's need,
Who in will, or word, or deed,
Breaks the Circle's bounded line,
Rends the Veil that guards the Shrine,
Lifts the hand to lips that lie,
Fronts the Star with soothless eye:—.
Dreams of horror haunt his rest,
Storms of madness vex his breast,
Snares surround him, Death beset,
Man forsake—and God forget!"
It was probably rather the tone of profound conviction and almost
tremulous awe with which these words were slowly enunciated by the
entire assemblage, than their actual sense, though the latter is
greatly weakened by my translation, that gave them an effect on my own
mind such as no oath and no rite, however solemn, no religious
ceremonial, no forms of the most secret mysteries, had ever produced.
I was not surprised that Eveena was far more deeply affected. Even the
earlier words of the imprecation had caused her to shudder; and ere it
closed she would have sunk to the ground, but for the support of my
arm. Disengaging the bracelet, Esmo held out to our lips the signet,
which, as I now perceived, reproduced in miniature the symbols that
formed the canopy above the throne. A few moments of deep and solemn
silence had elapsed, when one of the Chiefs, who, except Esmo, had now
resumed their seats, rose, and addressing himself to the latter,
said—
"The Initiate has shown in the Hall of the Vision a knowledge of the
sense embodied in our symbols, of the creed and thoughts drawn from
them, which he can hardly have learned in the few hours that have
elapsed since you first spoke to him of their existence. If there be
not in his world those who have wrought out for themselves similar
truths in not dissimilar forms, he must possess a rare and almost
instinctive power to appreciate the lessons we can teach. I will ask
your permission, therefore, to put to him but one question, and that
the deepest and most difficult of all."
Esmo merely bent his head in reply.
"Can you," said the speaker, turning to me with marked courtesy, "draw
meaning or lesson from the self-entwined coil of the Serpent?"
I need not repeat an answer which, to those familiar with the oldest
language of Terrestrial symbolism, would have occurred as readily as
to myself; and which, if they could understand it, it would not be
well to explain to others. The three principal elements of thought
represented by the doubly-coiled serpent are the same in Mars as on
Earth, confirming in so far the doctrine of the Zinta, that their
symbolic language is not arbitrary, but natural, formed on principles
inherent in the correspondence between things spiritual and physical.
Some similar but trivial query, whose purport I have now forgotten,
was addressed by the junior of the Chiefs to Eveena; and I was struck
by the patient courtesy with which he waited till, after two or three
efforts, she sufficiently recovered her self-possession to understand
and her voice to answer. We then retired, taking our place on seats
remote from the platform, and at some distance from any of our
neighbours.
On a formal invitation, one after another of the brethren rose and
read a brief account of some experiment or discovery in the science of
the Order. The principles taken for granted as fundamental and
notorious truths far transcend the extremest speculations of
Terrestrial mysticism. The powers claimed as of course so infinitely
exceed anything alleged by the most ardent believers in mesmerism,
clairvoyance, or spiritualism, that it would be useless to relate the
few among these experiments which I remember and might be permitted to
repeat. I observed that a phonographic apparatus of a peculiarly
elaborate character wrote down every word of these accounts without
obliging the speakers to approach it; and I was informed that this
automatic reporting is employed in every Martial assembly, scientific,
political, or judicial.
I listened with extreme interest, and was more than satisfied that
Esmo had even underrated the powers claimed by and for the lowest and
least intelligent of his brethren, when he said that these, and these
alone, could give efficient protection or signal vengeance against all
the tremendous physical forces at command of those State authorities,
one of the greatest of whom I had made my personal enemy. One
battalion of Martial guards or police, accompanied by a single battery
of what I may call their artillery, might, even without the aid of a
balloon-squadron, in half-an-hour annihilate or scatter to the winds
the mightiest and bravest army that Europe could send forth. Yet the
Martial State had deliberately, and, I think, with only a due
prudence, shrunk during ages from an open conflict of power with the
few thousand members of this secret but inevitably suspected
organisation.
Esmo called on me in my turn to give such account as I might choose of
my own world, and my journey thence. I frankly avowed my indisposition
to explain the generation and action of the apergic force. The power
which a concurrent knowledge of two separate kinds of science had
given to a very few Terrestrials, and which all the science of a far
more enlightened race had failed to attain, was in my conscientious
conviction a Providential trust; withheld from those in whose hands it
might be a fearful temptation and an instrument of unbounded evil. My
reserve was perfectly intelligible to the Children of the Star, and
evidently raised me in their estimation. I was much impressed by the
simple and unaffected reliance placed on my statements, as on those of
every other member of the Order. As a rule, Martialists are loth, and
not without reason, to believe any unsupported statement that might be
prompted by interest or vanity. But the _Zveltau_ can trust one
another's word more fully than the followers of Mahomet that of his
strictest disciples, or the most honest nations of the West the most
solemn oaths of their citizens; while that bigotry of scientific
unbelief, that narrowness of thought which prevails among their
countrymen, has been dispelled by their wider studies and loftier
interests. They have a saying, whose purport might be rendered in the
proverbial language of the Aryans by saying that the liar "kills the
goose that lays the golden eggs." Again, "The liar is like an
opiatised tunneller" (miner), i.e., more likely to blow himself to
pieces than to effect his purpose. Again, "The liar drives the point
into a friend's heart, and puts the hilt into a foe's hand." The maxim
that "a lie is a shield in sore need, but the spear of a scoundrel,"
affirms the right in extremity to preserve a secret from impertinent
inquisitiveness. Rarely, but on some peculiarly important occasions,
the Zveltau avouch their sincerity by an appeal to their own symbols;
and it is affirmed that an oath attested by the Circle and the Star
has never, in the lapse of ages, been broken or evaded.
Before midnight Esmo dismissed the assembly by a formula which dimly
recalled to memory one heard in my boyhood. It is not in the power of
my translation to preserve the impressive solemnity of the immemorial
ritual of the Zinta, deepened alike by the earnestness of its
delivery, and the reverence of the hearers. There was something
majestic in the mere antiquity of a liturgy whereof no word has ever
been committed to writing. Five hundred generations have, it is
alleged, gathered four times in each year in the Hall of Initiation;
and every meeting has been concluded by the utterance from the same
spot and in the same words of the solemn but simple _Zulvakalfe_ [word
of peace]:—
"Peace be with you, near and far,
Children of the Silver Star;
Lore undoubting, conscience clean,
Hope assured, and life serene.
By the Light that knows no flaw,
By the Circle's perfect law,
By the Serpent's life renewed,
By the Wings' similitude—
Peace be yours no force can break;
Peace not death hath power to shake;
Peace from passion, sin, and gloom,
Peace of spirit, heart, and home;
Peace from peril, fear, and pain;
Peace, until we meet again—
Meet—before yon sculptured stone,
Or the All-Commander's Throne."
Before we finally parted, Esmo gave me two or three articles to which
he attached especial value. The most important of these was a small
cube of translucent stone, in which a multitude of diversely coloured
fragments were combined; so set in a tiny swivel or swing of gold that
it might be conveniently attached to the watch-chain, the only
Terrestrial article that I still wore. "This," he said, "will test
nearly every poison known to our science; each poison discolouring for
a time one or another of the various substances of which it is
composed; and poison is perhaps the weapon least unlikely to be
employed against you when known to be connected with myself, and, I
will hope, to possess the favour of the Sovereign. If you are curious
to verify its powers, the contents of the tiny medicine-chest I have
given you will enable you to do so. There is scarcely one of those
medicines which is not a single or a combined poison of great power. I
need not warn you to be careful lest you give to any one the means of
reaching them. I have shown you the combination of magnets which will
open each of your cases; that demanded by the chest is the most
complicated of all, and one which can hardly be hit upon by accident.
Nor can any one force or pick open a case locked by our electric
apparatus, save by cutting to pieces the metal of the case itself, and
this only special tools will accomplish; and, unless peculiarly
skilful, the intruder would 'probably be maimed or paralysed, if not
killed by ...
VOL. II
"Thoughts he sends to each planet,
Uranus, Venus, and Mars;
Soars to the Centre to span it,
Numbers the infinite Stars."
_Courthope's Paradise of Birds_