by John Munro
CHAPTER IX.
THE FLOWER OF THE SOUL.
Early on the chief day of the festival Otare came and took us to see themystical rite of cutting the "Flower of the Soul."
The morning was fine, and the clear waters of the lake were bright withboats filled with joyous parties bound like ourselves for the HolyIsland.
Landing at a noble quay of red granite, we climbed the steep and shaggysides of the mountain by a sacred and winding avenue, bordered withblooming trees and statuary. Most of the figures were exquisitely carvedin a white wood or stone, having a pearly sheen, and represented theformer priestesses of the Temple, or illustrated the animating spirit ofthe cult.
On gaining the summit we found ourselves at the brim of a spacioushollow or basin, which in past ages must have been the crater of thevolcanic peak. The grassy slopes of the basin were laid out in flowergardens and terraces of coloured marbles, shaded with sombre trees, andornamented with sculpture. In the bottom lay an oval sheet of water amile long or more, and from the midst of it, towards the near end, abeautiful islet, crowned by a magnificent temple, rose like a mirage tothe view, and seemed to float on its glassy bosom.
Words of mine cannot give any idea of that sublime architecture, whichresembled no earthly order, though it seemed to partake of both theSaracenic and the Indian. Fragrant timber, precious stones, andburnished metals; in fine, the richest materials known to the builders,had been united with consummate art into one harmonious emblem of theirfaith. The first beams of the rising sun blazed on its golden roof andfretted pinnacles of diamond, and ruby, sapphire, topaz, and emerald;but the lower part was still in shadow. Nevertheless, we coulddistinguish a grand portal in the southern front, which faced the sun,and a broad flight of marble steps descending from it into the water;but the massive doors were shut, and not a soul was to be seen about thetemple.
As the worshippers arrived they seated themselves on the turf amongstthe flowering shrubs, or on the benches along the terraces, and eitherspoke in subdued tones, or preserved a religious silence. Otare led usto a kind of throne or stand facing the temple, and raised above theother seats, where his father, as chief of the community, sat in state.Dinus received us with his usual gracious dignity, and gave us chairs onhis right and left hand.
From this height we enjoyed a splendid panorama of the Craterland, atleast that portion which had already caught the sunshine. It lay beneathus like a picture, the surface rising in a series of zones from thecentral sea, which mirrored the serene azure and plume-like vapours ofthe heavens, through the sweet meadows, and the smiling gardens, to theluxuriant wilderness beyond; and we could plainly see the shadow of thebounding rampart shrink towards the south as the sun mounted higher andhigher.
It was a lovely dawn. A rosy mist hung like a veil of gauze over thesouthern sky, and from behind a bar of purple cloud, lined with gold,which rested on the summit of the cliffs, a coronet of auroral beams orcrepuscular rays, blue on a pink ground, shot upwards, heralding theadvent of the sun, and reminding me of the ancient simile of the earthas a bride awaiting the arrival of her lord.
At length the first glowing tip of the solar disc peeped over the rimof the crater, and a deep low murmur, swelling to a shrill cry, ascendedfrom the passive multitude.
All the people rose to their feet, and every eye was turned on the southfront of the temple, which was now illuminated to the edge of the water.As the sunlight crept over the surface it sparkled on the dense foliageof what seemed a bed of water-lilies flourishing quite close to themarble stairs.
Presently a rich and stately barge, moved by crimson oars, and enlivenedwith young girls draped in sky-blue, was seen to glide round a corner ofthe temple, and come to rest beside the water-lilies.
A deep silence, as of breathless expectation, fell upon the vastassembly, and then, without other warning, the great purple doors of thetemple swung open, and revealed a white-robed figure walking at the headof a glittering procession of maidens decked in jewels and luminousscarves, which vied with the colours of the rainbow. It was the youngpriestess and her train of virgins.
Simultaneously the immense multitude raised their voices in a sacredhymn of melting sweetness, very low at first, but gathering volume asthe priestess descended the marble stairs to the waterside.
Here, on the lowest of the steps, one of her maidens put into her handa sacred knife or sickle, which, as Otare informed us had a blade ofgold, and a handle of opal. The woman then retired, and we saw her standerect for a moment in the full blaze of the mellow sunlight, with hergolden hair falling about her in a kind of glory, and stretch out herarms towards the sun in a superb attitude of adoration. Then, with aslow and swan-like movement, she entered the water, and wading among thelilies, cut the sacred blossom, and held it aloft in triumph, while themusic swelled to a mighty paean of thanksgiving and praise.
After that she went on board the barge, which had been waiting for her,and was rowed around the border of the lake not far from the shore, sothat the onlookers might see the loveliness of the flower, and evensmell its perfume. The barge was not unlike an ancient galley in shape,but ornately curved like the proa of a South Sea Islander. The rowerswere concealed underneath the deck, but the crimson oars kept time tothe music of their voices, and the spectators joined in the song as thevessel glided onwards.
As for the priestess, she lay reclining under a golden canopy on thepoop, with her face half turned towards the people, and holding thesacred lily in her hand, whilst two of her maidens fanned her withbrilliant plumes,
"And made their bends adorning."
Ever since she had come out of the temple I had scarcely taken my eyesoff her, and now that I could see the marvellous beauty of hercountenance, I was absolutely fascinated. Never shall I forget thesemoments as long as I live, and yet I cannot give a clear and connectedrelation of them. I see only a picture in my mind of a purple couchunder a golden canopy, a fair form, a beautiful head crowned with goldenhair, a glowing arm holding a white flower on its long green stalk.Suddenly, as if impelled by an instinct, she turns her face full upon meas the barge comes opposite to her father's throne. I see her greatviolet eyes fixed upon mine as though she would read into my very soul.I do not shrink from that pure search. On the contrary, I feel myselfdrawn towards her by an irresistible attraction, and return her gaze.
She does not look away. She smiles--yes, she smiles upon me, andinclines her head to see me, like a sunflower following the sun, as sheis floating past.
From that moment I was an altered man. The vision of that peerlessbeauty had worked a miracle in my nature. A strange peace, anunfathomable joy, I should rather say an ecstacy of bliss, reigned in myheart. I felt that I had found something for which my soul had cravedwithout knowing it, and had been seeking unawares--something beyond allprice, which is not merely the best that life, eternity, can offer; butgives to life, eternity, an inestimable value--I felt that I had foundthe counterpart of myself--the celestial mate of my spirit. Henceforththere was only one woman in the world, in the universe, for me. Amysterious instinct whispered that we belonged to each other--that thisincomparable creature was mine by an inviolable right, if not on thisside of time at all events hereafter, and for ever. I felt, too, that myown being had now completed its development, and burst into bloom like aplant under the vivifying rays of the sun.
Exulting in my new-found happiness, and overcome with gratitude for it,I watched the receding boat in a sort of trance until the matter-of-factvoice of Gazen broke the spell.
"Prettiest sight I ever saw in my life," said he to Otare. "Quite aliving picture."
"I am glad you like it," responded Otare evidently gratified.
"But what is the good of it?" enquired the professor.
"The good of it?" rejoined the Venusian; "it is beautiful, and gives uspleasure."
"Oh, of course; but what is the meaning--the inner meaning of it?"
"Ah! the meaning of it," said Otare, a new light breaking on him, "Iwill explain. Y
ou saw the flower which the priestess cut and carried inher hand--?"
"A kind of water-lily, is it not?"
"Yes, it is the Sacred Lily. The plant is rooted in the mire at thebottom of the pond, and grows up through the water to the surface. Thestem rises in a serpentine curve, and terminates in a flower-bud, whichopens with a sigh of delight when the sun strikes upon it, and fills theair with its perfume."
"A sigh, did you say?"
"Yes, a low sweet sound resembling a sigh. The flower is white--'livingwhite'--that is to say, white shot with many colours like the opal. Wecall it the Sun Lily, or 'Flower of the Soul.'"
"Why 'Flower of the Soul?'"
"Because we say it has the infinite and ever-changing beauty of thesoul. It is an emblem of Love, and its manifestations--beauty, genius,holiness. In particular it signifies the birth or awakening of love inthe human soul. As the plant may be said to exist for the flower, itschief glory, so the man attains his perfection through love, whichconfers a boundless and immortal worth upon his life. As the root takesfrom the soil and the flower brings forth the fruit, so hate feeds uponthe ill, and love dies for the good of others. It also represents thehuman race, for man, and especially woman, may be regarded as the flowerof this lower world. Moreover, the entire plant, root, stem, and flower,is symbolical of all creation, and some of our poets have named it the'Lily of Life.' For as the plant begins in the black earth to end in thesunny ether, so the world, the universe, begins in chaos and darkness,to end in light and order; begins in matter and force, to end in lifeand spirit--begins in hate and selfishness, to end in love andself-sacrifice--begins in ugliness, to end in beauty. Thus the flowerand root stand for the upper and lower limits or poles of nature, andthe stalk which joins them for the upward range or path of creation. Itis a beautiful stem, curving in opposite ways like a serpent, or theside of a wave; in fact, it is the most beautiful curve we know--it runslike this."
Here Otare described a flamboyant curve in the air with his finger.
"If I'm not mistaken it is what our artists call the 'line of beauty,'"observed Gazen.
"Oh, indeed!" responded Otare, with pleased surprise. "Well, with us itis a symbol of the continuous unfolding of things; the graceful progressof development."
"So the path of evolution is the 'line of beauty,'" said the professor.
"Apparently," rejoined Otare, "and as the ends of the curve pointoppositely, we say that a thing has not reached its final stage--thatits development is not complete--until it has turned to its opposite.Thus man is not a finished being until hate and selfishness have turnedto love and self-sacrifice. The flower of the soul is love, and as thesun is an emblem of the divine love, when the sacred lily opens anddisplays all its beauty in the sunshine, it means to us that the flowerof the soul blooms in the smile of 'The Giver.'"
"I see," said the professor; "and what is done with the flower?"
"It is an offering," replied Otare, "and after the Priestess of theLily, or Priestess of the Sun, as we call her, has shown it to thepeople it will be treasured in the temple, and will never fade."
"Beautiful woman, the priestess! And so young."
"She is barely seventeen. The Priestess of the Sun Lily must be in theflower of her age, and the early dawn of her womanhood. Every year bythe popular voice she is chosen from all the maidens of the country forher intelligence, beauty, and goodness. For a year before the ceremonyshe lives in the temple with her maidens, and never leaves the sacredisland, or has any visitors from the outer world. During this period sheundergoes a preparation and purification for the fulfilment of her holyoffice--the culling of the flower. It consists mainly in the study ofour sacred writings, the eating of a certain food, and bathing in thewaters of a holy fountain, which issues from the rock in a sacred grottoof the island. When the ceremony of cutting the lily is over, and theholy month has expired, that is to say in ten days from now, she willleave the temple and return to her family. Another girl will take herplace--the priestess appointed for the coming year--in fact, the maidenwho gave her the sickle."
I had listened to this conversation with breathless interest, butwithout daring to take part in it.
"Will she ever marry?" enquired Gazen.
I waited for the answer with a beating heart.
"Oh, yes," replied Otare, "why not? She will marry if she finds a loverwhom she can love. There are many who admire Alumion."
"What of yourself?" asked the professor, smiling pointedly. "You seem toknow a good deal about her."
"I am her brother."
Nothing more was said, for at this moment the barge was seen coming frombehind the temple, after having made a round of the spectators, andpresently drew up at the marble stairs. Again the doors swung open, andthe maidens reappeared to welcome their mistress with a song of joy. Isaw her ascend the steps bearing the lily in her hand, then turn andwave an adieu to the multitude, who responded by a parting hymn as thegreat purple valves closed together and rapt her from my sight.
