I thus explain the destruction of Atlantis—land of the beautiful, land of gold, of knowledge, of science, art, music; all that man beneath God perfecteth added to God's own work.
This is how I explain the destruction of Atlantis. It was the land of the beautiful, the land of gold, of knowledge, of science, art, and music. There, all that man perfects under God was added to God's own work.
Aye, beauty of form as well, for died at birth the child who bore not the imprint of the higher model in perfect form, lacking naught that would please the eye of man, or god, they taught, for the people of that lost land worshipped as did we of Egypt.
Yes, beauty of form as well. For the child who did not bear, in perfect form, the imprint of the higher model died at birth. That model lacked nothing that would please the eye of man, or of god, so they taught. For the people of that lost land worshipped as we of Egypt did.
But to the theme again I turn.
Let's get back to the main point.
No curse weighted the atmosphere nor brought harmful conditions upon the land as hath been asserted. The unfixed condition of worlds at that early age caused the vast upheaval which destroyed the fairest spot the sun has shone upon in its rounds of aeons.
No curse weighed on the atmosphere or brought harmful conditions on the land, as has been claimed. The unsettled condition of the worlds in that early age caused the vast upheaval. It destroyed the fairest spot the sun has shone on in its rounds through the aeons.
Law did not then as now exist, perfected through the patient ellipse of centuries, aye, aeons, that brought to one great focus the lines which denote a perfect balance of globes, descending at a certain ratio as they meet at one fixed point, to continue their round to other point, assigned through law which hath adjusted the motion of the moving bodies designated as Moon, Stars, Earth.
The law of the heavens did not exist then as it does now. It has been perfected through the patient ellipse of centuries, yes, of aeons. That ellipse brought to one great focus the lines that mark a perfect balance of globes. The globes descend at a certain ratio as they meet at one fixed point, and then continue their round to another point. That point is assigned through the law that has adjusted the motion of the moving bodies called Moon, Stars, and Earth.
The law was not perfected which adjusts gravity and points to danger signals, known in nature by those so-called senseless objects and by them avoided.
The law that adjusts gravity was not yet perfected. This is the law that points to danger signals, which the so-called senseless objects of nature know and avoid.
Not by the higher Intelligence are they guided, but by the intelligence of Law which all, so named, inanimate things possess.
They are not guided by a higher Intelligence, but by the intelligence of natural law that all so-called inanimate objects possess.
We who create not globes cannot explain the inner working of this law, which regulates the revolvement and growth of bodies whose vastness strikes with awe the minds of men.
Those of us who don't create planets can't explain the inner workings of this law that governs the rotation and growth of celestial bodies. Their sheer size amazes us.
But we gather from effect what may be termed the "silent" mechanism of those wonders of the Divine and gathering a particle from one direct our attention to still others and, through patient study, the whole plan is borne upon the mind—that reflex of the higher Mind which needeth no toil to perfect that which hath grown from His own growth and is part of His Magnitude.
But from effects we gather what may be called the "silent" mechanism of those wonders of the Divine. Gathering a particle from one, we turn our attention to still others. Through patient study, the whole plan is borne in upon the mind. That mind is a reflection of the higher Mind, which needs no toil to perfect what has grown from his own growth and is part of his Magnitude.
Thou shalt yet see with mortal eyes a spot of that vast Atlantis whose fairness lies beneath the waters.
Someday you will see, with mortal eyes, a spot of that vast Atlantis whose beauty lies beneath the waters.
So plainly marked shall be the spot on which once stood a temple dedicated to Ra, yet not so called by those wise scholars of the sunk land, that thou shalt not mistake the fragment which through the swing of the centuries and the sweep of the cycles hath defied Time and the roll of Eternity.
The site of the ancient temple to Ra will be clearly marked, though the wise scholars of that lost civilization called it by another name. You'll easily recognize the ruins that have withstood the test of time, enduring through countless centuries and eons.
I bear in mind the day when first I peered with soul-eyes into the mysteries of that land from which came mine own fathers and their fathers for generations. The records tell not the date of their abandonment of that early home which has known devastation.
I remember the day I first glimpsed, with my mind's eye, the mysteries of the land my ancestors called home for generations. The records don't reveal when they left that ancient place, which has since fallen into ruin.
I first beheld the figure of a maiden clad in sacrificial robes kneeling at an altar, her face distorted by the death agony, the hands uplifted to the impotent god who scowled upon her body, reft of soul; and then mine eyes turned to the higher plane. The soul was there, all heedless of the form that knelt beneath the waves.
First I saw the figure of a young woman in sacrificial robes, kneeling at an altar. Her face was twisted by the agony of death. Her hands were raised to the powerless god who scowled down on her body, now robbed of its soul. Then my eyes turned to the higher plane. The soul was there, paying no heed to the form that knelt beneath the waves.
And thus I saw them—maid and wife and child—the form—but useless cask which spilled the golden wine that means the breath of God.
I saw them clearly—young girl, wife, and child. Their bodies were like empty vessels, having lost the precious essence of life that is God's gift to us all.
THE DESTRUCTION OF ATLANTIS
THE FALL OF ATLANTIS
The force of will is strong within, but elements do war, and speech from me to thee is difficult; yet thus I tell, as plainly as the powers permit, the history taught me by the lips of him, the ancestor of ten thousand years agone who marked the day of doom to that, his land.
My inner resolve is powerful, but conflicting forces make it hard to communicate clearly with you. Still, I'll relay as best I can the story told to me by my ancestor from ten millennia ago, who witnessed the day his homeland met its fate.
Thou yet shalt see with eyes of flesh, and mind shall drink the wonders on the stone—the carven symbol of a mighty race.
You will see with your own eyes, and your mind will absorb the wonders etched on the stone—the carved symbol of a powerful civilization.
Yea, day had dawned. Not by the Moon's pale ray or starlight's flutter went the land to rest beneath the water, but like wheel of blood the solar orb rose fully.
Dawn had broken. The land didn't sink beneath the waves in the dim light of the moon or the faint twinkle of stars. Instead, the sun rose completely, like a crimson disk.
Just a span it seemed above the water when he who looked from highest point to mark the planet's course as he had been appointed, saw the light and muttered in his beard—a century grown: "God's doom is on us! But one God is there, though others swear that Ab-Dallah, Soam, Phenox, Ram and Ses have equal power with Him, but I say nay, for I have sought in Nature all the tongue that teacheth wisdom. But one God is there!
The sun seemed only a hand's span above the water when the watcher saw the light. He had been appointed to look out from the highest point and mark the planet's course. He muttered into his beard, a century in the growing: "God's doom is on us! There is but one God, though others swear that Ab-Dallah, Soam, Phenox, Ram and Ses have equal power with him. But I say no, for I have searched Nature for every tongue that teaches wisdom. There is but one God!
"And I forebode the doom that doth befall, for hither cometh on the 'wings of Ram' the water's mighty sledge of Death," and folding calmly to his breast the cross—prophetic symbol of his age and mind—he knelt and sought to pray.
"And I foresee the doom that is falling on us, for on the 'wings of Ram' the water's mighty sledge of Death is coming here." Then, calmly folding the cross to his breast, a prophetic symbol of his age and mind, he knelt and tried to pray.
Low down where city's walls were wave-kissed—for the ships to sail from, drift to, for the pleasure boat's advantage—rose the sound of noisy traffic.
At the base of the city walls, where water met stone—a place for ships to come and go, and pleasure boats to dock—the clamor of busy streets echoed.
Slave marts showed their wares—the young, the beautiful, the strong in war a prize, and greed and lust stood by agape and gold beladened.
Slave markets displayed their goods - young, beautiful, and strong captives were prized. Greed and lust looked on with open mouths, weighed down by gold.
And there the withered miser's trembling hand held close the casket where the gems were hid which he had destined for his monarch's eye, if so the monarch's Minister of State, but spake the word to weigh the grains of gold and barter for the jewels, water clear or green as spray in Springtime.
There, the frail old miser's shaky hand clutched the box containing hidden gems. He had intended to show these jewels to the king, if only the Minister of State would agree to weigh the gold and trade for the crystals, as clear as water or as green as spring leaves.
Great pearls had he hid in the casket lined with fleece, the finest from the shrub and tinted fair with henna. Pearls whose weight alone bore well the scales which held the hollow globe of jet, or snow or primrose dawn, whose worth meant ships, or palaces or the slave who would outweigh their weight a thousandfold.
He had hidden great pearls in the casket. It was lined with fleece, the finest from the shrub, tinted a lovely shade with henna. These were pearls whose weight alone held its own on the scales that bore the hollow globe of jet, of snow, or of primrose dawn. Their worth meant ships, or palaces, or the slave who would outweigh them a thousand times over.
Wares of gold and silver, stuffs from Tyre and Gom were spread on what the merchant knew would best display the gleam of golden thread and floss made by that insect horror in its shape doth show to timid ones.
Luxury goods of gold and silver, along with fabrics from Tyre and Gom, were displayed on surfaces the merchant knew would best showcase the shimmer of golden thread and silk. These materials were produced by silkworms, whose appearance can be unsettling to the faint-hearted.
Fair fruits lay basking in the fiery light the golden globe more golden for its ray; pomegranates took to them still a deeper blood, and blossoms turned from snow to rose, and showed red masses where the lilies blossomed pale.
Vibrant fruits soaked up the intense sunlight, the yellow orb even brighter in its glow. Pomegranates deepened their crimson hue, while flowers transformed from white to pink, creating red clusters where pale lilies once bloomed.
Corn merchants spread their wares in porcelain tubs, or baskets woven of the golden reed or linen basquets.
Grain sellers displayed their products in ceramic containers or baskets made from golden reeds or linen.
Heaps of well-riped grain, crushed pulse or lentils, other grains had they, but those I know not as they stand enstamped in this, thy tongue, which is not all, mine own.
They had piles of ripe grain, crushed beans or lentils, and other grains I can't identify, as they're described in your language, which isn't entirely familiar to me.
The unclad vendors of the ocean's gifts went crying through the arches of the place where flesh was bartered for the well-loved grains that lie with check of earth.
The naked fishmongers shouted their wares through the marketplace, where seafood was traded for prized grains fresh from the fields.
Their trays of brass, or yet of costlier stuff, heaped high with shells of broad and comely shape, or wriggling fins and scales agleam with hues that borrowed yet another color from the sun still rising—rising soon to look upon a scene of wild confusion, storm and death!
Their trays of brass or more expensive materials overflowed with large, attractive shells and fish with wriggling fins and shimmering scales. The sun's rays added an extra layer of color to the scene as it continued to rise, soon to witness a chaotic spectacle of turmoil and devastation.
Strong men walked upright bearing "bricks" or stone to build, or yet rebuild, the costly piles that marked the beauty of the cities strewn like gems throughout the land whose day was set, though not complete its doom
Strong men walked upright, carrying "bricks" or stone to build, or rebuild, the costly buildings that marked the beauty of the cities. These cities were strewn like gems throughout the land. The land's day had already set, though its doom was not yet complete.
The children—heart-beats of a nation—danced to task, or lesson or their play beneath the spreading palms or rose tree's fragrant shade, or vines hung purple with the globes of life-blood for the weak. The mothers to their tasks of rearing broods, or carefully preparing stuff to cover forms of symmetry. The priest lay in his temple, dead with wine, or knelt, as is the way of priest, before a gem-lit shrine to catch the eye of the kneeling, shrinking throng who caught a hint of doom.
The children, the heartbeats of a nation, danced off to their tasks, their lessons, or their play. They went beneath the spreading palms, or the fragrant shade of the rose trees, or vines hanging purple with globes of life-blood for the weak. The mothers went to their tasks of raising their broods, or carefully preparing cloth to cover well-shaped bodies. The priest lay in his temple, dead drunk with wine. Or he knelt, as is the way of priests, before a gem-lit shrine, to catch the eye of the kneeling, shrinking crowd who had caught a hint of doom.
Within the palaces the slaves bowed low as those advanced who held the power to quell, and costly "silk" and fleecy "lace" swept soft over paves of marble, and the fountains played soft measures; from the drops of water came a tinkling song as every drop did hold a certain tone, and all commingling made a rhythm sweet to ear.
Within the palaces the slaves bowed low as those who held the power to crush came forward. Costly "silk" and fleecy "lace" swept softly over marble floors, and the fountains played soft measures. A tinkling song came from the drops of water, for every drop held a certain tone. All of them, mingling, made a rhythm sweet to the ear.
For one had builded by the power of mind, an instrument which kings alone might buy, so costly was it; wove of gems and cords of that rare metal which I cannot name, for ye would never know its import or significance.
One had crafted, through sheer mental prowess, a device so valuable that only royalty could afford it. This instrument was made of precious stones and threads of an extraordinary metal, so rare I cannot name it, for you would not grasp its importance or meaning.
Yet, all entwined, made instrument which rivalled in its tone the song of birds, of thrushes in the woods, of lark at morn or bulbul when her mate doth hover nigh.
Yet, intertwined, they created an instrument with a tone that rivaled the songs of birds - thrushes in the forest, larks at dawn, or nightingales when their mates are near.
Thus all seemed peace and joy, with beauties’ glow to give it emphasis, and made the morn to seem the opening to events of life. In the vast chambers where the men of mind had gathered, big with knowledge gleaned and rich in scrolls upborn by pampered slaves, the dignity of State was duly emphasized by the appearance of the ruling lord.
So all seemed peace and joy, with the glow of beauty to heighten it, and it made the morning seem the opening of the day's events of life. The men of mind had gathered in the vast chambers, full of the knowledge they had gleaned and rich in scrolls carried by pampered slaves. There the dignity of the State was duly emphasized by the appearance of the ruling lord.
And as the music died that every morn bespake that duty followed melody of sound, a herald, old and trusted, trembling came: "My lords," he whispered, but the stillness reigned supreme and every ear had caught.
As the music faded—the daily signal for the start of duties—an elderly, trusted herald approached, shaking. "My lords," he whispered, but in the profound silence, everyone had already heard him.
“My master of the Tower—one hundred years—a sign hath read in that vast wheel of blood, and bids ye seek the shrine of such a god as each doth trust, but thus he bade me speak:
"The Tower's keeper, a century old, has deciphered a message in the great blood-red wheel. He urges you to seek out the shrine of whichever god you believe in, but he instructed me to relay these exact words:"
“There is but One, and He today is wroth and crushes with His breath.
There is only One, and today He is angry and destroys with His mere breath.
“It comes upon the water. Look ye well! A trembling of the waves, that dance and gleam, show but the quiver of the serpent form before it striketh. Look ye well, O lords!
It's approaching across the water. Watch carefully! The shimmering waves reveal the serpent's body trembling just before it strikes. Keep your eyes sharp, my lords!
“The stars last night shone with a baleful light, like eyes of lions caged and thirsting strong for blood; and in the mountains, pointing spear-wise, high, a muttered voice was speaking to the soul of him, so formed of fiber and of flesh are we that one doth tremble when the elements are wroth in unison with God.
“Last night the stars shone with a baleful light, like the eyes of caged lions with a strong thirst for blood. And in the mountains, pointing high like spears, a muttered voice was speaking to his soul. We are so formed of fiber and of flesh that a man trembles when the elements are angry in unison with God.
“Look well, O lords, and cease to talk of good to land or to estate, for all shall pass as the mist of morn rolls upward, drunk by Sun—the essence of that Life which holdeth all.”
"Pay attention, everyone, and stop talking about benefits to land or property. Everything will fade away like morning mist dissolving in the sunlight—absorbed by the very essence of Life that encompasses all things."
He ceased, and sank the hearts of them who never quailed in battle, or when death in milder form had faced them, but his voice was pregnant with the doom which he foretold, and each stood with heart throbbing dully, as the sea swells after storm when quiet seems to reign, but Death hath faced the world and still it thrills with that dread presence which ye name as finish to all deeds.
He fell silent, and his words deflated even the bravest warriors—those who had never flinched in battle or when faced with death in gentler forms. His voice carried the weight of impending doom, and each listener stood with a heart beating heavily. It was like the sea after a storm, when calm appears to have returned, but the world still trembles from Death's recent visit—that dreaded presence you call the end of all things.
"Our dear ones!" Ah, that taint of self which all the world doth poison! Not his neighbor's grief, but grief of self he dare not face.
"Our dear ones!" Ah, that taint of self that poisons the whole world! It is not his neighbor's grief but his own grief that he dares not face.
"My loved ones! At their peaceful sports they stray or duties for my pleasure and I stand! An atom on the wind is not more weak to aid!"
My dear family! They wander carelessly, enjoying themselves or doing chores for my benefit, while I stand here helpless. I'm as powerless to help them as a speck of dust blowing in the breeze!
But one who doubted ever, cried aloud: "Smite him! He lieth! Old and hoar hath he grown lying! Smite the hind who crieth Death on this fair morn when all speaks life. We die not on this day! I swear it by the soul of Him who liveth—Him who holdeth—Him who Both appoint be what His name!"
But a skeptic shouted: "Strike him down! He's lying! He's grown old and gray from his lies! Attack this coward who speaks of death on this beautiful morning when everything speaks of life. We won't die today! I swear it by the soul of the Living One—the One who holds us—the One who appoints all things, whatever His name may be!"
But as he spake a wail of sorrow rose. A wail so loud it pierced the marble walls and caused them, strong as were the halls of Fate, to quiver at the mad, vibrating sound.
As he spoke, a cry of anguish erupted. The wail was so powerful it penetrated the marble walls, causing even the mighty halls of Fate to tremble at its frenzied, reverberating sound.
And as it ceased in measure all arose, with faces rivaling the marble walls and sought the court which led into the street, and where in wild confusion swept the throngs on through the darkling streets, for the sun, which shone as blood, had hid its face in clouds of deadly vapour, dense and black, and damp and steaming with a substance foul to breathe as floats the breath of "hell."
And as the wail died away by degrees, all rose, their faces as white as the marble walls. They sought the court that led into the street, where the crowds swept in wild confusion through the darkening streets. For the sun, which had shone like blood, had hidden its face in clouds of deadly vapour. The clouds were dense and black, damp and steaming with a substance as foul to breathe as the breath that floats from "hell."
And flashes fierce as fiery serpents spun across the sky which but an hour before was like a dome of turquoise turned with beryl.
Bright flashes, resembling fiery serpents, streaked across the sky. Just an hour earlier, that same sky had been a serene dome of blue, as if crafted from turquoise and beryl.
Close-clinging, clasping, crying each for each, some waited awe-struck, some did seek to pray, and others cursed and moaned and fell upon their fellows with the sword, and "Life for life" cried madly. "Now mine hour hath come, what matter how ye die!"
Huddled together, clinging and weeping for one another, some stood paralyzed with fear, while others desperately tried to pray. Many cursed and groaned, turning on their companions with weapons drawn, shouting, "A life for a life!" in their frenzy. "My time has come," they cried, "so what does it matter how you die?"
Thus mad and sane they mingled. Weak and strong. The pure, the vile, the greybeard and the child; while in the shelter of the house of wealth, or lowly cot, where when the day had dawned, was hope for yet another life to bless, lay mother's wailing in the hour of birth and adding wails of fear to wails of agony.
The sane and insane mixed together. The weak stood alongside the strong. The virtuous and the wicked, the old and the young—all were affected. In grand mansions and humble cottages alike, where dawn once brought hope for new life, mothers now cried out during childbirth. Their labor pains were amplified by fear, creating a chorus of anguish.
Then, like a monster spurning earth and seeking sky, there rose from out the bosom of the deep a something which no man had given name.
Then, like a creature rejecting the ground and reaching for the heavens, something unnamed and unidentified emerged from the depths of the ocean.
Uprearing as the wild steed flies the ground when blast of danger smiteth on his ear, then with the voice of thunder multiplied it burst the bonds of shape and nature's law of law restraint and fell upon the land.
Rising up like a wild horse bolting at the sound of danger, it broke free from its physical form and natural constraints. With a thunderous roar, it descended upon the land.
A wall of water as the mountain tall! Black, shrieking beings! Shapes from depths of sea, and wrecks that long had mouldered in their graves of ocean slime, and rocks from depths where rocks long buried lay; and all swept on unheeded and the cities fair that kissed the borders of a smiling sea went down.
A towering wave, as high as a mountain! Terrifying dark creatures! Shapes from the ocean depths, along with long-decayed shipwrecks, rocks from the seafloor, and other deep-sea debris all surged forward relentlessly. Beautiful coastal cities, once peacefully nestled along the shoreline, were swallowed by the sea.
Yet higher, where the pointed mountain sides smiled green and fruitful, some had lingered still with horror on their faces, for where the land had blossomed like the rose, and fane and palace, mart and builded wall, and forests vast had stood, when the sun went down was but a swirl of foam, of writhing, hungry waves that seeming mounted upwards, upwards fast ascending to the eye.
Yet higher up, where the pointed mountainsides smiled green and fruitful, some still lingered, with horror on their faces. The land had blossomed like the rose, and temple and palace, market and built wall, and vast forests had stood there. But when the sun went down, there was nothing but a swirl of foam. It was a swirl of writhing, hungry waves that seemed to the eye to mount upward, upward, rising fast.
Yet those few pictured "When the water fell," the death-struck valleys, ruined walls and towers and forests, lacking naught save leaves of green. Alas, the dream that had no end! their hope bore no fruition.
Those few imagined "When the water receded," seeing valleys ravaged by death, crumbling walls and towers, and bare forests, missing only their green leaves. Sadly, their endless dream and hopeful vision never came to pass.
The quivering mountain sank—an inch, the measure of a man's broad palm—a fathom! Then a quiver and a roar marked moment when the land that mocked the sun went down!
The trembling mountain collapsed—first by an inch, about the width of a hand, then by six feet! A shudder and thunderous noise marked the instant when the once-proud land plunged into the depths.
Atlantis, thou hast sunk, but shall arise, a slimy thing of Ocean, still to bear much beauty, offering riches to the world which hath not known thy fate.
Atlantis, you have sunk, but you shall rise, a slimy thing of the Ocean. You will still bear much beauty, offering riches to the world, which has not known your fate.