Institutions for the training of the mind of youth were builded in a circle, neither high nor grand; and cubes of glass in bars of bronze gave light when storms or clouds the sky obscured.
Schools were built in a circular layout, with modest and functional designs. Bronze-framed windows with glass panes provided illumination during overcast or stormy weather.
A garden in this circle shaded o’er from summer's heat by branching palms gave place for exercise, and also for the education of those youths who sought to till the soil; for all was done by pupil-digging of the soil—the planting of the seed—the budding task, to set to foreign wood the home-grown shrub or tree.
A shaded garden in this area, protected from the summer heat by tall palm trees, provided space for physical activity and also served as a training ground for young people interested in agriculture. All tasks were performed by students, from digging the soil and planting seeds to the more advanced work of grafting local plants onto foreign rootstock.
Rare fruits, too, were in that circle grown and their progression from a wild and bitter fruit—a food for birds alone, was but a pleasant task for them whose minds were turned to secrets of the growth which nature knows.
Exotic fruits thrived in that garden. Transforming them from wild, bitter berries fit only for birds into delectable treats was a delightful challenge for those who were fascinated by nature's hidden growth processes.
Wise men from lands where war and strife prevailed came from afar to teach the art of war, and "statesmen" gave here their garnered lore of forming governments on plans humane and well endowed with all that makes a country great. Some with ambition, hoping soon to lead, bore well in mind the duties of instructors and others studied water navigation.
Experts from war-torn countries traveled great distances to teach military strategy, while politicians shared their accumulated wisdom on establishing fair and prosperous governments. Some, driven by ambition and hoping to lead, took their roles as instructors seriously, while others focused on learning about maritime navigation.
Plans were laid within the chambers of the "school of mines" to excavate from earth such riches as should make the world stare, dumb with astonishment.
In the halls of the mining college, schemes were hatched to unearth treasures that would leave the world speechless with amazement.
The art of shaping characters was but the work of time. At first the tongue Atlantis spake was barbarous, crude, the accent of the ignorant who ne’er had looked upon a written page. In time that barbarous tongue was softened, rounded out by words from priest or statesman who had sought of other lands the shore; of castaway on ship, or captive.
The development of written language was a gradual process. Initially, the Atlantean language was rough and unsophisticated, spoken by those unfamiliar with the written word. Over time, this primitive tongue evolved, enriched by vocabulary from priests and statesmen who had visited foreign lands, as well as from shipwrecked sailors and captives.
All the castaways were given welcome, that their tongue be taught to youth, with methods of their country. Many lands thus lent their methods to the shaping of the language—written speech—that in the years gave fame to old Atlantis. There the leech's skill was taught by one grown old in service mild to many—the service of the healer.
All newcomers were warmly welcomed, so they could teach their language to the young, along with their cultural practices. Many nations thus contributed their approaches to developing the written and spoken language that, over time, brought renown to ancient Atlantis. There, medical expertise was imparted by a veteran practitioner who had spent years in gentle service to many—the noble work of a healer.
No rule for song was taught in great degree, for in that age men sang as sing the birds, their teacher but old Nature. Burst from throat such melody as heart did prompt.
Song was not taught by rule to any great degree. In that age men sang as the birds sing, with old Nature as their only teacher. Such melody burst from their throats as the heart prompted.
Yet in the temples children of twelve years, none older, younger, once each day did sing in trained rhythm when high noon cast light within the circle marked upon each temple's floor; and in a garland stood they; fingers twined within the fingers of his fellows, slowly circling round the blaze of light. Within the sacred circle stood the youths and voices like the birds from forests depths pierced sunlight golden with their melody.
Yet in the temples, children of twelve years, none older and none younger, sang once each day in trained rhythm. They sang when high noon cast light within the circle marked on each temple's floor. They stood in a garland, each with fingers twined in the fingers of his fellows, slowly circling round the blaze of light. The youths stood within the sacred circle. Their voices, like birds from the forest's depths, pierced the golden sunlight with their melody.
When reached that tender year ye number "twelve" they stood each noon and sang unto the gods. Old Phenox came to bless, the priests did teach each urchin lifting up his voice. That year of song was called the crossing of the threshold of the door of childhood. None might turn, reentering childhood's state again. And all their melody was as the note the captive bird sends forth when loosened from its thrall; for life stretched out before them, life and hope, the hope of youth, alas, too often drowned in bitter tears!
At age twelve, they gathered daily to sing praises to the gods. Old Phenox arrived to give his blessing, while priests instructed each child as they raised their voices. This year of singing marked the transition from childhood to adolescence. There was no going back to their younger days. Their melodies resembled the song of a freed bird, full of joy and anticipation. Life and hope stretched out before them - the hope of youth, which sadly, is too often crushed by harsh realities.
No child upon that isle so poor he might not taste the joy of knowledge; for the state, the kingdom later, claimed each child when born, and only guardians were the parents named. And so was carefully prepared each mind to farther bend the impulse to greater lore, and worked they all as for one common good when "land" or "country" was the subject for the best endeavor.
No child on that isle was so poor that he could not taste the joy of knowledge. For the state, and later the kingdom, claimed each child at birth, and the parents were named only as guardians. So each mind was carefully prepared to bend its impulse further toward greater learning. And all of them worked as for one common good when "land" or "country" was the subject of their best effort.
No language save their own the women early knew; it was decided wiser to withhold the knowledge gleaned by man, for woman was considered but a toy. A useful adjunct to the pride of man. Yet some proved willful and did gain much lore, all secretly. The priestcraft taught, and held in high esteem, the women of the land who knew of star directions—subtle voice of Nature—all which man might learn.
The women initially knew only their native language. It was deemed prudent to keep them ignorant of knowledge acquired by men, as women were seen merely as playthings—convenient accessories to male pride. However, some women proved determined and secretly gained considerable knowledge. The clergy taught and highly respected those women who understood celestial navigation and Nature's subtle messages—all of which men could also learn.
In the beginning laws were made to fit such disobedience—banishment from home, from husband, and another given in her stead; but later, when the priests did interpose a milder sentence was pronounced. It was that all who stole the knowledge fit for man alone—must don the manly garb. Yet ere the island sunk were many mothers teaching offspring arts, the sciences, and were not held accountable by law.
Initially, laws were created to punish disobedience—women were banished from their homes and husbands, replaced by others. Later, when priests intervened, a less severe punishment was introduced. Women who acquired knowledge deemed suitable only for men were required to dress as men. However, before the island sank, many mothers were teaching their children arts and sciences without facing legal consequences.
The arts? Ah, she—Atlantis—was the monarch of the earth in arts. Her carven figures rivalled life indeed! Pale marble spake to sense as flesh were there all animate, and subjects wrought in bronze spake from the temples vast whose paves were laid in symbols, marble flecked with golden groups of birds, or histories wrought in gold and metal fair that science had commingled.
The arts? Atlantis reigned supreme in this realm. Their sculptures were so lifelike they seemed to breathe! Pale marble spoke to the senses as if it were living flesh, while bronze figures adorned massive temples. These temples boasted floors inlaid with symbols and marble flecked with golden bird motifs. Intricate historical scenes were crafted from a blend of gold and other metals, showcasing the Atlanteans' mastery of metallurgy and artistry.
Metal that the waves had cast no foul decay upon nor wrought a change save that the creatures creep about inscriptions to the gods or king whose people loved him well.
Metal untouched by the sea's corruption, changed only by the creatures that now crawl over inscriptions dedicated to gods or beloved kings.
A marriage feast with figures true to life lies lapped by waves and coated with fine sand, yet if the power of man could raise the slab, so mighty, it were fit to place in any hall of earth, a work that Time hath touched not with his gnawing fangs which crumbles all, if so man's work as God's be not akin to that eternal wave which marks the growth of Time.
A lifelike wedding scene lies buried beneath the waves, covered in fine sand. If someone could lift this massive slab, it would be worthy of display in any grand hall on Earth. This masterpiece remains untouched by Time's erosive effects, which typically destroy all things. Perhaps human creations, like God's, can resist the eternal tide that marks Time's passage.
The cups for feast were beaten not from gold, but shaped of that transparent stuff which tossed to pave doth fall in fragments. Clear as bubble blown from foaming sea and tinted with the hues that rainbow showeth. All about the globe were woven with the skill of cunning craftsmen lilies pale, or rose, that all save scent marked perfect as marked God who gave it birth from out the soil.
The feast's cups weren't made of gold, but of delicate glass that would shatter if dropped on the pavement. They were as clear as bubbles rising from sea foam and shimmered with rainbow colors. Skilled artisans had adorned the cups with intricate designs of pale lilies and roses, so lifelike they seemed perfect in every way except for their lack of scent—a testament to the craftsmen's skill, rivaling even God's creation of real flowers from the earth.
Still other cups were wove from crystal as a basket grows from taper fingers, each clear strand apart, yet so welded to its fellow that the wine passed not between; in color cups like these were blue or gold or mocking wine with redness. Vases, too, were builded of the braided crystal for the chamber's use, to lave, or hold therein the flowers bright which slaves had gathered.
Other cups were crafted from crystal, their strands woven like a basket formed by delicate fingers. Each clear strand stood apart, yet fused so seamlessly that wine couldn't seep through. These cups came in shades of blue, gold, or wine-red. Crystal vases were also fashioned in this braided style for use in chambers, serving as wash basins or holders for vibrant flowers collected by servants.
Gold was beaten fair in dish for flesh and trays to bear the food from fire to banquet hall. The knife, ye call, was shaped as tool thou useth to sever loaf or meat. Not gold but other metal played the part of furnishing the men of old Atlantis * their most useful implement; but that thou graspeth of fine gold was wrought, of "silver," brought from far and greater value held than gold which lay among the sands upon the shore in pebbles large or small.
Gold was beautifully beaten into dishes for meat, and into trays to carry food from the fire to the banquet hall. The knife, as you call it, was shaped like the tool you use to cut a loaf or meat. It was not gold but another metal that furnished the men of old Atlantis * with their most useful implement. But the one you hold was made of fine gold, of "silver," brought from far away. It was held of greater value than the gold that lay among the sands on the shore, in pebbles large or small.
The child at play, perchance, who ne’er had known the city's greed, might pelt his fellows with the grains. "Barbarian" children were they called who dwelt where forest hid their hut, and beasts and fish did furnish all their food, save the date and fig that cast ripe fruit unto their feet.
A child at play, perhaps one who had never experienced the city's avarice, might playfully throw grains at their friends. Those who lived where forests concealed their homes, relying on wild animals and fish for sustenance—save for the dates and figs that fell ripe at their feet—were dubbed "barbarian" children.
Couches were built from ivory tusks of creatures wandering where the growth of trees might hide from man. The covering for such couches woven were from strands of thread first spun by worms then fingers soft and deft did fashion.
Sofas were crafted from the ivory tusks of animals roaming in dense forests, hidden from human sight. These sofas were then upholstered with fabric made from silk threads, carefully woven by skilled hands.
Linen, too, they knew; but this was brought in galleys from that land whose people passed and in their place had sprung a savage horde who knew the dregs of birth as in that day when first man sprang from force of nature; cradled in the cloud and rocked by winds, and warmed by Sun and fed on God's own atmosphere.
They were familiar with linen, but it was imported by ship from a distant land. The people of that land had vanished, replaced by a primitive group. These newcomers were as primal as humanity's earliest ancestors, who emerged from the raw forces of nature. They were born of the clouds, swayed by the winds, warmed by the sun, and nourished by the very air around them.
Yea, sandals covered feet that nature made so graceful ’twere a sin to hide in shapen casket that fair print of God on man form. The veils the women wore were made in looms which even the queen did own, and on which her maidens wove, in patterns fair, the fleecy stuff to cover yet not hide.
Sandals adorned feet so naturally beautiful that it seemed wrong to confine them in rigid shoes, concealing God's perfect design. The women's veils were crafted on looms owned by the queen herself, where her attendants wove delicate patterns into the soft fabric, creating coverings that both concealed and revealed.
The graceful grass was bidden to its folds, the vine with purple clusters, the drooping palm and plant ye name as wheat, which giveth food. Most beauteous garments wove Atlantis’ slaves, although the wife of noble, all engrossed in making beautiful her form, did weave a garment that no slave might take into her hands.
The graceful grass was worked into its folds as a pattern. So were the vine with purple clusters, the drooping palm, and the plant you call wheat, which gives food. Atlantis' slaves wove the most beautiful garments. Yet the wife of a noble, wholly absorbed in making her form beautiful, wove a garment that no slave might take into her hands.
This garment glistened as the lily's leaf—a robe of silken splendor wove on loom that nothing of a meaner fiber might employ. The robe was worn by eldest of her flock who sought a bride, if sons had blessed her house, and were she blessed with sons, in marriage bonds the eldest craved and wore the glistening robe. And thus ’twas handed down from sire to son—a marriage robe of worth which marked long years of toil.
This garment glistened like the lily's leaf. It was a robe of silken splendor, woven on a loom that could use nothing of a meaner fiber. If sons had blessed her house, the robe was worn by the eldest of her children when he sought a bride. If she was blessed with sons, the eldest wanted it for his marriage and wore the glistening robe. And so it was handed down from father to son, a valuable marriage robe that marked long years of toil.
But one departing to another land unwed bore not with him the sacred robe of life. Aye, jewels strung on golden cord they wore; great blazing stones which Africa's mines did give and emeralds green as leaf. Aye, emeralds. Thus they called them, spake that self-same word; and from Atlantis brought my sires the great green globes of light which thou shalt see—a record of my line—hid in a mummy's breast awaiting but thy hand.
But one who left for another land unwed did not take the sacred robe of life with him. Yes, they wore jewels strung on golden cord: great blazing stones that Africa's mines gave, and emeralds as green as a leaf. Yes, emeralds. That is what they called them. They spoke that very word. And from Atlantis my forefathers brought the great green globes of light that you shall see, a record of my line, hidden in a mummy's breast and waiting only for your hand.
Volcanoes in a state of lesser rage and heat cast up from mud great shells that bore such pearls the eye did give a thrust of light in viewing what the smith held on his tray—the moon—pale ring of pearl of palest rose, or jet which mocked the eye of the beholder.
Volcanoes in a milder state of activity spew forth massive shells from the mud. These shells contain pearls so magnificent that they catch the eye with a flash of brilliance when displayed on a jeweler's tray. Some are moon-like rings of the palest rose, while others are jet black, captivating all who gaze upon them.
All were won from him—the smith—with grains of that pure metal—"gold" to commerce known. No coinage they attempted; scales had they for weight and grains of gold were laid thereon.
The blacksmith traded everything for pure gold nuggets, valued highly in commerce. They didn't mint coins; instead, they used scales to weigh the gold grains for transactions.
Ye ask the food which they consumed—the people of that land? Thy table speaks the answer, in degree; such as thine concoctions harmful, learned of priestly cook who brought to simple-minded peasant ways of food that brought no good to him. Fish, flesh of "sheep," ye speak, and wheat—the mixture of the maize and "rice" with fiery fruits that grew there as the years brought foreign tree and shrub unto that isle.
You ask what food they ate, the people of that land? Your own table gives the answer, to a degree. Like yours, theirs held harmful concoctions, learned from priestly cooks who brought the simple-minded peasants ways of eating that did them no good. There was fish, the flesh of "sheep," as you say, and wheat. There was also the mixture of maize and "rice" with fiery fruits, which grew there as the years brought foreign trees and shrubs to that isle.
Wild honey brought in galleys from afar, pomegranates, melons, figs and nectarines, the orange, citron and the grape gave all the nourishment they needed.
Exotic honey shipped from distant lands, along with pomegranates, melons, figs, nectarines, oranges, citrons, and grapes provided all the sustenance they required.
They took no blood save that the meat contained; their drink was milk of asses and of goats, not kine which never reached that isle. Later came the method to extract the juice from plant and fruit, and later yet from wheat a draught distilled the priests, sole mark of their own will to so concoct that it became a sacred drink to quaff.
They consumed only the blood found in meat. Their beverages were limited to donkey and goat milk, as cows were absent from the island. Over time, they developed techniques to extract juice from plants and fruits. Eventually, the priests devised a method to distill wheat into a drink, showcasing their unique ability to create what became a revered, ceremonial beverage.
A "feast" was made for men alone. No maid nor wife did sit at festal board such as thou namest, but slaves, light-footed, sped among the guests and danced to beat of hands on polished disc which gave out tone not harsh but ringing, telling of the mood of them who watched the lithesome forms of grace clad all superbly and with modesty.
A banquet was held exclusively for men. No women, whether unmarried or wives, sat at such a festive table as you describe. Instead, nimble-footed slaves moved swiftly among the guests, dancing to the rhythm of hands clapping on polished discs. These discs produced a pleasant, resonant sound that reflected the mood of those watching the graceful dancers, who were elegantly and modestly dressed.
A household feasted at the well-spread board alone. No guest was bidden when the children grouped about their parents, taking food from their well-loved hands.
The family dined together at their well-stocked table. No outsiders were invited when the children gathered around their parents, accepting food from their loving hands.
Yea, seated not reclining were the elders. Children stood, perchance about the mother's side or grandams. Not the father's, yet a father's hand did reach to each the fruit it best did love, or when sipping gently his well-sweetened wine, bade each red lip quaff but one draught from out his bowl or vase. A loving service from a father's heart set for his hand.
The elders sat upright, not lounging. Children stood nearby, usually next to their mothers or grandmothers. Though not typically by their fathers, a father's hand would still reach out to offer each child their favorite fruit. When sipping his sweetened wine, he might invite each child to take a small taste from his cup. This gesture of sharing was a loving act, coming straight from a father's heart.
Yet fasting was the rule for child of the Atlantian. Lithe of form and delicate of face were they. No foul distortion from the over-feeding which did mark the alien inhabitants who pressed upon their children grossest food.
Atlantian children were raised with a practice of fasting. They were slender and had delicate features. Unlike the foreign inhabitants who fed their children heavy, unhealthy meals, Atlantians avoided the physical distortions caused by overeating.
And thus Atlantian bodies, spare, gave vital force unto Atlantian brains, for fed by motive power of thoughts from higher things, not grosser, which must eat the vapour giving life to thoughts that spring from bodies mental poise, suffusing brain, and so our thoughts are born. But all absorbed the body's finer force, through gross assimilation, brain is starved nor taketh to itself the finer trend of higher thought cast down from Force above.
The lean physiques of Atlantians fueled their powerful minds. Their thoughts were nourished by higher, spiritual energies rather than base physical needs. These energies, like a vapor, infused their brains and gave birth to their ideas. However, when the body's energy is consumed by mundane physical processes, the brain is deprived. It fails to absorb the subtle currents of elevated thought that descend from a higher power.