Chapter X: Da̤o and the Temple Zim

Gentola̤:—De L'Ester informs me that Da̤o is to the planet Ento what to many of the peoples of Earth is the City of Rome. Since ancient times, not only has it been Ento's capital city, but it has also been the centre of ecclesiastical authority. What to Roman Catholic religionists Rome's greatest sacred edifice is, the great Temple Zim ever has been and is now to the peoples of Ento. Until the successful culmination of our mission, the utterances of its most high priests were as the utterances of Andûmana̤, the Supreme One, whose representatives they were.

In the ceremonials of the temple Zim ever a large number of priests and priestesses, the very flower of the consecrated ones, were engaged; their beauty of person, their rich vestments, and those of the most high priest, adding much to spectacles of striking magnificence and impressive solemnity. Especially notable were the ceremonials of the several seasons,—of Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, when from all over Ento came devout worshippers to offer at its altars their most valued possessions; and, until Andûmana̤'s message of supreme love for his rebellious children abolished human sacrifice, many came to embrace for the last time their cherished ones, whose dreadful doom we of these blessed days of freedom, from an observance of the sacrificial rite, shrink from contemplating.

It is recorded that the Most High Priest Moûkara was of an exceedingly benignant nature. So eminent was the tenderness of his heart that it became proverbial, and to this day the expression, "As tender-hearted as Moûkara" is in common use.

It is related of him that once, while walking in the temple garden, he espied a broken winged Zyma̤, which at his approach attempted to flutter away. But being too badly injured to escape, it could only express its pain and terror in affrighted, plaintive notes. Putting aside the hands of an attendant priest, Moûkara gently lifted the wounded creature to his breast, smoothing its plumage and, as best he could, allaying its terror. Then he bore it to one of his household skilled in healing, who eventually restored it to its usual strength of wing; but its attachment for its rescuer had grown with its strength, and it so persistently sought to remain near him, that it became a great favorite of his leisure hours; and at its death its ashes found security in a costly urn, which to this day is known as the Zyma̤ Urn.

The relation of this incident may seem, as really it is, quite apart from the story which we are attempting to translate from our language into yours, which, owing to differences in religious beliefs, modes of thought and expression, we find a most difficult undertaking: so much so that at times our manner of speech may appear obscure. You may believe that we are doing our utmost to render our meanings intelligible. Where we may fail in doing so we crave your gracious indulgence, as well as that of any who may read that which concerns people of another planet but who are children of one common Parent, whom we name Andûmana̤ and whom you name God.

Genessano Allis Imo.

Early dawn found Oûman Mitsa̤ and the Nyassa̤s journeying swiftly towards Da̤o. At midday, with rich offerings in their hands, they attended the temple service, where the Most High Priest Moûkara, clothed in the magnificent robes of his exalted office, which but slightly accentuated the natural majesty of his bearing or the admirable beauty of his benign countenance, offered to Andûmana̤ grains, fruits, and the red and golden blooms emblematic of his glorious dwelling-place.

We who have beheld the greatness and grandeur of Ento's chiefest temple, who have gazed with awed and worshipful eyes upon its sacred ceremonies, who have listened to the wondrous tones of its incomparable voûhoida̤ (resembling an organ) whose volumes of sweetest melody so fill the vast edifice that to its vibrant tones the very foundations make tremulous reply; who, with intoxicated senses and adoring exaltation have heard the exquisitely harmonious sounds of the temple singers chanting praises of the glory and beneficence of The Supreme One, from whose shining abode glowing beams, falling downward through the immense Dia̤fon ēvoiha̤ of the central dome, bathed the wondrously beautiful, snowy altar beneath it with blended hues of red and gold; who have realized that in the sacred person of the most high priest we have beheld the representative of Andûmana̤'s majesty and infinite power, will readily understand the state of mind of Oûman Mitsa̤ and the Nyassa̤s as they gazed upon him in whose hands were the issues of their own and their children's happiness, or destruction.

At the moment of mid-day, the attendant priests and priestesses having drawn away from the central altar, the most high priest, raising his hands and his eyes towards Andûmana̤'s abode, in most reverent tones prayed:

"To thee, who art our Creator, Preserver, and, at thy will, our Destroyer, we, thy humble, helpless children, offer our adoration and our supplication. We adore thee, thou Supreme One, that thou hast created us to enjoy the life thou hast given us; and we supplicate thy mercy that our days may be many ere thou mayst call us into the Silence, to which it hath pleased thee at death to return us. For the wondrous expression of thy love and mercy which thou hast lately shown thy ignorant and rebellious children, we continually adore thee. And, even as thou art merciful to us, may we be merciful to each other and to all created things. As we may do unto others so do thou unto us. According to the measure of thy bounty, these, thy children, now desire to make to thee acknowledgment of their grateful thanks; and I, thy humblest suppliant, entreat thy acceptance of such offerings as they have brought for thy service. Ra̤û, Ra̤û, Ra̤û."

Save for faintest notes of the voûhoida̤, scarcely a sound broke the stillness of the assemblage, many of whom, with murmured thanks or fervent appeals to Andûmana̤ and the Deific Ones approached and laid upon the central altar their offerings of precious things, then quietly returned to their places. Others before retiring ceremoniously entreated the most high priest to grant them a private audience, to which he graciously assented.

The very last to approach were Oûman Mitsa̤ and the Nyassa̤s. Laying their offerings upon the altar, for a while with fervent prayers they entreated Andûmana̤ and the Deific Ones to regard them with favor. Then they drew near the most high priest and, kneeling at his feet, besought him that they might have private speech with his Sacredness.

These suppliants must indeed have presented a piteous spectacle; so piteous that from the lips of the vast assemblage issued a sound as of one prolonged sigh. Into Moûkara's usually impassive face grew an expression of troubled surprise and sympathy, for, in the somber countenance of one he recognized his distinguished kinsman Oûman Mitsa̤, and, as his searching gaze rested upon the haggard, woful faces of the others, he recalled a memory of two newly wedded pairs who years ago had besought his blessing upon their union.

With much kindliness of manner Moûkara desired the suppliants to arise from their kneeling posture, and, after signifying that at midafternoon he would receive them, he gently dismissed the Nyassa̤s.

Turning to Oûman Mitsa̤ he said, "I know not which is greatest, my pleasure or my surprise, at finding my distinguished kinsman suing for my favor,—but not for himself, I feel assured."

With a profound obeisance Oûman Mitsa̤ thanked him for his gracious courtesy, and said. "Your Sacredness, the cause of those unhappy ones, the Nyassa̤s of a suburb of Lēonita Tylû, who through my dear, dead wife are related to me, is mine also; and for its justness I pledge my honor and my life. May I hope that when they shall make known their grievance to you I may be permitted to speak to you on their behalf?"

"Let it be so," replied Moûkara; "and may the wisdom of Andûmana̤ and the just gods direct us in all our ways. At midafternoon with your friends I will receive you."