SCENE 7
A temple somewhat Egyptian in appearance. A place of initiation in the far-distant past in this Earth's third stage of post-Atlantean civilisation. A conversation between the hierophant, otherwise Capesius, the keeper of the temple, otherwise Felix Balde or Joseph Keane and a mystic, otherwise Dame Balde or Dame Keane.
HIEROPHANT:
Are all the preparations duly made, My keeper of the temple, to the end Our holy rite may serve both gods and men?
KEEPER:
So far as human forethought can provide All hath been well prepared; a holy breath Hath filled the temple now for many days.
HIEROPHANT:
My mystic, as the royal counsellor, A priest hath been selected unto whom This very day our secret wisdom's store Is with all holiness to be revealed. Hast thou then so prepared him by thy tests That he is now entirely given o'er To wisdom set apart from earthly cares, And shuts his ear to all but spirit-lore? A different counsellor would do us harm.
MYSTIC:
The tests were given as the law ordains, The masters found them adequate; I think Our mystic hath but little natural taste For earthly cares; his soul is set upon His spirit-progress and development Of self; in spirit trance he oft is seen. 'Tis not too much to say he revels in The union of the spirit with his soul.
HIEROPHANT:
Has thou then often seen him in this state?
MYSTIC:
In truth he may thus frequently be seen. His nature doubtless is inclined toward The temple's service rather than the state's.
HIEROPHANT:
It is enough. Now go to thine own place And see our holy rite is well performed;
(Exit Mystic.)
To thee, my keeper, I have more to say. Thou knowest how I prize thy mystic gifts: To me thou bearest wisdom far beyond That which befits thy status in this shrine. Oft to thy seership have I had recourse To prove what mine own spirit-sight hath seen. And so I ask, what confidence hast thou That this new mystic is for spirit ripe?
KEEPER:
Who asks for my opinion? Is my voice Of any worth?
HIEROPHANT:
It aye hath worth for me. Today again thou shalt stand by my side; We must most closely watch this holy rite With inward sight; and, should the 'mystic' prove E'en in the slightest way unripe as yet For its high meaning in the spirit life, I shall refuse him rank as 'counsellor.'
KEEPER:
What is it then that now may be revealed In this new 'mystic' at our holy rite.
HIEROPHANT:
I know he is not worthy of the trust The temple servants seek to give to him. His human nature is well known to me. His mystic-sense is not that heartfelt urge Which stirs in men when light from spirit realms In kindness draws souls upwards to itself. Strong passion surges in his being yet; The craving of his senses is not stilled. Indeed I would not blame the will divine, Which e'en in craving and in passion pours Its wisdom-light o'er evolution's stream. But when the craving doth conceal itself, And revel 'neath devotion's mystic mask, It causeth thought to lie, and makes will false. The light that weaves the web of spirit-worlds Can never penetrate unto such souls, Since passion spreads a mystic fog between.
KEEPER:
My hierophant, thy judgment is severe In dealing with a man who still is young And inexperienced, who can neither know Himself nor take another course than that Which priestly guides and mystic leaders say Doth reach the goal along the soul's true path.
HIEROPHANT:
I do not judge the man, I judge the deed That will be wrought here in this holy place. This holy mystic rite, which we perform, Hath not importance for ourselves alone. Fate's stream of cosmic evolution pours Through word and deed of sacred priestly rites. What happens here in pictures comes to pass In everlasting life in spirit-worlds. But now, good keeper, get thee to thy task; Thou wilt thyself discover how to lend Assistance to me in this holy rite.
(Exit Keeper, right.)
HIEROPHANT. (alone)
This youthful mystic will not be to blame, Who hopes this day to dedicate himself Unto the wisdom, if in these next hours A wrong emotion, such as may gush out Unheeded from his heart, should throw its rays Upon our sacred rite, and in this act Should through our symbols draw nigh spirit-spheres Whence ill results in consequence must flow Into the current of our human life. The guides and leaders are themselves to blame. Have they not learned to know the mystic force Which penetrates in some mysterious way With spirit every word and sigh of ours; And ceases not from action even when The contents of a soul are poured therein Which hinders cosmic evolution's course? Instead of this young mystic consciously Here to the spirit off'ring up himself, His teachers drag him like a sacrifice Into the holy precincts, where his soul Unconsciously he to the spirit yields. For verily he would not take this road If he were conscious master of his soul. Within the circle of our mysteries The highest hierophant alone doth know What mystic truths lurk in our sacred forms. But he is dumb as solitude itself. Such silence his high dignity commands. The others gaze uncomprehendingly When of our ritual's real intent I speak.
So am I left to bear my cares alone; Well-nigh unbearable their burden seems When all the meaning of our ritual And of our temple is borne in on me. One thing especially I deeply feel-- The solitude of this stern spirit-shrine. Why do I feel so lonely in this place? The soul must ask this question. When, ah, when Will to my soul the spirit make reply?
Curtain falls slowly