Mardi: and A Voyage Thither - novelonlinefull.com
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"Turn from the blasphemer," cried Pani. "Hence! thou evil one, to the perdition in store."
"I will go my ways," said the boy, "but Oro will shape the end."
And he quitted the Morai.
After conducting the party round the sacred inclosure, a.s.sisting his way with his staff, for his child had left him, Pani seated himself on a low, mossy stone, grimly surrounded by idols; and directed the pilgrims to return to his habitation; where, ere long he would rejoin them.
The pilgrims departed, he remained in profound meditation; while, backward and forward, an invisible ploughshare turned up the long furrows on his brow.
Long he was silent; then muttered to himself, "That boy, that wild, wise boy, has stabbed me to the heart. His thoughts are my suspicions.
But he is honest. Yet I harm none. Mult.i.tudes must have unspoken meditations as well as I. Do we then mutually deceive? Off masks, mankind, that I may know what warranty of fellowship with others, my own thoughts possess. Why, upon this one theme, oh Oro! must all dissemble? Our thoughts are not our own. Whate'er it be, an honest thought must have some germ of truth. But we must set, as flows the general stream; I blindly follow, where I seem to lead; the crowd of pilgrims is so great, they see not there is none to guide.--It hinges upon this: Have we angelic spirits? But in vain, in vain, oh Oro! I essay to live out of this poor, blind body, fit dwelling for my sightless soul. Death, death:--blind, am I dead? for blindness seems a consciousness of death. Will my grave be more dark, than all is now?-- From dark to dark!--What is this subtle something that is in me, and eludes me? Will it have no end? When, then, did it begin? All, all is chaos! What is this shining light in heaven, this sun they tell me of?
Or, do they lie? Methinks, it might blaze convictions; but I brood and grope in blackness; I am dumb with doubt; yet, 'tis not doubt, but worse: I doubt my doubt. Oh, ye all-wise spirits in the air, how can ye witness all this woe, and give no sign? Would, would that mine were a settled doubt, like that wild boy's, who without faith, seems full of it. The undoubting doubter believes the most. Oh! that I were he.
Methinks that daring boy hath Alma in him, struggling to be free. But those pilgrims: that trusting girl.--What, if they saw me as I am?
Peace, peace, my soul; on, mask, again."
And he staggered from the Morai.
CHAPTER VI They Discourse Of The G.o.ds Of Mardi, And Braid-Beard Tells Of One Foni
Walking from the sacred inclosure, Mohi discoursed of the plurality of G.o.ds in the land, a subject suggested by the mult.i.tudinous idols we had just been beholding.
Said Mohi, "These G.o.ds of wood and of stone are nothing in number to the G.o.ds in the air. You breathe not a breath without inhaling, you touch not a leaf without ruffling a spirit. There are G.o.ds of heaven, and G.o.ds of earth; G.o.ds of sea and of land; G.o.ds of peace and of war; G.o.ds of rook and of fell; G.o.ds of ghosts and of thieves; of singers and dancers; of lean men and of house-thatchers. G.o.ds glance in the eyes of birds, and sparkle in the crests of the waves; G.o.ds merrily swing in the boughs of the trees, and merrily sing in the brook. G.o.ds are here, and there, and every where; you are never alone for them."
"If this be so, Braid-Beard," said Babbalanja, "our inmost thoughts are overheard; but not by eaves-droppers. However, my lord, these G.o.ds to whom he alludes, merely belong to the semi-intelligibles, the divided unities in unity, thin side of the First Adyta."
"Indeed?" said Media.
"Semi-intelligible, say you, philosopher?" cried Mohi. "Then, prithee, make it appear so; for what you say, seems gibberish to me."
"Babbalanja," said Media, "no more of your abstrusities; what know you mortals of us G.o.ds and demi-G.o.ds? But tell me, Mohi, how many of your deities of rock and fen think you there are? Have you no statistical table?"
"My lord, at the lowest computation, there must be at least three billion trillion of quintillions."
"A mere unit!" said Babbalanja. "Old man, would you express an infinite number? Then take the sum of the follies of Mardi for your multiplicand; and for your multiplier, the totality of sublunarians, that never have been heard of since they became no more; and the product shall exceed your quintillions, even though all their units were nonillions."
"Have done, Babbalanja!" cried Media; "you are showing the sinister vein in your marble. Have done. Take a warm bath, and make tepid your cold blood. But come, Mohi, tell us of the ways of this Maramma; something of the Morai and its idols, if you please."
And straightway Braid-Beard proceeded with a narration, in substance as follows:--
It seems, there was a particular family upon the island, whose members, for many generations, had been set apart as sacrifices for the deity called Doleema. They were marked by a sad and melancholy aspect, and a certain involuntary shrinking, when pa.s.sing the Morai.
And, though, when it came to the last, some of these unfortunates went joyfully to their doom, declaring that they gloried to die in the service of holy Doleema; still, were there others, who audaciously endeavored to shun their fate; upon the approach of a festival, fleeing to the innermost wilderness of the island. But little availed their flight. For swift on their track sped the hereditary butler of the insulted G.o.d, one Xiki, whose duty it was to provide the sacrifices. And when crouching in some covert, the fugitive spied Xiki's approach, so fearful did he become of the vengeance of the deity he sought to evade, that renouncing all hope of escape, he would burst from his lair, exclaiming, "Come on, and kill!" baring his breast for the javelin that slew him.
The chronicles of Maramma were full of horrors.
In the wild heart of the island, was said still to lurk the remnant of a band of warriors, who, in the days of the sire of the present pontiff, had risen in arms to dethrone him, headed by Foni, an upstart prophet, a personage distinguished for the uncommon beauty of his person. With terrible carnage, these warriors had been defeated; and the survivors, fleeing into the interior, for thirty days were pursued by the victors. But though many were overtaken and speared, a number survived; who, at last, wandering forlorn and in despair, like demoniacs, ran wild in the woods. And the islanders, who at times penetrated into the wilderness, for the purpose of procuring rare herbs, often scared from their path some specter, glaring through the foliage. Thrice had these demoniacs been discovered prowling about the inhabited portions of the isle; and at day-break, an attendant of the holy Morai once came upon a frightful figure, doubled with age, helping itself to the offerings in the image of Doleema. The demoniac was slain; and from his ineffaceable tatooing, it was proved that this was no other than Foni, the false prophet; the splendid form he had carried into the rebel fight, now squalid with age and misery.
CHAPTER VII They Visit The Lake Of Yammo
From the Morai, we bent our steps toward an unoccupied arbor; and here, refreshing ourselves with the viands presented by Borabolla, we pa.s.sed the night. And next morning proceeded to voyage round to the opposite quarter of the island; where, in the sacred lake of Yammo, stood the famous temple of Oro, also the great gallery of the inferior deities.
The lake was but a portion of the smooth lagoon, made separate by an arm of wooded reef, extending from the high western sh.o.r.e of the island, and curving round toward a promontory, leaving a narrow channel to the sea, almost invisible, however, from the land-locked interior.
In this lake were many islets, all green with groves. Its main-sh.o.r.e was a steep acclivity, with jutting points, each crowned with mossy old altars of stone, or ruinous temples, darkly reflected in the green, gla.s.sy water; while, from its long line of stately trees, the low reef-side of the lake looked one verdant bluff.
Gliding in upon Yammo, its many islets greeted us like a little Mardi; but ever and anon we started at long lines of phantoms in the water, reflections of the long line of images on the sh.o.r.e.
Toward the islet of Dolzono we first directed our way; and there we beheld the great gallery of the G.o.ds; a mighty temple, resting on one hundred tall pillars of palm, each based, below the surface, on the buried body of a man; its nave one vista of idols; names carved on their foreheads: Ogre, Tripoo, Indrimarvoki, Parzillo, Vivivi, Jojijojorora, Jorkraki, and innumerable others.
Crowds of attendants were new-grouping the images.
"My lord, you behold one of their princ.i.p.al occupations," said Mohi.
Said Media: "I have heard much of the famed image of Mujo, the Nursing Mother;--can you point it out, Braid-Beard?"
"My lord, when last here, I saw Mujo at the head of this file; but they must have removed it; I see it not now."
"Do these attendants, then," said Babbalanja, "so continually new- marshal the idols, that visiting the gallery to-day, you are at a loss to-morrow?"
"Even so," said Braid-Beard. "But behold, my lord, this image is Mujo."
We stood before an obelisk-idol, so towering, that gazing at it, we were fain to throw back our heads. According to Mohi, winding stairs led up through its legs; its abdomen a cellar, thick-stored with gourds of old wine; its head, a hollow dome; in rude alto-relievo, its scores of hillock-b.r.e.a.s.t.s were carved over with legions of baby deities, frog-like sprawling; while, within, were secreted whole litters of infant idols, there placed, to imbibe divinity from the knots of the wood.
As we stood, a strange subterranean sound was heard, mingled with a gurgling as of wine being poured. Looking up, we beheld, through arrow-slits and port-holes, three masks, cross-legged seated in the abdomen, and holding stout wa.s.sail. But instantly upon descrying us, they vanished deeper into the interior; and presently was heard a sepulchral chant, and many groans and grievous tribulations.
Pa.s.sing on, we came to an image, with a long anaconda-like posterior development, wound round and round its own neck.
"This must be Oloo, the G.o.d of Suicides," said Babbalanja.
"Yes," said Mohi, "you perceive, my lord, how he lays violent tail upon himself."
At length, the attendants having, in due order, new-deposed the long lines of sphinxes and griffins, and many limbed images, a band of them, in long flowing robes, began their morning chant.
"Awake Rarni! awake Foloona!
Awake unnumbered deities!"
With many similar invocations, to which the images made not the slightest rejoinder. Not discouraged, however, the attendants now separately proceeded to offer up pet.i.tions on behalf of various tribes, retaining them for that purpose.
One prayed for abundance of rain, that the yams of Valapee might not wilt in the ground; another for dry sunshine, as most favorable for the present state of the Bread-fruit crop in Mondoldo.
Hearing all this, Babbalanja thus spoke:--"Doubtless, my lord Media, besides these pet.i.tions we hear, there are ten thousand contradictory prayers ascending to these idols. But methinks the G.o.ds will not jar the eternal progression of things, by any hints from below; even were it possible to satisfy conflicting desires."
Said Yoomy, "But I would pray, nevertheless, Babbalanja; for prayer draws us near to our own souls, and purifies our thoughts. Nor will I grant that our supplications are altogether in vain."