Poseidon’s Paradise: The Romance of Atlantis

It was thousands of years before the Christian era—how many thousands no chronicler has stated. And the island lay, as through the ages past, fair and imperial in the Atlantic. Though now was it becoming wanton, even to its undoing. Else would not this be written.

Midsummer was upon this Atlantis, upon the islands attendant that served as stepping-stones to the continents beyond. Under the soft sensuousness, the morn was taking richer glow, the streams brightening to gold, the gardens and vineyards glorifying in green; whilst hill and mountain grew alluring in shadow and color, the palaces lustrous in their tri-tinted stones, and the temples’ syenite a gleaming red that rivaled the flashing orichalcum studding domes and pinnacles. The great island was a gorgeous mosaic: and its setting, sapphire, that royal stone emblematic of calm and truth; for the laving waters were as serene as blue, in such being all suggestive of that repose which comes of perception of the true. The whole was a glory.

About Cleit, that royal city gracing the stream Luith, in the southeastern part of the island, there was an unusual stir. This day was to be observed one of the most ancient, and therefore simplest, of the customs of Atlantis. The king and royal rulers were to give audience to the principal captains of the nation, and receive the certificates of their prowess for the year. And now, from Cleit’s harbor, which was a few miles southward of the city, at the mouth of Luith, were speeding the galleys of Cleit’s captains; whilst from points north, east, south, and west, the many other captains were hastening, that all might meet in the grounds of the royal palace before noon of this auspicious day.

Upon the great marble landing place, these captains came together, about them thronging the people in gayest holiday attire. Most evident was it that the latter still took pleasure in this old-fashioned observance, that they wished not to fall behind in its celebration, notwithstanding the times were changing so wofully. Many had been the prognostications of the few conservatives remaining that erelong this simple, this most ancient custom, would come to naught. Indeed, most of these had averred privately that the meeting of the year before would prove the last.

Yet here were again convening these mighty captains—size being a consideration of their office. Here, again, were they towering above the average Atlantean, tall as he was. Fine was it to note their flashing eyes, their grand bearing, as they imparted such information as they were free to give to the curious, fast-questioning ones; but finer to witness the expanding eyes of the latter as their ears took in the wonder, the verity of it all!

But the great silver gong was sounding. It was noon. Then men, women, and children burst into acclamations. Already were the captains forming into line, with the captain general at the head. Again sounded the gong. Therewith, the line filed along the marble pathway to the palace, followed by the cheering throng.