majestic figure
robed in purple. She was bent forward, her hand supporting her face, her
burning eyes turned on the intruders.

"Come hither, child," she said, taking the boy by the hands and gazing
into his face. "So this pale form is to be the home of the god. The gods
Choose wisely. They take no wild warrior, no mighty hero to be their
messenger, but crown this gentle head. Tell me, have you ever seen a
light from the sun falling on you in your slumber? No, but look now.
Look upward."

As she spoke she waved her hands over him, and the cavern with its dusky
roof seemed to melt away, and beyond the heavens the heaven of heavens
lay dark in pure tranquility, in a quiet which was the very hush of
being. In an instant it vanished, and over the zenith broke a wonderful
light.

"See now," cried Diotima, "the Ancient Beauty! Look how its petals
expand, and what comes forth from its heart!" A vast and glowing breath,
mutable and opalescent, spread itself between heaven and earth, and
out of it slowly descended a radiant form like a god's. It drew nigh,
radiating lights, pure, beautiful, and star-like. It stood for a moment
by the child and placed its hand on his head, and then it was gone. The
old shepherd fell upon his face in awe, while the boy stood breathless
and entranced.

"Go now," said the Sybil, "I can teach thee naught. Nature herself will
adore you, and sing through you her loveliest song. But, ah, the light
you hail in joy you shall impart in tears. So from age to age the
eternal Beauty bows itself down amid sorrows, that the children of
men may not forget it, that their anguish may be transformed, smitten
through by its fire."

THE MASK OF APOLLO

A tradition rises within me of quiet, unarmored years, ages before the
demigods and heroes toiled at the making of Greece, long ages before the
building of the temples and sparkling palaces of her day of glory. The
land was pastoral, and over all the woods hung a stillness as of dawn
and of unawakened beauty deep breathing in rest. Here and there little
villages sent up their smoke and a dreamy people moved about. They grew
up, toiled a little at their fields, followed their sheep and goats,
wedded, and gray age overtook them, but they never ceased to be
children. They worshipped the gods in little wooden temples, with
ancient rites forgotten in later years.

Near one of these shrines lived a priest--an old man--who was held in
reverence by all for