Thus, all the rites and ceremonies of the ancient Fire-worshippers abound in symbols which typify the operations of nature, not only in the heavens, but also in the hidden recesses of the earth. They attribute the maturing of precious gems and metals to the peculiar influence of the sun, moon, and stars; and it is a curious fact that they called the seven metals by the very same names by which they denominated the seven planets, and the same peculiar hieroglyphic characters are used to this day to distinguish both. Among them certain stones represented certain virtues, and not a few were famed for their magical properties. The months of the year were spirits who exerted their influence over certain precious stones, which in their turn had power over the destiny of any person born during the period of their sway. Thus each month has its own presiding genius in the heavens and its appropriate symbol in the heart of the earth, bound up with the life and character of the individual born under their combined influence. The garnet, symbol of the presiding spirit of January, means constancy; the amethyst, of February, sincerity; the bloodstone, of March, courage and presence of mind; the diamond, of April, innocence; the emerald, of May, love; the agate, of June, health and long life; the carnelian, of July, contentment; sardonyx, of August, happiness; chrysolite, of September, antidote against madness, sane mind; opal, of October, hope; topaz, of November, fidelity; turquoise, of December, prosperity.
Rings are still used among the more superstitious of the Parsees as charms and talismans against the evil eye, demons, and most of the ills inherent to the human flesh. Sometimes the virtue exists in the stone, sometimes in the magical letters engraved upon it, which are thought to have the power to preserve the owner from thunder, lightning, witchcraft, the evil eye, from sin, and from taking cold even when exposed to biting frosts and storms.
The ancient history of the Fire-worshippers presents no nobler picture than that of Zoroaster traversing the wilds of Persia to preach a purer doctrine to his fellow-men. Before his death he is said to have reduced the twenty-one books he had written to three immortal maxims: Pure thoughts, Pure words, Pure deeds. "All pure thought is spirit-worship, or religion," said he, going at once to the root of the matter, "and all pure actions are fed by the immortal dew of heaven;" this dew is virtue, and he calls it the vapor which the pure-hearted inhale from the heart of the eternal Sun.
What a nation does thoroughly, she does for all time. So it was with the ancient Persians: centuries after the death of their great teacher they kept their faith in one God firm and inviolate amid the most crushing persecution. On the final conquest of Persia the unrelenting soldiers of the Caliphat forced at the point of the sword one hundred thousand persons daily to abjure their faith. Thousands upon thousands were slaughtered daily; only a few escaped and fled to the mountains of Khorasan, taking with them a lamp lighted from the sacred Fire. From these mountains they were again driven forth by the Mohammedans four hundred years after, and the little band of Zoroastrians fled once more, to the beautiful island of Ormuzd, at the mouth of the Persian Gulf. Here persecution still followed them, and, driven out again, the little colony put to sea, still taking with them their sacred lamp, which had been preserved from extinction through all those troublous years.
They had hardly lost sight of land when a terrific storm overtook them, and their little fleet was soon deprived of all hope of escape. Voluntarily exiled from their native land, they had fled from place to place for protection; the mountains refused to hide them, the earth to shelter them, and now even the sea and all the elements rose up against them—all but their little feeble lamp, which, according to their historians, continued to burn brightly in spite of the dreadful storm. At length the high priest of Zoroaster resolved to hoist their sacred lamp as a signal to the tempest-driven little fleet to join in prayer. Up rose the horn lantern containing the sacred light to the masthead of the dahstur's (or high priest's) vessel. The little fleet of boats and ships tried to draw near to the precious beacon, but the winds blew and the tempest beat upon their vessels. All undismayed, straining their utmost and peering through the gloom, they turned them in the direction of the sacred light. Then up above the din and roar of that angry surging sea the prayer of that faithful little company ascended to the Invisible, the shining Ahura-Mazda, for help in their sore distress.
Next morning the storm had abated, and they landed at Diva, on the coast of Western Hindostan, where they disembarked, and remained nineteen years, whence they migrated in a body to Sajan, twenty-four miles south of Damaun. The Hindoo king, Ranah Jayadeva, granted an asylum to the fugitives.
After centuries of cruel persecution the exiles at length found refuge from the enemies of their faith among the Hindoos, who had separated from them in the dim dawn of history because of a religious feud, but whose antagonism touched only names and other non-essential rites, the worship of light as the Creator's highest symbol remaining unchanged for both. Though they had drifted farther and farther apart, the latter in the multiplying of symbols, while the former gradually dispensed with even those they once regarded as a part of their worship, they still remained united in their worship of fire.
In 721 A. D. they erected their first Fire-temple on Indian soil at Sajan, and the sacred fire was once more kindled on its altars by means of their little lamp, the flame of which they had so religiously preserved. To the Fire-worshipper this first temple on Indian soil seemed a resurrection of hope, of reality, striking deep into their fervent hearts and binding them to one another by a subtler and diviner fire. From this time the Parsees rose to importance in India. They greatly aided the Portuguese and Dutch settlers in the establishment of mills and factories all along the coast of Guzerat. Owing to their enterprising spirit, Surat, Cambay, and Baroda grew into large and influential cities and attracted all the extensive commerce of the East. When the island of Bombay was ceded to the British a colony of Parsees emigrated thither, and, having purchased a part of Malabar Hill from the British, built there a Fire-temple and a tower of silence, or tomb for the reception of their dead, and here was brought the same sacred fire and rekindled once more on the altar of their first temple in Bombay.
No country in the world has witnessed so many revolutions as Persia. Nevertheless, the moral and physical condition of the Fire-worshippers, who are still found centring about Yezd and Ispahan, has remained much the same as when they called the country their own. They certainly are superior in moral character to the Mohammedans of Persia to-day. In the garden adjoining the harem of the present shah none are employed save Zoroastrians, and this is because of their national character for purity. As for the Parsee women, they are remarkable for their chastity, an unchaste woman being unknown among them.