The Puritans | Page 4

dawn of eternity to the day of
resurrection lost in astonishment."
"Depart thou from the cloister and take thy way to the tavern; cast off
the cloak of a dervish, and wear the robe of a libertine."
I obeyed; and if thou desirest the same strain and color as Ismat, imitate
him, and sell this world and the next for one drop of pure wine!
The company sat in absorbed silence while the reading went on.
Nothing could be more perfect than the listening of a well-bred Boston
audience, whether it is interested or not. The exquisitely modulated
voice of the Persian flowed on like the tones of a magic flute, and the
women sat as if fascinated by its spell.
When the reading was finished, and the Persian began to comment
upon the spiritual doctrine embodied in it, Ashe sat so completely
absorbed in reverie that he gave no heed to what was being said. In his
ascetic life at the Clergy House he had been so far removed from the
sensuous, save for that to which the services of the church appealed,
that this enervating and luxurious atmosphere, this gathering to which
its quasi- religious character seemed to lend an excuse, bred in him a
species of intoxication. He sat like a lotus-eater, hearing not so much
the words of the speaker as his musical voice, and half-drowned in the
pleasure of the perfumed air, the rich colors of the room, the Persian's
dress, the illuminated scroll, in the subtile delight of the presence of
women, and all those seductive charms of the sense from which the
church defended him.
The Persian, Mirza Gholân Rezâh, repeated in his flute-like voice: "'O
thou, to the arch of whose eyebrow the new moon is a slave;'" and,
hearing the words as in a dream, Philip Ashe looked across the little
circle to see a woman whose beauty smote him so strongly that he drew

a quick breath. To his excited mood it seemed as if the phrase were
intended to describe that beautifully curved brow, brown against the
fair skin, and in his heart he said over the words with a thrill: "'O thou,
to the arch of whose eyebrow the new moon is a slave!'" Half
unconsciously, and as if he were taken possession of by a will stronger
than his own, he found himself noting the soft curve and flush of a
woman's cheek, the shell-texture of her ear, and the snowy whiteness of
her throat. She sat in the full light of the window behind him, leaning as
she listened against a pedestal of ebony which upheld the bronze bust
of a satyr peering down at her with wrinkled eyes; her throat was
displayed by the backward bend of her head, and showed the whiter by
contrast with the black gown she wore. Philip's breath came more
quickly, and his head seemed to swim. Sensitive to beauty, and starved
by asceticism, he was in a moment completely overcome.
Suddenly he felt the regard of his friend Maurice resting upon him with
a questioning glance, and it was as if the thought of his heart were laid
bare. Philip made a strong effort, and fixed his look and his attention
upon the speaker, who was deep in oriental mysticism.
"It is written in the Desâtir," Mirza Gholân Rezâh was saying, "that
purity is of two kinds, the real and the formal. 'The real consists in not
binding the heart to evil: the formal in cleansing away what appears
evil to the view.' The ultimate spirit, that inner flame from the
treasure-house of flames, is not affected by the outward, by the
apparent. What though the outer man fall into sin? What though he
throw stones at the glass of piety and quaff the wine of sensuality from
a full goblet? The flame within the tabernacle is still pure and
undefined because it is undefilable."
Ashe looked around the circle in astonishment, wondering if it were
possible that in a Christian civilization these doctrines could be
proclaimed without rebuke. His neighbors sat in attitudes of close
attention; they were evidently listening, but their faces showed no
indignation. On the lips of Wynne Philip fancied he detected a faint
curl of derisive amusement, but nowhere else could he perceive any
display of emotion, unless--He had avoided looking at the lady in black,

feeling that to do so were to play with temptation; but the attraction
was too strong for him, and he glanced at her with a look of which the
swiftness showed how strongly she affected him. It seemed to him that
there was a faint flush of indignation upon her face; and he cast down
his eyes, smitten by the conviction that there was an intimate sympathy
between his feeling