The Puritans | Page 5

and hers.
"This is the word of enlightenment which the damsel, the
personification of wisdom, whispered into the ear of the seeker,"
continued the persuasive voice of the Persian. "It is the heart-truth of all
religion. It is the word which initiates man into the divine mysteries.
'Thou wilt accomplish thy journey if thou listen to my discourse.' Life
is affected by many accidents; but none of them reaches the godhead
within. The divine inebriation of spiritual truth comes with the
realization of this fact. The flame within man, which is above his
consciousness, is not to be touched by the acts of the body. These
things which men call sin are not of the slightest feather-weight to the
soul in the innermost tabernacle. It is of no real consequence," the
speaker went on, warming with his theme until his velvety eyes shone,
"what the outer man may do. We waste our efforts in this childish care
about apparent righteousness. The real purity is above our acts. Let the
man do what he pleases; the soul is not thereby touched or altered."
Ashe sat upright in his chair, hardly conscious where he was. It seemed
to him monstrous to remain acquiescent and to hear without protest this
juggling with the souls of men. The instinct to save his fellows which
underlies all genuine impulse toward the priesthood was too strong in
him not to respond to the challenge which every word of the Persian
offered. Almost without knowing it, he found himself interrupting the
speaker.
"If that is the teaching of the Persian scriptures," he said, "it is impious
and wicked. Even were it true that there were a flame from the
Supreme dwelling within us, unmanifested and undeniable, it is
evidently not with this that we have to do in our earthly life. It is with
the soul of which we are conscious, the being which we do know. This
may be lost by defilement. To this the sin of the body is death. I, I

myself, I, the being that is aware of itself, am no less the one that is
morally responsible for what is done in the world by me."
Led away by his strong feeling, Philip began vehemently; but the
consciousness of the attention of all the company, and of the searching
look of Mirza, made the ardent young man falter. He was a stranger,
unaccustomed to the ways of these folk who had come together to play
with the highest truths as they might play with tennis-balls. He felt a
sudden chill, as if upon his hot enthusiasm had blown an icy blast.
Yet when he cast a glance around as if in appeal, he saw nothing of
disapproval or of scorn. He had evidently offended nobody by his
outburst. He ventured to look at the unknown in black, and she
rewarded him with a glance so full of sympathy that for an instant he
lost the thread of what the Persian, in tones as soft and unruffled as ever,
was saying in reply to his words. He gathered himself up to hear and to
answer, and there followed a discussion in which a number of those
present joined; a discussion full of cleverness and the adroit handling of
words, yet which left Philip in the confusion of being made to realize
that what to him were vital truths were to those about him merely so
many hypotheses upon which to found argument. There were more
women than men present, and Ashe was amazed at their cleverness and
their shallow reasoning; at the ease and naturalness with which they
played this game of intellectual gymnastics, and at the apparent failure
to pierce to anything like depth. It was evident that while everything
was uttered with an air of the most profound seriousness, it would not
do to be really in earnest. He began to understand what Helen had
meant when she warned him not to pronounce sacred words in this
strange assembly.
When the meeting broke up, the ladies rose to exchange greetings, to
chat together of engagements in society and such trifles of life. Ashe,
still full of the excitement of what he had done, followed his cousin out
of the drawing-room in silence. As they were descending the wide
staircase, some one behind said:--
"Are you going away without speaking to me, Helen?"

Ashe and Mrs. Herman both turned, and found themselves face to face
with the lady in black, who stood on the broad landing.
"My dear Edith," Mrs. Herman answered, "I am so little used to this
sort of thing that I didn't know whether it was proper to stop to speak
with one's friends. I thought that we might be expected to go out as if
we'd been in church. I