“And is not true Christianity the highest and purest philosophy?” she said. “Only it is preached—not practised. Can you tell me that a single Christian land in this nineteenth century era is one whit purer or better in its spiritual or moral character than was Jerusalem a thousand years ago? Does it influence commerce, trade, governments, laws—even civilisation? If it did, not one rule or law that binds the rotten fabric of civilised life together would stand for a single moment. Why? Because no one would lie; no one would cheat; no one would murder, either wholesale because of country prejudices, or retail because of private animosities. Everyone would be honest, charitable, merciful, and unselfish. You cling to a Faith that is almost barren of good works. You propagate it among ignorant savages whom you first rob of their lands, and then convert with guns and brandy bottles. How much of the reception of Christianity is due to the latter I will leave to the revelations of the first honest missionary whose report is not indebted to his income from the Society, a prospective pension, and his own personal weakness for the laudation of his fellow men. Show me a human being who can be honest to a conviction in the face of scorn and mockery, who never sought his own interest in the profession he embraced, but only the good of others for whom that profession was ostensibly established; who would speak truth in the Courts of Law, the House of Legislature, and the salons of Society; who would write—not for empty praise but from conviction—and follow art simply and purely to ennoble the mind, not pander to the lust of the eye and the greed of gold. Show me such men and such a nation, and I will acknowledge there Christianity has found its seat and fulfilled the purpose of its founder!”
“Oh,” said the American, shrugging her shoulders with contempt, “of course, you are talking arrant nonsense! The thing’s impossible. The world can’t be turned into a monastery, and as long as people live they will always be overreaching each other, and deceiving each other. It’s not possible to be perfectly honest, or perfectly truthful.”
“Then,” said the stranger quietly, as she sank back on her cushions, “do not blame even the poor Yogi under his tree if he has turned away sick and disgusted with the shams and vileness, and hypocrisies and evil, of the so-called civilised world. Remember that the country that holds him and thousands as foolish and superstitious, is the country that your boasted, civilisation has wrested from his race, and that your example as a Christian nation is ever before his eyes. Let his conduct determine it’s influence!”
“Well,” said Mrs Jefferson, “talk of sermons in stones! Here’s one in baths! I should like to know who you are. Seems to me you know everything, and have read everything, and seen most everything on the face of the earth. So few women begin to think of anything serious till they’ve forgotten their looks, that you must excuse my calling you an anomaly. Now do tell me you’ll change your mind and join us to-night in the drawing-room. It’s quite as selfish as Yogaism to keep talents like yours in the background.”
The beautiful face grew cold and proud.
“You must pardon me,” she said, “if I venture to consider myself the best judge of what you are pleased to call—talents. They are not of an order to benefit a hotel drawing-room.”
“Oh!” said Mrs Jefferson, feeling somewhat snubbed. “I’m sure people would be delighted to hear you talk, even if you did rub some of their pet foibles the wrong way. I’ve quite enjoyed this morning, I assure you. You’ve diverted my thoughts from my own ailments, and stimulated my digestion. I feel like eating lunch for once. And that reminds me I must begin to dress. My fringe takes a quarter of an hour to arrange.”
She rose from the couch, her Turkish towelling drapery flowing far behind her small figure. Then she disappeared into her dressing-room.
When she emerged from thence, her fringe artistically curled, her face becomingly tinged with pearl-powder, her dress and appointments all combining to give her small person importance, and show a due regard to the exigencies of fashion, she found the couch which the mysterious stranger had occupied was vacant. She loitered about in the hope of seeing her emerge from one of the dressing-boxes, but she was disappointed, and as the luncheon gong was sounding through the hotel she reluctantly took her way through the carpeted corridors and turned into the main entrance, her mind in a curious condition of perplexity and excitement.