Some variety of Sufism, however, sweetly and strongly permeates the teaching of the Bab. It is a Sufism which consists, not in affiliation to any Sufi order, but in the knowledge and love of the Source of the Eternal Ideals. Through detachment from this perishable world and earnest seeking for the Eternal, a glimpse of the unseen Reality can be attained. The form of this only true knowledge is subject to change; fresh 'mirrors' or 'portraits' are provided at the end of each recurring cosmic cycle or aeon. But the substance is unchanged and unchangeable. As Prof. Browne remarks, 'the prophet of a cycle is naught but a reflexion of the Primal Will,--the same sun with a new horizon.' [Footnote: _NH_, p. 335.]
Such a prophet was the Bab; we call him 'prophet' for want of a better name; 'yea, I say unto you, a prophet and more than a prophet.' His combination of mildness and power is so rare that we have to place him in a line with super-normal men. But he was also a great mystic and an eminent theosophic speculator. We learn that, at great points in his career, after he had been in an ecstasy, such radiance of might and majesty streamed from his countenance that none could bear to look upon the effulgence of his glory and beauty. Nor was it an uncommon occurrence for unbelievers involuntarily to bow down in lowly obeisance on beholding His Holiness; while the inmates of the castle, though for the most part Christians and Sunnis, reverently prostrated themselves whenever they saw the visage of His Holiness. [Footnote: _NH_, pp. 241, 242.] Such transfiguration is well known to the saints. It was regarded as the affixing of the heavenly seal to the reality and completeness of Bab's detachment. And from the Master we learn [Footnote: Mirza Jani (_NH_, p. 242).] that it passed to his disciples in proportion to the degree of their renunciation. But these experiences were surely characteristic, not only of Babism, but of Sufism. Ecstatic joy is the dominant note of Sufism, a joy which was of other-worldly origin, and compatible with the deepest tranquillity, and by which we are made like to the Ever-rejoicing One. The mystic poet Far'idu'd-din writes thus,--
Joy! joy! I triumph now; no more I know Myself as simply me. I burn with love. The centre is within me, and its wonder Lies as a circle everywhere about me. [a]