Chapter II: Part 2
Amongst other experiments wherewith he tried to prove its strength, he flung therein certain fishes which the sea had cast upon the shore; as the steam thereof came to his nose, the smell whetted his appetite so that he ventured to taste of them; and when he found it agreeable to his palate, he began to get used to the eating of fish and flesh. Then he applied himself to fishing and hunting those creatures that are specially fit to feed on, until he became a great expert in those sports.
Thus his regard for the fire greatly increased day by day, because it helped to provide him with various sorts of food with which he was quite unacquainted before.
THE THIRD SEPTENARY.
_Hayy makes himself Clothes and Shoes of the Skins of Animals._
By the time he had attained to the end of his _third septenary_, viz. to the twenty-first year of his age, he had found out many things which were of great use to him for the conveniences of life. He made himself clothes and shoes of the skins of wild beasts after he had dissected them for use. He made himself thread of their hair, as also of the rind of the stalks of althea mallows, and other plants that could be easily parted asunder and drawn into threads. And he learned the making of these threads from the use he had made of the rushes before. He made a sort of bodkin of the strongest thorns he could get and splinters of cane sharp pointed with stones.
The art of building he was taught by the observations he made upon the swallows' nests. He built himself a room to repose and rest therein, and also a store-house and pantry to lay up the remainder of his victuals. He guarded it with a door made of canes twisted together to prevent any of the beasts from getting in when he happened to be away. He also got hold of certain birds of prey which he made use of for hawking, and others of the tamer sort which he bred up, and fed upon their eggs and chickens. He also took to him the horns of wild bulls, which he fastened upon the strongest canes he could get and the staves of the tree Alzan and others of similar kind.
Thus, by the help of fire and of sharp edged stones, he so fitted them that they served him as spears. He made himself also a shield of the skins of beasts folded and compacted together. And thus he tried to provide himself with artificial weapons, being destitute of natural arms.
_Hayy learns to ride._
When he saw that his hand supplied all those defects quite well, and that none of the various kinds of wild beasts ventured to stand up against him, but fled away from him and only excelled him in their swiftness, he bethought himself of contriving some art how to be even with them, and finally decided there would be nothing so convenient as to chase some of the strongest and swiftest beasts of the Island, nourishing them with food until they might let him get on the back of them, so that he might pursue other kinds of wild beasts.
There were in that island wild horses and asses, out of which he chose some that seemed fittest for the purpose, and by dint of exercise he made them so tractable that he became complete master of his wishes. And when he had made out of the skins of those beasts something that served him instead of bridles and saddles, it was an easy matter for him to overtake such beasts, which he scarcely could have taken in any other way.
He made all these discoveries whilst he busied himself in the study of anatomy, studiously searching after the properties of the component parts of animals and their difference, and all this he did, as we mentioned above, by the time he was twenty-one years of age.
_Hayy examines the Nature of Bodies._
After this he proceeded further to examine the nature of bodies that were subject to generation and corruption, as the different kinds of animals, plants, minerals and different sorts of stones, earth, water, exhalations and vapours, ice, snow, hail, smoke, fire, and hoar-frost.
In all these he observed different qualities and a diversity of actions and motions, agreeing in some respects and differing in others. He found that, so far as they agreed, they were _one_; where they disagreed, _a great many_; and when he looked into the properties whereby they were distinguished from one another, he found them so manifold that he could not comprehend them.
As to himself, he knew that his spirit was one in essence, and was really the substance of his being, and that the other parts served only as so many instruments. So he perceived his own essence to be but one.
Then attentively considering the different kinds of animals, he perceived that the one thing common to them all was sensation and nutrition and the faculty of moving of their own accord wheresoever they pleased, all of which actions he was assured were the proper effects of the animal spirit, and that those lesser things in which they differed were not so proper to that spirit.
For he considered that the animal spirit may differ with regard to some qualities, according to the variety of constitutions in several animals. And so he looked upon the whole species of living creatures as one.
Then, on contemplating the different species of plants, he perceived that the individuals of every species were like one another in their boughs, branches, leaves, fruits; and so, taking a view of all the different kinds of plants, he decided within himself that they were all _one_ and the same in respect of that agreement between themselves in their actions, viz. their nourishment and growth.
He then contemplated those bodies which have neither sense, nourishment, nor growth, such as stones, earth, water, air, and fire; which he saw had all of them three dimensions, viz. _length_, _breadth_, and _thickness_; and that their differences only consisted in this, that some of them were coloured, others not; some were hot, others cold, and similar differences.
He noticed also that hot bodies grew cold, and, on the contrary, cold ones grew warm. He saw further that water rarefied into vapours, and vapours again thickened and turned into water. Then he observed that the bodies which were burnt turned into coals, ashes, flame, and smoke; and that the smoke, when in its ascent it was intercepted by an arch of stones, thickened them into soot, and became like other earthly substances. From whence he concluded that all things were in reality _one_, like the animals and plants, though multiplied and diversified in some respects.
_Hayy transfers his thoughts to the Heavenly Bodies._
Now after he had attained thus far, so as to have a general and indistinct notion of an _Agent_, a vehement desire seized him to get a more distinct knowledge of him. But since he had not yet withdrawn himself from the sensible world, he began to look for this voluntary Agent among things sensible; nor did he know, as yet, whether it were one Agent or many. Therefore he took a view of all the bodies that were near him, viz. which his thoughts had been continually fixed upon; which he found all successively liable to generation and corruption, either completely or in parts, as _water_ and _earth_, parts of which are consumed by _fire_.
He perceived likewise that the air was changed into snow by extremity of cold, and then again into water; and among all the other bodies which he had near him, he could find none which had not its existence anew and required some voluntary Agent to give it a being. Therefore he laid all those sublunary bodies aside, and transferred his thoughts to the consideration of the heavenly bodies.
THE FOURTH SEPTENARY.
_Hayy ponders over Heaven and Stars._
Thus far had he arrived with his reflections about the _fourth septenary_ of his age. He recognised that the heavens and all the stars contained therein were bodies, because they are extended according to the three dimensions: length, breadth, and thickness.
Then he began to ask himself whether their extension was infinite, whether they extended to an endless length and breadth, or whether they were circumscribed by any bounds and terminated by certain limits.
_Hayy finds that the Body of Heaven is finite._
This problem continually occupied his mind. But soon, owing to the power of his reflection and the penetration of his thought, he perceived that the idea of an infinite body was an absurdity, an impossibility, a notion quite unintelligible. And he confirmed himself in this way of thinking by numerous arguments that presented themselves to his mind.
And when, by the singular sharpness of his wit, he had satisfied himself that the body of heaven was finite, he wanted to find out, in the next place, of what form it was and how it was limited by the superficies that compassed it round.
_Hayy contemplates Sun, Moon, and Stars._
First of all he contemplated the sun, moon, and stars, and saw that they all rose in the East, and set in the West; and those lights which went right over his head described a greater circle, whilst those at a greater distance from the vertical point towards the North or South described the lesser circle. So that the least circles which were described by any of the stars were those two which went round the two poles, the one North, the other South, the last of which is the circle of the star Suhail (that is Canopus) and the circle Al-farkadani, which was next the northern.
And, since he lived in an island situated under the equinoctial line, all those circles cut the horizon at right angles and had alike reference to North and South, seeing both the poles appeared to him at once. He observed that when a star arose in a larger circle and another in a lesser, yet they both arose together and set at the same time, and he noticed it to be the case with all stars at all times.
_Hayy concludes that the Heaven is of a spherical Figure._
Therefore, it was evident to him that the heaven was of a spherical figure.
In this he was further confirmed by observing the return of the sun, moon, and the other stars to the East after their setting; and also because they always appeared to him of the same proportion of magnitude when they arose, when they were in the midst of heaven, and when they set; for if their motions had not been circular, they must have been nearer to sight at some time than at others; and then their dimensions would have appeared greater or lesser when they were nearer to him or further off.
But since there was no such appearance, he felt assured that the figure of heaven was spherical. Then he considered the motion of the moon, and saw that it was carried from the East to the West as the other planets were. So that at length a great part of astronomy became known to him.
It appeared to him, further, that the motions of the planets were in different spheres, all of which were comprehended in another that was above them all, and which turned about all the rest in the space of a day and a night. But it would be too tedious to set down, to explain in particular, how he advanced in this science; and what we have already said is quite sufficient for our present purpose.
Now, when he had attained to this degree of astronomical science, he found that the whole of the heavens and whatever it contained was one thing composed of parts mutually joined together; and that all those bodies which he had before considered--as earth, water, air, plants, animals--were all of them contained in it, so that none of them went beyond its bounds. He found also that the whole body was like one animal in which the stars answered to the senses; the spheres joined together answered to the limbs; and all those bodies therein, which were liable to generation and corruption, resembled those things which are contained in the belly of an animal.
_Hayy ponders over the Creation of the World._
Now, whereas it appeared to him that the whole world was only one Substance which stood in need of a voluntary Agent, and that its various parts seemed to him but one thing, in like manner as the bodies of the lower world which is subject to generation and corruption, he took a broad view of the whole world, and debated within himself whether it existed in time after it had been, and came to be out of nothing; or whether it was a thing that had existed from eternity and never wanted a beginning.
In respect to this matter, he had many and grave doubts within himself, so that neither of these opinions prevailed over the other. For when he proposed to himself the belief of eternity, there arose many objections in his mind with regard to the impossibility of an _infinite being_, just as the existence of an _infinite body_ had seemed impossible to him.
He saw, furthermore, that any substance that was not void of _qualities_ produced anew, but always endued with them, must also itself be produced anew, because it cannot be said to be before them; and that which cannot exist before qualities newly produced, must needs itself be newly produced.
On the other hand, however, when he proposed to himself to believe in a new production thereof, other objections occurred to him--in particular this, that the notion of its being produced after non-existence could in no wise be understood, unless it was supposed there was some time antecedent to its existence; whereas time was amongst the number of those things that belonged to the world and was inseparable therefrom, wherefore the world cannot be understood to be later than time.
He then reasoned within himself: if the world be produced anew, it must needs have a producer or creator; and if so, why did this creator create the world now and not before?
Was it because some motive supervened which it had not before? But there was nothing besides him, the Creator.
Was it, then, owing to some change in his own nature? If so, what has caused this change?
Thus he did not cease to consider these things within himself for some years, and to ponder over its different bearings; and a great many arguments offered themselves on both sides, so that neither of those opinions preponderated in his judgment over the other.
_Hayy concludes that the world must have a Creator without bodily Substance._
Since it seemed difficult to him to make a definite decision on this question, he began to consider within himself what would be the necessary consequence which did follow from either of those opinions, and that they might both be alike. And he perceived that, if he supposed the world to be created in time, and to have had an existence after non-existence, it would necessarily follow therefrom that the world could not come forth into existence by its own power, but required some agent to produce it; but this agent could not be perceived by any of the senses; for if it were an object of the senses, it would be _body_, and if _body_, part of the world, and would have had its existence anew; so that it would have stood in need of some other cause which should have produced it anew. And if this second creator were also a body, he would depend upon a third, and that third upon a fourth, and so on _ad infinitum_, which, however, would be absurd and irrational.
The world, therefore, must necessarily have a creator that has not a bodily substance; and as the creator is, indeed, without such a bodily substance, it is quite impossible for us to apprehend him by any of our senses; for we perceive nothing by the help of the five senses but bodies or such qualities as adhere to bodies.
And since it cannot be apprehended by sense, neither can it be comprehended by imagination. For imagination is nothing else but a representation of the forms of things, when their bodily objects are absent. And seeing it is not a body, we must not attribute to him any bodily properties, the first of which is extension into length, breadth, thickness; but he is free from that, and also from all other properties of body that flow from it. And seeing he is the Creator of the world, doubtless he knows whatsoever is in it, and has the sovereign command over it. "Shall not he know, that created it? For he is most eminent in knowledge and omniscient." (Koran.)
On the other side he saw that if he believed in the eternity of the world, and that it was ever as it is now, and that no time of chaos preceded it, that necessarily it would follow that motion was from eternity also, without any period of beginning, because there could be no rest before it whence to take its beginning.
Now, every motion necessarily requires a _mover_, and that mover is either some power diffused in some body, to wit, either in the body of the thing moved or else through some other body without it, or else some other power that is not diffused or dispersed through anything at all.
Now every power diffused in any body and dispersed through it, is divided or doubled. For example: gravity in a stone which causes it to move downwards. For if the stone be divided into two parts, the gravity is also divided into two parts; and if you add thereto another stone of equal weight, the gravity is doubled. And if it were possible that the stone grew _ad infinitum_, the gravity would also grow _ad infinitum_. On the other hand, if the stone should grow to a certain size and remain there, also the gravity would increase to the same extent, and no farther.
Now it has already been demonstrated that every body must necessarily be finite, and consequently every power inherent in a body is also finite. If, therefore, we can find a power which produces an infinite effect, it must needs be such a power that is not inherent in any body.
Now we find that the heaven is moved with a perpetual motion, without any cessation at all.
Therefore, if we affirm that its motion has no beginning, it necessarily follows that the power that moves is not inherent in its own body nor in any other body that is without it; but proceeds from something altogether abstract from bodies, and which can be described by no terms applicable to bodies.
Then it was evident to him, from his former contemplation of the lower world which is liable to generation and corruption, that the true essence of body consisted in its form, which is its disposition to various motions, but that that part of its essence which consisted in matter was very mean and poor, and can scarcely be conceived. Therefore the existence of the whole world consists in its disposition to be moved by this Mover, who is free of all matter and of all adjuncts belonging to the body, abstracted from everything which senses can apprehend or imagination can reach.
And since he is the efficient cause of the motion of the heaven, in which (though there be different kinds) there is no difference, no innovation or cessation, doubtless he has power over it and a perfect knowledge of it.
Thus his contemplation brought him to the same conclusion to which he had arrived before. Nor did it trouble him in any way that he doubted the eternity of the world and its existence anew. For either way it was manifest to him that the Creator of the world was no body nor joined to body nor separated therefrom. For conjunction and separation, to be within and without, are the qualities of bodies, from which the Creator is quite free. And because every body stands in need of a form to be added to their matter, considering it cannot subsist but by that, nor exist without it, but by this voluntary Agent, it appeared to him that all things owed their existence to this Agent; and that none of them could subsist but through him; and consequently this Agent was the cause of them all, and they the effects, whether they were newly created after non-existence or whether they had no beginning with respect of time, without any privation foregoing it.
For upon either of these two cases their existence depended, for they could not continue, unless he continued, nor exist unless he existed, nor be eternal without his being eternal; but he stood not in any need of them nor in any way depended upon them.
And how should it be otherwise, considering it has been demonstrated that its power and virtue is infinite, whereas all bodies are finite and terminated and equally whatsoever adhereth unto them or dependeth upon them; therefore that the whole world, and whatsoever is in it, heaven, earth or stars, and whatsoever belongs to them, above or beneath them, is all his work and creation and consequently posterior to him in nature though not in time. As if you take any body in your hand and then move your hand, the body must necessarily follow the motion of your hand with a motion which is posterior to the motion of the hand in nature, though not in time, seeing both motions began together.
So all this world is created and caused by this Agent out of time, whose command is, when he would have anything done: _Let it be_, and _it is_.
_Hayy admires the work of the Creator._
Now, when he saw that all things existing were the work of the Creator, he again considered the power of the same, greatly admiring so rare a workmanship, such accurate wisdom and profound knowledge.
There appeared to him in the most minute creatures (much more in the greater) such signs of wisdom and marvels of the work of creation that his mind was filled with the greatest admiration. Then he became assured that all these things must proceed from a voluntary Agent of infinite perfection, even above all perfection, to whom even the weight of an atom could not be unknown whether in heaven or earth, nor any other thing whether lesser or greater than it.
Thereupon he considered all the different sorts of animals, and how this Agent had given to every one of them such a fabric of body and then taught them what use to make thereof. For if he had not taught them to use the members he had given them for those employments for which they were designed, they would not have derived any benefit or advantage therefrom, but on the contrary would rather have found them a burden.
Hence he knew that he was most bountiful and most gracious of all. And then, when he perceived among the creatures anything that had beauty, perfection, power and strength, or whatever other excellency it had, he concluded that it must necessarily proceed from that voluntary Agent, from his existence and by his operation.
He knew that the qualities that were in him were much greater, more perfect, more absolute, more bountiful, more excellent and more lasting; and there was no comparison between those things that were in him and those that were found in the animals.
Nor did he cease to go on with his search till he had run through all the attributes of perfection, and found that they were all in the Agent and proceeded from him, and that he was worthy of them more than any to whom they should be ascribed.
Also he searched all the attributes of defects, and saw him free from them and void of them. And how was it possible for him to be otherwise, since the notion of imperfection is nothing but mere privation or what depends upon it.
How should he in any degree partake of privation, who is a most simple being, the very essence himself, and giving a being to everything that exists, and besides whom there is no existence. _For He is the Existence, He is the Absolute, He is the Perfection, He is the Beauty, He is the Glory, He is the Power, He is the Knowledge, He is He, and all Things perish beside Him._ (Koran.)
FIFTH SEPTENARY.
_Hayy is completely taken up with the Contemplation of the Superior Intellectual World._
Thus far he had advanced in his knowledge by the end of the _fifth septenary_ from his birth, that is when he was thirty-five years old. And the consideration of this supreme being was then so fixed in his mind that it hindered him to think of any other thing, so that he forgot altogether the consideration of their existence and of their nature, until in the end it came to this, that as soon as he cast his eyes upon any thing of any kind whatsoever, he at once saw in it the prints of this Agent, and in a moment his thoughts were diverted from the Creature and transferred to the Creator, so that his heart was altogether withdrawn from thinking on this inferior world, which contains the objects of sense (inferior sensible world), and entirely taken up with the contemplation of the superior intellectual world.
_Hayy examines all his Senses and Faculties._
Having now attained the knowledge of this supreme being of permanent existence, which has no cause of its own existence, but itself is the cause of the existence of all other things, he was next desirous to know by what means he came to this knowledge and by what faculty he had apprehended this being.
Therefore he first examined all his senses, viz. his hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, and feeling, and saw that all these apprehended nothing but what was bodily or what is in the body.
For the hearing apprehended nothing but sounds, and these arose from the agitation of the air, by the friction of bodies. The sight apprehends colours, the smelling odours; the taste savours, the touch temperatures of the body, hardness and softness, roughness and smoothness. Nor does the imagination apprehend anything which has not length, breadth, and thickness.
Now all these things which are thus apprehended are the adjuncts of bodies, and our senses apprehend nothing else, because they are faculties diffused through our bodies and divided according to the division of bodies, and therefore cannot apprehend anything else but divisible body. For as this faculty is diffused through the visible body, it must necessarily, whenever it apprehends anything, be divided as the faculty is divided. Therefore every faculty which is seated in the body can apprehend nothing except a body, or what is inherent in a body.
Now it has already been shown that this necessarily existent being is free from all material qualities in any respect, and consequently cannot be apprehended except by something which is neither matter nor any faculty inherent in matter, or in any way dependent upon it, neither within it nor without it, neither joined to it nor separated from it.
It appeared also to him that he apprehended this supreme being, and that he gained a firm knowledge of it by that which was his own essence. It was therefore clear to him that his essence was something incorporeal without any material quality; and whatever material thing he apprehended by his outward sense, was not in reality his essence; but that it was something of an incorporeal substance, whereby he apprehended that absolute and perfect being that is necessarily and of itself existent.
Having thus learnt that his real essence was not a corporeal substance perceived by his senses and compassed about by his skin, his body seemed to him something altogether contemptible, and so he wholly addicted himself to the contemplation of that noble essence whereby he apprehended that noble and necessarily existent being. Then he considered within himself, whether this noble essence could possibly be dissolved, corrupted, and vanish altogether, or whether it were of perpetual duration.
Now he knew that corruption and dissolution were properties of bodies, and consisted in putting off one form and putting on another; as for instance when water is changed into air and air into water, or when herbs are turned into earth or ashes, and earth into herbs--for this is the true notion of corruption. But an incorporeal being, independent of body and altogether free therefrom, cannot be liable to corruption.
Having thus quite assured himself that his real essence could not be corrupted, he desired to know in what condition it would be itself when it left the body and was separated therefrom; but now he knew that it was not so, until the body was no longer a fit instrument for its use.
Therefore weighing in his mind all his apprehensive faculties, he saw that every one of them apprehended its object, sometimes potentially, sometimes actually--as when the eye is shut or turns itself away from the visible object, it is potentially apprehensive--which means, though it does not actually apprehend it at present, yet is able to do so for the time to come. And when the eye is open and turned toward the effect, it is actually apprehensive, which means, it apprehends it at present. And so it is with all the other faculties.
Furthermore he saw that if any of these faculties never actually apprehended its proper object, yet so long as it is potentially apprehensive, it has no desire to apprehend any particular object, because it has no knowledge thereof, as is seen in a man who is born blind. But if it did ever actually apprehend, and becomes afterwards potentially apprehensive, it is inclined to apprehend its object actually, because it has been acquainted with the object and is intent upon it, as a man, who has before enjoyed his sight, continually desires visible objects after he is blind; and the more glorious, perfect, and beautiful the object is, the more his desire increases and the greater is his grief for the loss.
So if we can find out anything which has an unlimited perfection, infinite beauty, brightness and splendour, that does not proceed from it, then he who is deprived of the sight and knowledge of that thing, after having once known it, must necessarily suffer inexpressible anguish, so long as he remains destitute thereof; whereas he that has it continually present before him, must needs enjoy uninterrupted delight, perpetual felicity, boundless joy and gladness.
HAYY RETURNS TO THE SENSIBLE WORLD.
As to the end of his story, I will tell you all about it, with the help of God.
When _Hayy_ returned to the Sensible World, after his digression into the Divine World, he began to loathe the burden and troubles of this mortal life on earth, and to be filled with a most earnest and passionate desire of the life to come; and he strove to return to the same state in the same way as at first, until he attained thereto with less labour than he had done formerly. And he continued in it the second time longer than at the first.
Then he returned to the Sensible World; and then again he sought to re-enter into that state of speculation, and found it easier than the first and second time, and continued therein much longer.
In this way it grew easier and easier unto him, and his remaining therein became longer and longer, until at last he could attain it whenever he desired, and remain therein as long as he pleased, except when the necessity of his body required it. Those necessities, however, he had restrained within so narrow a compass that a narrower could hardly be imagined.
And, while in this state he often wished that God, the Almighty and Glorious, would altogether detach him from this body of his that called him away from that place, so that he might wholly and continually give himself up to his delight, and might be freed from all that pain and grief with which he was afflicted, as often as he was forced to turn his mind from that state to attend on his bodily necessities.
SEVENTH SEPTENARY.
_Asal and Salaman appear on the Scene._
Thus he continued in this state until he had passed the _seventh septenary_ of his age, that is, until he was fifty years of age. Then it happened that he made the acquaintance of Asal. And the account of this meeting with him we shall now relate, with the help of God.
They report that there is an Island near unto that where _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ was born--according to one of those two different accounts as to the manner of his birth--unto which had retired one of those pious sects that had for its founder some of the ancient Prophets (the Mercy of God be upon them!), a sect which used to discourse on all things that had a new existence in nature and by way of parables to represent their images to the imagination, so that their impressions fixed themselves in the minds of men. This sect spread itself in that Island and began to prevail and become famous, till at length the King himself entered it and forced his subjects also to adhere to it.
Now there were born in that same Island two men of great endowments and excellence, great lovers of goodness--their names were _Asal_ and _Salaman_. Meeting with this sect, they embraced it most heartily, addressing themselves to the punctual observance of all its precepts and the continuous exercise of the works required thereby; and to that end they entered into a bond of friendship with each other. They studiously made careful inquiries into the passages contained in the law of that sect, amongst others on the descriptions of God, the Almighty and the most Glorious, and His angels; on the resurrection, and the rewards and punishments of a future life.
_Nature and Character of Asal and Salaman._
Now, of the two _Asal_ was the one who made a deeper search into the inside of things, was more given to studying mystical meanings and senses of words, and diligently endeavoured to interpret them. _Salaman_, on the other hand, his fellow student, mostly observed the outward things, never troubling himself about such interpretations, and abstained from a curious search and speculation of things. Apart from this difference, however, both were constant in performing those ceremonies prescribed, and strove to fight against their unruly passions and affections.
_Further Differences of Asal and Salaman._
Now, in this law there were contained some sayings which seemed to exhort and encourage men to affect retirement and a solitary life, and to intimate that salvation and happiness were to be attained thereby; other sayings, again, seemed to encourage men unto conversation and fellowship and applying themselves to embrace human society.
_Asal_ addicted himself wholly to retirement, and he preferred those sayings which tended thereunto, seeing that he was by nature inclined to perpetual contemplation, and searching into the meanings of things; for he had great hopes of attaining to his ends by selecting a solitary life.
_Salaman_, however, applied himself to conversation and human society and those sayings of the law that tended that way, because he had a natural aversion to contemplation and more subtle inquiries into things; and it occurred to him that society and company tended to drive away evil thoughts, and banished that diversity of opinions which intruded themselves into his mind and kept him from attending the motions and suggestions of evil spirits. And in the end their disagreement on this particular point caused them to depart one from another.
_Asal repairs to Hayy's Island._
Now _Asal_ had heard of that Island wherein it is reported that Hayy grew up. He knew the fruitfulness and conveniences thereof and the health-giving temper of its air, so that it would afford him such a resting-place as he wished to find. He decided, therefore, to go thither and to withdraw himself from company and society for the remainder of his days.
Therefore, gathering all his goods together, with a part thereof he hired a ship to convey him to that Island, whilst the rest he distributed among the poor people. Then he took his farewell from his friend Salaman and went abroad. The mariners transported him safely unto the Island, set him ashore, and departed.
There he continued serving God, the Almighty and Glorious, sanctifying him and meditating upon his glorious names and attributes, without being in any way interrupted or disturbed. When he felt hungry he took of the fruits of the Island or he got by hunting as much as satisfied his hunger.
In this state he remained for some time, enjoying the greatest possible pleasure and complete tranquillity of mind, arising out of the communication he had with his Lord; and every day experiencing his favours and most precious gifts, he easily brought to his hand such things as he wanted and were necessary for his support, which confirmed his belief in him and gave him great comfort.
_Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ in the meantime was wholly taken up with sublime speculations, and never stirred out of his cave but once a week, to take unto him such food as most readily presented itself. Thus it happened that _Asal_ did not light upon him at first. For walking round the utmost parts of the Island, and compassing the extremes thereof, he neither met any man nor could he perceive the footsteps of any one: which increased his gladness of mind, and he was delighted with what he had proposed unto himself--that was solitude and retirement.
_Hayy and Asal meet._
At last it came to pass at a certain time that, _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ stepping out of his cell to look out for some food in the same place to which _Asal_ had retired, they spied one another.
_Asal_, for his part, had no doubt but that the man he saw was some religious person given to solitude who had retired into that Island as he had done himself. He was afraid, therefore, lest if he should come up to him and make himself known, it might spoil his meditation, and thus become an impediment to him in accomplishing his desires.
But, as for _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, he could not imagine what it was: for of all the creatures he had ever beheld in his life, there was none that resembled him in the least.
Now _Asal_ was clothed in a black coat, made up of hair and wool, which he fancied was a natural cover; at which _Hayy_ stood a long time in utter wonder and astonishment. Thereupon _Asal_, being afraid lest he should disturb his meditation and divert his attention therefrom, turned his back and fled. _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ ran after him, driven by an innate desire to know and find out the truth of things.
When he saw, however, that _Asal_ fled from him with all his might in such haste, he retired a little into the background and hid himself there, so that _Asal_ thought he had gone off altogether and gone far away from that place where he had seen him. _Asal_ therefore began to betake himself, as his custom was, unto his prayers and reading, to invocation and weeping, to supplication and complaining, and these exercises had quite turned him away from any other thing.
_Hayy catches hold of Asal._
In the meantime _Hayy_ drew near little by little, while _Asal_ did not perceive him at all, until at length he came so near as to hear his reading and the prayers he uttered. He also took notice of his humble gesture and his weeping, whence he heard a pleasant voice, consisting of words quite distinct, such as he had never observed before in any kind of animals. Then, beholding his shape and lineaments, he observed that he was of the same form with himself. He was satisfied that the coat with which he was clothed was not a natural skin, but an artificial habit like unto his own clothing. And when he observed the decency and comeliness of his behaviour and his supplication and weeping, he did not at all question but that he was one of the Essences, which had the knowledge of the _True One_.
Therefore, he felt a passionate desire to get acquainted with him, to find out what was the matter with him and what was the cause of that weeping and supplication. Thereupon he came nearer unto him, until _Asal_, observing it, took to his heels again. But _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, endowed with vigour and power, both of knowledge and body, bestowed upon him by God--pursued him with all his might, till at last he overtook him, seized him, and held him fast that he could not make again his escape from him.
_Hayy and Asal stroke one another._
Thereupon, when _Asal_ looked upon him and beheld him clothed with the skins of wild beasts with the hair on, and his own hair so long that it covered part of his body, and observed his great swiftness and strength, he was greatly afraid of him and began to pacify him by stroking him, and to entertain him in words. But _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ did not understand a word of what he said nor knew any of his meaning, only he perceived the tokens of his fear and endeavoured to allay his fear with such voices as he had learned from some of the animals: he gently stroked his hand, his head, and the sides of his neck, and showed kindness unto him and expressed much gladness and joy, till at last _Asal's_ fear was assuaged, and he perceived that he intended no evil to him.
_Hayy and Asal try to understand each other._
Now _Asal_, in his earnest desire to obtain the knowledge of things, had studied most languages and was skilful of them. So he began to speak to _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, and to interrogate him concerning his condition in every tongue he knew, and asked him questions concerning his doings and ways of life, and took pains to make himself understood by him. But it was all in vain: for _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, taking notice of all this, stood all the time wondering at what he heard, being quite at a loss to know what it all meant. He observed only the serenity of his countenance and manifest signs of goodwill. Thus they stood wrapped in wonder, looking at one another.
_Asal makes Hayy eat of his food._
Now _Asal_ had by him some of the remainder of the food which he had brought along with him, from the inhabited Island from whence he came. This he offered now to _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, but he did not know what it was; for he had never seen anything of that kind before. Then _Asal_, eating some of it himself, invited _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ to take some of it with him. But _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ bethought himself of those laws which he had prescribed to himself concerning the taking of his food, and seeing he knew not the nature of those things that were set before him, and whether it was lawful for him or not to partake thereof, restrained himself from eating. Whereupon _Asal_ continued urging him on and kindly invited him thereunto.
_Hayy Ibn Yokdhan at last joins Asal at dinner, but repents afterwards._
At last _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, being desirous and very anxious to get acquainted with him, and, besides, being afraid that in continuing to insist on his refusal, he might alienate his affections from him, ventured to partake of that meat and to eat thereof. But as soon as he had tasted it and found it very pleasant to his taste, he recognised that he had done amiss by breaking his contract and the resolution and promises he had made to himself concerning his diet. Thus he became greatly repentant of what he had done, and had a mind of withdrawing himself from _Asal_, and to betake himself unto his former state by endeavouring to return to his former exercise of sublime speculation.
_Asal becomes Hayy's Companion and Teacher._
When he found that this intellectual vision did not immediately return to him, he thought it best to remain with _Asal_ in the sensible world, until he had thoroughly satisfied himself as to his condition, so that afterwards there might remain no further inclination towards him, and then he might return to his former state and apply himself to his former contemplation without any interruption. So he joined himself to the company and fellowship of _Asal_: and when _Asal_ saw that he could not speak, he was fully assured that no danger could arise to his religion by keeping company with him; and besides he had hopes that it might come to pass that he should teach him Language, Knowledge, and Religion, when he should obtain a very great reward and a nearer approach unto God.
So _Asal_ began to teach him to speak, first by showing him particular things, and pronouncing their names, and by repeating them often unto him he made him to pronounce them again, which he presently did, until he had taught him all names, and so by degrees he advanced him so far that he could speak in a very short time.
_Hayy enlightens Asal on his Inner Life._
Then _Asal_ began to interrogate him concerning his condition, and from whence he had come into that Island. But _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_, in his reply, told him that he knew nothing of his own origin, nor of any father or mother that he had, but only that Roe that brought him up.
Then he described to him his whole state and manner of living, from beginning to end, and what progress he had made in knowledge, until he had attained to that degree of conjunction with God.
Then _Asal_ heard from him the declaration of those truths which he related, of those essences which are separated from the sensible world and which have the knowledge of the _Essence_, of that _True One_--the Almighty and Glorious--and heard him give an account of the _Essence_ of that _True One_--the Almighty and Glorious--with all his attributes, and had described to him as far as it was possible for him to describe that which he had witnessed when he had reached the joys of those that are joined unto God, and the torments and griefs of those that are separated from him.
_Asal_ then had no doubt but that all those things which were delivered in his law, concerning the commandment of that Almighty and Glorious God, his angels and books, his messengers and the last day, Paradise and Hell--all these were resemblances of what _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ had seen. And the eyes of his heart were opened, and his mind was enlightened, when he saw that the things which he apprehended and discerned by reason, and that which he had received by tradition ("the Original and the Copy"), agreed very well together. And now the ways of mystical interpretation became easy unto him, nor was there anything difficult or remained dark of those precepts which he had received that was not now quite plain and perspicuous.
In this way his intellectual faculty grew strong and vigorous, and he began to look upon _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ with such admiration and respect that he greatly reverenced him, and assured himself that he was _one of the Saints of God, such as were not molested with any fear upon them, and who shall not suffer through pain_. (Koran.)
Thereupon he made himself ready to wait upon him, to imitate him, and to follow his admonitions in the performance of such works as did occur unto him, in those legal things which formerly he had learned in his religion.
_Asal tells Hayy of the Island from whence he had come._
Then _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ began to enquire of him concerning his condition and his manner of living, and _Asal_ gave him an account of the state of that Island from whence he had come--what kind of people inhabited it, and what sort of life they led before that religious sect which we mentioned came among them, and how it was now, since his coming thereinto.
He also gave him an account of all those things that were delivered in the law, concerning the description of the divine world, of Paradise and the fire of Hell (Gehenna), of the awakening and resurrection of mankind, of their gathering unto Judgment, of the account then to be given up, of the scales wherein the actions of men should be weighed, and the way through which they were to pass.
Now, _Hayy Ibn Yokdhan_ understood very well all those things, nor did he perceive that any of them were unsuitable to that which he had seen when in that exalted condition; and he knew that he who had described those things and delivered them unto men, was true in so declaring them, and that in these his sayings he was a true and faithful messenger sent from God. And he believed him and acknowledged the truth thereof and bore testimony to his mission.
Then he began to ask him concerning the precepts which the messenger of God had delivered and the rites of worship which he had ordained. Thus _Asal_ told him of _Prayer_, _Alms_, _Fasting_, and _Pilgrimage_, and the like external works: which he received and practised, and took upon him the performance thereof, in obedience to that command of the Lawgiver, being persuaded and assured of the truth and faith of him who delivered the same. Notwithstanding, there were _two things_ that fixed themselves into his mind which he wondered at, neither could he perceive wherein the wisdom thereof consisted.
One of those two things was, why this messenger of God, in describing most things that relate to the divine world, used to express them unto men by parables of similitudes and abstained from a clear unfolding thereof, which caused a good many men to fall into that error by affirming corporeity in God and believing that to be something of that _Essence_ the _True One_, the Almighty and Glorious, from which, however, it is absolutely free, and in the same manner concerning those things which relate to the rewards and punishments of a future world.
The other was why he did not proceed beyond those precepts and rites of worship, permitting men to seek after riches and the amassing of wealth, and to enjoy their liberty as to the matter of food: by which means they vainly delivered themselves unto vain things and turned themselves away from the truth. Whilst his judgment was that nothing ought to be taken from any; but only so much as may enable him to sustain the remainder of his life. But as to riches, he considered them of no value at all.
Now when he saw what was laid down and prescribed in the law concerning those things that belonged to the employment of riches, namely alms, and the distribution thereof and trading with them, also with regard to usury, mulcts, and punishments, these things seemed all very odd and uncouth unto him, and he judged them to be quite superfluous. For he said that if men would judge of the matter according to truth, they would certainly withdraw themselves from those vain things, and only follow the truth, so that all this would be quite superfluous, nor would any man challenge the property in riches as to have those dues exacted from him, or to cause his hands to be cut off for those things secretly stolen, or that lives should be destroyed by taking them away openly.
_Hayy observes that men are dull, stupid and brutish._
This was what he thought; and that which put this opinion into his mind was that he thought that all men were imbued with an ingenuous temper, a penetrating understanding, and a mind constant unto themselves. Nor did he know how stupid and dull they were, how ill advised and how inconstant in their resolutions; so much so that they were entirely like brutes, even more apt than they to wander out of the way.
Therefore, since he was greatly affected with pity towards mankind, and anxiously desired that he might be an instrument in their salvation, a resolution entered into his mind of going over to them that he might be able to unfold and lay before them the truth of things. This desire he therefore made known to his companion _Asal_, and asked whether he could find out any way whereby he could come unto them and discourse with them.
_Asal persuades Hayy to follow him to his Island._
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The Awakening of the SoulChapter II: Part 2
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