Chapter III (2)

It so happened that, after Jelāl’s death, this interlocutor of his went to Damascus, and there became blind. Friends flocked to visit him, and to condole with him. He wept bitterly, and cried aloud: “Alas, alas! what have I not suffered? That very moment, when Jelāl gave me that fatal answer, a black veil seemed to fall down over my eyes, so that I could not distinguish objects clearly, or their colours. But I have hope and faith in him, that, out of his sublime generosity, he will yet take pity on me, and pardon my presumption. The goodness of the saints is infinite; and Jelāl himself hath said: ‘Despair not because of one sin; for the ocean of divine mercy accepteth penitence.’”

The foregoing incident is also related with the following variation:—

Shemsu-’d-Dīn of Tebrīz had just then returned to Qonya, and was among those who accompanied Jelāl to the Perwāna’s palace, sitting down near him on the floor. When the question was put: “Where is your beloved?” Jelāl arose, and cast himself on the breast of Shems. That occurrence it was that made Shems, from that time forward, a man of mark in all Qonya.

28.

There was in Qonya a great physician, of eminence and ability, who used occasionally to visit Jelāl.

On one of those days, Jelāl requested him to prepare seventeen purgative draughts by a certain time, propitious for taking medicine, as that number of his friends required them.

When the specified time came, Jelāl went to the physician’s house, and received the seventeen draughts. He immediately began, and, in the physician’s presence, drank off the whole seventeen in succession, thence returning home.

The physician followed him there, to render the assistance he felt sure would be wanted. He found Jelāl seated as usual, in perfect health, and lecturing to his disciples. On inquiring how he felt, Jelāl answered, in the words so often repeated in the Qur’ān (ii. 23, &c.): “Beneath which rivers flow.” The physician recommended Jelāl to abstain from water. Jelāl instantly ordered ice to be brought and broken up small. Of this he swallowed an inordinate quantity, while the physician looked on.

Jelāl then went to a hot-bath. After bathing, he began to sing and dance; continuing in those exercises three whole days and nights, without intermission.

The physician declared this to be the greatest miracle ever wrought by prophet or by saint. With his whole family, and with many of the greatest in the medical profession, he joined himself to the multitude of Jelāl’s disciples of the most sincere.

29.

The Perwāna is related to have said publicly, in his own palace, that Jelāl was a matchless monarch, no sovereign having ever appeared in any age like unto him; but that his disciples were a very disreputable set.

These words were reported to them, and the company of disciples were greatly scandalised at the imputation. Jelāl sent a note to the Perwāna, of which the following is the substance:—

“Had my disciples been good men, I had been their disciple. Inasmuch as they were bad, I accepted them as my disciples, that they might reform and become good,--of the company of the righteous. By the soul of my father, they were not accepted as disciples, until God had made Himself responsible that they would attain to mercy and grace, admitted among those accepted of Him. Until that assurance was given, they were not received by me, nor had they any place in the hearts of the servants of God. ‘The sons of grace are saved; the children of wrath are sick; for the sake of Thy mercy, we, a people of wrath, have come to Thee.’”

When the Perwāna had read and considered these words, he became still more attached to Jelāl; arose, came to him, asked pardon, and prayed for forgiveness of God, distributing largely of his bounty among the disciples.

30.

Another great and good man once observed: “Jelāl is a great saint and a sovereign; but he must be dragged forth from among his disciples.” This was reported to Jelāl, who smiled, and said: “If he can!”

Soon afterwards he added: “Why, then, is it that my followers are looked upon with spite by the men of the world? It is because they are beloved of God, and favourably regarded by Him. I have sifted all mankind; and all have fallen through my sieve, excepting these friends of mine. They have remained. My existence is the life of my friends, and the existence of my friends is the life of the men of the world, whether they know this, or whether they ignore it.”

31.

There was a young merchant, whose house was near Jelāl’s college, and who had professed himself a sincere and ardent disciple.

He conceived a desire and intention to make a voyage to Egypt; but his friends tried to dissuade him. His intention was reported to Jelāl, who strictly and rigorously prohibited his undertaking the voyage.

The young man could not divest himself of his desire, and had no peace of mind; so one night he clandestinely stole away, and went off to Syria. Arrived at Antioch, he embarked in a ship, and set sail. As God had willed, his ship was taken by Firengī pirates. He was made prisoner, and was confined in a deep dungeon, where he had a daily portion of food doled out to him, barely sufficient to keep his body and soul together.

He was thus kept imprisoned forty days, during which he wept bitterly, and reproached himself for having been disobedient to the injunction of Jelāl; saying: “This is the reward of my crime. I have disobeyed the command of my sovereign, following after my own evil propensity.”

Precisely on the night of the fortieth day, he saw Jelāl in a dream, who addressed him, and said: “To-morrow, to whatever questions these misbelievers may ask thee, do thou return the answer: ‘I know.’ By that means shalt thou be released.” He awoke bewildered, returned thanks to Heaven, and sat down in holy meditation, awaiting the solution of the dream.

Shortly, he saw a company of Firengī people come to him, with whom was an interpreter. They asked him: “Knowest thou aught of philosophy, and canst thou practise therapeutics? Our prince is sick.” His answer was: “I know.”

They immediately took him out of the pit, led him to a bath, and dressed him in a handsome vestment of honour. They then conducted him to the residence of the sick man.

The young merchant, inspired of God, ordered them to bring him seven fruits. These he prepared with a little scammony, and made the whole into a draught, which he administered to the patient.

By the grace of God, and the intercession of the saints, his treatment was crowned with success, after two or three visits. The Firengī prince recovered; and by reason that the favour of Jelāl was upon that young merchant, though he was utterly illiterate, he became a philosopher. Jelāl assisted him.

When the Firengī prince had entirely recovered his health, and had arisen from his sick-bed, he told the young merchant to ask of him whatsoever he might wish. He asked for his freedom, and for leave to return home, that he might rejoin his teacher. He then related all that had befallen him;--his disobedience, his vision, and the assistance of Jelāl. The whole audience of Firengīs, without sight of Jelāl, became believers in him, and wooers of him.

They set the young merchant free, and allowed him to depart, bestowing on him rich presents and a bountiful outfit.

On his arrival at the metropolis, before going to his own house, he hastened to pay his respects to Jelāl. On beholding the sacred features from afar, he threw himself on the earth, embraced Jelāl’s two feet, kissed them, rubbed his face upon them, and wept. Jelāl raised him, kissed both his cheeks, and said: “It was a narrow escape through thy curing the Firengī prince. Thou didst abscond; but henceforward, do thou remain at home, and occupy thyself in earning what is lawful. Take contentment as thy exemplar. The sufferings of the sea, the commotion of the ship, the calamity of captivity, and the darkness of the dungeon, are so many evils. Contentment is a very blessing from God.”

32.

Jelāl one day was going from his college into the town, when by chance he met a Christian monk, who made him an obeisance. Jelāl asked him which was the elder, himself or his beard. The monk replied: “I am twenty years older than my beard. It came forth that number of years later.” Jelāl answered him: “Then I pity thee. Thy young beard has attained to maturity, whereas thou hast remained immature, as thou wast. Thou art as black, and as weak, and as untutored as ever. Alas for thee, if thou change not, and ripen not!”

The poor monk at once renounced his rope girdle, threw it away, professed the faith of Islām, and became a believer.

33.

A company of black-habited ones (Christian priests or monks) chanced to meet Jelāl one day, as they came from a distant place. When his disciples espied them afar off, they expressed their aversion from them by exclaiming: “O the dark-looking, disagreeable things!”

Jelāl remarked: “In the whole world, none are more generous than they are. They have given over to us, in this life, the faith of Islām, purity, cleanliness, and the various modes of worshipping God; while, in the world to come, they have left to us the everlasting abodes of paradise, the large-eyed damsels, and the pavilions, as well as the sight of God, of which they will enjoy no share; for God hath said (Qur’ān vii. 48): ‘Verily God hath made both of them forbidden things to the misbelievers!’ They walk in darkness and misbelief, willingly incurring the torments of hell. But, let only the sun of righteousness rise upon them suddenly, and they will become believers.”

Being now come near enough, they all made their obeisances to Jelāl, entered into conversation with him, and professed themselves true Muslims. Jelāl now turned to his disciples, and added: “God swallows up the darkness in the light, and the light in the darkness. He also makes in the darkness a place for the light.” The disciples bowed, and rejoiced.

34.

A certain well-known disciple related that, on one occasion, Jelāl and his friends went forth to the country-seat of Husām, and there held a grand festival of holy music and dancing until near daybreak. Jelāl then left off, to give his followers a little rest.

They dispersed about the grounds; and the narrator took a seat in a spot from whence he could see and observe Jelāl. The others all fell asleep; but he occupied himself with reflections on the miracles performed by various of the prophets and of the saints. He thought to himself: “I wonder whether this holy man works miracles. Of course he does; only, he keeps the fact quiet, to avoid the inconveniences of notoriety.”

Hardly had the thought crossed his mind, when Jelāl called him by name. On his approaching Jelāl, the latter stooped, picked up a pebble from the earth, placed it on the back of his own hand, and said to him: “Here, take this; it is thy portion; and be thou one of the thankful” (Qur’ān vii. 141).

The disciple examined the pebble by the light of the moon, and saw that it was a large ruby, exceedingly clear and brilliant, not to be found in the treasuries of kings.

Utterly astounded, he shrieked out, and swooned away; awaking the whole company with his shout; for he was a very loud-voiced man. On recovery, he told the others what had occurred. He also expressed to Jelāl his contrition for the temerity of his reflections.

Jelāl told him to carry the stone to the queen, and to mention how he had become possessed of it. The queen accepted it, had it valued, and gave to him a hundred and eighty thousand pieces of silver in return, besides rich gifts. She also distributed presents to all the members of the fraternity.

35.

A certain sheykh, son of a sheykh, and a man of great reputation for learning, came to Qonya, and was respectfully visited by all the people of eminence residing there.

It so happened that Jelāl and his friends were gone that day to a mosque in the country; and the new-comer, offended at Jelāl’s not hasting to visit him, made the remark in public: “Has Jelāl never heard the adage: ‘The newly-arrived one is visited’?”

One of Jelāl’s disciples chanced to be present, and heard this remark. On the other hand, Jelāl was expounding sublime truths in the mosque to his disciples, when suddenly he exclaimed, “My dear brother! I am the newly-arrived one, not thou. Thou and those like thee are bound to visit me, and so gain honour to yourselves.”

All his audience were surprised at this apostrophe; wondering to whom it was addressed. Jelāl then spake a parable: “One man came from Bagdād, and another went forth out of his house and ward; which of the two ought to pay the first visit to the other?”

All agreed in opinion that the man from Bagdād ought to be visited by the other. Then Jelāl explained, thus: “In reality, I am returned from the Bagdād of _nulliquity_, whereas this dearly beloved son of a sheykh, who has come here, has gone forth from a ward of this world. I am better entitled, therefore, to be visited than is he. I have been hymning in the Bagdād of the world of spirits the heavenly canticle: ‘I am the Truth,’ since a time anterior to the commencement of the present war, ere the truth obtained its victory.” The disciples expressed their concurrence, and rejoiced exceedingly.

By and by, the sheykh’s son was informed of this wonder. He at once arose, went on foot to visit Jelāl, uncovered his head, and owned that Jelāl was right. He further declared himself Jelāl’s disciple, and said: “My father enjoined me to put on ironed sandals, taking an iron-shod staff in my hand, and go forth in quest of Jelālu-’d-Dīn, since it is a duty of all to visit and reverence him who has spoken the truth and reposes on the truth. But the majesty of Jelāl is a hundredfold greater than what my father explained to me.”

36.

Jelāl once commanded one of his attendants to go and arrange a certain matter. The attendant answered: “God willing.”

Upon this, Jelāl was wroth, and shouted to him: “Stupid, garrulous fool!” The attendant fainted and foamed at the mouth.

The disciples interceded. Jelāl expressed his forgiveness; and the attendant recovered.

37.

On the occasion of a grand religious commemoration at the house of the Perwāna, in the presence of the Sultan Ruknu-’d-Dīn, this monarch was taken unwell, and the exercises were suspended, only, one of the disciples continued to sing and shout.

The Sultan remarked: “How ill-behaved is that man! Does he pretend to be more ecstatic than his teacher Jelālu-’d-Dīn?”

Jelāl heard this, and answered the king: “Thou art unable to withstand an attack of fever. How then canst thou expect a man devoured with an enthusiasm that threatens to swallow up even heaven itself, to calm down on a sudden?”

When the disciples heard this, they set up a shout; and the Sultan, after himself witnessing one or two of the mighty signs wrought by Jelāl, made his obeisance to him, and became a disciple.

38.

It has been related by some that the final overthrow of the rule of the Seljūqī dynasty in Asia Minor (in A.H. 700, A.D. 1300), was in this manner:—

The Sultan Ruknu-’d-Dīn had adopted Jelāl as his (spiritual) father. After a while, he held a great dervish festival in the palace. But, about that period, a certain Sheykh Bāba had created for himself a great name in Qonya, and certain intriguers had led the king to visit him.

It was shortly after that visit that the king held the revival in honour of Bāba in the Hall of the Bowls.

The sheykh was met and introduced in state by the court officials, and was then installed on the throne, with the Sultan seated on a chair by his side. Jelāl now made his appearance, saluted, and took his seat in a corner of the hall. Portions of the Qur’ān were recited, and exhortations were delivered, with hymns.

The Sultan then turned to Jelāl, and spoke: “Be it known to the Lord Jelāl, to the Doctors of the Law, and to the grandees, that I have adopted the Sheykh Bāba as my (spiritual) father, who has accepted me as his dutiful and affectionate son.”

All present shouted their approval, and prayed for a blessing on the arrangement. But Jelāl, burning with divine jealousy, instantly exclaimed (in words traditionally related of the prophet, Muhammed): “Verily, Sa’d is a jealous man; but I am more jealous than Sa’d; and God is still more jealous than I am.” To this he further added: “Since the Sultan has made the sheykh his father, we will make some other our son.” So saying, he gave his usual religious shout of ecstasy, and stalked out from the assembly.

Husāmu-’d-Dīn related that he saw the Sultan, when Jelāl thus quitted the presence, turn pale, as though shot with an arrow.

The grandees ran to stop Jelāl; but he would not return.

A few days afterwards, the officers of state adopted the resolution to invite the Sultan to go to another city, that they might take measures to get rid of Sheykh Bāba. The Sultan now went to consult Jelāl, and ask for his blessing before setting out. Jelāl advised him not to go. The matter had, however, been officially promulgated, and there was no possibility to alter arrangements.

On arriving at the other town, the Sultan was conducted to a private apartment, and forthwith strangled with a bowstring. Ere his breath failed, he invoked the name of Jelāl.

At that moment Jelāl was at his college, lost to consciousness in the enthusiasm of a musical service. Suddenly, he put his two forefingers into his two ears, and ordered the trumpets and chorus to join in. He then shouted vociferously, and recited aloud two of his own odes, of which one commences thus:

“My words were: ‘Go not; I’m thy friend; the world is rife
With threats of dire destruction; I’m the Fount of Life.’”

* * * * *

When the service was over, the disciples requested Jelāl’s son, Sultan Veled, to inquire of his father what all this might signify. In reply, he merely put off his cloak, and said aloud: “Let us perform the service for the burial of the dead.”

He acted as Precentor in the service, and all present joined in. Then, without waiting for his son to put any question, he addressed the assembly, saying: “Yea, Bahā’u-’d-Dīn and my friends! They have strangled the poor Sultan Ruknu-’d-Dīn. In his agony, he called on me, and shrieked. God had so ordained. I did not wish his voice to ring in my ears, and interrupt my devotions. He will fare better in the other world.”

(There is a serious anachronism in the foregoing account. Sultan Ruknu-’d-Dīn, whose name was Suleyman son of Key-Khusrew, was put to death by order of the Mogul emperor Abaqa Khān, in A.H. 664 (A.D. 1265), thirty-six years before the final extinction of the dynasty by order of Qāzān Khān, between Abaqa and whom no less than four emperors reigned. Besides this, Jelāl himself died in A.H. 672 (A.D. 1273), twenty-seven years before the last of the Seljūqī sovereigns, Key-Qubād son of Ferāmurz son of Key-Kāwus, was slaughtered, together with all living members of the race. Historians differ much respecting the names and order of succession of the last sovereigns of the dynasty; and the present anecdote shows how confused had become on the spot the legend of these puppets. Ruknu-’d-Dīn caused his own brother to be poisoned, as he had become jealous of the favour shown to that brother by the Mogul emperor. His own death was the reward of that act.)

39.

One day, in lecturing on self-abasement and humility, Jelāl spake a parable from the trees of the field, and said: “Every tree that yields no fruit, as the pine, the cypress, the box, &c., grows tall and straight, lifting up its head on high, and sending all its branches upwards; whereas all the fruit-bearing trees droop their heads, and trail their branches. In like manner, the Apostle of God was the most humble of men. Though he carried within himself all the virtues and excellencies of the ancients and of the moderns, he, like a fruitful tree, was more humble, and more of a dervish, than any other prophet. He is related to have said: ‘I am commanded to show consideration to all men, to be kind to them; and yet, no prophet was ever so ill-treated by men as I have been.’ We know that he had his head broken, and his teeth knocked out. Still he prayed: ‘O our Lord God, guide Thou my people aright; for they know not what they do.’ Other prophets have launched denunciations against the people to whom they were sent; and certainly, none have had greater cause to do so, than Muhammed.”

“Old Adam’s form was moulded first of clay from nature’s face;
Who’s not, as mire, low-minded’s not true son of Adam’s race.”

In like manner, Jelāl also had the commendable habit to show himself humble and considerate to all, even the lowest; especially so to children, and to old women. He used to bless them; and always bowed to those who bowed to him, even though these were not Muslims.

One day he met an Armenian butcher, who bowed to him seven times. Jelāl bowed to him in return. At another time he chanced upon a number of children who were playing, and who left their game, ran to him, and bowed. Jelāl bowed to them also; so much so, that one little fellow called out from afar: “Wait for me until I come.” Jelāl moved not away, until the child had come, bowed, and been bowed to.

At that time, people were speaking and writing against him. Legal opinions were obtained and circulated, to the effect that music, singing, and dancing, are unlawful. Out of his kindly disposition, and love of peace, Jelāl made no reply; and after a while all his detractors were silenced, and their writings clean forgotten, as though they had never been written; whereas, his family and followers will endure to the end of time, and will go on increasing continually.

40.

Jelāl once wrote a note to the Perwāna, interceding for a disciple who had been involved in an act of homicide, and had taken refuge in the house of another.

The Perwāna demurred; saying it was a very grave matter, a question of blood. Jelāl thereupon facetiously replied: “A homicide is popularly termed ‘a son of ‘Azrā’īl (the angel of death).’ Being such, what on earth is he to do, unless he kill some one?”

This repartee so pleased the Perwāna, that he pardoned the culprit, and paid himself to the heirs of the slain man the price of his blood.

41.

Jelāl one day went forth and preached in the market. Crowds collected round him. But he continued until night fell around him; so he was at length left alone.

The dogs of the market-place now collected in a circle about him, wagging their tails and whining.

Seeing this, Jelāl exclaimed: “By the Lord, the Highest, the Strongest, the All-Compelling One, besides whom none is high, or strong, or powerful! These dogs comprehend my discourse, and the truths I expound. Men call them dogs; but henceforward let them not be so termed. They are of the family of the ‘_Seven Sleepers_.’”[14]

42.

The Perwāna much wished Jelāl to give him private instruction at his palace; and requested Jelāl’s son, Sultan Veled, to intercede for him in the matter; which he did.

Jelāl replied to his son: “Bahā’u-’d-Dīn! He cannot bear that burden.” This was thrice repeated. Jelāl then remarked to his son: “Bahā’u-’d-Dīn! A bucket, the water of which is enough for forty, cannot be drained by one.”

Bahā made the reflection: “Had I not pressed the matter, I had never heard this wonderful saying.”

43.

At another time, the Perwāna, through Bahā’u-’d-Dīn, requested Jelāl to give a public lecture to all the men of science of the city, who were desirous to hear him.

His answer was: “A tree laden with fruit, had its branches bowed down to the earth therewith. At the time, doubts and gainsayings prevented the gardeners from gathering and enjoying the fruit. The tree has now raised its head to the skies, and beyond. Can they hope, then, to pluck and eat of its fruit?”

44.

Again, the Perwāna requested Jelāl himself to instruct him and give him counsel.

After a little reflection, Jelāl said: “I have heard that thou hast committed the Qur’ān to memory. Is it so?” “I have.” “I have heard that thou hast studied, under a great teacher, the Jāmi’u-’l-Usūl, that mighty work on the ‘Elements of Jurisprudence.’ Is it so?” “It is.”

“Then,” answered Jelāl, “thou knowest the Word of God, and thou knowest all the words and acts reported of His Apostle. But thou settest them at naught, and actest not up to their precepts. How, then, canst thou expect that words of mine will profit thee?”

The Perwāna was abashed, and burst into tears. He went his way; but from that day he began to execute justice, so as to become a rival of the great Chosroes. He made himself the phœnix of the age, and Jelāl accepted him as a disciple.

45.

A company of pilgrims arrived one year at Qonya from Mekka, on their way home elsewhere. They were taken in succession to visit all the chief men of rank and learning in the capital, and were received with every demonstration of respect.

At last they were conducted to Jelāl also, in his college. On seeing him seated there, they all screamed out and fainted away.

When they were recovered, Jelāl began to offer excuses, saying to them: “I fear you have been deceived, either by an impostor, or by some person resembling me in feature. There are men who strongly resemble one another.”

The pilgrims one and all objected: “Why talks he thus? Why strive to make us doubt our eyes? By the God of heaven and earth, he was with us in person, habited in the very dress he now wears, when we all assumed the pilgrim garb at Mekka. He performed with us all the ceremonies of the pilgrimage, there and at ‘Arafāt.[15] He visited with us the tomb of the Prophet at Medīna; though he never once ate or drank with us. Now he pretends that he does not know us or we know him.”

On hearing this declaration, Jelāl’s disciples were transported with joy, a musical festival ensued, and all those pilgrims became disciples.

46.

A certain rich merchant of Qonya, a disciple, as was his wife, of Jelāl’s, went to Mekka one year for the pilgrimage.

On the day when the victims are slaughtered, the lady had a dish of sweetmeat prepared, and sent some of it in a china bowl to Jelāl, to be eaten at dinner. She made the request that, when he partook of the food, he would favour her absent husband with his remembrance, his prayers, and his blessing.

Jelāl invited his disciples to the feast; and all ate of the lady’s sweetmeat to repletion. But the bowl still remained full.

Jelāl then said: “Oh, he too must partake of it.” He took the bowl, ascended to the terraced roof of the college with it, returning immediately empty-handed. His friends asked him what he had done with the bowl and the food. “I have handed them,” said Jelāl, “to her husband, whose property they are.” The company remained bewildered.

In due course of time, the pilgrims from Qonya returned home from Mekka; and out of the baggage of the merchant, the china bowl was produced, and sent in to the lady, who was much astonished at sight of it. She inquired of her husband how he had become possessed of that identical dish. He replied: “Ah! I also am at a loss to know how it happened. But, on the eve of the slaughter of the victims, I was seated in my tent, at ‘Arafāt, with a company of other pilgrims, when an arm projected into the tent, and placed this dish before me, filled with sweetmeat. I sent out servants to see who had brought it to me; but no one was found.” The lady at once inferred the truth, and guessed what had happened. Her husband was more and more astonished at such miraculous power.

Next day, husband and wife went to Jelāl, stood bare-headed before him, wept for joy, and related what had occurred. He answered:

“The whole thing is the effect of your trust and belief. God has merely made use of my hand as the instrument wherewith to make manifest His power.”

47.

Jelāl was accustomed to go every year for about six weeks to a place near Qonya, called “_The Hot Waters_,” where there is a lake or marsh inhabited by a large colony of frogs.

A religious musical festival was arranged one day near the lake, and Jelāl delivered a discourse. The frogs were vociferous, and made his words inaudible. He therefore addressed himself to them, with a loud shout, saying: “What is all this noise about? Either do you pronounce a discourse, or allow me to speak.” Complete silence immediately ensued; nor was a frog ever once heard to croak again, so long as Jelāl remained there.

Before leaving, he went to the marsh, and gave them his permission to croak again now as much as they pleased. The chorus instantly began. Numbers of people, who were witnesses of this miraculous power over the frogs, became believers in Jelāl, and professed themselves his disciples.

48.

A party of butchers had purchased a heifer, and were leading her away to be slaughtered, when she broke loose from them, and ran away, a crowd following and shouting after her, so that she became furious, and none could pass near her.

By chance Jelāl met her, his followers being at some distance behind. On beholding him, the heifer became calm and quiet, came gently towards him, and then stood still, as though communing with him mutely, heart to heart, as is the wont with saints; and as though pleading for her life. Jelāl patted and caressed her.

The butchers now came up. Jelāl begged of them the animal’s life, as having placed herself under his protection. They gave their consent, and let her go free.

Jelāl’s disciples now joined the party, and he improved the occasion by the following remarks:—“If a brute beast, on being led away to slaughter, break loose and take refuge with me, so that God grants it immunity for my sake, how much more so would the case be, when a human being turns unto God with all his heart and soul, devoutly seeking Him. God will certainly save such a man from the tormenting demons of hell-fire, and lead him to heaven, there to dwell eternally.”

Those words caused such joy and gladness among the disciples that a musical festival, with dancing, at once commenced, and was carried on into the night. Alms and clothing were distributed to the poor singers of the chorus.

It is related that the heifer was never seen again in the meadows of Qonya.

49.

A meeting was held at the Perwāna’s palace, each guest bringing his own waxlight of about four or five pounds’ weight. Jelāl came to the assembly with a small wax-taper.

The grandees smiled at the taper. Jelāl, however, told them that their imposing candles depended on his taper for their light. Their looks expressed their incredulity at this. Jelāl, therefore, blew out his taper, and all the candles were at once extinguished; the company being left in darkness.

After a short interval, Jelāl fetched a sigh. His taper took fire therefrom, and the candles all burnt brightly as before. Numerous were the conversions resulting from this miraculous display.

50.

One day, the poet-laureate, Qāni’ī, came to visit Jelāl at his college. He was the very Khāqānī[16] of the age, and was accompanied by a crowd of noble admirers.

After much conversation, Qāni’ī remarked that he did not like the writings of the poet Sanā’ī,[17] and Jelāl inquired the reason. The poet-laureate replied: “Sanā’ī was not a Muslim.” Again Jelāl asked why he had formed that opinion; and Qāni’ī replied: “He has quoted passages from the Qur’ān in his poetry, and has even used them as his rhymes.”

Jelāl hereupon rebuked him most severely, as follows:—

“Do hold thy peace. What sort of a Muslim art thou? Could a Muslim perceive the grandeur of that poet, his hair would stand on end, and his turban would fall from his head. That Muslim, and thousands such as he,--such as thee,--out of this lower world, and out of the land of spirits, would become real Muslims. His poetry, which is an exposition of the mysteries of the Qur’ān, is so beautifully embellished, that one may apply to it the adage: ‘We have drawn from the ocean, and we have poured out again into the ocean.’ Thou hast not understood his philosophy; thou hast not studied it; for thou art a Qāni’ī (Follower of one who is satisfied). The vicars of God have a technology, of which the rhetoricians have no knowledge. Hence these truths appear to be imperfect, because men of crude minds are prevented from comprehending them. Though thou hast no part in the lot of the recondite mysteries of the saints, it does not thence follow that thou shouldest deny their position, and so place thyself in a position where destruction may be brought down upon thee. On the contrary, shouldest thou fix thy faith upon them, and act with true sincerity, thou shalt find in the day of judgment no heavy burden on thy shoulders. In lieu thereof, a burden-bearer will be present at thy side,--a refuge, who will prove thy most earnest intercessor.”

Struck with these words, the poet-laureate arose, uncovered, begged forgiveness, confessed contrition for his disrespect, and became one of Jelāl’s disciples.

51.

A disciple of Husāmu-’d-Dīn wished to make a vow never to do an act not expressly authorised by the Canon Law of Islām. For the purpose of administering the oath to him, instead of the Qur’ān, a copy of the Ilāhī-nāma (Divine Hymns) of the philosopher Sanā’ī was placed on a lectern, covered over with a cloth, and tendered as “the Book” on which he was to swear.

Just then, Jelāl came into the room, and asked what was going on. Husām replied: “One of my disciples is going to make a vow against backsliding. We shrank from swearing him on the Qur’ān, and have therefore prepared a copy of the Ilāhī-nāma for the occasion.”

Jelāl observed: “Indeed! Why, the Ilāhī-nāma would draw down on a forswearer a more severe chastisement than the Qur’ān itself. The Word of God is but milk, of which the Ilāhī-nāma is the cream and the butter!”

52.

When Adam was created, God commanded Gabriel to take the three most precious pearls of the divine treasury, and offer them in a golden salver to Adam, to choose for himself one of the three.

The three pearls were: _wisdom_, _faith_, and _modesty_.

Adam chose the pearl of _wisdom_.

Gabriel then proceeded to remove the salver with the remaining two pearls, in order to replace them in the divine treasury. With all his mighty power, he found he could not lift the salver.

The two pearls said to him: “We will not separate from our beloved wisdom. We could not be happy and quiet away from it. From all eternity, we three have been the three compeers of God’s glory, the pearls of His power. We cannot be separated.”

A voice was now heard to proceed from the divine presence, saying: “Gabriel! leave them, and come away.”

From that time, wisdom has taken its seat on the summit of the brain of Adam; faith took up its abode in his heart; modesty established itself in his countenance. Those three pearls have remained as the heirlooms of the chosen children of Adam. For, whoever, of all his descendants, is not embellished and enriched with those three jewels, is lacking of the sentiment and lustre of his divine origin.

So runs the narrative reported by Husām, Jelāl’s successor, as having been imparted to him by the latter.

53.

A certain flute-player named Hamza, much beloved by Jelāl, happened to die. Jelāl sent some of his disciples to array the defunct in his grave-clothes. He himself followed them to the house of the deceased.

On entering the room, Jelāl addresses the dead body: “My dear friend Hamza, arise!” Instantly, the deceased arose, saying: “Lo, here I am!” He then took his flute, and for three whole days and nights a religious festival was kept up in his house.

Above a hundred Roman misbelievers were thereby converted to the faith of Islām. When Jelāl left the house, life departed from the corpse also.

54.

Among the disciples there was a hunchback, a devout man, and a player on the tambourine, whom Jelāl loved.

On the occasion of a festival, this poor man beat his tambourine and shouted in ecstasy to an unusual degree. Jelāl was also greatly moved in the spirit with the holy dance.

Approaching the hunchback, he said to him: “Why erectest thou not thyself like the rest?” The infirmity of the hunch was pleaded. Jelāl then patted him on the back, and stroked him down. The poor man immediately arose, erect and graceful as a cypress.

When he went home, his wife refused him admittance, denying that he was her husband. His companions came, and bare witness to her of what had happened. Then she was convinced, let him in, and the couple lived together for many years afterwards.

55.

It was once remarked to Jelāl, with respect to the burial service for the dead, that, from the earliest times, it had been usual for certain prayers and Qur’ānic recitations to be said at the grave and round the corpse; but, that people could not understand why he had introduced into the ceremony the practice of singing hymns during the procession towards the place of burial, which canonists had pronounced to be a mischievous innovation.

Jelāl replied: “The ordinary reciters, by their services, bear witness that the deceased lived a Muslim. My singers, however, testify that he was a Muslim, a believer and a lover of God.”

He added also: “Besides that; when the human spirit, after years of imprisonment in the cage and dungeon of the body, is at length set free, and wings its flight to the source whence it came, is not this an occasion for rejoicings, thanks, and dancings? The soul, in ecstasy, soars to the presence of the Eternal; and stirs up others to make proof of courage and self-sacrifice. If a prisoner be released from a dungeon and be clothed with honour, who would doubt that rejoicings are proper? So, too, the death of a saint is an exactly parallel case.”

56.

One of Jelāl’s chief disciples related that, when he first began to study under that teacher, a company of pilgrims from Mekka came to Qonya, and among them was a very handsome young man of this latter city, son to one of the chief professors there.

This young man brought rich presents to Jelāl, and gifts for the disciples, relating to the latter the following adventure:—

“We were travelling in the desert of Arabia, and I chanced to fall asleep. The caravan went on without me. When I awoke, I found myself alone in the trackless sands. I knew not which way to turn. I wept and lamented for a considerable time, took a direction at hazard, and walked until I was thoroughly exhausted.

“To my surprise and joy I espied a large tent at a distance, with a great smoke rising by it. I made for the tent, and there encountered a most formidable-looking personage, to whom I related my misadventure. He bid me welcome, asked me in, and invited me to rest myself. Within the tent I observed a large kettle, full of fresh-cooked sweetmeat of the finest kind, and a plentiful supply of cool clear water.

“My wonder was great. I asked my host what these preparations might mean, and he answered: ‘I am a disciple of the great Jelālu-’d-Dīn of Qonya, son of Bahā’u-’d-Dīn of Balkh. He is used to pass by here every day. I have therefore pitched this tent for him, and I prepare this food. Perchance, he may honour and bless me with his presence, partaking of hospitality here.’

“As he yet spake, in walked Jelāl. We saluted; and he was begged to partake of the food. He took a little morsel, no larger than a filbert, giving me some also. I fell at his feet, and told him I was from Qonya on pilgrimage, and had missed the caravan by falling asleep. ‘Well,’ answered he, ‘as we are fellow-townsmen, be of good cheer.’ He then bade me close my eyes. I did so; and on opening them again I found myself in the midst of my companions of the caravan. I am now come here, on my return home in safety, to offer my thanks for that miraculous kindness, and to profess myself a disciple of the holy man.”

57.

A man of great learning came once to visit Jelāl. By way of a test, he asked Jelāl two questions: “Is it correct to speak of God as ‘_a living soul_?’ since God hath said (Qur’ān iii. 182): ‘Every living soul shall taste death!’” and: “If one ought not to call God ‘a living soul,’ what did Jesus mean when he said (Qur’ān v. 116): ‛Thou knowest what is in my soul, but I know not what is in Thy soul’?” The second question was: “Can God properly be called ‘a thing’? If He can be so called, what is the signification of His word (Qur’ān xxviii. 88): ‘Every thing shall perish, save His cause’?”

Jelāl immediately replied: “‘But I know not what is in Thy soul’ means _in Thy knowledge_, _in Thy absentness_, or, as we seers say, _in Thy secrecy_. Thus the passage would be paraphrased: _Thou knowest what is in my secrecy; but I know not what is in the secret of Thy secrecy_; or, as ‘_the people of heart_’ would put it: _Thou knowest what issues from me in the world; but I know not the secret of what issues from Thee in the world to come._ It is quite proper to speak of God as ‘a thing;’ for He hath said (Qur’ān vi. 19): ‘What thing is greatest in testimony? Say thou: “God;“’ _i.e._, God is the greatest thing in testimony; ‘God will be a witness between me and you in the day of the resurrection.’ The signification of the passage ‘Every thing shall perish’ is: _every created thing shall perish_; not the Creator, _i.e._, ‘save He.’ The thing excepted from the general category is ‘He.’ But God knows best.”

The man of learning instantly professed himself a disciple, and composed a panegyric on Jelāl.

58.

The legend goes that Jelāl made a practice of seeing the new moon of the Arabian new year, and always uttered the following prayer on seeing it:—“O our Lord God! Thou art the Past-eternal One, the Future-eternal One, the Ancient One! This is a new year. I beg of Thee therein steadfastness to withstand the lapidated Satan,[18] and assistance against the rebellious spirit (within me); also, occupation in what will approximate me to Thee, and an avoidance of what might elongate me from Thee. O God! O the All-merciful One, the All-compassionate One! Through Thy mercy, O Most-compassionate of the merciful ones! O thou Lord of majesty and of honour!”

59.

It is related that Jelāl cured one of his disciples of an intermittent fever by writing down the following invocation on paper, washing off the ink in water, and giving this to the patient to drink; who was, under God’s favour, immediately relieved from the malady:—“O Mother of the sleek one (a nickname of the tertian ague)! If thou hast believed in God, the Most Great, make not the head to ache; vitiate not the swallow; eat not the flesh; drink not the blood; and depart thou out of So-and-So, betaking thyself to some one who attributes to God partners of other false gods. And I bear witness that there is not any god save God, and I testify that Muhammed is His servant and apostle.”

60.

One day Jelāl paid a visit to a great Sheykh. He was received with the utmost respect, and seated with the Sheykh on the same carpet, both together falling into ecstatic heart-communion with the world of spirits.

A certain dervish was there present also, who had repeatedly performed the pilgrimage at Mekka. The dervish addressed Jelāl, and inquired: “What is poverty?” Jelāl returned no answer; and the question was thrice repeated.

When Jelāl took his leave, the great Sheykh accompanied him to the street door. On his return to his room, he reprimanded the dervish severely for his insolent intrusion on the guest; “especially,” said the Sheykh, “as he fully answered thy question the first time thou puttest it.” The dervish, surprised, asked what the answer had been. “The poor man,” said the Sheykh, “when he hath known God, hath his tongue tied. That is being a real dervish; who, when in the presence of saints, speaks not; neither with the tongue, nor with the heart. This is what is signified by (Qur’ān xlvi. 28): ‘Hold ye your peace.’ But now, prepare thyself for thy end. Thou art struck by a shaft from heaven.”

Three days later, the dervish was met by a gang of reprobates, who attacked and killed him, carrying off every thing he had about him. _Salve fac nos, Domine!_

61.

In the days of Jelāl there was in Qonya a lady-saint, named Fakhru-’n-Nisā (the Glory of Women). She was known to all the holy men of the time, who were all aware of her sanctity. Miracles were wrought by her in countless numbers. She constantly attended the meetings at Jelāl’s home, and he occasionally paid her a visit at her house.

Her friends suggested to her that she ought to go and perform the pilgrimage at Mekka; but she would not undertake this duty unless she should first consult with Jelāl about it. Accordingly she went to see him. As she entered his presence, before she spoke, he called out to her: “Oh, most happy idea! May thy journey be prosperous! God willing, we shall be together.” She bowed, but said nothing. The disciples present were puzzled.

That night she remained a guest at Jelāl’s house, conversing with him till past midnight. At that hour he went up to the terraced roof of the college to perform the divine service of the vigil. When he had completed that service of worship, he fell into an ecstasy, shouting and exclaiming. Then he lifted the skylight of the room below, where the lady was, and invited her to come up on to the roof also.

When she was come, he told her to look upwards, saying that her wish was come to pass. On looking up, she beheld the Cubical House of Mekka in the air, circumambulating round Jelāl’s head above him, and spinning round like a dervish in his waltz, plainly and distinctly, so as to leave no room for doubt or uncertainty. She screamed out with astonishment and fright, swooning away. On coming to herself, she felt the conviction that the journey to Mekka was not one for her to perform; so she totally relinquished the idea.

62.

Jelāl was once standing at the edge of the moat round the city of Qonya, when a company of students, undergraduates of one of the colleges in the neighbourhood, seeing him, agreed to try him by asking the question: “Of what colour was the dog of the Seven Sleepers?”

Jelāl’s immediate, unpremeditated answer was: “Yellow. A lover is always yellow (sallow); as am I; and that dog was a lover.” The students bowed to him, and all became disciples.

63.

The Superior of the monks of the monastery of Plato was an old man, and was held in the very highest esteem for his learning in all Constantinople and Firengistān, in Sīs, Jānik, and other lands. (Sīs was capital of the kingdom of Lower Armenia, and Jānik was the secondary “Roman Empire” of Trebizond.) From all those lands did disciples flock to learn wisdom from him.

This Superior related the following anecdote:—

“One day, Jelāl came to the monastery of Plato, situated at the foot of a hill, with a cavern therein, from whence issued a stream of cold water. Jelāl entered the cavern, and proceeded to its farther extremity. The Superior remained at the cavern’s mouth, watching for what might happen. For seven whole days and nights Jelāl remained there, seated in the midst of the cold water. At the end of that period he came forth from the cavern, and walked away, singing a hymn. Not the slightest change was apparent in his features, nor in his eyes.”

The Superior made oath that all he had read about the person and qualities of the Messiah, as also in the books of Abraham and Moses, were found in the person of Jelāl, as well as the grandeur and mien of the prophets, as set forth in books of ancient history, and far more besides.

64.

Shemsu-’d-Dīn of Tebrīz once asserted, in Jelāl’s college, that whosoever wished to see again the prophets, had only to look on Jelāl, who possessed all their qualifications; more especially of those to whom revelations were made, whether by angelic communications, or whether in visions; the chief of such qualities being serenity of mind with perfect inward confidence and consciousness of being one of God’s elect. “Now,” said he, “to possess Jelāl’s approbation is heaven; while hell is to incur his displeasure. Jelāl is the key of heaven. Go then, and look upon Jelāl, if thou wish to comprehend the signification of that saying ‘_the learned are the heirs of the prophets_,’ together with something beyond that, which I will not here specify. He has more learning in every science than any one else upon earth. He explains better, with greater tact and taste, as also more exhaustively, than all others. Were I, with my mere intellect, to study for a hundred years, I could not acquire a tenth part of what he knows. He has intuitively thought out that knowledge, without being aware of it, in my presence, by his own subtlety.”

65.

One of the greatest teachers of Qonya was one day giving a lecture on a terraced roof, when suddenly he heard the sound of a lute. He exclaimed: “These lutes are an innovation on the prophetic usages. They must be interdicted.”

Forthwith, the form of Jelāl appeared before him, and answered: “That must not be.” On this the teacher fainted away.

When he regained his consciousness, he sought to make his peace with Jelāl, by sending an apology and a recantation to him, through the medium of Jelāl’s son, Sultan Veled; but Jelāl would not accept them. He answered: “It would be easier to convert seventy Roman bishops to Islām, than to clear away from the mind of that teacher the stains of hate, and so set him on the right road. His soul is as foul as the paper on which children practise their writing exercises.”

At length, however, he allowed himself to be appeased by his son; so that he permitted the teacher, with his pupils, to constitute themselves his disciples.

66.

Jelāl one day addressed his son, saying: “Bahā’u-’d-Dīn, dost thou wish to love thy enemy, and to be loved of him? Speak well of him, and extol his virtues. He will then be thy friend; and for this reason: In like manner as there is a road open between the heart and the tongue, so also is there a way from the tongue to the heart. The love of God may be found by hearing His _comely names_. God hath said: ‘O My servants, take ye heed that ye often commemorate Me, so that sincerity may abound.’ The more that sincerity prevails, the more do the rays of the light of truth shine into the heart. The hotter a baker’s oven is, the more bread will it bake; if cool, it will not bake at all.”

67.