Chapter III (3)

Sultan Veled, Bahā’u-’d-Dīn, is said to have recounted of his father, Jelāl, this saying: “A true disciple is he who holds his teacher to be superior to all others. So much so, that, for instance, a disciple of Bāyezīd of Bestām was once asked whether Bāyezīd or Abū-Hanīfa was the greater, and he replied that his teacher, Bāyezīd, was the greater. ‘Then,’ said the questioner, ‘is Bāyezīd the greater, or is Abū-Bekr?’ ‘My teacher is the greater.’ ‘Bāyezīd or Muhammed?’ ‘Bāyezīd.’ ‘Bāyezīd or God?’ ‘I only know my teacher; I know no other than him; and I know that he is greater than all others.’

“Another was asked the last question, and his reply was: ‘There is no difference between the two.’ A third was asked it also, and he replied: ‘It would require a greater one than either of the two to determine which of them is the greater.’

“As God does not walk in this world of sensible objects, the prophets are the substitutes of God. No, no! I am wrong! For if thou suppose that those substitutes and their principal are two different things, thou hast judged erroneously, not rightly.”

68.

Sultan Veled is reported to have said: “My grandfather, the Great Master, used to recommend to his disciples to honour his son Jelāl exceedingly, as one of noble extraction and exalted pedigree, of an eternal descent in the past; since the mother of his mother was the daughter of the Imām Sarakhsī, a descendant from Huseyn, son of ‘Alī, and grandson of the Prophet.”

69.

Sultan Veled is also reported to have said: “My father told his disciples that I was seven, and my brother ‘Alā’u-’d-Dīn eight years old, when the Dizdār Bedru-’d-Dīn Guhertāsh had us circumcised at Qara-Hisār.” (See chap. i., No. 12.)

He is also reported to have declared: “When the Sultan invited my grandfather to Qonya, a year passed, and then the Emīr Mūsa invited my grandfather to Larenda, and took my father to be his own son-in-law; so that I was born in that town.” (See chap. i., No. 2. The account now given here is at variance with that mentioned in the preface, which makes ‘Alā’u-’d-Dīn and Bahā’u-’d-Dīn to have been born at Larenda before Jelāl and his father went to Qonya. Moreover, their mother, Gevher Khātūn, is there said to have been the daughter of Lala Sherefu-’d-Dīn of Samarqand. Is that an alias of the Emīr Mūsa of the present anecdote; or did Jelāl marry two ladies of Larenda at different times? There are several difficulties here. Sultan Veled puts only one year as the difference of age between himself and his elder brother. If the daughter of the Emīr Mūsa was the mother of both these brothers, Jelāl’s stay at Larenda must have been of about two years at least. If they were by different mothers, and born, the one before, the other after Bahā Veled’s settling at Qonya, there must have been a greater difference in their ages. Jelāl’s age at his marriage is also variously stated. These discrepancies show that the anecdotes were collected from traditions of various sources, long after the events recorded.)

70.

Sultan Veled is said to have related that one day, two Turks, law-students, brought to Jelāl an offering of a few lentils, excusing the paucity of the gift, as the result of their poverty. Jelāl thereupon narrated the following anecdote:—

“God revealed to Mustafa (Muhammed) that the believers should contribute of their possessions, for the service of God, as much as they could spare. Some brought the half, some the third part; Abū-Bekr brought the whole of what he possessed. Thus a large treasure was collected, of money, beasts, and arms, for God’s service.

“A poor woman, too, brought three dates and a cake of bread--all she had on earth.

“The disciples smiled. Mustafa perceived their action, and said that God had showed him a vision, which he desired to tell to them. They all begged he would favour them with the recital. He therefore thus proceeded:

“‘God hath removed the veils from before me. And lo, I saw that the angels had placed in one scale of a balance the whole of your very liberal offerings together, and in the other scale the three dates and one cake of this poor woman. The latter scale was preponderant; its contents outweighed all the rest.’

“The disciples bowed, thanked the prophet, and inquired the hidden explanation of this mystery. He answered: ‘This poor woman has parted with her all, whereas my disciples have kept back a part of their possessions. Proverbs say: “The generous one is generous out of what he possesses,” and, “A little, in the eyes of the Most Great, is much.” You put into the earth a single date-stone, intrusting it to God. He makes that stone become a tree, which yields fruits without number; because the stone was confided to Him. Therefore, let your alms be given to the poor, and to God’s servants, as a trust committed unto God. For it is said: “Alms fall first into God’s hand, before reaching the hands of the poor;” and again: “Alms for the poor and the destitute.”’

“The poor of Mekka and Medīna, refugees and auxiliaries, shouted their admiration as they heard these words.”

When the two Turkish students heard this anecdote related, they professed themselves disciples of Jelāl.

71.

When Jelāl was quite young, he was one day preaching on the subject of Moses and Elias (Qur’ān xviii. 59-81). One of his disciples noticed a stranger seated in a corner, paying great attention, and every now and then saying: “Good! Quite true! Quite correct! He might have been the third one with us two!” The disciple surmised that the stranger might be Elias. (Elias is believed by Muslims to be always visible somewhere, but that people know him not. Did they recognise him, they could obtain from him a knowledge of the secret of eternal life, which he possesses.) He therefore seized hold of the stranger’s skirt, and asked for his spiritual aid. “Oh,” said the stranger, “rather seek assistance from Jelāl, as we all do. Every occult saint of God is the loving and admiring friend of him.” So saying, he managed to disengage his skirt from the disciple’s hold, and instantly disappeared. The disciple went to pay his respects to Jelāl, who at once addressed him, saying: “Elias, and Moses, and the prophets, are all friends of mine.” The disciple understood the allusion, and became more and more devoted at heart to Jelāl than he even was before.

72.

It is related that when the burial service was about to be performed over the corpse of Jelāl, the precentor gave a shriek, and swooned away. After a while, he recovered, and then performed his office, weeping bitterly.

On being asked the cause of his emotion, he answered: “As I stood forward to perform my office, I perceived a row of the most noble of spiritual saints of the spiritual world, as being present, and as being engaged in reciting the prayers for the dead over the departed one. Those angels of heaven wore robes of blue (the mourning of some sects of Muslims), and wept.”

For forty days, that precentor and others daily visited Jelāl’s grave.

73.

At Damascus, when a young student, Jelāl was frequently seen by others to walk several arrow-flights’ distance in the air, tranquilly returning to the terraced roof on which they were standing.

Those fellow-pupils were among his earliest believers and disciples.

74.

A friend of Jelāl’s once took leave of him at Qonya, and went to Damascus. On his arrival there, he found Jelāl seated in a corner of his room. Asking for an explanation of this surprising phenomenon, Jelāl replied: “The men of God are like fishes in the ocean; they pop up into view on the surface here and there and everywhere, as they please.”

75.

Jelāl once met a Turk in Qonya, who was selling fox-skins in the market, and crying them: “Dilku! Dilku!” (Fox! Fox! in Turkish.)

Jelāl immediately began to parody his cry, calling out in Persian: “Dil kū! Dil kū!” (Heart, where art thou?) At the same time he broke out into one of his holy waltzes of ecstasy.

76.

In the time of Sultan Veled (A.D. 1284-1312), a young man, of the descendants of the Prophet, and son of the guardian of the holy tomb of Muhammed at Medīna, came to Qonya with a company of his fellow-descendants, belonging to that city. He was presented to Sultan Veled, and became his disciple.

He wore a most singular head-dress. One end of his turban hung down in front to below his navel; while the other end was formed into the _sheker-āvīz_[19] of the Mevlevī dervishes.

When they had become somewhat intimate, Sultan Veled asked him how it happened that he wore the _sheker-āvīz_ of the Mevlevis, when nobody else but those dervishes wear it, in imitation of their founder, Jelāl.

The young man explained that his family were descended from the Prophet. That the Prophet, on the night of his ascension to heaven, after seeing God and many mysteries, had returned a certain distance, and, as is well known, then went back to intercede with God for his people. He now perceived, on the pinnacle of God’s throne, the ideal portrait of a form, so beautiful, that he had not hitherto witnessed anything so charming among the angels and inhabitants of heaven.

After contemplating the lovely vision, in amazement, for some time, Muhammed was able to notice that the ideal form wore on its head a _sheker-āvīz_. He asked Gabriel what that ideal portrait might portend, which was so attractive in its beauty as to surpass all the wonders he had witnessed in all the nine heavens. “Is it the portrait of an angel, a prophet, or a saint?” Gabriel replied: “It is the portrait of a personage of the descendants of Abū-Bekr, who will appear in the latter days among the people of thy Church, and will fill the whole world with the effulgence of the knowledge of thy mysteries. To him will God vouchsafe a precedency, and a pen, and a breath, such that kings and princes will profess themselves his disciples; and he will be a most pure upholder of thy religion, being, in every respect, the counterpart of thyself in aspect and in morals. His name will be Muhammed, as is thine; and his surname will be Jelālu-’d-Dīn. His words will explain thy sayings, and will expound thy Qur’ān.”

On his return home, the Prophet adopted the form of turban he had seen worn in that ideal portrait, making one end hang down a span in front, and binding the other end behind into a _sheker-āvīz_.

“From that day to this,” said the young man, “the fathers of our family have followed that fashion, so adopted by the Prophet; and we continue to do so too.”

It is said that when Abū-Bekr heard this narrative from the Prophet, respecting his great descendant that was thus foretold, he gave the whole of his possessions to the Prophet, to be expended in God’s cause.

When Muhammed died, Abū-Bekr wept long and bitterly. But the Prophet appeared to him, and consoled him by saying: “One day I will reappear among my people from out of the collar of one of thy race.”

The young man continued: “From that time onwards, our family were on the outlook for the manifestation of the holy personage whose ideal portrait the Prophet so saw. Thank God that I have witnessed the realisation of their hope.”

The Qonya pilgrims published this communication to all the disciples there present.

77.

In the days of Sultan Veled, a great merchant came to Qonya to visit the tomb of Jelāl. He offered many rich gifts to Sultan Veled, making presents also to the disciples. He related to them many anecdotes of adventures encountered by him in his travels, such as the following:—

He once went to Kīsh and Bahreyn in quest of pearls and rubies. “An inhabitant told me,” said he, “that I should find some in the hands of a certain fisherman. I went to him, and the fisher showed me a chest, containing pearls of inestimable value, such as impressed me with astonishment. I asked him how he had collected them; and he told me, calling God to witness, that he, his three brothers, and his father, were formerly poor fishermen. One day they hooked something that gave them immense trouble before they could bring it to land.

“They now found they had captured a ‘Lord of the Waters,’ also named a ‘Marvel of the Sea,’ as is commonly known.[20]

“We wondered,” said he, “what we could do with the beast. We wept for the ill fortune that had brought us such a disappointment. The creature looked at us as we spoke. Suddenly my father cried out: ‘I have it! I will put him on a cart, and exhibit him all over the country at a penny a head!’

“Through the miraculous power of Him who has endowed man with speech and His creatures with life, the beast broke forth and exclaimed: ‘Make me not a staring-block in the world, and I will do anything you may wish of me, so as to suffice for you and your children for many years to come!’

“Our father answered: ‘How should I set thee free, when thou art so strange and unparalleled a creature?’ The beast replied: ‘I will make an oath.’ Our father said: ‘Speak! Let us hear thy oath.’

“The beast now said: ‘We are of the faith of Muhammed, and disciples of the holy Mevlānā. By the soul of the Mevlānā, the holy Jelālu-’d-Dīn of Rome, I will go, and I will return.’

“Our father fainted away with astonishment. I, therefore, now asked: ‘How hast thou any knowledge of him?’ The beast replied: ‘We are a nation of twelve thousand individuals. We have believed in him, and he frequently showed himself to us at the bottom of the sea, lecturing and sermonising to us on the divine mysteries of the truth. He brought us to a knowledge of the true faith; so that we continually practise what he taught us.’

“Our father instantly told him he was free. He went back, therefore, into the water, and was lost to sight. But two days later he returned, and brought with him innumerable pearls and precious stones. He asked whether he had been true and faithful to his promise; and on our expressing our satisfaction on that score, he took an affectionate farewell from us.

“We were thus raised from the depths of poverty to the pinnacle of wealth. We became merchant princes, and our slaves are the great merchants of the earth. Every dealer who wishes for pearls and rubies comes to us. We are known as the _Sons of the Fisherman_. Our father went to Qonya, and paid his respects to the Mevlānā.

“Through his narrative, I formed the design, now carried into effect, to visit the son of that great saint.”

This wonderful narrative has been handed down ever since in the mouths of the merchants of Qonya.

78.

(The following appears to be an account of one of the first visits of the Perwāna to Jelāl, to whom he subsequently became so devotedly attached.)

One of the most eminent among the men of learning in Qonya was visited by the Perwāna. The learned man held forth eloquently on several exalted themes, and then informed the Perwāna that he had, the night before, been taken up into the highest heaven, and had there learnt many mysteries. He said that he there saw Jelāl hold a higher station of proximity to God than any other saint, as he stood on a level with God’s throne.

A day or two later, the Perwāna, filled with reverence for Jelāl’s unequalled sanctity, went and paid him a visit with the utmost deference. Before the Perwāna could broach any subject of conversation, Jelāl said to him: “Mu’īnu-’d-Dīn! the vision related to you by your learned friend is quite true in the main facts, though I never saw him there at any time.” He then extemporised the following ode:—

“Fellow-visitant wert thou? Then say what thou sawest there last
night.
’Twixt my heart and inspiring loved darling what passed in thy sight?
And if thou, in thy dream, with thy eyes sawest my beautiful love,
Tell us then, in the earrings he wore there what jewels were wove.
If with me thou be fellow in coat, as in thoughts and in creeds,
Let us hear the details of that ragged old mendicant’s weeds.
If thou poverty’s son be, and unspoken mysteries hear,
Thou’lt recount all the words that were thought by my silent compeer,
If thou’st learnt whence the source of mankind and of souls did
proceed.
Since the source was but one, what then means all this search, all
this greed?
And if thou hast not seen any place of his form and face free,
Say then what, in the thoughts of his lovers, that face and form be.
And if I head the lists of those lovers, as thou seemest to say,
Tell us, What are those lists? What his messages, words, answers?
Pray!”

A musical service was then got up, this ode being chanted during its performance. The Perwāna was so utterly bewildered by this incident, that he could say nothing. He therefore rose, bowed, and took his leave.

79.

One day, it is said, the Prophet (Muhammed) recited to ‘Alī in private the secrets and mysteries of the “Brethren of Sincerity” (who appear to be the “Freemasons” of the Muslim dervish world), enjoining on him not to divulge them to any of the uninitiated, so that they should not be betrayed; also, to yield obedience to the rule of implicit submission.

For forty days, ‘Alī kept the secret in his own sole breast, and bore therewith until he was sick at heart. Like a pregnant woman, his abdomen became swollen with the burden, so that he could no longer breathe freely.

He therefore fled to the open wilderness, and there chanced upon a well. He stooped, reached his head as far down into the well as he was able; and then, one by one, he confided those mysteries to the bowels of the earth. From the excess of his excitement, his mouth filled with froth and foam. These he spat out into the water of the well, until he had freed himself of the whole, and he felt relieved.

After a certain number of days, a single reed was observed to be growing in that well. It waxed and shot up, until at length a youth, whose heart was miraculously enlightened on the point, became aware of this growing plant, cut it down, drilled holes in it, and began to play upon it airs, similar to those performed by the dervish lovers of God, as he pastured his sheep in the neighbourhood.

By degrees, the various tribes of Arabs of the desert heard of this flute-playing of the shepherd, and its fame spread abroad. The camels and the sheep of the whole region would gather around him as he piped, ceasing to pasture that they might listen. From all directions, north and south, the nomads flocked to hear his strains, going into ecstasies with delight, weeping for joy and pleasure, breaking forth in transports of gratification.

The rumour at length reached the ears of the Prophet, who gave orders for the piper to be brought before him. When he began to play in the sacred presence, all the holy disciples of God’s messenger were moved to tears and transports, bursting forth with shouts and exclamations of pure bliss, and losing all consciousness. The Prophet declared that the notes of the shepherd’s flute were the interpretation of the holy mysteries he had confided in private to ‘Alī’s charge.[21]

Thus it is that, until a man acquire the sincere devotion of the linnet-voiced flute-reed, he cannot hear the mysteries of the Brethren of Sincerity in its dulcet notes, or realise the delights thereof; for “faith is altogether a yearning of the heart, and a gratification of the spiritual sense.”

“To whom, alas, the pangs my love for thee excites, to breathe?
My sighs, like ‘Alī, I’ll to some deep well’s recess bequeathe.
Perchance some reeds may spring therefrom, its brink to overgrow;
Those reeds may moaning flutes become, and so betray my woe.
Who hear will say: ‘Be silent, flutes! We’re not love’s confidants;
To that sweet tyrant make excuse for us and for those plants!’”

80.

One of Jelāl’s disciples possessed a slave girl of Roman origin, whom Jelāl had named Siddīqa (after Muhammed’s virgin wife ‘Ā’isha). Occasionally she had miraculous visions. She used to see aureolas of heavenly light, green, red, and _black_. Various of the angels used to visit her, and souls of the departed.

Her master was vexed at her being so favoured above himself. Once he was visited by Jelāl, and expressed his chagrin to him on the subject. Jelāl replied: “True! There is a heavenly light resides in the pupils of some eyes. These occasionally mislead a few with visions of beauteous form, with which they fall in love. Others they preserve in chastity, and lead them to their adored Maker. Others, again, they may lead to take delight in exterior objects, so as to cast their eyes on every pretty face they see, while the wife at home is curtained away from her husband. Thus, whenever God opens a way to any one, appearing to him, and showing him glimpses of the hidden world, he is apt to become entranced therewith, and to lose all power of further progress, saying to himself: ‘How greatly in favour am I!’ Others, in short, use every endeavour; but nothing is vouchsafed to them in visions, until they be favoured with a special sight of God Himself, and they be admitted to a near approach unto Him.”

The girl’s master was comforted, and bowed to his teacher, whose disciples then broke out into a holy service of psalmody and dancing.

81.

There was once a wise monk in the monastery of Plato, who was on very friendly terms with Jelāl’s grandson ‘Ārif. He was very aged, and used to be visited by the dervishes of his neighbourhood, to whom he was very polite, and towards whom he exhibited great confidence; so much so that, one day, some of them inquired of him how he had found Jelāl, and what he had thought of him.

The monk replied to them: “What do you know of him, as to who or what he was? I have seen signs and miracles without number worked by him. I became his devoted servant. I had read in the gospel and in the prophets the lives and the works of the saints of old, and I saw that he compassed them all. I therefore had faith in the truth of his reality.

“One day he came here, conferring on me the honour of a visit. For forty days he shut himself up in ecstatic seclusion. When at length he came forth from his privacy, I laid hold of his skirt, and said to him: ‘God, in His holy scripture hath said (Qur’ān xix. 72): “And there is none of you but shall come to it (hell-fire).” Now, since it is incontestable that all shall come to the fire of hell, what preference is there in Islām over our faith?’

“For a little time he made no answer. At length, however, he made a sign towards the city, and went away in that direction. I followed after him leisurely. Near the city, we came to a bakehouse, the oven of which was being heated. He now took my black cassock, wrapped it in his own cloak, and threw the bundle into the oven. He then withdrew for a time into a corner, sunk in meditation.

“I saw a great smoke come out of the oven, such that no one had the power of utterance. After that, he said to me: ‘Behold!’ The baker withdrew the bundle from the oven, and assisted the saint to put on his cloak, which had become exquisitely clean; whereas my cassock was, as it were, branded and scorched, so as to fall in pieces. Then he said: ‘Thus shall we enter therein, and thus shall you enter!’

“That selfsame moment I made my bow to him and became his disciple.”

82.

The reason why the Mesnevī was written is related to have been the following:—

Husāmu-’d-Dīn learnt that several of the followers of Jelāl were fond of studying the Ilāhī-nāma of Sanā’ī, the Hakīm, and the Mantiqu-’t-Tayr of ‘Attār, as also the Nasīb-nāma of the latter.

He therefore sought and found an opportunity to propose that Jelāl should indite something in the style of the Ilāhī-nāma, but in the metre of the Mantiqu-’t-Tayr; saying that the circle of friends would then willingly give up all other poetry, and study that alone.

Jelāl immediately produced a portion of the Mesnevī, saying that God had forewarned him of the wishes of the brethren, in consequence of which he had already begun to compose the work. That fragment consisted of the first eighteen couplets of the introductory verses:—

“From reed-flute hear what tale it tells,
What plaint it makes of absence’ ills,” &c.

It is of the metre _Remel_, hexameter contracted:

- ‿ - - │ - ‿ - - │ - ‿ - ║ - ‿ - - │ - ‿ - - │ - ‿ - ║

Jelāl frequently mentions Husām as the cause of the work’s having been begun and continued. In the fourth book he addresses him in the opening couplet:—

“Of Truth, the light; of Faith, the sword; Husāmu-’d-Dīn aye be;
Above the lunar orb has clomb my Mesnevī, through thee.”

And again the sixth book has for its opening verse the following apostrophe:—

“O thou, Husāmu-’d-Dīn, my heart’s true life! Zeal, for thy sake,
I feel springs up in me sixth book hereby to undertake.”

Often they spent whole nights at the task, Jelāl inditing, and Husām writing down his inspirations, chanting it aloud, as he wrote it, with his beautiful voice. Just as the first book was completed, Husām’s wife died, and an interval ensued.

Two years thus passed without progress. Husām married again; and in that year, A.H. 662 (A.D. 1263), the second book was commenced. No other interval occurred until the work was brought to a conclusion. The third couplet of the second book mentions Husām in these terms--

“When thou, of Truth the light, Husāmu-’d-Dīn, thy courser’s rein
Didst turn, descending earthward from the zenith’s starry plain.”

The third, fifth, and seventh books have similar addresses to Husām in their opening verses. His name is also mentioned cursorily in the third tale of the first book.

83.

On the death of Jelāl, a party of zealots went in a body to the Perwāna, explaining to him that the new practices of music and dancing, introduced by Jelāl, were innovations altogether contrary to the canonical institutes, and begging him to use his utmost endeavours to suppress them.

The Perwāna called on the learned Mufti of Qonya, Sheykh Sadru-’d-Dīn, and consulted him on the subject. The Mufti’s answer was: “Do nothing of the kind. Listen not to such biased suggestions. There is an apostolical saying to this effect: ‘A laudable innovation, introduced by a perfect follower of the prophets, is of the same nature with the customary practices of the prophets themselves.’” The Perwāna resolved, therefore, to do nothing towards suppressing Jelāl’s institutions.

84.

A certain great man, who esteemed Jelāl, was nevertheless shocked that he should, with all his learning and piety, sanction the use of music and dancing.

He had occasion to visit Jelāl, who at once addressed him as follows:—“It is an axiom in the sacred canons that a Muslim, if hard pressed, and in danger of death, may eat of carrion and other forbidden food, so that the life of a man be not sacrificed. This rule is admitted and approved by all the authorities of the law. Now, we _men of God_ are exactly in that position of extreme danger to our lives; and from that danger there is no escape, save by song, by music, and by the dance. Otherwise, through the awful majesty of the divine manifestations, the bodies of the saints would melt away as wax, and disappear like snow under the beams of a July sun.”

The personage thus addressed was so struck with the earnestness of Jelāl’s manner, and the cogency of his reasoning, that he became convinced, and thenceforward was a defender and upholder of Jelāl’s institutions, so that these formed, as it were, the very nourishment of his heart. Many of the learned followed his example, and joined themselves to Jelāl’s followers and disciples.

85.

Kālūmān and ‘Aynu-’d-Devla were two Roman painters. They were unrivalled in their art of painting portraits and pictures. Both were disciples of Jelāl.

Kālūmān one day narrated that in Constantinople, on a certain tablet, the portraits of the Lady Meryem and of Jesus were painted, in such style as to be matchless. From all parts of the world artists came and tried their best; but none could produce the equal of those two portraits.

‘Aynu-’d-Devla undertook, therefore, to journey to Constantinople, and see this picture. He made himself an inmate of the great church of Constantinople for a whole year, and served the priests thereof in various ways.

One night, then, he spied his opportunity, took the tablet under his arm, and absconded with it.

On reaching Qonya, he paid his respects to Jelāl, who inquired of him where he had been. He narrated to Jelāl all that had occurred with the tablet, which he exhibited.

Jelāl found the picture exceedingly beautiful, and gazed on it long with the utmost pleasure. He then spake as follows:—

“These two beautiful portraits complain of you, saying that you are not a faithful admirer of theirs, but are an untrue lover.” The artist asked: “How?” Jelāl replied: “They say they are not supplied with food and rest. On the contrary, they are kept sleepless every night, and fasting every day. They complain: ‘Aynu-’d-Devla leaves us, sleeps himself all night, and takes his meals by day, never remaining with us to do as we do!’”

The artist remarked: “Food and sleep are to them impossibilities. Neither have they speech, with which to say anything. They are mere lifeless effigies.”

Jelāl now replied: “Thou art a living effigy. Thou hast acquired a knowledge of various arts. Thou art the handiwork of a limner whose hand has framed the universe, the human race, and all things on earth and in heaven. Is it right that thou forsake Him, and enamour thyself of an insignificant lifeless effigy? What profit is there in these portraits? What advantage can accrue to thee from them?”

Touched by these reproaches, the artist vowed repentance of his sin, and professed himself a Muslim.

86.

When the time of Jelāl’s death drew near, he cautioned his disciples to have no fear or anxiety on that account; “for,” said he, “as the spirit of Mansūr[22] appeared, a hundred and fifty years after his death, to the Sheykh Ferīdu-’d-Dīn ‘Attār, and became the Sheykh’s spiritual guide and teacher, so, too, do you always be with me, whatever may happen, and remember me, so that I may show myself to you, in whatever form that may be;--that I may always belong to you, and ever be shedding in your breasts the light of heavenly inspiration. I will simply remind you now that our dear Lord, Muhammed, the Apostle of God, said to his disciples: ‘My life is a blessing unto you, and my death will be a blessing unto you. In my life I have guided you, and after my death I will send blessings on you.’”

Jelāl’s friends shed tears all, and broke out into sighs and lamentations; but bowed their heads in reverence.

It is said that he gave directions to get ready his grave-clothes, and that his wife, Kirā Khātūn, began to wail, tearing her clothes, and exclaiming: “O thou light of the world, life of the human race; unto whom wilt thou commit us? Whither wilt thou go?”

He answered her: “Whither will I go? Verily, I shall not quit your circle.” She then asked: “Will there be another like unto thee, our Lord? Will another become manifest?” He replied: “If there be, he will be I.” After a while he added: “While in the body, I have two attachments; one, to you; the other, to the flesh. When, by the grace of the unique Spirit, I become disembodied,--when the world of unbodied spirits, unity, and singleness, shall appear, my attachment to the flesh will become attachment to you, and I shall then have but one sole attachment.”

87.

With his last breath Jelāl recommended to Husāmu-’d-Dīn to lay him in the upper part of his tomb, so that he might be the first to rise at the last day.

As he lay in his extreme sickness, there were earthquakes for seven days and nights, very severe, so that walls and houses were overthrown. On the seventh occasion, all his disciples were alarmed. He, however, calmly remarked: “Poor earth! it is eager for a fat morsel! It shall have one!”

He then gave his last instructions to his disciples, as follows:—“I recommend unto you the fear of God, in public and in private; abstemiousness in eating and in sleeping, as also in speaking; the avoidance of rebelliousness and of sin; constancy in fasting, continuous worship, and perpetual abstinence from fleshly lusts; long-suffering under the ill-treatment of all mankind; to shun the companionship of the light-minded and of the common herd; to associate with the righteous and with men of worth. For verily ‘_the best of mankind is he who benefiteth men_,’[23] and ‘_the best of speech is that which is short and to the purpose_.’”[24]

88.

The following is a prayer taught by Jelāl, on his deathbed, to one of his friends, to be used whenever affliction or care might weigh upon him:—

“O our Lord God, I breathe but for Thee, and I stretch forth my spirit towards Thee, that I may recite Thy doxologies abundantly, commemorating Thee frequently. O our Lord God, lay not on me an ailment that may make me forgetful to commemorate Thee, or lessen my yearning towards Thee, or cut off the delight I experience in reciting the litanies of Thy praise. Grant me not a health that may engender or increase in me presumptuous or thankless insolence. For Thy mercy’s sake, O Thou Most-Merciful of the compassionate. Amen.”

89.

A friend was seated by Jelāl’s pillow, and Jelāl leaned on that friend’s bosom. Suddenly a most handsome youth appeared at the door of the room, to the utmost astonishment of the friend.

Jelāl arose and advanced to receive the stranger. But the friend was quicker, and quietly asked his business. The stranger answered: “I am ‘Azrā’īl, the angel of departure and separation. I am come, by the divine command, to inquire what commission the Master may have to intrust to me.”

Blessed are the eyes that can perceive such sights!

The friend was near fainting at this answer. But he heard Jelāl call out: “Come in, come in, thou messenger of my King. Do that which thou art bidden; and, God willing, thou shalt find me one of the patient.”

He now told his attendants to bring a vessel of water, placed his two feet therein, and occasionally sprinkled a little on his breast and forehead, saying: “My beloved (God) has proffered me a cup of poison (bitterness). From his hand I drink that poison with delight.”

The singers and musicians now came in, and executed a hymn, while the whole company of friends wept, and sobbed loudly.

Jelāl observed: “It is as my friends say. But, were they even to pull down the house, what use? See my panting heart; look at my delight. The sun sheds a grateful light on the moth. My friends invite me one way; my teacher Shemsu-’d-Dīn beckons me the other way. Comply ye with the summoner of the Lord, and have faith in Him. Departure is inevitable. All being came out of nothing, and again it will be shut up in the prison of nullity. Such is God’s decree from all eternity; and, to decree belongeth unto God, the Most High, the All-Great!”

His son Sultan Veled had been unremitting in his attentions. He wept and sobbed. He was reduced to a shadow. Jelāl therefore said to him: “Bahā’u-’d-Dīn, my son, I am better. Go and lie down a little. Rest thyself, and sleep awhile!”

When he was gone, Jelāl indited his last ode; thus:—

“Go! head on pillow lay; alone, in peace, me leave,
Loved tyrant, plague by night, while all around thee grieve.
That peerless beauty (God) has no need kind care to show;
But, sallow lovers, ye must patient faith still know.
Perplexity is ours to bear; ’tis his to own hard heart;
Shed he our blood; what sin? He’ll not pay murder’s smart.
To die’s hard, after all; but remedy there’s none;
How, then, to crave a remedy? The evil’s done.
Last night, in dream, a warder, from my love’s abode,
Made sign to me, and said: ‘This way! Hold thou my lode.’”

* * * * *

90.

It is related that, after his death, when laid on his bier, and while he was being washed by the hands of a loving and beloved disciple, while others poured the water for the ablution of Jelāl’s body, not one drop was allowed to fall to the earth. All was caught by the fond ones around, as had been the case with the Prophet at his death. Every drop was drunk by them as the holiest and purest of waters.

As the washer folded Jelāl’s arms over his breast, a tremor appeared to pass over the corpse, and the washer fell with his face on the lifeless breast, weeping. He felt his ear pulled by the dead saint’s hand, as an admonition. On this, he fainted away, and in his swoon he heard a cry from heaven, which said to him: “Ho there! Verily the saints of the Lord have nothing to fear, neither shall they sorrow. Believers die not; they merely depart from one habitation to another abode!”

91.

When the corpse was brought forth, all the men, women, and children, who flocked to the funeral procession, smote their breasts, rent their garments, and uttered loud lamentations. These mourners were of all creeds, and of various nations; Jews and Christians, Turks, Romans, and Arabians were among them. Each recited sacred passages, according to their several usages, from the Law, the Psalms, or the Gospel.

The Muslims strove to drive away these strangers, with blows of fist, or staff, or sword. They would not be repelled. A great tumult was the result. The Sultan, the Heir-Apparent, and the Perwāna all flew to appease the strife, together with the chief Rabbis, the Bishops, Abbots, &c.

It was asked of these latter why they mixed themselves up with the funeral of an eminent Muslim sage and saint. They replied that they had learnt from him more of the mysteries shrouded in their scriptures, than they had ever known before; and had found in him all the signs and qualities of a prophet and saint, as set forth in those writings. They further declared: “If you Muslims hold him to have been the Muhammed of his age, we esteem him as the Moses, the David, the Jesus of our time; and we are his disciples, his adherents.”

The Muslim leaders could make no answer. And so, in all honour, with every possible demonstration of love and respect, was he borne along, and at length laid in his grave.

He had died as the sun went down, on Sunday, the fifth of the month Jumāda-l-ākhir, A.H. 672 (16th December A.D. 1273); being thus sixty-eight (lunar) years (sixty-six solar years) of age.

92.

Sultan Veled is reported to have related that, shortly after the death of his father, Jelāl, he was sitting with his step-mother, Jelāl’s widow, Kirā Khātūn, and Husāmu-’d-Dīn, when his step-mother saw the spirit of the departed saint, winged as a seraph, poised over his, Sultan Veled’s, head, to watch over him.

93.

Jelāl had a female disciple, a saint, named Nizāma Khātūn, an intimate friend of his wife’s.

Nizāma formed the design to give a spiritual party to Jelāl, with an entertainment for his disciples. She possessed nothing but a Thevr (_or_ Sevr)[25] veil, which she had destined to be her own winding-sheet.

She now ordered her servants to sell this veil, and so procure the necessaries for the projected feast. But, that same morning, Jelāl came to her house with his disciples, and, addressing her, said: “Nizāma Khātūn, sell not thy veil; to thee it is a piece of necessary furniture. Lo! we are come to thy entertainment.”

He and his disciples remained with her, engaged in spiritual exercises, three whole days and nights.

94.

After Jelāl’s death, Kīgātū Khān, a Mogul general, came up against Qonya, intending to sack the city and massacre the inhabitants. (He was emperor from A.H. 690 to 696, A.D. 1290-1294.)

That night, in a dream, he saw Jelāl, who seized him by the throat, and nearly choked him, saying to him: “Qonya is mine. What seekest thou from its people?”

On awaking from his dream, he fell on his knees and prayed for mercy, seeking also for information as to what that portent might signify. He sent in an ambassador to beg permission for him to enter the city as a friendly guest.

When he arrived at the palace, the nobles of Qonya flocked to his court with rich offerings. All being seated in solemn conclave, Kīgātū was suddenly seized with a violent tremor, and asked one of the princes of the city, who was seated on a sofa by himself: “Who may the personage be that is sitting at your side on your sofa?” The prince looked about, right and left; but saw no one. He replied accordingly. Kīgātū answered: “What? How sayest thou? I see by thy side, seated, a tall man with a grisly beard and a sallow complexion, a grey turban, and an Indian plaid over his chest, who looks at me most pryingly.”

The prince sagaciously suspected forthwith that Jelāl’s shade was there present by his side, and made answer: “The sacred eyes of majesty alone are privileged to witness that vision. It is the son of Bahā’u-’d-Dīn of Balkh, our Lord Jelālu-’d-Dīn, who is entombed in this land.”

The Khān replied: “Last night I saw him in my dream. He went nigh choking me, and told me Qonya is his possession. Now, prince, thee I call my adoptive father; and I entirely forego my intention to devastate this city. Tell me; has that holy man any son or descendant alive here?”

The prince told him of Bahā Veled, now Sheykh of the city, and the peerless saint of God. Kīgātū expressed the wish to go and visit the Sheykh. The prince conducted him and his suite of nobles to Sultan Veled. They all declared themselves his disciples, and assumed the dervish turban. Bahā recounted to the Khān the history of his grandfather’s expulsion from Balkh, and of all that followed. The Khān offered him royal presents, and accompanied him on a visit of reverence to the shrine of the deceased saint.