The Soofies.—Opinion of the Mussulmauns concerning Solomon.—The Ood-ood.—Description of the Soofies and their sect.—Regarded with great reverence.—Their protracted fasts.—Their opinion esteemed by the Natives.—Instance of the truth of their predictions.—The Saalik and Majoob Soofies.—The poets Haafiz and Saadie.—Character and attainments of Saadie.—His 'Goolistaun'.—Anecdotes descriptive of the origin of that work.—Farther remarks on the character and history of Saadie.—Interesting anecdotes illustrative of his virtues and the distinguishing characteristics of the Soofies.
The life of King Solomon, with all his acts, is the subject of many an author's pen, both in the Arabic and Persian languages; consequently the learned Mussulmauns of Hindoostaun are intimately acquainted with his virtues, his talent, and the favour with which he was visited by the great goodness of the Almighty. In the course of my sojourn amongst them, I have heard many remarkable and some interesting anecdotes relating to Solomon, which the learned men assure me are drawn from sources of unquestionable authority.
They affirm that the wisdom of Solomon not only enabled him to search into the most hidden thoughts of men, and to hold converse with them in their respective languages, but that the gift extended even to the whole brute creation; by which means he could hold unlimited converse, not only with the animate, as birds, beasts, and fish, but with inanimate objects, as shrubs, trees, and, indeed, the whole tribe of vegetable nature; and, further, that he was permitted to discern and control aerial spirits, as demons, genii, &c.
The pretty bird, known in India by the name of Ood-ood,[1] is much regarded by the Mussulmauns, as by their tradition this bird was the hurkaarah of King Solomon; and entrusted with his most important commissions whenever he required intelligence to be conveyed to or from a far distant place, because he could place greater confidence in the veracity of this bird, and rely on more certain dispatch, than when entrusting his commands to the most worthy of his men servants.
The ood-ood is beautifully formed, has a variegated plumage of black, yellow, and white, with a high tuft of feathers on its head, through which is a spear of long feathers protruding directly across the head for several inches, and is of the woodpecker species. The princes, Nuwaubs, and nobility of Hindoostaun, keep hurkaarahs for the purpose of conveying and obtaining intelligence, who are distinguished by a short spear, with a tuft of silk or worsted about the middle of the handle, and the tail of the ood-ood in the front of their turban, to remind them of this bird, which they are expected to imitate both in dispatch and fidelity. I am told, these men (from their early training) are enabled to run from fifty to sixty miles bare-footed, and return the same distance without halting on the same day.
The religious devotees of the Mussulmaun persuasion, who are denominated Soofies,[1] are conjectured, by many, to have a similar gift with Solomon of understanding the thoughts of other men. By some it is imagined that Solomon was the first Soofie; by others, that Ali, the husband of Fatima, imparted the knowledge of that mystery which constitutes the real Soofie. I am acquainted with some Natives who designate the Soofies 'Freemasons' but I imagine this to be rather on account of both possessing a secret, than for any similarity in other respects, between the two orders of people.
My business, however, is to describe. The Soofies then are, as far as I can comprehend, strictly religious men, who have forsaken entirely all attachment to earthly things, in their adoration of the one supreme God. They are sometimes found dwelling in the midst of a populous city, yet, even there they are wholly detached from the world, in heart, soul, and mind, exercising themselves in constant adoration of, and application to God; occasionally shutting themselves up for several weeks together in a hut of mud, thatched with coarse grass, with scarce sufficient provision to support the smallest living animal, and water barely enough to moisten their parched lips during the weeks thus devoted to solitary retirement and prayer.
When these recluses can no longer support their self-inflicted privation, they open the door of their hut, a signal anxiously watched for by such persons as have a desire to meet the eye of the holy man, of whom they would inquire on some (to them) interesting matter; probably regarding their future prospects in the world, the cause of the ill-health and prospects of recovery of a diseased member of their family, or any like subject of interest to the inquirer.
The Soofie, I am told, does not approve of being thus teased by the importunities of the thronging crowd, who beset his threshold the instant his door is heard to open. Being weak in body, after the fatigue of a protracted fast of weeks together, his replies to the questions (preferred always with remarkable humility) are brief and prompt; and the Natives assure me dependence may always be placed on the good Soofie's reply being strictly the words of truth. On this account, even if the oracle's reply disappoint the hopes of the questioner, he retires without a murmur, for then he knows the worst of his calamity, and if God orders it so, he must not complain, because Infinite Wisdom cannot err, and the holy man will assuredly speak the truth.
The practice so long prevailing in Europe of visiting the cunning man, to have the hidden mysteries of fate solved, occurred to my recollection when I first heard of this custom in India.
'Will my son return from his travels during my lifetime?'—was the inquiry of a truly religious man, whom I knew very intimately, to one of the professed Soofie class, on his emerging from his hut. The reply was as follows:—'Go home!—be happy;—comfort your heart;—he is coming!' By a singular coincidence it happened, that the following day's daak produced a letter, announcing to him that his son was on his way returning to his home and his father, who had for some years despaired of ever again seeing his son in this life.
It is needless to say, that the veneration shown to this Soofie was much increased by the singular coincidence, because the person who consulted him was a man of remarkable probity, and not given to indulge in idle conversations with the worldly-minded of that city.
There are many men in this country, I am told, who make Soofieism their profession, but who are in reality hypocrites to the world, and their Maker: actuated sometimes by the love of applause from the multitude, but oftener, I am assured, by mercenary motives. A Soofie enjoying public favour may, if he choose, command any man's wealth who gives credit to his supposed power. All men pay a marked deference to his holy character, and few would have the temerity to withhold the desired sum, however inconvenient to bestow, should the demand be made by one professing to be a Soofie.
The real Soofie is, however, a very different character, and an object of deserved veneration, if only for the virtue of perfect content with which his humble mind is endued: respect cannot be withheld by the reflecting part of the world, when contemplating a fellow-creature (even of a different faith) whose life is passed in sincere devotion to God, and strictly conforming to the faith he has embraced. My Native friends inform me,—and many reprobate the notion,—that the Soofies believe they resolve into the Divine essence when their souls are purified from the animal propensities of this life by severe privations, fervent and continual prayer, watchings, resisting temptations, and profound meditation in solitude. When they have acquired the perfection they aim at, and are really and truly the perfect Soofie, they rarely quit the hut they have first selected for their retirement, and into which no one ever attempts to intrude, without the Soofie commands it. He enjoys the universal respect and veneration of all classes of people; he has no worldly rewards to bestow, yet there are servants always ready to do him any kindness, amongst the number of his admirers who flock to catch but a glimpse of the holy man, and fancy themselves better when but the light of his countenance has beamed upon them. Proudly pre-eminent, in his own eyes, is the one amongst the multitude who may be so far honoured as to be allowed to place a platter of food before the Soofie, when the imperative demands of Nature prevail over his self-inflicted abstinence.
Some Soofies shut themselves in their hut for a few days, and others for weeks together, without seeing or being seen by a human being. Their general clothing is simply a wrapper of calico, and their only furniture a coarse mat. They are said to be alike insensible to heat or cold, so entirely are their hearts weaned from the indulgence of earthly comforts.
I must explain, however, that there are two classes of the professedly devout Soofies, viz. the Saalik, and the Majoob.[3] The true Saalik Soofies are those who give up the world and its allurements, abstain from all sensual enjoyments, rarely associate with their fellow-men, devote themselves entirely to their Creator, and are insensible to any other enjoyments but such as they derive from their devotional exercises.
The Majoob Soofies have no established home nor earthly possessions; they drink wine and spirits freely, when they can obtain them. Many people suppose this class have lost the possession of their reason, and make excuse for their departure from the law on that score. Both classes are nevertheless in great respect, because the latter are not deemed guilty of breaking the law, since they are supposed to be insensible of their actions whilst indulging in the forbidden juice of the grape.
Haafiz,[4] the celebrated poet of Persia, it is related, was a Soofie of the Majoob class, he lived without a thought of providing for future exigencies, accepted the offerings of food from his neighbour, drank wine freely when offered to him, and slept under any shed or hovel he met with, as contented as if he was in the palace of a king.
Saadie,[5] the Persian poet, was, during the latter years of his life, a Saalik Soofie of the most perfect kind. Many of the inspirations of his pen, however, were written in that part of his life which was devoted to the world and its enjoyments; yet most of these indicate purity of thought in a remarkable degree. Saadie's life was subject to the most extraordinary vicissitudes; he possessed an independent mind, scorning every allurement of wealth which might tend to shackle his principles. He is said to have repeatedly rejected offers of patronage and pecuniary assistance from many noblemen, whilst he still loved the world's enticements, declaring he never could submit to confine himself to attendance on an earthly master for any lengthened period. His wit, pleasing deportment, and polite manners, together with the amiable qualities of his heart, rendered him a general favourite, and they who could boast most intimacy with Saadie were the most honoured by the world; for, though but the poor Saadie, he shed a lustre over the assemblies of the great and noble in birth or station, by his brilliant mind.
The 'Goolistaun'[6] of Saadie has been so often eulogized, as to render it unnecessary for me to add a single word in commendation of its style and morality; but I will here take leave to insert an anecdote translated for me by my husband, in allusion to the incident which prompted Saadie to write that work, under the title of 'Goolistaun' (Garden of Roses). I will also here remark, that in the principal cities of Persia, the Mussulmauns of that age were not equally rigid in their observance of the law interdicting the use of fermented liquors, as are those of the present day in Hindoostaun. Many young men among the higher orders indulged freely in the 'life-inspiring draught', as they were wont to call the juice of the grape.
'Shiraaz was the abode and the presumptive birth-place of Saadie. In his early years he was led by a love of society to depart from the rigid customs of his forefathers, and with the wild youth of his acquaintance to indulge freely in nightly potations of the forbidden juice of the grape. He had long delighted his friends and favourites by sharing in their nocturnal revels, and adding by his wit and pleasantry to the mirthful moments as they flew by unheeded.
'At a particular season of the year, a convivial party were accustomed to assemble in a garden of roses, from midnight to the rising sun, to indulge in the luxury of wine during that refreshing season; as to receive the first scent from the opening roses as they expand with the dawn of the morning, constituted a delight, proverbially intoxicating, amongst the sons of Persia. Saadie composed many airs for the occasion, and gifted by Nature with a voice equalled only by his wit, he sang them with a melody so sweet as to render him almost the idol of his companions.
'At one of these seasons of enjoyment, the festival was prepared by his circle of friends as usual, but Saadie delayed his visit. The whole party were lost in surprise and regret at an absence as unexpected as deplored. Some time was passed in fruitless conjecture on the cause of his delay, and at last it was agreed that a deputation from his well-beloved associates should go in quest of their favourite. They accordingly went, and knocked at the door of his room, which they found was securely fastened within. The poet inquired "Who is it that disturbs my repose, at this hour, when all good subjects of the King should be at rest?"—"Why, Saadie, Saadie!" they replied, "it is your friends and associates, your favourites!—have you forgotten our enjoyments and this season of bliss? Come, come, open the door, Saadie! away with us! our revels await your presence. Nothing gives enjoyment to our party until you add your smiles to our mirth."
'"Let me alone," replied Saadie; "enjoy your pastime, if such it be to ye; but for me, I am heartily ashamed of my late wanton pursuits. I have resolved on mending my ways, whilst yet I have time; and be ye also wise, my friends; follow Saadie's example. Go home to your beds, and forsake the sinful habits of the world!"
'"Why Saadie, what aileth thee! art thou mad?—or has the study of philosophy drawn thee from thy former self, whilst yet thine hairs are jet with youth? These reflections of thine will suit us till far better when time hath frosted our beards. Come, come, Saadie, away with us! let not the precious moments escape in this unprofitable converse. You must come, Saadie; our hearts will break without you!"
'"Nay, nay," responded Saadie, "my conscience smites me that I have erred too long. It suits not my present temper to join in your mirth."—"Open the door to us at any rate," sounded from the many voices without; "speak to us face to face, our dear and well-beloved friend! let us have admission, and we will argue the subject coolly."—Saadie's good-nature could not resist the appeal, the door was unbarred, and the young men entered in a body.
'"We have all wickedly broken the law of the faithful," said Saadie to his guests; and he tried to reason with his unreasonable favourites, who, on their part, used raillery, bantering, argument, and every power of speech, to turn Saadie from his steady purpose of now fulfilling the law he had wilfully violated. They effected nothing in moving him from his purpose, until one of the young men, to whom Saadie was much attached, spoke tenderly to him of the affection both himself and friends entertained for him, adding, "It is written in our law, that if a Mussulmaun be guilty of any sin, however great, (and all kinds of sin are therein enumerated), and he afterwards sincerely repents before God, with fasting and prayer, his sins shall be forgiven. Now you, Saadie, who are deeply versed in the way of wisdom, and better acquainted with the words of the Khoraun than any other man on earth, tell me, is there in that holy book a promise made of forgiveness for that man who breaks the hearts of his fellow-creatures? With us there are many hearts so devotedly attached to you, that must assuredly burst the bonds of life by your complete and sudden desertion of them, so that not one sin but many shall be hurled by their deaths on your conscience, to be atoned for how you may."
'Saadie loved them all too dearly to resist their persevering proofs of affection, and he suffered himself, after a little more argument, to be led forth to the scene of their revels, where, however, he argued strongly on the impropriety of their habits and refused to be tempted by the alluring wine. He then promised to prepare for them a never-fading garden of roses which should last with the world; every leaf of which, if plucked with attention, should create a greater and more lasting bliss about their hearts than the best wine of Shiraaz, or the most refined aromatic had hitherto conveyed to their sensual appetites.'
After the evening in question, Saadie abstained from all participation in the revels of his friends, and devoted his hours to retirement that he might accomplish the 'Goolistaun' he had pledged himself to cultivate for their more substantial benefit and perpetual enjoyment. The simplicity, elegance, purity of style, and moral precepts conveyed in this work, prove the author to have been worthy the respect with which his name has been reverenced through all ages, and to this day, by the virtuously disposed his work is read with unabated interest.
Saadie did not remain very long at Shiraaz after his conversion, nor did he settle any where for any long period. The Persian writers assert that he disliked the importunities of the world, which, sensible of his merits as a poet and companion, constantly urged him to associate with them. He, therefore, lived a wandering life for many years, carefully concealing his name, which had then become so celebrated by his writings, that even beyond the boundaries of Persia his fame was known.
As his manner of life was simple, his wants were few; he depended solely on the care of Divine Providence for his daily meal, avoiding every thing like laying by from to-day's produce for the morrow's sustenance. He considered that provision alone acceptable, which the bounty of Divine Providence daily provided for his need, by disposing the hearts of others to tender a suitable supply. In fact, he is said to have been of opinion that the store laid up by men for future exigencies lessened the delightful feeling of dependance on the bounty of God, who faileth not, day by day, to provide for the birds and beasts of the forest with equal care as for the prince on his throne; he would say, 'I shall be tempted to forget from whom my bread is received, if I have coins in my purse to purchase from the vender. Sweet is the daily bread granted to my prayers and dependance on the sole Giver of all good!'
To illustrate the necessity of perfect content, he relates, in his writings, the following interesting anecdote:—'I was once travelling on foot, where the roads were rugged, my shoes worn out, and my feet cut by the stones. I was desirous of pursuing my journey quickly, and secretly mourned that my feet pained me, and that my shoes were now rendered useless; often wishing, as I stepped with caution, that I possessed the means of replenishing these articles so useful to a traveller.
'With these feelings of dissatisfaction, I approached the spot where a poor beggar was seated, who, by some calamity, had been deprived of both his feet. I viewed this sad object with much commiseration, for he was dependant on the kindness of his fellow-beggars to convey him daily to that public spot, where the passing traveller, seeing his misery, might be induced to bestow upon him a few coins to provide for his subsistence. "Alas! alas!" said I, "how have I suffered my mind to be disturbed because my feet pained me, and were shoeless. Ungrateful being that I am! rather ought I to rejoice with an humble heart, that my gracious Benefactor hath granted me the blessing of feet, and sound health. Never let me again murmur or repine for the absence of a luxury, whilst my real wants are amply supplied."'
One of my objects in detailing the anecdotes of Saadie in this place, is to give a more correct idea of the Soofie character of that particular class called Saalik, to which he ultimately belonged.
The next translation from the life of Saadie will show how beautifully his well-tempered spirit soared above those difficulties which the common mind would have sunk under. His fame, his superior manners, were of that rare kind, that distance from his birth-place could be no obstacle to his making friends, if he chose to disclose his name in any city of Asia.
I have no dates to guide me in placing the several anecdotes in their proper order; this, however, will be excused, as I do not pretend to give his history.
'On one occasion, Saadie was journeying on foot, and being overtaken by the Arabs, (who, or a party of, it may be presumed, were at war with Persia), he was taken prisoner, and conveyed by them, with many others, to Aleppo. The prisoners, as they arrived, were all devoted to the public works (fortifying the city), and obliged to labour according to their ability.
'Saadie, unused to any branch of mechanical labour, could only be employed in conveying mortar to the more scientific workmen. For many months he laboured in this way, degrading as the employment was, without a murmur, or a desire that his fate had been otherways ordained. Hundreds of men then living in Aleppo would have been proud of the honour and the good name they must have acquired from the world, by delivering the Poet from his thraldom, had they known he was amongst them, a slave to the Arabs; for Saadie was revered as a saint by those who had either read his works, or heard of his name, extolled as it was for his virtues. But Saadie placed his trust in God alone, and his confidence never for an instant forsook him; he kept his name concealed from all around him, laboured as commanded, and was contented.
'Many months of degrading servitude had passed by, when one day, it so happened that a rich Jew merchant, who had formerly lived at Shiraaz, and there had been honoured by the regard of the idolized Saadie, visited Aleppo, on his mercantile concerns. Curiosity led him to survey the improvements going on in the city; and passing the spot where Saadie was then presenting his load of mortar to the mason, he thought he recognized the Poet, yet deemed it impossible that he should be engaged in so degrading an employment, who was the object of universal veneration in Persia. Still the likeness to his former friend was so striking, that he felt no trifling degree of pleasure, whilst contemplating those features whose resemblance recalled the image of that holy man who was so dear to him, and brought back to his recollection many delightful hours of friendly converse, which at Shiraaz had cheated time of its weight, and left impressions on his heart to profit by during life.
'"I will talk with this man," thought the Jew; "surely he must be related to my friend; the face, the form, the graceful manner, and even in that rude garb and occupation, he so strongly resembles my friend, that I cannot doubt he must be of the same kindred."
'Drawing near to Saadie, the Jew accosted him with, "Who are you, friend,—and whence do you come?" Saadie's voice dispelled every doubt of the Jew, their eyes met, and in a few seconds they were clasped in each other's warm embrace, the Jew lamenting, in terms of warm sympathy, the degradation of the immortalized poet, and sainted man; whilst he in turn checked his friend's murmurings, by expressing his conviction that the wisdom of God knew best how to lead his confiding servants to himself, declaring his present occupation did not render him discontented.
'The Jew went without delay to the superintendant of the public works, and inquired the sum he would be willing to receive in lieu of the labourer whom he desired to purchase, carefully avoiding the name of Saadie lest the ransom should be proportioned to the real value of such a slave. The man agreed to take one hundred and ten pieces of silver (each in value half a dollar). The sum was promptly paid, and the Jew received an order to take away his purchase when and wherever he pleased. He lost no time in possessing himself of his treasured friend, conveyed him to the city, where he clothed him in apparel better suited to his friend, and on the same day Saadie accompanied the benevolent Israelite to his country residence, some miles distant from the city of Aleppo.
'Arrived here, Saadie enjoyed uninterrupted peace of mind for a long season, his heart bounding with gratitude to God, who had, he felt assured, worked out his deliverance from slavery and its consequences; and as may be supposed from such a heart, Saadie was truly sensible of the benevolent Jew's kindness, with whom he was constrained to remain a considerable time, for the Jew indeed loved him as a brother, and always grieved at the bare probability that they might ever again be separated; and desiring to secure his continuance with him during their joint lives, he proposed that Saadie should accept his only daughter in marriage with a handsome dowry.
'Saadie resisted his friend's offer for some time, using arguments which, instead of altering his friend's purpose, only strengthened the desire to secure this amiable man as the husband of his daughter. Saadie assured him he was sensible of the offence his friend might give to the opinions of his people, by the proposal of uniting his daughter to a man of another faith, and that their prejudices would bring innumerable evils on his good name by such an alliance. "No," said Saadie, "I cannot consent to such a measure. I have already been a great trouble to you, if not a burden; let me depart, for I cannot consent to draw down on the head of my friend the censures of his tribe, and, perhaps, in after-time, disappointments. I have, indeed, no desire to marry; my heart and mind are otherways engaged."
'The friends often discussed the subject ere Saadie gave way to the earnest solicitations of the Jew, to whose happiness the grateful heart of Saadie was about to be sacrificed when he reluctantly consented to become the husband of the young Jewess. The marriage ceremony was performed according to the Jewish rites, when Saadie was overpowered with the caresses and munificence of his friend and father-in-law.
'A very short season of domestic peace resulted to him from the alliance. The young lady had been spoiled by the over-indulgence of her doating parent, her errors of temper and mind having never been corrected. Proud, vindictive, and arrogant, she played the part of tyrant to her meek and faultless husband. She strove to rouse his temper by taunts, revilings, and indignities that required more than mortal nature to withstand replying to, or bear with composure.
'Still Saadie went on suffering in silence; although the trials he had to endure undermined his health, he never allowed her father to know the misery he had entailed on himself by this compliance with his well-meant wishes; nor was the secret cause of his altered appearance suspected by the kind-hearted Jew, until by common report his daughter's base behaviour was disclosed to the wretched father, who grieved for the misfortunes he had innocently prepared for the friend of his heart.
'Saadie, it is said, entreated the good Jew to allow of a divorce from the Jewess, which, however, was not agreed to; and when his sufferings had so increased that his tranquillity was destroyed, fearing the loss of reason would follow, he fled from Aleppo in disguise and retraced his steps to Shiraaz, where in solitude his peace of mind was again restored, for there he could converse with his merciful Creator and Protector uninterrupted by the strife of tongues.'
[1]Hudhud, the lapwing, hoopoe. In the Koran (xxvii. 20, with Sale's note) the bird is described as carrying a letter from Solomon to the Queen of Sheba. On another occasion, when Solomon was lost in the desert, he sent it to procure for him water for ablution.
[2] The termsufi, derived fromsuf, 'wool', in allusion to the garments worn by them, was applied in the second century of Islam to men or women who adopted the ascetic or quietistic way of life. See Hughes,Dictionary of Islam, 608 ff.: D.B. Macdonald,The Development of Muslim Theology, 1903: E.G. Browne,A Year Amongst the Persians, 1893.
[3] If a Sufi becomes, by devotion, attracted to God, he is calledSalik-i-majzub, 'an attracted devotee': if he practises complete devotion, but is not influenced by the special attraction of God, he is calledSalik, 'a devotee' (Hughes,Dictionary of Islam, 612: Jaffur Shurreef,Qanoon-e-Islam, 197).
[4] See p. 255.
[5] See p. 255.
[6] Gulistan.
The Soofies continued.—Eloy Bauxh.—Assembly of Saalik Soofies.—Singular exhibition of their zeal.—Mystery of Soofeism.—The terms Soofie and Durweish explained.—Anecdote of Shah Sherif.—Shah Jee and the Paltaan.—Dialogue on death between Shah Jee and his wife.—Exemplary life of his grandson.—Anecdote of a Mussulmaun lady.—Reflections on modern Hindoos.—Anecdotes of Shah ood Dowlah and Meer Nizaam…Page 348
My last Letter introduced the Soofies to your notice, the present shall convey a further account of some of these remarkable characters who have obtained so great celebrity among the Mussulmauns of India, as to form the subjects of daily conversation. I have heard some rigid Mussulmauns declare they discredit the mysterious knowledge a Soofie is said to possess, yet the same persons confess themselves staggered by the singular circumstances attending the practice of Soofies living in their vicinity, which they have either witnessed or heard related by men whose veracity they cannot doubt; amongst the number I may quote an intimate acquaintance of my husband's, a very venerable Syaad of Lucknow, who relates an anecdote of Saalik Soofies, which I will here introduce.
'Meer Eloy Bauxh,[1] a Mussulmaun of distinguished piety, who has devoted a long life to the service of God, and in doing good to his fellow-men, tells me, that being curious to witness the effect of an assembly of Saalik Soofies, he went with a party of friends, all equally disposed with himself to be amused by the eccentricities of the Soofies, whose practice they ridiculed as at least absurd,—to speak in no harsher terms of their pretended supernatural gifts.
'This assembly consisted of more than a hundred persons, who by agreement met at a large hall in the city of Lucknow, for the purpose of "remembering the period of absence", as they term the death of a highly revered Soofie of their particular class. The room being large, and free admittance allowed to all persons choosing to attend the assembly, Meer Eloy Bauxh and his party entered, and seated themselves in a convenient place for the more strict scrutiny of the passing-scene.
'The service for the occasion began with a solemn strain by the musical performers, when one of the inspired Soofies commenced singing in a voice of remarkable melody. The subject was a hymn of praise to the great Creator, most impressively composed in the Persian language. Whilst the Soofie was singing, one of the elders in particular,—though all seemed sensibly affected by the strain,—rose from his seat, in what the Soofies themselves call, "the condition changed," which signifies, by what I could learn, a religious ecstasy. This person joined in the same melody which the other Soofie had begun, and at the same time accompanied the music by capering and sobbing in the wildest manner imaginable. His example had the effect of exciting all the Soofies on whom his eyes were cast to rise also and join him in the hymn and dance.
'The singularity of this scene seemed, to Meer Eloy Bauxh and his party, so ludicrous that they could not refrain from laughing in an audible manner, which attracted the attention of the principal Soofie engaged in the dance, who cast his eyes upon the merry party, not, however, apparently in anger. Strange as he confesses it to be,—and even now it seems more like a dream than a reality,—at the moment he met the eye of the Soofie, there was an instant glow of pure happiness on his heart, a sensation of fervent love to God, which he had never before felt, in his most devout moments of prayer and praise; his companions were similarly affected, their eyes filled with tears, their very souls seemed elevated from earth to heaven in the rapture of their songs of adoration, which burst forth from their lips in unison with the whole Soofie assemblage.
'Before they had finished their song of praise, which lasted a considerable time, the chief of the Soofie party sunk exhausted on the carpet, whilst the extraordinary display of devotion continued in full force on the whole assembly, whether Soofies or mere visitors, for many minutes after the principal devotee had fallen to the floor. Water was then procured, and animation gradually returned to the poor exhausted devotee, but with considerable delay. Meer Eloy Bauxh says he waited until the Soofie was perfectly restored to sense, and saw him taken to his place of abode; he then returned to his own home to meditate on the events of a day he never can forget.'
Soofeism, it appears, (by the accounts I have received,) is a mystery; the secret of which can only be imparted by the professor to such persons as have been prepared for its reception, by a course of religious instruction. No one can be initiated into the mystery who has not first renounced all worldly vanities and ambitious projects—who is not sincerely repentant of past offences—who has not acquired perfect humility of heart, and an entire resignation to the Divine Will—a lively faith in God, and a firm determination to love and serve Him, from a conviction, 'That God alone is worthy to be served, loved, and worshipped by His creatures.' Thus prepared, the person is to receive instruction from a Calipha, (head or leader of the Soofies), who directs the pupil in certain exercises of the heart, which constitute the secrets of their profession. What these exercises are, I am not competent to give an opinion, but judging by the way a real Soofie conducts himself, it may be presumed his practices are purely religious; for I am assured that he is devoted to all good ways; that he carefully avoids worldly vanities, and every species of temptation and alluring gratification of the senses; that he is incessant in prayer, and in fasting severe; free from all prejudice, as regards the belief or persuasion of other men, so long as they worship God alone; regarding all mankind as brothers, himself the humblest of the race; claiming no merit for the ascendancy he has acquired over earthly wishes, he gives glory alone to God, whom he loves and worships.
All the Durweish are of the Mussulmaun persuasion. Many are devout Durweish, who are, nevertheless, unacquainted with the mystery of Soofeism; and, to use their own words, (by which the Natives distinguish them), 'Every real Soofie is undoubtedly a Durweish, but all Durweishes are not Soofies,' although their lives may be devoted much in the same holy way, both in the practice of religion and abstinence from worldly enjoyments; and if the writers on these subjects may be believed, many wonderful cures have been effected by the prayers of the devout Durweish.
There are some pretenders, I am told, who put themselves forth to the world in the character of a Durweish, who are not, in fact, entitled to the appellation,—hypocritical devotees, who wear the outward garb of humility, without the feeling of that inward virtue which is the characteristic principle of the true Durweish. The distinction between the real and the pretended Durweish, may be illustrated by the following anecdote which I have received from the mouth of Meer Hadjee Shaah:—
'In the last century,' he says, 'there lived at or near Delhi, a very pure-minded Durweish, named Shah Sherif ood deen Mah-mood,[2] (he was known in his latter years by several of my aged acquaintance at Lucknow, and his son and grandson both lived, at different periods, in that city). This person forsook the world whilst in the prime of manhood, and devoted himself to prayer, fasting, and good deeds. He was esteemed the most humble-minded of human beings, and his devotion to his Maker sincere and ardent. His principal abode was Delhi, where his wife and children also resided, to whom he was tenderly attached; yet so tempered were his affections, that he never allowed any earthly endearments to interfere with his devotions, or to separate him from his love to his Creator.
'It was announced by the Soofies and Durweish, that on a certain day a festival or assembly of holy men would meet for the service of God, at the Jummah musjud[3] (Friday mosque), situated in the city of Delhi.
'Shah Sherif ood deen was disposed to attend the meeting, which consisted of the heads or superiors of several classes of the religious, with their disciples and followers. At this meeting, as was expected, were assembled the Soofies, Durweish, and religious mendicants of all ranks and conditions, from those clothed in gold-cloth and brocade, down to the almost naked Faakeer;[4] and amongst the latter number may be classed the humble-minded Shah Sherif ood deen. A small wrapper girt about his loins by a girdle of black wool spun into small ropes, and a similar article wound round his head, with a coarse white sheet over his shoulders for his summer apparel; and a black blanket to shelter his naked limbs from the cold winter, formed his sole wardrobe.
'This holy man took his station in the most humble spot of the assembly, "sitting amongst the shoes" of the more esteemed or more aspiring personages. As there was nothing remarkable in his appearance, he remained unobserved, or unnoticed by the multitude present. Many of the assembly made great display of their right to pre-eminence, by the costliness of their robes, the splendour of their equipage, and the number of their servants; striving to command respect, if possible, by their superior external habiliments.
'This meeting had been convened to celebrate the death of one of their order, which had occurred some years prior. After prayers had been read, suited to the occasion, a poor man, whose very appearance might excite compassion, addressed the heads of the devotees with folded hands, beseeching them, who were accounted so truly holy in their lives, to offer up a prayer for him who had so long suffered severe affliction, by reason of his neck and face being drawn awry, from a paralytic attack, or some like calamity. The sufferer said, "I am a poor merchant, and have a large family dependant altogether on my personal exertions for support; but, alas! this illness prevents me from attending to the business of life. I am wasting both in body and in substance through this grievous affliction."
'The sick man's address was heard by the whole assembly in silence; many present, both Soofies and Durweish, were really pious men, and were willing to allow the person who seemed to be the head of this assembly, to intercede in behalf of the sufferer. To him they all looked, expecting he would commence a prayer in which they might join; but he, it is suspected, conscious of his own duplicity in assuming only the character of a Soofie without the virtues, was anxious to dismiss the supplicant, with a promise that prayer should certainly be made for him in private, adding, "This is not a proper season for your application; it is disrespectful to disturb our meeting with your requests; we came not here to listen to your importunities, but on more important, business."
'"True, my Lord," answered the afflicted man; "I am sensible of all you say; but, I do assure you, private prayer has been tried for my relief by many individuals of your holy profession, and I have still to mourn my calamity. I thought when so many holy persons were assembled together, the united prayer—in accordance with our Prophet's commands—offered up at this time, would certainly be received at the throne of Mercy. I entreat then, at the hands of this venerable assembly, the aid I require."
'The pretended Soofie looked haughtily on the sick man, and bade him retire to his home; he should have a prayer offered, he might depend, but it must be in private. The sufferer was still importunate, and urged every argument he could command, to induce the inexorable Soofie to allow the present assembly to offer a prayer on the spot for his recovery; but nothing he could urge availed with the proud Soofie, who at length grew angry even to the use of bitter words.
'Shah Sherif ood deen observed in silence the scene before him; at length he ventured (in the most respectful terms) to suggest to the heads of the assembly the propriety of vouchsafing the poor man's request; and hinted that, the prayer of some one more pure of heart than the rest might effectually reach the throne of Mercy in behalf of the supplicant.
'"And pray," said the leader, rising haughtily, "who gave you leave to suggest or recommend to your superiors in knowledge and virtue? Is not our determination sufficient, that you, insignificant being! should presume to teach us what we ought to do?—you can know nothing of the Durweish's powerful prayers, nor the mystery of a Soofie's holy calling."
'"I am, indeed, a very ignorant and unworthy creature," replied Shah Sherif, "and acknowledge my great presumption in daring to speak before so many of my superiors in knowledge and virtue; but we are told in our hudeeths (true speech) that the prayers of many hearts may prevail in a good cause, whilst singly offered the same prayer might fail," The proud Soofie's anger seemed to increase as the Durweish spoke; he bade him keep silence, and reviled him with many bitter words, which the good Shah received with his usual humility and forbearance. At length, the Shah looked attentively at the Soofie, who had thus rebuked and insulted him, and said, "I will believe, Sir, you are the Soofie you aspire to be thought among your fellow-men, if you will immediately offer up your single prayer, by which the suffering man may be relieved; for we know such prayers have been answered by the gracious Giver of all good."
'"What do you know of the powerful prayer of the Soofie?" replied the proud man, "I suspect you to be an impostor in your humble exterior."—"No, " said the Shah, "I am but a poor beggar, and a humble, the very humblest servant of God."—"You pretend to much humility," retorted the Soofie, "suppose we see one of your miraculous works in answer to your prayer; it would please us to witness what you can do."
'Shah Sherif ood deen raised his eyes to Heaven, his heart went with his prayer, and in a dignified manner he stretched forth his hand towards the afflicted person. The man was instantly restored; then drawing his hand into a direct line with the proud Soofie, and pointing his finger to him, he said, "What more, friend, dost them now require of me? The man's affliction is removed, but the power which is delegated to me rests still on my finger; command me, to whom shall I present it; to you, or any one of your people?"
'The proud Soofie hung his head abashed and confounded, he had not power to answer. The Shah observed his confusion and said, "It is not well to pray for relief to one poor weak fellow-creature, and then to afflict another; to the mountain's retreat, I will consign this malady." Then shaking his hand as if to relieve himself from a heavy weight, he uttered in a solemn tone, "Go to the mountains!" and resumed that humble seat he had first chosen with a smile of composure beaming on his countenance.' This miracle is actually believed by the Natives to be true.
Shah Sherif ood deen, say the people who know him, spent the principal part of each day and night in silent prayer and meditation; no one ever ventured to intrude within his small sanctuary, but hundreds of people would assemble outside the building, in front of which he occasionally sat for an hour, but scarcely ever conversed with any one of his visitors. During the time he was thus seated, he generally raised his eyes once or twice, and looked round on the faces of his audience. It was generally remarked, that no one could meet the eye of Shah Jee—that familiar appellation by which he was known—without an indescribable sensation of reverential awe, which irresistibly compelled them to withdraw their eyes. The talismanic power of Shah Jee's eyes had become proverbial throughout the city of Delhi. A certain Pattaan,[5] however, of warlike appearance, a man remarkable for his bravery, declared amongst his associates that he would certainly out-stare Shah Jee, if ever they met, which he was resolved should be the very first opportunity; he accordingly went with his companions at a time when this Durweish was expected to appear in public.
The Pattaan was seated on the floor with many other people; when the Shah issued from his sanctuary, the people rose to make their salaams, which Shah Jee either did not, or would not observe, but seated himself according to his custom on the mat which had been spread for him; where, his eyes fixed on the ground, he seemed for some time to be wholly absorbed in silent meditation. At length, raising his head, he turned his face to the long line of spectators, saluting with his eyes each person in the row, until he came to the Pattaan, who, according to his vow, kept his large eyes fixed on the Durweish. Shah Jee went on with his survey, and a second time cast a glance along the whole line, not omitting the Pattaan as before, whose gaze, his companions observed, was as firmly settled on the Durweish as at the first. A third time the eyes of the Shah went round the assembly and rested again on the Pattaan.
Observing the immoveable eyes of their Pattaan acquaintance, the visitors smiled at each other, and secretly gave him credit for a piety and pureness of heart which he was not before supposed to be blessed with; 'How else,' said they, 'would he have been able to withstand the penetrating glance of the revered Durweish.' Shah Jee rose from his seat, and retired, thus giving to the company a signal for their departure from the place.
The associates of the Pattaan congratulated him on his success, and inquired by what stratagem he had so well succeeded in fulfilling his promise; but his eyes being still fixed in a wild stare, he replied not to his questioners. They rallied him, and tried by a variety of means to dissolve his reverie; but the Pattaan was insensible, all the boasted energies of his mind having forsaken him. His friends were now alarmed at his abstractedness, and with considerable difficulty removed him from the place to his own home, where his family received him, for the first time, with grief, as he was their whole stay and support, and the kind head of a large family.
The Pattaan continued staring in the same state throughout the night and following day, talking wildly and incoherently. 'The Pattaan is paid for his presumption,' said some; others recommended application to be made to the Durweish, Shah Jee, who could alone remove the calamity. The wife and mother, with many female dependants, resolved on pleading his case with the benevolent Shah Jee; but as access to him would be difficult, they conceived the idea of making their petition through the agency of the wife of the Durweish, to whom they accordingly went in a body at night, and related their distress, and the manner in which they supposed it to have originated, declaring, in conclusion, that as the excellent Durweish had been pleased to cast this affliction on their guardian, they must become slaves to his family, since bread could no longer be provided by the labour of him who had hitherto been their support.
The wife of the Durweish comforted the women by kind words, desiring them to wait patiently until her dear lord could be spoken with, as she never ventured to intrude on his privacy at an improper moment, however urgent the necessity. After a few hours' delay, passed with impatient feeling by the group of petitioning females, they were at length repaid by the voice of Shah Jee. His wife going to the door of his apartment, told him of the circumstance attending the Pattaan, and the distressed condition of the females of his family, who came to supplicate his aid in restoring their relative to reason; adding, 'What commands will you be pleased to convey by me? What remedy do you propose for the suffering Pattaan?'
The Durweish answered, 'His impure heart, then, could not withstand the reflected light. Well, well! tell the poor women to be comforted, and as they desire to have the Pattaan restored to his former state, they need only purchase some sweetmeats from the bazaar, which the man being induced to eat, he will speedily be restored to his wonted bodily and mental powers.'
Upon hearing the commands of Shah Jee, the women speedily departed, ejaculating blessings on the Durweish, his wife, and family. On their return they purchased the sweetmeats and presented them to the Pattaan, who devoured them with eagerness, and immediately afterwards his former senses returned, to the no small joy of his family circle. They inquired of him, what had been the state of his feelings during the time he was in that insensible state from which he was now happily relieved? He replied, that the first gaze of the Durweish had fixed his eyes so firmly that he could by no means close or withdraw them from the object; the second glance detached his thoughts from every earthly vanity or wish; and that the third look from the same holy person, fixed him in unspeakable joys, transports pure and heavenly, which continued until he had eaten the sweetmeats they had presented, with a kind intention, he had no doubt, but which nevertheless, must be ever regretted by him whilst life remained; for no earthly joy could be compared with that which he had experienced in his trance.
The Durweish Shah Sherif ood deen, was asked by some one why he had selected the bazaar sweetmeats as a remedy in the Pattaan's case? He answered, 'Because I knew the man's heart was corrupt. The light which had been imparted to him could alone be removed by his partaking of the dirtiest thing mortals hold good for food, and surely there cannot be any thing more dirty than the bazaar sweetmeats, exposed as they are to the flies and dust of the city; and how filthily they are manufactured requires not my aid in exposing.'
This Durweish is said,—and believed by the good Mussulmaun people I have conversed with,—to have foreseen the hour when he should be summoned from this life into eternity; and three weeks prior to the appointed time, he endeavoured to fortify the minds of his wife and family, to bear with resignation that separation he had been warned should take place. He assembled his affectionate relatives on the occasion, and thus addressed them, 'My dear family, it is the will of God that we should part; on such a day (mentioning the time), my soul will take flight from its earthly mansion. Be ye all comforted, and hereafter, if ye obey God's holy law, ye shall meet me again in a blessed eternity.'
As may be supposed, the females wept bitterly; they were distressed, because the good Durweish had ever been kind, indulgent, affectionate, and tender in all the relative situations he held amongst them. He tried many soothing arguments to comfort and console them for some hours, but without in the least reducing their grief, or moderating their bewailings: they could not, and would not be comforted.
'Well,' said the Durweish, 'since the separation I have predicted causes you all so much sorrow, it would be better, perhaps, that we part not. I have thought of another method to avoid the pangs of separation; I will offer my prayers this night to the gracious Giver of all good, that He may be pleased to permit ye all to bear me company in death.'
'Oh! stay your prayer!' said the wife of the Durweish; 'this must not be; for if we all die at once, who will perform the funeral rites, and deposit our bodies in the earth?' The Durweish smiled at his wife's objection, and answered, 'This is of no consequence to us, dear wife: the body may be likened to a garment that is thrown off when old; the soul having worn its earthly covering for a season, at the appointed time shakes off the perishable piece of corruption, to enter into a purer state of existence. It matters not if the body have a burial or not; the soul takes no cognizance of the clay it has quitted. Yet, if it be a matter of great consideration with you, be assured that many pious men and Durweish, whose respect we have enjoyed in life, will not fail to give decent interment to the remains of those they have loved and respected.'
This for a moment baffled the wife in her argument; but presently she persuasively urged that her daughters were all young, that they had as yet seen but little of this world, and therefore it would be cruel to take them away so soon; they must desire to see more of this life ere they entered on another state of existence. 'Oh, my wife,' said the Durweish, 'you reason badly; this life hath no joys to be compared with those which the righteous man's hopes lead him to expect in the world beyond the grave. I will assuredly make my promised prayer, if I find a semblance of remaining grief upon separating from me at the appointed time, for our removal to perfect happiness.'
'No, no!' was cried by all the assembled family; 'do let us remain a little longer here, we are not in a hurry to quit this world.'—'Well, well, be satisfied then,' responded the Durweish, 'if such is your desire; and hereafter let me not hear a sigh or a murmur from one of you, for my appointed time is drawing to a close; if you will not accompany me, let me, at least, depart in peace.'
The people who relate this (and I have heard the anecdote from many) add, that the Durweish Shah Sherif ood deen Mah-mood died at the close of the third week, and on the day and hour he had predicted.
A grandson of this Durweish I have been writing about is still living in India, remarkable for a very retentive memory and propriety of life. I have not met with this gentleman during my residence in India, but have often heard his name mentioned with respect by Meer Hadjee Shaah who knew him well. He says that this Syaad, when but a boy, learned the whole Khoraun by heart[6] in the short space of forty days; he adds, that this person is exemplary in his life, and in his habits and manners humble; that he is truly a servant of God; rejects the mystic tenets of Soofieism; possesses an enlightened mind, and is a Moollah or Doctor of the Mussulmaun law. I have heard many singular anecdotes of his life, proving his disregard for riches, honours, and the vain pursuits of the worldly-minded. If I recollect right, he once was engaged in the confidential office of Moonshie to a highly talented gentleman at Fort William, from which employment he retired and took up his abode for some time at Lucknow; from whence, it was said, he went to Hydrabaad, where, it is probable, he may still be found in the exercise of a religious course of life. His name is respected by all the good men of his own persuasion, with whom I have been most intimately acquainted.
Conceiving the subject may be interesting to my friends, I will not offer any apology for introducing to your notice a female character of great merit, whose death occurred during my residence in the vicinity of her abode. I was induced to make memorandums of the circumstances which brought the knowledge of her virtues more immediately before the public.
Maulvee Meer Syaad Mahumud[7] succeeded, on the death of his father, in 1822, to the exalted position amongst Mussulmauns of head leader and expounder of the Mahumudan law in the city of Lucknow; he is a person of unassuming manners and extreme good sense, is an upright, honest-hearted, religious man, meriting and receiving the respect and good opinion of all his countrymen capable of appreciating the worthiness of his general deportment. He is esteemed the most learned person of the present age amongst Asiatic scholars; and occupies his time in study and devotion, and in giving gratuitous instruction to youth, at stated hours, in those laws which he makes his own rule of life. Neither is the good Maulvee's fame confined to the city in which he sojourns, as may be gathered from the following anecdote, which exhibits the upright principles of this worthy man, at the same time that it discloses the character of a very amiable female, whose charity was as unbounded as her memory is revered in Furrukhabaad.
'The late Nuwaub of Furrukhabaad[8] was first married to a lady of birth and good fortune, Villoiettee Begum,[9] by whom he was not blessed with a son; but he had other wives, one of whom bore him an heir, who at the present time enjoys the musnud of his father.
'Villoiettee Begum was beautiful in person, and possessed a heart of the most benevolent and rare kind; her whole delight was centred in the exercises of those duties which her religion inculcated; she spent much of her time in prayer, in acquiring a knowledge of the Khoraun, in acts of kindness to her fellow-creatures, and in strict abstinence.
'It was her unvaried custom at meals before she touched a morsel herself, to have twelve portions of food, selected from the choicest viands provided for her use, set apart for as many poor people; and when they had been served, she humbly and sparingly partook of the meal before her. She was possessed of great wealth, yet never expended any portion of it in the extravagances of dress; indeed, so humble was her appearance, that she might have been mistaken for the meanest of her slaves or domestics. It was her usual custom, whenever she purchased new clothing for her own wear, to lay in a large store for the poor; and it is affirmed, by those who were long intimate with the family, that a supplicant was never known to pass her door without relief. She even sought out, with the aid of a faithful domestic, the modest poor who were restrained by their feelings from intruding their necessities; and her liberal donations were distributed in so kind a manner, that even the pride of birth could never feel distressed when receiving her charitable assistance.
'This lady was much attached to the duties of her religion, and delighted in acquiring instruction from righteous persons of her own faith. She showered favours on all the poor who were reported to live in the fear of God; indeed, such was the liberality, benevolence, and unvaried charity of this good lady, that the news of her death was received by hundreds of people as their greatest earthly calamity. The example of this lady's character is the more enhanced by reflecting on the retired way in which she was reared and lived, restrained by the customs of her people within the high walls of a zeenahnah, without the advantages of a liberal education or the immediate society of intelligent people. She seems, by all accounts, to have been a most perfect pattern of human excellence.
'In forming her will (Villoiettee Begum had been a widow several years before her death), she does not appear to have wished a single thing to be done towards perpetuating her name,—as is usual with the great, in erecting lofty domes over the deposited clay of the Mussulmaun,—but her immense wealth was chiefly bequeathed in charitable gifts. The holy and the humble were equally remembered in its distribution. She had been acquainted with the virtues of the good Maulvee of Lucknow, to whom she left a handsome sum of money for his own use, and many valuable articles to fit up the Emaum-baarah for the service of Mahurrum, with a, desire that the same should be conveyed to him as soon after her death as convenient. Her vakeel (agent) wrote to Meer Syaad Mahumud very soon after the lady's death, to apprise him of the bequest Villoiettee Begum had willed to him, and at the same time forwarded the portable articles to him at Lucknow.
'The Maulvee was much surprised, and fancied there must be some mistake in the person for whom this legacy was intended, as the lady herself was entirely unknown to him, and an inhabitant of a station so remote from his own residence as not likely ever to have heard of him. He, however, replied to the vakeel, and wrote also to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, desiring to have a strict inquiry instituted before he could venture to accept the riches of this lady's bounty, presuming that even if he was the person alluded to in her will, that the Begum must have intended him as her almoner to the poor of Lucknow. The good, upright Maulvee acted on the integrity of his heart and desired a strict scrutiny might be instituted into the will of the deceased, which was accordingly made, and he was assured in reply, that Villoiettee Begum had been long acquainted with his worth, and in her liberal bequest she had decidedly intended the money for his sole use and benefit, in testimony of her respect for his virtuous character. The Maulvee again wrote and requested to be informed by those most intimate with the Begum's way of life, whether she had left unperformed any of the duties incumbent on a member of the faithful, as regards zuckhaut[10], pilgrimage, the fast, &c.? which not having accomplished, and having ample means, he felt himself bound, in the situation he held, to devote her legacy to the purpose of such duties by proxy (which their law commands) in her name. He was in reply assured that the good Begum had not omitted any part of her duty; she had regularly applied zuckhaut, duly performed the fast, had paid the expenses for poor pilgrims to Mecca (her substitutes); and not until all the scruples of the just Maulvec had been removed would he hear of, or accept the Begum's legacy.'
The anecdote I have now given will serve to illustrate the character of some good people of Hindoostaun of the present day; indeed, the veneration and respect paid by all classes to those men who lead religious lives, is but little changed from the earlier pages of the Mussulmaun history. I have just met with a Durweish anecdote, of former times, that may be worth transcribing, as I have received it from Meer Hadjee Shaah, whose aid I am so much indebted to for subjects with which to amuse my friends.
'Shaah ood Dowlah[11] was a Durweish who flourished in the reign of King Shah Jaluui at Delhi, but whose fame is known throughout India to the present day. The Durweish was remarkable for his activity of body. It is related, that he was often to be seen at prayer in Delhi, and in three hours after he had transported himself eighty miles oil without any visible assistance but his own personal activity on foot. This extraordinary rapidity of movement rendered him an object of veneration; and the general belief was, that he was highly favoured of Heaven, and gifted with supernatural power; the life he led was purely religious, with a total disregard of earthly riches.
'The King, Shah Jahan, was a very sensible person, and a great admirer of all that is counted good and excellent in his fellow-men; he was particularly friendly to such men as the Durweish, or others who devoted their lives to religious exercises. He had often heard of Shah ood Dowlah, without ever meeting with him, and on hearing of some singular acts of this Durweish, he was desirous of seeing him, and gave orders accordingly to his Minister, that messengers should be sent in search of the holy man, but as often as they appeared before the Durweish's hut he was invisible; this statement even added to the King's curiosity. On a certain day the King was seated on the story of his palace which overlooked the town and the outskirts beyond the walls, in conversation with his Minister and favourites, when the Durweish was espied at no great distance standing on the broadway; which, when the King knew, he desired messengers might be dispatched to convey the holy man to his presence. "Your royal will shall be obeyed", replied the Minister; "but your Majesty must be aware that the extent of the circuit from the palace to the outer gate is so great that long before a slave can get to that road, Shah ood Dowlah will be beyond the reach of our summons. With all due submission to your Majesty's better judgement, would it not be more prudent to call him from hence, and persuade him to ascend the wall in a basket suspended to a rope." The King agreed, and the Durweish was hailed. "Our King, the Protector of the World, commands Shah ood Dowlah's attendance?"—The Durweish, looking up at the summoner, inquired, "Where is the King?"—"In this apartment," he was answered.—"How am I to get near him? he is too far off: an old man does not well to climb."—"Wait a minute", replied the servant, "your conveyance shall be prepared."
'In a few minutes the basket descended from the upper story, by a strong rope, well secured against the probability of accident. The Durweish,—who was covered with a chudha[12], or sheet, to keep him from giddiness in the ascent,—seated himself firmly in the basket, and the servants drew him up in safety. He was immediately conveyed to the King's apartment; who, contrary to precedent, rose at his entrance to receive this respected and much-desired guest.
'"Pray be seated, my friend", said the King, leading him to the most honoured part of the royal carpet. The Durweish obeyed without a moment's hesitation, to the astonishment of the Vizier, nobles, courtiers, &c., who had never before seen a human being seated in the King's presence, not even one of the most exalted of the nobles. "I have long desired this happiness," said the King to the Durweish, "that I might converse with you. "—"Your Majesty is very gracious to the poor Durweish", was responded. "I hear much of your great virtue and good life," said the King, "from the world, my subjects."—"They do but flatter the poor Durweish," was his reply; adding, "none can tell what passes in my heart, when they view only my face. I am but a poor Durweish."
'"I have many questions to ask you," said the King, "which I hope to have resolved from your own mouth; but, first, I beg to be informed, what methods you have used in order to acquire that command over selfish feelings, which is displayed in your intercourse with the world? and by what means you have become so enlightened in the ways pleasing to God?"
'The Durweish with a smile of pleasure, and in language calm as respectful, answered in the following words:—"Your Majesty, the Protector of the World, was desirous of becoming personally known to the very meanest of your subjects, the poor Durweish; the opportunity arrived, and you condescended to let down a line of rope to assist your poor subject in the ascent to your presence. With equal condescension you have seated me by your side; and I, the poor Durweish, feel a due sense of the honour conferred on me. Had I been anxious to gain admittance to the Protector of the World, many would have been the difficulties to surmount; your castle is well guarded, your gates innumerable to be passed ere this place could be reached, and who would have aided the poor Durweish's wishes? But your Majesty had the will, and the power to effect that will; whilst I, who had neither, might have exerted myself for ages without effect. Such then, O King! is the way God draws those whom He wills unto Him. He sees into the hidden recesses of the human heart, and knows every working of mortal minds; He has no difficulty to surmount; for to whom in His mercy He grants evidence of His love, He draws them to Himself in heart, in soul, in mind, with infinitely less effort than thou hast exerted to draw my mortal body within thy palace. It is God who in love and mercy throws the line to man; happy that soul who accepts the offered means, by which he may ascend!"'
Meer Nizaam ood deen[13] lived many years at Lucknow, where he was much esteemed by the religious men of the time; some who survived him have frequently entertained me with anecdotes of that respected Durweish. Out of the many I have heard detailed by them, I have selected for this place a few of the most interesting:—
A certain King of Delhi (whose name has escaped my recollection) having heard of the remarkable piety of this Durweish, expressed a great desire to see him, and the message was conveyed by a confidential person, instructed to say to the holy man, that his presence was solicited as a favour at Court. The person intrusted with the royal message, remarked to Meer Nizaam, when he had agreed to accompany him, that his mean apparel was not suited to appear in the presence of majesty, and offered to provide him with a superior dress.
The Durweish looked steadily in the face of the proposer, and addressed him, 'Friend! know you not, that clad in these very garments you deride, I make my daily prayers to Him who is the Creator and Lord of the whole earth, and all that therein is? If I am not ashamed to appear in the presence of my God thus habited, canst thou think I shall deem it needful to change my garments for one who is, at best but the creature of my Creator? Thinkest thou I would pay more deference to my fellow-man than I have done to my God? No, no; be assured the clothes I wear will not be changed for earthly visits.'
This Durweish had a mind and heart so entirely devoted to his Creator, and was so thoroughly purified from earthly vanity, that his every wish was granted as soon as it had been formed in his heart, says one of his many admirers, Meer Eloy Bauxh[14]; who, in proof that he was so gifted, relates the following anecdote which I give in his own words:—
'One day I was conversing with the Durweish, Meer Nizaam, when he told me he could bring me to his door, from my own home, at any hour or time he pleased. I was a little wavering in my belief of his power to do so, and offered some remarks that indicated my doubts. "Well," said he in reply, "you shall be convinced, my friend, ere long, I promise you."
'A few evenings after this conversation had been held, I was seated on my charpoy, in meditation,—my usual practice after the evening namaaz,—when a sudden impulse seized my mind, that I must immediately go off to the Durweish who lived at the opposite extremity of this large city (Lucknow). I prepared to set out, and by the time I was ready, the rain burst forth in torrents from the over-charged clouds. Still the impulse was so strong that I cared not for this impediment even, which under ordinary circumstances would have deterred me from venturing out on a dark evening of storm; I wrapped myself up in my labaadah[15], took a stick and umbrella, and sallied forth in great haste. On reaching the outer gate of my premises, the strong, feeling that had impelled me to proceed, vanished from my mind, and I was as strongly urged by an opposite impulse to retire again within my own habitation, where, if I reasoned at all, it was on the unusual changeableness of my fixed resolution, for I never thought about the subject of the Durweish's prediction at the time.
'Some few days after this, I paid Meer Nizaam a visit, and after our usual embrace and salutations were over, he said to me, "Well, my friend, are you convinced by this time, that I have the power to bring you to me whenever I wish, by the preparations you made for coming on the evening of such a day?" (mentioning the time and hour accurately).
'"I remember well my desire to visit you, but why was I deterred from my purpose?" I asked. The Durweish replied, "Out of pure compassion for the fatigue and pains it would have given you, had you come so far on such a night of rain and tempest. My pity for you altered my wishes, and thereby your purposes. I only wished you to be convinced, and perhaps you are so now."'
Meer Eloy Bauxh often speaks of this circumstance, and declares he has full confidence that the Durweish in question possessed the power of influencing the minds of others, or attracting them by his wishes to appear before him.
'This Durweish was once applied to by a Mussulmaun, who went regularly for many days in succession, to watch a favourable moment for soliciting advice and assistance in his then uneasy state of mind. The Mussulmaun's name was Hummoon[16], since designated Shah, a native of the Upper Provinces of Hindoostaun, in the Lahore district. Hummoon occasionally passing near the river, had frequently observed, amongst, the number of Hindoo women, on their way to and from the place of bathing, one young female whose charms riveted his attention. He sometimes fancied that the girl smiled on him; but aware of the strong prejudices of her caste, which prohibits intercourse even, much less marriage, with men of another persuasion, he loved therefore without hope; yet he could not resist, as the opportunity offered, of again and again watching for a glance at the beautiful Hindoo whose person had won his entire affections. Not a word had ever passed between them, but he fancied she sometimes returned his looks of love in her smiles.
'The passion of Hummoon increased daily; he could with difficulty restrain himself within the prescribed bounds; he longed to address her, and in vain puzzled his imagination for the proper means to adopt, for he knew the edict of her caste had placed a barrier between them of an insurmountable nature. For months he endured all the torments of his perplexing state, and at last resolved on applying to the good Durweish for advice and assistance, whose famed powers had been long the subject of admiration among the Mussulmauns.