Mevlānā Jelālu-’d-Dīn Muhammed, the Revered Mystery of God upon Earth.10
Jelālu-’d-Dīn is related to have been born at Balkh on the 6th of Rebī’u-’l-evvel,A.H.604 (29th September 1207).
When five years old, he used at times to become extremely uneasy and restless, so much so that his attendants used to take him into the midst of themselves.
The cause of these perturbations was that spiritual forms and shapes of the absent (invisible world) would arise before his sight, that is, angelic messengers, righteous genii, and saintly men—the concealed ones of the bowers of the True One (spiritual spouses of God), used to appear to him in bodily shape, exactly as the cherubim and seraphim used to show themselves to the holy apostle of God, Muhammed, in the earlier days, before his call to the prophetic office; as Gabriel appeared to Mary, and as the four angels were seen by Abraham and Lot; as well as others to other prophets.
His father, Bahā’u-’d-Dīn Veled, the Sultānu-’l-‘Ulemā, used on these occasions to coax and soothe him by saying: “These are the Occult Existences. They come to present themselves before you, to offer unto you gifts and presents from the invisible world.”
These ecstasies and transports of his began to be publicly known and talked about; and the affectionatelyhonorific title of Khudāvendgār, by which he is so often mentioned, was conferred upon him at this time by his father, who used to address him and speak of him by this title, as “My Lord.”
His son, Sultan Veled, related that there was a paper in the handwriting of his father, Bahā Veled, which set forth that at Balkh, when Jelāl was six years old, he was taking the air one Friday, on the terraced roof of the house, and reciting the Qur’ān, when some other children of good families came in and joined him there.
After a time, one of these children proposed that they should try and jump from thence on to a neighbouring terrace, and should lay wagers on the result.
Jelāl smiled at this childish proposal, and remarked: “My brethren, to jump from terrace to terrace is an act well adapted for cats, dogs, and the like, to perform; but is it not degrading to man, whose station is so superior? Come now, if you feel disposed, let us spring up to the firmament, and visit the regions of God’s realm.” As he yet spake, he vanished from their sight.
Frightened at Jelāl’s sudden disappearance, the other children raised a shout of dismay, that some one should come to their assistance; when lo, in an instant, there he was again in their midst; but with an altered expression of countenance and blanched cheeks. They all uncovered before him, fell to the earth in humility, and all declared themselves his disciples.
He now told them that, as he was yet speaking to them, a company of visible forms, clad in green raiment, had led him away from them, and had conducted him about the various concentric orbs of the spheres, and through the signs of the Zodiac, showing him the wonders of the world of spirits, and bringing him back to them so soon as their cries had reached his ears.
At that age, he was used not to break his fast moreoften than once in three or four, and sometimes even seven, days.
A different witness, a disciple of Jelāl’s father, related that Bahā Veled frequently affirmed publicly that his Lord, Jelāl, was of exalted descent, being of the lineage of a king, and also of an hereditary saint.
His maternal grandmother was a daughter of the great Imām Es-Sarakhsī11(died at DamascusA.H.571,A.D.1175), who was of the lineage of the Prophet. The mother of Es-Sarakhsī was descended from the Caliph ‘Alī; and Jelāl’s paternal grandmother was a daughter of the King of Kh’ārezm, who resided at Balkh.
Jelāl’s paternal great-great-grandmother, also, the mother of Ahmed, El-Khatībī, grandfather of Jelāl’s father, was a daughter of a king of Balkh. These particulars establish that Jelāl was well descended on both sides, in a mundane and in a spiritual sense. The well-known proverb—
“Hereditary disposition ever insinuates itself,”
proved fully true in his most illustrious case.
When Jelāl was seven years old, he used every morning to recite the very short chapter, cviii., of the Qur’ān—
“Verily we have given unto thee the abounding good. Therefore, do thou perform thy devotions unto thy Lord, and slaughter victims. Verily, he who evil entreateth thee is one who shall leave no issue after him.”
He used to weep as he recited these inspired words.
Suddenly, God one day vouchsafed to appear to him visibly. On this he fainted away. Regaining consciousness, he heard a voice from heaven, that said—
“O Jelālu-’d-Dīn! By the majesty (jelāl) of Our glory, do thou henceforward cease to combat with thyself; for We have exalted thee to the station of ocular vision.”
Jelāl vowed, therefore, out of gratitude for this mark of grace, to serve the Lord to the end of his days, to the utmost of his power; in the firm hope that they who followed him would also attain to that high grade of favour and excellence.
Two years after the death of his father, Jelāl went from Qonya to Haleb (Aleppo) to study. (This account is altogether subversive, as to time and date, of that already given in chap. ii. No. 3.)
As he was known to be a son of Bahā’u-’d-Dīn Veled, and was also an apt scholar, his professor showed him every attention.
Others were offended, and evinced their jealousy at the preference thus accorded to him. They complained to the governor of the city that Jelāl was immoral, as he was in the habit, each night, of quitting his cell at midnight for some unknown purpose. The governor resolved to see and judge for himself. He therefore hid himself in the porter’s room.
At midnight, Jelāl came forth from his room, and went straight to the locked gate of the college, watched by the governor. The gate flew open; and Jelāl, followed at a distance by the governor, went through the streets to the locked city gate. This, too, opened of itself; and again both passed forth.
They went on and came to the tomb of Abraham (at Hebron, about 350 miles distant), the “Friend of the All-Merciful.” There a domed edifice was seen, filled with a large company of forms in green raiment, who came forth to meet Jelāl, and conducted him into the building.
The governor hereupon lost his senses through fright, and did not recover until after the sun had risen.
Now, he could see nothing of a domed edifice, nor one single human being. He wandered about on a tracklessplain for three days and three nights, hungry, thirsty, and footsore. At length he sank under his sufferings.
Meanwhile, the porter of the college had given intelligence of the governor’s pursuit after Jelāl. When his officers found that he did not return, they sent a numerous party of guards to seek him. These, on the second day, met Jelāl. He told them where they would find their master. The next day, late, they came up with him, found him to be nearly dead, and brought him home.
The governor became a sincere convert, and a disciple to Jelāl for ever after.
(A parallel tale is told of Jelāl’s fetching water from the Tigris for his father by night when he was a little child at Bagdad. There, too, all the gates opened to him of themselves.)
It is related that the Seyyid Burhānu-’d-Dīn was often heard to narrate that, when Jelāl was a child, the Seyyid was his governor and tutor. He had often taken Jelāl up on his shoulder, and so carried him to the empyrean. “But now,” he would add, “Jelāl has attained to such eminence of station that he carries me up.” These sayings of the Seyyid were repeated to Jelāl, who confirmed them with the remark: “It is quite true; and a hundredfold more also; the services rendered to me by that man are infinite.”
When Jelāl went to Damascus to study, he passed by Sīs in Upper Cilicia. There, in a cave, dwelt forty Christian monks, who had a great reputation for sanctity, but in reality were mere jugglers.
On the approach of Jelāl’s caravan to the cave, the monks caused a little boy to ascend into the air, and there remain standing between heaven and earth.
Jelāl noticed this exhibition, and fell into a reverie. Hereupon, the child began to weep and wail, saying thatthe man in the reverie was frightening him. The monks told him not to be afraid, but to come down. “Oh!” cried the child, “I am as though nailed here, unable to move hand or foot.”
The monks became alarmed. They flocked around Jelāl, and begged him to release the child. After a time, he seemed to hear and understand them. His answer was: “Only through the acceptance of Islām by yourselves, all of you, as well as by the child, can he be saved.”
In the end they all embraced Islām, and wished to follow Jelāl as his disciples. He recommended them, however, to remain in their cave, as before, to cease from practising jugglery, and to serve God in the spirit and in truth. So he proceeded on his journey.
Jelāl remained seven years, or four years, at Damascus; and there he first saw his great friend Shemsu-’d-Dīn of Tebrīz, clothed in his noted black felt and peculiar cap. Shems addressed him; but he turned away, and mixed in the crowd. Soon afterwards, he returned to Qonya by way of Qaysariyya. At this latter place, under the guiding supervision of his spiritual teacher, the Seyyid Burhānu-’d-Dīn, Jelāl fasted three consecutive periods of forty days each,12with only a pot of water and two or three loaves of barley bread. He showed no signs of suffering. Burhān now pronounced him perfect in all science, patent and occult, human and spiritual. (Compare chap. ii. No. 3.)
In the yearA.H.642 (A.D.1244), Shemsu-’d-Dīn of Tebrīz came to Qonya.
This great man, after acquiring a reputation of superiorsanctity at Tebrīz, as the disciple of a certain holy man, a basket-maker by trade, had travelled about much in various lands, in search of the best spiritual teachers, thus gaining the nickname of Perenda (theFlier,Bird, &c.).
He prayed to God that it might be revealed to him who was the most occult of the favourites of the divine will, so that he might go to him and learn still more of the mysteries of divine love.
The son of Bahā’u-’d-Dīn Veled, of Balkh, was designated to him as the man most in favour with God. Shems went, accordingly, to Qonya; arriving there on Saturday, the 26th of Jemādà-’l-ākhir,A.H.642 (DecemberA.D.1244). He engaged a lodging at an inn, and pretended to be a great merchant. In his room, however, there was nothing but a broken water-pot, an old mat, and a bolster of unbaked clay. He broke his fast once in every ten or twelve days, with a damper soaked in broth of sheep’s trotters.
One day, as he was seated at the gate of the inn, Jelāl came by, riding on a mule, in the midst of a crowd of students and disciples on foot.
Shemsu-’d-Dīn arose, advanced, and took hold of the mule’s bridle, addressing Jelāl in these words: “Exchanger of the current coins of recondite significations, who knowest the names of the Lord! Tell me: Was Muhammed the greater servant of God, or Bāyezīd of Bestām?”
Jelāl answered him: “Muhammed was incomparably the greater—the greatest of all prophets and all saints.”
“Then,” rejoined Shemsu-’d-Dīn, “how is it that Muhammed said: ‘We have not known Thee, O God, as Thou rightly shouldest be known,’ whereas Bāyezīd said: ‘Glory unto me! How very great is my glory’?”
On hearing this question, Jelāl fainted away. On recovering his consciousness, he took his new acquaintance home with him. They were closeted together for weeks or months in holy communications.
Jelāl’s disciples at length became impatient, raising afearful and threatening tumult; so that, on Thursday, the 21st of Shewwāl,A.H.643 (MarchA.D.1246), Shemsu-’d-Dīn mysteriously disappeared; and Jelāl adopted, as a sign of mourning for his loss, the drab hat and wide cloak since worn by the dervishes of his order.
It was about this time, also, that he first instituted the musical services observed by that order, as they perform their peculiar waltzing. All men took to music and dancing in consequence. Fanatics objected, out of envy. They said Jelāl was gone mad, even as the chiefs of Mekka had said of old of the Prophet. His supposed malady was attributed to the malefic influence of Shemsu-’d-Dīn of Tebrīz.
The widow of Jelāl, Kirā (orGirā) Khātūn, a model of virtue, the Mary of her age, is related to have seen, through a chink in the door of the room where he and Shems were closeted in spiritual communion, that the wall suddenly opened, and six men of majestic mien entered by the cleft.
These strangers, who were of the occult saints, saluted, bowed, and laid a nosegay at the feet of Jelāl, although it was then in the depth of the midwinter season. They remained until near the hour of dawn worship, when they motioned to Shemsu-’d-Dīn to act as leader on the occasion of the service. He excused himself, and Jelāl performed the office. The service of worship over, the six strangers took leave, and passed out by the same cleft in the wall.
Jelāl now came forth from the chamber, bringing the nosegay in his hand. Seeing his wife in the passage, he gave her the nosegay, saying that the strangers had brought it as an offering to her.
The next day, she sent her servant, with a few leaves from her nosegay, to the perfumers’ mart of the city, to inquire what might be the flowers composing it, as she had never seen their like before. The merchants were all equally astonished; no one had ever seen such leaves.At length, however, a spice merchant from India, who was then sojourning in Qonya, saw those leaves, and knew them to be the petals of a flower that grows in the south of India, in the neighbourhood of Ceylon.
The wonder now was: How did these Indian flowers get to Qonya; and in the depth of winter, too?
The servant carried the leaves back, and reported to his lady what he had learnt. This increased her astonishment a hundredfold. Just then Jelāl made his appearance, and enjoined on her to take the greatest care of the nosegay, as it had been sent to her by the florists of the lost earthly paradise, through those Indian saints, as a special offering.
It is related that she preserved them as long as she lived, merely giving a few leaves, with Jelāl’s express permission, to the Georgian wife of the king. If any one suffered with any disease of the eyes, one leaf from that nosegay, applied to the ailing part, was an instant cure. The flowers never lost their fragrance or freshness. What is musk compared with such?
To prove that man lives through God’s will alone, and not by blood, Jelāl one day, in the presence of a crowd of physicians and philosophers, had the veins of both his arms opened, and allowed them to bleed until they ceased to flow. He then ordered incisions to be made in various parts of his body; but not one drop of moisture was anywhere obtainable. He now went to a hot bath, washed, performed an ablution, and then commenced the exercise of the sacred dance.
One of Jelāl’s disciples died, and there was a consultation among his friends as to whether he should be buried in a coffin or without one.
Another disciple, after Jelāl had been consulted, and hadtold them to do as they pleased, made the observation that it would be better to bury their relative without a coffin. On being asked why, he answered: “A mother can better nurse her child, than can her child’s brother. The earth is the mother of the human race, and the wood of a coffin is also the earth’s child; therefore, the coffin is the man’s brother. Man’s corpse should be committed, then, not to a coffin, but to mother earth, his loving, affectionate parent.”
Jelāl expressed his admiration for this apposite and sublime doctrine, which, he said, was not to be found written in any then extant book.
The name of the disciple who made this beautiful remark was Kerīmu-’d-Dīn, son of Begh-Tīmūr.
Many of the chief disciples of Jelāl have related that he himself explained to them, as his reasons for instituting the musical service of his order, with their dancing, the following reflections:—
“God has a great regard for the Roman people. In answer to a prayer of the first Caliph, Abū-Bekr, God made the Romans a chief receptacle of His mercy; and the land of the Romans (Asia Minor) is the most beautiful on the face of the earth. But the people of the land were utterly void of all idea of the riches of a love towards God, and of the remotest shade of a taste for the delights of the inner, spiritual life. The great Causer of all causes caused a source of affection to arise, and out of the wilderness of causelessness raised a means by which I was attracted away from the land of Khurāsān to the country of the Romans. That country He made a home for my children and posterity, in order that, with the elixir of His grace, the copper of their existences might be transmuted into gold and into philosopher-stone, they themselves being received into the communion of saints. When I perceived that they had no inclination for the practice of religious austerities, and no knowledge of the divine mysteries, I imagined to arrange metrical exhortations and musical services, as being captivating for men’s minds, and more especially so for the Romans, who are naturally of a lively disposition, and fond of incisive expositions. Even as a sick child is coaxed into taking a salutary, though nauseous medicine, so, in like manner, were the Romans led by art to acquire a taste for spiritual truth.”
As an instance of the great value attached to the poetry of Jelāl, the following anecdote is related:—
Shemsu-’d-Dīn Hindī, (Prince of Shīrāz in the province of Fars, Southern Persia), wrote a flattering letter to the renowned poet, Sheykh Sa’dī, of Shīrāz (who livedA.H.571-691,A.D.1175-1291, and was consequently a contemporary of Jelāl’s), begging him to select the best ode, with the most sublime thoughts, that he knew of as existing in Persian, and to send it to him, for presentation to the great Khān of the Moguls (who then ruled over nearly all Asia).
It so happened that the ode by Jelāl had just become known at Shīrāz, which commences:—
“Divine love’s voice each instant left and right is heard to sound,We’re bound for heaven. To witness our departure who’ll be found?”
“Divine love’s voice each instant left and right is heard to sound,We’re bound for heaven. To witness our departure who’ll be found?”
“Divine love’s voice each instant left and right is heard to sound,We’re bound for heaven. To witness our departure who’ll be found?”
“Divine love’s voice each instant left and right is heard to sound,
We’re bound for heaven. To witness our departure who’ll be found?”
This ode had captivated the minds of all the men of culture in the city; and this ode Sa’dī selected, wrote it out, and sent it to the prince, with the remark: “A monarch, of auspicious advent, has sprung up in the land of Rome, from whose privacy these are some of the breathings. Never have more beautiful words been uttered, and never will be. Would that I could go to Rome, and rub my face in the dust under his feet!”
The prince thanked Sa’dī exceedingly, and sent him valuable presents in return. Eventually, Sa’dī did go to“Rome,” arrived in Qonya, and had the gratification to kiss the hand of Jelāl. He was well received in that city by the dervish circle.
The prince was himself a disciple of Sheykh ... ’d-Dīn, of Bakharz (in Khurāsān, about midway between Tūrshīz and Herāt), to whom he sent a copy of the ode, to learn what the Sheykh would think of it. All the learned men of Bakharz assembled round the Sheykh. He read the ode attentively, and then burst out into exclamations of the wildest delight and most fervid admiration, rending his garments, and acting as though mad. At length he calmed down and said: “O wonderful man! O thou champion of the Faith! Thou pole of the heavens and of the earth! Verily, thou art a wonderful Sultan, who hast appeared on earth! In good sooth, all the Sheykhs of bygone ages who were seers, have been frustrated in not having seen this man! They would have supplicated the Lord of Truth to allow them to meet him! But it was not to be; and this mercy will last until the end of time, as has been sung:—
“A fortune, by the men of ancient times in dreams long sought,Has been vouchsafed to modern men; without their efforts caught.”
“A fortune, by the men of ancient times in dreams long sought,Has been vouchsafed to modern men; without their efforts caught.”
“A fortune, by the men of ancient times in dreams long sought,Has been vouchsafed to modern men; without their efforts caught.”
“A fortune, by the men of ancient times in dreams long sought,
Has been vouchsafed to modern men; without their efforts caught.”
“One ought to put on ironed shoes, and take in hand an ironed staff, to set out at once and visit this great light. I make it a legacy to all my friends to do so without the least delay, if they have the means and the strength, so as to achieve the happiness and secure the honour of making the acquaintance of this prince, so obtaining the grace and favour of hearing him. His father, Bahā Veled, and his ancestors, were great Sheykhs and most illustrious; their great progenitor having been the first Caliph, Abū-Bekr, the glorious Confirmer of the truth spoken by the Apostle of God. I am myself old and infirm, unequal to the fatigues of travel. Otherwise, I would have walked, not on the soles of my feet, but on the tips of my great toes, to visit that eminent man.”
The Sheykh’s eldest son, Muzahhiru-’d-Dīn, was there present. To him the Sheykh addressed himself, saying: “My son, I do hope that thy eyes will behold this sacred visage; and, if God so will, convey to him my salutation and my respects.”
After the death of the old man, his son went to Rome, had the felicity to see Jelāl, and presented his father’s message. He returned to Bakharz; but it is said that a son of his lies buried at Qonya.
Kirā Khātūn, the widow of Jelāl, is reported to have related to a friend that there was in their household a candlestick of the height of a man, before which Jelāl used to stand on foot the night through, until daydawn, studying the writings of his father.
One night, a company of the genii, dwellers in the college where Jelāl and his wife lived, appeared to her in a body, to complain of the great inconvenience and suffering to which they were subjected by this practice of Jelāl’s, and saying: “We can put up with it no longer. Take care, lest we do a mischief to some one in the college.”
The lady reported this complaint of the genii to her husband. He merely smiled, and took no further notice of the matter for several days.
At the end of that time, however, he spoke of it, and told his wife to trouble herself no more about the threat of the genii, as he had converted them all. They had become disciples of his, and would certainly do no harm to any friend or dependent of their teacher.
It was related by one of the chief of Jelāl’s disciples, a butcher by trade, a trainer of dogs for the chase, and a purveyor of horses of the best kind, which he used to sell to princes and grandees at high prices, that, at a certaintime, Jelāl was much exercised by visions from the spiritual world, so that for forty days he was as though beside himself, passing through the streets with his head bare, and his turban twisted round his neck.
After that, he came suddenly one day, bathed in perspiration, to the butcher, and said he wanted a certain unbroken horse to be saddled for him immediately. The butcher, with the help of three stable-men, managed with the utmost difficulty to saddle the horse and bring him out. Jelāl mounted him without opposition, and set off in a southerly direction. The butcher asked whether he should accompany him, and Jelāl replied: “Give me your prayers and holy good wishes.”
In the evening Jelāl returned covered with dust. The poor horse, though of gigantic frame, was reduced to mere skin and bone, being nearly broken-backed with fatigue.
The next day he came again, and asked for another horse, better than the one of yesterday, mounted it, and rode off. He returned at the hour of sunset devotions, and this horse also was reduced to a pitiable condition. The butcher dared not offer a word of remonstrance.
On the third day he came again, mounted a third horse, and returned as before, at sunset. He sat down now in the most composed manner possible, and called out cheerily: “Good news! Glad tidings, O ye of the Faith! That dog of hell has gone back to his pit of fire!”
The butcher was too much astonished at his manner to feel any inclination to inquire what these words might mean; but a certain number of days afterwards, a large caravan came into Qonya from Syria, and brought news that the Mogul army had besieged Damascus, and had reduced it to straits.
Helaw Khan (Holagu, Helagu) had taken Bagdad inA.H.655 (A.D.1257-58). Two years later,A.H.657 (A.D.1259-60), he advanced against Aleppo and Syria, sending his general, Ketbuga, against Damascus with a numerous army. He laid siege to the city. But the inhabitantswitnessed, with their very own eyes, that Jelāl came and joined himself there to the forces of Islām. He inflicted defeat on the Mogul forces, who were compelled to retreat, totally frustrated.
The butcher was overjoyed at this welcome intelligence, and went forthwith to communicate the news to Jelāl. The latter smilingly replied: “Yes, yes! Jelālu-’d-Dīn was the horseman who obtained a victory over the enemy, and showed himself a Sultan in the eyes of the people of Islām.” On hearing this, his disciples rent the air with their shouts of joy and triumph, and the townspeople of Qonya decked out and illuminated the city, holding public rejoicings.
This miracle of power became noised abroad, and everywhere Jelāl’s friends and adherents were transported with ecstasy at its occurrence.
On one occasion a rich merchant of Tebrīz came to Qonya. He inquired of his agents there who was the most eminent man of learning and piety in the city, as he wished to go and pay his respects to him. He remarked to them: “It is not merely for the sake of making money that I travel about in every country on earth; I desire also to make the acquaintance of every man of eminence I can find in each city.”
His correspondents told him that the Sheykhu-’l-Islām of the capital had a great reputation for learning and piety, and that they would be proud to present him to that celebrated luminary. Accordingly, he selected a number of rarities from among his store, to the value of thirty sequins; and the party set out to visit the great lawyer.
The merchant found the dignitary lodged in a great palace, with guards at the gate, crowds of servants and attendants in the courtyard, and eunuchs, pages, grooms, ushers, chamberlains, and the like, in the halls.
Turning to his conductors, he expressed some doubt asto whether they had not, by mistake, brought him to the king’s palace. They quieted his fears, and led him into the presence of the great fountain of legal erudition. He felt a very great dislike for all he saw; and he remarked to his friends: “A great lawyer is never anything the worse for possessing a clear conscience. A physician may himself indulge in sweetmeats; but he does not prescribe them to a patient suffering with fever.”
He now offered his presents; and then inquired of the great lawyer whether he could solve a doubt under which he was then labouring. This he stated as follows:—“Of late, I have been sustaining a series of losses. Can you indicate a way by which I may escape from that unfortunate position? I give, every year, the fortieth part of my liable possessions to the poor; and I distribute alms besides, to the extent of my power. I cannot conceive, therefore, why I am unfortunate.”
Other remarks he made also to the same effect. They appeared to be lost on the great luminary, who affected to be otherwise preoccupied. At length the merchant took leave without obtaining a solution to his difficulty.
The day following he inquired of his friends whether there did not chance to be, in the great city, some poor mendicant of exemplary piety, to whom he might offer his respects, and from whom he might, haply, learn what he longed to know, together with advice that would be of service to him. They answered: “Just such a man as thou describest is our Lord, Jelālu-’d-Dīn. He has forsaken all pleasures, save only his love towards God. Not only has he given up all concern for worldly matters, he has also renounced all care as to a future state. He passes his nights, as well as his days, in the worship of God; and he is a very ocean of knowledge in all temporal and spiritual subjects.”
The Tebrīz merchant was enchanted with this information. He begged to see that holy man, the bare mention of whose virtues had filled him with delight. Theyaccordingly conducted him to the college of Jelāl, the merchant having privately furnished himself with a rouleau of fifty sequins in gold as his offering to the saint.
When they reached the college, Jelāl was sitting alone in the lecture-hall, immersed in the study of some books. The party made their obeisances, and the merchant felt himself completely overpowered at the aspect of the venerable teacher; so that he burst into tears, and could not utter a word. Jelāl addressed him, therefore, as follows:—
“The fifty sequins thou hast provided as thy offering are accepted. But better for thee than these are the two hundred sequins thou hast lost. God, whose glory be exalted, had determined to visit thee with a sore judgment and a heavy trial; but, through this thy visit here, He hath pardoned thee, and the trial is averted from thee. Be not dismayed. From this day forth thou shalt not suffer loss; and that which thou hast already suffered shall be made up to thee.”
The merchant was equally astonished and delighted at these words; more so, however, when Jelāl proceeded with his discourse: “The cause and reason of thy bygone losses and misfortunes was, that, on a certain day thou wast in the west of Firengistān (Europe), where thou wentest into a certain ward of a certain city, and there sawest a poor Firengī (European) man, one of the greatest of God’s cherished saints, who was lying stretched out at the corner of a market-place. As thou didst pass by him, thou spattest on him, evincing aversion from him. His heart was grieved by thy act and demeanour. Hence the visitations that have afflicted thee. Go thou, then, and make thy peace with him, asking his forgiveness, and offering him our salutations.”
The merchant was petrified at this announcement. Jelāl then asked him: “Wilt thou that we this instant show him to thee?” So saying, he placed his hand on the wall of the apartment, and told the merchant tobehold. Instantly, a doorway opened in the wall, and the merchant thence perceived that man in Firengistān, lying down in a market-place. At this sight he bowed down his head and rent his garments, coming away from the saintly presence in a state of stupor. He remembered all these incidents as facts.
Immediately commencing his preparations, he set out without delay, and reached the city in question. He inquired for the ward he wished to visit, and for the man whom he had offended. Him he discovered lying down, stretched out as Jelāl had shown him. The merchant dismounted from his beast, and made his obeisance to the prostrate Firengī dervish, who at once addressed him thus: “What wilt thou that I do? Our Lord Jelāl suffereth me not; or otherwise, I had a desire to make thee see the power of God, and what I am. But now, draw near.”
The Firengī dervish then clasped the merchant to his bosom, kissed him repeatedly on both cheeks, and then added: “Look now, that thou mayest see my Lord and Teacher, my spiritual Master, and that thou mayest witness a marvel.” The merchant looked. He saw the Lord Jelāl immersed in a holy dance, chanting this hymn, and entranced with sacred music:—
“His kingdom’s vast and pure; each sort its fitting place finds there;Cornelian, ruby, clod, or pebble be thou on His hill.Believe, He seeks thee; disbelieve, He’ll haply cleanse thee fair;Be here a faithful Abū-Bekr; Firengī there; at will.”
“His kingdom’s vast and pure; each sort its fitting place finds there;Cornelian, ruby, clod, or pebble be thou on His hill.Believe, He seeks thee; disbelieve, He’ll haply cleanse thee fair;Be here a faithful Abū-Bekr; Firengī there; at will.”
“His kingdom’s vast and pure; each sort its fitting place finds there;Cornelian, ruby, clod, or pebble be thou on His hill.Believe, He seeks thee; disbelieve, He’ll haply cleanse thee fair;Be here a faithful Abū-Bekr; Firengī there; at will.”
“His kingdom’s vast and pure; each sort its fitting place finds there;
Cornelian, ruby, clod, or pebble be thou on His hill.
Believe, He seeks thee; disbelieve, He’ll haply cleanse thee fair;
Be here a faithful Abū-Bekr; Firengī there; at will.”
When the merchant happily reached Qonya on his return, he gave the salutations of the Firengī saint, and his respects, to Jelāl; and distributed much substance among the disciples. He settled at Qonya, and became a member of the fraternity of the Pure Lovers of God.
Jelāl was one day passing by a street, where two men were quarrelling. He stood on one side. One of themen called out to the other: “Say what thou will; thou shalt hear from me a thousandfold for every word thou mayest utter.”
Hereupon Jelāl stepped forward and addressed this speaker, saying: “No, no! Whatsoever thou have to say, say it to me; and for every thousand thou mayest say to me, thou shalt hear from me one word.”
On hearing this rebuke, the adversaries were abashed, and made their peace with one another.
One day, a very learned professor brought all his pupils to pay their respects to Jelāl.
On their way to him, the young men agreed together to put some questions to Jelāl on certain points of Arabic grammar, with the design of comparing his knowledge in that science with that of their professor, whom they looked upon as unequalled.
When they were seated, Jelāl addressed them on various fitting subjects for a while, and thereby paved the way for the following anecdote:—
“An ingenuous jurist was once travelling with an Arabic grammarian, and they chanced to come to a ruinous well.
“The jurist hereupon began to recite the text (of Qur’ān xxii. 44): ‘And of a ruined well.’
“The Arabic word for ‘well’ he pronounced ‘bīr,’ with the vowel long. To this the grammarian instantly objected, telling the jurist to pronounce that word with a short vowel and hiatus—bi’r, so as to be in accord with the requirements of classical purity.
“A dispute now arose between the two on the point. It lasted all the rest of the day, and well on into a pitchy dark night; every author being ransacked by them, page by page, each sustaining his own theory of the word. No conclusion was arrived at, and each disputant remained of his own opinion still.
“It so happened in the dark, that the grammarian slippedinto the well, and fell to the bottom. There he set up a wail of entreaty: ‘O my most courteous fellow-traveller, lend thy help to extricate me from this most darksome pit.’
“The jurist at once expressed his most pleasurable willingness to lend him that help, with only one trifling condition—that he should confess himself in error, and consent to suppress the hiatus in the word ‘bi’r.’ The grammarian’s answer was ‘Never.’ So in the well he remained.”
“Now,” said Jelāl, “to apply this to yourselves. Unless you will consent to cast out from your hearts the ‘hiatus’ of indecision and of self-love, you can never hope to escape from the noisome pit of self-worship,—the well of man’s nature and of fleshly lusts. The dungeon of ‘Joseph’s well’ in the human breast is this very ‘self-worship;’ and from it you will not escape, nor will you ever attain to those heavenly regions—‘the spacious land of God’” (Qur’ān iv. 99, xxix. 56, xxxix. 13).
On hearing these pregnant words, the whole assembly of undergraduates uncovered their heads, and with fervent zeal professed themselves his spiritual disciples.
There was a great and good governor (apparently) of Qonya, of the name of Mu’īnu-’d-Dīn, whose title was the Perwāna (moth or fly-wheel, viz., of the far-distant Mogul Emperor, resident at the court of the king). He was a great friend to the dervishes, to the learned, and to Jelāl, whose loving disciple he was.
One day, a company of the dervishes and learned men united in extolling the Perwāna to the skies, in Jelāl’s presence. He assented to all they advanced in that respect, and added: “The Perwāna merits a hundredfold all your eulogiums. But there is another side to the question, which may be exemplified by the following anecdote:—
“A company of pilgrims were once proceeding towardsMekka, when the camel of one of the party fell down in the desert, totally exhausted. The camel could not be got to rise again. Its load was, therefore, transferred to another beast, the fallen brute was abandoned to its fate, and the caravan resumed its journey.
“Ere long the fallen camel was surrounded by a circle of ravenous wild beasts,—wolves, jackals, &c. But none of these ventured to attack him. The members of the caravan became aware of this singularity, and one of them went back to investigate the matter. He found that an amulet had been left suspended on the animal’s neck; and this he removed. When he had retreated to a short distance, the hungry brutes fell upon the poor camel, and soon tore him piecemeal.”
“Now,” said Jelāl, “this world is in an exactly similar category with that poor camel. The learned of the world are the company of pilgrims, and our (Jelāl’s) existence among them is the amulet suspended round the neck of the camel—the world. So long as we remain so suspended, the world will go on, the caravan will proceed. But so soon as the divine mandate shall be spoken: ‘O thou submissive spirit, come thou back to thy Lord, content and approved’ (Qur’ān lxxxix. 27-8), and we be removed from the neck of the world-camel, people will see how it shall fare with the world,—how its inhabitants shall be driven,—what shall become of its sultans, its doctors, its scribes.”
It is said that these words were spoken a short time before Jelāl’s death. When he departed this life, not much time elapsed ere the Sultan, with many of his great men of learning and nobles, followed him to the grave, while troubles of all kinds overwhelmed the land for a season, until God again vouchsafed it peace.
During one of his expositions, Jelāl said: “Thou seest naught, save that thou seest God therein.”
A dervish came forward and raised the objection thatthe term “therein” indicated a receptacle, whereas it could not be predicated of God that He is comprehensible by any receptacle, as this would imply a contradiction in terms. Jelāl answered him as follows:—
“Had not that unimpeachable proposition been true, we had not proffered it. There is therein, forsooth, a contradiction in terms; but it is a contradiction in time, so that the receptacle and the recepted may differ,—may be two distinct things; even as the universe of God’s qualities is the receptacle of the universe of God’s essence. But, these two universes are really one. The first of them is not He; the second of them is not other than He. Those, apparently, two things are in truth one and the same. How, then, is a contradiction in terms implied? God comprises the exterior and the interior. If we cannot say He is the interior, He will not include the interior. But He comprises all, and in Him all things have their being. He is, then, the receptacle also, comprising all existences, as the Qur’ān (xli. 54) says: ‘He comprises all things.’”
The dervish was convinced, bowed, and declared himself a disciple.
Jelāl was one day seated in the shop of his great disciple the Goldbeater, Salāhu-’d-Dīn; and was surrounded by a circle of other disciples, listening to his discourse; when an old man came rushing in, beating his breast, and uttering loud lamentations. He entreated Jelāl to help him in his endeavours to recover his little son, a child seven years old, lost for several days past, in spite of every effort made to find him.
Jelāl expressed his disapprobation at the extreme importance the old man appeared to attach to his loss; and said:“Mankind in general have lost their God. Still, one does not hear that they go about in quest of Him, beating their breasts and making a great noise. What, then, has happened to thee so very particular, that thou makest all this fuss, and degradest thyself, an elder, by these symptoms of grief for the loss of a little child? Why seekest thou not for a time the Lord of the whole world, begging assistance of Him, that peradventure thy lost Joseph may be found, and thou be comforted, as was Jacob on the recovery of his child?”
The old man at once followed Jelāl’s advice, and begged forgiveness of God. Just then, news was brought him there that his son had been found. Many who were witnesses of these circumstances became devoted followers of Jelāl.
Jelāl was one day lecturing, when a young man of distinction came in, pushed his way, and took a seat higher up than an old man, one of the audience.
Jelāl at once remarked: “In days of yore it was the command of God, that, if any young man should take precedence of an elder, the earth should at once swallow him up; such being the divine punishment for that offence. Now, however, I see that young men, barely out of leading-strings, show no respect for age, but trample over those in years. They have no dread of the earth’s swallowing them up, nor any fear of being transformed into apes.13It happened, however, that one morning the Victorious Lion of God, ‘Alī, son of Abū-Tālib, was hasting from his house to perform his devotions at dawn in the mosque of the Prophet. On his way, he overtook an old man, a Jew, who was going in the same direction. The future Caliph, out of innate nobility and politeness of nature, had respect for the Jew’s age, and would not pass him, though the Jew’s pace was slow. When ‘Alī reached the mosque, the Prophet was already bowed down in his devotions, and was about to chant the ‘Gloria;’ but, by God’s command, Gabriel came down, laid his hand on the Prophet’s shoulder, and stopped him, lest ‘Alī should losethe merit attaching to his being present at the opening of the dawn service; for it is more meritorious to perform that early service once, than to fulfil the devotions of a hundred years at other hours of the day. The Prophet has said: ‘The first act of reverence at dawn worship is of more value than the world and all that is therein.’
“When the Apostle of God had concluded hisworship, offered up hiscustomary prayers, and recited his usuallessonsfrom the Qur’ān, he turned, and asked of Gabriel the occult cause of his interruption at that time. Gabriel replied that God had not seen fit that ‘Alī should be deprived of the merit attaching to the performance of the first portion of the dawn worship, through the respect he had shown to the old Jew he had overtaken, but whom he would not pass.
“Now,” remarked Jelāl, “when a saint like ‘Alī showed so much respect for a poor old misbelieving Jew, and when God viewed his respectful consideration in so highly favourable a manner, you may all infer how He will view any honour and veneration shown to an elderly saint of approved piety, whose beard has grown grey in the service of God, and whose companions are the elect of their Maker, whose chosen servant he is; and what reward He will mete out in consequence. For, in truth, glory and power belong to God, to the Apostle, and to the believers, as God hath Himself declared (Qur’ān lxiii. 8): ‘Unto God belongeth the power, and to the apostle, and to the believers.’
“If then,” added he, “ye wish to be prosperous in your affairs, take fast hold on the skirts of your spiritual elders. For, without the blessing of his pious elders, a young man will never live to be old, and will never attain the station of a spiritual elder.”
One day Jelāl took as his text the following words (Qur’ān xxxi. 18):—“Verily, the most discordant of all sounds is the voice of the asses.” He then put the question: “Do my friends know what this signifies?”
The congregation all bowed, and entreated him to expound it to them. Jelāl therefore proceeded:—
“All other brutes have acry, alesson, and adoxology, with which they commemorate their Maker and Provider. Such are, theyearning cryof the camel, theroarof the lion, thebleatof the gazelle, thebuzzof the fly, thehumof the bee, &c.
“The angels in heaven, and the genii, have their doxologies also, even as man has his doxology—hisMagnificat, and various forms of worship for his heart (or mind) and for his body.
“The poor ass, however, has nothing but hisbray. He sounds this bray on two occasions only: when he desires his female, and when he feels hunger. He is the slave of his lust and of his gullet.
“In like manner, if man have not in his heart a doxology for God, a cry, and a love, together with a secret and a care in his mind, he is less than an ass in God’s esteem; for He has said (Qur’ān vii. 178): ‘They are like the camels; nay, they are yet more erring.’” He then related the following anecdote:—
“In bygone days there was a monarch, who, by way of trial, requested another sovereign to send him three things, the worst of their several kinds that he could procure; namely, the worst article of food, the worst dispositioned thing, and the worst animal.
“The sovereign so applied to sent him somecheese, as the worst food; an Armenian slave, as the worst-dispositioned thing; and an ass, as the worst of animals. In the superscription to the epistle sent with these offerings, the sovereign quoted the verse of Scripture pointed out above.”
On a certain day, the Lord Jelālu-’d-Dīn went forth to the country residence of the saint Husāmu-’d-Dīn, ridingon an ass. He remarked: “This is the saddle-beast of the righteous. Several of the prophets have ridden on asses: as Seth, Ezra, Jesus, and Muhammed.”
It so chanced that one of his disciples was also mounted on an ass. The creature suddenly began to bray; and the rider, annoyed at the occurrence, struck the ass on the head several times.
Jelāl remonstrated: “Why strike the poor brute? Strikest thou him because he bears thy burden? Returnest thou not thanks for that thou art the rider, and he the vehicle? Suppose now, which God forbid, that the reverse were the case. What wouldst thou have done? His cry arises from one or the other of two causes, his gullet or his lust. In this respect, he shares the common lot of all creatures. They are all continually thus actuated. All, then, would have to be scolded and beaten over the head.”
The disciple was abashed. He dismounted, kissed the hoof of his ass, and caressed him.
On a certain occasion, one of his disciples complained to Jelāl of the scantiness of his means and the extent of his needs. Jelāl answered: “Out upon thee! Get thee gone! Henceforward, count me not a friend of thine; and so, peradventure, wealth may come to thee.” He then related the following anecdote:—
“It happened, once, that a certain disciple of the Prophet said to him: ‘I love thee!’ The Prophet answered: ‘Why tarriest thou, then? Haste to put on a breastplate of steel, and set thy face to encounter misfortunes. Prepare thyself, also, to endure straitness, the special gift of the friends and lovers (of God and His Apostle)!’”
Another anecdote, also, he thus narrated:“A Gnostic adept once asked of a rich man which he loved best, riches or sin. The latter answered that he loved riches best. The other replied: ‘Thou sayest not the truth. Thou better lovest sin and calamity. Seest thou not that thou leavest thy riches behind, whilst thou carriest thy sin and thy calamity about with thee, making thyself reprehensible in the sight of God! Be a man! Exert thyself to carry thy riches with thee, and sin not; since thou lovest thy riches. What thou hast to do is this: Send thy riches to God ere thou goest before Him thyself; peradventure, they may work thee some advantage; even as God hath said (Qur’ān lxxiii. 20): ‘And that which ye send before, for your souls, of good works, shall ye find with God. He is the best and the greatest in rewarding.”
It is related that one day the Perwāna, Mu’īnu-’d-Dīn, held a great assembly in his palace. To this meeting were collected together all the Doctors of the Law, the Sheykhs, the men of piety, the recluses, and the strangers who had congregated from various lands.
The chiefs of the law had taken their places in the highest seats. The Perwāna had had a great desire that Jelāl should honour the assembly with his presence. He had a son-in-law, Mejdu-’d-Dīn, governor to the young princes, the sons of the king. This son-in-law of his was a disciple of Jelāl’s, and a man of very eminent qualities, with great faith in his teacher. He offered to go and invite Jelāl to the meeting.
Hereupon, the arch-sower of doubts and animosities in the human breast spread among the chiefs of the law, there present, the suspicion that, if Jelāl should come, the question of precedence would arise: “Where should he be seated?” They all agreed that they were themselves in their proper places, and that Jelāl must find a seat where he could.
Mejdu-’d-Dīn delivered the Perwāna’s courteous message to his teacher. Jelāl, inviting Husāmu-’d-Dīn and others of his disciples to accompany him, set out for the Perwāna’s palace. The disciples went on a little ahead, and Jelāl brought up the procession.
When Husām entered the apartment of the Perwāna, all present rose to receive him, making room for him in the upper seats. Lastly, Jelāl made his appearance.
The Perwāna and other courtiers crowded forward to receive Jelāl with honour, and kissed His Lordship’s blessed hands with reverence, expressing regret that he had been put to inconvenience by his condescension. He returned compliment for compliment, and was shown upstairs.
On reaching the assembly room, he saw that the grandees had occupied the whole of the sofa, from end to end. He saluted them, and prayed for God’s grace to be showered upon them; seating himself then in the middle of the floor. Husāmu-’d-Dīn immediately rose from his seat, descended from the sofa, and took a place by the side of Jelāl.
The grandees of the assembly now arose also, excepting those who, in spite and pride, had formed the confederacy mentioned above. These kept their seats. Some of them were of the greatest eminence in learning; and one, especially, was not only very learned, but also eloquent, witty, and bold.
He, seeing what had taken place, and that all the men of rank had quitted the sofa, to seat themselves on the floor, asked in a jocose manner: “Where, according to the rules of the Order, is the chief seat in an assembly?”
Some one answered him: “In an assembly of the learned, the chief seat is in the middle of the sofa, where the professor always sits.” Another added: “With recluses, the cell of solitude is the chief seat.” A third said: “In the convents of dervish brethren, the chief seat is the lower end of the sofa, where, in reality, people put off their shoes.”
After these remarks, some one present, as an experiment, asked Jelāl, saying:“In your rule and opinion, where is the chief seat?” His answer was: “The chief seat is that where one’s beloved is found.” The interrogator now asked: “And where is your beloved?” Jelāl replied: “Thou must be blind, not to see.”
Jelāl then arose, and began to sing. Many joined; and the singing became so enthusiastic, that the nobles rent their garments.
It so happened that, after Jelāl’s death, this interlocutor of his went to Damascus, and there became blind. Friends flocked to visit him, and to condole with him. He wept bitterly, and cried aloud: “Alas, alas! what have I not suffered? That very moment, when Jelāl gave me that fatal answer, a black veil seemed to fall down over my eyes, so that I could not distinguish objects clearly, or their colours. But I have hope and faith in him, that, out of his sublime generosity, he will yet take pity on me, and pardon my presumption. The goodness of the saints is infinite; and Jelāl himself hath said: ‘Despair not because of one sin; for the ocean of divine mercy accepteth penitence.’”
The foregoing incident is also related with the following variation:—
Shemsu-’d-Dīn of Tebrīz had just then returned to Qonya, and was among those who accompanied Jelāl to the Perwāna’s palace, sitting down near him on the floor. When the question was put: “Where is your beloved?” Jelāl arose, and cast himself on the breast of Shems. That occurrence it was that made Shems, from that time forward, a man of mark in all Qonya.
There was in Qonya a great physician, of eminence and ability, who used occasionally to visit Jelāl.
On one of those days, Jelāl requested him to prepare seventeen purgative draughts by a certain time, propitious for taking medicine, as that number of his friends required them.
When the specified time came, Jelāl went to the physician’s house, and received the seventeen draughts. He immediately began, and, in the physician’s presence, drank off the whole seventeen in succession, thence returning home.
The physician followed him there, to render the assistance he felt sure would be wanted. He found Jelāl seated as usual, in perfect health, and lecturing to his disciples. On inquiring how he felt, Jelāl answered, in the words so often repeated in the Qur’ān (ii. 23, &c.): “Beneath which rivers flow.” The physician recommended Jelāl to abstain from water. Jelāl instantly ordered ice to be brought and broken up small. Of this he swallowed an inordinate quantity, while the physician looked on.
Jelāl then went to a hot-bath. After bathing, he began to sing and dance; continuing in those exercises three whole days and nights, without intermission.
The physician declared this to be the greatest miracle ever wrought by prophet or by saint. With his whole family, and with many of the greatest in the medical profession, he joined himself to the multitude of Jelāl’s disciples of the most sincere.
The Perwāna is related to have said publicly, in his own palace, that Jelāl was a matchless monarch, no sovereign having ever appeared in any age like unto him; but that his disciples were a very disreputable set.
These words were reported to them, and the company of disciples were greatly scandalised at the imputation. Jelāl sent a note to the Perwāna, of which the following is the substance:—
“Had my disciples been good men, I had been their disciple. Inasmuch as they were bad, I accepted them as my disciples, that they might reform and become good,—of the company of the righteous. By the soul of my father, they were not accepted as disciples, until God had made Himself responsible that they would attain to mercy and grace, admitted among those accepted of Him. Until that assurance was given, they were not received by me, nor had they any place in the hearts of the servants of God. ‘The sons of grace are saved; the children of wrath are sick; for the sake of Thy mercy, we, a people of wrath, have come to Thee.’”
When the Perwāna had read and considered these words, he became still more attached to Jelāl; arose, came to him, asked pardon, and prayed for forgiveness of God, distributing largely of his bounty among the disciples.
Another great and good man once observed: “Jelāl is a great saint and a sovereign; but he must be dragged forth from among his disciples.” This was reported to Jelāl, who smiled, and said: “If he can!”
Soon afterwards he added: “Why, then, is it that my followers are looked upon with spite by the men of the world? It is because they are beloved of God, and favourably regarded by Him. I have sifted all mankind; and all have fallen through my sieve, excepting these friends of mine. They have remained. My existence is the life of my friends, and the existence of my friends is the life of the men of the world, whether they know this, or whether they ignore it.”
There was a young merchant, whose house was near Jelāl’s college, and who had professed himself a sincere and ardent disciple.
He conceived a desire and intention to make a voyage to Egypt; but his friends tried to dissuade him. His intention was reported to Jelāl, who strictly and rigorously prohibited his undertaking the voyage.
The young man could not divest himself of his desire, and had no peace of mind; so one night he clandestinely stole away, and went off to Syria. Arrived at Antioch, he embarked in a ship, and set sail. As God had willed, his ship was taken by Firengī pirates. He was made prisoner, and was confined in a deep dungeon, where he had a daily portion of food doled out to him, barely sufficient to keep his body and soul together.
He was thus kept imprisoned forty days, during which he wept bitterly, and reproached himself for having been disobedient to the injunction of Jelāl; saying: “This is the reward of my crime. I have disobeyed the command of my sovereign, following after my own evil propensity.”
Precisely on the night of the fortieth day, he saw Jelāl in a dream, who addressed him, and said: “To-morrow, to whatever questions these misbelievers may ask thee, do thou return the answer: ‘I know.’ By that means shalt thou be released.” He awoke bewildered, returned thanks to Heaven, and sat down in holy meditation, awaiting the solution of the dream.
Shortly, he saw a company of Firengī people come to him, with whom was an interpreter. They asked him: “Knowest thou aught of philosophy, and canst thou practise therapeutics? Our prince is sick.” His answer was: “I know.”
They immediately took him out of the pit, led him to a bath, and dressed him in a handsome vestment of honour. They then conducted him to the residence of the sick man.
The young merchant, inspired of God, ordered them to bring him seven fruits. These he prepared with a little scammony, and made the whole into a draught, which he administered to the patient.
By the grace of God, and the intercession of the saints, his treatment was crowned with success, after two or three visits. The Firengī prince recovered; and by reason that the favour of Jelāl was upon that young merchant, thoughhe was utterly illiterate, he became a philosopher. Jelāl assisted him.
When the Firengī prince had entirely recovered his health, and had arisen from his sick-bed, he told the young merchant to ask of him whatsoever he might wish. He asked for his freedom, and for leave to return home, that he might rejoin his teacher. He then related all that had befallen him;—his disobedience, his vision, and the assistance of Jelāl. The whole audience of Firengīs, without sight of Jelāl, became believers in him, and wooers of him.
They set the young merchant free, and allowed him to depart, bestowing on him rich presents and a bountiful outfit.
On his arrival at the metropolis, before going to his own house, he hastened to pay his respects to Jelāl. On beholding the sacred features from afar, he threw himself on the earth, embraced Jelāl’s two feet, kissed them, rubbed his face upon them, and wept. Jelāl raised him, kissed both his cheeks, and said: “It was a narrow escape through thy curing the Firengī prince. Thou didst abscond; but henceforward, do thou remain at home, and occupy thyself in earning what is lawful. Take contentment as thy exemplar. The sufferings of the sea, the commotion of the ship, the calamity of captivity, and the darkness of the dungeon, are so many evils. Contentment is a very blessing from God.”
Jelāl one day was going from his college into the town, when by chance he met a Christian monk, who made him an obeisance. Jelāl asked him which was the elder, himself or his beard. The monk replied: “I am twenty years older than my beard. It came forth that number of years later.” Jelāl answered him:“Then I pity thee. Thy young beard has attained to maturity, whereas thou hast remained immature, as thou wast. Thou art as black, and as weak, and as untutored as ever. Alas for thee, if thou change not, and ripen not!”
The poor monk at once renounced his rope girdle, threw it away, professed the faith of Islām, and became a believer.
A company of black-habited ones (Christian priests or monks) chanced to meet Jelāl one day, as they came from a distant place. When his disciples espied them afar off, they expressed their aversion from them by exclaiming: “O the dark-looking, disagreeable things!”
Jelāl remarked: “In the whole world, none are more generous than they are. They have given over to us, in this life, the faith of Islām, purity, cleanliness, and the various modes of worshipping God; while, in the world to come, they have left to us the everlasting abodes of paradise, the large-eyed damsels, and the pavilions, as well as the sight of God, of which they will enjoy no share; for God hath said (Qur’ān vii. 48): ‘Verily God hath made both of them forbidden things to the misbelievers!’ They walk in darkness and misbelief, willingly incurring the torments of hell. But, let only the sun of righteousness rise upon them suddenly, and they will become believers.”
Being now come near enough, they all made their obeisances to Jelāl, entered into conversation with him, and professed themselves true Muslims. Jelāl now turned to his disciples, and added: “God swallows up the darkness in the light, and the light in the darkness. He also makes in the darkness a place for the light.” The disciples bowed, and rejoiced.
A certain well-known disciple related that, on one occasion, Jelāl and his friends went forth to the country-seat of Husām, and there held a grand festival of holymusic and dancing until near daybreak. Jelāl then left off, to give his followers a little rest.
They dispersed about the grounds; and the narrator took a seat in a spot from whence he could see and observe Jelāl. The others all fell asleep; but he occupied himself with reflections on the miracles performed by various of the prophets and of the saints. He thought to himself: “I wonder whether this holy man works miracles. Of course he does; only, he keeps the fact quiet, to avoid the inconveniences of notoriety.”
Hardly had the thought crossed his mind, when Jelāl called him by name. On his approaching Jelāl, the latter stooped, picked up a pebble from the earth, placed it on the back of his own hand, and said to him: “Here, take this; it is thy portion; and be thou one of the thankful” (Qur’ān vii. 141).
The disciple examined the pebble by the light of the moon, and saw that it was a large ruby, exceedingly clear and brilliant, not to be found in the treasuries of kings.
Utterly astounded, he shrieked out, and swooned away; awaking the whole company with his shout; for he was a very loud-voiced man. On recovery, he told the others what had occurred. He also expressed to Jelāl his contrition for the temerity of his reflections.
Jelāl told him to carry the stone to the queen, and to mention how he had become possessed of it. The queen accepted it, had it valued, and gave to him a hundred and eighty thousand pieces of silver in return, besides rich gifts. She also distributed presents to all the members of the fraternity.
A certain sheykh, son of a sheykh, and a man of great reputation for learning, came to Qonya, and was respectfully visited by all the people of eminence residing there.
It so happened that Jelāl and his friends were gone that day to a mosque in the country; and the new-comer,offended at Jelāl’s not hasting to visit him, made the remark in public: “Has Jelāl never heard the adage: ‘The newly-arrived one is visited’?”
One of Jelāl’s disciples chanced to be present, and heard this remark. On the other hand, Jelāl was expounding sublime truths in the mosque to his disciples, when suddenly he exclaimed, “My dear brother! I am the newly-arrived one, not thou. Thou and those like thee are bound to visit me, and so gain honour to yourselves.”
All his audience were surprised at this apostrophe; wondering to whom it was addressed. Jelāl then spake a parable: “One man came from Bagdād, and another went forth out of his house and ward; which of the two ought to pay the first visit to the other?”
All agreed in opinion that the man from Bagdād ought to be visited by the other. Then Jelāl explained, thus: “In reality, I am returned from the Bagdād ofnulliquity, whereas this dearly beloved son of a sheykh, who has come here, has gone forth from a ward of this world. I am better entitled, therefore, to be visited than is he. I have been hymning in the Bagdād of the world of spirits the heavenly canticle: ‘I am the Truth,’ since a time anterior to the commencement of the present war, ere the truth obtained its victory.” The disciples expressed their concurrence, and rejoiced exceedingly.
By and by, the sheykh’s son was informed of this wonder. He at once arose, went on foot to visit Jelāl, uncovered his head, and owned that Jelāl was right. He further declared himself Jelāl’s disciple, and said:“My father enjoined me to put on ironed sandals, taking an iron-shod staff in my hand, and go forth in quest of Jelālu-’d-Dīn, since it is a duty of all to visit and reverence him who has spoken the truth and reposes on the truth. But the majesty of Jelāl is a hundredfold greater than what my father explained to me.”
Jelāl once commanded one of his attendants to go and arrange a certain matter. The attendant answered: “God willing.”
Upon this, Jelāl was wroth, and shouted to him: “Stupid, garrulous fool!” The attendant fainted and foamed at the mouth.