On a certain day, the Lord Jelālu-'d-Dīn went forth to the country residence of the saint Husāmu-'d-Dīn, riding on 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.”