There was a young merchant, whose house was near Jelāl's college, and who had professed himself a sincere and ardent disciple.
He conceived a desire and intention to make a voyage to Egypt; but his friends tried to dissuade him. His intention was reported to Jelāl, who strictly and rigorously prohibited his undertaking the voyage.
The young man could not divest himself of his desire, and had no peace of mind; so one night he clandestinely stole away, and went off to Syria. Arrived at Antioch, he embarked in a ship, and set sail. As God had willed, his ship was taken by Firengī pirates. He was made prisoner, and was confined in a deep dungeon, where he had a daily portion of food doled out to him, barely sufficient to keep his body and soul together.
He was thus kept imprisoned forty days, during which he wept bitterly, and reproached himself for having been disobedient to the injunction of Jelāl; saying: “This is the reward of my crime. I have disobeyed the command of my sovereign, following after my own evil propensity.”
Precisely on the night of the fortieth day, he saw Jelāl in a dream, who addressed him, and said: “To-morrow, to whatever questions these misbelievers may ask thee, do thou return the answer: ‘I know.’ By that means shalt thou be released.” He awoke bewildered, returned thanks to Heaven, and sat down in holy meditation, awaiting the solution of the dream.
Shortly, he saw a company of Firengī people come to him, with whom was an interpreter. They asked him: “Knowest thou aught of philosophy, and canst thou practise therapeutics? Our prince is sick.” His answer was: “I know.”
They immediately took him out of the pit, led him to a bath, and dressed him in a handsome vestment of honour. They then conducted him to the residence of the sick man.
The young merchant, inspired of God, ordered them to bring him seven fruits. These he prepared with a little scammony, and made the whole into a draught, which he administered to the patient.
By the grace of God, and the intercession of the saints, his treatment was crowned with success, after two or three visits. The Firengī prince recovered; and by reason that the favour of Jelāl was upon that young merchant, though he was utterly illiterate, he became a philosopher. Jelāl assisted him.
When the Firengī prince had entirely recovered his health, and had arisen from his sick-bed, he told the young merchant to ask of him whatsoever he might wish. He asked for his freedom, and for leave to return home, that he might rejoin his teacher. He then related all that had befallen him;—his disobedience, his vision, and the assistance of Jelāl. The whole audience of Firengīs, without sight of Jelāl, became believers in him, and wooers of him.
They set the young merchant free, and allowed him to depart, bestowing on him rich presents and a bountiful outfit.
On his arrival at the metropolis, before going to his own house, he hastened to pay his respects to Jelāl. On beholding the sacred features from afar, he threw himself on the earth, embraced Jelāl's two feet, kissed them, rubbed his face upon them, and wept. Jelāl raised him, kissed both his cheeks, and said: “It was a narrow escape through thy curing the Firengī prince. Thou didst abscond; but henceforward, do thou remain at home, and occupy thyself in earning what is lawful. Take contentment as thy exemplar. The sufferings of the sea, the commotion of the ship, the calamity of captivity, and the darkness of the dungeon, are so many evils. Contentment is a very blessing from God.”
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 holy music and dancing until near daybreak. Jelāl then left off, to give his followers a little rest.
They dispersed about the grounds; and the narrator took a seat in a spot from whence he could see and observe Jelāl. The others all fell asleep; but he occupied himself with reflections on the miracles performed by various of the prophets and of the saints. He thought to himself: “I wonder whether this holy man works miracles. Of course he does; only, he keeps the fact quiet, to avoid the inconveniences of notoriety.”
Hardly had the thought crossed his mind, when Jelāl called him by name. On his approaching Jelāl, the latter stooped, picked up a pebble from the earth, placed it on the back of his own hand, and said to him: “Here, take this; it is thy portion; and be thou one of the thankful” (Qur'ān vii. 141).
The disciple examined the pebble by the light of the moon, and saw that it was a large ruby, exceedingly clear and brilliant, not to be found in the treasuries of kings.
Utterly astounded, he shrieked out, and swooned away; awaking the whole company with his shout; for he was a very loud-voiced man. On recovery, he told the others what had occurred. He also expressed to Jelāl his contrition for the temerity of his reflections.
Jelāl told him to carry the stone to the queen, and to mention how he had become possessed of it. The queen accepted it, had it valued, and gave to him a hundred and eighty thousand pieces of silver in return, besides rich gifts. She also distributed presents to all the members of the fraternity.
A certain sheykh, son of a sheykh, and a man of great reputation for learning, came to Qonya, and was respectfully visited by all the people of eminence residing there.
It so happened that Jelāl and his friends were gone that day to a mosque in the country; and the new-comer, offended at Jelāl's not hasting to visit him, made the remark in public: “Has Jelāl never heard the adage: ‘The newly-arrived one is visited’?”
One of Jelāl's disciples chanced to be present, and heard this remark. On the other hand, Jelāl was expounding sublime truths in the mosque to his disciples, when suddenly he exclaimed, “My dear brother! I am the newly-arrived one, not thou. Thou and those like thee are bound to visit me, and so gain honour to yourselves.”
All his audience were surprised at this apostrophe; wondering to whom it was addressed. Jelāl then spake a parable: “One man came from Bagdād, and another went forth out of his house and ward; which of the two ought to pay the first visit to the other?”
All agreed in opinion that the man from Bagdād ought to be visited by the other. Then Jelāl explained, thus: “In reality, I am returned from the Bagdād of nulliquity, whereas this dearly beloved son of a sheykh, who has come here, has gone forth from a ward of this world. I am better entitled, therefore, to be visited than is he. I have been hymning in the Bagdād of the world of spirits the heavenly canticle: ‘I am the Truth,’ since a time anterior to the commencement of the present war, ere the truth obtained its victory.” The disciples expressed their concurrence, and rejoiced exceedingly.
By and by, the sheykh's son was informed of this wonder.
He at once arose, went on foot to visit Jelāl, uncovered
his head, and owned that Jelāl was right. He
further declared himself Jelāl's disciple, and said: “My
father enjoined me to put on ironed sandals, taking an
iron-shod staff in my hand, and go forth in quest of Jelālu-
Jelāl once commanded one of his attendants to go and arrange a certain matter. The attendant answered: “God willing.”
Upon this, Jelāl was wroth, and shouted to him: “Stupid, garrulous fool!” The attendant fainted and foamed at the mouth.
The disciples interceded. Jelāl expressed his forgiveness; and the attendant recovered.