On the occasion of a grand religious commemoration at the house of the Perwāna, in the presence of the Sultan Ruknu-'d-Dīn, this monarch was taken unwell, and the exercises were suspended, only, one of the disciples continued to sing and shout.
The Sultan remarked: “How ill-behaved is that man! Does he pretend to be more ecstatic than his teacher Jelālu-'d-Dīn?”
Jelāl heard this, and answered the king: “Thou art unable to withstand an attack of fever. How then canst thou expect a man devoured with an enthusiasm that threatens to swallow up even heaven itself, to calm down on a sudden?”
When the disciples heard this, they set up a shout; and the Sultan, after himself witnessing one or two of the mighty signs wrought by Jelāl, made his obeisance to him, and became a disciple.
It has been related by some that the final overthrow of the rule of the Seljūqī dynasty in Asia Minor (in A.H. 700, A.D. 1300), was in this manner:—
The Sultan Ruknu-'d-Dīn had adopted Jelāl as his (spiritual) father. After a while, he held a great dervish festival in the palace. But, about that period, a certain Sheykh Bāba had created for himself a great name in Qonya, and certain intriguers had led the king to visit him.
It was shortly after that visit that the king held the revival in honour of Bāba in the Hall of the Bowls.
The sheykh was met and introduced in state by the court officials, and was then installed on the throne, with the Sultan seated on a chair by his side. Jelāl now made his appearance, saluted, and took his seat in a corner of the hall. Portions of the Qur'ān were recited, and exhortations were delivered, with hymns.
The Sultan then turned to Jelāl, and spoke: “Be it known to the Lord Jelāl, to the Doctors of the Law, and to the grandees, that I have adopted the Sheykh Bāba as my (spiritual) father, who has accepted me as his dutiful and affectionate son.”
All present shouted their approval, and prayed for a blessing on the arrangement. But Jelāl, burning with divine jealousy, instantly exclaimed (in words traditionally related of the prophet, Muhammed): “Verily, Sa'd is a jealous man; but I am more jealous than Sa'd; and God is still more jealous than I am.” To this he further added: “Since the Sultan has made the sheykh his father, we will make some other our son.” So saying, he gave his usual religious shout of ecstasy, and stalked out from the assembly.
Husāmu-'d-Dīn related that he saw the Sultan, when Jelāl thus quitted the presence, turn pale, as though shot with an arrow.
The grandees ran to stop Jelāl; but he would not return.
A few days afterwards, the officers of state adopted the resolution to invite the Sultan to go to another city, that they might take measures to get rid of Sheykh Bāba. The Sultan now went to consult Jelāl, and ask for his blessing before setting out. Jelāl advised him not to go. The matter had, however, been officially promulgated, and there was no possibility to alter arrangements.
On arriving at the other town, the Sultan was conducted to a private apartment, and forthwith strangled with a bowstring. Ere his breath failed, he invoked the name of Jelāl.
At that moment Jelāl was at his college, lost to consciousness in the enthusiasm of a musical service. Suddenly, he put his two forefingers into his two ears, and ordered the trumpets and chorus to join in. He then shouted vociferously, and recited aloud two of his own odes, of which one commences thus:
When the service was over, the disciples requested Jelāl's son, Sultan Veled, to inquire of his father what all this might signify. In reply, he merely put off his cloak, and said aloud: “Let us perform the service for the burial of the dead.”
He acted as Precentor in the service, and all present joined in. Then, without waiting for his son to put any question, he addressed the assembly, saying: “Yea, Bahā'u-'d-Dīn and my friends! They have strangled the poor Sultan Ruknu-'d-Dīn. In his agony, he called on me, and shrieked. God had so ordained. I did not wish his voice to ring in my ears, and interrupt my devotions. He will fare better in the other world.”
(There is a serious anachronism in the foregoing account. Sultan Ruknu-'d-Dīn, whose name was Suleyman son of Key-Khusrew, was put to death by order of the Mogul emperor Abaqa Khān, in A.H. 664 (A.D. 1265), thirty-six years before the final extinction of the dynasty by order of Qāzān Khān, between Abaqa and whom no less than four emperors reigned. Besides this, Jelāl himself died in A.H. 672 (A.D. 1273), twenty-seven years before the last of the Seljūqī sovereigns, Key-Qubād son of Ferāmurz son of Key-Kāwus, was slaughtered, together with all living members of the race. Historians differ much respecting the names and order of succession of the last sovereigns of the dynasty; and the present anecdote shows how confused had become on the spot the legend of these puppets. Ruknu-'d-Dīn caused his own brother to be poisoned, as he had become jealous of the favour shown to that brother by the Mogul emperor. His own death was the reward of that act.)
One day, in lecturing on self-abasement and humility, Jelāl spake a parable from the trees of the field, and said: “Every tree that yields no fruit, as the pine, the cypress, the box, &c., grows tall and straight, lifting up its head on high, and sending all its branches upwards; whereas all the fruit-bearing trees droop their heads, and trail their branches. In like manner, the Apostle of God was the most humble of men. Though he carried within himself all the virtues and excellencies of the ancients and of the moderns, he, like a fruitful tree, was more humble, and more of a dervish, than any other prophet. He is related to have said: ‘I am commanded to show consideration to all men, to be kind to them; and yet, no prophet was ever so ill-treated by men as I have been.’ We know that he had his head broken, and his teeth knocked out. Still he prayed: ‘O our Lord God, guide Thou my people aright; for they know not what they do.’ Other prophets have launched denunciations against the people to whom they were sent; and certainly, none have had greater cause to do so, than Muhammed.”
In like manner, Jelāl also had the commendable habit to show himself humble and considerate to all, even the lowest; especially so to children, and to old women. He used to bless them; and always bowed to those who bowed to him, even though these were not Muslims.
One day he met an Armenian butcher, who bowed to him seven times. Jelāl bowed to him in return. At another time he chanced upon a number of children who were playing, and who left their game, ran to him, and bowed. Jelāl bowed to them also; so much so, that one little fellow called out from afar: “Wait for me until I come.” Jelāl moved not away, until the child had come, bowed, and been bowed to.
At that time, people were speaking and writing against him. Legal opinions were obtained and circulated, to the effect that music, singing, and dancing, are unlawful. Out of his kindly disposition, and love of peace, Jelāl made no reply; and after a while all his detractors were silenced, and their writings clean forgotten, as though they had never been written; whereas, his family and followers will endure to the end of time, and will go on increasing continually.
Jelāl once wrote a note to the Perwāna, interceding for a disciple who had been involved in an act of homicide, and had taken refuge in the house of another.
The Perwāna demurred; saying it was a very grave matter, a question of blood. Jelāl thereupon facetiously replied: “A homicide is popularly termed ‘a son of 'Azrā'īl (the angel of death).’ Being such, what on earth is he to do, unless he kill some one?”
This repartee so pleased the Perwāna, that he pardoned the culprit, and paid himself to the heirs of the slain man the price of his blood.
Jelāl one day went forth and preached in the market. Crowds collected round him. But he continued until night fell around him; so he was at length left alone.
The dogs of the market-place now collected in a circle about him, wagging their tails and whining.
Seeing this, Jelāl exclaimed: “By the Lord, the Highest, the Strongest, the All-Compelling One, besides whom none is high, or strong, or powerful! These dogs comprehend my discourse, and the truths I expound. Men call them dogs; but henceforward let them not be so termed. They are of the family of the ‘Seven Sleepers.’”*
The Perwāna much wished Jelāl to give him private instruction at his palace; and requested Jelāl's son, Sultan Veled, to intercede for him in the matter; which he did.
Jelāl replied to his son: “Bahā'u-'d-Dīn! He cannot bear that burden.” This was thrice repeated. Jelāl then remarked to his son: “Bahā'u-'d-Dīn! A bucket, the water of which is enough for forty, cannot be drained by one.”
Bahā made the reflection: “Had I not pressed the matter, I had never heard this wonderful saying.”
At another time, the Perwāna, through Bahā'u-'d-Dīn, requested Jelāl to give a public lecture to all the men of science of the city, who were desirous to hear him.
His answer was: “A tree laden with fruit, had its branches bowed down to the earth therewith. At the time, doubts and gainsayings prevented the gardeners from gathering and enjoying the fruit. The tree has now raised its head to the skies, and beyond. Can they hope, then, to pluck and eat of its fruit?”
Again, the Perwāna requested Jelāl himself to instruct him and give him counsel.
After a little reflection, Jelāl said: “I have heard that thou hast committed the Qur'ān to memory. Is it so?” “I have.” “I have heard that thou hast studied, under a great teacher, the Jāmi'u-'l-Usūl, that mighty work on the ‘Elements of Jurisprudence.’ Is it so?” “It is.”
“Then,” answered Jelāl, “thou knowest the Word of God, and thou knowest all the words and acts reported of His Apostle. But thou settest them at naught, and actest not up to their precepts. How, then, canst thou expect that words of mine will profit thee?”
The Perwāna was abashed, and burst into tears. He went his way; but from that day he began to execute justice, so as to become a rival of the great Chosroes. He made himself the phœnix of the age, and Jelāl accepted him as a disciple.