addressing his discourse to Shaikh ‘Abdu-'r-Razzāq who contented himself with saying “It is indeed so,” and “Yes,” (at intervals), occasionally pointing out some allusion. Nobody else had power 19. to utter a word, awe and reverence preventing them. As for me, I was as though I was not,* and, reviewing my sins, sat in fear lest they should have been revealed to the Shaikh, and lest my inmost being should be laid bare to the light of day,* secretly watching all the while for an opportunity to escape from the assembly. At that moment that student asked, “Why should not the (possessive) pronoun affixed to the word wajh* (face) be referred to some thing, as masters of the secret knowledge of God have said?” The Shaikh, the moment he heard this speech, became much agitated, and the colour of his blessed countenance* turned to red and yellow, and he said, “Did I not, when I first set eyes on this devil, repeat the formula “We seek protection, etc.,” and now, in the manner which we have just heard, his devilry has become apparent?” And when he discovered what the student's design was he repeated several times the formula, “There is no power or strength but with God,” and quoted the following couplet from the Qaṣīda-yi-Burda:—*
“O thou who blamest me for my pure affection, excused
“Thou art by me therefor, but had'st thou done justice thou
would'st not have blamed me.”*
Intense love for God overpowered the Shaikh and he ordered the student to be turned out of the assembly, but afterwards, calling him back again, he appeased him, and the contemplation of this matter was a great warning to us who were present. That night passed very uncomfortably for me in the hospice, and I watched for the morning in order that I might escape. The early morning prayers* were recited with the Shaikh at the moment the true dawn began to appear, when we could not see one another's faces without a lamp, I indeed thinking that it was yet night. At sunrise the Shaikh came out of his cell and stood at the door of the masjid, ordering Miyāṅ Shaikh Muḥammad* to bring for us three whatever food might be ready, and I was in great agitation of mind, ever and again endeavouring to get Miyāṅ Shaikh Muḥammad to obtain leave from his master for me to depart. The holy Shaikh, with his Qur'ān in one hand and salt in the other 20. was appositely expounding the blessed verse, “Make ready then against them what force ye can, and squadrons of horse,”* and so on to the end of the verse, ignoring my application for leave to depart. Apropos of what he was saying he then mentioned, in a most affectionate manner, Ḥusain Khan, who was at that time in the pargana of Isaulī,* and said, “He is my son.”* Then, following the dictates of his generous nature, which led him to bestow on every one, rich or poor, a piece of gold, or salt, or some other gift, he gave to me a tanka.
Of the miracles which I saw him perform, when I made that journey to visit him, this was one. As we three* were on the road to Ambeṭhī, journeying to pay our respects to the Shaikh (the road-police) had arrested a man dressed as beggar on a charge of theft and highway robbery, and had seized him by his clothes.* He in some way managed to effect his escape, and in that very hour came begging to the holy Shaikh; but notwithstanding all his persistence and lamentation the Shaikh gave him nothing. We who were present were much astonished, as we had often witnessed instances of the Shaikh's generosity. The Shaikh at once opposed and objected to* (our expressions of surprise) saying, “Look at the* thief, who both robs on the highway and poses as a beggar,” and he drove him out of our assembly. This caused great astonishment, and when we looked closely at the man we recognized him as the same person whom the road-police had laid hands on.
On the same day another occurrence, similar to this, took place, but an account of it would occupy much space.
On the last day of Ramaẓān, in the year already mentioned, we were travelling rapidly at night* with Ḥusain Khān, from his pargana to Ambeṭhī, and all our efforts were centred on reaching that place in time to recite the early morning prayers* in company with the Shaikh. The dawn had already appeared when, at three kurūh* distance from Ambeṭhī, we put spurs to our horses, and regretted that we were not in time for the public prayers.* We reached the Shaikh's masjid in Ambeṭhī as the sun was about to rise. At that moment the holy Shaikh, having come out of his house, was just commencing his prayers with the “Allāhu Akbar,”* 21. and he broke off, and we thought that we were just too late, but we nevertheless attained the great honour (which we sought). Now this act of the Shaikh was contrary to his usual custom, for he always recited the early morning prayers at a time when we thought that the true dawn had hardly appeared.
It chanced that towards the close of the same day the Shaikh was explaining the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs* in the masjid, and he read some* verses from the Dīvān of Khāja Hāfi.* One of the companions of the late Ḥusain Khān asked whose disciple Khāja Ḥāfi was, and the Shaikh said, “He was the disciple of Khāja Naqshband,”* (may God sanctify his soul!) Another, apropos of the same subject, asked “How was horse-flesh regarded in the religion of the greatest of the Imāms?”* (i.e., was it lawful food or not?) The Shaikh replied that the greatest of the Imāms himself ate horse-flesh, and when he reached this couplet:—
“The Ṣūfīs celebrate in one moment two ‘īds (great feasts)
“Spiders make pemmican of a fly.”*
then I too, trusting in my own singleness of heart, thoughtlessly
asked, “What is meant by the ‘two ‘īds?’” This question annoyed
the Shaikh and he angrily said, “Let Bāyazid*
and Junaid,*
or
Shiblī*
and Manṣūr*
ask such a question as this. What have you
to do with such a question?” And falling into this vein he spoke
much on the subject, and I, hanging my head with shame, repented
my indiscretion. Ḥusain Khān, biting his finger with consternation,
looked ever and anon towards me, and his friends were all
bewildered. Suddenly my lot was lightened by the rising of the
(joyful) clamour which is heard on the appearance of the new
moon of the ‘īd,*
and all rose and busied themselves in mutual
congratulations and hand-shakings. I rose, and on the plea of
being fatigued went to recite my evening prayers in a tent which
was pitched in a garden beside the masjid, feeling sick of life.
When the holy Shaikh, going indoors, set food before his guests,
he asked “Where is such an one?”*
(i.e., Badāonī), Shaikh
Muḥammad, his worthy successor,*
answered, “By reason of the
22. impertinence of which he was guilty he could not appear in
the masjid, and he absented himself also from the public prayers.
The Shaikh then sent me some food from his own table, with his
blessing, and I was somewhat consoled, and entertained hopes of
forgiveness. Early the next morning Ḥusain Khān went to
Lakhnau, to join in celebrating the ‘īd there, and I alone remained
in Ambeṭhī. The holy Shaikh recited the prayers of the festival
in his masjid and afterwards occupied himself in giving instruction
in the book known as the ‘Awārif.*
Meanwhile Shaikh
Muḥammad rose up to intercede for me, and asked that my fault
might be forgiven. The Shaikh sent for me, and breaking off
his teaching turned to me with great kindness, and when I, my
eyes full of tears, placed my head on his foot, he embraced me
and said “I bear no enmity or malice in my heart against
anybody. Whatever I say is in the way of advice and spiritual
instruction to the slaves of God, and abuse from me, as was the
case with abuse from the prophet of God, (may God bless and
save him), has on its object the same effect as praise (from
another), and even if I utter a curse on anybody it has the same
effect as a blessing.*
Then, in affection, taking his cap from his
blessed head, he gave it to me, and took me apart into the cell
which was in the gate-house, and said “Perform your ceremonial
ablutions in my presence, and recite your prayers.” I recited
them wonderingly. He said to me, “Men say of me that I do
not instruct students. What instruction can I give? My instruction
and religious teaching are just this much, a tongue never
weary of praising God and a thankful heart.” Then he became
agitated like a stormy surging sea and said “My life is instruction
sufficient for seekers after God, and walkers in His way.”*
Just then two darvīshes from Sindh, breaking the Shaikh's
custom, began to sing outside an Indian melody in mournful
and grating tones, and my spiritual condition underwent a change*
by means of the influence brought to bear on me at that time.
Apropos of this (influence) the Shaikh said that the great
companions (of Muḥammad),*
(may God be gratified with
them!), when they saw that the desert ‘Arabs newly converted
to Islam were much affected by hearing the glorious Qur'ān read, 23.
regretted their own state, and the leader of the faithful, Abū-