It was long in my thoughts
That by a knowing and thoughtful heart
I might set hidden wisdom in the open field

Might bring precious goods for sale
Might give enlightenment to the heedless
Might revive the position of good will.

At this time, the Great Ruler, the Shāhinshāh of the world, commanded the writing the account of his rule. Wings came to my soul, and strength to my tongue, and in an admirable manner I brought the hidden things of the heart from the soul's ocean to the shore of paper. The duty of obedience was performed, and the thanks due for favours received were in part paid.

Though my desire was always seeking utterance
Yet fulfilment was in pawn to the proper season
May the life-soothing inspiration come soon
So that it may be the adorner of my soul.

Most old authors and many writers of the present day, who all hold the same language, and string their words after one fashion, and display a worn-out embroidery, give all their attention to the orna­mentation of words, and regard matter as subservient to them, and so exert themselves in a reverse direction. They consider cadences* and decorative style as the constituents of eloquence, and think that prose should be tricked out like the works* of poets. They make the collo­cation * of words, the art of derivations,* the rules of paronomasia,* and homonyms* their central point. They expend their talents on quotations (iqtibās), the use of synonyms (istihilāl), allusions,* the invention of enigmas and the reciting of panegyrics* and genealogies. They think that fantastic embellishments are language's capital and do not look to the weighty matters of eloquence, and the glories of the spirit. A few abandon the old methods when they career in the spiritual arena. These regard minutiae and fantastic notions as the game to be pursued in that region, and consider an involved style, and far-fetched metaphors, which bear upon themselves the marks of the disapproval of good judges, as the ornaments of discourse, and do not discriminate between novel obscurities, out of which they fashion the philosopher's stone of wisdom, and the initial* difficulties of cognition. The general crowd of writers set down nothing but what is true and commonplace, and open the lips of reproach against both the above kinds of obscure diction. By the commands of my heart, the help of my resolution, and the robustness of my good for­tune, a new palace has been constructed for composition in this aus­picious record (humāyūn nāma), and description has assumed a new gait. The weaving hand of idiosyncrasy has been clasped by the teaching of wisdom and the guidance of choice and brilliant spirits. My jewel has been taken to acute connoisseurs,* and water-drops have moistened the burning hearts of those in the desert of search.

I broke to pieces my talisman
But from each letter I made a new one,

Know that whoever desires to see me
May behold my life's marrow in this roll
If I'm a veiled spirit, this is my body,
If I were Joseph this were his coat.

Meetings were held to praise and to blame (A. F.'s book), and there was a new market-day for approbation and disapprobation. Those who took the path of reflection and did not fall a prey to custom (taqlīd), who opened the seeing eye and exerted themselves (lit. practised sweeping) in searching for heart-touching language and for a heart appreciative of language, and who did not from the pressure of circumstances and the length of time required give way to weariness, received the reward of their labour and exulted in joy. Their congratulations drowned me with the perspiration of modesty. Those who remained in the thornbrake of their nature and who from failure in ability, and from companionship with the faction which had staked their money in the old petty shops, uplifted their heads for disapproval. Incompetent critics underwent the torments of envy, and sate wasting their hearts and their souls. They loosed the tongue of reproof and begrimed with dust the simple-hearted.

I am dust on the path of those jewellers
Who, when they, differing from the malevolent,
Open this day this treasury of jewels
Will open eyes which choose justice.

A certain enlightened man was well-disposed towards me, and used to regard me with friendly eyes. Our conversation turned upon the book, and out of kindness he said to me, “Why do you take such pains (zaḥmat), and why do you write in such a style? Will one out of thousands come into existence who will read this glorious volume aright, and be instructed by the new magic of its method? From whom do you expect the effectual recognition of the Truth? When shall an exalted sage draw the veil from over your work? 'Twere far better to fold away these new-fangled coverlets (table carpets), and to speak in the language of the age, and to spread a plenteous table for the generality!”

My soul was soothed by his appreciation, and I was delighted with his affection. The nobleness of his personality induced me to answer him, and I opened out the casket of truth. “There's ample provision for ordinary guests. I am preparing a dainty morsel for the Unique One of Time. What have I to do with a crowd? Celestial things are glorified by being presented nobly to the king of enlightenment. What connection have they with the common herd?

What business has the kite with the pigeon?
Such game is only for the royal falcon.

The passed* master of acute seekers after wisdom was also convinced, and rendered powerful help to my enterprise.

Mankind may be divided into four classes: First—There are the darkened and contumacious who do not listen to reproof (lit. do not make reproof a constituent of their hearing) and do not convey it from the wicket of the ear to the chamber of the heart. Or if it does find its way, it is not accepted. Or if accepted, it is not acted upon. Second—Those ill-conditioned, evil-natured ones who reckon their own ignorance as knowledge, and who are proud of their health when they are suffering from incurable disease. Third— Those seekers after light, and those well-constituted natures who have escaped from the demons-castle of envy and the dark pit (sīyāh cāl) of ignorance, and engage in the pains of Search, but who from perverse fate and their evil star cannot attain to Iofty, spiritual knowledge and to whom the veiled beauties of Wisdom's seraglio but rarely show themselves. Fourth—That illustrious man of a happy star who, along with treasures of knowledge, possesses loftiness of soul and great genius, and who from profundity of per­ception ever fares forward. He who knows the world chooses naught but silence with respect to the first three, and opens not the casket of speech save to this truth-seeking jeweller (i.e., expert), so that the lamp of knowledge may be kindled, and its radiance may embrace every one!”

“Son* of Wisdom, why do you tattle and utter vain things? Since you have introduced speech of a new texture, and have not adapted it to the appraisement of contemporaries, what is the end of all this word-selling (i.e., speech). And wherefore is the head of assertion exalted? Though you may be speaking truth and not be praising your own idea, yet it is far better to erase from the page of existence a feature which looks like arrogance, and not stain the garment of your pure mind with this unbecoming language.

“Be not drowned in the water of thy own merits.
Look to a standing-place for thy feet
Thousands of boats have sunk in this whirlpool
And not a plank has come ashore.”

The truthful and appreciative assayers of speech, and judges of its lofty rank know that in this noble hall* of audience five things of great price should be gathered. First—Spiritual brilliance must cast her ray from high heaven on a pure heart and make it her auspicious landingplace. Second—A choice combination of opposite qualities must clothe the secluded ones of the heart's bright chamber with the painted silks (parniyān) of words, and so associate those daughters of the spirit with elemental forms that they may make a wondrous compound like that of soul and body. Third—A new, heart-delighting and grief dispelling plan must clarify the ears, and exalt the soul. Fourth—Arrangement* and taste must give spiritu­ality its proper setting. Ambiguous* expressions must be rejected. The theme must be brought into its proper mansion, and speech—the lover—must be adorned both spiritually and physically. Fifth—The rhetorician must keep his style free from obscurity and disagreeable tautology. Nor must frigid* glances, or heavy features be admitted into the assembly, and also there must not be anything trite or hackneyed. There must be animation and rosy friendliness. To all this collection of goodness there must be added suitable time, and opportunity must help speech so that a right intention, singleness of aim, strenuous search, and the vigorous help of wisdom may all meet in one place. Constant supplication and the favour of the Incomparable Creator must be accompaniments (doshadosh, lit. shoulder to shoulder). And every one of these requisites carries along with it many conditions and ancillary points. This noble volume cannot reckon them, nor my limited leisure admit of describing them. But a trusty helper is indispensable who should by the light of his intelli­gence search for faults with the eye of an enemy and should address himself as a friend to their amendment. Evidently the companionship of such a distinguished man, elixir of wisdom, and arranger might constitute a sixth jewel of great price. On this day when my heart is distracted, and my soul pawned in a thousand places, and when I am unfamiliar with Persian diction, and the true guide unavailable, how can my heart's desire be accomplished? And what hope is there of a happy issue? Above all, at this time, when the glory of spiritu­ality, adorner of speech, balance of wisdom, scale of truth, my eldest brother Shaikh Abu-l-faiẓ-faiẓī, who was as a father to me, has departed from the troubled house of the elements to the holy resting-place, and eloquence's bride sits mourning! My condition became still more bewildered and my heart snapped the links of understand­ing. I was aroused by a Divine message,* and fell into a long repentance.