and most of mountain like elephants moving like clouds he gave to the wind, and that proverb became true “one soldier flees, and it is all over with the soldiery.”

The Khán Khánán remained some days at this place to heal his own wounds, and those of his men. And Lashkar Khán, who had been mortally wounded, joined the host (lashkar) of the Father of all flesh.* Meanwhile Dáúd in his flight had reached Katak Banáras* so the Khán Khánán sent Rájah Todar Mal, with Sháhim Khán Jaláír, and Qiyá Khán, and Sayyid 'Abdulláh Khán, and Muḥammad Qulí Khán Toqyáí, and Sa'íd Khán Badakhshí in pursuit of him, and promised to follow them himself as soon as his wounds were healed. This army marched as far as Kalkal-g'hátí. Dáúd and the rest of the Afgháns held Katak Banáras, and finding the wide field of honour to be contracted around them, determined to fight to the death, and made energetic preparations to with­stand the seige. When the Khán Khánán heard news of this, he set off in person for Katak Banáras and alighted on the banks of the Mahánadi,* and brought forward proposals of peace. After considerable opposition and difficulty it was settled with the Amírs that Dáúd should come and have an interview with the Khán Khánán, and that a reasonable portion of the wide kingdom of Bengál, in conformity with the advice and consent of the Amírs, should be assigned to him. On the day appointed a royal feast in the style of Jamshíd and Áfrídún was arranged, and the Amírs took their proper places in accordance with their ranks, and the troops were drawn up in splendid array at the door of the audience-pavilion. On the other side the officers of Bengál with a pomp and grandeur (P. 197) like Solomon's came out from Katak Banáras with the chieftains of the Afgháns, and entering the camp of the Khán Khánán proceeded towards the audience-pavilion. The Khán Khánán with the greatest humility and respect practised all the ceremonies of reverence, and even advanced half way down the pavilion to meet them. When they met, Dáúd loosed his sword, and laying it before the Khán Khánán said, “Since it brings wounds and pain on such worthy men as you, I am sick of war.” The Khán Khánán gave the sword to one of his body-guard, and taking Dáúd's hand led him to a cushion, and made him sit down by his side, and made the most kind and fatherly inquiries. All kinds of food and drinks and sweetmeats were served, and the Khán Khánán pressed him to partake of the dainties, and entertained him with great good humour and graciousness. After the removal of the dishes they proceeded to business, and drew up a treaty. Then the Khán Khánán sent for a sword with a jewelled belt out of his own stores, and binding it on Dáúd's wrist said, “Since you have chosen the path of loyalty, accept this sword on the part of the Emperor. As for the district of Bengál, a farmán will be forwarded to you, in accordance with the request which I shall make.” Then showing him every courtesy, and making him a great variety of precious gifts, he dismissed him. Thus the meeting passed off in all friendliness and good-will. On the 10th of the month Çafar in the year nine hundred and eighty-three (983) the Khán Khánán arrived at Tándah the capital, whence he wrote a despatch to the Emperor containing an account of all that had happened. The Emperor sent him in return a farmán worded in accordance with his request, together with a present of gorgeous robes of honour, and a jewelled sword-belt, and an Arab horse and a saddle and bridle, and com­mitting once more the affair of Bengál to his sole charge he en­trusted the reins of independent power to the hand of his capacity.

(P. 198). On the 16th of the month Jamáda'-s-sáná (l-awwal) of this year his reverence the pole-star of pole-stars, the depository of spiritual guidance, and refuge of saintships (successor to that godlike Ghaus,* that divine pole-star, Shaikh Muḥi-ud-dín 'Abd-ul-qádir Jílání) Miyán Shaikh Dáúd Jahní Wál* passed from this transitory world to the garden of Eden, and “O Shaikh Dáúd Walí* was found to give the date. And the author found the following mnemosynon: “Perfection of victory.”*

After the Emperor's return from his journey to Ajmír in the month Zí-ul-qa'dah of the year nine hundred and eighty-two (982) the building of the Ibádat-khánah, consisting of four halls, near the new palace in Fatḥpúr, took place. An account of the details thereof, not devoid of prolixity, will, if the glorious God will permit be written on a suitable occasion.

It was during these days that Abu-l-Fazl, son of Shaikh Mubárik of Nágor, came the second time to Court. He is now styled 'Allámí. He is the man that set the world in flames. He lighted up the lamp of the Çabáḥís, illustrating thereby the story of the man who, because he did not know what to do, took up a lamp in broad daylight,* and representing himself as opposed to all sects, tied the girdle of infallibility round his waist, according to the saying: “He who continually takes the offensive, does not com­mit himself as to his true opinions.” He laid before the Emperor a Commentary on the Áyat-ul-Kursí,* which contained all the sub­tleties of the Qur'án; and though people said it was written by his father, Abu-l-Fazl was much praised. The numerical value of the letters in the words Tafsír-i-Akbarí,* gives the date of the com­position. But the Emperor praised it, chiefly because he expected to find in Abu-l-Fazl a man capable of teaching the Mullás a lesson (whose pride certainly resembles that of Pharaoh), though this expec­tation was opposed to the confidence which his Majesty had placed in the auther of these pages.

The reason of Abu-l-Fazl's opinionativeness and pretensions to infallibility was this. At the time when it was customary to get hold of, and kill such as tried to introduce innovations in religious matters (as had been the case with Mír Ḥabshí and others), Shaikh 'Abd-un-nabí and Makhdúm-ul-Mulk, and other learned men at Court, unanimously represented to the Emperor that Shaikh Mubá-rik also, in as far as he pretended to be Mahdí* (P. 199), belonged to the class of innovators, and was not only himself damned, but led others into damnation. Having obtained a sort of permission to remove him, they despatched police officers to bring him before the Emperor. But, when they found that the Shaikh with his two sons had concealed himself, they demolished the pulpit in his prayer-room. The Shaikh at first took refuge with Salím Chistí at Fatḥpúr, who was then in the height of his glory, and requested-him to intercede for him. Shaikh Salím, however, sent him money by some of his disciples, and told him it would be better for him to go away to Gujrát. Seeing Salím took no interest in him, Shaikh Mubárik applied to Mírzá 'Aziz Kokah,* who took occasion to praise to the Emperor the Shaikh's learning and voluntary poverty, and the superior talents of his two sons, adding that Mubárik was a most trustworthy man, that he had never received lands as a present, and that he himself could really not see why the Shaikh was so much persecuted. The Emperor at last gave up all thoughts of killing the Shaikh. In a short time matters took a still more favourable turn: and Abu-l-Fazl, when once in favour with the Emperor (officious as he was, and time-serving, openly faithless, continually studying the Emperor's whims, a flatterer beyond all bounds), took every oppor­tunity of reviling in the most shameful way that sect whose labours and motives have been so little appreciated, and became the cause not only of the extirpation of these experienced people, but also of the ruin of all the servants of God, especially of Shaikhs, and pious men, of the helpless and orphans, whose livings and grants he cut down. He used continually to say:—