Islám Sháh after quelling the Niyází disturbances, returned to A´grah, but almost immediately afterwards his presence was again required in the Panjáb, and it was there that Shaikh 'Aláí joined the royal camp. When Islám Sháh saw the Shaikh, he said to him in a low voice, “Whisper into my ear that you recant, and I will not trouble you.” But Shaikh 'Aláí would not do so, and Islám Sháh, to keep up the appearance of authority, ordered a menial to give him by way of punishment a few cuts with the whip in his presence. Shaikh 'Aláí had then scarcely recovered from an attack of the plague, which for several years had been raging in India, and had a few badly healed wounds on his neck. Whilst he got the cuts, one of the wounds broke open, and 'Aláí fainted and died. His body was now thrown under the feet of an elephant, and orders were given that no one should bury him, when all at once, to the terror of the whole camp and the king who believed that the last day had dawned, a most destructive cyclone broke forth. When the storm abated, 'Aláí's body was found literally buried among roses and other flowers, and an order was now forthcoming to have the corpse interred. This happened in 957 [A. D., 1550]. People prophesied the quick end of Islám Sháh and the downfal of his house.*

Makhdúm ul-Mulk was never popular after that.

The features common to all Mahdawí movements, are (1) that the preachers of the latter days were men of education and of great oratorical powers, which gave them full sway over the multitudes; and (2) that the Mahdawís assumed a hostile position to the learned men who held office at Court. Islám has no state clergy; but we find a counterpart to our hierarchical bodies in the 'Ulamás about Court, from whom the Sadrs of the provinces, the Mír 'Adls, Muftís, and Qázís were appointed. At Dihlí and A´grah, the body of the learned had always consisted of stanch Sunnís, who believed it their duty to keep the kings straight. How great their influence was, may be seen from the fact that of all Muhammadan emperors only Akbar, and perhaps 'Aláuddín Khiljí, suc­ceeded in putting down this haughty set.

The death of Shaikh 'Aláí was a great triumph for the Court 'Ula­más, and a vigorous persecution of all Mahdawí disciples was the imme­diate result. The persecutions lasted far into Akbar's reign. They abated only for a short time when the return of Humáyún and the downfal of the Afghán power brought about a violent political crisis, during which the learned first thought of their own safety, well knowing that Humáyún was strongly in favour of Shí'ism; but when Akbar was firmly established, and the court at A´grah, after the fall of Bairám Khán, who was a Shí'ah, again teemed with Hindústání Sun­nís, the persecutions commenced. The hatred of the court party against Shaikh Mubárak especially rose to such a height, that Shaikh 'Abdunnabí and Makhdúm ul-Mulk represented to the emperor that inasmuch as Mubárak also belonged to the Mahdawís and was, therefore, not only himself damned, but led also others into damnation, he deserved to be killed. They even obtained an order to bring him before the emperor. Mubárak wisely fled from A´grah, only leaving behind him some furniture for his enemies to reek their revenge on. Concealing himself for a time, he applied to Shaikh Salím Chishtí of Fathpúr Síkrí for intercession; but being advised by him to withdraw to Gujarát, he implored the good offices of Akbar's foster-brother, the generous Khán i A'zam Mírzá Kokah, who succeeded in allaying all doubts in the mind of the emperor by dwelling on the poverty of the Shaikh and on the fact that, different from his covetous accusers, he had not cost the state any­thing by way of freeholds, and thus obtained at least security for him and his family. Mubárak some time afterwards applied indeed for a grant of land for his son Abul Faiz, who had already acquired literary fame, though he was only twenty years old, and waited personally with his son on Shaikh 'Abdunnabí. But the latter, in his theological pride, turned them out his office as men suspected of Mahdawí leanings and Shí'ah tendencies. Even in the 12th year of Akbar's reign, when Faizí's poems* had been noticed at court,—Akbar then lay before Chítor— and a summons had been sent to the young poet to present himself before his sovereign, the enemies at A´grah saw in the invitation a sign of approaching doom, and prevailed on the governor to secure the victim this time. The governor thereupon sent a detachment of Mughul soldiers to surround Mubárak's house. Faizí was accidentally away from home, and the soldiers suspecting a conspiracy, subjected Mubárak to various sorts of ill-treatment; and when Faizí at last came, he was carried off by force to Chítor.* Nor did his fears for his father and his own life vanish, till his favourable reception at court convinced him both of Abkar's good will and the blindness of his personal enemies.

Abul Fazl had in the meantime grown up zealously studying under the care of his father. The persecutions which Shaikh Mubárak had to suffer for his Mahdawí leanings at the hands of the learned at Court, did not fail to make a lasting impression on his young mind. There is no doubt that it was in this school of misfortune that Abul Fazl learned the lesson of toleration, the practice of which in later years formed the basis of Akbar's friendship for him; while, on the other hand, the same pressure of circumstances stimulated him to unusual exertions in study­ing, which subsequently enabled him during the religious discussions at Court to lead the opposition and overthrow by superior learning and broader sentiments the clique of the 'Ulamás, whom Akbar hated so much.

At the age of fifteen, he showed the mental precocity so often observed in Indian boys; he had read works on all branches of those sciences which go by the name of hikamí and naqlí, or ma'qúl and manqúl.* Following the footsteps of his father, he commenced to teach long before he had reached the age of twenty. An incident is related to shew how extensive even at that time his reading was. A manuscript of the rare work of Içfahání happened to fall into his hands. Unfortunately, how­ever, one half of each page, vertically downwards from top to bottom, was rendered illegible, or was altogether destroyed, by fire. Abul Fazl, determined to restore so rare a book, cut away the burnt portions, pasted new paper to each page, and then commenced to restore the missing halves of each line, in which attempt after repeated thoughtful perusals he succeeded. Some time afterwards, a complete copy of the same work turned up, and on comparison it was found that in many places there were indeed different words, and in a few passages new proofs even had been adduced; but on the whole the restored portion presented so many points of extraordinary coincidence, that his friends were not a little astonished at the thoroughness with which Abul Fazl had worked himself into the style and mode of thinking of a difficult author.