ON the death of Sheykh Ferīdūn, Chelebī Husāmu-'d-Dīn was appointed by Jelāl his assistant in place of the deceased saint. For another ten years these two spiritual friends worked together in perfect unity as Superior and Assistant. Husām was surnamed “the Juneyd and the Bāyezīd* of the age,” “the Key of the Treasuries of God's throne,” “the Trustee of the Treasures on earth,” and “God's next Friend in the World.”

Husām once made his obeisance to Jelāl, and related to him that, when the disciples recited the poetry of the Mesnevī, and became entranced, he had himself seen a company of invisible ones, armed with clubs and scimi­tars, keeping guard over them. If any one did not listen to those sacred words with reverence and believing, the clubs and swords were brought into play, and he was hurled into the pit of hell-fire. Jelāl confirmed, as being a fact, all Husām had related.

Husāmu-'d-Dīn was very eloquent, pious, and God-fearing. He would never use the water, even, of the college, for drink or for ablutions; but always brought his water from his own home for those purposes. He distributed, to the very last farthing, the whole of the revenues of the college among the disciples.

Sultan Veled and his friends went one day to Husām's garden. Some of the disciples felt a desire to eat of some honey, but had said nothing on the subject. Husām read their thoughts. He therefore ordered his gardener to bring some new honeycomb from a certain hive. More, and more, and still more comb was brought, until all were satisfied; still, the hive was yet full. When they left his garden, Husām sent the hive with them; and for a long time it supplied all their wants.

A severe drought afflicted Qonya and its environs. Prayers for rain were publicly offered without avail.

Recourse was now had to Husāmu-'d-Dīn, who was begged to intercede for the people, and to pray for rain.

He first went to Jelāl's tomb, there performed his devo­tions to God, and then put up the prayer for rain, his disciples weeping as they chanted “Amen.”

Clouds now began to collect and lower; shortly after which an abundance of rain was vouchsafed.

Not only were all the revenues of the college, arising from its endowments, committed by Jelāl to the sole administration of Husām, but, whatever gifts and contribu­tions were offered by princes and friends, in money or in kind, they were all consigned to his care, to augment the resources of the general fund. Jelāl's family, and also his son, though often pinched, fared as the disciples.

The disciples were both surprised and scandalised, at one time, by Husām's publicly speaking very much in praise of certain individuals who bore an extremely bad character, while he disparaged certain others who were noted for their pious lives.

They complained to Jelāl; but he confirmed what Husām had said, and remarked to them: “God looks only to man's heart. Those seemingly lewd fellows are really God-loving saints, while those outwardly pious livers are merely inward hypocrites.”

One day Husām was lecturing. Suddenly he beckoned to one of the disciples, and told him to go with all speed to the royal palace, ask to see the queen, give her his greeting, and say to her: “Instantly quit this apartment thou art in, if thou wouldest avoid impending destruction, the result of God's decree.”

The queen believed his word, and at once removed to another part of the palace. The apartment was speedily stripped of its furniture; and scarcely had the last loads been removed, when, with a loud crash, the building fell in. Her faith in his miraculous power was thenceforward increased a hundredfold.

A certain Sheykh died at Qonya, who was rector of two different colleges. The prince who was the trustee of both, elected to nominate Husāmu-'d-Dīn as rector of one of them; and a great entertainment was prepared by the prince for the occasion.

Jelāl was informed of the arrangement, and he expressed the intention to bear himself Husām's carpet to his new college, and himself spreading it for Husām in his new seat.

A certain brawler, a kinsman of Husām's, Akhī Ahmed by name, was of the company; and he had felt nettled at Husām's appointment. He came forward, snatched away Husām's carpet, gave it to one of his companions to cast out of the building, and exclaimed: “We will not suffer this fellow to be installed here as Sheykh.”

Great confusion ensued. Several nobles of the Akhī clan, who were present, drew their swords and knives, a scene of blood appearing to be about to commence.

Jelāl now addressed the crowd, reproaching them for such behaviour. He told them that their family and college would not prosper, but that the Mevlevī order, founded by himself, and his lineal posterity would go on ever steadily increasing. He then related the following anecdote:—

“A certain Sheykh from Samarqand, Abū-'l-Lays by name, went on his travels for about twenty years, with a view to study, partly at Mekka. At length he set out on his return home, whither his reputation, as well as numerous disciples, had preceded him.

“Arrived at the outskirts of his native place, he went to the riverside to perform an ablution. There he found a number of women, occupied with laundry work. From among these, one old woman advanced, looked at him attentively, and then exclaimed: ‘Why, if here isn't our little Abū-'l-Lays come back again! Go quickly, girls, and carry the news to our family.’

“The Sheykh returned forthwith to his party of fellow-travellers, and gave orders for their beasts to be at once reloaded for an immediate return to Damascus. On being questioned as to his reason for this sudden change of intention he answered: ‘My people still think of me as “little Abū-'l-Lays,” and will treat me with familiar indig­nity accordingly, esteeming me of small account, and thereby committing a grievous sin; for it is an incumbent duty on all to honour the learned and the wise. To respect them is to show reverence to the apostle of God, and to revere him is to serve the Creator.’

“Now, the truth was that, when a child, his father had always called him ‘little Abū-'l-Lays.’ But strangers would not so understand that term of endearment; they would think it one of too free and easy familiarity, and as likely to draw down on the city and its inhabitants the divine displeasure. It was not consistent with true affec­tion to allow the possibility of such a visitation to occur.”

Having delivered himself of this constructive reprimand, Jelāl left the college barefoot, and in high dudgeon. The chief people came after him to intercede, but he would not be pacified. Their intervention was declined, and he refused to be reconciled with the broiler, Akhī Ahmed. He would not consent to go near that offender, who died soon afterwards; though most of his sons, relatives, and even his fellow-revellers, became disciples of Jelāl's.

The Sultan would have caused him to be put to death at once; but Jelāl would not permit that.

Akhī Ahmed was never again allowed to show himself at any public reception, and was shunned by all, like the wandering Jew.

Eventually, Husāmu-'d-Dīn was appointed rector of both the colleges in question; and Ahmed's son, Akhī 'Alī, was a disciple of Sultan Veled.