Kirā Khātūn, the widow of Jelāl, is reported to have related to a friend that there was in their household a candlestick of the height of a man, before which Jelāl used to stand on foot the night through, until daydawn, studying the writings of his father.
One night, a company of the genii, dwellers in the college where Jelāl and his wife lived, appeared to her in a body, to complain of the great inconvenience and suffering to which they were subjected by this practice of Jelāl's, and saying: “We can put up with it no longer. Take care, lest we do a mischief to some one in the college.”
The lady reported this complaint of the genii to her husband. He merely smiled, and took no further notice of the matter for several days.
At the end of that time, however, he spoke of it, and told his wife to trouble herself no more about the threat of the genii, as he had converted them all. They had become disciples of his, and would certainly do no harm to any friend or dependent of their teacher.
It was related by one of the chief of Jelāl's disciples, a butcher by trade, a trainer of dogs for the chase, and a purveyor of horses of the best kind, which he used to sell to princes and grandees at high prices, that, at a certain time, Jelāl was much exercised by visions from the spiritual world, so that for forty days he was as though beside himself, passing through the streets with his head bare, and his turban twisted round his neck.
After that, he came suddenly one day, bathed in perspiration, to the butcher, and said he wanted a certain unbroken horse to be saddled for him immediately. The butcher, with the help of three stable-men, managed with the utmost difficulty to saddle the horse and bring him out. Jelāl mounted him without opposition, and set off in a southerly direction. The butcher asked whether he should accompany him, and Jelāl replied: “Give me your prayers and holy good wishes.”
In the evening Jelāl returned covered with dust. The poor horse, though of gigantic frame, was reduced to mere skin and bone, being nearly broken-backed with fatigue.
The next day he came again, and asked for another horse, better than the one of yesterday, mounted it, and rode off. He returned at the hour of sunset devotions, and this horse also was reduced to a pitiable condition. The butcher dared not offer a word of remonstrance.
On the third day he came again, mounted a third horse, and returned as before, at sunset. He sat down now in the most composed manner possible, and called out cheerily: “Good news! Glad tidings, O ye of the Faith! That dog of hell has gone back to his pit of fire!”
The butcher was too much astonished at his manner to feel any inclination to inquire what these words might mean; but a certain number of days afterwards, a large caravan came into Qonya from Syria, and brought news that the Mogul army had besieged Damascus, and had reduced it to straits.
Helaw Khan (Holagu, Helagu) had taken Bagdad in A.H. 655 (A.D. 1257-58). Two years later, A.H. 657 (A.D. 1259-60), he advanced against Aleppo and Syria, sending his general, Ketbuga, against Damascus with a numerous army. He laid siege to the city. But the inhabitants witnessed, with their very own eyes, that Jelāl came and joined himself there to the forces of Islām. He inflicted defeat on the Mogul forces, who were compelled to retreat, totally frustrated.
The butcher was overjoyed at this welcome intelligence, and went forthwith to communicate the news to Jelāl. The latter smilingly replied: “Yes, yes! Jelālu-'d-Dīn was the horseman who obtained a victory over the enemy, and showed himself a Sultan in the eyes of the people of Islām.” On hearing this, his disciples rent the air with their shouts of joy and triumph, and the townspeople of Qonya decked out and illuminated the city, holding public rejoicings.
This miracle of power became noised abroad, and everywhere Jelāl's friends and adherents were transported with ecstasy at its occurrence.
On one occasion a rich merchant of Tebrīz came to Qonya. He inquired of his agents there who was the most eminent man of learning and piety in the city, as he wished to go and pay his respects to him. He remarked to them: “It is not merely for the sake of making money that I travel about in every country on earth; I desire also to make the acquaintance of every man of eminence I can find in each city.”
His correspondents told him that the Sheykhu-'l-Islām of the capital had a great reputation for learning and piety, and that they would be proud to present him to that celebrated luminary. Accordingly, he selected a number of rarities from among his store, to the value of thirty sequins; and the party set out to visit the great lawyer.
The merchant found the dignitary lodged in a great palace, with guards at the gate, crowds of servants and attendants in the courtyard, and eunuchs, pages, grooms, ushers, chamberlains, and the like, in the halls.
Turning to his conductors, he expressed some doubt as to whether they had not, by mistake, brought him to the king's palace. They quieted his fears, and led him into the presence of the great fountain of legal erudition. He felt a very great dislike for all he saw; and he remarked to his friends: “A great lawyer is never anything the worse for possessing a clear conscience. A physician may himself indulge in sweetmeats; but he does not prescribe them to a patient suffering with fever.”
He now offered his presents; and then inquired of the great lawyer whether he could solve a doubt under which he was then labouring. This he stated as follows:—“Of late, I have been sustaining a series of losses. Can you indicate a way by which I may escape from that unfortunate position? I give, every year, the fortieth part of my liable possessions to the poor; and I distribute alms besides, to the extent of my power. I cannot conceive, therefore, why I am unfortunate.”
Other remarks he made also to the same effect. They appeared to be lost on the great luminary, who affected to be otherwise preoccupied. At length the merchant took leave without obtaining a solution to his difficulty.
The day following he inquired of his friends whether there did not chance to be, in the great city, some poor mendicant of exemplary piety, to whom he might offer his respects, and from whom he might, haply, learn what he longed to know, together with advice that would be of service to him. They answered: “Just such a man as thou describest is our Lord, Jelālu-'d-Dīn. He has forsaken all pleasures, save only his love towards God. Not only has he given up all concern for worldly matters, he has also renounced all care as to a future state. He passes his nights, as well as his days, in the worship of God; and he is a very ocean of knowledge in all temporal and spiritual subjects.”
The Tebrīz merchant was enchanted with this information. He begged to see that holy man, the bare mention of whose virtues had filled him with delight. They accordingly conducted him to the college of Jelāl, the merchant having privately furnished himself with a rouleau of fifty sequins in gold as his offering to the saint.
When they reached the college, Jelāl was sitting alone in the lecture-hall, immersed in the study of some books. The party made their obeisances, and the merchant felt himself completely overpowered at the aspect of the venerable teacher; so that he burst into tears, and could not utter a word. Jelāl addressed him, therefore, as follows:—
“The fifty sequins thou hast provided as thy offering are accepted. But better for thee than these are the two hundred sequins thou hast lost. God, whose glory be exalted, had determined to visit thee with a sore judgment and a heavy trial; but, through this thy visit here, He hath pardoned thee, and the trial is averted from thee. Be not dismayed. From this day forth thou shalt not suffer loss; and that which thou hast already suffered shall be made up to thee.”
The merchant was equally astonished and delighted at these words; more so, however, when Jelāl proceeded with his discourse: “The cause and reason of thy bygone losses and misfortunes was, that, on a certain day thou wast in the west of Firengistān (Europe), where thou wentest into a certain ward of a certain city, and there sawest a poor Firengī (European) man, one of the greatest of God's cherished saints, who was lying stretched out at the corner of a market-place. As thou didst pass by him, thou spattest on him, evincing aversion from him. His heart was grieved by thy act and demeanour. Hence the visitations that have afflicted thee. Go thou, then, and make thy peace with him, asking his forgiveness, and offering him our salutations.”
The merchant was petrified at this announcement. Jelāl then asked him: “Wilt thou that we this instant show him to thee?” So saying, he placed his hand on the wall of the apartment, and told the merchant to behold. Instantly, a doorway opened in the wall, and the merchant thence perceived that man in Firengistān, lying down in a market-place. At this sight he bowed down his head and rent his garments, coming away from the saintly presence in a state of stupor. He remembered all these incidents as facts.
Immediately commencing his preparations, he set out without delay, and reached the city in question. He inquired for the ward he wished to visit, and for the man whom he had offended. Him he discovered lying down, stretched out as Jelāl had shown him. The merchant dismounted from his beast, and made his obeisance to the prostrate Firengī dervish, who at once addressed him thus: “What wilt thou that I do? Our Lord Jelāl suffereth me not; or otherwise, I had a desire to make thee see the power of God, and what I am. But now, draw near.”
The Firengī dervish then clasped the merchant to his bosom, kissed him repeatedly on both cheeks, and then added: “Look now, that thou mayest see my Lord and Teacher, my spiritual Master, and that thou mayest witness a marvel.” The merchant looked. He saw the Lord Jelāl immersed in a holy dance, chanting this hymn, and entranced with sacred music:—
When the merchant happily reached Qonya on his return, he gave the salutations of the Firengī saint, and his respects, to Jelāl; and distributed much substance among the disciples. He settled at Qonya, and became a member of the fraternity of the Pure Lovers of God.
Jelāl was one day passing by a street, where two men were quarrelling. He stood on one side. One of the men called out to the other: “Say what thou will; thou shalt hear from me a thousandfold for every word thou mayest utter.”
Hereupon Jelāl stepped forward and addressed this speaker, saying: “No, no! Whatsoever thou have to say, say it to me; and for every thousand thou mayest say to me, thou shalt hear from me one word.”
On hearing this rebuke, the adversaries were abashed, and made their peace with one another.