“My face is calm in spite of the bitter words of men,
Poison is in my mouth, but my face is wreathed in smiles.”

And that was my last sight of him until the Judgment-day, and my very last farewell of him. I heard two or three days after I arrived at Fatḥ-púr, that his sickness had turned to a flux. He was so refined in the crucible of abstinence, that what remained of impurity in him, by reason of human nature and the infirmity of the flesh, entirely left him, and the alloy of his nature becoming pure gold, he became purified by fire, for ‘Trial is to the Saints what the flame is to gold’:—

“All carnal attributes have departed from Mas'ud Beg,
That of him which was Soul is become that very Soul again.”

And—that he might attain the full felicity of a true and regular martyrdom, in accordance with the authentic tradition: ‘He that is afflicted with the colic is a martyr,’ in that distress of expatriation, and grief of exile, and trouble of penury, together with the accident of a wound from Infidels received in a hostile country, and the dis­traction of relaxed liver, he removed his baggage from this transitory existence to the eternal Paradise: and the Bird of his Soul escaping from the Cage of this World, that prison of the Believer, at the in­vitation: “Return thou, O soul, unto thy Lord, well pleased and wellpleasing,”* flew towards the Rose-bed, to dwell there in “rest, and in gracious favour, and a garden of delights:”*

“None ever came into the world, who remained there,
Except he, of whom a good name remained.”

Although he gave away whole worlds of gold to the deserving and the needy, yet when he took his departure to the other world [he was so poor, that] his excellence of regal qualities, exalted in degrees, and holy in his attributes, Khwájah Muḥammad Yaḥyá Naqshbandí (the Spirit of God is his Spirit!) brought the expenses of his burial, and with all honour* and respect deposited him in peace in the strangers' burial-place at Ágrah:—

“How can I see him sleeping in the dust,
(P. 222) Him, who has raised me from the dust!”

Thence he was carried to the cemetery of Patyálí, which became his burial-place, and they made him like a buried treasure: and Ganj-bakhsh* ‘Bestower of treasure’ was found to give the date. And when, on my following the Mír 'Adal* (who is now departed himself to the mercy of God) on his journey to Bakkar, I told him of the decease of this man, so rich of heart but poor in purse, he burst into tears, and began to extol his purity and ability, and said: “If any one wish to practice walking unspotted from the world, he ought to act and walk, just as Ḥusain Khán acted and walked:”—

“I am the slave of that man, who, under the blue sky,
Is free from whatever partakes of the tinge of dependance.”

It so happened that this interview also, with the Mír, became memorable to the author: and from the expression made use of by that great man on that occasion, viz., “All my friends are departed and I know not whether I shall ever see you again,” you would have said that his star was sinking; and so it in fact was:—

“As long as in this flock there remains a single sheep,
Fate will not desist* from the butcher-trade.”

Let it not be forgotten that the author enjoyed the society of that unique one* of the age for the space of about nine years, and [but] one piece of opposition (though to use so strong a term in connec­tion with him were a shame, and a dire injustice) did I meet with from him, and that was in military matters, and the affairs of this world. And among the many venerable persons and spiritual directors of the age, who still remain, I do not find a tithe of a tenth part of that I found in him, [who was] in the Sunní section [of Islám] pure in faith, and in purity of conduct perfectly sincere and upright, in spirit without an equal, in valour peerless, in courtesy alike in his beheavour both to small and great, and in dis­interestedness without an equal in the age, in detachment from worldly objects stainless, in active service untiring, in dependence on God without compare, in asceticism worthy of a hundred praises; but if he had lived in these days he would hardly have been able to have attained such a character for orthodox and sincere religion.* (P. 223.) At the time that he was absolute governor of Láhor (I have it from trustworthy people), his food consisted of barley-bread, his object being to follow the example of the Seal of the Prophets and best of Apostles* (the blessings of God be on him, and on them all!): and ever so many thousands of mosques and ancient se-pulchres he repaired, restored, or rebuilt. One day it happened that a Hindú in the dress of a Muslim came into his assembly, and he with his usual genuine humility, taking him for a Muslim, stood up to greet that Hindú. When he found out the true state of the case, he felt ashamed and ordererd that from that day forward all Hindús should sew a patch of stuff of a different colour on their garments near the bottom of the sleeve, that there might be a mark to dis­tinguish between Muslims and Káfirs.* For this reason he was commonly known among the people by the title of Tukriya, for they call a patch tukrá,* which is another name for the Arabic word Ghiyár* (with kasra under the dotted 'ain, and ye with two dots below,*

so that it is of the form of the word diyár).* On another occasion he ordered that the Káfirs, in accordance with the requirements of the Holy Law, should not ride on saddles, but should sit on a pack­saddle. When on a journey, out of deference to the Sayyids, and men of learning and excellence (who used to attend him, and to greet whom he, when seated, used always to rise), he would never use a four-post bedstead: nor would he voluntarily omit saying the Prayers in the night any more than the Friday prayers in the mosque. And, although he had a jágír worth lacs and krors, he never had more than one horse with him, and even that he would sometimes give away to meet some expense, or for some worthy object, and so whether on a journey or at home would be content to go afoot, until one of his friends, or of his servants, brought him another. And a poet in a qaçídah said:—

“The Khán is bankrupt, and the slave is wealthy.”

He had taken an oath that he would never amass treasure, and whenever gold was brought before him he would say: “You would say that it is an arrow or a javelin that pierces my side” (P. 224), and he was never at ease until he had given it away. And some­times it would be observed that, when the Government had assigned some fifteen to thirty or forty thousand rupees on the pargana,* he, regardless of this, would sign orders for the soldiers and for other expenses also, so that both* would get an equal share. He also had a vow that every slave who came into his possession should have the first day to himself. He never had anything to do with any women except his three legally married wives. He looked on nuts as a sort of intoxicating food, and as therefore forbidden by the religion. One day the Shaikh-ul-hidyah of Khairábád (who was one of the leading Shaikhs on the high way of direction and guidance of pos­terity) being exercised at the Khán's voluntary poverty, and expen­diture, and squandering of property, and unnecessary presents, and extreme extravagance in the distribution of pensions and grants,*

endeavoured to urge him to a change in those habits. But this advice was not in harmony with his disposition, so becoming angry he said: “It is simply a question between obeying your order in the matter, and following the tradition of the Prophet; what choice can there be? On the other hand we expect from such as you religious guides, that, if there be any root of avarice or desire for the things of this world in us, you should show us the way by which we may eradicate and cut off such a matter; and not that you should be the ones to lend a false glitter to the accessories of transient trifles, and should make us avaricious, so as to sink among the lowest of the low in the unworthy pursuit of greed and avarice:—