He is the successor of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghau.* Few of the Shaikhs of this age can be his equals in Sūfī-istic converse. In his assembly the talk was ever of “true knowledge,” and nothing was spoken of save the contemplation of unity and the asceticism of the Sūfīs, but who knows what his private opinions may be,* or to what extent he will carry his claims? At the beginning of his career, when the report of him was spread abroad in all the surrounding country, I heard that the Shaikh had succeeded his father in the throne of holy poverty and religious leadership and that in some accomplisḥ-ments * he excelled him, for instance, that he could explain the meaning of the Qur'ān in such a manner that there was no need of a commentary,* besides having committed the Qur'ān to memory, so that he had it on the tip of his tongue. Accordingly in the year H. 970 (A.D. 1562-63) I went to visit him in Āgra, and that without* the intervention of any person to introduce me and to act as a mentor, and in the character of one who was altogether free from ceremony and had been long disappointed of his object, a character to which I had accustomed myself. Indeed, in visiting holy men worldly means and the intervention of men interested in externals only are disturbing elements in the attainment of one's object. I made the usual salutation and I had a conversation with him face to face. The Shaikh himself, from the high consideration in which he was held, was probably a slave to those ceremonial observances dear to Shaikhs' sons, and my unceremonial manner of visiting him displeased him. Those who were present in his assembly said to me, “Where do you come from?” I said, “From Sahsarām.”* When they asked me whether I had made any advance in the study of the sciences, I said that I had, at one time or another, studied a little of each one of them. Since Sahsawān is an inconsiderable town and at that time Qilīj Khan,* Caugān Begi, the disciple of the Shaikh's father, was jāgirdār of that place, I was of small account in his eyes, and he esteemed me lightly and began to jest with me and mock me, and made a sign to a jester who was present, prompting him to scare me and turn me out of my place, but I, becoming aware of these proceedings, the like of which I had often witnessed, pretended that I had noticed noth­ing and posed as an innocent fool. The jester then began his pranks, saying, “the odour of some sweet scent has reached my nostrils, and my brain is becoming disordered, let those who are present in the assembly have a care, lest I do some one a mis­chief.” He then began to foam at the mouth and one of the Shaikh's companions, who posed as a Ṣūfī, asked me whether I had applied the scent to myself. I said, “Yes; but what is the matter?” He said, “This person whom you see in this state of unconsciousness was once bitten by a mad dog, and now, when­ever he smells a sweet scent he falls to foaming at the mouth, howling like a dog, and tries to bite people. Have a care for yourself.” Those who were present there began to flee and the Shaikh too, inaugurating this new custom, joined with them in setting himself knowingly to terrify me, and became the accom­plice * of those devilish men. At that moment I said, “It is strange that men travel from distant lands to this exalted threshold in order to obtain the fulfilment of their desires when, as a matter of fact, one who has been bitten by a mad dog cannot find a remedy here.” The Shaikh asked me whether I knew of a remedy, and, on my replying that I did, asked me what it was. I replied, “This man should be beaten on the head with shoes and clods, as Shaikh Sa'dī (may God have mercy upon him!) said:—

They were all astonished, and I continued, “The strange thing is,” I said, “that kulūkh is also the name of a vegetable drug, which is a remedy for the bite of a dog.” The Shaikh then became uneasy,* fearing that his jest had fallen flat, and said, “Come, let us go and busy ourselves with the study of the words of God and His prophet.” Then, taking a copy of the glorious Qur'ān he proceeded to expound a verse from the chapter of “The Cow,”* and in doing so exercised the right of private judgment very freely.* His pupils, blockheads that they were, assented to every absurdity that he concocted, saying, “We believe it, we accept it!” I, since my heart was full (of indigna­tion) said, “Perhaps this interpretation which is given by the Shaikh is to be found in the commentary.” He replied, “I am speaking of the secondary meaning* of the text and what may be inferred from it,* and this is a common practice and by no means a peculiarity of my own.” I said, “Taking this for granted, is your interpretation literal or the metaphorical meaning of the text?” He replied, “The metaphorical meaning.” I replied, “Pray then explain the connection between the two interpreta­tions,” and led him on into an argument regarding the meanings of the text. He replied disconnectedly and glanced, in an agi­tated manner, in all directions. When I held him firmly to the point he lost his temper, and said, shutting up the Qur'ān, “I have not studied dialectics.” I said, “You have presumed so far as to interpret a text of the Qur'ān in a manner unsup­ported by tradition, and it is necessary that the connection between the literal interpretation and (your) metaphorical inter­pretation should be investigated.” He then turned the subject and began to ask me about myself. In the meantime I produced a portion of a commentary which I had written on the Qaṣīdatu'l-Burdah ,* and called his attention to the expressions in the open­ing couplet of that qaṣīdah which had struck me. He praised my work, and himself also said something on the same subject, and our interview came to an end in that manner. This was all I saw of him until the time when I entered the imperial service, when the Shaikh in obedience to a summons from the Court came alone and helpless to the ‘Ibādat-khāna, where he took his place. It was on a Friday when the Shaikh with one or two of his intimate companions first entered the ‘Ibadat-khāna and Mīrzā Ghiyāu-'d-din ‘Alī the theologian,* Mīrzā Ākh'und, and Mīrzā ‘Alī Āṣaf Khān* had been ordered to examine the Shaikh thoroughly and to question him on his Ṣūfī-ism, in order to see what he would let fall. Āṣaf Khān introduced into the conversa­tion the following quatrain from the Liwā‘iḥ,*

“If thoughts of the rose pass in thy heart, thou becomest a
rose,
If thoughts of the passionate nightingale pass, thou
becomest a nightingale,
Thou art only an atom, God is all,
If thou accustom thyself to meditate on Him who is all in
all, thou wilt become all.”

He then asked, “How can God the most Holy be described as “all” or “the whole,” since He is above being defined as a part or the whole?” The Shaikh who had undergone much tribula­tion before coming to Court, and whose pride, haughtiness and self-conceit were completely broken, since he had endured much trouble, was* very modest and indistinctly muttered a few words which nobody understood. At last I, growing bold, ventured to say, “Although the Maulavī Jāmī (may his tomb be sanctified!) has in this quatrain applied the expression “the whole” to God the most Holy and most High, yet he has in another quatrain spoken of Him as being divisible into parts, and far be that from the most High!

Quatrain.

“As for this love which is a part of the Indissoluble One
(whom) we (love)
God forbid that it should be comprehended of our intelli-
gence,
Happy will it be for us if there flash a ray from the light
of certainty
Which will free us from the darkness of our doubts.”

The meaning of these passages is that whatever can be con­ceived, whether it be the whole or a part, is nothing but God, and that besides Him there is no true existence. In short, since words fail to express the writer's meaning adequately he uses them in various senses, explaining (God's existence) sometimes as a whole and sometimes as (possessing) parts.” I then adduced several propositions regarding the inherent unity of essence, a principle which had at that time become ingrained in me, and called upon the Shaikh to corroborate my arguments, and both ¹²⁵ the emperor and the Shaikh were well pleased with my discourse. About this time Shaikh Isma‘īl, the half-brother of the Shaikh, near whom I lived in the quarter of the Kh'āja-yi-Jahān in Fatḥpūr, and with whom I was on terms of intimate companionship, took me, in obedience to Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh's wish, to the ‘Ibādatkhāna, and there introduced me to him, and related to him the story of my meeting with him eleven years before, which he had heard from me. Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh was much perturbed and said that he did not remember that any such thing had happened. The Shaikh, although he pretends to refrain from company, which is really self-advertisement, now lives in Āgra, in outward appearance, like his father, one of the holy men, while on the contrary he spends his time in self-indul­gence and idleness, clad in the raiment of men of rank, and retains his old habits, many strange utterances, calculated to deceive the vulgar, and delivered with apparent simplicity, being reported. I have not space to record them.

Mīr Abū'l-Ghai of Bukhārā* (may the mercy of God be upon him!) used to say, “Let him be what he may, with his devotee's raiment, his assemblies of those vowed to holy poverty, and his discourses on mysticism. We believe in him with our whole heart!”

In the year in which the Khān-i-Zamān was defeated* Shaikh Ẓīyā'u-'llāh accompanied the army to Ambeṭhī, and had an interview with his holiness Miyān Shaikh Niāmu-'d-dīn (may his tomb be sanctified!). When the Miyān was commenting on the blessed verse, “And therein shall they be given to drink of a cup of wine, mixed with the water of Zanjabīl, a fountain in paradise named Salsabīl,”* Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh, with a view of displaying his ability, interrupted the discourse, and said, “There is a discrepancy between this verse and another verse of the Qur'ān.” The Miyān was moved to anger and said, “Holy is God! The father dived in that (sea of doubt) and must now be feeling the utmost need of intercession, and the son here sets himself to prove discrepancies between the words of God (be He honoured and glorified!)”