SECTION THE FOURTH, OF THE FOLLOWERS OF THE VEDANTA (THE VEDANTIANS).—This sect belongs to the most learned and wise of this people. We shall give the substance of their creed. They say: The explanation regarding the only really existing Being (God) resembles a science from which a faint likeness of his grandeur may be perceived; this being and his qualities are pure of all imperfections and con­tradictions; he oversees all beings; he discovers all that is hidden; his existence comprehends all things; decay and deficiency have no access to the boundless area of his existence; he is the lord of life, the greatest of spirits endowed with pure qualities, and this holy Being, this sublime object, they call Brahma uttama,* “the most excellent Brahma,” that is, the supreme soul and the most exalted spirit; and the evidence of this meaning, that is, of his existence, is the created world; because a creation without a creator will not come forth from the veil of non-entity into the field of evidence, and the maker of this work is he, the Lord. This explanation is to be supported in the field of certainty by the wise arguments of sagacious people, and by the testimonies of the text of the Véda, that is, of the heavenly book. The truly existing Being (God) has exhibited this world and the heavens in the field of existence, but he has nothing like an odor of being, nor has he taken a color of reality; and this manifestation they call Máyá,* that is, “the magic of God;” because the universe is “his playful deceit,” and he is the bestower of the imitative existence, himself the unity of reality. With his pure substance, like an imita­tive actor, he passes every moment into another form, and having again left this, appears in another dress. It is he alone who, coming forth in the forms of Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahadeva, exhibits the true unity in a trinity of persons, and who, manifesting his being and unity in three persons, separate from each other, formed this universe. The connexion of the spirits with the holy Being (God), is like the connexion of the billows with the ocean, or that of sparks with fire; on that account, they call the soul and the spirits jívátmá.* The soul is uncompounded and distinct from the body and from the material senses; but by the power of self­ishness it fell into a captivity from which the soul strivesto be liberated.* The soul has three condi­tions or states: the first is the state of being awake, which they call jágaravast'ha,* and in this state the soul enjoys quietly the pleasures of nature and bodily delights, such as eating and drinking, and the like; and it suffers from the privation of these just-men­tioned enjoyments; that is, it suffers from hunger and thirst, and similar pains; the second state is that of sleep, called svapna avast'ha,* and in this state the soul is happy in the possession of what it wishes and desires, such as collecting in dreams gold and silver, and similar things; it is distressed by the want of them; the third state is known by the name of Su svapna avast'ha,* that is, “the state of good sleep,” and in this state there is neither gladness nor sadness from possession or privation of what is desired, but freedom from pleasure and pain. It is to be known that they hold sleep to bestow a pro­phetic sight of events, and the vision is called rúyá in Arabic: in this third state however, which they call sleep by excellence, no events are seen, but it is being plunged in a profound sleep, and this people do not take it simply for sleep, but they distinguish it as a sort of lethargy, which they call su svapna. They believe the souls to be imprisoned in these three states, and wandering about in a circle. The soul in these conditions, although united with a body, yet, by a number of meritorious deeds, and a virtuous conduct, attains to the station of knowing itself and God: it then breaks the net of illusion,* and it is the characteristic of saints whom they call Jnání;* that, whatever they see in the state of being awake, they reckon to be a vain illusion, as if pre­senting itself to men in a dream. The saint thinks even a man awake to be deceived by a dream; like one who, from inadvertency, takes a rope for a snake; but it is a rope, not a snake: he knows the world to be a delusion, which, from want of knowledge, is thought to be the universe, although, in truth, it has no reality. This state is called by them Tarbá avasťhá.*

When the saint becomes free from the ties and impediments of the world, and from the chains of its accidents, then he enters into the region of free­dom, which they call mukt.* This mukt, according to them, is divided into five parts: the first is, when the sanctified man, having attained the dignity of freedom, in the city of the subordinate divinities (angels), becomes one of them; as in this city are the residences of the deities, such as the city of Brahma, of Vishnu, of Mahadéva, and this part is called “the mukt of the pious.” The second part is, when the devotee, a neighbour and companion of the gods, is surrounded by an abundance of favor, and the society of the celestial beings; and this division of the mukt they call Svámi prémá.* The third part is, when the pious assumes the form of the inferior divinities without union with their per­sons, that is, whichever of the gods he chooses, it is his shape which he appropriates to himself, and this part they name Sára préma.* The fourth part of the mukt is, when the pious becomes united with one of the gods, like water with water, that is, when he coalesces with whichever of the gods he chooses, and this is entitled svayukti.* The fifth part is, when the soul of the pious, called jívátma, becomes one with the great spirit whom they call paramátmá,* and recognise as the only real being, in such a manner that there remains no room for a second to rise between, and this they distinguish by the name of Jnánam uttamam.*

This is the substance of the creed of the Védan­tian: whoever possesses this science is called Inání by the Hindus, and all the principal men among them are conversant with the doctrine of this sect. The sublime discourses and wise histories delivered by Vasishta for the instruction of Rama chandra, are entitled Vasíshta yog; and the speeches which fell from the tongue of Krishna, when he was bestowing advice upon Arjuna, who was one of the Pandus, go under the name of kathá. Sankara Acharya, who ranks highest among the later learned men of India, has written much about this doctrine. The dogmas of this class are as follow: the world and its inhabitants are appearances without reality, and God is but one necessary and self-existing being, whom they call Parama atma; they say, this appear­ance and diversity of form, this order and aspect of heavens, are like the vapor resembling the sea upon the surface of sandy plains, and like the vision of a dream; good and bad, pleasure and pain, adoration and worship of God, are but objects of imagination, and these various images are illusions;—the deepest pits of hell, the vaults of heaven, the return to earth after death, transmigration, and the retribution of actions, all that is but imagination, and variety of imagination.

QUERY Should one say, a principle of life acts in us; there is no doubt of it; consequently the one is learned, the other ignorant; the one is happy, the other distressed. How can that be mere imagina­tion, and appearance?

THE ANSWER they give to it is—If not in a dream, thou wouldst not see thyself a king issuing man­dates, a servant, submissive, imprisoned, free, a slave, a master, sick, healthy, distressed, merry, melancholy, and so on. How often in a dream didst thou not feel pleasure and happiness, or wast over­whelmed by fear, and terror, and anguish? there is no doubt but all this is mere illusion and empty appearance, although the dreamer holds it all to be real truth.

Rayi-Rup, who is reckoned among the learned Rajahs, asked the author of this book: “After having dreamt to have received any wound whatsoever upon my body, if, as soon as I rise from sleep, I do not find the least mark of it, I know that it was an illusion; but if in a dream I converse with a woman, at my waking, I may perhaps not be able to deny the visible effect of it: why should this happen in the second case?”

To this question the following answer was given: “What thou thinkest the state of being awake, this, in the opinion of the enlightened, is also dream­ing; and as it often happens that, thinking in a dream to be awake, I perceive whatever appears as if I were really awake, whilst I see it in a dream: in like manner, the usual state of being awake is held by the wise to be nothing else but a dream. Hast thou not heard what Kámyáb Samrádí has said in the Samrád námeh? A man had seven noble sons, each of whom felt the ambition to command in the six parts of the world. With such a desire, they addressed their devotion to God. One day they laid their head upon the pillow of repose, and each had a bright dream. It appeared to each, that he had left his body, and was born again in a king's house; after the death of the father, each placed the crown upon his head, and bore dominion from east to west; in the seven regions there was no king equal to him, and the reign of each lasted one hundred thousand years; at the time of his passing to the other world, he delivered the empire to his son, and, leaving the body, took his flight to heaven. When they awoke, the dinner which they had been preparing was not yet ready. Afterwards, each of them related what happened to him; each of them pre­tended to have possessed the seven regions during one hundred thousand years, and each named such and such a town as the capital of his empire. Although awake, they resolved then to go each to his kingdom, and to see that capital, whether true or not. They went first to the town which was the residence of the eldest brother; there they found his son king, and the father knew his palace; in this manner they visited the kingdoms of the other brothers, and saw their sons. Afterwards, the seven returned to their native-place, and said to each other: ‘Each of us was in his dream king of the seven regions, and had no other above himself; being awakened, we heard the same from the men of those towns which we have visited for ascertaining that we had possessed such rank and power in the world.’ Thus it is certain that we are even now in a dream, and that the world is nothing else but an illusive vision.”

This sect interpret the whole religion of the Hin­dus according to their own belief, and they state that, pursuant to the Védas, to confound during the worship all the subordinate divinities with the one whose existence is necessary, means nothing else but that, in truth, they all emanate from this one; further that it is but he who manifests himself in the form of any deity, and that no Serosh has an existence of his own, but that in Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahadéva, who appeared above, are evidenced the three attributes of God, namely, in Brahma, the creator; in Vishnu, the preserver; and in Mahadéo, the destroyer. Moreover they say, that these three attributes are the mind or intellect, which they call manas, and it is the action of the interior sense which they distinguish particularly by the name of manas.* Besides they entertain this belief about the interior sense, that, if the mind wishes, it forms the image of a town; it becomes then Brahma, who has as much as created it; as long as the mind wishes, it pre­serves its work, on which account it becomes Vishnu, who is its guardian; further, if it wishes, it throws it off, in which sense the mind becomes Mahadeo. Their belief is also, that religious austerity consists in the conviction of the pious, that the world is an appearance without reality, and that, what exists, is in truth God; and that, except him, every thing is but an illusion which comes from him, but in truth has no reality. In their opinion, whoever is desirous of this faith, and does not possess the required knowledge, may by self-application, or by the les­sons of a master, or by the instruction of a book, become a proficient in it. The conviction that the world does not exist, may also be acquired by pious exercise; and the perfect therein know, that by means of religious austerity one may acquire what he wishes to learn, and as long as he tends towards it, he has not yet known himself, as he is himself a choice part of the divine being. The pious man, who by dint of austerity renders himself perfect, they call a Yogí,* that is, one who by self-mortification attains his aim. The pious, who by mental application, by the instruction of a master, by the study of books, or by any effort not appertaining to religious exer­cises, raises himself to any perfection, him they name Rája-yogí, that is, one who attains sovereignty.

Among the Hindus are recommended as pious exercises, Mantra,* Homa,* and Dandavat.* Mantra signifies prayer; Homa is throwing clarified butter and like things into the fire, and reciting prayers, in order to render propitious a certain divinity; Dan­davat is, when one prostrates himself like a stick before the object of adoration, and touches the ground with the forehead. A person asked Bhar­tari,* who was one of those adepts whom they call Jnánis: “Dost thou recite mantras?” He replied: “I do.” That person asked again: “What man­tra?” He answered: “My breath, going out and in, is my mantra?” That man continued to ask: “Dost thou perform Hóm?” The answer was: “I do.” To the question, “And how?” the reply “followed: “By what I eat.” That person further inquired: “Dost thou practise the Dańdavat?” After affirmation, being asked “At what time?” he said, “When I sleep, stretched out to rest.” And this speech reminds me of this sentence:

“The sleep of the wise is preferable to the adoration of the ignorant.”

The Hindus call Déva árcháká* the worshipper of an idol, that is, one who is devoted to a divinity: which this people interpret to be performing what­ever rite a man himself chooses; because the deity is the intellectual soul; to render it obsequious, is to perform the act which it commands, that is, whenever it wills, to see with the eyes, to hear with the ears, to smell with the nose, and so on, in order to please one's self. According to their account of the revealed unity of God, all is HE. To say so is liable to censure; but it is permitted to assert: “all is I.” Should one not attain to this height of philosophy, he may choose the former thesis. The author of the Gulchén raz, “the rose-garden of mys­tery,” says:

“Egotism belongs to God alone,

For he is the mystery; think him also the hidden source of illusion.”

This people are masters of themselves in their speeches and actions; they know their origin and their end; and, occupied with themselves, they are imprisoned in the gaol of the world. Sankara Atcharya, who is distinguished among the Brahmans and the Sanyasis, professed this doctrine, and to whatever side he turned his face, contentment fol­lowed him. One day the adversaries and deniers of this creed resolved to drive an elephant against him; if he do not fly but remain firm, he is a saint; if otherwise, a bad man. When they had impelled the animal against him, Sankara fled; then they said to him: “Why didst thou fly before an illusion?” He replied: “There is no elephant, nor I; and there was no flight: you saw it in a dream.” All the great men among the Hindus are of this creed, and they agree that, in truth, there is no faith but this, without regard to Avátars and Rakshasas: all the enlightened Pandits have ranged themselves upon this side.

A Jnaníndra is called one of the Brahmans of Kach­mir;* this class is, in the language of Kachmir, entitled Guruvagurinah, and said to be the fathers of the Jnanían. One whose name was Chívarína, knew well how to keep in his breath; one day he informed the inhabitants of Náu chaher, which is upon the road of Kashmír, that on the morrow he intended to leave his human frame. The next day, the people assembled; Shívarina conversed with them until he arrived at the place where wood had been piled up, on the top of which he sat down with his legs crossed under him (which in the Persian language is called bahín neshisten, and the description of which I gave in the chapter about the imprisonment of breath practised by the Yezdaníán); he left then the human body, and when the people saw that the bird of life had taken his flight from the cage of the body, they set the wood on fire.

Another Jnani practised the subduing of the breath in his youth, and, mastering his soul by means of religious austerity, he attained to that point that, although possessed of little natural capacity, he undertook to read all the books of the Hindus, and understood all their sciences better than the other Pandits, as they all agreed. He now holds the first rank among the learned of his town, and acquired such an independent manner of thinking, that he feels neither pain from the loss, nor pleasure from the increase, of wealth, and holds alike friend, enemy, stranger, and relation; he is not depressed by the insult, nor elated by the praise of whomsoever; wherever he hears the name of a Durvísh, he calls on him, and, if he conceives a good opinion of him, he then frequents him and cultivates his friendship, and never lets him be afflicted and sorrowful; he converses about God's unity, and cares about nothing else nor busies himself about any other concern, and he visits no other persons but Durvishes. Sodar­shan is the name of his sister's son, who is also con­nected with him as his pupil; he left wife, son, and the house of this friend, and lives on the little which his disciples bring to him. When the Jnaní wishes to go out, the disciple puts his coat on him: because, inattentive to every thing exterior and to what may be grateful about him, he is never occu­pied with any thing else but with books.

It is known that the Hindus, that is, the legalists attached to the Smriti (holy scripture), light up a fire, and with it sacrifice a sheep, not without reciting spells and prayers; which they call performing Hóm. The Jnánindra says: “Our fire is piety, and in it I burn the wood of duality; instead of a sheep, I sacrifice egotism: this is my Hóm.” Thus he interprets the whole religion of the Hin­dus, and a great number of men became his dis­ciples. He has a nephew, called Gangu, ten years old, and younger than Sádarshan. One day, Gangu was crying from anger; the author of this book said to him: “Yesterday thou saidst: ‘The world and what it contains are but illusion;’ now, why ‘dost thou cry?” He replied: “If the world is nothing, then my crying has no reality; I am not in contradiction with myself.” So saying, he continued to cry.

The socíety of good men renders good.”

Jaganath, eight years old, is the son of a Jnánín­dra; he brought a puppy into a house where an idol was worshipped, put him there in the idol's place, and drew the mark of cast on his head. The boy was asked: “What art thou doing?” He answered: “The stone has no life; why should you not rather worship the puppy than this idol? Besides, each person worships what he finds agreeable. Because this worship is a play, I play with this dog.” And none of the people of the house raised a hand on account of the boy's liberty, but uttered blessings upon him.

In the year 1049 of the Hejira (1639 A. D.) the author of these pages visited in Kachmir a Jnáníndra, and was delighted with his society. He called him his atma, that is, his “intellectual soul.” The Jnáníndra was asked: “Who is thy disciple?” He answered: “It is he who, having arrived to the self-existent God, knows and sees himself to be nothing else but God.”

At the time when the writer of this book was walking with a Hindu pious man on the border of the lake of Kashmir, a Sanyási who had pretensions to independence, joined us. There, a meal was brought to us, and the Sanyási eat with that pious man. After this, he began to boast: “Hitherto I have not eat any flesh: it is but now that I have tasted some.” The Jnání offered a cup of wine to him, who drank it for the sake of discarding care. He then reassumed the theme of self-praise. The pious philosopher had some bread of the bazar, which according to the Hindu faith is still more prohibited than wine, brought upon the table-cloth. The Sanyási broke a bit of the bread, eat it, and again praised himself without measure: “Now,” said he, “am I free of all bonds.” The wise smiled, and said: “Nothing remains but to eat cow-flesh.” The Sanyási, as soon as he heard this, left the company.

Of the distinguished disciples of the Jnáníndrás, whom the author of this work saw, are: Shankar bhat, Kanésh bhat, Sudarshan Kal, Adab bhat, Máhatáp­indra , and Avat, known under the name of Kopál Kúl. A goldsmith asked Shankar bhat, one of the disciples just mentioned: “Why do the Jnáníndras, with all their pretensions to independence, still worship idols?” Shankar said: “Why dost thou work in gold?” The goldsmith replied: “This is my profession for gaining my livelihood.” The answer to this was: “And worship too is a trade and a means to procure food.”

Mulla Shídáyi, a Hindu, who has a name amongst the poets, and possessed a very impressive eloquence, went one day with the author of this book to the house of a Jnáníndra, and conversed with him; he saw his disciples, and having observed the man­ners of the people of the house, he was struck with astonishment, and said: “My whole life passed in devotedness to pious persons; but my eyes never beheld such independence, and my ears never heard any thing comparable to the speeches of those emancipated men.”

Hara Ráma púrí was a Sanyási, and one of the Jnánís possessing the perfection of independence. When he came to Kashmír, being vexed by the length of his hair, which was like ropes, he cut it off, on the bank of a river near a house called Bhat jatáyi. Sri Kant Bhat, a Pandit and Hindu judge, saw it and said: “Whenever thou cuttest off thy hair, thou shouldst do it in a tirth, that is, in ‘a house of worship.’” Hara answered: “There is a place in the most holy of mansions, where the heart gets delighted, and on the spot where the dead are burnt, all obscure points are termi­nated.” In the year 1051 of the Hejira (1641 A. D.) he went to Kichtovar,* and settled in a plain called chawgan, where they played at ball, practised equitation, and burnt the dead. Maha Singh, the son of Baháder Singh, Rája of Kishtovár, became his disciple, and by devotion he rendered himself free of the bonds of exterior things; now he likes the society of the pious; he is young and conversant with poetry. In the year 1052 of the Hejira (1642 A. D.) a war broke out in Kishtovar, between the Rája and the rebels of this country. When they made resound the drum of battle, a general carnage began on both sides of the combatants; Hara Rámapúrí, having got upon the top of an elevated ground, was occupied with the sight of it, and at the uproar of the warriors and the sound of pipes, and clarions, and kettle-drums, he began to dance, and in the midst of his transport his foot stumbled; he fell head­long from the mountain, and in rolling down received from a great stone a head-wound, of which he died. Mirza Rafíah says:

“When the darkness of my heart became enlightened by the knowledge of wisdom,

Whatever speeches were proffered as her arguments,

They bore upon some errors of my desires;

Thus the whole road was rendered winding from my stumblings.”

Sathrah and Jadú were two fakírs. Sathrah drew in Nagarikot* the mark of the cast on his forehead, and threw the zunar on his neck; he ate however roasted cow-flesh, with bread of the bazar, and indulged himself in pleasure-walks. Some Hindus arrested him by force, and brought him before the judge. The judge said to him: “If thou art a Hindu, it becomes thee not to eat cow-flesh and bread of the bazar; and, if thou art a Muselman, wherefore the mark of the cast and the zunar?” The answer was: “The mark of the cast is of safran and sandal-wood; the zunar is a woven thread; the cow-flesh comes from grass and barley; bread from corn, and the oven from earth and water: if thou considerest things according to truth, thou wilt find that all is composed of four elements, which are neither Muselmans nor Hindus; as to the rest, let thy commands be conformable to law.” The judge set him at liberty. Jadú was one of his disciples, and went to Balkh, the dome of Islam. He appeared in the mosque with the mark of the Hindu cast, and with the zúnar, and, arrested, was brought before the judge, who saluted him as a Muselman. Jadú replied: “If thou givest me a wife and settlest me in a house, I will be a Muselman.” The judge gave him a beautiful widow for a wife, and Jadú, having become a Muselman, went into her house. After the lapse of a few days, he said to the woman: “Give me the daughter whom thou hast had with thy late hus­band, in order that I may sell her, and spend the price that I receive for her for my subsistence. When we shall have another child, I will dispose of it in the same manner, by selling; for this is my profession, and except this I know no trade.” The woman dismissed him. Jadú, being at liberty, went to Kabul;* he put a feather on his head, as mes­sengers used to do, fastened a bell round his waist, and, with a loose belt on his shoulder and a striped coat, he appeared in the bazar. The messengers arrested him, and said: “Why hast thou taken our dress?” Jadú answered: “The crown and feather are upon the head of the nightingale and of other birds, and the bell hangs upon the neck of the sheep and of the cow; reck on me too one of them.” The messengers began to handle him roughly; Jadú asked: “What is your desire?” They said: “Thou art now to exercise with us the nimble pace of a courier.” Jadú did not refuse: he ran with them, and gained so much over them that at the morning dawn not one of the couriers remained near him. During seven days and nights he neither ate nor drank any thing, practising running. Jadú acquired the habit of religious austerity; in the year 1052 of the Hejira (1642 A. D.), having con­voked his friends in Jelálabad,* between Peshaver* and Kabul, he took leave from them and resigned his life.

Pertábmal Chadah (Chadah is a tribe of Ksha­triyas) is a Jnání, that is a pious man; his native country is Síál kut; he attained to perfection in the exercise of virtue; he is not confined to any faith or religion; but knows that every religion is a road leading towards God; he sees in every face a friend revealed. One day he joined, on account of an affair, Davárah, a man who was one of the chiefs appointed by the government of Hargovínd, a suc­cessor of Nanak;* he became his disciple, and declared himself as his adherent. Davárah washed his feet, and the water thereof was drank by all the present followers of the faith, which they did to every body whom they had gained over to their reli­gion. At last, a dispute arose between Pertábmal and Davárah; the latter said to the other: “But yes­terday I washed thy feet (that is, made thee my disciple, and to-day thou makest war upon me?” Pertábmal answered: “Oh weak-minded man! the Jats always wash my feet as thou hast done: my own hand never touches my feet.” [The Jats are a low class of the Hindus.]

It is an established custom among the followers of Nának to present, when they pursue a desire, a few direms to the chief of their master, or to their master, and solicit his favor. Pertábmal offered some dírems to Kábelí, who was a religious chief appointed by Harigovind, and then in Kabul; he said with his hands joined: “I wish to convoke for prayer, according to their custom, all the fol­lowers of Nának; let that be granted.” Kabeli, before giving his agreement, asked: “Thou wishest perhaps to see Haragovind?” Pertábmal said: “I wish something more precious.” Kabeli asked: “What is this?” The answer was: “I wish the arrival of all the buffoons, dancers, and musi­cians from Péshawar to Kabul, that we may see their actions, arts, and tricks.”

In the house of Pertábmal was an idol which the Hindus worship. A mouse having made a hole in his furniture, he put the whole idol, instead of a lump of earth, into the mouse-hole, in order to shut the passage. The Hindus said: “What art thou about?” He answered: “The deity who cannot obstruct the road of a mouse, and settle any thing with a mouse, how will he protect me, and pre­serve me from the tyranny of the Muselmans?” In like manner Pertábmal had in his house a Siva­lingam, which is a post of stone which the Hindus venerate: having carried this lingam out of his house, like a post, he tied a dog to it.

A Muselman said to him: “Two persons only of all unbelievers, namely, Nushirvan and Hatam, will go to heaven.” Pertábmal replied: “According to your faith, two persons only of the unbelievers will go to heaven; but our belief is that not one of the Muselmans will go to heaven.”

Azadah (this was his adopted title) is a Brahman. One day he ate at table with some Muselmans and drank wine. They said to him: “Thou art a Hindu, and thou takest thy meal in common with Muselmans? Your people never eat but with persons of their religion.” Azádah replied: “I did not suppose that you were Muselmans; here­after I will at eating and drinking keep myself separate from you.” Another day he found him­self again drinking wine in company with them, and did not turn his head from the meal; during the repast they said to Azádah: “Yesterday we made ourselves known to thee as Muselmans.” He answered: “I knew that you were joking with me. God forbid that you should be Muselmans.”

Binaváli is the son of Híráman, a Káyastha.* The Káyasthas are a tribe of the fourth cast which Brahma has created; among the illustrious poets his name was Walí;* from his childhood he liked very much the society of durvishes; and in his tender age he was with the religious chief, named Ularváh, a great dur­vish, whose continual exclamation was: “God, thou art present, thou art one, God, I attest this.” In the year of the Hejirah 1045 (A.D.1634) he associated with the durvishes of India, and enjoyed the fruit of it; he came to Kashmir in the service of Mulla Shah Budakhshí, and acquired the desired knowledge. The Sufí is by no necessity bound to a creed; no faith nor religion fetters his choice; he befriends the idol and the temple of the idol, and is no stranger to the mosque; by the power of ecstacy, not by any exter­nal knowledge, he utters loud sublime speeches. In the year 1050 of the Hejira (1640 A.D.) the doors of friendship opened between him and the author of of this work; from the refulgencies of his mind are the following lines:

“We are not ourselves that what we are; we are that what thou art;

Thou art without a mark; we are thy mark.

These marks are the marks of thy being;

They are the manifestations and the splendor of thy qualities,

Thou art pure of our care, and of our imagination;

O thou, who art manifest in this our garment;

Manifestations of thee are all things.

Thou art independent of the relation of ‘thou and we,’ and thyself art ‘thou and we.’

“Thy being comes forth in thy qualities,

Thy nature is the spring of thy being, O Lord!

We are all nothing; whatever is, is thou!

O thou! who art free of notion, imagination, and duality,

We are all billows in the ocean of thy being;

We are a small compass of the manifestations of thy nature.”

Azadah and Binaválí appear in the dress of Hin­dus, and profess the belief of the Jnánís, to which they are reckoned to belong.

Mehir chand is a native of the Panjab, and belongs to the class of the goldsmiths of Guzerat; he comes from the school of the disciples of Akamnath, whose opinions he adopted. Akamnath is a Yógí, “a saint,” and possessed of inspiration; according to the belief of his followers, two thousand years of his life have elapsed.

“Like the azure heavens, a sage never dies;

The intellectual principle is free from storms, and from all that is perishable.”

One day Akamnath came before the great emperor Jehangír, who is in heaven; the celebrated monarch asked him: “What is thy name?” The sage answered Sarvat anga, that is, “All the beings are my members.” In the assembly, before the sovereign, a book was read; the king, having taken the book from the reader, gave it into the hand of Akamnath, saying: “This is thy saying, read it;” Akamnath returned the book to the reader, bidding him to read on; but when this man began, the king addressed Akamnath: “To thee have I said, read.” His answer was: “I have at the beginning declared, that all things in the world are my mem­bers; I am therefore reading by the tongue of that man.” Vásúl Khaznúyi says:

“So free is my spirit that the creation is my body,

And that fire, and air, and earth, are my dwelling.

This celestial sphere, with all its globes,

Revolves only because it is my wish.”

Soon after a sparrow passed, flying from the water. Akamnath declared before the king: “If with this body, which is near thy majesty, I should attempt to go upon the water, I could but sink, but under the form of a bird I passed.” The great Mouláná Jamí says:

“The world, with all spirits and bodies,

Is a certain person whose name is ‘World.’”

They say, that Akamnath went to the Kâbah (of Mecca) and saw the house; he asked somebody: “Where is the master of the house?” That per­son remained astonished. They opened the door of the house of God; Akamnath repeated the ques­tion without receiving an answer from them; he then called out: “There is no master of the house in this edifice: this place is unsafe.” Finally, he inquired from the people, why the images which had been in this house, have been thrown out; one answered: “Because an idol is the work of the hand of a man; and because the forms of men, who are created, ought not to be worshipped.” Akamnath observed: “This house, too, is the work of men, and any form therein is that of a man, and the work of men who are created; should it be worshipped?” having heard this speech, they imprisoned him; but the next morning they found no prisoner: Akamnath was gone. At last, those who returned from the pilgrimage saw him in Hindostan.

“Perhaps shall we find him there in an idol-temple,

That friend whom we missed in a monastery.”