Praise be to God that this royal treasure of record, this register of knowledge, the syllabus of the volume of wisdom, the summary of administrative writings, the tablet of instruction in the school of learning, the exemplar of ceremonial among men of understanding, the code of polity of the imperial court, this patent of morality in the audience-hall of justice and mercy, has been brought to completion. Much labour had to be endured and many difficulties overcome before the inception of this antidote for the world's constitution, this prophylactic for those envenomed by sensuality and suffering could be successfully undertaken. Many a dark night passed into morning and many a long day grew to eve, ere this mine of the diadem of eternal happiness, this pearl of the throne of everlasting sovereignty could be publicly displayed. What warring of the capacity with the natural constitution took place, how many a struggle between myself and my heart drove me to distraction ere the count of this investigation fleeting as the world, the result of this search deluding as the waters of a mirage, could be set down! Prayers were poured forth before the Almighty throne, supplications were offered up on the threshold of divine light, in order that this amulet on the arm of the wise, this magic spell of those who love knowledge, written in my heart's blood, might have the spirit of life breathed into its lettered form.
What toil endured through love that work so planned,
Watered by tears and blood, should rooted stand!
Alas! Alas! that one nurtured by the divine bounty and long suffused by the radiance of truth, should defile his tongue with murmurs of toil and labour, and record his harrowing of soul and his travail on the tablet of illustration! It is through the wondrous workings of His Majesty's favour and the spell of his enduring prerogative that this dissertation has been set forth and a great work brought to its conclusion. That cynosure of divine unity to the virtuous, by the efficacy of a direct intention and the probity of unswerving rectitude appointed a treasurer to the stores of his wisdom and sagacity, and gave him access to the recesses of his sanctuary. That gem of singlemindedness, in honour of the Supreme Being and in thanksgiving for ever increasing bounties, brought forth a work of knowledge by a master-spirit of wisdom for the profit of inquirers, and a royal mandate from the tabernacle of sanctity for the seekers of happiness. By a sublime favour he endowed this fortunate and loyal nature with the capacity of reading and understanding it, and by his all-embracing condescension permitted me to reproduce somewhat thereof as came within my limited intelligence and to be honoured with the stewardship of the divine bounty. Far and near, friend and stranger, participate therein, and all classes of mankind illumine their minds with the splendour of truth. Thanks be to God that in these noble maxims of conduct, the visible world finds its remedy, and the things of the invisible are by them harmoniously regulated!
The light that o'er seven spheres celestial plays,
Wins all its radiance from imperial rays.
The blind need now no more a staff to take,
While those that see find luminous their ways.
The garden of prosperity blooms unto good-will and for joy has come a day of festival. The eye opens in cheerfulness and the night of sorrow has passed. Many a truth in the orders of nature and grace, and many incidents of binding and loosing have been set down in despite of fraudful concealers of the truth, and an illumination of wisdom is displayed for the guidance of the sightless and faint of heart and for the purblind that lose their way. Through a lofty destiny for which sincere loyalty is another name, a new canopy of wisdom has been erected, and the duty of thanksgiving which is the final cause, has reached its accomplishment.
In honour of my liege, the king,
With all true loyalty I bring
A cypress set in garden fair,
Wherein shall trysting all repair,
And with full draughts of wine elate,
Its happy growth commemorate.
Notwithstanding the coming and going of so many leaders of the caravans of knowledge and the gathering together of treatises from the schools of learning, to-day only can the purity of the jewel of wisdom be assayed and its weight tested by another scale—now only is sovereign intellect arrayed on the throne of empire and its sway enforced by a later ordinance. Now must the field of gift and offering be made wide and the festal melodies and pæans of success resound, but not as Firdausi, who in a grovelling spirit, fell into the aberration of greed and made the curtain of his honour an object for the haggling of traffic. He was a seller of words and knew not their value. Thinking them interchangeable with a few pieces of metal, like shameless hucksters of the market, he lost his credit in stickling for price. He sought to make rateable worth incalculable, and the measurable measureless. This servitor at the table of multitudinous royal bounties records in this work his gratitude for transcendent favours, and signalizes the wondrous dispensations of the world-adorning Creator of the universe.
Had naught but gold this volume from me wrung,
Life would have ended ere a pearl were strung;
'Twas love that planned the task, for through such strain
Could only love my feeble voice sustain.
Firdausi took thirty years of labour to secure eternal execration, while I have borne with seven years of toil for the sake of everlasting glory. He fused his worth into the cast of verse which is a matrix of determinate shape, and I have strung into writing, gems of the purest water through the infinite expanse of prose.
My pen its point deep in my heart's blood dyes
To write such prose as far all verse outvies;
For prose in its degree doth verse excel,
As unbored pearls the rarest price compel.
What connection is there between the servitor of the Lord and the worshipper of gold? between thanksgiving and lamentation? Self interest let fall a veil before his clear vision in that he sought largesse in the laboratory of genius from the great ones of the earth. Had no defect obscured his sight in his dealings with others, he would not have entered so devious a path nor spoken a line for lucre, and would have secured the possession of the jewel of magnanimity.
When thought of self intrudes doth genius flee,
And the heart blinds the eyes that may not see.
The beam in his own vision what though plain,
The critic quick to cavil seeks in vain;
Absorbed in greed the faults of others hears,
But from his own withholds unwilling ears.
But apart from this consideration that in the markets of wisdom, works that delight the heart cannot be purchased by the gold and silver of the world,1 and that such gems of price are not to be weighed against coin, by his grace of diction and the charm of his verse he strove to immortalize his name, and has left behind him a noble and gracious scion in the full vigour of youth that will survive to ages. To the rich and prosperous it adds another dignity: the wise that love truth it favours with another aid. The simple-minded that seek after happiness are familiarized with the gains and losses of life, and it pours out for the many who resent the disappointments of toil, the healing balm of resignation. To the faint of heart it lends courage: to those who have the craft of the fox it gives the boldness of the lion and the fury of the alligator. Upon the intolerant and narrow-minded it bestows cheerfulness and large views, and stimulates the magnanimous and raises them to the pinnacle of greatness.
Although to outward appearance he was but rendering a service to the great ones of the earth, he was implicitly bearing the jewels of his wisdom to the market of appreciation. Had he not been under the influence of cupidity, nor exposed his penetrating genius to the spoil of misplaced desire, he could never have been sufficiently grateful for the divine favour in the opportunity of winning the applause and admiration of mankind. Nay, had he possessed any sense of justice and any knowledge of the world, besides this rare product of intellect, he would have carried some substantial offering to the throne of majesty, in order that the royal approval might be the means of displaying the quality of his jewel, and that he might bequeath as a gift of price, a memorial to his successors in the pursuit of intellectual fame.
Praise be to God! that by the divine grace and providential assistance, I have not set my heart upon the composition of this work with a view to approbation or to listen to my own praises, into which pitfall of the imagination so many have sunk, nor suffered my natural constitution to be trodden under foot by ambition, not even with regard1 to the large field of its acquired characteristics, far less its innate qualities in any abundance.
He who is deficient in a lofty spirit and noble sentiments is ensnared by a desire of worldly goods. But even the stranger knows that the odour of misrepresentation has not entered my nostrils, and the alien recognises in me a critical judge. What analogy is there between the painted silks of China and the raw yarn of a hair-rope maker? between a keen blade of Egypt and a piece of coarse iron? How can the priceless gem of truth descend to the level of worldly potsherds? Why exchange eternal bliss for the silvered inanities that soon decay? And especially at this time when by the wondrous workings of destiny and a smiling fortune, priceless jewels are but as gravel before the palace of auspiciousness, and my loyal spirit, illumined by the rays of wisdom, has found rest on the heights of joy. Were I even destitute of the goods that pass from hand to hand in the market-square of the material world, and fortune through malice or fickleness, sent not wealth to serve me, I would never entertain such a feeling nor approve in my own person such imprudence in affairs. On the contrary, my first thought is the praise of God, in that the deeds of majesty have been illustrated by commendable description. The second consideration of the mind with a view to human needs is that the eminent men of future time and the learned of the present, may bring up gems of purest ray from this fathomless sea to beautify the mansions of their deeds. Had I possessed a lofty spirit, I should not have descended from the summit of the heights of unity to the level of polytheism, but what is to be done?1 I quote the words used by the leader of the enlightened minds of the past, the spiritual doctor (Mauláná Rúmí)—
Since I am linked with those who see awry,
Idolater! I, too, must preach idolatry.
Though every one cannot comprehend the object of this fast in the morning of existence and this mirage in the noon of life, I think that all should perceive and bear in mind that the exertions of the wise and the good should be restricted to two objects, and the supreme purpose of pursuit in those of lofty penetration and wakeful destiny should not exceed these. The first is to secure the benediction of God and to lay the foundations of a stately fabric in the pleasant meads of His holy pleasure, and this is the means to eternal life and the ornature of enduring bliss. Those who choose that country for their abode go not down unto death, and the sound of body therein behold not the face of sickness. Its vigorous dwellers know not of debility, nor those that thrive there, of decay. Wealth does not decline in poverty, and loss of vision enters not therein. This is to be obtained only by a sincere intention and the possession of the four excellent qualities together with the avoidance of the eight vicious characteristics of which books of wisdom have fully treated. The second is a good repute in this fleeting world, which signifies an enduring existence and a second life. Although this also is accomplished through the same source of enlightenment by which a virtuous disposition is formed, yet it is chiefly secured by a smooth tongue and an open hand, and sincerity of intention and rectitude of mind are not imperative. Blest is he who by the divine auspices links the first with the second, and prospers in the temporal as well as in the spiritual world. The means adopted by the seekers of truth to participate in social enjoyments and yet to win peace with some comfort to their consciences, are these, that with strenuous endeavour and by the favour of fortune, they separate good resolutions and virtuous conduct from the disorders of self-regard and the labyrinth of hypocrisy, and submitting their minds to the dictates of sovereign reason and the divine pleasure, live apart from the blame and praise of mankind; and the profit which these simple dealers obtain from their inestimable lives and the advantage secured by their exertions, are a perpetual remembrance and an illustrious name.
The leaders in the four quarters of the visible and invisible worlds, and the deep thinkers that betake themselves both to occupation and retirement, who through their comprehensive views and wide survey of the field of knowledge penetrate the mysteries of these two sublime principles, sustain by the grace of God the weight of the two worlds on the shoulders of their capacity, and in the strength of the Almighty arm move lightly under the burden. The harmonious operation of these two opposite interests, one alone of which is rarely attainable under the most capable and statesmanlike administrators even under the sanction of penal law, is by them so successfully carried out under the guidance of celestial favour that the primordial intelligence of nature itself stands amazed and the wonder-working heavens are confounded. By them, moreover, the sources of advantage and detriment, both temporal and spiritual, are commanded, and these antagonistic dual elements simultaneously co-operate in the establishment of festal conviviality of intercourse. And for exemplar of such a one, lo! from the brow of this prosperous reign that irradiates the face of the State, what splendour is reflected and as a glory shines upon the raiser of its auspicious banner in this our happy age! For to-day the skies revolve at his will and the planets in their courses move by his sublimity.
Akbar, the king, illumines India's night,
And is as a lamp in the court of the House of Timour.
The heart exults at his mention and the tongue vaunts his praise. May the Almighty vouchsafe long life to this incomparable wonder of the kingdom of wisdom, and eternal happiness to his subjects. This sovereign of the orders of nature and grace, by the light of his God-given intelligence and the night-beacon of his powerful will has so organized the measureless limits of these two dominions and moves through them with such prudence and sagacity, that aspiring discerners of each form of progress look to no other than him, and each and all consider as their own this pearl of wisdom that enlightens the world. Since the time that eloquence and knowledge of affairs have existed and the highway of literary composition been frequented, so exquisite and exact a co-operation of two antagonistic principles in a single hallowed person has never been recorded—a person who is the meeting of the oceans of church and state, the fountainhead of temporal and spiritual order—who prepares the litters of travel while yet abiding in his native land1 —a lamp for those who gather in privacy, a solver of trammels to those who are in bonds, a balm for the open wounds of the broken-hearted. Manifold worldly cares raise no dust of defect in his heart that loves retirement, and perpetual prayer and a concentrated mind suffer no breeze of pre-occupation to play upon the necessary duties of his station. Thus he has outward obligation with liberty of spirit.
Lo! from his brow behold the pure of sight
God's love and knowledge beam with radiant light.
A crowned monarch—a throne's rightful heir—
Lord of the world—the kingdom's founder there!
It is imperative upon the ambition of all masters of eloquence to decorate the ears and throat of the age with a description of the virtues of such a choice specimen of the court of existence and to adorn with its beauty the bosom and skirt of Time. A rare treasure will thus be prepared for future travellers in the caravans of being, and seekers from afar will come into the possession of knowledge. Although the spheres themselves in their courses by gesture and speech, tell thereof and transmit it to succeeding generations, yet by the workings of destiny accidents befal and the thread of continuity is often severed. When, however, works are written to record these wondrous deeds and they are inscribed upon the tablets of time, the hand of vicissitude less frequently affects them and they endure to distant ages. A fabric that is laid upon virtue, the summit of the porches thereof reaches to the pinnacles of the seventh heaven, and a foundation whereon fortune builds is not sapped by revolving cycles.
Behold the recompense of noble toil
That guards the Cæsars' halls from Time's despoil!
It is evident that of mighty monarchs of old there is no memorial except in the works of the historians of their age, and no trace of them but in the chronicles of eloquent and judicious annalists, yet the ravages of time obliterate them not. Of the splendour of the House of Buwayh no record exists save in the labours of the pens of Ṣábí1 and Muhallabí, and the noble pages of Rúdakí, U'nṣari and U'tbí alone tell of the glories of the kings of Ghazní.
Maḥmúd hath many a palace raised on high,
That with the moon might well dispute the sky:
Yet of all these no stone doth now remain,
While Time doth roll o'er U'nṣarí in vain.
Whosoever comprehends this talisman of prudence, this spell of enlightened research, and appreciates these characters of thought and this lawful sorcery, will perceive this much, that my intention is to apprize far and near of these two attributes of high sovereignty and to lay the stable foundations of an enduring dominion. By this means the writer will secure a determinate sustenance from these divine treasures and a large provision from the table of manifold graces.
This lasting work I consecrate to Fame,
And to all time commemorate his name;
Above its page its syllables enrolled
Shall turn the pen that writes them into gold.
But if through the strange effects of self-interest such fact is unperceived and this pious intention is hidden from his view, at least this measure of knowledge will be secured and the collyrium of vision in this sufficiency will be prepared, that the design of the mind that employs the pen and the object of this benevolent purpose is the happiness of the people at large and the prosperity of the commonwealth. The primary purpose of these annals of wisdom is the distinguishing of right from wrong, for the feet of many have been worn in the search of this recognition and have effected nothing; and secondly, to appreciate the results of virtuous and vicious conduct, of which this work is full. From the one he will learn how to garnish and sweep his house, from the other, to order the ways of his life. When he meets with prosperity and joy, finding no trace of those that have passed away, he will not admit the inroads of presumption; and if sorrow oppress him when among such as have gone before, no exemplars thereof remain, he will not surrender himself to its sway, but among the accidents of life, seated upon the prayer-carpet of enlightenment, he will be assiduous in praise and supplication before the Supreme Giver, and from the impotence and helplessness of the strong that are no more, he will perfectly comprehend the power of the Omnipotent hand. Dumb as I am and dejected of heart, what are these vain imaginings and this apparatus of chronicle and pen-craft! What connection is there between enemies of the flesh who love retirement, and the showy and affected scribblers of the world? And what analogy between those who abate the price of their own wares and the displayers of adulterated goods?
My thoughts do modestly my works decry1
While Gebirs, Moslems hawking run, “who'll buy?”
How shall I write of the strange ways of fortune and the delusive workings of destiny? In the beginnings of knowledge, I was overwhelmed with sorrow at the thought of existence, and at sacred places and auspicious times I prayed for release from the flesh. But, unawares, my spirit drew me by degrees to the school of research, and in confusion of heart which leads men astray, I sought the world. The ordinary course of learning was opened before me, and my mind became stored with ample measure of knowledge which raised in me an extraordinary arrogance. Under the guidance of a happy fortune, from a perusal of the works of the ancients, my mind was convinced that men must necessarily be comprised under three classes. The first is characterized by evil disposition and conduct, and this is evidenced in the traducing of one's neighbour and disclosing his faults. The second by good intentions and virtuous purposes; and the possessor of these they describe as half a man. From amiableness in his judgments and a large tolerance of views, he speaks charitably of all men. The third by a lofty spirit and eminent virtue; and these reveal the perfect man. The master of these qualities from transcendent elevation of mind, regards not mankind at all, and, therefore, much less virtue and vice in the abstract. Objective ideas find no entrance into his mind. His contemplation ever traverses the field of his own heart, and discovering his own defects, he labours to remedy them, and finally he adorns the sanctuary of his soul with the true principles of virtue in the hope of attaining by their means to the goal of deliverance in the fruition of eternal bliss.1 When I read these seductive and winning numbers on the dice-tables of wisdom,2 I woke somewhat from my slumber and began to inquire. Withdrawing from worldly concerns, I fell to a critical introspection and began to transcribe the roll of my sins. When I had traversed a portion of this terrible road, veils in fold on fold were suspended before my vision. It seemed as though I could not advance a step, and save a few venial errors which I had committed in my youth, I believed myself innocent. As the very delusion of this mocking fancy awoke me to consciousness, I was not undone by my spiritual enemies. I was compelled to turn back and alighted at the first station of abstraction from being, and made the transcription of the failings of my fellow creatures a mirrored reflection of my own. I thus became aware of many reprehensible qualities. In this ghostly and spiritual warring and distress of mind and body, leaving the recess of seclusion, I came to the court of His Majesty and the star of my fortune rose on the horizon of desire. By his great condescension His Majesty resolved my doubts, and I surmounted the heights of the visible and invisible worlds. I was honoured with the guardianship of the treasure of truth and entrusted with the keys of familiar intercourse, as has been briefly adverted to at the close of the first and second books. My heart emptied itself forth, and a treatise on morals was composed. A new life arose in the framework of language. For a long period the provision of bodily sustenance, the furnishing of which is approved in the truth-desiring eyes of sovereign reason, made my mind uneasy. What I had read in ancient works, occasioned only further bewilderment. One morning I craved for a scintillation from the court of the lord of light, and sought the exhibition of the talisman that resolved all difficulties. And as fortune befriended me and my heart was attentive, a refulgence from the luminary of grace shed its rays and the wondrous enigma was solved, and it was made clear that daily provision was under the pledge of royal justice and the acceptance of duty by grateful servants, as I have to some extent notified at the beginning of the last book.1 Most strange of all, however much from time to time the desire for seclusion which was innate in me renewed its impulse, the thought of increased worldly advancement likewise gained strength. With this provision secured of appropriate sustenance and due supply of bodily vigour2 on which the success of every undertaking depends, I withdrew from various other pre-occupations and turned my attention strenuously to military matters,3 and like those exclusively occupied in business, whom more solemn considerations do not affect, severing not the night from day, I sat at the gate of expectation. Since in this profession centres the interest of life and it adorns the acquisition of perfect and accurate judgment, in uniting the coruscation of political ability with the glitter of the sword, my whole ambition was to perform some service and to dare some signal deed in honour of this chosen profession, which would astonish even experienced statesmen and amaze the perusers of the history of the ancients, in order that the duties I had undertaken might be adequately fulfilled. This desire every moment increased, but the inopportuneness of the season suffered me not to speak. I had come from a religious house and a college to the royal court. Those who regard outward circumstances only might impute designs to me that had never crossed my mind, and I judged from appearances that if this secret intention got wind, they would blame me and loosen the tongue of reproach. But since the luminous mind of majesty is a mirror of verities and a world-displaying cup,1 without representation on my part or communication, the king vouchsafed to favour and honour with a commission my obscure personality that was unassisted by patronage, and raised me to an exalted rank and to the degree of a very distinguished command.2 For some days among the learned at their meetings considerable jealousy was excited, and the courtiers had for a long time banded together in envy against me. It was a strange co-incidence that I should be about the arsenal in search of a sword, while fate would force a pen into a master hand. I was examining the burnish of the lance-head while destiny was sharpening the point of the reed in order that the ordinances of the sovereign might be reverently proclaimed in the publication of these important records. I was a prey to conflicting emotions. Since I had not the capacity for this office, and my mind had no inclination to this kind of historiography, I was on the point of declaring my incompetence and standing aside, withdrawing from so onerous a task. But as I was impressed with His Majesty's knowledge of things that are hidden and with the obligation of responding to his favours by some signal service, I was unable to decline his command. The thought then occurred to me that His Majesty had in view my own application and industry as well as the literary capacity of my brethren,3 so that the materials which I might with indefatigable assiduity collect together, that accomplished and eloquent writer4 might harmoniously set in order and thus bring to completion this stupendous task. In a little while under the strenuous support of a will of miraculous efficacy, I opened my eyes to an interior illumination, and reflected that the royal command was a magic inspiration to literary effort and a talisman for the illumining of wisdom. With a sincere mind and a lofty determination this complex of sorrow and joy set his face to the duty. My chief reliance was in this, that by the grace of the divine favour, having diligently collected the necessary facts and given material embodiment to their spiritualized form, the eulogist of the court of the Caliphate, the erudite scholar of the Imperial House, the first writer of his age, the laureate among accomplished poets, Shaykh Abu'l Fayz-i-Fayzí my elder brother and superior, would graciously supervise it, and under the correction of that master of style, a fresh texture would be hand-woven into a fabric of beauty.
Scarce half of the first book had been written, when destiny worked its spell, and that free spirit in the fulness of its knowledge, took its last journey and afflicted my heart with an exceeding grief. When, by the talisman of the royal sympathies, I was recalled from the desire of aimless wandering to the city of service, manifold kindnesses were as a balm to the open wound of my soul, and I applied myself zealously to my great task. A light dawned on me as to the object of the royal command and the aim of its lofty view. I brought my mind to that consideration and with a prayer to the Almighty, I set out on the road. On the one hand lay the painful feeling of incompetency and a heart overwhelmed with affliction and stress of occupation which no material successes however numerous could remedy, and the ulcers of which no profusion of outward gratifications could salve,—on the other was the ebb and flow of the sea of my heart wherein human efforts were of no avail, nor could the door of its secret retirement be closed and the busy world kept out! How can I describe the violent conflict of these two unusual states of mind, or with what capability express the intercurrency of this strange dual operation. The first conjured up in the clear recesses of my mind, a fanciful play of wave and leap of fountain with swirl of rain and fall of dew; it wove a thousand fictions and suggested frequent supernatural interventions and seemed to assure him who chose it, of the attainment of the truth and the honour of presidency in the state-council of wisdom. From the second, a vision of flinty stones, of strewn fragments of brick and as of clod-heaps and scatterings of blackened soil appearing from the same source of discernment, arose with a warning aspect. Coarseness of speech, scurrility, vauntings and vain babble of which the characteristics are a moral decadence and a desire of associating with the base, time after time, in a novel guise came flaunting by. Accompanying this miserable condition and disorder of mind, the stress of helplessness and isolation now and again received a fresh impulse. Although it is the way of the world seldom to form bonds of attachment, but rather the more constantly to sever the ties of friendship, my plain speaking and discernment of hypocrisy co-operated with this worldly tendency. Some friends of Baber's household and intimates of long standing withdrew from association with me. With the burden of affairs on my shoulders and journeying over inequalities of ground and moving through perilous paths, how could I in utter loneliness, reach half way on the road, or when arrive at my destination? But by the advent to the gardens of blessedness of one or two godly friends who in this dearth of manhood were obtained by me, I triumphed over all my difficulties.
Strangely enough, with all this apparatus that inspired fear and this struggle within and without, I did not withold my hand from writing nor did my resolution flag, nay rather, every moment fresh vigour was aroused in me and this momentous conflict grew stronger and the strife of the flesh and the spirit increased until the light of truth shone forth and my difficulties were solved, the wondrous effects of the holy spirit of Majesty were again evidenced in me, and my heart and vision were flooded with an extraordinary light. The writings of the wise of ancient times to some extent corroborated the accuracy of my own course and exculpated my sorry conscience with its ignoble tendencies. What the sages of old affirm is this, that the leader of the caravans of hallowed sovereignty is supreme over high and low, and that the pleasant mead of spiritual and temporal concerns blooms fair under the beneficent lustre of such unique wonder of the world of wisdom: moreover that the visible ruler who is the chosen among thousands of mankind to reduce to order the scattered elements of social organisation holds sway over all men, but his power extends only to their bodies and finds no access to their souls. The lords of spiritual dominion, on the other hand, have no authority save over pure consciences, as the practice of the saints in general and of all holy men illustrates. The ordinary class of professors of learning and the shallow sciolists of the world influence solely the minds of the vulgar, and the effect of their instruction is to be found only in such waste ground. But as the monarch of our time has been appointed sovereign likewise over the invisible world, his sacred inspiration has wrought these extraordinary effects in me who am rude of speech, ignorant and helpless, and raised me from the deeps of ignorance to the heights of knowledge.
With joyful omens blest, my strain
Shall celebrate his glorious reign;
His praises shall my pen proclaim,
And here enshrine his royal name.
My first care was to collect by the aid of heaven, all the transactions of his enduring reign, and I used exceptional and unprecedented diligence in order to record the chief events of my own time. In many of these occurrences I bore a personal share, and I had a perfect knowledge of the under-currents and secret intrigues of State, to say nothing of the ordinary drift of public affairs. And since the insinuations of rumour had prejudiced me and I was not sure of my own memory, I made various inquiries of the principal officers of State and of the grandees and other well-informed dignitaries; and not content with numerous oral statements, I asked permission to put them into writing, and for each event I took the written testimony of more than twenty intelligent and cautious persons. The flagrant contradictory statements of eye-witnesses had reached my ears and amazed me, and my difficulties increased. Here was date of an event not far distant—the actors in the scenes and transactions actually present—their directing spirit exalted on the throne of actual experience—and I with my eyes open observing these manifold discrepancies. By the blessing of daily-increasing favour I determined to remedy this, and set my mind to work out a solution. The perplexity disentangled itself and my bewildered state of mind began to grow calm. By deep reflection and a careful scrutiny, taking up the principal points in which there was general agreement, my satisfaction increased, and where the narrators differed from each other I based my presentation of facts on a footing of discriminate investigation of exact and cautious statements, and this somewhat set my mind at ease. Where an event had equal weight of testimony on both sides, or anything reached me opposed to my own view of the question, I submitted it to His Majesty and freed myself from responsibility. By the blessing of the rising fortunes of the State and the sublimity of the royal wisdom, together with the perfect sincerity of the inquirer and his wakeful destiny, I was completely successful and arrived at the summit of my wishes.
When I had safely traversed these difficult defiles, a work of considerable magnitude was the result. But since at this formidable stage, in the arrangement of these events no minute regard to details had taken place, and their chronological sequence had not been satisfactorily adjusted, I commenced the methodizing of my materials anew, and began to re-write the whole, and I took infinite pains especially bestowing much attention on the chronology of the Divine Era. And since I had the assistance of the highest scientific experts, this task also was with facility completed and a separate table was drawn out. When through supernatural illumination, the announcement of a new basis of computation entered the ear of intelligence, that old and tattered garment was cast aside and a robe of honour newly woven of grace, was substituted, and by the power of the Being who created speech, this great work, with all the difficulties it presented, was brought to a conclusion, and numerous expressions of satisfaction were felicitously evoked.
As this world of tribulation is not a home for the wise of heart, the more so that friends who live for the happiness to come are covered by the veil of concealment and on account of the ingratitude of the incapable, have withdrawn their hearts from participation in the false shows of its delusive scene, I looked upon each of my days as though it were to be my last, and employed myself only in the preparations for my final journey. In this sorrowful condition I hastened along my road, and the labours on the fulfiment of which I had counted were not ordered according to my desire. As by the decree of destiny my life was still prolonged, for the fourth time I renewed the task and gave it all my solicitude. Although my first efforts were now directed to remove all superfluous repetitions, and give continuity to the easy flow of my exposition, I perceived the incomplete arrangement of my fresh materials, and the due ordering of this was undertaken. And since I was new to the road and stricken with grief and friendless, an exceeding depression of spirit came upon me, in that, with all my toil and with such excessive care these many lapses had occurred and such frequent errors had appeared. What would be the result, and where would it all end? I began a fifth revision and went over the work from the beginning. Although all my acknowledged endeavours were directed to immortalize these events and to place their issues in due order, yet as sagacious writers consider that verse is as the savour of salt to prose, I took much pains in the introduction of a few stanzas which should be in harmonious accord with the composition, and many a correction and emendation was made, independently of any consideration of the cavils of numberless critics. The truth is that men close their eyes in regard to their own faults and their own offspring. However much they may oppose the feeling, these defects are approved as merits. I who have made it a practice to be critical of self and indulgent towards others, could employ no collyrium regarding this question, nor devise any remedy for this defect of vision, but on this five-fold revision a rumour of this new development spread abroad. Some of my acquaintances joined in supporting me; others were as unanimous in an underhand depreciation. I formed a resolution, for the sixth time, to set my mind free of its waverings of suggestions, and to exercise the most minute and fastidious criticism; but the frequent calls upon me made by His Majesty left me no time.
I was compelled therefore to present him with this fifth revision, and was rewarded with a perpetual satisfaction.
What mine hath ever yielded gem so fair?
What tongue-born treasure can with this compare?
Beneath each letter is a world concealed,
Each word's expanse shows worlds on worlds revealed.
Its every pearl bedecks the earth and sky,
And if ye see it not—be yours the penalty.
It is my hope that by the blessings of a sincere intention and its own merits, the task which was set before my grateful heart may be happily concluded, and my mind be disburdened in some measure from the distress of its many anxieties. Within the space of seven years, by the aid of a resolute will and a lofty purpose, a compendious survey covering a period from Adam down to the sacred person of the prince regnant, has been concluded, and from the birth of His Imperial Majesty to this day, which is the 42nd of the Divine Era,1 and according to the lunar computation 1006, the occurrences of fifty-five years of that nursling of grace have been felicitously recorded, and my mind has been lightened in some degree of its stupendous burden.
The princely heart that virtue dowers,
For him gems bloom instead of flowers,
And hill and dale his kingdom round
Shall with their monarch's praise resound.
It is my expectation to write in four volumes2 a record of the transactions of the royal house during one hundred and twenty years, which are four generations, that it may stand as a memorial for those who seek knowledge in justice, and with the Institutions of His Majesty as the concluding book, I purposed the completion of the Akbarnámah in these five volumes. By the aid of the Almighty three have been written, and many a secret of wisdom has been revealed and a treasure of truth weighed in the balance.
I bear from wisdom's inmost store
The royal House this treasured lore,
And pray its justice and its grace
May ne'er my memory efface.
And let this loyal offering be
Accepted of its Majesty.
May God His favour grant benign,
And His acceptance deign with thine,
And raise its dignity on high
With thy name's glorious currency,
That it from thee may win renown
And link my fortunes with the throne.
If destiny in its wondrous workings gives me leisure and capricious fortune, opportunity, the remaining two books shall be satisfactorily terminated and form a history of deeds replete with attraction. If not, let others, guided by grace and a propitious fate, set down, year by year, the events of this enduring reign, with a lofty resolution and unremitting industry, in right understanding, with a noble purpose and in a spirit of freedom, rendering populous the habitations of Church and State and fertilizing the gardens of grace and nature with refreshing waters. Let them not forget this obscure wanderer in the desert of aberration and in their glad work acknowledge their obligations to me who first displayed the continuous succession of this series, and suggested to them the manner of its record. But if this be not approved and they desire by recommencing on a new method or fashion of language of the day to compile the transactions of this never-fading dominion,
Be it unto thy peoples' welfare, Lord,
Beneath the shadow of King Akbar's sway.
The writer of this important work had it in his mind to draw up a memoir of his venerable ancestors and some particulars of strange incidents in his own life, and form of them a separate volume which should be a source of instruction to the intelligent who look afar; but various occupations, especially the composition of this work, absorbed his attention to the exclusion of all else. At this juncture a secret inspiration prompted the thought that the world would not welcome the detailed journals of personal biography in an isolated form, and that it would be more opportune to append an account thereof to this work and to intersperse here and there some practical and didactic comments. Accepting this happy suggestion, I have thrown off this sketch and liberated my soul.
Since to vaunt of lineage is to traffic from empty-handedness with the bones of one's ancestors and to bring the wares of ignorance to market, and is to be foolishly vain of the merits of others while blind to one's own defects, I was unwilling to touch the subject or indulge in such idle vapouring. In this demon-haunted wilderness, to be linked by any chain deters advance and the irrigation of the genealogy of the outer world is of no profit to the interior spirit.
Be not, as fools, alone thy father's son;
Forget thy sire; choose merit for thine own.
What though should fire beget a scion as bright,
Smoke can be ne'er the progeny of light.
In ordinary parlance genealogy signifies seed, race, tribe and the like, and the term embraces the distinctions of high and low. Any rational man recognises that the one reverts to the other, inasmuch as among intermediaries in the line of descent some one individual has become distinguished for material wealth or spiritual eminence, and thus become celebrated by name or title or profession or place of birth; whereas the vulgar who, though accounting mankind to be the sons of Adam their primitive father, yet by attending to romantic fictions accept only these assumptions, are evidently1 led astray in this matter by the remoteness of the line and do not realize the actuality of that patriarch. Why then should any upright and discerning man be deluded by these fables and trusting to them, withdraw from the pursuit of truth? What availed the son of Noah his father's communion with the Almighty, and how did the idolatry of his race injure Abraham the friend of God?
Jámí! serve God through love, nor lineage heed,
For such road knows no son of this or that.
Nevertheless through the decrees of fate I am linked to worldlings and associated with those who give priority to birth above worth. Thus I am compelled to alude to it, and to furnish a table for such as them.
The count of honourable ancestry is a long history. How may I retail their holy lives for the unworthy inquisitiveness of the moment? Some wore the garb of saints, some were immersed in secular studies, some were clothed in authority,2 some engaged in commerce and others led lives of solitude and retirement. For a long period the land of Yemen was the home of these high born and virtuous men. Shaykh Músa,3 my fifth ancestor, in his early manhood, withdrew from association with his fellows. Abandoning his home he set out on travel, and accompanied only by his knowledge and his deeds he traversed the habitable globe with a step that profited by what he saw. In the ninth century by the decrees of heaven, he settled in quiet retirement at Rél, a pleasant village of Sewistán, and married into a family of God-fearing and pious people. Although he had come from the desert to a civilized town, he did not exchange his retired habits for the occupations of the world. Ever contemplative on his prayer-carpet of introspection, he wrestled in prayer with himself and spent his precious days in the ordering of the wayward spirit. His virtuous sons and grandchildren following his example lived happily, and were instructed in the esoteric and exoteric doctrines of philosophy. In the beginning of the tenth century Shaykh Khiẓr set out impelled with the desire of visiting the saints of India and of seeing Ḥijáz and the people of his own tribe. Accompanied by a few of his relatives and friends he came to India. At the city of Nágor, Mír Sayyid Yaḥyá Bokhárí of U´ch, who was successor to Makhdúm-i-Jahániyán1 and had a large portion of the spirit of sanctity, Shaykh Abdúr Razzáḳ Ḳádirí of Baghdad (who was one of the distinguished descendants of that paragon among eminent saints, Sayyid Abdu'l Ḳádir Jílí,2 and Shaykh Yúsuf Sindí who had traversed the fields of secular and mystic lore and had acquired many perfections of the religious life, were engaged in the instruction and guidance of the people, and multitudes were profiting by their direction. In his zeal and affection for these eminent teachers and under the attractive influence of the soil of this ancient country, that wandering exile there took up his abode.
In the year A. H. 911 (A. D. 1505), Shaykh Mubárak (my father) came forth from the realm of conception into visible personality and was clothed in the mantle of existence. Through a miraculous efficacy of will, at the age of four he displayed the light of his intelligence and a daily-increasing illumination shone from his auspicious countenance. When nine years old he was already considerably well-informed, and at fourteen had run through the usual course of the studies and had by heart the text-books of every science. Although the grace of God guided the caravan of his wakeful fortune and he had received alms from the street of many a learned mystic, he principally attended Shaykh Atan through whose instruction he increased his interior thirst. This Shaykh was of Turkish extraction and lived to the age of one hundred and twenty. In the reign of Sikandar Lodi he had taken up his residence in that city and had attained to an eminent degree of knowledge under Shaykh Sálár of Nágor who had studied in I´rán and Túrán.
Briefly to resume, Shaykh Khiẓr returned to Sind, his whole object being to bring some of his relations back with him to this country. He died on his journey. Meanwhile a severe famine had befallen Nágor, and an epidemic plague added to the disaster. Except his mother, all other members of his family perished. A resolution to travel had always been uppermost in the enlightened mind of my venerable father, and the desire of seeing the eminent doctors of every land and of soliciting their godly assistance was vehement within him; but that queen of virtue, his lady mother, suffered him not, and no thought of disobeying her entered his righteous mind. In this hesitancy of spirit, he came under Shaykh Fayyází of Bokhárá—may God sanctify his soul:—and his agitation of mind increased. In his early days of study the peerless eyes of that discerning sage had fallen upon a certain servant of God with whom it was his daily fortune to receive interior enlightenment and (guidance to) eternal salvation. He solicited his direction in the choice of a settled course of life. He received the following answer: “About this time a certain person will become an acknowledged master of instruction and will be established as a guide to those who seek knowledge; his name is U'baydu'llah and his distinguishing epithet Khwájah-i-Aḥrár,1 (master of the free of spirit): attend his lectures and follow the course he points out.” The Khwájah at that time was footsore from his long investigations and assiduously sought the great theriac of truth. In due time he attained this eminent rank and Fayyází learnt from him how to seek God. His seclusion was directed to be in absolute obscurity and his (spiritual) office was determined without formal delegation. Wherever the Khwájah in his allusions refers to “the dervish,” he means this wonder of the world (Fayyází).2 For forty years he resided in Turkistán, and in deserts and mountains enjoyed the ecstasy of solitude. He had attained the age of one hundred and twenty years and the fire of his soul was burning with undiminished intensity. One night my father, in the city of my birth, was discussing the subject of religion with some godly and pious persons and many edifying matters had been brought forward, when suddenly the sound of a sigh was heard and a flash of heavenly light shone. However much they attempted to account for this, they could find nothing. The next day after much investigation and a diligent search, it was discovered that this mystic personage was in retirement in a potter's house. My father now for a space reposed in the light of his direction and his own distracted mind ceased to wander. For four months consecutively he enjoyed this happiness and was daily tested by the alchemy of his glance. Within a short period, the time of the Shaykh's departure to heaven drew nigh, and with his mind filled with divine truths, he gave forth his counsels of guidance for those who were seeking revelation, and in ecstasy of spirit and with a serene mind he passed away.
About this time that pattern of pure womanhood who had given my father his earliest instruction, departed this fleeting life. The affair of Maldeo,1 caused an interregnum; my venerable father withdrew towards the seacoast with a view to greater seclusion. His sole purpose was to travel over the country and to derive some profit from intercourse with various classes of men. At Aḥmadábád he fell in with distinguished doctors and further improved his knowledge, and received a high diploma for every important branch of learning. He acquired a various acquaintance with the doctrines of Málik, of Sháfiạí, of Abú Ḥanífah, of Ḥanbal, and of the Imámíyáh2 school, both in the principles of law and the law itself, and by strenuous application acquired the dignity of a mujtahid. Although traditionally from his ancestors he belonged to the theological school of Abú Ḥanífah yet he had always adorned his conduct with discretion, and avoiding a servile following of opinion, submitted only to demonstration and took upon himself the things which the flesh resisted. Thus by his greatness of soul and fortunate destiny he passed from the knowledge of the visible to the understanding of the invisible, and the pleasure-ground of the material world led the way to the kingdom of truth. He had read treatises on Sufism and transcendental theology, and had perused many works on contemplation and worship, especially the verities of Shaykh-b-Arabí, of Shaykh-b-Fáridḥ and of Shaykh Ṣadru'ddín of Iconium. Many doctors of physics and ontology honoured him with their countenance, and many successes attended him and uncommon precepts of direction added to his fame. Among the chief divine graces vouchsafed to him was that he became a disciple of the Kḥaṭíb Abu'l Faẓl Kázarún.3 This personage from his appreciation of merit and knowledge of men, adopted him as a son and deligently instructed him in various knowledge, and made him commit to memory the subtleties of the Shifá,4 the Ishárát, the Tazkirah and Ptolemy's Almagest. Thus the garden of learning was refreshed with irrigation and the penetration of his vision was further increased. That learned man at the instance of the princes of Gujarát, had come from Shíráz to the country, and the groves of wisdom received a renewal of bloom. He had acquired learning under divers theologians of the time, but in the great branch of mystical contemplation he was the disciple of Mauláná Jalálu'ddín Dawwání.1 That learned doctor had first received the leading principles of science from his own father, and subsequently, in Shíráz had attended as a pupil the lectures of Mauláná Muḥyí'ddín Ashkbár, or the Weeper, and Khwájah Ḥasan Sháh Baḳḳál, these two theologians being among the principal pupils of Sayyid Sharíf Jurjání. He for a time also frequented the school of Mauláná Humámu'ddín Gulbárí who was proficient in drawing horoscopes and there lit the lamp of erudition, and through good fortune thus acquired a wonderful extent of knowledge. He had also made a thorough study of philosophical works the principles of which he explained with much elegance, as his treatises on that subject evidence and commendably illustrate. In the same city of grace, my venerable father had the good fortune to attend upon Shaykh U'mar of Tattah, who was one of the greatest saints of the time, and that night-illumining jewel possessing the power of an exquisite discernment, inspired him transcendentally with elevation of soul and sublime knowledge. He also fell in with many doctors of the Shaṭṭárí, Ṭayfúrí, Chishtí and Suhrawardí orders, and profited by their instruction. In the city likewise, he made the acquaintance of Shaykh Yúsuf, who was one of the most ecstatic and inspired of mystics, and through him was filled with new wisdom. He was ever absorbed in the ocean of the divine presence, and omitted no minute particular of ceremonial worship. From the holy influence by which he was surrounded, his desire was to erase altogether from the expanse of his mind the impressions of knowledge, and withdrawing entirely from the conventional obligations of intercourse, to become absorbed in the contemplation of the divine perfections. But that reader of the secrets of the heart's recesses discovering his intention dissuaded him therefrom, and he courteously communicated to him that a ship was about to sail, and that he should visit Agra, and if his difficulties were not there overcome, he should proceed to Irán and Túrán, and wherever the spirit led him or a call directed him, thither should he go and occupy himself with secular teaching.
Conformably to this direction in the first of the (Persian) month of the Urdibihisht (April), in the Jalálí year1 465, corresponding to Saturday, the 6th of Muḥarram 950 A. H. (A. D. 10th April 1543), he happily alighted in that prosperous seat of empire which may God guard from all adversity! In that delightful residence he happened to become acquainted with Shaykh Aláu'ddín Majzúb or the ecstatic, who could read the tablets of the heart and the secrets of the tomb. This saint, in one of his returns to consciousness from an ecstatic trance, informed him that it was God's will that he should remain in that city and abandon further wanderings, and he announced to him good tidings and comforted his roving spirit. He took up his residence on the banks of the Jumna, in the vicinity of Mír Rafíi'u'ddín Ṣafawí of I´j.2 He here married into a Ḳuraysh family distinguished for wisdom and virtue, and lived on terms of intimacy with its head, the chief of the quarter; and this upright personage, looking upon the arrival of that nursling of wisdom as a rare distinction, received him with warmth of affection and cordiality. Since he was a man of much wealth, he wished my father to share his mode of life; but by the guidance of fortune and grace, he did not consent, and preferring the threshold of reliance and an independent mind, he pursued a life of interior recollection combined with worldly pursuits. The Mír was one of the Ḥasaní and Ḥusayní Sayyids. Some account of his ancestors is given in the works of Shaykh Sakháwí. Although their birthplace was originally the village of I´j of Shíráz, yet for a long time past they preferred to live at Ḥijáz, and some members of the family have been continually settled in both places where they have been the givers and recipients of benefit. Although he had studied philosophy and theology under the direction of his own parents, he nevertheless, as a pupil of Mauláná Jalálu'ddín Dawwání, reached a higher distinction therein. In Arabia he studied the various branches of traditional lore under Shaykh Sakháwí of Cairo in Egypt, who was a disciple of Shaykh Ibn-i-Ḥajr al-Asḳalání,1 and when he died in A. H. 954 (A. D. 1547), my father retired to his own seclusion. He continued his efforts in the regeneration of his soul while attending to the perfect propriety of his exterior conduct, and was assiduous in his worship of God. He employed himself in teaching various sciences and made the expounding of the opinions of the ancients an occasion for withholding his own, and gave no tongue—that fatal member—to the expression of desire. Some few prudent and virtuous persons of whose sincerity he was assured, he admitted to his society and appreciated their merits, but from the rest he held himself excused and avoided association with them. In a short time his house became the resort of the learned where high and low were honourably received. Among gatherings of friends, there were also conclaves of the envious, but these did not depress him, nor those elate. Sher Khán, Salím Khán and other grandees proposed for him a stipend from the State revenues and to settle on him a suitable freehold, but as he possessed a high spirit and lofty views he declined and thus raised his own reputation.
As he was gifted with an innate aptitude for the direction of men, and held a divine commission for the enunciation of truth, while at the same time he had the concurrence of the saints of his time and the affection of his well-wishers daily increased, he undertook the guidance of those who frequented his lectures and sought enlightenment, and he denounced all evil habits. Self-interested worldlings took offence and entertained unseemly intentions. As he had no desire to oppose any hostile discussion and allowed no thought of acrimony or servility to enter his mind, he did not the less continue to speak the truth boldly and to reprove evil doers, and did not attempt to win over quarrelsome seceders. And this occasioned that the Almighty miraculously blessed him with true friends and spiritually-minded sons. Although he employed his hours in teaching philosophy, during the time of the Afgháns1 he lectured little on theology. When the lofty crescent-bearing standards of Humáyún shed a new splendour over Hindustan, some students from Irán and Túrán attended the school of that knower of the mysteries of the spirit and of the world, and his lectures grew in repute, and the field of the thirsty in the drought-year of discernment overflowed with water, while timid travellers encamped in the pleasure-ground of repose. Affairs had now scarcely got into train when the evil-eye fell on them, and Hemú2 now rose in the ascendant. The well-disposed withdrew into obscurity and retired in disappointment. My venerable father with a stout heart, continued firm in his own seclusion, and by the favour of God, Hemú sent messengers with expressions of apology, and through the interposition of a man of my father's excellent character many were released from the oppression of anxiety and entered the meads of joy.
In the beginning of the year of the accession of His Majesty to the Imperial throne, as though wild rue3 were set on fire upon the State with the view of arresting the evil-eye, a great famine occurred, which raised the dust of dispersion. The capital was devastated and nothing remained but a few houses. In addition to this and other immeasurable disasters, a plague became epidemical. This calamity and destruction of life extended throughout most of the cities of Hindustan. Still that enlightened sage remained in his seclusion and the dust of tepidity settled not in the serene chamber of his mind. The writer of this work was then five years old,1 and the luminary of discernment so blazed before the arch of his vision that its expression cannot enter the mould of language, nor, if expressed, would it find access to the narrow hearing of mankind. He has a perfect recollection of this event, and the evidence of eye-witnesses confirms his testimony. The distress of the times ruined many families and multitudes died. In that habitation2 about 70 people, in all, male and female, high and low, may have survived. Contemporaries marvelled at the easy circumstances and general cheerfulness of the dervishes and attributed it to magic and incantation. Sometimes a ser of grain would be obtained, which was set to boil in earthenware vessels, and the warm water distributed amongst these people. Most strange of all was that there occurred no difficulty of provision in my father's house, and except the worship of God no other thought disturbed his mind, and save an examination of his own conscience and a perusal of the travels of the spirit no other occupation employed him, until the mercy of God was vouchsafed unto all and a universal affluence lit the countenance of joy. The royal standards shone again with splendour and by a daily increasing justice filled the world with a new radiance. The palace of wisdom grew in amplitude and the wares of knowledge rose to a high price. Science in its many branches and learning of every kind were now diffused. New elucidations, high and lofty views and important discoveries were published abroad and all classes of men received countless benefits from the treasury of intellect. The quiet retirement of that discerning nature became the resort of the learned of the universe, and the highest topics were matters of discussion. But the envy that had been chilled now warmed to life, and the malevolence of the wicked increased. My father steadily followed his own course disregarding the fashion of the times and sitting at the gate of independence pursued not the road of prescribed conventionality. Men of little influence and envious, losing patience followed the path of detraction. Most of them accused him of attachment to the Mahdawí doctrines,1 and uttered the most absurd fictions. They stirred up the simple and ignorant, and did their best to produce keen annoyance by their evil intrigues. The chief instrument in their hands was the affair of Shaykh Aláí.
There is a sect in India who regard Mír Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpúr as the predicted Mahdí and go to extreme lengths in this assertion, and forgetting the other demonstrations2 of this mission besides doctrine, works, and blameless moral conduct, adopt this movement. In the reign of Salím Khán, a youth called Shaykh Aláí, irreproachable in his character and conduct, fell into this whirlpool, and came into that auspicious city (of Agra),3 originally for the purpose of seeing my venerable father with a view to a life of seclusion and retirement. Certain seditious men who sought but a pretext, were loud in their frivolous accusations and gave occasion to scandal. The learned of the day who are ignorant pretenders and sell poisonous herbs under show of antidotes, rose up in malice against him and conspired to put him to death, and even obtained judicial decrees. My father did not concur with them and found neither reason nor tradition on their side. They sought to bring the dispute before the Emperor of Hindustan, and strove for their own undoing. The king assembled a council of the learned of the time, and great efforts were made to obtain a legal sentence. My venerable father was also summoned to attend. When his opinion was asked, he gave it against the crafty pretenders who sought but their own advancement. From that day, they maliciously imputed to him an attachment to that cause, and on so trifling a point as to whether the mission of the Mahdí is a tradition of authority or otherwise,1 out of sheer malignity, they proceeded to such lengths that he was ruined. Some evil-minded men reviled him for the Shíạh tendencies which they presumed he held, not understanding that knowledge is one thing and profession is another.
At this very time they also made a suspect of one of the Sayyids of I'ráḳ2
who was among the choicest souls of the age, whose character and conduct
were alike virtuous and his precepts harmonized with his actions; but by the
royal favour their arm was shortened from reaching him. One day in the
royal presence, they represented that no religious authority should be
accorded to the Mír, and that since his views were repudiated, it would be
inconsistent to recognize his leadership in religious functions. They adduced
some cases in point from ancient Ḥanafí treatises in support of their contention
that the teaching of I'ráḳ dignitaries (ashráf), ought not to be accepted.
The prospects of the Mír were gloomy. As he was on terms of fraternal
religious intimacy with my father, he laid the whole truth before him,
and my father comforted him with judicious counsel and encouraged him to
confront more boldly the suggestions of the wicked, and in refutation of
the traditionary authority that had been cited against him, he stated that
they had not understood its drift. What had been brought forward from
the Ḥanafí works referred not to Persian but to Arabian I'ráḳ, and many
passages he quoted in confirmation thereof; and further that they had not
distinguished between dignitaries
In the fourteenth year of His Majesty's reign, corresponding to A. H. 977 (A. D. 1569-70), my father came forth from his retirement, and great troubles presented themselves, of which I shall briefly make mention as a hortatory instruction. Although the hornet's-nest of envy was still in commotion, and the viper's hole alive with the brood, the night-lamp of friendship dim and even the good intent on molestation had closed the door of estrangement, as has been already alluded to, at this time I say, when learning was regarded with honour and the distinguished of the day were his disciples and the numbers at his lectures were in full attendance and my father, according to his custom, denounced all evil habits and exhorted his friends and well-wishers to avoid them, the learned doctors and divines of the time who regarded his beautiful soul as a mirror to their own defects, maliciously conspired to restore their position. Labouring under the convulsions of their tortuous purposes, they represented to themselves that if they could but adduce some particular instance to convince His Majesty who loved justice, it would signally re-establish their former titles to esteem and result in a condition disastrous (to my father). Oppressed by grief and vexation, they continued their intrigues and boldly advancd in a course of detraction and by their sophistries and crafty insinuations they led astray many of the courtiers with their show of affected regrets. Some amongst the evil-disposed they roused by an appeal to their bigotry.
Although for a considerable period this unseemly conduct had continued, yet by the aid of virtuous and truthful individuals, the conspiracies of the wicked had always been defeated. At this juncture, however, this honest and trusty band were remote, and the chief of these intriguers at court set himself to gratify his malice. These shameless wretches and unclean spirits of evil found their opportunity. My venerable father had gone to the house of a servant of God and I had the happiness of accompanying him. That overweening braggart with his affected haughtiness1 was also present at the visit and began his crafty discourse. The conceit of learning and exuberant youth possessed me. I had never before set foot outside of college to be present at any public functions, but his vain words drove me to open my lips and I spoke so much to the point that he was ashamed and the spectators were amazed. From that day, he vowed to avenge his being convicted of ignorance, and emboldened those who had lost heart. My venerable father was unconscious of their designs and I in my pride of knowledge, gave no heed. At first those worldlings without religion, like crafty schemers, convened assemblies ostensibly in the interests of truth and religion, and by persecuting assaults on those who sought but quiet, many were hunted to death. Whenever a monarch, well meaning and with every good intention, leaves the direction of religion, education and justice entirely to a body who are outwardly respectable, and himself assumes in their regard the mantle of indifference, the influence of the truthful and righteous wanes and the crooked-moving white-ants of learning and the courtiers unite in intrigue against these few and bigotry has full sway. And it comes to pass that families are subverted and reputations totally ruined. At such a time when these wretches had gained credit for virtue, like a bride that is falsely passed off for a virgin and proves a harlot, and when graceless worldlings were triumphant, and the sordid and blind of heart were united in purpose, sympathetic friends remote, the honest of speech secluded, and the gatherings of contention of the profane frequent, these conspiracies were hatched and compacts of persecution made. One of the double-faced and fickle, a fallen angel of malevolent cunning who had insidiously crept into the lecture-rooms of my venerable father under a show of sincerity and was in collusion and understanding with that body, was found and despatched at mid-night inspired with impious deceits and spells to infatuate. That clever imposter at dead of night with a trembling heart and tearful eyes, a pallid colour and dejected countenance, hastened to my elder brother's chamber and his evil spells disturbed that simple soul and seduced one ignorant of guile and deceit. The purport of his information was this: “The principal men of the day have been for a long time hostile, and the faithless and ungrateful without shame. They have now found this opportunity and mean persecution. Many of these turbaned divines are witnesses and having appointed a prosecutor, have incited him to procure an investigation on colourable pretexts into their slanders. Every one knows the influence these men have at court and how many eminent men for their own aggrandizement they have had put out of their way, and what high-handed persecutions they have enforced. I have a friend in their secret counsels. Even now at midnight he informed me of this, and I have in trepidation come to you lest when day breaks it may be too late to mend matters. Now my advice is that they should convey the Shaykh to some concealment without any one's knowledge and let him for a few days live retired until his friends can assemble and he can represent his case fully to His Majesty.” That good soul1 took alarm and with much agitation went to the Shaykh's chamber and informed him of the case. He answered: “Though my enemies may be powerful, the Almighty is vigilant and a just monarch now rules the world. If a handful of godless unprincipled men are unrighteously filled with envy, the obligation of pledges is still binding and the door of investigation is not closed. Moreover, if the decrees of God for my injury have not been issued, though all are united against me they can avail nothing and can do no evil nor inflict harm upon me; but if the will of the Creator be this, I will cheerfully and gladly give my life and withdraw from the possession of this fleeting existence.” As my brother was scarce master of himself and afflicted with grief, mistaking truth for self-deception as he had mistaken a false pretext for condolence he drew his dagger and said, “Practical business is one thing and religious mysticism is another; if you do not go I will at once kill myself; for the rest, look you to it. I shall not await here the day of ruin.” The paternal bond and fatherly affection induced compliance with his wish. At the command of that serene sage I was also awoke.
Under compulsion, then, in the darkness of that night, three persons set out, having no appointed guide and unequal to the fatigues of travel My venerable sire, reflecting on the accidents of fortune, maintained silence, while between myself and my brother than whom one more inexpert at the time in political dealings or worldly business one could not imagine, a conversation continued and we spoke of our place of retreat. Whomsoever he mentioned I objected to and whom I named he disapproved.
With outstretched arm against me comes the foe;
No trusty friend averts the threatened blow.
Throughout the world man and his works I see,
But not a trace bespeaks humanity.
Driven to extremity, after a thousand difficulties we arrived at the house of a person regarding whose fidelity my brother was assured and of whom I, fasting in the morn of existence and of little account in the market of this elemental frame, had not the least suspicion. At the sight of his peaceful and dignified visitors, the man was surprised and regretted our coming and was in hesitancy how to act. At last he found a place for our lodging. When we entered the house it was more forbidding than his own heart. A strange scene took place and an exceeding sorrow filled our minds. My elder brother hung round me saying, “Notwithstanding my greater experience, I have been mistaken, and thou with little knowledge of men hast judged aright. Now what is to be done and what is the course proposed, and where may we take refuge?” I replied, “Nothing has as yet happened; let us return to our own home and let me be the spokesman, and perhaps the badges of office of these worldlings will be removed and the trouble that threatens be overcome.” My father applauded and approved the counsel, but my brother would not consent and said, “Thou hast no knowledge of this business nor perceive the fraud and diabolical malignity of these men. Let us leave this place and discuss as we go along.” Although I had not traversed the desert of experience nor the good and evil ways of men, a divine inspiration suggested a person to my mind and I said, “It has occurred to me that if things go fairly well, such a one will help, but in a time of serious trouble it will be difficult for him to join us.” As time was pressing and our minds in perplexity we set out in his direction. Footsore we proceeded through ways clogged with mud and reflected on the vicissitudes of fortune. Loosing hold of the “strong handle”1 of reliance in God, trudging onwards disspirited and thinking the world in pursuit, we advanced each step with difficulty, breathing with effort, oppressed with exceeding sorrow and believing the day of the resurrection of the wicked at hand.
At dawn we reached his house. At the news he met us with cordiality and found us a suitable lodging and our many cares were somewhat abated. In this retreat after two days, we learnt that these envious agitators had lifted the veil of shame and openly divulged the intentions of their foul minds and like crafty intriguers on the morning of that night they represented their case to His Majesty and perplexed his august mind. An order was issued from the imperial palace that affairs of state should not be transacted without consultation with them, that this was a question of faith and religion the issue of which lay entirely in their hands, that the fugitives should be summoned before the judicial tribunal and whatever the illustrious law decided and the heads of the government determined should be carried out. The royal pursuivants were set on and despatched in search, and when they learnt what had happened they made every effort at discovery. Some evil-doers, plotters of villainy, accompanied them and not finding us in our dwelling and believing a vain report, they surrounded the house and finding my brother Abu'l Khayr in the house they took him to the court and reported our flight with a hundred embellishments, and made it an occasion of shameless accusations. By an extraordinary favour of heaven His sagacious Majesty was apprised of this gathering of interested detractors and their manner of insinuation, and replied, “Why is all this hostility shown against an obscure dervish and learned ascetic, and what is the object of this senseless clamour? The Shaykh constantly travels and has now probably gone abroad for recreation. Why have they brought this boy? and why interdicted the house?” The boy was at once released and the prohibition against the house removed. The breeze of favour now blew upon that dwelling. Since some difficulties were in the way and apprehension was uppermost and various rumours contradicted the above, we fugitives disbelieving it remained in concealment. The base villains covered with confusion now thought that as their victims were without house and home, this was the time to carry out their designs and that some dark-minded miscreants should be engaged to kill them wherever they met them, lest they should learn what had happened and introduce themselves to the royal court and secure justice by the lustre of their talents. Concealing, therefore, the answer of the King, they put forth some alarming and awe-inspiring language as though uttered by his august lips and thus terrified unsuspecting and time-serving friends. And they issued some plausible documents misleading men into wrong conclusions and thus held them back from intended assistance. After a week, the master of the house too becoming discouraged, began to be vexatious and his servants discontinued their former civility. The minds of the fugitives were under apprehension, and their agitated hearts were convinced that the first report had no foundation, that the King was investigating and the world in pursuit, and that the master of the house would undoubtedly surrender them. An exceeding grief overwhelmed them and a great fear entered their hearts. I said: “Judging for myself, of this much I am assured that the original rumour is correct, otherwise they would not have released my brother nor would the guards over our house have been removed. May not this supposed incivility be only outward? In a time of security whenever an ill rumour was heard, even good men, led away by it, rose against us; now if a man like the master of the house, is afraid, what is there to wonder at? and if he intended to apprehend us, there would have been no change in his outward demeanour and he would not have delayed. The fabrications of malevolent reprobates have undoubtedly bewildered him and have induced his men to this, so that seeing this discourtesy we should leave the house and relieve his mind of anxiety.” Thus reflecting we were somewhat recovered and set ourselves to devise some plan, and a dark day dawned more distressful than the first night, and gloomy was the prospect before us. They applauded both my first opinion and this statement of my views and recognized me as a counseller and trusted adviser and overlooking my youth, they promised not to oppose my advice in future.
When evening drew on, with hearts filled with a thousand anxieties and wounded bosoms and minds oppressed with sorrow, we went forth from that dreadful abode of woe, without a helper in sight, with fainting limbs, no place of refuge visible nor any prospect of peace. On a sudden in that gloomy haunt of demons, a flash shone and gladness smiled again. The house of one of the disciples appeared in sight and there for a while we rested. Although his abode was darker than his heart and his heart blacker than our first night, we reposed a while and recovered from bewilderment, but though at the end of our resources and in the depths of depression, our minds continued active and our thoughts were roused to reflection. As we found no place of rest and nothing to comfort us I remarked that we had of late seen all that our best friends and oldest pupils and most steadfast disciples would do for us. The most advisable course to pursue was now to take ourselves away from this city of hypocrisy which was a dungeon inimical to learning and injurious to perfection, and to withdraw from these double-faced friends and unstable acquaintances whose loyalty rests on the breeze of spring and their permanence on a rushing torrent. Perhaps a corner of privacy might be obtained and a stranger take us under his protection. There we might learn somewhat of the condition of His Majesty and discover the measure of his anger or clemency. It was possible to fall in with some kindly and upright friends and get a savour of the state of the times. If the occasion be favourable and fortune propitious we may again see better days, and if not, why the expanse of the world has not been contracted. Every bird has its perch and the corner of its nest and there is no commission of perpetual residence in this region of penalty. A certain noble, having obtained an assignment of land in the neighbourhood of the city had here settled; we might decipher the impressions of truth from the daily journal of his circumstances and the odour of his friendship be inhaled by the sense of a penetrating brain. Let us therefore abandoning all else, betake ourselves to him that we may repose somewhat in that inaccessible spot. Although the amity of worldlings has no fixed centre or constancy, there is this much at least that he has no further intercourse with those people. My good brother, changing his garments, set out at once on the road and hastened in that direction. Our friend was delighted at the news and cordially welcomed our advent as a piece of good fortune. And since it was a time of insecurity, he brought some soldiers1 with him so that no harm could come to us on the road and we should not be at the mercy of evil-disposed pursuers. In the midnight of despair that ready and vigilant friend arrived and conveyed the good tidings of comfort and brought the message of repose. On the instant we changed our garments and started on our journey and by divers roads arrived at his dwelling. He displayed great geniality and did us the highest service and an exceeding contentment was the harbinger of our happiness. For ten days we rested in his house and were safe from the warfare of the world, when suddenly a disaster more overwhelming than the preceding fell upon us from the firmament of fate. For, verily, the man was summoned to the royal court, and with the same strong potation with which the second man had been intoxicated, they finished this one's business and he became more hopelessly drunk than the former. He straightway rolled up the parchment of acquaintance.
One night, leaving that place we came to another friend. He welcomed our auspicious arrival as a privilege. But as he lived in the vicinity of an evil-disposed and turbulent person, he fell into great bewilderment and exceeding anxiety nearly drove him distracted. When the house was all asleep, we set forth without any definite destination in prospect and however much we thought and pondered we found no resting place and therefore with an agitated heart and minds oppressed with sorrow, we returned to his house. Strangely enough the men of the house were not aware that we had left it. For a short space we who had severed the cord of reliance on God, took repose and thus forgot our troubles. My brother expressed his opinion that our leaving the place was an impulse of fear not a counsel of wisdom. However much I represented to him that the man's vacillation was a sufficient guide and the change of manner in his servants a clear proof, it was of no avail and as the signs of dissatisfaction in our host increased, no other remedy was at hand. When that light-headed, improvident and overreaching individual reflected in his mind that these people ignorant of the inconvenience they cause, will take no hint and will not vacate the house, at daybreak without taking counsel with us or saying a kind word, he marched off and his venal servitors loading their tents took their departure. Here were we three left stranded in the wilds, in the neighbourhood of which a cattle-market had been established. A strange predicament it was—no place to abide in—no idea of whither to go—and no veil to conceal us. On every side were double-faced friends, determined enemies, base and cruel men, and time-servers banded together in pursuit, and we sitting in the dust of helplessness, in a wilderness without shelter, with gloomy prospects, in present distress and sunk in prolonged grief. However, in any case it was necessary to rise and proceed. Through that concourse of miscreants we passed on; the protection of God hung a veil before the eyes of men, and under the divine assistance and guard we went forth from that place of terror, and abandoning the fears of companionship and all trust in men, we escaped from the reproach of strangers and the God-speed of friends. We happened to come upon a garden where some kind of refuge offered itself. Our lost vigour returned and our hearts were greatly strengthened. And now it suddenly became manifest that some of our graceless pursuers frequented the place. Wearied with our search we rested for a while. Then with minds distracted and outwardly woebegone we came forth. In whatever direction we went, some unforeseen calamity filled us with gloom and our places were scarcely warm ere we set forth again in the wilderness of danger, until at length in this restless wandering and blind vagrancy the gardener recognised us and our condition became desperate. We were nigh expiring and resigning the bond of life. That good man with many expressions of good will restored our drooping spirits and charitably took us to his house and endeavoured to console us. Although my dear brother was still in the same wretched state and every moment grew paler, my spirits on the contrary rose. I read the signs of probity in the countenance of that genial person. My venerable father himself in communion with God was on the prayer-carpet of prudence and watched the course of events. Some part of the night had passed when the master of the gardener came forward with great cordiality and lengthened the tongue of reproval saying, “What! with such a friend as I am here, do you alight in this place of confusion! Why have you plucked your skirts from me?” and he acted in a manner which we could not have anticipated. I answered: “In this storm, which is according to an enemy's desire, we sought withdrawal from all our sincere friends and loyal well-wishers lest any injury befall them on this account.” He was somewhat confused and said: “If you are not contented to stay in my house, let us see what can be done.” He indicated to us a place of safety; the appearances of sincerity were evident from his language and following his wish, we chose a quiet nook and there alighted. We found here a retreat such as we desired, and from that place we despatched truthful accounts to people of just and commendable dispositions and to faithful friends, and each one became cognizant of our condition and set about remedying it and thus our pulses were quieted.
We remained a little more than a month in that restful place and my good brother went from Agra to Fatḥpúr,1 meaning when he reached the royal camp, to make our devoted partisans more zealous in our behalf. One morning that all-loving and circumspect soul returned with a thousand anxieties and troubles, bringing distressing news. It seems that one of the chief nobles and grey-beard elders of the imperial court on the information of these envious wretches, became furious, and without soliciting the usual permission or paying his submissive respects, entered the presence of Majesty with brusqueness and roughly said, “Has the world come to an end or is the day of resurrection at hand that in this court malicious fanatics have their way and good men are confounded? What ordinance is this that we have; and what ingratitude is this now shown?” My brother who loved peace, acknowledging his good intentions said “To whom dost thou allude and what dost thou want of this person? Hast thou seen a vision? or is thy brain distracted?” When he mentioned the name, His Majesty was surprised at his wrong impression and said: “All the chief men of the day seem determined to persecute and do him to death and have passed judicial decrees against him. They give me no peace for a moment. Although I know that the Shaykh is in such and such a place (mentioning our retreat), I purposely take no notice of it, and I answer each one of them with a rebuke. Thou art clamorous without knowing and dost overstep due limits. Let some one go to-morrow morning and summon the Shaykh to the presence and an assembly of the divines shall be held.” My good brother as soon as he heard of this disturbance came post-haste, and without any one's knowing, as before, we changed our clothes and set out and an anxiety more painful than on any previous occasion of disappointment, filled our minds with misgiving. Although it was in some degree evident how far people were in accord with us and what representations had been made by them to His Majesty and the extent of his knowledge of our circumstances,—knowledge that could read the invisible—nevertheless a greater apprehension disquieted us. Without our host's being aware, that very morning we began our journey. The blazing light of the sun, the dark plots of the wicked, the crush in the streets of the city, the movements of the spies, the absence of friends, the lack of these to share our burdens—what power has a pen of wood to tell but a fraction of this situation? and where even eloquent lips would stammer, what craft can lie in its divided tongue? At last with many heart-sinkings we turned into unbeaten tracks and escaped in some measure the turmoil of the city and the eyes of enemies.
Since the condescension of His Majesty had newly become manifest, we now proposed to get together some horses and from those wilds to hasten on to the city of auspiciousness and alight at the residence of a certain person of whose integrity we had had long experience. Then perchance this turmoil might abate and the King put forth the hand of clemency. Of necessity, then, like prudent men, we prepared the requisites of travel and on a night darker than the minds of the envious and more protracted than the machinations of the vain of speech, we set out on the road. Withal the inexperience of the guide and his crooked proceedings, in the dawn of morning we arrived at that gloomy place. Our not very cordial host though he did not deny us, yet told such a tale of discomfiture as cannot be expressed, and by way of consideration for us said that the occasion had now passed and that His Majesty's august mind was somewhat irritated; had we come before, there would have been no detriment and our difficulties would easily have been overcome: that he could point out a village, in the neighbourhood, in the obscurity of which we might pass a few days until the hallowed pleasure of the King might incline to favour. Putting us into a conveyance he sent us off in that direction. We became a prey to a variety of sorrows. When we reached the spot, the land-proprietor in dependence on whom we had been sent, was absent. We alighted without a shelter in that ruin in the midst of civilization. The overseer had occasion to read a document and discovering the signs of intelligence in our appearance, he sent for us. As we were pressed for time we hurried along the road of refusal and it shortly appeared that this village belonged to one of those said stony-hearted miscreants. The man in his stupidity had sent us here. With much disquietude and full of anxiety we flung ourselves out of the place and taking an unknown guide we made for a village in the dependency of the capital city of Agra whence some savour of friendliness had reached us. Travelling for three kos, on the same day by devious paths we reached our destination. That good man shewed us every courtesy, but it was discovered that there also one of those vain schemers had a farm and that at times he visited the place. Retiring thence, at midnight with downcast hearts we set out for the city and reaching Agra, the capital, at daybreak we discovered the abode of a (supposed) friend. Here for a space in this dust-heap of disappointment and dormitory of oblivion, this place of depravity abounding in demons, this defile of ignorance, we reposed, but it was not long before he began to speak of those malevolent1 enemies of God and shameless intriguers. In the companionship as we were, of such a lying, crazed and quarrelsome fanatic,2 our minds were verily oppressed by a new grief and exceeding bewilderment. And since our feet were worn with tramping, our heads with thoughts of night-travel, our ears with the sound of “come in,” and our eyes with the pricking of sleeplessness, an extraordinary anguish filled our spirits and a weight of grief was in stewardship of our hearts. Of necessity we thought of other plans and the master of the house also, occupied himself in finding a place for us.
Two days we spent in this interior agitation, and passed the hours in thinking each moment was our last until the recollection of a certain well-disposed person occurred to the saintly mind of that serene sage (my father), and by the aid of the master of the house and his assiduous search he was discovered and a thousand happy announcements brought us security. Straightway we went to that abode of peace and received comfort from the cordiality and genial reception of its master. The breeze of prosperity now blew upon the garden of our hopes and the face of our circumstances was newly refreshed. Although he was not one of the infallible guides to truth, he possessed a large share of virtue. In obscurity he lived with good repute; he was rich though possessing little, cheerful in his poverty, and though old in years, youth shone from his aspect. We here had a delightful retreat and we again began our correspondence and sought to repair our fortunes.
For two months we continued to abide in this home of comfort and the door of our desire was unclosed. Well-wishers seeking justice came to our rescue and men of experience and high position girt themselves in our aid. With speech of persuasive friendliness and sweet words of reconciliation they won over the seditious intriguers and ignoble wrong-doers, and next they brought before His Majesty the exemplary conduct of the Shaykh and made their representations in an engaging and conciliatory spirit. His Majesty in his foresight and knowledge of character, vouchsafed the most gracious answers and in his generous impulse and magnanimity desired his attendance. As I was inexperienced in worldly affairs, I did not accompany him and that illumined sage with my elder brother set the face of supplication to the royal court. At once the hornets' nest of the ungrateful was quiet. The disturbed world was at peace. The courses of instruction and the quiet sanctuary of holy recollection were established as before, and the age again displayed the ways of the just.
Love's quarrels of the past, O night, bring never back their pain,
Nor secrets of the heart reveal as yesterday again,
For wearily the hours crept by, thou knowest, with lagging feet,
But give, O, give me back the days of love and union sweet.
About this time my venerable father went on a pilgrimage to holy Delhi and took me with him accompanied by some of the disciples of his saintly conferences. Since the time he had taken up his abode in the metropolis he was so much absorbed in spiritual contemplation in that hermitage of light that he had had no leisure to observe the marvels of earth. Suddenly this desire took possession of his heart and he loosened the skirt of resolve, and honouring me with unique consideration, he made me, who over and above the earthly bonds of sonship was attached by spiritual ties, a partaker of his secret.
To recount briefly; once at early dawn, when his heart was lifted up to heaven and he was upon the carpet of praise and supplication, between sleeping and waking, Khawájah Ḳuṭbu'ddín U'shí and Niẓám u'ddín Awliyá appeared to him, and upon this a conference of numerous divines met and a feast of reconciliation was celebrated, and it was proposed to visit their tombs by way of propitiation and there perform a religious ceremonial after their ordinances. My venerable father after the manner of his saintly ancestors, preserved an exact outward decorum and indulged not in the hearing of songs nor the vanity of silk attire1 and did not approve of the ecstasies of music and dance affected by the Ṣúfis. He spoke against the followers of this practice and he used constantly to say that on the assumption of the indifference between rich and poor, praise and blame, earth and gold, which was one of the principles on which this system proceeded, it contained within itself the volatility of unrest and he regarded it as a place of backsliding unto the wise. He commanded a rigid abstention therefrom, withdrew from it himself and restrained his friends. But, in truth, on this night, these slumberers on the couch of vigilance who looked on this ceremony as they would on their last journey, went into such exhaustive proof of the innocence of their intention and the morality of the act that they carried away the concurrence of my father. In that happy journey many of the tombs of those who sleep in that land of roses were passed, and hearts were filled with light, and blessings were vouchsafed (whereof if the narrative were detailed, men would regard it as an idle fiction and in suspicion might impute the stain of sin), until I was carried from the hermitage of seclusion to the court of worldly intercourse and the gate of prosperity was opened and I obtained the summit of distinction. The condition of the inebriate with greed and those who were a prey to envy became gloomy and my heart was pained and compassionated their confusion. I made a steadfast vow to the Almighty and I promised myself that the wronging of these blind souls who are as a lamp without light and an invisible sign, should be effaced from the path of my upright heart and I would allow no feeling but kindness to enter therein. By the aid of the grace of God I enforced this resolve and gained new satisfaction and my mind new vigour. Men abandoning evil-doing took to sociability and drew the breath of repose. My venerable father occupied himself in admonition and exposed the quarrelsomeness, the crooked ways, the untruth and the unworthiness of men and enjoined the chastisement of evil-doers. I was inclined to be reticent about speaking of these close secrets and was ashamed to reply to my venerable father. Eventually I was compelled to represent what had happened to him to His Majesty and relieved the ebullition of my father's spirit. Many of his anxieties were now relieved and his long open wounds were healed.
To make a long story short, when the imperial standards advanced to the capital of Lahore for reasons of state, and my heart was sore at parting from that preceptor of truth, in the thirty-second year of the reign, corresponding with the lunar year 995 (A. D. 1586-87), I invited his gracious visit. On the 23rd of the 3rd month (Khurdád)1 of the Divine Era and the thirty-second year of the reign, coinciding with Saturday, the 6th of Rajab of the above lunar year (31st May, 1586), that knower of all things material and spiritual fulfilling my desire, cast the shadow of his beneficence on me who though engaged in the world preferred solitude, and honoured me by special kindnesses. He ever found delight in seclusion, and renouncing all else passed his days in self introspection and in the renovation of the ever-capricious spirit.
Inasmuch as he troubled himself little about worldly knowledge, his conversation was always regarding the essence and attributes of God and he took heedful warning and led an independent life apart and gathered the skirts of liberation of spirit until his august health lost its elementary equilibrium. Although he had often suffered in the same way before, he learnt on this occasion, that it was his last journey and summoning this bewildered creature addressed me in words of salutary advice and went through the last obligations of farewell. As all that he said was between us alone and he shared with me in confidence his inmost thoughts, I kept down my anguish of heart and with many efforts commanded some self-restraint and by the miraculous efficacy of that leader in the world of sanctity, to some extent was calm. After seven days, in full consciousness and at the very dawn of the 24th of the 5th month (Amurdád) of the Divine Era, on the 17th of Zí'lḳaạdah, A. H. 1001. (Tuesday 4th August,1 1593) he passed into the gardens of paradise. The luminary of the firmament of knowledge became obscured and the light of an understanding that knew God grew dim. The back of Learning was bowed and the days of Wisdom itself passed away. Jupiter withdrew his robe from his head and Mercury destroyed his pen.2
Gone from the world is he its peerless sage
That to its gaze oped Wisdom's heavenly page.
Where shall his orphaned kin such marvel find,
The Adam and Messiah of his kind!
This has been to some extent evidenced in what has gone before.
As I have now recounted somewhat of my ancestors, I proceed to say a few words regarding myself and thus unburden my mind, in order to refresh this narrative and loosen the bonds of my tongue. In the year 473 of the Jalálí era, corresponding to the night of Sunday, the 6th of Muḥarram 958 of the lunar reckoning (14th January 1551), my pure spirit joined to this elemental body came forth from the womb into this fair expanse of the world. At a little over one year I had the miraculous gift of fluent speech and at five years of age I had acquired an unusual stock of information and could both read and write. At the age of seven I became the treasurer of my father's stores of knowledge and a trusty keeper of the jewels of hidden meaning and as a serpent,1 guarded the treasure. And it was strange that by a freak of fortune my heart was disinclined, my will ever averse, and my disposition repugnant to conventional learning and the ordinary courses of instruction. Generally I could not understand them. My father in his way conjured with the spell of knowledge and taught me a little of every branch of science, and although my intelligence grew, I gained no deep impressions from the school of learning. Sometimes I understood nothing at all, at others doubts suggested themselves which my tongue was incapable of explaining. Either shame made me hesitate or I had not the power of expression. I used to weep in public and put all the blame upon myself. In this state of things I came into fellowship of mind with a congenial helper and my spirit recovered from that ignorance and incomprehension. Not many days had elapsed before his conversation and society induced me to go to college and there they restored to rest my bewildered and dissipated mind and by the wondrous working of destiny they took me away and brought another back.
The temple as I entered, drew they nigh
And brought their gift, a wine-cup brimming high.
Its strength snatched all my senses, self from self,
Wherein some other entered and not I.
The truths of philosophy and the subtleties of the schools now appeared plain, and a book which I had never before seen gave me a clearer insight than any thing I could read. Although I had a special gift which came down upon me from the throne of holiness, yet the inspirations of my venerable father and his making me commit to memory the essential elements of every branch of science, together with the unbroken continuity of this chain, was of immense help, and became one of the most important causes of my enlightenment. For ten years longer I made no distinction between night and day, teaching and learning, and recognized no difference between satiety and hunger, nor discriminated between privacy and society, nor had I the power to dissever pain from pleasure. I acknowledged nothing else but the bond of demonstration and the tie of knowledge. Those who had a regard for my constitution, from seeing that two and sometimes three days passed without my taking food, and that my studious spirit had no inclination therefor, were amazed, and stood out strongly against it. I answered that my withdrawal was now a matter of habit and custom, and how was it that no one was astonished when the natural inclination of a sick man on an attack of illness was averse from food. If therefore my love of study induced forgetfulness, where was the wonder? Most of the current arguments of the schools, frequently misquoted and misunderstood when heard, and abstruse questions from ancient works, had been presented to the fresh tablet of my mind. Before these points had been elucidated and the attribution to me of extreme ignorance had passed to that of transcendent knowledge, I had taken objection to ancient writers, and men learning my youth, dissented, and my mind was troubled and my inexperienced heart was in agitation. Once in the early part of my career they brought the gloss of Khwájah Abu'l Ḳásim, on the Muṭawwal.1 All that I had stated before learned doctors and divines of which some of my friends had taken notes, was there found, and those present were astounded and withdrew their dissent, and began to regard me with other eyes and to raise the wicket of misunderstanding and to open the gate of comprehension. In my early days of study, the gloss of Iṣfahání more than half of which had been eaten by white ants, came under my observation. The public being in despair at profiting by it, I removed the parts that had been eaten and joined blank paper to the rest. In the serene hours of morning, with a little reflection, I discovered the beginnings and endings of each fragment and conjecturally penned a draft text which I transcribed on the paper. In the meanwhile the entire work was discovered, and when both were compared, in two or three places only were there found differences of words, though synonymous in meaning; and in three or four others, (differing) citations but approximate in sense. All were astounded.
The more my will was engaged, the more my mind was illumined. At the age of twenty the good tidings of my independence reached me. My mind cast off its former bonds and my early bewilderment recurred. With a parade of much learning, the intoxication of youth effervescing, the skirts of pretension spread wide, and the world-displaying cup of wisdom in my hand, the ringings of delirium began to sound in my ears, and suggested a total withdrawal from the world. Meanwhile the wise prince-regnant called me to mind and drew me from my obscurity, somewhat of which I have in its entirety and somewhat but approximately suggested and acknowledged. Here my coin has been tested and its full weight passed into currency. Men now view me with a different regard, and many effusive speeches have been made amid felicitous congratulations evoked.
On this day which is the last of the 42nd year of His Majesty's reign (A. D. 1598), my spirit again breaks away from its yoke and a new solicitude arises within me.
My songster heart knows not King David's strains:
Let it go free—'tis no bird for a cage.
I know not how it will all end nor in what resting-place my last journey will have to be made, but from the beginning of my existence until now the grace of God has continuously kept me under its protection. It is my firm hope that my last moments may be spent in doing His will and that I may pass unburdened to eternal rest.
As the enumeration of the benefits of God is one way of expressing gratitude therefor, I here set down a few of these and invigorate my spirit:—
The first blessing which I possessed was in belonging to a noble family. It may be hoped that the virtue of my ancestors may atone for my unworthiness and prove a restoration in allaying the turbulence of my spirit, as pain by medicine, fire by water, heat by cold, and a lover by the sight of his beloved.
The second, the prosperity of the age and the general security of the times. As eminent men of old have belauded the justice of strangers, what wonder if I glory in the puissance of the monarch of the visible and invisible worlds.
The third, the happy fortune that brought me from the womb of fate into so happy a time when the august shadow of majesty has fallen upon me.
The fourth, my noble birth on both sides. Somewhat of my father has already been said. What shall I write of her, (my mother), the fragrance of chastity? She possessed all the noble qualities of men and always adorned her precious hours with good works. She united modesty with strength of character, and her words were in accord with her deeds.
The fifth, soundness of limbs, proportionate balance of powers and their conformity.
The sixth, a long ministering unto those two blessed personages. It was a fortress against outward and inward disasters, and a fence against material and spiritual calamities.
The seventh, excellent health, and the antidote of bodily vigour.
The eighth, a good house.
The ninth, freedom from care as to means, and happy circumstances.
The tenth, a daily increasing delight in doing the will of my parents.
The eleventh, the kindness of a father which beyond the ambition of the times loaded me with many bounties and distinguished me as the true patriarch of his house.
The twelfth, prayerfulness at the throne of God.
The thirteenth, imploring the favours of pious ascetics and true seekers of wisdom.
The fourteenth, a perpetual guiding grace.
The fifteenth, the collection of books on sciences. Without dishonourable curiosity I became acquainted with the tenets of all creeds, and my spirit was weary of their multitude.
The sixteenth, the constant incitement to study on the part of my father and his restraining me from dissipating thoughts.
The seventeenth, virtuous companions.
The eighteenth, a material love, ordinarily the disturber of households and an earthquake of moral obligations, guided me to the goal of perfection. This wonder fills me every moment with a new astonishment and from time to time I am lost in amazement.
The nineteenth, the service of His Majesty which is a new birth and fresh happiness.
The twentieth, the recovery from my arrogant presumption through the grace of His Majesty's service.
The twenty-first, attaining to a perfect peace through blessings of his august condescension. For some turned from speech to silence; others joined in harmony with the upright of all sects, and for the remaining evil-doers, their penitence being accepted, a reconciliation was brought about. May Almighty God remove the impressions of evil by the rays of knowledge.
The twenty-second, my spiritual intercourse with the King of all those that know God.
The twenty-third, the raising of me up by His wise Majesty and the bestowal upon me of his confidence without the recommendation of men or my own seeking.
The twenty-fourth, the possession of brethren wise, virtuous, and seeking the pleasure of others.
Of my eldest brother what shall I say? who notwithstanding his spiritual and worldly perfections, took no step without my concurrence, indiscreet as I am, and devoting himself to my interests, advanced my promotion and was an aid to good intentions. In his poems he speaks of me in a manner which I cannot sufficiently acknowledge, as he says in his Eulogium:
My verse may share both great and little worth,
Its theme sublime—I lowlier than the earth.
A father's virtues shall it far proclaim
And vaunt the glory of a brother's fame;
He, touchstone of all wisdom, who inspires
My strain with sweetness that a world admires;
If through a riper age, I pass him by,
In merit, centuries between us lie.
What though the branching savin taller grows,
What gardener mates its beauty with the rose?
He was born in the Jalálí year 469, corresponding to A. H. 954 (A. D. 1547). In what tongue shall I indite his praise? In this work I have already written of him1 and poured forth the anguish of my heart, and quenched its furnace with the water of narration and broken the dam of its torrents and alleviated my want of resignation. His works which are the scales of eloquence and penetration and the lawns of the birds of song, praise him2 and speak his perfections and recall his virtues.
Another was Shaykh Abu'l Barakát. He was born on the night of the 6th of Mihr Máh (September) of the Jalálí year 475, corresponding to the night of the 17th Shawwál, A. H. 960 (25th September 1553). Although he has not attained to any high distinction in learning, he has nevertheless a considerable share of erudition, and in knowledge of affairs and as a military tactician3 and for his practical sagacity he is considered one of the foremost. He is especially distinguished for his goodness of disposition, his reverence for holy men, and his benevolence.
Another was Shaykh Abu'l Khayr. He was born on the 10th of Isfandármuz (February) in the fourth year of His Majesty's reign, corresponding to Monday, the 22nd of Jumáda I., A. H. 967 (18th February 1560). The highest morals and most excellent qualities distinguished his disposition. He understood the temper of the times and kept his tongue like all his other members under the command of reason.
The next was Shaykh Abu'l Makárim. His birth took place on the night of the 1st of Urdibihisht (April) in the 14th year of His Majesty's reign, corresponding to Monday, the 23rd of Shawwál, A. H. 976 (9th April 1569). Although at first he was a little unruly, the miraculous efficacy of my venerable father's will brought him back to the path of duty and rectitude and he read much of philosphy and tradition under that discerner of the mysteries of the spiritual and material worlds. Somewhat before his study of the ancient philosophers he read with Amír Faṭh u'llah Shírází.1 He walks with circumspection and I trust he may reach the goal of his desire.
The next was Shaykh Abú Turáb. He was born on the 1st of Bahman Máh (January), in the 29th year of the reign corresponding to Friday, 23rd of Zi'l Ḥijjah A. H. 988 (27th January 1581). Although he was by another mother, he has the happiness of being admitted to court and occupies himself in the acquisition of all perfections.
The next was Shaykh Abu'l Ḥámid. He was born on the 6th of Day Máh (December) the 30th of the reign, corresponding to Monday the 3rd Rabíi' II., A. H. 1002 (17th December 1593).
The next was Shaykh Abú Ráshid. He was born on the 5th of Bahman Máh i Iláhi (January), the 23rd year of the reign corresponding with Monday, 1st of Jumáda I of the same year (12th January 1594).
Although these (last) two scions of the house of prosperity are of concubines, they bear on their countenances the marks of good breeding. That illustrious sage when informed of their coming birth, fixed the names they were to bear. Before they were born he died. I hope that through his inestimable prayers, fortune may wait on happiness and that they may become the recipients of numerous favours.
Although my elder brother is dead and has thrown the world into mourning, I pray that the other nurslings of joy may attain to long life in glad prosperity and the fruition both of this world and the next and be blessed with good things temporal and spiritual.
The twenty-fifth, my marriage into an honourable house and a family distinguished for learning and the respect in which it was held. This gave my outward person credit and was as a leading rein to my unruly spirit, Hindu, Kashmírí and Persian wives were occasions of great joy to me.
The twenty-sixth, the blessing of a dear and virtuous son. He was born on the night of the 18th of Day Máh (December) in the 16th year of the reign, corresponding to Monday night, the 12th Shạbán 979 (29th December 1571.) My father named him Abdu'r Raḥmán. Although he is of Hindustani extraction, he has the Greek temperament and is fond of study, has much experience of the good and evil of life, and his countenance displays the marks of a happy fortune. His Majesty has allied him in marriage with his foster family.1
The twenty-seventh, the sight of a grandson. On the night of the 30th of the month of Amurdád Máh i Iláhi in the 30th year of the reign corresponding with Friday, 3rd Zí'l Ḳaạdah 999 (13th August 1591), in an auspicious moment, this child of happy destiny appeared and the favour of God became manifest. His Majesty gave this sapling in the garden of felicity the name of Bishútan.2 It is my hope that he may be blessed with the highest perfections of nature and grace and attain to the fruition of eternal bliss.
The twenty-eighth, a love for the study of moral treatises.
The twenty-ninth, the knowledge of the rational soul. For many years I had studied the principles of ontology and physics and had conversed much with the professors of these two sciences and all the proofs by indagation and evidence, inductive and ocular, had come under my observation. Still the path of doubt remained unclosed and my mind was not satisfied. By the blessing of faith this difficulty was solved and I became convinced that the rational soul is a subtile divine essence separate from the body, having, however, a peculiar union with this elemental form.
The thirtieth, that from high principle, the awe of the great in place has never withheld me from speaking the truth nor interfered with my pursuit of knowledge and light, nor the fear of ruin to property, life and reputation made me falter in this resolution; thus my course has run on like a flowing stream.
The thirty-first, indifference to worldly considerations.
The thirty-second, the grace to complete this work. Although the motive of this divine book is the praise of God which I have proclaimed with a tongue under the spell of a daily increasing felicity and gratitude for His favours expressed by the language of my pen, nevertheless it is the fountain head of various knowledge and a mine of wisdom to many. To industrious workers it is a guide, and the triflers and gay will find their portion therein. To youth it will be a source of pleasure, to manhood a cause of pride. The stricken in years will there find the experience of ages, and those who lavish the silver and the gold of this world will therein recognise the ordinances of manly fortitude. To the jewel of perspicacity it is a glad weighing-place; to the grasses of freedom, a fertile soil. It is the wicket to the laboratory of skill for the morn of felicity, the deep sea of creation's gem. The favoured who seek for fame will in it find the road thereto, and the godly who pursue truth will rejoice in the custody of the volume of their deeds. Merchants of every kind of ware will learn the ways of profit, and champions in the arena of valour will read therein the tablets of heroism. Those who mortify the flesh for the edification of the spirit will take therefrom the institutes of virtue, and the blessed and sincere of heart will gather thence treasures without end, while those who repose in the pleasant vales of truth will by its means attain to their desire.
A wondrous work herein behold
That wisdom's treasures all enfold;
So fair upon its page they show
That he who reads shall wiser grow.
These various benefits annonnce the good tidings which my heart hears in gladness that the conclusion of my task will make for goodness and avail me unto everlasting bliss.
Although the son of Mubárak is at the present time the object of resentment and held up as a warning to mankind, and a strife of love and hate is kindled in his regard, the worshippers of God who seek truth give him the name of Abu'l Waḥdat,1 and account him a unique servant of the Supreme Giver. The valourous in the field of bravery style him Abu'l Himmat and deem him one of the wonders of carnal self-denial. Wisdom proclaims him Abu'l Fiṭrat, and considers him a choice specimen of that sublime house. In the writings of the vulgar herd which are noisy dens of ignorance, some attribute worldliness to him and hold him to be one of those plunged into this whirlpool, while others regard him as given up to scepticism and apostacy, and band together in reproof and condemnation.
Of me a hundred fictions rumoured fly,
And the world stares if I a word reply.
God be praised that I am not moved from these honorable dispositions by watching the strange vicissitudes of life, nor turn from well-wishing both to those who blame and those who commend, and defile not my tongue with reproof or praise.
The dullard's eye to sterling merit dim,
True ring of minted gold tells nought to him.
Worth must from noble souls unhidden blaze,
As from the moon her light, from Jupiter his rays.
OF THE
A´I´N-I-AKBARI´.
[The numbers refer to the pages; n. means ‘footnote.’]
AA´NAH, 80 and n.
Aaron, 377.
Abádhita vishayatva, 144 and n 1.
A´bah, 84.
Abarḳúh, 67.
A´baskún, 86, 343 and n 3.
Abbadán, 66.
Abbasides, The, 427 n 2.
Abbí Bargés, 61 n.
Abdáls, The, 376 and n 3, 377.
Abdu'l Ghafúr of Lár, Mauláná, 374.
Abdu'l Ḥaḳḳ, Shaykh Muḥd., 374.
Abdu'l Ḳádir, Mauláná, 375.
Abdu'l Ḳádir Jílí, 357, 362, 419.
Abdu'l Karím, 76 n.
Abdu'l Ḳuddús, Shaykh 374 and n 2.
Abdu'l Laṭíf, 75 n.
Abdu'l Laṭíf's History of Egypt, 426 n 2.
Abdu'l Malik, Caliph, 340.
Abdu'l Mụṭí, Mḥd., 353 n.
Abdu'l Wahháb, Shaykh Ḥájí, 374.
Abdu'l Wáḥid-b-Zaid, 354, 357.
Abdu'llah Khán, 346, 387 and n 1.
Abdu'llah-ibn-u'l Muḳffạ, 340 n.
Abdu'llah-b-Ṭáhir, 85 n.
Abdu'r Raḥmán, 75 n.
Abdu'r Rashíd-b-Maḥmúd, 341.
Abdú'r Razzáḳ, Shaykh, 374, 419.
Abelmeula, 378 n 1.
Abhar, 83 and n, 84 n, 87 n, 362 n 2.
Abháva, 132, 134, 138 n 3, 151, 154, 156 n 4.
Abhidha, 239 n 1.
Abhijit, 22 and n 1.
Abhiniveśa, 181.
Abhisáriká, 243.
Abhyása, 182.
Abishkhwur Núri Serábdil, 352.
Abiward, 92 and n, 357.
Ablaḳ, al-, 57 n.
Abraham, 343 n 1, 376, 377 n 1, 418.
Abrakhis, 90.
Abram, 375 n 2.
Abrárs, The, 376 n 3.
Abrúḳ, 99.
Abú, 189 n.
Abú Aḥmad Abdál, Khwájah, 357.
Abú Alí al-Fárisí, 422 n.
Abú Alí Firozábádí, 356.
Abú Bakr al-Harawí, 99 n.
Abú Bakr aṣ Ṣiddíḳ, 84 n, 356, 360.
Abú Dulaf, 83 n.
Abú Ḥafṣ, 351, 352
Abú Ḥanífah, 370, 374, 421.
Abú Hurayrah, 391 n.
Abú Isḥáḳ-b-Shahryár, 356.
Abú Isḥáḳ Shámí, 357.
Abú Maạshar of Balkh, 3, 29 n 1, 349.
Abú Nawás, 79 n.
Abú Sạíd al-Mubárak, 358.
Abú Saráya, 326 n 5.
Abú Sufyán Thaurí, 351 and n 2, 355 n 1, 357.
Abú Ṭálib, Shaykh, 353.
Abu Tíj, 71.
Abú U'bayd Biṣrí, 353.
Abú Umayyah, 354 n 3.
Abú Zaid, 54 n.
Abu'l Abbás, al-Khiẓr, 375.
Abu'l Akúl, 49 n.
Abul Fazl, 10 n 1, 13 n 2, 15 n 1, 19 n 1, 22 n 2, 26 n 1, 42 nn 1 and 2, 43, n 3, 46 n 1, 64 n, 66 n, 81 n, 94 n, 97 n 105 n 1, 110 n 1, 117 n 3, 123 n 1, 129 n 1, 130 n 1, 135 n 1, 157n 2, 158 n, 161 n 1, 163 n, 166 n 1, 174 n 4, 176 n 2, 178 n, 191 n 2, 195 nn 1 and 3, 200 n 6, 202 n, 204 n, 206 n, 211 n 1, 218 n, 220 n 4, 221 n 3, 222 nn 1 and 2, 228 n 2, 232 n 1, 233 n 1, 238 nn 2 and 3, 239 n 1, 240 n 3, 243 n 3, 246 n, 247 n 3, 248 n 2, 250 n 5, 252 n, 353 n 2, 261 n 1, 264 n 2, 269 n 1, 271 n 3, 276 n 2, 307 n 4, 308 n 1, 319 n 2, 331 n 1, 340 n 1, 347 n 2, 351 n 2, 358 n 3, 361 n, 368 n 1, 373 n 1, 376 n 1, 378 n 1, 390 n 3, 394, n 1, 404 n 1, 410 n 3, 418 n 3, 421 n 1, 423 n 2, 426 n 2, 442 n 1, 448 n.
Abu'l Fazl, minister of Samani, 340 n.
Abulfeda, 29 n 1, 33 n 1, 39 n 2, 43 n 3, 47 n, 48 n, 49 n, 50 n, 51 n, 52 n, 53 n, 54 n, 56 n, 57 n, 58 n, 59 n, 60 n, 61 n, 62 n, 63 n, 65 n, 66 n, 67 n, 68 n, 70 n, 71 n, 72 n, 73 n, 74 n, 75 n, 76 n, 77 n, 79 n, 80 n, 81 n, 82 n, 83 n, 84 n, 85 n, 87 n, 88 n, 89 n, 90 n, 91 n, 92 n, 93 n, 94 n, 95 n, 96 n, 97 n, 98 n, 100 n, 101 n, 103 n, 104 n.
Abúldah, 102.
Abu'l Ḥawárí, Aḥmad, 352.
Abu'l Ḳásim, Khwájah, 444 and n 1.
Abu'l Mạálí N. Mustaufí, 341.
Abu'l Muayyad, Shaykh Nizámu'ddín, 366.
Abydos, 101 n.
Abyssinia, 47 and n, 109, 124 n.
Abzou, 101.
A´chamíyyá, The, 305.
A´cháránga, The, 203.
A´chárya, The, 206.
A´chárya, 283.
Achilles Tatius, 38 n 1.
Achín, 7.
Acre, 64 n.
Adá, 253.
A´dábu'l Murídín, The, 357.
Adam, 49 n, 134 n 1, 325 and n 1, 397, 398.
Aḍanah, 78.
Adbhuta, 241.
Adelard de Bath, 30 n 1.
Aden, 48, 50 n, 54 n.
Aden, Gulf of, 47 n, 48 n.
Adhaḥ, 113.
Adhamá, 243.
Adhamí order, The, 354.
Adharma, 137, 141, 201 nn 2 and 4, 202 n 2, 264.
Adharmástikáya, 201.
A´dhatí, The, 255.
A´dhibhautika, 173.
A´dhidaivika, 173.
Adhína, 150.
Adhírá, 242.
Aḍhudu'd Daulah, 25 n 1, 74 n.
A´dhyátmika, 173.
Adhyáyá, 150, 175.
Adhyayana siddhi, 176.
A´dinátha, 192, 197.
Aditi, 227 and n 2, 228, 230, 288, 290.
A´ditya Upa-puráṇa, The, 220.
A´dityaloka, 149 and n 1.
A´dityas, The, 227 n 2, 290.
Aḍrishṭa, 148 n 1.
Adulis, 48 n.
A-dvaita, 159 n.
Ægean, The, 110 n 1.
Æschylus, 109 n 2.
Afam, 105.
Afghán of Shál, 119.
Afghanistan, 124 n 425 n 1.
Afghánpúr, 365 n 1.
Afrásiáb, 29 n 1, 87 n.
Afráz Haroz, 81 n.
Africa, 20 n 2, 43 n 3, 49 n, 52 n, 53 n, 61, 62, 71, 81 n, 90 n, 9, 108 n 2, 110, 124 n.
African, Province of, 62 n.
Agada-tantra, 225 n.
A´gama, 237.
Aghades, 55 n.
Aghmát, 70.
Agharjah, 96.
Agni, 113 and n 2, 153 n 3, 168 n 1, 172 n 1, 224 n 3, 276 n 1.
Agni Puráṇa, The, 220.
Agnídhra, 31 n 1.
Agni-hotra, The, 276 and n 2.
Agra, 59, 251, 288 and n, 289, 292, 423, 425 n 2, 426 n 1, 427 and n 3, 437, 438, 439.
Ahalyá, 151 n.
Ahankára, 139 n 1, 162, 163, 165 n 3, 170, 171, 173, 174, 178, 302 and n 3.
A´hata, 245.
Ahinśá, 184.
Ahír caste, The, 316 n 1.
Ahitit-pújá, The, 277.
Aḥmad Gugarátí, Sulṭán, 371.
Aḥmadábád, 58, 371, 421.
A´hnika, 150.
Aḥsá, 58 and n.
Ahú, 397.
Ahwáz, 64 n, 65, 66 n, 73 and n, 336 n 1, 407 n 1.
Aidháb, 57.
Aimák, 118 n.
Aindra, 172.
Aindreyaka, 173 n 4.
A´ín-i-Akbari, The, 312 n 2.
Ain Járaḥ, 75.
Aintáb, 91.
Ain u'sh Shams, 74.
Air, nine kinds of, 17.
Airávata, 286.
Aiśvarya, 171, 180, 187.
Aitihya, 156 n 4.
Ajíva, 201 and n 3, 202 n 2.
Ajmer, 59, 362, 421 n 1.
Ajmere-Merwár, 307 n 2.
Ajṅnána, 140 n 2, 160, 164, 165.
Ajodhan, 364, 365, 368.
Ajodhya, 59.
Aḳabah, 53 n, 63.
Aḳabah, Gulf of, 57 n.
Aḳadír, 61 n.
Akáranga Sútra, The, 203 n 1, 208 n 1.
A´káśa, 132, 200, 202 n 2.
Akbar, 2, 9, 12, 15, 59, 69, 120, 125, 210 212, 252 and n, 257, 258, 278, 314 n 3, 331 n 1, 349 n 1, 363 n, 380, 383 n 1, 387 n 1, 392, 404 n 1, 405, 417, 421 n 1, 425 n 2, 430 n 1, 449 n 1.
Akbar's Dream, 272, n 1.
Akbarnámah, The, 359, n 1, 416, 426 n 2.
Akerman, 102 n, 104 n.
Akháṛá, The, 258.
Akhí Siráj, Shaykh, 365, 371.
Akhláṭ, 95.
Akhmím, 55 n, 56 n.
Akhsíkat, 98 and n.
Akhtúb, 378 and n 1.
Akhyárs, The, 376 n 3.
Aḳja-Kirmán, 102.
Aklishṭi, 180.
Aḳsarái, 95.
Aksha, Latitude, 35.
Aḳshahr, 95.
Akshara, 150.
Aḳṣur, 55, 56 n.
Alabdha-bhúmikatva, 181.
Al-Ablaḳ, 57 n.
Alaf Khán, 365 n 1.
Alaknanda, The, 226 n 2.
Alaksar, 56 n.
Alanjah, 53, 56 n.
Alápa, 252 n and n 3, 253 n.
A´lasya, 181.
Aláu'ddaulah, Shaykh, 376 and n 1.
Aláu'ddín, Sulṭán, 251 n 1.
Aláu'ddín Ghorí, 341, 342, 345 n 1, 363 n.
Aláu'ddín Majzúb, Shaykh, 423.
Aláu'ddín Masạúd Sháh, 345, 346, 347 and n 2, 348.
Aláu'ddín Muḥammad, Shaykh, 372.
Aláu'l Ḥaḳḳ, Shaykh, 365, 371.
Aláya, 94.
Albania, 110 n 1.
Albano, 249 n 1.
Al Basra, 76 n.
Albert the Great, 30 n 1.
Albírúní, 26 n 1, 28 n 2, 29 n 1, 35 nn 2 and 3, 36 n 1, 37 n 1, 39 nn 1 and 3, 40 n 1, 43 n 3, 50 n, 105 n 1, 106, 107 n, 109 n, 110 n 1, 111 n 1, 116 n 2, 123, n 1, 226 n 3, 227 n, 232 n 1, 281 n 2, 294 n 1, 307 n 2, 318 n 1, 319 n 3, 320 n 2.
Albírúní's Chronology, 17 n 2, 19 n 2, 22 n 2, 40 n 1.
Albírúní's India, 11 n 1, 12 n 2, 14 n 2, 15 n 1, 17 n 2, 18 n 1, 19 n 2, 20 n 5, 21 n 1, 22 nn, 23 and n 1, 25 nn 2 and 8, 26 n 1, 28 n 2, 35 nn 2 and 3, 36 n 1, 37 n 1, 39 nn 1 and 3, 43 n 3, 59 n, 105 n 1, 107 n, 109 n, 110 n 1, 111 n 1, 123 n 1, 226 n 3.
Aleppo, 20 n 2, 75 n, 78 and n, 90 and n, 91 n.
Alexander, 42, 78 n, 79 n, 91 n, 120 n 1, 330, 331 and n 1, 332 and n 2, 334, 335, 376 n, 377 and n 1, 392 and n 1, 411 n 1.
Alexandretta, 78 n.
Alexandria, 24 n 2, 63 n 1, 75 n.
Alfazári, 105 n 1.
Algeciras, 76 n.
Algeria, 72 n.
Algiers, 59 n.
Algú, 346.
Alí, 350 n 2, 354, 359 n 4.
Alí Beg, 348.
Alí-b-Bakkár, 357.
Alí-b-Masạúd-b-Maḥmúd, 341.
Alí-b-Músá ar-Riḍha, 86 n.
Alí Kharwá, 397.
Alḳaṣr-al Kabír, 76 n.
Allahabad, 32 n 3, 59 n, 232.
Allahábád, Ṣúbah of, 59 n.
Allains, 101 n.
Alláḳi, 52, 57.
Alláḳi, mountain of, 52 n.
Almagest, The, 13 and n 1, 24 nn 1 and 2, 43 and n 1, 422.
Almaksam, 47 n.
Almálíḳ, 102.
Almás Beg, 347 and n.
Almeria, 77 and n.
Almoravides, The, 55 n.
Almuñecar, 77 n.
Alp Arslán, 88 n.
Alp Khán, 347 n 2.
Alramni, island of, 54 n.
Altmish, Shamsu'ddín, 342, 344, 345, 363, 367.
Alukak, 103.
Al-Yambụ, 57.
Amállṭu, or Amáṇṭu, 49.
A´mán, Shaykh, 375.
Amanaska, 192 n 4.
Amarkót, 59, 421 n 1.
Amasia, 101 and n.
Amávasa festival, 318.
A´maya, 308 n 1.
Ambálah, 70.
Ambaṣṭha, 115.
Ambaṣṭhas The, 115 n 2.
A´mid, 80, 91 n.
Amín, al, 326 and n 3.
Amír Fatḥu'llah Shírází, 448.
Amír Khusrau, 251 n 1, 252.
Amír Kulál, 358, 359 and n.
Amír Naṣr, 407 n 1.
Amisus, 101 n.
Ammán, 63.
Ammár, 356.
Ammonites, The, 63 n.
Ammúríyyah, 95.
Ammábád, 69.
Amnis lapidum, 77 n.
Amol, 68 n.
Amorium, 95 n.
Amṛita, 286.
Amrití, The, 254.
Amroha, 69 n, 348.
Amul, 84, 85 n.
Anáhata, 245.
Anaiśvarya, 171, 180.
A´nanda, 160.
A´nandiní, 253.
Ananta-darśana, 191.
Ananta-jṅnána, 191.
Ananta-sukha, 191.
Ananta-vírya, 191.
Anárabhyádhíta, 158 n.
Anatolia, 101 n, 110 n 1.
Anavasthitatva, 181.
Anaximander, 37 n 1.
Anbár, 65.
Ancient Chronicle, The, 109 n 1.
Ancient Geography of India, Cunningham's, 58 n, 69 n, 212 n.
Andaghast, 55.
Andaḳ, 359 n 3.
Andaḳí, Khwájah Ḥasan, 359.
Andalusia, 76, 95 n.
Anderáb, 88.
Anderabah, n, 1.
Andes, The, 38 n 2.
Andhakára, 154.
Andhra, 1, 102.
Angas, The, 203, 204 n, 205 n 1, 206 n 1. 224 and n 3.
Anghelion, The, 336 n 1.
Angiras, 310.
Angiras code, The, 221.
Angiyá, 312.
Angora, 70 n, 95 n.
Angúṭhí, 313.
Anhilpúr, 69 n.
Animá, 187.
Aniruddha, 144 n 1, 165 n 3, 169 n, 176 n 1, 177 n.
Aṅnka, 150.
Annesley Bay, 48 n.
Annuyogadváram, The, 205 n 1.
Anquetil, 13 n 3.
Anśa, 249 n.
Anṣárí, Khwájah Abdu'llah, 353.
Anśávatara, 284.
Anṣíná, 56.
Antaḥkaraṇa, 162.
Antakṛiddaśá, The, 204 and n.
Antara-dwípa, 192 n 1.
Antaráya, 202 and n.
Antazakht, 102.
Antimeroöe, 42 n 1, 43 n 2.
Antinoe, 56 n.
Antinous, 56 n.
Antioch, 64 n, 78 n, 90 n.
Antiochus, n.
Anubhava, 138, 139.
Anúdu, islands, 105.
Anugraha, 173 n 4.
Anukúla, 243.
Anumána, 129, 138 n 3, 151, 191.
Anunásika, 223 n 1.
Anupalabdhi, 156.
Anuśayáná, 242.
Anushirwán, 1.
Anusvára, 222, 223 n 1.
Anuttamámbhas-tushṭi, 176.
Anuttara, 194 n.
Anuttaropapáti Kadaśánga, The, 204 and n.
Anvaya-vyatirekin, 144.
Anwár i Suhaylí, The, 341.
Anwaṭ, 314.
Apahasita, 240.
Apamea, 90.
Apána, 149 n, 162.
Apanchíkṛita, 161 and n 1.
Aparájita, 194 n.
Aparatva, 135.
Aparigraha, 184.
A´pastamba, The, 221.
Apavarga, 129, 139.
Apocalypse, The, 33 n 1.
Apollinopolis Parva, 55 n.
Aprajá-pati, 193.
Apúrva, 158 n.
Aquæ Tacapitanæ, The, 71 n.
Arabia, 66 n, 109, 110 and n 1, 120, 124 n, 371, 424.
Arabian Nights, The, 326 n 2.
Arabian Sea, The, 51 n.
Arabs, The, 13 n 3, 29 n 1, 33 n 1, 39 n 2, 43 n 3, 48 n, 52 n, 63 n, 89 n, 109, 124 n, 212, 241, 326 n 5, 385 n 2.
Arachosia, 68 n.
Aral sea, The, 103.
A´rám Sháh, 342,
Araṅnyaka, 289 n 2.
A´raṇyakas, The, 222 n 1.
Aras, 191 and n 3.
Araxes, The, 81 n, 99 n.
Arba, 200.
Arbela, 80 n, 81 n.
Arbúnah, 93.
Archelais, 95 n.
Archimedes, 26 and n 1.
Archons, 328 n 3.
Ardabíl, 81, 82.
Ardeshir-b-Bábak, 67 n, 74 n, 75 n, 337.
Ardeshír Darázdast, 329 n 1.
Ardeshir Khurrah, 74 n.
Ardhabinda, 223
Ardháwaj, The 255.
Ardiya, Mtn. 39 n 1.
Ardshír, 337.
Arghún, 83 n.
Arhas, The, 192 n 1.
Arhat (or Arhant), 188 and n 1.
Arhat (Buddha), 211 n 1.
Arhat doctrines, The, 202 n.
Ariana, 110 n 1.
Ariavarta, 32 n 3, 33.
Arim, inundation of, 79 n.
Arim or Arym, 30 n 1.
Arín or Azín, 29 n 1, 59 n.
Arísh, 63.
Aristarchus, 224 n.
Aristophanes, 11 n 1, 16 n 3.
Aristotle, 12 n 3, 14 n 1, 20, 37 n 1, 106 n 1, 107 n, 126, 143 n 3, 151 n, 161 n, 180 n.
Arjísh, 80.
Arjuna, 227 n 1, 392 n 2.
Armant, 60.
Armenia, 78, 79, 80 and n, 82 n, 95 and n, 100, 110 n 1.
Armenia, Little, 78 n, 95 n.
Armorica, 104 n.
Arphaxad, 375 and n 2.
Arraján, 65 and n, 90 n, 359 n.
Arrán, 81, 83, 95 and n, 96, 99.
Arrian, 78 n, 96 n, 304 n 7, 331 n 1, 332 nn 1 and 2.
Arrow river, The, 304 n 5.
Arsene, 80 n.
A´rsha, 307.
A´rsha marriage, 309 and n 2, 349 n 1.
Artan Kalorán, 102.
Artang or Arzhang, The, 337 and n 1.
Artaxerxes Longimanus, 229 n 1.
Artha, 129 and n 1, 132.
Arthápatti, 138 n 3, 156 and n 4.
Artha-śástra, The, 225.
Arthaváda, 158 n. 219 and n 1.
Arváksrotas, 173 nn 3 and 4.
A´rya, 192 n 1.
Aryabhata, 12 n 2.
Aryan Languages, Comparative Grammar of, 120 n.
Aryans, The, 114 n 1.
A´rya-satya, 214.
Arzan, 79 n, 95 n.
Arzan u'r Rúm, 79 n, 95, 96 n.
Arzandrúm, 96.
Arzanján, 95.
A´ṣ, The, country, 102.
Asadí, 328 and n 1.
Asafi, 61.
Asamaváyi Káraṇa, 143.
Asaṃjña, 197.
Asamprajṅnáta-samádhi, 182, 183.
A´sana, 183, 185.
Asatpratipakshatva, 144 and n 1.
A´śaya, 181 and n 1.
Ascalon, 64 n.
Asfápúr, 96 n.
Asfaras, 94 n.
Ashkbár, Mauláná Muḥyi'ddín, 422.
Ashmúm, 56 n.
Ashmún, 56 n.
Ashraf-i-Ashráf, 428.
Ashráfs, The, 428.
Asht, 102.
Ashṭánga-Yoga, 183.
Ashwatthámá, 159.
Asia, 109 and n 2, 110 and n 1, 123 n 1.
Asia Major, 110 and n 1.
Asia Minor, 78 and n, 90 n, 94, 95, 99 n 100 n, 102 104 n, 110 and n 1, 120 n 1, 124 n, 369 n 1.
Asiatic Researches, The, 11 n 2, 16 n 4 22 n 1, 28 n 2, 36 n 2, 191 n 3, 192 n 1, 304 n 5.
Asḳalání, al, 361 and n, 424 and n 1.
Askar Mukram, 66.
Asmán, 14.
Asmita, 181, 183.
Asnút, 102.
Aśoka, 318 n 3.
Aśokáshtamí festival, 318.
A´śrama, 272.
A´srava, 202 and n 1 and 2, 203.
Assam, 48 n, 121 n 3.
Assouán, 52 n, 53 n, 56 n.
Assyria, 110 n 1, 328 n 2.
Assyrians, The, 328 n 3.
Astarábád, 84 n, 85, 343 n 3, 359 n 3.
Astarte, Syrian Goddess, 79 n.
Asteya, 184.
Astikáya, 201 n 2.
Astrakhan, 96 n, 101 n, 103 n.
Astronomy of the Ancients, Lewis', 16 n 3, 25 n 3, 38 n 1, 39 n 3.
A´sura marriage, 309.
Asuras, The, 193 n 2, 287 n, 306 and n 5, 309 and n 4.
A´suri, 169 n.
A´śva, 286.
Aśvamedha, or horse-sacrifice, 281.
A´tá, 358.
A´tá Yasawí, 358,
Aṭak Benares, 69.
Atala, 32.
Aṭáu'ddín of Bukhára, 367.
Aṭhára Vidyá, The, 218.
Atharvan, 219 n 1.
Atharvaveda, The, 116, 128, 219 and n 1.
Atheníyah, 78.
Athens, 101 n, 328 n 3.
Atihasita, 240 n 4.
Atikránta bhávaníya, 183.
Atkinson, 327 n 1, 330 n.
Atlantic, The, 34 and n 1, 43 n 3, 46, 76.
Atlas du Voyage, Chardin's, 38 n 2.
A´tman, 129, 132, 154, 159, 169, 170 and n 1, 171, 190, 215 and n 2.
Aṭrábulus, 62.
Atri, 117, 310.
Atri, The, 221.
Atrut, 327 n 1.
Aṭṭár, Farídu'ddín, 351 n.
Aṭwál, Kitábu'l, 47 n, 48 n, 50 n, 51 n, 52 n, 53 n, 56 n, 57 n, 59 n, 75 n, 82 n, 84 n, 85 n, 90 n, 91 n, 92 n, 93 n.
A´tyantika dissolution, 165.
Auḍava, 248 and n 2.
Audmiyyah, 90.
Aufat, 47 n.
Augusta Emerita, 76 n.
Augustine, St., 336 n 1.
Augustus, 76 n.
Auján, 81.
Aurṇikakalpa, 208 n 3.
Auśanaśa, The, 220,
Ausáṭ, The, 428.
Avadhi-jṅnána, 190.
Avagraha, 190.
Avah, 84 n.
Avaha, 17.
Avantiká, 305.
A´vantyas, The, 290 n 1.
A´vápa, 158 n.
A´varana-śaktí, 160.
Avasarpiṇi age, The, 188 n 1, 191 n 3.
Avatáras, The, 284, 293.
Aváya, 190.
Avayava, 129, 143, 144 n.
Aves, The, 11 n 1.
Avicenna, 106, 107, 421 n 4.
Avidyá, 140 n 2, 160, 181.
Avienus, 34 n 1, 64 n, 77 n.
Avirága, 171, 180.
Avirati, 181.
Awadh, 59, 305.
A´waj, The, 255, 257
Awál, island of, 58.
Awílah, 60.
Awliyá, 350.
Axum, 47 n.
Ayás, 78, 90.
A´yatanas, The, 214.
Ayesha, 391 n.
Ayodhyá, 117 n 4, 287, 291, 305.
Ayogava, 116.
Ayogavas, 115 n 2.
A´yur-veda, The, 224, 286 n 3.
A´yus, 201.
A´yushka, 202 n.
Azádhwar, 91 n.
Azaḳ, 103 and n.
A´zar, 343 n 1.
Azarbíján, 80 and n, 81 and n, 82, 83 and n, 95 n, 362 n 2.
Azdí, al, 407 n 1.
Azízi, 66 n, 82 n.
Azof, 103 n.
Azof, Sea of, 101.
Azores, The, 33 n 1.
Azrạát of Damascus, 72.
Azráíl, 325 and n 1.
BAAL, 378 n 2.
Baạlbak, 64, 73 n, 278 n 1, 377.
Báb, 358 n 2.
Báb Arslán, 358.
Báb Farghání, 358 n 2.
Bábá Isḥáḳ Maghrabí, 371.
Bábá Kamál Jandí, 356.
Bábá Nizám Abdál, 374.
Bábá Ratn, Shaykh, 360, 361 n.
Bábá Sammásí, 358, 359 and n.
Bábak, 67 n, 74 n, 75 n.
Baber, 16, 98 n, 349.
Bábil, 65.
Bábu'l Abwáb, 95 n, 96.
Bábu'l Ḥadíd, 95, 96 n.
Babylon, 29 n 1, 64 n, 65 n, 120 n 1, 328, 337 n.
Babylonia, 110 n 1.
Bacon, Roger, 30 n 1.
Bacon's Essays, 37 n 1.
Bactria, 42.
Bactriana, 99 n, 110 n 1.
Báḍaghís, 87.
Badajos, 100 n.
Badakshán, The, 88 n, 97.
Badakshán, 88 and n, 89.
Badáon, 345 n 1, 365, 367, 369.
Badáoni, 345 n 1, 360 n 2, 375 n, 440 n 1.
Bádaráyaṇa, 159 n.
Badari-Náráyaṇa, 226, 307 nn 2 and 3.
Bádávard, 314 n 1.
Baddirí, 307.
Baḍgújars, The, 118.
Bádhíta, 144 n 2.
Badhní, Shaykh Ṣúfí, 366.
Bádí, 249 n.
Badri Náth, 307 n 3, 226 n 2.
Badru'ddín Ghaznaví, Shaykh, 364, 368.
Badru'ddín Isḥáḳ, Shaykh, 368.
Badru'ddín Sulaymán, 372.
Baḍwínal, mountain, 28.
Baëza, 100 n.
Báfd, 67.
Bagh, 87 n.
Baghdád, 27, 65 and n, 72 n, 73 n, 75 n, 81 n, 351, 352, 353 and n 1, 354, 356, 357, 362 n 1, 363, 367, 395 n, 407 n 1, 419.
Baghlán, 88 n.
Bághphat, 69.
Baghrah, 70.
Baghrás, 78.
Baghshúr, 87, 352 n 3.
Bagrám, 346.
Bahádur Sháh of Gujarát, 374.
Bahádur, Sulṭán, 251 n 1.
Baháu'ddín Naḳshbandí, Khwájah, 359 n 3, 360.
Baḥḥáth, al, 365.
Bahman, 329, 329, n and n 1, 330, 337.
Bahmanábád, 331 n 1.
Bahnasa, 63.
Bahrám, 62 n.
Bahrám Gor, 62 n, 337, 338 and n 1, 340.
Bahrám Sháh, 341 and n 1.
Baḥrein, 57, 58 and n.
Baḥrein, Gulf of, 58 n.
Baḥrein, Sea of, 58.
Báhú, 313.
Báhudá, The, 304.
Bahu-rúpí, The, 258.
Baibhár, 212 n.
Baiḍá, 74 and n.
Baihaḳ, 85 n.
Baihaḳí, Abu'l Ḳásim al, 85 n.
Baikand, 89 n, 97.
Bailaḳán, 96.
Bairáth, 33,
Baisán, 64, 325 n 1.
Baisar, 75 n.
Baitu'l Muḳaddas, 63.
Bajnah, 104.
Bákharz, 367 n 1.
Bákharzí, Shaykh Sayfu'ddín, 356, 367.
Bakhtyár Khilji, 345 n 3.
Bakíl, 53.
Bakíl, clan of, 53 n.
Báḳir, Muhammad al, 359 n 4, 360.
Baḳḳál, Khwájah Ḥasan Sháh, 422.
Baḳḳáls, The, 118.
Baḳḳam, 48 and n.
Bakshí, Nizámu'ddín, 362 n 3.
Bakshú, 251 and n 1.
Baku, 96 n.
Balad, 80 n.
Baladevas, The, 197, 198 n.
Balahbad, 81 n.
Balanjar, 101, 102.
Balansia, 90.
Balaráma, 165 n 3.
Balásághún, 88.
Balasgoun, 88 n.
Balban, Ghiyáṣu'ddín, 342, 346 and n 1.
Bálí, 313.
Bali, 159 and n, 289 and n, 320 and n 2.
Baliá, 397.
Balínás, 335.
Balirájya festival, 320.
Balísá, 397 n 2.
Balḳá, 63.
Balkh, 3, 43 n 3, 87 n, 88 and n, 93 n, 329 n, 349, 352, 357, 361 n 1, 370.
Ballantyne, Dr., 136 n, 139 n 2, 178 and n 3.
Balnán, 73.
Balraghdámis, 77.
Baluchistan, 68 n, 119.
Báluka-prabhá, 195 n 3.
Balyán, 375.
Balzam, 73.
Bam, 67, 73.
Bambyce, 79 n.
Bámián, 88.
Bámiín, 87 n.
Banákati, 1, 212.
Báṇárasi, 188 n 1.
Banát u'n Naạsh, 39.
Banbalunah, 101.
Bandha, 173, 202 and n 2.
Bandnah, Fort of, 69.
Banerjea, Dr., 169 n, 217 n 1.
Banerjea's Dialogues, 151 n.
Bánganga, The, 304.
Bangash, 70 and n.
Bangula, 252.
Bani Kailah, 64 n.
Bani'l Marák, 64 n.
Bani Najah, The, 53 n.
Bani Tamím, 88 n.
Banik Vaiśyas, 118.
Baniki, 91 n.
Banjhír, 89.
Ban-mánus, The, 120.
Bápu Deva, 19 n 3, 21 n, 36 n 2.
Baradán, 65.
Bárahi fish, 296, 297 n.
Barakah, 103 and n.
Bárám, 60.
Baran, 69.
Barbara, 144 n.
Barbary, 110.
Barbera, 48.
Barbier de Meynard, 61 n.
Bárbud, 314 n 1.
Barcelona, 93 n.
Bardah, 95 and n.
Bardashír 67 n.
Bardsír, 67.
Barghademá, 77 n.
Bári, 251.
Barísa, 49 and n.
Barkadír, 87 n.
Barkah, 62 and n.
Barḳányah, 104.
Barḳí, Khwájah Abdu'llah, 359.
Barkiarok, 343 n 1.
Barni, 347 nn 2 and 3, 348 n 1.
Baronius, 336 n 1.
Barrow, Mr. Reuben, 19 nn 1 and 4, 27 nn 1, 2 and 3.
Bars Birt, 78.
Barth, Mr., 177 n 1, 185 n, 188 n 1, 189 n.
Bárúsí, Salm-b-Ḥusayn, 351.
Barzawaih, 1.
Barzú, 330.
Basá of Fárs, 73.
Basásírí, al, 73 n.
Baṣrah, 59 n, 60 n, 64 n, 65 and n, 82 n, 351, 355 n 1, 357.
Bassein, 53 n.
Bast, 68 n.
Básyán, 90 n.
Batavia, 119 n 1.
Bath, Adelard de, 30 n 1.
Báṭik, 103.
Baṭn Marrah, 60 and n.
Baṭwah, 372.
Baudháyana, The, 221.
Baun, 87 n.
Báward, 357.
Baya, The, 122.
Báyab, 110.
Báyazíd Bisṭámí, 359.
Bayley's Hist. of Gujarát, 251 n 1.
Bayrám Khán, 397 and n 3, 425 n 2.
Bayrút, 78.
Bayẓá, 354.
Bázíkar, The, 258.
Bázúband, 313.
Beale, 352 n 3, 353 n, 355 n 1, 364 n 1, 369 n 4, 407 n 1.
Beames, Mr., 120 n.
Bear, The, 39 n 2.
Behár, 120 n, 211, 303 n 3, 370.
Beja, 49 and n, 50 n, 52 n, 62 n, 94 n.
Belazuri, 77 n.
Beled el Jaríd, 72 n.
Benares, 3, 59, 211, 304, 305 and n 4.
Bengal, 59, 119 and n 1, 120, 121 n 2, 122 n 1, 252, 324, 328, 345 and n 3, 365 and n 1, 366, 425 n 2.
Bengali, 120 n.
Bentley, 11 n 2.
Benu Rustam, The, 62 n.
Berber country, The, 49, 50 n.
Berbers, The, 110.
Berkeley, 167 n, 170 n 3.
Berlin, 24 n 2.
Bersabee, 378 n 1.
Besa, 56 n.
Bésar, 313.
Beth San, 64 n.
Beth Shemesh, 74 n.
Bhadráśva, 31 n 1.
Bhadráśva-khaṇḍa, 31.
Bhadrávatí, 285.
Bhága, 146.
Bhagatiya, The, 257.
Bhagavad Gítá, The, 170 n 1, 178 n, 218 n, 227 n 1.
Bhágavat, 165 n 3.
Bhagavat (Buddha), 211 n 1.
Bhágavata, The, 288 n 1, 289 n 1.
Bhágavata Puráṇa, The, 220 and n 4.
Bhágavata Upa-puráṇa, The, 220.
Bhágavati, The, 202 n 1, 206 and n 1.
Bhagavatyánga, The, 204 and n.
Bhagel-Khaṇḍ, 290 n 1.
Bhágvata sect, The, 165 n 3.
Bhágya-tushṭi, 176.
Bhairava, 250 n 5.
Bhairava, 249, 250.
Bhájaka, 25.
Bhánḍ, The, 257.
Bháṅnk, 313.
Bhanú, 251 and n 1.
Bhaṅnvayya, The, 257.
Bharadvája, 289 and n 1, 310 and n 2.
Bhárata, 30, 192 n 1, 294 n 1.
Bharata, Rájá, 197.
Bharata-Kánḍa, 192 n 1.
Bhárata-khaṇḍa, 30, 31, 32.
Bhárgava Puráṇa, The, 220 n 4.
Bháshá Parichcheda, The, 132 n 2, 135 n 2, 143 n 1, 151 n 2.
Bháshya, 149.
Bháṭis, The, 118.
Bhaṭṭa, 152 n 1, 153, 154, 155, 156, 159.
Bhava-bhúti, 241 n 1.
Bhavana-pati, 193, 198, 199.
Bhávaná Sanskára, 135 n 2, 136, 138, 140.
Bhávaní, 253.
Bhavapratyaya, 183.
Bhavishya-parvan, The, 230 n 2.
Bhavishya Puráṇa, The, 220, 321 n 2.
Bhaya, 302.
Bhayánaka, 241.
Bheda, 160.
Bherab, 69.
Bhikshu, The, 212 and n 3, 214 n 1, 216 n 1.
Bhikshuka, The, 210 n 1.
Bhílsa, 59.
Bhíma, 217 n 1, 319 n.
Bhíma, The, 304.
Bhímaikádaśí festival, 319 n.
Bhímarathi, The, 304.
Bhoja, 135 n 2.
Bhránti-darśana, 181.
Bhṛigu, 220 n 4, 225 n 1.
Bhugwan, 251 n 1.
Bhúmah, 70.
Bhúmi, 179.
Bhúr, 164 n 2.
Bhúr-loka, 32.
Bhúta, 173 n 4.
Bhútadi ahankára, 171.
Bhútas, The, 193 n 2.
Bhúta-vidya, 225 n
Bhúvágu, 17.
Bhuvar, 164 n 2.
Biáh, The, 303, 345.
Biánah, 427 n 3.
Bibhatsa, 241.
Bible, references to the, 63 n, 64 n, 72 n, 74 n, 79 n, 90 n, 375 n 2, 378 n 1.
Bichhwah, 313.
Biḍálaka Brahmans, 116, 117 and n 1.
Biddyá-pat, 252.
Bidlís, 95 n.
Bigandet, Bishop, 211 nn 1 and 2.
Bihat, The, 303.
Bíjah, 62.
Bijáyah, 90.
Biḳáạ, al, 64 n.
Bikramájít, 251 n 1.
Bilora, 196 n 1.
Bímánshahr, 83.
Bindulí, 312.
Bipal, 16.
Birkat Yásin, 103 n.
Bírpúr, 373, 374.
Bírún, 58.
Biserta, 94 n.
Bishn-pad songs, 252 and n.
Bishr al Ḥáfí, 353, 356.
Bishútan, 449 n 2.
Biskarah, 59, 61, 62 n.
Bisṭám, 85 and n, 352, 359 n 3.
Biswah, 125.
Biṭánah, 67 n.
Biyár, 85.
Bíza, 101.
Black sea, The, 70 n.
Blochmann, 251 n 1, 252 n, 313 n 2, 314 n 2, 375 n, 421 n 1, 423 n 2, 427 nn 2 and 3, 442 n 1, 447 n 3, 449 n 1.
Blundevile's Exercises, 37 n 1.
Blyth, Mr., 122 n 2.
Bochart, 109 n 1.
Bodhi-sattva, 211 n 1.
Boissier, 123 n 1.
Bolgár-aljadíd, 103 n.
Bologna, 38 n 2.
Bombay, 51 n.
Bona, 77 n, 94 n.
Bone, 62 n.
Bór, 104.
Bordeaux, 101 n.
Borjans, The, 101 n.
Borneo, 48 n.
Borshán, 101, 102.
Borysthenes, The, 94 n, 102 n.
Bosporus, The, 94 n.
Bost, 68 n.
Bougie, 90 n.
Brahmá, 8, 10 n 2, 11 and n 1, 113, 114, 117, 128, 146, 147 and nn 1 and 2, 148 and n 2, 149, 151 n, 153, 155 n 2, 160, 161, 163 n 1, 164 n 2, 165 and n 1, 166 n 1, 168 n 1, 170 n 1, 172 and nn 1 and 3, 173 nn 1 and 4, 174 n 4, 185 n, 211 n 2, 219, 220, 227 n 2, 231 n 3, 245, 282, 287, 288, 289, 291 and n 2, 292, 303, 306 n 5, 307 n 2.
Brahma Puráṇa, The, 220.
Brahmachárin, 226 n 1.
Brahmachárin, 275.
Brahmacharya, The, 210 n 1.
Brahma-charya, 272, 275.
Brahmacharya (continence), 184.
Brahma Granthi, 245 n 1.
Brahmagupta, 17 n 2, 23, 25 nn 2 and 8 28 n 2.
Brahman, 160, 184 n.
Brahmaṇa, 114.
Brahmaṇa Sarvasva, The, 274 n 1.
Brahmans, The, 8, 115, 116 and n 4, 127, 157 n 1, 174, 189 n, 208 n 1, 210 and n 1, 212, 217 n 1, 218, 222 n 1, 225, 226, 228, 229 and n 1, 230, 231, 238 n 3, 239, 262, 264, 266, 267, 268, 269, 270, 271 and n 1, 272 and n 1, 273, 275, 276, 277, 279, 283, 284, 294 n 3, 296, 297 and n 2, 298, 300, 301, 302 and n 4, 308, 309 and nn 3 and 4, 310 and n 2, 316 and n 1, 319 and n 2, 320 n 3, 321, 323, 324, 330, 331, 331, n and n 1, 332, 334, 336, 338.
Brahmánḍ, The, or Egg of Brahmá, 11 and n 1.
Brahmáṇḍa-dána, 282.
Brahmáṇḍa Puráṇa, The, 220.
Brahmáṇḍa Upa-puráṇa, The, 220.
Brahmaputra, The, 303 n 3.
Brahmarshi, 32 n 3, 33.
Brahmá Sanatkumára, 194 n.
Brahma-vaivarta Puráṇa, The, 220.
Brahmávarta, 32 n 3, 33, 286.
Bráhmya, 172.
Bráhmya marriage, 307.
Brajbihár, 252 n.
Bretagne, 105 n.
Briggs, 345 n 1, 346 nn 3 and 4, 347 n, 348 nn 1 and 2, 362 n 3.
Bṛihaspati, 218 n 1.
Britain, Great, 105.
Britain, Lesser, 105.
Brittany, 104 n.
Broach, 52 n, 59, 289 n.
Brothers, The, 57 n.
Brusa, 100 n.
Buchanan, Dr., 192 n 1.
Budan, Islands of, 104.
Budha, 117.
Buddha, 152 n 1, 169 n, 177 n 1, 178 n, 188 n 1, 189 n, 197 n 1, 205 n 2, 211 and nn 1 and 2, 212 n and nn 1 and 2, 213 n 1, 214 n 1, 216 n 1, 292 and n 1.
Buddhávatára, The, 292.
Buddhi, 129, 135, 138 and n 2, 139 n 1, 140 n 1, 162, 163, 170, 171, 178 n 3.
Buddhism, 152 n 1, 168 n 1, 188 n 1, 200 n 7, 211, 214 n 3.
Buddhist Synod, The first, 212 n.
Buddhists, The, 133 n 2, 151 n, 169 n, 178 n 3, 188 n 1, 189 n, 202 n, 205 n 2, 211 n 2, 213 n 1, 215 n 2, 216 and n 1, 269 n 1, 293, 305 n 4, 337 n 1.
Bugie, 62 n.
Bukhárá, 54 n, 92 n, 97 and n, 357, 358 n 3, 359 nn 2 and 3, 361 n 1, 367, 368, 374, 420.
Bukhárí, Sayyid Maḥmúd, 369.
Bukka Ráya, 189 n.
Bulár, 103 and n.
Buldarah, 50.
Bulgaria, 102.
Bulgarians, The, 101 n.
Bulghár, 103 and n, 104.
Búrán, 65 n.
Burdál, 101.
Burgess, Dr., 19 n 3, 52 n.
Burghangá, The, 287 n 2.
Burhán-i-Ḳáṭi', The, 89 n, 104 n, 342 n 4.
Burhánpúr, 304.
Burhi Rapti, The, 304 n 5.
Burmans, The, 292 n 1.
Burnell, 32 n 3, 115 nn 1 and 2, 116 n 1, 261, 295 n 1, 309 nn 1 and 2.
Burnouf, 169 n, 202 n.
Burújird, 83.
Bushang, 87.
Bust, 68 and n.
Buwaih, Aḍhudu'd Dawlah, 25 n 1, 74 n.
Buwayh, House of, 25 n 1, 407 and n 1.
Buwayh, the Daylamite, 407 n 1.
Buzanṭya, 101.
Buzján, 86.
Buzurj-Mihr, 1, 340 n.
Burzúyah, 338 and n 2, 339 and n 1.
Byásam, diameter, 25.
Byjoo, 251 n 1.
Bythinia, 100 n.
CABES, 71 n.
Cabes, Gulf of, 61 n, 71 n.
Cabra, 100 n.
Cadesia, 72 n.
Cadiz, Isle of, 93.
Cæsarea, 63 n, 95 n.
Cæsarea Phillipi, 78 n.
Cæsarion, 60 n.
Caggar, The, 33 n.
Cairo, 61 n, 62 n, 63 n, 74 n, 424.
Caiyon, 98 n.
Calanus, 332 n 2.
Calcutta, 123 n 1.
Calcutta Museum, The, 211 n 2.
Calcutta Review, The, 246 n, 249 n.
Cambalu, 52 n.
Cambay, 59.
Cambridge, 409 n 2.
Camestres, 144 n.
Camp of Mukram, 66 n.
Canarese Language, The, 189 n.
Canaria, 33 n 1.
Canary Islands, The, 33 n 1, 53 n.
Cancadora, 29 n 1.
Canon, Alfazárí's, 105 n 1.
Canon, Avicenna's, 422 n.
Canopus, 39 n 2.
Canterbery Tales, The, 107 n.
Cape de Verde, The, 33 n 1.
Cape Raptum 43 n 2.
Cappadocia, Kings of, 95 n.
Capricornus, 13 n 3.
Caracalla, 56 n.
Carey, 248 n 3.
Carmania, 78 n.
Carmel, Mount, 378 n 1.
Carnatic, The, 252.
Carthage, 328 n 3.
Caryate Jews, 103 n.
Caspian, The, 83 n, 86 n, 96 and n, 103, 353 n 3.
Castile, 100 n.
Categories of the Nyáya, The, 132 n 2, 135 n 2, 150 n 1.
Caucasus, The, 96 n, 101 n.
Caussin de Perceval, 73 n.
Central India, 290 n 1.
Ceuta, 76 n.
Ceylon, 7, 48 and n, 54 n, 214 n 3, 216 n 1, 325.
Chádir Dágh, 103 n.
Chahat, 70.
Chaitya, 215.
Chakravartís, The, 197, 198 n.
Chalcedon, 78 n.
Chaldæans, The, 13 n 3.
Chaldi, 347 n 1.
Chamárs, The, 316 n 1.
Champakalí, 313.
Chandáls, The, 294, 295, 302.
Chaṇḍála, 116.
Chánḍála Brahmans, 116, 117.
Chandas, 224 and n 2.
Chandérí, 365.
Chandniwaṭ, 69.
Chandrabhága, The, 303.
Chandra-maṇi, 286.
Chandra-náḍi, 233 and n 1, 234, 235, 236, 237.
Chandráwats, The, 118.
Chándráyaṇa fast, The, 227 and n 3, 228, 231, 278, 299,
Changíz Khán, 343, 344 and n 4, 345, 346, 348.
Charama Tírthakṛit, 188 n 1.
Charaṇa, 187 and n 4.
Chardin, 38 n 2.
Charmanvatí, The, 304.
Charm-kár, The, 315 and n 2.
Chartháwal, 70.
Chárváka, 217 and n 1.
Cháṭak, The, 121 n 5.
Cḥattá 116.
Chatur-aṇuka, 148.
Chaturdaśa festival, 318.
Chaturdaśí festival, 318.
Chaturthí festival, 318.
Chaucer, 107 n.
Chaudah-púrvánga, The, 205.
Chauháns, The, 118.
Chaupar, 300 and n 2.
Chedda-grantha, The, 205.
Chedda-Sútras, The, 205 and n 1.
Chem, 55 n.
Chemnis, 55 n.
Chenáb, The, 303.
Chenery's al Ḥarírí, 50 n, 57 n.
Chhala, 129, 146.
Chhand Songs, 252 and n 2.
Chhandas, 253 n 2.
Chhudr-Khanṭiká, 313.
Chikírsha, 149.
Childers, 214 n 3.
Chín, 7 n 1.
China, 7, 48 n, 49 and n, 52 and n, 60, 73 and n, 92 n, 98 and n, 102, 109, 110 and n 1, 216 n 1, 327 n 1, 328, 336 n 1, 337,
Chind, 252.
Chinese, The, 108, 292 n 1.
Chinnapattanam, 60 and n.
Chirágh i Dihlí, 365, 368, 369, 372.
Chisht, 357.
Chisht family, The, 369, 370.
Chishtí, Khwájah Mụínu'ddín Ḥasan, 361.
Chishtí, Khwájah Othmán, 361.
Chishtí order, The, 354, 422.
Chitor, 347.
Chitriṇi, 243.
Chitta, 162, 163, 178 and n 3, 215 n 2.
Chittagong, 121 n 3.
Chrest. Arab., De Sacy's, 47 n, 62 n, 91 n.
Christians, The, 127.
Chronology of Pathan Kings, 369 n 4.
Chronology, Albírúní's, 17 n 2, 19 n 2, 22 n 2, 40 n 1.
Chulí Maheswar, 290 n 1.
Chúṛ, 313.
Chúrá, 313.
Chúṛíṅn, 313 and n 4.
Chuṭkala, 252 and n.
Cicero, 322 n 4.
Cilicia, 94 n.
Cintra, 100 n.
Circesium, 79 n.
City of brass, 99 n.
Clarke, Mr. C. D., 246 n.
Class., Dict. of Hind. Myth., 159 n.
Cleopatra, 60 n.
Clepsydra, The, 16 and n 3.
Climate, 43 and n 2, 44.
Clysma, 53 n.
Cœlesyria, 64 n.
Cœur de Lion, 347 n 2.
Coft, 60 n.
Colchis, 110 n 1.
Colebrooke, 1 n 2, 129 nn 1 and 2, 133 n 3, 134 n, 135 n, 137 n 1, 138 n 4, 139 nn 1 and 2, 151 n, 152 n 1, 156 n 3, 161 n 2, 163 n, 165 n 3, 168 n 1, 169 n and n 1, 170 n 1, 2 and 3, 171 n 1, 174 n, 175 nn 2 and 4, 176 n 2, 178 n 2, 179 n 1, 188 n 1, 189 n, 192 n and n 1, 193 n 1, 195 nn 1 and 3, 197 n 3, 201 n and nn 1 and 4, 202 n and n 2, 210 n 2, 214 n 3, 215 n 2, 217 n 1, 219 n 1, 221 n 1.
Colebrooke's Essays, 129 n 2, 135 n, 151 n, 153 n, 159 n, 188 n 1, 195 n 3, 212 n 1.
Coleridge, 167 n.
Columbine ginger, 51 n.
Commagene, 95 n.
Comorin, Cape, 48 n.
Conjevaram, 305.
Constantine, 56 n, 62 n.
Constantine, Province of, 50 n, 77 n.
Constantinople, 70 n, 78 n, 95, 101 and n.
Cooley, Mr., 47 n, 55 n.
Copts, The, 56 n, 110.
Coracesium, 94 n.
Cordova, 76 n, 102.
Corea, The, 49 n, 98 n.
Coromandel, The, 51 n, 239 n 1, 284 n 1.
Cosmos, Humboldt's, 15 n 1, 22 n 3, 24 nn 1 and 2, 29 n 1, 37 n 1, 38 nn 2 and 3.
Cossacks, The, 102 n.
Cowell, Prof., 133 n 3, 139 n 2, 153, 158 n, 159 n, 169 n 1, 212 n 1, 214 n 3, 217 n 1, 219 n 1.
Cow's meat prohibited, 294 n 1.
Cremona, 30 n 1.
Crete, 77 n.
Crimea, 101 n, 102 n, 103 and n, 104 n.
Crusades, The, 396 n 1.
Csoma's Tibetan Grammar, 212 n 1.
C??esiphon, 65 n, 96 n, 326 n 5.
Cunningham, General, 212 n, 331 n 1.
Cunningham's Anc. Geog., 58 n, 212 n,
Cupola of the earth, 104.
Cust's Modern Languages of Africa, 53 n.
Cutch, 68 n.
Cyprus, 77 n.
Cyrenaica, Mountains of, 62 n.
Cyrene, 62 n.
Cyrus, 330, 411 n 1, 423 n 2.
DA´BA, 229 and n 1.
Dábha grass, 300 and n 1.
Dabíl, 82 n.
Dábilishím, 326 n 4.
Dabistán, 337 nn 1.
Daf, The, 255 and n 7, 256, 257.
Dafzan, The, 257.
Daghestán, 101 n.
Ḍahabí, aḍ, 361 n.
Dahlak, Island of, 50.
Dahna, 75 n.
Daibal, 58.
Dailam, 84 and n.
Dailamán, 84.
Dainandina, dissolution, 164.
” pralaya, 165 n 1.
Dainawar, 82, 396 n 1.
Daityas, The, 11, 159 n, 287, 288, 289 290, 292, 306, 320 n 2.
Daiva marriage, 308, 309 n 1.
Daivata, The, 224 n.
Dakkhin, 110.
Daksha, 227 n 2, 238 n 3.
Daksha smṛiti, The, 221.
Dakshiṇa, 113.
Dakshina, 173.
Dakskiṇa lover, 243.
Dalman, 59.
Daloo, 251 n 1.
Dalúkah, Queen, 55 n.
Ḍamár, 50, 53 n.
Dámaghán, 84.
Damascus, 56 n, 64, 72 and n, 73 n, 90 n, 354.
Damietta, 63 n, 421 n 3.
Damindán, 74.
Damírí, ad, 391 n.
Dána, or Alms giving, 282.
Dána-siddhi, 176.
Ḍanḍiyá, 312.
Dandamis, 332 n and n 1.
Dandánḳán, 87.
Daṇḍa-vat prostration, 280.
Daniel, The prophet, 377 n 1.
Danube, The, 102 n.
Dánya, 93.
Dányál, Aḥmad, 365.
Daoutmour Khán, 345 n 1.
Dár Safed, 74 n.
Dárá, 73, 75 n.
Dáráb, 67 n.
Dárábjird, 67, 423 n 2.
Darah, 54 n, 55, 71 n.
Dạrah, The, 55 n.
Darband, 83 n, 95 n, 96 n, 98 n, 101 and n, 377 n 1.
Daren Mts., The, 70 n.
Darghán, 97.
Darius, 67 n, 78 n.
Darius Hystaspes, 328 n 4.
Darḳalah, 49.
Darráj, Abú Ḥusayn, 354.
Darsána-varaṇíya, 201, 202 n.
Darzindán, 96 n.
Daśa-hara (Dusserah), 318 and n 6, 319.
Daśamí festival, 318.
Daśaratha, Rájá, 291.
Dasht, 84 and n.
Daskarah, 75, 362 n 1.
Dáthavanisa, The, 168 n 1.
Dáúd Khán, 347 n.
Dáúd Ṭáí, 356.
Daulatábád, 59.
Dauráḳ, 66 n, 90.
David, 63 n.
Davies, 159 n, 160 n 2, 168 n 1, 169 n 3, 170 n 1, 171 n 1, 178 n 1, 227 n 1.
Davies' Hindu Philosophy, 129 n 1, 132 nn 1 and 2, 133 nn 1 and 2, 134 n 2, 136 n 2, 138 nn 2 and 3, 139 n 1, 140 n 1, 141 n 1, 142 n 2, 143 n 2, 148 n 1, 149 n, 151 n, 152 n 1.
Davis, Samuel, 36 n 2.
Dawwán, 422 n 1.
Day, Captain, 246 n, 250 n 18, 253 n, 254 n and n 2, 255 nn 1, 2, 5 and 7, 256 n 3.
Day's Fishes of India, 296 n 4.
Daybul, 52 n.
De Guignes, 88 n, 96 n, 343 n 3, 344 nn 4 and 5, 345 n 1, 346 n 4.
De Reb. Indicis, 52 n, 77 n.
De Sacy, 39 n 2, 47 n, 62 n, 91 n, 341 n 1, 350 n 2.
De Slane, 68 n, 80 n, 96 n, 100 n, 101 n.
Debal, 58 n.
Decapolis, The, 64 n.
Deccan, The, 32 n 3, 189 n. See also Dekhan, The.
Decline and Fall, Gibbon's, 65 n.
Defhna, 69.
Dekhan, The, 250, 251 n 1, 252, 258, 284, 304, 305, 365, 372.
Delhi, 69, 119, 200, 251 n 1, 252, 257, 322 n 4, 342, 344, 345, 347, 348, 349, 361 n, 362, 363, 364, 365 and n 1, 366, 367, 368, 369, 370, 371, 372, 373, 374, 375, 425 n 2, 426 n 2, 440.
Delphi, 36 n 2.
Demavend, 84 n.
Denia, 93 n, 100 n.
Deoband, 70.
Deogír, 59.
Deoras, The, 118.
Dera Gházi Khán, 69.
Derbend, 83 n.
Deśa, 200.
Deśakára, 250.
Deśi Songs, 251.
Desubah, 69.
Deucalion, deluge of, 94 n.
Devs, The, 327 n 1.
Dev Mahal, 366.
Devas The, 308.
Deva Brahmans, 116.
Deva holy places, 303.
Deva-pújá, 277.
Devakí, 292.
Devatá, 172.
Devatás, The, 11, 115, 193, 198, 199, 227, 306.
Devatideva, 211 n 1.
Devband, 327 and n 1.
Deví, 319 n.
Deví Bhágavata, The, 220 n 4.
Deviká (Deva), The, 304.
Ḍhaḍḍa, The, 255, 256.
Ḍháḍhí women, 257.
Dhádhís, The, 256.
Dhafar, 48 n, 54 n.
Ḍhafar, 50 n, 51.
Dhaivata, 247, 249.
Dhanur-veda, 225.
Dhanvantari, 286 and n 3.
Dhár, 365.
Dhara-dána, 283.
Dháraṇa, 183, 186, 190.
Dharma, 136 and n 2, 141, 180, 201 nn 2 and 4, 202 and 2, 264.
Dharma ´Sástra, 220, 221 n 1.
Dharmadhvaja, 208 and n 4.
Dharmástikáya, 201.
Dharma lábha, 207.
Dhársú, 375.
Dhátu'l Ḳuṣúr, 80 n.
Dhenu, 282 n 2.
D'Herbelot, 7 n 1, 20 n 2, 25 n 1, 52 n, 54 n, 55 n, 82 n, 83 n, 92 n, 106 n 1, 325 n 1, 336 n 1, 342 n 2, 343 nn 1 and 3, 345 n, 348 n 2, 349 n, 375 n 2, 377 n 1, 407 n 1.
Dhírá, 242.
Dhírá Adhírá, 242.
Ḍhöl, The, 255 n 6.
Dhoondhee, 251 n 1.
Dhṛishta, 244.
Dhruva, 252 and n.
Dhúmá-prabhá, 195 n 3.
Dhurpad, The, 251 and n 2, 256, 257.
Dhvani, sound, 150.
Dhvani, a figurative style, 240 n 2.
Dhyána, 183, 186 and n 1.
Dialogues, Plato's, 11 n 1.
Diana, 93 n.
Dict. de la Perse, 61 n, 66 n, 68 n, 81 n, 82 n, 83 n, 85 n, 86 n, 87 n, 95 n.
Dict. of Antiquities, Smith's, 43 n 2, 46 n 1.
Dict. of Hindu Mythology, 10 n 2, 113 n 2.
Dídím, 332 and n 1, 334.
Dido, 328 n 3.
Digambaras, The, 195 n 3, 210 and n 1.
Dig-pála, 113.
Dikpálas, 193 n 2.
Dínawar, 82 n, 396 n 1.
Diocletian, 63 n.
Diodorus, 331 n 1, 332 n 2.
Dípaka, 250 and n 17.
Dípálí, 306 n 2, 320.
Dípálpúr, 346.
Dípani, 253.
Dírgha, 135 and n 1, 223.
Díś, 132, 133.
Diśá, 113.
Diti, 148 n 3, 287 n 1.
Diwáli festival, The, 306 and n 2, 320 and nn 3 and 4.
Diyár Bakr, 79 and n, 80 and n, 90, 91 n.
Diyár Muḍhar, 79 and n.
Diyár Rabíạh, 75 n, 79 and n, 80, 91 n.
Dnieper, The, 77 n, 94 n, 104 n.
Dniester, The, 102 n.
D'Ohsson, 100 n, 344 n 2, 345 n 1, 348 n 1.
Doliche, 91 n.
Dolúk, fortres of, 91 n.
Dominicus Cassini, 38 n 2.
Don, The, 94 n, 103 n.
Dongola, 47 n, 49 and n.
Donne, 55 n.
Dorálah, 70.
Doshc, 129, 139.
Dowson, 10 n 2, 113 n 2, 114 n 2, 116 n 4, 117 n 4, 149 n 2, 159 n.
Dozy, Suppl. Dict. Arab., 67 n.
Dravatva, 135.
Dráviḍá, 284.
Dravya, 132 and n 2, 151.
Dṛik, 159.
Dṛiśadvatí, The, 32 n 3, 33, 286 n 5.
Drishṭánta, 129, 143.
Dṛishtiváda, The, 204 n.
Dṛiśya, 159.
Dryden, 390 n 1.
Duá Khán, 347 n and n 1.
Dúbán, 326 and n 2, 327.
Dubays al Asadí, 64 n, 350 n 2.
Ducam, 59.
Duḥkha, 129, 135, 139, 141.
Duhul, The, 255, 257, 258.
Dumbáwand, 84.
Dumbáwand Mtn., 74 n.
Ḍúṅnḍhaní, 313.
Dunḳulah, 49.
Ḍurbachh, 312.
Durga, 277, 318, 319 n.
Durvásana, The, 220.
Dúta, 244.
Dúti, 244.
Dváraká, 304 and n 3, 306.
Dvesha, 135, 139, 141, 181, 302.
Dvi-ja, 116 n 4.
Dvi-ja Brahmans, 116.
Dvy-aṇuka, 148.
Dwápara Yuga, 147 n 1, 159 n, 174 n 4.
Dyálah, 65 n.
Dyke of the Himyarites, 50 n.
EASTERN Sea, The, 49.
Eastwick, 341 n 1.
Ebusas Island, 77 n.
Edrísi, 49 n, 54 n, 56 n, 60 n.
Egypt, 62, 63 and n, 73 n, 74, 75 and n, 109, 110, 113 n 2, 124 n, 328 n 3, 352, 353 and n, 424, 426 n 2.
Egyptian Sea, The, 58, 62.
Egyptians, The, 13 n 3, 53 n.
Ekágra, 179.
Eleazar, 377.
Elements, The, 12, 17 n 1, 130 n 1, 132. 161.
Elements, Euclid's, 24.
El Hammat el Khabs, 71 n.
Elias, The Prophet, 375, 377, 378 and n 1.
Eliseus, 378 and n 1.
Elizabeth, Queen, 363 n.
Elliot, Sir H., 326 n 1, 343 n 2, 344 nn 345 nn 1 and 2, 346 nn 1 and 2, 347 nn 1 and 2, 348 nn 1 and 2.
Elliot's Bibl. Indica, 349 n.
Elphinstone, 340 nn 1 and 2, 346 n 2, 437 n, 363 n, 421 n 1.
El Shehr, 48 n, 51 n.
Elysian fields, The, 33 n 1.
Emerald mine, 56.
Emesa, 80 n. 90 n.
Emir Sháh Muḥd-b-Ṭáhir, 27 n 3.
Empedocles, 37 n 1, 148 n 3.
Ennius, 113 n 2.
Enseneh, 56 n.
Eolus, 113 n 2.
Ephesus, 100 n.
Ephthalites, The, 88 n.
Epiphaneia, 90 n.
Equator, The, 46.
Era, The Divine, 416 n 1.
Erannoboas, The, 304 n 7.
Eratosthenes, 25 n 3.
Erbil, 80 n.
Erdmann, 103 n.
Erek, 90 n.
Erekle, 101 n.
Erment, 60 n.
Erzeroum, 79 n, 95 n.
Eshmoum, 71 n.
Eski Kirym, 103 n.
Esneh, 55 n.
Essai sur l'hist. des Arabes, 73 n.
Etah district, 287 n 2.
Etáwah, 59.
Eternal Islands, The, 33 and n 1, 34, 41.
Eternal Wisdom, The, 325 and n 2, 326.
Ether, 12 and n 3.
Ethiopeans, The, 107.
Euclid, 24.
Eudoxus, 39 n 3.
Euphrates, The, 64, 65 n, 79 n, 80, 89 n, 91, 95 n.
Europe, 109 and n 2, 124 n, 134 n 1, 326 n 4.
Europeans, The, 42.
Eusebius, 72 n.
Euxine, The, 94 n, 110 n 1, 102, 104.
Euz, a Turkish tribe, 342 n 1.
Eve, 325 and n 1.
FABLES of Pilpay, 326 n 4.
Fabricius, 109 n 1.
Faḍhl-b-Sahl, 326 and n 3, 327.
Fa-Hian, 212 n.
Faid, 57 and n.
Faizí, Shaykh Abu'l Faiz, 410 n 3, 411 and n 4, 412, 431 and n 1, 445.
Fakhru'ddín 'Iráḳí, Shaykh, 363, 364.
Fakhru'ddín Náfilah, Maulána, 369.
Falak, 14 n 1.
Famu'ṣ Ṣilḥ, 65, 90 n.
Fámyah, 78 n, 90.
Fáráb, 102.
Fárabr, 92.
Faramarz, 329, 330.
Farghánah, 97 n, 98 and n, 358 n 2, 363.
Fárhán, 89.
Farídu'ddín Ganj-i-Shakkar, Shaykh, 363, 364, 365, 367, 370, 372.
Farídún, 89 n, 109, 329.
Fáristán, 66 n.
Farjistan, 92.
Fármid, 359 n 3.
Fármiḍí, Shaykh Abú Alí, 359.
Farmul, 69.
Fármyáb, 92.
Farrah, 373.
Farrukh Sháh Kábulí, 363.
Farrukhzád-b-Masạúd, 341.
Fárs, 66 n, 67 and n, 73, 74.
Farsakh, 18 n 1, 25.
Fartanah, 102.
Fáryáb, 88 and n, 102 n.
Fás, 60.
Fasá, 73 n.
Fasting, Rules of, 298, et seq.
Fáten or Fáter, 336 n 1.
Fatḥpúr, 59, 437 and n 1.
Fáṭimah, 427 n 2.
Fáṭimite dynasty, The, 62 n.
Fayyáẓí, Shaykh, 420.
Fayyúm, 63 and n, 100 n.
Fazlu'llah Rashídu'ddín, 348 n 3.
Ferishta, 340 n 1, 342 n 2, 343 n 3, 344 n 3, 345 nn 1 and 3, 346 nn 3, 4 and 5, 347 nn 1, 2 and 3, 348 nn 1 and 2, 360
n 2, 361 n 1, 362 n 3, 363 n and nn 1 and 3, 364 n and n 1, 365 nn, 366 nn 3 and 4, 369 n 3, 371 n 3, 421 n 1, 426 n 2.
Fernando Po, 48 n.
Ferrier's Lectures and Remains, 213 n 1.
Ferro, 33 n 1.
Fettak-b-Abí Berdsám, 337 n.
Fez, 61 and n, 76.
Fezzán, 62 n.
Finland, 104 n.
Firdausí, 29 n 1, 86 n, 325 n 2, 327 n 1, 228 nn 1 and 3, 329 and n, 330 n and n 1, 331 n 1, 332 n 1, 336 n 1, 338 n 1, 339 n 1, 340 n, 401, 402.
Firdausí order, The, 354.
Firdausí, Shaykh Badru'ddín, 367.
Firdausí, Shaykh Ruknu'ddín, 367.
Fíroz, Sulṭán, 349, 372.
Firozábád, 67, 74 n.
Fírozábádí, Majdu'ddín, 361.
Fortunate Isles, The, 33 and n 1, 34, 43 n 3, 81 n.
Foucaux, 211 n 2, 212 n 1.
Fragment der Bhagavati, 189 n, 200 n 6 202 n 1, 206 n 1.
France, 107 n, 336 n 1.
Franks, The, 93, 94, 101, 109, 110.
French Academy, The, 13 n 3.
Furáwah, 85.
Furḍhat u'r Rúm, 101.
Furụ 57.
Fushanj, 87 n.
Fusṭáṭ, 61 n, 71.
Futúḥat-i-Makkíyah, The, 377 n.
Fuzail-b-'Iyáẓ, 357.
GABHASTI-MAT, 31.
Gabriel, 325 n 1.
Gagar, The, 32 n 3.
Gaia, 34 n 1.
Gaja-kumbha Kṛiti, 222, 223 n 1.
Gaja ´Sástra, 258.
Gajrah, 313.
Galen, 109 n 1.
Galer, Fort of, 70.
Gallioia, 100 and n.
Gallilee, 64 n.
Gamaka, 253.
Gámdhayantah, 173 n.
Gaṇa, 205 n 3.
Gaṇadharas, The, 204 n, 206 n, 207.
Gandakí, The, 304 and n 3.
Ganḍapáda, 136 n 2.
Gandáva, 68 n.
Gandha, 135.
Gandhamádana Mountain, 30, 31.
Gándhára, 247, 249.
Gandhára-gráma, 246 n.
Gándharva, 31 n 3.
Gándharva, 172.
Gándharva marriage, 309.
Gándharvas, The, 172 n 3, 193 n 2, 309.
Gándharva-veda, 225.
Gaṇeśa, 277, 283 and n 1, 319 n 3, 39?? n 2.
Gaṇeśa-Chaturthí festival, 319 n 3.
Ganeśa-śishya, 205 and n 3.
Ganga, 319 n.
Gangbihisht, 29 n 1.
Gangdíz, 89 n.
Gangdizh, 29 and n 1, 49.
Ganges, The, 59 n, 199 n 1, 211, 285, 289 n, 303, 304 n 4, 305, 306, 319 n, 322 and n 2, 323, 324.
Gangoh, 374 n 2.
Gangoyah, 374.
Ganjam, 3?? n 2.
Ganj-i-Shakkar, Shaykh Farídu'ddín, 363, 364, 367, 368, 370, 372.
Ganj-i-Shakkar, 364 n.
Garbe, Dr. Richard, 144 n 1, 169 n, 176 n 1, 177 n.
Gardiz, 89 n.
Gárhasthya period, The, 275.
Gaṛhí, 303 and n 3.
Garhwál, 226 n 2, 307 n 3.
Garimá, 187.
Garjistán, 96.
Garmsír, 68.
Garshásp, 327 n 1, 328, 329, 330.
Gáruda, science, 238.
Garuḍa, 193 n 2, 238 n 3.
Garuḍa Puráṇa, The, 220, 238 n 3.
Gauṇa, 239 n 1, 240.
Gauṇa-chándra, 318 n 4.
Gaura mukha, 287 n.
Gaurí, 11, 318 n 5.
Gautama smṛiti, The, 221.
Gayangos, 77 n.
Gáyatri, The, 272 and n 1, 316
Gayhat festival, 319 n 3.
Gaz, The, a tribe, 92 n.
Gehlóts, The, 118.
Genoa, 102 n.
Geographia, Ptolemy's, 43 n 2, 45, 46 n 1.
Geographie d' Abulfeda, 33 n 1, 54 n.
Georgia, 96 n.
Gerard of Cremona, 30 n 1.
Gerizim, Mount of, 72 n.
Germanicia, 91 n.
Germans, The, 101 n.
Gésúdaráz, Sayyid Muḥammad, 372.
Geta, Emperor, 56 n.
Ghadámis, 72 and n.
Ghana, 254.
Ghánah, 47 and n.
Ghaṅnṭá-pújá, 280.
Ghaṛi, 16, 17.
Gharíb, Shaykh Burhánu'ddín, 365.
Gharnáṭah, 76.
Ghaṛyál, The, 15.
Ghassán, Kingdom of, 79 n.
Ghasúlí, Abú Yúsuf, 357.
Ghats, The, 31 n 2.
Ghaus, The, 376 n 3.
Ghazán Khán, 81 n, 348 n 3.
Gházípúr, 59.
Ghaznah, Ghazní or Ghazníṅn, 68, 73, 88 n, 89 n, 328 n 1, 330, 340, 341 and n 1, 342, 343, 344 n 4, 360 n 2, 365, 368 and n 1, 407.
Ghaznaví, Abu'l Ḥasan al-, 362 n 1.
Ghaznaví, Shaykh Shihábu'ddín Aḥmad, 366.
Ghazzah (Gaza), 63.
Ghazzálí, Shaykh Aḥmad, 357.
Ghelfeca, Port, 50 n.
Ghichak, The, 255.
Ghiláṅn, 343 n 3.
Ghirjistán, 341 n 2.
Ghiyáṯ, Maulána, 365.
Ghiyáṣpúr, 346 n 4, 365 n 1.
Ghiyáṣu'ddín Ḥasan, 361.
Ghiyáṣu'ddín Sám, Sulṭán, 341, 342
Ghiyáṣu'ddín Tughlaḳ Sháh, 365 n 1.
Ghorian dynasty, The, 425 n 1.
Ghorís, The, 341.
Ghujduwán, 359 n 2.
Ghujduwání, Kh. Abdu'l Kháliḳ, 359.
Ghúṅnghrú, 313.
Ghúṭah of Damascus, 72 n.
Ghuz, Turkish tribe, 342 n 1.
Gibbon, 62 n, 92 n, 102 n.
Gílán, 83, 84, 91.
Gilboa, 64 n.
Gildemeister, 52 n, 77 n.
Gird, 67 n.
Gíta, 253 and n 1.
Gladwin, 19 nn 1 and 4, 27 n 2, 48 n, 57 n, 70 n, 77 n, 89 n, 95 n, 122 n 1.
Godávarí, The, 304 and n 5.
Gog, 7 n 1.
Gogo, 47 n.
Gogra, The, 304.
Goldstücker, 177 n 1.
Gomati (Gumti) The, 304.
Gomedaka Dwípa, 29.
Gonarda, 177 n 1.
Gonardiya, 177 n 1.
Gondwana, 31 n 2.
Gonika, 177 n 1.
Gopál, 251 n 1.
Gor, 74 n.
Gorakshanátha, 185 n 1.
Go-sahasra-dána, 282.
Gośála, 189 n.
Gotama, 127, 139 n 2, 148 n 1, 151 n, 152 n 1, 168 n 1, 188 n 1, 204 and n, 205 n 2, 206 n 1, 310 and n 2.
Gotama Sútra, 139 n 2.
Goths, The, 100 n.
Gotra, 202, 310 and n 2.
Gotrika, 202 n.
Gough Prof., 158 n, 169 n 1, 213 n 1, 216 n 1.
Gough's Philosophy of the Upanishads, 152 n 1, 163 n 1.
Govindánandas, 201 n 4.
Graha, 249 n.
Graha, offerings, 158 n.
Grahaṇa-samápatti, 183.
Gráhya-samápatti, 18??
Graiveyaka, 195 n 2.
Granada, 76 n.
Great Bear, The, 108 n 3, 310 n 1.
Greece, 3, 16 n 3, 36 n 2, 41, 78, 123 n 1, 132, 136 n, 139 n 1, 187 n 4, 329, 330, 378.
Greeks, The, 12 n 3, 13 n 3, 18, 19, 20, 22, 24, 25, 28, 29, 33, 34 and n 1, 35, 36, 37, 38 n 3, 40, 99 n, 109, 110, 112, 126, 127, 224 n, 246 n, 254 n, 328 n 4, 337 n 1.
Green Sea, The, 48 n.
Griffiths' Rámáyaṇa, 304 n 6.
Gṛihastha, The, 210 n 1, 275, 277.
Gṛihitri-samápatti, 183.
Gṛihya-Sútras, The, 222 n 1.
Guadalajara, 77 n.
Guido, 247 n 3.
Gujarát, 52 n, 58, 59 and n, 119, 251 and n 1, 252, 257, 365, 371, 373, 374, 422.
Gujarátí, 120 n.
Gulbarga, 372 n 1.
Gulbárí, Mauláná Humámu'ddín, 422.
Guluband, 313.
Gumti, The, 287 n, 304 and n 3.
Guṇa, 132, 134, 151.
Guṇaka, 25.
Gunáwa, 67 n.
Guptá, 242.
Gurgáni Canon, The, 41.
Gurganí, Shaykh Abu'l Ḳásim, 359.
Gurgáni Tables, The, 20.
Gurján, 407 n 1.
Guru, 233.
Guru (mána), 243.
Gurukkal, 309 n 3.
Gurutva, 135.
Gushtásp, 86 n, 328 and n 4, 449 n 2.
Gushtásp Námah, The, 328 and n 1.
Guyard, 47 n, 51 n, 52 n, 66 n, 73 n, 78 n, 79 n, 82 n, 85 n, 92 n, 96 n, 98 n.
Gwálior, 59, 251 and n 1.
Gymnosophists, The, 331 n 1, 332 n 2.
ḤABI´B-I-AJAMI´, 354, 355.
Ḥabíbí order, The, 354.
Háḍá clan, The, 118.
Ḥadath, 91 n.
Ḥaddád, Shaykh Abú Jaạfar-b-, 352.
Ḥadíḳah, The, 16 n 3.
Ḥadíthah, 80 and n.
Hadiyán, 71.
Haḍramaut, 48, 50 n, 51 n, 53.
Hadrian, 56 n.
Hadyah, 47.
Ḥáfiz A´brú, 1, 212, 326 and n 1.
Ḥáfiz Shírází, 392.
Haft-josh, 15 n 2.
Haibatpati, 70 n.
Haibatpúr, 70.
Haihaya tribe, The, 290 n 1.
Haikal i Zuhra, 93.
Ḥajar, 57, 64, 65.
Ḥajar Shughlán, 64 n.
Ḥájí Ḥámid, 373.
Ḥáji Khalfa, 27 n 3, 326 n 1, 376 n 1, 391 n, 421 n 4, 444 n 1.
Hájípúr, 59.
Ḥajjáj-b-Yúsuf, 66 n, 340, 355.
Hajúbarí, Shaykh Alí, 362.
Ḥaḳíḳat u'l Ḥaḳáiḳ, The, 341 and n 1.
Ḥaḳíḳatu'l Mulk, 392.
Ḥakím Abu'l Fatḥ, 393.
Ḥakím Asadí, 328 n 1.
Ḥakím A´tá, 358.
Ḥakím Humám, 387 n 1, 393.
Ḥakím Mírzá, 383 and n 1.
Ḥakím Sanáí, 16 n 3, 341 and n 1.
Ḥakím-i-Tirmiḍi, 353.
Ḥakímís, The, 351.
Hal, 72.
Haláward, 88, 93 n.
Haldárah, 60.
Ḥali-ibn-Yáḳúb, 51.
Hall, Dr. Fitz-Edward, 134 n 1, 140 n 2, 151 n, 152 n 1, 153 nn 1 and 3, 156 n, 217 n 1.
Ḥalláj, Ḥusayn-b-Manṣúr, 354, 394 and n 1.
Ḥallájís, The, 351.
Ḥalmán of Damascus, 354.
Ham, 75 n, 109, 327.
Hamadán, 80 n, 81 n, 82 and n, 83 and n, 84 n, 396 n 1, 348 n 3.
Hamaríyá, Island of, 77.
Ḥamát, 90.
Hamath, 78 n, 90 n.
Hamdán tribe, The, 50 n.
Ḥamdu'llah Ḳazwíní, 343 n 1.
Ḥamdún, al-Ḳaṣṣár, 351.
Ḥamídu'ddín Nágorí, Ḳáẓí, 364, 367, 368, 369.
Ḥamídu'ddín Suwálí, Shaykh, 367.
Ḥamíd Wazír, 354 n 2.
Hamilcar Barcus, 93 n.
Hammamet, Gulf of, 62 n.
Hammawíyah, Shaykh Saạdu'ddín, 356.
Hammer Purgstall, 25 n 1, 337 n, 343 n 2.
Ḥamzah, Shaykh, 375.
Ḥanbal, Imám, 421.
Hangkow, 52 n.
Hang-tcheou, The, 52 n.
Hang-tcheon-fou, 73 n
Háṅns, 313.
Hánsí, 370, 372, 373.
Hánsi Ḥiṣár, 70.
Hanumán, 159 n, 350 n 5, 392 n 2.
Hanumant, 159 and n 1.
Hár, 313.
Hardwár, 70, 226, 306.
Hardy, 211 n 2, 292 n 1.
Hari, 10 n 1.
Haridvára, 306.
Harikhaṇḍa, 31.
Háril, The, 122.
Ḥárim, 90.
Ḥarírí, al, 50 n, 51 n, 57 n, 350 n 2.
Háríta, The, 221.
Harivanśa, The, 230 and n 2.
Harivarsha, 31 n 1.
Harmatelia, 331 n 1.
Harmuz Sapor, 75 n.
Ḥarrán, 79 and n, 89.
Harsha, 302.
Hartmann, 139 n 1, 178 n.
Hárún, 361.
Ḥasá, al, 57 n.
Hasábah, 60.
Ḥasan, al, 354, 359 n 4, 361.
Haṣan Biṣrí, 354 and n 3, 355.
Ḥasan Ṭáhir, Shaykh, 373, 374.
Hashid, clan of, 53 n.
Hastiní, 243.
Hásya-rasa, 240.
Hatnáwar, 70.
Hattákh, 79.
Ḥaurán, 72 n.
Hausam, 84.
Haya, 290 n 1.
Ḥayátu'l Ḥayawán, The, 391 n.
Hazárah, 69.
Házárasb, 97 and n.
Hazáribágh Dist., The, 189 n.
Ḥaẓrat Azízán, 358.
Heavens, The, 37 and n 1.
Heber, 375 and n 2.
Hecatæus, 109 n 2.
Hegel, 159 n.
Heliopolis, 74 n 378 n 1.
Helmand, The, 68 and n, 91 n.
Hemachandra, 204 n, 206 n 1.
Hemahasti-ratha-dána, 283.
Hemakúṭa, Mountain, 30, 31.
Hems (Ḥimṣ), 78 n.
Hemú, 425 and n 2.
Henry II, Emperor, 336 n 1.
Heraclea Pontica, 101 n.
Herát, 86 n, 87 and n, 330, 352, n 3, 361, n 1 367 n 1.
Hercules, 93 n.
Hercules, Pillars of, 34 n 1.
Hermann, 11 n 1.
Hermes, astronomer, 22 n 2.
Hermes, god, 71 n.
Hermes Trismegistus, 109 and n 1.
Hermetic books, The, 109 n 1.
Hermius, 109 n 1.
Hermonthis, 60 n.
Hermopolis Magna, 71 n.
Herodotus, 34 n 1, 109 n 2, 329 n.
Hesperides, The, 443 n 1.
Hetu, 144 and n 1, 145.
Hetvábhása, 129, 146.
Hevilath, Land of, 32 n 2.
Hidáyat'ul Ḥikmat, The, 14 n 1.
Hierapolis, 79 n.
Ḥijáz, 54 n, 57 and n, 58 and n, 60, 110, 241, 360 and n 1, 367, 397, 419, 424.
Ḥillah, 64 and n, 72 n.
Himáchala, Mountain, 30, 31.
Himalayas, The, 69, 226 n 2, 290 n 1, 305 n 2.
Hima, snow, 30 n3.
Himaván, 30 n 3.
Himavat, 32 n 3.
Ḥimyarites, The, 50 n, 51 n.
Hind, 338 n 1.
Hind, Ummu Salimah, 354 n 3.
Hindaun, 287 and n 3.
Hindi, 120 n.
Hindola, 250 and n 17.
Hindu Astronomy, 12, 14 n 2, 35.
Hinduán, The, 358 n 3.
Hindu Kush, The, 88 n.
Hiouen Thsang, 212 n, 305 n 4.
Hipparchus, 20 nn 1 and 3, 24 nn 1 and 2, 38 n 3, 41 n 1.
Hippemolgi, 290 n 1.
Hippo Regius, 77 n.
Hirábud, 332.
Ḥírah, 72 and n, 89 n.
Ḥírah, Kingdom of, 79 n.
Hiraṇmaya-khaṇḍa, 31.
Hiraṇvat, 31 n 1.
Hiraṇyagarbha, 163 and n 1, 165, 171 n, 172 n 1, 231, 282 and n 2.
Hiraṇyagarbha-dána, 282.
Hiraṇya-kámadhenu-dána, 282.
Hiraṇyakaśipu, 287 n 1, 288 and n 1.
Hiraṇyáksha, 287, and nn 1 and 2.
Hiranyapúra, 287.
Hiraṇyáśva-dána, 282.
Hiraṇyáśva-ratha, 282.
Hiraṇyá Váhas, 304 n 7.
Hiraṇyá Váhu, 304 n 7.
Hishám, Caliph, 81 n.
Ḥiṣn Bạdán, 50.
Ḥiṣn Dimlaut, 50 and n.
Ḥiṣn Ibn Ụmárah, 67.
Ḥiṣn Kaifa, 91.
Ḥiṣn Mahdi, 66.
Ḥiṣn Manṣúr, 78.
Ḥiṣn Tiiz, 49 n, 50 n.
Ḥiṣnu'ṭ Ṭáḳ. 91 n.
Hispania Tarraconensis, 93 n.
Hist. Crit. de Manichée, 337 n 1.
Hist. des Huns, De Guignes', 52 n 343, n 3,
Hist. des Mathématiques, 13 nn 1 and 3, 19 n 3, 20 nn 1 and 3, 24 n 2.
Hist. du Bas Empire, 99 n.
Hist. of Charles V., 107 n.
Hist. of Persia, Malcolm's, 327 n 1.
Hist. of Sanskrit Lit., Max Müller's, 222 nn 1 and 2, 224 n and nn 1, 2 and 3. 226 n 1.
Hist. of the Mongols, 100 n.
Hít, 64.
Hitopadeśa, The, 390 n 2.
Hodgson, 169 n.
Hœmus, 30 n 3.
Holí festival, 321.
Holiká, 321 n 2.
Hollow Syria, 64 n.
Hom, The, 116 and n 3.
Homa sacrifice, The, 157 n 2, 229 and n 4, 274, 275, 276, 277, 279, 281, 308, 316, 322 n 2.
Hombou Shahpúr, 96 n.
Homer, 33 n 1, 109 n 2, 290 n 1, 328 n 3.
Hooker, 124 n.
Hopkins, 261 n 1, 264 n 2, 269 n 1, 270 nn 3 and 4, 271 nn 2 and 3, 300 n 3, 301 nn 2 and 5, 302 n 1, 308 n 2, 311 n 2.
Horizon, The, 40.
Hormuz, 58 and n.
Hormuzd, 337.
Horometry, 16 n 4.
Horus, 60 n.
Hrasvá, 135 and n 1.
Hrasva, 223.
Hubayrah of Baṣrah, 357.
Hubayrí order, The, 354.
Hulágú Khán, 20 n 2, 82 n, 345, 346.
Ḥulúlís, The, 351.
Ḥulwán, 65, 81 n.
Humámu'ddín Gulbárí, Maulána, 422.
Humáyún, 251 n 1, 349 and n 1, 374, 383, 421 n 1, 425.
Humboldt's Cosmos, 15 n 1, 22 n 3, 24 n 1 and 2, 29 n 1, 37 n 1, 38 nn 2 and 3.
Huns, The, 290 n 1.
Hunter, Sir W., 120 n.
Huṛkíyah, The, 257.
Huṛuk, The, 257.
Ḥusámu'ddín Mánikpúrí, Shaykh, 371, 373.
Ḥusayn, al, 354, 357, 360, 361, 391.
Ḥusayn Manṣúr, 349, 354 and n 2.
Ḥusayn Sharḳí, Sulṭán, 251 n 1.
Ḥusayn Wáiẓ, 341 n 1.
Ḥusayní, Mụínu'ddín Abdu'l Ḳádir, 375.
Hushang, 325, 326.
Hydaspes, The, 303, 392 n 1.
Hydraotes, The, 304.
Hyphasis, The, 303.
Ḥuzaifah Marạshí, 357.
Hwang-choo, 52 n.
Hyde, 29 n 1, 337 n 1.
Hyrcania, 110 n 1.
IBERIA, 110 n 1.
Iblís, 325 n 1.
Ibn Aạlam, 20.
Ibn Abí Ṣufra, 407 n 1.
Ibn Arabí, Shaykh, 421.
Ibn Baṭúṭah, 49 n, 52 n, 57 n, 73 n, 79 n, 80 n, 83 n, 94 n, 96 n, 100 n, 101 n, 102 n, 103 n, 119 n 1, 322 n 4.
Ibn Faḳíh, 66 n, 74 n.
Ibn Ḥajr Asḳalání, 361 and n, 424 and n 1.
Ibn Ḥauḳal, 58 n, 66 n, 67 n, 68 n, 80 n, 83 n, 84 n, 97 n, 98 n.
Ibn-i-Baghawí, 352.
Ibn-i-Jalá, 353.
Ibn Khaldún 40 n 1, 49 n, 63 n, 68 n 80 n, 96 n, 100 n, 101 n.
Ibn Khallikán, 73 n, 326 n 3, 359 n 4, 407 n 1, 421 n 4.
Ibn Sayd, 33 n 1, 47 n, 48 n, 49 n, 51 n, 52 n, 54 n, 55 n, 57 n, 61 n, 62 n, 76 n 101 n, 104 n.
Ibn Síná, 421 n 4.
Ibn Ṭáriḳ, 23, 25 n 2.
Ibn-u'l-Athír, 354 n 2.
Ibn-n'l Fáriḍh, Shaykh, 421.
Ibráhím Adham, 350 n 1, 357.
Ibráhím Khán, 425 n 1
Ibráhím, Sulṭán, 340, 341, 370.
Ichchhá, 128, 135.
Iconium, 90 n, 95 n, 421.
Iḍá, 233.
Idol temple of Somnat, 58.
Idrísí, 49 n, 54 n, 56 n, 60 n.
I´ha, 190.
I´j, 423 and n 2, 424.
Iḳbálmand, 348.
Ikhmím, 55, 56 n, 71 n.
Ikshwáku, 117, 188 n 1.
Ilahábás, 33, 59, 232, 306, 324.
I´láḳ, 97 and n, 98 n.
Ilávṛita, 31 n 1.
Ilávṛita-khaṇḍa, 31.
Ildiz, 342 n 2.
Ilistria, 102 n.
Ilkhán dynasty, The, 83 n, 348 n 3.
Ilkháni Tables, The, 20 n 2.
Imádu'ddín Ṭúsi, Shaykh, 367.
Imámís, The, 391, 421.
Imdabhúti, 206 n 1.
Imperial Gazetteer, The, 51 n, 59 n, 69 n, 120 n, 226 n 2, 287 n and n 2, 288 n, 289 n, 303 n 3, 304 n 5, 305 n 4, 314 n 3, 372 n 1, 375 n.
India, 48 and n, 51, 52 and n, 53 n, 54 n, 58, 59, 60, 66 n, 68, 69, 70, 109, 110 and n 1, 121 nn 4 and 5, 122 n 2, 123 n 1, 161 n, 187 n 4, 241, 252, 327 n 1, 328, 329, 330, 334, 336 and n 1, 337, 338, 339 and n 1, 340, 341, 342, 343 and n 1, 345, 349, 383 n 1, 419, 421 n 1
Indian Antiquary, The, 189 n, 204 n, 205 n 1.
Indian Ocean, The, 48 n, 51 n.
Indian Zodiac, The, 21 n 1.
Indica, Albírúní's, See Albírúní's India.
Indisch Alterthum, 113 n 2.
Indra, 113 and n 2, 148 n 3, 153 n 3, 172 and n 1, 194 n, 211 n 2, 220, 282 n 2, 286 and n 4, 287, 290.
Indra-Jála, 239.
Indra-khaṇḍa, 31.
Indrapat, 346 n 4.
Indriya, 129, 132, 139 n 1, 170, 173, 174, 175.
Indus, The, 89, 343, 347.
Inshái Abu'l Fazl, 387 n 1.
Institutes of Manu, See Manu's Ordinances.
I´raj, 109, 375.
Ịráḳ, 9, 60, 64 and n, 65 and n, 72 and n, 73, 75, 80, 85 n, 86 n, 108, 120, 326, 342, 344, 396 n 1, 407 n 1, 428.
Ịráḳ, Persian, 80 n.
Iram, 49 and n.
I´rán, 44, 100, 241, 330, 344, 363, 419, 423, 425.
Irávatí, The, 304.
Irbil, 80, 81 n, 84 n.
Irḳah, 90.
Irmak, The, 101 n.
Iron Gate, The, 95 n.
Iṣábah, fí tamyíz iṣ Ṣiḥábah, The, 361 n, 424 n 1.
Isakdje, 102 n.
I´sán, 110.
I´śána, 113 and n 2, 194 n.
Isbaráin, 85 n, 87 n.
Iseion, The, 60 n.
Iṣfahán, 38 n 2, 66, 67 n, 73 and n, 83 n, 84 and n, 85, 92 n, 325, 360 n 1, 396 n 1.
Isfandiyár, 85 n, 328, 329 and n and n 1, 337, 449 n 2.
Isfíjáb, 88 n, 98 and n.
Isfínjáb, 101 n.
Isḥáḳ, M., b-, 337 n.
Ishárah ilá ilmi'l Manṭiḳ, The, 422 n.
Ishárát, The, 421 and n 4.
Ishbíliyyah, 76.
Isis, 60 n.
I´śitva, 187.
Iskalkand, 92.
Iskandarún, Gulf of, 78 n.
Islám, City of, 81 n.
Islands of the Blest, 33 and n 1.
Islands of the Happy Ones, 43 n 3.
Ismáílians, The, 396 n 1.
Isná, 55.
Issachar, tribe of, 64 n.
Issus, 78 n, Gulf of—, 110 n 1.
Isṭakhr, 67, 74 n, 423 n 2.
Iṣṭakhrí, 58 n, 74 n, 98 n.
Iṣṭiláḥát u'l Funún, The, 14 n 1, 37 n 1, 130 n 1.
Istiṭálah of Ḥáfiz A´brú, 326 and n 1.
Istros, 94 n.
I´śvarakṛishṇa, 169 n.
I´śvara-praṇiḍhâna, 184.
I´śvara-pújá, 279.
I´śvara-upásana, 180, 182.
I´śwara, 160, 161, 163 n 1, 168 n, 170 n 2.
Italy, 24 n 2.
Itil, The, sea, 101 n, 103.
Iviza Island, 77 n.
I'yází order, The, 354.
'Izzu'd Daulah Bakhtyár, 407 n 1.
JAAFAR aṣ Ṣádiḳ, Imám, 359 and n 4.
Jabal district, The, 80 n, 81 and n, 82, 83 and n, 84 and n, 87 n, 362 n 2.
Jabal Már Elyás, 378 n 1.
Jabal Shammar, 57 n.
Jábáli, The, 221.
Jábalk, 104.
Jabart, 47 n.
Jabbul, 75 n.
Jábulisa, 102.
Jabulká, 104 n.
Jabulsá, 104 n.
Jacob, 72 n.
Jacob, Major, 141 n 2, 155 n 2, 157 n 1, 160 n 1, 161 n 1, 164 n 3.
Jacobi, 188 n 1, 189 n, 193 n, 204 n, 208 nn 1 and 3, 209 n.
Jádoṅns, The, 118.
Jaen, 77 n, 100 n.
Jaffa, 64 n.
Jag, 115. ág, 281.
Jagannáth, 151 n.
Jag-deś, 33.
Jahángír, Memoirs of, 119 n 1.
Jahánsoz, Aláu'ddín, 341.
Jahrb. der Lit., 337 n 1.
Jaimini, 116 n 2, 152 and n 1.
Jaimini Darśana, The, 155 n 1.
Jaina School of Philosophy, 188 et seq. 213.
Jaina Sútras, The, 189 n, 193 n, 204 n.
Jainas, The, 169 n, 188 n 1, 189 n, 191 n 3, 192 n 1, 193, 195 n 3, 197, 202 n, 210 and n 2, 238 n 2, 293, 305 n 4.
Jainism, 188 n 1, 192 n 1, 204 n.
Jaipúr, 287 n 3, 304 n 5, 314 n 3.
Jájram, 91.
Jalál, Shaykh, 369.
Jalálíya faḳírs The, 369 n 4.
Jalálu'ddín Awadhí, Shaykh, 370.
Jalálu'ddín Bukhárí, 371 and n 3, 374.
Jalálu'ddín Dawwání, Maulána, 422, 424.
Jalálu'ddín Fíroz Khilji, 346, 347 n, 366, n 3.
Jalálu'ddín Maḥmúd al Ḳazwíní, 444 n 1.
Jalálu'ddin Mankburní, 343, 344 and n 4.
Jalálu'ddín Muḥammad, Shaykh, 370.
Jalálu'ddín Tabrízí, Shaykh, 366.
Jáliḳ, 68.
Jáliḳán, 68 n.
Jálindha, Shaykh, Gujarátí, 373.
Jallíḳiyyah, 100.
Jalpa, 129, 145.
Jalúlá, 65 and n.
Jám, 92.
Jáma, The, 311 and n 4.
Jamadagni, 289, 290, 291 n 1, 303 n 5.
Jamál, Shaykh, 375.
Jamal Ḳitál, 370.
Jamálu'ddín Hánsawí, Shaykh, 370, 372.
Jamálu'ddín Sulaymán, 363
Jambu, The Eugenia, 28 n 2.
Jambu, The, 28 n 2.
Jambu Dwípa, 28 and n 2, 29, 31 and n 1, 32, 192 n 1, 195 n 3.
Jámí, 350 n 1, 351 n, and nn 1 and 2, 352 nn 2 and 4, 353 n and n 1, 355 nn 1 and 2, 356 nn, 1 and 2, 357, n 1, 358 nn, 359 n 1 362 n 3, 376 n 3, 418.
Jámi'ut Tawáríkh i Rashídí, 348 and n 3.
Jamshíd, 89 n, 327 and n 1, 411 n 1.
Jamuna, The, 292, 303, 304 n 5, 324, 348, 369, 423.
Janad, 50.
Janaka upa-smṛiti, The, 221.
Jana-loka, 32, 164 n 2.
Janárddana, 10 n 1.
Jand, 97.
Jandah, 102.
Jandal, 338 n 1.
Janman, 140, 141.
Jannábah, 66 n, 67.
Janúhahs, The, 118.
Janus, 94 n.
Japanese, The, 292 n 1.
Japa-yagṅna, 281.
Japhet, 7 n 1, 109.
Jarásandha, 292.
Jarbádḳán, 84.
Jarbah, Island of, 61.
Járejahs, The, 118.
Jaríd country, The, 72.
Jarjaráyá, 65.
Jarmi, 47.
Jarrett's History of the Caliphs, 62 n, 65 n, 73 n, 80 n, 343 n 8, 352 n 1, 426 n 2.
Jarún, 78 and n.
Játas, The, 290 n 1.
Játi, 129, 133 n 2, 146, 150.
Játukarṇya, The, 221.
Jauf, 50 n, 57 n.
Jaunpúr, See Jounpúr.
Jaunpúri, Sayyid Muḥammad, 373.
Jausen, 74.
Java, 49 n.
Java Archipelago, The, 48 n, 51 n, 54 n
Javidán Khirad, The, 325 n 2.
Jawain, 91.
Jawe, 313.
Jaxartes, The, 88 n, 97 n, 98 and n.
Jayanta, 194 n.
Jaypál, Rájá, 360 n 2.
Jayy, 92 n.
Jayy-Iṣphahán, 92.
Jayyán, 77.
Jazírah, Signification of, 49 n.
Jazírah i
Jazírah i Sabálya, 94.
Jazírat al Khaḍhrá, 76.
Jazírat-ibn-Omar, 79, 91 n.
Jeddah, 49 n, 57 n, 325, 361 n.
Jedi, The, 59 n.
Jehar, 313.
Jenua, 94 n.
Jerba, Island of, 61 n.
Jerdon, 121 nn 3, 4 and 5, 122 nn 1 and 2.
Jeremiah, 63 n.
Jerome, St., 90 n.
Jerusalem, 63 n, 92 n.
Jesalmér, 421 n 1.
Jesuit Fathers, The, 331 n 1.
Jews, The, 336 n 1.
Jeypore, See Jaipúr.
Jezabel, 378 n 1.
Jhajhar, 70.
Jhanjhána, 374.
Jhansi, 364.
Jhelam, 69.
Jhelum, 303 n 3.
Jhiṅnjhánah, 70.
Jihvámúlíya, 222.
Jíl, 357.
Jílán, 358.
Jími, 47.
Jina, 188 and n 1, 192, 198 n, 202 n, 207,
Jínd, 70.
Jinésvara, 188 n 1.
Jíraft, 58.
Jird, 67 n.
Jirm, 89.
Jisr, 89.
Jítal, 363 n.
Jíva, 160, 165 n 3, 201, 202 n 2, 215 n 2.
Jívan-mukti, 288.
Jívátman, 129 and n 2, 137, 160, 191, 192.
Jṅnáná, 219.
Jṅnánakánḍa, 165.
Jṅnáná-varaṇíya, 201, 202 n.
Jṅnánendriya, 162.
Jṅnátádharmakatha, The, 204 and n.
Jṅnyána, 128.
Joab, 63 n.
Jodhpúr, State of, 314 n 3.
Jones, Sir W., 13 n 3, 22 n 1, 32 n 3, 113 n 2, 115 n 2, 116 n 1, 221 n 1, 246 n, 249 n 1, 269 n 1, 270 n 1, 300 n 3, 302 n 1, 309 n 4, 311 n 1, 318 n 4, 322 n 1, 325 n 2, 383 n 3, 390 n 2.
Jor, 74.
Jordan, The, 64, 72.
Jorzán, 101 n.
Joseph, 63 n, 72 n, 392.
Josephus, 64 n.
Jounpúr, 59, 251 n 1, 251, 257, 373, 427, 428 n 2.
Journal Asiatique, 61 n.
Journal of the R. A. S, 217 n 1.
Jowett, Prof., 140 n 1.
Jozoula, 54 n.
Jubbah, 73 n.
Jubbi, 73 and n.
Jublah, 50.
Juda, 378 n 1.
Juddah, See Jeddah.
Juglyahs, The, 198 and n 2, 200.
Juḥfah, 57.
Juhú, 158 n.
Julius Cæsar, 60 n.
Jullábí, Othmán-b Abí Alí, 362.
Júmi, 47 n.
Junayd 352, 353, 354, 356, 359, 371.
Junaydís, The, 351.
Jundísábúr, 96 n.
Jupiter, 12, 113 n 2, 442 n 2.
Jupiter Ammon, 377 n 1.
Jurash, 51.
Jurján, 43 n 3, 84 n, 85 and n, 86 n, 88 n, 91, 325 n 1.
Jurjáníyyah, 97 and n.
Jurjoo, 251 n 1.
Justin, 336 n 1.
Justinian, 336 n 1.
Juwaini, 344 n 1.
Jyeshṭhá, 242.
Jyotisha, 224 and n 1.
Jyotishka, 194, 199.
KA´A, 53.
Kạárah, 53.
Ḳabáchah, Náṣiru'ddín, 342 and n 2, 343 n 3, 344, 345.
Ḳábis, 71.
Kabs, 99.
Kábul, 69 n, 88 n, 89 and n, 119, 326, 327, 328 and n 2, 338 n 1, 346, 363, 383 n 1, 394.
Kábulistán, 68 n, 89.
Kach, 344.
Kachchwáhahs, The, 118.
Ḳadar Khán, 346 and n 2.
Ḳádirís, The, 357.
Ḳádisíyyah, 72.
Kadru, 238 n 3.
Kadwál, 75.
Ḳáf, Mountain of, 39 and n 1, 104 n.
Kafá, 101 n, 103, 104 n.
Kafarṭáb, 75.
Kafartúthá, 75.
Ḳahandazí, Ibráhím, 361 and n 1.
Kai Khusrau, 29 n 1, 330.
Kailása Mtn., 290 and n 1, 291, 305 and n 2.
Ḳáim bi'amri'lláhi, al, 73 n.
Ḳáim bi'llah, Fatimite Caliph, 62 n.
Ḳáin, 86 and n.
Kairánah, 70.
Ḳairawán, 62 and n.
Ḳais, Island of, 60.
Ḳaisar, 90.
Ḳaisariyyah, 63, 90 n, 95.
Kakava, 91 n.
Kákí, Ḳuṭbu'd-dín Bakhtyár, 363, 364, 366.
Kála, 132, 133, 190, 200.
Kalah, Island of, 48 and n.
Kalahántaritá, 243.
Kalại, 48 n.
Kálak, 104.
Kálampúr, 59.
Ḳalandar, Abú Alí, 368.
Kalánúr, 69.
Kálár, 84 and n.
Kalasa-Púja, The, 279.
Kálatushṭi, 176.
Kalávants, The, 256.
Kalb, tribe of, 427 n 2.
Ḳalhát, 54.
Kálidása, 117 n 4.
Ḳalíj Khán, 392.
Ḳáliḳatá, 79.
Kalílah and Damna, 339 and n 1 341 and n 1.
Kalinga, 239 n 1.
Kálinjar, Fort of, 59, 251 n 1,
Kalísah, 60.
Kálí Upa-puráṇa, The, 220.
Kálíyá, 306 n 1.
Kali Yuga, The, 13 n 3, 147 n 1, 174 n 4, 239, 292, 293, 298, 310.
Kalkí, 293.
Kalkyavatára, 293.
Kall-Atz, 345.
Kalpa, 147 n 1, 174 n 4.
Kalpa The, 222 and n 1.
Kalpa Sútra, The, 188 n 1.
Kalpa-latadána, 283.
Kalpa-taru-dána, 282.
Kalpátíta, 195.
Kalpavásis, 195 n 3.
Kalpa-vṛikhas, The, 198 n 1.
Kalpa-vṛiksha, 286 and n 2.
Kalpupapanna, 194.
Kalyán, 375.
Káma-dhenu, 11, 114 and n 2, 282 n 2, 286, 290.
Káma-duk, 114 n 2.
Kamál, Shaykh, 365.
Kamálu'l Ḥaḳḳ, 373.
Káma-śástra, 239.
Kámávasáyítva, 187.
Ḳámerún, Mountains of, 48.
Kámi songs, 252.
Kamíl, 354.
Kamma, 214 n 3.
Kampila, 33.
Kamrúp, 48 n.
Kámya, 157 and n 1.
Kaṇáda, 132 n 2, 148 n 1, 150 and n 2, 152 n 1.
Kaṇáda Upa-smṛiti, The, 221.
Kanauj, 33, 59 and n, 319 n 3, 330, 338 n 1, 339 n 1, 421 n 1.
Kanchanís, The, 257 and n 3.
Kánchi, 305.
Kánchivaram, 305 n 4.
Ḳandahár, 68 and n, 119, 364.
Kanem, 47 n.
Kang or Kangkiu, 29 n 1.
Kangan, 313.
Kángra, 306 n 4, 318.
Kanisṭhá, 242.
Kanjarí, The, 257.
Kansa, 291, 292.
Kant, 169 n 3.
Ḳánúnu'l Mumtaniḥ, The, 47 n, 48 n, 50 n, 52 n, 53 n, 59 n, 59 n, 81 n, 82 n, 84 n, 85.
Ḳánún, The, 254 n 3, 255 and n 1.
Kanya-gata, 320 n 1.
Kanyaká, 241.
Kányakubja, 32 n 3.
Kaoli, 98 n.
Kapak Mughal, 348 and n 3.
Kapála Yantra, The, 16 n 4.
Kapila, 138 n 2, 139 n 1, 140 n 1, 141 n 1, 161 n, 167, 168 n 1, 169 n, 170 n 1, 174 n, 177 n 1.
Kápila, The, 220.
Kapila-vastu, 168 n 1, 292 n 1.
Kapinjala, The, 221.
Kápya Patamchala, 177 n 1.
Ḳarádah, 89.
Karaghán Mts., 84 n.
Karáh, The, 199 and n 2.
Karaj, 83, 84 n, 92.
Karak, Khwájah. 366.
Ḳaráḳash Malik, 345.
Ḳaran, 350 n 2.
Karaṇa, 116.
Káraṇa, 143.
Karaṇam, 264 n 2.
Karbalá, 65 n, 391.
Ḳarínain, 87 and n, 90.
Ḳarḳar, 102.
Karkha songs, 252, 257.
Karkhí order, The, 354.
Ḳarḳísiyá, 79 and n.
Karmakáṇḍa, The, 165.
Karman, 132, 133, 140, 141, 151, 156, 181, 201 and n 4, 202 n 1, 219.
Karmanighát, 304 n 5.
Karma-Vipáka, 225.
Karmendriya, 162 and n 1, 178.
Karmghar, 69 n.
Karnak, 55 n.
Karnál, 70.
Karnátik, The, 119, 251.
Karnphúl, 312.
Karrah, 366 and n 3.
Kárrtikeya, 304 n 5, 306 n 2, 320 n 3.
Ḳarṭiá, 59.
Kárttavírya, 290 and n 1, 291 n 1.
Karún, 91.
Kárún, The, 65 n.
Karuṇá, 181, 182.
Karuṇa-rasa, 241.
Karwez, 89.
Kárya, 143.
Kásán, 98.
Kasan, 103 n.
Kaser, 31.
Kash, 97 and n.
Káshán, 84.
Káshghar, 88 n, 98 n, 102.
Kashmír, 7, 60, 119, 121, 177 n 1, 211, 212, 252 n, 306, 337, 338 n 1, 394.
Kashmír, Persia, 86 n, 89 and n.
Kashsháfu'l Maḥjúb, The, 362.
Káśi, 305.
Káśiká, The, 177 n 1.
Ḳásim-b-Muḥd.-b-Abú Bakr, 360.
Ḳaṣr Aḥmad, 62.
Ḳaṣr i Aárifín, 359.
Ḳaṣr i Abdu'l Karím, 76.
Ḳaṣr i Hinduán, 359.
Ḳaṣr Ibn Hubayrah, 65.
Ḳaṣr Shírín, 81.
Ḳaṣrí, Shaykh Ismáíl, 356.
Ḳaṣṣáb, Muḥammad, 352.
Ḳaṣṣárs, The, 351.
Kastamúni, 101 and n, 102.
Kastilyún, 100 n.
Kaśyapa, 117, 188 n 1, 227 and n 2, 228, 230, 238 n 3, 288, 289 n, 310 and n 2.
Káśyapa Upa-smṛiti, The, 221.
Katáligh, 102.
Káth, 96, 97 n.
Kaṭh Tála, 256.
Káthíawár, 304 n 3.
Kátibí, 338 n 1.
Ḳaṭíf, 57, 58 n.
Kaṭi-mekhlá, 313.
Ḳatlagh Khwájah, Prince, 345 n 1, 347 and nn 2 and 3.
Kattání, Abú Bakr, 353.
Kattiwár, 188 n 1.
Kátyáyana, The, 221.
Kaulam, 51.
Kaumara, 173 n 4.
Kaumára-bhṛitya, 225n.
Kaurnak, 327.
Kausalya, 291.
Kauśikí, The, 303 and nn 3 and 5, 304 n.
Kaustubha, 286.
Kaustubha-maṇi, 286.
Kautam, 83.
Ḳawám, Mír Sayyid Alí, 373.
Kawárah, 75.
Ḳawárírí, al, 352.
Kawáshir, 67 n.
Ḳawwáls, The, 256 and n 4.
Káya-chikitsa, 225 n.
Káyavyúha, 142.
Kayd, 334, 335 n, 336.
Kayn, 86 n.
Kayúmars, 325.
Ḳáẓí Khán, 373.
Ḳáẓí Maḥmúd, 252 n 1, 373.
Ḳáẓí Shihábu'd-dín, 370.
Kázrún, 66 and n, 421 n 3.
Kázrúní order, The, 354.
Ḳazwín, 83 and n, 84 n, 87 n, 362 n 2, 396 n 1.
Ḳazwíní, al, 104 n.
Keft, 60 n.
Keish, Island of, 60 n.
Keith Johnston, 47 n, 58 n, 60 n, 61 n, 62 n, 64 n, 66 n, 67 n, 71 n, 72 n, 73 n, 76 n, 78 n, 79 n, 80 n, 82 n, 83 n, 84 n, 85 n, 86 n, 90 n, 91 n, 92 n, 96 n, 98 n, 303 n 3, 342 n 2, 372 n 1.
Kellgren, 11 n 1.
Kend, 335 n.
Kerak Moab, 64 n.
Kertch, 101 and n.
Ketáma, Castle of, 76 n.
Kethal, 70.
Ketumála, 31.
Ketumala, 31 n 1.
Kevala, 238 and n 2.
Kevala-jṅnána, 190.
Kevalánvayin, 144, 145, 156.
Kevala-vyatirekin, 144, 145, 156.
Keydah, 48 n.
Khabís, 67.
Khábúr, The, 79 n.
Khafíf, Abú Abdu'llah Muḥd.-b-, 353.
Khafífís, The, 351.
Khaibar, 57.
Khaiwán, 51.
Khájú, 98.
Khaláṭ, 100 n.
Khálid, 91 n.
Khalih, 60.
Khalíl A´tá, 359.
Khalkhál, 313.
Kháltán Mekrán, 68.
Khán Báligh, 52 n, 102 and n.
Khaṇḍa-pralaya, 147.
Khandésh, 448 n.
Khandhas, 214 n 3.
Khaṇḍitá, 243.
Khánfou, 73 n.
Khanjari, The, 256 and n 1.
Khánjú, 52 and n.
Khankarah, 96.
Khánḳú, 52.
Khansá, 73 and n.
Khansa, or kinsay, 119 n 1.
Khansárí, Mauláná Aḥmad, 369.
Khánzádahs of Mewát, The, 118.
Kharaḳán, 359 n 3.
Kharaḳání, Shaykh Abu'l Ḥasan, 359,
Kharba, 200.
Khardal, 123 n 1.
I omit the izáfat after
I should alter the punctuation of the
text and place the stop after
This language, considering the dedication of the volume and the eye under which it was written, cannot be taken as an expression of regret at his accredited apostasy from Islam and conversion to Hinduism, but to imply the necessity of following the language of conventionality though pledged to the support of his master's creed. Nevertheless his sincerity in his adhesion to Akbar's faith was suspected. See Vol. I. Biography xvii.
↩That is, preparing for the world to come while yet in this, or facilitating the salvation of others.
↩Abú Isḥáḳ lbráhím-b-Hilál, aṣ-Ṣábí or the Sabean, author of some celebrated Epistles, was clerk of the Baghdad Chancery office in which he acted as secretary to the Caliph al-Muṭí l'illáh and to I'zzu'd Daulah Bakhtyár of the family of Buwayh the Daylamite. He was born about A. H. 320 (A. D. 932), and died in 384 (A. D. 994.) He remained a strict Sabean and would not change his religion notwithstanding the solicitations of I'zzu'd Daulah. He wrote a history of the Buwayh dynasty under the title of Táju'l Milal or Táju'l Daylamíyah. See Ibn Khall and D'Herbelot. The latter precedes the notice of this personage with an account of the Sabean doctrines.
Al-Muhallabí was descended from Ibn Abí Ṣufra al-Azdí and was appointed Wazír by Mu'izzu'd Daulah Ibn Buwayh in A. H. 339 (A. D. 950). Ibn Khallakán says that his powerful influence and firm administration, as well as his acquaintance with literature, made him celebrated. He was born in A. H. 291 (A. D. 903) and died in A. H. 352 (963), and was buried at Baghdad. A few of his verses are given by his biographer, but there is no mention of any work of his composition. It is more probable that Ṣábí and Muhallabí would never have been heard of but for the House of Buwayh whose history is involved in, and survives with the annals of the Arabian Caliphate of which they were at one time masters. Their dominion extended over I'raḳ, Persia, Khúzistán, Ahwáz, Ṭabaristán, Gurján and Mazenderán under seventeen princes, and finally passed into the hands of the dynasty of Seljúk.
Rúdakí flourished in the reign of Amír Naṣr, son of Aḥmad of the Samánide dynasty, and was extraordinarily favoured by that prince. He turned the Arabictranslation of Pilpay's ‘Fables’ into Persian verse in A. H. 313 (A. D. 925), and was the first who wrote a Díwán or collection of odes in Persian. He died in A. H. 343 (A. D. 954). Beale. U'nṣari lived in the court of Maḥmúd of Ghazní and wrote an heroic poem on the deeds of Sulṭán Maḥmúd. He was also the author of a Díwán. He ranked not only as one of the first poets in that celebrated court, but was versed in all the learning of that age. His death is placed variously in A. H. 1040 and 1049. For U'tbí see Vol. II. p. 34 n. 7.
↩The reader of the preceding pages will scarcely be of this opinion.
↩The influence of the Sanskrit Schools of Philosophy is here very distinct. This passage breathes the spirit of the Vedanta.
↩These figures of speech may remind the reader of Praëd's lines on Macaulay's appearance at the debating union at Cambridge.
↩“The favourite comes with his trumpets and drums,
And his arms and his metaphors crossed.”
As a euphemistic, circumlocutory and unconsciously humorous description of an application for salary, this passage is, perhaps, unequalled in any literature.
↩He required a large provision. His enormous appetite needed for its gratification or surfeit twenty-two sérs of solid food daily. See Vol. I. Biography, xxviii.
↩Both Abul Fazl and his brother Faizí entered the military service, then the only profession. See Vol. I. Biography, xv.
↩The cup or mirror of Jamshíd, as well as of Solomon, Cyrus, and of Alexander, which mirrored the universe, according to Oriental tradition. See p. 330.
↩He received in 1585, the command of a thousand horse. In 1592 he was promoted to be commander of two thousand horse, and about 1595 to the command of two thousand five hundred horse, and became one of the grandees of the empire. See Vol. I. xv, xviii, and xxi.
↩For the names of these see Vol. I., xxxiii.
↩His brother Fayzí.
↩The epoch of the Divine Era was Friday, the 5th of Rabíi' II. A.H. 963. (19th February 1556.)
↩See Vol. I. Preface.
↩ The punctuation is faulty, and the
stop after
The text has
Cf. Vol. I. Biography of Abul Fazl.
↩See pages 372-4.
↩See page 357.
↩See Vol. I. Biog. p. ii.
↩This passage is so obscure from the confusion and omission of pronouns that it is with great difficulty I have been able to disentangle and determine what I conceive is its sense.
↩See Biog. Vol. I. ii. Blochmann refers to this as “the Maldeo disturbances” without further comment. I think he misapprehends the sense. Abul Fazl must refer to the affair subsequent to the final defeat of Humáyún by Shér Sháh, near Kanauj, in A. H. 947 (A. D. 1540). Humáyún fled to Sind, and failing in his attempts there marched by way of Jesalmér to Nágor and Ajmér then ruled by Maldeo the most powerful of Hindu Rájahs. This prince determined to seize him and make him over to Shér Sháh. Warned in time Humáyún fled at midnight to Amarkot. The horrors of that flight are described by Ferishta and copied by Elphinstone. At Amarkot in 1542, Akbar was born. Shér Sháh became now ruler of India till his death in 1545.
↩i e., Shíạh.
↩Kázarún is in Persia, between the seacoast and Shíráz, called, according to Yáḳút, the Persian Damietta, from its manufacture of linen cloths. From Damietta, as is well-known, the stuff called dimity, takes its name.
↩ The Shifá and Ishárah are two works
of Ḥusayn-b-Abdu'llah; the former on
logic according to Ḥájí Khalífah, but
Ibn i Khallakán states its subject to be
philosophy (
Dawwán is a district in Persia celebrated for its excellent wine. Yáḳút.
↩See Vol. II. pp. 28-29.
↩ Blochmann has “Iujú (Shíráz),” but
Yáḳút gives no such name. The text
has distinctly
Shihábu'ddín Abu'l Fazl Aḥmad-b-Alí-b Ḥajr al Asḳalání, the well-known author of the Iṣábah fí tamyíz iṣ-Ṣiḥábah (recta institutio de distinctione inter socios prophetæ). He died in A. H. 852 (A. D. 1448).
↩Sher Khán was the son of Ibráhím Khán, a native of Afghanistan who claimed descent from the Ghorian dynasty.
↩Hemú was a shop-keeper whom Salím Sháh had made Superintendent of the markets, and who was raised by Muḥammad Sháh Aádilí to the highest honours and entrusted with the whole administration. He certainly proved his great capacity, for he suppressed the revolt of Sikandar Súr in the Punjab, crushed Muḥammad Súr in Bengal, captured Agra from the Mughal troops, and defeated Akbar's general Tardi Beg at Delhi. He was, however, eventually beaten at Panipat by Bayrám Khán, on the 5th November 1556, after a desperate battle in which he fought with the greatest bravery. He had been shot in the eye by an arrow in his howdah, and though in great agony, he drew the arrow with the eye-ball out of its socket and wrapt it in his handkerchief, and continued the fight to encourage his troops. He was taken prisoner and carried before Akbar. Bayrám recommended the king to slay him with his own hand and fulfil a meritorious act. Akbar lightly touched him with his sabre and became entitled to the honours of a Gházi—a slayer of infidels. The deed itself he suffered Bayrám to execute, who decapitated Hemú at a single blow. Saladin, a true Gházi, would have spared so gallant a foe.
↩It is popularly supposed that a fumigation with wild rue and its seeds which are set alight, arrest the malignant effects of the evil-eye. The term used is “the eye of perfection.” The praise of any object in the possession of an Oriental is regarded as ominous by him and as bringing a nemesis with it, for all perfect things decline after reaching their zenith.
↩He was born at Agra on the 6th Muḥarram 958 (14 January 1551).
↩I presume this means the quarter in which his family resided. There is no mention of these distresses in Ferishta. Abul Fazl makes a brief allusion to it in the Akbarnámah. He says that there was great scarcity throughout Hindustan, and especially in Delhi where the famine was extreme, and although money might be obtained, food-grain was not to be had; men were driven to feed on human flesh, and parties were formed to carry off any solitary person in order to eat him. Text, Vol. II. 35. Similar stories are told of the great famine in Egypt in A. H. 596 (A. D. 1199) in the Caliphate of Náṣirli dín illáh. See Suyúṭí's History of the Caliphs. Transl. Jarrett, p. 480. In Abd'ul Laṭíf's History of Egypt, the fact is recorded of parties of men capturing solitary individuals to kill and eat them.
↩See Vol. I. Biog. iii, iv. ff. for the Mahdawí movement and the history of Shaykh Aláí.
↩Amongst these are that he must be of the tribe of the Ḳuraysh and of the family of Fáṭima. His countenance will be open and his nose aquiline, and he will fill the earth with equity and justice as it has been filled with tyranny and oppression. A rival, also of the Ḳuraysh, will be raised up to oppose him, who will levy war against him and obtain aid of his uncles of the tribe of Kalb. During the reign of the Mahdí, heaven and earth will be pleased with him and there shall be abundant rains, and the earth will give forth her fruits and men's lives will pass pleasantly, and he will continue on the earth seven, eight or nine years, and dying, will be prayed over by the Muslims. Other tokens have been predicted, such as the black ensigns coming from the direction of Khorásán; but these were additions made in the interest of the Abbasides and for the glory of that house. See also Blochmann's extract from the Rauzat u'l Aimmah. Vol I. Biog. iii.
↩He first promulgated his own pretensions to the office of Mahdí at Biánah, S. W. of Agra. Blochmann, ibid v.
↩ I accept the variant reading in the
note. By
This was probably Miyán Abdu'llah, a Niyází Afghán and a disciple of Mír Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpúr. See Vol. I. Biog. v.
↩This must refer to Makhdúm u'l Mulk, whose bold opposition to Akbar's religious pretensions caused his dismissal from court, his banishment from the kingdom and finally his removal by poison at the instigation of Akbar, if the Sunnis are to be believed. See the notice of his life in Vol. I. Biog. vii.
↩This is of course Fayẓi, his elder brother.
↩An expression taken from the Ḳurán.
↩Lit. Turks, but I apprehend the meaning is any guard of armed men. They were probably Mughals.
↩This was Fatḥpúr Síkri. See Vol. I. Biog. x.
↩ The text has
The stop after
See his change of opinion in this respect in the character of him drawn by Badáoní. Vol. I. xix.
↩See Vol. II. p. 30, 31.
↩In the Biography of Abul Fazl (Vol. I. xviii) Blochmann gives the date as the 4th September, but this cannot be, as the year 1001 began on Monday, 28th September 1592, and Zi'l Ḥijjah follows Zi'lḳaạdah.
↩The office of Jupiter in the Oriental planetary system is supposed to be that of a Ḳázi, and the robe represents his official dignity. Mercury is the heavenly scribe.
↩This Oriental legend of the fabulous guardianship of treasure by a serpent has its parallel in the myth of the Hesperides.
↩Commentarius longior, the name of a celebrated commentary of Saạdu'ddín Masạúd-b-U'marat-Taftázání (died A. H. 792, A. D. 1389) on the Talkhíṣu'l Miftáḥ of Shaykh and Imam Jalálu'ddín Maḥmúd-b-Abdu'r Raḥmán al-Ḳazwíní ash-Sháfiạí (died A. H. 739, A. D. 1338). The latter work is on the analysis of grammatical signification and the explanatory science, i. e., rhetoric. Ḥáji Khalífah devotes several pages to its detail and the glosses that have been written on it and on its commentary the Muṭawwal. That referred to in the text is by Abu'l Ḳásim-b-Abí Bakr al-Laithi as-Samarḳandí.
↩See Vol. I. p. 548.
↩ The pronoun
Blochmann translates ‘well versed
in fencing.’ I do not think this is the signification
of
See Vol. I. p. 33. Vol. II. p. 30.
↩“Akbar married him to the daughter of Sạádat Yár Kokah's brother.” Blochmann. Vol. I. xxxv.
↩The name of the son of Gushtásp, and brother to Isfandiyár.
↩ The Father of Unity, i.e., professing
the unity of God, instead of Abu'l Fazl,
the father of bounty. Abu'l Himmat
signifies the father of resolution, and
Abu'l Fiṭrat, the father of understanding.
I would amend the