Muntaḫab al-tavārīḫ - The Muntakhabu-’rukh, Volume 3

He was the orthodox successor of Khājagān^65a Khāja who was the true successor of the holy Khāja-yi-Aḥrār (may God sanctify their souls!). When Khāja ‘Abdu-'sh-Shahīd was born he was taken to the holy Khāja-yi-Aḥrār, who took him in his arms and said “He will be a wise man.” The revered Khāja was perfect both in outward appearance and in inward qualities.^65b He practised severe austerities,^65c striving much in the path of holiness, and was a compendium of all such perfection as man can attain to. The people acquired grace from the precious utterances of that model of virtuous men, being directed thereby in the path of righteousness and godly living.^65d He walked in the footsteps of the holy Khāja-yi-Aḥrār (may God sanctify his tomb!).

Coming from Samarqand to India he remained here for seventeen years, and in the year H. 982 (A.D. 1574-5) he said, “The time of my departure draws nigh, and I have been commanded to convey this handful of bones, of which I am composed, to the burying place of my ancestors in Samarqand.” He then set out for Samarqand, and on his arrival at Kābul it happened that Mīrzā Shāh Rukh had just taken the people of Kābul captive, and was returning with them to Badakhshān.^65e By means of the intercession of the Khāja nearly ten thousand persons obtained deliverance from the bonds of tyrants and oppressors. Two or three days after his arrival in Samarqand he bade farewell to this evanescent world,⁶⁶ and was buried beside his noble ancestors. The Khāja's dignity is so high^66a that there is no necessity to attempt to establish it by a recital of the wonders and miracles ^41. worked by that essence of perfect qualities. The writer of these lines saw from afar the comliness of the holy Khāja when he came to bid farewell to the Khalīfah of the age, on the occasion when the Imperial Camp, at the time of its return from Patna^66b had arrived^66c in the district of Bhūṅgāoṅ and Paṭiyālī^66d but I did not attain to the happiness of attending^66e on him, or to the good fortune of approaching^66f him. The peace of God be upon him and upon^66g his noble ancestors.

He was the disciple of his own venerable father, Shaikh Bahā'u-'d-dīn, of the Cishtī⁶⁶ⁱ order, who was, in his time, deferred to⁶⁷ by the holy men of the age. He reached the full period of man's natural life,^67a nay, he exceeded it, for his sons, being seventy or eighty years of age, attended him, likewise his grandsons, in their degrees.^67b He spent the best part of his life wholly and completely in worship and in acquiring the knowledge of God.

Although he had acquired much exoteric knowledge, yet he never gave instruction therein. He possessed to the highest degree perception of God, a keen longing after ecstatic songs and dances, and the faculty of being overcome by religious ecstasy.^67c In spite of his bodily feebleness, and constitutional weakness, and the languor which prevailed over all his limbs, which were such that he could hardly arise from his couch^67d to perform the ceremonial ablutions, the prayers and other^67e necessary acts without the assistance of his attendants, yet, whenever he heard the strains^67f of holy song he would arise in ecstasy and would involuntarily^67g join in the dance, with such violenee and strength that several persons could not, by their bodily power, restrain him.^67h Similarly in the case of the ritual prayers, he would perform the recitation of the sayings of Muḥammad and the supererogatory prayers⁶⁷ⁱ in a sitting posture, and after he had been lifted up and had been placed in the posture for commencing the ritual prayers⁶⁸ he performed them standing, without any need of help. And it is matter of common notoriety that miracles, which came as naturally to him as eating and drinking, ^42. were performed by him without any ostentation. He left a numerous progeny, of auspicious disposition, and his wise sons, gray-bearded men, used to sit on either side of him in his illustrious assembly, for the purpose of receiving instruction, in such numbers that he who entered would be in doubt as to which was the holy Shaikh and which were his offspring. He compiled so many treatises of his sayings regarding the divine law, the path of holiness, and the Truth, that they are beyond the reckoning of ordinary people, nay of most of those who are specially endowed,^68a nor can the hand of any imperfect and lewd person even touch the skirt of the interpreter of those divine secrets.

The following fact (also) gave rise to suspicion, namely, that when the Khalīfah of the Age led his forces on the second occasion against Jaunpūr,^68b with a view to repelling and overthrowing his enemies, and there yet remained a three days' journey between the Imperial camp and Jaunpūr, the Shaikh died in the city,^68c drawing over the face of his existence the veil of concealment from this transitory world, and becoming thereby the verifier of (the text):—“Nay, rather, they are living in the sight of their Lord.”^68d

The writer of these pages never had the honour of waiting upon that pattern for the world.^68e

His death occurred in the year H. 970 (A.D. 1562-3) and the words “Shaikh Adhan”⁶⁹ were found to give the date of his death.

A‘ẓampūr^69a is a pargana town in the Sarkār of Sambal. The Shaikh was the disciple of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Quddūs, of the Cishtī order.^69b He was perfect both in form and in inward qualities. He underwent severe discipline and strove^69c much in the way of holy endeavour. Divine grace was his companion in the following of the footsteps of the holy seal of prophecy,^69d —may God bless and give peace to him and his family! He used very soon to obtain influence over any one who was thrown into his company, and how little adaptable soever a student might be, the attractions of the Shaikh would carry him beyond himself and would make him, even against his will,^69e inclined to the Shaikh's service.

The Shaikh spent most of his time in giving instruction in religious knowledge. His eloquent words were peace to the turbulent heart, and his wonder working tongue balm to the ^43. longing soul. In beauty of form and sweetness of disposition he was chief among his contemporaries. He received disciples and exhorted and advised the people. He wrote treatises on the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs. In truth there can be no manner of doubt as to the Shaikh's perfections of body and mind. After planting his footsteps within the circumference of (what is understood by the saying) “Octogenarians are God's own freed men,”^69f he took his departure, in the course of the year H. 985 (A.D. 1577-8) for the eternal mansions, and was buried in A‘ẓampūr. May God magnify his dignity!

He was descended^70a of the line of ‘Alī, but he was not wont to proclaim his descent, on account of his being a foreigner.^70b He was one of the greatest of the learned men of the age, excelling in devotion, piety, and holy endeavour,^70c turning not aside from the path of the law, and, firmly seated in the corner of contentment, was constantly occupied in giving religious^70d instruction. His grasp of all branches of knowledge, both of those which demand the exercise of the reasoning faculty and of those which depend upon the memory,^70e was such that there was hardly a standard work, from light treatises on accidence^70f to books of law and medicine and the commentary on the Miftāḥ^70g and the ‘Aẓudī^70h

which he had not either written a commentary on or annotated, and the people were continually profited by his auspicious sayings, God, may He be praised, is known by his epithet, “the Healer,” and He made the Miyāṅ a manifestation of that name, so that every day the sick and afflicted, in countless numbers,⁷¹ used to wait upon him and beseech him to pray for them, and would speedily experience the effects of that prayer. He never went of his own accord to the houses of worldly men, but only once or twice in the course of his life, and then in obedience to a summons, and unwillingly.^71a He did not even leave^71b his house and private masjid for the Friday congregational prayers.

His house was the resort of the greatest and best men of the age. In his dress and mode of life he was in no way distinguished from the common people, and contented himself with coarse raiment, distributing in charity whatever he received by way of alms.

He received his religious instruction from Shaikh Muḥammad ^44. Ghauṯ^71c and followed his rule, although he had been the accredited disciple of another. He completed his studies with the Shaikh, drinking deeply and with relish of the fount of Ṣūfī-ism.

When Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ went from Hindūstān to Gujarāt, in the reign of Sulṭān Maḥmūd of Gujarāt,^71d Shaikh ‘Alī Mutaqqī,^71e one of the greatest Shaikhs, most influential religious leaders and greatest sages of that time, wrote a fatwā^71f

for the execution of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ, and the Sulṭān abrogated it⁷² at the instance^72a of Miyāṅ Vajīhu-'d-Dīn. When Miyāṅ Vajīhu-'d-Dīn went on the first occasion to the Shaikh's house he was powerfully attracted by his face, and tore up the fatwā,^72b and Shaikh ‘Alī came, beside himself (with rage), to the Miyāṅ's house, and rent his clothes and said, “Why do you assent to the spread of heresy, and to a schism in the faith?”^72c He answered, “We follow the letter and the Shaikh the spirit.^72d Our understanding cannot reach his perfections and (even), as far as the letter of the law^72e goes, no exception, by which he could be pronounced blameworthy, can be taken^72f to him.” And this was the cause of the great faith which the Sulṭāns and rulers of Gujarāt had in Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ, and of his deliverance from that position of peril. (The Miyāṅ) from that time repeatedly said in assemblies, “one ought to obey the letter of the law after the manner of Shaikh ‘Alī Mutaqqī,^72g and the spirit^72h after the manner of my spiritual guide” (i.e., Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ.) Miyāṅ Vajīhu-'d-Dīn passed away from this abode of gloom in the year H. 998 (A.D. 1589-90) and the words “Shaikh Vajīhu-'d-Dīn”⁷³ were found to give the date of his death: may God turn him towards acceptance!

I may explain that I never had an opportunity of waiting on these four honourable men, and that what I have written of them is only what I have been able to learn incidentally.^73a

The Niyāzīs^73c are a tribe of Afghāns. Miyāṅ ‘Abdu-'llāh was at first the disciple of Shaikh Salīm-i-Cishtī^73d of Fatḥpūr. He used to remain always engaged in his religious duties in the cell close to the Shaikh's new hospice, which is now known as the royal place of worship.^73e When Shaikh Salīm^73f returned from his first pilgrimage to the holy places, which he had made by land, Miyāṅ ‘Abdu-'llāh asked his leave to make a pilgrimage to the glorious city of Makkah, and the Shaikh wrote and gave to him a memorandum containing an account of the Shaikhs and men of God whom he had met in the countries of Arabia, Persia, and India, and the Miyāṅ, travelling through most of those regions, sought out those various classes of holy men.

In company with the friends of Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad (may God sanctify his soul!) who had⁷⁴ set up a claim to being the Mahdī and^74a had travelled to Gujarāt and the Dakhan, the Miyāṅ at last adopted those opinions,^74b and in the reign of Salīm Shāh, spent his time, in the manner already mentioned,^74c in Biyāna, in the corner of obscurity and retirement, living without pretensions and without ceremony, being, like ordinary men, free from encumbrances and attachments. And when Islem (Salīm) Shāh, as has been mentioned in the case of Shaikh ‘Alā'ī of Biyāna—may God have mercy upon him!—bitterly persecuted him, being prompted thereto by Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk, and had him severely beaten, with a view to preventing him (from preaching his doctrines),^74d he again set forth on his wanderings, travelling in various parts of the world, and in the latter years of his life he abandoned (his belief in Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad's) claim to being the Mahdī, and, retreating^74e into a corner of retirement in Sirhind, followed the same mode of life as other holy men. When the Emperor rebuilt that cell which was near the Imperial palace he named it the ‘ibādat-khāna (place of worship), and, the name of Miyāṅ ‘Abdu-'llāh being mentioned in connection with it, he was summoned from Sirhind, and had a personal interview with the Emperor, no other person being present, and ^46. His Majesty put questions to him.^74f The Miyāṅ, disavowing (any belief in) the Mahdawī doctrines, said, “At first the companionship of that sect seemed good to me, and I accordingly inclined to their doctrines, but after that the truth concerning the True God was revealed to me, and I recanted.” His Majesty sent him back with honour, and in the year H. 993 (A.D. 1585) at the time of the expedition to Ātak,⁷⁵ when His Majesty reached Sirhind, he again sent for the Miyāṅ, and offered him some land as madad-i-ma‘āsh,^75a but he, making contentment his title-deed, ^75b would not accept it, but the Emperor had the grant made out, whether the Miyāṅ would or no, and had it delivered to him, and he, obeying the Emperor's order, received the farmān, but nevertheless forsook not his habit of relying on God alone, and did not in any way concern himself with the grant throughout his life. He made the books Iḥyā^75c and Kīmiyā^75d the guides of his actions. In the year in which Ulugh Mīrzā's rebellion took place I was with Muḥammad Ḥusain Khān. I saw the Miyāṅ in Sirhind, and he gave me some profitable lessons from^75e the Iḥyā, which he had with him.^75f A friend of his, named Maḥmūd Khān, who had been intimate with him since the days of Islem (Salīm) Shāh, and to whom Shaikh Mubārak, at the time of the persecution^75g of Shaikh ‘Alā'i had given the title of Saifu-'llāh (“the sword of God”), asked him, “What is the heart?”^75h

He replied, “Between us and the heart lie a thousand stages. Why do you ask about this matter? Say something on ethics.” Afterwards, à propos of the mention of Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpūr (may God sanctify his soul!) he brought forward an old Mughal and asked him to say what he knew of the Sayyid.⁷⁶ He said, “At the time of the death of the holy Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpūr I was present in Farāh,^76a when he withdrew his claim to being the Mahdī, and said, ‘I am not the promised Mahdī.’”⁷⁷ God knows (the truth). In the meantime Maḥmūd Khān said softly “Miyāṅ ‘Abdu-'llāh did wonderfully well in sending the unfortunate Shaikh ‘Alā'ī to his death, while he himself retraced his steps.”^77a

Miyāṅ ‘Abdu-'llāh removed the baggage (of existence) from this borrowed^77b lodging to the neighbourhood of Divine Providence (may his dignity be honoured!) at the age of 90, in the year H. 1000 (A.D. 1591-2). May God grant him a dwelling in ^47. the highest heaven!

He was the son-in-law of the reverend Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad^77c of Jaunpūr (may God sanctify his honoured tomb!), but he never saw the Mīr^77d and his connection with him by marriage did not occur until after the Mīr's death. He was a man of very high position and dignity, endowed with perfections. He was firm and unshaken in his adherence to the doctrines of the Mahdawī sect, holding to them resolutely, since, when he was in the honoured city of Makkah and in Gujarāt, the closest bond of friendship existed between him and Shaikh Gadā'ī.^77e In the time of Bairām Khān, the Khān-i-Khānān,^77f he came to Āgra in connection with some important business, but in a short time that terrible disaster⁷⁸ occurred, and the Shaikh returned to Gujarāt. When I was a student I waited on the Shaikh for half a night in the quarter of Shaikh Bahā'u-'d-dīn Muftī (may God have mercy on him!), on the far side^78a of the river at Āgra, on the introduction of Maulānā ‘Abdu-'llāh of Qandahār, the relative of Ḥājī Mahdī of Lāhōr. He was sitting alone in a bare room, busily employed in reading^78b this tradition of the prophet, (may God bless him and save him!):—“No number of people shall sit together to mention God but that angels shall surround them, and the mercy of God cover them, and tranquillity^78c come upon them; and God remembers them as men who are with Him.” He translated that saying and I received instruction in the ecstatic worship of the Ṣūfīs,^78d and was employed for some time therein, and experienced a wonderful and^78e strange accession of divine grace, and the (inner) meaning of the Qur'ān was disclosed to me, and for some time^78f my condition was such that I believed every sound and voice which fell upon my ears to be the mystic chanting of the Ṣūfīs. I saw some of the Shaikh's disciples who, to guard themselves from talking foolishly,⁷⁹ had (literally) glued their lips together, some of them (for the same reason) had pebbles in their mouths.

The year of the Shaikh's death, and where and when it occurred, are not known. (May God remember him to his good!)

He was one of the spiritual successors of Miyāṅ Shaikh Dā'ūd,^79a (may God sanctify his tomb!) In his activity (in traversing the path of righteousness) he surpassed all his contemporaries, and he was one of the most wonderful works of God^79b (be He praised!). In his love for his spiritual guide he was beside himself, and attained to such an intimate relationship with his holy personality that one might say that the two persons were one clear truth expressed^79c in two well turned phrases. Neither the dust of dependent existence nor the soil of potential existence^79d besmirched the skirt of his robe, and at the mere sight of him thoughts of God (may He be honoured and glorified!) cast their rays on each black and thoughtless heart, and the pain of searching after God infected all who saw him. He called no^79e one to his presence with the exception of two or three friends who had been intimate associates^79f of the holy Miyāṅ (may God sauctify his soul!) and who had their dwelling in Lāhōr; nor was he solicitous to receive disciples. He always lived in privacy in a dark cell, which was situated in a garden, and at times, when an intense longing for the holy Miyāṅ overcame him he would go on foot in one day from Lāhōr to Shīrgaṛh, a distance of over forty kurūh,⁸⁰ and after merely kissing the Miyāṅ's threshold he would return, without breaking his journey, unable to endure the effulgence of the Miyaṅ's luminous presence.^80a

In the year already mentioned^80b I was honoured by being enabled to pay my respects to that venerable and most worthy man, and was his guest for a day and a night. On the next day, I set out alone, save for one attendant on foot,^80c when the disturbances were at their height, for Shīrgaṛh. I was stopped by Jāts^80d and highwaymen, who surrounded me on every side, and they were astonished (at my rashness) and asked me whither I was going, alone in this perilous desert. So soon as I said that I had just taken my leave of Miyāṅ Shaikh Abū Isḥāq with a view of paying my respects to my reverend spiritual guide, the Miyāṅ (may God ^49. have mercy on them both!) they, immediately they heard the auspicious names of those two holy men, submitted themselves to me, and brought me milk and curds and such like refreshments, and set me on my way, and warned me to be cautious and wary, urging me to make frequent mention of the name of the holy Miyāṅ in my religious exercises,⁸¹ as he had endeared himself to all the people of that country, both gentle and simple. Thus, at last, I returned in safety^81a to the place whither I was bound, as has been already stated.^81b

In the year in which the holy Miyāṅ removed the pavilion (of his existence) from this transitory world and pitched it in the kingdom of eternity, and very shortly after his death, there was a plague in the Panjāb; and all his associates,^81c his family, and his most noted spiritual successors and representatives, who numbered fifty or^81d sixty souls, perfect and perfected, among whom was “the interpreter of secrets,” Miyāṅ ‘Abdu-'l-Wahhāb, also known as Miyāṅ Bābū, with one accord, as though by appointment, successively and each in his due turn, joined the holy Miyāṅ (in the next world) in the space of three or four months, as it pleased God. (This was the case of those intimately connected with him), but what shall I say of his sincere pupils disciples, and attendants at large? Miyāṅ Shaikh Abū Isḥāq, too, owing to the greater intimacy of his connection with the Miyāṅ, sped from the desert of separation to the true Ka‘bah⁸² of union and propinquity. “Some of them have fulfilled their vow and others of them await its fulfilment.”^82a Ah, Khāja, it may be

He who afterwards continued the exalted line of the Qādiriy-yah ^82c order was Shaikh ‘Abdu-'llāh, the most orthodox and noble son of the holy Miyāṅ, who, since the latter removed the baggage (of his existence) to the garden of Rīẓwān,^82d remains at present the compendium of all the perfections^82e and the successor to all the exalted qualities of Miyāṅ Shaikh Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī.^82f

The peace of God, so long as nights succeed one another,
Be on the pure Shaikh, Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī.

It is to be hoped that this garden of good fortune will aye remain fruitful—through the prophet and his honoured family.

He is the orthodox son of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Quddūs of Gangū, whose distinguished virtues and perfections are beyond the need of any comment or exposition, being sufficiently indicated and signified by the holy writings which he has compiled. Gangū is a pargana town⁸³ in^83a the confines of Thānesar.

The Shaikh was a man greatly respected, whose outward appearance bore witness to his perfections. He was a man of great authority in the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs, and followed the religious rule of the holy men of his own order, and^83b was one of those who are overcome by a mysterious longing after God and are subject to fits of religious ecstasy.^83c

He went^83d occasionally, but very seldom, to the houses of men of worldly position and rank, and never but when in need. Otherwise he remained constantly in the corner of retirement and abstraction. I, the compiler of these pages, paid my respects to him in Dihlī, at the time of Bairam Khān's rebellion,^83e in one of the assemblies of Shaikh ‘Abdu-l-‘Azīz (may God have mercy on him!). Praise be to God (therefor).

His descent was from the Bōharas,^83f a tribe in Gujarāt whose occupation is trading. By means of one of the intimate friends of Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpur (may God sanctify his soul!) he constantly followed the path of poverty and self-effacement, walking steadfastly in that way to the end of his life. When the Khalīfah of the age, after the conquest of the country of Bang,^83g reached Ajmīr on his return from Patna,⁸⁴ Āṣaf Khān II, the Mīr Bakhshī, in obedience to the Imperial order, brought him with him from Gujarāt. The Emperor, calling the ‘Ulamā together one night in the courtyard of the Hall of Audience, questioned Shaikh Muṣṭafā on the truth about the Mahdawī question, and he readily answered, and the discussion ^51. was prolonged; and Ḥājī Ibrāhīm of Sirhind,^84a in accordance with his vile disposition, was overbearing in the argument, and vexed the Shaikh; and I also related circumstantially and at length what I had found in the commentary on the Gulshan-i-Rāz,^84b a work by Shaikh Muḥammad-al-Ahjī, who was the immediate^84c disciple of Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad-i-Nūr Bakhshī,^84d who also, in his time, had set up a claim to being the Mahdī, and had brought various troubles on himself thereby. Since what I said was opposed to the Shaikh's contention it was evidently the cause of his being vexed with me. The Emperor ordered the Shaikh, after his arrival at Fatḥpūr, to stay for some days in the house of Khāja ‘Abdu-'ṣ-Ṣamad the painter, of sweet pen.⁸⁵ To make amends for my fault I waited on him with my apologies, and asked him for forgiveness. He was very feeble, and in that very assembly a basin was brought to him, and he brought up a great quantity of blood. It seems that after he received leave to depart for Gujarāt he removed the baggage (of existence) from this transitory lodging to the eternal abode, either on his way to his native land or immediately after his arrival there. This event took place in the year H. 983 (A.D. 1575-6). He is the author of works which bear witness to his separation from the world and self-effacement.^85a May God deal with him according to His graciousness.

His father's name was Shaikh Kākū, and the people of Lāhōr believe him to have been a saint.^85c He (Shaikh Isḥāq) was a profoundly learned man, resigned to God and abstinent. He never went to the houses of worldly men or begged from them. He was always teaching, and was a compendium of all branches of knowledge. He was a Ṣūfī by religion and was ever employed with the Truth (God).^85d He would not speak unless questions ^52. were put to him. One day he met in the road a contemptible wretch who gave to him an earthen pot full of rice and milk, saying, “Take this and come with me.” Without any objection or refusal he took it on his head and passed through the marketplace until he came to the place where the man lodged, and from that day forth his heart was washed clean from the guile of pride, and he was also distinguished among those learned in profane knowledge.⁸⁶ In the course of the year H. 995 (A.D. 1587) I had the honour of waiting on that reverend man, and one day I told this story, in some connection or another, to Shaikh Faiẓī,^86a who shortly afterwards received the title of Maliku-'sh-Shu‘arā^86b and he, according to his habit, which was to decry^86c all holy men,^86d past and present, and to exalt himself, began scoffingly to belittle the Shaikh, while I remained silent. I cannot say whether it was that night or some other night that I saw in a dream that Shaikh Abū-‘l-Faẓl had alighted in a plain, in an old ruin which had no more than two or three^86e walls standing. Shaikh Isḥāq was standing in the company of gunners, with a musket in his hand, just as though it were the night of the new moon and the usual custom in the Royal Court of firing off guns on the occasion were being observed. He took aim at me and fired, and the sparks fell all round me and in front of me, and^86f I awoke, terrified. The next day I took an offering to the Shaikh and it was honoured with his acceptance, and I told him what had happened to me.^86g

Owing to his great age he had lost the power of speech, but he used to raise his hand and recite the Fātiḥah, praise be to God! He was the instructor of most of the famous learned men of Lāhōr, such as Shaikh Sa‘du-‘llāh, who had no rival^86h in his time, and Shaikh Munavvar and others.

In his youth the Shaikh was inclined mostly to sport,⁸⁷ and took his delight therein, so that whenever he had leisure from study he would take his falcon and hawk and would go out hawking, traversing the ground on foot.

His venerable age exceeded one hundred years when, in the year H. 996 (A.D. 1588), he hastened away to the close com- ^53. panionship^87a of God.

One of the orthodox, noble, and bountiful pupils of Isḥāq Kākū. He has followed various rules of life. At first he was a strict observer of the holy law, but suddenly, throwing off all restraint, he committed all manner of unlawful acts, and forming an attachment to a singing girl used to roam^87b about the marketplace, for all his gray beard.

Though people heretofore did learn of me
Now love has come, my teaching days are gone.

Men used, from their firm faith in him, to apply the dust of his feet as tutty,^87c and held him to be a saint,^87d and in that capacity he used to give instruction, in the open cattle market.^87e He disposed of all the moveable property^87f of his followers, which he had with him (to satisfy the demands) of his mistress, through love of her. One night when he was drinking wine with her, a party of muḥtasibs,⁸⁸ together with the students who were his disciples, banded together and entered his house by climbing over the wall, with a view of bringing him to a proper frame of mind,^88a and, breaking all the appurtenances of unlawful and forbidden amusements^88b (which they found), wished to subject him to punishment.^88c He repeated what was said (on one occasion) to the second true Khalīfah,^88d the Prince of the true believers, ‘Umar (may God be gratified with him!). “If I have committed one unlawful act you have been guilty of three unlawful acts, and are the more deserving of punishment, for that, in order to spy upon me, and without my permission, you entered my house by climbing over the wall.”^88e The party, ashamed and abashed, left him. Afterwards, being enabled by God's grace to repent sincerely, he modelled his life on the book Iḥyā,^88f and passed his time in worship and austerities, and composed ^54. many profitable and sublime books, among them being a commentary on the Jawāhiru-'l-Qur'ān^88g by Imām Ghazzālī (may God have mercy upon him!).

When the Khalīfah of the age summoned him to a private interview he asked him, “of what race are you?” and he replied, “of the tribe of the scribes, who are called in the Hindī tongue, Kāyats.”⁸⁹ The Emperor was much pleased with this unassuming answer and held a long conversation with him. I waited on him for the first time in Lāhōr and in some connection or another he made mention of the question of the decay of Multān and the prosperity of Lāhōr, and the matter of the Sulṭāns of the Langāh family, especially Sulṭān Ḥusain,^89a speaking on these subjects in such a manner that I was astonished at the manner in which he acquitted himself, and at the elegance and polish of his style. Rarely have I heard such sweetness of diction.

He never left a beggar disappointed, and although he had no concern with commerce or husbandry, and was not in enjoyment of a subsistence allowance from the Emperor, his resources and expenditure on alms and charity were such that nobody knew whence he derived his means,⁹⁰ and the people were perplexed on this subject.^90a

On reaching the age of about eighty years he passed away from this illusory world, and great and small, in their thousands, nay more, accompanied^90b his funeral, taking up his pure bier on their heads and shoulders, with a view to obtaining blessings by so doing,^90c (and the crowd was so great that) there was not room to plant one's foot.

He was one of the benefits of the age and the blessings of the epoch. In early youth he was learning a lesson from the Būstān, and came to this couplet:—

“In the way of purity it is impossible, O Sa‘dī,
“To travel, except by following the Chosen One,”^90d

(may God bless and save him!). He asked his teacher, “What is the meaning of this couplet? Explain it to me in Hindī.” His ^55. teacher said “What business have you with this story?”^90e He replied “Until you thoroughly explain it to me I will not learn another^90f lesson.” When the meaning of it had been explained he said “Give me an account of Muḥammad, “the Chosen” (may God bless and save him!) and tell me who he is.” The teacher described to him some of the noble qualities and wondrous works of his holiness (may God bless him and save him), and, as soon as he heard the description, the mystic attraction of the Lord seized on him, and, rending his shirt, he uttered the creed of Islām.⁹¹ When his parents heard of this they recognized that he had declared himself free of them and renouneed them,^91a and could not properly return to their care, so that they, of necessity, relinquished all claim to him, and he, journeying from Sāmāna,^91b the home of his ancestors, employed himself in reading the Qur'ān, in making himself acquainted with God's commands, and in the pursuit of knowledge. At last, joining himself to a band of famous sages and great saints he became one of the greatest sages of the age, and placing his hand in the hand of Miyāṅ Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Bāqī-yi-Cishtī of Badāon (may God give rest to his soul!) he became his disciple, and received instruction from his in the mystic worship of the Ṣūfīs. Subsequently he attended upon Shaikh Ṣafī of Khairābād^91c (may God sanctify his honoured tomb!) and others, and, employing himself in austerities and in striving after holiness, attained perfection. He acquired the blessing of knowledge from most of the noted masters^91d of his time, especially from Miyāṅ Shaikh Lādan^91e of Dihlī and from Mīr Sayyid Jalāl of Badāon, and after the death of the latter, whose sins are forgiven, he became his successor and taught and imparted instruction for many years in Badāon, and many well-known sages, who have become famous, sat at his feet. People from the surrounding country and from the utmost parts of (other) countries by waiting upon him attain eternal felicity.

Latterly the mysterious attraction of God has overpowered him, and he appears at meetings for ecstatic singing and dancing,^91f

and from the excessive influence of his longing and desire after ^56. God⁹² he utters soul-melting cries and heart-searing shrieks and falls^92a a-trembling, and advances some paces, though there be at the time no ecstatic dance in progress, and crying out, at the same time, the lā ḥaul^92b he returns to his place and remains standing there.

His unceremoniousness and unpretentiousness are such that he goes on foot, like his predecessors and successors, to the shop and to the market to buy household goods, whether in small or large quantities, and to purchase all necessary supplies for his kitchen, which he may need, and carries them back to where he dwells. On the way, too, he teaches a number of his students, and howsoever much they may say “Master, there is no need for you to trouble yourself in this way, we will perform this duty,”^92c he does not consent thereto. His auspicious appearance bears witness to his poverty and self-effacement, and, notwithstanding his having received permission to impart religious instruction, and documents appointing him a recognized deputy from (various) holy men, he is not devoted to the usual system of Shaikhs and their disciples,^92d but on the contrary, carefully avoids it. Clad in the garb of holy men and the vesture of religious leaders he remained cloaked and concealed in his robe.^92e

When I was reading, under his instruction, the commentary on the Ṣaḥā'if fï-'l-Kalām^92f and the Taḥqīq fī uṣūli-'l- fiqh,⁹³ notwithstanding that a class of pupils^93a of copious attainments and students of clear intellect were also engaged in study, and brought subtil difficulties for his elucidation, I never saw him, in the course of his teaching, to be under the necessity of referring to a book for the purpose of solving those questions and obscure subtilties, for whatever he had once seen he had on the tip of his tongue, and he had acquired^93b the habit of great readiness, being assisted thereto by God.^93c He is now in his ninetieth year, and will, please God, who is honoured, attain to the natural limit of man's age.

He was a man mysteriously attracted to God and walking in the way of the law.^93e His ancestors came from Multān, and settled in Qannauj, an old and famous city of Hindūstān. After devoting himself to the carrying out of the religious obligations imposed on devout Muslims he experienced a ^57. mysterious attraction to God, but none the less⁹⁴ left no jot or tittle of the pure law unobserved. At times, when overcome by religious ecstasy, he would blacken his face and, hanging the string of a bedstead round his neck, and would wander through the market-places uttering doleful and mournful cries; and he had many unusual observances such as these. One day, when he had completed the Friday prayers in the Masjid-i-Ḥayy, I waited on him. He got up and went to visit the old obliterated tombs of his noble ancestors, which were in the courtyard of the masjid, and at each^94a grave he recited the fātiḥah,^94b and told^94c one of his attendants who conversed with him the story of the life of the occupant of the grave, and after telling separately the stories of each of those holy men, he fell into a reverie, and when his reverie was over he put to that attendant a question from the Farā'iẓ.^94d The attendant replied, “If a man dies, and leaves as his heirs one son and one daughter, the son receives two-thirds of the property left by the deceased, and the daughter one-third.” The Shaikh listened to him with approval and then, without saying another word,^94e left the place. It afterwards became known^94f that the Shaikh observed that practice in accordance with that tradition, pregnant with meaning, the substance of which is that if a question from the Farā'iẓ be recited over a tomb, and a statement of the shares of inheritance be made, all the people lying buried there are, by virtue of the recitation of that portion of the law, forgiven their sins.⁹⁵ The Shaikh never failed to observe this practice on Fridays.

He was a Ḥusainī^95c Sayyid, and in early life followed the military profession.^95d Suddenly, leaving the service, he adopted the occupation of a water-carrier, and at night used to carry water to the houses of chaste and secluded widows,^95e and used to take water to the people free of charge, until he experienced a mysterious attraction towards God, when he gave up all employment, and, abandoning his own free-will, no longer spoke at all, in the way of conversation, but was ever longing for dissolution. ^58.

I passed from Thy street supporting myself in my weakness
with my hand against the wall,
Thou camest in Thy glory, and I was struck motionless as a
picture on the wall.^95f

He chose for his dwelling a house in the lower market of Gwāliyār,^95g and always remained there, and passed all his time with his head drooping in meditation. If any question occurred to the minds of those who were present with him he would answer it, after the manner of those who are mysteriously drawn to God, as though he were raving in a delirium,^95h and would solve the difficulty, and he would recount what was passing at a distance.⁹⁶ He always passed the night in a standing posture, sometimes weeping and sometimes laughing.

I have heard from his confidants^96a that on one occasion a Sayyid came from a foreign country and asked the Shaikh to prove his claim to being a Sayyid.^96b The Shaikh ordered firewood to be brought, and a large fire to be lighted, and then, taking the man by the hand, said, “Come, let us both enter the fire,

The Sayyid held aloof, but Shaikh Kapūr, entering the fire, came out of it without hurt; and many other similar miracles are related of him. All accounts of him agree in this respect. For the sake of brevity I have related only this much.

^96d In the course of the year H. 979 (A.D. 1571-2) he ran out one night shouting “Strike, strike!”^96e and fell from over the door of his house, and surrendered his life to God. Shaikh Faiẓī found the date of his death in the words “Kapūr-i-Majẕūb .”^96f

Garmaktesar is a pargana town on the banks of the Ganges, in the Sarkār of Sambal. He lived for forty years in poverty and contentment, employed in imparting religious instruction to students. He was noted for his resignation, and companionship with him caused one to think of God.

In his seventieth year he journeyed to Sambal⁹⁷ for pleasure, ^59. and an old woman, the widow of the late Shaikh Banjū of Sambal, she being devout and given to fasting, the fourth (perfect woman)^97a of her age, having lived for thirty-five years without a husband, never breaking her fast save with milk, privately sought to become his disciple, and asked him to shew her the way of God. He sent an answer to her to this effect, “Until thou obey the law of his holiness the best of men,^97b (on him and on his family be blessing and salutation from God), and enter the bonds of matrimony,^97c it is in vain for thee to ask concerning this path,^97d and to speak of it.” She at once entered her travelling litter, and waited on him, and was married to him, and shortly afterwards both of them journeyed to the next world.^97e

I waited on that reverend man in company with one of my friends, by name Sayyid Qāsim, who was one of the noblest of the Sayyids of Dihli, and found him pleasant in companionship and likewise in speech. When a basin and ewer were brought for us to wash our hands he said, “Begin with that Sayyid, for ‘One who is of the family of Hāshim^97f has a better right to precedence.’”

He is one of the grandsons of Shāh Isma‘īl-i-Ṣafavi.^98a He is a great master of exorcism, practises many austerities and strives much in the path of holiness, breaking his fast always with some coarse burnt barley bread and bitter herbs, which none but himself can bear to eat. He walks steadfastly in the straight path of the holy law, and recites the āẕān^98b at the five times of prayer, in the very portico^98c of Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl, at the Imperial Court, fearing nobody. Many miracles are related of him, one of them being as follows. He will throw a round piece of paper into a chafing-dish, with the fire burning therein, and will take out of the chafing-dish coined ashrafīs^98d and distribute them to the company, how many soever they be. They say that he ^60. will come out of a locked room, just as bodies are transported from place to place, and will appear elsewhere. On one occasion he came from Gujarāt to the city of Lāhōr and gave to the people winter fruits in the summer time and summer fruits in the winter time. The ‘ulamā of the Panjāb, the chief of whom was Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk,^98e raised objections to what he was doing, and said, “It is evident that this fruit comes from some people's orchards, and that he has possessed himself of it without the owners' permission, and to eat it⁹⁹ is unlawful.” As he was not well received in that country, he went to Kashmīr, and ‘Alī Khān,^99a the ruler of that land believed firmly in him, and gave him his daughter in marriage, but, when he discovered that Shaikh ‘Ārit was setting up some claim or another,^99b he demanded his daughter's dowry back again, and took a deed of divorce from her husband; and the Shāh^99c went thence to Tibat, and there also, they say, he performed many miracles, one of them being that he shook a tree, and quantities of dirhams and dīnārs^99d fell from it. In this manner he exhibited great supernatural power, in Gujarāt, Hindūstān,^99e Kashmīr, and Tibat, and wherever he went attempts were made on his life, and he travelled from country to country.

On the first occasion on which the Emperor made a tour from Kashmir to Kābul the Shāh came to see him in the course of that journey, and the Emperor appointed persons to have charge of him, who should not let him go out of their sight.^99f And sometimes, when he came into the Emperor's presence, his Majesty would place musk, and camphor, and other perfumes in a golden cup, and present it to the Shaikh as a gift, but however much he said “Accept from¹⁰⁰ me some gold, or some land,” the Shaikh would reply, “Bestow^100a the gold upon your Aḥadīs,^100b for they are in sorry case. What should I do with it?” When I saw the Shāh in company with Qalīj Khān, in the portico^100c of Shaikh Abū-‘l-Faẓl, under whose protection the Shāh was,^100d I standing on the parapet of a roof which overlooked his cell, he had his face covered with a veil, and was writing, and was saying ^61. to one who was with him, “It was this Qalīj Khān who said, ‘I am Qalīj, your slave and servant.’”^100e It is probable that the Shaikh had been accustomed to veil his face for a long time, and it was said that he possibly did so to avoid being recognized when he travelled from place to place—but God knows the truth. I heard from a trusted and intimate associate of the Shaikh that one day in Kashmīr the Emperor sent Shaikh Abū-‘l-Faẓl and Ḥakīm Abū-‘l-Fatḥ^100f to wait upon the Shāh, and one of them,^100g agreeably to the Emperor's order, said, “Shāh how would it be if you were to raise your veil, so that I might see your comeliness?” He would not comply and said, “I am a poor beggar; let me alone, and vex me no more.”^100h The Ḥakīm, with his usual impudence and insolence,¹⁰¹ stretched forth his hand, and endeavoured to pull off the veil. The Shāh objected, and becoming^101a angry said, “God forbid! I am not leprous or deformed; behold! See my face!” and he rent the collar of his garment and threw the veil from his face on to the ground, and said. “Ḥakīm, you have now seen my face, but, please God, the honoured One, you shall, in the space of a fortnight,^101b see what the outcome of this matter will be.” Fifteen days had not passed when the Ḥakīm, in the course of that very journey, died of the complaint of hepatic diarrhœa.^101c And countless other miracles of this sort are related of the Shaikh.

One day the Emperor said to him, “Shāh, either become like me, or make me like yourself.” He answered, “How can we, who have abandoned worldly objects,^101d become like you? If you will come and sit beside us, in order that you may become even as us.”

He possessed sublime perfections^101f of nature and manifested miraculous powers, and gave clear proofs (of his sanctity).^101g He was one of God's most wondrous works, and many miracles are ^62. related of him. Notwithstanding the glorious position and exalted degree (as a saint) to which he attained he would sometimes declare holy mysteries and sacred truths in verse,^101h and this opening couplet by him is the admiration of the world:—

“I know not what colour and scent that smiling¹⁰¹ⁱ rose hath,
“With which the birds of every meadow hold converse.”

And he has composed a tarjī‘-band¹⁰² of which this is the refrain:—

“View with the eyes of thy heart nothing except the Friend,
“Whatsoever thou seest regard as a manifestation of Him.”

And Shaikh ‘Irāqī (may God^102a sanctify his soul!) has said on the same subject:—

Refrain.

“The world is outward show; its reality is the Friend,
“If thou lookest to reality, He is everything.”^102b

And another has said:—

Refrain.

“The world is a ray from the Face of the Friend,
“All things existing are the shadow of Him.”

And I have written the following:—

Refrain.

“He is the kernel of the world, the world is nought but the
shell,
“But what of kernel and of shell, when all things are He?”^102c

Many of the holy men of the time have sat at the Mīr's feet,^102d one of them being his own worthy son, Mīr Sayyid Māhrū who walks in the footsteps of his illustrious father. Another was Mīr Sayyid ‘Alī-yi-Nalharī,^102e who was subject to overpowering fits of religious ecstasy, and always remained secluded, and in whom a wonderful degree of religious poverty and separation from the world¹⁰³ was apparent. He spoke wonderfully well on the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs. I, in company with Ḥusain Khān,^{103a 63.} waited on him^103b in Kānt u Gūla^103c in the sarkār of Sambal, and received much profit from his precious utterances;—praise be to God therefor!

Mir Sayyid ‘Alī used always to say in his prayers, “O God! make me a martyr!” Accordingly on one occasion some of the robbers of that town, which is a noted den of thieves, entered the Mīr's house at midnight, and an outcry was raised. The Mīr, notwithstanding his ninety years of age and his bodily feebleness, seized an iron mace, and shouting out “Allāh, Allāh!” followed the thieves, wounding and sending to hell one or two of them. At last an arrow struck him in a vital spot, and he attained the rank of a martyr. This event occurred in the year H. 998 (A.D. 1589-90), and the words, “What has happened to that perfect spiritual guide?”^103d were found to give the date.

He is the grandson of Malik Ādam, the Kākar,^103f who was one of the nobles of Sulṭān Sikandar, and Ibrāhīm Lōdī.^103g He lived always by the tomb of his grandfather. The tomb of Malik Ādam is of the length of two ordinary tombs or more.

Shaikh Ḥamzah was powerfully affected by a mysterious attraction towards God. He was of commanding presence and great stature, and from time to time he took walks in the city, striding along like a tiger, and carrying stones in his hand, which he would throw around him in all directions, never, however, hitting anybody with them. He recited very sweetly, and was always reading the glorious Qur'ān. He paid great attention to any person whom he considered to be well disposed, summoning such to his presence. God be praised that I was one of them. He used to read omens. For the rest, most people were terrified by his behaviour,¹⁰⁴ and would not frequent his society, lest some evil should happen to them.

He was also a native of Lakhnau. He used to live secluded in a cave in the forest, in the banks of the river Kūdī,^104a remote from any habitation and so concealed that nobody could find the way thither. He broke his fast (no oftener than) once in every week, after the Friday prayers. In his house there was a decrepit old man who used to bring to him for his meal a fragment of dry bread and some of the fruit of a plantain tree, which (the Shaikh) had planted with his own hand. If anyone had embarked on an arduous enterprise he would come at that appointed time^104b and sit at the door of the Shaikh's cell, but the Shaikh would never speak.^104c

When Ḥusain Khān was governor of Lakhnau I went with a friend named ‘Abdu-'r-Rahmān, who was Ḥusain Khān's deputy, to endeavour to obtain an interview with the Shaikh. We found him nothing but skin, as it were, stretched over bones, and great snakes darted their heads out of their holes both within and without the cave. One of those present was terrified and would have struck at them with his staff, but the Shaikh forbad him by a sign, and said, “What have they taken from you?”

When we asked the little old man concerning him he told us that he had dwelt in that desolate spot for more than thirty years and that the snakes had become quite tame from being with him and never injured anybody. When we were bidding him farewell he made a sign to all of those present to take some fragments of bread, several days old, and some dried fruit, which he had before him, and my friend offered him a piece of gold which he would not accept. These two¹⁰⁵ holy men died very shortly after that time.

Sikandra^105a is a town in the Doāb. The Shaikh was one who was mysteriously drawn to God and was subject to fits of religious ecstasy. For fifty years after leaving the public service he lived as a recluse, withdrawn from all people, ever and persist- ^65. ently seated in devotional seclusion, and visited nobody. When I waited on him in the year 974 (A.D. 1566-67) he asked me the meaning of this couplet of Khṿāja Ḥāfiẓ:—

“God's forgiveness is greater than our sin.
Why utterest thou obscure sayings? Hold thy peace.”

I asked him where the difficulty was and he said, “As it was he himself that uttered the obscure saying why did he command silence?” I asked him to explain the couplet and he said, “It occurs to me that the obscure saying may be this, that even our sins are part of His creation, and to say this is to transgress.” I remained silent, and he then in like manner commented on the following verse:—

“And serve thy Lord till the certainty overtake thee.”^105b

He said, “The word ◌ (‘till’) signifies the extreme limit, but there can be no question of an extreme limit here, but apparently this limit might have reference to the second person singular, to which it would be possible to apply it.” God knows what his meaning was; and that was the last conversation that we had together.

Bilgrām¹⁰⁶ is a dependency of Qaunauj. He is a most learned and accomplished man, much given to austerities and devotions. He has a sublime disposition and attractive qualities, and he follows a sublime religious rule. He used formerly to indulge in ecstatic exercises and sing ecstatic songs in Hindī and fall into trances, but he is now past all this. He has written an appreciative commentary on the Nuzhatu-'l-arwāḳ,^106a and many treatises on the technical terms of the Ṣufīs, one of them named Sanābil,^{106b 66.} and many other able compositions besides. Although he is the disciple of another he has profited much by the company of Shaikh Ḥusain of Sikandra, and used to come every year from Bilgrām for the Shaikh's annual festival, but now that he suffers from defective sight he cannot go there and is settled in Qaunauj.

In the year 977 (A.D. 1569-70), when I arrived in Bilgrām from Lucknow, the Shaikh came to visit me, on my sick bed,^106c and his was the first visit that had on my wounds the effect of ointment, and he said, “These wounds are the roses of love.” It so happened that at the same time the venerable Shaikh ‘Abdu'llāh Badāonī came there, like an invisible spirit, from Badāon, and I am convinced that if ever in my life I experienced a “night of power”^106d it was that night. The Mir has a genius for poetry and he wrote of a witty, beloved and acceptable friend named Rājā the following couplet:

“Thoughts of thee have made my heart their throne,
Never will my heart have room for any but thee.”

Do not depart in anger (lit. quarrel) as thou comest first in peace.

For a moment do thou sit with kindness, so that I may get out of my own self.

Besides those learned men whom the author has met, the large number of those whom he has not seen, but who are well known in all parts of the land, exceeds the bounds of computation and the limits of enumeration. Of those whom the author has known one is that master of masters, Shaikh Ḥātim of Sambhal.

He was the pupil of Miyāṅ ‘Azīzu-'llāh of Ṭalamba.^109a Taking him in all he had no equal in this generation as a sage versed both in those branches of knowledge which demand the exercise of the reasoning faculty, and in those which demand the exercise of the memory, but especially in scholastic theology, (Quranic) exegesis, practical theology, and Arabic literature. It used to be said that he had, in the course of teaching, gone through the commentary ⁶⁷ on the Miftāḥ^109b and the Muṭawwal,^109c from the bā of Bīsmi-'llāh to the tā of “tammata,” nearly forty times, and that he had gone through all other advanced works (on theology) as often. He used to tell Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk that he had no rival in disputation. When Mullā ‘Alā'u-'d-dīn Lārī took to the Miyāṅ, with the greatest assurance, his notes on the commentary on the ‘Aqā'id-i-Nasafi,^109d the Miyāṅ, after perusing them, discussed the matter with such minuteness of detail that Mullā ‘Alā'u-'d-dīn was unable to answer him.

In scholastic theology the greatest of the Imāms¹¹⁰ (on him be the mercy of God!) was inferior to the Miyāṅ. The Miyāṅ was an ascetic and strove much in the way of holiness, and was pious and devout, although he sat in the seat of honour and dignity, exercising absolute authority.

When I, in the time of Bairam Khān,^110a the Khān-Khānān, reentered the service of the Miyāṅ in Āgra, after an interval of five years, I delivered to him a request for a decision on a point of theology from Shaikh Mubārak^110b of Nāgōr, from whom I was at that time receiving instruction. After inquiring of me how I had done during the time of my separation from him, the Miyāṅ said, “What sort of a religious teacher is Shaikh Mubārak?” I told him what I knew of the Shaikh's conduct as a Mullā, of his piety, his poverty, his striving in the path of holiness, and his commands and prohibitions in religious matters which in those days he took upon himself to issue, declaring them to be binding. He replied, “Yes, indeed. I also have heard him well spoken of, but they say that he holds the Mahdawī doctrines. Is this true?” I said, “He believes Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaun-pūr ^110c (may his tomb be sanctified!) to have been a great saint, but does not believe him to have been the Mahdī.” He replied, “What doubt can there be regarding the perfections of the Mīr?” Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad, Mīr-i-‘Adl,^110d now deceased and pardoned, who was a pupil of the Miyāṅ, was also present; and he said, “Why do they call Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpūr the Mahdī?” I told him that it was on account of his assumption of the authority to issue authoritative orders and prohibitions in religious matters. Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad again questioned me, saying, “Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Ḥayy of Khurāsān,^110e who held the title of Ṣadr for some time, one day spoke ill of the Shaikh to the Khān-i-Khānān. Do you know the reason of this?” I said, “The ⁶⁸ Shaikh wrote him a note, giving him advice on various religious matters, and among other things advised him to attend prayers with the Sunnī congregation in the Masjid-i-Ḥayy.¹¹¹ This offended ‘Abdu-'l-Ḥayy, and he attributed this advice to the Shaikh being a Mahdawī, and supposed that he was reproaching him with heresy.” Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad said, “This deduction of the Mīr with regard to his own heresy depends upon this syllogism, ‘You do not join in the congregational prayers: everybody who does not join in the congregational prayers is a schismatic: therefore you are a schismatic.’ But the major proposition is inadmissible. And likewise the syllogism, ‘The Shaikh assumes the power of issuing authoritative commands; anybody who issues authoritative commands is the Mahdī, etc., is unsound.’” The Miyāṅ then said, “I will seal this application for a decision,^111a but I will retain it in the same manner^111b as I have retained another application for a decision which was sent to me under the seal of some of the elders of this place, and in respect of which I have some doubts. Now do you take this to Shaikh Bahā'u-'d-dīn, who is an accepted muftī, and say to him that my excuse of lack of books of reference, owing to my being on a journey, is perfectly comprehensible, but that, as to the tradition on which he has authenticated that (other) fatwā, it will be well if he sends me his original authenticated fatwā”; and say to him further, “The long and the short of the matter is that you have delivered a fatwā authorizing men to sell their children, when impelled thereto by hunger. In the first place this tradition is solely an Ibrāhīm Shāhī tradition,¹¹² and is not in accordance with any other standard theological works, and it is well known that the Ibrāhīm Shāhī traditions are not accepted by the learned as of sufficient authority to support a fatwā, and if you maintain that a muftī is competent to give the preference to a superseded^112a tradition, I reply without hesitation that the expression used in the ⁶⁹ Ibrāhīm Shāhī tradition is that it is lawful for fathers (◌),^112b in time of distress, to sell their offspring, and it is well known that the word ◌ includes both father and grandfather, as we find in the book on marriage:—“Any person whose fathers (◌) were Muslims is equal to him whose ancestors attained to the honour of (accepting) Islām,” and it is agreed that the word ◌ here means “father and grandfather,” not “father and mother.” On the assumption that this much is granted why should it not be (ruled) that the authority to sell children vests in both grandfather and father, acting jointly; and what proof is there that such authority should be assigned to the single individual? He then retained Shaikh Mubārak's application for a decision, and gave the former application to me. When I brought it to Shaikh Mubārak he was loud in his praises of Miyāṅ Ḥātīm's knowledge of theology and said, “Tell him, after conveying my salutations, that I did not affix my seal to the application for a decision as I expected that this occasion would arise.” When I showed the document to Shaikh Bahā'u-'d-dīn he said, “As other muftīs had confirmed the decision I trusted to what they said, and did not go deeply into the question, and there certainly was negligence on my part.” The readiness of Shaikh Bahā'u-'d-dīn, the muftī, who was a man of high position and great virtue, to acknowledge his fault, was evidence of his perception and love of truth, and of his rectitude and justice:—

“At the head of that letter which Āṣaf wrote
He wrote, ‘God had mercy on the most just.’”

Miyāṅ Ḥātim, after enjoying the blessing of the opportunity of teaching and imparting instruction for a period of seventy years, passed away from this transitory world in the year H. 968 (A.D. 1560-61). The chronogram of his death has been already given; the words, “With the King he is powerful,”¹¹³ were found to give the date of his death. He left his son, Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Ḥātim by name, as his successor as a religious leader and Shaikh, but ⁷⁰ not as Mullā. He too rejoined his venerable father in the year H. 989 (A.D. 1581) and left some degenerate sons as his heirs.

“How long shall I cherish by blandishments the complaisance
of stony-hearted mistresses (idols)?
“These degenerate sons do not call to mind their father.”

He was of the Anṣār^113b tribe. His ancestors came to Sulṭānpūr and settled there. He was one of the greatest sages of his time, and had not his equal in this age, especially in his knowledge of Arabic, Quranic exegesis, scholastic theology, history, and all those branches of learning which depend upon the exercise of the memory. He has left wonderful compositions, worthy of himself, the best known among them being the books known as ‘Iṣmat-i-Anbiyā ¹¹⁴ and Sharḥu Shamā'ili-'n-Nabī^114a (may God bless and save him!). From the Emperor who now has his resting place in paradise (scil. Humāyūn) he received the title of Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk, and also that of Shaikhu-'l-Islām. He always strenuously exerted himself to enforce the holy law, and was a bigoted Sunnī. Owing to his exertions many heretics and schismatics went to the place prepared for them. He used, owing to his extreme bigotry, to aver of the third volume of the Rawẓatu-'l-Aḥbāb^114b that it was not the work of Mīr^114c Jamālu-'d-dīn^114d the traditionist. In the year^114e in which Gujarāt was conquered and while Maulānā ‘Abdu-'llāh possessed great honour and dignity as agent of the exalted Court in Fatḥpūr, I, who had just then returned from my journey to the Panjāb, went in company with Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl, who had not yet entered the Imperial service, and Ḥājī Sulṭān of Thāne-sar to see Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk. We saw that he had before him the third volume (of the Rawẓatu-'l-Aḥbāb), and he said to us, ⁷¹ “See, what mischief those who are followed in this land have wrought in the faith,” and thus saying he showed us that couplet which occurs in the encomium:—

“This alone is sufficient to prove his resemblance to God,^114f
That it has been doubted that he himself was God.”

and said, “He has passed beyond mere schism here, and has placed the question of his misbelief in quite another category, avouching his belief in the doctrine of incarnations. I am firmly resolved to burn this book in the presence of a Shī‘ah.” I, notwithstanding that I was unknown to any present,¹¹⁵ and had never met Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk before, made bold to say, “This couplet is a translation of those verses which are attributed to the Imām Shāfi‘ī^115a (may God have mercy upon him!).

He looked towards me sharply and asked, “From what are you quoting?” I said, “From the commentary on Amīr's dīvān.” He said, “The commentator, Qāẓī Mīr Ḥusain-i-Mīdī,^115b has also been accused of schism.” I said, “This is wandering from the point.” Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl and Ḥājī Sulṭān,^115c with their fingers on their lips, were every now and then signing to me to be silent. Again I said, “I have heard from some trustworthy men that the third volume is not the work Mīr Jamālu-'d-dīn, but is the work of his son Sayyid Mīrak Shāh, or some other person, and that it is for this reason that its style differs from the style of the first two volumes, being poetical, and not the style peculiar to traditionists.” He answered me, saying, “My child, in the second volume also I have found passages which clearly prove the heresy and misbelief of the author, and I have written notes on them. One of these passages is the statement by the author that ‘Alī, the leader of the faithful (may God be gratified with him!),^115d on the occasion when Ṭalḥah (may God be gratified with him!) was the first to swear allegiance to him, said, “My hand is withered and thine allegiance is worthless,” that is to say, that ‘Alī Murtaẓā, the leader of the faithful, actually took as a bad omen the fact that Ṭalḥah's arm was withered—that arm which in the battle of Uḥud¹¹⁶ was the shield of his holiness the prophet ⁷² (may God bless and save him and his family!), and was pierced with eleven wounds,—a presumption expressly forbidden by the holy law. God forbid that such should be the case! It is impossible that ‘Alī should have followed such a custom, and it is impossible to believe that he did so.” I said, “There is manifestly a distinction between foreboding and augury.” Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl secretly pressed my hand and warned me to be silent. ‘Abdu-'llāh said to him, “Tell me something about this person (scil. Badāonī); who is he?” He and Ḥājī Sulṭān then told him something of my affairs, and our meeting passed off quietly. After we had left him my friends said to me, “You have passed through a great danger, but (fortunately) he did not set himself to persecute you. Had he done so who could have saved you?” Maulānā ‘Abdu-'llāh, when he first set eyes on Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl, in the early years of the Emperor's reign, said to his pupils, “What injury will this man not do to the faith?

“When I saw him in his childhood I showed him to those of
the faith,
“(Saying) ‘He will work mischief among the souls of men,
to your guardianship I entrust him.’”

Maulānā ‘Abdu-'llāh departed to eternity in Gujarāt in the year H. 990 (A.D. 1582), after his return from the pilgrimage to the glorious city of Makkah, and the chronogram in the following verses was found to give the date of his death:—

Makhdūm-i-Mulk departed and took with him,
As a sign on his forehead, (the words) “the mercy of
God.”

When I sought of my heart the date of his death,
It replied to me, “Reckon the second hemistich (of
these verses.)”¹¹⁷

He left behind him some degenerate sons who are unworthy of mention; and here I may remark that all the rising generation give cause of complaint to their progenitors, for indeed it seems that the climate of this age will cherish, nay will produce, none better than such fellows:—

I see no good in the world,
This seems to be the age of impotence.

This state of affairs reminds us of the story that a certain king who was a bigoted Sunnī led an army against Sabzawār, which is a hotbed of schism, its inhabitants being all fanatics. The chief men of the place came out and made their representa- ⁷³ tions to the king, saying, “We are Musalmāns; what fault have we committed that you should have brought an army against us?” The king replied, “Your fault is your zeal for schism.” They replied, “This is a false accusation that has been brought against us. “The king said, “Produce from your city in support of your allegation a man of the name of Abū Bakr,^117a and I will swerve from my intention of slaying you and of plundering your city.” After much search and with much difficulty they produced before the king an unknown pauper, saying, “This man is called by the name which you desired.” After observing the man's old garments and despicable condition, the king asked, “Had you nobody better than this to produce before me?” They said, “O king, ceremony apart, the climate of Sabzawār cherishes an Abū Bakr no better than this.” And the Maulavī-yi-ma‘navī¹¹⁸ (may his tomb be hallowed) refers to this story in his Maṯnavī as follows:—

“This unstable world is a Sabzawār to us,
We, like Bū-Bakrs, live in it mean and despised.”

He was one of the great sages of the age and was distinguished among the men of his time and his contemporaries for his piety, devotion, and trust in God. In early life he observed many austerities and strove much in the way of holiness, and was so zealous in enforcing the commands and prohibitions of the holy law that if anybody was present while he was giving religious instruction wearing a golden ring, or silk clothing, or red hose, or red or yellow garments, he at once made him remove them, and if anyone appeared with long breeches, descending below the heel, he immediately had them torn to the proper length. If, while walking through the streets, he heard the noise of any singing he would start violently. In his zeal for God he was so devoted to singing that he was scarcely for a moment of the day at ease without being employed in listening to the chanting of hymns, psalms, mystic melodies, and music. ⁷⁴ In short he followed many and various rules of life. For some time during the reigns of the Afghān Emperors he used to keep company with Shaikh ‘Alā'ī,¹¹⁹ and in the beginning of the Emperor's reign, when the Naqshbandī order were in great esteem, he adapted himself to their rule, and for some time he was attached to the Hamadānī Shaikhs, and at last when the ‘Irāqīs were in great favour at Court he spoke as one of their religion.^119a “Converse with men according to their understanding,” was his practice, and so he continued to do. He was always employed in giving religious instruction, and was well-versed in poetry, enigmas, and in all other arts and branches of learning, but especially in the theology of the Ṣūfīs, and, unlike most other learned men of India, he practised their system thoroughly. He also had Shāṭibī by heart, and used to give instruction in the law of inheritance. He also had by heart the glorious Qur'ān, according to each of the ten methods of reading it.

He never went to the houses of nobles, but was a very pleasant companion, and had a great stock of wonderful anecdotes. Towards the end of his life, when his sight failed him and he was unable to read, he went into retirement and wrote a commentary similar to the Tafsīr-i-Kabīr,^119b contained in four large volumes, and named it the Mamba‘u-Nafā'isi-'l-‘Uyūn.^119c The strange thing is that in the exordium to that commentary he wrote certain passages which seem to contain pretensions to the establishment of new principles in religion, and the innovations contained therein are those which are well known. At the time when he was enabled, by God's grace, to complete that commentary he used constantly to recite, with a view to reminding himself of what he owed to God, the Qaṣīda-yi-Fāriẓiyya in ta,^119d which contains seven hundred couplets, the Qaṣīda-yi-Burda, by Ka‘b bin Zuhair,^119e and other epodes which he had committed to memory, until, on the seventeenth of Ẕī-Qa‘da, A.H. 1001 (Aug. 15, 1593), he passed away from this world in Lāhor. He was a mullā whose like, as regards the scope of his attainments, has never been seen, and the pity is that his love of the world with its pomps, concealed under the garment of holy poverty, left no room for the love of the faith of Islām. The author, in his youth, spent some ⁷⁵ years in Āgra under his tuition, and owes him much, but can no longer feel himself fettered by his indebtedness to him, owing to his numerous acts of worldliness and impiety, his devotion to wealth and pomp, his time serving, his deceit and double-dealing, and his zeal for innovations in the faith. “Answer, God; and either we, or ye, follow the direction, or are in a manifest error.”¹²⁰

In short, the saying of the common people, that the son brings curses on his father, is exemplified in his case, just as it happened in the case of Yazīd,^120a in respect of whom some impudently and presumptuously say, “Curses be on Yazīd and on his father!”

Amroha^120c is a pargana town in the Sarkār of Sambhal. Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad was exceedingly pious, devout, and abstemious. He and the author's father were in their youth fellow-students under various teachers in the city of Sambhal, and also in Badāon under Mīr Sayyid Jalāl, a sage who had studied the traditional sayings of the prophet under Mīr Sayyid Rafi‘u-'d-din. Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad, after completing his course of studies, employed himself in teaching, and towards the end of his life attained to a high position in the Imperial Court, receiving the appointment of Mīr-i-‘Adl. In this high post he showed himself to be scrupulously just, straightforward and trustworthy, so that even the Qāẓī'u-'l-Quẓẓāt¹²¹ of the time, out of respect to Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad's age, refrained from his customary double-dealing and base behaviour, and during the Mīr's tenure of his post no heretic or schismatic had an opportunity of damaging the faith of Islām.

After the death of Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad the title of Mīr-i-‘Adl was applied to and assumed by many persons.

The Mīr, owing to his hereditary connection with me and the long-standing affection which he had for me, advised me, when I first appeared at court, to have nothing to do with any madad-i- ⁷⁶ ma‘āsh, and to refrain from subjecting myself to the base actions of the Ṣadrs, recommending me to enter the Imperial service in any post I could obtain, for that the Ṣadrs were tyrannical egotists. Owing to my disregard of his advice I naturally experienced what I have experienced, and|suffered what I have suffered. The Mīr was appointed to the government of Bakkar^121a in the year H. 984 (A.D. 1576-77), and in that city departed this life in the year H. 986 (A.D. 1578-79).^121b

He was the son and successor of Shaikh Jamālī, the famous poet. He perfected himself in exoteric learning and enjoyed the society of the learned men of the age, being much benefited by their companionship. By means of the claim which intimate friendship gave him on Bairam Khān he obtained the appointment of Ṣadru-'s-Ṣudūr^122a in India, and was for several years resorted to, as an authority on religious questions, by the sages and principal men of Hindūstān, Khurāsān, Transoxiana, and ‘Irāq. He was a born poet, and used to compose and sing hymns and religious songs after the Indian manner,^122b to which pursuits he was passionately addicted.

After he had dissociated himself from Bairam Khān, the Khān-i-Khānān, and returned from the neighbourhood of Bīkānīr to Dihlī,^122c he was honoured and esteemed at Court as before. When in Dihlī he always used to attend the shrines of the saints there (may God sanctify their souls!) on their anniversaries, and used to hold assemblies with great pomp and circumstance. He left this world for the next either in the year H. 976 (A.D. 1568-69) or in the year H. 979 (A.D. 1571-72),¹²³ leaving behind him sons no better than the sons of most men in this degenerate age, “as has been decreed for these days, and in accordance with the decree of God the all-wise.”

The following verses are an extract from the poems of Shaikh Gadā'ī:—

“At times my soul, at times my heart became the abode of ⁷⁷
grief,
“I ever grieve after thee, as I travel, stage by stage.
“Be not forgetful of my grief and pain,
“For there is no moment of my life which is not occupied
with thoughts of thee.
“I have bound my frenzied heart in thy tresses,
“Myself am bound in those musky chains.
“If desires could be easily accomplished by the surrender of
life
“No difficulties would remain to true lovers.
“Gadā'ī, thou hast lost thy life in unsuccessful endeavour!
“I have not obtained my desire from the lips of my
friend.”

I have copied these verses from the memoir of Mīr ‘Alā'u-'d-daulah, which is not to be trusted. I suspect that they are not Gadā'ī's. But God knows the truth!

He was the pupil of his own worthy father, Shaikh Naṣīru-'d-din, and the brother of Miyāṅ Lādan. He was of the Kambū tribe. He was one of the most learned men of his time both in those branches of knowledge which depend on the reasoning faculty, and in those which depend on the memory, but especially in practical and scholastic theology, knowledge of Arabic, and expounding the Qur'ān, in which studies he was unequalled. He used to speak authoritatively on the commentaries on the Miftāḥ,¹²⁴ and it is said that he had, in the course of teaching, gone through the book ‘Aẓdī, one of the most advanced works, forty times. He used to impart religious instruction, and never went to the houses of kings or nobles, but always affected the company of magistrates who were honoured and respected. Most of his pupils have become wise men. He passed away to the next world in the year H. 984 (A.D. 1576-77) at the age of more than ninety years.

He came originally from the neighbourhood of the fortress of Bakkar.^124b He was a profound sage, ever speaking the truth and loving it. In early life he was a merchant, and in middle age he employed himself in teaching. He taught in Āgra for some years, and then, in consequence of certain events which have been narrated in the detailed account of Akbar's reign, was employed in the high post of Qāẓī, after the dismissal of Qāẓī Ya‘qūb. In respect of his integrity and trustworthiness he was the best of Qāẓīs, but, owing to the misfortune of his having a corrupt son, a handsome blockhead, and in consequence of the machinations of all the base pimps about the Court, his own lack of worldly wisdom, and his inability to appreciate the spirit of the age and the ideas of his contemporaries, he was banished to the Dakan,¹²⁵ the rulers of which land, having heard of his staunchness to Islām and his preaching of the word of God, honoured him to the utmost extent of their power. From the Dakan he was privileged to perform the pilgrimage to the holy house of God, and there replied, “Here am I,” to the summons of God.

Ṭawā'is^125a is a dependency of Khurāsān. He was a most trustworthy man, but, as he was devoid of learning, some of his decisions were wrong. He had suffered much at the hands of the wealthy men of his time,^125b and was therefore always much prejudiced against them, and would, as far as possible, show favour to the poorer party, even though he were in the wrong. He did not understand that in these days it is generally the wrong-doer that cries for justice, in which connection Shaikh ⁷⁹ Abū-'l-Faẓl has said, “If the greatest of the Imāms^125c had lived in our time he would have written on practical theology otherwise than as he did.”

When the Khān-i-Zamān broke out into rebellion he gave a decision to the effect that the seizure of the effects of a rebel was unlawful,^125d and this decision led to his deposition and the appointment of Qāẓī Ya‘qūb in his place. Very shortly after his deposition he passed away from this world.

He was related to Qāẓī Faẓīlat,^126a and was well skilled in practical theology and in the principles of that science. He was of a cheerful and open disposition, and used to compose Arabic verses in Indian metres. They say that while he was, for several years, the Qāẓī'u-l-Quẓẓāt of India, he used to take aphrodisiac electuaries in large quantities. One day when he was present at a party given by the Emperor, several intoxicating and stimulating drugs were handed round, and were offered to the Qāẓī among others. He refused them, and when he was asked what sort of drugs he took, one of the Emperor's Hindū favourites immediately replied, “The Qāẓī takes mercury.”^126b

After his dismissal from the post of Qāẓī'u-'l-Quẓẓāt he was appointed to be Qāẓī of Bangāl, and was sent off to that province,^126c and while there used to use aphrodisiacs to excess, a slave to the violence of his lusts. He was a confederate of Ma‘ṣūm-i-Kābuli in his rebellion^126d and was in consequence recalled from that province and sentenced to be imprisoned in the fortress of Gwāliyār, and on his way to that place removed the baggage of his existence from this world, and joined Mīr Mu‘izzu-'l-Mulk and Mullā Muḥammad of Yazd.¹²⁷

He was the son of Shaikh Aḥmad, the son of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Quddūs of Kango. He journeyed several times to the glorious city of Makkah and the delectable city of Madīnah, and there studied the traditional sayings of Muḥammad, and after his return he abandoned the mode of life of his forefathers, and, ⁸⁰ objecting to the ecstatics and vocal music (of the Ṣūfīs) followed the rule of the traditionists, and busied himself in ceremonial and outward piety, cleanliness, purification and devotion. When he was appointed Ṣadru-'s-Ṣudūr he distributed enormous areas of land to the people as madad-i-ma‘āsh, pensions, and religious endowments, and never was there in the reign of any monarch a Ṣadru-'s-Ṣudūr so powerful as Shaikh ‘Abdu-'n-Nabī, or one who alienated the tenth part of what he did in religious endowments. ^127c For some time the Emperor had so great faith in him as a religious leader that he would bring him his shoes and place them before his feet. At last, owing to the disagreements^127d of Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk and all the other ill-dispositioned ‘Ulamā the Emperor's opinion of him changed completely.

Couplet.

All those who seek for pride of place are fools,
Aye, those who style themselves the ‘Ulamā.

The chief cause of his fall was as follows:—When the Emperor, after his journey to Bānswāla,^127e halted at Fatḥpūr, Qāẓī ‘Abdu-'r-Rahīm, the Qāẓī of Mathura, laid a complaint before the Shaikh, to the effect that a wealthy and stiff-necked Brahman of that place had carried off the materials which he, the Qāẓī, had collected for the construction of a masjid, and had built of them an idol-temple, and that, when the Qāẓī had attempted to prevent him, he had, in the presence of witnesses, opened his foul mouth to curse the prophet (on whom be peace), and had shown his contempt for Muslims in various other ways. When the Brahman was called upon to appear, he disobeyed the Shaīkh's summons. The Emperor sent Bīr Bar and Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl to fetch him, and they brought him, and Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl represented to the Emperor what he had heard of the case from the people, and stated that it was certainly proved that he had uttered abuse of the prophet. Some of the ‘Ulamā were of opinion that he should suffer death, while others were in favour of his being publicly paraded on the back of an ass and heavily fined. The ‘Ulamā were thus divided into two parties and the question was argued at length. The Shaikh required the ⁸¹ Emperor's sanction to the execution of the Brahman, but, notwithstanding his importunity, no open sanction was given, and the Emperor said in private, “Punishments for offences against the holy law are in the hands of you, the ‘Ulamā; what do you require of me?” The Brahman remained for some time in custody on the charge, and the ladies of the Imperial ḥaram busied themselves in interceding for his release, but the Shaikh's known opinions stood in the way. At last, when the Shaikh's importunity exceeded all bounds, the Emperor said, “You have received your answer, it is that which I have already given you.” No sooner had the Shaikh reached his lodging than he issued orders for the execution of the Brahman. When this matter was reported to the Emperor he was exceedingly wroth. The ladies of his ḥaram complained in private and the Hindū courtiers in public, saying, “You have pampered these Mullās till their insolence has reached such a pitch that they pay no heed to your wishes, and, merely to display their own power and authority, put men to death without your orders.” They plied his Majesty with arguments to such an extent that he could endure it no longer, and the leaven of designs which had long been working in his mind at length fermented and overflowed. One might, at the tank known as Anūp Talā'ō,¹²⁹ he set forth the whole case, and asked certain time serving muftīs and stirrers up of strife for a decision on the question. One of them said, “The witnesses who have been produced prove that he has committed an offence against the person under cover of the law.” Another said, “The strange thing is that Shaikh ‘Abdu-'n-Nabī should claim to be a descendant of the greatest of the Imāms^129a (may God have mercy upon him!) according to whose school of theology the cursing of the prophet by unbelievers who have submitted to the rule of Islām gives no ground for any breach of agreement by Muslims, and in no way absolves Muslims from their obligation to safeguard infidel subjects. This question has been discursively treated in theological works, and it is hard to understand how the Shaikh can have so opposed himself to the principles of his ancestor.” All at once the Emperor's glance fell on the author of these historical selections, standing afar off, and, turning to me he summoned me to him, saying, “Come forward.” I advanced, and he put to me a question, saying, “Have you heard ⁸² that, supposing there are ninety-nine traditions awarding the punishment of death for a certain offence, and one tradition in accordance with which the accused person may be set at liberty, muftīs should give the preference to that one tradition?” I said, “Yes, it is just as your Majesty has said; but this question turns on the maxim “Verily legal punishments and inflictions are set aside by doubts”; and I translated the maxim into Persian. The Emperor said, with evident sorrow, “Perhaps Shaikh ‘Abdu-'u-Nabī was not aware of this ruling, that he put the unfortunate Brāhman to death. Yet how could it be so?” I replied, “The Shaikh is, beyond all doubt, a learned man, but he must have had some wise purpose in view, in knowingly giving an order contrary to this tradition.” The Emperor said, “What purpose can he have had in view?” I said, “The closing of sedition and the uprooting of the germs of insolence from the minds of the common people.” I also brought to his Majesty's notice the tradition of Qāẓī ‘Ayyāẓ on the remedies of evils, which tradition had been laid before him in connection with this case. Certain lewd fellows of the baser sort said, “Qāẓī ‘Ayyāẓ was a Mālikī,¹³⁰ and his decisions have no weight in a land of the Ḥanafīs.” The Emperor said to me, “What do you say to this?” I said, “Although he was a Mālikī, it is yet permissible, by the sacred law, for a recognized muftī to pass sentence in accordance with his decisions.” The question was argued at length, and the bystanders observed that the Emperor's moustache, during the discussion, bristled like the whiskers of a tiger, and those who were standing behind him signed to me to desist from argument. All at once the Emperor, opposing my decision, said, “What you say is nonsense!” I immediately made my submission, and retired and took my place in the circle of courtiers, and have ever since eschewed forwardness and the company of disputants, preferring retirement, and saluting the Emperor from afar.

From this time forth the fortunes of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'u-Nabī began to decline. He withdrew himself from company and avoided it, concerning himself principally with his own claims to superiority and the repudiation of former decisions in legal matters, whether modern or ancient. He never went to Court. ⁸³ About this time Shaikh Mubārak came from Āgra to Fatḥpūr to offer his felicitations to the Emperor on some subject or another, and the Emperor told him what had happened and asked him for his opinion. He gave his opinion authoritatively, saying, ‘Your Majesty is the Imām and Mujtahid of the age. What need have you of these ‘Ulamā for assistance in issuing your commands, whether religious or secular. They have no lot or part in true knowledge, beyond a groundless reputation therefor.” The Emperor said, “Since you are my teacher and I am ready to learn from you why do you not free me from dependence on these Mullās?” Shaikh Mubārak made a supreme effort to gain his end, and, aflame with rancour and contumacy, said, “Do you make a claim to religious supremacy, and demand from them an attestation of your claim.” He ultimately wrote a decree affirming the religious supremacy of the Emperor and his superiority to all ecclesiastical dignitaries.¹³¹ Shaikh ‘Abdu-'u-Nabī and Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk were forcibly seized and compelled, as though they had been mere nobodies, to attend that assembly of base fellows. No one saluted them, and they took their seats in the Ṣaff-i-ni‘āl,^131a and they were forced, much against their will, to attest that decree, whether they would or no,^131b as has been mentioned in the detailed history of the Emperor's reign; and at last they both received permission to make the pilgrimage to Makkah.

Shaikh ‘Abdu-'u-Nabī died in the year H. 991 (A.D. 1583).^131c

He was among the first of the greatest sages of the time. He was devout, following a severe rule and striving much in the path of holiness. In the feebleness of old age, when he had no longer the power to walk, and was completely bedridden, he learnt the glorious Qur'ān by heart. He had by heart the contents of most of the books generally read, and if one of his pupils made a mistake in reading he would correct him without referring to the text. He was well skilled in expounding the Qur'ān, in the traditional sayings and biography of Muḥammad, and in history. He was a fellow-citizen and contemporary of Shaikh ⁸⁴ Niẓāmu-'d-dīn¹³² of Ambēṭhī, and he used to say of him that he was strongly opposed to the recital by the congregation of the fātiḥah after the imām (during public prayers in the masjid).

The author had the honour of paying his respects to the Shaikh while he was employed in giving instruction in the Sharḥ-i-Viqāya . One of the Shaikh's pupils happened to be reading the following verses of Hazal:—

“Abū-Bakr, the son of the chosen one,
Resolved on a foray in connection with a strange matter,
And he said, ‘Verily I have resolved on a foray
Against Kaftārah, who is my father's mother.’
And I said, ‘Wilt thou not hearken, O my son,
To the prohibition against associating with the base?’

and a discussion arose whether the reading should be ◌ or ◌^132a which latter is the feminine intensive form of the word ◌, “an unbeliever.” He said that the true reading was ◌ and that no other reading would make sense, for that ◌ was a Persian word. My contention was that the meaning of ◌ was more obvious than that of ◌,—but God knows the truth!

He was a profound sage, and was regarded as a leader in religious matters both by Ṣūfīs and by orthodox Muslims.^133a He was a cheerful and pleasant companion. Although he was for a time, as is well known, the pupil of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'llāh Makhdū-mu-'l-Mulk, I certainly found him to be far superior to Makhdū-mu-'l-Mulk. So broad-minded was he in religious matters that he was commonly suspected of being a heretic. But the fact is that he was so credulous that he would implicitly trust any person, even a manifest heretic, who was inclined to asceticism, and would stand before him with joined hands, and regard anything he might say as an authoritative utterance.

They say that a heretic who pretended to be mysteriously attracted to God one day came upon the Qāẓī, and that the Qāẓī after his custom, stood before him with his hands joined in ⁸⁵ reverence. The heretic, deluded wretch, said, “Khiẓr^133b is always with me.” The Qāẓī fell at his feet saying, “Show him to me.” The heretic replied, “I am at present in great anxiety over the marriage of my daughter, an affair which will cost me seven hundred tankas; when my anxiety is removed I will effect a meeting between you and Khiẓr.” The Qāẓī at once gave him seven hundred tankas. Two days later the man came to him and said, “Come that I may show you Khiẓr,” and took him away with him to the river. Now the heretic was a very tall man, while the Qāẓī was low of stature. The heretic walked into the river until the water reached his neck, and then stood still, and said to the Qāẓī, “Come to me, for Khiẓr is here.” The Qāẓī replied, “I cannot swim; how can I come to you?” The heretic replied, “Well, I have shown you the place where Khiẓr is, if you cannot come to it it is no fault of mine.” Many other stories, even more laughable than this, are told of the Qāẓī, and to detail them would be to show the weakness of his intellect. His extreme simplicity can be estimated from the example cited.

When the Emperor bestowed¹³⁴ on the chief men of Lāhōr appointments in various parts of the Empire, and sent each one of them to fill some post in one city or another, Ṣadru-'d-dīn was appointed to be Qāẓī of the seaport town of Bahrōc, in the province of Gujarāt, and was despatched thither in that capacity. There he died, leaving behind him a son possessed of ability, named Shaikh Muḥammad, who now holds in that city the appointment held by his late father.

He was one of those sages whose knowledge is always at command and ready for use. He possessed a naturally acute intellect and intuitive intelligence. In knowledge of practical theology and the first principles of that science, and of Arabic, he had no equal. He wrote a treatise on syntax which he named after one of the nobles, Quṭbī by name,^134a and which contained some evidence of its author's industry.

I went to Lakhnau at the time when Ḥusain Khān was governor ⁸⁶ of that place,^134b and met the Miyāṅ. Among his works there were two books which struck me as being wonderful. One was a treatise, written in columns, which covered a piece of paper capable of containing fourteen lines of ordinary writing, and as broad as it was long. In this treatise the leading principles and problems of fourteen different branches of knowledge were succinctly set forth. The other consisted of four Maqāmahs from a treatise in which the style of the Maqāmātu-'l-Ḥarīrī¹³⁵ was imitated, which treatise he entitled Qīṭūn.^135a He told me that he had composed other works besides these. His cousins, however, said that the treatise on fourteen different branches of knowledge and the Qīṭūn were written by Ḥakīm Zibriqī,^135b who, having come to Jaunpūr, employed himself in collating books, together with the well-known^135c Qaẓī Shihābu-'d-dīn. These works, they said, found their way, in the course of time, to the library of Shaikh A‘ẓam of Lakhnau, who obtained the title of Ṯānī-yi-Imām-i-A‘ẓam ,^135d and thence came into the hands of Miyāṅ Ilāhdād, who was a descendant of Shaikh A‘ẓam;—and God knows the truth of the matter!

He was one of the greatest of the Sayyids of Āgra, and was preeminent in his piety and resignation to the Divine will. From his youth to the end of his life he lived in seclusion, avoiding the society of the wealthy^135f and all pomps and ceremony, and in his capacity as deputy of his holiness, the Ghauṯ^135g of the Everlasting God, the pole-star (of religion) fixed by the Lord, the inhabitant of that place which is beyond locality, Shaikh Muḥīyyu-'d-dīn ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir-i-Jīlānī (may God be gratified with him and cause him to be gratified with us!), he received pupils up to the time when he bade farewell to this fleeting world. At this time his son, strong in the faith, Mīr Sayyid Dā'ūd, is the representative of his reverend father, and spends his life in holy poverty, indigence, and peregrination. As the auspicious splendour of his dread Majesty the Emperor and the pomp of the greatness of his glorious progeny shone with ever-increasing brilliancy over the horizon of the imperial domain of Āgra, the effulgence of this ⁸⁷ unfortunate family has abated in splendour, and the families of other deceased saints too have declined in like manner.

Couplet.

“Hundreds of thousands of children were beheaded
Before he who spake with God¹³⁶ saw the light.”

It is commonly reported that he was a descendant of that polestar of holy men, and king of true lovers of God Khāja Mu‘īn-u-'d-dīn-i-Sanjarī-yi-Ci shtī^136a (may God hallow his soul)! Since the Emperor, in the days when he first began especially to venerate his holiness the Khāja of Ajmer, happened to slight the claims of the Shaikh (to descent from him) some perverse fellows, prompted thereto by certain Shaikhs of Fatḥpūr, men who have endeavoured to the utmost to depose and discredit those of their own class (may God reward them therefor!), gave evidence against his claim to descent from the Khāja, saying that his holiness left no descendants, and the Ṣadrs and Qāẓīs also issued decrees to that effect, being guided by their time-serving dispositions.

Thus the hereditary trusteeship of the shrine which had come down to him through so many years was transferred to others. The Shaikh, who was a man of great estate, lived in that province like a king, and the Emperor's regal jealousy, both on this account and on account of certain other events which happened, could not endure the Shaikh's position, so he ordered him to leave India and to journey to Makkah, and the Shaikh accordingly took formal leave of his Majesty during the march to Bāns-wāla, ¹³⁷ and, after successfully performing the pilgrimage to Makkah, returned. Having accomplished his journey to the Ḥijāz, he paid his respects at Court, on his return, on the very day on which the Emperor had marched from Fatḥpūr towards Kabul against Muhammad Ḥakīm Mīrzā; but he would not conform to the ceremonies which have in these days been established by those who have accepted a new faith and have been recently converted to Islām, new followers of a new order of ⁸⁸ things.

The Emperor, after studying the page of the Shaikh's life and the lines of his forehead read there the signs of disaffection to himself, and commanded that the Shaikh should be imprisoned in the fortress of Bakkar.^137a There he spent some years, and at last, in the year H. 1002 (A.D. 1593-94), owing to the efforts made on his behalf by certain courtiers who had his Majesty's confidence, he was summoned from Bakkar to the Imperial presence, and, in company with some other prisoners, such as Shaikh Kamāl-i-Biyābānī, the impostor, some mention of whom has already been made,^137b and the Qāẓīs of Fatḥpūr, who had been imprisoned in Bakkar for fourteen years, owing to the machinations of Shaikh Ibrāhīm-i-Cishtī,^137c and whose release had been ordered by means of the intercession of Mīrzā Niẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad,¹³⁸ he arrived at Court, and there they all paid their respects to his Majesty, and all, with the exception of the Shaikh, prostrated themselves. He, an old man of seventy years of age, utterly unaccustomed to the ceremonial of kingly courts and the correct fashion of waiting upon royal personages, made a slight inclination and a mere bow, after the old custom. The Emperor's displeasure with him was renewed, and the Mīrzā was ordered to have a grant of three hundred bīgas of land in Bakkar made out to him, as madad-i-ma‘āsh,^138a and to despatch the Shaikh thither once more. Begum Pādshāh, the mother of his Majesty, busied herself in the ladies' apartments of the palace in interceding for the Shaikh, and said to the Emperor, “My son, he has an aged and decrepit mother in Ajmer, whose heart yearns to see her son again. How would it be if you were to give him leave to depart to Ajmer? He desires no madad-ī-ma‘āsh from you.” The Emperor would not accede to her request, and said, “Mother, he will start business afresh in the place to which he is now going, and people will present to him alms, presents, and complimentary gifts in plenty. He leads a number of men astray. In fine, let him summon his mother hither.” This treatment of his mother was much bitterer to the Shaikh than was the mere going to Bakkar.

On the night on which the Ṣadr-i-Jahān summoned the compiler of these historical selections to the Imperial presence in connection with the Shaikh's resignation of his trusteeship of the ⁸⁹ shrine in Ajmer, as has already been mentioned, the Emperor was perturbed in respect of that case, which he had himself brought forward, and refused to ratify the decree (with regard to the resignation), and retained the Shaikh in his service. He said to the Ṣadr-i-Jahān, “Where is that simple-hearted old man?” (meaning Shaikh Ḥusain). I reminded him that he was in Lāhōr, and urged the Ṣadr-i-Jahān, since I myself was unworthy to hold such a blessed position, to have him appointed as the trustee of the shrine in that protected¹³⁹ city, and so restore to him his just due. But, since it is not in the nature of natives of India to work in the interests of their own brethren, or to trust one another, the efforts of the Ṣadr-i-Jahān availed neither in my case, unfortunate wretch that I am, nor in the case of Shaikh Ḥusain. That aged man, whose sins have surely been forgiven by God, now lives in affliction and distress, in perturbation of spirit and in perplexity, seated in the nook of obscurity, unable to haunt the doors of the great ones of this world, or to obtain their influence and interest on his behalf; while at the same time the road of representation is closed to him, and all hopes^139a of the intercession of others in his behalf are ruined.

But, to continue: the Shaikh's existence is a blessing and a boon to be highly prized by his contemporaries. I was not personally acquainted with him till recently, but now that he has returned from his pilgrimage to the Hijāz, and has suffered bonds, he appears to me to be a quantity of (heavenly) light, and an angel in bodily form. Never have I known him to speak of worldly matters, either in public or in private. He is ever employed in austerities, in worship, and in striving in the way of holiness, fasting continually and always watching at night. It is my hope that God (may He be praised and glorified!) will open to him the door of his desire, in accordance with the text, “Verily a difficulty shall be attended with ease, aye, verily a difficulty shall be attended with ease.” It is my hope, too, that God will speedily recompense him for his afflictions with the blessing described in the couplet:—

Couplet.

When hardships press upon thee, think on the chapter “Have
we not opened?”^139b
And the word “difficulty” lies between two repetitions of the
word “ease,”
When thou thinkest on this rejoice.

I pray, too, that I, bondsman of this world as I am, may by ⁹⁰ the blessing of that leader of all the pious, attain salvation, that, being delivered from my purposeless pursuits, my wild talk, levity, folly, and futile scribbling, I may reach my “true native land” and abiding city, to meet there my departed wife, children, and relatives, and, above all my son, and that I may be enabled to employ what remains to me of life in some occupation that shall serve me hereafter.

Couplet.

My purpose is, if it be possible,
So to employ myself as to dissipate my grief.

And since these lines were written just as the scroll of felicity was unfolding itself, and the blessed breeze of morn was beginning to blow, and the true dawn was just breaking, what wonder if the arrow of my disinterested prayer strikes the target of acceptance through the bounty of the Lord, on whose boundless mercy I have always trained myself to believe, and by whose free grace I have been nourished?

Couplet.

91 “He may well unfold the desire of my fortune, for which
last night
“I prayed, and the true dawn broke.”¹⁴⁰

These complainings are out of place here, but what can I do? My soul and heart are so oppressed with weakness and uneasiness that these few bitter lamentations have escaped from the pipe of my tongueless pen. Please God I shall be excused and forgiven.

Couplet.

“I am not one to weep from grief of heart,
But this load of grief heavily oppresses my heart.”

He was an inhabitant of Ucch, and was the delight of the heart and the apple of the eye of his holiness Shaikh Ḥāmid-i-Qādirī: may God make his soul fragrant!

At the time when that holy man (may God the most High have mercy upon him!) was in Āgra in the days when Bairām Khān, the Khānkhānān, was in power, I was a student, but I had not the good fortune of waiting on him. When Bairām Khān, owing to the machinations of malevolent and perverse persons, the chief of whom was Shaikh Gadā'ī,^141a became puffed up with pride on account of his transient high position, he began to regard the holy Shaikh with disfavour, and summoned him from Ucch. The Shaikh was much displeased, and declared that the order augured ill for his persecutor, and there happened to Bairām Khān what did happen.^141b But Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ used to attribute the subsequent confusion in the affairs of Bairām Khān to his own journey to Court (in obedience to a summons).

When the holy Shaikh Ḥāmid returned to Multan his soul, now resting on high, conveyed itself in the sacred shrine to the neighbourhood of the attendants of the sublime court of heaven and his pure body was committed to the ground in the village of Ḥāmidpūr, a dependency of Multān.

There had been for many years a dispute between Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir and his younger brother, Shaikh Mūṣā, regarding the title to the Shaikh-dom, and Shaikh Mūṣā, consequently, spent most of his time at Court. One night when the Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir was at Fatḥpūr oil of poppies was offered to him, and he declared the use of it to be unlawful. The Emperor was displeased with him on account of what he said on this occasion' and one day in the hall of andience at Fatḥpūr, after the congregational prayers had been recited, the Shaikh busied himself with his supererogatory devotions. The Emperor said, “Shaikh, perform your supererogatory devotions in your own house.” The ⁹² Shaikh replied, “Sire, in this kingdom your commands have no force.” The Emperor was much displeased and said, “What an ignorant fellow is this Shaikh.” He then said, “Since you do not desire what my power can give you, remain no longer in my kingdom.” The Shaikh immediately left the assembly, resigned his madad-i-ma‘āsh, and ceased to prosecute his case against his younger brother. He retired to Ucch, the burial place of his revered predecessors, and, in Shaikh Mūsā's absence, removed the bones of the holy Shaikh Ḥāmid to Ucch, and followed the sublime and laudable rule of his predecessors. He now walks, with the footsteps of resignation, in the way of holy poverty, and receives so much in the way of alms that he has no need of any madad-i-ma‘āsh. Now Shaikh Mūsā, after all the years which he has spent in piety, devotion, holy endeavour, and saintliness, has become a secular follower of the Emperor, has adopted the profession of arms, and, having resigned his former service, has now become a commander of five hundred horse. This is similar to the story of a man who became a Musalmān, to whom one said, “You have done well, there were too few Musalmāns without you!”¹⁴²

So long as Shaikh Mūsā was with the Emperor he would, at the stated times for prayer, whether he were in the public or the private hall of audience, himself utter the call to prayer, and would then lead the congregational prayers in the presence of the Khalīfah of the age, and none could gainsay him.

When news was [brought to Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir of his brother's new rank at Court, he said, “He well deserves the command of a thousand horse. Why did he not enter the imperial service before, and receive a jāgīr in Multān, instead of causelessly quarrelling for so long?”

Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir, well content with the honour and high place which he has gained through holy poverty, follows the rule of his noble ancestors and, sitting as their successor, employs himself in guiding and teaching the people, and spends his precious time in worship, in the practice of severe austerities, and in holy endeavour, so that his leadership in the religious world is established.¹⁴³

Couplet.

We will not deprive ourselves of the honour of holy poverty ⁹³
and contentment;
Tell the king that our daily bread has been appointed for us
by God.

He was the spiritual successor of his holiness Shaikh Bahā'u-'d-dīn Zakarīyā^143a (may God sanctify his soul!). The people of Multan gave him the title of Valī (saint), and so great was their faith in him that he could, if he chose, assemble a thousand horsemen in one day. He employed his time so busily that he took his meals at variable times, as it were, and owing to the redness of his eyes, caused really by his night watches, the common people believed him to be a drunkard.

“So much is my own blood my drink that all night long I
am beside myself,
“And for this reason men charge me with wine-bibbing.”

Nevertheless, Shaikh Mūsā-i-Qādirī, who has been mentioned above, always attributed the redness of Shaikh Kabīr's eyes to actual drunkenness, and he would continually say, “I fear that the saints of old, too, whose morals we read of in books, were like Shaikh Kabīr, who is well known as a “Saint,” and that the old poets, also, were like Shaikh Faiẓī and the rest of them.” God forbid!

I saw Shaikh Kabīr once at Fatḥpūr, when I was with Ḥusain Khān, and observed his dignity of appearance, and I firmly believe that inwardly he was a knower of hidden secrets.

(A fragment¹⁴⁴ from Sa‘dī.)
“Whomsoever thou seest clad in the garments of holiness,
“Believe him to be holy, and a pious man,
“If thou knowest not his actual state.
“What business has the police officer within the house?”

His death took place in the year H. 995 (A.D. 1587) and he is buried in the burial place of his venerable forefathers (may blessing and peace be upon them!).

He is one of the faithful men of this age, and is among the greatest of the spiritual representatives of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'-r-Razzāq of Jhanjhāna, a noted Shaikh, who was widely venerated by ecstatic mystics, and followed by those who had acquired learning and perfection.

The Mīr passed his eightieth year, and advanced well into his ninth decade, and throughout his precious life he never set foot outside his house once he had received authoritative permission to give religious instruction. He was resorted to by the great, and by all, both rich and poor. Many miracles are related of him, and whosoever was honoured by the Mīr's companionship, and in all sincerity enrolled himself among his disciples, obtained grace to avoid all forbidden things and wanton pastimes, to ally himself to the Fount of all grace, and to attain his true object. Among such was Muḥammad Ja‘far, the relative of Mīrzā Niẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad, an orthodox youth, but polluted with debauchery. When he travelled from Lāhōr to take up the faujdārī¹⁴⁵ of the pargana of Shamsābād,^145a which was in the Mīrzā's jāgīr, and reached Lūdhiāna, he enrolled himself among Mīr Sayyid ‘Alī's disciples, and, by God's grace, repented of his sins, and, leaving aside all^145b things that should be shunned,^145c and everything that is forbidden, frequently begged the Mīr to offer up a prayer^145d that he might attain to the dignity of martyrdom. The Mīr offered up prayers in accordance with his request, and in the course of three or four months Muḥammad Ja‘far became so well known for his piety, abstinence, asceticism, and devotion, that he became an object of envy^145e to many of the pious, and he, who used with much pride and pomp, and with many attendants, to recite his night prayers, now drew water for his ceremonial ablutions without the help of any servant, and aroused nobody.

In a short time the Mīr's prayer was answered, and in a village ⁹⁵ in the pargana of Shamsābād Muḥammad Ja‘far attained to the dignity of martyrdom,^145f fighting manfully against the warlike infidels.

In that same year I waited on Mīr Sayyid ‘Alī, on the occasion on which I, in company with Mīrzā Nīẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad, obtained leave to visit my beloved home. The conversation turned on the martyrdom of Ja‘far, and Mīr Sayyid ‘Alī said, “It is admissible for martyrs to satisfy their love of pleasure in this world as well (as in the next), as is certain from the following text which occurs in the glorious word of God:—‘Nay, rather, alive with their Lord they are provided for, rejoicing.’”¹⁴⁶ He then said, in this connection, “There was a newly married youth who met his death by martyrdom in this neighbourhood, and after his death he used to return always on Friday nights, in appearance the same as when he was alive, and pass the night with his wife in conjugal intercourse.” I said, “They say too that deceased martyrs are capable of begetting children in these circumstances, and it is well known that this is a fact. In the pargana town of Basāwar, which was my birthplace, an Afghān named Isḥāq suffered martyrdom but used to consort with his newly-married wife after his death, visiting her every Friday night. He ordered her to keep the matter secret, but shortly afterwards, when the woman became pregnant, she was accused of misconducting herself. On being much pressed she revealed the whole matter to her mother-in-law, Isḥāq's mother, and one Friday night showed her the form of her son. The mother cried out, calling her son by name, and tried to embrace him. The shape vanished, and from that day forth Isḥāq appeared no more. His mother dug a well and named it after him, and the well exists to this day. How can these things be?” Mīr Sayyid ‘Alī answered, “They are possible, and they are not contrary to reason.” Mīrzā Niẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad said, “It may be that a jinn appeared in the outward form of the Martyr.” The Mīr said, “A jinn has not the power to appear in the semblance of the bodies of prophets, saints, pious men, and martyrs.”

The death of the Mīr occurred in the year H. 1002 (A.D. 1593-94), or H. 1003 (A.D. 1594-95). One of the learned men ⁹⁶ of the time found that the words, “The religious leader of mankind,” ^146a gave the date of his death. The Mīr's worthy son, Mīr Sayyid Maḥmūd, has succeeded him.

He was the grandson of Maulānā Mu‘īn the preacher, a wellknown man, the author of the Ma‘āriju-'n-nubūwah.¹⁴⁷ Shaikh Mu‘īn (of whom I am writing) was an angel in human form. He was employed for some time, under the farmān of the Khalīfah of the age, as Qāẓī of Lāhōr. They say that he never decided a case, and that if a plaintiff pressed for the decision of his suit he would with much insistence and lamentation and with protestations of his own incompetence, say, “For God's sake compromise the matter between you, so that I may avoid responsibility, and have no cause for repentance or shame.” He would also say, “You both know all about the case; it is my misfortune that I, who know nothing of it, am left alone to decide between two who knew all about it. Do not, then, give me cause to be ashamed before the Court of God, the Most High!” If a woman prayed for a separation from her husband on the ground of his absence from her he would provide her with means of livelihood to the extent of his ability, and would say, “Take this much for your subsistence and await your husband's return: do not separate from him.”

He devoted his subsistence allowance, over which he had exclusive rights, to the pay of scribes, whom he used to employ to copy valuable books, and he used to collate the copies and have them bound, and would then present them to students. This was his principal occupation and employment throughout his life, and he must have distributed thousands of such volumes to the people.

In the year H. 995 (A.D. 1587) he took his departure from this world, the sojourning place of toil, for the garden of eternity, leaving two sons, one of whom is famous in all riots and combats for his skill in wrestling, while the other is a noted pigeon-flier. On account of these accomplishments their names were mentioned the Emperor, and he was a spectator of their performances. ⁹⁷ “The living comes forth from the dead and the dead comes forth from the living.”¹⁴⁸

He was a Saifī Sayyid descended from Ḥasan. He was well-versed both in those branches of knowledge which depend upon the exercise of the reasoning faculties and in those which depend upon the exercise of the memory. Every step in his pedigree is historical, as Ḥairatī, the famous poet, wrote in an ode in praise of Qāẓī Yaḥyā, the venerable father of the Mīr:—

“Tales of history should be heard from his lips,
For no one has seen his like in history.”

He or one of his relations found the date of the perversion of Shāh Isma‘īl in the words, “the untrue religion.” When he was arrested in consequence he said, “I said ‘the religion’ wrongly,”^148a and obtained his freedom by this artifice. The Saifī Sayyids were all bigoted Sunnīs, and Shāh Ṭahmāsp deprived them of their families and estates on this charge, and this was the cause of Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf's coming to India. I heard this from Mīrzā Ghiyāṯu-'d-dīn ‘Alī,^148b who is entitled Āṣaf Khān. When Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf and his family fell into disfavour with the (Persian) king, Mīr ‘Alā'u-'d-daulah, the writer of the Taẕkirah, who was the younger brother of ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf and had been brought up by him, and who used to call him Ḥaẓrat-i-Āqā, with some object of his own in view wrote an ode, declaring his complete separation and estrangement from his brother. One of the hemistichs of that ode is as follows:—

98 People said to him, “The Mīr brought you up by his side, why have you insulted him?” He answered, “Do you not see that I have shown my gratitude to him by mentioning him by the title of Ḥaẓrat-i-Āqā, while I have mentioned my father by his name only, without any honorific title?” To be brief, the depraved heretics worked on the mind of Shāh Ṭahmāsp, and completely alienated him from Mīr Yaḥyā, and the Shāh sent a royal messenger, a man of devilish aspect, and in appearance like the guardians of hell, from Āẕarbā'ījān with a written order which ran as follows:—“Since Mīr Yaḥyā and his son Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf are full of zeal for the Sunnī persuasion, and are the chief cause of the staunchness of the Sunnīs of Qazvīn, therefore take both these men, and collect all the Sunnī books which can be found within the limits of their jurisdiction, and send them to me, and take their wives and families to Iṣfahān.” Thereupon Mīr ‘Alā'u-'d-daulah who was then in Āẕarbāījān sent a swift messenger with a letter to this effect, and the royal messengers arrested Mīr Yaḥyā who was known as “Yaḥyā the innocent,”¹⁴⁹ and he was kept in Iṣfahan in bonds for eighteen months, until he was released at once from those bonds and from the bonds of this world of vexation and anguish. Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf sought safety in flight and withdrew himself for a time to the mountains, and, relying on the promise of his late Majesty, came to India where he was honoured by being received into the imperial service and was gladdened by the emoluments which he received through the boundless liberality and generosity of the emperor. His present majesty also took some lessons from him in various passages of the Dīvān of Khāja Ḥāfiẓ and other books.

On the 5th Rajab in the year H. 981 (Oct. 31, 1573) in the new town of Fatḥpūr Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf took his departure for paradise, the abode of bliss, and obtained the everlasting blessings of the heavenly damsels and mansions, and was buried on the ramparts of the fortress of Ajmer close to Mīr Sayyid Ḥus-sain, “Khing-sawār.”^149a Qāsim-i-Arsalān found the chronogram ⁹⁹ “The glory of the race of Yas”¹⁵⁰ for the date of his death.

Mīr ‘Abdu-'l-Laṭīf's fortunate, noble, and orthodox son Mīrzā Ghiyāṯu-'d-dīn ‘Alī-yi-Ākhund, entitled Naqīb Khān,^150a who is endowed with angelic qualities and adorned with the graces and perfection of learning, has no equal either in Arabia or in Persia in his knowledge of works on travel, of history, and of chronicles, as has been said before. The author is more intimate with him than with any of the courtiers, and was his schoolfellow from childhood. He is now strenuously employed, night and day, in the imperial service, and for a whole generation past has been engaged in reading works on history, books of story, and anecdotes, and legends, both in Persian and in Hindi, which latter works have in these days been translated. One may say indeed that he has become a part of the life of the Khalīfah of the age, who never dreams of losing his companionship for a moment. Of late he has been suffering from slight fever, but it is hoped that he will be blessed with a rapid recovery and complete restoration to health. Since the good are everywhere acceptable may they live long! As for the evil ones of the age, what need is there to utter prayers for them? The evil that they do brings its own reward and evil befalls the tongue which pollutes itself by the mention of these nameless scoundrels.