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

This volume completes the translation of the Muntakhabu-'t-tawārī kh of ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir b. Mulūk Shāh, al-Badāonī, in the Bibliotheca Indica series. Its sources are those enumerated by Lieutenant-Colonel G. S. A. Ranking in the preface to his translation of volume I.

It was begun as long ago as 1897, but owing to the constant pressure of official duties was not finished until 1909, and even then could not be immediately printed owing to difficulties in the way of allotting funds for the expenses of publication. The index and list of errata have only lately been finished.

Frequent interruptions in the work are responsible for some inconsistencies in transliteration—such, for instance, as Shamsu-'d-din and Shams-ud-din, Khāja, Kh'āja, and Khẉāja. My excuse for the frequent omission of any equivalent for the letter ◌ in transliterating the latter word is that the translation was made, for the most part, in India, where the frequent pronunciation of this mute letter was so offensive that at the time I judged it better to preserve the correct pronunciation by omitting it. I confess that this is not a very good excuse for the omission of a letter, but it is the best that I can offer.

I have nothing to add to Lieutenant-Colonel Ranking's remarks on the difficulty of translating from Persian, except that they apply with peculiar force to an author like Badāonī, writing in a language not his own. His style is stilted and inelegant, as must nearly always be the case with an author labouring under this disadvantage, and he persists in one error —the misuse of the word ◌, which means “ungrudging emulation,” but is always used by him in the sense of “envy” —but it is free from the bombastic prolixity and gross affectation of that of his compatriot and contemporary, Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl.

As this volume of the historian's work consists to a great extent of literary criticism, I have been careful to translate both his text and the excerpts of verse quoted by him as literally as possible, in order to convey some idea, however faint, of his standard of literary excellence. In only one or two passages, to which reference is made in notes, have I ventured to modify expressions which in an English dress would have been merely ridiculous; but I am conscious that many of the passages which I have rendered more exactly will appear grotesque. This was unavoidable, and is due partly to the wide divergence between the standards of taste of Persian writers of the sixteenth and English readers of the twentieth centuries, and partly to Badāonī's own defects.

A few passages are so indecent that I have been constrained to veil them in such disguise as a dead language affords. To this practice it may be objected that it calls attention to what is unseemly, but a book of this nature will seldom be taken up but by genuine seekers after knowledge, who are not likely to suffer harm from the obscenities of Badāonī, or of those whom he quotes.

Interruptions in the work of translation are also responsible for a rather long list of errata, for which, and for other imperfections I crave the indulgence of my readers.

W. H.

TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN.

April 7, 1924.

I will state at the outset¹ that as the author of the Tārīkh-i-Niẓāmī ^1a has given an account of the nobles of the realm immediately after his history of the empire, and as most of them are now dead, and gone to perdition,^1b

[In no one have I seen fidelity,
If thou hast found one who possesses it convey to him my
blessing.]

I will refrain from polluting the nib of my pen with a description of such worthless wretches, and will commence with the enumeration of some of the holy men of the age, for an account of noble men who have chosen the way of God is in every way to be preferred to an account of scoundrels and debauchees. And so will I not be a mark for threats and comminations.^1c (“Throw dust on the faces of those who praise without stint,” and again, “may God protect us from the wickedness of tyrants.”)^1d An account of the base acts of the followers (of the Divine Faith),^1e

with whose unclean existence the age is polluted may be thus described:—

Their letters do not spell sense,²
Nor do their thoughts tend in the direction of sense;
Think meanly of the base, and of those whose faith is weak,
Form the same estimate of the latter as of the former.
When one can call to mind one's friends,
And so make the heart a garden of sweet memories,
Pity were it to mention one's enemies
For that were to quit the sweet garden for the midden.^2a

The holy men by whose noble existence the reign of Akbar ^2. Shāh was adorned have now, for the most part, withdrawn, as the ‘anqā^2b retires to the mountains of Qāf, to the neighbourhood of the Great God. It is as though they had all conspired together to roll up and remove the baggage of life from this dwelling of care and deceit and to take up their abode in the home of joy and bliss. And now of that caravan not one remains to encourage stragglers.

“The mansions are deserted, temporary and permanent
dwelling alike,
“Nothing remains but owls and rubbish.”^2c

I shall begin with that class of men who were regularly employed in the Imperial service until^2d their fame reached such a pitch that it was as manifest as the sun at midday.

Miyāṅ Ḥātim^3a was a profound sage who passed very many years in teaching. He was endowed with both inward and outward perfection. While he was engaged in acquiring knowledge he was overcome by religious ecstasy,^3b and, forsaking scholastic disputations, attached himself as a disciple to his teacher, Shaikh Azīzu-'llāh, a learned man of Ṭalamba,^3c who was of those who are truly wise in the way of God, and was one of the most highly regarded of the holy men of his time. He also spent some time in the service of Shaikh ‘Alāu-'d-Dīn Cishtī^3d of Dihlī, (may God sanctify his soul!) following his rule, and obtained from both of these holy men permission to perfect their students and disciples. At the time when he was first drawn towards God he wandered about for ten years, bareheaded and barefooted, in the waste country round about Sambhal and Amroha,^3e and during all this time his head touched not bed or bolster. He was a man who took keen pleasure in contemplating God and whom the singing of God's praises threw into an ecstasy of delight, and ever, as he spoke and smiled, the name of God was on his tongue. In his last years the intoxication of joy which he experienced in his love for God so overpowered him that to, listen but for a short space to the chanting of God's praises placed him beside himself. He had not the strength to listen to hymns.

When I, in the year 960 A.H. (A.D. 1553), being then in my twelfth year, arrived in company with my father at Sambhal, ^3. and there entered the service of the Shaikh, I learnt by heart, in his hospice, the Qaṣīda-yi-burda,⁴ and thus gained admission (to the ranks of his disciples), and there I also read, to my great spiritual advantage and profit, part of the book Kanz-i-fiqh-i-Ḥanafī .^4a The Shaikh then enrolling me among his direct disciples said to my father, “I have bestowed upon your son the cap and the tree^4b which descend from my spiritual teacher Miyāṅ Shaikh ‘Azīzu-'llāh for this reason, that he may acquire also some exoteric knowledge” (i.e., beyond the esoteric knowledge which he was to acquire). And for this praise be to God. In the year 969 A.H. (A.D. 1561-2) the holy Shaikh went into God's Presence, and the words “the wise darvīsh”^4c give the date of his death. May God make his dust fragrant! And it so happened that my father too received the summons of God's mercy in the same year. One might say that the position in which he stood to the Shaikh as his disciple made it necessary that he should so follow him.

He was the Khalīfah⁵ or deputy of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Quddūs of Gangoh^5a (may God sanctify their tombs!) His attainments, both in exoteric and in esoteric learning, were great, and he employed himself in imparting instruction in divinity and in the spreading abroad of those branches of knowledge which are, as the subject of divine revelation, certainly proved. In his last years he abandoned the pursuit of secular knowledge and, choosing privacy rather than publicity, spent his valuable time in reading through the blessed Qur'ān, in performing works of supererogation, and in praise and prayer. When he was ninety-three years of age he was exceedingly weak and feeble, so that there seemed to be nothing remaining of him but skin and bone.

Couplet.

When the veins of an aged man, in consequence of his
abandonment of worldly desires, stand out on his skin.
Then it is that he becomes, as it were, a ruler to guide
disciples in the way of righteousness.^5b

And although he had not so much strength left as enabled him to sit down and rise up^5c and to move about, and used, in ^4. consequence of his feebleness and weakness, to lie all day long in a reclining position, yet no sooner did he hear the call to prayer than he would, without the assistance of anybody, rise up, put on his shoes, take his staff in his hand, perform his ceremonial ablutions by himself and without any help, and stand up for his prayers.⁶ This done he would again recline in his wonted position on his couch. I twice had the honour of attending on him, once in the year H. 969 (A.D. 1561-2), in Āgra, when he had come there to settle the matter of his aima^6a holding in Thānesar^6b and to have the subject represented, and again in the year A.H. 981 (A.D. 1573-4) when I was accompanying Ḥusain Khān in his pursuit of Ulugh Mīrzā.^6c He seemed to me to be a quantity of (divine) light in bodily form. He bade farewell to this transitory world in the year A.H. 989 (A.D. 1581), May God remember him to his good!

He was the disciple of Shaikh Ẓuhūr and Ḥājī Ḥuzūr, otherwise known as Ḥājī Ḥamīd, and his spiritual descent could be traced back, through the line of the Shaṭṭārī order of ascetics to Shaikh Bāyazīd of Busṭām,⁷ the prince of knowers of God. (May God sanctify his soul!) When entering on the religious life he spent twelve years on the lower slopes of the hills of Canār^7a and the adjoining country, practising the most severe austerities, having his dwelling in caves and subsisting on the leaves of trees. He was an acknowledged master in the science of exorcism,^7b he possessed supernatural power, and was drawn in a mysterious manner towards God.^7c He obtained leave to practise this science (scil. exorcism) from his elder brother, Shaikh Buhlūl,^7d who was a worker of miracles and wonders. His late Majesty, the Emperor Humāyūn, on whom God's mercy has descended, had the greatest faith in and attachment to these two saints, so much so that there were very few that ranked with them in his estimation. From these venerable men he learnt the science of exorcism. After the rebellion in India, when Shīr ^5. Shāh began to oppress Shaikh Muḥammad, he betook himself to Gujarāt where also he brought princes and rulers under the yoke of subjection to him and⁸ belief in his teaching, so that all alike were ready to do him service. Shaikh Wajīhu-'d-Dīn too, a knower and a^8a doer of the things that belong to God, a profound thinker and a teacher, drew upon his shoulders the saddle-cloth of obedience to Shaikh Muḥammad. All these things are an indication of the Shaikh's perfections and of his power of working miracles. Many other great and famous holy men in Dihlī, Gujarāt, and Bangāl have risen from the fringe of his robe,^8b and memorials of his perfection still remain in Hindūstān. One day in the year H. 966 (A.D. 1558-9) I saw him from afar off, riding along in the market place at Āgra, a throng of the common people surrounding and preceding him, so that no one could pass through the crowd. In his courteous humility his head was never for one moment still, as he returned the salutations of the people on either side of him, bowing continually down to his saddle-bow. It was in this year that he came from Gujarāt to Āgra, and with much exhortation and persuasion, availing himself of the influence of those about the Court, enrolled the Emperor Akbar, then a youth, among his disciples, but the Emperor soon rejected his teaching, and since Shaikh Muḥam-mad's companionship was distasteful to the Khān-i-Khānān, Bairam Khān,^8c and to Shaikh Gadāī,^8d he withdrew, ill pleased, to Gwāliyār, where he spent his time in perfecting his disciples, and, having built an hospice, occupied himself with the ecstatic dances of darvīshes,⁹ chanting, and giving way to transports of religious ecstasy.^9a He himself also wrote books on these subjects. Clad in the garments of poverty he held a high and majestic position, and possessed a subsistence allowance of a karor of tankas.^9b Whomsoever he saw, were he a beggar even, he treated with great honour, standing before him. For this reason some few from among those who were vowed to poverty blamed him, and denied (that he was a true ascetic).^9c But God alone knows what his motives were in this matter.

Couplet.

Since God in His omniscience alone knows whether a soul is
to be rejected or accepted,
“Judge not lest thou be judged.” ^6.9d

In the year H. 970 (A.D. 1562-3), after completing his eightieth year, he died in Āgra, leaving this world for the next, and was buried in Gwāliyār. He was generous to a degree, and it is said that the word “I” never passed his lips, and that he always referred to himself as “this humble one.” So particular was he in this matter that even when giving away corn in charity he would say “Mīm and Nūn,¹⁰ give this much corn to such an one,” in order to avoid the necessity of saying “I.” May God shower his mercy plenteously upon him!

Burhān was an ascetic of great resignation and piety, and a very prince among those who have chosen a life of religious seclusion and retirement, and of independence of worldly concerns. It is said that he was once for three days in company with Miyān Ilāhdād of Bārī,^10a of the spiritual line of the famous Mīr Sayyid Muḥammad of Jaunpur,^10b (may God sanctify his soul), there being only one intermediary between them, and that it was on that occasion that he acquired this excellence, and attained to perfection. He had subjected himself to severe discipline and possessed great self-control. For nearly fifty years (before his death) he had abstained from flesh-meat and from most other articles of food and drink, contenting himself with a little milk and some sweet-meats; and at the end of his life he abstained also from drinking water, so that to outward appearance he was an incorporeal spiritual form, supernaturally illuminated. He had in Kālpī a very small and dark cell in which he constantly sat, engaged in reciting God's praises and in meditation and contemplation. He used also to retain his breath,¹¹ after the fashion of the Mahdavīs, and although he had never studied any of the sciences treated of in Arabic literature he used to give most eloquent dissertations on the Qur'ān. He was a reader of the secrets of human hearts. When I was returning from Canār (Chunār) in A.H. 967 (A.D. 1559-60) during the rule of ‘Abdu-'llāh Khān the Ūzbak^11a I spent a night in attendance on the Shaikh, whose conversation was sublime. He recited, appositely ^7. to the occasion, some of his own Hindī poetry of which the subjects were exhortation, admonition, mysticism,^11b the longing of the human soul for God,^11c the Unity of God, and withdrawal from the world. The next day Mihr ‘Alī Sildūz,^11d who, in spite of his friendship towards holy men, was to some extent a slave to his own Turkish nature, and was something of a bully and a tyrant,

[I have been the slave of that man of perfect nature, from
the day on which he said,
“The Turk, though he become a mullā, can never become a
man.”]

was honoured, by means of an introduction from me, with an interview with the Shaikh. Now it so happened that about an hour before this time he had severely beaten and kicked some of his servants and attendants, and had abused them in most unbecoming language before mounting his horse to go for a ride. When we sat down together the first words the Shaikh uttered were, “The prophet (may God bless and save him!) said, ‘The (true) Muslim is he who (courteously) salutes (other) Muslims both with his hand and with his tongue.’” The Shaikh uttered this precious aphorism and sublime truth with special reference to the occasion, and Mihr ‘Ali rose to his feet for the purpose of excusing himself, and, after expressing his contrition and shame he begged the Shaikh to recite the fātiḥah¹² on his behalf, offering to him, at the same time, something by way of a present, which was not accepted.

The Shaikh reached the age of nearly one hundred years and departed this life in the year A.H. 970 (A.D. 1562-3). I have made the following chronogram on his death:—

In accordance with the terms of his will he was buried in the cell to which he had retired—may God shed light upon his resting-place!

He belonged to the Qādirī^12c order. On first entering the religious ^8. life he subjected himself to a most rigorous discipline. He was a man who was mysteriously drawn towards God^12d and was subject to fits of religious ecstasy. He had a sweet voice and when he was in one of his fits of ecstasy he would chant so sweetly as to touch the hearts of all who heard him; the flavour of that ecstatic song still lingers on the palate of my soul. In his earlier years he acquired exoteric knowledge and was engaged in teaching. He had an ardent love for such forms as display, in their beauty, the power of the Creator, nor was he ever at any time free from the bonds of that love which is transferred from the Creator to the creature,¹³ and when in these bonds he lost all self-control, and, putting aside all dissimulation and restraint took no account of the praise or blame of others, careless alike of their disapprobation and their approval. For this reason was he known as Shaikh Muḥammad-i-‘Āshiq, or “the lover.” In A.H. 985 (A.D. 1579) he transferred the baggage of his existence to that land where the soul is united to God.^13a The words “the sixth of Shavvāl”^13b give the date of his death. May God make his soul fragrant!

He was an old man in whom shone the Divine Light, ascetic in his habits, having complete trust in God, and uncontrollable religious enthusiasm. He lived a retired and solitary life, keeping the door of ingress and egress shut to himself. Every Friday he held in his hospice a meeting of Ṣūfīs,¹⁴ and would insist upon the assembly joining in ecstatic songs and dances, and, how much soever one might excuse himself from this, the Shaikh would work himself up into a state of religious ecstasy, and his phrensy would extend, in its full power, to the rest. On the conclusion of this religious exercise food was served. The Shaikh made no distinction between king and beggar. Bairām Khān, the Khān-i-Khānān,^14a used generally to recite his Friday prayers in the Shaikh's masjid, and the effects of his companionship with the Shaikh were seen in his increased tenderness of heart. In sitting down and rising, in taking food, and in all other observances of etiquette no difference was made by the Shaikh between him and anybody else.

He was a conspicuous example of the degree of divine knowledge which is within the reach of man. He was a very crucible of love for God, in which the pure gold of his being was ever at melting heat, until it reached the extreme limit of refinement and purity. This being his condition he was constantly weeping in his ardent desire for God, to such an extent that the world has never seen his equal. No sooner did the sound of a holy song or chant fall upon his ear than one would say that a violent wind had arisen, and was blowing through a fiery tempest. Praise be to God! What love and affection for God were seen in the noble nature of that great man! In the phrensied dance (of darvīshes) and when he was vying with other mystics in working himself up into a state of ecstasy,¹⁵ occupations which formed the morning and evening exercises of his blessed condition, a flint, could it have looked upon his face, would have become softer than wax.

Shaikh ‘Azīzu-'llāh had been the disciple of his own respected father, Shaikh Ḥasan, and acquired some of his excellence from his own elder brother, Shaikh Muḥammad Ḥasan, the spiritual guide and master of Shaikh Mān of Pānīpat. His life was governed by the rules of poverty, indigence, and humility. To champion the cause of the poor and helpless who came to him with their complaints he would travel long distances on foot, even though he had at the time entered into a forty days' retreat,^15a and though he had to visit the house of one who was without the pale of the faith in order to gain his object. After successfully fulfilling the wants of the applicant he would return to the cell of retirement and engage in his religious exercises as though no break had occurred in his retreat. He used to give to this worship, which benefited others, precedence and place before that worship the rewards of which are confined to the worshipper.^15b And it would sometimes happen that an unbeliever or an oppressor would pay no heed to his intercession on the first occasion, or, (knowing that the Shaikh was without), would purposely remain within doors, and the Shaikh would sit the livelong day expectant at his door, without being able to see his face. But on successive days^15c the Shaikh would go again and again¹⁶ to his door and would sit in silence, nor would this slighting treatment produce on the clear mirror of his heart, ^10. which reflected the hidden knowledge of God, the rust of resentment. He would thus sit until the person to whom the intercession was to be made fell, shamed and remorseful, at his feet, and promptly and obediently fulfilled the desire of the beggar.

One day the Shaikh was present at a meeting of the mystics engaged in ecstatic songs and dances, as their custom is,^16a held by that prince of holy men Shaikh Niẓām-i-Auliyā, (may God sanctify his most pure tomb!), when a wretched maniac, uttering a yell, seized the Shaikh by the knees, and, lifting him up, turned him heels over head on the floor, so that his turban was disarranged, and he was hurt, but in outward appearance^16b he was in no way disturbed. At the time this act of the maniac was attributed to religious ecstasy and he was held to be excused, but the demented fool repeated his abominable trick on a subsequent occasion, when the magistrate of the city proposed to recall his scattered senses by means of a severe caution, a beating, and threats of what would happen to him in the future. The Shaikh made much intercession for him, and, kissing his hands and feet, kept him under his own protection, and did not suffer them to molest him in any way. In exoteric knowledge he was perfect himself,^16c and used to perfect others, and he used to instruct his pupils in the expounding of the ‘Arā'is,¹⁷ and of the ‘Awārif^17a and of the Fuṣūṣu-'l-Ḥikam^17b and its commentary. He was also the author of some well-known works, among them being the Risāla-yi-‘Ainiyyah written as a reply to the Ghairiyyah^17c of Shaikh Mān of Pānīpat. Many obscure questions relating to the unity of essence^17d are therein treated of,^17e in accordance with the interpretation of perfect knowers of God.^17f

At the time of the Khān-i-Khānān's disgrace,¹⁸ and also for some years afterwards, I studied under that master of perfection, and listened to the recital of several books and treatises on mysticism,^18a and digested their contents—praise be to God. In the year H. 975 (A.D. 1567-68) the falcon of his soul winged its flight to the pinnacle of eternity, and the words “the pole-star of the path is gone,”^18b were found to give the date of his death. He always wrote himself in his treatises, writings, and letters “the worthless atom,” and it was found that the words “the worthless atom”^18c also gave the date of his death.

He was one of the descendants of the venerable Shaikh Farīd-i-Shakarganj^18e

(may God sanctify his soul), and his native place was Dihlī. He stood in the relation of a disciple to Khājah Ibrāhīm (who was spiritually descended through five intermediaries from the most bountiful Khāja, the ascetic Fuẓail Ibn ‘Iyāẓ—¹⁹ may the mercy of God be upon him!) through whose instrumentality also he was first turned towards God. He twice travelled by land and sea from India to the two most holy places of pilgrimage, ^19a there to perform the duties of the pilgrimage.^19b He set forth on his travels, journeying to Asia Minor, Baghdād, Syria, Najaf,²⁰ (that holy spot), and other countries of the western regions, spending the whole year in travelling, returning to the glorious city of Makkah at the time of the pilgrimage, and then again setting out on his travels. In this manner he performed the pilgrimage twenty-two times, fourteen times during his first period of absence from India, and eight times during his second period of absence. On this latter occasion he spent four years in the glorious city of Makkah and four years in the delightful city of Madīnah, and during his sojourn in Makkah he used to spend the period during which Muḥammad's birthday occurred in Madīnah, and the period of the pilgrimage at Makkah. Shaikh Ya‘qūb of Kashmīr who accompanied Shaikh Salīm gave the date of his latter visit to Makkah in the following couplets:—

Thanks be to God, of whose mere bounty
The holy region became our halting-place.
If any one ask the date of this event
We answer him, “We entered the holy region.”^20a

And in that country he was known as Shaikhu-'l-Hind, or the holy man of India. He reached the age of ninety-five and travelled always in the path of the holy law delivered by the prophet (may God bless and save him!), always observing the most severe austerities and the most austere discipline, to a degree which can have been attained by but few of the holy men of this age. He observed, as a religious duty, the ceremonial purification and bathing before each of the five daily recitals of prayers, nor did he omit this duty before the weekly public prayers.

^12. When Shaikh Mān of Pānīpat, (may God sanctify his tomb!), enjoyed companionship with Shaikh Salīm he put to him this question:—“Was it induction or revelation that was the means of your attaining to your goal?” Shaikh Salīm replied, “Our means is ‘heart to heart.’”^20b Very many holy men who have reached perfection received their training in his service and companionship, and became his deputies and successors. Among them was the Shaikh²¹ who after being perfected received authority to impart religious instruction to other disciples, and whose history is wellknown. Another was Shaikh Kamāl of Alwar, an old man inflamed and enwrapped with zeal, resembling in disposition the leaders among holy men. Another was Shaikh Piyāra of Bangāl, a man distracted with the grief of longing after God. His fame is great in the country of Bangāl.^21a Another was Shaikh Fatḥu-'llāh Tarīn of Sambhal. Another was Shaikh Ruknu-'d-dīn of Ajūdhan,^21b and another was Ḥusain the Khādim, who was the best of Shaikh Salīm's deputies, and the midmost pearl in the string (of his disciples). He was the chief decider of abstruse questions in the hospice at Fatḥpūr. When Shaikh Salīm returned a second time to India the writer of these lines heard that he had attained to an extensive knowledge of, and pre-eminent proficiency in the Arabic language. I therefore sent him a letter containing two chronograms^21c of his two auspicious arrivals, which have been mentioned above. A verbatim copy of the letter is set forth below.

Verily the religion which is approved by God is Islām.

Verse.

Salutations to those who walk round the Ka‘bah,
By the circumambulation of which the pilgrimage of noble
men is consummated,
Salutations to those who dwell in a place,
In which he who surpassed all men lodgeth.²²

I present the duties of prayers, the breezes of the sweet odours ^13. of which perfume the cells of the gathering places of holiness, and I send pages of greetings, the sweet odours of the waftings of which scent the meetings of the caravans of kindly fellowship. (These I send) to that high presence and to that exalted throne, the place of prostration for the foreheads of the great kings of the age—the spot to be kissed by the lips of the emperors of the cycle—the titles of which the imagination cannot comprehend by its intelligence, before the door of which titles are cast down— the high presence of the sun, which stands in need of neither praise nor description—that is, to the presence of the pattern for men, of him who is followed at this time, the Shaikhu-'l-Islām, may his shadow be ever extended over the heads of all creatures in general, and over the foreheads of the bands of feeble seekers after knowledge in particular. And since they (scil. my prayers and greetings) spring from sincerity of intention and proceed from singleness of heart, I hope that they will meet with the honour of acceptance, and the attainment of everything that is hoped for and prayed for is from God. After the performance of what is incumbent on the neck of one of your slaves²³ and on the conscience of my soul may it become clear to your enlightened mind, the mirror of what is hidden, aye, to your great heart, the mirror of certainty, that not the half of a line of the hardship of separation from you and of the violence of the pain of longing after you can be contained in vessels of letters,^23a should all the trees in the earth become pens, and should the sea (become ink) with seven more seas^23b to swell its tide, in the passage of time and its changes. And the heart is the most faithful witness, as is well affirmed.

Verse.

“God knows that my soul has perished
“With desire of thee, but thou revivest it;^23c
“And a sight of thee, Oh, object of my desire, and my hope!
“Is more pleasant to me than the world and all that it
contains.”

And your slave, distracted with love, has striven with an utter striving and has endeavoured with a supreme effort to obtain the felicity²⁴ of enjoying your noble company, and of hearing some of your polished discourse, but Fate assists not my designs, and ascent to the heaven of eminence is no easy matter.

Verse.

It is not everything that man desires that he obtains,
The wind blows in the direction which the ships do not
desire.

^14. In spite of this my reliance on the noble beneficence^24a of God is firm, and my hope in His gracious and boundless favours is sincere, (my hope being) that my eye may be suffused with light by the sight of your beauty, even as my heart is filled with the contemplation of the idea of you. Verily, God answereth our prayers and doth not disappoint us.

Verse.

I place my hope in God for the attainment of gifts,
And my Lord is the giver of what his slave desires.

And it is not far from your wonderful beneficence that you should give me to read an odour-diffusing epistle and send for me with a kind invitation. It is not fitting that the footsteps of my pen should wander more than this over the carpet of familiarity, and that the dove of composition should (any longer) sing on the branch of the tree of glee, and it is best to stop short at this period, and most meet and fitting to curtail (my letter) at the point of prayer (for you). May your exalted nature not cease to be protected from the casualties of ill-hap, and secured from the lightning-like mishaps of night and day.

Verse.

May you last as long as time, O refuge of the people of the
time!
This is the prayer of all creatures.

May God answer the prayer of his servant, by the right of him after whom there comes no one.”²⁵

This letter was dated in the course of the years mentioned above. When I paid my respects to the Shaikh in the year H. 976 (A.D. 1568-69) having been introduced by Shaikh A‘ẓam of Badāon, who was both son-in-law and cousin to Shaikh Salīm, he asked me “How has the position of the tomb of the prophet^25a (may God bless and save him) been determined in the books of ‘the sayings’ with regard to the tombs of the two Shaikhs?^25b

(may God regard them both with favour!)” I said “In such a way, and others have said ‘in such another way.’” He said, “Sahrawardī, in the ‘Wāqi‘a-yi-Ṣā‘iqa,’²⁶ where he verifies the forms of the three tombs, gives preference to the former statement of the case.” In accordance with the Shaikh's exalted command I remained for two days with Shaikh A‘ẓam, who has been ^15. already mentioned, in a cell in the old hospice, and enjoyed detailed conversations with the Shaikh. Then I obtained leave to depart for Basāwar.^26a Subsequently, in the year H. 978 (A.D. 1570-71) I repeatedly had the honour of paying my respects to the Shaikh, and one of his extraordinary acts^26b which I observed was that in the cold wintry air of the highlands of Fatḥpūr he never wore anything on the upper part of his body but a shirt of a single thickness of fine cotton cloth,^26c woven thin, and an upper garment of muslin,^26d and this in spite of the duty that he imposed upon himself of bathing twice daily. His daily food in the quadragesimal fasts of union with God²⁷ was half a water-melon, or even less than that. He passed away to the next world in the year H. 979 (A.D. 1571-72) and the words “the Indian Shaikh”^27a were found to give the date of his death.

Ambeṭhī is the chief village of a pargana in the District of Lakhnau.^27b Shaikh Niẓām was the disciple and pupil of Shaikh Ma‘rūf-i-Cishtī, the line of whose spiritual descent goes back to Shaikh Nūr Quṭb-i-‘Ālam. He followed the ordinary rule of life (of an orthodox Muslim) but was at the same time drawn towards God in a mysterious manner.^27c Although he was at first one of the students of remunerative branches of knowledge^27d his exalted disposition yet led him to turn much towards the things of the next world. His eyes were ever fixed on the page and his heart fixed on God, nor was he neglectful of the service of ẕikr,^27e and the employment of the soul (in God's service).

Couplet.

Not for one moment do I turn my attention from that moon,²⁸
I fear lest it should glance towards me and I should not be
on the watch.

In a short time he obtained from his spiritual guide permission to impart religious instruction and to perfect disciples, and in the village of Ambeṭhī drew his foot within the skirt of contentment and withheld his footsteps from the doors of high and low, going nowhere except to the principal masjid of the Living God (in that ^16. place) and sometimes to Khairābād^28a to walk round the illustrious tomb of the venerable Shaikh Sa‘d, (may his tomb be sanctified!) and to see Shaikhu-'l-Hidyah,^28b the successor of Shaikh Ṣūfī, (may God sanctify his most pure tomb!), or to Gopāmau, in consequence of the friendship which he had for Qāẓī Mubārak of Gopāmau^28c who was one of his faithful disciples, a master of perfection, skilled in the holy law, and abstinent, and a very wealthy man. The Shaikh in the early days of his student life had first been attracted to God in the hospice of the Qāẓī's father. At long intervals he would take the trouble to go to Fatḥpur, by way of making a tour, to see Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Ghanī,^28d who also was one of the greatest among famous elders, and was held in the highest respect. Whenever he visited the hospice of Shaikhu-'l-Hidyah and the other places he would give of his worldly goods a rupee, a tanka, or some other offering, in accordance with the saying “Send presents to each other and you will love each other,”^28e and then would fall into an ecstasy of delight. I have heard that he once snatched the book “Fuṣūṣu-'l-Ḥikam”²⁹ from the hand of Shaikh Abū-'l-Fatḥ, the son of Shaikhu-'l-Hidyah, who is now his great father's representative and sits on his prayer-carpet of Shaikh-dom, and, taking it from him, gave him another book, saying, “Read this.” He made the books “Iḥyā'u-'l-‘Ulūm,”^29a “‘Awārif,” “Risāla-yi-Makkiyya,”^29b “Ādābu-'l-Murīdīn,”^29c [and other books of the same sort, the pivot on which his doctrine and practice turned, both in his religious duties and in the daily business of life. He always first recited the midday prayers with the congregation on Friday and afterwards recited the regular Friday prayers. In the khuṭbah^29d he altogether omitted the praises of kings. I saw him reciting the Friday prayers with his shoes on his feet, and he said “His holiness, the resort of apostleship, (may God bless and save him!) recited his prayers with his shoes on.” On one occasion one of his pupils desired to learn a lesson from the book known as Kāfiyah,^29e asking for the Shaikh's blessing on ^17. his lesson. The Shaikh pretended not to hear him. After much insistence and persistence on the part of the pupil the Shaikh said “Read some divinity.” He said, “This work too is on divinity, inasmuch as divinity depends upon it.” The Shaikh, in the warmth of his love for God, said, “How can divinity depend upon a book on which the first argument that has been advanced is that the author has omitted the praises of God, (may He be honoured and glorified!) from the introduction on account of his humility?” He rarely accepted a disciple, and (when he had one) he did not appoint his tasks for him or give him instruction.³⁰ Among his chosen disciples was Shaikh Ḥātim of Gopāmau whom he had removed from the class of students who read in the hospice of Qāẓī Mubārak and kept with himself. To please the boy he would sometimes read lessons to him, and would sometimes give him a book, and set tasks for him, until he completely won his heart, and sometimes he would give him a turban, or shoes, or clothes. The Qāẓī and the other students, when they saw these favours (bestowed upon Shaikh Ḥātim) were envious^30a of him. The holy Shaikh Niẓāmu-'d-dīn, perceiving signs of this jealousy, said, “What can be done? God the Most High has willed to bestow upon Ḥātim a portion of prosperity by means of these unsatisfactory gifts, a few clothes and old shoes.” Shaikh Niẓām obtained such complete power and utter influence over Ḥātim that in a short time he (Ḥātim) attained a great reputation, and Shaikh Niẓāmu-'d-dīn in expounding Divine truths and the mystic knowledge of God used to restrict the title of Shaikh to him alone. In the meanwhile^30b Shaikh Ḥātim experienced many ups and downs, and he was troubled with asthma, and various sicknesses, and just as he had acquired the right to be Shaikh Niẓamu-'d-dīn's deputy and successor he chose the path to the next world. The Shaikh would often say, “There was a servant of God to whom I used sometimes to teach the word of God, and he used to understand it. Now that he is gone to whom shall I speak of it?”

When I, the compiler of these historical selections, paid my respects to the Shaikh, Shaikh ‘Abdū-'z-Razzāq, who was both ^18. brother-in-law and father-in-law³¹ to him, was generally in conversation with him, and sometimes, but rarely, the Shaikh would go to see (or would go out walking with) Shaikh Muḥammad also, his true deputy (or successor),^31a who now adorns the prayer-carpet of the Shaikh with his presence, sitting as his successor. Since the late Muḥammad Ḥusain Khān,^31b some account of whom has already been recorded by my chronicling pen, and who was a man to whom I was bound by the bond of regard more closely than can be expressed in writing, entertained a desire to become a disciple of the holy Shaikh, he was privileged to pay his respects to him by the co-operation of Sayyid Aṣghar of Badāon and Qāẓī Aḥmad, the brother of Qāẓī Mubārak of Gopāmau;^31c and this happened at the time when Lakhnau was settled on Ḥusain Khān in jāgīr, in A.H. 976 (A.D. 1568-69). I observed³² that the Shaikh at the beginning of the interview addressed to everybody a few words appropriate to his condition, contenting himself with saying “Praise be to God” with the utterance of prayers, or restricting himself to such remarks as, “Glory be to God,” “there is no god but God,” “We seek protection of God,”^32a “In the name of God,” “there is no power or strength but with God,” or to the recitation of a verse from the glorious word (of God), or from the ḥadīth,^32b or from the sayings of noted saints. And every moment he glanced to his left, so that it seemed as though he were seeking from the master of the assembly^32c permission and leave to say something. On receiving leave from one of the company,^32d at the time when we were shaking hands with one another, he gave the Sayyid, mentioned above,^32e his blessing, saying to Qāẓī Aḥmad “Glory be to God,” and to me, “In the name of God,” using similar (pious) expressions to everybody present. At this very moment, before he could commence a conversation, a miserable worthless wretch of a student came up and recognized^32f the Shaikh, who, saying to him “I seek protection of God from the Devil, the execrable one,”^32g admitted him to the interview. He then began to expound^32h the verse of the Qur'ān, “Everything shall perish, except His face,”³²ⁱ

addressing his discourse to Shaikh ‘Abdu-'r-Razzāq who contented himself with saying “It is indeed so,” and “Yes,” (at intervals), occasionally pointing out some allusion. Nobody else had power ^19. to utter a word, awe and reverence preventing them. As for me, I was as though I was not,³³ and, reviewing my sins, sat in fear lest they should have been revealed to the Shaikh, and lest my inmost being should be laid bare to the light of day,^33a secretly watching all the while for an opportunity to escape from the assembly. At that moment that student asked, “Why should not the (possessive) pronoun affixed to the word wajh^33b (face) be referred to some thing, as masters of the secret knowledge of God have said?” The Shaikh, the moment he heard this speech, became much agitated, and the colour of his blessed countenance^33c turned to red and yellow, and he said, “Did I not, when I first set eyes on this devil, repeat the formula “We seek protection, etc.,” and now, in the manner which we have just heard, his devilry has become apparent?” And when he discovered what the student's design was he repeated several times the formula, “There is no power or strength but with God,” and quoted the following couplet from the Qaṣīda-yi-Burda:—^33d

“O thou who blamest me for my pure affection, excused
“Thou art by me therefor, but had'st thou done justice thou
would'st not have blamed me.”^33e

Intense love for God overpowered the Shaikh and he ordered the student to be turned out of the assembly, but afterwards, calling him back again, he appeased him, and the contemplation of this matter was a great warning to us who were present. That night passed very uncomfortably for me in the hospice, and I watched for the morning in order that I might escape. The early morning prayers³⁴ were recited with the Shaikh at the moment the true dawn began to appear, when we could not see one another's faces without a lamp, I indeed thinking that it was yet night. At sunrise the Shaikh came out of his cell and stood at the door of the masjid, ordering Miyāṅ Shaikh Muḥammad^34a to bring for us three whatever food might be ready, and I was in great agitation of mind, ever and again endeavouring to get Miyāṅ Shaikh Muḥammad to obtain leave from his master for me to depart. The holy Shaikh, with his Qur'ān in one hand and salt in the other ^20. was appositely expounding the blessed verse, “Make ready then against them what force ye can, and squadrons of horse,”^34b and so on to the end of the verse, ignoring my application for leave to depart. Apropos of what he was saying he then mentioned, in a most affectionate manner, Ḥusain Khan, who was at that time in the pargana of Isaulī,^34c and said, “He is my son.”^34d Then, following the dictates of his generous nature, which led him to bestow on every one, rich or poor, a piece of gold, or salt, or some other gift, he gave to me a tanka.

Of the miracles which I saw him perform, when I made that journey to visit him, this was one. As we three³⁵ were on the road to Ambeṭhī, journeying to pay our respects to the Shaikh (the road-police) had arrested a man dressed as beggar on a charge of theft and highway robbery, and had seized him by his clothes.^35a He in some way managed to effect his escape, and in that very hour came begging to the holy Shaikh; but notwithstanding all his persistence and lamentation the Shaikh gave him nothing. We who were present were much astonished, as we had often witnessed instances of the Shaikh's generosity. The Shaikh at once opposed and objected to^35b (our expressions of surprise) saying, “Look at the^35c thief, who both robs on the highway and poses as a beggar,” and he drove him out of our assembly. This caused great astonishment, and when we looked closely at the man we recognized him as the same person whom the road-police had laid hands on.

On the same day another occurrence, similar to this, took place, but an account of it would occupy much space.

On the last day of Ramaẓān, in the year already mentioned, we were travelling rapidly at night^35d with Ḥusain Khān, from his pargana to Ambeṭhī, and all our efforts were centred on reaching that place in time to recite the early morning prayers³⁶ in company with the Shaikh. The dawn had already appeared when, at three kurūh^36a distance from Ambeṭhī, we put spurs to our horses, and regretted that we were not in time for the public prayers.^36b We reached the Shaikh's masjid in Ambeṭhī as the sun was about to rise. At that moment the holy Shaikh, having come out of his house, was just commencing his prayers with the “Allāhu Akbar,”^{36c 21.} and he broke off, and we thought that we were just too late, but we nevertheless attained the great honour (which we sought). Now this act of the Shaikh was contrary to his usual custom, for he always recited the early morning prayers at a time when we thought that the true dawn had hardly appeared.

It chanced that towards the close of the same day the Shaikh was explaining the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs^36d in the masjid, and he read some^36e verses from the Dīvān of Khāja Hāfiẓ.^36f One of the companions of the late Ḥusain Khān asked whose disciple Khāja Ḥāfiẓ was, and the Shaikh said, “He was the disciple of Khāja Naqshband,”³⁷ (may God sanctify his soul!) Another, apropos of the same subject, asked “How was horse-flesh regarded in the religion of the greatest of the Imāms?”^37a (i.e., was it lawful food or not?) The Shaikh replied that the greatest of the Imāms himself ate horse-flesh, and when he reached this couplet:—

“The Ṣūfīs celebrate in one moment two ‘īds (great feasts)
“Spiders make pemmican of a fly.”^37b

then I too, trusting in my own singleness of heart, thoughtlessly asked, “What is meant by the ‘two ‘īds?’” This question annoyed the Shaikh and he angrily said, “Let Bāyazid^37c and Junaid,^37d or Shiblī^37e and Manṣūr^37f ask such a question as this. What have you to do with such a question?” And falling into this vein he spoke much on the subject, and I, hanging my head with shame, repented my indiscretion. Ḥusain Khān, biting his finger with consternation, looked ever and anon towards me, and his friends were all bewildered. Suddenly my lot was lightened by the rising of the (joyful) clamour which is heard on the appearance of the new moon of the ‘īd,³⁸ and all rose and busied themselves in mutual congratulations and hand-shakings. I rose, and on the plea of being fatigued went to recite my evening prayers in a tent which was pitched in a garden beside the masjid, feeling sick of life. When the holy Shaikh, going indoors, set food before his guests, he asked “Where is such an one?”^38a (i.e., Badāonī), Shaikh Muḥammad, his worthy successor,^38b answered, “By reason of the ^22. impertinence of which he was guilty he could not appear in the masjid, and he absented himself also from the public prayers. The Shaikh then sent me some food from his own table, with his blessing, and I was somewhat consoled, and entertained hopes of forgiveness. Early the next morning Ḥusain Khān went to Lakhnau, to join in celebrating the ‘īd there, and I alone remained in Ambeṭhī. The holy Shaikh recited the prayers of the festival in his masjid and afterwards occupied himself in giving instruction in the book known as the ‘Awārif.^38c Meanwhile Shaikh Muḥammad rose up to intercede for me, and asked that my fault might be forgiven. The Shaikh sent for me, and breaking off his teaching turned to me with great kindness, and when I, my eyes full of tears, placed my head on his foot, he embraced me and said “I bear no enmity or malice in my heart against anybody. Whatever I say is in the way of advice and spiritual instruction to the slaves of God, and abuse from me, as was the case with abuse from the prophet of God, (may God bless and save him), has on its object the same effect as praise (from another), and even if I utter a curse on anybody it has the same effect as a blessing.³⁹ Then, in affection, taking his cap from his blessed head, he gave it to me, and took me apart into the cell which was in the gate-house, and said “Perform your ceremonial ablutions in my presence, and recite your prayers.” I recited them wonderingly. He said to me, “Men say of me that I do not instruct students. What instruction can I give? My instruction and religious teaching are just this much, a tongue never weary of praising God and a thankful heart.” Then he became agitated like a stormy surging sea and said “My life is instruction sufficient for seekers after God, and walkers in His way.”^39a Just then two darvīshes from Sindh, breaking the Shaikh's custom, began to sing outside an Indian melody in mournful and grating tones, and my spiritual condition underwent a change^39b by means of the influence brought to bear on me at that time. Apropos of this (influence) the Shaikh said that the great companions (of Muḥammad),^39c (may God be gratified with them!), when they saw that the desert ‘Arabs newly converted to Islam were much affected by hearing the glorious Qur'ān read, ^23. regretted their own state, and the leader of the faithful, Abū-Bakr, the faithful witness of the truth, (may God be gratified with him!), said, “We were like you, but afterwards our hearts became hard: that is to say, they became firmly fixed and immoveable, so that they were like stones for lack of ability to be softened.”⁴⁰ Then the Shaikh read some sentences which were quite unfamiliar to my ear, and gave me permission to use the following prayer constantly:—“O God, I seek protection of Thee against deafness, dumbness, madness, leprosy, and leucoderma.” ^40a When I took my leave and came to Lakhnau I made a stay of some days there, and the Shaikh would sometimes send me a piece of salt, which he used generally to hold in his hand and lick when in an assembly, reciting this saying of Muḥammad, “Salt is a cure for seventy diseases, except death.”^40b And he would sometimes also send me some uncooked^40c rice, and sometimes an earthenware jar, and other presents, and he received my younger brother, the late Shaikh Muḥammad, into the company of his disciples and pupils, and in a short time, being blessed^40d with the holy Shaikh's regard he acquired angelic qualities and a love for the practice of ascetism. He generally observed the continued fast,^40e and spent his time in reading the glorious Qur'ān, in reciting God's praises, in exorcism, and in works of supererogation, so that not one hour of his precious life was wasted, or was passed in idleness, as mine has been.

“In respect of rose-water and the rose the decree of fate
from time without beginning has been this,
“That the former is a courtesan of the market-place, and
the latter a chaste and curtained dame.”

And at that time he left the world, and it is certain that, preserving his faith intact, he retired to the garden of Riẓwān.⁴¹ The venerable age of the holy Shaikh extended to more than eighty years, and even at that great age he begat children, and ^24. his departure from this abode of decay took place in the year H. 979 (A.D. 1571-72).

Kākōrī^41b is a pargana town in the Sarkār of Lakhnau. The Shaikh was the most learned of the learned men of his time, abstemious and well versed in the holy law, while in devout piety even the greatest of the Imāms^41c (Abū Ḥanīfah) was his inferior. For many years he was engaged in teaching and in instructing the people. He had committed the whole of the glorious word (of God) to memory, according to each of the seven methods of reading it. He used also to give instruction in Shāṭibī.^41d He reckoned his spiritual succession from Mīr Sayyid Ibrāhīm of Irīj,^41e (may God sanctify his soul!) who was himself the most learned of the learned men of his time. The Shaikh would never mention the Ṣūfī mysteries in a public assembly, but only in private, to those who had been initiated in their secrets and one of his sayings was “If the mystical profession of the Unity of God⁴² be made in public it turns again solely to him who uttered it, or to the learned men (present).”

He would not listen to singing, and outwardly reprobated it. He left numerous children who attained perfection, all of whom were adorned with the embellishment of rectitude, piety, wisdom, knowledge, and excellence.

The compiler of these historical selections was honoured, in company with the late Muḥammad Ḥusain Khān,^42a by being permitted to pay his respects to the Shaikh in Lakhnau. It was the blessed month of Ramaẓān, and a certain one brought to the Shaikh a work on logic, asking him to set him a task in that book. The Shaikh said “You should read some book on divinity.”

The Shaikh's death occurred in the year H. 981 (A.D. 1573-4).

He also was one of the more esteemed among holy men. His line of spiritual descent came through his own revered father, Shaikh Muḥammad (may God render his soul fragrant). Shaikh Muḥammad wrote a commentary in Persian on Shāṭibī,^42b which covered nearly seventy quires of paper. His true successor, ^25. Shaikh Sa'dī, was subject to fits of overpowering religious ecstasy, and was pure both in body and soul. He was ever cheerful and light of heart, and lived happy and free from care. To one of his friends he wrote in a letter, when saying farewell to him:—

“Thy Sa'dī's eyes and heart are with thee on thy way,
“So deem not that thou goest alone, they bide with thee
alway.”
His death occurred in the year H. 1002 (A.D. 1593-4).

He was one of the successors of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ,^43a and was a master of the art of exorcism. He had a great reputation for asceticism, holy poverty, and resignation, and was generous and open-handed. He came to Lakhnau, where very many were honoured by converse with him, and received from him permission to give instruction in religious matters. There he died.

In his youth he served in the army, in the reign of Sulṭān Ibrāhīm Lodī,^43c but^43d when the Emperor Bābar conquered India he gave up that profession for a life of holy poverty, sacrificing all his ambition thereto.^43e He became a disciple of Shaikh Buhlūl, devoting himself to the service of God and to asceticism. From his spiritual instructor he learnt the proper use of some of the names of God in exorcism, and lived the life of a recluse in a garden, most of the trees of which had been planted by himself, shutting in his own face the door of entry into and exit from the houses of other men. They used to say that for more than thirty years his food had been nothing but milk alone, and that he never used pulse or any sort of food other than (milk). One day when Muḥammad Ḥusain Khān, accompanied by me, went to visit him, a cat came up to the Shaikh mewing piteously. The Shaikh said “This cat has cause of complaint, for you have wasted both her time and the time of the master of the house, ^26. causing it to be passed in frivolity, and distracting my heart.”

Nārnol^44a is one of the famous cities of India. Although the Shaikh was the disciple of Shaikh Khānūn of the Cishtī^44b order, who was settled in the fort of Gwāliyār, he always declared that he acquired most of his excellence, and education, as well as the spiritual succession, from his own elder brother, Shaikh Isma‘īl by name. He was a Ṣūfī who had attained the first stage of recognition of God,^44c had overcome his desires, and had acquired complete hope in God's mercy. He was thoroughly acquainted with the (spiritual) condition of those who had retired from the world and had chosen the religious life, and possessed great influence over them. I have heard that he used to order the darvīshes of his hospice, during eclipses of the moon, to take oil of the Celastrus,^44d (a medicine well-known in India, on which treatises, describing its virtues, have been written, and of the properties of which the author has had some small experience), and that under its influence the truth about the next world^44e was revealed to them, and that he used to recount to them^44f other wonderful matters—but God knows the truth.

He remained seated on the throne of religious guidance for nearly forty years, and from early youth to the end of his life there were very few years in which he did⁴⁵ not make a pilgrimage on foot, inflamed with strong desire and fervour, losing no time on the way, to the shrine of that holy pole-star of the world, Khāja Quṭbu-'d-dīn Bakhtyār of Ūsh,^45a (may God sanctify his tomb!). Towards the end of his life, owing to old age, and other things which hindered him (from performing this pilgrimage), he used to celebrate the festival^45b of the sainted Khāja in Nārnōl. In abandoning all outward show he followed the footsteps of his spiritual guide, and in his freedom from ceremoniousness and formality he regarded rich and poor alike, observing the same impartiality also in admitting disciples. I saw him when he was surrounded by a crowd, and so did not attain to the honour of ^27. conversing with him. His death took place in the year H. 997, (A.D. 1588-9,) and the words “Alas for Niẓām”^45c were found to give the date.

He was profoundly learned and in early life spent many years in teaching and giving instruction. He was a disciple of Shaikh Ṣafī, the spiritual successor of Shaikh Sa‘īd, and held from him a diploma, authorizing him to give religious instruction. In early life he employed^45e himself to such an extent in the acquisition of exoteric knowledge that there are now living many wise men, masters of perfection, who owe their wisdom to his teaching.⁴⁶ Latterly he devoted^46a himself wholly to the Ṣūfī-istic rule, founding an order of devotees, vowed to personal poverty, whose rule was resignation to God, retirement from the world, and the giving of alms. A keen appreciation of the ecstatic songs and dances (of darvīshes) and an overpowering religious ecstacy were comprised in his daily system of religious exercises,^46b and were never omitted. He restrained his steps from wandering to the doors of men, especially of worldly men, and those of position and rank, and on these grounds he never accepted an invitation to a feast. All his offspring and followers secured the good fortune of the assistance of the example of his practice in enduring poverty and want. One of them was his true successor^46c Shaikh Abū-'l-Fatḥ, who succeeded to his prayer-mat, and is one of the most pre-eminent^46d among the learned men of this time. In his rules of conduct, both outward and inward, he follows, wholly and completely, his venerable father, and he is the author of many standard works on most branches of knowledge. Never did a beggar go away disappointed from the Shaikh.

One day Muḥammad Ḥusain Khān asked the Shaikh, “What sort of a man was Sālār Mas‘ūd,^46e whom the common people of India worship?” The Shaikh replied, “He was an Afghān who met his death by martyrdom.”⁴⁷

Towards the end of his life, in accordance with an Imperial summons, he came to Fatḥpūr and there saw the Khalīfa^47a (vice- ^28. gerent) of the age. When the Emperor heard that the Shaikh, when the messenger conveyed the summons to him, set out from his hospice on foot, without allowing anything to detain him, travelling thus until his servants sent his baggage and travelling litter after him, he was much pleased. When he asked the Shaikh a question the Shaikh would make a sign to signify that he was hard of hearing, and the Emperor would give him a piece of gold. He also ordered that a subsistence allowance^47b should be assigned to the Shaikh, and then immediately gave him permission to depart.

The Shaikh's death occurred in the year H. 993 (A.D. 1585). May the mercy of God be upon him!

Chatī^47c is the chief town of a pargana in the District of Lāhōr. The Shaikh's noble ancestors came first from the land of the ‘Arabs^47d to Sītpūr,^47e which is in the Multān country, and the holy Shaikh was himself born in that place. His noble father proceeded ^47f from this world to eternity before his birth, and his mother died^47g very shortly after it, and he, left alone, as an incomparable pearl,⁴⁸ was brought up under the guardianship of his elder brother, Miyān Raḥmatu-'llāh. When they set him tasks in the reading of the Qurā'n, tears would sometimes flow over the surface of his blessed cheeks, and he would say, “Trouble me not in respect of this matter, but leave me unto God the Most High.” From this time they knew that he had no need of any acquired learning.

Couplet.

“What need had he of instruction in polite learning,
“Who was himself from the first well learned therein?”

They say that one of the two princes of both worlds, either Imām Ḥasan or Imām Ḥusain,^48a (may God be gratified with them!), it cannot be decided which, taught the holy Shaikh in ^29. a dream some verses from the first chapter of the Qur'ān, and sometimes when he went, to refresh his heart, to watch the play of children,^48b he would dejectedly and perplexedly watch them from afar, and would say, “I see their faces scratched, their bodies^48c covered with blood, and their skin torn off, and some of them appear to me as though they had lost their heads.”^48d

When, after many temporal vicissitudes and various hardships, he came to the pargana town of Satgarah,^48e and from there to Lāhōr, he commenced to study under Maulānā Isma‘īl of Uch,^48f who had received instruction from his highness the lord Maulavī ‘Ārif-i-Jāmī, (may God sanctify his tomb!), and in early youth he read the commentary of Iṣfahānī⁴⁹ with such critical acumen,^49a that the best students from among the natives of the country, who were reading that book in class with him, stood^49b astonished at the perspicuous quickness of his apprehension and the clearness of his intellect, and his tutor said, “Friends, just as we, in our time, used to rejoice and contend for superiority in the sight of our respected master, so too will this lad, before long, attain to such a degree of respect that the people will^49c look towards him with blessing and benediction, and from his noble and profitable words will gain advantage and excellence.”^49d At last he became a living witness (of the truth of) and (one might say) the source of (the saying), “Blessed is he who hath seen me or hath seen one who hath seen me.”^49e

“My love, though he went not to school, nor wrote a line,
“By means of one glance instructed a hundred teachers in
(difficult) problems.”^49f

And, having attained the position of a most learned sage he was rejoiced with the good news of the sacred text, “O David, verily have we made thee a vicegerent.”^49g And at the very time when he was employed in the exercise of harsh and severe austerities, having conceived, by means of the attractions of God,—“which are equal to the acts of both men and jinn,”—a ^30. strong craving after God, his spiritual holiness Ghauṯu-'ṯ-Ṯaqalain (may God be pleased with him!) evinced, in all circumstances, great interest in his progress, and became his helper, assister, and guardian, keeping his regard always fixed upon him, openly listening to and returning favourable answers to his petitions, until he perforce drew him, after the manner of beloved ones who are attracted, and attracted ones who are beloved,⁵⁰ to the court of saintship, Divine guidance, and perfection, to the closet of propinquity (to God), to the chamber of the grandeur of God, and to the resting-place of the Holiness of the Lord of Majesty. When under the influence of this strong craving after God he used to wander bare-headed and bare-foot in the desert about Dībālpūr,^50a the dwelling-place of beasts of prey, wild animals, and birds, in a spot now known as Shīrgaṛh:—

Hemistich.

“We are lovers wandering in the plains of Damascus.”^50b

And sometimes when he went to circumambulate^50c the blessed shrine of that holy Saint, obeyed of all the world, Ganj-i-Shakar,^50d (may God sanctify his tomb!) he would there receive signs, and experience happy visions, and engage in conversation and intercourse (with the saint's spirit), a detailed account of which is beyond the limits of this hastily compiled history. They are recounted in detail in the book (known as) Naghmāt-i-Dā'ūdī,^50e which was written by that cream of saints and fruit of the pure at heart, Shaikh Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī, the son of Shaikh Rahmatu-'llāh, already mentioned, the date of whose most fortunate birth may be deduced from the words “the beggar of Shaikh Dā'ūd,”⁵¹ or from the words “Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī, the worshipper of the true (God),”^51a and who is now the successor of Shaikh Mīyān Dā'ūd, (may God sanctify his soul!). When he had spent a period of twenty years, or thereabouts, in ecstatic longing after God and wandering over plains and deserts, he was inspired to revert to a regular mode of life^51b and to the religious instruction of the people, but since he had had no outward religious instructor and guide he hesitated to undertake the charge, until he was initiated and appointed by his spiritual holiness Ghauṯ-i-A‘ẓam^51c for the following duty, namely, to assist, for the sake of preserving the spiritual succession, the reverend Shaikh Ḥāmid-i-Qādirī ^31. (may God sanctify his tomb!) who was the son of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir the second, and the father of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir, ^51d who at the time of writing is occupying his venerable father's place in Ucch, by drawing him (more closely) to God. And the late saint, (may God have mercy upon him!) since he had already many times asked for assistance from this disciple, who was after his own heart, and turned to him in every important business, and had asked^51e that a fātiḥah^51f might be offered up on his (the late saint's) behalf, delayed to draw up his blessed tree of spiritual succession and to issue a permit for perfecting of disciples until he himself went one day to the town of Satkara,⁵² where the saint (may God have mercy upon him!) had many times previously lodged, on which occasion, when under the influence of his ecstatic longing after God, he said, “Here is Shaikh Ghauṯ-i-A‘ẓam (may God be pleased with him!) who has come and signifies that he entrusts to me his prayer-carpet, staff, tree of spiritual succession, horse, covered litter, and all the appurtenances of Shaikh-dom and spiritual leadership.” When the saint (may God^52a sanctify his tomb!) was informed from on high of that occurrence, and when his knowledge of it was afterwards completely confirmed, he entrusted the divine charge committed to him to him whom his soul desired, but who appeared as though he were the seeker (not the sought after), returning from his soaring flight (of ecstasy) to ordinary intercourse (with his fellow creatures), and spread the mat of sojourning in the newly-built town of Shīrgaṛh, near to Chatī,^52b and half-way between Multān and Pattan, started a new order, the Qādirīyyah,^52c which is midway between the two exalted orders, Sahrawardiyyah and Cishtiyyah,^52d (blessings on them, all three, from God!) and in the Divine power and by means of close connection with the true God, he so carried forward^52e the work that the sound issuing therefrom will not die away^52f until the sounding of the last trump.

When Mullā ‘Abdu-'llāh of Sulṭānpūr, who was known as Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk, girded his loins to strenuous efforts in uprooting the men of God,⁵³ becoming the means of the death of several of them, he sent an imperial order in the name of Salīm^53a Shāh Sūr, the Afghān, from Gwāliyār, summoning the holy Miyāṅ among others, in obedience to which ^32. order the Miyāṅ set out in haste with one or two attendants, and, meeting Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk, outside Gwāliyār, with marks of the greatest^53b respect,^53c alighted in a spot where he sat down with him, and where a beneficial conversation took place. The pernicious mischief-makers, as soon as they witnessed this conversation, fled away to every corner, so that they could not be discovered even by search being made. Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk said, “Their report is not on this ground (alone) falsified.”^53d After much talk and conversation the Shaikh asked “What was the real motive for summoning us religious mendicants?” Makh-dūmu-'l-Mulk replied, “I heard that your disciples, when performing the religious exercise of ẕikr, said ‘O Dā'ūd, O Dā'ūd!’” The Shaikh replied “There has probably been some mistake in hearing, owing to a similarity of sounds, or else my followers must have said ‘O Wadūd, O Wadūd!’”^53e In connection with this matter the Shaikh remained for a whole day, or a whole night,^53f

bestowing on him sublime exhortations and advice, and imparting to him precious knowledge and facts relating to God.⁵⁴ Makh-dūmu-'l-Mulk was much affected and dismissed the Shaikh from that place with honour.

On one occasion the austerity and piety of Miyāṅ Ḥisāmu-'d-dīn of Ṭalamba,^54a may God have mercy upon him! (some of whose glorious attributes are mentioned in the Najātu-'r-Rashīd) happened to be the subject of conversation in the noble assembly of the Shaikh, and he said “Ah, what a pity was it that the Miyāṅ failed in personal desire of and love for God, and was the slave of mere morality:—

Hemistich.

“Thou hast kept one thing, and (many) things are lost to thee.”
“Beware, at the last,^54b from whom thou remainest apart.”^54c

The liberality and charity of the Shaikh's disposition were such ^33. that on certain fixed occasions,^54d either once or twice in the year, he scattered abroad in promiscuous charity^54e all the money and goods that he had received gratuitously, and he and his chaste wife kept nothing in the cell that was their dwelling but an earthen pot and a piece of old matting, and when he saw that his treasure-chest was full he would again in the same manner disburse its contents in promiscuous charity,^54f and notwithstanding this (profusion), on the birth-day and feast-day of the holy Ghauṯ-i-A‘ẓam (may God be pleased with him!) all the needs^54g of the pilgrims, whether of high or low degree, who, to the number of nearly a hundred thousand souls, more or less, were gathered together, were met by disbursements from the alms-chest of his hospice, and that profusion, praise be to God, is still continued, nay rather, is increased many fold. Some of the auspicious utterances of his inspired tongue, the interpreter of divine truths, are as follows:—⁵⁵

“In the name of God, the Director and Guide in the darkness of occans and deserts.” I have many times seen and experienced the efficiency of this holy saying in positions of fear^55a and danger. Another is:—

“Praised be He in respect of Whose Essence our thoughts are
bewildered,
“Praised be He in respect of the understanding of Whom our
understanding soars.”^55b

And there are many other examples of such prayers, praises ẕikrs and choice phrases, and the signet-ring posy of that holy man, composed by himself, was as follows:—

“Dā'ūd has been effaced in name and trace
“For poverty effaces all traces.”

When I, the author of these pages, in the time of Bairām Khān, (that best of times, when India was as a bride,)^55c was a student in Āgra, I heard from certain darvīshes great reports of the Shaikh's noble and majestic attributes, and from that time forward I sowed ^34. the seed of attachment to and trust in him in the ground of preparation (for meeting him) and was in secret a slave to this desire (of meeting him).

And at that very time I repeatedly made attempts to go and pay my respects to that holy man, clothing myself in the pilgrim's garment meet for the circumambulation of that threshold around which the angels do go, and set out⁵⁶ for Shīrgaṛh (with this object). But sometimes my father, who has now obtained pardon and forgiveness of his sins, withstood me and turned me back in the way, and sometimes I was let by other hindrances, which were the means of disappointing me of the fruition of that good fortune. A period of twelve years passed over me, thus expectant, before one of the servants of that court, Shaikh Kālū by name, a solitary traveller, who had himself^56a formerly been the means of my secret knowledge of the Shaikh, like the humā, from hidden regions cast his shadow on Badāon and its environs, and said to me, “Is it not a pity that the holy Miyāṅ (Shaikh Dā'ūd) should be in the land of the living and that you should (be content to) rest with hope unfulfilled and should not even once see him?” This soul-subduer kindled a fire in my perplexed soul, and the Most High God provided the means (of the fulfilment of my desire), for Muḥam-mad Ḥusain Khān, in whose^56b personal service I was, went in pursuit of Ibrāhīm Ḥusain Mīrzā from Kānt u Gūla^56c towards the Panjāb, and the means of attaining that happiness were thus prepared ^56d for me, so that, as has been already mentioned,^56e I went to Shīrgaṛh from Lāhōr, and saw with my own eyes a portion of the (spiritual) beauty of the holy man—and what possessor of beauty can be compared to him? As he smiled and spoke light sparkled from his teeth,^56f a light which illuminated the dark abode of the heart, and from which the secret of the Countenance of God was manifested. In short for the space of three or four days I acquired some advantage from this transitory life.

Few days passed on which Hindus, to the number of fifty or a hundred, more or less (on each day), did not come with their families and kindred to pay their respects to that holy man, receiving the high honour of conversion to Islām, and obtaining ^35. instruction in the faith.⁵⁷ I found the gates and walls and trees and dwellings of that delectable town filled with the sound of the telling of rosaries and the reciting of God's praises, and the Shaikh bestowed on me his auspicious cap, saying,^57a “Be^57b thou my deputy to thine own people, for (thus to appoint a deputy) is my wont,” and he sent a kerchief and a veil from his chaste wife^57c to my wives^57d and children, and when I made a representation to him, saying, “If you bestow on me the gift of a shirt, it will be light upon light.” After some reflection he said “That also will arrive in due time.” Having disclosed to him some of the secrets of my heart and my designs and intentions, I endeavoured to obtain leave to depart. At this point^57e that holy man left his masjid in his closed travelling litter, owing to his great weakness, and set out for my first halting-place. I, taking the pole of the litter on my shoulder, walked for some paces with it. While I was thus employed a powerful fit of weeping overcame me, and the Shaikh, stopping the litter, said, “Put me down.” He alighted, and sat down, and spoke so much of the knowledge and love of God, the Most High, that my agitation re-doubled. One day, at the time of leave-taking, I represented, through Mīyāṅ ‘Abdu-'l-Wahhāb, one of the Shaikh's sincere companions, (to whom is applicable the text), “Blessedness awaiteth them and a goodly home,”⁵⁸ that a report was current among the holy men of Hindustān that the time for the rising of a religious leader was at hand, that most of that body, (i.e., the holy men,) concurred in fixing on one of the Sayyids of that country, whose ancestors had formerly been seated on the throne of empire in Dihlī and Badāon for some time,^58a that they were engaged in making preparations for a holy war and in collecting, arms,^58b that they professed to have received directions^58c from the holy Ghauṯ-i-A‘ẓam ^58d (may God be pleased with him!) to engage in this affair, and that they had implicated with themselves some of the Amīrs on the frontier, and that some of them professed to have received supernatural encouragement during their assemblies and when they were in difficulties, and purposed to bring the object of their desire to an issue. The Shaikh asked me, “What ^36. is that Sayyid's mode of life, and condition?” I said “He is a man who lives a retired life, in holy poverty,^58e conformably to the sacred law, a recluse and an ascetic who has resigned himself to God, passing most of his days among the tombs (of holy men) and his nights in his cell in worship and submission to God, but he is a man of good family,⁵⁹ unrivalled and incomparable in his knowledge of the military art, of excellent moral character and following a most worthy mode of life.” The Shaikh said “The members of that body (i.e., the holy men), are no true darvīshes, in that they so traduce the holy Ghauṯ,^59a and do him violence now that he can no longer help himself,^59b and those spiritual encouragements and signs are all part of the delusions of Satan, for how could the holy Ghauṯ (may God be pleased with him!) countenance such matters as this, he whose rule it always was that the people should expel the love of the world from their hearts, and, in all candour and sincerity, should set their faces towards the love of God, the Most High, abandoning vain desires and lusts, and not that one should turn aside from the path of worship, asceticism and holy endeavour to fall again into the net of the world, which is the enemy of God? Say to that Sayyid from me, “May God the Most High vouchsafe to you grace to stand fast in the path which you hold. If the least suspicion of any desire for evanescent delights remains (in your heart), it behoves you to strive to overcome it, and not to be beguiled by the impostures and misrepresentations of a bewildered band of know-nothings,^59c thereby straying from the path. Though the lover of the world should attain to kingship,—the supreme object of worldly men, and the seeker after the (sensual) joys of paradise^59d should reach the rewards bestowed by the Everlasting God, that is, the maidens and mansions^59e of the next world, and the lover of God⁶⁰ should die of grief from the utter hopelessness of attaining his object, yet is the disappointment of this last a thousand-fold^60a better and more happy than the fruition and ^37. attainment of desire experienced by the former two classes of poor-spirited men.” And the Shaikh, speaking on this subject, scattered amongst us so many jewels of profitable advice that pearl-like tears began to fall from the eyes of those that heard him, upon the skirts of their robes, and, that (worldly) object being forgotten, we were thrown into quite a different frame of mind, one above description, and^60b in that state of burning anguish I bade the Shaikh adieu, uttering cries of grief.

“My heart, in the hope that one cry might perchance reach
thee,
“Has uttered in this mountain lamentations such as were
never uttered by Farhād.”

And since the roads between Lāhōr and Shīrgaṛh were, in consequence of the rebellion^60c of the Ulugh Baigī Mīrzās,^60d closed, both at the time of my going to Shīrgaṛh and at the time of my return, and as I was alone, the Shaikh gave me an attendant as a guide, who was to take me to Shaikh Abū Isḥāq-i-Mihrang in Lāhōr,^60e one of the most noted of the holy man's deputies, in order that he might arrange to send me with a caravan to the army of Ḥusain Khān, which had come to Lāhōr from Ṭalamba, and was to proceed thence to Kānt-u-Gūla. “When I reached Lāhōr I set out for Hindustān with Ḥusain Khān's men.” I was sitting one day at our halting-place at Sahāranpūr⁶¹ in a garden, consumed with grief at my separation from that holy man, when a traveller brought to me a Qādirī^61a shirt, which he had in his hand, saying, “Take this, which I received from the hand of a venerable saint, and give me something to help me on my way.”^61b When I questioned him as to the truth of the matter he said, “When Mīrzā Ibrāhīm Ḥusain met with that mischance^61c I, with a party of his troops, overwhelmed with misfortune and a prey to plunderers, arrived stripped and naked at Shīrgaṛh, where we attached ourselves to the holy saint, our helper, and he gave something to each of us. When my turn came round he took this ^38. shirt off his blessed body, and bestowed it upon me. I, thinking that it would be irreverent to wear it, deposited it in safe custody, with a view to taking it away to some place as a rare gift; and now I leave it with you.” I received from him that mysteriously conveyed gift, that treasure wafted to me by the wind, as though it had been a blessing and benediction.

Verses.

The perfume of thy shirt has reached me,
My soul was ravished by that sweet odour.
I had offered a fātiḥah^61d for union with thee,
Praise be to God that my fātiḥah was accepted.

And, remembering the word that he had spoken, I regarded this occurrence as a miracle,^61e and I now preserve that Joseph's coat^61f as I preserve my life—and praise be to God for all this!

Verses.

And as I have been the companion of desire for his excellency
From the cradle, I hope that (that desire) will continue to
the grave.

Verses.

Desire for thee within my mind, and love for thee within my
heart,
Did enter me with mother's milk, and with my life will leave
me.

The following is a brief account of that holy man. He was the cynosure⁶² of his time, an inspired prophet, and a worker of wonders and manifest miracles, giving clear proofs of his sanctity.^62a He had undergone severe discipline^62b and in holy endeavour had striven much. In early life^62c he acquired exoteric knowledge and had also been engaged in teaching. He had resigned himself to God and lived an eremite, going never to the houses of worldly men but once, when in obedience to the (royal) command he went from Shīrgaṛh to Gwāliyār to see Salīm Shāh,^62d and although the Khalīfah of the age,^62e when he was proceeding to Patan sent Shahbāz Khān^62f to summon the Shaikh to bestow on him the honour of a visit, the Shaikh made his excuses, saying, ^39. “My secret prayers are sufficient.” He avoided to the utmost of his power the companionship of the lords of the earth, investing himself with the cloak of “Poverty is my glory.”⁶³ He was constant in almsgiving, and in pointing out to searchers after truth the path of holiness, and whosoever was so aided by fortune as to be led to the Shaikh received great profit from the precious utterances of that blessing of the age and cynosure^63a of the world. In the year H. 982 (A.D. 1574-5) his tent was pitched under the curtain of the Majesty of God the Most High, and in the Court of union with Him, may His glory be exalted! The words “Ah, Shaikh Dā'ūd the Saint!”^63b were found to give the date (of his death). May God bestow upon him His boundless mercy, and raise us with him in that hour when all shall be gathered together.^63c

He was a traveller in the path (of righteousness) and was mysteriously attracted (by the love of God), but notwithstanding this he neglected not one jot of the observances of the pure Law.^63f Many miracles are related as having been performed by him. He lived and received disciples without pomp or ceremony. When I after waiting upon the holy Miyāṅ Shaikh Dā'ūd⁶⁴ (may his honoured tomb be sanctified!) was returning from the Panjāb and travelled to Badāon by way of Amroha, I paid my respects to the Sayyid already mentioned.^64a He read a verse from the glorious word (of God), and delivered an address, not on any fixed theme,^64b but now and again he would turn to me and make some remarks on the excellence of the reward and recompense^64c reserved for the long-suffering, and he quoted the blessed text “But good works, which are lasting…”^64d and so on to the end of the verse. And it afterwards^64e became manifest that this was an indication of the occurrence of a calamity which happened to me. The facts were briefly thus: I had a daughter, whom I dearly loved, and while I was on this journey⁶⁵ she passed away in Badāon from this deceitful world. Probably those consoling subjects were (mentioned) for the comfort of my ^40. heart—but God knows all!

The Shaikh's death occurred in the year H. 987 (A.D. 1579).

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.

He was a descendant in the fourth generation of the holy Khāja Aḥrār^150b (may God sanctify his soul!). He was well acquainted with the seven styles of penmanship, and was a professor of that art. He had great practice and wonderful skill in medicine and therapeutics. His excellent qualities and disposition were an inheritance which he had received from his forbears, and although he was little given to discourse he exercised hospitality, and whatever he received from his jāgīr was ¹⁰⁰ spent in furnishing the table of friendship. He was the benefactor both of high and low. When the new heresy was introduced and the influence of the vilest of men waxed great he withdrew from this society and obtained leave to perform the pilgrimage to the Ḥijāz. He was made “leader of the pilgrimage” and was sent on his way to the holy places with ample store for the journey. When he had attained the felicity of completing the pilgrimage he returned, and passed his precious time in Āgra, in devotion and the service of the Most High God, which alone is the object for which man was created, until the importunate messenger of doom seized the garment of his holy life, and invited him to the abode of nearness to God and the threshold of His greatness, so that having obtained his release from this abode of distraction and darkness he entered into close fellowship with the faithful, the martyrs, and the pious.

Couplet.

They call to thee from the highest heaven,
I know not what more thou hast to do with this world
of snares.

He was one of the spiritual successors of the lord Shaikh Ḥusain of Kh'ārazm (may God sanctify his soul!). Religious ecstasy, overpowering him, used to reduce him to a state like inebriety. Daily, after early morning prayers, the Miṣbāḥ, written by Shaikh Rashīd (may God sanctify his soul!), used to be read in his venerable assembly, after the rule of the Kibrawī order, and he would then fall into a religious ecstasy, and in like manuer he was assiduous in reading the Maṯnavī of the Maulavī-yi-Ma‘navī .¹⁵¹ His feet were firm in the path of the most pure law, and his speech sprang ever from spiritual knowledge, and affected the hearts of his hearers. If at times one would praise him he would say, “It is yourself that you are regarding.”

He stayed some time in Badāon for the purpose of seeing some ¹⁰¹ Turks who had attached themselves to him as their spiritual leader, and made that place resplendent with the light of his presence, and the bounty of his blessed companionship reached the inhabitants of that district. Returning thence he came to Āgra, and thence hastened to the court of the great God.

He is one of the descendants of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir the second, of Ucch, who was entitled his holiness Ghauṯ-i-Rabbānī (may God be graciously pleased with them!). Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir and his younger brother, Shaikh Ilāh Bakhsh, were both educated in piety, devotion, and temperance, and were distinguished for their mental perfections. They lived for some time in Fatḥpūr, and the emperor, at the time when religious controversy waxed warm, extended his patronage to Shaikh Ilāh Bakhsh, and appointed him to Gujarāt with the title of Ṣadr, and sent him to Shāhbāz Khān.¹⁵² This was, in fact, banishment. The Shaikh, however, rendered good service to the state, and constantly^152a sent express messengers with representations containing full news^152b of the rebels, and other matters, so that a commission was issued, granting him the rank of commander of three hundred. But just then the messenger of death delivered in his ear the joyful message, “Return thou to thy Lord,” and he responded cheerfully to the messenger of God. His elder brother, Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Qādir, was then banished to the glorious city of Makkah, and at the time when the Khānkhānān, son of Bairām Khān,^152c and Mīrzā Niẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad had the control of affairs in Gujarāt, he went thither, and having obtained from them provisions for his journey and attached himself to a company of pilgrims he obtained the glory of performing the pilgrimage of the Ḥajj. Thence he returned to his own native place, Lāhōr, where he now lives,¹⁵³ engaged in the service of God and in devotion, and remaining steadfast in the same.

He is the nephew, the son-in-law and the spiritual successor of his holiness the true spiritual guide, the abode of saintship, him who is seated in the chair of unity, lord of the sword of might and the troop of power of the Eternal One, the manifestation of the perfections of Muḥammad, Miyāṅ Shaikh Dā'ūd^153a (may God sanctify his soul!). He is, in the swift pursuit of righteousness, the phœnix of the age, a pattern in all states and assemblies of holy poverty and self-effacement. If mention be made of those favoured by God it is his name which is most appropriately mentioned, and if the talk be of those who excel their fellows it is his name which is first spoken. He is a man of lofty soul who has completely effaced himself in the love which he bears to his spiritual guide, a man of noble mind who knows no other occupation than the adoration of his saintly preceptor. He has himself written verses to that purport:—

Couplets.

“I am ever inebriated with the cup of love;
What should I know of ‘this’ and ‘that’—
I who worship Dā'ūd?”

“How can this frozen heart be warmed by the speech
of all?
Nay, it requires the breath of Dā'ūd, which can soften
even iron.”

“I sit on the throne of poverty, now that I have attained
my desire,
I reign like Sulaimān, for I am heart and soul the
slave of Dā'ūd.”

Quatrain.

“Lord, grant to me one glance of the eye which I
desire,¹⁵⁴
Grant to me freedom alike from being and non-exis-
tence,
And although I be not worthy of this high fortune,
¹⁰³ Grant to me one atom of the love of Shaikh Dā'ūd.”^154a

One of his sayings is this:—“Oh, Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī, be the slave of the Lord, the Most High, and be not the slave of money and jewels!” It is said that in the year of his auspicious birth he was taken to his holiness, the universally respected^154b Miyān Shaikh Dā'ūd (may God sanctify his tomb!) and that his worthy father asked the Miyān to give a name to his auspicious offspring. His holiness the Miyān said, “Let his name be Shāh^154c Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī.” As this name was very uncommon in India the bestowal of it has been regarded as a prophecy of the return of the Mughuls,^154d and of the appearance of the army of the emperor Humāyūn (may his grave be fragrant!) and a year had not passed when that emperor, who has now obtained forgiveness of his sins, returned to India, and (the spiritual influence of) Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī placed him who had thus conformed to that influence in possession of the country of the Panjab. The words “Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī, the Worshipper of God” were found to give the date of his birth. The few flowing verses quoted below, which are to be interpreted mystically and not literally, are some of the products of his bright genius.

A fragment.

Ghurbatī¹⁵⁵ speaks in his religious ecstasy,
An ecstasy which is indeed altercation without speech.
It were impossible to describe the condition of his love,
Yet to refrain from doing so is another impossibility.

Ghurbatī! Make thy life a sacrifice to Him,
For the felicity of union with Him is not bes-
towed as a worthless gift.

Keep the mention of love in thine heart, and open not
thy lips.
Keep the mouth of this flask well closed, lest (cold)
air should enter it.

Ghurbatī! Raise the cry of ‘I am God!’^155a and fear ¹⁰⁴
not the stake,
For rope and stake are the means of ascent in this path.

That which we have seen and known of that Soul of
Souls
(We learnt) not to repeat, but to see and to know.

The following copy of a letter is one of his wonderful epistles which he sent to me in Lāhor:—

Verses.

I increased my desire and my heart is in grief,
And within my bowels a fire is kindled.
When will the absent return from their long journey?^155b
* * * *

“My dear one,—At this time of dejection in my separation from every friend and stranger I had come to regard the news even of those who¹⁵⁶ asked after the well-being of all as a letter-carrier and messenger, and used to hope for greetings and a message, when suddenly your affectionate letter took the place of a prescription for the restoration to health of those cast down with melancholy at separation from their friends, and redoubled my desire to see you, and my affection. Now the verses of that holy man of the Qādirī order, the seething of whose waves of eloquence astonishes and bewilders the soul, expel the anguish of my heart, and I beg that you will excuse me (for quoting them):—

Ho, ye (who hearken)! I wonder at all men.
And in my drunkenness I see neither that which is
before me nor that which is behind.
And there is nothing, I swear by God, in my bowels but
desire for you,
My heart seeth you, as though I saw from your
eyes.
From my grave whisper in the ears of my absent friends
That they are the objects of my regard both in life and
death.
When Munkir and Nakīr shall come to me
¹⁰⁵ I shall answer to Nakīr at the time of his coming,
and to Munkir.
And will say ‘Question not me, but another’ concern-
ing them, for I am verily their friend,
And the bond of my love for them has suffered no
change.
We all convey salutations to all of you.
Written by the humble Abū-'l-Ma‘ālī.”

And in another letter he wrote the following couplet:—

“As for that dear one who nightly moveth near me,
Blest will be the day when he appears clearly before
me.”

“Salutations blended with the desire of seeing you and flaunted like the banners of the Dā'ūdiyyah branch of the Qādiriyyah order are sent to you. Know that your friend has important business with Maulānā ‘Abdu-'l-Ghafūr and Shaikh ‘Umar, which can be settled by a moment's attention from you. If you can spare any of your precious time to bring it about it will, in truth, be most fruitful in benefits. My blessing.”

Tala is a famous quarter of Lāhōr. The Maulānā is a relative of Ḥājī Mahdī, who was one of the most famous Shaikhs. He is now one of the most learned men of the time, and has been appointed as a teacher at Lāhōr. He is a pupil of Mullā Isma‘īl of Ucch, and has also received instruction from other teachers. He is a most expert lapidary, possesses great acumen, and has much store of learning in all branches of knowledge, both those which call for the exercise of the reasoning faculty and those which depend on the memory. They say that he has been engaged in teaching since he was eight years old. He has a good delivery and speaks unambiguously so that he is able readily to convey to the understanding of his pupils the sense of arguments on knotty points of speculative and traditional science. He is kind-hearted, pious and religious, and has the Qur'ān by heart. He is endowed with noble qualities. The correction and arrangement of the Quranic exegesis¹⁵⁷ of Shaikh Faiẓī is principally his work. His age is between fifty and sixty.

Couplet.

What of argument regarding knowledge? Though it travel as ¹⁰⁶
far as Farqad,^157a
The mention of the name of Maulānā Jamālu-'d-dīn Muḥam-
mad will accompany it.

He is a most eminent and distinguished sage, and well known for the vigour of his understanding and his natural acumen. His belief in the Shaikhs is unshaken, and the firmness of his confidence in these men is wonderful. Most of his precious time is expended in perusing the works of this class of men, and he employs his life in the recitation of supererogatory prayers and petitions and in the perusal of the Qur'ān, and whatever comes to his board is at the disposal of the poor and needy. At the time when the controversy with the ‘Ulamā and the Shaikhs took place he was banished,¹⁵⁸ and having been appointed to be Qāẓī of Jaunpūr he was sent thither. When he joined the imperial Court at the time when it was at Ilāhābad^158a the Qāẓī-ship of Jaunpūr was bestowed on the Ottoman Qāẓī-zāda, an accomplished man of pleasant disposition and adorned with many mental perfections. Since that time Maulānā ‘Abdu-'sh-Shakūr has remained there in retirement, engaged in teaching and imparting knowledge, contenting himself with what is sufficient for subsistence, averse from covetousness, far removed from worldly perils and fears, and near to the salvation of faith.

He is the successor of his respected father. He is a young man who in childhood attained to perfection and excelled holy men. If in these latter days there be a son who is better than was his father it may be said that it is he who has attained this ¹⁰⁷ condition. He prosecuted his studies in most of those branches of knowledge which are included in the ordinary curriculum under his father, and his respected father-in-law, Miyān Sa‘du-'llāh Banī Isrā'īl, and subsequently made the society and companionship of his fellows the rule of his life, and became a courtier. May the most Holy God (be He exalted!) grant him repentance for his indulgence in opium, his pride, and his lying and boasting. At the time when, in accordance with the imperial order, he accompanied his father to the pargana of Bajwāra¹⁵⁹ and the spurs of the northern mountains, and was employed in the administration of that district, he wrote a letter to me from which the degree of perfection to which he, as a man, had attained may be inferred. That letter was as follows:—

Poetry.

I had a heart by means of which I enjoyed life, but my heart
perished from me owing to the change which it suffered.

“May the attendants of that possessor of a sublime disposition, that resort of excellence, be in good health. Oh, my lord! The concerns of my heart and soul, that is to say the only true concerns of a man, are firmly established on the threshold of sincere affection; but my earthly body (may the dust of the world be on its head!) consorts with the birds and beasts of the wilderness of superfluity,^159a nay, by God! it consorts with a multitude from the sight of which the very birds and beasts could not choose but flee. Glory be to God! I know not where I may find a remedy. My vile spirit now knows what a blessing health is. From the time when I first came to years of discretion to this day, when I have reached my fortieth year, all my endeavours have been directed towards the companionship of the most spiritually-minded men, wherein I might seek a remedy for my spiritual imperfections and the diseases of my soul, and now zeal for the Supreme and jealous God (may His majesty be exalted!) having affected me has brought on me a sore affliction, which none but He can cure. Cheerfulness,¹⁶⁰ contentment, and the quiet enjoyment of health have all been snatched from me. You, O Maulavī, will surely have experienced the magnanimous and affectionate solicitude of the Nawwāb Fayyāẓī,^160a that most learned and most wise man, unique in this age (may God enrich us from his perfection, and may He bestow on us the profitable honour of ¹⁰⁸ his discourse!), and you must have recognized it as one of the greatest of the Lord's benefits, and have returned thanks for this great gift. At the time when prayers are answered put up a petition for the needs of your slave. Salutations to you. May the attendants of the sympathetic Miyān Aḥmad, the marvel of the age, be in good health, and believe me to be desirous of reunion.”

Biyāna^160c is one of the districts in the eastern portion of India. The Shaikh from his childhood was in the service of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ,^160d and passed his time with him in fasts of forty days^160e and in exorcism, and subsequently himself continued these practices. He built a hospice in the district of Biyāna and was for many years resorted to by students and followers of the religious life. He employed himself in the instruction and spiritual guidance of such men. In knowledge of syntax he had no equal in his time. For seventy years he never broke his fast save on milk, green vegetables,¹⁶¹ and wild fruits. His liberality was profuse and open-handed. In the reign of Salīm Shāh^161a I went, in company with my maternal grandfather, to pay my respects to the Shaikh and took some lessons in the Kāfiyyah^161b from him. At last the Shaikh, withdrawing himself from all worldly concerns was overcome by stupor. He secluded himself alone in a room and would not admit even his sons to his presence, until in the year H. 989 (A.D. 1581) he departed from this world. He is buried in the hospice which he built. On the day of his death a sparrow fell down from the air on to the head of the corpse, and this was a matter of wonder to all who beheld it.

He was a native of Hindaun,^161c and had the reputation of being skilled in alchemy. It is said that the Shaikh was constantly in attendance on the emperor Humāyūn, who has obtained forgiveness of his sins, both in court and in camp, and that when the emperor arrived at Āgra after being defeated at Jausā^161d the ¹⁰⁹ Shaikh said,^161e “Something will be required for the maintenance of a fresh army,” and accordingly collected all the copper pots, dishes, and other vessels which could be found and, in the late emperor's presence, converted them into pure gold. This matter was noised abroad, but when I inquired into the truth of it from his sons, with whom I am connected by marriage, they told me that a darvīsh of great attainments¹⁶² had given their father a basket, full of the ingredients necessary for the transmutation of the baser metals, and that to whatever copper this was applied the alchemist's object was attained, but that after their father had once mixed these ingredients with the copper he had no further power of manufacturing gold, as he was unacquainted with the science of alchemy,—but God knows the truth!

I saw the Shaikh in Āgra in the days when Bairam Khān was in power in the house of Sayyid Shāh Mīr,^162a the nephew of Mīr Sayyid Rafī‘u-'d-dīn the traditionist. He was an old man of enlightened appearance and of a good disposition. He died in those days, and is buried in Hindaun.

Salīm Shāh used to call him Shāh Mubārak, and used to place his shoes before his feet. The Shaikh generally claimed to be a Sayyid, and was in great repute among the Afghāns. Thus when their power was on the wane and they were fleeing before the Mughuls some of the Afghāns seized Shaikh Islām^162c of Fatḥ-pūr suspecting him of being a wealthy man, and, having confined him in a strange manner, carried him off to the fort of Rantambhor. Shaikh Mubārak went thither from Alwar by way of Basāwar, and was the means of Shaikh Islīm's^162d liberation.

Shaikh Mubārak twice attained the honour of performing a pilgrimage to the glorious ka‘bah.

I was sixteen years of age at that time when, in company with my venerated father, I paid my respects to the Shaikh in Basā-wār, and after that, in the year H. 987 (A.D. 1579), when the ¹¹⁰ emperor was returning from his pilgrimage to Ajmīr at which the whole of the Qur'ān was read, and was journeying to Fatḥ-pūr by way of Alwar, I was again honoured by an interview with the Shaikh. He had, in truth, reached perfection and was most liberal and open-handed. It is now¹⁶³ reported that he has recently, at the age of ninety years, bidden farewell to this transitory world.

(Ladh) Sohna^163a is a pargana town of Mewāt, eighteen kurūh^163b distant from Dihlī. There is there a hot spring, rising from a mine of sulphur. The water is green in colour and smells of sulphur. Even in the winter time the water is so hot that it is impossible to bear it on the body. Bathing at that spring is a remedy for scald-head and itch. The smell and colour of the water are clear proof that it springs from sulphur. On summer nights, too, small flashes of fire may be seen on the hills surrounding the town, though nobody kindle a fire there.

The Shaikh was one of the most famous successors of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-‘Azīz of Dihlī^163c and travelled resolutely in the path of poverty. He used to give instruction in Ṣūfī-istic books, such as the Fuṣūṣ^163d and the Naqd-i-fuṣūṣ,^163e to his pupils, who were seekers after the truth. The emperor, towards the end of the Shaikh's life, placed great confidence in him and sought the help of his auspices in several important matters of state. He appointed quarters for him in the ‘ibādatkhāna close to the imperial palace and used to admit him to private interviews at night, and the inverted prayers of the recitation of which the emperor was a witness became inverted in their effects.¹⁶⁴

In the year H. 998^164a (A.D. 1590) when the Shaikh fell sick of the complaint of which he died he sent for the worthy son of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-‘Azīz Quṭb-i-‘Ālam, who was then employed in the army, from Dihlī, and, placing before him the patched robe, the staff, and the other insignia of Shaikh-dom, said to him, “These were a trust which I received from your venerable father. You are more worthy of them than I.” He then set out on his journey to the next world. The words “the truth of poverty”^164b were found to give the date of his death.

Shaikh Quṭb-i-‘Ālam, guided by God's grace, retired from the ¹¹¹ imperial service, and, obeying the call to follow in his venerable father's footsteps, guided his life thereby. He is settled in Dihlī, and is employed, by the emperor's order, in the guardianship of the footprint of his holiness the resort of apostleship^164c (the blessing and peace of God be upon him!), rendering service to all who visit it. If it please God, who is honoured, he will be endowed with the noble qualities of his honoured father.

He^164d also is one of the successors of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-‘Azīz. In asceticism^164e he has no equal in these days, and in seeking solitude, he is the “Shibli¹⁶⁵ of the age. At the beginning of his career, when he was a student in Badāon, he used to be overcome by religious ecstasy, and sometimes even in the midst of his studies on hearing the chanting of a mystical song he would remain insensible for a whole watch of the day, more or less. When his intimate friends asked him what he had seen to bring this ecstatic trance upon him he would reply, “I know nothing of it.”

In consequence of the responsibilities which he incurred by his marriage, which is^165a a pitfall for enlightened seekers after knowledge,—

Couplet.

Who are the robbers whom we encounter on our road to
God?
Those robbers are no other than women—

he came to Dihlī in search of a livelihood, and there entered the service of Tatār Khān,^165b the governor of the city, who, though clad in the habiliments of the great ones of the earth, was one of the godly. The Shaikh attached himself as a disciple to Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-‘Azīz, and under him he studied all those books which are generally current and are included in the ordinary curriculum. He then spent several years in teaching, and was then suddenly drawn mysteriously by God's grace, and, abandoning all his occupations, he joined the circle of ascetic darvīshes in the Shaikh's hospice, and employed himself in striving in the path of holiness and in self-mortification. After attaining perfection he left human habitations and took up his dwelling near ¹¹² the footprint of his holiness the resort of apostleship (may the blessing and peace of God be upon him!), in a masjid known as the masjid of Khān-i-Jahān. There he dwells in religious seclusion, and, in spite of his having a large family, he follows a religious rule, with a firm trust in God. He had not taken one step from the corner of retirement when in the year H. 1003 (A.D. 1594-95) the Khān-i-Khānān¹⁶⁶ waited upon him, and asked him for his advice. He said, “Deem the following of the holy law^166a of Muḥammad (may the blessing and peace of God be upon him!) to be of the first importance.” At the time when this hastily compiled history was written Aḥmad-i-Ṣūfiyak^166b and Ḥisā-mak ^166c of Banāras, men newly converted to Islām, who in the religious strife of these latter days are branded with the mark of eternal execration—

Maṯnawī.

Stand aloof from the Sūfīs of the city and the country,
All of them are unmanly wretches, devourers of men.
Whatever one gives to them that they devour,
Whatever lies in their power that they do.
They have no occupation but sleeping and eating,
They take no thought on the day on which they shall die—

for the purpose of averting from themselves their evil reputation and concealing their gross immorality, formed the design of dispatching a farmān summoning from Dihlī to Lāhōr Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Ghanī with one or two of his surviving children, whose names will be mentioned hereafter, for the purpose of urging him to submit to the new orders,^166d which they themselves had most readily and cheerfully accepted. The Shaikh wrote a letter to me setting forth his helplessness and asking to be excused, and accordingly, after many representations Aḥmad-i-Ṣūfiyak was appeased, and abandoned his design, and he caused a letter to be written and sent to the Shaikh excusing him from attending in obedience to the summons and asking forgiveness for what he had done. Please God, the matter will end satisfactorily.

He is very learned in the traditional sayings of the prophet. ¹¹³ Having associated much with men who are devoted to a life of poverty and self-effacement he has now, for some time past, recognized the delights of such a life, and, the grace of God helping him, has set himself to follow it for good, and has no longer any dealings with the worldly, but is busied in teaching and instructing his pupils.

He has taken Ḥaqqī as his poetical name. He is a compendium of perfect qualities and a source of excellence. He gives instruction in all branches of knowledge, both in those in which the reasoning faculty is called into play and in those which depend on the memory. He has attained a high degree in Ṣūfī-ism, and among his works are the History of Madīnah the Tranquil , and a book on the modern Shaikhs of India, the date of the writing of which is given by the words zikru-'l-Auliyā.¹⁶⁷ From his earliest youth he has sought eagerly after God, and, on account of his long-standing friendship with them he was for some time the companion, in Fatḥpūr, of Shaikh Faiẓī and Mīrzā Niẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad, and by means of them I also had the honour of being permitted to wait on him, and continually enjoyed the advantages of his society. When a change came over the spirit of the time and the men of the time, all of whom are corrupters of what is good and compounded of the abominations of their own natures, and it was no longer safe to trust the dispositions of one's friends, the companionship of such a one and such a one¹⁶⁸ became disagreeable to him, and, the grace of God influencing him, he was impelled to journey to the most noble Ka‘bah, and he left Dihlī for Gujarāt, in the condition of one who is mysteriously attracted by God, and cut off from all worldly concerns. Thanks to the good offices and assistance of Mīrzā Niẓāmu-'d-dīn Aḥmad he there obtained a passage on a ship bound for the Ḥijāz, but, being hindered by physical difficulties, he was unable to reach Madīnah the Tranquil (on its inhabitants be peace and salutation!), and he spent some time in Makkah the glorious with Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Wahhāb of India, the follower of ¹¹⁴ Shaikh Raḥmatu-'llāh the traditionist (may the mercy of God be upon him!), who, having returned from the pilgrimage to Makkah with Ḥājī Begam,^168a came to Agra, where I drank some of the water of Zamzam^168b from his auspicious hands, and took some lessons from him in the traditional sayings of Muḥammad, by way of a good augury, and from him, Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Wahhāh, that is, he received permission to give instruction in the traditional sayings, and then returned to his well-loved native land. Here he cloaks his Ṣūfī-ism by giving instruction in those branches of knowledge which are included in the ordinary course of education. His aspirations are so high that he will not, if God the most High please, be ensnared on his heavenly way, and fail of attaining his object.

At the time when he returned from Makkah the glorious to Dihlī, and I, perplexed and troubled in pursuit of my object, was on my way to the imperial camp, I had the opportunity of paying my respects to him for a few minutes, and after I had arrived at Lāhōr I wrote him a letter. I place a copy of it on record by way of invoking a blessing and as a memento:—

“After expressing my subjection to you, and the obligations which I owe you, I would represent that the affairs of this disappointed exile are, so far as is compatible with exile and disappointment, matter for thankfulness, and it is my hope that you too are constantly surrounded by God's protection. When you returned to Dihlī and honoured me for one delightful hour, that interview did nothing but excite my thirst and vehement desire for your society, and so much remained unsaid and unheard that I cannot express it. ‘A year of companionship is but an hour’¹⁶⁹ as has been said, and I myself experienced the truth of the saying. Indeed, the same might be said even of lifelong companionship (between friends). They said, ‘We have tarried for a day, or part of a day.’^169a This world does not allow us sufficient time for companionship, or the delights of the society of friends, if their friendship be true and its bonds strong: it may be that on the morrow, beyond the grave, we shall enjoy this companionship, ‘seated face to face on thrones’^169b please God. To-day we must devote our efforts to strengthening the bonds and to directing ¹¹⁵ our aims aright. The time for true companionship will be the morrow, when presence and absence will be alike, and what we here call separation and union will be the same. May God (be He glorified and exalted!) grant to us some kind of affinity, even though it should be common to all, so that we may understand truly what sincerity really means. I pray you to keep your heart towards me, as mine is towards you. I have ascertained with the eye of certainty that the real meaning of affection and the true signification of friendship have implanted themselves in your nature, ‘and praise be to God therefor.’ May he increase them and not diminish them.’ There was an honoured man, one of the dwellers in the two holy places, who used constantly to recite this prayer:—‘O God! as Thou hast favoured so do Thou increase Thy favours, and as Thou hast increased them so do Thou continue them, and as Thou hast continued them, so do Thou bless them to us.’ May God (be He glorified and exalted!) increase, continue, and bless to us the gift of true knowledge and love, by the dignity of the chief of the first and the last of men, Muḥammad, and his family, and his companions, all of them! If you should ever honour your friend with a kind letter I hope that you will also honour and delight me with whatever holy news you may have of his holiness the Shaikh, him to whom all men turn, and who is named Kalīmu-'llāh (may God bless and preserve him!), and that you will convey to his noble presence a few words from me, so that I may not disappear from his memory. Much as I wished to write something on this subject my pen refused its office. Nor was there any need that I should write anything, for when the time came for me to make my requests of the Mīrzā¹⁷⁰ I composed some verses on this subject, moreover I wrote plainly that there was no occasion for ceremony. I hope that you will be diligent in delivering that letter. Farewell.”

Shaikh Faiẓī, after his return from the Dakan, following his old custom of ingeniously tormenting his friends, was very desirous of gathering them round him in order to increase the attractions of his social circle and to indulge in conversation with them and was constantly annoying and troubling them (to come to him).

¹¹⁶ He sent several letters from Lāhor to express the strong desire which he had of summoning Shaikh ‘Abdu-'l-Ḥaqq to him. The Shaikh, however, was exceedingly vexed, and would not come, but sent letters containing excuses, and made his seclusion from the world his pretext for not coming. Shaikh Faiẓī then sent in reply the letter of which a copy appears below, and this is the last letter which he wrote, and what is written in it is written.

“My strong desire of seeing you, my spiritual friend, dear to the Lord (may He long preserve you!) was not of the nature of official or formal matters, that it should have been reduced to writing. At first I was not aware that you were sick at heart— that heart which displays bounty—and it is probable that I may have expressed my desire (somewhat too strongly). After I became aware that you had closed this way of access I gave your wishes precedence over my own, and I trust that the odour (of this action) will be agreeable to you. My request now is that you should not give yourself over to melancholy in your place of retirement. Two or three days ago that choicest of saints, Miyān Shaikh Mūsā,¹⁷¹ honoured my poor dwelling with a visit, and said that it was not improbable that you would be coming hither about this time. I pressed him to tell me what grounds he had for saying this, but he left the matter uncertain and undetermined. I swear by God, the Supreme Object of worship, that I gave him no hint of my own wishes, nor shall I do so.

If you remain at home, it is light, and if you come it will be light upon light. I swear by God that I have constrained myself to forego this wish and that I have not of my own accord given any intimation of my desire, nor shall I do so. I hope that you will not vex yourself further regarding this matter. But if I had wings I would sit daily on the roof of your chamber and would gather ¹¹⁷ the grains of your affectionate discourse, trilling forth the song of my desire. What more shall I write? Your pearl-like^171a petitions are few and far between. I pray you for God's sake close not the road against the caravan of my secrets. If it is closed from your side it shall not be from mine. Greetings. I send supplications to the Alexander of the throne of holy poverty, Miyān Buhlūl. In the past two days what is expressed in the following quatrain has come to pass in a certain counection:—

Quatrain.

“Faiẓī! Old age is upon thee, walk circumspectly,
Let each step that thou takest be such as may be
approved.
Through spectacles of glass thou wilt perceive naught,
Tear a bit from thy heart and place it on thine eyes.”

Glory be to God! That Shaikh Faiẓī has passed away and become a by-word, and as for these, the mention of whom is still among us for a few days, or rather for a few hours, who are they that we should waste time in addressing them where preparation is even now being made for our departure hence? All that remains to them is the wind of speech. How long shall we waste our time in measuring it?

Couplet.

It will not be long before no trace of us remains,
You have broken the flask and spilt the wine, there is no
cupbearer (to replace it).

He originally came from Banoda, a village in Sind. He was a pupil of Makhdūmu-'l-Mulk. He is distinguished for the nobility of his descent. Although he was formerly much puffed up with the pride of learning and youth he has now gained experience, and his former pride has been changed for poverty and humility. For some time he held the appointment of Ṣadr of the Ṣūba of the Panjāb^172a but has now for a long time past held that of Qāẓī of the new settlement of the Ilāhābād,^172b and remains in the imperial service, contenting himself with the small allowance which has been allotted to him in that city, and refraining from constantly visiting the houses of the worldly. He is endowed with probity and is zealous in devotion to God.

In those branches of knowledge which call for the exercise of the reasoning faculty he was a pupil of Ḥakīmu-l-Mulk,^173a and he acquired those which depend on the memory from other teachers. He is a capable and ready divine, and very liable to fits of religious ecstasy. He is now in attendance on the imperial court. His understanding is good. He is inclined to religious retirement, and most of his time is spent in devotion. He was employed for some years, by the interest of Qilīj Khān,^173b in the administration of some parganas in the Dū-āb. He has now come to court and is ranked among the manṣabdārs.^173c

He has acquired the honour of performing the pilgrimage to Makkah the glorious and Madinah the delectable. He is well-versed in those branches of learning which depend on the memory and was for a long time in the imperial service. He was employed for four years, alone and without any co-adjutor, on the translation of the Mahābhārata, which is known as the Razm-nāma ,^173d and what was begun by Naqīb Khān was finished by him. On account of an accusation of the crime of cow-killing which was brought against him by the Hindus of that pargana^173e an order was issued for his banishment to Bhakkar, and the Khān-i-Khānān, who was in those days in charge of the Ṣūba (of Multān), treated him with great consideration and kindness, and applied ointment to the wounds of his soul. After that land had been completely subjugated the Khān-i-Khānān took Ḥājī Sulṭān with him thence, and promised to procure the reversal of the sentence of banishment which had been passed against him. Ḥājī Sulṭān returned secretly to his native place, and the Khān-i-Khānān, after conquering the province of Asīrgaṛh and Burhānpūr, prayed in one of his petitions for the reversal of the sentence against him. His request was granted, and Providence watched over the Ḥājī's affairs, so that the emperor privately ordered Shaikh Abū-l-Faẓl to appoint him Karōrī of Thānēsar and Karnāl,¹⁷⁴ so that he was freed from the fear that had beset him. He still holds the appointment of Karōrī.

¹¹⁹ Poetry.

“How many mysterious favours are bestowed by God,
The mystery of which is great to the intelligent^174a
understanding!”

These events were, as one might say, comfort^174b after adversity.

At the time when Ḥājī Sultān was translating the Mahābhārata one asked him what it was that he was writing. He replied, “I am translating what was well known ten thousand years ago into the modern tongue.”

He is a Sayyid of authentic descent, adorned with the excellence of learning and decked with the jewel of piety. His hand is drawn within the skirt of contentment, and he passes his time in instructing students, having his dwelling on the far side of the river at Agra, near to where the late Shaikh Bahā-'u-'ddīn, the Muftī, used to live. Students and Ṣūfīs are gathered together in his hospice and profit by his companionship. He had one pupil, a one-eyed man named Maulānā Farīd, of whom it was said that, although¹⁷⁵ he had not studied deeply, as soon as a difficult question or subtle and obscure argument was propounded to him from any advanced^175a book whatsoever, he would at once call for pen and inkstand, and, having reduced it to writing, would solve it immediately, although he could not give the solution orally, or even read what he had himself written. Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh^175b and the whole of the Ghauṯiyyah order submitted themselves entirely to the authority of this (Farīd), so that their subjection to the Sayyid may be imagined. I have also heard that the same Farīd would in one night relate to Sayyid Shāh Mīr events that had just happened in the farthest parts of the world, east or west. Some attributed this power to the possession of a jinn, and others to other causes. In the year in which the emperor summoned Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh from Āgra with great favour and kindness and assigned a place to him in the ‘Ibādat-khāna on an occasion when there was a gathering of the Shaikhs and ‘Ulamā, I one night in private questioned the Shaikh concerning the matter of Farīd the scribe, and, after relating what was spread abroad concerning him, I said, “Are these things really so?” The Shaikh first of all enumerated his own fragmentary writings and the works of which he was the author, detailed his own accomplishments and acquirements, and gave me a full account of himself, and then said, “In spite of all these favours which God (may His Majesty be exalted!) has bestowed upon me I cannot call myself so much us a gleaner (in the field of knowledge) after Shaikh Farīd, and all that you have heard of him does not amount to one hundredth part of the truth. His dignity is above it all, and he has attained this great good fortune by means of sweeping the threshold of the holy Sayyid Shāh Mīr. Now I had seen Sayyid Shāh Mīr before this at Badāon, whither he had gone on business connected with his subsistence allowance. A copy of the Mashāriqu-'l-Anwār¹⁷⁶ was between us, and we had much learned discourse. He certainly had the meditative faculty strongly developed, a pleasant disposition, a ready understanding and a good stock of knowledge, but I did not find him such a prodigy as Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh and other men had represented. As for the rest, God the most High knows the truth. It may be that he purposely concealed his abilities from me, but indeed what need is there to suppose that he might not have displayed to others those abilities of the display of which^176a he allowed me to be disappointed?

He is one of the cousins of Sayyid Shāh Mīr. He studied most of the books usually current, and acquired all such knowledge as is included in the ordinary course of education under Miyān Vajīhu-'d-dīn,^176b in Gujarāt, and also became his disciple in spiritual matters. He acquired the honour of performing the pilgrimage of Islām, and studied the traditions in the Ḥijāz, and there received authority to give instruction therein. Thence he returned to India, and spent some time in Lāhor in the company of wealthy and powerful men, who were concerned with the affairs of the state. He then broke off his companionship with these men, and lived in Sirhind, clad in the garb of Shaikhs and the raiment of those who follow a life of holy poverty, and for some time gave instruction there to his followers, who were clad in blue, and he also claimed to be a religious leader. Since he was ever desirous of going again to Gujarāt, and thence to the two holy places, he could not rest in the district of Sirhind, and went to Bangāl, where he is now travelling. It remains to be seen whither his destiny will lead him and in what land he will at last find the happiness of retirement.

He is the successor of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ.¹⁷⁷ Few of the Shaikhs of this age can be his equals in Sūfī-istic converse. In his assembly the talk was ever of “true knowledge,” and nothing was spoken of save the contemplation of unity and the asceticism of the Sūfīs, but who knows what his private opinions may be,^177a or to what extent he will carry his claims? At the beginning of his career, when the report of him was spread abroad in all the surrounding country, I heard that the Shaikh had succeeded his father in the throne of holy poverty and religious leadership and that in some accomplisḥ-ments ^177b he excelled him, for instance, that he could explain the meaning of the Qur'ān in such a manner that there was no need of a commentary,^177c besides having committed the Qur'ān to memory, so that he had it on the tip of his tongue. Accordingly in the year H. 970 (A.D. 1562-63) I went to visit him in Āgra, and that without^177d the intervention of any person to introduce me and to act as a mentor, and in the character of one who was altogether free from ceremony and had been long disappointed of his object, a character to which I had accustomed myself. Indeed, in visiting holy men worldly means and the intervention of men interested in externals only are disturbing elements in the attainment of one's object. I made the usual salutation and I had a conversation with him face to face. The Shaikh himself, from the high consideration in which he was held, was probably a slave to those ceremonial observances dear to Shaikhs' sons, and my unceremonial manner of visiting him displeased him. Those who were present in his assembly said to me, “Where do you come from?” I said, “From Sahsarām.”¹⁷⁸ When they asked me whether I had made any advance in the study of the sciences, I said that I had, at one time or another, studied a little of each one of them. Since Sahsawān is an inconsiderable town and at that time Qilīj Khan,^178a Caugān Begi, the disciple of the Shaikh's father, was jāgirdār of that place, I was of small account in his eyes, and he esteemed me lightly and began to jest with me and mock me, and made a sign to a jester who was present, prompting him to scare me and turn me out of my place, but I, becoming aware of these proceedings, the like of which I had often witnessed, pretended that I had noticed nothing and posed as an innocent fool. The jester then began his pranks, saying, “the odour of some sweet scent has reached my nostrils, and my brain is becoming disordered, let those who are present in the assembly have a care, lest I do some one a mischief.” He then began to foam at the mouth and one of the Shaikh's companions, who posed as a Ṣūfī, asked me whether I had applied the scent to myself. I said, “Yes; but what is the matter?” He said, “This person whom you see in this state of unconsciousness was once bitten by a mad dog, and now, whenever he smells a sweet scent he falls to foaming at the mouth, howling like a dog, and tries to bite people. Have a care for yourself.” Those who were present there began to flee and the Shaikh too, inaugurating this new custom, joined with them in setting himself knowingly to terrify me, and became the accomplice ^178b of those devilish men. At that moment I said, “It is strange that men travel from distant lands to this exalted threshold in order to obtain the fulfilment of their desires when, as a matter of fact, one who has been bitten by a mad dog cannot find a remedy here.” The Shaikh asked me whether I knew of a remedy, and, on my replying that I did, asked me what it was. I replied, “This man should be beaten on the head with shoes and clods, as Shaikh Sa'dī (may God have mercy upon him!) said:—

They were all astonished, and I continued, “The strange thing is,” I said, “that kulūkh is also the name of a vegetable drug, which is a remedy for the bite of a dog.” The Shaikh then became uneasy,¹⁷⁹ fearing that his jest had fallen flat, and said, “Come, let us go and busy ourselves with the study of the words of God and His prophet.” Then, taking a copy of the glorious Qur'ān he proceeded to expound a verse from the chapter of “The Cow,”^179a and in doing so exercised the right of private judgment very freely.^179b His pupils, blockheads that they were, assented to every absurdity that he concocted, saying, “We believe it, we accept it!” I, since my heart was full (of indignation) said, “Perhaps this interpretation which is given by the Shaikh is to be found in the commentary.” He replied, “I am speaking of the secondary meaning^179c of the text and what may be inferred from it,^179d and this is a common practice and by no means a peculiarity of my own.” I said, “Taking this for granted, is your interpretation literal or the metaphorical meaning of the text?” He replied, “The metaphorical meaning.” I replied, “Pray then explain the connection between the two interpretations,” and led him on into an argument regarding the meanings of the text. He replied disconnectedly and glanced, in an agitated manner, in all directions. When I held him firmly to the point he lost his temper, and said, shutting up the Qur'ān, “I have not studied dialectics.” I said, “You have presumed so far as to interpret a text of the Qur'ān in a manner unsupported by tradition, and it is necessary that the connection between the literal interpretation and (your) metaphorical interpretation should be investigated.” He then turned the subject and began to ask me about myself. In the meantime I produced a portion of a commentary which I had written on the Qaṣīdatu'l-Burdah ,¹⁸⁰ and called his attention to the expressions in the opening couplet of that qaṣīdah which had struck me. He praised my work, and himself also said something on the same subject, and our interview came to an end in that manner. This was all I saw of him until the time when I entered the imperial service, when the Shaikh in obedience to a summons from the Court came alone and helpless to the ‘Ibādat-khāna, where he took his place. It was on a Friday when the Shaikh with one or two of his intimate companions first entered the ‘Ibadat-khāna and Mīrzā Ghiyāṯu-'d-din ‘Alī the theologian,^180a Mīrzā Ākh'und, and Mīrzā ‘Alī Āṣaf Khān^180b had been ordered to examine the Shaikh thoroughly and to question him on his Ṣūfī-ism, in order to see what he would let fall. Āṣaf Khān introduced into the conversation the following quatrain from the Liwā‘iḥ,^180c

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

He then asked, “How can God the most Holy be described as “all” or “the whole,” since He is above being defined as a part or the whole?” The Shaikh who had undergone much tribulation before coming to Court, and whose pride, haughtiness and self-conceit were completely broken, since he had endured much trouble, was¹⁸¹ very modest and indistinctly muttered a few words which nobody understood. At last I, growing bold, ventured to say, “Although the Maulavī Jāmī (may his tomb be sanctified!) has in this quatrain applied the expression “the whole” to God the most Holy and most High, yet he has in another quatrain spoken of Him as being divisible into parts, and far be that from the most High!

Quatrain.

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

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

Mīr Abū'l-Ghaiṯ of Bukhārā¹⁸² (may the mercy of God be upon him!) used to say, “Let him be what he may, with his devotee's raiment, his assemblies of those vowed to holy poverty, and his discourses on mysticism. We believe in him with our whole heart!”

In the year in which the Khān-i-Zamān was defeated^182a Shaikh Ẓīyā'u-'llāh accompanied the army to Ambeṭhī, and had an interview with his holiness Miyān Shaikh Niẓāmu-'d-dīn (may his tomb be sanctified!). When the Miyān was commenting on the blessed verse, “And therein shall they be given to drink of a cup of wine, mixed with the water of Zanjabīl, a fountain in paradise named Salsabīl,”^182b Shaikh Ẓiyā'u-'llāh, with a view of displaying his ability, interrupted the discourse, and said, “There is a discrepancy between this verse and another verse of the Qur'ān.” The Miyān was moved to anger and said, “Holy is God! The father dived in that (sea of doubt) and must now be feeling the utmost need of intercession, and the son here sets himself to prove discrepancies between the words of God (be He honoured and glorified!)”

He was a high-minded man and a follower of the pure religion who had so acquired angelic qualities that they became, as it were, ingrafted in his noble nature. Though clad in the outward garb of wealth he possessed the inward attributes of holy poverty. From association with many of the great Shaikhs of his time he had profited much, and had inherited much of the customs of his noble ancestors. In good breeding, but especially in liberal disbursement of his substance,¹⁸³ in independence of character, good fellowship, and uprightness in his dealings, he was one of the noblest of God's works. He followed the ceremonial observances of the law and imitated the laudable qualities of the ancients and their successors so closely that he omitted not the observance of one tittle of the holy law.^183a Such were his endeavours to fulfil all the requirements of the law of the congregation^183b that even in the time of his mortal sickness, when he was suffering from a painful chronic disorder he did not omit the recital of the “Allāhu Akbar”^183c at the commencement of his prayers. The conversation in his assemblies consisted always of texts from the Qur'ān, traditional sayings of the prophet, and the words of holy men. He died in the year H. 995 (A.D. 1587),^183d and the words “The Mīr of laudable qualities”^183e were found to give the date of his death.

When the heart in calling loved ones to remembrance blossoms like the rose it is not becoming that the dust of vexation should reach or settle upon the hearts of friends even though the account of their lives be somewhat prolonged.

Miyān Kamālu-d-dīn Ḥusain is the worthy son of Maulānā Ḥasan of Shīrāz who at the time when Shāh Isma‘īl was expelled from Shīrāz went to Makkah the glorious, and on his return thence came to Gujarāt in the reign of Sulṭān Sikandar Lōdī,¹⁸⁴ and, accompanying the caravan of Sayyid Rafi‘u-d-dīn the traditionist,^184a and Mīyān Abū-'l-Fatḥ of Khurāsān, the father of Miyān Budh, he took up his residence in Agra. The famous and well-known Shaikh Zainu-d-dīn^184b praises him as follows:—

127 “My verse is of both reason and tradition, therefore I would
that it should be hearkened to
By him who combines the knowledge of sciences both of
reason and tradition, Maulānā Ḥasan.”

Miyān Kamālu-d-dīn Ḥusain is an angel in the form of a man, whose laudable qualities and praiseworthy attributes are more than can be either written or related. The emperor, recognizing that he was distinguished for his greatness and loftiness (of mind), was exceedingly desirous that he should enter the imperial service. At last he abandoned everything, and contenting himself with a small grant of land for his subsistence found complete happiness in the exile of poverty and the honour of good faith, and spends his time in continual devotion. He lives, free from care, sometimes in Dihlī and sometimes in Agra. From earliest youth till old age he has walked unintermittently in the path of devotion, reciting the praises of God, giving alms, reciting set portions of the word of God, and reading the Qur'ān, knowing no other habit of life; but with all this excellence and perfection in religious matters he has the highest ability, and perfect eloquence, excellent penmanship, skill in orthography and a masterly style are his by inheritance.

When I first came to Agra in my youth, in the time of Bairam Khān, the first place where I lodged was his masjid, where bounty was bestowed upon me, and his dwelling, where my soul was cherished, and there, in my opinion, the gates of happiness were first opened to me.

From that time till the time of writing this hasty memoir a period of full forty years has elapsed, during which time I have observed that his kindness, sympathy, and regard for my friendship have increased daily, although (I could) not (have believed that) there was room for any increase:—

Poetry.

Enough of love, for that grows less, enough of beauty, for
that decays.
But my love for thee and thy beauty remain undiminished
—nay, have increased.

What now follows is a few drops distilled from his musk-diffusing pen, now incorporated by me in this record of friendship. They are as follows:—

“In¹⁸⁵ the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! ¹²⁸
We bless his prophet, the gracious one, and love for thee
has not waned but its strength is increased towards
thee,

and my desire towards thee is as it is.

This atom of dust, inconsiderable and full of defects and blemishes, Kamālu-d-dīn Ḥusain, after conveying to you the greetings of an exile and the salutations of one who longs to see you, with the tongue of abridgment and brevity, of supplication and poverty, conveys to the enlightened mind, coruscating with benignity, namely, the mind of my worshipful master, the resort of clemency (may God save and preserve him and bestow on him all that pertains to matters both of religion and of the world!), the intelligence that since in these mournful days the hardships of loneliness and the grief of separation, the anxiety of religious duties and the absence of all traces of love and friendship have become my lot, I have sometimes in my restlessness travelled to the imperial city of Dihlī and have there acquired the honour of visiting the blessed tombs (of the Saints), and at other times have gone to Agra to see my friendless children (may God guard them with his power!) who dwell there in retirement, and I was much disturbed in mind, when those kind letters from my lord¹⁸⁶ began to arrive at irregular intervals. I swear by God that they conveyed very much consolation and comfort to my mournful heart, and for some days I took delight in studying and repeating them, and morning and evening I raised and still raise my hands in prayer to the All-Wise, praying Him to grant length of life to my lord:—^186a

Hemistich.

(I pray to) God that thou mayest live till the day of
resurrection.

But I will not dilate further on this subject, and will commit it to the care of the All-Wise God who knows the truth, and passing to my ulterior (outward) object, will bring it to your consideration,^186b informing you that for a long time I endured great grief and sorrow from hearing of the death of that repository of humanity, inseparably connected with liberality, him who had acquired all perfections, Mīrzā Niẓāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad, and from the passing away of all the excellence of that phoenix of the age and of his love and faithful affection for you, my lord.¹⁸⁷ “Verily we are God's, and to Him do we return!” What can I say, and to whom can I confide these griefs, which assail me ¹²⁹ incessantly and repeatedly? At all events we are awaiting our own death, and we have no resource but the favour of the bountiful God. My tongue is now ever chanting this prayer, “O God have mercy upon us, behold the sweat of our brows and the multitude of our groans! May the physician be disappointed of us, and may our friends weep for us! O God, have mercy upon us when the earth surrounds us, and our friends love us! Scatter Thy favours among us, and may the wind cease to blow upon us!” I hope that our end will be good and that we shall preserve our faith unblemished. Since the bearer of this letter was in great haste to depart I have written it hurriedly at night, and have not been able to explain one thousandth part of the desire which I have towards your service. You will be able to conceive it in your pure heart, for verily hearts have intercourse one with another. Salutations and honour be upon you and on him who is with you, both first and last, both inwardly and outwardly.”

He is one of the foremost^187a among the wise men of the age and one of the chief among profound and eminent scholars. He acquired a thorough knowledge of Islamic tradition under Sayyid Rafī'u-d-dīn the traditionist, and has now dwelt for about fifty years in the quarter named after the above-mentioned Mīr in Agra, engaged in teaching those branches of knowledge which call for the exercise of the reasoning faculty as well as those which depend upon the memory. Many able and ready scholars have sat at his feet and have gone out into the world (with the fruits of his teaching). Both I and Miyān Kamālu-d-dīn Ḥusain, just mentioned, shared the benefits of being taught by this great man. His most noble and orthodox son, Shaikh ‘Īsā, is now, by the emperor's appointment, the authorized deliverer of fatwās¹⁸⁸ in Agra.

130 He was an old Shaikh who took up his residence in Sambhal. Miyān Ḥātim of Sambhal^188a was his pupil, and used sometimes to visit him and request him to put up a fātiḥah on his behalf. On one occasion I, when I was in attendance on the late Miyān Ḥātim in my childhood, had the honour of waiting upon the Maulānā.

He was one of the foremost among the distinguished men (of his day) and was employed in the instruction of students in the college of the imperial city of Dihlī. In those branches of knowledge which depend on the memory and which are usually studied in India, he was the most accomplished man of his time. He had a generous disposition.

He was one of the contemporaries and equals in age of Shaikh Ḥusain. In knowledge of mathematics, philosophy, and medicine he was unequalled, and as a teacher he was associated with Shaikh Ḥusain, and by the blessing of their noble companionship the doors of bounty were opened to students. The Maulavī was possessed of considerable wealth, and one night some thieves, instigated by the inhabitants of the city, broke into his house and murdered him.^188d

He was a most learned man and performed the duties of his office of Qāẓī with great integrity and honesty. He acquired his knowledge and good breeding from his teacher, Shaikh Niẓāmu-ddīn of Ambēṭhī¹⁸⁹ (may his tomb be sanctified!), and the Shaikh, from the time when the Miyān first began to study in his hospice, had a special regard for him and bestowed care on his education, and whenever the Qāẓī used to make his request, saying, “Why should not I too receive my share from the reservoir of your saintship?” Shaikh Niẓāmu-d-dīn would always reply, “Qāẓī Mubārak has devoured this world and gained (his reward in) the next.” The Qāẓī lived highly regarded, honoured, and respected ¹³¹ to the end of his life, and thus too took his departure to the next world.

Among the sages and learned men who came and settled in Gopāmau for the purpose of studying under the Qāẓī (on him be God's mercy!), and there grew to manhood, so that for the sake of profiting by their society men came from great distances, and attained to perfection thereby, was the respected Budh, who used to give instruction in all the books commonly studied. Another was Sayyid Muḥīyy, of whom the same may be said, and there were others too in the same category. That caravan of sojourners has now reached its journey's end, leaving no successors, and the mansions and abodes of learning have now been cleared of the tigers of the forest of knowledge, so that those who, fox-like, are ever ready to creep into an earth, have taken their place. The author of the Mashāriqu-'l-Anwār too makes the same complaint of his own time, saying no sooner is the den clear of the lioness with two cubs than the gravid vixen enters it in the morning.

Verse.

This one small loaf^189a remains to poor Ḥasan,
I fear that day when not even this will be left.

He was a learned man, argumentative and disputatious, and in his knowledge of first principles and deductions therefrom he had no equal in his time. The power of his memory¹⁹⁰ was such that in the midst of an argument when there was any necessity for an appeal to any authority, he would seem to recite from memory whole pages and would say, “This is what is written in such and such a book, look it up and see,” and would thus confute his adversary, but afterwards, when the book was searched, no trace of the pretended quotation would be found. In this manner he one day confuted, in the imperial assembly, Maulānā Iliyās the astrologer, who had been the tutor of the Emperor Muḥammad Humāyūn, and had great skill and readiness in the preparation of astronomical tables, so that the Maulānā, disgusted with his opposition, set out from Court, and travelling through the pargana of Mohān^190a in the Sarkār of Lakhnau, which was his jāgīr, he gave up his military appointment in the imperial service, and ¹³² proceeded in haste to Gujarāt, and thence to Makkah the glorious, and thence went to the land of 'Irāq and Āẕarbāījān, and Ardabīl, which was his well-loved native land, and there he died. The story of his dealings with Shāh Ismā‘īl II is well known, and is briefly as follows: When Maulānā Iliyās arrived at Ardabīl he wrote a letter to Shāh Ismā‘īl, who had been confined by Shāh Ṭahmāsp in the fortress of Qahqaha, saying, “From the aspects of the planets I have ascertained that in such a month you will obtain your freedom, and from the dungeon will attain to the highest rank, and will sit on the throne of the kingdom. Just as he had prophesied something was put into Shāh Ṭahmāsp's cup after a short space of time, and the affairs of Irāq fell into great confusion, and the amīrs and ministers of state summoned Shāh Ismā‘īl from his prison, by way of Ardabīl, with a view of setting him on the throne. Now the maulavī had said in his letter, “On your way from Qahqaha, when you reach Ardabīl it is necessary that you pay me a visit so that certain agreements and settlements may be made between us in your presence, and certain rites of exorcism may be performed while we are face to face.” It so happened that Shāh Ismā‘īl was in great haste and did not visit the maulavī's house, but after leaving Ardabīl he turned back and went to the maulavī's house with the object of waiting upon him. The maulavī shut the door of his mansion and refused to grant him an interview. After waiting a long time the king was compelled to break the door, and, entering the maulavī's room by force, waited upon him; but the maulavī covered his face, and, turning round, sat facing the wall, and said, “The appointed hour passed, and you did not come; why should I now see your face?” Shāh Ismā‘īl turned away disappointed, and although he became king, the nobles of the realm, a year after he had ascended the throne, conspired to prompt his sister, Parījān Khānum, to attempt his life. He became cognizant of the plot, but before he could do anything to baffle it Parījān Khānum suffocated him and left his ¹³³ room, closing the door behind her on his corpse.

He is a true^191a ‘Arab and is nephew to that Shaikh Zainu-d-dīn of Jabal-i‘Āmilī who was an ecclesiastical dignitary and religious guide among the Shī‘ahs, and on whom the Sulṭān of Turkey after much finesse and many stratagems laid hands when he was in Makkah the glorious, and after summoning him to Constantinople, put him to death. Shaikh Muḥammad is ranked among the manṣabdārs, and is distinguished for his bravery and valour and noted for that generosity and liberality which are characteristic of the ‘Arabs. He is also well known for his good breeding and courtesy and those branches of knowledge which are generally treated of in the Arabic language, and in the humanities generally his attainments are such that he may be called a second Kisā'ī.^191b The following letter, which he wrote in Lāhōr in answer to one from me, in which I had been guilty of some insolence, when our friendship first began, is an example of his correspondence.

[Here follow five letters in Arabic, of which the Editor of the Text writes in a footnote, “Be it known that the whole of the text of these five letters, from beginning to end, is full of errors, and I have found it impossible, notwithstanding the utmost care, to correct it from the three manuscripts at my disposal.” After a careful examination of the text in MSS. (A) and (B) I am compelled to agree with the Editor. Professor T. W. Arnold, who has kindly come to my assistance, agrees with me that the text is so corrupt that no satisfactory translation of these letters can be given. He also agrees, however, that the text, unsatisfactory as it is, is sufficient to indicate that the letters are not worth translating and consist, almost entirely, of long strings of bombastic and extravagant compliments. For this reason I have refrained from an attempt to reconstruct the text from other MSS.—T. W. H.]

He was the faithful pupil of Shāh Fatḥu-'llāh, but notwithstanding this he is an orthodox Sunnī. He entered the imperial service in the year in which Kābul was conquered, and was entrusted with the education of the emperor's eldest son until the young prince could repeat certain lessons from Persian and other treatises on philosophy. Shaikh Abū'l-Faẓl also for some time secretly received instruction from him in the exact sciences, and in physics, and other branches of philosophy, but notwithstanding this he never attempted to advance the Shaikh's interests, so that while he himself has his place on the carpet in the imperial presence his master takes his stand on the bare floor. Shaikh Ḥasan ‘Alī, finding that the conduct of such men was not in accord with his religious views, gave up the allowance which he used to receive and went to Gujarāt, where he associated himself for a time with Mīrzā Niẓāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad. The latter, and his son, Muḥammad Sharīf, received much profitable instruction from him in those branches of knowledge which exercise the reasoning faculty, and in secular learning, so much so indeed, that they advanced to perfection therein.

After the death of Shāh Fatḥu-'llāh Shaikh Abū-'l-Faẓl and other courtiers recounted some of the Shaikh's accomplishments ¹³⁷ and perfections in the imperial assembly, whereby the emperor was so impressed that Shaikh Ḥasan ‘Alī is now (recognized as) the spiritual successor of Shāh Fatḥu-'llāh. At that time an imperial order was issued summoning Shaikh Ḥasan ‘Alī to the imperial presence, and he accordingly came to Lāhōr, but when he paid his respects at Court Niẓāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad directed him to perform the sijdah (instead of the kūrnish),¹⁹³ which so displeased him that he made his release from the obligation of performing the ceremony a condition of his attendance, and even in his house he could not bear (to witness at Court) so many things which were abominations to him, and “the elephant once more remembered Hindustan”^193a and on the plea of an intention to visit his mother he obtained leave to go to his own country, and in the year H. 998 (A.D. 1589-90) he arrived at Thatha, when the Khān-i-Khānān was governor of that province, and having attained to trust in God and contentment of heart he set out for his own country, and when he arrived at Hurmuz he sent a message to the officers of the imperial court saying, “Praise be to God! I am freed from the hypocritical companionship of my friends.” Please God he has attained the object of his desires.

Although he is by religion a Shí‘ah^193c he is distinguished for his impartiality, justice, virtue, modesty, piety, continence, and such qualities as are possessed by noble men, and is well known for his learning, clemency, quickness of understanding, singleness of heart, clearness of perception, and acumen. He is the author of several able works, and he has written a monograph on the “undotted commentary”¹⁹⁴ of Shaikh Faiẓī which is beyond all praise. He also possesses the poetic faculty and writes impressive poetry. He was introduced to the emperor by the instrumentality of the physician Abū-'l-Fatḥ,^194a and when the victorious imperial army reached Lāhōr, and Shaikh Mu‘in the Qāẓī of Lāhōr, when he was paying his respects to the emperor, was afflicted suddenly in the presence chamber with the falling sickness, which came upon him in consequence of the feebleness of old age, and the failure of his natural powers, the emperor took pity on his weakness, and said, “The Shaikh is past his work, ¹³⁸ and we have therefore appointed Qāẓī Nūru-'llāh to the post which he held.” In truth he has reduced the insolent muftīs and the crafty and subtle muḥtasibs of Lāhōr, who venture to give lessons to the teacher of the angels, to order, and has closed to them the avenues of bribery, and restrained them within due bounds as closely as a nut is enclosed in its shell, and to such a degree that stricter discipline could not be imagined. One might almost say that the author of the following verses had the Qāẓī in his mind when he wrote them:—

“Thou art he who has never in all his life admitted
Any statement by anybody in a law-suit, except the sworn
testimony of a witness.”

One day when he was in the house of Shaikh Faiẓī the Nīshā-pūrī commentary was the subject of discussion, and regarding the blessed verse:—“When he said to his companion, ‘Be not cast down, verily God is with us,’”^194b —which verse is held, by the great majority of commentators, to refer to the greatest of faithful witnesses of the truth (Abū Bakr)—may God be graciously pleased with him!—he said, “If the signification of the companionship referred to in the text be trifling and unimportant then the expression cannot be understood as conveying praise of anybody, but if it be said that the word is used in the conventional sense which has been attributed to it by traditionists, we come back to the question under debate, and I deny that there was any companionship (in that sense).”¹⁹⁵ I replied, “If a mere child even who knew the Arabic language were asked he would say that this verse clearly involves praise (of the person referred to therein) and not blame, and an African infidel, or a Jew, or a Hindū who knew Arabic, would give the same reply.” There was much controversy on the subject, and Shaikh Faiẓī after his usual vile custom took the side of the Qāẓī, though he actually had nothing whatever in common with either side. Suddenly a passage was turned up, in the Nīshāpūrī commentary itself, which supported my contention, and even went beyond it, saying that the verse, supposing that the prophet (may God bless and preserve him!) had at that moment been summoned to the immediate presence of God, would have been authority for regarding Abū Bakr and no other as the successor nominated by the prophet himself.

He lived in Āgra, leading an ascetic, abstemious, and pious life, and occupied in teaching divinity, and especially the traditions of the prophet. His strict observance of the holy law and his asceticism prevented him from mixing or associating with his fellow-men. He was in the habit of delivering authoritative commands and prohibitions in matters of faith. When, in obedience to a summons from Court, he attended the ‘Ibādatkhāna, he declined to observe the etiquette and ceremonies of the Court and used to preach and utter admonitions (without respect of persons). To Kh'āja ‘Abdu-ṣ-Ṣamad of Shīrāz, who, by reason of his habit of letting out for hire old cotton cloth for decorations, is known as Kh'āja ‘Abdu-'llāh,¹⁹⁶ and is much occupied with ceremonial prayers and fasts, and with supererogatory prayers and outward devotions, and had great faith in the Ḥājī, he used to say, “Kh'āja, all these observances will profit you nothing until you give a place in your heart to love for the orthodox successors of the prophet.”

He is one of the spiritual successors of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ.^196c Early in his career he acquired perfection (in learning), but later he no longer allowed such matters to burden his memory and gave himself up wholly to the delight of listening to the chants of mystics, and to fits of religious ecstasy. His majesty the emperor has a very high opinion of him. On the whole there was less of striving after appearances among the spiritual successors of Shaikh Muḥammad Ghauṯ than among those of Shaikh Salīm,¹⁹⁷ though each sect decried and sought to ruin the other; and now the words of ‘Alī, the leader of the faithful (may God be graciously pleased with him!), which he spoke on hearing the blessed verse, “The Jews say, ‘the Christians are grounded on nothing,’ and the Christians say, ‘the Jews are grounded on nothing!”^197a are applicable to both parties. ‘Alī said, on hearing this verse, “We believe it.” Praise be to God, no trace of either sect remains.

He possessed such outward accomplishments as a knowledge of Arabic, Qurānic commentaries, the traditions, and miscellaneous Persian compositions in prose and poetry, and was also adorned with spiritual perfection in such matters as devotion, piety, a mystic longing for union with God,^197b and religious ecstasy. He was descended from the maliks of the land of Gujarāt, and his venerable father bore the name of Malik Piyārū. Malik Mah-mūd, owing to the elegance and copiousness of his discourse, his knowledge, and his ingenuity, was accorded the great honour of conversing with the Khalīfah of the age, in the heavenly assemblies held at Court, and ingratiated himself with his majesty, and owing to the great pleasure which he took in rendering any service to the godly, he was for some time favoured by being appointed to and associated with the glorious post of the trusteeship of the blessed tomb of that pole-star of saints who have become united with God, Kh'āja Mu‘īnu-d-dīn-i-Sanjarī-yi-Ci shtī (may God sanctify his tomb!). But notwithstanding all the favour which the emperor bestowed upon him and the faith which he had in him, and his nearness to the emperor's person, owing to the all-mastering love and overpowering desire and the strength of the mystic bonds by which he was bound to that pole-star of the heaven of chiefship and centre of the circle of happiness, the lord Shāh-i-‘Ālam of Bukhārā, one of the sons of Makhdūm-i-Jahānīān of Bukhārā¹⁹⁸ (may God sanctify his honoured tomb!), him who was the beloved of the possessors of true knowledge, and who was sought after by travellers in the right path, Malik Maḥmūd exerted all the influence and employed all the interest which he possessed in preferring his request that he might be permitted to depart from Court and undertake the guardianship of the holy man's tomb, employing himself in the circumambulation of its threshold, the dwelling-place of angels, and urged his request with an utter disregard of the emperor's wishes. Since he was thoroughly sincere in his intention and design, and was altogether free from any suspicion of hypocrisy or worldly designs, his prayer was naturally granted, but after much discussion and debate, and he retired to the corner of contentment and resignation, passing most of his blessed time in Aḥmadābād in the service of that shrine until he departed from its parterres to those of the abode of peace.

141 The author had the honour of being admitted to his joy-diffusing presence in Fatḥpūr and Ajmīr.

The following opening couplet of a qaṣīdāh is by the Malik:—

“I have an ever-veering heart which nevertheless I call my
qibla-numā,^198a
Whithersoever I turn it, it still turns towards His eye-
brow.”

Pihānī is a village in the district of Qannauj.^198c Ṣadr-i-Jahān is a learned Sayyid of a happy disposition, most of whose life has been passed in the camp. He acquired his great learning under the tuition of Shaikh ‘Abdu-'n-Nabī,¹⁹⁹ and it was in consequence of the Shaikh's exertions that he was appointed chief muftī of the empire, a post which he held for several years. After the religious leaders of India had fallen into disgrace, his habits of submission to authority and his time-serving and worldly disposition led him to regard before everything the honour and esteem which he enjoyed in the world. He accompanied the physician Humām^199a on his embassy to the ruler of Tūrān,^199b and when he returned thence he was honoured by being appointed Ṣadr of the empire. At the time when it was noised abroad in Lāhōr that those who remained of the 'Ulamā were to be banished to Makkah the glorious, and a list of them had been prepared, the Ṣadr-i-Jahān said one day, “I fear lest I may have been included in this class.” Mīrzā Niẓāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad, who had prepared the list, said, “Why should you be sent to Makkah?” The Ṣadr-i-Jahān asked the Mīrzā, why he needed to ask the question, and the Mirzā replied, “You have never given utterance to God's words, that you should be worthy of this banishment.”

The Ṣadr-i-Jahān, notwithstanding his poetic gifts and his great aptitude for writing poetry, now repents of his former devotion to the art. The following opening couplet of a qaṣīdah is by him:—

“May each hair of my beloved's locks,
O God, become an affliction,
And may my heart be afflicted with each one of those
afflictions!”

I pray that, if it please God, he may be given grace to repent of foolish disputations on points of secular knowledge, of hypocrisy, ostentation, self-esteem, and extravagant boasting, which he must have learnt from one possessed of a devil, just as he has repented of writing poetry.

He assumed as a poet the nom-de-plume of Ṣarfī, and in him were displayed both the accomplishments of learning and the perfect qualities which distinguish a pious man. He was the spiritual successor of the great master Shaikh Ḥusain of Kh'ārazm (may God sanctify his tomb!), and acquired honour by performing the pilgrimage to the two most excellent holy places. He received from Shaikh Ibn-u Ḥajar a licence to give instruction in the traditions of Muḥammad, and clad in the robes of a Shaikh he travelled much and visited most of the Shaikhs of Arabia and Persia, and profited much by his intercourse with them, and received authority to assume the prerogatives of a religious teacher and spiritual guide, and as such he had many disciples, both in Hindūstān and Kashmīr. He was the superior of an hospice. He was the author of some sublime and beautiful works, and completed a Khamsah,^200a and wrote many treatises on the art of composing enigmas, and also quatrains on the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs, with a commentary. His works, indeed, are too numerous to be recapitulated, and had it not been necessary that some slight mention should be made of his Ṣūfī-ism, and his mystic longing for God, even these few works could not have been noticed. He was illustrious and much relied upon as an authority in all branches of learning which are treated of in Arabic, such as Quranic commentaries, the traditions of Muḥam-mad, and Ṣūfī-ism, and he was an authorized religious leader. Latterly, not long before his death, he was writing a commentary which was one of the most wonderful productions of his perfect genius. Both the late emperor and his present majesty had a wonderful belief in him and conferred distinction on him by admitting him to the honour of their society, regarding him with gracious favour, so that he was held in high estimation and much honoured. He was generous and open-handed beyond anything that can be imagined of his contemporaries.

Although his poetry was very poor, in accordance with the verse:—“Poetry does not become the learned,” he used nevertheless, continually to exercise his intellect in this direction. These following few couplets are by him:—

Couplets.²⁰¹

“I see that comely face manifest in whatever I regard, ¹⁴³
“Though I look at a hundred thousand mirrors in all that
one face is manifest.
“On all sides people are wandering in search of the Friend,
“And the strange thing is that the Friend is manifest on
every side.”

Other couplets by the Shaikh are these:—

“Thy mole lurks near the corner of thine eyebrow to
deceive,
“Wherever a recluse, lurking in a corner, is to be found,
deceit is in him.”
“Break not my heart, Oh grief! and regard not whose that
heart may be,
“The heart is indeed mine, but consider who dwelleth
there.”
“If thou sayest to him, “It behoves that Thy foot pass
over my head,”
“(Remember that) thou shouldst at once forsake all thought
of self.”

This enigma on the name of Shaidā is also by the Shaikh:—

“My moon hath cast the veil from off her face,
“See, how she hath of set purpose turned day into night!”

At the time when he obtained permission to depart from Lāhor to his dearly loved native land, he wrote to me from the far side of the river Rāvī a letter, which I copy here as a fortunate relic.

“My helper and my mighty one! After laying before you the prayers and supplications of true friendship, I represent to your mind, brilliant as the sun, that the cause of your neglecting to observe, in respect of your sincere and true friend, one most excellent institution was probably the fact that, though the approved custom of travelling with a friend for a part of his journey is one of the requirements of the observance of setting ¹⁴⁴ him on his way, you were not able at the present time to perform this office and therefore could not help but leave it undone. I hope, however, that you will not entirely efface the memory of me from the margin of your bounteous heart, and that you will adopt the graceful habit of remembering the absent. If you should have any need of Kashmīr paper for rough notes and drafts I hope that you will inform me of the fact, so that I may send you from Kashmīr the rough copy of my commentaries, the writing of which can be washed from the paper with water so completely that no trace of the ink will remain, as you yourself have seen. And now peace be with you and grace be upon you.”

When he reached Kashmīr he sent me from there another letter, which was the last he wrote. I copy it here.

“In the presence of the bounteous Shaikh ‘Abdu-l-Qādir, him who is removed beyond the need of praise, recommendation, or encomium, that is to say our lord and leader in learning, may this letter be opened.

Without a doubt Badāonī excels Dawwānī²⁰²
In all branches of learning,

Thus a proof of the superabundance of the signification of his
name,
Is that its very beginning appears to be redundant.

As to the suppliant letters which from time to time I send to you, although owing to their not being worthy of an answer I do not trouble your wonder-describing pen to write one, nevertheless the pen of sincere friendship cannot be restrained from running on in (its desire of) setting forth my submission to you. I hope that whenever you sit in the Nawwāb Faẓiī Fayyāẓī's²⁰³ apartment of fragrant grass,^203a on the floor with its matting cooler than the breezes of Kashmīr, in the midday heat of summer,^203b drinking the water which, though warm, has been cooled with ice, and listening to sublime talk and witty conversation, you will think on me, the captive of the hardships of disappointment.”

Couplet.

“Ah! ye who meet in the cheerful assembly of union extend
a helping hand to the absent,
“For the hand of those who thus meet is never withheld
from the absent.”

“I pray you to accept, on behalf of your most honoured, most ¹⁴⁵ orthodox, and most glorious son, Shaikh Muḥīyyu-d-dīn Muḥam-mad, my humble submission. May God, the most Holy and most High, assist him in the acquirement of all knowledge, both secular and spiritual, by the honour of him^203c who was named with the name of his sublime title (may his pure tomb be hallowed!).

It is probable that, owing to your claims as a neighbour to confidence, you may have heard what that resort of chiefship, Mīrān Sayyid Quṭbu-d-dīn, had to say with regard to his failure to answer my humble letter to him, but it behoves you rather to regard my essential claims upon you, for these claims are clearly to be preferred to the claim of mere neighbourhood; and likewise you should not place too much confidence in the display of affection which the worshipful Mīrān makes, for in the end it has no stability. God the most High knows the truth!

I have lost the rough copy of the verses which I wrote in the new Āṣafkhānī style, explaining what had not previously been clearly expressed. It is possible that you, my honoured friend, may have taken a copy from my rough draft, and, if so, I pray you to send me a copy of your copy. If you answer this letter it will be well. (I call to mind) God!”

Verses by the Author.²⁰⁴

“O thou, at the thought of whose face intimacy comes back
to me,
My desire cannot be borne on paper,
As the lofty mountain cannot be weighed in a balance,
And as the ocean cannot be measured by a water-gauge.

Why should I sing your praises? They are far beyond the pretensions of the bald style and the impotent rhetoric of me, ‘Abdu-l-Qādir; and any attempt to comprise them therein would resemble the endeavour to imprison the sea in a jug.”

Poetry.

“And what shall I say of my blessings on you?
No bird of devotion flies from me to the lote-tree of Paradise,
For no bird bears in his beak a list of my blessings on thee.
Why should I say anything of my desire of seeing you
again?

Quatrain.

O thou whose hand has been held in my two hands,
Who hast hindered me from the enjoyment of health,

It is impossible, that I should record my desire towards thee, ¹⁴⁶
The strong desire that I have towards thee.

Since the time when you saw fit to take your departure hence to the land where you now dwell, the interpreter of divine secrets, by which expression may be understood the root of the elements of true knowledge, gladdened me by coming to me repeatedly, both for a few days before and a few days after the festival of the new year, conveying to me the truth contained in the following couplet from the Ten Sayings of Good Tidings:—²⁰⁵

Couplet.

“This day a tall and comely man, in his own city,
Sits with his bride, rejoicing in his good fortune.”

You wrote with that pen which cherishes the poor and distils musk,

“Without a doubt Badāonī, excels Dawwānī,” etc.

I reply to those verses in the following maṯnavi:—

O thou whose tongue is the key of the Hidden Book,
Whose pure heart is an outcome of the Infallible,
Thy pen hath displayed miracles,
The hidden treasures of “Be, and it was.”^205a
Thou saidst, with a logic which nourishes the intelligence,
“Badāonī is more pleasant than Dawwānī.”^205b
Whether it be of Dawwānī or of Badāonī (that thou
speakest),
Both subjects receive all their wealth from the treasure-
house of thy grace.
My heart has become the mirror of thy beauty,
The place where thy never-failing bounty is displayed.
What wonder then if, in regarding it truly,
Thou shouldst see thyself there?

If these verses be mere ostentation then let this much suffice. Who am I that I should presume in answering you? I have had recourse to poetry, wherein I have loosed the tongue of deprecation, seeking forgiveness, and asking pardon for my remissness in observing the custom of writing friendly letters, a custom which is contrary to the habit and wont of the vulgar, nay, may rather be described as one of the peculiar characteristics of those who are raised above the common herd, as you yourself know well, and, regarding this letter as atonement for my fault, I count it full satisfaction of all that is past.

147 As for what you wrote regarding the air of the apartment of fragrant grass, and the iced water, it brought to my mind the following verse:—

And reminded me of the saying, “O company of Muslims, have pity upon him whose stock-in-trade has declined,” for it is some days since I have enjoyed that cool air and that iced water.

Verse.

“Let him who imagines that love is an easy matter come,
and look upon my face, and from its haggardness he
will understand that lovē is a hard matter.”

His Majesty, who is near the sun in excellence, has, for some reason, and without the intervention of any person whatsoever, taken the name of me, the humblest of his slaves, on his blessed tongue, expressing some intention of bestowing on me the trusteeship of (the shrine in) the exalted region of Ajmer.

Verse.

Those tents have vanished from the sight of me, the watcher,
Peace be on the dwellers therein, is the wish which I would
have conveyed.

Nevertheless I have not yet been installed in the office,²⁰⁷ and it is my earnest desire that the effects of this good fortune may soon emerge from the region of probabilities into that of accomplished facts. Then my heart will be independent of the water of the whirlpools of daily life and the unwholesome air of every country, and the coolness of pure truth will become my portion, so that the rubbish-heap of the world will appear to me to be no more than rubbish, and the iced water of the times a mere mirage. My wretched lot impels me to be chanting ever this mournful refrain:—

“Wonder of wonders that your heart is not disgusted, and
your soul is not sick
With the putrid odours which arise from these unwhole-
some waters.”

The ambition and object of me, your well-wisher, is that you will strive to help me in all matters, worldly and spiritual, so that when I go to Ajmīr^207a I may remember that the name of the place rhymes with Kashmīr inasmuch as each delightful place ¹⁴⁸ is the pivot of one of the two axes, or rather the two extremities, north and south, of the same axis, which extends in either direction. “A delectable city, and a forgiving God!”

Just as you, in Kashmīr, will be drinking the ice water^207b of the fount Jhālara,^207c so shall I be moistening my tongue with the limpid water of thanks and praise to the Giver of all good things, both spiritual and bodily.

Verse.

To the bounteous may their bounty be pleasant,
And to the poor lover that which he sips.

A counterpart of my present condition would be the revealing of that which has been disclosed to the inspired. Your ssrvant's son has gone to Badāon, where he is employed in putting up prayers for you. May your sublime shadow never grow less!

Written in the month of Ramaẓān the blessed, dispensing blessings, in the year H. 1003 (May-June, 1595).”

The following ode is one of the productions of the Shaikh's pearl-scattering and jewel-dispersing pen, which he wrote to me during one of his travels.

Ode.

“At the moment when I was writing this letter,
My tears were flowing, mingled with blood,
All the writing which was set forth by my pen,
The letter of my longing for you, has been blotted out from my
heart.
The bitterness of separation is medicine.
Ṣarfī, so great is the flood of my tears that the nine oceans to
me
Seem but as the dropping of rain.”

To be brief I may say that one so feeble and so devoid of the graces of speech as I has not the power to recount fully the excellent qualities and perfection of the noble Shaikh. The noble works which he has left behind him, and which have, as one may say, put a girdle round the day of resurrection, are a sufficient witness to what he was. On the 18th of Ẕī-qa‘dah, in the year H. 1003 (July 25, 1595) the bird of his soul, whose nest was holiness, escaping from the cage of this world of confinement, flew to that of liberation, and the words “He was the Shaikh of nations” were found to give the date of his death.²⁰⁸

Verse.

Peace be to the world, for pleasant are its blessings.
¹⁴⁸ As though Yūsuf were sitting in it.

Verses.

Seek not in this waste spot the road to the treasure-house of
your desire,

For this ruined abode is nought but the place of toil and
grief.
Fate has laid, at every step herein, a snare of calamity,
Who is there that has set his foot in this region of snares
who has not also left his head here?
The vanished heart of the rose has left behind it a word of
hope,
But what can that profit us who are unable to read?²⁰⁹
The days of man's life are exceeding short. Be not deceived
For no sooner have you drawn a breath than you give your
life to the wind.

He was an angel in the form of a man, who had acquired honour by performing the pilgrimage to the two holy places, (may God increase their honour!). During the regency of Bairam Khān, the Khān-i-Khānān, he dwelt in Āgra, where the people profited much by his precious utterances. Under the tuition of the Maulānā, who was one of the best men of his time. I studied a portion of the Shamsiyyah,^209a commentary on logic, the work of Amīr Sayyid Muḥammad, who was the most noble and most orthodox son and successor of the holy Amīr Sayyid ‘Alī of Hamadān, by the blessing of whose holy foot-steps, which were inseparably connected with the spiritual instruction of the people, the faith of Islām was first promulgated and preached in the land of Kashmīr. And besides this commentary on logic I read other brief works with the Maulānā. From his blessed tongue I heard the following saying of the prophet, which has the very highest authority. “The prophet (may God bless and assoil him!) said, ‘He who sees a stranger (with his wife) may slay him; his blood is lawful (to him),’” and from him also I received authority to propound and expound this tradition, he having received it through only six intermediaries from ¹⁵⁰ that holy one who was the seal of prophecy (on him and on his family be blessings without end!) The authenticity of the tradition of this saying is related in detail in the Najātu-r-Ra shīd.²¹⁰

The Maulānā, at the time of the Khān-i-Zamān's rebellion, came from Agra to Dihlī, further than which place I have not been able to trace him, so that I do not know the (latter) circumstances of his auspicious life.

He is the disciple, the spiritual successor, and also the son-inlaw of the Governor^210b of Bukhārā (may his honoured tomb be sanctified!). The venerable Governor was so learned in law and divinity that if we may suppose that all the books on the theology of the Ḥanafī^210c school had disappeared from the world, he would have been able to write them afresh. It was on his account that ‘Abdu-'llāh Khān,^210d the king of Tūrān, put a stop to the study of logic and dialectics in his dominions, and expelled Mullā ‘Iṣāmu-d-dīn of Isfārāin with his vile pupils from Transoxiana. The circumstances were as follows: After the study of logic and dialectics had gained ground in Bukhārā and Samarqand vile and wicked students, whenever they met a pious and simple-minded man, used to say, “This fellow is an ass, for he will deny the proposition that he is an animal,^210e and, since the rejection of a general proposition necessarily involves the rejection of particular propositions dependent on it, he necessarily denies also his humanity.” When fallacies of this nature were frequently repeated and spread abroad the Governor wrote a treatise on divinity, inciting and urging ‘Abdu-'llah Khān to banish this school, and adducing clear proofs of the unlawfulness of teaching and studying logic and philosophy. He also recorded his opinion that there was no harm in using as a torchecul paper on which logical exercises had been written, and wrote much more to the same purport.

The Qāẓī always performed the zikr-i-arra²¹¹ after his prayers with his companions, and used to enroll disciples.

In the year H. 969 (A.D. 1561-62) he came to Agra, and I, as a ¹⁵¹ means of attaining good fortune and blessing, read some lessons with him in the beginning of the Sharḥ-i-Wiqāyah, and in truth, so far as that subject was concerned I found him to be a boundless sea of learning.

He was the grandson of Mulla Kh'āja, one of the greatest of the Shaikhs of Khurāsān. Maulānā Mīr-i-Kalān was endowed with both inward and outward perfection and was a profound sage, being especially proficient in the traditions, in which respect he was the wonder of the age. He had authority from Sayyid Mīrak Shāh²¹² to teach this branch of knowledge. He was highly regarded by Maulānā Zainu-d-dīn Maḥmūd, the bowmaker ^212a (may his honoured tomb be sanctified!). He was preserved by God, the most Holy and most High, from all sins, mortal and venial, and was ever employed in teaching divinity, and passed his life with his eyes cast down in meditation. He was the disciple of Shaikh Jalāl of Hirāt, who was one of the most famous of great Shaikhs. Maulānā Mīr-i-Kalān acquired a disposition like that of Muḥammad (may God bless and assoil him!), and his angelic nature was a manifestation of the (ninety-nine) attributes of God. He attained the age of eighty years, and his mother, who was a Sayyidah, was living at the time of his death. He never married, for fear lest his wife should not subject herself to his mother, and thus he passed away in his mother's lifetime. At the time when the Maulavī passed away to the eternal abode his mother was engaged in reading the glorious Qur'ān, and when they conveyed to her the news of the death of so precious a son, and asked her permission to proceed with the last rites she recited the noble verse, “We are God's, and to Him do we return,” and continued her reading of the Qur'ān, without a sign of weeping or lamentation. The Maulānā ¹⁵² passed away to the Presence of God's mercy in Agra, in the year H. 981 (A.D. 1573-74), and was buried also in Agra, and a year later his mother too journeyed to the next world and obtained the felicity of rejoining her blessed son.

I was blessed and honoured by meeting with the Maulānā of angelic disposition, but I received no instruction from him.

He was the most learned of the sages of his time. Some of his learning he acquired from Mullā Aḥmad-i-Jand²¹³ and some from Mullā Maḥmūd-i-Surkh,^213a and he also studied for a while under Mullā ‘Iṣāmu-'d-dīn Ibrāhīm.^213b He came to India and entered the service of the emperor, who delighted much in his company. He possessed all the qualities of a true, religious man and was lowly-minded and of a most genial disposition. In from understanding, likewise, and quickness of perception no Mullā Turkistān who has appeared in this country has equalled him. He was an eloquent and charming speaker, and as a teacher was kind and gentle towards his pupils.

He passed away into the presence of the Lord's mercy in the year H. 970 (A.D. 1562-63) after his return from India to Kābul.

He was generally known as Ḥāfiẓ of Tāshkand,^213d and was a profound scholar, especially in Arabic. He studied under Maulānā ‘Iṣāmu-d-dīn⁶ and acquired proficiency in all branches of knowledge. He taught much, and all the learned men of Transoxiana concurred in acknowledging his superiority. He affected a military mode of life, and whenever he rode abroad had a quiver in his belt, after the manner of the Turks. He came to India in the year H. 977 (A.D. 1569-70) and was honoured by ¹⁵³ being admitted to the service of the Khalīfah of the age. After receiving many substantial marks of the imperial favour he set out, by way of Gujarāt, on a pilgrimage to the two holy places, Makkah and Madīnah, whence he proceeded to Turkey, where he was presented to the Sulṭān of Turkey, and in that country received ten times more honour and attention than he had received in India, so that even the office of grand vazīr of the empire was offered to him. This office he declined, and returned to Transoxiana, where he died. I never had the honour of paying my respects either to Ḥāfiẓ-i-Kūmakī or to Maulānā Sa‘īd.

He received the title of Qāẓī Khān, and was a native of Badakhshān, where his home was situated near a ruby-mine. In such branches of knowledge as are acquired by study he was the pupil of Maulānā ‘Iṣāmu-d-dīn Ibrāhīm, and also studied under Mullā Sa‘īd. He had a great taste for and proficiency in Ṣūfī-istic studies, and in these, the way of truth, he was the disciple of the greatest of leaders, Shaikh Ḥusain of Kh'ārazm. In consequence of his close adherence to the esoteric school he has also acquired much respect among men of the world, and in Badakh-sh ān was one of the nobles of the State. When he came to India he obtained unbounded honour, receiving first the title of Qāẓī Khān, and afterwards that of Ghāzī Khān. He was eloquent and his delivery was pleasing. He was the author of some standard works, among which was a treatise on the proof of the word (of God) and an account of the religion of truth and verity. He also wrote marginal notes on the commentary on the dogmas of the faith, and numerous treatises on Ṣūfi-ism. He passed away to the presence of God's mercy at the age of seventy in the year H. 992 (A.D. 1584) in Awadh. He was the first person to suggest the performance of the ceremony of prostration^214a before the emperor. Mullā ‘Ālim of Kābul used to say regretfully, “Alas, that I was not the inventor of this ordinance!”

He comes from a quarter in Lāhōr. He is well versed in all such branches of knowledge as are included in the ordinary curriculum, and is a profound scholar. He rules his life in accordance with the holy law, and is abstinent, and most pious and religious. He employs his time in teaching. He has never visited the houses of worldly and unpolished men, and has never asked assistance from the great ones of the earth, nor accepted the usual subsistence allowance made to religious teachers. He is nearly eighty years of age.

He is one of the most respected teachers of Lāhor. He is endowed with many perfect qualities and is employed as Muftī. On each occasion on which he completes the perusal of the Ṣaḥīḥu-l-Bukhārī^215a or the Mishkāt^215b he gives a great entertainment, regaling his guests with bughrā khānīs^215c and sweetmeats. His assembly is the meeting-place of the most learned men. The Maulānā, now that he has reached the age of ninety years, and is bent and feeble, has given up teaching. He has four or five orthodox sons, all of whom are in learning and accomplishments worthy successors of their father.

He was one of the Sayyids of Shīrāz and the most learned of the learned men of his time. He was for a long time the spiritual guide of the rulers and nobles of Fārs. He was thoroughly versed in all those sciences which demand the exercise of the reasoning faculty, such as philosophy, astronomy, geometry, astrology, geomancy, arithmetic, the preparation of talismans, incantations, and mechanics, and in this department of learning he was such an adept that he was able to draw up an astronomical table as soon as the emperor demanded one from him. He was equally learned in Arabic, traditions, interpretation of the Qur'ān and rhetoric, and was the author of some excellent works, which were not, however, equal to those of ¹⁵⁵ Maulānā Mīrzā Jān of Shīrāz, who was a teacher in Transoxiana, an abstemious recluse, and was unique among the learned men of the age. Mīr Fatḥu-'llah, although he was polite, courteous, and well-conducted in society, seemed to be unable, as soon as he began to teach, to address his pupils otherwise than with abuse, insinuation, and sarcasm (God save us from the like!). For this reason very few ever became his pupils, and he has not left behind him one worthy disciple. He was for some years in the Dakan, and ‘Ādil Khān,^216a the ruler of that country, had a great regard for him. When he entered the imperial service he received the title of ‘Aẓdu-l-Mulk.^216b He died in Kashmīr in the year H. 997 (A.D. 1588-89) and is buried in the place known as Takht-i-Sulaimān.^216c The words, “He was an angel,”^216d were found to give the date of his death.

He is one of the disciples of Shaikh Isḥāq i-Rākū,²¹⁷ and acquired most of his learning under Maulānā Sa‘du-'llah,^217a with whom he was connected by marriage. He is a learned and able man and is proficient in all such philosophical learning as is usually studied in India. He has a pleasant disposition and a sound understanding, which enables him reading to grasp a subject. He associates much with the nobles and chief men of the State and is resorted to by them. For some time he held the post of chief Qāẓī of Mālwa, and when the emperor set up his court at Lāhōr, he left Mālwa and paid his respects at Court. He is now employed in the administration of the pargana of Bajwāra^217b and the submontane districts. His son Mullā ‘Alā'u-d-dīn was one of the most famous of the learned men employed in teaching, and was for some time among the companions of the Khan-i-Khānān, by whom he was highly regarded and much honoured. When he entered the imperial service he also received much honour, and though much pressed and urged to enter the ¹⁵⁶ military service he declined to do so, and employed himself in teaching, spending whatever he received from his jāgīr on the students whom he taught. Of all the Mullās in India, after Pīr Muhammad Khān, there was nobody so famous as Mullā ‘Alā'u-'d-dīn and Mullā Nūr Muḥammad Tarkhān for generosity, liberality, and open-handedness. Mullā ‘Alā'u-d-dīn has written wellknown marginal notes on the Sharḥ ‘Aqā'id.^217c He attained to the honour of performing the pilgrimage of the Ḥajj and is buried in the holy land of pilgrimage. I never met him.

He was a Mullā of good understanding and great penetration, and gathered round him a cheerful company. Notwithstanding this he was hard-hearted man, and took no heed to do that which was lawful or avoid that which was unlawful. He came from Shīrvān and entered the service of the Khān-i-Khānān, Bairam Khān, in Qandahār, and received advancement. After the reconquest of Hindūstān he received the title of Khān, and afterwards that of Nāṣiru-l-Mulk, and lived for three or four years in the greatest honour and consideration, but since the days of the wicked are few, he was shortly afterwards drowned²¹⁸ in the river Narbada in Mālwa, and joined Pharaoh in the Nile of hell. His death has been recorded in the history of the reign. I saw him from afar, but, thank God, I never associated with him.

He was one of the disciples of Mullā Aḥmad-i-Jand.^218b He was an able Mullā, and quick and ready in controversy, but was not eloquent, and when engaged in teaching behaved grotesquely. His figure was ungainly. He spent his time in religious retirement. He came from Transoxiana to India, and taught for four ¹⁵⁷ years in the jāmi‘ masjid of Kh'āja Mu‘īnu-d-dīn-i-Farankhūdī^218c in Āgra. By the grace of God he was enabled to perform the pilgrimage to the two holy places, and in Makkah the glorious he departed this life, dying at the age of seventy.

He had a comprehensive knowledge of philosophy and rhetoric, and was a man of pleasant disposition and a poet. Towards the end of his life he repented of and gave up poetry. He was appointed to the trusteeship of the mausoleum of his late majesty, the emperor Humāyūn, and died in Dihlī.

He was an able Mullā, of a pleasant disposition, unaffected, a good conversationalist, a charming associate and a boon companion, ever ready with a pleasant jest. He attracted many to his society and delighted all who associated with him. He obtained an appointment in the military service of the empire which enabled him to live contentedly. He was much attached to me throughout his life. In the year H. 990 (A.D. 1582), when the victorious army was marching towards Aṭak on the river in the neighbourhood of Siyālkōṭ, he delivered up the life which had been entrusted to him,^219a and his corpse was taken to a village in the pargana of Amrōha, which he had beautified for himself, and was there buried.

This concludes the brief account of those Shaikhs and learned men of the age whom, for the most part, I have had an opportunity of meeting and waiting upon, and by whose illuminating regard I have been honoured; as for those of them whom I have not seen, be it as God will! Of all those of whom my pen has given an account, but very few remain here and there, like moles on the face of the age, in these days in which there is such a dearth of men worthy to be so called. Those who remain avoid and flee from the world and have been completely forgotten by those of feeble and defective nature, the vulgar, that is to say, who are no better than cattle. These learned men, counting as a ¹⁵⁸ loan the few moments of life which are left to them, await the arrival of the swift-footed messenger of death, and, having fully realized the dignity of old age, now hearken with the ears of the soul for the cry “Prepare to set out!” expectantly waiting to answer obediently to the shout.

Quatrain.

In the history of the world the lives of all, both small and
great,
Are written, and accounts of brave men and heroes,
Read, and on each page of it you will see “In such a year
Died such one, the son of such a one, the son of such a one.”

And other Shaikhs and learned men are and were scattered throughout all parts of India, throughout its length and breadth, in such numbers that the reckoning of them is left to the knowledge of the Knower of Secrets. Likewise the number of those who are famed and known for the natural wickedness of their dispositions and innate baseness, for their hypocrisy, vileness, worthlessness, crooked dealings and injustice is beyond computation, and there is no need for me to soil my pen by recording anything concerning this handful of rubbish, these base fellows, for I have a great task before me and but little hope of long life, and my condition resembles that of the ice merchant of Nīshāpur who was selling ice in the summer, and when the sun waxed hot cried out, “O, ye Muslims! Have pity upon him whose stock-in-trade is melting away on his hands!”

Couplet.

“Our life is as ice in the heat of summer,
But little of it remains and its owner is still deceived.”

And my recording the dates of the deaths of the men of whom I write resembles the case of that tailor who in a certain city had his shop by the gate of the graveyard, and hung an earthen pot from a nail in his door, his only care being to drop a stone in the pot for every funeral which came from the city. Every month ¹⁵⁹ he used to count the stones, saying, “They have carried away so many to burial.” Then he would empty the pot and hang it again on the nail, dropping stones into it as before till another month had passed. It so happened that the master tailor died and a man who had not heard of his death came to demand his services. He found the door of his shop shut and asked a neighbour whither the tailor had gone. The neighbour replied, “He too has gone into the pot.”

Couplet.

Regard well what happens to others,
For when it has passed by them it will be your lot also.
God be gracious! We have fallen into the mouth of a
dragon where we cannot even struggle or move, and
whence we cannot obtain freedom.
Devour thine own blood like the rosebud; mourn and open
not thy lips,
For the rosebud of this garden, the world, has no hope of
blossoming.
It points out to thee that some form, lofty as the cypress,
has crumbled away to dust.
On every spot which is shaded by the box-tree.
Since some rose from the pleasaunce is every moment borne
away on the wind
The solitary lily wears ever the blue raiment of mourning.

I would here request my respected and critical readers and acute appraisers not to be unduly carping and censorious as regards the lack of arrangement in this work, for the famous names of the members of the two classes which I have mentioned, who have been specially chosen out from among the people for honour, are mentioned in these few pages at haphazard like scattered pearls, and without regard to precedence or place. I would deprecate criticism on this score inasmuch as these historical selections have been written, as it were, by a broken-winged pen in a hasty flight, and I have had no leisure to arrange my composition in a commonplace book. My case much resembles that of the saddler who was constantly losing ¹⁶⁰ his needle and said, “If my time were not mostly wasted in looking for my needle I should be able to get through a good deal of work in the day, notwithstanding that the beggars as one man gather round me like the thong of a whip.” This is a wellknown saying. Although some of those whom I have mentioned may not perhaps be altogether as I would have them, for many a sincerely pious man wears the appearance of an atheist, yet if there be even one of them who is acceptable to the Lord, that one person will be sufficient for my salvation, to make intercession for me and to gain honour for me. Although all of them in general are entitled to be considered as, in some sort, saints, for “God is near to them who believe,” and are thus many degrees better than I, yet some of them have a special and manifest claim, which I fully admit, to be regarded as saints. It is for this reason that I have not included among these biographies those of the irreligious and lewd, taking as my rule of conduct the saying of the sage of Busṭām, which he spoke to one of his disciples by way of advice, saying, “If in these present times you see anybody who has faith in the sayings of the Shaikhs request his prayers both for me and for yourself, for the prayers of such a one will most certainly be answered.”

I know no way and I can find no help for myself,
Except the love of those whose faith is firm.

It so happened that when I reckoned up the number of those of this honoured class whom I have mentioned, most of whom are truly men of God, and generous and enlightened souls, I found that it came to a hundred and eleven, the number which is given by the word quṭb and also by the word alf (“one thousand”), which latter word was the date of the year²²³ in which I wrote this treatise which has given me so much pleasure.

Now that my heart is disgusted with those depraved wretches who have not scrupled unblushingly to cavil at and openly to revile the faith of Islām, convicting themselves of infidelity and shamelessness, and who are the cause of all the ruin which has ¹⁶¹ fallen upon both the state and the people of Islām, and are known as the strife of the latter days, I will proceed to an account of the physicians (of the court) although some of these, too, may be classed in the same category as the infidels just mentioned.

Some of the physicians in this reign were so learned in the theory and skilled in the practice of medicine that they performed miracles like those of Mūsā,²²⁴ and brought to mind the wonder-working breath of the Lord ‘Īsā,^224a while others, for the reason that the healing art is a noble subject of study, but a mean pursuit in its practical application, although they busied themselves in the study of medicine, sought political employment, according to their several degrees.

His name was Shamsu-d-dīn, and in medicine and the healing art he was the Galen of the age, and was endowed with the healing breath of the Messiah.^224c In other branches of traditional learning also he was distinguished far above all his fellows. I myself had no dealings with him, for when I first entered the imperial service and presented my preface to the Nāma-yi- Khirad-afzā²²⁵ to the emperor, the ḥakīm served me very ill, replying, when asked by the emperor what he thought of my writing, “His style is polished, but his book is ill to read.” Notwithstanding this the ḥakīm was, to do him justice, a sincere well-wisher and a practical helper of God's servants, firm and steadfast in the faith, and devoted to the interests of his friends. He was constantly engaged in teaching students, to whom, indeed, he was not only a tutor, but also a generous patron. So devoted was he to them that he never on any occasion willingly took his food apart from them, and on this account he was an infrequent guest at the houses of others. He was seated one day in the assembly of Shaikh Salīm-i-Cishtī, discoursing on theology and theologians and praising physicians and magnifying and extolling the importance and glory of the science of medicine, and the greatness of Shaikh Abū ‘Alī Sīnā.^225a This occurred at ¹⁶² the time when the ‘Ulamā and the physicians were at feud, and were daily wrangling, disputing, and quarrelling regarding the dignity of their respective orders. As I was unacquainted with these matters and had only recently come from the country and was ignorant of the real grounds of the controversy, I quoted the following verses of Shaikh Shihābu-d-dīn-i-Sahravardī^225b (may God sanctify his soul!).

Verses.

“How long did I say to this people, “Ye are superfluous?
One cure, the grave, is to be found in books of medicine.”
But when they sought satisfaction in threatening us,
We rested in God for the sufficiency of our recompense.
And they died in the faith of Aristotle,
While we live in the faith of God's chosen prophet.”

And I also quoted, in support of the position which I had taken up, those verses of the inspired lord Jāmī²²⁶ (may his tomb be sanctified!) which he has written in his Tuḥfatu-l-Aḥrār.

Couplet.

“Seek not enlightenment of the heart from the bosom of
Sīnā,^226a
Seek not for light from the eyes of the blind.”

This enraged the ḥakīm, and the Shaikh said: “The fire of strife was already blazing between these people. Now you have come and have blown it to a still fiercer blaze.”

When the arena of strife was closed to the ‘ulamā and shaikhs this physician disputed with the enemies of the faith whenever he could find an opportunity of doing so, as is briefly related in the account of that party.^226b At length Ḥakīmu-l-Mulk was no longer able to continue the unequal struggle and applied for leave to go to Makkah the glorious, and in the year H. 988 or 989 (A.D. 1580 or 1581)^226c he departed on the pilgrimage, and died in the land of the pilgrimage. Thanks be to God for his efforts.

To great learning and knowledge of medicine he united a taste ¹⁶³ for writing vilely scurrilous and satirical verse. His nom-deplume was Shujā‘ī.^226e As ill-luck would have it, whenever this physician undertook the cure of a sick man, the unfortunate patient surrendered his life to the messenger of death, for which reason the wits gave him the nickname of Saifu-l-Ḥukamā.²²⁷ He attended one of the grandsons of the venerable Shaikh Jāmī, Mūḥammad-i-Khabūshānī^227a by name, better known as Makhdūm-zāda ,^227b and helped him on his journey to the next world. The words “Saifu-l-Ḥukamā killed him”^227c were found to give the date of his death. These few lines which were written on the physician Jalāl may well be applied to Saifu-l-Mulūk.

Verses.

“Regarding the physician Jalāl the Angel of Death,
Last night made his complaint to God, saying,
‘Thy slave is helpless before the physician,
Where I kill one he kills a hundred.
Either depose him I pray Thee, from the position which
he holds,
Or assign to me some other employment.’”^227d

He was held in much honour in India for some years during the time of Bairam Khān, and afterwards, but according to his own statement he received neither patronage nor honour, and returned to his country disappointed. Thence he wrote and despatched a satirical poem, which for gracefulness and the laughable nature of its subject has been equalled by the poems of few writers of this age. To whet the taste of my readers I transcribe here a few couplets from that poem, which recall themselves spontaneously to my memory.

“A pious calf, untimely born, hailing from Barbary,
Whom I have sometimes called a cat, sometimes the mouse
of the saints,
A Brahman without caste-mark or thread, that is to say an
Indian Shaikh.

I should be no Musalman were I to call such a one a
Musalman.
Hold, Shafī‘u-'d-dīn Muḥammad, cease your eternal mum-
bling of words,
That mumbling which I have likened to the chewing of a
cud by a man.
Farīdūn,²²⁸ in my anger against you, your shameless face
¹⁶⁴ Have I likened to an anvil, not for its smoothness, but for
its hardness.”

Mīr Farīdūn replied with the following couplet:—

“Philosopher's tears are the boast of the ass of the angel of
Death,
Of him whom I have called the doorkeeper of the house of
misfortune.”

When Mīr Mu‘izzu-l-Mulk^228a left the army and entered upon a life of religious retirement at Dihlī Saifu-l-Mulūk wrote of him:

“The king of the ascetics, Mu‘izzu-l-Mulk, is displeased with
me.
Why, when have I, his slave, ever said that he repented of
his ascetic life?”

He was distinguished for his learning, and had a place among those who were admitted to the emperor's company.

He bore the nom-de-plume of Davā'ī,^229a and held a very high rank among the learned, besides being of a most noble disposition. He died in the city of Hāndiya, as has been related.^229b The following verses were written by him when I was escorting him to the gate of the garden of the late Kh'āja Niẓāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad in the suburbs of Lāhōr. He wrote them and gave them to me as a keepsake as he bade me farewell, just before he set out^229c from Lāhōr for the Dakan, on his mission to Rāja ‘Alī Khān of Burhānpūr.^229d That was the last time I saw him.

Verses.

“So full am I of love that the world will not contain me,
All places are full of my love, and no place will contain
me.
If I care for naught but love it is no wonder,
Regard it rather as an example of my chastity, for wine
does not content me.

165 Why do you ask me of that which I myself do not know.
Verily I am the mystery of unity, though even that
mystery cannot contain me.”

Other verses by ‘Ainu-l-Mulk.

“No desert place has been seen without a sign of some
habitation.
But against the incurable pain of love no plans avail.
I became the prey of one fair as a gazelle, but when I
looked intently
(I saw) that there was nothing in the game-straps but a
pure soul.”

He had been brought up by the physician Ṇajmu-d-dīn ‘Abdu-'llāh, the son of Sharafu-d-dīn Ḥasan. He had the disposition of a religious and also sound faith. He was exceedingly well skilled in medicine. He came to Hindūstān from the Dakan and was sent with Sulṭān Murād^230a to Gujarāt and the Dakan. In Mālwa death cut short the (silver) cord of his hope.

He was well skilled both in the theory and the practice of medicine and learned in all traditional learning. He had some acquaintance with the profane sciences, such as exorcism, etymology, and the formation of broken plurals. He is a cheerful soul and a good companion, whose very approach is a blessing. He put forth his best efforts in treating Shaikh Faiẓī in his last illness, but all to no avail. What indeed could he do in the face of the irresistible decree of fate, before which all are helpless and dumb. If medicine could prolong the life physicians should never die.

The ḥakīm sometimes wrote droll verses in Persian, an example of which is the following couplet which he wrote on Kh'āja ¹⁶⁶ Shamsu-d-dīn of Khawāf,²³¹ the Dīvān.

Couplet.

“What overbearing conduct is this of Kh‘āja Shamsu-d-
dīn's?
He intrudes, God forbid it,^231a upon the domain of medicine!”

One day, on seeing an oleander, which in Arabic is called diflā, in bloom, he uttered the following hemistich:—

When the emperor built a dais in the courtyard of the masjid at Lāhōr and issued an order to the effect that anybody who wished to do so might recite their prayers there in his presence, Ḥakīm-i-Miṣrī wrote the following verses:—

“Our king has founded a masjid
O ye faithful, good fortune may it bring!
It is good policy also in this masjid
To recite and reckon up our prayers.”

He was very simple-minded and unselfish, and for this reason acquired but little wealth. He produced, however, some practical treatises on medicine. He died in Burhānpūr in Khāndēsh and was buried in the neighbourhood of that city.^231b

He is sister's son to Ḥakīmn-l-Mulk and was the pupil of his uncle and of Shāh Fatḥu-'llah of Shīrāz, in medicine, and studied traditional learning under Shaikh ‘Abdu-n-Nabī. Notwithstanding his great learning in the holy law and in Sunnī theology, his malignancy in adhering to the Zaidī^232a sect and his obstinacy in the Shī‘ah heresy, in which matters he resembles the other physicians of the age, are as great as ever they were.^232b His excellence in acquired knowledge, and especially in the science of medicine, is extreme, and he is passionately devoted to the practice of the healing art, but as he is but a youth, self-opinionated ¹⁶⁷ and of limited experience, it sometimes happens that a patient, after taking one of his draughts speedily has a taste of the draught of extinction, and notwithstanding the fact that he was the pupil of Shāh Fatḥu-'llāh of Shīrāz, he ordered him, when he was in an ardent fever, a diet of thick pottage,^232c thereby handing him over to death, the executioner.

He obtained favour in the emperor's service to such a degree that he was admitted to his intimate companionship and acquired such influence over him as to render himself an object of envy to all who concerned themselves in the affairs of state. He was highly distinguished for his acumen and quickness of apprehension, and for his proficiency in all worldly accomplishments, prose and poetry. He was no less a byword for his infidelity and all other reprehensible qualities.^233a I heard, when the ḥakīm first arrived at Court, that he used to say, “The only things worth considering are Khusrav and these twelve couplets.” He always spoke of Anwarī as “Anwarīak the flatterer,” and likened him to Mīr Bādanjān, who was the buffoon of his time. Of Khāqānī he used to say, “If he were now living he would be much improved, for whenever he came to my house I would box his ears for him, to arouse him from his sleepiness, and when he went hence to Shaikh Abū-l-Faẓl's house he also would box his ears, and between us we should improve his poetry.

He was noted for his natural quickness of wit, but he had not learning in proportion, though he possessed excellent qualities and praiseworthy attributes.

He was the younger brother of Ḥakīm Abū-l-Fatḥ, and his disposition was better than his brother's. Although it was not naturally good, yet it cannot be said to have been naturally evil. Ḥakīm Ḥasan, Shaikh Faiẓī, Kamālā the Ṣadr, and Ḥakīm Humām^234b all died one after the other within the space of a month, and all the wealth which they had amassed disappeared in a moment, vanishing as completely as though it had been sunk in the Red Sea and the Arabian Sea, and to them nothing remained but the wind of vain regrets. But this indeed is and has been the common fate of all courtiers, both dead and living, namely, that, in spite of the treasures of Qārūn^234c and Shaddād^234d

which they are enabled to amass, they depart hence often without so much as a shroud, and bearing on their broken necks the affliction of their malignity, the load of eternal disappointment and everlasting ignominy—And this, too, is the saying of ‘Isā (on whom be peace!), which he spoke to the world, likening it in parable to an old woman, “Woe to thy living husbands, they believe not on the fate of thy husbands who are no more!”

“Surrender thy soul to the Beloved, else shall death
snatch it from thee!”
“Judge thou for thyself, my soul, which of the two is
the better.”

The ḥakīm died in Lāhōr, and his body was carried thence to the camping ground of Ḥasan Abdāl, and interred beside that of his brother.

He was a good theologian who was impelled by his own shameless assurance to pose as a physician. His learning was extensive, and he had travelled throughout Arabia and Persia. He was a cheerful soul, but somewhat disordered in mind, a prey to vain desires, and a pretender to honours to which he had no claim. I constantly admonished him, reminding him that he had no right to the rank of a Sayyid, and that groundless claims of this sort met with scant consideration in India. I told him if he had any regard^235a for the faith, to profess himself a true Musal- ¹⁶⁹ mān, for that in these latter days nothing remained of the true faith but its name. But my admonitions availed nothing, and he met with the just reward of his deeds. I saw him after he had received his death-wound from Mīrzā Fūlād,^235b and I swear by God, the God of whose Godhead there is no doubt, that the ḥakīm's face appeared to others, as well as to me, exactly like the head of a hog, and the words “the hellish hog”²³⁶ were found to give the date of his death. Shaikh Faiẓī found another chronogram in the words, “on the twenty-fifth of the month of Ṣafar.”^236a I found two chronograms for the event in the following couplet slightly altered from the Ḥadīqah,^236b which is applicable equally to the slayer and the slain.

Another person found a chronogram in the words, “Hail, dagger of Fūlād!”^236c

He was well known as a clever practitioner, and his learning was very great.

When a young man he was physician to Shāh Ṭahmāsb.^237b He came to India and was here highly regarded. He is a young man of great piety, and lives cleanly. When he attends the sick his very footstep seems to bring them good luck. Although he has not much learning, his practical experience is very great.

He has read very many works on medicine, and his knowledge of astronomy also is great. He has written a Persian commentary on the Qānūn. He has now gone to Kābul to treat Qilīj Khān.

He is the son of Shaikh Ḥasan, the quack doctor of Sirhind. His skill in surgery is great, and in the treatment of elephants he ¹⁷⁰ is one of the wonders of the age. Latterly, he has become the prey of mischievous hallucinations.

There are also among the physicians others, obscure Musal-mans ²³⁸ and accursed Hindūs,^238a from writing of whom my heart revolts.

A full account of the poets of the reign of the Emperor Akbar is given in the Nafā'isu-l-Ma'āṯir, well known as the Taẕkirāh of Mīr ‘Alā'u-d-daulah,²³⁹ which is the source from which the materials for this brief account are extracted. Some of these poets have composed dīvāns. I have written of those with whom I was acquainted, whom I have even seen, whether near or from afar, or who have acquired fame.

When his life was attempted in ‘Irāq on account of his infidelity and intemperance, he fled thence to the Dakan, and afterwards came to Hindūstān. The Khān-i-Zamān sent him one thousand rupees for his expenses, and wrote from Jaunpūr a witty epigram’ which contained an enigma in the poet's name.

“O Ghazālī, I adjure thee by the claims of the lord of Najaf^239b
That thou come to the slaves of the peerless one!^239c
Since thou art without honour in that country^239d
Take thy head,^239e and come out of it.”

He was for some time with the Khān-i-Zamān and afterwards²⁴⁰ entered the emperor's service and received the title of Maliku-sh-Shu‘arā.^240a He compiled several dīvāns and a book of maṯnavīs. It is said that he has written no fewer than forty or fifty thousand couplets.^240b Although his compositions do not rank very high, yet his poems, as regards both quality and quantity, are superior to those of any of his contemporaries. He had great facility of expression in the language of the mystics. He died very suddenly in Aḥmadābād on Friday, Rajab 27, A.H. 980 (Dec. 3, A.D. 1572),^{240c 171} and his majesty ordered that he should be buried in Sarkhej,^240d the resting-place of many of the great saints and famous kings of old. Qāsim Arsalān^240e wrote this chronogram for the date of his death, taking it down from the dictation of Qāsim Kāhī.^240f

“Last night Ghazālī, that accursed dog,
Went drunk and defiled to hell.
Kāhī wrote the date of his death
‘A base infidel departed from this world.’”^240g

Another chronogram—

“Ghuzālī was a treasure-house of hidden meaning,
His resting-place is the pure earth of Sarkhej.
The date of his death, with the difference of one year only,
Is given by the words, ‘Aḥmadābād and the dust of
Sarkhej.’”²⁴¹

The following is the opening couplet of an ode which I have not been able to discover in any dīvān written by him:—

“We heard a noise and opened our eyes from the sleep of
nothingness.
We saw that the night of strife had not passed away, and fell
asleep again.”^241a

Couplets by Ghazālī.

“If in the Ka‘bah thy heart wanders towards any, besides
(the Lord of the Ka‘bah).
The worship is all wickedness, and the Ka‘bāh is to thee no
more than an idol-temple.
But if thy heart is fixed on God, even though thou dwell in
the wineshop,
Drink wine fearlessly, thine end can be nought but good.”

“We fear not death, but this is our misfortune
That we must remain disappointed of regarding the lovely
ones of this world.”

“Those who are at rest in the dust were all slain by thy
sword.
The sword of Death has had no opportunity here.” ¹⁷²

“We are within the compass of a revolving lantern;²⁴² a whole
world remains in astonishment therein,
Man whirls madly therein like the figures on the lantern.”

“The zealot's cloak is stretched over his bent form like the
string on a bow,
But the debauchees fear not the arrows of his prayers.”

A Quatrain.

“My mind is an ocean which contains a gem,
My tongue is a sword which has an edge,
The clarion of my pen has the sound of the last trump,
I am the bird of the angels, my words are winged.”

He has introduced into one qaṣīdah all the numerals from one to a hundred. This is its opening couplet—

“By one word from thy two ruby lips Masīḥ^242a obtained three
favours;
Eternal life, and graceful speech, and power to give life.”
“We are wine, and round our necks is the collar of the wine-
jar,
We have a power of intoxication in which the whole world
is lost.”

He was Miyān Kāhi of Kābul. Although his verses are crude ¹⁷³ and his ideas all stolen from others, yet they are written in a connected style, and in this respect Kāhī had no equal. He was well versed in astronomy, rhetoric, and the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs, and wrote a treatise on music. In short, he had no equal in his time in knowledge of the mysticism of the Ṣūfīs, the art of composing enigmas, history, elocution, and various other arts. Although he had had the advantages of associating with the shaikhs of former days, among them that lord of his age Maulavī Jāmī, (may his tomb be hallowed!) and others, yet all his life was spent in heresy and infidelity. But notwithstanding these ill qualities his liberality, generosity, open-handedness and bounty were extreme, and he was always surrounded by a crowd of qalandars, lewd fellows, and courtezans, and associated unrestrainedly with dogs. It would seem that such conduct is the invariable attribute of one bearing the title of Maliku-sh-Shu‘arā,²⁴³ as has been said in the verses—

“Hearken to this advice from Saifī,
That it may suffice thee all thy life,
On good poetry and a handsome boy,
Pin thy faith, no matter whose they be.”

I have no concern with his religion, but I reproduce the following selections from his verses:—

Couplets.

“Like thy shadow we are with thee, whithersoever thou
goest,
It may be that in time thou wilt shew us some kindness.
O ancient of love, seek the company of one with Yūsuf's
cheeks.
Small wonder were it if so thou becamest young like
Zulaikhā.
Kāhī, thou art the nightingale which adorns the pleasaunce
of Kābul,
No crow or kite art thou that thou shouldst come to Hindū-
stān.”
¹⁷⁴ “Grief for thine absence has reduced my body to the likeness
of a spider's web,
It is for this reason that the corner of a ruin is my dwell-
ing.”

He set the two odes of which the opening couplets are given below to sweet music, so that they have become known throughout the world and are sung in all assemblies, enlivening alike the banquets of kings and the gatherings of mystics.

Opening Couplet of the First Ode.

“The bird which began to flap his wings on the forehead of
Majnūn
Inflamed in his brain the fire of his grief for Lailā.”

Opening Couplet of the Second Ode.

“When the mirror is filled with roses, the reflection of the
loved one's face,
The parrot who looks therein becomes a nightingale.”

The following is an enigma²⁴⁴ on the name of God:—

“Nobody has full knowledge of His essence,
From eternity without beginning has He been, He is limit-
less.”

And the following is another enigma on the name of the prophet:—

“Since I journeyed along the road of the holy law,
My path has been divided from that of Muḥammad the pro-
phet.”

He was the author of a well-known dīvān and has also written a maṯnarī which he has entitled Gul Afshān, a reply²⁴⁵ to the Būstān of Sa‘dī, corresponding with it rhyme for rhyme. Its opening couplet is—

“To the world's Creator be praises from the soul,
To the soul's Creator a hundred worlds of praise.”^245a

The following is another couplet by him—

“My cruel darling has killed thousands with her coquetries,
My spoilt darling still continues her coquetries.”

“The rain of misfortune has broken on my grief-stricken body,
What misfortune is there that the heavens have not rained
on my head?”

“No narcissus blooms in the place of my pilgrimage,
My eyes are whitened with watching for thee.”

The following couplet was written by him on a Hindū youth, a Jōgī:—

“Thy flame-coloured face shines above the ashes on thy body²⁴⁶
like the lotus,
Or it may be that thy head-cloth has been reduced to ashes
by thy resplendent face.”

175 But the idea developed in this couplet very much resembles that which is the motive of the following couplet by Mullā Vaṣfī^246a of Kābul:—

“It is not the burning fever of separation from thee which
has induced me to choose the dust for a bed,
Rather is it that my bed has been burnt to ashes by the
ardent fever which possesses me, sick with my longing for
thee.”

When Mullā Qāsim was told that most of his poetical ideas were stolen from others, he used to reply, “I have never asked you to believe that my poems were wholly my own. If they please you not, take a pen-knife, and erase them from the copies of my divān.” He has an excellent qaṣīdah on the astrolabe, which runs on into an encomium on the late emperor, Humāyūn. His copiousness of diction is well exemplified therein. When Kh'āja Mu‘aẓẓam Khān,^246b notwithstanding his lameness, came to visit Mullā Qāsim-i-Kāhī in his sickness, the Mullā composed the following extempore ode on the event, setting it to music at the same time:—

“Thou did'st halt in affected disdain one pace from the face
of my longing,
May thy foot never pain thee more, my graceful cypress!
Howmuchsoever I recounted, in the night of separation, the
joys of thy presence,
The tale of my long-drawn-out grief was not lessened.”

One day the Mullā was walking in the emperor's garden, on the far side of the Jamna, when the poet Ṣubūḥī^246c met him, and as soon as he saw him said, “Sir, have you heard that a man who accepted Islām late in life²⁴⁷ has died in ‘Irāq?” The Mullā replied, “May you be spared!”^247a

When the imperial army marched to Gujarāt Mullā Ghazālī accompanied it in the early stages of the journey. It so happened that a falso report of the death of Mullā Qāsim-i-Kāhī was spread abroad, and when Ghazālī heard it, he composed the following chronogram, which is, although far-fetched, and based on a false rumour, not without elegance.

“The wretched Kāhī left the world.
Should you wish to know the date of his death,
Know that since he could not help but go he was constrained, ¹⁷⁶
And ‘Qāsim-i-Kāhī went from the world.’”^247b

But before this lying tale became a fact Mullā Qāsim-i-Kāhī was enabled to take his revenge by composing a chronogram on the death of Ghazālī, and a second one also, as full retribution. These have already been cited.^247c But,

“What can a liar tell, but a lie?”
Although the following couplet is true,
“I have seen poets, within my experience,
Without followers, without offspring, and without any snc-
cessful issue of their labours,”

and all the poets of the present age together, both small and great, are, with the exception of three or four aged men, adherents of the Jauratī and Ḥaidarī^247d sects, yet these two whom I have just mentioned were the guides and leaders of all the rest, and left the heritage of their baseness to their followers and dependants, dividing it among them in due proportion to the natural fitness and ability of each one to avail himself of it, and with due regard to the claims which each had acquired by former companionship with them.

When I regard this vile gang I am oppressed by the fear that the poets of old²⁴⁸ (may God protect us from them!) may perhaps have resembled them. God forbid that it should have been so! Yet the experience of ages tells us that worldly people in each particular period follow closely in one another's footsteps and that there are no radical differences of disposition among them.

He was one of the sons of that saint of the Lord and traveller in the path of the Eternal God, Shaikh Ruknu-d-dīn ‘Alā'u-d-daulah of Samanān (may God sanctify his tomb!). In those branches of knowledge which exercise the reasoning faculty, he was the pupil of Maulānā ‘Iṣāmu-d-dīn and Mullā Ḥanafī, and in the study of the holy law he was the disciple of the last and best of the sages and traditionists Shaikhu-bnu-Ḥajar-i-Ṯānī (may God have mercy on him!). His facility in verse, his elegance in literary style, his rhetorical flourishes, his fine delivery, ¹⁷⁷ his polish and copiousness of diction, and his wit, were unrivalled. He composed a dīvān, and his poetry, though not in the first rank, is of respectable quality. The following couplets are by him:—

“O, thou in whose absence the tears drop from my eye-
lashes,
While the thought of sleep²⁴⁹ is banished from my eyes!
Thou didst display thyself to me in such wise as thou wert
not,
Alas! that thou wert not such as thou didst seem.”

It seems likely that this couplet is an imitation of the following quatrain:—

“We say that maybe we are of the faithful,—but we are
not.
And that we are of the truthful and sincere,—but we are
not,
We are adorned outwardly, but inwardly we are otherwise,
Alas! that we are not what we seem to be!”

The following couplets are also by Marvī:—

“With me thy brow is wrinkled like the rosebud,
With others thy lips open in smiles, like the pistachio.”

“I wish that the love which I bear to thee,
Should be known to me, and to thee, and to God.”

The following couplets in praise of Muḥammad are from the translation of the Singhāsan Batīsī,^249a of which His Majesty ordered this poet to make a translation, which was never completed:—

“The sweet-voiced nightingale of the garden of revelation²⁵⁰
Whose eyes were anointed with the antimony of us base
crows,
Who in his unquestionable abrogation of the Psalms of
David,
Has drawn his pen through the copies of the Pentatench
and the Gospels,
To his high court is prophecy entrusted,
To him, the chief of the prophets and the seal of apostle-
ship.”

A Quatrain.

“I am he whose kingdom is the realm of words,
¹⁷⁸ The money-changer of wisdom is the appraiser of my
threaded gems.
The exordium “Be!” is but one leaf of my writings;
The secrets of the two worlds are on the tip of my pen.”

In the year H. 979 (A.D. 1571-72) he obtained permission to depart from Hindūstān and to go to his native land, and Shaikh Faiẓī, who was his pupil, found the date of his departure in the words “may his shadow be extended!”^250a He went to Kābul and was received with consideration and honour by Mīrzā Muḥam-mad Ḥakīm, but when he presented his pīshkash^250b of merchandise, goods, valuables, and precious articles from India, he rose from his place and took the list of his presents from the hands of the registrar of complimentary presents and detailed and explained the quantity, quality and name of each description of cloth, even going so far as to give the price of each. The Mīrzā was much displeased at this breach of decorum, and, rising from an assembly with which he was disgusted, ordered that all who pleased should fall on the spoil and carry off what they could, so that in the space of an hour everything disappeared. The Kh'āja shortly after this died in Kābul.

He wrote poetry under the nom-de-plume of Arsalān on account of his father's claim to descent from Arsalān-i-Jāẕib, one of the great nobles of the court of Sulṭān Maḥmūd-i-Ghaznavī. His native place was Ṭūs^251a and he grew to manhood in Transoxiana. He was a poet sweet of song, welcome to all, both great and small, for his personal beauty and graceful wit, adorned with the ornament of an open and cheerful disposition and with the quality of sociability and social amiability. In the composing of chronograms he had no equal. He was the author of a divān, and the following few couplets are of his making:—

“I wish to raise my head, at the resurrection, from a spot of
earth
On which the foot of a fair one shall be lingering in grace- ¹⁷⁹
ful coquetry.”

“O, thou who hardly givest up but half thy life, what place
hast thou
Where lives are freely given by the hundred for one glance
from the beloved?”

I remember something very like this latter couplet in an ode of the author of which I cannot quite recall the name. It is as follows:—

“What though I be alone with thee in lovers' meeting?
Thy modesty repels me more than a thousand watchers.”

Another couplet by Qāsim-i-Arsalān—

“Both letter and spirit of my reading mourn my lot,
Without thee how can I keep my regard intent on my book?”

“As we passed weeping to the loved one's dwelling,
A hundred times in each step we crossed a river of tears.”

He has written the following verse descriptive of the mountain of Ajmīr, the holy burial place of the Kh'āja, the pole-star of pole-stars, Kh'āja Mu‘īnu-d-din-i-Ajmīri-yi-Cishtī (may his tomb be hallowed!):—

“Lo! The mountain of Ajmīr, a mountain of ambergris,
The lodging of the chief of the leaders of Cisht.
What hill is this, that when it raises its head to the empy-
rean,
Has the ocean of the sky no higher than its midst?
The bodies of the sun and moon appear
From that hill no larger than the eagle's eye.²⁵²
Fountains there are therein, like to the sun in brilliancy,
Their sand^252a is the starry host of heaven,
Heaven's eagle^252b winged his flight,
To seek its summit, but his flight fell short.
Should but a stone be loosened from that fort,
It would in its downward course loosen the strongholds of
heaven from their foundations.
That darting brilliance which issues from the clouds is not
lightning,
It is nought but the sword-like summit of that mountain
striking the sky.

Glancing from that mountain foot the beholder sees ¹⁸⁰
The sky as a clear pool, and the moon as the fish's²⁵³ eye.
The torrents which rush down from that awful stronghold
would carry away a thousand hills such as Alwand and
Alburz.^253a
When the eagle rises from the vase of the fortress' walls,
His shadow falls on the moon and sun.
Arsalān. behold the loftiness of its mere foundations!
The sun seeks protection beneath their shadow.”

The Mulla in the year in which the emperor returned from Ātak took up his dwelling in Lahōr. He died in the year H. 995 (A.D. 1587).

I should state here that the three or four poets whose biographies I have already given have been mentioned first on account of the fame which they acquired as poets only, and of the ill-luck which they brought with them to the world, as they occurred in my mind, and in no particular order. Henceforward for ready reference and for the sake of method I shall mention the poets in the alphabetical order of their poetical cognomina.

He came to Hindūstān with the Emperor Bābar, and was at first a vāqi‘ah-navīs.^253c Subsequently, in the service of his late Majesty also he held several high posts, and died in Lāhōr in the year H. 973 (A.D. 1565-66). Some of his verses are the following:—

“In thine absence my tears by degrees became a sea,
behold!
Come, sit in my eye as in a boat and make a voyage of the
sea!”

“Aye, have a dagger at thy waist, a sword in thy hand, a
frown on thy brow,
Thirst for blood and be cruel and still implacable.”

181 “What can one do with one who knows nought of those who
are faithful?
What can one do with one whose body shines as silver and
who still inclines to wrath?”

“The crescent moon shines in the gloaming on the eve of
‘Id,²⁵⁴
Setting us free to haste to seek a cup of rosy wine.”

At the time when his late Majesty recovered from his indisposition in the Fort of Victory, this poet composed the following quatrain:—

“A thousand thanks to God, that His Majesty the Emperor is
freed from the sorrow of sickness,
That he has arisen and seated himself once more on the
throne of his glory.
The news of his recovery was conveyed to me by the words,
‘Thanks be to God that His Majesty has recovered.’”

He was a Ḥusainī Sayyid of the holy city of Mashhad. He was well qualified to instruct the best calligraphists of the world in the seven different styles of penmanship. He was one of the most trusted among the nobles, and it is a pity that he should have merited the name of poet, but since he had natural poetical ability, the following verses of his are quoted:—

“Before I have received a single cup from the hand of the
cup-bearer of fate,
The stone of reproach strikes my wine-jar. What can I
do?”

“We are those in this world whose hearts are sad,
A heart as sad as our own, we know not of.”

A Quatrain.

“O, Lord! consume me not in the fire of Thy wrath! ¹⁸²
But light the lamp of faith within the house of my heart;
And as for this robe of life which hangs torn on my body,
Of Thy mercy stitch it again with the thread of forgive-
ness.”

Another Quatrain.

“Free from the alloy and like fine gold came love from the
assay,
Well were it to spend the cash of our lives in the business
of love.
Since the expanse of thy beauty blossomed like the rose,
The thorns of love have pierced my breast as that of the
nightingale is pierced.”

He possessed both learning and accomplishments. For some years he studied under Hakīmu-l-Mulk, and was the best of all his pupils. He was one of the most entertaining men of his time. As the climate of India did not suit him, and as he obtained no real promotion in the imperial service, in spite of his having been admitted to the circle of His Majesty's intimates, he went at length to his own country, and in the city of Rai, the native place of his ancestors, he obtained rest from the toils of the world and departed this life. The following verses are quoted as an indication of the copiousness of his imagination:—

“The jealous watcher himself has been our intermediary,
while I suspected no fraud,
He has been enabled to interpose between us his own condi-
tions.”

“'Twas but yesterday that my loved one derided my piteous
lot,
My grief and her derision were plain to see.”

“To-day has my heart's anguish grown more acute,
¹⁸³ For to-day it seems that my loved one is more than ever
bent on my destruction.”

“I am wounded to the heart by the arrow of a fair boy to
whose hands time
Has not yet delivered a bow to sport withal.”

“The hope of union with thee forbade me to surrender my
life,
Else I would gladly have died when I parted from thee.”

“I lament the presence of others when that silver-bodied
one draws nigh,
It would seem that my tongue breaks into speech from
constancy to her.”

“The zest of union with her never leaves my heart,
For she spoke with me in graceful coquetry and looked for
my coming.”

He was a Sayyid of Kābul. In the year H. 981 (A.D. 1573-74) he fell from his horse in Jaunpūr, and died of the injuries which he received. He wrote a dīvān, and the following chronogram which he composed on the death of a graceful boy of rare beauty, named Sulṭān Caghatāī, is well known.

“Sulṭān Caghatā was the rose of the garden of beauty,
But death was his guide to the garden of Riẓwān.^257a
In the season of roses he set forth to journey from this
garden,
Many hearts in mourning for him were drenched with their
blood.
I asked of the mourning nightingale the date of his death,
He broke into lamentations and said, “The rose has left the
garden!”^257b

“How shall I compare thy stature to the letter alif, O palm- ¹⁸⁴
tree of life?
For alif is quiescent^257c while thy graceful form is ever in
motion.”

“My heart in thinking on that sweet mouth is in the straits
of perturbation,
Perturbation has confronted it from the place in which it is
bred.”

“Never do I forget thee, possessor of all sweet attributes.
Though thou forget me, yet do I never forget thee.”

A Quatrain.

“For the proof of His existence what need is there of words,
Since He is all in all, both of what is manifest and what is
hidden?
They tell me to open my mouth in denial of all that is apart
from Him;
But what shall I deny? Where is there a trace of ought
that is apart from Him?”²⁵⁸

Another Quatrain.

“The juggler who sits on the prayer-mat of the blue expanse
of sky
Shines in the morning with the mark of piety on his face,
At midday he straightens himself up in prayer,
And when he, the leader of the prayers, made his inclina-
tion, the rest prostrated themselves.”^258a

He wrote charming verses. He spent twenty years of his life in India, living in religious retirement. The following verses are from his pen:—

“The flood of my tears rushed towards her dwelling,
To wash the dust of strangers' feet from her threshold.”

The water of life is but a type of thy ruby lips,
Where is a Khiẕr²⁵⁹ to give his life in keen desire for them?” ¹⁸⁵

“Like Amānī, in the desire of losing my head by a stroke of
thy sword
I have entered the ranks of the army (of thy lovers) with
nought but my life for my shield.”

“It is not the presence of the stranger in thine assemblies to
which I object,
But thy friendly glances for the stranger which I cannot
endure.”

He was a son of Imām Najmu-d-dīn ‘Abdu-l-Ghaffār, who was the author of a compendium of the Shāfi‘ī^259b doctrines. In learning, in elegance of literary style, in knowledge of history, and in geniality of disposition he was unrivalled. He wrote the Nigā-ristān .^259c a compendium the like of which has not been produced by the wit of anybody in this age, and wherein are related wondrous circumstances and strange occurrences. He also wrote the book Naskh-i-Jahān-Arā,^259d the date of the composition of which is given by the title. It is a cursory history of the world from the time of Adam to the days of his holiness the seal of prophecy (may God bless and save him!). The Qāẓī towards the end of his life gave up the office of vazīr, which he held under the princes of ‘Irāq, and after his resignation proceeded on a pilgrimage to the holy place (Makkah). After attaining the felicity of performing this pilgrimage he came to Hindūstān by way of the port of Dābul,²⁶⁰ when the hand of fate, suddenly loosing the cord of the existence of that incomparable man, led him to the world of immortality. This occurred in the year H. 975 (A.D. 1567-68).

The following couplet is by him:—

“If that fair tyrant sit by me, after a lifetime of expectancy,
¹⁸⁶ My heart will flutter in my breast, lest she should rise too
soon.”

In his poetry he displayed a pleasing fertility of imagination, and he was an imitator of Āṣafī. In Āgra he placed the baggage for his journey to the next world on the back of Death's swift steed. I append some of his verses.

“He whose bosom is rent with grief in thine absence beat his
head with a stone so violently
That the stone became nought but a handful of dust in his
grasp.”

“In grief at thine absence I will smite my head, wretched
being that I am, with a stone.
Should my hand fail of its office I will strike my head upon
the stone.”
“I, thy candle, O my King, am a slave like Nuṣair,
Though decapitated a hundred times I yet live.”
“Those slain by thy cruelty lie scattered here and there like
drunken men,
It would seem that thy sword was tempered with wine in-
stead of water.”

“So much has my body melted away in grief at thine absence,
That if thou castest a chain on my neck it falls about my
fect.”

It is said that when he recited this last opening couplet before Maulānā Ṣādiq in Qandahār, and sought his approbation, the Manlānā said, “You have stolen this idea from Amīr Khusrav of Dihlī, who says—

‘So much has my mournful body melted in thine absence
That if thou placest a collar about my neck it falls to my
feet.’”

Another Couplet by Ashkī.

“If I would fall in following thee smitten with the stone
of calamity,
Stones rain upon me from every hair on my head prevent- ¹⁸⁷
ing me from falling.”

Ashkī seems to have used the metaphor of the stone so much as to leave nothing else for others to say upon the subject.

“See my feeble body among the dogs of thy street,
This one drags it one way, that one another.”

“My hair hangs dishevelled from my head down to my feet,
My body appears in the midst of it like a single white hair.”

He is a Shāmlū Turkmān in the service of the Khān-i-Khānān. He writes pleasing poetry and has composed a maṯnavī. The following verses are his work:—

“My heart is a fire-temple when I think of thee, and on it
Is thy brand, like a black Hindū who tends the fire.”
“When you see a tongue of flame deem it to be a tormented
fire-worshipper
Whose soul has departed, while his body still dances in the
fire-temple.”
“Love is like the loadstone, for when its arrow enters the
[heart,
It cannot be removed till love itself in kindness draws it
forth.”

He is a young man in the flower of manhood. He was for a long time in Gujarāt with Kh‘āja Niẓāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad, and at first assumed the nom de plume of Khanfī, which the Kh‘ājā changed, giving him his present takhalluṣ. He is now in the service of His Majesty's eldest son. His disposition is pleasing. The following quatrain is his:—

“I am one who can treasure up nought but grief;
Though I am all jealousy I cannot renounce the loved one,

Although through my enlightenment of soul I am as
conspicuous as the sun,
Still I know not how to light the lamp of my own lot.”

His assumed name accords well with his nature.²⁶³ He has committed to memory, parrot-like, some phrases from the Futūḥāt and the Fuṣūṣu-l-Ḥikam,^263a and has striven hard, in a polemical treatise, to establish the good faith of Pharaoh,^263b for which reason he has been nicknamed “Pharaoh's Advocate.” The following is the opening couplet of a qaṣīdah by him:—

“Thou saidest, ‘Shall I deal with my lovers faithfully or
cruelly?’
O, impudent one, know that we choose the former!”

He is of the Jān Qurbānī tribe.^263d He is accomplished in learning and the sciences, and is one of the commanders of five thousand. His faith is orthodox. For some time he held the title of Jumlatu-l-Mulk,²⁶⁴ and is now Governor of the Ṣūba of Kābul. He has poetical genius and facility in writing verse. The following few couplets are by him:—

“No sooner had my sun cast the veil from off her face
Than the sun appeared no more than a mote in a sunbeam
in motion.
I am slain by that languid narcissus-like eye, which, in its
heaviness,
Has slain a whole world and composed itself to sleep.”

“Thy two dark languid eyes^264a play havoc with my wit and
my faith,
¹⁸⁹ With drawn bows they lie in wait for me in every corner.”

“It is not the rosebud-like arrow of my slayer that rankles
in my heart,
But my own blood which, while apart from her lips, I have
swallowed, that is clotted in my heart.”

He was well skilled in the exact sciences. He was a companion of the Khān-i-Zamān, and was captured in his rebellion.^264b The emperor spared his life, but death, less merciful, took it from him. The following opening couplets of qaṣīdahs are his:—

“Until like dust I settled on the skirts of the robe of my
beloved,
I had no rest from my wanderings nor ease at my heart.”

“We are but a handful of ashes, but we carry fire in us,
It would be no wonder if we were consumed by the sparks
of our own sighs.”

The Khān-i-Zamān gave him a thousand rupees as a reward for composing this latter couplet.

He was for some time in Kashmīr with Mīrzā Yūsuf Khāu,²⁶⁵ and there he composed a poem on the people of the city in which he dwelt.^265a The following couplet occurs in it:—

“Sarmadī^265b is the squirrel of the tree of the poets,
He loves the stature of Orion and the feelers of the Crab.”

On a youth who was beloved by Mīrzā Yūsuf Khān he wrote the following couplet:—

“Mīrzā Yūsuf, the prince of the age, is in love.
He loves thy pure love, but he loves the beauty of others.”

He was one of the offspring of Mīrzā Jahān Shāh. In wisdom, generosity, sincerity, goodness of disposition, submissiveness, and humility he surpassed all. In early life he was in the service of the emperor Bābar, and in middle age he obtained advancement in the service of emperor Humāyūn, and received the honourable title of Khān-i-Khānān, and his present Majesty added Bābā-am^265d to his titles. He was a great friend to religious, was subject to fits of religious ecstasy, and was a benevolent man. The second conquest of Hindūstān,²⁶⁶ and the building up of the empire were due to his strenuous efforts, his valour, and his wise policy. Learned men came from all parts of the world to visit him and departed happy in the possession of gifts bestowed by his hand, as open as ocean itself, and his high court, lofty as the sky, was the resort of the lords of learning and all perfect qualities. His existence was, indeed, an honour to the age in which he lived. At last vile hypocrites poisoned the mind of His Majesty against him, until his affairs fell at length into the condition of which a brief description has been given in the chronicle of the reign.^266a He has composed a divān in Persian and Turkī which is in every hand, as his verses are on every tongue. This quatrain is his:—

“The masters of self-effacement are both high and low,
It is they who are ever drunken with draughts from the cup
of immortality.
Whatever there may be in the plane of non-existence,
Know for certain that it is they alone who truly exist.”

“Oh! Thou whose street is the Ka‘bah^266b of our happiness,
¹⁹¹ Whose Face is the point towards which we turn in prayer!
Blest will be the time when thou graciously drawest us to
Thyself,
Freeing us from the bonds of ceremonialism and conven-
tionality!”

He wrote an ode in praise of his holiness ‘Ali, the commander of the faithful (may God be gracious unto his countenance!) of which the following are the opening couplets:—

“Though a king be so great that his crown towers over the
nine heavens,
If he be not the slave of ‘Alī let dust be cast upon his head.
Hope not for love for the king of men from one who knows
not his own father,
Cujus matris ignominiam discooperiut alienus.”

The following is the commencement of a qaṣīdah which he wrote on the astrolabe:—

“What globe is this whose axis rests on the centre (of the
universe),
This full moon across whose midst the meteors dart?
Though it vaunts itself the equal of both sun and moon
It gladly enrolls itself among the emperor's slaves.
The sun's resplendent orb looms not so largely in our eyes
As the crescents which surmount the banners of the world-
famed king of kings—
Both sky and earth are ever subject to his authority,
Like the seal of a ring on the hand of a monarch as power-
ful as Jamshīd.
This globe brings with it a golden tray full of ashrafīs
To scatter before the feet of great kings,
The feet of the emperor of exalted dignity, Humāyūn, ¹⁹²
before whom, in order to obtain honour,
The sky itself places the head of humility on the threshold
of the Court.”

They relate that the emperor Humāyūn was one night in conversation with Bairam Khān, who was overcome by drowsiness. His Majesty reprovingly said, “Ha, Bairam Khān! It is to you that I am speaking.” He replied, “Yes, sire, I am attentive, but since I have heard that in the service of kings a watch should be kept over the eyes, and among darvīshes a watch should be kept over the heart, and among learned men a watch should be kept over the tongue. I was just pondering over which I should keep a watch, for Your Majesty is a King, a darvish, and a learned man.” His late Majesty was much pleased with this seemly reply, and expressed his approval of it.

Bairam Khān obtained the blessing of martyrdom²⁶⁷ at Paṭṭan in Gujarāt in the year H. 968 (A.D. 1561) and his bones were, in accordance with his will, taken to Mashhad.

He was known for his varied attainments and numerous accomplishments. He had performed the pilgimage to the two holy places, Makkah and Madīnah, and afterwards came to India. In Arabia he had studied some of the books of traditions such as the Mishkāt,²⁶⁸ and the Shamā'ilu-n-Nabī^268a (may God bless and preserve the prophet!) under Mīr Murtaẓā-yi-Sharīfī^268b and others. Being overcome by the weakness of old age he set out for his beloved native land, his original home, and while halting at Peshāwar on his way thither he heard the cry, “Return to Me!” from the lips of the Angel of Death, and in A.H. 973 (A.D. 1565-66) he withdrew to the Presence of the Merciful God.

The following verses are some of the relies of his copious imagination.

193 “Whether in the idol-temple or in the Ka‘bah I have looked
to none but Thee,
Wherever I have been I have never been forgetful of
Thee.”

“It is not in our age alone that the sky (fate) has been
pitiless,
Since its revolutions first began it has been both pitiless
and faithless.”

“Though Bīkasī should hear the reproaches of his enemies
a hundred times,
It were fitting that he should not allow them to vex or
disturb him,
For the following perfect couplet is well known throughout
the world:
And why, indeed, should not such a couplet have world-
wide fame?

‘Though the worthless stone crush the golden vase
The worth of the stone is not increased nor is that of the
gold diminished.’”

Quatrain.

“Oh heart, give not the rein to thine anguish and grief!
Forgo not one moment of true delight for all the dominion
of Jamshīd;
Should a loved one fall to thy lot, see well
That thou exchange not the dust of her footsteps for all
that both worlds can give.”

Maulānā Bīkasī writes that one day the late emperor Humā-yūn wrote in his own graceful handwriting over the arch of the porch of his palace in the royal residence of Dihlī the following couplet by Shaikh Āẕarī:—

“I have heard that on this gilded dome
Is written ‘At last the actions of all become praiseworthy.’”

The emperor was fated shortly afterwards to leave this narrow dwelling of deception for the sweet abode of bliss,²⁶⁹ and owing ¹⁹⁴ to the exigencies of the time that very palace was utilized as his tomb, and since this action of that enlightened king was attributed to miraculous prevision the chronogram for that event, contained in the following verses, was widely quoted at the time:—

“When the Emperor Humāyūn shortly before he died
Wrote on the door of the dwelling in which he lived,
‘It is written that at the last the actions of all become praise-
worthy,’
He referred prophetically to his own righteous end;
And when that dwelling by the decree of fate became his
tomb
It became the point towards which all turn in prayer, and
the Ka‘bah of their desires.

For this reason I give the following chronogram for his
death,
‘The foundation of the dwelling²⁷⁰ of the Sulṭān whose end
was praiseworthy.’”

He had a natural talent for poetry. The following verses are his:—

“In thine absence I am the slave of a hundred griefs,
Do thou rejoice since I am overwhelmed with anguish.”

“Although the fair to-day do not know my worth,
They will know it to-morrow when I shall be no more.”

“My eyes are suffused sometimes with my heart's blood,
sometimes with blood from my liver,
To me, the wretched one far from her face, even the way
of sight is closed.”

“He never becomes liberal like the cypress in the garden of
the world,
Who, like the narcissus, fixes his eyes always in covetous-
¹⁹⁵ ness on silver and gold.”

Bāqī was a long time in Hindūstān and was killed during the rebellion of Ma‘ṣūm the Kābulī.^270b

He lived in Agra after the fashion of humble men and the style of bygone days. This opening couplet of a qaṣidah is his:—

“Whoever enjoys the fruits of union with that jasmine-
bodied cypress
Owes it to his good fortune. It is his good fortune that
enjoys the fruit.”

On the discussion raised by Kāhī and Ghazālī²⁷¹ he wrote the following quatrain:—

“Kāhī and Ghazālī, those two drunken fools,
Have put hand to pen to belittle Jāmī^271a and Navā'ī.^271b
There has been nobody like them in the world,
For Kāhī^271c is nought but straw and Ghazālī^271d is nought but
a dog.”

He is for the most part an imitator^271f of Kh'āja Āṣafī. He is a skilful painter and has attained by means of studying the outward form to hidden truths, and has written on outward form and hidden essence a poetical treatise which begins as follows:—

“O Lord, I am unable to grasp hidden truth!
Forgive me, for I am too much a worshipper of the out-
ward form
Of thy grace, O most Pure God!
Thou hast so fashioned the outward form of our earthly
tabernacles
That every (fair) form which I see
Points out to me the way to the hidden truths of Thine ¹⁹⁶
Essence.”

Other Verses.

“When is the wine of love given to him who suffers no
pain?
Love for the beautiful is a state of exhilaration. To whose
lot does it fall?”

“In my dream I saw her sitting with the jealous watcher,
and my heart was perturbed.
Had I at that moment awoken from my dream I should
have died, but died too late.”

“When I cast a glance at her moonlike face, even while I
am looking,
She glowers at me angrily, to bid me not to gaze at her.”

“I steal a glance at that graceful one,
And when she looks towards me, I look downwards to the
ground in shame.”

“The child of my tears took his way in the road of my
beloved,
Like a sweet orphan he put his foot forward in this path;
But the delicate child was unable to endure love's tyranny,
And called my beloved cruel and faithless.”

“I am perturbed when she is away from me,
Lest my moon-faced darling should fall in love with
another.”

Pairavī wrote a complete dīvān of ghazals. He died in Hindū-stān.

On first leaving his native land he went to the Dakan, where he was with Malik Qumī, the poet. Thence he went to Gujarāt and was there with Mīrzā Niẕāmu-d-dīn Aḥmad,^273a adopting the nom-de-plume of Mashghūlī. The Mīrzā changed it, giving him ¹⁹⁷ his present nom-de-plume. His poetry is good, and since it is easy and flowing I quote the following excerpts:—

“When love made the eyelashes of the fair ones a lancet,
It caused the blood to flow from my arteries and veins,
Alas, that before I could close my eyes the arrow of
thought of the loved one
Penetrated my eye and thence pierced my heart.”

“In place of tears my wounded heart itself drops piecemeal
from my eyes,
From this fiery cloud all the blood of my liver rains down.”

“So long as the bird of my heart was the prey of that
hunter.
Each separate hair of my head rose up as a bird rising to
flight.”

Baqā'ī has now left the service of the Khān-i-Khānān,^273b and they say that he has come to Āgra and intends to go to Lāhōr.

He was called Safīdonī, and assumed the name of Nūrī as his nom-de-plume. Since he held the pargana of Safīdon in the sarkar of Sirhind²⁷⁴ as a jāgīr for some years, he was spoken of as though he had been a native of that place. He was distinguished for his attainments in geometry, the exact sciences, and astrology, and was one of the intimate companions of the late emperor, obtaining the title of Tarkhān in the course of his confidential association with him. He was unequalled in liberality, generosity, munificence and conviviality, for which qualities he was proverbial. ¹⁹⁸ He had poetic talent too, and composed a dīvān. One day on the polo-ground at Fatḥpūr he was injured by an elephant, and was in great pain. While in this condition he continued to repeat, “Be my witnesses, all of you, that in my present uneasiness I repent of some of my former acts and am resolved to amend my ways.” However much he was pressed on the subject he would not say what those particular acts were of which he repented. I said, “The first thing of which you will have repented will surely be the writing of poetry.” I do not know whether he was pleased with my suggestion, or annoyed, but the others who were present were much pleased. In the days of his authority he dug a canal from the Jamna, fifty kurūh in length, in the direction of Karnāl, and beyond that town. This was the cause of large additions to the cultivated area, and a great increase in the prosperity of the people. As it was dug in the name of the prince Sulṭān Salīm, it was called Shaikhūnai,^274a which word gives a chronogram for the date of its completion. Nai in Hindī means “a stream.” At length cruel fate brought utter ruin upon him so that he endured many hardships and privations. When His Majesty in A.H. 994 (A.D. 1586) departed for Āṭak he appointed Mullā Nūru-d-dīn to the trusteeship of the tomb of the late Emperor in the imperial city of Dihlī, and there the Mullā died. The following verses are excerpts from his poems:—

“Sad at heart am I sitting, far from those smiling lips,
Like the rose-bud am I sitting, with my head cast down to
my collar.”

“In his kindness and generosity
The most just King conferred on Tarkhān²⁷⁵ the title Khān.
Of this Khān-ate he possesses the name alone.
From this name, however full of dignity, what does he gain?
Nay more, he makes this complaint of the tarkhān-ate also
Before the king's perfect wisdom, ¹⁹⁹
That besides the “khān” nothing but desert lands seems to
remain to him,
While with his tarkhān-ate moisture^275a seems to disappear
from them altogether.”

The Khān, when the Emperor was marching against Ḥakīm Mīrzā in A.H. 989 (A.D. 1581), remained behind and returned from the Panjāb to his own jāgīr, a line of conduct which excited suspicion against him, so that after the Emperor's return from this expedition he was summoned to Fatḥpūr, there to be called to account for his monetary transactions and his writings, to be reprimanded, and deprived of his title. In this manner, he was persecuted for some years. Those who are qualified to discriminate attribute his ruin to the impropriety of which he was guilty in lampooning the officials in the imperial city of Dihlī, wherein he was actuated solely by the enmity which he bore to Tātār Khān.²⁷⁶ The satire which he wrote he chose to attribute to Qāsim-i-Kāhī, publishing it as the work of that poet. The grounds upon which his satire was based will be best defined by quoting from the effusion.

“Mīyān Jamāl Khān^276a is the muftī of Dihlī,
But he never yet delivered one of his foolish judgments
gratis;^276b
He is the Governor of the city under Tātār Khān,
And has just such another little donkey's face as his master's.
Shaikh Ḥasan the little decree-writer with his poisoned pen
Spreads on all sides false news and slanderous whispers.
At the very time of prayer he performs, in a perfunctory
manner, his ceremonial ablutions
When the reader has already ascended the pulpit,
It is he, it is he, it is he that oppresses the city,
A vain babbler, with his harlots”^276c

The opening couplet of that effusion, which even to quote is scurrility, is as follows:

“Alas, for Dihlī and its holy shrines,
Alas, for the ruin of its palaces!”

This satire extends to nearly two hundred and fifty couplets. One of the learned men of that city, Shaikh Muḥammad Kambū^276d

by name, wrote an answer to the whole of it in the following two²⁷⁷ couplets:—

“Nūrn-d-dīn is such a blockhead
That it must have been in folly that his father begat the fool. ²⁰⁰
The babbling dolt has been struck on the head with a mallet,
There is no (need to) answer his foolish chatter.”

Praise be to God! These verses are equal to^277a that world-famed fragment of the lord Maulavī Nūru-d dīn ‘Abdu-l-Raḥmān-i-Jāmī (may his tomb be hallowed!), the opening verses of which are given below:—

“Alas for the Love of God, and its ecstasy,
It has consumed my heart with its scorching heat!
Mine eye never glanced towards aught but God.
My lot is cast with God and with His revelations!”

The worthy Maulānā Nūru-d-dīn fancied himself a second Jāmī, both as a story-teller and as a stylist. But how can there be any comparison between the two?

“If in your actions you resemble not the virtuous, of what use
is it to resemble them in name?
“One who bore the title of Masīḥ restored sight to him who
was blind from his mother's womb, but another Masīḥ
had himself but one eye.”

It is to be hoped, however, that as he was not without natural goodness of disposition, he repented of his evil deeds, and that God in His gracious mercy allowed his tribulation and suffering in this world to be an expiation of his sins. May God forgive him When the Maulānā, after being put down from his high place, came to Agra, I was walking in the public market one day, and met him. One of my friends, the genial and witty Miyān Kamālud-dīn Ḥusain of Shīrāz,^277b who was one of the leading men in Āgra, said to him, “Well, my lord Nawwāb, you have written something regarding the officials in Dihlī, and now why should you not bestow the same favour on the officials in Agra, who expect it of you!” I said, “Evidently he has seen nothing in the leading men of Agra which renders them worthy of this honour.” Miyān Kamālu-u-dīn laughed and said, “This is a false charge which you have brought against us.”

He is a native of Transoxiana and is a witty man. He was with Mīrzāyān Ulugh Mīrzā²⁷⁸ at the time when the Mīrzās captured the fort of Bahroc, and wrote the following quatrain on the event:—

201 “The Timurides are unequalled in valour,
Victory smiles on them whithersoever they turn,
When they took Bahroc by storm
This chronogram was found for the event, ‘They captured
Bahroc.’”^278a

His name is Manohar and he is the son of Lon Karan, Rājā of Sāmbhar,^278b a famous salt tract. It may be that the “Attic salt” of his verses is the effect of his native land. He possesses wonderful personal beauty and extraordinary intellectual power. He was called at first “Muḥammad Manohar,” and afterwards received the title of Mīrzā Manohar. His father, in spite of his infidelity, used, by way of honouring and distinguishing him, to glory in calling him Muḥammad Manohar. Although he was not acceptable to the emperor he has poetic genius. These verses are his:—

“The Shaikh is boastful of his religion, the Brahman brags
of his idolatry:
He who is intoxicated with the beauty of the Friend has
naught to do with idolatry or religion.”

Quatrain.

“Without the love of Thee the liver is filled to the brim with
fire,
Without the pain of longing for Thee the thorn is sunk deep
in my brain;
The idol-temple and the Ka‘bah²⁷⁹ alike mean naught to me
but infidelity.
My concern is only with the One-ness of God.”

When they gave him his takhalluṣ (poetical name) he recited these few couplets:—

“O thou who sippest sharbat, visit the assembly of us who
drink the lees!
For our livers supply us with roast-meat, and the wine-
cup is filled with our heart's blood.
It is shameful for men to make mention of soul or heart in ²⁰²
the case of love,
But our hearts are like congealed blood and our souls are
like the bitter blast.
Tausanī,^279a give rein to the steed of desire in the field of love.
Thou shalt safely attain thy desire with Akbar for thy
guide.”

Since a Hindū^279b had so much poetic genius and ecstatic feeling ^279c I have recorded these verses.

He was sister's son to Maulānā Nargisī, and, in accordance with the saying, “the true son resembles his maternal uncle,” he was distinguished by his wit and the strength of his intellect. He came from Turkey to India in the days of Bairam Khān's supremacy, and profited much by his generosity. He was captured in the battle fought beneath the mountains²⁸⁰ by Ataga Khān, and was by him paraded before the emperor, as the chief of his gifts, with the banner of the eighth Imām, ‘Alī-ur-Riẓā^280a (may God accept him). He was very favourably received by the emperor. He composed his treatise on Beauty and Yūsuf for Yūsuf Muḥammad Khān,^280b the son of Ataga Khān. The opening couplet of the poem is as follows:—

“In the name of Him to whom the face of foe and friend
Is turned, in which direction soever He may be.”

He composed some verses descriptive of the members of the beloved, among which are the following couplets:—

“Her face is a mirror, her neck is a shaft of ivory,
Those who are in face like the fairies desire that mirror;
The palm of her hand is, like the sun, a mirror of light,
The fingers of that houri are the rays of the sun
To the eye of understanding the parting of the hair of that
sweet-lipped maid
Is a meteor resplendent in the heart of the night.^280c
Nay, I erred in describing it as a meteor,
Rather is it a stream of fair water traversing a garden of
hyacinths.

Desire fails²⁸¹ in its hope of reaching her navel, ²⁰³
Remaining for ever in the pit of despair.
Desire ever hovers round about her,
Like the thirsty quarry round about the well.
Above her nose is the palm-tree of our desire.
Her arched eyebrows stained with dye:
There grow, in spite of nature's rule,
Two lily petals from a wild rose sprig.
In the eye of that light of my eyes
There appears, as it were, a drop of dew on a rose.
Circumdant pudendum margaritae illius intemeratae,
Lunge velut crescentes duae.
In grace she excels the lily bud,
Tongue placed in palate and lip on lip.”

He has written in reply to the Dihnāma of ‘Imād a maṯuavī in which the following couplets occur:—

“From regret for thy moist^281a ruby lip
And from separation from thy curled looks
His (the lover's) weak body has dwindled to a hair,
In his body there remains no place for his soul.
From vexation and grief his heart is melted to blood,
He drinks his own blood and draws no breath.”

In a description of the morning he has written:—

“The ashes of the morning have gone on the breeze,
Fire has caught the cotton of the morning.”^281b

Couplets.

“When my head droops on my knees in separation from that
faithless one,

My body is reduced to a heap of ashes by my burning
heart.”

“When her cruel sword is raised like a banner to slay me,
I make my complaint of her cruelty, my excuse for falling
at her feet;
For her sake I cheerfully endured the cruelty of the world,
not knowing
How little trust could be placed in her tenderness and
faith.”

“In truth the quiltings of the patched woollen robe of
poverty
Bind upon the hands and feet of avarice the chains of con-
tentment.”

204 “Love's mendicant laughs at the ermine of royalty,
As he comes forth from love's furnace smeared with ashes.”

“The dust of existence has gone on the breeze, but still from
moisture of tears
The feet of Thy humble lovers remain in the mire.”

“The sword of thine eyelashes came as a boon to me when
I was beside myself,
When I came to myself I had a hundred wounds on my
soul.”