Taẕkirah al-aḥvāl (=Ta'rih-i Ahval) - The Life of Šaykh Mohammed Alī Ḥazīn

About the same period, by the blessing of the fear of God and my religious scrupulousness, granted me from heaven, I felt some perplexity and perturbation with regard to the Treatises of Derivative Practice, wherein are subjects of dispute among theologians, and my mind was not at ease on the decisions of the lawyers and the practice of the vulgar. I entered therefore deeply into this subject, and having made myself acquainted with the root and origin of the traditions, I studied many of the writings on The Purification of the Judgements by Sheikh Tosi, in the lecture-room of that industrious scholar Aga Hadi, son and successor to Mawlana Mohammed Salih of Mazenderan, upon whom be mercy! and looking into the authors of Traditions, and their allegations of authority, I referred to the books, whence the theologians draw their proofs. Having examined into their methods of deducing answers, I passed my view over the books of derivative rules of law: and bestowing abundant diligence on this matter, I obtained the peace of mind which my means afforded, on all the questions that occurred to me, and on which I had to act. In regard, especially, to the confliction of opinion and want of correctness of some of the Muftis, which are a stumbling to the feet and a cause of perplexity, I gained to a certain degree my freedom from pure imitation.

At those times, after midnight, when my father arose, I used to read to him, before he engaged in his supererogatory acts of devotion, the Tefsir Safi,¹ one of the compositions of the pious and learned Mawla, Mohammed Mahsan of Kashan, and completed its perusal. Notwithstanding my devotedness to study, and the variety of my daily occupations, I was fond of frequenting the society of clever and ingenious men, and mixed in a company of that class. One day in my father's house, a number of clever men were assembled together, and I also was desired to join them. In the midst of their discourse on various topics, one of them recited this couplet of Molla Mohtashim of Kashan: ²

O thou, in whose toil is the form of the tall of stature!

Grace being a creation of thy lofty figure!

Of which when some of the company had expressed their entire approbation, my father said: I have seen the Divan of Mohtashim, and he is a copious and masterly poet: but his stile is without salt, and he has not that degree of sweetness, which might atone for it, though saltness in stile is more pungent and always perhaps more agreeable to the taste than sweetness; as may appear from this his opening verse. The second hemistich only is right: the first is not conformable to nature; for to say the form is fallen into a toil is absurd. Were the word “form” away, and you said, “O thou in whose toil are the tall of stature!” the sentence would be proper and agreeable. The company acknowledged, what he said, as true. Then turning to me: I know, said he, that you have not yet abandoned poetry. If you can compose us a couplet in the same kind of ode, do so. At that instant, an opening verse came into my mind, and as his look again fell upon me, he comprehended, that I had thought of something, and he said: If you have composed any thing, recite it, and do not be ashamed. I said aloud this beginning of an ode:¹

The ringlet of thy high curling lock draws the chase from the sacred enclosure:

Alas the tyranny of thy dark musky noose!

The company moved from their places, and burst into applause. Whilst they were uttering their commendations, another couplet came into my mind, and I repeated:¹

From thy coming thither, the streets, where dwell thy lovers, are made the envy of Mount Sinai:

Sit down, that the bruised particles of our souls may be burnt for thee, as a perfume against malignancy.

Upon this my learned father also praised me, and said, that what he had denied to be in the poetry of Molla Mohtashim, was found in this couplet. I recited another:²

My heart's affair through love is become difficult, and I am pleased:

Perhaps it may prove agreeable to your difficultly pleased mind.

In the same way, after a little consideration, I composed another couplet, and went on, till I had recited a complete ode. The company observed, that they had thought no one capable, at the present day, of composing verses in this unpremeditated manner, and my father said, Now, I give you leave to cultivate the Muses, but not to such excess, as to waste your time: and made me a present of his own pen-case to write down this ode.

Shortly afterwards a severe accident occurred to me, which produced a languid intermission in my affairs. It was the fullness of spring and delightful weather, when going out one day with a number of friends into the country, I put my horse to its speed, and the animal fell in its course. My right arm was fractured, and did not heal in less than a year, though I was attended and dressed by skilful surgeons. I suffered bitter affliction, and though after some time the pain ceased, still my arm was useless, and a mere burden to my neck. Being habituated to the use of the pen, I took it in my left hand, and managed to write. During this period of distress and sorrow, I composed a great number of verses. One of these poems was a Mesnavi called Saki Namah, the beginning of which was thus:¹

Thou alone, O God! art acquainted with secrets;

The pure-intentioned have their bliss from thee.

For me, inebriation and a corner in a wine-house:

For my liberty, the line of a cup.

The length of the poem was about one thousand couplets, and its composition elaborate and fervid. Thus I passed my time, till the Almighty granted me a recovery from disease and anguish, and my scattered senses inclined again to collectedness.

I WILL now describe some of the most eminent and learned men, whom I saw at Isphahan during my early youth, and who, within that period, passed to a better life. Among them was the excellent Mawla, Mohammed Bakir Majlisi of Isphahan, who was Sheikh Al Islam,¹ and one of the famous theologians and Shia Lawyers. There are some well known writings of his. Three or four times only I saw him. At the age of seventy-two, in one thousand one hundred and ten of the Hejra, he departed this life. Another, a distinguished Seyyid, Mirza Aladdin Mohammed, known by the surname of Gulistani, was a very learned and pious man, and perfectly intimate with my father. In pious exercises and study he was incessant, and has left notes of reference on the common law books. His life was past in tranquillity and honour, and about this time he died. His sons became defiled² by holding offices at court, and lost the honour and reverence, which had been paid to their father. Another pious and learned man was the Sheikh Jafar Cadzi, who was one of the doctors of the town called Kamerah, and of the best scholars of that prince of teachers, Aga Hossein of Khonsar. He was possessed of the whole circle of arts and sciences, and his lectures were attended by a great crowd of the highest rank of literati. He lived in great honour and splendour, and having attained the office of Sheikh Al Islam, he discharged its important duties in a laudable manner. On account of his superior ability in state affairs, and in the forms of conversation and society, he received intimation of his intended appointment to the dignity of Grand Vezir; but some of the lords of the king's court, who aspired to that high office, used their endeavours to frustrate his good fortune, and diverted the Shah from his intention. The Sheikh died at an advanced age, and was buried near Hossein,¹ on whom be peace. As he lived on terms of perfect friendship and intimacy with my father, I several times had the opportunity of approaching him. Another, a younger brother of his, was Sheikh Ali, who also ranked among the eminent men, and died a few years after him. Another, the Messiah of his time, was Akhond Messihayi of Kashan, a man who possessed every ornament of learning and accomplishments, had been a pupil and son in-law of Aga Hossein of Khonsar, and gained the admiration of all mankind by his good qualities and agreeable society. He composed much in verse, and has left elegant compositions in prose. His poetical name was Sahib. These few couplets are from him:¹

The tie of your friendship is as the line of vision;

You but wink your eye, and the thread is broken.

 

Also²

The nightingale describes to the rose thy beauty and sweetness:

The butterfly seeks thee by the torch-light.

That I may have a pretence for turning back,

I left my heart behind me, when I retired from thy street.

He was employed in Isphahan till the hour of his death, in teaching and doing good. Another, Mawlana Hajji Abo Torâb, was of the excellent men of that period. He was an intimate friend of Mawlana Mohammed Bakir Majlisi. He employed himself in teaching divinity and law, and his legal decisions are depended on as authoritative. His life was spent in tranquillity, and he died in the same year as Mawlana Mohammed Bakir. I had the happiness to see him several times. His son Hajji Abo Talib was also a theologian, and died within a few years after his father. Another eminent man was Aga Razi Eddin Mohammed , son of the intelligent professor, Aga Hossein of Khonsar. He was a chaste scholar, possessing a most subtle genius, and great sublimity of thought. Under him a great number of the most eminent men had pursued their studies. He died in his youth. It was in my father's house that I had the advantage of beholding him. Another distinguished scholar was Mirza Bakir Cadzi Zadeh, one of the scientific men of his time, and possessed of a genius for poetry. As he dwelt in the district of Isphahan called Abbas Abad, he was known by the name of the Cadzi Zadeh, or Cadi's Son, of Abbas Abad. He was skilled in most of the sciences, and devoting himself to study, he regulated his time with precision. Till the hour of his death, he was bound in friendship to my father. He took delight in the composition of poetry, and these verses are his:¹

It is the season of the rose and of spring:

The rose-garden has the beauty and sweetness of my beloved.

Without thee, the moon-light night of melancholy lovers

Becomes dark, as the white blind eye.

Another was Mawlana Shems Eddin Mohammed, son of the excellent chief priest² Mawlana Mohammed Saaid of Gilan, who was an able man, and an acquirer¹ of accomplishments both apparent and ideal.² Having obtained a knowledge of most of the arts and sciences, he was overcome by a desire to follow the method³ and a sober life; and being subdued and held down by a singular agitation of mind and a deep seriousness of thought, he abandoned the apparent sciences, and placed himself under the guidance¹ of Hajji Abd Alcadir, of Ashik Abad in Isphahan, who esteemed himself one of the spiritual fathers of that time, and had a number of disciples. He died in the vigour of his youth in the life time of his father, who was one of the greatest scholars, and survived him but a short time. They were attached by ancient friendship to my father. Another son of the above-mentioned Mawlana Mohammed Saaid, was Aga Mehdi, a very learned man and possessed of great ability in mathematical science. I have heard, that he is still alive and dwelling at Lahijan. Another collector of accomplishments, was Mawlana Hajji Mohammed of Gilan. He was one of the famous enquirers after science and truth, and possessed most praise-worthy qualities. Having fixed his abode at Isphahan, he studied under the late Mojtahid, Mawlana Mohammed Bakir of Khorasan, one of the greatest of the learned. He had a true taste for poetry, and his verses are known to the public. Every month he used to come once or twice to my father's house, and staid some days with us. His disposition was modest and equable; his conduct chaste and sober in the extreme. He died at Isphahan. These few couplets are his:¹

From the melting of the wax comes subsistence to the torch's flame:

The oppressor lives by the side of the oppressed.

I am of no use to myself or to others:

Life consumes me vainly, as a torch is burnt in the day-time.

By the amorous desire of my beloved, my heart is lighted up with brightness:

If water would be fire, it must first become air.

So, if my soul has a longing for the point of my love's dart,

After death let my dust become stone, and that stone a magnet.

 

Also,¹

In the morning, on my approach to the wine-jar my flask fell upon a stone:

At such a time, no person's foot even should meet a stone.

THE number of learned and able men in Isphahan was so great, that, were I to give a full account of them, I should fall into prolixity. The truth is, that there is no where in the world to be found a city, however large, that contains the universality to be met with here.

Arabic Couplet.¹

A country, in which youth untied the amulet of my childhood:

The first earth, whose soil felt my tender touch.

Of an atmosphere so temperate, salubrious, and agreeable, as that of Isphahan; a water, so light and digestible; a town, so clean and neat, so magnificent and splendid, with such a multitude of lofty buildings,¹ of new and ancient monuments, and with such a concourse of elegant and affluent inhabitants, no indication has been given in the habitable world.² The influence of the place is visible, in the education and accomplishment of the minds and persons of its inhabitants, having ever been the source and seminary of learned, great, clever, and honourable men: and however much labour might be bestowed on the description of its fair qualities, still something would remain unsaid. Let a sensible, experienced man, who has seen the world and made the circuit of the universe, come to this city, and, settling there, let him have abundant time and opportunity, and he will continually be discovering properties and qualities to distinguish it above every place on the terrestrial globe. Here goodness of living is uniform for the poor and the rich, the stranger and the native: here the gain of every perfection and of every kind of pleasure is obtainable and easy. The inhabitants of Isphahan are of every class of men, and they are all bred to vivacity, manliness and courtesy. The generality of them are adorned with the jewels of modesty and chastity, and a love for religion and the service of God. The innumerable colleges and mosques are frequented, both day and night, by the piety and devotion of men of fortune and seekers of truth; and by the blessing of just and wise princes, promoters of religion, and the example and influence of learned and great men, propagators of virtue, the whole of its population is trained and practised, in laudable rules and observances, in approved customs and proceedings. Abominable things and blameable actions are rare in this city, and carefully suppressed. The Hakim Shefayi, a celebrated poet, in one of his Mesnavis has exerted himself to the utmost in its description, and has said:¹

The revolving sphere is the father, and the pillars of heaven the mother;

But Isphahan, the daughter, is better than the parent.

Strong, as the foundation of friendship,

On its pinnacle the orbit is a fort.

Its fortifications are therefore full of twists and turns,

Because within its bowels is the fortune of the world.

Both the East and the West have place within it,

And both have taken a mansion in one street.

From the extreme extent of this greatest of cities,

A hundred hours strike in it at one and the same instant.

In this house, is the rise of morning;

In that street, is night born of darkness.

A hundred times the sun bears his head above the meridian,

Whilst yet, in another place, his face is hidden.

For the water and air of that town God be praised!

From them the intelligent mind is diffused.

Humanity, is an incomparable rose that blooms on its meanest thorns;

Intellect, the common herb of its grass-plots.

At the gate of this world of wisdom,

Greece is but a beggar, in humanity.

In every street, is an Aristotle standing up,

At every step, is a Plato on the ground.

Its merchants and traders are wise and intelligent;

They are both untiers of knots and makers up of observations.

The lowest populace are inventors of such Megistis as Ptolemy's;

The very children carry medicine in their sleeves like Galen.

If the Celestial Paradise has four rivers,

This is a paradise that has a thousand.

Until, from the murderously piercing eye¹ and malignancy of fortune, there fell on that vast city what befell it, of desolation and ruin, and dispersion of its inhabitants, and of its ancient and illustrious families.

Arabic Poetry.²

Fate inevitably will one day meet thee;

Fate, who cares not, whether she tyrannize or act justly.

 

Persian Couplets.

My beloved's fair face of the pavilion I see the palace now bereft of;

Of the form of that erect cypress I see the garden now deprived.

On the place, where stood the jar and the cup, the wretched blind have set their foot.

Instead of the harp and the flute and the flageolet, is the clamour of the crow and the kite.

Build palaces, and yet you shall dwell under the ground:

What concerns it their property, that they be rolled up in a simple winding-sheet!

Still, notwithstanding that the devastation of this great capital has been completed, it is yet the best of all the countries in the world; and any persons arriving here who should not have witnessed its former condition, would suppose that nothing has been diminished from its ancient splendour. In a very short time, should the excessive iniquity and burning tyranny of its rulers be a little abated, it would return to the beauty of its pristine state, and be the resort of travellers from all parts of the earth. May the Almighty God preserve it in justice and equity!

MY father, out of a longing to see his brothers and relations, was seized with a desire of going to Lahijan, and, taking me with him, he set out in that direction. At every stage where we alighted, I read with my father the Theological Part of the Sharh Tajrid, and the Zubdat Olosol.¹

Of the eminent and learned men, whom I met with on that journey, one was the excellent attester of truth² Mirza Hassan son of the late Mawla, Abd Orrazzak of Lahijan. I had the happiness to wait upon him in his old age and last days of life at the City of True Believers,¹ Com, which was his place of abode. He was a miracle of science and piety, and has left some noble compositions, such as, The True Light on Articles of Faith in Religious Practice,² The Beauty of Good Men in their Works,³ A Pious Treatise, and some others.

Another was Hajji Mohammed Sherif, to whose society I was admitted in the same town. He was a collector of sciences, possessed a disposition of the most unsullied purity, and was a man of perfect taste. Another was the prince of learned men, Mir Mohammed Ibrahim of Cazvin, an assembler of the intellectual and traditional,⁴ and a pious man. I saw him at the seat of government, Cazvin. Another was the prince of excellent men Mirza Cavam Eddin Mohammed of Seif near Cazvin, who was an intelligent scholar, and in traditional learning, particularly, was an Imam, or Prelate. He composed well in Arabic and Persian verse, and in manners and disposition was worthy of all praise. It was also in that town that I was introduced to his society. These two noble Seyyids lived till within the last few years.

On our arrival at Lahijan we alighted at the ancient mansions of our family, and I visited my highly respectable uncle and all the men of learning, rank, and ability in that country. I passed little short of a year there, and enjoyed perfect calmness and tranquillity of mind. My father employed himself in conference and disputation, and I attended his class as one of his pupils. By his direction, I studied under my uncle the Treatise called Khulâsat Olhisâb.¹ At times, going for a walk and recreation to the charming spots in the neighbourhood of the town, I cast my delighted eye over heart-attracting landscapes; then reverted with cheerfulness to the sweet society around me.

THE whole of the districts of Gilan, especially the town and territory of Lahijan, whether for verdure and delightful scenery, or cultivation and abundance of inhabitants; for plentifulness of the finest flowers, or superfluity of waters and rivers; or for intricacy of trees and fruit-plants both of hot and cold climates, are without like or equal in the inhabited quarter of the globe, and form a world apart, whereof no resemblance is to be found. Gilan contains several considerable and populous cities, with lofty and ornamented edifices and strongly fortified castles. Having been always since the most ancient times covered with inhabitants and made the abode of august princes, it has been for the most part divided among three powerful kings. The air of this province is exceeding fresh and temperate. The good living of its tenantry and their enjoyment of every delicacy are to a degree of perfection, that surpasses the lot of every other country in the world. For no sort of comestibles or variety of clothing, for none whatsoever of the necessaries of life is there any kind of want to this kingdom from without. What in other countries is not to be grown or manufactured, here is so obtainable and easy of production, that it bears no price or value. In most of the forests, the passage of birds and beasts is become impossible through the close intertwining of the trees with one another; and the power of vegetation is so great, that in the mountain is to be found no portion of rock, on the plain no handful of soil, clear of trees, or grass, or flowers. From the multitude of trees without autumn,¹ such as the oak,² cypress, orange, shaddock³ and the like, the hills and vallies are of a perpetual emerald hue; and though trodden by crowds of foot and horse men, the public roads to the towns and villages are always covered with flowers and verdure.⁴ The number of delightful spots and places abounding with game is beyond computation; and the various kinds of prey, which both land and sea furnish, are incalculable. The natives are well known for their abundant vivacity and ingenuity, and their continence and hospitality are celebrated. This province has always been replete with learned and eminent men; but, as it is near the shore of the Caspian sea, it mostly happens, that in the course of an age, through the corruption of the sea-air, the plague spreads its contagion more or less through the towns, and multitudes of its inhabitants are destroyed. The humidity also of the atmosphere being excessive, in such sort that it is dangerous to sleep in the open air at night, by reason of the heavy dew, it is not unusual for it to disagree with the constitutions of foreigners.

AFTER my father had seen his friends and made his arrangements regarding the lands of his hereditary possessions, he set forth on his return to Isphahan, and I had the honour to accompany him. Along the road he gave me instruction in a treatise on the Demonstration of the Heavens,¹ and in an epitome or two on Astronomy. Arrived at Isphahan, I resumed with fresh ardour and increased diligence my accustomed pursuits of conferences and disputations, and passed my time in tranquillity and contentment. In the lecture-room of that intelligent scholar Mirza Kemâl Eddin Hossein of Fasa² I studied the Explication of Beidâwi, The Jamia Eljawamia of Tabrasi, and The Political Economy³ of the Sharh Tajrid. With the learned Mawla, Hajji Mohammed Tahir, of Isphahan, who was one of the great lawyers of his time, I read The Istibsar of Sheikh Tosi, and the Sharh Lumaa of the Damascan. At this period, the fame of the knowledge of that model of philosophers, Sheikh Inayat Allah, of Gilan, God have mercy on his soul! who was occupied in teaching at Isphahan, and was a friend of my father's, gave me a desire to profit by his instruction. With him, I began and finished the perusal of the Logical part of the Tajrid, which is one of the valuable books on Logic, and the book called Najat of Sheikh Avisena.¹ As long as this scientific philosopher continued in Isphahan, we maintained our relations of study and instruction. Afterwards, retiring to Gilan, he died at Cazvin. He had been a pupil of Mir Cavâm Eddin, the celebrated philosopher, and was in all the wisdom of the schools, and the whole circle of the sciences, a perfect master; of the oral traditions of the learned, a diligent collector. Having undergone great austerities, in the attainment of high degrees, he was possessed of admirable taste, and of a strongly furnished memory. The common and ordinary lawyers,² being no object of his attention, or respect, accused him, as is their custom, of holding the religious doctrines of the philosophers, and of deviating from the holy law. God forbid, that he should have been guilty of such deviation!

Next, I attended the prince of profound sophists, Amir Seyyid Hasan, of Talcan, God have mercy on his soul! who was one of the greatest doctors, and most noble craftsmen.¹ He lectured with me on the Fisos El Hikam, or Gems of Science, of Sheikh Arabi, and I employed myself in that study. I also read with him a Commentary on the Heyakil En Nôr,² or Temples of Light. He had a very great affection for me. In no department of science was there any branch in which his ready knowledge was not perfect. Coupling questions of philosophy with speculations of Sofyism, he owned a vast sublimity in the revelation of the three degrees of Unity. Strength of exposition and disputation he possessed to so high a pitch, that no disputant had any power of speech beside him. My affection for him and love of his instruction, and his kindness to me, were firm and constant, till the time of his death in Isphahan. Some of his vulgar¹ students accused him also, behind his back, with holding doctrines not drawn from the most holy revelation; for Men are enemies of what they are ignorant of.²

One of the eminent men of the time, in that city, was the late Aga Jemâl Eddin Mohammed of Khonsâr, eldest son of the learned Aga Hossein, light be the earth on his remains! whose reputation is too great to allow any necessity of his description. Though I obtained not the happiness of receiving instruction from him, I repeatedly had the honour to be present at his assemblies. He died at an advanced age, in Isphahan, and was buried near his father. His life had been passed in teaching, amidst honour and magnificence. He was a very holy man, and of laudable habits and manners.

Another of the exalted doctors was, Akhond Mawla Mohammed, of Gilan, well known by the name of Serâb. He was one of the Mojtahids, or Chief Priests of the age, and, through the fear of God, perfectly temperate and continent. He had been long an inhabitant of Isphahan, was employed in teaching, and was provided with all the conveniences and enjoyments of life. With my father he was particularly united in familiarity and friendship, and I many times waited on him to investigate questions of science. He died at a great age, and was buried in that town.

At this time, I took an inclination to the study of Medicine, and learnt a portion of the Kolliat of the Canon,¹ making myself acquainted with some of the objects of that science, under the Galen of the age, the celebrated Physician, Mirza Mesih, who was a man of accomplished skill in medicine, and devoted his whole time to the cure of diseases, and the instruction of most of the medical practitioners in the city. One night I sat up to read, and, in the morning early, my learned father, God have mercy on his soul! came near, and took a seat by me. I was surrounded and busied with books of medicine. Having asked me, and being satisfied, that I was employed on that science, he forbad me to pay so much attention to it, or to enter so deeply into it. If a person, said he, has confidence, that he shall have leisure to obtain what he seeks, his search is right: but, to you, whence can such belief and confidence in length of life come? I see that your mind is devouring and consuming your body, as a sharp sword eats its scabbard. Such a person cannot be long-lived. Labour, then, in what is most important. So saying he caressed me, and having said a prayer for me, he arose.

Soon afterwards, I went to attend that eminent Sophist, Mirza Mohammed Tahir, son and sucessor of Mirza Abo'l Hasan of Cayin, who in mathematical sciences, and the middle classes of philosophy, was the phœnix of the age. For a length of time, I studied and investigated some treatises on Astronomy, the Sharh Tedzkereh,¹ the Tahrir Eucleides, the Tahrir Megisti,² and the Cavanin Hisabieh.³ This eminent man lived till about ten years ago, when I heard of his death.

I NOW felt a desire to inform myself on the questions and truths of the different religions, and concerning the followers of the various sects. I became intimate with the doctors of the order of Christians, and their padres, who were in a numerous body at Isphahan, and tried and measured the quantity of knowledge of each of them. One held pre-eminence among them, and they called him the Caliph Avanus. He knew Arabic and Persian well, and was versed in Logic, Astronomy, and Geometry. Some Mahometan books had undergone his perusal, and he had a great wish to investigate several of their questions and propositions: but from fear, and through the utter disrespect of the Moslem doctors for his order, he had been unable to attain his object. He esteemed my society a great acquisition, and when, after a while, he had become acquainted with my character and just discretion, he shewed me great sincerity and friendship. From him I learnt the Gospel, and obtaining access to the commentaries upon it, I thoroughly investigated their articles of faith, and the principles of their religion, and read a great number of their books. He also, sometimes, asked information from me, and I repeatedly by various arguments proved to him the truth of the Mahometan faith. Not having a word to say in reply, he stood convinced of the error of his way, but he died without having openly received the grace of being directed to the straight road of salvation.

Among the Jewish inhabitants of Isphahan, who, as they believe, have since the time of Moses been dwellers in that town, there was one named Shoaib, the most learned of his brethren. I gained his confidence, and took him to my house. I learnt from him the Bible, had the interpretation of it written for me, and informed myself of the truth of all that they maintain. But I found that order of men totally destitute of knowledge and learning, and entire strangers to thought and discernment. Their stupidity, and obduracy in ignorance, are without end, or measure.

I acted in the same way with regard to the varieties of the Mahometan belief. I read the books of every sect, and considered what each had to say, discreetly and anxiously remarking on their arguments. Wherever I found any person belonging to any sect, who was knowingly attached to his own religious opinions, I frequented his society, and made myself acquainted with his views and discourses. In this way, I had God knows how much conversation with the followers of different opinions.

In the midst of these occupations, I gave lectures on the ordinary classic books, and wrote commentaries and appendixes on them. As occasion permitted, I composed separate treatises on my different investigations, and shewing most of them, first, to the skilful in each art, I obtained perfect confidence in their correctness, as they severally met with approbation. By the blessing of the divine assistance, it has never yet happened, that any infirmity or erroneousness has appeared in any passage of my compositions; and from God is all aid and preservation from error.

IN those days, one of the accidents and strange events that befell me, was the attraction of a beauty, and the allurement of an accomplished lady, which drove my heart to distraction.

Lines.¹

She shewed me a sample of the beauty of my friend (God):

But though the two worlds should be confused, I have no intent to make alarm, or complaint.

An indescribable perplexity fell amidst the inmost recesses, and secret feelings, of my nervous frame, and from my unsettled heart tumult and disturbance arose.

Lines.¹

The morning-lecture, I have laid at the threshold of the wine-house

The times of prayer, I have devoted to the path towards my beloved.

Fire might be spread over the harvest of a hundred sage devotees,

From this burn-spot that I have had set on my maddened soul.

The frantic nightingale of my heart began in a loud tone to sing this note;

Lines.²

I say it openly, and am happy in what I say;

I am love's slave, and free, else, of both worlds.

There is nothing on the tables of my heart, but the Alif of my beloved's stature;

What can I do? my master taught me no other letter.

The most extraordinary circumstance was, that the vanquished and down-fallen at the feet of that princess of the fair, exceeded all number and description; and I was ever repeating this couplet;⁶⁷

Sweet rose! not alone am I an object of wonder to the gazing crowd;

Hundreds of thy distracted lovers gather crowds by their frantic gestures.

One night I went to a garden with a company of agreeable companions, and true friends. Among them was Mawlana Ali Kosâri of Isphahan, a celebrated penman, who was a store of perfections, both apparent and ideal, and a phoenix of the age; in beauty of person, and skill of sweet singing, a rival of the miraculous David. At midnight, having raised his voice in tune, he first began to sing the following couplet:¹

To-night come to me, Love! that in the orchard we may fill a glass;

Thou shalt outvie the rose and torch-light, I the moth and nightingale.

My poor inflamed heart fell into such a state, that it would be impossible to describe it. A thousand times, my elemental body must have been abandoned by its sovereign spirit. Till morning dawned, his melody still compassed this same couplet. He sang, and was silent; again, after a short pause, he struck up anew the same modulation.

Some time afterwards, a severe affliction befell me. One night, a pain arose in my joints, and increasing violently towards morning, it subdued all the limbs in my body, so that I was incapable of the smallest motion. A number of medical men came to cure me, and tried sudorifics, and potions of Chinese wood: but, amid the attacks of anguish and sorrow to which my mind was a prey, the success of this treatment was difficult.¹ One of the practitioners, Mirza Sherif, son and heir of the celebrated doctor Jelal Eddin, who was a most ingenious physician, and adorned with the jewels of knowledge and integrity, undertook to cure me by a different process, and attended me two or three days; upon which, the physician himself was seized with the same complaint, and took to his bed. In these circumstances I composed an ode, the beginning of which was thus:²

For the crime of love if thou hast killed me, I am grateful for the kindness:

But, Lord! what is the fault of the innocent hermit? I am perplexed to understand it.

This is from the same ode:³

In the School of Being, the tablet of the heart is the Book of Love:

Thou hast done well, to draw the stroke of obliteration on the line of my body.

At the end of two months, Almighty God granted me a recovery from this chronic disease, and I returned to my occupation of teaching and learning.

DURING the period of my illness, being powerless of other exertion, I composed many verses, and, as I could not write myself, others wrote them for me. They are of a different turn and character from my other poetry. Afterwards, I collected all the poems which I had accumulated from the beginning till then, and formed them into a Divan, consisting of cassidas, or elegies, mesnavis, odes, and quatrains, to the number, I suppose, of seven or eight thousand couplets. This was the first Divan of my humble production. It has circulated through the hands of the literati. My love for composition, and for the society of poets, increased, and my taste was wonderfully affected and delighted, by good and approved poetry.

Of all the men of genius and masters of language that I ever associated with, one I may mention as having seen, that had attained to all the niceties and beauties of Persian Poetry, and could do justice to all the demands of eloquent composition; one, whose equal in degree I have not yet seen, Mir Abd Alghani Tafrashi, one of the nephews of the late excellent Mir Abd Alghani Tafrashi, a pupil of the celebrated Mirza Ibrahim of Hamadan, who, in the reign of the last Shah Abbas, ranked as a clever man, and is now dead. In short, this Mir Abd Alghani, who was one of my friends and most intimate companions, and according to the saying,¹ “The high-mettled youth ever holds to his illustrious fathers,” was adorned with the purest accomplishments, possessed a perfect and true taste, and the most exalted disposition. Having gone through the course of the ordinary sciences, he became a prodigy of poetical talent, for ingenuity, taste, and imagination; though, indeed, he composed very little poetry, the whole number of his virgin thoughts not amounting to as many even as one hundred couplets. But he composed in the proper style; and there is no comparison between the strength, and sweetness, and delicacy of his language, and the inferior compositions of his contemporaries. In the growth of ingenious subtilties, and in quickness of perception for faults of style, I have not seen his equal. Whilst he lived, I composed a great deal of poetry by the taste of his criticism, as he maintained a very great intimacy with me. This quatrain is from him.¹

I have sat a whole life in the path of fidelity; but in vain:

I have set my heart on none besides thee; but in vain.

In thy street, the approach of every dog is nearer than mine:

I have broken all this quantity of bones; but in vain.

He died at Isphahan in the flower of his youth, and has left the fire-mark of separation on the hearts of his friends. “O God! forgive him his offences, and place him beside thee in the highest of high places.”

AFTERWARDS, on occasion of the departure of some persons among my friends and acquaintances, who were free to follow their inclinations, towards the Court of Excellence, Shiraz, I also was seized with a desire to visit that country; and after asking leave of my parents, I set out in that direction. On my arrival in that town, I was admitted to the society of its eminent chiefs, and clever men, and I took so great a liking to the place, that, as long as I staid there, my time was spent most agreeably.

The Court of Empire, Shiraz, is one of the most considerable towns of Persia, and as long as it has existed, both since the establishment of Islamism, and before it, has ever been the meeting, and dwelling place, of philosophers, and of chief priests. Though there is not much vigour, or agreeableness, in its air, or waters; yet there is salubrity; and the town is well peopled, and abundantly supplied with all manner of provisions. Mosques, and Colleges, and fine houses, are numerous; and many of the streets are handsome and pleasing. Sheikh Saadi Shirazi has said;¹

Lines.

For all Egypt and Syria, for all land and sea;

Every place is a village, or hamlet; Shiraz, a city.

Here was residing that great master of the learned, Mawlana Shah Mohammed Shirazi, God have mercy on his soul! and I employed my time in attending his lectures on the book called Osol Kâfi. During most of the hours of both night and day, I was studying by his side; and his affection for me was great. This eminent man was one of the prodigies of his age, for vastness of research, strength of memory, and length of life. He had enjoyed the society of most of the learned men and great philosophers of his time, and had visited the greater part of the kingdoms of the world. In the attainment of high degrees, and the complete preparation of his soul, he had undergone many and great austerities, and had gained the sincere friendship of the saints and spiritual doctors. His morals were deserving of the highest praise, and his disposition was one of the most generous. His life extended to near one hundred and thirty years, all of which he spent in diffusing knowledge, seeking truth, and labouring to do good to his fellow servants of God. Some treatises on Traditions, Judgements, and Sofyism, are among his compositions. A short time after my arrival in Shiraz, he breathed his last.

Another of the eminent men of that town was Mawlana, the Asserter of Truth,¹ the Collector of the Intelligible and Traditional, Akhond Mesihai, of Fasa, on him be mercy! whose occupation was giving lectures. He was the greatest of all the scholars of Aga Hossein of Khonsâr, and the model of the eminent men of his time. In strength of genius, fairness of method, and profundity of learning in all the sciences, he obtained celebrity; and the dignity of Sheikh Al Islam of Fars, was committed to his charge and possession. His lecture-room was the place of assembly for students from all parts of the universe, and I passed a considerable time in repetition and disputation under him. I read with him The Physics of the Shefa, The Divinity of the Sharh Ishârât, The Old and New Commentaries, and so forth, until he retired to the town of Fasa, and repaired to the mercy of God. He was, in truth, among the most intelligent of the learned of high degree, and possessed great reach of thought, true taste, and cheerfulness of temper and disposition. In Persian and Arabic poetry, he was eloquent to the utmost; and he has left some splendid couplets in praise of the Commander of the Faithful, on whom be peace! which are most eloquently written. His Persian poems are well composed, and are spirited and charming. Maani is his Takhallos, or poetical title.

Quatrain.¹

That petulant wine-seller has become fierce in inflaming my heart;

Her wantonness has led her to turn a vender of Kabab:

Cherished by the quickening dew of her rosy cheek,

To morrow, or next day, the apple of her chin will be ripe as the mellow pear.

Another of the celebrated dignitaries of that town, was Mawlana Lotf Ollah Shirazi, one of the solid scholars, and a pupil of the eminent Aarif, Mawlana Mohammed Mahsan Kashani. I attended him a length of time in the study of the Hadis and other sciences; and after I had read with him the book called Wâfi, one of the compositions of the late Molla Mahsan, he granted me, in writing, an ample licence.¹ He died soon after at an advanced age.

Another of the eminent men of that country, was the learned Mawla Mohammed Bâkir, known by the title of Sofi, a very able and accomplished scholar. With him, I read the book called The Talvihât of Sheikh Ashrak, and a portion of the Canon. He also, in that town, took his departure to the world of perpetuity.

Another of the dignities of that place, was Sheikh Mohammed Amin Shirazi, a man adorned with learning and uprightness, with whom I frequently associated. He survived the afore-mentioned dignitaries some time; but is since dead.

Another of the great and learned men of that city, and a collector of excellences, was Mawlana Mohammed Ali, known by the addition of Sakâki. Being unrivalled in knowledge, he was attended as a lecturer in all the lecture-rooms of Shiraz. He was skilful and acute in every branch of science, and had been a pupil of Mawlana Shah Mohammed Akhond Mesihai of Fasa, and others. Having formed the connexion of Irâdat,¹ or Willingness, in the line of Spiritual doctors, he wore their dress. He was of a very exalted nature, of pure intention, and happy disposition; and was greatly approved of in the hearts of men. He maintained a constant friendship and intimacy with me, till, at the conquest of the Afghans, he attained the degree of Martyrdom in Shiraz. He wrote very good verses, of which I here transcribe these few couplets:²

Grant, O my God! the two worlds as a reward to my murderer:

This delightful taste of martyrdom is a sufficient fine for my blood.

My body is Egypt, my ambition Pharaoh, my soul is Haman, and I am Moses:

My fancies and imaginations are my magic, and my guide is my staff.

As the negation of a negative is affirmation, I fear not to die:

My duration, like that of the extinguished torch, is in my mortality.

Is there any need of gathering up the skirt to pass through the Sarâb of the world?

The top of my foot would not become wet from the passage of the seven seas.

In his poetical compositions, Shakib is his Takhallos, or title as a poet.

Another prince of princes and eminent men, was Mirza Mehdi Nesabeh, who attained the dignity of Sheikh Al Islam, and was of high respectability. His family is of repute in that town for splendour of rank and lineage. For me he had a perfect friendship and affection. The sons and nephews of that race were all worthy men, and were intimate companions of mine. This noble Seyyid, also, attained the degree of martyrdom in the revolution at Shiraz.