CHAPTER II
HASAN BASRI (d 728 ad)
Hasan Basri was born in Arabia at Medina, where his mother had been brought as a captive and
sold to Omm Salma, one of the wives of the Prophet. Arrived at man's estate, and having
received his liberty, he retired to Basra on the Persian gulf, a stronghold of the ascetic sect. Here
he lived undisturbed, though his open disavowal of the reigning family of Ommeyah exposed
him to some danger. The following incident, illustrating his independence of character is narrated
by Ibn Khalliqan. When Omar ibn Hubaira was appointed to the government of Irak in the reign
of the Caliph Abd-al Malik (a.d. 721) he called for Hasan Basri, Muhammad Ibn Sirin and as
Shabi to whom he said, "Abd al Malik has received my promise that I will hear and obey him;
and he has now appointed me to what you see, and I receive from him written orders. Must I
obey him in whatever orders he takes upon himself to give?" To this Ibn Sirin and as Shabi gave
a cautious reply, but Hasan Basri, being asked his opinion, made this answer: "O Ibn Hubaira!
God outweighs Abd al Malik, and Abd al Malik cannot outweigh God; God can defend thee from
Abd al Malik, and Abd al Malik cannot defend thee from God. He will soon send an angel to
take thee from thy throne, and send thee from the width of thy palace into the narrowness of the
tomb. Then thy deeds alone can save thee." Ibn Hubaira then rewarded them, but bestowed a
double reward on Hasan Basri, upon which as Shabi said to Ibn Sirin, "We gave him a poor
answer, and he gave us a poor reward."
Hasan Basri's adoption of the ascetic life was brought about in the following way. When a young
man he was a lapidary, and had gone to Roum (Asia Minor) to practise his craft. He there lived
on friendly terms with the vizier of that country. One day the vizier said to him, "We are going
out of the city to a certain place; will you come with us?" Hasan Basri assented, and went. "We
came," he said afterwards, "to a plain where there was a vast tent the ropes of which were of silk
and its stakes of gold. I saw a large number of soldiers marching round it; they repeated some
words which I could not hear, and then retired. Then came about four hundred mullahs and
learned men, who did the same. These were followed by a similar number of old men. Then
about four or five hundred beautiful maidens, each holding in her hand a dish containing rubies,
pearls, turquoises, and other precious stones. They went in procession round the tent in the same
way. Finally the sultan and the vizier went into the tent and came out again.
"As for me, I remained transfixed with astonishment. 'What does all this mean?' I asked the
vizier. 'The King,' he said, 'had an extremely beautiful child of a happy disposition, who fell ill
and died. His tomb20 is within this tent, and they visit it once a year. First come the soldiers,
who circle round the tent and say, 'O son of the sultan, if we could have ransomed thy life by the
strokes of our swords, we would have done it, even had it cost us our own; but God willed
otherwise, and we cannot change his decree.' Having so said, they go away. Then the mullahs
and learned men, coming in their turn, say, 'O son of the sultan, if we could have ransomed thee
by knowledge or by eloquence, we would have done so; but all the knowledge and eloquence in
the world cannot arrest the decrees of Allah.' Then they depart. After them come the old men,
who cry, 'If we could have saved thee by groanings and prayers, we would have done so; but our
intercession is useless.' Finally come the young maidens, who say, 'O son of the sultan, if we
could have ransomed thee at the price of beauty and wealth, we would have done it; but the steps
of fate turn aside for neither.' After them the sultan and the vizier enter the tent. The sultan says,
'O my son, I have done all that I could do. I have brought all these soldiers, these mullahs, these
learned men, these old men, these beautiful maidens bearing treasures, and yet I cannot bring
thee back. It depends not on me, but on Him before Whom all power is powerless. May the
mercy of the Lord be multiplied upon thee for another year.' Having thus spoken, they return by
the way they came.'"
Hasan Basri, having heard this, felt stirred to the depths of his heart. Leaving Roum, he retired to
Basra, where he took an oath that he would not smile again till he knew what his eternal destiny
would be.21 He practised the severest asceticism, and many came to hear him preach.
Hasan Basri had a disciple who was in the habit of casting himself on the ground and uttering
groans when he heard the Koran recited. "If thou art able to restrain these groans," said he, "they
will prove like a destructive fire to thee; but if they are really beyond thy power to control, I
declare that I am six stages behind thee in the way of piety. Such groanings," he added, "are
generally the work of Satan."
One day Hasan Basri was preaching when Hejaj ben Yusuf, the bloodthirsty and formidable
governor of Irak, accompanied by a great number of his retinue with drawn swords, entered the
mosque. A person of distinction in the audience said, "We must watch to-day whether Hasan will
be embarrassed by the presence of Hejaj." When the latter had taken his place, Hasan Basri,
without paying the least attention to him, so far from shortening his discourse, prolonged it.
When it was finished, the person who was watching him exclaimed, "Bravo, Hasan!" When he
came down from the pulpit, Hejaj came forward, and, taking him by the hand, said, addressing
the people, "If you wish to see him whom the Lord has distinguished among you, come and look
on Hasan Basri."
Hasan had in his heart such a fear of the Lord that, like a man seated near an executioner, he was
always in a state of apprehension. Seeing one day a man who wept, he asked him what was the
matter. "To-day," answered the man, "I heard a preacher say that there were a great many among
the Moslems who,22 by reason of their sins would remain several years in hell, and then be taken
out." "May God grant," cried Hasan, "that I be one of those who come out of hell at last; may I
be even as that man, who, as the prophet of God said, will come out eighty-four years after all
the rest."
One night he was overheard weeping and groaning in his house. "Why these tears and laments?"
he was asked. "I weep," he answered, "thinking that perhaps to-day I have set my foot in an
unlawful place, or allowed an evil word to escape my lips which will cause me to be chased from
before the throne of the most high. 'Away!' it will be said to me; 'thou hast no access here, thy
works of piety are not accepted.' And what answer shall I make? Behold the reason of my fear."
One of his sayings was, "I never saw a certainty of which there is no doubt bear a greater
resemblance to a doubtful thing of which there is no certainty than death does."
Hasan Basri had a neighbour named Shamaun, who was an infidel and a fire-worshipper. He fell
ill, and his last hour approached. Some one said to Hasan, "Shamaun is your neighbour, and his
last hour is come; why don't you go to see him?" Hasan having come to see him, saw that by
reason of his assiduous fire-worship, his hair and beard were quite blackened by smoke. Hoping
that he would become a Moslem, he said to him, "Come, Shamaun, fear the punishment which
the Lord prepares for thee who hast passed thy life of seventy years in infidelity and fireworship." "As for me," answered Shamaun, "I see on the part of you Moslems three
characteristics23 which I cannot explain, and which hinder me from becoming a Moslem:—(1)
You never cease repeating that the world is perishable and impure, and yet day and night, without
interval or repose, you heap up its treasures; (2) You say that death is certain and inevitable, and
yet you put the thought of it aside, and practise none of the works which should fit you for
another world; (3) You assert your belief that in that world it will be possible to contemplate the
face of the Most High, and yet you commit acts which He abhors." "Thou speakest like one of
the initiated," said Hasan, "but although the faithful commit sins, none the less they confess the
unity and the existence of the Most High, whilst thou hast spent thy life in worshipping the fire.
At the day of judgment, if they cast us both into hell, the fire will carry thee away at once, but if
the grace of the Lord is accorded to me, it will not be able to scorch one of my eyebrows; this
shows that it is only a creature. And, moreover, you have worshipped it for seventy years, and I
have never worshipped it."
These words made such an impression on Shamaun that he made a profession of the faith of
Islam, dying soon afterwards. On the night of his death, Hasan in a dream saw Shamaun wearing
a crown of gold, clothed in raiment of resplendent beauty, and walking in Paradise. "My God,"
he cried when he awoke, "Thou hast had mercy on him who spent seventy years in infidelity; is it
strange that Thou shouldest show mercy to the faithful?"
Hasan was a man of such humility of mind that he considered everyone whom he saw his
superior. One24 day when he was walking along the bank of the river Tigris he saw a negro
seated near a woman; before them was a jar and a cup. Each of them in turn poured from the jar
into the cup and drank. Seeing this man, Hasan, according to his wont, said to himself, "There is
a man better than myself." At the same time he secretly thought, "As regards the observance of
the ceremonial law, it is possible that he is not superior to me, for he is sitting near a woman of
doubtful character and drinking wine." While he was thus reflecting, there appeared on the river
a boat heavily laden, and containing seven persons. Just as it was approaching the shore, it
foundered. The negro, casting himself into the water, drew out six persons in succession; then,
going to Hasan, he said to him, "Rise, if thou art better than I. I have saved six, for my part; thou
save one, for thine." Then he added, "O true believers, this jar contains water, and this woman is
my mother. I have wished to tempt Hasan." Then, addressing the latter, he said, "See, thou hast
looked with the outer eye only, and hast not been capable of looking with the inner eye." At these
words, Hasan, falling at his feet, kissed his hand, and understood that he was one of the Lord's
chosen servants. "Sir," he said, "as thou hast drawn these drowning men from the water so save
me from the abyss of self-worship." The negro replied, "Go, thou art saved." From that time
Hasan considered no one smaller than himself, but everyone his superior.
On one occasion, Hasan Basri said, "I have been startled by the sayings of four persons, (1) a
drunkard, (2) a debauchee, (3) a child, (4) a woman." "How was25 that?" he was asked. "One
day," he said, "I saw a drunkard staggering in the midst of the mire. I said to him, 'Try and walk
so as not to stumble.' 'O Hasan,' the drunkard replied, 'in spite of all your efforts, do you walk
firmly in the way of God? Tell me, yes or no. If I fall in the mire no great harm is done, I can get
rid of it by washing; but if you fall into the pit of self-conceit, you will never emerge clean and
your eternal welfare will be entirely ruined.' These words pierced me to the heart. (2) Again, as I
passed once close to a man of infamous character, I drew my robes close about me lest they
should touch him. 'O Hasan,' he said, 'why draw thy robes away from contact with me. Only the
Most High knows what will be the end of each.' (3) Another time I saw a child coming towards
me holding a lighted torch in his hand. 'Where have you brought this light from?' I asked him. He
immediately blew it out, and said to me, 'O Hasan, tell me where it is gone, and I will tell you
whence I fetched it.' (4) One day a beautiful woman, with her face unveiled, came to me. She had
just been quarrelling with her husband, and no sooner had she met me than she began reporting
his words. 'O woman,' I said, 'first cover thy face and then speak.' 'O Hasan,' she answered, 'In
my excitement I lost reason, and I did not even know that my face was uncovered. If you had not
told me I should have gone thus into the bazaar. But you who with so great zeal cultivate the
friendship of the Most High, ought you not to curb your eye, so as not to see whether my face
was uncovered or not?' Her words sank deeply into my heart."
26One day Hasan said to his friends, "You are like the companions of the prophet, on whom be
peace." They felt immensely gratified at this, but he added, "I mean your faces and beards are
like theirs, but nothing else in you. If you had seen them, such was their absorption in divine
things, you would have thought them mad. Had they seen you, they would not have regarded one
of you as a real Moslem. They, in the practice of the faith, were like horsemen mounted on swift
steeds, or like the wind, or like the bird which cleaves the air; while we progress like men
mounted on donkeys with sores on their backs."
An Arab visiting Hasan Basri asked him for a definition of patience. Hasan answered, "There are
two kinds of patience; one kind consists in bearing afflictions and calamities bravely and in
abstaining from what the Lord has forbidden, the other kind consists in never lending an ear to
the suggestions of Satan." "As for me," said the Arab, "I have never seen anyone more retiring
from the world and more patient than thyself." "Alas," answered Hasan, "my renouncement of
the world and my patience count as nothing." "Why dost thou say so?" exclaimed the Arab.
"Because, if I practise renouncement it is only from dread of hell-fire, and if I keep patient it is
only because I hope to enter Paradise. Now that man alone deserves to be taken into account
who, without self-regarding motives practises patience for the sake of the Most High, and whose
renouncement of the world has not Paradise for its object, but only the desire to please God.
Such a way of acting is a manifest sign of sincerity of heart."
27Asked on another occasion what his spiritual state was like, Hasan replied, "My state is like
that of a man shipwrecked in the sea, who is clinging to a solitary plank."
He never laughed. At the moment of death he smiled once, and called out "What sin? What sin?"
Someone saw him after his death in a dream, and asked him, "O Hasan Basri, thou who never
wert in the habit of smiling, why, when dying, didst thou say with a smile, 'What sin? What sin?'"
Hasan answered, "When I was dying I heard a voice which said, 'O Azrael, hold back his soul a
little longer, it has still one sin,' and in my joy I exclaimed, 'What sin?'"
The night of his death another of his friends had a dream, in which he saw the gates of heaven
open and heard a voice proclaim, "Hasan Basri has come to his Lord, Who is satisfied with him."
8 These and the following eight sketches are taken from Attar's "Tazkirat-ul-auliya."
CHAPTER III
RABIA, THE WOMAN SUFI
Rabia, the daughter of Ismail, a woman celebrated for her holy life, and a native of Basra,
belonged to the tribe of Adi. Al Qushairi says in his treatise on Sufism, "She used to say when
holding converse with God, 'Consume with fire O God, a presumptuous heart which loveth
Thee.' On one of these occasions a voice spoke to her and said, 'That we shall not do. Think not
of us an ill thought.' Often in the silence of the night she would go on the roof of her house and
say, 'The lover is now with his beloved, but I rejoice in being alone with Thee.'"
When Rabia grew up her father and mother died. At that time there was a famine in Basra. She
came into the possession of an evil man, who sold her as a slave. The master who bought her
treated her hardly, and exacted all kinds of menial services from her. One day, when she was
seeking to avoid the rude gaze of a stranger, she slipped on the path and fell, breaking her wrist.
Lying there with her face to the ground, she said "Lord, I am far from my own, a captive and an
orphan, and my wrist has just been broken, and yet none of these things grieve me. Only this one
thought causes me disquiet; it is that I know not if Thou art29 satisfied with me." She then heard
a voice, "Vex not thyself, O Rabia, for at the day of Resurrection We shall give thee such a rank
that the angels nearest Us shall envy thee." Rabia went home with her heart at peace.
One night, Rabia's master being awake, heard the sound of her voice. He perceived Rabia with
her head bent, saying, "My Lord, Thou knowest that the desire of my heart is to seek Thy
approbation, and that its only wish is to obey Thy commands. If I had liberty of action, I would
not remain a single instant without doing Thee service; but Thou hast delivered me into the
hands of a creature, and therefore I am hindered in the same." Her master said to himself that it
was not possible any longer to treat her as a slave, and as soon as daybreak appeared, he said to
her, "O Rabia, I make thee free. If thou desirest, remain here, and we shall be at thy service. If
thou dost not wish to to stay here, go whithersoever it pleaseth thee."
Then Rabia departed from them and devoted herself entirely to works of piety. One day when
she was making the pilgrimage to the Kaaba9 she halted in the desert and exclaimed, "My God,
my heart is a prey to perplexity in the midst of this solitude. I am a stone, and so is the Kaaba;
what can it do for me? That which I need is to contemplate Thy face." At these words a voice
came from the Most High, "O Rabia, wilt thou bear alone that which the whole world cannot?
When Moses desired to see Our Face we showed It to a mountain, which dissolved into a
thousand fragments."
Abda, the servant maid of Rabia, relates as follows, "Rabia used to pass the whole night in
prayer, and 30at morning dawn she took a light sleep in her oratory till daylight, and I have heard
her say when she sprang in dread from her couch, 'O my soul, how long wilt thou sleep? Soon
thou shalt sleep to rise no more, till the call shall summon thee on the day of resurrection.'"
Hasan Basri once asked Rabia if she ever thought of marrying. She answered, "The marriage
contract can be entered into by those who have possession of their free-will. As for me, I have no
will to dispose of; I belong to the Lord, and I rest in the shadow of His commandments, counting
myself as nothing." "But," said Hasan, "how have you arrived at such a degree of piety?" "By
annihilating myself completely."
Being asked on another occasion why she did not marry, she answered, "There are three things
which cause me anxiety." "And what are they?" "One is to know whether at the moment of death
I shall be able to take my faith with me intact. The second is whether in the Day of Resurrection
the register of my actions will be placed in my right hand or not.10 The third is to know, when
some are led to Paradise and some to hell, in which direction I shall be led." "But," they cried,
"none of us know any of these things." "What!" she answered, "when I have such objects to preoccupy my mind, should I think of a husband?"
Someone asked her one day, "Whence comest thou?" "From the other world," was her reply.
"And whither goest thou?" "Into the other world." "And what doest thou in this world." "I jest
with it by eating its bread and doing the works of the other world in it." "O Rabia," said another
to her, "dost 31thou love the Lord?" "Truly," she replied, "I love Him." "And dost thou regard
Satan as an enemy?" "I love the Lord so much," she answered, "that I do not trouble myself
about the enmity of Satan."
One night she saw the Prophet (on whom be peace) in a dream. He saluted her and said, "Rabia,
lovest thou me?" "O Prophet of God," she replied, "is there anyone who does not love thee? Yet
the love of the Most High fills my heart to such a degree that there is no room for love or hatred
towards anyone else."
On one occasion she was asked, "Dost thou see Him Whom thou servest?" "If I did not see Him,"
she said, "I would not serve Him." She was frequently found in tears, and, being asked the reason
why, replied, "I fear that at the last moment a Voice may cry, 'Rabia is not worthy to appear in
Our court.'" The following question was put to her, "If one of His servants truly repents, will the
Lord accept it or not?" "As long as God does not grant repentance," she replied, "how can
anyone repent? And if He does grant it, there is no doubt that he will accept it."
Once when Rabia had immured herself for a long while in her house without coming forth, her
servant said to her, "Lady, come forth out of this house and contemplate the works of the Most
High." "Nay," said Rabia, "enter rather into thyself and contemplate His work in thyself." Having
kept a strict fast for seven days and nights in order to give herself to prayer, on the eighth night
she seemed to hear her emaciated body say, "O Rabia, how long wilt thou torture me without
mercy?" Whilst she was holding this soliloquy32 with herself, suddenly someone knocked at the
door, and a man brought in some food in a bowl. Rabia took it and set it down; then while she
went to light the lamp, a cat came and ate the food. No sooner had Rabia returned and seen what
had happened than she said to herself, "I will break my fast on water." As she went to draw water
her lamp went out. She then uttered a deep sigh, and said, "Lord, why dost thou make me
wretched?" Whereupon she heard a voice saying, "O Rabia, if thou desirest it, I will give thee the
whole world for thine own; but I shall have to take away the love which thou hast for Me from
thy heart, for the love of Me and of the world cannot exist together." "Hearing myself thus
addressed," said Rabia, "I entirely expelled from my heart the love of earthly things, and
resolutely turned my gaze away from them. For thirty years I have not prayed without saying to
myself, 'This prayer, perhaps, is the last which I shall pray,' and I have never been tired of saying,
'My God, let me be so absorbed in Thy love that no other affection may find room in my heart.'"
One day some men of learning and piety came to her and said, "The Most High has crowned His
chosen saints with the gift of performing miracles, but such privileges have never been granted to
a woman. How didst thou attain to such a high degree?" "What you say is true," she answered,
"but, on the other hand, women have never been so infatuated with themselves as men, nor have
they ever claimed divinity."
Hasan Basri relates, "One day when I had been to Rabia who had fallen sick, to ask after her, I
saw seated at her gate a merchant who wept. 'Why are you33 weeping?' I asked him. 'I have just
brought for Rabia,' he answered, 'this purse of gold, and I am troubled in mind, not knowing
whether she will accept it or not. Go in Hasan, and ask whether she will.' Then I went in, and no
sooner had I reported to her the words of this merchant than she said to me, 'Thou knowest well,
O Hasan, that the Most High gives daily bread even to those who do not worship Him; how then
will He not give it to those whose hearts are aglow with love to Him? Besides, ever since I have
known God, I have turned my eyes away from all except Him. How can I accept anyone's money
when I know not whether it has been gained by lawful or unlawful means? Present then my
excuses to this merchant, and let him go.'"
RABIA, THE WOMAN SUFI
--The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mystics and Saints of Islam by Claud Field.
Another merchant visiting Rabia found her house in ill repair. He presented her with a new
house. Rabia had no sooner entered it than, seeing paintings on the wall, she became absorbed in
contemplating them. Recovering herself, she quitted the house, and refused to re-enter it, saying,
"I fear lest my heart may become attached to this house to such a degree that I neglect
preparation for the other world."
One day Abdul Wahid and Sofiân Tsavri went to see Rabia in her illness. They were so touched
by the sight of her weakness that for some moments they could not speak a word. At last Sofiân
said, "O Rabia, pray that the Lord may lighten thy sufferings." "O Sofiân," she answered, "who
has sent me these sufferings?" "The Most High," he said. "Very well," she replied, "if it is his
will that this trial come upon me, how can I, ignoring His will, ask Him to remove it?"
"Rabia,"34 said Sofiân, "I am not capable of talking to thee about thy own affairs; talk to me
about mine." "Well," answered Rabia, "if thou hadst not an inclination to this low world, thou
wouldst be a man without fault." "Then," relates Sofiân, "I cried with tears, 'My God, canst Thou
be satisfied with me?'" "O Sofiân," said Rabia, "dost thou not blush at saying to the Lord, 'Canst
Thou be satisfied with me?' without having done a single thing to please him?"
Malik Dinar recounts the following: "I went to see Rabia, and found her drinking water out of a
broken pitcher. She was lying stretched on an old mat, with a brick for her pillow. I was pierced
to the heart at the sight, and said, "O Rabia, I have rich friends; if you will let me, I will go and
ask them for something for you." "You have spoken ill, Malik," she replied; 'it is the Lord who,
to them as to me, gives daily bread. He Who provides for the needs of the rich, shall He not
provide for the necessities of the poor? If He wills that it should be thus with us, we shall gladly
submit to His will.'"
On one occasion when Malik Dinar, Hasan Basri and Shaqiq were with her, the conversation
turned on sincerity of heart towards God. Hasan Basri said, "He has not sincere love to God who
does not bear with constancy the afflictions which the Lord sends him." "That remark savours of
self-conceit," said Rabia. Shaqiq observed, "He is not sincere who does not render thanks for
afflictions." "There is a higher degree of sincerity than that," said Rabia. Malik Dinar suggested,
"He is not sincere who does not find delight in the afflictions which the Lord sends." "That35 is
not the purest sincerity," she remarked. Then they asked her to define sincerity. She said, "He is
not sincere who does not forget the pain of affliction through his absorption in God."
One of the learned theologians of Basra, once visiting Rabia, began to enlarge upon the defects
of the world. "You must be very fond of the world," said Rabia, "for if you were not, you would
not talk so much about it. He who really intends to buy something keeps on discussing it. If you
were really disentangled from it, what would you care about its merits or its faults?"
Other sayings of Rabia were these, "My God, if on the day of judgment Thou sendest me to hell,
I shall reveal a secret which will make hell fly far from me." "O Lord, give all Thou destinest for
me of the goods of this world to Thy enemies, and all that Thou reservest for me in Paradise to
Thy friends, for it is Thou only Whom I seek." "My God, if it is from fear of hell that I serve
Thee, condemn me to burn in hell; and if it is for the hope of Paradise, forbid me entrance there;
but if it is for Thy sake only, deny me not the sight of Thy face."
Rabia died a.d. 752, and was buried near Jerusalem. Her tomb was a centre of pilgrimage during
the Middle Ages.
9 The sacred shrine at Mecca.
10 A sign the person is acquitted.
CHAPTER IV
IBRAHIM BEN ADHAM PRINCE OF BALKH (d 875)
Ibrahim Ben Adham was originally Prince of the city of Balkh, and had control of the riches of
many provinces. One night when he was in bed he heard a sound of footsteps on the roof of his
palace. "Who are you on the roof?" he cried out. An answer came, "I have lost a camel, and I am
looking for it on this roof." "Well," he said, "you must be a fool for your pains, to look for a
camel on a roof." "And thou, witless man," returned the voice, "is it while seated on a throne of
gold that thou expectest to find the Most High? That is far madder than to seek a camel on a
roof." At these words, fear seized the heart of Ibrahim, who spent the rest of the night in prayer,
till the early dawn. The next morning he took his seat upon his throne, round which were ranged
all the grandees of his kingdom and his guards, according to their rank, in the usual manner. All
of a sudden Ibrahim perceived in the midst of the crowd a majestic figure, who advanced
towards him unseen by the rest. When he had come near, Ibrahim asked him, "Who art thou, and
what hast thou come to seek here?" "I am a stranger," he answered, "and I wish to stay at this
inn." "But this is not an inn," answered Ibrahim, "it is my own house." "To whom did it37 belong
before thee?" inquired the stranger. "To my father." "And before thy father, to whom did it
belong?" "To my grandfather." "And where are thy ancestors now?" "They are dead." "Well then,
is this house anything but an hotel, where the coming guest succeeds to the departing one?" So
saying, the stranger began to withdraw. Ibrahim rose, ran toward him, and said, "I adjure thee to
stop, in the name of the Most High." The stranger paused. "Who art thou," cried Ibrahim, "who
hast lit this fire in my soul?" "I am Khizr, O Ibrahim. It is time for thee to awake." So saying, he
disappeared. Ibrahim, pierced with sorrow, awoke from his trance, and felt a keen disdain for all
earthly grandeur.
The next morning, being mounted and going to the chase, he heard a voice which said, "O
Ibrahim, thou wast not created for this." He looked round him on all sides, but could see no one,
and went on again. Presently again the voice was heard, proceeding, as it were, from his saddle,
"O Ibrahim, thou wast not created for this." Struck to the heart, Ibrahim exclaimed, "It is the
Lord who commands; His servant will obey." He thereupon dismounted, exchanged clothes with
a shepherd whom he discovered close by, and began to lead the life of a wandering dervish, and
became famous for his devoutness and austerity.
After some years, he undertook the pilgrimage to Mecca, and joined a caravan which was bound
thither. The news of his coming having reached the chief men of the city, they all came out to
meet him. Some of their servants, going on, met Ibrahim (whom, of course, they did not know),
and asked him if Ibrahim ben38 Adham was approaching. "Why do you ask me?" he said.
"Because the chief men of the city are come out to meet him." "And why make so much ado
about that man," he said, "who is a sinner and an infidel?" "What right hast thou to speak thus of
him?" they cried; and, seizing him, handled him roughly. After having beaten him they went on
their way. Ibrahim said to himself, "Thou hast had thy deserts." When he was recognised
afterwards, an ample apology was made to him, and he was conducted to Mecca, where he
remained several years, supporting himself by money earned by his daily toil.
When Ibrahim left Balkh, he had a son who was then a child. When the latter became a young
man, he asked, "Where is my father?" Whereupon his mother told him all that had occurred to
his father. "Well," said the youth, "where is he to be found now?" "At Mecca," his mother
answered. "Very well, I will go to Mecca," he replied, "and find my father." He set out, and when
he arrived there, he found in the sacred precinct surrounding the Kaaba many fakirs clothed with
rags. "Do you know Ibrahim ben Adham?" he asked them. "He is one of ourselves," one of them
answered; "he has gone to gather and sell wood wherewith to buy bread and bring it us." The
younger Ibrahim immediately went out of the city to seek his father. Presently he found an old
man carrying a bundle of wood on his head, whom he recognised as his father. At this sight he
was near weeping, but controlled himself, and walked behind him unobserved.
As for Ibrahim ben Adham, he carried his wood to the bazaar, sold it, and bought bread, which
he took39 to his fellow-fakirs, and then performed his devotions. On the other hand, his son did
not disclose himself, for he feared that to do so suddenly would cause his father to fly.
The next morning one of Ibrahim ben Adham's fellow-fakirs rose and went to his son's tent. He
found the young man reading the Koran and weeping. The fakir advanced and saluted him,
asking, "Who art thou? Whence comest thou? Whose son art thou?" "I am the son of Ibrahim ben
Adham," replied the young man, "and I was never able to see my father until now; but I fear that
if I make myself known to him, he will repulse me brusquely and flee away." "Come," said the
fakir, "I will myself lead you to him."
Without further delay the wife and son of Ibrahim joined the fakir, and went to seek him. No
sooner had his wife perceived him than she uttered a cry and said, "My son, behold thy father."
All the bystanders burst into tears, while Ibrahim's son fell down in a swoon. When he came to
himself he saluted his father, who returned his greeting, embraced him, and said, "O my son, of
what religion art thou?" "Of the religion of Muhammad," he answered. "God be praised!"
exclaimed Ibrahim. Then he asked, "Dost thou know the Koran?" "I know it," was the reply.
"Dost thou read the books which treat of religious knowledge?" "I read them." "God be praised!"
again exclaimed Ibrahim. Then he prepared to leave them and depart, but his wife and son would
not let him, and began to weep. But Ibrahim, lifting up his eyes to heaven, prayed, "My God,
come to my help," on which his son immediately died. The companions40 of Ibrahim asked him,
"What is the meaning of this?" "When I saw my son," he answered, "my paternal tenderness was
aroused. But immediately I heard a voice, 'What, Ibrahim! Dost thou pretend attachment to Us
while all the while thy heart is engaged with another person? How can two loves co-exist in one
heart?' On hearing this, I prayed to the Lord and said, 'O my God, if my love to this child makes
Thee withdraw from me, take his soul or mine.' My prayer was heard, and He has taken the soul
of my son." On one occasion Ibrahim is reported to have said, "Many nights in succession I
sought to find the Kaaba unoccupied. One night when it was raining very hard, I at last found it
so. I entered it, and lifting my heart to God, I said, 'O God, blot out my sins,' upon which I heard
a Voice, which said, 'O Ibrahim, all over the world men ask Us the same thing; but if We blot out
everyone's sins, whom shall We cause to share in the ocean of Our mercy?'" On another occasion
he was asked, "Why hast thou given up thy rank and thy kingdom?" "One day," he said, "When I
was seated on my throne, I looked at a mirror. I saw reflected in it my last resting-place, which
was an obscure tomb, wherein I had no one to keep me company. The road whereby to reach the
other world was long, nay infinite, and I had no provision for the way. I saw besides an upright
judge, who questioned me so rigorously that I could return him no fit answer. Behold why my
rank and my kingdom lost all value in my eyes, and why I abandoned them." "But why,"
continued the questioner, "didst thou flee Khorasan?" "Because," he said, "they kept41 on
questioning me." "And why dost thou not marry?" "Is there any woman who would marry a man
like myself, who am always hungry and naked? If I could, I would divorce myself; how then can
I attach anyone to myself?"
Once Ibrahim asked a dervish, "Have you a wife and children?" "No," answered the dervish. "It
is all then well for thee." "Why so?" asked the dervish. "Because," said Ibrahim, "everytime a
dervish marries he is like one who embarks on a vessel, but when children are born to him he is
like one who is drowning."
Seeing a dervish groaning, he said, "Doubtless thou hast bought this position of dervish at a low
price." "What, Ibrahim," answered the other, "can the position of dervish be bought?"
"Certainly," answered Ibrahim; "I have bought it at the price of royalty, and I find I have made a
good bargain."
One day a man brought to Ibrahim a sum of a thousand pieces of gold, which he had vowed to
offer him. "I do not take anything from the wretched," the latter said. "But," said the other, "I am
a rich man." "What," answered Ibrahim, "you are as rich as that, and still seek to increase your
wealth?" "As a matter of fact, I do." "Well then, you are more wretched than anyone," and he
added, "Listen! I possess nothing, and I ask nothing of anyone. I have aspired after the condition
of a dervish and found riches in it; others have aspired after riches and found poverty." Another
person also offered Ibrahim a thousand pieces of gold, which he refused, saying, "You wish
doubtless by means of this gold to erase my name from the list of dervishes."
42Every day Ibrahim worked for hire, and whatever he earned he spent on provisions to take to
his companions; then they all broke their fast together. He never returned in any case till he had
performed his evening devotions. One day when he had been absorbed in them, he returned later
than usual. His companions, who were waiting for him, said to themselves, "We had better break
our fast and all go to bed. When Ibrahim sees what we have done, he will come earlier another
time, and not keep us waiting." Accordingly, they all ate and lay down. When Ibrahim came and
saw them asleep, he said to himself, "Perhaps they have gone to bed hungry." He had brought
with him a little meal, which he made into dough; then he blew up the fire, and cooked supper
for his companions. They then rose and said to him, "What are you doing, Ibrahim?" "I am
cooking something for you, for it has occurred to me that perhaps you have gone to bed without
taking anything." They looked at each other, and said, "See, while we were plotting against him,
he was engaged in thinking for us."
One day a man came to Ibrahim and said, "O Ibrahim, I have done myself a great deal of harm
(by sin). Give me some advice." "Listen then," said Ibrahim, "here are six rules for you. First:
When you have committed a sin, do not eat the food which the Lord sends you." "But I cannot
live without food," said the other. "What!" exclaimed Ibrahim, "is it just that you should profit by
what the Lord supplies while you do not serve Him and never cease to offend Him?" Second:
"When you are on the point of committing a sin, quit the Kingdom of the43 Most High." "But,"
said the man, "His Kingdom extends from the East to the West; how can I go out of it?" "Very
well, remain in it; but give up sin, and don't be rebellious." Third: "When you are about to sin,
place thyself where the Most High cannot see you." "But one cannot hide anything from Him."
"Very well then," said Ibrahim, "is it right that you should live on what He supplies, and that you
should dwell in His Kingdom, and commit evil actions under His eyes?" Fourth: "When Azrael,
the Angel of Death, comes to claim your soul, say to him, 'Give me a respite, I wish to repent.'"
"But how will Azrael listen to such a prayer?" "If it is so," replied Ibrahim, "repent now, so as not
to have to do so when Azrael comes." Fifth: "When you are placed in the tomb, dismiss the
angels Munkir and Nakir,11 who will come to examine thee." "But I cannot." "Very well, live
such a life as to be able to reply satisfactorily to them." Sixth: "On the Day of Judgment, when
the order goes forth to conduct sinners to hell, say you won't go." "It suffices, Ibrahim, you have
said enough." The man repented, and the fervour of his conversion lasted till his death.
Ibrahim is said to have told the following story. "One day I went to glean, but as soon as I put
any ears of corn in the lappet of my robe they were shaken out. This happened something like
forty times. At last I cried, 'What does this mean, O Lord?' I heard a Voice say in reply, 'O,
Ibrahim, in the time of your prosperity forty bucklers of red gold were carried in 44front of thee.
It was necessary that you should be thus molested as a requital for the luxury of those forty
golden bucklers.'"
Once Ibrahim was entrusted with the charge of an orchard. The owner one day came down to
visit it, and told Ibrahim to bring him some sweet pomegranates. Ibrahim went and gathered the
largest he could find, but they all proved to be bitter. "What!" said the owner, "you have eaten
these pomegranates so long, and cannot distinguish the sweet from the bitter?" "Sir," replied
Ibrahim, "you told me to take charge of the orchard, but you did not tell me to eat the
pomegranates." "Ah," replied the other, "to judge by your austerity, you must be no other than
Ibrahim ben Adham." The latter, seeing that he was discovered, left the orchard and departed.
A story told by Ibrahim was as follows. "One night I saw in a dream Gabriel, with a piece of
paper in his hand. 'What are you doing?' I asked him. 'I am writing on this sheet of paper the
names of the friends of the Lord.' 'Will you write mine among them?' Ibrahim asked. 'But you are
not one of His friends.' 'If I am not one of His friends, at least I am a friend of His friends.'
Immediately a Voice was heard, 'O Gabriel, write Ibrahim's name on the first line, for he who
loves Our friends is Our friend.'"12
Once while Ibrahim was walking in the country, a horseman met him and asked him who he was,
"I am," answered Ibrahim, "the servant of the Most High." "Well," said the horseman, "direct me
to the nearest dwellings." Ibrahim pointed to the cemetery. "You are jesting at me," the other
cried, and struck him on the head so severely that the blood began to flow. Then he tied a cord
round his neck, and dragged him forcibly into the middle of the neighbouring town. The people
cried out "Madman, what are you doing? It is Ibrahim ben Adham." Immediately the horseman
prostrated himself before Ibrahim and implored his pardon. "O Ibrahim," he said, "when I asked
you where were the nearest dwellings, why did you point to the cemetery?" "Every day," he
answered, "the cemetery becomes more and more peopled, while the town and its most
flourishing quarters are continually falling into ruins."
When Ibrahim's last hour arrived, he disappeared from sight, and no one has been able to say
exactly where his tomb is. Some say it is at Bagdad, others at Damascus, others at Pentapolis.
When he died, a Voice was heard saying, "The man who excelled all others in faith is dead;
Ibrahim ben Adham has passed away."
11 According to the Mahommadan belief every man as soon as he is buried is examined by these
two angels.
12 Leigh Hunt's well known poem refers to this:
"Abou ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And
saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing
in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room
he said: "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And with a look made all of sweet
accord, Answered "The names of those who love the Lord," "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay
not so," Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low But cheerily still; and said: "I pray thee then
Write me as one that loves his fellow men." The angel wrote and vanished. The next night He
came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blest,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest."
46
CHAPTER V
FUDHAYL BEN AYAZ, THE HIGHWAYMAN (d 803 ad)
In the beginning of his career Fudhayl ben Ayaz was a highwayman, and used to pitch his tent on
the plains between Merv and Abiwerd. He had collected many other robbers round him; when
they brought in booty, he, as their chief, apportioned it. He never neglected saying the Friday
prayers, and dismissed any of his servants whom he found neglecting them.
One day his men were lying in wait on the high road when a numerous caravan arrived and fell
into their clutches. In this caravan was a merchant who had a large sum of money in his purse.
Desirous of hiding it, he fled towards the open plain; there he found a tent and a man clothed in
coarse garments seated in it. The merchant, having explained the matter to him, was told to leave
his money there. He did so, and returned to the caravan. When he got there he saw that the
robbers had attacked it and taken all the goods, after having bound and laid on the earth all the
travellers. He ransomed them, and helped them to gather together the remains of their property.
When he returned to the tent he found the robbers there dividing their booty. Seeing this, he said,
"Woe is me! Then he whom I trusted my money to was a robber." He was on the point of
departing when Fudhayl called out to him, "What is the matter?" "I had come,"47 he answered,
"to take back my money which I had deposited here." "Well," said Fudhayl, "you will find it
where you placed it." The merchant did so. "But," cried Fudhayl's companions, "we did not find
any coined money at all in this caravan; how is it that you hand over such a large sum?" "This
man," answered Fudhayl, "has trusted me in the simplicity of his heart; now I, in the simplicity
of my heart, trust in the Lord; and just as I have justified the good opinion which the merchant
had of me, I hope the Lord will justify that which I have of Him."
The conversion of Fudhayl to an ascetic life took place in the following manner. As he was
climbing over a wall to see a girl whom he loved, he heard a voice pronounce this verse of the
Koran: "Is not the time yet come unto those who believe that their hearts should humbly submit
to the admonition of God?"13 On this he exclaimed, "O Lord, that time is come." He then went
away from the place, and the approach of night induced him to repair for shelter to a ruined
edifice. A caravan was encamped not far off, and Fudhayl heard one of the travellers say to
another, "We must rise and be going, lest Fudhayl should arrive and rob us." Fudhayl then came
forward and said, "I have good news for you. Fudhayl has entered upon the path of penitence,
and is more likely to flee from you than you from him." Then he departed, after having asked
their pardon for his former misdeeds. For some time he resided at Mecca, where he received
instruction from Abou Hanifeh, and subsequently returned to his own country, where his sanctity
became widespread.
It is related that one night the Caliph Harun-al-Rashid said to Fazl the Barmecide, "Take me to a
man by whose aid I may rise out of the moral torpor into which I have fallen." Fazl took him to
the door of a celebrated ascetic, Sofyan ibn Oyaina, who asked on their knocking, "Who is
there?" "The Prince of the Faithful," answered Fazl. "Why did you not send for me?" said
Sofyan, "I would have come myself in person to serve him." Al-Rashid, hearing this, said, "This
is not the man I seek." They then departed, and knocked at the door of Fudhayl. As they arrived,
the latter was reciting the following verse of the Koran: "Do those who have done evil imagine
that we shall set them on the same level with those who have done well?" Koran (Sura xlv., v.
20). The Caliph had no sooner heard this verse than he said, "If it is good advice we are seeking,
here is enough for us." Then they knocked at the door. "Who is there?" asked Fudhayl. "The
Prince of the Faithful," Fazl answered. "What do you want?" was the reply; "I have nothing to do
with you, leave me alone and don't waste my time." "But you should treat the Caliph with
honour, and let us in." "It is for you to come in if you must, in spite of me," answered Fudhayl.
When the Caliph and his attendant entered, Fudhayl extinguished the lamp in order not to see the
intruders. Harun-al-Rashid, having touched Fudhayl's hand in the dark, the latter exclaimed,
"How soft this hand is; may it escape hell fire." Having thus spoken, he rose to pray. As for the
Caliph, he began to weep, and said, "Speak to me at least one word." Fudhayl, when he had
finished his prayers, said to him, "O Harun,49 thy ancestor Abbas, who was the paternal uncle of
the Prophet (on whom be peace!) said to him one day, O Prophet of God, make me ruler over a
nation. The Prophet replied, I have made thee ruler over thyself. If thou rulest thine own body
and keepest it constant in the service of the Lord, that is better than ruling a nation for a thousand
years. Again, Omar, the son of Abd al Aziz, being installed on the throne of the Caliphate, sent
for three of his intimate friends, and said to them, 'Behold me caught in the toils of the Caliphate;
how shall I get rid of them? Many people consider power a blessing; I regard it as a calamity.'"
Then Fudhayl added, "O Harun, if thou wishest to escape the punishment of the Day of
Judgment, regard each old man among the Moslems as thy father, the young men as thy brothers,
the women as thy sisters. O Harun, I fear lest thy handsome visage be scorched by the flames of
hell. Fear the Most High, and know that He will interrogate thee on the Day of Resurrection." At
these words, Harun-al-Rashid wept copiously. Then Fazl said to Fudhayl, "Say no more; you
have killed the Caliph with grief." "Oh Haman!"14 Fudhayl answered, "it is not I, it is thou and
thy relations who have misled the Caliph and destroyed him." Hearing these words, Harun-alRashid wept still more bitterly, and said to Fazl, "Be silent! If he has called you Haman, he has
(tacitly) compared me to Pharaoh." Then, addressing Fudhayl, he asked him, "Have you any debt
to pay?" "Yes," he answered, "that of the service which I 50owe to the Most High. He furnishes
me with subsistence, I have no need to borrow." Then Harun-al-Rashid placed in Fudhayl's hand
a purse in which were a thousand pieces of gold, saying, "This money is lawfully acquired, I
have inherited it from my mother." "Ah!" exclaimed Fudhayl, "my advice has been wasted; my
object in giving it was to lighten thy burden; thou seekest to make mine more heavy." At these
words, Harun-al-Rashid rose, saluted him, and departed. All the way home he kept repeating to
himself, "This Fudhayl is a great teacher." On another occasion the Caliph is reported to have
said to Fudhayl, "How great is thy self-abnegation," to which Fudhayl made answer, "Thine is
greater." "How so?" said the Caliph. "Because I make abnegation of this world, and thou makest
abnegation of the next; now this world is transitory, and the next will endure for ever."
Sofian Tsavri relates the following anecdote. "One night I was talking with Fudhayl, and after we
had been conversing on all kinds of subjects, I said to him, 'What a pleasant evening we have
had, and what interesting conversation.' 'No,' he said, 'neither the evening nor the conversation
have been good.' 'Why so?' I remarked. 'Because,' he said, 'you sought to speak words which
might please me, and I sought to answer so as to gratify you. Both of us, pre-occupied with our
talk, had forgotten the Most High. It would be better for each of us to sit still in his place and to
lift up his heart towards God.'"
A stranger coming to Fudhayl one day was asked by the latter for what purpose he came. "I
have51 come," he answered, "to talk with you, and to find in so doing calm of mind," "That is to
say," broke in Fudhayl, "you wish to mislead me with lies, and desire me to do the same to you.
Be off about your business."
15But with all his austerity of life, his prolonged fasts and watchings, his ragged dress and
wearisome pilgrimages, he preferred the practice of interior virtue and purity of intention to all
outward observances, and used often to say that "he who is modest and compliant to others and
lives in meekness and patience gains a higher reward by so doing than if he fasted all his days
and watched in prayer all his nights." At so high a price did he place obedience to a spiritual
guide, and so necessary did he deem it, that he declared, "Had I a promise of whatever I should
ask in prayer, yet would I not offer that prayer save in union with a superior."
But his favourite virtue was the love of God in perfect conformity to His will above all hope or
fear. Thus, when his only son (whose virtues resembled his father's) died in early age, Fudhayl
was seen with a countenance of unusual cheerfulness, and, being asked by his intimate disciple,
Abou Ali, the reason wherefore, he answered, "It was God's good pleasure, and it is therefore my
good pleasure also."
Others of his sayings are the following: "To leave aught undone for the esteem of men is
hypocrisy, and to do ought for their esteem is idolatry." "Much is he beguiled who serves God for
fear or hope, for His true service is for mere love." "I serve God because I cannot help serving
Him for very love's sake."
13 Koran, Sura 57, v 15.
14 According to the Koran, Haman was the vizier of Pharaoh whom he misled by bad advice.
15 Vide Palgrave: "Asceticism among Mohammedan nations."
52
CHAPTER VI
BAYAZID BASTAMI (d 874 ad)
Bayazid Bastami, whose grandfather was a Zoroastrian converted to Islam, was distinguished for
his piety while still a child. His mother used to send him regularly to the mosque to read the
Koran with a mullah. When he reached the chapter "Luqman," he read the verse, "Show thy
gratitude in serving Me, and show thy gratitude to thy parents in serving them." He asked his
teacher the meaning of the verse, and had no sooner heard it explained than he immediately ran
home. When she saw him, his mother said, "Why have you come home so early, my child? Have
they sent you for the fees?" "Mother," answered Bayezid, "I have just read the verse in which the
Lord commands me to serve Him, and to serve thee; but, as I cannot serve in two places at once,
I have come to propose to you that you should ask the Lord to give me to you in order that I may
serve you, or that you should yourself give me to the Lord that I may serve Him." "Since that is
the case," said his mother, "I give you up to the Lord, and renounce all my rights over you."
Accordingly, a few years afterwards, Bayazid left his native village Bastam, and for thirty years
lived as a bare-footed ascetic in the deserts of Syria. Once53 during this time Bayazid came
home and listened at the door of his mother's house before going in. He heard her saying in
prayer, "May God bless my poor exile, may the hearts of the pious be rejoiced by him and accord
him grace." Bayazid, hearing these words, wept, and knocked at the door. "Who is there?" she
asked. "Thy exile," he answered. No sooner had she opened the door than, embracing Bayazid,
she said to him, weeping, "O my son, separated from thee as I have been, my eyes have lost the
power to see, and my back is bent," and they both mingled their tears together.
Some time after Bayazid said to a friend, "What I ought to have known most clearly is just what
I have only learnt when too late—to serve my mother. That which I sought in devoting myself to
so many religious exercises, in putting myself at the service of others, and in exiling myself far
from my kindred and my country, see, how I have discovered it. One night when my mother
asked for water, as there was none in the pitcher, I went to the canal to draw some. It was a
winter night, and the frost was very sharp. While I had gone for the water, my mother had fallen
asleep again. I stood waiting with the full pitcher in my hand till she should awake. When she did
so, she asked for water, but when I wished to give it her, I found that the water was frozen, and
the handle of the jug stuck fast to my hand. 'Why,' said my mother, 'did you not put it down?'
'Because I feared,' I answered, 'not to be ready when you asked for it.' That same night the Lord
revealed to me all that I wanted to know."
54Bayazid used to tell the following story. "A man came to see me, and asked where I was going.
'I am going to Mecca,' I said, 'to make the circuit of the Kaaba.'16 'How much money hast thou?'
he asked. 'Two hundred pieces of gold,' I answered. 'Very well,' he said, 'give them me and walk
seven times round me. By this act of charity thou wilt deserve a greater recompense than thou
wouldest obtain at the Kaaba.'17 I did as he asked, and that year I did not make the pilgrimage."
One day the thought crossed Bayazid's mind that he was the greatest Sufi of the age. But no
sooner had it done so, than he understood it was an aberration on his part. "I rose immediately,"
he said, "and went some way into the desert of Khorassan, where I sat down. I took then the
resolution of not moving from the spot where I was seated till the Lord should send me someone
who would make me see myself as I really was. I waited thus for three days and three nights. On
the fourth night a rider on a camel approached. I perceived on his countenance the marks of a
penetrating mind. He halted, and, fixing his eyes on me, said, 'Thou desirest doubtless, that in the
twinkling of an eye I should cause to be swallowed up the village of Bastam and all its
population, together with its riches, and Bayazid himself.' At these words I was seized with an
indescribable fear, and asked him, 'Whence comest thou?' 'O Bayazid,' he answered, 'while thou
hast been seated here I have travelled 55three thousand miles. Take care, O Bayazid, to place a
curb on thy heart, and not to forget the road; else shalt thou infallibly perish.' Then he turned his
back and departed."
One night Bayazid, having gone out of his house, went to the burial-ground to perform his
devotions. There he found a young man playing a guitar, who came towards him. Bayazid,
considering music unlawful, exclaimed, "There is no might or power except in God."18 The
young man, irritated, struck the head of Bayazid with his guitar, breaking it, and wounding him.
Bayazid returned home. The next morning very early he placed some sweetmeats and some
pieces of gold in a dish and sent it to the young man, charging the messenger to say from him,
"Last night you broke your guitar by striking my head with it; take, therefore, this money, buy
another guitar, and eat the sweetmeats so that there may remain no rancour in your heart." When
he had received the message, the young man came in tears to Bayazid, asked his pardon, and
repented.
On another occasion, Bayezid was saying his prayers in company with a friend. When they had
finished their devotions, his friend said to him, "Tell me, Bayazid, you do not ask anything of
anyone, you do not engage in any industry; whence do you get your provision?" "Wait a little,"
said Bayazid, "I am going to say my prayers again." "Why?" "Because it is unlawful to pray with
a man who does not know Who is the Bestower of daily bread."
Hatim Assam used to say to his disciples, "If, on the Day of Judgment you do not intercede for
those who will be conducted to hell, you are not my disciples." Bayazid, having heard this, said
in his turn, "Those only are my disciples who, on the Day of Judgment, will stand on the brink of
hell, in order to seize and save the wretches cast down thither, even were it necessary to enter
hell themselves for the salvation of the others."
Bayazid related as follows. "One day I heard a Voice, which said, 'O Bayazid, our treasure-house
is brimmed full with acts of adoration and devotion offered by men; bring Us something which is
not in Our treasury.' 'But, O God,' I cried, 'what then shall I bring?' And the voice answered me,
'Bring Me sorrow of heart, humility, contrition.'"
Another time he said, "After having endured the rigours of asceticism for forty years, one night I
found myself before the doors and curtains which hide the throne of God. 'For pity's sake,' I
exclaimed, groaning, 'let me pass.' 'O Bayazid,' cried a Voice, 'you still possess a pitcher and an
old cloak; you cannot pass.' Then I cast away the pitcher and the cloak, and I heard the Voice
again address me, 'O Bayazid, go and say to those who do not know: "Behold, for forty years I
have practised rigorous asceticism. Well, till I cast away my broken pitcher and torn cloak, I
could not find access to God; and you, who are entangled in the ties of worldly interests, how
shall you discover the way to Him?"'"
One night, after having said his evening prayer, Bayazid remained standing till the morning,
and57 shedding tears. When morning came, his servant asked him, "What has happened to you
to-night?" "Methought I had arrived at the throne of God," replied Bayazid, and I said to it, 'O
Throne, we are taught that the Lord rests on thee.' 'O Bayazid,' replied the throne, 'it is said here
that the Lord dwells in a humble heart; but where is the intelligence capable of penetrating this
mystery? Heavenly beings question earthly ones concerning it, and they only cast the question
back.'
Bayazid said once, "When I had arrived at the station of Proximity, I heard a Voice say to me, 'O
Bayazid, ask what thou hast to ask.' 'My God,' I answered, 'Thou art the Object of my desire.' 'O
Bayazid,' the Voice replied, 'if there lingers in thee an atom of earthly desire, and till thou art
reduced to nothing in the station of Annihilation, thou canst not find Me.' 'My God,' I answered,
'I shall not return from Thy Court empty-handed; I wish to ask something from Thee.' 'Very well,
ask it.' 'Grant me mercy for all men.' The Voice said, 'O Bayazid lift up thine eyes.' I lifted them,
and I saw that the Most High was far more inclined to have mercy on His servants than I. 'Lord,'
I cried, 'have mercy on Satan.' 'O Bayazid,' the Voice answered, 'Satan is made of fire, and fire
must needs go to the fire. Take heed lest thou thyself deserve to go there.'"
One day, when Bayazid was walking along the road, a young man who followed him closely,
setting his feet in his tracks, said to him, "Tear off a piece of thy cloak and give it me, in order
that thy blessing may rest upon me." Bayazid answered, "Although thou58 strip Bayazid of his
skin and clothe thyself with it, it will profit thee nothing, unless thou reproduce the actions of
Bayazid."
Amongst other remarkable utterances of Bayazid are the following. "When from hatred to the
world I fled to the Lord, His love so filled my heart that I hated myself." "He who relies on his
acts of piety is worse than he who commits sin." "There are those among the servants of the Lord
who would utter groans like the damned in hell if one put them in possession of the eight
paradises without Him." "A single grain of the love of Cod is worth more than a hundred
thousand paradises." "He whom the Lord loves is known by three distinct signs—his liberality is
like the sea, his kindness is like the sun, his humility is like the earth, which allows itself to be
trampled on by everyone." "Whoso has the knowledge of the Lord receives from Him intuitional
wisdom in such a manner that he needs not to have recourse to anyone to learn anything."
Being asked his age, he replied, "I am four years old." "How is that, Sheikh?" they said. "For
seventy years," he said, "I have been enveloped in the veils of this dull world; it is only four
years since I disentangled myself from them and see God." Being asked to define Sufism, he
said, "Sufism consists in giving up repose, and accepting suffering."
In the last moments of his life he put on a girdle and seated himself in the "mihrab"19 of the
mosque. Then, turning his cloak and cap inside out, he said, 59"My God, I ask for no reward for
the austerities I have practised all my life. I say nothing of the prayers which I have prayed
during whole nights, of the fasts I have kept during the day, of the number of times I have said
the Koran through. O my God, thou knowest that I think nothing of the works which I have done,
and that so far from putting trust in them, I would rather forget them. Besides, is it not thou who
hast covered my nakedness with the raiment of these good works? As for me, I consider myself
as a fire-worshipper who has grown to old age in a state of infidelity. But now I say 'Allah!
Allah!' and I cut the girdle of the idolator. I enter Islam as a new proselyte, and I repeat the
profession of the Moslem faith. I reckon all that I have done nothing. Deign, for Thy mercy's
sake, to blot out all my evil deeds and transgressions." When he was dying, he again ejaculated
"Allah! Allah!" Then he cried, "My God, I have passed my life in neglect of thee; I have not
served Thee faithfully," and expired.
16 Pilgrims at Mecca go round the Kaaba seven times.
17 An allusion to the mystics' doctrine that man himself is the true Kaaba or House of God.
18 A formula used by devout Mussalmen at the sight of anything evil.
19 The "Mihrab" is the niche or apse in the wall of the mosque facing towards Mecca.
60
CHAPTER VII
ZU'N NUN OF EGYPT (d 860 ad)
Ibn Khalliqan, the historian, calls Zu'n Nun "the first person of his age for learning, devotion and
communion with the Divinity." His father, who was a native of Nubia, was a slave, enfranchised
and adopted by the tribe of Koraish. Zu'n Nun, being asked why he had renounced the world,
said, "I went forth from Misr (Egypt) journeying to a certain village, and I fell asleep in one of
the deserts on the way. And my eye was opened, and lo, a little bird, still blind, fell from its nest
to the ground. Then the ground split open and two trays came forth, one of gold, the other of
silver; in one was sesame, and in the other water; and the bird ate of that, and drank of this.
'That', said I, 'is a sufficient warning for me; I renounce the world.' And then I did not quit the
door of divine mercy till I was let in."
Having been denounced by his enemies to the Caliph Mutawakkil of Bagdad, he was summoned
from Egypt to appear before him. On entering into his presence, he addressed a pious exhortation
to the Caliph, who shed tears, and dismissed him honourably. After this, whenever men of piety
were spoken of before the61 Caliph, he would weep and say, "Speaking of pious men, let me
have Zu'n Nun."
At Cairo, however, Z'un Nun did not come off so easily. He openly rebuked the vices of the
inhabitants, and especially of the local governors, who caused him to be beaten and imprisoned.
"All this is as nothing, so I be not separated from thee, O my God," was his exclamation while
dragged through the crowded street with blows and insults by the soldiers of the garrison.
Zu'n Nun related the following story of himself. "One day I saw a beautiful palace on the bank of
a river where I was performing my devotions. On the roof of this palace I perceived a lovely
maiden. Curious of learning who she was, I approached and asked her the name of her master.
She answered, 'O Zu'n Nun when you were still a great way off, I took you for a madman, when
you came nearer, for a religious man, when you came still nearer, for one of the initiated. I now
perceive that you are neither mad, nor religious, nor initiated. If you had been mad, you would
not have engaged in religious exercises; if you had been religious, you would not have looked at
a person whom you ought not to approach; if you had been initiated, nothing would have drawn
your attention away from God.' So saying, she disappeared. I then recognised that she was no
mortal, but an angel."
20Zu'n Nun relates that he heard his spiritual teacher Schakran recount the following story.
"When I was young, I lived on the eastern bank of the Nile, near Cairo, and gained my livelihood
by ferrying passengers across to the western side. One day, as I was sitting 62in my boat near the
river edge, an aged man presented himself before me; he wore a tattered robe, a staff was in his
hand, and a water-skin suspended from his neck. 'Will you ferry me over for the love of God?'
said he. I answered, 'Yes.' 'And will you fulfil my commission for the love of God?' 'Yes.'
Accordingly, I rowed him across to the western side. On alighting from the boat, he pointed to a
solitary tree some distance off, and said to me, 'Now go your way, and do not trouble yourself
further about me till to-morrow; nor indeed will it be in your power, even should you desire it,
for as soon as I have left you, you will at once forget me. But to-morrow, at this same hour of
noon, you will suddenly call me to mind. Then go to that tree which you see before you, I shall
be lying dead in its shade. Say the customary prayers over my corpse, and bury me; then take my
robe, my staff and the water-skin, and return with them to the other side of the river; there deliver
them to him who shall first ask them of you. This is my commission.'
"Having said this, he immediately departed. I looked after him, but soon lost sight of him; and
then, as he had himself already forewarned me, I utterly forgot him. But next day, at the approach
of noon, I suddenly remembered the event, and hastily crossing the river alone, I came to the
western bank, and then made straight for the tree. In its shade I found him stretched out at full
length, with a calm and smiling face, but dead. I recited over him the customary prayers, and
buried him in the sand at the foot of the tree; then I took the garment, the staff and the waterskin, and returned to my boat. Arrived at the eastern63 side, I found standing on the shore to
meet me a young man whom I knew as a most dissolute fellow of the town, a hired musician by
profession. He was gaudily dressed, his countenance bore the traces of recent debauch, and his
fingers were stained with henna. 'Give me the bequest,' said he. Amazed at such a demand from
such a character, 'What bequest?' I answered. 'The staff, the water-skin and the garment,' was his
reply. Thereupon I drew them, though unwillingly, from the bottom of the boat, where I had
concealed them, and gave them to him. He at once stripped off his gay clothes, put on the tattered
robe, hung the water-skin round his neck, took the staff in his hand, and turned to depart.
"I, however, caught hold of him and exclaimed, 'For God's sake, ere you go, tell me the meaning
of this, and how this bequest has become yours, such as I know you.' 'By no merit of my own,
certainly,' answered he; 'but I passed last night at a wedding-feast, with many boon companions,
in singing, drinking deep, and mad debauch. As the night wore away and morning drew near,
tired out with pleasure and heavy with wine, I lay down to sleep. Then in my sleep one stood by
me, and said, "God has at this very hour taken to himself the soul of such an ascetic, and has
chosen you to fill his place on earth. Rise and go to the river bank, there you will meet a
ferryman in his boat; demand from him the bequest. He will give you a garment, a staff and a
water-skin; take them, and live as their first owner lived."'
"Such was his story. He then bade me farewell, and went his way. But I wept bitterly over my
own64 loss, in that I had not been chosen in his place as successor to the dead saint, and thought
that such a favour would have been more worthily bestowed on me than on him. But that same
night, as I slept, I heard a voice saying unto me, 'Schakran, is it grief to thee that I have called an
erring servant of Mine to repentance? The favour is My free gift, and I bestow such on whom I
will, nor yet do I forget those who seek Me.' I awoke from sleep, and repented of my impatient
ambition."
Zu'n Nun had a disciple who had made the pilgrimage to the Kaaba forty times, and during forty
years had passed all his nights in devotional exercises. One day he came to Zu'n Nun and said,
"During the forty years that I have practised austerity, nothing of the unseen world has been
revealed to me; the Friend (i.e., God) has not spoken to me, nor cast upon me a single look. I fear
lest I die and leave this world in despair. Thou, who are the physician of sick souls, devise some
means for my cure." "Go," Zu'n Nun replied, "this evening, omit your prayers, eat as much as
you like, and go to sleep. Doubtless, if the Friend does not look upon you with an eye of mercy,
He will at any rate look upon you with an eye of anger." The dervish went away, but said his
prayers as usual, saying to himself that it would be wrong to omit them. Then he ate to satiety,
and went to sleep. In his dreams he saw the Prophet, who said to him, "O Dervish, the Friend
sends thee his salutation, and says, 'Surely that man is pusillanimous who, as soon as he has
arrived at My court, hastens to return; set thy feet on this path like a brave man, and then We will
give thee65 the reward for all the austerities which thou hast practised for forty years, and make
thee reach the goal of thy desires.'"
Perhaps someone may ask why Zu'n Nun told his disciple to omit his prayers. We should
consider that sheikhs are physicians knowing the remedy for every kind of disease. Now there
are many diseases whose treatment involves the use of poisons. Besides, Zu'n Nun knew well
that his disciple would certainly not neglect his prayers. There are in the spiritual path (tariqat)
many things not justifiable according to the written law (shariat). It is thus that the Lord ordered
Abraham to slay his son, an act unlawful according to the written law. But whoever, without
having attained to so high a degree in the spiritual life as Zu'n Nun, should act as he did in this
matter would be a being without faith or law; for each one in his actions must conform to the
decisions of the written law.
Zu'n Nun related once the following. "When I was making the circuit of the Kaaba, I saw a man
with a pale face and emaciated frame. I said to him, 'Dost thou really love Him?' 'Yes,' he
answered. 'Does the Friend come near thee?' 'Yes, assuredly.' 'Is He kind to thee?' 'Yes, certainly.'
'What!' I exclaimed, 'the Friend approaches thee, He is kind to thee, and look at the wretched
state of thy body!' He replied, 'Simpleton! Knowest thou not that they whom the Friend
approaches most nearly, are the most severely tried?'"
"One day," said Zu'n Nun, "when I was travelling, I arrived at a plain covered with snow. I saw a
fire-worshipper who was strewing seeds of millet there.66 'O infidel,' I said, 'why are you
strewing this millet?' 'To-day,' he said, 'as it has been snowing, I reflected that the birds would
find nothing to eat, and I strewed this millet that they may find some food, and I hope that the
Most High will perchance have mercy upon me.' 'The grain which an infidel sows,' I replied,
'does not germinate, and thou art a fire-worshipper.' 'Well,' he answered, 'even if God does not
accept my offering, may I not hope that He sees what I am doing?' 'Certainly He sees it,' I said.
'If He sees it,' he remarked 'that is enough for me.'
"Long afterwards I met this infidel at Mecca making the circuit of the Kaaba. He recognised me,
and exclaimed, 'O Zu'n Nun, the Most High, witnessing my act, has accepted it. The grain I
sowed has indeed sprung up, for God has given me faith, and brought me to His House.' "Seeing
him," added Zu'n Nun, "I rejoiced, and cried, 'My God, dost Thou give paradise to an infidel for
a handful of millet seed?' Then I heard a voice reply, 'O Zu'n Nun, the mercy of the Lord is
without limit.'"
Zu'n Nun daily asked three things of God in prayer. The first was never to have any certainty of
his means of subsistence for the morrow. The second was never to be in honour among men. And
the third was to see God's face in mercy at his death-hour. Near the end of his life, one of his
more intimate disciples ventured to question him on this triple prayer, and what had been its
result. "As for the first and second petitions," answered Zu'n Nun, "God has liberally granted
them, and I trust in His goodness that He will not refuse me the third."67
During his last moments he was asked what he wished. "I wish," he replied, "that if I have only
one more breath left, it may be spent in blessing the Most High." As he said this, he breathed his
last.
He died 860 a.d., and his tomb is still an object of popular veneration at Cairo.
20 Vide Palgrave: Asceticism among Muhammadan Nations.
68
CHAPTER VIII
MANSUR HALLAJ (d 922 ad)
Mansur Hallaj ("the cotton-comber"), a Persian, of Zoroastrian lineage, was a pupil of Junaid of
Bagdad, a more sober-minded Sufi than his contemporary Bayazid Bastami. Mansur himself
however was of an enthusiastic temperament, and took no pains to guard his language. One of
his extraordinary utterances, "I am the truth," led at last to his execution, "the Truth" being one of
the recognised names of God in Muhammadan nomenclature. Notwithstanding this, even at the
present day he passes among the Sufis for one of their greatest saints, while the more orthodox
regard him as a daring blasphemer who received his deserts. "His contemporaries," says a
Muhammadan writer, "entertained as many different views concerning him as the Jews and
Christians with respect to the Messiah." Certainly when we read the various accounts of him by
authors of different tendencies, if we did not know to the contrary, we might suppose ourselves
reading about different persons bearing the same name. The orthodox regard him chiefly as a
sorcerer in league with supernatural powers, whether celestial or infernal, for he caused, it is
said, summer fruits to appear in winter and vice versa. He could69 reveal in open day what had
been done in secret, knew everyone's most private thoughts, and when he extended his empty
hand in the air he drew it back full of coins bearing the inscription, "Say: God is One." Among
the moderate Shiites, who had more than one point of contact with the Sufis, it is not a question
of sorcery at all. For them the doctrine of Hallaj, which he had also practised himself, meant that
by using abstinence, by refusing pleasure and by chastising the flesh, man can lift himself
gradually to the height of the elect and even of angels. If he perseveres in this path he is
gradually purged from everything human, he receives the spirit of God as Jesus did, and all that
he does is done by God.
The Shiites say, moreover, that the reason for which Hallaj was put to death should be found not
in his utterances but in the astonishing influence which he exercised over the highest classes of
society, on princes and their courts, and which caused much disquietude to others, especially to
the orthodox mullahs. Hallaj has even been judged not unfavourably by those among the
orthodox who were characterised by a certain breadth of view, and who, like Ghazzali, although
they disliked free-thinking, yet wished for a religion of the heart, and were not content with the
dry orthodoxy of the great majority of theologians. Ghazzali indeed has gone so far as to put a
favourable construction on the following sayings of Hallaj: "I am the Truth," "There is nothing in
Paradise except God." He justifies them on the ground of the speaker's excessive love for God. In
his eyes, as well as in those of other great authorities, Hallaj is a saint and70 a martyr. The most
learned theologians of the tenth century, on the contrary, believed that he deserved execution as
an infidel and a blasphemer. Even the greatest admirers of Hallaj, the Sufis, are not agreed
regarding him. Some of them question whether he were a thorough-going pantheist, and think
that he taught a numerical Pantheism, an immanence of the Deity in certain souls only. But this is
not the opinion of the majority of the Sufis. The high esteem which they entertain for him is best
understood by comparing the account they give of his martyrdom with that by orthodox writers.
The latter runs as follows:
The common people of Bagdad were circulating reports that Hallaj could raise the dead, and that
the Jinn21 were his slaves, and brought him whatever he desired. Hamid, the vizier of the Caliph
Muqtadir, was much disturbed by this, and requested the Caliph to have Hallaj and his partizans
arrested. But the grand chamberlain Nasir was strongly in his favour, and opposed this; his
influence, however, being less than that of the vizier, Hallaj and some of his followers were
arrested. When the latter were questioned, they admitted that they regarded their leader as God,
since he raised the dead; but when he was questioned himself, he said, "God preserve me from
claiming divinity or the dignity of a prophet; I am a mortal man who adores the Most High."
The vizier then summoned two cadis22 and the principal theologians, and desired that they
should give sentence against Hallaj. They answered that 71they could not pronounce sentence
without proofs and without confession on the part of the accused. The vizier, foiled in his
attempt, caused Hallaj to be brought several times before him, and tried by artfully devised
questions to elicit from him some heretical utterance, but in vain. Finally he succeeded in finding
in one of his books the assertion that if a man wished to make the pilgrimage to Mecca, but was
hindered from doing so by some reason or other, he could perform the equivalent of it in the
following way. He should go through all the prescribed circuits in a chamber carefully cleansed
and closed. In this chamber also he should give a feast of the choicest food to thirty orphans,
should wait upon them himself, make them a present of clothing, and give them each seven
dirhems.23 All this, he maintained, would be a work more meritorious than the pilgrimage itself.
The vizier showed to the cadi Abou Amr this passage which scandalised him. Abou Amr then
asked Hallaj, "Whence did you derive this idea?" Hallaj quoted a work of Hassan of Basra, from
which he said he had taken it. "It is a lie, O infidel, whose death is lawful," exclaimed the cadi;
"the book you speak of was expounded to us at Mecca by one of the learned, but what you have
written is not in it." The vizier eagerly caught up the expressions "O infidel," etc., which escaped
the cadi in his excitement, and asked him to pronounce sentence of death. The cadi refused; that,
he said, was not his intention; but the vizier insisted, and ended by obtaining the sentence of
death, which was signed by all the maulvies present. In vain Hallaj 72sought to prove that the
condemnation was unjust. "You have no right," he exclaimed, "to shed my blood. My religion is
Islam; I believe in the traditions handed down from the Prophet, and I have written on this
subject books which you can find everywhere. I have always acknowledged the four Imams24
and the first four Caliphs. I invoke the help of God to save my life!"
He was taken to prison. The vizier despatched the sentence of death, signed by the maulvies, to
the Caliph, who ordered that Hallaj should be handed to the Chief of Police and receive a
thousand strokes of the rod, and then another thousand if he did not die from the effects of the
first scourging, and finally be decapitated. The vizier, however, did not transmit the order
accurately, but modified it as follows: "If Hallaj does not die under the blows of the rod, let him
first have a hand cut off, then a foot, then the other hand and foot. Lastly let his head be cut off,
and his body burnt."
Hallaj underwent the terrible punishment with admirable courage, and when his body had been
burnt the ashes were cast into the Tigris. But his disciples did not believe in his death; they were
persuaded that a person resembling him had been martyred in his place, and that he would show
himself again after forty days. Some declared that they had met him mounted on an ass on the
road leading to Nahrawan, and had heard him say, "Be not like those simpletons who think that I
have been scourged and put to death."
Thus far the theologians' account. That given by Fariduddin Attar in his "Tazkirat-ul-Aulia" is as
follows:
This is he who was a martyr in the way of truth, whose rank has become exalted, whose outer
and inner man were pure, who has been a pattern of loyalty in love, whom an irresistible longing
drew towards the contemplation of the face of God; this is the enthusiast Mansur Hallaj, may the
mercy of God be upon him! He was intoxicated with a love whose flames consumed him. The
miracles he worked were such that the learned were thunderstruck at them. He was a man whose
range of vision was immense, whose words were riddles, and profoundly versed in the
knowledge of mysteries. Born in the canton of Baida in the province of Shiraz, he grew up at
Wasit.
Abd Allah Khafif used to say, "Mansur really possessed the knowledge of the truth." "I and
Mansur," declared Shibli,25 "followed the same path; they regarded me as mad, and my life was
saved thereby, while Mansur perished because he was sane." If Mansur had been really astray in
error, the two learned men we have just quoted would not have spoken of him in such terms.
Many wise men, however, have reproached him for revealing the mysteries of truth to the vulgar
herd.
When he had grown up, he was two years in the service of Abd Allah Teshtari. He made the
pilgrimage to Mecca, and on his return became a disciple of the Sufi Junaid. One day, when
Mansur was plying him with questions on certain obscure and difficult points, 74Junaid said, "O
Mansur, before very long you will redden the head of the stake."26 "The day when I redden the
head of the stake," rejoined Mansur, "you will cast away the garment of the dervish and assume
that of ordinary men." It is related that on the day when Mansur was taken to execution all the
Ulama27 signed the sentence of death. "Junaid also must sign," said the Caliph. Junaid
accordingly repaired to the college of the Ulama, where, after putting on a mullah's robe and
turban, he recorded in writing his opinion that "though apparently Mansur deserved death,
inwardly he possessed the knowledge of the Most High."
Having left Bagdad, Mansur spent a year at Tashter, then he spent five years in travelling through
Khorassan, Seistan and Turkestan. On his return to Bagdad, the number of his followers largely
increased, and he gave utterance to many strange sayings which excited the suspicions of the
orthodox. At last he began to say, "I am the Truth." These words were repeated to the Caliph, and
many persons renounced Mansur as a religious leader and appeared as witnesses against him.
Among these was Junaid, to whom the Caliph said, "O Junaid, what is the meaning of this saying
of Mansur?" "O Caliph," answered Junaid, "this man should be put to death, for such a saying
cannot be reasonably explained." The Caliph then ordered him to be cast into prison. There for a
whole year he continued to hold discussions with the learned. At the end of that time the Caliph
forbade that anyone should have access to him; in consequence, no one 75went to see him for
five months except Abd Allah Khafif. Another time Ibn Ata sent someone to say to him, "O
Sheikh, withdraw what you said, so that you may escape death." "Nay, rather he who sent you to
me should ask forgiveness," replied Mansur. Ibn Ata, hearing this, shed tears and said, "Alas, he
is irreparably lost!"
In order to force him to retract, he was first of all given three hundred blows with a rod, but in
vain. He was then led to execution. A crowd of about a hundred thousand men followed him, and
as he looked round on them, he cried, "True! True! True! I am the Truth!"
It is said that among them was a dervish who asked him, "What is love?" "Thou shalt see,"
Mansur replied, "to-day and to-morrow and the day after." And, as it happened, that day he was
put to death, the next day his body was burnt, and on the third his ashes were scattered to the
winds. He meant that such would be the results of his love to God. On his son asking of him a
last piece of advice, "While the people of the world," he said, "spend their energies on earthly
objects, do thou apply thyself to a study, the least portion of which is worth all that men and Jinn
can produce—the study of truth."
As he walked along lightly and alertly, though loaded with many chains, they asked him the
reason of his confident bearing. "It is," he said, "because I am going to the presence of the King."
Then he added, "My Host, in whom there is no injustice, has presented me with the drink which
is usually given to a guest; but when the cups have began to circulate76 he has sent for the
executioner with his sword and leathern carpet. Thus fares it with him who drinks with the
Dragon28 in July."
When he reached the scaffold, he turned his face towards the western gate of Bagdad, and set his
foot on the first rung of the ladder, "the first step heaven-*ward," as he said. Then he girded
himself with a girdle, and, lifting up his hands towards heaven, turned towards Mecca, and said
exultantly, "Let it be as He has willed." When he reached the platform of the scaffold, a group of
his disciples called out to him, "What do you say regarding us, thy disciples, and regarding those
who deny thy claims and are about to stone thee?" "They will have a two-fold reward, and you
only a single one," he answered, "for you limit yourselves to having a good opinion of me, while
they are carried on by their zeal for the unity of God and for the written law. Now in the law the
doctrine of God's unity is fundamental, while a good opinion is merely accessory."
Shibli the Sufi stood in front of him and cried, "Did we not tell thee not to gather men
together?"29 Then he added, "O Hallaj, what is Sufism?" "Thou seest," replied Hallaj, "the least
part of it." "What is then the highest?" asked Shibli. "Thou canst not attain to it," he answered.
Then they all began to stone him. Shibli making common cause with the others threw mud at
him. Hallaj uttered a cry. "What," said one, "you have not flinched under this hail of stones, and
now you cry out because of a little mud! Why is that?" "Ah!" 77he replied, "they do not know
what they are doing, and are excusable; but he grieves me because he knows I ought not to be
stoned at all."
When they cut off his hands, he laughed and said, "To cut off the hands of a fettered man is easy,
but to sever the links which bind me to the Divinity would be a task indeed." Then they cut off
his two feet. He said smiling, "With these I used to accomplish my earthly journeys, but I have
another pair of feet with which I can traverse both worlds. Hew these off if ye can!" Then, with
his bleeding stumps, he rubbed his cheeks and arms. "Why do you do that?" he was asked. "I
have lost much blood," he answered, "and lest you should think the pallor of my countenance
betokens fear, I have reddened my cheeks." "But why your arms." "The ablutions of love must be
made in blood," he replied.
Then his eyes were torn out. At this a tumult arose in the crowd. Some burst into tears, others
cast stones at him. When they were about to cut out his tongue, he exclaimed, "Wait a little; I
have something to say." Then, lifting his face towards heaven, he said, "My God, for the sake of
these sufferings, which they inflict on me because of Thee, do not inflict loss upon them nor
deprive them of their share of felicity. Behold, upon the scaffold of my torture I enjoy the
contemplation of Thy glory." His last words were, "Help me, O Thou only One, to whom there is
no second!" and he recited the following verse of the Koran, "Those who do not believe say,
'Why does not the day of judgment hasten?' Those who believe tremble at the mention of it, for
they know78 that it is near." Then they cut out his tongue, and he smiled. Finally, at the time of
evening prayer, his head was cut off. His body was burnt, and the ashes thrown into the Tigris.
The high opinion entertained of Mansur Hallaj by Fariduddin Attar, as seen in the above account,
has been echoed by subsequent Sufi writers. Jalaluddin Rumi, the great mystic poet, says of him:
"Pharaoh said 'I am the Truth,'30 and was laid low. Mansur Hallaj said 'I am the Truth,' and
escaped free. Pharaoh's 'I' was followed by the curse of God. Mansur's 'I' was followed by the
mercies of God. Because Pharaoh was a stone, Mansur a ruby, Pharaoh an enemy of light,
Mansur a friend. Mansur's 'I am He,' was a deep mystic saying, Expressing union with the light,
not mere incarnation."31 Similarly Abdurrahman, the chief poet of the Afghans says:
"Every one who is crucified like Mansur, After death his cross becomes a fruitful tree."
21 Spirits.
22 Judges.
23 A small coin.
24 The founders of the four orthodox Sects.
25 A celebrated contemporary Sufi
26 Referring to punishment by impaling.
27 Learned men.
28 i.e. God.
29 Koran V, v 70.
30 According to the Koran, Pharaoh claimed divinity.
31 Whinfield's Masnavi p. 248.
79
CHAPTER IX
HABIB AJAMI (d 773 ad)
Habib Ajami was a rich usurer of Basra, and used to spend most of his time going about and
collecting the money which was due to him. He used also to insist on being paid for the time so
spent. One day he had gone to the house of one of his debtors, and when he had knocked at the
door the debtor's wife said to him, "My husband is not at home." "If he is not," said Habib, "pay
me for my lost time and I will go." "But I have nothing," replied the woman, "except a neck of
mutton." She fetched it and gave it to him. Habib took it home to his wife, and told her to cook it.
"But," said she, "we have no bread or wood." So Habib went off again, exacted his indemnity for
lost time from another debtor, and bought wood and bread, which he took home. His wife set
about cooking the food, when a dervish appeared at the door asking alms. "Go away," said Habib
to him; "you won't become rich with what you get here." The dervish departed in silence. Habib's
wife prepared to put the food on the plates, but when she looked into the cooking pot she saw a
mass of blood. Filled with terror, she said to Habib, "Your harshness towards the dervish has
brought80 this misfortune on us. All the food in the cooking pot has turned to blood." Habib,
frightened himself, repented, and, as a pledge of the reality of his conversion, vowed to abandon
the practice of usury. The following day was a Friday.
Habib, having gone out, saw as he was walking along, children playing on the road. They no
sooner saw him than they said to each other, "Here is the usurer coming; let us be off, lest the
dust raised by his feet touch us and we become cursed like him." At these words Habib Ajami
was profoundly stirred, and went off to consult Hasan Basri, whom he found in the act of
preaching on the terrors of the judgment-day. Habib was so overcome with fear that he fainted.
When he came to himself, he made public confession of his sins in the presence of Hasan Basri
and the congregation.
Then he left the mosque and returned home. One of his debtors, seeing him on the road,
attempted to get out of his way, but Habib called after him and said, "Don't fly away; formerly
you used to avoid me, but now it is I who seek to avoid you." As he approached his house he met
the same children as before, and heard them say to one another, "We must get out of the way, lest
the dust raised by our feet should soil Habib, who has repented." Habib, hearing this, exclaimed,
"O Lord, in that very hour, when, returning from my errors, I have taken refuge with Thee, Thou
hast put affection for me in the hearts of Thy friends, and changed into blessings the curses
which used to greet my name."
He remitted all the debts that were due to him, and gave public notice that all his debtors had
only to81 come and take back their bonds. They all came and did so. Then he gave away all the
wealth he had been amassing for years, till he had nothing left. He built a hermitage on the banks
of the Euphrates, where he gave himself up to a devotional life, spending whole nights in prayer.
During the day he attended the instructions of Hasan Basri. At the commencement of his
religious life he received the appellation "Ajami" (ill-instructed) because he could not pronounce
the words of the Koran properly.
After some time his wife began to complain, saying, "I must really have some money; we have
neither food to eat nor clothes to wear." At this time Habib was in the habit of going every day to
his hermitage on the banks of the river, and spending the day in devotional exercises. In the
evenings he came home. One evening his wife asked him where he had been during the day. "I
have been working," he replied. "Very well, where are your wages?" she asked. "My employer,"
said Habib, "is a generous person. He has promised to pay me at the end of ten days." So he
continued spending his time as before. On the tenth day, as he reflected in his hermitage, he
wondered what he should say to his wife when he returned in the evening, and she wanted
something to eat. That day four men came to the house of Habib. One brought a quantity of flour,
another a sheep, a third a jar of honey, and the fourth a bottle of oil. Not long after them a fifth
came with a purse of gold. They gave all these to Habib's wife, saying to her, "Your husband's
Employer has sent these," and they added, "Tell your husband that his Master bids him continue
his82 work, and He will continue his wages." Then they departed.
In the evening Habib came home, pensive and anxious. As he entered the house an odour of
cooking greeted him. His wife hastened to meet him, and said, "O Habib, go on working for your
employer, for he is very generous, and has sent all that you see here, with this message that you
are to go on working, and he will continue to pay you." Hearing this, Habib became more
confirmed than ever in his resolve to give up the world and to live to God.
One day Hasan Basri paid Habib a visit in his hermitage. The latter had two barley loaves and a
little salt, which he placed before his guest. Just as the latter was commencing to eat and in the
act of stretching out his hand, a dervish appeared at the door and asked for alms. Habib
immediately handed him the two loaves. Hasan, somewhat ruffled, said, "Habib, you are a good
man, but you would be none the worse for a little culture and intelligence. Don't you know that
one ought never to take food away from before a guest? At any rate, you might have given one of
those loaves to the dervish, and left the other." Habib made no reply. Some minutes afterwards a
man came carrying in a napkin a roast lamb, a large plate of sweetmeats, and some money. He
set them before Habib and said, "Sir, so and so sends you these with his compliments." Habib
and Hasan made a hearty meal, and Habib distributed the money to some passing mendicants.
Then he said to Hasan Basri, "My master, you are a good man, but it would have been better had
you shown more sincerity in83 this matter, for then you would have possessed both knowledge
and sincerity, and the two go well together."
On another occasion Hasan Basri arrived at Habib's hermitage just as the latter was commencing
his evening prayers. Hearing him pronounce the words "al hamdu32" as "al hemdu," Hasan said
to himself, "This man cannot pronounce the words of the Koran properly; it is impossible to pray
with him," and he said his prayers apart. That same night he saw the Lord in a dream, and asked
him, "Lord, what must I do to gain Thy approval." An answer came, "O Hasan, thou hadst gained
it, but didst not appreciate its value. Thou shouldest have prayed with Habib Ajami. Such a
prayer would have had more worth than all those which thou hast made in the course of thy life.
The tongues of others may speak rightly, but the heart of Habib feels rightly."
One day Hasan Basri, flying from the agents of Hejjaj ibn Yusuf, the bloodthirsty governor of
Irak, took refuge in Habib's hermitage. The pursuers, arriving, asked Habib whether Hasan had
passed that way. "No," he said, "he is here in my dwelling." They entered, and seeing no one said
to Habib, "O Habib, whatever treatment Hejjaj deals out to you, you will have richly deserved it.
Why did you lie to us?" "I tell you," said Habib, "Hasan is within this dwelling; if you don't see
him, what can I do?" They again made a search, but not succeeding in finding Hasan, departed.
Hasan then came out of his hiding-place, and said, "O Habib, is this the way thou re84payest thy
debt to thy master, by betraying him?" "Master," answered Habib, "it is thanks to my truthfulness
that thou hast escaped. If I had told a lie we should have both been c...
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