INTRODUCTION.

In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.

O Lord, bestow on us mercy from Thyself and provide for us a right course of action!

Praise be to God, who hath revealed the secrets of His kingdom to His Saints, and hath disclosed the mysteries of His power to His intimates, and hath shed the blood of Lovers with the sword of His glory, and hath let the hearts of Gnostics taste the joy of His communion! He it is that bringeth dead hearts to life by the radiance of the perception of His eternity and His majesty, and reanimates them with the comforting spirit of knowledge by divulging His Names.

And peace be upon His Apostle, Muḥammad, and his family and his companions and his wives!

`Alí b. `Uthmán b. `Alí al-Jullábí al-Ghaznawí al-Hujwírí (may God be well pleased with him!) says as follows:—

I have asked God’s blessing, and have cleared my heart of motives related to self, and have set to work in accordance with your invitation—may God make you happy!—and have firmly resolved to fulfil all your wishes by means of this book. I have entitled it “The Revelation of The Mystery”. Knowing what you desire, I have arranged the book in divisions suitable to your purpose. Now I pray God to aid and prosper me in its completion, and I divest myself of my own strength and ability in word and deed. It is God that gives success.

Section.

Two considerations have impelled me to put my name at the beginning of the book: one particular, the other general.[^[17]] As regards the latter, when persons ignorant of this science see a new book, in which the author’s name is not set down in several places, they attribute his work to themselves, and thus the author’s aim is defeated, since books are compiled, composed, and written only to the end that the author’s name may be kept alive and that readers and students may pronounce a blessing on him. This misfortune has already befallen me twice. A certain individual borrowed my poetical works, of which there was no other copy, and retained the manuscript in his possession, and circulated it, and struck out my name which stood at its head, and caused all my labour to be lost. May God forgive him! I also composed another book, entitled “The Highway of Religion” (Minháj al-Dín), on the method of Ṣúfiism—may God make it flourish! A shallow pretender, whose words carry no weight, erased my name from the title page and gave out to the public that he was the author, notwithstanding that connoisseurs laughed at his assertion. God, however, brought home to him the unblessedness of this act and erased his name from the register of those who seek to enter the Divine portal.

As regards the particular consideration, when people see a book, and know that its author is skilled in the branch of science of which it treats, and is thoroughly versed therein, they judge its merits more fairly and apply themselves more seriously to read and remember it, so that both author and reader are better satisfied. The truth is best known to God.[God.]

Section.

In using the words “I have asked God’s blessing” (p. 3), I wished to observe the respect due to God, who said to His Apostle: “When you read the Koran, take refuge with God from the stoned Devil” (Kor. xvi, 100). “To ask blessing” means “to commit all one’s affairs to God and to be saved from the various sorts of contamination”. The Prophet used to teach his followers to ask a blessing (istikhárat) just as he taught them the Koran. When a man recognizes that his welfare does not depend on his own effort and foresight, but that every good and evil that happens to him is decreed by God, who knows best what is salutary for him, he cannot do otherwise than surrender himself to Destiny and implore God to deliver him from the wickedness of his own soul.

Section.

As to the words “I have cleared my heart of all motives related to self” (p. 3), no blessing arises from anything in which selfish interest has a part. If the selfish man succeeds in his purpose, it brings him to perdition, for “the accomplishment of a selfish purpose is the key of Hell”; and if he fails, he will nevertheless have removed from his heart the means of gaining salvation, for “resistance to selfish promptings is the key of Paradise”, as God hath said: “Whoso refrains his soul from lust, verily Paradise shall be his abode” (Kor. lxxix, 40-1). People act from selfish motives when they desire aught except to please God and to escape from Divine punishment. In fine, the follies of the soul have no limit and its manœuvres are hidden from sight. If God will, a chapter on this subject will be found at its proper place in the present book.

Section.

Now as to the words “I have set to work in accordance with your invitation, and have firmly resolved to fulfil all your wishes by means of this book” (p. 3), since you thought me worthy of being asked to write this book for your instruction, it was incumbent on me to comply with your request. Accordingly it behoved me to make an unconditional resolution that I would carry out my undertaking completely. When anyone begins an enterprise with the intention of finishing it, he may be excused if imperfections appear in his work; and for this reason the Prophet said: “The believer’s intention is better than his performance.” Great is the power of intention, through which a man advances from one category to another without any external change. For example, if anyone endures hunger for a while without having intended to fast, he gets no recompense (thawáb) for it in the next world; but if he forms in his heart the intention of fasting, he becomes one of the favourites of God (muqarrabán). Again, a traveller who stays for a time in a city does not become a resident until he has formed the intention to reside there. A good intention, therefore, is preliminary to the due performance of every act.

Section.

When I said that I had called this book “The Revelation of the Mystery” (p. 3), my object was that the title of the book should proclaim its contents to persons of insight. You must know that all mankind are veiled from the subtlety of spiritual truth except God’s saints and His chosen friends; and inasmuch as this book is an elucidation of the Way of Truth, and an explanation of mystical sayings, and an uplifting of the veil of mortality, no other title is appropriate to it. Essentially, unveiling (kashf) is destruction of the veiled object, just as the veil destroys revelation (mukáshafat), and just as, for instance, one who is near cannot bear to be far, and one who is far cannot bear to be near; or as an animal which is generated from vinegar dies when it falls into any other substance, while those animals which are generated from other substances perish if they are put in vinegar. The spiritual path is hard to travel except for those who were created for that purpose. The Prophet said: “Everyone finds easy that for which he was created.” There are two veils: one is the “veil of covering” (ḥijáb-i rayní), which can never be removed, and the other is the “veil of clouding” (ḥijáb-i ghayní), which is quickly removed. The explanation is as follows: one man is veiled from the Truth by his essence (dhát), so that in his view truth and falsehood are the same. Another man is veiled from the Truth by his attributes (ṣifat), so that his nature and heart continually seek the Truth and flee from falsehood. Therefore the veil of essence, which is that of “covering” (rayní), is never removed. Rayn is synonymous with khatin (sealing) and ṭab` (imprinting). Thus God hath said: “By no means: but their deeds have spread a covering (rána) over their hearts” (Kor. lxxxiii, 14); then He made the sense of this manifest and said: “Verily it is all one to the unbelievers whether thou warnest them or no; they will not believe” (Kor. ii, 5); then he explained the cause thereof, saying: “God hath sealed up their hearts” (Kor. ii, 6). But the veil of attributes, which is that of “clouding” (ghayní), may be removed at times, for essence does not admit of alteration, but the alteration of attributes is possible. The Ṣúfí Shaykhs have given many subtle hints on the subject of rayn and ghayn. Junayd said: Al-rayn min jumlat al-waṭanát wa ´l-ghayn min jumlat al-khaṭarát, “Rayn belongs to the class of abiding things and ghayn to the class of transient things.” Waṭan is permanent and khaṭar is adventitious. For example, it is impossible to make a mirror out of a stone, though many polishers assemble to try their skill on it, but a rusty mirror can be made bright by polishing; darkness is innate in the stone, and brightness is innate in the mirror; since the essence is permanent, the temporary attribute does not endure.

Accordingly, I have composed this book for polishers of hearts which are infected by the veil of “clouding” but in which the substance of the light of the Truth is existent, in order that the veil may be lifted from them by the blessing of reading it, and that they may find their way to spiritual reality. Those whose being is compounded of denial of the truth and perpetration of falsehood will never find their way thither, and this book will be of no use to them.

Section.

Now with reference to my words “knowing what you desire, I have arranged the book in divisions suitable to your purpose” (p. 3), a questioner cannot be satisfied until he makes his want known to the person whom he interrogates. A question presupposes a difficulty, and a difficulty is insoluble until its nature is ascertained. Furthermore, to answer a question in general terms is only possible when he who asks it has full knowledge of its various departments and corollaries, but with a beginner one needs to go into detail, and offer diverse explanations and definitions; and in this case especially, seeing that you—God grant you happiness!—desired me to answer your questions in detail and write a book on the matter.

Section.

I said, “I pray God to aid and prosper me” (p. 3), because God alone can help a man to do good deeds. When God assists anyone to perform acts deserving recompense, this is truly “success given by God” (tawfíq). The Koran and the Sunna attest the genuineness of tawfíq, and the whole Moslem community are unanimous therein, except some Mu`tazilites and Qadarites, who assert that the expression tawfíq is void of meaning. Certain Ṣúfí Shaykhs have said, Al-tawfíq huwa ´l-qudrat `ala ´l-ṭá`at `inda ´l-isti`mál, “When a man is obedient to God he receives from God increased strength.” In short, all human action and inaction is the act and creation of God: therefore the strength whereby a man renders obedience to God is called tawfíq. The discussion of this topic, however, would be out of place here. Please God, I will now return to the task which you have proposed, but before entering on it I will set down your question in its exact form.

Section.

The questioner, Abú Sa`íd al-Hujwírí, said: “Explain to me the true meaning of the Path of Ṣúfiism and the nature of the ‘stations’ (maqámát) of the Ṣúfís, and explain their doctrines and sayings, and make clear to me their mystical allegories, and the nature of Divine Love and how it is manifested in human hearts, and why the intellect is unable to reach the essence thereof, and why the soul recoils from the reality thereof, and why the spirit is lulled in the purity thereof; and explain the practical aspects of Ṣúfiism which are connected with these theories.”

Answer.

The person questioned, `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí al-Hujwírí—may God have mercy on him!—says:—

Know that in this our time the science of Ṣúfiism is obsolete, especially in this country. The whole people is occupied with following its lusts and has turned its back on the path of quietism (riḍá), while the `ulamá and those who pretend to learning have formed a conception of Ṣúfiism which is quite contrary to its fundamental principles.

High and low alike are content with empty professions: blind conformity has taken the place of spiritual enthusiasm. The vulgar say, “We know God,” and the elect, satisfied if they feel in their hearts a longing for the next world, say, “This desire is vision and ardent love.” Everyone makes pretensions, none attains to reality. The disciples, neglecting their ascetic practices, indulge in idle thoughts, which they call “contemplation”.

I myself (the author proceeds) have already written several books on Ṣúfiism, but all to no purpose. Some false pretenders picked out passages here and there in order to deceive the public, while they erased and destroyed the rest; others did not mutilate the books, but left them unread; others read them, but did not comprehend their meaning, so they copied the text and committed it to memory and said: “We can discourse on mystical science.” Nowadays true spiritualism is as rare as the Philosopher’s Stone (kibrít-i aḥmar); for it is natural to seek the medicine that fits the disease, and nobody wants to mix pearls and coral with common remedies like shalíthá[^[18]] and dawá al-misk.[^[19]] In time past the works of eminent Ṣúfís, falling into the hands of those who could not appreciate them, have been used to make lining for caps or binding for the poems of Abú Nuwás and the pleasantries of Jáḥiẕ. The royal falcon is sure to get its wings clipped when it perches on the wall of an old woman’s cottage. Our contemporaries give the name of “law” to their lusts, pride and ambition they call “honour and learning”, hypocrisy towards men “fear of God”, concealment of anger “clemency”, disputation “discussion”, wrangling and foolishness “dignity”, insincerity “renunciation”, cupidity “devotion to God”, their own senseless fancies “divine knowledge”, the motions of the heart and affections of the animal soul “divine love”, heresy “poverty”, scepticism “purity”, disbelief in positive religion (zandaqa) “self-annihilation”, neglect of the Law of the Prophet “the mystic Path”, evil communication with time-servers “exercise of piety”. As Abú Bakr al-Wásiṭí said: “We are afflicted with a time in which there are neither the religious duties of Islam nor the morals of Paganism nor the virtues of Chivalry” (aḥlám-i dhawi ´l-ṃuruwwa). And Mutanabbí says to the same effect:—[^[20]]

“God curse this world! What a vile place for any camel-rider to alight in!

For here the man of lofty spirit is always tormented.”

Section.

Know that I have found this universe an abode of Divine mysteries, which are deposited in created things. Substances accidents, elements, bodies, forms, and properties—all these are veils of Divine mysteries. From the standpoint of Unification (tawḥíd) it is polytheism to assert that any such veils exist, but in this world everything is veiled, by its being, from Unification, and the spirit is held captive by admixture and association with phenomenal being. Hence the intellect can hardly comprehend those Divine mysteries, and the spirit can but dimly perceive the marvels of nearness to God. Man, enamoured of his gross environment, remains sunk in ignorance and apathy, making no attempt to cast off the veil that has fallen upon him. Blind to the beauty of Oneness, he turns away from God to seek the vanities of this world and allows his appetites to domineer over his reason, notwithstanding that the animal soul, which the Koran (xii, 53) describes as “commanding to evil” (ammárat^un bi ´l-sú´), is the greatest of all veils between God and Man.

Now I will begin and explain to you, fully and lucidly, what you wish to know concerning the “stations” and the “veils”, and I will interpret the expressions of the technicologists (ahl-i ṣaná´i`), and add thereto some sayings of the Shaykhs and anecdotes about them, in order that your object may be accomplished and that any learned doctors of law or others who look into this work may recognize that the Path of Ṣúfiism has a firm root and a fruitful branch, since all the Ṣúfí Shaykhs have been possessed of knowledge and have encouraged their disciples to acquire knowledge and to persevere in doing so. They have never been addicted to frivolity and levity. Many of them have composed treatises on the method of Ṣúfiism which clearly prove that their minds were filled with divine thoughts.

[1]. Julláb and Hujwír were two suburbs of Ghazna. Evidently he resided for some time in each of them.

[2]. Notices occur in the Nafaḥát al-Uns, No. 377; the Safínat al-Awliyá, No. 298 (Ethé’s Cat. of the Persian MSS. in the Library of the India Office, i, col. 304); the Riyáḍ al-Awliyá, Or. 1745, f. 140a (Rieu’s Cat. of the Persian MSS. in the British Museum, iii, 975). In the khátimat al-ṭab` on the last page of the Lahore edition of the Kashf al-Maḥjúb he is called Ḥaḍrat-i Dátá Ganj-bakhsh `Alí al-Hujwírí.

[3]. Nafaḥát, No. 376. Through al-Khuttalí, al-Ḥuṣrí, and Abú Bakr al-Shiblí the author of the Kashf al-Maḥjúb is spiritually connected with Junayd of Baghdád (ob. 297 A.H.).

[4]. Ibid., No. 375. The nisba Shaqqání or Shaqání is derived from Shaqqán, a village near Níshápúr.

[5]. Nafaḥát, No. 367.

[6]. Ibid., No. 368.

[7]. The date 465 A.H. is given by Ázád in his biographical work on the famous men of Balgrám, entitled Ma´áthir al-Kirám.

[8]. See Ethé’s Cat. of the Persian MSS. in the India Office Library, No. 1774 (2). The author of this treatise does not call al-Hujwírí the brother of Abú Sa`íd b. Abi ´l-Khayr, as Ethé says, but his spiritual brother (birádar-i ḥaqíqat).

[9]. Its full title is Kashf al-maḥjúb li-arbáb al-qulúb (Ḥájjí Khalífa, v, 215).

[10]. The author’s view as to the worthlessness of outward forms of religion is expressed with striking boldness in his chapter on the Pilgrimage (pp. 326-9).

[11]. Many passages from the Kashf al-Maḥjúb are quoted, word for word, in Jámí’s Nafaḥát al-Uns, which is a modernized and enlarged recension of `Abdalláh Anṣárí’s Ṭabaqát al-Ṣúfiyya.

[12]. A summary of these doctrines will be found in the abstract of a paper on “The Oldest Persian Manual of Ṣúfiism” which I read at Oxford in 1908 (Trans. of the Third International Congress for the History of Religions, i, 293-7).

[13]. Some of al-Hujwírí’s twelve sects reappear at a later epoch as orders of dervishes, but the pedigree of those orders which trace their descent from ancient Ṣúfís is usually fictitious.

[14]. JRAS., 1904, p. 130.

[15]. Cf., however, p. 114, note.

[16]. See Ethé’s Cat. of the Persian MSS. in the India Office Library, i, col. 970, where other MSS. are mentioned, and Blochet, Cat. des manuscrits persans de la Bibliothèque Nationale, i, 261 (No. 401).

[17]. The author’s meaning appears to be that one consideration has a special reference to connoisseurs and competent persons, while the other has a general reference to the public at large.

[18]. An electuary used as a remedy for paralysis of the tongue or mouth.

[19]. See Dozy, Supplément, under dawá.

[20]. Mutanabbí, ed. by Dieterici, p. 662, l. 4 from foot.

CHAPTER I.
On the Affirmation of Knowledge.

God hath said, describing the savants (`ulamá): “Of those who serve God only the savants fear Him” (Kor. xxxv, 25). The Prophet said: “To seek knowledge is obligatory on every Moslem man and woman;” and he said also: “Seek knowledge even in China.” Knowledge is immense and life is short: therefore it is not obligatory to learn all the sciences, such as Astronomy and Medicine, and Arithmetic, etc., but only so much of each as bears upon the religious law: enough astronomy to know the times (of prayer) in the night, enough medicine to abstain from what is injurious, enough arithmetic to understand the division of inheritances and to calculate the duration of the `idda,[^[21]] etc. Knowledge is obligatory only in so far as is requisite for acting rightly. God condemns those who learn useless knowledge (Kor. ii, 96), and the Prophet said: “I take refuge with Thee from knowledge that profiteth naught.” Much may be done by means of a little knowledge, and knowledge should not be separated from action. The Prophet said: “The devotee without divinity is like a donkey turning a mill,” because the donkey goes round and round over its own tracks and never makes any advance.

Some regard knowledge as superior to action, while others put action first, but both parties are wrong. Unless action is combined with knowledge, it is not deserving of recompense. Prayer, for instance, is not really prayer, unless performed with knowledge of the principles of purification and those which concern the qibla,[^[22]] and with knowledge of the nature of intention. Similarly, knowledge without action is not knowledge. Learning and committing to memory are acts for which a man is rewarded in the next world; if he gained knowledge without action and acquisition on his part, he would get no reward. Hence two classes of men fall into error: firstly, those who claim knowledge for the sake of public reputation but are unable to practise it, and in reality have not attained it; and secondly, those who pretend that practice suffices and that knowledge is unnecessary. It is told of Ibráhím b. Adham that he saw a stone on which was written, “Turn me over and read!” He obeyed, and found this inscription: “Thou dost not practise what thou knowest; why, then, dost thou seek what thou knowest not?” Ánas b. Málik says: “The wise aspire to know, the foolish to relate.” He who uses his knowledge as a means of winning power and honour and wealth is no savant. The highest pinnacle of knowledge is expressed in the fact that without it none can know God.

Section.

Knowledge is of two kinds: Divine and Human. The latter is worthless in comparison with the former, because God’s knowledge is an attribute of Himself, subsisting in Him, whose attributes are infinite; whereas our knowledge is an attribute of ourselves, subsisting in us, whose attributes are finite. Knowledge has been defined as “comprehension and investigation of the object known”, but the best definition of it is this: “A quality whereby the ignorant are made wise.” God’s knowledge is that by which He knows all things existent and non-existent: He does not share it with Man: it is not capable of division nor separable from Himself. The proof of it lies in the disposition of His actions (tartíb-i fi`lash), since action demands knowledge in the agent as an indispensable condition. The Divine knowledge penetrates what is hidden and comprehends what is manifest. It behoves the seeker to Contemplate God in every act, knowing that God sees him and all that he does.

Story. They relate that a leading man in Baṣra went to his garden. By chance his eye fell upon the beautiful wife of his gardener. He sent the fellow away on some business and said to the woman: “Shut the gates.” She replied: “I have shut them all except one, which I cannot shut.” He asked: “Which one is that?” “The gate,” said she, “that is between us and God.” On receiving this answer the man repented and begged to be forgiven.

Ḥátim al-Aṣamm said: “I have chosen four things to know, and have discarded all the knowledge in the world besides.” He was asked: “What are they?” “One,” he answered, “is this: I know that my daily bread is apportioned to me, and will neither be increased nor diminished; consequently I have ceased to seek to augment it. Secondly, I know that I owe to God a debt which no other person can pay instead of me; therefore I am occupied with paying it. Thirdly, I know that there is one pursuing me (i.e. Death) from whom I cannot escape; accordingly I have prepared myself to meet him. Fourthly, I know that God is observing me; therefore I am ashamed to do what I ought not.”

Section.

The object of human knowledge should be to know God and His Commandments. Knowledge of “time” (`ilm-i waqt)[^[23]], and of all outward and inward circumstances of which the due effect depends on “time”, is incumbent upon everyone. This is of two sorts: primary and secondary. The external division of the primary class consists in making the Moslem’s profession of faith, the internal division consists in the attainment of true cognition. The external division of the secondary class consists in the practice of devotion, the internal division consists in rendering one’s intention sincere. The outward and inward aspects cannot be divorced. The exoteric aspect of Truth without the esoteric is hypocrisy, and the esoteric without the exoteric is heresy. So, with regard to the Law, mere formality is defective, while mere spirituality is vain.

The Knowledge of the Truth (Ḥaqíqat) has three pillars—

(1) Knowledge of the Essence and Unity of God.
(2) Knowledge of the Attributes of God.
(3) Knowledge of the Actions and Wisdom of God.

The Knowledge of the Law (Sharí`at) also has three pillars—

(1) The Koran.
(2) The Sunna.
(3) The Consensus (ijmá`) of the Moslem community.

Knowledge of the Divine Essence involves recognition, on the part of one who is reasonable and has reached puberty, that God exists externally by His essence, that He is infinite and not bounded by space, that His essence is not the cause of evil, that none of His creatures is like unto Him, that He has neither wife nor child, and that He is the Creator and Sustainer of all that your imagination and intellect can conceive.

Knowledge of the Divine Attributes requires you to know that God has attributes existing in Himself, which are not He nor a part of Him, but exist in Him and subsist by Him, e.g. Knowledge, Power, Life, Will, Hearing, Sight, Speech, etc.

Knowledge of the Divine Actions is your knowledge that God is the Creator of mankind and of all their actions, that He brought the non-existent universe into being, that He predestines good and evil and creates all that is beneficial and injurious.

Knowledge of the Law involves your knowing that God has sent us Apostles with miracles of an extraordinary nature; that our Apostle, Muḥammad (on whom be peace!), is a true Messenger, who performed many miracles, and that whatever he has told us concerning the Unseen and the Visible is entirely true.

Section.

There is a sect of heretics called Sophists (Súfisṭá´iyán), who believe that nothing can be known and that knowledge itself does not exist. I say to them: “You think that nothing can be known; is your opinion correct or not?” If they answer “It is correct”, they thereby affirm the reality of knowledge; and if they reply “It is not correct”, then to argue against an avowedly incorrect assertion is absurd. The same doctrine is held by a sect of heretics who are connected with Ṣúfiism. They say that, inasmuch as nothing is knowable, their negation of knowledge is more perfect than the affirmation of it. This statement proceeds from their folly and stupidity. The negation of knowledge must be the result either of knowledge or of ignorance. Now it is impossible for knowledge to deny knowledge; therefore knowledge cannot be denied except by ignorance, which is nearly akin to infidelity and falsehood; for there is no connexion between ignorance and truth. The doctrine in question is opposed to that of all the Ṣúfí Shaykhs, but is commonly attributed to the Ṣúfís in general by people who have heard it and embraced it. I commit them to God, with Whom it rests whether they shall continue in their error. If religion takes hold of them, they will behave more discreetly and will not misjudge the Friends of God in this way and will look more anxiously to what concerns themselves. Although some heretics claim to be Ṣúfís in order to conceal their own foulness under the beauty of others, why should it be supposed that all Ṣúfis are like these pretenders, and that it is right to treat them all with disdain and contumely? An individual who wished to pass for learned and orthodox, but really was devoid of knowledge and religion, once said to me in the course of debate: “There are twelve heretical sects, and one of them flourishes amongst those who profess Ṣúfiism” (mutaṣawwifa). I replied: “If one sect belongs to us, eleven belong to you; and the Ṣúfís can protect themselves from one better than you can from eleven.” All this heresy springs from the corruption and degeneracy of the times, but God has always kept His Saints hidden from the multitude and apart from the ungodly. Well said that eminent spiritual guide, `Alí b. Bundár al-Ṣayrafí [^[24]]: “The depravity of men’s hearts is in proportion to the depravity of the age.”

Now in the following section I will cite some sayings of the Ṣúfís as an admonition to those sceptics towards whom God is favourably inclined.

Section.

Muḥammad b. Faḍl al-Balkhí says: “Knowledge is of three kinds—from God, with God, and of God.” Knowledge of God is the science of Gnosis (`ilm-i ma`rifat), whereby He is known to all His prophets and saints. It cannot be acquired by ordinary means, but is the result of Divine guidance and information. Knowledge from God is the science of the Sacred Law (`ilm-i sharí`at), which He has commanded and made obligatory upon us. Knowledge with God is the science of the “stations” and the “Path” and the degrees of the saints. Gnosis is unsound without acceptance of the Law, and the Law is not practised rightly unless the “stations” are manifested. Abú `Alí Thaqafí [^[25]] says: Al-`ilm ḥayát al-qalb min al-jahl wa-núr al-`ayn min al-ẕulmat, “Knowledge is the life of the heart, which delivers it from the death of ignorance: it is the light of the eye of faith, which saves it from the darkness of infidelity.” The hearts of infidels are dead, because they are ignorant of God, and the hearts of the heedless are sick, because they are ignorant of His Commandments. Abú Bakr Warráq of Tirmidh says: “Those who are satisfied with disputation (kalám) about knowledge and do not practise asceticism (zuhd) become zindíqs (heretics); and those who are satisfied with jurisprudence (fiqh) and do not practise abstinence (wara`)become wicked.” This means that Unification (tawḥíd), without works, is predestination (jabr), whereas the assertor of Unification ought to hold the doctrine of predestination but to act as though he believed in free will, taking a middle course between free will and predestination. Such is the true sense of another saying uttered by the same spiritual guide, viz.: “Unification is below predestination and above free will.”

Lack of positive religion and of morality arises from heedlessness (ghaflat). Well said that great master, Yaḥyá b. Mu`ádh al-Rází: “Avoid the society of three classes of men—heedless savants, hypocritical Koran-readers, and ignorant pretenders to Ṣúfiism.” The heedless savants are they who have set their hearts on worldly gain and paid court to governors and tyrants, and have been seduced by their own cleverness to spend their time in subtle disputations, and have attacked the leading authorities on religion. The hypocritical Koran-readers are they who praise whatever is done in accordance with their desire, even if it is bad, and blame whatever they dislike, even if it is good: they seek to ingratiate themselves with the people by acting hypocritically. The ignorant pretenders to Ṣúfiism are they who have never associated with a spiritual director (pír), nor learned discipline from a shaykh, but without any experience have thrown themselves among the people, and have donned a blue mantle (kabúdí), and have trodden the path of unrestraint.

Abú Yazíd Bisṭámí says: “I strove in the spiritual combat for thirty years, and I found nothing harder to me than knowledge and its pursuit.” It is more easy for human nature to walk on fire than to follow the road of knowledge, and an ignorant heart will more readily cross the Bridge (Ṣiráṭ) a thousand times than learn a single piece of knowledge; and the wicked man would rather pitch his tent in Hell than put one item of knowledge into practice. Accordingly you must learn knowledge and seek perfection therein. The perfection of human knowledge is ignorance of Divine knowledge. You must know enough to know that you do not know. That is to say, human knowledge is alone possible to Man, and humanity is the greatest barrier that separates him from Divinity. As the poet says:—

Al-`ajzu `an daraki ´l-idráki idráku

Wa ´l-waqfu fí ṭuruqi ´l-akhyári ishráku.

“True perception is to despair of attaining perception,

But not to advance on the paths of the virtuous is polytheism.”

He who will not learn and perseveres in his ignorance is a polytheist, but to the learner, when his knowledge becomes perfect, the reality is revealed, and he perceives that his knowledge is no more than inability to know what his end shall be, since realities are not affected by the names bestowed upon them.

[21]. The period within which a woman, who has been divorced or whose husband has died, may not marry again.

[22]. The point to which a Moslem turns his face when worshipping, viz. the Ka`ba.

[23]. “Time” (waqt) is used by Muḥammadan mystics to denote the spiritual state in which anyone finds himself, and by which he is dominated at the moment. The expression `ilm-i waqt occurs again in the notice of Abú Sulaymán al-Dárání (chapter x, No. 17), where waqt is explained as meaning “the preservation of one’s spiritual state”. According to a definition given by Sahl b. `Abdallah al-Tustarí, waqt is “search for knowledge of the state, i.e. the decision (ḥukm) of a man’s state, which exists between him and God in this world and hereafter”.

[24]. A famous Ṣúfí of Níshápúr, who died in 359 A.H. (Nafaḥát, No. 118).

[25]. Also a native of Níshápúr. He died in 328 A.H. (Nafaḥát, No. 248).

CHAPTER II.
On Poverty.

Know that Poverty has a high rank in the Way of Truth, and that the poor are greatly esteemed, as God said: “(Give alms) unto the poor, who are kept fighting in God’s cause and cannot go to and fro on the earth; whom the ignorant deem rich forasmuch as they refrain (from begging).”[^[26]] And again: “Their sides are lifted from their beds while they call on their Lord in fear and hope” (Kor. xxxii, 16). Moreover, the Prophet chose poverty and said: “O God, make me live lowly and die lowly and rise from the dead amongst the lowly!” And he also said: “On the day of Resurrection God will say, ‘Bring ye My loved ones nigh unto Me;’ then the angels will say, ‘Who are Thy loved ones?’ and God will answer them, saying, ‘The poor and destitute.’” There are many verses of the Koran and Traditions to the same effect, which on account of their celebrity need not be mentioned here. Among the Refugees (Muhájirín) in the Prophet’s time were poor men (fuqará) who sat in his mosque and devoted themselves to the worship of God, and firmly believed that God would give them their daily bread, and put their trust (tawakkul) in Him. The Prophet was enjoined to consort with them and take due care of them; for God said: “Do not repulse those who call on their Lord in the morning and in the evening, desiring His favour” (Kor. vi, 52). Hence, whenever the Prophet saw one of them, he used to say: “May my father and mother be your sacrifice! since it was for your sakes that God reproached me.”

God, therefore, has exalted Poverty and has made it a special distinction of the poor, who have renounced all things external and internal, and have turned entirely to the Causer; whose poverty has become their pride, so that they lamented its going and rejoiced at its coming, and embraced it and deemed all else contemptible.

Now, Poverty has a form (rasm) and an essence (ḥaqíqat). Its form is destitution and indigence, but its essence is fortune and free choice. He who regards the form rests in the form and, failing to attain his object, flees from the essence; but he who has found the essence averts his gaze from all created things, and, in complete annihilation, seeing only the All-One he hastens towards the fullness of eternal life (ba-faná-yi kull andar ru´yat-i kull ba-baqá-yi kull shitáft). The poor man (faqír) has nothing and can suffer no loss. He does not become rich by having anything, nor indigent by having nothing: both these conditions are alike to him in respect of his poverty. It is permitted that he should be more joyful when he has nothing, for the Shaykhs have said: “The more straitened one is in circumstances, the more expansive (cheerful and happy) is one’s (spiritual) state,” because it is unlucky for a dervish to have property: if he “imprisons” anything (dar band kunad) for his own use, he himself is “imprisoned” in the same proportion. The friends of God live by means of His secret bounties. Worldly wealth holds them back from the path of quietism (riḍá).

Story. A dervish met a king. The king said: “Ask a boon of me.” The dervish replied: “I will not ask a boon from one of my slaves.” “How is that?” said the king. The dervish said: “I have two slaves who are thy masters: covetousness and expectation.”

The Prophet said: “Poverty is glorious to those who are worthy of it.” Its glory consists in this, that the poor man’s body is divinely preserved from base and sinful acts, and his heart from evil and contaminating thoughts, because his outward parts are absorbed in (contemplation of) the manifest blessings of God, while his inward parts are protected by invisible grace, so that his body is spiritual (rúḥání) and his heart divine (rabbání). Then no relation subsists between him and mankind: this world and the next weigh less than a gnat’s wing in the scales of his poverty: he is not contained in the two worlds for a single moment.

Section.

The Ṣúfí Shaykhs differ in opinion as to whether poverty or wealth is superior, both being regarded as human attributes; for true wealth (ghiná) belongs to God, who is perfect in all His attributes. Yaḥyá b. Mu`ádh al-Rází, Aḥmad b. Abi ´l-Ḥawárí, Ḥárith al-Muḥásibí, Abu ´l-`Abbás b. `Aṭá, Ruwaym, Abu ´l-Ḥasan b. Sim`ún,[^[27]] and among the moderns the Grand Shaykh Abú Sa`íd Faḍlallah b. Muḥammad al-Mayhaní, all hold the view that wealth is superior to poverty. They argue that wealth is an attribute of God, whereas poverty cannot be ascribed to Him: therefore an attribute common to God and Man is superior to one that is not applicable to God. I answer: “This community of designation is merely nominal, and has no existence in reality: real community involves mutual resemblance, but the Divine attributes are eternal and the human attributes are created; hence your proof is false.” I, who am `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, declare that wealth is a term that may fitly be applied to God, but one to which Man has no right; while poverty is a term that may properly be applied to Man, but not to God. Metaphorically a man is called “rich”, but he is not really so. Again, to give a clearer proof, human wealth is an effect due to various causes, whereas the wealth of God, who Himself is the Author of all causes, is not due to any cause. Therefore there is no community in regard to this attribute. It is not allowable to associate anything with God either in essence, attribute, or name. The wealth of God consists in His independence of anyone and in His power to do whatsoever He wills: such He has always been and such He shall be for ever. Man’s wealth, on the other hand, is, for example, a means of livelihood, or the presence of joy, or the being saved from sin, or the solace of contemplation; which things are all of phenomenal nature and subject to change.

Furthermore, some of the vulgar prefer the rich man to the poor, on the ground that God has made the former blest in both worlds and has bestowed the benefit of riches on him. Here they mean by “wealth” abundance of worldly goods and enjoyment of pleasures and pursuit of lusts. They argue that God has commanded us to be thankful for wealth and patient in poverty, i.e. patient in adversity and thankful in prosperity; and that prosperity is essentially better than adversity. To this I reply that, when God commanded us to be thankful for prosperity He made thankfulness the means of increasing our prosperity; but when He commanded us to be patient in adversity He made patience the means of drawing nigh unto Himself. He said: “Verily, if ye return thanks, I will give you an increase” (Kor. xiv, 7), and also, “God is with the patient” (Kor. ii, 148).

The Shaykhs who prefer wealth to poverty do not use the term “wealth” in its popular sense. What they intend is not “acquisition of a benefit” but “acquisition of the Benefactor”; to gain union (with God) is a different thing from gaining forgetfulness (of God). Shaykh Abú Sa`íd [^[28]]—God have mercy on him!—says: “Poverty is wealth in God” (al-faqr huwa ´l-ghiná billáh), i.e. everlasting revelation of the Truth. I answer to this, that revelation (mukáshafat) implies the possibility of a veil (ḥijáb); therefore, if the person who enjoys revelation is veiled from revelation by the attribute of wealth, he either becomes in need of revelation or he does not; if he does not, the conclusion is absurd, and if he does, need is incompatible with wealth; therefore that term cannot stand. Besides, no one has “wealth in God” unless his attributes are permanent and his object is invariable; wealth cannot coincide with the subsistence of an object or with the affirmation of the attributes of human nature, inasmuch as the essential characteristics of mortality and phenomenal being are need and indigence. One whose attributes still survive is not rich, and one whose attributes are annihilated is not entitled to any name whatever. Therefore “the rich man is he who is enriched by God” (al-ghaní man aghnáhu ´lláh), because the term “rich in God” refers to the agent (fá`il), whereas the term “enriched by God” denotes the person acted upon (maf`úl); the former is self-subsistent, but the latter subsists through the agent; accordingly self-subsistence is an attribute of human nature, while subsistence through God involves the annihilation of attributes. I, then, who am `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, assert that true wealth is incompatible with the survival (baqá) of any attribute, since human attributes have already been shown to be defective and subject to decay; nor, again, does wealth consist in the annihilation of these attributes, because a name cannot be given to an attribute that no longer exists, and he whose attributes are annihilated cannot be called either “poor” or “rich”; therefore the attribute of wealth is not transferable from God to Man, and the attribute of poverty is not transferable from Man to God.

All the Ṣúfí Shaykhs and most of the vulgar prefer poverty to wealth for the reason that the Koran and the Sunna expressly declare it to be superior, and herein the majority of Moslems are agreed. I find, among the anecdotes which I have read, that on one occasion this question was discussed by Junayd and Ibn `Aṭá. The latter maintained the superiority of the rich. He argued that at the Resurrection they would be called to account for their wealth, and that such an account (ḥisáb) entails the hearing of the Divine Word, without any mediation, in the form of reproach (`itáb): and reproach is addressed by the Beloved to the lover. Junayd answered: “If He will call the rich to account, He will ask the poor for their excuse; and asking an excuse is better than calling to account.” This is a very subtle point. In true love excuse is “otherness” (bégánagí) and reproach is contrary to unity (yagánagí). Lovers regard both these things as a blemish, because excuse is made for some disobedience to the command of the Beloved and reproach is made on the same score; but both are impossible in true love, for then neither does the Beloved require an expiation from the lover nor does the lover neglect to perform the will of the Beloved.

Every man is “poor”, even though he be a prince. Essentially the wealth of Solomon and the poverty of Solomon are one. God said to Job in the extremity of his patience, and likewise to Solomon in the plenitude of his dominion: “Good servant that thou art!”[^[29]] When God’s pleasure was accomplished, it made no difference between the poverty and the wealth of Solomon.

The author says: “I have heard that Abu ´l-Qásim Qushayrí—God have mercy on him!—said: ‘People have spoken much concerning poverty and wealth, and have chosen one or the other for themselves, but I choose whichever state God chooses for me and keeps me in; if He keeps me rich I will not be forgetful, and if He wishes me to be poor I will not be covetous and rebellious.’” Therefore, both wealth and poverty are Divine gifts: wealth is corrupted by forgetfulness, poverty by covetousness. Both conceptions are excellent, but they differ in practice. Poverty is the separation of the heart from all but God, and wealth is the preoccupation of the heart with that which does not admit of being qualified. When the heart is cleared (of all except God), poverty is not better than wealth nor is wealth better than poverty. Wealth is abundance of worldly goods and poverty is lack of them: all goods belong to God: when the seeker bids farewell to property, the antithesis disappears and both terms are transcended.

Section.

All the Ṣúfí Shaykhs have spoken on the subject of poverty. I will now cite as many of their sayings as it is possible to include in this book.

One of the moderns says: Laysa ´l-faqír man khalá min al-zád: innama ´l-faqír man khalá min al-murád, “The poor man is not he whose hand is empty of provisions, but he whose nature is empty of desires.” For example, if God gives him money and he desires to keep it, then he is rich; and if he desires to renounce it, he is rich no less, because poverty consists in ceasing to act on one’s own initiative. Yaḥyá b. Mu`ádh al-Rází says: Al-faqr khawf al-faqr, “It is a sign of true poverty that, although one has reached the perfection of saintship and contemplation and self-annihilation, one should always be dreading its decline and departure.” And Ruwaym says: Min na`t al-faqír ḥifṣu sirrihi wa-ṣiyánatu nafsihi wa-adá´u faríḍatihi, “It is characteristic of the poor man that his heart is protected from selfish cares, and that his soul is guarded from contaminations, and that he performs the obligatory duties of religion:” that is to say, his inward meditations do not interfere with his outward acts, nor vice versâ; which is a sign that he has cast off the attributes of mortality. Bishr Ḥáfí says: Afḍal al-maqámát i`tiqád al-ṣabr `ala ´l-faqr ila ´l-qabr, “The best of ‘stations’ is a firm resolution to endure poverty continually.” Now poverty is the annihilation of all “stations”: therefore the resolution to endure poverty is a sign of regarding works and actions as imperfect, and of aspiring to annihilate human attributes. But in its obvious sense this saying pronounces poverty to be superior to wealth, and expresses a determination never to abandon it. Sḥiblí says: Al-faqír man lá yastaghní bi-shay´ⁱⁿ dúna ´lláh, “The poor man does not rest content with anything except God,” because he has no other object of desire. The literal meaning is that you will not become rich except by Him, and that when you have gained Him you have become rich. Your being, then, is other than God; and since you cannot gain wealth except by renouncing “other”, your “you-ness” is a veil between you and wealth: when that is removed, you are rich. This saying is very subtle and obscure. In the opinion of advanced spiritualists (ahl-i ḥaqíqat) it means: Al-faqr an lá yustaghná `anhu, “Poverty consists in never being independent of poverty.” This is what the Pír, i.e. Master `Abdalláh Anṣárí [^[30]]—may God be well-pleased with him!—meant when he said that our sorrow is everlasting, that our aspiration never reaches its goal, and that our sum (kulliyyat) never becomes non-existent in this world or the next, because for the fruition of anything homogeneity is necessary, but God has no congener, and for turning away from Him forgetfulness is necessary, but the dervish is not forgetful. What an endless task, what a difficult road! The dead (fání) never become living (báqí), so as to be united with Him; the living never become dead, so as to approach His presence. All that His lovers do and suffer is entirely a probation (miḥnat); but in order to console themselves they have invented a fine-sounding phraseology (`ibáratí muzakhraf) and have produced “stations” and “stages” and a “path”. Their symbolic expressions, however, begin and end in themselves, and their “stations” do not rise beyond their own genus, whereas God is exempt from every human attribute and relationship. Abu ´l-Ḥasan Núrí says: Na`t al-faqír al-sukún `inda ´l-`adam wa ´l-badhl `inda ´l-wujúd; and he says also: Al-iḍṭiráb `inda ´l-wujúd, “When he gets nothing he is silent, and when he gets something he regards another person as better entitled to it than himself, and therefore gives it away.” The practice enunciated in this saying is of great importance. There are two meanings: (1) His quiescence when he gets nothing is satisfaction (riḍá), and his liberality when he gets something is love (maḥabbat), because “satisfied” means “accepting a robe of honour” (qábil-i khil`at), and the robe of honour is a token of proximity (qurbat) whereas the lover (muḥibb) rejects the robe of honour inasmuch as it is a token of severance (furqat); and (2) his quiescence when he gets nothing is expectation of getting something, and when he has got it, that “something” is other than God: he cannot be satisfied with anything other than God; therefore he rejects it. Both these meanings are implicit in the saying of the Grand Shaykh, Abu ´l-Qásim Junayd: Al-faqr khuluww al-qalb `an al-ashkál, “When his heart is empty of phenomena he is poor.” Since the existence of phenomena is “other” (than God), rejection is the only course possible. Shiblí says: Al-faqr baḥr al-balá wa-balá´uhu kulluhu `izz^un, “Poverty is a sea of trouble, and all troubles for His sake are glorious.” Glory is a portion of “other”. The afflicted are plunged in trouble and know nothing of glory, until they forget their trouble and regard the Author thereof. Then their trouble is changed into glory, and their glory into a spiritual state (waqt), and their spiritual state into love, and their love into contemplation, so that finally the brain of the aspirant becomes wholly a centre of vision through the predominance of his imagination: he sees without eye, and hears without ear. Again, it is glorious for a man to bear the burden of trouble laid upon him by his Beloved, for in truth misfortune is glory, and prosperity is humiliation. Glory is that which makes one present with God, and humiliation is that which makes one absent from God: the affliction of poverty is a sign of “presence”, while the delight of riches is a sign of “absence”. Therefore one should cling to trouble of any description that involves contemplation and intimacy. Junayd says: Yá ma`shar al-fuqará innakum tu`rafúna billáh wa-tukra-múna lilláh fa-´nẕurú kayfa takúnúna ma`a a ´lláh idhá khalawtum bihi, “O ye that are poor, ye are known through God, and are honoured for the sake of God: take heed how ye behave when ye are alone with Him,” i.e. if people call you “poor” and recognize your claim, see that you perform the obligations of the path of poverty; and if they give you another name, inconsistent with what you profess, do not accept it, but fulfil your professions. The basest of men is he who is thought to be devoted to God, but really is not; and the noblest is he who is not thought to be devoted to God, but really is. The former resembles an ignorant physician, who pretends to cure people, but only makes them worse, and when he falls ill himself needs another physician to prescribe for him; and the latter is like one who is not known to be a physician, and does not concern himself with other folk, but employs his skill in order to maintain his own health. One of the moderns has said: Al-faqr `adam^un bilá wujúdⁱⁿ, “Poverty is not-being without existence.” To interpret this saying is impossible, because what is non-existent does not admit of being explained. On the surface it would seem that, according to this dictum, poverty is nothing, but such is not the case; the explanations and consensus of the Saints of God are not founded on a principle that is essentially non-existent. The meaning here is not “the not-being of the essence”, but “the not-being of that which contaminates the essence”; and all human attributes are a source of contamination: when that is removed, the result is annihilation of the attributes (faná-yi ṣifat), which deprives the sufferer of the instrument whereby he attains, or fails to attain, his object; but his not-going to the essence (`adam-i rawish ba-`ayn) seems to him annihilation of the essence and casts him into perdition.

I have met with some scholastic philosophers who, failing to understand the drift of this saying, laughed at it and declared it to be nonsense; and also with certain pretenders (to Ṣúfiism) who made nonsense of it and were firmly convinced of its truth, although they had no grasp of the fundamental principle. Both parties are in the wrong: one ignorantly denies the truth, and the other makes ignorance a state (of perfection). Now the expressions “not-being” (`adam) and “annihilation” (faná), as they are used by Ṣúfís, denote the disappearance of a blameworthy instrument (álat-i madhmúm) and disapproved attribute in the course of seeking a praiseworthy attribute; they do not signify the search for non-reality (`adam-i ma`ní) by means of an instrument which exists.

Dervishhood in all its meanings is a metaphorical poverty, and amidst all its subordinate aspects there is a transcendent principle. The Divine mysteries come and go over the dervish, so that his affairs are acquired by himself, his actions attributed to himself, and his ideas attached to himself. But when his affairs are freed from the bonds of acquisition (kasb), his actions are no more attributed to himself. Then he is the Way, not the wayfarer, i.e. the dervish is a place over which something is passing, not a wayfarer following his own will. Accordingly, he neither draws anything to himself nor puts anything away from himself: all that leaves any trace upon him belongs to the essence.

I have seen false Ṣúfís, mere tonguesters (arbáb al-lisán), whose imperfect apprehension of this matter seemed to deny the existence of the essence of poverty, while their lack of desire for the reality of poverty seemed to deny the attributes of its essence. They called by the name of “poverty” and “purity” their failure to seek Truth and Reality, and it looked as though they affirmed their own fancies but denied all else. Every one of them was in some degree veiled from poverty, because the conceit of Ṣúfiism (pindár-i ín ḥadíth) betokens perfection of saintship, and the claim to be suspected of Ṣúfiism (tawallá-yi tuhmat-i ín ḥadíth) is the ultimate goal, i.e. this claim belongs only to the state of perfection. Therefore the seeker has no choice but to journey in their path and to traverse their “stations” and to know their symbolic expressions, in order that he may not be a plebeian (`ámmí) among the elect. Those who are ignorant of general principles (`awámm-i uṣúl) have no ground to stand on, whereas those who are ignorant only as regards the derivative branches are supported by the principles. I have said all this to encourage you to undertake this spiritual journey and occupy yourself with the due fulfilment of its obligations.

Now in the chapter on Ṣúfiism I will explain some of the principles and allegories and mystic sayings of this sect. Then I will mention the names of their holy men, and afterwards elucidate the different doctrines held by the Ṣúfi Shaykhs. In the next place, I will treat of the Verities, Sciences, and Laws of Ṣúfiism. Lastly, I will set forth their rules of discipline and the significance of their “stations”, in order that the truth of this matter may become clear to you and to all my readers.

[26]. Kor. ii, 274.

[27]. See Nafaḥát, No. 291, where his “name of honour” is given as Abu ´l-Ḥusayn.

[28]. See Chapter XII, No. [5].

[29]. Kor. xxxviii, 29, 44.

[30]. The celebrated mystic of Herát, who died in 481 A.H. See Professor Browne’s Literary History of Persia, vol. ii, p. 269.

CHAPTER III.
On Ṣúfiism.

God, Almighty and Glorious, has said: “And those who walk meekly on the earth, and when the ignorant speak to them answer ‘Peace’,” (shall be rewarded with the highest place in Paradise).[^[31]] And the Apostle has said: “He that hears the voice of Ṣúfís (ahl al-taṣawwuf) and does not say Amen to their prayer is inscribed before God among the heedless.” The true meaning of this name has been much discussed and many books have been composed on the subject. Some assert that the Ṣúfí is so called because he wears a woollen garment (jáma´-i ṣúf); others that he is so called because he is in the first rank (ṣaff-i awwal); others say it is because the Ṣúfís claim to belong to the Aṣḥáb-i Ṣuffa,[^[32]] with whom may God be well-pleased! Others, again, declare that the name is derived from ṣafá (purity). These explanations of the true meaning of Ṣúfiism are far from satisfying the requirements of etymology, although each of them is supported by many subtle arguments. Ṣafá (purity) is universally praised, and its opposite is kadar. The Apostle—on whom be peace!—said: “The ṣafw (pure part, i.e. the best) of this world is gone, and only its kadar (impurity) remains.” Therefore, since the people of this persuasion have purged their morals and conduct, and have sought to free themselves from natural taints, on that account they are called Ṣúfís; and this designation of the sect is a proper name (az asámi-yi a`lám), inasmuch as the dignity of the Ṣúfís is too great for their transactions (mu`ámalát) to be hidden, so that their name should need a derivation. In this age, however, God has veiled most people from Ṣúfiism and from its votaries, and has concealed its mysteries from their hearts. Accordingly some imagine that it consists merely in the practice of outward piety without inward contemplation, and others suppose that it is a form and a system without essence and root, to such an extent that they have adopted the view of scoffers (ahl-i hazl) and theologians (`ulamá), who regard only the external, and have condemned Ṣùfiism altogether, making no attempt to discover what it really is. The people in general, blindly conforming to this opinion, have erased from their hearts the quest for inward purity and have discarded the tenets of the Ancients and the Companions of the Prophet. Verily, purity is characteristic of the Ṣiddíq,[^[33]] if thou desirest a true Ṣúfí—because purity (ṣafá) has a root and a branch: its root being severance of the heart from “others” (aghyár), and its branch that the heart should be empty of this deceitful world. Both these are characteristic of the Greatest Ṣiddíq, (the Caliph) Abú Bakr `Abdalláh b. Abí Quḥáfa, with whom may God be well-pleased! He is the leader (imám) of all the folk of this Path.

[The author then relates how, on Muḥammad’s decease, when `Umar threatened to decapitate anyone who asserted that the Prophet was dead, Abú Bakr stepped forth and cried with a loud voice: “Whoever worships Muḥammad, let him know that Muḥammad is dead; but whoever worships Muḥammad’s Lord, let him know that He is living and dieth not.” Those who regarded Muḥammad with the eye of mortality ceased to venerate him as soon as he departed from this world, but to those who regarded him with the eye of reality his presence and absence were alike, because they attributed both to God; and looked, not at the particular change which had come to pass, but at the Author of all change; and venerated Muḥammad only in proportion as God honoured him; and did not attach their hearts to anyone (except God); and did not open their eyes to gaze upon mankind, inasmuch as “he that beholdeth mankind waneth, but he that returneth unto God reigneth” (man naẕara ila ´l-khalq halak wa-man raja`a ila ´l-ḥaqq malak). And Abú Bakr showed that his heart was empty of this deceitful world, for he gave away all his wealth and his clients (mawálí), and clad himself in a woollen garment (gilím), and came to the Apostle, who asked him what he had left for his family. Abú Bakr replied: “Only God and His Apostle.” All this is characteristic of the sincere Ṣúfí.]

I said that ṣafá (purity) is the opposite of kadar (impurity), and kadar is one of the qualities of Man. The true Ṣúfí is he that leaves impurity behind. Thus, human nature (bashariyyat) prevailed in the women of Egypt as they gazed, enraptured, on the wondrous beauty of Yúsuf (Joseph), on whom be peace! But afterwards the preponderance was reversed, until at last they beheld him with their human nature annihilated (ba-faná-yi bashariyyat) and cried: “This is no human being” (Kor. xii, 31). They made him their object and gave expression to their own state. Hence the Shaykhs of this Path—God have mercy on them!—have said: Laysa ´l-ṣafá min ṣifat al-bashar li´anna ´l-bashar madar wa´l-madar lá yakhlú min al-kadar, “Purity is not one of the qualities of Man, for Man is clay, and clay involves impurity, and Man cannot escape from impurity.” Therefore purity bears no likeness to acts (af`ál), nor can the human nature be destroyed by means of effort. The quality of purity is unrelated to acts and states, and its name is unconnected with names and nicknames—purity is characteristic of the lovers (of God), who are suns without cloud—because purity is the attribute of those who love, and the lover is he that is dead (fání) in his own attributes and living (báqí) in the attributes of his Beloved, and their “states” resemble the clear sun in the opinion of mystics (arbáb-i ḥál). The beloved of God, Muḥammad the Chosen One, was asked concerning the state of Ḥáritha. He answered: `Abd nawwara ´lláh qalbahu bi ´l-ímán, “He is a man whose heart is illumined by the light of faith, so that his face shines like the moon from the effect thereof, and he is formed by the Divine light.” An eminent Ṣúfí says: Ḍiyá al-shams wa´l-qamar idha ´shtaraká namúdhaj^un min ṣafá al-ḥubb wa ´l-tawḥíd idha ´shtabaká, “The combination of the light of the sun and moon, when they are in conjunction, is like the purity of Love and Unification when these are mingled together.” Assuredly, the light of the sun and moon is worthless beside the light of the Love and Unification of God Almighty, and they should not be compared; but in this world there is no light more conspicuous than those two luminaries. The eye cannot see the light of the sun and moon with complete demonstration. During the sway of the sun and moon it sees the sky, whereas the heart (dil) sees the empyrean (`arsh) by the light of knowledge and unification and love, and while still in this world explores the world to come. All the Shaykhs of this Path are agreed that when a man has escaped from the captivity of “stations” (maqámát), and gets rid of the impurity of “states” (aḥwál), and is liberated from the abode of change and decay, and becomes endowed with all praiseworthy qualities, he is disjoined from all qualities. That is to say, he is not held in bondage by any praiseworthy quality of his own, nor does he regard it, nor is he made self-conceited thereby. His state is hidden from the perception of intelligences, and his time is exempt from the influence of thoughts. His presence (ḥuḍúr) with God has no end and his existence has no cause. And when he arrives at this degree, he becomes annihilated (fání) in this world and in the next, and is made divine (rabbání) in the disappearance of humanity; and gold and earth are the same in his eyes, and the ordinances which others find hard to keep become easy to him.

[Here follows the story of Ḥáritha, who declared that he had true faith in God. The Prophet asked: “What is the reality of thy faith?” Ḥáritha replied: “I have cut off and turned myself away from this world, so that its stones and its gold and its silver and its clay are equal in my sight. And I have passed my nights in wakefulness and my days in thirst until methinks I see the Throne of my Lord manifest, and the people of Paradise visiting one another, and the people of Hell wrestling with one another”[^[34]] (or, according to an alternative reading: “making sudden attacks on one another”).[^[35]] The Prophet said, repeating the words thrice: “Thou knowest, therefore persevere.”]

“Ṣúfí” is a name which is given, and has formerly been given, to the perfect saints and spiritual adepts. One of the Shaykhs says: Man ṣaffáhu ´l-ḥubb fa-huwa ṣáfⁱⁿ wa-man ṣaffáhu ´l-ḥabíb fa-huwa Ṣúfiyy^un, “He that is purified by love is pure, and he that is absorbed in the Beloved and has abandoned all else is a ‘Ṣúfí’.” The name has no derivation answering to etymological requirements, inasmuch as Ṣúfiism is too exalted to have any genus from which it might be derived; for the derivation of one thing from another demands homogeneity (mujánasat). All that exists is the opposite of purity (ṣafá), and things are not derived from their opposites. To Ṣúfís the meaning of Ṣúfiism is clearer than the sun and does not need any explanation or indication. Since “Ṣúfí” admits of no explanation, all the world are interpreters thereof, whether they recognize the dignity of the name or no at the time when they learn its meaning. The perfect, then, among them are called Ṣúfí, and the inferior aspirants (ṭálibán) among them are called Mutaṣawwif; for taṣawwuf belongs to the form tafa``ul, which implies “taking trouble” (takalluf),[^[36]] and is a branch of the original root. The difference both in meaning and in etymology is evident. Purity (ṣafá) is a saintship with a sign and a relation (riwáyat), and Ṣúfiism (taṣawwuf) is an uncomplaining imitation of purity (ḥikáyat^un li´l-ṣafá bilá shikáyat). Purity, then, is a resplendent and manifest idea, and Ṣúfiism is an imitation of that idea. Its followers in this degree are of three kinds: the Ṣúfí, the Mutaṣawwif, and the Mustaṣwif. The Ṣúfí is he that is dead to self and living by the Truth; he has escaped from the grip of human faculties and has really attained (to God). The Mutaṣawwif is he that seeks to reach this rank by means of self-mortification (mujáhadat) and in his search rectifies his conduct in accordance with their (the Ṣúfís’) example. The Mustaṣwif is he that makes himself like them (the Ṣúfís) for the sake of money and wealth and power and worldly advantage, but has no knowledge of these two things.[^[37]] Hence it has been said: Al-mustaṣwif `inda ´l-Ṣúfiyyat ka-´l-dhubáb wa-`inda ghayrihim ka-´l-dhi´áb, “The Mustaṣwif in the opinion of the Ṣúfís is as despicable as flies, and his actions are mere cupidity; others regard him as being like a wolf, and his speech unbridled (bé afsár), for he only desires a morsel of carrion.” Therefore the Ṣúfí is a man of union (ṣáḥib wuṣúl), the Mutaṣawwif a man of principles, (ṣáḥib uṣúl), and the Mustaṣwif a man of superfluities (ṣáḥib fuḍúl). He that has the portion of union loses all end and object by gaining his end and reaching his object; he that has the portion of principle becomes firm in the “states” of the mystic path, and steadfastly devoted to the mysteries thereof; but he that has the portion of superfluity, is left devoid of all (worth having), and sits down at the gate of formality (rasm), and thereby he is veiled from reality (ma`ní) and this veil renders both union and principle invisible to him. The Shaykhs of this persuasion have given many subtle definitions of Ṣúfiism which cannot all be enumerated, but we shall mention some of them in this book, if God will, who is the Author of success.

Section.

Dhu ´l-Nún, the Egyptian, says: Al-Ṣúfí idhá naṭaqa bána nuṭquhu `an al-ḥaqá´iq wa-in sakata naṭaqat `anhu ´l-jawáriḥ bi-qaṭ` al-`alá´iq, “The Ṣúfí is he whose language, when he speaks, is the reality of his state, i.e. he says nothing which he is not, and when he is silent his conduct explains his state, and his state proclaims that he has cut all worldly ties;” i.e. all that he says is based on a sound principle and all that he does is pure detachment from the world (tajríd); when he speaks his speech is entirely the Truth, and when he is silent his actions are wholly “poverty” (faqr). Junayd says: Al-taṣawwuf na`t^un uqíma ´l-`abd fíhi qíla na`t^un li-´l-`abd am li-´l-ḥaqq faqála na`t al-ḥaqq ḥaqíqat^an wa-na`t al-`abd rasm^an, “Ṣúfiism is an attribute wherein is Man’s subsistence.” They said: “Is it an attribute of God or of mankind?” He replied: “Its essence is an attribute of God and its formal system is an attribute of mankind;” i.e. its essence involves the annihilation of human qualities, which is brought about by the everlastingness of the Divine qualities, and this is an attribute of God; whereas its formal system involves on the part of Man the continuance of self-mortification (mujáhadat), and this continuance of self-mortification is an attribute of Man. Or the words may be taken in another sense, namely, that in real Unification (tawḥíd) there are, correctly speaking, no human attributes at all, because human attributes are not constant but are only formal (rasm), having no permanence, for God is the agent. Therefore they are really the attributes of God. Thus (to explain what is meant), God commands His servants to fast, and when they keep the fast He gives them the name of “faster” (ṣá´im), and nominally this “fasting” (ṣawm) belongs to Man, but really it belongs to God. Accordingly God told His Apostle and said: Al-ṣawm lí wa-ana ajzí bihi, “Fasting is mine,” because all His acts are His possessions, and when men ascribe things to themselves, the attribution is formal and metaphorical, not real. And Abu ´l-Ḥasan Núrí says: Al-taṣawwuf tarku kulli ḥaẕẕⁱⁿ li-´l-nafs, “Ṣúfiism is the renunciation of all selfish pleasures.” This renunciation is of two kinds: formal and essential. For example, if one renounces a pleasure, and finds pleasure in the renunciation, this is formal renunciation; but if the pleasure renounces him, then the pleasure is annihilated, and this case falls under the head of true contemplation (musháhadat). Therefore renunciation of pleasure is the act of Man, but annihilation of pleasure is the act of God. The act of Man is formal and metaphorical, while the act of God is real. This saying (of Núrí) elucidates the saying of Junayd which has been quoted above. And Abu ´l-Ḥasan Núrí also says: Al-Ṣúfiyyat humu ´lladhína ṣafat arwáḥuhum fa-ṣárú fi ´l-ṣaff al-awwal bayna yadayi ´l-ḥaqq, “The Ṣúfís are they whose spirits have been freed from the pollution of humanity, purified from carnal taint, and released from concupiscence, so that they have found rest with God in the first rank and the highest degree, and have fled from all save Him.” And he also says: Al-Ṣúfí alladhí lá yamlik wa-lá yumlak, “The Ṣúfí is he that has nothing in his possession nor is himself possessed by anything.” This denotes the essence of annihilation (faná), since one whose qualities are annihilated neither possesses nor is possessed, inasmuch as the term “possession” can properly be applied only to existent things. The meaning is, that the Ṣúfí does not make his own any good of this world or any glory of the next world, for he is not even in the possession and control of himself: he refrains from desiring authority over others, in order that others may not desire submission from him. This saying refers to a mystery of the Ṣúfí’s which they call “complete annihilation” (faná-yi kullí). If God will, we shall mention in this work, for your information, the points wherein they have fallen into error.

Ibn al-Jallá [^[38]] says: Al-taṣawwuf ḥaqíqat^un lá rasm lahu, “Ṣúfiism is an essence without form,” because the form belongs to mankind in respect to their conduct (mu`ámalát), while the essence thereof is peculiar to God. Since Ṣúfiism consists in turning away from mankind, it is necessarily without form. And Abú `Amr Dimashqí says: Al-taṣawwuf ru´yat al-kawn bi-`ayn al-naqṣ, bal ghaḍḍ al-ṭarf `an al-kawn, “Ṣúfiism is: to see the imperfection of the phenomenal world (and this shows that human attributes are still existent), nay, to shut the eye to the phenomenal world” (and this shows that human attributes are annihilated; because the objects of sight are phenomena, and when phenomena disappear, sight also disappears). Shutting the eye to the phenomenal world leaves the spiritual vision subsistent, i.e. whoever becomes blind to self sees by means of God, because the seeker of phenomena is also a self-seeker, and his action proceeds from and through himself, and he cannot find any way of escaping from himself. Accordingly one sees himself to be imperfect, and one shuts his eye to self and does not see; and although the seer sees his imperfection, nevertheless his eye is a veil, and he is veiled by his sight, but he who does not see is not veiled by his blindness. This is a well-established principle in the Path of aspirants to Ṣúfiism and mystics (arbáb-i ma`ání), but to explain it here would be unsuitable. And Abú Bakr Shiblí says: Al-taṣawwuf shirk^un li´annahu ṣiyánat al-qalb `an ru´yat al-ghayr wa-lá ghayr, “Ṣúfiism is polytheism, because it is the guarding of the heart from the vision of ‘other’, and ‘other’ does not exist.” That is to say, vision of other (than God) in affirming the Unity of God is polytheism, and when “other” has no value in the heart, it is absurd to guard the heart from remembrance of “other”. And Ḥusrí says: Al-taṣawwuf ṣafá al-sirr min kudúrat al-mukhálafat, “Ṣúfiism is the heart’s being pure from the pollution of discord.” The meaning thereof is that he should protect the heart from discord with God, because love is concord, and concord is the opposite of discord, and the lover has but one duty in the world, namely, to keep the commandment of the beloved; and if the object of desire is one, how can discord arise? And Muḥammad b. `Alí b. al-Ḥusayn b. `Alí b. Abí Ṭálib—may God be pleased with them all!—says: Al-taṣawwuf khulq^un fa-man záda `alayka fi ´l-khulq záda `alayka fi ´l-taṣawwuf, “Ṣúfiism is goodness of disposition: he that has the better disposition is the better Ṣúfí.” Now goodness of disposition is of two kinds: towards God and towards men. The former is acquiescence in the Divine decrees, the latter is endurance of the burden of men’s society for God’s sake. These two aspects refer to the seeker (ṭálib). God is independent of the seeker’s acquiescence or anger, and these two qualities depend on consideration of His Unity. And Abú Muḥammad Murta`ish says: Al-Ṣúfí lá yasbiqu himmatuhu khaṭwatahu, “The Ṣúfí is he whose thought keeps pace with his foot,” i.e. he is entirely present: his soul is where his body is, and his body where his soul is, and his soul where his foot is, and his foot where his soul is. This is the sign of presence without absence. Others say, on the contrary: “He is absent from himself and present with God.” It is not so: he is present with himself and present with God. The expression denotes perfect union (jam` al-jam`), because there can be no absence from self so long as one regards one’s self; when self-regard has ceased, there is presence (with God) without absence. In this particular sense the saying closely resembles that of Shiblí: Al-Ṣúfí lá yará fi ´l-dárayn ma`a ´lláh ghayra ´lláh, “The Ṣúfí is he that sees nothing except God in the two worlds.” In short, human existence is “other”, and when a man does not see “other” he does not see himself; and becomes totally void of self, whether “self” is affirmed or denied. And Junayd says: Al-taṣawwuf mabniyy^un `alá thamán khiṣál al-sakhá wa ´l-riḍá wa ´l-ṣabr wa ´l-ishárat wa ´l-ghurbat wa-labs al-ṣúf wa ´l-siyáḥat wa ´l-faqr amma ´l-sakhá fa-li-Ibráhím wa-amma ´l-riḍá fa-li-Ismá`íl wa-amma ´l-ṣabr fa-li-Ayyúb wa-amma ´l-ishárat fa-li-Zakariyyá wa-amma ´l-ghurbat fa-li-Yaḥyá wa-amma[wa-amma] labs al-ṣúf fa-li-Músá wa-amma ´l-siyáḥat fa-li-`Ísá wa-amma ´l-faqr fa-li-Muḥammad ṣalla ´lláhu `alayhi wa-sallama wa-`alayhim ajma`ín, “Ṣúfiism is founded on eight qualities exemplified in eight Apostles: the generosity of Abraham, who sacrificed his son; the acquiescence of Ishmael, who submitted to the command of God and gave up his dear life; the patience of Job, who patiently endured the affliction of worms and the jealousy of the Merciful; the symbolism of Zacharias, to whom God said, ‘Thou shalt not speak unto men for three days save by signs’ (Kor. iii, 36), and again to the same effect, ‘When he called upon his Lord with a secret invocation’ (Kor. xix, 2); the strangerhood of John, who was a stranger in his own country and an alien to his own kin amongst whom he lived; the pilgrimhood of Jesus, who was so detached therein from worldly things that he kept only a cup and a comb—the cup he threw away when he saw a man drinking water in the palms of his hands, and the comb likewise when he saw another man using his fingers instead of a toothpick; the wearing of wool by Moses, whose garment was woollen; and the poverty of Muḥammad, to whom God Almighty sent the key of all the treasures that are upon the face of the earth, saying: ‘Lay no trouble on thyself, but procure every luxury by means of these treasures;’ and he answered: ‘O Lord, I desire them not; keep me one day full-fed and one day hungry.’” These are very excellent principles of conduct.

And Ḥuṣrí says: Al-Ṣúfí la yújadu ba`da `adamihi wa-lá yu`damu ba`da wujúdihi, “The Ṣúfí is he whose existence is without non-existence and his non-existence without existence,” i.e. he never loses that which he finds, and he never finds that which he loses. Another meaning is this, that his finding (yáft) has no not-finding (ná-yáft), and his not-finding has no finding at any time, so that there is either an affirmation without negation or a negation without affirmation. The object of all these expressions is that the Ṣúfí’s state of mortality should entirely lapse, and that his bodily feelings (shawáhid) should disappear and his connexion with everything be cut off, in order that the mystery of his mortality may be revealed and his various parts united in his essential self, and that he may subsist through and in himself. The effect of this can be shown in two Apostles: firstly, Moses, in whose existence there was no non-existence, so that he said: “O Lord, enlarge my breast and make my affair easy unto me” (Kor. xx, 26, 27); secondly, the Apostle (Muḥammad), in whose non-existence there was no existence, so that God said: “Did not We enlarge thy breast?” (Kor. xciv, 1). The one asked for adornment and sought honour, but the other was adorned, since he had no request to make for himself.

And `Alí b. Bundár al-Ṣayrafí of Níshápúr says: Al-taṣawwuf isqáṭ al-ru´yat li-´l-ḥaqq ẕáhir^an wa-báṭin^an, “Ṣúfiism is this, that the Ṣúfí should not regard his own exterior and interior, but should regard all as belonging to God.” Thus, if you look at the exterior, you will find an outward sign of God’s blessing, and, as you look, outward actions will not have the weight even of a gnat’s wing beside the blessing of God, and you will cease from regarding the exterior; and again, if you look at the interior, you will find an inward sign of God’s aid, and, as you look, inward actions will not turn the scale by a single grain in comparison with the aid of God, and you will cease from regarding the interior, and will see that all belongs to God; and when you see that all is God’s, you will see that you yourself have nothing.

Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Muqrí [^[39]] says: Al-taṣawwuf istiqámat al-aḥwál ma`a ´l-ḥaqq, “Ṣúfiism is the maintenance of right states with God,” i.e. “states” do not seduce the Ṣúfí from his (right) state, nor cast him into wrong, since he whose heart is devoted to the Author of states (muḥawwil-i aḥwál) is not cast down from the rank of rectitude nor hindered from attaining to the Truth.

Section.

Maxims of Conduct (mu`ámalát).

Abú Ḥafṣ Ḥaddád of Níshápúr says: Al-taṣawwuf kulluhu ádáb^un li-kulli waqtⁱⁿ adab^un wa-li-kulli maqámⁱⁿ adab^un wa-li-kulli ḥálⁱⁿ adab^un fa-man lazima ádáb al-awqát balagha mablagh al-rijál fa-man ḍayya`a ´l-ádáb fa-huwa ba`íd^un min ḥaythu yaẕunnu ´l-qurb wa-mardúd^un min ḥaythu yaẕunnu ´l-qabúl, “Ṣúfiism consists entirely of behaviour; every time, place, and circumstance have their own propriety; he that observes the proprieties of each occasion attains to the rank of holy men; and he that neglects the proprieties is far removed from the thought of nearness (to God) and is excluded from imagining that he is acceptable to God.” The meaning of this is akin to the dictum of Abu ´l-Ḥasan Núrí: Laysa ´l-taṣawwuf rusúm^an wa-lá `ulúm^an wa-lákinnahu akhláq^un, “Ṣúfiism is not composed of practices and sciences, but it is morals,” i.e. if it consisted of practices, it could be acquired by effort, and if it consisted of sciences, it could be gained by instruction: hence it is morals, and it is not acquired until you demand from yourself the principles of morals, and make your actions square with them, and fulfil their just claims. The distinction between practices (rusúm) and morals (akhláq) is this, that practices are ceremonial actions proceeding from certain motives, actions devoid of reality, so that their form is at variance with their spirit, whereas morals are praiseworthy actions without ceremony or motive, actions devoid of pretension, so that their form is in harmony with their spirit.

Murta`ish says: Al-taṣawwuf ḥusn al-khulq, “Ṣúfiism is good nature.” This is of three sorts: firstly, towards God, by fulfilling His Commandments without hypocrisy; secondly, towards men, by paying respect to one’s superiors and behaving with kindness to one’s inferiors and with justice to one’s equals, and by not seeking recompense and justice from men in general; and thirdly, towards one’s self, by not following the flesh and the devil. Whoever makes himself right in these three matters is a good-natured man. This which I have mentioned agrees with a story told of `Á´isha the veracious (ṣiddiqa)—may God be well-pleased with her! She was asked concerning the nature of the Apostle. “Read from the Koran,” she replied, “for God has given information in the place where He says: ‘Use indulgence and order what is good and turn away from the ignorant’ (Kor. vii, 198).” And Murta`ish also says: Hádhá madhhab^un kulluhu jidd^un fa-lá takhliṭúhu bi-shay´ⁱⁿ min al-hazl, “This religion of Ṣúfiism is wholly earnest, therefore do not mix jest with it, and do not take the conduct of formalists (mutarassimán) as a model, and shun those who blindly imitate them.” When the people see these formalists among the aspirants to Ṣúfiism in our time, and become aware of their dancing and singing and visiting the court of sultans and quarrelling for the sake of a pittance or a mouthful of food, their belief in the whole body of Ṣúfís is corrupted, and they say: “These are the principles of Ṣúfiism, and the tenets of the ancient Ṣúfís were just the same.” They do not recognize that this is an age of weakness and an epoch of affliction. Consequently, since greed incites the sultan to acts of tyranny, and lust incites the savant to commit adultery and fornication, and ostentation incites the ascetic to hypocrisy, and vanity incites the Ṣúfí also to dance and sing—you must know that the evil lies in the men who hold the doctrines, not in the principles on which the doctrines are based; and that if some scoffers disguise their folly in the earnestness of true mystics (aḥrár), the earnestness of the latter is not thereby turned to folly. And Abú `Alí Qarmíni [^[40]] says: Al-taṣawwuf huwa ´l-akhláq al-raḍiyyat, “Ṣúfiism is good morals.” Approved actions are such that the creature in all circumstances approves of God, and is content and satisfied. Abu ´l Ḥasan Núrí says: Al-taṣawwuf huwa ´l-ḥurriyyat wa-´l-futuwwat wa-tark al-taklíf wa-´l-sakhá wa-badhl al-dunyá, “Ṣúfiism is liberty, so that a man is freed from the bonds of desire; and generosity,” i.e. he is purged from the conceit of generosity; “and abandonment of useless trouble,” i.e. he does not strive after appurtenances and rewards; “and munificence,” i.e. he leaves this world to the people of this world.

And Abu ´l-Ḥasan Fúshanja [^[41]]—may God have mercy on him!—says: Al-taṣawwuf al-yawma ´sm^un wa-lá ḥaqíqat^un wa-qad kána ḥaqíqat^an wa-la ´sm^an, “To-day Ṣúfiism is a name without a reality, but formerly it was a reality without a name,” i.e. in the time of the Companions and the Ancients—may God have mercy on them!—this name did not exist, but the reality thereof was in everyone; now the name exists, but not the reality. That is to say, formerly the practice was known and the pretence unknown, but nowadays the pretence is known and the practice unknown.

I have brought together and examined in this chapter on Ṣúfiism a number of the sayings of the Shaykhs, in order that this Path may become clear to you—God grant you felicity!—and that you may say to the sceptics: “What do you mean by denying the truth of Ṣúfiism?” If they deny only the name it is no matter, since ideas are unrelated to things which bear names; and if they deny the essential ideas, this amounts to a denial of the whole Sacred Law of the Apostle and his praised qualities. And I enjoin you in this book—God grant you the felicity with which He has blessed His Saints!—to hold these ideas in due regard and satisfy their just claims, so that you may refrain from idle pretensions and have an excellent belief in the Ṣúfís themselves. It is God that gives success.

[31]. Kor. xxv, 64.

[32]. See Chapter [IX].

[33]. The name zaddíq (an Aramaic word meaning “righteous”) was given to the ascetics and spiritual adepts among the Manichæans. Its Arabic equivalent, siddíq, which means “veracious”, is a term that is frequently applied to Ṣúfís.

[34]. Yataṣára`ún. B. has yata`ádawn, and in marg. yatasára`ún. The true reading is yata`áwawn, “barking (or ‘growling’) at one another.” Cf. Lisán, xix, 343, 3.

[35]. Yatagháwarún. This is the reading of J., I. has yata`áwarún, L. yata`áwadún, B. yataghámazún, and in marg. yatafáwazún.

[36]. Examples of this signification of the form tafa``ul are given in Wright’s Arabic Grammar, vol. i, p. 37, Rem. b.

[37]. Viz., purity (ṣafá) and Ṣúfiism (taṣawwuf).

[38]. So J. The Lahore edition has Ibn al-Jalálí, I. Ibn al-Jullábí. See Chapter X, No. [34].

[39]. Died in 366 A.H. See Nafaḥát, No. 332.

[40]. IJ. Qazwíní. B. Abú `Alí Kirmánsháhí Qurayshí. The Shaykh in question is probably Muẕaffar Kirmánsháhí Qarmíní (Nafaḥát, No. 270).

[41]. Generally written “Fúshanjí”. See Nafaḥát, No. 279.

CHAPTER IV.
On the Wearing of Patched Frocks (Muraqqa`át).

Know that the wearing of a muraqqa`a (patched frock) is the badge of aspirants to Ṣúfiism. The wearing of these garments is a Sunna (custom of the Prophet), for the Apostle said: `Alaykum bi-labs al-ṣúf tajidúna ḥaláwat al-ímán fí qulúbikum. And, further, one of the Companions says: Kána ´l-nabí salla ´lláh `alayhi wa-sallama yalbasu ´l-ṣúf wa-yarkabu ´l-ḥimár. And, moreover, the Apostle said to `Á´isha: Lá tuḍayyi`i ´l-thawb ḥattá turaqqi`íhi. He said: “See that ye wear woollen raiment, that ye may feel the sweetness of faith.” And it is related that the Apostle wore a garment of wool and rode on an ass, and that he said to `Á´isha: “O `Á´isha, do not let the garment be destroyed, but patch it.” `Umar, the son of Khaṭṭáb, wore, it is said, a muraqqa`a with thirty patches inserted on it. Of `Umar, too, we are told that he said: “The best garment is that which gives the least trouble” (ki ma´únat-i án sabuktar buvad). It is related of the Commander of the Faithful, `Alí, that he had a shirt of which the sleeves were level with his fingers, and if at any time he wore a longer shirt he used to tear off the ends of its sleeves. The Apostle also was commanded by God to shorten his garments, for God said: “And purify thy garments” (Kor. lxxiv, 4), i.e. shorten them. And Ḥasan of Baṣra says: “I saw seventy comrades who fought at Badr: all of them had woollen garments; and the greatest Ṣiddíq (Abú Bakr) wore a garment of wool in his detachment from the world” (tajríd). Ḥasan of Baṣra says further: “I saw Salmán (al-Fárisí) wearing a woollen frock (gilím) with patches.” The Commander of the Faithful, `Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb, and the Commander of the Faithful, `Alí, and Harim b. Ḥayyán relate that they saw Uways Qaraní with a woollen garment on which patches were inserted. Ḥasan of Baṣra and Málik Dínár and Sufyán Thawrí were owners of woollen patched frocks. And it is related of the Imám Abú Ḥanífa of Kúfa—this is written in the History of the Shaykhs composed by Muḥammad b. `Alí Ḥakím Tirmidhí—that he at first clothed himself in wool and was on the point of retiring from the world, when he saw in a dream the Apostle, who said: “It behoves thee to live amidst the people, because thou art the means whereby my Sunna will be revived.” Then Abú Ḥanífa refrained from solitude, but he never put on a garment of any value. And Dáwud Ṭá´í, who was one of the veritable adepts among the aspirants to Ṣúfiism (yakí az muḥaqqiqán-i mutaṣawwifa), enjoined the wearing of wool. And Ibráhím the son of Adham came to visit the most venerable Imám Abú Ḥanífa, clad in a garment of wool. The latter’s disciples looked at him with contempt and disparagement, until Abú Ḥanífa said: “Our lord Ibráhím b. Adham has come.” The disciples said: “The Imám utters no jests: how has he gained this lordship?” Abú Ḥanífa replied: “By continual devotion. He has been occupied in serving God while we have been engaged in serving our own bodies. Thus he has become our lord.”

It may well be the case that at the present day some persons wear patched frocks and religious habits (muraqqa`át ú khiraq) for the sake of public honour and reputation, and that their hearts belie their external garb; for there may be but one champion in a host, and in every sect the genuine adepts are few. People, however, reckon as Ṣúfís all who resemble the Ṣúfís even in a single rule. The Apostle said: Man tashabbaha bi-qawmⁱⁿ fa-huwa minhum, “He that makes himself akin to a party either in conduct or in belief, is one of that party.” But while some regard only the outward forms of their practice, others direct attention to their spirit of inward purity.

Those who wish to associate with aspirants to Ṣúfiism fall into four classes: (1) He whose purity, enlightenment, subtlety, even balance of temperament, and soundness of character give him insight into the hearts of the Ṣúfís, so that he perceives the nearness of their spiritual adepts to God and the loftiness of their eminent men. He joins himself to them in hope of attaining to the same degree, and the beginning of his novitiate is marked by revelation of “states” (kashf-i aḥwál), and purgation from desire, and renunciation of self. (2) He whose health of body and continence of heart and quiet peace of mind enable him to see their outward practice, so that he fixes his gaze on their observance of the holy law and of the different sorts of discipline, and on the excellence of their conduct: consequently he seeks to associate with them and give himself up to the practice of piety, and the beginning of his novitiate is marked by self-mortification (mujáhadat) and good conduct. (3) He whose humanity and custom of social intercourse and goodness of disposition cause him to consider their actions and to see the virtue of their outward life: how they treat their superiors with respect and their inferiors with generosity and their equals as comrades, and how untroubled they are by thoughts of worldly gain and contented with what they have; he seeks their society, and renders easy to himself the hard path of worldly ambition, and makes himself at leisure one of the good. (4) He whose stupidity and feebleness of soul—his love of power without merit and of distinction without knowledge—lead him to suppose that the outward actions of the Ṣúfís are everything. When he enters their company they treat him kindly and indulgently, although they are convinced that he is entirely ignorant of God and that he has never striven to advance upon the mystic path. Therefore he is honoured by the people as if he were a real adept and is venerated as if he were one of God’s saints, but his object is only to assume their dress and hide his deformity under their piety. He is like an ass laden with books (Kor. lxxii, 5). In this age the majority are impostors such as have been described. Accordingly, it behoves you not to seem to be anything except what you really are. It is inward glow (ḥurqat) that makes the Ṣúfí, not the religious habit (khirqat). To the true mystic there is no difference between the mantle (`abá) worn by dervishes, and the coat (qabá) worn by ordinary people. An eminent Shaykh was asked why he did not wear a patched frock (muraqqa`a). He replied: “It is hypocrisy to wear the garb of the Ṣúfís and not to bear the burdens which Ṣúfiism entails.” If, by wearing this garb, you wish to make known to God that you are one of the elect, God knows that already; and if you wish to show to the people that you belong to God, should your claim be true, you are guilty of ostentation; and should it be false, of hypocrisy. The Ṣúfís are too great to need a special garment for this purpose. Purity (ṣafá) is a gift from God, whereas wool (ṣúf) is the clothing of animals. The Ṣúfí Shaykhs enjoined their disciples to wear patched frocks, and did the same themselves, in order that they might be marked men, and that all the people might keep watch over them: thus if they committed a transgression, every tongue would rebuke them, and if they wished to sin while clad in this garment, they would be held back by shame. In short, the muraqqa`a is the garb of God’s saints. The vulgar use it merely as a means of gaining worldly reputation and fortune, but the elect prefer contumely to honour, and affliction to prosperity. Hence it is said “the muraqqa`a is a garb of happiness for the vulgar, but a mail-coat (jawshan) of affliction for the elect.” You must seek what is spiritual, and shun what is external. The Divine is veiled by the human, and that veil is annihilated only by passing through the “states” and “stages” of the mystic Way. Purity (ṣafá) is the name given to such annihilation. How can he who has gained it choose one garment rather than another, or take pains to adorn himself at all? How should he care whether people call him a Ṣúfí or by some other name?

Section.

Muraqqa`as should be made with a view to ease and lightness, and when the original cloth is torn a patch should be inserted. There are two opinions of the Shaykhs as to this matter. Some hold that it is improper to sew the patch on neatly and accurately, and that the needle should be drawn through the cloth at random,[^[42]] and that no trouble should be taken. Others again hold that the stitches should be straight and regular, and that it is part of the practice of the dervishes to keep the stitches straight and to take pains therein; for sound practice indicates sound principles.

Now I, who am `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, asked the Grand Shaykh, Abu ´l-Qásim Gurgání at Ṭús, saying: “What is the least thing necessary for a dervish in order that he may become worthy of poverty?” He replied: “A dervish must not have less than three things: first, he must know how to sew on a patch rightly; second, he must know how to listen rightly; third, he must know how to set his foot on the ground rightly.” A number of dervishes were present with me when he said this. As soon as we came to the door each one began to apply this saying to his own case, and some ignorant fellows fastened on it with avidity. “This,” they cried, “is poverty indeed,” and most of them were hastening to sew patches on nicely and to set their feet on the ground correctly; and everyone of them imagined that he knew how to listen to sayings on Ṣúfiism. Wherefore, since my heart was devoted to that Sayyid, and I was unwilling that his words should fall to the ground, I said: “Come, let each of us say something upon this subject.” So everyone stated his views, and when my turn came I said: “A right patch is one that is stitched for poverty, not for show; if it is stitched for poverty, it is right, even though it be stitched wrong. And a right word is one that is heard esoterically (ba-ḥál), not wilfully (ba-munyat), and is applied earnestly, not frivolously, and is apprehended by life, not by reason. And a right foot is one that is put on the ground with true rapture, not playfully and formally.” Some of my remarks were reported to the Sayyid (Abu ´l-Qásim Gurgání), who said: “`Alí has spoken well—God reward him!” The aim of this sect in wearing patched frocks is to alleviate the burden of this world and to be sincere in poverty towards God. It is related in the genuine Traditions that Jesus, son of Mary—God bless him!—was wearing a muraqqa`a when he was taken up to heaven. A certain Shaykh said: “I dreamed that I saw him clad in a woollen patched frock, and light was shining from every patch. I said: ‘O Messiah, what are these lights on thy garment?’ He answered: ‘The lights of necessary grace; for I sewed on each of those patches through necessity, and God Almighty hath turned into a light every tribulation which He inflicted on my heart.’”

I saw in Transoxania an old man who belonged to the sect of Malámatís. He neither ate nor wore anything in which human beings had a hand. His food consisted of things thrown away by men, such as putrid vegetables, sour gourds, rotten carrots, and the like. His clothes were made of rags which he had picked up from the road and washed: of these he had made a muraqqa`a. And I have heard that among the mystics of recent times there was an old man of flourishing condition (qawí ḥál) and of excellent character, living at Marv al-Rúd, who had sewn so many patches, without taking pains, on his prayer-rug and cap, that scorpions brought forth their young in them. And my Shaykh—may God be well pleased with him!—wore for fifty-one years a single cloak (jubba), on which he used to sew pieces of cloth without taking any pains. I have found the following tale among the anecdotes of the (holy) men of `Iráq. There were two dervishes, one a votary of the contemplative life (ṣáḥib musháhadat), and the other a votary of the purgative life (ṣáḥib mujáhadat). The former never clothed himself except in the pieces of cloth which were torn off by dervishes in a state of ecstasy (samá`) from their own garments, while the other used for the same purpose only the pieces torn off by dervishes who were asking forgiveness: thus the outward garb of each was in harmony with his inward disposition. This is observance of the “state” (pás dáshtan-i ḥál). Shaykh Muḥammad b. Khafíf wore a coarse woollen frock (palás) for twenty years, and every year he used to undergo four fasts of forty days’ duration (chilla), and every forty days he would compose a work on the mysteries of the Sciences of the Divine Verities. In his time there was an old man,[^[43]] one of the adepts learned in the Way (Ṭaríqat) and the Truth (Ḥaqíqat), who resided at Parg [^[44]] in Fárs and was called Muḥammad b. Zakariyyá.[^[45]] He had never worn a muraqqa`a. Now Shaykh Muḥammad b. Khafíf was asked: “What is involved in wearing a muraqqa`a, and who is permitted to do so?” He replied: “It involves those obligations which are fulfilled by Muḥammad b. Zakariyyá in his white shirt, and the wearing of such a frock is permitted to him.”

Section.

It is not the way of the Ṣúfís to abandon their customs. If they seldom wear garments of wool at the present day, there are two reasons for this fact: (1) that wools have deteriorated (pashmhá shúrída shuda ast) and the animals (which produce wool) have been carried off from one place to another by raiders; and (2) that a sect of heretics has adopted the woollen garment as a badge (shi`ár). And it is praiseworthy to depart from the badge of heretics, even although one departs at the same time from a traditional practice (sunna).

To take pains (takalluf) in sewing muraqqa`as is considered allowable by the Ṣúfís because they have gained a high reputation among the people; and since many imitate them and wear muraqqa`as, and are guilty of improper acts, and since the Ṣúfís dislike the society of others than themselves—for these reasons they have invented a garb which none but themselves can sew, and have made it a mark of mutual acquaintance and a badge. So much so that when a certain dervish came to one of the Shaykhs wearing a garment on which the patch had been sewn with too wide stitches (khaṭṭ ba-pahná áwarda búd) the Shaykh banished him from his presence. The argument is that purity (ṣafá) is founded on delicacy of nature and fineness of temperament, and undoubtedly crookedness in one’s nature is not good. It is natural to disapprove of incorrect actions, just as it is natural to derive no pleasure from incorrect poetry.

Others, again, do not trouble themselves about clothes at all. They wear either a religious habit (`abá) or an ordinary coat (qabá), whichever God may have given them; and if He keeps them naked, they remain in that state. I, who am `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, approve of this doctrine, and I have practised it in my journeys. It is related that Aḥmad b. Khaḍrúya wore a coat when he visited Abú Yazíd, and that Sháh b. Shujá` wore a coat when he visited Abú Ḥafṣ. This was not their usual dress, for sometimes they wore a muraqqa`a and sometimes a woollen garment or a white shirt, as it might happen. The human soul is habituated to things, and fond of custom, and when anything has become habitual to the soul it soon grows natural, and when it has grown natural it becomes a veil. Hence the Apostle said: Khayr al-ṣiyám ṣawm akhí Dáwud `alayhi ´l-salám, “The best of fasts is that of my brother David.” They said: “O Apostle of God, what kind of fast is that?” He replied: “David used to keep his fast one day and break it on the next day,” in order that his soul should not become accustomed either to keeping the fast or to breaking it, for fear that he might be veiled thereby. And, as regards this matter, Abú Ḥámid Dústán [^[46]] of Merv was the most sound. His disciples used to put a garment on him, but those who wanted it used to seek him out when he was at leisure and alone, and divest him of it; and he would never say to the person who put it on him: “Why do you put it on?” nor to the person who took it off: “Why do you take it off?” Moreover, at the present day there is at Ghazna—may God protect it!—an old man with the sobriquet Mu´ayyad, who has no choice or discrimination with respect to his clothes; and he is sound in that degree.

Now, as to their garments being mostly blue (kabúd), one of the reasons is that they have made wandering (siyáḥat) and travelling the foundation of their Path; and on journeys a white garment does not retain its original appearance, and is not easily washed, and besides, everyone covets it. Another cause is this, that a blue dress is the badge of the bereaved and afflicted, and the apparel of mourners; and this world is the abode of trouble, the pavilion of affliction, the den of sorrow, the house of parting, the cradle of tribulation: the (Ṣúfí) disciples, seeing that their heart’s desire is not to be gained in this world, have clad themselves in blue and have sat down to mourn union (with God). Others behold in the practice (of devotion) only imperfection, in the heart only evil, in life only loss of time: therefore they wear blue; for loss (fawt) is worse than death (mawt). One wears blue for the death of a dear friend, another for the loss of a cherished hope.

A dervish was asked why he wore blue. He replied: “The Apostle left three things: poverty, knowledge, and the sword. The sword was taken by potentates, who misused it; knowledge was chosen by savants, who were satisfied with merely teaching it; poverty was chosen by dervishes, who made it a means of enriching themselves. I wear blue as a sign of mourning for the calamity of these three classes of men.” Once Murta`ish was walking in one of the quarters of Baghdád. Being thirsty, he went to a door and asked for a drink of water. The daughter of the householder brought him some water in a jug. Murta`ish was smitten with her beauty and would not leave the spot until the master of the house came to him. “O sir,” cried Murta`ish, “she gave me a drink of water and robbed me of my heart.” The householder replied: “She is my daughter, and I give her to you in marriage.” So Murta`ish went into the house, and the wedding was immediately solemnized. The bride’s father, who was a wealthy man, sent Murta`ish to the bath, where they took off his patched frock (muraqqa`a) and clothed him in a night-dress. At nightfall he rose to say his prayers and engage in solitary devotion. Suddenly he called out, “Bring my patched frock.” They asked, “What ails you?” He answered, “I heard a voice within, whispering: ‘On account of one disobedient look We have removed thy muraqqa`a, the garb of piety, from thy body: if thou lookest again We shall remove the raiment of intimacy from thy heart.’” Only two kinds of men are fitted to wear the muraqqa`a: (1) those who are cut off from the world, and (2) those who feel a longing for the Lord (mushtáqán-i mawlá).

The Ṣúfí Shaykhs observe the following rule. When a novice joins them, with the purpose of renouncing the world, they subject him to spiritual discipline for the space of three years. If he fulfil the requirements of this discipline, well and good; otherwise, they declare that he cannot be admitted to the Path (Ṭaríqat). The first year is devoted to service of the people, the second year to service of God, and the third year to watching over his own heart. He can serve the people only when he places himself in the rank of servants and all other people in the rank of masters, i.e. he must regard all, without any discrimination, as being better than himself, and must consider it his duty to serve all alike; not in such a way as to deem himself superior to those whom he serves, for this is manifest perdition and evident fraud, and is one of the infectious cankers of the age (az áfát-i zamána andar zamána yakí ínast). And he can serve God Almighty only when he cuts off all his selfish interests relating either to this world or to the next, and worships God absolutely for His sake alone, inasmuch as whoever worships God for any thing’s sake worships himself and not God. And he can watch over his heart only when his thoughts are collected and cares are dismissed from his heart, so that in the presence of intimacy (with God) he preserves his heart from the assaults of heedlessness. When these three qualifications are possessed by the novice, he may wear the muraqqa`a as a true mystic, not merely as an imitator of others.

Now as to the person who invests the novice with the muraqqa`a, he must be a man of rectitude (mustaqím al-ḥál) who has traversed all the hills and dales of the Path, and tasted the rapture of “states” and perceived the nature of actions, and experienced the severity of the Divine majesty and the clemency of the Divine beauty. Furthermore, he must examine the state of his disciples and judge what point they will ultimately reach: whether they will retire (ráji`án), or stand still (wáqifán), or attain (bálighán). If he knows that some day they will abandon this Path, he must forbid them to enter upon it; if they will come to a stand, he must enjoin them to practise devotion; and if they will reach the goal, he must give them spiritual nourishment. The Ṣúfí Shaykhs are physicians of men’s souls. When the physician is ignorant of the patient’s malady he kills him by his art, because he does not know how to treat him and does not recognize the symptoms of danger, and prescribes food and drink unsuitable to his disease. The Apostle said: “The shaykh in his tribe is like the prophet in his nation.” Accordingly, as the prophets showed insight in their call to the people, and kept everyone in his due degree, so the Shaykh likewise should show insight in his call, and should give to everyone his proper spiritual food, in order that the object of his call may be secured.

The adept, then, who has attained the perfection of saintship takes the right course when he invests the novice with the muraqqa`a after a period of three years during which he has educated him in the necessary discipline. In respect of the qualifications which it demands, the muraqqa`a is comparable to a winding-sheet (kafan): the wearer must resign all his hopes of the pleasures of life, and purge his heart of all sensual delights, and devote his life entirely to the service of God and completely renounce selfish desires. Then the Director (Pír) ennobles him by clothing him in that robe of honour, while he on his part fulfils the obligations which it involves, and strives with all his might to perform them, and deems it unlawful to satisfy his own wishes.

Many allegories (ishárát) have been uttered concerning the muraqqa`a. Shaykh Abú Ma`mar of Iṣfahán has written a book on the subject, and the generality of aspirants to Ṣúfiism display much extravagance (ghuluww) in this matter. My aim, however, in the present work is not to relate sayings, but to elucidate the difficulties of Ṣúfiism. The best allegory concerning the muraqqa`a is this, that its collar (qabba) is patience, its two sleeves fear and hope, its two gussets (tiríz) contraction and dilation, its belt self-abnegation, its hem (kursí)[^[47]] soundness in faith, its fringe (faráwíz) sincerity. Better still is the following: “Its collar is annihilation of intercourse (with men), its two sleeves are observance (ḥifẕ) and continence (`iṣmat), its two gussets are poverty and purity, its belt is persistence in contemplation, its hem (kursí) is tranquillity in (God’s) presence, and its fringe is settlement in the abode of union.” When you have made a muraqqa`a like this for your spiritual self it behoves you to make one for your exterior also. I have composed a separate book on this subject, entitled “The Mysteries of Patched Frocks and Means of Livelihood” (Asrár al-khiraq wa-´l-ma´únát), of which the novice should get a copy.

If the novice, having donned the muraqqa`a, should be forced to tear it under compulsion of the temporal authority, this is permissible and excusable; but should he tear it of free will and deliberately, then according to the law of the sect he is not allowed to wear a muraqqa`a in future, and if he do so, he stands on the same footing as those in our time who are content to wear muraqqa`as for outward show, with no spiritual meaning. As regards the rending of garments the true doctrine is this, that when Ṣúfís pass from one stage to another they immediately change their dress in thankfulness for having gained a higher stage; but whereas every other garment is the dress of a single stage, the muraqqa`a is a dress which comprises all the stages of the Path of poverty and purity, and therefore to discard it is equivalent to renouncing the whole Path. I have made a slight allusion to this question, although this is not the proper place for it, in order to settle the particular point at issue; but, please God, I will give a detailed explanation of the principle in the chapter on rending (kharq), and in the revelation of the mystery of “audition” (samá`). Furthermore, it has been said that one who invests a novice with the muraqqa`a should possess such sovereign mystical powers that any stranger on whom he looks kindly should become a friend, and any sinner whom he clothes in this garment should become a saint.

Once I was travelling with my Shaykh in Ádharbáyaján, and we saw two or three persons wearing muraqqa`as, who were standing beside a wheat-barn and holding up their skirts in the hope that the farmer would throw them some wheat. On seeing this the Shaykh exclaimed: “Those are they who have purchased error at the price of true guidance, but their traffic has not been profitable” (Kor. ii, 15). I asked him how they had fallen into this calamity and disgrace. He said: “Their spiritual directors were greedy to gather disciples, and they themselves are greedy to collect worldly goods.” It is related of Junayd that he saw at the Báb al-Ṭáq [^[48]] a beautiful Christian youth and said: “O Lord, pardon him for my sake, for Thou hast created him exceeding fair.” After a while the youth came to Junayd and made profession of Islam and was enrolled among the saints. Abú `Alí Siyáh was asked: “Who is permitted to invest novices with the muraqqa`a?” He replied: “That one who oversees the whole kingdom of God, so that nothing happens in the world without his knowledge.”

[42]. Literally, “in whatever place it raises its head.”

[43]. This story is related in `Aṭṭár’s Tadhkirat al-Awliyá (pt. ii, p. 125, l. 17 sqq.), where it is expressly said that the old man was not “learned in the Way”.

[44]. I. in margin has Park. The Nuzhat al-Quhúb gives the name as برک (Bark), and refers it to a village in the district of Kirmán.

[45]. B., I., and J. have Dhakariyyá (Zakariyya), L. ذكرى. The MSS. of the Tadhkirat al-Awliyá vary between Dhakírí and ذكرى.

[46]. See Nafaḥát, No. 350.

[47]. This conjectural translation of kursí was suggested to me by Colonel Ranking. The dictionaries give no explanation of the word as it is used here.

[48]. A gate in the eastern quarter of Baghdád.

CHAPTER V.
On the Different Opinions held concerning Poverty and Purity.

The Doctors of the Mystic Path are not agreed as to the respective merits of Poverty (faqr) and Purity (ṣafwat). Some hold that Poverty is more perfect than Purity. Poverty, they say, is complete annihilation in which every thought ceases to exist, and Purity is one of the “stations” (maqámát) of Poverty: when annihilation is gained, all “stations” vanish into nothing. This is ultimately the same question as that touching Poverty and Wealth, which has already been discussed. Those who set Purity above Poverty say that Poverty is an existent thing (shay ast mawjúd) and is capable of being named, whereas Purity is the being pure (ṣafá) from all existing things: ṣafá is the essence of annihilation (faná), and Poverty is the essence of subsistence (baqá): therefore Poverty is one of the names of “stations”, but Purity is one of the names of perfection. This matter has been disputed at great length in the present age, and both parties have resorted to far-fetched and amazing verbal subtleties; but it will be allowed on all sides that Poverty and Purity are not mere words and nothing else. The disputants have made up a doctrine out of words and have neglected to apprehend meanings: they have abandoned discussion of the Truth. Negation of arbitrary will they call negation of essence, and affirmation of desire they regard as affirmation of essence. The Mystic Path is far removed from such idle fictions. In short, the Saints of God attain to a place where place no longer exists, where all degrees and “stations” disappear, and where outward expressions fall off from the underlying realities, so that neither “spiritual delight” (shurb) is left, nor “taste” (dhawq), nor “sobriety” (ṣaḥw), nor “effacement” (maḥw). These controversialists, however, seek a forced name with which to cloak ideas that do not admit of being named or of being used as attributes; and everyone applies to them whatever name he thinks most estimable. Now, in dealing with the ideas themselves, the question of superiority does not arise, but when names are given to them, one will necessarily be preferred to another. Accordingly, to some people the name of Poverty seemed to be superior and of greater worth because it is connected with renunciation and humility, while others preferred Purity, and held it the more honourable because it comes nearer to the notion of discarding all that contaminates and annihilating all that has a taint of the world. They adopted these two names as symbols of an inexpressible idea, in order that they might converse with each other on that subject and make their own state fully known; and there is no difference of opinion in this sect (the Ṣúfís), although some use the term “Poverty” and others the term “Purity” to express the same idea. With the verbalists (ahl-i `ibárat), on the contrary, who are ignorant of the true meaning of these ideas, the whole question is an affair of words. To conclude, whoever has made that idea his own and fixed his heart upon it, heeds not whether they call him “Poor” (faqír) or “Pure” (Ṣúfí), since both these appellations are forced names for an idea that cannot be brought under any name.

This controversy dates from the time of Abu ´l-Ḥasan Sumnún. He, on occasions when he was in a state of revelation (kashf) akin to subsistence (baqá), used to set Poverty above Purity; and on being asked by spiritualists (arbáb-i ma`ání) why he did so, he replied: “Inasmuch as I naturally delight in annihilation and abasement, and no less in subsistence and exaltation, I prefer Purity to Poverty when I am in a state akin to annihilation, and Poverty to Purity when I am in a state akin to subsistence; for Poverty is the name of subsistence and Purity that of annihilation. In the latter state I annihilate from myself the sight (consciousness) of subsistence, and in the former state I annihilate from myself the sight of annihilation, so that my nature becomes dead both to annihilation and to subsistence.” Now this, regarded as an explanation (`ibárat), is an excellent saying, but neither annihilation nor subsistence can be annihilated: every subsistent thing that suffers annihilation is annihilated from itself, and every annihilated thing that becomes subsistent is subsistent from itself. Annihilation is a term of which it is impossible to speak hyperbolically. If a person says that annihilation is annihilated, he can only be expressing hyperbolically the non-existence of any vestige of the idea of annihilation; but so long as any vestige of existence remains, annihilation has not yet come to pass; and when it has been attained, the “annihilation” thereof is nothing but self-conceit flattered by meaningless phrases. In the vanity and rashness of youth I composed a discourse of this kind, entitled the “Book of Annihilation and Subsistence” (Kitáb-i Faná ú Baqá), but in the present work I will set forth the whole matter with caution, please God the Almighty and Glorious.

This is the distinction between Purity and Poverty in the spiritual sense. It is otherwise when Purity and Poverty are considered in their practical aspect, namely, the denuding one’s self of worldly things (tajríd) and the casting away of all one’s possessions. Here the real point is the difference between Poverty (faqr) and Lowliness (maskanat). Some Shaykhs assert that the Poor (faqír) are superior to the Lowly (miskín), because God has said, “the poor who are straitened in the way of Allah, unable to go to and fro on the earth” (Kor. ii, 274): the Lowly possess means of livelihood, which the Poor renounce: therefore Poverty is honour and Lowliness abasement, for, according to the rule of the Mystic Path, he who possesses the means of livelihood is base, as the Apostle said: “Woe befall those who worship the dínár and the dirhem, woe befall those who worship garments with a nap!” He who renounces the means of livelihood is honoured, inasmuch as he depends on God, while he who has means depends on them. Others, again, declare the Lowly to be superior, because the Apostle said: “Let me live lowly, and let me die lowly, and raise me from the dead among the lowly!” whereas, speaking of Poverty, he said, “Poverty is near to being unbelief.” On this account the Poor are dependent on a means, but the Lowly are independent. In the domain of Sacred Law, some divines hold that the Poor are those who have a sufficiency ([s.]áḥib bulgha), and the Lowly those who are free from worldly cares (mujarrad); but other divines hold the converse of this view. Hence the name “Ṣúfí” is given to the Lowly by followers of the Path (ahl-i maqámát) who adopt the former opinion: they prefer Purity (ṣafwat) to Poverty. Those Ṣúfís who accept the latter view prefer Poverty to Purity, for a similar reason.

CHAPTER VI.
On Blame (Malámat).

The path of Blame has been trodden by some of the Ṣúfí Shaykhs. Blame has a great effect in making love sincere. The followers of the Truth (ahl-i ḥaqq) are distinguished by their being the objects of vulgar blame, especially the eminent ones of this community. The Apostle, who is the exemplar and leader of the adherents of the Truth, and who marches at the head of the lovers (of God), was honoured and held in good repute by all until the evidence of the Truth was revealed to him and inspiration came upon him. Then the people loosed their tongues to blame him. Some said, “He is a soothsayer;” others, “He is a poet;” others, “He is a madman;” others, “He is a liar;” and so forth. And God says, describing the true believers: “They fear not the blame of anyone; that is the grace of God which He bestows on whomsoever He pleases; God is bounteous and wise” (Kor. v, 59). Such is the ordinance of God, that He causes those who discourse of Him to be blamed by the whole world, but preserves their hearts from being preoccupied by the world’s blame. This He does in His jealousy: He guards His lovers from glancing aside to “other” (ghayr), lest the eye of any stranger should behold the beauty of their state; and He guards them also from seeing themselves, lest they should regard their own beauty and fall into self-conceit and arrogance. Therefore He hath set the vulgar over them to loose the tongues of blame against them, and hath made the “blaming soul” (nafs-i lawwáma) part of their composition, in order that they may be blamed by others for whatever they do, and by themselves for doing evil or for doing good imperfectly.

Now this is a firm principle in the Way to God, for in this Path there is no taint or veil more difficult to remove than self-conceit. God in His kindness hath barred the way of error against His friends. Their actions, however good, are not approved by the vulgar, who do not see them as they really are; and they themselves do not regard their works of mortification, however numerous, as proceeding from their own strength and power: consequently they are not pleased with themselves and are protected from self-conceit. Whoever is approved by God is disapproved by the vulgar, and whoever is elected by himself is not among the elect of God. Thus Iblís was approved by mankind and accepted by the angels, and he was pleased with himself; but since God was not pleased with him, their approval only brought a curse upon him. Adam, on the other hand, was disapproved by the angels, who said: “Wilt Thou place there [on the earth] one who will do evil therein?” (Kor. ii, 28), and was not pleased with himself, for he said: “O Lord, we have done ourselves a wrong” (Kor. vii, 22); but since God was pleased with him, the disapproval of the angels and his own displeasure bore the fruit of mercy. Let all men, therefore, know that those accepted by us are rejected by the people, and that those accepted by the people are rejected by us. Hence the blame of mankind is the food of the friends of God, because it is a token of Divine approval; it is the delight of the saints of God, because it is a sign of nearness to Him: they rejoice in it even as other men rejoice in popularity. There is a Tradition, which the Apostle received from Gabriel, that God said: “My friends (saints) are under My cloak: save Me, none knoweth them except My friends.”

Section.

Now blame (malámat) is of three kinds: it may result (1) from following the right way (malámat-i rást raftan), or (2) from an intentional act (malámat-i qaṣd kardan), or (3) from abandonment of the law (malámat-i tark kardan). In the first case, a man is blamed who minds his own business and performs his religious duties and does not omit any practice of devotion: he is entirely indifferent to the behaviour of the people towards him. In the second case a man is greatly honoured by the people and pointed out among them: his heart inclines to the honour in which he is held, and becomes attached to those by whom it is bestowed: he wishes to make himself independent of them and devote himself wholly to God; therefore he purposely incurs their blame by committing some act which is offensive to them but which is no violation of the law: in consequence of his behaviour they wash their hands of him. In the third case, a man is driven by his natural infidelity and erroneous beliefs to abandon the sacred law and abjure its observances, and say to himself, “I am treading the path of blame:” in this case his behaviour depends on himself alone.

He who follows the right way and refuses to act hypocritically, and refrains from ostentation, pays no heed to the blame of the vulgar, but invariably takes his own course: it is all one to him what name they call him by. I find among the anecdotes (of holy men) that one day Shaykh Abú Ṭáhir Ḥaramí was seen in the bazaar, riding a donkey and attended by one of his disciples. Some person cried out, “Here comes that old freethinker!” The indignant disciple rushed at the speaker, trying to strike him, and the whole bazaar was filled with tumult. The Shaykh said to his disciple: “If you will be quiet, I will show you something that will save you from trouble of this sort.” When they returned home, he bade the disciple bring a certain box, which contained letters, and told him to look at them. “Observe,” he said, “how the writers address me. One calls me ‘the Shaykh of Islam’, another ‘the pure Shaykh’, another ‘the ascetic Shaykh’, another ‘the Shaykh of the two Sanctuaries’, and so on. They are all titles, there is no mention of my name. I am none of these things, but every person gives me the title which accords with his belief concerning me. If that poor fellow did the same just now, why should you quarrel with him?”

He who incurs blame purposely and resigns honour and withdraws from authority is like the Caliph `Uthmán who, although he possessed four hundred slaves, one day came forth from his plantation of date-palms carrying a bundle of firewood on his head. On being asked why he did this, he answered: “I wish to make trial of myself.” He would not let the dignity which he enjoyed hinder him from any work. A similar tale related of the Imám Abú Ḥanífa will be found in this treatise. And a story is told about Abú Yazíd, that, when he was entering Rayy on his way from the Ḥijáz, the people of that city ran to meet him in order that they might show him honour. Their attentions distracted him and turned his thoughts away from God. When he came to the bazaar, he took a loaf from his sleeve and began to eat. They all departed, for it was the month of Ramaḍán. He said to a disciple who was travelling with him: “You see! as soon as I perform a single article of the law,[^[49]] they all reject me.” In those days it was necessary, for incurring blame, to do something disapproved or extraordinary; but in our time, if anyone desires blame, he need only lengthen a little his voluntary prayers or fulfil the religious practices which are prescribed: at once everybody will call him a hypocrite and impostor.

He who abandons the law and commits an irreligious act, and says that he is following the rule of “blame”, is guilty of manifest wrong and wickedness and self-indulgence. There are many in the present age who seek popularity by this means, forgetting that one must already have gained popularity before deliberately acting in such a way as to make the people reject him; otherwise, his making himself unpopular is a mere pretext for winning popularity. On a certain occasion I was in the company of one of these vain pretenders. He committed a wicked act and excused himself by saying that he did it for the sake of blame. One of the party said, “That is nonsense.” He heaved a sigh. I said to him: “If you claim to be a Malámatí and are firm in your belief, this gentleman’s disapproval of what you have done ought to encourage you to persevere; and since he is seconding you in your chosen course, why are you so unfriendly and angry with him? Your behaviour is more like pretence than pursuit of blame. Whoever claims to be guided by the Truth must give some proof of his assertion, and the proof consists in observing the Sunna (Ordinances of the Prophet). You make this claim, and yet I see that you have failed to perform an obligatory religious duty. Your conduct puts you outside the pale of Islam.”

Section.

The doctrine of Blame was spread abroad in this sect by the Shaykh of his age, Ḥamdún Qaṣṣár. He has many fine sayings on the subject. It is recorded that he said: Al-malámat tark al-salámat, “Blame is the abandonment of welfare.” If anyone purposely abandons his own welfare and girds himself to endure misfortune, and renounces his pleasures and familiar ties, in hope that the glory of God will be revealed to him, the more he is separated from mankind the more he is united to God. Accordingly, the votaries of Blame turn their backs on that thing, namely welfare (salámat), to which the people of this world turn their faces, for the aspirations of the former are Unitarian (waḥdání). Aḥmad b. Fátik relates that Ḥusayn b. Manṣúr, in reply to the question “Who is the Ṣúfí?” said: “He who is single in essence” (waḥdání al-dhát). Ḥamdún also said concerning Blame: “It is a hard way for the vulgar to follow, but I will tell one part thereof: the Malámatí is characterized by the hope of the Murjites and the fear of the Qadarites.” This saying has a hidden meaning which demands explanation. It is the nature of man to be deterred by popularity more than any other thing from seeking access to God. Consequently he who fears this danger is always striving to avoid it, and there are two perils which confront him: firstly, the fear that he may be veiled from God by the favour of his fellow-creatures; and secondly, the fear of committing some act for which the people will blame him and thereby fall into sin. Accordingly, the Malámatí must, in the first instance, take care to have no quarrel with the people for what they say of him, either in this world or the next, and for the sake of his own salvation he must commit some act which, legally, is neither a great sin (kabíra) nor a trivial offence (ṣaghíra), in order that the people may reject him. Hence his fear in matters of conduct is like the fear of the Qadarites, and his hope in dealing with those who blame him is like the hope of the Murjites. In true love there is nothing sweeter than blame, because blame of the Beloved makes no impression on the lover’s heart: he heeds not what strangers say, for his heart is ever faithful to the object of his love.

“’Tis sweet to be reviled for passion’s sake.”

This sect (the Ṣúfís) are distinguished above all creatures in the universe by choosing to be blamed in the body on account of the welfare of their souls; and this high degree is not attained by the Cherubim or any spiritual beings, nor has it been reached by the ascetics, devotees, and seekers of God belonging to the nations of antiquity, but it is reserved for those of this nation who journey on the path of entire severance from the things of the world.

In my opinion, to seek Blame is mere ostentation, and ostentation is mere hypocrisy. The ostentatious man purposely acts in such a way as to win popularity, while the Malámatí purposely acts in such a way that the people reject him. Both have their thoughts fixed on mankind and do not pass beyond that sphere. The dervish, on the contrary, never even thinks of mankind, and when his heart has been broken away from them he is as indifferent to their reprobation as to their favour: he moves unfettered and free. I once said to a Malámatí of Transoxania, with whom I had associated long enough to feel at my ease: “O brother, what is your object in these perverse actions?” He replied: “To make the people non-existent in regard to myself.” “The people,” I said, “are many, and during a lifetime you will not be able to make them non-existent in regard to yourself; rather make yourself non-existent in regard to the people, so that you may be saved from all this trouble. Some who are occupied with the people imagine that the people are occupied with them. If you wish no one to see you, do not see yourself. Since all your evils arise from seeing yourself, what business have you with others? If a sick man whose remedy lies in abstinence seeks to indulge his appetite, he is a fool.” Others, again, practise the method of Blame from an ascetic motive: they wish to be despised by the people in order that they may mortify themselves, and it is their greatest delight to find themselves wretched and abased. Ibráhím b. Adham was asked, “Have you ever attained your desire?” He answered: “Yes, twice; on one occasion I was in a ship where nobody knew me. I was clad in common clothes and my hair was long, and my guise was such that all the people in the ship mocked and laughed at me. Among them was a buffoon, who was always coming and pulling my hair and tearing it out, and treating me with contumely after the manner of his kind. At that time I felt entirely satisfied, and I rejoiced in my garb. My joy reached its highest pitch one day when the buffoon rose from his place and super me minxit. On the second occasion I arrived at a village in heavy rain, which had soaked the patched frock on my body, and I was overcome by the wintry cold. I went to a mosque, but was refused admittance. The same thing happened at three other mosques where I sought shelter. In despair, as the cold strengthened its grip on my heart, I entered a bathhouse and drew my skirt close up to the stove. The smoke enveloped me and blackened my clothes and my face. Then also I felt entirely satisfied.”

Once I, `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, found myself in a difficulty. After many devotional exercises undertaken in the hope of clearing it away, I repaired—as I had done with success on a former occasion—to the tomb of Abú Yazíd, and stayed beside it for a space of three months, performing every day three ablutions and thirty purifications in the hope that my difficulty might be removed. It was not, however; so I departed and journeyed towards Khurásán. One night I arrived at a village in that country where there was a convent (khánaqáh) inhabited by a number of aspirants to Ṣúfiism. I was wearing a dark-blue frock (muraqqa`-i khishan), such as is prescribed by the Sunna;[^[50]] but I had with me nothing of the Ṣúfí’s regular equipment (álat-i ahl-i rasm) except a staff and a leathern water-bottle (rakwa). I appeared very contemptible in the eyes of these Ṣúfís, who did not know me. They regarded only my external habit and said to one another, “This fellow is not one of us.” And so in truth it was: I was not one of them, but I had to pass the night in that place. They lodged me on a roof, while they themselves went up to a roof above mine, and set before me dry bread which had turned green, while I was drawing into my nostrils the savour of the viands with which they regaled themselves. All the time they were addressing derisive remarks to me from the roof. When they finished the food, they began to pelt me with the skins of the melons which they had eaten, by way of showing how pleased they were with themselves and how lightly they thought of me. I said in my heart: “O Lord God, were it not that they are wearing the dress of Thy friends, I would not have borne this from them.” And the more they scoffed at me the more glad became my heart, so that the endurance of this burden was the means of delivering me from that difficulty which I have mentioned; and forthwith I perceived why the Shaykhs have always given fools leave to associate with them and for what reason they submit to their annoyance.

[49]. Abú Yazíd, being at that time on a journey, was not legally bound to observe the fast.

[50]. I. adds in margin “for travellers”.

CHAPTER VII.
Concerning their Imáms who belonged to the Companions.

1. The Caliph Abú Bakr, the Veracious (al-Ṣiddíq).

He is placed by the Ṣúfí Shaykhs at the head of those who have adopted the contemplative life (musháhadat), on account of the fewness of the stories and traditions which he related; while `Umar is placed at the head of those who have adopted the purgative life (mujáhadat), because of his rigour and assiduity in devotion. It is written among the genuine Traditions, and is well known to scholars, that when Abú Bakr prayed at night he used to recite the Koran in a low voice, whereas `Umar used to recite in a loud voice. The Apostle asked Abú Bakr why he did this. Abú Bakr replied: “He with whom I converse will hear.” `Umar, in his turn, replied: “I wake the drowsy and drive away the Devil.” The one gave a token of contemplation, the other of purgation. Now purgation, compared with contemplation, is like a drop of water in a sea, and for this reason the Apostle said that `Umar, the glory of Islam, was only (equivalent to) a single one of the good deeds of Abú Bakr (hal anta illá ḥasanat^un min ḥasanáti Abí Bakr). It is recorded that Abú Bakr said: “Our abode is transitory, our life therein is but a loan, our breaths are numbered, and our indolence is manifest.” By this he signified that the world is too worthless to engage our thoughts; for whenever you occupy yourself with what is perishable, you are made blind to that which is eternal: the friends of God turn their backs on the world and the flesh which veil them from Him, and they decline to act as if they were owners of a thing that is really the property of another. And he said: “O God, give me plenty of the world and make me desirous of renouncing it!” This saying has a hidden sense, viz.: “First bestow on me worldly goods that I may give thanks for them, and then help me to abstain from them for Thy sake, so that I may have the treble merit of thanksgiving and liberality and abstinence, and that my poverty may be voluntary, not compulsory.” These words refute the Director of mystical practice, who said: “He whose poverty is compulsory is more perfect than he whose poverty is voluntary; for if it be compulsory, he is the creature (ṣan`at) of poverty, and if it be voluntary, poverty is his creature; and it is better that his actions should be free from any attempt to gain poverty for himself than that he should seek to acquire it by his own effort.” I say in answer to this: The creature of poverty is most evidently that person who, while enjoying independence, is possessed by the desire for poverty, and labours to recover it from the clutches of the world; not that person who, in the state of poverty, is possessed by the desire for independence and has to go to the houses of evildoers and the courts of governors for the sake of earning money. The creature of poverty is he who falls from independence to poverty, not he who, being poor, seeks to become powerful. Abú Bakr is the foremost of all mankind after the prophets, and it is not permissible that anyone should take precedence of him, for he set voluntary poverty above compulsory poverty. This doctrine is held by all the Ṣúfí Shaykhs except the spiritual Director whom we have mentioned.

Zuhrí relates that, when Abú Bakr received the oaths of allegiance as Caliph, he mounted the pulpit and pronounced an oration, in the course of which he said: “By God, I never coveted the command nor desired it even for a day or a night, nor ever asked God for it openly or in secret, nor do I take any pleasure in having it.” Now, when God causes anyone to attain perfect sincerity and exalts him to the rank of fixity (tamkín) he waits for Divine inspiration, that it may guide him; and according as he is bidden, he will be either a beggar or a prince, without exercising his own choice and will. Thus Abú Bakr, the Veracious, resigned himself to the will of God from first to last. Hence the whole sect of Ṣúfís have made him their pattern in stripping themselves of worldly things, in fixity (tamkín), in eager desire for poverty, and in longing to renounce authority. He is the Imám of the Moslems in general, and of the Ṣúfís in particular.

INTRODUCTION.

CHAPTER I.On the Affirmation of Knowledge.

CHAPTER II.On Poverty.

CHAPTER III.On Ṣúfiism.

CHAPTER IV.On the Wearing of Patched Frocks (Muraqqa`át).

CHAPTER V.On the Different Opinions held concerning Poverty and Purity.

CHAPTER VI.On Blame (Malámat).

CHAPTER VII.Concerning their Imáms who belonged to the Companions.

CHAPTER I.
On the Affirmation of Knowledge.

CHAPTER II.
On Poverty.

CHAPTER III.
On Ṣúfiism.

CHAPTER IV.
On the Wearing of Patched Frocks (Muraqqa`át).

CHAPTER V.
On the Different Opinions held concerning Poverty and Purity.

CHAPTER VI.
On Blame (Malámat).

CHAPTER VII.
Concerning their Imáms who belonged to the Companions.