“The tongue of the state (lisán al-ḥál) is more eloquent than my tongue,
And my silence is the interpreter of my question.”
I have read in the Anecdotes that one day when Abú Bakr Shiblí was walking in the Karkh quarter of Baghdád he heard an impostor saying: “Silence is better than speech.” Shiblí replied: “Thy silence is better than thy speech, but my speech is better than my silence, because thy speech is vanity and thy silence is an idle jest, whereas my silence is modesty and my speech is knowledge.” I, `Alí b. `Uthmán al-Jullábí, declare that there are two kinds of speech and two kinds of silence: speech is either real or unreal, and silence is either fruition or forgetfulness. If one speaks truth, his speech is better than his silence, but if one speaks falsehood, his silence is better than his speech. “He who speaks hits the mark or misses it, but he who is made to speak is preserved from transgression.” Thus Iblís said, “I am better than he” (Kor. xxxviii, 77), but Adam was made to say, “O Lord, we have done wrong unto ourselves” (Kor. vii, 22). The missionaries (dá`iyán) of this sect are permitted or compelled to speak, and shame or helplessness strikes them dumb: “he whose silence is shame, his speech is life.” Their speech is the result of vision, and speech without vision appears to them despicable. They prefer silence to speech so long as they are with themselves, but when they are beside themselves their words are written on the hearts of men. Hence that spiritual director said: “He whose silence to God is gold, his speech to another than God is gilt.” The seeker of God, who is absorbed in servantship, must be silent, in order that the adept, who proclaims Lordship, may speak, and by his utterances may captivate the hearts of his disciples. The rule in speaking is not to speak unless bidden, and then only of the thing that is bidden; and the rule in silence is not to be ignorant or satisfied with ignorance or forgetful. The disciple must not interrupt the speech of spiritual directors, or let his personal judgment intrude therein, or use far-fetched expressions in answering them. He must never tell a lie, or speak ill of the absent, or offend any Moslem with that tongue which has made the profession of faith and acknowledged the unity of God. He must not address dervishes by their bare names or speak to them until they ask a question. It behoves the dervish, when he is silent, not to be silent in falsehood, and when he speaks, to speak only the truth. This principle has many derivatives and innumerable refinements, but I will not pursue the subject, lest my book should become too long.
Chapter concerning their Rules in Asking.
God hath said: “They ask not men with importunity” (Kor. ii, 274). Any one of them who asks should not be repulsed, for God said to the Apostle: “Do not drive away the beggar” (Kor. xciii, 10). As far as possible they should beg of God only, for begging involves turning away from God to another, and when a man turns away from God there is danger that God may leave him in that predicament. I have read that a certain worldling said to Rábi`a `Adawiyya[[174]]: “O Rábi`a, ask something of me that I may procure what you wish.” “O sir,” she replied, “I am ashamed to ask anything of the Creator of the world; how, then, should I not be ashamed to ask anything of a fellow-creature?” It is related that in the time of Abú Muslim, the head of the (`Abbásid) propaganda, an innocent dervish was seized on suspicion of theft, and was imprisoned at Chahár Ṭáq.[[175]] On the same night Abú Muslim dreamed that the Apostle came to him and said: “God has sent me to tell you that one of His friends is in your prison. Arise and set him free.” Abú Muslim leapt from his bed, and ran with bare head and feet to the prison gate, and gave orders to release the dervish, and begged his pardon and bade him ask a boon. “O prince,” he replied, “one whose Master rouses Abú Muslim at midnight, and sends him to deliver a poor dervish from affliction—how should that one ask a boon of others?” Abú Muslim began to weep, and the dervish went on his way. Some, however, hold that a dervish may beg of his fellow-creatures, since God says: “They ask not men with importunity,” i.e. they may ask but not importune. The Apostle begged for the sake of providing for his companions, and he said to us: “Seek your wants from those whose faces are comely.”
The Ṣúfí Shaykhs consider begging to be permissible in three cases. Firstly, with the object of freeing one’s mind from preoccupation, for, as they have said, we should not attach so much importance to two cakes of bread that we should spend the whole day and night in expecting them; and when we are starving we want nothing else of God, because no anxiety is so engrossing as anxiety on account of food. Therefore, when the disciple of Shaqíq visited Báyazíd, and in answer to Báyazíd’s question as to the state of Shaqíq informed him that he was entirely disengaged from mankind, and was putting all his trust in God, Báyazíd said: “When you return to Shaqíq, tell him to beware of again testing God with two loaves: if he is hungry, let him beg of his fellow-creatures and have done with the cant of trust in God.” Secondly, it is permissible to beg with the object of training the lower soul. The Ṣúfís beg in order that they may endure the humiliation of begging, and may perceive what is their worth in the eyes of other men, and may not be proud. When Shiblí came to Junayd, Junayd said to him: “O Abú Bakr, your head is full of conceit, because you are the son of the Caliph’s principal chamberlain and the governor of Sámarrá. No good will come from you until you go to the market and beg of everyone whom you see, that you may know your true worth.” Shiblí obeyed. He begged in the market for three years, with ever decreasing success. One day, having gone through the whole market and got nothing, he returned to Junayd and told him. Junayd said: “Now, Abú Bakr, you see that you have no worth in the eyes of men: do not fix your heart on them. This matter (i.e. begging) is for the sake of discipline, not for the sake of profit.” It is related that Dhu ´l-Nún the Egyptian said: “I had a friend who was in accord with God. After his death I saw him in a dream, and asked him how God had dealt with him. He answered that God had forgiven him. I asked him: ‘On account of what virtue?’ He replied that God raised him to his feet and said: ‘My servant, you suffered with patience much contumely and tribulation from base and avaricious men, to whom you stretched out your hands: therefore I forgive you.’” Thirdly, they beg from mankind because of their reverence for God. They recognize that all worldly possessions belong to God, and they regard all mankind as His agents, from whom—not from God Himself—they beg anything that is for the benefit of the lower soul; and in the eyes of one who beholds his own want, the servant that makes a petition to an agent is more reverent and obedient than he that makes a petition to God. Therefore, their begging from another is a sign of presence and of turning towards God, not a sign of absence and of turning away from Him. I have read that Yaḥyá b. Mu`ádh (al-Rází) had a daughter, who one day asked her mother for something. “Ask it of God,” said the mother. “I am ashamed,” the girl replied, “to ask a material want from Him. What you give me is His too and is my allotted portion.” The rules of begging are as follows: If you beg unsuccessfully you should be more cheerful than when you succeed, and you should not regard any human creature as coming between God and yourself. You should not beg of women or market-folk (aṣḥáb-i aswáq), and you should not tell your secret to anyone unless you are sure that his money is lawful. As far as possible you should beg unselfishly, and should not use the proceeds for worldly show and for housekeeping, or convert them into property. You should live in the present, and let no thought of the morrow enter your mind, else you will incur everlasting perdition. You should not make God a springe to catch alms, and you should not display piety in order that more alms may be given to you on account of your piety. I once met an old and venerable Ṣúfí, who had lost his way in the desert and came, hunger-stricken, into the market-place at Kúfa with a sparrow perched on his hand, crying: “Give me something for the sake of this sparrow!” The people asked him why he said this. He replied: “It is impossible that I should say ‘Give me something for God’s sake!’ One must employ the intercession of an insignificant creature to obtain worldly goods.“
This is but a small part of the obligations involved in begging. I have abridged the topic for fear of being tedious.
Chapter concerning their Rules in Marriage and Celibacy and matters connected therewith.
God hath said: ”They (women) are a garment unto you and ye are a garment unto them” (Kor. ii, 183). And the Apostle said: “Marry, that ye may multiply; for I will vaunt you against all other nations on the Day of Resurrection, even in respect of the still-born.” And he said also: “The women who bring the greatest blessing are they who cost least to maintain, whose faces are comeliest, and whose dowries are cheapest.” Marriage is permitted to all men and women, and is obligatory on those who cannot abstain from what is unlawful, and is a sunna (i.e. sanctioned by the custom of the Apostle) for those who are able to support a family. Some of the Ṣúfí Shaykhs hold marriage to be desirable as a means of quelling lust, and acquisition (of sustenance) to be desirable as a means of freeing the mind from anxiety. Others hold that the object of marriage is procreation; for, if the child dies before its father, it will intercede for him (before God), and if the father dies first, the child will remain to pray for him.[[176]] The Apostle said: “Women are married for four things: wealth, nobility, beauty, and religion. Do ye take one that is religious, for, after Islam, there is nothing that profits a man so much as a believing and obedient wife who gladdens him whenever he looks on her.” And the Apostle said: “Satan is with the solitary,” because Satan decks out lust and presents it to their minds. No companionship is equal in reverence and security to marriage, when husband and wife are congenial and well-suited to each other, and no torment and anxiety is so great as an uncongenial wife. Therefore the dervish must, in the first place, consider what he is doing and picture in his mind the evils of celibacy and of marriage, in order that he may choose the state of which he can more easily overcome the evils. The evils of celibacy are two: (1) the neglect of an Apostolic custom, (2) the fostering of lust in the heart and the danger of falling into unlawful ways. The evils of marriage are also two: (1) the preoccupation of the mind with other than God, (2) the distraction of the body for the sake of sensual pleasure. The root of this matter lies in retirement and companionship. Marriage is proper for those who prefer to associate with mankind, and celibacy is an ornament to those who seek retirement from mankind. The Apostle said: “Go: the recluses (al-mufarridún) have preceded you.” And Ḥasan of Baṣra says: “The lightly burdened shall be saved and the heavily laden shall perish.” Ibráhím Khawwáṣ relates the following story: “I went to a certain village to visit a reverend man who lived there. When I entered his house I saw that it was clean, like a saint’s place of worship. In its two corners two niches (miḥráb) had been made; the old man was seated in one of them, and in the other niche an old woman was sitting, clean and bright: both had become weak through much devotion. They showed great joy at my coming, and I stayed with them for three days. When I was about to depart I asked the old man, ‘What relation is this chaste woman to you?’ He answered, ‘She is my cousin and my wife.’ I said, ‘During these three days your intercourse with one another has been very like that of strangers.’ ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘it has been so for five and sixty years.’ I asked him the cause of this. He replied: ‘When we were young we fell in love, but her father would not give her to me, for he had discovered our fondness for each other. I bore this sorrow for a long while, but on her father’s death my father, who was her uncle, gave me her hand. On the wedding-night she said to me: “You know what happiness God has bestowed upon us in bringing us together and taking all fear away from our hearts. Let us therefore to-night refrain from sensual passion and trample on our desires and worship God in thanksgiving for this happiness.” I said, “It is well.” Next night she bade me do the same. On the third night I said, “Now we have given thanks for two nights for your sake; to-night let us worship God for my sake.” Five and sixty years have passed since then, and we have never touched one another, but spend all our lives in giving thanks for our happiness.’” Accordingly, when a dervish chooses companionship, it behoves him to provide his wife with lawful food and pay her dowry out of lawful property, and not indulge in sensual pleasure so long as any obligation towards God, or any part of His commandments, is unfulfilled. And when he performs his devotions and is about to go to bed, let him say, as in secret converse with God: “O Lord God, Thou hast mingled lust with Adam’s clay in order that the world may be populated, and Thou in Thy knowledge hast willed that I should have this intercourse. Cause it to be for the sake of two things: firstly, to guard that which is unlawful by means of that which is lawful; and secondly, vouchsafe to me a child, saintly and acceptable, not one who will divert my thoughts from Thee.” It is related that a son was born to Sahl b. `Abdalláh al-Tustarí. Whenever the child asked his mother for food, she used to bid him ask God, and while he went to the niche (miḥráb) and bowed himself in prayer, she used secretly to give him what he wanted, without letting him know that his mother had given it to him. Thus he grew accustomed to turn unto God. One day he came back from school when his mother was absent, and bowed himself in prayer. God caused the thing that he sought to appear before him. When his mother came in she asked, “Where did you get this?” He answered, “From the place whence it comes always.”
The practice of an Apostolic rule of life must not lead the dervish to seek worldly wealth and unlawful gain or preoccupy his heart, for the dervish is ruined by the destruction of his heart, just as the rich man is ruined by the destruction of his house and furniture; but the rich man can repair his loss, while the dervish cannot. In our time it is impossible for anyone to have a suitable wife, whose wants are not excessive and whose demands are not unreasonable. Therefore many persons have adopted celibacy and observe the Apostolic Tradition: “The best of men in latter days will be those who are light of back,” i.e. who have neither wife nor child. It is the unanimous opinion of the Shaykhs of this sect that the best and most excellent Ṣúfís are the celibates, if their hearts are uncontaminated and if their natures are not inclined to sins and lusts. The vulgar, in gratifying their lusts, appeal to the Apostle’s saying, that the three things he loved in the world were scent, women, and prayer, and argue that since he loved women marriage must be more excellent than celibacy. I reply: “The Apostle also said that he had two trades, namely, poverty (faqr) and the spiritual combat (jihád): why, then, do ye shun these things? If he loved that (viz. marriage), this (viz. celibacy) was his trade. Your desires have a greater propensity to the former, but it is absurd, on that ground, to say that he loves what you desire. Anyone who follows his desires for fifty years and supposes that he is following the practice of the Apostle is in grave error.” A woman was the cause of the first calamity that overtook Adam in Paradise, and also of the first quarrel that happened in this world, i.e. the quarrel of Abel and Cain. A woman was the cause of the punishment inflicted on the two angels (Hárút and Márút); and down to the present day all mischiefs, worldly and religious have been caused by women. After God had preserved me for eleven years from the dangers of matrimony, it was my destiny to fall in love with the description of a woman whom I had never seen, and during a whole year my passion so absorbed me that my religion was near being ruined, until at last God in His bounty gave protection to my wretched heart and mercifully delivered me. In short, Ṣúfiism was founded on celibacy; the introduction of marriage brought about a change. There is no flame of lust that cannot be extinguished by strenuous effort, because, whatever vice proceeds from yourself, you possess the instrument that will remove it: another is not necessary for that purpose. Now the removal of lust may be effected by two things, one of which involves self-constraint (takalluf) while the other lies outside the sphere of human action and mortification. The former is hunger, the latter is an agitating fear or a true love, which is collected by the dispersion of (sensual) thoughts: a love which extends its empire over the different parts of the body and divests all the senses of their sensual quality. Aḥmad Ḥammádí of Sarakhs, who went to Transoxania and lived there, was a venerable man. On being asked whether he desired to marry, he answered: “No, because I am either absent from myself or present with myself: when I am absent, I have no consciousness of the two worlds; and when I am present, I keep my lower soul in such wise that when it gets a loaf of bread it thinks that it has got a thousand houris. It is a great thing to occupy the mind: let it be anxious about whatsoever you will.” Others, again, recommend that neither state (marriage or celibacy) should be regarded with predilection, in order that we may see what the decree of Divine providence will bring to light: if celibacy be our lot, we should strive to be chaste, and if marriage be our destiny, we should comply with the custom of the Apostle and strive to clear our hearts (of worldly anxieties). When God ordains celibacy unto a man, his celibacy should be like that of Joseph, who, although he was able to satisfy his desire for Zulaykhá, turned away from her and busied himself with subduing his passion and considering the vices of his lower soul at the moment when Zulaykhá was alone with him. And if God ordains marriage unto a man, his marriage should be like that of Abraham, who by reason of his absolute confidence in God put aside all care for his wife; and when Sarah became jealous he took Hagar and brought her to a barren valley and committed her to the care of God. Accordingly, a man is not ruined by marriage or by celibacy, but the mischief consists in asserting one’s will and in yielding to one’s desires. The married man ought to observe the following rules. He should not leave any act of devotion undone, or let any “state” be lost or any “time” be wasted. He should be kind to his wife and should provide her with lawful expenses, and he should not pay court to tyrants and governors with the object of meeting her expenses. He should behave thus, in order that, if a child is born, it may be such as it ought to be. A well-known story is told of Aḥmad b. Ḥarb of Níshápúr, that one day, when he was sitting with the chiefs and nobles of Níshápúr who had come to offer their respects to him, his son entered the room, drunk, playing a guitar, and singing, and passed by insolently without heeding them. Aḥmad, perceiving that they were put out of countenance, said: “What is the matter?” They replied: “We are ashamed that this lad should pass by you in such a state.” Aḥmad said: “He is excusable. One night my wife and I partook of some food that was brought to us from a neighbour’s house. That same night this son was begotten, and we fell asleep and let our devotions go. Next morning we inquired of our neighbour as to the source of the food that he had sent to us, and we found that it came from a wedding-feast in the house of a government official.” The following rules should be observed by the celibate. He must not see what is improper to see or think what is improper to think, and he must quench the flames of lust by hunger and guard his heart from this world and from preoccupation with phenomena, and he must not call the desire of his lower soul “knowledge” or “inspiration”, and he must not make the wiles (bu ´l-`ajabí) of Satan a pretext (for sin). If he acts thus he will be approved in Ṣúfiism.