They did so, whilst I passed the whole night in meditation, with my face turned toward Mecca. As the morning drew near, a little light came into my mind, but I could not distinguish form or colour. After the morning prayers, I was taken to the Sheikh who bade me inform him of my mental state. I replied that I had seen a light with my inward eye. On hearing this, the Sheikh became animated and said: 'Thy heart is dark, but the time is come when I will show myself clearly to thee.' He then ordered me to sit down in front of him, and to impress his features on my mind. Then having blindfolded me, he ordered me to concentrate all my thoughts upon him. I did so, and in an instant by the spiritual help of the Sheikh my heart opened. He asked me what I saw. I said that I saw another Tawakkul Beg and another Moollá Sháh. The bandage was then removed, and I saw the Sheikh in front of me. Again they covered my face, and again I saw him with my inward eye. Astonished, I cried; 'O master! whether I look with my bodily eye, or with my spiritual
sight, it is always you I see.' I then saw a dazzling figure approach me. The Sheikh told me to say to the apparition, 'What is your name?' In my spirit I put the question, and the figure answered to my heart: 'I am 'Abd-ul-Qádir Jilání, I have already aided thee, thy heart is opened.' Much affected, I vowed that in honour of the saint, I would repeat the whole Qurán every Friday night.
Moollá Sháh then said: 'The spiritual world has been shown to thee in all its beauty.' I then rendered perfect obedience to the Sheikh. The following day I saw the Prophet, the chief Companions, and legions of saints and angels. After three months, I entered the cheerless region in which the figures appeared no more. During the whole of this time, the Sheikh continued to explain to me the mystery of the doctrine of the Unity and of the knowledge of God; but as yet he did not show me the absolute reality. It was not until a year had passed that I arrived at the true conception of unity. Then in words such as these I told the Sheikh of my inspiration. 'I look upon the body as only dust and water, I regard neither my heart nor my soul, alas! that in separation from Thee (God) so much of my life has passed. Thou wert I and I knew it not.' The Sheikh was delighted, and said that the truth of the union with God was now clearly revealed to me. Then addressing those who were present, he said: 'Tawakkul Beg learnt from me the doctrine of the Unity, his inward eye has been opened, the spheres of colours and of images have been shown to him. At length, he entered the colourless region. He has now attained to the Unity, doubt and scepticism henceforth have no power over him. No one sees the Unity with the outward eye, till the inward eye gains strength and power.'"
I cannot pass from this branch of the subject without making a few remarks on Omar Khayyám, the great Astronomer-Poet of Persia. He is sometimes confounded with the Súfís, for there is much in his poetry which is similar
in tone to that of the Súfí writers. But his true position was that of a sceptic. He wrote little, but what he has written will live. As an astronomer he was a man of note. He died in the year 517 A.H. There are two things which may have caused his scepticism. To a man of his intelligence the hard and fast system of Islám was an intolerable burden. Then, his scientific spirit had little sympathy with mysticism, the earnest enthusiasts of which were too often followed by hollow impostors. It is true, that there was much in the spirit of some of the better Súfís that seemed to show a yearning for something higher than mere earthly good; above all, there was the recognition of a Higher Power. But with all this came spiritual pride, the world and its duties became a thing of evil, and the religious and the secular life were completely divorced, to the ruin of both. The Pantheism which soon pervaded the system left no room for man's will to act, for his conscience to guide. So the moral law become a dead letter. Irreligious men, to free themselves from the bondage and restraints of law, assumed the religious life. "Thus a movement, animated at first by a high and lofty purpose, has degenerated into a fruitful source of ill. The stream which ought to have expanded into a fertilising river has become a vast swamp, exhaling vapours charged with disease and death."
Omar Khayyám saw through the unreality of all this. In vain does he try, by an assumed air of gaiety, to hide from others the sadness which fills his heart, as all that is bright is seen passing away into oblivion.
One moment in annihilation's waste,
One moment, of the well of life to taste—
The stars are setting and the Caravan
Starts for the dawn of nothing—oh, make haste!