The Sufis attribute a high antiquity to their doctrines. They do not hesitate to refer them to as far back as Abraham; they pretend that one of the founders of their sect was own son-in-law to the prophet Ali, son of Abou-Tâlib. Finally, «there came a pious woman from Jerusalem, by the name of Rabia, whose words recall the Christian Mysticism.»
The first person to take the name of Sufi was Abou-Hachim of Koufa. The first convent or Khanakah was founded in Khorasan by Abou-Said, the Persian, although the prophet had prohibited monkish life in Islam. Another convent was established at Ramia, in Syria, and Saladin founded one in Egypt. Sufism then was divided into two schools: The Persian Bestâmi (a.d. 875) inclined towards Pantheism; Djonaid, of Bagdad, preached a system reconcilable with Musulman dogmatism. One of the most celebrated doctors of this school was Halladj, burnt alive in a.d. 922. They discoursed upon Sufism under the Kalifs Al-Motazz and Al-Mohtadi, and preached it under Al-Motamid. The principal Sufi writers are: Mohammed Salami an Nichabouri (a.d. 1021), El-Kochairi (a.d. 1072), Ghazli (a.d. 1111), Sohrawdi (a.d. 1234), Ferid-ed-din Attar (a.d. 1230), Djami (a.d. 1492), and Ech-Cha'rani (a.d. 1565).
This Mysticism, so sweet and so full of sentiment, exhales itself in poesy, and is as much stamped with tenderness and resignation as it is overflowing with sensuality and drunkenness. The best and most illustrious of the Persian poets are of this sect: Djelal-ed-din er-Roumi, author of the «Mesnewi», Djami, author of «Salaman ou-Absa», Ferid-ed-din Attar, author of «Mantik-ut-tair»; S'adi, Hafiz de Chiraz, Bayazid-al-Bestami.
Just as Sufis leave the true faith for its semblance, so they also exchange the external features of all things for the internal (the corporeal for the spiritual) and give a spiritual significance to outward forms. They behold objects of a precious nature in their natural character, and for this reason, the greater part of their words have a spiritual and visionary meaning.
For instance, when, like Omar, they mention wine, they mean a knowledge of God, which, extensively considered, is the love of God. Wine, viewed extensively, is also love: love and affection are here the same thing. The wine-shop with them means the murshid i kiamil (spiritual director), for his heart is said to be the depository of the love of God; the wine-cup is the telkin (the pronunciation of the name of God in a declaration of faith as: There is no God but Allah), or it signifies the words which flow from the murshid's mouth respecting divine knowledge, and which, heard by the salik (the Dervish, or one who pursues the true path), intoxicates his soul, and divests his mind (of passions) giving him pure, spiritual delight.
The sweetheart or Beloved means the preceptor, because, when any one sees his beloved he admires her proportions, with a heart full of love. The Dervish beholds the secret knowledge of God which fills the heart of his spiritual preceptor (murshid), and through it receives a similar inspiration, and acquires a full perception of all that he possesses, just as the pupil learns from his master. As the lover delights in the presence of his sweetheart, so the Dervish rejoices in the company of his beloved preceptor. The sweetheart is the object of a worldly affection; but the preceptor commands a spiritual attachment.
The curls or ringlets of the beloved are the grateful praises of the preceptor, tending to bind the affections of the Dervish-pupil; the moles on her face signify that when the pupil, at times, beholds the total absence of all worldly wants on the part of the preceptor, he also abandons all the desires of both worlds—he, perhaps, even goes so far as to desire nothing else in life than his preceptor; the furrows on the brow of the beloved one, which they compare to verses of the Koran, mean the light of the heart of the murshid: they are compared to the verses of the Koran, because the attributes of God, in accordance with the injunction of the Prophet: «Be ye endued with divine qualities,» are possessed by the sheikh (or murshid).
Perhaps I can do no better than to quote one of the foremost authorities on Sufism[3] in regard to Omar's teachings.
«Seldom has a poet suffered from his friends and his foes as has Omar Khayyam. ‹He has been regarded,› says a writer, ‹as a free-thinker, a subverter of faith; an atheist and materialist; a pantheist and a scoffer at Mysticism; an orthodox Musulman; a true philosopher, a keen observer, a man of learning; a bon vivant, a profligate, a dissembler and a hypocrite, and a blasphemer—nay, more, an incarnate negation of positive religion and of all moral beliefs; a gentle nature, more given to the contemplation of things divine than worldly enjoyments; an epicurean sceptic; the Persian Abu-l-Ala, Voltaire, and Heine in one.› The writer has in view the well-known criticisms of Von Hammer, Renan, Ellis, Nicolas, Garcin de Tassy, Whinfield, Aug. Muller, etc. He might have added Vedder's curious misunderstanding of the ‹Beloved,› making him a damsel and a playtoy, and the thousand and one small ideas set forth by Omarian Societies.
«All this criticism is curious because it is so completely out of harmony with the facts of Omar's life. It is true that no complete, authentic manuscript of Omar's is known, and equally true that no comprehensive biography is known; but detailed information has come down to us from his contemporaries. From these notes enough can be gathered to show that Omar was a great man indeed, one who clearly and forcibly shows the four sides of a perfect character.