“When I offer my friends anything it ought to be worth having,” said Faizi. “Now I want to tell you of something else: about a meeting that took place yesterday evening at the palace, and at which I wish you had been present. In spite of state troubles that again overwhelm the Emperor, he found both time and inclination to hold one of his philosophical and theological gatherings, for which, just now, there is an opportunity, as the Christian missionaries from Goa are again here. Yesterday a number of Ulamas and Mullahs were assembled in one of the great halls of the palace. Among them naturally Abdul Kadir appeared; then there were the Jesuits, a Jew, and a Parsee, and your former tutor Kulluka, who has returned here, and whom doubtless you have already greeted; my brother Abú-l Fazl was also present, and I also had that honour, and took for my part in the course of the discussion your ancient atheistical philosophy of nature. Akbar himself inclined a little my way, while Kulluka defended the orthodox Brahmanical Vedanta,[3] and Abú-l Fazl the ordinary human ground. Kulluka detected him now and then in Buddhistic heresies, but let them pass, saying there was no Buddhist present to defend his creed. You know there are some here, but none fit to take part in these discussions. The Emperor scarcely took any part in what went on, but only listened; and perhaps the most remarkable part of these discourses was their conclusion. Nothing could be better ordered or more courteous than the beginning; our Mullahs, calm and grave, saying but little; nothing could be more gentle than the Padres, piping as sweetly as bird-catchers; the Jew, a follower of Maimonides,[4] was the same, but very silent, and not quite at his ease; the Parsee was poetical and not always very intelligible; and as for us, we every now and then threw in some problem or argument, gathered from the philosophers of old days, or that we had learnt from the Arabs or Persians, and which did not appear to be quite to the tastes of the disputants. By degrees they began to grow warm, and from arguments proceeded to assertions, and from assertions to hard words, especially between the Muhammadans and Jesuits, though on the whole we were not spared; and in the end there was shouting, cursing, and noise, in spite of the presence of the Emperor, enough to deafen us. In all this the Mullahs were foremost, who, as you understand, consider themselves as the most injured. Akbar sat watching this foolish scene, not without secret satisfaction, and glanced every now and then at me with a smile; but at last it became too much for him, and he saw that in his presence it was not fitting such a spectacle should continue. ‘Faizi,’ said he, signing to me, ‘have the door opened to these people, as they no longer know how to conduct themselves. I gave them the fullest opportunity for defending their various religious theories against each other, in order that I might decide who had the best grounds for his opinions; and what have they done? Each has endeavoured to outdo his neighbour in shouting and cursing; nothing else. Let there be an end of it.’ ‘Sire,’ I answered, ‘we had better send them all away; if two only should remain, there will be no end to the strife.’ Akbar laughed, but rising from the seat where he had calmly remained all through the storm, he said, in his powerful voice, which at once enforced silence on all around, ‘We thank you, gentlemen, for the pleasant evening we have passed, due to your kindness and interesting discussions. We hope for another such interview before long, but the present one is closed,’ and with a sign of his hand he dismissed them. The greater part withdrew, grumbling. Oh, Siddha, how foolish men are thus to curse and hate each other for the sake of abstract problems, of which they know nothing, and which, even if they did, would not advance them one single step in the practice of what honour and duty enjoin!”
“I quite agree with you; and to follow the two last are often hard enough,” answered Siddha, with a sigh, knowing far more of the difficulties of which he spoke than the other suspected.
“But now tell me,” said Faizi, “how it comes that you are here; I thought that you, with your men, were already on your way to join the camp.”
“We had started,” said Siddha, “but received counter-orders on the road. We are to remain some days longer at Agra, to my great pleasure, as it gives me the opportunity of being present at the great festival of to-day, which celebrates the Emperor’s birthday, of which I have heard so much.”
That there was another reason for rejoicing at a longer delay in Agra, Siddha did not think it necessary to add.
“That reminds me,” said Faizi, “it is time to go to the palace before the durbar. The Emperor receives, as you know, the foreign ambassadors to-day. Come with me, and you can take your place among the officers of your rank.”
Although Siddha had been more than once present at a durbar, yet as with Faizi he entered the great throne-hall, where the Emperor had already taken his place, the impression made upon him was almost as great as on the first occasion. He looked with admiration at the splendid white marble columns and walls inlaid with beautiful mosaics, delicate arches, with silk and velvet curtains falling in rich folds. He was much struck by the great assembly, which was larger and more splendid than any he had yet seen. At one end of the hall, lit by a softened light from above, was the Great Mughal, seated on a throne sparkling with precious stones; on both sides, standing in long ranks, were the Umara,[5] the ministers, generals, and nobles of high rank, and then ambassadors from neighbouring countries in their various costumes, among them the two Jesuits; and at the end the lesser officials and officers, amongst whom Siddha, according to his rank, had taken his place.
The chief part of the ceremony was the exchange of presents. The ambassadors and others approached the Emperor in their turn. On reaching the throne they raised their right hands to their foreheads and bowed their heads before the Emperor, then placed their presents, consisting chiefly of costly objects of art, by the side of the step on which the throne was raised, and in their turn they received presents on behalf of the Emperor. Aquaviva also drew near the Mughal, bearing a splendidly bound Latin Bible, which, according to custom, he was about to lay down; but Akbar, rising from his throne, advanced a step or two, and took the book from the hands of the missionary. “We thank you, worthy Father,” he said, “for this kindly thought, and trust that what we have to offer will not be less welcome to you,” and taking from the hands of a Brahman standing by his side a voluminous and beautifully ornamented manuscript, he presented it to the Jesuit, saying, “This is a copy of the ‘Atharva-Veda,’[6] one of the most ancient of our holy books of India; it is accompanied by a Persian translation.”
With deep respect Aquaviva received the imperial gift, though one might question whether in truth he was much pleased, and if he did not see in it some allusion to the meeting of the preceding evening; which was the more probable as the Emperor was always informed beforehand what presents were to be made him, that the return might be appropriate. But whatever the Padre thought, it was not difficult to guess what impression this affair made on the orthodox Brahmans. There was a frown on almost every forehead in their ranks, and Abdul Kadir could scarcely restrain his indignation. They could not read the meaning of the return present, and how by it Akbar wished to show that he took no part with the Christians. All they saw was the special honour shown to a Christian. Abú-l Fazl, who understood it better, nevertheless shook his head, vexed at the needless defiance and insult to the Muhammadans offered by the (in other respects) humane and wise Akbar; still he confessed that they almost deserved it for their unmanly conduct of the previous evening.
After the ceremonial of the reception of presents was over, the Mughal was for some time occupied with giving audiences and appointments; among others our Siddha was called to him.