Friday, 6 January 2012

As of 9th April, 2012, The Annual Review of Eurasian Studies 2012 has been published.
The Annual Review of Eurasian Studies (2012) is committed to delivering original, peer-reviewed research from international scholars to a worldwide audience, whose contributions come from all parts of the world. From 2012, the latest issues of the review shall also be available online at itunes.apple.com, barnesandnoble.com, Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.de, Amazon.fr. 

Simurgh in the Poetry of Farid al-Din ‘Attar by Raza Ashraf Zadeh / Fatima Fayyaz




Simurgh in the Poetry of Farid al-Din ‘Attar

Raza Ashraf Zadeh/Fatima Fayyaz

First popularized by the tales of Zal, Rustam and Asfandyar, Simurgh the mythical bird has captured the imagination of the readership of the Persian poetry and even beyond. Every lexicographer of Persian language has attempted at a definition of ‘simurgh’ in his peculiar way, reflecting their respective knowledge and interpretation. To quote from the lexical work of Anjuman Ara’:
“Sirung, rhyming with birung, is employed in the meanings of Simurgh, was a physician. It is a popular belief that Simurgh was a large bird, from the mountainous range of Caucasus, living in isolation and had initiated Zal and Rustum, into multiple disciplines. Farid al-Din ‘Attar, 13th century Persian poet, celebrates Simurgh in his magnum opus Mantaq al-Tair, as a protagonist.
It has also been mentioned that a recluse named Simurgh, once lived in the mountainous range of Alborz as ‘Abdul Wasi’ Jabali muses:
Courtesy has lost its writ, and fidelity became instinct.
From them only their name remains, like Simurgh and Kimia.

Simurgh has also been called Sirang, or made of thirty colours:
         I have not seen your countenance but a thought of it
         I have not seen Sirang, but in fables.
 Rada Quli Khan argued that Simurgh was the name of a physician, as Su’ne was a devout about whom Avesta informs us that he flourished a century before Zoroaster and passed away a couple of years after the introduction of the Zoroastanism.
Not much focus has been given on this aspect in the Islamic tradition and the only reference repeated again and again is about it dwelling in the Koh-Kaf or the Caucasus. However, multiple tales have been recounted with Simurghas the archetypal protagonist:
         God, in the beginning created a bird, devout in nature and endowed with all the sublime attributes. He envisaged his face in the human form and the wings were all of bright contrasting colours and four wings were made from the four directions and he was bestowed with an aquiline beak, and his body was also that of an eagle. He called it ‘Anqa or sphinx. Almighty, then revealed it upon Moses, son of Imran, the creation of this mythical bird, in the form of a couple of a male and a female. The wild beasts of Jerusalem would be its prey. And this bird would be counted as a pride for the children of Israel.
So time passed by and after the demise of Moses and Aaron and the rest of the children of Israel. Simurgh flied around the regions of Najaf, Hijaz and the dominions of Qais al-‘Am, wildly preying on animals and the children of human beings alike, all around till the time of the Prophet Khalid, son of Sinan. All the masses protested to Khalid against ‘Anqa’’s devouring the children callously. They prayed to the God to make him sterile, hence his species became extinct and was only to be found in the images on the floor and similar places. Though unreliable, this fable has some points of significance. Foremost amongst them is that ‘Anqa’ is the female partner of Simurgh, and hence belongs to the same genus. This bird is also renowned as a cannibal and for this very reason Sam forsakes the son, on the Alborz mountain where lies the nest of Simurgh. The story of Zal also mentions his cannibalism.
God blessed Simurgh with affection/ and he did not give it a thought to devour the children.
Simurgh descended from the cloud and played the harp,/ which he had taken from that hot stone.
He brought that playing to the Alborz mountain / as it was there that group had made its nest. 
He brought that to the children to play / and from that may not see his wailing cries.

The fourth factor is the beauty of the fowl, for which it is celebrated, at different layers of interpretation in the mystical poetry. Similarly, many fables have been recounting the tales of Simurgh and Anqa, where he is recounted as the master-bird, a concept whose origin lies in Avesta, where he is named Saen Morogha and in Pehlavi, as Sen Murv, or Simurgh, who is the lord and chief of all the birds and the primordial bird to be created.
In Behram Yasht (Yasht 14, para 35 and 36), its varengine quality has been mentioned and it has been eulogized as the bird of birds. Here Ahura Mazda makes a will to Zarathustra to make an amulet by rubbing the wing of Simurgh on his body so that no one may ever defeat him anywhere in the whole world, and this bird may become his guardian and that he may command respect from every one.
The enigma of Rustam’s victory over Asfandyar may thus be resolved, and so is the Simurgh’s support to Zal and later on to Rustum, this is the nature of Zoroastran power and provides a precedence for the world of wrestlers, which is richly contrasted against the brazen body of Asfandyar.
In its essence, the Simurgh’s wing is an amulet for those who hold it, however in the epic romances of Zal and Rustum it transformed into a mediator. Another mythical bird, which is a blend of Simurgh and ‘Anqa’ is found in the literary allusions to this bird. Its quality of varengine and being the bird of birds in the later developments of Persian literature is of significance. It resides on the top of the tree of Hervesp Tukhm, which is known for being a guardian against any kind of harm, in the essence of its name. Whenever the Simurgh flies from that tree, the tree grows thousands of new branches and whenever it comes down to sit again on the tree, thousands of its branches are broken and seeds scatter everywhere. These seeds fall down with the rainfall and grass grows on it abundantly. The Shahname describes the Simurgh’s abode on top of the Alborz mountain, where in the poetic oeuvre of Farid al-Din Attar, Simurgh lives in Tuba, which complies with the version recorded in Menu Khirad. The Islamic outlook that it takes now transforms it from Hervest Tukhme into Tuba, where every morning it emerges from its nest and his wings spread the lands, then fruits grow on, trees grow from its effects and vegetation on earth....


This was an excerpt from The Annual Review of Eurasian Studies 2012. You may read the remaining article, with end-notes, by purchasing the review. 

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Publication of The Annual Review of Eurasian Studies (2011)

As of 05th May, 2011, The Annual Review of Eurasian Studies has been published.
The Annual Review of Eurasian Studies (2011) is committed to delivering original, peer-reviewed research from international scholars to a worldwide audience, whose contributions come from all parts of the world. From 2011, the latest issues of the review shall also be available online at Amazon.co.uk.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010


CONTEMPORARY URDU LITERATURE
Razi Abedi
SEARCH for identity has been the dominant theme of Pakistani literature and distinguishes it from Urdu literature being produced elsewhere. Like many contemporary writers in the world, the Pakistani writer is primarily concerned with the problem of identity. But, beyond personal identity, he is also concerned with the problem of national identity. Pakistan was created through a well-defined and deliberate effort and its gensis lay in the assertion of a distinct identity within the vast complex of Indian cultures. The basis for its existence was the two-nation theory. After political separation from India the question that naturally perplexes our writers is whether they have created a national literature which can be distinguished as Pakistani literature.
In the three decades of its existence, Pakistan has produced a rich variety of sizable literature of some merit. Creative genius has found expression through regional as well as Urdu literatures. The very experience of independence, including the effort that went into the struggle for achieving it and the consequent excitements and disillusions, seem to have released energies expressing the national spirit that apparentary had lain dormant for centuries. Not that the national spirit had disappeared from the sensibility of the people, but that it moved only a few exceptionally creative minds and was not a national phenomenon till modern times. Now the entire nation seems to be involved in the national drama. Our writers are exercising this sensibility and trying to define it. A lot has been written in Pakistan about the Pakistani sensibility, directly and indirectly, from religious, cultural and aesthetic points of view, and it is still a live issue in Pakistan.

Perhaps fity-two years is not a sufficient period of time to develop a palpable national identity. Americans, Canadians and Australians, virtually after centuries of independent national existence, are still struggling to assert their distinct characters. We in Pakistan are still struggling to assert our own.

Three basic factors must be taken into account when considering Pakistani literature:

1. Pakistan was not created merely as an economic venture. It was not seen as an affluent colony created by Indian Muslims. It was rather an assertion of a distinct Muslim nationhood within India.

2. Once Pakistan was created relations with India became strained, and ultimately the borders with India, political as well as social and cultural, were sealed.

3. In Pakistan, immigrant Muslims did not obliterate the local cultures, as happened in British colonies where entire local civilisations were sometimes wiped out of existence. Here the immigrant culture, which brought a very rich and strong tradition with it, had to deal with the local cultures which were almost as rich, strong and deep-rooted.


Another important factor was that Muslims had always considered themselves aliens in India, even though it was a country which they had ruled for more than a thousand years. They always looked to Mecca and Medina as their true home, and their literature sang of the beauties of Persian flora and fauna. They used the metaphors of the Persian Gull and Andaleeb or of the Arabian Tigris and Euphrates and the Lala of the desert. They had no use for the Indian Ganges and Jamuna or the local beauties of nature. They could not sing the praises of India or anything Indian.
It was different with Pakistan. Pakistan was their own land, representing their achievements and aspirations. It was their home and they wanted to sing of it. Thus, in Pakistan a sense of national identity was very strong. Here it was not so much a question of transplanting a culture from one land to the other. The challenge which the new nation faced was to build on foundations of past traditions a new world based on fresh aspirations and ideals. In the midst of this confusion and controversy the Pakistani writer began producing an indigenous Pakistani literature.

Urdu literature has always been a literature of protest. It may be a protest veiled in metaphors, as in the work of Ghalib and Mir, or it may take the satiric form of a Sauda or the overt ironies of Nazir Akbarabadi, but it has always spoken the language of protest. Since 1857 its subject has been predominantly political, as in the exhortations of Hali or  the rebukes of Akbar, but always looking for a new compact. Two movements were launched by the British to combat and depoliticalise Urdu literature. One was started in 1800 in Fort William College, Calcutta. Its object primarily was to train British Civil Servants in Indian languages, law, history and customs. The literature that resulted was essentially romantic and the emphasis throughout is on style. Motifs from the old romantic lore were freely used, and these promoted medieval optimism. The stories are written according to a given framework, following the pattern of the Arabian Nights and were designed to make us feel that however miserable life may be at present, all will be right in the long run, under the guidance of a special Providence.

The other movement was launched under the auspices of Anjuman-e-Punjab in 1865 in Lahore. It arranged the famous poetic symposium (known as Mushaira in Urdu) actively patronised by Col. Halroyed, the Director of Public Instructions for Punjab. This movement was meant to encourge ‘poetry of non-sectarian character...aiming at moral instruction, and presenting a natural picture of feelings and thoughts’. Description of the beauties of nature was defined as the main object of this new poetry. It was obviously another attempt to pursue the aims of Fort William College and to divert Urdu literature into harmless, optimistic and submissive channels. The literature which ultimately emerged was represented by Iqbal who conceived of literature and politics in terms of a spiritual renaissance. The salient features of this movement were the denunciation of the materialism and depravity of the West and the greatness of our ancient cultural heritage. These two strains to varying degrees still reverberate in our contemporary literature. 
Josh and Hafeez continued this tradition in their own, at times in divergent, ways.

An offshoot of this anti-Western tradition was the Progressive Movement, which produced a literature of protest against the old values and the tyrannies of the dominant classes at the time. Faiz, Raashed and Manto represent this trend, though Manto later dissociated himself formally from the movement. Protest and the quest for a new social compact go side by side in all these writers' works. Till independence, our literature, dominated by such vociferous Progressive writers, not only expressed the pain and consequent anger toward prevailing social injustices but also introduced a note of optimism about the outcome of the popular struggle against oppression. The Progressive writers had been brought up in the classical tradition, but they had an acute awareness of prevalent ills which could not be comprehended or expressed in terms of the old ideas or through conventional forms, though some tried to do so. The language and general poetic structure and imagery in the poetry of Faiz, for example,  are conventional but convey new ideas. The motif of his poetry is love--not the mystic idea of love (Ishq) any more. Here Ishq stands for a commitment to socio-political ideals.

Partition came at a time when the Progressive movement was at its highest point. Independence brought in its wake a mad dance of death in the form of communal riots all over India which caused an unprecedented upheaval and resulted in the transfer of population on a mass scale. The misery caused by man to man in all forms of fanaticism, greed and brutality became the theme of post-independence literature. The hopes that independence would bring a better life were frustrated. Instead, unrest, selfishness and exploitation reigned. The poet cried out:

  We have been plunged into darkness again, 
  The bells of the morning have deceived us.

Thus, starting with complaints and protests and then after a concerted and determined effort, a goal had been achieved which now seemed lost to confusion. Ever since, our writers have been trying to find their direction.

The search has taken different forms in dif- 
ferent writers. Some have found their niche in revivalism. This trend has led Intezar Hussain to old folk-lore and to the local interests and customs of his native province--the United 
Province--in India. He also attempts to revive the purity of the language. Others have gone to the roots of local cultures, to the ancient cities of Harappa and Mohenjodaro. There have also been serious and systematic works, such that of Qur’at-ul-Ain Haider in Aag ka Darya (The River of Fire), in which she explores the streams of Indian culture which as far back as a thousand years ago. Jafer Taher, on the other hand in Haft Kishwar (The Seven Lands) attempted to write an epic based on his descent from the Middle East.

Many others see themselves as belonging to a civilisation which is essentially Western and who write primarily in English. Even among those who who write in Urdu, there are many who in translation would sound as European or American as any Frenchman or New Englander. Many of our writers are highly trained in modern Western disciplines. Some, like Abdullah Hussain in Udas Naslain (Lost Generations) seek the solution of our problems in Western liberal traditions, and their work echoes the great literatures of the West. Russian and French traditions of social realism find expressions in the works of writers like Sa’adat Hasan Manto and Shaujat Siddiquee. In contemporary Pakistan one finds all the popular philosophies, movements and fads from all over the world. Traditionalism, symbolism, imagism, existentialism, impressionism, progres- 
sivism are all here. Pakistanis have attempted everything from the old-fashioned epic to the theater of the absurd.

Though the tradition of drama actually has not flourished here and we have only a few names to mention in this field, such as Agha Hashr and Imtiaz Ali (for his famous Anarkali), recently some good plays have been written by Ibrahim Jalis and Zia Sarhadi. Some amateur young playwrights have also shown promise, such as Sarmed Sehbai. Nowadays, much of this dramatic talent gravitates towards television where some good plays are produced, sometimes adaptations from world classics but most of them original.

But there has also been a reaction against the concern with collective social problems, so much emphasised our poetry since 1857, and especially in the Progressive movement. This reaction has taken the form of emphasizing the individual over the collective, the particular over the universal. As a result the great tradition of ghazal has been revived. Ghazal has traditonally been considered as almost synonymous with poetry itself. An impressionistic poem composed of mutually independent verses of two lines each, connected solely in form, ghazal has served as good vehicle for the communication of all sorts of ideas. Verses in the same ghazal may variously express erotic, mystic, didactic and political ideas. All Urdu poets have written ghazals, but the tradition of Mir, our great master of ghazal, has been revived in modern times by Nasir Kazmi.

Though ghazal is still the most popular form of poetry in Urdu, other genres have also developed and flourished. Geet was the first of them. Originally written in Hindi, geet is a short lyric, expressing erotic ideas and meant to be sung to the accompaniment of music. It has become very popular in popular music, and the film industry has promoted its rapid growth.

The city of Lahore has played a vital role in promoting these as well as other new trends and ideas. Following Deccan, Delhi and Lucknow, Lahore has been the centre for Urdu literature for the last one century. The soil of the Punjab is fertile not only for agriculture but also spiritually and intellectually. Gandhara art, a beautiful blend of Indian and Greek cultures, along withthe Buddhist academy at Taxila, are are examples of Punjabi artistic liberalism. Lahore can equally boast the classical Shalimar gardens built on a pattern of geometrical symmetry, as well as the romantic Bagh-e-Jinnah, modelled on the concept of beauty in a state of nature.

Between these two extremes Lahore and its people live in a world that is simultaneously classical and romantic--a tradition of ideal flexibility, adaptability, liberalism and creative spontaneity. It is no accident that the Punjab gave two religions to the world (the Sikh and the Ahmadi). Significant religious and political movements chose this land for the propagation and practice of their doctrines. Religious scholars like Maulana Maudoodi and Ghulam Ahmed Pervez are among them. Two extreme Islamic fundamentalist-cum political movements, the Ahrar and the Khaksars originated and died here before the birth of Pakistan. In the world of literature, Hali and Azad started their movement for new poetry in the last century in this city under the auspices of the Literary Association of the Punjab (Anjuman-e-Punjab). Great painters like Chughtai, Allah Bux and Sadequain worked in Lahore and rose to eminence in the art world. Bare Ghulam Ali Khan, Roshan Ara, Nazakat Ali and Salamat Ali and many others enriched Indian classical music, and their melodies can still be heard in this city. Last but not least, the Muslim demand for the state of Pakistan was passed here in 1940, and history has recorded it as the Lahore Resolution. The Lahore Literary Forum, known as Halqa-e-Arbab-e-Zauq, which led the new trends in Urdu literature for decades, was founded here just before independence. Not for nothing is this called the Land of God's bounty.

Wherever you go poetry is with you. It is in our bones and is as essential to us as breath. You can find verses inscribed with flowery patterns expressing the most intimate feelings, religious or philosophical truisms, erotic outburst--all of these on the inside and outside of rickshaws, taxis, buses, restaurants, cigarette kiosks and in commercial advertisements. No social function is considered complete without a poetic recitation. Religious ceremonies, social gatherings, gay parties, marriages and even death itself requires poetry. Mushaira is the most popular example of poetic recitation in which the poet and the audience equally and vociferously participate.

It is not wholly correct that the addiction to poetry is a remnant of a feudal past, since our folk tradition also abounds in it down to the lowest classes of our society. Poetry is even more popular than music, and connoisseurs can be heard lamenting that people have no ear for music and that a song is appreciated more for its words than for its melody. Even modern industrial Pakistan is being consumed by the poetic. We now have a sizable body of poetry which has as its subject the new situations created by industrialisation. There seems to be no threat to our indigenous poetry from the modernisation of society, though a significant change in its subject matter, structure and the general tone is already discernible.

Ghazal still continues its popularity. However, new experiments are also taking place. Free verse, prose-poem, adaptations from the rich folk tradition and from contemporary literature around the globe abound. New trends have especially become visible since the India-Pakistan war of 1965. Attempts are being made to break the conventional linguistic barriers, and the vocabulary as well as the syntax are being rudely shaken. These trends have been incorporated into a school headed by the poet Iftekhar Jalib and his disciples, but its echoes can be heard far and wide, and many young poets, consciously or unconsciously, are following this trend. Strange, outlandish metaphors verging on the absurd, and language rudely shaken out of its ordinary usage are features of this new mode of writing.

Urdu literature has also addressed the forms of humour, travelogue and biography. But in the last few years it has been especially devoted to translation. Hundreds of poets from all corners of the world have been translated into Urdu. But thematically there has been a radical change here. Since 1874, led by the Anjuman-e-Punjab, English romantic and Victorian poets have been  translated and in some cases beautifully assimilated into our classical traditions. This process received generous official patronage and encouragement. National independence caused a break with this special relationship with English literature. At the same time, partition put up a barrier to Indian influences. Instead, we have become more open to influences from all around the world, particularly from the Third World. Large-scale translations are now being made of writings from Africa, Palestine, Eastern Europe, Latin America and Indochina. Chinese and Russian literatures have become freely available in recent years. We realize that many literatures exist in the world and that New York, Moscow and Peking are more accessible and closer to us than Delhi, Lucknow and Bombay. At the same time, translations from our own folk traditions and regional literatures are also becoming popular. Our contemporary literature is a literature of exploration. The young writer is looking for a new world.

Along with experiments in creative literature, explorations are also being made in the field of literary criticism. Every new literary work appears with a preface attached. Every writer views his work as the start of a new movement for which a proper critical climate has to be created. This practice of writing long exhortative prefaces started with Hali. But the new critical atmosphere is charged with controversy. There are those who, like the critic Hasan Askari, believe that tradition must be rooted in religious faith and that for any sound literature to exist a sound metaphysical underpining is essential. Other critics adhere to the dialectics of Marx, while still others like Wazir Agha relate literature to the soil and believe that all great literature emerges from the land, both in its physical aspect and in its social and cultural traditions. In the larger context, we have among our critics religious reformists as well as absurdists and pure aesthetes.

To sum up, there now exists a vast literature of sufficient merit which is clearly  Pakistani, smelling of the land and expressing the aspira- 
tions and anxieties of its people. It is vital, dynamic and emplorative, and scarcely any dogmatism, and this too augurs well for its future.

Sunday, 26 September 2010

SANÂ'Î'S HADÎQATU' L-HAQÎQAT OR THE ENCLOSED GARDEN OF THE TRUTH by J. Stephonson




SANÂ'Î'S HADÎQATU' L-HAQÎQAT OR THE ENCLOSED GARDEN OF THE TRUTH

   by J. Stephonson

Several years ago, on looking up the literature pertaining to the earlier Sufi poets of Persia, I found that there was no European edition or translation, nor even any extended account of the contents of any of the works of Sanâ'î. Considering the reputation of this author, and the importance of his writings for the history of Sufiism, the omission was remarkable; and I was encouraged by Dr. E. D. Ross, Principal of the Calcutta. Madrasah, to do something towards filling up the blank. The present volume is an attempt at a presentation of a part of Sanâ'î's most famous work, which, it is hoped. may serve to give an idea of his manner of thought not only to Oriental scholars, but also to non-Orientalists who may be interested in the mysticism of Persia.

MSS. of Sanâ'î's Hadîqa are not rare in European libraries and a selection of those contained in the British Museum and India Office libraries furnished me with as many as I was able to collate during the time I could devote to this work on the occasion of a recent furlough. My selection of MSS. for collation was, I must confess, somewhat arbitrary C I took because it was the oldest of those to which I had access H because it also was of respectable age, and fairly well written; M mainly on account of its being easily legible, this being a consideration, since; my time in London was limited, and the British Museum does not allow MSS. to leave the building; I I took because it was written in Isfahân and so might embody a Persian, as distinct from an Indian, tradition of the text; and A was selected because it was stated to be `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph of his revision of the text. I must here acknowledge my gratitude to the management of the India Office Library for the permission accorded me to take away these two valuable MSS. for collation in the country; the materials upon which the present text is based would otherwise have been much poorer, and the result even more inconclusive than it is.
Though thus in some degree arbitrary, and restricted to only two collections, I do not think a limited choice of MSS. could have
turned out much more fortunately. It has at least, I think, brought a considerable amount of light to bear on the history of the author's text, especially with regard to the labours of its editor `Abdu'l-Latîf in the seventeenth century; though, as explained in the Introduction, I am very far from imagining that we have arrived at any close approximation to the author's original. I do not say that a reconstruction of Sanâ'î's original text is impossible; though judging merely from the MSS. I have examined, I am inclined to doubt the possibility. The text fell into confusion at a very early date, and it will perhaps only be by prolonged search or by a lucky chance that a future editor will obtain a copy which approximates in any close degree to the original; though a closer and more prolonged study of the copies we possess would, I have no doubt, give indications as to the place of many lines and passages which in the present edition are almost certainly wrongly placed or have been set apart as homeless. But at the present stage of Oriental studies it is unprofitable to devote to the preparation of a text the same prolonged research which we are accustomed to see in editions of the classical authors of Greece and Rome; and the labour of scholars in the province of Oriental letters is better expended on a first rough survey of the ground, so much of which remains as yet absolutely unknown; when a general knowledge of the whole has been obtained, it will be time to return for a thorough cultivation of each individual plot.
In the list of the variant readings I have found it quite impossible to indicate the different order of the lines and sections in the several MSS., nor have I as a rule given the variations in the titles of the sections. Otherwise the list is complete.
The translation is as literal as I have been able to make it. The notes are largely taken from the commentaries of `Abdu'l-Latîf, published along with the text in the Lucknow lithograph (L), and of `Alâu'd-Dîn, similarly given in the lithograph (B) which I obtained from Bombay. I have utilized all such portions of these commentaries as appeared to me to be helpful in arriving at an understanding of the text; matter taken from the commentary in the Lucknow lithograph I have distinguished by the letter L, also used in the list of variants to denote the readings of this lithograph; similarly the matter of `Alâu'd-Dîn's commentary is distinguished in the notes by the letter B. Where the note presents a literal translation of the
commentaries, I have indicated this by the use of inverted commas; where my note gives only the general sense of the commentary I have omitted the quotation marks, the source of the note being sufficiently indicated by the appropriate letter.
In the fuller explanation of the technicalities of Sufi. philosophy I have drawn largely on the first volume of the late E. J. W. Gibb's "History of Ottoman Poetry," and especially on the second chapter of that work; where allusions to proper names, etc., are not explained by the commentators, I have often quoted from Hughes's "Dictionary of Islam." Quotations from the Qur'ân I have usually given in Palmer's translation. Finally, I am myself responsible for the notes in cases where no source is given; these are usually either in places where the meaning of the text is not easy to grasp, and where nevertheless the commentators, as not infrequently happens, pass over the line without explanation; or on the other hand such notes refer to matters of common knowledge to Persian scholars, which however may not be familiar to others; I have added a certain number of such in order, as stated already, to render the work of some use to non-Persianists who take an interest in the philosophies of the East.
Had I been able to devote myself continuously to the work, the number of references from one part of the text to another might have been considerably increased, and the author's meaning probably in many places thus rendered clearer; I think also, as I have already said, lines and passages that are here doubtless misplaced might have found, if not their original, still a more suitable home. But it has often happened that months, in one case as many as eleven, have elapsed between putting down the work and taking it up again; and thus all but the most general remembrance of the contents of the earlier parts of the text has in the meanwhile escaped me. I can only say that it seemed better to let the work go out as it is, than to keep it longer in the hope of obtaining a continuous period of leisure which may never come, for a more thorough revision and recasting of the whole.

p. vi

ABBREVIATIONS.

L (in the notes) refers to the commentary of 'Abdu'l-Latîf.
* (in the notes) refers to the commentary of 'Alâu'd-Dîn.
Gibb = A History of Ottoman Poetry, vol. I, by E. J. W. Gibb. London. Luzac & Co., 1900.
Sale = Sale's Translation of the Qur'ân, with notes (several editions; a cheap one is published by Warne & Co.).
Stein. =Steingass's Persian-English Dictionary.
B.Q. =The Burhân-i Qâti` (a Persian Dictionary, in Persian).
The scheme of transliteration adopted is that at present sanctioned by the Asiatic Society of Bengal.
The references in the notes to other passages of the work are given according to the page and line of the Persian text (indicated also in the margin of the translation).
Quotations from the Arabic ore indicated by printing in italics.
Abû'l-Majd Majdûd b. Adam Sanâ'î 1 was born at Ghazna, and lived in the reign of Bahrâmshâh (A.H. 512-548, A.D. 1118-1152). Ouseley says of him that he "while yet young became one of the most learned, devout, and excellent men of the age which he adorned. His praise was on every tongue; for, in addition to his accomplishments in the Sufi philosophy, he possessed a kind and benevolent heart, delightful manners, and a fine taste for poetry . . . . Sanâî in early life retired from the world and its enjoyments, and the reason for his doing so is supposed to have arisen from the following circumstance.
"He had frequented the courts of kings and princes, and celebrated their virtue and generous actions. When Sultan Ibrahim of Ghazni determined upon attacking the infidel idolaters of India, Hakim Sanâî composed a poem in his praise, and was hurrying to the court to present it before that monarch's departure. There was at that time in Ghazni a madman known as Lâi Khûr (the ox-eater), who often in his incoherent wanderings uttered sentiments and observations worthy of a sounder head-piece; he was addicted to drinking wine, and frequented the bath. It so happened that Sanâî, in passing a garden, heard the notes of a song, and stopped to listen. After some time the singer, who was Lâi Khûr, addressing the cup-bearer,
said, 'Saki, fill a bumper, that I may drink to the blindness of our Sultan, Ibrahim.' The Saki remonstrated and said it was wrong to wish that so just a king should become blind. The madman answered that he deserved blindness for his folly in leaving so fine a city as Ghazni, which required his presence and care, to go on a fool's errand in such a severe winter. Lâi Khûr then ordered the Saki to fill another cup, that he might drink to the blindness of Hakim Sanaî. The cup-bearer still more strongly remonstrated against this, urging the universally esteemed character of the poet, whom everyone loved and respected. The madman contended that Sanâî merited the malediction even more than the king, for with all his science and learning, he yet appeared ignorant of the purposes for which the Almighty had created him; and when he shortly came before his Maker, and was asked what he brought with him, he could only produce panegyrics on kings and princes,--mortals like himself. These words made so deep an impression on the sensitive mind of the pious philosopher, that he secluded himself from the world forthwith, and gave up all the luxuries and vanities of courts.
"Sirâjuddin Ali, in his 'Memoirs of the Poets,' says, that in consequence of the sudden impression occasioned by Lâi Khûr's remarks, Sanâî sought instruction from the celebrated Sheikh Yusef Hamdani, whose cell was called the 'Kaabah of Khorâsân.'
"It was about this time that Behrâm Shah offered him his sister in marriage, which honour, however, he gratefully declined, and almost immediately set out on a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medinah. It is to the refusal of the royal bride that he alludes in his Hedîkeh, as an apology to the king, in the following lines:--'I am not a person desirous of gold or of a wife, or of exalted station; by my God, I neither seek them nor wish them. If through thy grace and favour thou wouldest even offer me thy crown, I swear by thy head I should not accept it.'" The account of Sanâ'î's conversion contained in the foregoing extract is probably, as Browne says, of little historical value.
Sanâ'î composed the present work after his return from the pilgrimage; according to most copies he completed it in A.H. 525 (A.D. 1131), though some MSS. have A.H. 534 or 535 (A.D. 11391141).
Sanâ'î was attacked during his lifetime on account of his alleged unorthodoxy; but a fatwa was published by the Khalîfa's court at
Baghdâd, vindicating his orthodoxy against his calumniators. His commentator `Abdu'l-Latîf, if in his Preface (v. post.) mentions the suspicions of the various sects on the subject of the Hakîm's heresies.
Several dates are given for the Hakîm's death. His disciple Muhammad b. `Ali al-Raffâ (Raqqâm), in a preface to the work preserved in one of the Bodleian MSS., gives Sunday, the 11th Sha`bân A.H. 525 (A.D. 1131). This date, however, fell on a Thursday; the 11th Sha`bân of the year A.H. 545 (A.D. 1150), which is the date given by Taqî Kâshî and the Âtashkada, was, however, a Sunday. Daulatshâdh and Hâjî Khalfa give A.H. 576 (A.D. 1180, 1181). Since the poet completed his Tarîqu't-Tahqîq in A.H. 528, the earliest of the three dates is impossible; the second would appear -to be the most probable.
Besides the Hadîqatu'l-Haqîqat, the first chapter of which is here presented, Sanâ'î wrote the Tarîqu't-Tahqîq("Path of Verification"), Gharîb-nâma ("Book of the Stranger"), Sairu'l-`ibâd ila'l-Ma`âd ("Pilgrimage of [God's] servants to the Hereafter"), Kâr-nâma Book of Deeds "), `Ishq-nâma (" Book of Love "), and `Aql-nâma ("Book of Reason"), as well as a Dîwân, or collection of shorter poems in various metres. All these works, with the exception of the Haqîqa and the Dîwân, are said by Prof. Browne, from whom the above list is taken, to be very rare.
vii:1 For the facts contained in the following sketch I am indebted to Sir Gore Ouseley's "Biographical Notices of the Persian Poets," Lond., Or. Trans. Fund, 1846; Rieu's and Ethé's Catalogues; and Prof. Browne's "A Literary History of Persia," Vol. II.
I have used the following manuscripts and lithographs in the preparation of the text:--
(1) Br. Mus. Add. 25329. Foll. 298, 7 ¾" x 4 ¾", 15 ll. 2 3/8" long, in small Nestalik, with gold headings, dated Safar A.H. 890 (A.D. 1485) [Adam Clarke].
There are marginal additions by two other hands; f. 1 is on different paper, by a different and later hand. The letters #, #, #, # are often not distinguished, # never; # and # are often not distinguished from # and #; the small letters are often without dots; the scribe usually writes the modern undotted # with three dots below. There are large omissions as compared with later MSS. and the lithographs.
I denote this MS. by C.
p. x
(2) Br. Mus. Or. 358. Foll. 317, 6 ¾" x 3 ¾", 17 ll. 2" long, in small Nestalik, in two gold-ruled columns, with two `unvâns, apparently written in the 16th cent. [Geo. Wm. Hamilton].
There are many marginal additions, mostly by one, a later, hand,: the MS. as a whole has been subjected to a great many erasures and corrections. The writing is good, the pointing of the letters fairly complete; the scribe usually writes and the # and #, the # rarely appears with three dots below. The MS. contains the prefaces of Raqqâm and of Sanâ'î himself, but, like the preceding, shows omissions as compared with later MSS. and the lithographs.
I denote this MS. by H.
(3) Br. Mus. Add. 16777. Foll. 386, 10 ¾" x 6 ¼", 15 ll., 3 ½" long, in fair Nestalik, with gold-ruled margins, dated A.H. 1076 (A.D. 1665) [Win. Yule].
This is a clearly written MS., the pointing of the letters usually full, #, and, # are frequently distinguished by their dots, and the pure # usually written with three dots below. Erasures are not frequent; the marginal corrections usually by the original hand. This MS. gives a very large number of divergent readings as compared with the others; its order is very different from that of the others; it is, as regards its extent, not so much defective as redundant, long passages appearing twice, and some passages not to be found in any of my other sources are also included. Some of these latter I have found in subsequent chapters of the Hadîqa, and it is possible that a more thorough search might have shown that they are all contained there.
This MS. is denoted by M.
(4) Ind. Off. 918. Ff. 395, 2 coll. each ll. 15; Nasta`lîk; the last four pp. written by another hand; 9 ½" by 5 ½". Written at Isfahân A.H. 1027 (A.D. 1618); occasional short glosses on the margin.
A clearly written and well-preserved MS., closely related to the following. The letters # and #, are frequently distinguished; the sign madda, is usually omitted.
I denote this MS. by I.
(5) Ind. Off. 923. The description given in the Catalogue is as follows --"Sharh-Hadîkah. The revised and collated edition of Sanâ'î's Hadîkah with a commentary and marginal glosses by `Abd-allatîf bin `Abdallâh al-`Abbâsî, who is best known by his revised
p. xi
and annotated edition of Jalâl-aldîn Rûmi's Mathnawî, his commentaries on the same poem, and a special glossary, Latâ`'f-allughât (lithogr. Lucknow under title Farhang-i-Mathnawî 1877). He died 1048 or 1049 (A.D. 1638, 1639) in Shahjahân's reign. The present copy, which is the author's autograph, was finished by him 20th Jumâdâ alawwal A.H. 1044 (=Nov. 11th, 1634), and represents an abridgement from a larger commentary of his, the Latâ'if al Hadâ'ik, from which also the glosses are taken (marked #). According to the dîbâca he began the larger work 1040 and completed it 1042 (1630-33) supported by his friend Mîr `Imâd-aldîn Mahmûd al Hamadânî, with the takhallus Ilâhî, the author of the well-known tadhkirah of Persian poets the Khazîna-i-Ganj.'
The following is an account of the contents of this MS. First comes a short preface by `Abdu'l-Latîf, introducing Sanâ'î's own preface, which is stated to have been written to the complete collection of his writings; it is frequently, states `Abdu'l-Latîf, not to be found in copies of his works. After Sanâ'î's preface comes another, called Râsta-i khiyâbân, by `Abdu'l-Latîf, described as a short preface to this writer's commentary; this concludes with a reference to Ilâhî and his share in the work, and two târîkhs by Ilâhî, giving A.H. 1040 as the date of its commencement, and 1042 as that of its completion. A few more lines by `Abdu'l-Latîf introduce the work itself. The original numbering of the folia commences with the text; there is also a pencil numbering, in English characters, beginning with the first preface The poem closes with 59 verses, in the same metre, which form an address to Abû'l-Hasan `Alî b. Nâsir al Ghaznawî, named Biryângar, sent to him at Baghdâd, because of the accusations of the traducers of the book. The date of completion of the text is given as A.H. 535; and, in a triangular enclosure of gold lines, it is stated that "this honoured copy was completed 20th Jumâdâ al-awwal, 1044 A.H." A few pages at the end, written by the same hand, give an account of how the book was sent to Biryângar at Baghdâd, on account of the accusations that were brought against it; how it was found to be orthodox, and a reply sent to Ghaznî.
This MS. I denote by A.
(6) The Lucknow lithograph published by the Newal Kishore Press, dated A.H. 1304 (A.D. 1886). This is an edition of the whole,
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work, including prefaces and `Abdu'l-Latîf's commentary. It comprises 860 pp., of 15 verses to a page; the paper, as usual, is somewhat inferior; the text is on the whole easily legible, but the same cannot always be said for the commentary, written in the margins and in a much smaller hand. It contains first a list of the titles of all the sections of all the chapters, followed by some verses setting forth the subjects of the ten chapters each as a whole. The ornamental title-page follows, stating that the Hadîqa of Sanâ'î is here accompanied by the commentary Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq of `Abdu'l-Latîf al-`Abbâsî. On p. 2 begins the 'First Preface', calledMirâtu'l-Hadâ'iq, by 'Abdu'l-Latîf, dated 1038 A. H.; this is not included in A; an abstract of it is given later (v. p. xxi). After this comes Sanâ'î's preface with `Abdu'l-Latîf's introductory words, as in A; this is called the 'Second Preface'. The 'Third Preface', which is `Abdu'l-Latîf's Râsta-i khiyâbân, is here written in the margins of the ' Second Preface'. Then comes the text with marginal commentary, introduced as in A by a few more words from `Abdu'l-Latîf. At the conclusion of the work is the address to Biryângar; and finally some qit`as on the dates of commencement and completion of the printing of the book.
I denote this lithograph by L.
(7) I obtained from Bombay, from the bookshop of Mirzâ Muhammad Shîrâzî, another lithograph, which comprises only the first chapter of the work accompanied by a copious marginal commentary. Pp. 15 + 4 + 31 + 188, 15 ll. to a page; published at Lûhârû (near Hissar, Punjab) 1290 A.H. (1873 A.D.). The title-page states that this is the commentary on Sanâ'î's Hadîqa by Nawâb Mirzâ `Alâu'd-Dîn Ahmad, Khân Bahâdur, chief (###) of Lûhârû, called `Alâ'î, the scribe being Maulavî Muhammad Ruknu'd-Dîn of Hissar. Ruknu'd-Dîn states (p. 2) that he himself was doubtful of many words, and did not understand a number of the verses; he took his difficulties to `Alâ'î, who explained all; and "Praise be to God, there never has been such a commentator of theHadîqa, nor will be; or if there is, it will be an imitation or a theft from this king of commentators." This reads rather curiously when considered in connection with the fact, to be mentioned hereafter, that the authors have incorporated in their commentary the whole of that of `Abdu'l-Latîf, and that their original contributions to the elucidation of the
p. xiii
text are of slight value. Ruknu'd-Dîn was asked one day by the printers (###) to bring them his copy (###) of the Hadîqa on its completion, for printing and publication. Pp. 4-10 are occupied by an Arabic preface by Ruknu'd-Dîn, again in extravagant praise of `Alâ'î and his accomplishments as a commentator. There follows (pp. 11-14) another title-page, and a short poem by `Alâ'î; and then (p. 15) a qit`a, giving the dates of commencement and completion of the work. Four pages of introduction (pp. 1-4) follow, and again with separate paging, 31 pp. of commentary on the first 28 pp. of the text, the reason apparently being that the whole of the commentary on these pages could not conveniently be written in the margins. The text comprises 186 pp., and includes (though I cannot find this stated anywhere) only the first book of the complete Hadîqa; the volume is concluded by some lines of `Alâ'î in praise of Muhammad, and a benediction. At the end of the marginal notes on every page is written "`Alâ'î sallamahu," or "Maulânâ `Alâ'î sallamahu Allâhu ta`âla."
p. xiii

Muhammad b. `Alî Raqqâm informs us, in his preface to the Hadîqa, that while Sanâ'î was yet engaged in its composition, some portions were abstracted and divulged by certain ill-disposed persons. Further, `Abdu'l Latîf in his preface, the Mirâtu'l-Hadâ'iq, states that the disciples of Sanâ'î made many different arrangements of the text, each one arranging the matter for himself and making his own copy; and that thus there came into existence many and various arrangements, and two copies agreeing together could not be found.

The confusion into which the text thus fell is illustrated to some extent by the MSS. which I have examined for the purpose of this edition. C shows many omissions as compared with later MSS.; at the same time there is a lengthy passage, 38 verses, which is not found in any other; H, though also defective, is fuller than C but evidently belongs to the same family. M contains almost all the matter comprised in `Abdu'l-Latîf's recension, much of it twice over as has already been mentioned; and in addition about 300 verses, or altogether 10 folia, which apparently do not of right belong to this first chapter at all; the first chapter, too, is here divided
p. xiv
into two chapters. The remaining MSS. and lithographs agree closely with each other and are evidently all nearly related.
The same story, of an early confusion of the text, is even more strikingly brought out if, instead of the omissions and varying extent of the text in the several MSS., we compare the order of the text. Here M startles us by giving us an order totally at variance with that of any other of our sources. There seems to be no reason for this: the arrangement of the subject is not, certainly, more logical; and it would appear that the confusion has simply been due to carelessness at some early stage of the history of the text; the repetitions, and the inclusions of later parts of the work, point to the same explanation. I need only mention the consequent labour and expenditure of time on the collation of this manuscript. C and H agree mostly between themselves in the order of the text, and broadly speaking the general order is the same as that of the later MSS.; the divergences would no doubt have appeared considerable, but that they are entirely overshadowed by the confusion exhibited by M. IALB agree closely with each other, as before.
The same confusion is again seen in the titles of the various sections as given in the several MSS. I am inclined to doubt how far any of the titles are to be considered as original; and it seems to me very possible that all are later additions, and that the original poem was written as one continuous whole, not divided up into short sections as we have it now. At any rate, the titles vary very much in the different MSS.; some, I should say, were obviously marginal glosses transferred to serve as headings; in other cases the title has reference only to the first few lines of the section, and is quite inapplicable to the subject-matter of the bulk of the section; in other cases again it is difficult to see any applicability whatever. It appears to have been the habit of the copyists to leave spaces for the titles, which were filled in later; in some cases this has never been done .. in others, through some omission in the series, each one of a number of sections will be denoted by a title which corresponds to that of the text following section in other MSS.
It is then obvious that `Abdu'l-Latîf is right in saying that in the centuries following Sanâ'î's death great confusion existed in the text of the Hadîqa. This text he claims to have purified and restored, as well as explained by means of his commentary; and it is his recension
p. xv
which is given in A, as well as in the Indian lithographs Land B. He says that he heard that the Nawâb Mirzâ Muhammad `Azîz Kaukiltâsh, styled the Great Khân, had, while governor of Gujrât in the year 1000 A.H., sent to the town of Ghaznîn a large sum of money in order to obtain from the tomb of Sanâ'î a correct copy of theHadîqa, written in an ancient hand; this copy the Nawâb, on his departure on the pilgrimage, had bestowed on the Amîr `Abdu'r-Razzâq Ma`mûri, styled Muzaffar Khan, at that time viceroy of that country. `Abdu'l-Latîf, however, being then occupied in journeys in various parts of India, could not for some time present himself before the Amîr; till in A.H. 1035 this chief came to Agra, where `Abdu'l-Latîf presented himself before him and obtained the desire of so many years. This MS. of the Hadîqa had been written only 80 years after the original composition, but the text did not satisfy the editor, and it was besides deficient, both in verses here and there, and also as regards twenty leaves in the middle of the work.
In the year A.H. 1037 `Abdu'l-Latîf came to Lahore, where having some freedom from the counterfeit affairs of the world and the deceitful cares of this life, he entered again on the task of editing the text, with the help of numerous copies supplied to him by learned and critical friends; He adopted the order of the ancient MS. before-mentioned, and added thereto such other verses as he found in the later MSS. which appeared to be of common origin, and to harmonize in style and dignity and doctrine, with the text. As to what `Abdu'l-Latîf attempted in his commentary, v. p. xxii post.
So far `Abdu'l-Latîf's own account of his work. We can, however, supplement this by a number of conclusions derived from the MSS. themselves.
In the first place, it appears that A is not, as stated in the India Office Catalogue, `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph copy. The statement that it is so is apparently based on the fact of the occurrence of the
words "harrarahu wa sawwadahu `Abdu'l-Latîf. b. 'Abdu'llâhi'l-`Abbâsî," at the end of the editor's few words of introduction to Sanâ'î's preface and again of the occurrence of the words "harrarahu `Abdu'l-Latîf . . . kishârih wa niusahhih-i în kitâb-i maimunat nisâb ast," at the end of the few lines of introduction immediately preceding the text. But both these sentences are found in the
p. xvi
Lucknow lithograph, and therefore must have been copied in all the intermediate MSS. from `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph downwards the words in each case refer only to the paragraph to which they are appended, and were added solely to distinguish these from Sanâ'î's own writings.
1 cannot find any other facts in favour of the statement that A is the editor's autograph; there are, however, many against it. Thus A is beautifully written, and is evidently the work of a skilled professional scribe, not of a man of affairs and a traveller, which `Abdu'l-Latîf represents himself as having been. Again, there are occasional explanatory glosses to the commentary, in the original hand; these would have been unnecessary had the scribe been himself the author of the commentary. The handwriting is quite modern in character and the pointing is according to modern standards throughout; the late date of A is immediately brought out clearly by comparing it with I (of date 1027 A.H.) or M (of date 1076 A.H.); though the supposed date of A is 1044 A.H. it is obviously much later than either of the others. But perhaps the most curious bit of evidence is the following; at the top of fol. 11b of the text of A there is an erasure, in which is written ### in place of an original reading ###, and as it happens this line is one which has been commented on by the editor; in the margin is a note in a recent hand,--###, which is true,--the commentary certainly presumes a reading ###, but this MS. had originally ###; the scribe could not therefore have been the commentator himself, i.e., `Abdu'l-Latîf
Further, not only is A not `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph, but it does not accurately reproduce that autograph. I refer to 34 short passages of Sanâ'î's text, which in A are found as additions in the margin; these, though obviously written in the same hand, I regard as subsequent additions from another source by the same scribe, not as careless omissions filled in afterwards on comparing the copy with the original. In the first place, the scribe was on the whole a careful writer; and the mistakes he has made in transcribing the commentary, apart from the text, are few. The omissions of words or passages of commentary, which have been filled in afterwards, are altogether 10; of these, two are of single words only; two are on the first page, when perhaps the copyist had not thoroughly settled down to his
p. xvii
work; five are short passages, no doubt due to carelessness; and one is a longer passage, the whole of a comment on a certain verse,--an example of carelessness certainly, but explicable by supposing that the scribe had overlooked the reference number in the text indicating that the comment was to be introduced in relation to that particular verse. Roughly speaking, the commentary is of about equal bulk with the text; yet the omissions of portions of commentary by the copyist are thus many fewer in number and much less in their united extent than the omissions of the text,--supposing, that is, that the marginal additions to the text in A are merely the consequence of careless copying. The reverse would be expected, since owing to the manner of writing, it is easier to catch up the place where one has got to in a verse composition; it would seem therefore. as said above, that the comparatively numerous marginal additions to the text are rather additions introduced afterwards from another source than merely careless omissions in copying. In the second place, none of these 34 passages are annotated by `Abdu'l-Latîf; in all likelihood, if they had formed part of his text, some one or more of the lines would have received a comment. The passages comprise, together, 63 verses; there is only one instance in the First chapter of the Hadîqa of a longer consecutive passage without annotation, and in general it is rare (eleven instances only) to find more than 30 consecutive verses without annotation; usually the editor's comments occur to the number of two, three or more on each page of 15 lines. I think, therefore. it must be admitted that the chances would be much against a number of casual omissions aggregating 63 lines falling out so as not to include a single comment of the editor. Thirdly, it is a remarkable fact that of these 34 passages the great majority are also omitted in both C and H, while they are present in both M and 1; to particularize, C omits 30 ½, H omits 28, both C and H omit 25 ½, and either C or H or both omit every one of these 34 passages; while I and M each have all the 34 with one exception in each case; further, while many of these 34 marginally added passages in A correspond exactly to omissions in H, the corresponding omissions in C may be more extensive, i.e., may include more, in each case, of the neighbouring text.
We must therefore, I think, conclude that after completing the transcription of A the scribe obtained a copy of the Hadîqa of the
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type of I or M, and filled in certain additions therefrom; and that '`Abdu'l-Latîf's edition did not originally contain these passages.
Let us turn to a consideration of I and its relation to `Abdu'l-Latîf's edition. I is dated A.H. 1027; it is, therefore, earlier than `Abdu'l-Latîf's edition of A.H. 1044. As we have seen, A is not `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph; but we have, I think, no reason to doubt that it was either copied from that autograph, or at any rate stands in the direct line of descent; so much seems to be attested by the occurrence of the words --"harrarahu `Abdu'l-Latîf . . . . . . . " and by the inscription at the end as to the completion of the book in A.H. 1044, the actual date of the completion of `Abdu'l-Latîf's work. Regarding, then, A as presenting us (with the exception of the marginally added passages) with a practically faithful copy of `Abdu'l-Latîf's own text, we notice a striking correspondence between this text and that of I. As to the general agreement of the readings of the two texts, a glance at the list of variants will be sufficient; and it is not impossible to find whole pages without a single difference of any importance. The titles also, which as a rule vary even so much in the different MSS., correspond closely throughout. The order of the sections is the same throughout; and the order of the lines within each section, which, ' is also very variable in the various M88., corresponds in I and A with startling closeness. The actual spellings of individual words also, which vary even in the same MS., are frequently the same in I and A; for example, at the bottom of p. ### of the present text the word ### or ### occurs three times within a few lines. The word may also be written ###, ###; thus while C and M have ###, H has first ### and then twice ###; I however has first ### and then twice ###; and this is exactly repeated in A. Another example occurs a few lines afterwards (p. ###, l. ###); the reading is ###, mâr-i shikanjmâr being followed by the izâdfat; this I writes as ###; in A an erasure occurs between ### and ###, doubtless due to the removal of a ### originally written there as in I.
The above will serve to show the close relation between I and A, or between I and `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph, of which A is a copy or descendant. But, however close this relationship, `Abdu'l-Latîf cannot actually have used I in the preparation of his revision of the text, or he would certainly have incorporated many of the 34
p. xix
passages before alluded to, which were all, with one exception, contained in 1. These, we have seen, were only added by the scribe of A, and by him only subsequently, from another source, after he had completed his transcription from `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph.
The facts, then, are these. There was in existence, before `Abdu'l-Latîf's time, a tradition, probably Persian, of the order of the text, which he adopted even in detail. This is represented for us by I, written A.H. 1027 at Isfahân; but I itself is somewhat fuller than the copy of which `Abdu'l-Latîf if made such great use. This copy may be called P. Such use, indeed, did `Abdu'l-Latîf make of P, that, so far as can be seen, it is only necessary that he should have had P before him, with one or two other copies from which he derived a certain number of variant readings, which he substituted here and there in his own edition for those of P.
We have now brought down the history of the text to A.H. 1044. Not much remains to be said; A, as we have seen, is quite possibly a direct copy of `Abdu'l-Latîf's autograph, with, however, marginal additions from another source. This other source might be at once assumed to be 1, but for the fact that only 33 out of the 34 marginally added passages occur in I; and it still seems to me at least possible that I was thus used. 1, though written at Isfahân, was probably by this time in India, where A, the so-called "Tippu MS.," was certainly written; at least, that I did come to India may be assumed from its presence in the India Office Library. Again, though it is, I think, impossible that the whole of the 34 passages added marginally in A should have been careless omissions of the copyist, one or two might possibly be so, and it is possible that the single line now under discussion may be such an omission, filled in from the scribe's original, not from another source. Finally it is, of course, always possible that the additions were taken from two sources, not one only; i.e., that while perhaps even 33 were filled in after comparison with I, the single remaining line may have been derived from elsewhere. Though absent in C, it is present in both H and M.
As to the lithographs, both are obviously descendants of A. The above conclusions may be summarized in the following stemma codicum.
p. xx

The present text is founded on that of the Lucknow lithograph L, with which have been collated the other texts mentioned above. L is practically a verbatim copy of A, the value of which has been discussed above. Though MSS. of the Hadîqa are not rare, at least in European libraries, I have not met with any in India; and a considerable portion of the first draft of the translation and notes was done on the basis of L and B alone. TheHadîqa is not in any case an easy book, with the exception, perhaps, of a number of the anecdotes which are scattered through it; and it was rendered far more difficult by the fact, which I did not recognize for some time, that a very great amount of confusion exists even in the text as it is published to-day, in the lithographs descended from `Abdu'l-Latîf's recension. There appeared to be frequently no logical connection whatever between successive verses; whole pages appeared to consist of detached sayings, the very meaning of which was frequently obscure; a subject would be taken up only to be dropped immediately.
p. xxi
I ultimately became convinced that the whole work had fallen into confusion, and that the only way of producing any result of value would be to rearrange it. This I had done, tentatively, for part of the work, before collating the British Museum and India office MSS. cited above.
When I came to examine the MSS., the wide variations, not only in the general order of the sections to which allusion has already been made, but in the order of the verses within each section, showed me that probably no MS. at the present day, or at any rate none of those examined by me, retains the original order of the author: and I felt justified in proceeding as I had begun, altering the order of the lines, and even of the sections, if by so doing a. meaning or a logical connection could be brought out. I need not say that the present edition has no claims to represent Sanâ'î's original; probably it does not represent it even approximately. In some cases there is, I think, no doubt that I have been able to restore the original order of the lines, and so to make sense where before it was wanting; in other cases this is possible, but I feel less confident; while in still others the reconstruction, preferable though I believe it to be to the order as found in any single MS., is nevertheless almost certainly a, makeshift, and far from the original order. Lastly it will be seen that I have quite failed, in a number of instances, to find the context of short passages or single lines; it seemed impossible to allow them to stand in the places they occupied in any of the MSS., and I have, therefore, simply collected them together, or in the ease of single lines given them in the notes.
p. xxi


Khwâja `Abdu'l-Latîf b. `Abdullâh al-`Abbâsî, already so frequently mentioned, explains to us in his Preface, the Mirâtu'l-Hadâ'iq, what he has attempted in his commentary on the Hadîqa. He states that he was writing in A.H. 1038, in the second year of the reign of the Emperor Shahjahân, that he had already completed his work on Jalâlu'd-Dîn Rûmî's Mathnawî, and that he had in A.H. 1037 settled down to work on the Hadîqa. 'What he professes to have done for the text of that work has been mentioned in the last section; the objects he has aimed at in the way of commentary and explanation are the following:--
p. xxii
Firstly, he has followed up the references to passages in the Qur'ân, has given these passages with their translations, and a statement of the sûra in which they are to be found. Secondly, the traditions referred to are also quoted. Thirdly, obscure passages have been annotated, and strange or curious Arabic and Persian words have been explained, after an investigation into their meanings in trustworthy books. Fourthly, certain signs have been used in transcribing the text, in order to fix the signification of various letters; thus the yâ'i kitâbî is denoted by ### subscript, the yâ'i majhûl similarly by ###, the yâ'i ma'rûf by ###, the Persian # (#) by #, the Arabic # by #, and so on. Again the vocalization has been attended to in words which are often mispronounced; thus ignorant people often substitute fatha for kasra in such words as `khizâna', of which the Qâmûs says "Khizâna is never pronounced with fatha"; 'Shamâl', meaning the North wind, should be pronounced withfatha, not kasra, as is often done. The izâfatjazm, and other orthographical signs have often been written in the text; and finally a glossary of the less known words has been added in the margin. Since it is inconvenient to have text and commentary separate, "in this copy the whole stability of the text has been dissolved, and the text bears the commentary along with it (###), i.e., text and commentary are intermingled, the commentary not being written in the margin, but each annotation immediately after the word or line to which it applies. These researches the author has also written out separately, and called them "Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq min Nafâ'isi'l-Daqâ'iq." The date is again given as A.H. 1038.
It appears then that the original form of the commentary was not that of marginal notes, as it is presented in A and L; that it was completed in 1038 A.H., and, in its separate form, was called the Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq. That this is the name of the commentary we know and possess, seems to have been the opinion of the scholar who prepared the Lucknow lithograph, which is entitled "Sanâ'î's Hadîqa, with the commentary Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq."
Besides the preface just considered, there is also another, found in both A and L, called the Râsta-i Khiyâbân, written especially, it would seem, as an introduction to the commentary Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq. After dwelling on the unworthiness of the writer, `Abdu'l-Latîf
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states that the interpretations given by him are not mere expressions of private opinion, but are derived from the best Arabic and Persian books; the emendations of the text are all derived from authentic MSS., and are in accordance with the judgment of discerning men; everything has been weighed and discussed by the learned. He does not, however, say that these explanations are the only ones, nor that he has commented on every line that to some people would seem to require it. Though his work may seem poor now while he is alive, it may grow in the esteem of men after his death. The work has been done in the intervals of worldly business, while occupied with affairs of government. There follows a lengthy eulogy of his friend Mîr `Imâdu'd-Dîn Mahmûd al-Hamadâni, called Ilâhî, two târîkhs by whom close this preface. The first târîkh says that the work having been begun in the year 1040. all the correction and revision was completed in 1042 (###); the second simply gives the date 1040.
These dates evidently cannot refer to the edition and commentary as first written; since we have seen that the text and the Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq are referred to by `Abdu'l-Latîf in 1038 as having been completed. It would seem that the editor had either been at work on another, revised and improved edition; or, as is assumed in the India Office Catalogue (No. 923), on an abridgment of his earlier work. Lastly, we have the date 1041 for the completed work of which A is a copy (see description of contents of A, in Section II, p. xi); and this seems to represent the final form of the work. in which the annotations are written in the margin, not, as at first, intermingled in the text.
In the India Office Catalogue the series of events is interpreted somewhat differently. The commentary as it appears in A (and L, the only form, apparently, in which we possess it) is stated to be an abridgement from a larger commentary, the Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq; according to the preface (the Catalogue states) the larger work wa-. begun in 1040 and completed in 1042. It is with diffidence that I venture to question this presentation of the facts; but A, in the description of which the above statements occur, does not contain the preface calledMirâtu'l-Hadâ'iq, and therefore presents no indication that the text and Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq had already been completed in
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1038. That the work done between 1040 and 1042 consisted in the preparation of the originalLatâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq is, from the statement of the Mirâtu'l-Hadâ'iq, impossible. We have seen, moreover, that the tradition in India is that the commentary as we have it, as it appears in A and L, is the Latâ'ifu'l-Hadâ'iq itself., and not an abridgement. I do not gather from the India Office Catalogue or elsewhere that two-commentaries, a larger and a smaller, are actually in existence; there may be other evidences of their former existence of which I am ignorant, but so far merely as my own knowledge goes, I can see no reason for assuming two commentaries, and would look on the labours of 1040-1042 in the light of revision and rearrangement, a work which was perhaps only finally completed in 1044, the date given in A for the completion of the work. Besides his work on the Hadîqa, `Abdu'l-Latîf had previously, as has been mentioned, published a revised and annotated edition of Jalâlu'd-Dîn Rûmî's Mathnawî, commentaries on the same poem, and a special glossary, the lithographed at Lucknow in A.D. 1877 under the title Farhang-i Mathnawî. He died in 1048 or 1049 A.H. (A.D. 1638, 1639).
A general description of the volume containing the other commentary which I have used in the preparation of the notes appended to the present translation, has already been given. Of the authors, or author and scribe, Mirzâ `Alâu'd-Dîn Ahmad of Lûhârû, called `Alâ'î, and Maulavî Muhammad Ruknu'd-Dîn of Hissar, I know no more, than is to be gathered from their prefaces.
Their commentary is of slight value as compared with that of `Abdu'l-Latîf: that is to say, that part of it which is original. The commentary is considerably more bulky than `Abdu'l-Latîf's, perhaps between two and three times as extensive; but it includes, without one word of acknowledgment, the whole of `Abdu'l-Latîf's work. This is, in the great majority of cases, reproduced verbatim; in some instances a paraphrase of `Abdu'l-Latîf's commentary has been attempted, and in certain of these it is plain that the authors did not understand the sense of what they paraphrased. Of their own work, a certain amount is superfluous, the sense of the text being immediately obvious; a certain amount is mere paraphrase of Sanâ'î's words: and another portion consists in an attempt to read
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mystical meanings into the original in passages which, as it seems, were never intended by the author to bear them. Notwithstanding these facts, I have, as will be seen, quoted freely in my notes from their commentary; for a certain portion of their work is helpful, and moreover, it seemed to me to be of interest to give in this way a specimen of present-day Indian thought and criticism in the field of Sûfîistic philosophy. I cannot, however, leave the subject of Sanâ'î's commentators without expressing my sorrow that scholars should have existed who were not only capable of such wholesale theft, but even lauded themselves on the results of it; witness the extravagant praise of `Alâ'î in Ruknu'd-Dîn's preface; and again the words
Praise be to God! There has never been. such a commentator of the Hadîqa, nor will be; or if there is. it will be an imitation or a theft from this king of commentators!" There is also no indication that the volume comprises only one out of ten chapters of the Hadîqa; it is everywhere implied that the. complete Hadîqa is presented.
p. xxv


The Hadîqatu'l-Haqîqat, or the "Enclosed Garden of the Truth", commonly called the Hadîqa, is a poem of about 11,500 lines; each line consists of two hemistichs, each of ten or eleven syllables; the bulk, therefore, is equal to about 23,000 lines of English ten-syllabled verse. It is composed in the metre ### which may be represented thus:
The two hemistichs of each verse rhyme; and the effect may therefore roughly be compared to that of English rhymed couplets with the accent falling on the first (instead of the second) syllable of the line, and, occasionally, an additional short syllable introduced in the last foot.
The chapter,; of which the Hadîqa consists treat, according to a few lines of verse at the end of the table of contents in the Lucknow edition, of the following subjects; the First, on the Praise of God, and especially on His Unity; the Second, in praise of Muhammad; the Third, on the Understanding; the Fourth, on Knowledge; the Fifth, on Love, the Lover, and the Beloved; the Sixth, on Heedlessness;
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the Seventh, on Friends and Enemies, the Eighth, on the Revolution of the Heavens; the Ninth, in praise of the Emperor Shâhjahân; the Tenth, on the characters or qualities of the whole work. This, however, is not the actual arrangement of the work as presented in the volume itself; the first five chapters are as already given, but the Sixth concerns the Universal Soul; the Seventh is on Heedlessness; the Eighth on the Stars; the Ninth on Friends and Enemies; the Tenth on many matters, including the praise of the Emperor. Prof. Browne (Lit. Hist. Persia, vol. ii., p. 318) gives still another order, apparently that of an edition lithographed at Bombay in A.H. 1275 (A.D. 1859).
Sanâ'î's fame has always rested on his Hadîqa; it is the best known and in the East by far the most esteemed of his works; it is in virtue of this work that he forms one of the great trio of Sûfî teachers,--Sanâ'î, `Attâr, Jalâlu'd-Dîn Rûmî. It will be of interest to compare some of the estimates that have been formed of him and of the present work in particular.
In time he was the first of the three, and perhaps the most cordial acknowledgment of his merits conies from his successor Jalâlu'd-Dîn Rûmî. He says:--

I left off boiling while still half cooked;
Hear the full account from the Sage of Ghazna."
And again--

"`Attâr was the Spirit, Sanâ'î the two eyes:
We walk in the wake of Sanâ'î and `Attâr."
`Abdu'l-Latîf, in his preface called the Mirâtu'l-Hadâ'iq, enters into a somewhat lengthy comparison between Sanâ'î and Rûmî, in which he is hard put to it to avoid giving any preference to one or other. It is interesting to observe how he endeavours to keep the scales even. He begins by adverting to the greater length of theMathnawî as compared with the Hadîqa, and compares the Hadîqa to an abridgement, the Mathnawî to a fully detailed account. Sanâ'î's work is the more compressed; he expresses in two or three verses what the Mathnawîexpresses in twenty or thirty, `Abdu'l-Latîf therefore, as it would seem reluctantly, and merely on the ground of his greater prolixity, gives the palm for eloquence to Jalâlu'd-Dîn.
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There is the most perfect accord between Sanâ'î and Rûmî; tile substance of their works, indeed, is in part identical. Shall it therefore be said that Rûmî stole from Sanâ'î? He asks pardon from God for expressing the thought; with regard to beggars in the spiritual world, who own a stock-in-trade of trifles, bankrupts of the road of virtue and accomplishments, this might be suspected; but to accuse the treasurers of the stores of wisdom and knowledge, the able natures of the kingdom of truth and allegory, of. plagiarism and borrowing is the height of folly and unwisdom.
With regard to style, some suppose that the verse of the Hadîqa is more elevated and dignified than the elegantly ordered language of the Mathnawî. The Hadîqa does indeed contain poetry of which one verse is a knapsack of a hundred dîwâns; nor, on account of its great height, can the hand of any intelligent being's ability reach the pinnacles of its rampart; and the saying--

"I have spoken a saying which is a whole work;
I have uttered a sentence which is a (complete) dîwân,"
is true of the Hadîqa. But if the sense and style of the Maulavî be considered, there is no room for discrimination and distinction; and, since "Thou shalt not make a distinction between any of His prophets," to distinguish between the positions of these two masters, who may unquestionably be called prophets of religion, has infidelity and error as its fruit. Who possesses the power of dividing and discriminating between milk and sugar intermingled in one vessel? `Abdu'l-Latîf sums up thus "in fine, thus much one may say, that in sobriety the Hakîm is pre-eminent, and in intoxication our lord the Maulavî is superior; and that sobriety is in truth the essence of intoxication, and this intoxication the essence of sobriety."
Prof. Browne, however, places the Hadîqa on a far lower level than the Eastern authors quoted above. He says 1:--"The poem is written in a halting and unattractive metre, and is in my opinion one of the dullest books in Persian, seldom rising to the level of Martin Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy, filled with fatuous truisms and pointless anecdotes, and as far inferior to the Mathnawî of Jalâlu'd-Dîn Rûmî as is Robert Montgomery's Satanto Milton's Paradise Lost."
p. xxviii
It is of course true that to us, at least, the interest of the Hadîqa is largely historical, as being one of the early Persian text-books of the Sûfî philosophy, and as having so largely influenced subsequent writers, especially, as we have seen, the Maulavî Jalâlu'd-Dîn Rûmî. Yet I cannot butt think that Prof. Browne's opinion, which is doubtless shared by other scholars, as well as the neglect to which the Hadîqa has been exposed in the West, is due not to the demerits of the original text so much as to the repellent and confused state into which the text has fallen; and I would venture to hope that the present attempt at a restoration of the form and meaning of a portion of the work, imperfect in the highest degree as I cannot but acknowledge it to be, may still be of some slight service to its author's reputation among European Orientalists.
The first Chapter or Book of the Hadîqa, which is here presented, comprises a little more than one-sixth of the entire work. The subjects of which it treats may be briefly resumed as follows:--
After an introductory section in praise of God the author speaks of the impotence of reason for the attaining a knowledge of God; of God's Unity, of God as First Cause and Creator and delivers more than one attack against anthropomorphic conceptions of God (pp. 1-10). After speaking of the first steps of the ascent towards God, for which worldly wisdom is not a bad thing, with work and serenity (pp. 10-11), he devotes the next portion of the book to God as Provider, to His care for man through life, the uselessness of earthly possessions, and to God as guide on the road, but self must first be abandoned (pp. 11-46). A fine section on God's incomprehensibility to man might perhaps come more fittingly at an earlier stage instead of here (pp. 16-18). After overcoming self, God's special favour is granted to the traveller on the path: but we see crookedly, and He alone knows what is best for us: He has ordered all things well, and what seems evil is so only in appearance (pp. 18-25).
The greater part of the book is really concerned with the life and experiences of the Sûfî, and especially with continually repeated injunctions as to abandonment of the world and of self; to be dead to this world is to live in the other. Pp. 25-30 are thus concerned with poverty in this world, with loss of the, self, humility, man's insignificance and God's omnipotence; pp. 30-34 with
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the necessity of continual remembrance of God, of never living apart from Him, and again of dying to the world; death to the world leads to high position with God. There follows (pp. 34-41) a series of passages on the duty of thanksgiving for God's mercies; His mercy however has its counterpart in His anger, and examples of His wrath are given; then returning again to the subject of His mercies, the author speaks of God's omniscience, and His knowledge of the wants of His servants; we must therefore trust in God for all the necessaries of life, they will be given as long as life is destined to last. Two later pages (48-50), which are similarly devoted to the subject of trust in God, should probably come here. Pp. 41-48 deal with the Sûfîs desire for God, and his zeal in pursuing the path; various directions for the road are given, especially as rewards the abandonment of the world and of self, and fixing the desires on God only; union with God is the. goal. The abandonment of self is again the theme of pp. 50-51.
A portion of the book (pp. 51-56) is, curiously, here devoted to the interpretation of dreams; after which the author treats of the incompatibility of the two worlds, again of the abandonment of earth and self, and of the attainment of the utmost degree of annihilation (pp. 56-58). There follows a passage on the treatment of schoolboys, a comparison with the learner on the Sûfî path, and an exhortation to strive in pursuing it (pp. 58-60). The next portion of the book (pp., 60-67) treats of charity and gifts as a form of renunciation, of relinquishing riches for God's sake; prosperity is injurious to the soul, and the world must be abandoned; possessions and friends are useless, and each must trust to himself; each will find his deserts hereafter, and receive the reward of what he has worked for here.
Pp. 67-80 treat of prayer, the preparation for which consists in purity of heart, humility, and dependence upon God. Prayer must come from the heart; the believer must be entirely absorbed in his devotions. Prayer must be humble; the believer must come in poverty and perplexity, and only so can receive God's kindness. A number of addresses to God follow, prayers for help, and humble supplications to God on the part of the author. A few pages (80-92) treat of God's kindness in drawing men towards himself, though His ways may appear harsh at first. The progress of the
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believer is described in a strain of hyperbole (pp. 82-83); and this portion closes with a few sections (pp. 83-86) on God's majesty and omnipotence somewhat after the manner of those in the earlier part of the book.
In pp. 86-97 the author speaks of the Qur'ân, and its excellence and sweetness. The letter however is not the essential: its true meaning is not to be discovered by reason alone. The Qur'ân is often dishonoured, especially by theologians, and by professional readers, who read it carelessly and without understanding it. A short section (pp. 97-98) on humility and self-effacement follows, and the book is brought to a close by a description of the godlessness of the world before the advent of Muhammad (pp. 98-100), which serves to introduce the subject of the Second Chapter.
Though it must he admitted that the author is occasionally obscure, sometimes dull, and not infrequently prosaic, some fine sections and a larger number of short passages of great beauty are contained in this chapter; I may perhaps be permitted especially to refer to the sections "In His Magnification," pp. 16-18. and "On Poverty and Perplexity," p. 74; while as characteristic and on the whole favourable passages may be mentioned "On His Omniscience, and His Knowledge of the Minds of Men," pp. 37-39; " On the Incompatibility of the Two Abodes," pp. 56-58; "On intimate Friendship and Attachment," pp. 62-63; and certain of the addresses to God contained in pp. 74-77.

Footnotes

xxvii:1 A Literary History of Persia, Vol. II., p. 319.
p. xxx


The author's Preface to the work, given in A and L, and occupying in the latter nearly thirteen closely printed pages, is here given in abstract. It was not, as will appear, written specially as an introduction to the Hadîqa, but to his collected works.
After an opening section in praise of God, the author introduces the tradition, "When a son of Adam dies, his activity ceases, except in three things; a permanent bequest, and knowledge by which men are benefited, and pious sons who invoke blessings on him after his death." Considering these words one day, and reflecting that none of the three conditions was applicable to himself, he became sorrowful,
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and continued for some time in a state of grief and depression. one, day while in this condition, he was visited by his friend Ahmad b. Mas`ûd, who inquired the cause of his sorrow. The author told him that, not fulfilling any one of the above conditions, he was afraid to die; possessing not one of these three advocates at court, he would stand without possessions or adornment in the Presence of the Unity. His friend then began to comfort him, saying, "First let me tell you a story." Sanâ'î replied, "Do so."
Ahmad b. Mas`ûd then related how one day a company of women wished to have audience with Fâtima, Muhammad's daughter. Muhammad gave permission; but Fâtima, weeping, said, "O Father, how long is it since I have had even a little shawl for my head? and that mantle that I had pieced together in so many places with date-leaves is in pledge with Simeon the Jew. How can I receive them?" But Muhammad said, "There is no help; you must go." Fâtima went ashamed to the interview, and came back in sorrow to her father; who was comforting her when the rustle of Gabriel's wings was heard. Gabriel looked at Fâtima and asked, "What is this sorrow? Ask the women, then, what garments they had on, and what thou." Muhammad sent a messenger to the women, who returned, and said, "It was so, at the time when the Mistress of Creation bestowed beauty on that assembly, that the onlookers were astounded; though clothed, they seemed to themselves naked; and among themselves they were asking 'Whence came this fine linen, and from which shop this embroidery? What skilful artificers, what nimble-fingered craftsmen!'" Fâtima said, "O my father, why didst thou not tell me, that I might have been glad?" He answered, "O dear one, thy beauty consisted in that which was concealed inside thyself."
"By my life," continued Ahmad, "such modesty was allowable in Fâtima, brought up in seclusion; but here we have a strong and able man of happy fortune, one who is known as a pattern to others in both practice and theory! Though thou hast considered thyself naked, yet they have clothed thee in a robe from the wardrobe of Eternity. Is it proper for this robe to be concealed, instead of being displayed for the enlightenment of others? " And adverting to the saying, "When a son of Adam dies, his work is cut short, except in three things," he takes the three one by one. First, a continuing
p. xxxii
alms; but 'Every kindness is an alms; and it is a kindness that thou meet thy brother with a cheerful countenance, and that thou empty thy bucket into the pots of thy brother;' that is, alms does not wholly consist in spreading food before a glutton, or giving some worthless thing to a pauper; it is a truer alms and a more imperishable hospitality to wear a cheerful countenance before one's friends, " and if others have the outward semblance of alms, thou hast its inward essence; and if they have set forth a table of food before men, thou hast set forth a table of life before their souls; so much for what thou sayest, 'I am excluded from a continuing alms!'"
Ahmad b. Mas`ûd then takes up the second point, knowledge that benefits; and quotes, "We take refuge with God from knowledge which does not benefit" and "Many a wise man is destroyed by his ignorance and his knowledge which does not advantage him." As examples of knowledge that does not benefit he takes the science of metaphysics, a science tied by the leg to desire and notoriety, lying under the opprobrium of "He who learns the science of metaphysics is a heretic, and flys in circles in the air;" as well as of the saying "A science newly born, weak in its credentials"--"I have perfected it for the sake of heresy, and so peace." Then similarly the science of calculation, a veil which diverts attention from the Truth, a curtain in front of the subtilties of religion; and the science of the stars, a science of conjectures and the seed of irreligion, for "Whoso credits a soothsayer has become an infidel." After a tirade against the ordinary type of learned man, he proceeds, "All their falsifyings and terrorizings and imaginings and conjecturings are limited by their own defects; that philosophy of the law is cherished which is notorious over all the quarters and regions of the world; there is your 'knowledge that men benefit by'! From earth to Pleiades who is there sees any benefit in our doctors?" He then tells Sanâ'î that he is master of a more excellent wisdom; "the poets are the chiefs of speech;" "the gift of the poets comes from the piety of the parents;" "verily from poetry comes wisdom;" and will have none of such sayings as "poetry is of the affairs of Satan."
As to the third part of the tradition, and pious descendants to invoke blessings on him after his death, Ahmad says, "The sons which suffice are thy sons; what son born in the way of generation
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and begetting is dearer than thy sons, or more honoured? Who has ever seen children like thine, all safe from the vicissitudes of time? The sons of poets are the poets' words, as a former master has said--

'A learned man never desires son or wife
Should the offspring of both these fail, the scholar's offspring would not be cut off.'
A son according to the flesh may be a defilement to a family; but the son of intelligence and wisdom is an ornament to the household. These sons of yours you cannot disown."
He then asks Sanâ'î why he has thus become a recluse, and indolent and languid. This languidness is indeed preferable to a total heedlessness and forgetfulness of God, though Mutanabbi has said--

"I have not seen anything of the faults of men like the failure of those who are able to reach the end."He asks Sanâ'î not to bring forward the saying, "Laziness is sweeter than honey," but to bestir himself and collect and complete his poetical works.
Sanâ'î tells us that he submitted himself to the advice of his friend, but brought forward the difficulties of house and food, since the work could not be performed friendless and homeless. Ahmad b. Mas`ûd thereupon built him a house, gave him an allowance for his maintenance for one year, and sent also a supply of clothing. He was therefore enabled to complete and arrange his writing's free from all care and anxiety. The preface ends with the praise of his generous friend.
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