The Sacred Knowledge (III)

excerpts from The Sacred Knowledge, by Shah Waliullah of Delhi (d. 1762);
translated & edited by G.N. Jalbani and David Pendlebury (Octagon Press 1982)


  The Manifest Faculties



We shall now discuss the purification of the manifest faculties according to the requirements of practical wisdom.



The human faculty may be subdivided into three branches: the heart, the self and the intellect:


... desire and the pursuit of pleasure are the attributes of the self.


Forming the intention to carry out a particular action, entertaining feelings of love and hatred, showing courage or cowardice, etc-- these are the characteristics of the heart.


Understanding and knowledge and the capacity to decide what has to be decided-- these are the qualities which are attributed to the intellect.


The faculties of the rational soul have been divided by the wise into three cateogries: natural faculties, animal faculties, and intelligent faculties. These have been located respectively in the liver, the physical heart and the brain.


..................


The basic function of the self is to look after the carnal needs and to
pursue whatever is pleasurable. In addition, it has to maintain the
constitution of the body in accordance with the latter's requirements. And
it has to repell what the body by its nature requires to be repelled. Hunger
and thirst, fatigue and pain, the sexual urge, excretory needs , all of
these are connected with the self and form the absolute necessities for the continuance of life. However, by dint of hard exercise, the nature of the self can be changed and it can be extricated from its own inherent constitution.



The function of the heart is to show anger, shame, fear, courage,
generosity, avarice and hatred. Everyone knows for certain why he dislikes a particular thing, and why his heart all but bursts with the particular  desire to repell it, and why his spirits seem almost on the point of leaving his body, and why his veins dilate and his skin becomes red. Similarly, in times of fear, he knows why his heart trembles and his spirits seem to retreat within his body and why his face becomes pale and his mouth goes dry. It is in this way that the characteristics of the heart may be assessed.



The function of the intellect is to recollect the things of the past and
plan for things of the future.



Each one of us personally experiences all of these realities. In one sense
these three categories are separate from each other, while in another sense they are united together. The cause of their differentiation is the fact that the rational soul which has penetrated the airy and the natural souls at one and the same time, both directs and depends on them. These souls have different locations, constitutions and faculties.




Basic Human Types



There is a type of man whose natural powers-- his digestion, his power to
catch and hold, his sexual energy-- are all extremly strong. but as far as
the qualities of the heart and the perceptiveness of the intellect are
concerned, he is nothing but a dull minded idiot. Anger, courage, fear and
shame are slow to appear in him and disappear in no time. His recollection of the past is extremely feeble, as is his capacity to plan for the future and decide what is good or bad. Such a person may be likened to the vegetables.



Then there is the man of courage and zeal, generosity and authority, and in these qualities he surpasses his fellows, but in his natural and intellectual powers, he hardly possesses a tenth of what others possess. He is like the stable animals and the wild beasts.


Again there is the type of man who distinguishes from those around him by
his capacity to retain what he has heard and his ability to adopt the right
course. But he has no share whatsoever in the natural energies of those of the heart , hence he is comparable to the lower angels.



When we examine the condition of various individuals , we find that they
are deficient in certain types of energy and strong in others. The different
locations of these energies, and the varying forms of disorder to which
different individuals are subject, lead necessarily to the conclusion that
there are different kinds of energy.



We have already discussed the cause of their differentiation; the cause of
their unity lies in the fact that, although the rational soul directs these various categories, it is itself fundmanetally a single undivided entity. These three types of energy are like fountains, gushing forth from a single source, or streams belonging to a single river. However , the action of one would not be complete without the support of the others.



Unless the self obeys the heart, the veins of the throat will not swell, nor will the spirits be aroused. And unless the intellect displays to the heart the image of some threat, hatred and the desire for revenge cannot arise.



Similarly, knowledge which is not accompanied by the firm intention of the heart can simply be called talking to onself. If a mental perception lacks the conviction which sense perceptions can lend to it, it is bound to be lame and distorted. Likewise, the self without the suppoirt of the intellect or the heart is as helpless as a three month old baby. Such a person is unable to muster confidence, firmness and strength from within himself.


And so, in order to effect a combination of these disparate yet unified
parts, a sort of lymphatic system extends between them and links them all
together , with the result that each one communicates its influence to the
other. In this way a whole variety of charcteristics and qualities are
created.



A full exposition of this point would call for a major elaboration. However,
the following considerations are all that is necessary for the purposes of
this present discourse.



If both the heart and the intellect are subservient to the self , then a
great many vices will result. The self in that state is generally known as
the animal self. Such acts, for example, as indulging sexual pleasures,
gazing at and caressing one's beloved, cause the heart to follow suit; they
arise an inclination for the loved on and fill the heart with love. At the
same time they compell the intellect to summon up the image and memory of the beloved and to find ways and means to affect a union. All of this is called love.


In the same way , indulgence in delicous food and drink causes the heart and intellect to follow suit.



With a little attention, such patterns are easily recognized.


If both the self and the intellect happen to obey the heart, a number of
different vices will appear. The self in that condition is called the
aggressive self. Besides violent anger, a whole array of other vices arise in the aggressive self.



For example, if the heart has an underlying spirit which is coarse without
being evil then the man possessing such a heart will seek to dominate those around him. This characteristic is innate in the heart which is why the self lends its support. In an activity such as wrestling, it summons up fresh strength and rouses the man's inborn spirits to lend assistance.




Supposing it is necessary to abstain for a period from eating or drinking or marriage, the heart rasies no objections and does not rise in revolt. The intellect, too, shares in the action of the heart, and for its sake, hits on many an elegant strategem and plan for the future.



If both the heart and the self are governed by the intellect, then praiseworthy qualities will result. The self in this condition is known as the serene self.



For instance, when a man comes to realize through his intellect that his
happiness lies in performing good actions while bad actions will only bring
him misery, then his self no longer goes against or objects to the command of the intellect and his heart to begins to show love and desire for what reason requires.



It often happens that a man of abundant intellect thinks of some
desirable wordly or religious objective. Then, however much his heart may
dislike certain aspects of it, and even though sweet pleasures may meanwhile be slipping through his hands, still his heart and self do not disobey his intellect.



There is a type of man who is so strong in his heart that when he beomes
angry or jealous, or is overtaken by worry or shame, his self ceases to
function. He feels neither hunger nor thirst, and lacks even the strength to
digest and evacuate, no matter how much his intellect may chide him and
tell him thate there is no point in showing anger or worrying, it is impossible
for him to escape the dictates of his heart.



Then there is the type of man whose self is strong and who is given over to sexual indulgence and eating delicious food. Even though the fear of punishment meted out for such action may occur to him and his intellect may vividly portray the abuse, humilation and hatred which await him, he is just like a male ass falling upon a female, or one that is bent on fodder; and he takes no account of lash or cudgel, so engrossed is he in what he is doing.


All of which makes people of sense realize that every part is busy
dominating as well as supporting the other.



The intellect may occasionally understand the baseness of the action and
its evil consequences but it cannot put its orders into effect. Sometimes
the intellect may absorb knowledge calculated to further the drive for
conquest. To this end it then begins to think out beneficial contingencies
and effective plans, thus retreating from its former convictions. This is a
vice which is extremely hard to eradicate.



It sometimes happen that the heart is filled with desire for a sweetheart,
and yet the necessary sexual energy is lacking. Or the heart may be filled
with contemptuous and vengeful thoughts, and yet the arm is bereft of all
strength. Occasionally in such cases, the self comes to the aid of the heart and pours in renewed vigor which was lacking before. This vice is also extremely difficult to eradicate and avoid.



Such characteristics as these are like natural bodily needs whose total
eradication is absolutely impossible.... they may be temporarily concealed
while severe excercises are being performed; but no sooner are these
exercises discontinued than they appear once more. ...




... the purification of these characteristics can only consist in this: that
one uses them in their proper place, contenting onself with what is
necessary and avoiding excess.

 

from The Altaf al-Quds of Shah Waliullah

Shah Waliullah of Delhi

TRANSLATED BY G. N. JALBANI
REVISED AND EDITED BY David Pendlebury

The Sacred Knowledge is regarded as a fundamental text in both East and West by students of Sufi thought. Through Professor Jalbani’s rendering, the book shows how the 18th century mystic of Delhi discharged his task. In Waliullah’s own words, ‘The purpose behind writing this discourse is that only those problems pertaining to perception and the mystical unveiling are mentioned.’

The Sacred Knowledge (II)

excerpts from The Sacred Knowledge, by Shah Waliullah of Delhi (d. 1762);
translated & edited by G.N. Jalbani and David Pendlebury (Octagon Press 1982)


In trying to understand the various parts of the soul , it is important also 
to realize that every part has its own separate properties. In addition to 
this, each combination of parts has further distinct properties of its own. 
The soul of man is governed by these properties, both in this life and the 
life to come. 

The characteristic property of the airy soul is to reside in 
the material world and gather sustenance from the elements.

The airy soul is found in one of the following three states: 

First it may be ruled and driven by the limbs and organs of the body. Here 
it functions in a manner which accords entirely with their nature and 
conditioning; and it is completely submerged in them. The soul in this state 
is known as the animal soul.


Alternatively, it may avoid total submersion in the characteristics of the 
limbs and organs and come instead under the influence of those 
characteristics which are connected with the heart and the brain. It may 
either be that the limbs and organs fulfill and complete these latter 
characteristics, and are in fact a precondition of them; or else it may be 
that these characteristics are complete in themselves and that the actions 
of the limbs and organs are merely their necessary expression . In either 
case the soul in question is known as the human soul.


Thirdly, there are a number of means whereby the airy soul may be brought 
under control and subjection , in which case it becomes the angelic soul . 
The characteristic property of this soul is that it remains in the presence 
of the holy spirit which is established in the heavenly fold. The angelic 
soul maintains this link at all times and is firmly established in the 
exalted assembly, where it may effectively express itself according to its 
capacity. 

It is as a result of this that the Mysterious and Secret intimations of celestial souls are disclosed within the heart of man. In fact, the whole basis of the reward of the next world lies in the attraction which this part of the soul feels toward the heavenly fold. If within the airy soul there are attributes which are suited to that place, then the individual will find ease and comfort there. But if there are attributes  which bear no resemblance to that place, then he will be overwhelmed by fear and shame.

An analogy for the close bond between this airy soul and the sublime soul would be the fusion in quick silver of the properties of metal and liquid which are bound together in a knot so tight as to be impossible to unite. It is still possible nonetheless to discern the flow of the liquid in the mass of the metal. Similarly, the sublime soul and the airy soul are so strongly bonded that it is extremely difficult to separate one from the other.  Wherever one of them is drawn the other is inevitable drawn . Wherever one of them experiences pleasure or pain, so also in consequence does the other.

The characteristic property of the rational soul in relation to the airy 
soul is to combine and integrate the various parts of the latter-- just as 
we found in the case of the vegetable soul which lends a particular shape to 
the tree and closely combines them in such a way that even if the tree were 
to be severed from its roots it would take a long time for the component 
parts to separate once more.




In the same way, the rational soul connects up the various component parts 
of the airy soul into a single constitution . Now, if the airy soul should 
be cut off by death from this body of flesh and blood and the system of 
nutrition and procreation should thus break down completely, the airy soul 
still survives-- as long as the rational soul remains intact to manage it.



 In fact, the airy soul comprises a number of faculties which remain 
intact, the volition and the imaginative and retentive faculties. In the 
same way , firmly established characteristics , as well as constantly renewed 
intentions , persist unimpaired in their original condition. The eyes and 
the ears may be lost, but the common sense is there to do their work.




 During his long sojourn in the world, man uses his ears and eyes for 
perception and becomes thoroughly accustomed to this state of affairs. But 
after he has become separated from these organs, the common sense begins to 
serve the purpose of both ears and eyes--- either by virtue of the rational 
soul , or else due to the universal expediency which can supersede an
individuals particular objectives. The merest attention from the source of 
all bounty is sufficient to cause visible and audible forms to flow into it; 
just as when a man considers a set of premises a logical deduction flows into 
his faculty of understanding.


 The fundamental function of the rational soul is to lose itself in the 
universal soul and by a process of osmosis receive the impulse of the 
Greater Selfhood. Through the intermediary of the angelic soul it is able
to receive the inspiration of the angels and experience the vision of the heavenly fold. If a man's airy soul becomes the subject to his angelic soul. Then he becomes like one of the exalted assembly, or one of the angels of the lower assembly.

It is in the combinations between the airy soul and the two subtler parts
(the rational and angelic souls) that the 5 higher faculties are created. The secret circumstances of their birth are these:


Since both rational and angelic souls rely for their subsistence on the airy 
soul, they both bring their love and affection to bear on it. As a result, 
in the process of diversifying the faculties of the airy soul, the abundant 
grace of the subtler parts is in its turn further enhanced.


The faculty which has its basis in the liver is known as the carnal self;


The faculty which has its basis in the physical heart and which is the 
bearer of the individuals qualities is in fact called the heart;


While the faculty whose basis is in the brain and whose characteristic 
property is to apprehend concepts, whether imaginary or objectively real, is 
known as the intellect.


The self, the heart and the intellect all reside in the airy soul. However, 
the latter receives the enhancement of the two subtle parts just as the 
ground near to a spring receives its freshness and moisture-- or just as the 
body receives refreshment from the liver by means of the lymphatic system.


 Although each one of these faculties is originally created from all three 
parts, the self has an affinity with the airy soul, the intellect with the 
heavenly [angelic] soul, and the heart with the rational soul. This is why the 
ancients described the heart as the human faculty and called the intellect 
the tongue of the soul.


 When the seeker gains some freedom from the domination of the airy soul, he 
then has to do deal with the two subtler parts. At this stage his heart 
becomes his spirit and his intellect becomes his Secret faculty.


 The difference between the heart and the spirit is this: the heart is a function 
of the airy soul which has arisen from the depths of the physical body; but 
it is governed by the grace of the two subtle parts and is permeated by 
them. By spirit, we mean that the two subtle parts, intimately united, have 
clothed themselves in the finest garb of the airy soul on which they totally 
depend.


 The difference between the intellect and the secret faculty is that the 
former is a function of the airy soul; its location is in the brain, but it 
is governed by the grace of the two subtle parts and permeated by them. By 
Secret faculty we mean that the two subtle parts are bounded tightly 
together and dressed in the finest garment of the airy soul on which they 
depend.


 For this reason, the spirit is subtler than the heart, and the secret is 
brighter than the intellect.


The function of the heart is to experience love and longing, while that of 
the spirit is to experience intimacy.


 The function of the intellect is to gain certitude, while that of the Secret 
is to attain beatific vision.


 However, there are many gradations.


 When the seeker has become completely free of the airy soul, he has to 
deal with the two subtle parts which are as intimately conjoined as the 
liquid and metallic and properties of quicksilver.


 At this point the seekers state will come under one of the following headings:


 The angelic soul may exert its attraction, in which case the seeker will lose himself in the holy spirit and pass through annihilation in it to permanence and 
recollection of himself. This is the Prophetic inheritance.


Alternatively, the rational soul may exert its attraction, and then the 
seeker will be annihilated in the Greater Selfhood, attain permanence, and 
come to himself again. This is the stage of Major Sainthood.


Thirdly, the seeker may attain a balanced combination of both these stages. 
This stage is known as Union of Union. There are two ways in which the 
person who attains to this stage may be remembered. Sometimes he is 
remembered from the standpoint of the universal soul; and the impulse of the 
Greater Selfhood descends and permeates him. At other times he is remembered 
from the standpoint of the holy spirit, and the impulses of the exalted 
assembly descend into him by a a process analogous to osmosis....


Shah Waliullah of Delhi
A GREAT RELIGIOUS teacher of the 18th century, Shah Waliullah of Delhi distinguished himself as a major thinker from the age of fifteen. He returned to the essentials of Sufi experience in order to show that essentially Sufism is one discipline. Shah Waliullah is considered to be the bridge between the medieval and the modern in Islamic thought.

The Sacred Knowledge (I)

excerpts from The Sacred Knowledge, by Shah Waliullah of Delhi (d. 1762); translated & edited by G.N. Jalbani and David Pendlebury (Octagon Press 1982)


The Sacred Knowledge of the Higher Functions of the Mind ... concerned with investigating the real nature of the following:

The Heart
The Intellect
The Self
The Spirit
The Secret
The Concealed
The Deeply Concealed
The Pure Intellect
The Ego

In addition, the correct method of refining each of the above is suggested.


.........

In many disciples, one faculty is by nature very strong, while the others
happen to be very weak. Now if such people blindly begin to carry out
exercises with the object of training and refining all the faculties
simultaneously, then an extremely long time will be required even for the
dominant faculty to be purified, regain strength, come to the boil, and show
manifest signs of its purification, thus enabling the seeker to reach the
desired stage.


But if the seeker were to strengthen the faculty which is
innately strong and purify the others only summarily, then the objective
could very quickly be achieved and he would the reach the desired stage
without delay.

The final goal, which is reached after passing through a number of stages
and undergoing a number of annihilations, is in fact attained thanks to the
faculty which is by nature very strong.

..............

The Nature of the Soul:

The exposition of the true nature and properties of the higher faculties
depends in turn on an understanding of the true nature of the soul. The
latter question belongs to the science of Reality [mysticism] rather than to
the science of behavior [the Law].

.....

By soul we mean that entity which, when it is associated with the body, is
the source of the latter's life, and when divorced from it is the cause of
its death.


Let us consider the real nature of the soul. It should be borne in mind that
it is composed of three parts.

First, there is the subtle substance arising from the fine vapors of the
various elements in digested food. It possesses the capacity for nutrition,
growth and sense perception. This is refered to as the breathing soul, the
natural soul, or the airy body. It permeates flesh and bones like the fire
in charcoal or the scent in a rose. It is by virtue of this part that the
soul is connected to the body. Just as the body tastes death when separated from the soul, the latter suffers a similar agony when separated from the body.

The original source of this subtle vapor is in the heart, brain and liver.
It arises from the agitation of the blood in the heart. Physicians observe
it when the blood becomes thick or thin, pure or impure, and increases or
decreases. Through experimentation they have discovered the effects of
these various states and proceed with treatment accordingly. Should the
connection be interrupted, death ensues. The dead man is then like a tree
which has been cut off from its roots: the systems of nutrition and renewal
have been destroyed. However, the dried body of the tree takes a long time to disintegrate and decompose. Similarly, the connection between the rational soul and this subtle vapor remains intact even after death, with the latter persisting unimpaired in the form of the physical body. With the passage of time, however, it begins to disintegrate little by little.

......

The Rational Soul

... when the male semen and female ovulation combine in the soul, then
the woman's soul begins to work on the mixture, until eventually the various organs, the heart, liver and brain, come into being, and finally the airy soul is breathed into it...  there are both visible and invisible processes at work...

There is a soul governing the human order which gives rise to such attributes in man as a universal outlook and the five faculties with all their ramifications. This is known as the rational soul.

Each individual soul-- and indeed, every soul in general-- is merely a
bubble on the ocean of the Universal Soul.... people of intuition have come
to realize that there is one soul in the universe which is absolute ruler of
all the universe comprises. Every single process in heaven and earth
takes place according to the requirements of that soul, which is known as
the universal soul. Seen in the perspective of the specific actions which it
initiates, it is called Universal Nature, and the organic structure which
this soul requires for itself is called the Universal Expediency .

The various elemental, vegetable, animal and cosmic souls in the universe
are all like the constituent organs and members of the body. All are
subsumed in one collective soul; all are subject to a single plan . It is
that very soul which is both manifest and hidden in all the multifarious
forms and states of creation. Gas becomes liquid, liquid becomes gas: in
either case the universal soul remains intact. It is merely that in one
state it is hidden while in the other it manifests itself.

This universal soul is the fundamental reality of the rational soul.
When conditions permit-- and indeed require it-- the rational soul and its individual manifestation firmly attaches itself to the universal soul. Then, as a result of losing itself in the universal soul, the rational soul achieves the annihilation of its spiritual existence.

The Angelic Soul

The third part is the angelic soul. Inherent in the universal soul are
faculties able to contain the form of everything that is to be, even before it actually comes into existence. This is just like the human capacity to visualize a desired action in the mind before that action is made manifest in the external world. In a sense, the square which exists in our mind is the same as the one which comes into existence in the outside world.

Similarly, it can be said that the form which lies hidden in the faculties of the universal soul is precisely the same form as that which is now to be
seen in the world of phenomena. Thus, long before the actual creation of
humanity, when god conceived the intention to create the human race, he
conceived the generalized form of the human species within the faculties of the universal soul. After the lapse of a lengthy period of time, that generalized form received fresh enhancement from the source of divine bounty ; in consequence of which that single form appeared in a multiplicty of forms . For the sake of analogy , let us suppose that the sun is reflected in a mirror, and that round that mirror a whole variety of mirrors of every size and color are placed. Clearly, the form of the sun will be reflected in each one of them. Thus, in one sense, all those forms have an independent existence, while in another sense, they all partake of existence solely by virture of the generalized form: for had it not been there neither would they have been.

We may thus compare each one of these reflective forms to the soul of a
single individual. And so much later, as a result of further enhancement, the archetypal form descends into lower levels of energies. When the airy soul is breathed into the human body, the universal soul disappears in one aspect, only to reappear in another, more limited aspect, which receives the name of 'rational soul'.

The two aspects are intimately united-- in the same way that a physical,
rectangular body is united with the conceptualized form of a rectangular
body. It is on account of [the angelic soul] that a man is able to be
present in the heavenly fold of the world to come and his deeds are
registered in the heavenly records. ...

In the next world, the body and its parallel form are united. One's bodily
form will clearly proclaim the record of one's deeds ...

The Uncanny

THE SUFI SAINTSHIP


Certain attributes which Lesser and Greater Saintship
provide for the Sufi can be judged from the incident related
regarding Sheikh Shahabuddin, but although these powers
could be manifested after long and protracted Meditation, cases
are frequently recorded in Sufi history where actual
transportation and what is generally called the 'Spiritual Flight'
have been performed by the Sufis. The following incident,
however, is well known:


The Sultan of Egypt, having heard of the powers of
Karamat (spiritual flight) of a Sufi, summoned all the learned
men of his kingdom to meet on a certain day in his palace,
when there arose a dispute among them. It is said that the angel
Gabriel, having one night taken Muhammed out of his bed,
showed him whatever is in the seven heavens, in Paradise and
in Hell, and that the same great Prophet after having had
fourscore and ten thousand conferences with God, was brought
back again into his bed by the same angel.


Some of the doctors advanced that all was done in so short
a space of time that Muhammed, on his return, found his bed
still warm, and that he took up a pot of water which was not yet
run out although the pot had been thrown down the very moment
the angel Gabriel carried Muhammed out of his chamber.
The Sultan who presided in this assembly maintained that
this was impossible.


‘You teach,’ said he, ‘that there are seven heavens, between
each of which there is no less a distance than a man can well
travel in five hundred years, and that each heaven is as thick
as it is distant from the next to it. How then is it possible that
Muhammed, having passed through all these heavens, and
having had fourscore and ten thousand conferences with God,
should at his return find his bed still warm, his pot thrown
down and the water that was in it not spilt? Who can be
credulous enough to believe so ridiculous a fable. Do you not
know that if you throw down a pot full of water, though you
take it up again in a moment, you will find no water in it?’


The learned men answered that this indeed could not
naturally be, but that all things were possible to the Divine
Power. The Sultan of Egypt who was of an obstinate temper,
and had made it a maxim never to believe anything contrary
to reason, would not give credit to this miracle, and the learned
men broke up their assembly.


This dispute made a great noise in Egypt and the news of
it came to the ears of the learned Sheikh Shahabuddin who, for
some reasons not set down in the history, could not be present
at the assembly. However, he went to the Sultan’s Palace in the
midst of all the heat of the day.


The Sultan, informed of the doctor’s visit to the Court,
went to him, carried him into a stately chamber where, after
having made him sit down, he spoke to him in this manner:
'You need not have given yourself the trouble of coming hither,
it would have been enough to have sent one of your servants
for we should willingly have granted him anything he had
asked us in your name.’


' Sir,’ answered the doctor, 'I am come on purpose to have
a moment’s conversation with your Majesty.’ The Sultan, who
knew the Sheikh was famed for behaving himself haughtily in
the presence of Princes, showed him many civilities and made
him abundance of compliments.


The room they were in had four windows, on each side
one. The doctor desired the King to order one of them to be
shut. This being done they continued for some time their
conversation, after which the doctor made one of the windows,
which had the prospect of a mountain called Kzeldaghi—Red
Mountain—be opened and then did the King look out. The
Sultan put his head to the window, and saw on the mountain
and in the plain, a body of horses, more in number than the
stars of heaven, armed with bucklers and coats of mail, with
their swords drawn advancing full speed towards the Palace.


At this sight the Prince changed colour and in great
dismay cried out: 'O heaven! What dreadful army is this that is
coming to attack my Palace?'


'Be not afraid, sir,’ said the doctor, ' there is nothing in it.’


In saying this he shut the window himself and opened it again
the same moment; the King looked out but saw not one single
person on the mountain or in the plain.


Another of the windows had the prospect of the city and
the doctor made that be opened. The Sultan saw the city of
Cairo all on fire and the flames ascended even to middle
region of the air.

 ‘What dreadful burning is that?' exclaimed
the King, 'See there my city, my fine city of Cairo reduced to
ashes.’


'Be not afraid, sir,’ said the Sheikh, 'there is nothing in it.’


At the same time he shut the window and when he had opened
it again the King saw no more the flames he had seen before.
The doctor made the third window be opened, out of
which the Sultan perceived the Nile overflowing its banks, and
its waves rolling with fury to drown his palace. Now, though
the King, after having seen the army and the flames disappear,
had no reason to be terrified at this new prodigy yet he could
not help being dismayed at it. 'Alas!' cried he once more, 'all is
lost; we are now undone indeed! This dreadful inundation will
bear away my palace and drown me and all my people.’


'Be not afraid, sir,’ said the doctor, 'there is nothing in it.’
And indeed the Sheikh had no sooner shut and opened the
window again than the Nile appeared pursuing its course
within its banks, as usual.


He then made them open the fourth window which
looked on to a parched barren desert. The other wonders had
not more terrified the King than this delighted him. His eyes,
which were accustomed to see nothing from this window but
a barren waste, were agreeably surprised to behold Vineyards
and Gardens hung with the most delicious fruits in the universe,
rivulets that gently murmured as they glided, and whose banks
were adorned with roses, basils, balms, narcissuses and
hyacinths, at once presented a pleasing object to the sight and
charmed with the smell of a variety of fragrant odours. Among
these flowers were hopping up and down an infinite number
of turtles and nightingales, some of which were already fallen
in a trance with overstraining their little throats, while the others
made the air resound with their sweet and mournful songs.


The King was so charmed with all the wonders which
now offered themselves to his sight that he believed he beheld
the garden of Eden. 'What a change is this,’ cried he in the excess
of his admiration, 'O the beautiful garden! The charming abode!


'Be not so transported, sir,’ said the Sheikh, 'there is nothing in
it.’ At these words the doctor shut the window and then opened
it again, and the Sultan, instead of seeing those delightful
phantoms, saw nothing but the desert.


'Sir,’ said the Sheikh, 'I have shown you a great many
wonders but all this is nothing in comparison with the
astonishing prodigy of which I will make your majesty a
witness. Give your commands for a tub full of water to be
brought hither.’ The King ordered it to be done and when the
tub was brought into the chamber the doctor said to the Sultan,
'Be pleased to suffer yourself to be stripped stark naked and let
a towel be girt about your loins.’ The King consented to have
all his clothes taken off, and when the towel was girt about
him, 'Sir,’ said the Sheikh, 'be pleased to plunge your head into
the water, and draw it out again.’


The King plunged his head into the tub and in an instant
found himself at the foot of a mountain on the seashore. This
unheard-of prodigy astonished him more than the others.
'Ah, doctor!' cried he in a transport of rage, 'perfidious
doctor, that has thus cruelly deceived me! If ever I return into
Egypt from whence thou hast forced me away by thy black
and detestable art, I swear I will revenge myself of thee! O
mayest thou miserably perish!'


He continued his imprecations against the Sheikh, but
reflecting that his menaces and complaints would avail him
nothing, he took courage and went to some men whom he saw
cutting wood on the mountain, resolved not to discover to them
who he was; for, thought he to himself, if I tell them I am a king
they will not believe me but rather take me for an impostor or
a madman.


The woodcutter asked him who he was.


'Good people,’ answered he, 'I am a merchant, my ship
bilged on a rock and was dashed to pieces. I have had the good
fortune to save myself on a plank: you see the condition I am
in which ought to excite your pity.’


They were concerned for his misfortune but the poorness
of their circumstances would not allow them to relieve him.
However, one of them gave him an old gown, and another an
old pair of shoes, and when they had put him in this condition,
scarcely fit to be seen, they conducted him into their city which
was situated behind the mountain. They no sooner arrived there
than they took leave of him and, abandoning him to Providence,
went away, each to his own home.


The Sultan was left alone, and though men take delight
in seeing objects that are new to them, yet he was too much
taken up with the thoughts of his adventure to give attention
to anything he saw. He walked up and down the streets, not
knowing what would become of him. He was already weary
and looking for a place to lie down and rest himself, stopped
before the house of an old farrier, who, judging by his looks
that he was fatigued, desired him to come in.


The King did so, and set himself down on a bench that
was near the door. 'Young man,’ said the old farrier, 'may I ask
you what profession you follow and what has brought you
hither?' The Sultan gave him the same answer he had given to
the woodcutters. 'I met,’ added he, 'with some good people
who were cutting wood on the mountain and having told them
my misfortunes, they were so kind as to give me this old gown
and these cobbled shoes.’


'I am glad,’ said the farrier, 'that you escaped being
drowned, comfort yourself for the loss of your goods. You are
young and will not perhaps be unhappy in this city where our
laws and customs are very favourable to strangers who come
to settle among us. Do you not intend to do so?'


'I desire nothing better,’ answered the Sultan,' provided I
could have any prospect of retrieving my affairs.’


'Well, then,’ replied the old man, 'follow the advice I am
about to give you. Go this moment to the public baths of the
women, set yourself down at the gate and ask each lady who
comes out if she has a husband. She that shall answer you No,
must be your wife, according to the custom of this country.’


The Sultan being determined to follow this advice bade
farewell to the old man, and went to the gate of the baths, where
he set himself down. It was not long ere he saw coming out a
lady of ravishing beauty. Ah! how happy shall I be, thought
he, if this lovely person be not married. Were she but mine I
could forget all my misfortunes.’


He stopped her and said, ' Fair lady, have you a husband?'
She answered, ' Yes, I have.’


'I am sorry for it,’ replied the King, ' you would have made
a fit wife for me.’


The lady went her way and soon after out came another
who was frightfully ugly. The Sultan shuddered at the sight of
her. 'What a piece of deformity is this!' said he. 'I had rather be
starved to death than live with such a creature; I will let her
pass without asking her if she be married, for fear I should
hear she is not.


Nevertheless, the old farrier bid me ask this question of
every one of the ladies. In all appearance the custom is so, and
I must submit to it. How do I know that she has a husband.
Some unfortunate stranger whose ill destiny has brought him
hither, as mine has me, may perhaps have married her.’
In short, the King resolved to ask her if she was married:
she answered, 'Yes,’ and this answer pleased him as much as
that of the first lady had troubled him.


There next came out a third lady, as ugly as the other. 'O
heavens!' said the King as soon as he saw her, 'this is more
horrible than the last. No matter! Since I have begun I must go
through with it. If she has a husband I must own there are men
more to be pitied than myself.’ As she was going by him, he
addressed himself to her and tremblingly said, 'Fair lady, are
you married?'


'Yes, young man,’ answered she without stopping. 'I am
glad of it,’ replied the Sultan. 'I bless my stars,’ continued he,
'that I have got free of these two women. But it is not yet time
to rejoice. All the ladies have not come out of the baths, nor
have I yet seen her that is destined for me. Perhaps I shall get
nothing by the change.’


He was expecting to see one as ugly as the other two,
when a fourth appeared, who surpassed in beauty the first he
thought so charming. What a difference, thought he, there is
not so much disparity between day and night as between this
fair person and the two last who came out before her! Are angels
and devils to be seen in the same place?


He advanced to her with a deal of eagerness. 'Lovely lady,’
said he, 'have you a husband?'


She answered 'No,’ looking on him with as much disdain
as attention. Then she went away leaving the King in a deep
surprise.


'What am I to think of this?' said he. 'The old farrier has
certainly put upon me. If according to the laws of this country
I am to marry this lady, why did she leave me in so rude a
manner ? Why put she on that haughty and disdainful air? She
viewed me from head to foot, and I saw in her looks the marks
of contempt and scorn. The truth is she is not much in the
wrong. In justice I cannot blame her. This threadbare gown,
full of holes, sets not off my good mien to the best advantage
and is not proper to engage a lady’s heart. I forgive her for
thinking she may chance to mend herself in a husband.’


While he was making reflections a slave accosted him.
'Sir,’ he said, ‘I am sent to find a stranger all in tatters, and by
your air methinks it is you. If you will please give yourself the
trouble of following me I will lead you to a place where you
are expected with great impatience.’


The Sultan followed the slave who led him to a great
house, and showed him into an apartment very handsomely
furnished, where he bid him wait a moment. The Sultan stayed
fully two hours without seeing a soul but the slave, who ever
and anon came and desired him not to be impatient.


At length, there came in four ladies very well dressed,
who accompanied another that glittered all over with jewels,
but was yet more resplendent by her matchless beauty. The
Sultan cast his eyes upon her and immediately knew her to be
the last lady whom he had seen oming from the baths. She
drew near him with a soft and smiling air. 'Forgive me, sir,’ she
said, 'for having made you wait a little. I was loath to appear in
my undress before my lord and master. You are in your own
house; all you see here belongs to you. You are my husband;
command me what you please and I am ready to obey you.’


'Madam,’ answered the Sultan, 'not a moment ago I
complained of my destiny, and now I am the happiest of men.
But since I am your husband, why did you just now look so
disdainfully upon me? I fancied you were shocked at the sight
of me and, to confess the truth, I could not blame you much.’


'Sir,’ replied the lady, 'I could not do otherwise; the ladies
of this city are obliged to carry themselves haughtily in public,
it is the custom, but to make amends they are very familiar in
private.’


'So much the better,’ replied the king, 'they are the more
agreeable. But since I am master here,’ continued he, 'to begin
to exercise my little sovereignty, let somebody go and fetch me
a tailor and a shoemaker, for I am ashamed to be seen in your
presence in this tattered gown and these cobbled shoes which
suit but ill with the rank I have hitherto held in the world.’


'I have taken care of that already,’ replied the lady. 'I have
sent a slave to a Jew who sells clothes ready made and who
will furnish you at once with all you want. Meanwhile, let us
refresh ourselves.’


 In saying this she took him by the hand and
led him into a hall where there was a table covered with all
sorts of fruits and all sweetmeats. They both sat down, and
while they were eating, the four attendant ladies who stood
behind them sang several songs, written by the poet Baba
Saoudai. They played also on several instruments and at length
their mistress took a lute and accompanying the music with
her voice acquitted herself so well that the Sultan was charmed
with her performance.


This concert was interrupted by the arrival of the Jewish
tradesman who came into the hall with some young men who
brought bundles of clothes of different colours. They looked at
them all, one after another, and made choice of a white satin
vest flowered with gold and a gown of purple cloth. The Jew
furnished them with the rest of the apparel and went his way.
Then the lady admired the good mien of the king; she was very
well satisfied to have found such a husband and he well pleased
to have met with so beautiful a wife.


He lived seven years with this lady, by whom he had seven
sons.


Both of them taking delight in an expensive way of life
and loving to feed high and divert themselves, they got the
better of the lady’s estate. They were obliged to put away their
waiting-ladies and to sell their household furniture, piece after
piece, for subsistence. The Sultan’s wife, seeing herself reduced
to great want, said to he husband, 'As long as my estate lasted,
you never spared it; you lived an idle life and enjoyed yourself.
It behoves you now to think of some way or other to maintain
your little family.’


These words saddened the king, who went to the old
farrier to ask his advice. 'O my father,’ said he, 'I am now in a
worse condition than when I first came to this city. I have a
wife and fourteen children, and nothing to keep them with.’


‘Young man,’ replied the aged farrier, 'were you not
brought up to some trade? 'The Sultan answered, 'No.’ The
farrier put his hand into his pocket, and taking out two aqichas,
gave them to the king, bidding him go immediately and buy
himself some ypes and wait in the place where the porters plied.
The king bought himself some ypes and went to ply among
them.


Scarce had he been there a moment when a man came
and asked him if he would carry a burden. 'I am here for that
purpose,’ answered the Sultan. Then the man loaded him with
a great sack which the king had much ado to carry, besides, the
cords wrung the skin off his shoulders. He received his hire
which consisted of one aqicha and carried it home. His wife,
seeing he brought no more money, told him that if he earned
not ten times as much every day, his whole family would soon
be starved to death.


The next morning the king, overwhelmed with grief,
instead of going to ply among the porters, went to the seaside,
reflecting on his miserable condition. He looked very earnestly
on the place where he had unexpectedly found himself by
means of the science of Sheikh Shahabuddin and, recalling to
mind that strange and fatal adventure, he could not refrain from
tears. Now the ceremony of ablution being indispensable before
prayers, he plunged himself into the sea, but as he raised his
head out of the water he was in the utmost astonishment to
find himself again in his own palace, in the middle of the tub,
and surrounded by all his officers.


'O barbarous doctor!' cried he, perceiving the Sheikh in
the same place where he had left him, dost thou not dread that
God will punish thee for having played this trick with thy
Sultan and thy master?'


'Sir,’ said the Sheikh, 'why is your majesty angry with
me? You but this moment plunged your head into this water. I
tell you nothing but truth; if you do not believe me, ask your
officers, who are eyewitnesses of it.’


'Yes, sir,’ cried all the officers with one voice, 'the doctor
says true.’


The king would not believe them. 'It is full seven years
that this cursed doctor has detained me in a foreign country by
the force of his enchantments. I was married and have got seven
daughters and as many sons, but it is not this I complain of, so
much as of my being a porter. Ah! villainous Sheikh! Couldst
thou be so cruel as to make me carry ypes?'


'Well, sir,’ replied the doctor, 'since you will give no credit
to my words, I will convince you by my actions.’


In saying this he stripped himself naked, tied a towel
round his loins, got into the tub and plunged his head into the
water. While his head was covered with the water, the Sultan,
who was still enraged against him and remembered how he
had sworn to punish him if he ever returned to Egypt, took a
sabre to cut off the doctor’s head the moment he raised it up
out of the tub, but the Sheikh, by the science called Mekashefa,
knew the king’s intention, and, by the science of Algaib-an
alabsar, disappeared all at once and was transported to the city
of Damascus, from whence he wrote to the Sultan of Egypt a
letter in these words:


'Know, O King, that you and I are both but poor servants
of God. During the time that you plunged your head in the
water, though you drew it out again in the same moment, you
made a journey of seven years, you married a wife, you
underwent many hardships, you got seven daughters and as
many sons; you laboured hard for a livelihood; and you will
not believe that our great prophet Muhammed found his bed
warm and his pot of water not empty.


Learn that nothing is impossible to him who, out of
nothing, created heaven and earth by the single word koun.’


-- a classic Sufi tale as told by Sirdar Ikbal Ali Shah, found in his books Islamic Sufism and The Golden Caravan (as 'The Uncanny Sheikh'.)