The Soofies.--Opinion of the Mussulmauns concerning Solomon.--The
Ood-ood.--Description of the Soofies and their sect.--Regarded with
great reverence.--Their protracted fasts.--Their opinion esteemed by
the Natives.--Instance of the truth of their predictions.--The Saalik
and Majoob Soofies.--The poets Haafiz and Saadie.--Character and
attainments of Saadie.--His 'Goolistaun'.--Anecdotes descriptive of
the origin of that work.--Farther remarks on the character and
history of Saadie.--Interesting anecdotes illustrative of his virtues
and the distinguishing characteristics of the Soofies.
The life of King Solomon, with all his acts, is the subject of many an
author's pen, both in the Arabic and Persian languages; consequently the
learned Mussulmauns of Hindoostaun are intimately acquainted with his
virtues, his talent, and the favour with which he was visited by the great
goodness of the Almighty. In the course of my sojourn amongst them, I have
heard many remarkable and some interesting anecdotes relating to Solomon,
which the learned men assure me are drawn from sources of unquestionable
authority.
They affirm that the wisdom of Solomon not only enabled him to search into
the most hidden thoughts of men, and to hold converse with them in their
respective languages, but that the gift extended even to the whole brute
creation; by which means he could hold unlimited converse, not only with
the animate, as birds, beasts, and fish, but with inanimate objects, as
shrubs, trees, and, indeed, the whole tribe of vegetable nature; and,
further, that he was permitted to discern and control aerial spirits, as
demons, genii, &c.
The pretty bird, known in India by the name of Ood-ood,[1] is much
regarded by the Mussulmauns, as by their tradition this bird was the
hurkaarah of King Solomon; and entrusted with his most important
commissions whenever he required intelligence to be conveyed to or from a
far distant place, because he could place greater confidence in the
veracity of this bird, and rely on more certain dispatch, than when
entrusting his commands to the most worthy of his men servants.
The ood-ood is beautifully formed, has a variegated plumage of black,
yellow, and white, with a high tuft of feathers on its head, through which
is a spear of long feathers protruding directly across the head for
several inches, and is of the woodpecker species. The princes, Nuwaubs,
and nobility of Hindoostaun, keep hurkaarahs for the purpose of conveying
and obtaining intelligence, who are distinguished by a short spear, with a
tuft of silk or worsted about the middle of the handle, and the tail of
the ood-ood in the front of their turban, to remind them of this bird,
which they are expected to imitate both in dispatch and fidelity. I am
told, these men (from their early training) are enabled to run from fifty
to sixty miles bare-footed, and return the same distance without halting
on the same day.
The religious devotees of the Mussulmaun persuasion, who are denominated
Soofies,[1] are conjectured, by many, to have a similar gift with Solomon
of understanding the thoughts of other men. By some it is imagined that
Solomon was the first Soofie; by others, that Ali, the husband of Fatima,
imparted the knowledge of that mystery which constitutes the real Soofie.
I am acquainted with some Natives who designate the Soofies 'Freemasons'
but I imagine this to be rather on account of both possessing a secret,
than for any similarity in other respects, between the two orders of
people.
My business, however, is to describe. The Soofies then are, as far as I
can comprehend, strictly religious men, who have forsaken entirely all
attachment to earthly things, in their adoration of the one supreme God.
They are sometimes found dwelling in the midst of a populous city, yet,
even there they are wholly detached from the world, in heart, soul, and
mind, exercising themselves in constant adoration of, and application to
God; occasionally shutting themselves up for several weeks together in a
hut of mud, thatched with coarse grass, with scarce sufficient provision
to support the smallest living animal, and water barely enough to moisten
their parched lips during the weeks thus devoted to solitary retirement
and prayer.
When these recluses can no longer support their self-inflicted privation,
they open the door of their hut, a signal anxiously watched for by such
persons as have a desire to meet the eye of the holy man, of whom they
would inquire on some (to them) interesting matter; probably regarding
their future prospects in the world, the cause of the ill-health and
prospects of recovery of a diseased member of their family, or any like
subject of interest to the inquirer.
The Soofie, I am told, does not approve of being thus teased by the
importunities of the thronging crowd, who beset his threshold the instant
his door is heard to open. Being weak in body, after the fatigue of a
protracted fast of weeks together, his replies to the questions (preferred
always with remarkable humility) are brief and prompt; and the Natives
assure me dependence may always be placed on the good Soofie's reply being
strictly the words of truth. On this account, even if the oracle's reply
disappoint the hopes of the questioner, he retires without a murmur, for
then he knows the worst of his calamity, and if God orders it so, he must
not complain, because Infinite Wisdom cannot err, and the holy man will
assuredly speak the truth.
The practice so long prevailing in Europe of visiting the cunning man, to
have the hidden mysteries of fate solved, occurred to my recollection when
I first heard of this custom in India.
'Will my son return from his travels during my lifetime?'--was the inquiry
of a truly religious man, whom I knew very intimately, to one of the
professed Soofie class, on his emerging from his hut. The reply was as
follows:--'Go home!--be happy;--comfort your heart;--he is coming!' By a
singular coincidence it happened, that the following day's daak produced a
letter, announcing to him that his son was on his way returning to his
home and his father, who had for some years despaired of ever again seeing
his son in this life.
It is needless to say, that the veneration shown to this Soofie was much
increased by the singular coincidence, because the person who consulted
him was a man of remarkable probity, and not given to indulge in idle
conversations with the worldly-minded of that city.
There are many men in this country, I am told, who make Soofieism their
profession, but who are in reality hypocrites to the world, and their
Maker: actuated sometimes by the love of applause from the multitude, but
oftener, I am assured, by mercenary motives. A Soofie enjoying public
favour may, if he choose, command any man's wealth who gives credit to his
supposed power. All men pay a marked deference to his holy character, and
few would have the temerity to withhold the desired sum, however
inconvenient to bestow, should the demand be made by one professing to be
a Soofie.
The real Soofie is, however, a very different character, and an object of
deserved veneration, if only for the virtue of perfect content with which
his humble mind is endued: respect cannot be withheld by the reflecting
part of the world, when contemplating a fellow-creature (even of a
different faith) whose life is passed in sincere devotion to God, and
strictly conforming to the faith he has embraced. My Native friends inform
me,--and many reprobate the notion,--that the Soofies believe they resolve
into the Divine essence when their souls are purified from the animal
propensities of this life by severe privations, fervent and continual
prayer, watchings, resisting temptations, and profound meditation in
solitude. When they have acquired the perfection they aim at, and are
really and truly the perfect Soofie, they rarely quit the hut they have
first selected for their retirement, and into which no one ever attempts
to intrude, without the Soofie commands it. He enjoys the universal
respect and veneration of all classes of people; he has no worldly rewards
to bestow, yet there are servants always ready to do him any kindness,
amongst the number of his admirers who flock to catch but a glimpse of the
holy man, and fancy themselves better when but the light of his
countenance has beamed upon them. Proudly pre-eminent, in his own eyes, is
the one amongst the multitude who may be so far honoured as to be allowed
to place a platter of food before the Soofie, when the imperative demands
of Nature prevail over his self-inflicted abstinence.
Some Soofies shut themselves in their hut for a few days, and others for
weeks together, without seeing or being seen by a human being. Their
general clothing is simply a wrapper of calico, and their only furniture a
coarse mat. They are said to be alike insensible to heat or cold, so
entirely are their hearts weaned from the indulgence of earthly comforts.
I must explain, however, that there are two classes of the professedly
devout Soofies, viz. the Saalik, and the Majoob.[3] The true Saalik
Soofies are those who give up the world and its allurements, abstain from
all sensual enjoyments, rarely associate with their fellow-men, devote
themselves entirely to their Creator, and are insensible to any other
enjoyments but such as they derive from their devotional exercises.
The Majoob Soofies have no established home nor earthly possessions; they
drink wine and spirits freely, when they can obtain them. Many people
suppose this class have lost the possession of their reason, and make
excuse for their departure from the law on that score. Both classes are
nevertheless in great respect, because the latter are not deemed guilty of
breaking the law, since they are supposed to be insensible of their
actions whilst indulging in the forbidden juice of the grape.
Haafiz,[4] the celebrated poet of Persia, it is related, was a Soofie of
the Majoob class, he lived without a thought of providing for future
exigencies, accepted the offerings of food from his neighbour, drank wine
freely when offered to him, and slept under any shed or hovel he met with,
as contented as if he was in the palace of a king.
Saadie,[5] the Persian poet, was, during the latter years of his life, a
Saalik Soofie of the most perfect kind. Many of the inspirations of his
pen, however, were written in that part of his life which was devoted to
the world and its enjoyments; yet most of these indicate purity of thought
in a remarkable degree. Saadie's life was subject to the most
extraordinary vicissitudes; he possessed an independent mind, scorning
every allurement of wealth which might tend to shackle his principles. He
is said to have repeatedly rejected offers of patronage and pecuniary
assistance from many noblemen, whilst he still loved the world's
enticements, declaring he never could submit to confine himself to
attendance on an earthly master for any lengthened period. His wit,
pleasing deportment, and polite manners, together with the amiable
qualities of his heart, rendered him a general favourite, and they who
could boast most intimacy with Saadie were the most honoured by the world;
for, though but the poor Saadie, he shed a lustre over the assemblies of
the great and noble in birth or station, by his brilliant mind.
The 'Goolistaun'[6] of Saadie has been so often eulogized, as to render it
unnecessary for me to add a single word in commendation of its style and
morality; but I will here take leave to insert an anecdote translated for
me by my husband, in allusion to the incident which prompted Saadie to
write that work, under the title of 'Goolistaun' (Garden of Roses). I will
also here remark, that in the principal cities of Persia, the Mussulmauns
of that age were not equally rigid in their observance of the law
interdicting the use of fermented liquors, as are those of the present day
in Hindoostaun. Many young men among the higher orders indulged freely in
the 'life-inspiring draught', as they were wont to call the juice of the
grape.
'Shiraaz was the abode and the presumptive birth-place of Saadie. In his
early years he was led by a love of society to depart from the rigid
customs of his forefathers, and with the wild youth of his acquaintance to
indulge freely in nightly potations of the forbidden juice of the grape.
He had long delighted his friends and favourites by sharing in their
nocturnal revels, and adding by his wit and pleasantry to the mirthful
moments as they flew by unheeded.
'At a particular season of the year, a convivial party were accustomed to
assemble in a garden of roses, from midnight to the rising sun, to indulge
in the luxury of wine during that refreshing season; as to receive the
first scent from the opening roses as they expand with the dawn of the
morning, constituted a delight, proverbially intoxicating, amongst the
sons of Persia. Saadie composed many airs for the occasion, and gifted by
Nature with a voice equalled only by his wit, he sang them with a melody
so sweet as to render him almost the idol of his companions.
'At one of these seasons of enjoyment, the festival was prepared by his
circle of friends as usual, but Saadie delayed his visit. The whole party
were lost in surprise and regret at an absence as unexpected as deplored.
Some time was passed in fruitless conjecture on the cause of his delay,
and at last it was agreed that a deputation from his well-beloved
associates should go in quest of their favourite. They accordingly went,
and knocked at the door of his room, which they found was securely
fastened within. The poet inquired "Who is it that disturbs my repose, at
this hour, when all good subjects of the King should be at rest?"--"Why,
Saadie, Saadie!" they replied, "it is your friends and associates, your
favourites!--have you forgotten our enjoyments and this season of bliss?
Come, come, open the door, Saadie! away with us! our revels await your
presence. Nothing gives enjoyment to our party until you add your smiles
to our mirth."
'"Let me alone," replied Saadie; "enjoy your pastime, if such it be to ye;
but for me, I am heartily ashamed of my late wanton pursuits. I have
resolved on mending my ways, whilst yet I have time; and be ye also wise,
my friends; follow Saadie's example. Go home to your beds, and forsake the
sinful habits of the world!"
'"Why Saadie, what aileth thee! art thou mad?--or has the study of
philosophy drawn thee from thy former self, whilst yet thine hairs are jet
with youth? These reflections of thine will suit us till far better when
time hath frosted our beards. Come, come, Saadie, away with us! let not
the precious moments escape in this unprofitable converse. You must come,
Saadie; our hearts will break without you!"
'"Nay, nay," responded Saadie, "my conscience smites me that I have erred
too long. It suits not my present temper to join in your mirth."--"Open
the door to us at any rate," sounded from the many voices without; "speak
to us face to face, our dear and well-beloved friend! let us have
admission, and we will argue the subject coolly."--Saadie's good-nature
could not resist the appeal, the door was unbarred, and the young men
entered in a body.
'"We have all wickedly broken the law of the faithful," said Saadie to his
guests; and he tried to reason with his unreasonable favourites, who, on
their part, used raillery, bantering, argument, and every power of speech,
to turn Saadie from his steady purpose of now fulfilling the law he had
wilfully violated. They effected nothing in moving him from his purpose,
until one of the young men, to whom Saadie was much attached, spoke
tenderly to him of the affection both himself and friends entertained for
him, adding, "It is written in our law, that if a Mussulmaun be guilty of
any sin, however great, (and all kinds of sin are therein enumerated), and
he afterwards sincerely repents before God, with fasting and prayer, his
sins shall be forgiven. Now you, Saadie, who are deeply versed in the way
of wisdom, and better acquainted with the words of the Khoraun than any
other man on earth, tell me, is there in that holy book a promise made of
forgiveness for that man who breaks the hearts of his fellow-creatures?
With us there are many hearts so devotedly attached to you, that must
assuredly burst the bonds of life by your complete and sudden desertion of
them, so that not one sin but many shall be hurled by their deaths on your
conscience, to be atoned for how you may."
'Saadie loved them all too dearly to resist their persevering proofs of
affection, and he suffered himself, after a little more argument, to be
led forth to the scene of their revels, where, however, he argued strongly
on the impropriety of their habits and refused to be tempted by the
alluring wine. He then promised to prepare for them a never-fading garden
of roses which should last with the world; every leaf of which, if plucked
with attention, should create a greater and more lasting bliss about their
hearts than the best wine of Shiraaz, or the most refined aromatic had
hitherto conveyed to their sensual appetites.'
After the evening in question, Saadie abstained from all participation in
the revels of his friends, and devoted his hours to retirement that he
might accomplish the 'Goolistaun' he had pledged himself to cultivate for
their more substantial benefit and perpetual enjoyment. The simplicity,
elegance, purity of style, and moral precepts conveyed in this work, prove
the author to have been worthy the respect with which his name has been
reverenced through all ages, and to this day, by the virtuously disposed
his work is read with unabated interest.
Saadie did not remain very long at Shiraaz after his conversion, nor did
he settle any where for any long period. The Persian writers assert that
he disliked the importunities of the world, which, sensible of his merits
as a poet and companion, constantly urged him to associate with them. He,
therefore, lived a wandering life for many years, carefully concealing his
name, which had then become so celebrated by his writings, that even
beyond the boundaries of Persia his fame was known.
As his manner of life was simple, his wants were few; he depended solely
on the care of Divine Providence for his daily meal, avoiding every thing
like laying by from to-day's produce for the morrow's sustenance. He
considered that provision alone acceptable, which the bounty of Divine
Providence daily provided for his need, by disposing the hearts of others
to tender a suitable supply. In fact, he is said to have been of opinion
that the store laid up by men for future exigencies lessened the
delightful feeling of dependance on the bounty of God, who faileth not,
day by day, to provide for the birds and beasts of the forest with equal
care as for the prince on his throne; he would say, 'I shall be tempted to
forget from whom my bread is received, if I have coins in my purse to
purchase from the vender. Sweet is the daily bread granted to my prayers
and dependance on the sole Giver of all good!'
To illustrate the necessity of perfect content, he relates, in his
writings, the following interesting anecdote:--'I was once travelling on
foot, where the roads were rugged, my shoes worn out, and my feet cut by
the stones. I was desirous of pursuing my journey quickly, and secretly
mourned that my feet pained me, and that my shoes were now rendered
useless; often wishing, as I stepped with caution, that I possessed the
means of replenishing these articles so useful to a traveller.
'With these feelings of dissatisfaction, I approached the spot where a
poor beggar was seated, who, by some calamity, had been deprived of both
his feet. I viewed this sad object with much commiseration, for he was
dependant on the kindness of his fellow-beggars to convey him daily to
that public spot, where the passing traveller, seeing his misery, might be
induced to bestow upon him a few coins to provide for his subsistence.
"Alas! alas!" said I, "how have I suffered my mind to be disturbed because
my feet pained me, and were shoeless. Ungrateful being that I am! rather
ought I to rejoice with an humble heart, that my gracious Benefactor hath
granted me the blessing of feet, and sound health. Never let me again
murmur or repine for the absence of a luxury, whilst my real wants are
amply supplied."'
One of my objects in detailing the anecdotes of Saadie in this place, is
to give a more correct idea of the Soofie character of that particular
class called Saalik, to which he ultimately belonged.
The next translation from the life of Saadie will show how beautifully his
well-tempered spirit soared above those difficulties which the common mind
would have sunk under. His fame, his superior manners, were of that rare
kind, that distance from his birth-place could be no obstacle to his
making friends, if he chose to disclose his name in any city of Asia.
I have no dates to guide me in placing the several anecdotes in their
proper order; this, however, will be excused, as I do not pretend to give
his history.
'On one occasion, Saadie was journeying on foot, and being overtaken by
the Arabs, (who, or a party of, it may be presumed, were at war with
Persia), he was taken prisoner, and conveyed by them, with many others, to
Aleppo. The prisoners, as they arrived, were all devoted to the public
works (fortifying the city), and obliged to labour according to their
ability.
'Saadie, unused to any branch of mechanical labour, could only be employed
in conveying mortar to the more scientific workmen. For many months he
laboured in this way, degrading as the employment was, without a murmur,
or a desire that his fate had been otherways ordained. Hundreds of men
then living in Aleppo would have been proud of the honour and the good
name they must have acquired from the world, by delivering the Poet from
his thraldom, had they known he was amongst them, a slave to the Arabs;
for Saadie was revered as a saint by those who had either read his works,
or heard of his name, extolled as it was for his virtues. But Saadie
placed his trust in God alone, and his confidence never for an instant
forsook him; he kept his name concealed from all around him, laboured as
commanded, and was contented.
'Many months of degrading servitude had passed by, when one day, it so
happened that a rich Jew merchant, who had formerly lived at Shiraaz, and
there had been honoured by the regard of the idolized Saadie, visited
Aleppo, on his mercantile concerns. Curiosity led him to survey the
improvements going on in the city; and passing the spot where Saadie was
then presenting his load of mortar to the mason, he thought he recognized
the Poet, yet deemed it impossible that he should be engaged in so
degrading an employment, who was the object of universal veneration in
Persia. Still the likeness to his former friend was so striking, that he
felt no trifling degree of pleasure, whilst contemplating those features
whose resemblance recalled the image of that holy man who was so dear to
him, and brought back to his recollection many delightful hours of
friendly converse, which at Shiraaz had cheated time of its weight, and
left impressions on his heart to profit by during life.
'"I will talk with this man," thought the Jew; "surely he must be related
to my friend; the face, the form, the graceful manner, and even in that
rude garb and occupation, he so strongly resembles my friend, that I
cannot doubt he must be of the same kindred."
'Drawing near to Saadie, the Jew accosted him with, "Who are you,
friend,--and whence do you come?" Saadie's voice dispelled every doubt of
the Jew, their eyes met, and in a few seconds they were clasped in each
other's warm embrace, the Jew lamenting, in terms of warm sympathy, the
degradation of the immortalized poet, and sainted man; whilst he in turn
checked his friend's murmurings, by expressing his conviction that the
wisdom of God knew best how to lead his confiding servants to himself,
declaring his present occupation did not render him discontented.
'The Jew went without delay to the superintendant of the public works, and
inquired the sum he would be willing to receive in lieu of the labourer
whom he desired to purchase, carefully avoiding the name of Saadie lest
the ransom should be proportioned to the real value of such a slave. The
man agreed to take one hundred and ten pieces of silver (each in value
half a dollar). The sum was promptly paid, and the Jew received an order
to take away his purchase when and wherever he pleased. He lost no time in
possessing himself of his treasured friend, conveyed him to the city,
where he clothed him in apparel better suited to his friend, and on the
same day Saadie accompanied the benevolent Israelite to his country
residence, some miles distant from the city of Aleppo.
'Arrived here, Saadie enjoyed uninterrupted peace of mind for a long
season, his heart bounding with gratitude to God, who had, he felt assured,
worked out his deliverance from slavery and its consequences; and as may
be supposed from such a heart, Saadie was truly sensible of the benevolent
Jew's kindness, with whom he was constrained to remain a considerable time,
for the Jew indeed loved him as a brother, and always grieved at the bare
probability that they might ever again be separated; and desiring to
secure his continuance with him during their joint lives, he proposed that
Saadie should accept his only daughter in marriage with a handsome dowry.
'Saadie resisted his friend's offer for some time, using arguments which,
instead of altering his friend's purpose, only strengthened the desire to
secure this amiable man as the husband of his daughter. Saadie assured him
he was sensible of the offence his friend might give to the opinions of
his people, by the proposal of uniting his daughter to a man of another
faith, and that their prejudices would bring innumerable evils on his good
name by such an alliance. "No," said Saadie, "I cannot consent to such a
measure. I have already been a great trouble to you, if not a burden; let
me depart, for I cannot consent to draw down on the head of my friend the
censures of his tribe, and, perhaps, in after-time, disappointments. I
have, indeed, no desire to marry; my heart and mind are otherways engaged."
'The friends often discussed the subject ere Saadie gave way to the
earnest solicitations of the Jew, to whose happiness the grateful heart of
Saadie was about to be sacrificed when he reluctantly consented to become
the husband of the young Jewess. The marriage ceremony was performed
according to the Jewish rites, when Saadie was overpowered with the
caresses and munificence of his friend and father-in-law.
'A very short season of domestic peace resulted to him from the alliance.
The young lady had been spoiled by the over-indulgence of her doating
parent, her errors of temper and mind having never been corrected. Proud,
vindictive, and arrogant, she played the part of tyrant to her meek and
faultless husband. She strove to rouse his temper by taunts, revilings,
and indignities that required more than mortal nature to withstand
replying to, or bear with composure.
'Still Saadie went on suffering in silence; although the trials he had to
endure undermined his health, he never allowed her father to know the
misery he had entailed on himself by this compliance with his well-meant
wishes; nor was the secret cause of his altered appearance suspected by
the kind-hearted Jew, until by common report his daughter's base behaviour
was disclosed to the wretched father, who grieved for the misfortunes he
had innocently prepared for the friend of his heart.
'Saadie, it is said, entreated the good Jew to allow of a divorce from the
Jewess, which, however, was not agreed to; and when his sufferings had so
increased that his tranquillity was destroyed, fearing the loss of reason
would follow, he fled from Aleppo in disguise and retraced his steps to
Shiraaz, where in solitude his peace of mind was again restored, for there
he could converse with his merciful Creator and Protector uninterrupted by
the strife of tongues.'
[1] _Hudhud_, the lapwing, hoopoe. In the Koran (xxvii. 20, with Sale's
note) the bird is described as carrying a letter from Solomon to the
Queen of Sheba. On another occasion, when Solomon was lost in the
desert, he sent it to procure for him water for ablution.
[2] The term _sufi_, derived from _suf_, 'wool', in allusion to
the garments worn by them, was applied in the second century of Islam
to men or women who adopted the ascetic or quietistic way of life. See
Hughes, _Dictionary of Islam_, 608 ff.: D.B. Macdonald, _The
Development of Muslim Theology_, 1903: E.G. Browne, _A Year Amongst
the Persians_, 1893.
[3] If a Sufi becomes, by devotion, attracted to God, he is called
_Salik-i-majzub_, 'an attracted devotee': if he practises
complete devotion, but is not influenced by the special attraction of
God, he is called _Salik_, 'a devotee' (Hughes, _Dictionary of
Islam_, 612: Jaffur Shurreef, _Qanoon-e-Islam_, 197).
[4] See p. 255.
[5] See p. 255.
[6] Gulistan.