Jalāl Al-dīn Rūmī

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JALĀL AL-DĪN RŪMĪ

Author(s): A. J. ARBERRYReviewed work(s):Source: Islamic Studies, Vol. 1, No. 1 (MARCH 1962), pp. 89-105Published by: Islamic Research Institute, International Islamic University, Islamabad

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JALAL

AL-DlN

RUMl*

A.

J.

ARBERRY

It

is

now

forty

years

or

so

since

my

teacher

the

late

Professor

R. A. Nicholson embarked upon his last and greatest work, the

edition and

translation

of

the

Maihnawi

of

Jalal

al-DIn

Rami;

twenty

years

since

the

eighth

and

final

volume

of

that

immense

study

was

published

;

five

years

later

he

died.

I

do

not

propose

to

rehearse

what

can

be

taken

for

granted

:

the

great

original

genius

of

Rami,

the

profundity

of

his

thought,

he

supreme

beauty

of

his

mystical

imagery,

the

miraculous

fecundity

of

his

muse.

My

topic

is

much

more

restricted,

but

I

hope

for

all

that

interesting.

I

intend

to

say

something

about

work

which

has been

done

on

Rami

since

Nicholson

s

death,

and

to

consider

how

that

work

has

helped

forward

our

understanding

of

the

man

and

the

poet.

After

that,

I

shall

sketch

briefly

some

lines

along

which

future

research

might

be

usefully

conducted.

Let

us

begin

paradoxically

with

last

things

irst.

In

1959

the

Turkish

scholarTahsin Yazici

produced

at

Ankara

the

first

volume

of

the

first critical

edition

of

that

well-known

hagiography

of

the

Mevlevis,

Aflaki's

Manaqib

al-Arifin.

This

source-book

of

very

uneven value, composed by a disciple of Ramfs grandson, has been

available

to

scholars

many

years

now,

particularly

in

C.

Huart's

translation

(Paris,

1918-1922).

For all

that

one

can

welcome

heartily

this

promise

of

the

complete

original,

with

all

its

farrago

of

anecdotes

grave

and

gay;

the

mass

of

thaumaturgic

chaff

contains

not

a

few

grains

of

dependable

report.

The book

is

beautifully

produced,

though

extremely

expensive.

And

whilst

speaking

of

Turkey,

let

us

mention the

great

revival

of

interest

in

Rami

which

has

taken

place

in

that

country,

symbolised by

annual

commemora

tions at the poet's shrine, and betokened more substantially by the

issue

of

translations of

his

works

including

a

four-volume

version

of

the

Diwan-i

kabtr?this

last

unfortunately

a

premature

adventure,

for

reasons

which

my

next

notice will

make

apparent.

*

A

lecture

delivered

in

1960 before

the

Royal

Asiatic

Society,

London.







90

A.

J.

ARBERRY

Recently

I

received from

Professor

Badi* al-Zaman Furazanfar of

the

University

of

Tehran

the

fourth

fascicle

of

his

critical edition

of

the

Kulliyat-i

Shams,

the

collected

odes,

lyrics

and

quatrains

of

RQmi.

I

may

be

allowed

here

to

interpose

personal

note.

It

had

been

my

fond

if

presumptuous

ambition

to

attempt

to

complete

my

teacher's

work

on

RamI

at

any

rate

to

the

extent

of

editing

the

Kulliyat.

Having

found

in

the

library

of Sir

Chester

Beatty

a

majestic

copy

of

this

huge collection,

undated

but

certainly

completed

not

long

after

Rumi's

death,

in

about

1948 I

proposed

to

theTrustees of theGibb Memorial Trust that theymight issue a

facsimile

of this

manuscript,

to

be

accompanied

by

a

collation

with

other

ancient

copies,

mostly

in

Turkey.

To

my

disappointment

this

proposal

was

negatived;

and all

that I

could

do

at

that

time

was to

reproduce

a

page

of

the Chester

Beatty

codex

as

an

illustra

tion

to

a

volume

published

in

1949

at

Sir

Chester

Beatty's

expense

containing

verse

translations

by

myself

of

360

of

the

quatrains

of

RamL Not

long

afterwards

I

heard

that

Professor

Furazanfar

was

himself

ntending

o

prepare

an

edition

of

the

Kulliyat

This news

was a

complete

consolation

for

the

failure

of

my

own

initiative;

and

I

was

very

happy

to

arrange

for

that

great

Persian

scholar

to

receive

a

microfilm

f the

Chester

Beatty

manuscript.

The

edition,

which

takes

into

account

all

the

most

authoritative

sources,

has

since

proceeded

at

an

admirable

pace.

The

first

fascicle

came

out

in

1957,

the

second

in

1958,

the

third

in

1959,

the

fourth

in

1960.

One

may

well

be

curious

as

to

the

extent

of

RQml's

output

of

odes

and

lyrics.

I

suppose

not

many will be familiar with the two

foliovolumes

of the

huge

but

virtually

worthless Indian

lithograph,

recently

somewhat

foolishly reprinted

in

Tehran,

presumably

with

commercial

motives,

in

the

fattest

book

I

know.

Furazanfar's

edition

(I

need

hardly

say

that

it

is

a

most

meticulous

piece

of

scholarship)

has

so

far

reached

to

the

end

of the

letter

nun,

leaving

still

to

be

printed

the

poems

rhyming

in

waw,

ha

and

ya?the

last

certain

to

be

extremely

numerous?followed

by

the

tarkib-bands

and

the

quatrains.

To

date,

then,

the

tally

of

odes

and

lyrics

is

no

less than 2,118 containing inall 22,375couplets. Thus, theestimate

which

I

once

made

of

25,000

couplets

will

prove

to

have

been

by

no

means

exaggerated.

Furuzanfar

intends

to

complete

his

monumental edition

with

full

glossaries

and

indices.

I

have much

more

to

say

on

Professor

Furazanfar's

unremitting







jalSl

al-din

rDmi

91

labours

upon

RamI;

but

for

the

moment

I

call attention

to

the

work

of a

younger

Persian

specialist

on

mysticism,

Dr.

Sayyid

Sadegh

Gowharin

also

of

the

University

of

Tehran,

whom

it

was

my

privilege

to

have

working

with

me

in

Cambridge

for

some

weeks

earlier

in

1960.

In

1959

Dr.

Gowharin

published

the first

ritical

edition

of the

Asrar-namah

of

Farid

al-Din

'Attar,

a

poem

which

as

we

know

well

exercised

a

powerful

influence

upon

Rumi

as

a

young

man.

In

establishing

his

text

the

editor

was

able

to

consult

a

number

of

extremely

old

copies

brought

to

light

only

recently

in

Turkey, including

one

written

in

the

7th/13th century.

Dr.

Gowharin's

edition

is

fully

annotated

and

elaborately

indexed,

and

constitutes

a

fine

example

of

the

excellent editorial

work

being

done

now

by

his

generation

of

Persian

scholars.

In

the

same

year

(1959)

there

appeared

the first fascicle of Dr.

Gowharin's

Vocabulary

of

the

Words

and

Expressions

of

the

athnawi

of

Jalaluddin

Balkhi.

This

extremely interesting

volume

in

364

pages

covers

only

the

first

letter

of

the

Persian

alphabet,

so

that the

whole

work

when

complete

will be of

spectacular proportions,

immensely

helpful

to

all

future students and interpreters of Rumi's Mathnawi. I may add

that

the book

is

No.

479 in

the

series

of

publications

issued

by

the

University

of

Tehran,

a

list

ranging

over

many

branches

of

knowledge

which

certainly

deserves

to

be

better

known

outside

Iran.

Professor

Furuzanfar

is

more

fortunate

in

this

respect

than

Professor

Nicholson,

whose death

Furazanfar

commemorated with

a

beautiful

and

moving

elegy;

I

have

given

a

translation

of this

poem

in

my

recent

Oriental

Essays.

Nicholson

used

and

appreciated

the

first edition (Tehran, 1936) of Furuzanfar's biography of RamI, but

died

long

before

the

drastically

revised second

edition

appeared

in

1954.

The

main

cause

necessitating

this

extensive

rewriting

had

been the

discovery

meanwhile of

rich

new

materials

throwing

a

flood

of

new

light

on

Ram and his

circle. Chief

credit for

this

epoch-making exploration,

as

indeed for similar

equally

important

discoveries

in

many

branches

of

Islamic

literature,

belongs

to

Professor

Hellmut

Ritter.

In

1940

and

1942

Ritter

published

two

long

articles

in

Der

Islam

setting

out

in

detail

many

manuscripts

relevant to the

study

of Ram

I

which

he

had

encountered in

Turkish

libraries.

(One

may

recall

that

it

was

Professor

Ritter

who

directed

Nicholson

to

the

oldest

codices

of

the

Mathnawi,

thus

contributing

ery

essentially

to

the

success

of

the

edition).

Romi's







92

A.

J.

ARBERRY

prose

discourses

entitled

Fihi

ma

fihi

had

already

been

published

in

lithograph n1928 ; but the ancient copies of thismost important

work

now

brought

out

of oblivion

made it

imperative

that

a

new

edition

should

be

prepared.

Professor

Furuzanfar

addressed

himself

to

this

task,

and in 1952

his

fine

and

richly

annotated

text

appeared

as

No.

105

in

the

list of

Tehran

University

publications.

The

most

exciting

of all

Professor Ritter's

discoveries

was

a

book

composed

by

Rumi's

father,

Baha'

al-Din

Walad,

entitled

Mdarif.

We

knew

already

from

Aflaki,

and

also from

Ramfs

earlier

biographer

Farldan

Sipahsalar,

that

Baha*

al-Din had

written

such

a

book

and

that

Ramt

in

his earlier

years

studied

it

con

tinuously

under

the

instruction

of

his

teacher

Burhan

al-Din

Muhaqqiq,

until

the

'man of

mystery'

Shams-i Tabriz

appeared

on

the

scene

and forbade

him

to

read

it

any

further.

Now

the

work

itself

had

been

rediscovered,

and

it

was

plainly

urgent

that

it

should

be

printed.

So

again

Professor

Furazanfar,

who had

mean

while

been

researching

nd

publishing

on

the

sources

of

the

stories

Rami

used

to

illustrate

the

Mathnam,

set

himself

with

a

will

to

this new task.

Furazanfar

has left

on

record

a

graphic

account

of

the

excite

ment

he

experienced

on

reading

the

Mdarif.

'From

the

very

first

perusal,'

he

wrote,

1

became

aware

of

the

importance

of this

book

and

its

influence

on

Rumi's

thought.'

His

first

acquaintance

with

the

work

was in

a

manuscript

belonging

to

the

late

Dr. 'Ali

Akbar

Dehkhuda;

but

this

copy,

though

good,

was

only

a

fragment.

Furazanfar

then

procured through

Ritter's

good

offices

a

photo

graph

of

a

complete

copy

in

Istanbul

University

Library,

'The

writer read through this copy a number of times from beginning to

end,

and

each

time

he

finished

reading

it,

he

found

himself

more

eager

than

ever to

peruse

and

study

anew

the

strange

and

rare

things

contained

in

that

mysterious

and

spiritual

anthology.

As

the

result

of

repeated

perusal

and

examination he

became

more

con

vinced

than

ever

that the solution of

many

obscure

and

difficult

passages

in

the

Mathnawi

was

dependent

on

the

indication

and

guidance

of

this

book,

and

that

understanding

of the secrets

of the

son's

words

could

only

be

achieved

through

acquaintance

with

the

subtle

hints

of

the

father.'

The

story

of the

printing

of the

Mdarif

is

an

eloquent

com

mentary

on

a

situation

only

too

well

known

to

Islamic

scholars.

By

the

summer

f

1951

Furuzanfar

had

already

seen

through

the

press







jalAl

al-din

rDmi

93

the

first

part

(out

of

four)

of

the book when

he

heard

from

Professor Mojtaba Minovi, working away in the libraries of Turkey,

that he

had

come

upon

a

manuscript

of

the

Maarif

in

the

Aya

Sofya

mosque

dated

747/1346,

two

centuries

better

than

the

material

up

to

then

available.

Photographs

were

hastily

procured

and

a

new

collation

proceeded.

Variants

for

the

first

123

pages

of

the

text,

already

printed

off,

had

to

be

collected into

an

appendix

;

and

it

is

not

a

short

list.

Then

it

was

found

that

the

Aya Sofya

copy

was

itself

defective,

containing only

a

little

over

a

half

of

what

was

already

known.

Meanwhile

a

second

copy

in

the

Istanbul

Uni

versity

Library

was

reported

and

photographed,

collation

once

more

went

ahead,

and

by

the

autumn

of

1954

the

text

of

the first

three

parts

had

been

printed

off.

Then

came

news

of

yet

another

discovery,

this

time

in

Konya

Museum?a

copy

dated

728/1327

comprising

a

still fourth

part.

By

then,

however,

so

much time

and

money

had been invested

in

the

text

that

it

was

decided

to

issue

the

text

as

it

stood

;

Furuz5nfar

agreed

to

postpone

to

a

future

date

the

publication

of

the

fourth

part

and

with

it

the

notes

and

com

mentarywhich he planned forthewhole book. To thebest ofmy

knowledge

this

supplement

has

not

yet

appeared.

The

history

of

the

publication

of

this

extremely

important

text

is thus

virtually

a

repetition

of

Nicholson's

hair-raising

experi

ences

when he

was

working

on

the

Mathnam.

It

reinforces

a

point

which

has

been

hammered home

for

many

years

by

all

scholars

familiarwith

the facts

;

I

have

myself

been

campaigning

on

this

issue

for

well

over

twenty

years,

and

have

not

yet

seen

any

progress.

The

grave

question

which arises

is

this

:

is it

justifiable

in

present

circumstances to invest

large

sums of money in the

production

of

scholarly

editions

of

Islamic

texts,

when

it is

virtually

certain

that

more

ancient

and

more

reliable

copies

of

almost

any

given

text

await

discovery

?

The

greatest

repository

of

unknown

Islamic

manuscripts

is of

course

Turkey;

last

year

a

Turkish

scholar

was

touring

the

libraries of

Europe;

when

I

met

him

he

told

me

that

to

his

knowledge

more

than

a

million

Arabic

manuscripts

were

preserved

in

Istanbul,

and that he had

come

across

thousands

of

completely

unknown works in

the

course

of

his

explorations.

I

will

quote

at

this

point

a

few

sentences

from

the

Presidential

Address

to

the British

Academy

delivered

on 6th

July,

1960

by

Sir Maurice

Bowra:

'Just

as

new

life

was

injected

into

the

classics

by

the







94

A.

J.

ARBERRY

extension

of

their field

to

include

other

related

subjects,

so,

when similar forms of scholasticism seem likely to hamper the

free

development

of

a

branch

of

study,

much

can

be

done

by

looking

beyond

its

existing

boundaries.

At

no

period

has

the

study

of

history

been

so

thoroughly

ursued

as

it

is

today,

and

so

much is

being

done

that it

seems

churlish

to

ask

for

more.

Yet

it

is

noticeable

that

much

research

is

confined

to

matters

which

have

already

been

studied

with

some

care,

while

other

fields,

which offer

enormous

possibilities,

remain

neglected.

Now

thatWestern

Europe

is

no

longer

regarded

as

the

centre

of

the

world

and

the

source

of

all its

achievements,

there

is

much

to

be said

for

studying

what

has

happened

outside

it,

if

only

that

Europeans may

see

Europe itself

in

a

different

perspective.

For this the

times

are

highly propitious.

The

Chinese

are

publishing

at

a

remarkable

rate

diaries,

official

papers,

and

archives which

were,

till

quite

lately,

lost in

decay

ing

palaces

or

jealously

guarded

from

peering

eyes.

In

Istanbul

the

libraries

of the

great

mosques

contain

a

huge

mass

of

material

which

has

hardly

been

subjected

to

even

the

most

perfunctory

survey/

Sir

Maurice

Bowra

then enumerated

other

fields of

study

similarly

waiting

cultivation;

but

I

have

quoted

enough

to

under

line

my

argument.

We

know

how

individual

scholars,

men

of

great

courage

and

industry,

have

from time

to

time

conducted

what

I

can

only

call 'one-man

commando

raids'

on

the libraries

of

Turkey

and

other

parts

of

the

Islamic

world.

What

they

have

uncovered

has

always

been

astounding.

Doubtless

individual

venturers

will

go

on

bucketing through

these

uncharted

seas.

But

in

the

name

of

common

sense,

is it

not

time

that this

exceedingly

urgent

problem

was

tackled

on a

more

rational

basis

? Is

it

not

time

that

funds

were

provided,

and

a

team

recruited,

for

a

systematic exploration

of

the

vast

treasuries of

knowledge

scattered

through

the

public

and

private

libraries

of

the

Middle

East

?

How

many

branches

of

scholarship

would

benefit

from

uch

a

combined

operation

The

project

would of

course

be

expensive,

but

only

relatively

so.

I

suppose

it

would

not

cost

more

to

handlist

all the

Islamic

manuscripts

in

the world

than

to

manufacture

two

or

three

hydrogen

bombs.

Meanwhile

the

bombs

are

coming

off the

produc

tion

line

:

ismankind

really

more

interested n

procuring

the

means

to

annihilate

itselfthan

to

recover

a

large

part

of

its

own

spiritual,

intellectualand artisticheritage ?

After

this

digression

let

us

return

to

Ruml

and

his

circle.

So

thanks

to

Professor

FurQzanfar

and

his

circle

of

willing

helpers,

it

is

now

possible

to

study

the

writings

of

the

father

f

RamI,

and

to

estimate how

much

his

son

owed

to

him.

The

extent

of this







jalSl

al-dIn

rijmI

95

indebtedness

proves

to

be

unexpectedly

great:

unexpectedly,

because there seems to have been a conspiracy from very long ago

to

play

down

Baha'

al-Dln

Walad's

part

in

the

shaping

of

Rum

as

a

thinker

and

a

poet.

The role of

Shams-i

Tabriz

has

been

correspondingly

overestimated ;

what

that

part

may

have

been

will

only

become

finally

clear when Shams-i

Tabriz's

own

writings

have

been

published

;

and

of

course

they

exist in

manuscript,

so

perhaps

one

of

these

days

we

shall

be

receiving

from

Professor

Furuzanfar

an

edition

of

the

Maqdldt-i

Shams.

Yet

another

vitally

important

text

from Rumi's

circle awaits

publication:

this is

the

Madrif

of

Rami's old

friend

and

preceptor

Burhan

al-Dln

Muhaqqiq,

miraculously

preserved

through

the

dark

centuries

in

Turkey

and

now

recently

brought

to

light.

This book

by

Rumi's

father,

which

is

certainly

(and

I

fully

agree

with

Furuzanfar's

estimate)

among

the

finest

and

most

beautiful

products

of

Islamic

mysticism.

Furuzanfar

has

compared

the

Madrif

with the

Mawdqif

of

al-Niffarl

which

I

published

back

in

1934

;

and

the

comparison

is

very

apt,

as

also

is

Furuzanfar's

further remark that the Mawdqif is 'much more obscure and

involved.'

A

very

large

part

of

the

Madrif

records

meditations,

often

in

mosque,

on

the

name

and

attributes

of

God,

or

passages

from

the

Qur'an,

or

Traditions,

together

with

descriptions

of

mystical

experiences

which

accompanied

those

meditations. In

many

contexts

the

author

sets

down

conversations

which

he had

with

God,

using

generally

the

term

ilhdm

to

express

the

medium

of

communication.

This is

of

course

a

technical

term used

commonly

to

distinguish

private

revelation

to

individual

mystics

from

the

prophetic

inspiration

called

wahy.

It is interesting to recall that

Hujwirl,

the

famous

5th/llth

century

writer

on

?Qfism,

ejected

the

validity

of

ilhdm

and bracketed

the

'inspirationists'

with

the

Brahmans.

It

will be

remembered that

Balkh,

the

birthplace

of

RQmi,

was

once

a

very

important

centre

of

Buddhism.

If

the

Madrif

had been

in

my

hands

in

1956

when

I

lectured

in

Manchester

on

"The

Divine

Colloquy

in

Islam"

Baha'

al-Dln

Walad

would

certainly

have

joined

the

company

of

Abo

Yazid

al-Bistami,

al-Niffari

and Ibn

'Arab

amongst

those

who

claimed to

have

enjoyed

the

private

confidence

of

God.

The

opening

section

of

the

Madrif

is

a

meditation

on

the

phrase

'Guide

us

on

the

straight

path'

from

he

first

Sarah

of

the

Qur'an,







96

A.

J.

ARBERRY

'I

said,

"O

God,

of

Thy

favour

bring

every

part

of

me

unto

the city of joy and ease, and throw open to every part of me a

thousand

gates

of

joy."

The

straight

path

is

that

which

brings

a

man

unto

the

city

of

joy,

and

the

crooked

path

is

that

which

brings

not

a

man

unto the

city

of

joy.

Even

so

I

saw

that

God

had

given

me

and

all

my

parts

to

taste

the

savour

of

all

beauteous

ones,

so

that

it

was

as

if

every

part

of

me

was

commingled

with

every

part

of

them

;

and

milk

came

flowing

out

of

every

part

of

me.

Every

conceivable

form

of

beauty

and

perfection

and

savour

and

love

and

joy?all

of these

became

as

it

were

visible

out

of God's

essence

in

the

sixfold

dimensions

of

me.

Just

as

when

a man

possesses

an

azure

robe,

and

on

that

robe are figures of every kind, and every manner of shapes and

hues,

even so

God

was

manifesting

in

me

out

of Himself

a

hundred

thousand

forms

of

sense

and

perception,

and

I

beheld

the

forms

of

all

beauteous and

lovely

ones

and

their

loves,

and

symmetries,

and

the

forms of

all

intelligible

things,

maidens of

Paradise

and

palaces

and

running

water,

and

other marvels

beyond

all

reckoning.

I

was

contemplating

these

forms,

that

so

much

beauty

appeared arrayed

within

me

;

God

was

showing

me

every

form

that I

desired,

and

I

saw

that

those

all

became

visible

out

of

the

parts

of

me.

And

I

saw

thatGod had

made

to

appear

a

hundred

thousand

fragrant

herbs,

rose

and

rose

garden, jessamine

both

yellow

and

white,

and

had

converted

the

parts

of

me

into

a

rose-bower.

Then

God

squeezed

all

those,

and

made

them

into

rose-water;

out

of

its

sweetness

He

created

maidens

of

Paradise,

and

mingled

all

the

parts

of

me

with them.

So

I

saw

in

truth

that

all

lovely

forms

are

the

forms

of

the fruit

of

God.

Now

all

these

delights

come to

me

from

God

even

in

this

present

world.

If

they

say,

"Do

you

see

God,

or

do

you

not

see

?"

I

answer,

"Of

myself

I do

not

see,

for

God

says,

Thou

shah

not

see

Me.

But

when

He

shows

Himself

what

can

I

do

not to

see

?"

1

This

opening

passage

is

a

typical

specimen

of

the

style

and

rhetoric of the Mdarif. The discourse is far more akin to poetry

than

to

prose;

it

is

constructed

in

rhythmic

periods

much

as

the

Qur'an

but

the

flow

is

even

more

torrential.

From

the

very

first

reading

it

becomes

obvious

that

impetuous

cataract

of

images

and

uncontrollable flow

of

words

with

which

we

have

long

been

familiar

n

the

writings

of

Ramf,

and

especially

in

his

Diwan-i

Shams,

was

an

inherited characteristic

developed

by

long

study

of his

father's

meditations.

Phrases like

'a

hundred

thousand

forms'

and

'a

hundred thousand

fragrant

herbs'

recur

again and again inRumi's writings; the overwhelming physical

sense

of the

mystical

experience

is

common

to

both.

The

notion

that

Paradise,

like

Hell,

is

a

subjective

reality

is

developed again

and

again

in

the

Mathnawt,

and

indeed

stems

from

Avicenna.

An

interesting

reatment

f

this

theme

occurs in

RQmi's

Fthi

ma

f%hi,







jalsl

al-DlN

rumi

97

'Some

one

said

:

Qadi

Izz

al-Din

sends

his

greetings,

and

always speaks of you in the most approving terms. The Master

said

:

Whoso remembers

us,

and

speaks

us

well,

Long

may

the

world

of his

high

merit

tell.

If

any

man

speaks

well

of

another,

that

good appraisal

reverts

again

to

himself,

nd in

reality

it

is

himself

that

he

is

praising

and

applauding.

It

is like

a

man

who

sows

round

his

garden

flowers

and

sweet-smelling

herbs

;

whenever

he

looks

out,

he

sees

flowers

and

sweet-smelling

herbs

and

is

always

in

Paradise,

inasmuch

as

he

has

formed

the habit

of

speaking

well

of

other

men.

Whenever

a

man

has

engaged

himself

in

speaking

well

of

another, that person becomes his friend ;when he remembers

him,

he

brings

to

mind

a

friend

and

bringing

to

mind

a

friend

is like

flowers

and

a

flower-garden,

it is

refreshment and

repose.

But when

a

man

speaks

ill

of

another,

that

person

becomes

hateful

in

his

eyes

;

whenever

he

remembers him and

his

image

comes

before

him,

it

is

as

though

a

snake

or

a

scorpion,

a

thorn

or

thistle

has

appeared

in

his

sight.

Now

since

you

are

able

night

and

day

to

see

flowers

and

a

flower-garden

and

the

meadows

of

Iram,

why

do

you go

about

amidst

thorns

and

snakes

?

Love

every

man,

so

that

you may

always

dwell

among

flowers

and

a

flower-garden.'

The famouswhirlingdance of theMevlevi dervishes is com

monly

stated

to

have

been

invented

by

Rumi

to

symbolise

his

grief

over the

final

disappearance

of

Shams-i

Tabriz,

a

restless

circling

hunt

accompanied by

the

wailing

reed-flute.

Certain

passages

in

the

Madrif

suggest

that

it

was

his father's

writings

that

inspired

the beautiful

ritual,

'I

recited,

1 take

refuge

and

Praise

belongs

to

God.

Just

as

when

a

man

is

seated before

his

Lord,

and

pronounces

a

hundred

thousand

praises

and

blessings

upon

Him,

and lauds

Him,

groans

and wails, and proffers all his heart's love to Him ;

even

so

you

might

say

that

these

words which

I

recite,

and

these

affectionate

gazes

of

mine,

are

like

the

songs

and lute and

rebeck

and

drum

and

flute

wherewith

a

man

woos

his

beloved.

I

wander

about

from

place

to

place,

like

a man

who

plays

the

rebeck

and

goes

all

through

the

city

;

and

I

see

that

God

every

hour

is

filling

the

goblet

of

my gaze

with

wine,

which

I

quaff

to

His noble

countenance.

Amid

this

skin and

flesh,

as

on

every

lovely

creature

I

gaze,

God

fills

all the

parts

of

me

with

that

savour,

so

that

all

my

parts

break

into

blossom.

Such

a

gaze

is

the

means

of

bodily

health

;

but

attention

to

aught

else

leads

to

weariness

of

the

spirit

and

bodily

decline.

So

now

I

will

wash

out this impurity, and will drink other draughts. Again, I

gazed

upon

the

corner

of the skirt of

the

vast

arena

of

God's

wrath.

I

beheld

a

hundred

thousand

heads severed

from

their

trunks,

and

joints

severally

sundered.

On

the

other

side

I

see

a

hundred

thousand

strings,

and

robes,

and

songs,

and

verses,

and

poems

of

love

;

and

in another

corner

a

hundred

thousand







98

A.

J.

ARBERRY

dancing

servitors,

standing

in

ecstasy,

offering

up

with

their

several bodily hands nosegays of the spirit culled from the

garden

of

intimacy.

And

I

saw

that

all the

spirits

were

no

more

than

atoms

which

had taken

wing,

and

were

alighting

upon

God and

soring

up

from

God,

even

as

motes

restlessly

quivering

in

the

radiant

light

of

God/

Can

it

be

doubted

that

this

passage

and the

like

inspired

Rumi

to

compose

some

of

his

most

beautiful

descriptions

of

the

Dance

?

Each

atom

dancing

in

the

plain

Or

on

the

air,

Behold

it

well,

like

us,

insane

It

spinneth

there.

Each

atom,

whether

glad

it

be

Or

sorrowful,

Circleth the

sun

in

ecstasy

Ineffable.

Again,

in

another

quatrain,

Rumi

uses

the

same

imagery.

Come

forth,

day

The

motes

are

dancing

gay

;

The

spirits

in

delight

Dance

wildly

through

the

night.

Draw

near,

draw

near

I'll

whisper

in

thy

ear

His

name,

Whose

radiance

Maketh

the

sphere

to

dance.

I

will

quote

one

more

quatrain.

The

beloved

one

Shineth

like

the

sun

;

Like

a

mote

the

lover

Round

his

sun

doth

hover.

When the breath of love,

Quivering

above,

The

green

wood

entranceth,

Every

young

bough

danceth.

Another

passage

from

he

Mdarif

may

be

cited

in

illustration

of the

invention

of

the

Dance.

1

went

to

mosque

and

was

engaged

in

recollection.

I

saw

Rashid-i

Quba'i

;

his

form

would

not

depart

from

before

my

heart.

I

said,

"Friend

and

foe,

both

cling

closely

to

the

heart.

Until

I

become

estranged

from

all

but

God

I will

not

find

deliverance, neither will my heart become whole." I said, "I

will make

an

effort.

I

will

occupy my

heart

with

God,

so

that

my

heart

may

not

attend

to

anything

else."

I

saw

the

form of

my

heart

coming

before

my

gaze,

so

that

all the

while

I

was

proceeding

from

it

to

God,

alike from

its

broad

mass

and

from

all its

parts.

That

is,

I

was

proceeding

out

of

its

crimson

hue







JALSL

AL-DIN

RDmI

99

to

God,

to

see

whence

its

crimson hue

and

ruby

parts

derived

their replenishment. I saw that its every crimson part had five

senses,

clutching

hold

of

God

and

taking

replenishment

from

God

;

even

so

all the

parts

of

my

heart

were

taking replenish

ment

from

God.

I

saw

all the

parts

of the

world,

accident

and

object

alike,

and

every

thing

that

is,

lieutenants

and

treasurers

of

God,

deriving

these

replenishments

from

the

pure

intelli

gences

and

senses.

I

see

as

clear

as

the

crescent

moon

every

mental

phantasy

in

this

world,

all

surging

with

hands

and

feet

and

taking

replenishment

from

the

world

of

spirit.

Again

in

every

phantasy

I

behold

another door

is

flung

open

ad

infinitum.

Thus

it

is

realised,

if

God's

door

should be

opened,

what

marvels

I

will

see.

So first

we

proceeded

from

the

world

of

parts

to

the

world of

accidents,

then

we

proceeded

from

the

world

of accidents

to

the

world

of

intelligences

and

senses.

Then

this

world takes

replenishment

from

the

world

of

spirits,

and

the world

of

spirits

takes

replenishment

from

the world

of

God's

attributes.

Every

world

is

a

beggar

begging

from

another

world,

hands

outspread

like

a

mendicant,

hoping

to

be

given

into

its

palm

something

from

that other

world.

So

the

nearer

one comes

to

the

presence

of

God,

the

purer

that world

is

;

first

the world

of

intellect,

then

the

world of

spirit,

then

the

world

of

God's

attributes

;

then

beyond

God's

attributes

is

a

world

of

a

hundred

thousand

spirits,

surging

in

an

ecstasy

of

joy

and ease inconceivable. God's presence is ineffable and inscrut

able.

Then

I

gaze upon

every

part

of

my

heart,

how each

takes

replenishment

from

God,

each

separate

fragment spinning

around

like

a

bright

phantasm

and

tumbling

over

and

over,

snatching

survival.'

It

is

not

possible

for

me

to

follow

up

in

Rumi's

writings

the

many

passages

which

clearly

owed their

inspiration

to

such

descrip

tions

as

these.

There is

a

place

in

the

Mawaqif

of

al-Niffari

where

God

is

reported

as

saying,

'Thou

art

the

meaning

of

the

whole

of

existence.'

In

my

annotation

I

stated

that the

Arab

commentators

take

this in

the

straightforward

sense,

but

I

suggested

as an

alternative

interpretation

'

Thou

is

the

meaning

of

the

whole

of

existence.'

A

passage

in

the

Mdarif

appears

to

lend

support;

it

can

of

course

be matched

in

RumL

1

kept saying

"God."

Meditating

on

this,

said,

"O

God,

Thou

art

all

;

whither should

I

go,

and

upon

what

or whom

should

I

gaze

?

For

Thou

art

the

Witness,

and

Thyself

makest

to

witness

;

this

gaze

of

mine

travels

through

Thee,

and

travels

through

Thy

bounty,

and

travels

in

Thy

wake."

Quickly

I

efface that thought and

return

to

the "Thouness"

of

God;

similarly,

whatever

of

God's

attributes

comes

into

my

mind

I

quickly

efface and

return

to

the

Thouness

of

God.

I

say,

"If God's

Thouness

were

not,

my

own

entity

would

not

be

and I

would be

effaced.

Since

my

entity

and

my

qualities,

my

spiritual

state

and

the

breath

of

my

being

all

exist

through

Thee,

and

through

Thee

again

are

effaced,

therefore

Thou,







100 A.

J.

ARBERRY

God,

art

my

first

and

my

last Thou

art

my

Paradise

and

my

Hell; Thou art my visible and invisible.Whither shall I

gaze,

and wherewithal

shall

I

busy myself,

save

with

Thy

Thouness

?"

Therefore

the

clue

to

saying

"God"

is

to

forget

"I-ness" and

remember

the

Thouness of

God/

I have

shown

elsewhere

that the

discussion

of the

mystical

'confusion

of

persons1

was

apparently

initiated in

Islam

by

al

Bistami,

who

of

course

also

came

from north-eastern

Persia;

and

Professor

Zaehner is of the

opinion

that

he

sees

clear

Buddhist

influences

in

al-Bistami's

utterances.

I think

it

can

be

accepted

as

certain that Baha' al-DIn Walad, whose spiritual pedigree is traced

through

Ahmad

al-Ghazall,

brother

of

the

more

famous

Hujjat

al-lslam,

was

heir

to

a

long

and

continuous

tradition

of

theosophi

cal

speculation

in

the

province

of

Khurasan.

The

Mdarif

abounds

in

passages

of

arresting

vividness

and

beauty

;

I

can

do

no more

than

quote

a

few

snatches,

but

sufficient

I

hope

to

convince

that

this book

is

one

of

the

great

classics

of

mysticism.

'I

became

weary

of

recollection

and

gazing.

I

said,

"Let

me cease from gazing, and let me see where my gaze goes and

whither God

transports

it/'

I

saw

that

God

every

moment

was

giving

formto

things,

nd

multiplying

the

agonies

of

gazing,

so

that

it

was as

if

my

eyes

would

start

out

of

their

sockets,

my

brain

would

burst

forth

from

my

head,

my

blood

would

gush

from

my

veins.

Then,

when the

cloud

cleared

and

the

ice

melted,

I

discovered

a

marvellous

infinite

world.

On

one

side

I

saw

phantasy

appearing

like

a

thorn,

and

then

vanishing

again.

Perchance

it

is

not-being,

this marvellous

expansive

world

unbounded;

perchance

Paradise

and

Hell

are

annihila

tion,

and

the

inhabitants

of

Paradise

and Hell

are

annihilated.

Perchance

the

phantasy

of

joys

is

Paradise,

and

the

phantasy

of agonies in the world of not-being is Hell, whilst to be

unaware

of

both

states,

and

to

go

into

not-being,

is to

be

in

Purgatory/

1

saw

that

little

by

little

my

meditation

diminished,

nd

sleep began

to overcome

me.

I

said,

"Perchance this is

because

I

am

not

making

an

effort."

So

I

return to

meditating,

until

I

fall

asleep.

When I

am

asleep,

I

seem

to

resemble

a

tree,

for

I

am

in

the

earth.

If

whilst

sleeping

I

am

unaware,

it

is

as

though

I

am

in

not-being.

When

I

awake,

it is

as

though

I

lift

up

my

head

from

the

earth.

When

I

gaze

a

little

upon

myself,

it is

as

though

I

was

tall.

When

I

gaze

with

my

eyes

and move with my body, it is as though branches are sprouting

out

of

me.

When I

make

a

greater

effort

in

my

heart

to

meditate,

it

is

as

though

I

am

producing

blossoms.

When

I

utter

upon

my

tongue

the

remembrance

of

God,

it

is

as

though

I

am

bearing

fruit.

So veil

on

veil

is

removed;

the

greater

effort

I

make,

the

more

marvellous

are

the

things







JALSL

AL-DlN

RUM

101

that

seem

to

emerge

out

of

me;

as

though

all

these

things

are

in themouth of not-being,and not-beinghas placed itsmouth

on

my

mouth/

It

will

be

recalled

that

RQml

also

sometimes

seemed

to

himself

to

have become

a

tree.

He

that

is

my

soul's

repose

Round

my

heart

encircling

goes,

Round

my

heart

and

soul

of

bliss

He

encircling

is.

Laughing,

from

my

earthy

bed

Like a tree I liftmy head,

For

the

fount

of

living

mirth

Washes

round

my

earth.

In another

quatrain

RamI

envisages

the blossoms

of

his

mystical

tree

of

being

bearing

fruit.

This

bough

of

the clusters

sweet

Shall

bear

fruit

ne

day

;

This

falcon

of

purpose

fleet

Shall

seize

his

prey.

It cometh and passeth away.

His

image

fair

;

O

when

shall it

come

to

stay

In

my

heart

there

?

Baha'

al-Din

Walad

sometimes

speaks

in

terms

of

every

human

familiarity

f

his

encounters

with

the Divine

Beloved. 1

kissed

God,

and

tumbledwith

pod.'

Rami

can

be

equally

bold,

as

in

the

Fthi

ma

fthi.

When

a

certain

person

hears

that

in

such-and-such

a

city

there

lives

a

generous

man

who

bestows

mighty gifts

and

favours, he will naturally go there in the hope of enjoying his

share of

that

man's

bounty.

Since,

therefore,

God's

bountiful

ness

is

so

renowned

and

all

the

world

are aware

of His

graciousness,

why

do

you

not

beg

of

Him

and

hope

to

receive

from

Him

a

robe

of

honour

and

a

rich

gift

you

sit

in indolence

saying,

"If

He

wills,

He

will

give

to

me"

;

and

so

you

importune

Him

not

at

all.

The

dog,

which

is

not

endowed

with

reason

and

comprehension,

when

it

is

hungry

and

has

no

bread

comes

up

to

you

and

wags

its

tail

as

if

to

say,

"Give

me

bread,

I

have

no

bread

and

you

have

bread."

That

much

discrimination

it

possesses.

After

all,

you

are

not

less

than

a

dog,

which

is

not

content to sleep in the ashes and say, "If hewills, he will give

me

bread

of

himself",

but

it

entreats and

wags

its

tail.

So do

you

wag

your

tail,

and

desire

and

beg

of

God,

for in

the

presence

of

such

a

Giver

to

beg

is

mightily

required.'

I

hope

in due time

to

give

a

larger

selection

of

the

Maldrif%

to

show

more

satisfactorily

he

high

quality

and

originality

of

this







102

A.

J.

ARBERRY

newly

rediscovered

masterpiece

of

?afi

thought

and

expression,

and

also towork out in closer detailRami's debt to his father. In the

meantime

the

reader

is

referred

again

to

the Fihi

ma

fihi,

of

which

I

have

published

a

full

translation.*

I

would

like

to

reinark

on

the

outstanding

difference

etween Rami

and his

father.

aving

suggested

how

much

Rami

owed

to

Baha'

&l-Din

Walad,

I

must

now

add

that

the

universality

f

Rami's

genius

springs

from

ertain

qualities

which his

father

did

not

possess.

Baha' al-Din

was

an

intoxicated

mystic;

his

discourse

flows

on as

majestically

and

as

uncontrollably

as a

surging

sea.

Rami's

style,

save

in

the

Diwan-i

Shams (and that is admittedly an important exception), is

altogether

more

disciplined,

more

taut,

more

heavily

charged

with

overtones.

I

do

not

think

he

was

a

greater

practising

mystic

than

his

father,

nor

necessarily

more

learned;

but

he

was more

human,

and

above

all

far

more

humorous.

Baha'

al-Din

Walad

very

rarely

introduces

an

anecdote

to

give

point

to

his

argument;

as

readers

of the

Matknawi

are

very

well

aware,

Rami loves

to

tell

a

tale,

and often

tells

it

well.

This

punctuation

of

doctrine

with

anecdote was learned not from his father but from the study of

those

earlier

mystical

poets

of

Persia

whom

RQml

loved

;

Sana'

and

'Atfar.

Not

the

least

attractive

feature

of

the Fihi

ma

fihi?the

Matknawi

in

prose'

as

it

has

been

called?is

its

wealth

of

entertain

ing

stories,

some

of

which

RUmi

afterwards

refurnished

in

the

Matknawi.

'The

Master

said

:

Sayyid

Burhan

al-Din

Muhaqqiq,

God

sanctify

his

lofty

spirit,

declared

:

Someone

came

to

me

and

said,

"I heard

your

praises

sung

by

so-and-so."

Burhan al-Din

replied

:

"Wait

until

I

see

what

sort

of

a

man

he

is,

whether

he

is of sufficient rank to know me and to praise me. If he knows

me

only by

word

of

mouth,

then

he does

not

truly

know

me.

For

these

words do

not-endure ;

these

syllables

and

sounds

do

not

endure

;

these

lips

and

this

mouth

do

not

endure.

All

these

things

re mere

accidents.

But if

he

likewise knows

me

by

my

works and ifhe

knows

my

essential

self,

then

I know

that

he

is

able

to

praise

me

and

that

that

praise

belongs

to

me."

This

is

like

the

story

hey

tell of

a

certain

king.

This

king

entrusted

his

son

to

a

team

of

learned

men.

In due

course

they

had

taught

him the

sciences

of

astrology,

geomancy,

and

so

forth

so

that he

became

a

complete

master,

despite

his

utter

dullness ofwit and stupidity. One day theking took a ring in

his

fist

and

put

his

son

to

the

test.

"Come,

tell

me

what

I

am

holding

in

my

fist."

Published

by

John

Murray,

1961.







jalSl

al-din rumi

103

"The

thing

you

are

holding

is

round,

yellow

and

hollow",

the prince answered.

"Since

you

have

given

all

the

signs

correctly,

now

pro

nounce

what

thing

it

is",

the

king

said.

"It

must

be

a

sieve,"

the

prince

replied.

"What

?" cried

the

king,

"You

gave

correctly

all

these

minute

signs,

such

as

might

well

baffle

the minds

of men.

Out

of

all

your

powerful learning

and

knowledge

how

is

it

that this

small

point

has

escaped

you,

that

a

sieve

cannot

be

contained

in

the

fist

?"

'

Elsewhere

Rumi

is

speaking

of the

distinction

between

pro

fession and true

meaning.

"Suppose

you

have

put

a

golden

collar

on

a

dog

;

you

do

not

call

it

a

hunting

dog

by

reason

of

that

collar.

The

quality

of

being

a

hunting

dog

is

something specific

in

the

animal,

whether

it

wears

a

collar

of

gold

or

of

wool.

A

man

does

not

become

a

scholar

by

virtue

of

robe

and

turban

;

scholarship

is

a

virtue

in

his

very

essence,

and

whether

that virtue

be clothed

in

tunic

or

overcoat,

it

makes

no

difference.

Seek

for

humanity

;

that

is

the

true

purpose,

the

rest

is

merely

long-windedness.

When

the

words

are

elaborately

decorated,

the

purport

is

forgotten.

A

certain

greengrocer

was

in

love with

a

woman,

and

he

sent

message

by

the

lady's

maid:

"I

am

like

this,

am

like

that.

I

am

in

love.

I

am

on

fire

I

find

no

peace.

I

am

cruelly

treated.

I

was

like this

yesterday.

Last

night

such and

such

happened

to

me".

And

he

recited

long,

long

stories.

The

maid

came

into the

lady's

presence

and addressed

her

as

follows

:

"The

greengrocer

sends

you

greetings

and

says

:

Come,

so

that

I

may

do

this

and that

to

you."

"So

coolly

?"

the

lady

asked,

"He

spoke

at

great

length,"

answered

that

maid,

"but

this

was

the

purport."

The

purport

is

the

root

of

the

matter

;

the

rest

is

merely

a

headache.'

The

following

is the

original

form

f

a

pleasant

story

which

is

retold

in

the

Mathnam.

'A

man

shook

down

apricots

from

a

tree

and

ate

them.

The

owner of the

orchard

made

demand

of

him,

saying,

"Are

younot afraidofGod ?"

"Why

should

I fear

?"

the

man

answered.

"The

tree

belongs

to

God,

and

I

am

the

servant

of

God.

The

servant

of

God

ate

the

property

of

God."

"Wait

and

see

what

answer

I shall

give

you

" cried

the

owner.

"Fetch

a

rope

and

tie

him

to

this

tree

and

beat

him,







104

A.

J.

ARBERRY

till

the

answer

ismade

clear

"

"Are you not afraid of God ?" the man said.

"Why

should

I

be afraid

?"

replied

the

owner.

"You

are

the

servant

of

God,

and

this

is

the

stick of

God.

I

am

beating

the

servant

of

God with the stick of

God

"

'

The

Fihi

ma

fthi

contains

not

a

few

references

to

great

con

temporary

events,

notably

the

Mongol

invasions.

We find

RQmi

counselling

the

powerful

Parwanah

of Ram

to

stand

firm

n

defence

of

Islam?advice

which,

when taken

somewhat

belatedly,

cost

the

Seljak

minister

his

life. There

are

some

echoes

of

Muslim-Christian

polemic, andwe are interested o findChristians attendingRami's

circle.

'Said

al-Jarrali

the Christian

:

A

number of

the

companions

of

Shaykh

?adr

al-Dm

drank

with

me,

and

they

said

to

me :

"Jesus

is

God,

as

you

assert.

We

confess

that

to

be

the

truth,

but

we

conceal

and

deny

it,

intending

thereby

to

preserve

the

Community."

The Master

said:The

enemy

of

God

has

lied

God

forbid

These

are

the

words

of

one

drunken with the

wine of

Satan

the

misguider,

the

humiliated,

the

humiliating,

driven

from

the

Presence of God. How could it be that a frailbody, fleeing

from the

Jews'

plotting

from

place

to

place,

whose

form

was

less than

two

cubits,

should

be

the

preserver

of

the

seven

heavens,

the

thickness

of

each

of

which

is

a

distance

of

five

hundred

years,

and

the

thickness

of

each

heaven

to

the

next

a

distance

of

five hundred

years.'

And

so on

;

yet

in

another

passage

we

find

Rami

saying

to

his

disciples,

'If

you

cannot

go

by

the

Muhammadan

way,

at

least

go

by

the

way

of

Jesus,

that

you

may

not

remain

altogether

outside

the

pale*.

This

dictum

occurs

in

a

discussion

of

the

famous

Tradition,

'There is no monkhood in Islam' j

V^j

^

);

the

text

is

explained

as

follows

:

'The

way

of

monks

was

solitude,

dwelling

in

mountains and

not

taking

women,

giving

up

the

world.

God

most

High

and

Mighty

indicated

to

the

Prophet

a

strait

and

hidden

way.

What

is

that

way

?

To

wed

women,

so

that

he

might

endure

the

tyranny

of

women

and

hear

their

bsurdities,

for

them

to

ride

roughshod

over

him,

and

so

for

him

to

refine

his own

character.

By

enduring

and

putting

up

with

the

tyranny

of

women,

it

is

as

though

you

rub

off

your

own

impurity

on

them.

Your character becomes good through forbearance, their

character becomes

bad

through

domineering

and

aggression.

That

is

the

difference

between

a

woman

and

a

scholar.

Whether

you

speak

to

a

woman

or

do not

speak,

she

remains

still

the

same

and

will

not

abandon

her

ways

;words

have

no

effect

on

her,

indeed

she

becomes

worse.

If

she

has

in

her

the

natural







jalSl

al-dIn

rDmI

105

quality

not

to want

to

do

an

evil

deed,

whether

you

prevent

her or not she will proceed according to her good temperament

and

pure

constitution.

So

be

easy

in

mind,

and

be

not

troubled.

If

she

is

the

opposite,

still

she

will

go

her

own

way

;

preventing

her in

reality

does

nothing

but

increase her

eagerness.'

The Fihi

ma

fihi

contains

many

startling

paradoxes,

none

perhaps

more

arresting

than the

statement

that 'Hell is

the

mosque

of unbelievers.'

Elsewhere

this

assertion

is

explained

in

more

detail.

'The

inhabitants

f

Hell

will be

happier

in

Hell

than in

the

world,

because

in

Hell

they

will

be

aware

of

God

whereas

in

the world

they

are

not

aware

;

and

nothing

can

be sweeter

than awareness of God. So the fact that they desire to return

to

the

world

is

in order

that

they

may

do

something

whereby

they

may

become

aware

of

the

manifestation

of

Divine

grace,

not

because

the

world

is

a

happier

place

than

Hell.

Hypocrites

are

consigned

to

the

lowest

reach

of Hell because

faith

came

to

the

hypocrite

but

his unbelief

was

strong

nd

so

he

did

nothing;

his

punishment

will

be

more

severe

so

that

he

may

become

aware

of God.

To

the

unbeliever faith

did

not come

;

his

unbelief

is

weak,

and

so

he will become

aware

through

a

less

punishment.

So,

as

between

the breeches

that

have

dust

upon

them

and the

carpet

that

has dust

upon

it,

in

the

case

of

the

trousers

it

is sufficient

for

one

person

to

shake

them

a

little

for

them

to

become

clean,

whereas

it

takes

four

persons

shaking

the

carpet

violently

for

the dust

to

leave

it.'

What

research

lies ahead

?

Clearly

a

very

great

programme,

far

exceeding

the

potentialities

of the

exiguous

handful

of

scholars

at

present

working

in

isolation

on

parts

of

the

task.

One

part,

and

a

tedious

but

vitally

essential

part,

is

the

publication

of those

other

texts still

buried

in

libraries,

and

they

are

not

few,

which

constitute

the

absolutely indispensable

raw

materials

upon

which

real

progress

towards

the

elucidation

of

many

problems

depends.

It

is

better

on

all

counts

that

these

texts

should

in

future

be

printed

in

the

East,

and

that

the

editing

should

be done

by

Eastern

scholars;

though

the kind

of

collaboration

which

has

been

achieved

by

Henry

Corbin

and Muhammad

Moin would

be

an

ideal

arrangement;

such

admirable

teamwork

is,

however, exceedingly

rare.

In

the

second

place,

much

translation

and

interpretation

must

be

carried

through

to

release these

writings

to

students

of

comparative

religion,

if

not to

those

whose minds

are

not

closed

to

pure

litera

ture. Thirdly thereremainsthat broad and systematic nvestigation

of

the

intellectual

and

religious

history

of

north-eastern Persia,

and

its

relations

with other

parts

of

the

world,

so

that

we

may

at

last

know

more

about

the

background

to

the

emergence

of

the

unique

genius

of

Jalal

ai-DIn

RamI,

Documents

Jalāl Al-dīn Rūmī