“… Such is the divinity that doth hedge a throne in Persia, that not merely does the Sháh never attend at state dinners or eat with his subjects at table, with the exception of a single banquet to his principal male relatives at Naw-Rúz, but the attitude and language employed towards him even by his confidential ministers are those of servile obeisance and adulation. ‘May I be your sacrifice, Asylum of the Universe,’ is the common mode of address adopted even by subjects of the highest rank. In his own surrounding there is no one to tell him the truth or to give him dispassionate counsel. The foreign Ministers are probably almost the only source from which he learns facts as they are, or receives unvarnished, even if interested, advice. With the best intentions in the world for the undertaking of great plans and for the amelioration of his country, he has little or no control over the execution of an enterprise which has once passed out of his hands and has become the sport of corrupt and self-seeking officials. Half the money voted with his consent never reaches its destination, but sticks to every intervening pocket with which a professional ingenuity can bring it into transient contact; half the schemes authorised by him are never brought any nearer to realisation, the minister or functionary in charge trusting to the oblivious caprices of the sovereign to overlook his dereliction of duty.

“… Only a century ago the abominable system prevailed of blinding possible aspirants to the throne, of savage mutilations and life-long captivities, of wanton slaughter and systematic bloodshed. Disgrace was not less sudden than promotion, and death was a frequent concomitant of disgrace.

“… Fatḥ-‘Alí Sháh … and his successors after him, have proved so extraordinarily prolific of male offspring that the continuity of the dynasty has been assured; and there is probably not a reigning family in the world that in the space of one hundred years has swollen to such ample dimensions as the royal race of Persia…. Neither in the number of his wives nor in the extent of his progeny, can the Sháh, although undeniably a family man, be compared with his great-grandfather, Fatḥ-‘Alí Sháh. To the high opinion universally held of the domestic capacities of that monarch must, I imagine, be attributed the divergent estimates that are to be found, in works about Persia, of the number of his concubines and children. Colonel Drouville, in 1813, credits him with 700 wives, 64 sons, and 125 daughters. Colonel Stuart, who was in Persia in the year after Fatḥ-‘Alí’s death, gives him 1,000 wives and 105 children…. Madame Dieulafoy also names the 5,000 descendants, but as existing at an epoch fifty years later (which has an air of greater probability)…. The estimate which appears in the Násikhu’t-Taváríkh, a great modern Persian historical work, fixes the number of Fatḥ-‘Alí’s wives as over 1,000, and of his offspring as 260, 110 of whom survived their father. Hence the familiar Persian proverb ‘Camels, fleas, and princes exist everywhere.’ … No royal family has ever afforded a more exemplary illustration of the Scriptural assurance, ‘Instead of thy fathers thou shalt have children, whom thou mayest make princes in all lands’; for there was scarcely a governorship or a post of emolument in Persia that was not filled by one of this beehive of princelings; and to this day the myriad brood of Sháh-zádihs, or descendants of a king, is a perfect curse to the country, although many of these luckless scions of royalty, who consume a large portion of the revenue in annual allowances and pensions, now occupy very inferior positions as telegraph clerks, secretaries, etc. Fraser drew a vivid picture of the misery entailed upon the country fifty years ago (1842) by this ‘race of royal drones,’ who filled the governing posts not merely of every province, but of every buluk or district, city, and town; each of whom kept up a court, and a huge harem, and who preyed upon the country like a swarm of locusts…. Fraser, passing through Ádhirbáyján in 1834, and observing the calamitous results of the system under which Fatḥ-‘Alí Sháh distributed his colossal male progeny in every Government post throughout the kingdom, remarked: ‘The most obvious consequence of this state of affairs is a thorough and universal detestation of the Qájár race, which is a prevalent feeling in every heart and the theme of every tongue.’

“… Just as, in the course of his [Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh’s] European travels, he picked up a vast number of what appeared, to the Eastern mind, to be wonderful curiosities, but which have since been stacked in the various apartments of the palace, or put away and forgotten; so in the larger sphere of public policy and administration he is continually taking up and pushing some new scheme or invention which, when the caprice has been gratified, is neglected or allowed to expire. One week it is gas; another it is electric lights. Now it is a staff college; anon, a military hospital. To-day it is a Russian uniform; yesterday it was a German man-of-war for the Persian Gulf. A new army warrant is issued this year; a new code of law is promised for the next. Nothing comes of any of these brilliant schemes, and the lumber-rooms of the palace are not more full of broken mechanism and discarded bric-à-brac than are the pigeon-holes of the government bureaux of abortive reforms and dead fiascoes.

“… In an upper chamber of the same pavilion, Mírzá Abu’l-Qásim, the Qá’im-Maqám, or Grand Vazír, of Muḥammad Sháh (the father of the present monarch), was strangled in 1835, by order of his royal master, who therein followed an example set him by his predecessor, and set one himself that was duly followed by his son. It must be rare in history to find three successive sovereigns who have put to death, from jealous motives only, the three ministers who have either raised them to the throne or were at the time of their fall filling the highest office in the State. Such is the triple distinction of Fatḥ-‘Alí, Muḥammad, and Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháhs.”

B. The Government

“In a country so backward in constitutional progress, so destitute of forms and statutes and charters, and so firmly stereotyped in the immemorial traditions of the East, the personal element, as might be expected, is largely in the ascendant; and the government of Persia is little else than the arbitrary exercise of authority by a series of units in a descending scale from the sovereign to the headman of a petty village. The only check that operates upon the lower official grades is the fear of their superiors, which means can usually be found to assuage; upon the higher ranks the fear of the sovereign, who is not always closed against similar methods of pacification; and upon the sovereign himself the fear, not of native, but of foreign opinion, as represented by the hostile criticism of the European Press…. The Sháh, indeed, may be regarded at this moment as perhaps the best existing specimen of a moderate despot; for within the limits indicated he is practically irresponsible and omnipotent. He has absolute command over the life and property of every one of his subjects. His sons have no independent power, and can be reduced to impotence or beggary in the twinkling of an eye. The ministers are elevated and degraded at the royal pleasure. The sovereign is the sole executive, and all officials are his deputies. No civil tribunals are in existence to check or modify his prerogative.

“… Of the general character and accomplishments of the ministers of the Persian Court, Sir J. Malcolm, in his History, wrote as follows in the early years of the century: ‘The Ministers and chief officers of the Court are almost always men of polished manners, well skilled in the business of their respective departments, of pleasant conversation, subdued temper, and very acute observation; but these agreeable and useful qualities are, in general, all that they possess. Nor is virtue or liberal knowledge to be expected in men whose lives are wasted in attending to forms; whose means of subsistence are derived from the most corrupt sources; whose occupation is in intrigues which have always the same objects: to preserve themselves or ruin others; who cannot, without danger, speak any language but that of flattery and deceit; and who are, in short, condemned by their condition to be venal, artful, and false. There have, no doubt, been many ministers of Persia whom it would be injustice to class under this general description; but even the most distinguished for their virtues and talents have been forced in some degree to accommodate their principles to their station; and, unless where the confidence of their sovereign has placed them beyond the fear of rivals, necessity has compelled them to practise a subserviency and dissimulation at variance with the truth and integrity which can alone constitute a claim to the respect all are disposed to grant to good and great men.’ These observations are marked by the insight and justice characteristic of their distinguished author, and it is to be feared that to a large extent they hold as good of the present as of the old generation.”

C. The People

“… I now come to that which is the cardinal and differentiating feature of Iranian administration. Government, nay, life itself, in that country may be said to consist for the most part of an interchange of presents. Under its social aspects this practice may be supposed to illustrate the generous sentiments of an amiable people; though even here it has a grimly unemotional side, as, for instance, when, congratulating yourself upon being the recipient of a gift, you find that not only must you make a return of equivalent cost to the donor, but must also liberally remunerate the bearer of the gift (to whom your return is very likely the sole recognised means of subsistence) in a ratio proportionate to its pecuniary value. Under its political aspects, the practice of gift-making, though consecrated in the adamantine traditions of the East, is synonymous with the system elsewhere described by less agreeable names. This is the system on which the government of Persia has been conducted for centuries, and the maintenance of which opposes a solid barrier to any real reform. From the Sháh downwards, there is scarcely an official who is not open to gifts, scarcely a post which is not conferred in return for gifts, scarcely an income which has not been amassed by the receipt of gifts. Every individual, with hardly an exception, in the official hierarchy above mentioned, has only purchased his post by a money present either to the Sháh, or to a minister, or to the superior governor by whom he has been appointed. If there are several candidates for a post, in all probability the one who makes the best offer will win.

“… The ‘madákhil’ is a cherished national institution in Persia, the exaction of which, in a myriad different forms, whose ingenuity is only equalled by their multiplicity, is the crowning interest and delight of a Persian’s existence. This remarkable word, for which Mr. Watson says there is no precise English equivalent, may be variously translated as commission, perquisite, douceur, consideration, pickings and stealings, profit, according to the immediate context in which it is employed. Roughly speaking, it signifies that balance of personal advantage, usually expressed in money form, which can be squeezed out of any and every transaction. A negotiation, in which two parties are involved as donor and recipient, as superior and subordinate, or even as equal contracting agents, cannot take place in Persia without the party who can be represented as the author or the favour or service claiming and receiving a definite cash return for what he has done or given. It may of course be said that human nature is much the same all the world over; that a similar system exists under a different name in our own or other countries, and that the philosophic critic will welcome in the Persian a man and a brother. To some extent this is true. But in no country that I have ever seen or heard of in the world, is the system so open, so shameless, or so universal as in Persia. So far from being limited to the sphere of domestic economy or to commercial transactions, it permeates every walk and inspires most of the actions of life. By its operation, generosity or gratuitous service may be said to have been erased in Persia from the category of social virtues, and cupidity has been elevated into the guiding principle of human conduct…. Hereby is instituted an arithmetical progression of plunder from the sovereign to the subject, each unit in the descending scale remunerating himself from the unit next in rank below him, and the hapless peasant being the ultimate victim. It is not surprising, under these circumstances, that office is the common avenue to wealth, and that cases are frequent of men who, having started from nothing, are found residing in magnificent houses, surrounded by crowds of retainers and living in princely style. ‘Make what you can while you can’ is the rule that most men set before themselves in entering public life. Nor does popular spirit resent the act; the estimation of any one who, enjoying the opportunity, has failed to line his own pockets, being the reverse of complimentary to his sense. No one turns a thought to the sufferers from whom, in the last resort, the material for these successive ‘madákhils’ has been derived, and from the sweat of whose uncomplaining brow has been wrung the wealth that is dissipated in luxurious country houses, European curiosities, and enormous retinues.

“… Among the features of public life in Persia that most quickly strike the stranger’s eye, and that indirectly arise from the same conditions, is the enormous number of attendants and retainers that swarm round a minister, or official of any description. In the case of a functionary of rank or position, these vary in number from 50 to 500. Benjamin says that the Prime Minister in his time kept 3,000. Now, the theory of social and ceremonial etiquette that prevails in Persia, and indeed throughout the East, is to some extent responsible for this phenomenon, personal importance being, to a large extent, estimated by the public show which it can make, and by the staff of servants whom on occasions it can parade. But it is the institution of ‘Madákhil’ and of illicit pickings and stealings that is the root of the evil. If the governor or minister were bound to pay salaries to the whole of this servile crew their ranks would speedily dwindle. The bulk of them are unpaid; they attach themselves to their master because of the opportunities for extortion with which that connection presents them, and they thrive and fatten on plunder. It may readily be conceived how great a drain is this swarm of blood-suckers upon the resources of the country. They are true types of unproductive labourers, absorbing but never creating wealth; and their existence is little short of a national calamity…. It is a cardinal point of Persian etiquette when you go out visiting to take as many of your own establishment with you as possible, whether riding or walking on foot; the number of such retinue being accepted as an indication of the rank of the master.”

D. The Ecclesiastical Order

“Marvellously adapted alike to the climate, character, and occupations of those countries upon which it has laid its adamantine grip, Islám holds its votary in complete thrall from the cradle to the grave. To him, it is not only religion, it is government, philosophy, and science as well. The Muḥammadan conception is not so much that of a state church as, if the phrase may be permitted, of a church state. The undergirders with which society itself is warped round are not of civil, but of ecclesiastical, fabrication; and, wrapped in this superb, if paralysing, creed, the Musulmán lives in contented surrender of all volition, deems it his highest duty to worship God and to compel, or, where impossible, to despise those who do not worship Him in the spirit, and then dies in sure and certain hope of Paradise.

“… These Siyyids, or descendants of the Prophet, are an intolerable nuisance to the country, deducing from their alleged descent and from the prerogative of the green turban, the right to an independence and insolence of bearing from which their countrymen, no less than foreigners, are made to suffer.

“… As a community, the Persian Jews are sunk in great poverty and ignorance…. Throughout the Musulmán countries of the East these unhappy people have been subjected to the persecution which custom has taught themselves, as well as the world, to regard as their normal lot. Usually compelled to live apart in a Ghetto, or separate quarter of the towns, they have from time immemorial suffered from disabilities of occupation, dress, and habits, which have marked them out as social pariahs from their fellow-creatures…. In Iṣfahán, where there are said to be 3,700, and where they occupy a relatively better status than elsewhere in Persia, they are not permitted to wear the ‘kuláh’ or Persian head-dress, to have shops in the bazaar, to build the walls of their houses as high as a Muslim neighbour’s, or to ride in the streets…. As soon, however, as any outburst of bigotry takes place in Persia or elsewhere, the Jews are apt to be the first victims. Every man’s hand is then against them; and woe betide the luckless Hebrew who is the first to encounter a Persian street mob.

“… Perhaps the most extraordinary feature of Mashhad life, before I leave the subject of the shrine and the pilgrims, is the provision that is made for the material solace of the latter during their stay in the city. In recognition of the long journeys which they have made, of the hardships which they have sustained, and of the distances by which they are severed from family and home, they are permitted, with the connivance of the ecclesiastical law and its officers, to contract temporary marriages during their sojourn in the city. There is a large permanent population of wives suitable for the purpose. A mullá is found, under whose sanction a contract is drawn up and formally sealed by both parties, a fee is paid, and the union is legally accomplished. After the lapse of a fortnight or a month, or whatever be the specified period, the contract terminates; the temporary husband returns to his own lares et penates in some distant clime, and the lady, after an enforced celibacy of fourteen days’ duration, resumes her career of persevering matrimony. In other words, a gigantic system of prostitution, under the sanction of the Church, prevails in Mashhad. There is probably not a more immoral city in Asia; and I should be sorry to say how many of the unmurmuring pilgrims who traverse seas and lands to kiss the grating of the Imám’s tomb are not also encouraged and consoled upon their march by the prospect of an agreeable holiday and what might be described in the English vernacular as ‘a good spree.’”

Conclusion

“Before I quit the subject of the Persian law and its administration, let me add a few words upon the subject of penalties and prisons. Nothing is more shocking to the European reader, in pursuing his way through the crime-stained and bloody pages of Persian history during the last and, in a happily less degree, during the present century, than the record of savage punishments and abominable tortures, testifying alternately to the callousness of the brute and the ingenuity of the fiend. The Persian character has ever been fertile in device and indifferent to suffering; and in the field of judicial executions it has found ample scope for the exercise of both attainments. Up till quite a recent period, well within the borders of the present reign, condemned criminals have been crucified, blown from guns, buried alive, impaled, shod like horses, torn asunder by being bound to the heads of two trees bent together and then allowed to spring back to their natural position, converted into human torches, flayed while living.

“… Under a twofold governing system, such as that of which I have now completed the description — namely, an administration in which every actor is, in different aspects, both the briber and the bribed; and a judicial procedure, without either a law or a law court — it will readily be understood that confidence in the Government is not likely to exist, that there is no personal sense of duty or pride of honour, no mutual trust or co-operation (except in the service of ill-doing), no disgrace in exposure, no credit in virtue, above all no national spirit or patriotism. Those philosophers are right who argue that moral must precede material, and internal exterior, reform in Persia. It is useless to graft new shoots on to a stem whose own sap is exhausted or poisoned. We may give Persia roads and railroads; we may work her mines and exploit her resources; we may drill her army and clothe her artisans; but we shall not have brought her within the pale of civilised nations until we have got at the core of the people, and given a new and a radical twist to the national character and institutions. I have drawn this picture of Persian administration, which I believe to be true, in order that English readers may understand the system with which reformers, whether foreigners or natives, have to contend, and the iron wall of resistance, built up by all the most selfish instincts in human nature, that is opposed to progressive ideas. The Sháh himself, however genuine his desire for innovation, is to some extent enlisted on the side of this pernicious system, seeing that he owes to it his private fortune; while those who most loudly condemn it in private are not behind their fellows in outwardly bowing their heads in the temple of Rimmon. In every rank below the sovereign, the initiative is utterly wanting to start a rebellion against the tyranny of immemorial custom; and if a strong man like the present king can only tentatively undertake it, where is he who shall preach the crusade?”

(Extracts from Lord Curzon’s “Persia and the Persian Question.”)

BAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S TRIBUTE TO THE BÁB AND HIS CHIEF DISCIPLES

Extracts from the Kitáb-i-Íqán

“Though young and tender of age, and though the Cause He revealed was contrary to the desire of all the peoples of the earth, both high and low, rich and poor, exalted and abased, king and subject, yet He arose and steadfastly proclaimed it. All have known and heard this. He feared no one; He was reckless of consequences. Could such a thing be made manifest except through the power of a Divine Revelation, and the potency of God’s invincible Will? By the righteousness of God! Were anyone to entertain so great a Revelation in his heart, the thought of such a declaration would alone confound him! Were the hearts of all men to be crowded into his heart, he would still hesitate to venture upon so awful an enterprise. He could achieve it only by the permission of God, only if the channel of his heart were to be linked with the Source of Divine grace, and his soul be assured of the unfailing sustenance of the Almighty. To what, We wonder, do they ascribe so great a daring? Do they accuse Him of madness as they accused the Prophets of old? Or do they maintain that His motive was none other than leadership and the acquisition of earthly riches?

“Gracious God! In His Book, which He hath entitled ‘Qayyúmu’l-Asmá’’ — the first, the greatest, and mightiest of all books — He prophesied His own martyrdom. In it is this passage: ‘O Thou Remnant of God! I have sacrificed myself wholly for Thee; I have accepted curses for Thy sake; and have yearned for naught but martyrdom in the path of Thy love. Sufficient Witness unto me is God, the Exalted, the Protector, the Ancient of Days!’

“… Could the Revealer of such utterance be regarded as walking in any other way than the way of God, and as having yearned for aught else except His good pleasure? In this very verse there lieth concealed a breath of detachment for which, if it were breathed upon the world, all beings would renounce their life, and sacrifice their soul.

“… And now consider how this Sadrih of the Riḍván of God hath, in the prime of youth, risen to proclaim the Cause of God. Behold, what steadfastness He, the Beauty of God, hath revealed! The whole world rose to hinder Him, yet it utterly failed! The more severe the persecution they inflicted on that Sadrih of Blessedness, the more His fervour increased, and the brighter burned the flame of His love. All this is evident, and none disputeth its truth. Finally, He surrendered His soul, and winged His flight unto the realms above.

“… No sooner had that eternal Beauty revealed Himself in Shíráz, in the year sixty, and rent asunder the veil of concealment, than the signs of the ascendancy, the might, the sovereignty, and power emanating from that Essence of Essences and Sea of Seas, were manifest in every land. So much so, that from every city there appeared the signs, the evidences, the tokens, and testimonies of that Divine Luminary. How many were those pure and kindly hearts which faithfully reflected the light of that eternal Sun! And how manifold the emanations of knowledge from that Ocean of Divine Wisdom which encompassed all beings! ln every city, all the divines and nobles rose to hinder and repress them, and girded up the loins of malice, of envy, and tyranny for their suppression. How great the number of those holy souls, those essences of justice, who, accused of tyranny, were put to death! And how many embodiments of purity, who showed forth naught but true knowledge and stainless deeds, suffered an agonising death! Notwithstanding all this, each of these holy beings, up to his last moment, breathed the name of God and soared in the realm of submission and resignation. Such was the potency and transmuting influence which He exercised over them, that they ceased to cherish any desire but His Will, and wedded their souls to His remembrance.

“Reflect: Who in the world is able to manifest such transcendent power, such pervading influence? All these stainless hearts and sanctified souls have, with absolute resignation, responded to the summons of His decree. Instead of making complaint, they rendered thanks unto God, and, amidst the darkness of their anguish, they revealed naught but radiant acquiescence in His Will. It is well known how relentless was the hate, and how bitter the malice and enmity, entertained by all the peoples of the earth towards these Companions. The persecution and pain which they inflicted on these holy and spiritual beings were regarded by them as means unto salvation, prosperity, and everlasting success. Hath the world, since the days of Adam, witnessed such tumult, such violent commotion? Notwithstanding all the torture they suffered, and the manifold afflictions they endured, they became the object of universal opprobrium and execration. Methinks, patience was revealed only by virtue of their fortitude, and faithfulness itself was begotten by their deeds.

“Do thou ponder these momentous happenings in thine heart, so that thou mayest apprehend the greatness of this Revelation, and perceive its stupendous glory.”

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES OF SHÍ‘AH ISLÁM

“The cardinal point wherein the Shí‘ahs (as well as the other sects included under the more general term of Imámites) differ from the Sunnís is the doctrine of the Imámate. According to the belief of the latter, the vicegerency of the Prophet (Khiláfat) is a matter to be determined by the choice and election of his followers, and the visible head of the Musulmán world is qualified for the lofty position which he holds less by any special divine grace than by a combination of orthodoxy and administrative capacity. According to the Imámite view, on the other hand, the vicegerency is a matter altogether spiritual; an office conferred by God alone, first by His Prophet, and afterwards by those who so succeeded him, and having nothing to do with the popular choice or approval. In a word, the Khalífih of the Sunnís is merely the outward and visible Defender of the Faith: the Imám of the Shí‘ahs is the divinely ordained successor of the Prophet, one endowed with all perfections and spiritual gifts, one whom all the faithful must obey, whose decision is absolute and final, whose wisdom is superhuman, and whose words are authoritative. The general term Imámate is applicable to all who hold this latter view without reference to the way in which they trace the succession, and therefore includes such sects as the Báqirís and Ismá‘ílís as well as the Shí‘ah or ‘Church of the Twelve’ (Madhhab-i-Ithná-‘Asharíyyih), as they are more specifically termed, with whom alone we are here concerned. According to these, twelve persons successively held the office of Imám. These twelve are as follows:

1. ‘Alí-ibn-i-Abí-Ṭálib, the cousin and first disciple of the Prophet, assassinated by Ibn-i-Muljam at Kúfih, A.H. 40 (A.D. 661).
2. Ḥasan, son of ‘Alí and Fáṭimih, born A.H. 2, poisoned by order of Mu‘ávíyih I, A.H. 50 (A.D. 670).
3. Ḥusayn, son of ‘Alí and Fáṭimih, born A.H. 4, killed at Karbilá on Muḥarram 10, A.H. 61 (Oct. 10, A.D. 680).
4. ‘Alí, son of Ḥusayn and Shahribánú (daughter of Yazdigird, the last Sásáníyán king), generally called Imám Zaynu’l-‘Ábidín, poisoned by Valíd.
5. Muḥammad-Báqir, son of the above-mentioned Zaynu’l-‘Ábidín and his cousin Umm-i-‘Abdu’lláh, the daughter of Imám Ḥasan, poisoned by Ibráhím ibn-i-Valíd.
6. Ja‘far-i-Ṣádiq, son of Imám Muḥammad-Báqir, poisoned by order of Manṣúr, the ‘Abbáside Khalífih.
7. Músá-Káẓim, son of Imám Ja‘far-i-Ṣádiq, born A.H. 129, poisoned by order of Hárúnu’r-Rashíd, A.H. 183.
8. ‘Alí-ibn-i-Músá’r-Riḍá, generally called Imám Riḍá, born A.H. 153, poisoned near Ṭús, in Khurásán, by order of the Khalífih Ma’mún, A.H. 203, and buried at Mashhad, which derives its name and its sanctity from him.
9. Muḥammad-Taqí, son of Imám Riḍá, born A.H. 195, poisoned by the Khalífih Mu‘taṣim at Baghdád, A.H. 220.
10. ‘Alí-Naqí, son of Imám Muḥammad-Taqí, born A.H. 213, poisoned at Surra-man-Ra’á, A.H. 254.
11. Ḥasan-i-‘Askarí, son of Imám ‘Alí-Naqí, born A.H. 232, poisoned A.H. 260.
12. Muḥammad, son of Imám Ḥasan-i-‘Askarí and Nargis-Khátún, called by the Shí‘ahs ‘Imám-Mihdí,’ ‘Ḥujjatu’lláh’ (the Proof of God), ‘Baqíyyatu’lláh’ (the Remnant of God), and ‘Qá’im-i-Ál-i-Muḥammad’ (He who shall arise of the family of Muḥammad). He bore not only the same name but the same kunyih — Abu’l-Qásim — as the Prophet, and according to the Shí‘ahs it is not lawful for any other to bear this name and this kunyih together. He was born at Surra-man-Ra’á, A.H. 255, and succeeded his father in the Imámate, A.H. 260.

“The Shí‘ahs hold that he did not die, but disappeared in an underground passage in Surra-man-Ra’á, A.H. 329; that he still lives, surrounded by a chosen band of his followers, in one of those mysterious cities, Jábulqá and Jábulṣá; and that when the fulness of time is come, when the earth is filled with injustice, and the faithful are plunged in despair, he will come forth, heralded by Jesus Christ, overthrow the infidels, establish universal peace and justice, and inaugurate a millennium of blessedness. During the whole period of his Imámate, i.e. from A.H. 260 till the present day, the Imám Mihdí has been invisible and inaccessible to the mass of his followers, and this is what is signified by the term ‘Occultation’ (Ghaybat). After assuming the functions of Imám and presiding at the burial of his father and predecessor, the Imám Ḥasan-i-‘Askarí, he disappeared from the sight of all save a chosen few, who, one after the other, continued to act as channels of communication between him and his followers. These persons were known as ‘Gates’ (Abváb). The first of them was Abú-‘Umar-‘Uthmán ibn-i-Sa‘íd ‘Umarí; the second Abú-Ja‘far Muḥammad-ibn-i-‘Uthmán, son of the above; the third Ḥusayn-ibn-i-Rúḥ Naw-bakhtí; the fourth Abu’l-Ḥasan ‘Alí-ibn-i-Muḥammad Símarí. Of these ‘Gates’ the first was appointed by the Imám Ḥasan-i-‘Askarí, the others by the then acting ‘Gate’ with the sanction and approval of the Imám Mihdí. This period — extending over 69 years — during which the Imám was still accessible by means of the ‘Gates,’ is known as the ‘Lesser’ or ‘Minor Occultation’ (Ghaybat-i-Ṣughrá). This was succeeded by the ‘Greater’ or ‘Major Occultation’ (Ghaybat-i-Kubrá). When Abu’l-Ḥasan ‘Alí, the last of the ‘Gates,’ drew near to his latter end, he was urged by the faithful (who contemplated with despair the prospect of complete severance from the Imám) to nominate a successor. This, however, he refused to do, saying, ‘God hath a purpose which He will accomplish.’ So on his death all communication between the Imám and his Church ceased, and the ‘Major Occultation’ began and shall continue until the Return of the Imám takes place in the fulness of time.”

(Excerpt from “A Traveller’s Narrative,” Note O, pp. 296–99.)

GENEALOGY OF THE PROPHET MUḤAMMAD

(Quraysh, ‘Abd-i-Manáf, Háshim, ‘Abdu’sh-Shams, ‘Abdu’l-Muṭṭálib, ‘Abdu’lláh, Abú-Tálib, ‘Abbás, MUḤAMMAD, Fáṭimih, ‘Alí, ‘Abbás, ‘Abbásíd Caliphs, Ḥasan, Ḥusayn, Umayyih, Umayyid Caliphs)

The Dawn-Breakers

Umayyad Caliphs, 661–749 A.D.
‘Abbásíd Caliphs, 749–1258 A.D
Fáṭimite Caliphs, 1258–1517 A.D.
Ottoman Caliphs, 1517–19 A.D.
Birth of Muḥammad, August 20th, 570 A.D.
Declaration of His Mission, 613–14 A.D.
His flight to Medina, 622 A.D.
Abú-Bakri’ṣ-Ṣiddíq-ibn-i-Abí-Quḥáfih, 632–34 A.D.
‘Umar-ibn-i’l-Khaṭṭáb 634–44 A.D.
‘Uthmán-ibn-i-‘Affán, 644–56 A.D.
‘Alí-ibn-i-Abí-Ṭálib, 656–61 A.D.

THEORY AND ADMINISTRATION OF LAW IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

“… The law in Persia, and, indeed, among Musulmán peoples in general, consists of two branches: the religious, and the common law; that which is based upon the Muḥammadan Scriptures, and that which is based on precedent; that which is administered by ecclesiastical, and that which is administered by civil tribunals. In Persia, the former is known as the Shar‘, the latter as the ‘Urf. From the two is evolved a jurisprudence which, although in no sense scientific, is yet reasonably practical in application and is roughly accommodated to the needs and circumstances of those for whom it is dispensed. The basis of authority in the case of the Shar‘, or Ecclesiastical Law, consists of the utterances of the Prophet in the Qur’án; of the opinions of the Twelve Holy Imáms, whose voice in the judgment of the Shí‘ah Muḥammadans is of scarcely inferior weight; and of the commentaries of a school of pre-eminent ecclesiastical jurists. The latter have played much the same part in adding to the volume of the national jurisprudence that the famous juris consulti did with the Common Law of Rome, or the Talmudic commentators with the Hebrew system. The body of law so framed has been roughly codified and divided into four heads, dealing respectively with religious rites and duties, with contracts and obligations, with personal affairs, and with sumptuary rules and judicial procedure. This law is administered by an ecclesiastical court, consisting of mullás, i.e. lay priests and mujtahids, i.e. learned doctors of the law, assisted sometimes by qáḍís or judges, and under the presidency of an official, known as the Shaykhu’l-Islám, one of whom is, as a rule, appointed to every large city by the sovereign. In olden days, the chief of this ecclesiastical hierarchy was the Ṣadru’ṣ-Ṣudúr, or Pontifex Maximus, a dignitary who was chosen by the king and placed over the entire priesthood and judicial bench of the kingdom. But this office was abolished in his anti-clerical campaign by Nádir Sháh, and has never been renewed. In smaller centres of population and villages, the place of this court is taken by the local mullá or mullás, who, for a consideration, are always ready with a text from the Qur’án. In the case of the higher courts, the decision is invariably written out, along with the citation from the Scriptures, or the commentators, upon which it is based. Cases of extreme importance are referred to the more eminent mujtahids, of whom there is never a large number, who gain their position solely by eminent learning or abilities, ratified by the popular approval, and whose decisions are seldom impugned…. In works upon the theory of the law in Persia, it is commonly written that criminal cases are decided by the ecclesiastical, and civil cases by the secular, courts. In practice, however, there is no such clear distinction; the functions and the prerogative of the co-ordinate benches vary at different epochs, and appear to be a matter of accident or choice rather than of necessity; and at the present time, though criminal cases of difficulty may be submitted to the ecclesiastical court, yet it is with civil matters that they are chiefly concerned. Questions of heresy or sacrilege are naturally referred to them; they also take cognisance of adultery and divorce; and intoxication as an offence, not against the common law (indeed, if it were a matter of precedent, insobriety could present the highest credentials in Persia), but against the Qur’án, falls within the scope of their judgment….

“From the Shar‘, I pass to the ‘Urf, or Common Law. Nominally this is based on oral tradition, on precedent, and on custom. As such, it varies in different parts of the country. But, there being no written or recognised code, it is found to vary still more in practice according to the character or caprice of the individual who administers it…. The administrators of the ‘Urf are the civil magistrates throughout the kingdom, there being no secular court or bench of judges after the Western model. In a village the case will be brought before the kad-khudá, or headman; in a town before the dárúghih, or police magistrate. To their judgment are submitted all the petty offences that occupy a city police-court or a bench of country magistrates in England. The penalty in the case of larceny, or assault, or such like offences, is, as a rule, restitution, either in kind or in money value; while, if lack of means renders this impossible, the criminal is soundly thrashed. All ordinary criminal cases are brought before the ḥakím, or governor of a town; the more important before the provincial governor or governor-general. The ultimate court of appeal in each case is the king, of whose sovereign authority these subordinate exercises of jurisdiction are merely a delegation, although it is rare that a suppliant at any distance from the capital can make his complaint heard so far…. Justice, as dispensed in this fashion by the officers of government in Persia, obeys no law and follows no system. Publicity is the sole guarantee for fairness; but great is the scope, especially in the lower grades, for píshkash and the bribe. The dárúghis have the reputation of being both harsh and venal, and there are some who go so far as to say that there is not a sentence of an official in Persia, even of the higher ranks, that cannot be swayed by a pecuniary consideration.”

(Excerpts from Lord Curzon’s “Persia and the Persian Question,” vol. 1, pp. 452–55.)

[Fold-out genealogical chart of the Báb bound between pages lviii and lix.]

KEY TO THE GENEALOGY OF THE BÁB

1. Descendant of the Imám Ḥusayn, resident of Shíráz.
2. Wife of the Báb.
3. Surnamed “Afnán-i-Kabír.”
4. Wife of Mírzá Zaynu’l-‘Ábidín.
5. Known as “Saqqá-Khání.”
6. Wife of Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Ḥasan, son of Mírzá ‘Alí.
7. Died at birth.
8. Surnamed “Khál-i-Akbar,” to whom the Kitáb-i-Íqán was addressed.
9. Surnamed “Khál-i-A‘ẓam,” one of the Seven Martyrs of Ṭihrán.
10. Surnamed “Vakílu’d-Dawlih,” chief builder of the Mashriqu’l-Adhkár in ‘Ishqábád.
11. Surnamed “Vazír,” native of Núr in Mázindarán; named ‘Abbás.
12. Named ‘Abbás.
13. Named ‘Alí-Muḥammad.
14. Named Ḥusayn-‘Alí.
15. Wife of Vakílu’d-Dawlih, Ḥájí Mírzá Muḥammad-Taqí.
16. Only son of Ḥájí Mírzá Muḥammad-‘Alí.
17. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s son-in-law.
18. Descendant of the Imám Ḥusayn, merchant and native of Shíráz.
19. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s son-in-law.
20. Only child of Mírzá Abu’l-Fatḥ.

THE QÁJÁR DYNASTY

Fatḥ-‘Alí Sháh, 1798–1834 A.D.
Muḥammad Sháh, 1835–48 A.D.
Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh, 1848–96 A.D.
Muẓaffari’d-Dín Sháh, 1896–1907 A.D.
Muḥammad-‘Alí Sháh, 1907–9 A.D.
Aḥmad Sháh, 1909–25 A.D.
Mírzá Abu’l-Qásim-i-Qá’im-Maqám.
Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí.
Mírzá Taqí Khán Amír-Niẓám.
Mírzá Áqá Khán-i-Núrí.

[Fold-out chart of the “Pedigree of the Qájár Dynasty” between pages lx and lxi.]

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Grateful acknowledgment is made to Lady Blomfield for her valuable suggestions; to an English correspondent for his help in the preparation of the Introduction; to Mrs. E. Hoagg for the typing of the manuscript; to Miss Effie Baker for the photographs used in illustrating this book.

— The Translator.

MUḤAMMAD-I-ZARANDÍ, SURNAMED NABÍL-I-A‘ẒAMMUḤAMMAD-I-ZARANDÍ, SURNAMED NABÍL-I-A‘ẒAM

PREFACE

IT IS my intention, by the aid and assistance of God, to devote the introductory pages of this narrative to such accounts as I have been able to obtain regarding those twin great lights, Shaykh Aḥmad-i-Aḥsá’í and Siyyid Káẓim-i-Rashtí, after which it is my hope to recount, in their chronological order, the chief events that have happened since the year ’60, the year that witnessed the declaration of the Faith by the Báb, until the present time, the year 1305 A.H.

In certain instances I shall go into some detail, in others I shall content myself with a brief summary of events. I shall place on record a description of the episodes I myself have witnessed, as well as those that have been reported to me by trustworthy and recognised informants, specifying in every case their names and standing. Those to whom I am primarily indebted are the following: Mírzá Aḥmad-i-Qazvíní, the Báb’s amanuensis; Siyyid Ismá‘íl-i-Dhabíḥ; Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí; Shaykh Abú-Turáb-i-Qazvíní; and, last but not least, Mírzá Músá, Áqáy-i-Kalím, brother of Bahá’u’lláh.

I render thanks to God for having assisted me in the writing of these preliminary pages, and for having blessed and honoured them with the approval of Bahá’u’lláh, who has graciously deigned to consider them and who signified, through His amanuensis Mírzá Áqá Ján, who read them to Him, His pleasure and acceptance. I pray that the Almighty may sustain and guide me lest I err and falter in the task I have set myself to accomplish.

MUḤAMMAD-I-ZARANDÍ.

‘Akká, Palestine,
1305 A.H.

SHAYKH AḤMAD-I-AḤSÁ’ÍSHAYKH AḤMAD-I-AḤSÁ’Í

THE DAWN-BREAKERS

CHAPTER I

THE MISSION OF SHAYKH AḤMAD-I-AḤSÁ’Í

His departure from Baḥrayn to ‘Iráq

His visit to Najaf and Karbilá

AT A time when the shining reality of the Faith of Muḥammad had been obscured by the ignorance, the fanaticism, and perversity of the contending sects into which it had fallen, there appeared above the horizon of the East that luminous Star of Divine guidance, Shaykh Aḥmad-i-Aḥsá’í. He observed how those who professed the Faith of Islám had shattered its unity, sapped its force, perverted its purpose, and degraded its holy name. His soul was filled with anguish at the sight of the corruption and strife which characterised the shí‘ah sect of Islám. Inspired by the light that shone within him, he arose with unerring vision, with fixed purpose, and sublime detachment to utter his protest against the betrayal of the Faith by that ignoble people. Aglow with zeal and conscious of the sublimity of his calling, he vehemently appealed not only to shí‘ah Islám but to all the followers of Muḥammad throughout the East, to awaken from the slumber of negligence and to prepare the way for Him who must needs be made manifest in the fulness of time, whose light alone could dissipate the mists of prejudice and ignorance which had enveloped that Faith. Forsaking his home and kindred, on one of the islands of Baḥrayn, to the south of the Persian Gulf, he set out, as bidden by an almighty Providence, to unravel the mysteries of those verses of Islamic Scriptures which foreshadowed the advent of a new Manifestation. He was well aware of the dangers and perils that beset his path; he fully realised the crushing responsibility of his task. There burned in his soul the conviction that no reform, however drastic, within the Faith of Islám, could achieve the regeneration of this perverse people. He knew, and was destined by the Will of God to demonstrate, that nothing short of a new and independent Revelation, as attested and foreshadowed by the sacred Scriptures of Islám, could revive the fortunes and restore the purity of that decadent Faith.

Bereft of all earthly possessions, and detached from all save God, he, in the early days of the thirteenth century of the Hegira, when forty years of age, arose to dedicate the remaining days of his life to the task he felt impelled to shoulder. He first proceeded to Najaf and Karbilá, where in a few years he acquired familiarity with the prevailing thoughts and standards current among the learned men of Islám. There he came to be recognised as one of the authorised expounders of the Islamic Holy Writ, was declared a mujtahid, and soon obtained an ascendancy over the rest of his colleagues, who either visited or were residing in those holy cities. These came to regard him as one initiated into the mysteries of Divine Revelation, and qualified to unravel the abstruse utterances of Muḥammad and of the imáms of the Faith. As his influence increased, and the scope of his authority widened, he found himself besieged on every side by an ever-increasing number of devoted enquirers who asked to be enlightened regarding the intricacies of the Faith, all of which he ably and fully expounded. By his knowledge and fearlessness he struck terror to the hearts of the Ṣúfís and Neo-Platonists and other kindred schools of thought, who envied his learning and feared his ruthlessness. Thereby he acquired added favour in the eyes of those learned divines, who looked upon these sects as the disseminators of obscure and heretical doctrines. Yet, great as was his fame and universal as was the esteem in which he was regarded, he despised all the honours which his admirers lavished upon him. He marvelled at their servile devotion to dignity and rank, and refused resolutely to associate himself with the objects of their pursuits and desires.

GENERAL VIEW OF NAJAFGENERAL VIEW OF NAJAF

His journey to Shíráz

GENERAL VIEW OF SHÍRÁZGENERAL VIEW OF SHÍRÁZ

Having achieved his purpose in those cities, and inhaling the fragrance which wafted upon him from Persia, he felt in his heart an irrepressible yearning to hasten to that country. He concealed from his friends, however, the real motive that impelled him to direct his steps towards that land. By way of the Persian Gulf, he hastened unto the land of his heart’s desire, ostensibly for the purpose of visiting the shrine of the Imám Riḍá in Mashhad. He was filled with eagerness to unburden his soul, and searched zealously for those to whom he could deliver the secret which to no one he had as yet divulged. Upon his arrival at Shíráz, the city which enshrined that concealed Treasure of God, and from which the voice of the Herald of a new Manifestation was destined to be proclaimed, he repaired to the Masjid-i-Jum‘ih, a mosque which in its style and shape bore a striking resemblance to the holy shrine of Mecca. Many a time did he, whilst gazing upon that edifice, observe: “Verily, this house of God betokens such signs as only those who are endowed with understanding can perceive. Methinks he who conceived and built it was inspired of God.” How often and how passionately he extolled that city! Such was the praise he lavished upon it that his hearers, who were only too familiar with its mediocrity, were astonished at the tone of his language. “Wonder not,” he said to those who were surprised, “for ere long the secret of my words will be made manifest to you. Among you there shall be a number who will live to behold the glory of a Day which the prophets of old have yearned to witness.” So great was his authority in the eyes of the ‘ulamás who met and conversed with him, that they professed themselves incapable of comprehending the meaning of his mysterious allusions and ascribed their failure to their own deficient understanding.

FATḤ-‘ALÍ SHÁH AND SONSFATḤ-‘ALÍ SHÁH AND SONS

pg 6

His stay in Yazd

a. His correspondence with Fatḥ-‘Alí Sháh

Having sown the seeds of Divine knowledge in the hearts of those whom he found receptive to his call, Shaykh Aḥmad set out for Yazd, where he tarried awhile, engaged continually in the dissemination of such truths as he felt urged to reveal. Most of his books and epistles were written in that city. Such was the fame he acquired, that the ruler of Persia, Fatḥ-‘Alí Sháh, was moved to address to him from Ṭihrán a written message, calling upon him to explain certain specific questions related to the abstruse teachings of the Muslim Faith, the meaning of which the leading ‘ulamás of his realm had been unable to unfold. To this he readily answered in the form of an epistle to which he gave the name of “Risáliy-i-Sulṭáníyyih.” The Sháh was so pleased with the tone and subject matter of that epistle that he forthwith sent him a second message, this time extending to him an invitation to visit his court. Replying to this second imperial message, he wrote the following: “As I had intended ever since my departure from Najaf and Karbilá to visit and pay my homage to the shrine of the Imám Riḍá in Mashhad, I venture to hope that your Imperial Majesty will graciously allow me to fulfil the vow which I have made. Later on, God willing, it is my hope and purpose to avail myself of the honour which your Imperial Majesty has deigned to confer upon me.”

b. His relations with Ḥájí ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb

Among those who, in the city of Yazd, were awakened by the message of that bearer of the light of God, was Ḥájí ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb, a man of great piety, upright and God-fearing. He visited Shaykh Aḥmad each day in the company of a certain Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Kháliq-i-Yazdí, who was noted for his authority and learning. On certain occasions, however, in order to talk confidentially with ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb, Shaykh Aḥmad, to the great surprise of the learned ‘Abdu’l-Kháliq, would ask him to retire from his presence and leave him alone with his chosen and favoured disciple. This marked preference shown to so modest and illiterate a man as ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb was a cause of great surprise to his companion, who was only too conscious of his own superiority and attainments. Later, however, when Shaykh Aḥmad had departed from Yazd, ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb retired from the society of men and came to be regarded as a Ṣúfí. By the orthodox leaders of that community, however, such as the Ni‘matu’lláhí and Dhahabí, he was denounced as an intruder and was suspected of a desire to rob them of their leadership. ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb, for whom the Ṣúfí doctrine had no special attraction, scorned their false imputations and shunned their society. He associated with none except Ḥájí Ḥasan-i-Náyíní, whom he had chosen as his intimate friend and to whom he confided the secret with which he had been entrusted by his master. When ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb died, this friend, following his example, continued to pursue the path which he had directed him to tread, and announced to every receptive soul the tidings of God’s fast-approaching Revelation.

c. The anecdote of Mírzá Maḥmúd-i-Qamṣarí

Mírzá Maḥmúd-i-Qamṣarí, whom I met in Káshán, and who at that time was an old man over ninety years of age and was greatly beloved and revered by all those who knew him, related to me the following story: “I recall when in my youth, at the time when I was living in Káshán, I heard of a certain man in Náyín who had arisen to announce the tidings of a new Revelation, and under whose spell fell all who heard him, whether scholars, officials of the government, or the uneducated among the people. His influence was such that those who came in contact with him renounced the world and despised its riches. Curious to ascertain the truth, I proceeded, unsuspected by my friends, to Náyín, where I was able to verify the statements that were current about him. His radiant countenance bespoke the light that had been kindled in his soul. I heard him, one day, after he had offered his morning prayer, speak words such as these: ‘Ere long will the earth be turned into a paradise. Ere long will Persia be made the shrine round which will circle the peoples of the earth.’ One morning, at the hour of dawn, I found him fallen upon his face, repeating in wrapt devotion the words ‘Alláh-u-Akbar.’ To my great surprise he turned to me and said: ‘That which I have been announcing to you is now revealed. At this very hour the light of the promised One has broken and is shedding illumination upon the world. O Maḥmúd, verily I say, you shall live to behold that Day of days.’ The words which that holy man addressed to me kept ringing in my ears until the day when, in the year sixty, I was privileged to hear the Call that arose from Shíráz. I was, alas, unable, because of my infirmities, to hasten to that city. Later, when the Báb, the herald of the new Revelation, arrived in Káshán and for three nights lived as a guest in the house of Ḥájí Mírzá Jání, I was unaware of His visit and so missed the honour of attaining His presence. Sometime afterwards, whilst conversing with the followers of the Faith, I was informed that the birthday of the Báb fell on the first day of the month of Muḥarram of the year 1235 A.H. I realised that the day to which Ḥájí Ḥasan-i-Náyíní had referred did not correspond with this date, that there was actually a difference of two years between them. This thought sorely perplexed me. Long after, however, I met a certain Ḥájí Mírzá Kamálu’d-Dín-i-Naráqí, who announced to me the Revelation of Bahá’u’lláh in Baghdád, and who shared with me a number of verses from the ‘Qaṣídiy-i-Varqá’íyyih’ as well as certain passages of the Persian and Arabic ‘Hidden Words.’ I was moved to the depths of my soul as I heard him recite those sacred words. The following I still vividly remember: ‘O Son of Being! Thy heart is my home; sanctify it for my descent. Thy spirit is my place of revelation; cleanse it for my manifestation. O Son of Earth! Wouldst thou have me, seek none other than me; and wouldst thou gaze upon my beauty, close thine eyes to the world and all that is therein; for my will and the will of another than I, even as fire and water, cannot dwell together in one heart.’ I asked him the date of the birth of Bahá’u’lláh. ‘The dawn of the second day of Muḥarram,’ he replied, ‘of the year 1233 A.H.’ I immediately remembered the words of Ḥájí Ḥasan and recalled the day on which they were spoken. Instinctively I fell prostrate on the ground and exclaimed: ‘Glorified art Thou, O my God, for having enabled me to attain unto this promised Day. If now I be called to Thee, I die content and assured.’” That very year, the year 1274 A.H., that venerable and radiant soul yielded his spirit to God.

This account which I heard from the lips of Mírzá Maḥmúd-i-Qamṣarí himself, and which is still current amongst the people, is assuredly a compelling evidence of the perspicacity of the late Shaykh Aḥmad-i-Aḥsá’í and bears eloquent testimony to the influence he exercised upon his immediate disciples. The promise he gave them was eventually fulfilled, and the mystery with which he fired their souls was unfolded in all its glory.

d. The arrival of Siyyid Káẓim-i-Rashtí

During those days when Shaykh Aḥmad was preparing to depart from Yazd, Siyyid Káẓim-i-Rashtí, that other luminary of Divine guidance, set out from his native province of Gílán with the object of visiting Shaykh Aḥmad, ere the latter undertook his pilgrimage to Khurásán. In the course of his first interview with him, Shaykh Aḥmad spoke these words: “I welcome you, O my friend! How long and how eagerly have I waited for you to come and deliver me from the arrogance of this perverse people! I am oppressed by the shamelessness of their acts and the depravity of their character. ‘Verily, We proposed to the heavens, and to the earth, and to the mountains, to receive the trust of God, but they refused the burden, and they feared to receive it. Man undertook to bear it; and he, verily, hath proved unjust, ignorant.’”

This Siyyid Káẓim had already, from his early boyhood, shown signs of remarkable intellectual power and spiritual insight. He was unique among those of his own rank and age. At the age of eleven, he had committed to memory the whole of the Qur’án. At the age of fourteen, he had learned by heart a prodigious number of prayers and recognised traditions of Muḥammad. At the age of eighteen, he had composed a commentary on a verse of the Qur’án known as the Áyatu’l-Kursí, which had excited the wonder and the admiration of the most learned of his day. His piety, the gentleness of his character, and his humility were such that all who knew him, whether young or old, were profoundly impressed.

In the year 1231 A.H., when only twenty-two years old, he, forsaking home, kindred, and friends, departed from Gílán, intent upon attaining the presence of him who had so nobly arisen to announce the approaching dawn of a Divine Revelation. He had been in the company of Shaykh Aḥmad for only a few weeks, when the latter, turning to him one day, addressed him in these words: “Remain in your house and cease attending my lectures. Such of my disciples as may feel perplexed will turn henceforth to you, and will seek to obtain from you directly whatsoever assistance they may require. You will, through the knowledge which the Lord your God has bestowed upon you, resolve their problems and tranquillise their hearts. By the power of your utterance you will help to revive the sorely neglected Faith of Muḥammad, your illustrious ancestor.” These words addressed to Siyyid Káẓim excited the resentment and kindled the envy of the prominent disciples of Shaykh Aḥmad, among whom figured Mullá Muḥammad-i-Mámáqání and Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Kháliq-i-Yazdí. So compelling was the dignity of Siyyid Káẓim, however, and so remarkable were the evidences of his knowledge and wisdom, that these disciples were awed and felt compelled to submit.

His pilgrimage to Mashhad

Shaykh Aḥmad, having thus committed his disciples to the care of Siyyid Káẓim, left for Khurásán. There he tarried awhile, in the close vicinity of the holy shrine of the Imám Riḍá in Mashhad. Within its precincts he pursued with undiminished zest the course of his labours. By resolving the intricacies that agitated the minds of the seekers, he continued to prepare the way for the advent of the coming Manifestation. In that city he became increasingly conscious that the Day which was to witness the birth of the promised One could not be far distant. The promised hour, he felt, was fast approaching. From the direction of Núr, in the province of Mázindarán, he was able to perceive the first glimmerings that heralded the dawn of the promised Dispensation. To him the Revelation foreshadowed in these following traditional utterances was at hand: “Ere long shall ye behold the countenance of your Lord resplendent as the moon in its full glory. And yet, ye shall fail to unite in acknowledging His truth and embracing His Faith.” And “One of the most mighty signs that shall signalise the advent of the promised Hour is this: ‘A woman shall give birth to One who shall be her Lord.’”

PAINTING OF MÍRZÁ BUZURG(FATHER OF BAHÁ’U’LLÁH)PAINTING OF MÍRZÁ BUZURG (FATHER OF BAHÁ’U’LLÁH)

His triumphal entry into Ṭihrán

Shaykh Aḥmad therefore set his face towards Núr and, accompanied by Siyyid Káẓim and a number of his distinguished disciples, proceeded to Ṭihrán. The Sháh of Persia, being informed of the approach of Shaykh Aḥmad to his capital, commanded the dignitaries and officials of Ṭihrán to go out to meet him. He directed them to extend a cordial expression of welcome on his behalf. The distinguished visitor and his companions were royally entertained by the Sháh, who visited him in person and declared him to be “the glory of his nation and an ornament to his people.” In those days, there was born a Child in an ancient and noble family of Núr, whose father was Mírzá ‘Abbás, better known as Mírzá Buzurg, a favoured minister of the Crown. That Child was Bahá’u’lláh. At the hour of dawn, on the second day of Muḥarram, in the year 1233 A.H. the world, unaware of its significance, witnessed the birth of Him who was destined to confer upon it such incalculable blessings. Shaykh Aḥmad, who recognised in its full measure the meaning of this auspicious event, yearned to spend the remaining days of his life within the precincts of the court of this Divine, this new-born King. But this was not to be. His thirst unallayed, and his yearning unsatisfied, he felt compelled to submit to God’s irrevocable decree, and, turning his face away from the city of his Beloved, proceeded to Kirmánsháh.

His departure for Kirmánsháh

The governor of Kirmánsháh, Prince Muḥammad-‘Alí Mírzá, the Sháh’s eldest son and the ablest member of his house, had already begged permission of his Imperial Majesty to enable him to entertain and serve in person Shaykh Aḥmad. So favoured was the Prince in the eyes of the Sháh, that his request was immediately granted. Wholly resigned to his destiny, Shaykh Aḥmad bade farewell to Ṭihrán. Ere his departure from that city, he breathed a prayer that this hidden Treasure of God, now born amongst his countrymen, might be preserved and cherished by them, that they might recognise the full measure of His blessedness and glory, and might be enabled to proclaim His excellence to all nations and peoples.

Upon his arrival in Kirmánsháh, Shaykh Aḥmad decided to select a number of the most receptive from among his shí‘ah disciples, and, by devoting his special attention to their enlightenment, to enable them to become the active supporters of the Cause of the promised Revelation. In the series of books and epistles which he undertook to write, among which figures his well-known work Sharḥu’z-Zíyárih, he extolled in clear and vivid language the virtues of the imáms of the Faith, and laid special stress upon the allusions which they had made to the coming of the promised One. By his repeated references to Ḥusayn, he meant, however, none other than the Ḥusayn who was yet to be revealed; and by his allusions to the ever-recurrent name ‘Alí, he intended not the ‘Alí who had been slain, but the ‘Alí recently born. To those who questioned him regarding the signs that must needs herald the advent of the Qá’im, he emphatically asserted the inevitableness of the promised Dispensation. In the very year the Báb was born, Shaykh Aḥmad suffered the loss of his son, whose name was Shaykh ‘Alí. To his disciples who mourned his loss he spoke these words of comfort: “Grieve not, O my friends, for I have offered up my son, my own ‘Alí, as a sacrifice for the ‘Alí whose advent we all await. To this end have I reared and prepared him.”

The Báb, whose name was ‘Alí-Muḥammad, was born in Shíráz, on the first of Muḥarram, in the year 1235 A.H. He was the descendant of a house renowned for its nobility, which traced its origin to Muḥammad Himself. His father, Siyyid Muḥammad-Riḍá, as well as His mother, were descendants of the Prophet, and belonged to families of recognised standing. The date of His birth confirmed the truth of the saying attributed to the Imám ‘Alí, the Commander of the Faithful: “I am two years younger than my Lord.” The mystery of this utterance, however, remained unrevealed except to those who sought and recognised the truth of the new Revelation. It was He, the Báb, who, in His first, His most weighty and exalted Book, revealed this passage concerning Bahá’u’lláh: “O Thou Remnant of God! I have sacrificed Myself wholly for Thee; I have consented to be cursed for Thy sake; and have yearned for naught but martyrdom in the path of Thy love. Sufficient witness unto Me is God, the Exalted, the Protector, the Ancient of Days!”

While Shaykh Aḥmad was sojourning in Kirmánsháh, he received so many evidences of ardent devotion from Prince Muḥammad-‘Alí Mírzá that on one occasion he was moved to refer to the Prince in such terms: “Muḥammad-‘Alí I regard as my own son, though he be a descendant of Fatḥ-‘Alí.” A considerable number of seekers and disciples thronged his house and eagerly attended his lectures. To none, however, did he feel inclined to show the consideration and affectionate regard which characterised his attitude towards Siyyid Káẓim. He seemed to have singled him out from among the multitude that crowded to see him, and to be preparing him to carry on with undiminished vigour his work after his death. One of his disciples, one day, questioned Shaykh Aḥmad concerning the Word which the promised One is expected to utter in the fulness of time, a Word so appallingly tremendous that the three hundred and thirteen chiefs and nobles of the earth would each and all flee in consternation as if overwhelmed by its stupendous weight. To him Shaykh Aḥmad replied: “How can you presume to sustain the weight of the Word which the chieftains of the earth are incapable of bearing? Seek not to gratify an impossible desire. Cease asking me this question, and beseech forgiveness from God.” That presumptuous questioner again pressed him to disclose the nature of that Word. At last Shaykh Aḥmad replied: “Were you to attain that Day, were you to be told to repudiate the guardianship of ‘Alí and to denounce its validity, what would you say?” “God forbid!” he exclaimed. “Such things can never be. That such words should proceed out of the mouth of the promised One is to me inconceivable.” How grievous the mistake he made, and how pitiful his plight! His faith was weighed in the balance, and was found wanting, inasmuch as he failed to recognise that He who must needs be made manifest is endowed with that sovereign power which no man dare question. His is the right “to command whatsoever He willeth, and to decree that which He pleaseth.” Whoever hesitates, whoever, though it be for the twinkling of an eye or less, questions His authority, is deprived of His grace and is accounted of the fallen. And yet few, if any, among those who listened to Shaykh Aḥmad in that city, and heard him unfold the mysteries of the allusions in the sacred Scriptures, were able to appreciate the significance of his utterances or to apprehend their purpose. Siyyid Káẓim, his able and distinguished lieutenant, alone, could claim to have understood his meaning.

His return to Karbilá

After the death of Prince Muḥammad-‘Alí Mírzá, Shaykh Aḥmad, freed from the urgent solicitations of the Prince to extend his sojourn in Kirmánsháh, transferred his residence to Karbilá. Though to outward seeming he was circling round the shrine of the Siyyidu’sh-Shuhadá, the Imám Ḥusayn, his heart, whilst he performed those rites, was set upon that true Ḥusayn, the only object of his devotions. A host of the most distinguished ‘ulamás and mujtahids thronged to see him. Many began to envy his reputation, and a number sought to undermine his authority. However much they strove, they failed to shake his position of undoubted preeminence amongst the learned men of that city. Eventually that shining light was summoned to shed its radiance upon the holy cities of Mecca and Medina. Thither he journeyed, there he pursued with unstinted devotion his labours, and there he was laid to rest beneath the shadow of the Prophet’s sepulchre, for the understanding of whose Cause he had so faithfully laboured.

His journey to Mecca and Medina, and his death

Ere he departed from Karbilá, he confided to Siyyid Káẓim, his chosen successor, the secret of his mission, and instructed him to strive to kindle in every receptive heart the fire that had burned so brightly within him. However much Siyyid Káẓim insisted on accompanying him as far as Najaf, Shaykh Aḥmad refused to comply with his request. “You have no time to lose,” were the last words which he addressed to him. “Every fleeting hour should be fully and wisely utilised. You should gird up the loin of endeavour and strive day and night to rend asunder, by the grace of God and by the hand of wisdom and loving-kindness, those veils of heedlessness that have blinded the eyes of men. For verily I say, the Hour is drawing nigh, the Hour I have besought God to spare me from witnessing, for the earthquake of the Last Hour will be tremendous. You should pray to God to be spared the overpowering trials of that Day, for neither of us is capable of withstanding its sweeping force. Others, of greater endurance and power, have been destined to bear this stupendous weight, men whose hearts are sanctified from all earthly things, and whose strength is reinforced by the potency of His power.”

Having spoken these words, Shaykh Aḥmad bade him farewell, urged him to face valiantly the trials that must needs afflict him, and committed him to the care of God. In Karbilá, Siyyid Káẓim devoted himself to the work initiated by his master, expounded his teachings, defended his Cause, and answered whatever questions perplexed the minds of his disciples. The vigour with which he prosecuted his task inflamed the animosity of the ignorant and envious. “For forty years,” they clamoured, “we have suffered the pretentious teachings of Shaykh Aḥmad to be spread with no opposition whatever on our part. We no longer can tolerate similar pretensions on the part of his successor, who rejects the belief in the resurrection of the body, who repudiates the literal interpretation of the ‘Mi‘ráj,’ who regards the signs of the coming Day as allegorical, and who preaches a doctrine heretical in character and subversive of the best tenets of orthodox Islám.” The louder their clamour and protestations, the firmer grew the determination of Siyyid Káẓim to prosecute his mission and fulfil his trust. He addressed an epistle to Shaykh Aḥmad, wherein he set forth at length the calumnies that had been uttered against him, and acquainted him with the character and extent of their opposition. In it he ventured to enquire as to how long he was destined to submit to the unrelenting fanaticism of a stubborn and ignorant people, and prayed to be enlightened regarding the time when the promised One was to be made manifest. To this Shaykh Aḥmad replied: “Be assured of the grace of your God. Be not grieved at their doings. The mystery of this Cause must needs be made manifest, and the secret of this Message must needs be divulged. I can say no more, I can appoint no time. His Cause will be made known after Ḥín. ‘Ask me not of things which, if revealed unto you, might only pain you.’”

How great, how very great, is His Cause, that even to so exalted a personage as Siyyid Káẓim words such as these should have been addressed! This answer of Shaykh Aḥmad imparted solace and strength to the heart of Siyyid Káẓim, who, with redoubled determination, continued to withstand the onslaught of an envious and insidious enemy.

Shaykh Aḥmad died soon after, in the year 1242 A.H., at the age of eighty-one, and was laid to rest in the cemetery of Baqí‘, in the close vicinity of the resting place of Muḥammad in the holy city of Medina.

CHAPTER II

THE MISSION OF SIYYID KÁẒIM-I-RASHTÍ

His relations with Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad-Báqir-i-Rashtí

THE news of the passing of his beloved master brought unspeakable sorrow to the heart of Siyyid Káẓim. Inspired by the verse of the Qur’án, “Fain would they put out God’s light with their mouths; but God only desireth to perfect His light, albeit the infidels abhor it,” he arose with unswerving purpose to consummate the task with which Shaykh Aḥmad had entrusted him. He found himself, after the removal of so distinguished a protector, a victim of the slanderous tongue and unrelenting enmity of the people around him. They attacked his person, scorned his teachings, and reviled his name. At the instigation of a powerful and notorious shí‘ah leader, Siyyid Ibráhím-i-Qazvíní, the enemies of Siyyid Káẓim leagued together, and determined to destroy him. Thereupon Siyyid Káẓim conceived the plan of securing the support and good will of one of the most formidable and outstanding ecclesiastical dignitaries of Persia, the renowned Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad Báqir-i-Rashtí, who lived in Iṣfahán and whose authority extended far beyond the confines of that city. This friendship and sympathy, Siyyid Káẓim thought, would enable him to pursue untrammelled the course of his activities, and would considerably enhance the influence which he exercised over his disciples. “Would that one amongst you,” he was often heard to say to his followers, “could arise, and, with complete detachment, journey to Iṣfahán, and deliver this message from me to that learned Siyyid: ‘Why is it that in the beginning you showed such marked consideration and affection for the late Shaykh Aḥmad, and have now suddenly detached yourself from the body of his chosen disciples? Why is it that you have abandoned us to the mercy of our opponents?’ Would that such a messenger, putting his trust in God, might arise to unravel whatever mysteries perplex the mind of that learned Siyyid, and dispel such doubts as might have alienated his sympathy. Would that he were able to obtain from him a solemn declaration testifying to the unquestioned authority of Shaykh Aḥmad, and to the truth and soundness of his teachings. Would that he also, after having secured such a testimony, might visit Mashhad and there obtain a similar pronouncement from Mírzá ‘Askarí, the foremost ecclesiastical leader in that holy city, and then, having completed his mission, might return in triumph to this place.” Again and again did Siyyid Káẓim find opportunity to reiterate his appeal. None, however, ventured to respond to his call except a certain Mírzá Muḥíṭ-i-Kirmání, who expressed readiness to undertake this mission. To him Siyyid Káẓim replied: “Beware of touching the lion’s tail. Belittle not the delicacy and difficulty of such a mission.” He then, turning his face towards his youthful disciple, Mullá Ḥusayn-i-Bushrú’í, the Bábu’l-Báb, addressed him in these words: “Arise and perform this mission, for I declare you equal to this task. The Almighty will graciously assist you, and will crown your endeavours with success.”

Mullá Ḥusayn joyously sprang to his feet, kissed the hem of his teacher’s garment, vowed his loyalty to him, and started forthwith on his journey. With complete severance and noble resolve, he set out to achieve his end. Arriving in Iṣfahán, he sought immediately the presence of the learned Siyyid. Clad in mean attire, and laden with the dust of travel, he appeared, amidst the vast and richly apparelled company of the disciples of that distinguished leader, an insignificant and negligible figure. Unobserved and undaunted, he advanced to a place which faced the seat occupied by that renowned teacher. Summoning to his aid all the courage and confidence with which the instructions of Siyyid Káẓim had inspired him, he addressed Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad-Báqir in these words: “Hearken, O Siyyid, to my words, for response to my plea will ensure the safety of the Faith of the Prophet of God, and refusal to consider my message will cause it grievous injury.” These bold and courageous words, uttered with directness and force, produced a surprising impression upon the Siyyid. He suddenly interrupted his discourse, and, ignoring his audience, listened with close attention to the message which this strange visitor had brought. His disciples, amazed at this extraordinary behaviour, rebuked this sudden intruder and denounced his presumptuous pretensions. With extreme politeness, in firm and dignified language, Mullá Ḥusayn hinted at their discourtesy and shallowness, and expressed surprise at their arrogance and vainglory. The Siyyid was highly pleased with the demeanour and argument which the visitor so strikingly displayed. He deplored and apologised for the unseemly conduct of his own disciples. In order to compensate for their ingratitude, he extended every conceivable kindness to that youth, assured him of his support, and besought him to deliver his message. Thereupon, Mullá Ḥusayn acquainted him with the nature and object of the mission with which he had been entrusted. To this the learned Siyyid replied: “As we in the beginning believed that both Shaykh Aḥmad and Siyyid Káẓim were actuated by no desire except to advance the cause of knowledge and safeguard the sacred interests of the Faith, we felt prompted to extend to them our heartiest support and to extol their teachings. In later years, however, we have noticed so many conflicting statements and obscure and mysterious allusions in their writings, that we felt it advisable to keep silent for a time, and to refrain from either censure or applause.” To this Mullá Ḥusayn replied: “I cannot but deplore such silence on your part, for I firmly believe that it involves the loss of a splendid opportunity to advance the cause of Truth. It is for you to set forth specifically such passages in their writings as appear to you mysterious or inconsistent with the precepts of the Faith, and I will, with the aid of God, undertake to expound their true meaning.” The poise, the dignity and confidence, which characterised the behaviour of this unexpected messenger, greatly impressed Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad-Báqir. He begged him not to press the matter at this moment, but to wait until a later day, when, in private converse, he might acquaint him with his own doubts and misgivings. Mullá Ḥusayn, however, feeling that delay might prove harmful to the cause he had at heart, insisted upon an immediate conference with him about the weighty problems which he felt impelled and able to resolve. The Siyyid was moved to tears by the youthful enthusiasm, the sincerity and serene confidence to which the countenance of Mullá Ḥusayn so admirably testified. He sent immediately for some of the works written by Shaykh Aḥmad and Siyyid Káẓim, and began to question Mullá Ḥusayn regarding those passages which had excited his disapproval and surprise. To each reference the messenger replied with characteristic vigour, with masterly knowledge and befitting modesty.

He continued in this manner, in the presence of the assembled disciples, to expound the teachings of Shaykh Aḥmad and Siyyid Káẓim, to vindicate their truth, and to defend their cause, until the time when the Mu’adhdhin, calling the faithful to prayer, suddenly interrupted the flow of his argument. The next day, he similarly, in the presence of a large and representative assembly, and whilst facing the Siyyid, resumed his eloquent defence of the high mission entrusted by an almighty Providence to Shaykh Aḥmad and his successor. A deep silence fell upon his hearers. They were seized with wonder at the cogency of his argument and the tone and manner of his speech. The Siyyid publicly promised that on the following day he would himself issue a written declaration wherein he would testify to the eminence of the position held by both Shaykh Aḥmad and Siyyid Káẓim, and would pronounce whosoever deviated from their path as one who had turned aside from the Faith of the Prophet Himself. He would likewise bear witness to their penetrative insight, and their correct and profound understanding of the mysteries which the Faith of Muḥammad enshrined. The Siyyid redeemed his pledge, and with his own hand penned the promised declaration. He wrote at length, and in the course of his testimony paid a tribute to the character and learning of Mullá Ḥusayn. He spoke in glowing terms of Siyyid Káẓim, apologised for his former attitude, and expressed the hope that in the days to come he might be enabled to make amends for his past and regrettable conduct towards him. He read, himself, to his disciples the text of this written testimony, and delivered it unsealed to Mullá Ḥusayn, authorising him to share its contents with whomsoever he pleased, that all might know the extent of his devotion to Siyyid Káẓim.

No sooner had Mullá Ḥusayn retired than the Siyyid charged one of his trusted attendants to follow in the footsteps of the visitor and find out the place where he was residing. The attendant followed him to a modest building, which served as a madrisih, and saw him enter a room which, except for a worn-out mat which covered its floor, was devoid of furniture. He watched him arrive, offer his prayer of thanksgiving to God, and lie down upon that mat with nothing to cover him except his ‘abá. Having reported to his master all that he had observed, the attendant was again instructed to deliver to Mullá Ḥusayn the sum of a hundred túmáns, and to express the sincere apologies of his master for his inability to extend to so remarkable a messenger a hospitality that befitted his station. To this offer Mullá Ḥusayn sent the following reply: “Tell your master that his real gift to me is the spirit of fairness with which he received me, and the open-mindedness which prompted him, despite his exalted rank, to respond to the message which I, a lowly stranger, brought him. Return this money to your master, for I, as a messenger, ask for neither recompense nor reward. ‘We nourish your souls for the sake of God; we seek from you neither recompense nor thanks.’ My prayer for your master is that earthly leadership may never hinder him from acknowledging and testifying to the Truth.” Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad-Báqir died before the year sixty A.H., the year that witnessed the birth of the Faith proclaimed by the Báb. He remained to his last moment a staunch supporter and fervent admirer of Siyyid Káẓim.

His allusions to the Promised One

Having fulfilled the first part of his mission, Mullá Ḥusayn despatched this written testimony of Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad-Báqir to his master in Karbilá, and directed his steps towards Mashhad, determined to deliver, to the best of his ability the message which he was charged to give to Mírzá ‘Askarí. Immediately the letter, enclosing the Siyyid’s written declaration, was delivered to Siyyid Káẓim, the latter was so rejoiced that he forthwith sent to Mullá Ḥusayn his reply, expressing his grateful appreciation of the exemplary manner in which he had discharged his trust. He was so delighted with the answer he had received that, interrupting the course of his lecture, he read out, to his disciples, both the letter of Mullá Ḥusayn and the written testimony enclosed in that letter. He afterwards shared with them the epistle which he himself had written to Mullá Ḥusayn in recognition of the remarkable service he had rendered him. In it Siyyid Káẓim paid such a glowing tribute to his high attainments, to his ability and character that a few among those who heard it suspected that Mullá Ḥusayn was that promised One to whom their master unceasingly referred, the One whom he so often declared to be living in their very midst and yet to have remained unrecognised by them all. That communication enjoined upon Mullá Ḥusayn the fear of God, urged him to regard it as the most potent instrument with which to withstand the onslaught of the enemy, and the distinguishing feature of every true follower of the Faith. It was couched in such terms of tender affection, that no one who read it could doubt that the writer was bidding farewell to his beloved disciple, and that he entertained no hope of ever meeting him again in this world.

The anecdote of Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí

In those days Siyyid Káẓim became increasingly aware of the approach of the Hour at which the promised One was to be revealed. He realised how dense were those veils that hindered the seekers from apprehending the glory of the concealed Manifestation. He accordingly exerted his utmost endeavour to remove gradually, with caution and wisdom, whatever barriers might stand in the way of the full recognition of that Hidden Treasure of God. He repeatedly urged his disciples to bear in mind the fact that He whose advent they were expecting would appear neither from Jábulqá nor from Jábulṣá.’ He even hinted at His presence in their very midst. “You behold Him with your own eyes,” he often observed, “and yet recognise Him not!” To his disciples who questioned him regarding the signs of the Manifestation, he would say: “He is of noble lineage. He is a descendant of the Prophet of God, of the family of Háshim. He is young in age, and is possessed of innate knowledge. His learning is derived, not from the teachings of Shaykh Aḥmad, but from God. My knowledge is but a drop compared with the immensity of His knowledge; my attainments a speck of dust in the face of the wonders of His grace and power. Nay, immeasurable is the difference. He is of medium height, abstains from smoking, and is of extreme devoutness and piety.” Certain of the Siyyid’s disciples, despite the testimonies of their master, believed him to be the promised One, for in him they recognised the signs to which he was alluding. Among them was a certain Mullá Mihdíy-i-Khu’í, who went so far as to make public this belief. Whereupon the Siyyid was sore displeased, and would have cast him out from the company of his chosen followers had he not begged forgiveness and expressed his repentance for his action.