carrying him to burial, a devotee
who was passing by stood aloof, saying that funeral prayers should not
be said over such an one. The next night, in a dream, the devotee saw
the criminal in heaven, with his face shining like the sun. Amazed, he
said to him, "How hast thou obtained so lofty a place, thou who hast
spent thy life in crime, and art foul from head to foot?" He answered,
"It is because of thy want of compassion towards me that God has shown
me mercy, though so great a sinner. Behold the mystery of God's love and
wisdom. In His wisdom, He sends man, like a child with a lamp, through
the night as black as a raven; immediately afterwards he commands a
furious wind to blow and extinguish the lamp. Then He asks His child why
the lamp is blown out."

"Night and day, O my child, the seven spheres carry on their revolutions
for thee. Heaven and hell are reflections of thy goodness and of thy
wickedness. The angels have all bowed down to thee.[53] The part and
whole are lost in thy essence. Do not, therefore, despise thine own
self, for nothing is higher than it. The body is part of the Whole, and
thy soul is the Whole. The body is not distinct from the soul, but is a
part of it, neither is the soul distinct from the Whole. It is for thee
that the time arrives when the rose displays its beauty; for thee that
the clouds pour down the rain of mercy. Whatever the angels do, they
have done for thee."

ANECDOTE OF BAYAZID BASTAMI.

One night Sheikh Bayazid went out of the town, and found reigning
everywhere profound silence. The moon was shining at the full, making
the night as clear as day. The sky was covered with constellations, each
fulfilling its course. The Sheikh walked on for a long while without
hearing the least sound, and without perceiving anyone. He was deeply
moved, and said, "O Lord, my heart is pained. Why is such a sublime
audience-hall as Thine without throngs of worshippers?" "Cease thy
wonder," an inner voice replied to him. "The King does not accord access
to His Court to everyone. When the sanctuary of Our splendour is
displayed, the careless and the slumbering are without. Those who are to
be admitted to this Court wait whole years, and then only one in a
million enters."

* * * * *

In his latter years, Fariduddin Attar carried his asceticism to such a
degree that he gave up composing poetry altogether. The story of his
death illustrates in a striking way the