STORY LI
I spoke in the cathedral mosque of Damascus a few words by way of a sermon, but to a congregation whose hearts were withered and dead, not having traveled from the world of form [i.e. the physical] to the world of meaning [i.e. the moral world], I perceived that my words took no effect, and that burning fire does not kindle moist wood. I was sorry for instructing brutes, and holding forth a mirror in a locality of blind people; I had, however, opened the door of meaning and was giving a long explanation of the verse 'We are nearer to Him than the jugular vein,'[1] till I said, "The Friend[2] is nearer to me than myself, but it is more strange that I am far from Him. What am I to do? To whom can it be said that He is in my arms, but I am exiled [from Him]."
I had intoxicated myself with the wine of these sentiments, holding the remnant of the cup [of the sermon] in my hand, when a traveller happened to pass near the edge of the assembly, and the last turn [of the circulating cup, i.e. the above verses] made such an impression on him that he shouted, and the others joined him who began to roar, whilst the raw portion of the congregation became turbulent; whereon I said: "Praise be to Allah! Those who are far away, but intelligent, are in the presence [of Allah], and those who are near, but blind, are distant."
When the hearer understands not the meaning of words, do not look for the effect of the orator's force; but raise an extensive field of desire that the eloquent man my strike the ball [of effect].
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