IX. CHAMBER OF REPOSE
"Sing to me, Abul Fazel, some of the sweet lays of thy gifted and lamented brother to-night, for I am tired with the work of the day, and I need something to soothe me to rest."
It was nearly midnight, and Akbar was seated with two friends in a marble room in the palace which overlooked the Jumna. The moonlight streamed through the delicate trellis-work of the marble windows, the murmur of the river was heard below, and the air was laden with perfume. There were cushioned seats in the room, lining the marble walls and pillars inlaid with coloured stones of pretty designs. Akbar had partaken of a sparing evening meal with his two guests, and was spending an hour in quiet conversation before retiring to rest.
Akbar's two companions were his faithful friend and adviser, Abul Fazel, and the rival historian and devout Musalman, Badaoni. It was a high honour to be invited to this inner room in the palace to which few even of the trusted grandees of the Empire were ever admitted. The ever-regretted Bir Bal had often sat here, willing away the cares of the Emperor by his witty sayings, and the Troubadour Prince, Prithwi Raj, had often sung his Rajput ballads in this room. Christian priests, Moslem Mullas, and Hindu Pandits, too, had occasionally discussed their articles of faith before the monarch in this inner hall, till the night waned and the red light of dawn stole through its marble windows. But to-night he wanted rest, and there was none who could soothe the spirit of the Emperor in his later years as his friend and adviser, Abul Fazel.
"Sing to me from the lays of Faizi, the gifted poet who solaced my younger days with his song. Or sing some of your own verses, Abul Fazel, for to you is given the skill of wedding deep thought to musical words, such as few possess on earth."
Abul Fazel recited some of his verses, which may be thus rendered:
I
"Where be comrades of my youth,
Friends professing love and truth,
Love that linketh heart to heart,
Faith that lives till life depart!
Vanished—forms of air, alas!
Shivered—like a globe of glass!
Lonely—through the gloom I pass!
II
Though the earth is teeming still,
Nations people dale and hill,
Hum of men ascend the air,
Thronged each town and hamlet fair,
Vain my quest, in vain I scan,
Every nation, every clan,
Rare on earth—a Perfect Man!"
"Long will be your quest, Abul Fazel, for a true man is rare indeed. Deep is thy thought, my friend—such wisdom as we find in the poetry of olden times, and not often in the polished verses of our days."
"The ancients, sire, lived more in touch with Nature, and interpreted the secrets of Nature. We live much in a world of our own creation."
"The stirring verses of our immortal Ferdusi, the grand old Epics of India—is there anything we have produced in our times which will stand beside them?"
"Nothing, sire. Our Court poetry blooms like an exotic flower for a day and then withers. The ancient poetry of Persia and India lives through ages like a mighty Deodar of the Himalayas, striking its roots deep into the everlasting rocks."
"And yet I sometimes think that a great Empire like ours would leave some worthy memorials in literature, some great song which would perpetuate these times."
"This great age, sire, will leave memorials in literature, not in the language of the Court, but in the tongues of the people. The language of the Court—the Persian—is the spoken tongue of a few. Our Court poetry is like a pretty flower which we grow on a marble vase and admire for a day. But the poetry of nations is like a vast wood, which spreads over the broad and fertile earth and gives shade and shelter to the people."
"But I have heard, Abul Fazel, that the Hindus speak and write the Persian tongue as well as we, and that the late Raja Todar Mull spread the use of the Persian in our Courts and offices throughout India."
"The Hindus, sire, are an intellectual race, and will quickly learn any language in which the business of Courts is conducted. But the aspirations of their national mind are ever expressed in the tongues which they imbibe with their mothers' milk."
"Have they composed such poems in their own tongues then in our times?"
"Your Majesty knows that the songs of Sur Das and Keshav Das delight the people, and Tulasi Das has re-written the ancient story of Rama in the Hindi tongue. It is recited and heard by millions of men and women in towns and villages in Northern India, and will be recited in this land, sire, when we are forgotten."
"Ay, Abul Fazel, you speak words of wisdom. But tell me, are the other Provinces as rich in literature in the present age as Northern India?"
"Raja Man Singh will tell you, sire, that in far Bengal the ancient Epics of India, told in the modern tongue by Kasiram and Kritibas, are recited in every town and village. And one rising poet, Mukunda Ram, appeared before the Raja and sang his new compositions, which affected him deeply."
"I heard him speak of the poetry of Bengal, Abul Fazel, and fain would listen to it. But the spoken tongue of Bengal is unknown to me, and at my age, and with my work, it is too late to begin the alphabets."
"Away in the south, too, beyond the territories which the Khan-Khanan rules, the brave and warlike Mahrattas have their stirring poetry, and the verses of Sridhar are known to the high and the low. These are the literary memorials of your age, great Emperor, and these will speak to future generations of its culture and thought."
"I am content that my subjects of all races and creeds should compose and sing in their own tongues. Great reformers, too, have risen among them, and are counting hundreds of thousands of pious men and women as their followers, while we make few converts to the Din-Ilahi—the Divine Faith which we have proclaimed."
"Their aims are the same as yours, sire. But they work among the people, while the Divine Faith claims its followers only among the Ameers and grandees of the Court. Over a hundred years ago there lived in Benares an eminent prophet, Ramanand, who preached the faith of One True God far and wide. And his disciple, whom they call Kabir, held the lofty aim which inspires your Majesty of uniting Hindus and Mohammedans in the worship of the One. It was he who sang the immortal verse:
"Is Benares thy God's abode, brother of Hindu creed?
Is Mecca city of thy God, Moslem of righteous deed?
But search your inner selves, my friends, the God of earth and air,
The Moslems' and the Hindus’ God—He ever dwelleth there!"
"Noble sentiment that, Abul Fazel. Our learned men write more ornate words, but appeal not to the heart like the Poet of the People. Have there been many such in the land?"
"In the land of the Punjab, sire, there lived, a hundred years ago, a great spiritual teacher called Nanak, who was inspired by the same object; and Musalmans and Hindus join that sect and call themselves Sikhs. They are a brave but peaceful sect, and among the most loyal among your Majesty's subjects."
"I have heard of them, Abul Fazel, and I esteem them, for they are seekers after One True God."
"Bengal, too, produced its great reformer, Chaitanya, a hundred years ago. He, too, sought to unite Moslems and Hindus in the worship of one God, and his followers can now be reckoned by the million."
"Worthy and noble were these Preachers of the Truth who lived humble lives, who worked among the poor, and who achieved greater results than we have done in our might and glory."
"It is always thus," said Abul Fazel. "It is the poor and the lowly who touch the hearts of the million and bring light and joy to their humble lives. The Prophet Jesus was poor and persecuted, and lived among the fishermen of Galilee; and Mahomet, the last of the Prophets, fled from Mecca to Medina for his life."
"Ay, I have met saintly men from the West who explained to me the story of Prophet Jesus, and it touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes to hear of Him who died on the cross. They say all the Western nations follow His creed—the Portuguese, the Dutch, and the English too, who live in their little island in the ocean."
"I am content," added Akbar, after a pause, "if the more thoughtful among my subjects recognise the religion of One God—the God of the Hindus and the Mohammedans. Let us sow the seed in our days and the harvest will follow. I built a Temple in Kashmir, after my conquest of that Province, for the use of both Hindus and Moslems, and you know, Abul Fazel, the words which were engraved on the Temple."
Abul Fazel knew those words by heart, and repeated them:
"Where'er I look, O Mighty God! all men are seeking Thee,
Whate'er tongue is spoken, God, all men but speak of Thee!
Faith of faithful, doubt of sceptic, feeleth after Thee!
Thou art One without a second—all faiths teach of Thee!
In the mosque the gathered people murmur hymns to Thee!
In the temple pious pilgrims ring the bell for Thee!
To the mosque and to the temple often I repair,
Thee from door to door I seek, thy holy grace to share.
Heresy from Orthodoxy none can ever tell,
Orthodox or Heretic see not Light behind the veil!
Each may cling unto his own, and men may pray apart,
Pollen of the Rose will scent the perfume-seller's heart!"
"May some pollen of the Rose," said Akbar, "fall on the heart of one whom He has appointed to sell His perfume to mankind. He has raised me to be a Kaliph—to be His Vice-regent on earth—to do His work. But I see the wise Badaoni shakes his head. Speak, friend, and speak your mind freely, and the learned Abul Fazel will reply to you. I would fain listen and gather wisdom from your controversy, for Alla has gifted you both with high gifts, and it is the joy of my soul to learn from those to whom it is given to speak."
"I have studied the histories of all Moslem lands like Persia and Arabia and Egypt," proudly replied the grave historian, "and I find the religion of Islam accepted everywhere. I have not heard of any new faith preached in any Moslem land."
"You speak of lands," replied Abul Fazel, "where the people have one faith, and where the King and the subjects are all Moslems."
"That was not so a thousand years ago, Abul Fazel. Persia followed the teachings of Zoroaster, and Egypt had an older faith recorded in their hieroglyphic inscriptions; but the teachings of our Prophet Mahomet came and swept away all impure faiths from those lands. And much we hoped that, under great and wise Moslem emperors, the land of Hind, too, would be purged of its false faiths and graven images, and would accept the pure faith taught by Mahomet, the last of the Prophets. Why should we not witness in India what has happened in Arabia and Persia and Egypt?"
"I admire your zeal, most learned of historians. But do you know, my friend, that the population of Arabia or Persia, or of Egypt could settle down and be lost in one of the fifteen Provinces of His Majesty's Indian Empire? Do you know that instead of a few millions living along the Nile, in the sands of Arabia or on the highlands of Persia, we have a hundred million people in this Empire, mostly wedded to an ancient philosophy and faith which no conqueror has shaken from the time of Alexander the Great of glorious memory?"
"Pardon me, learned Abul Fazel, but vaster continents have embraced the True Faith proclaimed by the Prophet, and within a hundred years after his death the cavalry of Islam drank the waters of the Oxus, the Nile and the Tagus. Asia, Africa and Europe knew of the faith of Islam when it was spread by faithful servants of God under the rule of the Kalifs of Bagad, who owned the Prophet."
"Greatly do I venerate the memory of those Kalifs, noble Badaoni, and greatly do I value their work in uniting the scattered and nomadic races of Tartary and Tripoli, Tunis, Algiers and Morocco, in the worship of One True God. But ancient and populous countries like India and China seek the truth in their own way and according to their own ancient Scriptures. And so long as they all seek the truth it matters little, my friend, in what form they seek it, and in what tongue they proclaim it. Our Emperor's object is to unite not to divide."
"But His Majesty's great predecessors," retorted the irrepressible Badaoni, "sought to unite nations in a different way, my friend. The great Kalifs of old proclaimed the Moslem faith even in Europe, and the crescent flew in Spain for five hundred years."
"And why does it not fly there now, my friend? They were great and mighty, the Saracens of Spain. They built palaces, established colleges, spread learning and arts, and lighted the torch of civilisation in Europe; but they failed to conciliate the Christian population under their sway. And a rule which subsists not in the hearts and wishes of the people does not endure. Our noble Emperor seeks to found a lasting Empire in India in the contentment of the people."
"Pardon me, my friend, but other conquerors have succeeded the Saracens of Spain, and Europe is not yet lost to Islam. A hundred years before our Emperor came to the throne of Hindustan a great soldier of Islam took Constantinople, the ancient capital of the Christians, and his brave successors are to-day carrying the banners of Islam into the heart of Europe."
"Great is the valour of those who have fought and won in Europe, learned Badaoni, and may their rule and their glory last. But trust an old man who has studied something of statecraft as well as of history. It is not valour in the field that perpetuates an Empire. The Turks are a great and valiant people, but their hold over Europe is even now feeble. Sometime, perhaps, a Young Turkey will arise which will learn to consolidate its rule by conciliating the Christian populations of their Empire."
"The True Faith, Abul Fazel, submits to no compromises with unbelievers," urged the Badaoni with rising ardour.
"The True Faith descends to no mean devices like force or compulsion," calmly replied Abul Fazel. "Rulers are but trustees, my friend, and rule by the wishes of their people."
Badaoni remained silent for a while, but bigoted men are never shaken in their convictions. And the historian was not the man to hide his convictions, even before his Sovereign.
"It is not for your humble servant, Abul Fazel, to judge of the statecraft which you have learnt these fifty years, but I would be untrue to Islam if I submitted in silence. The true faith, as I have said, makes no unholy compromises with infidels. The faith of Islam shall triumph in India when your new eclecticism, which you call the Divine Faith, will pass away like a vision, a dream."
"Be it so, Badaoni. I shall be content to be remembered as a humble servant of God who dared to preach from the shadow of the throne the same truth which so many saints are preaching to-day from their cottages to listening millions."
"But the Empire of Islam rests more secure on the sword of the faithful than on the teachings of unbelievers. Pardon a humble student of history if he dares speak of His Majesty's Imperial policy, but that was not the policy of the Moslem conquerors of India from the time of Mahmud of Ghazni, and that will not be the policy of future Moslem rulers of India. Monarchs will spring from this Royal House who will teach the infidels their proper place and will rule India by the sword, as half of the earth is ruled by Moslem potentates to-day."
This was an attack on the Emperor himself, and Badaoni was getting heated in the controversy. But the great Akbar allowed the utmost latitude to his learned men when they came to hold disputations before him, and he calmly replied to the historian when Abul Fazel wisely held his tongue.
"Monarchs may arise, Badaoni, from my Royal House who will some day substitute force for conciliation, but they will not hold together these dominions long. The soldiers of the Empire are brave, its cavalry is swift, its forts are impregnable, its guns are formidable. But seest thou yon poor wood-cutter who is carrying his bundle of faggots at this early hour to sell it in the Agra bazaar for a few copper coins? Trust me, friend, he in his loin-cloth and tattered garments represents a force which is more irresistible than the forces of the Empire. It is by his good will that we build the Empire; it is by his approval that we rule, it is by his discontent that we fall. I have not thy learning, friend, nor do I know much of past Empires which have risen and fallen, but believe an old man who has dealt with men and nations—no Empire endures on earth where the monarch does not rule with the consent of the people, spoken or unspoken. My rule, I humbly trust, has the approbation of the people from Kabul to Bengal, and if any of my sons or grandsons seeks to alienate their affections and support, I give him fifty years to wreck this great Empire, and I have made a liberal allowance."