HE visit of the Bab to Medina
marked the concluding stage of His pilgrimage to Hijaz. From thence
He returned to Jaddih, and by way of the sea
regained His native land. He landed at Bushihr
nine lunar months after He had embarked on His pilgrimage
from that port. In the same khan(1) which He had previously
occupied, He received His friends and relatives, who had
come to greet and welcome Him. While still in Bushihr, He
summoned Quddus to His presence and with the utmost
kindness bade him depart for Shiraz. "The days of your
companionship with Me," He told him, "are drawing to a
close. The hour of separation has struck, a separation which
no reunion will follow except in the Kingdom of God, in the
presence of the King of Glory. In this world of dust, no
more than nine fleeting months of association with Me have
been allotted to you. On the shores of the Great Beyond,
however, in the realm of immortality, joy of eternal reunion
awaits us. The hand of destiny will ere long plunge you
into an ocean of tribulation for His sake. I, too, will follow
you; I, too, will be immersed beneath its depths. Rejoice
with exceeding gladness, for you have been chosen as the
standard-bearer of the host of affliction, and are standing
in the vanguard of the noble army that will suffer martyrdom
in His name. In the streets of Shiraz, indignities will be
heaped upon you, and the severest injuries will afflict your
body. You will survive the ignominious behaviour of your
foes, and will attain the presence of Him who is the one object
of our adoration and love. In His presence you will forget
all the harm and disgrace that shall have befallen you. The
hosts of the Unseen will hasten forth to assist you, and will
143
llah."(3) Mulla Sadiq, who in those days had
been extolling from the pulpit-top to large audiences the virtues of the
imams of the Faith, was so enraptured by the theme and
language of that treatise that he unhesitatingly resolved to
carry out all the observances it ordained. Driven by the
impelling force inherent in that Tablet, he, one day as he
was leading his congregation in prayer in the Masjid-i-Naw,
suddenly proclaimed, as he was sounding the adhan,
the additional words prescribed by the Bab. The multitude that
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heard him was astounded by his cry. Dismay and consternation
seized the entire congregation. The distinguished
divines, who occupied the front seats and who were greatly
revered for their pious orthodoxy, raised a clamour, loudly
protesting: "Woe betide us, the guardians and protectors of
the Faith of God! Behold, this man has hoisted the standard
of heresy. Down with this infamous traitor! He has spoken
blasphemy. Arrest him, for he is a disgrace to our Faith."
"Who," they angrily exclaimed, "dared authorise such grave
departure from the established precepts of Islam? Who has
presumed to arrogate to himself this supreme prerogative?"
The populace re-echoed the protestations of these divines,
and arose to reinforce their clamour. The whole city had
been aroused, and public order was, as a result, seriously
threatened. The governor of the province of Fars, Husayn
Khan-i-Iravani, surnamed Ajudan-Bashi, and generally designated
in those days as Sahib-Ikhtiyar,(1) found it necessary
to intervene and to enquire into the cause of this sudden
commotion. He was informed that a disciple of a young
man named Siyyid-i-Bab, who had just returned from His
pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina and was now living in
Bushihr, had arrived in Shiraz and was propagating the
teachings of his Master. "This disciple," Husayn Khan was
further informed, "claims that his teacher is the author of a
new revelation and is the revealer of a book which he asserts
is divinely inspired. Mulla Sadiq-i-Khurasani has embraced
that faith, and is fearlessly summoning the multitude to the
acceptance of that message. He declares its recognition to
be the first obligation of every loyal and pious follower of
shi'ah Islam."
Husayn Khan ordered the arrest of both Quddus and
Mulla Sadiq. The police authorities, to whom they were
delivered, were instructed to bring them handcuffed into the
presence of the governor. The police also delivered into the
hands of Husayn Khan the copy of the Qayyumu'l-Asma',
which they had seized from Mulla Sadiq while he was reading
aloud its passages to an excited congregation. Quddus,
owing to his youthful appearance and unconventional dress,
was at first ignored by Husayn Khan, who preferred to direct
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of joyous exultation had invaded my soul. I was trying to
repress my feelings and to restrain my laughter. I can now
realise how the almighty Deliverer is able, in the twinkling
of an eye, to turn pain into ease, and sorrow into gladness.
Immensely exalted is His power above and beyond the idle
fancy of His mortal creatures.'" Mulla Sadiq, whom I met
years after, confirmed every detail of this moving episode.
Husayn Khan's anger was not appeased by this atrocious
and most undeserved chastisement. His wanton and capricious
cruelty found further vent in the assault which he
now directed against the person of the Bab.(1) He despatched
to Bushihr a mounted escort of his own trusted guard, with
emphatic instructions to arrest the Bab and to bring Him in
chains to Shiraz. The leader of that escort, a member of the
Nusayri community, better known as the sect of Aliyu'llahi,
related the following: "Having completed the third
stage of our journey to Bushihr, we encountered, in the
midst of the wilderness a youth who wore a green sash and
a small turban after the manner of the siyyids who are in
the trading profession. He was on horseback, and was followed
by an Ethiopian servant who was in charge of his
belongings. As we approached him, he saluted us and enquired
as to our destination. I thought it best to conceal
from him the truth, and replied that in this vicinity we had
been commanded by the governor of Fars to conduct a certain
enquiry. He smilingly observed: `The governor has sent you
to arrest Me. Here am I; do with Me as you please. By
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coming out to meet you, I have curtailed the length of your
march, and have made it easier for you to find Me.' I was
startled by his remarks and marvelled at his candour and
straightforwardness. I could not explain, however, his readiness
to subject himself, of his own accord, to the severe discipline
of government officials, and to risk thereby his own
life and safety. I tried to ignore him, and was preparing
to leave, when he approached me and said: `I swear by the
righteousness of Him who created man, distinguished him
from among the rest of His creatures, and caused his heart
to be made the seat of His sovereignty and knowledge, that
all My life I have uttered no word but the truth, and had no
other desire except the welfare and advancement of My
fellow-men. I have disdained My own ease and have avoided
being the cause of pain or sorrow to anyone. I know that
you are seeking Me. I prefer to deliver Myself into your
hands, rather than subject you and your companions to unnecessary
annoyance for My sake.' These words moved me
profoundly. I instinctively dismounted from my horse, and,
kissing his stirrups, addressed him in these words: `O light
of the eyes of the Prophet of God! I adjure you, by Him
who has created you and endowed you with such loftiness
and power, to grant my request and to answer my prayer.
I beseech you to escape from this place and to flee from before
the face of Husayn Khan, the ruthless and despicable governor
of this province. I dread his machinations against you;
I rebel at the idea of being made the instrument of his malignant
designs against so innocent and noble a descendant
of the Prophet of God. My companions are all honourable
men. Their word is their bond. They will pledge themselves
not to betray your flight. I pray you, betake yourself
to the city of Mashhad in Khurasan, and avoid falling a
victim to the brutality of this remorseless wolf.' To my
earnest entreaty he gave this answer: `May the Lord your
God requite you for your magnanimity and noble intention.
No one knows the mystery of My Cause; no one can fathom
its secrets. Never will I turn My face away from the decree
of God. He alone is My sure Stronghold, My Stay and My
Refuge. Until My last hour is at hand, none dare assail Me,
none can frustrate the plan of the Almighty. And when
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Shaykh Abu-Turab was known to be a man of kindly disposition,
and of a temperament and nature which bore a
striking resemblance to the character of the late Mirza
Abu'l-Qasim, the Imam-Jum'ih of Tihran. He was extremely
reluctant to treat with contumely persons of recognised
standing, particularly if these were residents of Shiraz. Instinctively
he felt this to be his duty, observed it conscientiously,
and was as a result universally esteemed by the people
of that city. He therefore sought, through evasive answers
and repeated postponements, to appease the indignation of
the multitude. He found, however, that the stirrers-up of
mischief and sedition were bending every effort further to
inflame the feelings of general resentment which had seized
the masses. He at length felt compelled to address a confidential
message to Haji Mirza Siyyid Ali, requesting him
to bring the Bab with him on Friday to the Masjid-i-Vakil,
that He might fulfil the pledge He had given. "My hope,"
he added, "is that by the aid of God the statements of your
nephew may ease the tenseness of the situation and may
lead to your tranquillity as well as to our own."
The Bab, accompanied by Haji Mirza Siyyid Ali, arrived
at the Masjid at a time when the Imam-Jum'ih had just
ascended the pulpit and was preparing to deliver his sermon.
As soon as his eyes fell upon the Bab, he publicly welcomed
Him, requested Him to ascend the pulpit, and called upon
Him to address the congregation. The Bab, responding to
his invitation, advanced towards him and, standing on the
first step of the staircase, prepared to address the people.
"Come up higher," interjected the Imam-Jum'ih. Complying
with his wish, the Bab ascended two more steps. As He was
standing, His head hid the breast of Shaykh Abu-Turab,
who was occupying the pulpit-top. He began by prefacing
His public declaration with an introductory discourse. No
sooner had He uttered the opening words of "Praise be to
God, who hath in truth created the heavens and the earth,"
than a certain siyyid known as Siyyidi-Shish-Pari, whose
function was to carry the mace before the Imam-Jum'ih,
insolently shouted: "Enough of this idle chatter! Declare,
now and immediately, the thing you intend to say." The
Imam-Jum'ih greatly resented the rudeness of the siyyid's
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The Bab regained His home and for some time was able
to lead, in the privacy of His house, and in close association
with His family and kinsmen, a life of comparative tranquillity.
In those days He celebrated the advent of the
first Naw-Ruz since He had declared His Mission. That
festival fell, in that year, on the tenth day of the month of
Rabi'u'l-Avval, 1261 A.H.(1) A few among those who were present on that memorable
occasion in the Masjid-i-Vakil, and had listened to the statements
of the Bab, were greatly impressed by the masterly
manner in which that Youth had, by His unaided efforts,
succeeded in silencing His formidable opponents. Soon after
this event, they were each led to apprehend the reality of
His Mission and to recognise its glory. Among them was
Shaykh Ali Mirza, the nephew of this same Imam-Jum'ih,
a young man who had just attained the age of maturity.
The seed implanted in his heart grew and developed, until
in the year 1267 A.H.(2) he was privileged to meet Baha'u'llah
in Iraq. That visit filled him with enthusiasm and joy.
Returning greatly refreshed to his native land, he resumed
with redoubled energy his labours for the Cause. From that
year until the present time, he has persevered in his task,
and has achieved distinction by the uprightness of his character
and whole-hearted devotion to his government and
country. Recently a letter addressed by him to Baha'u'llah
has reached the Holy Land, in which he expresses his keen
satisfaction at the progress of the Cause in Persia. "I am
mute with wonder," he writes, "when I behold the evidences
of God's unconquerable power manifested among the people
of my country. In a land which has for years so savagely
persecuted the Faith, a man who for forty years has been
known throughout Persia as a Babi, has been made the sole
arbitrator in a case of dispute which involves, on the one
hand, the Zillu's-Sultan, the tyrannical son of the Shah and a
sworn enemy of the Cause, and, on the other, Mirza Fath-'Ali
Khan, the Sahib-i-Divan. It has been publicly announced
that whatsoever be the verdict of this Babi, the same should
be unreservedly accepted by both parties and should be unhesitatingly
enforced."
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was intimately associated with him, and was a faithful attendant at the Friday congregational prayer.
The Naw-Ruz of that year, which heralded the advent
of a new springtime, was also symbolic of that spiritual rebirth,
the first stirring of which could already be discerned
throughout the length and breadth of the land. A number of
the most eminent and learned among the people of that
country emerged from the wintry desolation of heedlessness,
and were quickened by the reviving breath of the new-born
Revelation. The seeds which the Hand of Omnipotence had
implanted in their hearts germinated into blossoms of the
purest and loveliest fragrance.(1) As the breeze of His loving-kindness
and tender mercy wafted over these blossoms, the
penetrating power of their perfume spread far and wide over
the face of all that land. It diffused itself even beyond
the confines of Persia. It reached Karbila and reanimated the
souls of those who were waiting in expectation for the return
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acquisition of every available branch of human learning. I
often discussed the knowledge which I acquired with my
fellow-disciples, and sought by this means to enrich my experience.
At night, I would retire to my home, and, in the
seclusion of my library, would devote many an hour to undisturbed
study. I was so immersed in my labours that I
grew indifferent to both sleep and hunger. Within two years
I had resolved to master the intricacies of Muslim jurisprudence
and theology. I was a faithful attendant at the
lectures given by Mulla Abdu'l-Karim-i-Iravani, who, in
those days, ranked as the most outstanding divine of Qazvin.
I greatly admired his vast erudition, his piety and virtue.
Every night during the period that I was his disciple, I devoted
my time to the writing of a treatise which I submitted
to him and which he revised with care and interest. He
seemed to be greatly pleased with my progress, and often
extolled my high attainments. One day, in the presence of
his assembled disciples, he declared: `The learned and sagacious
Mulla Abdu'l-Karim has qualified himself to expound
authoritatively the sacred Scriptures of Islam. He no longer
needs to attend either my classes or those of my equals. I
shall, please God, celebrate his elevation to the rank of a
mujtahid on the morning of the coming Friday, and will
deliver his certificate to him after the congregational prayer.'
"No sooner had Mulla Abdu'l-Karim spoken these words
and departed than his disciples came forward and heartily
congratulated me on my accomplishments. I returned,
greatly elated, to my home. Upon my arrival I discovered
that both my father and my elder uncle, Haji Husayn-'Ali,
both of whom were greatly esteemed throughout Qazvin,
were preparing a feast in my honour, with which they intended
to celebrate the completion of my studies. I requested them
to postpone the invitation they had extended to the notables
of Qazvin until further notice from me. They gladly consented,
believing that in my eagerness for such a festival I
would not unduly postpone it. That night I repaired to my
library and, in the privacy of my cell, pondered the following
thoughts in my heart: Had you not fondly imagined, I said
to myself, that only the sanctified in spirit could ever hope
to attain the station of an authoritative expounder of the
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sacred Scriptures of Islam? Was it not your belief that whoso
attained this station would be immune from error? Are you
not already accounted among those who enjoy that rank?
Has not Qazvin's most distinguished divine recognised and
declared you to be such? Be fair. Do you in your own
heart regard yourself as having attained that state of purity
and sublime detachment which you, in days past, considered
the requisites for one who aspires to reach that exalted position?
Think you yourself to be free from every taint of
selfish desire? As I sat musing, a feeling of my own unworthiness
gradually overpowered me. I recognised myself as still
a victim of cares and perplexities, of temptations and doubts.
I was oppressed by such thoughts as to how I should conduct
my classes, how to lead my congregation in prayer, how to
enforce the laws and precepts of the Faith. I felt continually
anxious as to how I should discharge my duties, how to
ensure the superiority of my achievements over those who
had preceded me. I was overcome with such a sense of
humiliation that I felt impelled to seek forgiveness from God.
Your aim in acquiring all this learning, I thought to myself,
has been to unravel the mystery of God and to attain the
state of certitude. Be fair. Are you sure of your own interpretation
of the Qur'an? Are you certain that the laws
which you promulgate reflect the will of God? The consciousness
of error suddenly dawned upon me. I realised for
the first time how the rust of learning had corroded my soul
and had obscured my vision. I lamented my past, and deplored
the futility of my endeavours. I knew that the people
of my own rank were subject to the same afflictions. As
soon as they had acquired this so-called learning, they would
claim to be the exponents of the law of Islam and would
arrogate to themselves the exclusive privilege of pronouncing
upon its doctrine.
"I remained absorbed in my thoughts until dawn. That
night I neither ate nor slept. At times I would commune
with God: `Thou seest me, O my Lord, and Thou beholdest
my plight. Thou knowest that I cherish no other desire except
Thy holy will and pleasure. I am lost in bewilderment
at the thought of the multitude of sects into which Thy holy
Faith hath fallen. I am deeply perplexed when I behold the
165
schisms that have torn the religions of the past. Wilt Thou
guide me in my perplexities, and relieve me of my doubts?
Whither am I to turn for consolation and guidance?' I wept
so bitterly that night that I seemed to have lost consciousness.
There suddenly came to me the vision of a great gathering of
people, the expression of whose shining faces greatly impressed
me. A noble figure, attired in the garb of a siyyid,
occupied a seat on the pulpit facing the congregation. He
was expounding the meaning of this sacred verse of the Qur'an:
`Whoso maketh efforts for Us, in Our ways will We guide
them.' I was fascinated by his face. I arose, advanced
towards him, and was on the point of throwing myself at his
feet when that vision suddenly vanished. My heart was
flooded with light. My joy was indescribable.
"I immediately decided to consult Haji Allah-Vardi,
father of Muhammad-Javad-i-Farhadi, a man known throughout
Qazvin for his deep spiritual insight. When I related
to him my vision, he smiled and with extraordinary precision
described to me the distinguishing features of the siyyid who
had appeared to me. `That noble figure,' he added, `was
none other than Haji Siyyid Kazim-i-Rashti, who is now in
Karbila and who may be seen expounding every day to his
disciples the sacred teachings of Islam. Those who listen
to his discourse are refreshed and edified by his utterance.
I can never describe the impression which his words exert
upon his hearers.' I joyously arose and, expressing to him
my feelings of profound appreciation, retired to my home and
started forthwith on my journey to Karbila. My old fellow-disciples
came and entreated me either to call in person on
the learned Mulla Abdu'l-Karim, who had expressed a desire
to meet me, or to allow him to come to my house. `I feel
the impulse,' I replied, `to visit the shrine of the Imam Husayn
at Karbila. I have vowed to start immediately on that
pilgrimage. I cannot postpone my departure. I will, if
possible, visit him for a few moments when I start to leave
the city. If I cannot, I would beg him to excuse me and to
pray in my behalf that I may be guided on the straight path.'
"I confidentially acquainted my relatives with the nature
of my vision and its interpretation. I informed them of my
projected visit to Karbila. My words to them that very day
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instilled the love of Siyyid Kazim in their hearts. They felt
greatly drawn to Haji Allah-Vardi, freely associated with
him, and became his fervent admirers.
"My brother, Abdu'l-Hamid [who later quaffed the cup
of martyrdom in Tihran], accompanied me on my journey
to Karbila. There I met Siyyid Kazim and was amazed to
hear him discourse to his assembled disciples under exactly
the same circumstances as he had appeared to me in my
vision. I was astounded when I discovered, upon my arrival,
that he was expounding the meaning of the same verse which
he, when he appeared to me, was explaining to his disciples.
As I sat and listened to him, I was greatly impressed by the
force of his argument and the profundity of his thoughts.
He graciously received me and showed me the utmost kindness.
My brother and I both felt an inner joy we had never
before experienced. At the hour of dawn we would hasten
to his home, and would accompany him on his visit to the
shrine of the Imam Husayn.
"I spent the entire winter in close companionship with
him. During the whole of that period, I faithfully attended
his classes. Every time I listened to his speech, I heard him
describe a particular aspect of the manifestation of the promised
Qa'im. This theme constituted the sole subject of his
discourses. Whichever verse or tradition he happened to
be expounding, he would invariably conclude his commentary
on it with a particular reference to the advent of the promised
Revelation. `The promised One,' he would openly and repeatedly
declare, lives in the midst of this people. The appointed
time for His appearance is fast approaching. Prepare
the way for Him, and purify yourselves so that you may recognise
His beauty. Not until I depart from this world will the
day-star of His countenance be revealed. It behoves you
after my departure to arise and seek Him. You should not
rest for one moment until you find Him.'
"After the celebration of Naw-Ruz, Siyyid Kazim bade
me depart from Karbila. `Rest assured, O Abdu'l-Karim,'
he told me as he bade me farewell, `you are of those who, in
the Day of His Revelation, will arise for the triumph of His
Cause. You will, I hope, remember me on that blessed Day.'
I besought him to allow me to remain in Karbila, pleading
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that my return to Qazvin would arouse the enmity of the
mullas of that city. `Let your trust be wholly in God,' was
his reply. `Ignore entirely their machinations. Engage in
trade, and rest assured that their protestations will never
succeed in harming you.' I followed his advice, and together
with my brother set out for Qazvin.
"Immediately upon my arrival, I undertook to carry out
the counsel of Siyyid Kazim. With the instructions he had
given me, I was able to silence every malicious opposer. I
devoted my days to the transaction of my business; at night
I would regain my home and, in the quiet of my chamber,
would consecrate my time to meditation and prayer. With
tearful eyes I would commune with God and would beseech
Him, saying: `Thou hast, by the mouth of Thine inspired
servant, promised that I shall attain unto Thy Day, and shall
behold Thy Revelation. Thou hast, through him, assured
me that I shall be among those who will arise for the triumph
of Thy Cause. How long wilt Thou withhold from me Thy
promise? When will the hand of Thy loving-kindness unlock
to me the door of Thy grace, and confer upon me Thy everlasting
bounty?' Every night I would renew this prayer and
would continue in my supplications until the break of day.
"One night, on the eve of the day of Arafih, in the year
1255 A.H.(1) I was so wrapt in prayer that I seemed to have
fallen into a trance. There appeared before me a bird, white
as the snow, which hovered above my head and alighted upon
the twig of a tree beside me. In accents of indescribable
sweetness, that bird voiced these words: `Are you seeking
the Manifestation, O Abdu'l-Karim? Lo, the year '60.'
Immediately after, the bird flew away and vanished. The
mystery of those words greatly agitated me. The memory
of the beauty of that vision lingered long in my mind. I
seemed to have tasted all the delights of Paradise. My joy
was irrepressible.
"The mystic message of that bird had penetrated my
soul and was continually on my lips. I revolved it constantly
in my mind. I shared it with no one, fearing lest its sweetness
forsake me. A few years later, the Call from Shiraz reached
my ears. The day I heard it, I hastened to that city. On
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my way I met, in Tihran, Mulla Muhammad-i-Mu'allim,
who acquainted me with the nature of this Call, and informed
me that those who had acknowledged it had gathered in
Karbila and were awaiting the return of their Leader from
Hijaz. I immediately departed for that city. From Hamadan,
Mulla Javad-i-Baraghani, to my great distress, accompanied
me to Karbila, where I was privileged to meet you as
well as the rest of the believers. I continued to treasure
within my heart the strange message conveyed to me by that
bird. When I subsequently attained the presence of the Bab
and heard from His lips those same words, spoken in the same
tone and language as I had heard them, I realised their significance.
I was so overwhelmed by their power and glory
that I instinctively fell at His feet and magnified His name."
In the early days of the year 1265 A.H.,(1) I set out, at the
age of eighteen, from my native village of Zarand for Qum,
where I chanced to meet Siyyid Isma'il-i-Zavari'i, surnamed
Dhabih, who later on, while in Baghdad, offered up his life
as a sacrifice in the path of Baha'u'llah. Through him I was
led to recognise the new Revelation. He was then preparing
to leave for Mazindaran and had determined to join the
heroic defenders of the fort of Shaykh Tabarsi. He had intended
to take me with him, together with Mirza Fathu'llah-i-Hakkak,
a lad of my age, who was a resident of Qum. As
circumstances interfered with his plan, he promised before
his departure that he would communicate with us from
Tihran and would ask us to join him. In the course of his
conversation with Mirza Fathu'llah and me, he related to
us the account of Mulla Abdu'l-Karim's marvellous experience.
I was seized with an ardent desire to meet him. When
I subsequently arrived at Tihran and met Siyyid Isma'il in
the Madrisiy-i-Daru'sh-Shafay-i-Masjid-i-Shah, I was introduced
by him to this same Mulla Abdu'l-Karim, who was
then living in that same madrisih. In those days we were
informed that the struggle of Shaykh Tabarsi had come to
an end, and that those companions of the Bab who had
gathered in Tihran and were contemplating joining their
brethren had each returned to his own province unable to
achieve his goal. Mulla Abdu'l-Karim remained in the
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capital, where he devoted his time to transcribing the Persian
Bayan. My close association with him at that time served
to deepen my love and admiration for him. I still feel, after
the lapse of eight and thirty years since our first interview in
Tihran, the warmth of his friendship and the fervour of his
faith. My feelings of affectionate regard for him prompted
me to dwell at length upon the circumstances of his early
life, culminating in what may be regarded as the turning
point of his whole career. May it in turn serve to awaken
the reader to the glory of this momentous Revelation.