1849.] Sense in which Death is the End of Man. 227 like Job he speaks of us as the merest ephemerae (Pyth. VIII. 'E. é), or beings "crushed before the moth,"-as a passing shade,-as the shadow of a dream, or the dream of a shadow. Επάμεροι τί δέ τις; τί δ' οὔ τις ΣΚΙΑΣ ὄναρ άνθρωπος. The poet Moschus, from whom we have quoted that touching comparison, so much resembling Job's, and seeming to imply a hopeless cessation of human existence, had just before in the very same poem, spoken of his departed friend as "still singing sweet strains in the realm of Hades." Homer certainly manifests an undoubting belief in a ghostly world, or separate place of souls, as the settled opinion of his day, and yet he does not hesitate at other times, to speak of us as the most transient and ephemeral of all existences; púlλwv yɛven, "leaves which the winds scatter upon the ground, and which perish in every revolving season," (see the lines quoted p. 212). One of his most common epithets of death, is etymologically opposed to every idea of continuous conscious being-raryλerns-not simply lying prostrate, as some grammarians say, but rather long-oblivious or uncaring. The term seems to be derived directly from the most exclusively phenomenal aspect of mortality. The Christian, too, as we have said, may indulge, and sometimes rightly indulge, in similar pensive strains. It is good for him sometimes to contemplate this mere physical aspect of frail humanity, and he may do so without any disparagement of his highest and purest faith. Of this kind are the lines from Beattie's minstrel above quoted. Such effusions are frequent in the poetry of the pious and heavenly minded Watts. With what solemnity of feeling does Dr. Dwight indulge in the expression of similar thoughts: In those lone, silent realms of night, Shall peace and hope no more arise? Nor day-star gild the morning skies? Such language, we say, even when unqualified by anything of a contrary kind, is not only lawful, but appropriate, when the mind is led by peculiar circumstances to dwell on the physical frailty of our human state, as presented in most impressive contrast with the real eternity of God, and the apparent eternity of nature. We may properly wish to take a steady view of this side of our being, unaffected, for the moment, by any other considerations; or we may entertain such thoughts as preparatory to, and suggestive of, a higher faith in our moral and spiritual relations. On either ground, it is a sufficient justi fication for us, that the language occurs so often in the Scriptures, not only in the Old Testament, but also, occasionally, in the New. We therefore adopt, without misgiving, into our hymns, and, at times, even into our prayers, the very words which are found in passages of this nature, from Job and the Psalms. We sing and repeat, with emotion, in which there mingles no consciousness of inconsistency, such lines as these Silence and solitude and gloom In those forgetful realms appear; The same may be said of that solemn dirge, so often sung on funeral occasions— Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb; Take this new treasure to thy trust; Invade thy bounds; no mortal woes Can reach the peaceful sleeper here. We feel no inconsistency between such strains and the bright hopes to which they sometimes serve as the dark, minor prelude. They no more jar upon our speculative theology, than that touching language of the New Testament which represents death under the soothing conception of a sleep. In the same way, and on the same principle, are we fond of employing the words of the Preacher, whose sermon was ever upon the frailty and nothingness of the present life, and the silence which, to the natural ear, seems to rest on all beyond it." The living know that they must die, but the dead know not anything; their love, their hatred, their zeal, has perished; they have no part in anything that is done beneath the sun. There are no acts of pardon passed In the cold grave to which we haste. The pious and intelligent Christian discovers no inconsistency here. All is in accordance with his own most serious feelings and thoughts, until "rational criticism" steps in and turns into infidel poison one of the most interesting and instructive portions of Holy Writ. Even He who brought life and immortality to light, not by revealing, but by shedding light upon Sheol-even He seems to give us a warrant for occasionally dwelling on this aspect of humanity, when he speaks of "the night coming, in which no man can work." The very 1849.] The Soofees. 229 fact, then, that such passages, from the Old Testament, so well fall in with even a Christian train of thought, shows that our nature may yet sympathize with this language of the Idumean Mourner; and that, even with our boast of a better faith and a higher spirituality, he was, after all, not so far behind us practically, however dark he may have been in his theoretical views. [To be concluded.] ARTICLE II. THE SOOFEES. Compiled from Tholuck's SsUFISMUS sive Theosophia Persarum Pantheistica, and from other sources, by Daniel P. Noyes, M. A., Byfield, Mass. THE Soofees are a sect of Mohammedan Mystics, or Quietists. "Traces of the Soofee doctrine," says Sir John Malcolm, “exist, in some shape or other, in every region of the world. It is to be found in the most splendid theories of the ancient schools of Greece, and of the modern philosophers of Europe. It is the dream of the most ignorant and the most learned, and is seen at one time indulging in the shade of ease, at another traversing the pathless desert." The opinions of this sect have prevailed most extensively in Hindostan and Persia. At the time when the author just quoted wrote his history (which was published in 1829), their numbers, in the latter kingdom, were estimated by some as high as two, or even three hundred thousand; and the great reputation acquired by one of their ancient priests, enabled his descendants to occupy the Persian throne from A. D. 1500 to. 1736. The name (Soofee) is derived, in the opinion of Tholuck, from the Arabic "sof" (wool), in allusion to the material of their garments. Others have referred it to the Arabic "sufa" (pure), and some to the Greek "oogós" (wise). 66 A variety of opinions have prevailed, likewise, with regard to the origin of the Soofic doctrines. Some have been disposed to look for it in the philosophy of India; others, in that of Greece; and Tholuck was, at one time, inclined to the opinion that it took its rise shortly after the death of Haroun Al Raschid, among the Magi of Khorassan. But these views, on thorough examination, appear to be untenable; and we must, therefore, look to Mohammedanism itself, and the native character of the Eastern nations, for the source of this ancient mysticism. VOL. VI. No. 22. 20 Mohammed found the Arabs strongly inclined to monastic life; and, for the purpose of checking this tendency, he declared that "the journey to Mecca was accepted, by the Most High God, in its place." But his effort was unavailing. For in less than thirty years after his death, hermits had become numerous in the deserts; and so strong was the national propensity, that even the most eminent of his followers, Abubeker and Ali, were founders of monastic communities. These were the parents of the later organizations of like nature, and from them, even as late as the twelfth century, Soofism derived all its most famous doctors. The genius and the opinions of those holy men who were placed at the head of these associations, and whose memoirs have employed the ablest pens, furnish the most satisfactory proofs that the Soofic mysticism was something well known in that age. Anecdotes and sayings illustrative of this fact are abundant. The following may be taken as an example of them: Among the most distinguished of these Mohammedan pietists was a woman named Rabia, who died in the 135th year of the Hegira. In the Teskirat ol Aulia (Lives of the Saints), by Ferededdin Attar, occurs the following: Once when Rabia was sick, Hassan Bassriensis, with Malik Dinar, and Schakik Balchi, came to see her. Hassan remarked, " He is not sincere in his prayers who refuses to endure the chastisements of the Lord." Then Shakik demurred, and said, “He is not sincere in his prayers who does not rejoice in the chastisements of the Lord." But Rabia, detecting an odor of self (egoitatis) in these words, spake as follows: "He is not sincere in his prayers who, looking upon his Lord, does not altogether forget the chastisements." Ibn Chalican (a historian of high authority) relates of Rabia, that she was accustomed, late at night, to ascend to the roof of the house, and there to cry aloud: "O my God! The tumults of day are silent now, voices are hushed, and in secret the maiden rejoices with her lover; but I, in the solitude, delight in thy society, for Thee I avow to be my true lover." Another saying of Rabia is particularly note-worthy: Once when walking over the pastures, she exclaimed: "Longing for God seizes me. The turf and stone, indeed, art Thou; but yet Thee, Thyself, I long to see." Then the Most High God, in his own person, without intervening instrumentality, spake in her heart, "O Rabia! hath it never reached your ears, how, when Moses prayed that he might see God, the mountain, to which certain particles only of the Divine majesty manifested themselves, was violently shaken and broken asunder? Do thou, therefore, remain content with my name !"'i 1 Created things were called, by the Eastern Mystics, the names of God. 231 Rabia visited Mecca. But having seen the Kaaba, for the purpose of worshipping which she had come-"For the Lord," said she, "do I need the Kaaba? What is the Kaaba to me? For I, indeed, have approached so near unto God that I may claim the promise, He who comes an handbreadth toward me, toward him will I go an ell;' what is the Kaaba, then, to me?" Once, when urged by her friends to marry, she replied, "Now for this long time has my person been held in the bonds of wedlock; and for this reason am I wont to say, that my existence in mine own self is extinct, but re-created in God; and from that time forth, dwelling beneath the shadow of His dominion, I am wholly in Him (tota Ille sum). Therefore let him who wishes me to become his spouse, seek me, not of myself, but of God." When asked in what manner she had reached this height, "In this," she replied, "that all that I have found, I have lost in Him." But Hassan again inquiring, "By what method hast thou known Him?" “O, Hassan," she answered, "thou hast known after a method, and through certain means, but I immediately (sine modo)." Some one inquired of her, whether she beheld God while worshipping Him. "Assuredly," said she, I behold him, "for whom I cannot see, I cannot worship." Once, when taken violently ill, she was asked the cause of her sickness, and replied, "I have been dwelling upon the delights of Paradise, and therefore my Lord hath chastised me." At another time, she exclaimed, "I am inwardly consumed, and there is no cure for me, but in union with my friend. Evermore shall I pine away, until, on the last day, I reach my goal." Hassan Bassriensis is reported to have been the author of the following: "In the first place, it will happen that the blessed, through the unveiling of the Divine majesty, will be lost in ecstasy for seven hundred thousand years; through their awe of Him they will perish, and, having beheld his loveliness, they will be absorbed into unity." These examples (says Tholuck) of the mysticism of the first century of the Hegira, are by no means to be despised; and no one who is even moderately skilled in such matters, can deny that the closest agreement exists between it and Soofism; he could not fail of recognizing here the seeds and elements of the entire Soofic system. But it was not till the second century of the Hegira, that this mysticism began to make its most extraordinary developments. This age holds a marked place in the history of Mohammedanism. Scarcely had the Grecian philosophy been introduced to the followers of the prophet, when a great diversity and conflict of opinions arose. The old traditional ways of teaching and of believing were, in some places, modified; in others, abolished. Men sought, in the solitude of ascetic |