Life and Teachings of Abbas Effendi/Vi.—Characteristics And Incidents

Life and Teachings of Abbas Effendi
Vi.—Characteristics And Incidents
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[Page 95]

CHAPTER VI

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CHARACTERISTICS AND INCIDENTS

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I SHALL now collect some of my own observations with regard to Abbas Effendi, and a number of incidents of his life related to me by others, which throw light upon and illustrate his character, but which I am not able to make a part of any consecutive narrative. I am aware that in doing this I am disregarding literary symmetry ; but as my only object in preparing this book is to give those who read it as much information as possible about him and his teachings, I do not wish to omit any material which may contribute to this end.

The characteristic of Abbas Effendi, regarded as a religious leader, which is at once the most striking, the most attractive, and the most impressive, is his generous and tolerant liberality. It is disappointing to find that narrowness and intolerance have already shown themselves in the teachings of some of his followers—a perversion and degradation of true religion which [Page 96]is seen to be an almost inevitable tendency of human nature in all ages of the world, and which most religions have suffered in the hands of their adherents. The chief glory of Beha’ism is that its true spirit, as exemplified in its Great Apostle, is utterly free from it.

I shall state at length his attitude in this respect in a subsequent chapter, here merely mentioning two incidents illustrating it, which were related to me in Akka.

One was that of a gentleman who wrote to Abbas Effendi to this effect : That he recognised him as a man of great spiritual force, and one who, in urging upon men the observance of the Law of Love, was doing much in the service of humanity ; that he desired to work with him and for him ; but that also he (Abbas Effendi) had said some things with which he did not agree, and that he himself had some spiritual light, which he did not wish to surrender.

Abbas Effendi replied that he welcomed him as a co-worker ; that he asked him to give up nothing ; that he approved of his continuing to adhere to any religious faith with which he might be associated, and that the one thing necessary was to love God above all things and seek Him. [Page 97]The other case was that of a lady who was visiting Abbas Effendi in Akka. She had accepted him as her religious teacher, and desired to assist in spreading his teachings. When about to return to her home, she told him that her associations were all in the orthodox Christian Church, and that her friends would be repelled by the idea of a new religion. He advised her to return as a Christian, to remain in the Christian Church, and to teach what she had learned as the true teaching of Christ.

Abbas Effendi has another characteristic as a religious leader which seems to me to be, especially at this time, remarkably refreshing and reassuring,—he makes no claim to being a “healer” or to the performance of “miracles.” Whether or not he possesses such powers I would not undertake to say; but he certainly regards physical health as of too little importance in comparison with spiritual welfare to merit primary attention. The only real sickness which he recognises is sickness of the soul. The one and exclusive object which he has in view is the spiritual elevation of humanity—an all-sufficient end in itself, which does not require for its justification any physical gain. [Page 98]Yet, in point of fact, he says there is a physical gain in attaining spiritual health; for the normal effect of this is to promote recovery from bodily disease; and still more, in those cases where the latter is not removed by spiritual regeneration, the spirit which has experienced this change does not feel physical pain, and looks upon the sufferings of its body with the same indifference with which the ordinary man regards suffering in the body of another. The body is, therefore, sometimes restored, and pain is overcome by spiritual force; but these occurrences are properly regarded as unimportant incidents in the attainment of spiritual well-being.

Further, Abbas Effendi is very careful not to countenance any interpretation of his acts by his followers which could lead to the imputation to him of miraculous powers. The assertion of such powers for himself or for his predecessors would, he says, stand in the way of other messengers, who will come, in the future as in the past, when the world requires them. If men’s minds are fixed on miracles, which prove nothing except themselves, they will be less open to the reception of truth, or be closed entirely to the Divine Message.

He says, also, that if miracles are ascribed [Page 99]to the founders of a religion and become engrafted upon it, they will inevitably be simulated by priesthoods and other pretenders to Divine authority to mislead, delude, and defraud the ignorant masses of mankind, as illustrated by the greater part of the past history of Christianity, and by the hundreds of quacks and impostors who at the present day practise their shameful impositions upon the people in the name of Christ.

So, too, Abbas Effendi discourages everything tending to centre attention upon himself or to exalt his personality into an object of devotion or worship. He has had numerous applications for his photograph, but always declines to have it taken. His reply to these requests is : “ I do not wish to have men think of my personality or my form. The personality changes, the form passes away : there is nothing permanent about them. All this must die — must pass out of the recollection of men. But deeds and words never die. These are my sign : it is these only which I wish to leave to the believers and to the world.”

His only claim or description of himself is, “ Servant of God,” or “ Servant of Beha Ullah,” or “ Servant of the servants of Beha Ullah.”

Beha Ullah bestowed many titles upon him [Page 100](see page 80), but as to these he says that they were all given by favour, and that they mean but one thing — “Servant.”

As might be expected from this lack of self-assertion, Abbas Effendi’s life is spent in quiet and unassuming work. His general order for the day is prayers and tea at sunrise, and dictating letters or “Tablets,” receiving visitors, and giving alms to the poor until dinner in the middle of the day. After this meal he takes a half-hour’s siesta, spends the afternoon in making visits to the sick and others whom he has occasion to see about the city, and the evening in talking to the believers or in expounding, to any who wish to hear him, the Koran, on which, even among Moslems, he is reputed to be one of the highest authorities, learned men of that faith frequently coming from great distances to consult him with regard to its interpretation.

He then returns to his house and works until about one o’clock over his correspondence. This is enormous, and would more than occupy his entire time, did he read and reply to all his letters personally. As he finds it impossible to do this, but is nevertheless determined that they shall all receive careful and impartial attention, he has recourse to the assistance of his daughter Ruha, upon whose [Page 101]intelligence and conscientious devotion to the task he can rely. During the day she reads and makes digests of letters received, which she submits to him at night.

In his attention to these various duties he is absolutely unremitting. The month which I passed in Akka was the Mohammedan fast of Ramedan, which, as all other Mohammedan observances, was scrupulously kept by Abbas Effendi and his followers, for the sake of peace and to avoid the imputation of social innovation. This fast requires abstinence from food between sunrise and sunset. The effect of this privation upon him, in addition to that of his assiduous activity, was very marked, and towards the end of the fast he frequently appeared to be in a state of great exhaustion.

I have adverted to his frugal and abstemious habits in matters relating to his personal comfort. Several incidents further illustrating this trait were told to me. On one occasion he was going to Haifa, and asked for a seat in the stage. “Your Excellency,” said the driver, “surely wishes a private carriage.” “No,” replied Abbas Effendi. The driver thought this parsimony in a man of his position. At Haifa, while he was still in the [Page 102]stage, a fisherwoman came to him in great distress, saying that all day she had caught nothing, and must go home to a hungry family. He gave her five francs, and turning to the stage-driver said: "You now see the reason why I would not take a private carriage. Why should I ride in luxury when so many are starving?"

The Master’s habit of wearing cheap clothes troubles his family. I was told of a conspiracy a few months before to impose a cloak of better quality upon him without his knowledge. His wife procured the necessary money from her brother, who is in the habit of acting as banker for the family, and furnished a tailor with the required cloth, who proceeded to make the garment. They knew very well that the Master would not wear expensive clothes if he knew it, but, counting upon his inattention to such matters, hoped that he would not notice the quality.

But unfortunately the tailor bungled the cloak. It did not fit, had to be returned several times; and in the goings to and fro which ensued, its cost came to Abbas Effendi’s knowledge. Thereupon he sent for his brother-in-law and said to him: "You must sell that cloak and charge me with whatever loss there [Page 103]may be upon it : such an amount of money will buy four cloaks, one of which is good enough for me ; the others can be given away.”

His daughter Ruha relates that when her sister was recently married she had no trousseau, and for the ceremony merely donned a clean dress. People asked her father why he had not given his daughter bridal garments. He replied, “ My daughter is warmly clad and has all that she needs for her comfort. The poor have not. What my daughter does not need I will give to the poor rather than to her.”

Early during my stay in Akka the following curious incident was related to me. The Master happened to have a fine cloak of Persian wool which had been given to him, when a poor man applied to him for a garment. He sent for this cloak and gave it to the applicant. The man took it and demurred, saying that it was only of cotton. “ No,” said Abbas Effendi, “ It is of wool ; ” and to prove it he lighted a match and burnt a little of the nap. The man still grumbled that it was not good. Abbas Effendi reproved him for criticising a gift and appeared not a little vexed at his ungrateful conduct. But he [Page 104]terminated the interview in this extraordinary fashion — by directing an attendant to give the man a mejidi (a coin worth about four francs). “If any one vexes him,” continued my interlocutor, “he always gives him a present.”

I was at a loss to understand this singular procedure at the time ; but an incident which occurred later during my stay threw light upon it. One day the Master was distributing coats to poor men, in accordance with his custom, to which I have referred above (p. 5). In this distribution he carefully selected the donees, judging from his personal knowledge in each case whether the charity was merited, and making a record of those to whom coats were given. On this occasion there was one man who was very insistent in his demand for a coat, but whose application Abbas Effendi for some reason did not approve. The man continued to persist, and the Master to refuse, finally repulsing the beggar with a good deal of acerbity. After some time, however, what did he do but bring this same man into the large court where the coats were hung upon a line, and give him the choice of the lot ! The man tried on three, and, finding one which suited him, took it away. [Page 105]Madam Canavarro saw the incident and afterwards asked Abbas Effendi to explain it. He smiled and said: “Did you notice that?” — and then, calling her attention to the backs of his hands, which had been somewhat scratched and torn in managing the crowd, he continued: “My body is still under the law. You see how these people may injure it. It is necessary that I should control them — that I should put them down. But, having put them down, I must show them that I did not do it in unkindness. And so, too, if I find it necessary to display some temper, I must take care that my actions show my motive, in order that my example may not be misunderstood.”

The Master has, as may be inferred from what I have already said, a very tender, sensitive, and sympathetic nature. To his appreciation of the suffering and discontent which it causes among women I chiefly attribute his dislike to the institution of polygamy, remarkable in one who has been all his life surrounded by those who practise it. This is shown not only by his persistent refusal to adopt it for himself, notwithstanding the very powerful influences (see above, p. 92) which have urged him to do so, but by the reticence [Page 106]which he habitually maintains when the subject is introduced. It is evidently a matter upon which, because of his surroundings, he does not wish to express himself with freedom.

Many things suggestive of his sympathy and tender-heartedness were told to me. I have referred to his habit of eating very simply and but once a day. This is not his invariable custom, since, when he has guests, he entertains them generously, in fact exquisitely, and eats with them. His family say, however, that he always prefers a simple repast ; and if it happens that he has just come from visiting the poor, elaborately prepared food is especially distasteful to him.

Busy as he is, it would much relieve him to delegate distributing alms to some of his followers. This, in fact, he sometimes does, but rarely, for this reason. On these occasions the poor frequently resort to artifices, as by going away after receiving money and returning to secure double or triple alms. These artifices are likely to be met, by any one except himself, with impatience or harshness, and this the Master does not like. To the poor and ignorant above all, he says, we should always be kind.

Once he was entertaining a wealthy lady [Page 107]who had her maid with her. The latter stood behind her mistress’ chair at dinner. Abbas Effendi was uneasy. At length he called for a chair, placed it beside him, and asked the maid to be seated. Then he addressed his conversation to her, telling her, among other things, to be content ; that those who served were often more loved by God than those whom they served.

I was told of the case of a consumptive who had been almost deserted by his friends, as frequently happens in Akka, Syrians having a superstitious fear of the disease. The mother and sisters of this young man hardly entered his room. His food was brought in by a servant, and he was left to reach it and otherwise to care for himself as best he could.

The house in which he lived was near that occupied by the Master, and the ladies of the latter’s family saw this sad sight from their windows. No woman, of course, could offer assistance under the circumstances ; but the Master heard of it from them, and thereafter went daily to the sick man, took him delicacies, read and discoursed to him, and was alone with him when he died.

In his dealings with men and in the relief of suffering, differences of religious opinion have [Page 108]no weight with the Master. Men of all faiths are absolutely the same to him. He commonly associates a Moslem and a Christian with him in regulating his charities. I usually noticed one or both of these faiths represented among those who were assisting him in the distribution of alms or clothing. The ideal of human life which he ‎ strives,‎ first of all, to promote, is fraternal co-operation among all men.

During the fast of ‎ Ramadan‎ considerable discomfort is caused among the poorer Mohammedans by the fact that, when exhausted by the long fast of the day (from sunrise to sunset), they have not the means to provide a sufficiently substantial meal to restore their strength. It was the Master’s habit, while I was in Akka, to provide every second day a supper at sunset for many such persons.

A year or two ago a wealthy American lady, a friend of Abbas Effendi, spent some months in Haifa. On going away she asked permission to make him the donation of a sum of money, for his own use or for that of the Cause. He replied that he could not himself accept a gift from her; but that if she wished to do something for him, she should educate the two little girls of a Christian schoolmaster in Haifa, who had recently lost [Page 109]his wife, was very poor, and in much trouble. She accordingly sent these children to a school in Beyrout.

There are in Akka about ninety Beha’is of whom I think I have met all the men. The restrictions imposed by Mohammedan social customs, which, as I have said, the Beha’is here observe for the sake of peace and harmony, prevented me from meeting the women. These Beha’is are all Persians, living in Akka in voluntary exile in order to be near their “Master.” The fact that, also for the sake of peace, they are not permitted by him to make propaganda within the dominions of the Sultan explains, no doubt, the absence of other nationalities among them. The attractions of their native country do not weigh as a straw against the privilege of living near Abbas Effendi; and nothing except his wish, which is absolute law to his followers, could induce them to leave him. This touching and eloquent tribute to the character of Abbas Effendi is only an expression of the fundamental characteristic of all Beha’is whom I have known—that is, the absolute devotion of themselves, their possessions, and their lives to the cause of their faith and its representative. I am told that it is the dearest [Page 110]wish of the millions of Beha’is in Persia to make the pilgrimage to Akka, and that, if such a thing were possible, they would migrate there en masse for permanent residence. But at present even pilgrimage is, except in rare instances, forbidden by Abbas Effendi. In the earlier years of Beha Ullah’s imprisonment there, when access to him, or even entrance into the city, was impossible for Beha’is from Persia, the pilgrimage was frequently made for the mere purpose of seeing him at the window of his room in the prison, from a point without the walls of Akka.

I have never known a community which seemed to enjoy such a general distribution of the sterling qualities and virtues of character. They are industrious and self-controlled; in appearance they are cleanly and thrifty. Their faces are all sincere, honest, kindly, intelligent, and generally strong. Their school is attended by about twenty bright-looking boys (girls are excluded by Mohammedan custom), who are, among other things, industriously studying the English language, and have made considerable progress in acquiring it.

In their intercourse with each other, and, so far as I have had the opportunity to observe, with others, the Beha’is continually overflow [Page 111]with kindliness and good-will. They seem like a single family whose members bear the liveliest affection for one another. I can even easily credit the statement made to me that when the persecutions were at their height in Persia, it happened more than once that a Beha’i, having been arrested by mistake in place of another who had been denounced, permitted the error to go undiscovered, and suffered execution rather than endanger his fellow-believer.

To a Beha’i there is no recommendation of character and trustworthiness equal to that of being a Beha’i. This confidence in the character of Beha’is extends also, as I have learned from conversation with other citizens of Akka, to those who are not of their faith. I am told that they are frequently chosen as fiduciaries and trustees by Moslems and Christians.

One observes among them a feeling of fellowship and complete equality as men, regardless of the distinctions of wealth and poverty or high and low degree. I saw this feeling expressed many times ; as when, during the exposition of the doctrines by some teacher in my room, the boy who served my meals would enter without remark and respectfully take a seat before him. [Page 112]There is also among them an atmosphere of intense religious conviction and spiritual life,—yet quite without apparent emotion or excitement,—which forcibly impresses one who is accustomed to the torpidity prevailing in Western lands in regard to those things. Professor Browne remarks (A Traveller’s Narrative, introduction, p. xxxix.):

“The spirit which pervades the Babis (Beha’is) is such that it can hardly fail to affect most powerfully all subjected to its influence. . . . Let those who have not seen disbelieve me if they will : but should that spirit once reveal itself to them, they will experience an emotion they are not likely to forget.

Nothing could be more true. In the presence of a number of them, aglow, as they all are, with the fire of love, conviction, and determination, one feels—however he may believe, he feels—that scepticism about the reality of spiritual existence is a trifle absurd, and that things unseen must be as certain as things seen.

If we analyse this peculiar spirit of the Beha’is; if we seek to penetrate that which marks them off from other men, the conclusion to which we are brought is that its essence is expressed in the one word Love. These men are Lovers; lovers of God, of [Page 113]their Master and Teacher, of each other, and of all mankind. This is the name which they are fondest of applying to themselves, and it is that which most intimately indicates their distinctive characteristics. Their love goes out in all these directions with the fervour of the lover’s passion, but a passion free from all gross elements. It is this which has sustained them in their sufferings and martyrdoms, and now inspires their eager devotion to their cause. To some this fact will have an immense possible significance; for they will remember that seers have said that there is a Divine Love of which the ordinary human passion is but the darkened and corrupted shadow, and which, searching, strenuous, and pure, it is sometimes given to men to feel.