CHAPTER 2 HE WHOM THEY SOUGHT
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The gentle spirit of the Bāb is surely high up in the cycles of eternity. Who can fail, as Prof. Browne says, to be attracted by him?
—T. K. Cheyne, D.Litt., D.D.
Siyyid (or Mírzá) `Alí-Muḥammad, known to history as the Báb, was the son of Siyyid (or Mír) Muḥammad-Riḍá, a mercer of Shíráz.[1]He was born on October 20th 1819 (Muḥarram 1st, 1235 A.H.). Through both His father and His mother He was descended from Imám Ḥusayn,[AF] the third Imám. Thus He stood in direct line of descent from the Prophet Muḥammad. According to Mírzá Abu'l-Faḍl-i-Gulpáygání, Siyyid Muḥammad-Riḍá, the Báb's father, died when his only child was an infant, unweaned. Then the care of the child devolved upon a maternal uncle, Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí. He was the only relative of the Báb to espouse His Cause openly during His lifetime and, as will be seen, to accept martyrdom for His sake. But according to a manuscript history of the Bábí-Bahá'í Faith in Shíráz by Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh-i-Afnán,[AG] Siyyid Muḥammad-Riḍá passed away when his son was nine years old, and `Abdu'l-Bahá appears to confirm this account.[AH]
Two of Siyyid Muḥammad-Riḍa's paternal cousins rose to eminence in the ranks of the Shí`ah divines, and both bore allegiance, in strict secrecy, to their kinsman when His claim to be 'the Qá'im of the House of Muḥammad' became publicly known. Of the two, the more famed and distinguished was Ḥájí Mírzá Muḥammad-Ḥasan (1815-95), known as Mírzáy-i-Shírází, who, like all the leading Shí`ah divines, resided in `Iráq. He was the most influential ecclesiastic of his time, powerful enough to wreck the Tobacco Régie, the monopoly concession which Náṣiri'd-Dín Sháh (reigned 1848-96) gave to Major Gerald F. Talbot, a British citizen, in the summer of 1889.[2] Mírzáy-i-Shírází put the use of tobacco under an interdict and the people of Írán, even the women in the Sháh's harem, ceased to use it. Náṣiri'd-Dín Sháh was forced early in 1892 to cancel the concession and pay the Tobacco Corporation an indemnity of £500,000. The father of Mírzáy-i-Shírází, named Mírzá Maḥmúd, was a noted calligraphist, and was uncle to the father of the Báb.
The other celebrated ecclesiastic, cousin to Siyyid Muḥammad-Riḍá, was Ḥájí Siyyid Javád, the Imám-Jum`ih[AI] of Kirmán. It was Quddús who gave this dignitary the news of the advent of the Báb. Ḥájí Siyyid Javád extended his protection to Quddús, despite the clamour of his adversaries.
The mother of the Báb was Fáṭimih-Bagum. She was the daughter of Mírzá Muḥammad-Ḥusayn, a merchant of Shíráz, and had three brothers. Of these, Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí became the guardian of the Báb, while Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad and Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥasan-`Alí, although not enlisted in the ranks of the followers of their illustrious Nephew, feature in His story.
Every account that we have of Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad's childhood indicates that He was not an ordinary child. When He was sent to school, He so surprised the schoolmaster, Shaykh `Ábid, with His wisdom and intelligence that the bewildered man took the child back to His uncle, and said that he had nothing to teach this gifted pupil: 'He, verily, stands in no need of teachers such as I.' The uncle had already noticed the remarkable qualities of his ward, and it is recorded that on this occasion he was very stern with Him: 'Have You forgotten my instructions? Have I not already admonished You to follow the example of Your fellow-pupils, to observe silence, and to listen attentively to every word spoken by Your teacher?' It was totally alien to the nature of that gentle child to disregard the wishes of His guardian. He returned to school and conducted Himself on the pattern of other children. Nothing, however, could restrain the superior mind and intelligence possessed by that exceptional boy. As time went on, the schoolmaster became convinced that he could not help his student; in the role of instructor he felt as the instructed.
It should also be said that schools such as that attended by Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad, which were common in those days, were one-man affairs and matters taught were elementary, although pupils were trained to read the Qur'án, even if they could not possibly understand the meaning of the sacred text which is of course in Arabic. The Báb did not go beyond this school nor the tuition of Shaykh `Ábid. Thus His schooling was meagre.
The Báb was only five years old when He was sent to receive tuition from Shaykh `Ábid. Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh's narrative contains an account of His first day at school, related by Áqá Muḥammad-Ibráhím-i-Ismá`íl Bag, a well-known merchant of Shíráz, who was a fellow-scholar at the age of twelve. The Báb had taken a seat, with great courtesy, in between this boy and another pupil who was also much older than Himself. His head was bowed over the primer put in front of Him, the first lines of which He had been taught to repeat. But He would not utter a word. When asked why He did not read aloud as other boys were doing He made no reply. Just then two boys, sitting near them, were heard to recite a couplet from Ḥáfiẓ, which runs thus:
From the pinnacles of Heaven they call out unto thee; I know not what hath thee here entrapped.[3]
'That is your answer,' said the Báb, turning to Áqá Muḥammad-Ibráhím.
Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh also tells us that, apart from teaching boys, Shaykh `Ábid had a regular class for theological students. On one occasion some of these students posed a question which after a long period of discussion remained unresolved. Shaykh `Ábid told them that he would consult some authoritative works that same night and on the morrow present them with the solution. Just then the Báb, who had been listening, spoke and with sound reasoning propounded the answer which they sought. They were wonder-struck, for they had no recollection of discussing that particular subject within earshot of the Báb, who might then have looked up references in books and memorized them to repeat parrot-wise. Shaykh `Ábid asked Him where He had gained that knowledge. The boy replied smilingly with a couplet from Ḥáfiẓ:
Should the grace of the Holy Spirit once again deign to assist, Others will also do what Christ could perform.[3]
Not only did the mental faculties of the Báb astound the schoolmaster; the nobility of His character impressed him even more. Indeed all those who were close or near to His person could not but yield to the charm of His being. Years later, when the Báb had raised the call of a new theophany, the schoolmaster casting his mind over the past told Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í, a learned scion of a celebrated priestly family (the Baḥru'l-`Ulúm[AJ]), that Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad was always dignified and serene, that He was very handsome and cared little for the pastimes of other boys. Some mornings, the schoolmaster recalled, He was late coming to school and when asked the reason He remained silent. On occasions Shaykh `Ábid sent other pupils to call at His home and ask Him to come to school. They would return to say that they had found Him at His devotions. One day, when He had come late to school and was questioned by Shaykh `Ábid, the Báb said quietly that He had been in the house of His 'Grandfather'. Thus do the Siyyids refer to their ancestor the Prophet Muḥammad. To the schoolmaster's remonstrances that He was only a child of ten from whom such rigorous attention to devotions was not demanded, He replied quietly again, 'I wish to be like My Grandfather'. At that time, Shaykh `Ábid said, he had taken the words of Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad as childish naïveté.[4]
A certain book-binder of Shíráz named Siyyid Muḥammad, whose house neighboured that of the Báb's, but who in later years removed to Saráy-i-Amír[AK] in Ṭihrán to ply his trade, had heard Shaykh `Ábid relate that it was customary, when the season was clement, for the boys to invite their teacher and their fellow-pupils on Fridays (the day of rest) to an outing in one of the numerous gardens which bordered the city of Shíráz. At times they would find that the Báb had betaken Himself to a shaded, secluded spot in a corner of the orchard to pray and meditate.
Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í had himself encountered the Báb in the years of His childhood. He was normally a resident of Karbilá and had attended regularly the discourses of Siyyid Káẓim-i-Rashtí, eventually becoming one of his ardent disciples. But he was also a man of travel who embarked now and then on long journeys. Twice he went on pilgrimage to Mecca and spent some time there teaching and discoursing. He visited India and stayed in Bombay for a while. One of his journeys took him to Shíráz, at a time when the Báb was about nine years old. Being well acquainted with Ḥájí Siyyid Muḥammad (one of the Báb's maternal uncles), Ḥájí Siyyid Javád visited him occasionally. Decades later he recalled that on one of these visits he could hear the intonations of a melodious, enraptured voice, coming from the direction of the alcove reserved for devotions. Before long a boy stepped out of the recess and Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad introduced Him as his nephew who was orphaned. Another visit coincided with the Báb's return from school. Ḥájí Siyyid Javád noticed that He held a batch of papers and asked what they were. Very courteously the boy replied that they were His calligraphic exercises. When Ḥájí Siyyid Javád inspected them he marvelled at their excellence.
On yet another and later occasion, when the Báb was for a time engaged in trading in the port of Búshihr, Ḥájí Siyyid Javád spent six months in that town, living in the same inn as the Báb. Thus they often met. Still later, in Karbilá, Ḥájí Siyyid Javád again met the Báb, who by then was in His early twenties.
When Mullá `Alíy-i-Basṭámí reached `Iráq with the tidings of the advent of the Báb, the news spread rapidly among the divines and the students of theology. Ḥájí Siyyid Javád was one of those particularly attracted, and he often urged Mullá `Alí to divulge the name of Him who had put forth such a tremendous claim. But the Báb had emphatically forbidden Mullá `Alí to mention His name or give any clue to His identity. To all insistent requests Mullá `Alí merely said that before long His identity would be revealed to them. No one, according to the testimony of Ḥájí Siyyid Javád, suspected that the Báb could be the young merchant of Shíráz who had only recently lived among them. Most of the Shaykhís believed that the Báb must be one of the close disciples of Siyyid Káẓim.
Then it occurred to Ḥájí Siyyid Javád to invite Mullá `Alí to his own home and question him more closely. Seated on the roof of the house, in the neighbourhood of the Shrine of Imám Ḥusayn, the two of them conversed at length about the 'Great Event', but no matter how hard he tried, Ḥájí Siyyid Javád could not induce his guest to disclose the secret which he had been bidden to withhold. So frustrated did he feel that, on his own admission, Ḥájí Siyyid Javád gripped the arms of Mullá `Alí, pushed him hard against the wall and exclaimed: 'What am I to do with you, Mullá `Alí! Kill you? Won't you say who that wondrous Being is? Won't you relieve us of this misery?' Gasping for breath, Mullá `Alí replied: 'Siyyid Javád! It is forbidden. You yourself are a man of learning. You should know better. It is forbidden.' And then quite unexpectedly and without knowing why, Mullá `Alí added that the Báb had specially mentioned that all His letters extant in `Iráq, whoever the recipient might have been, ought to be sent to Shíráz. No sooner had Mullá `Alí spoken than Ḥájí Siyyid Javád had, in a flash, a mental picture of Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad, whom he had known and admired since His childhood. He ran down the stairs to the room where he kept his papers, gathered up the letters he had received from Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad and hurried back to the roof. The moment Mullá `Alí caught sight of the seal on those letters he burst into tears, and so did Ḥájí Siyyid Javád. They wept for joy, and between his sobs Mullá `Alí kept repeating: `Áqá Siyyid Javád! Áqá Siyyid Javád! I did not mention any name to you. It is forbidden to mention His blessed name. Don't mention His name to anyone.'[5]
Thus did Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í find his new Faith, to which he remained steadfastly loyal throughout his long life. We shall hear later a good deal more of this remarkable man.
Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad had some six to seven years of schooling with Shaykh `Ábid. In all probability He left the school at the Qahviy-i-Awlíyá' before He was thirteen. According to Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh's narrative, He joined Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí, His uncle-guardian, in business when He was fifteen years old,[AL] and shortly afterwards moved to Búshihr. Pages of commercial accounts which He kept put it beyond doubt that the Báb left Shíráz for Búshihr when He was nearly sixteen. There can be little doubt that at an early age the Báb took over the complete management of the trading-house in Búshihr. His scrupulous attention to detail and His undeviating fairness in transactions became widely known in the region. A man who had consigned to Him some goods to sell was astonished to find, when he received his money, that it was more than could be obtained at current prices. He wanted to return some of it. The Báb told him that it was only fair and just that he should be given that particular sum, because his goods would have fetched exactly that amount had they been offered for sale when the market was at its best.
A.-L.-M. Nicolas maintains that the Báb was also engaged in writing and composing, during this period of His sojourn in Búshihr. He mentions a treatise, the Risáliy-i-Fiqhíyyih, as having come from the pen of the Báb during those years.[6] His statement is corroborated by Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh's narrative:
One day in Egypt during the time when Mírzá Abu'l-Faḍl was occupied with writing his book, the Fará'id, we came to talk about the early years of the Báb, prior to His declaration, and the period when He was engaged in trading. Mírzá Abu'l-Faḍl related the following to me: 'I myself heard the late Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í say that when the Báb was pursuing the career of a merchant in Búshihr, he ... because of his friendship with the uncles of the Báb used to stay with them whenever he visited either Shíráz or Búshihr. One day Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad came to him with a request. "Give some good counsel to my nephew ... tell Him not to write certain things which can only arouse the jealousy of some people: these people cannot bear to see a young merchant of little schooling show such erudition, they feel envious." Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad had been very insistent that Ḥájí Siyyid Javád should counsel the Báb to desist from writing. Ḥájí Siyyid Javád had however replied with these lines of verse: "The fair of face cannot put up with the veil; Shut him in, and out of the window will he show his visage," and had added: "We are earth-bound and He is celestial. Our counsel is of no use to Him."'
Mullá Muḥammad-i-Zarandí, Nabíl-i-A`ẓam, lays particular stress on the Báb's strict regard for His devotions on Fridays. Even the torrid conditions of Búshihr, he states, did not deter the Báb. Writers of such histories as the Násikhu't-Taváríkh,[7] hostile to the Báb, have alleged that long exposure to the severe heat of the sun in that seaport, while engaged in prayers, affected His mind. They have gone on to assert that it was this derangement of mind which led Him to make extravagant claims. But Ḥájí Mírzá Jání of Káshán refutes any suggestion that the Báb deliberately practised austerities, or that He found Himself a 'murshid' (spiritual guide) to direct Him along such lines.
Unfortunately records of the years that the Báb spent in Búshihr are scant. We cannot be certain as to the exact dates when He took over the complete management of the trading-house and when He retired. Ḥájí Mu`ínu's-Salṭanih of Tabríz states in his chronicle that the Báb assumed direct responsibility at the age of twenty. If that statement be correct, the period during which He acted on His own was quite brief. According to Mírzá Abu'l-Faḍl of Gulpáygán, He journeyed to the holy cities of `Iráq in the spring of 1841, stayed in `Iráq for nearly seven months and returned to His 'native province of Fárs' in the autumn of that year. Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh states that the Báb's sojourn in Búshihr lasted six years. According to him, when the Báb decided to go on pilgrimage to the holy cities of `Iráq, He wrote to His uncles in Shíráz asking them to come and take over the business from Him. His uncles, however, procrastinated, whereupon the Báb settled all the outstanding matters in Búshihr Himself, brought His books up to date, locked and sealed the door of the office and left the keys with the gatekeeper of the caravanserai, to be handed over to any one of His uncles. He informed His uncles of what He had done and explained that since they had not heeded His repeated pleas He had no other alternative, determined as He was to go on pilgrimage to the holy cities.[AM] Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad was greatly perturbed lest their credit be damaged and their clients suffer serious loss. But Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí assured him that their nephew would never do anything to compromise them and that all accounts would be found in perfect order. Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad hurried to Búshihr where a close inspection of the books satisfied him that nothing had been left to chance.
While in Karbilá the Báb visited Siyyid Káẓim-i-Rashtí and attended his discourses. But these occasional visits did not and could not make Him a pupil or disciple of Siyyid Káẓim. His adversaries have alleged that He sat at the feet of Siyyid Káẓim for months on end to learn from him. But accounts that we have from close associates of Siyyid Káẓim all indicate that the Shaykhí leader welcomed and received Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad, on every occasion, with great reverence. Here is a long account by Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí:
My days were spent in the service of Siyyid Káẓim, to whom I was greatly attached. One day, at the hour of dawn, I was suddenly awakened by Mullá Naw-rúz, one of his intimate attendants, who, in great excitement, bade me arise and follow him. We went to the house of Siyyid Káẓim, where we found him fully dressed, wearing his `abá, and ready to leave his home. He asked me to accompany him. 'A highly esteemed and distinguished Person,' he said, 'has arrived. I feel it incumbent upon us both to visit Him.' The morning light had just broken when I found myself walking with him through the streets of Karbilá. We soon reached a house, at the door of which stood a Youth, as if expectant to receive us. He wore a green turban, and His countenance revealed an expression of humility and kindliness which I can never describe. He quietly approached us, extended His arms towards Siyyid Káẓim, and lovingly embraced him. His affability and loving-kindness singularly contrasted with the sense of profound reverence that characterised the attitude of Siyyid Káẓim towards Him. Speechless and with bowed head, he received the many expressions of affection and esteem with which that Youth greeted him. We were soon led by Him to the upper floor of that house, and entered a chamber bedecked with flowers and redolent of the loveliest perfume. He bade us be seated. We knew not, however, what seats we actually occupied, so overpowering was the sense of delight which seized us. We observed a silver cup which had been placed in the centre of the room, which our youthful Host, soon after we were seated, filled to overflowing, and handed to Siyyid Káẓim, saying: 'A drink of a pure beverage shall their Lord give them.'[AN] Siyyid Káẓim held the cup with both hands and quaffed it. A feeling of reverent joy filled his being, a feeling which he could not suppress. I too was presented with a cupful of that beverage, though no words were addressed to me. All that was spoken at that memorable gathering was the above-mentioned verse of the Qur'án. Soon after, the Host arose from His seat and, accompanying us to the threshold of the house, bade us farewell. I was mute with wonder, and knew not how to express the cordiality of His welcome, the dignity of His bearing, the charm of that face, and the delicious fragrance of that beverage. How great was my amazement when I saw my teacher quaff without the least hesitation that holy draught from a silver cup, the use of which, according to the precepts of Islám, is forbidden to the faithful. I could not explain the motive which could have induced the Siyyid to manifest such profound reverence in the presence of that Youth—a reverence which even the sight of the shrine of the Siyyidu'sh-Shuhadá'[AO] had failed to excite. Three days later, I saw that same Youth arrive and take His seat in the midst of the company of the assembled disciples of Siyyid Káẓim. He sat close to the threshold, and with the same modesty and dignity of bearing listened to the discourse of the Siyyid. As soon as his eyes fell upon that Youth, the Siyyid discontinued his address and held his peace. Whereupon one of his disciples begged him to resume the argument which he had left unfinished. 'What more shall I say?' replied Siyyid Káẓim, as he turned his face toward the Báb. 'Lo, the Truth is more manifest than the ray of light that has fallen upon that lap!' I immediately observed that the ray to which the Siyyid referred had fallen upon the lap of that same Youth whom we had recently visited. 'Why is it,' that questioner enquired, 'that you neither reveal His name nor identify His person?' To this the Siyyid replied by pointing with his finger to his own throat, implying that were he to divulge His name, they both would be put to death instantly. This added still further to my perplexity. I had already heard my teacher observe that so great is the perversity of this generation, that were he to point with his finger to the promised One and say: 'He indeed is the Beloved, the Desire of your hearts and mine,' they would still fail to recognise and acknowledge Him. I saw the Siyyid actually point out with his finger the ray of light that had fallen on that lap, and yet none among those who were present seemed to apprehend its meaning. I, for my part, was convinced that the Siyyid himself could never be the promised One, but that a mystery inscrutable to us all, lay concealed in that strange and attractive Youth. Several times I ventured to approach Siyyid Káẓim and seek from him an elucidation of this mystery. Every time I approached him, I was overcome by a sense of awe which his personality so powerfully inspired.[8]
Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí has gone on to relate:
I often felt the urge to seek alone the presence of that Háshimite[AP] Youth and to endeavour to fathom His mystery. I watched Him several times as He stood in an attitude of prayer at the doorway of the shrine of the Imám Ḥusayn. So wrapt was He in His devotions that He seemed utterly oblivious of those around Him. Tears rained from His eyes, and from His lips fell words of glorification and praise of such power and beauty as even the noblest passages of our sacred Scriptures could not hope to surpass. The words 'O God, my God, my Beloved, my heart's Desire,' were uttered with a frequency and ardour that those of the visiting pilgrims who were near enough to hear Him instinctively interrupted the course of their devotions, and marvelled at the evidences of piety and veneration which that youthful countenance evinced. Like Him they were moved to tears, and from Him they learned the lesson of true adoration. Having completed His prayers, that Youth, without crossing the threshold of the shrine and without attempting to address any words to those around Him, would quietly return to His home. I felt the impulse to address Him, but every time I ventured an approach, a force that I could neither explain nor resist, detained me. My inquiries about Him elicited the information that He was a resident of Shíráz, that He was a merchant by profession, and did not belong to any of the ecclesiastical orders. I was, moreover, informed that He, and also His uncles and relatives, were among the lovers and admirers of Shaykh Aḥmad and Siyyid Káẓim. I learned that He had departed for Najaf on His way to Shiraz. That Youth had set my heart aflame. The memory of that vision haunted me. My soul was wedded to His till the day when the call of a Youth from Shíráz, proclaiming Himself to be the Báb, reached my ears. The thought instantly flashed through my mind that such a person could be none other than that selfsame Youth whom I had seen in Karbilá, the Youth of my heart's desire.[9]
According to Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh's narrative, as the sojourn of the Báb in the holy cities lengthened into months, His mother, anxious to have her only son back in Shíráz, asked her brother, Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí, to go to `Iráq and persuade Him to return. He could not deny his sister's request, but when he reached `Iráq he found that his nephew, who had once been his ward, was unwilling to leave the holy cities. Thereupon he appealed to Ḥájí Siyyid Javád-i-Karbilá'í for help, who was at first reluctant to lend his support, not wishing to lose the company of the young Shírází Siyyid whom he had over the course of years so tremendously admired. However, when he learned that His mother was greatly concerned, he consented to intervene. At last the Báb complied with their request and agreed to return. After a few months in Shíráz He declared His intention of going once again to `Iráq. His mother, alarmed and agitated by this decision, once more sought the aid of her brother. Their efforts resulted in the marriage of the Báb to Khadíjih-Bagum, daughter of Ḥájí Mírzá `Alí,[10] the paternal uncle of His mother. The marriage took place in August 1842. Khadíjih-Bagum had two brothers: Ḥájí Mírzá Abu'l-Qásim and Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Ḥasan, and both of them, though not counted among His followers in His lifetime, have a place in the story of the Báb. The descendants of these two brothers-in-law of the Báb, and the descendants of His maternal uncles, are known as the Afnán (the Twigs).
A son was born to Siyyid `Alí-Muḥammad and Khadíjih-Bagum in the year 1843, whom they named Aḥmad, but he did not live long. Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥabíbu'lláh states that the child was still-born. The Báb notes the birth of Aḥmad in the Qayyúmu'l-Asmá', His commentary on the Súrih of Yúsuf (Joseph). Speaking of His wedding with His well-beloved, who was herself descended from the Well-Beloved (Muḥammad is known as Ḥabíbu'lláh—the Well-Beloved of God), and relating how He had called upon the angels of Heaven and the cohorts of Paradise to witness that wedding, the Báb then addresses His wife:
O well-beloved! Value highly the grace of Dhikr [the Bab],[11] the Greatest, for it comes from God, the Loved One. Thou shalt not be a woman, like other women, if thou obeyest God in the Cause of Truth ... and take pride in being the consort of the Well-Beloved, who is loved by God the Greatest. Sufficient unto thee is this glory which cometh unto thee from God, the All-Wise, the All-Praised. Be patient in all that God hath ordained concerning the Báb and His Family. Verily, thy son, Aḥmad, is with Fáṭimih,[AQ] the Sublime, in the sanctified Paradise. [12]
And there is this further reference to Ahmad in the Qayyúmu'l-Asmá':
All praise be to God Who bestowed upon the Solace of the Eyes,[AR] in His youth, Aḥmad. We did verily raise him up unto God.... O Solace of the Eyes! Be patient in what thy God hath ordained for thee. Verily He doeth whatsoever He willeth. He is the All-Wise in the exercise of His justice. He is thy Lord, the Ancient of Days, and praised be He in whatever He ordereth.[12]