he way of force.
I made not creation, Self to aggrandize,
But that creatures might with Me communion prize.
What though childish tongues trip? 'Tis the heart I see,
If it really loves Me in sincerity.
Blood-stains of the martyrs no ablution need,
Some mistakes are better than a cautious creed,
Once _within_ the Kaaba,[57] wheresoe'er men turn,
Is it much to Him Who spirits doth discern?
Love's religion comprehends each creed and sect,
Love flies straight to God, and outsoars intellect.
If the gem be real, what matters the device?
Love in seas of sorrow finds the pearl of price.'

A similar lesson is taught by the apologue of the "Elephant in the
Dark":--

During the reign of an Eastern sovereign, he remarked that the
learned men of his time differed widely in their estimate of the
Deity, each ascribing to Him different characteristics. So he had
an elephant brought in secret to his capital and placed in a dark
chamber; then, inviting those learned men, he told them that he
was in possession of an animal which none of them had ever seen.
He requested them to accompany him to the chamber, and, on
entering it, said that the animal was before them, and asked if
they could see it. Being answered in the negative, he begged them
to approach and feel it, which they did, each touching it in a
different part. After returning to the light, he asked them what
they thought the animal was really like. One declared that it was
a huge column, another that it was a rough hide, a third that it
was of ivory, a fourth that it had huge flaps of some coarse
substance; but not one could correctly state what the animal was.
They returned to the chamber, and when the light was let in,
those learned men beheld for the first time the object of their
curiosity, and learned that, whilst each was correct in what he
had said, all differed widely from the truth.

Though a pantheist, Jalaluddin lays great stress on the fact of man's
sinfulness and frailty and on the personality of the Devil, as in the
following lines:--

Many a net the Devil spreads, weaving snare on snare,
We, like foolish birds, are caught captive unaware;
From one net no sooner free, straightway in another
We are tangled, fresh defeats aspirations smother;
Till upon the ground we lie, helpless as a stone,
We, who might have gained the sky, we, who might have flown.