“The song of the spheres in their revolutions Is what men sing with lute and voice. As we all are members of Adam, We have heard these melodies in Paradise. Though earth and water have cast their veil upon us, We retain faint reminiscences of these heavenly songs; But while we are thus shrouded by gross earthly veils, How can the tones of the dancing spheres reach us?”[7] [7] E. H. Whinfield, abridged translation of the _Masnavī_, p. 182. The formal practice of _samāʿ_ quickly spread amongst the Sūfīs and produced an acute cleavage of opinion, some holding it to be lawful and praiseworthy, whilst others condemned it as an abominable innovation and incitement to vice. Hujwīrī adopts the middle view expressed in a saying of Dhu ’l-Nūn the Egyptian: “Music is a divine influence which stirs the heart to seek God: those who listen to it spiritually attain unto God, and those who listen to it sensually fall into unbelief.” He declares, in effect, that audition is neither good nor bad, and must be judged by its results. “When an anchorite goes into a tavern, the tavern becomes his cell, but when a wine-bibber goes into a cell, that cell becomes his tavern.” One whose heart is absorbed in the thought of God cannot be corrupted by hearing musical instruments. So with dancing. “When the heart throbs and rapture grows intense, and the agitation of ecstasy is manifested and conventional forms are gone, this is not dancing nor bodily indulgence, but a dissolution of the soul.” Hujwīrī, however, lays down several precautionary rules for those who engage in audition, and he confesses that the public concerts given by dervishes are extremely demoralising. Novices, he thinks, should not be permitted to attend them. In modern times these orgiastic scenes have frequently been described by eye-witnesses. I will now translate from Jāmī’s _Lives of the Saints_ the account of a similar performance which took place about seven hundred years ago.