Iqbal is an Indian Moslem. During his stay in the West he studied modern philosophy, in which subject he holds degrees from the Universities of Cambridge and Munich. His dissertation on the development of metaphysics in Persia--an illuminating sketch--appeared as a book in 1908. Since then he has developed a philosophy of his own, on which I am able to give some extremely interesting notes communicated by himself. Of this, however, the _Asrár-i Khudí_ gives no systematic account, though it puts his ideas in a popular and attractive form. While the Hindu philosophers, in explaining the doctrine of the unity of being, addressed themselves to the head, Iqbal, like the Persian poets who teach the same doctrine, takes a more dangerous course and aims at the heart. He is no mean poet, and his verse can rouse or persuade even if his logic fail to convince. His message is not for the Mohammedans of India alone, but for Moslems everywhere: accordingly he writes in Persian instead of Hindustani--a happy choice, for amongst educated Moslems there are many familiar with Persian literature, while the Persian language is singularly well adapted to express philosophical ideas in a style at once elevated and charming. Iqbal comes forward as an apostle, if not to his own age, then to posterity-- “I have no need of the ear of To-day, I am the voice of the poet of To-morrow”-- and after Persian fashion he invokes the Saki to fill his cup with wine and pour moonbeams into the dark night of his thought, “That I may lead home the wanderer, And imbue the idle looker-on with restless impatience, And advance hotly on a new quest, And become known as the champion of a new spirit.”