When Adam was created, God commanded Gabriel to take the three most precious pearls of the divine treasury, and offer them in a golden salver to Adam, to choose for himself one of the three. The three pearls were: _wisdom_, _faith_, and _modesty_. Adam chose the pearl of _wisdom_. Gabriel then proceeded to remove the salver with the remaining two pearls, in order to replace them in the divine treasury. With all his mighty power, he found he could not lift the salver. The two pearls said to him: “We will not separate from our beloved wisdom. We could not be happy and quiet away from it. From all eternity, we three have been the three compeers of God’s glory, the pearls of His power. We cannot be separated.” A voice was now heard to proceed from the divine presence, saying: “Gabriel! leave them, and come away.” From that time, wisdom has taken its seat on the summit of the brain of Adam; faith took up its abode in his heart; modesty established itself in his countenance. Those three pearls have remained as the heirlooms of the chosen children of Adam. For, whoever, of all his descendants, is not embellished and enriched with those three jewels, is lacking of the sentiment and lustre of his divine origin. So runs the narrative reported by Husām, Jelāl’s successor, as having been imparted to him by the latter. 53. A certain flute-player named Hamza, much beloved by Jelāl, happened to die. Jelāl sent some of his disciples to array the defunct in his grave-clothes. He himself followed them to the house of the deceased. On entering the room, Jelāl addresses the dead body: “My dear friend Hamza, arise!” Instantly, the deceased arose, saying: “Lo, here I am!” He then took his flute, and for three whole days and nights a religious festival was kept up in his house. Above a hundred Roman misbelievers were thereby converted to the faith of Islām. When Jelāl left the house, life departed from the corpse also. 54. Among the disciples there was a hunchback, a devout man, and a player on the tambourine, whom Jelāl loved. On the occasion of a festival, this poor man beat his tambourine and shouted in ecstasy to an unusual degree. Jelāl was also greatly moved in the spirit with the holy dance. Approaching the hunchback, he said to him: “Why erectest thou not thyself like the rest?” The infirmity of the hunch was pleaded. Jelāl then patted him on the back, and stroked him down. The poor man immediately arose, erect and graceful as a cypress. When he went home, his wife refused him admittance, denying that he was her husband. His companions came, and bare witness to her of what had happened. Then she was convinced, let him in, and the couple lived together for many years afterwards. 55.