The Ulemâs must have been horror-stricken when they found out that Akbar even sought religious instruction from the hated Brahmans. We hear especially of two, Purushottama and Debî by name, the first of whom taught Sanskrit and Brahman philosophy to the Emperor in his palace, whereas the second was drawn up on a platform to the wall of the palace in the dead of the night and there, suspended in midair, gave lessons on profound esoteric doctrines of the Upanishads to the emperor as he sat by the window. A characteristic bit of Indian local color! The proud Padishah of India, one of the most powerful rulers of his time, listening in the silence of night to the words of the Brahman suspended there outside, who himself as proud as the Emperor would not set foot inside the dwelling of one who in his eyes was unclean, but who would not refuse his wisdom to a sincere seeker after truth.

Akbar left no means untried to broaden his religious outlook. From Gujerat he summoned some Parsees, followers of the religion of Zarathustra, and through them informed himself of their faith and their highly developed system of ethics which places the sinful thought on the same level with the sinful word and act.

From olden times the inhabitants of India have had a predisposition for religious and philosophical disputations. So Akbar, too, was convinced of the utility of free discussion on religious dogmas. Based upon this idea, and perhaps also in the hope that the Ulemâs would be discomfited Akbar founded at Fathpur Sikrî, his favorite residence in the vicinity of Agra, the famous Ibâdat Khâna, literally the "house of worship," but in reality the house of controversy. This was a splendid structure composed of four halls in which scholars and religious men of all sects gathered together every Thursday evening and were given an opportunity to defend their creeds in the presence and with the cooperation of the Emperor. Akbar placed the discussion in charge of the wise and liberal minded Abul Fazl. How badly the Ulemâs, the representatives of Mohammedan orthodoxy, came off on these controversial evenings was to be foreseen. Since they had no success with their futile arguments they soon resorted to cries of fury, insults for their opponents and even to personal violence, often turning against each other and hurling curses upon their own number. In these discussions the inferiority of the Ulemâs, who nevertheless had always put forth such great claims, was so plainly betrayed that Akbar learned to have a profound contempt for them.

In addition to this, the fraud and machinations by means of which the Ulemâs had unlawfully enriched themselves became known to the Emperor. At any rate there was sufficient ground for the chastisement which Akbar now visited upon the high clergy. In the year 1579 a decree was issued which assigned to the Emperor the final decision in matters of faith, and this was subscribed to by the chiefs of the Ulemâs,—with what personal feelings we can well imagine. For by this act the Ulemâs were deprived of their ecclesiastical authority which was transferred to the Emperor. That the Orient too possesses its particular official manner of expression in administrative matters is very prettily shown by a decree in which Akbar "granted the long cherished wish" of these same chiefs of the Ulemâs to undertake the pilgrimage to Mecca, which of course really meant a banishment of several years. Other unworthy Ulemâs were displaced from their positions or deprived of their sinecures; others who in their bitterness had caused rebellion or incited or supported mutiny were condemned for high treason. The rich property of the churches was for the most part confiscated and appropriated for the general weal. In short, the power and influence of the Ulemâs was completely broken down, the mosques stood empty and were transformed into stables and warehouses.