"There was a door to which I found no key:
There was a veil past which I could not see.
Some little talk awhile of me and thee
There seemed-and then no more thee and me..."


Brought up and confirmed in the Church of England, like many other Englishmen, I spent most of my boyhood in an old Catherdal city--a city which, at that time, was "...famous for its large number of churches and public-houses!"

I remember being taught the Ten Commandments by teachers and others, learning the Catechism, reading the Bible, and so on, but beyond imbibing a kind of morbid emotionalism, and passing various school examinations in "religious knowledge," I am afraid my upbringing was lacking in what one would call real spiritual discipline, which would adequately equip me for the adventure of life.

During 1918-1919 I happened to see some service with the Royal Air Force in Egypt. While here, an English friend and I had the opportunity of attending a midnight observance of Maulud-un-Nabi (Birthday of Prophet). I remember this impressed us greatly at the time,--the chanting in Arabic, the flag of the Holy Prophet floating in the breeze, the sincerity of the worshippers, and their kindly hospitality. But I must admit that at that time we were there merely as sight-seers.

It was on my return to England, after demobilization, that my enquiries and questionings commenced. What actually first prompted the quest after wisdom was a little book--"Thoughts are Things"--by a New Thought writer, Prentice Mulford. This helpful little volume showed in simple language the power of thought: how wrong thoughts attract an environment of wrong, and how, vice versa, corrcet scientific thinking tends to attractwhat is desirable, and so on.


This search lasted some four or five years, during which I read and stdied widely, and attended various lectures and discussions. Theosophy, Buddhism, Yoga Philisophy, Siritualism, Sufi Mysticism, Catholicism, New Thought, Pelmanism,--all came in turn under my scrutiny, but thought I could see certain eternal truths enshrined in all these philosophies, so far I "came out by the same door as I went..."

It was not until 1924 that I first became acquainted with the simple teaching of Islam, so eminently reasonable and satisfying. Happening one day to go into a public library in the Midlands, I came upon a current copy of the Islamic Review and coming to the pages "What is Islam?" I there and then knew that I had come to the end of my search.

I read a code of laws, which, if faithully observed, would lead to success, both temporal and eternal, to peace and mind and serenity, and which would also show how the effects of past mistakes could be nullified. I read of a royal philosophy, simple in form, yet profound enough for a lifetime of study, which would enable the individual soul to orientate itself and its activities correctly, and to take its rightful place in the mighty universe.

Shortly afterwards I formally accepted Islam and was received into the Brotherhood by Imam Khawaja Nazir Ahmad.

Since those days I have always been able to view world affairs from the real standpoint--the standpoint of the Muslim,--instead of having false beliefs and materialistic opinions forced on me by the world, which is te case with thousands who are unable t discern truth from falsehood, or even right from wrong!

Finally, Islam forbids the cardinal sin of selfishness, and teaches that one cannot be happy if one's brother is unhappy. A welll-known Eastern thinker once said: "Our vocation is our real lamp in life, whatever our occupation may be." After our daily needs are satisfied, and we have made due provisions for our future material welfare, let us, Muslims, all find a vocation. It may be in lightening our brother's burden in a material sense, or it may be spiritual help we can give him. But let us find that vocation, for it will be our only passport to lasting happiness, the only justification for our existence both here and herafter.

Fazl Karim Saunders