[Illustration: A HINDU HOLY MAN TORTURING HIMSELF BY HANGING FROM A HOOK.] Some of these Fakirs are but little better than wild beasts, their habits all tend to make them so. They generally live in holes or caves or under banyan trees, and they think that they, by their penances, make atonement for their own sins and for those of the people who care for them. Besides the penances already mentioned, we may add that some drag heavy chains or cannon-balls; some crawl on their hands and knees for years; some roll their naked bodies over and over from the banks of the Indus to the banks of the Ganges; some stand for life before a slow fire; some impose upon themselves a silence of years, and others hang for hours head downwards. All this is done to merit salvation. In no other country in the world, probably, have so many different ways been devised by which men hoped salvation would be earned. Here again is seen the contrast between the offered salvation of Jesus Christ and the sought salvation by penances taught by this heathen faith, most striking. The British government has now forbidden altogether many of these cruel performances, and has limited others. But earnest missionary work has done more than anything else to destroy the people’s faith in the sanctity and wisdom of these so-called holy men. [Illustration: FAKIR HANGING TO A LIMB.] Mr. Bruce, an American missionary at Satara, records an event which in its day caused great excitement. This is his story: Three or four years ago when we went into Satara, we used to see, sitting in the veranda of his house, an old man covered with rags and surrounded with filth. Sometimes we would see him on the street, with rags innumerable upon his person. In America we should have called him a crazy man, but ideas differ in different lands. Here he was a “_saint_,” in whom one of the gods dwelt. When his saintship came to be known by the populace, he was honored and worshiped everywhere. Men who ought to have known better would, on seeing him approach, leave their work, and run and prostrate themselves at his feet. His rags were removed, and he was clothed with a rich robe of purple. No expense was spared to supply all his wants, and he was attended to by two servants, furnished by the Prince of Ouah. At last this rag-man, crazy-man, saint, died. He had said previously, “Wherever I die, there let my tomb be built.” He died in the city, and there the people wished to bury him and erect a tomb which should ever after be an object of worship. But the municipal officers interfered and ordered the body to be removed from the city. Then they buried him in the temple grounds, and another god was added to the millions of Hindu deities. [Illustration: DEVOTEE ENDURING FIRE.] [Illustration: FAKIR OF THE LONG NAILS. The growth of the nails shows how long the hand has been held in this one position.]