“Oh, how I wish that we had work-houses or alms-houses here, to which to send such miserable objects!” cried the kind-hearted girl. “The jogi would not thank you for imprisoning him in the most comfortable alms-house that ever was built,” observed Harold. “The beggar likes his wandering life, and the honour—I may say worship—which he gains from the people, who regard him, as the poor wretch regards himself, almost as a god upon earth.” “O Harold, you are jesting,” exclaimed Alicia. “You have little idea, my daughter, of the length to which superstition can go,” observed Mr. Hartley. “The dirty jogi would have thought himself defiled by taking food from your clean white fingers!” cried Robin. “You thought him a scarecrow; he sets up for a saint.” “I could tell you an extraordinary story,” said Mr. Hartley, “and a true one, which I had from my good friend Andrew Gordon of the American Mission. It will show you in a striking manner how pretenders to sanctity impose on the ignorant natives of India.[3] “In a large village called Jandran, not long ago, lived twenty-five families of Megs, a caste of weavers. These poor people had begun to feel dissatisfied with their old religion, and to desire clearer light. Whilst in this inquiring state they were visited by a fagir [religious beggar], who resolved to offer himself to them as a guru, or religious teacher. “‘Have you people ever found God?’ inquired Maston Singh (such was the fagir’s name). Footnote 3: For this story at fuller length, and many other curious anecdotes, see the late Rev. A. Gordon’s interesting work, “Our Indian Mission.” “‘No, we have not found God,’ was the honest reply of the simple weavers. ““I am quite sure that you have not,’ said Maston Singh; ‘for God is not to be found in the religion of either Hindus or Mohammedans. But I can reveal him to you; and if I can bring him near to you, even causing your eyes to see him, will you receive and follow me as your guru?’ “‘Most certainly,’ replied Rama, a leader amongst the Megs. ‘It is this very thing that we are all earnestly seeking; this is the great desire of our hearts.’” “I wish that a Christian missionary had gone to these honest inquirers, instead of a deceitful fagir,” said Alicia. “The Megs were to hear the truth afterwards,” observed Mr. Hartley; “but not until they had found out that it was not to be learned from a lying fagir.” “Pray go on with your story, dear father.” “The poor Megs found that it was no trifling expense to have to support such a guru as Maston Singh. He required daily a pound of meal, two pounds of milk, besides spices, tobacco, and ghee [a kind of preserved butter]. Nay, the greedy guru must fain have a servant besides. However difficult it might be to the poor peasants to supply his numerous wants, they resolved to make such efforts in order to be taught by him true religion.” “How could the man teach others what he did not know himself?” observed Robin.