It is known that the Hindus, that is, the legalists attached to the Smriti (holy scripture), light up a fire, and with it sacrifice a sheep, not without reciting spells and prayers; which they call performing _Hóm_. The Jnánindra says: “Our fire is piety, and in it I burn the wood of duality; instead of a sheep, I sacrifice egotism: this is my _Hóm_.” Thus he interprets the whole religion of the Hindus, and a great number of men became his disciples. He has a nephew, called _Gangu_, ten years old, and younger than Sádarshan. One day, Gangu was crying from anger; the author of this book said to him: “Yesterday thou saidst: ‘The world and what it contains are but illusion;’ now, why dost thou cry?” He replied: “If the world is nothing, then my crying has no reality; I am not in contradiction with myself.” So saying, he continued to cry. “_The socíety of good men renders good._” Jaganath, eight years old, is the son of a Jnáníndra; he brought a puppy into a house where an idol was worshipped, put him there in the idol’s place, and drew the mark of cast on his head. The boy was asked: “What art thou doing?” He answered: “The stone has no life; why should you not rather worship the puppy than this idol? Besides, each person worships what he finds agreeable. Because this worship is a play, I play with this dog.” And none of the people of the house raised a hand on account of the boy’s liberty, but uttered blessings upon him. In the year 1049 of the Hejira (1639 A. D.) the author of these pages visited in Kachmir a Jnáníndra, and was delighted with his society. He called him his _atma_, that is, his “intellectual soul.” The Jnáníndra was asked: “Who is thy disciple?” He answered: “It is he who, having arrived to the self-existent God, knows and sees himself to be nothing else but God.” At the time when the writer of this book was walking with a Hindu pious man on the border of the lake of Kashmir, a Sanyási who had pretensions to independence, joined us. There, a meal was brought to us, and the Sanyási eat with that pious man. After this, he began to boast: “Hitherto I have not eat any flesh: it is but now that I have tasted some.” The Jnání offered a cup of wine to him, who drank it for the sake of discarding care. He then reassumed the theme of self-praise. The pious philosopher had some bread of the bazar, which according to the Hindu faith is still more prohibited than wine, brought upon the table-cloth. The Sanyási broke a bit of the bread, eat it, and again praised himself without measure: “Now,” said he, “am I free of all bonds.” The wise smiled, and said: “Nothing remains but to eat cow-flesh.” The Sanyási, as soon as he heard this, left the company.