Combining dirt, idleness,
and religion together, the Hindoo Fukeer, attired in the minutest
rag of raiment, at times in none at all, wanders from place to place,
and with long and matted hair, blood-shot haggard eyes, and scowling
visage, fancies himself upon the path which leads direct to Paradise.
Attenuated to the last degree, he suffers all extremes of heat and
cold, sleeps upon a bed of ashes, and sits moodily beneath the burning
mid-day sun, lives on charity while scorning usually to ask for alms,
and bears the reputation of a saint while reducing himself to the
very level of the beasts that perish.
Something of the cheerful feelings which actuate these religious
mendicants may be found in the following passage: -- "He may be
called a wise 'Jogee,' or 'Fukeer,' who has dried up the reservoir
of hope with the fire of austere devotion, and who has subdued his
mind, and kept the organs of sense in their proper place; and this
is the condition of persons in this world, that their bodies undergo
dissolution, their heads shake, and their teeth fall out.
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