all the resources of the community are put at their disposal, just as if they were their own; and they enter the houses of men whom they have never seen before as though they were their most intimate friends. Consequently, they carry nothing whatever with them on their journeys, except arms as a protection against brigands. In every city of the order there is one expressly appointed to attend to strangers, who provides them with raiment and other necessaries.
In their dress and general appearance they resemble boys who are schooled under a rigorous system.[1] They do not change their garments or shoes until they are torn to shreds or worn threadbare with age.
There is no buying or selling among themselves, but each gives what he has to any in need and receives from him in exchange something useful to himself; they are also freely permitted to accept whatever they choose without making any return.
Their Prayers to the Sun. The Refectory
In religious matters[2] their piety is unique. Before the sun is up they utter no word on mundane matters, but offer to him certain prayers, which have been handed down from their forefathers, as though entreating him to rise. They are then dismissed by the overseers to the various crafts in which they are severally proficient and are strenuously occupied until the fifth hour, when they again assemble in one place and, girding themselves with linen cloths, so equipped bathe their bodies in cold water. After this purification, they collect in a private apartment which none of the uninitiated is permitted to enter, and so, pure and by themselves, repair to the Refectory, as to some sacred shrine. When they have
