appears to be an immense difference between his principles and his practice, not uncommon with his class, as we see the same result in the professors of other faiths. In fine, Kurrum Doss is in comfortable worldly circumstances, and out of the proceeds of the offerings made to him, has built houses at Hurdwar, where he lives, which he lets out to pilgrims, and lives on the proceeds. He has disciples also whom he instructs in the principles of Jogieism, and he receives, well to do as he is, the offerings of the charitable. The parallel marks upon his forehead shew him to be a worshipper of Siva, of whom, in general, Jogies profess to be devotees, until the spiritual attainments have conducted them into an independant condition of complete abstraction and beatitude. When his portrait was taken Kurrum Doss was fifty-eight years of age, and he is a fine specimen of his class. He is restricted to vegetable food, but he may smoke intoxicating preparations, in which, especially ganja or hemp leaves, he indulges freely, being assisted thereby in his dreamy contemplations. Religious Jogies, so to speak, those who are in the practice of the fearful austerities of the order, seldom beg. It is enough for one of them to stroll through a village crying aloud some invocation, or to sit down under a tree outside in rapt meditation, for offerings of all kinds to be brought to him. If they are valuable, he either refuses or redistributes them; except when he may have a vow of building a shrine or a temple by the sacred river. What need has a Jogi to beg for himself?—a little milk is in most instances his sole daily food, and clothes he has none, or next to none. In a country of universal charity to religious mendicants and professors, his calling insures him the support he needs.
There are, however, other Jogies than the religious devotees, whose practices, as their turn comes, will be separately explained.
