er, is to describe. The Soofies then are, as far as I
can comprehend, strictly religious men, who have forsaken entirely all
attachment to earthly things, in their adoration of the one supreme God.
They are sometimes found dwelling in the midst of a populous city, yet,
even there they are wholly detached from the world, in heart, soul, and
mind, exercising themselves in constant adoration of, and application to
God; occasionally shutting themselves up for several weeks together in a
hut of mud, thatched with coarse grass, with scarce sufficient provision
to support the smallest living animal, and water barely enough to moisten
their parched lips during the weeks thus devoted to solitary retirement
and prayer.

When these recluses can no longer support their self-inflicted privation,
they open the door of their hut, a signal anxiously watched for by such
persons as have a desire to meet the eye of the holy man, of whom they
would inquire on some (to them) interesting matter; probably regarding
their future prospects in the world, the cause of the ill-health and
prospects of recovery of a diseased member of their family, or any like
subject of interest to the inquirer.

The Soofie, I am told, does not approve of being thus teased by the
importunities of the thronging crowd, who beset his threshold the instant
his door is heard to open. Being weak in body, after the fatigue of a
protracted fast of weeks together, his replies to the questions (preferred
always with remarkable humility) are brief and prompt; and the Natives
assure me dependence may always be placed on the good Soofie's reply being
strictly the words of truth. On this account, even if the oracle's reply
disappoint the hopes of the questioner, he retires without a murmur, for
then he knows the worst of his calamity, and if God orders it so, he must
not complain, because Infinite Wisdom cannot err, and the holy man will
assuredly speak the truth.

The practice so long prevailing in Europe of visiting the cunning man, to
have the hidden mysteries of fate solved, occurred to my recollection when
I first heard of this custom in India.

'Will my son return from his travels during my lifetime?'--was the inquiry
of a truly religious man, whom I knew very intimately, to one of the
professed Soofie class, on his emerging from his hut. The reply was as
follows:--'Go home!--be happy;--comfort your heart;--he is coming!' By a
singular coincidence it happened, that the