“I wish that a Christian missionary had gone to these honest inquirers, instead of a deceitful fagir,” said Alicia.
“The Megs were to hear the truth afterwards,” observed Mr. Hartley; “but not until they had found out that it was not to be learned from a lying fagir.”
“Pray go on with your story, dear father.”
“The poor Megs found that it was no trifling expense to have to support such a guru as Maston Singh. He required daily a pound of meal, two pounds of milk, besides spices, tobacco, and ghee “How could the man teach others what he did not know himself?” observed Robin. “For eighteen long months this guru went on eating and drinking at the weavers’ expense,” continued the narrator, “teaching them to despise both Mohammedanism and the religion of the Hindus.” “No harm in that,” said Alicia. “No harm, if Maston Singh had given the true in the place of the false religions,” rejoined her father; “but the wretched deceiver summed up his teaching at last with the blasphemous declaration, ‘Greater than man there is none; whatever there is, therefore, is now before your eyes!’” “Oh, the wretch!” exclaimed Robin: “did he mean his own miserable self?” “He did mean himself,” replied Mr. Hartley. “The atheist, not content with the honour accorded to a guru, claimed to be regarded as a being divine.”