This sect interpret the whole religion of the Hindus according to their own belief, and they state that, pursuant to the Védas, to confound during the worship all the subordinate divinities with the one whose existence is necessary, means nothing else but that, in truth, they all emanate from this one; further that it is but he who manifests himself in the form of any deity, and that no Serosh has an existence of his own, but that in Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahadéva, who appeared above, are evidenced the three attributes of God, namely, in Brahma, the creator; in Vishnu, the preserver; and in Mahadéo, the destroyer. Moreover they say, that these three attributes are the mind or intellect, which they call manas, and it is the action of the interior sense which they distinguish particularly by the name of manas.[145] Besides they entertain this belief about the interior sense, that, if the mind wishes, it forms the image of a town; it becomes then Brahma, who has as much as created it; as long as the mind wishes, it preserves its work, on which account it becomes Vishnu, who is its guardian; further, if it wishes, it throws it off, in which sense the mind becomes Mahadeo. Their belief is also, that religious austerity consists in the conviction of the pious, that the world is an appearance without reality, and that, what exists, is in truth God; and that, except him, every thing is but an illusion which comes from him, but in truth has no reality. In their opinion, whoever is desirous of this faith, and does not possess the required knowledge, may by self-application, or by the lessons of a master, or by the instruction of a book, become a proficient in it. The conviction that the world does not exist, may also be acquired by pious exercise; and the perfect therein know, that by means of religious austerity one may acquire what he wishes to learn, and as long as he tends towards it, he has not yet known himself, as he is himself a choice part of the divine being. The pious man, who by dint of austerity renders himself perfect, they call a Yogí,[146] that is, one who by self-mortification attains his aim. The pious, who by mental application, by the instruction of a master, by the study of books, or by any effort not appertaining to religious exercises, raises himself to any perfection, him they name Rája-yogí, that is, one who attains sovereignty.

Among the Hindus are recommended as pious exercises, Mantra,[147] Homa,[148] and Dandavat.[149] Mantra signifies prayer; Homa is throwing clarified butter and like things into the fire, and reciting prayers, in order to render propitious a certain divinity; Dandavat is, when one prostrates himself like a stick before the object of adoration, and touches the ground with the forehead. A person asked Bhartari,[150] who was one of those adepts whom they call Jnánis: “Dost thou recite mantras?” He replied: “I do.” That person asked again: “What mantra?” He answered: “My breath, going out and in, is my mantra.” That man continued to ask: “Dost thou perform Hóm?” The answer was: “I do.” To the question, “And how?” the reply followed: “By what I eat.” That person further inquired: “Dost thou practise the Dańdavat?” After affirmation, being asked “At what time?” he said, “When I sleep, stretched out to rest.” And this speech reminds me of this sentence:

“The sleep of the wise is preferable to the adoration of the ignorant.”

The Hindus call Déva árcháká[151] the worshipper of an idol, that is, one who is devoted to a divinity: which this people interpret to be performing whatever rite a man himself chooses; because the deity is the intellectual soul; to render it obsequious, is to perform the act which it commands, that is, whenever it wills, to see with the eyes, to hear with the ears, to smell with the nose, and so on, in order to please one’s self. According to their account of the revealed unity of God, all is HE. To say so is liable to censure; but it is permitted to assert: “all is I.” Should one not attain to this height of philosophy, he may choose the former thesis. The author of the Gulchén raz, “the rose-garden of mystery,” says:

“Egotism belongs to God alone,

For he is the mystery; think him also the hidden source of illusion.”

This people are masters of themselves in their speeches and actions; they know their origin and their end; and, occupied with themselves, they are imprisoned in the gaol of the world. Sankara Atcharya, who is distinguished among the Brahmans and the Sanyasis, professed this doctrine, and to whatever side he turned his face, contentment followed him. One day the adversaries and deniers of this creed resolved to drive an elephant against him; if he do not fly but remain firm, he is a saint; if otherwise, a bad man. When they had impelled the animal against him, Sankara fled; then they said to him: “Why didst thou fly before an illusion?” He replied: “There is no elephant, nor I; and there was no flight: you saw it in a dream.” All the great men among the Hindus are of this creed, and they agree that, in truth, there is no faith but this, without regard to Avátars and Rakshasas: all the enlightened Pandits have ranged themselves upon this side.

A Jnaníndra is called one of the Brahmans of Kachmir;[152] this class is, in the language of Kachmir, entitled Guruvagurinah, and said to be the fathers of the Jnanían. One whose name was Chívarína, knew well how to keep in his breath; one day he informed the inhabitants of Náu chaher, which is upon the road of Kashmír, that on the morrow he intended to leave his human frame. The next day, the people assembled; Shívarina conversed with them until he arrived at the place where wood had been piled up, on the top of which he sat down with his legs crossed under him (which in the Persian language is called bahín neshisten, and the description of which I gave in the chapter about the imprisonment of breath practised by the Yezdaníán); he left then the human body, and when the people saw that the bird of life had taken his flight from the cage of the body, they set the wood on fire.

Another Jnani practised the subduing of the breath in his youth, and, mastering his soul by means of religious austerity, he attained to that point that, although possessed of little natural capacity, he undertook to read all the books of the Hindus, and understood all their sciences better than the other Pandits, as they all agreed. He now holds the first rank among the learned of his town, and acquired such an independent manner of thinking, that he feels neither pain from the loss, nor pleasure from the increase, of wealth, and holds alike friend, enemy, stranger, and relation; he is not depressed by the insult, nor elated by the praise of whomsoever; wherever he hears the name of a Durvísh, he calls on him, and, if he conceives a good opinion of him, he then frequents him and cultivates his friendship, and never lets him be afflicted and sorrowful; he converses about God’s unity, and cares about nothing else nor busies himself about any other concern, and he visits no other persons but Durvishes. Sodarshan is the name of his sister’s son, who is also connected with him as his pupil; he left wife, son, and the house of this friend, and lives on the little which his disciples bring to him. When the Jnaní wishes to go out, the disciple puts his coat on him: because, inattentive to every thing exterior and to what may be grateful about him, he is never occupied with any thing else but with books.

It is known that the Hindus, that is, the legalists attached to the Smriti (holy scripture), light up a fire, and with it sacrifice a sheep, not without reciting spells and prayers; which they call performing Hóm. The Jnánindra says: “Our fire is piety, and in it I burn the wood of duality; instead of a sheep, I sacrifice egotism: this is my Hóm.” Thus he interprets the whole religion of the Hindus, and a great number of men became his disciples. He has a nephew, called Gangu, ten years old, and younger than Sádarshan. One day, Gangu was crying from anger; the author of this book said to him: “Yesterday thou saidst: ‘The world and what it contains are but illusion;’ now, why dost thou cry?” He replied: “If the world is nothing, then my crying has no reality; I am not in contradiction with myself.” So saying, he continued to cry.