‘Oh, did I tell you--I told somebody--about my other Brahmin; the elderly man who prays by the side of our tank? I have repeatedly spoken to him in my indifferent Panjabi; and I spoke to my nephew, R. Bateman, about him, when he was here for two days. So on one of the mornings I see my nephew seated beside my Brahmin close to the tank, with only a handkerchief round his delicate head. His old Auntie soon supplied him with an umbrella. R. Bateman gave me afterwards an account of the Brahmin’s strange view of religion. One can hardly imagine a mind in which the whole visible creation is regarded as God. The Brahmin had no idea of _sin_; he had _never seen it_, he said,--as if it were a thing like a stone or a tree!