The Western student is apt to be somewhat confused in his ideas regarding the Yogis and their philosophy and practice. Travelers to India have written great tales about the hordes of fakirs, mendicants and mountebanks who infest the great roads of India and the streets of its cities, and who impudently claim the title “Yogi.” The Western student is scarcely to be blamed for thinking of the typical Yogi as an emaciated, fanatical, dirty, ignorant Hindu, who either sits in a fixed posture until his body becomes ossified, or else holds his arm up in the air until it becomes stiff and withered and forever after remains in that position, or perhaps clenches his fist and holds it tight until his fingernails grow through the palms of his hands. That these people exist is true, but their claim to the title “Yogi” seems as absurd to the true Yogi as does the claim to the title “Doctor” on the part of the man who pares one’s corns seem to the eminent surgeon, or as does the title of “Professor,” as assumed by the street corner vendor of worm medicine, seem to the President of Harvard or Yale.
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