tic
school of Kanada. They assert that the universe never had a beginning
and never will have an end. "The world and everything in it is but an
illusion, a Maya," say the Vedantists, the Buddhists, and the Jainas;
but, whereas the followers of Sankaracharya preach Parabrahm (a deity
devoid of will, understanding, and action, because "It is absolute
understanding, mind and will"), and Ishwara emanating from It, the
Jainas and the Buddhists believe in no Creator of the Universe,
but teach only the existence of Swabhawati, a plastic, infinite,
self-created principle in Nature. Still they firmly believe, as do
all Indian sects, in the transmigration of souls. Their fear, lest, by
killing an animal or an insect, they may, perchance, destroy the life of
an ancestor, develops their love and care for every living creature to
an almost incredible extent. Not only is there a hospital for invalid
animals in every town and village, but their priests always wear a
muslin muzzle, (I trust they will pardon the disrespectful expression!)
in order to avoid destroying even the smallest animalcule, by
inadvertence in the act of breathing. The same fear impels them to drink
only filtered water. There are a few millions of Jainas in Gujerat,
Bombay, Konkan, and some other places.

The Bombay Pinjarapala occupies a whole quarter of the town, and is
separated into yards, meadows and gardens, with ponds, cages for beasts
of prey, and enclosures for tame animals. This institution would have
served very well for a model of Noah's Ark. In the first yard, however,
we saw no animals, but, instead, a few hundred human skeletons--old men,
women and children. They were the remaining natives of the, so-called,
famine districts, who had crowded into Bombay to beg their bread. Thus,
while, a few yards off, the official "Vets." were busily bandaging the
broken legs of jackals, pouring ointments on the backs of mangy dogs,
and fitting crutches to lame storks, human beings were dying, at their
very elbows, of starvation. Happily for the famine-stricken, there were
at that time fewer hungry animals than usual, and so they were fed on
what remained from the meals of the brute pensioners. No doubt many of
these wretched sufferers would have consented to transmigrate instantly
into the bodies of any of the animals who were ending so snugly their
earthly careers.

But even the Pinjarajala roses are not without thorns. The graminivorous
"subjects," of course, c