us, her Literature wallowing in the gutter,
and her women descending from the pedestal of sex to play the virago in
the contamination of the crowd: with so many other things, not here to
be considered, to raise a doubt, whether this Liberty is taking her just
where she wished to go, what wonder if even Europe should begin to
meditate on means of emancipation, even if only from vulgarity, and
steal a furtive glance or two towards the East, to see, whether, by
diligently raking in the ashes of ancient oriental creeds, she might not
discover here and there a spark, at which to rekindle the expiring
candle of her own. For there seems to be some curious indestructible
_asbestos_, some element of perennial, imperturbable tranquillity and
calm, away in India, which is conspicuous only by its absence, in the
worry of the West. Where does it come from? What does it consist in? Is
there a secret which India has discovered, which Europe cannot guess? Is
there anything in it, after all, but barbaric superstition, destined to
fade away and disappear, in the sunrise of omniscience?

[Footnote 5: [Greek: honar heleutherias horhontas. Plutarch.]]

I cannot tell: but well I recollect a fugitive impression left on me by
an early morning in Benares, now many years ago. I threaded its
extraordinary streets, narrower than the needle's eye, and crowded with
strange, lithe, nearly naked human beings, with black, straight, long
wet hair, and brown shining skins, jostled at every step by holy bulls
or cows, roaming at their own sweet will with large placid lustrous
eyes, in an atmosphere heavy with the half-delicious, half-repulsive
odour of innumerable flowers, mostly yellow, that lay about everywhere
in heaps, fresh and rotten, till I came out finally upon the river bank.
A light steamy mist, converted by the low sun's horizontal rays into a
kind of reddish-golden veil, hung in the quiet air, lending an almost
magical effect to the long row of great temples, whose steps run down
into the river, along the northern bank: half of them in ruins, and
looking as if they must presently slide away into the water and
disappear. And as I floated slowly down, I watched with curiosity, half
wondering if I was dreaming, the throng of devotees, sitting, lying,
gliding here and there, like an antique procession on an old Greek
frieze or vase; some muttering and praying, others bathing, others again
standing motionless as statues in the stream, buried in a s