endless needs of the whole race.  Not only does this leave the majority no time for education, for learning, or for reflection; but by virtue of the strong antagonism between merely physical and intellectual qualities, much excessive bodily labour blunts the understanding and makes it heavy, clumsy, and awkward, and consequently incapable of grasping any other than perfectly simple and palpable matters.  At least nine-tenths of the human race comes under this category.  People require a system of metaphysics, that is, an account of the world and our existence, because such an account belongs to the most natural requirements of mankind.  They require also a popular system of metaphysics, which, in order for it to be this, must combine many rare qualities; for instance, it must be exceedingly lucid, and yet in the right places be obscure, nay, to a certain extent, impenetrable; then a correct and satisfying moral system must be combined with its dogmas; above everything, it must bring inexhaustible consolation in suffering and death.  It follows from this that it can only be true in sensu allegorico and not in sensu proprio.  Further, it must have the support of an authority which is imposing by its great age, by its general recognition, by its documents, together with their tone and statements—­qualities which are so infinitely difficult to combine that many a man, if he stopped to reflect, would not be so ready to help to undermine a religion, but would consider it the most sacred treasure of the people.  If any one wants to criticise religion he should always bear in mind the nature of the great masses for which it is destined, and picture to himself their complete moral and intellectual inferiority.  It is incredible how far this inferiority goes and how steadily a spark of truth will continue to glimmer even under the crudest veiling of monstrous fables and grotesque ceremonies, adhering indelibly, like the perfume of musk, to everything which has come in contact with it.  As an illustration of this, look at the profound wisdom which is revealed in the Upanishads, and then look at the mad idolatry in the India of to-day, as is revealed in its pilgrimages, processions, and festivities, or at the mad and ludicrous doings of the Saniassi of the present time.  Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that in all this madness and absurdity there yet lies something that is hidden from view, something that is in accordance with, or a reflection of the profound wisdom that has been mentioned.  It requires this kind of dressing-up for the great brute masses.  In this antithesis we have before us the two poles of humanity:—­the wisdom of the individual and the bestiality of the masses, both of which, however, find their point of harmony in the moral kingdom.  Who has not thought of the saying from the Kurral—­“Vulgar people look like men; but I have never seen anything like them.”  The more highly cultured man may always explain religion to himself cum grano