safely into Peace. , ,'

"They say that Love is glorious. Alas •! the short-lived
loves of youth and sex» between these dolls of dust moistened
with water that we are, dolls, fashioned with a little flesh,
moulded over bones, and tied and held in place with thong's I
The eyes that see the depths of Heaven in each other—they
are but skin and nerves, blood, pigment and salt tears. The
flowing locks, perfumed with sweetest scents, the maze of
shining curls that dazed the mind, the bloom of burning- gold,
the moon face and its smiles like blowing lotus buds, the
glowing bust down which the wreaths of priceless pearls
streamed like the streams of Ganga down the snowy slopes of
Himavan and the golden sides of Meru, how are these fit food,
0 holy Muni !, for the fire of the cremation ground and its
ill-omened birds and beasts of carrion ! What is the meaning
of these strange and cruel things, 0 Sage ? Alas ! these
dazzling limbs are all mere flesh. The ruthless winds shall
blow about the ashes of those forms that were erstwhile, unto
each other, the whole concentred world with all its joys.

^And even worse than youth is the old age we see around
us. Far better youth should die than pass into the living
death of age. As youth did mar the innocence of infancy, so
age fitly destroys the joys of youth. As the hot blast dries the
dew-drop, as the hoarfrost blights the bloom, as the torrent
tears down green trees, so old age overpowers youth. No
friend stands fast to help against that sure defeat. Even
intelligence, at the approach of age, deserts the man, like a
high-minded dame insulted with a rival. Only a ceaseless,
helpless, craving for the past, makes a lasting home in the
desolate heart, even as obscene vultures i^iake their roost in
old, leafless, and scorched and stunted trees. And ever-present
terrors of the future sweep o/er it as hot winds; sweep o'er the
desert. Better to see a city long. deserted, .better to see a