n, exactly as it happens to agree with the stomach. Don't you
see?

"_Disciple._ Yes, sir, now I do. The Lord is to be worshipped in
the image of clay as a spirit by the beginner. The devotee, as
he advances, may worship Him independently of the image.

"_Master._ Yes. And again, when he sees God he realises that
everything--image and all--is a manifestation of the Spirit. To
him the image is made of Spirit--not of clay. God is a Spirit."

As I read this, I remembered the answer invariably given to me when I
asked about Hindu idolatry. The people, I was told, even the humblest
and most ignorant, worshipped not the idol but what it symbolised.
Actually, this hideous Kali stood to them for the Divine Mother. And I
was told of an old woman, racked with rheumatism, who had determined at
last to seek relief from the goddess. She returned with radiant face.
She had seen the Mother! And she had no more rheumatism. In this popular
religion, it would seem, the old cosmic elements have dropped out, and
the human only persist. So that even the terrifying form of Shiva, the
Destroyer, stands only for the divine husband of Parvati, the divine
wife. Hinduism, I admitted, is not as inhuman and superstitious as it
looks. But I admitted it reluctantly and with many reserves, remembering
all I had seen and heard of obscene rites and sculptures, of the
perpetual repetition of the names of God, of parasitic Brahmins and
self-torturing ascetics.

What manner of man, then, was this Sri Ramakrishna? I turned the pages
and read:

"The disciples were walking about the garden. M. walked by
himself at the cluster of five trees. It is about five in the
afternoon. Coming back to the verandah, north of the Master's
chamber, M. comes upon a strange sight. The Master is standing
still. Narendra is singing a hymn. He and three or four other
disciples are standing with the Master in their midst. M. is
charmed with their song. Never in his life has he heard a
sweeter voice. Looking at the Master, M. marvels and becomes
speechless. The Master stands motionless. His eyes are fixed. It
is hard to say whether he is breathing or not. This state of
ecstasy, says a disciple in low tones, is called Samadhi. M. has
never seen or heard of anything like this. He thinks to himself,
'Is it possible that the thought of God can make a man forget
the world? How great must be his fa