e spirit of Narayana, the egg bursts and
the awakened Brahma rises to the surface of the water in the shape of a
huge lotus. Light clouds appear, at first transparent and web-like. They
gradually become condensed, and transform themselves into Prajapatis,
the ten personified creative powers of Brahma, the god of everything
living, and sing a hymn of praise to the creator. Something naively
poetical, to our unaccustomed ears, breathed in this uniform melody
unaccompanied by any orchestra.

The hour of general revival has struck. Pralaya comes to an end.
Everything rejoices, returning to life. The sky is separated from the
waters and on it appear the Asuras and Gandharvas, the heavenly singers
and musicians. Then Indra, Yama, Varuna, and Kuvera, the spirits
presiding over the four cardinal points, or the four elements, water,
fire, earth, and air, pour forth atoms, whence springs the serpent
"Ananta." The monster swims to the surface of the waves and, bending its
swanlike neck, forms a couch on which Vishnu reclines with the Goddess
of Beauty, his wife Lakshmi, at his feet. "Swatha! Swatha! Swatha!"
cries the choir of heavenly musicians, hailing the deity. In the Russian
church service this is pronounced Swiat! Swiat! Swiat! and means holy!
holy! holy!

In one of his future avatars Vishnu will incarnate in Rama, the son of
a great king, and Lakshmi will become Sita. The motive of the whole poem
of Ramayana is sung in a few words by the celestial musicians. Kama, the
God of Love, shelters the divine couple and, that very moment, a flame
is lit in their hearts and the whole world is created.

Later there are performed the fourteen acts of the drama, which is well
known to everybody, and in which several hundred personages take part.
At the end of the prologue the whole assembly of gods come forward,
one after another, and acquaint the audience with the contents and the
epilogue of their performance, asking the public not to be too exacting.
It is as though all these familiar deities, made of painted granite and
marble, left the temples and came down to remind mortals of events long
past and forgotten.

The hall was full of natives. We four alone were representatives of
Europe. Like a huge flower bed, the women displayed the bright colors of
their garments. Here and there, among handsome, bronze-like heads, were
the pretty, dull white faces of Parsee women, whose beauty reminded me
of the Georgians. The front rows were o