LETTERS FROM ABROAD
have not read right the great purpose of our history.
For passion is darkness. It exaggerates isolated facts, and makes our minds stumble against them at every step. Love is the light, that reveals to us the perfection of unity, and saves us from the constant oppression of the detached —of the immediate.
And therefore I embrace you, take my inspiration from your love, and send you my birth-day namaskar.
NEAR ZURICH, May 10, 1921.
I have just received a birth-day greeting from Germany through a committee consisting of men like Eudken, Harnack, Hauptmann, and others and with it a most generous gift consisting of at least four hundred copies of valuable German books. It has deeply touched my heart, and 1 xi vervain that it will find response in the hearts of my countrymen.
To-morrow I have my invitation at Zurich, and on the thirteenth of this month I leave Switzerland for Germany. Haven’t I said to you, in some letter of mine, that my life has followed the course of my celestial namesake, the Sun—and that the last part of my hours is claimed by tho West? How genuine has been the claim, I never realised before I had visited the continent of Europe. I feel deeply thankful for this privilege, not only because it is
