LETTERS FROM ABROAD
WELLESLEY, Mass., January 25, 1921.
I am going to read my lecture on the Poet’s Religion to-night to the Wellesley College students. To-morrow, and the day after, I have to read two more lectures in Emerson Hall, Harvard. Boston is about an hour’s journey from here. I went there last Sunday and I am going to stay there till the end of the week. Coming to Boston has been a great relief to me. I felt in New York like living in the planet Saturn, which has its crowd of innumerable satellites, but revolves some billions of miles away from the central source of light. I am home-sick for my beautiful earth, simple and tender, bathed in light and dressed in green.
Just at this point, I was called away to dinner and then to the meeting; and after it was over, we motored back to Boston, where I am now. It is tiring work—the more so because my heart is hungering day and night for wide space and leisure, that sumptuous feast of the soul, which has been mine from my infancy.
I am suffering from the great discomfort of having my feet on the decks of two different boats -as the Bengali proverb has it. The organiser in me is planning to raise funds. I hate with all my heart this wretched organiser— this disciple of the West. I have my profoundest faith in the sanyasi
