THY CALL HAS sped over all countries of the world and men have gathered around thy seat. The day is come. But where is India? Does she still remain hidden, lagging behind? Let her take up her burden and march with all. Send her, mighty God, thy message of victory, O Lord ever awake! Those who defied suffering have crossed the wilderness of death and have shattered their prison of illusions. The day is come. But where is India? Her listless arms are idle and ashamed and futile her days and nights, lacking in joy of life. Touch her with thy living breath, O Lord ever awake! The morning sun of the new age has risen. Thy temple hall is filled with pilgrims. The day is come. But where is India? She lies on the dust in dishonour, deprived of her seat. Remove her shame, and give her a place in thy House of Man, O Lord ever awake! The world's highroads are crowded, resounding with the roar of thy chariot wheels. The sky is trembling with travellers' songs. The day is come. But where is India? Doors are shut in her house age-worn, feeble is her hope, her heart sunk in silence. Send thy voice to her children who are dumb, O Lord ever awake! Peoples there are who have felt thy strength in their own hearts and sinews and have earned life's fulfilment, conquering fear. The day is come. But where is India? Strike thy blow at her self-suspicion and despair! Save her from the dread of her own pursuing shadow, O Lord ever awake!
THE GENERAL came before the silent and angry King and saluting him said: 'The village is punished, the men are stricken to dust, and the women cower in their unlit homes afraid to weep aloud. The High Priest stood up and blessed the King and cried: 'God's mercy is ever upon you.' The Clown, when he heard this, burst out laughing and startled the court. The King's frown darkened. 'The honour of the throne,' said the minister, 'is upheld by the King's prowess and the blessing of Almighty God.' Louder laughed the Clown, and the King growled,-'Unseemly mirth!' 'God has showered many blessings upon your head,' said the Clown; 'the one he bestowed on me was the gift of laughter.' 'This gift will cost you your life,' said the King, gripping his sword with his right hand. Yet the Clown stood up and laughed till he laughed no more. A shadow of dread fell upon the Court, for they heard that laughter echoing in the depth of God's silence.
SANATAN WAS telling his beads by the Ganges when a Brahmin in rags came to him and said, 'Help me, I am poor!' 'My alms-bowl is all that is my own,' said Sanatan, 1 have given away everything I had.' 'But my lord Shiva came to me in my dreams,' said the Brahmin, 'and counselled me to come to you.' Sanatan suddenly remembered he had picked up a stone without price among .the pebbles on the river-bank, and thinking that some one might need it hid it in the sands. He pointed out the spot to the Brahmin, who wondering dug up the stone. The Brahmin sat on the earth and mused alone till the sun went down behind the trees, and cowherds went home with their cattle. Then he rose and came slowly to Sanatan and said, 'Master, give me the least fraction of the wealth that disdains all the wealth of the world.' And he threw the precious stone into the water.
