During the past fortnight
I had addressed thousands of Mysore citizens and students, at the
Town Hall, the Maharajah's College, the University Medical School;
and three mass meetings in Bangalore, at the National High School,
the Intermediate College, and the Chetty Town Hall where over
three thousand persons had assembled. Whether the eager listeners
had been able to credit the glowing picture I drew of America,
I know not; but the applause had always been loudest when I spoke
of the mutual benefits that could flow from exchange of the best
features in East and West.
Mr. Wright and I were now relaxing in the tropical peace. His travel
diary gives the following account of his impressions of Mysore:
"Brilliantly green rice fields, varied by tasseled sugar cane
patches, nestle at the protective foot of rocky hills-hills dotting
the emerald panorama like excrescences of black stone-and the play
of colors is enhanced by the sudden and dramatic disappearance of
the sun as it seeks rest behind the solemn hills.
"Many rapturous moments have been spent in gazing, almost absent-mindedly,
at the ever-changing canvas of God stretched across the firmament,
for His touch alone is able to produce colors that vibrate with the
freshness of life. That youth of colors is lost when man tries to
imitate with mere pigments, for the Lord resorts to a more simple
and effective medium-oils that are neither oils nor pigments, but
mere rays of light.
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