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 guru, for she had never sent out her armies for plunder and pillage, but only her messages of peace and goodwill. This glory, which India had earned as the fruit of her self-discipline, was greater than that of the widest of Empires.

When with the loss of our glory we, with our bundled-up belongings, were huddled together in our corner, it was high time for the Britisher to come. At his onslaught the defensive barriers of our crouching, run-away Samaj began to give way in places, and through the gaps the Outside, in dread of which we had shrunk into ourselves, came hurtling in upon us. Now who shall thrust it back? With this breaking down of our enclosure we discovered two things — how wonderfully strong we had been, how miserably weak we have become.

And to-day we have likewise understood that this policy of funk will not do. The true way of self-defence is to loose our inherent powers. The policy of protection by imitation of the conqueror is a self-delusion which will not serve, either,—the imitation cannot prevail against the reality. I repeat, therefore, that the only way to stem the tide of waste of heart and taste and intellect is, to become our true selves, consciously, actively and with our full strength. Our dormant shakti must awake at the impact of the outside, for to-day the world stands sorely in need of the priceless fruits of the discipline of our ancient Rishis. God will not allow these to go to waste. That is why, in the fulness of time, He has roused us by this agony of suffering.

The realisation of unity in diversity, the establishment of a synthesis amidst variety,—that is the inherent, the Sanatan Dharma of India. India does not admit difference to be conflict, nor does she espy an enemy in every stranger. So she repels none, destroys none, she abjures no methods, recognises the greatness of all ideals, and she seeks to bring them all into one grand harmony.

By reason of this genius of India, Hindu, Moslem and Christian need not fight here for supremacy, but will find common ground under the shelter of her hospitality. That common ground will not be un-Hindu, it will be more especially Hindu. And however foreign the several limbs may be, the heart will still be the heart of India.

If we but realise this God-given function of India, our aim will become true, our shame will depart from us, and we shall revive the undying shakti of India. Before that great day comes, call once on the Mother! The One Mother who, through the ages, has been nourishing her children from her eternal store of wisdom and truth, preserving them from destruction, drawing them nearer one another, and to Herself.

We had once learnt to despise riches, to make poverty beautiful and glorious. Shall we to-day insult our Sanatan Dharma by falling prostrate before money? Shall we not once more be fit to serve our Mother, to build anew her fallen house, by taking up a clean, disciplined, simple life? It was never reckoned a shame in our country to eat off plantain leaves—the shame was in eating by oneself alone. Shall we not get back this sense of shame? Shall we not be able to forego some of our comforts, some of our luxuries, so that we may have enough to serve to all our brethren? Will that which was once so easy for us become impossible to-day? Never!

Even in her uttermost extremity India’s tremendous power has secretly and calmly regained victory for herself. I know for certain that this school-taught obsession of ours will never be able to prevail over that imperishable power. I know for certain that the deep note of India’s call has already found a response in our hearts, and that, unknown to ourselves, we are slowly but surely going back to her. Here, standing at the crossing of the ways, with face turned towards Home, and eyes fixed on the pure light of its sacred lamp, call once on the Mother!

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