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We discussed titles for awhile, and finally agreed on EAST-WEST. After we had reentered his study, Burbank gave me an article he had written on "Science and Civilization." "This will go in the first issue of EAST-WEST," I said gratefully. As our friendship grew deeper, I called Burbank my "American saint." "Behold a man," I quoted, "in whom there is no guile!"
Our alliances with major partners, the great industrial democracies of Western Europe, Japan, and Canada, have never been more solid. Consultations on mutual security, defense, and East-West relations have grown closer. Collaboration has branched out into new fields such as energy, economic policy, and relations with the Third World.
The illustrious successor in the formal Shankara line, Jagadguru Sri Shankaracharya of Sringeri Math, wrote an inspiring ODE dedicated to Sadasiva. EAST-WEST for July, 1942, carried an article on Sadasiva's life. "Guruji, I am glad to find you alone this morning." I had just arrived at the Serampore hermitage, carrying a fragrant burden of fruit and roses. Sri Yukteswar glanced at me meekly.
Sunday services, classes, lectures before clubs and colleges, interviews with students, ceaseless streams of correspondence, articles for EAST-WEST, direction of activities in India and numerous small centers in American cities.
In an article in EAST-WEST, April, 1934, a summary of VAISESIKA scientific knowledge was given as follows: "Though the modern 'atomic theory' is generally considered a new advance of science, it was brilliantly expounded long ago by Kanada, 'the atom-eater. The Sanskrit ANUS can be properly translated as 'atom' in the latter's literal Greek sense of 'uncut' or indivisible.
The next east-west grade which I was aiming to reach, four miles north, was the second correction line that I had to use, twenty-four miles distant from the first; and only a few hundred yards from its corner I should be at home! At home! All my thoughts were bent on getting home now. Five or six hours of driving will make the strongest back tired, I am told. Mine is not of the strongest.
North of the drift, just about where the new cut-out joined the east-west grade, there was a small clearing caused by a bush fire which a few years ago had penetrated thus far into this otherwise virgin corner of the forest. Unfortunately it stood so full of charred stumps that it was impossible to get through there.
It had offered a lane to the wind; and the wind, going there, in cramped space, at a doubly furious stride, had picked up and carried along all the loose snow from the grassy glades in its path. The road ended abruptly just north of the drift, where the east-west grade sprang up.
There was another fork in the trail, and again I had to get out and walk on the side, to feel with my foot for the rut where it branched to the north. And then, after a while, the landscape opened up, the brush receded. At last I became conscious of a succession of posts to the right, and a few minutes later I emerged on the second east-west grade.
We had talked snow, and he had said, "Oh, up here it never is bad except along this grade," we were stopping on the last east-west grade, the one I was coming to "there you cannot get through. You'd kill your horses. Level with the tree-tops." Well, I had had just that a little while ago I could not afford any more of it. So I made up my mind to try a new trail, across a section which was fenced.
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