ABSTRACT
These are the opening words of W. G. Hole’s poem, The Fools of God, which I discovered in the Visva-Bharati Quarterly in 1929, a few months before I went to India. It is not a well-known poem, but I doubt if anything I have ever read made a more profound or lasting impression on my mind. This was due not merely to the intrinsic merit of the verses, but to the fact that they proved prophetic.
