What a wonderful book! Reading it brings on
that serene and blessed mood in which the affections gently lead us on—Until the breath of this corporeal frame and even the motion of our human blood almost suspended, we are laid asleep in body, and become a living soul.
The mood is, I think, the same "pleasure of finding things out" described by Feynman. It is egoless delight in Nature, the kind that makes you want to climb trees and trot barefoot in the mud. Calvin and Hobbes had it too: "It's a wonderful world, Hobbes—let's go exploring!"
He, as well as Govinda, had heard the substance of the Buddha's teachings, if only from second and third-hand reports. But he looked attentively at Gotama's head, at his shoulders, at his feet, at his still, downward-hanging hand, and it seemed to him that in every joint of every finger of his hand there was knowledge; they spoke, breathed, radiated truth. This man, this Buddha, was truly a holy man to the fingertips.
Walking around with the halo of that passage in mind, one can't help but step more lightly and smile, to give way to a surge of simple questions. One is left, by this book, with the mental equivalent of a cleansed palette—vigorous, unaffected curiosity.
I can't say anything better of a piece of writing.