ons began again. But this was more than flesh
and blood could stand. My outraged morning sleep _would_ have its
revenge and I would be toppling over with uncontrollable drowsiness.
Nevertheless, no sooner did my father take pity on my plight and let me
off, than my sleepiness was off likewise. Then ho! for the mountains.

Staff in hand I would often wander away from one peak to another, but my
father did not object. To the end of his life, I have observed, he never
stood in the way of our independence. Many a time have I said or done
things repugnant alike to his taste and his judgment; with a word he
could have stopped me; but he preferred to wait till the prompting to
refrain came from within. A passive acceptance by us of the correct and
the proper did not satisfy him; he wanted us to love truth with our
whole hearts; he knew that mere acquiescence without love is empty. He
also knew that truth, if strayed from, can be found again, but a forced
or blind acceptance of it from the outside effectually bars the way in.

[Illustration: The Himalayas]

In my early youth I had conceived a fancy to journey along the Grand
Trunk Road, right up to Peshawar, in a bullock cart. No one else
supported the scheme, and doubtless there was much to be urged against
it as a practical proposition. But when I discoursed on it to my father
he was sure it was a splendid idea--travelling by railroad was not worth
the name! With which observation he proceeded to recount to me his own
adventurous wanderings on foot and horseback. Of any chance of
discomfort or peril he had not a word to say.

Another time, when I had just been appointed Secretary of the Adi Brahma
Samaj, I went over to my father, at his Park Street residence, and
informed him that I did not approve of the practice of only Brahmins
conducting divine service to the exclusion of other castes. He
unhesitatingly gave me permission to correct this if I could. When I got
the authority I found I lacked the power. I was able to discover
imperfections but could not create perfection! Where were the men? Where
was the strength in me to attract the right man? Had I the means to
build in the place of what I might break? Till the right man comes any
form is better than none--this, I felt, must have been my father's view
of the existing order. But he did not for a moment try to discourage me
by pointing out the difficulties.

As he allowed me to wander about the mountains at my will, so