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which then enjoyed the reputation of a semi-official publication, called attention to this incident. But these little things never disturbed the equanimity of my friend, Mr. Behari Lal Gupta; and with confidence undimmed and his bright eyes fixed on the radiant side of life, he trudged along the path of official preferment till he became an officiating judge of a High Court in British India and Prime Minister in an Indian State.

In prison, I was treated as a first-class misdemeanant. I was allowed to read and write as I liked. I continued writing for the Bengalee. My letters and telegrams were delivered to me unopened, and were allowed to pass the prison-gates without inspection. There was no restriction as to the number of visitors who were to see me. Presents of fruits (for it was the mango season) and eatables were passed on to me without any objection of any kind, and the Superintendent did all he could to alleviate the hardships of my confinement. After the muster-roll had been called, the gates were closed and visitors were not allowed. I passed the evenings in conversation with fellow-prisoners detained for their debts. They offered to entertain me with music, but, as I ascertained that it would be contrary to the jail regulations, I declined it. Except that it was a bit tiresome, I rather enjoyed my detention. For it was to me a comfortable spell of rest such as I had not enjoyed for many long years; and when I felt the jail I found that I had added to my weight by several pounds.

I was released from prison early on the morning of July 4. The day before, Mr. Stevens, the Magistrate of the 24-Parganas, who afterwards officiated for some time as Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, saw me in prison. The cause of this somewhat surprising visit was soon apparent. I lived at Manirampore near Barrackpore, which was within his jurisdiction. He apprehended that there would be a demonstration on my return home, and he was anxious that I should take measures to prevent it. I did not see my way to falling in with his views. I told him what was intended by my friends and neighbours at Barrackpore, for they had placed them- selves in communication with me, and he tried to discourage the movement. I said that there would be no music or procession in the streets, but that a meeting would be held to welcome me home at the house of my friend, Babu Hara Kissen Sircar, near the railway station. It was his private residence and not a public place. I added that an Englishman's house was his castle, and that as British subjects we had the same privileges, and I did not see my