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stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted?" He who had staked his all in the name of duty, he who had ventured his life into the most obscure and perilous parts of the country for the sake of his Hari was little likely to be daunted by the cruel orders of a bigot. "He whose trust is God little fears death." In this degenerate age—the era of hypocrisy, of brag and bluster—every frown of a relative, every taunt of a friend, produces an apostate. But the great men of all countries have been made of sterner stuff. With them to think is to say, to say is to do. May we tread in their footsteps! From Gour Chaitanya goes to Santipur, and thence returns to Pooree.
But a restless soul anxious to sow peace over a nation can never relish rest and enjoyment. He sets out for Madhura to behold the sacred haunts of his favourite God, Krishna. But the simple-minded have in all ages followed the saintly in perplexing numbers. The immense mass of people that accompanied him on his way to
