Dear Reader
The story is told. The curtain is rung down on it. Two life- sentences have been run. And I have brought together my recollections of them within the cover of this book. They are narrated in brief outline to you; they are put together within the narrowest compass.
When I came into this world, God sent me in it on a sort of life-sentence. It was the span of life allotted to me by Time to stay in this “prison-house of life.” This story is but a chapter of that book of life—a longer story not yet ended. As I completed this chapter as a dedication to my great worship of the ideal, so the book of life may end as a dedication to it without break or faltering.
Yes, I am free. The iron fetters on my feet are broken. But the chain of longing that binds my heart still remain. I have come out of the stone-walls which had buried me. But my soul is still imprisoned for my vision is not yet reached. The horizon that limits it is not yet crossed. It engirdles my soul and stifles it.
Dear Reader, Surely you must have been wearied to hear my story, and put out by the endless repetitions in contains. But I am as much tired in writing, as you may begin reading it, this weary tale of my life. It has been a long and weary way for me also. How I have suffered and how much fatigue of the mind I have passed through in putting it on paper! But I shall be more than paid for it, if you feel the same disgust for it that I have felt. For you can finish reading it in a day, while I had to live it for fourteen long years of transportation. And if the story is so tiresome, unendurable and disgusting to you, how much must be the living of it to me! bvery moment of those fourteen years in that jail has been an agony of the soul and the body to me, and to my fellow-convicts in that jail. It was not only fatiguing, unbearable and futile to us all. It was equally or more excruciating as well, to them and to me. And it is only that you may know it, and feel the fatigue, the disgust and the pain of it, as we have felt it, that I have chosen to write it for you. I hope you will have through it some idea of what we have passed through, what we have endured.
Dear Reader, I lay down my pen and take leave of you. My broken pen I cannot put aside, however, without telling you never to forget those who stuck to their task, disheartening and trying though it was; who embraced it to the last; who were nearly burnt up in that fiery ordeal; and who came out of it because nothing could burn them up completely in it, Lest you forget! Dear Reader, I say it to you as my last word, do not forget them. For sooner or later the memory of them will serve you and be your salvation; nothing else will avail.