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These glimpses of the past, by some dimensionless link, also afforded me a glimpse of the future.The helpless humiliations of infancy are not banished from my mind.A perfect parental harmony was the calm center for the revolving tumult of eight young lives.Father, Bhagabati Charan Ghosh, was kind, grave, at times stern.Loving him dearly, we children yet observed a certain reverential distance.An outstanding mathematician and logician, he was guided principally by his intellect.

Sri Yukteswar was of gentle mien and voice, of pleasing presence, and worthy of the veneration which his followers spontaneously accorded to him.To its illustrious author, whom I have had the pleasure of knowing both in India and America, may every reader render due appreciation and gratitude.His unusual life-document is certainly one of the most revealing of the depths of the Hindu mind and heart, and of the spiritual wealth of India, ever to be published in the West.Content to remain afar from the multitude, he gave himself unreservedly and in tranquillity to that ideal life which Paramhansa Yogananda, his disciple, has now described for the ages. I find my earliest memories covering the anachronistic features of a previous incarnation.Clear recollections came to me of a distant life, a yogi 2 amidst the Himalayan snows.My strong emotional life took silent form as words in many languages. Psychological ferment and my unresponsive body brought me to many obstinate crying-spells.

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