revolution was wanting, the proletariat being unwilling to be disturbed by the wails and woes of the feudal landlords with their figure-head Royalties. So the rising ended in smoke, making the EngLIsh still more secure in the land.
Thus it was that when Bal, the only son and second child of Gangadharpant {alias Nana) Tilak was passing the early days of his life in his home at Ratnagiri, remarkable deeds of grim valour and cruel carnage were an every-day occurance in distant Delhi. The red fury of inflamed soldiery that had set the whole country ablaze must have borne its flues and sparks to the birth-place of our hero, at least in the form of a wonderful crop of rumours. It is inconceivable that the green memory of these things should have failed to impress the imagination of a child whose whole life was a dedication to the service of the Motherland.
What little is known of Bal's mother shows that she was a kind-hearted and an intensely religious woman. His father was one of those gems "of purest ray serene" that for want of favourable opportunities lie concealed in the deep "caverns of the ocean." Born in August 1820, he had passed the early years of his boyhood in dreaming dreams of learning and high social position and had, after finishing his vernacular course of instruction at Dabhol (Dist. Ratnagiri), walked over, in those days of difficult travelling to Poona. At a time when a boy learning English had every kind of encouragement given to him. Nana would surely have been able to complete his studies; but a domestic misfortune compelled him to bid good-bye to all his ambitions and rest content, as a school master, with the "splendid" salary of
