success.

complete independence of both the University and the Government. But this movement, at that time, had little prospect of widespread Government service is dear to the mind of Bengali students, and these National' schools would afford no avenue to it. When it was once realised that no practical steps were to be taken to penalise schools which became nurseries of violent agitation, the anti-British campaign rapidly spread and intensified. The Musalmans had from the outset steadfastly refused to take part in it; and their boys showed considerable moral courage in dissociating themselves from the behaviour of their Hindu school-fellows, and this, too, although they were greatly in the minority, for English-teaching schools have been much less attractive to Musalmans than to Hindus. The Musalmans consequently became involved in the odium which the agitation was casting upon British rule, and were bitterly attacked by the Hindus, especially as they were disposed actively to resent the rise in prices which was the outcome of the boycott of British commodities. Schoolmasters, yielding to pressure, permitted their Hindu students to organise themselves into definitely militant societies. School corps of so-called volunteers' were enrolled, given a uniform, drilled and exercised, and employed in the systematic enforcement of the boycott. Traders dealing in British goods were driven from the country markets by bands of school-boys. The Musalmans, having no other remedy, met force by force; and rioting ensued, which compelled the Government to draft bodies of special police into the districts, and placed it in the awkward position of punishing large numbers of loyal Musalmans because they resented the oppression of Hindu school-boys. It is unnecessary to explain how deplorable the situation was in the interests of the rising generation; school discipline vanished, and class-rooms were deserted for the bazaar. Anarchism became a subject of instruction, and boys were systematically taught to handle the weapons of assassination. It is known that the attempted murderers of Mr. Allen were mere striplings. Youths made and threw the bombs which recently killed two English ladies at Muzaffarpur, and boys of sixteen and seventeen formed, apparently, most of the staff of the Garden of Anarchy-a secret factory of explosives-which has since been discovered in Calcutta.

It does not necessarily follow that these incidents had their origin in any real or deep-seated grievance. Boys will be boys. Imagine what would be the results in this country if lads of fifteen or sixteen were permitted daily to listen to incendiary speeches in the market-place, to read, in school and out of school, newspapers inciting them to disorder, to organise themselves into semi-disciplined bands of political guerillas, to interfere actively with the trade of their towns! Should we be surprised if lamps and shop windows were broken, the local police held up, and school life became altogether demoralised? It may be objected that these Bengali 'volunteers' were

drawn as much from colleges as from schools, and that active interference in militant politics is less grotesque in a University student than in a school-boy. But it must be remembered that in India college life begins at a much earlier age than in England; students commonly enter college at sixteen, and the Indian college compares much more nearly with the English secondary school than its English nominal equivalent. Moreover, the Indian youth is far more excitable than the English youth: as he is capable in some ways of higher efforts of self-denial, so he suffers more intensely from evil influences. The vision splendid' of youth is in the East unobscured by the passion for athletics, the material ambitions of the English lad. The Indian parent is extraordinarily indulgent, and parental control, as a social force, is almost non-existent. The dreams which overshadow the pubescence of the Indian youth are hallowed by no idealistic admiration of the other sex: there is for him no flirtation, and no idyllic love-making; for him, outside the family circle, woman appears as Venus Pandemos only. As such her influence is exceedingly potent and exceedingly injurious. It is impossible in addressing the general reader to picture it in its actual colours; it must suffice to say that houses of ill-fame congregate closely round college and school boarding-houses, and the brothel is almost as marked a feature of student life as the class-room. Indeed, students not uncommonly lodge in prostitutes' houses. One of the leading Calcutta Bengali newspapers, in giving an account of some school-boy political demonstrations, stated, with apparent satisfaction, that the boys had been escorted in procession by the women of the town. It may be urged that student life on the Continent is also free from the restraint which Puritanism has impressed upon English youth. But the arrangements of Paris or Heidelberg have at least a flavour of domesticity, and represent some restraint upon the lawlessness of youth.

This is a distressing picture of indiscipline and immorality, with a sad foreboding for the next generation. Are these the inevitable consequences of our educational policy-the natural fruits of the grafting of English literature and science upon the Oriental disposition? We may take courage to doubt this. There are colleges and schools which have resisted infection, even in Bengal. For many years past the Government has failed to appreciate the immense importance of its responsibilities to the young, and has made. no sufficient attempt to cope with the difficulties that have arisen from the increasing desire for English learning. From the day on which a qualification in English was adopted as a condition for appointment to the public service, schools and colleges have sprung up in Bengal with mushroom rapidity. Fees are very low, and the teaching staff is usually ill paid. In these circumstances it was essential to maintain a strong inspecting staff, and to strengthen the hands of the masters by the severe repression of gross disorder. It cannot be said that

either of these conditions has been fulfilled. The inspection of colleges and schools has been little more than nominal; and to avoid a storm in the press, grave-even criminal-misbehaviour has been passed over in silence. The students of one school, having a grudge against a ferryman, threw him into the river and prevented him from landing till he was drowned. No evidence could be produced against individuals, and no penalty marked abhorrence of the crime. Good feelings, it may be said, are not born of discipline. Not so; 'manners makyth man,' and respectful habits generate a respectful mind. But, it may be objected, if the surroundings of English University life do not control the rebellious imaginings of Indian students, surely no hope can be gathered from the Education Department of the Indian Government. But we are concerned with students younger than those who enter Oxford or Cambridge, not emancipated from home influences (which must after all be on the side of orderliness) and more amenable to discipline. In insisting upon discipline we have on our side the wisdom of the East, which if it leaves the relation of father and son to be based upon affection, insists, and has always insisted, upon the strict subordination of the pupil to the teacher, of the chela to the guru. Control should not be condemned till it has been fairly tried. The Education Department should be one of the most important branches-if, indeed, not the most important branch -of the public service, and should be strengthened until it can meet its duties. Under existing arrangements young Englishmen are appointed to the Department direct from college, and enter upon their duties as inspectors or professors in complete ignorance of the language, the history, the customs, and the sentiments of the people whose growth is entrusted to their control. Such an arrangement may almost be described as an insult to the country; and a special course of training should most certainly precede the first appointment of an Englishman to the Educational service. But I do not, of course, mean to imply that the superior staff should be exclusively recruited in England. In my experience Bengali inspectors of schools have shown courage and determination when Government support is not denied them; and I may pay a passing tribute here to Bengali magistrates, who in a situation of immense difficulty have, with rare exceptions, been displaying remarkable fortitude of purpose. But let it be realised above all things that no action we can take to improve the morale of Indian students has any hope of success so long as we permit their minds to be poisoned by the suggestions and exhortations of an unbridled press. The more seditious of the Indian newspapers are written in the main for juvenile readers, to whom they appeal not only by the violence of their language, but by the pruriency of their advertisements, which are of a character that would be permitted in no English newspaper. Surely the most strenuous advocate

of the liberty of the press-one that will not hesitate to affirm that what suits England must suit India also-will admit that the situation is changed if it can be shown that the press caters for the class-room as well as for the market-place, and is a forceful power in the training of the young? It is difficult indeed to appreciate the position of those who, in their own country, would check the sale of intoxicating liquors to adults, but in India would permit the distribution of infinitely more harmful stimulants to children. There is no one who is well acquainted with India and wishes her well, but has rejoiced at the expression by Lord Minto of an earnest wish that the press in India may be subjected to some general control, and who does not join him in the hope that so beneficent a measure may not be defeated by the opposition of those who care more for the maintenance of so-called liberal principles than for the welfare of thousands of Indian students.

Now, it will be said, enough of discipline and control; what of reform? Granting that the present ferment is working most powerfully in schools and colleges, does it not represent some real grievance which it is our business to remove? Has not our gift of English learning brought with it aspirations which we are bound to notice and to fulfil? We are most certainly responsible for the growth of a desire for a larger share in the government of the country, and we should most certainly meet this desire, gradually adding to the opportunities of the people in the superior service of the State, and in the Council chamber. But it is a mistake to conceive that the study of European literature and science generates in the East a burning desire for a vote, for some form of representative government. We are so enamoured of the authority of Parliament, of recent date though it be, that we are inclined to believe that government by voting appeals to one of the most general, the most deep-seated, of human sentiments. But there are nations on the Continent that are better educated than India can hope to be for some generations to come which make shift, pretty contentedly and in much prosperity, with a very moderate allowance of political freedom. In the nature of things there is no reason why India should be fevered by a longing for representative government, nor are there any reliable symptoms of such an affection. There is in the East little of the spirit of compromise which renders government by a majority endurable. The Musalmans are definitely opposed to any experiment in this direction; so also are many other sections of the community who would be permanently out-voted. It is most significant that we should hear nothing whatever of liberal aspirations in the native states which include one-third of the Indian continent. They also have their schools, colleges, and an educated public, which accept without question monarchical authority. The cries which are raised on our side of the border for elected councils,

a colonial constitution, and so forth are the expression not of definite ambitions, but of that vague feeling of dislike with which all humanity regards an alien rule. We are so convinced of the material benefits which our intervention has secured to the people of India that we resent can indeed hardly realise the idea that we can appear in any light but that of benefactors. Yet our domination in India runs counter to one of the fundamental sentiments of human nature, which, while deferring to such practical considerations as self-interest, will permanently yield only to custom and habitude. We brought relief from gross oppression, and were welcomed on our arrival ; the memory of the oppression fades, but the figure of the English official becomes gradually accepted as of the order of nature. The triumph of Asia, in the victories of Japan, fiercely disturbed this settlement of ideas; and it is a curious proof of our lack of imagination that the effect of Mukden, Port Arthur, and Tsu-Shima has been so scantily realised. Under the reflection of these glories India burned to assert herself. An occasion was offered by the reform of the Universities and the partition of Bengal, since, although both these measures were really advantageous to the country and were conceived by Lord Curzon in a spirit of benevolence, both were injurious to vested interests which could command the sympathy of the press. The press with its bodyguard of lawyers put forth the whole of its power, and all the resources of political agitation were called to hand. It was soon found that (save in one area and for a particular reason) the adult population was hard to move. The benefits of British rule are, after all, substantial and undeniable, and as prosperity increases and capital accumulates the country becomes more and more apprehensive of the effects of a cataclysm. Further, and this is a point of great importance, there is no scheme, alternative to British rule, to which the ordinary citizen would for a moment trust himself. The Nationalist party has shrunk from describing a native form of government for adoption in a British province, unless it be, generally, that men of education should take the loaves and fishes, and that the British army should secure their enjoyment of them. Such a claim as that Bengal should be granted a constitution on colonial lines conveys little to the Bengali householder beyond a vague idea of bitter quarrelling, terminated by an invasion from, say, Nepal. In the minds of grown men hostility to British rule is not sufficiently pronounced to induce them to accept the doubtful chances of revolution; accordingly they take but little part in the manifestations of unrest, and leave politics to their boys, not, as I have said, without some pride in the youngsters' exploits, but with an uncomfortable feeling that studies are being neglected, and habits of discourtesy acquired which render their sons' home-coming a very irritating experience. In these circumstances our policy should be to sit tight, do justice, and strictly maintain