but let me summarise the whole in their simple and logical sequence.
- Our education is scanty.
- There is a direct relation between extensive education and research of a high order.
- Extension of education is necessary.
- Impediments to our education.
- Poverty.
- Remedies of poverty.
- Regeneration of agriculture and industry necessary.
- The contributions of science to industry and the urgent necessity of carrying on original research with that end in view.
I shall conclude with the remarks of J. Sterling in his 'Essays on thoughts.'
"A man with knowledge, but without energy and application, is a house furnished but not inhabited; a man with energy but no knowledge, a house dwelt in but unfurnished."
EYESORE
By Rabindranath Tagore.
XXXIV
VIHARI had so long been steadily going through his course at the Medical College. He suddenly left just before the examination came on. To those who expressed surprise he said: "Other peoples' ailments can wait, I’ve got to look after my own health first."
Vihari had neither thirst for fame, nor greed for riches, nor even the necessity to earn a living. But his energy was boundless, and he had to be doing something or other. After graduating in the Arts course he joined the Sibpur College of Engineering. After he had satisfied his curiosity as to that science and acquired sufficient skill with his hands, he changed into the Medical College. Mahendra had joined the Medical College the year previous immediately after getting his Arts degree.
The friendship of these two was a bye word in the college. They were called the Siamese twins. Since Mahendra's failure last year the friends had been in the same class, and it was a mystery to their fellow-students why at this stage there should have been a rupture. Vihari could not bring himself to meet Mahendra every day, and yet not be able to meet him in the old way. So while everybody was expecting Vihari to pass with flying colours, it happened that his examination did not come off at all.
In a little room, next door to Vihari, there was a poor Brahmin, Rajendra, who made a living as a compositor on twelve rupees a month. "Let your boy stay with me," said Vihari to him, "I'll educate him." The Brahmin was only too happy and made over his eight-year old son, Basanta, to Vihari.
Vihari began to train Basanta in a way of his own. "I won't let him touch a book till he is ten" he said. He would spend his days playing with him, taking him to the Maidan,[1] to the Museum, to the Zoological and Botanical gardens; and what with telling him stories from History, teaching him English conversationally, and trying to find out his special gifts and aptitudes, Vihari left himself no time for anything else.
That evening it was too wet to go out. The rain had stopped for a time during the day and had come on again since the afternoon. Vihari was in his sitting room engaged in devising instructive games for Basanta's benefit, when his up-country servant burst in upon them with: "Sir, there's a sort of woman—" Before he could finish Binodini had entered the room.
"What's this, Sister Binod!" exclaimed Vihari taken entirely by surprise.
"Haven't you any women relatives staying with you here."
Vihari.—"Neither relatives nor otherwise. I have an aunt but she's at my home in the country."
- ↑ The green fields adjoining the Calcutta Fort.
