Lord Elphinstone, one of the members of the Committee asked Wilson,—
"7237. Was it not the fact that what Lord William Bentinck recommended was not the introduction of English to supersede the vernacular languages, but only the employment of English as a medium of education, instead of the Persian and the Sanskrit?"
Wilson, in reply said,—
"No, there was no qualification in regard to the vernacular languages; the order begins with this sentence, 'It is the opinion of the Governor-General that all funds which are available for the purposes of education should be applied to the cultivation of English alone.'" * * * *
THE HUNGRY STONES
A short story
From the Bengali of Rabindranath Tagore.
MY relation and myself were returning to Calcutta from our Pujah trip when we met the gentleman in a train. From his dress and deportment we mistook him at first for an upcountry Mahomedan, but we felt more puzzled as we heard him talk. He went on discoursing on all conceivable subjects in a manner so confident that one would almost think that the Disposer of all things consulted him on all occasions in all that He did. That such secret and unheard of forces were actually working within, that the Russians had advanced so close to us, that the English had deep and secret policies, that confusion among the native chiefs had come to such a head, we had not the remotest idea, and were heretofore perfectly at ease. But our newly acquired friend said with a sly smile, "There happen more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are reported in your newspapers." As we had never stirred out of our homes before, the whole demeanour of the man simply struck us dumb with wonder. Be the topic ever so trivial, the man would now quote science, now comment on the Vedas, now repeat quatrains from some Persian poet, and as we had no pretensions to a knowledge of either science or the Vedas or Persian, our admiration for him went on increasing, and my theosophist relation was even firmly convinced that our fellow-passenger must have had some connection with something supernatural, some strange "magnetism" or "occult power" or "astral body" or something of that kind. He was listening to even the tritest remark that fell from the lips of that extraordinary mortal almost with devotional raptures and secretly taking down notes of his conversation. I fancy that the extraordinary man perceived it and was a little pleased with it.
When the train reached the junction, we all assembled in the waiting-room for the next corresponding train. It was then 10 p. m., and as the train, we heard, was likely to be very late owing to something wrong in the lines I spread my bed on the table and was about to lie down for a comfortable doze, when that extraordinary person deliberately set about spinning the following yarn. Of course, I could get no sleep that night.
When owing to a disagreement respecting some questions of administrative policy I threw up my appointment at Junagarh and entered the service of the Nizam of Hyderabad, as a hardy young man they appointed me at once as the collector of cotton duties at Barich.
Barich is a very lovely place. The Susta (Sans. Swachchha-toya) 'chatters over strony ways and babbles on the pebbles' tripping, like a skilled dancing girl, along her meandering course through the woods below the lonely hills. Right on the river's brim above a flight of 150 steps rising from the river stands at the foot of the hills a lonesome marble palace. Around it there is no habitation of man—the village and the cotton mart of Barich being far off.
About 250 years ago the Emperor Mahmud Shah II had built this palace for his pleasure and luxury on this lonely spot. In those days jets of rose-water would spurt out from
