A DIALOGUE.

σε χρῶ τη φυσεῖ.”

Video meliora proboque-deteriora sequor.

"READING MAN."-A.

"WELL-READ MAN."-B.

A.-I wish I were a "well-read man," like you. My life has been spent in cramming my brain with knowledge that, for aught other people care, may remain there; while every one is anxious to draw you out, to catch the outpourings of your mind; and when you are drawn out,when your intellect is on the qui vive, how it seems to revel in its own greatness. You conjure up scenes interesting to all, quote sentiments intelligible to all, conceive ideas delightful to all; while I stand by like a dummy, with mock gravity, and try to cloke my ignorance with "Yes," " No,” “I should think so." You draw at will from a neverfailing fund of information; you turn from poetry to prose, from fiction to fact. In short, you are a "well-read man," and know everything; I am a "reading-man," and know nothing.

B.-Perhaps I have read many books, but so have you; we have both read equally, only I have been occupied with one set of authors, you with another. My authors are for the most part English, which our companions can understand; yours are foreign or ancient which our companions understand but imperfectly. My knowledge is such as "the mass" does not possess; therefore "the mass" is willing to look with gaping admiration on it, and to give me credit for ten times as much as I really have. Your knowledge is such as most people possess to a certain extent. Hence they can estimate your powers exactly; they know the length of your tether. But is your knowledge any the less for its amount being accurately weighed? Believe me, our knowledge is like in degree, though unlike in kind. I have communed with modern poets, you have lived with the master-minds of yore. I have dabbled in the romantic part of science, you have been drilled in the harder discipline of mathematics; I am conversant with modern, you with ancient manners and politics.

A. Here then we stand, face to face, the pigmy representatives of the Ancient and Modern World! But then your mode of reading is so much better than mine. You take up a book for pleasure's sake, and enter into it with all the ardour of enjoyment,-whereas I come up to the scratch with my mind nerved for exertion. You love reading,-I from habit submit to it quietly. Can there be any doubt which of the two reads to the most purpose?

B. Yes, much,-Though perhaps, 1 do retain best what I acquire.

But then you acquire what is most solid in every subject, and I what is most showy. You string together the rerum causæ. I gather the rerum casus or anecdotes and incidents. History rises up before you as a connected whole, before me as―a Kaleidoscope, a patchwork, vividly coloured indeed, but gaudy and confused.

A. Well, granting that my performances are superior to yours in this respect; still there is one immense advantage on your side. Your line of study is original. I toil along an allotted course. You speed along a course which your own genius has marked out for you. Are not then your efforts of a higher class than mine? Is it not greater to lead than to follow?

B. Ah, but your having bound yourself to employments fixed by others, is no proof that you cannot find out some for yourelf, And then, which is the easier, to allow one's mind to centre itself in kindred occupations, or to throw it into occupations, perhaps unsuited, or to which at least it can only be habituated by time? Which is the easier, to glide down the stream, or to struggle against the adverse current?

A. What's the good of being buffeted for nothing? I had much rather glide downwards with you; and if this be not the wisest plan, what becomes of the old maxim, that, the greatest error is to "mistake one's calling," to waste our talents on that which they were never meant to perform.

B. Your proverb applies to "callings," and to nothing else. In the choice of a profession, indeed, to which our life is to be devoted, we must follow the bias of our own disposition. Not so in the pursuit of every minor occupation. Every one has, sooner or later, to play a part unsuited to him; to discharge some duty that goes against the grain. In youth, especially, you must turn your hands to many things that are distasteful or intractable, in order to give yourself a fair chance for calling forth your latent powers. And again, however much that maxim of yours may be true of the active powers, it cannot be true of the will. That must, by inward force, be drawn from some things, and bent towards others.

A. Well, after all, if success in life be our aim, what can all this discipline matter? Suppose a "man" does undertake that alone in which he can shine, still if he has talent, he may do as well in his profession as if bis spirit had never chafed against all this discipline.

B. What! do you think this spirit of his will not chafe against any of the varied duties of an arduous profession His field of action will be limited by one thing being "disgusting," another "degrading," and so on. Then, what if his success in life should be equally limited?

A. A wayward temper need not stick to a "man" for ever. You need not retain your early habits of mind; but mine can never be shaken

off. My mind has been stunted in its growth, and can never expand. Your mind has grown freely, and you have only to check its over-growth. What is crushed, can never be restored: but you have only to restrain the roving freedom of your mind, by adopting some of my methodical habits.

B. There! You all but hit upon the truth, in hinting at an union. Only you have put the cart before the horse. For you say, give full scope to liberty, and there will be time enough for restraint. But in this case self-command is lost, and may never be regained. No, no. To enjoy freedom, we must have first known restraint. Then, selfcommand has been acquired, and then we may give the rein to our natural impulses, because we can hold them back if necessary. You, then, a "reading man," are better off than I am. You have taken the first step, and are prepared to take the second. Whereas, I have taken the second step prematurely, and omitted the first. To be successful in life I must retrace my course, and begin afresh. I must fix my wavering will, and with stern purpose mould it according to prescribed rules. It will be lucky for me if I am able to do so.

LETTER FROM A SMALL-BOY.

MY DEAR Brother,

I don't

MANY thanks for your last letter and the Magazine. think much of your "Observer," its so very serious and dull-that was rather good, too, about that old bogy of a dragon. We've got one here now, not printed, you know, only written, and its read out on Saturday nights. One of the fellows sent in some Latin verses about Lydia-only our head boy found them out in Bland-so he was licked, instead of having them put in.

Oh! I got into such a row the other day. You remember a boy we called Fat Fletcher. I shewed him to you when you came to see us in the Spring. You know he's a fat greasy looking boy, with light hair and eyes something like my ferret's at home. Well he was going up with his Delectus to old Snuffy, so I wrote ass backwards with a bit of chalk on my hand, and I said hollo! Fatty, and slapped him on the back, so it came off on his jacket. Well, old Snuffy saw it, and he got into such a rage, that he swore he would flog the whole school round if he did not find out who it was that had done it; so he gave five minutes for the boy to deliver himself up. Well, you know, he'd been boxing Fletcher's ears for nearly four minutes I am sure, and I had not dared to speak, when Bill Spenser came up and told me he'd wait for me afterwards if I did not. So I gave myself

up, and got jolly well caned, and had to write ass out five hundred times; was'nt that a go?

Oh! but that Fletcher is such a fool. I crammed him so the other day about you fellows. I told him I had a brother who was going to India, and that he had to learn to charm snakes and swallow knives before he went, because people did those sort of things out there; and I said that your head boy's nails had grown through the back of his hand, which was an Eastern habit; and I declare Fatty believed every word of it.

Don't you recollect my showing you a little pale boy with curly hair, he'd just come when you were here; I thought he would turn out rather a slow, but really do you know, he's so good-natured, every body likes him. He's very cute and helps me with my verses sometimes: only he's such a delicate little thing, he's always in the sick-room, and last week the doctor told our usher he thought he would'nt live long; did you know I believe he knows it himself, because I said to him a day or two ago "I say, Percival, if you stop here two years longer you'll be head of the school;" but he shook his head, so I said "Why not, old fellow ?" and he smiled and answered " Boys will be laughing in this field, and leaves falling from these trees this autumn two years, but you and I may not be here." So I joked him, and told him that he was too serious, and he said he thought he was; bnt if he meant dying it was very shocking.

What do you think a chap said at lesson one day? We came to the chimera in the book, and he was asked what it was like, and he said it had a goat's head, and a lion's body, and the feet of a snake. Oh! there was such a laugh.

We're going to have regular fun on the fifth. The master says it shall be a much bigger bonfire this year, because, you know, about Maynooth. Will Spenser swears he'll put a squib into the Frenchmaster's pocket; fat lot of that I should say.-Well, good bye, your affectionate

W

MR. EDITOR,

NATIVE EDUCATION IN INDIA.

ANY subject affecting the relations between Great Britain and India must be of considerable interest to persons from whose number many go yearly, translated from their native land to regulate the affairs of that vast and peculiar region.

Participating in the anxiety, which we believe generally prevails, to know something of a country which we shall shortly help to govern, our attention has been drawn to the existing state of the Indian Peninsula,

particularly as regards a system of education at present advocated and warmly promoted by the East India Company. One fact with regard to this system is indisputable. It has been most successful in imparting a knowledge of literature and science, wherever it has been introduced. The colleges and schools established by the Company and by munificent individuals, native and European, are attended with alacrity by large bodies of the native youth. The different prizes and scholarships given as rewards for superior proficiency, have been incitements to study, the results of which are very surprising. Hence, indeed, as has been stated by a fellow-reasoner on this subject, we may draw an assurance, that the millions who inhabit the Company's territories, have equal thought and power of intellect with ourselves, and may become as capable of governing themselves, and of performing the duties of a legislative and executive government, as we Englishmen, who are by established authority, their rulers. The correspondent to whom I refer, asks "if it be politically wise to give the millions of India such high capabilities, by means of education, without supplying principles of subjection to the government, or establishing any permanent bond of union?" Surely the cause of education may be freed from the imputation of political folly! But, not to separate his objection to the educational system now in operation, from the principle on which that objection professedly stands, we will notice another passage, in which your correspondent asks, whether it is "moral wisdom to abolish the superstitious observances of the native religion, by refining the notions, elevating the feelings, and purifying the habits of a people in whom we do not implant the Christian creed?" We do not deny that education is to be sought as a means, not as an end: but does not education give knowledge, and is not knowledge power? Does not general education give national power; and is national impotency desirable?

The boundless influence resulting from our extended dominion, is a vast responsibility for which we shall have to answer. From far regions of the earth, the voice of suppliant nations, helpless as infants, seems to sweep across the sea, calling aloud to England for knowledge, till her tall cliffs re-echo the cry. Let us not refuse help to these distant people: their prosperity-the prosperity of millions-depends upon it. It is true that in the opened page of history we are unfolding to the natives of India the freedom of other states, and the slavery in which their nation has continued for ages. In doing this we are but forestalling the news-we are but teaching a large portion of the human race those rights which they must presently learn themselves. Is it politically wise to leave the Hindoos to form their notions on the writings of such men as Payne? We apprehend that it is well known that Payne's