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and

That for single young men is kept hot through the year.

Where's the use of your marryin'? off wid you there!

cidedly the best of the argument: And then he replies, having de

But there's also a spot not so pleasantly warmed,

Set aside for ould maids, if I'm rightly informed,

Where some mornin' if still she can't make up her mind,

A misfortunate colleen, called Kathleen, you'll find.

The horrible insinuation that she may after all die an old maid, brings the recalcitrant coquette to her senses, and eventually the matter is happily arranged by a promise on her part to be married in spring. We must confess to a predilection for these songs, which are both natural and charming. It is impossible to read them in a dull moment without having the incubus of care removed from the mind, and even such a temporary relief is worth purchasing. No hour could be more pleasantly spent than in perusing these effusions. Let us listen in it like that of the merry twinkto another song, which has a ring ling feet in a dance :

Show me a sight,
Bates for delight

at it.

O! No!

Of course Nora is not dead; we are speedily treated to a description of her marriage with Patrick. Altogether, the poem is redolent of the true Irish spirit: we are introduced not only to the brogue, but to the inhabitants of the Emerald An ould Irish wheel wid a young Irish girl Isle themselves, for the author has successfully individualised the various characters to whom he introduces us. 'Fixin' the Day' is a humorous ditty where a swain has some difficulty in persuading his beloved to make him happy by naming the period of felicity. At first he assigns as a reason that winter is the best time for marrying, to comfort oneself from the frost and the rain, to which she responds :

If it's only protection you want from the
cowld,

There's a parish that's called the Equator,
I'm tould,

Aquals her sittin' an' takin' a twirl at it.
Nothin' you'll show,

Look at her there,
Night in her hair-
The blue ray of day from her eye laughin'

out on us!

Faix, an' a foot,
Perfect of cut,
Peepin' to put an end to all doubt in us.
That there's a sight,
Bates for delight

An ould Irish wheel wid a young Irish girl
at it;

O! No!

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Occasionally the author repeats his imagery, as in two of the songs where he compares the feet of two of his heroines to swallows skimming the skirts of a cloud. The nature of his subjects, however, forbids his attempting to deal with sublime figures: the homely and sweet suit much better the style of his compositions, and it is in the manipulation of these that he must seek his success. Amongst other poems to be mentioned in the first part of the volume for their ingenuity of conception and skilful treatment, are 'The Invention of Wine' and the 'Fairy Pig,' which hint at the possession of a humour that will one day repay for culti vation. In another style is the poem of The Foster Sisters,' which, in conception and concentration, reminds us much of some of Tennyson's minor pieces. One sister tells the melancholy story of the other

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For you trusted his love,
As simply confidin',
His honour and pride in,
As in heaven above;

And you married, mavrone,
Lord Arthur, Lord Arthur;
Thou now, ologone,
In your grave you'd be rather
Than his wife, Lady Alice!

So that though I had once

A foolish ambition

For your noble condition,
Like a foolish young dunce,
Had I known as I do,
What then was preparin'
For me and for you,

That wish I'd been spairin',
My poor Lady Alice.

And instead, then, for you

Half my hopes I'd forsaken-
Half your troubles I'd taken-
If only, aroo,

Through that you'd been born
Wid me in our shealin',
Safe away from his scorn
And black bitter feelin',
My poor Lady Alice!

So much for the first part of the volume. When we come to the second, the praise we have to bestow must be somewhat more stinted. There is still the same facility in rhyming, and much of the old musical power, but we fail to be moved as we were hitherto, and therefore the poet must accept the onus of not having achieved a complete success. But, in the first place, some of the subjects he has chosen are as old as poetry itself. The first singer of the world must surely have been charmed with the beauties of Spring, and, from that time to the present, it has formed a favourite theme for all those who

are lovers of Nature, and who strive to interpret her in her various moods. In his 'Spring's Summons' Mr. Graves has not done worse, if he has not done much better, than many of our well-known poets. He has a little hampered himself, perhaps, with a metre-or, rather, a variety of metres-which may not be exactly his forte, and the stock in-trade requisite for anyone describing the early part of the year, and consisting of lambs and thrushes, laburnums, hawthorns, zephyrs, &c., &c., is drawn upon to a considerable extent. The materials, however, are well handled, and the general effect of the exordium supposed to be addressed to the reader by Spring is by no means unpleasing. Some portions, in fact, are quite original, and if there must be padding in a volume of poemsand we suppose that a work of any magnitude could not be produced without a little-we would rather it were of this description than of any other. There is one great hope for our author, apparent even in those stanzas of his which do not most fairly represent the strength of his gift, viz., that he has the true worship of beauty. Let him cultivate that more and more. A poet should never be allured by anything into a departure from that love. It will be more to him than all the other sustenance of the poetic nature which he can take, and by the aid of that alone can he hope to rise to a position of commanding eminence in his career. False notions in art and in poetry are but too prevalent. Let the students of both adhere to what is true, and they will be safe, whatever comes. Poetry is essentially the representation of the highest truth. It goes deeper, rises higher, than anything else of which we have any cognisance. What besides it has the power thus to touch the very springs of the human heart?

And if this be so, surely the least which its devotees can do, is to be true to themselves, true to their calling, true to all that with which they are called upon to deal, in behalf of others who have not an equal facility in reading the language of the silent voices of the universe. But Nature must be wooed. She will not inspire the being who expects to extract her secrets while sitting in the study through the long gaslit hours. She must be waited upon like a coy maiden, and diligently sought after: then perhaps she may unfold to her ardent disciple those things which he desires, and teach him how to be her interpreter to the vast mass of mankind. It

may be objected by some that Mr. Graves does not deal with great subjects. This, on the contrary, is matter for congratula tion. His characteristic is sweetness rather than strength, and we shall be quite as grateful to receive the former as the latter. There may not be much substance in his verses; but there is the quality which many so-called poets seem to despise-Melody. We can do with a few teachers who will bring us back to a recollection of some of the chief attributes of the Poet, and thank Mr. Graves for performing the part of one of these. Song itself, in its best sense, seems to be almost dying out amongst us. It is a reproach upon our civilisation: the refining and humanising pleasures and gifts are being bartered for material success; and wherever we discover even an attempt at reaction in this respect it should be fostered. With the conviction that by his little volume the writer of The Songs of Killarney is to be classed (if even in a humble measure) amongst these renovators, we now part from him with the desire of finding his talents ripened when next we meet with him.

GEORGE BARNETT SMITH.

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THE FUNCTIONS OF GOVERNMENT IN INDIA.

is considered a subject of general congratulation just now that there is in England a growing knowledge of Indian affairs, and that English public opinion is brought to bear more than formerly on Indian subjects. If our increasing interest in India were based on anything like an accurate knowledge of our Eastern possessions and their various peoples, if it enabled us to justly estimate the magnitude and difficulties of our task, if it taught us to appreciate the vast difference between government in England and in India, there might be reason to rejoice. If we are to judge by present tendencies, increased communication with England has not had these results.

In governing alien races, we English lack one grand quality, which, for want of a better word, we must call imagination. We certainly are not an imaginative

race.

We make rather a boast of this. We deprecate all flights of fancy. We despise sentiment. We like, above all things, to be called practical. This lack of imagination is the cause of the unsympathetic manner in which we govern subject races. We are cursed with an inherent incapacity to understand their feelings or sympathise with their aspirations. This defect has been one of the chief causes of our ill-success in Ireland, and is but too palpable in our system of government in India. The intense conviction prevalent among all classes of English, that the best gift they can bestow on all countries under their sway is English institutions, proceeds from the same national deficiency. It is simply loss of time arguing with the average Englishman that countries may be happy, prosperous, and contented without trial by jury, municipal in

stitutions, or parliamentary government. His belief in these is a national faith too deeply rooted to be shaken by such accidents as difference of race, clime, or character.

The ordinary Englishman in India may be taken as a fair type of the nation, and he is worthy of serious study. In his want of interest in and ignorance of Indian subjects, in his want of sympathy with the people and their pursuits, in his unintentional disregard for their feelings, in his contempt for their weaknesses, in his ignorance of their histories and traditions, in his intense conviction that everything English must be good, everything Oriental bad, in his mania for introducing English customs, English habits, and English institutions without the slightest regard for differences of national characteristics, in his domineering tone and arrogant self-confidence, he is a true representative of his country. On the other hand, it is his confidence in himself, his indomitable courage both moral and physical, his strict though narrow sense of justice, his dogged perseverance, steady in dustry, and untiring energy, that have won and kept the country. We have done great things in India. We have conquered all resistance. Throughout our Indian dominions law and order reign supreme. Our energy has pierced them with the railway, and girdled them with the telegraph. Splendid roads, magnificent bridges, and stately buildings bear testimony to our material success as rulers; but the qualities which have achieved these undeniably great results have not been successful in the still more subtle and delicate task of assimilating the subject races, of winning their affection and confidence, ruling them in accordance with their feelings and customs, evoking their gratitude

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and sympathies, or in bridging the political and social gulf which lies between us and them. Perhaps it would be correct to say that the very qualities which render us irresistible as conquerors, render us unable to assimilate the races we subdue with ourselves. There is something stern and hard in the English nature, before which Oriental nations crumble away and lose all cohesion. And this very hardness prevents any assimilation afterwards. Fortunately we point to our most successful Indian servants as a proof that there are many and brilliant exceptions to this lack of imagination which we have described as a national defect. All the Englishmen who have acquired great influence over Asiatics, who have commanded them successfully in great enterprises, who have brought out all their best qualities — their fidelity, courage, and endurance—have been men who thoroughly understood them, knew their virtues and their failings, entered into their feelings, sympathised with their aspirations, and made allowance for their prejudices.

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The growing interest in Indian affairs dates from the Mutiny. Before that time India was a very distant country indeed, and our notions regarding it were extremely vague and indefinite. The government was in the hands of a Company who managed it pretty much as they pleased. The Mutiny let in a flood of light. Ever since, we have been governing the country more in accordance with English ideas, and more under the surveillance of English public opinion. What are those ideas? To develop the material resources of the country, and to introduce English institutions as much as possible. Whatever other faults the future historian may accuse us of, certainly he cannot say that we have been indolent or dilatory. Within the fifteen years

that have elapsed since the Mutiny we have introduced reforms and improvements at railroad pace. English education, trial by jury, a free press, and municipalities, have all been inaugurated in that short time. We have been induced to act thus from the conviction, which is so strong among us that it almost amounts to a mania, that because these are English institutions, and have conduced to make England great and prosperous, therefore they must inevitably have the same effect in India. We altogether ignore the different conditions; we overlook the fact that if such institutions thrive among us and suit us, they do so by what may be called the law of natural selection, or the survival of the fittest, if such terms can be applied to politics. They did not come to us ready-made and complete, but proceeded and grew from small beginnings to meet certain wants and requirements; they struggled into existence amidst the wars of classes; they were wrested bit by bit from their rulers by the people, not given as a free gift. They grew upwards and have their roots in the hearts of the masses, they did not come by order from above. In introducing them into India all the conditions of success are wanting. There is no lesson which history teaches more plainly than this-that reforms imposed upon a people in the way indicated above do not last; they do i not meet any recognised wants or wishes of the people; they only last as long as they are supported from above, they have no substantial foundation. The object of our Indian rulers and reformers is to educate the people in self-government, and to create what they greatly desiderate-a public opinion; a very laudable ambition, but one infinitely more likely to be retarded than advanced by premature attempts. It is a moot question whether our Asiatic fellow-subjects will ever be suited

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