the abnormal conditions and excrescences of the present time, and bases upon that brilliant period Asia's claim to the position of mother and teacher of mankind, to whose instruction Europe of to-day owes her power and supremacy. He asserts that in the happy past women were thoroughly educated, that the sex was not subjected to masculine tyranny, indeed that under the Kshatrais women chose their husbands; and we shall not now stop to consider how far these statements correspond with reality. It is enough that our Indian testifier discerns that the interruption of this condition of culture, and the deviation from the path of these apparently better customs of the old time, have hastened the decline of the Asiatic world and the triumph of the Occident. The Thakore is of the opinion that the English are the most advanced nation in the world, their American cousins perhaps excepted. He says: "Perseverance, enterprise, energy, and industry are the cardinal features of Englishmen. No one is satisfied with his lot. All are goaded by ambition to rise higher. Activity prevails everywhere. There is a grand intellectual race, and everyone tries to outrun the other." He unhesitatingly recommends the imitation of these virtues. He sees that in Europe every man endeavours to earn a livelihood by honest work, and how seldom men there give themselves up to idleness; how the Western people strengthen their bodies and cultivate endurance; and how all minds are exercised to make discoveries and find out means by which the labour of mankind may be lightened, and comfort in life increased. In view of this ceaseless stream of endeavour and effort he sees himself compelled to this confession regarding his own people: "My countrymen are accustomed to think less of the present life and more of the life to come, in which they have an unshaken belief, and hence it is that they are not progressive in the modern sense of the word. The Europeans are worldly and political, the Hindus are more retired and religious." These words say more than whole volumes of speculation on the history of civilisation, and, to speak plainly, I have not yet met a single Oriental who, in drawing comparisions between Eastern and Western culture, has been so candid, frank, and free of prejudice as the Thakore Sahib of Jondal.

The wonderful light diffused throughout India-that centre of Asiatic prejudice-by English culture, and the frequent visits of Hindus to Europe, have together brought out many other expressions of opinion regarding our civilisation. We cannot here go into individual comments, and we shall consider only the remarks of Dr. Bhandarkar, a

learned Pundit, who visited Europe on the occasion of the Oriental Congress in Vienna, and described our world to his countrymen on his return home. Dr. Bhandarkar, a profound Sanskrit scholar, is especially struck, among other things, with the interest and learning of our specialists in the ancient language and literature of his own people. He finds that the great idea of Panadelphism (brotherhood of mankind) is much nearer realisation in Europe than in Asia, and especially India, where distinctions of race, religion, and customs are much more sharply defined, and the peaceful social life so necessary to progress is rendered distinctly more difficult. Besides this he sees the value of free institutions, for on being shown the Tower of London with its horrors he said, "You English are indeed a wonderful people. Three hundred years ago you were subject to princes as tyrannical and despotic as ours, and while in the struggle for freedom you have gained your cause gradually and without bloodshed, we have not been able in twenty-five centuries to free ourselves from the fetters of slaves." He considers that India will not for a long time attain to that degree of earnestness, patriotism, sense of duty, and self-abnegation necessary to progress, to which alone he ascribes the success of the West.

In order to make our sketch of Asiatic criticism upon European culture as complete as possible, we must not omit to speak of those Asiatics who, boasting a very low degree of culture, have recently come under Russian sway, and, now acquainted with the Russian aspect of Western civilisation, have expressed their opinion thereon. These neophytes in modern culture have only had a glimpse of the intellectual struggle of the nineteenth century; still, as, in most cases, they were not by any means advanced in the real culture of Asia, they are now strongly influenced by even the faint and sometimes distorted reflection of our intellectual acquirements presented to them. It is indeed in the highest degree characteristic that, while wholly or partly Europeanised Ottomans, Arabs, Persians, Hindus, Chinese, or Japanese have extremely rarely, if ever, gone over bag and baggage into the opposite camp that is to say, given up their nationality and blended themselves with the Christian world-the Asiatics brought up under Russian teaching have very frequently become thorough Russians. This transformation is no doubt to be ascribed in the first place to the slightness of the difference between Russian and Asiatic views of the world at large; and in the second place must be considered the great influence, arising out of this relation between them, which the Russian Empire can, and does,

exercise upon the Asiatic world. Among Hindus and Japanese, where Western influence has been at its strongest, it is only very seldom that a Nawab, Babu, Mulwie, or Daimo has become Anglicised or Americanised, while Kirgis, Mongols, Lezghian, and Tartars have become members of the Russian Empire remarkably easily, and soon afterwards created a half-Asiatic society.

Very little information is available regarding the impression made upon the nature of these intractable Asiatics by their first contact with the orderly life of the West and the intellectual achievements of the nineteenth century, for no diaries, journals of travel, or other notes have been left. So far, I have met with only a few faint indications, and among these I shall first quote from a private document addressed to me by a Kirgis of European education, who has already distinguished himself in literature. This man, a true son of the Steppes, received his education in the Military School at St. Petersburg, and was, therefore, while still a young man, introduced to the God of War in the halls of European learning. The science of murder, robbery, and devastation, inseparable appendages of Russian warfare in Asia, was, strangely enough, not particularly pleasing to the former Kirgis, for he retired into private life, and devoted his time exclusively to the study of European languages and sciences. These exercised an irresistible influence upon this man; he became absorbed in the works of Darwin, Herbert Spencer, and Schopenhauer, and no more characteristic proof of their effect could be given than when the former Kirgis writes: "I hope the time is not far distant when mankind all over the earth will be united in the bonds of brotherhood, and live happily in the enjoyment of liberty!"

In summing up our slight knowledge of Asiatic criticism upon Western civilisation, the assertion made in the opening words of this article becomes evident-that Asiatic curiosity regarding us is in no case proportionate to the effect produced in the Eastern world by our former and present experiments in culture. Secondly, it will be seen that what criticism we have is characterised by shyness or reticence; that is, even when the brilliance of the bright side of our culture is recognised, the Asiatic does not approach the subject with that admiration, indeed enthusiasm, with which we Europeans regard certain single epochs of culture in the past history of Asia, although these bear to the radiance of the nineteenth century the same proportion as does the glimmering of a little star to the full glory of sunlight Thirdly, that even those Asiatics who are convinced of the superiority of our culture

always speak of a modernisation of the old-world conditions of their own countries, never of the unqualified adoption of those institutions and innovations which form the real basis of our greatness, power, and prosperity. Such a proceeding, in fact, would not tend to the success of the reforms aimed at, for modification and adaptation of foreign customs is strictly enforced by territorial, climatic, religious, and social conditions, and is indeed unavoidable. But the scale is turned for the Asiatic much more by a natural reserve or shyness than by any sense of utility. He is brought face to face with a new view of things repugnant alike to his tastes and the deepest emotions of his nature, and must overcome prejudices imbibed with his mother's milk, which remain with him all through life in the form of ethical and religious principles. So long, then, as our Asiatic finds himself in the immediate neighbourhood of our world, and under the influence of our restless life, giddy with the ceaseless struggle, and drawn into the magic circle, he cannot resist the influence without great difficulty, and is occasionally metamorphosed into an European. But hardly has he trod the soil of Asia, the ancient mother of the world, and settled among his own people, than the memories of the West fade and vanish like mist in the distance; the last vestiges have not quite disappeared before our neophyte has relapsed into Asiatic thoughts and habits; yea, more, he looks back with sorrow and regret upon the jugglery that bewitched him in the lands of the West, and clings all the more closely to the effete civilisation of his own country.

A VAMBERY.

HOW TO POPULARISE A FREE LIBRARY.

T is doubtless considered by the public, and possibly by some librarians of the rest-and-be-thankful sort, that the many papers which have been written, and the discussions to which they have given rise, have well-nigh threshed out and exhausted all that can be said on the subject of librarianship; so that to write or say anything more upon it seems like a work of supererogation and a waste of time. The contemplation of this finality, were it true, could not fail to be a source of gratification. To have arrived at the ne plus ultra of our many-sided duties, to feel that there is nothing further to overcome, and that we have attained the goal perfection, would be, at least to some of us who have begun to grow grey in library service, a pleasing reflection. But it has to be confessed that the last word has not been said on probably any part of our work.

It is, therefore, because of this absence of perfection and finality that I venture to contribute a few practical suggestions, based upon my own long experience, with a view of furthering the good work on which most of us centre our thoughts and anxieties. I take it that this good work is mainly that of making our respective libraries attractive and appreciated by the communities which surround them. It will not be denied, I think, that most, if not all, public institutions, however useful and intrinsically good they are in their objects, may, from want of energy and earnestness in their management, and through want of adaptation to the spirit of the time, fall seriously short of the success which they should have achieved. Hence the importance of placing real living souls, not merely animated bodies, in charge of such institutions.

To be more specific in the illustration: who will doubt the importance of all governing bodies of public libraries endeavouring, with all the care and circumspection they can exercise, to place over these institutions (which are destined, I believe, to be regarded with greater public