home-sick.  His wish to come to England has been, gratified, but oh! for a sight of his own people and, his simple home.  He must drown this longing as best he may.  There are many ways of drowning it in London.  There are many who will assist him to forget what he had better never forget—­his village home.  But after all there are some English people who will know him.  He has found lodgings, and the landlady and her family make themselves most agreeable.  He knows no other English people.  He wants friendliness so far away from home, so these and theirs become his friends.

In London the majority of Indian students gain admission to the Inns of Court.  The new regulations, which come into force in January next, were intended to render admission more difficult to attain; but they will fail of their purpose, for success in the Oxford and Cambridge senior local examinations is a qualification for admission, and these examinations are held in various parts of India.  Students will in future avoid entering the Indian Universities, but will get private coaching, and sit for these examinations in India, with a view to gaining admission to one or other of the Inns.  It never seems to have occurred to the Honourable Societies of the Inns to take any steps to look after the well-being of these numberless students, who bring hundreds of pounds to their coffers every year.  So different is their position from that of the English student that their case merits special attention.  To look after them might be unusual, it would certainly be expedient.  The eating of a few dinners and attendance at certain lectures are no tax on the student’s time.  He puts off real study to the last moment.  It is so easy to learn all the subjects just before each examination.  With a few exceptions the English and Indian students do not speak to each other.  So the Inns do not provide the Indian with society.  A youth from the East, dwelling in a London lodging, finding himself for the first time in command of a banking account, with abundance of leisure, and no English friends of his own standing—­can he become a loyal, useful citizen of our Empire?

Some of them go to Oxford and Cambridge.  They have heard in India, from some Indians who were up at these Universities from ten to fifteen years ago, how delightful the life is—­how sociable the undergraduates, how hospitable the dons.  Surely then at these ancient seats of learning they will find friendliness, and will come to know the English.  They go up only to find disappointment.  The numbers have largely increased and all sorts and conditions of men come.  Colleges are reluctant to admit them.  The English undergraduate accepts any man who is good at games and ready to enter into the University life, but leaves severely alone the man of any nationality who has had no opportunity of learning English games, and who is too shy and sensitive to show what he is worth.  Those who are good at games get on, the