Those are great things. But I am told great uneasiness is growing in the House of Commons as to the matter of deportation. You know what deportation means. It means that nine Indian gentlemen on December 13 last were arrested and are now detained—arrested under a law which is as good a law as any law on our own statute-book. You will forgive me for detaining you with this, but it is an actual and pressing point. Some of the most respected members of my own party write a letter to the Prime Minister protesting. A Bill has been brought in, and the first reading of it was carried two or three days ago, of which I can only say—with all responsibility for what I am saying—that it is nothing less, if you consider the source from which it comes, and if you consider the arguments by which it is supported, than a vote of distinct censure on me and Lord Minto. The Bill is also supported by a very clever and rising member of the Opposition. Now words of an extraordinary character have been used in support of this severe criticism of the policy of myself and Lord Minto. In a motion, not in connection with the Bill, but earlier in the Session, words were read from Magna Charta, with the insinuation that the present Secretary of State is as dubious a character as the Sovereign against whom Magna Charta was directed. Gloomy references were actually made to King Charles I., and it was shown that we were exercising powers that, when attempted to be exercised by Charles I., led to the Civil War and cost Charles I. his head. This was at the beginning of the present Session. I doubt if they will get through to the end of the Session, whenever that may be, without comparisons being instituted between the Secretary of State, for example, and Strafford or even Cromwell in his worst moments, as they would think. If Cromwell is mentioned, I shall know where to point out how Cromwell was troubled by Fifth Monarchy men, Praise-God Barebones, Venner, Saxby, and others. In historical parallels I am fairly prepared for the worst. I will take my chance.

Let us look at this seriously, because serious minds are exercised by deportation, and quite naturally. On December 13 nine Indians were arrested under a certain Indian Regulation of the year 1818, and they who reproach us with violating the glories of 1215 (which is Magna Charta) and the Petition of Rights, complain that 1818 is far too remote for us to be at all affected by anything that was then made law. Now what is the Regulation? I will ask you to follow me pretty closely for a minute or two. The Regulation of 1818 says:—"Reasons of State occasionally render it necessary to place under personal restraint individuals, against whom there may not be sufficient grounds to institute any judicial proceedings, and the Governor-General in Council is able for good and sufficient reasons to determine that A.B. shall be placed under personal restraint." There is no trial; there is no charge; there is no fixed limit of time of detention; and in short it is equivalent to a suspension of habeas corpus. That is a broad statement, but substantially that is what it is. Now I do not deny for a moment that if proceedings of this kind, such as took place on December 13 last year, were normal or frequent, if they took place every day of the week or every week of the month, it would be dangerous and in the highest degree discreditable to our whole Government in India. It would be detestable and dangerous. But is there to be no such thing as an Emergency power? I am not talking about England, Scotland, or Ireland. I am talking about India. Is there to be no such thing as an emergency power? My view is that the powers given under the Regulation of 1818 do constitute an emergency power, which, may be lawfully applied if an emergency presents itself. Was there an emergency last December? The Government of India found in December a movement that was a grave menace to the very foundations of public peace and security. The list of crimes for twelve months was formidable, showing the determined and daring character of the supporters of this movement. The crimes were not all. Terrorism prevented evidence. The ordinary process of law was no longer adequate, and the fatal impression prevailed that the Government could be defied with impunity. The Government of India did not need to pass a new law. We found a law in the armoury and we applied it. Very disagreeable, but still we should have been perfectly unworthy of holding the position we do—I am speaking now of the Government of India and myself—if we had not taken that weapon out of the armoury, and used it against these evildoers.

It was vital that we should stamp out the impression that the Government of India could be defied with impunity, not in matters of opinion, mark you, but in matters affecting peace, order, life, and property—that the Government in those elementary conditions of social existence could be defied with impunity. I say, then—it was vital in that week of December that these severe proceedings should be taken, if there was to be any fair and reasonable chance for those reforms which have since been laboriously hammered out, which had been for very many months upon the anvil, and to which we looked, as we look now, for a real pacification. It was not the first time that this arbitrary power—for it is that, I never disguise it—was used. It was used some years ago—I forget how many. I was talking the other day to an officer who was greatly concerned in it in Poona, and he described the conditions, and told me the effect was magical. I do not say the effect of our proceedings the other day was magical. I do not say that bombs and knives and pistols are at an end. None of the officers in India think that we may not have some of these over again, but at any rate for the moment, and, I believe, for much more than the moment, we have secured order and tranquillity and acquiescence, and a warm approval of, and interest in, our reforms. I have said we have had acceptance of our reforms. What a curious thing it is that, after the reforms were announced, and after the deportations had taken place, still there came to Lord Minto deputations, and to me many telegrams, conveying their appreciation and gratitude for the reforms, and other things we have done. Our good friends who move a vote of censure upon us, are better Indians than the Indians themselves. I cannot imagine a more mistaken proceeding.

Let me say one more word about deportations. It is true that there is no definite charge that could be produced in a court of law. That is the very essence of the whole transaction. Then it is said—"Oh, but you look to the police; you get all your evidence from the police." That is not so. The Government of India get their information, not evidence in a technical sense—that is the root of the matter—from important district officers. But it is said then, "Who is to decide the value of the information?" I heard that one gentleman in the House of Commons said privately in ordinary talk, "If English country gentlemen were to decide this, we would not mind." Who do decide? Do you think this is done by a police sergeant in a box? On the contrary, every one of these nine cases of deportation has been examined and investigated—by whom? By Lord Minto, by the late Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, by the present Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, by two or three members of the Viceroy's Executive Council. Are we to suppose for a minute that men of this great station and authority and responsibility are going to issue a lettre de cachet for A.B., C.D., or E.F., without troubling themselves whether that lettre de cachet is wisely issued or not? Then it is said of a man who is arrested under this law, "Oh, he ought not to be harshly treated." He is not harshly treated. If he is one of these nine deported men, he is not put into contact with criminal persons. His family are looked after. He subsists under conditions which are to an Indian perfectly conformable to his social position, and to the ordinary comforts and conveniences of his life. The greatest difference is drawn between these nine men and other men against whom charges to be judicially tried are brought. All these cases come up for reconsideration from time to time. They will come up shortly, and that consideration will be conducted with justice and with firmness. There can be no attempt at all to look at this transaction of the nine deported men otherwise than as a disagreeable measure, but one imposed upon us by a sense of public duty and a measure that events justify. What did Mr. Gokhale, who is a leader of a considerable body of important political opinion in India, say? Did he move a vote of censure? He said in the Legislative Council the other day in Calcutta, that Lord Minto and the Secretary of State had saved India from drifting into chaos. I owe you an apology, Mr. Vice-Chancellor and gentlemen, for pressing upon your attention points suggested by criticisms from politicians of generous but unbalanced impulse. But they are important, and I am glad you have allowed me to say what I have said upon them.

APPENDIX

A

Extract from the dispatch of the Board of Directors of the East India Company to the Government of India, December 10, 1834, accompanying the Government of India Act, 1833.[1]

[Footnote 1: Tradition ascribes this piece to the pen of James Mill. His son, J.S. Mill, was the author of the protest by the Company against the transfer to the Crown in 1858.]

103. By clause 87 of the Act it is provided that no person, by reason of his birth, creed, or colour, shall be disqualified from holding any office in our service.

104. It is fitting that this important enactment should be understood in order that its full spirit and intention may be transfused through our whole system of administration.