The Congress was at last passing under Extremist control. Its first session during the war was held in December 1914 in Bombay, and under the presidency of Mr. Bupendranath Basu, afterwards a member of the Secretary of State's Council, the proceedings reflected the general enthusiasm with which India had rallied to the cause of the Empire. But before the Congress met again a disease common amongst Indians and aggravated by overwork and anxiety had carried away in April 1915, still in the prime of life, the founder of the "Servants of India Society," Mr. Gokhale, himself perhaps the greatest servant of India that has toiled in our time for her social as well as her political advancement. His friends believed that in his case the end was precipitated by an acute controversy with Mr. Tilak, to whom he had made one last appeal to abandon his old attitude of irreconcilable opposition. A few months later, in November, the veteran Sir Pherozeshah Mehta, who had fought stoutly ever since Surat against any Congress reunion, in which he clearly foresaw that the Moderates would be the dupes of the Extremists, passed away in his seventy-first year, but not before he had sent a message, worded in his old peremptory style, to Sir Satyendra Sinha, daring him to refuse the chairmanship of the coming session which was to be held in December in Bombay. Sir Satyendra came, and his great personal influence kept the Indian National Congress on the rails, and defeated the projects already on foot once more for delivering it into the hands of Mr. Tilak and his followers. But the death of those two pillars of the Moderate party at such a critical juncture proved to be an irreparable loss. When Mr. Gokhale's political testament was published, it was dismissed by the Extremists as a well-meant but quite obsolete document. The Congress found a new and strange Egeria in Mrs. Besant, who had thrown herself into Indian politics when, owing to circumstances[2] which had nothing to do with politics, the faith that many respectable Hindus had placed in her, on the strength of her theosophical teachings, as a vessel of spiritual election was rudely shaken. But nothing shook the mesmeric influence which she had acquired over young India by preaching with rare eloquence the moral and spiritual superiority of Indian over Western creeds, and condemning the British administration of India, root and branch, as one of the worst manifestations of Western materialism. With her remarkable power of seizing the psychological moment, she had fastened on to the catchword of "Home Rule for India," into which Indians could read whatever measure of reform they happened to favour, whilst it voiced the vague aspiration of India to be mistress in her own house, and to be freed from the reproach of "dependency" in any future scheme of reconstruction. She herself gave it the widest interpretation in New India, a newspaper whose extreme views expressed in the most extreme form drew down upon her not only the action of Government but the censure of the High Court of Madras. At the Congress session held at Lucknow at the end of 1916 she shared the honours of a tremendous ovation with Tilak, whose sufferings—and her own—in the cause of India's freedom her newspaper compared with those of Christ on the Cross. Resolutions were carried not only requesting that the King Emperor might be pleased "to issue a proclamation announcing that it is the aim and intention of British policy to confer self-government on India at an early date," but setting forth in detail a series of preliminary reforms to be introduced forthwith in order to consummate the "bloodless revolution" which, according to the President's closing oration, was already in full blast. The All-India Moslem League sitting at the same time at Lucknow followed the Congress lead.

To those feverish days at Lucknow the session of the Imperial Legislative Council held shortly afterwards at Delhi afforded a striking contrast. The Great War was in its third year, and the end seemed as far off as ever. The Government of India announced the issue of an Indian War Loan for £100,000,000 which was well received and speedily subscribed, and, as an earnest of the revision of the whole fiscal relations of the Empire after the war, an increase of the import duty on cotton fabrics, without the corresponding increase of the excise duty which had always been resented as an unjust protection of the Lancashire industry, abated an Indian grievance of twenty years' standing. A Defence Force Bill opening up opportunities for Indians to volunteer and be trained for active service responded in some measure to the agitation for a national militia which the Congress had encouraged. The Viceroy also announced that the system of indentured emigration to Fiji and the West Indies against which Indian sentiment had begun to rebel was at an end, and that the problem of Indian education would be submitted to a strong Commission appointed, with Sir Thomas Sadler at its head, to inquire in the first place into the position of the Calcutta University, and he warmly invited the co-operation of Indians of all parties with the representative Committee under Sir Thomas Holland, then already engaged in quickening the development of Indian industries which, far too long neglected by successive governments, was at last receiving serious attention under the compelling pressure of a world-war. Government and Legislature met and parted on cordial terms. But Mrs. Besant never abated the vehemence of her Home Rule campaign, for only by Home Rule could India, she declared, "be saved from ruin, from becoming a nation of coolies for the enrichment of others." Access to some of the provinces was denied to her by Provincial Governments, and the Government of Madras decided to "intern" her. The "internment" meant merely that she transferred her residence and most of her activities from Madras to Ootacamund, the summer quarters of the Madras Government, where she hoisted the Home Rule flag on her house and continued to direct the Home Rule movement as vigorously as ever. But in her own flamboyant language she described herself as having been "drafted into the modern equivalent for the Middle Ages oubliette," and even Indians who were not wholly in sympathy with her views were aflame with indignation at her cruel "martyrdom." The Government of India, whilst acquiescing in the action of the Provincial Governments, maintained an attitude of masterly inactivity, and neither in India nor at home was an authoritative word forthcoming as to the birth of the reforms scheme known to be in laborious gestation.

The political tension grew more and more acute. When would Simla or Whitehall break the prolonged silence? The publication of the Mesopotamian Report only added fuel to the flames, as it was easy to read into it a condemnation of Indian administration only less sweeping, if expressed in a more restrained form, than that which Indians had for years past poured forth upon it. There was no restraint at all in the fierce attack delivered upon it during the subsequent debate in the House of Commons by Lord Morley's former Under Secretary of State for India, Mr. Montagu. He had himself visited India and was personally known there, and his speech, cabled out at once in full, produced a tremendous sensation, which was intensified when a few days later he was appointed Secretary of State for India in succession to Mr. Chamberlain. There could be no doubt whatever as to the reality of the "new angle of vision" when on August 20 Mr. Montagu made in the House of Commons and Lord Chelmsford in Simla a simultaneous announcement, as solemn in its form as it was far-reaching in its implications.

The purpose of British policy, it declared, was not only "the increasing association of Indians in every branch of the administration, but also the greatest development of self-governing institutions with a view to the progressive realisation of responsible government in India as an integral part of the British Empire."

This momentous announcement was accompanied, it is true, by a reservation to the effect "that the British Government and the Government of India, on whom the responsibility lies for the welfare and advancement of the Indian people, must be judges of the time and measure of each advance; and they must be guided by the co-operation received from those upon whom new opportunities of service will thus be conferred, and by the extent to which it is found that confidence can be reposed in their sense of responsibility." But it was made clear that the declaration of policy was not meant to be a mere enunciation of principles, for it wound up with the statement that His Majesty's Government had "decided that substantial steps in this direction should be taken as soon as possible, and that it is of the highest importance that there should be a free and informal exchange of opinion between those in authority at home and in India." For that purpose Mr. Montagu himself was authorised to proceed to India and confer with the Viceroy, in response to an invitation addressed originally to Mr. Chamberlain and extended after his resignation to his successor at the India Office.

Could this great pronouncement have been made a year earlier, and with the added authority of a Royal proclamation, it might have been received with such widespread acclamation in India as to drown any but the shrillest notes of dissent from the irreconcilables. The Moderates hardly dared to admit that it fulfilled—nay, more than fulfilled—their hopes, whilst the Extremists in the Indian National Congress, presided over on this occasion by Mrs. Besant herself, banged, bolted, and barred the door against any compromise by reaffirming and stiffening into something akin to an ultimatum the Home Rule resolutions of 1916 just at the moment when Mr. Montagu was landing in India. But the Secretary of State was not the man to be perturbed by such demonstrations. He had the British politician's faith in compromise, and he did not perhaps understand fully that Indian Extremism represents a very different quality of opposition from any that a British Minister has yet had to reckon with in Parliament. He saw Indians of all classes and creeds and political parties during his tour through India, but on none did he lavish more time and more patient hearing than upon the Extremists whom he hoped against hope to convert. He had an easier task when he tried to disarm the resentment which his vigorous onslaught on the methods and temper of British administration just before he took office had aroused amongst the European members of the public services. He conferred with governors and with heads of departments, and with representatives of the European community. He received endless deputations and masses of addresses, and he remained of course in close consultation with the Viceroy in accordance with the declared object of his mission. After four strenuous months Mr. Montagu and Lord Chelmsford signed at Simla on April 22, 1918, a joint report which was laid before Parliament in July.

Great as had always been the responsibilities of the Secretary of State and the Viceroy for the government of India "as by law established," they were on this occasion vastly greater. For two men of widely different temperaments had to work out together a scheme for shifting the very axis of government. They rose to the occasion. The Montagu-Chelmsford Report will rank with the great State papers which are landmarks of constitutional progress in the history of the British Empire. It falls naturally and logically into two parts, the first setting forth the conditions of the problem, the second the recommendations for its solution; and even if the second had not provided the foundations for the Act of 1919, the first would have deserved to live as a masterly survey of the state of India—the first authoritative one since the transfer to the Crown just sixty years before. For the first time since the Mutiny it marked a reversion to the spirit in which the Bentincks and Munros and Elphinstones had almost a century earlier conceived the mission of England in India to lie in the training of the Indian people to govern themselves, and for the first time an attempt was made to appraise generously but fairly the position of the Western-educated classes and the part they have come to play in the Indian polity. The passage is worth quoting in full, as the constitutional changes effected on the lines recommended by the Report were to give them the opportunity to prove the stuff they were made of as the political leaders of their country.

In estimating the politically-minded portion of the people of India we should not go either to census reports on the one hand, or to political literature on the other. It is one of the most difficult portions of our task to see them in their right relation to the rest of the country. Our obligations to them are plain, for they are intellectually our children. They have imbibed ideas which we ourselves have set before them, and we ought to reckon it to their credit. The present intellectual and moral stir in India is no reproach but rather a tribute to our work. The Raj would have been a mechanical and iron thing if the spirit of India had not responded to it. We must remember, too, that the educated Indian has come to the front by hard work; he has seized the education which we offered him because he first saw its advantages; and it is he who has advocated and worked for political progress. All this stands to his credit. For thirty years he has developed in his Congress, and latterly in the Moslem League, free popular convocations which express his ideals. We owe him sympathy because he has conceived and pursued the idea of managing his own affairs, an aim which no Englishman can fail to respect. He has made a skilful, and on the whole a moderate, use of the opportunities which we have given him in the legislative councils of influencing Government and affecting the course of public business, and of recent years he has by speeches and in the press done much to spread the idea of a united and self-respecting India among thousands who had no such conception in their minds. Helped by the inability of the other classes in India to play a prominent part he has assumed the place of leader; but his authority is by no means universally acknowledged and may in an emergency prove weak.

The prospects of advance very greatly depend upon how far the educated Indian is in sympathy with and capable of fairly representing the illiterate masses. The old assumption that the interests of the ryot must be confided to official hands is strenuously denied by modern educated Indians. They claim that the European official must by his lack of imagination and comparative lack of skill in tongues be gravely handicapped in interpreting the thoughts and desires of an Asiatic people. On the other hand, it is argued that in the limited spread of education, the endurance of caste exclusiveness and of usages sanctioned by caste, and in the records of some local bodies and councils, may be found reasons which suggest that the politically-minded classes stand somewhat apart from and in advance of the ordinary life of the country. Nor would it be surprising if this were the case. Our educational policy in the past aimed at satisfying the few who sought after English education, without sufficient thought of the consequences which might ensue from not taking care to extend instruction to the many. We have in fact created a limited intelligentsia, who desire advance; and we cannot stay their progress entirely until education has been extended to the masses. It has been made a reproach to the educated classes that they have followed too exclusively after one or two pursuits, the law, journalism, or school teaching; and that these are all callings which make men inclined to overrate the importance of words and phrases. But even if there is substance in the count, we must take note also how far the past policy of Government is responsible. We have not succeeded in making education practical. It is only now, when the war has revealed the importance of industry, that we have deliberately set about encouraging Indians to undertake the creation of wealth by industrial enterprise, and have thereby offered the educated classes any tangible inducement to overcome their traditional inclination to look down on practical forms of energy. We must admit that the educated Indian is a creation peculiarly of our own; and if we take the credit that is due to us for his strong points we must admit a similar liability for his weak ones. Let us note also in justice to him that the progressive Indian appears to realise the narrow basis of his position and is beginning to broaden it. In municipal and university work he has taken a useful and creditable share. We find him organising effort not for political ends alone, but for various forms of public and social service. He has come forward and done valuable work in relieving famine and distress by floods, in keeping order at fairs, in helping pilgrims, and in promoting co-operative credit. Although his ventures in the fields of commerce have not been always fortunate, he is beginning to turn his attention more to the improvement of agriculture and industry. Above all, he is active in promoting education and sanitation; and every increase in the number of educated people adds to his influence and authority.

The authors of the Report were at the same time by no means unmindful of England's responsibilities towards the vast masses still quite content to accept the system of government which she had given them, and who looked with undiminished faith to their British administrators for the continuance of the peace and security and even-handed justice which they had seldom if ever enjoyed in the same measure under their indigenous rulers. The problem to be solved was "one of political education which must be practical and also experimental." The politically-minded classes had to be given an opportunity of learning how to govern and administer; and the other classes, which have hitherto accepted unquestioningly the government and administration given to them, had to be taught to exercise the critical rights of intelligent citizenship. A sphere had to be found in which Indians could be given work to do, and be held accountable to their own people for the way they did it. That sphere had to be circumscribed at first so as not to endanger the foundations of Government, and yet capable of steady expansion if and in proportion as the experiment succeeds, until the process of political education should be complete and Indians should have shown themselves qualified for the same measure of self-government as the Dominions already enjoy within the British Empire.