So far as I am informed, though very serious in Calcutta—­the feeling is serious, how could it be anything else?—­they have exercised the great and noble virtue, in all ranks and classes, of self-command.  Now the Government—­if you will allow me for a very few moments to say a word on behalf of the Government, not here alone but at Simla—­we and they, for after all we are one—­have been assailed for a certain want of courage and what is called, often grossly miscalled, vigour.

We were told the other day—­and this brings us to the root of policy—­that there had been a momentary flash of courage in the Government, a momentary flash of courage when the Government of India and we here assented to the deportation of two men, and it is made a matter of complaint that they were released immediately.  Well, they were not released immediately, but after six or eight months—­I forget exactly how many months—­of detention.  They were there with no charge, no trial, nor intention of bringing them to trial.  How long were we to keep them there?  Not a day, I answer, nor one hour, after the specific and particular mischief, with a view to which this drastic proceeding was adopted, had abated.  Specific mischief, mind you.  I will not go into that argument to-night:  another day I will.  I will only say one thing.  To strain the meaning and the spirit of an exceptional law like the old Regulation of the year 1818 in such a fashion as this, what would it do?  Such a strain, pressed upon us in the perverse imagination of headstrong men, is no better than a suggestion for provoking lawless and criminal reprisals. ("No.”) You may not agree with me.  You are kindly allowing me as your guest to say things with which perhaps you do not agree. (Cries of “Go on.”) After all, we understand one another—­we speak the same language, and I tell you that a proceeding of that kind, indefinite detention, is a thing that would not be endured in this country. (A voice of “Disorder.”) Yes, if there were great and clear connection between the detention and the outbreak of disorder, certainly; but as the disorder had abated it would have been intolerable for us to continue the incarceration.

Last Monday, what is called a Press Act, was passed by the Government of India, in connection with, and simultaneously with, an Explosives Act which ought to have been passed, I should think, twenty years ago.  What is the purport of the Press Act?  I do not attempt to give it in technical language.  Where the Local Government finds a newspaper article inciting to murder and violence, or resort to explosives for the purposes of murder or violence, that Local Government may apply to a Magistrate of a certain status to issue an order for the seizure of the Press by which that incitement has been printed; and if the owner of the Press feels himself aggrieved, he may within fifteen days ask the High Court to reverse the order, and direct the restoration of the Press.  That is