a statement of the law that has been passed in India, and to which I do not doubt we shall give our assent.  There has been the usual outcry raised—­usual in all these cases.  Certain people say, “Oh, you are too late.”  Others say, “You are too early.”  I will say to you first of all, and to any other audience afterwards, that I have no apology to make for being a party to the passing of this law now; and I have no apology to make for not passing it before.  I do not believe in short cuts, and I believe that the Government in these difficult circumstances is wise not to be in too great a hurry.  I have no apology to make for introducing executive action into what would normally be a judicial process.  Neither, on the other hand, have I any apology to make for tempering executive action with judicial elements; and I am very glad to say that an evening newspaper last night, which is not of the politics to which I belong, entirely approves of that.  It says:  “You must show that you are not afraid of referring your semi-executive, semi-judicial action to the High Court.”  This Act meddles with no criticism, however strong, of Government measures.  It discourages the advocacy of no practical policy, social, political, or economic.  Yet I see, to my great regret and astonishment, that this Act is described as an Act for judging cases of seditious libel without a Jury.  It is contended by some—­and I respect the contention—­that the Imperial Parliament ought to have been consulted before this Act was passed, and ought to be consulted now. (Cries of “No, no.”) My veteran friends lived before the days of household suffrage.  Well, it is said that the voice of Parliament ought to be heard in so grave a matter as this.  But the principles of the proposals were fully considered, as was quite right, not only by the Secretary of State in Council, but by the Cabinet.  It was a matter of public urgency.  I stand by it.  But it is perfectly natural to ask:  Should the Imperial Parliament have no voice?  I have directed the Government of India to report to the Secretary of State all the proceedings taken under this Act; and I undertake, as long as I hold the office of Secretary of State, to present to Parliament from time to time the reports of the proceedings taken under this somewhat drastic Act.

When I am told that an Act of this kind is a restriction on the freedom of the Press, I do not accept it for a moment.  I do not believe that there is a man in England who is more jealous of the freedom of the Press than I am.  But let us see what we mean.  It is said, “Oh, these incendiary articles”—­for they are incendiary and murderous—­“are mere froth.”  Yes, they are froth; but they are froth stained with bloodshed.  When you have men admitting that they deliberately write these articles and promote these newspapers with a view of furthering murderous action, to talk of the freedom of the Press in connection with that is wicked moonshine.  We have now got a very Radical House of Commons.