It is like war, a hateful thing, from which, however, some of the most ardent lovers of peace, and some of those rulers of the world whose names the most ardent lovers of peace most honour and revere—­it is one of the things from which these men have not shrunk.  The only question for us is whether there is such a situation in India to-day as to warrant the passing of the Act the other day, and to justify resort to the Regulation of 1818.  I cannot imagine anybody reading the speeches—­especially the unexaggerated remarks of the Viceroy—­and the list of crimes perpetrated, and attempted, that were read out last Friday in Calcutta—­I cannot imagine that anybody reading that list and thinking what they stand for, would doubt for a single moment that summary procedure of some kind or another was justified and called for.  I discern a tendency to criticise this legislation on grounds that strike me as extraordinary.  After all, it is not our fault that we have had to bring in this measure.  You must protect the lives of your officers.  You must protect peaceful and harmless people, both Indian and European, from the blood-stained havoc of anarchic conspiracy.  We deplore the necessity, but we are bound to face the facts.  I myself recognise this necessity with infinite regret, and with something, perhaps, rather deeper than regret.  But it is not the Government, either here or in India, who are the authors of this necessity, and I should not at all mind, if it is not impertinent and unbecoming in me to say so, standing up in another place and saying exactly what I say here, that I approve of these proceedings and will do my best to support the Government of India.

Now a very important question arises, for which I would for a moment ask the close attention of your Lordships, because I am sure that both here and elsewhere it will be argued that the necessity, and the facts that caused the necessity, of bringing forward strong repressive machinery should arrest our policy of reforms.  That has been stated, and I dare say many people will assent to it.  Well, the Government of India and myself have from the very first beginning of this unsettled state of things, never varied in our determination to persevere in the policy of reform.

I put two plain questions to your Lordships.  I am sick of all the retrograde commonplaces about the weakness of concession to violence and so on.  Persevering in our plan of reform is not a concession to violence.  Reforms that we have publicly announced, adopted, and worked out for more than two years—­how is it a concession to violence, to persist in those reforms?  It is simply standing to your guns.  A number of gentlemen, of whom I wish to speak with all respect, addressed a very courteous letter to me the other day that appeared in the public prints, exhorting me to remember that Oriental countries inevitably and invariably interpret kindness as fear.  I do not believe it.  The Founder of Christianity arose