Next I come to what, I am sure, is first in the minds of most Members of the House—­the political and social condition of India.  Lord Minto became Viceroy, I think, in November, 1905, and the present Government succeeded to power in the first week of December.  Now much of the criticism that I have seen on the attitude of His Majesty’s Government and the Viceroy, leaves out of account the fact that we did not come quite into a haven of serenity and peace.  Very fierce monsoons had broken out on the Olympian heights at Simla, in the camps, and in the Councils at Downing Street.  This was the inheritance into which we came—­rather a formidable inheritance for which I do not, this afternoon, attempt to distribute the responsibility.  Still, when we came into power, our policy was necessarily guided by the conditions under which the case had been left.  Our policy was to compose the singular conditions of controversy and confusion by which we were faced.  In the famous Army case we happily succeeded.  But in Eastern Bengal, for a time, we did not succeed.  When I see newspaper articles beginning with the preamble that the problem of India is altogether outside party questions, I well know from experience that this is too often apt to be the forerunner of a regular party attack.  It is said that there has been supineness, vacillation and hesitation.  I reply boldly, there has been no supineness, no vacillation, no hesitation from December, 1905, up to the present day.

I must say a single word about one episode, and it is with sincere regret I refer to it.  It is called the Fuller episode.  I have had the pleasure of many conversations with Sir Bampfylde Fuller since his return, and I recognise to the full his abilities, his good faith, and the dignity and self-control with which, during all this period of controversy, he has never for one moment attempted to defend himself, or to plunge into any sort of contest with the Viceroy or His Majesty’s Government.[1] Conduct of that kind deserves our fullest recognition.  I recognise to the full his gifts and his experience, but I am sure that if he were in this House, he would hardly quarrel with me for saying that those gifts were not altogether well adapted to the situation he had to face.

[Footnote 1:  An unhappy lapse took place at a later date.]

What was the case?  The Lieutenant-Governor suggested a certain course.  The Government of India thought it was a mistake, and told him so.  The Lieutenant-Governor thereupon said, “Very well, then I’m afraid I must resign.”  There was nothing in all that except what was perfectly honourable to Sir Bampfylde Fuller.  But does anybody here take up this position, that if a Lieutenant-Governor says, “If I cannot have my own way I will resign,” then the Government of India are bound to refuse to accept that resignation?  All I can say is, and I do not care who the man may be, that if any gentleman in the Indian service says he will resign unless he can have his own way, then