India is in the hands of some 1,200 men who belong
to the Indian Civil Service. Let us follow that.
Any member of a body so small must be rapidly placed
in a position of command, and it is almost startling
to me, when I look round on the fresh physiognomies
of those who are going out, and the not less fresh
physiognomies of those who have returned, to think
of the contrast between your position, and that, we
will say, of some of your Oxford contemporaries who
are lawyers, and who have to spend ever so many years
in chambers in Lincoln’s Inn or the Temple waiting
for briefs that do not come. Contrast your position
with that of members who enter the Home Civil Service,
an admirable phalanx; but still for a very long time
a member who enters that service has to pursue the
minor and slightly mechanical routine of Whitehall.
You will not misunderstand me, because nobody knows
better than a Minister how tremendous is the debt
that he owes to the permanent officials of his department.
Certainly I have every reason to be the last man to
underrate that. Well, any of you may be rapidly
placed in a position of real command with inexorable
responsibilities. I am speaking in the presence
of men who know better than I do, all the details,
but it is true that one of you in a few years may
be placed in command of a district and have 1,000,000
human beings committed to his charge. He may
have to deal with a famine; he may have to deal with
a riot; he may take a decision on which the lives
of thousands of people may depend. Well, I think
that early call to responsibility, to a display of
energy, to the exercise of individual decision and
judgment is what makes the Indian Civil Service a
grand career. And that is what has produced an
extraordinary proportion of remarkable men in that
service.
There is another elevating thought, that I should
suppose is present to all of you. To those who
are already in important posts and those who are by-and-by
going to take them up. The good name of England
is in your keeping. Your conduct and the conduct
of your colleagues in other branches of the Indian
Service decides what the peoples of India are to think
of British government and of those who represent it.
Of course you cannot expect the simple villager to
care anything or to know anything about the abstraction
called the raj. What he knows is the particular
officer who stands in front of him, and with whom he
has dealings. If the officer is harsh or overbearing
or incompetent, the Government gets the discredit
of it; the villager assumes that Government is also
harsh, overbearing, and incompetent. There is
this peculiarity which strikes me about the Indian
Civil servant. I am not sure that all of you
will at once welcome it, but it goes to the root of
the matter. He is always more or less on duty.
It is not merely when he is doing his office work;
he is always on duty. The great men of the service
have always recognised this obligation, that official