as to the details of the occurrences in the Punjab can hardly hold water.  The preoccupations of the Afghan war which followed closely on the Punjab troubles were no doubt absorbing, but had the Viceroy or the Home member or the Commander-in-Chief or one of his responsible advisers proceeded in person, the moment the disorders were over, to Lahore or Amritsar, barely more than a night’s journey from Delhi or Simla, is it conceivable that a halt would not have been forthwith called to proceedings which these high officers of state were constrained later on unanimously to deplore and reprobate?  And if the Government of India were too slow to move, was there not a Secretary of State who knew, from statements made to him personally by Sir Michael O’Dwyer on his return to England, at least enough to insist upon immediate inquiry on the spot?  Mr. Montagu has seldom, it is believed, hesitated to require in the most peremptory terms full information on far more trivial matters.  Had prompt action been taken in India, there would never have been any need for the Hunter Committee.  As it was, Indian feeling had run tremendously high before its findings were made public.  So when the Government of India and the Secretary of State published their belated judgment, the people of India weighed such a tardy measure of justice against the dissent of an important minority in the House of Commons and of the majority of the Lords, the stifling of discussion in the Indian Legislature, which was still more directly interested in the matter, and above all the unprecedented public subscriptions in England and in India for the glorification of General Dyer, whilst the Punjab Government was still haggling over doles to the widows and orphans of Jallianwala—­and, having weighed it, found it lamentably wanting, until at last the Duke of Connaught’s moving speech at Delhi for the first time began to redress the balance.

The story of Jallianwala and all that followed in the Punjab scattered to the winds Mr. Gandhi’s threadbare penitence for the horrible violence of Indian mobs, and he poured out henceforth all the vials of his wrath on the violence of the repression, far more unpardonable, he declared, because they were not the outcome of ignorant fanaticism, but of a definite policy adopted by European officers high in rank and responsibility.  There was no longer any doubt in his mind that a Government that tolerated or condoned or palliated such things was “Satanic,” and that the whole civilisation for which such a Government stood was equally Satanic.  For Indians to co-operate with it until it had shown “a complete change of heart” was a deadly sin.  To accept any scheme of constitutional reforms as reparation for the wrongs of the Punjab with which the wrongs of Turkey were linked up with an increased fervour of righteous indignation when the terms of the treaty of Sevres became known, was treachery to the soul of India.  Thence it was but a step to the organisation