The opposition to the scheme was vehement and pertinacious.  The Old Company presented petition after petition.  The Tories, with Seymour at their head, appealed both to the good faith and to the compassion of Parliament.  Much was said about the sanctity of the existing Charter, and much about the tenderness due to the numerous families which had, in reliance on that Charter, invested their substance in India stock.  On the other side there was no want of plausible topics or of skill to use them.  Was it not strange that those who talked so much about the Charter should have altogether overlooked the very clause of the Charter on which the whole question turned?  That clause expressly reserved to the government power of revocation, after three years’ notice, if the Charter should not appear to be beneficial to the public.  The Charter had not been found beneficial to the public; the three years’ notice should be given; and in the year 1701 the revocation would take effect.  What could be fairer?  If anybody was so weak as to imagine that the privileges of the Old Company were perpetual, when the very instrument which created those privileges expressly declared them to be terminable, what right had he to blame the Parliament, which was bound to do the best for the State, for not saving him, at the expense of the State, from the natural punishment of his own folly?  It was evident that nothing was proposed inconsistent with strict justice.  And what right had the Old Company to more than strict justice?  These petitioners who implored the legislature to deal indulgently with them in their adversity, how had they used their boundless prosperity?  Had not the India House recently been the very den of corruption, the tainted spot from which the plague had spread to the Court and the Council, to the House of Commons and the House of Lords?  Were the disclosures of 1695 forgotten, the eighty thousand pounds of secret service money disbursed in one year, the enormous bribes direct and indirect, Seymour’s saltpetre contracts, Leeds’s bags of golds?  By the malpractices which the inquiry in the Exchequer Chamber then brought to light, the Charter had been forfeited; and it would have been well if the forfeiture had been immediately enforced.  “Had not time then pressed,” said Montague, “had it not been necessary that the session should close, it is probable that the petitioners, who now cry out that they cannot get justice, would have got more justice than they desired.  If they had been called to account for great and real wrong in 1695, we should not have had them here complaining of imaginary wrong in 1698.”