TOPICS OF THE DAY.
THE OUTRAGE AT DELHI. THE opinion is said to be general in India that the deplorable attempt on the life of the Viceroy at Delhi was not one of those crazy acts of irresponsible individuals from which no prominent person is ever wholly safe, but the product of an organized conspiracy. If this should prove to be true, one would be tempted to say that in India it had become impossible to distinguish the organization of sedition from the meaningless frenzy of a stray lunatic. For it is impossible to see, even from the point of view of those who believe in revolutionary violence, what could possibly be gained by the outrage at Delhi. It would be just intelligible, so far as one can follow the mad logic of Indian sedition, if the transference of the capital from Calcutta to Delhi were regarded as a grievance, and the bomb were therefore intended as a warning against completing an unpopular policy. But neither Hindus nor Mohammedans have any grievance in this respect. The change of capital was part of the same programme which reversed the decision as to the partition of Bengal and thus satisfied the clamour of the Bengalis. And as for the Mohammedans, the choice of Delhi in the place of Calcutta must seem to them a signal honour done to the ancient seat of Mohammedan power.
If there really is, however, an organized conspiracy, it is deeply disappointing. Everyone engaged in the government of India must feel rather as a convalescent feels who suffers a disquieting relapse. So long as the patient is conscious of making some progress day by day he is not greatly troubled by his pains and weari- ness. Everything that happens in that way, he feels, is only to be expected, for the new ground of health must be acquired by suffering. Hope buoys him up. But when one day a relapse comes, then indeed is the test of hopefulness, pluck, and coolness all at once. Everything tends to dishearten him. He is conscious that the evil bacilli in his system are again at work. He had thought that they were killed or scotched by the physic or the vaccine, but it is now evident that they were all the time recovering their power, and who knows whether he will have strength to meet whatever trials the future may hold for him ? His confidence is not what it was. Suppose the physic was useless, or the vaccine was only creating new afflictions in the process of relieving old ones ? Such are the thoughts which assault a sick man's brain, and such are the thoughts which are bound, more or less, to trouble all those who are responsible for British admini- stration in India. Have the measures of conciliation, the promotion of provincial responsibility, and the press laws been mistaken remedies ? Has the sickness of the Indian people been only latent during the past year, and is the seat of the illness in as diseased a condition as ever ? Has the enchantment which held all India during the King's visit passed away ? It is natural and right that these questions should trouble the Government of India. But if there is any value in the illustration we have used, it is cogent and relevant entirely in this : that it is precisely when the patient is inclined to be depressed—when he is uncertain whether he is suffering from a reaction which has no particular significance in the course of the disease or whether the disease itself in all its grimness is about to return to him—that he has need of the utmost range of his self-possession, determination, and courage. These qualities are part of a true cure. Without them he may gradually decline. With them he will almost certainly pull through.
We earnestly hope it may not be that a pronounced revival of sedition is beginning in India. We are not at all inclined to believe it. But at all events it is a steadying thing at a moment of disappointment and discomfiture to remind oneself of the principles which make it necessary, and make it perfectly possible, to face and overcome all the con- ceivable difficulties of Indian government. Some people always talk as though the British race performed a kind of conjuring trick by staying in India with a comparatively small armed force and without the sanction of popularity. As a matter of fact it is not a wonderful performance. The various Indian peoples are so disunited and in different degrees so antipathetic to one another that it would be a miracle if they ever joined in a common opposition to British rule. Such a miracle is unimagin- able. Caste alone will prevent it so long as caste exists. That is the simple physical reason why it will always be possible to continue our rule in India. The second reason is a moral reason, but of no less weight. It is that the people of India require our rule. We are not in India for our pleasure or our profit. If we were, it would be the most natural thing in the world to say that the game is not worth the candle as soon as intense difficulties and dangers arise, and leave India to go to perdition in her own way. But we cannot do that. We are in India, and shall continue to be in India, because we are required there. If our rule were removed, India would at once become a prey to the strongest of the racial aggregations, and they in their turn would ultimately be devoured by intruders from outside the borders of India. The history of India would repeat itself, and the country would be the scene of a long succession of dominations and marauding invasions. After the Mutiny John Bright said, "We do not know how to leave India and, therefore, let us see if we know how to govern it." We may not yet have discovered the panacea of government, but it is as true as ever that we must find it, for " we do not know how to leave India."
The trust we have undertaken in India admits of no relaxation and no compromise with opportunism. We either discharge it wholeheartedly, not measuring our accomplishment by the applause or gratitude we may earn, or we do not discharge it at all. If it should be shown after a good trial that the policy of political conciliation introduced by Lord Morley, as distinct from Lord Curzon's policy of " higher political efficiency "—to use Lord Morley's description of it—is not acting well in its present form, we ought not to hesitate to modify it merely through fear of being charged with reaction. Lord Morley and Lord Minto themselves were not afraid of that loose and easy charge when they tightened the criminal laws about the press. An analogy between the British democracy and the people of India is invariably fallacious. We understand and appreciate all the arguments about driving rebellion underground and unnecessarily making martyrs. But the fact remains that Oriental peoples have a habit of mind so different from ours that they often persist in taking as a symptom of weakness and fear what is in reality a token of self-confidence in the Government. The principle of the safety-valve can be pressed too far. We may be sure that if new measures become necessary against anarchical violence they will be used soberly and with that sense of reluctance that is the most efficient brake on mistaken zeal. Anything in the spirit of reprisal will be out of the question. " Reprisals are always useless," commented the French General Vinoy when he watched the policy of indiscriminate executions in the fierce early days of the Mutiny. And what was a truism to the French general is not likely to be misunderstood by the countrymen of Outram, Havelock, Nicholson, the Lawrences, or Curzon Wyllie. " Let the procession go on," said Lord Hardinge, when he was wounded. " Let the government of India go on," will be the resolve of the Government of India and the admirable Civil Service. That is so obvious and so certain that it is almost an impertinence to state it. But for the reasons we have given above every one will know well that the government can not only go on, but can go on with the assurance of success.
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