surrender.

India, with her clear vision, saw in Great Britain the champion of
Freedom, in Germany the champion of Despotism. And she saw rightly.
Rightly she stood by Great Britain, despite her own lack of freedom and
the coercive legislation which outrivalled German despotism, knowing
these to be temporary, because un-English, and therefore doomed to
destruction; she spurned the lure of German gold and rejected German
appeals to revolt. She offered men and money; her educated classes, her
Vakils, offered themselves as Volunteers, pleaded to be accepted. Then
the never-sleeping distrust of Anglo-India rejected the offer, pressed
for money, rejected men. And, slowly, educated India sank back,
depressed and disheartened, and a splendid opportunity for knitting
together the two Nations was lost.

Early in the War I ventured to say that the War could not end until
England recognised that autocracy and bureaucracy must perish in India
as well as in Europe. The good Bishop of Calcutta, with a courage worthy
of his free race, lately declared that it would be hypocritical to pray
for victory over autocracy in Europe and to maintain it in India. Now it
has been clearly and definitely declared that Self-Government is to be
the objective of Great Britain in India, and that a substantial measure
of it is to be given at once; when this promise is made good by the
granting of the Reforms outlined last year in Lucknow, then the end of
the War will be in sight. For the War cannot end till the death-knell of
autocracy is sounded.

Causes, with which I will deal presently and for which India was not
responsible, have somewhat obscured the first eager expressions of
India's sympathy, and have forced her thoughts largely towards her own