The next three years, with a brief interlude of privilege leave, were spent in Lower Burma. I was Chief Secretary for a year under Sir Alexander Mackenzie, for nine months under Sir Frederic Fryer, for three months under Mr. Donald Smeaton, who acted in a privilege-leave vacancy. Work was sufficient, not excessive. The Province was in order, and the Secretariat was administered on more regular lines than in the earlier strenuous years. It was no longer necessary to burn the midnight oil or to abjure exercise and recreation. Sir Alexander Mackenzie was a man of extraordinary capacity, and of abnormal, in my experience unexampled, speed of work. Throughout the day four Secretaries toiled and filled office-boxes with files; by nine o’clock next morning all came back with the Chief Commissioner’s orders noted on them. It hardly seemed as if he could have had time to untie the bundles. Yet we had frequent evidence that cases were not dealt with perfunctorily. The speed with which Sir Alexander Mackenzie got to the root of a case, however elaborate or involved, seemed almost supernatural. He left the Secretaries to do their own work, and wrote less than any other Chief I have known. A line of his writing would be the basis of a long draft. The least obstinate of men, he invited criticism and free expression of opinion, and was not afraid of changing his mind. But he was the strong man, the mainspring and motive-power of the Administration. No Secretary cherished the delusion that he was running the Province. We felt that he was the player whose organ-keys were thunders, and we, beneath his foot, the pedal pressed. Parenthetically, it may be observed that in Burma, and probably in other Provinces which do not enjoy the blessing of Executive Councils, the theory that Secretaries are supreme has no foundation in fact. The power and subtle intrigues ascribed to provincial Secretariats are the vain imaginings of people who have had no experience of their working from within. The nonsense asserted or hinted by such persons is incredible, and would be ludicrous but for its effect on others equally ill-informed. Sir Alexander Mackenzie was a genial and appreciative Chief, under whom it was a pleasure to work. As an administrator he was not in the same class as his immediate predecessor, nor did he inspire the personal enthusiasm and affection which many of us felt for Sir Charles Bernard and Sir Charles Crosthwaite. But we respected his marvellous ability, and were grateful for his uniform kindness. According to popular belief, having finished his work before breakfast, he spent the rest of the day on a sofa reading light literature till it was time for tennis.