It is impossible to feel amiable when passing through these desolating
scenes, where nature, originally so beautiful, has been defaced, and the
people, instead of deriving pleasure from natural beauties, are obtuse
to all the surroundings, which, according to educated taste, would
ensure appreciation. I felt inclined to upset the donkeys, capture their
proprietors, and . . . I could not have hung them upon the trees that
they had defaced, for no bough had been left that would have supported
their weight . . . and there was no rope.
While these vindictive and statesman-likethoughts boiled within me, the
naturally courteous people made their graceful salaams as we passed, and
studiously conducted their heavily-laden donkeys out of the path to make
way for our advance, that otherwise would have been effectually choked
by the throng of bush-and-faggot-laden animals, which looked like
"Birnam-wood marching to Dunsinane." In my heart I immediately forgave
the poor people; I knew that the man with the axe who marched behind was
as ignorant, and not so strong, as his donkey who carried the load. They
had been both subjects of a bad government, and it was not their fault
that they were despoilers. You might as well blame the wind for the
destruction of venerable trees; or the locusts for devouring the crops;
they were ungoverned, and unfortunately the instinct of uncivilised man
is to destroy.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274