received then, and it continues to increase from year to year, though
he has paid the principal twice over in interest; at least he thinks
he has, but he is not a good accountant. Every now and then he is
required to sign some fresh document, of the contents of which he
knows nothing, but the effect of which is always the same--viz., to
heap up his liabilities and rivet his fetters more firmly, and
punctually on pay day every month, the grim old man waylays him and
compels him to disgorge his wages, allowing him so much grain and
spices as will keep him in condition till next pay day. In a word,
Mukkun is a slave. Yet he does not jump into the garden well, nor
his quietus make with a bare bodkin. No, he plods through life, eats
his rice and curry with gusto, smokes his cigarette with
satisfaction, oils his lovelocks, borrows money from the cook to buy
a set of silver buttons for his waistcoat, and when he tires of them,
pawns them to pay for a velvet cap on which he has set his heart. In
short, he behaves a la Mukkun, and no insight is to be had by
examining his case through English spectacles; but it is our strange
infirmity, being the most singular people on earth, to regard
ourselves as typical of the human race, and ergo to conclude that
what is good for us cannot be otherwise than good for all the world.
Hence many of our anti-tyranny agitations and philanthropies, not
always beneficial to the subjects of them, and also many of our
misplaced sympathies. We see a spider eating a fly, and long to
crush the spider, while we shed a tear for the fly. But the spider
is much the higher animal of the two. It labours long hours laying
out a net, and then waits all day for the fruit of its toil. Insects
are caught and escape again, the net gets broken, and when, after
many disappointments, the spider secures a fat fly, what advantage
does it derive? A meal; just what the fly got by sitting in a pit of
manure and sipping till it could sip no more. Doom that fly to the