Eurasians -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
I always like to speak as well as I can of human nature. It is so
defective at the best that we should always keep the better view of it
to the front, if possible. Yet, I think my tips had considerable to do
with his constant allegiance to my interests. Money is like cement in a
wall; it keeps the bricks together. The power of money! What has it not
done and what is it not able to do? Nothing on earth seems able to stand
before it. Nor honor, nor patriotism, integrity or virtue? Even the
doors of heaven seem to be unlocked by it. If not, why the gifts of
wicked men who have spent their lives in sin, if they did not have faith
that they could purchase a mansion in heaven, as they could buy a ticket
for a seat in a theatre?
It was privately arranged with the bearer that on certain days he would
find under the sheet at the foot of my bed a letter which he was to take
to the post-box on the lower road. So faithfully was this contract kept
that my letters never failed to be posted.
To be sure this was a violation of the one of the rules, but what of it?
I was not conscious of wrong in evading the rule. They had no right to
make it. It interfered with an inalienable natural right of mine, and
the right of my best friend to have the letters from me. If they had
said, “You must not write during school hours,” I would have seen the
sense and justice of it. My instinct rebelled against the rule and I
violated it with a clear conscience. I hate injustice and have a
contempt for the petty kind, and who has not? Tyranny is one of my
devils, man-made, however, for I have never got my faith high enough or
so low as to believe in the divine origin of the devil or any devils.
They are all so low down, that man must have begotten them.
As to the rule, I took pleasure in breaking it for it was absurd and
unjust. If they had posted up in our room “No pillow fights.” I would at
once have said, “Right you are,” for a violation of such a rule would
cause destruction of property, confusion, and no doubt the devil of
quarrel would have been born.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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