If an animal—even a cat, dog, or rat—lies dead on your premises, not one of the scores of servants employed will remove its carcase. A dome has to be sought ere the nuisance can be abated. The meter is the only one who will empty the slops.
The rules and regulations of caste are thoroughly well arranged, and strictly adhered to. Each caste has its guild, guild funds, charities. Indeed, in this, like in many others, “we,” the conceited civilisers of the world, are following in the footsteps of the most ancient people of the earth.
I fail to see much difference between our trades and labour unions and the “caste” of India, where one man is not allowed to do any other work than that of his “caste.” Hence the unavoidable nuisance of even the humblest paid European having to employ a dozen servants. The cook is not allowed to wash a plate or carry the meal into the parlour; the kitmugar will bring your boots to your dressing room, but his “caste” forbids him to clean them. The native clerk will copy and address a letter, but he will hand it over to the “Péon,” who alone can carry it to its destination. The “Dobbee” will wash your clothes, but you must employ a water carrier to fetch the water used in the laundry. This very interesting trade and labour union, like the “Vedic” creed, dates from an almost “pre-Adamite” period.
The longer I live, the firmer I believe that there is nothing new under the sun, and that from the beginning of the world it has been the lot of humanity to “prey” on one another. My firm belief is that as it was in the beginning it is now, and ever shall be, to the end of the chapter.
A while ago I put down my pen, thinking that I had allowed it to run too freely into very uninteresting matters. I find that the last few pages are almost as much so. Still, some of my readers may feel interested in such. Those who do not have a very easy remedy—“skip” them. “Scripta manent,” they are written; let them remain.
