With his bag
of cotton gathered, the humble subject is pointed to a path through a
country infested by dangerous bands, over which he may seek a market
some hundred miles distant. In its crude state he roughs it, and
sweats it, puts it through--without a gin to give it market
value!--all the various processes of damaging during the transit, and
is surprised that India, with the best soil and climate in the world
for such an object, cannot raise a good and sufficient supply of the
raw material. What a look of pity the wretch might bestow upon the
board of directors, sitting in pompous conclave in Leadenhall street!
Happy is he, Jonathan, who, contented, knows not the things at his
hand by which his own condition may be bettered. And how blind is that
rule, which, having the power to do good, contents itself with
dragging eagerly away the first compensation. The penalty of the crime
of not developing what is given us by nature for a nation's good is
the sacrifice of a people's happiness. My friend John reluctantly
acknowledged the delinquency.
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