eir conjugal half and if the
latter still cherishes a sincere attachment for the faithless partner in
wedlock he or she will hasten to make the other happy by giving up all
claim upon the loved one and they agree to part upon the best of terms,
as also they do when by chance they are reciprocally tired of one
another's company. The fact does not give rise to drama, tragedy or
Othello-like fury.
Now tell me under what impulse can the Sakai become a criminal?
He is honest and sincere from the kindness and indolence of his
character, because of the free life which is his, and the society of
people like himself, not because he fears being punished or has any hope
of a prize in Heaven.
Will not this strange fact induce some genius of the State to meditate
the subject, there being full proof that the alliance of Prison and Hell
does not succeed in eradicating the seeds of corruption and crime in
civilized nations?
This innate honesty of the Sakai is especially revealed in the manner he
respects whatever engagement he has, of his own accord, assumed.
Mistrustful in dealing with others, violent and apparently overmastering
from the vivacity with which he speaks and gesticulates, as soon as the
bargain is fixed he will keep it faithfully to the very letter.
In conformity with the custom that both the Sakai of the hills and his
brother of the plain have of not providing for the future, he will
consume even beforehand his share of the exchange agreed upon, but all
the same he will perform his duties towards the other with the most
scrupulous punctuality.
Many times I have intentionally left outside my cabin such articles as
would excite in the Sakais a desire of possession, but upon my return I
have always found them intact and in their right place. My habitation is
always open, even when I am far away but I have never missed a single
object.
A little from habit, a little from the virtue I have frequently
mentioned, and a little, very likely, because he is too lazy to be
otherwise, the Sakai is a just and upright man. He has a great respect
for the old, seeks their advice, and--what is much more--follows it; he
has a deep sense of gratitude, is unselfish, open-hearted and
open-handed, and ever ready to do a service to those who belong to his
own village. And this exclusiveness is one of the curious contrasts that
may sometimes be noted in human nature.
Meeting upon his road a person who is evidently suffering and
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