“For what is a
man profited, if he shall gain the whole world
and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for
At Surat, by a window of his private office in the East India Company’s factory, a middle-aged man stared out upon the broad river and the wharves below. Business in the factory had ceased for the day: clerks and porters had gone about their own affairs, and had left the great building strangely cool and empty and silent. The wharves, too, were deserted—all but one, where a Hindu sat in the shade of a pile of luggage, and the top of a boat’s mast wavered like the index of a balance above the edge of the landing-stairs.