it does not wholly justify it. Its unusual nature
makes it stand out and attract an amount of attention
which it is not entitled to. It takes hold upon
morbid imaginations and they work it up into a sort
of exhibition of cruelty, and this smirches the good
name of our civilization, whereas one of the old harsher
methods would have had no such effect because usage
has made those methods familiar to us and innocent.
In many countries we have chained the savage and starved
him to death; and this we do not care for, because
custom has inured us to it; yet a quick death by poison
is loving-kindness to it. In many countries
we have burned the savage at the stake; and this we
do not care for, because custom has inured us to it;
yet a quick death is loving-kindness to it.
In more than one country we have hunted the savage
and his little children and their mother with dogs
and guns through the woods and swamps for an afternoon’s
sport, and filled the region with happy laughter over
their sprawling and stumbling flight, and their wild
supplications for mercy; but this method we do not
mind, because custom has inured us to it; yet a quick
death by poison is loving-kindness to it. In
many countries we have taken the savage’s land
from him, and made him our slave, and lashed him every
day, and broken his pride, and made death his only
friend, and overworked him till he dropped in his
tracks; and this we do not care for, because custom
has inured us to it; yet a quick death by poison is
loving-kindness to it. In the Matabeleland today—why,
there we are confining ourselves to sanctified custom,
we Rhodes-Beit millionaires in South Africa and Dukes
in London; and nobody cares, because we are used to
the old holy customs, and all we ask is that no notice-inviting
new ones shall be intruded upon the attention of our
comfortable consciences. Mrs. Praed says of the
poisoner, “That squatter deserves to have his
name handed down to the contempt of posterity.”
I am sorry to hear her say that. I myself blame
him for one thing, and severely, but I stop there.
I blame him for, the indiscretion of introducing
a novelty which was calculated to attract attention
to our civilization. There was no occasion to
do that. It was his duty, and it is every loyal
man’s duty to protect that heritage in every
way he can; and the best way to do that is to attract
attention elsewhere. The squatter’s judgment
was bad—that is plain; but his heart was
right. He is almost the only pioneering representative
of civilization in history who has risen above the
prejudices of his caste and his heredity and tried
to introduce the element of mercy into the superior
race’s dealings with the savage. His name
is lost, and it is a pity; for it deserves to be handed
down to posterity with homage and reverence.
This paragraph is from a London journal: