They were formed about the
same time for the use of the public by men whose grandchildren have
descended to the grade of cultivators of the soil, or belted
attendants upon the present native collectors, without the means of
repairing any of the injury which time is inflicting upon these
magnificent works. Three or four young pipal-trees have begun to
spread their delicate branches and pale green leaves rustling in the
breeze from the dome of this fine temple; which these infant
Herculeses hold in their deadly grasp and doom to inevitable
destruction. Pigeons deposit the seeds of the pipal-tree, on which
they chiefly feed, in the crevices of buildings.
No Hindoo dares, and no Christian or Muhammadan will condescend, to
lop off the heads of these young trees, and if they did, it would
only put off the evil and inevitable day; for such are the vital
powers of their roots, when they have once penetrated deeply into a
building, that they will send out their branches again, cut them off
as often as you may, and carry on their internal attack with
undiminished vigour.[1] No wonder that superstition should have
consecrated this tree, delicate and beautiful as it is, to the gods.
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