He believed - of course he believed - that Renaissance man had been best embodied in the eighteenth-century English gentleman

He believed - of course he believed - that Renaissance man had been best embodied in the eighteenth-century English gentleman, and it was this figure, standing in his library, a book in one hand, the other resting on a piece of classical sculpture, gazing out over a landscape harmoniously ordered by himself and under his guidance his tenants, in the consciousness that from time to time he would be called upon to play a part in the government of his country or its defence, and that in due course his eldest son would take his place and stand at his library window and deal with his tenants and show his visitors the improvements  - it was this figure in Sur Randolph's mind accorded so ill with striking industrial workers, screaming suffragettes, Irish terrorists, scandals on the Stock Exchange, universal suffrage.  

I. Colegate, The shooting party (1980), 108-9

But for the nation itself there would only be a change of embezzlers and a change of the hunters and the hunted

There would be nothing different in that. That would only be a continuation of the Ghanaian way of life. But here was the real change. The individual man of power now shivering, his head filled with the fear of the vengeance of those he had wronged. For him everything was going to change. And for those like him who had grown greasy and fat singing the praises of their chief, for those who had been getting them- selves ready for the enjoyment of hoped-for favors, there would be long days of pain ahead. The flatterers with their new white Mercedes cars would have to fand ways of burying old words. For those who had come directly against the old power, there would be much happiness. But for the nation itself there would only be a change of embezzlers and a change of the hunters and the hunted. A pitiful shrinking of the world from those days Teacher still looked back to, when the single mind was filled with the hopes of a whole people. A pitiful shrinking, to days when all the powerful could think of was to use the power of a whole people to fill their own paunches. Endless days, same days, stretching into the future with no end anywhere in sight.

A. Kwei Armah, The beautyful ones are not yet born (1968), 162