Front matter (continued 2)

The learning of the Romans made but little advance, until very lately. The great Schools had some of the High-Caste within their walls; the mass of the people remained ignorant, fierce, and brutal. The laws continued to be in a most dreadful state; the prisons, foul dens of disease, cruelty and crime; the administration of Law, and disposal of offenders, savage and barbarous in the extreme.

The learning took mostly a fantastic [pa-ntsi] form—pedantic, busied with the mere shells of words, and names of things. It busied itself chiefly with the old languages of the Romans and the Greeks. A man who could repeat aloud from memory the modes of a Greek word was a man of profound learning. Of our Central Kingdom, of the wisdom and knowledge of the great East, they knew nothing; but nursed an intolerable conceit in admiration of the trivialities of their own ignorance, and by disdaining to understand a civilization of which they knew nothing—branding it as idolatrous, dark, Pagan!

Still, gradually, intercourse and larger acquaintance with the main parts, revived the love of Roman art; and the Roman civilization once more revived. Roman architecture, sculpture, learning, laws appeared. The style of public buildings, houses of the High-Castes, Bridges, took on the Roman forms. The Literati became more numerous; and, with the increasing riches, larger numbers became instructed. A long, bloody and disastrous War, which ended only a few years ago, moderated the intolerant selfishness of the Barbarians. It left them so crushed down under the weight of innumerable taxes, that it began to be seen that these interminable Wars beyond Seas, were not paid for by the gains of trade, nor by acquisitions of territory. This moderation was strengthened by the better and increasing knowledge: and Wars are not, in general, so eagerly waged.

The oldest child of a Ruler succeeds—male first, and failing him, a female. The direct descent from the eldest always succeeds, to the exclusion of the younger.

It is justly claimed that this is an element of stability; though it contains a foolish omission. For there is no recognized authority which can set aside an heir in the direct Line for however good cause. Thus the danger of a violent succession is always imminent—and of this the English history has many examples. In our Flowery Land, this danger is averted by the wise customs of the great Calao.

In my Report, I have explained at length the rules which govern in transactions with foreign tribes; and shown the maxims needful for our Illustrious, in all negotiations and dealings with the Western Barbarians. As trade (particularly by the English) is the grand object, I have pointed out how to deal in this matter, in such way as to yield no more than is convenient, nor sooner than is expedient.

The Committee who govern, preserving ancient forms, administer through them, in the name of the Sovereign. These forms assume three great divisions, one of them being two-fold: spiritual, referring to the great Superstition; and the other temporal; this is quite nominal, for the "temporalities" always touch matters spiritual in some way.

The First is the Executive.

The Second is the Parliament.

The Third is the Judicial.

The Executive—that is that which executes—has two parts. Spiritual, (the ghostly, the unknown,) performing all things concerning the Sovereign-Pope, the Temples, the worship, the Bonzes. Temporal, ordering the military forces by land and by sea, seeing that the laws are obeyed, and ruling the Hindoos and other distant peoples and settlements. Also arranging all matters with other Christ-god Barbarians, and with all foreign peoples.

The Law-making, called Parliament, or place of talking [Ba-ble]. This is the Grand Council already referred to, divided into the Upper and the Lower House, together really forming one, where all Rules and Laws are made. Here rests the Supreme Authority; and this body is controlled by the Committee, as before explained.

The Upper House is composed of Lords, who sit there in right of birth, except the Spiritual Lords, who are the great Bonzes (called Bishops) of the Superstition. Formerly, this Upper was, next after the Sovereign, most powerful, and often over-ruled, and even dethroned him. But the greater intelligence has reduced its influence, and made innoxious its mischievousness. Even its aristocraticalness could not blind the Lower House to an Imbecility inherent in its very constitution. Born Law-makers! The proportion of idiots, worn-out and selfish roués (we have no similar word), narrow caste-bound egotists, at last, wearied even its congeners, and they left to the Lords [Tchou] the ancient Forms, but deprived them of all real power. This might not have happened, but that from the very nature of things the number of Peers (as a Lord is called, who has the hereditary law-making right) who are active and young is inconsiderable; and, for the most part, these prefer out-door sports, pleasures of wealth and travel, to sitting among the elders to be snubbed for youthful inexperience. The result is that all warmth, life, and interest, all generous disinterestedness, are unknown by these venerable egotists. They are sufficiently amused with hereditary titles, with the respect shown to their rank, and with the playing at Law-making. They are too conceited to see that they are "puppets," and too small to despise the honours which conceal their insignificance. Are they not exalted above and separated from the "common-herd"? [kou-tong].

They are completely engrossed with the trivialities of their rank (High-Caste). They wait upon the Sovereign like menials, tricked out in furs, feathers, and robes, and jewelled chains, stars and garters, sparkling in gems, silk hose, and the very shoes resplendent with precious stones! On great occasions they are allowed (and this permission must come from the Sovereign) to place upon the head a golden and jewelled "circlet," named coronet. With this head-gear glittering about their brows, they receive the respectful reverence of the people, and feel a greater exaltation than the gods. "Ah," as the Barbarians say, "who would not be a Lord!"

A special Superstition attaches itself to this head-ornament. That worn by the Ruler is called a Crown. When he places it on in public, the trumpets give a mighty sound, all the people bow in humble homage, and Nature is supposed to arrest the wheels of her majestic course to join in the rapturous shouts of delight! The act is rooted in the Superstition, and one of its most cherished things.

The highest ambition of a subject is to be permitted to take Rank and wear this bauble. There is no mean service to the Ruler, no intrigue, no sacrifice which may not be done or suffered to get this privilege—the right to shine in this coronet. And such an ambition is so honourable, that success condones every contemptible thing by which it is secured. Men are blinded by the glare, and overlook the mean being below: in his Coronet he is unimpeached and unimpeachable!

Nor is this ambition confined to the Lords temporal; the High-Caste Bonzes will not be remiss in those duties to the Sovereign and to his family, in those to "Society" and to the exalted Lords, upon whom they have to attend on all occasions of baptising and marrying and feasting, to give the blessings [fihu-lsi] of the gods of the Superstition—in nothing remiss which shall help them to secure the peculiar head-gear given to those of their order whom the Sovereign raises to the lordly rank called Bishops. It is called a mitre. Ages ago, in the obscure days of the Superstition, poor and miserable, the chief Bonzes were distinguished by a head-covering like two bits of board, united or mitred together, typical of the two-fold nature of their office. Thus arose the Mitre, now a resplendent and costly bauble, more lofty than the coronets, and showing the superiority of spiritual (priestly) dignity!

In these coveted distinctions, the Sovereign finds the source of nearly all the power really enjoyed; and by an artful use and distribution of coronets and mitres, often covertly manages the machinery of government to his own wishes. An unscrupulous and able man may make himself respected! I forgot to say that another jewelled symbol of priestcraft is bestowed with the mitre, so comical that one might suspect it originated in the love of coarse humour common to the Barbarians—but its true origin was in the same early and poor days of the Superstition, when the highest Bonze was only a "Keeper of the Sheep;" that is, his duty was to keep the poor devotees together and save them from the idolatrous pagans. The Christ was said to have called his despised followers "Sheep without a shepherd," and to have requested the chief of his followers "to feed his sheep." Thus it came about that these chief men took a staff, crooked at one end (similar to that used by a veritable shepherd), as typical of their duty.

With the mitre is, therefore, handed a costly Crosier—crooked and crossed staff—to enable the Lord Bishop to pull in the wandering sheep, or to catch hold of any which may have slipt down into deep holes, or other rough places! "Fancy a Lord Bishop catching sheep!"—said a jocose Barbarian to me once.

The crowning of a new Ruler is a grand ceremony, in which all the wearers of the little crowns (coronets and mitres) attend; and no Ruler is a Ruler unless he be CROWNED, with all the superstitious rites. To this I may refer elsewhere. At present, I may mention that the history of all the Barbarians, and notably that of the English, is a story very often of the wars, assassinations, plots, and cruel deeds done to seize the Crown: for whoever could contrive to clap this thing upon his head was at once King! In the eyes of the superstitious invested with a sort of divinity! This feeling is well expressed by their greatest poet: "What a divinity doth hedge a King!" This is, doth encompass and protect a King.

When the Law-making Houses meet, the custom is for the Sovereign to attend in all his State, and open the Houses. That is, to swing open the grand doors of the Upper House for the Lords, and especially for the Lower members; who, on this occasion, are admitted to enter in and listen to the Gracious Speech. The rush of the Low-members is frightful, for the Doors are only opened for a very short time. The speech itself is nothing—merely some polite phrases as to the health and happiness of "our beloved Lords and gentlemen" (as the form is), and some Incantation to the gods of the Superstition, "on the prosperity and successful trade of our subjects." The great Lords sit like gods, effulgent, exalted; whilst the Low-members crowd like school-boys, and as rudely as school-boys, below. This is another thing by which the childish Lords are amused with a notion of power.

The present Sovereign rarely opens the Houses, but delegates some great Lords to do it for her. And the ceremony is far less. The Crown and the Crown Jewels are, therefore, so rarely seen, that the divinity of the Ruler is in danger; for the Superstitious reverence and pope-worship attaches to the Crown. These Crown Baubles are, by the present Ruler, kept imprisoned and guarded in a huge stone castle, so strong that no force but of nature can throw it down, and are cautiously shown to the admiring and dazzled few who are allowed by the guards to see them, at "a penny a-peep" (as an American Barbarian said in my ear, on the day of my seeing them). In this he referred to the fee [tin] which is exacted before admission, and which (I was told) went to the privy-purse of the Queen to buy pins. The Barbarians boast that these glittering gewgaws cost more than all the Halls of Learning!

The Judicial is the remaining great division of administration. In this the Laws are explained and applied. No law is, by this department, ever made. It has no such function. None the less, it really makes new laws, and unmakes the Statute Law (that is, the Law enacted by the great Council of Law-makers) just as it pleases. In fact the chief business of this department is to unmake the Laws, and the chief business of the Council is to make them over again. And between the two, of the making of Law there is no end, nor any possible understanding. Were not the Barbarian body and mind very tough, they would infallibly perish beneath the weight of this inscrutable and ponderous contrivance. No one is benefited by it, but the innumerable officers who manage it, and the Lawyers, who fatten upon the fees [tin-tin] which it wrings from all the unfortunates who have to attend upon it. These Lawyers form a special and very exclusive Caste; often at dispute among themselves upon points of personal concern, and as to the emoluments and offices which appertain to the Caste, but always united (and so-called Brothers) as to everything outside, by which they can more effectually conceal and mystify the nature of their order, and the more adroitly plunder the uninitiated. This is the Caste which opposes every inquiry into abuses and every attempt to reform the administration; which shouts the loudest praises to the Superstition, puts in force all the terrors of the Caste and of the Law (as by them expounded) to destroy any one who does not adore the glorious event, and declare the Constitution and the Laws, the Crown and the Altar (meaning the Superstition), the most perfect of all human wisdom—indeed, Divine. I have explained the Glorious event. To the Lawyer-Caste glorious in fees and means of plunder; in abuses which, had the reforms introduced before that event been perfected, would have been swept away; reforms which that event postponed, and the subsequent wars and civil dissensions made not only impossible, but still more difficult in the future. In another place I propose to refer to this department—the Judicial—when speaking of the Courts of Justice wherein the Laws are expounded and applied: because, as in these the daily course of the life of a people may be studied, I wish to look curiously into them. It will be readily seen, however, that for a stranger to find, beneath the thick and manifold wrappings and ponderous obscurities of the Lawyer-Caste, where Justice lies smothered, is no easy task.

The present Ruler is of the so-called glorious dynasty, and is more wise and virtuous than her ancestors, who were remarkable for obstinacy, meanness, stupidity, and debauchery. If one had a virtue, it was so misdirected by narrowness of mind as to be worse than vice. The best man of them was the most mischievous Sovereign, and the wisest thing done by any of the dynasty was to keep away from England. When they did nothing they did well; their activity was disastrous.

The Queen now reigning is esteemed by the Aristocracy because she leaves them to do as they please, and gratifies them by bestowing upon them and their devoted supporters coronets. She only demands for herself and her numerous children ample provisions; if in these she be gratified, she cares not to vex herself or her Lords by any disputes. She is very benevolent, filling the great palaces with poor relations, where they are supported—not by her. On the marriage of one of her royal children her munificence is unequalled; but she asks her devoted Lords to tax her subjects to pay for it!

Her allowances are, with wise policy, made very ample, that a splendid Court may be kept up, to give places to the aristocracy, and to gratify the love of display. In this the Lords are generous; it costs them nothing, the taxes upon the people cover the expenses. There are murmurs that the crown is never shown; that Royalty is hidden from view, and that the reverence of the people wanes; that the allowances designed and heretofore used to maintain a grand Court of respect and honour are misdirected, and get into the private pocket of Royalty for merely personal objects. But he who should dare openly to say this, unless of a very High Caste, would assuredly have his ears cropped [ku-tof.]

The reign has not been without bloody wars; one of which was to uphold a sick Turk (an outside Barbarian, who hates the very name of Christians, and calls them dogs), and whom the English Barbarians themselves despise. Yet, they rushed with great ships and armed bands to attack another Christ-god tribe, who threatened the sick Turkish chief; because, as they thought, their trade was best secured by helping the Turk! This foolish war cost thousands of the lives of the English sailors and armed bands, but what is far more consequential to the Barbarians, many millions [li-re] of gold. It ended in nothing at all; for the great tribe which lost in the war some ships and some forts, taken by the English, have now rebuilt them more strongly than before, and again threaten the sick Turk more than ever!

When the American Barbarians had a domestic contention—some of them wishing to deliver a poor people held in slavery, by a custom in some of their provinces, from the cruel wrong—the English Barbarians sided with those who wished to keep the slaves. They did this notwithstanding that always before they had almost quarrelled with the American tribes for allowing this very thing! Now, however, because they did not like to have that people great in ships, and because they thought it would be safer for them and better for their trade, to have the American tribes broken to pieces, insidiously aided those who fought to hold the slaves, in every way they could without open war. But the slave-holding tribes were overpowered, and the slaves set free. Presently, the American Barbarians demanded that they should be repaid some of the monies which this treacherous conduct had cost them—the lives could not be repaid. The English Barbarians, fearing the American tribes—very valiant, and having many ships—finally submitted to pay a heavy penalty for their wrong doing!

Lately, also, the English Barbarians have stood silent and seen another tribe on the Main Land (which aided them just before in the War for the Turk, and, in fact, saved them from being shamefully beaten) completely overthrown and mercilessly sacked by another tribe—when a kindly word would have saved great suffering. But it does not displease the English Barbarians to see another tribe weakened—and their trade was not touched in this war—in fact, perhaps they had more to gain by pleasing the strong tribe which came out victorious.

The English themselves complain that, lately, they have not distinguished themselves by their usual glorious expeditions; that their war-ships and their fierce warriors are getting out of use, and that the late Committee of Government, made the name of England inglorious. This feeling at length got possession of the Lower House, and a new Committee appeared. These say that the attempt to carry on affairs with other tribes, upon the moral rules of the Christ-god worship, although the tribes are devotees, is absurd. That the late Committee, who had some slight notion of correct moral precepts, and thought possibly one might venture to trust the Sovereign Lord of Heaven, were peace-at-any-price men, milksops (a term of reproach equivalent to milkmaids) [kin-e-suk], and that, in their hands, the English Lion had been muzzled—made an object of contempt! (This blood-thirsty beast is the admired symbol of English power.)

This new Committee are pledged to seize the very first occasion which may offer to exhibit the British. Lion (as he is styled) with his muzzle off, his claws sharpened, and his frame well fed and strong. The taxes are raised and the most exact attention is devoted to all needful things to perfect this beast to the standard of his ancient might. And the present Government—Committee—watch with keen eyes for that opportunity, when they shall suddenly let spring this monster! It is supposed that the angry growl [heuien-ro] will sufficiently alarm; if not, the terrific roar [Zuung-luu] cannot fail! The only drawback to this ferocious pastime will be found in those members of the Lower House, who, themselves bearing a good weight of taxes without the emoluments of office, may oppose the majority and reduce the arrogancy of its temper. None the less, in the present brutal conceit of the Lower House and of the lower orders, a war may at any moment break out, if for no other purpose than to show other Barbarians that the British Lion is still a Lion in full vigour! The idea of a dull, toothless, blind old brute, which even a jackass (as one of the Barbarian fables has it) may kick with impunity, is too intolerable!

The morality of the present Loyal Court is said to be admirable—when you can once find the Royal residence. But this is quite a myth. There is, in this reign, no Loyal Court, only a domestic circle—a Royal Family—not kept up with so much splendour as some of the homes of the High-Caste. It is said that no suitor of an improper moral colour may approach any Princess, unless he be a cousin of the Queen, when the blood sanctifies the taint, and all is clean. If a real cousin be not of these suitors, one as nearly related among the poverty-stricken princes of the Barbarians from the Main Land as can be had, is selected. He must profess to worship the great Superstition of the English Sect, and detest the Roman Pope—at least, in public. His poverty is no objection—that is more than counterbalanced by the Illustrious obscurity of his race—that is, some family which ages ago contrived to live by plunder, and by making itself safe within the walls of stone castles, among steep rocks and hills. A family whose descendants feel more pride in these, now, old and ruinous wrecks of former insolence, than in any other possession—and whose alliance is acceptable to the English Queen! The poverty of these petty chiefs is, however, removed; nor do they marry a Princess of the English Queen unless they be paid for it. It is not the Queen who pays; the occasion is seized upon to obtain that provision to which I have referred.

And the paltry chief, and his new, royal bride, know poverty no more; they, and their children, and children's children, are provided for by the Lower House, who tax the people for this privilege, so much valued by them!—this privilege of succouring and enriching the worn out, useless and decaying chiefs of foreign Barbarians, who have any, the remotest, trace of kinship to the Royal House of England!

The more considerable events, therefore, in the present reign, as the Barbarians think, have reference to these marriages of Royal Princesses, births, christenings (baptizings), deaths, and the like among them. The Low-House readily takes these opportunities to profess its homage and devotion. The Queen follows the Sacred Writings with great exactness, which commands "take care of those of your own blood"—indeed, her devotion to this precept is, perhaps, more noticeable than her devotion in general.

Her Illustrious presence is rarely known among the people. When she does appear, she is hardly more than respectfully and silently worshipped. She does not attract the love of the people—though she is (as a sly Barbarian youth of the Low-Castes once said to me, sarcastically), very dear [chean]. (A pun [phu-nsi] on the word; which may mean beloved, or very costly).

When, as rarely happens, to honour some Show wherein the Royal presence may bring money to a Charity, the Queen appears, surrounded by Royal guards, and in State, there is always to be seen a gigantic servant, dressed in the scarlet of the Royal household, seated immediately behind the Sacred Person, to watch over and rescue her from any danger. His body and mighty strength are always ready to be interposed! This favourite servant, it is said, assists her Illustrious, when, among the hills of the Far North, she visits the great, high rocks, and climbs the sides of mountains—his strength is so ready, trusty, and invaluable!

To her, and to her subjects, a great loss was inflicted when Death destroyed the youthful Consort of the Queen, when she was still young. He was one of ancient family among the petty Barbarian chiefs to whom I have referred; was near in blood to the Queen, and by her greatly beloved, it is said. He was never allowed any power in the State, and was a subject of the Queen, though her husband. It is whispered that he did not quietly submit to this condition of things—but it would not be worth the notice of a wise man to attend to this gossip. I could never learn that he was of any use; but, none the less, the Barbarians exalt him very highly, and have built lofty monuments to his honour. I said use—I forgot—he gave a very numerous brood of princes and princesses to the English Barbarians. Of these they are very proud—not because they do, or can ever do, anything useful, but because it adds to the number of the High-Castes, and around them very many poor members of that caste can cluster, and live upon the cast-off clothes and other second-hand things of these exalted!

On the whole, we may desire the long continuance of Her Illustrious' reign. If her will were law, distant plunderings would cease; and her influence is better than may generally be looked for. She cannot prevent, but she may moderate those expeditions despatched to subjugate the Heathen, extend trade, and bring under the dominion and worship of the Christ-god distant tribes. Great guns, fire-arms, gunpowder, and a poisonous liquor called Rum, would, perhaps, under other sovereigns, even more frequently be sent to prepare the way for the Prince of Peace (as the Christ-god is often styled).

Some respect for Justice and some regard to the rights of others have been shown under the influence of this Illustrious; but, as we have seen, this, the most honourable distinction of the present reign, is likely to be obliterated. The old predatory instinct of the English Barbarians again comes uppermost, and though caution and fear of taxes may make the Committee of Government tardy and unwilling to attack (unless some weak tribe, where victory would be sure and its glory conspicuous), yet, such is the prevailing temper, that blood-letting seems needful to cool those fierce and haughty Barbarians.

A ferocious war may be looked for; nor is it by any means incredible that the war-ships of these Christ-god worshippers and their murdering bands should again be directed against our peaceful Central Kingdom!

CHAPTER III.

SOME PARTICULARS OF THE INTERNAL ADMINISTRATION.

The whole country is divided into districts, in general governed, like our Provinces, in the Sovereign's name, by viceroys and governors.

The heir to the Crown, if he be the son of the reigning Ruler, is Prince of Wales—a title bestowed upon his eldest son by an ancient king; and which, at the time, gave the administration of that Province to this son. The eldest son of the Queen now enjoys with this title also that of Duke of Cornwall. These lofty designations confer no power, although they carry with them high distinction and great revenues.

The Aristocracy in the case of the heir, as in that of the Sovereign, watch jealously anything which looks like intellect. They do not stint personal respect and ample revenues, but take care that upon coming to the Crown, the new Sovereign shall be a "puppet."

He is, whilst heir, not allowed to take any kind of share in government, but is surrounded by flatterers, flunkeys [pluc-ngi], idle young people of both sexes, and, from mere want of useful business, falls into every sort of sport and pleasure. He must, indeed, be strong in morality and in character, if, upon coming to his high office, he be not reduced to the selfish imbecile and puppet, desired by the High-Caste. Lucky if he have not become absolutely contemptible by his vices!

Ireland is governed by a High Viceroy, whose chief employment is to amuse the Irish with shows—the real power being in the hands of the General of the armed bands. Anciently, the Provinces were administered by Vice-roys, who possessed authority; but the pettiness of the Island and swiftness of communication have now concentrated all actual administration at the Capital city. The Provincial governors, however, keep up some show of the ancient order, and, nominally, command the Provincial Militia. This is a merely nominal force, composed of butcher-boys, farmer-lads and the like, who do not know how to handle a fire-arm, nor how to fight, unless in the Barbarian pastime of the Ring: a combat wherein the young Barbarians, two being pitted against each other, try each to hit the other a terrible blow directly in the eye. This, done with the hand doubled up, nearly destroys that organ. He is victor who succeeds in hitting both eyes of his antagonist, and fairly blinding him! This, a common and admired sport, is greatly esteemed by the English Barbarians, and considered an admirable training. It develops the ferocity and brutality required to make good soldiers (plunderers), and the powers of endurance indispensable in the distant forays. Even in the Halls of Learning, it is thought to be a manly science, fitting the young Aristocracy to match any man in personal conflict, and enabling him to be self-possessed and ready to fight his way through the world. As, in general, the lowest orders are badly fed and reduced in strength, and, though well used to brutal fights, yet are not trained to the Science, the young Aristocrat is expected "to pummel the brute" upon the slightest occasion of disrespect.

The provincial Magistracy are mainly employed in keeping the Lower-Castes in order, and especially in punishing trespasses upon the lands, or upon the convenience of the Higher-Castes. The most common form of trespass is that called Poaching. The High-Castes own all the lands, and the Low-Castes, who till the soil, are the ancient slaves—slaves no longer under any law, but nearly as much so by custom. Very poor, but little better than beggars, and really beggars in large numbers, and hungry, the temptation to knock over the abundant nearly tame creatures (birds, fowls, hares, and the like) everywhere around them in the fields and copses, is too strong to be resisted. To do this is to be a Poacher—a criminal most detested by the High-Caste; for he presumes to think, in some cases, that the right in these free creatures is not absolutely vested in the High-Castes. Yet this sort of property is most rigidly preserved, by the penalties of severe punishment, to the use of the High-Caste—for his sport in the shooting of them, rather than for food. The Poacher, who is merely tempted by hunger, and who abjectly begs pity and promises reformation, escapes in some instances lightly; but he who presumes to question the right to this wholesale appropriation feels the full wrath of the Law.

Petty civil and criminal offences may be tried by the Provincial Magistracy; subject, however, in cases involving any interests of importance, to revision at the Capital.

There is a sort of Provincial (and yet Metropolitan) Court called Convocation [Kal-ti-se]. In this, things touching the Christ-god Superstition are determined. If a Bonze has not worn, or has worn improperly, his neck-tie, or his surplice [ro-bsi]; if the table before the Altar (Idol) has been placed out of square; for things of this sort—or if a Bonze be accused of departing from the ordered rendering of some word in the Sacred Writings, or of having said something contrary to the orders of Convocation or of the rites—for these and other things respecting the great Idolatry, Convocation sits. It is composed of High Bonzes and a few delegates of High-Caste devotees, whose duty is merely to ratify the decisions of the High Bonzes—these regulate everything.

This High and Lofty Court was anciently styled Star Chamber, because exalted above mere mortal interests, and only concerned with the preservation of the Idolatry. Formerly it worshipped the Sovereign as Pope of the Superstition more devotedly than is the fashion at present, and burnt people to death for refusing to do so. Now it refrains from this severity, and is content (or tries to be) with depriving a Bonze who doubts, of his living, and all honours and emoluments.

It still convenes in the old hall of its former glory. A venerable moss-covered pile, vast and gloomy, with lofty towers and turrets of rock, with hewn cells and deep dungeons. Here may be seen, fixed to the rock, the rings and chains, worn and rusty with age, where the victims of superstition suffered beneath the decrees of this ancient Court. Slow and proud, along the dark stone corridors, and beneath the dusky arches of this great prison-palace, the High Bonzes and the devotees walk in state. Ushered with pompous ceremonial, and with the grand incantations to the gods and devils of the Superstition, into the lofty and obscure hall of the Star-Chamber, the Convocation sits. In deep alcoves around are stored the ponderous volumes, containing all the mysteries and terrors of the Superstition. In these are the horrid imaginings of fanatical Priests and devotees; the dogmas and canons of the Superstition; the dreadful arsenal, whence were drawn those frightful weapons of superstitious terror, whence issued the chains and bolts, and scourges, the faggots and the flames. One hears the groans of the tortured, the steps of the jailers, the clashing of the chains, when, in these long and resounding aisles and arches, the winds moan, the distant footsteps fall, or the old casements in the ruinous towers shake and rattle.

Nor is the arsenal wholly useless now; the weapons are not all rusty; anathemas may yet be found to terrify, and restraints to punish. Heresy [pho-phi], as any doubt concerning the Queen-pope and the Superstition is called, drives the culprit from Society, deprives the Bonze of all preferment, of his employment, and turns him ignominiously adrift, to live or to starve.

Convocation watches over the Sacred Writings, to see that no change, not so much as of a syllable, be made; not trusting to Jah, who may have himself, perhaps, grown indifferent to the matter. A curious thing, showing how irrationally men will act in respect of an irrational system. For the notion is that this Word of Jah (the Sacred Writings), being his Revelation (Word), have always been by Him exactly preserved through all the ages and the changes of languages, and of transcription, and of everything to this hour. Why is it to be supposed, then, that He will suddenly lose his power to preserve, or will be indifferent to preserve?

Punishments in the ordinary Courts are not very remarkable, only there is one so characteristic of the English, so comically barbarous, that I will try to describe it.

The offender is stripped naked to the waist, tied up with his hands widely extended, and with his face to a strong post; then a man takes a large strong cat, kept hungry and savage for the purpose, and placing the creature at the back of the neck, draws it forcibly down the naked back. Of course the cat holds on with teeth and claws. This is repeated till the culprit faints, when the cat is removed. The back of the man is washed with vinegar and salt, and he revives, perhaps to undergo the infliction again. This astonishing mode of correcting offenders is called flogging with the cat.

I may also make a remark upon another feature of criminal punishment. The crime of treason, not only insures the death, but the horrid mutilation of the culprit; and, not satisfied with this, reaches to the innocent wife and children. All the estates, titles, honours, properties of the offender are sequestrated to the State, and his blood is attainted; that is, made incapable of giving honour and employment to his offspring! Thus the innocent are disgraced, and reduced, not merely to beggary, but, as far as possible, placed in a condition of hopeless misery!

The Idolatry and Sacred Writings are, no doubt, responsible for this impolitic injustice and cruelty. For Jah is constantly made by the Priests to say, that he visits the sins of the father upon his child even to the tenth generation! A natural development of the moral sense would fall short of this vindictiveness; and in this false and horrible wrath, taught in their Sacred Writings, the fierce Barbarians are encouraged to outdo themselves!

The greatest of all the Courts, and which chiefly controls the others, is the High and Mighty Court of Chancery. It has many names—as Court of Equity, of the King's Conscience, and others—assuming as many styles and jurisdictions as the ancient Proteus of Egypt; who, as the Priests said, could take any form, or no form, be fire, or cloud, or invisible air. So this Court, feared by the Barbarians with a paralyzing dread, takes on any shape! It stands for the King's conscience—which, as the conscience of a Pope-king, must be a doubly divine thing. For, as remarked elsewhere, "Divinity doth hedge a King!" We, I think, should fear that this conscience would be as uncertain as the man. Its function is, therefore, to decide with Equity; to relieve against the inexorable hardness of the ancient rules; and give relief in cases of mistake, accident, and fraud. This looks admirable, but it is all sham (phu-dgi).

Not the least attention is really paid to equity, but only to the decrees of the Court as recorded. A Suitor petitions for redress. The petition is not examined to be determined upon the matters therein stated. First—The Petition must be in all respects in due form, according to the recorded rules. Second—The matter of it must be such as the Court will consider, and such as may come before the Court. Third—Are the Parties in the Jurisdiction, and are all the parties who may be interested, duly notified and present; or, if not present, accounted for. Fourth—Are the matters for the Court only, or must it be assisted by some petty judges to ascertain the facts. Fifth—The petition being at last before the Judge, he may not look into it, unless the Lawyers look into it with him; and, then, no opinion (decree) can be given until the Records are fully examined, to discover if anything of the sort has been relieved. If a similar case be found, then the petitioner is called upon to prove his case as stated in his petition; and, if he fail to prove his exact case (though he may make a stronger show for relief), he is ordered out of Court, and condemned to heavy costs (tin-tin). If the case be proved, then the Judge reserves his judgment. For he must very carefully compare all the cases, examine all the voluminous Records, besides examining the innumerable Papers which have grown up around the Petition during all the proceedings (often spreading over many years), before he dare to order the recording of his decree. For, this done, he has added another Case to the King's conscience; that is, to the highest form of Law and of human Justice!

He dare not do this unless justified by the Records; interminable, stretching backwards to the first King who pretended to have a conscience; obscure, contradictory—he dare not unless justified by the Records—Precedents. If he mistake, grossly, he will be certain to be called to account by the Lawyer-Caste, who make a business of seeking for discrepancies; in fact, he is bewildered—not by the case; that is simple, or was originally, simple enough; but, by the arguments of the Lawyers, the documents overlying and enveloping the case, and by the difficulty of deciding according to the Precedents. Could he merely announce his own judgment, there is no difficulty—but that is the last thing to be thought of—in truth, if reduced to that, he is bound to refuse any relief, however clear it is that equity requires it!

Thus the Judge, old and wearied; a man tottering over his grave, feeble, irresolute, takes the course which maybe looked for—and postpones, and postpones; other like cases accumulate on his hands; he dismisses some, "reserves" others, refers to another judge what he can decently, decides none! Or only those which are petty, or those which are really unopposed, or those exciting no interest.

Meantime, the parties to the Petition are dead, or absconded, or beggared. Years have elapsed; all parties are worn out or impoverished by the enormous expenses—at length, there is no one to pay Lawyers and the Court Officers—the thing lapses—dies. Term after Term (as Sessions of the Court are called), the Case is called. Some poor wretch struggles still to save something of the property tied up in the Court by the Case—he tries to call up from the mass of dusty and forgotten Records, a reminiscence of the lost Petition. In vain—the thing is a wreck, and has wrecked its builders!

The Case lies forgotten amid the interminable processes, affidavits, answers, pleas, replications, rejoinders, motions, applications, notices, subpœnas, summonses, commissions, bills of amendments, and of supplement; documents of all sorts, making up the Case, mouldering away in the stone alcoves of the huge Records; as the poor victims of it lie mouldering in similar forgetfulness! Not, however, without profit to the Lawyer-Caste; for some miscreant of this profession, perchance, discovering the Case, in his searches after means of spoil, sees how he may gain by it. He knows of an estate remotely touched by the matter of the old and forgotten Petition, and he knows quite well that there is really nothing affecting the property; yet, he sees fees and spoil. It is merely to frighten the possessor of the estate by an intimation of a defect of title, and refer to this old Case, never decided. The bandit [khe-te] sets in motion the machinery of the High Court of Chancery. One of its officers summonses the poor man to come into that Court, and answer to the allegations touching his right to possess the house in which, perhaps, he has lived for twenty years! and lived without objection from any source!

Now it does not matter at all that there is no sort of ground for this attack; the moment it is made, the title of the poor unoffending man to his own house is ruined—almost as completely as if by the sentence of the Court he had been deprived of it. The robber who attacks wishes merely to force the owner of the house to buy him off. To secure this spoil he records his summons in the Court, and from that moment no one will buy the house, nor will any one lend any money upon the security of it until that record be removed. If the victim of this oppression be in debt, or have but little money, or but little more than his house, or if he have borrowed money upon his house—in fact, unless he be a man quite rich, he is inevitably ruined! He is ruined, because the lawyer has, by the Record, practically deprived him of his estate. And this is done by a Petition to the Court, making allegations artfully and untrue. Yet, as they are not supported by any sort of evidence, and are merely bare insinuations often of anybody—it does not the least matter—is it not inconceivable that such a thing should be allowed? That merely upon the Record of a Petition, without any evidence, without any character, without any surety for its truth, without any, the least, inquiry, or any, the smallest deposit in Court to cover the expenses to which the summoned party may be put, should it appear he has been wrongfully summoned—this great injustice may be perpetrated, and perpetrated without risk of any punishment! "But surely the Court will immediately dismiss this iniquitous case?" Not at all; the Court cannot be reached; all the endless proceedings and delays already mentioned intervene. The fees and expenses are enormous—the decision far off. The victim cannot get a hearing. He borrows money and employs lawyers—in vain. He can do no more—he is bankrupt. The lawyer who has ruined him gets nothing in such a case, because the victim prefers poverty to gratifying the robber. He gets nothing, because he has no real case, and drops it as soon as he sees he can make nothing out of it. Should the party be very rich upon whom the robbery is attempted, he may fight it out and finally clear his property, and get a decree for some costs (only a portion) against the other party. But this decree is worthless; the party has no property and cannot pay. He has fought for luck, having nothing to lose, but all to gain.

Usually, however, as the Lawyer well knows, the party attacked will hurry to buy off the suit!

In this way, old Causes are Mines, which the Lawyer-Caste work to their own peculiar advantage. They have every facility, both from their experience and from the usages of the Caste. The very Judges of the Courts are of the same Caste, and give every assistance in matters of forms, continuances, motions, dilatory proceedings, and the countless processes by which Lawyers make fees and their clients are robbed.

Thus the Court of Equity, with a mocking irony, becomes a Court of Iniquity! and the very tribunal designed to do more perfect Justice is perverted to the most scandalous use—made an engine the most oppressive and destructive ever contrived for the misery of Society, short of one invented to destroy it wholly!

The Court was originally organised by Priests who had acquired the Roman learning, or some tincture of it, and endeavoured to strengthen their own Class, and to soften the barbarous harshness of the common Law, by erecting this Court. The laws of the Barbarians were savage, in civil as well as in criminal things; and the Priests, more cultured, endeavoured to soften and temper this harshness, or, at any rate, to get more complete control by it. They formed it, and administered it at first, and for a long time. But the Lawyer-Caste have now its administration, and they have not so much respect for the opinions of the general public as had the Priests, and have made the Court a bye-word and a shame [Kri-mi]!

The expenses and fees are beyond belief. A Lawyer who gets one good Chancery Case into his hands, lives upon it luxuriously. I was once shown a Bill of Costs, as these items of fees are styled.

I observed that one would be charged for a thing done and for the same thing not done—in other words, for the doing and for the not-doing. Thus, if one requests a thing be done, the Lawyer will charge for "receiving instructions," "for reducing the same to writing," "for instructing a clerk," and the like—then, having sent away the clerk on another matter, he will charge for taking new instructions and going over the same ground again. Thus, actually charging for the delay and obstruction caused in the affair.

Again, if you ask a Lawyer something, he will presently say, "I must take counsel," meaning he wishes to ask another Lawyer. When the Bill is examined you will find, say, "for being asked and not knowing, 6s. 8d.; for taking your instructions to counsel, 6s. 8d.; for attending upon counsel, £1 1s.; for fair copy made for him, £2 2s.;" and so on. Your simply unanswered question has thus served the following purposes:—If it had been answered at once the fee would have been, say, 6s. 8d.; but as it was not, but carried elsewhere, it has given the first Lawyer five times more of fees, and his brother in the Caste also a handsome sum! One may judge how ignorant the first Lawyer will be likely to be, and how often he finds it convenient to help his higher Caste brother, especially when in helping him he so greatly helps himself! We have some cunning rogues in our Central Kingdom, but such astuteness as this is beyond them!

I once visited this tribunal of Chancery to witness the proceedings—but they are so dull and prolix as to drive one away as soon as possible. The presiding Judge, and all the High-Caste Lawyers, wear wigs and gowns. The lower Lawyers, who are called Solicitors, sit in a sort of well, below and at the feet of the High, and have no badge of distinction. In fact, they are not respected, and only tolerated by the bigwigs (as the High Lawyers are often called) as the jackals who provide them with prey. They immediately act in matters with the victims of the Court, and do all the dirty work, extracting the fees, and the like—the High Lawyers taking the most of the plunder, although, for decency sake, they will not see the victims of their rapacity if they can help it.

The wigs spoken of are very absurd, and make the wearers seem to be engaged in masquerading, or fooling. (We have no term corresponding to the former.) The lappets of thick hair come down over the ears of the Judge, to enable him (as it occurred to me) to take his nap [qu-iz] with less danger of being disturbed.

No one can be a Judge, nor a High-Caste Lawyer, who does not wear the wig. It has a funny appendage behind, like a pig's tail, exactly fitting to fall upon the small of the neck; and is itself a curiously curled "frizzle" of horsehair, selected for uniformity of whitish colour. There is something cabalistic in this thing, which is carefully hidden from the outside world.

If a Judge take it off, all business immediately stops. A Lawyer instantly loses his power of speech if his wig fall off. It was told me in confidence, that the tail (like that of swine) had a peculiar significance, to say; the utter selfishness of the Caste and greed—another whispered a darker thing, referred to the Devil of the Superstition: that, anciently, this Caste struck a bargain with the Demon, and he made it obligatory upon the Lawyers always to wear this chief sign of diabolism! This may be merely the chaff [pti-ni] of these Barbarians. At any rate, something occult is attached to the thing; and a curious respect is shown to it, mixed of fear and contempt, even by outsiders.

The Judge sits so highly exalted, as to be out of the way of hearing the passages occurring among the Lawyers. He is generally half-blind, half-deaf; quite worn out with age, and the ceaseless wretchedness of his Court and the Lawyers, and incapable of vigorously dealing with anything. In this Court the most imbecile is most fit; for nothing is expected but imbecility (so far as the public is concerned), and fees for Officers and Lawyers.

When a Case is on, the Lawyers begin to talk, and to read from the big books, on one side, and then on the other. Neither tries to get at the truth, but each in turn does his best to mislead the Judge. Both read from the interminable and conflicting Records, and both find ample records which fit the precise Case, which each contends for. The poor old Judge, now and again, takes a note of these quotations from the Big Books of records—for he is to decide not upon the equity but upon the records, as we have seen. By the time he has found his spectacles [Qu-iei] he has forgotten the Book, the number, the Recorder's name, and the many other things, needful to find where the record is, and when he is again told, lifting up his wig-pallet, he only hears imperfectly, and mistakes. So, when, perhaps a long time after, he tries to make up a decree to fit the Case, the record to which he turns refers to nothing in the world like what was intended!

Hour after hour, and sometimes day after day, these speeches of the Lawyers go on. For the longer the talk the larger the fees—nobody thinks of Justice! The old Judge understands the trick of the farce going on, perfectly well; in his younger days he was famous for his skill in all the arts of the High-Caste Lawyers, and obtained his present position on that account, and because others wanted to get a formidable rival out of the way; he understands how very little (but fees) is involved in the endless talk and reading, and begins to nod—even, the gods would nod. The Lawyer observes, stops a bit; the unexpected silence awakens the wearied old man—he opens his watery, blinking eyes, fumbles his papers, or takes a pinch of snuff, and says: "Go on, brother Bounce, I'm with you"—meaning he is attending to him; and soon falls asleep again.

Perhaps one of the talking Lawyers is of the High Q.C. I am told that such is the dread of this Lawyer-Caste, that the Sovereign constantly flatters the tribe, and gives to them the fattest [phig-sti] offices. All Judges and the Keeper of the Sovereign's Conscience—this Court—and a great many other most important places, and exaltation to the Highest Caste of Lords [Tchou], falls to them by established rule—in truth, the Caste is chief in the Law-making Houses, and, consequently, in Government itself. The Q.C. is, however, a thing done to many who cannot, as yet, get fees from the public treasure, that they may get them from out-siders more amply. The right to attach these symbols to the name of Lawyer also gives him a silk gown (during the present reign) worked by the sacred hands of Royalty itself! The honoured wearer of this is a Q.C.—that is, Queen's Champion—and binds all its wearers to defend the Sacred Head (Pope) of the Superstition from the machinations of the Evil One, and those of their own order who, sold to the Devil, may possibly be put up by him to plot mischief, not only against the general outside world, but against "Crown and Altar!"

Perhaps, after days of this weary work, one of the Lawyers suddenly discovers that somebody, or something required in the intricate and dubious processes, is wanting; or in some document some erasure is detected; or something to hang a point upon is seized hold of—and at once a wrangle between the Lawyers ensues. The Judge fairly awakes; the whole case breaks down [kei-tz-se]; and everybody, but the poor victims in the case, anticipate more fees. The victims, however, who have already beggared themselves in it, suddenly despair; perhaps the case never again comes on, and the property involved in it wastes away in dark obscurity beneath the gnawing rats, which infest the Court.

Sometimes (as I was told) some poor man, or woman, who had scraped together the last farthings to pay the Lawyers (for they will in no wise act unless paid beforehand, feeling that such service as they render is not likely to be gratefully recompensed, and it being the severest rule of the order never to show any pity for outsiders), being in Court when they see all hope destroyed, and themselves and their children beggared, have fallen down and been carried out of Court with reason for ever gone; or with such a deadly blow that never more do they revive, but soon die, and are buried at the public charge!

You will see wretched creatures trying to look decent in well-brushed rags, darned and patched, with shoes through which the toes protrude, but over which the blacking [di-yte] is carefully smeared—you will see these victims of the Court, like ghosts, flitting about the passages, and watching for the entry of the Judge. One will attempt to address him—but he is conveniently deaf. He knows the victim is there, and though a party may speak, has the right to speak for himself, and the Judge is bound to hear, yet, such a thing is unknown. The mysteries of the Court deny to any sane man the attempt. These poor creatures are insane—or, what answers just as well, have been branded by the Lawyers as Insane. So the miserable wretch, trembling, raises his voice, "My Lud" (meaning my Lord), "My Lud;" here the Court-officer cries out Silence; or, if the man be, for the first time, attempting to call attention to his case, by the time he has got so far as to fairly say "My Lud!" what with the jeering looks of the Lawyers, his own ignorance of the mysteries, and his wretchedness, he either completely breaks down—or if the Judge, seeing a new face, asks him to "go on"—almost at once perceives that the man is only a "poor ruined suitor," and is entirely out of order, and cannot be heard! He says: "You must sit down. Case Hoggs v. Piggs is in order. Mr. Clerk call Hoggs and Piggs." Thus "My Lud" will be as far as any "poor ruined suitor will ever get!"

Besides the numerous, worse than useless, idlers (Lawyers) who fatten upon the industry of others, and the loss inflicted by their voracity and by the other expenses, this Court devastates upon a scale beyond belief. I was told by an English Barbarian that he once tried to obtain one thousand of money from the Court, which the lawyers said there would be no difficulty in getting, as it was clearly his; it would be only a matter of form, possibly some delay. "Well," said he to me, "I instructed my lawyer to go to the Court and get the money. He demanded fifty pounds to cover fees [tin]. To make a short story, he went to the Court, but I never got any money! After I had actually paid in fees more than half of the one thousand, the obstacles had grown to be so insurmountable that I merely dropped the matter." "But," I said, "the thousand—who has that?" "Oh, it is in the Court of Chancery!"

Another honest Barbarian told me that he had spent all his life (he was sixty) studying and endeavouring to awaken attention to the abuses of this Court—but in vain. The attempt seemed hopeless. The Court was entrenched in the very frame of the body politic, and nothing but reconstruction would answer; and that reconstruction is probably only possible after first demolishing!

This man said that a prodigious sum—sixty millions of English money—was directly locked up; and that of property of all sorts, subject to the clutch or injured by the processes of the Court it was incalculable, and, very likely, would represent a tenth of all the valuables in the whole Kingdom!

In my walks and in my travels, sometimes in the city, I would notice many houses, with windows smashed out, the walls tottering, the doors hanging loosely, or wholly gone, the approaches filthy, the whole place a nuisance, injuring and depopulating all about it, or filling the ever-spreading mischief with the vilest population. I have asked an explanation—"Oh, it is in Chancery." In the midst of a village, suddenly one comes upon a vacant space; it is an abomination; everything near catches the infection, all that portion of an otherwise pretty place becomes a nuisance. The character of the village at length suffers; it becomes known as a place ruined by the Court of Chancery. In fine, whenever one sees a wrecked building, or any property marked by neglect and verging to total destruction, the explanation is: "It is in Chancery." And the same thing is often said of ruined men and women: "Oh, they have lost everything in the Court of Chancery!"

To such an extent is the destruction of the Court carried, that the Law-making Houses are forced to interfere, or perhaps the Officers of Health. These may abate a nuisance, and sometimes mere filth and indecencies are removed. But nobody will improve a property to which he cannot have a certain and quiet possession. Therefore, when the evil becomes intolerable, the Law-making Houses make a Law by which a property of this sort is sold, under their guarantee that the buyer shall have perfect possession. This is a thing next to an impossibility; and nothing less than a great public evil too great to be endured, will ever induce the Lawyers who control the Houses to interfere with the legitimate work of the Court.

It is wonderful that the English Barbarians submit to this Court; but one must consider that, after all, it is not so inconsistent with Barbarian habits as it at first sight looks. Plunder is natural to all the tribes, and especially to the English. As nearly all plunder, the thing is normal. Lawyers must live; and the common English Barbarian makes a business to keep out of their hands. The Higher Castes enjoy so large a share of the gains, and are, in fact, so largely interested in preserving the Court, that they do not care to move. Then, to other causes, must be added the stolid conceit of the English Barbarians, who really think everything English so much better than what can be found elsewhere, that, in respect of this very Court, admitting some abuses, yet, after all, "Where else can you find such Judges—men who cannot be bribed?"

On the whole, therefore, with that conceited stolidity of character, more remarkable in the English than in any other Barbarians, they come to regard even the worst of their institutions as better than the best of the rest of the world!

CHAPTER IV.

UPON EDUCATION: A FEW REFLECTIONS.

In our Illustrious and Central Kingdom, from times long before the Barbarians beyond the great Seas existed, or, at any rate, had any name or place in the earliest records, it has been the established rule that Learning (Li-te-su) should be the fountain of honour—that there is no nobility of birth. Under the Illustrious, the Son of Heaven, all were equal subjects—children—and that which made one more distinguished than another was Wisdom. This Wisdom, a knowledge of men and things; of the proper maxims [ri-te-es] of morality and government, and their proper application to human affairs. The Central idea was to know oneself, and thus to know others—to add to this, technical knowledge, and the knowledge of our Illustrious annals and customs.

The mandarins, great officers of our Illustrious, have no rights of birth. According to their class in the Schools of Examination, they are selected to advise, to administer, to govern in the Provinces, and order the forces for the keeping of due order. They rank in the degree of the excellency of their registration in the great Schools of Examination.

But it is very different with the Western Barbarians, where birth gives a right to exalted place in Government! Power, among the English, is wholly in the hands of this hereditary class—called Nobility—elsewhere called Aristocracy [Fo-hi]. Thus, learning has been unimportant, unless as a sort of accomplishment; and been mostly confined to Priests. With them, it was a means of increased influence, and added to the effect of the Superstitious pretensions. Force and fraud being the main agents of Government and sources of distinction, learning was not merely disregarded, but held in contempt by the High-Caste. What learning there was (chiefly confined to the Priests), busied itself with the Superstition, and with the ancient tongues; because with these Superstition had its literary roots.

Still, some grew more inquisitive, especially outside the Priestly order, and learning made some progress. Gradually, there emerged from the Halls of Learning, rules, which (countenanced by some Sovereigns), began to influence Society. For Sovereigns, and the High-Caste, had begun, in some measure, to affect a liking for learning—confined, however, almost wholly to the narrow range referred to. These rules were in fact DEGREES; which conferred upon the possessor a Literary distinction.

The Halls of Learning, which had been in good measure established by Sovereigns, out of plunder, upon the orders of Priests (who would obtain the money through the Ruler's dread of the devil, when apprehending or near to death); these, alone, could confer the degrees. No power accompanied them. They, merely, became requisite to any one who wished to enter upon, what is called, the Learned professions. These are of the Superstition, of the Law, and of Medicine. Soon, in these employments, the degrees became quite Cabalistic; and made these callings mysteries to the rest of the world.

What was intended to be evidence of fitness, was soon perverted to be a form of initiation into an exclusive Society; whose members insisted, not upon fitness, but upon compliance with arbitrary rules. This was made especially the case with the Law, and with Medicine. The degree was supposed to refer to proper qualifications for the practice of Law, and knowledge of Medicine, with its proper use in the healing art. It did nothing of the sort. It gave a presumption (but by no means a true one) that its holder knew something of the ancient Roman and Greek languages: not any presumption that, in the case of Medicine, there was any knowledge of the articles of Medicine, nor of their proper use; or of the human body to which they were to be administered. Nor any, that in the Law, there was any knowledge of the Statutes, laws and customs of the Realm, nor even of its Common annals! Medicine and Law suffered from this Sham; because men naturally used what little they did know; and, as to the Roman tongue, some, and the Greek, less, were in their heads; and the whole practice of Medicine and Law was in their ignorant hands; what could follow, but to muddle these with the useless obscurity and jargon of the unknown forms!

The Priests had also thrown around the Superstition the same jargon, and kept up the requisition for a degree—as if any true morality and worship were necessarily connected with a literature, denounced by themselves as impure and pagan! Notwithstanding these ignorant and selfish abuses, it was impossible to make the acquisition of even such narrow learning wholly useless. It was narrow, and even hurtful, by being perverted to selfish ends, and preventing honest and independent research. Still, it did work upon some minds to better use; and it gradually evolved a better learning, when the Ancient Literature really worked in free and broader channels. The High-Castes are less indifferent to literary attainments; and learning, in a more comprehensive sense, is becoming more esteemed. It is no longer limited to verbal knowledge; to ancient, dead forms—though these are still so paramount that, if a man were to be the wisest and most learned of mankind, and was deficient in these, he could not receive a Degree—he would be unlearned!

Useful, true and honest knowledge, outside the great Halls of Learning, is making some advance; though in them, the old, pedantic, and superstitious notions yet prevail. The new Literati, founders of a larger and truer teaching, endeavour with difficulty to get some respect and honour to attach to the degrees which they timidly register. The High-Caste, in general, disregard this better knowledge, and adhere to the old Superstitions and traditions—regarding that man only as learned who has the ancient badge; though, to any useful purpose, a fool.

The High-Caste also stupidly support the old preparatory schools; and will not, if they can help it, suffer any of the Lower-Caste to enter them.

In these, the barbarous customs continue; if one goes into them, he is at once carried backwards into the dark ages (as even the Barbarians call them); ages, when the Priests had all the Learning—wretched as it was—and when the Superstition coloured and directed everything. Here, the dead tongues are the chief studies, with something of the ancient puzzles as to Lines and Points—for the most part useless—with a style of administration fitted to the savage brutality of those times. The only part of the training cared for by the youths, is that which developes the forces of the body. The disgusting Ring Fight, referred to elsewhere, is a common pastime; and the lad is a milksop [kou-ad] who really avoids the rude crowd, and wishes to study. To be respected he must fight his way, and be feared. If, by chance, some lad of the Lower-Caste be entered, by the foolish wish of the father to bring the son into the polished circle of the High-Caste, he will be polished off (as these young Barbarians say), in a manner never dreamed of. The poor lad will be beaten, humiliated, and driven from the School; unless, indeed, he be strong enough to bully and beat his tormentors!

Very comically, in one part of these brutal fights, when one has got his antagonist completely in his power, and can bruise him as he pleases, the position is called being in Chancery! One of the fittest illustrations possible, of the universality of the judgment which places that Court among things the most repulsive!

The younger in these schools are the Slaves, for the time being, to the older and stronger; in fact, the whole effect of the training is really to make these youths selfish, quick of quarrel, hardy of body, and barbarous; to prepare them for the lives of predatory exploit, upon which fortune and all the best honours depend—learning being subordinate, and disregarded, unless it further the main purpose.

Force is still the god of these Barbarians, and Jah is worshipped because he, in this, fits them. The intellect is improved only that Force may be developed and disciplined to its most effective use.

One sees this everywhere. To invent the most destructive engines of war for the wholesale slaughter of the human species, to add to the swiftness of movement, to the durability and weight of action, to the means of assault and of defence, to bend the mind to uses based upon the idea that the normal condition of man is that of a tiger with man's intellect, to make the beast something inexpressibly dreadful!

The greater portion of the people remain sunk in the grossest ignorance—scarcely knowing (the most of them) much even of the Superstition, other than crude notions of Hell and the Devil. In this, probably, they are not much to be pitied; though in losing the precepts of Christ, and seeing around them the conduct of Christ-god worshippers, they are to be commiserated. They look with the contempt of ignorance upon foreigners, and call the people of distant seas Heathen, only fit for the Hell! As I have said, in another place, some attempts are being made to give this degraded populace, at least, the rudiments of learning. The task is hard, and made nearly impracticable by the stolid indifference of the Low-Castes, and their positive hostility to anything which interferes with their habits. They are very English, not different from their betters, and resent any sort of change as an interference with their individual freedom of action. To make these degraded beings slaves, you must not seize the individual—you must act upon them as a class—and they resent the attempt to teach them. Compulsion will be resorted to. The English Barbarians have a proverb [li-tze], "One may lead a horse to the water, but who can make him drink?" These people may be forced to the springs of learning, but who shall make them drink—unless beer? (This is the common drink, very muddling; used to an astonishing quantity.)

The women are not admitted to the Halls of Learning, though they are to be seen everywhere. Men do not wish them to be educated in those things admired by men—it would, as they think, make brutes of them. In this they are right; yet there is no consistency of idea in the general treatment of the sex, as will easily be gathered from these observations.

A learned woman—that is, one who has acquired the sort of education recognised by the Literati—is disliked by her own sex as well as by the men. The men will not marry her, unless she can buy a husband. This she may be able to do if she have money in abundance.

The things which may make them attractive and entertaining to the men, and be likely to secure a desirable husband, are the only things cared for. Some music, some drawing, a little acquaintance with the language of the chief tribe on the main parts, reading and writing, are the intellectual studies. But the engrossing pursuits are those which are supposed to add to female attractiveness. To DRESS, so as to enhance the delight of form; to cover, and yet to show with added suggestion; to move with grace; to carry the head; to use with tender, or arch, or modest, or haughty expression, the eyes; to turn the feet and arrange the limbs; to make the shoulders beautiful, and the neck and bust charming; to torture the hair and ornament the whole body; the ear-tips, the fingers, the eyebrows and lashes—to do these, and innumerable other things by which the sex shall be made irresistible [Kou-ket], these are the real cares. Dancing [ma-d-wo] is among the most admired of all accomplishments, and the game of Waltzing its most perfect development. In this art of dancing both sexes take part, and I may merely say to our Flowery Land, that we have nothing like it, and what little we have in any degree to represent it is confined to licensed girls, without, even with them, permitting men to take part! In this dancing the utmost female art (blandishment) is permitted, and it is the one by which, and in the intricacies of which the male is most surely expected to be ensnared!

Women are, also, particularly among the High-Caste, taught in riding on horses, in driving them attached to carriages; in running and walking; and even in swimming. Also in rowing in boats, in the use of bows and arrows, and many other things, which are very strange to us. But the sex like passionately the outdoor sports of men; and, in truth, show the barbarous instinct quite as clearly as do the males. They are attached to dogs, cats, and other creatures, which they fondle and dandle in the most disgusting manner.

The women of the Low-Castes, to the best of their ability, follow the example of their superiors; and make such copy as they can. They imitate the dress, the gait, the airs and graces of the High-Caste, often with a ludicrous effect! When they dance, they may not dance with the elegant abandon [lan-gu-tze] of the lazy and rich, but they can contrive to be quite as effective! The male of the Low-Caste feels but cannot escape the snare!

Accomplishments, directed to the one object of finding a desirable man, who will take them at the least cost off the hands of their relatives, are the things which occupy the time of women; the lower orders, in so far as possible, giving to the poor imitations that time which ought to go to useful objects. A poor and obscure girl prefers to be something like a lady (that is, a bad copy in dress and bearing), than to be really instructed in letters: because she sees herself more admired by the male, and more likely to dispose of herself to a husband.

The great pursuit among High-Caste families is man—a man who may be bought, and whom it is desirable to buy, to be a husband for a daughter, or relative. All domestic art and diplomacy are bent to this end; and, as men do not like learned women, whom they nick-name strong-minded, women do not wish to be learned. If from exceptional circumstances a young woman be well educated, and wish to marry, she carefully conceals her knowledge, and displays her accomplishments, and all "the power of her charms" (as the English poets have it). An educated female had better appear to be an accomplished fool, than a wise and learned woman—if she wish to buy a husband. For she must have a large sum, indeed, if she be known to be learned!—a Blue-stocking [Zu-re-to].

There are some women who have acquired knowledge, and look with disdain upon the arts, airs, and graces of their "weak Sisters." They appear in public Halls of debate (as talking-places are called); and, mixing with men, assume an equality of mental force and culture. They interest themselves like men, in all matters of general concern. They take in hand, or endeavour to take in hand, the care of Women; and demand an enlarged sphere for her action, and a reformed and proper recognition of her rights. Hence, these women are called, besides strong-minded, Women's rights women. They are nearly always old, ugly, and wholly and hopelessly incapacitated from longer pursuing men; even, in their inordinate vanity, that pursuit is abandoned.

There are some trifling exceptions—of women who like to astonish, and of others who, in talking, find a means of living—to whom all personal comeliness is not yet a tradition. But for these, the Women's rights movement would dwindle away; these sometimes commanding an influence either of money or family, draw into their circle a few men—remarkable, in general, for eccentricity of some kind, or led very often completely by a woman of the order.

The whole thing is inexplicable to our social usages; but is not an excrescence—only a natural outgrowth upon a diseased system. The position of women in the Barbarian Society is a feature very striking and very anomalous, and may receive attention in another place.

On the whole, one may see that education in its true and exalted sense is scarcely comprehended among the Barbarians. The moral function and the mind subordinate to that, and the body—its passions, its greed, its brutality, wholly subordinate to the morally trained mind—education, grounded upon this central idea, has but feeble recognition.

CHAPTER V.

OF THE LITERATURE OF THE ENGLISH.

There are innumerable books; and the conceit of these Barbarians attaches to them as to everything in their Enlightened World (Litz-i-ten). Nothing outside of the Christ-god worshippers is allowed to be enlightened—all else is darkness. This is true as to their opinion, strange as it looks; and all the Literature in every part of it shows this. The attainments and the experience of all to whom this worship is unknown, receive no other than a curious attention from a few of the literati. But we know that this conceit is absurd; ignorant and superstitious Barbarians really think that, without the adoption of their Jah-Christ-Jew superstition, with all the Canons, no true morality, no real civilisation, exists, nor can exist!

This I must premise; because we may dismiss at once the larger portion of the Barbarian Literature, inasmuch as it relates to the great Superstition. It is everywhere, striking into and permeating everything, to be sure; but I refer to works avowedly devoted to it. It makes the Books largely unreadable to one having no sympathy with the author; and it requires patience and a long use to get over the disgust caused by the offensive pretensions and ignorant references.

The Poetry of a people is generally placed first among the Barbarian Literati; and of this form the Western tribes are very fond. The English boast that in this they excel all others; though, for that matter, the same boast is made in everything.

The larger part of the Poetry may be called trash (ru-b-isti). Iterations and reiterations of the same conceits, the same shallow sentiments, the same metaphors, mostly of an amatory and indelicate sort. Poems, often tedious, verbose, strangely mixed with matters of the Superstition and of the ancient (Roman) myths; laudatory performances, beslobbering (spr-au-fo) great men with empty compliments, or giving lying exaltation to the fancied virtues of the eminently bad; dull and long-winded reflections from minds too obscure to reflect anything, unless with an added obscurity; an enormous Waste (Ban-s-he) which the English themselves never traverse.

Poetry with the Barbarians is far more esteemed than with us, although in our annals are found evidences of its immemorial existence. As with us, it takes many forms, and is reduced to an art. The two greatest names are Milton and Shakespeare. The first of these is esteemed as the most sublime of all poets, ancient or modern—but it is needful to fix the quality, the essence of the sublime! Of the gloomy grandeur of the man, and of his power of suggesting the vast and the intangible, there can be no doubt. Nor is he wanting in a mournful sweetness—the plaint of a beneficent being who feels an eternal despair! Nor can it be otherwise, for the grand imagination of Milton is wholly occupied with the devils of the Barbarian Superstition! With its terrible images—with the Hell in which they and lost men for ever burn in eternal fires, and yet are never consumed! He introduces the reader (in his great Poem) to Paradise [Kar-din], where man once lived in perfect wisdom and happiness—and here the Poet is full of that sad, that tender, that inexpressible, sweet despair! From this Paradise (as said elsewhere) man was enticed by Satan, who had been set free from Hell for the very purpose; and then follow all the surprising pictures, vast, terrible, indescribable—only possible to a mind fully possessed by all the horrors of the Jew Jah-god Idolatry.

Shakespeare, with a healthier mind, one not distorted by the Superstition, and with a human, natural vigour and feeling, writes in a manner to interest man. On the whole, the English Barbarians place him far above all others of any time or place—call him the Divine Shakespeare! This is very easy with a people who know nothing of the poetry of the great East, nor of that of our Flowery Kingdom—in truth, have but a slight acquaintance with the writers of the other Barbarians!

Disregarding this foolish conceit, we may admit that this man shows a broad and comprehensive intellect—he is one who knows something of himself, and that self is a manly self. And he simply exhibits himself in those creations of his fancy, wherein a great variety of men and women show the passions, follies, and changing interests of life. He has the power of vividly seeing and of clearly showing what in his mind he sees, and in language often low and uncouth, but frequently in fine and lofty tones. His certain knowledge of himself gives pithy form to his wit; and his expressions are the direct utterances of one who sees, not of one who does not nor cannot see. His, on the whole, was a very large and true manhood, which, in spite of unfavourable influences and some tarnish, manifested itself, and occasionally in grand and beautiful forms. In very garbage there are sparkling gems. He often offends decency, but is less indecent than his time—and when he is simply himself, the natural morality of a large man becomes conspicuous. Some of his minor things, based on the affectations of his period, and formed on bad models, which he weakly copies, are not without marks of his rich fancy, yet are so indecent that in our Flowery Land they would be suppressed. None the less, you will find these objectionable verses in the hands of the youth of both sexes.

This degradation of the moral sense is very common. It finds form in the versification of those poets whom the English style Amatory—chiefly with them, but more repulsively with the play-writers. Examples of this indelicacy and coarseness are lying about anywhere. It seems to us very strange: for to what good? No doubt, poetry very properly deals with human emotions and interests; but why should the poet dare to print what he would not dare to utter, unless among the shameless!

Some of these trivialities are not wanting in sweetness and tenderness—and some have a very refined feeling. The great blemish is falseness.

The Western Barbarians addict themselves always to a false and affected mode whenever they address themselves to the female: and the style is absurd. It is borrowed from the obsolete manners of ages ago, when it was the fashion [phan-ti-te] to pretend the most exalted reverence for the sex. They were addressed as goddesses, and there was a whole armoury of weapons of Love, from which these fantastic poets armed their divinities, and pretended to be pierced through and through, wounded, bleeding, at their feet! Dying, transfixed, and rolling their languishing eyes in death, imploring the goddesses to save them, even if by one glance of their bright eyes! The amount of this nonsense is perfectly astonishing!

I give a fair specimen here from a much admired writer of this class:—

"Sweet Phillis, idol of my heart, Oh, turn to me those tender eyes! Transfix my breast with Cupid's dart, But listen to my dying sighs! "I cling, imploring, to your knees; Oh, cruel goddess, turn to me! One kiss the burning pain will ease— Thy lips give Immortality!"

The Elegiac [mo-un-fu] is, perhaps, the most cultured among the refined poets. The most distinguished of the English living writers of verse is very elegant in this form. He cannot emancipate himself from the habits of his people—for the wretched he can find no solace but in the Superstitions of the Christ-god worship. He demands a Sacrifice quite inhuman, when he suggests the only remedy for human grief. Possibly, he finds in this, a meaning of a different kind from what the language (used in the Superstition) itself implies. He may see a meaning common to all sorrowful and thoughtful men—Self-Sacrifice, demanded by the highest perception of justice, and, therefore, inevitable. In this department some of the minor poets sing very sweetly, tenderly—with a nice refinement. Generally, however, there is a sort of despair wailing in an under-tone of pathos. It would seem to arise from the gloomy spirit of the Barbarian nature, intensified by the terrible Superstition.

The comic poets are coarse, trivial, and not much esteemed. There is humour, but it is of the barbarous and unclean. It is frequently strangely fantastic, and delights in laughing at the terrific in the "Sacred Writings," or at the Priests, in a covert manner; often in travesties of the prayers, rites, and other holy things, which no one would dare openly to ridicule. Poetry is not much read, unless by young girls and lads, who, in the season of the sentiments, find food to feed their desires, or to print their tender epistles and speeches, in the Sentimental Authors.

Very rarely is there anything striking or true; and the mass of Verses, after receiving the paid-for attention of the daily writers, sleep a sleep of oblivion.

The Prose writings are innumerable—largely, however, mere re-hashes [mi-pi-stu] of existing works. It is a trade to make these new forms of old books—cutting down, working over, and revising. History, accounts of bloody fights, forays, commotions, massacres, and burnings, now by one Christ-god tribe and now by another; Biography, Travels, Lives of Great men (never heard of out of some Barbarian tribe); these are many, and read by the Literati. A few books, rarely read, devoted to Science and to Art, are printed, commonly to the ruin of the printers.

Of romances and novels there are no ends. With these and the newspapers the English Barbarians almost entirely occupy themselves, when they do read. The novels pretend to portray life, in its usual vicissitudes and with a natural show of the feelings. But the feeling depicted is that of Love, and the Life, the life of a Lover. In this curious creature, unknown in our Central Kingdom, the English young people of both sexes delight. I cannot describe him; he has no existence outside of a diseased brain. The great Shakespeare describes him, "Sighing like a furnace, with a woful ballad made to his mistress' eyebrow!" which will do as well as a more extended notice.

There are Metaphysical works. We have no term to represent it. It is a book which dimly suggests phantoms—things unseen, and not to be seen—mere words without bodies. Usually, making the matters of the common Worship still more inscrutable.

Close to these, and blended often in a confused mixture with them—a compound defying all reasonable analysis—come the Philosophical. This term is a grand one with the Barbarians, and embraces all knowledge. The Philosophical writers pretend to the most exalted insight and outsight—they measure the whole infinite and finite, mind, matter, and the very nature of moral and divine things. The Philosopher loves Wisdom, and Wisdom loves and teaches him!

Each philosopher, however, knowing everything, knows some things better than others; and usually exhibits to the world that eccentricity by which he is known. He parades this on all public occasions of the Literati; and feels happy and serene mounted on his Hobby-horse (again we have nothing to fit this word)—he appropriates the name of the ridden Hobby. Thus, some time since, one of these discovered and taught that man was an Ape—an Ape of high form. This discovery was not very well received; however, he was afterwards honoured by a title derived from his ancestor, and styled the Simian philosopher. In the old Roman, Simia means Ape. He is vulgarly and better known, however, as the Hobby-horse philosopher, from his own name, Hobbs!

Just now, this speculation has revived again, with but slight change. One Darwin dreams of immortality from the usefulness of his theory. In this, man no doubt is found in the Simia, but he passes through that type; it is well enough to find there the immediate origin, but the true germ lies further back among the tadpoles!

I do not know what tadpoles are, and did not think it worth while to inquire.

This philosophy, called Darwinian, is greatly admired for its profundity—especially by the select circle of Mutual Admiring Thinkers—but is strongly denounced by the Bonzes, and by the Halls of Learning and Literati of the Superstition. It makes man no immortal being at all, these say; and dethrones all the gods.

In our Flowery Land we may smile at these speculations and eccentricities—for such and similar vagaries are as old as Literature; and the special notion of Darwin, as to the Origin of Species, has not even the attraction of novelty. The speculation of evolution, by which all visible forms are developed from a form less perfect below it, and this from another below that, and so on, down to the beginning, is a clumsy mode of stating that original forms were few, and contained wrapped up in them, many—and that possibly there may have been primarily only one, containing all! The Sovereign Lord Himself! In truth, it is the immemorial out of nothing idea; for when a creator of worlds, in the shape of man, has got to a single form containing all, he has yet to account for that Single Form.

The few, most advanced of the Barbarian Philosophers, cut adrift entirely from the Superstition. They copy largely from the Greeks, Romans, and ancient peoples, who said, on such subjects, over and over again what these modern imitators say—and said it better. In Physics these moderns think themselves wiser. They may be, in the use of some things, but are not in the nature. Our Sect called Taos-se resemble these speculative writers in many things: the English may not directly teach the Metempsychosis; but in effect it is the same. Evolution may hold to an original germ which is fixed and indestructible; yet what matters if to the observer this germ takes on every possible shape! The Metempsychosis does not contradict the notion of an original germ—it is entirely consistent with it. This speculative inquiry into the nature of things is as old as man, who, even before he knows how to formulate his thoughts, has the deep shadows of them. The Old Greeks introduced the Literature of these fancies to the Western Barbarians, though themselves were no more than bright and beautiful dreamers of old dreams. The human intellect will always, as it has always, search into the unsearchable, applying to it whatever of sharpness, of imagination, of culture, it may have. There will be the inquiry, but never the answer. The mind itself finds its advantage; nor could the Sovereign Lord have designed otherwise, else the intellect would not persist in a vain task. Nevertheless, wise men rest satisfied with the intuitions of the moral and intellectual nature. The origin and essence of the Sovereign Lord and of the visible world cannot be known. The source, the purpose, the end, and the nature of Things are beyond the scope of man. He may ask, and he may find delight in the asking; for new ranges and glimpses of the infinite may flash upon him. But when he thinks he knows—that he has discovered—he is a fool!

Another department of what is called Philosophy deals with the mind, as the part just referred to more particularly affects to deal with matter. And writers upon the mind, when they speak of the moral function, call that by another name. Thus we have the Intellectual and Moral philosophers, with their many books. Very commonly this division is not sustained, and moral and merely mental evolutions run together. Indeed, there are those who deride this division, and assert that the moral has no real existence; that the mind itself is but matter instinct of life, and has no existence independent of material organisms. They say that man is an animal endowed with Life, and that this occult and hidden force is indivisible. That divisions of the faculties may be convenient to give exactness to mental movements, but are otherwise fanciful. They deny a "Moral faculty," asserting that it is only a peculiar refinement of the life-instinct; that the wish to do honestly is no more than this, and, educated to enlarged views, expands into all that man conceives of Justice. That you may just as easily train one to do dishonestly; and then an honest act gives pain. This proves the very proposition denied—the faculty may be misinformed—the pain demonstrates the existence of the faculty. An animal has the Life-Instinct or mind, if you will; but who imagines that the animal is ever pained by any remorse! To this, these philosophers reply that the pain does not really exist only as the remains of a secondary instinct, remembering consciously or unconsciously the penalty awaiting disobedience. The animal, they say, may be so trained that it will feel this pain or shame; and man, for ages disciplined, transmits to his offspring this secondary instinct of inherited fear; and, here, is the so-called moral faculty.

I may be pardoned in this tedious attempt to give the Flowery Kingdom some insight into the thoughts of the Barbarians on abstract matters, not for their novelty, but as a further illustration of that which is so well understood by our Literati—to say, the ceaseless activity of the human mind and its tireless inquiry into the things of the mighty world. A beneficent fact or it would not be. Perverted by vain thinkers, who do not think, because egotist; yet in humble men, conscious of ignorance, a solace. These reverence the Sovereign Lord, never comprehending other than His infinite Wisdom (and this by delightful flashes), nor His works, nor His methods, nor the use of Man, nor of any the smallest thing, nor the origin, nor the design! Enough that He is, and that by some inscrutable, though certain sense, man, with a grateful joy bounds towards Him, claims to be His, and feels Immortal!