Some Observations Upon the Civilization of the Western Barbarians, Particularly of the English / made during the residence of some years in those parts.

by John B. Swazey

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?