It is, however, an honour both to the institutor of the Burman law and the sovereign, who, though absolute, obeyed it, to mention that no married woman can be seized on by the emissaries of the king. This, of course, leads the Burmese to contract marriages very early, either actually or fictitiously.

The property of persons who die without heirs is swept into the coffers of the state, and by law the property of unmarried foreigners is subject to the same regulation upon their death. Jetsome and flotsome belong to the king. These last provisions have not, however, been much enforced, in consequence of the urgent representations of the foreigners residing at Rangoon, Bassein, and other places. The king alone decides upon peace and war, and his call brings the whole population to the rescue. All serve, all are conscripts. “The only effectual restraint,” as Crawfurd remarks, “on the excesses of maladministration is the apprehension of insurrection.”

However, notwithstanding his being acknowledged as absolute, he, like a present president in Europe, has two nominal councils,—a public one and a cabinet. But he is neither bound to abide by their advice, nor does he. His measures are predetermined, and should they prove unwilling to give an immediate and unconditional assent, he has been known to chase his ministers from his presence, with a drawn sword. Two instances are related of his rigour, which will suffice to show the capriciousness of the unrestrained Oriental.

The first is related by Crawfurd.[28] “The workman who built the present palace committed some professional mistake in the construction of the spire. The king remonstrated with him, saying that it would not stand. The architect pertinaciously insisted upon its stability and sufficiency, and was committed to prison for contumacy. Shortly afterwards the spire fell in a thunderstorm, and about the same time accounts were received at court of the arrival of the British expedition; upon which the architect was sent for from prison, taken to the place of execution, and forthwith decapitated. This,” concludes the envoy, “although upon a small scale, is a fair example both of the despotism and superstition by which this people are borne down.”

The second instance, for the truth of which I would scarcely vouch, was reported to Malcom,[29] whence I quote it. “On a late occasion, for a very slight offence, he had forty of his highest officers laid on their faces in the public street, before the palace wall; kept for hours in a broiling sun, with a beam extended across their bodies.” This is scarcely credible, and I think Malcom’s informer must have been a Burmese Chartist, an Oriental Cuffey. However that traveller pithily observes, that he is “seldom allowed to know much of passing events, and particularly of the delinquencies of particular officers, who are ever ready to hush up accusations by a bribe to their immediate superior.”

Many circumstances lead me to suspect, however, that the king has little real power, and that the officers reap the benefits of the acts of enormity which he commits at their instigation, or which they commit under the shadow of his responsibility. It has often been the case in the world’s varied history, and why not here? Facts will show.

As a specimen of the pride of the Burmese government, I shall append the form of address, which an English envoy received with the recommendation that he should pronounce it before the king.[30]

“Placing above our heads the golden majesty of the Mighty Lord, the Possessor of the mines of rubies, amber, gold, silver, and all kinds of metal; of the Lord, under whose command are innumerable soldiers, generals, and captains; of the Lord, who is King of many countries and provinces, and Emperor over many Rulers and Princes, who wait round the throne with the badges of his authority; of the Lord, who is adorned with the greatest power, wisdom, knowledge, prudence, foresight, &c.; of the Lord, who is rich in the possession of elephants, and horses, and in particular is the Lord of many White Elephants; of the Lord, who is the greatest of kings, the most just and the most religious, the master of life and death; we his slaves the Governor of Bengal, the officers and administrators of the Company, bowing and lowering our heads under the sole of his royal golden foot, do present to him with the greatest veneration, this our humble petition.”

I have, by my italics, pointed out the “richest” parts of this grandiose address, which, I think, requires no further comment. It may be as well to add, however, that the presence and attributes of the sovereign are always represented as golden.