CHAPTER VIII.

EDUCATION, PROFESSIONS, AND ORIENTAL STUDIES.

Panjim and Margao (a large town in the province of Salsette, about

fifteen miles south-east of Goa), are the head-quarters of the

Indo-Portuguese muses. The former place boasts of mathematical and

medical schools, and others in which the elements of history, and a

knowledge of the Portuguese, Latin, English, French, and Maharatta

languages are taught gratis. The students are, generally speaking,

proficients in the first,[49] tolerable in the second, and execrable in

the third and fourth dialects above specified. As regards the Maharattas,

the study of its literature has been rendered obligatory by government,

which however, in its wisdom, appears to have forgotten, or perhaps

never knew, that certain little aids called grammars and dictionaries

are necessary to those who would attain any degree of proficiency in any

tongue. For the benefit of the fair sex there is a school at Panjim.

Dancing and drawing masters abound. Music also is generally studied, but

the Portuguese here want the “furore,” as the Italians call it, the fine

taste, delicate ear, and rich voice of Southern Europe.

At Panjim there is also a printing office, called the Imprensa Naçional,

whence issues a weekly gazette, pompously named the _Boletim do Governo

do Estado da India_. It is neatly printed, and what with advertisements,

latest intelligence borrowed from the Bombay papers, and government

orders, it seldom wants matter. At the Imprensa also, may be found a

few Portuguese books for sale, but they are, generally speaking, merely

elementary, besides being extravagantly dear.

Physic as well as jurisprudence may be studied at Margao. The same town

also has schools of theology, philosophy, Latin, Portuguese, and the rude

beginnings of a Societade Estudiosa, or Literary Society. The latter is

intended for learned discussion: it meets twice a week, does not publish

but keeps MS. copies of its transactions, and takes from each member an

annual subscription of about 1_l._

Upon the whole, education does not thrive in the Indo-Portuguese

settlement. It seldom commences before the late age of nine or ten, and

is very soon ended. After entering some profession, and coquetting a

little with modern languages and general literature, study is considered

a useless occupation. Moreover, if our observation deceive us not,

the description of talent generally met with at Goa is rather of the

specious and shallow order. A power of quick perception, an instinctive

readiness of induction, and even a good memory, are of little value when

opposed to constitutional inertness, and a mind which never proposes to

itself any high or great object. Finally, the dispiriting influence of

poverty weighs heavy upon the student’s ambition, and where no rewards

are offered to excellence, no excellence can be expected. The romantic,

chivalrous, and fanatic rage for propagating Christianity which animated

the first conquerors of Goa, and led their immediate descendants to

master the languages and literature of the broad lands won by their sharp

swords, has long since departed, in all human probability for ever.

* * * * *

The religion of Goa is the Roman Catholic. The primate is appointed

from home, and is expected to pass the rest of his life in exile. In

the ceremonies of the church we observed a few, but not very important

deviations from the Italian ritual. The holy week and other great

festivals are still kept up, but the number of _ferie_ (religious

holidays) has of late been greatly diminished, and the poverty of

the people precludes any attempt at display on these occasions. All

ecclesiastical matters are settled with the utmost facility. By

the constitution lately granted, the clergy have lost the power of

excommunication. The Papal see, who kept so jealous and watchful an eye

upon Goa in the days of her wealth and grandeur, seems now almost to

have forgotten the existence of her froward daughter.[50] As regards the

effect of religion upon the community in general, we should say that the

mild discipline of the priesthood has produced so far a happy result,

that the free-thinking spirit roused by ecclesiastical intolerance in

Europe, is all but unknown here.

The priests always wear out of doors the clerical cap and cassock.

They are now very poorly provided for, and consequently lead regular

lives. The archbishop’s prison is almost always empty, and the amount of

profligacy which in Rome would be smiled at in a polite young abbate,

would certainly incur the severest penalty at Goa. It is said that the

clergy is careful to maintain the reputation of the profession, and

that any little peccadilloes, such as will and must occur in a warm

climate, and an order of celibataires, are studiously concealed from

public observation. As might be expected, the ecclesiastical party

prefers Don Miguel to Donna Maria, the favourite of the laity, the more

so as that “excellent son of Don John of Portugal,” were he even to

set his august foot on the floors of the Adjuda, would probably humour

them in such trifles as readmitting the Jesuits, and reestablishing the

Inquisition. The only objection to the holy profession at Goa is, that

the comparatively idle life led by its members offers strong inducements

to a poor, careless, and indolent people, who prefer its inutility to

pursuits more advantageous to themselves, as well as more profitable to

the commonweal.

The ecclesiastical education lasts about seven years, three of which

are devoted to studying Latin, one is wasted upon moral philosophy,

dialectics and metaphysics, and the remainder is deemed sufficient for

theology. On certain occasions, students at the different seminaries

are taught the ceremonies of the church, and lectured in the Holy

Scriptures. There are two kinds of pupils, the resident, who wear the

clerical garb, and are limited in number, and the non-resident, who

dress like the laity, unless they intend to take orders. In this course

of education much stress is laid upon, and pride taken in, a knowledge

of Latin, whose similarity to Portuguese enables the student to read

and speak it with peculiar facility. Many authors are perused, but the

niceties of scholarship are unknown, good editions of the poets and

orators being unprocurable here. Few Goanese write the classical language

well; and though all can master the words, they seldom read deeply

enough to acquire the idiom. And lastly, the strange pronunciation of

the consonants in Portuguese is transferred to Latin, imparting to it

an almost unrecognisable sound. The clergy belonging to the country,

of course understand and speak the Concanee Maharattas. Sermons are

sometimes preached, and services performed in this dialect: it boasts of

a printed volume of oraçoens (prayers) dated 1660, for the benefit of

the lowest and most ignorant classes.

The military profession is by no means a favourite one, on account of

poor pay and slow promotion. The aspirante, or cadet, enters the service

as a private, wears the uniform of that rank, and receives about 10s.

_per mensem_ for attending lectures. After learning Portuguese, the

course of study is as follows:—

1st Term. Geometry, Trigonometry (plane and spherical), Geodesy and

Surveying.

2nd Term. Algebra, differential and integral calculus.

3rd Term. Mechanics, Statics, Dynamics, Hydrodynamics, Hydrostatics,

Hydraulics, &c.

4th Term. Gunnery, Mining, Practice of Artillery.

5th Term. Navigation and the Use of Instruments.

6th Term. Fortification and Military Architecture.

Infantry cadets study geometry and field-fortification during two or

three years. Those intended for the Artillery and Engineers, go through

all the course above mentioned, except navigation. Drawing, in all its

branches, is taught by professors who are, generally speaking, retired

officers superintended by a committee. After passing their examinations,

the names of the cadets are put down in the Roster, and they are

promoted, in due order, to the rank of alferez, or ensign.

The total number of the Goanese army may be estimated at about two

thousand[51] men on actual duty, besides the Mouros, or Moors, who act as

police and guards at Panjim. The regiments are—two of infantry, stationed

at Bicholim and Ponda; two battalions of caçadores (chasseurs not

mounted), at Margao and Mapuca; a provincial battalion, and a corps of

artillery at Panjim. In each regiment there are six companies, composed

of between sixty and seventy men: a full band reckons thirty musicians.

The officers are about as numerous as in a British corps on foreign

service.

The army is poorly paid;[52] the privates receive no salary when in sick

quarters, and the consequence is that they are frequently obliged to beg

their bread. We cannot therefore wonder that the European soldiery is

considered the least respectable part of the whole community. Most of the

officers belong to some family resident in India; consequently, they do

not live upon their pay. Moreover, they have no expensive establishments

to keep up, and have little marching or change of stations.

The corps are seldom paraded; once every two days is considered ample

work during the cold season. Except on particular occasions, there are no

mounted officers on the ground, a peculiarity which gives a remarkably

“National Guard” like appearance to the field. They are well dressed, but

very independent in such movements as in carrying the sword, or changing

flanks: after a few manœuvres, which partake more of the character of

company than battalion exercise, the men order arms, and the captains,

lieutenants, and ensigns all fall out for a few minutes, to smoke a

leaf-full of tobacco, and chat with the commanding officer. They then

return to their places, and the parade proceeds. The appearance of

the privates on the drill-ground is contemptible in the extreme. The

smallest regiment of our little Maharattas would appear tolerable sized

men by the side of them; and as for a corps of Bengalees, it ought to be

able to walk over an equal number of such opponents, without scarcely

a thrust of the bayonet. Europeans and natives, in dirty clothes, and

by no means of a uniform colour—some fiercely “bearded like the pard,”

some with moustachios as thick as broomsticks, others with meek black

faces, religiously shaven and shorn—compose admirably heterogeneous

companies which, moreover, never being sized from flanks to centre, look

as jagged as a row of shark’s teeth. Drill is the last thing thought

of. The sergeant, when putting his recruits through their manual and

platoon, finds it necessary to refer to a book. When the pupils are not

sufficiently attentive, a spiteful wring of the ear, or poke between the

shoulders, reminds them of their duty. To do justice to their spirit,

we seldom saw such admonition received in silence; generally, it was

followed by the description of dialogue affected by two irritated

fishwives. So much for the outward signs of discipline. As regards the

effects of drill, the loose, careless, and _draggling_ way in which the

men stand and move, would be the death of a real English martinet. We

could not help smiling at the thought of how certain friends of ours who,

after a march of fifteen miles, will keep an unhappy regiment ordering

and shouldering arms for half an hour in front of their tents, would

behave themselves, if called to command such corps.

Till lately, no books of tactics have been published for the instruction

of the Goanese army. At present there are several, chiefly elementary,

and translated from the English and French. The manual and platoon, the

sword exercise, and other small works were prepared by Major G⸺n, an

officer and linguist of some talent. We saw few publications upon the

subject of military law. Courts-martial are rare compared with the absurd

number yearly noted in the annals of the Indian army, where a boy of

eighteen scarcely ever commits a fault for which he would be breeched at

school, without being solemnly tried upon the charge of “conduct highly

unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.”

To conclude the subject of the Goanese army, it is evident that there

are two grand flaws in its composition. The officers are compelled to

be scientific, not practical men, and the soldiers are half-drilled.

This propensity for mathematics is, of course, a European importation.

Beginning with France, it has spread over the Western Continent till at

last, like sundry other new-fangled fashions, it has been seized upon

and applied to the British army. Why a captain commanding a company, or

a colonel in charge of a battalion, should be required to have Geometry,

History, and Geography at his fingers’ ends, we cannot exactly divine.

With respect to drill, it may be remarked that, when imperfectly taught,

it is worse than useless to the soldier. We moderns seem determined to

discourage the personal prowess, gymnastics, and the perpetual practice

of weapons in which our forefathers took such pride. We are right to

a certain extent: the individual should be forced to feel that his

safety lies in acting in concert with others. At the same time, in our

humble opinion, they carry the principle too far who would leave him

destitute of the means of defending himself when obliged to act singly.

How many good men and true have we lost during the late wars, simply in

consequence of our neglecting to instruct them in the bayonet exercise!

And may not this fact in some wise account for the difficulty experienced

of late by disciplined troops in contending with semi-civilised tribes,

whose military studies consist of athletic exercises which prepare the

body for hardship and fatigue, and the skilful use of weapons that

ensures success in single combat? The English, French, and Russians

have, within the last fifteen years, all suffered more or less severely

from the undrilled valour, and the irregular attacks of the Affghans,

Arabs, and Circassians.

Young aspirants to the honours which Justinian gives, have no public

schools to frequent, nor can they study gratis. In a community which so

decidedly prefers coppers to knowledge, this is perhaps one of the most

judicious measures imaginable for limiting the number of this troublesome

order. The law students frequent private establishments at Margäo, and a

course of two years is generally considered sufficient to qualify them

for practice. After a very superficial examination in the presence of a

committee composed of two judges and a president, they receive, if found

competent, a diploma, and proceed to seek employment in one of the courts.

Justice at Goa, as in British India, seems to have adapted herself to the

peculiarities of the country much better than one might have expected

from a character so uncompromising as hers is generally represented to

be. The great difference between us and the Portuguese is, that whereas

we shoot and hang upon the authority of our civil and military courts,

no Goanese can be brought to the gallows till the death-warrant,

bearing her majesty’s signature, arrives from Europe,—a pleasant state

of suspense for the patient! Murder and sacrilege are the only crimes

which lead to capital punishment; for lesser offences, criminals are

transported to the Mozambique, or imprisoned in the jail—a dirty

building, originally intended for a Mint—or simply banished from Goa.

Those covetous of the riches which Galen is said to grant, are prepared

for manslaughter—to use a Persian phrase—by a course of five years’

study. They are expected to attend lectures every day, except on

Thursdays and Sundays, the principal religious festivals, and a long

vacation that lasts from the fifteenth of March to the middle of June.

On the first of April every year, the students are examined, and two

prizes are given. The professors are four in number, three surgeons

and one physician, together with two assistants. The course commences

with Anatomy and Physiology; during the second year Materia Medica

and Pharmacy are studied; the surgical and chemical branches of the

profession occupy the third; and the last is devoted to Pathology and

Medical Jurisprudence. The hospital must be visited every day during the

latter half of the course. It is a large edifice, situated at the west

end of the town, close to the sea, but by no means, we should imagine,

in a favourable position for health, as a channel of fetid mud passes

close under the walls. The building can accommodate about three hundred

patients and is tolerably but not scrupulously clean. It contains two

wards, one for surgical, the other for medical cases, a chapel, an

apartment for sick prisoners and a variety of different lecture-rooms.

After his four years of study, the pupil is examined, and either rejected

or presented with a diploma and permission to practise.

The elementary works upon the subjects of Anatomy and Materia Medica are,

generally speaking, Portuguese; the proficient, however, is compelled

to have recourse to French books, which have not been translated into

his vernacular tongue. The English system of medicine is universally

execrated, and very justly. Dieting, broths, and ptisanes, cure many a

native whose feeble constitution would soon sink beneath our blisters,

calomel, bleeding, and drastic purges. As might be expected, all the

modern scientific refinements, or quackeries, are known here only by

name. We were surprised, however, by the general ignorance of the

properties of herbs and simples—a primitive science in which the native

of India is, usually speaking, deeply read.

* * * * *

The principal Oriental tongues studied by the early Portuguese in their

mania for converting the heathens were the Malabar, Maharatta, Ethiopic,

and Japanese, the dialects of Congo, and the Canary Isles, the Hebrew,

and the Arabic. The Portuguese Jews, in the fifteenth century, were

celebrated for their proficiency in Biblical, Talmudic, and Rabbinical

lore; and the work of João de Souza, entitled, “Documentos Arabios de

Historia Portugueza copiades dos originaes da Torre do’ Tombo,” is a

fair specimen of Orientalism, considering the early times in which it

was composed. Of late years, Portuguese zeal for propagating the faith,

depressed by poverty, and worn out by the slow and sure spiritual _vis

inertiæ_, which the natives of the East have opposed to the pious efforts

of Modern Europe, appears to have sunk into the last stage of decline,

and with it their ancient ardour for the study of so many, and, in some

cases, such unattractive languages.

Our case is very different from theirs. In addition to religious

incentives, hundreds of our nation have more solid and powerful

inducements to labour held out to them. We fondly hope and believe

that the days are passed when Oriental study and ruin were almost

synonymous. Within the last few years we have more or less facilitated

the acquisition, and rifled the literature of between thirty and

forty eastern dialects—a labour of which any nation might be proud.

Our industry, too, is apparently still unabated. Societies for the

translation and publication of new works, Oriental libraries, and,

perhaps, the most useful step of all, the lithographic process, which has

lately supplanted the old and unseemly moveable types, are fast preparing

a royal road for the Oriental learner. It may be observed that the true

means of promoting the study is to diminish its laboriousness, and

still more its expense. So far we have been uncommonly successful. For

instance, an excellent and correct lithograph of Mirkhond’s celebrated

history, the “Rauzat el Safa,” may now be bought for 3_l._ or 4_l._; a

few years ago the student would have paid probably 70_l._ or 80_l._ for a

portion of the same work in the correct MS.

At the same time we quite concur in the opinion of the eminent

Orientalist,[53] who declared, _ex cathedrâ_, that our literary

achievements in this branch bear no flattering proportion to the

vastness of our means as a nation. It is true, to quote one of many

hard cases, that we must send to Germany or Russia for grammars and

publications in the Affghan language, although the country lies at

our very doors. But the cause of this is the want of patronage and

assistance, not any deficiency in power or ability. There are many

unknown D’Herbelots in India, unfortunately England has not one

Ferdinand.[54]

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