ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM
VICISSITUDE.

Left unfinished by Gray. The additions by Mason, a poet, and friend of Gray, are distinguished by inverted commas.

Now the golden morn aloft

Waves her dew-bespangled wing,

With blushing cheek and whisper soft
She woos the tardy spring:

Till April starts, and calls around
The sleeping fragrance from the ground;
And lightly o'er the living scene
Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.

New-born flocks, in rustic dance,
Frisking ply their feeble feet;
Forgetful of their wintry trance
The birds his presence greet:
But chief, the sky-lark warbles high
His trembling thrilling ecstasy;
And, lessening from the dazzled sight,
Melts into air and liquid light.

Rise, my soul! on wings of fire,
Rise the rapturous choir among;
Hark! 'tis nature strikes the lyre,
And leads the general song:
"Warm let the lyric transport flow,
Warm as the ray that bids it glow,
And animates the vernal grove
With health, with harmony, and love."

Yesterday the sullen year

Saw the snowy whirlwind fly;
Mute was the music of the air,
The herd stood drooping by;

Their raptures now that wildly flow,
No yesterday nor morrow know;
'Tis man alone that joy descries
With forward, and reverted eyes.

Smiles on past misfortune's brow
Soft reflection's hand can trace;
And o'er the cheek of sorrow throw
A melancholy grace;
While hope prolongs our happier hour,
Or deepest shades, that dimly lower
And blacken round our weary way,
Gilds with a gleam of distant day.

Still, where rosy pleasure leads,
See a kindred grief pursue;
Behind the steps that misery treads,
Approaching comfort view;

The hues of bliss more brightly glow,
Chastised by sabler tints of woe;
And blended form, with artful strife,
The strength and harmony of life.

See the wretch, that long has tost
On the thorny bed of pain,
At length repair his vigour lost,
And breathe and walk again :
The meanest flow'ret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening paradise.

Humble Quiet builds her cell,

Near the source whence pleasure flows; She eyes the clear crystalline well, And tastes it as it goes.

"While" far below the "madding" crowd "Rush headlong to the dangerous flood," Where broad and turbulent it sweeps,

"And" perish in the boundless deeps.

Mark where Indolence and Pride,
"Soothed by flattery's tinkling sound,"
Go, softly rolling, side by side,
Their dull but daily round:

"To these, if Hebe's self should bring,
The purest cup from pleasure's spring,
Say, can they taste the flavour high
Of sober, simple, genuine joy?

"Mark Ambition's march sublime
Up to power's meridian height;
While pale-eyed Envy sees him climb,
And sickens at the sight.

Phantoms of danger, death, and dread,
Float hourly round Ambition's head;
While spleen, within his rival's breast,
Sits brooding on her scorpion nest.

Happier he, the peasant, far

From the pangs of passion free,

That breathes the keen yet wholesome air
Of rugged penury.

He, when his morning task is done,
Can slumber in the noontide sun;
And hie him home, at evening's close,
To sweet repast, and calm repose.

"He, unconscious whence the bliss,
Feels, and owns in carols rude,
That all the circling joys are his,
Of dear Vicissitude.

From toil he wins his spirits light,
From busy day the peaceful night;
Rich, from the very want of wealth,

In heaven's best treasures, peace and health."

-Gray.

JAVANESE.

THESE people occupy about forty villages, scattered along the range of hills in the neighbourhood of what is termed the Sunda Sea. The site of their villages, as well as the construction of their houses, is peculiar, and differs entirely from what is elsewhere observed in Java. They are not shaded by trees, but built on spacious open terraces, rising one above the other, each house occupying a terrace, and being in length from thirty to forty, and even eighty feet. The door is invariably in one corner, at the end of the building opposite to that in which the fireplace is built. The building appears to be constructed with the ordinary roof, having along the front an enclosed verandah or gallery, about eight feet broad. The fireplace is built of brick, and is so highly venerated that it is considered a sacrilege for any stranger to touch it. Across the upper part of the building rafters are run; so as to form a kind of attic story, in which are deposited the most valuable property and implements of husbandry.

The head of the village takes the title of Peting'gi, as in the lowlands, and is generally assisted by a Kabayan, both elected by the people from their own village. There are four priests who are here termed Dûkans, having charge of the State records and the sacred books.

These Dûkans, who are in general intelligent men, can give no account of the era when they were first established on these hills; they can produce no traditional history of their origin, whence they came, or who entrusted them with the sacred books, to the faith contained in which they still adhere. These, they concur in stating, were handed down to them by their fathers, to whose hereditary office of preserving them they have succeeded.

The sole duty required of them is again to hand them down in safety to their children, and to perform the "praisegiving" according to the directions they contain. These records consist of three compositions,

written on the lantar-leaf, detailing the origin of the world, disclosing the attributes of the Deity, and describing the form of worship to be observed on different occasions.

When a marriage is agreed upon, the bride and bridegroom, being brought before the Dûkan within the house, in the first place bow with respect towards the south, then to the fireplace, then to the earth, and lastly, on looking up, to the upper story of the house where the implements are placed; the parties then submissively bowing to the Dûkan, he repeats a prayer, while the bride washes the feet of the bridegroom. At the conclusion of this ceremony, the friends and family of the parties make presents to each, of buffaloes, implements of husbandry, &c.; in return for which the bride and bridegroom respectfully present them with Betel leaf.

At the interment of an inhabitant of Teng'ger, the corpse is lowered into the grave with the head placed towards the south (contrary to the direction observed by the Mahometans), and is guarded from immediate contact with the earth by a covering of bamboos and planks. When the grave is closed, two posts are planted over the body: one erected perpendicularly over the breast, the other on the lower part of the belly; and between them is placed a hollow bamboo in an inverted position, into which during successive days they daily empty a vessel of pure water, laying beside the bamboo two dishes, also daily replenished with eatables. At the expiration of the seventh day, the feast of the dead is announced, and the relations and friends of the deceased assemble to be present at the ceremony, and to partake of entertainments conducted in the following manner:— A figure of about half a cubit high, representing the human form, made of leaves and ornamented with variegated flowers, is prepared and placed in a conspicuous situation, supported round the body by the clothes of the deceased. The Dûkan then places in front of the garland an incense-pot with burning ashes, together with a vessel containing water, and repeats the two "praisegivings" to fire and water.