of it. The Dutch and English inhabitants did not then (nor do they now) mix together so much as would, in my opinion, have been agreeable and mutually advantageous. A certain jealousy kept the two parties too much apart. Nevertheless, I have been present at many delightful parties in Dutch families, the pleasures of which were not a little heightened by the presence of some ten or a dozen charming Dutch girls. Charming and beautiful they certainly are while young; but, ere they reach thirty, a marvellous change comes over their appearance: the fair-haired, blue-eyed, laughing romp of eighteen has, in that short period of ten or twelve years, become transformed into a stout and rather elderly-looking matron, as unlike an English woman of the same age as one can well fancy. When I look back on those gay and pleasant parties, and think how few of the individuals who composed them are now alive, the reflection makes me sad. What a different class its English inhabitants of the present day are from those of 1823-1826! I may be prejudiced in favour of the former state of society; but, in giving the preference to it, I shall be borne out by any of the few survivers who knew Batavia at both periods. From 1823 to 1835, the Governor's parties were thronged with our countrymen and countrywomen. Let any one enter His Excellency's ball-room now-a-days, and he will not meet with more than one or two English of the old school, and not one of the new. The causes of this change are obvious: it arises from the different class of people that now come out from Liverpool, Manchester, and Glasgow, compared with the British merchant of former times, and from the total deficiency of the most common civility, on the part of our countrymen, towards the many highly respectable, agreeable, and intelligent Dutch families that form the society of the place. It is with pain I write this; but, as a citizen of the world, who has seen a good deal of life, in recording my sentiments on these matters, I cannot avoid telling the plain truth as it struck me from personal observation.

The vicinity of Batavia affords the most beautiful drives; and hundreds of vehicles, from the handsome carriage and four of the Member of Council to the humble buggy of the merchant's clerk, may be seen every evening, from five till half-past six, that being the coolest and best time for taking out-of-door exercise. The roads are excellent, lined on both sides with trees, which keep them shaded and cool nearly all day. The scene is altogether gay, and affords a gratifying indication of the wealth and importance of this fine colony. By seven o'clock, the drives are deserted; and, immediately afterwards, lights may be seen glittering in every dwelling in the neighbourhood, while, in every second or third house, the passer-by may observe parties of pleasure assembling for the evening. The Dutch have adopted the social plan of exchanging friendly visits in the evening, avoiding our more formal ones of the morning. At these chance evening parties (if I may so term them), the company are entertained with music and cards, and other diversions; and should the visiter be too old to join the young folks in their gayety, he will find one or two of his own standing snugly seated in the far corner of the verandah, where he is sure to be supplied with a good cigar and the very best wine. These groupes are perfect pictures of comfort and content. With all his good qualities, however, "John Dutchman" is jealous of "John Bull," and cannot help shewing it, particularly in commercial matters. How short-sighted his policy is, in this point of view, it would be no difficult task to prove.

The pleasantest months of the year, in Batavia, are, June, July, and August, when the sun is to the northward. I have frequently found a blanket necessary at this season: indeed, the nights, throughout Java, are generally sufficiently cool to allow the European to enjoy a refreshing sleep, after which he will find no difficulty in getting through a hot day. The public health is generally very good from May till September inclusive. In April and October, strangers, particularly the recently arrived European, are apt to suffer from colds and fever, caused, in a great measure, by the breaking-up of the monsoon, which takes place in those months. In November or December, the north-west monsoon brings on the rains, which certainly then come down in torrents, and render the city of Batavia a perfect charnel-house for those poor Natives and Chinese who are unfortunately compelled to remain in it. I have seen it entirely flooded with water, to the depth of four or five feet in some parts. The malaria occasioned by the deposit of slimy mud left all over the town by the water, on its retiring, causes sad havoc among the poorer Chinese and Malays, who reside in the lowest parts of the town, and inhabit wretched hovels. These floods seldom annoy the inhabitants of the suburbs; yet I well remember, in the season of 1828, a friend of mine lay down on a sofa and went to sleep, about eight o'clock in the evening: at three next morning, he awoke with the water just reaching his couch, much to his surprise and no small alarm, till, on becoming collected, he bethought him of the cause. The neighbouring river had risen, from mountain rains, whilst he was asleep, and had completely flooded his house, to the depth of eighteen inches, together with the garden and neighbourhood.

I know no market, east of the Cape of Good Hope, better supplied with fruit than that of Batavia. Among the choicest, I would name the mangistan, the durian, and the pumaloe or shaddock. The first is unknown beyond eight degrees from the Equator, and is, perhaps, the best fruit with which nature has blessed the tropical regions. It is about the size of an orange, its rind of a dark purple, and its pulp divided into parts like the contents of an orange, as white as driven snow. Its taste I cannot attempt to describe, knowing nothing to which I can compare it. The best quality of the mangistan is its perfect harmlessness. The patient suffering from fever, liver complaint, consumption, or any of the numerous ills that flesh is heir to, may, with perfect impunity, cool his parched tongue with a dozen of this delightful fruit; and no one who has not been laid on a sick bed within the tropics, can appreciate this blessing. The rind, when dried, and made into tea, is an excellent tonic, and is often successfully used in cases of dysentery, by Native as well as European practitioners. The durian is a favourite fruit with most people who can overcome its smell, which certainly is no very easy matter. Natives of all classes are passionately fond of this fruit, and almost subsist on it when in plenty. Strange to say, goats, sheep, poultry, and even the royal tiger, eagerly devour the durian, of which I confess myself, notwithstanding the aforesaid smell, an admirer, in common with many of my countrymen. Its size is that of a cocoa-nut, husk and all; its rind is very thick, of a pale green colour, and covered with strong sharp thorns; its interior is divided into compartments, each of which contains three or four seeds about the size of a pullet's egg; these seeds are covered, to the thickness of a quarter of an inch, with a pale yellow pulp, which is the part eaten. The taste resembles, according to the description of those who like the fruit, that of a very rich custard, and, according to those who have never succeeded in overcoming their antipathy to the smell, that of a mixture of decayed eggs and garlic. This fruit cannot be eaten in large quantities with impunity by Europeans, being of a very heating nature. With me it never agreed; nor do I remember a single instance of its agreeing with my countrymen, when eaten freely.