Early in the morning X. went out to explore, and, naturally, his first visit was to those wonderful gardens which are the first in the world, and are the resort of naturalists from all portions of the globe.

In a sketch of this nature it would be presumption to attempt to describe the marvels of this garden, one of the sights of the East, which it is worth while going to Java to see. During his walk the traveller was at every turn astonished at the evidences of wealth amongst the natives, the tiled roofed houses and plentifully stocked orchards and gardens, while goats and sheep browsed everywhere. In the streets everyone appeared to be selling—there seemed none left to buy—and they sold the most attractive looking fruits and vegetables, together with a variety of flowers. The population is large, and for some distance round the town stretched rows and rows of native houses built close together, backs and fronts facing each other in every angle and position, showing that the people must surely live together in unity, en famille or rather en masse, in marked contrast to the Malay villages, where, as a rule, each house stands in an enclosure of its own grounds. But there they have unlimited space, here apparently they have unlimited people.

Himself living an isolated life amongst a native race, it was only natural that X. should be more inclined than the ordinary traveller to notice the people of the country and their surroundings. He had heard so many stories of their oppression by the Dutch and the uncomfortable conditions under which they lived, that the actual appearance of the natives came as a surprise, which only increased the more he saw and the further he travelled in Java.

As to higher life in Java, to any one who has been there or knows anything of the country, its social conditions are well known. But however much may have been previously heard of them, it cannot but give the ordinary Englishman a shock, when he is for the first time confronted with them in their reality. Intermarriage with the people of the country is not only condoned, but almost encouraged, and it is no uncommon thing to meet the children of these marriages in the highest society. Cases occur where people, holding great positions, legitimize their children, and after years of unsolemnized intercourse lead their mother to the altar. The mothers of many children being educated in Holland, probably in the future to enter the service of the country, are simply native women still living in their villages. The accident of birth would seldom be considered a bar when ascending official heights, nor is a mixed parentage any obstacle to such distinction.

Many instances of this were observed by X. during his visit, and, though the state of affairs appeared to him rather strange, he was obliged to own that from a Dutch point of view there existed many and weighty arguments in its favour, the pros and cons of such a question are certainly beyond the scope of a book which only purports to note for the benefit of intending travellers such things as merit observation.

So far as I can gather, there were few excursions to be made from Buitenzorg and few sights, but in the afternoon he drove to see a famous stone covered with Hindoo inscriptions, the first indication brought to his notice of the real origin of this now Mahommedan people.

Late in the day X. decided to call upon the official who holds the position corresponding with that of an English Colonial Secretary, and to ask his assistance in obtaining a pass to continue his journey into the interior. Though warned not to call before 7 p.m., just as it was getting dusk, the traveller felt nervous and fidgety, unable to really believe that he would be doing right to make a call so late, and thus six o'clock found him approaching the very modest-looking dwelling in which the great official dwelt. A glance was enough to show that he was wrong and his informant right, since in front of him, at a desk in a room off the verandah, sat his host still clothed in the undress of pyjamas—not having yet made his toilet for the evening. However, though X. felt guilty of a gaucherie, the sense of it came entirely from his own consciousness, and not at all from the manner of the gentleman whom he interrupted, for without the least trace of either annoyance or surprise, but as though the untimely appearance of a stranger and a foreigner was a daily occurrence, he bade him welcome with polite cordiality. This official was as agreeable and well informed as anyone the traveller had met, and X. always waxes enthusiastic when speaking of him. With true courtesy he at once abandoned the work on which he was engaged, without that last lingering look at the table which so often ruins the grace of a similar sacrifice, and forthwith evinced the utmost interest in the affairs of his guest. He quickly reassured him concerning his pass, and, on hearing that he was in some way connected with the Government across the Straits, immediately promised to procure for him a special permit which would enable him to travel where he would, and ensure assistance from all with whom he came in contact. Though, at this time relying upon his own ability to manage the order of his going, X. may not have attached much importance to the future part which this permit would play, at the end of his travels he gladly acknowledged that it proved of the utmost utility, and there was more than one occasion on which he felt impelled to record words of gratitude towards him who had so thoughtfully provided it.

Apropos of the calling hour, it may be mentioned here that this is a social rock on which many English people strike. I use this nautical simile advisedly since, not so very long ago, no less a person than a British Admiral wishing to follow the hours to which he was accustomed paid his official call on the Dutch Naval Commander at five o'clock. The Dutch Admiral, who was not then dressed, and did not intend to dress until seven o'clock, declined to receive him at such an unusual hour, and the question of dress, always one of the first importance in the British Navy, then became rather a burning one, until tactful mediators paved the way for a more successful visit. Whereas, in the East, English people maintain their usual habits and customs—did not our grandfathers wear tall hats when pig-sticking in India?—the Dutch in Java adopt the habits and the clothes they consider most fitting for the climate. It is not intended to imply that both are loose, though certainly the former are somewhat relaxed. No visitor to the country is competent to give a judgment for or against the manners he finds there. X. longed to impress this on more than one tourist whom he met on his travels.

Few Dutch ladies in Java mind being seen in what to us appears undress—a sarong and kabaya—and frequently, when without guests, it is the custom to dine in this scanty apparel. In consequence there is a dislike to dining out, which involves the wearing of European clothes in all their fashionable tightness, and many a story is told in Batavia of sudden illness amongst lady guests during the evening—illness easily attributable to the unusual compression of garments, worn only on such rare occasions.

There is seldom necessity for dressing since Europeans scarcely ever call in Java—of ladies it may be said they never call—though in the mornings they drive round in covered carriages visiting their intimate friends, clad in the skirts of the country so universally adopted.