exploration of those parts of this region, which, being far from the coast, have been seldom or never visited by any European. And if we look at the question from the utilitarian side, the strong opinion which has been recently arrived at by practical agriculturists, that the slopes of hills in this Peninsula are admirably adapted to the growth of both tea and coffee, added to the actual successes of the Dutch and other planters of tobacco on the other side of the Straits, gives one a very high idea of what might be done by capital and enterprise in so vast an extent of country, which has hitherto been profitless, for want of human inhabitants possessed of those resources by which alone the tyranny of nature can be overcome.
And this brings us to another set of subjects upon which accurate knowledge is very much needed. I mean the present human inhabitants of Malaya, their history, their manners and customs, their religion, and their language and literature. I shall however treat the whole subject very generally.
I think no one who has lived among them can be satisfied with what is generally said in books about the character and habits of the Malays. For instance, they are constantly spoken of as if, throughout the length and breadth of the countries where they are to be found, they were, in character and disposition, and in their ways of living and thinking, one and the same. But we know that this is very far from being the case. The Malay of the coast, who is best known to travellers, is quite a different being, in a hundred respects, from the Malay of the interior. And again, the inhabitants of one island, both the dwellers on the sea board, and the peasants inland, differ from those in another island, or in a distant part of the same island. Take as an example a ease in which most of us can make the comparison from our own experience, and appreciate the points of difference. Contrast a peasant of Malacca or Johor with one of the Boyans, who enter our service in various capacities in Singapore; they are both Malays, but they are almost as unlike one another as a Hindoo and a Chinaman. The one is lively, courteous, and communicative; the other is dull, boorish, and shy. The one is idle and fond of sport, tho other is plodding and methodical; the one is very fond of talking, and little given to reading; the other has not much to say even to his own people, but keeps his master awake at night by reading or reciting, in a loud monotonous voice, long poems or stories, or chanting chapters of the Koran, which as a child be learned to read, but of which he does not understand a word. If it is said that we only see the Beyan out of his natural sphere, as an
