Siam: Its Government, Manners, Customs, &c.

SIAM:

                                  ITS
                   GOVERNMENT, MANNERS, CUSTOMS, &c.

                                  BY
                         Rev. N. A. McDONALD,
              For ten years a Missionary in that country.

                             PHILADELPHIA:
                            ALFRED MARTIEN,
                         1214 CHESTNUT STREET.
                                 1871.

      Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
                            ALFRED MARTIEN,
      In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

                             To the Memory
                  Of the Founder of Milnwood Academy,
                         REV. J. Y. McGINNES,

Who had the cause of Foreign Missions very much at heart;

AND TO ALL WHO HAVE BEEN PUPILS OF THAT INSTITUTION, THIS LITTLE VOLUME

           Is respectfully dedicated, by one of the earliest
                     Students of the Institution,

The Author.

[Illustration: The present King of Siam.]

Contents.

CHAPTER I. GEOGRAPHY

CHAPTER II. THE GOVERNMENT

CHAPTER III. RELIGION

CHAPTER IV. EDUCATION AND LITERATURE

CHAPTER V. MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

CHAPTER VI. COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

CHAPTER VII. CEREMONIES FOR THE DYING AND DEAD

CHAPTER VIII. THEORY AND PRACTICE OF MEDICINE

CHAPTER IX. FARMING AND PRODUCTS

CHAPTER X. MODE OF DIVIDING TIME

CHAPTER XI. MISSIONARY OPERATIONS

PREFACE.

In giving these pages to the public the author has no ambition to make a book. Having been invited by the Principal of Milnwood Academy, at Shade Gap, Pa., to deliver in that Institution a series of lectures, or talks, on Siam, its government, manners, customs, &c., a few friends have requested that they be reduced to paper and published, which is his only apology for giving them to the public in book form. A few additions have been made, and the facts are narrated as seen and understood by the author. In a few instances, to refresh his memory, he has referred to articles on Siam, published in the Bangkok Calendar and elsewhere. The work is intended chiefly for a class of readers who may not have access to the more pretending works recently published on that country.

N. A. M.

Shade Gap, Pa., April, 1871.

SIAM.

CHAPTER I.

GEOGRAPHY, Etc.

On my "overland" journey from Siam to the United States, through France and England, many persons were accustomed to accost me saying, "Pardon me, Sir, but what nationality is that young man who is with you?" referring to my Siamese boy. That boy, Sir, is a Siamese. "A Siamese! Well, I must confess my geography is a little shaky,—I scarcely know where Siam is,—but I remember now that is where the Siamese twins came from." Referring, of course, to those unfortunate beings who by some "lusus naturæ" are inseparably connected together, and have been obliged to spend a long life in that condition, and who have consequently become almost the only means by which their native country is known to a vast majority of Europeans. When I, in 1860, determined to go to Siam, I found it next to impossible to gather from books any reliable information concerning it, and consequently took shipping at New York almost as ignorant of the country to which I was going, as I was of the moon. Fortunately however, some of our party were returning, and before we arrived at our destination I was pretty well prepared for what I was to encounter. Geographies are nearly silent in regard to Siam, from the simple fact that geographers themselves know nothing about it. It is also to be regretted that, until very recently, chiefly all the books concerning Oriental countries were written by mere cursory travellers, whose knowledge of the countries through which they passed, or at which they touched, must necessarily have been limited, and the chief object of many of them appears to have been to make a readable book, oftentimes at the expense of truth.

You will naturally ask, where is Siam? At the extreme point of that vast continent extending from the snows of Siberia to the Equator, and terminating in the long narrow Malay peninsula, is the little island of Singapore, separated from the mainland by a narrow strait. The island is about twenty-five miles long, and about fourteen miles broad, and commands the entrance of the China sea. The English, who have ever had an eye to strategic points, and especially in the East, took possession of it in 1819, being then little more than a Malay fishing village, and a nest for pirates. The present town of Singapore, well laid out and neatly built, and situated on the southern extremity of the island commanding the anchorage, contains perhaps one hundred thousand inhabitants, whilst the principal English merchants live in palatial residences on the hills in the rear of the town. The government of the island, together with Malacca, Penang, and Province Wellesley, has lately teen transferred from the Indian Government directly to the Crown. It is a beautiful little island, with a genial climate, and I know of no place in the East where I would rather live.

Leaving Singapore, and passing through the strait, up the peninsula, over the lower part of the China sea, and up the gulf of Siam about eight hundred miles, you come to the kingdom of Siam, sandwitched between Cambodia on the east and Burmah on the west, extending from about latitude 4° to 22° north, and from longitude about 98° to 104° east; consequently there is neither frost or snow, but perpetual summer reigns. The leaves fall and are replaced by new ones, whilst those who are daily witnesses to it scarcely notice the change.

The climate of Siam is genial and healthy, but the constant heat is trying to the constitutions of Europeans, who require a change at least once in ten years. The seasons are two, the wet and the dry. From November to May scarcely a cloud obscures the sky, and no rain falls except perhaps a shower in January. The Siamese look for a shower in that month, and are disappointed if it does not come. They think it necessary for certain kinds of fruit which is just then forming, and they also think it indicative of a good rice season. I have, however, in ten years, seen January pass several times without the expected shower. From November to February the weather is delightful, being the cool season, but the thermometer is seldom lower than 64°. March and April are the hottest months, but the thermometer does not rise as high as might be expected in such a climate. I have never seen it over 98°, but on account of the long absence of rain, the ground in most places becomes dry and parched, and the rays of the sun, reflected from the heated earth, give the atmosphere a kind of bake-oven feeling, which is oftentimes hard to endure. From November to May the wind blows constantly from the northeast, and is called the "northeast monsoon." From May till November again, is the wet season, the wind blowing constantly from the southwest, and is called the "southwest monsoon," the rain falling in copious showers almost every day. The showers come in a kind of rotation. If there is one to-day at a certain hour, there will be one to-morrow an hour later. The showers are copious indeed, and sometimes one would think the "windows of heaven were opened." The lightning is vivid, and the thunder oftentimes terrific.

Whither the name Siam came, or whence it is derived, it is now impossible to tell. The Siamese themselves know nothing of it, only as it is applied to their country by Europeans. The name they apply to their country is "Muang Thai," the free country, in distinction from those countries which are tributary. The name Siam, however, is now coming into common use, and is sometimes inserted in public documents.

The geology of Siam is simple, the lower portion near the gulf being an alluvial deposit, the result of the annual overflowing of the rivers, which takes place at the close of every rainy season. The water from the copious rains rushes down from the mountains up the country, and overflows the lowlands, enriching them and causing them to produce abundant crops of rice. The mountains are volcanic, and some of them have the appearance of having been thrown from a distance and set down in their present positions.

Many of them are barren of almost everything green, presenting to the eye but little that is attractive, but others, especially in the North Laos country, present scenery indescribably grand. In many places, especially along the seacoast, the old granite, the foundation of all things, geologically speaking, comes to the surface, and even projects out in bold bluffs and headlands. The rocks on many of the mountains present the appearance of having at one time been lashed by the waves of the sea, and there is abundant evidence that much of the lower country has been redeemed from the sea at no very remote period.

The country is drained by three streams of considerable size, which empty into the gulf. The principal one is put down on our maps as the Menam, but called by the Siamese Menam Chow Phya, Menam being the generic name for river, meaning mother of water, and Chow Phya being the specific name for that particular river. Were it not for a sandbar at its mouth, it would be navigable for the largest class of vessels to Bangkok, but on that account the largest vessels are obliged to anchor in the roadstead outside. The Bampakong on the east, and Tacheen on the west, are also streams of some importance. Besides these, there are also a number of smaller streams.

Bangkok, the capital of the kingdom, is situated on both sides of the Menam Chow Phya, about twenty-five miles from its mouth. It contains about four hundred thousand inhabitants, and has been called the Venice of the East, from the fact that much of the city is floating on the river in the form of floating houses. These floating houses are a kind of nondescript affair, and it is impossible to give one who has never seen them any idea of them. The following description, by the oldest missionary in Siam, and published in the Bangkok Calendar of 1866, though quite too elaborate for easy reading, is as good as anything that can be given, and I shall insert it "in toto."

"Our friends in the western world have heard a good deal about the floating houses of Bangkok, but they universally speak of being unable to understand, after all that has been written, what kind of things they are. If the descriptions that have been given of them could have always been accompanied by good photographic pictures of the same, our friends would have had much less difficulty in understanding them. But such pictures are too expensive to procure for illustrating 'The Bangkok Calendar,' which never pays for its cost, and hence we must do the next best thing, and that is to descend into quite minute detail, if we would make our friends who have never visited Bangkok understand such unique structures as the floating houses of the city. And as these houses form a large part of the dwellings and mercantile shops of this great metropolis, being the most conspicuous of all buildings (the temples only excepted) as you pass up and down the Menam Chow Phya, the 'Broadway' of Bangkok, they seem to demand a minute description in 'The Calendar.' These floating houses are moored on both sides of the river for a distance of nearly three miles. Their size, on an average, is about forty by thirty feet on the base; in height, eight feet to the eves, and fifteen feet to the ridge of the roof. As this base could not be covered by a roof of only two sides, and make it sufficiently steep to shed rain well, without being too high for safety on the river in time of a squall, the natives divide the area to be covered into two nearly equal parts, and put a two-sided roof over each division, thatched with the attap palm leaf, (cocos nipa.) The two eves that thus meet in the middle of the house have an eve-trough common to both of them, which is always seen in the house about eight feet from the floor, passing uniformly in the direction of the river. Hence nearly all these floating houses appear to be double, standing sidewise to the river, the ridge of the front being a little lower than the one behind it. There is always a narrow verandah four or five feet wide attached to the front division, which is covered with an extra roof of attap leaves, extending from under the main point roof, with a more gentle slope than the front roof, and then, in front of these, there is usually a small bamboo float from three to five feet wide. This is sometimes extended the whole length of the house, and sometimes only from three to ten feet. The eve of the verandah is not more than six feet above the floor. From this there is often suspended a bamboo mat, or some other material more tasty, for a screen from the glare of the river. The ends of the two double roofs are all furnished precisely alike with a peculiar kind of moulding made of a thin plank tastefully curved at the bottom, like the written capital A, and put up edgewise at the extreme end, to constitute a neat finish for the thatching. The triangular area made by each double roof at the ends is generally closed with attap thatching; sometimes with bamboo matting, sometimes with wooden pannelled work, sometimes with a regular clap-boarding, and rarely with woodwork radiating from the lower side of the triangle upwards.

"These floating houses are always divided into two main rooms—the front and inner one. The floor of the latter is about one foot higher than the front. There are narrow passages five feet wide at the right and left of these rooms, which are simply enclosed verandahs, with each an attap roof, leading to a narrow room of the same width and kind in the extreme rear. The front room is used for the purpose of a variety-store, and the inner one for a bed-room.

"In it you will generally find the family idol-altar, if the occupant be a Chinese. It is often used for putting away lots of goods, a few samples of which are daily exposed for sale in the front room. These exhibitions are made on a kind of amphitheatre-formed shelving facing the river, so that every article can be seen at a glance by passers-by in boats. The whole front is exposed to view in the daytime, not by opening all the doors and windows, but by taking down much of the front siding, which consists of boards varying from ten to twelve inches in width, standing up endwise, and fitted into grooves above and below. These boards are slid out early every morning, one by one, and laid away out of sight under the floor, in a place reserved for them during the day. Early in the evening each board is put in its place for closing up the front of the shop, leaving not the least door or window by which one may have direct access to it. But there is a small door in front of each of the narrow passages in the extreme rear.

"This narrow room is commonly used for the purposes of a cook-room. The fire place is simply a shallow wooden box filled with clay. There is no chimney or stovepipe attached to any of them. In the place of one they make a scuttle hole in the thatched roof only six feet above, and this has a trap door made of the same material as the roof, which can be closed in rainy weather. Even in the best weather only a part of the smoke escapes through the opening, while the remainder finds its way out in all quarters. Consequently this little cook-room is always a very smoky place, and is blackened with soot to a greater or less extent, as are also many other parts of the establishment.

"Some better-to-do occupants of these floating houses have a small bamboo caboose, moored at one end of the dwelling house. The floating houses are usually enclosed with teak boards standing up endwise, and permanently fixed into grooves above and below. Sometimes the siding is made of bamboo wattling.

"It remains to be shown the mode of buoying up the floating houses above the water, which being quite unique, deserves a particular description. In the sills of the house are framed five rows of scantling, four-by-six inches or larger, which descend into the water five or six feet. These are so arranged that they divide the whole area underneath the sills into four equal parts, or, as the Siamese say, hawngs, or sections, for filling with bamboo poles. The first object of these five rows of legs, bounding as they do the four equal divisions, is to prevent the bamboo poles from rolling out sideways under the pressure of the superincumbent house; and the other is to render it quite convenient to exchange every year old and rotten bamboos for new ones. Now a new set of bamboos will serve well the purposes of a buoy only about two years; and to save the trouble of exchanging all under the house at once, the natives manage to exchange only half of them annually, so that the house is not for a moment left without enough to keep it well out of the water. This is done by removing all the bamboos from one or two of the divisions which have been in use two years, and filling their places with new ones. The divisions which have bamboos of one year's service remain undisturbed until next year; when their time has expired, they too are cast out to give place to others. Thus there are always left two divisions of the last year's bamboos to serve in conjunction with two divisions of new ones. The annual cost of new bamboos for a floating house of medium size is not far from forty Ticals, and the number of bamboo poles required is from five to eight hundred.

"As these floating houses are generally moored close together, standing end to end, in an even line in the direction of the river, it becomes necessary that the house which is to be replenished with bamboos should be moved out a little in front of its neighbor's, thus making room for sliding out the old bamboos from either end, and sliding in new ones to fill their places. There are men who follow this business as their profession, and do it very dextrously. One day is quite sufficient to accomplish the whole work for any house. The bamboos, it scarcely need be said, are slender poles, from three to four inches in diameter at the butt-end, and not more than half that size at the top. They are from twenty-five to thirty feet in length. The top ends of the poles are always the ones that are pushed under the house, and consequently are hidden, while the butt-ends are always external, forming an even surface at each end of the house. The poles being about three-fourths the length of the house, the smaller extremities consequently overlap each other from eight to ten feet, and make an equal thickness of buoying material beneath the middle of the house, with that of each end.

"A house newly buoyed up looks quite tidy and dry, its floors being from three to four feet above water. The houses are kept in their places, forming a regular line with their fellows, thirty feet or more from shore, by means of three or four teak posts or piles, driven at each end into the soft bottom of the river six or eight feet; and these are made mutual supporters of each other by lashing a bamboo pole across them all near their tops. The house is then fastened to these posts by means of bands or hoops encircling very loosely each post, so that they shall readily slip up and down as the tide raises the house or causes it to settle down. For this purpose it is indispensable that there be no notches or knots on the posts that shall cause the hoops to catch on them. Such a notch would cause the post to be drawn up out of its place in a flowing tide, and would sink it deeper in an ebbing one. While sitting in these houses you will often hear a crack, and consequent sudden sinking of the house, caused by the sliding of a hoop out of the place where it had been caught on the posts. Where the water is unusually deep where a floating house is moored, and the bottom of the river unstable, you will see the tops of the mooring posts made fast by a cable to something firm on shore. Sometimes the whole gives way notwithstanding, and then the house is adrift at the mercy of the tide. The writer was once in a floating house that had got adrift in the night time, and floated down the river many miles before it could be made to submit to the power of the ropes and cables, with which we endeavoured many times in vain to stop her downward way. She would snap our stoutest ropes, as Samson did all the instruments with which his enemies bound him. These floating houses are often moved from place to place, and it is no uncommon thing to see one floating up or down the river with the family in, and everything going on as regularly within as if it was snugly moored."

The buildings on shore belonging to the chief princes and nobles, are built of rough brick and stuccoed inside and out. The style of architecture is a kind of Siamo-Chinese. The next best kind of house consists of posts sunk into the ground, which constitute the frame work, whilst the sides are made of boards wrought into a kind of pannel work. This is called a "ruen fa kadan," or weatherboarded house. These are the houses of the poorer princes and nobles, and the better class of the common people. The houses of the poorer classes of the common people are made on the same plan, only the sides are constructed of bamboo wattling. These are called "ruen fa tak," or open-sided house.

The river is the "Broadway" of the city, whilst canals form the principal cross streets or avenues. Chiefly all travel in the city, and indeed everywhere in Siam, is done in boats. If a person wishes to go to church, to market, to call on a friend—in short, any where, he goes in a boat. The rivers are the great avenues of trade, whilst the whole country near the Gulf is intersected by a network of canals. But in those portions distant from the rivers or canals resort must be had to ox-carts and elephants.

Siam is the genial land of the elephant. He roams wild in her forests, but those which have not at least been partially tamed are now becoming scarce. He constitutes in the northern provinces the chief beast of burden, and one of the special uses to which he is put, is drawing timber from the forest to the bank of the river, where it can be formed into rafts and floated to market. I have seen a huge elephant with his tusks and trunk roll a large log up a declivity more quickly and dextrously than a dozen men would have done it.

Siam has also been denominated the land of the "white elephant," from the peculiar reverence shown for that animal. There is, however, no such thing as a white elephant. The standing color is black, but occasionally one is found which by some freak in nature is a kind of Albino, or flesh color. He comes as near the color of a badly burned brick as anything else. The Siamese do not call him a white elephant, but a "chang puak," a strange colored elephant. From time immemorial the Siamese have considered this strange colored animal the emblem of good luck, and the king, who has had the greatest number of them, is handed down in history as the most fortunate monarch. A certain king had at one time three of them. The king of Burmah sent an embassy, asking one as a special favor, which was emphatically denied. At this the king of Burmah took umbrage, and sent an army and took the whole of them. When one is found in the forest, word is sent immediately to the capital, and preparations are made for conducting him to the palace with the greatest honors and religious ceremonies. He is enthroned in a palace within the walls of the king's palace, and is henceforth fed on the luxuries of the land. He seldom, however, lives long, being killed with kindness. He would be much happier and his life would be considerably prolonged by allowing him to roam in his native forest. The finder of such an elephant too, is generally handsomely rewarded. Some travellers have stated that the white elephant is worshipped, but I have never seen anything of the kind, nor do I believe it. He is, however, held in peculiar reverence, because he is considered the emblem of good luck. The flag of the country is the flag of the white elephant. I am told that some Frenchman has lately written a book, in which he states that he has in his possession a hair from the tail of the white elephant of Siam, which he obtained at great sacrifice, and even risk of his life. The hair he may have, but the rest is imaginary.

The present population of Siam cannot be much short of eight millions. The Siamese proper are evidently an off-shoot from the Mongolian race, but by what admixtures they have arrived at their present status it would be difficult to ascertain. Some one has given the following description of them, which is substantially correct. "The average height is five feet three inches, arms long, limbs large, and bodies inclined to obesity. The face is broad and flat, the cheek bones high, and the whole face assumes a lozenge shape. The nose is small, mouth wide, and lips thick, but not protruding. The eyes are small and black, and the forehead low. The complexion rather inclined to a yellowish hue. The whole physiognomy has a sullen aspect, and the gait sluggish." The Siamese, as a general thing, do not tattoo their bodies as many eastern nations do.

CHAPTER II.

THE GOVERNMENT.

Siam proper is divided into fifty-eight provinces, which are each presided over by a Governor appointed by the Central Government at Bangkok. There are also several Malay states down the peninsula, and six or eight petty Laos kingdoms north of Siam proper which are tributary to the king of Siam. These Laos kingdoms pay a small annual tribute, and the King of Siam claims the prerogative of nominating a successor to the throne, when a vacancy occurs. This successor is taken of course from their own princes, but receives his insignia of office from the King of Siam. Aside from this, each of those kings is absolute in his own dominions. All the tributary states, however, are virtually under the Protectorate of the King of Siam, he being Lord paramount, or Suzerain.

The civil government is divided amongst the three principal ministers of state, Chow Phya Pra Kalehome, Chow Phya Puterapei, and Chow Phya Praklang. The Kalehome has special charge of the provinces to the west and southwest, and is Prime Minister, having charge of everything pertaining to army and navy. Puterapei has charge of the provinces to the north, and is over everything that pertains to habitations and dwellings of the people. The Praklang has charge of the provinces to the southeast, and is over all foreign interests, all vessels of trade foreign and domestic, and has charge to a certain extent of the treasury, hence the name Praklang. This was the arrangement under the late reign, and I presume it is very little changed, if any, as yet under the present.

The king is an absolute despot. No hereditary aristocracy or legislative assemblies control his will. There is an aristocracy or nobility, it is true, but their power is not felt only as instruments in carrying out the will of the king. The people exist for the monarch, and not the monarch for the people. The laws, as a general thing, are laws of the king and not of the country. The old adage, "New kings make new laws," is often literally true in Siam, providing the new sovereign is so disposed. He is absolute master of the persons, property, liberty and lives of his subjects. In speaking of him they do not say he rules or governs, but he "eats the kingdom," which is too often literally true. Almost any man in the kingdom is liable to be drafted at any time to do king's work, and the descendants of captives of war, such as Cambodians, Peguins, Burmese, &c., are obliged to render three months service, or its equivalent, to the government annually. The person of the king is held in extreme sacredness and reverence, and in addressing him the same titles and attributes are applied to him which are applied to Budha. For one of his subjects to inquire after the king's health would be an almost unpardonable offence, as it is presumed that the king never takes sick, or dies, as common people do. Some of these absurd ideas appeared in the late reign to have become obsolete, but are evidently being renewed again in the present. Formerly the king was both a monopolist and a trader, claiming exclusive right over such commodities as tin, ivory, cardamums, eagle-wood, Sapan-wood, gamboge, &c., but when the late king entered into treaty relations with the western powers, this monopoly was in a great measure yielded.

It is strange to say that this monarchy is not hereditary—that is, not in the sense that that term is understood in Europe. There is what is called the Senabodee, or Royal Counsellors, consisting of the chief ministers of state, who during the life of the king are merely silent counsellors, but upon his death their power becomes manifest, and upon them devolves the responsibility of selecting a successor, and governing the kingdom until such successor is chosen. The successor must be a prince of the realm, but not necessarily the eldest son of the late king—indeed, not necessarily a son of his at all.

The death of the late king occurred about nine o'clock, P. M. The Prime Minister was immediately summoned to the palace, who convened the Senabodee, and before midnight the succession was determined, and everything going on smoothly. They chose in this instance the eldest son of the late king, Somdetch Chowfa Chulalangkorn, a boy about sixteen years old.

His coronation took place on Wednesday, November 11, 1868, being the day decided upon by the Brahmin astrologers as the one most propitious. At this coronation there was a slight innovation upon the usual Siamese custom. No European had ever before witnessed the coronation ceremonies of any king of Siam. The late king, after his coronation, wrote a private note to some of his European friends, stating that he would have been glad to have had them present, but "state reasons forbade it." The number of Europeans present at the coronation proper of the present king were few, consisting of the consuls of the different treaty powers, with their suites; the officers of H. B. M.'s gunboat Avon, and a few others. The writer held at the time the seals of the United States Consulate, and was the only representative of our government in the kingdom, and consequently received an invitation, which might not have been accorded to him as a mere missionary. The company of Siamese present was equally select, consisting only of the chief princes and nobles of the kingdom.

The hour named was six o'clock, A.M., but owing to some delay it was nearly eight when we passed into a small triangular court, facing one of the doors of the inner audience hall. In front of the door of the hall stood an elevated platform richly gilded, and upon that platform was placed a very large golden basin. Within that basin was a golden tripod, or three-legged stool. Over the platform was a quadrangular canopy, and over the canopy was the nine-storied umbrella, tapering in the form of a pagoda. Over the centre of the canopy was a vessel containing consecrated water, said to have been prayed over nine times, and poured through nine different circular vessels before reaching the top of the canopy. This water is collected from the chief rivers of Siam, and at a point above tidal influence, and is constantly kept on hand, in reservoirs near the temples in the capital. In the vessel was placed a tube or syphon, representing the pericarp of the lotus flower, after the petals have fallen off. At a flourish of crooked trumpets, resembling rams' horns, the king elect descended from the steps of the hall, arrayed in a simple waist-cloth of white muslin, with a piece of the same material thrown over his shoulders, and took his seat upon the tripod in the basin. A Brahmin priest approached him and offered him some water in a golden lotus-shaped cup, into which he dipped his hand, and rubbed it over his head. This was the signal for the pulling of a rope, and letting loose the sacred water above in the form of a shower-bath upon his person. This shower-bath represents the Tewadas, or Budhist angels, sending blessings upon His Majesty. A Budhist priest then approached and poured a goblet of water over his person. Next came the Brahmin priests and did the same. Next came the chief princes, uncles of the king; next two aged princesses, his aunts. The vessels used by these princes and princesses were conch-shells, tipped with gold. Then came the chief nobles, each with a vessel of a different material, such as gold, silver, pinchbeck, earthenware, &c. Then, last of all, the Prime Minister with a vessel of iron. This finished the royal bath. He then descended from the stool in a shivering state, and was divested of his wet clothes, and was arrayed in regal robes of golden cloth, studded with diamonds. In the south end of the audience hall was an octagonal throne, having eight sides, corresponding to the eight points of the compass. He first seated himself on the side facing the north, passing around toward the east. In front of each side of the throne was crouched a Budhist and a Brahmin priest, who presented him with a bowl of water, of which he drank and rubbed some on his face. At each side they read to him a prayer, to which he responded. I was too far off to hear all, but the following is said to be a translation of it.

Priest. "Be thou learned in the laws of nature and of the universe."

King. "Inspire me, O Thou who wert a law unto thyself."

P. "Be thou endowed with all wisdom and all acts of industry."

K. "Inspire me with all knowledge, O Thou, the enlightened."

P. "Let mercy and truth be thy right and left arms of life."

K. "Inspire me, O Thou who hast proved all truth and mercy."

P. "Let the sun, moon, and stars bless thee."

K. "All praise to Thee, through whom all forms are conquered."

P. "Let the earth, air, and water bless thee."

K. "Through the merit of Thee, O Thou conqueror of death."

He was then conducted to the north end of the hall, and was seated upon another throne. The insignia of Royalty were then presented to him. They were handed to him by his uncle, Prince Chowfa Maha Mala. First came the sword, then the sceptre, then two massive gold chains in a casket, which he suspended around his shoulders. Then came the crown, which he placed on his own head, and at that instant the royal salute proclaimed him King, under the title of Prabat Somdetch Pra Paramendr Maha Chulalang Korn Kate Klou Yu Hua. Then came the golden slippers, the fan, the umbrella, two large massive rings set with huge diamonds, which he placed on each of his forefingers. Then one of each of the Siamese weapons of war were handed him, which he received and handed back. The Brahmins then wound up with a short address, to which he briefly responded. He then distributed a few gold and silver flowers amongst his friends, and the Europeans then withdrew to breakfast, which had been prepared for them. It may be asked why the Brahmins officiate so much when Siam is emphatically a Budhist country. I have asked several well-informed noblemen for the reason, but have as yet been unable to ascertain the true reason. No one appeared able to give any true reason. There are a number of Brahmins in the country, but their existence is scarcely ever noticed except on some such occasion as the above.

At 11 o'clock, A.M., the new king appeared for the first time before his whole Court. The outer audience hall was richly decorated and spread with rich Brussels carpet. When the Foreign Consuls entered in a body the whole Siamese Court was prostrate on their knees and elbows on the carpet. Very soon the king entered, arrayed in regal robes, and wearing his crown, and seated himself upon the throne. The whole Court simultaneously placed the palms of their hands together, and then raising them up to the forehead, bowed their heads three times to the floor. The chief ministers of state then formally delivered over their several departments to the new monarch, to whom he briefly responded. Senhor G. F. Vianna, Esq., Consul-General for Portugal, his being the oldest consulate, then on behalf of the consuls present read a short congratulatory address, which called forth another brief response, and the audience retired.

The public audiences of European ambassadors and officials are extremely ridiculous. I have been present on several such occasions, both as Vice-Consul and as Interpreter to others. The King is seated upon his throne, and the whole court resting on their knees and elbows before him, with their "beam ends" turned up to the gaze. All communication must be held through the Court Speaker. When I went as Interpreter, the communication was given me in English, which I rendered into Siamese to the Speaker. He would then commence by ascribing to the King a long "rigmarole" of titles and attributes, at the same time apparently so much afraid that he scarcely knew what he was doing, and by the time he was ready to deliver my communication he had forgotten about half of it. When he received the King's reply, he had to repeat the same nonsense, and by the time he was ready to give the message to me there was but little of it left. Had I not been able myself to catch it directly from the King's lips, the interview would have been most unsatisfactory.

The present King is about sixteen years old, and is apparently a sprightly, good-looking boy. His father, some time before his death, had employed an English governess for the palace, and the present king, in common with all the royal children, received from her some knowledge of the English language, and probably a smattering of some of the sciences; but when he ascended the throne, instead of employing for him a tutor capable of instructing him in the sciences, and the different forms of government, everything of the kind was abandoned, and he was allowed to give himself up almost wholly to women, which is likely to destroy in a great measure any original talent he may have had. It is now difficult to tell what he will be by the time he arrives at an age suitable to assume the responsibility of the government. He is also at present very much secluded from Europeans. His father, vain of his knowledge of English, and the advancement he had made in the sciences, which, to say the least, was truly commendable, was very fond of European society, and was accessible at almost any time by the better classes of Europeans in Siam, but the son, for reasons best known to those in authority, is at present cut off from all such intercourse. I have also been informed that he has removed from the palace the fine European furniture placed there by his father, and is replacing it with Chinese furniture, which looks like a step backwards.

The government at present is in the hands of His Excellency Chow Phya Sri Surywongse, with the title of Regent. He was Prime Minister during the late reign, and consequently chief of the Senabodee. He is also a man of undoubted ability, coupled with the usual oriental shrewdness and low cunning, and is with all extremely selfish and moody. His love for Europeans and western civilization is not very great, only so far as he can use them to his own advantage; he is however, too shrewd a man to do anything which would interfere with the European trade, or violate the existing treaties. The country is perhaps better governed now than ever it has been before.

His younger half-brother. Chow Phya Bhanuwongse, is Minister of Foreign Affairs. He is a free, affable, gentlemanly man, and is perhaps more free from that extreme selfishness which constitutes so large an element in Siamese character, than any man in the kingdom. He has been to Europe, and has profited much by the trip. His eldest son is now in King's College, London. The Foreign Minister is, however, too near the shadow of his greater brother to act out his natural character, especially in his official capacity.

During the last and present reigns, Siam has been the mildest and best heathen government on the face of the globe. Oppressions from high quarters are very rare. Petty officers sometimes take advantage of their positions to "squeeze" the poor. Redress for such grievances can always be had by appealing to headquarters, but there are usually so many unchained lions in the way that such a course is seldom resorted to.

There is also a Second King, which is merely a nominal title without any of the responsibility of the government. He is surrounded by his court, and has nearly all the honors of the First King shown him, but has nothing to do with government except amongst his own personal adherents. Even at the death of the First King he does not assume, even temporally, any authority. He may be chosen First King. A few instances are on record in which this has been the case. The son of the late Second King now occupies the second throne, under the title of Krom Pra Raja Bowawn Sahthan Mongkoon. This prince is better known to Europeans by the name of George Washington, a name given him when a boy, either by his father, or by some of the American missionaries who taught him English. His father is said to have manifested a great love for the memory of Washington. The Second King is now about thirty-five years old, has a pretty good knowledge of English, some knowledge of the sciences, western civilization and governments, is polite and gentlemanly in his manners, and apparently very friendly to Europeans. He is also well liked by all Europeans. The commander of one of our United States war vessels, after an audience with the Second King, remarked to me on retiring from the palace, "That is the man who should have been First King." The title of Second King appears to have been originally established to satisfy the disappointed one of two rival princes.

The Siamese have an excellent code of civil and criminal laws, if they were properly enforced, but, unfortunately, the Judiciary are so corrupt that justice is seldom meted out, the one paying the largest bribe generally gets the case. The Lord Mayor's and Sub-Mayor's Courts are the chief criminal courts in the city. There are also within the palace walls several other courts, chiefly for civil cases, and presided over by the chief Ministers of State. There is also an International Court, established by the late King, for the investigation of those cases in which both Siamese and the subjects of treaty powers are involved. Besides these, every prince of rank is vested with judicial powers, and can hold court at his own palace. The courts in the provinces are presided over by the provincial governors, but those governors have not the power of life and death unless delegated to them, in a special emergency, by the King. The judge of any court is vested with full powers to investigate and decide any case, subject, however, to an appeal to the King. There is, however, seldom such an appeal, as, in other instances of oppression, the unchained lions in the way are numerous. There are associate or assistant judges, but they are simply for the investigation of minor cases. The judge places his mat down on the floor in one end of the court-room, upon which he places a three-cornered pillow, and then places himself in a reclining position. The litigants are crouching around him, presenting their cases, and the whole thing frequently turns into a general conversation and brow-beating. There is nothing like a jury. The witnesses are taken out to a Budhist temple, where the following ironclad oath is administered to them. "I, who have been brought here as a witness in this matter, do now, in the presence of the sacred image of Budha, declare that I am wholly unprejudiced against either party, and uninfluenced in any way by the opinions or advice of others; that no prospects of pecuniary advantage or advancement to office have been held out to me. I also declare that I have not received any bribe on this occasion. If what I have now to say be false, or if in my further averments I shall color or pervert the truth so as to lead the judgment of others astray, may the Three Holy Existences before whom I now stand, together with the glorious Tewadas of the twenty-two firmaments, punish me. If I have not seen, and yet shall say I have seen; if I shall say I know that which I do not know, then may I be thus punished. Should innumerable descents of Deity happen for the regeneration and salvation of mankind, may my erring and migratory soul be found beyond the pale of their mercy. Wherever I go may I be compassed with dangers, and not escape from them, whether murderers, robbers, spirits of the earth, woods, or water, or air, or all the divinities who adore Budha; or from the gods of the four elements, and all other spirits. May blood flow out of every pore of my skin, that my crime may be made manifest to the world. May all or any of these evils overtake me within three days, or may I never stir from the spot on which I now stand; or may the lightning cut me in two, so that I may be exposed to the derision of the people; or if I should be walking abroad, may I be torn in pieces by either of the supernaturally endowed lions, or destroyed by poisonous serpents. If on the water of the river or ocean, may supernatural crocodiles or great fish devour me; or may the winds and waves overwhelm me, or may the dread of such evils keep me a prisoner during life at home, estranged from every pleasure. May I be afflicted with intolerable oppression of my superiors, or may a plague cause my death; after which may I be precipitated into hell, there to go through innumerable stages of torture, amongst which may I be condemned to carry water over the flaming regions in wicker baskets, to assuage the heat of Than Tretonwan, when he enters the infernal hell of justice, and thereafter may I fall into the lowest pit of hell; or if these miseries should not ensue, may I after death migrate into the body of a slave, and suffer all the pain and hardship attending the worst state of such a being, during the period measured by the sand of the sea; or may I animate the body of an animal or beast during five hundred generations, or be born a hermaphrodite five hundred times, or endure in the body of a deaf, dumb, blind, and houseless beggar every species of disease, during the same number of generations; and then may I be buried to narok, and there be crucified by Phya Yam."

They have also a way of extorting confessions from criminals, which is terribly severe. The first way is by the use of the lash or ratan. He first receives ninety stripes, and then, if he don't confess, he is allowed a respite of a few days and receives ninety more; and if he stills holds out, he is allowed another respite, and receives ninety the third time. Any one who can endure three times ninety without confessing is presumed to be innocent. They have also other modes, by putting split bamboos on their fingers, something like the thumb screw of old. Persons often confess when they are innocent, from fear of the torture.

They punish with death murder, highway-robbery, and treason. Their mode of execution is decapitation. The criminals are brought out in chains, and a clamp consisting of two bamboo poles is placed on the neck. He is then made to sit down on the ground, the one end of the clamp resting on the ground. They then most generally drug the criminal, so as to produce stupor, amounting oftentimes to unconsciousness, and also stop up their ears with soft mud. At a signal the executioner runs out with a sword and cuts off the head. He generally does it very neatly with one stroke, but I have known one or two instances in which the executioner, to give him nerve, took quite too much liquor, and made wonderful hacking of it.

Corporal punishment with the ratan is very common—so common that there is little or no stigma attached to it. I have known high officers to be severely thrashed. On public occasions I have seen those in charge of certain things, who displeased the King, taken out and thrashed. They were made to lie down on their face on the pavement, and a man stood over with a ratan and put it down in no light manner, the victim crying, "Ooey! ooey!" at every stroke. So you perceive that it may in some respects be called a ratan government.

The revenue of the country is derived from various sources. Certain things are sold out by the government to the highest bidder, who, when he receives it, has full control of the whole matter. He sub-lets again to other minor parties and retailers, and has full powers to punish all those who violate the right which he has so dearly purchased. These are called farms. The most lucrative is the opium farm. There is also the spirit farm, that is liquor distilled from rice; the gambling farm; the rice farm; the cocoanut-oil farm, and some others. There is also a tax on fisheries, on trading-boats, on fruit orchards, on shops and stores; an export duty on rice, and an import duty of three per cent, on all goods imported. There is also a triennial poll tax of about two dollars on every Chinaman in the kingdom, which amounts to a large sum every three years.

CHAPTER III.

RELIGION.

The religion of Siam is Budhism. It would however be impossible on an occasion of this kind to give any extended outline of Budhism, and besides this the principal works on that subject in the English language are dry and uninteresting to the general reader or listener. Any translations from the Budhist classics must also be necessarily stiff, and many of the names unintelligible, unless accompanied with explanations; I shall only, therefore, give as brief an outline as I can of the Budhist faith, and describe, as nearly as possible, the manner in which it is practised in Siam.

Budhism arose from a man of royal blood called Gautama, but by the Siamese, Somanakodome. His father ruled a small kingdom in the province of Oude, near the Himelaya mountains. Gautama died probably about 534 B.C., and is supposed to have been nearly cotemporary with the prophet Daniel. Becoming disgusted with the luxuries and pleasures of courtly life he adopted that of a hermit, and like all hermits became an enthusiast, and fancied that he had found the only true road to all good, and thus leaped from the circle of eternal transmigration into a "sublimation of existence that has no attribute and knows no change."

The late king of Siam speaks of the founder of the Budhist faith thus: "Budha was a man who came into being on a certain time, by ordinary generation; that he was a most extraordinary man, more mysterious and wonderful than all heavenly beings, because he made vast merit by the use of his body, his words and his will. He reigned as king twenty-nine years, (meaning doubtless that he lived in princely state until twenty-nine years old); that he then practised the most severe asceticism, and with the greatest assiduity for a period of six years, when his mind became so sublimated and refined that he habitually numbered and measured every thought he had, fixing his mind upon that single object, to the utter exclusion of every other care, and that consequently he attained to the highest perfection, not knowing anything alike of happiness or sorrow, being in a middle state between the two; and as a result of this, he then had power to remember many of the transmigrations of being through which he had come, and could see with angelic eyes distinctly all the various and numberless transmigrations of human, angelic, and animal being throughout the universe; and thence onward to the time of his death he gave his mind entirely to the destroying of sin in his own body and soul, and became the most pure and spotless, not only externally, but also in all the secret recesses of his life and soul, and thence is worthily denominated Arahang. He then saw by his own power alone, that all the forms and bodies which merit and demerit have caused to come into being, and all other things which exist without any cause, are altogether illusive, unreal, unsubstantial, and evanescent; without a maker, proprietor, or lord, and that hence is he also Samma Sampootó. This says he is the sacred Budh, whom others before us have thus eulogized as having come into the world, and lived in it, and is commonly called according to his family name, Gótama. He spent forty-five years in publishing the way to holiness and substantial and eternal peace, and then extinguished his life, and departed into Nipán."

The pantheism of Brahminism had by long operation produced that sluggishness of mind—its legitimate fruit—and confounded the Deity with his works, and making it appear that the aggregate of creation is itself God. In opposition to this, Budhism produced the doctrine that all forms are mere illusions, and that will, purpose, action, feeling, thought, desire, love, hatred, and every other attribute that can be predicated of the mind, is unstable, and unreal, and therefore cannot be associated with perfect peace. A state of "sublimation of existence above all qualities," is the only thing that is real and substantial. Budha has attained to that state which is called in the Pali Nirwana, but by the Siamese Nipán. The literal meaning of the word is, "absence of all desire," which involves an absence of thought, and may hence be called a state of dreamless perpetual sleep. To attain to that state the Budhist dogma, that all things which appear in creation are illusive, and unreal, and consequently unsubstantial, must be firmly fixed upon the mind. This lesson, however, can only be learned by the most studious application of the mind, and moral discipline by self-denial during a period of at least 100,000 transmigrations. To our mind Nipán is nothing but annihilation, but Budhists will not admit it to be such, but maintain that Budha has a perpetual existence there, Nipán is the Budhist's highest idea of happiness. Omnipotence may be attained by perfect virtue, abstinence, thought, and meditation.

Fatality is the cause of creation. The universe came into existence by the inherent force of fixed and invariable laws, which brings the worlds out of chaos, and conducts them on by gradation to a state of high perfection, and then downward again by the same gradation to dissolution, and then back again, upward and downward in a series that had no beginning, and will have no end. If any Siamese in the kingdom be asked who made the world, he will invariably answer "pen eng," it made itself.

The teachings of Budha appear to have been transmitted by tradition for about four hundred and fifty years after his death, and were then committed to writing by the authority of a Budhist Council.

The Budhist system of the universe is found in a book called the Trei Poom, or a book settling all questions about the existence of the three worlds. The Trei Poom of the Siamese was originally translated from the Pali. The work was doubtless originally written in Ceylon, and carried thence to all Budhist countries. The Rev. Dr. Bradley, the oldest missionary in Siam, has prepared an abstract from the Trei Poom, and published in the Bangkok Calendar, from which I shall make a few extracts on the present occasion.

The universe consists of an infinite number of systems, called by the Siamese Chackrawan. Each Chackrawan has a sun, moon and stars revolving around the top of a central mountain, called Kow Pra Men, which extends above the surface of the ocean about 840,000 miles, and the same distance into the ocean. It forms a perfect circle, having a circumference equal to 2,520,000 miles. Parallel to the circle it describes, and at a distance of 420,000 miles, is the first of seven circular mountains, being variously distant from each other. Their depth in water is the same as their height above it. The names, height, circumference, &c., of these mountains are all given, but would occupy too much space to enumerate here. Between each of the seven mountains is a sea called Seetawtara Samoot. The width and depth of each is as the distance between the mountains which bound it, and the depth of the mountains below the surface of the water. The water is exceedingly refined and light. The fish that live in those seas are wonderful for variety and size, being many thousand miles long. Parallel with the circle described by the seventh mountain, and 5,513,650 miles from it, is a circular glass mountain, called Kow Chakrawan. This mountain forms the horizontal boundary of the system. Its height is 820,000 miles, and its thickness 120,000. The circular area which this mountain encloses is 12,034,500 miles in diameter. The circumference of the mountains on the outside is 136,035,500 miles. The water on both sides is 820,000 miles deep. The width of the ocean between it and Kow Asa Kan is 3,513,650 miles. Within this vast expanse of water are situated the four grand divisions of the populated plane or surface of the Chakrawan. These are called Taweeps, which, for want of a better term to express them, have been translated continents. These all have their appropriate names. The first, in its horizontal contour, is shaped somewhat like the face of a man, and hence is inhabited by mankind with faces like itself. The second has a form like a half-moon, and is inhabited by an intelligent race with semi-circular faces. The third is a perfect square, and is inhabited by square-faced beings. The fourth is circular, and is inhabited by beings having faces like the full moon. The distance from each Taweep to Kow Chakrawan is 2,798,600 miles. Each Chakrawan system is underlaid by a body of water independent of their oceans. The distance from the surface of the earth to it is 260,000 miles, and the depth of it is 480,000 miles. Underlying this body there is a stratum of air 960,000 miles in depth, and thence downward there is nothing but an open and utter void.

Each Chackrawan has attached to it, somewhere in the subterranean regions, eight chief hells, called by the Siamese Narok, meaning worlds of utter misery. Each of these hells has attached to it sixteen smaller ones, making one hundred and twenty-eight in all. Outside of these there is another range of purgatories, forty to each chief hell, making in all three hundred and seventy.

Each Chakrawan has attached to it six inferior heavenly worlds, called Tewalok, situated above each other, and at immense distances apart. The first is situated on the top of the first of the seven circular mountains, and the second on the top of Kow Pra Men. The others have no terrestrial foundation, but are suspended in open space.

These Chakrawans are far more innumerable than the particles of matter which compose the earth. A mighty Prom once desired to find the limits of these systems. He was so powerful that by one step he could cross a Chakrawan as swiftly as an arrow crosses the shadow of a palmyra tree at midday. He travelled from one Chakrawan to another at that rate for one thousand years, and then onward ten thousand more, and then one hundred thousand more, until he was convinced that it was impossible to find the limit, or to express their immensity in numbers.

The Budhist decalogue consists of ten commandments, viz.

I. From the meanest insect up to man, thou shalt kill no animal whatever.

II. Thou shalt not steal.

III. Thou shalt not violate the wife of another, nor his concubine.

IV. Thou shalt speak no word that is false.

V. Thou shalt not drink wine, nor anything that may intoxicate.

VI. Thou shalt avoid all anger, hatred, and bitter language.

VII. Thou shalt not indulge in idle and vain talk.

VIII. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods.

IX. Thou shalt not harbor envy, nor pride, nor malice, nor revenge, nor the desire of thy neighbor's death or misfortune.

X. Thou shalt not follow the doctrines of false gods.

All who are habitually engaged in killing animals, stealing, committing adultery, drinking ardent spirits and getting drunk, will sink to the lowest hell. There are, however, five crimes which are especially damnable, viz., murder of father or mother, murder of the highest order of priests, called Arahang, wounding Budha's foot, so as to make it bleed, (supposed to refer to the renouncing of the Budhist religion,) and persuading priests to follow false doctrines or practices. Those committing such sins go down to the very bottom of the lowest hell.

No new souls are ever made, the universe is ever stocked with intelligent beings, and has been from eternity. These are continually transmigrating from one state of being into another. All depends upon merit and demerit. Every action and thought have their consequences, either in the present or some future state of existence. Evil actions produce evil consequences, which will eventually become manifest, and cause a future birth, either in hell or in some inferior animal. Hence, in speaking of the future, the Siamese always say "tam boon tam kam," according to merit or demerit. An amount of demerit may be cancelled by a corresponding amount of merit. We have had cooks in our employ who have been obliged to kill animals such as chickens, &c., and who, after leaving us, have entered the priesthood to atone for their demerit.

Over four hundred millions of the human race hold the Budhist religion in some form or other. There is no people, however, who excel the Siamese in devotedness and fidelity, and can show so many gorgeous temples and monasteries. The government and the religion are so inseparably connected together, that it is impossible to see how the one can be overthrown without the other. It is a mutual union of Church and State. No one can hold any civil office whatever under the government, who has not spent at least three months in the priesthood.

Budhism was brought from Ceylon to Cambodia, and thence to Siam, and probably arrived in Siam about the fifth century of the Christian era. The Siamese know of no other religion having existed amongst them.

They make merit in Siam in different ways. One prolific source is the building of temples or monasteries. These temples oftentimes cover acres of ground, and besides the regular temple or shrine of the idols, have houses or dormitories for the monks, and other outbuildings. The temples are gaudy, but not magnificent, grand, or massive. They are all accompanied with spires or pagodas, which frequently reach a great height. The temple building proper is filled with idols which are hideous in their appearance. Some are sitting, some standing, and some are in a reclining posture. There is one temple at the old city of Audia, said to have twenty thousand idols in it, and the estimate cannot be far in excess of the real number. There is one reclining idol in Bangkok, about one hundred and seventy-five feet long, eighteen feet across the breast; and the feet of the idol are six feet long. It is made of brick and mortar, heavily overlaid with gold, and cost probably about $3,000. When the King wishes to make merit, he builds a temple costing perhaps $100,000. When any of the chief princes or nobles wish to make merit they do the same. The temples built by the princes and nobles are all given to the King, and then formally dedicated. These are called "Wat HLuang," or royal temples, from the fact that the kings visit them once a year, and distribute presents to the priests. The common people also join together, and build temples, which are called "Wat Ratsadon," or the people's temples. They are the same as the others, only not so grand, and the kings do not visit them. There are in the city of Bangkok alone about one hundred and twenty temples.

Another prolific source of merit is by entering the priesthood. It is the highest ambition of every mother to have all her sons take holy orders in the priesthood, at some time or other during life, but generally in the prime of it, as they thus not only make merit for themselves, but also for the parents. It consequently becomes an ambition to have as many sons as possible. The advent of a son is hailed with delight, whilst that of a daughter is rather an occasion of lamentation. The first question asked on the advent of a little stranger is, "pen pu chai rú pu ying?" is it a boy or a girl? When our first child was born, and our Siamese friends came to see the little white stranger, finding it to be a girl, the only congratulations they offered were, "tempte Maú tempte," too bad, Doctor, too bad. The shortest time any one can remain in the priesthood is three months, and as much longer as they choose. I have met men who had been in the priesthood over forty years. I have met them also who had been in it a number of times. It is no uncommon thing for a man to leave his wife and family for a short time, and enter the priesthood.

The ceremony is very simple, consisting of asking the candidate a few questions as to his motives, shaving his head, and bathing him copiously with holy water, and clothing him with yellow robes. They have also the order of nains, or novices, consisting of those too young to take full orders. The clothing of the priests consists of a yellow robe resembling somewhat the old Roman toga, with a scarf of the same material, or something richer, thrown over the shoulders. But as Budha was clothed in rags, they must imitate to some extent his example, they therefore take the new yellow cloth, tear it in pieces, and then sew it together again. This is done by the women, and is also a source of merit.

The priests go out early in the morning for their daily food. At every house is stationed some member of the family, with a basin of boiled rice, and a large brass spoon in it. When a priest comes along he uncovers his vessel, and receives a spoonful of rice, and then passes on to the next house. Some also give fish, fruit, and other things to eat with the rice. When sufficient rice is collected for the day, they return to the temples and take the morning meal. The next meal is eaten just before noon, and nothing more until the next morning. It is considered very sinful for a priest to eat after noon. The people also frequently meet together at the different temples, and make feasts for the priests, and give presents to them.

There are in Bangkok alone over ten thousand priests, and all that vast army can be seen starting out early every morning in search of their daily food.

It must cost Siam annually nearly $25,000,000 to keep up the priesthood alone, and supposing the population to be eight millions, which is perhaps an over-estimate, it will make on an average of over three dollars for every man, woman and child in the kingdom. Now, if every man, woman and child in the evangelical Christian Church would average three dollars per annum, there would not be so many starving ministers, and the Boards of the Church would not be compelled so frequently to go a begging. The world too, at that rate, would soon be evangelized. If the heathen can do so much for a false religion, what should Christians not be willing to do for the holy religion of Jesus, to which they owe everything they have, and are, and hope to be?

Any violation of the laws of chastity whilst in the priesthood is most severely punished. The culprit is publicly whipped with a ratan. He is then paraded for three days around the city with a crier going before, proclaiming his crime, and is then condemned to cut grass for the king's elephants for life, and his posterity after him, to the most remote generation. The other offending party is condemned to turn the king's rice-mill for life, and her posterity after her to the most remote generation. In consequence of the severe punishment, slips of that kind whilst in the priesthood, in proportion to the numbers, are much less frequent than among the Christian ministry. Sodomy, however, and other unmentionable crimes, are fearfully prevalent.

The priests are the only persons in the kingdom who are not obliged to crouch before the king. The king himself crouches before the high-priest. When any one meets a priest, he places the palms of his hands together and raises them to his forehead in reverence.

The duty of the priests is to take care of the religion, recite prayers at funerals, weddings, &c., and preach when called upon to do so. The people frequently invite the priests to their houses to have preaching. The sermons consist chiefly of exhortations to make merit, and are generally in such lofty words and terms, taken from the Pali, that the common people do not understand them.

The Siamese also make pilgrimages to Prabat and other sacred places. Prabat is a beautiful little volcanic mountain about eighty miles north of Bangkok. The rocks appear to have been thrown up in a plastic state, and in cooling down left innumerable little holes or crevices in the solid rock. One of these, about six feet long, is imagined to be the impress of Budha's foot. They have accordingly bricked it up, and have overlaid the wall with gold leaf. They have also erected over it a beautiful little temple, whose floor is covered with silver cloth, and whose walls are heavily covered with gold. Vast multitudes flock thither during the months of January and February of every year, to make their offerings at that sacred shrine. The principal offering is gold leaf, which they paste on the inside of the footprint. There are at least $5000 expended there annually in gold leaf alone. The little caves also, with which the mountain abounds, are filled with idols, and every prominent point is capped with a pagoda. At the foot of the mountain is rather a hideous idol, at which all pilgrims dismount from their elephants, and make an offering before ascending to the more holy place. The offering consists chiefly of a twig from a tree, or a few flowers. The tradition is, that whoever refuses to make this offering will die before leaving the place. They were very much surprised that we refused at least to dismount. They told us that Sir Robert Schomburgk, the English Consul, who had visited there the previous year, had also refused to dismount, and that he himself had not died, but a favorite dog he had with him on the elephant had died before he left the mountain. Sir Robert however, had a different theory in regard to his dog, and blamed some one for administering to him a dose of poison. Many of the most intelligent princes and nobles have no faith in Prabat, but still assist in keeping up the delusion.

There is also a short distance north of Prabat a very lofty rock called Pra Chei, or sacred glory, where Budha is said to have once taken shelter from a shower of rain, and departing, left his shadow. Multitudes also flock thither to worship. We arrived there about ten o'clock at night, and upon ascending a long flight of steps, found numbers bowed before the rock and pasting gold leaf upon it. When we told them that we could see no shadow, they attributed it to a want of faith.

The Siamese are also very much tormented with the fear of spirits, both good and evil, and use every means to propitiate them. Witchcraft is also very much feared. Wizards and witches are believed to have power to put into the stomach of any one a piece of buffalo meat, or other substance. A very disgusting circumstance of this kind occurred near our premises. The father of a certain family took sick and died. The family believed some foul play had been exercised in his case, and when they came to burn the body, a small portion, perhaps the heart, did not consume as rapidly as the rest. This was taken at once to be the buffalo meat, and was taken home and eaten by the family. The whole family ate of it, except one little girl who was absent in the family of a missionary. The belief is that if they eat of it, they can never be affected the same way.