peculiar songs. One man leads off by singing the first line, and then all the rest sing it after him in chorus; and so on for every line of the song. Sometimes they extemporise in a very amusing manner. Not a few of these songs, I am sorry to say, contain passages hardly consistent with good taste and propriety. Here, however, is an example of one of the better sort, and the tune they sing it to:

Pan-du-bhú-mi-ta - ni-lo-ru Wan-du-tá-num-pa-ran-nan-gu

Man-di-na-dak-kun-nan -é-ram Kan-da-wa-num-o-ru-push-pam. A free translation of part of the song follows:

Once upon this earth of ours

A bee flew out at evening hour;

And as he hasted here and there,

It chanced he spied a beauteous flower.

The flower it was a moon-faced lotus;
Glad he was to enter in ;

Waiting not he sipped the honey;

He cared not for the world a pin.

He knew not that the sun was setting,
While he sucked the nectar pure ;
And if we know not what is doing,
We shall find misfortune sure.

Then that fair flower too closed its petals,
And the bee was roused at last-

Alas! But soon the hours will hasten,

Soon the night that's come be past.

A Native Party.

Soon will the day again be dawning,
The sun will flood the eastern sky,
And this fair flower that's now my prison
O'er the tank will open lie.

An elephant, while thus he mused,
The tempting lotus chanced to see;

With hungry maw he cropped and ate,

And crunched the too presumptuous bee.

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Of course it ends at length with a moral, that we must not presume on the future, but always take time by the forelock.

Many of their tunes are in the minor key. Here is one.

!

The Tiruwilla mission is now without a resident missionary, so that our living there was very primitive. It was almost like picnicing. The deserted mission bungalow is a witness to the changing and uncertain nature of everything European in India. Mr. Hawksworth commenced this mission in 1847, built his bungalow, and had half built a large church near, when his health compelled him to return for a time to England. On his coming out to India again, he was requested to build and take charge of a new institution at Cottayam for the express training of mission agents, chiefly through the medium of the vernacular. He was also put in charge of the Cottayam mission; but as no Euro

pean had been appointed to Tiruwilla, he had charge of that mission also. He was now come to visit his old flock; and extremely interesting were the few days we spent there. In the evening after our arrival, we had a large company of natives in the bungalow, the hearts of all of whom Mr. Hawksworth had evidently won by his great amiability and tact. Nor were they all members of the mission congregation; several Brahmins and others were among them. They all stayed for some time, while we showed them, among other things, a magic lantern, the slides being chiefly scenes in the Holy Land: some of them were astronomical ones. Many were the questions asked as to eclipses, the tides, the seasons, and so forth; all of which gave an opportunity for many a word in season. The next evening I endeavoured to amuse the people who came to the bungalow with an electrifying machine, which at Mr. Hawksworth's request I had taken with me from the college. Numbers afterwards came to see it, hearing the report, which spread rapidly, that the Sahibs could bring lightning from the heavens by turning a handle and a plate of glass. Yendê ammê!'-literally 'My mother!it stings!' exclaimed a rather loquacious Brahmin, as he took a spark on his knuckle; and when I gave him a pretty sharp shock, in company with some others, his eyes almost started out of his head, and the

The Pagoda.-Hindu Music.

189

perspiration stood on his forehead, as with a prolonged "Yo-ho-o-o!' he gave vent to his astonishment, and declared that he did not want any more of the lightning.'

One morning we went to call on a petty Rajah who lives near. We passed the pagoda on our way, one of the largest in this part of India. It was the first time I had seen it; and I sketched it, while Mr. Hawksworth spoke to some of the people who were about.

As we stood there the mid-day procession of the idol round the inner precincts of the temple took place. We could not of course see anything of it, as the whole place is surrounded by a high wall, but we heard the accompanying music. The chief instrument is the hautboy I have mentioned before. This is accompanied by a number of horns, some of great length, all of which sound the tonic, sometimes in concert with the dominant, the only attempt at harmony I have ever heard in Hindu music. The effect is not unlike the drone of the bagpipe. Indeed the whole character of the Hindu music decidedly reminds one of the national music of Scotland. For domestic music a flageolet is much used, and is generally accompanied also by a drone. One in my possession is of a most ingenious and beautiful, though in some respects perhaps rude, construction: it is formed of bamboo, and is on the exact principle of a reed pipe in an organ. The reed is cut neatly at the end of a calamus, one end of which

is stopped with wax, and the other inserted in a larger pipe of bamboo about nine inches long and half an inch in diameter, pierced with six holes like a flute; the reed end is then inserted in a still larger pipe of bamboo fourteen or sixteen inches long, and so arranged that the holes of the smaller pipe are exposed, that by them the tone may be modulated. The appearance of the instrument when completed is this

The tune, râjum as they call it, is handed down from generation to generation. They have no method of writing music, so that each musician learns from his betters by ear. It is impossible to tell how far the râjums may become changed in course of time: but no doubt many of them might claim a very high antiquity. An accomplished Brahmin musician once favoured me with a visit, and sang a portion of the 'Râmâyana' to me. The râjum that he used, as nearly as I can write it, is as follows the first semibreve being the reciting note, as" in an English chant: