While rarely Chang, once roused, forgave

But watched his moment to retaliate, No nature, like the still and grave,

To form–preserve-collect—and rally hate! Again—Chang's temper was devout,

So long he prayed—I wish you'd seen itBut Ching, gay wretch ! seem'd half without

A single sound religious tenet ;
Nay, plainest truths, he called too mystical,
And laughed at Chang as methodistical.
However, Custom softens down

The small asperities that gall us,
And Interest, to ourselves unknown,

Will still unto herself enthrall us ;
Thus Chang, and Ching, who early saw
'Twas vain two hostile ways to draw,
Did from their differing minds distill
The spirit of a common will ;
And by a compact of compliance,
They bade their very fate defiance :
Just like one flesh where'er they went or
Dove-tail'd like man, and horse in Centaur;
Or like Sir Thomas Brown and wife, *
Who were so suited to the life,

So closely knit--so free from schism,
It seemed like “ Natural Magnetism." -
And yet that good—that great Sir Thomas,

Did marriage once so much displease,
He wish'd to take it wholly from us,

And let us-stock the world—“ like trees.» *

Yet spite of yielding thus mechanically,
To aught their forms enjoined tyrannically,
Their minds, (tho' deeming that existence
Itself was linked with non-resistance,
Would 'gainst the yoke sometimes be straining,
And chafe—altho’ without complaining.

In truth, if differences of temper
The bliss of common twins scarce double ; some

To Chang and Ching, conjuncti semper,
Must needs be singularly troublesome.
For, when grave Chang in pensive mood,

Himself without the door was sunning,
Gay Ching some paltry insect viewed,

And whisk'd his brother into running; And when with some congenial gang

Gay Ching was playing on the roadPious humour seized on Chang,

а

'Twas droll to note Chang's doleful eyes,
In sad pursuit of butterflies;
And see of mirth that cynic scorner,
Whirl'd like a dry leaf round the corner !
Nor less to mark poor Ching, screw'd firm on
His seat, bemoraled with a sermon,
Or nail'd for hours to hear debate your
Siamese seers on Human Nature."

Our brothers now were in their teens,
When lo! a stranger on our scenes;
Hodges, the member of a mission,
To probe the Siam trade's condition,
In part a saint, in part a patriot,

He thought in guilt, and grief, as Patmos * ere 66 Rome was not Rome,” did every state riot,

Except in happy England's atmosphere.
There all was virtue, freedom, bravery
Without, all ignorance, crime, and slavery.
Perhaps he thought with old Fitzstephen, t
Our air possest some heavenly leaven,
And that a moral manna falls
From those sweet fogs that cap St. Paul's.
* Whither the Romans were accustomed to banish their criminals,

His tour to Siam, from Oporto,
Is publish'd in three volumes quarto;
From these you'll learn, if you will buy ’em,
Some facts peculiar quite to Siam.
He says (no wonder he was smitten
With things so opposite in Britain)
That Bancok's polished aristocracy
Have no great love for the democracy ;
Are sometimes proud, and overbearing,
Nor vastly for one's feelings caring.
Strange is this fact—nor less to find,

That through the Siamese dominion
Religion in effect's confined

Almost entirely to opinion; +

*

And rarely-save by paltry fractions
Varies the total of their actions.
Unlike us—who, what e'er you say for it,
Are really good because we pay for it!
Ne'er left by Virtue in the lurch.
But bolstered up by mother Church,
And cured of evils (in which writhes
Poor Siam)-by a dose of tithes.
He also saw the poor were poor,
That pockets were not quite secure;*-
The court, in nought beside sagacious,
Was far too knowing—when rapacious;
Both sexes too did oft incline

awry
To penchants for display, and finery; †