always to change a broad sounding towel into a
more slender one. Maricho, pepper, becomes by
this rule mariyos ; priyayi, a chief, priyantan ; ka-
yu, wood, becomes kajang; Jowo, Java, becomes
Jawi; kulon, the west, becomes kilen; and lor, the
north, becomes ler.
Even the names of places are, in the most provoking
and puzzling manner, subjected to the same
changes. Often these are entire synonyms, and still
more frequently literal translations of the compounded
words, of which the names of places so often consist.
In writing to a superior, for example, it
would be thought ill bred to use the usual words
Cheribon, Garsik, or Solo, for the names of these
towns. The inferior would call them respectively
Grage, Tandas, and Surakarta ; and were he to
write Bauyumas, or the country of the golden water,
the name of a beautiful province of the island,
he would call it Toyojanne, which means just the
same thing; while a still higher stretch of complaisance
might induce him to give it the Sanskrit
.name of Tirto-kanchono.
There are no bounds to thq little ingenuity of
flattery and adulation on this subject. Even the
peasant exercises himself in it, but his efforts are
often unsuccessful; and I have sometimes seen a
smile excited in the chiefs, by the awkward flattery
of their dependents. Some words are so
stubborn as not to yield to the rules of this political
grammar, and the result is an awkward combination
of letters. On such occasions, the native
princes will condescend to issue a dispensation in
their behalf; for such subjects are, with them,
matters of interest and moment.
Sounds,-in the Javanese language, have often
an analogy to the sense, as in other languages.
It is not enough, indeed, that this analogy is preserved
; the language often aims at stating the
degree of it, by the use, according to circumstances,
of the broader or weaker vowels, or by adopting
liquids in some cases, and harsh consonants in
others. The Javanese writers delight in an assemblage
of such words, when they attempt subjects
of awe or terror ; and, no doubt, they must
have a powerful effect on the ear of a native.
The Javanese language, in common with every
other language of the Indian Isles, does not a-
bound in figurative modes of expression; such as
have, by some, been imagined to be characteristic
of the language of all barbarians, and especially
of those of the East. Nothing, indeed, can be
more adverse to the genius of the Javanese than a
figurative and hyperbolical style We see, indeed,
v a good deal of this in the poetry borrowed from
the Hindus of Western India; but the observation
now made strictly applies to writings purely
Javanese, to their epistolary correspondence, and