as they are in their own land, in Java they are humble and
submissive, and seek their ends by craft and cunning. Laborious and
clever, they would be of great benefit to their adopted country, but for
their greediness and want of principle. In that oppressive and relaxing
climate, the European workman has no chance with them, and moreover they
accomplish the same results with half the number of tools. On the other
hand, they are sensual and debauched, and desperate gamblers. Their
favourite game is Topho, a bastard Rouge et Noir, at which they swindle
the simple Javans in the most unscrupulous and barefaced manner.

The unhealthiness of Batavia, arising from stagnant canals, bad
drinking-water, and adjacent swamps, has often been erroneously
considered to extend to the entire island. The whole has been condemned
for the fault of a fraction. Intermittent and remittent fevers, and
dysentery, are the diseases most common, but they are generally confined
to small districts. "Java," says Mr. Currie, surgeon of the 78th
Regiment, which was quartered in Batavia during the whole period of the
British occupation, from 1811 to 1815, "need no longer be held up as the
grave of Europeans, for, except in the immediate neighbourhood of
salt-marshes and forests, as in the city of Batavia, and two or three
other places on the north coast, it may be safely affirmed that no
tropical climate is superior to it in salubrity." The author of a
hastily written and desultory volume of oriental travel,[19] founded,
however, on personal experience, goes much further than this, and
maintains, that "with common prudence, eschewing _in toto_ the vile
habit of drinking gin and water whenever one feels thirsty, living
generously but carefully, avoiding the sun's rays by always using a
close or hooded carriage, and taking common precautions against wet feet
and damp clothing, a man may live, and enjoy life too, in Batavia, as
long as he would in any other part of the world." Mr. Davidson here
refers not to the city of Batavia--which he admits to be a fatal
residence, especially in the rainy season--but to the suburbs where he
resided some years. These, however, only come in the second class, as
regards salubrity, and are much too near the swamps, forests, and slimy
sea-shore, to be a desirable abode, except for those whom business,
compels to live within a drive of the city. Waitz, the Dutch writer, in
his _Levensregeln voor Oost Indie_, divides the Europ