The Budeng of Java (Semnopithecus Maurus) abounds in the forests of that island, and flies from the presence of man, uttering the most fearful screams, and using the most violent gestures; but this is not a frequent antipathy, and there is an amusing account of the familiarity which monkeys assume with men, written by a traveller, who, probably, was not a naturalist, for he does not give the technical appellation of any of the species with which he meets in India. From what he says, however, I should suppose some of his heroes to be the same as the Macacus Rhesus. He expresses his surprise, when he sees monkeys "at home," for the first time, as being so different to the individuals on the tops of organs, or in the menageries of Europe. Their air of self-possession, comprehension, and right to the soil on which they live is most amusing. From thirty to forty seated themselves to look at his advancing palanquin and bearers, just as villagers watch the strange arrival going to "the squire's," and mingled with the inhabitants, jostling the naked children, and stretching themselves at full length close to the seated human groups, with the most perfect freedom. This freedom often amounts to impudence; and they frequent the tops of bazaars, in order to steal all they can lay their hands upon below. The only way to keep them off, is to cover the roof with a prickly shrub, the thorns of which stick to the flesh like fishhooks. The above mentioned traveller watched one, which he calls a _bandar_, and which took his station opposite to a sweetmeat shop. He pretended to be asleep, but every now and then softly raised his head to look at the tempting piles and the owner of them, who sat smoking his pipe without symptoms even of a dose. In half an hour the monkey got up, as if he were just awake, yawned, stretched himself, and took another position a few yards off, where he pretended to play with his tail, occasionally looking over his shoulder at the coveted delicacies. At length the shop-man gave signs of activity, and the bandar was on the alert; the man went to his back room, the bandar cleared the street at one bound, and in an instant stuffed his pouches full of the delicious morsels. He had, however, overlooked some hornets, which were regaling themselves at the same time. They resented his disturbance, and the tormented bandar, in his hurry to escape, came upon a thorn-covered roof, where he lay, stung, torn, and bleeding. He spurted the stolen bon-bons from his pouches, and barking hoarsely, looked the picture of misery. The noise of the tiles which he had dislodged in his retreat brought out the inhabitants, and among them the vendor of sweets, with his turban unwound, and streaming two yards behind him. All joined in laughing at the wretched monkey; but their religious reverence for him induced them to go to his assistance; they picked out his thorns, and he limped away to the woods quite crestfallen.