Trĕnggânu love religious and learned discussions of all kinds, and most of them:
When young, do eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint and hear great argument
About it and about,though, like poor Omar, they never seem to arrive at any conclusions which have
not previously been used by them as a starting-point. All this makes for
fanaticism,—which, however, with so cowardly a people, is more likely to be
noisy than violent,—and all such sinful sports as cock-fighting, bull fights,
gambling, and the like, are forbidden by law to the people of Trĕnggânu. In spite
of all this, however, the natives of this State do not really lead lives in any
degree more clean than is customary among other Malays. Their morals are, for
the most part, those of the streets of London after eleven o'clock on a Saturday
night.
It is as an artisan, however, that the Trĕnggânu Malay really excels. The best
products of their looms, the brass and nickel utensils, some of the weapons, and
most of the woodwork fashioned in Trĕnggânu, are the best native made wares,
of their kind, in the Peninsula, and the extreme ingenuity with which they imitate
the products of other States, or Islands of the Archipelago, is quite unrivalled in
this part of the world. Silk sârongs, in close imitation of those woven in Pahang
and Kĕlantan, are made cheap, and sold as the genuine articles. Bales of the
white turban cloths, flecked with gold thread, which are so much worn by men
who have returned from the Haj, are annually exported to Mecca, where they are
sold, as articles of real Arabic manufacture, to the confiding pilgrims. All these
silks and cloths fade and wear out with inconceivable rapidity, but, until this
occurs, the purchaser is but rarely able to detect the fraud of which he has been a
victim. Weapons, too, are made in exact imitation of those produced by the
natives of Celebes or Java, and it is often not until the silver watering on the
blades begins to crack and peel—like paint on a plank near a furnace—that their
real origin becomes known. At the present time, the artisans of Trĕnggânu are
largely engaged in making exact imitations of the local currency, to the
exceeding dolor of the Sultân, and with no small profit to themselves.
In appearance, the Trĕnggânu Malay is somewhat larger boned, broader
featured, and more clumsily put together than is the typical Pahang Malay. He
also dresses somewhat differently, and it is easy to detect the nationality of a
Trĕnggânu man, even before he opens his mouth in speech. The difference in