They are monogamists, and believe that nothing can justify marriage but
love on both sides. The rite is very simple, and consists in the elected
pair sipping from the same dish of sacred water. It is called "drinking
of the cup."

Most of them die gradually of old age, and they do not seem to share our
fear and horror of death, but to regard it with a sad and pleasing
melancholy. The body is reduced to ashes on a pyre of fragrant wood, and
the songs they sing around it only breathe a tender regret for their
loss, mingled with a joyful hope of meeting again. They neither preserve
the dust as a memento, nor wear any kind of mourning; but they cherish
the memory of the absent in their hearts.

They believe that labour like virtue is a necessity, and its own reward;
but it is moderate labour of the right sort, which is a blessing and not
a curse. They all seem happy at their work, which is often cheered by
music, songs, or tales. Everyone enjoys his task, and tries to attain
the perfection of skill and grace. Those who excel are honoured, and
sometimes commemorated with statues.

They seem artists in all, and above all. They hold that every beautiful
thing has a use, and they never make a useful thing without beauty.
Apart from portraits, their pictures and statuary are mostly historical,
or else ideal representations. Many of these are typical of life; for
example, a boy at play, a pair of lovers, a mother weaning her child,
and the parting of friends. The ideal of art is to them not merely a
show to please the eye for a while, but a model to be realised in their
own lives; and I daresay it has helped to make them such a fine people.
They are clever architects and gardeners. Indeed, the whole country may
be described as a vast ornamental garden. In the middle zone, which