Narrative of the Circumnavigation of the Globe by the Austrian Frigate Novara, Volume I / (Commodore B. Von Wullerstorf-Urbair,) Undertaken by Order of the Imperial Government in the Years 1857, 1858, & 1859, Under the Immediate Auspices of His I. and R. Highness the Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian, Commander-In-Chief of the / Austrian Navy.

by Ritter von Karl Scherzer

VIII.

Ceylon.

Stay from 8th to 16th Jan., 1858.

Neglect of the Island hitherto by the English Government.—Better Prospects for the Future.—The Cingalese, their Language and Customs.—Buddhism and its Ordinances.—Visit to a Buddhist Temple in the Vicinity of Galle.—The sacred Bo-tree.—Other Aborigines of Ceylon.—The Weddàhs.—Traditions as to their Origin.—Galle as a City and Harbour.—Snake-charmers.—Departure for Colombo.—Cultivation of the Cocoa-nut Palm, a benevolent, Buddha-pleasing work.—Polyandria; or, Community of Husbands.—Supposed Origin.—Annual Exportation of Cocoa-nuts.—Rest-houses for Travellers.—Curry, the National Dish.—A Misfortune and its Consequences.—The Catholic Mission of St. Sebastian de Makun, and Father Miliani.—Annoying Delays with restive Horses.—Colombo.—A Stroll through the "Pettah" or Black Town.—Ice Trade of the Americans with Tropical Countries.—Cinnamon Gardens and Cinnamon Cultivation.—Consequences of the Monopoly of Cinnamon.—Rise and Expansion of the Coffee Culture in Ceylon.—Pearl-fishery.—Latest Examination of the Ceylon Banks of Pearl Oysters, by Dr. Kelaart, and its Results.—Aripo at the Season of Pearl-fishing.—The Divers.—Pearl-lime, a Chewing Substance of wealthy Malays;—Annual Profit of the Pearl-fishery.—Origin of the Pearl.—Poetry and Natural Science.—Artificial Production of the Pearl.—The Chank-shell—The Wealth of Ceylon in Precious Stones.—Visit to a Cocoa-nut Oil Manufactory.—The Cowry-shell, a Promoter of the Slave Trade.—Discovery of valuable Cingalese MSS. on Palm-leaves.—The heroic Poem of "Mahawwanso," and Turner's English Translation of it.—Hospitality of English Officials in Colombo.—A second Visit to Father Miliani.—Agreeable Reception.—The Antidote-oil against Bites of Poisonous Snakes.—Adventures on the Journey back to Galle.—Ascent of Adam's Peak by two Members of the Expedition.—The sacred Footprint.—Descent.—The "Bullock-bandy," or Native Waggon.—Departure from Galle for Madras.—The Bassos (shallows).—A Berlin Rope-dancer among the Passengers.—Nyctalopia; or, Night Blindness.—Fire on board.—Arrival in Madras Roads.

The inquirer who becomes acquainted by personal examination with the important geographical position of the Island of Ceylon (called also Seilan or Singhala), her commodious harbours, her productiveness, and her marvellous climate, involuntarily wonders at the stepmother's part that England has hitherto played with respect to this renowned island of palms and spices, the Malta of the Indian Ocean, which of all the British possessions in distant parts of the earth, has, till recently, received the least care or attention.

It must be borne in mind, however, that Ceylon is an appanage of the British Crown, and it is not an independent, self-supporting colony. Those shortcomings of administration, for which the mother country is exclusively responsible, have been hitherto a complete drag upon her development. But the English people have this advantage over all other nations, that once anything has been recognized to be useful and imperatively required, they proceed to apply it with such energy, that they are enabled to make up for any neglect with giant strides. During late years many fetters have been knocked off which formerly impeded the more active development of agriculture and commerce. The harbour of Point de Galle (also called only Galle for shortness) has become a central station for the steam-boat trade with the East Indies, the Burmese Archipelago, China, and Australia. A telegraphic wire will ere long stretch from Ceylon to England, such as even now unites the island with the Coromandel Coast and India; a railway is in course of construction between the most important commercial centres of the island, and so obvious are the fundamental benefits it must confer, that ere long the classical and incomparably beautiful island of Ceylon is destined to shine a star of the first magnitude in the azure of the Indian Ocean, one of the most prosperous, wealthy, and blest of islands!

The scientific researches of all kinds, which have in modern days been instituted in Ceylon, have been attended with the most important results, bearing upon its history and its various tribes, as well as on its natural wealth; and the masterly and marvellous work Sir Emerson Tennent lately published on the isle of Ceylon, seems intended to compensate for many instances of neglect which Ceylon and its inhabitants have experienced from the English since they seized on it.

Embracing all the three kingdoms of nature, and following up with learned accuracy the history of the inhabitants, from the obscure traditions attending their earliest settlement down to the present day, Sir Emerson Tennent's work is a perfect pattern of a monography, although upon this subject the German inquirer will involuntarily, and not without an emotion of pride, recall to mind Carl Ritter's admirable, well-digested publication upon Ceylon, in his classical work on Eastern Asia, doubly meritorious by the very fact that the German scholar never set foot in the country itself. There are, however, indeed few spots on earth which present such inexhaustible subjects for the study of the historian as well as the inquirer into physical science, of the poet and the political economist, as this romantically-beautiful island, which we have been taught to regard as the Garden of the World, as indeed the special site of the Garden of Eden, the first abode of the progenitors of the human race.

We have not to do here, as in most of the islands of southern seas, with a savage people, that have only, since the first appearance of Europeans, emerged from a state of barbarism, and been raised one step towards civilization, but rather find, as in the East Indies and China, a peculiar type of civilization, which, although widely differing from that of Europe, yet seems not less valuable and extraordinary. The whites (scarce 7000 in number, of whom 2482 are females), who live scattered over an area of 24,700 English square miles, have hitherto been too few in number to exercise any marked influence on the customs or mode of life of a native coloured population of 1,726,640 souls, and hence it is that Ceylon exhibits a more romantic and characteristic air than any other British settlement in distant parts of the globe.

A people like the Cingalese, of such ardent imaginativeness, with a splendid history, and a religion professed in the various realms of the East by more than 300 millions of people, gains in interest the more we become acquainted with them, and the more we make their traditions, their mode of life, and their customs, the object of special inquiry.

The Cingalese, or indigenous natives (so named to distinguish them from the other inhabitants of the island, belonging to other stocks and amalgamated races, who at various periods had settled here, and who call themselves Ceylonese), were entirely the offspring of Hindoo emigrants, who, about five centuries before the birth of Christ, came from Hindostan to Ceylon, and imported their own mode of government, and system of caste, as also their arts, language, and religion, from the continent into the island.

They constitute the germ of the present population, and early divided themselves into four leading castes:—1st, that of the royal family;—2nd, the Brahmins;—3rd, the merchants, peasants, and shepherds;—and 4th, the sixty inferior common castes. At present there exist in Ceylon only the two latter. The most numerous is that of the peasants, who, however, meddle but little with the cultivation of the soil, but have arrogated to themselves the exclusive and hereditary possession of all employments, lay or ecclesiastical. The dress of the Cingalese usually consists of a cloth wound turban-fashion round their head, and long white drapery. On festive occasions they wear richly-adorned tight-fitting jackets of velvet or wool, and on such occasions rank and power assert themselves by the number of garments, to such an extent that frequently a wealthy man makes his appearance in several of these habiliments, worn one above the other. The Cingalese are shorter in stature than the Europeans, their average stature being 5 feet 4 inches to 5 feet 5 inches, English. Their physique, though graceful and delicate, is powerful and muscular, with a brawny breast, broad shoulders, the muscles of the thigh strongly developed, but with disproportionately small hands and feet. Their colour is commonly a light-brown, their hair black and quite straight. The women are beautifully formed, but even when they can, like Asokamalla of historic fame, boast all the forty and six marks of the Cingalese ideal,[77] they must fall far short of the European standard of female beauty, with their bodies anointed with oil, and their mouths stained with the betel-nut. As the Cingalese girls usually marry so early as 12 years of age, they speedily lose the bloom of youth, and frequently have the appearance of crones at 20. Another especially loathsome habit of the Cingalese is the chewing the betel-nut, a custom so universally prevalent among all Indian races, that not merely the men and women, but the very children exhibit an extraordinary predilection for it. The ingredients of this masticatory consist of the green tender leaves of the Betel-pepper-shrub (Piper betle), the nut of the areca-palm (Areca catechu, or cabbage-tree), some lime made of calcined shells, and tobacco, which, according to the rank of the individual, they keep ready prepared by their side, in silver or brass boxes, resembling snuff-boxes. These corrosive substances at the same time stain the saliva so deep a red, that, after long use, the lips and teeth seem as though smeared with blood.

[77] Of these forty-six perfections of womanly beauty we extract the following by way of example, from a Cingalese author:—hair, glossy as the tail of a peacock, and hanging in ringlets to the knee, eye-brows like the rainbow, eyes like sapphire, and the leaves of the manilla flower, a hawk nose, lips lustrous and red as coral, teeth small and regular, like the buds of the jasmine, neck thick and round, haunches broad, breast firm, and conical like the cocoa-nut, the figure slight, capable of being spanned by the hand, the limbs spindle-shaped, the sole of the foot without any hollow, the skin free from any prominence of the bones, sweeping in rounded curves, soft and tender.

The language is an offshoot of the Sanscrit, copious, harmonious, and full of expression, with threefold grammar, and as many vocabularies, viz. for the royal tongue, the official or court tongue, and that of society at large. To these there must be added the Pali, the learned, but obsolete written language of the priestly caste, which the Cingalese have in common with the kingdoms of Siam and Ava, in the further Indies. In this language, itself but a dialect of the Sanscrit, all their sacred books, traditions, and poetry are written. In many parts of the island the knowledge of language and written lore are held in such high honour, that grammar and literature form the entire study of the inhabitants. Reading and writing are as common among the Cingalese as in England, except that in Ceylon the women take no part therein. They do not write as we do, with quill or steel pen upon paper, but engrave the characters with a fine-pointed iron graver, or stylus, upon the leaves of the Talipot palm-tree (Corypha umbraculifera), from which they slice a broad strip for the purpose about 2 feet long, and several inches broad. These require no further preparation than that they must be well smoothed beforehand, and all inequalities removed. In order to render the writing more clear and legible, the Cingalese rub it with a mixture of cocoa-nut oil and fine pulverized wood-ashes, which imparts to it durability and prevents obliteration. Great numbers, however, use the leaves of another species of palm for writing upon, viz. the Palmyra palm (Borassus flabelliformis), but those of the Talipot are preferred to all others for their closeness of texture, and are alone used in important records and other documents.

The religion of the Cingalese is Buddhism, which in Ceylon still flourishes in these times in all its pristine vigour. Buddha is not the name of the founder of this belief, who is called Gautama, or Sakja-Muni, but is only one of the numerous titles of honour invented by that personage, who in the Sanscrit figures so conspicuously as a sage. Gautama was born in the province of Maghada (now known as Reha), in Northern Hindostan, b. c. 624. His parents were Suddhodana, King of Magadha, and his consort Maja. Contemplating the degeneracy and misery of man, sunk in deepest woe, Gautama attacked the doctrine of Brahma, rejected the Vedas, or holy books, and founded the new faith, which consists of the following fundamental propositions:—The Creator and Ruler of the world is a supreme, invisible, purely spiritual (and for that reason obviously impossible to be figured) Being, almighty, wise, just, beneficent, and merciful. Man most fitly recognizes and honours the Deity by silent contemplation: by the practice of chastity, temperance, and virtue he attains to happiness. The complete fulfilment of all his duties confers on him here on earth the dignity of a Buddha, or sage, and after death consigns him to the beatific repose of non-existence[78] (Nirwana). Condemned souls are born again in the forms of wild animals. According to Gautama's teaching a fresh Buddha always appears at certain epochs, whose existence is manifested by his extraordinary spiritual powers, by his deeds, and by his prophecies, selected by destiny for the purpose of enlightening the world as to the decrees of the Supreme Being, and to restore religion to her pristine purity. The death of a Buddha is also the commencement of a new reckoning of time. Gautama, who died about b. c. 542, or some 2400 years since, was the forty-fifth and last Buddha that appeared to the Cingalese; his doctrine must continue to operate for 5000 years, when, according to the Cingalese traditions, the next Buddha, or Purifier, will appear. Gautama's belief, bequeathed by him to his disciple, the Brahmin Mahakaja, was immediately translated into Sanscrit, and speedily spread. Several hundred temples and monuments dedicated to him are scattered in various parts of the island, and remain to this day an evidence of the extent and influence of Buddhism.

[78] The ten precepts of the moral code of Buddhism are as follows:—Kill no living creature—do not steal—follow no unclean occupation—tell no lies or untruths—drink no fermented liquors—live exclusively on vegetables—anoint neither the head nor the body—go to no singing parties or spectacles—do not sleep on a raised nor on a wide bed—eat but once a day, and before noon.

BUDDHA TEMPLE NEAR GALLE.

On the day of our arrival we at once set off to visit one of these Buddhist temples, in the vicinity of Galle. The edifice is small and insignificant, only the carved woodwork of the door presenting any object of interest as a work of art. In the interior is a gigantic figure of Buddha, carved in wood, and in a reclining position; it is 20 feet long, and painted yellow and red, with long flaps to the ears, and a lotus flower on the head; while on the walls around, richly decorated with scrollwork, dragons and lions, part painted, part sculptured, various interesting episodes are represented in the history of Buddhism. Right in front of the figure are placed a number of offerings of the most miscellaneous description, beneath which are flowers and fruits; a small tin box is also particularly conspicuous, into which every stranger is expected to drop a piece of silver by way of present. Adjoining such a temple are always to be found the wiharas, or residences of the priests (hamaduruhs), and the spot where preaching and teaching are carried on. The priests wear long wide vestures, yellow or white according to their rank, or else only a single yellow outer garment, which falls in the form of graceful drapery over the naked shoulders; their heads are shaved, and they walk about quite barefoot, with a parasol of Talipot palm in their hand, and observe with strangers a reserved, distrustful demeanour.

We were conducted all round by a young priest, of about 20 years of age, who spoke a little English, which is not a very common accomplishment, since the Buddhists have a great dislike for all that is foreign. Only at the conclusion of our visit did the old, grey, half-blind superior priest make his appearance, saluted us, but immediately left us to snatch from a boy a shaddock (Citrus decumana), which is especially prized by the Cingalese on account of the refreshing qualities of its juice.

The priestly office, however, does not deter a native from indulging the disgusting habit of chewing the betel-nut, and this aged hamaduruh became much more sociable on receiving some.

Adjoining the temple, which stands in a charming cocoa-nut grove, we first got an idea of the extraordinary luxuriance of the vegetation of this island. In a single enclosure, not much larger than an ordinary house-garden, we saw coffee-trees, cinnamon-bushes, clove-trees, nutmeg-trees, (Areca catechu), oranges, lemons, pine-apples, and bread-fruit trees (Arctocarpus incisa), flourishing in wildest profusion.

A second temple, which we also visited, was the Dadále Panzela, the largest in the province, and the seat of the high-priest of the Buddhists. This worthy personage, a septuagenary, is named Nanalangara Seresumana Mahdamaradjigurù Ganatchari-Naikunangi, and is surrounded by a staff of priests of the temple who are reputed holy, and who apparently venerate him as a superior being. This temple did not differ much in construction and arrangement from the first; but the place set apart for instruction, where, at the time of our visit, some youths were busily engaged in copying the sacred books upon palm leaves, as also the residences of the priests, made a much more imposing impression, and spoke of a certain degree of opulence. In the midst of a piece of ground laid out like a garden was planted the sacred Bo-tree, which is looked upon as holy by the Buddhists, because, according to an ancient tradition, Buddha was in the habit of reposing under the shadow of its branches, as often as he visited the earth. Towering above everything wherever a Buddhist temple is raised, there a Bo-tree is planted; but the particular sacred tree, the original plant from which the legend took its rise, grows at Anaradnapura, in the northern part of the former kingdom of Kandi, whither it had been suddenly translated from a far-distant land, and spontaneously took root in the spot where it at present stands, in order to serve as a protection and shelter for Buddha.[79] Ninety Cingalese monarchs are interred around it, all of whom, by the temples and statues they erected to Buddha, are deemed worthy of this pre-eminent mark of distinction.

[79] The sacred Bo-tree (Ficus religiosa) of the Buddhists is frequently confounded with the Banyan Tree (Ficus Indica), held in such honour by the Brahmins, from which latter it differs in this, that it does not throw out from its branches numberless twigs which take root again in the earth. The incessant waving and rustling of the leaves and branches, which is common to both species of Ficus, is regarded by the faithful Buddhists as the effect of a fear-instilling scene of which the sage was once witness under the Bo-tree; just as the Syrian Christians deduce, from the fact that the Holy Cross was manufactured out of aspen-wood, that this tree is trembling, even in our days, with anguish and terror. Singular, what an important part the fig-tree seems to play in all religions, including the Christian and the Mahometan!

The grey-headed high-priest permitted the library of the temple to be shown to us, which consists of a large number of Pali manuscripts, inscribed on Talipot leaves, each of which was enclosed between two elegant boards made of calamander wood (Diopyrus hirsuta), fastened with strings, and enveloped in numerous folds of cloth, the whole guarded with singular reverence, in lofty, broad, wooden cupboards, richly carved. When we returned, the chief priest requested us to give him our names, and that of the country we came from, upon which a young priest carefully wrote down with a goose quill on a sheet of paper, in Cingalese language, apparently with the view of showing us civility, some superficial remarks respecting the Novara Expedition.

Besides the pure Cingalese, the island is also inhabited by Hindoos from the Malabar coast, Moors (the descendants of wandering Arabs and Mahometans from northern India, who at present carry on the greater part of the trade of the island), Malays, Javanese; then Portuguese, Dutch, British of the various nationalities comprised under that title; and, lastly, Negroes from Mozambique and Madagascar, who have formed alliances with the Cingalese, and are rearing a numerous mixed race.[80]

[80] What is related by various writers of the practice of "running a muck" (a custom that seems to recall the frightful blood-feuds of the Corsicans), long supposed to be peculiar to Ceylon, in which a Malay thirsting for revenge, and armed with a naked "kreese," or dagger, rushes through the streets like a madman, yelling "Amock, Amock" (kill, kill), and runs the fearful weapon through the body of the very first person he meets,—seems to be founded on a mistake. No one could give us any particulars on the subject from personal observation. Sir Emerson Tennant too, in his work on Ceylon, passes over this custom of "running a muck," without a syllable of mention. Evidently the custom is not naturalized in this island. It now prevails among the Malays of the Sunda archipelago, while in Ceylon no instance has occurred within the memory of man. That this tendency to murder is caused by the use of opium likewise appears improbable. Crawford, in his most excellent descriptive dictionary of the Indian islands, speaking of "running a muck," pretends it results frequently from a monomania taking this particular form, and originating in disorders of the digestive organs.

Deep in the interior of the island, in the province of Bintang, N.E. from Kandi, and towards Trincomalee and Batacalva, in holes in the earth, or under the palm-leaves, reside the tribe of the Weddàhs or Veddàhs, the most savage race in the island, traditionally said to be the aborigines proper, who go about naked, with the exception of a girdle round the loins, and use only bows and javelins, which however they manufacture and handle with great dexterity.

According to one of the various Cingalese traditions, these Weddàhs are the descendants of a very bloodthirsty, cannibal monarch, who, deposed by his people, was only permitted the alternative of death, or of withdrawing with the ministers of his cruelty to roam for ever amid the solitudes of the forest. The dethroned king chose the latter alternative, and thus became the little-to-be-envied progenitor of this rude savage race. At any rate it seems worthy of note, that these Weddàhs, destitute though they are of the remotest traces of civilization, are still regarded as belonging to the privileged caste.

Owing to the shortness of our stay, we unfortunately had no opportunity of visiting the interior of the island, or of seeing these Weddàhs. With difficulty did we tear ourselves from the zone of the cocoa-nut growth, and therefore only got acquainted with two places on the island, Galle and Colombo, the latter the seat of government.

INTERIOR OF A HOUSE AT GALLE.

Galle is, from its position, as also from its configuration, indisputably the best and most important harbour in the south and west of the island, as Colombo can only be regarded as an open, insecure roadstead. Founded in the sixteenth century by the Portuguese, conquered at a later period by the Dutch, and finally, at the peace of Amiens, transferred to the English, Galle displays singularly few traces of its different masters. The streets are narrow, but cleanly; the houses are for the most part constructed of earth, with verandahs, or airy colonnades towards the street, and rooms within, plastered to imitate stone, of spacious dimensions, as is desirable, considering the heat of the climate. As one enters from the roadway at once into the sitting apartment, and as the door stands wide open all day to admit a free current of air, a sort of open screen-work is usually put up before the entrance, to prevent a too minute inspection of the interior, by the prying eyes of inquisitive passers-by. At Galle we, for the first time, saw the "Punkah," a sort of fan peculiar to India, which stretches from one end of the roof of the room to the other, and being swung to and fro by a servant produces a refreshing coolness. Here, too, we first became acquainted with the "Gecko" (Hemidactylus maculatus), an elegant little house-lizard, which, with graceful agility, runs to and fro upon the walls, windows, and roofs, and speedily becomes as familiar with man as a pet-dog or kitten. They usually make their appearance towards evening, when, without the slightest symptoms of timidity, they begin their surprising evolutions, during which they catch gnats with astonishing dexterity, and although they are disagreeable objects to all new comers, one speedily becomes accustomed to these harmless, innocuous, playful little animals, of which the Ceylonese are in the habit of relating many interesting and amusing anecdotes.

Of late years, during which Galle has risen into considerable importance, as the converging point of the lines of steamers to Eastern India, China, and Australia, the number of substantial houses has greatly increased, and several large hotels are found here replete with every comfort. Like most European settlements in India, the Cape, and China, Galle possesses a fort in which, at an earlier period, the European colonists dwelt with their wives and families apart from the natives, and has also a "Pettah," or Black Town, a sort of Cingalese Ghetto, exclusively inhabited by the black population. At present this separation is not so strenuously enforced as in earlier times, but whoever would seek to form a more accurate idea of the various races of this population, its mode of life and its demeanour, must leave the so-called "Fort," and wander through the native or Cingalese quarter. Here are the fruit and vegetable markets; here all was devoted to buying and selling, which seemed to excite the otherwise listless little covetous disposition of the Cingalese; here jugglers and snake-charmers exhibit, who excite interest rather by the horrible nature and the foolhardiness of the performances, than by their executing any surprising feats. A belief is prevalent among the people that this singular class of men, greatly resembling our own gipsies, possess the art of depriving a poisonous serpent of its venom, and rendering it innocuous. And, in fact, one does see them produce from a white cloth the dreaded Cobra di Capello, 4 or 5 feet long, and exquisitely marked, irritate it violently, and go through all manner of unpleasant performances with it on their naked bodies. Frequently the serpent, weary of being constantly brought out for exhibition, endeavours to escape from its tormentor, whereupon a general scramble for escape takes place among the spectators. Every one hurries off to a safe distance, and the unfortunate charmer is left alone on the scene with his eminently intractable pupil, and has, into the bargain, given his exhibition in vain. As, however, it not unfrequently happens that the bite of the Cobra di Capello is followed by fatal consequences to the snake-charmer himself, it is highly probable that the whole mystery resolves itself into courage, and the shrewdness with which, availing themselves of the uncommon dread and aversion with which this animal is regarded, they are able at once to prevent him from making use of his deadly poison fang, and to put forth their own sleight of hand. This explanation seems also to account for the very remarkable fact that men have ventured to domesticate this dangerous reptile in more places than Ceylon. Indeed, within the experience of Major Skinner, a thoroughly trustworthy personage, who has resided for many years on the island, and to whom the naturalists of the Expedition are indebted for many acts of kindness, an instance actually occurred in the neighbourhood of Negombo, in which a wealthy man, who keeps large sums of specie in his house, bethought him of the singular precaution of having several deadly cobras to watch the treasure in lieu of dogs. Day and night they glide about, a terror to thieves, while they are quite harmless to the inmates who feed them and attend to them!

In former times snake worship (Nagas) was universal throughout Ceylon, and, as in India, the cobra received divine honours from the natives, because it was supposed to be a metamorphosed king. This serpent, however, is so singularly and wonderfully endowed by nature, its appearance and motions are so peculiar, that an imaginative people like the Cingalese may well be excused for associating the idea of metempsychosis with its aspect of mystery.

From Galle, an excellent road, following the coast-line the entire distance, leads to Colombo, the seat of government, 75 English miles distant. Every morning there starts from Galle for that destination, the "Royal Mail" coach, an uncomfortable, somewhat dangerous, mode of conveyance, in which this distance is traversed in from 8 to 10 hours. In order to travel more at our ease, we engaged an extra waggon. In Ceylon people usually employ, on long excursions, but one horse, which is changed at distances varying from 6 to 10 miles. We had some difficulty in reconciling this custom with our predilection for travelling at our leisure. The first few hours of our journey passed away very pleasantly; the road was excellent, and the country magnificent and charming. We seemed as though driving through a park inhabited by thousands of men, and planted with cocoa-nut palms—amidst which occasionally the white dome of a Buddhist temple, or the minarets of a Mahometan mosque, shooting up above the summits of the palms, imparted an aspect of life to the landscape—while in the gay bazaars that fringed the road, the few necessaries of life required by the exceedingly frugal natives were exposed for sale, temptingly arranged on palm or plantain leaves. The whole south-western coast district is so populous that the huts of the natives were continually in sight, right and left, under the forest shade, and the scenery in consequence seemed as full of life and careless enjoyment as though the people had nothing else to do but walk about under palm-trees. This impression was the more strengthened, that we rarely perceived a man with anything else in his hand than a Talipot leaf, or a Chinese parasol, to protect himself against the burning rays of the sun, which shone almost directly overhead. Of the women, on whom for the most part fall all the troubles and hardships of life among the Cingalese, we only saw a few carrying to the city heavy baskets balanced on their heads.

The luxuriant, widely-extending cocoa-nut forests, which on the south and west sides of the island stretch down to the sea-shore (whereas on the eastern coast they are altogether absent), seem independently of the necessity of paying all due care to the maintenance of one of the necessaries of life, to be specially indebted for their existence to the circumstance that additional planting of this tree, as also its careful cultivation, is one of the religious observances and duties of the servants of Buddha. Whoever plants a cocoa-nut, palm, or bread-fruit tree, performs a work agreeable to Buddha. At the birth of a son, or on any similar festive occasion, it is customary to plant a few cocoa-nut shoots in the earth. Cocoa-nut palms form a very important part of the property of a family. The father divides them as heritable property into equal portions for bequest to his children. Not one single palm but has an owner, though instances occasionally occur in which several families are supported by the produce of a single palm!

This peculiar phenomenon has been followed by most remarkable results bearing upon the social condition of the native population. Increasing poverty, and the ever present grinding necessity of preventing any further subdivision of the joint property, have impelled the natives to resort to the unnatural remedy of the brothers of a family having but one wife among them! The fact that there are in Ceylon fully one-tenth more men than women, was the cause of the rapid spread of this custom, and upheld Polyandria, or plurality of husbands, as a desirable invention for remedying the deficient supply of females. Many a female has three, four, or even seven husbands, and all children that are born of such a wedlock have equal rights, and are (differing in this respect from the law of Hindostan, by which only the children of the eldest brothers are registered, as the entire property belongs to him, while all the younger brothers serve him as vassals, and can be driven by him out of the house), the lawful, recognized heirs of the different fathers. In order to guard against the rise of law-suits respecting birth and heritage among the Cingalese, in consequence of their local customs, the British courts of justice, singular to say, find themselves constrained to recognize this disgraceful custom, and to interpret the law with reference to it. Although in the maritime provinces plurality of husbands has been signally on the decrease, owing to foreign influences, it still prevails to a great extent in the interior of the island. The submissiveness of the Cingalese to their superiors and their monarchs is assigned as the origin of this in other respects very ancient custom, which seems to have been universally in use among the various races of the mainland of India from time immemorial. Constrained to apply their own manual labour in cultivating the land of their tyrants, and frequently to accompany them on distant journeys, they thought they could, during their absence, most surely protect their own fields and crops against utter ruin, by apportioning wife and chattels among brothers and nearest relatives, and thence the family tie was gradually converted into a socialist community.

The almost endless cocoa forests, which we were traversing by splendid, broad, level roads, not alone provide the native with, to him, the most important necessary for supporting existence, but the fruit itself forms at the same time so important and valuable an article of produce, that the cultivation of the cocoa-nut has been regularly and systematically carried on by European enterprise since 1841—at present covering an area of 23,000 English acres—while the proportion of native land on which this, the most useful growth of the tropics, is cultivated, amounts to about 100,000 acres. Formerly, the nuts were shipped to foreign parts for the extraction of their oil; but for this purpose there are now on the island itself, especially in Colombo and Galle, a considerable number of manufactories, at which the oil already expressed from the nuts is usually at once put into casks for exportation. The quantity of oil thus exported annually is estimated at from 1,000,000 to 1,500,000 gallons, worth from £100,000 to £150,000. Besides this, the elastic fibre of the outer husk of the cocoa-nut is used in the manufacture of ropes, door-mats, &c., and, under the name of Coir, forms an important article of export, the annual consumption averaging between 30,000 and 40,000 quintals (centner weight), worth from £20,000 to £25,000.

The first station on leaving Galle for Colombo is Bentotte, where, as is the custom all through the country, there is a "resting-house" open to all travellers, similar to the "Choultries" in India, the "Caravanserais," or lodgings for pilgrims, in Eastern countries, or the "Pasangrahans," of Java. These resting-houses, which all through the interior of the island are found on the highways and forest roads, are among the oldest institutions of the country, and were formerly maintained at the expense of private individuals. The resting-houses, which have been erected under the English rule on the main roads of the island, are in all respects of a far higher class, and strongly resemble the waiting-rooms of our own (German) railroads. One is not merely provided in these with shelter, but also with food and drink, at a fixed tariff. A special committee (the Provincial Road Committee) is appointed to superintend the management of these resting-houses.

Here we partook of a luxurious "tiffin," as the customary meal between breakfast and dinner is called in Ceylon, as well as throughout India; and in so doing, made acquaintance for the first time with the renowned Indian dish "Curry," which consists of flesh or fish prepared with a powder compounded of spices. It tastes so hot that the European palate only gets accustomed to it by degrees; but in these countries it is looked on as the favourite dish, which must never be absent from any meal, because the cayenne pepper plentifully sprinkled over it, stimulates the stomach and promotes digestion. Hence the curry-powder is in immense request, and is largely exported. The assertion that this dish was first invented by the Portuguese is quite erroneous, as the chronicles of the country establish that it was in request in Ceylon in the second century before Christ.[81]

[81] According to Professor Wilson, "Curry" is but a corruption of the Carnatic term Májkki-Kari, a dish composed of rice, sour milk, spices, and red pepper.

As we mounted into our vehicle again, after a short halt at Bentotte, in order to resume our journey to Colombo with a fresh horse, we perceived that our driver, a negro, had been too free of his visits to the brandy-bottle, and occasionally took to rolling on the box. In the hope that he might become sober by the way, we ventured to proceed, but ere long he lost his balance, and fell to the ground, compelling us, to avoid further mishap, to retrace our steps on foot to the nearest village—thus reversing the order of matters, and, so to speak, escorting our horse, coach, and driver. This occurrence, unimportant and hardly worth mentioning in itself, was the occasion of an interesting adventure. As it was only with much difficulty that we could make ourselves intelligible to the natives, we resolved to apply to the authorities in the very first place we came to. It turned out that we were in the vicinity of the Catholic mission of St. Sebastian de Makùn, whose superior was a Benedictine from Rome. The church is situated amid the rich vegetation of the primeval forests, the gigantic trunks of whose trees, supporting a huge diadem of luxuriant foliage, are arched into a natural dome of the most graceful proportions. With curiosity whetted to the uttermost, we advanced along a beautiful path, beneath cocoa-palms, cabbage trees, bread-fruit trees, screw pines, tree-like ferns, and broad-leaved bananas, till we reached the dwelling-house of the Mission, and introduced ourselves to the missionary. Forthwith the latter, a tall, stately figure, with handsome features and cultivated manners, and dressed in a woollen robe, ushered us into a darkened chamber opposite, and received us most cordially. This worthy priest, by the name of Miliani, was not less surprised at being visited at this solitary mission by Austrian travellers, and with the most lively satisfaction and the utmost readiness to oblige, offered us all the assistance in his power. In spite of our hurry, we had to take a cup of coffee à la Romagna, with our hospitable missionary, and to promise to visit him on our return journey. Father Miliani has already lived many years in this country, and ministers to a Christian community of more than 1000 souls. Altogether there are in Ceylon about 50 Catholic missionaries under a Bishop whose residence is in Colombo. Our priestly host was greatly respected by the Cingalese, but he evidently was overjoyed at being able once more to express his thoughts and feelings in his native Italian.

It was evening ere, with many a hearty shake of the hand, we tore ourselves away from the cordial hospitality of St. Sebastian de Makùn. Horse and driver this time gave hope of faster progress. But we were doomed once more to experience a severe disappointment, and although we were only about 10 or 12 miles distant from Colombo, which was our destination, it took us five long hours to get over the ground. The night was very dark, but the road was continually illuminated with torches of palm, carried by the homeward plodding natives, which emitted a gloomy light alternating with showers of sparks.

When at last we got to Colombo about midnight, pretty well knocked-up, we comforted ourselves with the reflection that the inconveniences attending personal transport between Galle and the seat of government, can by no means be classed among events of rare occurrence; since, in consequence of the inveterate obstinacy of the native horse, one must have recourse to the most incredible expedients to get the carriage under weigh. For instance, at every station the ears of the post-horse were twisted together and then suddenly relaxed in order to set the vehicle in motion; and, when this torture failed, a pole, or thick stick, was inserted under the tail of the recalcitrant, and rubbed up and down till the poor animal, smarting under this painful operation, took to the collar. Once the carriage is started in this extraordinary fashion, the coachman swings to and fro at the peril of his life, and endeavours by continually "pitching into" the horse, to keep him at the gallop. Thus between whooping and whipping the next station is reached, where the same trial of patience awaits the traveller, and a similar martyrdom for the next horse.

Our first business the following morning was to take a walk through Colombo, which, like Galle, consists of "The Fort," or White City, and the "Pettah," or Black Quarter, in the latter of which are situated the houses and shops of the natives, and where the chief traffic and the greatest activity are combined. Here one rarely encounters a white man, for even the soldiers and police belong to the brown and black races. The natives, however, manifest, outwardly at least, a great respect for the whites, and everywhere draw aside reverentially when one makes his appearance.

In the middle of the main street are some Buddhist temples. We were not, however, permitted to enter, unless we consented to take off our shoes. At several of the natives' houses the entrance porch and windows were gaily adorned with plantain leaves. On inquiring of our Cingalese attendant what was the occasion of this manifestation, he replied in broken English that the inmates were celebrating "Christmas," wishing probably to express that the natives celebrated a feast analogous to our Christmas.

The filth and unsavoury odours which prevail in the Black Quarter, and the noise and yelling of the natives, speedily drive visitors back to the European portion of the city, which altogether, with its gloomy, decayed aspect, makes anything but a favourable impression. The public buildings, the houses of the mercantile community, the warehouses, and fortifications, all bear the impress of the Portuguese settlement of bygone centuries; and as its commerce is attracted more and more every year to Galle,[82] there remains but faint hope that this quaint type will not ere long be effaced by a new style of building, albeit the inhabitants of the capital promise themselves a restored reign of activity and energy, as the result of railway communication with Galle.

[82] The value of the produce exported annually from the island (chiefly cocoa-nuts, coir, cinnamon, and coffee), is above £2,000,000, and the imports of European manufactures are about the same amount.

During our random promenade through the streets of what is called the Fort, we perceived at a sugar-baker's in Chatham Street—the most select quarter of Colombo, and containing the most important warehouses, which, however, are far from elegant in their appearance—some rough ice offered for sale, which had a curious effect in a town so near the Equator, and presenting such few evidences of luxury in other respects. This ice is brought round the Cape of Good Hope from the United States, and is chiefly shipped from Boston. The daily consumption of iced-water, ices, and so forth, is estimated at about 1000 lbs., costing about one shilling the 8 lbs. It is impossible to repress a feeling of astonishment at these speculative Yankees who, despite all obstacles interposed by temperature, transport in all directions and over thousands of miles an article so perishable, so easily destructible as ice, and are able to drive a profitable business in it in the hottest and most diverse regions of the globe—in the West Indies and South America, in Asia, and in Africa.

The traveller who visits Colombo will hardly fail to make an excursion to the Cinnamon Garden, in order to inhale the fragrant and peculiar aroma, and enjoy tasting the tender rind of this remarkable shrub, which plays so conspicuous a part in the history of Ceylon. During the palmy days of cinnamon culture, the five principal cinnamon plantations of the southern half of the island extended some 15 or 20 miles. For this one lucrative product of the soil all others on the island were abandoned, with most deplorable consequences. The cinnamon culture, a monopoly of the various governments which one after another conquered Ceylon, and domineered over its inhabitants, was carried on, especially by the Dutch East India Company, with terrible severity. The slightest embezzlement of cinnamon, or wilful damage to the plant, was visited with death. The unintentional breaking off of a twig of the cinnamon bush was punished with amputation of the offending member. Every cinnamon bush, even to those growing in the gardens of private individuals, was the property of the Government, and the cinnamon collector, or even cinnamon-peeler alone, had the right to strip off the rind when ripe. To destroy such a plant, or even to dispose of it to any one, was regarded as a crime affecting life. The labourers, who were employed in the cutting off, peeling, and preparation of the rind, belonged to the caste of Chalias, and constituted the lowest grade of that class. In like manner, under the English rule, the monopoly of cinnamon was at first continued, with such disastrous consequences to the trade that it was finally abandoned in 1832, and the merchants of Colombo and Galle were left to divide among themselves the exportation of this important article, under an exporting duty of 3s. per lb. These duties, however, were found much too high, as the highest price obtainable in Europe was from 6s. to 7s.; and this advance in the price to the trade of the genuine article, was the cause of foreign merchants turning their attention to the supply of various species of cinnamon-bearing laurels and cassias, growing in Cochin-China and Java.

When Government, recovering at last from its delusion of treating cinnamons, which at first had seemed indigenous to the island of Ceylon alone on the earth,[83] as a national monopoly, reduced the export duty to one shilling, and ultimately repealed it altogether, the various substitutes had already found their level in Europe, as affording a larger supply at a much more moderate rate, and the cultivation of the finer kinds became less and less each year. Prices fell, and the consumption was diminished. Only the coarser sorts repaid exportation. Nay, it even led to the interesting and curious result, that just as, previous to the high price under monopoly, the low-priced cassia displaced the finer sort of genuine cinnamon, at the present day the coarser sorts of cinnamon are beginning to oust the cassia from the English market, whence all the world are supplied. At present there are from 14,000 to 15,000 acres planted with cinnamon, chiefly in private hands, and producing annually from 800,000 to 900,000 lbs. of cinnamon, worth from £40,000 to £50,000 sterling.

[83] Sir Emerson Tennent, in his work (vol. i. p. 599), challenges the assertion that Ceylon is the native country of the cinnamon-tree. In no European or Asiatic chronicles is any mention made of cinnamon as a product or article of commerce in Ceylon up to the end of the thirteenth century. Although it was from the earliest times imported into Europe from Africa through Arabia, the natives trading with Ceylon first knew of the existence on the island of this important shrub about the twelfth or thirteenth century. Hence Sir Emerson looks upon Africa as the native country of the cinnamon-tree.

The chalias, moreover, are no longer, as formerly under the Portuguese and Dutch, adscripti glebæ for life, or slaves that could be purchased with the soil, but free labourers, who are entitled to demand proportionate pay for the lightest services rendered.

The Cinnamon Gardens in the neighbourhood of Colombo, although for the most part gone to decay, nevertheless impart to the whole scene a singularly cheerful, agreeable aspect. The bushes, from 4 to 6 feet in height, with their smooth, beautiful, light green leaves, resembling those of the bay-tree, and their pale, yellow flower-stamens shoot up doubly fresh and succulent, from the snow-white quartz soil in which they best thrive. The flowering season of the cinnamon is in January, and the fruit ripens in April, when the sap is richest in the shrub. In May the boughs are begun to be "barked," which process continues till October. The pruning and gathering of the yearling shoots, which are about the thickness of a man's thumb, is very laborious, and employs many hands. Each labourer cuts off as many as he can conveniently carry in a bundle, then, with the point of a crooked knife, made for the express purpose, strips the entire rind from the wood, carefully scrapes off the exterior corticle and innermost layer, and lays the stripped-off cinnamon rind, now reduced to the thickness of parchment, in the sun, where it dries and curls together. All round the hut, in which the peeling of the rind is carried on, is diffused a most exquisite aroma, caused by the breaking of the leaves or twigs. What is related, however, by various travellers of the fragrance of the cinnamon forests, which they have scented at a great distance seaward, would seem to indicate that this delicious odour emanates from various other aromatic plants in which Ceylon is so rich, rather than the cinnamon groves, the aroma of which, indeed, is not perceptible beyond the immediate vicinity. The best description of cinnamon is not so thick as stout paper, and is fine-grained, flexible, light brown, or golden yellow, sweet and pungent; the coarser qualities are thick-skinned, dark brown, acrid, stinging, and leaves a bitter after-taste. In the warehouses, the cinnamon rinds and canes sorted for shipping are piled upon each other, packed in bales of about 90 lbs. weight each, and carefully sewed. In all cavities and spaces between each layer an immense quantity of pepper is strewn, to preserve the cinnamon during its sea-voyage, by which both spices are benefited, the black pepper absorbing all the superfluous moisture, and gaining by the fragrance of the cinnamon.

Consequent on the diminution of cinnamon cultivation, which undoubtedly has resulted in great measure from the altered taste of mankind and the consequent extraordinary falling off in the demand for this once highly-prized spice, the cultivation of coffee in Ceylon has, during the last 20 years, increased tenfold; and it is solely owing to the dearth of available labour that this branch of produce, considering the splendid profits it returns, is not even more extensively carried on. In 27 districts there are 404 coffee plantations, covering a surface of 80,950 acres, of which, however, only 63,771 acres are really productive. These produced last year, 347,100 cwt., or 5½ centners per acre. To this must be added the quantity under cultivation by the natives, who possess about 36,000 acres of coffee plantations, and in the year 1859 alone, exported 180,000 cwt. We may safely assume, therefore, that the cultivation of coffee is on the eve of transforming this island of Ceylon, from a mere military station of England, into one of the most flourishing colonies of the British Empire. Twenty years ago there were exported barely 60,000 centners, worth £180,000. In September, 1858, the export exceeded 600,000 cwt., which represented on the spot a value of £1,500,000 sterling. "When capital and labour shall have become more plentiful," remarked to us a by no means over-sanguine resident, "Ceylon will have in its mountain districts 240,000 acres planted with coffee trees, yielding at the lowest estimate, 1,680,000 cwt. of coffee annually." Here, as among the high table-lands of Guatemala and Costa Rica, we have the reassuring evidence how one of the most important plants for the civilized man can be profitably cultivated, without having recourse to the blighting influences of slave-labour, at the same time making the lands in which it is produced both rich and prosperous.[84]

[84] The coffee-tree frequently suffers, especially in Ceylon, from an insect called the coffee-bug (Lecanium Coffeæ); as, however, this troublesome insect has only infested the coffee plantations since 1848, and this branch of cultivation has nevertheless increased so surprisingly since then, there seems no reason to dread that the coffee plant will suffer by these bugs, in the same manner or to the same extent as the vine by the ravages of the fungus.

While the cultivation of the coffee-plant has been followed by such splendid results, the repeated attempts to introduce the sugar-cane have been on the contrary as uniformly failures—so that of the numerous plantations established by Europeans, there are at present no more than five remaining. In all those localities where the temperature seemed adapted to the growth of the sugar-cane, the nature of the soil, and the too great humidity have prevented its thriving.

On the other hand, the island possesses two natural products in which but few spots on the globe are qualified to enter the lists with her, and which may be expected to increase in value and importance in proportion as science assumes her share in their exploration. These products are pearls and precious stones.

The most productive pearl banks lie on the west coast of Ceylon, between the 8th and 9th degrees of North latitude, near the level, dreary beach of Condatchy, Aripo, and Manaar. The pearl fisheries are a monopoly, and, therefore, under the inspection of the Government. Former governors had counted too much on the abundance of this natural treasure, and in their blind haste to fill the coffers of the State, had so exhausted the banks, that suddenly, from a source of revenue they became an item of considerable deficiency, and, from 1838 to 1854, could no longer be dredged. From a net annual return of £120,000 sterling, the yearly return had sunk to £10,000, of which nearly one-half was consumed in the attendant expenses. Now-a-days the work is gone about more circumspectly, a scientific examination having been made by a native naturalist, Dr. Kelaart, of all the oyster banks on the west coast. We had the pleasure, while at Colombo, of becoming personally acquainted with this very able, unassuming gentleman, who presented us with several memoirs of his own, touching upon the latest facts that had been ascertained with reference to the pearl oyster. One special result of his various researches has been the demonstration of two facts of the utmost importance to the pearl fishery, and which hitherto had not been fully ascertained—that this mollusc possesses locomotive powers; that its occasional disappearance is perfectly natural; and that, moreover, the pearl oyster may, without any injury, be transplanted from one locality to another—nay, even from salt to brackish water. The first-named observation explains the occasional disappearance of the pearl oyster from certain beds,[85] even when they have not been inordinately thinned by too keen a quest after gain; the latter opens up the pleasing anticipation of the pearl oyster being susceptible of very extensive propagation, by a process similar to that of pisciculture, or artificial breeding of fish (such as the colonies of edible oysters which are met with in the South of France), by transplanting them to such places as seem best suited to the conditions necessary to their highest development. What a splendid conception it were to plant the sea-coasts of Ceylon with pearls, and thus throw the wealth of the island in precious stones into the shade, by the treasures she would possess in the depths of the sea!

[85] This singular property of the oyster, in virtue of which it can be fed to as confirmed obesity as a prize-ox, and admits of nearly as much dexterity in "crossing," if we are to trust the palates of "gourmets," as the Southdown and Leicester breeds of sheep, has received its most extraordinary development in the vicinity of New York, where the amount of capital sunk in the oyster trade considerably exceeds £1,000,000! The finest of these are transferred as spawn from the beds in the East River, or Long Island Sound, to the "nurseries," which are situated in the brackish water near the head of the tide-way, just below the "Highlands of the Hudson." Here they are carefully tended for some months, till, their education being completed, they are re-transferred to their native beds, and fed there with oatmeal daily; while, by some mystery of the craft, the spawning season is postponed, except in the case of those that are selected for propagating the race.

Exactly at the period of our arrival at Colombo, the preparations were being resumed at Aripo for the take of the oysters, which commences at the beginning of February each year, and lasts about three weeks. It is, in fact, a sort of jubilee time for the people, at which the Governor and numbers of the wealthier classes mingle with the populace. Ordinarily this spot becomes at that season a rendezvous for the poor and the wretched, and a rallying point for all manner of abominable odours, filth, troublesome flies, and intolerable heat, despite which drawbacks the fishery is visited by thousands of boats, and hundreds of thousands of men, who flock hither with the alluring prospect of speedy and abundant wealth, or have been attracted from all parts of the Indian Continent by the singularity of the spectacle. Suddenly, as though evoked by the wand of a magician, a regular town starts into existence, of tents, or even neat huts, with bamboo and cabbage-tree palings, roofed over with palm-leaves, rice-straw, or coarse thick woollen cloth; booths for the sale of merchandise "rise like an exhalation" during the night to supply necessaries of all sorts to the converging multitudes from the interior, as well as the fleets of visitors from seaward; and last, not least, the divers themselves. Swindlers and mountebanks throng hither, adroit thieves creep stealthily about, all Indian customs and fashions are represented, all castes jostle each other. Priests, and the subordinate hangers-on of the various sects, hurry about, and jugglers and Nautch girls vie with each other in amusing the noisy multitudes.

The result of numerous experiments has proved that no diving apparatus can replace the human machine, the cost of which, moreover, is a fixed definite quantity, viz., the fourth part of the pearls brought up, which is the diver's share. In each boat, or "Dhonie," are ten divers, each having an assistant. Before the divers proceed to descend, a number of quaint ceremonies are gone through, and incantations murmured, as well in the boats as on shore, by the so-called "shark-charmers;" indeed, the superstition of the divers, who for the most part come from the Coromandel coast, is so great, that not one of their number, Christian or idolator, would continue in this employment without the countenance of the sorcerer; and the Government finds itself compelled to pay the impostors.[86] They levy a tribute of ten oysters upon each boat.

[86] In 1857, the chief shark-charmer was a Roman Catholic!

Accidents with sharks are of rare occurrence: the noise of 1000 divers on the water at once seeming to scare the animals. Moreover, the dark colour of the skin of their bodies, acts as a considerable protection to the divers, so that there are numbers who blacken their legs, in order still more to alarm the monster.[87]

[87] An encounter in the water between a shark and an expert swimmer, armed only with a knife, is not so unequal an affair as might at first be supposed. The pearl fishers of the Gulfs of Panama and Nicoya only use a short stick, with which, if the sharks get above them, they stir up the mud, under cover of which they swim along the bottom for a little distance, and then shoot up to the surface. Of the equality in which a good swimmer armed with a knife feels himself in encountering a shark, there are numerous instances. Many years ago, when shipping was more plentiful in Kingston Harbour, Jamaica, than at the present day, vessels had occasionally to put up with somewhat awkward berths, when they used regularly to "foul their anchors," whereupon it became necessary, of course, to send some one down to free the cable. For this purpose, negro divers were employed, and one man attained a wide reputation from having himself, unscathed, slain in fair combat at different times, no less than five sharks! Ultimately the sharks steered clear of any black man who had a knife suspended round his neck.

After these preliminaries, the divers go down into the water, each carrying a basket-shaped net, in which to bring up the oysters, when selected—a stone of from 15lbs. to 25lbs. weight being fastened round the body, so as more readily to enable him to sink to the bottom. When at a depth of some 5 or 6 fathoms, the diver unfastens the stone, which is forthwith hauled up. He now throws himself forward on his face, and keeps himself as close as he can to the ground, while he rapidly rakes up and collects together all that is within his reach, so as to fill his landing net. He crawls along in this manner during the minute of his submersion, over a space of from 40 to 50 feet; and so soon as he pulls the cord attached to his plaited basket-edge, it is immediately hauled up, and he himself speedily follows it to the surface.[88]

[88] The divers are mostly old men, vigorous and healthy in appearance, thus dispelling the general notion that deep-sea diving weakens the body and shortens life. We were told of one diver, employed during the year 1856, in the pearl fishery, who was so stout and fat, that in addition to the ordinary diver's stone, he had to make fast a considerable weight to his body, in order to sink himself in the water.

The utmost depth at which the diver can safely remain seems to be about 40 feet, beyond which blood is apt to issue from the nose and ears. They seldom remain above 50 or 60 seconds under water, although cases occasionally occur in which the stay under water is protracted to 80 seconds. The diving is carried on for 5 or 6 hours without intermission, so that each of the ten divers can, in the course of a day, bring up from 1000 to 4000 oysters. By dint of good fortune, and close packing, about 150 oysters are brought up in each basket-net, while occasionally an unprolific bed does not give more than five or ten oysters. So soon as the oysters have been dragged to land, they are sorted in shares, of which one goes to the oyster fisher as his remuneration, and the remainder are sold in lots of 1000 each to the highest bidder. Now begins speculation. Chance presides here, quite as capriciously as at a lottery or another game of hazard. It often happens that a single oyster contains thirty or forty pearls, of which some may be worth a sovereign on the spot; but it more frequently occurs that several hundred oysters do not yield a single pearl. The small, valueless pearls, called also "seed pearls," are burnt down, and sold as pearl-lime to the wealthy Malays, by whom it is used as a luxurious addition to the betel and cabbage nuts, as masticatories. The Ceylonese mix the lustreless pearls with other grains, with which they feed the poultry, in whose croops the pearls regain their former brilliancy after a few minutes' grinding. The croop is then slit up, and the glittering stones extracted, white as the most beautiful pearl-muscular tissue.[89]

[89] This method of procedure, which is adopted by the rest of the Indian races, and in which the lustreless pearls are swallowed by hens, pigeons, and ducks, so as to be polished up, after being subjected to the preliminary digestion of these birds, has been proved to be anything but beneficial to the pearls as regards loss by attrition. Careful observation has established, for example, that four pearls, weighing twelve grains, have lost four grains by undergoing this process during twelve hours, while eight others, weighing thirty grains, were reduced to twenty grains after a sojourn of two days in the gizzard of a duck.

The pearl oysters caught on the coast of Ceylon are all of the same species (Meleagrina Margaritifera), uniformly oval in shape, and about 9½ inches in circumference. The number taken in Ceylon annually must be numbered by millions. In the year of our arrival to Ceylon (1858), the pearl fishery yielded £24,120. According to the last returns, before us as we write, there were in the year 1859, 1352 boats engaged during eighteen days in the pearl fishery, the gross take of which amounted to 9,534,951 oysters, sold for £48,216. The divers' shares amounted together to 2,126,749 oysters.

The wide-spread popular delusion, that the pearl in the oyster is but a produce of disease in the animal, has long been refuted by scientific research, and although the great German poet, Henry Heine, in his "Romanzero," sings,

"Those world-famed pearls,
They are but the wan mucus
Of a sad oyster,
Dimly sickening in the depth of the sea!"

it is rather a poetic fancy than a scientific fact. We have latterly been especially indebted to the German naturalist, Theodore von Hessling, for a very circumstantial and thoroughly exhaustive memoir on the natural history of the pearl oysters and their pearls,[90] in which the learned author seeks to establish that the enveloping matter of the germ of the pearl is identical with the covering of the animal, and that in the process of growth two influences are at work, an external and an internal. The first is called into play by the property peculiar to the hinge system that unites the double shell, of gaping wide open, in consequence of which extraneous substances rush in with the current of water, such as minute fragments of quartz, molecules of plants, &c., which, being detained either circling in the cavity, or eddying round the hinges, are seized on in the course of their revolutions, and entangled in the parenchyma of the various organs, which is specially secreted from the mantle, till it becomes enveloped by layers of solid shell. On the other hand, the internal development is closely allied to the conditions of deposition and subsequent growth of the shell-matter. Molecules, either a single grain or congeries of grains, varying from 9.01 to 0.05 of a line (¾ of an inch down to the ¹⁄₂₄₀th of an inch), enclosed in the epidermis of the shell, constitute usually the nuclei of the pearls, which, to a certain extent, may be considered as nothing but a portion of the epidermis not applied to the formation of shell. The pearls also are simply independent concretions growing in the creature, and consisting of the substance of the shell, which are with difficulty discriminated from the various descriptions of growths which constitute the inner surface of the shell.

[90] Die Perlen-Muschel, und ihre Perlen, Naturwissenschaftlich und Geschichtlich mit Berücksichtigung der Perlen-gewässer Bayerns, beschrieben von Theodor von Hessling, Leipzig, 1859.

The great importance of the pearl as an article of luxury and commerce, has naturally led to numerous attempts to manufacture them by artificial means, in the course of which extraneous bodies have been introduced between the mouth and shell of the animal, sometimes with, sometimes without injury to it. The Chinese especially are adepts at placing certain small bodies, specially prepared, in the shells of the pearl oyster, which, after a short time, becomes coated with mother-of-pearl, or nacre. This manufacture of artificial pearls is carried on on a large scale in the neighbourhood of Hong-Chow-Foo. During our stay at Hong-Kong and Shanghai respectively, we ourselves saw several mussel-shells, in which a mother-of-pearl covering had formed over small neatly carved figures, mostly sitting figures of Buddha,[91] the singular appearance of which would, at the first glance tend to make the observer suspect that the pearl had been fastened to the mussel by some adhesive substance. But we had so frequently an opportunity of satisfying ourselves by actually witnessing the entire process, that we could no longer doubt that the carved figures are with the utmost care introduced into the animal, and, after remaining a few days in the water, become attached to the mussel by a distinct membrane. This, their membrane, afterwards becomes interpermeated by the calcareous matter, till, finally, layers of mother-of-pearl are deposited all around the nucleus, the whole formation corresponding with the chalk-like concretions occurring in other creatures.

[91] The antiquity of this experiment is proved by the fact that the Topographia of Ischikiang speaks of a pearl, which had been sent to the Imperial Palace at Pekin, 490 b. c., which resembled Buddha, and apparently must have been produced by this same method; although likewise the priests of Buddha, at that early epoch, might not have objected, in the interests of their religion, to make capital out of such a specimen of artistic skill.

Besides the pearl-shells, the northern shores of Ceylon, especially between the Island of Manaar and Karativoe, are especially rich in beds of a volute mussel (Turbinella rapa, or soluta gravis), which are exported in great numbers to India, where the Hindoo women saw them into rings of all sizes, to be worn as ornaments on the arms, legs, fingers and toes. The chank-shell is likewise a chief instrument of the Buddhists, who, amongst other devout customs, blow three times a day on this sacred shell, to summon believers to worship.[92] It is also used as a festive ornament of the Indian temples, as well as a donation to the dead, which, inspired by a religious feeling, the survivors place in the grave alongside of the corpse of their illustrious departed.

[92] According to the most ancient annals of the Cingalese, the chank-shell is sounded in one of the superior heavens of the demigods (similar to the conk-blowing Tritons of Grecian mythology), in honour of Buddha, as often as the latter wanders abroad on the earth.

The gems found on the island are distinguished, less for their intrinsic value than for the great variety of precious stones which are present. They are, with few exceptions, found to have been disengaged from the primitive rocks, and washed into the alluvial soil, especially in the outskirts of the mountainous districts, where they are rolled along the beds of the streams together with other pebbles, or are washed out of the alluvial deposits. Hitherto, they have only been searched for for purposes of trade, and then only in the most desultory and thriftless way, no one having as yet examined the rocks themselves, by the disintegration of which the valuable stones are disengaged. There was, indeed, no detailed information as to the wealth in precious stones of the island, until the researches of the English mineralogist, Dr. Gygax, who has very lately published on this subject many interesting observations and remarks. The locality in which precious stones are most abundant is, so far as present experience goes, the district of Saffragam, the capital of which in consequence takes the name of Ratnapoora, or Anarhadnaporra, "the city of rubies." They are also found at various other parts of the island; in the plains on the West coast, between Adams' Peak and the sea, at Nuwera Ellia, Kandy, Matelle, and Ruanwelli, near Colombo, as also in Matura, and the river courses on the eastern side, towards the ancient Mahagam. The geologist of the Expedition visited some mines of precious stones near Ratnapoora. These are situated on the Kaluga-Sella, a small tributary of the Kalu-Gunga, and lie, some in the very bed of the river, some on the steep bank. They are about thirty feet deep, but having been some time disused, they are full of water. The uppermost stratum of these pits or mines is a rich fertile yellow loam, exactly resembling our diluvial loams. This is succeeded, according to the report of the proprietor of the mines, by a slimy black clay, and clayey sand, beneath which again is a bituminous clay, holding numerous organic remains, such as leaves, trunks of trees converted into a substance resembling lignite, and not infrequently elephants' tusks and bones of animals; thereafter sand, and lastly a bank of rolled gravel, forming a species of conglomerate with red, yellow, and occasionally blue clay—being, in fact, what is known as stone-gravel. This bank of pebbles is the layer in which the precious stones occur, and these are most commonly found between the larger masses of agglutinated matter, that are always found especially to abound in gems, whenever they are superposed upon what is called malave, which appears to be a sort of greenish-coloured talc-like half-decomposed mica. The most valuable stones that are obtained from these mines are rubies and sapphires. In the Kalu-Gunga, also, precious stones are occasionally washed down, and as the geologist of the Novara Expedition was descending the river in a boat, from Ratnapoora to Caltura, he perceived at several places, more particularly at the various rapids, men standing in the water, provided with flat pan-shaped baskets, in which they sifted the sand and pebbles.

The gems found on the island are rubies, sapphires topazes, amethysts, garnets, cinnamon-stone, and tourmaline. On the other hand, all the diamonds, emeralds, carnelians, agates, opals, and turquoises, which the natives offer for sale, are imported from India. One precious stone, on which the Cingalese set an exceedingly high value, because they erroneously believe that it is peculiar to the island of Ceylon, whereas it is also found on the southern shores of Hindostan, is the "Cat's-eye," a greenish transparent quartz, which, when polished in its natural shape, or "en cabochon," exhibits in its interior a varying reflected light, undoubtedly arising from the presence of fibres of asbestos, and which, in fact, bears some resemblance to the eye of a cat. The natives, as a rule, estimate the value and symmetry of this stone by the brilliancy and tenuity of the beam which it emits, and the clear olive-coloured ground upon which it shines in relief.

A vast number of men give themselves up to the exciting but most uncertain occupation of searching for precious stones, and barter what they have found, chiefly to Mahometan merchants, for clothes and salt. As, however, the natives themselves set a high value on jewels, in consequence of their small bulk admitting of their being readily concealed and easily carried about, the finer descriptions are readily disposed of at a good price, and, singular to say, it has frequently happened, as we ourselves found by personal experience, that precious stones are dearer in Colombo and Galle than in the European markets! The explanation of this paradox is probably that the steady copious influx into the London and Paris markets of precious stones from all parts of the earth where jewels are found, admits of by no means such excessive fluctuations in value as at Ceylon, where the supply actually on hand is so varying, and where the value of the article almost always depends upon the rank and wealth of the Indian purchaser. The foreign traveller very often cannot restrain a feeling of surprise at seeing the fingers of the stately Mahometan jewellers adorned with rings of costly gems, which are only offered for sale to himself at an exorbitant sum.

The value of the precious stones of all sorts found in Ceylon in the course of a year is estimated by Sir Emerson Tennent at about £10,000, one-fourth, at least, of the entire quantity finding a market on the island, a full half being sent to the jewel-polishers of India, so that only the remaining fourth is exported to Europe.

The scant time allotted to us at Colombo was zealously occupied in seeing the utmost that we could of the many interesting objects that invited attention. Among others, we visited one of the largest industrial enterprises in Ceylon, known as Hultsdorf Mill, a cocoa-nut-oil factory, the proprietorship consisting in shares, of which the largest holder is David Wilson, Esq., the Austrian Consular Agent. Here are carried on all the various processes connected with the manufacture, the preparation of the oil-cake from the cocoa-nut, the expressure of the oil, &c., which are carried on by apparatus, partly sent out from England, partly put up in this country, all set in motion by steam-engines. The task assigned in these factories to the natives, of whom above a thousand are employed in the various departments, is, nevertheless, not the less important and significant, that, while machinery is used in those processes where it is necessary to use an agency far transcending the powers of mere human labour, all collateral products, such as soap, candles, perfumery, as also the implements and tools required for the works, and even the barrels and chests required for the transport of the manufactures, are prepared and used by handicraft labour.

To the thoughtful visitor it is a scene of no ordinary interest to behold several hundreds of Cingalese, Hindoos, and Mozambique negroes, all thoroughly conversant with the management of the most magnificent invention of the nineteenth century. Here are a number of artisans employed at the hydraulic presses and iron turning-lathes; in another apartment the various parts of the different machines are being constructed or put together, which regulate the pressure of the steam supplied to the apparatus when in activity; in a third, persons are busy examining and testing the resulting products with scrupulous precision. With all its development, European industry has, in this quarter, exercised but an obscure influence; and, thus far, has been productive of but small results as a civilizing element among this population, which has hitherto shown itself so little disposed to accept the Christian form of civilization.

In the large warehouse belonging to Mr. Wilson, we also saw huge heaps of "Kauris," or Cowries, (cypræa moneta), the renowned, or rather ill-reputed, species of mussel, which comes from the Maldive Islands, and plays so important a part in the commerce with the coast of Malabar and the interior of Africa; while here, it constitutes the sole medium of exchange, which is used by way of barter for almost all sorts of agricultural produce, chiefly among the blacks.[93] These mussels are sent from Ceylon to London, and thence back to the Eastern Coast of Africa, and thus indirectly uphold the slave-trade, as, the native merchants of that region barter these shells, so greatly sought after by all African tribes, as ornament, for negroes and negresses, who are in turn sold to the "speculators in human flesh." A ton of these shells, of which the smaller description are most in request, and therefore the most valuable, costs in Ceylon about £70 to £75.

[93] The Malay name for this mussel is "beya," implying duty, toll, tax, thus leaving it open to conjecture that that nation, in their commerce with the Asiatic and African continents, have for untold ages employed the same principles of currency and expressions of value as ourselves.

To the kindness and active interest in our objects of Mr. Wilson, in whose agreeable villa at Mootwall—the plan and method of construction of which reminded us of the beautiful planters' houses on the sugar estates of Louisiana—we spent the last night of our stay at Colombo, we are also indebted for a copy, with which he presented us, of the most ancient annals of Ceylon, inscribed with an iron graver upon Talipot palm-leaves in the highly-esteemed Pali language, and preserved between richly-carved boards of the costly wood of the Kalamander tree (Diospyrus Hirsuta). This carefully-preserved MS. includes, among others, the celebrated epic poem "Mahawanso," (an abbreviation "Mahantaman Wanso," "Genealogy of mighty men,") which recites under 100 heads, and in 9175 verses, the most important events connected with the interior constitution and history of the island, as also of all the battles fought by the inhabitants in foreign countries from b. c. 543 to the year 1758, a. d. Of these, the most renowned historic relics of the Cingalese, 38 chapters, of 262 pages 4to, were translated into English by George Tumour, Esq., an eminent Pali scholar, and printed at Ceylon, in the year 1837. Unfortunately, his earnest desire to publish the rest of this highly-interesting work was destined not to be gratified. The grave closed over him ere he could realize his wish. At present, however, there is a prospect of the translation of the "Mahawanso" being completed by Mr. James de Alwis, a worthy follower in the footsteps of Mr. Turnour, chiefly through the munificence of Government and of the Scientific Institutes, which were invoked to supply the requisite assistance for the prosecution of an undertaking likely to prove so unremunerative.

In addition to the copy of the "Mahawanso," we also procured a number of other important Cingalese MSS. on Talipot palms, which were made use of by Tumour, partly in his translation of the "Mahawanso," partly in his other works upon Ceylon, and which embrace numerous valuable historical details not comprised in the "Mahawanso." This complete collection of the most antique annals of the Island of Ceylon, in the purchase of which we were kindly favoured with the advice and assistance of Mr. Wilson at Colombo, together with a variety of other Cingalese MSS. on palm leaves, collected at a subsequent date, now form part of the collection of valuable books in the Imperial Royal Library at Vienna.

Besides Mr. Wilson, our very best thanks are due to the Colonial Secretary, Sir C. J. McCarthy, who had the kindness to provide several of the members of the Novara Expedition with the requisite letters of introduction to the authorities in the interior of the Island: also to Mr. John Selby, the very obliging proprietor of the Examiner; to Dr. Kelaart, physician and naturalist; to Charles P. Layard, Esq., the Government Agent for the Western Provinces; and to Captain Gosset, Surveyor-General, for their numerous attentions. The last-mentioned gentleman very kindly provided us with a pair of level-tubes which we urgently needed for one of our levelling instruments, and which, in this quarter of the globe, were more rare and difficult to be met with than pearls or precious stones.

Our return from Colombo to Galle, was not less marked by misadventures than our journey thither. As far as Caltura, where our amiable Father Miliani was in waiting for us with his neat single-horse equipage, to convey us to the beautiful parsonage of St. Sebastian Makùn, all went tolerably smoothly with us. We arrived, as had been concerted, to breakfast with this hospitable shepherd of souls. On our way to the parsonage, we noticed that great respect was paid to the worthy Father, by such of the Cingalese as met us. Their usual salutation was to bend themselves to the earth, veiling their eyes at the same time, and bending forward the outstretched head as though to implore a blessing. Father Miliani, who held the reins in his left hand, while his right hand flourished a long heavy whip, slightly inclined his body upon the cabriolet, and so dismissed in peace the poor folk that besought his benediction. When we had now got pretty near the parsonage, we were suddenly brought to a halt by a couple of natives, of whom one implored the spiritual ministration of the Father for his wife, then lying almost in articulo mortis, while the other had brought with him, from the sacristy of Makùn, the Communion-plate required for the purpose. The priest, to whom this interruption seemed to come as a matter of course, stopped, apologized for the unexpected delay, threw the reins to one of the party, sprang from the waggon, and disappeared in the gloom of the forest. It was not for long, as it proved; for the stately, handsome figure of the priest of Makùn presently appeared between the cocoa-palms. He had found the woman much less dangerously ill than he had been led to expect by the report of the husband, the native converts to Christianity being very much given to requesting the administration of the rites of the Church, upon being attacked by the slightest indisposition, because they anticipate much more benefit from spiritual treatment than from the medicines of their body-curers. And now we proceeded on our way to the parsonage at a smart gallop, which, however, did not prevent a zealous, much-believing Cingalese from keeping up with the mettled horse, stride for stride, for the entire distance, keeping close to the waggon as he ran alongside. We were not then aware, indeed, whether this violent bodily exercise was undertaken as a matter of choice or as a penance, but it seemed to us, in any case, an act far less meritorious than prejudicial to health.

In St. Sebastian de Makùn, the entire community were awaiting our arrival, and escorted us by a romantic hill, and through a delicious palm-forest, to the priest's abode. Here we found the porch of the house gaily adorned, and metamorphosed with tropical fruits and flowers into a smiling fragrant bower, with the feathery leaf of the cocoa-palm cut into thin strips. The inventive ingenuity of the Cingalese had endeavoured to represent the various birds found in tropical forests, which were suspended in ornamental baskets of green leaves among the festoons. Over the entrance to this bower, improvised out of materials supplied by the primeval forest, was placed a picture painted by the good Father himself, representing a large anchor, with the superscription in Italian "La speranza non confunde!" (Hope never disappoints!) This was evidently a delicate allusion of our kind-souled entertainer to the hope which he had expressed during our previous visit, that he should see us on our return from Colombo, "which had not been disappointed."

In the interior of the arbour appeared an elegantly appointed table, that seemed ready to give way under the weight of good things spread upon it, around which were placed a number of arm-chairs, worked in tapestry, while the plastered floor was strewed with the glistening green leaves of the Ficus religiosa. As soon as we had taken our seats, the members of the community, consisting of more than a hundred tawny, half-naked Cingalese (principally men and children), arranged themselves in a circle, and some half-dozen dancers began to execute a very ordinary-looking dance to the sound of a drum. The entire figure consisted in their simply approaching each other from opposite sides, during which they struck the hollow-sounding instrument pretty sharply, holding it in their hand the while, after which they drew away from each other, and wound up by dancing round in a circle in couples. A boy of eight, in glittering costume, next performed a dance, in which he was accompanied by a grown-up Cingalese who sung, occasionally accompanied by drum and fife. Frequently we enquired what was the meaning of the vocal accompaniment to the dance, but could get no information upon the subject. But we have always had occasion to remark among the various primitive races, that they are rarely able to give any connected account of the history of their dances or even their songs, but simply go through a set of mechanical figures which they have learned, or rehearse a set of words by rote, without being able to assign any signification to either. Over and over again have we put the question, only to receive the same stereotyped answer from Hindoos, Negroes, Chinese, Malays, and Polynesians, that they could tell us nothing more than that these songs and dances took their origin in the "olden times." Breakfast was served in the arbour by Cingalese boys. As often as the hospitable Father turned to apologize for his scanty means, which prevented him from ministering to our entertainment as he could wish, some new dish would be forthcoming, or some fresh kind of wine would be produced, till one knew not which most to admire, the variety of the entertainment, or its cost in preparation.

On inquiring of Father Miliani, in the course of conversation, whether he had any acquaintance with the plants to which the natives ascribe healing properties, he sent for a phial containing an oily substance, which; according to the Cingalese herbalists, is composed of 57 different roots and as many flowers, and has already been wonderfully efficacious in cases of persons bitten by poisonous serpents. It is called by the natives, Visanili-Katail (oil against poison); and the priest of Makùn remarked to us, he had himself had an opportunity of satisfying himself as to the marvellous curative qualities of this vegetable substance, in the case of persons who had been bitten by the most venomous snake in the whole island, the Cobra di Capello, who had entirely recovered by the copious use of this antidote. The application is very simple. The mouth is rinsed out with it, and the patient further takes from 15 to 20 drops of the oil internally. Unfortunately, we were not able to inquire more particularly as to the ingredients from which the Visanili-Katail is compounded, of which we eventually got a small quantity to carry away with us, after much entreaty; but by way of compensation, Father Miliani was able to give us much valuable information as to the manners, customs, and traditions of his flock. He regretted, however, that they were all of a highly impassioned strain, and that they constantly passed from one extreme to the other. The following trait, which was pointed out to us by the Father in the course of conversation, may serve to indicate the modes of thought and observation of the natives. When the Cingalese perceived how eagerly and with what warmth of friendship the Father received us, they inquired of him whether he had been previously an acquaintance of ours, as they were unable to conceive the existence of such hearty good-will between persons who were utter strangers to each other. The priest, readily appreciating the results which must flow from the reply he should give, in confirming the devout souls of his children, replied that the reputation of his name had long since penetrated to us, and we were unwilling to ride by without turning aside to salute him, to which he had readily expressed his assent, and had also long since been apprized of the important mission of the Austrian ship of war, whose commander was termed by the natives, with the bombast of their native tongue, "King of the Sea." At our departure, the kind Father presented us with several interesting articles, as souvenirs of Makùn, while we, on our part, left with him a donation in money to defray the expenses of erecting his church.

Father Miliani, the band of musicians, consisting of ten or twelve wild-looking fellows, with all manner of barbarous musical instruments, of which they made not less barbarous use, together with a laughing, yelling, gesticulating crowd of half-naked Cingalese, with long raven locks floating over their shoulders, accompanied us to our travelling chariot. Here we took leave of the hospitable Father, the vehicle set out on its route, and the whole brown retinue at once dispersed.

Hardly had we left the Mission of St. Sebastian Makùn behind us, ere our troubles began afresh. At almost the very first station we came to, we had to hire a horse from a resident at an exorbitant rate—the animal belonging to the station, and which had been engaged for us, being utterly useless. This gave occasion for fresh delays. The party letting the horses was what is called a native doctor, who assumed the title of "native vaccinator," and bitterly complained, that for his attendance four days in every week, as required by the law, for the purpose of inoculation, he only received from Government a monthly salary of £2 5s. sterling. Whatever deficiency existed in his salary, he seemed determined to make up for in the hire of his horse, which he charged for at the rate of ten shillings for six miles! On the cash being forthcoming, our "native vaccinator" did not disdain himself to take the reins, and, with his own hands, apply the whip to his mare between the shafts of our vehicle. But this mark of distinction was destined, ere long, to cost us dear. Hardly had we proceeded a couple of miles under his care, when the hind-wheels of the vehicle sunk into a rut, whence our Æsculapian steed lacked the strength to extricate us. To complete the sum of our misfortunes, at the very moment we were using our utmost endeavours to replace the waggon on the regular track, it came on to rain heavily, and we were, in a twinkling, wet to the skin. Some thirty young Cingalese, in the full dress of Adam before the Fall, who were standing open-mouthed round the waggon, could only be roused by threats from their passive attitude; and when, finally, they lent a hand to assist, they, in their ill-timed zeal, came near oversetting the waggon into the ditch on the opposite side. Next, we exchanged this stubborn brute for one that was blind. For a brief space we hoped the latter might probably be the more easily driven in consequence of his not seeing what was going on around him; but these anticipations were speedily dispelled, and in a rather unpleasant manner. The short distance that now separated us from our destination seemed as though it would never have an end; and, in a word, it was already verging on midnight ere we reached Galle, where we had been expected to dinner five hours before, by our hospitable friend, the Consul for Hamburg. Some of the invited guests had already left this agreeable house, while others were still seated at the whist-table, as, wearied and exhausted, we entered the drawing-room. The circumstances that had so seriously delayed our arrival were explained by way of apology, and proved the subject of some goodnatured quizzing on our misfortunes by the guests present; and in such agreeable society, and over a sumptuous supper, we speedily forgot the trifling annoyances of our latest experiences.

In the course of a desultory agreeable conversation about the natural beauties of the island, many were the plans of more distant excursions which we projected this evening—which, however, upon more mature consideration, all proved impracticable, owing to the scanty time at our disposal. Thus we found ourselves, much against our wishes, compelled to forego a visit to Kandy, and its beautiful environs, in which is situated the renowned temple that enshrines the tooth of Buddha, the occupation of which by the English was, in the eyes of the Cingalese, the most manifest indication of their being the legitimate conquerors of the kingdom.[94] Neither were we able to take part in an elephant hunt, although these animals are found in the island in such quantities, that it is related, with every appearance of accuracy, of a single elephant hunter, the late Major Rodgers, who was struck dead by a flash of lightning a few years since in the midst of the forest, that he had, in the course of his life of active exercise, laid low fifteen hundred elephants with his own hand! But permission was granted by the commander of the Expedition to the geologist and one of the zoologists to remain in Ceylon, and rejoin the frigate at Madras by the steamer which runs fortnightly, so as to enable them to ascend the world-famous Adam's Peak, 7000 feet high, one of the loftiest peaks in Ceylon, where, according to tradition, the founder of the Buddhist doctrine, when last he visited the earth, in answer to the supplications of a priest, left behind the print of his footstep (Sri-pada), as a visible sign of his presence.

[94] The legend relating to these relics, about which so many wars were waged, goes back as far as the third century of the Christian era, when Mahasana, a true believer, having become King of Ceylon, purchased these teeth for numerous valuable presents, of one of his kindred, a Calinga king in Bengal, who sent them over by his princes. The tooth Dahata Wahansa immediately achieved a miracle—it illumined the entire island, and supplanted all heretical teaching. It was forthwith enveloped in a hundred cloths, and a temple erected to enshrine it, since which it has been regarded as the Palladium of Ceylon. When, in 1560, this tooth was transferred to the temple at Manaar by the Portuguese under Constantin de Braganza, the king offered the Portuguese bigots 600,000 pieces of gold by way of ransom. Braganza judged it more advisable to destroy the tooth. But he little knew the adroitness and subtlety of the Buddhist priesthood. The very next morning the tooth, that had been supposed to be destroyed was marvellously found in a Lotos leaf in the temple, where it had been deposited by Buddha himself!

We cite, in the following extract, the most prominent features of this venture, as supplied by the two members of the Expedition who undertook it, so as to complete the description of the Novara's visit to Ceylon:—

"On 13th January, 1858, we proceeded from Colombo to Ratnapoora, en route, to visit Adam's Peak, a tolerably long and tedious journey. On the margin of a river we encountered an elephant, who was engaged in assisting the labourers on the public roads in that vicinity. While our car and the baggage were being embarked here, and again put in order, this animal went through a number of tricks, such as swaying to and fro, lying down, raising his trunk, and trumpeting, the latter of which, at a sign from his driver, he did with a vengeance, and for so doing was rewarded with a few plantains. These exercises seem to constitute the first steps in taming, as they were gone through in a similar manner by all the elephants we afterwards saw, whether employed like this one in task-work, or maintained for show, or made use of in the Temple service.

At mid-day we reached Ratnapoora, and as we were anxious to shorten as much as possible our next day's journey, we decided on pushing forward in the course of the afternoon, as far as the little village of Gilli-Mali, seven miles further on. We had been provided by C. W. Layard, Esq., the Government Agent in Colombo, with letters of introduction to his deputy, Mr. Mooyart, at Ratnapoora, who, however, we unfortunately found was absent from home. Next day, however, we had unmistakable evidence that our letters had, very shortly after our departure, reached the hands they were intended for, by a variety of precautions which the hospitable gentleman must have at once arranged with a view to our greater comfort. While yet on the second-half of our road to Gilli-Mali, night overtook us, and we prosecuted our march by torch-light through the dense jungle. Our guides and porters had shown some reluctance to enter this jungle, partly on account of the swarms of land-leeches (litchies, as they are termed here, doubtless by a corruption of the English name), which are especially active during the night, partly from other causes of anxiety. Accordingly, they kept reciting Cingalese ditties, alternated with shrill yells, or shouted, so as to be heard at a distance; whether to drive away evil spirits, or to frighten the chetah or leopard, we could not ascertain. No long time elapsed ere we ourselves began to perceive traces of having been victimized by that most uncomfortable of guests, the land-leech. The naked Hindoos were incessantly occupied with pulling off these painful blood-suckers, and we had to call a halt from time to time, in order to loosen and carefully fling them away, as they had succeeded in reaching the skin, through the trousers immediately above the boot. They are found up to an elevation of 4000 feet above the sea on the mountains, chiefly in damp or wet localities, and are most active during the evening and night in the selection of a victim.

At Gilli-Mali, we fell in with Mr. Braybrooke, an English engineer, who most hospitably invited us to his bungalow, and with whom we conversed upon topics relating to Ceylon, till far into the night.

Next day we had to ascend the Peak itself; which is in so far a difficult undertaking on the side from which we approached it, that one has gained no vantage-ground at Gilli-Malli, our last night's resting-place, towards reaching the summit, so that one sees it in its entire colossal height of above 7000 feet directly in front; whereas, in ascending from Kandy, one has already, at Neuwera Ellia, attained an elevation of 4000 feet, which can be performed in a carriage. We set out at 7 a. m., and after an hour-and-a-half's march, gained the last village, Balahab-a-Dullu, in the Buddhist temple of which is kept a flat metal dish, adorned with silver rosettes, with which the imprint of the holy footstep is covered over at the season of the annual pilgrimage. On the table, before a colossal figure of Buddha, were strewn, as usual, a quantity of flowers presented by the faithful; these were the flower-shrubs of the Areca palm, Hibiscus, Alamanda, Tagetes; also, close to the wooden statue, are placed several small figures of silver or wood, 3 or 4 inches long. The priest also showed us a magnificent manuscript of at least 1000 palm leaves, closely and beautifully engraved on both sides with Cingalese characters, which belonged to the temple, and was guarded with great care.

At a solitary house on the road, we left our guides and porters to discuss their modest repast, which, in consequence of the strict ordinances of the Buddhist faith, consists of vegetable substances only. Reclining on a mat spread on the ground, each took a piece of green plantain leaf, scattered upon it a little rice which they had just brought with them, and some chili (red Spanish pepper), and thence conveyed their simple food to their mouth with the hand. This frugal meal was speedily concluded, and we once more pushed forward. From this point we had the dense covert of the high forest trees, the lofty foliage of which afforded a most agreeable shade, and kept us comparatively cool. The path, which consists simply of ravines, formed by the rush of torrents during the rainy season, is so steep that it seems like one uninterrupted flight of stairs, the steps of which seem partly constructed by Nature, partly by the hand of man. Frequently they are artistically chiselled in the solid rock; at one stupendous precipice a Cingalese monarch has had four flights, of 250 steps in all, hewn out of the living rock. Here and there, also, ladders have been contrived, the rounds of which are composed of pieces of bamboo bound together, by which one clambers up. The whole route bears marks of being much used, and is considerably worn, the stones being rubbed quite smooth. Under the damp shade of the forest are found a vast quantity of the most beautiful ferns and Lycopodium (Club-moss; or Wolf's-claw, as it is called in Sweden, whence the Linnæan name); from the delicate beauty of the Jungermania (Star-tip), to the tree-like fern, Filius Phyllophisidos, which vies with the giants of the forest. The more deeply shaded spots are adorned here with beautiful balsams, a genus of plants which, besides being unusually luxuriant and beautiful in this district, exhibits certain peculiarities of form not usually met with.

At one place, called Nihilabellagalla, there was pointed out to us, at a few paces to the side of the road, near a rugged projecting rock with a steep declivity in front, a narrow valley which seemed to be closed in by perpendicular walls of rock on the opposite side. This cul de sac, we were informed, was a favourite resort of numerous wild elephants. A shot fired at this point, with the gun directed towards the rocks opposite, returned a thundering echo.

By 4 p. m. the last halt, or resting-place, was reached, above which the singular-looking cone towers sheer overhead, some 500 or 600 feet high. The vapours which, during the entire day, had been playing about the summit, from time to time lifted like a veil, as though to indulge us with an opportunity of beholding this sublime mountain-peak under the magical effect of twilight. Our native retinue, which had gathered fresh accessions of strength at every place we passed, and now consisted of from 24 to 30 persons, showed no inclination to proceed farther, but appeared desirous of passing the night at the last halting-place, which was nothing but a sort of hovel. It was only by a resolute expression of our determination to reach the summit the same evening that they gave in. Their reluctance arose from an idea that no one could with impunity pass the night on the highest point of the mountain—which, indeed, is natural enough, since the sharp night-air at such an elevation may well be prejudicial to the health of those who are not sufficiently protected against its attacks.

The last portion of the ascent is so steep, and so difficult, that all superfluous baggage was left behind, and we took with us only what was absolutely indispensable. Thus far we had seen occasional traces of elephants, sometimes so fresh, that they could not have been more than an hour old. According to a report of Major Skinner, the unmistakable marks of one of these animals was remarked in the year 1840 quite close to the rock which bears the sacred footprint! At the steepest points, iron ladders have been made fast, by which the visitor has to scramble up. There were, also, innumerable chains fastened to the rock, of every description and variety of link, which swung to and fro by dozens on either hand, some eaten away with age and rust, some forged quite lately, it being considered a meritorious work to provide such as a protection against the occurrence of accidents. By 6 p. m., we at last reached the summit, and were rewarded with a panoramic view of indescribable magnificence. The mists were almost entirely dispersed, and in the clear, calm, evening light, the eye wandered at pleasure over the vast, almost limitless, panorama at our feet, as far as the sea, barely visible in the grey distance. Bounding our view from north-west to east, the mountain ranges rose by three distinct terraces of hills, each behind the other, and in regular gradations, till they culminated in the highest peak on the island, the Pedro-talla-galla, which overtops Adam's peak by nearly 1000 feet,[95] but presents no pre-eminent peak, similar to that on which we now stood. The remainder of the horizon was filled with low mountains, which gradually became more and more flat as they approached the coast. The followers of three religions,—Buddhists, Brahmins, and Mahometans, stand face to face with each other on this space of barely a few steps, in order to bow before these visible emblems, in sincere devotion to the invisible Deity. The highest surface, which is nearly level, is of an irregular oval form, and is about 60 or 70 feet in length, by from 36 to 40 feet in breadth, and is inclosed within a wall 5 feet in height, with two entrances on the west and south, while the north-east corner is shut out by an artificially rounded rock, easily surmounted, however, by any one who ascends it. In the middle of this enclosure stands a block of rock some 10 or 11 feet high, which, on the extreme top, has a depression, the divine Sri-pada, or Holy Footstep. The adoration consists chiefly of offerings of flowers which are brought up hither, and presented with innumerable genuflections, invocations, and exclamations of "Sadoo," which corresponds to the Christian Amen. The impressed foot-print is ascribed by the Buddhists to the last incarnation of Buddha, the gentle hermit Gautama; while it is regarded by the Brahmins as the footstep of Siva, and by the Mahometans as that of Adam, as being the spot on which the progenitor of the human race stood so long, doing penance after his expulsion from Paradise, until the Almighty pardoned him.

[95] The precise relative elevations of the two mountains are, Pedro-talla-galla 8280 feet, Adam's Peak 7420 feet. Two other peaks of the main range are also higher than Adam's Peak, viz. Totapella 7720 feet, and Kirrigal-potta 7810 feet, while the plains, or table-lands, of Welinani and Neuwera Ellia are, respectively, no less than 6990 feet and 6210 feet above the level of the sea.

This depression, in which only the most unbridled imagination can see any resemblance to the human foot, is about 5 feet in length by 2½ in breadth, and is set, as it were, in a level stratum of mortar, several inches in height, by six in breadth, shaped to resemble the outline of the human foot. At its anterior extremity, it presents a straight line, on which the five toes are artificially formed by several tolerably thick, narrow crevices, filled with mortar, and about 8 or 9 inches in length, which jut inwards, the great toe being on the right or east side, and thus indicating that it is a representation of the left foot. At the heel end the setting of mortar is somewhat narrowed and rounded off. Over the whole affair a wooden temple with balustrades open on all sides, has been erected, which is fastened by iron chains to the rock, and to beams of rhododendron fastened on the N.W. side, outside the wall, to prevent its being swept away by the storms which, on this lofty, exposed peak, occasionally rage with great vehemence. These cables, as also several of the poles by which the temple was supported, were thickly hung with carved figures of Buddha enveloped in linen cloth, which, originally the votive offerings of pilgrims, and bleached by long exposure, fluttered in the breeze. On the front of the temple is erected a penthouse roof, shading a bench beneath, on which several of our porters, who regarded our impious presence, and still more impious admeasurements of the holy footprint, with a horror which they flattered themselves was unobserved, deposited their offerings of flowers, and humbly bent the knee. On the west side, under two small distinct roofs, were two bells, and quite apart, on the rock itself, and somewhat in the background, a smaller temple. Between the block of rock and the inner half of the enclosure, a small house has been erected, 12 feet long by 6 feet broad, which is used as a shelter at night by the priests who are on duty during the pilgrimage season,[96] in which we too took up our quarters. Suddenly, from the depths below there arose, through the unbroken silence of the night, a confused murmur, in which the sounds of human voices were plainly recognizable. The singularity of such a phenomenon produced a certain degree of excitement among our superstitious spectre-dreading followers, inasmuch as it had never happened that strangers undertook the ascent of the peak at night, seeing it gives trouble enough to reach the summit by daylight. By degrees we perceived a number of torches borne by natives, who, with loud and long-continued cheers, set about slowly ascending the ladders. To the inquiries of our followers they made no reply; and we had, in a word, to wait a considerable interval, until, indeed, the leading torch-bearer had reached the summit, ere we were enlightened as to the object of this mysterious nocturnal visit. How great, and let us add, agreeable was our surprise at finding ourselves suddenly surrounded by a choice array of wines, with food of various sorts, which the overflowing hospitality of Mr. Mooyart had dispatched after us to the summit of Adam's Peak, together with his card, the whole being conveyed in huge baskets by the supposed spectres! A cheerful fire speedily blazed up, at which our tea and provisions were cooked, and, as may well be supposed, while, enjoying our delicate fare, we thankfully toasted the kind and thoughtful donor.

[96] The dry season, occurring in the south-west side of the island from January to April, is likewise the chief season of pilgrimage, at the end of which the entire amount of the offerings, annually averaging from £250 to £300 sterling, is handed over to the High-Priest of Buddha.

Deep silence once more fell on all around, no cry of any wild beast reached us at this elevation, no hum of insect broke upon the awful stillness. Our coolies lay cowering together around the drooping blaze, seeking some shelter against the night air. One division stowed themselves away in a second sleeping-house for priests, which had been run up some twenty paces distant, in which we also were in the end fain to seek shelter from the ever-increasing keenness of the air, the temperature of which fell to 54°.5 Fahr., where, with our wrappers drawn close around us, and stretched at full length on the bare rock, we awaited the approach of morning.

The first faint glimmer of dawn invited us once more to the open air, in order to contemplate the wonderful aspect of Nature at this elevation. We had, after leaving Ratnapoora, taken barometrical and thermometrical observations, with the view of determining the elevation at nine different stations, which had been, wherever practicable, selected in such manner, that by means of them the various limits of certain classes of vegetation were indicated, which in many instances are marked out with extraordinary distinctness upon the perpendicular side of the peak. These series of observations, which were at the same time supplemented by investigations as to the temperature of the soil and of various springs, will be compared with the results of previous scientific visitors to the summit of Adam's Peak, and published in another form. The geology of the isolated pinnacle of Adam's Peak, so far as the dense covering of primeval forests permitted us to observe, is uncommonly simple and uniform. The chief directions of the lofty chain of mountains in Southern Ceylon, separated from each other by level plateau-like depressions, is from S.S.E. to N.N.W., corresponding likewise with the chief directions of the strata of gneiss, of which these mountains are composed. The gneiss is uniformly of a species not often met with, studded with garnets, and between its strata are inserted single beds of hornblende-gneiss and splinters of pure hornblende, as also granulite-gneiss and pure granulite. The steep, final cone of the rock consists of a granulitic gneiss of varying texture from coarse to fine, and abounding in garnets. Everywhere, even up to the highest summit, the gneiss is decomposed on the surface into laterit-like products. The huge blocks of brown ironstone, however, which are found near the summit, in the hollow path by which it is customary to ascend, owe their origin to the decomposition of the hornblende.

After these interesting observations, admeasurements, and investigations, made at the summit of the most remarkable peak in the world, had been brought to a conclusion, we set out on our return to Gilli-Mali, which we reached late at night. Here we found, at the abode of our hospitable entertainer, Mr. Braybrooke, a fresh guest, who likewise intended to ascend Adam's Peak the following day. This was the well-known Count Medem, a Russian gentleman, who has frequently traversed both the old and new worlds, and was now about making a second visit to China.[97] The next day saw us at Ratnapoora, from which point we continued our return journey on the waters of the Kalu-Gunga, or Black River, as far as Caltura.

[97] Count Medem died the same year at Shanghai.

Our boat consisted of two trunks of trees hollowed out and fastened together, upon which was erected a semicircular tilt, covered with the leaves of the Fan Palm (Borassus Flabelliformis), under which one might sit or lie at pleasure, sheltered from the sun. As the mail-car that runs daily from Colombo to Caltura was already full, we were compelled, in order to pursue our journey to Galle, to make use of the native waggon, or bullock-bandy. This is a two-wheeled cart drawn by oxen, and covered with a semicircular tilt of palm-leaves, beneath which there was room for two persons to lie at full-length packed closely together. The oxen, of a breed that have humps and erect horns, are small, and walk with a quick, short tramp, while their entire bodies are tattooed with Cingalese characters and ornaments. The horns are usually adorned with metal tips, and frequently are dyed, the one red, the other green. The cross-piece of the pole is fastened to the neck instead of the customary yoke, and the cord for guiding the animal passes through the nose. The driver either strides along between the two oxen, or sits with his back to them on the pole. The rate of progression by this national conveyance is so slow, that the mail-car which left Colombo the day after overtook us long ere we reached our destination, and it was with some difficulty we reached Galle in time for the overland steamer which was to bring us to Madras."

PLATE VI.—TRACK FROM POINT DE GALLE TO MADRAS.
[Larger.]

At 6 a. m. of the 16th January, the Novara set sail from the roads of Point de Galle with light breezes off the land, and steered southerly in order to avoid the Basses or Baxos, a much-dreaded rocky shoal, traditionally alleged to be the remains of the island of Giri, swallowed up by the sea, and which, owing to the very strong current, require the utmost care to be observed, in order to avoid drifting right upon them.[98]

[98] A late survey, instituted with the intention of erecting a lighthouse on the "Basses," proved a failure, in consequence of the ground having sunk in while an examination was being made by the diver, and left nothing but holes filled with water, in which, according to the report of the fishermen, besides fish and molluscs, sea-snakes are occasionally seen, of a light-gray colour, and about 4 or 5 feet in length.

The evening before our departure, the Consul for Hamburg had requested from the Commander of the Expedition the favour of a free passage to Madras, on board our frigate, for a native of Berlin, named Neupert. This man had come to Ceylon a long time previously with a company of rope-dancers, and had at first made a good deal of money as an acrobat and juggler, despite the dangerous competition of the Indian practitioners, but had afterwards lost his all, and had been for some weeks in a pitiable plight. The request was at once acceded to, and Neupert came on board during the night. His luggage did not encumber him much. However, although the greatest part of his effects had disappeared in Galle, he fortunately had kept his various apparatus; and, by way of showing his gratitude for the free passage that had been accorded to him, professed his willingness, in the course of the voyage, to give us some specimens of his skill on deck. Accordingly, one fine afternoon, he gave us an entertainment out on the open ocean, which not alone hugely pleased the sturdy tars grouped together on the forecastle, but ultimately, in consequence of a collection set on foot for the unfortunate Berlin acrobat, procured him enough ready money to enable him to pass the first week after his arrival at Madras free from anxiety, besides supplying him with a fresh outfit.

Within a few days after our departure from Galle, several severe cases occurred of hemeralopia, chiefly among members of the ship's band. Every evening, as darkness set in, these men lost all power of distinguishing objects, and had to be led about like blind men. In Vienna, we had been advised by various physicians there, with a view to the confirmation or refutation of the popular belief, to try the use of boiled ox-liver;[99] and, as one of the oxen shipped at Ceylon had been slaughtered, we were in a position to make the desired experiment, which, it must be confessed, proved eminently successful. This time, moreover, several of those thus afflicted were treated with cooked pig's-liver, which was given them to eat, while the steam rising from the dish was applied to their eyes. But we had, on our return voyage, the most convincing proof of the efficacy of the liver of animals of the ox tribe in cases of night-blindness, when above twenty of those afflicted, after frequent relapses during the voyage from Valparaiso to Gibraltar, were treated in the last-named port with ox-liver, and dismissed permanently cured.[100]

[99] This cure is likewise very much resorted to, even of late years, among the Highlands of Scotland!

[100] During the entire voyage round the globe, there occurred 75 cases of Hemeralopia; the largest number of which, 60, occurred between Cape Horn and Gibraltar. The remainder were isolated cases, occurring at Rio, Ceylon, the Nicobar Islands, and on the voyage from China to Sydney.

The voyage from Ceylon to Madras was, on the whole, monotonous and void of interest, with the exception of one single event, which no one on board is likely to forget for the remainder of his life. About 3.30 p. m. of the 2nd January, 1858, there suddenly resounded from the hold, the astounding cry of "Fire! fire!" Everyone rushed, in the utmost excitement, on deck. It turned out that a by no means insignificant quantity of pure alcohol, which was stowed away in the hold for the preservation of specimens of natural history, had, from some unknown cause, caught fire. Forthwith the pumps were manned, the sails clewed up, all the portholes closed, so as to cut off the slightest draught, and all the hammocks of the crew trundled, pêle-mêle on deck anyhow, out of the quarter-nettings, in which they are stowed away during the day, there to be dipped in sea-water, and in that wringing-wet condition applied, partly in extinguishing the flames, partly in preventing the fire from spreading. In less than a quarter of an hour the worst danger was over, and our wonted quiet restored, despite the first terrible excitement. On a more searching investigation, several of the tin carboys in the hold, filled with spirits of wine, and kept between layers of sand in iron chests, were found to have been corroded till the liquor had oozed through, while the air, having free access to the sand, had become strongly impregnated with gas. This atmosphere, impregnated as it was with alcoholic fumes, took fire on one of the sailors carelessly entering the hold with a badly-fastened lantern, and in a moment the light flames which speedily enveloped the man in such a confined space, at once gave the alarm. The full carboys remained uninjured by the fire. Had such a catastrophe happened, and the whole quantity of spirit (about 40 gallons) taken fire, considering the immense quantities of combustible matter we had on board, among the rest a ton-and-a-half of gunpowder, the upshot must have been of a far less agreeable nature. The extraordinary lightning-like activity displayed by the entire ship's company on this occasion was something wonderful. Each man seemed to have got wings. There was the most laudable emulation displayed by all hands in seeking to save the lives of themselves and others from such a terrible doom.

On the 30th January, at 7.30 p. m., we anchored in Madras Roads, so dreaded for their insecurity, about three nautical miles from the shore, and in 9 fathoms (56 feet English). Even in the calmest weather there is a tremendous surf on this coast, and from October to December, in which strong gales blow from the N.E., it is all but unapproachable. For this reason, so soon as the wind increases so as to endanger the ships in the roads, a flag is hoisted on a staff at the Master Attendant's office, that they may put to sea at once. On the second signal, all ships must quit the Roads for fear of being dashed through the surf upon the beach.

From the city we heard a running fire of musketry and some salutes with cannon, which, considering the prevalence of warlike rumours and movements in the then circumstances of India, made us conjecture that the natives of the Coromandel coast were also in insurrection against the English. However, we learned afterwards that the musketry and salvoes proceeded from the troops stationed near the drilling-ground, who were receiving their general on his return from parade with a salute. The following day (Sunday, the 31st January, 1858) the European community of Madras fell into a precisely similar error in consequence of our salute, which they, being at that hour assembled at worship, mistook for a much less peaceful and agreeable intimation, so that the majority, dreading an outbreak, hurried to their houses in deep anxiety.

MASULI BOAT AT MADRAS.

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VIEW OF MADRAS (AND PROPOSED PIER).