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.

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.

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.

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]

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.

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]

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.