_Emblica officinalis_, and these only below an altitude of 4000 feet;
above this, the lemon-grass is superseded by harder and more wiry
species; but the earth is still the same, a mixture of decomposed quartz
largely impregnated with oxide of iron, but wanting the phosphates and
other salts which are essential to highly organised vegetation.[2] The
extent of the patena land is enormous in Ceylon, amounting to millions
of acres; and it is to be hoped that the complaints which have hitherto
been made by the experimental cultivators of coffee in the Kandyan
provinces may hereafter prove exaggerated, and that much that has been
attributed to the poverty of the soil may eventually be traced to
deficiency of skill on the part of the early planters.

[Footnote 1: Since the above was written, attempts have been made,
chiefly by natives to plant coffee on patena land. The result is a
conviction that the cultivation is practicable, by the use of manures
from the beginning; whereas forest land is capable, for three or four
years at least, of yielding coffee without any artificial enrichment of
the soil.]

[Footnote 2: HUMBOLDT is disposed to ascribe the absence of trees in the
vast grassy plains of South America, to "the destructive custom of
setting fire to the woods, when the natives want to convert the soil
into pasture: when during the lapse of centuries grasses and plants have
covered the surface with a carpet, the seeds of trees can no longer
germinate and fix themselves in the earth, although birds and winds
carry them continually from the distant forests into the
Savannahs."--_Narrative_, vol. i. ch. vi. p. 242.]

The natives in the same lofty localities find no deficient returns in
the crops of rice, which they raise in the ravines and hollows, into
which the earth from above has been washed by the periodical rains; but
the cultivation of rice is so entirely dependent on the presence of
water, that no inference can be fairly drawn as to the quality of the
soil from the abundance of its harvest.

The fields on which rice is grown in these mountains form one of the
most picturesque and beautiful objects in the country of the Kandyans.
Selecting an angular recess where two hills converge, they construct a
series of terraces, raised stage above stage, and retiring as they
ascend along the slope of the acclivity, up which they are carried as
high as the soil extends.[1] Each terrace is furnished with a low ledge
in front, behind which the requisite depth of water is retained during
the germination of the seed, and what is superfluous is permitted to
trickle down to the one below it. In order to carry on this peculiar
cultivation the streams are led along the level of the hills, often from
a distance of many miles, with a skill and perseverance for which the
natives of these mountains have attained a great renown.

[Footnote 1: The conversion of the land into these hanging farms is
known in Ceylon as "assuedamizing," a term borrowed from the Kandyan
vernacular, in which the word "assuedamé" implies the process above
described.]

In the lowlands to the south, the soil partakes of the character of the
hills from whose detritus it is to a great extent formed. In it rice is
the chief article produced, and for its cultivation the disintegrated
laterite (_cabook_), when thoroughly irrigated, is sufficiently adapted.
The seed time in the southern section of the island is dependent on the
arrival of the rains in November and May, and hence the mountains and
the maritime districts at their base enjoy two harvests in each
year--the _Maha_, which is sown about July and August, and reaped in
December and January, the _Yalla_ which is sown in spring, and reaped
from the 15th of July to the 20th September. But owing to the different
description of seed sown in particular localites, and the extent to
which they are respectively affected by the rains, the times of sowing
and harvest vary considerably on different sides of the island.[1]

[Footnote 1: The reaping of other descriptions of grain besides rice
occurs at various periods of the year according to the locality.]

In the north, where the influence of the monsoons is felt with less
force and regularity, and where, to counteract their uncertainty, the
rain is collected in reservoirs, a wider discretion is left to the
husbandman in the choice of season for his operations.[1] Two crops of
grain, however, are the utmost that is taken from the land, and in many
instances only one. The soil near the coast is light and sandy, but in
the great central districts of Neuera-kalawa and the Wanny, there is
found in the midst of the forests a dark vegetable mould, in which in
former times rice was abundantly grown by the aid of those prodigious
artificial works for irrigation which still form one of the wonders of
the island. Many of the tanks, though partially in ruins, cover an area
from ten to fifteen miles in circumference. They are now generally
broken and decayed; the waters which would fertilise a province are
allowed to waste themselves in the sands, and hundreds of square miles
capable of furnishing food for all the inhabitants of Ceylon are
abandoned to solitude and malaria, whilst rice for the support of the
non-agricultural population is annually imported from the opposite coast
of India.

[Footnote 1: This peculiarity of the north of Ceylon was noticed by the
Chinese traveller FA HIAN, who visited the island in the fourth century,
and says of the country around Anarajapoora: "L'ensemencement des champs
est suivant la volonté des gens; il n'y a point de temps pour
cela."--_Fo[)e] Kou[)e] Ki_; p. 332.]

_Talawas_.--In these districts of the lowlands, especially on the
eastern coast of the island, and in the country watered by the
Mahawelli-ganga and the other great rivers which flow towards the Bay of
Bengal and the magnificent estuary of Trincomalie, there are open glades
which diversify the forest scenery somewhat resembling the grassy
patenas in the hills, but differing from them in the character of their
soil and vegetation. These park-like meadows, or, as the natives call
them, "talawas," vary in extent from one to a thousand acres. They are
belted by the surrounding woods, and studded with groups of timber and
sometimes with single trees of majestic dimensions. Through these
pastures the deer troop in herds within gunshot, bounding into the
nearest cover when disturbed.

Lower still and immediately adjoining the sea-coast, the broken forest
gives place to brushwood, with here and there an assemblage of dwarf
shrubs; but as far as the eye can reach, there is one vast level of
impenetrable jungle, broken only by the long sweep of salt marshes which
form lakes in the rainy season, but are dry between the monsoons, and
crusted with crystals that glitter like snow in the sunshine.

On the western side of the island the rivers have formed broad alluvial
plains, in which the Dutch attempted to grow sugar. The experiment has
been often resumed since; but even here the soil is so defective, that
the cost of artificially enriching it has hitherto been a serious
obstruction to success commercially, although in one or two instances,
plantations on a small scale have succeeded to a certain extent.

METALS.--The plutonic rocks of Ceylon are but slightly metalliferous,
and hitherto their veins and deposits have been but imperfectly
examined. The first successful survey attempted by the Government was
undertaken during the administration of Viscount Torrington, who, in
1847, commissioned Dr. Gygax to proceed to the hill district south of
Adam's Peak, and furnish a report on its products. His investigations
extended from Ratnapoora, in a south-eastward direction, to the
mountains which overhang Bintenne, but the results obtained did not
greatly enlarge the knowledge previously possessed. He established the
existence of _tin_ in the alluvium along the base of the mountains to
the eastward towards Edelgashena; but so circumstanced, owing to the
flow of the Walleway river, that, without lowering its level, the metal
could not be extracted with advantage. The position in which it occurs
is similar to that in which tin ore presents itself in Saxony; and along
with it, the natives, when searching for gems, discover garnets,
corundum, white topazes, zircon, and tourmaline.

_Gold_ is found in minute particles at Gettyhedra, and in the beds of
the Maha Oya and other rivers flowing towards the west.[1] But the
quantity hitherto discovered has been too trivial to reward the search.
The early inhabitants of the island were not ignorant of its presence;
but its occurrence on a memorable occasion, as well as that of silver
and copper, is recorded in the Mahawanso as a miraculous manifestation,
which signalised the founding of one of the most renowned shrines at the
ancient capital.[2]

[Footnote 1: Ruanwellé, a fort about forty miles distant from Colombo,
derives its name from the sands of the river which flows below
it,--rang-welle, "golden sand." "Rang-galla," in the central province,
is referable to the same root--the rock of gold.]

[Footnote 2: _Mahawanso,_ ch. xxiii. p. 166, 167.]

_Nickel_ and _cobalt_ appear in small quantities in Saffragam, and the
latter, together with _rutile_ (an oxide of titanium) and _wolfram_,
might find a market in China for the colouring of porcelain.[1]
_Tellurium_, another rare and valuable metal, hitherto found only in
Transylvania and the Ural, has likewise been discovered in these
mountains, _Manganese_ is abundant, and _Iron_ occurs in the form of
magnetic iron ore, titanite, chromate, yellow hydrated, per-oxide and
iron pyrites. In most of these, however, the metal is scanty, and the
ores of little comparative value, except for the extraction of manganese
and chrome. "But there is another description of iron ore," says Dr.
Gygax, in his official report to the Ceylon Government, "which is found
in vast abundance, brown and compact, generally in the state of
carbonate, though still blended with a little chrome, and often
molybdena. It occurs in large masses and veins, one of which extends for
a distance of fifteen miles; from it millions of tons might be smelted,
and when found adjacent to fuel and water-carriage, it might be worked
to a profit. The quality of the iron ore found in Ceylon is singularly
fine; it is easily smelted, and so pure when reduced as to resemble
silver. The rough ore produces from _thirty_ to _seventy-five_ per
cent., and on an average fully _fifty_. The iron wrought from it
requires no puddling, and, converted into steel, it cuts like a diamond.
The metal could be laid down in Colombo at £6 per ton, even supposing
the ore to be brought thither for smelting, and prepared with English
coal; but _anthracite_ being found upon the spot, it could be used in
the proportion of three to one of the British coal; and the cost
correspondingly reduced."

[Footnote 1: The _Asiatic Annual Register_ for 1799 contains the
following:--

"_Extract from a letter from Colombo, dated 26th Oct. 1798_.

"A discovery has been lately made here of a very rich mine of
_quicksilver,_ about six miles from this place. The appearances are very
promising, for a handful of the earth on the surface will, by being
washed, produce the value of a rupee. A guard is set over it, and
accounts sent express to the Madras Government."--P. 53. See also
PERCIVAL'S _Ceylon_, p. 539.

JOINVILLE, in a MS, essay on _The Geology of Ceylon_, now in the library
of the East India Company, says that near Trincomalie there is "un sable
noir, composé de détriments de trappe et de cristaux de fer, _dans
lequel on trouve par le lavage beaucoup de mercure_."]

Remains of ancient furnaces are met with in all directions precisely
similar to those still in use amongst the natives. The Singhalese obtain
the ore they require without the trouble of mining; seeking a spot where
the soil has been loosened by the latest rains, they break off a
sufficient quantity, which, in less than three hours, they convert into
iron by the simplest possible means. None of their furnaces are capable
of smelting more than twenty pounds of ore, and yet this quantity yields
from seven to ten pounds of good metal.

The _anthracite_ alluded to by Dr. Gygax is found in the southern range
of hills near Nambepane, in close proximity to rich veins of _plumbago_,
which are largely worked in the same district, and the quantity of the
latter annually exported from Ceylon exceeds a thousand tons.
_Molybdena_ is found in profusion dispersed through many rocks in
Saffragam, and it occurs in the alluvium in grey scales, so nearly
resembling plumbago as to be commonly mistaken for it. _Kaolin_, called
by the natives _Kirimattie_, appears at Neuera-ellia at Hewahette,
Kaduganawa, and in many of the higher ranges as well as in the low
country near Colombo; its colour is so clear as to suit for the
manufacture of porcelain[1]; but the difficulty and cost of carriage
render it as yet unavailing for commerce, and the only use to which it
has hitherto been applied is to serve for whitewash instead of lime.

[Footnote 1: The kaolin of Ceylon, according to an analysis in 1847,
consists of--

  Pure kaolin               70.0
  Silica                    26.0
  Molybdena and iron oxide   4.0
                            ____
                           100.0

In the _Ming-she_, or history of the Ming dynasty, A.D. 1368-1643, by
Chan-ting-yuh, "pottery-stone" is; enumerated among the imports into
China from Ceylon.--B. cccxxvi. p. 5.]

_Nitre_ has long been known to exist in Ceylon, where the localities in
which it occurs are similar to those in Brazil. In Saffragam alone there
are upwards of sixty caverns known to the natives, from which it may be
extracted, and others exist in various parts of the island, where the
abundance of wood to assist in its lixiviation would render that process
easy and profitable. Yet so sparingly has this been hitherto attempted,
that even for purposes of refrigeration, crude saltpetre is still
imported from India.[1]

[Footnote 1: The mineralogy of Ceylon has hitherto undergone no
scientific scrutiny, nor have its mineral productions been arranged in
any systematic and comprehensive catalogue. Specimens are to be found in
abundance in the hands of native dealers; but from indifference or
caution they express their inability to afford adequate information as
to their locality, their geological position, or even to show with
sufficient certainty that they belong to the island. Dr. Gygax, as the
results of some years spent in exploring different districts previous to
1847, was enabled to furnish a list of but thirty-seven species, the
site of which he had determined by personal inspection. These were:--

   1. Rock crystal            Abundant.
   2. Iron quartz             Saffragam.
   3. Common quartz           Abundant.
   4. Amethyst                Galle Back, Caltura.
   5. Garnet                  Abundant.
   6. Cinnamon stone          Belligam.
   7. Harmotome               St. Lucia, Colombo.
   8. Hornblende              Abundant.
   9. Hypersthene                 Ditto.
  10. Common corundum         Badulla.
  11. Ruby                        Ditto and Saffragam.
  12. Chrysoberyl             Ratganga, North Saffragam.
  13. Pleonaste               Badulla.
  14. Zircon                  Wallawey-ganga, Saffragam.
  15. Mica                    Abundant.
  16. Adular                  Patna Hills, North-east.
  17. Common felspar          Abundant.
  18. Green felspar           Kandy.
  19. Albite                  Melly Matté.
  20. Chlorite                Kandy.
  21. Pinite                  Patna Hills.
  22. Black tourmaline        Neuera-ellia.
  23. Calespar                Abundant.
  24. Bitterspar                  Ditto.
  25. Apatite                 Galle Back.
  26. Fluorspar                   Ditto.
  27. Chiastolite             Mount Lavinia.
  28. Iron pyrites            Peradenia.
  29. Magnetic iron pyrites       Ditto, Rajawelle.
  30. Brown iron ore          Abundant.
  31. Spathose iron ore       Galle Back.
  32. Manganese               Saffragam.
  33. Molybden glance         Abundant.
  34. Tin ore                 Saffragam.
  35. Arseniate of nickel         Ditto.
  36. Plumbago                Morowa Corle.
  37. Epistilbite             St. Lucia.]

GEMS.--But the chief interest which attaches to the mountains and rocks
of this region, arises from the fact that they contain those mines of
_precious stones_ which from time immemorial have conferred renown on
Ceylon. The ancients celebrated the gems as well as the pearls of
"Taprobane;" the tales of mariners returning from their eastern
expeditions supplied to the story-tellers of the Arabian Nights their
fables of the jewels of "Serendib;" and the travellers of the Middle
Ages, on returning to Europe, told of the "sapphires, topazes,
amethysts, garnets, and other costly stones" of Ceylon, and of the ruby
which belonged to the king of the island, "a span in length, without a
flaw, and brilliant beyond description."[1]

[Footnote 1: _Travels of_ MARCO POLO, _a Venetian, in the Thirteenth
Century_, Lond. 1818.]

The extent to which gems are still found is sufficient to account for
the early traditions of their splendour and profusion; and fabulous as
this story of the ruby of the Kandyan kings may be, the abundance of
gems in Saffragam has given to the capital of the district the name of
_Ratnapoora_, which means literally "the city of rubies."[1] They are
not, however, confined to this quarter alone, but quantities are still
found on the western plains between Adam's Peak and the sea, at
Neuera-ellia, in Oovah, at Kandy, at Mattelle in the central province,
and at Ruanwelli near Colombo, at Matura, and in the beds of the rivers
eastwards towards the ancient Mahagam.

[Footnote 1: In the vicinity of Ratnapoora there are to be obtained
masses of quartz of the most delicate rose colour. Some pieces, which
were brought to me in Colombo, were of extraordinary beauty; and I have
reason to believe that it can be obtained in pieces large enough to be
used as slabs for tables, or formed into vases and columns, I may
observe that similar pieces are to be found in the south of Ireland,
near Cork.]

But the localities which chiefly supply the Ceylon gems are the alluvial
plains at the foot of the stupendous hills of Saffragam, in which the
detritus of the rocks has been carried down and intercepted by the
slight elevations that rise at some distance from the base of the
mountains. The most remarkable of these gem-bearing deposits is in the
flat country around Ballangodde, south-east of Ratnapoora; but almost
every valley in communication with the rocks of the higher ranges
contains stones of more or less value, and the beds of the rivers
flowing southward from the mountain chain are so rich in comminuted
fragments of rubies, sapphires, and garnets[1], that their sands in some
places are used by lapidaries in polishing the softer stones, and in
sawing the elephants' grinders into plates. The cook of a government
officer at Galle recently brought to him a ruby about the size of a
small pea, which he had taken from the crop of a fowl.

[Footnote 1: Mr. BAKER, in a work entitled _The Rifle and the Hound in
Ceylon_, thus describes the sands of the Manic Ganga, near the ruins of
Mahagam, in the south-eastern extremity of the island:--"The sand was
composed of mica, quartz, sapphire, ruby, and jacinth; but the large
proportion of ruby sand was so extraordinary that it seemed to rival
Sinbad's story of the vale of gems. The whole of this was valueless, but
the appearance of the sand was very inviting, as the shallow stream in
rippling over it magnified the tiny gems into stones of some magnitude.
I passed an hour in vainly searching for a ruby worth collecting, but
the largest did not exceed the size of a mustard seed."--BAKER'S _Rifle
and Hound in Ceylon_, p. 181.]

Of late years considerable energy has been shown by those engaged in the
search for gems; neglected districts have been explored, and new fields
have been opened up at such places as Karangodde and Weraloopa, whence
stones have been taken of unusual size and value.

It is not, however, in the recent strata of gravel, nor in those now in
process of formation, that the natives search for gems. They penetrate
these to the depth of from ten to twenty feet, in order to reach a lower
deposit distinguished by the name of _Nellan_, in which the objects of
their search are found. This is of so early a formation that it
underlies the present beds of rivers, and is generally separated from
them or from the superincumbent gravel by a hard crust (called _Kadua_),
a few inches in thickness, and so consolidated as to have somewhat the
appearance of laterite, or of sun-burnt brick. The nellan is for the
most part horizontal, but occasionally it is raised into an incline as
it approaches the base of the hills. It appears to have been deposited
previous to the eruption of the basalt, on which in some places it
reclines, and to have undergone some alteration from the contact. It
consists of water-worn pebbles firmly imbedded in clay, and occasionally
there occur large lumps of granite and gneiss, in the hollows under
which, as well as in "pockets" in the clay (which from their shape the
natives denominate "elephants' footsteps") gems are frequently found in
groups as if washed in by the current.

The persons who devote themselves to this uncertain pursuit are chiefly
Singhalese, and the season selected by them for "gemming" is between
December and March, when the waters are low.[1] The poorer and least
enterprising adventurers betake themselves to the beds of streams, but
the most certain though the most costly course is to sink pits in the
adjacent plains, which are consequently indented with such traces of
recent explorers. The upper gravel is pierced, the covering crust is
reached and broken through, and the nellan being shovelled into conical
baskets and washed to free it from the sand, the residue is carefully
searched for whatever rounded crystals and minute gems it may contain.

[Footnote 1: A very interesting account of _Gems and Gem Searching_, by
Mr. WM. STEWART, appeared in the _Colombo Observer_ for June, 1855.]

It is strongly characteristic of the want of energy in the Singhalese,
that although for centuries those alluvial plains and watercourses have
been searched without ceasing, no attempt appears to have been made to
explore the rocks themselves, in the debris of which the gems have been
brought down by the rivers. Dr. Gygax says: "I found at Hima Pohura, on
the south-eastern decline of the Pettigalle-Kanda, about the middle of
the descent, a stratum of grey granite containing, with iron pyrites and
molybdena, innumerable rubies from one-tenth to a fourth of an inch in
diameter, and of a fine rose colour, but split and falling to powder. It
is not an isolated bed of minerals, but a regular stratum extending
probably to the same depth and distance as the other granite formations.
I followed it as far as was practicable for close examination, but
everywhere in the lower part of the valley I found it so decomposed that
the hammer sunk in the rock, and even bamboos were growing on it. On the
higher ground near some small round hills which intercept it, I found
the rubies changed into brown corundum. Upon the hills themselves the
trace was lost, and instead of a stratum there was merely a wild chaos
of blocks of yellow granite. I carefully examined all the minerals which
this stratum contains,--felspar, mica, and quartz molybdena, and iron
pyrites,--and I found all similar to those I had previously got adhering
to rough rubies offered for sale at Colombo. _I firmly believe that in
such strata the rubies of Ceylon are originally found_, and that those
in the white and blue clay at Ballangodde and Ratnapoora are but
secondary deposits. I am further inclined to believe that these extend
over the whole island, although often intercepted and changed in their
direction by the rising of the yellow granite." It is highly probable
that the finest rubies are to be found in them, perfect and unchanged by
decomposition; and that they are to be obtained by opening a regular
mine in the rock like the ruby mine of Badakshan in Bactria described by
Sir Alexander Burnes. Dr. Gygax adds that having often received the
minerals of this stratum with the crystals perfect, he has reason to
believe that places are known to the natives where such mines might be
opened with confidence of success.

Rubies both crystalline and amorphous are also found in a particular
stratum of dolomite at Bullatotte and Badulla, in which there is a
peculiar copper-coloured mica with metallic lustre. _Star rubies_, the
"asteria" of Pliny (so called from their containing a movable six-rayed
star), are to be had at Ratnapoora and for very trifling sums. The blue
tinge which detracts from the value of the pure ruby, whose colour
should resemble "pigeon's blood," is removed by the Singhalese, by
enveloping the stone in the lime of a calcined shell and exposing it to
a high heat. _Spinel_ of extremely beautiful colours is found in the bed
of the Mahawelli-ganga at Kandy, and from the locality it has obtained
the name of _Candite_.

It is strange that although the _sapphire_ is found in all this region
in greater quantity than the ruby, it has never yet been discovered in
the original matrix, and the small fragments which sometimes occur in
dolomite show that there it is but a deposit. From its exquisite colour
and the size in which it is commonly found, it forms by far the most
valuable gem of the island. A piece which was dug out of the alluvium
within a few miles of Ratnapoora in 1853, was purchased by a Moor at
Colombo, in whose hands it was valued at upwards of four thousand
pounds.

The original site of the _oriental topaz_ is equally unknown with that
of the sapphire. The Singhalese rightly believe them to be the same
stone only differing in colour, and crystals are said to be obtained
with one portion yellow and the other blue.

_Garnets_ of inferior quality are common in the gneiss, but finer ones
are found in the hornblende rocks.

_Cinnamon-stone_ (which is properly a variety of garnet) is so extremely
abundant, that vast rocks containing it in profusion exist in many
places, especially in the alluvium around Matura; and at Belligam, a few
miles east from Point-de-Galle, a vast detached rock is so largely
composed of cinnamon-stones that it is carried off in lumps for the
purpose of extracting and polishing them.

The _Cat's-eye_ is one of the jewels of which the Singhalese are
especially proud, from a belief that it is only found in their island;
but in this I apprehend they are misinformed, as specimens of equal
merit have been brought from Quilon and Cochin on the southern coast of
Hindostan. The cat's-eye is a greenish translucent quartz, and when cut
_en cabochon_ it presents a moving internal reflection which is ascribed
to the presence of filaments of asbestos. Its perfection is estimated by
the natives in proportion to the narrowness and sharpness of the ray and
the pure olive-tint of the ground over which it plays.

_Amethysts_ are found in the gneiss, and some discoloured though
beautiful specimens in syenite; they are too common to be highly
esteemed. The "Matura Diamonds," which are largely used by the native
jewellers, consist of zircon, found in the syenite not only uncoloured,
but also of pink and yellow tints, the former passing for rubies.

But one of the prettiest though commonest gems in the island is the
"Moon-stone," a variety of pearly adularia presenting chatoyant rays
when simply polished. They are so abundant that the finest specimens may
be bought for a few shillings. These, with _aqua marina_, a bad
description of _opal rock crystal_ in extremely large pieces,
_tourmaline_, and a number of others of no great value, compose the list
of native gems procurable in Ceylon.[1] Diamonds, emeralds, agates,
carnelians, opal and turquoise, when they are exhibited by the natives,
have all been imported from India.

[Footnote 1: Caswini and some of the Arabian geographers assert that the
diamond is found at Adam's Peak; but this is improbable, as there is no
formation resembling the _cascalhao_ of Brazil or the diamond
conglomerate of Golconda. If diamonds were offered for sale in Ceylon,
in the time of the Arab navigators, they must have been brought thither
from India, (_Journ. As. Soc. Beng._ xiii. 633.)]

During the dynasty of the Kandyan sovereigns, the right of digging for
gems was a royalty reserved jealously for the King; and the inhabitants
of particular villages were employed in their search under the
superintendence of hereditary officers, with the rank of "Mudianse." By
the British Government the monopoly was early abolished as a source of
revenue, and no license is now required by the jewel-hunters.

Great numbers of persons of the worst-regulated habits are constantly
engaged in this exciting and precarious trade; and serious
demoralisation is engendered amongst the villagers by the idle and
dissolute adventurers who resort to Saffragam. Systematic industry
suffers, and the cultivation of the land is frequently neglected whilst
its owners are absorbed in these speculative and tantalising
occupations.

The products of their searches are disposed of to the Moors, who resort
to Saffragam from the low country, carrying up cloth and salt, to be
exchanged for gems and coffee. At the annual Buddhist festival of the
Pera-hara, a jewel-fair is held at Ratnapoora, to which the purchasers
resort from all parts of Ceylon. Of late years, however, the condition
of the people in Saffragam has so much improved that it has become
difficult to obtain the finest jewels, the wealthier natives preferring
to retain them as investments: they part with them reluctantly, and only
for gold, which they find equally convenient for concealment.[1]

[Footnote 1: So eager is the appetite for hoarding in these hills, that
eleven rupees (equal to twenty-two shillings) have frequently been given
for a sovereign.]

The lapidaries who cut and polish the stones are chiefly Moors, but
their tools are so primitive, and their skill so deficient, that a gem
generally loses in value by having passed through their hands. The
inferior kinds, such as cinnamon-stones, garnets, and tourmaline, are
polished by ordinary artists at Kandy, Matura, and Galle; but the more
expert lapidaries, who cut rubies and sapphires, reside chiefly at
Caltura and Colombo.

As a general rule, the rarer gems are less costly in Europe than in
Colombo. In London and Paris the quantities brought from all parts of
the world are sufficient to establish something like a market value;
but, in Ceylon, the supply is so uncertain that the price is always
regulated at the moment by the rank and wealth of the purchaser. Strange
to say, too, there is often an unwillingness even amongst the Moorish
dealers to sell the rarest and finest specimens; those who are wealthy
being anxious to retain them, and few but stones of secondary value are
offered for sale. Besides, the Rajahs and native Princes of India,
amongst whom the passion for jewels is universal, are known to give such
extravagant prices that the best are always sent to them from Ceylon.

From the Custom House returns it is impossible to form any calculation
as to the value of the precious stones exported from the island. A
portion only appears, even of those sent to England, the remainder being
carried away by private parties. Of the total number found, one-fourth
is probably purchased by the natives themselves, more than one-half is
sent to the Continent of India, and the remainder represents the export
to Europe. Computed in this way, the quantity of precious stones found
in the island may be estimated at 10,000_l_. per annum.

RIVERS.--From the mountainous configuration of the country and the
abundance of the rains, the rivers are large and numerous in the south
of the island--ten of considerable magnitude flowing into the sea on the
west coast, between Point-de-Galle and Manaar, and a still greater
number, though inferior in volume, on the east. In the low country,
where the heat is intense and evaporation proportionate, they derive
little of their supply from springs; and the passing showers which fall
scarcely more than replace the moisture drawn by the sun from the
parched and thirsty soil.

Hence in the plains there are comparatively few rivulets or running
streams; the rivers there flow in almost solitary lines to the sea; and
the beds of their minor affluents serve only to conduct to them the
torrents which descend at the change of each monsoon, their channels at
other times being exhausted and dry. But in their course through the
hills, and the broken ground at their base, they are supplied by
numerous feeders, which convey to them the frequent showers that fall in
high altitudes. Hence their tracks are through some of the noblest
scenery in the world; rushing through ravines and glens, and falling
over precipitous rocks in the depths of wooded valleys, they exhibit a
succession of rapids, cataracts, and torrents, unsurpassed in
magnificence and beauty. On reaching the plains, the boldness of their
march and the graceful outline of their sweep are indicative of the
little obstruction opposed by the sandy and porous soil through which
they flow. Throughout their entire course dense forests shade their
banks, and, as they approach the sea, tamarisks and over-arching
mangroves mark where their waters mingle with the tide.

Of all the Ceylon rivers, the most important by far is the
Mahawelli-ganga--the Ganges of Ptolemy--which, rising in the south near
Adam's Peak, traverses more than one-third of the mountain zone[1],
drains upwards of four thousand square miles, and flows into the sea by
a number of branches, near the noble harbour of Trincomalie. The
following table gives a comparative view of the magnitude of the rivers
that rise in the hills, and of the extent of the low country traversed
by each of them:--

                                    Square Miles Square Miles   Length of
                  Embouchure.       drained in   drained in the Course of
                                    Mountain     low Country,   the main
                                    Zone.        about          Stream.

Mahawelii-ganga  near Trincomalie      1782          2300          134
Kirinde          at Mahagan              34           300           62
Wellawey         near Hambangtotte      263           500           69
Neivalle         at Matura               64           200           42
(Three Rivers)   near Tangalle           56           200
Gindura          near Galle             180           200           59
Kalu-oya         at Caltura             841           300           72
Kalany           Colombo                692           200           84
The Kaymel or
  Mahaoya        near Negombo           253           200           68
Dederoo-oya      near Chilaw             38           700           70
                                   ----------------------------
                                       4212          5100

[Footnote 1: See _ante_, p. 12, for a definition of what constitutes the
"mountain zone" of Ceylon.]

In addition to these, there are a number of large rivers which belong
entirely to the plains in the northern and south-eastern portions of the
island, the principal of which are the Arive and the Moderegam, which
flow into the Gulf of Manaar; the Kala-oya and the Kanda-lady, which
empty themselves into the Bay of Calpentyn; the Maniek or Kattragam, and
the Koombookgam, opposite to the Little Bass rocks and the Naveloor, the
Chadawak, and Arookgam, south of Batticaloa. The extent of country
drained by these latter streams is little short of thirteen thousand
square miles.

Very few of the rivers of Ceylon are navigable, and these only by canoes
and flat-bottomed paddy boats, which ascend some of the largest for
short distances, till impeded by the rapids, occasioned by rocks in the
lowest range of the hills. In this way the Niwalle at Matura can be
ascended for about fifteen miles, as far as Wellehara; the Kalu-ganga
can be traversed from Caltura to Ratnapoora; the Bentotte river for
sixteen miles to Pittagalla; and the Kalany from Colombo to the foot of
the mountains near Ambogammoa. The Mahawelli-ganga is navigable from
Trincomalie to within a short distance of Kanda[1]; and many of the
lesser streams, the Kirinde and Wellawey in the south, and the Kaymel,
the Dedroo-oya, and the Aripo river on the west of the island, are used
for short distances by boats.

[Footnote 1: For an account of the capabilities of the Mahawelli-ganga,
as regards navigation, see BROOKE'S _Report, Roy. Geog. Journ._ vol.
iii. p. 223. and _post_, Vol. II. p. 423.]

All these streams are liable, during the fury of the monsoons, to be
surcharged with rain till they overflow their banks, and spread in wide
inundations over the level country. On the subsidence of these waters,
the intense heat of the sun acting on the surface they leave deserted,
produces a noxious and fatal malaria. Hence the rivers of Ceylon present
the curious anomaly, that whilst the tanks and reservoirs of the
interior diffuse a healthful coolness around, the running water of the
rivers is prolific of fevers; and in some seasons so deadly is the
pestilence that the Malabar coolies, as well as the native peasantry,
betake themselves to precipitate flight.[1]

[Footnote 1: It has been remarked along the Mahawelli-ganga, a few miles
from Kandy, that during the deadly season, after the subsidence of the
rains, the jungle fever generally attacks one face of the hills through
which it winds, leading the opposite side entirely exempted, as if the
poisonous vapour, being carried by the current of air, affected only
those aspects against which it directly impinged.]

Few of the larger rivers have been bridged, except those which intersect
the great high roads from Point-de-Galle to Colombo, and thence to
Kandy. Near the sea this has been effected by timber platforms,
sustained by piles sufficiently strong to withstand the force of the
floods at the change of each monsoon. A bridge of boats connects each
side of the Kalany, and on reaching the Mahawelli-ganga at Peradenia,
one of the most picturesque structures on the island is a noble bridge
of a single arch, 205 feet in span, chiefly constructed of satin-wood,
and thrown across the river by General Fraser in 1832.

On reaching the margin of the sea, an appearance is presented by the
outline of the coast, near the embouchures of the principal rivers,
which is very remarkable. It is common to both sides of the island,
though it has attained its greatest development on the east. In order to
comprehend its formation, it is necessary to observe that Ceylon lies in
the course of the ocean currents in the Bay of Bengal, which run north
or south according to the prevalence of the monsoon, and with greater or
less velocity in proportion to its force at particular periods.

[Illustration: CURRENT IN THE NE MONSOON.]

In the beginning and during the strength of the northeast monsoon the
current sets strongly along the coast of Coromandel to the southward, a
portion of it frequently entering Palks Bay to the north of Ceylon; but
the main stream keeping invariably to the east of the island, runs with
a velocity of from one and a half to two miles an hour, and after
passing the Great Bass, it keeps its course seaward. At other times,
after the monsoon has spent its violence, the current is weak, and
follows the line of the land to the westward as far as Point-de-Galle,
or even to Colombo.

[Illustration: CURRENT IN THE S.W. MONSOON]

In the south-west monsoon the current changes its direction; and,
although it flows steadily to the northward, its action is very
irregular and unequal till it readies the Coromandel coast, after
passing Ceylon. This is accounted for by the obstruction opposed by the
headlands of Ceylon, which so intercept the stream that the current,
which might otherwise set into the Gulf of Manaar, takes a
south-easterly direction by Galle and Donedra Head.[1]

[Footnote 1: For an account of the currents of Ceylon, see HORSBURGH's
_Directions for Sailing to and from the East Indies, &c._; vol i. p.
516, 536, 580; KEITH JOHNSTON's _Physical Atlas_, plate xiii. p. 50.]

There being no lakes in Ceylon[1], in the still waters of which the
rivers might clear themselves of the earthy matter swept along in their
rapid course from the hills, they arrive at the beach laden with sand
and alluvium, and at their junction with the ocean being met
transversely by the gulf-streams, the sand and soil with which they are
laden, instead of being carried out to sea, are heaped up in bars along
the shores, and these, being augmented by similar deposits held in
suspension by the currents, soon extend to north, and south, and force
the rivers to flow behind them in search of a new outlet.

[Footnote 1: Pliny alludes to a lake in Ceylon of vast dimensions, but
it is clear that his informants must have spoken of one of the huge
tanks for the purpose of irrigation. Some of the _Mappe-mondes_ of the
Middle Ages place a lake in the middle of the island, with a city
inhabited by astrologers; but they have merely reproduced the error of
earlier geographers. (SANTAREM, _Cosmog_. tom. iii. p. 336.)]

These formations once commenced, their growth proceeds with rapidity,
more especially on the east side of the island; as the southern current
in skirting the Coromandel coast brings with it quantities of sand,
which it deposits, in tranquil weather, and this being carried by the
wind is piled in heaps from Point Pedro to Hambangtotte. Hence at the
latter point hills are formed of such height and dimensions, that it is
often necessary to remove buildings out of their line of
encroachment.[1]

[Footnote 1: This is occasioned by the waste of the banks further north
during the violence of the N. E. monsoon; and the sand, being carried
south by the current, is intercepted by the headland at Hambangtotte and
thrown up these hills as described.]

[Illustration: "GOBBS" ON THE EAST COAST]

At the mouths of the rivers the bars thus created generally follow the
direction of the current, and the material deposited being dried and
partially consolidated in the intervals between the tides, long
embankments are gradually raised, behind which the rivers flow for
considerable distances before entering the sea. Occasionally these
embouchures become closed by the accumulations without, and the pent-up
water assumes the appearance of a still canal, more or less broad
according to the level of the beach, and extending for miles along the
coast, between the mainland and the new formations. But when swollen by
the rains, if not assisted by artificial outlets to escape, they burst
new openings for themselves, and not unfrequently they leave their
ancient channels converted into shallow lagoons without any visible
exit. Examples of these formations present themselves on the east side
of Ceylon at Nilla-velle, Batticaloa, and a number of other places north
and south of Trincomalie.

On the west coast embankments of this kind, although frequent are less
conspicuous than on the east, owing chiefly to the comparative weakness
of the current. For six months in the year during the north-east monsoon
that side of the island is exempt from a current in any direction, and
for the remaining six, the current from the south not only rarely
affects the Gulf of Manaar, but as it flows out of the Indian Ocean it
brings no earthy deposits. In addition to this, the surf during the
south-west monsoon rolls with such turbulence on the level beach between
Colombo and Point-de-Galle, as in a great degree to disperse the
accumulations of sand brought down by the rivers, or heaped up by the
tide, when the wind is off the land. Still, many of the rivers are
thrown back by embankments, and after forming tortuous lakes flow for a
long distance parallel to the shore, before finding an escape for their
waters. Examples of this occur at Pantura, to the south of Colombo, and
at Negombo, Chilaw, and elsewhere to the north of it.

[Illustration: GOBBS ON THE WEST COAST]

In process of time these banks of sand[1] become covered with
vegetation; herbaceous plants, shrubs, and finally trees peculiar to
saline soils make their appearance in succession, and as these decay,
their decomposition generates a sufficiency of soil to sustain continued
vegetation.

[Footnote 1: In the voyages of _The Two Mahometans_, the unique MS. of
which dates about A.D. 851, and is now in the Bibliothèque Royale at
Paris, Abon-zeyd, one of its authors, describes the "Gobbs" of Ceylon--a
word, he says, by which the natives designate the valleys deep and broad
which open to the sea. "En face de cette íle y a de vastes _Gobb_, mot
par lequel on désigne une vallée, quand elle est à la fois longue et
large, et qu'elle débouche dans la mer. Les navigateurs emploient, pour
traverser le _gobb_ appelé 'Gobb de Serendib,' deux mois et même
davantage, passant à travers des bois et des jardins, au milieu d'une
température moyenne."--REINAUD, _Voyages faits par les Arabes_, vol. i.
p. 129.

 A misapprehension of this passage has been admitted into the English
version of the _Voyages of the two Mahometans_ which is published in
PINKERTON'S _Collections of Voyages and Travels_, vol. iii.; the
translator having treated gobb as a term applicable to valleys in
general. "Ceylon," he says, "contains valleys of great length, which
extend to the sea, and here travellers repair for two months or more, in
which one is called Gobb Serendib, allured by the beauty of the scenery,
chequered with groves and plains, water and meadows, and blessed by a
balmy air. The valley opens to the sea, and is transcendently
pleasant."--PINKERTON'S _Voyages_, vol. vii. p. 218.

But a passage in Edrisi, while it agrees with the terms of Abou-zeyd,
explains at the same time that these gobbs were not valleys converted
into gardens, to which the seamen resorted for pleasure to spend two or
three months, but the embouchures of rivers flowing between banks,
covered with gardens and forests, into which mariners were accustomed to
conduct their vessels for more secure navigation, and in which they were
subjected to detention for the period stated. The passage is as follows
in Jaubert's translation of Edrisi, tom. i. p. 73:--"Cette île
(Serendib) depend des terres de l'Inde; ainsi que les vallées (in orig.
aghbab) par lesquelles se dechargent les rivières, et qu'on nomme
'Vallées de Serendib.' Les navires y mouillent, et les navigateurs y
passent un mois ou deux dans l'abondance et dans les plaisirs."

It is observable that Ptolemy, in enumerating the ports and harbours of
Ceylon, maintains a distinction between the ordinary bays, [Greek:
kolpos], of which he specifies two corresponding to those of Colombo and
Trincomalie, and the shallower indentations, [Greek: limên], of which he
enumerates five, the positions of which go far to identify them with the
remarkable estuaries or _gobbs_, on the eastern and western coast
between Batticaloa and Calpentyn.

To the present day these latter gulfs are navigable for small craft. On
the eastern side of the island one of them forms the harbour of
Batticaloa, and on the western those of Chilaw and Negombo are bays of
this class. Through the latter a continuous navigation has been
completed by means of short connecting canals, and a traffic is
maintained during the south-west monsoon, from Caltura to the north of
Chilaw, a distance of upwards of eighty miles, by means of craft which
navigate these shallow channels.

These narrow passages conform in every particular to the description
given by Abou-zeyd and Edrisi: they run through a succession of woods
and gardens; and as a leading wind is indispensable for their
navigation, the period named by the Arabian geographers for their
passage is perhaps not excessive during calms or adverse winds.

An article on the meaning of the word gobb will be found in the _Journal
Asiatique_ for September, 1844; but it does not exhibit clearly the very
peculiar features of these openings. It is contained in an extract from
the work on India of ALBYROUNI, a contemporary of Avicenna, who was born
in the valley of the Indus.--"Un golfe (gobb) est comme une encoignure
et un détour que fait la mer en pénétrant dans le continens: les navires
n'y sont pas sans péril particulièrement à l'égard du flux et
reflux."--_Extrait de l'ouvrage d'_ ALBYROUNI _sur l'Inde; Fragmens
Arabes et Persans, relatifs à l'Inde, recueillés par_ M. REINAUD;
_Journ. Asiat., Septembre et Octobre_, 1844, p. 261. In the Turkish
nautical work of SIDI ALI CHELEBI, the _Mohit_, written about A.D. 1550,
which contains directions for sailors navigating the eastern seas, the
author alludes to the _gobbha's_ on the coast of Arracan; and conscious
that the term was local not likely to be understood beyond those
countries, he adds that "gobbha" means "_a gulf full of shallows,
shoals, and breakers_." See translation by VON HAMMER, _Journ. Asiat.
Soc. Beng._ v. 466.]

The process of this conversion may be seen in all its stages at various
points along the coast of Ceylon.

The margin of land nearest to the water is first taken possession of by
a series of littoral plants, which apparently require a large quantity
of salt to sustain their vegetation. These at times are intermixed with
others, which, though found further inland, yet flourish in perfection
on the shore. On the northern and north-western coasts the glass
worts[1] and salt worts[2] are the first to appear on the newly raised
banks, and being provided with penetrating roots, a breakwater is thus
early secured, and the drier sand above becomes occupied with creeping
plants which in their turn afford shelter to a third and erect class.

[Footnote 1: Salicornia Indica.]

[Footnote 2: Salsola Indica.]

The Goat's-foot Ipomoea[1], which appears to encircle the world, abounds
on these shores, covering the surface to the water's edge with its
procumbent branches, which sending down roots from every joint serve to
give the bank its first firmness, whilst the profusion of its
purple-coloured flowers contrasts strikingly with its dark green
foliage.

[Footnote 1: Ipomoea pes-capræ]

Along with the Ipomoea grow two species of beans[1] each endowed with a
peculiar facility for reproduction, thus consolidating the sands into
which they strike; and the moodu-gaeta-kola[2] (literally the "jointed
seashore plant,") with pink flowers and thick succulent leaves.

[Footnote 1: The Mooduawara (_Canavalia obtusifolia_), whose flowers
have the fragrance of the sweet pea, and _Dolichos luteus_.]

[Footnote 2: Hydrophylax maritima.]

Another plant which performs an important function in the fertilisation
of these arid formations, is the _Spinifex squarrosus_, the "water
pink," as it is sometimes called by Europeans. The seeds of this plant
are contained in a circular head, composed of a series of spine-like
divisions, which radiate from the stalk in all directions, making the
diameter of the whole about eight to nine inches. When the seeds are
mature, and ready for dispersion, these heads become detached from the
plant, and are carried by the wind with great velocity along the sands,
over the surface of which they are impelled on their elastic spines. One
of these balls may be followed by the eye for miles as it hurries along
the level shore, dropping its seeds as it rolls, which speedily
germinate and strike root where they fall. The globular heads are so
buoyant as to float lightly on the water, and the uppermost spines
acting as sails, they are thus carried across narrow estuaries to
continue the process of embanking on newly-formed sand bars. Such an
organisation irresistibly suggests the wonderful means ordained by
Providence to spread this valuable plant along the barren beach to which
no seed-devouring bird ever resorts; and even the unobservant natives,
struck by its singular utility in resisting the encroachments of the
sea, have recorded their admiration by conferring on it the name of
_Maha-Rawana roewula_,--"the great beard of Rawana or Rama."

The banks being thus ingeniously protected from the action of the air
above, and of the water at their base, other herbaceous plants soon
cover them in quick succession, and give the entire surface the first
aspect of vegetation. A little retired above high water are to be found
a species of _Aristolochia_[1], the Sayan[2], or _Choya_, the roots of
which are the Indian Madder (in which, under the Dutch Government, some
tribes in the Wanny paid their tribute); the gorgeous _Gloriosa
superba_, the beautiful _Vistnu-karandi_[3] with its profusion of blue
flowers, which remind one of the English "Forget-me-not," and the
thickly-matted verdure of the _Hiramana-doetta_[4], so well adapted for
imparting consistency to the soil. In the next stage low shrubs make
their appearance, their seeds being drifted by the waves and wind, and
taking ready root wherever they happen to rest. The foremost of these
are the Scævolas[5] and Screw Pines[6], which grow luxuriantly within
the actual wash of the tide, while behind them rises a dense growth of
peculiar plants, each distinguished by the Singhalese by the prefix of
"Moodu," to indicate its partiality for the sea.[7]

[Footnote 1: _Aristolocia bracteata_. On the sands to the north of
Ceylon there is also the _A. Indica_, which forms the food of the great
red and white butterfly (_Papilio Hector_).]

[Footnote 2: _Hedyotis umbellata_. A very curious account of the Dutch
policy In relation to Choya dye will be found in a paper _On the
Vegetable Productions of Ceylon_, by W.C. ONDAATJIE, in the _Ceylon
Calendar_ for 1853. See also BERTOLACCI, B. iii. p. 270.]

[Footnote 3: Evolvulus alsinoides.]

[Footnote 4: Lippia nodiflora.]

[Footnote 5: Scævola takkada and S. Koenigii]

[Footnote 6: Pandanus odoratissimus.]

[Footnote 7: _Moodu-kaduru (Ochrosia parviflora); Moodu-cobbe
(Ornitrophe serrata); Moodu-murunga (Sophora tomentosa_,) &c. &c.
Amongst these marine shrubs the Nil-picha (_Guettarda speciosca_), with
its white and delightfully fragrant flowers, is a conspicuous object on
some parts of the sea-shore between Colombo and Point-de-Galle.]

Where the sand in the lagoons and estuaries is more or less mingled with
the alluvium brought down by the rivers, there are plants of another
class which are equally characteristic. Amongst these the Mangroves[1]
take the first place in respect to their mass of vegetation; then follow
the Belli-patta[2] and Suriya-gaha[3], with their large hibiscus-like
flowers; the Tamarisks[4]; the Acanthus[5], with its beautiful blue
petals and holly-like leaves; the Water Coco-nut[6]; the Ægiceras and
Hernandia[7], with its sonorous fruits; while the dry sands above are
taken possession of by the Acacias, _Salvadora Persica_ (the true
mustard-tree of Scripture[8], which, here attains a height of forty
feet), Ixoras, and the numerous family of Cassias.

[Footnote 1: Two species of _Rhizophora_, two of _Bruguiera_, and one of
_Ceriops_.]

[Footnote 2: Paritimn tilliaceum.]

[Footnote 3: Thespesia populnea.]

[Footnote 4: Tamarix Indica.]

[Footnote 5: Dilivaria ilicifolia.]

[Footnote 6: Nipa fruticans.]

[Footnote 7: Hernandia sonora.]

[Footnote 8: The identification of this tree with the mustard-tree
alluded to by our Saviour is an interesting fact. The Greek term [Greek:
sinapis], which occurs Matt. xiii 31, and elsewhere, is the name given
to _mustard_; for which the Arabic equivalent is _chardul_ or _khardal_,
and the Syriac _khardalo_. The same name is applied at the present day
to a tree which grows freely in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, and
generally throughout Palestine; the seeds of which, have an aromatic
pungency, which enables them to be used instead of the ordinary mustard
(_Sinapis nigra_); besides which, its structure presents all the
essentials to sustain the illustration sought to be established in the
parable, some of which are wanting or dubious in the common plant, It
has a very small seed; it may be sown in a garden: it grows into an
"herb," and eventually "becometh a tree; so that the birds of the air
come and lodge in the branches thereof." With every allowance for the
extremest development attainable by culture, it must be felt that the
dimensions of the domestic _sinapis_ scarcely justify the last
illustration; besides which it is an annual, and cannot possibly be
classed as a "tree." The khardal grows abundantly in Syria: it was found
in Egypt by Sir Gardner Wilkinson; in Arabia by Bové; on the Indus by
Sir Alexander Burnes; and throughout the north-west of India it bears
the name of kharjal. Combining all these facts, Dr. Royle, in an erudite
paper, has shown demonstrative reasons for believing that the _Salvadora
Persica_, the "kharjal" of Hindostan, is the "khardal" of Arabia, the
"chardul" of the Talmud, and the "mustard-tree" of the parable.]

Lastly, after a sufficiency of earth has been formed by the decay of
frequent successions of their less important predecessors, the ground
becomes covered by trees of ampler magnitude, most of which are found
upon the adjacent shores of the mainland--the Margoza[1], from whose
seed the natives express a valuable oil; the Timbiri[2], with the
glutinous nuts with which the fishermen "bark" their nets; the
Cashu-nut[3]; the Palu[4], one of the most valuable timber trees of the
Northern Provinces; and the Wood-apple[5], whose fruit is regarded by
the Singhalese as a specific for dysentery.

[Footnote 1: Azadirachta Indica.]

[Footnote 2: Diospyros glutinosa.]

[Footnote 3: Anacardium occidentale.]

[Footnote 4: Mimusopa hexandra.]

[Footnote 5: Ægle marmelos.]

But the most important fact connected with these recently formed
portions of land, is their extraordinary suitability for the growth of
the coco-nut, which requires the sea-air (and in Ceylon at least appears
never to attain its full luxuriance when removed to any considerable
distance from it)[1], and which, at the same time, requires a light and
sandy soil, and the constant presence of water in large quantities. All
these essentials are combined in the sea-belts here described, lying as
they do between the ocean on the one side and the fresh-water lakes
formed by the great rivers on the other, thus presenting every requisite
of soil and surface. It is along a sand formation of this description,
about forty miles long and from one to three miles broad, that thriving
coco-nut plantations have been recently commenced at Batticaloa. At
Calpentyn, on the western coast, a like formation has been taken
advantage of for the same purpose. At Jaffna somewhat similar
peculiarities of soil and locality have been seized on for this
promising cultivation; and, generally, along the whole seaborde of
Ceylon to the south and west, the shore for the breadth of one or two
miles exhibits almost continuous groves of coco-nut palms.

[Footnote 1: Coco-nuts are cultivated at moderate elevations in the
mountain villages of the Interior; but the fruit bears no comparison, in
number, size, or weight, with that produced in the lowlands, and near
the sea, on either side of the island.]

_Harbours_.--With the exception of the estuaries above alluded to,
chiefly in the northern section of the island, the outline of the coast
is interrupted by few sinuosities. There are no extensive inlets, or
bays, and only two harbours--that of _Point-de-Galle_ which, in addition
to being incommodious and small, is obstructed by coral rocks, reefs of
which have been upreared to the surface, and render the entrance
critical to strange ships[1]; and the magnificent basin of Trincomalie,
which, in extent, security, and beauty, is unsurpassed by any haven in
the world.

[Footnote 1: Owing to the obstructions at its entrance, Galle is
extremely difficult of access in particular winds. In 1857 it was
announced in the _Colombo Examiner_ that "the fine ship the 'Black
Eagle' was blown out of Galle Roads the other day, with the pilot on
board; whilst the captain was temporarily engaged on shore; and as she
was not able to beat in again, she made for Trincomalie, where she has
been lying for a fortnight. Such an event is by no means unprecedented
at Galle."--_Examiner_, 20 Sept. 1857.]

_Tides_.--The variation of the tides is so slight that navigation is
almost unaffected by it. The ordinary rise and fall is from 18 to 24
inches, with an increase of about a third at spring tides. High water is
later on the eastern than on the western coast; occurring, on full and
new moon, a little after eleven o'clock at Adam's Bridge, about 1
o'clock at Colombo, and 1.25 at Galle, whilst it attains its greatest
elevation between 5 and 6 o'clock in the harbour of Trincomalie.

_Red infusoria_.--On both sides of the island (but most frequently at
Colombo), during the south-west monsoon, a broad expanse of the sea
assumes a red tinge, considerably brighter than brick-dust; and this is
confined to a space so distinct that a line seems to separate it from
the green water which flows on either side. Observing that the whole
area changed its position without parting with any portion of its
colouring, I had some of the water brought on shore, and, on examination
with the microscope, it proved to be filled with _infusoria_, probably
similar to those which have been noticed near the shores of South
America, and whose abundance has imparted a name to the "Vermilion Sea"
off the coast of California.

THE POPULATION OF CEYLON, of all races, was, in 1857, 1,697,975; but
this was exclusive of the military and their families, both Europeans
and Malays, which together amounted to 5,430; and also of aliens and
other casual strangers, forming about 25,000 more.

The particulars are as follow:--

|Provinces   |Whites.        |Coloured.      |Total.     |Population|
|       |Males.|Females.|Males.|Females.|Males.|Females. | to the   |
                                                         |sq. mile. |
|Western.   |1,293|1,246|293,409|259,106|294,702|260,352 |  146.59  |
|N. Western |   21|   11|100,807| 96,386|100,828| 96,397 |   59.93  |
|Southern   |  238|  241|156,900|149,649|157,138|149,890 |  143.72  |
|Eastern    |  201|  143| 39,923| 35,531| 40,124| 35,674 |   16.08  |
|Northern   |  387|  362|153,062|148,678|153,449|149,040 |   55.85  |
|Central    |  468|  204|143,472|116,237|143,940|116,441 |   52.57  |
|           |2,608|2,207|887,573|805,587|890,181|807,794 |   69.73  |

CHAP. II.

CLIMATE.--HEALTH AND DISEASE.

The climate of Ceylon, from its physical configuration and insular
detachment, contrasts favourably with that of the great Indian
peninsula. Owing to the moderate dimensions of the island, the elevation
of its mountains, the very short space during which the sun is passing
over it[1] in his regression from or approach to the solstices, and its
surrounding seas being nearly uniform in temperature, it is exempt from
the extremes of heating and cooling to which the neighbouring continent
of India is exposed. From the same causes it is subjected more uniformly
to the genial influences of the trade winds that blow over the Indian
Ocean and the Bay of Bengal.

[Footnote 1: In his approach to the northern solstice, the sun, having
passed the equator on the 21st of March, reaches the south of Ceylon
about the 5th of April, and ten days later is vertical over Point Pedro,
the northern extremity of the island. On his return he is again over
Point Pedro about the 27th of August, and passes southward over Dondera
Head about the 7th of September.]

The island is seldom visited by hurricanes[1], or swept by typhoons, and
the breeze, unlike the hot and arid winds of Coromandel and the Dekkan,
is always more or less refreshing. The range of the thermometer exhibits
no violent changes, and never indicates a temperature insupportably
high. The mean on an annual average scarcely exceeds 80° at Colombo,
though in exceptional years it has risen to 86°. But at no period of the
day are dangerous results to be apprehended from exposure to the sun;
and except during parts of the months of March, and April, there is no
season when moderate exercise is not practicable and agreeable. For half
the year, from October to May, the prevailing winds are from the
north-east, and during the remaining months the south-west monsoon blows
steadily from the great Indian Ocean. The former, affected by the wintry
chills of the vast tracts of land which it traverses before crossing the
Bay of Bengal, is subject to many local variations and intervals of
calm. But the latter, after the first violence of its outset is abated,
becomes nearly uniform throughout the period of its prevalence, and
presents the character of an on-shore breeze extending over a prodigious
expanse of sea and land, and exerting a powerful influence along the
regions of southern Asia.

[Footnote 1: The exception to the exemption of Ceylon from hurricanes is
the occasional occurrence of a cyclone extending its circle till the
verge has sometimes touched Batticaloa, on the south-eastern extremity
of the island, causing damage to vegetation and buildings. Such an event
is, however, exceedingly rare. On the 7th of January, 1805, H.M.S.
"Sheerness" and two others were driven on shore in a hurricane at
Trincomalie.]

In Ceylon the proverbial fickleness of the winds, and the uncertainty
which characterises the seasons in northern climates, is comparatively
unknown; and the occurrence of changes or rain may be anticipated with
considerable accuracy in any month of a coming year. There are, of
course, abnormal seasons with higher ranges of temperature, heavier
rains, or droughts of longer continuance, but such extremes are
exceptional and rare. Great atmospheric changes occur only at two
opposite periods of the year, and so gradual is their approach that the
climate is monotonous, and one longs to see again "the falling of the
leaf" to diversify the sameness of perennial verdure. The line is faint
which divides the seasons. No period of the year is divested of its
seed-time and its harvest in some part of the island; and fruit hangs
ripe on the same branches that are garlanded with opening buds. But as
every plant has its own period for the production of its flowers and
fruit, each month is characterised by its own peculiar flora.

As regards the foliage of the trees, it might be expected that the
variety of tints would be wanting which forms the charm of a European
landscape, and that all nature would wear one mantle of unchanging
green. But it has been remarked by a tasteful observer[1] that such is
far from the fact, and though in Ceylon there is no revolution of
seasons, the change of leaf on the same plant exhibits colours as bright
as those which tinge the autumnal woods of America. It is not the
decaying leaves, but the fresh shoots, which exhibit these brightened
colours, the older are still vividly green, whilst the young are
bursting forth; and the extremities of the branches present tufts of
pale yellow, pink, crimson, and purple, which give them at a distance
the appearance of a cluster of flowers.[2]

[Footnote 1: Prof. Harvey, Trin. Coll. Dublin.]

[Footnote 2: Some few trees, such as the margosa (_Azadirachta Indica_),
the country almond (_Terminalia catappa_), and others, are deciduous,
and part with their leaves. The cinnamon shoots forth in all shades from
bright yellow to dark crimson. The maella _(Olax Zeylanica)_ has always
a copper colour; and the ironwood trees of the interior have a perfect
blaze of young crimson leaves, as brilliant as flowers. The lovi-lovi
(_Flacourtia inermis_) has the same peculiarity; while the large bracts
of the mussænda (_Mussænda frondosa_) attract the notice of Europeans
for their angular whiteness.]

A notice of the variations exhibited by the weather at Colombo may serve
as an index to the atmospheric condition of the rest of the island,
except in those portions (such as the mountains of the interior, and the
low plains of the northern extremity) which exhibit modifications of
temperature and moisture incident to local peculiarities.

[Sidenote:
Wind N.E.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    85.6º
  Mean least       69.2º
Rain (inches)       3.1]

_January_.--At the opening of the year, the north-east monsoon, which
sets in two months previously, is nearly in mid career. This wind,
issuing from the chill north and robbed of its aqueous vapour in passing
over the elevated mountain regions on the confines of China and Thibet,
sweeps across the Bay of Bengal, whence its lowest strata imbibe a
quantity of moisture, moderate in amount, yet still leaving the great
mass of air far below saturation. Hence it reaches Ceylon comparatively
dry, and its general effects are parching and disagreeable. This
character is increased as the sun recedes towards its most southern
declination, and the wind acquires a more direct draught from the north;
passing over the Indian peninsula and almost totally digested of
humidity, it blows down the western coast of the island, and is known
there by the name of the "along-shore-wind." For a time its influence is
uncomfortable and its effects injurious both to health and vegetation:
it warps and rends furniture, dries up the surface of the earth, and
withers the delicate verdure which had sprung up during the prevalence
of the previous rains. These characteristics, however, subside towards
the end of the month, when the wind becomes somewhat variable with a
westerly tendency and occasional showers; and the heat of the day is
then partially compensated by the greater freshness of the nights. The
fall of rain within the month scarcely exceeds three inches.

[Sidenote:
Wind N.E.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    89°
  Mean least       71°
Rain (inches)     2.1]

_February_ is dry and hot during the day, but the nights are cloudless
and cool, and the moonlight singularly agreeable. Rain is rare, and when
it occurs it falls in dashes, succeeded by damp and sultry calms. The
wind is unsteady and shifts from north-east to north-west, sometimes
failing entirely between noon and twilight. The quantity of rain is less
than in January, and the difference of temperature between day and night
is frequently as great as 15° or 20°.[1]

[Footnote 1: Dr. MACVICAR, in a paper in the _Ceylon Miscellany_, July,
1843, recorded the results of some experiments, made near Colombo, as to
the daily variation of temperature and Its effects on cultivation, from
which it appeared that a register thermometer, exposed on a tuft of
grass in the cinnamon garden in a clear night and under the open sky, on
the 2nd of January, 1841, showed in the morning that it had been so low
as 52°, and when laid on the ground in the place in the sunshine on the
following day, it rose to upwards of 140° Fahr.]

[Sidenote:
Wind N.E. to N.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    87.7°
  Mean least       73.1°
Rain (inches)       2.1]

_March_.--In March the heat continues to increase, the earth receiving
more warmth than it radiates or parts with by evaporation. The day
becomes oppressive, the nights unrefreshing, the grass is withered and
brown, the earth hard and cleft, the lakes shrunk to shallows, and the
rivers evaporated to dryness. Europeans now escape from the low country,
and betake themselves to the shade of the forests adjoining the
coffee-plantations in the hills; or to the still higher sanatarium of
Neuera-ellia, nearly the loftiest plateau in the mountains of the
Kandyan range. The winds, when any are perceptible, are faint and
unsteady with a still increasing westerly tendency, partial showers
sometimes fall, and thunder begins to mutter towards sunset. At the
close of the month, the mean temperature will be found to have advanced
about a degree, but the sensible temperature and the force of the sun's
rays are felt in a still more perceptible proportion.

[Sidenote:
Wind N.W. to S.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    88.7°
  Mean least       73.6°
Rain (inches)       7.4]

_April_ is by far the most oppressive portion of the year for those who
remain at the sea-level of the island. The temperature continues to rise
as the sun in his northern progress passes vertically over the island. A
mirage fills the hollows with mimic water; the heat in close apartments
becomes extreme, and every living creature flies to the shade from the
suffocating glare of mid-day. At length the sea exhibits symptoms of an
approaching change, a ground swell sets in from the west, and the breeze
towards sunset brings clouds and grateful showers. At the end of the
month the mean temperature attains its greatest height during the year,
being about 83° in the day, and 10° lower at night.

[Sidenote:
Wind N.W. to S.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    87.2°
  Mean least       72.9°
Rain (inches)      13.3]

_May_ is signalised by the great event of the change of the monsoon, and
all the grand phenomena which accompany its approach.

It is difficult for any one who has not resided in the tropics to
comprehend the feeling of enjoyment which accompanies these periodical
commotions of the atmosphere; in Europe they would be fraught with
annoyance, but in Ceylon they are welcomed with a relish proportionate
to the monotony they dispel.

Long before the wished-for period arrives, the verdure produced by the
previous rains becomes almost obliterated by the burning droughts of
March and April. The deciduous trees shed their foliage, the plants
cease to put forth fresh leaves, and all vegetable life languishes under
the unwholesome heat. The grass withers on the baked and cloven earth,
and red dust settles on the branches and thirsty brushwood. The insects,
deprived of their accustomed food, disappear underground or hide beneath
the decaying bark; the water-beetles bury themselves in the hardened mud
of the pools, and the _helices_ retire into the crevices of the stones
or the hollows amongst the roots of the trees, closing the apertures of
their shells with the hybernating epiphragm. Butterflies are no longer
seen hovering over the flowers, the birds appear fewer and less joyous,
and the wild animals and crocodiles, driven by the drought from their
accustomed retreats, wander through the jungle, and even venture to
approach the village wells in search of water. Man equally languishes
under the general exhaustion, ordinary exertion becomes distasteful, and
the native Singhalese, although inured to the climate, move with
lassitude and reluctance.

Meanwhile the air becomes loaded to saturation with aqueous vapour drawn
up by the augmented force of evaporation acting vigorously over land and
sea: the sky, instead of its brilliant blue, assumes the sullen tint of
lead, and not a breath disturbs the motionless rest of the clouds that
hang on the lower range of hills. At length, generally about the middle
of the month, but frequently earlier, the sultry suspense is broken by
the arrival of the wished-for change. The sun has by this time nearly
attained his greatest northern declination, and created a torrid heat
throughout the lands of southern Asia and the peninsula of India. The
air, lightened by its high temperature and such watery vapour as it may
contain, rises into loftier regions and is replaced by indraughts from
the neighbouring sea, and thus a tendency is gradually given to the
formation of a current bringing up from the south the warm humid air of
the equator. The wind, therefore, which reaches Ceylon comes laden with
moisture, taken up in its passage across the great Indian Ocean. As the
monsoon draws near, the days become more overcast and hot, banks of
clouds rise over the ocean to the west, and in the peculiar twilight the
eye is attracted by the unusual whiteness of the sea-birds that sweep
along the strand to seize the objects flung on shore by the rising surf.

At last the sudden lightnings flash among the hills and sheet through
the clouds that overhang the sea[1], and with a crash of thunder the
monsoon bursts over the thirsty land, not in showers or partial
torrents, but in a wide deluge, that in the course of a few hours
overtops the river banks and spreads in inundations over every level
plain.

[Footnote 1: The lightnings of Ceylon are so remarkable, that in the
middle ages they were as well known to the Arabian seamen, who coasted
the island on their way to China, as in later times the storms that
infested the Cape of Good Hope were familiar to early navigators of
Portugal. In the _Mohit_ of SIDI ALI CHELEBI, translated by Von Hammer,
it is stated that to seamen, sailing from Diu to Malacca, "the sign of
Ceylon being near is continual lightning, be it accompanied by rain or
without rain; so that 'the lightning of Ceylon' is proverbial for a
liar!"--_Journ. Asiat. Soc. Beng._ v. 465.]

All the phenomena of this explosion are stupendous: thunder, as we are
accustomed to be awed by it in Europe, affords but the faintest idea of
its overpowering grandeur in Ceylon, and its sublimity is infinitely
increased as it is faintly heard from the shore, resounding through
night and darkness over the gloomy sea. The lightning, when it touches
the earth where it is covered with the descending torrent, flashes into
it and disappears instantaneously; but, when it strikes a drier surface,
in seeking better conductors, it often opens a hollow like that formed
by the explosion of a shell, and frequently leaves behind it traces of
vitrification.[1] In Ceylon, however, occurrences of this kind are rare,
and accidents are seldom recorded from lightning, probably owing to the
profusion of trees, and especially of coco-nut palms, which, when
drenched with rain, intercept the discharge, and conduct the electric
matter to the earth. The rain at these periods excites the astonishment
of a European: it descends in almost continuous streams, so close and so
dense that the level ground, unable to absorb it sufficiently fast, is
covered with one uniform sheet of water, and down the sides of
acclivities it rushes in a volume that wears channels in the surface.[2]
For hours together, the noise of the torrent, as it beats upon the trees
and bursts upon the roofs, flowing thence in rivulets along the ground,
occasions an uproar that drowns the ordinary voice, and renders sleep
impossible.

[Footnote 1: See DARWIN'S _Naturalist's Voyage_, ch. iii. for an account
of those vitrified siliceous tubes which are formed by lightning
entering loose sand. During a thunderstorm which passed over Galle, on
the 16th May, 1854, the fortifications were shaken by lightning, and an
extraordinary cavity was opened behind the retaining wall of the
rampart, where a hole, a yard in diameter, was carried into the ground
to the depth of twenty feet, and two chambers, each six feet in length,
branched out on either side at its extremity.]

[Footnote 2: One morning on awaking  at Pusilawa, in the hills between
Kandy and Neuera-ellia, I was taken to see the effect of a few hours'
rain, during the night, on a macadamised road which I had passed the
evening before. There was no symptom of a storm at sunset, and the
morning was bright and cloudless; but between midnight and dawn such an
inundation had swept the highway that in many places the metal had been
washed over the face of the acclivity; and in one spot where a sudden
bend forced the torrent to impinge against the bank, it had scooped out
an excavation extending to the centre of the high road, thirteen feet in
diameter, and deep enough to hold a carriage and horses.]

This violence, however, seldom lasts more than an hour or two, and
gradually abates after intermittent paroxysms, and a serenely clear sky
supervenes. For some days, heavy showers continue to fall at intervals
in the forenoon; and the evenings which follow are embellished by
sunsets of the most gorgeous splendour, lighting the fragments of clouds
that survive the recent storm.

[Sidenote:
Wind S.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
 Mean greatest   85.8°
 Mean least      74.4°
Rain (inches)     6.8]

_June_.--The extreme heat of the previous month becomes modified in
June: the winds continue steadily to blow from the south-west, and
frequent showers, accompanied by lightning and thunder, serve still
further to diffuse coolness throughout the atmosphere and verdure over
the earth.

So instantaneous is the response of Nature to the influence of returning
moisture, that, in a single day, and almost between sunset and dawn, the
green hue of reviving vegetation begins to tint the saturated ground. In
ponds, from which but a week before the wind blew clouds of sandy dust,
the peasantry are now to be seen catching the re-animated fish; and
tank-shells and water-beetles revive and wander over the submerged
sedges. The electricity of the air stimulates the vegetation of the
trees; and scarce a week will elapse till the plants are covered with
the larvæ of butterflies, the forest murmuring with the hum of insects,
and the air harmonious with the voice of birds.

The extent to which the temperature is reduced, after the first burst of
the monsoon, is not to be appreciated by the indications of the
thermometer alone, but is rendered still more sensible by the altered
density of the air, the drier state of which is favourable to
evaporation, whilst the increase of its movement bringing it more
rapidly in contact with the human body, heat is more readily carried
off, and the coolness of the surface proportionally increased. It
occasionally happens during the month of June that the westerly wind
acquires considerable strength, sometimes amounting to a moderate gale.
The fishermen, at this period, seldom put to sea: their canoes are drawn
far up in lines upon the shore, and vessels riding in the roads of
Colombo are often driven from their anchorage and stranded on the beach.

[Sidenote:
Wind S.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    84.8º
  Mean least       74.9º
Rain (inches)       3.4]

_July_ resembles, to a great extent, the month which precedes it, except
that, in all particulars the season is more moderate, showers are less
frequent, there is less wind, and less absolute heat.

[Sidenote:
Wind S.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest     84.9°
  Mean least        74.7°
  Rain (inches)      2.8]

_August_.--In August the weather is charming, notwithstanding
withstanding a slight increase of heat, owing to diminished evaporation;
and the sun being now on its return to the equator, its power is felt in
greater force on full exposure to its influence.

[Sidenote:
Wind S.W.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest     84.9º
  Mean least        74.8º
Rain (inches)        5.2]

_September_.--The same atmospheric condition continues throughout
September, but towards its close the sea-breeze becomes unsteady and
clouds begin to collect, symptomatic of the approaching change to the
north-east monsoon. The nights are always clear and delightfully cool.
Rain is sometimes abundant.

[Sidenote:
Wind S.W. and N.E.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest     85.1º
  Mean least        73.3º
Rain (inches)       11.2]

_October_ is more unsettled, the wind veering towards the north, with
pretty frequent rain; and as the sun is now far to the southward, the
heat continues to decline.

[Sidenote:
Wind N.E.
Temperature, 24 hours:
  Mean greatest     86.3º
  Mean least        71.5º
Rain (inches)       10.7]

_November_ sees the close of the south-west monsoon and the arrival of
the north-eastern. In the early part of the month the wind visits nearly
every point of the compass, but shows a marked predilection for the
north, generally veering from N.E. at night and early morning, to N.W.
at noon; calms are frequent and precede gentle showers, and clouds form
round the lower range of hills. By degrees as the sun advances in its
southern declination, and warms the lower half of the great African
continent, the current of heated air ascending from the equatorial belt
leaves a comparative vacuum, towards which the less rarefied atmospheric
fluid is drawn down from the regions north, of the tropic, bringing with
it the cold and dry winds from the Himalayan Alps, and the lofty ranges
of Assam. The great change is heralded as before by oppressive calms,
lurid skies, vivid lightning, bursts of thunder, and tumultuous rain.
But at this change of the monsoon the atmospheric disturbance is less
striking than in May; the previous temperature is lower, the moisture of
the air is more reduced, and the change is less agreeably perceptible
from the southern breeze to the dry and parching wind from the north.

[Sidenote:
Wind N.E.
Temperature 24 hours:
  Mean greatest    85°
  Mean least       70°
Rain (inches)      4.3]

_December_.--In December the sun attains to its greatest southern
declination, and the wind setting steadily from the northeast brings
with it light but frequent rains from Bay Of Bengal. The thermometer
shows a maximum temperature of 85° with a minimum of 70°; the morning
and the afternoon are again enjoyable in the open air, but at night
every lattice that faces the north is cautiously closed against the
treacherous "along-shore-wind."

Notwithstanding the violence and volume in which the rains have been
here described as descending during the paroxysms of the monsoons, the
total rain-fall in Ceylon is considerably less than on the continent of
Throughout Hindustan the annual mean is 117.5 and on some parts on the
Malabar coast, upwards of 300 inches have fallen in a single year[1];
whereas the in Ceylon rarely exceeds 80, and the highest registered in
an exceptional season was 120 inches.

[Footnote 1: At Mahabaleshwar, in the Western Ghauts, the annual mean is
254 inches, and at Uttray Mullay; in Malabar, 263; whilst at Bengal it
is 209 inches at Sylhet; and 610.3 at Cherraponga.]

The distribution is of course unequal, both as to time and localities,
and in those districts where the fall is most considerable, the number
of rainless days is the greatest.[1] An idea may be formed of the deluge
that descends in Colombo during the change of the monsoon, from the fact
that out of 72.4 inches, the annual average there, no less than 20.7
inches fall in April and May, and 21.9 in October and November, a
quantity one-third greater than the total rain in England throughout an
entire year.

[Footnote 1: The average number of days on which rain fell at Colombo in
the years 1832, 1833, 1834, and 1835, was as follows:--

                   Days.
  In January           3
     February          4
     March             6
     April            11
     May              13
     June             13
     July              8
     August           10
     September        14
     October          17
     November         11
     December          8
                     ---
    Total            118]

In one important particular the phenomenon, of the Dekkan affords an
analogy for that which presents itself in Ceylon. During the south-west
monsoon the clouds are driven against the lofty chain of mountains that
overhang the western shore of the peninsula, and their condensed vapour
descends there in copious showers. The winds, thus early robbed of their
moisture, carry but little rain to the plains of the interior, and
whilst Malabar is saturated by daily showers, the sky of Coromandel is
clear and serene. In the north-east monsoon a condition the very
opposite exists; the wind that then prevails is much drier, and the
hills which it encounters being of lower altitude, the rains are carried
further towards the interior, and whilst the weather is unsettled and
stormy on the eastern shore, the western is comparatively exempt, and
enjoys a calm and cloudless sky.[1]

[Footnote 1: The mean of rain is, on the western side of the Dekkan, 80
inches, and on the eastern, 52.8.]

In like manner the west coast of Ceylon presents a contrast with the
east, both in the volume of rain in each of the respective monsoons, and
in the influence which the same monsoon exerts simultaneously on the one
side of the island and on the other. The greatest quantity of rain falls
on the south-western portion, in the month of May, when the wind from
the Indian Ocean is intercepted, and its moisture condensed by the lofty
mountain ranges, surrounding Adam's Peak. The region principally
affected by it stretches from Point-de-Galle, as far north as Putlam,
and eastward till it includes the greater portion of the ancient Kandyan
kingdom. But the rains do not reach the opposite side of the island;
whilst the west coast is deluged, the east is sometimes exhausted with
dryness; and it not unfrequently happens that different aspects of the
same mountain present at the same moment the opposite extremes of
drought and moisture.[1]

[Footnote 1: ADMIRAL FITZROY has described, in his _Narrative of the
Voyages of the Adventure and Beagle_, the striking degree in which this
simultaneous dissimilarity of climate is exhibited on opposite sides of
the Galapagos Islands; one aspect exposed to the south being covered
with verdure and freshened with moisture, whilst all others are barren
and parched.--Vol. ii. p. 502-3. The same state of things exists in the
east and west sides of the Peruvian Andes, and in the mountains of
Patagonia. And no more remarkable example of it exists than in the
island of Socotra, east of the Straits of Bab el Mandeb, the west coast
of which, during the north-east monsoon, is destitute of rain and
verdure, whilst the eastern side is enriched by streams and covered by
luxuriant pasturage.--_Journ. Asiat. Soc. Beng._ vol. iv. p. 141.]

[Illustration: DIAGRAM EXHIBITING THE COMPARATIVE FALL OF RAIN ON THE
SEABORDE OF THE DEEKAN, AND AT COLOMBO, IN THE WESTERN PROVINCE OF
CEYLON.

One maximum at the spring change of the monsoon anticipating a little
that on the West coast of India; another at the autumnal change
corresponding more exactly with that of the East coast. The entire fall
through the year more equably distributed at Columbo.]

On the east coast, on the other hand, the fall, during the north-east
monsoon, is very similar in degree to that on the coast of Coromandel,
as the mountains are lower and more remote from the sea, the clouds are
carried farther inland and it rains simultaneously on both sides of the
island, though much less on the west than during the other monsoon.

_The climate of Galle_, as already stated, resembles in its general
characteristics that of Colombo, but, being further to the south, and
more equally exposed to the influence of both the monsoons, the
temperature is not quite so high; and, during the cold season, it falls
some degrees lower, especially in the evening and early morning.[1]

[Footnote 1: At Point-de-Galle, in 1854, the number of rainy days was as
follows:

             Days.
January       12
February       7
March         16
April         12
May           23
June          18
July          11
August        21
September     16
October       20
November      15
December      13]

_Kandy_, from its position, shares in the climate of the western coast;
but, from the frequency of the mountain showers, and its situation, at
an elevation of upwards of sixteen hundred feet above the level of the
sea, it enjoys a much cooler temperature. It differs from the low
country in one particular, which is very striking--the early period of
the day at which the maximum heat is attained. This at Colombo is
generally between two and three o'clock in the afternoon, whereas at
Kandy the thermometer shows the highest temperature of the day between
ten and eleven o'clock in the morning.

In the low country, ingenuity has devised so many expedients for defence
from the excessive heat of the forenoon, that the languor it induces is
chiefly experienced after sunset, and the coolness of the night is
insufficient to compensate for the exhaustion of the day; but, in Kandy,
the nights are so cool that it is seldom that warm covering can be
altogether dispensed with. In the colder months, the daily range of the
thermometer is considerable--approaching 30°; in the others, it differs
little from 15°. The average mean, however, of each month throughout the
year is nearly identical, deviating only a degree from 76°, the mean
annual temperature.[1]

[Footnote 1: The following Table appeared in the _Colombo Observer_, and
is valuable from the care taken by Mr. Caley in its preparation;

_Analysis of the Climate at Peradenia, from 1851 to 1858 inclusive._

|Months.    |     Temperature.     |  Rainfall. |      Remarks.           |
|           |     |    |     |Aver-|    |Average|                         |
|           |Max. |Min.|Mean.|age  | In.|of     |                         |
|           |     |    |     | of  |    |Years /                          |
|           |     |    |     |Years|     \    /                           |
|January    |85.0 |52.5|74.06|6    |4.04  |6 |Fine, sunny, heavy dew at   |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |night, hot days, and cold   |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |nights and mornings.        |
|February   |87.75|55.0|75.76|7    |1.625 |6 |Fine, sunny, dewy nights,   |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |foggy mornings, days hot,   |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |nights and mornings cold.   |
|March      |89.5 |59.5|77.42|7    |3.669 |6 |Generally a very hot and    |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |oppressive month.           |
|April      |89.5 |67.5|77.91|7    |7.759 |6 |Showery, sultry, and        |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |   oppressive weather.      |
|May        |88.0 |66.0|77.7 |8    |8.022 |6 |Cloudy, windy, rainy;       |
                                             |  monsoon generally changes.|
|June       |86.0 |71.0|76.69|8    |7.155 |6 |A very wet and stormy month.|
|July       |86.0 |67.0|75.64|8    |5.72  |6 |Ditto           ditto       |
|August     |85.5 |67.0|75.81|8    |8.55  |6 |Showery, but sometimes more |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |moderate, variable          |
|September  |85.5 |67.0|76.13|8    |6.318 |6 |Pretty dry weather, compared|
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |with the next two months.   |
|October    |85.73|68.2|75.1 |8    |15.46 |6 |Wind variable, much rain.   |
|November   |84.0 |62.0|74.79|8    |14.732|6 |Wind variable, storms from  |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |all points of compass, wet; |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |monsoon generally changes.  |
|December   |82.75|57.0|74.05|7    |7.72  |5 |Sometimes wet, but generally|
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |more moderate; towards      |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |end of year like January    |
|           |     |    |     |     |      |  |weather.                    |

      Mean yearly Temperature,  Mean yearly          Nov. 29, 1858
      75.92º                    Rainfall, 91.75          J.A. CALEY.
                                in. nearly.]

In all the mountain valleys, the soil being warmer than the air, vapour
abounds in the early morning for the most part of the year. It greatly
adds to the chilliness of travelling before dawn; but, generally
speaking, it is not wetting, as it is charged with the same electricity
as the surface of the earth and the human body. When seen from the
heights, it is a singular object, as it lies compact and white as snow
in the hollows beneath, but it is soon put in motion by the morning
currents, and wafted in the direction of the coast, where it is
dissipated by the sunbeams.

_Snow_ is unknown in Ceylon; _Hail_ occasionally falls in the Kandyan
hills at the change of the monsoon,[1] but more frequently during that
from the north-east. As observed at Kornegalle, the clouds, after
collecting as usual for a few evenings, and gradually becoming more
dense, advanced in a wedge-like form, with a well-defined outline. The
first fall of rain was preceded by a downward blast of cold air,
accompanied by hailstones which outstripped the rain in their descent.
Rain and hail then poured down together, and, eventually, the latter
only spread its deluge far and wide, In 1852, the hail which thus fell
at Kornegalle was of such a size that half-a-dozen lumps filled a
tumbler, In shape, they were oval and compressed, but the mass appeared
to have formed an hexagonal pyramid, the base of which was two inches in
diameter, and about half-an-inch thick, gradually thinning towards the
edge. They were tolerably solid internally, each containing about the
size of a pea of clear ice at the centre, but the sides and angles were
spongy and flocculent, as if the particles had been driven together by
the force of the wind, and had coalesced at the instant of contact. A
phenomenon so striking as the fall of ice, at the moment of the most
intense atmospherical heat, naturally attracts the wonder of the
natives, who hasten to collect the pieces, and preserve them, when
dissolved, in bottles, from a belief in their medicinal properties. Mr.
Morris, who has repeatedly observed hailstones in the Seven Korles, is
under the impression that their occurrence always happens at the first
outburst of the monsoon, and that they fall at the moment, which is
marked by the first flash of lightning.

[Footnote 1: It is stated in the _Physical Atlas_ of KEITH JOHNSTON,
that hail in India has not been noticed south of Madras. But in Ceylon
it has fallen very recently at Korngalle, at Badulla, at Kaduganawa; and
I have heard of a hail storm at Jaffna.  On 1 the 24th of Sept. 1857,
during a thunder-storm, hail fell near Matelle in such quantity that in
places it formed drifts upwards of a foot in depth.]

According to Professor Stevelly, of Belfast, the rationale of their
appearance on such occasions seems to be that, on the sudden formation
and descent of the first drops, the air expanding and rushing into the
void spaces, robs the succeeding drops of their caloric so effectually
as to send them to the earth frozen into ice-balls.

These descriptions, it will be observed, apply exclusively to the
southern regions on the east and west of Ceylon; and, in many
particulars, they are inapplicable to the northern portions of the
island. At Trincomalie, the climate bears a general resemblance to that
of the Indian peninsula south of Madras: showers are frequent, but
light, and the rain throughout the year does not exceed forty inches.
With moist winds and plentiful dew, this sustains a vigorous vegetation
near the coast; but in the interior it would be insufficient for the
culture of grain, were not the water husbanded in tanks; and, for this
reason, the bulk of the population are settled along the banks of the
great rivers.

The temperature of this part of Ceylon follows the course of the sun,
and ranges from a minimum of 70° in December and January, to a maximum
of 94° in May and June; but the heat is rendered tolerable at all
seasons by the steadiness of the land and sea breezes.[1]

[Footnote 1: The following facts regarding the climate of Trincomalie
have been, arranged from elaborate returns furnished by Mr. Higgs, the
master-attendant of the port, and published under the authority of the
meteorological department of the Board of Trade:--

_Trincomalie_.

                                |Extreme
     |Mean        |Mean         |Range    |Highest    |Days
1854 |Maximum     |Minimum      |for the  |Temperature|of
     |Temperature |Temperature  |Month    |Noted      |Rain
Jan. |  81.3°     | 74.7°       | 14°     | 83        | 10
Feb. |  83.8      | 75.8        | 14      | 86        |  7
Mar. |  85.9      | 76.1        | 16      | 88        |  3
April|  89.6      | 78.9        | 16      | 92        |  3
May  |  89.1      | 79.3        | 19      | 93        |  3
June |  90.0      | 79.5        | 19      | 94        |  3
July |  87.7      | 77.7        | 16      | 90        |  5
Aug. |  87.9      | 77.4        | 16      | 91        |  4
Sept.|  89.3      | 77.8        | 18      | 93        |  2
Oct. |  85.2      | 75.8        | 15      | 89        | 14
Nov. |  81.O      | 74.9        | 11      | 83        | 15
Dec. |  80.1      | 74.3        | 11      | 82        | 15
Mean temperature for the year 81.4.]

In the extreme north of the island, the peninsula of Jaffna, and the
vast plains of Neura-kalawa and the Wanny, form a third climatic
division, which, from the geological structure and peculiar
configuration of the district, differs essentially from the rest of
Ceylon. This region, which is destitute of mountains, is undulating in a
very slight degree; the dry and parching north-east wind desiccates the
soil in its passage, and the sandy plains are covered with a low and
scanty vegetation, chiefly fed by the night dews and whatever moisture
is brought by the on-shore wind. The total rain of the year does not
exceed thirty inches; and the inhabitants live in frequent apprehension
of droughts and famines. These conditions attain their utmost
manifestation at the extreme north and in the Jaffna peninsula: there
the temperature is the highest[1] in the island, and, owing to the
humidity of the situation and the total absence of hills, it is but
little affected by the changes of the monsoons; and the thermometer
keeps a regulated pace with the progress of the sun to and from the
solstices. The soil, except in particular spots, is porous and sandy,
formed from the detritus of the coral rocks which it overlays. It is
subject to droughts sometimes of a whole year's continuance; and rain,
when it falls, is so speedily absorbed, that it renders but slight
service to cultivation, which is entirely carried on by means of tanks
and artificial irrigation, in the practice of which the Tamil population
of this district exhibits singular perseverance and ingenuity.[2] In the
dry season, when scarcely any verdure is discernible above ground, the
sheep and goats feed on their knees--scraping away the sand, in order to
reach the wiry and succulent roots of the grasses. From the constancy of
this practice horny callosities are produced, by which these hardy
creatures may be distinguished.

[Footnote 1: The mean lowest temperature at Jaffna is 70º, the mean
highest 90º; but in 1845-6 the thermometer rose to 90º and 100º.]

[Footnote 2: For an account of the Jaffna wells, and the theory of their
supply with fresh water, see ch. i. p. 21.]

Water-spouts are frequent on the coast of Ceylon, owing to the different
temperature of the currents of air passing across the heated earth and
the cooler sea, but instances are very rare of their bursting over land,
or of accidents in consequence.[1]

[Footnote 1: CAMOENS, who had opportunities of observing the phenomena
of these seas during his service on board the fleet of Cabral, off the
coast of Malabar and Ceylon, has introduced into the _Lusiad_ the
episode of a water-spout in the Indian Ocean; but, under the belief that
the water which descends had been previously drawn up by suction from
the ocean, he exclaims:--

  "But say, ye sages, who can weigh the cause,
  And trace the secret springs of Nature's laws;
  Say why the wave, of bitter brine erewhile,
  Should be the bosom of the deep recoil,
  Robbed of its salt, and from the cloud distil,
  Sweet as the waters of the limpid rill?"

(Book v.)

But the truth appears to be that the torrent which descends from a
water-spout, is but the condensed accumulation of its own vapour, and,
though in the hollow of the lower cone which rests upon the surface of
the sea, salt water may possibly ascend in the partial vacuum caused by
revolution; or spray may be caught up and collected by the wind, still
these cannot be raised by it beyond a very limited height, and what
Camoens saw descend was, as he truly says, the sweet water distilled
from the cloud.]

A curious phenomenon, to which the name of "anthelia" has been given,
and which may probably have suggested to the early painters the idea of
the glory surrounding the heads of beatified saints, is to be seen in
singular beauty, at early morning, in Ceylon. When the light is intense,
and the shadows proportionally dark--when the sun is near the horizon,
and the shadow of a person walking is thrown on the dewy grass--each
particle of dew furnishes a double reflection from its concave and
convex surfaces; and to the spectator his own figure, but more
particularly the head, appears surrounded by a halo as vivid as if
radiated from diamonds.[1] The Buddhists may possibly have taken from
this beautiful object their idea of the _agni_ or emblem of the sun,
with which the head of Buddha is surmounted. But unable to express a
_halo_ in sculpture, they concentrated it into a _flame_.

[Footnote 1: SCORESBY describes the occurrence of a similar phenomenon
in the Arctic Seas in July, 1813, the luminous circle being produced on
the particles of fog which rested on the calm water. "The lower part of
the circle descended beneath my feet to the side of the ship, and
although it could not be a hundred feet from the eye, it was perfect,
and the colours distinct. The centre of the coloured circle was
distinguished by my own shadow, the head of which, enveloped by a halo,
was most conspicuously pourtrayed. The halo or glory evidently impressed
on the fog, but the figure appeared to be a shadow on the water; the
different parts became obscure in proportion to their remoteness from
the head, so that the lower extremities were not perceptible."--_Account
of the Arctic Regions_, vol. i. ch. v. sec. vi. p. 394. A similar
phenomenon occurs in the Khasia Hills, in the north-east of
Bengal.--_Asiat. Soc. Journ. Beng._ vol. xiii. p. 616.]

[Illustration: THE ANTHELIA AS IT APPEARS TO THE PERSON HIMSELF]

Another luminous phenomenon which sometimes appears in the hill country,
consists of beams of light, which intersect the sky, whilst the sun is
yet in the ascendant; sometimes horizontally, accompanied by
intermitting movements, and sometimes vertically, a broad belt of the
blue sky interposing between them.[1]

[Footnote 1: VIGNE mentions an appearance of this kind in the valley of
Kashmir: "Whilst the rest of the horizon was glowing golden over the
mountain tops, a broad well-defined ray-shaped streak of indigo was
shooting upwards in the zenith: it remained nearly stationary about an
hour, and was then blended into the sky around it, and disappeared with
the day. It was, no doubt, owing to the presence of some particular
mountains which intercepted the red rays, and threw a blue shadow, by
causing so much of the sky above Kashmir to remain unaffected by
them."--_Travels in Kashmir_, vol. ii. ch. x. p. 115.]

In Ceylon this is doubtless owing to the air holding in suspension a
large quantity of vapour, which receives shadows and reflects rays of
light. The natives, who designate them "Buddha's rays," attach a
superstitious dread to their appearance, and believe them to be
portentous of misfortune--in every month, with the exception of _May_,
which, for some unexplained reason, is exempted.

HEALTH.--In connection with the subject of "Climate," one of the most
important inquiries is the probable effect on the health and
constitution of a European produced by a prolonged exposure to an
unvarying temperature, upwards of 30 degrees higher than the average of
Great Britain. But to this the most tranquillising reply is the
assurance that _mere heat, even to a degree beyond that of Ceylon, is
not unhealthy in itself_. Aden, enclosed in a crater of an extinct
volcano, is not considered insalubrious; and the hot season in India,
when the thermometer stands at 100° at midnight, is comparatively a
healthy period of the year. In fact, in numerous cases heat may be the
means of removing the immediate sources of disease. Its first
perceptible effect is a slight increase, of the normal bodily
temperature beyond 98°, and, simultaneously, an increased activity of
all the vital functions. To this everything contributes an exciting
sympathy--the glad surprise of the natural scenery, the luxury of
verdure, the tempting novelty of fruits and food, and all the
unaccustomed attractions of a tropical home. Under these combined
influences the nervous sensibility is considerably excited, and the
circulation acquires greater velocity, with somewhat diminished force.
This is soon followed, however, by the disagreeable evidences of the
effort made by the system to accommodate itself to the new atmospheric
condition. The skin often becomes fretted by "prickly heat," or
tormented by a profusion of boils, but relief being speedily obtained
through these resources, the new comer is seldom afterwards annoyed by a
recurrence of the process, unless under circumstances of impaired tone,
the result of weakened digestion or climatic derangement.

_Malaria_.--Compared with Bengal and the Dekkan, the climate of Ceylon
presents a striking superiority in mildness and exemption from all the
extremes of atmospheric disturbance; and, except in particular
localities, all of which are well known and avoided[1], from being
liable after the rains to malaria, or infested at particular seasons
with agues and fever, a lengthened residence in the island may be
contemplated, without the slightest apprehension of prejudicial results.
These pestilential localities are chiefly at the foot of mountains, and,
strange to say, in the vicinity of some active rivers, whilst the vast
level plains, whose stagnant waters are made available for the
cultivation of rice, are seldom or never productive of disease. It is
even believed that the deadly air is deprived of its poison in passing
over an expanse of still water; and one of the most remarkable
circumstances is, that the points fronting the aerial currents are those
exposed to danger, whilst projecting cliffs, belts of forest, and even
moderately high walls, serve to protect all behind them from attack.[2]
In traversing districts suspected of malaria, experience has dictated
certain precautions, which, with ordinary prudence and firmness, serve
to neutralise the risk--retiring punctually at sunset, generous diet,
moderate stimulants, and the daily use of quinine both before and after
exposure. These, and the precaution, at whatever sacrifice of comfort,
to sleep under mosquito curtains, have been proved in long journeys to
be valuable prophylactics against fever and the pestilence of the
jungle.

[Footnote 1: Notwithstanding this general condition, fevers of a very
serious kind have been occasionally known to attack persons on the
coast, who had never exposed themselves to the miasma of the jungle.
Such instances have occurred at Galle, and more rarely at Colombo. The
characteristics of places in this regard have, in some instances,
changed unaccountably; thus at Persadenia, close to Kandy, it was at one
time regarded as dangerous to sleep.]

[Footnote 2: Generally speaking, a flat open country is healthy, either
when flooded deeply by rains, or when dried to hardness by the sun; but
in the process of dessication, its exhalations are perilous. The wooded
slopes at the base of mountains are notorious for fevers; such as the
_terrai_ of the Nepal hills, the Wynaad jungle, at the foot of the
Ghauts, and the eastern side of the mountains of Ceylon.]

_Food_.--Always bearing in mind that of the quantity of food habitually
taken in a temperate climate, a certain proportion is consumed to
sustain the animal heat, it is obvious that in the glow of the tropics,
where the heat is already in excess, this portion of the ingesta not
only becomes superfluous so far as this office is concerned, but
occasions disturbance of the other functions both of digestion and
elimination. Over-indulgence in food, equally with intemperance in wine,
is one fruitful source of disease amongst Europeans in Ceylon; and
maladies and mortality are often the result of the former, in patients
who would repel as an insult the imputation of the latter.

So well have national habits conformed to instinctive promptings in this
regard, that the natives of hot countries have unconsciously sought to
heighten the enjoyment of food by taking their principal repast _after
sunset_[1]; and the European in the East will speedily discover for
himself the prudence, not only of reducing the quantity, but in regard
to the quality of his meals, of adopting those articles which nature has
bountifully supplied as best suited to the climate. With a moderate use
of flesh meat, vegetables, and especially farinaceous food, are chiefly
to be commended.

[Footnote 1: The prohibition of swine, which has formed an item in the
dietetic ritual of the Egyptians, the Hebrews, and Mahometans, has been
defended in all ages, from Manetho and Herodotus downwards, on the
ground that the flesh of an animal so foully fed has a tendency to
promote cutaneous disorders, a belief which, though held as a fallacy in
northern climates, may have a truthful basis in the East.--ÆLIAN, _Hist.
Anim._ 1. X. 16. In a recent general order Lord Clyde has prohibited its
use in the Indian army. Camel's flesh, which is also declared unclean in
Leviticus, is said to produce in the Arabs serious derangement of the
stomach.]

The latter is rendered attractive by the unrivalled excellence of the
Singhalese in the preparation of innumerable curries[1], each tempered
by the delicate creamy juice expressed from the flesh of the coco-nut
after it has been reduced to a pulp. Nothing of the same class in India
can bear a comparison with the piquant delicacy of a curry in Ceylon,
composed of fresh condiments and compounded by the skilful hand of a
native.

[Footnote 1: The popular error of thinking curry to be an invention of
the Portuguese in India is disproved by the mention in the _Rajavali_ of
its use in Ceylon in the second century before the Christian era, and in
the _Mahawanso_ in the fifth century of it. This subject is mentioned
elsewhere: see chapter on the Arts and Sciences of the Singhalese.]

_The use of fruit_--Fruits are abundant and wholesome; but with the
exception of oranges, pineapples, the luscious mango and the
indescribable "rambutan," for want of horticultural attention they are
inferior in flavour, and soon cease to be alluring.

_Wine_.--Wine has of late years become accessible to all, and has thus,
in some degree, been substituted for brandy; the abuse of which at
former periods is commemorated in the records of those fearful disorders
of the liver, derangements of the brain, exhausting fevers, and visceral
diseases, which characterise the medical annals of earlier times. With a
firm adherence to temperance in the enjoyment of stimulants, and
moderation in the pleasures of the table, with attention to exercise and
frequent resort to the bath, it may be confidently asserted that health
in Ceylon is as capable of preservation and life as susceptible of
enjoyment, as in any country within the tropics.

_Exposure_.--Prudence and foresight are, however, as indispensable there
as in any other climate to escape well-understood risks. Catarrhs and
rheumatism are as likely to follow needless exposure to the withering
"along-shore wind" of the winter months in Ceylon[1], as they are
traceable to unwisely confronting the east winds of March in Great
Britain; and during the alternation, from the sluggish heat which
precedes the monsoon, to the moist and chill vapours that follow the
descent of the rains, intestinal disorders, fevers, and liver complaints
are not more characteristic of an Indian monsoon than an English autumn,
and are equally amenable to those precautions by which liability may be
diminished in either place.

[Footnote 1: See _ante_, p. 57. It is an agreeable characteristic of the
climate of Ceylon, that sun-stroke, which is so common even in the
northern portions of India, is almost unknown in the island. Sportsmen
are out all day long in the hottest weather, a practice which would be
thought more than hazardous in Oude or the north-west provinces. Perhaps
an explanation of this may be found in the difference in moisture in the
two atmospheres, which may modify the degrees of evaporation; but the
inquiry is a curious one. It is becoming better understood in the army
that active service, and even a moderate exposure to the solar rays
(_always guarding them from the head_,) are conducive rather than
injurious to health in the tropics. The pale and sallow complexion of
ladies and children born in India, is ascribable in a certain degree to
the same process by which vegetables are blanched under shades which
exclude the light:--they are reared in apartments too carefully kept
dark.]

_Paleness_.--At the same time it must be observed, that the pallid
complexion peculiar to old residents, is not alone ascribable to an
organic change in the skin from its being the medium of perpetual
exudation, but in part to a deficiency of red globules in the blood, and
mainly to a reduced vigour in the whole muscular apparatus, including
the action of the heart, which imperfectly compensates by increased
rapidity for diminution of power. It is remarkable how suddenly this
sallowness disappears, and is succeeded by the warm tints of health,
after a visit of a very few days to the plains of Neuera-ellia, or the
picturesque coffee plantations in the hills that surround it.

_Ladies_.--Ladies, from their more regular and moderate habits, and
their avoidance of exposure, might be expected to withstand the climate
better than men; and to a certain extent the anticipation appears to be
correct, but it by no means justifies the assumption of general
immunity. Though less obnoxious to specific disease, debility and
delicacy are the frequent results of habitual seclusion and avoidance of
the solar light. These, added to more obvious causes of occasional
illness, suggest the necessity of vigorous exertion and regular exercise
as indispensable protectives.

If suitably clothed, and not injudiciously fed, children may remain in
the island till eight or ten years of age, when anxiety is excited by
the attenuation of the frame and the apparent absence of strength in
proportion to development. These symptoms, the result of relaxed tone
and defective nutrition, are to be remedied by change of climate either
to the more lofty ranges of the mountains, or, more providently, to
Europe.

_Effects on Europeans already Diseased_.--To persons already suffering
from disease, the experiment of a residence in Ceylon is one of
questionable propriety. Those of a scrofulous diathesis need not
consider it hazardous, as experience does not show that in such there is
any greater susceptibility to local or constitutional disorders, or that
when these are present, there is greater difficulty in their removal.

To those threatened with consumption, the island may be supposed to
offer some advantages in the equability of the temperature, and the
comparative quiescence of the lungs from reduced necessity for
respiratory effort. Besides, the choice of climates presented by Ceylon
enables a patient, by the easy change of residence to a different
altitude and temperature, avoiding the heats of one period and the dry
winds of another, to check to a great extent the predisposing causes
likely to lead to the development of tubercle. This, with attention to
clothing and systematic exercise as preventives of active disease, may
serve to restrain the further progress though it fail to eradicate the
tendency to phthibis. But when already the formation of tubercle has
taken place to any considerable extent, and is accompanied by softening,
the morbid condition is not unlikely to advance with alarming celerity;
and the only compensating circumstance is the diminution of apparent
suffering, ascribable to general languor, and the absence of the
bronchial irritation occasioned by cold humid air.

_Dyspepsia_.--Habitual dyspeptics, and those affected by hepatic
obstructions, had better avoid a lengthened sojourn in Ceylon; but the
tortures of rheumatism and gout, if they be not reduced, are certainly
postponed for longer intervals than those conceded to the same sufferers
in England. Gout, owing to the great cutaneous excretion, in most
instances totally disappears.

_Precautions for Health_.--Next to attention to diet, health in Ceylon
is mainly to be preserved by systematic exercise, and a costume adapted
to the climate and its requirements. Paradoxical as it may sound, the
great cause of disease in hot climates is _cold_. Nothing ought more
cautiously to be watched and avoided than the chills produced by
draughts and dry winds; and a change of dress or position should be
instantly resorted to when the warning sensation of chilliness is
perceived.

_Exercise_.--The early morning ride, after a single cup of coffee and a
biscuit on rising, and the luxury of the bath before dressing for
breakfast, constitute the enjoyments of the forenoon; and a similar
stroll on horseback, returning at sunset to repeat the bath[1]
preparatory to the evening toilette, completes the hygienic discipline
of the day. At night the introduction of the Indian punka into bed-rooms
would be valuable, a thin flannel coverlet being spread over the bed.
Nothing serves more effectually to break down an impaired constitution
in the tropics than the want of timely and refreshing sleep.

[Footnote 1: "Je me souviens que les deux premières années que je fus en
ce pais-là, j'eus deux maladies: _alors je pris la coütume de me bien
laver soir et matin_, et pendant 16 ans que j'y ay demeuré depuis, je
n'ay pas senti le moindre mal."--RIBEYRO, _Hist. de l'Isle de Ceylan_,
vol. v. ch. xix. p. 149.]

_Dress_.--In the selection of dress experience has taught the
superiority of calico to linen, the latter, when damp from the
exhalation of the skin, causing a chill which is injurious, whilst the
former, from some peculiarity in its fibre, however moist it may become,
never imparts the same sensation of cold. The clothing best adapted to
the climate is that whose texture least excites the already profuse
perspiration, and whose fashion presents the least impediment to its
escape.[1] The discomfort of woollen has led to its avoidance as far as
possible; but those who, in England, may have accustomed themselves to
flannel, will find the advantage of persevering to wear it, provided it
is so light as not to excite perspiration. So equipped for active
exercise, exposure to the sun, however hot, may be regarded without
apprehension, provided the limbs are in motion and the body in ordinary
health; but the instinct of all oriental races has taught the necessity
of protecting the head, and European ingenuity has not failed to devise
expedients for this all-important object.

[Footnote 1: "Man not being created an aquatic animal, his skin cannot
with impunity be exposed to perpetual moisture, whether directly applied
or arising from perspiration retained by dress. The importance to health
of keeping the skin _dry_ does not appear to have hitherto received due
attention."--PICKERING, _Races of Man_, &c., ch. xliv.]

From what has been said, it will be apparent that, compared with
continental India, the securities for health in Ceylon are greatly in
favour of the island. As to the formidable diseases which are common to
both, their occurrence in either is characterised by the same appalling
manifestations: dysentery fastens, with all its fearful concomitants, on
the unwary and incautious; and cholera, with its dark horrors, sweeps
mysteriously across neglected districts, exacting its hecatombs. But the
visitation and ravages of both are somewhat under control, and the
experience bequeathed by each gloomy visitation has added to the
facilities for checking its recurrence.[1]

[Footnote 1: "It is worthy of remark, that although all the troops in
Ceylon have occasionally, but at rare intervals; suffered severely from
cholera, the disease has in very few instances attacked the officers; or
indeed Europeans in the same grade of life. This is one important
difference to be borne in mind when estimating the comparative risk of
life in India and Ceylon. It must be due to the difference in comforts
and quarters, or more particularly to the exemption from night duty, by
far the most trying of the soldiers' hardships. The small mortality
amongst the officers of European regiments in Ceylon is very
remarkable."--_Note_ by Dr. CAMERON, Army Med. Staff.]

In some of the disorders incidental to the climate, and the treatment of
ulcerations caused by the wounds of the mosquitoes and leeches, the
native Singhalese have a deservedly high reputation; but their practice,
when it depends on specifics, is too empirical to be safely relied on;
and their traditional skill, though boasting a well authenticated
antiquity, achieves few triumphs in competition with the soberer
discipline of European science.

CHAP. III.

VEGETATION.--TREES AND PLANTS.

Although the luxuriant vegetation of Ceylon has at all times been the
theme of enthusiastic admiration, its flora does not probably exceed
3000 phænogamic plants[1]; and notwithstanding that it has a number of
endemic species, and a few genera, which are not found on the great
Indian peninsula, still its botanical features may be described as those
characteristic of the southern regions of Hindustan and the Dekkan. The
result of some recent experiments has, however, afforded a curious
confirmation of the opinion ventured by Dr. Gardner, that, regarding its
botany geographically, Ceylon exhibits more of the Malayan flora and
that of the Eastern Archipelago, than of any portion of India to the
west of it. Two plants peculiar to Malacca, the nutmeg and the
mangustin, have been attempted, but unsuccessfully, to be cultivated in
Bengal; but in Ceylon the former has been reared near Colombo with such
singular success that its produce now begins to figure in the exports of
the island;--and mangustins, which, ten years ago, were exhibited as
curiosities from a single tree in the old Botanic Garden at Colombo, are
found to thrive readily, and they occasionally appear at table,
rivalling in their wonderful delicacy of flavour those which have
heretofore been regarded as peculiar to the Straits.

[Footnote 1: The prolific vegetation of the island is likely to cause
exaggeration in the estimate of its variety. Dr. Gardner, shortly after
his appointment as superintendent of the Botanic Garden at Kandy, in
writing to Sir W. Hooker, conjectured that the Ceylon flora might extend
to 4000 or 5000 species. But from a recent _Report_ of the present
curator, Mr. Thwaites, it appears that the indigenous phænogamic plants
discovered up to August, 1856, was 2670; of which 2025 were
dicotyledonous, and 644 monocotyledonous flowering plants, besides 247
ferns and lycopods. When it is considered that this is nearly double the
indigenous flora of England, and little under _one thirtieth_ of the
entire number of plants hitherto described over the world, the botanical
richness of Ceylon, in proportion to its area, must be regarded as equal
to that of any portion of the globe.]

Up to the present time the botany of Ceylon has been imperfectly
submitted to scientific scrutiny. Linnæus, in 1747, prepared his _Flora
Zeylanica_, from specimens collected by Hermann, which had previously
constituted the materials of the _Thesaurus Zeylanicus_ of Burman and
now form part of the herbarium in the British Museum. A succession of