Chapter I (4)

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 industrious explorers have been since engaged in following up the investigation[1]; but, with the exception of an imperfect and unsatisfactory catalogue by Moon, no enumeration of Ceylon plants has yet been published. Dr. Gardner had made some progress with a Singhalese Flora, when his death took place in 1849, an event which threw the task on other hands, and has postponed its completion for years.[2]

[Footnote 1: Amongst the collections of Ceylon plants deposited in the Hookerian Herbarium, are those made by General and Mrs. Walker, by Major Champion (who left the island in 1848), and by Mr. Thwaites, who succeeded Dr. Gardner in charge of the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kandy. Moon, who had previously held that appointment, left extensive collections in the herbarium at Peradenia which have been lately increased by his successors; and Macrae, who was employed by the Horticultural Society of London, has enriched their museum with Ceylon plants. Some admirable letters of Mrs. Walker are printed in HOOKER'S _Companion to the Botanical Magazine_. They include an excellent account of the vegetation of Ceylon.]

[Footnote 2: Dr. Gardner, in 1848, drew up a short paper containing _Some Remarks on the Flora of Ceylon_, which was printed in the appendix to LEE'S _Translation of Ribeyro_: to this essay, and to his personal communications during frequent journeys, I am indebted for many facts incorporated in the following pages.]

From the identity of position and climate, and the apparent similarity of soil between Ceylon and the southern extremity of the Indian peninsula, a corresponding agreement might be expected between their vegetable productions: and accordingly in its aspects and subdivisions Ceylon participates in those distinctive features which the monsoons have imparted respectively to the opposite shores of Hindustan. The western coast being exposed to the milder influence of the south-west wind, shows luxuriant vegetation, the result of its humid and temperate climate; whilst the eastern, like Coromandel, has a comparatively dry and arid aspect, produced by the hot winds which blow for half the year. The littoral vegetation of the seaborde exhibits little variation from that common throughout the Eastern archipelago; but it wants the _Phoenix paludosa_[1], a dwarf date-palm, which literally covers the islands of the Sunderbunds at the delta of the Ganges. A dense growth of mangroves[2] occupies the shore, beneath whose overarching roots the ripple of the sea washes unseen over the muddy beach.

[Footnote 1: Drs. HOOKER and THOMSON, in their _Introductory Essay to the Flora of India_, speaking of Ceylon, state that the _Nipa fruticans_ (another characteristic palm of the Gangetic delta) and _Cycads_ are also wanting there, but both these exist (the former abundantly), though perhaps not alluded to in any work on Ceylon botany to which those authors had access. In connection with this subject it may be mentioned, as a fact which is much to be regretted, that, although botanists have been appointed to the superintendence of the Botanic Gardens at Kandy, information regarding the vegetation of the island is scarcely obtainable without extreme trouble and reference to papers scattered through innumerable periodicals. That the majority of Ceylon plants are already known to science is owing to the coincidence of their being also natives of India, whence they have been described; but there has been no recent attempt on the part of colonial or European botanists even to throw into a useful form the already published descriptions of the commoner plants of the island. Such a work would be the first step to a Singhalese Flora. The preparation of such a compendium would seem, to belong to the duties of the colonial botanist, and as such it was an object of especial solicitude to the late superintendent, Dr. Gardner. But the heterogeneous duties imposed upon the person holding his office (the evils arising from which are elsewhere alluded to), have hitherto been insuperable obstacles to the attainment of this object, as they have also been to the preparation of a systematic account of the general features of Ceylon vegetation. Such a work is strongly felt to be a desideratum by numbers of intelligent persons in Ceylon, who are not accomplished botanists, but who are anxious to acquire accurate ideas as to the aspects of the flora at different elevations, different seasons, and different quarters of the island; of the kinds of plants that chiefly contribute to the vegetation of the coasts, the plains, and mountains; of the general relations that subsist between them and the flora of the Carnatic, Malabar, and the Malay archipelago; and of the more useful plants in science, arts, medicine, and commerce.

To render such a work (however elementary) at once accurate as well as interesting, would require sound scientific knowledge; and, however skilfully and popularly written, there would still be portions somewhat difficult of comprehension to the ordinary reader; but curiosity would be stimulated by the very occurrence of difficulty, and thus an impulse might be given to the acquisition of rudimentary botany, which would eventually enable the inquirer to contribute his quota to the natural history of Ceylon.

P.S. Since the foregoing was written, Mr. Thwaites has announced the early publication of a new work on Ceylon plants, to be entitled _Enumeratio Plantarum Zeylaniæ: with Descriptions of the new and little known genera and species_, and observations on their habits, uses, &c. In the Identification of the species Mr. Thwaites is to be assisted by Dr. Hooker, F.R.S.; and from their conjoint labours we may at last hope for a production worthy of the subject.]

[Footnote 2: Rhizophera Candelaria, Kandelia Rheedei, Bruguiera gymnorhiza.]

Retiring from the strand, there are groups of _Sonneratia[1], Avicennia, Heritiera_, and _Pandanus_; the latter with a stem like a dwarf palm, round which the serrated leaves ascend in spiral convolutions till they terminate in a pendulous crown, from which drop the amber clusters of beautiful but uneatable fruit, with a close resemblance in shape and colour to that of the pineapple, from which, and from the peculiar arrangement of the leaves, the plant has acquired its name of the Screw-pine.

[Footnote 1: At a meeting of the Entomological Society in 1842, Dr. Templeton sent, for the use of the members, many thin slices of substance to replace cork-wood as a lining for insect cases and drawers. Along with the soft wood he sent the following notice:--"In this country (he writes from Colombo, Ceylon, May 19, 1842), along the marshy banks of the large rivers, grows a very large handsome tree, named _Sonneratia acida_, by the younger Linnæus: its roots spread far and wide through the soft moist earth, and at various distances along send up most extraordinary long spindle-shaped excrescences four or five feet above the surface. Of these Sir James Edward Smith remarks 'what these horn-shaped excrescences are which occupy the soil at some distance from the base of the tree from a span to a foot in length and of a corky substance, as described by Rumphins, we can offer no conjecture.' Most curious things (remarks Dr. Templeton) they are; they all spring very narrow from the root, expand as they rise, and then become gradually attenuated, occasionally forking, but never throwing out shoots or leaves, or in any respect resembling the parent root or wood. They are firm and close in their texture, nearly devoid of fibrous structure, and take a moderate polish when cut with a sharp instrument; but for lining insect boxes and making setting-boards they have no equal in the world. The finest pin passes in with delightful ease and smoothness, and is held firmly and tightly so that there is no risk of the insects becoming disengaged. With a fine saw I form them into little boards and then smooth them with a sharp case knife, but the London veneering-mills would turn them out fit for immediate use, without any necessity for more than a touch of fine glass-paper. Some of my pigmy boards are two feet long by three and a half inches wide, which is more than sufficient for our purpose, and to me they have proved a vast acquisition. The natives call them 'Kirilimow,' the latter syllable signifying root"--TEMPLETON, _Trans. Ent. Soc._ vol. iii. p. 302.]

A little further inland, the sandy plains are covered by a thorny jungle, the plants of which are the same as those of the Carnatic, the climate being alike; and wherever man has encroached on the solitude, groves of coco-nut palms mark the vicinity of his habitations.

Remote from the sea, the level country of the north has a flora almost identical with that of Coromandel; but the arid nature of the Ceylon soil, and its drier atmosphere, is attested by the greater proportion of euphorbias and fleshy shrubs, as well as by the wiry and stunted nature of the trees, their smaller leaves and thorny stems and branches.[1]

[Footnote 1: Dr. Gardner.]

Conspicuous amongst them are acacias of many kinds; _Cassia fistula_ the wood apple (_Feronia elephantum_), and the mustard tree of Scripture (_Salvadora Persica_), which extends from Ceylon to the Holy Land. The margosa (_Azadirachta Indica_), the satin wood, the Ceylon oak, and the tamarind and ebony, are examples of the larger trees; and in the extreme north and west the Palmyra palm takes the place of the coco-nut, and not only lines the shore, but fills the landscape on every side with its shady and prolific groves.

Proceeding southward on the western coast, the acacias disappear, and the greater profusion of vegetation, the taller growth of the timber, and the darker tinge of the foliage, all attest the influence of the increased moisture both from the rivers and the rains. The brilliant _Ixoras, Erythrinas, Buteas, Jonesias, Hibiscus_, and a variety of flowering shrubs of similar beauty, enliven the forests with their splendour; and the seeds of the cinnamon, carried by the birds from the cultivated gardens near the coasts, have germinated in the sandy soil, and diversify the woods with the fresh verdure of its polished leaves and delicately-tinted shoots. It is to be found universally to a considerable height in the lower range of hills, and thither the Chalias were accustomed to resort to cut and peel it, a task which was imposed on them as a feudal service by the native sovereign, who paid an annual tribute in prepared cinnamon to the Dutch, and to the present time this branch of the trade in the article continues, but divested of its compulsory character.

The Dutch, in like manner, maintained, during the entire period of their rule, an extensive commerce in pepper worts, which still festoon the forest, but the export has almost ceased from Ceylon. Along with these the trunks of the larger trees are profusely covered with other delicate creepers, chiefly Convolvuli and Ipomoeas; and the pitcher-plant (_Nepenthes distillatoria_) lures the passer-by to halt and conjecture the probable uses of the curious mechanism, by means of which it distils a quantity of limpid fluid into the vegetable vases at the extremity of its leaves. The Orchideæ suspend their pendulous flowers from the angles of branches, whilst the bare roots and the lower part of the stem are occasionally covered with fungi of the most gaudy colours, bright red, yellow, and purple.

Of the east side of the island the botany has never yet been examined by any scientific resident, but the productions of the hill country have been largely explored, and present features altogether distinct from those of the plains. For the first two or three thousand feet the dissimilarity is less perceptible to an unscientific eye, but as we ascend, the difference becomes apparent in the larger size of the leaves, and the nearly uniform colour of the foliage, except where the scarlet shoots of the ironwood tree (_Mesua ferrea_) seem, like flowers in their blood-red hue. Here the broad leaves of the wild plantains (_Musa textilis_) penetrate the soil among the broken rocks; and in moist spots the graceful bamboo flourishes in groups, whose feathery foliage waves like the plumes of the ostrich.[1] It is at these elevations that the sameness of the scenery is diversified by the grassy patenas before alluded to[2], which, in their aspect, though not their extent, may be called the Savannahs of Ceylon. Here peaches, cherries, and other European fruit trees, grow freely; but they become evergreens in this summer climate, and, exhausted by perennial excitement, and deprived of their winter repose, they refuse to ripen their fruit.[3] A similar failure was discovered in some European vines, which were cultivated at Jaffna; but Mr. Dyke, the government agent, in whose garden they grew, conceiving that the activity of the plants might be equally checked by exposing them to an extreme of warmth, as by subjecting them to cold, tried, with perfect success, the experiment of laying bare the roots in the strongest heat of the sun. The result verified his conjecture. The circulation of the sap was arrested, the vines obtained the needful repose, and the grapes, which before had fallen almost unformed from the tree, are now brought to thorough maturity, though inferior in flavour to those produced at home.[4]

[Footnote 1: In the Malayan peninsula the bamboo has been converted into an instrument of natural music, by perforating it with holes through which the wind is permitted to sigh; and the effect is described as perfectly charming. Mr. Logan, who in 1847 visited Naning; contiguous to the frontier of the European settlement of Malacca, on approaching the village of Kándáng, was surprised by hearing "the most melodious sounds, some soft and liquid like the notes of a flute, and others deep and full like the tones of an organ. They were sometimes low, interrupted, or even single, and presently they would swell into a grand burst of mingled melody. On drawing near to a clump of trees; above the branches of which waved a slender bamboo about forty feet in length, he found that the musical tones issued from it, and were caused by the breeze passing through perforations in the stem; the instrument thus formed is called by the natives the _bulu perindu_, or plaintive bamboo." Those which Mr. Logan saw had a slit in each joint, so that each stem possessed fourteen or twenty notes.]

[Footnote 2: See _ante_, p. 24.]

[Footnote 3: The apple-tree in the Peradenia Gardens seems not only to have become an evergreen but to have changed its character in another particular; for it is found to send out numerous runners under ground, which continually rise into small stems and form a growth of shrub-like plants around the parent tree.]

[Footnote 4: An equally successful experiment, to give the vine an artificial winter by baring the roots, is recorded by Mr. BALLARD, of Bombay, in the _Transactions of the Agric. and Hortic. Society of India_, under date 24th May,1824. Calcutta. 1850. Vol. i. p. 96.]

The tea plant has been raised with complete success in the hills on the estate of the Messrs. Worms, at Rothschild, in Pusilawa[1]; but the want of any skilful manipulators to collect and prepare the leaves, renders it hopeless to attempt any experiment on a large scale, until assistance can be secured from China, to conduct the preparation.

[Footnote 1: The cultivation of tea was attempted by the Dutch, but without success.]

Still ascending, at an elevation of 6500 feet, as we approach the mountain plateau of Neuera-ellia, the dimensions of the trees again diminish, the stems and branches are covered with orchideæ and mosses, and around them spring up herbaceous plants and balsams, with here and there broad expanses covered with _Acanthaceæ_, whose seeds are the favourite food of the jungle fowl, which are always in perfection during the ripening of the Nilloo.[1] It is in these regions that the tree-ferns (_Alsophila gigantea_) rise from the damp hollows, and carry their gracefully plumed heads sometimes to the height of twenty feet.

[Footnote 1: There are said to be fourteen species of the Nilloo (_Strobilanthes_) in Ceylon. They form a complete under-growth in the forest five or six feet in height, and sometimes extending for miles. When in bloom, their red and blue flowers are a singularly beautiful feature in the landscape, and are eagerly searched by the honey bees. Some species are said to flower only once in five, seven, or nine years; and after ripening their seed they die. This is one reason assigned for the sudden appearance of the rats, which have been elsewhere alluded to (vol. i. p. 149, ii. p. 234) as invading the coffee estates, when deprived of their ordinary food by the decay of the nilloo. It has been observed that the jungle fowl, after feeding on the nilloo, have their eyes so affected by it, as to be partially blinded, and permit themselves to be taken by the hand. Are the seeds of this plant narcotic like some of the _Solanaceaæ_? or do they cause dilatation of the pupil, like those of the _Atropa Belladonna_?]

At length in the loftiest range of the hills the Rhododendrons are discovered; no longer delicate bushes, as in Europe, but timber trees of considerable height, and corresponding dimensions, and every branch covered with a blaze of crimson flowers. In these forests are also to be met with some species of _Michelia_, the Indian representatives of the Magnolias of North America, several arboreous _myrtaceæ_ and _ternstromiaceæ_, the most common of which is the camelia-like _Gordonia Ceylanica_.[1] These and _Vaccinia, Gaultheria, Symploci, Goughia_, and _Gomphandra_, establish the affinity between the vegetation of this region and that of the Malabar ranges, the Khasia and Lower Himalaya.[2]

[Footnote 1: Dr. Gardner.]

[Footnote 2: _Introduction to the Flora Indica_ of Dr. HOOKER and Dr. THOMSON, p. 120. London, 1855.]

Generally speaking, the timber on the high mountains is of little value for oeconomic purposes. Though of considerable dimensions, it is too unsubstantial to be serviceable for building or domestic uses; and perhaps, it may be regarded as an evidence of its perishable nature, that dead timber is rarely to be seen in any quantity encumbering the ground, in the heart of the deepest forests. It seems to go to dust almost immediately after its fall, and although the process of destruction is infinitely accelerated by the ravages of insects, especially the white ants (_termites_) and beetles, which instantly seize on every fallen branch: still, one would expect that the harder woods would, more or less, resist their attacks till natural decomposition should have facilitated their operations and would thus exhibit more leisurely the progress of decay. But here decay is comparatively instantaneous, and it is seldom that fallen timber is to be found, except in the last stage of conversion into dust.

Some of the trees in the higher ranges are remarkable for the prodigious height to which they struggle upwards from the dense jungle towards the air and light; and one of the most curious of nature's devices, is the singular expedient by which some families of these very tall and top-heavy trees throw out buttresses like walls of wood, to support themselves from beneath. Five or six of these buttresses project like rays from all sides of the trunk: they are from six to twelve inches thick, and advance from five to fifteen feet outward; and as they ascend, gradually sink into the hole and disappear at the height of from ten to twenty feet from the ground. By the firm resistance which they offer below, the trees are effectually steadied, and protected from the leverage of the crown, by which they would otherwise be uprooted. Some of these buttresses are so smooth and flat, as almost to resemble sawn planks.

The greatest ornaments of the forest in these higher regions are the large flowering trees; the most striking of which is the Rhododendron, which in Ceylon forms a forest in the mountains, and when covered with flowers, it seems from a distance as though the hills were strewn with vermilion. This is the principal tree on the summit of Adam's Peak, and grows to the foot of the rock on which rests the little temple that covers the sacred footstep on its crest. Dr. Hooker states that the honey of its flowers is believed to be poisonous in some parts of Sikkim; but I never heard it so regarded in Ceylon.

One of the most magnificent of the flowering trees, is the coral tree[1], which is also the most familiar to Europeans, as the natives of the low country and the coast, from the circumstance of its stem being covered with thorns, plant it largely for fences, and grow it in the vicinity of their dwellings. It derives its English name from the resemblance which its scarlet flowers present to red coral, and as these clothe the branches before the leaves appear, their splendour attracts the eye from a distance, especially when lighted by the full blaze of the sun.

[Footnote 1: _Erythrina Indica_. It belongs to the pea tribe, and must not be confounded with the _Jatropha multifida_ which has also acquired the name of the _coral tree_. Its wood is so light and spongy, that it is used in Ceylon to form corks for preserve jars; and both there and at Madras the natives make from it models of their implements of husbandry, and of their sailing boats and canoes.]

The Murutu[1] is another flowering tree which may vie with the Coral, the Rhododendron, or the Asoca, the favourite of Sanskrit poetry. It grows to a considerable height, especially in damp places and the neighbourhood of streams, and pains have been taken, from appreciation of its attractions, to plant it by the road side and in other conspicuous positions. From the points of the branches panicles are produced, two or three feet in length, composed of flowers, each the size of a rose and of all shades, from a delicate pink to the deepest purple. It abounds in the south-west of the island.

[Footnote 1: Lagerstroemia Reginæ.]

The magnificent Asoca[1] is found in the interior, and is cultivated, though not successfully, in the Peradenia Garden, and in that attached to Elie House at Colombo. But in Toompane, and in the valley of Doombera, its loveliness vindicates all the praises bestowed on it by the poets of the East. Its orange and crimson flowers grow in graceful racemes, and the Singhalese, who have given the rhododendron the pre-eminent appellation of the "great red flower," (_maha-rat-mal_,) have called the Asoca the _diya-rat-mal_ to indicate its partiality for "moisture," combined with its prevailing hue.

[Footnote 1: Jonesia Asoca.]

But the tree which will most frequently attract the eye of the traveller, is the kattoo-imbul of the Singhalese[1], one of which produces the silky cotton which, though incapable of being spun, owing to the shortness of its delicate fibre, makes the most luxurious stuffing for sofas and pillows. It is a tall tree covered with formidable thorns; and being deciduous, the fresh leaves, like those of the coral tree, do not make their appearance till after the crimson flowers have covered the branches with their bright tulip-like petals. So profuse are these gorgeous flowers, that when they fall, the ground for many roods on all sides is a carpet of scarlet. They are succeeded by large oblong pods, in which the black polished seeds are deeply embedded in the floss which is so much prized by the natives. The trunk is of an unusually bright green colour, and the branches issue horizontally from the stem, in whorls of threes with a distance of six or seven feet between each whorl.

[Footnote 1: _Bombax Malabaricus_. As the genus Bombax is confined to tropical America, the German botanists, Schott and Endlicher, have assigned to the imbul its ancient Sanskrit name, and described it as _Salmalia Malabarica_.]

Near every Buddhist temple the priests plant the Iron tree (_Messua ferrea_)[1] for the sake of its flowers, with which they decorate the images of Buddha. They resemble white roses, and form a singular contrast with the buds and shoots of the tree, which are of the deepest crimson. Along with its flowers the priests use likewise those of the Champac (_Michelia Champaca_), belonging to the family of magnoliaceæ. They have a pale yellow tint, with the sweet oppressive perfume which is celebrated in the poetry of the Hindus. From the wood of the champac the images of Buddha are carved for the temples.

[Footnote 1: Dr. Gardner supposed the ironwood tree of Ceylon to have been confounded with the _Messua ferrea_ of Linnæus. He asserted it to be a distinct species, and assigned to it the well-known Singhalese name "_nagaha_," or _iron-wood tree_. But this conjecture has since proved erroneous.]

The celebrated Upas tree of Java (_Antiaris toxicaria_) which has been the subject of so many romances, exploded by Dr. Horsfield[1], was supposed by Dr. Gardner to exist in Ceylon, but more recent scrutiny has shown that what he mistook for it, was an allied species, the _A. saccidora_, which grows at Kornegalle, and in other parts of the island; and is scarcely less remarkable, though for very different characteristics. The Ceylon species was first brought to public notice by E. Rawdon Power, Esq., government agent of the Kandyan province, who sent specimens of it, and of the sacks which it furnishes, to the branch of the Asiatic Society at Colombo. It is known to the Singhalese by the name of "ritigaha," and is identical with the _Lepurandra saccidora_, from which the natives of Coorg, like those of Ceylon, manufacture an ingenious substitute for sacks by a process which is described by Mr. Nimmo.[2] "A branch is cut corresponding to the length and breadth of the bag required, it is soaked and then beaten with clubs till the liber separates from the timber. This done, the sack which is thus formed out of the bark is turned inside out, and drawn downwards to permit the wood to be sawn off, leaving a portion to form the bottom which is kept firmly in its place by the natural attachment of the bark."

[Footnote 1: The vegetable poisons, the use of which is ascribed to the Singhalese, are chiefly the seeds of the _Datura_, which act as a powerful narcotic, and those of the _Croton tiglium_, the excessive effect of which ends in death. The root of the _Nerium odorum_ is equally fatal, as is likewise the exquisitely beautiful _Gloriosa superba_, whose brilliant flowers festoon the jungle in the plains of the low country. See Bennett's account of the _Antiaris_, in HORSFIELD'S _Plantæ Javanicæ_.]

[Footnote 2: Catalogue of Bombay Plants, p. 193. The process in Ceylon is thus described in Sir W. HOOKER'S _Report on the Vegetable Products_ exhibited in Paris in 1855: "The trees chosen for the purpose measure above a foot in diameter. The felled trunks are cut into lengths, and the bark is well beaten with a stone or a club till the parenchymatous part comes off, leaving only the inner bark attached to the wood; which is thus easily drawn out by the hand. The bark thus obtained is fibrous and tough, resembling a woven fabric: it is sewn at one end into a sack, which is filled with sand, and dried in the sun."]

As we descend the hills the banyans[1] and a variety of figs make their appearance. They are the Thugs of the vegetable world, for although not necessarily epiphytic, it may be said that in point of fact no single plant comes to perfection, or acquires even partial development, without the destruction of some other on which to fix itself as its supporter. The family generally make their first appearance as slender roots hanging from the crown or trunk of some other tree, generally a palm, among the moist bases of whose leaves the seed carried thither by some bird which had fed upon the fig, begins to germinate. This root branching as it descends, envelopes the trunk of the supporting tree with a network of wood, and at length penetrating the ground, attains the dimensions of a stem. But unlike a _stem_ it throws out no buds, leaves, or flowers; the true stem, with its branches, its foliage, and fruit, springs upwards from the crown of the tree whence the root is seen descending; and from it issue the pendulous rootlets, which, on reaching the earth, fix themselves firmly and form the marvellous growth for which the banyan is so celebrated.[2] In the depth of this grove, the original tree is incarcerated till, literally strangled by the folds and weight of its resistless companion, it dies and leaves the fig in undisturbed possession of its place. It is not unusual in the forest to find a fig-tree which had been thus upborne till it became a standard, now forming a hollow cylinder, the centre of which was once filled by the sustaining tree: but the empty walls form a circular network of interlaced roots and branches; firmly agglutinated under pressure, and admitting the light through interstices that look like loopholes in a turret.

[Footnote 1: Ficus Indica.]

[Footnote 2: I do not remember to have seen the following passage from Pliny referred to as the original of Milton's description of this marvellous tree:--

"Ipsa se serens, vastis diffunditur ramis: quorum imi adeo in terram curvantur, ut annuo spatio infigantur, novamque sibi _propaginem faciant circa parentem in orbem._ Intra septem eam _æstivant pastores_, opacam pariter et munitam vallo arboris, decora specie subter intuenti, proculve, _fornicato_ arbore. Foliorum latitudo _peltæ effigiem Amazonicæ_ habet," &c.--PLINY, 1. xii. c. 11.

"The fig-tree--not that kind for fruit renowned,
But such as at this day to Indians known,
In Malabar or Dekkan spreads her arms,
Branching so broad and long, that on the ground
The bended twigs take root, and _daughters grow
About the mother tree: a pillar'd_ shade
High over arched and echoing walks between.
There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,
Shelters in cool and _tends his pasturing flocks_
At loop-holes cut through thickest shade. These leaves
They gathered; broad as _Amazonian targe:_
And with what skill they had, together sewed
To gird their waist," &c.

_Par. Lost_, ix. 1100.

Pliny's description is borrowed, with some embellishments, from THEOPHRASTUS _de. Nat. Plant._ l. i. 7. iv. 4.]

Another species of the same genus, _F. repens,_ is a fitting representative of the English ivy, and is constantly to be seen clambering over rocks, turning through heaps of stones, or ascending some tall tree to the height of thirty or forty feet, while the thickness of its own stem does not exceed a quarter of an inch.

The facility with which the seeds of the fig-tree take root where there is a sufficiency of moisture to permit of germination, has rendered them formidable assailants of the ancient monuments throughout Ceylon. The vast mounds of brickwork which constitute the remains of the Dagobas at Anarajapoora and Pollanarrua are covered densely with trees, among which the figs are always conspicuous. One, which has fixed itself on the walls of a ruined edifice at the latter city, forms one of the most remarkable objects of the place--its roots streaming downwards over the walls as if their wood had once been fluid, follow every sinuosity of the building and terraces till they reach the earth.

To this genus belongs the Sacred Bo-tree of the Buddhists, _Ficus religiosa,_ which is planted close to every temple, and attracts almost as much veneration as the statue of the god himself. At Anarajapoora is still preserved the identical tree said to have been planted 288 years before the Christian era.[1]

[Footnote 1: For a memoir of this celebrated tree, see the account of Anarajapoora, Vol. II. p. 10.]

Although the India-rubber tree (_F. elastica_) is not indigenous to Ceylon, it is now very widely diffused over the island. It is remarkable for the pink leathery covering which envelopes the leaves before expansion, and for the delicate tracing of the nerves which run in equi-distant rows at right angles from the mid-rib. But its most striking feature is the exposure of its roots, masses of which appear above ground, extending on all sides from the base, and writhing over the surface in undulations--

"Like snakes in wild festoon,
In ramous wrestlings interlaced,
A forest Laocoon."[1]

[Footnote 1: HOOD's poem of _The Elm Tree._]

So strong, in fact, is the resemblance, that the villagers give it the name of the "Snake-tree." One, which grows close to Cotta, at the Church Missionary establishment within a few miles of Colombo, affords a remarkable illustration of this peculiarity.

There is an avenue of these trees leading to the Gardens of Peradenia, the roots of which meet from either side of the road, and have so covered the surface by their agglutinated reticulations as to form a wooden framework, the interstices of which retain the materials that form the roadway.[1]

[Footnote 1: Mr. Ferguson of the Surveyor-General's Department, assures me that he once measured the root of a small wild fig-tree, growing in a patena at Hewahette, and found it upwards of 140 feet in length, whilst the tree itself was not 30 feet high.]

The Kumbuk of the Singhalese (called by the Tamils Maratha-maram)[1] is one of the noblest and most widely distributed trees in the island; it delights in the banks of rivers and moist borders of tanks and canals; it overshadows the stream of the Mahawelli-ganga, almost from Kandy to the sea; and it stretches its great arms above the still water of the lakes on the eastern side of the island.

[Footnote 1: Pentaptera tomentosa _(Rox.)_.]

One venerable patriarch of this species, which grows at Mutwal, within three miles of Colombo, towers to so great a height above the surrounding forests of coconut palms, that it forms a landmark for the native boatmen, and is discernible from Negombo, more than twenty miles distant. The circumference of its stem, as measured by Mr. W. Ferguson, in 1850, was forty-five feet close to the earth, and seven yards at twelve feet above the ground.