myself; and my favourite recreation was digging there, and pruning the trees, surrounded by the boys and girls of our schools, all of whom were required to assist in this work. It was in this way that we superseded the use of the medicine chest. The whole place was, a very few years ago, a thorn jungle of most unpromising aspect. About four miles to the west is Pannavilei, a large and important village, the station of the Rev. J. T. Tucker, whose house and church are a little further on, beautifully situated on the borders of a fine lake, on the opposite bank of which stands a stately pagoda, surrounded by thick cocoa-nut trees. Its high walls are smeared with stripes of red, and around it are fields of rice belonging to the temple. There is a repose about some of those old temples quite enchanting. The play of light and shade in the groves around the quiet and comparative coolness—the air of mystery and antiquity thrown over the whole-the groups of Hindú women, gracefully attired, and adorned with jewels, sauntering down the steps to the sacred temple-lake to fill their water-pots,—all impress one with an exquisite sense of pastoral simplicity and beauty. But how different the scene when the worship of the temple is going on at any of their frequent feasts! The glare of many torches turns night into day, the spirit of repose and beauty has departed; groups of swarthy natives are rushing to and fro, busily preparing for the ceremonies, all eagerness and excitement. The discordant crash and clangour of the rude instruments of music mingle with the low monotonous chant of the Brahmins, who, in sonorous Sanscrit, are repeating the many names and the impure histories of the idol. The heavy odours of the flowers with which every part of the sacred place is garlanded oppress you. Bye-and-bye a creaking sound is heard, and a confused excited hum of many voices. The car is moving! see, it comes!—a huge erection upon four ponderous solid wooden wheels, rising stage after stage, adorned with banners, and carvings of all kinds of grotesque forms. Aloft on the car is borne the idol, which is to perform the circuit of the village-a hideous figure, black and filthy with frequent anointings: the hideousness of its deformity contrasting strangely with the richness and splendour of its adornments. Rare jewels and gold, shawls of great value and brilliant dyes are heaped upon it, for the wealth of India for centuries has steadily flowed into the treasuries of their temples. On either 3 3 The temple of Sômnâth, when destroyed by Mahommed of Gizni, a.d. 1025, had 2,000 Brahman priests, 500 dancing girls, 300 musicians, and 300 barbers; and 9 millions of pounds sterling were found in its treasury. 50,000 men fell in its defence. side stands a Brahman, lazily fanning the idol. The crowd shout in ecstasy; every door pours forth votaries with offeringsnow fruit and flowers-now fowls and sheep presented to the mighty divinity. So the car passes on, and the procession is lost in the thick groves beyond, though continually some turn reveals the glare of the lights, and it is long ere the shrill music dies away in the distance amid the palmy groves. But to return. Sitting in Mr. Tucker's verandah in the evening, you may often hear the quaint discordant music of the temple instruments, and see the lights of the sacred fires glancing amidst the trees; while every now and then you hear, on the other side of the bungalow, the children of the Christian school singing their evening hymn, in Tamil, to some wellknown English tune. Front to front they stand-the ancient Hindú fane, and the stately Christian church which Mr. Tucker has erected-the waters of the lake between. What shall be the issue of the strife? When shall the footsteps of a Christianized people linger amid the ruins of the deserted Hindú fane? Five miles to the north of Sawyerpuram, across a sandy plain, is Puthukotei, the residence of my former catechist, Rev. T. P. Adolphus. From a great distance the substantial Christian church is seen, and beneath it the simple missionary-bungalow. The district attached to Puthukotei runs up parallel to Mr. Tucker's, reaching to the sea on the east, and on the north to the borders of the Madura collectorate. Most important, indeed, is this part of the field. I have no doubt that some time-it may be before very long-a great work will be accomplished in those parts. There is a curious mingling of castes, and clashing of interests, and variety of religious observances in those villages. I could write a volume on the subject. Proceeding from Sawyerpuram to the south, we come to the river, which divides my district from that of my friend the Rev. A. F. Cæmmerer. I cannot even allude to all the subjects of interest connected with the Nazareth Mission. I remember very well, not long before I left Tinnevelly for my temporary sojourn in England, I was riding on my way to Nazareth through a thick tope of palmyras, and, as it grew dusk, and my native horse-keeper had fallen behind, I felt rather uncertain of my road, for the recent monsoon had obliterated the ordinary track, and I had been compelled to make a long detour. I checked my pony, thinking that, as it was approaching the time of evening prayers, I should soon hear the Nazareth bell, which would save me from further wandering. Soon I heard from different quarters the somewhat strange sound of three bells, and I remained for a moment perplexed; but this feeling almost immediately gave way to one of thankful joy, for I made out that one of them was the bell of Pragásapuram, a village under the care of my friend the Rev. J. Thomas; another, of Mukury, a fine village of Mr. Cæmmerer's; and the third, of Nazareth; and that in those villages not less than 2,000 Christians were called by those bells to the accustomed worship of Almighty God, in substantial Christian churches erected in their midst. When I went to Tinnevelly, Nazareth was the first village entirely Christian that I had ever seen in India; and, as I rode up the street of it in the evening, after a long ride of twenty miles with Mr. Cæmmerer, I was powerfully impressed by all I saw. Native men met us, and made their salaam; and there was no heathen emblem- no ashes on their brows; native women were seated quietly under the trees planted in every part of the village, spinning, with their children playing around. I cannot help remarking by the way, that the little ones of India are inexpressibly interesting. Such bright eyes, white teeth, clear rich brown complexions, and graceful forms! I never saw a heathen child with the Hindú mark on its forehead, without a feeling of deep compassion and longing desire to bring it to Him who hath said, that of such is the kingdom of Heaven; and I never saw a Christian native child without thinking of the awful responsibility which rested upon us to train them up diligently in the way in which they should go. What good will not a Christian education confer on India! How heartless, unchristian, and hateful the system which would feed them with the husks of a merely secular teaching! Our Christian educational establishments in India must be strengthened and multiplied. Blodwell Vicarage, Sept. 10, 1850. G. U. P. THE DUTCH OCCUPATION OF CEYLON.' No. II. THUS was Fimala Dherma firmly seated on the throne of Kandy; and his name soon became a rallying word throughout all the provinces of the interior. Wherever his white umbrella, the emblem of sovereignty, appeared, the petty princes hastened to meet him and do him homage. They hailed him as the champion of their liberties, and eagerly enrolled themselves in his service. Nor did he disappoint their expectations. He swept over the country with a force that seemed irresistible; 1 Continued from p. 55. defeated at every point the hasty measures of the Portuguese to check his progress; and in a remarkably short time found himself master of all their strongholds, excepting Colombo and Point de Galle. Nor were there wanting instances of generosity and magnanimity in his conduct, rarely found amongst those of his race and country. He nobly pardoned several of the Cingalese chiefs who had borne arms against him in the outset of his career, upon their plea of the compulsion under which they acted. In respect to garrisons who submitted to him upon conditions, he faithfully fulfilled the terms of capitulation—a lesson never taught him, and seldom imitated, by his opponents. And one remarkable instance of his good faith and generosity is recorded, in regard to his bitter enemy, Don Pedro de Sousa. That nobleman, having received his mortal wound in the battle which reversed the positions of himself and his adversary, with his dying breath commended his son to the clemency of the conqueror; and one of the first acts of Fimala Dherma's reign was to fulfil the pledge given to his expiring foe, by transmitting his son, under safe escort, to Colombo. His sovereignty being now recognised over the whole island from sea to sea, his next care was to secure its permanence by providing against attempts of the invaders to recover their lost possessions. Three fortresses, of a strength and style of building hitherto unknown to native architects, were erected for the protection of the country in as many directions: and the capital of Kandy was decorated with a new palace, or rather castle, with walls and bulwarks capable of standing a siege. The hands by which these monuments of his glory and power were built were those of the captive Portuguese, who were compelled to toil as slaves at the works of the various buildings, on the battlements of which they might see the tokens of their country's misfortunes, hundreds of Portuguese banners floating in the air, and proclaiming in language more expressive than speech the triumphs of the conqueror. The breathing-time allowed him for these labours of peace was of considerable duration. The Portuguese of Ceylon were stunned by the succession of blows, which had prostrated their power, while it furnished the victor with the ammunition and arms which he most needed. And the viceroy of Goa, however exasperated by the overthrow of his army and the death of his general, was unable to raise and equip a force sufficient to redress the calamity and chastise the cause of it. Thus necessarily ensued a delay highly advantageous to the Kandian monarch. It was in 1593 that he gained the victory which gave the Portuguese authority a shock it never recovered; it was not till three or four years after that disastrous expedition, that Don Jeronimo d'Oviedo passed from the Indian continent, with troops to subdue, and treasure to corrupt, the contumacious chieftains of Ceylon. Then follows an unprofitable history of force and fraud, of bloodshed and treachery. In the alternating successes of the war, Fimala Dherma maintained his superiority. He came off conqueror in several pitched battles. He baffled the perfidious plots of the enemy with a craftiness equal to their own. If the treatment of his prisoners was revoltingly cruel, it is not by the example of Portuguese morality that he will stand condemned. The cold-blooded massacres in the dungeons of Colombo are no disproportionate counterpart of the elephanttramplings in the square of Walane. But though he had thus far gallantly maintained his ground, Fimala Dherma was not without apprehension that the scale might at any time be turned against him by the arrival of fresh reinforcements to his assailants. It was therefore with unfeigned cordiality that he received the messenger of Admiral Spilbergen, and bade him convey to his master assurances of his friendship, and a pressing invitation to his capital. The Dutch commander had been for some weeks lingering in the port of Batilico, delayed and cajoled by the petty king of the place, who was a creature of the Portuguese, and from whose treachery he barely escaped by singular caution and management. Upon discovering, however, that the real sovereign of the island was a warlike and magnificent potentate dwelling in the interior, he lost no time in ridding himself of the greedy and perfidious tributary, and despatching an ambassador to the great monarch. The reply which he received determined him to proceed at once to present himself at the Kandian court, and propose the alliance, offensive and defensive, which the Dutch East-India Company were so anxious to establish with the principal potentates of the island. Valentyn is minute in his account of the Dutch admiral's journey from the coast to the capital. Every where the most flattering attentions were paid to him; every where the most hospitable reception awaited him and his suite. At the boundary of the king's dominions a modeliar, or high constable, met him with a band of music, and led him to a house decorated with white hangings, a mark of singular distinction. At Vintana more remarkable honours awaited him. Six modeliars, with a proportionate retinue and most stunning music, conducted him to his lodgings. The priests of the pagodas paraded before him in solemn procession, and the loveliest young women of the country, bedecked with gold and jewels, were brought to dance before him. Every day presents of wine, fruit, and provisions arrived |