their splendor, at once so brilliant and so calm.

The climate is very much like that of Java, humid and hot, especially
in the southern portion nearest to the coast; it is, however,
considerably more moderate than that of the mainland of India.
Although so very warm, it is equable; one is aware of what to expect
and can prepare for it. Occasional frosts occur in the highlands, but
snow is unknown even on the mountain tops. The length of days, owing
to the proximity to the equator, does not vary more than one hour, the
sun setting at Colombo at about six o'clock all the year round. At
Dondra Head, the extreme southern point of Ceylon, the difference
between the longest and shortest day of the year is only forty
minutes.

This interesting island is rich in prehistoric monuments, Buddhist
temples, and lofty dagobas, some of which were originally over three
hundred feet in height, exceeding that of the Cathedral of Notre Dame,
in Paris, by sixty feet. This, be it remembered, was representative of
a civilization which existed upon an island of the Indian Ocean
between two and three thousand years ago. The lofty, gorgeous colored,
and eccentric temples which the traveler regards with such curious
interest in India belong to a much more modern period. They are
structures which have been raised oftentimes upon the site of former
heathen shrines. So in Rome, many of the churches which we visit
to-day and accredit with great antiquity are rebuilt upon edifices
formerly dedicated to strange gods. Some remain intact, like the
Temple of Hercules and the Pantheon. These Ceylon dagobas are only one
class of monuments, and are to be considered in connection with other
vestiges of vast public structures, the origin and purpose of which
have been lost sight of in the lapse of ages. Slabs of granite
engraven with half-effaced inscriptions in Pali, and in unknown
characters, are still found, mystifying the most learned antiquarians,
while the significance of others has been made plain by means of
commendable patience and scholarly acquirements. What an object lesson
is here presented, attesting the evanescence of all mundane power and
glory. Here are evidences of vast and costly enterprises, such as the
rearing of grand monuments whose legitimate object can only be
conjectured, and the names of whose builders are forgotten. The annals
of the Singhalese, to whom we are not accustomed to give much credit
as a literary people, yet afford