bullocks crawled along
in the midday sun, listlessly dragging the native carts. Everything
and everybody seemed enervated, except those frightfully active people
in all countries and climates, "the custom-house officers:" these
necessary plagues to society gave their usual amount of annoyance.

What struck me the most forcibly in Colombo was the want of shops. In
Port Louis the wide and well-paved streets were lined with excellent
"magasins" of every description; here, on the contrary, it was
difficult to find anything in the shape of a shop until I was
introduced to a soi-disant store, where everything was to be purchased
from a needle to a crowbar, and from satin to sail-cloth; the useful
predominating over the ornamental in all cases. It was all on a poor
scale and after several inquiries respecting the best hotel, I located
myself at that termed the Royal or Seager's Hotel. This was airy,
white and clean throughout; but there was a barn-like appearance, as
there is throughout most private dwellings in Colombo, which banished
all idea of comfort.

A good tiffin concluded, which produced a happier state of mind, I
ordered a carriage for a drive to the Cinnamon Gardens. The general
style of Ceylon carriages appeared in the shape of a caricature of a
hearse: this goes by the name of a palanquin carriage. Those usually
hired are drawn by a single horse, whose natural vicious propensities
are restrained by a low system of diet.

In this vehicle, whose gaunt steed was led at a melancholy trot by an
equally small-fed horsekeeper, I traversed the environs of Colombo.
Through the winding fort gateway, across the flat Galle Face (the
race-course), freshened by the sea-breeze as the waves break upon its
western side; through the Colpettytopes of cocoanut trees shading the
road, and the houses of the better class of European residents to the
right and left; then turning to the left--a few minutes of
expectation--and behold the Cinnamon Gardens!

What fairy-like pleasure-grounds have we fondly anticipated! what
perfumes of spices, and all that our childish imaginations had pictured
as the ornamental portions of a cinnamon garden!

A vast area of scrubby, low jungle, composed of cinnamon bushes, is
seen to the right and left, before and behind. Above, is a cloudless
sky and a broiling sun; below, is snow-white sand of quartz, curious
only in the possibility of its supporting vegetation. Such is the soil
in which the