Marble Hill press., 1895-01-31

by evening.
Here stands the cinthona. saying:
81 am the foe of malaria In all eli
mates my bitterness is the slaughter of
fevers.'
What miracles of productiveness on
these islands. Enough sugar to sweet
en- all the worlds beverages: enough
bananas to pile all the worlds fruit
baskets; enough rice to mix all the
worlds puddings; enough cocoanut to
powder all the worlds cakes; enough
flowers to garland all the worlds
beauty.
But in the evening, riding through
cinnamon grove, l first tasted the
leaves and bark of that condiment SO
valuable and delicate that transported
on ships the aroma of the cinnamon is
dispelled if placed near a rival bark.
OF such great value is the cinnamon
shrub that years ago those who injured
it in Ceylon were put to death. But
that which once was a jungle of cinna-
mon is now a park of gentlemen's resi-
dences. The long, white dwelling
houses are bounded with this shrub
and all other styles of growth congre-
gated there, make botanical garden.
Doves called cinnamon doves hop
among the branches, and crows, more
POLITICALLY styled ravens, which never
could sing, but think they can, fly
across the road giving full test of their
vocables. Birds which learned their
chanting under the very caves OF
heaven overpowered all with their
grand march of the tropics. The hibis-
Gus dapples the scene with its scarlet
clusters. All shades of brown and
emerald, and saffron, and brilliance;
melons, lines, magnosteens. custard
apples, guavas, pine apples, jessamine
so laden with aroma they have to hold
fast to the wall, and begonias, gloriosas
on fire, and orchids so delicate other
lands must keep them under conserv'
atory, but here defiant of all weather,
and flowers more or less akin to aZa-
leas, and honeysuclzles. and foxes, and
fuchias and chrysanthemums and
rhododendrons, and foX-gloves, and
pansies, which dye the plains and
mountains of Ceylon with heaven.
The evening hour burns incense of all
styles of aromatics The convolvulus,
blue as if the sky had fallen, and but
terhies spangling the air, and arms of
trees sleeved with blossoms, and rocks
upholstered of moss, commingling
sounds. and sights, and odors, until eye,
and ear. and nostril vie with each
other as to which sense shall open the
| door to the most enchantment. A
struggle between music, and perfume,
and iridescence. OleanGers reeling in
intoxication of color. Great banyan
trees that have been changing their
mind for centuries, each century car
rying out new. plan of growth, at
tracted our attention, and saw us
pass in the year of 1854, as they saw
| pass the generations of 1894, and 1894.
Colombo is so thoroughly embowered
in foliage that if you 60 into one of its
towers and look down upon the city
of one hundred and thirty thousand
| people you can not see a house. Oh,
the trees of Ceylon! May you live to be-
hold the morning climbing down
through their branches, or the
evening tipping their leaves with
amber and gold! 1 forgive the
Buddhist for the worship of trees
until they know of the God
who made the trees. l wonder not
| that there are some trees in Ceylon
called sacred. To me all trees are
sacred. l wonder not that before one
of them they burn camphor flowers,
and hang lamps around it's branches,
and hundred thousand people each
year make pilgrimage to this tree.
Worship something man must, and un-
til he hear of the only being worthy
| of worship, what so elevating as a
tree! What glory enthroned amid its
| foliage! What majestic doxologv
spreads out in its branches! What a
voice when the tempests pass through
| it! How it looks down upon the era
die and the grave of centuries! As
the fruit of the tree unlawfully eaten
struck the race with woe and the up
lifting of another tree brings peace to
the soul, let the woodman spare the
tree, and all nations honor it, if,
through higher teaching, we do not,
like the Ceylonese, worship it! How
consolatory that when we no more
walk under the tree branches on
earth, we may see the Tree of life
which bears twelve manner of fruit,
and yields her fruit every month, and
the leaves of the tree are for the heal
ing of the nations."
Two professions I saw in Ceylon
within one hour the first led by Hin
doc priest, huge pot of flowers on his
head, his face disfgured with holy
lacerations, and his unwashed fol-
lowers beating as many discords from
what are supposed to be musical in
struments, as at one time can be in
duced to enter the human ear. The
prooacsiOp ha1taI at fha door ~ fho