think about three miles-brings us to the foot of the real ascent at Kittoogalle, a very beautiful valley, shut in by rocky mountains of great height and abruptness. In a nasty bit of bog, at the end of this secluded spot, Law left us, just after a false alarm of an elephant, and we commenced our tiresome passage of the mountain. It was what I call a counterfort of the chain, and, consequently, as we ascended its side, we had to cross all the ridges formed by the confluents that pour down to the Calany. It was very stiff work, and it was not above once or twice that openings gratified us with a view of the low land we were leaving, deep on our right and rear. It is a heavy pull to the Pittewelle-oya, where a person may breathe a little before he commences his succeeding difficulties. The worst of these-for the horse I mean, as to the man, he only perspires-are the two last torrents, the Hal-oya and a small one that succeeds it. Before reaching these, however, there will be many a stop; the first, on having mastered an ascent that gives a view into valleys on both sides (near this the Colonel's horse slipped over the edge, and, but for the trees, might have travelled some hundred feet downwards very rapidly); and again repeatedly, as openings on the right show the clearly-defined and noble valleys down which the Calany, and its main confluent from upper Bertalgamme, descend from the Peak and uplands, which rise majestically, covered with their unbroken forests.

Near the top of the ascent, after having passed the opening down which the Calany comes, though the cleft over the mountain-ridge is still visible, we open fully on the valley of the confluent; a few miles up which, a magnificent fall is seen pouring down-even in this dry season-in a glorious and extensive sheet of foam. It must be a matchless cataract, and if ever I can see it when full, I will make the journey for that purpose solely. As well as I could make out from my guide, it is called the Weddy-ila-ella (I suspect I have confused the fall of the Calany, of this name, with the fall of its confluent-the name belongs decidedly to that of the Calany). There never was a finer background to a prospect than that formed in this neighbourhood by the Peak. The ascent of a rough bit brings one to an open spot, perfumed highly with the lemon-grass, near which a nullah, descending to the left, tells us our troubles are almost at an end; and after a second ascent up the lemon-grass cap, we turn the ridge, and bid adieu to the grand objects we have looked on, to look over the rounded hills and ridges of Kotmalé and the little village of Ambagam, its paddy fields, and the brook-like Mahavilla right down below us, with the glorious Ramboddi and other mountains bounding our horizon.

The descent to Ambagam was nothing, perhaps 900 or 1,000 feet, with only a few bad bits in it. Our people were not up till past three, but we were determined to push on, and set off for Pasbage. We brought up after about six miles, in a rice store, among paddy fields. The ride was a very charming one; and the view over the river, to the round and woody Kotmale range and the distant Ramboddi hills, was particularly new and lovely. Two streams (one, the Ooroocood-oya, a considerable one) come down the river from the ridge on our left, directly from a gap that seems to offer an easy passage. The ther

mometer, when we arose next morning, stood at 62°. I think it was full ten miles or more to Gampola, the road bad enough, and some places both rock and slough difficult. The elephant fences were here a great annoyance, and in the part of the country called Atiul these animals are said to be numerous and troublesome. The river is rocky, especially below its junction with the Kotmalē, which comes into it about two or three miles below our resting-place. The latter seems to wind its course through very bold and difficult ground, which rises as it recedes southward, till its highest point, called Unacooda, terminates a long forest sweep in a little peak that cannot be much lower than that of Adam. The latter bit of wood, through Mr. Bird's coffee plantation, is good, and we reached Gampola at about ten o'clock.

After looking at so much of the new road as is cut, and trying in vain to see Aitchison, we got into a boat, and dropped down pleasantly enough to Peradinia, where we arrived at three, and at four I reached Colonel Clifford's, at Kandy. My object in going this way, was to form a notion of the difficulties of a direct road between Colombo and Nuwera Ellia, in case the latter becomes a station. The distance from Colombo to Nuwera Ellia by Kandy is now 130 miles. By Ruanwelle, Ambagam, and Pasbage it would be 94, and this would be diminished at least six miles by leaving Ruanwelle alone, and leading a path from Sitawacka up the Algodda-Gunga to Abootgam, and thence under the hills to Cummunjana and down the oya of that name, round the base of the Pillele-gamee hills, cutting in on the present path anywhere about the junction of the Ellise-oya. It could be made eighty-eight miles, and if the ground between the Ellise and Calany be the level stuff which Fraser's district map represents it (which I altogether doubt), much of the worst of it (the Ellise bit) could be altogether avoided. But, of course, if ever it becomes a station, a road to Nuwera Ellia of eighty-eight miles, and a road from it of forty-four, and then the rest by water, would be of extreme advantage. We must remember that the road to Ramboddi will be open, and the old road to Airsavellē easily made practicable. The difficulties from Ambagam to Pasbage are trifling, and a good criterion of the cost of this part of the road may be drawn from the present one from Gampola to Peradinia. From Pasbage to Ramboddi, Aitchison must tell us I guess it must be like that from Gampola to Ramboddi -good stuff to work on, but all requiring to go into the solid. The difficult bit is from the Sitawacka to the Mahavilla at Ambagam, about thirty miles of very intersected country, with an ascent of near 3,000 feet and a descent of half as much, with an unfair proportion of rock distributed throughout it; but it would be idle to conjecture its difficulties from those of the path we followed, as the direct road "thro' flood, thro' fire, o'er bush, o'er briar," is always that of the native Kandians. Several bridges would be required-and those expensive ones-and lots of gunpowder must be expended on either side of the river; but I am inclined to think that the left bank of the Calany, in continuation of the road from Sitawacka, would be found more workable, and far less intersected, than the right, when a ferry at Tullagamma could easily be established.

Supposing Nuwera Ellia a station, troops would go from Colombo to it in eight days, instead of fourteen by Kandy, and they would come down in four; stores, &c., would travel at the same rate, and, so far as they could go by water, near half-way at a proportionately cheap rate of one to ten of the present expense. An officer called to Colombo, would ride down the mountain-passes in six hours, and drop down in a boat in from sixteen to twenty more; and whatever intercourse of commerce there is to be between the lower and higher country, would profit proportionally. Sir John thought, justly, that the straight line from Ambagam to Nuwera Ellia would pass by Dimbola, and up the hills through which the Poondool comes; but the ground between Ambagam and Dimbola is so high and difficult, that the natives themselves round the hill with the river, to go from one place to the other. As to the Poondool path, it is a very stiff pull; but the other side of the hill should be looked after. If the Ambagam were opened, it would give, with a porterage of twenty-eight miles, a water communication between Kandy and Colombo, and a good road for idle people within thirty-two miles of the top of the Peak-the rest passing by my splendid fall. It is the true military line into the heart of the country, of the advantage of which no soldier can be ignorant.

I remained two days at Kandy to recruit. People seemed to think it an odd cure for fever, and my own sensations were by no means too convincing that the remedy was actually a specific. I was at Kandy two whole days, and found its climate delightful, always excepting its mid-day glare. Its situation is certainly one of the most beautiful that one sees. Colonel T- drove me out to Peradinia. There seems more of the pedantry of science in some things there, than of the determined exertion which so critical a case demands. It looked strange, considering the time and great means at the disposal of these gentlemen, to see only a single row of piles in the water, and that one not fixed; and it appeared an extraordinary method of carrying on work, to fix these huge trees together by a tie-beam, at a considerable distance up the stream, so as to have to move and lift their collected weight in order to fix them, rather than to fix them singly and then connect them. A stage, too, of Mr Oldershaw's, for the pile-driver, having given way, he would not prop it with any of the hundred trees lying round him, but delays the work till sixteen blocks arrive from Colombo. In the meantime, however, Mr. M's and Mr. H's houses are being made very comfortable. Altogether, I wish the infernal work were done, and that it was fairly fixed to stand its time, and show the world how many thousands are the price of a wooden bridge for a few years.

The Pavilion, too-another monument of Sir Edward's grand ideas. "Si monumentum quæris, circumspice!" was Mr. Justice Marshall's laudatory exclamation. I would make the "monumentum" plural, and point to the Pavilion, to Peradinia, and to the tunnel, all within a radius of two miles, and then walk through the crumbling barracks, magazines, laboratory, and officers' quarters in Kandy, with the requisitions "for the general service of the interior" in my hand, and ask, indeed, if these were not the monuments of a blasted and buried repu

tation. Self! self!! self!!! the comfort or vanity of the individual instigated all he did; and it is not less true than disgusting, that when the engineers begged him not to hurry matters at the Pavilion, saying the green wood would rot almost at once-" Get on, get on,' he said, "it will last my time." It sickens one to see this beautiful little world the plaything of such hollow-hearted selfishness.

I reached Kandy on the Friday afternoon, and left it on the Monday morning with Lillie, who came with me to Ootooang-Kande, where we breakfasted with his friend Robertson, looking at the Marvanella bridge on the way. I should think larger piers, of the same sort as those at M—, would have stood at Peradinia, or at all events on the river; for one cannot help thinking, in a country like this, the same bridge might have served for the Kadoganava and Kornegalle roads. It was a lovely morning, but the pass looked tame after the grander features of the Ambagam. I am almost spoiled for beauty of this kind. I was carried in a chair from Balapane; where, at half-past three, I mounted my good old horse, and made across the country by Aranderre, where I cut in on the old Kandy road to Ruanwellē, making 47 miles this day -not bad for an invalid, in a tropical climate. Law's people met me with chools, and I came in state at half-past seven. This bit between Balapanē and Ruanwelle (about fourteen, perhaps sixteen, miles) is interesting. Very little would open it. Law, good fellow as he is, has almost done his six miles; and the advantage would be, to give so much water-carriage up and down-forty-two miles-and then the boat. For heavy goods, a boat carrying sixty ammomums of aracanuts, costs from sixteen to eighteen dollars the trip. It would take sixten or eighteen bullock-bandies to carry this; so it is as 18 dollars against 130. A great part of this road to Aranderre was capital jungle-path; parts rough, and a steep descent to the Narangodaella (which, doubtless, may be turned) very bad. I had to get off three times. Cross the Gooroogood-oya at Aranderre, a pretty hill spot, with the ruins of a fort, occupied by four Lascoyrns. This was formerly a Dutch and Portuguese post. The old road from this is pretty good, but stony and slabby occasionally. The jungle high, dry, and what Í call bad caste; some of the bits of it smelt like hartshorn.

The Oodoogama-oya would want a bridge. Six miles from Ruanwalle, Law's good bit begins, interrupted only by a few small watercourses, and one good stream. A very trifling expense would open this road. Huge pile-trestles with ring-posts, leaving a good water-way, would make sufficient bridges for almost all the streams. I left Ruanwellé in a double canoe-boat at six o'clock, and left the monsters who worked it, at Cadowelle, at seven at night. Thence I walked to the bridge of boots, and rode in, arriving at Kew at ten o'clock. The river was at its lowest, and the men were constantly jumping out at the shallows and small stony falls, three times within the first hour. There is an awkward bend and rapid at Carrewalmemta, one-and-three-quarter hours from Ruanwelle; another bad rocky bit a quarter-of-an-hour farther; another, ten minutes beyond this, soon after which we passed the junction of the Sittawacka river, just above the Ratmalwetty rapid, a rather rough customer. The river here is nearly 80 yards broad. At U. S. MAG., No. 310, SEPTEMBER, 1854.

H

some distance before us the hills seem to cross the river's course in an unbroken wall; and it is only as one closes on them that the chasm through which the river escapes becomes visible.

The stream, as it turns, narrows to 30 yards; and you find yourself at once out of all sun and glare, gliding silently along, with magnificent walls of rock and forest rising upon either side, and shedding down their gloom on the blackened stream. The bed is all rock, and deep; and it is only the occasional circling ripple which marks the slant of its rocky bed, and leads one to think of the glorious scene this narrow channel must exhibit when the force of a flood is hurled among its rocks. Trees of all sizes are stuck and rifted in the rocks, in all positions, and in such profusion that, at a turn where you see the remblai of both banks in the same line, it looks as if the river were impeded by them. The effect of the 20 minutes' passage through this Dumbaka-dewa narrow, with its deep glassy stream, and its shade and coolness, is delightful; but in the floods it must be magnificent. As we glided down, a boat passed us; and, as it came silently up the stream, it seemed to associate itself with the voiceless motion that pervaded the stream-but the blackguards spoke. How easily romance is floored! When I say voiceless, I am wrong: there is an incessant high and musical chirrup of a single bird, which seems to me to mark the silence of all other things more palpably.

As we debouched, we entered on the Hina Corle; and, passing the Saddooella-a shallow and fall-seemed to be quitting the hills, a single rounded one appearing in front. The two Rangwella-ellas (the Ooda and Para), which we passed about half-past ten, are bad; the second the worst, and the only place where I was obliged to get out, as well as my crew. A mile or so beyond it is the Boolabalane-galle, a stone on which the Kandians left their vetel, to exchange it with the Dutch. The cocoa-nuts begin to fringe the banks-slow work-shallow and bumping. At four we passed the Didermagalle, the thundering or warring rock, which the boatmen consider dangerous in floods; and the Rasapanegalle, another rock, at a quarter to six, where the river comes to a narrow, and widens again directly. At something past six I left my crew, swearing loudly, and only withheld by the dread of the Fiscal from licking them all round. I walked seven miles, and rode four; and, having washed and slept, was welcomed by Sir John next morning at breakfast, or rather at the review of the Rifles.

RAMBLES IN THE ÆGEAN.

(Continued from page 601, No. 309.)

A GREEK betrothal is a very solemn ceremony, at which priests are called in, as if for a marriage. It may be years after before the lovers marry. If the swain turns out a mere Lothario, woe betide him! He is excommunicated, and subjects himself to all sorts of pains and penalties. In the good old times, he was put in prison, till he agreed to take the lady.

We went afterwards to the house of the bridegroom, and found him