the Mercers, the Dyers, &c., might again ally
themselves with the practical development of
the manufactures from which they take their
names."

The success of the Exhibition has been
perfect. It is the grandest feature of the age in
which we live. It is the property of 1851,
and must be history to 1852. It must go, and
we wish it to go,—its part will have been
played, and it must not remain superfluous
upon the stage. Only, we do not like to lose
the theatre it filled, since we may use that
for another work. We have a theatre of
glass, then, covering twenty acres, which we
wish to keep; and what we shall do with it,
or in what way it shall be made to pay, is a
problem not quite clear. A coming man may
burst upon us with some fine and feasible
idea; if not, we are disposed to think that
whether the palace go or stay, we may
congratulate ourselves. If it remain as a winter
park, London gains one more pleasure: if it
be removed, the moral power of the Exhibition
will be strengthened for the time that is to
come, because it will stand out then as a
single perfect fact. After uses of the building
would to some extent shade off the
distinct edges of our picture.

SHOTS IN THE JUNGLE.

IT was late in the month of June, 1840,
that myself and a friend (who had together
hunted elk on the Newara plains, and shot
snipe at Ratnapoora) finding ourselves at its
capital, Jaffna, resolved to have a shot at
the spotted deer of the Northern Province
of Ceylon. The only difficulties to overcome
were the want of a tent and guide. These the
Government Agent of the province kindly
supplied, giving us, besides, a peon, who, with
him, had been over the country we intended
to shoot in. When we left the fort, one of
the prettiest pieces of Dutch fortification in
existence, it was about half-past five— the
morning, as usual, lovely. The process by
which our horses were shipped was so
primitive, that I will stop on my way to give
an account of it:—The boats in which
we were to cross are of about three tons
burthen, with a single tall mast shipped
amidships, which carries a square yard. This
is hoisted according to the weather, the reefs
being taken in the bottom of the sail. To
the top of the mast the crew had now made
fast a lot of ropes, which were seized by all
hands; and the vessel thus made to careen
till its gunwale met the water level. Then,
by dint of great exertions, the horses were
made to jump out of the sea, here only
three feet deep, into the boats. Mine refused
altogether until they put a bamboo under his
girth, and fairly lifted his forelegs over the
bulwark. In the embarkation, our horses lost
their shoes; but as all our journey lay over
sandy plains, we gave ourselves no trouble on
that score.

Once on board, we lost no time in making
sail, and by eleven o'clock had reached the
other side, which is the northern coast of the
Island—Jaffna being, properly speaking, an
island. The sun was now extremely hot,
so we rode only a mile to a dilapidated old
fort, and then breakfasted; after which we
set to arranging all things for our expedition.
Here the coolies were curiously deceived,
by insisting on carrying the smallest loads,
which contained our guns and ammunition,
misjudging their weight by their size. After
a good deal of talking, without which nothing
Oriental can be achieved, we again got our
party under-weigh, and proceeded due south,
towards the village of Maniacolom, which
was to be head quarters for our first day's
sport. The country through which we passed
was a flat sandy plain, covered with low
jungly brushwood, with occasional creeks and
hollows, where the ancient tanks (whose
builders are unknown) had once made fertile
this now barren waste. No cultivation— no
inhabitants; but every now and then a herd
of deer, or a timid hare, would dart away far
a-head, disturbed by our noisy followers, or
the uncouth cry of the tank-birds, break the
monotony of the march. It was already dark
when we made out the round roof of the village
of Maniacolom, with its sugar-loaf ricks of
paddy-straw, peeping above the stockade which
encloses its area. The houses are built some-
thing in the fashion in which Catliu describes
those of the now extinct Mandans. A hole is
sunk in the ground, and a pole fixed in the
centre, to which the rafters that support the
roof are tied. In these small huts, perhaps
only fifteen feet in diameter, whole families
live together; but the climate is so fine, that
few care to sleep in their houses— preferring
the peelas or verandahs to their smoky room.
I am sorry to say our appearance was not by
any means hailed by the natives with
cordiality—perhaps a ripple of the severities of
August, 1848, had reached their quiet spot,
and the minds of its inhabitants may still have
been filled with dread of the merciless aim of
our riflemen.

At last an old man came up and told us not
to encamp near the wells, as the women of the
village could not come for water. He said all
the young men were out shooting, so we could
have no guides or gun-bearers; moreover, that
there was neither milk nor rice for our horses;
but that a few miles further on, there was plenty
of all that was here deficient— in short, he
begged to suggest the propriety of our moving
on. Being quite up to the old gentleman's
strategy, we answered, that the ladies need
not fear us (they were certainly no beauties,
as we found out afterwards); that we could
do without his young men, and had our own
gun-bearers; that as to milk or paddy, we could
do without the former, and had got enough
of the latter; and, finally, that we meant to
stay where we were. Having failed in his
diplomatic embassy, the old gentleman retired.