ing of a knowledge of these laws of sickness and mortality, and that the actuaries themselves, as well as the members, have had, until recently, to grope the dark on this subject, and have unwittingly proved false guides to the people in this very respect. Talk about setting class against class, indeed! Would the most violent demagogue in the land use such false and filthy abuse against any other conventionally respectable section of the community? Perhaps the Times itself might when so disposed; for in its turn it appears to have so thoroughly denounced every class, that if mankind did not know the true value of some of its bellowings, England would unquestionably be entitled to the unenviable sobriquet of a "den of thieves." Hear what the Times said, December 28th, 1858, and then, oh ye members of provident societies, weep, not only for your own real and supposed sins, but for the sins of your superiors, and pray for Heaven's mercy on a nation composed of such disreputable elements :

"We must, however, agree with Viator,' (their correspondent), that people may reasonable throw upon government a great part of this blame. The course which the legislature has deliberately, perversely, and obstinately taken with regard to railways has been just that to ruin them as investments, to create difficulties and panics, and to send the shares alternately up and down. This has continually necessitated sales, and certainly created a gratuitous temptation to purchasers. The timid have retired with loss, and the sanguine have stepped in. The whole country has been infested with a gambling, compared with which the Turf, the London Hells, and the German Watering Places sink into insignificance. The result has been the same as in these more recognized resorts of sharpers and black-legs. The clever, the prompt, and the unscrupulous, who put their whole soul into the game, really learn it, get behind the scenes, and, not caring what agents or instruments they use, get the money. The rest, of course, lose it, and have lost it, in railways. The calamity, too, like most other calamities, has been one which individuals could not escape. Thousands never bought or sold a share, and always advised others against railways. What avails it? They have had to lose half or all their fortune, to sell house, and land, and consols, to break up establishments, and forego all the opportunities of life, in order to rescue less prudent friends from pauperism, IGNOMINY, or perhaps DEATH itself. No doubt the worst of all this is over; (thank God for it); the public are 'wiser grown ;' the territory is well-nigh occupied, and speculation has taken other directions."

"

Indeed! so this tremendous vice has merely changed its lodgings, after all! The men of money are merely operating in another direction. As for the trading classes proper, they have been shown up so much for short weights, adulteration, and all manner of "fraud upon the working classes' especially, that we are, however reluctantly, compelled to acknowledge the truth of the preacher's words, that "As a nail sticketh fast between the joining of the stones; so doth sin stick close between buying and selling."

It is somewhat singular that, in the interval between the penning of the last paragraph and the present, I should accidentally have stumbled on an article in the Times on the day of its publication, (May 26,) in which mercantile frauds are exposed and denounced with a just and unsparing hand. The working men will scarcely be prepared to learn the extent to which they are daily plundered by the trading section of the community, as stated by the Times itself.

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Respectable' men systematically sell two hundred yards of thread as three hundred, and honourable men' actually forge the labels of celebrated firms and attach the same to articles purposely made to swindle the public! And this is not a casual case of roguery, but a systematic trick of trade,'

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and actually receives a kind of passive countenance from certain men of professedly high honour.' Mr. Helps, in his recent work Friends in Council,' says, one of the principal surgeons in a large London hospital distinctly said, Half the cases that are brought to me are caused by the adulteration of food!' What is the good of legislation, if it cannot reach such evils as this?"

·

...

We have heard enough, from the Times itself, of the scandalous mismanagement of official personages high in authority, as well as of reckless inattention or incompetence on the part of respectable managers of railways, banking firms, and insurance offices. And yet this very journal has stated that if a certain person had gone about to look for an illustration of a profligate and unprincipled government, he could not have found one more to the point than the Benefit Societies," of the provident British operatives! Of course, the writer is utterly ignorant of the matter on which he so flippantly dilates, or, at least, can know little or nothing of the institutions he so recklessly denounces. He might as well talk of the government of the entire solar system when he refers to some terrestrial political machinery, as talk of the government of Friendly Societies as one either in fact or fashion. There are hundreds, nay thousands of distinct and separate governments amongst them, any one of which has no more to do with any other, than the management of the Times newspaper has to do with that which superintends the destinies of the Family Herald, the Morning Star, or Reynolds' Miscellany! Such random generalization is not only worthless from its falsehood, but criminal in its action, as the germ of truth, applicable to some societies, countenances and propagates the libelous falsehood when the character of others is called in question. I defy any one, well acquainted with the central government of the Manchester Unity for the last ten or twelve years, to say with truth, that he can point to many instances, amongst the societies of the middle and upper classes, to which the terms "profligate and unprincipled" will less apply. In many respects their "betters" might imitate the example with advantage.

Singularly enough, the crammers of the Times, on this subject, draw all or nearly all their information, respecting the imperfect financial structure of a large number of Friendly Societies from Mr. Neison's work, and yet they appear to wilfully ignore the very different conclusions to which he himself has arrived on the question now under discussion. In his last edition, after showing from his own and other data, that "the duration of life, among the members of Friendly Societies generally, is much greater than that of the country at large, or the select class dealing with assurance companies," he honourably and intelligently acknowledges, or rather insists, that “This immunity from disease among the humble and industrious workmen of the country, whose prudential habits are sufficiently strong to maintain them members of these clubs, is only what, à priori, might be expected. The fact of continuing a member of such a society pre-supposes great regularity of habits, otherwise difficult circumstances and distress would ensue, and, from inability to continue his subscription, non-membership follows. Hence, such a member may be regarded as a type of industry, frugality, regularity of habits, and simplicity of life. The member's avocation enjoins on him a diurnal repetition of the different functions of the body in a manner not required of the pampered, the indolent, the intemperate, and the dissolute. He has, therefore, his legitimate reward in the enjoyment of a long, a useful, and, let us hope, a happy and a blessed life."

But I think I have shown enough of the folly of expecting to benefit mankind by vulgar abuse of large masses of men. Those who really deserve condemnation are generally the last either to read it, or care for it when they

hear of it. Those who do not, of course treat the slander with disdain; but they, unfortunately, imbibe the sentiment that, whether they do well or ill, they will be classed with the worst specimens of their species; and, that come what may, between them and the wealthier sections of society, there is a fierce and determined hostility which defies alike the influence of education and Christian sympathy. This wholesale condemnation of the humbler classes is, however, not worse than wholesale adulation of mere vulgar wealth or social status. They are, after all, but huge blocks of insensate falsehood hewed from the same quarry. Every individual man's true character is determined by his own conduct, and not by the average of the section of humanity to which he may belong. I have often been disgusted on hearing a paltry coward, a miserable poltroon, discourse largely, in his puny way, on the courage and pluck of his nation; or a loose-lived, libidinous roué, who, finding a tongue by the aid of excessive potations, stuttered, hiccuped, and sputtered his profound conviction, that the religion to which he subscribed was acknowledged by all men of intelligence and honour to be alone orthodox! It is a true saying that there are bad men among all parties; and, it is equally true, that there are good men to be found in every class of society. The duty of the intelligent, practical, social reformer is, unquestionably, to bring these true men together, and not, by idle and ignorant vituperation, to prevent them from thoroughly understanding each other's objects, motives, and capabilities.

Mr. Helps, in the work previously referred to, quotes from memory a sentence on the subject, from a speech made by Earl Grey, when Lord Howick, which will form a very appropriate peroration to this paper. He says:-"The point in discussion was the fraudulent nature of a certain class of men. I think they were a class of merchants; but I have forgotten the particulars of the question that was before parliament. The substance of his (Lord Grey's) remark was-Never indulge in much condemnation of a class of men. If you find that they are worse, in any respect, than the average of other men, you may be sure that in that respect they are subject to peculiar influences of evil!' The remark has a very wide scope."

Truly, it has a wide scope; and I would respectfully recommend its thorough mental digestion, to all those who fancy they are serving the cause of truth and social progress, when they gratuitously anathematise the shortcomings of poor but honest men; and, especially, with reference to the noble efforts at self-dependence, evidenced by their attachment to their Friendly or Benefit Societies. The "perfection" attained by our "glorious constitution," has been the work of ages, and it seems it is not yet so very perfect, but that a little periodical "tinkering" is considered necessary to keep it in working order. That which is true of great movements in the history of human progress, is true of the more humble efforts of the industrious classes in the same direction; and, surely, we ought not to refuse that courtesy to the latter, which is so loudly claimed for the handicraft of their more enlightened and better trained competitors in the much vaunted, but somewhat bequacked science of legislation.

SOMETHING OF CEYLON AT SECOND HAND.

BY CAROLINE A. WHITE.

WHETHER We call it by its old Brahminical name, the "resplendent,” or by its Chinese appellation, the "Island of Jewels," or sum up all its scenic, floral gemniferous, and atmospheric glories, in the Hindoo soubriquet, "Land of Delights," Ceylon seems worthy of the epithets, and according to the most recent writer on the subject, maintains the renown of its attractions, and exhibits in all its varied charms, "the highest conceivable development of Indian nature."

From whatever direction it is approached, says Sir Emerson Tennent, in his recent history, Ceylon unfolds a scene of loveliness and grandeur unsurpassed, if it be rivalled, by any land in the universe. Nearly four parts of the island are undulating plains, slightly diversified by offsets of the mountain system, which entirely covers the remaining fifth. The north-west and west shores are low, and everywhere indented with bays and inlets; while to the south and east its lofty pyramidal mountains, with hearts of gneiss, granite, and other crystalline rocks, rise up abruptly from the level plains to prodigious and almost precipitous heights, their bold precipices and splintered pinnacles clothed with thick forests, which, unlike those of Europe, are endless in the variety of the foliage and the vivid contrasts of their tints. For though there is no revolutions of the seasons, the change in the leaf exhibits the brilliancy of American woods in autumn, the difference being, that instead of the decaying leaves it is the new shoots that put on these floral colours, and while the old leaves are still brightly green, the young ones are bursting forth at the extremities of the branches, in clusters of pink, pale-yellow, crimson, and purple, which appear at a distance like tufts of terminal flowers.

The Cinnamon Laurel exhibits all shades, from bright yellow to dark crimson. The Mussonda appears conspicuous for its large bracts of a singular whiteness; and the Iron-wood tree of the interior, is a-blaze with young scarlet leaves. The humidity of the atmosphere, in consequence of the island intercepting the vapours from the Indian Ocean and the Bay of Bengal, combined with the great heat, occasions a prodigality and luxuriance of vegetation, which leaves no portion of hill or valley, mountain, plain, precipice, or broken strata, without enrobing woods and floral ornaments of perpetual bloom and verdure. The very crags and wall-like faces of gigantic cliffs are overhung with creepers, whose gorgeous flowers fall in interlacing festoons, or drape them with a living tapestry. The very sand-drifts to the ripple on the sea line are carpeted with verdure. There, hiding with their over-arching roots the flow of the sea upon the muddy beach, the mangroves take the lead in vegetation. Then comes the amber-fruited Pandanus, or Screw-pine, and he large and handsome Sonneratia, with its horn-shaped root appendages piercing the soft, moist earth, and appearing, at irregular distances, four or five feet above the surface.

The thorny jungle fences the seaboard from the inland plains, and on these bask Euphorbias and fleshy plants, with Accacias of many kinds, while the beautiful Palmyra Palm, the Satin-wood tree, Ebony, and Ceylon Oak, fill the landscape on every hand with leafy shade and sylvan beauty.

Wherever the moistening influeuce of the rivers or rains is felt, the foliage assumes a darker tint than on the lighter soil, and Ixoras, Erythrinas, Hibiscus,

and many other brilliant flowering plants and shrubs, add their beauty to the forest's splendour.

While the pepper-worts festoon the trees, and delicate creepers, chiefly Convolvuli and Ipomoeas, interlace their large trunks, the curious and lovely Orchidea suspend their singular flowers from the branches, and even the bare roots and stems, in these oriental woods, are all a-glow with gorgeous fungi, yellow, red, and purple. Here sits Nepenthes Distillotaria in the shade, filling her lidded pitchers with a limpid fluid, the very use of which is still a mystery to botanists. The varnished foliage and delicately-tinted shoots of the Cinnamon Laurel enlivens the lower range of hills at a considerable elevation. And in the park-like openings between them, (locally called patenas), sunny expanses, varying in width from a few yards to many thousands of acres, the tall rank lemon grass spreads its perfumed verdure. Even at the height of 6,500 feet above the sea, the tree ferns rise from the damp hollows, and lift their gracefully plumed heads often to the height of twenty feet, and though the forest trees diminish in height, they are still ornamented with Orchidea and wrapped about with mosses; while the mountain plateau is rich in various herbaceous plants and balsams, and whole miles are covered with the red and blue flowers of Acanthacea. At length, crowning the loftiest range of the hills, appears the Rhododendron; no longer bushes, as in Europe, "but timber trees, of considerable height, every branch covered with a blaze of crimson flowers."

The mountain known as Adam's peak-because upon its summit the primal man was fabled by the Mohamedens to have mourned the loss of Eve (who afterwards joined him in this new Paradise) for forty years-is 74,020 feet high, but three others exceed it in elevation, while ten lesser ones range from 3,000 to 7,000 feet each in height. The roads to these altitudes are described as winding from the plains in the most picturesque contortions; sometimes across a rocky stream, at others clambering over opposing hills, or up the side of steep acclivities, with a scarped cliff on one hand, and on the other a precipitous bank, below which a river glides, sheltered by overhanging woods, or foaming tumultuously amongst reefs and fallen rocks. As the traveller advances he observes the smooth verdant slopes before alluded to, occurring capriciously in the midst of forest land, yet avoided by all trees but the stunted Careya and Emblica Officinalis. The banks of the streams glow with the rosy Oleander, and are shaded by the gracefully feathered tree-fern and the plumed crest of the tapering bamboo; while the forests on the line of road gleam with the snow-white flower bells of the Datura, or are all a-glow with the crimson ones of the Imbul. At times the stem and branches of the Goraka are seen, stained yellow with the exudations of gamboge; and at others, the Murutu surprises the traveller with its gigantic panicles of flowers, from three to four feet in length, each flower the size of a rose, and of every shade, from the faintest pink to the deepest purple.

Day dawn exhibits an impressive scene in these solitudes. Its earlist blush discovers the mists tumbling in turbulent heaps through the deep valleys. The beasts of prey returning to their lairs; the nocturnal birds and bats hastening to their leafy haunts; while the sun mounts upwards with a rapidity undreamt of in the cloudy atmosphere of Europe, and the whole horizon glows with rubied light. Every leaf and bud is seen scintillating and sparkling with the heavy dews; the grass blades are gemmed with liquid brilliants, and the gossamer threads appear like strings of opal. In these high altitudes the air is so unmoved, and the silence so profound, that individual soundsthe hum of insects, the song of birds, or the shrill cry of the squirrel, is heard with surprising distinctness. Hence the mellow, flute-like voice of the Yellow