There were more buffaloes about Palitalawa than at the Park, but they seemed in general so inoffensive that we didn't think of firing at them. We had walked close to them and lain down within ten yards of them; in fact, treated them precisely as we have done domestic cattle while deer-shooting, and except by a halfthreatening shake of the head occasionally, they scarcely seemed to notice us. Of course we all knew that a buffalo provoked was often an awkward customer, and that he always takes a most unaccountable deal of killing; but I declare I had imbibed a sort of friendly feeling for the brutes, who struck me as having something essentially John Bullish in their character. To let alone and to be let alone seemed to me their rule, which they enforced by a surly, dogged exterior, and now and then by a flourish of their horns, as much as to say, "You'd better let me be;" and although they would commonly get away if they could with or without a wound, if forced to fight no wild animal fought so desperately. There were certainly none of the softer graces about them, but I have seen it somewhere said of honest John, that "it's being the beast he is that has made a man of him ;" however, I hereby read my recantation, for Heaven bless the dear old fellow Bull! he would scorn to do so dastardly a blackguardism as that we have recounted of Mr. Buffalo.

8th January.-We went back to Rogers' bungalow, resting midway at Dunagallè, where several shots were fired at a wild buffalo that had contrived to accommodate himself amongst a herd of those by courtesy called tame ones; but he was too cunning for us, keeping in the very middle of the good company he had introduced himself to; and when at last we bullied this Don Juan of buffaloes into scampering off-to the shame of the domesticated cattle of Ceylon be it said-away went all the objects of his unhallowed passion around him, whisking their tails and frisking their hind-quarters as if the soul of Héloïse had descended upon the whole herd. We passed through a gloriously wild mass of rocks near a river, which we had to swim, while on the trail of some elephants, and which just as we struck off they

told us was most famous for its alligators; but we neither saw them nor any thing else, with the exception of G-, who, having dismounted and killed a deer, had the luck to fall in with five elephants, two of which he shot, we listening to his popping as we took our Madeira in the bungalow.

9th January.-Next day we bade farewell to the Park. As we rode through it to breakfast at Dimbledenny, whence (beating ineffectually en route for an horallia, or rogue elephant, at the pretty and populous Moormans' village of Kotabowa) we reached Diagonè, where we halted on the 10th to break up. This was

some miles out of the Park; but there were elephants about, and S- and M- went after one of bad character, and found three in very thick cover; one of which was dropped after a very liberal expenditure of ammunition. He was our last, and so fat a brute that I do believe several of the shots which did not kill him would have done so but for his fleshy defences. Our total return of killed on this trip was as follows:26 by R―; 24 by G-; 22 by S―; 19 by V-; 9 by M-, and 4 undecided, making a total of 104; 64 of them being shot in three days, on two of which we had also to "kill us venison." I think it worthy of mention, as not derogating from the shooting, but illustrating still more palpably the very favourable nature of the Park ground, that our killed in that neighbourhood amounted to near five-sixths of the elephants seen. The others shot on the day of meeting and at Diagonè, were shot in thick cover, where large numbers are neither so easily reckoned nor disposed of.

was

Next morning V- and M- took a sorrowful leave of their friends, one of whom, an officer of the quartermaster-general's department, going to work his way over to Batticaloa; and the other lucky fellow, having leave to the end of February, meant to accompany him. Should this letter prove at all worthy your notice, I feel it would be incomplete without the following extracts from G-'s letters pointing out the most interesting particulars of their sport :

"On the 12th, at Kotabowa, I heard of a tusker in the middle of

the day: had a beautiful shot on the side of a steep and rocky hill. He fell over, rolling twenty or thirty yards down the side, making a tremendous crash: his tusks are thick, but not very long. In returning I fell in with four others, which I exterminated. At Dimbledenny a large herd of elephants had broken into the chenas (cleared lands), and we saw their ravages in every direction. S shot a fine buck on our way, to the delight of our hungry followers. Nothing can be more beautiful than a ride in this country, while the pleasure of seeing a fine pair of antlers rising above the long grass, and partridges, quail, and snipe, continually in your path, makes the journey always exciting. Late in the evening we reached the bungalow, which looked sad and solitary after the pleasant party which had left it.

"On the 17th, in riding to the Pattipalar, saw several herd of deer, but did not kill any till evening, when S-knocked over a fine buck. We started at daylight next day, and breakfasted by the banks of a beautiful stream, devoting the whole day to shooting. I only came upon the track of two elephants; one I killed the first shot. I fell in shortly after with the other; he charged with his trunk curled up, and head so high, that I had little chance of giving him a mortal wound. My shot turned him, and I followed him for nearly two hours, sometimes over the most rocky ground and through the thickest jungle, and at last was fairly beat and obliged to give it up. It was quite wonderful to see the quickness of the Veddahs in following the trail; often I could not distinguish the slightest mark, when it was apparently plain to them. We saw a few deer on our return, and quantities of wild buffaloes, which are very numerous here. Rode to the Navallar, ten miles, on the following morning; the first part through open plains, the remainder forest. Saw two or three herds of deer next day, and killed a fine doe, and ought to have had a buck. I did not return home till very late; the little valley I had been shooting in looked so beautiful. A lovely moon had risen ; on one side was a range of wooded hills, and at their foot fine clumps of

trees, and on the other the dark line of a thick jungle extending for miles. Three or four large herds of deer crossed my path, and their wild bark, with the harsh scream of the peacock on every side, made it very interesting. It was too dark to shoot, of which they seemed to be aware, as I frequently came within twenty or thirty yards of a herd, when perhaps a buck would walk a few paces towards me, and then give a bark as a warning, and dash away with the herd after him. I mounted my horse at last, and rode to our encampment through a mile of forest. We rode to Condawattune (eighteen miles) on the 21st, through a thick jungle. The first thing that greeted our view on arriving was three elephants wallowing in the mud (which was up to their middle), and plucking the long grass, which they carefully washed before they ate it. A number of large white paddy birds were amusing themselves by jumping on and off the beasts, both parties seeming vastly pleased with their occupations. As our shouting at the elephants did not move them, we took my little rifle and began to crack at their friends the paddy birds, and as the distance was good two hundred yards, several of the shots struck the elephants, who at first only shook their heads and looked cross; but at last they arose, and walked very leisurely out of the mud till they reached the firm ground, when they formed as regular a line as could be, broke into a trot, and when within thirty yards threw up their heads and trunks, and charged up to us most gallantly. The one opposite me kept his head so high, that it was perfectly safe, but my shot turned him, and he took the jungle, where I killed him. Condawattune is a small Moorish village, situated on the banks of a large marsh, through which branches of the Pattipalar and Navallar run, and form a large lake in the floods. About a mile from it is another marsh, where we went in the even. ing, and saw a herd of thirty elephants grazing. We killed nine of them. There are quantities of deer, and swarms of pea-fowl, besides snipe, duck, &c.; but we had no powder to waste. We started early in the morning, after a sleepless night from the musquitos, the bellowing of the

buffaloes, and roaring of the elephants. Skilled a small tusker, and we shortly after came upon a large herd, and killed twelve. One fellow very nearly caught me, and I was not more than a foot from him when I turned him. We moved homewards, and saw a large herd of twenty-five on the border of the marsh, when we heard a tusker was at the other end. He luckily fell to my shot, and I had the satisfaction of seeing a very pretty pair of tusks. This was my best day, having killed eleven. Our walk home was delightful. We had a beautiful moon, and at the back of our little encampment Friar's Hood, False Hood, and various other mountains were in the distance. We saw every description of game-large herds of deer, pea-fowl, &c. The only disagreeable-looking fellows were the alligators, which we saw gliding into the rivers we had to cross, but the people seemed very little afraid of them. It is a most exciting life. Our little tallipot tent seems to us as luxurious and comfortable as the best house we ever slept in. The first herd of thirty, which we saw grazing by the marsh, gave us for the time one of the best skirmishes we have had. We followed them into a very thick thorny jungle, where they seemed quite out of their beat, crowding one upon the other, sometimes charging us, and then perhaps ten or twelve of them rushing off with a tremendous crash. I killed four without moving an inch, two charged, and the others waited till I reloaded, not liking to advance over their dead brethren. We were obliged to retreat for want of daylight. After the paddy is reaped, which takes place about June, the plain is crowded with elephants eating the burnt roots, and we were told three or four tuskers were frequently seen in the day.

"On the 24th we arrived at Batticaloa at half-past seven o'clock in the evening. The banks of the large lake, bordered with trees, are flat and uninteresting; but we saw swarms of alligators along them, and fishing seemed to be carried on the whole length of the lake. Groups of people surrounded the bushes overhanging the banks, with bows and arrows, this being one of the ways they fish; and at night the

whole banks were lighted up with fishermen holding chools in one hand and in the other a basket, which they put over the fish on its coming to the surface.

"We sailed down the lake from Batticaloa on the night of the 28th, and arrived early at Mandoor, where we breakfasted and separated, after passing together a most agreeable month. S moved west to his wild ground, and I sailed south for five miles farther towards mine. But I did not see an elephant till I had travelled eighty miles. There were tracks enough, but they were said to be all in the deep jungle, feeding on the young sprouts. After the harvest they are reported to swarm along the whole line. At Comary, a miserable place, the natives begged me to shoot two wild buffaloes, who had joined their tame herds, and were very dangerous. I broke the leg of one, who escaped into the jungle, and shot the other clean through the body; but, barring a tumble, he did not appear the worst for it. Buffaloes and pea-fowl abounded on the way to Pattwille, and near Organdemalle. I saw several of the former, and fired at one without effect, though the ball went into his chest. I, however, killed a fine buck, which was welcomed with acclamation. On the way to the Komenaar, on the 3d, I witnessed a comical scene, which proved terribly detrimental to my wine and crockery. An elephant attacked my coolies a few yards a-head of me, putting them all to flight, and really seemed puzzled to know which was worth most, running first after one and then the others; he came up to me in gallant style, and I killed him. Shortly after I met with four others, and shot them. At Potanè every thing appeared burnt up, but there were a good number of single elephants, of which I bagged seven, besides a buffalo and a deer. I also went up the Mandagal Kande for bears, but saw none. The country to Yaale very flat, with small openings in the jungle. Saw five elephants on the road, and killed all. Met two in the plain at Yaale, and killed one. Yaale is by the side of the river Manic, a beautiful jungle. Went out shooting at daylight, saw, two and killed them; and saw quan

tity of elk. Every thing is burnt up, but it must be a good place in wet weather. On the road to Palootopane I shot six elephants."

He had no more shooting till he reached a place called Madooenwelle on the 13th, whence he writes:"Left early for Madooenwelle; found a very civil Modliar, and a good house. Heard of three tuskers, fell in with one, and killed him; and the next day with the second, and the day after with the third, killing them, with three others. There were plenty of elephants, but the jungle as bad as possible, so thick and thorny."

The remainder of his route was without adventure as regards sport, until the 26th, when, while breakfasting at Nambapanè on the Kaloo river, after a ride of twenty miles, he heard tidings of a large herd, with a tusker among them. He accordingly went out, and in a very thick jungle of the clumpy bamboo came near, though he could not see them. One fellow was evidently very angry, growling and screaming out sharp shrill trumpets every now and then. On passing into a small opening, G— heard, and almost at the same moment saw, an elephant, dashing at him. He fired his two barrels, but a clump of the bamboos making the beast take a diagonal direction at the moment, the shot was a slanting one. His gun-bearer gallantly put a fresh gun into his hand, but in taking it he slipped and fell, and, as the elephant was then right above him, fired upwards under his trunk. The beast dropped over G-, who ascribes his safety to his being either under his neck or between his legs. He says the sensation was what he should expect if a mountain were to fall on him, and he had a confused fancy that the beast kicked him from his fore to his hind legs, and back again. All that is certain is, that the elephant must have been well bothered, and went away leaving G- with his pretty Purdy smashed to pieces, and himself very much bruised in the legs and body, and with several ugly gashes on his face, which was afterwards awfully swollen and discoloured. He, however, rode on near twenty miles that day, and arrived at Colombo next morning quite exhausted; all he could say to account

for his appearance at the door of a brother-officer being the word " Elephant, elephant." By the care of his medical friends, he was set up again in about a fortnight, and is now at this present writing with merely a couple of little scars on his nose and lip, laboriously endeavouring, by every sophistry of calculation, to antedate the period when he may be again at work. Shooting singly is a good deal practised, but of course it multiplies the unfavourable chances of the sport very considerably. Nor does a large party very much diminish them, as after the elephants break it is every one for himself. The safest mode is to shoot by twos, who agree to take alternate shots; but men separate even with this arrangement.

And now, sir, I fear we have given you a surfeit of elephant-shooting; but it was our wish to shew the sort of sport it is, and to assure those brother-officers who may be destined to serve here, and who care for shooting, that to ramble over this most beautiful of created lands with this sport as an object is a good to thank Heaven for, which lightens beyond conception the tiresome monotony of tropical life. I do not think that the conscientious could object to it on the score of cruelty, for the elephants destroy a very great deal of cultivation, and no inconsiderable number of lives. But there are other objections which it is easier to state than to answer, and which I do not deny are urged, even here, against the sport by some who have, as well as by many who have not, enjoyed it. Take them in the words of Molière:

"Si c'étoit qu'on ne fut à la chasse Des lièvres, des lapins, et des jeunes daims-passe:

Mais d'aller attaquer de ces bêtes vilaines,

Qui n'ont aucun respect pour les faces humaines,

Et qui courent les gens, qui les veulent courir,

C'est un sot passe-temps qui je ne puis souffrir!"

After all, what say you, Mr. Editor?

"Lead we not here a jolly life,

Betwixt the shine and shade?"

'Tis sixty years since a thin quarto volume appeared in London with the plain and unpretending title of An Ode to Superstition, and some other Poems, and exactly the same number of years since a thin octavo appeared at Kilmarnock, entitled, Poems, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect. The thin quarto was the production of Samuel Rogers, a young gentleman of education, the son of a London banker; the thin octavo the production of Robert Burns, a Scottish ploughboy, without education, and almost without a penny in the world.

'Tis fifty years since Burns was buried in the kirkyard of St. Michael's:

"O early ripe, to thy abundant store, What could advancing age have added more!"

While the poet of the Ode to Superstition is still among us, full of years and full of health, and as much in love with poetry as ever. "It is, I confess," says Cowley, "but seldom seen that the poet dies before the man; for when once we fall in love with that bewitching art, we do not use to court it as a mistress, but marry it as a wife, and take it for better or worse, as an inseparable companion of our whole life." It was so with Waller when he was eighty-two, and is so with Mr. Rogers now that he is eighty-one. Long may it be so:

"If envious buckies view wi' sorrow
Thy lengthen'd days on this blest morrow,
May Desolation's long-teeth'd harrow,
Nine miles an hour,

Rake them, like Sodom and Gomorrah,
In brunstane stoure."

Waller "was the delight of the House of Commons, and, even at eighty, he said the liveliest things of any among them." How true of Rogers, at eighty, at his own, or at any other table!

The poet of An Ode to Superstition has outlived a whole generation of poets, poetasters, and poetitos; has seen the rise and decline of schools, Lake, Cockney, and Satanic-the changeful caprices of taste

-the injurious effects of a coterie of friends the impartial verdicts of Time and a third generation-another Temple of Fame-a new class of occupants in many of the niches of the old-restorations, depositions, and removals, and, what few are allowed to see, his own position in the Temple pretty well determined, not so high as to be wondered at, nor so low that he can escape from envy and even emulation. Nor is this all: he has lived to see Poetry at its last gasp among us; the godlike race of the last generation expiring or extinct, and no new-comers in their stead; just as if Nature chose to lie fallow for a time, and verse was to usurp the place of poetry, desire for skill, and the ambition and impudence of daring for the flight and the raptures of the true-born poet.

If such is the case, that Poetry is pretty well extinct among us-which no one, I believe, has the hardihood to gainsay a retrospective review of what our great men accomplished in the long and important reign of King George III. (the era that has just gone by) will not be deemed devoid of interest at this time. The

subject is a very varied one, is as yet without an historian, nor has hitherto received that attention in critical detail so pre-eminently due to a period productive of so many poems of real and lasting merit,— poems as varied, I may add, as any era in our literature can exhibit, the celebrated Elizabethan period, perhaps, but barely excepted.

A new race of poets came in with King George III, for the poets of the preceding reigns who lived to witness the accession of the king either survived that event but a very few years, or were unwilling to risk their reputations; in any new contest for distinction. Young was far advanced in years, and contentand wisely so-with the fame of his Satires and his Night Thoughts; Gray had written his Elegy and his Odes, and was annotating Linnæus within the walls of a college; Shenstone found full occupation for the remainder of his life in laying out