be called, entered on that strife which led to consequences so serious with remarkable vivacity. Professing the most amicable feelings for his rival Charles the Fifth,-"Honour," said he, " is the mistress we both court; each ought to urge his suit with all the address of which he is master; the most fortunate will prevail, and the other must rest contented.", This, which the common sense of modern times could hardly tolerate in the case of two knights at a tournament merely risking their own persons, reconciled Francis to the sacrifice of thousands and thousands of brave men, and to peopling his kingdom with widows and orphans, not to win that which was essential to the happiness of France, but to gain for her ruler what he so ardently courted,-honour.

The memorable battle of Pavia, fought Feb. 24, 1525, fitly requited his miserable ambition. His army was totally defeated, and he himself, after fighting on foot with desperate resolution, compelled to en. dure the humiliation of surrendering his sword in the presence of one of his own subjects, who had rebelled against him to join the Emperor, and to become the captive of his rival. This sad result he himself announced in the following brief but melancholy note to his mother:

66

Madam,-All is lost except our ho

nour."

Charles and Francis ran a race in affected sentiment, and though the former has been deemed the more crafty, it would be hazarding little to say that Francis was equally insincere. The former, on this great occasion, says Robertson, "received the account of this signal and unexpected success which had crowned his army with a moderation which, if it had been real, would have done him more honour than the greatest victory. Without uttering one word expres sive of exultation or of intemperate joy, he retired immediately into his chapel, and having spent some time in offering up his thanksgivings to Heaven, returned to the presence chamber, which by that time was filled by grandees and foreign ambassadors, assembled in order to congratulate him. He accepted of their compliments with a modest deportment; he lamented the misfortune of the captive king, as a striking example of the sad reverses of fortune to which the most powerful monarchs are subject, he forbade any public rejoicings as indecent in a war carried on among Christians, reserving them until he should obtain a victory equally illustrious over the infidels; and seemed to take pleasure in the advantage which he had gained only as it would prove the occasion of restoring peace to Christendom."

Though worsted in the fight, Francis was in some degree consoled by the prospect of enjoying a joyous hospitable retreat

while in captivity. How mournfully he was deceived, and how nearly the disappointment had cost him his life, was told in a former number of this publication, as well as the hypocritical sympathy manifested by Charles on that occasion, not to save a brother sovereign from the tomb, but to prevent the escape of a prisoner.

It is important, however, to direct attention to the quality of that honour which was so dear to the heart of the "Chevalier King." After refusing to subscribe to the conditions proposed by the Emperor as the price of his release, and threatening to remain in Spain to the end of his days, he at length, on the 14th January, 1526, signed the treaty of Madrid. Some few hours before doing this, Francis called about him such of his counsellors as were then in Madrid, and having made them take a solemn oath of secrecy, he inveighed with bitterness against the unprincely rigour with which he had been treated, and caused a formal protest to be placed in the hands of notaries, declaring that his consent was to be regarded as involuntary, as null and void, and consequently as having force to annul all pacts, acquittances, and oaths that he might be compelled to make or take against his honour.

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A treaty thus concluded was, of course, duly violated with little loss of time. The Emperor exacted hostages, and took every means that an artful mind could suggest to bind the "Chevalier King;" yet still he had his doubts. Conducting in person his captive out of the capital," we quote from the Pictorial History of France,' "he repeatedly demanded of him if, on the honour of a gentleman, he was resolved to make good his promises, Francis was enabled to answer boldly, provided as he was beforehand with a protest against every compromising oath or condition. At length, on March 18, 1526, this great affair was settled by the liberation of the King. Larmoy attended him to the Bidassoa, with an escort of fifty horse, and found Lautrec waiting on the opposite shore with the two princes, who were to be left as hostages, and a like escort. In the middle of the river a large empty barge had been moored, where the exchange was to take place. The attendants drew up on the two opposite banks. Lannoy, with eight gentlemen, put off from the Spanish shore, and Lautrec, with an equal number, advanced from the French side. Lautrec had scarcely put into the hands of Lannoy the two hostages, when Francis, after hastily embracing the Dauphin, then eight years of age, and the Duke of Orleans, jumped into the French boat. On reaching the shore, he mounted a Turkish horse which waited for him, and galloped off at full speed to St Jean de Luz, and thence to Bayonne, exclaiming several times, "I am still a king."

CULTIVATION OF THE CINNAMON

PLANT.

THE best and most productive soils of Ceylon are a brown loam, resulting from the decomposition of gneiss or granite rock, abounding in felspar, or a reddish loam resulting from the decompositon of clay ironstone, called in Ceylon, Cabookstone. The soil of the cinnamon garden in the neighbourhood of Colombo (as well as that near Galle and elsewhere, in which the cinnamon tree is grown, and in many places it is produced naturally) is a remarkable instance of the silicious kind. The surface of the ground in many places, where the cinnamon plant flourishes, is white as snow: this is pure quartz sand. Below the surface a few inches, where the roots penetrate, the sand is of a grey colour. A specimen of this, dried thoroughly, was found to consist of

98. 5 silicious sand

1.0 vegetable matter 0.5 water

100.0

The garden is nearly on a level with the lake of Colombo, its situation is sheltered, the climate is remarkably damp, showers are frequent, the temperature is high, and uncommonly equable. These are the principal peculiarities to which the excellence of the cinnamon, and the luxuriant growth of this valuable shrub, in a soil so apparently unpromising, may be justly attributed.

The interior is supposed not to be so well adapted for the growth of the cinnamon as the sea coast; at least, that hitherto brought from thence is coarser and thicker in appearance, and of too rich and pungent a taste. The best description, and that which grows in the gardens around Colombo, and at the other places mentioned, is obtained from what is termed the Laurus Cinnamomum. This is a tree of small size, from four to ten feet in height: the trunk is slender, with a number of branches shooting out from it on every side. The wood is light, soft, and porous, and in appearance resembles that of the common osier. A vast number of roots and fibres run out from the root of the tree, and shoot up rapidly into slender twigs, which form, as it were, a bush around it. The leaf, though not of so deep a green, resembles that of the laurel. When the leaf first appears, it is of a red or scarlet colour, but it afterwards changes gradually to green. The blossom is white, and when in full blow, seems, as it were, to cover the tree in a very beautiful and striking manner. This tree produces a species of fruit resembling an acorn, but not so large, which, when ripe, is gathered by the natives, in order to extract oil from it; this they use for perfuming their bodies and hair, and, when mixed with cocoa-nut oil, it also gives a very pleasant and good light. When the

tree is old and decays, it is usually burned down to the ground; the roots are then seen to shoot up again in long straight plants, much better formed than the preceding ones. The bark of these shoots is

extremely valuable.

It was

Those who were employed to bark the trees were called Choliahs, and over them were placed officers, whose business it was to superintend the workmen, to take charge of the woods, and to prevent cattle or improper persons from trespassing. The cinnamon was prepared as follows, for exportation. It was the duty of the Choliahs to find out trees of the best quality, which their experience enable them to do. Such branches as were three years old, and appeared proper for the purpose, were then lopped off with a large crooked pruning knife. From these branches the outside thin coat of the bark was scraped off, with a knife of a peculiar shape, concave on the one side, and convex on the other. With the point of this knife the bark was ripped up lengthwise, and the convex side was then employed in gradually loosening it from the branch, till it could be entirely taken off. In this state the bark appeared in the form of tubes, open at one side; the smaller of which were inserted into the larger, and then spread out to dry. When it was sufficiently dried, the bark was made up into bundles of about thirty pounds weight each, and bound up with thin pieces of split bamboo twigs. These bundles were then carried to the government stores. next sorted according to quality. The best cinnamon is rather pliable, and ought not much to exceed in thickness stout writing paper; it should be of a light yellow ish colour, and possess a sweet taste, not so hot as to occasion pain, and not succeeded by any after-taste. The inferior kind is distinguished by being thicker, of a darker and brown colour, hot and pungent when chewed, and followed by a disagreeable bitter taste. After the quality had been carefully ascertained, it was made up into large bales, each about four feet long. The weight of each bale at the time of packing up was eighty-five pounds, yet it was marked and reckoned only eighty, five pounds being allowed for loss by drying during the voyage to Europe. These bales were all firmly bound and packed up in coarse cloth, made from coir, the filament which surrounds the cocoa-nut. In stowing the bales in the ship, black pepper was sprinkled among them, so as to fill up the interstices; and by this means not only was the cinnamon preserved, but both spices were improved. * *We hear of Colonial grievances, but, of them all, there is none which appears so urgently to call for attention and correction by the competent authorities in England, as the fiscal

rigour with which this important branch of trade, and until lately, in spite of every disadvantage, profitable agricultural produce of Ceylon, has for several years been visited; which has naturally led, I regret to say, to its decay; and if presisted in, must ultimately prove most injurious to it.-Lieut. Col. J. Campbell.

A RECENT TRIP TO EPHESUS. [THE following singular narrative of a visit to Ephesus, we have received from a highly respectable individual, the master of a small vessel, on whose veracity we can place the most perfect reliance.]

In December, 1840, I arrived at the port of Scala Nova, and learning that I was not more than twelve miles distant from the famous ruins of Ephesus, I felt a strong desire to visit them. I had an Englishman with me who spoke the language of the country, and he and two Greek gentlemen agreed to accompany me. A guide and horses being hired at an expense of a dollar each for the day, we started at two o'clock in the morning. Not having crossed a horse for many years, I ran no small risk of getting a broken neck while passing up the mountains and descending the stupendous precipices which lay in our way. Our track lay over a hard rock, worn down into a kind of trough, from one to two feet deep and eighteen inches wide, by the continual passing of droves of camels, who must have travelled there some thousands of years to have made such an impression with their soft, spongy feet. We sometimes met a drove of them, and our guide then endeavoured to discover some place to which we could retreat from the track, for the camels, pursuing their course without heeding us, might have caused us to fall over a rock a depth of some two or three hundred feet. I felt ill at ease, but was prudent enough not to exhibit the white feather to my companions, who were all good horsemen and used to the country; that which threatened death to me would have been fun for them. Camels generally carry from fifteen cwt. to a ton weight, and twenty or thirty are made fast in a line, and led forward by a donkey. A dozen of these droves we sometimes met in succession.

We arrived at what was the harbour of Ephesus, but which is now a fen of reeds and bulrushes, leading over a space of about two miles up to the remains of the city. The first object that fixes the attention of a stranger is a huge rock, nearly perpendicular, between three and four hundred feet in height. It is surrounded by a ruined watch tower, the battlements of which strongly reminded me of certain scriptural illustrations which I had seen, where the combatants were engaged with javelins and bows and arrows. How this

tower could have been erected in ancient times, was to me wonderful. Broken steps are seen leading up to it and around it. Further on, by the side of a mountain, we saw arches and other remnants of former buildings of magnitude, which continued successively to present themselves for a considerable distance. Some are cut out of the rocks. Here there must have been a delightful parade formerly, elevated so as to command a view of the city and harbour, and about two miles in extent. Large and small pieces of sculptured marble, consisting of parts of statues and other fragments on which the chisel had been employed; tablets and tombstones, bearing Greek and other inscriptions, were mingled with them. There were numerous marble and granite pillars; some beautifully worked, others plain. Several of the granite pillars were from twenty to thirty feet long, and from three to four feet in diameter, and perfectly round, as if they had just come out of a lathe. This granite is of the same quality as that of Pompey's Pillar, and Cleopatra's Needle, which I have seen, and must, I should think, have come from the same quarry. As we advanced and the country opened upon us, I was filled with astonishment at the bold scenery around. It was grand and sublime. Wherever we turned our eyes, rocks, mountains, temples, castles, and watch-towers were seen. The interest increased as we moved forward. Rows of pillars presented themselves, extending for miles, in fact, as far as the eye could reach, which formerly sustained a magnificent aqueduct. I noted several gateways, some formed of marble, over which exquisitely sculptured figures of gods and goddesses seemed to prove themselves immortals, by remaining in good preservation while all was desolation around. Immense masses of walls, formerly making part of theatres or other erections of magnitude, were among the remains.

We approached the Temple of Diana : the massy walls and immense pillars even now fill the spectator with reverential awe, and cause him to imagine with astonishment how vast "the Ephesian dome" must have been ere "the aspiring youth" applied to it the fatal torch.

We went forward for about six miles, over the vestiges of what was in "the elder time" the metropolis of Asia, and the circumference of which I should say could not fall short of twenty miles. Having approached some stabling kept for the accommodation of strangers, we halted and put up our horses. There were two or three miserable huts near them, and after seeing our beasts attended to, we ordered, our guide to provide dinner while we took a walk.

These matters arranged we went forward about two miles, to see the great church of