That most ancient and quasi-veracious traveller, Sir John Mandeville, who had great injustice wrought him by the wits of his day, I think it was, who, in speaking of the approach to Ceylon said, that the spicy odor therefrom could be smelt long before “the land thereof might be discerned from the tallest masthead of a ship.” If this be true, Sir John, great changes have taken place in these latter days. We did not detect anything unusually odoriferous in the atmosphere; and I subsequently found that one might walk through a cinnamon grove without being attracted by the scent, as the cinnamon proper is hermetically sealed by a kind of epidermis bark, which has to be removed before it is gotten at. The nutmeg, with the mace around it, at first of a deep-red color, is enveloped in a covering as thick as the enclosure of the stone of the apricot, and on the tree resembles this fruit before ripening. The “spicy breezes” blow very “softly o’er Ceylon’s isle.” [Illustration: _LITH. OF SARONY & Co. NEW YORK._ CEYLON.] The next morning, having gotten a pilot, we ran into the harbor of Point de Galle, which is a very contracted one, though quite secure, surrounded by groves of the tall cocoa-tree, which nearly conceal the town. The town, built by the Portuguese, is entirely walled in and fortified; and since its capture by the English its defences have been increased. It occupies a space equal in extent to Fortress Monroe, and was garrisoned by a native rifle regiment, with English officers, and a small number of royal artillery. These Ceylonese troops are said to show a ferocity of courage when in battle, and the arms of their light-complexioned commanders frequently have to be resorted to, to make them cease firing when the order is given. Point de Galle is now one of the stopping-places for the peninsula and oriental mail steamers _en route_ to China, and the isthmus of Suez. There are two other ports on the island: that of Colombo, celebrated for its pearl-fisheries and white elephants, and that of Trincomalee, from which a great quantity of the teak-wood is brought. We had scarcely anchored when the ship was surrounded by native canoes, called d’honies, which, at a little distance, resemble planks edgewise upon the water, fifteen or twenty feet in length. They are hollowed out of logs so narrow, that the paddling occupant usually keeps one leg dangling over the side. To prevent their capsizing, a solid log, much less in size and length, pointed at both ends, is placed about ten feet off and parallel with the boat. This is connected with the boat by arched bamboo poles, and forms an out-rigger. A paddle propels them very easily, and they sail quite fast.