accompanied, which is afterwards carried to the Adahana Maluwa, a consecrated place, near which are the tombs of the ancient kings and other individuals of the royal race. The Maluwa is encircled by stones, within which, it is said, the kings had no jurisdiction; it was a kind of sanctuary. The relic receives the adoration of the crowd until the morning, when it is returned to the temple.

Towards the end of the festival the procession approaches the river, at the ancient ferry not far from the Peradenia bridge, and whilst the multitude remains upon the bank, the kapuralas enter a boat that has been splendidly decorated for the occasion. The boat is rowed to some distance, when the kapurala takes a golden sword, and strikes the water. At the same instant a brazen vessel is dipped into the river, and whilst the water is yet disparted, a portion is taken up, which is kept until the vessel can be filled in the same manner at the next festival. The water which had been taken the previous year is at the same time poured back into the river.

There is a close analogy between this striking of the river and the striking of the sea by Gajabahu, though what is meant by the dividing of the waters we cannot tell. It is probable that there was something extraordinary connected with the passage of the king, which tradition afterwards magnified into this miracle. Were we disposed to be fanciful, we might notice the resemblance which the striking of the sea by a rod, the squeezing of water from the dry sand, the errand of the king to demand captives, and some other circumstances, bear to certain facts in the Israelitish exodus; but we have seen so many similar constructions levelled to the ground at a single blow, that we forbear to pursue the parallel.

The general arrangement of the Perahara is the same now as in former times, but in the grandeur of the spectacle there can be no comparison. There are still elephants richly adorned; flags, pennons, and banners; several bands of drums, tomtoms, and pipes; the palanquins of the gods; the sacred utensils; and the chiefs of the dewalas, &c., with their separate retinues. The streets are lighted by vessels of oil, placed upon poles, and carried by men, after the manner of the meshels of the Arab tribes. There are several who have a light at each end of the pole, which they whirl round at intervals with some velocity. The din of the tomtoms cannot be better described than in the words of Knox: " they make such a great and loud noise, that nothing else besides them can be heard." The chiefs walk alone, the crowd being kept off by their attendants; the stiffness of their gait, as they are wrapped round with manifold layers of cloth, being in perfect contrast to their usual ease-indeed, we may say gracefulness of manner. The long whips were cracked before the adigar until the present year, but no one has been appointed to this office since the death of the old man whose presence we now miss, and no other individual is entitled to the honour. The whole procession may extend about a quarter of a mile, but this is only towards its conclusion, as it gradually increases in the number of its attendant elephants, &c., from the commencement. The natives who attend as spectators are now few, even in comparison with

recent years; and it would seem that in a little while its interest will vanish away, with many a better remembrance of the olden time. The procession was one day prevented from taking its accustomed round, as a man had hung himself in one of the streets through which it must have passed. The natives are very unwilling to enter into conversation respecting the detail of this ceremony, and say that there are many mysteries connected with it which they cannot reveal. The history of the Perahara is another evidence how tenaciously the people adhere to the Braminical superstitions, and would tend to prove, that even when Budhism was predominant upon the continent of India, it must have had very little hold upon the mass of the population; and this may account for its almost total destruction after it had once the ability to erect the splendid temples that yet emain, monuments at once of its majesty and its weakness. Budhism is too philosophical, too cold and cheerless, to be a popular creed; and it is only its present alliance with its deadly antagonist of former times that now preserves it in the place it occupies as the national religion of Ceylon.-Reprinted from the "Friend," an Indian Periodical. Sept. 1839.

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

BY MRS. E. SMITH.

THE stranger gaz'd on crumbling walls of grey,
And hoary moss, which hid some time-worn tomb,
Mark'd where the sun then pour'd its yellow ray,
Thus shining, still in mockery of their doom;
Then glancing upwards, saw those sunbeams lay
Brightly, on pinnacles which in air had room
For richer rays, which freely round them play'd
From lofty vaulted skies, undimm'd by cloistral shade.

He stay'd not there-a deeper feeling grew
And press'd upon his soul; with noiseless tread
He entered where the lessening daylight threw
A murky beam around, and seem'd to shed

An awe mysterious, and a darker hue,

Within that mansion of the mighty dead-
That grand mausoleum of wit, rank, and power,

Of valour, birth, and mind; behold, and mark the dower!

See where they rest! how crowded in the dust,
Kings, heroes, statesmen, all commingled lie;
But narrow space for those whose former lust
Of power and sway, what realms could satisfy!
The hero's arms ingloriously rust,

Before whose might would banner'd armies fly;
The statesman's voice is hush'd which rul'd the crowd,
The ardent son of verse lies silent in his shroud.

Children of song! he there his homage paid,
Ling'ring with sacred awe and pensive mien,
Near names where glory's lasting halo play'd;

Rich with the rays of fame they still are sheen:
Though dimm'd with tears by taste and feeling shed,
Still fond remembrance gilds the gloomy scene:
Oh! what a lesson for each sparkling eye,
And oh what hopes that lesson may supply!
There Shakspeare, Addison, and Milton shine,
Immortal pledges of a life to come;
Before their works, replete with flame divine,
The sophist and the infidel are dumb.
Is it for nought that wit and worth combine,
And genius, too, completes the glorious sum?
No! when such spirits burst their mortal chain,
They seek exulting some celestial plain!

Yes, it is so! I feel it in my soul :

The pomp of state, the pride and power of kings,
Serve but to show how time can all control,
How reign despotic o'er all earthly things.
Empires may fall, and years may o'er us roll,
The soul immortal still expands her wings;
Strong in her faith she brighter still will rise,
Spurn an ignoble world, and seek her kindred skies!

(From an unpublished Poem).

FORD ABBEY,

THE SEAT OF JOHN FRAUNCEIS GWYN, ESQ.
BY THE REV. JAMES RUDge, d.d., f.r.S.
(Concluded from page 320).

Or the brother of the foundress of the abbey, some further notice is here given, and it is interesting.

Lord Richard, the son of Baldwin de Brioniis, was a stout soldier, and grew very devout in his old age. He gave his lands at Brightley, lying in the manor of Okehampton, to an abbey of the Cistercian order, founded in the year 1133, and procured of Gilbert, abbot of Waverley, a convent of his own monks to be sent thither. In the place designed for the abbey, the Lord Richard in three years raised such buildings as were necessary; and in the year 1136, the first of King Stephen, he with great devotion put twelve monks (a sufficient title being first made to them) in possession of it, being himself abbot. Having thus in part accomplished his desire, he did not cease to be helpful to them in those buildings, and other necessaries, until the year following. On the 7th of the calends of July in the year 1137, and the second of the reign of King Stephen, he was buried, but his bones were afterwards removed to Ford. Now the said monks resided five years at Brightley; but after the death of the Lord Viscount

Richard, the land being so barren, they, with their second abbot, Lord Robert of Penigton, set out to return to Waverley. Passing through the manor of Thorncombe in procession, the cross borne before them, they were seen, as before mentioned, by the Lady Adelicia, or Adeliza, and learning their pitiful tale, she, as sole heiress of her brother, exchanged her manor of Thorncombe for the barren lands of Brightley. The monks resided in the manor-house of the Lady Adeliza, at Westford, nearly six years, until a convenient building was raised for them at a place called Hartscath, but now Ford. The Lady Adeliza died the second year after the removal of the monks from Brightley, and was buried in the new monastery. She had a daughter married to the Lord Randolph Avenell, who continued to patronize the said monastery, as did her successor. It is related of Lord John of Courtney (son of Lord Robert Courtney and Lady Mary Rivers, daughter and eventually heiress of Lord William Rivers, Earl of Devon), that he was a very honest man, fearing God, and no whit short of his ancestors in devotion and goodwill to his monks. His faith in the prayers of the said monks will appear by the following story:-It happened on a time he was returning from beyond the seas homeward, being in the open sea, he and his followers were in such imminent danger, that even the mariners themselves (commending themselves to God by prayer) did, by reason of the boisterousness of the sea and winds, utterly despair, not only of saving the ship, but their lives.

In this danger, this lord spoke to them in this manner: "Mariners! be not afraid, but take courage; behave yourselves like men, and lend us your assistance, who are ready to be shipwrecked, but for one hour, and by that time my monks of Ford will be risen to their prayers, and will intercede for me to the Lord; so that no storms, or winds, or waves shall be able to shipwreck us. Be not you, in the mean time, idle or negligent as to those things which concern your lives and safety for now is the hour that the omnipotent and merciful God will vouchsafe to help us, for the sake of their merits and prayers." To which one of his attendants returned this answer:

66

My lord! why do you talk at this rate of those monks or their prayers, when it is well known to us all that they are now in a deep sleep? How can they be mindful to pray for you, when they are so fast asleep that they are not sensible of themselves?"

To this his lordship, (being firmly established in his hope) replied: "Although I know that many are now asleep, yet I am assured that most of them at this present do instantly, by devout prayer, beseech and entreat God for me, the meanest of their servants; nor can they in any wise, in such an instant of danger, be unmindful of me who have hitherto deserved so well and so many ways of them, by preserving them and relieving them in their straits. And it is impossible they should perish, who have such and so many persons to intercede for them day and night. And because I love them and they me, I do know and verily believe that they do now more frequently and devoutly pray to God for me, and for my safety and preservation."

The pilot replied: "Why do you mind these idle stories? You are at the point of death; make confession to one another, and commit your hopes to God by prayer." And having said this he cast away what he had in his hands, as if he had been presently to give up the ghost; nor did his heart only fail him, but all likewise in the ship with him (except only this good lord) were overwhelmed with despair.

Then the Lord John (and he was truly so called, because he obtained the favour of God, as his name signifies) was very angry, and lifting up his hands to God, he prayed in this manner: "Almighty and merciful God! vouchsafe to hear the holy monks, who are now praying for me, and me praying with them, and bring us safe and sound to our desired haven, according to thy goodness!"

Having thus prayed, God did by his power mercifully appear for the rescue of his honest and faithful servant (who was indeed so, notwithstanding his worldly greatness) in his extremity, for the merits of his faith and the strength of his hope, and scattered the storms, and quieted the waves, till the ship was safe landed; which, when those who were with him did duly consider, they who were before cast down with fear of death and shipwreck, were now raised with joy, and did, together with the said John, give solemn and devout thanks to God, who had saved them for the merits of his faith and his firm hopes in the prayer of the monks. This Lord John, although he was very devout before, became more so, and at his request was solemnly admitted into the fraternity. He died the 5th of the nones of May, 1273, and was buried before the high altar at Ford.

The above extract is from a translation out of the Monasticon Anglicanum.-Dugdale.

Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury, by Balacas, surnamed Devonius (flourished A. D. 1134) from his county, was born at Exeter, of obscure parents; yet so careful were they of this their son, that they kept him at school, and brought him up to the knowledge of books and letters. He followed the profession of a schoolmaster in his younger days. He studied at Glastonbury Abbey for some time, and made great progress in virtue and learning. He was admitted into holy orders, and from his excellent behaviour and sanctity of life was made archdeacon, but by whom does not appear. He gave up this office, and with great devotion of mind took upon him the habit and became a monk of Ford, where, exceeding the other monks in the sanctity of his life and the ardour of his devotions, he was made, within a year after his admission, abbot of that noted convent. He was consecrated Bishop of Worcester in 1181, and Archbishop of Canterbury and Primate of all England, with great solemnity, the 19th of May, 1185, by King Henry II. He built the archiepiscopal palace at Lambeth. He was greatly renowned in history for his zeal in the Crusades, and promoted the undertaking of King Richard I. to his utmost power, and travelled through England and Wales, stirring up and persuading all Christian people to attend their sovereign; and although now of a very advanced age, went himself into the Holy Land. The king and his army were gone before. The