is worse, but because its resources for spreading and naturalizing itself, are, by accident, greater than theirs.  That same analogy he finds repeated in the great drama of colonization.  It is not, says he pensively to himself, the success which measures the merit.  It is not that nature, or that providence, has any final cause at work in disseminating these British children over every zone and climate of the earth.  Oh, no! far from it!  But it is the unfair advantages of these islanders, which carry them thus potently a-head.  Is it so, indeed?  Philosopher, you are wrong.  Philosopher, you are envious.  You speak Spanish, philosopher, or even French.  Those advantages, which you suppose to disturb the equities of the case—­were they not products of British energy?  Those twenty-five thousand of ships, whose graceful shadows darken the blue waters in every climate—­did they build themselves?  That myriad of acres, laid out in the watery cities of docks—­were they sown by the rain, as the fungus or the daisy?  Britain has advantages at this stage of the race, which make the competition no longer equal—­henceforwards it has become gloriously “unfair”—­but at starting we were all equal.  Take this truth from us, philosopher; that in such contests the power constitutes the title, the man that has the ability to go a-head, is the man entitled to go a-head; and the nation that can win the place of leader, is the nation that ought to do so.

This colonizing genius of the British people appears upon a grand scale in Australia, Canada, and, as we may remind the else forgetful world, in the United States of America; which States are our children, prosper by our blood, and have ascended to an overshadowing altitude from an infancy tended by ourselves.  But on the fields of India it is, that our aptitudes for colonization have displayed themselves most illustriously, because they were strengthened by violent resistance.  We found many kingdoms established, and to these we have given unity; and in process of doing so, by the necessities of the general welfare, or the mere instincts of self-preservation, we have transformed them to an empire, rising like an exhalation, of our own—­a mighty monument of our own superior civilization.

Ceylon, as a virtual dependency of India, ranks in the same category.  There also we have prospered by resistance; there also we have succeeded memorably where other nations memorably failed.  Of Ceylon, therefore, now rising annually into importance, let us now (on occasion of this splendid book, the work of one officially connected with the island, bound to it also by affectionate ties of services rendered, not less than of unmerited persecutions suffered) offer a brief, but rememberable account; of Ceylon in itself, and of Ceylon in its relations historical or economic, to ourselves.