We have thought it right to direct the reader’s eye upon this correction of the common problem as to this or that place—­Ceylon for example—­answering to this or that classical name—­because, in fact, the problem is more subtle than it appears to be.  If you are asked whether you believe in the unicorn, undoubtedly you are within the letter of the truth in replying that you do; for there are several varieties of large animals which carry a single horn in the forehead.[15] But, virtually, by such an answer you would countenance a falsehood or a doubtful legend, since you are well aware that, in the idea of an unicorn, your questioner included the whole traditionary character of the unicorn, as an antagonist and emulator of the lion, &c.; under which fanciful description, this animal is properly ranked with the griffin, the mermaid, the basilisk, the dragon—­and sometimes discussed in a supplementary chapter by the current zoologies, under the idea of heraldic and apocryphal natural history.  When asked, therefore, whether Ceylon is Taprobane, the true answer is, not by affirmation simply, nor by negation simply, but by both at once; it is, and it is not.  Taprobane includes much of what belongs to Ceylon, but also more, and also less.  And this case is a type of many others standing in the same logical circumstances.

[15] Unicorn:  and strange it is, that, in ancient dilapidated monuments of the Ceylonese, religious sculptures, &c., the unicorn of Scotland frequently appears according to its true heraldic (i.e. fabulous) type.

But, secondly, as to Ceylon being the local representative of Paradise, we may say, as the courteous Frenchman did to Dr Moore, upon the Doctor’s apologetically remarking of a word which he had used, that he feared it was not good French—­“Non, Monsieur, il n’est pas; mais il merite bien l’etre.”  Certainly, if Ceylon was not, at least it ought to have been, Paradise; for at this day there is no place on earth which better supports the paradisiacal character (always excepting Lapland, as an Upsal professor observes, and Wapping, as an old seaman reminds us) than this Pandora of islands, which the Hindoos call Lanka, and Europe calls Ceylon.  We style it the “Pandora” of islands, because, as all the gods of the heathen clubbed their powers in creating that ideal woman—­clothing her with perfections, and each separate deity subscribing to her dowery some separate gift—­not less conspicuous, and not less comprehensive, has been the bounty of Providence, running through the whole diapason of possibilities, to this all-gorgeous island.  Whatsoever it is that God has given by separate allotment and partition to other sections of the planet, all this he has given cumulatively and redundantly to Ceylon.  Was she therefore happy, was Ceylon happier than other regions, through this hyper-tropical munificence of her Creator?  No, she was not; and the reason was, because idolatrous darkness had planted curses