REGISTER OF WEATHER AT THE MADAWELLATENNE ESTATE

FOR JULY 1840.

Madawellatenne, near Kandy,

July 31st 1840.

DIARY KEPT IN THE VALE OF DOOMBERA-NEAR KANDY.

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July 15th to 22nd.—Strong winds and frequent flying showers have prevailed during this week. Thermometer average 72v 6 A. M. 75o 2 P. M. 73 6 P. M. Operations. All the Estates in this part of the country are taking advan. tage of the cool showery weather to form nurseries and plant out young trees, in which considerable progress has been made. The old plants are, with few exceptions, looking remarkably well, and the berries, under the weight of which their boughs are bending, are fast filling out. The health of the neighbouring estates is decidedly better, though there are still cases of fever and dysentry occurring.

July 23rd to 31st-During the early part of this week we had heavy rains and strong breezes, with cool, cloudy mornings: Thermometer average 71 6 A.M. 73 2 P. M. 72, 6 P. M., Operations are confined to planting out, and form. ing nurseries as last week. Every one is busily occupied at this work for we cannot calculaté úpon à lòng continuance of these cool days, 30 favorable to the growth of the young plants. The weather already appears to he breaking up. No decided improvement in the general health of these Estates though cases of fever are less frequent.

August 1st to 7th-During this week very strong winds from the S. W. have prevailed accompanied by clouds and light showers. Altogether the climate has been very cool and pleasant. Thermometer average 72 6 a. m. 750 2 P. M. 74. 8 P. M. Operations same as last week. Though much rain has not fallen the little that has, and the cloudy weather that accompanied it, have been of great use to newly planted parts, nurseries, &c., by allowing their roots to take easy hold of the ground and to draw, some nourishinent and strength before the dry weather set in. All trees in bearing are looking well and the, fruit is progressing in size... Notwithstanding the cool weather we have hard, intermittent fevers are still prevalent with colds and coughs; sufficient rain has not yet fallen to produce a healthy state of the atmosphere.

August 8th to 15th-Fair and dry during this period with a little windy weather and distant thunder on one or two evenings, otherwise is has been fire with a hot bright sun during the day and strong drying wind from the S. W.-Thermom. aver. 750 6 A. M. 780 2 P. M. 76v 8, P. M. Operations. This dry weather is all-important for cleaning both old and newly planted estates, on which weeds and jungle have sprung up during the recent rains, also for clearing such land as may be required for planting. In both of these much is being done on the surrounding estates.-Fevers and colds still hang about, though upon the whole, the country is in an improved ŝtätə of health, B. D.

Vale of Doombera, August 16th, 1840.

COLOMBO:

PBINTED AT THE HERALD FEESS.

AMONG the signs which portended the fall of Roman greatness, the eloquent historian of the Decline and Fall of that mighty empire remarks the state of literature. "The name of Poet was almost forgotten; that of Orator was usurped by the sophists. A cloud of critics, of compilers, of commentators, darkened the face of learning; and the decline of genius was followed by the corruption of taste.”

More than a quarter of a century has passed away since, aš g youthful"Reader," I first pérased these striking sentences. I could not but feel then, as now, their close application to the state of literature in our own country,--for now, at least, forty years, -from the commencement of the nineteenth century. The resemblance becomes more striking every successive year. But we have not yet arrived at this final state of English literature. "Critics and compilers and commentators darken the face of learning." Modern publications dilute it. The divinity of genius ist overclouded by the spirit of excitement. Like the Greek sophists of old, we seek after nothing but that which is new. Yet we had, and we still have, poets who have struck the lyre with the bold hand of inspiration. We have had, and we still have, orators whose lips have breathed, and breathe, manly eloquence. The most brilliant oratory, however, has been but too often sullied by the disingenuous and sophistical spirit of party; and the most etherial poetry has been overcast by an opaque cloud of erities. Compilations form the staple commodity of our modern literature. The novelist has usurped the place of the moralist. Our most ancient and glorious poets are almost buried and lost, and, were they not immortal spirits, would be crushed to death, beneath a pile of heavy commentators, We reverse the historian's picture of the state of literature during the decline of Rome. The corruption of taste, it is to be feared, will engender and foster the decline of genius.

Shakspeare, Spenser, and Milton have been swollen into many bulky volumes by the dull, but sometimes useful labors of editors and commentators, But Chaucer, the father of English poetry, and a poet of the highest order of genius, has not had that labor bestowed on him, which the antiquity, and often obscurity, of his style and dialect demand, and which his great genius unquestionably deserves. Of the various commentators of Shakspeare it may be said that, while we are indebted to them for much silent emendation of his text, we meet with an abundance of needless discussion. Of Spenser and of Milton Mr. Todd has published editions, and col

Witness the party hostility, for many years, of the Edinburgh Review against the writings of Mr. Wordsworth, now acknowledged by all to be the greatest poet of the age. The present writer is old enough to remember the expression of admiration of this great Author to have been the signal of a general scoff.

lated the labors of former editors. Spenser's antique style re quires a commentator well read in old English literature. But this exquisite poet is much more talked of than read; and this remark applies almost equally to our great epic poet. Milton has, however met with some tolerable commentators, who display both the virtues and failings of this species of literary laborer. But he has been afflicted with one pedantic editor, who has presumed to attempt to correct his poetry itself. The learned name of Bentley cannot rescue him from the charge of the greatest folly, and even ignorance, of the first works of art, by his insane project of mending the almost faultless style of the Paradise Lost. For it has been well said by a modern critic * in reference to his versification,→ and the observation is as just as it is beautiful,-" That the works of Milton are a perpetual invocation to the Muses, a hymn to Fame." In composition he is as perfect as Virgil himself.

Į was many years ago led into these reflections by a perusal of the va rious dogmatical opinions of Milton's poem of Paradise Regained, which are subjoined to Todd's edition of this exquisite and highly finished poem. Names, justly celebrated in other branches of literature, have lowered themselves by the dogmatical judgments which they have recorded of the author of Paradise Lost having failed, either partially or totally, in his Paradise Regained. The classical Jortin tells us that "It has not the harmony of numbers, the sublimity of thought, and the beauties of diction which are in Paradise Lost; and that it is composed in a lower and less striking style, a style suited to the subject." That the style is "suited to the subject," is most true; but that, because more quiet, it is therefore "lower,"-and that it has not passages of equal harmony and beauty, and even of sublimity, with the Paradise Lost,—is an opinion which has been very carelessly and injudiciously formed, and may, I think, be easily refuted.

Bishop Warburton, in his characterestic and decided manner, tells the world that "the plan is a very unhappy and defective one;" that the poet ought to have dwelt on Christ's death and resurrection 'as the price paid for man's redemption; and that "no opportunity is afforded of driving the devil back again to hell from his new conquest in the air." In short, nothing he thinks was easier than to

• Mr. Hazlitt in "The Round Table;" No. XIV.