Operations.-Continued the same-This weather is favourable and is always taken advantage of at this season, to get land cleared, pickets laid down and ready for opening holes and planting by the October rains which are more to be depended upon, in this valley, than the May rains. The Coffee tree in some parts of the estates though loaded with fruit, look very yellow and evidently suffer from the want of sufficient rain. A few days rainy weather would bring on a general ripening. Health.-Europeans are certainly improving in this respect-but the Natives, Kandians and Cinghalese, in this part of the country still suffer much from a species of brain fever, intermittent diarrhea and dysentry., &c. &c. The Malabar coolies on the estates suffer equally, and several deaths have oc curred. ERRATA In No. 1. Page 7, line 11, for "does" read "do." COLOMBO: PRINTED AT THE HERALD PRESS. Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine Poeta, Quale sopor fessis in graminc; quale, per aestum [Virgili Bucstica.-Ecl. v. 45, O heavenly poet! such thy verse appears, As to the feverish traveller, when first He finds a chrystal stream to quench his thirst. Dryden. THE merit of a work cannot be duly estimated unless the object of the author in its construction be considered. In the comparison,-commonly instituted between Milton's two great poems, the Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained,-the Author's views, as well as the subjects of the respective poems, must be examined before a correct judgment can be formed of the real merits of these noble compositions. The striking selectness of all Milton's poetical works shews that he had a most exact judgment. His plans,--so far from being defective, as has been alleged of Paradise Regained,-were always perfect; and they were filled up in the most appropriate and just manner. If we except, perhaps, his occasional gorgeousness of expression,— if his highly wrought and picturesque language may be so termed, from a mind richly embued with every kind of learning, a bril liant fancy, and a sublime imagination, he never over-did anything and who could part with this richness of coloring, of which "Iris dips the woof?" The conception and the entire plan of his works are perfect. If the opulence of language and the richness of imagery, to which I have referred, be faults, but who, I repeat, would consent to part with such felicitous crimes for the sake of an over-niceness of fastidious criticism ?-they are those of style only, with which he filled, and as it were over-gorged his outlines. The mind of the author ought, therefore, to be consulted as to what he intended to represent by his several works. We should go to the cause before we judge of the effect. Some fine clear principle always lies under the beautiful machinery and the eloquent discourse of Milton's poetry. As springs which lie deepest in the earth, and are the most difficult of access, do, when discovered, commonly cast up the purest water; so the profound truths, which to the million" are so hidden as to be effectually buried under the mass of his writings,-which to such persons appear but as an assemblage of hard and unintelligible words,—are to the eyes, which ean pierce into the depths, of a virtue that is scarcely short of divine. The spirit that informs the whole. "Broods o'er the vast abyss, And makes its pregnant." Let us then, in the first place, consider the principle which Milton illustrates in his two great poems, Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. Without this mode of construction, the Bible itself were no more than a simple history, necessary only to teach our children the rudiments of reading, and to amuse their infantine fancies with the stories, many and most of which are beautiful and touching in themselves, and most ex• quisitely told. These poems, having for their bases the to great truths of the Old and New Testament, especially demand this species of consideration. The Paradise Lost is founded upon the Fall of Man through an act of disobedience, which "Brought death into the world, and all our woe, With loss of Eden." The immeasurable distance, which in the nature of things subsists between corruption and incorruption, the state of grace and the state of siu, and between life and immortality, and death and destruction, into which, without the divine grace and support, we must inevitably have fallen,-is so vast vacuity," that, were we not upholden by the Divine Hand, like our Poet's awful portraiture of Satan in the vortex of Chaos, we 66 "To this hour Down had been falling." Man had fallen from a "pernicions height," as the dreadful consequences of this act of sin have fatally proved it; aud though it would appear that to effect his fall was a task of small difficulty to the subtile tempter; yet to re-ascend the steep whence he was precipitated, is not so easily to be accomplished. One of the salutary effects, which was perhaps the purpose of Divine Wisdom in permitting the temptation and the fall of man, was, while teaching us our weakness and dependence, without the grace of God, to instruct us further as to the infinite distance between holiness and virtue, and ungodliness and sin; that thus, by the aid of the Divine grace, we may advance towards the perfection of our nature by the blameless exercise of our free will. Here then, in this eternal separation of truth and error, opened a mighty field for a genius, such as Milton's, to spread "his sailbroad vans," All his ministers must of necessity be above humanity. They were indeed "Ministers of Vengeance." It was emphatically a field of action. Action is the animating soul of this poem, "High actions and high passions best describing." There is a grandeur in action that is taken in by the eye, and captivates the soul. An Alexander has acquired more fame, properly so called, in the world, than a Plato. Cæsar is more universally celebrated, among men, as a great warrior, for bis conquest of Gaul, than as an eloquent writer, for describing his conquests in his elegant commentaries. But in the more intelligent eye of contemplation, the calm philosopher is immeasurably more worthy of true glory than the mighty conqueror; and the pen of the eloquent historian is of more real power than the sword of the greatest general that ever commanded the legions of Rome. "This attracts the soul, Governs the inner man, the nobler part; Paradise Regained. II. 476. Paradise Lost, the chief It is not to be wondered at that the business of which is action, should be so generally, and so decidedly preferred before the Paradise Regained, a purely contemplative poem, the chief, and almost the sole business of which is discourse. Like the life of the Divine Hero of this sublime poem, the spirit of Paradise Regained is "Private, unactive, calm, contemplative." *. : I will add, too, that it is better executed for it is far from my purpose to pluck a solitary leaf from the unfading wreath of glory, with which Fame has encircled the mighty Name of Milton, in perhaps the noblest effort of human genius, the Paradise Lost,-"awe -stricken as I am by contemplating the operations of the mind of this truly great poet.' Nor, for a moment to advert to the Pa radise Lost, can the sublime subject, and the inimitable execution of the mighty poet, be so truly and so finely depicted, as by some exquisite lines of Virgil, which Milton has nobly imitated in the seventh book of his poem. I refer the reader to the passages of both these great poets in the margin.† But while I pay this just and willing tribute to the excellence of this first and greatest Epic Poem which the world ever saw, I must * Wordsworth-See his fine preface to his poems, which, with his other critical essays, should be read day and night by the philosophical man of taste. † Paradise Lost. B. VII. 276. Virg: Eclog VI. 31. |