And the real was a picture which I had ideally
contemplated years before. The task was finished.
In the interim, public improvements had not been neglected; an
extremely pretty church had been erected and a public
reading-room established; but, with the exception of one good
house which had been built, private enterprise had lain dormant.
As usual, from January to May, Newera Ellia was overcrowded with
months of visitors, and nearly empty during the other months of
the year.
All Ceylon people dread the wet season at Newera Ellia, which
continues from June to December.
I myself prefer it to what is termed the dry season, at which
time the country is burnt up by drought. There is never more
rain at Newera Ellia than vegetation requires, and not one-fourth
the quantity fills at this elevation, compared to that of the low
country. It may be more continuous, but it is of a lighter
character, and more akin to "Scotch mist." The clear days during
the wet season are far more lovely than the constant glare of the
summer months, and the rays of the sun are not so powerful.
There cannot be a more beautiful sight than the view of sunrise
from the summit of Pedrotallagalla, the highest mountain in
Ceylon, which, rising to the height of 8300 feet, looks down upon
Newera Ellia, some two thousand feet below upon one side, and
upon the interminable depths of countless ravines and valleys at
its base.
There is a feeling approaching the sublime when a solitary man
thus stands upon the highest point of earth, before the dawn of
day, and waits the first rising of the sun. Nothing above him
but the dusky arch of heaven. Nothing on his level but empty
space, - all beneath, deep beneath his feet. From childhood he
has looked to heaven as the dwelling of the Almighty, and he now
stands upon that lofty summit in the silence of utter solitude;
his hand, as he raises it above his head, the highest mark upon
the sea-girt land; his form above all mortals upon this land, the
nearest to his God. Words, till now unthought of, tingle in his
ears: "He went up into a mountain apart to pray." He feels the
spirit which prompted the choice of such a lonely spot, and he
stands instinctively uncovered, as the first ray of light spreads
like a thread of fire across the sky.
And now the distant hill-tops, far below, struggle through the
snowy sheet of mist, like islands in a fairy sea; and far, how
far his eye can scan, where the faint line upon the horizon
marks the ocean! Mountain and valley, hill and plain, with
boundless forest, stretch beneath his feet, far as his sight can
gaze, and the scene, so solemnly beautiful, gradually wakens to
his senses; the birds begin to chirp; the dew-drops fall heavily
from the trees, as the light breeze stirs from an apparent sleep;
a golden tint spreads over the sea of mist below; the rays dart
lightning-like upon the eastern sky; the mighty orb rises in all
the fullness of his majesty, recalling the words of Omnipotence:
"Let there be light!"
The sun is risen!
