ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

forests, the names of the greatest and wisest of their kings and statesmen. At the same time it is proper to remark, that the first symbols of writing were adopted from trees, plants, fishes, and shells; as the Egyptian, Ethiopian, and Mexican hieroglyphics, and Chinese manuscripts amply testify.

Rill, valley, ocean, lake, and harbour, are from the Latin: river, cascade, vale, rock, forest, and fountain, are from the French: lawn from the Danish: dale from the Gothic: garden from the Welsh: glen from the Erse: alcove from the Spanish; and cataract from the Greek. While dingle, hill, field, meadow, orchard, stream, flood, sea, spring, bower and wood are from the Saxon. Of trees, poplar, peach, osier, cherry, pear, jasmine, and lilac, are French: arbute, cedar, juniper, vine, sallow, laurel, myrtle, rose, pine, alder, acacia, larch, and cypress, are from the Latin. The oak, ash, elm, beech, apple, plum, elder, bramble, nut, birch, box, broom, honeysuckle, chesnut, walnut, holly, yew, mulberry, aspen, lime, and ivy, are from the Saxon. Thorn from the Gothic: horn-beam from the Dutch: willow and fir, from the Welsh: while the general name of tree is derived from the Danish.

Of those artificial objects, which contribute to embellish scenery, such as bridge, house, cottage and church, most of them are from the Saxon. Of the colours, which contribute to adorn all these objects, blue, red, white, and yellow, are Saxon; purple, French; indigo, Latin; and green, German. And it is curious to observe with what care the fathers of our language selected from the various tongues, when we perceive, that,

of the synonymies of these objects combined, scenery and prospect we trace to the Latin; landscape to the Dutch; and view to the French.

[ocr errors]

It would have been natural to have supposed, that the above subjects, which form the component parts of landscape, derived their appellations from one primary root; since they are all primitives, and most of them natural products, if we may so express ourselves, of the soil. And yet, though our organs of sensation are from one etymological source, we borrow the names of almost every object in landscape from discordant tongues. In fact our language is a curious compound! It is an olio of Greek and Latin, of Saxon, French, and Dutch ingredients. With this admixture, it would be impossible to reduce etymology to any regular system: yet we may remark, generally, that our scientific words are from the Greek; our terms of art from the French, Latin and Italian; while most of our domestic words,-words expressive of objects, which daily attract our attention, -are from the Saxon. Our derivatives are, of course, deduced from primitives; while our primitives are derived from other languages, much after the following scale of obligation.—Mathematical accuracy, in a case of this sort, is not to be fairly expected; particularly as etymologists are so frequently at war with each other. It ought, however, to be observed, that the obligations, here stated, are far, very far, from being overcharged.

[blocks in formation]

With several other words from the Teutonic, Gothic, Hebrew, Swedish, Portuguese, Flemish, Runic, Egyptian, Persic, Cimbric, and Chinese. To this we may add, that in the Greek language there are said to be 30,000 words; in the Latin 31,500; in the French 32,000; in the Italian 35,000; and in the English 40,000.

CHAPTER IV.

Or all objects in nature, none strikes the soul with so much wonder, awe, and melancholy, as the ocean. As the eye of taste weeps grateful tears at the representation of a well-written tragedy, and thrills in every nerve, when listening to the concertos of Pleyel, Haydn, and Mozart; so, when gazing on the transparent azure of autumnal skies, or when reclined upon a rock, which overlooks that element, which has the alternate power of striking us with awe, and of lulling us into mental slumber, our feelings, in some measure, partake of that ambrosial character, which so highly distinguishes those beings, who, having laboured to reform and enlighten mankind, rest from their toils, in order to chasten the severity of judgment, with the tintings of a brilliant fancy.

There is a beautiful passage in Goethe's ballad of the

Fisherman; where he describes the pleasure, which is derived from gazing on the sea; a passage reminding the reader of that scene in Asia, where a plaintive harmony is heard in the air, arising from the murmur of the ocean, beating beneath an atmosphere of unwonted purity. Quintus Curtius1 gives an account of the awe and apprehension of Alexander's soldiers, when they saw the sea, near the opening of the Indus. They were surprised and alarmed, when they observed the tide rise so high as thirty feet: they, who had only been accustomed to the tranquil waters of the Mediterranean! Florus 2 describes the effect, which the sea, and the sun, sinking into it, had upon the minds of the soldiers of Decimus Brutus and we are told, that the effect is the same, only different in degree, with the most uninformed, as with the most accomplished minds. In the former, it is the rude simplicity of nature; in the latter, the natural impulse is chastened and improved by a cultivated imagination. When the Bedouin Arabs arrive at any of the Syrian ports, they never fail to express their rapture and astonishment, at beholding the sea for the first time; and with all the eagerness of admiration, they inquire, what that "desert of water," means.

:

II.

The ocean, which Sophocles considered the finest and most beautiful object in nature, fills every contemplative

1 Lib. ix. 29.

2 Lib. ii. c. xvii. Ælian, on the other hand, relates a curious instance of the little veneration, which the Celtæ entertained for the sea. Var. Hist. xii. 23.

mind with that grateful awe, which bears witness, that it acknowledges the hand of a deity; and that we know the value of that religion, which a French writer would call "the science of the soul;" the language of which is that of the mind, in unison with the affections. This vast collection of globules, and fountain of vapour, occupies more than three parts of the globe; is the source of circulation and growth to all organized bodies; and the general reservoir of vegetable and animal decompositions, with sulphureous and mineral substances. While the myriads of animals, it contains, no pen could ever number. Neither could it enumerate the multitude of shells, gems', and plants, which grow to us invisibly; and to which, doubtless, the present species, genera, orders and classes, could not be referred. Some floating with the wind; others at the mercy of every wave; some secured to stones and rocks; some rising to the surface from the bottom; and others, sheltered from agitations, rising not above two inches above the great bed of the ocean: receiving nourishment from its saline particles; and giving sustenance, in return, to innumerable fishes and insects. Thales was, therefore, not far from the truth, when he said, that the deity formed all things out of water :-nor Proclus, when he taught, that the ocean was the cause of secondary natures of every description.

"There is many a rich stone laid up in the bowels of the earth; many a fair pearle in the bosom of the sea, that never was seene, and never shall bee." Bishop Hall's Contemplations, 1. vi. p. 872.-From this passage Gray has borrowed one of his most beautiful stanzas.-Mitford.

2 Cic. de Natura Deorum, lib. i. c. 10.

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »