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IN THREE PARTS.
own diary-deciphered from shorthand with a spirit of giving me little books of pictures, and explaining them unsubdued devotion to a sacred task--William Wilson, to me. The appearance of this patroness of my early one of the four brethren, as the fathers of the Secession youth I have from that day clearly remembered: and it Church are endearingly called by their followers, was seems to have been impressed upon me in rather a whim. worthy of being so viewed, and his memory preserved in sical way. On the lady's cheek was a small spot streaked honourable remembrance. The affectionate and able with those wavy threads of red, to which immoderate chronicler of his life-son to one of the most learned and sorrow, or indulgence, or natural decay, often attenuates al accomplished theologians and men of letters of the time, the tints of a florid beauty. A leaf had fallen from me Dr Ferrier of Paisley_besides participating in these sen- of my little books, and I remember to have asked a scartiments, had the honourable claim of lineal descent from let thread from her cheek to sew it again into its proper Mr Wilson, to entitle him to undertake a task which he place. has judiciously performed ; and he has thus given a per I omit farther record of my boyhood as common and all sonal and domestic interest to a volume which has intrin- uninteresting, and advance to deeper and more perilous sically a general and intense one to a large section of the details. Christian public. The Memoir is divided, in the old One evening, in the eighteenth summer of my age. I style, into periods, and proceeds in a lucid manner, only was crossing on horseback a river about twenty miles broken by copious and interesting extracts from the cor- from home, when the animal on which I rode was na: respondence, &c. of its theme. We presume the volume tered by the force of the current, which was heavily will command a wide circulation.
flooded from previous rains; and horse and rider wer! rolled down in the strong stream.
From the first rush and thunder of waters in my The Portfolio of the Martyr-Student. London. Long- soul, a dim blank was over me till I awoke to a confosed man, Lees, Orme, and Co. 1830. 12mo. Pp. 191. sense of what had befallen me, and of my now being We presume this is the production of a very young which must have lasted during the night, for when I
kindly ministered to. To this succeeded a heavy sleepy
, man. It indicates the possession of a poetical temperament, and it is not unlikely that, with a little more ex
next distinctly awoke, the light of the sun through a perience and study, the author may produce poetry of a
green curtain fell with a fine baze upon my face as I superior kind. Some of the minor pieces are pretty, and lay upon an unknown bed, and the song of swallows there is a good deal of vigour in several passages of the from the eaves was as if it were the matin hour. “ It is longer poem.
certainly morning,” said I to myself, as I lay still, trying to remember how I had come thither. I was interrupt.
ed in my calculation, by the entrance of a good-looking tot MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.
man, apparently a farmer, who, after satisfying himself to that I was fairly awake, began to congratulate me on my
escape from drowning in the river, and then told me, in THE APOLOGY.
answer to my enquiry, that I had been saved by a young
niece of his own, who having seen the failure of my horse, By Thomas Aird, Author of “ Religious Characteristics," watched me as I was rolled down the river, till
, on being gc.
borne near the bank where she was, she rushed in and
drew me out at the peril of her own life.
to say,” he added, “ that your horse perished; but this is
comparatively nothing since yourself are safe. I mast Part II.
now go for our sweet young surgeon, for, do you know, Of my parentage I can say nothing : a mystery over you have got an ugly gash on your head against some hangs my childhood, which I have sought in vain to clear rock in the water, and it is needful now to have it dressup, and which I now believe must for ever remain dark ed." My host retired for a few minutes, and then re
There is nothing more common than to hear it turned, followed by a fair young creature, with salve and remarked, “ How short seems our bypast life!" but to bandages for my head, whom, moreover, he introduced to me, sir, this moment the days of my boyhood appear so me as his piece, Emily Bonnington, who had sared my far remote that they seem to belong to some other earlier life. After I had fervently thanked my young preserver, world. Such are my farthest recollections of a sunny I submitted to her farther kindness, and she bound up world of yore, and of my being led out into the pleasant my head with the most tender care.
I was then left fields by some kind playmate, of whom I remember only alone, under the recommendation of my kind host, that I the little feet that went before me. Would I could for- should try, if possible, to sleep again, as I felt a mees get these early passages altogether, or knew them more violent throbbing in my head, and accordingly I lay back distinctly! Sometimes my spirit is so earnest, and, as I upon my bed, trying to compose myself anew to slumthink, so near falling into the proper train of pursuing ber. What was it that invested my lovely presenter them, that in my anxiety-I may call it my agony—the with such an interest to me as I lay for hours, sleeping perspiration stands upon my brow. I see the dim some- none, but thinking only of her ? Love-sudden love, it thing before me, yet never can overtake or unmask it could not be, for my heart and soul were inalienably de“ You might as well
voted to another. Nor yet could the strongest gratitude Hunt half a day for a forgotten dream.”
exhaust the mysterious regard which brought that young
woman, Emily Bonnington, so near my heart. Had! The first point in my childhood which I clearly remem- seen that face of hers before? I could not say that I had; ber, is, that I was sitting alone plucking the blossoms from yet it haunted me less in reference to late things, than te a fine bush of budding broom, when a crow alighted near a cloud of early reminiscences which came over me, as I my feet, and carried off a large worm. Then came a lay without passion, without control, my spirit becalmed woman, whose face I cannot recall, with a little red shoe on a still sea of remembrance. About noon I arose, and in her hand, which she put upon one of my feet; and joined my host in a short walk through his fields. In the then she took me up. Probably it had fallen off by the afternoon I had an opportunity of questioning Emily way, and I had been set down on the grass till she went Bonnington a little farther as to my preservation; and back to seek it.
the graceful modesty with which she recounted the pers The next point, and that to which I can follow back ticulars, bettered the sweet impressions which her beauty my continuous recollections, is my being in a room with was entitled to make on every heart, whether young or an elderly lady, who took great pains to amuse me in old, and left me to wonder how, in her humble sphere of
“ I am sort
rustic service, she had attained,' or could preserve, her Dublin and London, where I spent a year in the farther simple but true elegance. In accordance with my host's advancement of my professional knowledge. On my way kind entreaties, I agreed to stay with him till the mor- home from the latter city, the mail left me at an inn about row, resolved then to take a seat homeward in the mail, ten miles from Mountcoin, where I resolved to stay all which passed by near his house at an early hour. night, purposing to walk home early on the morrow. Af
This night, after I had slept, as I thought, for several ter I had rested awhile from the dizzy fatigue of travel hours, I awoke from confused dreams with an over-la-ling, I walked out on a balcony from one of the windows boured spirit. My ears had not yet got quite rid of yes of the inn, to enjoy the beautiful summer evening, which terday's watery visitation, and I felt my head heavy and had been freshened by a thick shower. The glittering benumbed, whilst my stomach was oppressed with dis- blades of the green wheaten uplands owned the dropping agrecable nausea. To relieve myself a little, I arose and fatness of heaven; and as the fluttering breeze awoke, a went to the window, which I opened to taste the pure dewy fragrance was shaken from the budded spray of breath of the night. The moon was shining clearly down some sweetly-breathed birches that twinkled before me. from the zenith, and no cloud stained her blue noon. The Away towards the watery east, the rainbow was falling stars were aloof and fainting from her glorious presence. with yellow glory down on the green faces of the woods. My attention was, however, soon drawn from the beau- The little boy crept from the dropping shelter of the tiful wilderness of heaven by a low whispering beneath hedge, and renewed his rattle to frighten the birds from me, and looking down, I saw Emily Bonnington come the yellow plots of seeded turnips up in the sunny crofts ; round in front of the house with a young man.
while back, to cheer his bondage, came the village child"Fear not, Emily," I heard him say, my heart and ren, bareheaded, rejoicing beneath the skirts of the sumlove could afford to blazon you before the whole world." mer-shower, winking to the dewy sheen, and oft stretch
“ Enough for me,” was her low sweet reply, “ that I ing their arms to the lovely rainbow. Such was the have staked my all on your good opinion,-honour my glad scene before me, which within a brief quarter of an pledge."
hour was, though still fair as before in itself, to grow The youth now bade her passionately adieu, which she dark and unheeded from a change which came over my returned evidently with the most confiding affection; and heart—for such indeed is the relative constitution of this after she had watched him for some time as he hasted world's beauty. As I stood before the window, I saw a away through the green dewy parks, she turned with some carriage advancing along the highway with great rapidity, low murmuring exclamation, and retired behind the house. the harness glittering in the sun, and the glimmering Had I not known that young man, an interview like wheels raising a mist which was left behind in a long this, which I had undesignedly witnessed, so common trail. Onward the carriage came, and having been drawn betwixt lovers, might not have given me a thought be- up before the door of the inn, my antagonist Wardrop yond the moment; but I had at once recognised the youth, stepped from it, and turning, handed out a young lady, and what I knew of him made me anxious and unhappy in whom, to my infinite surprise and horror, I recognised in calculating the probable consequences of such a love my own beloved Catherine Sinton. I say horror, for the to my young and beautiful preserver. He was a young air of necessary gallantry with which Wardrop did his degentleman of the name of Julius Wardrop, the only son voir,--the confiding tenderness with which the lady leaned of an old squire, who had an estate a few miles from on his arm, and that peculiar softened and mellowed halo Mountcoin, and another in that part of the country where of beauty, of which the saffron robe is the emblem, and Emily Bonnington resided with her uncle, the quick re- which, shadowing the warm and blushing brow, weighing collection of which circumstance made me better assured the eyelid, and heightening the blooming honours of the that I had truly recognised young Wardrop. I knew cheek, leaves us never to mistake a young bride, carried him to be bold, artful, and unprincipled ; and even had to my heart, as with a stroke of lightning, that the lady it been otherwise, my knowledge of the disparity of their was lost to me for ever, and was become the wife of anfortunes was entitled to justify my vexation to have found other. No sooner were Wardrop and his young-(well, it him the lover of Emily, and my fears for my beautiful must be so)-his young wife fairly into the inn, than I little preserver, who had assuredly in return given him hurried down stairs to take my departure, not having her heart.
magnanimity enough to stay an hour near so fearfullyIn the morning, when I saw her alone for a few mi-interesting a party. A single question to the coachman nutes before my departure to join the mail, I was almost as I passed through the court-yard, brought down upon on the point of being so friendly, or so impertinent, as to me an answer confirmatory of my suspicions, and withwarn her against him; but I dreaded so much the latter out another moment's delay, I took my homeward road imputation, that I forbore. I did indeed give one vague adown the river side, my crowding thoughts unable to and general caution. When about to go, I took a ring arrange themselves, and my whole heart swallowed up in from my finger, and pressed her to keep it as a slight me- the overwhelming conviction that I had indeed lost all miento that I wished to be grateful.
claim to my Catherine. She was the daughter of a gen“ I will keep it,” said she, taking the gem with grace- tleman in this neighbourhood, and I had loved her for ful modesty, "and be proud when I look at it to remem- many years with a growing passion, which, however, I ber that Heaven made me the instrument of saving the never revealed to her ; but this I had determined to do life of a worthy young gentleman.”
without further delay, and my departure from London was " And may it be the ring of an elder brother," said I, hastened even for this very purpose, as I could endure my willing to insinuate a general caution against Wardrop's absence from her no longer. So then I was too late! So possible villainy; " and may the memory which it recalls then Catherine was lost to me for ever! With the burden of thine own noble heroism, fortify thy soul to challenge of these bitter thoughts upon me, I wandered homewards, and defeat the betrayer, should any one, presuming on I know not how. I was not, however, so selfish in my his wealth or his wiles, ever tempt tby excellent ho- own loss as altogether to forget Miss Bonnington, and my nour!"
heart boiled with double indignation against Wardrop, as To this appeal, which living and present apprehension I could not but think that he must have deceived and formade me utter with much solemnity, young Emily an- saken poor Emily. Were we to refine and enquire cuswered only with a keen and half-blushing look, and I riously for motives, the emphasis which I laid on this bade her adieu.
part of his misconduct, mignt perhaps argue that my After finishing my medical studies at the University heart, on account of its own private feelings, was eager of Edinburgh, the liberality of my patroness, Mrs Has to find a just cause of anger against him. tings, who had been left with a handsome jointure by an The very next day, by chance I met Emily's uncle, as he old antiquary, allowed me to visit the medical schools of was on his way to a distant fair, and, on my enquiring for
“ God know,
my fair preserver, he gave me to understand that she had her eyes, were a prelude to the subdued and softened pow left him; and this he did with such a sorrowful reluc heart, which thus burst into sad flow. tance, that I dreaded the worst. He seemed angry, when Mr Hastings, I have much need to keep it, since it is the I attempted to follow up my enquiries a little farther, only little pledge left of my own self-respect. You must though I did it as incidentally as possible ; but when I leave me, sir; I am dishonoured, God knows, enough. apologized, by stating the deep interest which I took in I cannot endure your kind cares. But remember, sir, I my beautiful preserver, whom, in her joy or her sorrow, am not dishonoured as you perhaps suppose.' Hark! I could not but be bound now and then to see, I saw the hark! there comes Wardrop, my cruel — O, no! no! tear start in his eye, and, after a pause, he said :-“ She-- But he promised to be here to-night; and wvbat must may be in sorrow, poor child, for aught we know, though be done with you ?" Ere I could turn from the maid, God forbid! The truth is, sir, she left us some three the door of our room was burst open, and I was suddenly months ago, and we know not how to find her. We have assailed and struck down by a blow from behind. I rehad two letters from her, however, in both of which she covered myself, yet reeling, but was again struck down. says she is well, asks pardon for her strange departure, A second time 1 rose ;-a knife came to my hand with begs our forbearance for a little longer, and promises soon fatal facility ;-through mists, and the blood which camne to return to us without dishonour. Would to Heaven over my temples, I saw my own arm raised flashing aloft ; that day were come, my little Emily!” I was on the -I heard the greedy knife gashing the side of that fopoint of mentioning my suspicions, from what I guessed man's seducer. of her love for Wardrop, but I refrained, because I might “ If you are dishonoured, so are you avenged !" I rebe wrong, and because, in the event of my suspicions being member to have cried, panting. I cleared the mist and just, I thought it better not to give occasion to precipitate blood from my eyes. A loud yell was in my ears. matters, by directing the interference of her fiery kins- Emily had fainted, and fallen back on a chair. The face
I resolved to see her myself, if possible, without of my prostrate antagonist had been towards the door ;delay, anxious to redeem her gently from any error. 1 he was now turning round to look for Emily, and I was think there was no priggish impertinence in this wish of horrified to see the bright blue eye of a stranger youth mine to interfere. I would but warn Miss Bonnington quivering in death. of Wardrop's marriage, and leave it to her good sense to “Help me to my sister," I heard him say, with an awful do or avoid the rest. Having learned that he had gone look to me of pathetic reproach. I was petrified; I could back with his bride to Edinburgh, I followed, determined
With an energy that made the purple drepas to make him tell me where Miss Bonnington was, (for of life spirt and bubble from his side, he raised himself I doubted not that under his auspices she had left her up, and, twisting himself twice round, was at the feet of uncle's friendly roof,) and, moreover, to let him know Emily. He clasped them to his bosom, and kissed her that I would do my utmost to save that maiden from his ankles convulsively, with a fearful energy of love. Again farther villainy. The accumulated grief and indignation he panted forth the name of his sister ; then turned upon of my spirit threw me into a violent fever a few hours me his eye, in wbich death was mingled with a corse. after my arrival in Edinburgh, and it was nearly a month I was brooking the last look which still glared, stiffening, ere I was again able to walk out. The very first evening against me, when, in a moment recollecting myself, I after quitting my chamber, I saw, by chance, in the dim sprung to his ear, crying aloud, that I was not his sister's twilight, Emily Bonnington walking alone in an obscure seducer. It was too late. There was no motion of doubt street, forlorn and wo-begone, pale of countenance, slow or belief. The film of death had fallen for ever on his and irregular in her step. She did not seem to recognise eye. And judge me, Calvert, friend of mine, if the cloud me as I passed by; and why did I pass by without ad- of eclipse did not then fall on my heart, which no time dressing her ? Oh, God! I wanted to see if she had not shall list or blot away! You may wonder, but I remembecome one of those miserable women who give their ber all these particulars distinctly, for I was calm in debeauty and their embraces for hire. She walked forward, spair ; I see the whole thing by night and day like a dark however, without offering, or meeting with, interruption, phantasmagoria; I have gone over the particulars, in my and I followed, till, as she was about to be admitted into mind's eye, a thousand times, winning each one to its a house in a mean part of the city, I touched her on the proper place, and arranging the whole like a dance, till shoulder from behind, announced my name, and asked if the order is at length fixed inalienably before me. I think I might talk with her for a few minutes.
my cries brought the mistress of the house into the room; “ Certainly, sir, in virtue of former acquaintanceship," and I think it was the voice of her reproaches that first replied she, with proud alacrity.
induced me to flee, which I did more from horror at my We were accordingly ushered, by a woman of decent deed, than fear from my responsibility. I descended a appearance, into a small room, when Miss Bonpington, stair, and hurried along the crowded streets. Every ere turning to me with a somewhat peremptory look, as if, seemed intent upon mc; and I heard the sound of men's without delay, to know my business, I felt myself obliged feet, as if hurrying away to some judgment—some great to state at once for what reason I had sought her. She verdict against me.
The coaches seemed to be rolling was angry and proud, and haughtily rejected my plea along the night-streets with greater speed and a louder that I saw her unfortunate.
sound of wheels than usual ; and they were filled, me“ If so," she said, “ my misfortunes are my own, and thought, with men who were in haste on my account. of my own free choice. I must be rid of your ring,” she Lamps and torches, as I passed, flashed brightly in my continued," for I see that, in virtue of my having accepted face, as if for the wicked purpose of detection; and every it, you think yourself warranted in very unnecessary in- motion of the crowded metropolis seemed instinct with terference.” Suiting the action to the words, she drew earnestness in relation to my bloody offence. Without it forth, with peremptory haste, from a small box into any formnal choice of route, I made my escape from the which it had been carefully put, and was about to throw city by a south road, merely because I had happened to it into the fire, when I interposed. “ Pause_hear me fall upon it most readily. Three or four miles away
from for one moment, Miss Bonnington,” I cried. “ I am the last din of the town, I sat me down on a green bank, newly redeemed from the gates of death, and my heart, weary and bewildered, and there fell fast asleep. I must when I saw you, could not be so callous, as not to prompt have slept for several hours, for when I sat down, I saw me to follow you, and ask whether you are unhappy. the moon broad and red coming up above the horizon, But I shall leave you this instant, if you will still pre- and when I awoke she was riding high and clear
. I have serve that little pledge."
often wondered how, in my weakness after late fever, I Her trembling pause, and the big blinding tears that, could stand such fatigue and exposure ; but such is the despite of her efforts to be firm, began to drop fast from fact, that, despite of these untoward circumstapces, I
gained, upon the whole, my bodily strength very fast. how to find that true mother of my life; and it must be iShen I awoke, as stated above, I was pretty calm in my sacred duty to take care of her, for perhaps-- By spirit
, and could calculate the meaning and farther direc- Heaven! you have done grievously wrong, lady! Pertion of my flight. I was indeed sorry that, in a weak haps -Who knows what may be her habits ? Now, and irritable mood, I had been induced to flee at all, which speak quickly—where am I to seek her ?” would be construed into an absconding from justice, and There was a pause, as Mrs Hastings seemed alarmed would thus bear the face of the worst guilt; and I had at the earnestness of my manner and her own responsisome thoughts of returning back to the city and surren-bility; but when I repeated my question with somewhat dering myself up to justice; but again I thought it better of sternness, she replied, meekly, that she knew nothing to go home and explain my unhappy predicament to Mrs of the woman; that she had not seen her for fifteen years. Hastings, and there quietly abide the pursuit of the law. She owned, moreover, with tears, that she had made it
On reaching Mountcoin, I learned that Mrs Hastings one condition of keeping me as her own son, that my had the day before set out to see me on a third visit since wretched mother was not to see me more than once a-year, my fever began, and that, moreover, she meant to proceed and that she was never to make known her relationship onwards to Glasgow, there to stay for a few weeks. to me; wherefore, as she had not come to see me during all Scarcely had a day gone by when, as I had hourly anti- these fifteen years, it might be inferred she was long ago cipated, I was apprehended at Mountcoin for the murder dead. I had to assent to this conclusion. But when Mrs of Mr Harry Bonnington, and conveyed to jail in Edin Hastings, weakly and with little tact, promised at this moburgh.
ment to do any thing for me, and to leave me, when she In the course of a few months, my trial came on. The died, all her substance, I declared it my purpose now to main witness in the case was the landlady of the house make my own way in the world, and never to keep her in which I committed the rash deed. According to her property from her natural heirs. deposition, the deceased (Harry Bonnington) came furi Accordingly, in a few weeks, I proceeded to sea, in the ously into her house on the evening in question, and she capacity of a surgeon's mate, after taking an affectionate saw him knock me down violently, and the blood spring leave of my kind old patroness, and promising to open a from my head. She saw nothing farther, having re- punctual correspondence with her, and in all respects to treated to her own apartment in great alarm. Emily be her son, save in so far as regarded my name, and the Bonnington was named as a witness; but, alas ! alas! ultimate possession of her property. I was soon advanshe had died—I presume of a broken heart_ere this day ced in my new occupation, and at length, after many years of trial. This was a thing to make my heart grow old of hard service, was appointed physician to a military hosin an hour! And then there was the second awful ex- pital in the Isle of Wight, where I remained till about planation, made in the course of the trial, with farther six months ago, when I was summoned to attend the particulars, of which I shall not trouble you—that I had death-bed of Mrs Hastings. According to my former slain that brother of hers, a brave and manly sailor-boy, resolution, I would accept none of her property in beat the very moment when, with a brother's piercing love, queathment, save this mansion, which she forced me to he had found out his unhappy sister's retreat, to win her take as a pledge of my gratitude for the comforts which, back from the spoiler! Under circumstances, it would in my boyhood, I had therein experienced. And here, seem, of strong palliation, a verdict of Manslaughter having lately given up my professional duties, and retired merely was found against me, and my sentence was three on half.pay, I mean to spend the remainder of my life. inonths' imprisonment. So soon as my confinement was I have lived here for three months now in almost perfect over, I went to wait on Mrs Hastings, with a confusion solitude. No one seeks my company, for it is generally of feelings, in reference to her, which I cannot well ex- reported, I believe, that I am fearfully distressed in mind press. About a week after my first lodgement in jail, I for the murder (grant the term) which I committed in had written to her, explaining my unhappy situation, and my youth. Nor is this altogether an idle report ; for praying her to come and see me; in answer to which, I though I have forgot, in a great measure, Catherine Sinreceived a letter from her, stating that she could not com- ton, and others whom I loved as the friends of my youth, ply with my wish; adding, moreover, that I was not her that boy Harry Bonnington haunts my soul day and son, that my real name was Bremner, that she had bought night. I have travelled in various lands, seen many me, when I was a child, from my mother, a vagrant wo men and many cities,” been in sea-fights many a one, yet, man, who was unable to support me; that she had done despite of all change of place, despite of every circumstance very much for me, but that I had testified my wild blood most likely to render a man callous, the guilty rashness by my late horrible act, and that she was determined to of that carly blow of mine troubles me still. countenance me no longer. With this letter of hers in
(Part III. in our next.) my hand, I now made my way, without ceremony, to her presence, and thus bitterly began :-“So, madam, in addition to your many excellent lessons, which have yet been
ETEA IITEPOENTASWINGED WORDS." insufficient to reclaim my savage nature, you must now
By William Tennant. * teach me where to find this worshipful mother of mine."
Wing'd words, that flew from babbling Babel forth, "My son! my own son, still !" cried she, weeping and As from their centre, round the spacious earth; »mbracing me. “ It was these greedy interested relations
As birds that flit from land to land sublime, of mine who made me write that cruel letter. Oh! say
Their notes or plumage vary with their clime,
So breath-created words, as round they range rou forgive me, Edward, for you have been indeed a kind From clime to clime, are doom'd to suffer change; ion to me!"
Yet, though disfigured, they are still the same,
And a snall voice yet mutters whence they caine. In whatever may be the mere force of blood, there is at least equal power in long habits of reverence and affec I cannot help considering the Hebrew plural terminaion; and now, in my turn, I embraced and forgave at tions im, in, and UTH, as the origin, not only of the plural mice the weak, but kind, old lady. “ But yet,” said I, symbols En and s of our porthern languages, but also of vith severe solemnity, " there is something strange and those of the Greek and Latin, and all the other languages, wful in this relation of mine to an unknown mother, ancient and modern, on both shores of the Mediterranean. pho
may yet be alive, and whose name at least, if you For the Latin language had, like the Greek, only two annot instruct me how to find her, I am determined plural terminations, i and Es, as PENNAI, DOMINOI, serenceforth to bear, to honour the being who gave me a
MONES, FRUCTUES, REES; and when we know that the ody and a spirit. But, O! there must be more-far Hebrews, Babyloniaus, and Syrians, suppressed the x in more! You have blessed me, lady, with good instruction,
* See a former Article, of a similar nature, in the Lit. Jour. Volg in which I thank you. But you must aow instruct me II. p. 35.
a frequently-occurring construction of their substantives, undon--PEEL from airw_GRIN from KiNGOR-TU't add as did the Latins always before a vowel, as their poetry por are from the German Butt and Torf, with many still testifies, the permanent loss of the omissible need others unnecessary to particularize. It has been remark! not be a matter of marvel. But the identity of the He- ed, that young persons, beginning to spell and read, frebrew plural Uth, with the Greek and Latin Es, or s, is not quently, and without being conscious of it, pronounce the so obvious; yet it is, with great probability, deducible words backwards ; but it has never, so far as I know, la from the many manifest mutations of a similar kind that been observed that children, or uneducated persons, de, in have taken place in other words. For we find, that in their ordinary speech, utter words in their backward many, if not in all languages, the sound this commutable spelling. with s, proceeding, as it does, from this cause, that that particular conformation of the enunciative organs which To an observer of mental phenomena, it is interesting is necessary to pronounce th, most easily and naturally to trace the words significative of mind, its operations and lapses into the utterance of s. An example of this exists affections, to their primitives, and to note how, in differ. in our own language, in the third person singular, pres. ent languages, these relationships correspond. The word indic.-as HATH, HAS, LOVETH, LOVES. And if this hap- signifying wind is the root, I believe, in mostly all lanpens in the vocables of one language relative to itself, much guages, of words signifying spirit or MIND. The Sapmore is it likely to happen in words transmitted from one skrit syllable an, denoting breath or wind, is the root of language to another, and exposed, in passing from land to the Greek ansjos, (and aw* enpain) whence the Latin land, to many dangerous accidents of change. Accord-ANIMA and ANIMUS. We bave a very old Scottish word, ingly, we find the Hebrew ATHUN, an ass, metamorphosed AYND, or End, denoting breath, which is evidently from into the Latin Asinus; the Greek avlov adulterated into the same origin. The Greek stvovce, a spirit, is frem the Latin ANISUM, ANISE : so the Latin first person plural yw, to blow — tuxn, the soul, is connected with, or mest Mus is formed from the Greek pesoa, a spouson (in one of probably derived from, fuxos, cold air ;-our word SPIRIT the dialects as you.es) becoming LEGIMUS. So also the fu- is from spiro, to breathe or blow ;-the Hebrew words, sion of the particle Oiv, the original sign of the genitive denoting a spirit, are all of similar signification, die ee singular, into s, as Mugwro@ev, Hudsos, yndsv, goso The al. BREATH, Our word GHOST, or GHAIST, is of Saxon oriternation of these letters may also account for the diver- gin, and the same with gust, a blast of wind. Again, sity of the imperative of the second aorist, which appears many of the words denoting acts or affections of the mind. to trepidate between the particle on and s, as gowbl, ornes, appear to have been originally agricultural terms, es80s, Oss. And some words in Greek are written indiffer-pressive of rural labour. The Hebrew word Arise, të ently, as it would seem, with a 8 or o, as Eugos, Euroos, think or meditate, means properly to Ploto:—the Latin whence Abyssus; nay, the Spartans seem to have proverb PUTARE, to think, signifies properly to PRUNE FLIES nounced the 8 of nearly all Attic words, where that the verb CERNERE, to discern or distinguish, denotes proni letter occurs, as an o, as Tagesvos, sonun, ozros, for raçosvos, perly to sift CORN—the verb LEGERE, to read, seems to Abnun, oz80s. And, with regard to other languages, we may have its primary signification to GATHER FRUIT, FLOWIIS, remark, that the Arabians and Persians have a letter of or LEAVES, (whence LECTUS, a bed, as being originally of nearly the same written symbol, but pronounced by the leaves.) The Hebrew word AmER, a word or SATINE, former people as th, by the latter, who like softer sounds, denotes a branch ; and the Latin word sermo appears to as s. Moreover, the Chaldeans changed the th of He. be a derivative from sero, to sow or plant. The werd brew words very frequently into sh. From all these in- solicit, solicitous, denotes TURNING UP THE SOIL ; the stances, tending to prove the commutability of these ap- word TRIBULATION is from TRIBULA, the dray with which parently different sounds, we think we have warrant they threshed their corn. But once more, the Latin enough to infer the original identity of these plural ter- SAPIENTIA, wisdom, is derived from saPIO, TO TASTI; the minations.
Hebrew word TOME, GOOD SENSE, or DISCRETION, is de
rived from tom, TO TASTE ; the word Gust seerns to have It is an amusing, and not unprofitable, exercise to note, been used in Scotland in the sense of KNOWING BY EIFEconnected as it is with the origin and cognation of nations, RIENCE. When we say A MAN OF TASTE, we mean ale i the devastations committed on words by emigration. Some man of intellectual discrimination and GOOD SENSE IN retain the first syllable ; some retain the last ; some the LETTERS. middle ; some, in vagabonding thousands of miles, retain their principal consonants; some only one ; some are so The Sanskrit word man—the Hebrew words Car, er completely recast, that they retain no similitude to their Kir, or Kirte, a city, and Bal, a possession, or possészet, originals, but are only to be recognised as the same, or as are to be found scattered nearly through the whole earth. cognates, through the intervention of some middle lan- The last word, Bal, is used both as a prefix in the sense guage, which is the connecting bond that betrays them. of a possession, and as a suffix in that of possessor ;—preBut, amid all the numerous metamorphoses—more won- fixed to names of places, as Baal-Gad, Baal-HERMOS– derful than those of Ovid-effected on far-travelled words, postfixed to many proper names, and particularly to 808the most extraordinary and inexplicable is, that they should dry famous persons in Tyre and Carthage, as AsDBUBAL be pronounced and spelled backwards to their original for- HANNIBAL, ITHABAL. The word Car, or Kır, or Kikia, mation. Of this there are so many examples, that amid a toron or city, is used also both as a prefix and sufix, in the infinite multiplication of sounds in human speech, the same signification of city, as in the words Cas. such a coincidence cannot be deemed fortuitous : it must IATHAIM, Kır-JATHJEARIM, CAR-Thage, CAR-THEIA, and be founded, we know not how, in nature. The Latin other names of towns in the north of Africa and south of word terra, earth, is nearly the Hebrew word ARETS Spain ;~in a sufix state it is to be found in Tigeadbackwards. The Hebrew words AB, Am, signifying FA-CERTE, the city of Tigranes, and other towns of like tef ther and mother, are either in their backward or straight- mination near the Euphrates ;t and it is very remarkforward spelling the origin of nearly all the words in the European languages denoting FATHER and MOTHER. • I would beg leave to suggest, with all becoming humility, to Pro
fessor Dunbar, whether this root is not the etymon of the Greek para In Chaldee, several words are just the Hebrew written noun autos, SELF. It is certain that the Sanskrit AUTMEN (Greek backwards. The Latin PLUMBUM, lead, is from the auryen) signifies BREATR, SOUL, SPIRIT, SELF ; and it is certain Greek ponubdos-F0
:-FORMA from pogon_NUM from puwi.. that the Oriental NBF#SH, signifying BREATH or spirit, appear LIGNUM from Euroy--(English, a log)- NARIS from gov. be used in the Hebrew, as it undoubtedly is in the Arabic, for sent Our English words, cow, LAMB, are from VACCA and SOUL, but I do not know if it can be traced to any root harios
import. It is the German SELBST, and there, I believe, it ends of this change we have manifest proof in swabsy becoming exas. I'tensive sweep of possession from the southern shores of the Caspieri