Thaur, whence undoubtedly the Greek | delivers it as the received opinion of and Latin, rauę, and Taurus. The Goat, from a word which denotes roughness. The Swine from another, alluding to the smallness of its eyes. The Dog from Celeb, from the Hebrew Club, and the Arabian Calub, which signifies a pair of tongs or pincers, from the firmness of his teeth and holdfast; so remarkable, that a true mastiff will let his legs be cut off, before he will quit his hold. To instance in no more, though it were easy, from the before-mentioned author, to run through all sorts of creatures; I mean, that all, or most other languages, at least in our part of the world, are derived from them, as Avenarius has endeavoured to make good throughout his whole Lexicon; and that in many, and I think most words, with at least as little or less violence than our common etymologists use in works of that nature, when they fetch the original of their words nearer hand. And though it may be true, that learned men may sometimes stretch things farther than they will go, by indulging too much to their fancies, especially in these etymologies; yet I think, the fore-cited great man (Bochart) has proved the Punic and Phoenician language to be all one, and both a dialect of the Hebrew, and most of the names of countries, islands, pro- | montories, and remarkable places, in Europe, as well as further, from them to have taken their originals; as, amongst the rest, our own island, the etymology of which from Baratanack, answerable to the Caesciterides of the Greeks, no learned man is now ignorant of. However, thus much I am certain of, that all or most other languages are visibly derived, at least, as has been said, those about us; but as to the Hebrew, it centres in itself, and we can have it no further: for which reason, as well as those before-mentioned, I conclude it to be the primitive language, spoken by Adam in Paradise, as, to be sure it must be, if he named all creatures there with Hebrew his countrymen, in his Antiquities, cap. 2, p. 4, of the English translation. Among the trees of Eden, says he, were the tree of life, and another, the tree of knowledge. So the scripture seems also not obscurely to assert, thus Gen. ii. 9. Out of the ground God made every tree to grow :-the tree of life also, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. And yet more plainly after the fall, chap. iii. verse 22. Behold, says God, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: (that is, upon his eating of the tree of knowldege of good and evil)-and now lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever.-What is the meaning of that also, if the trees were all one; and what would it be, but a distinction, without a difference; nay, a fruitless caution, and besides an impossible one, if he was to be turned out of Paradise, lest he should eat of that tree, of which he had eaten already? Besides, the effects of the tree of life were life, as appears both from its name, and from the supposition here made, that on the tasting thereof, man might live for ever; nor can I see any need of an irony, which is commonly supposed in this place. Whereas the effects of the tree of knowledge were quite contrary. In the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die;and what can differ more from life than death? In the mean time, I must acknowledge, that there are some conjectures from the history, which seem to make for the other side, and which would persuade me it might be one tree only. In chap. ii. ver. 9, beforementioned, we read the tree of life also in the midst of the garden. And chap. iii. ver. 3, the woman tells the serpent, (who very probably had but a confused knowledge of those things, before he got it out of the woman, as it should seem by his first guess to her,) she tells him the forbidden tree was that which was in the midst of the garden. It is plain, the tree they ate of, was the tree of knowledge; the tree they ate of, was that in the midst of the garden. The tree of life was in the midst of the garden; therefore one would think, the tree of knowledge should be the tree of life. But, notwithstanding this, I am rather inclined to my former opinion, and believe it is not very difficult to get clear of this objection, because there might be two trees planted about the middle of the garden, encompassed perhaps by all the rest, (which if once granted, the difficulty would vanish;) and because the words in the 9th verse of the 2d chapter may be transposed, or falsely pointed, an alteration in either of which would make the sense very plain. If, for the tree of life, in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil, I should read -the tree of life, and, in the midst of the garden, the tree of knowledge of good and evil; that phrase, in the midst of the garden, would belong to the following words, the tree of knowledge of good and evil; not the tree of life, which goes before. This is my judgment, from which I shall not be angry, if any differ; and I shall alter my own, when they give better reasons. From another correspondent we have received the following observations respecting the latter of the preceding questions. Observations on the Tree of Life, &c. TO THE EDITOR OF THE IMPERIAL MAGAZINE. OBSERVING Some queries in your No. for August, (col. 576,) relative to the Trees of Knowledge and Immortality, I recollected I had in my possession some remarks, which, a considerable time past, I wrote on this and other passages in the sacred writings. These notes are brief, for it would require a volume to develop all that might be added in illustration and proof of what I have advanced; but perhaps it may elicit some observations from your correspondents, that may throw greater light on the subject. I am, your's, respectfully, IPOLPUROC. Among the objects of creative power, of which an account is given by Moses, there are two, the nature of which appears to have been generally misunderstood. It is beyond a doubt, that the breach of the law of God stains the soul with guilt, and must have made even Adam offensive to his Maker. But a guilty mind is not propagated to the offspring; nor, on the other hand, is the renovation of the divine image conveyed by natural generation; and therefore as the propagaNo. 8.-VOL. I. tion of man's present nature (which the word of God pronounces to be evil) is evident from experience, we must look somewhat further to discover the effects of the tree of knowledge on the human state. Man consists of an immaterial principle, and of a material part or body; the body also consists of simply organized parts, and a superadded portion called life. The latter pair finds him on a level with the brute, and the former principle places him nearer to the angelic state. In his primitive condition, the animal powers were capable of conveying perfect sensations; and the organs of thought being also perfect, all reasoning was correct and clear. The passions and subordinate feelings, which arise from the junction of life with body, and which, to be right, require the organs to have no other than their due share and quality of nervous energy, were also in their proper state of subjection to the superior faculties. The operation of the deleterious fruit unsettled all this harmony, lowering the powers of that part of the animal by which the superior faculties were exercised, and excited to undue action those by which his lower passions were developed; and in this situation he scarcely waited for temptation to stain the hitherto spotless whiteness of his mind; for we must observe, that though the soul could not govern, it had not lost its power of discerning right from wrong. When man by his misconduct had so far altered the essential properties of the body which God had given him, he became unworthy to dwell longer in the paradise of delight: but there was another reason besides justice that caused him to be expelled from Eden; and mercy had a share in what appeared a harsh command. The tree of life was there, the fruit of which was able to renew the stamen of the body, and to prevent the waste of what physiologists call its irritable powers. Itis observed that every individual is endued with a definite portion of excitability, or life, which nothing in nature will enable us to recruit. By this means it is that the arteries, which yesterday performed their offices of circulation and nutrition with vigour and effect, to-morrow shall do it in a less perfect manner; and the absorbents, which are destined to remove the deteriorated parts, will after a time leave their functions half per 3 B formed. The tree of life, which in man's perfect state was desirable, in order to convey to him a renewed portion of excitability or vitality; in his deteriorated condition, would only have served to immortalize that which had better be destroyed. Death was necessary, in the new order of things, that man might lay down deranged organs, and rise again in that incorruptible state which is necessary to the perfection of his being; and hence we see how full of mercy was the Divinity when he prevented man from eating of the tree of life, and living for ever. It will appear, then, that I consider the two trees here mentioned, as acting on the body of man by their physical properties, in the same manner as Peruvian bark proves a tonic, and jalap a purge. That this is the case in regard to the tree of evil, appears evident from the corporal effects evident to our senses, and which alone could be conveyed, as an hereditary disease, to the offspring; and that the case is similar with regard to the tree of life, is evident from the expression of the Almighty before alluded to, and from the care displayed in keeping man from afterwards approaching it. TO PREVENT THE DRY ROT. IT has been observed that this destructive inmate, the Dry Rot, generally makes its first appearance in cellars, or such parts of our habitations as are most exposed to damps. Many attempts have been made, both to cure and to prevent it, which have been attended with various degrees of suc cess. Among the causes of prevention, the following has been strongly recommended to public notice. When persons are preparing to whitewash their cellars or rooms, if they will mix so much copperas with their composition, as will give to the wash a clear yellow hue, and repeat this annually, it will prove an excellent preventive of the dry rot where it has not begun, and will arrest its progress where it has already taken place. The efficacy of this simple specific is said to be founded upon numerous experiments, not one of which has failed. As the trial will be attended with very little trouble or expense, the probability of success will certainly justify the risk of a disappointment. ON FRIENDSHIP. By a Lady. "You may take sarza, to remove a disease of the liver; "steel, to disperse the spleen; flowers of sulphur, for the "lungs; and castorium, for the brain: but no receipt "openeth the heart but a true Friend, to whom you may "impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, "and whatever lieth upon, and oppresseth the heart." Lord Bacon. THE sentiments of a man whose talents were so justly admired, and whose character was so highly estimated, as that of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, can scarcely fail making an impression upon the mind of every reflecting individual; and it is evident he had both tried, and found, the animating power of Friendship, before he made the preceding declaration. In a succeeding part of the Essay, his lordship's sentiments are equally judicious and impressive; and there is something peculiarly beautiful in his comparison between the surrounding Atmosphere and Friendship; "for Friendship (says he) not only maketh a fair-day in the affections, shielding them from storm and tempest, but maketh day-light shine upon the understanding, out of confusion and darkness; for the senses clarify (he adds) by communication, and our thoughts become arranged into an orderly attack. Neither is the opening of the understanding restrained to such Friends as are capable of giving wise counsel, for the very unbosoming of the thoughts teaches a man to reflect; and he had better attach himself, and speak aloud, to a statue or a picture, than suffer all sensations to evaporate in his own breast." This evaporation of thought, or rather of feeling, can only be practised by the insensible or apathetic; for beings who are endowed with a susceptibility of disposition, must select some individual, to participate in their sentiments, to share their griefs, enjoy their prosperity, and become a partner in every pleasurable sensation which arises. Surely solitary pleasures can never be substantial! even a picturesque prospect appears bereft of half its charm, if beheld without a companion with whom we can admire the works of creation! If we are incapable of enjoying inanimate perfection, without some animated being to participate in our emotions, how much more essential is such an associate, where our interest, our happiness, or to that sex who are destined to make more conspicuous figures in the world; yet if the female heart could be laid open to inspection, I am inclined to be our tranquillity, may be concerned? or where doubting judgment hangs suspended, whether it ought to retreat or | pursue its course. In the latter case, particularly, how beneficial must believe we should behold many instances of exalted attachment;-in short, all those virtues which give grace to the feminine character, are peculiarly calculated to inspire Friendship and affection. the counsel of a Friend, in whose judgment we can place implicit confidence! and who, from not being a party concerned in the important transaction, coolly beholds it, through all its devious ramifications. 66 The counsel of Though females have been accused a friend in such a situation, (observes of a versatility of disposition inimical Lord Bacon,) "it is always better to to permanent association, I know sefollow, than any self-interested sugges-veral instances of Friendships formed tions." at an early period, which have only been terminated by dissolution. That a sentiment which possesses the power of augmenting our joys and diminishing our sorrows, should be cultivated, and that we should seek it with an ardour proportioned to its inestimable value, is doubtless a pursuit at once natural and laudable; yet, in that pursuit, unfortunately, we often mistake the shadow for the substance. Pleasing manners, polished courtesy, and insinuating accomplishments, are too often the mere foundation on which we erect an altar to Friendship; whilst the heart, the temper, and the propensities, are scarcely thought of, instead of being studied. Friendship has appropriately been termed the balm of existence; it is a gem, whose value is not to be calculated; a treasure, which royalty cannot purchase, and which none but the virtuous and the amiable must ever hope to possess! The more youthful part of my readers will doubtless be astonished at this assertion, whilst memory furnishes them with such a variety of instances of Friendship; all which, I must candidly assure them, are mere associations, formed upon mutual convenience. In an extensive intercourse with the world, real Friendship is scarcely to be hoped for, much less expected; and in a successive association with varying characters, it is scarcely possible to discover the essential qualities of a Friend. In the calm sequestrations which fashion even decrees to her greatest votaries, young persons may be more fortunate; for the intercourse which takes place in the country, is of a different description to that which prevails in the metropolis-families of rank and fortune alternately assimilate in each other's houses, and by that means acquire knowledge of dispositions and propensities. In favour of this opinion, I cannot avoid quoting that judge of human nature, Dr. Johnson; who informs us, we can acquire a greater knowledge of the real character of our acquaintance by a three weeks' residence in their own houses, than by three times three years occasional association. Various are the instances recorded in sacred and ancient history, of disinterested Friendship subsisting between characters of the most exalted and dignified description; instances, which at once do honour to human nature, and add dignity to that refined sentiment. Though history has confined her proofs of this noble passion, Though I consider religion too sacred a subject for frequent conversation, yet in confidential intercourse it must occasionally be introduced; if merely animadverting upon a sermon, which the parties may recently have heard: and if the slightest degree of levity is attached to such conversation, I would exclaim, Beware of entering into the bonds of Friendship! Filial affection, is the next imposing duty to piety; and which of course includes passive obedience to those whose motives are almost invariably instigated by tenderness and affection: but if parental commands are resisted, or complied with reluctantly, the head is either weak, or the heart corrupted; consequently such a character was not ordained by nature to become a sincere Friend. A compassionating disposition, is a necessary qualification in those characters with whom we have an intention of forming a Friendship; in short, I am inclined to believe, that persons destitute of sensibility are totally incapable of attachment. A general probity of conduct in the most minute circumstances, forms a necessary virtue in the character of a Friend: at the same time, I would not have it supposed, that human nature can be totally free from blemish; or that perfection is to be expected in a creature so frail, or so faulty, as man. "Genuine and perfect Friendship (observes a philosophical writer) can only exist between persons of integrity, and refinement of feeling; it is a tacit covenant, entered into between persons of sensible and virtuous dispositions. I say sensible, (he adds,) because a monk or a recluse may not be wicked, and yet live without knowing any thing of Friendship: and I say virtuous, because the vicious have only accomplices, the voluptuous have only companions, the interested have associates; but the virtuous, and the virtuous only, can expect to enjoy the sweets of Friendship." The justly admired Dr. Young, in Night the Second, evidently entertains a similar opinion to this celebrated philosopher; and appealing to Lorenzo, inquires whether he was acquainted with that exalted passion. "Knows't thou, Lorenzo! what a Friend contains? "Joy flies monopolists; it calls for two; As the advice which that pious divine has given respecting Friendship, is applicable to my subject, I shall unhesitatingly insert it, for the instruction of my readers; conceiving the sentiments of a man so universally respected are likely to be more impressive than my own. "What if, (since daring on so nice a theme,) "I shew thee Friendship delicate as dear, "Of tender violations apt to die! "Reserve will wound it-and Distrust destroy! "Deliberate on all things with thy Friend; "But since Friends grow not thick on ev'ry bough, "Nor ev'ry Friend unrotten at the core, "First on thy Friend delib'rate with thyself; "Pause, ponder, sift; not eager in the choice, "Nor jealous of the chosen; fixing, fix; "Judge before Friendship,-then confide till Death." These few lines are so full of instructive counsel, that they may be said to contain a perfect volume; and, like the maxims of an ancient philo sopher, deserve to be written in characters which time cannot efface. The difficulty of finding a real Friend, is truly poetical; and the simile of that purity of heart which is necessary to render Friendship intrinsically valuable, is figuratively described by the unsoundness of the core; whilst deliberating upon the character, and the propensities, previous to entering into the bonds of Friendship, may at once be termed a necessary and useful lesson. That confidence, which the contract requires, when once sacredly formed between two persons, is no less instructive and beautiful: in short, a sufficient number of extracts might be selected from that admired author, to compose a moderate-sized volume. That solicitude which parents naturally feel for the pure welfare of their offspring, induces them to impress sentiments of the greatest precaution respecting that sentiment termed Love; whilst that of Friendship, on which, their future happiness in a great measure depends, is too often passed over in total silence. So numerous have been the instances of the subsequent misfortunes which have arisen from these ill-fated associations, that the interest I take in the happiness of the youthful part of my own, the female sex, will, I trust, act as an apology for prolixity and precaution. At an early period of life, a heart, prone to sensibility, imperceptibly selects some object, on which to place the softer affections; and, if the tender tie of brother and sister is excluded, reposes all its emotions in Friendship's fostering bosom. The solitude of individuality, gives an ardency to these attachments, unknown to those whose affections branch out into a variety of different channels; and we expect to find in the bonds of Friendship all those endearing sensations which accompany the ties of nature. That this expectation should so frequently become fallacious, doubtless is greatly to be deplored; yet the frequency, I am of opinion, is to be attributed to the eagerness with which young persons enter into these associations. Though a suspicious and distrustful mind is incapable of Friendship, yet in a contract, where our happiness must be interwoven with that of another person's, it surely becomes a matter of importance to acquire a knowledge of the leading traits of that person's cha |
