4 itself for shame1; while in the legend, which records the transportation of the chapel of the Virgin to Loretto, Nature herself is said to have leaped in transport; and the oaks to bow themselves. In another example3, the polar star is made to hide itself in anger. Tasso describes Erminia as addressing the trees, as if they were capable of recording her sorrow. Petrarch has an instance in a sonnet, addressed to the scenes of Vaucluse; nor is it possible to observe a more beautiful example, than that in Thomson's concluding hymn; or in that where Adam, after the first discovery of his consciousness, addresses the various objects around him, and desires them to inform him, whence he derived his existence. What an affecting instance, too, is that, exhibited in a passage of Sophocles, where Philoctetes, bending with anguish, bursts out "O mountains, rocks, and savage herds, Must breathe my sorrows!-You are wont to hear My sad complaints; and I will tell you all, That I have suffer'd from Achilles' son." Sophocles.-Franklin. Æschylus, also, in his tragedy of Prometheus: Ethereal air, and ye swift-winged winds, Ye rivers, springing from fresh founts, ye waves, Your crisped smiles; thou all-producing earth, Fasti. lib. iv. v. 167. 3 Vossius de Idol. lib. ii. c. 30. 5 Son. xxxii. 2 Misson. vol. i. 332. * Jer. Del. c. vii. Par. Lost. b. vi. And thee, bright sun, I call, whose flaming orb I suffer from the Gods'. A still more affecting instance occurs in Lear, where the unfortunate monarch, in the midst of a violent storm, exclaims Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters :- Lear, act iii. sc. 2. A curious instance of giving to natural objects the feelings of humanity occurs in Plutarch; where he relates, that when Parmenio objected to Alexander's passing over the Granicus, at a late hour of the day, Alexander replied—" The Hellespont would blush, if, after having passed it, I should be afraid of the Granicus!" It is not improbable, that the speech of Alexander might have suggested the idea of those elegant Latin lines of Crashaw, whence Dryden borrowed that celebrated line— The conscious water saw its God and blush'd! And here permit me to answer the question, one of your late letters proposed to me, viz. Whether I have ever seen a perfect landscape? No! For never have these eyes beheld a country, rising into mountains like Savoy; 1 Potter. 2 This is, however, sometimes pursued, to the utter perversion of sense and taste. Balzac has an instance, vid. Belles Lettres, Rollin, p. 137, 8, and ii. p. 124: a still more puerile one in Erasmus Warren's Exceptions to Burnet's Theory of the Earth, p. 234. diversified with valleys like Italy; abounding in vines like Madeira; perfumed with flowers like Congo; studded with lakes equal to those of Switzerland; or, scented with spices and plantains like Ceylon and the Moluccas embrowned with forests like Madagascar ; whitened with rocks of alabaster, like those beyond the coast of Archangel; abounding in retired recesses, like Juan Fernandez; in open groves and herds of cattle, like the island of Tinian; in castles like those, which adorn the banks of the Loire; in palaces, like the palaces of Florence; among all which stand cottages, bespeaking cleanliness, comfort, and innocence. These are a combination of pictures the fancy presents, when it meditates on the superlative beauty of the planet Venus; upon whose scenes of splendour the imagination seems, as if it could repose, for ages, with a rapture, which poets and philosophers can alone picture in the bosom of love; when peace reigns in the recesses of the soul; and the music of Paradise heightens every benefit they reap, and every blessing they enjoy. CHAPTER III. THE ancient mythologists indicated their love of Nature by their transformations. Hyacinthus was fabled to have been turned into a violet; Phaeton's sisters into poplars; Daphne into a laurel; and Phillis, the daughter of Sithon, into an almond. The history of this transformation is one of the most beautiful in all the ancient mythology. Countries, too, not unfrequently derived their names from the peculiarity of their scenery: and there is not a single department in all France, that does not acquire its appellation from rivers and mountains, or from some distinguishing feature of the soil and country. The ancient Britons appear to have excelled all other nations in the appropriation of spots, on which to build their towns and villages: and the names were adapted to their relative situations. This circumstance, in some degree, serves to corroborate an old tradition among them, that they were originally a colony from Phenicia; for it undoubtedly affords a curious indication of the similarity, that once subsisted between the old British customs, and those of the ancient Hebrews. We learn from Aulus Gellius', that it was a frequent question among ancient writers, whether words were imposed arbitrarily, or whether they were the result of an association with objects in Nature. It is not to be questioned, but that all names were originally significant; both general and appellative and that the natives of Chili named their children after hills and rivers is confirmed by Molina2. The British frequently derived their names from colours; the Romans named their children from virtues and qualities; and the natives of Congo from flowers, precious stones, and other natural objects. Men originally used a language so plain, and so sensible to the ear and the comprehension, that there was not even one compound: every thing being expressed by a word, the very sound of which marked the meaning omen. with a precision, that left no room for misunderstanding. Plato says, that this language was that, in which the gods were accustomed to speak. In respect to names, I cannot but think, that a good name is a good The Romans well knew the value of association: their generals, therefore, seldom failed to give, as a watchword to their armies, some word, significative of success; as Liberty, Felicity, Venus, Fortune, Wisdom, Courage, and Victory. It were well, if parents were to permit their children to select their own names; and that they might be led to choose after men, who had been eminent in the sphere, in which themselves are destined to move. Thus he, who has a military or a naval inclination, might adopt the names of Marlborough or Raleigh, Wellington or Nelson. Those, selecting the church, Fenelon, Huet, Sherlock, or Tillotson; while medical inclinations would point to Galen, Boerhaave, Hunter, Sydenham, or Harvey. The very adoption of these names might lead to an excellence, even superior to that, which adorned those illustrious characters themselves. After a similar manner, the names of good men and women, might be given to trees, as well as stars; to flowers, to rivers, and rivulets; to springs and fountains ; and indeed every object, which is common to all, should be dignified with the names of those, who have been benefactors to their neighbourhoods. II. But if men have derived many of their names from the smaller creations of nature, they have returned the obligation, and given to plants, rivers, mountains, and |