actual incarnations of the system they taught, even if they refused the temptation of claiming adoration for their own persons. The actual Baudh of Ceylon might thus very well differ from his brother of Hindoostan, and the disclaimer of the latter personally by the priests of the former be perfectly correct. It is hard to follow a contrary course and insist that these two last were one and the same, in defiance of the natives of the country, in spite, too, of their traditional knowledge, and merely because we, as strangers, know nothing of both or either.

It does not, however, by any means follow that the objected difference of orthography, in this or any other instance, or even a different process in derivation, constitutes a radical difference in words. We know not why they should in these cases be so continually rejected, as some, and really sound, philologists are wont to do. While it is certain that many words of nearly similar sound have in the fluctuations of early and imperfectly cultivated languages come to be considered as one, it is on the other hand beyond question that two distinct or separated races will draw different derivations from the same root. Irregularities too may interpose from causes with which we are imperfectly acquainted yet it would surely be too much to reject all, any more than to admit all, upon this sole ground. We are the more earnest on this point, because we conceive that analogies are sometimes rejected where affinities might be discovered; and an approximation to truth is consequently lost, because the passage is à priori supposed to be blocked up. Yet we have often observed that the most fastidious are apt to sin against their own rule; so strong is the inducement, and so consonant to natural feelings; which seldom, after all, wander widely from reason.

We have given in the Number so often referred to, a variety of instances of the changes of letters. Philology may then only hope to obtain a certain and effective guide, when, the variations being all ascertained, the words of one language shall be recognized, inspite of their transformation, in another. The ridicule that has so idly and ignorantly followed philological derivations may still continue its career, without deterring, as it has too often, the best qualified judges from proceeding in the course of discovery thus opened to them. When it is acknowledged that, not only among distant and distinct nations, but even amongst neighbouring and kindred races, the same word presents itself under two entirely different forms, that which appears a bar must prove an assistance if the principle of the changes is only attended to; and the progress of nations may thus be traced as satisfactorily by their language hereafter, as hitherto by their history.

If then this multiple process of derivation be admitted, and it

is surely not unreasonable to require it, the labours of philology will in reality be materially assisted and diminished, though at first sight the contrary may appear more probable. Were this last the case, however, the increase of difficulty could be no argument against the adoption of the principle, though it might raise one serious objection to our embracing it. The philologist himself must guard with even more strictness than at present against the host of errors to which the first admission would lead, inasmuch as the soundest truths are always the most liable to misapplication; and the principle of all legislation is, not the recognition of truth as a basis of its code, for this belongs to religion, --but to lower the standard down to practical right, in order to defend it against practicable wrong. So it must be in philology: and the only course that to us seems feasible is, to avoid conjectural processes of our own in the shape of derivation in ancient tongues; but, where points of contact and resemblances are found to exist, to admit the possible identity of their origin, and examine, to the best of our power, whether the differences do not arise from the different media through which they have passed in different deductions from one origin.

An instance of this kind lies before us in the writings of one of the soundest critics and philologists of the age: and it may serve as an illustration. Various derivations are given of a word (of affinity), each formed by a different people or tribe: in all, the derivative corresponds both in sound and signification. But, had the word been found only in the language of two, and had the signification in one of these two been partially perverted,―for the derivation of ideas often differs from that of the words that originate them,— had a letter or syllable been added or taken away, as suited the enunciation of the speakers, and our former number gives ample evidence of this fact (xxxv, p. 141): would it be right to conclude that the words were ab initio essentially different? The learned writer we allude to, would certainly not commit this error, but there are many who might, and would, and have done it constantly. Our vigilance should be equally active against assonant primitives and for dissonant derivatives.

We take the word Bodh as existence in its simplest state, such as the Hermetic and Magian loved to consider it of old, and such as their most distant disciples in Hither and Farther India to this day devote themselves to become, by perfect abstraction: the doctrine is little changed. Here then we have the connecting link between Bodh, Buddh, Bhuva, and T, or Jehovah, as Deity, existing, aged or permanent; Bodhi, wisdom, is his attribute: and darkness, void and waste, the Baavr, or Baau of Phoenicia and Greece, is the Hebrew, Bohu or original state. The San

scrit Bada, or death, the abstraction of life, the return of the soul to its original deified existence as a part of the one divinity or power, is hereby rendered an intelligible derivative; and now we understand why obscurity and nonentity become to living thought disagreeable, bad. Hence this last word, the reputed anomaly of the Persian and Saxon language, and opprobrium of philologists, bears the legitimate stamp of its derivation; and may probably also, in the former tongue, be connected with bad, the wind, derived equally, but differently, from breath or existence. It is thus that, in every language, we find contrarieties in excess unite. The budding, or coming into acknowledged existence, is but another process of the same root through the mind.

Of the tribes who are described as settled on the banks of the Indus, and whose influence was felt through the peninsula, there can be no question that some were, as Deguignes supplies the fact, Tatars. Indeed the languages of this lower portion of India all partake strongly of the Scythian or Perso-Scythian, which appears the principal basis of the Tamul and its offspring, though with a large admixture of Scytho-Tatar words, that so strongly imbue the Bali, and are also found in the Sanscrit. The legends of the Tamu!, and of India in general, all point to the west and north-west. The traces of customs, superstitions, and creeds, seem all attributable to that source. We notice, casually, as instances, the same elision or substitution of letters; the same name Maghadya, the Magician tongue of Oude: the Sindbad story of the Deval Payan, the Men with leathern feet, the buskined Scythian tribe, the ancient Dranga or Zaranga: SarYanghi, the chiefs of the White Race, or the Old Men of the Sea, (Yanga, lake, or large body of water): the Zend word agrees with the Hebrew, yam, the m being nasal, as in Arabic and Sanscrit: take also the Lammer-Geyer, or Garuda, Welsh arwr; &c. &c.

In the same vein we would remark the Kalystrii of Ctesias, the dogheaded, xuvoxepaλoì, that have called for Professor Wilson's illustration as the Darada, or tearers-destructives, we suppose. They inhabited the mountains to the Indus, were fairer thau the natives, and wore black garments, (for such is the signification that learned writer accepts for Kalystrii,) kála-vastri. The Scythians of Herodotus are mentioned in one tribe as Malanchlani, a fact that appears to have escaped Mr. Wilson's observation: and, if the assertion of their human food is an interpolation or misplacement, (as Larcher reasonably considered it, from the tribes in his notice; the fair complexion is incompatible with the Anthropophagi,) at least their vicinity to that nation or tribe, renders their present barbarity a point of resemblance to their former

state. The dogs'-heads, teeth, and claws, recall the people represented by the Egyptian sphinxes; for which reason we should, with due deference to the learned Professor, prefer to the Sanscrit darada, to tear, the Zend daryaiti, supporter or defender. It will be recollected that the Calasiri, or black-vested military tribe of Egypt, the closest possible affinity to the name in Ctesias, to the Malanchlani of Herodotus, and to the Siah Posh of these Indians, were led by Sesostris to Colchis as a colony, and probably migrated east. It is probable that Heeren confounds two tribes in his notice; for the fair complexion is incompatible with the black race and woolly hair (schwarzes Volk mit Wollhaar).

On this subject we must hope Professor Wilson will also pardon us for another suggestion to his valuable notes on Ctesias. We refer to the people with tails, which the learned Professor illustrates from the dress of the Nicobar islanders. Singularly enough, Egyptian relics furnish us also with specimens of these, worn in imitation of animals—and the like may be seen also on an antique Etruscan vase amongst Signor Campanari's Etrurian curiosities and tombs, now exhibiting in Pall Mall.

We can further turn to the Shatrya tribe, in whose name we think the Shah of the west, and the tirea of India (women) meet. It is not easy to refuse our assent to the existence of a race of Amazons, attested by ancient and modern history also; but a laudable scepticism might doubt whether antiquity did not merely exaggerate or misrepresent as a nation of female. warriors, a nation that had women for kings. Such, we find, was the rule in many a Scythian country, from Tomyris to the Queen of Sheba and Thalestris: and the Salic law possibly derived its origin from an opposite custom, and a hostile feeling to the Scythians. If we examine too the vicinity of the Thermodoon and Euxine, we shall find tribes remarkable for their personal appearance and hence, as in Circassia, and from the love of ornament evinced by so many of the Scythian cultivated natives, a feminine appearance led to the natural conclusion: and this the rather, as in her reputed visit to Alexander, the Queen of the Amazons would naturally be attended by women round her immediate person in preference to men, though from their necessarily active habits the dress of the two sexes might almost correspond. On the subject of female heroism, we give Mr. Wilson's tale of an Amazon.

"When the broken remains of the army returned to Delhi, the sultan was highly incensed at the cowardice of the commanders, and raising a larger force, placed it under the orders of Mátangi, a female warrior of a low tribe. On learning this new danger, Kampila retired with his family and treasure to Hosakota, leaving to Rama the defence of Gumati. As soon as the enemy appeared at this place, Rama marched to their en

counter, and drove them back four kos. But subsequently Mátangi seduced the Telugu soldiers in Rama's army, and they treacherously introduced the enemy into the fort during the night. When Rama was apprised of what had occurred, he sprang from bed, and bastened to the battle, desiring his wives to prepare for their fate in case they should hear of his death. Proceeding to the scene of conflict, he speedily plunged into the thickest of the affray, where, encountering Mátangi, he seized her nose-ring, and shaking it, told her, he disdained to take the life of a woman. His bravest soldiers, surprised and overpowered by numbers, fell fast around him, and he was left alone. After maintaining the conflict for a long time, and killing vast numbers of his assailants, he was at last slain, and Mátangi cut off his head, and carried it to Delhi. The sultan placed the head on the palace gate, where, in the night, it made so hideous an outcry, that he was glad to get rid of it, and it was thrown into a ditch four kos remote. There the cry was repeated, so that numbers died of the fright it occasioned. The sultan ordered it to be carried to a still greater distance, but every attempt made by men and elephants to move it from the spot proved ineffectual. In this dilemma it was suggested that the bards of Rama should be employed to recite his praises; and messengers were sent to Kampila to solicit their assistance. Devaya, their chief, was accordingly sent; but his panegyrics at first were in vain. At last, being so instructed in a vision, he saluted Rama as the subduer of the sultan of Delhi, the supreme sovereign of the world on which he was able to lift the head with ease. Being permitted to take it away, he carried it to Kampila, who, after weeping over it, sent it to Kási, to be plunged into the holy waters of Ganges. -Wilson, vol. ii. pp. 40, 41.

We must notice that the name Magadhya, the first syllable of which is the Persian mage, the Hebrew, the Chaldee ND, the Greek payol, and the Indian maya, magic or delusion, is the Arabic epithet magh for the west and for magicians also: and the double sense is explained by the fact of geographical position. Maghrab is simply the contraction of Western Arabians or Arabian Sages, the enchanters of the dread African Dom-Daniel, as we recall the name of Maugrabi, the magician, in the Arabian tales. Various other points of resemblance, such as Ilur, the son of Vaivaswata, with the Alorus of Assyria, make us pause with anxiety for further details of the Madura kingdom and history, which is evidently of singular antiquity, and as a point of connection may throw strong light hereafter upon the establishments of Balkh, Benares, and the sea coast.

Intimately connected too with its history is the language, of which Mr. Taylor gives even less account than Professor Wilson, though he notices its absence of the aspirate; changing hinto k in its adoption from the Sanscrit, and in some places sh into l. Professor Wilson remarks its narrow alphabet, of sixteen letters; a proof that it could not have been formed from a late and more enlarged