[16] 2 [Greek: Epea pteroenta] literally _winged words_. To explain the use and origin of this phrase to non-classical readers, it must be understood that, originally, it was used by Homer to express the few, rapid, and significant words which conveyed some hasty order, counsel, or notice, suited to any sudden occasion or emergency: _e.g._ "To him flying from the field the hero addressed these winged words--'Stop, coward, or I will transfix thee with my spear.'" But by Horne Tooke the phrase was adopted on the title-page of his _Diversions of Purley_, as a pleasant symbolic expression for all the non-significant particles, the _articuli_ or joints of language, which in his well-known theory are resolved into abbreviations or compendious forms (and therefore rapid, flying, _winged_ forms), substituted for significant forms of greater length. Thus, _if_ is a non-significant particle, but it is an abbreviated form of an imperative in the second person--substituted for gif, or give, or grant the case--put the case that. All other particles are shewn by Horne Tooke to be equally short-hand (or _winged_) substitutions. [17] It has been rather too much forgotten that Africa, from the northern margin of Bilidulgerid and the Great Desert, southwards--everywhere, in short, beyond Egypt, Cyrene, and the modern Barbary States--belongs, as much as America, to the New World, the world unknown to the ancients. I have described the gorgeousness of my expectations in those early days of my prelusive acquaintance with German literature. I have a little lingered in painting that glad aurora of my first pilgrimage to the fountains of the Rhine and of the Danube, in order adequately to shadow out the gloom and blight which soon afterwards settled upon the hopes of that golden dawn. In Kant, I had been taught to believe, were the keys of a new and a creative philosophy. Either "_ejus ductu_," or "_ejus auspiciis_"--that is, either directly under his guidance, or indirectly under any influence remotely derived from his principles--I looked confidingly to see the great vistas and avenues of truth laid open to the philosophic inquirer. Alas! all was a dream. Six weeks' study was sufficient to close my hopes in that quarter for ever. The philosophy of Kant--so famous, so commanding in Germany from about the period of the French Revolution--already, in 1805, I had found to be a philosophy of destruction, and scarcely in any one chapter so much as _tending_ to a philosophy of reconstruction. It destroys by wholesale, and it substitutes nothing. Perhaps, in the whole history of man, it is an unexampled case that such a scheme of speculation--which offers nothing seducing to human aspirations, nothing splendid to the human imagination, nothing even positive and affirmative to the human understanding--should have been able to found an interest so broad and