there are some people who find good handwriting unattainable in spite of the most persevering efforts. For instance, Byron's penmanship was rude and unfinished in youth, and in later life it be came wretched. Macaulay, too, though he polished his periods with the greatest care, wrote an unlovely scrawl. It may be supposed that Dean Stanley had" the use of his eyes and of his right hand," but his "copy" was so illegible that the printers charged half-a-crown a sheet extra for setting it up. The late Lord Houghton, however, put them all in the shade; his handwriting was so ineffably bad that it was often a sheer impossibility to read it.

In olden times the doughty barons of England wielded the sword and the battle-axe with prodigious vigor, but disdained the pen as fit only for monks and priests. Even kings were sometimes lamentably ignorant. Henry I. had indeed some taste for literature and lampreys; but his great-grandson, King John, of unhappy memory, was not similarly blessed. The original "Magna Charta," which may still be seen in the British Museum, does not appear to be signed by the king or any of his barons with their own hands. Possibly some of them may have been reluctant to remove their steel gloves; though there is no doubt that many a proud noble of that age was unable to sign his name. Later on, however, it was not considered a disgrace for the sovereign to know "the three Rs." Henry VIII. wrote a firm, bold hand, as might be expected from his temper. Queen Elizabeth wrote a pretty hand in her youth, but as she grew older it became more angular and irregular. The chirography of Mary, Queen of Scots, was like herself, elegant and graceful. Cromwell's hand was bold and determined the conqueror of Naseby and Worcester, of King, Lords, and Commons, was not likely to hold a hesitat ing pen. Charles II. wrote quickly and carelessly: he was too fond of pleasure to take pains. George IV.'s hand was large and flowing-a credit to "the first gentleman in Europe. Europe." Queen Victoria's writing shows the effects of age, but she still makes a capital signature.

Napoleon I. was never distinguished

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for excellence of penmanship. When he became Emperor he used to sign his name-"Napoleon"-at full length, though the signature was even then not remarkable for beauty. Later on it dwindled to Nap. Still later, a crooked hieroglyph, bearing some distant resemblance to an N, was the Emperor's sign-manual. His writing was indeed so hopelessly bad that Josephine is said to have taken one of his letters from Germany for a map of the seat of war! The Third Napoleon wrote a good legible hand.

As a rule, great generals have been but indifferent scribes. Washington, however, wrote a good hand; and so did Wellington in early life, but in his old age it became practically undecipherable.

Poetic bandwriting is of various degrees of excellence. Moore, Rogers, Coleridge, and Wordsworth all wrote a fair hand. Gray took almost as much pains with his caligraphy as he did with his " Elegy," which cost him seven years' labor. Addison wrote a large, clear hand, the letters well formed, but each too proud or too coy to touch its neighbor. Burns wrote a large, bold, manly hand: there is vigorous independence in every stroke of the pen. The Ettrick Shepherd's writing was crooked and ill formed. Leigh Hunt wrote his charming essays in a charming hand. Thomas Campbell's writing was sloping and not graceful: it lacked the force and fire which one would expect from the author of "Ye Mariners of England." W. C. Bryant wrote a small, carefully finished hand; while N. P. Willis wrote his "Pencillings by the Way" as if he were always in a hurry. H. W. Longfellow's writing was upright, round, open, heavy-a boon to printers. Bayard Taylor wrote a very fine hand. Lord Tennyson polished his poetry with the most loving care. So fastidious was he that he had his poems set up in type, to see how they looked in print before sending them to the publisher. His handwriting corresponded to his poetry in elegance, beauty, and finish. Henrik Ibsen, the Norse poet, writes a round, clear hand, sloping backward. Miss Olive Schreiner says of him that "he and George Meredith are the only men

of modern times who understand women." Nevertheless, Ibsen's portraiture of the ladies is sometimes the reverse of flattering.

Notwithstanding the lapse of time, Sir Walter Scott still occupies a commanding position among our novelists. In early life he wrote a legible hand, though, being

A clerk foredoomed his father's soul to cross, Who pens a stanza when he should engross, his stanzas displayed more character than his chirography. Toward the close of his career, when the great mind became obscured, his manuscript was crabbed, blurred, and altered so as to be almost unreadable. Fenimore Cooper appears to have written his numerous novels with a burned stick. Nathaniel Hawthorne's handwriting was irregular and indistinct. Dickens says he never copied, always sending the original draft of his works to the printer. The printer, however, would have been better pleased if Dickens had copied; for his manuscript is written in a galloping slapdash style, frequently blurred and altered, and very difficult for the compositor to set up. W. M. Thackeray's inanuscript is entirely the reverse. It is free from blots and erasures; the writing is clear, neat, regular, and nearly upright, the words well apart in short, a pleasure to read.

Generally speaking, our statesmen have been proficient in penmanship, though Lord Brougham's writing in his old age became nearly illegible. Pitt, Fox, Canning, Peel, Lord Derby, Earl Russell, all wrote a good hand. Lord Palmerston was distinguished among his colleagues for the beauty of his caligraphy. In his earlier years Mr. Glad stone's writing was clear and regular; and age has not withered the variety of his mind or deprived his right hand of its cunning.

Voltaire and Rousseau were both remarkable for clear and beautiful caligraphy. "Junius" wrote a fine, flexible, suggestive hand, though it failed to suggest the writer's identity. R. W. Emerson wrote a careless, irregular scrawl. O. W. Holmes writes a neat, clear, dainty hand, whose beauty the wear and tear of time have not destroyed. The genial Autocrat of the

Breakfast Table, who has lately given us "Over the Teacups," has written with the same gold pen for the last twenty years; and may that good gray head continue for another twenty years to enrich our literature and our lives with its noble thoughts!

About the beginning of the eighteenth century, ladies wrote a large, round, open hand, not much unlike the Italian. As the century grew older, the light, angular style of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers came into vogue. Feminine handwriting was then painfully uniform; individuality was almost unknown. Latterly, however, our girls have asserted their independence in this direction, as in so many others, and the Civil Service style is now much affected. Among ladies distinguished for the beauty of their penmanship-or penwomanship -- was Charlotte Brontë, who wrote a very small, very delicate, and carefully finished hand. Mrs. Hemans wrote in a free, flowing style. Elizabeth Barrett Browning's manuscript was very neat, and carefully punctuated, the writing being distinct and legible, though the letters were not well joined.

In 1833 a Baltimore literary paper offered two prizes-one for the best tale, and one for the best poem. The adjudicators attracted by the beauty and distinctness of the writing on one of the papers sent in, unanimously decided that the prizes should be paid to "the first of geniuses who had written legibly. Not another manuscript was unfolded." So says Rufus W. Griswold in his biography of that wayward American genius, Edgar Allan Poe. According to Mr. Ingram, however, this is not only erroneous, but absolutely false; and indeed it seems on the face of it incredible that a number of cultured gentlemen and leading citizens should dishonor themselves by deciding the merits of papers they had not examined. Mr. Ingram has succeeded in unearthing the published award, and therein it is stated: "Among the prose articles were many of various and distinguished merit; but the singular force and beauty of those sent by the author of The Tales of the Folio Club,' leave us no room for hesitation." So, after all, Poe did not owe his success to

his penmanship, exquisite as that undoubtedly was.

Some years afterward, Poe, in a series of "Papers on Autography," maintained that a man's character may be discovered in his handwriting. This thesis he enforced and illustrated with marvellous ingenuity. His genius was decidedly analytical, and the inferences he drew from the specimens he gave were very often accurate. While admitting that there is much truth in Poe's theory, it is equally true that handwriting is in many cases no certain index to character. The weather, the health, the nerves, feeling, passion, may agitate the mind and make the pen forget its wonted firmness.

If individual character influences individual handwriting, national character should influence national handwriting. Authorities tell us that such is the case; that the art of the Italian, the pride of the Spaniard, the vivacity of the Frenchman, are all displayed in their penmanship. It may be so; but, as a rule, it would take an expert or an enthusiast to tell the difference between the writing of the shrewd Scotsman, the staid Englishman, and the lively Irishman. German handwriting, however, is truly indicative of the national character it requires nearly as much patience to read it as to write it. On

the other hand, one seeks in vain to discover the temper of a Jew from the dots and points of Hebrew, or to decipher the character of Mr. Pitman from the phonetic alphabet.

In China, printing and writing are always respected, and the autographs of high dignitaries are revered. Upon ceremonious occasions a great man is attended by his servant, who hands him a small piece of paper every time he wishes to blow his nose. To use a pocket-handkerchief would be a Western innovation, and a shocking derogation from the dignity of a Mandarin. Printed or written paper is, however, never used for this purpose, being considered too sacred. The use of red ink is forbidden to all but the Emperor, who signs official documents in this flaming color. An autograph of Kang III., the contemporary of Louis XIV., has been sold in Peking for more than forty pounds. The Chinese seem to have anticipated the fashions and foibles as well as the arts and sciences of our own day. Their golden youth, with long pigtails and almond eyes, sat at competitive examinations when the conquering Norman was riding roughshod over our Saxon forefathers. Verily, there is nothing new under the sun!Chambers's Journal.

DR. ARTHUR GAMGEE has just completed the second volume of his text-book on The Phy siological Chemistry of the Animal Body," upon which he has been engaged for some years.

Like the first volume, it is intended

chamberlain and to the excise of the fif teenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, and they prove to be of such value that the Government has ordered their preservation. THE Letters of James Russell Lowell have

volume form.

Ar Venice, in some repairs at the ducal palace, there has been found among the woodwork of the ceiling of the western loggia a large number of accounts, partly on parchment and partly on paper, belonging to the

THE important "Luther find" made some time ago in the Rathsschulbibliothek at Zwickau moved the authorities of the town to commission the discoverer of the Lutherana to explore and arrange the manuscript treas. ures of their library. No fewer than 3000 letters of the Reformation period have been discovered. They are now catalogued and described, and can be consulted by historical students. The richness of the collection may be imagined from the fact that the letters are

by 391 writers : 224 are from printers, 295 from ecclesiastics and theologians, 349 from scholars, and 192 deal with mining. Nearly the whole of these letters were aldressed to Stephan Roch, the town clerk of Zwickau, who died in 1546.

PROFESSOR MAX MÜLLER has received from the King of Siam an offer of sufficient funds to guarantee the continuance of "The Sacred Books of the East." The money will be used, in the first place, for printing a translation of the remaining portions of the Buddhist Tripitaka.

THE taste for éditions de luxe of books, which some years ago was so pronounced, seems to have changed. A copy of this edition of Dickens's works has just been sold under the hammer in the provinces. The price realized was sixteen guineas.

MESSRS. SONNENSCHEIN & Co. have sent to press a work by Miss Edith Simcox, the author of "Natural Law." Its title will be "Primitive Civilizations," and its chief concern is to sketch the history of ownership and agrarian and economic conditions among ancient Egyptians and Babylonians, ancient and modern Chinese, and some scattered stocks of apparently kindred origin.

"THE ETHICAL LIBRARY" is the name of a new series of books, whose main purpose is to deal with the most prominent questions of the inner and outer life, which have been hitherto regarded as the monopoly of the theologian, from the point of view and in the spirit of the student of philosophy. Though the problems which will be discussed are old ones, the manner of treatment will be comparatively new, inasmuch as no doctrinal assumptions will be made with which the student of science and philosophy need find himself out of sympathy. The first volume, by Dr. Bernard Bosanquet, entitled " The Civilization of Christendom and Other Studies," is now ready; early volumes will appear from the pens of Mr. Leslie Stephen, Professor A. Sidgwick, Mr. David G. Ritchie, Dr. Sophie Bryant, and Mr. J. H. Muirhead, the editor. The London publishers are Messrs. Swan Sonnenschein & Co., and simultaneous editions will be issued by the New York house of

Messrs. Macmillan & Co.

THERE have been something like a hundred candidates for the editorship of the Quarterly Review-several of them men well known in

the world. It is not probable a definite choice will be made till the beginning of the year 1894.

MR. GEORGE MEREDITH ON AMERICAN INSTI TUTIONS. Mr. George Meredith has confided to a contributor to The Idler the facts that he "loves American institutions,' 29 16 adores the people," and deplores titles.' His somewhat late in-life fame," we are reminded, came largely at first in the land across the Atlantic. "Nations," Mr. Meredith remarks, have an individuality," and their people salient characteristics. If I am going to meet an Irishman or a Frenchman, I know I shall find certain traits, product of the finer nervous organization that comes from the Celtic blood. The Americans, too, have a finer set of nerves and a more refined apprehension than we have. There lies their hope. Their organization is more keen than ours. I discern it in some of their writings and in some of their methods. I foresee a great literary and artistic product there."

HITHERTO the world has been accustomed to look at the generality of German students as models of industry and plodding; we were, therefore, rather painfully surprised to hear that two of the most distinguished professors of the University of Berlin took occasion on the conclusion of their recent courses of lec. tures to express their great disappointment at the idleness now prevailing among the students of Germany. The venerable jurist Dr. Gneist pointed out the fact that it is impossible for students to make up by reading for the professorial lectures they have missed, while Professor Schmoller dwelt on the moral aspect of the students' negligence. If they disre. gard their duties as pupils, they cannot be expected to fulfil them as servants of the State. We believe that Professor Virchow also expressed himself publicly to the same effect.

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'WE have received," says the London Acad. emy, "a catalogue of choice, rare, curious, and valuable books, issued by Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons, of New York. The first subject for remark is that the books of American authors are conspicuous by their absence : even when binders are mentioned, the most frequent names are Riviere and Zaehnsdorf.

It is also curious to notice which of our own authors are in repute in the United States. First editions of Dickens and Thackeray, and illustrations by Cruikshank and Phiz, seem to be as much sought after there as here. Among

the moderns, there is a special demand for Robert Bridges and William Watson, and for the issues of Mr. Daniel's private press at Oxford. A complete set (34 volumes) of the works of Richard Jeffries is priced at $370. But what we must grudge to our cousins is the original MS. of Charles Lamb's story, 'Cupid's Revenge,' which is not to be found in Canon Ainger's edition. There are also fifteen letters of Mr. Ruskin, which we are told have never been published."

MISCELLANY.

FRIENDSHIP.- Friendship is the loftiest of human relationships. Perfectly voluntary, it is often the most binding and the most permanent. Love, at its highest, grows into friendship. If it does not, love has failed of its fullest fruition. Unfortunate marriages are mostly owing to one form or another of this defect. Affinities of blood are weak compared with the purely spiritual affinities of friendship. Here lies the significancy of the oft-quoted French proverb, "Un bon ami vaut mieux qu'un parent." All the loftier spirits of the world have magnified friendship. Indeed with the Greeks and Romans friendships stood definitely on the higher form of love of which they had little knowledge, and some (Winckelmann, the German art critic, among them) are prone to say that love in its more passionate devotions is incompatible with the loftier form of friendship. No doubt, in actual life and in certain circumstances and complications, love and marriage militate against friendships; but, taken broadly, we should be inclined to hold that a true love should only educate for the higher friendship in its training for self-denial, its admiration for dissimilar traits from those possessed, and, above all, in its intensifying and quickening all the powers of sympathy. And this effect will be accomplished by love passing into friendship of the highest order first on the wedded pair themselves. Nesbit, one of our most truthful and accomplished young lyric poets, has this verse, beautifully illustrating this theme:

Miss

"We loved, my love, and now it seems Our love has brought to birth Friendship, the fairest child of dreams, The rarest gift of earth.

"Soon die love's roses, fresh and frail,
And when their bloom is o'er,
Not all our heart-wrung tears avail
To give them life once more.

"But when true love with friendship lives, As now, for thee and me,

Love brings the roses-Friendship gives Them immortality."

་་

A very wise and observant man has said, "One must go out into the world to find his true counterpart, a familiar friend; it is little likely he will find it among his own relations; or if he do, there is a risk that it will be associated with narrowing influences which are not wholly compensated by its intensity of partiality. Dr. South devotes one of his most eloquent sermons to friendship, and in it he says:-" Friendship consists properly in mutual offices, and a generous strife in alternate acts of kindness. But he who does a kindness to an ungrateful person sets his seal to a flint, and sows his seed upon the sand. Upon the former he makes no impression, and from the latter he finds no production." Addison, in his quietly practical and polished manner, has written well in praise of friendship. He avers that friendship is a strong and habitual inclination in two persons to promote the good and happiness of each other. "False friendship," says the learned Robert Burton, "is like the ivy, decays and ruins the wall it embraces; but true friendship gives new life and animation to the object it supports." The books of Herder, the great German poet, abound in tributes to friendship; this is perhaps one of the most discriminating :-"The friend who holds up before me the mirror, conceals not my smallest faults, warns me kindly, reproves me affectionately when I have not performed my duty; he is my friend, however little he may appear so. Again, if a man flatteringly praises and lauds me, never reproves me, overlooks my faults and forgives them before I have repented, he is my enemy, however much he may appear my friend." Montaigne says:- As friendship in its highest phases is a constant effort to look through the eyes of another, it affords the finest education in sympathy. By it man is first prepared to do his duty in society in abnegating the individual desire and impulse. It is a training-school for the loftiest virtues. Hence the saying of Rabbi Hillel has a deeper and wider meaning than appears on the surface Judge not thy friend till thou standest in his place." Like port, friends grow sweeter as they grow older, and have gone long ocean journeys. This is a noble verse to friendship, but not nobler than it deserves in its ministry of vicarious effort and suffering, and devotion: