thing that ever happened before. "Albeit unused to ruffled or unruffled, plaited or plain, which it would the melting mood," we confess we have a weakness to have been something to have worn but once during a wards benefit play-bills;—we "own the soft impeach-long life, on one's wedding-day,-when shall we see all ment." We have caught ourselves actually stopping be- these again? They were "worth a thousand homilies;" fore shop-windows to read them. They are an admi- and are they to pass away into the dreary obscurity of rable recreation for a lighter hour. Who prints the private life! For yet a little time we are to have Jones Edinburgh play-bills? Is it not Mr John Stark? among us; let us make much of him. It would be They are admirably executed; and we would rather be folly to request our readers to go to his benefit, for there the printers of these Fugitive Pieces, than of the Edin- will be no room. burgh Review or the Waverley Novels. There is much genius in the Saxon capitals,-great talent in the Bourgeois, and infinite variety of conception in the Brevier. But let us descend from the species to the individuals.

Four benefits have already taken place this season,— that of Mrs Henry Siddons, of Miss Noel, of Mr Thorne, and of the Manager. The last was on Tuesday; and, as Henry Cockburn says, was a bona fide bumper. Murray was called for when the curtain fell, and, in returning thanks for the patronage of the evening, he said, with truth," I stand before you, after twenty years passed in your service, with the pleasing conviction, that so far from having retrograded in your good opinion, every succeeding year has but added to the kindness with which you honour me." Let it be even so, for the Manager's deserts are great; but let him beware of slumbering on his post. He is going to take a trip to London and Paris during the approaching vacation, and we trust he will pick up something good on his travels, to recreate us with next season.

We

have had scarcely enough of stars this winter, or of spirited and striking novelties. We have had plenty of small things, but we should have had something more brilliant and decided.

Turning from the benefits which are passed, to those which are yet to come, the first which arrests our attention is that of Mr Jones, which takes place this evening. The "Clandestine Marriage,' "The Critic," and "Paul and Virginia," are the contents of the bill, -a sterling and judicious selection. But the pleasure we would otherways have in speaking of Mr Jones and his benefit is dashed with a shade of melancholy, when we know that he is about to retire from the stage into private life, and that it is to be his last; —

"The last! the last! the last!

O! by that little word

How many thoughts are stirr'd,-
Companions of the past!"

Jones has all his life devoted himself to comedy, but
there is little that is comic in the consideration that we
are about to lose a gay and pleasant performer, who
walked hand in hand with mirth, and the very sound of
whose voice was synonymous with enjoyment. A crowd
of recollections come rushing on the heart, and we never
suspected that the man was half so dear to us before.
It is a solemn thing, the retiring from the stage of a po-
pular actor. It is to all of us the visible pointing of
the hand of time at an hour nearer the ninth hour;it
is like the tolling of a bell at midnight, startling the
dull ear with the knowledge that a day is gone which
can never be recalled. As to the more selfish question
of how Jones's place is to be supplied, we shall not enter
upon it at present. But when again shall we see upon
our stage an outward man of such Parisian perfection,
-when shall we again behold coats cut with a cut like
unto his, inexpressibles with so inexpressible an air of
grace, waistcoats which tailors went by hundreds to
the gallery to see,-neckcloths tied à la naud Gordien
in a style that made every puppy in the boxes turn pale
with envy,-hats or chapeaus a bras, which must have
been produced by the maker in a moment of rarely-oc-
curring inspiration,-silk handkerchiefs at which mil.
liners looked and died,-boots that out-Duncaned Dun.
can,-stockings worth their weight in gold,-shirts,

On Monday, Mackay prefers his annual claim, and surely he will have that claim allowed." What! our Bailie, our Dominie, our John Howison, “deserted in his utmost need!" We know "auld Scotland" better. She will support her friends to the last, and cheerfully will she pay five shillings out of her breeches pocket (is it a bull?) on the benefit night of Mackay,-of her own Mackay,-of Sir Walter Scott's Mackay !-On Tuesday, Mrs Eyre, and on Wednesday, Miss Tunstall, appeal to us. May they both prosper! We have three heads; but we bark with only two of them, and they are sleeping at this moment. We say gentle things with the third.-At this present writing, Denham's benefit has not been announced; but we understand he is to make a bold and spirited attempt on that occasion. He is to play Virginius, and Sir Archy Macsarcasm in “Love à la Mode." This would draw a house, even though Denham's merits did not at any rate well deserve the compliment. Old Cerberus./

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE INDIAN WIDOW.
By Mrs Grant of Laggan.

THY looks speak compassion, thy language a friend,
Yet think not, kind stranger, my purpose to bend;
Nouraddin's blest spirit awaits me the while,
And hovers around his pale corpse on the pile.

He whispers he calls me-he passes like wind,—
Oh why should I linger in anguish behind?
Through this desolate earth should I wander alone,
When my light was all quench'd with Nouraddin's last
groan?

Beloved and endear'd, in his shadow I dwelt
In his tender protection no sorrow I felt;
As our souls were united, our pleasures the same,
So our ashes shall mingle and hallow the flame.

Like a vine without prop shall I sink on the ground,
And low in the dust spread my tendrils around?
While the beasts of the forest shall trample with scorn
The plant thus neglected, despised, and forlorn!

You tell me my children forsaken will pine,-
(What a wound to a bosom so tender as mine!)
That their innocent cries shall ascend in the air,
And drown, with their clamour, my last dying prayer.
Oh still, my loved babes, ye cling close to my heart;
But, alas! with your father I never can part;
Yet Bramah, in pity, my truth to reward,
Unseen, will permit me my children to guard.

Adieu, gentle stranger! Oh linger not here,
Nor force me my triumph to stain with a tear;
The flames as they kindle I view with a smile-
How blest when our ashes shall mix on yon pile!

"Be merry and drunk," said he, " as you will,→
I'll bring you a clown that's merrier still."
"A merrier mortal unless you bring,-
Who'll force us to laugh," said the elfin king-
"Until we drop down from this good oak-tree,
We'll bury you, Puck, in the Baltic Sea."

Away went the goblin, nor tarried he long;
But back to the wood with caper and song,
Through alley and glade both up and down,-
Merrily leads he a staring clown!

Then up he went to him and offered him drink,-
Nor ever the offer that clown would blink,—
But he guzzled till every drop was sped,
And tilted the tankard at Puck's own head!

His nose was red as a lobster's claw,—
His shoulder was round as the Misty Law,--
And his gooseberry eyes on every side,
Squinted and leered like a peacock's in pride;
He romp'd with the fairies,-and flouted their lord,
And cuffed little Puck till the goblin roared,-
And the Elf King laugh'd in the greenwood tree,
Till he lost his balance, and down fell he!

Down fell the elf, and down fell his wand,
But soon it was up in the clown's right hand,
And aye as each blow on his nut-helmet clatters,-
"I'll teach you," the clown cries, "to laugh at your bet-
ters!"

And ever as down on the king came his wand,
A way went a fairy out of the band,—
Crying,-" Lay it on well, and thanks to thee!
For each blow of his rod sets a poor soul free!"

STANZAS.

By Charles Doyne Sillery, Author of "Vallery; or the Citadel of the Lake."

[It gives us pleasure to add Mr Sillery's name to the list of poets whose compositions have already graced our pages, and to promise occasional contributions from his pen. When Abdulkari, the poet, came to reside in Babylon, the wise men of the city wished, if possible, to dissuade him from his purpose. They went to meet him, carrying with them a vessel filled with water, to which they directed his attention, in order to show him, that as the vessel was filled with water to the brim, and could contain no more, so was Babylon so filled with poets, that there was no room for him. Abdulkari at once understood this hieroglyphical mode of speech, and, stooping down in silence, he picked up a rose-leaf,

It has been proposed to Mr Hogg to take the Editors hip of a new ANNUAL for Scotland, similar to those which have been so fashionable in England of late years. We know of no man whom the genius of his country would rally round with more willing enthusiasm than the Shepherd; but we are afraid, that even though the publishers were disposed to be as liberal and spirited as necessary, Edinburgh affords much fewer facilities for the execution of the ornamental part of the work than the metropolis, and this would be a considerable drawback. We confess, at the same time, that we have often wondered why Scotland, rich as she is in talent, should have no Annual of her own, and we should be exceedingly happy to see the experiment made.

We learn with pleasure, and at the same time with regret, that almost all the Ettrick Shepherd's works are out of print. He has given to the public fourteen or fifteen volumes of most amusing Scottish tales, and most of these have gone through more editions than one. Would not a strictly corrected and refined cabinet edition of these tales be a safe and good speculation? If published in monthly numbers, neatly embellished, on the plan of the new edition of the Waverley Novels, they would not fail to accompany them to many a shelf. At all events, Old Mortality and the Brownie of Bodsbeck ought always to be found beside each other. The Queen's Wake, too, which has gone through seven editions of 1000 copies each, and two of 1500, has been long out of the market. This surely ought to be remedied.

We are glad to understand that Mr Alaric Watts, who has lately met with a severe domestic affliction in the death of a beautiful

child, has made considerable progress with the LITERAry Sou

VENIR for 1830. This was one of the first of the Annuals, and
has always been one of the best, if not the best. We have seen a
list of the embellishments of the new volume, which are exceed-

which he laid so gently upon the water, that not a drop overflow-
ed. The Babylonians were so delighted with the ingenuity of the
poet, that they instantly led him in triumph to the city. We
shall be glad to see Mr Sillery turn out the Abdulkari of the Mo-ingly interesting, and will fully equal those of last year.
dern Athens.-Ed. Lit. Jour.]

I WATCH'D the moon with a straining eye,
Wither away from the silver sky;
I saw the blue of the atmosphere
Laugh into light,—serene and clear;

I mark'd the purple and pink-robed sun,
Tread out the pale stars one by one ;-
But the op'ning day and the crimson'd sea
Brought no tidings, my love, of thee!

Then, I saw the sun, from his palace of noon,
Feed with pure light the vault of June;
I saw the dew which had gemm'd the corn,
In a mist of gold, on the zephyrs borne;
I saw the wild-flowers steal their dyes
From the blushing cheek of the glowing skies;
And I heard the murmur of bird and bee;-
But they brought no tidings, my love, of thee!

The Prospectus of a Collection of Ancient Criminal Trial, selected from original Records by Robert Pitcairn, W.S., has recently been issued, and induces us to look for a very curious and interesting work, illustrative of the history, jurisprudence, literature, institutions, language, manners, customs, and superstitions, of Scotland. The only portion of the Books of Adjournal and other Records of the High Court of Justiciary as yet given to the public, is to be found in the Collections of Abridged Cases, by Arnot and Maclaurin; but both of these are very imperfect. Mr Pitcairn's Collection is to be upon a more regular plan, and a much more extended scale. He proposes selecting from the earliest Criminal Records now extant, which relate to the reign of James IV., and continuing his researches down to the present day. A striking picture will thus be presented of the most important features of society, progressively delineated through a long course of years. The work is to be issued in Parts, and it is to be hoped that they will appear at regular intervals. The price of each is to be fifteen shillings.

We observe that the Encyclopædia Edinensis is now completed in six volumes quarto. We look upon this as one of the most comprehensive and cheap Encyclopædias which has been offered to the public. The price (£12) scarcely exceeds the value of the engravings, which consist of 182 plates by eminent artists.

EDINBURGH LITERARY JOURNAL;

OR,

· WEEKLY REGISTER OF CRITICISM AND BELLES LETTRES.

No. 28.

AUTOGRAPHS.

SATURDAY, MAY 23, 1829.

THE CONNEXION BETWEEN CHARACTER AND
HANDWRITING-ANECDOTES.

WE have to-day the pleasure of presenting our read.
ers with specimens of the handwriting of forty-three of
the most eminent characters of modern times. Their
autographs are collected into one page, which will form
a handsome frontispiece to the first volume of the LI-
TERARY JOURNAL, and which presents at one view a
more interesting collection of signatures than, we be-
lieve, was ever before given to the public. Though
some of these signatures have been already engraved, we
are enabled to state, that thirty-nine out of the forty-
three have been copied from manuscripts not before ac-
cessible to engravers. Before, however, speaking of
each more particularly, we are desirous of making a few
general observations on the subject of handwriting.
The art of writing, which is now considered so ne-
cessary an acquirement by all ranks and classes, and the
want of which almost unfits one for the ordinary business
of life, was regarded in days of old with a mysterious re-
verence, as a holy, and nearly unattainable accomplish-
ment. It is almost incredible, that Charlemagne, who
reduced more than the half of Europe to his sway, and
who called into life the slumbering spirit of civilisation,
by giving to the conquered nations, laws, institutions,
and literature, cultivated long and fruitlessly the art of
writing, in which, by the testimony of one who was at
once his secretary and son-in-law, he never attained
higher proficiency than to be able to scratch his own
name in huge sprawling characters. But it was im-
possible that this state of things could long exist; and
à knowledge of writing has, in all subsequent ages,
been regarded as lying at the threshhold of every sys-
tem of liberal education. With the exception of the
Germans, all modern European nations, we do not
know whether the modern Greeks be either a nation or
European,-use the same written characters, making al-
lowance here and there for some very unimportant devia-
tions in a few of the minute details. As to the Ger-
mans, though we cannot speak with certainty, we
strongly suspect that their written character is derived
from the same source as that of the rest of Europe; and
this suspicion is confirmed by an examination of some
Scottish manuscripts of the 17th century, (now in our
possession,) one-half of the letters in which, are formed
in the same way as those now used by the Germans.
Other circumstances, corroborative of this belief, might
be mentioned, but as we are not at present bent upon
any display of our antiquarian lore, we content ourselves
with stating our impression.

But whilst the same general form of letter prevails throughout Europe, it is curious to observe how much the character of the people modifies that form, and af

For six of the signatures we are indebted to David Bridges, Esq., who politely favoured us with the use of his very curious book of autographɛ.

PRICE 6d.

"

fects the national style of handwriting. "An Englishman, a Frenchman, a German, or an Italian," says an ingenious author, " may be recognized as readily by his handwriting, as by his features and complexion.' The Frenchman's is full of little frivolous embellishments; the Italian's is graceful, delicate, and supple; the German's is stiff, heavy, and pompous; and the Englishman's is a kind of compound of the three, simpler than the first, less tasteful than the second, and much freer than the third. Engravers, writing-masters, and others who have occasion to study the subject, are well aware, that in so far as direct physical influence fect hand writing; and these are, 1st, the manner in goes, there are two circumstances which principally af which the penman has been taught to move his hand and fingers,-from the wrist or from the elbow, or in which he becomes habituated to hold his pen, either an angular or circular motion; and 2d, the manner in with the fore and middle finger both above the barrel, or with the former above, and the latter below. It is evident, however, that whilst these causes must, to a certain extent, affect the handwriting of individuals, in the formation of written characters, to which we have they can never account for those national peculiarities, just alluded, and which appear to bear a remarkable reference to the moral and in ellectual peculiarities of the people at large. This naturally leads us to enquire into and which have produced not only a distinct line of dethe indirect causes which influence the handwriting, marcation in the style adopted by different nations, but, as D'Israeli has remarked, have given to every individual a distinct sort of writing, as Nature has given to each a peculiar countenance, voice, and manner.

Writing is an attainment to be acquired only by the case, it seems to follow, as a necessary consequence, means of the flexibility of the muscles; and this being that the different emotions which agitate the mind, influencing, as they always do, the muscular action, will communicate themselves, through this medium, to the handwriting, which will thus represent, more or less, the mental idiosyncrasy of the individual. As a sign of character, handwriting has therefore this great arguwill of him who holds the pen must possess a sway over ment in its favour, that, being a voluntary action, the it. In this it differs materially from phrenology, whose bumps are involuntary excrescences on the head; but of Lavater; for, if it is likely that the voice, features, comes into close analogy with the more rational system should not the handwriting, which is just one little step and gestures, should be affected by the passions, why removed from a pure mental operation, be also affected by them? It is true that the science of physiognomy, by one or two ingenious men, has been carried to a fanciful and ridiculous extent; and any rules which may be supposed to govern it, must be so continually met by exceptions, occasioned by a thousand different causes, fixed and certain standard. The same remark, we susthat it must ever remain impossible to reduce it to a pect, applies with equal force to the subject of hand