sandals made of the Esparto rush or matuced, Stipa tenacissima, which the Spanish peasantry also manufacture into mats and thread.

ALPHA, the name of the first letter of the Greek alphabet, answering to our A. As a numeral, it stands for one, or the first of anything. It is particularly used among ancient writers to denote the chief or first man of his class or rank. In this sense the word stands contralistinguished from beta, which denotes the second person. Plato was called the Alpha of the wits. Eratosthenes, keeper of the Alexandrian library, whom some call a Second Plato, is frequently named Beta.

ALPHA is also used to denote the beginning of anything; in which sense it stands opposed to omega, which denotes the end. (Rev. i.8.) These two letters were made the symbol of Christianity, and accordingly were engraven on the tombs of the ancient Christians, to distinguish them from those of idolaters. It was the opinion of Morales that this custom only commenced since the rise of Arianism, and that it was peculiar to the orthodox, who hereby made confession of the eternity of Christ; but there are tombs prior to the age of Constantine wherein the two letters were found, besides that the emperor just mentioned bore them on his labarum before Arius appeared.

ALPHABET.

We have received the word Alphabet immediately from the Latin, alphabetum, for which substantive, however, there is no better authority in that language than the writings of Tertullian and St. Jerome. The more classical Juvenal writes, "Hoc discant omnes ante alpha et beta puellae," which is literally, "girls learn this before their A, B, C." We do not find the word in Greek. Athenæus uses the adjective αναπάσης to signify a man who does not know the first two letters; and it is from these two letters that our word alphabet is evidently derived. Whatever the subsequent arrangement may be, the letters A and B stand at the beginning of a great number of alphabets. The ordinary definition of the word is a table or list of characters, which are the signs of particular sounds. Mathematicians have amused themselves by calculating the number of combinations which may be made of these signs or sounds. Tacquet, according to Harris, writes thus: "Mille miliones scriptorum milie annorum millionibus non scribent omnes 24 litterarum alphabeti permutationes, licet singuli quotidie absolvent 40 paginas, quarum unaqueque contineret diversos ordines literarum 24." We may doubt, perhaps, whether this pomp of numbers will give any very clear notion even to a mathematician; but the passage shows, that for any practical purpose the combinations of elementary sounds, and consequently the number of words, may well be considered infinite. The consideration of the peculiar sets of combinations which constitute, at least in part, what is called the genius of a language, would be a curious inquiry, that has received but little attention; but it does not belong to this head. It has been asserted that the words of no two languages are respectively so unlike as the words in the same language are to themselves, and to one another when read backwards; but this consideration also, of whatever value it be, rather appertains to language itself than to the elements of which it is composed.

When we read the volumes of Lord Monboddo on the origin of language, we know not whether to laugh more at his countless absurdities and boundless credulity, or to wonder at his ingenuity and learning. Many other works have been composed on the same subject, less ridiculous and less admirable, but equally unsuccessful in clearing up the diffi- Alphabet. cultics which they sought to solve. The attempt which is sometimes made to illustrate the invention of writing by that of language, proves invariably to be an impotent effort to explain one unknown thing by another. The invention of alphabetic writing is in truth an inexplicable mystery; we cannot touch it in any way, or approach it on any side. As this opinion is contrary to the commonly received notions, we will briefly state our reasons for adopting it.

It is generally believed that certain steps may be observed, by means of which we are able to trace the gradual progress of the invention. These are the songs and rude drawings of savages, and some simple contrivances for preserving the memory of numbers by beads and similar devices; but especially the Egyptian hieroglyphics, the Chinese characters, and certain alphabets that are said to be syllabic. Learned men have thought fit to assert that there once was a time when no nation was able to write; but they are unable to bring any proof of this assertion, and the evidence of history seems to contradict it. They tell us that men composed songs and ballads to preserve the remembrance of past events, and used paintings and knots to assist the memory. We know that some nations who are unacquainted with letters use these artifices; and we can readily believe that five beads on a string may represent five men, or five days, or five years, but such a memorial has no connection with writing. We know, moreover, that in times when writing is universal, ballads are made and sung, and paintings are produced; and a person who is unwilling to forget an engagement sometimes ties a knot on his pocket-handkerchief. Those who can write often avail themselves of other aids; and those who cannot, have been obliged in all ages to do as well as they can without. It is manifest that we shall not be able to find any firm ground for placing the first step amongst the operations of savages. In common with their civilized brethren, they have the desire to remember certain events; but they have not done anything to advance the peculiar means of which we treat.

The learned president Goguet, in his instructive and popular work, De l'Origine des Lois, des Arts, et des Sciences, discourses at some length and with much ability of the invention of writing. Having mentioned the substitutes which are adopted by savages, he brings forward the Egyptian hieroglyphics thus: "We have been a long time in error as to the first use of hieroglyphics; men believed that the Egyptian priests invented them for the purpose of hiding their knowledge from the vulgar, but it is through want of attention that they have been thus deceived. We may easily satisfy ourselves, that at the beginning they only employed hieroglyphics to hand down and make known their laws, their usages, and their history. Nature and necessity, not choice, have produced the different kinds of hieroglyphic writing. It is an imperfect and defective invention, suitable to the ignorance of the first ages: it was through want of the knowledge of letters that the Egyptians had recourse to them. If this nation had found out alphabetic writing before, they would have been too sensible of its advantages to employ any other. The mistake concerning hieroglyphics has come from the Greeks. They were only acquainted with the Egyptians in much later times. This people had then the use of alphabetic characters. The ancient method of writing in hieroglyphics had been neglected by the mass of the nation; but the Egyptian priests, who, according to the custom of all the learned men of antiquity, were only concerned about the means of hiding their learning, retained the hieroglyphic writing as a fit veil to hide the knowledge of what they did not choose to divulge. It is thus that, after the discovery of alphabetic writing, hieroglyphics became in Egypt a secret and mysterious kind of writing." It is plain that a sensible and learned man here speaks too positively about matters which no one can know. If the Greeks, who were acquainted with the Egyptians, although in later times, are mistaken, how can we, who only know the Egyptians through their report, venture to correct them? "But how did they arrive at this discovery?" The president afterwards candidly asks, "how did they pass from hieroglyphics, and even from syllabic writing, to alphabetic characters?" (It would not have been difficult to have passed from syllabic writing if it had ever existed.) "This is not easy to imagine. Hieroglyphics and syllabic writing certainly have no connection with the letters of the alphabet." (The latter undoubtedly has, for it represents sounds.)

"It was necessary, then, to change entirely the nature of the signs which were used. In vain shall we have recourse to the writers of antiquity to clear up this question. They do not show us in what manner these singular transitions could have been made. We may conjecture that the abridged marks of hieroglyphic writing, of which I have spoken above, conducted to the still more abridged method of alphabetic letters, which by their different combinations express all the articulations of the voice in a simple and easy manner. This conjecture becomes very probable. When we cast our eyes upon the alphabets of some ancient nations, the letters which compose them appear, both by their forms and their names, to have been taken from hieroglyphic signs. If we compare with attention what remains of the Egyptians with the hieroglyphic figures engraved on the obelisks and other monuments, we shall perceive that the Egyptian letters derive their origin from the hieroglyphics." "The Ethiopic alphabet, and the majuscule letters of the Armenians, also supply proofs of what I advance: we find there very distinct traces of the ancient hieroglyphic character." We know not what he means by "the ancient Egyptian characters," unless it be the Coptic alphabet, which is posterior to and derived from the Greek, as Plate XXI. demonstrates. It shows also the Ethiopic letters, and the ordinary Armenian, which are not ancient: still less are the majuscules or capitals: the latter are undoubtedly formed in the shape of animals, &c.; but they are like the illuminated letters that were used as initials in the middle ages. These certainly were not taken from hieroglyphics, but were designed for ornament; and so is it likewise with the majuscules of the Armenians, which were a very late invention; and it is matter of history, and not of conjecture, that they were taught them by the Greeks. It is very doubtful whether the paintings of the Mexicans, of which some writers have treated largely, had any connection with writing, or were intended for anything but pictures; in truth nothing is known about them, and we may at once dismiss them as having no relation to the subject.

The hieroglyphics appear to be related to the alphabet; and as they are very extraordinary in themselves, and have received much attention from the learned, we must speak somewhat fully of them; although they will not enable us to trace any transition or progress towards alphabetic writing, which is perfect and complete wherever it exists, the instances usually adduced of imperfect and incipient writing being in our opinion entirely unfounded; and it is an unwarranted assumption, that the Egyptian hieroglyphics preceded the use of the letters of the alphabet, of which there is no proof; whatever testi- In every generation there have been a few gifted interpreters, who have professed that they were able to read the hieroglyphics; nor have these been wanting in our own times. The expedition of the French to Egypt, and especially the discovery of the famous Rosetta stone, which, the late Dr Young declares, was an ample compensation for all that the two armies suffered, gave a powerful impulse to these studies. It had been observed on the Egyptian monuments, that clusters of figures were often included in a ring, scroll, or cartouche; and it was deemed expedient that these should represent proper names. To meet the exigency of the case the Phonetic system was devised, which is briefly this: if we suppose that the scroll contains a dog, an ass, and a yew-tree, the initials of the three words are taken, and they form the word Day; and this by the hypothesis is a proper name; and we may infer, if we please, that Potiphar had read Sandford and Merton, and was greatly delighted with that excellent work. The language, however, in which the objects that supply the initials are to be named, is not English, but Coptic; but the results, we shall see, are precisely the same. Let us assume that the figure of a bird denotes A; since the engraving is not executed with the exquisite accuracy of a Bewick, it may be an albatross, a buzzard, a crow, a duck, an eagle—any bird, in short, in the Coptic vocabulary, and any letter in the alphabet; and so with the tree, which stands for B: it may be an apple, a beech, a cedar, or any arborescent vegetable whatever: and, as if this were not loose enough, each letter has several visible objects, each of which may be made to run the gauntlet of the alphabet. The number of figures contained in the scroll, we should have imagined, would control the length of the word, and indicate the number of the letters; but they are relieved from that slight responsibility thus: since every allowance ought to be made for a scribe who writes upon granite, ΠΤΟΑΜ will stand for Ἐπίσκοπος; or, if there be a redundancy of objects, the superfluous letters are disposed of as symbolical, and are classed with the goose and globe, or the goose and gridiron, and some other favourite emblems. Although there be figures enough to complete the name Ἐπίσκοπος, that monarch, if it be not his turn, may be desired to stand aside: any three may be chosen to spell Day, and the other seven may be explained symbolically to signify the author of Sandford and Merton, or any thing any body pleases. Such is the Phonetic system, and its results are such also as might have been expected. Dr Young, an ingenious and learned person, founding himself on certain notions entertained by Warburton, proceeded with singular zeal and activity to compass and imagine discoveries which we are not able to relate. We will only observe briefly, that any conjecture of that prelate may safely be presumed to be wrong; for although his energy, learning, and acuteness, were undoubtedly great, experience has shown, that from haste or some other cause his views are commonly erroneous. Dr Young, being in that vein, of course went on from discovery to discovery, being guided by that warm fancy which usually attends real talent; and, as is ever the case on such occasions, every person who took the pains to investigate the matter found precisely what he was looking for and most desired: no one was ever disappointed. MM. Champollion-Figeac, Sylvester de Sacy, D'Akerblad, and many other foreigners, learned to read,—to run and read. The hieroglyphics were as legible when they rode by the obelisks as the names over our shops. Our own countrymen ran a bright career of glory. Mr W. J. Bankes, Mr Salt, and others saw immediately strong confirmations. Even Mr George Grey, a very estimable young gentleman, who took a little trip to Egypt in the season, according to the fashion, crept into the great pyramid and out again, saw everything, bought a charming pair of mummies, a cock and a hen, cut them open, and found, without knowing it, the "ring of Polycrates," as Dr Young says, and perhaps also that of Hans Carvel. He found a Greek translation, it is said, of a manuscript, which had recently been brought from Egypt to Paris. The original was in the Enchorial character, and the translation showed that it was a sale of land. It was, moreover, duly registered and probably stamped; but that we are not told. That a landowner should go to bed with his title-deeds in his stomach, that the monuments of the deceased should be buried with him, ought to astonish us, even in an age of discovery. It shows, however, the perfection of the enchorial registration in Egypt, that the settlement was buried with the first tenant for life who died; and it will be a wholesome example to our law-commissioners, who are about to introduce registration in England, and an admonition to make the public title so complete, that all private securities may safely be dispensed with. The papyrus which Mr George Grey brought from Egypt refers, however, not to the hieroglyphics, but to the characters called enchorial, which are the second in order of the three inscriptions on the Rosetta stone. They seem to be alphabetic, although no one has been able hitherto to make out the alphabet. It is hard indeed to imagine, that there ever was any writing which was not alphabetic. Efforts have been made to interpret these also, but after turning over a few pages of the interpretation, the reader is disposed to say to the interpreter, "if you are permitted to read an inscription either backwards or forwards, to consider the letters as imperfectly formed, to select them from any alphabet that will suit your purpose, to turn them round or invert them, to supply, and amend, and reject at pleasure, to take any form of any word in any language you choose, and to make great allowances for barbarism, ignorance, foreign spelling, and so forth,—if you may do all these things, and cannot find your own name, your mother's, and mine, in any writing whatever, you certainly are not fit to decipher enchorial characters." The hieroglyphics which the accomplished Dr Young and his admiring disciples, whether foreign or domestic, were unable to read or to reconcile with their hypotheses, they boldly declared, after the usage of interpreters, to be spurious, and said that they had been negligently and unskilfully sculptured at Rome, in imitation of the Egyptian manner. They speak with as much confidence about a good and a bad style in hieroglyphic inscriptions, as if they were critics writing in the Egyptian Review, if we can fancy that such a periodical existed under the Pharaohs or Ptolemies, and deciding, in a summary manner and without appeal, on the literary merits of the new obelisks and pyramids as they appeared. So intolerant were they of the claims of what Dr Young in his first zeal termed "an excoriating antiquity," that they condemned as forgeries some of the finest and most admired of the Egyptian monuments. But such aggressions upon the reverential feelings of mankind being likely to provoke retaliation, and to endanger the theory, they devised an ingenious expedient, and found, under the more modern scrolls, containing the names of Ptolemies or Roman emperors, the vestiges of more ancient scrolls comprehending those of older and native princes which had been erased to make way for the usurpers. Some of these, it is said, have been deciphered. And since it has been the fashion to discover the Alphabet names of the ancient kings of Egypt, many buildings have been restored to their original rank, and almost every scroll decided to stand in the place of one that had been obliterated. We would recommend some of the most sharp-sighted of these antiquaries to look well if there be not a third and older name under the second, that even "exorbitant antiquity" may once more be taken into favour. Mr Salt, in his Essay on the Phonetic System of Hieroglyphics, shows, that even in the symbolical department, which of course must be the most lax, it is necessary to humour the theory a good deal. This zealous convert speaks thus of Horapollio: "Having so often quoted this author, I may here state, that though I am convinced, for numerous reasons, that the first book and part of the second are written by a person perfectly acquainted with Egyptian hieroglyphics, yet so am I perfectly persuaded that the remainder is a vile interpolation, excepting perhaps the three or four last hieroglyphics, which seem to have been reserved from the original work, and placed at the end, more effectually to deceive the reader." This is very like choosing so much of a writer as will serve a favourite purpose, and rejecting the rest. It is unnecessary, however, to pursue this part of the subject farther. If we admit that the discovery of the phonetic system was very admirable; that it is demonstrated clearly, it may be mathematically; that the examples have been adduced with perfect candour and fairness; that it will afford much valuable illustration to the history of Egypt; and that it is madness, or even a crime, to doubt its truth and importance; if we concede all this, and more, it will not assist us in discovering the origin of the alphabet. The phonetic system is essentially alphabetic; the bird, and the tree, and the other figures within the scroll, are not hieroglyphics, but letters: they represent sounds. It is not a transition from hieroglyphics to letters: it is not a step in advance; but, if it be a step, it is assuredly a step backwards; for it is merely the substitution of clumsy and ambiguous letters for others that were simple and certain. The dog, the ass, and the yew-tree do not represent the author of Sandiford and Merton symbolically or hieroglyphically. That ingenious person had not any of the properties peculiar to those objects. The three figures are an awkward manner of writing the three letters that compose his name, and any other object might be agreed upon to denote the same letters without reference to the initials, which could only have been chosen to assist the memory. A man, a woman, and a child would of course spell Day, if it were understood that a man was in the place of d, and the other figures of the other letters. Thus every one might compose at pleasure innumerable phonetic systems.

There is no foundation for the assertion of the president Goguet, and of other learned men, that the Egyptian hieroglyphics preceded the invention of alphabetic writing; whatever testimony exists is to the contrary. It is vain to argue that it is improbable any persons would use such cumbrous and inconvenient writing after they had experienced the advantages of a simple and convenient method; for there is abundant evidence, as the learned president admits, that it was practised long after they had become acquainted with the excellent alphabet of the Greeks. It is not easy to understand and to reconcile the passages in which the various sorts of writing that prevailed in Egypt are mentioned; the enchorial, the hieratic, the sacred, the demotic, the Ethiopic, &c. Our limits will not permit us to comment upon, or even to extract, the statements of Herodotus, Clemens Alexandrinus, Porphyry, Heliodorus, and others. The first author tells us that, unlike the Greeks, they wrote from the right to the left; and Clement and Porphyry affirm that the hieroglyphics were the invention of the priests, for the purpose of mystery and religious secrecy. Our physicians write their prescriptions in an uncouth character, and with barbarous abbreviations, not because they are unacquainted with the ordinary writing, but through quackery and for concealment; and for the same reasons the record in a court of law is made up in the form of a carpet, or the sail of a ship; and many similar devices, not unworthy of Tartars or Laplanders, are practised there, and in the composition of deeds, not through ignorance, but of design. If the hieroglyphics be in truth writing, and history seems to declare that they are, it is most probable that they are alphabetic; not only because we are told that they were invented when letters were in use, but because it is impossible to conceive any writing which is not such. Whether we shall ever obtain the alphabet, is very doubtful. It is easy to imagine many systems, but it is perhaps impossible to fix upon any. An animal or other object might represent a letter; and the representations might be varied according to fixed rules: or the parts of an animal might be the letters, and the animal itself would then be a word. There is no end of conjectures. It is not impossible, although the supposition has never been hazarded, that the priests wrote in initials only, like the Roman lawyers, who, partly for the sake of brevity, and partly and principally for concealment, entered their forms in that manner. A Roman notary would begin a will thus: T. I. T. L. W. A. T. &c. "This is the last will and testament," &c. Apuleius supplies a curious passage, which seems to imply that the sacred books were partly secured against profane readers by abbreviations. "Et injecta dextera senex comissimus ducit me protinus ad ipsas fores sedis amplissimae: rituque solenni apertiones celebrato ministerio, ac matutino peracto sacrificio, de opertis adtyi profert quosdam libros, literis ignorantilibus praenotatos: partim figuris cujusmodi animalium, concepti sermonis compendiosa verba suggerentes: partim nodosis et in modum rotae tortuosis, capreolatique condensis apicibus, a curiosa profanorum lectione munita." (Metamorph. lib. 11.) We know not whence the Roman lawyers derived this kind of cipher or abbreviation, of which they made much use. It was a favourite practice likewise of the Rabbins to compose memorial words of initials. We are told that the hieroglyphics were the invention of the priests, and were connected with religion: it is probable therefore that they contain rituals, perhaps in an abbreviated form. The frequent repetitions of the same characters, and the perpetual recurrence of the same sets of characters, favour this supposition. The frequent repetitions of the services of the church of Rome furnished cause of complaint at the Reformation. In the liturgies of the Greek church they are far more remarkable. If we open any book of Greek offices, we shall find such directions as, "here make 60 kyries, then 30 doxas, then 30 χαρισματικά, and then 60 more kyries." The tedious ceremonies are infinitely protracted by such wholesale orders. The ancient Egyptians surpassed all people, even the Hindoos, in their addiction to religious exercises. We may read copious details of the prodigious exertions of the early Egyptian monks, who brought, with the common zeal of converts, the peculiar sentiments and habits of their nation, amongst whom all was prayer and rite, every thing was sacred, the whole land swarmed with gods. If we could translate a hieroglyphic inscription, we should probably find that it comprehended the rites to be observed in consecrating a punt. It would direct the faithful It is no light matter to learn Greek now; what would it be under the circumstances we have supposed! When mankind were at last quite weary of admiring the Greek Alphabet, symbols, and of weeping over myriads of schoolboys who had been fairly flogged to death, some great man would at last arise, who, considering that all written language must of necessity be alphabetic, although the alphabet may have been lost in some cases amidst national convulsions, would proceed patiently to analyze the characters, not as a logician to seek for genera and species, nor as an artist to look for exquisite touches of art, but simply as a grammarian, to make out the letters. He would carefully dissect a character into parts, and assign arbitrarily to each part its sound, taking due care to make those parts or letters vowels which occur in words in such a manner as to render it necessary or convenient so to consider them for the purpose of articulation. He might, for example, call αλλας uttak, and πολυς gatok; the harmony of the language would be deteriorated or improved by the change, according to the taste of the age. But when the supposed symbols were once more restored to an alphabetic form, although entirely different sounds might have been substituted for the ancient, it would not be more difficult to acquire the language, than if the original alphabet had never been lost.

"The Chinese characters, taken in general, are, as every body knows, images and symbols, designed to represent directly material objects, by an imitation more or less exact, and other objects by metaphors more or less ingenious. They are consequently entirely unconnected with pronunciation, and do not stand for any sounds. As it is necessary, however, that books should be read aloud, they attach by convention to each character a simple or complex syllable, which brings to the mind, in the spoken language, the same idea as the character in writing; but nothing in the latter denotes the sound or the syllable, and it is very possible to understand the one without knowing the other, and vice versa." We quote these words from the excellent work of M. Abel Remusat, entitled Recherches sur les Langues Tartares. M. Fréret, who tells the strange tale in his sensible reflections on the Chinese writing, in the sixth volume of the Memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions, makes this lively remark—

"On dirait que cette écriture aurait été inventée pour des sujets, qui ignorent l'usage de la parole;" and we may add, that when we believe that the whole population of China are dumb, then will it seem worthy of belief, which is utterly incredible, that any kind of writing was ever devised that was not alphabetic. A person who gives from a Greek book, without naming the words in the original tongue, a literal translation in English, is like the man who reads aloud Chinese writing in the spoken language of China. He renders one language by another, and of two languages it is possible to know the one and not the other. Some understand English who are ignorant of Greek, and vice versa. "It was necessary sometimes," M. Abel Remusat continues, "for the Chinese to represent in writing the proper names of persons and of places, and of new objects and ideas. When their knowledge extended, they found that it was impossible to invent figures sufficiently exact, or to compose symbols sufficiently characteristic, to denote, in such a manner that they should be recognised, different natural objects,—quadrupeds, birds, fishes, trees, &c. Many expedients occurred, and were successively employed. They might take a symbol which was already known, and make it the sign of an individual. All proper names in China are characters of this sort. Most commonly there is nothing in these characters to mark this kind of alteration. Sometimes, however, they add to the symbol which has been thus stripped of its original meaning, the sign of the mouth, to show the change it has..." The sign of the mouth is precisely equivalent to the use of the capital letter, which with us marks a proper name, and shows that Mead signifies, not a liquor, but a physician, and Rose a man, and not a flower. Why one man should ever have been called Mead and another Rose, is as much a mystery as any thing in Chinese literature, although the question has not yet provoked an elaborate disquisition concerning the first Mead or the origin of Roses. "The second method is of so much consequence in Chinese writing, that from the most ancient times it has been accounted one of the six rules for forming characters. It consists in taking, as in the former case, a simple or complex symbol, and adding another, which denotes that it signifies a tree, a bird, &c. Almost all the names of natural objects are thus represented by two characters, one of which represents the genus, and the other the species." There is nothing peculiar in this method—it is common to all languages. We make compound words by the union of two simple, as tea-pot, coffee-pot; the latter word denoting the genus pot, and the former, or rather the two together, the species. These and similar contrivances, therefore, do not prove that there was a transition or gradual passage from symbolic to alphabetic writing. It is urged that tradesmen and ignorant persons in China frequently use those signs indifferently which have the same names but a different significance, for all the several purposes of the various characters; but this is not a step. In like manner, a boy has been known, in endeavouring to translate "thou shalt till" into Latin, to have found in his dictionary "till, donee," and to have written down "donecabis." If a foreigner arrives in China, and it is necessary to give him a name in writing, they usually assign to him some new combination of characters, which has no reference to the sound of his name. It is asserted, however, that they sometimes seek to express by their characters the sound of his name. If it be Har-ri-sun, for instance, they take the three characters the names of which most resemble in sound the three syllables of the proper name. This would certainly be syllabic writing; but there is no satisfactory proof that it was ever devised by the Chinese themselves. It would occur very naturally to a foreigner who was familiar with alphabetic writing, and knew something of the language of the country.

The spoken language of China consists entirely of monosyllables; consequently the necessity for such an expedient could never arise, except in conjunction with foreigners who are used to the alphabet. They could have no idea of a syllable, as distinct from and forming part of a word; and the name Harrison would not be to their ears one word of three syllables, but three separate words, each a monosyllable. We do not wonder if the Chinese have picked up from strangers a little instruction in reading; we are rather astonished that, in consequence of their addiction to old customs, they have not learned more. It has been said that the Japanese have adopted an alphabet of syllables of this kind, consisting of as many of the Chinese characters as are necessary to furnish it. We must withhold our assent to the existence of syllabic alphabets, until we have actually examined one that is not manifestly composed of letters. We read also that some nations of Tartars use an alphabet constructed of Chinese characters, either entire or mutilated. If we were to select 26 of these characters, we might of course write our own language in the same cipher; and the only consequence would be, that we should adopt very inconvenient letters. Musical sounds, numbers, the signs of the Zodiac, and a few other matters of peculiar simplicity, are marked by arbitrary symbols, which have no reference to sound, and are understood by many nations. These examples, however, do not prove that it is possible to contrive a universal character, or to invent such a language, as the written Chinese is alleged to be. It would no doubt be a work of considerable difficulty, but not insuperable, to analyze the Chinese characters, and to reduce them to an alphabetic form. It would probably be necessary to assign several figures to the same letter—but this is common in other languages—and other expedients might be needed; but the result would facilitate immensely the acquisition of a language rich in a prodigious number of finely printed books. Hyde and others maintained that the language of the Manchou Tartars, in which there exist translations of most of the Chinese books, was, like the written language of China, symbolic; yet by the labours of MM. Amyot and Langlès it has been dissected into very comfortable and legible alphabetic letters. The spoken language of China is a vulgar, barbarous, and most imperfect jargon, that has never been reduced into writing, and has essentially no more connection with the written language than the Welsh or the Basque. If we must concede, contrary to reason and probability, that the Chinese characters contain a symbolic writing which is not alphabetic, they do not afford any assistance towards tracing the invention of the alphabet; for there is no proof that the Chinese, by their own means, and without foreign aid, have advanced a single step.

The uses of the alphabet are sweet and marvellous, and its origin, like the signification of the Egyptian hieroglyphics, undiscovered; but its structure is usually imperfect. It is commonly at once deficient and redundant, and the arrangement immethodical. In our own language, for example, although we have the sounds of the long and short vowels, we have only one character for each vowel; and it is left doubtful which sound is intended, or it is pointed out by the addition of other letters. In ben the e is short; in bean, been, bene, it is long, and the syllable might be spelled thus, béen. The Greeks have a distinct character for the long and the short e, and two for o likewise; but their alphabet is as deficient as our own with respect to the other three vowels. If the Romans had used ten signs for vowels instead of five, all that difficult department of grammar which teaches the quantity of syllables would have been superseded by a simple and mechanical contrivance. Our alphabet is said to be redundant, because the one sound of e is expressed by k, and the other by s. It is true that ek is a peculiar sound, differing from that of ek, as cherry differs from sherry; it is true, however, that it might be represented by kh, if our orthographers had thought fit to ordain it. F is said to be redundant, because we might spell fig, phig; for we write philosopher, whilst the Italians use filosofo; and so with some other letters. As the Greek is pronounced in England, the χ is superfluous for the purposes of speech, and its place might always be supplied by x. It distinguishes nevertheless many words to the eye, and is useful in etymology, on account of which, letters that would be redundant if they were to be tried by the verdict of the ear alone, have been retained in many alphabets. If the number of our own letters be too small, the deficiency is not very great. Those who affirm that there is the largest amount of simple sounds in our language, would not extend it beyond 32 or 33 characters, and their opponents would cut it down to about half the number: 28, therefore, is a tolerably fair mean between these extremes.

The lovers of method complain grievously that the arrangement of the letters is most unphilosophical. There Alphabet. is no reason, they truly affirm, why b should succeed to a, or c to b in the Latin and English, or g in the Greek and Hebrew alphabets. The vowels, they maintain, ought to walk first, and to be marshalled precisely according to the aperture that each demands from the mouth to give it due utterance; and the consonants ought to be arranged with reference to the organ to which they are chiefly indebted,—the lips, the teeth, the tongue, the throat. If we were about to compose an alphabet for the first time, such precision might be permitted; but this change, like most others, would be attended with many inconveniences.

The next generation, for example, could not use our dictionaries and encyclopedias; and as the letters are sorted on the next page of the primer, although not in the alphabet itself, the advantage would be very trifling.

An extreme and rigid regularity does not suit mankind; men love anomalies, exceptions, and varieties. In some languages, as in the Italian, and very probably, if we can judge of the pronunciation of the ancient Romans, in the Latin, each letter performs its office with great constancy and uniformity, and indicates the sound according to a few simple and well-observed rules; in others, as in some of the Celtic tongues, the only use of letters seems to be to mislead, and to show what is not the true pronunciation. The English orthography torments foreigners, and presents difficulties that appear at first to be insuperable: by perseverance, however, they find the clue to the labyrinth, and acknowledge that the maze is not always without a plan. The mode of spelling that was observed in the middle ages, especially in English and French, was to admit into words every letter that could possibly claim a shadow of right to be there. It resembles the style of law proceedings, the grand canon of composition and construction therein being, so that all is there that ought to be, it matters little how much is there that ought not: the excess may help, but cannot hurt, and may be rejected as surplusage. The French, after their peculiar manner, by means of the Roman letters, have cooked up strange kickshaws of words; their pronunciation, however, whimsical as it is, being practically, and especially amongst those who speak soberly and moderately, less absurd than the extraordinary persons who compose grammars of that language would have us believe.

The forms of letters in different systems are of course very various. It is curious to contrast the complicated characters of the Gothic, or of German text, or of some languages that are less generally known, with more simple alphabets, especially with those used in modern systems of short-hand. These extremely simple letters, however, are not so favourable to rapidity in reading as in writing; plainness and distinctness, a certain form that fills the eye, giving to each its proper individuality, are essential to give facility to the reader's office. If there were no other books but manuscripts, it would certainly be of great importance that such characters only should be used as the transcriber could execute with the utmost celerity: but as copies are now multiplied by printing, it matters little whether the letters are simple or complex; for although it may be more difficult to make the punches, and more troublesome to cast the types, these considerations cannot greatly influence the price of books.

The manner of arranging letters and words is also various. The Chinese, and a few other people, dispose the words in perpendicular lines, one word below another; but most nations conform to the general practice of placing them in horizontal rows: and the world is nearly equally divided on the question, whether it be expedient to begin to write at the right or the left side of the page.

The people of the East usually adopt the former, and Alphabet. those of the West the latter method. There are some exceptions, however: the Sanscrit is written, like the English, from the left to the right; and the Etruscans seem to have committed a similar error in longitude, for they proceeded, like the Arabs, from the right towards the left. The one arrangement is quite as convenient as the other. Persons who are prejudiced in favour of every thing to which they have been accustomed, have imagined reasons in support of the superiority of our method: daily practice convinces us that it is very excellent; but we must acknowledge, notwithstanding, that the best writers are to be found amongst the people who write from the right hand to the left. The Chinese, it is said, in their peculiar way, attain to great skill and excellence.

There is one kind of arrangement that was anciently in use among the Greeks, which is very remarkable: the letters proceed from the left to the right, and back again from the right to the left, or vice versa, alternately, like the course of an ox in ploughing, whence it has received the name Scramblestone. We can imagine that a person writing running-hand very rapidly might be tempted to adopt this alternate path for the sake of dispatch—although such perhaps would not be the result—in order to save the time that is wasted in carrying the hand back from the end of one line to the beginning of the next; but this could not be the motive that suggested its use in the inscriptions that are now in existence. It was probably esteemed sacred from its connection with ploughing, which was always a holy thing. A treaty written thus was more likely therefore to be observed. If a bill of exchange had a better chance of being accepted or paid were it sped like the plough, the sacred arrangement would no doubt be adopted by the drawers of these instruments.

The inconveniences of a diversity of characters have induced some speculative persons to endeavour to devise a universal character, and even to remedy the curse of Babel by a universal language. The great Leibnitz employed himself much, it is said, on these speculations, but without success. John Wilkins, bishop of Chester, a less able man, composed An Essay towards a Real Character and an Universal Language, which was printed by the Royal Society in 1668. Whoever will open this thick folio, will not be surprised that the husband of Oliver Cromwell's sister had but few disciples, or, whatever learning and ingenuity the book may display, that it has long been forgotten. It has rarely happened that men of distinguished ability have sought to introduce a severe uniformity into any science. Speculators who propose to furnish characters that will faithfully represent all the sounds of all the letters of all languages, only show that they have not accurate ears: sounds are infinite, and cannot be thus portrayed. Men have vainly discoursed also concerning a natural language: there is no language natural to man. It is not natural to call a horse a horse, or by any other name; but it is perfectly natural, for it is the universal practice, to call that animal by some name or other which is understood by those with whom we communicate. If there were a universal character to represent words, and it were generally received, so that the character for a horse should be read by an Englishman horse, by a Frenchman cheval, by a Spaniard caballo, and by a German pferd, as has been recommended, it would avail little. The syntax and construction of languages are so various, that although the characters might be understood, and every word intelligible by itself, the sense of a whole passage that had been written by a German would be utterly unintelligible to a Frenchman. Alphabet. The Chinese is said to be a language of which the structure is remarkably easy and simple. As a proof that it is not enough to know the meaning of the words, but that it is necessary to be familiar with the collocation, in order to comprehend the sense of the author, let us take an example at hazard from the grammar of M. Abel Remusat. The following is a literal translation: "Sicut amat sicut scit agit eam amat eam eam eam qui eam qui non quidem." Could Bishop Wilkins himself detect the meaning which lurks in these few and very plain words? They are rendered thus, having been re-arranged according to the rules of a system which is far more artificial, but with which, through habit, we are conversant: "Celui qui la connait (la vertu) ne veut pas celui qui t'aime; celui qui t'aime ne veut pas celui qui la pratique." If we are unable to interpret a short and easy sentence in an inartificial language, with the forms of which we are unacquainted, is it not certain, that if one of the long and rhetorical periods of Demosthenes, to say nothing of more obscure writers, were transcribed in the universal character, it would be as incomprehensible as a Babylonian brick covered with arrow-headed characters, to a person familiar with the universal writing, but who had not mastered the majestic but abstruse idiom of the Greek tongue? Nor is there a natural collocation of words. All collocation is artificial; and that to which the reader is most accustomed seems to him to be the most natural. He who speaks of the natural order of a sentence, and recommends that it should be observed in his projects for grammatical uniformity, commits the same error as the sailor who condemned the Spaniards with many oaths, as a most unnatural race, for calling a hat sombre, and not, like men, by its natural name, a hat.

Having spoken as largely as our limits will permit of the alphabet in general, we will next call the attention of our readers to a few particular alphabets, not perhaps with so much minuteness as some might desire, nor certainly to all that are worthy of attention. The Greek alphabet is by far the most important to literature, not only because the most precious remains of antiquity have been preserved by its means, but because it is the parent of the Latin, which has been adopted by, and prevails amongst, the most civilized nations of the world. Plate XIX., which is the first of the three plates connected with this subject, is entirely devoted to elucidate its origin and history. The plate has been taken, except that part on the right hand which is headed "Greek," from Astle's work on the Origin and Progress of Writing, and was compiled from authorities which we regret that it would greatly exceed our limits to enumerate. It would be easy to extract the passages which would explain it; but as the book is generally accessible, we will content ourselves by referring to it; and as that admirable treasure of alphabetic lore, the Nouveau Traité de Diplomatique (6 tom.4to, Paris,1750-63), whence Astle has chiefly derived his authorities and the forms of the letters, may easily be consulted, we will not avail ourselves of the assistance it would afford. Joseph Scaliger was the first who endeavoured to show systematically, and with elaborate learning, the derivation of the Greek letters from the Phoenician. He has had many followers and imitators. A cursory inspection of the numerous specimens of Phoenician letters which this plate affords will prove, that if their forms are sometimes like those of the ancient Greek characters, they are often very dissimilar, at least if we may suppose that we have obtained from coins and inscriptions the true characters of the Phoenicians; and if the powers of the letters were the same as in the Hebrew, as the order appears to have been, there was a great dissimilarity in sound also. That Alphabet portion of the plate which is headed "Greek" is taken from a plate inscribed Varia Alphabeta Graeci per etatis ordinem forma, published in the Pseudepigrapha Graecae of Hodgkin, and in vol. ix. of the Classical Journal. The first column on the left consists of the ordinary letters, of which the number is increased to 27 by the insertion of the Fov enygeon, which marks the number 6, after E, of exm, 900, and of sswx, 90, after II. The second column is headed "Cadmi a. c. 1500," and is taken from Morton. The next column, standing immediately below "Greek," gives the various forms of the Siegean inscription, as published by Chishull, and is headed "Siegem, circa 600 a. c." The third column is inscribed "Simonidis, a. c. 500," and is also from Morton. The remainder of the letters are of the date 450, a. c., and are given on the authority of Wachter, from W. Massey's Essay on the Origin and Progress of Letters. Mr Hodgkin has published in the same work a large and valuable collection of abbreviations and connections. The fac-similes of the Herculanean papyri present the Greek characters that were in ordinary use at the time when they were written. M. d'Aiguecourt, in his valuable Histoire de l'Art par les Monuments, has given many curious examples of Greek manuscripts of the middle ages, extracted from the unpublished treasures of the Vatican library; and Mr Rose has collected, with much care and accuracy, the various forms of letters from inscriptions at Athens and in Attica. It would be easy to multiply references to other volumes. Although the philologist may not accept all Mr Payne Knight's conclusions, as they are presented in his well-known Analysis of the Greek Alphabet, he cannot refuse him credit for much learning and ingenuity, for novelty sometimes amounting to paradox, and an energy often approaching to anger. The two learned dissertations of M. l'abbé Renaudot, in the second volume of the Memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions, are well known. It is impossible not to remark, that, whenever a new inscription is discovered, archaeologists instantly fly to it, and for a time, commonly until something else is turned up, endeavour to solve every phenomenon by means of it. This fickleness is undoubtedly suspicious, and resembles the conduct of men who are ill at ease in their theories. The letters which we find on coins and marbles of the earliest periods are only of certain peculiar forms; but it would be a rash deduction to infer, therefore, that they did not use letters of a different shape for other purposes. These have remained, because the materials on which they were impressed or engraved were durable; and the cursive writing, which probably existed and was inscribed on perishable substances, and for temporary purposes, has been lost. If all lettered monuments of the 19th century had disappeared except our money, the inference would be most erroneous, that the inhabitants of Great Britain knew no other characters save the Roman capitals, which are alone to be found on the sovereign; and will seem ridiculous to all who are aware that the bank-note that circulates with it presents, in evidence of its mercantile origin, specimens of every kind of hand which an ambitious schoolmaster, anxious to display his penmanship, could devise.

On the Greek alphabet, as on many others, the question arises, What is properly to be considered a letter? If we accept the ordinary definition, that it is a mark for a certain known sound, it is plain that h is entitled to the honourable appellation. The Romans include it in the alphabet, and, except perhaps in prosody, grant to it all its rights. Alphabet. By most of the nations of the west it is duly recognised, and by the orientals it is usually had in great honour. The Greeks, however, have attenuated it into a spirit, and translated it, as such, out of the alphabet, and elevated it above the heads of its fellows. The practice of sending letters aloft, that were supposed to have a turn for climbing, exists indeed in many other languages. The two dots or lines, for instance, that sometimes hang over the vowels in the German, are the remains of ε: thus pokel was formerly written pokel; and some grammarians have recommended that the old orthography should be resumed. It is unnecessary to multiply examples from other tongues. This letter was anciently marked by the sign H, as in the Latin and our own language. When that sign was applied to denote the η, it was cut in two, and one half was suspended in the air to mark the spiritus asper, the rough breathing, or the h, which, according to the definition, is a letter; the other half was hung up in the same manner for a very peculiar purpose, not to designate any letter, not as the mark of any known sound, but, under the name of the spiritus lenis, it signified the absence of a letter—it became a negative sign in grammatical algebra. Since the spiritus lenis merely imports the absence of the spiritus asper, or h, if a sign be used to show the absence of one letter, there ought equally to be a sign to denote that of every other letter in the alphabet; and on this principle there ought to be as many negative as positive signs. If it be supposed that the reader who sees the word all cannot understand that the word does not begin with h, and is not hall, unless a spirit tell him so, and a mark be prefixed to signify that the word all does not begin with h, he must need the like assistance to enable him to comprehend that every other letter also is wanting. He ought to be told that the word all does not begin with b, c, d, &c., and that it is not ball, nor call, nor pall, nor tall. Since the initial is not more intelligible than the remainder of the word, every other letter of every word ought on the same principle to be preceded by the negative signs of all the letters, to show that it is nothing more than itself. To such absurdities must we be reduced, if we abandon the plain rule, that the absence of a letter alone is sufficient to show that it is wanting. We should wonder the more that a people so intelligent as the Greeks should have fallen into such an error, if, as far as we know, Lanzi had not been the first to notice it. His reductio ad absurdum of the spiritus lenis has not hitherto received the attention which its acuteness merits. In Arabic, the mark yasma, unless we look upon it as representing the hyphen, is also a negative sign, importing, however, a more extensive negation. It has been conjectured that the Greek accentual marks were contrived to assist persons in reading aloud, before the practice of leaving a space at the end of each word was adopted. They certainly would be extremely useful in this respect, and they afford great help in perusing a manuscript written continuously. For this purpose the spirits are more useful than the accents; for they show that the vowels over which they are placed are initials,—ignorance whereof is a fertile source of ambiguity; and for this purpose the spiritus lenis is as necessary as the aspirate. The latter is a letter, and an orthographical mark besides; the former is only a mark that the E begins another word, as in the example KAIEΤO, which is equivalent to KAI ΕΤΩ, the sign ι being equal to the space between the two words. It was afterwards usual to place a period after each word, as a spirit general affecting equally vowels and consonants, thus, KAIEΤIΛΑΕΤΙ; and this expedient is applicable to all words: and many manuscripts that were written continuously have received the convenient addition at a time long subsequent to the date of the writing.

If we consider the spiritus lenis in this point of view, the inventors of it will be exculpated from the absurdity of which Lanzi sought to convict them, and it will attach to those grammarians only who retained the mark after the practice of leaving a space at the end of every word became prevalent. We must esteem the Greek accents and spirits, especially if we acquiesce in this theory of their invention, as venerable relics of antiquity—as contrivances which have been superseded. On this account, and from habit, it is difficult for a scholar to consent to abandon them, or to rest satisfied with a work, however well printed it may be in other respects, in which they are omitted.

Orthographical expedients to facilitate reading are numerous and ingenious, as spaces, punctuation, capitals for proper names and at the beginning of sentences, the apostrophe, and many others. It would be an interesting pursuit to trace their origin and history. Much attention has always been paid to reading and writing by the Christians, the Jews, the Mahometans, and, in short, by all nations whose religion is comprehended in ancient writings. Among the Greeks and Romans, little of their worship had been reduced into writing, nor did they profess to be in possession of a code of divine laws, like the Koran and similar volumes that are studied, transcribed, and venerated, by the orientals. The reverence that Alexander the Great displayed for the poems of Homer, remarkable as it appeared to his contemporaries, was but a faint shadow of the homage and adoration that the people of the East lavish on their sacred volumes. The treatment which the Sibylline books received at Rome was perhaps in some respects similar; but they were not publicly read; the grand object, indeed, of those in whose custody they were placed being, although they were not wanting in veneration for the prophetic volumes, to conceal, and not to publish, their mysterious contents. We cheerfully acknowledge that the religion of Greece and Rome, as a political institution, had many important advantages; but it is not to be denied that it was less favourable to the diffusion of reading and writing than Christianity and some of the religions of the East. The translations of the Scriptures have preserved for the philologer many curious fragments of languages, of which there are no other remains. In pagan Rome, as in Greece, public recitation and reading aloud were practised to a great extent; but these exercises were always performed by persons of some learning, and of considerable experience, who were comparatively few in number. When the Christians increased, public readers were greatly augmented; it became necessary to read the Scriptures, homilies, and other pious compositions, not only to learned men in cities, but to the poor and ignorant in the most obscure villages of the most remote provinces; and this office was commonly performed by men of extremely moderate attainments. It became expedient, therefore, to devise every contrivance that could facilitate the task of reading in public. The Biblical critic knows, that we owe to this cause many orthographical advantages, which are now commonly enjoyed, although the source of them is not generally understood. We are unable, however, to pursue this part of the subject at present; nor can we find leisure to trace our ordinary running-hand. It may be followed step by step from the Greek cursive, in such works as the Palaeographia Graeca, sive de Ortu et Progressu Literarum Graecarum, of Bern. de Montfaucon; in the curious publication of the Abate Marini, the principal librarian of the Vatican, entitled I Pa- Alphabet, piri Diplomatici raccolti ed illustrati; in the specimens of D'Aguincourt, and in similar publications. The Arabic alphabet, which, especially in the hands of the Persians, seems expressly designed to favour rapid writers, has six unconnectible letters; and when the Greek characters are written in running-hand, there are several letters which may not be joined, some with those that precede, others with those that follow. In our cursive every letter in every word may be united; but as it was first adapted to the Latin language, the school-boy who has written even a theme in that tongue must have remarked that the letters unite more easily and pleasantly than in English.

The second plate (No. XX.) presents a comparative table of hieroglyphic and alphabetic characters. We cannot dwell upon this very singular assemblage of signs and symbols, or point out in detail the absurdity of the theories which would deduce alphabetic writing from the Egyptian hieroglyphics; but it will manifest itself most strikingly and plainly, and without prejudice, to an intelligent person who will examine attentively this table, which has been arranged expressly for the purpose of presenting an untenable and unfounded hypothesis in the least unfavourable light. The first column on the left, headed "Chaldaic Letters," contains an alphabet which is so important in the history of literature, that we must not pass it over without some notice. The Chaldaic or Hebrew alphabet consists of 22 consonants, of which the forms are given on the extreme left of the comparative table, and their powers on the extreme right, and of 14 vowel points, making a total of 36 letters, if we may reckon the points, which are held to be less ancient than the consonants, and are often omitted in manuscripts and printed books, as letters. There are, besides, in a great number, accentual and other marks, designed to facilitate reading, and sometimes perhaps chanting or singing. Of some of these, however, the use is not at present understood; our business is with the 22 consonants only, and with their forms. The third letter, g, is called Gimel, which signifies the camel. Camelus seu nomine Syriaco in Latium remit, as Varro elegantly writes. There can be no doubt about the derivation of the animal's name, but the letter is as much like any other creature as a camel. Pe, the 17th letter, is called the mouth; it resembles the nose or the eyes equally. And the letter that immediately precedes it, as its name implies, is thought to be a picture of the eye; but it is as faithful a representation of any other feature, or even of the whole face. The ingenuity of the engraver could not humour the appearance of the teeth so as to make it remind us, as it ought, of the last letter but one—Shin. A very learned Rabbi, from whom we formerly received some instruction in Hebrew, gravely affirmed that the letter Pe, the mouth, is the true image of that organ; and that if it had not been the Sabbath, he would have written it, and shown, moreover, that there is a piece of pudding in it. Being offered a dry pen, that he might point it out in a book, he refused to do even that act. Such a severe observance of the day of rest appeared very surprising to persons unacquainted with the strict literal interpretation that prevails in the East. He consented indeed to explain by words that the piece of pudding is that mark which is inserted in the 17th letter, Pe, and serves to distinguish it from the 11th letter, Caph. The learned Jew, however, did not regard consistency in his explanation, nor do these ingenious people in general; for Caph is the palm of the hand; and by placing a piece of pudding in it, although it would probably be more welcome to the mouth, it would not be made to resemble it in form. Jod, which Alphabet immediately precedes Caph, is the hand also; and these letters are equally unlike the hand and each other. We will not speak longer, however, of this miserable nonsense: the immense load of absurdity would soon become intolerable, if, in passing through several languages, we were to pick up in each some new extravagance. It is true that the names of the greater part, if not all, of the Hebrew letters, signify visible objects; but it does not follow that the letter ever resembled in form the object of which it bears the name. Nouns are used in the second intention without regard to shape; neither the horse for drying clothes, nor the dogs on which wood is burned, nor the cock of a barrel, nor a crow-bar, will remind us of any of the animals that lend them titles; nor do we ever see a boot-tree or a saddle-tree flourishing, like real trees, with leaves, flowers, and fruit. If we were to teach that our letter B derives its form and name from the insect, and that our alphabet, if considered in the same manner, would furnish a key to the Egyptian hieroglyphics, and would explain the origin of writing, we should not trifle more egregiously than certain expositors of the Hebrew characters.

Our third and last plate (No. XXI.) comprehends specimens of some remarkable alphabets. We will treat them in the order in which they stand. In the Syriac, the number and order of the letters are the same as in the Hebrew, and their names and powers are nearly the same also. The row of characters on the right is that square writing which is called Estranghelo. The letters in the next row are commonly termed Chaldee. Many of them resemble the former, and some are different. The open letters are the same as the first row, except that they are formed with greater regularity, and are more square. The remaining four columns consist of the ordinary Syriac letters, varying more or less in form from the Estranghelo, and arranged from the right to the left in order, as initial, medial, final, and solitary letters. Of these alphabets, the Estranghelo is the most ancient and solemn. Some maintain that the Hebrew Scriptures were originally written in this hand. It corresponds in its origin and use with the Roman capitals, which we esteem older than the small letters, and now use only for titles, inscriptions, and the like. The second column, or Chaldee, is called also the reformed Syriac, being a medium between the Estranghelo and the ordinary Syriac. Vowel points are added to these letters; but it is acknowledged that the use of them, in this language at least, is entirely modern. The Illyrian and Servian alphabets are evidently derived from the Greek: Graeco fonte cadunt; we cannot add, however, parce detor: the order of the letters is the same, many being inserted. The two rows of letters on the left, which are usually very like the Greek originals, are the Servian, and are commonly called the alphabet of St Cyril, being ascribed to that saint. The other two rows of letters, which are, as it were, double, and frequently of an extraordinary form, are the Illyrian, or Dalmatian, and are named the alphabet of St Jerome. We are apt to wonder why the good father should have taken so much trouble, if lie was indeed the inventor, to disfigure the elements of speech. The appearance of the Illyrian, when we see an entire passage in this character, is still more strange; it is impossible indeed to judge of its effect from a mere table of letters. We regret, therefore, that our space will not suffer us to give a specimen of this whimsical and unusual writing. The Russian alphabets, both ancient and modern, are formed from the Greek by additions and altera- Ethiopic alphabet, which occupies the middle of the plate, is extremely interesting, because it is said to be a great and important step in the history of writing; and it is expressly referred to by the very learned President Goguet, as a specimen of a syllabic alphabet: "rectius syllabarium quam alphabetum." Syllabic writing, if it ever existed, would not be a step from hieroglyphic to alphabetic writing: it would be a kind of alphabetic writing, in which the alphabet would be very numerous, and the sounds expressed by each letter complex; but it would have no connection with hieroglyphics; the pretended link would be united to the chain at one end, but not at the other. If we suppose proterner, the word chosen by Goguet, to be represented by three letters only, each of which is a syllable, as εσα, the σ, which stands for pro, would mark a complex sound, but it would not be in any respect hieroglyphic. It would not denote a sensible object or an idea, and so of the other two syllabic letters ε and η, and of all the rest. The conjecture would appear probable in itself, that syllabic characters are compounded of other and less complex forms; nor is the aspect of the alphabets that are put forth as belonging to this class so simple as to exclude the supposition. It is easy in the Ethiopic to trace the vowel which is added with tolerable uniformity to the simple letter. There are a few anomalies, no doubt, as in the grammatical arrangements of all languages. The first column on the left, next to the name, shows the simple letter. It is not combined with the vowel α, as it would seem at first sight; for that union is effected in the fourth or middle column. A moment's inspection of this alphabet and table of syllables will satisfy any one that it is composed of 26 consonants—we must use the word in an eastern sense—combined with six vowels, precisely like the tables ba, he, bi, bo, bu, hy, &c., in our spelling-books; and that it does not in any respect resemble the case which is put by Goguet, of the word proterner being spelled by three letters.

As the Sanscrit alphabet is not shown on our plates, we will not analyze it to prove that it is not to be considered as syllabic. The Persian is as much entitled to that appellation, because the junctio of the letters being often difficult, they write, for the assistance of learners, books full of syllables. It is not by steps built of such materials as these that we can hope to ascend to the origin of that most wonderful invention, the alphabet. The Ethiopic is derived from the Arabic: it is a dead language, like the Latin, and it is called the language of study, or the language of books: the Abyssinian, or Amharic, so called from Amhar, the principal province of Abyssinia, and termed the royal language, has taken its place as a living speech; and seven letters have been added to the 26 of the Ethiopic alphabet, which we have given. These two languages may be studied in the grammars of Job Ludolphus, who tells us that they are of difficult acquisition, and declares the words to be exceedingly unutterable—"maxime esse ineffabilia." The aspect of the characters, when arranged in words and sentences, is uncouth and unsightly: they somewhat resemble the Tironian notes, which, although their appearance is unpromising, were written, as we are informed by positive testimony, with great rapidity. Contractions, abbreviations, and connections, far from indicating that writing is in an imperfect condition, evince that penmanship is far advanced.

The Armenian alphabet consists of 38 letters. They have several other kinds of writing. We have given that which is called the round hand, and is used in printed books. Like ourselves, they write from the left to the right. The appearance of their printed books is neat and agreeable. The leaning of the letters was perhaps learned from the Italic, which was chiefly used by the Alphabet printers of Venice. The greatest benefactors to their literature and typography have been the congregation of Armenian monks, who resided at Methone in the Peloponnesus, and afterwards removed to Venice. This language possesses a few original works, but is chiefly rich in translations from the writings of St Chrysostom and other Greek fathers, which have improved and refined it. Those who are curious on the subject may consult the dissertation of Schröder, De Antiquitate et Fatis Linguae Armenicae; and the historian of a nation, to whom it is said we owe the apricot, and who have always been renowned for skill in the ancient, delightful, and honourable art of gardening, Moses Chorencensis. The Iberian or Georgian letters, as expressed in types, are commonly somewhat lighter than our engraved alphabet of 36 letters. The Georgians write also from the left, and have several kinds of writing. The plate represents the ordinary hand. The Coptic language derives its name from Coptos, a city of Upper Egypt, where it was chiefly spoken. It is said to be a mixture of Greek with the ancient language of Egypt, Ethiopic, and the old Persian. The alphabet, which is borrowed from the Greek, superseded the use of the older letters in Egypt, as the characters introduced by Cadmus possibly took the place of those that were used by the Greeks before his time. The names, figures, and order of the letters, are the same as in Greek. Eight letters were added to express sounds unknown to the Greeks. Seven of these follow the omega; psi is put out of its place, being the last letter; and ρ, under the name So, is duly inserted after the epsilon. This tongue has attracted some little attention, in consequence of the phonetic system, of which we have spoken. A full and handsome grammar was published at Rome in 1778, by the Society de propaganda Fide. The examples are given in Arabic, as well as Coptic. The Gothic alphabet of the patriarch Ulphilas, which is the last of our specimens, was formed in part from the Latin, and in part from the Greek: the letters are arranged in the order of the former language. We know not whether certain theorists will consider the double letters at the end as syllabic characters. The Runic alphabet is interesting from its connection with Scandinavian antiquities. It is nearly identical with the Icelandic: the letters are copied from the Greek and Roman, being a little varied for the sake of matching them more conveniently on sticks or staves; but the order of the sixteen letters is very different from both these alphabets. There are many specimens in Hickes's Thesaurus. These letters have afforded much scope for controversy. Those who are most favourable to the antiquity of the Runic inscriptions assign to them nearly 2000 years. Olaus Rudbeckius teaches that the Greeks used these letters before the time of Cadmus. Those who are least so say that they are not older than the third century of our era.

The best kind of Anglo-Saxon writing was very elegant; the small round characters that we see in charters are neat and extremely legible. Domesday book is written in a hand less perfect, but somewhat similar. After the Norman conquest writing deteriorated in England, and became quaint, affected, and illegible. In proportion as a nation is civilized or barbarous, the pronunciation of its language, it has been maintained, varies from the orthography. In the Celtic languages the variation is prodigious; in our own tongue it is very considerable; in the Anglo-Saxon, so far as we are able to judge, it was much less. That language was assiduously cultivated before the conquest, especially in poetry; many poems were composed, and in extremely difficult and complicated metres. After that event French became the language of the aristocracy; and the Saxon The Irish claim "an exorbitant antiquity" for their tree alphabet, in which the order of the letters is peculiar, and the name of each of them is borrowed from some tree. B, under the name Beith, which signifies a birch-tree, is the first of them; it is fit that the tree of knowledge should lead the band. This alphabet is commonly allowed to be a modern fabrication: a few antiquaries, however, are ready to maintain that it is many centuries older than the creation. In most languages words are pronounced in a manner somewhat different from that in which they are written; but in the Irish the aberration of the sound from the spelling is so great, that the only use of letters seems to be, to show how words are not pronounced by omitting all that are really wanted, and inserting all but the right. As straight lines placed in different positions will form most of the letters of the Roman alphabet, so the various arrangement of lines, shaped like wedges or the heads of arrows, would make a sufficient variety of characters not altogether dissimilar to the Roman. Two of them inclining towards each other at the bottom would be V, one wedge at right angles to another might represent L, and three might be so placed as to designate either F or H. It is not necessary to pursue the subject farther. The structure of the arrow-headed, cuneiform, or ancient Persian alphabet, must be already sufficiently intelligible. Inscriptions in this character, which perhaps was also esteemed sacred, closely resemble the Runic Ogham, represented in General Valancey's Irish Grammar.

The twenty-five instructive and excellent plates in the second volume of the Collection of Plates, published with the French Encyclopédie, contain many curious specimens of alphabets. They are taken, however, almost entirely and without acknowledgement, after the manner of the French literati, from the valuable publications of the Society de propaganda Fide at Rome. M. du Marsais, the writer of the article on the alphabet in that Encyclopédie, evinces a passionate desire to regenerate the world—such was the taste of the age—and strenuously recommends a new alphabet: had it been adopted, according to his advice, we should undoubtedly be using the old one at the present day. The numerous publications of the Society we have mentioned well deserve attention: and many curious alphabets are given in Niebuhr's Travels, and in other works that we need not enumerate. We have spoken already of the advancement which the arts of reading and writing have received from religion: we will mention a very remarkable and important alphabet, which derived its origin and its general diffusion from the same source. The Arabic letters are said to be the invention of the unfortunate Vizier Mocolah, who flourished at the beginning of the 10th century, and lost at different times, for political offences, his right hand, which had thrice copied the Koran, his left hand, and his tongue; cruel privations for a man of letters and an elegant penman. The Cypheic, a most grave and goodly character, appears to stand in the same venerable relation of paternity to the Arabic, as the Estranghelo to the vulgar Syriac. In the Arabian Nights, that faithful mirror of eastern manners, we find that the second Calender, who was a king's son, after describing his critical knowledge of the Koran, and of the commentaries on "that blessed book," boasts of his excellent penmanship thus: "But one thing, which I highly admired and succeeded in to admiration, was to form the characters of our Arabian language, wherein I surpassed all the writing-masters of our kingdom that had acquired the greatest reputation." Alphabet.

The Arabic character, especially as it has been modified by the Persians, who have added to it much elegance, with some affectation, is not only favourable to the most daring flights of the pen, but in an eminent degree also to rapid execution. Wherever the Koran penetrated it was received, and it superseded the older and more tedious modes of writing. This alphabet consists of twenty-eight or twenty-nine letters, for it is a question whether Lam-alif is to be accounted a letter; but it has as much right to the title as Λ, and some others in the Greek alphabet, and it can plead a proverb in its favour, "from alif to lam-alif" being exactly equivalent to "from alpha to omega." For twenty-eight or twenty-nine letters there are only seventeen primary figures, and these perhaps may be reduced to fifteen; and the letters of which the figures are similar are distinguished by the number and position of certain dots, which are called diacritical or distinctive points. It is precisely as if a numeral were added, as a co-efficient, to a letter in order to change its power entirely (we refer to this alphabet without a plate, as being generally known): thus, Ib is b, but 2b perhaps is j, 3b is n, 4b is t, and 5b is th; again, If is f, but 2f is k, and so with the rest. It is impossible to conceive a more clumsy device, or one more fruitful in mistakes, especially as they are distinguished, not by numerals, but by dots, which are easily omitted or misapplied. The Persians have added four more letters, by means of additional dots, without introducing a new figure. They content themselves, nevertheless, with a smaller number than the Arabs, and the same as the Greeks, for the purposes of their own tongue; never using eight of the letters except in words adopted from the Arabic. Thus, with the Romans k, y, and z, held offices in the foreign department only. The Persians vary the character in many hands, some of which are very beautiful, others very legible, and others very rapid. The Indians, when they write in the Arabic character, increase the number by three more letters, which they distinguish by additional points. The order of the Arabic letters has been changed; for their numerical value is the same as that of the twenty-two equivalent letters in the Hebrew, the six letters that have been added differ in their points only, and not in figure. It is a remarkable difference, that in the languages of the East, at least in that family which is called Semitic, the vowels are not expressed, but only the consonants. On the contrary, in all the languages of the West, the vowels and consonants enter equally into the composition of the writing. Besides the twenty-eight or twenty-nine letters, eleven other marks are used in the Arabic. In the Semitic family the vowels are not of the essence of the word, the radical meaning resides entirely in the consonants, and so it is also in the Teutonic tongues. In our own we have, for example, sang, sing, song, and sung, and innumerable other instances. Whatever may have been, therefore, the parent of the Greek, it is impossible to agree with Colonel Vans Kennedy, who maintains in his late work On the Origin of Languages, that the Teutonic tongues are the offspring of the Sanscrit, in which the vowels are radicals.

It has been conjectured with some ingenuity, but without foundation, that the Arabic characters in which the vowels are not expressed were invented for the common use of several dialects, in which the consonants alone were determined in an invariable manner, and the pronunciation of the vowels varied. They have certainly been applied thus, but they were invented to facilitate those who transcribed the pure Arabic of the Koran, as the Hebrew letters were used without points to ALPHÆUS, or Cleophas, father of James the Less, and husband of Mary the sister of our Lord's mother; for which reason James is called "the Lord's brother." It would seem that Alphæus was his Greek, and Cleophas, or rather Clopas, his Hebrew, or Syriac name. Compare John xix. 25, with Luke xxiv. 10, and Matt. x. 3.