THE STUDY OF HANDWRITING.

BY HENRY FRITH.

ANDWRITING lets out secrets," says the Rev. Mr. Spooner

in his article on "Handwriting and Character," in a late number of Murray's Magazine, but he adds, "How are we to judge?" It will be my care to initiate the reader into some of the secrets of the graphologist in this paper, which, I think, will convince the critic whom I have quoted that there is a good deal more in handwriting than appears to the average observer. Many of Mr. Spooner's criticisms are excellent, and his essay, although apparently a little contradictory, is well argued. It is in no spirit of rivalry, but with the view of supplementing his paper, that I am induced to give the graphologist's ideas upon "Handwriting and Character" in reply to the former essay.

In the first place it should be borne in mind that the actual style of writing-I mean writing what is usually termed a "good" hand-has comparatively little bearing on character. A man may be as honest as the day, and write a "bad" hand. Another may be deceitful and diplomatic, and yet write boldly, frankly, and we say what a good hand So-and-So writes. All the graphologist has to do is to study the forms of the letters, the upward, the even, or the downward direction of the lines, the firmness of the crossings of the "t's," and he will tell you whether the writer is really good or not, or whether his bad writing is the result of bodily infirmity, age, or the naturally rapid, often almost unintelligible, scrawl of imaginative genius-the result of the brain hurrying off at score, and the tired hand's endeavours to keep pace with it.

Again, the graphologist can only undertake to deduce true character from the natural unaffected writing of the subject; and it is a curious trait in most characters that the signature is almost invariably natural, although the writer may have endeavoured in some measure to disguise his "fist." But any one may disguise his handwriting; indeed, Lord Chesterfield declared that "any man who has the use of his eyes and his right arm can write any hand he pleases." Is it not a pity some do not please to write more intelligibly! Still, such handwriting is not true, but the character of the writer would be discovered after minute investigation; unless he was a practised dissimulator his letters would betray him in a short time.

As regards the change in handwriting in age, or when weakness of constitution, even temporarily, sets in, we have also something to say. The change which often comes with age is due to change of character in the individual, or to cases in which use is second nature, and, therefore, the writing is a natural outcome of character and disposition. Failing eyesight will often change a hand as a whole, but the forms of the letters will tell us whether the disposition is altered; or very possibly the consciousness of his bodily infirmity will make a man more careful and prudent in his general "walk and conversation." He may be unconscious of the change in him while he is writing, but circumspection and the necessity for carefulness are impressed upon his hitherto off-hand and impulsive brain. His hand alters, not because his eye-sight fails (for he can, and does, wear glasses), but because his mind is impressed by his weakness, and his nerves are answering to the

brain.

Once more as regards clerks. Mr. Spooner, whom I have already quoted, says, "We know how meaningless individual clerks' hands tend to become." The writing of some "has become by constant use an almost purely mechanical process.' These statements are capable of emendation. Let me in the first place state my belief that clerks' hands are not by any means "meaningless," that is, characterless, which is Mr. Spooner's contention. The average clerk writes a clear, open hand, neat and orderly in appearance. Why? Because he is not greatly imaginative; he is doing routine work for which nature has moulded him, and because his character is plodding, steady, honest, and not imaginative, his writing is steady, clear; well-formed letters, lines straight, all typical traits of a reliable clerk. He is a clerk because he has these characteristics-he has not these characteristics of writing because he is a clerk! Precision and neatness are his natural attributes; his writing shows him to be trustworthy, open, candid, honest, painstaking, neat and tidy. He is all these, and more, or he would not have been retained in his position. How can such handwriting be characterized as "meaningless!"

Besides, all clerks do not write such careful hands, such "copperplate." Take a youthful energetic correspondent, or a stockbroker's quick, clever, smart clerk, a man of ideas and intuition. Will he write a plodding hand? Certainly not. His writing will be flowing, with high-barred t's, and the letters will be uneven in height, showing tact and a flowing imagination, a quick brain. Compare the man who runs in a groove and the man who uses his brain a little outside his groove. They are both clerks, but they indicate their tendencies clearly in their writing. There are no doubt exceptions in which men have been obliged to do distasteful duties, and by will and application have conquered

NOTE.-Mark "mechanical;" no spontaneity in it-- no will, no brain!

their dislike to plodding; but their writing will break out when they are not in the office and not writing by "rule Even in the ledgers you will see the tendency to

and line."

hurry on.

Therefore, I maintain that hands are not "meaningless." They all have a meaning and character in them, and characteristics suited to the owners. The business hand may not display any marked eccentricity, or any great talent for painting or other form of art, but it will indicate punctuality, order, finesse, firmness, some selfishness most likely, with economy. I have such a handwriting by me now as I write, and though the individual is not a regular business man in trade, he is an excellent man of business if report be true. I have had no means of judging of him in such a capacity save from his handwriting.

As regards the handwriting of boys at school, we read: "In no particular is man more imitative than in this matter of handwriting. A vast majority of people in forming' their hands, more or less deliberately copy the writing of some one else-parent or teacher, friend or acquaintance." Then the critic says that a certain type of writing "has run over a considerable number of years through the great proportion of the upper boys in one of our public schools, a stamp of handwriting clearly due to the influence of one particular master."

Now, here, to my mind, Mr. Spooner is arguing against himself. He does not say that all the boys write alike, but only a certain proportion of them, and the writing is due to the "influence of the master." Precisely! The master's brain has overpowered the youthful brains of his pupils; his ideas are their ideas for the time being, and as he exerts his "influence" he causes them to imitate him. All, save some independent and original senior brains, do as his stronger brain bids them! They write as he does, at school. But after? When released from his influence, and when they have become lawyers, doctors, soldiers and sailors, do they write his hand? No, certainly not; unless their tastes are still in harmony with his in after life. Do two people ever write exactly alike? No! The schoolboys may write like their master because they have little will beyond him, and he has formed their characters for the time, but give them another master and try! Even on the face of the statement some boys write differently. The master has not the same influence with them. They have more "character" than the others.

Thus, I think the argument as to " meaningless" and characterless writing falls to the ground. The cases adduced by Mr. Spooner will not stand the test from the graphologist's point of By "accident," or by continual association, people may write alike; but the accident is the accident of similarity of disposition and character, and association will mould one disposition to another. If girls write like their mothers it is not because they

66 copy" " their mother's writing; it is because their mother's characteristics are reproduced in them.

There is a considerable approximation, as Mr. Spooner says, to the men's handwriting by women of the present day, and he goes on to say that women have "copied " the handwriting of the men. In most cases-save where a lady may be writing business circulars, and adopts, temporarily, a more manly hand-I venture to say that this change is in the occupations of women-the change in their lives, thoughts-and is the outcome of higher education, greater cultivation, and in the fact of the women treading on men's heels in every path of life, even outstripping them in many ways. Graphologists maintain that it is much less "external influence than internal (brain) influence that alters the writing. An artistic, somewhat sensuous, determined woman will give us rounded, graceful capital letters, and thick writing; sometimes eccentric forms of letters, which denote originality of mind, thickly crossed “t's,” which denote will, obstinacy, and so on. This is the very last woman likely to "copy" anything! Her masculine, original hand gives us an independent and determined character, which makes her write as she does. Mr. Spooner hits the right note when he says that "the untidy writing of mathematicians arises from their thoughts so constantly outstripping their power of expression in words." But if so, surely the copying, or "imitative," argument is cancelled! If the brain be admitted to have play in a man, why not in a woman and a schoolboy? Is not this admission inconsistent with previous criticism of the contributor aforementioned? Literary men, too, of impulsive imagination and of much energy, often write most indifferent hands-illegible, I mean. Take the late Walter Thornbury, the "Ettrick Shepherd," Macaulay, Byron, Fenimore Cooper, and the living (and long may he live) James Payn. These men are types of most imaginative and rapid writing. Some persons will doubtless cite "George Eliot " as an instance to the upsetting of my argument, but I fancy, for I do not know, that "George Eliot" did not write in a hurry; she had a splendid imagination, but she (I should judge) did not "dash off" her MS. Her clear writing is expressive of intellect and a carefully produced narrative-not a story thrown off from the quick-working, restless brain of a sensitive, energetic, perhaps irritable writer.

If any one can compare the handwritings of illustrious personages, he or she will at once perceive how the characteristics of the individual are reproduced. Look at Mr. Gladstone's firm, tenacious, ❝tactful," rather sensuous, but energetic, quick-tempered writing. His obstinate bars to the t's show despotism; the angularity of the letters, quick temper; the undulating writing, finesse; the thickness of it, firmness, obstinacy, love of enjoyment of a more or less physical character, and so on. Oliver Cromwell wrote a bold, steady hand; so did the Eighth Harry, and Charles the First a

fine open, candid, weak hand, irresolute to a degree; while his son Charles wrote a very "dissimulating" hand.

Lord Tennyson, again, is clear and classic; Washington wrote a manly hand; Moore, the poet, an easy-going, careless, running hand, as of a man easily influenced by his surroundings; Wendell Holmes, a graceful, finished hand; Mary, Queen of Scots, an elegant, sensuous hand, gentle, and yet with traces of firmness, though simple; Elizabeth's hand is severe and bold. So instances might be adduced almost ad infinitum to prove that the writing is due to the brain and not to "external" influences, as has been said.

I cannot say that I agree in the dictum that a man's signature is the most conscious and the "less spontaneous" part of his writing. On the contrary, I fancy it will be found that a man seldom writes his signature exactly the same six times running. Ask any bank cashier and he will tell you his experience. I believe the signature is the true expression in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, and for this reason. A man may take great pains to conceal his thoughts in a letter, but having finished and read it, being satisfied, he would not wish to dissemble his signature, and it would be with a natural feeling of relief that he would sign his name-for why dissemble it? His name, written by himself, is always valid; he has no need to alter it, save for bodily infirmity, or for some reason which will not bear investigation-a very unlikely case. It is conceivable that a man may alter his writing as a whole, but why alter his signature only? My own impression is that a person's signature is usually spontaneous, and an excellent index to his character. It varies often in details—a fact which tends to prove its spontaneity. It responds to the change of feelings.

Graphologists do not claim to "tell a person's history" from their handwriting. So far as I am aware the mental and bodily characteristics are indicated, and then a critic will evolve a very excellent delineation of character from the writing. Of course practice is required. Whist and billiards require practice; chemistry and other sciences also. So with palmistry and graphology. When one understands the basis of these sciences the details are only matters of application. Mr. Spooner remarks, "There are people to be found who believe in palmistry!" If he would study palmistry he would believe in it too. It is merely because people confuse "chiromancy" with gipsy fortune-telling that they pooh-pooh palmistry and kindred sciences. Those who do not understand are always the most contemptuous critics. But to be a true critic one ought to understand the thing criticised.

I could give instances in which I have told character by handwriting with correctness which appeared astonishing to any one who had not studied the principles. And in nations as in individuals. There is a grace in the Italian, and sentimentality; a pride in the Spanish types; an argumentative and self-contained