_Gossip about Letters and Letter Writers._ By GEORGE SETON, Advocate.
Edinburgh. 1870.
We all of us know well, and to our cost, that we can make no
improvement in the management of our affairs, no change for the better
in the arrangements, economical and ethical, of our modes of life and
action without some attendant trial, trouble, or loss coming ever like
a shadow in its train. It is, therefore, not a cause for wonder that
some spirit of evil has cast its shadow in the wake of the
introduction of the penny post, and the still later changes in the
direction of cheapness in the newspaper press. A feeling of regret
arises in our minds that with their introduction the good
old-fashioned long and newsy letter of bygone days has been almost
crushed out of existence. Letter writing is becoming a lost art, and
no correspondence is now carried on as in the olden time; for no one
now lives 'a life of letter writing' as Walpole said he did. The
reason of this is not far to seek, for the hurry and bustle of life
has become too great to allow of anything but the passing thought
being committed to paper, and each writer finds it to be useless to
tell news to a correspondent who has already learned what has happened
from the same source as himself. It is now frequently a shorter
operation to call upon your friend and talk with him than to write him
a long letter; but it is a happy thing for us of this day that this
was not always the case, for the letters of the past which we possess
form one of the most charming branches of our lighter literature.
The value of communication between persons in distant places was
appreciated in very early times; and we find Job exclaiming, 'Now my
days are swifter than a post.' In the days of Hezekiah 'the posts went
with the letters from the king and his princes throughout all Israel
and Judah,' and Ahasuerus sent letters into every province of his
empire by 'the posts that rode upon mules and camels,' and were
'hastened and pressed on by the king's commandment,' to inform his
subjects that it was his imperial will that every man should bear rule
in his own house. Various modes of communication other than writing
have at different times been in use, such as numerically marked or
notched pieces of wood, and the many-coloured cords, regularly
knotted, which were called _quipus_ by the Peruvians. Herodotus tells
us of a cruel practice resorted to, in order to convey secret
intelligence with safety. The head of a trusty messenger was shaved,
and certain writings were impressed upon his skull. After his hair had
grown sufficiently long for the purposes of concealment he was sent on
his mission, and on arriving at his destination was again shaved, in
order that the writing might be revealed. When the Spaniards visited
America they found the postal communication in Mexico and Peru to be
carried out on a most perfect system; and we learn that the couriers
of the Aztecs wore a differently coloured dress, according as they
brought good or bad tidings.
The establishment of a postal system in England is chiefly due to the
sagacity of Richard III., who commanded the expedition against the
Scots, in his brother Edward's reign. During this time, as it was
necessary for the king and his government to know how the war was
carried on, stages of about twenty miles each were established upon
the North road. When Richard came to the throne he did not allow this
system to fall into abeyance. Henry VIII. instituted the office of
'Master of the Postes,' and from his time to the present the Post
Office has increased in importance year by year. Henry Bishop was
appointed Postmaster-General at the Restoration, on his entering into
a contract to pay to Government the annual sum of £21,500. In Queen
Anne's reign the revenue of the Post Office had risen to £60,000; in
1761 it reached £142,000; in 1800 £745,000; in 1813 £1,414,224, and is
now between four and five millions sterling.
Much of this great increase in the revenue is owing to the various
improvements that have been introduced; and most of these have come
from without, and have been opposed by the officials. John Palmer had
great difficulty in obtaining the adoption of his scheme of mail
coaches, and Sir Rowland Hill battled for many years for his penny
postage. Thomas Waghorn, the hero of the Overland Route, was
originally a pilot in the service of the Hon. East India Company, and
came to England with a letter of introduction from the Governor-General
to the chairman of the Company. The chairman cared nothing for his
scheme, and told him to return to his duties in India, saying that the
East India Company were quite satisfied with the postal communication
as conducted _viâ_ the Cape of Good Hope. Waghorn left the room,
disgusted with his reception, and wrote the following laconic note in
the hall:--
'To John Harvey Astell, Esq., M.P., Chairman of the Hon.
East India Company.
'SIR,--I this day resign my employment as a pilot in the
Hon. East India Company's Bengal Marine Service, and have
the honour to remain, your obedient servant,
'THOMAS WAGHORN.'
With the ink scarcely dry he rushed into the august presence, and
delivering his letter, said, 'There, sir, is my resignation of my
position in the Company's service, and I tell you, John Harvey Astell,
Esq., member of Parliament, and chairman of the Hon. East India
Company, that I will stuff the Overland Route down your throat before
you are two years older.'[58]
It was very long before the present enlightened views of cheap postage
took root in the official mind, and in a tract, entitled 'England's
Wants,' reprinted in 'Somers's Tracts' (vol. ix. p. 219), letters are
among the objects proposed for taxation. When the cost of postage was
high the receiver expected to get his money's worth in a long letter,
but various tricks were often resorted to in order to save this cost,
and blank letters, with a cipher on the outside, were sometimes sent,
and refused by the persons to whom they were directed, because they
had learnt from the exterior all that they wanted to know. Another
trick discovers an ingenious mode of getting letters free. A shrewd
countryman, learning that there was a letter for him at the post
office, called for it, but confessing that he could not read,
requested the postmaster to open it, and let him know the contents.
When he had obtained all the information he required, he politely
thanked the official for his kindness, and drily observed, 'When I
have some change I will come and take it.' The doctrine of the
inviolability of letters is held by all persons of honour, and Cicero
asks 'who at all influenced by good habits and feelings has ever
allowed himself to resent an affront or injury by exposing to others
any letters received from the offending person during their
intercourse of friendship?' Nevertheless, all Governments have
reserved to themselves the right of opening, in time of emergency, the
letters that pass through their hands. The great Falkland would not
countenance any such dishonourable doctrine, and Lord Clarendon says
of him, 'One thing Lord Falkland could never bring himself to, while
Secretary of State, and that was the liberty of opening letters upon
suspicion that they might contain matter of dangerous consequence,
which he thought such a violation of the law of nature that no
qualification of office could justify him in the trespass.' In late
years Sir James Graham incurred much public odium, for allowing the
letters of Mazzini to be opened as they passed through the English
post.
The history of literature presents us with many specimens of beautiful
letters, and of continued correspondence of a high order. The French,
more especially, excel in this charming department of the _belles
lettres_, and can claim a De Sevigné and a Du Deffand; while we too
can boast of the possession of Walpole, Gray, and Cowper among the
men, and of Lady Russell and Lady Mary Montagu among the ladies. Good
letters should be like good conversation, easy and unrestrained, for
fine writing is as out of place in the one as fine talk is in the
other. Pope did not understand this, and his early letters are showy
and unnatural, full of rhetorical flourishes on trivialities. He was
in the habit of keeping rough copies of his own letters, and sometimes
repeated the same letter to different persons, as in the case of the
two lovers killed by lightning, an account of which he sent to the two
sisters Martha and Theresa Blount. His letters, therefore, are of
little more interest than those of Katherine Phillips, the matchless
Orinda, to her grave Poliarchus (Sir Charles Cottrel). Dr. Sprat, in
his life of Cowley, makes some judicious remarks upon this subject,
but draws the conclusion that familiar letters should not be published
to the world.
'There was (he says), one kind of prose wherein Mr. Cowley
was excellent; and that is his letters to his private
friends. In those he always expressed the native tenderness
and innocent gaiety of his mind. I think, sir, you and I
have the greatest collection of this sort. But I know you
agree with me that nothing of this sort should be
published; and herein you have always consented to approve
of the modest judgment of our countrymen above the practice
of some of our neighbours, and chiefly of the French. I
make no manner of question but the English at this time are
infinitely improved in this way above the skill of former
ages. Yet they have been always judiciously sparing in
printing such composures, while some other witty nations
have tried all their presses and readers with them. The
truth is, the letters that pass between particular friends,
if they are written as they ought to be, can scarce ever be
fit to see the light. They should not consist of fulsome
compliments, or tedious politics, or elaborate elegancies,
or general fancies, but they should have a native clearness
and shortness, a domestical plainness, and a peculiar kind
of familiarity which can only affect the humour of those
for whom they were intended. The very same passages which
make writings of this nature delightful among friends will
lose all manner of taste when they come to be read by those
that are indifferent. In such letters the souls of men
should appear undressed; and in that negligent habit they
may be fit to be seen by one or two in a chamber, but not
to go abroad in the street.'
The letters of Scott, Byron, Southey, and Burns--all thoroughly
different in style--keep up the character of the moderns, and show
that they understood the secret of the art.
Letter-writing has a special charm for shy, retiring men, because they
are able to exhibit upon paper the feelings and emotions about which
they could not speak. Some men seem able to think only when a pen is
in their hands; though others, in the same situation, seem to lose all
their ideas. Johnson said of the industrious Dr. Birch, 'Tom Birch is
as brisk as a bee in conversation, but no sooner does he take a pen in
his hand than it becomes a torpedo to him and benumbs all his
faculties.' Dr. French Lawrence was an instance of the exact reverse,
for Fox made him put on paper what he wanted to relate, saying, 'I
love to read your writing, but I hate to hear you talk.'
Sir James Mackintosh was a great admirer of Madame de Sevigné, and we
find in his works the following admirable remarks on the proper tone
for polite conversation and familiar letters. We doubt whether it
would be possible to find juster or finer thoughts on this subject,
expressed in more elegant language:--
'When a woman of feeling, fancy, and accomplishment has
learned to converse with ease and grace, from long
intercourse with the most polished society, and when she
writes as she speaks, she must write letters as they ought
to be written, if she has acquired just as much habitual
correctness as is reconcilable with the air of negligence.
A moment of enthusiasm, a burst of feeling, a flash of
eloquence may be allowed, but the intercourse of society,
either in conversation or in letters, allows no more.
Though interdicted from the long continued use of elevated
language, they are not without a resource. There is a part
of language which is disdained by the pedant or the
declaimer, and which both if they knew its difficulty would
dread; it is formed of the most familiar phrases and turns
in daily use by the generality of men, and is full of
energy and vivacity, bearing upon it the mark of those keen
feelings and strong passions from which it springs. It is
the employment of such phrases which produces what may be
called colloquial eloquence. Conversation and letters may
be thus raised to any degree of animation without departing
from their character. Anything may be said, if it be spoken
in the tone of society; the highest guests are welcome, if
they come in the easy undress of the club; the strongest
metaphor appears without violence, if it is familiarly
expressed; and we the more easily catch the warmest
feeling, if we perceive that it is intentionally lowered in
expression out of condescension to our calmer temper. It
is thus that harangues and declamations, the last proof of
bad taste and bad manners in conversation, are avoided,
while the fancy and the heart find the means of pouring
forth all their stores. To meet this despised part of
language in a polished dress, and producing all the effects
of wit and eloquence, is a constant source of agreeable
surprise. This is increased when a few bolder and higher
words are happily wrought into the texture of this familiar
eloquence. To find what seems so unlike author-craft in a
book, raises the pleasing astonishment to the highest
degree. I once thought of illustrating my notions by
numerous examples from "La Sevigné." I must some day or
other do so, though I think it the resource of a bungler,
who is not enough master of language to convey his
conceptions into the minds of others. The style of Madame
de Sevigné is evidently copied, not only by her worshipper,
Walpole, but even by Gray, who, notwithstanding the
extraordinary merits of his matter, has the double
stiffness of an imitator and of a college recluse. Letters
must not be on a subject. Lady Mary Wortley's letters on
her journey to Constantinople are an admirable book of
travels, but they are not letters. A meeting to discuss a
question of science is not conversation; nor are papers
written to another, to inform or discuss, letters.
Conversation is relaxation not business, and must never
appear to be occupation, nor must letters. Judging from my
own mind, I am satisfied of the falsehood of the common
notion that these letters owe their principal interest to
the anecdotes of the court of Louis XIV. A very small part
of the letters consist of such anecdotes. Those who read
them with this idea must complain of too much Grignan. I
may now own that I was a little tired during the two first
volumes. I was not quite charmed and bewitched till the
middle of the collection, where there are fewer anecdotes
of the great and famous. I felt that the fascination grew
as I became a member of the Sevigné family; it arose from
the history of the immortal mother and the adored daughter,
and it increased as I knew them in more detail; just as my
tears in the dying chamber of Clarissa depend on my having
so often drank tea with her in those early volumes, which
are so audaciously called dull by the profane vulgar. I do
not pretend to say that they do not owe some secondary
interest to the illustrious age in which they were written;
but this depends merely on its tendency to heighten the
dignity of the heroine, and to make us take a warmer
concern in persons who were the friends of those celebrated
men and women, who are familiar to us from our childhood.'
A French writer has said, 'les marins ecrivent mal;' but the gallant
admiral, Lord Collingwood, whose correspondence was published in 1828,
was a brilliant exception to this rash assertion. The following
letter, addressed to the Honourable Miss Collingwood, is dated July
1809, and shows that its writer, in the midst of his manifold duties
as a sailor, found time to direct the education of his children.
'I received your letter, my dearest child, and it made me
very happy to find that you and dear Mary are well, and
taking pains with your education. The greatest pleasure I
have amidst my toils and troubles is in the expectation
which I entertain of finding you improved in knowledge, and
that the understanding which it has pleased God to give you
both has been cultivated with care and assiduity. Your
future happiness and respectability in the world depend on
the diligence with which you apply to the attainment of
knowledge at this period of your life, and I hope that no
negligence of our own will be a bar to your progress. When
I write to you, my beloved child, so much interested am I
that you should be amiable and worthy the esteem of good
and wise people, that I cannot forbear to second and
enforce the instruction which you receive by admonition of
my own, pointing out to you the great advantages that will
result from a temperate conduct and sweetness of manner to
all people, on all occasions. It does not follow that you
are to coincide and agree in opinion with every ill-judging
person; but after showing them your reason for dissenting
from their opinion, your argument and opposition to it
should not be tinctured by anything offensive. Never forget
for one moment that you are a gentlewoman, and all your
words and all your actions should mark you gentle. I never
knew your mother--your dear, your good mother--say a harsh
or hasty thing to any person in my life. Endeavour to
imitate her. I am quick and hasty in my temper, my
sensibility is touched sometimes with a trifle, and my
expression of it sudden as gunpowder; but, my darling, it
is a misfortune which, not having been sufficiently
restrained in my youth, has caused me much pain. It has,
indeed, given me more trouble to subdue this natural
impetuosity than anything I ever undertook. I believe that
you are both mild; but if you ever feel in your little
breasts that you inherit a particle of your father's
infirmity, restrain it, and quit the subject that has
caused it until your serenity be recovered. So much for
mind and manners; next for accomplishments. No sportsman
ever hits a partridge without aiming at it, and skill is
acquired by repeated attempts. It is the same thing in
every art; unless you aim at perfection you will never
attain it, but frequent attempts will make it easy. Never,
therefore, do anything with indifference. Whether it be to
mend a rent in your garment or finish the most delicate
piece of art, endeavour to do it as perfectly as it is
possible. When you write a letter give it to your greatest
care, that it may be as perfect in all its parts as you can
make it. Let the subject be sense, expressed in the most
plain, intelligible, and elegant manner that you are
capable of. If in a familiar epistle you should be playful
and jocular, guard carefully that your wit be not sharp, so
as to give pain to any person; and before you write a
sentence examine it, even the words of which it is
composed, that there be nothing vulgar or inelegant in
them. Remember, my dear, that your letter is the picture of
your brains; and those whose brains are a compound of
folly, nonsense, and impertinence are to blame to exhibit
them to the contempt of the world, or the pity of their
friends. To write a letter with negligence, without proper
stops, with crooked lines and great flourishing dashes, is
inelegant. It argues either great ignorance of what is
proper, or great indifference towards the person to whom it
is addressed, and is consequently disrespectful. It makes
no amends to add an apology for having scrawled a sheet of
paper, for bad pens, for you should mend them; or want of
time, for nothing is more important to you, or to which
your time can be more properly devoted. I think I can know
the character of a lady pretty nearly by her handwriting.
The dashers are all impudent, however they may conceal it
from themselves or others; and the scribblers flatter
themselves with the vain hope that, as their letter cannot
be read, it may be mistaken for sense. I am very anxious to
come to England; for I have lately been unwell. The
greatest happiness which I expect there is to find that my
dear girls have been assiduous in their learning. May God
Almighty bless you, my beloved little Sarah, and sweet Mary
too.'
Having seen from the foregoing extracts the principles that should
govern the composition of familiar letters, we shall be better able to
judge of the merits or demerits of the specimens that follow; and we
will take this opportunity of saying that we have preferred to choose
our examples from little known sources, rather than from such
well-known volumes as the correspondences of Walpole, Gray, or Cowper.
The celebrated Mrs. Elizabeth Carter was much troubled by one of her
most intimate and early friends always writing to her in terms of
great respect. In order to show her correspondent the absurdity of her
conduct, and to obtain an easier kind of intercommunication, she wrote
the following letter:--
'Nov. 29, 1742.
'To MISS ----
'It is with the utmost diffidence, dear Miss ----, that I
venture to do myself the high honour of writing to you,
when I consider my own nothingness and utter incapacity of
doing any one thing upon earth. Indeed, I cannot help
wondering at my own assurance in daring to expose my
unworthy performance to your accurate criticisms, which to
be sure I should never have presumed to do if I had not
thought it necessary to pay my duty to you, which, with the
greatest humility, I beg you to accept. Unless I had as
many tongues in my head as there are grains of dust betwixt
this place and Canterbury, it is impossible for me to
express the millionth part of the obligations I have to
you; but people can do no more than they can, and therefore
I must content myself with assuring you that I am, with
the sublimest veneration, and most profound humility,
'Your most devoted,
'Obsequious,
'Respectful,
'Obedient,
'Obliged,
'And dutiful,
'Humble servant,
'E. CARTER.
'I know you have an extreme good knack at writing
respectful letters; but I shall die with envy if you outdo
this.'
Aaron Hill expresses in elegant words what many have felt when they
have received a letter from one who was separated from them by time
and space:--
'Letters from absent friends extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent wish conveys,
And wafts embodied thought a thousand ways.
Could souls to bodies write, death's power were mean,
For minds could then meet minds with heaven between.'
James Howell, who has left us a most amusing collection of letters,
and therefore may be allowed to speak with some authority, says
'familiar letters may be called the 'larum bells of love;' and he puts
the same idea into the form of a distich, thus--
'As keys do open chests,
So letters open brests.'
Unfortunately all the letters in the _Epistolæ Ho-elianæ_ are not
genuine, but were written when Howell was confined in the Fleet
prison, and were made up in order to supply their author with money
for his necessities.
To Atossa, the daughter of Cyrus, has been given the credit of the
invention of letterwriting, but her claim is easily disposed of, as we
have specimens of written communications very long before her time.
The earliest letter of which we have any record is that written by
David to Joab, directing him to place Uriah in the front of the
battle. There are several classical stories, that bear a likeness to
this, of persons who carried letters, in which their own execution was
desired; thus Homer tells the story of Bellerophon, who himself bore
the sealed tablets that demanded his death. In later Jewish History we
learn from the Bible that Queen Jezebel wrote letters in Ahab's name,
and sealed them with his seal, and sent them to the elders and nobles.
Cicero was one of the earliest to bring the art to perfection, and his
letters exhibit most of the graces of which it is capable. Seneca and
the younger Pliny were also amongst the masters in the art. When we
consider the inconvenient and perishable medium that the Romans had to
content themselves with, we cannot but feel surprise at the number of
letters that were written, and the large proportion that has come down
to us. Thin wooden tablets, coated over with wax, were used and
fastened together with a crossed thread. The knotted ends were sealed
with wax, and as the letters were usually written by a confidential
slave (the _librarius_), the seal was the only guaranty of
genuineness. Sometimes ivory or parchment tablets were used, and an
elevated border was probably added, in order to prevent rubbing. The
want of a system of posts was not felt among the Romans, as most
families possessed _tabellarii_, or special slaves, whose duty it was
to convey letters to their destination.
It was the practice with the Romans to place the names of both the
writer and his correspondent at the commencement of the letter, as
'Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ, unto Timothy, my own son in the
faith;' and the ending usually consisted of the word _vale_, or _ave_,
or _salve_. The dates were scrupulously added, and sometimes the very
hours were mentioned. This method of the Romans might well be imitated
by us, for we often find an old letter rendered of little value by the
omission of a date. A bad habit that some writers indulge in is to use
the name of the day of the week, instead of the day of the month and
year.
Amongst ourselves, etiquette once placed her stern hands upon
correspondence, and laid down rules of how a letter was to be written.
Among persons pretending to any fashion it was considered proper to
use fine gilt paper, sealed with a coat of arms. Ladies used tinted
paper with borders, and sealed their letters with coloured and
perfumed wax. In town it was not the fashion to send letters or notes
through the post, nor to put the address upon the envelope, for no one
could be supposed to be ignorant of the abode of so distinguished a
person as Lady Arabella Smith. The circle of fashionable life,
however, has been so much enlarged and encroached upon, that most
people now are forced to acknowledge their ignorance on such points.
If we imagine that we should groan under these restrictions, what
should we think of the etiquette enjoined in the East? There
correspondence is carried on with many degrees of refinement. Letters
are written by some accomplished scribe, on beautiful paper, and the
sender's mark is placed in a particular position, according to the
recognised status of his correspondent. The letter is folded by rule,
and a florid superscription is added, such as, 'Let this come under
the consideration of the benefactor of his friends, the distinguished
in the State, the renowned, the lion in battle, on whom be peace from
the Most High.' The following are two amusing specimens of the untrue
complaisance common in Chinese correspondence:--
'To a Friend who has lately left another.
'Ten days have elapsed since I had the privilege of
listening to your able instructions. Ere I was aware, I
found my heart filled and choked with noxious weeds.
Perhaps I shall have to thank you for favouring me with an
epistle, in which I know your words will flow, limpid as
the streams of pure water: then shall I instantly see the
nature of things, and have my heart opened to understand.'
'To a Friend at a distance.
'I am removed from your splendid virtues. I stand looking
towards you with anxious expectation. There is nothing for
me, but toiling along a dusty road. To receive your advice,
as well as pay my respects, are both out of my power. In
sleep my spirit dreams of you; it induces a kind of
intoxication. I consider my virtuous brother a happy man,
eminent and adorned with all rectitude. You are determined
in your good purposes, and rejoice in the path of reason.
You are always and increasingly happy. On this account I am
rejoiced and consoled more than can be expressed.'
We are not now so distant as formerly in the commencement of our
letters, and use more friendly openings (such as 'Dear Sir,' 'My dear
Sir') than our fathers did. 'Sir,' alone, was once nearly universal,
but is now usually considered cold. Even Howell, who was most
inventive in his endings, usually commences with _Sir_, although once
he breaks forth with 'Hail! half of my soul.' Such beginnings as
'Right worshipful Father,' 'Good Sir,' 'Honoured Sir,' 'Respected
Sir,' are quite out of date, but many writers adopt a variety in their
commencements, and do not always follow the beaten track; thus the
great Chatham wrote to his wife, 'Be of cheer, noble love.' In modern
letters we miss the use of some of the quaint and loving expressions
of former days, such a one, for instance, as the good old word
'heart,' for is there not always a charm about an old letter beginning
with the words 'Dear Heart?'
The ending of a letter requires some taste, and many find it as
difficult to close one gracefully as to finish conversation and leave
a room with ease. The 'I remain' requires to be led up to, and not to
be added to the letter without connection. There is a large gamut of
choice for endings, from the official 'Your obedient servant,' and
high and mighty 'Your humble servant,' to the friendly 'Yours truly,'
'Yours sincerely,' and 'Yours affectionately.' Some persons vary the
form, and slightly intensify the expression by placing the word
'yours' last, as 'Faithfully yours.' James Howell used a great variety
of endings, such as 'Yours inviolably,' 'Yours intirely,' 'Your intire
friend,' 'Yours verily and invariably,' 'Yours really,' 'Yours in no
vulgar way of friendship,' 'Yours to dispose of,' 'Yours while J. H.,'
'Yours! Yours! Yours!' Walpole writes--'Yours very much,''Yours most
cordially,' and to Hannah More, in 1789, 'Yours more and more.' Mr.
Bright some years ago ended a controversial letter in the following
biting terms, 'I am, sir, with whatever respect is due to you.' The
old Board of Commissioners of the Navy used a form of subscription
very different from the ordinary official one. It was their habit to
subscribe their letters (even letters of reproof) to such officers as
were not of noble families or bore titles, 'Your affectionate
friends.' It is said that this practice was discontinued in
consequence of a distinguished captain adding to his letter to the
Board, 'Your affectionate friend.' He was thereupon desired to
discontinue the expression, when he replied, 'I am, gentlemen, no
longer your affectionate friend.' The expression was supposed to have
been adopted from James Duke of York, who, when Lord High Admiral,
always so subscribed his official letters; but we have found a letter
from the Navy Office to the Officers of the Ordnance, dated '9th May,
1653,' which is subscribed 'Your very loveing ffrends.' The position
of the writer's name was once a matter of consequence in Europe, as it
is now in the East, and this appears from the following curious
directions in Angel Day's 'English Secretary' (1599).
'And now to the subscriptions, the diversities whereof are
(as best they may be allotted in sense) to either of these
to bee placed, forwarned alwaies unto the unskilfull
herein, that, writing to anie person of account, by howe
much the more excellent hee is in calling from him in whose
behalfe the Letter is framed, by so much the lower shall
the subscription thereunto belonging in any wise be placed.
'And if the state of honour of him to whome the Letter
shall be directed doe require so much, the verie lowest
margent of paper shall do no more but beare it, so bee it
the space bee seemelie for the name, and the room faire
inough to comprehend it.'
We now come to the consideration of directions, and here a certain
etiquette still lingers, as many who have no claim to any title are
dignified by the addition of the meaningless &c., &c., &c. A friend of
the once celebrated agriculturist, Sir John Sinclair, amusingly
ridiculed the fancy that some men have for seeing a number of letters
of the alphabet after their names, by directing his letter to 'Sir
John Sinclair, A.M., F.R.S., T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z.' Besides the name of the
person to whom the letter was sent, it was formerly the custom to
write on the outside of a letter various directions to its bearer:
thus a letter of the Earl of Hertford afterwards the Protector
Somerset, to Sir William Paget, upon the death of Henry VIII., was
addressed 'Haste, Post Haste, Haste with all diligence, For thy life!
For thy life!'
As long as letters have been written, the inadvertent misdirecting of
them must have been a constant source of trouble and annoyance. In
James I.'s reign a lover sent a letter intended for his mistress to an
obdurate father, and his letter renouncing her to the lady. When he
found out the dreadful mistake he had committed life became
insupportable to him, and he threw himself upon his sword. Swift sent
a love-letter to a bishop, and the letter intended for the bishop to
the lady.
The celebrated civilian, Dr. Dale, was fortunate in the success of his
expedient of purposely misdirecting his letters. When he was employed
on a diplomatic mission to Flanders he was much pressed for money, and
in a packet to the Secretary of State he sent two letters, one for
Queen Elizabeth and the other for his wife, which he misdirected, so
that the letter for his wife was addressed _to her most excellent
Majesty_, and that for the Queen _to his dear wife_. The Queen was
surprised to find her letter beginning 'Sweetheart,' and concluding
with a request to her to be very economical, as the writer could send
her nothing because he was very short of money, and could not think of
trespassing on the bounty of Her Majesty any further. Dale was
successful in his stratagem, as an immediate supply of money was sent
to him and to his family.
There are three peculiarities in letter-writing that ladies indulge
in, viz., crossing, postscripts, and the underlining of words.
Disraeli makes Henrietta Temple advise her lover to cross his letters,
and states her reasons as follows:--
'I shall never find the slightest difficulty in making it
out, if your letters were crossed a thousand times.
Besides, dear love, to tell the truth, I should rather like
to experience a little difficulty in reading your letters,
for I read them so often, over and over again, till I get
them by heart, and it is such a delight every now and then
to find out some new expression that escaped me in the
first fever of perusal; and then it is sure to be some
darling word fonder than all the rest.'
Few men cross their writing, but many of them indulge in the luxury of
a postscript, and some even when they have closed their letters think
of a last word, and write it on the envelope. It is said that the
underlining of words is a confession of weakness in the writer,
because if he had used the best possible word he would not need to
give it extra force by the mere mechanical contrivance of underscoring
it with a pen.
Letters written in the third person are a constant snare to some
people and usually lead to confusion. This form can only be used with
safety in very short letters.
Frequently, a short note contains more pith than a longer letter, and
Politian's letter to his friend well exemplifies this: 'I was very
sorry, and am very glad, because thou wast sick, and that thou art
whole. Farewell.' One of the most spirited letters ever written, was
that sent by Ann, Countess of Dorset, to Sir Joseph Williamson,
Secretary of State in Charles the Second's reign, when he wrote to her
to choose a courtier as member for Appleby:--
'I have been bullied by an usurper, I have been ill-treated
by a court, but I won't be dictated to by a subject. Your
man shall not stand.
ANN DORSET,
Pembroke and Montgomery.'
The following note from one Highlander to another is very pointed and
witty:--
'MY DEAR GLENGARY,--As soon as you can prove yourself to be
my chief I shall be ready to acknowledge you. In the
meantime,
'I am _yours_, MACDONALD.'
Charles Lamb being tickled by the oddity of Haydon's address, sent him
the following reply to an invitation:--
'My Dear Haydon,--I will come with pleasure to 22, Lisson
Grove North, at Rossi's, half-way up, right hand side, if I
can find it.
'Yours, C. LAMB.
'20, Russel Court,
'Covent Garden East,
'Half-way up, next the corner,
'Left hand side.'
Ignorant people when they manage to write a letter are usually very
proud of their performance, and this is illustrated by a very good
story in the Countess Spencer's 'East and West.' A lady proposed to
Mrs. Law, a poor woman in St. Peter's Home, Kilburn, that she should
write to Lady E., who had been very kind to her. She had some doubts
at first, but they passed away, and she dictated a letter which is
given, and the narrator adds:--
'Having finished it to her evident pride, I offered to read
it to her; but I had hardly got down the first page when
she became so deeply affected by her own eloquence, that
she began to cry and rock herself backwards and forwards. I
persevered, and when I had read the last word, paused, not
knowing what to say to this unexpected grief. Mrs. Law put
down her handkerchief, and shaking her head very seriously,
said, "Well, now, that _is_ a lovely letter! It's a great
denial to me that I can't write, or I'd send plenty like
it."'
It is usually supposed that writing comes natural to all, but we are
often led to agree with Sheridan, that 'easy writing is cursed hard
reading,' and the highest art is often required to be thoroughly
natural. The Irish hodman, however, managed to express in a fine
confused way his inner feeling, that he himself was little better than
a machine:--
'DEAR PAT,--Come over here and earn your money: there is
nothing for you to do but to carry the bricks up a ladder,
for there is a man at the top who takes them from you and
does all the work.'
Excuses of hurry, with expressions of fear lest the post should be
lost, and such endings as 'yours in haste,' should seldom be indulged
in, as they partake somewhat of the character of a slight to the
receiver. The letters of ladies are usually more natural and
unconstrained than those of men, and these are great merits, for the
real man or woman should be seen in the letter. Locke says:--
'The writing of letters enters so much into all the
occasions of life, that no gentleman can avoid showing
himself in compositions of this kind. Occurrences will
daily force him to make use of his pen, which lays open his
breeding, his sense, and his abilities to a severer
examination than any oral discourse.'
The deficiency of ordinary people in the art has long been felt, and
complete letter-writers have been compiled to supply the want. Sir
Henry Ellis has pointed out that manuals of epistolary composition,
both in French and English, of the early part of the fifteenth
century, exist in manuscript. The 'English Secretary,' published in
1599, is perhaps the earliest work on the subject in print. The
voluminous author, Jervis Markham, brought out in 1618 a guide, with
the following title: 'Conceited Letters: or a most excellent Bundle of
New Wit, wherein is knit up together all the perfections of the art of
Epistoling.' The booksellers, Rivington and Osborne, applied to Samuel
Richardson to write for them a volume of letters in a simple style,
on subjects that might serve as models for the use of those who had
not the talent of inditing for themselves. While employed in composing
some letters for the benefit of girls going out to service, the idea
of 'Pamela' came into Richardson's head, and the subsequent success of
that novel caused him to continue the mode of telling his stories by
letters, which he had there adopted.
In entering upon the consideration of special classes of letters, we
will take love letters first. This is a style of literature of which
the outer public have few opportunities of judging, and doubtless it
is one that is not fitted for rigid examination. Those love-letters
that we read in the reports of breach-of-promise cases are usually
beneath contempt: they are often unreal, and make us sick with
references to Venus and Cupid, goddesses and nymphs, and many other
absurdities. There are, however, existing some interesting letters of
the reckless Earl of Rochester to his wife, which exhibit him in a new
and pleasing character. The following breathes a tender consideration
to which few are able to rise:--
'I kiss my deare wife a thousand times, as farr as
imagination and wish will give mee leave. Thinke upon mee
as long as it is pleasant and convenient for you to doe
soe, and afterwards forget me; for though I would fain make
you the author and foundation of my happiness, yet I would
not bee the cause of your constraint or disturbance, for I
love not myself soe much as I doe you, neither doe I value
my owne satisfaction equally as I doe yours.