CHAPTER IX.CORRESPONDENCE.
THE “Excelsior Letter-writing Society” had now been in operation several weeks, and had thus far proved a popular and useful institution. The letter-box was regularly patronized by all its members, but one of them having brought upon himself the dire penalty of exclusion from it, and he for only a single day. I do not intend to expose the delinquent, but justice requires me to say it was neither Oscar nor Ronald. The letters which passed through the domestic post office were as various as the writers and their moods. Some were long, and some brief; some serious, and others funny. There were letters advisory, admonitory, commendatory, critical, mysterious, romantic, and quizzical; but none that were disrespectful or unkind,care having been taken to guard against these faults.
A few days after the events narrated in the preceding chapter, Marcus received a letter which afforded him peculiar gratification. It was from Oscar, and was as follows:
“Nov. 6th, 185—.
“Dear Marcus,—I think you would not have blamed me so much as you did for going to the circus, last Thursday, if you had known all the circumstances. I did not intend to go inside, when I went over to the village; but I met a boy there named Alfred Walton, that I used to be very intimate with in Boston. He belongs to the company, and tried to persuade me to join them, but I told him I did not wish to. Then he insisted upon my going in, and would not take no for an answer. He got me inside the tent, before I could get away from him. He told the doorkeeper I was his friend, and he let me in without paying. I am very sorry I went near the circus at all; but I could not very well help going in, after I saw Alfred.
“I must tell you about another thing that has troubled me a good deal. Alfred was mean or thoughtless enough to plague me about being sentenced to the Reform School, right before Otis andseveral other boys that know me. I turned it off as well as I could, but Otis has spoken to me about it since, and I am afraid he thinks there is something in it. I had to tell him what I suppose some people would call ‘a white lie,’ to get rid of him. I don’t see how I can keep the thing from coming out, unless I lie right up and down about it.
“I have thought much lately of what you said about self-government. I like your ideas, and I mean to try to put them in practice. If you could give me any hints that would help me in making the experiment, I should be very thankful.
“Yours truly,Oscar.”
To this letter, Marcus replied as follows, at his earliest convenience:
“Highburg, Nov. 7, 185—.
“Dear Cousin Oscar,—I have not received a more welcome letter for many a day, than yours of yesterday. The extenuating circumstances you mention, in regard to your visit to the circus, change my opinion of that act very much, as you may well suppose; for I thought you went deliberately, and of your own choice. You ought to have explained this before, and I wonder that you did not. Still, I do not think this plea wholly excuses you, unless you were actuallyforcedin, which Isuppose you do not pretend; and even in that case, you need not have remained in, after Alfred left you. So I must still believe that you were to some extent blameworthy, first, for putting yourself in the way of temptation by going to the circus grounds; and secondly, for yielding to the coaxings of your old friend. I am glad you see your error, and are sorry for it.
“As to keeping certain parts of your history secret, I do not think it a matter of so much importance as you probably do. If you behave well now, and for the future, these errors will soon be forgotten; but if they cannot be concealed without falsehood, I would not attempt to hide them. I would rather acknowledge the facts to Otis, and appeal to his honor and generosity to keep them secret. I think he would not betray you.
“I am rejoiced to learn that you mean to govern yourself. I wish I could help you in this noble work. You must imagine yourself a governor, appointed over a province. Your subjects are the various powers of your mind, the qualities of your heart, your habits, tastes, affections, etc. It is taken for granted that you know something of the law you are to administer. The Bible and your conscience will give you all the instruction you need on this point. The next thing to be done, is tomake yourself thoroughly acquainted with the people of your little province. Who are they? What is their character? Are they a hard set to govern, or the contrary? How can you best manage them? This isself-examination, and without it, we can neither know ourselves, nor govern ourselves. Well, after we understand pretty well what kind of subjects we have got to deal with, the next thing is to apply the law to them, firmly, vigorously, with unwearied watchfulness, and with a determination to conquer them. We must persevere in this until we accomplish our purpose, and our rule in our own little household is securely established.
“Let me give you a familiar illustration. In looking over the little inner kingdom I am called to rule, we will suppose that I find one subject that has proved quite troublesome. His real name is Laziness, but we will call him by his polite name, Mr. Ease. I can see very plainly, as I examine the past, that I owe to him a great many wasted hours and opportunities, and a great many good thingsnotdone. Well, one cold winter morning, I astonish Mr. Ease very much by informing him, before my eyes are fairly open, that I intend to rise instanter. This is something very strange, and he begins to expostulate, and to plead for a few moments more in the warm bed; but before he canfinish his plea, I am up, and half dressed. ‘You are not going to make the fire—your mother can do that,’ says Ease, as I go into the kitchen; ‘But Iamgoing to make it,’ I reply, and at it I go, at once. Then I go out to the barn, and see to the stock; but before the morning work is half done, Mr. Ease says, in his blandest voice, ‘Come, go into the house, and warm yourself, and get ready for breakfast. This is cold work—let the boys finish it.’ I pay no attention to his advice, but keep about my work until it is done, and have all the better appetite for my breakfast, for doing so. After that meal, Mr. Ease kindly reminds me that I have not read the magazine that came yesterday, and suggests that I might spend an hour very comfortably with it in the chimney corner, on such a cold morning. But I tell him it is a clear, bright day, and there is plenty of work to do, and at it I go, without further parley. After dinner, Mr. Ease again intrudes himself, in his blandest way. ‘Come,’ he says, ‘you’ve worked hard all the forenoon, now put the horse into the sleigh and have a ride; the afternoon is fine, and the sleighing excellent.’ ‘Ah, yes, the sleighingisgood,’ I reply; ‘I think I’ll improve it by hauling a load or two of wood, and take the ride some other time.’
“So I keep ‘snubbing’ this Mr. Ease, as coolly asyou please, day after day. Finding he is losing his power over me, he grows shy and glum, and slinks away, and at length I hear but very little from him. He is conquered. And if I find any other upstarts or usurpers in my dominions, I serve them in the same way. If I can’t snub them into submission, as I did Mr. Ease, I just seize them firmly by the throat, and choke them down. That is the way I served Mr. Anger.
“To do all this, you must rely upon principle, not impulse. You must form a fixed purpose to govern yourself, and adhere to it, through thick and thin. You must also be willing to submit to some self-denial and sacrifice. Don’t be frightened at those words. They look like bugbears, but after all, they are at the root of all our happiness. Almost our first and last experience of life is that of desires denied. From infancy to old age, we are daily and almost hourly called to sacrifice a lesser for a greater good; and until we yield cheerfully to this great law, we have not learned to live, nor have we known true happiness. Self-indulgence and ease make puny, vicious and unhappy men. Self-control and self-denial make strong and noble souls—the master spirits that rule the world.
“I will add but one thought more. However painful the effort at self-government may be, at first,the power of habit will gradually render the work easy, until at length it will actually become a pleasure.
“Wishing you much success in your good purpose, I remain
“Your affectionate cousin,
“Marcus.”
It was not often that so long and formal a letter as this found its way into the family post office. Most of the missives exchanged between the members of the society, were brief notes, a few specimens of which are given:
“Marcus Page, Esq.—Dear Sir,—I propose that we take the hay-cart, Saturday afternoon, and all hands go off after nuts. What say you to the plan?
“Yours truly,Otis.“Oct. 25th.”
“O, fie, Ronald! how could you say, ‘I intended to have wrote!’ It is perfectly barbarous. ‘I intended to have written,’ is what you should have said. ‘I got my lessons’ is bad, too; you mean youlearnedyour lessons. Please put two t’s in regretted, next time, and write Friday with a capital F. But I wont play the critic any more, just now,for fear you might banish from your list of correspondents
“Your faithful friend,Kate.“Nov. 2.”
To this note Kate received the following reply, the next day:
“O, fie, Kate! how could you say, ‘I intended to have written!’ It is perfectly barbarous. ‘I intended towrite’ is what you should have said. If you don’t believe me, I can show you the rule in the grammar. Don’t be afraid to ‘play the critic’—Iliketo have you do it!
“Yours in fun,Ron.“Nov. 3.”
Ronald was not accustomed to take things upon trust, especially from one near his own age, when he could conveniently verify their truth for himself. This habit led him to investigate the blunders pointed out by Kate, and the result was, that he was able to convict his critic of a serious grammatical error—a “turning of the tables” which he enjoyed with a roguish zest. Kate did not need to consult the grammar, to satisfy herself in regard to the error; for she at once recalled to mind the rule she had learned: “All verbs expressive of hope, desire,intention, or command, must invariably be followed by the present, and not the perfect of the infinitive.”
The post office sometimes served as a medium through which an uneasy conscience sought relief, as in the following:—
“Highburg, Oct. 26th.
“Dear Miss Lee,—I don’t know what you think of me, for speaking to you so rudely, last evening. I was only in fun, of course, but I suppose I carried it too far. I was sorry for it a minute after. I hope you will excuse me, this time, and I will be more careful in future.
“Ever yours,
Kate.”
Kate, in a merry mood, had rallied Miss Lee upon her state of singleness, applying to her the epithet, “old maid,” and using other expressions that were not quite proper, considering the differences between their ages; hence this apology. Miss Lee, it should be added, was loved and esteemed none the less by those who knew her, because of the peculiarity of which Kate made sport. She was an especial favorite with the children of the family, andher pleasant words and looks, her obliging disposition, her sound advice, her clear explanations of school lesson and other mysteries, her inexhaustible fund of anecdote and story, and not least, the beautiful productions of her pencil and brush, constituted an attraction which all felt and acknowledged. She had spent many years in teaching, but had now relinquished the profession. Her services as an artist were highly appreciated by the children, who coaxed many a pretty drawing or painting from her portfolio. Her letters were eagerly sought for, as they sometimes contained the fruits of her pencil, as well as of her pen. Here is one of them:—
“Nov. 4.
“Dear Otis,—Enclosed I send the drawing of the four dogs, which you wished me to make for your little brother. When you forward it to him, you had better call his attention to the dotted lines, otherwise he might not understand the design of the picture. If he should get a piece of tracing paper, he might easily make for himself a separate copy of each of the four dogs. I have not had a letter from you yet. Won’t my turn come soon?
“Your friend sincere,
“Fanny.”
Here is a copy of the picture enclosed in this letter:
Thus did the domestic post office serve alike to entertain the younger members of the family, and to educate their minds and hearts. Its novelty had not yet begun to wear off, and it was regarded by all as one of the established institutions of the family.