"Kind messages, that pass from land to land;Kind letters, that display the heart's deep history,In which we feel the pressure of a hand—One touch of fire—all the rest is mystery."—H. W. Longfellow."Every day brings a ship,Every ship brings a word;Well for those who have no fear,Looking seaward well assuredThat the word the vessel bringsIs the word they wish to hear."—R. W. Emerson.The nineteenth century is the grandest of all the centuries of time. It has done more for the education, the culture and the comfort of the world than all the ages that have gone before. Schools, seminaries and colleges have increased to an almost fabulous extent. With the increase in numbers there has been also an increase in efficiency and influence to such an extent that our institutions of education have become the glory of our land. In the eventful years of this century science has marched on with majestic strides, revealing to the earnest student the long-kept secrets of nature; while the spirit of invention has been busy through all the years making the path of life easier to walk, and redeeming our common life from much of its hardship and drudgery. The railway, the steamship, the telegraph and the telephone are hard at work bridging over space, and making minutes sufficient for tasks that not long ago required months to perform. The printing press is regarded by common consent as one of the greatest inventions the world has ever seen. It has beendescribed not inaptly as the miracle of the fifteenth century. But within the last few years the typewriter has come to claim a share in its honors, and to take its place among the most wonderful contrivances of the age.It would seem as though letter-writing, which half a century ago was a luxury and a delight, is about to become a lost art, a mere memory of days of happy leisure. Before the advent of Sir Rowland Hill, and the establishment of that wonder of our civilization, the modernized post office, men and women of education occupied their leisure hours in writing long, delightful letters to their friends.It is interesting to note that much of the most admirable literature of the eighteenth century took the form of letters. The best critics and essayists of that time, such men as Addison, and Steele, and Pope were aptly described as "men of letters." The severest and most caustic political strictures ever written were "The Letters of Junius," though who "Junius" was remains a secret, and will probably remain so to the end of time.But the world moves on! The days of leisure are passed, and a busier age demands quicker methods. In answer to this demand the writing-machines have appeared. These marvelous labor-saving inventions have already wrought a revolution in our commercial life, and they bid fair to put an end to letter-writing in all branches of commerce and in clerical professions generally. Yet, as long as the world lasts letter writing will hold an important place; indeed, it will always be a part of our best life. Business even will sometimes assume such importance, and involve so many intricate details, that it will seem that nothing short of a long and carefully written letter, in which the individuality of the writer appears in the character of his hand-writing, will fully serve the purpose of the occasion.There is something formal and official inseparable from a type-written letter. Type-written letters are more or less all alike, they have no individuality, are marked by no personal characteristics; while, on the other hand, no two letters from the pens of different writers are ever alike. A firm may send a dozen type-written letters on some important subject, with little or no result. But if the head of some department, or better still, the head of the firm himself, with his own hand, write a letter, then the matter is sure to receive prompt attention. Indeed, any matterof more than ordinary importance is surely well worth the trouble of a written letter.In more intimate intercourse, the hand-written letter still reigns supreme. The mother does not want a machine-written letter from her son. Type-written letters might be from some other son to some other mother. She wants to see her son's hand-writing, for to her loving eyes, his angular, awkward, and even misspelt, letters are a thousand times more beautiful and symmetrical than any letter any typewriter ever produced. What ardent lover would care to receive a type-written letter? Do not lovers fondly linger, and dote, and dream over the very characters wrought by the hand they love so well? A letter from a lover's hand is a revelation that no machine-written letter can ever be. Besides all this, are there not dottings of i's and crossings of t's, and countless twists, and turns, and underlinings, all full to the brim of mystic meanings that no typewriter on earth could convey?There are other things, moreover, that it would show very poor taste to commit to the typewriter. Such, for example, as letters of condolence or congratulation. No thoughtful, cultured person would send a letter of condolence to a mother who had lost a child, or a letter of congratulation on a wedding anniversary, written on a machine! It would be as far from good taste as though sent from a printing office in printed form.Who would have cared to have received type-written letters from thebrave boys who were fighting the battles of freedom thirty years ago? What treasures those letters were! Written from the battle-fields, on scraps of paper, with the drum head for a desk. Written in haste while "the foe was suddenly firing"; crumpled, blotted, and sometimes stained with blood. How the mothers and sweethearts kissed the precious missives, and even sturdy fathers were not ashamed of tears! The straggling, imperfect penmanship was beautiful, seen by the eyes of love. While love and tenderness endure, love letters and letters sent home must be written by the hand, for there is often as much impressiveness in the form of a letter as in the accents of the voice. In short, good and careful letter-writing will always form an important element in a liberal education. A gentleman is nowhere so much a gentleman as in his letters.It would be a good thing for Young America to take to heart the thought that the debts of personal correspondence are very sacred obligations. It is a cheap and easy thing to say that the friendship that cannot last without periodical letters had better die; but if friendship is worth having, if friendship is more than a name, it is surely worth keeping and guarding, when all that is asked to keep the fires upon its altars aflame is an occasional kindly letter. Thoughtlessness in this direction is unkindness, and especially in the matter of letters for the home circle. The "exile from home," in far-away lands, finds a letter from home as cheering and refreshing as a fountain in a dry desert land. And in like manner, the home-circle, and especially the mother's heart, is made strong and glad, and goes comforted for many a day by a kindly letter, however brief, from the absent and the loved."Write soon!" Oh, sweet request of truth,How tenderly its accents come!We heard it first in early youth,When mothers watched us leaving home.And still, amid the trumpet joys,That weary us with pomp and show,We turn from all this brassy noiseTo hear this minor cadence flow.We part, but carry on our waySome loved one's plaintive spirit-tune,That as we wander, seems to say—Affection lives on faith—"Write soon!"CHAPTER IIBETWEEN PARENTS AND CHILDREN116. To a Son Entering Business.L——, April 27, 19—.My Dear George:—The fact that your school days are ended and that you are about to enter on the real business of life, is a matter of deep interest to me, as well as of great importance to yourself. I am not disposed to preach a sermon to you, but a few words of good advice will not come amiss just now. All I want to say to-day I can compress into three very brief sentences. Be truthful. Be honest. Be manly. The man who is truthful in spirit as well as in letter, who is so thoroughly honest that he will neither steal nor take an unfair advantage, who is upright and manly in all his dealings, is the man who, in the long run, wins competence and honor. Let the Golden Rule be a guide for you through life. A sentiment from Shakespeare may fitly close this brief letter:"To thine own self be true;And it must follow as the night the day,Thou can'st not then be false to any man."God bless and prosper you in all your ways.Your affectionate,Father.117. From a Son to his Father Offering to Leave College.H—— College,H——, February 2, 19—.Dear Father:—You had told me enough of your affairs during my visit at home to prepare me somewhat for the news contained in your last letter. I hope even yet that means may be found by which you can meet your obligations. I shall be proud if I can be of any service to you at this critical time, but whether I can or not, I shall not be satisfied unless I make the effort. I want yourapproval in what I propose. You have, with much sacrifice I know, given me a year and a half of college life. I can never tell how much it has meant to me. Whatever I may be able to do for you now will not repay the debt of gratitude I owe you. The semi-annual examinations are just over, so that now is a very convenient time to break off here. I want to go straight to work. With energy and perseverance I can find something to do. Please write me at once that you consent, and give me any advice that occurs to you. I would suggest that I go to Uncle Henry's in C——, and keep his books evenings for my board, as he proposed last fall. I know of nothing new in his circumstances that would have caused him to change his mind about wanting me. I have written to him, and I look for a reply to-morrow morning. If he is willing to take me, and you think well of the plan, there will be nothing to prevent my going at once. In a city like C——, there must be plenty of employment for a willing, active young man, of fair ability and education, and good principles. What I may be able to earn will perhaps help you a little in your present difficulty; please, dear father, accept this offer fromYour loving grateful son,Alfred.118. Answer to the Above.My Dear Boy:—The generous spirit of your letter brought the tears to my eyes. I know well how much it will cost you to give up, or even postpone your college course. It will be hard to break off class associations, and leave the work that you find so congenial. I wish I could thank you for your noble offer, and tell you that we could worry through without your help, but I find, that my affairs are in a worse condition than intimated in my last letter. Have not given up hope yet, still cannot conscientiously refuse any means of relief that comes to me. Go, my dear son, to your Uncle Henry's, and God bless you. Am well-nigh crushed by this trouble, but the thought of your manly attitude brings me comfort and support. With God's help we shall pull through.Your affectionate,Father.119. To a Mother from Her Daughter after First Day in College.R—— College,R——, September 20, 19—.Dear Mother:—You have probably received by this time the postal card that I wrote you while we were in the midst of unpacking. We have at last emerged from chaos. I wish you could see our room—it is so cosy and inviting.I have so many things to tell you that I hardly know where to begin. "At the beginning," you will say. Very well. There was a gay crowd of laughing, excited girls at the station when I arrived. Such kissing and little shrieks and hugs! I felt quite left out in the cold. We all piled into the college bus together. It was a drive of two miles to the college buildings, and the scenery along the way was perfectly lovely. After we had arrived I was standing quite forsaken in the great main hall watching people who seemed entirely at home pass back and forth or gather in little knots, when a girl came up to me and said: "You are a new girl, are you not? If you will tell me your name I will show you to your room." Have since found out that the sophomores have charge of looking after the freshmen, and this girl was a sophomore. When she learned my name she went to the office to consult the directory, and came back and took me to room 89, on the third floor. There was a large bunch of daisies in a vase on the table. When I admired it, she said, "That's the way we sophomores have of hazing the freshmen." We had a long conversation, and she told me a great many things about the college and what to expect, and finally she concluded, "Now, don't forget, Miss Clarke, that I found you, and you sort of belong to me. If, at any time, you desire any wise advice, or if you get into any scrape and want to get out cleverly, why, call upon me. My name is Alma Robertson, address No. 56, east corridor, 2d floor. You know you can't do much till you've seen Prexy, so you'd better get your number as soon as you can."I discovered before long what she meant. There were about ten girls waiting in the outer office of the President. Some one handed me a square of paper marked 53. "No. 17 is closeted now," a girl told me, "and I am No. 18." So I went back to my room to wait—no longermyroom, however, butourroom,for there I found my room mate. She is perfectly lovely. Her name is Elizabeth Gyllane. She is a sophomore, and the friend from her own class whom she expected to room with her had not returned to college. I know Elizabeth was very much disappointed, but she made me feel at once that she was pleased with the arrangement made for her, and she was as sweet as could be to me. She is one of the most tactful and unselfish persons I ever met. She is from Virginia, and speaks with a southern accent. She has no mother. Do you think that is why she likes so much to hear about my own? She says she has a very clear impression of you already, and almost loves you. I never got acquainted with any one so quickly before. She understands exactly what you mean and how you feel, and you don't have to explain things.Every girl has to take an hour's exercise a day. You can walk or you are allowed to row in the wide flat-bottomed boats, if you can prove to the authorities that one is not strong enough to capsize them.We have not had regular recitations yet, but our lessons are all assigned for to-morrow. I had no idea I should dread it as I do. All the girls I have met have such a superior, learned air—not at all like the high-school girls. I have a perfect horror of being considered stupid.Elizabeth and I are going for a row at 3 o'clock this afternoon. She has a great many friends who are always coming to see her and making plans that include her, but she told me this morning that she wanted me to go out with her this afternoon—"just we two alone," she said, "for a nice long time together."I don't know what I should do without her. Last evening I felt so lonely and homesick. I was thinking of you and papa and the baby, and how long it would be before I should see my beloved ones again. Elizabeth found me in our bedroom on the bed, and she was just splendid. She didn't try to jolly me up, but instead she was very serious, and talked with me about my home. She put her arm about me and said, "Alice, your kind of homesickness is a blessed thing. One may be homesick because one has no home to be homesick for." I wondered if she meant herself, but I didn't say anything, for fear of making her feel badly. But I thought how very selfish I was to be accepting her sympathy when perhaps she needed sympathy more than I did.Please give my dearest love to papa, and ask baby not to forget "Lala."I am sure I am going to be very happy here, dear mother, although the homesick feeling takes possession of me every once in a while. It seems already as if I had not seen you for half a year.You must have been very tired after I left home, you had worked so hard helping me get ready. I find I have everything I need, and my clothes look beautifully. I can never thank you enough for all you have done for me, and are doing for me. I know you will say that the best thanks I can offer is to make the most of my opportunities, and I shall try not to disappoint you.Your affectionate daughter,Mabel.120. Answer to the Above.B——, September 23, 19—.Dear Mabel:—Your long, interesting letter was duly received. We are very glad to have a clear idea of your new life, and to know that everything opens up so pleasantly. Elizabeth seems to be a very lovely girl, of fine sensibility and womanly character, and I hope sometime we may all know her. She is evidently trying to make your first few days of college life happy ones, and in order to reciprocate her unselfish thought for you, you must have your eyes open to see her needs and wishes. I have regretted that you had no sister of your own age to share your room with you at home, for experience teaches one many lessons in the art of being an ideal room-mate—for it is an art. Perfect breeding, delicacy of perception that will keep one from ever being intrusive, adaptability in little things, orderly habits, responsiveness, sympathy, unselfishness, loyalty, are the qualities to be cultivated by one who desires to be at all times an entirely agreeable room-mate, and these you have, my child, all in more or less degree, I believe: but you are apt to be thoughtless, and you will need to exercise care and self-control. I believe that the friendships you form at college with your classmates and teachers are as important as the studies you are pursuing. This does not imply that you should ever neglect your lessons for social enjoyment. I am sure you have too much good sense to draw such a conclusion.Your father and I are very anxious that you should derive much culture and good mental training from your college course. As far as you can command your own motives, study for the knowledge and the discipline to be derived, rather than for marks or class standing. The higher one's aim, the more permanent will be the result.It is hard to become used to your being away, my precious child. The house is lonely without you. But it is for your good, and I am so thankful that we can give you this opportunity that I do not grumble. It is a comfort to us to be able to remember that you have always been a good daughter. We love to recall your pleasant ways, and the many proofs of your earnest purpose to do right.Write to us freely, and tell us of your successes and your difficulties, for we shall want to know all that concerns you.Gertrude has been to the house to inquire what we have heard from you. She will be delighted to have you write to her. You must not forget your old friends in making new ones. Aunt Mary, also, will appreciate a nice letter from you.The baby wanted to write "Bebel," so I gave her paper and pencil, and she insists upon my enclosing her scrawl. Good-bye, my darling. God bless you. Father says: "Tell Mabel I love her."Your affectionateMother.121. From a Son to His Father, Excusing His Extravagance.H——, December 20, 19—.Dear Father:—I can never thank you enough for your kind, indulgent letter. I am deeply sorry to have occasioned you so much anxiety, and am most grateful to you for your timely aid. Believe me, in the future I will endeavor to give you no further cause for complaint, and I only regret that I should have allowed myself to be led into such thoughtless extravagance. You may depend upon my following your advice, and proving myself worthy of your generous kindness.I am, dear father,Your affectionate son,Harry.122. From a Mother to Her Daughter on Her Birthday.E——, April 25, 19—.My Darling Edith:—I have planned that this letter should reach you on the morning of the 27th, which is your sixteenth birthday. Your father, brothers and sisters desire me to speak for them, and to say how sincerely we send you a thousand good wishes on this happy day. If only you could have been at home with us, that we might have had one of those old-time festivals! But, dear daughter, the path of duty demands many sacrifices of us all. You are where it is best for you to be, fitting yourself for the serious but delightful duties that must sooner or later demand your attention.A little box, which I hope has reached you safely, contains some trifling tokens of affection from each one of us, which I know you will appreciate to the full. The box also contains the materials for a pleasant little entertainment, which, I have no doubt, Mrs. Dash will allow you to give to your school-fellows, as I have written to beg a half holiday for the occasion.God bless you, my dear Edith, and may every succeeding year find you increasing in all that is wise, in understanding and in beauty of character, is the earnest prayer ofYour affectionateMother.123. From a Son to His Father, Expressing Dislike of His Present Occupation.C——, April 15, 19—.Dear Father:—I feel that you will be disappointed at what I am about to say, but, after due consideration, hope you will not think I am altogether wrong in frankly stating my dislike for office work. I have now been here nearly six months, and find this employment as little to my taste as when I first began. Have tried my best to form a liking for the work, but am quite sure I shall never get on in this kind of occupation.Should be very glad to talk the matter over with you; it is not that I am afraid of work; am sure, however, that I shall never make a success in a business which has no attraction for me.I have given it a fair trial, and have put off writing to you on the subject as long as possible; but as there is no chance of my changing my mind, further delay would be useless. I shall hope to hear from you in a day or two, dear father, and with love to all,Believe me,Youraffectionate son,Harry.124. From a Little Boy at Home to His Papa.C——, April 13, 19—.My Dear Papa:—I hope to see you soon, you have been away a very long time; when are you coming back again? I have tried to be a good boy, and Miss Meriam says I have been most attentive at my lessons. Dear mamma will send this little letter with hers. I love you with all my heart.Your affectionate little son,Freddy.125. From a Little Boy to His Grandfather.C——, August 5, 19—.Dear Grandpa:—I hope you are enjoying good health, as usual. I wish you many happy returns of your birthday, and I send you a little paper knife which I bought with my own money, and I hope you will like it and use it; it cuts beautifully. Carrie is going to send you a present also, but I must not tell you what it is to be; she made it herself.I am, dear grandpa, with much love,Your affectionate grandson,Fred Selden.126. From a Little Boy to His Uncle.C——, May 4, 19—.Dear Uncle George:—I can never thank you enough for the beautiful watch you sent me on my birthday. Mamma says I may wear it, but I must not wind it up until I am older, and she is going to do it every day herself for me. I have learnt to tell the time by it; it is now a quarter past three, and we are going out for a walk in the park; so good-bye, dear Uncle George.We all send you our best love.Your affectionate nephew,Fred Selden.127. From a Little Boy at School to His Sister.R——, May 31, 19—.Dear Daisy:—School closes on Thursday week. I hope my rabbits are well, and my pony also. How is the garden looking? I will help you all I can in it when I come home. We are going to have a baseball match with the high-school boys, this afternoon; so good-bye. Give my love to all. I hope mamma got my letter.Your affectionate brother,Eddie.128. From a Little Girl at School to Her Mamma.W——, October 19, 19—.Dear Mamma:—Am so sorry that Miss Peabody has had to complain of me, but I do try to learn my very difficult lessons, and when I cannot do so I cry until my head aches. Dear mamma, I wish you would allow me to put German aside until next term, and then perhaps I should get on better with my French lessons.Please give my love to dear papa, and tell him I would not make him unhappy if I could help it, but I have so much to learn every day, and all the girls in my class are older than I am, and have been much longer at school.With lots of kisses for you, papa and puss,Your very affectionate daughter,Maggie.129. From a Little Girl at Home to Her Absent Mother.F——, June 11, 19—.Darling Mother:—We all miss you very, very much indeed, and hope to hear in your next letter that grandma is almost well, and that you will be able to come home in a day or two. Papa is writing to you by this post. I am going out for a ride with him presently. Nurse says the children are very good and happy. Lulu cried a little last night because she could not say good-night to you, but she soon went to sleep while nurse told her a pretty story about a good little girl who did everything her papa and mamma wished. Good-bye, dear darling mother.Your loving daughter,Kittie.130. From a Little Girl on a Visit, to Her Mamma at Home.O——, August 15, 19—.Dearest Mamma:—Cousin Flora is writing to you, but I thought you would also like a little letter from me. I am enjoying myself very much, every one is so kind, but I must tell you all I have seen when I come home. I am longing to see you, dear mamma, and with best love to you and dear papa, I remain,Your affectionate daughter,Sarah.131. From a Little Girl to Her Grandmamma.P——, November 10, 19—.My Dear Grandma:—It was so delightfully kind of you to send me such a beautiful doll! Mamma has given me a cradle to put it in at night, and I mean to take it out walking with me every day. Dear mamma says the next time she comes to see you she will bring me with her; I hope it will be soon; don't you?With best love, dear grandma, believe me, as ever,Your affectionate granddaughter,Hattie.132. From a Little Girl to Her Brother at School.B——, October 10, 19—.Dear Charlie:—You can't imagine how much I miss you. I have no one to play with me now. How do you like being at school? are the lessons very difficult? are there any nice boys like you? Do tell me all about it; what you have for dinner, what hour you go to bed, and what games you play at, and how long you are allowed to play.Papa and mamma send their best love.Your affectionate sister,Lulu.Vertical HandwritingA B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Za b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z &Whatever I have tried to do in this life, I have tried to do well, whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devotedvertical handwritingCHAPTER IIITO AND FROM RELATIVES, GUARDIANS, ETC.133. From a Mother-in-Law to a Son-in-Law.D——, November 12, 19—.My Dear Alfred:—I was delighted to hear such an excellent account of you all from Alice; although it is some time since I have been to your house, still I must always feel deeply interested in all that concerns you and yours.Perhaps I was too hasty in concluding that the advice I offered would offend you: I know, it is generally considered that a mother-in-law's interference is never welcome, however reasonable may be her remarks; but, believe me, dear Alfred, what I said was meant in good faith, and I had no intention of censuring or criticising any arrangement of yours. I should have expressed the same opinion to any friend of mine under similar circumstances had I been consulted. The fact of your being my son-in-law induced me to imagine that I might speak frankly to you without fear of giving offence; indeed, I regard you as a son, and you must not be too quick to resent words my motherly affection prompts me to say.With kindest love to Alice, yourself and my dear little grandchildren,Believe me,Yours affectionately,Emily Shaw.134. From a Mother-in-Law to a Daughter-in-Law.P——, December 30, 19—.My Dear Maud:—I have to tell you how much I enjoyed my little visit last week, the first I have paid to your pretty new home, and I trust many years of happiness are in store for you and my dearson. He tells me that he has in you the most considerate and affectionate of wives: I sincerely rejoice that it is so. I have seen so many unhappy marriages, rendered such through thoughtlessness and extravagance on the part of the wife, that nothing pleases me more than to think my boy is so fortunate in his choice. His limited means call for the most careful domestic management, and not a little self-denial, and it is so easy when first commencing housekeeping to run into more expense than one's income justifies; but this error I am sure you will carefully guard against, always remembering what strict supervision is required in the smallest domestic details.I have learned this from experience, dear Maud, which I have found to be the best, if not the most pleasant, of teachers.With kindest love to yourself and my son,Believe me,Yours affectionately,Malvina Wright.135. From a Daughter-in-Law to a Mother-in-Law.C——, August 20, 19—.Dear Mrs. Park:—Edward and I are most anxious to know if you have returned home yet, and how you have enjoyed your stay in the mountains. We received your last letter dated July 31st, and have been a little surprised at not hearing from you oftener.I hardly know where to write to you, but suppose this letter will follow you at the Summit House. Edward is pretty well, and is looking forward to his vacation, which has been postponed this year on account of extra work in the office, but we do not regret this, as we have had such very stormy weather the last three weeks.The children unite with me and Edward in love to dear grandmamma.Believe me, as ever,Yours affectionately,Lilian Dwight.136. From a Daughter-in-Law to a Father-in-Law.E——, February 10, 19—.Dear Mr. Winthrop:—We have been delighted to learn from your last letter that you have been quite well in spite of the severe weather we have lately experienced, and that you are in such good spirits. How wise not to let the small worries of life depress you. I wish I had a little of your philosophy; as it is, I take things too much to heart, and am inclined to allow trifles to vex me. You set us all such a good example by your unvaried cheerfulness.I suppose you were very much interested in Tuesday's meeting, as you are such a keen judge of politics; but will not express my opinion of it, gathered second-hand from my husband, in case it should run counter to yours. This you may call cowardice on my part, but it is really discretion.With kindest love from Ned, also myself, believe me, dear Mr. Winthrop,Your affectionateHilda Winthrop.137. From a Sister-in-Law to a Brother-in-Law.C——, August 10, 19—.My Dear Julius:—As you doubtless know, from long personal experience, my husband is a very bad correspondent, and has, I have discovered, allowed your last kind letter to remain unanswered for nearly a month; so I will try and take his place as far as possible, and ask you to accept me as his substitute. Your news was most interesting to us both. You seem to have had a very pleasant holiday; we quite envied you, and I very much wish Horace could have gone along, if only for a week; but he is so hard worked that there seems no chance of his having even a day's holiday until the end of the season. He is, however, am happy to say, quite well. I suppose you will be back about the end of the month; if myadvice is worth having, I should say do not make the long and fatiguing return journey too quickly, but take a fair amount of rest on the way; it is a great mistake to travel night and day after weeks of complete repose and quiet, and is calculated to destroy most of the benefit derived from change of climate and surroundings.With kindest love,Believe me, dear Julius,Your affectionate sister,Eva Dillingham.138. From a Brother to a Married Sister Asking for Her Husband's Influence.N——, June 14, 19—.Dear Polly:—You have doubtless asked yourself why I did not write to you lately; the fact is, I have been rather out of spirits, besides being very much occupied.Am beginning to discover there is little chance of promotion where I am now employed, and that it is almost time to look around for something better. Do you think your husband might take any active interest in me, and would you dislike speaking to him on the subject? I do not exactly know the extent of his influence, or indeed if he possesses any, but I thought from the responsible position he holds with Lombard Bros. & Co., he might perhaps know of some opening that would suit me. I have never as yet spoken to him about my own affairs, and if, on your part, you feel any reluctance in mentioning the subject, pray do not hesitate to tell me so.Jack seems very happy at school, but is looking forward to spending his holidays with you.I suppose Mabel's marriage will take place in the autumn, from what she says.With kind love, believe me,Your affectionate brother,Ernest Rand.139. From a Sister to an Elder Brother, about a Temporary Loan.The Misses Sterling's School for Young Ladies,S——, May 18, 19—.My Dear Edward:—I have an important favor to ask, which I trust you will grant, if it can be done without any real inconvenience.I have just received a very pressing invitation to go with Mrs. Hubbard and her daughters to London and Paris; afterward to make a tour with them in Switzerland. This would be quite a new experience for me, as I have never yet been abroad. I could not, of course, promise to join them until I had consulted with you about it, dear Ned, and ask you whether you would make me a small advance to meet the necessary expenses of the journey, and to purchase the few things I should require before starting.Would you think $300 too much to spare at the present time? I have a little money left, but not enough to justify my accepting this invitation without some little help. You have always been so kind and considerate toward us all, younger children, that I know you will gladly give me this pleasure if it lies in your power to do so. It seems a long time since I have seen you, or even heard from you, but I know how many your engagements are, and that a letter from one so busy is hardly to be expected, unless there is something especially interesting to be communicated.With kindest love, believe me, dear Edward,Your affectionate sister,Pauline.140. From a Niece to an Aunt.A——, July 15, 19—.Dear Aunt Selma:—I do earnestly hope you and Uncle Phillip have not thought me neglectful in not writing to you before this, but beyond asking after you both and hoping you are quite well, I felt I had nothingto write about. I lead, as you know, such a quiet life, and the days so resemble each other, that I can hardly distinguish them apart. I ought perhaps to be glad of this, as family news when it has to be told is seldom a matter of rejoicing; quite the contrary, it generally forebodes trouble and sorrow—at least I have found it so.The east winds have been very trying to my mother lately, but I am happy to say she is fairly well and able to go out every day. She sends her love to you, and hopes to have the pleasure of seeing you and my dear uncle before long.How is your work society getting on? I suppose your Sunday-school picnic will take place next month, as usual. I can imagine how busy Uncle Phillip must be just now in his garden. Are the bees thriving? and how do the new glass hives answer? Has he been making any fresh experiments?Please give him my best love, and with much to yourself,Believe me, dear aunt,Your affectionate niece,Sophia Moore.141. To a Cousin, Wishing a Merry Christmas.F——, December 21, 19—.Dear Cousin Jane:—I wish you and dear Aunt Mary a merry Christmas, and many New Years in the happy future.It is a long time since we have met; circumstances do not bring us together—quite the contrary; and were it not for the annually returning Christmastide, I fear we should almost drop out of each other's recollection. I am therefore glad of the opportunity of inquiring after you and Aunt Mary, and trust that you are both pretty well. I fear she is rather dreading the severe weather which is prophesied to be in store for us, but prophecies are not always fulfilled, and, in any case, I hope she will not have a return of her old complaint, rheumatism.With kindest love and best wishes,Your affectionate cousin,Eunice Cary.142. From a Ward to His Guardian, Asking for an Increased Allowance.D——, March 10, 19—.Dear Mr. Wilson:—With great reluctance I come to ask you to make me a further allowance, but the fact is, I find it impossible to meet the necessary expenses that I am compelled to incur, on the sum at present allowed to me. And as I know how much you disapprove of my getting into debt, I thought it best to write to you frankly on the subject, and ask to see what you could do for me. I should be perfectly satisfied with an additional $500 per annum, and trust you will not think this request unreasonable.I beg to remain,Very truly yours,Reginald Roberts.143. Answer to the Above.C——, March 15, 19—.Dear Reginald:—I dislike extremely to refuse a request of yours, but were I to comply with the last one, just received, I should only encourage you in extravagance. Your poor father considered the sum at present allowed you amply sufficient for your wants, and I do not feel justified in acting contrary to his expressed wishes. However, I have no objection to making you a present of $100 to meet any pressing claim, but must again warn you that it is imperative you should restrict expenses within the limits of your allowance, and this can readily be done by giving a little more attention to details, and by being less thoughtless in your every-day expenditure.I am, dear Reginald,Your sincere friend,Frederick Wilson.CHAPTER IVTO, FROM AND ABOUT GOVERNESSES, CHAPERONS, COMPANIONS, HOUSEKEEPERS, ETC.144. From a Governess Applying for a Position.B——, June 8, 19—.Madam:—Mrs. Alfred D. Campbell informed me, this morning, that you were in want of a governess for your two little girls, and she recommended me to apply for the situation at once, thinking that I might perhaps suit you. My experience in teaching has been gained at home; for the last two years I have undertaken the sole tuition of my younger sisters. I may say that I have been well educated, and am quite capable of instructing young ladies up to the age of fourteen. Mrs. Campbell has known my family for many years, and authorizes me to say that, should you wish her to write respecting my qualifications and fitness for the post of governess in your house, she will be happy to do so.Hoping to hear favorably in reference to the matter,I remain,Yours very respectfully,Gertrude Leland.145. Asking a Lady Concerning an Applicant for the Position of Governess.B——, June 28, 19—.Dear Mrs. Campbell:—You had the kindness of mentioning to Miss Leland that I was on the lookout for a governess for my little girls. I understand, from a letter I just received from this young lady, that she has not hitherto filled a similar situation, but this I should not consider a drawback if her qualifications were satisfactory. Would you say she was thoroughly well educated? Can she teach French and German to beginners, and has she a good knowledge of music? Is she both amiable and conscientious? She says you have known her family for some years,so no doubt will be able to satisfy me on all these points. As regards the question of salary, I propose giving my governess $500 a year. Will you kindly mention this to her, and if your answer is such as I expect, I shall have no hesitation in engaging her at once. I have had a great many applications for this situation, but I think it such an advantage to obtain a governess personally recommended by a friend; therefore I am so much obliged to you for advising Miss Leland to write to me.With kind remembrances to you and Mr. Campbell, believe me, as ever,Very truly yours,Marcella Tyler Porter.146. Recommending a Governess.L——, June 12, 19—.Dear Mrs.Porter:—I am happy to be able to speak in the highest terms of Miss Leland, both as regards her capabilities and moral training; she has been carefully brought up and well educated; is amiable and high principled. She speaks German and French fluently, and her knowledge of music is above the average; she has acquired some experience in teaching, through having instructed her younger sisters. I may add, from what I know of Miss Leland you need have no hesitation in engaging her.Believe me,Very truly yours,Delia Story Campbell.147. Answering an Advertisement for a Chaperon.W——, May 4, 19—.Edward Worthington, Esq.,N——.Sir:—Replying to your advertisement for a "Companion and Chaperon to a young lady," I take the liberty of offering myself for the situation.My late husband was a captain in the U. S. army; I am 35 years of age, and have been a widow three years. I am a good linguist, and can speak French and German fluently; so thatshould your daughter wish to continue her studies or travel abroad, my knowledge of languages might be of use to her. I am considered a clever musician, and have had a good musical education. The salary mentioned in your advertisement would be quite satisfactory to me, and I should consider myself most fortunate were my qualifications to meet with your approval.With regard to references, Mrs. Black, wife of the Rev. Phillips Black, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, this city, and Mrs. Bruce, 1750 M—— Avenue, N——, would be very glad to answer any questions respecting me. Awaiting your answer,Believe me,Yours respectfully,Honoria De Witt.148. Answering an Advertisement for a Companion.S——, July 19, 19—.Miss Selma White,City.Madam:—Answering your advertisement in the "Item" of Saturday the 7th inst, I beg to offer my services as "Useful Companion to an Elderly Lady." Should not be afraid to undertake the care of an invalid, and to have the management of household affairs, as, in both these particulars, I have had no little experience in my own family. Am 36 years of age, and the daughter of a physician. Owing to circumstances with which I need not trouble you at the present moment, am anxious to obtain a situation of this nature.I have been accustomed to read aloud and to write letters from dictation, and to entertain elderly people.Perhaps it is premature to mention references in this letter, but may say that I could thoroughly satisfy you on this point by giving you the names of several ladies of high standing, in this city, who have kindly promised to recommend me.Hoping to hear from you favorably,I am, Madam,Yours respectfully,Eva B. Clark.149. Replying to an Advertisement for a Housekeeper.C——, December 12, 19—.Sylvester Cary, Esq.Answering your advertisement in this morning's "Tribune" for a housekeeper, I beg to offer my services in that capacity.Am 35 years of age, and my experience has been gained through having had the entire control of my uncle's house for seven years. The whole of the domestic arrangements were in my hands—the engaging and dismissing of servants, giving all orders, and keeping the household accounts. I also superintended the education of the two younger children, attended to their wardrobes, and had the entire charge of them.Can offer two unexceptionable references, besides a personal one from the uncle mentioned above, Mr. Frank Robinson, 310 Masonic Temple, city.Have no doubt that you will receive many applications for the situation vacant in your establishment; still, I hope that this offer of my services may meet with your favorable consideration.Respectfully,(Miss) Miranda Taylor.
"Kind messages, that pass from land to land;Kind letters, that display the heart's deep history,In which we feel the pressure of a hand—One touch of fire—all the rest is mystery."—H. W. Longfellow.
"Kind messages, that pass from land to land;Kind letters, that display the heart's deep history,In which we feel the pressure of a hand—One touch of fire—all the rest is mystery."—H. W. Longfellow.
"Kind messages, that pass from land to land;Kind letters, that display the heart's deep history,In which we feel the pressure of a hand—One touch of fire—all the rest is mystery."—H. W. Longfellow.
"Kind messages, that pass from land to land;
Kind letters, that display the heart's deep history,
In which we feel the pressure of a hand—
One touch of fire—all the rest is mystery."
—H. W. Longfellow.
"Every day brings a ship,Every ship brings a word;Well for those who have no fear,Looking seaward well assuredThat the word the vessel bringsIs the word they wish to hear."—R. W. Emerson.
"Every day brings a ship,Every ship brings a word;Well for those who have no fear,Looking seaward well assuredThat the word the vessel bringsIs the word they wish to hear."—R. W. Emerson.
"Every day brings a ship,Every ship brings a word;Well for those who have no fear,Looking seaward well assuredThat the word the vessel bringsIs the word they wish to hear."—R. W. Emerson.
"Every day brings a ship,
Every ship brings a word;
Well for those who have no fear,
Looking seaward well assured
That the word the vessel brings
Is the word they wish to hear."
—R. W. Emerson.
The nineteenth century is the grandest of all the centuries of time. It has done more for the education, the culture and the comfort of the world than all the ages that have gone before. Schools, seminaries and colleges have increased to an almost fabulous extent. With the increase in numbers there has been also an increase in efficiency and influence to such an extent that our institutions of education have become the glory of our land. In the eventful years of this century science has marched on with majestic strides, revealing to the earnest student the long-kept secrets of nature; while the spirit of invention has been busy through all the years making the path of life easier to walk, and redeeming our common life from much of its hardship and drudgery. The railway, the steamship, the telegraph and the telephone are hard at work bridging over space, and making minutes sufficient for tasks that not long ago required months to perform. The printing press is regarded by common consent as one of the greatest inventions the world has ever seen. It has beendescribed not inaptly as the miracle of the fifteenth century. But within the last few years the typewriter has come to claim a share in its honors, and to take its place among the most wonderful contrivances of the age.
It would seem as though letter-writing, which half a century ago was a luxury and a delight, is about to become a lost art, a mere memory of days of happy leisure. Before the advent of Sir Rowland Hill, and the establishment of that wonder of our civilization, the modernized post office, men and women of education occupied their leisure hours in writing long, delightful letters to their friends.
It is interesting to note that much of the most admirable literature of the eighteenth century took the form of letters. The best critics and essayists of that time, such men as Addison, and Steele, and Pope were aptly described as "men of letters." The severest and most caustic political strictures ever written were "The Letters of Junius," though who "Junius" was remains a secret, and will probably remain so to the end of time.
But the world moves on! The days of leisure are passed, and a busier age demands quicker methods. In answer to this demand the writing-machines have appeared. These marvelous labor-saving inventions have already wrought a revolution in our commercial life, and they bid fair to put an end to letter-writing in all branches of commerce and in clerical professions generally. Yet, as long as the world lasts letter writing will hold an important place; indeed, it will always be a part of our best life. Business even will sometimes assume such importance, and involve so many intricate details, that it will seem that nothing short of a long and carefully written letter, in which the individuality of the writer appears in the character of his hand-writing, will fully serve the purpose of the occasion.
There is something formal and official inseparable from a type-written letter. Type-written letters are more or less all alike, they have no individuality, are marked by no personal characteristics; while, on the other hand, no two letters from the pens of different writers are ever alike. A firm may send a dozen type-written letters on some important subject, with little or no result. But if the head of some department, or better still, the head of the firm himself, with his own hand, write a letter, then the matter is sure to receive prompt attention. Indeed, any matterof more than ordinary importance is surely well worth the trouble of a written letter.
In more intimate intercourse, the hand-written letter still reigns supreme. The mother does not want a machine-written letter from her son. Type-written letters might be from some other son to some other mother. She wants to see her son's hand-writing, for to her loving eyes, his angular, awkward, and even misspelt, letters are a thousand times more beautiful and symmetrical than any letter any typewriter ever produced. What ardent lover would care to receive a type-written letter? Do not lovers fondly linger, and dote, and dream over the very characters wrought by the hand they love so well? A letter from a lover's hand is a revelation that no machine-written letter can ever be. Besides all this, are there not dottings of i's and crossings of t's, and countless twists, and turns, and underlinings, all full to the brim of mystic meanings that no typewriter on earth could convey?
There are other things, moreover, that it would show very poor taste to commit to the typewriter. Such, for example, as letters of condolence or congratulation. No thoughtful, cultured person would send a letter of condolence to a mother who had lost a child, or a letter of congratulation on a wedding anniversary, written on a machine! It would be as far from good taste as though sent from a printing office in printed form.
Who would have cared to have received type-written letters from thebrave boys who were fighting the battles of freedom thirty years ago? What treasures those letters were! Written from the battle-fields, on scraps of paper, with the drum head for a desk. Written in haste while "the foe was suddenly firing"; crumpled, blotted, and sometimes stained with blood. How the mothers and sweethearts kissed the precious missives, and even sturdy fathers were not ashamed of tears! The straggling, imperfect penmanship was beautiful, seen by the eyes of love. While love and tenderness endure, love letters and letters sent home must be written by the hand, for there is often as much impressiveness in the form of a letter as in the accents of the voice. In short, good and careful letter-writing will always form an important element in a liberal education. A gentleman is nowhere so much a gentleman as in his letters.
It would be a good thing for Young America to take to heart the thought that the debts of personal correspondence are very sacred obligations. It is a cheap and easy thing to say that the friendship that cannot last without periodical letters had better die; but if friendship is worth having, if friendship is more than a name, it is surely worth keeping and guarding, when all that is asked to keep the fires upon its altars aflame is an occasional kindly letter. Thoughtlessness in this direction is unkindness, and especially in the matter of letters for the home circle. The "exile from home," in far-away lands, finds a letter from home as cheering and refreshing as a fountain in a dry desert land. And in like manner, the home-circle, and especially the mother's heart, is made strong and glad, and goes comforted for many a day by a kindly letter, however brief, from the absent and the loved.
"Write soon!" Oh, sweet request of truth,How tenderly its accents come!We heard it first in early youth,When mothers watched us leaving home.And still, amid the trumpet joys,That weary us with pomp and show,We turn from all this brassy noiseTo hear this minor cadence flow.We part, but carry on our waySome loved one's plaintive spirit-tune,That as we wander, seems to say—Affection lives on faith—"Write soon!"
"Write soon!" Oh, sweet request of truth,How tenderly its accents come!We heard it first in early youth,When mothers watched us leaving home.And still, amid the trumpet joys,That weary us with pomp and show,We turn from all this brassy noiseTo hear this minor cadence flow.We part, but carry on our waySome loved one's plaintive spirit-tune,That as we wander, seems to say—Affection lives on faith—"Write soon!"
"Write soon!" Oh, sweet request of truth,How tenderly its accents come!We heard it first in early youth,When mothers watched us leaving home.
"Write soon!" Oh, sweet request of truth,
How tenderly its accents come!
We heard it first in early youth,
When mothers watched us leaving home.
And still, amid the trumpet joys,That weary us with pomp and show,We turn from all this brassy noiseTo hear this minor cadence flow.
And still, amid the trumpet joys,
That weary us with pomp and show,
We turn from all this brassy noise
To hear this minor cadence flow.
We part, but carry on our waySome loved one's plaintive spirit-tune,That as we wander, seems to say—Affection lives on faith—"Write soon!"
We part, but carry on our way
Some loved one's plaintive spirit-tune,
That as we wander, seems to say—
Affection lives on faith—"Write soon!"
L——, April 27, 19—.
My Dear George:—
The fact that your school days are ended and that you are about to enter on the real business of life, is a matter of deep interest to me, as well as of great importance to yourself. I am not disposed to preach a sermon to you, but a few words of good advice will not come amiss just now. All I want to say to-day I can compress into three very brief sentences. Be truthful. Be honest. Be manly. The man who is truthful in spirit as well as in letter, who is so thoroughly honest that he will neither steal nor take an unfair advantage, who is upright and manly in all his dealings, is the man who, in the long run, wins competence and honor. Let the Golden Rule be a guide for you through life. A sentiment from Shakespeare may fitly close this brief letter:
"To thine own self be true;And it must follow as the night the day,Thou can'st not then be false to any man."
"To thine own self be true;And it must follow as the night the day,Thou can'st not then be false to any man."
"To thine own self be true;And it must follow as the night the day,Thou can'st not then be false to any man."
"To thine own self be true;
And it must follow as the night the day,
Thou can'st not then be false to any man."
God bless and prosper you in all your ways.
Your affectionate,Father.
H—— College,
H——, February 2, 19—.
Dear Father:—
You had told me enough of your affairs during my visit at home to prepare me somewhat for the news contained in your last letter. I hope even yet that means may be found by which you can meet your obligations. I shall be proud if I can be of any service to you at this critical time, but whether I can or not, I shall not be satisfied unless I make the effort. I want yourapproval in what I propose. You have, with much sacrifice I know, given me a year and a half of college life. I can never tell how much it has meant to me. Whatever I may be able to do for you now will not repay the debt of gratitude I owe you. The semi-annual examinations are just over, so that now is a very convenient time to break off here. I want to go straight to work. With energy and perseverance I can find something to do. Please write me at once that you consent, and give me any advice that occurs to you. I would suggest that I go to Uncle Henry's in C——, and keep his books evenings for my board, as he proposed last fall. I know of nothing new in his circumstances that would have caused him to change his mind about wanting me. I have written to him, and I look for a reply to-morrow morning. If he is willing to take me, and you think well of the plan, there will be nothing to prevent my going at once. In a city like C——, there must be plenty of employment for a willing, active young man, of fair ability and education, and good principles. What I may be able to earn will perhaps help you a little in your present difficulty; please, dear father, accept this offer from
Your loving grateful son,Alfred.
My Dear Boy:—
The generous spirit of your letter brought the tears to my eyes. I know well how much it will cost you to give up, or even postpone your college course. It will be hard to break off class associations, and leave the work that you find so congenial. I wish I could thank you for your noble offer, and tell you that we could worry through without your help, but I find, that my affairs are in a worse condition than intimated in my last letter. Have not given up hope yet, still cannot conscientiously refuse any means of relief that comes to me. Go, my dear son, to your Uncle Henry's, and God bless you. Am well-nigh crushed by this trouble, but the thought of your manly attitude brings me comfort and support. With God's help we shall pull through.
Your affectionate,Father.
R—— College,
R——, September 20, 19—.
Dear Mother:—
You have probably received by this time the postal card that I wrote you while we were in the midst of unpacking. We have at last emerged from chaos. I wish you could see our room—it is so cosy and inviting.
I have so many things to tell you that I hardly know where to begin. "At the beginning," you will say. Very well. There was a gay crowd of laughing, excited girls at the station when I arrived. Such kissing and little shrieks and hugs! I felt quite left out in the cold. We all piled into the college bus together. It was a drive of two miles to the college buildings, and the scenery along the way was perfectly lovely. After we had arrived I was standing quite forsaken in the great main hall watching people who seemed entirely at home pass back and forth or gather in little knots, when a girl came up to me and said: "You are a new girl, are you not? If you will tell me your name I will show you to your room." Have since found out that the sophomores have charge of looking after the freshmen, and this girl was a sophomore. When she learned my name she went to the office to consult the directory, and came back and took me to room 89, on the third floor. There was a large bunch of daisies in a vase on the table. When I admired it, she said, "That's the way we sophomores have of hazing the freshmen." We had a long conversation, and she told me a great many things about the college and what to expect, and finally she concluded, "Now, don't forget, Miss Clarke, that I found you, and you sort of belong to me. If, at any time, you desire any wise advice, or if you get into any scrape and want to get out cleverly, why, call upon me. My name is Alma Robertson, address No. 56, east corridor, 2d floor. You know you can't do much till you've seen Prexy, so you'd better get your number as soon as you can."
I discovered before long what she meant. There were about ten girls waiting in the outer office of the President. Some one handed me a square of paper marked 53. "No. 17 is closeted now," a girl told me, "and I am No. 18." So I went back to my room to wait—no longermyroom, however, butourroom,for there I found my room mate. She is perfectly lovely. Her name is Elizabeth Gyllane. She is a sophomore, and the friend from her own class whom she expected to room with her had not returned to college. I know Elizabeth was very much disappointed, but she made me feel at once that she was pleased with the arrangement made for her, and she was as sweet as could be to me. She is one of the most tactful and unselfish persons I ever met. She is from Virginia, and speaks with a southern accent. She has no mother. Do you think that is why she likes so much to hear about my own? She says she has a very clear impression of you already, and almost loves you. I never got acquainted with any one so quickly before. She understands exactly what you mean and how you feel, and you don't have to explain things.
Every girl has to take an hour's exercise a day. You can walk or you are allowed to row in the wide flat-bottomed boats, if you can prove to the authorities that one is not strong enough to capsize them.
We have not had regular recitations yet, but our lessons are all assigned for to-morrow. I had no idea I should dread it as I do. All the girls I have met have such a superior, learned air—not at all like the high-school girls. I have a perfect horror of being considered stupid.
Elizabeth and I are going for a row at 3 o'clock this afternoon. She has a great many friends who are always coming to see her and making plans that include her, but she told me this morning that she wanted me to go out with her this afternoon—"just we two alone," she said, "for a nice long time together."
I don't know what I should do without her. Last evening I felt so lonely and homesick. I was thinking of you and papa and the baby, and how long it would be before I should see my beloved ones again. Elizabeth found me in our bedroom on the bed, and she was just splendid. She didn't try to jolly me up, but instead she was very serious, and talked with me about my home. She put her arm about me and said, "Alice, your kind of homesickness is a blessed thing. One may be homesick because one has no home to be homesick for." I wondered if she meant herself, but I didn't say anything, for fear of making her feel badly. But I thought how very selfish I was to be accepting her sympathy when perhaps she needed sympathy more than I did.
Please give my dearest love to papa, and ask baby not to forget "Lala."
I am sure I am going to be very happy here, dear mother, although the homesick feeling takes possession of me every once in a while. It seems already as if I had not seen you for half a year.
You must have been very tired after I left home, you had worked so hard helping me get ready. I find I have everything I need, and my clothes look beautifully. I can never thank you enough for all you have done for me, and are doing for me. I know you will say that the best thanks I can offer is to make the most of my opportunities, and I shall try not to disappoint you.
Your affectionate daughter,Mabel.
B——, September 23, 19—.
Dear Mabel:—
Your long, interesting letter was duly received. We are very glad to have a clear idea of your new life, and to know that everything opens up so pleasantly. Elizabeth seems to be a very lovely girl, of fine sensibility and womanly character, and I hope sometime we may all know her. She is evidently trying to make your first few days of college life happy ones, and in order to reciprocate her unselfish thought for you, you must have your eyes open to see her needs and wishes. I have regretted that you had no sister of your own age to share your room with you at home, for experience teaches one many lessons in the art of being an ideal room-mate—for it is an art. Perfect breeding, delicacy of perception that will keep one from ever being intrusive, adaptability in little things, orderly habits, responsiveness, sympathy, unselfishness, loyalty, are the qualities to be cultivated by one who desires to be at all times an entirely agreeable room-mate, and these you have, my child, all in more or less degree, I believe: but you are apt to be thoughtless, and you will need to exercise care and self-control. I believe that the friendships you form at college with your classmates and teachers are as important as the studies you are pursuing. This does not imply that you should ever neglect your lessons for social enjoyment. I am sure you have too much good sense to draw such a conclusion.
Your father and I are very anxious that you should derive much culture and good mental training from your college course. As far as you can command your own motives, study for the knowledge and the discipline to be derived, rather than for marks or class standing. The higher one's aim, the more permanent will be the result.
It is hard to become used to your being away, my precious child. The house is lonely without you. But it is for your good, and I am so thankful that we can give you this opportunity that I do not grumble. It is a comfort to us to be able to remember that you have always been a good daughter. We love to recall your pleasant ways, and the many proofs of your earnest purpose to do right.
Write to us freely, and tell us of your successes and your difficulties, for we shall want to know all that concerns you.
Gertrude has been to the house to inquire what we have heard from you. She will be delighted to have you write to her. You must not forget your old friends in making new ones. Aunt Mary, also, will appreciate a nice letter from you.
The baby wanted to write "Bebel," so I gave her paper and pencil, and she insists upon my enclosing her scrawl. Good-bye, my darling. God bless you. Father says: "Tell Mabel I love her."
Your affectionateMother.
H——, December 20, 19—.
Dear Father:—
I can never thank you enough for your kind, indulgent letter. I am deeply sorry to have occasioned you so much anxiety, and am most grateful to you for your timely aid. Believe me, in the future I will endeavor to give you no further cause for complaint, and I only regret that I should have allowed myself to be led into such thoughtless extravagance. You may depend upon my following your advice, and proving myself worthy of your generous kindness.
I am, dear father,Your affectionate son,Harry.
E——, April 25, 19—.
My Darling Edith:—
I have planned that this letter should reach you on the morning of the 27th, which is your sixteenth birthday. Your father, brothers and sisters desire me to speak for them, and to say how sincerely we send you a thousand good wishes on this happy day. If only you could have been at home with us, that we might have had one of those old-time festivals! But, dear daughter, the path of duty demands many sacrifices of us all. You are where it is best for you to be, fitting yourself for the serious but delightful duties that must sooner or later demand your attention.
A little box, which I hope has reached you safely, contains some trifling tokens of affection from each one of us, which I know you will appreciate to the full. The box also contains the materials for a pleasant little entertainment, which, I have no doubt, Mrs. Dash will allow you to give to your school-fellows, as I have written to beg a half holiday for the occasion.
God bless you, my dear Edith, and may every succeeding year find you increasing in all that is wise, in understanding and in beauty of character, is the earnest prayer of
Your affectionateMother.
C——, April 15, 19—.
Dear Father:—
I feel that you will be disappointed at what I am about to say, but, after due consideration, hope you will not think I am altogether wrong in frankly stating my dislike for office work. I have now been here nearly six months, and find this employment as little to my taste as when I first began. Have tried my best to form a liking for the work, but am quite sure I shall never get on in this kind of occupation.
Should be very glad to talk the matter over with you; it is not that I am afraid of work; am sure, however, that I shall never make a success in a business which has no attraction for me.
I have given it a fair trial, and have put off writing to you on the subject as long as possible; but as there is no chance of my changing my mind, further delay would be useless. I shall hope to hear from you in a day or two, dear father, and with love to all,
Believe me,Youraffectionate son,Harry.
C——, April 13, 19—.
My Dear Papa:—
I hope to see you soon, you have been away a very long time; when are you coming back again? I have tried to be a good boy, and Miss Meriam says I have been most attentive at my lessons. Dear mamma will send this little letter with hers. I love you with all my heart.
Your affectionate little son,Freddy.
C——, August 5, 19—.
Dear Grandpa:—
I hope you are enjoying good health, as usual. I wish you many happy returns of your birthday, and I send you a little paper knife which I bought with my own money, and I hope you will like it and use it; it cuts beautifully. Carrie is going to send you a present also, but I must not tell you what it is to be; she made it herself.
I am, dear grandpa, with much love,
Your affectionate grandson,Fred Selden.
C——, May 4, 19—.
Dear Uncle George:—
I can never thank you enough for the beautiful watch you sent me on my birthday. Mamma says I may wear it, but I must not wind it up until I am older, and she is going to do it every day herself for me. I have learnt to tell the time by it; it is now a quarter past three, and we are going out for a walk in the park; so good-bye, dear Uncle George.
We all send you our best love.
Your affectionate nephew,Fred Selden.
R——, May 31, 19—.
Dear Daisy:—
School closes on Thursday week. I hope my rabbits are well, and my pony also. How is the garden looking? I will help you all I can in it when I come home. We are going to have a baseball match with the high-school boys, this afternoon; so good-bye. Give my love to all. I hope mamma got my letter.
Your affectionate brother,Eddie.
W——, October 19, 19—.
Dear Mamma:—
Am so sorry that Miss Peabody has had to complain of me, but I do try to learn my very difficult lessons, and when I cannot do so I cry until my head aches. Dear mamma, I wish you would allow me to put German aside until next term, and then perhaps I should get on better with my French lessons.
Please give my love to dear papa, and tell him I would not make him unhappy if I could help it, but I have so much to learn every day, and all the girls in my class are older than I am, and have been much longer at school.
With lots of kisses for you, papa and puss,
Your very affectionate daughter,Maggie.
F——, June 11, 19—.
Darling Mother:—
We all miss you very, very much indeed, and hope to hear in your next letter that grandma is almost well, and that you will be able to come home in a day or two. Papa is writing to you by this post. I am going out for a ride with him presently. Nurse says the children are very good and happy. Lulu cried a little last night because she could not say good-night to you, but she soon went to sleep while nurse told her a pretty story about a good little girl who did everything her papa and mamma wished. Good-bye, dear darling mother.
Your loving daughter,Kittie.
O——, August 15, 19—.
Dearest Mamma:—
Cousin Flora is writing to you, but I thought you would also like a little letter from me. I am enjoying myself very much, every one is so kind, but I must tell you all I have seen when I come home. I am longing to see you, dear mamma, and with best love to you and dear papa, I remain,
Your affectionate daughter,Sarah.
P——, November 10, 19—.
My Dear Grandma:—
It was so delightfully kind of you to send me such a beautiful doll! Mamma has given me a cradle to put it in at night, and I mean to take it out walking with me every day. Dear mamma says the next time she comes to see you she will bring me with her; I hope it will be soon; don't you?
With best love, dear grandma, believe me, as ever,
Your affectionate granddaughter,Hattie.
B——, October 10, 19—.
Dear Charlie:—
You can't imagine how much I miss you. I have no one to play with me now. How do you like being at school? are the lessons very difficult? are there any nice boys like you? Do tell me all about it; what you have for dinner, what hour you go to bed, and what games you play at, and how long you are allowed to play.
Papa and mamma send their best love.
Your affectionate sister,Lulu.
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D——, November 12, 19—.
My Dear Alfred:—
I was delighted to hear such an excellent account of you all from Alice; although it is some time since I have been to your house, still I must always feel deeply interested in all that concerns you and yours.
Perhaps I was too hasty in concluding that the advice I offered would offend you: I know, it is generally considered that a mother-in-law's interference is never welcome, however reasonable may be her remarks; but, believe me, dear Alfred, what I said was meant in good faith, and I had no intention of censuring or criticising any arrangement of yours. I should have expressed the same opinion to any friend of mine under similar circumstances had I been consulted. The fact of your being my son-in-law induced me to imagine that I might speak frankly to you without fear of giving offence; indeed, I regard you as a son, and you must not be too quick to resent words my motherly affection prompts me to say.
With kindest love to Alice, yourself and my dear little grandchildren,
Believe me,Yours affectionately,Emily Shaw.
P——, December 30, 19—.
My Dear Maud:—
I have to tell you how much I enjoyed my little visit last week, the first I have paid to your pretty new home, and I trust many years of happiness are in store for you and my dearson. He tells me that he has in you the most considerate and affectionate of wives: I sincerely rejoice that it is so. I have seen so many unhappy marriages, rendered such through thoughtlessness and extravagance on the part of the wife, that nothing pleases me more than to think my boy is so fortunate in his choice. His limited means call for the most careful domestic management, and not a little self-denial, and it is so easy when first commencing housekeeping to run into more expense than one's income justifies; but this error I am sure you will carefully guard against, always remembering what strict supervision is required in the smallest domestic details.
I have learned this from experience, dear Maud, which I have found to be the best, if not the most pleasant, of teachers.
With kindest love to yourself and my son,
Believe me,Yours affectionately,Malvina Wright.
C——, August 20, 19—.
Dear Mrs. Park:—
Edward and I are most anxious to know if you have returned home yet, and how you have enjoyed your stay in the mountains. We received your last letter dated July 31st, and have been a little surprised at not hearing from you oftener.
I hardly know where to write to you, but suppose this letter will follow you at the Summit House. Edward is pretty well, and is looking forward to his vacation, which has been postponed this year on account of extra work in the office, but we do not regret this, as we have had such very stormy weather the last three weeks.
The children unite with me and Edward in love to dear grandmamma.
Believe me, as ever,Yours affectionately,Lilian Dwight.
E——, February 10, 19—.
Dear Mr. Winthrop:—
We have been delighted to learn from your last letter that you have been quite well in spite of the severe weather we have lately experienced, and that you are in such good spirits. How wise not to let the small worries of life depress you. I wish I had a little of your philosophy; as it is, I take things too much to heart, and am inclined to allow trifles to vex me. You set us all such a good example by your unvaried cheerfulness.
I suppose you were very much interested in Tuesday's meeting, as you are such a keen judge of politics; but will not express my opinion of it, gathered second-hand from my husband, in case it should run counter to yours. This you may call cowardice on my part, but it is really discretion.
With kindest love from Ned, also myself, believe me, dear Mr. Winthrop,
Your affectionateHilda Winthrop.
C——, August 10, 19—.
My Dear Julius:—
As you doubtless know, from long personal experience, my husband is a very bad correspondent, and has, I have discovered, allowed your last kind letter to remain unanswered for nearly a month; so I will try and take his place as far as possible, and ask you to accept me as his substitute. Your news was most interesting to us both. You seem to have had a very pleasant holiday; we quite envied you, and I very much wish Horace could have gone along, if only for a week; but he is so hard worked that there seems no chance of his having even a day's holiday until the end of the season. He is, however, am happy to say, quite well. I suppose you will be back about the end of the month; if myadvice is worth having, I should say do not make the long and fatiguing return journey too quickly, but take a fair amount of rest on the way; it is a great mistake to travel night and day after weeks of complete repose and quiet, and is calculated to destroy most of the benefit derived from change of climate and surroundings.
With kindest love,
Believe me, dear Julius,Your affectionate sister,Eva Dillingham.
N——, June 14, 19—.
Dear Polly:—
You have doubtless asked yourself why I did not write to you lately; the fact is, I have been rather out of spirits, besides being very much occupied.
Am beginning to discover there is little chance of promotion where I am now employed, and that it is almost time to look around for something better. Do you think your husband might take any active interest in me, and would you dislike speaking to him on the subject? I do not exactly know the extent of his influence, or indeed if he possesses any, but I thought from the responsible position he holds with Lombard Bros. & Co., he might perhaps know of some opening that would suit me. I have never as yet spoken to him about my own affairs, and if, on your part, you feel any reluctance in mentioning the subject, pray do not hesitate to tell me so.
Jack seems very happy at school, but is looking forward to spending his holidays with you.
I suppose Mabel's marriage will take place in the autumn, from what she says.
With kind love, believe me,Your affectionate brother,Ernest Rand.
The Misses Sterling's School for Young Ladies,
S——, May 18, 19—.
My Dear Edward:—
I have an important favor to ask, which I trust you will grant, if it can be done without any real inconvenience.
I have just received a very pressing invitation to go with Mrs. Hubbard and her daughters to London and Paris; afterward to make a tour with them in Switzerland. This would be quite a new experience for me, as I have never yet been abroad. I could not, of course, promise to join them until I had consulted with you about it, dear Ned, and ask you whether you would make me a small advance to meet the necessary expenses of the journey, and to purchase the few things I should require before starting.
Would you think $300 too much to spare at the present time? I have a little money left, but not enough to justify my accepting this invitation without some little help. You have always been so kind and considerate toward us all, younger children, that I know you will gladly give me this pleasure if it lies in your power to do so. It seems a long time since I have seen you, or even heard from you, but I know how many your engagements are, and that a letter from one so busy is hardly to be expected, unless there is something especially interesting to be communicated.
With kindest love, believe me, dear Edward,
Your affectionate sister,Pauline.
A——, July 15, 19—.
Dear Aunt Selma:—
I do earnestly hope you and Uncle Phillip have not thought me neglectful in not writing to you before this, but beyond asking after you both and hoping you are quite well, I felt I had nothingto write about. I lead, as you know, such a quiet life, and the days so resemble each other, that I can hardly distinguish them apart. I ought perhaps to be glad of this, as family news when it has to be told is seldom a matter of rejoicing; quite the contrary, it generally forebodes trouble and sorrow—at least I have found it so.
The east winds have been very trying to my mother lately, but I am happy to say she is fairly well and able to go out every day. She sends her love to you, and hopes to have the pleasure of seeing you and my dear uncle before long.
How is your work society getting on? I suppose your Sunday-school picnic will take place next month, as usual. I can imagine how busy Uncle Phillip must be just now in his garden. Are the bees thriving? and how do the new glass hives answer? Has he been making any fresh experiments?
Please give him my best love, and with much to yourself,
Believe me, dear aunt,Your affectionate niece,Sophia Moore.
F——, December 21, 19—.
Dear Cousin Jane:—
I wish you and dear Aunt Mary a merry Christmas, and many New Years in the happy future.
It is a long time since we have met; circumstances do not bring us together—quite the contrary; and were it not for the annually returning Christmastide, I fear we should almost drop out of each other's recollection. I am therefore glad of the opportunity of inquiring after you and Aunt Mary, and trust that you are both pretty well. I fear she is rather dreading the severe weather which is prophesied to be in store for us, but prophecies are not always fulfilled, and, in any case, I hope she will not have a return of her old complaint, rheumatism.
With kindest love and best wishes,Your affectionate cousin,Eunice Cary.
D——, March 10, 19—.
Dear Mr. Wilson:—
With great reluctance I come to ask you to make me a further allowance, but the fact is, I find it impossible to meet the necessary expenses that I am compelled to incur, on the sum at present allowed to me. And as I know how much you disapprove of my getting into debt, I thought it best to write to you frankly on the subject, and ask to see what you could do for me. I should be perfectly satisfied with an additional $500 per annum, and trust you will not think this request unreasonable.
I beg to remain,Very truly yours,Reginald Roberts.
C——, March 15, 19—.
Dear Reginald:—
I dislike extremely to refuse a request of yours, but were I to comply with the last one, just received, I should only encourage you in extravagance. Your poor father considered the sum at present allowed you amply sufficient for your wants, and I do not feel justified in acting contrary to his expressed wishes. However, I have no objection to making you a present of $100 to meet any pressing claim, but must again warn you that it is imperative you should restrict expenses within the limits of your allowance, and this can readily be done by giving a little more attention to details, and by being less thoughtless in your every-day expenditure.
I am, dear Reginald,Your sincere friend,Frederick Wilson.
B——, June 8, 19—.
Madam:—
Mrs. Alfred D. Campbell informed me, this morning, that you were in want of a governess for your two little girls, and she recommended me to apply for the situation at once, thinking that I might perhaps suit you. My experience in teaching has been gained at home; for the last two years I have undertaken the sole tuition of my younger sisters. I may say that I have been well educated, and am quite capable of instructing young ladies up to the age of fourteen. Mrs. Campbell has known my family for many years, and authorizes me to say that, should you wish her to write respecting my qualifications and fitness for the post of governess in your house, she will be happy to do so.
Hoping to hear favorably in reference to the matter,
I remain,Yours very respectfully,Gertrude Leland.
B——, June 28, 19—.
Dear Mrs. Campbell:—
You had the kindness of mentioning to Miss Leland that I was on the lookout for a governess for my little girls. I understand, from a letter I just received from this young lady, that she has not hitherto filled a similar situation, but this I should not consider a drawback if her qualifications were satisfactory. Would you say she was thoroughly well educated? Can she teach French and German to beginners, and has she a good knowledge of music? Is she both amiable and conscientious? She says you have known her family for some years,so no doubt will be able to satisfy me on all these points. As regards the question of salary, I propose giving my governess $500 a year. Will you kindly mention this to her, and if your answer is such as I expect, I shall have no hesitation in engaging her at once. I have had a great many applications for this situation, but I think it such an advantage to obtain a governess personally recommended by a friend; therefore I am so much obliged to you for advising Miss Leland to write to me.
With kind remembrances to you and Mr. Campbell, believe me, as ever,
Very truly yours,Marcella Tyler Porter.
L——, June 12, 19—.
Dear Mrs.Porter:—
I am happy to be able to speak in the highest terms of Miss Leland, both as regards her capabilities and moral training; she has been carefully brought up and well educated; is amiable and high principled. She speaks German and French fluently, and her knowledge of music is above the average; she has acquired some experience in teaching, through having instructed her younger sisters. I may add, from what I know of Miss Leland you need have no hesitation in engaging her.
Believe me,Very truly yours,Delia Story Campbell.
W——, May 4, 19—.
Edward Worthington, Esq.,N——.
Sir:—
Replying to your advertisement for a "Companion and Chaperon to a young lady," I take the liberty of offering myself for the situation.
My late husband was a captain in the U. S. army; I am 35 years of age, and have been a widow three years. I am a good linguist, and can speak French and German fluently; so thatshould your daughter wish to continue her studies or travel abroad, my knowledge of languages might be of use to her. I am considered a clever musician, and have had a good musical education. The salary mentioned in your advertisement would be quite satisfactory to me, and I should consider myself most fortunate were my qualifications to meet with your approval.
With regard to references, Mrs. Black, wife of the Rev. Phillips Black, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, this city, and Mrs. Bruce, 1750 M—— Avenue, N——, would be very glad to answer any questions respecting me. Awaiting your answer,
Believe me,Yours respectfully,Honoria De Witt.
S——, July 19, 19—.
Miss Selma White,City.
Madam:—
Answering your advertisement in the "Item" of Saturday the 7th inst, I beg to offer my services as "Useful Companion to an Elderly Lady." Should not be afraid to undertake the care of an invalid, and to have the management of household affairs, as, in both these particulars, I have had no little experience in my own family. Am 36 years of age, and the daughter of a physician. Owing to circumstances with which I need not trouble you at the present moment, am anxious to obtain a situation of this nature.
I have been accustomed to read aloud and to write letters from dictation, and to entertain elderly people.
Perhaps it is premature to mention references in this letter, but may say that I could thoroughly satisfy you on this point by giving you the names of several ladies of high standing, in this city, who have kindly promised to recommend me.
Hoping to hear from you favorably,
I am, Madam,Yours respectfully,Eva B. Clark.
C——, December 12, 19—.
Sylvester Cary, Esq.
Answering your advertisement in this morning's "Tribune" for a housekeeper, I beg to offer my services in that capacity.
Am 35 years of age, and my experience has been gained through having had the entire control of my uncle's house for seven years. The whole of the domestic arrangements were in my hands—the engaging and dismissing of servants, giving all orders, and keeping the household accounts. I also superintended the education of the two younger children, attended to their wardrobes, and had the entire charge of them.
Can offer two unexceptionable references, besides a personal one from the uncle mentioned above, Mr. Frank Robinson, 310 Masonic Temple, city.
Have no doubt that you will receive many applications for the situation vacant in your establishment; still, I hope that this offer of my services may meet with your favorable consideration.
Respectfully,(Miss) Miranda Taylor.