In writing your letter of advice, give your judgement as an opinion, not a law, and say candidly that you will not feel hurt if contrary advice offered by any other, more competent to judge in the case, is taken. While your candor may force you to give the most unpalatable counsel, let your courtesy so express it, that it cannot give offence.
Letters of Excuse are sometimes necessary, and they should be written promptly, as a late apology for an offence is worse than no apology at all. They should be written in a frank, manly style, containing an explanation of the offence, and the facts which led to it, the assurance of the absence of malice or desire to offend, sorrow for the circumstances, and a hope that your apology will be accepted. Never wait until circumstances force an apology from you before writing a letter of excuse. A frank, prompt acknowledgement of an offence, and a candidly expressed desire to atone for it, or for indulgence towards it, cannot fail to conciliate any reasonable person.
Cards of Compliment must always be written in the third person.
Answers. The first requisite in answering a letter upon any subject, is promptness. If you can answer by return of mail, do so; if not, write as soon as possible. If you receive a letter making inquiries about facts which you will require time to ascertain, then write a few lines acknowledging the receipt of the letter of inquiry and promising to send the information as soon as possible.
CHAPTER XVI.
WEDDING ETIQUETTE.
From an English work, “The Habits of Good Society,” I quote some directions for the guidance of the happy man who proposes to enter the state of matrimony. I have altered a few words to suit the difference of country, but when weddings are performed in church, the rules given here are excellent. They will apply equally well to the evening ceremony.
“At a time when our feelings are or ought to be most susceptible, when the happiness or misery of a condition in which there is no medium begins, we are surrounded with forms and etiquettes which rise before the unwary like spectres, and which even the most rigid ceremonialists regard with a sort of dread.
“Were it not, however, for these forms, and for this necessity of being en règle, there might, on the solemnization of marriage, be confusion, forgetfulness, and, even—speak it not aloud—irritation among the parties most intimately concerned. Excitement might ruin all. Without a definite programme, the old maids of the family would be thrusting in advice. The aged chronicler of past events, or grandmother by the fireside, would have it all her way; the venerable bachelor in tights, with his blue coat and metal buttons, might throw every thing into confusion by his suggestions. It is well that we are independent of all these interfering advisers; that there is no necessity to appeal to them. Precedent has arranged it all; we have only to put in or understand what that stern authority has laid down; how it has been varied by modern changes; and we must just shape our course boldly. ‘Boldly?’ But there is much to be done before we come to that. First, there is the offer to be made. Well may a man who contemplates such a step say to himself, with Dryden:
‘These are the realms of everlasting fate;’