As I read these old letters, written to me and to Harry during the past twenty years, I found myself laying aside first this one, and then that one, because they seemed amusing, or very kind, or especially indicative of the character of the writer. When the afternoon was over, my heap of letters had grown, and I had determined to make them into a parcel again and give them to whoever cared to read them as “A Bundle of Old Letters”.
Listen to this one: I do not know why it was written, or when, except that it is headed “February 1st”—but it takes me back to the days of “The Gent., the Genius, and the Young Greek God”—the days when Harry Esmond, Charles Hallard, and Gerald du Maurier went holiday-making together:
My Dear Harry,
Expressing one’s thoughts in any way is a form of conceit, surely, isn’t it? If you speak them, or write them, you expect others to listen—therefore you must consider what you think of importance. Authors must all be of a conceit that is abnormal, and preachers, and—Good God—Poets!
Some people would rather not listen to the commonplace thoughts of others—for these there should just be a “news sheet”, giving generally what is taking place, with no garnishings and comments and “what we think”, etc.—for silent men like “Tug” Wilson, engineers, scientists, and equilibrists. Nowadays (do you agree with me?) too much expression is given to “feelings”, and little feeble feelings at that. There is no loud roar of a lion, no sweet song of a nightingale, and no great hush either—it is all sparrows, and a banging door. Everything is “tuppence”. You never read: “Death of A——”; it is always “Tragic Death”, “Splendid Death”, “Comic Death”; why not “Death”?
Love to you all.
Gerald.
Here is a letter dated “June 30th, 1898”; it is headed New York, and begins:
My Dear Esmond,
I accept your play. I suppose even a manager may give way to his feelings sometimes, and I am going to do it now. I cannot express to you sufficiently how much I like the play. If it meets with the same impressions on an audience as it has with me, we will both have a fine thing. However, independent of all that, in these times when a manager is compelled, regretfully, to refuse so many plays, it is a gratification to be able to say “I will accept and am glad of it”.