A letter may, from a business point of view, make or mar the fortunes of its sender, while none the less surely, from a social standard, will our epistles approve or condemn our claim for consideration. Every position in life, and every occasion which may arise therein, demand more or less exercise of our epistolary powers, and while but few can hope for the grace, the wit, the repartee that sparkle in the missives of a de Staël, a Récamier, a Walpole, a Macaulay, every one can and should learn to write a clear, concise, intelligent, appropriate letter.
A Rare Accomplishment.
To do this properly is a social accomplishment, and one of the greatest boons that education confers. A graceful note, a kindly, sparkling letter, are each the exponent of a true lady or gentleman, though it must be confessed, since our country furnishes no so-called "leisure class," the art of letter-writing has, in great measure, fallen into feminine hands, the cares of business and professional life ofttimes preventing the sterner half of creation from mere friendly exercise of the pen. It is among women, therefore, that we will find in the present, as we have found in the past, the best and most fluent of correspondents.
A certain dread of letter-writing, however, seems to haunt a large class of people. This dread, arising either from imperfect education, a lack of practice or a fear of "nothing to say," can be overcome in great measure by careful study of the few main requisites of the art, as embraced in style, orthography, forms to be adopted and stationery to be used for certain occasions.
The Style,
of course, is a subtle something inherent in each individual, not to be entirely done away with in any case, but to be improved by a careful study of good models, such, for example, as the letters of the above mentioned authors. To read the best prose writers also cannot fail to work an improvement. For instance, the writer once, after an enthusiastic study of Taine, was rewarded by the assurance from a literary correspondent that her letters were thoroughly "Tainesque" in style.
By judicious reading and carefully taking thought, an abrupt style may be softened and more graceful, flowing sentences substituted for its short, sharp phrases; while a redundant style, by the same care, may be pruned of its exuberance.
The chief charm of a letter consists in it being written naturally and as one would talk. "We should write as we speak, and that's a true familiar letter which expresseth a man's mind as if he were discoursing with the party to whom he writes," says Howell, and, ancient as the words are, no better advice can be given to-day.
Write easily, and never simply for effect; this gives a constrained, stilted style that will soon cool the correspondence. Let your thoughts flow as they would were you conversing with your friend, but do not gossip; give friendly intelligence only when certain of its truth. This will not seem too much when it is remembered how written words sometimes rise up in judgment against their authors when the spoken words would long since have been forgotten. A lapse of time will brush the bloom from our sentences and nothing can bring back again the tender grace that transfigured the over-sweetness of some little written sentiment, or redeem it from the realm of the bombastic in our eyes to-day. Then "let your communications be, not exactly 'yea and nay,' but do let them be such that you would not fear to hear them read aloud before you, for more than this 'cometh of evil.'"
