"To keep one sacred flame," etc.
CHAPTER XV.
"Some, when they write to their friends, are all affection; Some are wise and sententious; some strain their powers for efforts of gaiety; some write news, and some write secrets—but to make a letter without affection, without wisdom, without gaiety, without news, and without a secret, is doubtless the great epistolic art. "-DR. JOHNSON.
AN unusual length of time had elapsed since Mary had heard from Glenfern, and she was beginning to feel some anxiety on account of her friends there, when her apprehensions were dispelled by the arrival of a large packet, containing letters from Mrs. Douglas and Aunt Jacky. The former, although the one that conveyed the greatest degree of pleasure, was perhaps not the one that would be most acceptable to the reader. Indeed, it is generally admitted that the letters of single ladies are infinitely more lively and entertaining than those of married ones—a fact which can neither be denied nor accounted for. The following is a faithful transcript from the original letter in question;—
"GLENFERN CASTLE, —-SHIRE, N.B. Feb. 19th, 18—.
"My DEAR MARY—Yours was received with much pleasure, as it is always a satisfaction to your friends here to know that you are well and doing well. We all take the most sincere interest in your health, and also in your improvements in other respects. But I am sorry to say they do not quite keep pace with our expectations. I must therefore take this opportunity of mentioning to you a fault of yours, which, though a very great _one _in itself, is one that a very slight degree of attention on your part, will, I have no doubt, enable you to get entirely the better of. is fortunate for you, my dear Mary, that you have friends who are always ready to point out your errors to you. For want of that most invaluable blessing, viz. a sincere _friend, _many a one has gone out of the world, no wiser in many respects, than when they came into it. But that, I flatter myself, will not be your case, as you cannot but be sensible of the great pains my sister and I have taken to point out your faults to you from the _hour _of your birth. The one to which I particularly _allude _at present is, the constant omission of proper dates to your letters, by which means we are all of us very often brought into most unpleasant situations. As an instance of it, our worthy minister, Mr M'Drone, happened to be calling here the very day we received your last letter. After hearing it read, he most naturally inquired the date of it; and I cannot tell you how awkward we all felt when we were obliged to confess it had none! And since I am upon that subject, I think it much better to tell you candidly that I do not think your hand of write by any means improved. It does not look as if you bestowed that pains upon it which you undoubtedly ought to do; for without pains, I can assure you, Mary, you will never do any thing well. As our admirable grandmother, good Lady Girnachgowl, used to say, pains makes gains; and so it was seen upon her; for it was entirely owing to her pains that the Girnachgowl estate was relieved, and came to be what it is now, viz. a most valuable and highly productive property.
"I know there are many young people who are very _apt _to think it beneath them to take pains;" but I sincerely trust, my dear Mary, you have more sense than to be so very foolish. Next to a good distinct hand of write, and proper stops (which I observe you never put), the thing most to be attended to is your style, which we all think might be greatly improved by a _little _reflection on your part, joined to a few judicious hints from your friends. We are all of opinion, that your periods are too short, and also that your expressions are deficient in dignity. Neither are you sufficiently circumstantial in your intelligence, even upon subjects of the highest importance. Indeed, upon some subjects, you communicate no information whatever, which is certainly very extraordinary in a young person, who ought to be naturally extremely communicative. Miss M'Pry, who is here upon a visit to us at present, is perfectly astonished at the total want of news in your _letters. _She has a niece residing in the neighbourhood of _Bath, _who sends her regular lists of the company there, and also an account of the most remarkable events that take _place _there. Indeed, had it not been for Patty M'Pry, we never would have heard a syllable of the celebrated _Lady _Travers's elopement with Sir John Conquest; and, indeed, I cannot conceal from you, that we have heard more as to what goes on in Lord Courtland's family through Miss Patty M'Pry, than ever we have heard from you, Mary.
"In short, I must plainly tell you, however painful you may feel it, that not one of us is ever a whit the wiser after reading your letters than we were before. But I am sorry to say this is not the most serious part of the complaint we have to make against you. We are all willing to find excuses for you, even upon these points, but I must confess, your neglecting to return any answers to certain inquiries of your aunts', appears to me perfectly inexcusable. Of course, you must understand that I allude to that letter of your Aunt Grizzy's, dated the 17th of December, wherein she expressed a strong desire that you should endeavour to make yourself mistress of Dr. Redgill's opinion with respect to lumbago, as she is extremely anxious to know whether he considers the seat of the disorder to be in the bones or the sinews; and undoubtedly it is of the greatest consequence to procure the opinion of a sensible well-informed English physician, upon a subject of such vital importance. Your Aunt Nicky, also, in a letter, dated the 22d of December, requested to be informed whether Lord Courtland (like our great landholders) killed his own mutton, as Miss P. M'P. insinuates in a letter to her aunt, that the servants there are suspected of being guilty of great abuses on that score; but there you also preserve a most unbecoming, and I own I think somewhat mysterious silence.
"And now, my dear Mary, having said all that I trust is necessary to recall you to a sense of your duty, I shall now communicate to you a piece of intelligence, which, I am certain, will occasion you the _most _unfeigned pleasure, viz. the prospect there is of your soon beholding some of your friends from this quarter in Bath. Our valuable friend and neighbour, Sir Sampson, has been rather (we think) worse than better since you left us. He is now deprived of the entire use of one leg. He _himself _calls his complaint a morbid rheumatism; but Lady Maclaughlan assures us it is a rheumatic palsy, and she has now formed the resolution of taking him up to Bath early in the ensuing spring. And not only that, but she has most considerately invited your Aunt Grizzy to accompany them, which, of course, she is to do with the greatest pleasure. We are therefore all extremely occupied in getting your aunt's things put in order for such an occasion; and you must accept of that as an apology for none of the girls being at leisure to write you at present, and likewise for the shortness of this letter. But be assured we will all write you fully by Grizzy. Meantime, all unite in kind remembrance to you. And I am, my dear Mary, your most affectionate aunt,