"Arabella did not cure herself of this fault; but when she grew up, and became an auth.o.r.ess, she never marked her quotations."

If your letter is longer than can be comprised in one sheet, number the pages, placing the number near the upper corner. If engaged in a regular correspondence on business or other things, or in writing from a foreign country to your family at home, number not only the pages, but the letter itself, putting that figure in the centre at the top of the first page. Thus, if your friend, having received No. 10, finds the next letter that comes to hand is No. 12, she will know that No. 11 is missing, and will tell you so in her reply. Keep a memorandum of the letters you have sent, that you may know how to number the next. Before commencing a long letter, it is well to put down on a slip of paper, a list of the subjects you intend to write on.

Unless to persons living in the same house, do not enclose one letter in another. And even then, it is not always safe to do so. Let each letter be transmitted on its own account, by mail, with its own full direction, and its own post-office stamp. We know an instance where the peace of a family was entirely ruined by one of its members suppressing enclosed letters. Confide to no one the delivery of an important letter intended for another person. It is better to trust to the mail, and send a duplicate by the next post.

To break the seal of a letter directed to another person is punishable by law. To read _secretly_ the letter of another is morally as felonious. A woman who would act thus meanly is worse than those who apply their eyes or ears to key-holes, or door-cracks, or who listen under windows, or look down from attics upon their neighbours; or who, in a dusky parlour, before the lamps are lighted, ensconce themselves in a corner, and give no note of their presence while listening to a conversation not intended for them to hear.

We do not conceive that, unless he authorizes her to do so, (which he had best not,) a wife is justifiable in opening her husband's letters, or he in reading hers. Neither wife nor husband has any right to entrust to the other the secrets of their friends; and letters may contain such secrets. Unless under extraordinary circ.u.mstances, parents should not consider themselves privileged to inspect the correspondence of grown-up children. Brothers and sisters always take care that their epistles shall not be unceremoniously opened by each other. In short, a letter is the property of the person to whom it is addressed, and n.o.body has a right to read it without permission.

If you are shown an autograph signature at the bottom of a letter, be satisfied to look at _that only_; and do not open out, and read the whole--unless desired.

Some years ago, in one of our most popular magazines, were several pages containing fac-simile signatures of a number of distinguished literary women--chiefly English. We saw an original letter, from a lady, who complained that some mischievous person had taken _her_ magazine out of the post-office before it reached her, and shamefully _scribbled women's names_ in it, disfiguring it so as to render it unfit for binding; therefore she desired the publisher to send her a clean copy in place of it.

In putting up packets to send away, either tie them round and across, with red tape, (sealing them also where the tape crosses,) or seal them without any tape. If the paper is strong, the wax good, and the contents of the parcel not too heavy, sealing will in most cases be sufficient.

Twine or cord may cut the paper, and therefore is best omitted. Never put up a parcel in newspaper. It looks mean and disrespectful, and will soil the articles inside.

Keep yourself provided with different sorts and sizes of wrapping-paper.

A large packet requires more than one seal; the seals rather larger than for a letter.

Put up newspapers, for transmission, in thin whitish or brownish paper, pasting the cover, and leaving one end open. Newspaper-stamps cost but one cent, and are indispensable to the transmission of the paper.

Avoid giving letters of introduction to people whose acquaintance cannot possibly afford any pleasure or advantage to those whose civilities are desired for them, or who have not leisure to attend to strangers.

Artists, authors, and all other persons to whom "time is money," and whose income stops whenever their hands and eyes are unemployed, are peculiarly annoyed by the frequency of introductory letters, brought by people with whom they can feel no congeniality, and whom they never would have sought for. Among the children of genius, but few are in a situation to entertain strangers _handsomely_, as it is called, which means, _expensively_. Many are kept always in straitened circ.u.mstances, from the incessant demands on their time and attention. And in numerous instances, letters are asked and given with no better motive than the gratification of idle curiosity.

We advise all persons obtaining an introductory letter to a painter, to ascertain, before presenting it, what branch of the art he professes. We have been asked whether a certain artist (one of the most distinguished in London) painted "figures, flowers, or landscapes." Also, no one should presume to request an introduction to an auth.o.r.ess, if they are ignorant whether she writes prose or verse. Not that they are expected to talk to her, immediately, on literary subjects. Far from it; but if they know nothing of her works, they deserve no letter. In America, books, or at least newspapers, are accessible to all who can read.

Bores are peculiarly addicted to asking letters of introduction, in accordance with their system of "bestowing their tediousness" upon as many people as possible. We pity the kind friends from whom these missives are required, and who have not courage to refuse, or address enough to excuse themselves plausibly from complying.

We have known instances of stupid, vulgar persons, on preparing to visit another city, obtaining letters to families of the really highest cla.s.s, and receiving from them the usual civilities, which they knew not how to appreciate.

On the other hand, how pleasant it is, by means of an introductory letter, to bring together two kindred spirits, whose personal intercourse must inevitably produce mutual satisfaction, who are glad to know each other, glad to meet frequently, and grateful to the friend who has made them acquainted.

Letters of introduction should not be sealed. To do so is rude, and mean. If you wish to write on the same day to the same person, take another sheet, write as long an epistle as you please, seal it, and send it _by mail_.

It is best to deliver an introductory letter in person, as the lady or gentleman whose civilities have been requested in your behalf, may thus be spared the trouble of calling at your lodgings, with the risk of not finding you at home. This is very likely to happen, if you _send_ instead of taking it yourself. If you _do_ send it, enclose a card with your residence. Also, it is more respectful to go yourself, than to expect them to come to you.

As soon as you are shown into the parlour, send up the letter, and wait till the receiver comes to you.

When a letter is brought to you by a private hand, the usual ceremony is to defer reading it till the bringer has departed, unless he desires you to read it at once, which he will, if it is evidently a short letter. If a long one, request him to excuse you a moment while you look at the beginning, to see if your correspondent is well.

On farewell cards, it is usual to write with a pencil the letters "t. t.

l.," "to take leave"--or "p. p. c.," "pour prendre conge." A lady complained to us that an acquaintance of hers, about to leave town, had left a card for her with "p. d. a." upon it. Not understanding the meaning of these letters, she had applied to a friend for explanation, who told her they meant "poor dear adieu." "Now," continued she--"I cannot understand why a mere acquaintance should be so familiar as to call me 'poor dear;' why am I a poor dear to her?" We relieved her by explaining that "pour dire adieu" was French for "to bid adieu."

To conclude--let nothing induce you to give a letter of introduction to any person whose moral character is disreputable.

FOOTNOTE:

[14] When the name of the state is short, you may give all the letters that compose it, as Maine--Ohio--Iowa--Texas--Utah.

CHAPTER XIV.

PRESENTS.

Having accepted a present, it is your duty, and ought to be your pleasure, to let the giver see that you make use of it as intended, and that it is not thrown away upon you. If it is an article of dress, or of personal decoration, take occasion, on the first _suitable_ opportunity, to wear it in presence of the giver. If an ornament for the centre-table, or the mantel-piece, place it there. If a book, do not delay reading it. Afterward, speak of it to her as favourably as you can. If of fruit or flowers, refer to them the next time you see her.

In all cases, when a gift is sent to you, return a note of thanks; or at least a verbal message to that effect.

Never enquire of the giver what was the price of her gift, or where she bought it. To do so is considered exceedingly rude.

When an article is presented to you for a specified purpose, it is your duty to use it for _that_ purpose, and for no other, according to the wish of the donor. It is mean and dishonourable to give away a present; at least without first obtaining permission from the original giver. You have no right to be liberal or generous at the expense of another, or to accept a gift with a secret determination to bestow it _yourself_ on somebody else. If it is an article that you do not want, that you possess already, or that you cannot use for yourself, it is best to say so candidly, at once; expressing your thanks for the offer, and requesting your friend to keep it for some other person to whom it will be advantageous. It is fit that the purchaser of the gift should have the pleasure of doing a kindness with her own hand, and eliciting the grat.i.tude of one whom she knows herself. It is paltry in you to deprive her of this pleasure, by first accepting a present, and then secretly giving it away as from yourself.

There are instances of women whose circ.u.mstances did not allow them to indulge often in delicacies, that on a present of early fruit, or some other nice thing being sent to them by a kind friend, have ostentatiously transferred the gift to a wealthy neighbour, with a view of having it supposed that they had bought it themselves, and that to _them_ such things were no rarities. This is contemptible--but it is sometimes done.

Making a valuable present to a rich person is in most cases, a work of supererogation; unless the gift is of something rare or _unique_, which cannot be purchased, and which may be seen and used to more advantage at the house of your friend than while in your own possession. But to give an expensive article of dress, jewellery, or furniture to one whose means of buying such things are quite equal (if not superior) to your own, is an absurdity; though not a very uncommon one, as society is now const.i.tuted. Such gifts elicit no real grat.i.tude, for in all probability, they may not suit the pampered taste of those to whom fine things are no novelties. Or they may be regarded (however unjustly) as baits or nets to catch, in return, something of still greater cost.

There are persons, who, believing that presents are generally made with some mercenary view, and being unwilling themselves to receive favours, or incur obligations, make a point of repaying them as soon as possible, by a gift of something equivalent. This at once implies that they suspect the motive. If sincere in her friendship, the donor of the first present will feel hurt at being directly paid for it, and consider that she has been treated rudely, and unjustly. On the other hand, if compensation _was_ secretly desired, and really expected, she will be disappointed at receiving nothing in return. Therefore, we repeat, that among persons who can conveniently provide themselves with whatever they may desire, the bestowal of presents is generally a most unthankful business. If you are in opulent circ.u.mstances, it is best to limit your generosity to such friends only as do not abound in the gifts of fortune, and whose situation denies them the means of indulging their tastes. By them such acts of kindness will be duly appreciated, and gratefully remembered; and the article presented will have a double value, if it is to them a novelty.

Grat.i.tude is a very pleasant sensation, both for those who feel and to those who excite it. No one who confers a favour can say _with truth_, that "they want no thanks." They always do.

We know not why, when a young lady of fortune is going to be married, her friends should all be expected to present her with bridal gifts. It is a custom that sometimes bears heavily on those whose condition allows them but little to spare. And from that little it may be very hard for them to squeeze out enough to purchase some superfluous ornament, or some bauble for a centre-table, when it is already glittering with the gifts of the opulent;--gifts lavished on one who is really in no need of such things; and whose marriage confers no benefit on any one but herself. Why should she be rewarded for gratifying her own inclination in marrying the man of her choice? Now that it is fashionable to display all the wedding-gifts arranged in due form on tables, and labelled with the names of the donors, the seeming necessity of giving something expensive, or at least elegant, has become more onerous than ever. For instance, poor Miss Ca.s.sin can barely afford a simple brooch that costs about five dollars; but she strains the utmost capacity of her slender purse to buy one at ten dollars, that it may not disgrace the brilliant a.s.semblage of jewellery that glitters on the bridal table of her wealthy friend Miss Denham. And after all, she finds that her modest little trinket looks really contemptible beside the diamond pin given by Mrs.

Farley the millionaire. After all, she sees no one notice it, and hears no one say that it is even neat and pretty. To be sure, the bride, when it was sent with a note on the preceding day, did vouchsafe a polite answer. But then, if poor Miss C. does not make a wedding present to rich Miss D., it might be supposed that Miss C. cannot afford it.

Neither she can. And her making the effort elicits perhaps some satirical remarks, that would be very mortifying to Miss Ca.s.sin if she heard them.

We repeat, that we cannot exactly perceive why, when the union of a couple of lovers, in many cases, adds to the happiness, honour, and glory of the married pair alone, their friends should think it a duty to levy on themselves these contributions; so often inconvenient to the givers, and not much cared for by the receivers.

When the young couple are not abounding in what are called "the goods of this world," the case is altered; and it may then be an act of real kindness for the opulent friends of the bride to present her with any handsome article of dress, or of furniture, that they think will be acceptable. What we contend is, that on a marriage in a wealthy family, the making of presents should be confined to the immediate relatives of the lady, and only to such of _them_ as can well afford it.

Much of the money wasted in making ostentatious gifts to brides whose fathers have already given them a splendid outfit, might be far better employed, in a.s.sisting to purchase the _trousseaus_ and the furniture of deserving young women in humble life, on their marriage with respectable tradesmen or mechanics. How many ladies of fortune have it in their power to do this--yet how seldom it is done!

At christenings, it is fortunately the sponsors only that are expected to make gifts to the infant. Therefore, invite no persons as sponsors, who cannot well afford this expense; unless you are sufficiently intimate to request them, privately, not to comply with the custom; being unwilling that they should cause themselves inconvenience by doing so.

The presentation of Christmas and New-Year's gifts is often a severe tax on persons with whom money is not plenty. It would be well if it were the universal custom to expect and receive no presents from any but the rich.

In making gifts to children, choose for them only such things as will afford them somewhat of lasting amus.e.m.e.nt. For boys, kites, tops, b.a.l.l.s, marbles, wheelbarrows, carts, gardening utensils, and carpenter's tools, &c. Showy toys, that are merely to look at, and from which they can derive no enjoyment but in breaking them to pieces, are not worth buying. Little girls delight in little tea-sets, and dinner-sets, in which they can "make feasts," miniature kitchen-utensils, to play at cooking, washing, &c.; and dolls so dressed that all the clothes can be taken off and put on at pleasure. They soon grow tired of a doll whose glittering habiliments are sewed fast upon her. A wax doll in elegant attire is too precarious and expensive a plaything to make them happy; as they are always afraid of injuring her. We knew a little girl for whom a magnificent wax doll, splendidly dressed, was brought from France; and for an hour she was highly delighted. But next morning she was found still more happy in carrying about her favourite baby, a sofa-pillow, with an old shawl pinned round it for a frock; feeling perfect freedom to toss it about as she pleased. Children like their doll-babies to be very substantial, and rather heavy than light. A large, well-made _rag_-doll is for a small child far better than any other--occasionally putting a clean new face upon it.

We have seen country children perfectly satisfied with a doll that was nothing but a hard ear of Indian corn, arrayed in a coa.r.s.e towel pinned round it. A little farm-house boy, of three years old, made a pet of a large squash, which he dressed in a pocket-handkerchief, and called Phebe Ann. We heard him say, as he pa.s.sed his hand over its lumpy neck, "Poor Phebe Ann! what hives she has!"

To an intelligent child, no gifts are so valuable as entertaining books--provided they really _are_ entertaining. Children are generally wise enough to prefer an amusing book in a plain cover, to a dull one shining with gold. When children are able to read fluently, they lose much of their desire for mere picture-books. If the cuts are badly executed, and give ugly, disagreeable ideas of the characters in the stories, they only trouble and annoy the little readers, instead of pleasing them. Some of the most popular juvenile books have no pictures inside, and no gilding outside. Bad engravings, (beside uselessly enhancing the price,) spoil the taste of the children. We highly recommend to the publishers of juvenile books to omit the cuts entirely, if they cannot afford very good ones. Many children have better judgment in these things than their parents suppose; and some of them more than the parents themselves.

Children have less enjoyment than is supposed in being taken to shops to choose gifts for themselves, or even in laying out their own money. It is always a long time before they can decide on what to buy, and as soon as they have fixed upon one thing, they immediately see something they like better. And often, after getting home, they are dissatisfied with their choice, and sorry they bought it. Also, they frequently wear out the patience of the shopkeepers; being desirous of seeing every thing, and pondering so long before they can determine on buying any thing.

It is every way better to go to the shops without them, buy what you think proper, and then give them an agreeable surprise by the presentation.

Young ladies should be careful how they accept presents from gentlemen.