The Gentleman's Model Letter-writer. Anonymous

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СКАЧАТЬ April 15th, 187-

      Dearest Julia,

      I can scarcely compose myself to write, for this very morning, at mid-day parade, a telegram was received by our commanding officer directing the regiment to hold itself under orders for immediate foreign service; so that of course I shall be prevented seeing you before our departure, as all leave is stopped for officers as well as for the non-commissioned officers and men. Where our future destination may be no one can at present conjecture, but we think it may be Canada. How blighted now are our hopes! where all seemed bright and joyous, nothing is left but separation and blank despair. Julia, you love me; you are mine, are you not, dear Julia? Although separated for a time, we shall love each other faithfully; no doubts must arise, no feelings of suspicion or fear between us; but firm in the knowledge that we are devotedly attached to each other, and that nothing can change the ardent feelings we entertain, we must wait and hope. I trust in a few short years, my darling Julia, to call you mine. Your Ronald will be true to his promise and his love, and in faith that his Julia will bear up bravely, as a soldier's destined wife should do, he obeys his country's call in anguish but not in despair. Accept the little present I send you (forwarded by registered letter by this evening's post), and with most affectionate and enduring love,

      Believe me,

      My dearest Julia,

      Your ever devoted,

      Ronald Dugan.

      From a Gentleman to a Young Lady.

      Snow Hill, January 1st, 187-

      Dear Rosy,

      On returning from skating yesterday afternoon, and reflecting alone on the pleasant morning we had passed, I was more than ever impressed with my wretched solitary existence. Will you break for me this monotonous routine of life by saying, "It need not be, Charlie."

      I have loved you fondly and long; your parents and mine are intimate friends; they know my private character. Will you accept me as your husband, dearest Rosy?

      Believe me,

      Your ever fondly attached,

      Charlie Byers.

      From a Husband to his Wife, on sailing from England.

      H.M.S. Psyche, June 8th.

      My dearest Wife,

      I take the opportunity of the pilot's return to send you a hurried and last farewell. Oh, my dearest, what but duty could reconcile me to leaving you? What but the certainty that we are both protected by our Heavenly Father could support me through the weary days and nights which I am destined to spend far from you? Ah! the waves that are now washing the sides of our vessel will soon cease to beat upon that shore where my wife, where my friends are all thinking of me.

      Farewell my dearest wife; be assured I am in good health and tolerable spirits.

      Comfort yourself, my dearest! we shall all meet soon and happily again. I have not time to write to my mother, but pray tell her she is always in my thoughts. God bless you, dearest!—my heart is full of you.

      Ever your devoted husband,

      H. P.

      From a Husband absent on Business to his Wife.

      The Fens, Lincolnshire, June 1st, 187-

      Dearest Isabella,

      This is the first time, my darling, we have ever experienced the bitterness and misery of separation, and the few days I have already been absent from you appear like years. What my state of mind will be at the expiration of another two or three weeks I will let your little affectionate heart conjecture. But I must not be selfish, my dearest Isa. You share my trial, but do not be down-hearted, the time will soon pass away. You must go out and visit the nice friends near you. Your dear kind mother also is within an easy walk, I am glad to think.

      Roger Hughes is going to stay with his family for some little while; I do not care much about him (you remember we met him at——). He is certain to call upon you, but it will be just as well not to be at home to him always. Hoping to return in a fortnight, I remain, with very best love to your mother and yourself,

      Your ever affectionate husband,

      Josiah Webb.

      From a Father to his Son beginning the World.

      Hampstead, May 6th, 187-

      My dearest Son,

      Separated as you will shortly be from your childhood's home—for many years, perhaps—and not having your poor old father to consult and obtain advice from, when any difficulties may arise, you will naturally be inclined to appeal to those among your acquaintances whom you may consider from intimate association as entitled to the name of friends.

      Now this is a matter in which you must observe the very greatest caution and discrimination; a mistake made in selecting a friend and acting up to his advice, is a fatal one, and no one can for a moment form an idea of the consequences which may arise from it. In the first place, do not seek the friendship of the "fast young man" whose sole thought is to gratify himself in the enjoyment of this world's pleasures, without any regard to the misery or disgrace his conduct may be entailing on a happy, innocent family. Make friends of those who, by their actions, have raised themselves in the estimation of their superiors, and are regarded with eyes of jealous admiration by their equals. Remember the old proverb, "Tell who are your friends, and I will tell you what you are."

      I hope, dear boy, your own good sense will lead you to avoid bad companions. Should you ever (which I trust may never be the case) be tempted to do anything contrary to the laws of honour or of duty, question yourself thus: "Should I do this in my father's house? should I act thus in my mother's presence?" The answer will be the best talisman to keep you from falling in your combat with the world.

      We have great hopes in you, my dear son. Never omit to write to your dear mother and myself, when you possibly can; and with our best and fondest love,

      Believe me,

      Ever your affectionate father, ______

      From a Son who has misconducted himself towards his Employer, to his Father.

      Eastcheap, November 18th, 187-

      Dear Father,

      I am in such distress I scarcely know how to commence my letter. Without the least reason, without the least provocation, I left my master at the most busy season, just for a temporary, trifling amusement. He—the best of masters—for the moment was forgotten by me: self predominated. I ran away from my service, and here I find myself disgraced and miserable, and grieve to think how indescribably shocked you will be when Mr. Evans communicates with you relative to my absence. However, dear father, there is one consolation: I cannot be accused of dishonesty; so I hope my character is not irretrievably ruined. Will you see my master, and tell him how deeply I regret my fault, and entreat him to forgive me? It shall hereafter be my constant study to perform my duty in the most upright manner, and with the most assiduous attention. Let me hear also, dear father, in sending me Mr. Evans's reply, that you also forgive

      Your erring, but heartbroken son,

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