LETTER-WRITING

Dominion, Volume 28, Issue 286, 30 August 1935, Page 5

LETTER-WRITING

A Change of Style T-TOW we have changed, we English. In little does this show as much as in our-letters. A hundred years ago we were verbose, long-winded, and woolly in our writings where now we are terse and exact. It is a change for the better, and no one can regret that we now say what we mean and then stop.

A hundred years ago life was more ornate, no doubt, and when they wrote letters they had to devise an elegant introduction and an elaborate ending equal in length and formality to the Spanish ending, which still delights those who receive business letters from Spain ending “I remain, your Honour’s very attentive and sure servant, who kisses your hand.” A hundred years ago a nephew wrote to his aunt and ended thus: “Believe me to remain, my dear Madam, with deepest respect, your faithful servant.” Gradually we shed all that, although there may still be many who were taught at school to end dutiful letters to aunts and uncles something like this: “I remain, my dear aunt (or uncle), your affectionate nephew (or niece), James (or Jemima) Osbaldis-tone-Jones.” The name had to be written in full. Now the ending is, “Love. Jim.”

Now, writes E. W., in the “Manchester Guardian,” it is said that t.he art of letter-writing is dead, and it is true we write seldom.

There are sometimes letters to be written to those kinsfolk and friends who have gone overseas, and seven out of ten of these letters begin, ‘‘lt is a long time since we wrote.” The remaining three begin, “It is ages since we heard from you.” Our overseas correspondence is not like that of the young lady of GO years ago who wrote from Singapore: “The very rare occurrence of the arrival of the English mail enclosing me no letter from you has taken place, but I am not apprehensive.” This letter was written to an undergraduate brother, and he must have been a kind lad, for the postage to Singapore was then a shilling, and the mails went once a fortnight. Now our letters cost next tq nothing and go once a year. Or we send a line or two by Air Mail, which certainly costs more, but does instead of a Christmas card.

Perhaps we are not so tender-hearted as they were a hundred or even sixty years ago. We know people like receiving letters, especially if they are far away. Can it be that we do not like our modern style of writing? It is certainly true that the less we write the harder it is. There is nothing to say. It is futile to hope they are well, or to tell them of births, marrltiges, and deaths that they have seen in the papers three weeks before our letter will arrive. Do they care that our garden is looking splendid, or that the blackbirds have eaten the strawberries, or that the vicar is away and we have an imbecile in his place? Jane came to see us, in her new car and splendid raiment. Mary’s children have measles. One of ours has won a cup at some sport and another has failed in an exam. It does not sound exciting enough to sit down and commit to paper. So we do not write by this mail.