The Art Of Letters

Dominion, Volume 31, Issue 156, 29 March 1938, Page 5

The Art Of Letters

No Time Left For An Ancient Vogue

TT is a matter for regret that letterx writing, if not quite a lost art has declined from the vogue it once enjoyed. Mothers and fathers, reading the letters they receive from sons and daughters at college or away on holiday must often contrast them with those they themselves wrote to “dear papa,” or “dearest mamma” when the century was young. Earlier still, of course, letters were often so long as to be,complete narratives. They were written with meticulous care—literary masterpieces, gems of wit and neatly-turned phrase. Hours would be spent in the composition of such an epistle and to the accompaniment of the scratching of a quill-pen, much midnight oil would be burned and sheets of paper crumpled up and thrown away in an effort to produce a literary creation that would warm a cold heart or move a warm one.

Many people seem to take a perverse and altogether unwarranted pride in the fact that they are unable to put their thoughts on paper with any degree of coherence. The blunt truth is that they are too lazy, to sit down and write a respectable letter and yet are the first to complain when they receive a casual, garbled and badly written note from a friend.

I may be old-fashioned or ultra-con-servative, but I do object to receiving a letter in pencil. In the first place •it. is slovenly and in the second, the writing always seems harder to decipher. Frankly, I feel like posting the sender a penny bottle of ink. One of these days I shall probably receive a letter without a stamp, written in pencil, with my name spelt wrongly—the results may well prove fatal.

There is no doubt that the handwriting of many young adults at the present time leaves a great deal to be desired. Some of them have had the advantages of a university education and it may well be that note-taking at innumerable lectures has ruined their writing. There may be something clever, or romantic or distinguished in writing a hand that resembles a graph of the wanderings of a mentally deranged centipede but I, for one, have scant patience with a correspondent who lias so little regard for the recipient of his letter that he cannot bring himself to write legibly. Provided the writer is prepared to give a reasonable amount of time and thought to its composition a letter should present no terrors to the average person. Most people’s thoughts are easily distracted and quietness is therefore essential. Think ' for a moment of what you want to say and then write it as simply as possible. It is a good method to imagine that you have the other person on the end of a telephone. Talk to him then, on paper, and keep the line free from interruptions. Soon you will find that the dreaded letfer-writing is easy after all and the added pleasure you give your friends will more than recompense you for the extra time spent. —I. McG.