baths seen you at church and I ar.i frank to confess that your appear-
ance has made so deep an impression upon me as to make me extremely
desirous of forming our acquaintance. I am, at present, a clerk in
the ribbon department at Smith & Brown's store. Will you do me the
great favor of allowing this to commence a friendship, which, I trust,
will never be regretted by yourself. Please deign to give me at least
a single line in reply to this, and oblige,
Your Sincere Admirer,
I considerably question whether it is due to propriety
to answer your note at all. But as you might fear that your letter had
miscarried, and thus be induced to write again, it is best, probably,
for me to make an immediate reply, and thus settle the affair entirely,
and relieve you, possibly, of further suspense. It will be impossible
for me to recognize you, or to think under any circumstances, of per-
mitting an acquaintance to be commenced by. such an introduction as
you seem to deem sufficient. More especially should I regret allow-
ing a friendship to be formed by recognitions in the hours of divine
service in church, while the mind should be employed in religious
observances. You will, therefore, please understand that I am
not favorable to further recognition, nor to a continuance of corre-
Reply More Favorable.
355 ST., June 10, 18.
I am in receipt of your note, and must confess that I
am surprised at your request. I am entirely opposed to commencing,
on general principles, an acquaintance with such an introduction* and
consider it very improper, especially to allow it to originate in
church during the hours of divine service. Were it not that I think your
meaning kind and your intentions good, I would return your letter
unanswered. As it is, I will take your request under consideration,
and, if I think best to grant it, you may know of the fact hy my
recognition at the close of the service in the Sabhath school.
An Advertisement in a Morning Paper.
"PERSONAL. Will the lady, who rode up Broadway last Thursday
L afternoon, about two o'clock, in an omnibus, getting out at
Stewart's, accompanied by a little girl dressed in blue suit, please
send her address to IX B. M., Herald office.
It is useless to advise people never to reply to
a personal advertisement like the above. To do
so is like totally refusing young people the priv-
ilege of dancing. People will dance, and they
will answer personal advertisements. The best
course, therefore, is to properly direct the dan-
cers, and caution the writers in their answers
to newspaper personals. If the eye of the
young lady referred to meets the above adver-
tisement, she will possibly be indignant at first,
and will, perhaps, resolve to pay no attention
to it. It will continue to occupy her attention
so much, however, and curiosity will become so
great, that, in order to ease her mind, she will
at last give her address ; in which case she
makes a very serious mistake ; as any lady re-
plying to a communication of such a character,
giving her name and residence to a stranger,
places herself to great disadvantage. Should her
communication never be answered, she will feel
mortified ever afterwards, that she committed
the indiscretion of replying to the advertisement
at all; and should the person she addresses
prove to be some worthless fellow who may
presume to press an acquaintance upon the
strength of her reply, it may cause her very
serious perplexity and embarrassment.
It is clearly evident, therefore, that she should
not give her name and address as requested ;
and yet, as the advertisement may refer to a
business matter of importance, or bring about
an acquaintance that she will not regret, she
may relieve her curiosity on the subject by
writing the following note in reply :
( Advertisement pasted in. )
D. B. M.:
I find the above advertisement in the "Herald" of this
morning. I suppose myself to be the person referred to. You will
please state your object in addressing me, with references.
Address A. L. K., Herald office.
It is probable that the advertiser, if a gentle-
man, will reply, giving his reasons for request-
ing the lady's address, with references, upon
receiving which, the lady will do as she may
choose relative to continuing the correspond-
ence ; in either case, it will be seen that she has
in no wise compromised her dignity, and she re-
tains the advantage of knowing the motive and
object that prompted the advertisement, while
she is yet unknown to the advertiser.
Great caution should be exercised in answer-
ing personals. The supposition is, if the adver-
tiser be a gentleman, that he will honorably
seek an interview with a lady, and pay court as
gentlemen ordinarily do. Still, an occasion may
happen to a man, who is in the highest sense
a gentleman, wherein he sees the lady that he
very greatly admires, and can learn her address
in no other way without rendering himself of-
fensive and impertinent; hence, the apparent
necessity of the above personal advertisement.
Instances have also occurred where gentlemen,
driven with business, and having but little time
to mingle in female society, or no opportunity,
being strangers comparatively, desirous of form-
ing the acquaintance of ladies, have honestly
advertised for correspondence, been honestly
answered, and marriage was the result.
Those advertisements, however, wherein
Sammy Brown and Coney Smith advertise for
correspondence with any number of young
ladies, for fun, mutual improvement, CA and what
may grow out of it, photographs exchanged,"
etc., young ladies should be very wary of ans-
wering. Instances have been known where
scores of young ladies, having answered such
an advertisement, could they have looked in
upon those young men, a week afterwards,
would have seen them with a pile of photo-
graphs and letters, exhibiting them to their
companions, and making fun of the girls who
had been so foolish as to answer their advertise-
It is true that no one but the.meanest kind of
a rascal would be guilty of such a disgraceful
act as to advertise for and expose correspond-
ence thus, and it is equally true that the young
lady who gives the advertiser the opportunit}^
to ridicule her shows herself to be very foolish.
"PERSONAL. A gentleman, a new comer in the city, having a suffl-
\_ cii-ucy of this world's goods to comfortably support himself and
wife, is desirous of making the acquaintance of a lady of middle years,
with a view to matrimony. Address, in the strictest confidence, giving
name, residence, and photograph, II. A. B., Station H, Post Office.
To H. A. B.,
I am led to suppose, from the reading of the above, that
it is dictated in sincerity, by a desire to meet with a lady who would
be treated with candor and respect. I have at present no acquaintance
to whom I am inclined to give a very decided preference,-nor have I
ever had any very distinct ideas on the subject of marriage. I am free,
however, to confess that, should circumstances favor my acquaintance
with a gentleman whom I could honor and respect, I might seriously
think of a proposal. Believing that you wish, as you intimate, this
letter in confidence, I will say that I am years old, am in receipt of
: annually, from property that is leased. I have been told that I
was handsome, though others, probably, have a different opinion. Of
lhat fact, you must be the judge. I am entirely free to select whom-
soever I may choose. My social standing, I trust, would be satisfac-
tory, and my accomplishments have not been neglected. It is not nec-
essary that I should write more. I shall be happy to correspond with
you with a view to better acquaintance, when, if mutually agreeable )
an introduction may take place. You desire me to send name, ad-
dress, and photograph, which, I trust you will perceive, would be
improper for me to do. It is due to myself, and, under certain cir-
cumstances, to you, that I should he very guarded as to the manner of
my introduction. A letter addressed to M. A. L., Station A, Post
Office, will reach me.
I sign a fictitious name, for obvious reasons.
A Gentleman makes a Frank Acknowledgment. Gushing
with Sentiment, and Running over with Poetry.
WHITE MOUNTAINS, N. H., Oct. 1, 18.
One by one the brown leaves are falling, reminding
us that the golden summer that we have so delightfully loitered
through approaches its close. How thickly our pathway has been
strewn with roses; how fragrant have been the million blossoms;
how sweetly the birds have sung; how beautiful have been the
sunny days; how joyous have been the starry nights! Dear M., I do
not need to tell you that this delightful summer has been to me one
grand elysian scene. I have gazed on, and dreamed of thy beauty. I
have been fed by thy sparkling repartee and merriment; I have
drank at the fountain of thy intellectuality; but the feast is ended, ,
and gradually the curtain is falling. Dear, beautiful summer I So
beautiful to me, because of thy loved presence. And standing now on
the threshold of a scene all changed, I take a last, fond, long, lingering
look on the beautiful picture that will return to me no more ; and yet
who knows, but on in that great eternity we may live again these Eden
" Like a Foundling in slumber, the summer day lay
On the crimsoning threshold of Even,
And I thought that the glow through the azure-arched way,
Was a glimpse of the coming of Heaven.
There together we sat by the beautiful stream ;
We had nothing to do but to love and to dream
In the days, that have gone on before.
These are not the same days, though they bear the same name,
With the ones I shall welcome no more.
But it may be the angels are culling them o'er,
For a Sabbath and Summer forever.
When the years shall forget the Decembers they wore,
And the shroud shall be woven, no, never!
In a twilight like that, darling M. for a bride,
Oh ! what more of the world could one wish beside,
As we gazed on the river unroll'd
Till we heard, or we fancied, its musical tide,
Where it flowed through the Gate-way of Gold?"
Dearest, you must forgive my ardent expressions in this letter.
With a temperament gushing to the brim and overflowing with senti-
ment and rhapsody, I have passed the fleeting summer in thy charming
presence, in one continual dream of poesy. I cannot now turn back
to the solemn duties before me, without telling you what trembled
on my tongue a thousand times, as we gathered flowers together and
wove our chaplets in the sunny days gone by. D^ar, darling Mary,
Hove you, I adore you. How often in the beautiful moonlight nights,
as we strolled among the lilacs and the primroses, have I been on the
verge of clasping your jeweled hand and telling you all my heart.
But, Oh! I did not quite dare; the hours were so delightful, even as
they were. Fearing that I might be repulsed, I chose to accept the
joy even that there was, rather than run the risk of losing it all.
How many a morning, have I arisen and firmly resolved, that, ere
another day, I would know my fate ! But ah ! the twilight would fall,
and the evening hour would pass by, and I never completely dared to
risk the result of a declaration. The morrow I knew would be joyous
if I bridled my impulse; it might not be if I made a mistake. But
the dream has passed by. To-morrow, I bid adien to these sylvan
groves, the quiet meadows, and the gurgling brooks, to go back to
the prose duties of business. And now, at the close of this festal
season, as I am upon the verge of going, having nothing to lose and
everything to gain, I have told you my heart. I have not the
slighest idea what your n ply will be. You have been to me one con-
tinual puzzle. If your answer is adverse, I can only entertain the
highest rtspect for you ever in the future; and memory shall keep
alive the recollection of the most blissful summer I have ever known.
If your reply is favorable dearest, may I fondly hope that it will be!
then opens before me a great volume of happiness, of which this
joyous summer has been but the opening chapter.
Dear M., may I come again and see yon, and address you hence-
forth as a lover? The messenger that brings you this, will return
again in an hour for your answer. I need not tell you what an hour
of suspense this will be to me. Upon your reply hangs my
future. If your reply is favorable, I shall tarry another day, and will
you grant me a long Interview, as I have mnch to talk over with you?
If unfavorable, pkase return this letter with your note. Accept my
warmest thanks for the entertainment which I, in common with
others, have received at your hand in the past ; and if I may not sign
myself your devoted lover, I shall at least, I trust, have ever the
pleasure of subscribing myself,
Your Sincere Friend,
DEAR CLARENCE :
I shall not attempt, in this, to answer your missive
with the same poetic fervor that colors your letter from beginning to
end. While it is given you to tread the emerald
pavements of an imaginative Eden, in my plainer
nature, I can only walk the common earth.
I fully agree with you in your opinion of the
beautiful summer, just passed. Though in seasons
heretofore many people have been here from the
cities, I have never known a summer so delightful.
Yes, Clarence, these three months have been joyous,
because shall I confess it because you have been
here. I need not write more. Yon have agreed to
slay another day; I shall be at home this after-
noon, at two o'clock, and will be happy to see
Yours Very Truly,
the lady who knows how to get an excellent breakfast early in
the morning, who is not only a model of neatness herself, but relieves
her mother in household duties, keeping her younger brothers and
sisters clean and orderly.
I have admired and loved you for your musical talent, and your
fine conversational powers, but as I could not keep the necessary
servants to enable you constantly to gratify those talents to the
exclusion of the more substantial duties, I feel that our marriage
would be a mistake for both of us.
You asked my reason for my changing love, I have reluctantly,
yet plainly, stated it. Hoping however, that you may always be
happy in life, I am,
To a Lady, from a Gentleman, Confessing
Change of Sentiment.
844 ST., April 2, 18.
Miss MARION THORNTON :
Your note accusing me
of coldness is before me. After spending several
hours lii a consideration of this subject, to deter-
mine what is my duty, I have concluded that it is
decidedly best for me to be perfectly frank with
you, and give my reasons for a change of sentiment.
I do not think we could live happily together if
we were married, because, from disparaging re-
marks I have heard you make concerning people
that are not wealthy, I think you would be entirely
dissatisfied with my circumstances ; and the further
fact that you allow your mother to do all the
drudgery of the household, you sitting in the parlor
entertaining gentlemen and affecting to have no
knowledge of housekeeping, is proof that our
tastes would not accord in home matters. I con-
sider it just as honorable, and just as important,
that young ladies should do something to support
themselves as that young men should. If the op-
portunities are not as great for them to go abroad,
they can, at least while at home, learn to be good
in sewing, cooking, and housekeeping, and thus be
prepared when opportunities offer, to make pru-
dent, economical, tidy housewives. I do not
uuder-value the importance of being proficient in
the lighter accomplishments which go to make
a lady at ease in society; but I vastly more prize
Reply to a Young Man addicted to Intemperance.
One Way of Breaking the Ice.
584 ST., July 1, 18.
MY DEAR FRIEND CAROLINE :
I returned yesterday, from a brief trip
into Canada, my journey being most agreeable, only one little episode
breaking the monotony, as I neared home, which was this: iu the
next seat behind me in the car sat a young couple who were evidently
regretting that their ride was so near an end. Though buried in my
reading, I could not avoid hearing much that they said. One question
asked by the young man made a striking impression ou my mind.
" Maggie," said he, " we have now been acquainted a good while ; you
know me, and I know you. I do not need to tell you that I love you
with all my heart; now do you love me?"
I knew the young fellow had taken that occasion, when the cars
were thundering along, so that he might not be knocked down by
the beating of his own heart. I confess to have been guilty of eaves-
dropping then. I listened intently for the lady's answer, but just at
that moment, as my ill luck would have it, another train came thun-
dering by us, and her voice was drowned in the noise. I got to think-
ing like this suppose you and I were riding thus, and I should ask
precisely the same question; what would be your reply? I am very
curious to know what your answer would be, and shall await a letter
from you, with much anxiety.
Most Truly Yours,
An Offer of Marriage.
ST., Dec. 10, 18.
DEAREST BERTHA :
I have intended, O how many times ! when we
have been together, to put the simple question which I intend this
note shall ask; but although apparently a very easy matter to ask the
hand in marriage of one I so deeply love as yourself, it is no easy task.
I therefore write what I have never found courage in my heart to
speak. Dearest, will you bestow upon me the great happiness of per-
mitting me to call you mine? If I have spoken this too boldly, you
will forgive; but I fondly hope that you will not be indifferent to my
appeal. I trust, if you answer this in the affirmative, that you will
never regret doing so. Anxiously awaiting your answer, I remain,
367 ST., Dec. 10, 18-.
Your proposal is quite unexpected to me, but it is made
with such candor and frankness that I can take no offence. I cannot,
in this note, give you a definite reply. Marriage is a very serious mat-
ter; and while I regard you with the greatest favor, I desire to consult
my near relatives, and consider the subject myself carefully for a few
days, ere I give you a final answer. I think I can assure you, however,
that you may hope. Very Sincerely,
Letter from a Young Man who Proposes Marriage and
483 ST., April 16, 18.
You have doubtless heard of my intention to go West
in the coming month. Though surrounded here with my relatives and
all the many friends of my boyhood, I have an intense desire to try
my fortune amid new scenes, feeling that the fetters that now bind me
and seem to hinder my upward progress, will then be broken.
I shall sunder my ties with some regrets, but to commence my busi-
ness career as I am desirous of doing, I must make the sacrifice; in
doing so, I do no more than thousands have done before me. In the
great broad fields of the growing West, a young man of resolution,
ambition, honesty, temperance, and perseverance cannot fail, I believe,
to better his condition much more rapidly than he can here; you
will, I think, coincide with me in this opinion.
Dear Clara, of all my farewells, none will be so sad to me as that I
shall bid to you. Dear, dear Clara, you cannot be indifferent to the
fact that I have long devotedly loved you ; and, at the hour of parting,
I feel that I cannot go without telling you my heart, and asking you if
I may not have your love in return. And now, while I am asking,
will you not take me with my heart, and in turn allow me to be your
protector through life?
Dearest, I am going to press my suit still further. Will you not be
mine before I go, and accompany me on my journey? I know this is
asking a great deal of you. To accept of this proposition is to take
you from a home of affluence, where you are surrounded with every
desired comfort. I have no right to ask the sacrifice; and yet I have
resolved to make bold before I go, and tell you all. If you accept my
offer and will consent to cast your fortunes with me out in the great
Sea of the Hereafter, I can assure you that no trouble or sorrow will
come to you through me, and that, as you will be my dear, dear com-
panion and sacred trust, so will I be to you all that lover and husband
Now, dearest, if you will accept my future as your own, and place
yourself by my side, accepting the sorrow and partaking of the joy
that is in store for me, you will make me the happiest of men. If you
assent, God grant that you may never regret your faith. Do not decide
the question hastily. The sacrifice is such, in leaving home and kin-
dred, that you may not accept of my proposal even though you love.
When you have fully determined, however, please send the answer,
which I shall most anxiously await. Ever dear Clara,
ST., April 16, 18.
DEAR HENRY :
I can make a reply to your candid question at once.
I do not need to deliberate upon it long. I love you ; I confide in you.
I will trust you; I will go with you; I will accept the love and the fu-
ture you offer. You may have many joys; you may experience some
sorrows. I will share and bear them all with you, trusting that patient,
earnest, willing effort may crown our labors with success. Believing
that God will guide and prosper us, I can only add, hoping to see you
soon .that I am Ever Yours,
NOTES OF INVITATION AND WEDDING CARDS.
Wedding Cards i Invitations.
the lady who marries resides
with her parents, with relatives,
guardians, or friends, and the
marriage receives the approval of
those parties, the ceremony usu-
ally takes place at the residence
of the bride, or at the church
where she generally attends ; a
reception being held at her resi-
dence soon afterwards or upon the return from
the bridal tour.
Some parties prefer to marry very quietly,
having but few guests at the wedding. Others
make more elaborate display, and observe the
time as an occasion of general rejoicing. Where
many guests are invited, it is customary to issue
notes of invitation to those persons whose at-
tendance is desired, accompanied by wedding
cards bearing the name of the bride and groom.
The form of wording such notes and cards has
changed but little for several years, though the
style in which such wording appears, changes
Two methods are pursued in preparing the
invitations and cards : one being to have them
neatly printed from type ; the other, and more
expensive manner, is to have them engraved and
printed in the metropolis, by a card-engraver,
who makes an exclusive business of preparing
The later style for cards and notes of invita-
tion is to have the most of the wording in a
light script, upon very fine, white, billet paper,
and the cards upon thin bristol-board, some-
times long, and frequently nearly square, accord-
ing to fancy.
The following cards and notes of invitation,
while expressing the suitable wording, do not,
in all cases, represent the size of the card or
note of invitation. They are of various sizes,
according to fancy, and generally a little larger
than here illustrated.
In sending the note of invitation, it is cus-
tomary to inclose the cards in the same envel-
ope. In cases where no guests are invited, yet
it is desired to inform the acquaintances through-
out the country of the marriage, it is usual to
inclose the cards alone. Formerly, it was com-
mon to use but one card, having Mr. & Mrs.
Chas. H. Smith in the center of the card, while
the lady's maiden name was placed upon the
lower left-hand corner. Of late, it is regarded
more in style to use two cards, one considera-
bly larger than the other ; the larger bearing
the names, Mr. & Mrs. Chas. H. Smith, the
smaller, the lady's name alone, thus:
NOTES OF INVITATION TO WEDDINGS.
If it is definitely decided where the future
permanent residence of the newly wedded
couple is to be, it is proper to place the name