To the Editor of the Hartford Courant and
Thomas B. Kirby, Private Secretary to
the Postmaster General
8 December 1879 • Hartford, Conn.
(Hartford Courant, 9 December 1879, UCCL 02807)

To the Editor of The Courant:—
Sir:

A day or two ago I received a formidable envelop from Washington enclosing a letter [&] some printed matter. This envelop had certain peculiarities about it. For instance, in its right hand upper corner an oval black stamp was printed, bearing the words, “United States Postal service;” in the upper left hand corner the following words were printed, in large, bold type, in three separate lines—thus:

In the lower left-hand corner was printed the following words, in two separate lines—thus:

A penalty of $300 is fixed by law, for using this
Envelop for other than Official Business.

In this majestic envelop I found the following among other things:

Post Office Department,
Washington, D. C., Nov. 30th, 1879.

}

S. M. Clements, Esq.,
Hartford, Conn.

Dear Sir:

Noticing your letter to The Hartford Courant upon the recent order of the Postmaster General, I take the liberty of enclosing a few copies of a tract which the Department has prepared in order to meet such hardened cases as yours. After reading the tract and the enclosed clipping (from the Cincinnati Enquirer), which latter I wish you would return to me as it is the only copy I have, you will see that the “unnecessary labor” of which you complain was really as unnecessary as the complaint, the only utility of which was to add to the already surplus stock of misinformation in the world, and to enable some needy compositors to increase their strings by several thousand, which latter end might have been just as well attained by the use of bogus.

I send you by this mail a copy of the Postal Laws and Regulations to explain the allusions in the tract, and hope you will take the trouble to look into the matter thoroughly. The Department is a unit in regarding the order as the greatest step towards perfecting the postal service that has been taken for years, and its officers are confident that when the public understand it they will sustain it.

Yours Truly,

Thos. B. Kirby.

(Private Secretary to the Postmaster General.)

My Callow Friend—When you shall have outgrown the effervescences of youth, [&] acquired a bit of worldly experience, you will cease to make mistakes like that. That is to say, you will refrain from meddling in matters which do not concern you, you will recognize the simple wisdom of confining yourself strictly to your own business.

There are persons who would resent this innocent piece of impertinence of yours, [&] say harsh things to you about it; but fortunately for you, I am not that sort of person. Whatever else I may lack, I have a good heart. Therefore, in a humane [&] gentle spirit, I will try to set you right upon certain small points,—not to hurt you, but to do you good.

You seem to think you have been called to account. This is a grave error. It is the Post Office Department of the United States of America which has been called to account. There is a difference here, which you have over-looked—I will point it out. You are not the post office department, but only an irresponsible, inexpensive, [&] unnecessary appendage to it. Grave, elderly men, public instructors, like me, do not call private secretaries to account. Bear this in mind, it will be a help to you. The mistake you have made is simple—you have imagined yourself the dog, whereas you are only the tail. You have endeavored to wag the dog; this was not judicious; you should have hung quiescent until the dog wagged you. If I stepped on this tail—[&] we will grant, for the sake of argument, that I did—it was not to call the tail’s attention to anything, but only to direct the attention of the main body of the animal to a certain matter. You perceive, it was simply in the nature of ringing a bell, that is all; my business was not with the bell itself, but with the owner of it. A bell is a useful thing, in a measure, but it should not keep on ringing when one is done with it.

Do I make myself partially understood? Lest there be any doubt, let me illustrate farther—by parable; for the parable is the simplest [&] surest vehicle for conveying information to the immature mind. You seem to have gathered the impression, somehow, that you are a member of the cabinet. This is an error. You are only extraneous matter connected with a member of the cabinet. Your chief is one of the guns of that battery, but you are not. You are not the gun, or the load, or even the ramrod; neither do you supply the ammunition. You only do up the cartridge [&] serve as a fire-stick to touch it off. You are not the barrel of molasses, you are only the faucet through which the molasses is discharged. You are not the boot, but the bootjack; that is to say, you do not furnish the idea, you only pull it off. You are not the lightning, but only the lightning-rod.

Do you perceive? The thing I am trying to convey to you is, that it does not become you to assume functions which do not belong to you. You may think it strange that I am closing this note without saying anything upon the matter which you have broached. Overlook that, drop it out of your mind—we do not disturb the repose of private secretaries with affairs with which they have nothing to do.

The newspaper slip which you have enclosed to me will be returned to you by one of my private secretaries. I keep eleven of these things—not for use, but display.

Although I cannot consent to talk public business with you, a benevolent impulse moves me to call your attention to a matter which is of quite serious importance to you as an individual. You, an unofficial private citizen, have written me an entirely personal [&] unofficial letter, which you have had the temerity to enclose to me in a Department envelop bearing upon its surface in clear print this plain [&] unmistakable warning: “A penalty of $300 is fixed by law, for using this envelop for other than official business.” The servants of the government’s officers ought to be, for simple decency’s sake, among the last to break its laws. You have committed a serious offense—an offense which has none of the elements of a joke about it—[&] only plain [&] simple treachery to his duty, on the part of your superior, can save you from the penalty involved. The kindly [&] almost affectionate spirit which I have shown you is sufficient evidence that I do not wish you any harm, but indeed the reverse. So, if that treachery shall intervene to shield you, I shall not be sorry—as far as you individually are concerned—but I should be unfaithful to my citizenship if I did not at the same time feel something of a pang to see a law of the land coolly ignored [&] degraded by one of the very highest officers of the government. As far as I am concerned, you are safe—unless you intrude upon me again; in which case I may be tempted to bring you before the courts myself for the violation of that law.

There, now—receive my blessing. Go, [&] do not mix into other people’s affairs any more. Otherwise you may pick up somebody who will feed disagreeable words to you instead of sugar.

[Mark Twain].

Textual Commentary

Editorial Signs

Description of Texts and Provenance

Source text(s):

“Mark Twain and Postal Matters,” Hartford Courant, 9 December 1879, 2.

Previous publication:“The Postal Order Again,” New York Times, 14 December 1879, 2.

Emendations and textual notes:

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

& • and

Mark Twain • Mark Twain