"Yours affectionately."

A long and violent epistle perhaps. You inquire in what spirit Alpha
received it. The truth is, he never did receive it.



IV


You naturally assume that before the letter could reach him Alpha had
been mortally struck down by apoplexy, double pneumonia, bullet,
automobile, or some such enemy of joy, and that all the dreadful
things which I had foreseen might happen did in fact happen, thus
proving once more what a very wise friend I was, and filling me with
justifiable pride in my grief. But it was not so. Alpha was not struck
down, nor did his agreeable house topple over the metaphorical
precipice. According to poetical justice he ought to have been struck
down, just to serve him right, and as a warning to others--only he was
not. Not merely the wicked, but the improvident and the negligent,
often flourish like the green bay tree, and they keep on flourishing,
and setting wisdom and righteousness at defiance in the most
successful manner. Which, indeed, makes the life of a philosopher and
sagacious adviser extremely difficult and ungrateful.

Alpha never received my letter because I never sent it. There are
letters which one writes, not to send, but to ease one's mind. This
letter was one of them. It would not have been proper to dispatch such
a letter. Moreover, in the duties of friendship, as distinguished from
the pleasures of friendship, speech is better, bolder, surer than