It is wonderful how persistent are certain prejudices in the minds of the British public. With vast numbers of people it is an accepted fact that Bradshaw is unintelligible, and a book only for experts in travel. The A B C, with its delightful appeal in the title to the simple-minded, was brought out to meet the needs of such people, but to anybody who has grasped one or two elementary facts concerning our railway system there is no doubt whatever which is the more interesting volume. Bradshaw will trace for you the whole of your journey, the places you pass, the stations you stop at, and the junctions at which you may have to change. Indeed a love of Bradshaw for its own sake often develops in the mind of a man who can travel in imagination, and we have all probably known instances of delightful folk, almost entirely of one sex, who can amuse themselves by the hour over the study of time-tables.

Another accepted prejudice is that the Post Office Guide is obscure and useless for the average citizen. It is rarely seen on a lady's writing-table, though the need for the information it contains is probably felt by her almost every day. She will resort to any expedient to obtain enlightenment about Post Office methods short of consulting the best authority on the matter. With all our vaunted education we hear people still object that they do not know where to look for what they want, and they seem astonished if you inform them that the book has an index. They object to the size of the volume; they want the information they require to be obtained without the slightest effort: our numerous books of reference are causing us to lose the sense of joy in the mere pursuit of knowledge. A proper Post Office Guide should go in our waistcoat pocket or reticule, and if the Post Office cannot tell us in a small compass what to do it is out of date, and the sooner the institution is managed on modern business lines the better for everybody. That is the sort of criticism we hear of a book which only requires to be known to be appreciated. Besides, there is a pocket edition published.

Let me take first this matter of the size of the volume which frightens many people. The book contains nearly 900 pages. But 370 odd of these make up a list of the provincial offices in the United Kingdom, while an additional 100 contain the time-tables of the various mails to and from London. Another 100 pages give directions and time-tables for the London district, and about 150 pages are devoted to time-tables and directories for foreign mails. The printed instructions, therefore, concerning the vast postal, telegraph, telephone, savings bank, money order, and postal order systems are limited to about 150 pages, and there are no advertisements. This last fact, I admit, diminishes its interest to the Bradshaw enthusiast, because part of the charm of his volume is that he can select the hotels where he shall stay on his imaginary journeys. But my point is that by far the larger portion of the book is composed of time-tables and directories which are both useful and interesting, and that, considering the huge mass of business undertaken by the Post Office, the section devoted to explaining the regulations is small, and expressed clearly and concisely. There was a delightful picture in Punch some time ago of two ladies in a shop debating what to purchase. Then one said to the other: “You should try so-and-so; it is so highly spoken of in the advertisements.” Now this lady's interest in the Post Office could never be stimulated by the recommendations in the Postal Guide. There is not even a preliminary puff in the shape of a preface. The book, for instance, begins with simply an unadorned statement of the basis of the mail service.

“The prepaid rate of postage is as follows:—

“Get that into your mind,” the Guide seems to say, “and you will find that you have mastered the most useful fact in the whole system.” There are, of course, numerous qualifications to this rule arising out of the necessities of the Service. We may admit that there are perhaps too many of these in the Post Office system, and that it might be in the end cheaper for the Department to take more risks, but we can certainly see a good reason for the following:—

“No letter may exceed two feet in length, one foot in width, or one foot in depth.”

But there is an exception even to this: the British Government has a way of contracting itself out of its own regulations, and official letters are carefully excluded from the application of this rule. The mere layman feels annoyed at this; he usually pictures the Government as a designing body which is always “on the make,” and has certainly not yet arrived at the truth that the State represents him even in small matters connected with Post Office revenue.

Everybody knows a postcard can be sent for a halfpenny, but you will be wrong if you think this is because it is a small thing, and that the Post Office charges are in proportion to the size of an article. Indeed the Guide will tell you plainly that if you reduce the card in size below 4 by 2½ inches it will be treated as a letter. This does not seem logical to many plain Britons, who think that half a postcard ought naturally to be a farthing. They don't appreciate the difficulties arising out of the carriage of diminutive articles.

The Halfpenny Packet Post requires careful consideration before we venture to experiment with its privileges. Many people regard it only as a trap to enable the Post Office to charge excess fees on delivery. But if the Post Office Guide is at your elbow you will be able satisfactorily to circumvent the designing officials, and moreover you will find abundant opportunities in your daily correspondence to economise your expenditure by the use of this post. Circulars, printed visiting cards, Christmas, New Year, Easter and birthday cards may, it is generally known, be sent by the post, and a bit of writing is allowed. Now it is this “bit of writing” which is the problem both to officials and to the public. Mr. Henniker Heaton recently stated that there are only two persons in the Post Office who know what can and what cannot be sent by halfpenny post, and these two disagree. Five thousand persons, he tells us, were fined one penny each because their lodge treasurer wrote “With thanks” on his receipts; five thousand other innocent persons were similarly fined because the word “Gentleman” was affixed in writing to the concluding words of the circular. In another halfpenny post case we are told that twenty thousand recipients of a circular were fined one penny each for the reason that a date was underlined in red pencil. I do not know what truth there is in these charges, but if correct, the Post Office certainly was obeying “the letter” of the regulations. It is a matter of opinion whether it would not have been better to carry out “the spirit” more generously. For the Guide tells us that there may appear in writing on the document, dates, hours and particulars of times, names, addresses, and description of parties, the place, character and objects of meetings or appointments. And there is a delightful permission for “formulas of courtesy or of a conventional character not exceeding five words, or initials.” Some officials take this rule very seriously. They have bestowed as much ingenuity upon its interpretation as commentators have done on texts of Scripture. I have before me a report from a Superintendent on the question “whether 'With love' and similar expressions on Christmas cards might be regarded as forming a dedication.”

“Upon inland cards it is considered that, bearing in mind how manifold are the forms that formulas of courtesy and of convention take, and that no definitions thereof have been framed, such words could reasonably be regarded as partaking of the nature of the above-described expressions. It is also the opinion that inasmuch as the terminology of dedications is subject only to the laws of decent expression, &c., the phrase may be taken as permissible in such addresses. The discussion of the point before has not come under note.”

I think the complaint that “no definitions of formulas of courtesy have been framed” is a delightful touch, and the Superintendent is to be congratulated on a masterly statement of the situation. Paradoxes and epigrams are clearly disallowed at the low price of one halfpenny, and on the whole we may fairly conclude that when an expression of love is priced as low as one halfpenny, and is in an unfastened envelope, it is purely conventional, and should not contravene either the letter or spirit of the regulations.

In the regulations for the Newspaper Post there is less opportunity for casuistry. You are bound down to one formula only if you must write something on the packet other than the address. You may write “With compliments,” but any stronger form of expression will be charged as a letter. This is an excellent way of teaching people that there is a cash value to be put on even professions of friendship. Perhaps we may be allowed to notice in the minute regulations which are hedged round the halfpenny post the jealousy of the profit-making official of a postage which is not particularly remunerative. And a moment's consideration will show us that, if much latitude were allowed to the public in what they could write in a halfpenny packet, there would be a considerable reduction in the number of profitable penny letters. People who complain are really demanding halfpenny postage instead of penny postage for letters, and this of course could be secured to-morrow if the nation is prepared to pay an increased income-tax for the privilege. And if the nation will consent to charge the expense to imperial taxation there is no reason why we should not have free postage as well.

The Parcel Post regulations are set forth in great detail: there are so many things which evil-disposed persons would like to send us by post if they could get them accepted over the counter. Among such articles are explosive substances and live animals. Some may think the former term includes the latter: it probably would inside a postal packet. The special permission of the Postmaster-General has to be obtained for the despatch knowingly of even a flea. A special exemption is made in the case of live bees, provided they are sent in suitable receptacles, and so packed as to avoid all risk of injury to the Postmaster-General. Wasps are not allowed even in suitable receptacles: the risk is evidently too great. Besides, there is no public demand for wasps.

Much advance has been made in recent years in the development of Express Delivery services. I do not think they are as well known as they ought to be: they are not “spoken of highly in the advertisements,” only a simple statement of what you can do when in a hurry appears in the Post Office Guide. But the broad effect of the regulations is that with some increase in your expenditure you can have practically a private postal despatch and delivery service of your own. A special messenger will take a message or packet for you direct to any distance at the rate of 3d. a mile. Living animals, including dogs, may be sent by this means, also liquids. This is only one way in which you can be independent of the ordinary mail service. I suspect that many persons who have not a Postal Guide in their possession are ignorant of the fact that a letter weighing 4 oz. may be handed in at a passenger station for immediate transmission by railway. This is a convenience to many people who have lost the post and are near a railway station. Then you can use the telephone to speed up your mail service. You can telephone a letter to a post office, and it will be taken down in writing there and despatched by express delivery.

If you lose your train at a big railway station the company will readily provide you with “a special” at a cost prohibitive to most men's purses. If, on the other hand, you lose the post, the Postmaster-General can at once provide you with “a special” also, but it will only be at a cost slightly in excess of the ordinary charge, and, unlike the case of the railway train, your post “special” will probably arrive before the ordinary mail.

There is one soul-stirring regulation for the Express Delivery services: it is hidden away in small print at the bottom of a page. What would not Selfridge's or Whiteley's make of such an announcement! “Postmasters may arrange for the conduct of a person to an address by an express messenger.” “To see a man home” is a duty which can now be vicariously put on the Post Office.

But it is not my purpose to republish the provisions of the Guide in these pages: I want only to suggest to my readers that they may lose many opportunities to avail themselves of the various services through ignorance. For, as I have already hinted, the Postmaster-General is like “Bobs” in Rudyard Kipling's verses, “'E does not advertise,” and many of the admirable things which he is prepared to do for the public remain practically undeveloped because of his modesty. How powerful would be the appeal to the public if he could follow the example of the Bedminster Down Penny Bank and advertise the Post Office Savings Bank with an effective poster such as the one on the opposite page.

To reach the heart of the people the appeal must be in the people's own idioms. There is nothing of this kind in the Postal Guide: you stumble across conveniences for the first time in its pages entirely by accident—conveniences, perhaps, which you have only imagined in dreams and have perhaps thought of asking Mr. Henniker Heaton to advocate. And all the time they were in existence, buried in the pages of the Postal Guide.

But the man who delights in Bradshaw should find the most entertaining portion of the volume in the list of offices and time-tables. By itself this section is an admirable lesson in geography.

I have always found the list of the London streets showing their nearest post offices extremely useful. If I cannot locate the district in which the street is situated by its name alone, I am often able to do so when I know the name of its nearest post office. For instance, Holford Square, W.C.: where is it in the big Western Central District? The Guide tells me King's Cross Road is the nearest post office, and I know what part of London to make for at once.

The time-tables of the provincial mail services always interest me exceedingly. Part of the charm of writing a letter is to be able to realise the time when your friend will be reading it. You can of course usually do this if you send a letter by the last post. You know then that as a rule he will be reading it at breakfast. But if your friend lives at Red Hill and you post your letter in London to him after breakfast, when will he get it? The Guide will enlighten you at once. He will be reading the letter between 3 and 4 P.M.

If your friend lives at Wick, in the very north of Scotland, when will he get the letter which you post to him in London, say on a Monday evening at 6 o'clock? Again you can fix the delivery of the letter within an hour at about 6 o'clock on the following evening. If he writes to you by return, and posts the letter the same evening at 11 o'clock, you will receive it by the first post on Thursday morning. Now if you went to the local post office with an inquiry on this subject, the official will only look at the Post Office Guide for the information which you could have obtained yourself without the trouble of a journey.

There are many people who think that the country post is fixed in London for everywhere at 6 o'clock, or at 5 o'clock in the suburbs. If they miss this they think that the first delivery in the morning has been lost. In numbers of instances this is the case, but the Guide will indicate to you plenty of places to which you can post late for the first delivery in the morning. For places as far north as Newcastle-on-Tyne and Manchester you can post up to 10.30 at the General Post Office to secure the first delivery.

Another advantage of these tables is that if you post a letter in London or the country on Saturday you will be able to find out whether or not there is a Sunday delivery in the place to which the letter is addressed. It is difficult to go wrong with these tables; they are often more reliable than the information to be obtained at the local post office.

Outside a local post office, in the flowing handwriting of the postmaster, appeared this notice:—

Like Homer, the local post office often nods.

Sometimes the Head Office nods too. Years ago there used to be a poster which was displayed at every post office, headed “Advantages to Depositors,” and these advantages were carefully numbered. They amounted to eighteen, neither more nor less. But the eighteenth was that “Additional information can be obtained of any local postmaster or by application free of cost at 144A Queen Victoria Street, E.C.” This was not a very happy ending to one of the few efforts made by the Department to advertise its wares.

The sections devoted to Foreign and Colonial Mails will also interest the Bradshaw enthusiast. The Postal Union has had the effect of levelling the rates to something approaching to uniformity, but the varieties in distance remain. The Guide gives the approximate time for the journey of a letter, and we understand the method. Train and boat will take you to Paris now in something over eight hours. The Post Office, allowing for sorting, &c., at each end, will take your letter over the same distance and deliver it to the addressee in ten hours. Correspondence to Berlin takes 23 hours in transmission, to St. Petersburg 61 hours, Constantinople 90 hours, and so on. You can ascertain from the Guide the route your letter will take, and you are clearly told what you must not send by letter post to certain countries. Australia will not accept opium, tobacco, or rabbit poison; China will not take cocaine, opium, and morphia; Denmark declines almanacs except those relating to literary subjects; Italy refuses all our patent medicines and articles of apparel, playing-cards, feathers, perfumes, “and other things.” We should be very careful, considering the last phrase, what we send to Italy. New Zealand objects to cuttings of grape vines and printed editions of English copyright books and music; Persia jibs at “pictures of the human form and packets of pictorial postcards”; Roumania will not have religious pictures, photographs and reproductions of pictures from foreign history, soiled newspapers, or playing-cards; Russia objects to everything almost except a letter, especially printed matter. The Straits Settlements decline opium, morphia, morphine, cocaine, spirits, and bhang. This is the only country which declines bhang. Trinidad refuses “Rough on Rats” (poison): it is the first experience we have met of humanitarianism towards rats. Most countries object to coin, gold, silver, precious stones, and jewellery.

In the Foreign Parcel Post the objections are more detailed. For instance, you must not send to Belgium any game out of season, and arms and ammunition are refused by this and most other countries. Cuba dislikes naturally dead animals and insects, and Denmark objects to any potatoes which come from North America. The Falkland Islands put in a protest with which we shall sympathise against “shoddy and disused clothing”: to receive it would obviously imply that in the Islands you can wear anything. Greece wisely suspects sausages, and Persia declines all “articles offensive to good manners or to the Mussulman religion.” Persia evidently wishes by her regulations to give the impression that she is highly sensitive to comme il faut.

Have I not made out my case, that the Post Office Guide is almost as interesting as Bradshaw? At any rate there is no doubt that, from the point of view of the long-suffering official, the British public are in need of a Postal Guide. I am quite sure that in the eyes of the average counter clerk the British public is the most over-rated institution in the country. There seems at times no limit to its wrongheadedness and obtuseness on postal matters.

There is, I am afraid, very often a great deal of truth in the charges that are often brought against postal counter clerks, especially female clerks, for incivility. I am not defending them—I have suffered myself; but a great deal too much is made of single instances, and I am convinced that in the vast majority of cases the charge does not apply. There are four classes of public servants who have my special sympathy: policemen, railway officials at big passenger stations, omnibus conductors, and Post Office counter clerks. They are all answering foolish questions the whole day long.

The editor of Truth once asked his readers, before desiring to air their grievances against the Post Office in his pages, to consider seriously whether the rule, regulation, or treatment of which they were complaining might not be justifiable. Regulations must exist in every business, and having made rules the Department must enforce them without discrimination. “It would be out of the question to give sorters or Post Office clerks a discretion to wink at some kinds of additions to postcards and surcharge others. Whenever you make rules you create absurdities and hardships. It is absurd that if a letter weighs one ounce to the closest nicety you can send it for one penny, and that if you enclosed the hind leg of a flea in that same letter, the Post Office should insist on your paying an extra halfpenny—50 per cent. more—just for the hind leg of a flea. Granted that this is absurd, it would be still more absurd if there were no line drawn between the penny and the three-halfpenny rate. The Post Office stands badly in need of criticism, but let the criticism be reasonable.” I think this is common sense, and people should not abuse the Post Office servants merely because they are obviously doing their duty. A lady wrote to the Postmaster-General in the following strain, and it is the type of hundreds of letters received by him: “I should like some other reply than the usual stereatippied reply which I undurstand is usual and I may say that I am writing under legal advice I shall probly put the matter wholly into Solicitorrs hands.” Her intentions might have the desirable effect of improving her orthography, but the law is usually on the side of the Post Office, and the stereotyped reply is in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the only one possible in the circumstances. You can frighten your greengrocer probably by the threat of a solicitor's letter; it does not disturb the equanimity of his Majesty's Postmaster-General.

The moral is that there is no reason why anybody should resort to his solicitor for either partial or complete advice on postal matters, so long as a Post Office Guide is on the bookshelf. If the book says one thing and the postal servant says the other, then is the time for a complaint to the Postmaster-General, and not before. And if you do happen to bowl out that right honourable gentleman on a question of fact, you will have in nine cases out of ten a letter of regret from him, and possibly a word of thanks to you for having brought the matter under his notice.

As a private citizen I have been a student of the Post Office Guide during many years. I have watched with interest the great improvements and useful additions which have been from time to time introduced into the volume. But there are two desirable features I have always missed, and their absence still makes Bradshaw to me a more readable volume. I want a map of the world, showing in colour the countries which belong to the British Empire and those which are within the Postal Union. I want also a map of the United Kingdom showing at least all the head offices. And for the benefit of the large mass of the half-educated clients of the Post Office, who belong to all classes of society, I should like to see an appendix containing “A Complete Letter Writer,” giving specimens of letters as they should be written to his Majesty's Postmaster-General.