This is an eagerly awaited monograph by the author of one of the most impressive social histories of the past dozen years, Sociability and Power: The Cultural Worlds of the Verneys, 1660–1720 (Oxford, 1999). This new work was presaged by two valuable essays on letter writing and letter writers. This is a fascinating book. It begins with a valuable and attractively presented overview of how individuals acquired the skills of literacy, illustrated by case studies of particular families. I would have appreciated on pages 19–23 more cross referencing to actual examples. This is followed by a detailed study of the development of the post—it is full of fascinating detail: readers will be unable to put the book down. Whyman explains the dependence of the population upon the Royal Mail, discussing the ways in which, for example, it affected the emotional lives of the people and speculating upon its effect on the “serial nature of literature” (59). A series of case studies of correspondents within and between generations of individual farming, working, and middling-sort families—some known, like the Wheatcrofts of Ashover and the Strutts and Arkwrights, others unknown—captivate the reader and impress with Whyman's ability to empathize in an always scholarly manner with her subjects. We learn how the individuals learned to write and why they felt motivated to correspond with their circle.

The crux of Whyman's argument is her thesis that letter writing among lower social orders was dependent upon the creation of a postal service, in this case, that of the Royal Mail. This thesis, while plausible and attractive, remains to be proven. Is it really the case that more letters were written by members of the “lower” social orders than was the case before the arrival of a reliable postal service? Did the establishment of the Royal Mail create its own literate audience? It is true that edited and printed collections of letters antedating the eighteenth century are almost exclusively concerned with correspondents from the noble and gentle classes, with an occasional smattering of merchant or professionals cum gentry contributors (e.g., Rosemary O’Day, ed., Cassandra Brydges, 1670–1735, First Duchess of Chandos: Life and Letters [Woodbridge, 2007]; Marion Balderston, ed., James Claypoole's Letter Book: London and Philadelphia, 1681–1684 [San Marino, CA, 1967]). Equally, scholarly studies of correspondents have focused upon elites (e.g., James Daybell, ed., Early Modern Women's Letter Writing, 1450–1700 [Houndmills, 2001]). However, some manuscript collections contain many letters to and from persons of lower social standing that have never been studied in any serious fashion. I think, for example, of Thomas Temple of Stowe's correspondence in the first half of the seventeenth century with his stewards and servants or his wife Hester's correspondence with her tenant and distant kinswoman at Great Dassett, Warwickshire. Such letters demonstrate a considerable familiarity with and facility for letter writing to rival that of eighteenth-century equivalents although they are, more often than not, not social letters. These earlier letters survive because their content had a relevance for the gentlefolk with whom they corresponded. It is probable that, once possessed of the ability to read and write, people used their skills in many other contexts for their own purposes. So, just as Whyman's artisans and farmers used their writing abilities to communicate with their kith and kin, so the servants, farmers, and tradespeople who communicated with the Temples probably wrote letters to members of their family and work circles. While it is generally accepted that letter writing increased in importance and frequency when correspondents were separated by distance, it is certainly not true that these conditions rarely existed prior to the eighteenth century. For example, servants of the Temples—often drawn from the same families—worked on Temple estates distributed through three or more counties as well as London and had every reason to wish to maintain contact with relatives and friends. Juliet Fleming's insightful study of graffiti demonstrates the importance of the “whited wall” in the acquisition and perfection of writing and drawing skills at all levels of society into the late eighteenth century and the way in which family members communicated with one another in writing in a real but ephemeral manner (Juliet Fleming, Graffiti and the Writing Arts of Early Modern England [London, 2001]).

It would be dangerous, of course, to argue from relative silence that sociable letter writing was as common before 1660 as afterward. It is the case that substantial collections of family correspondence such as the sixty-three Whyman has identified for families beneath the gentry and merchant classes do not survive prior to 1660. Nevertheless, one might venture to suggest that the real question to be tackled—not raised by Whyman directly—is why such sociable letters survive for the eighteenth century in considerable numbers. Why were they preserved? Are they just accidental survivals, or were they kept because some aspect of their content made their keeping relevant or essential to their recipients?

The appendix contains a detailed listing of the correspondence the author studied. This will prove invaluable to scholars in a variety of disciplines. There is an unfortunate absence of bibliography, and the publisher's choice of endnotes in preference to footnotes is also regrettable. The study is probing and provocative: the result is a book that stimulates and reminds us that, when all is said and done, history should be about people and seeking to describe, understand, and explain their thought processes and behavior. It also demonstrates how very readable history can and should be. The central thesis is attractive but unproven. The book will, however, repay careful reading and consideration, and Susan Whyman is to be applauded for following one excellent social history with another.