The word “advice” comes from two Latin words: the prefix ad, which implies a movement toward something, and vīsum,
“vision,” a distinctly vivid or imaginative image. To ask for advice is
to reach for a person whose vision exceeds yours, for reasons
supernatural (oracles, mediums), professional (doctors, lawyers), or
pastoral (parents, friends). It is a curious accident of language that
“advice” contains within it the etymologically unrelated word “vice,”
from the Latin vitium, meaning “fault” or “sin.” Yet the accident is suggestive. [...] Mary Beth Norton’s book “ ‘I Humbly Beg Your Speedy Answer’: Letters on Love & Marriage from the World’s First Personal Advice Column” (Princeton) collects nearly three hundred specimens of the advice that the Athenian Mercury,
as it’s usually known, offered. London was at the time Europe’s largest
city, a place where crosscurrents of trade, finance, robbery, and
prostitution pulled recently urbanized inhabitants into previously
unimaginable relationships with strangers. In the age of print, Hamburg
was the birthplace of magazine publishing, and Paris the birthplace of
the literary review and the gossip rag; but restless, immoral London was
where the advice column first transformed people’s private lives into
object lessons for ethical behavior. The anonymity of the modern city
gave rise to a distinctly modern form. Merve Emre, The New Yorker