rooms, and even further, if respect requires.
When a person to whom you pay a visit
chooses, in spite of his superior rank, to
conduct you as far as the door, either of the
suite of rooms or of the street, you ought not
to refuse the honour; but you must show
your sense of it by marks of the most
profound respect. It is a gross piece of rudeness
to make people wait who pay you a
visit. If you are unable to keep them
company so long as politeness would seem to
require, you ought to excuse yourself in the
most kind and civil way possible, without
even attempting to conceal that you are
occupied with important business. Nothing,"
continues the Little Civility, " is more
insipid and more troublesome than the conversation
of those persons who put everlasting
questions on the most trifling subjects,
and about which they have no need to
ask for information. It is contrary to good
manners to question persons of a superior
rank, except very rarely. When business or
circumstances compel you to interrogate
them, it must be done in the politest terms
and the most respectful expressions. It is a
rule of good manners, when you enter a
company, never to interrupt the conversation
by inquiring what it has been, and is about.
If you find that an explanation of the kind
would be the cause of tiresome or
embarrassing repetitions to others, you should keep
silence, try to catch the thread of the
discourse, and wait till a favourable opportunity
arrives of learning what you wish, without
annoying any one. Nevertheless, it is an act
of politeness to inform a new arrival, briefly
and quietly, what topic of conversation is
under discussion. It is very uncivil to inquire
of any one, what he has been doing, or what
he is going to do."

It is uncivil—disgustingly uncivil! And
yet there are impertinents, with brazen fronts
and eyes like those of a stuffed tabby cat,
who will draw every tooth in your head, if
you do not check them. It makes one's blood
boil to see cunning horse-leeches pumping
dry timid young persons, who dare not
yet say the bold word No. What, as Little
Civility indicates, can be a more offensive
breach of good manners than for even elderly
persons to acquire the habit of putting all
sorts of questions, point-blank or roundabout,
in season and out of season! Observe, I do
not ask a question. I take your judgment
for granted, and end the sentence with a note
of exclamation. No one asks the Queen a
question; and, in descending the social
scale, the rule, instead of losing all force
whatever, only becomes a little less stringent.
Even with permissible questions, there is a
great difference in the style of putting them.
If you are visiting any establishment, for
instruction or amusement, take care to get
the subject well-up beforehand; otherwise,
beware how you open your mouth. The
very first inquiry will cause your attendant
guide to regard you either with pleased
interest, or with weary indifference.

In some points, the French and English
printed rules agree, while our practice at
home does not accord with them. The Spirit
of Etiquette decrees that " A salutation must
always be returned, even to one of the very
lowest condition." Little Civility goes even
further: '' You ought to salute all the persons
whom you know, wherever you meet them.
In saluting an inferior, you ought not to wait
till you are forestalled by him. Well-meaning
persons, whose heart is in the right place,
endeavour to be beforehand in this respect
with every one belonging to their acquaintance.
Above all, it is becoming in children
to adopt the mode. To be hindered by pride
from returning a salutation is the sign of a
very foolish and narrow mind. Every person
of superior rank, endowed with noble
sentiments, may be known by the obliging manner
in which he fulfils this duty. In isolated
spots, it is usual to salute the strangers whom
you meet by chance. If the persons in whose
company you are salute others whom they
meet, you must follow their example, and
remain uncovered if they stop."

It is a solecism in English manners (which
may be accounted for as a remnant of feudal
times), that, while the labouring man, the
small farmer, and the country schoolmaster,
take off their hat to the squire, the squire
does not take off his hat to them. A
condescending nod, a patronising look, is no
equivalent return for a formal salute. Such a
style of politeness towards inferiors adopted
as a system, would in France be criticised by
the utterance of one single word—"cochon!"
It might be even dangerous there in troubled
times; and, in short, will not answer out of
England, unless perhaps in Russia. There
are people in the world whose fiery spirits
will blaze up fiercely, if you neglect to render
them like for like. If, for instance, you are
bent on a tour in Africa, you will find the
Arab vainglorious, humble, and arrogant by
turns; but his next door neighbour, the
Kabyle, remaining always wrapped up in
pride. This pride gives importance to the
slightest details of everyday life; imposes on
all a great simplicity of manners; and, for
every act of deference, exacts a scrupulous
return. Thus, the Arab kisses the hand and
the head of his superior with abundance of
compliments and salutations, caring but little
all the while whether his politeness is responded
to or not. The Kabyle does not compliment.
He kisses the hand or the head of the chieftain
or the aged man; but, whatever may be
the dignity or the age of the person to whom
this tribute of respect is offered, he must
return it instantly. Si Said Abbas, the
marabout (priest) of the Beni Haflif, was one
day in the Friday market of the Beni-Ourtilan.
A Kabyle, named Ben-Zeddam, went
up to him and kissed his hand. The
marabout, no doubt in an absent fit, omitted to