A physician will put Dr. before or M.D. after the name, and an officer in the army or navy may add his title; but for militia officers to do so is absurd.

If you call upon a lady, who invites you to be seated, place a chair for her, and wait until she takes it before you sit down yourself.

Never sit beside a lady upon a sofa, or on a chair very near her own, unless she invites you to do so.

If a lady enters the room where you are making a call, rise, and remain standing until she is seated. Even if she is a perfect stranger, offer her a chair, if there is none near her.

You must rise if a lady leaves the room, and remain standing until she has passed out.

If you are engaged in any profession which you follow at home, and receive a caller, you may, during the daytime, invite him into your library, study, or the room in which you work, and, unless you use your pen, you may work while he is with you.

When you receive a visitor, meet him at the door, offer a chair, take his hat and cane, and, while speaking of the pleasure the call affords you, show, by your manner, that you are sincere, and desire a long call.

Do not let your host come with you any farther than the room door if he has other visitors; but if you are showing out a friend, and leave no others in the parlor, you should come to the street door.

A few hints from an English author, will not be amiss in this place. He says:—

“Visits of condolence and congratulation must be made about a week after the event. If you are intimate with the person on whom you call, you may ask, in the first case, for admission; if not, it is better only to leave a card, and make your ‘kind inquiries’ of the servant, who is generally primed in what manner to answer them. In visits of congratulation you should always go in, and be hearty in your congratulations. Visits of condolence are terrible inflictions to both receiver and giver, but they may be made less so by avoiding, as much as consistent with sympathy, any allusion to the past. The receiver does well to abstain from tears. A lady of my acquaintance, who had lost her husband, was receiving such a visit in her best crape. She wept profusely for some time upon the best of broad-hemmed cambric handkerchiefs, and then turning to her visitor, said: ‘I am sure you will be glad to hear that Mr. B. has left me most comfortably provided for.’ Hinc illæ lacrymæ. Perhaps they would have been more sincere if he had left her without a penny. At the same time, if you have not sympathy and heart enough to pump up a little condolence, you will do better to avoid it, but take care that your conversation is not too gay. Whatever you may feel, you must respect the sorrows of others.