In the character of Host, much is requisite that would be unsuitable elsewhere, since the youngest and most modest man must, of necessity, then take the lead. Thus, when you have guests at dinner, some care and tact are required in the simple matter, even, of disposing of your visitors with due regard to proper precedents. Of course, when there are only men present, you desire him whom you wish to distinguish, to conduct the mistress of the mansion to the table, and are, yourself, the last to enter the dining-room. When there are ladies, the place of honor accorded to age, rank, or by some temporary relative circumstance, is designated as being at your right hand, and you precede your other guests, in attendance upon such a lady. A stranger lady, for whom an entertainment is given, should be met by her host before she enters the drawing-room, and conducted to the hostess. A gentleman, under similar circumstances, must be received at the door of the reception-room. In both instances, introductions should at once be given to those who are invited to meet such guests.

Persons living in large cities may, if they possess requisite pecuniary means, always procure servants so fully acquainted with the duties properly belonging to them as to relieve themselves, when they have visitors, from all attention to the details of the table. But it is only in the best appointed establishments that hospitality does not enjoin some regard to these matters. It may be unfashionable to keep an eye to the comfort of one's friends, when we are favored with their company, to consult their tastes, to humor their peculiarities, to convince them, by a thousand nameless acts of consideration and deference, that we have pleasure in rendering them honor due;—this may not be in strict accordance with the cold ceremony of modern fashion, but it, nevertheless, illustrates one of the most beautiful of characteristics—one ranked by the ancients as a virtue—Hospitality!

Permit me, also, to remind you that sometimes the most worthy people are not high-bred—not familiar with conventional proprieties; that they even have a dread of them, on account of this ignorance; and that they are, therefore, not fit subjects towards whom to display strict ceremony, or from whom to expect it. But always remember, that, though they may not understand conventionalisms, they will fully appreciate genuine kindness, the talismanic charm that will always place the humblest and most self distrustful guest at ease. And never let a vulgar, degrading fear of compromising your claims to gentility, tempt you to the inhumanity of wounding the feelings of the humblest of your humble friends!

If you have a large rout at your house, it will, necessarily, be impossible for you to render special attention to each guest; but you should, notwithstanding, quietly endeavor to promote the enjoyment of the company, by bringing such persons together as are best suited to the appreciation of each other's society, by drawing out the diffident, tendering some civility to an elderly, or particularly unassuming visitor, and, in short, by a manner that, without in any degree savoring of over-solicitude, or bustling self-importance, shall save you from a fate similar to that of a gentleman of whom I lately read the following anecdote:

A stranger at a large party, observing a gentleman leaning upon the corner of a mantel-piece, with a peculiarly melancholy expression of countenance, accosted him thus:—"Sir, as we both seem to be entire strangers to all here, suppose we both return home?" He addressed his host!

In general society, do not let your pleasure in the conversation of one person whom you may chance to meet, or your being attached to a pleasant party, tempt you to forget the respect due to other friends, who may be present. Married ladies, whose hospitalities you have shared, strangers who possess a claim upon you, through your relations with mutual friends, gentlemen whose politeness has been socially extended to you, should never be rudely overlooked, or discourteously neglected. Such a manner would indicate rather a vulgar eagerness for selfish enjoyment than the collected self-possession, the well-sustained good-breeding, of a man of the world. Do not let a sudden attack of the modesty suitable to youth and insignificance, induce you to regard those proprieties as of no importance in your particular case—exclaiming, "What's Hecuba to me, or I to Hecuba?" Believe me, no one is so unimportant as to be unable to give pleasure by politeness; and no one having a place in society, has a right to self-abnegation in this respect.


"Husband, do you know a young Mr. V——, in society here—a lawyer, I think?" inquired a lady-friend of mine, of a distinguished member of the Legislature of our State, with whom I was dining, at his hotel.

"V——? That I do! and a right clever fellow he is:—why, my dear?"

"Oh, nothing, I met him somewhere the other morning, and was struck with his pleasing manners. This morning I was really indebted to his politeness. You know how slippery it was—well, I had been at Mrs. S——'s reception, and was just hesitating on the top of the steps, on coming away, afraid to call the man from his horses, and fearful of venturing down alone, when Mr. V—— ran up, like a chamois-hunter, and offered his assistance. He not only escorted me to the sleigh, but tucked up the furs, gave me my muff, and inquired for your health with such good-humor and cordiality as really quite won my heart!"