walking, they should be moved gently but firmly from the hips, so that the upper part of the body may remain in the same position. How often from my window have I been able to mark a man by his walk! One comes striding stoutly like a captain on quarter-deck; another shambles his feet along the pavement; a third swings his arms violently; a fourth carries them bowed out before him like a dancing-master of the old school; a fifth turns out his huge feet at an angle of forty-five; another jerks forward his pointed toes like a soldier at drill; another sways his body from side to side; another looks almost hump-backed, as he moves heavily on; one more saunters listlessly with his hands in his pockets; this one moves his arms back behind him, and that one carries them stiff and straight as iron bars, with his fists clenched like knobs at the end thereof. The feet must be turned outwards very little indeed; the arms should be carried easily and very slightly bent at the sides, and in walking should be moved a little, without swinging them; and the shoulders should never be shrugged up. Avoid stiffness on the one hand, lounging on the other. Be natural and perfectly at your case, whether in walking or sitting, and aspire to calm confidence rather than loftiness.

There is, however, one good habit which must not be overlooked. You should never speak without a slight smile, or at least a beam of good will in your eyes, and that to all, whether your equals or inferiors To the latter it is especially necessary, and often wins you more love than the most liberal benevolence. But this smile should not settle into a simper, nor, when you are launched in a conversation, should it interfere with the earnest

ness of your manner. To a lady it should be more marked than to a man.

In listening, again, you should manifest a certain interest in what a person is saying; and however little worthy of your attention, you should not show that you think it so by the toss of your head or the wandering of your eyes. In speaking to any one you should look them in the face, for the eyes always aid the tongue, but you should not carry this to the extent of wriggling yourself forward in order to catch their eyes, if there happen to be another person between you.

It is painful to see the want of ease with which some men sit on the edge of a chair; but at the same time the manner in which others throw themselves back and stretch forward their legs savors too much of familiarity. You may cross your legs if you like, but not hug your knees nor your toes. Straddling a chair, and tilting it up may be pardonable in a bachelor's rooms, but not in a lady's drawing-room. Then, if you carry a walking-stick or umbrella in the street, you should avoid swinging them violently about, or tucking them under the arm. Both are dangerous to your neighbors, for in the one case you may inadvertently strike a person and get into as great trouble as the individual who was brought up the other day for assaulting a woman with a cricket-bat, which he affirmed he was merely swinging about carelessly; in the other, the point of your stick may run into some unfortunate creature's eye.

Foreigners talk with their arms and hands as auxiliaries to the voice. The custom is considered vulgar by us calm Englishmen, and a Parisian, who laughs at our

"dis

radies' dressing, will still admit that our men are tingu ́s, mais très distingu ́s." If the face follows the words, and you allow, without grimacing, your eyes and sinile to express what you are saying, you have no need to act it with the hands, but, if you use them at all, it should be very slightly and gracefully, never bringing down a fist upon the table, nor slapping one hand upon another, nor poking your fingers at your interlocutor. Pointing, too, is a habit to be avoided, especially pointing with the thumb over the shoulder, which is an inelegant action. In short, while there is no occasion to be stolid or constrained, you should not be too lively in your actions, and even if led away by the enthusiasm of an argument, should never grow loud, rant, or declaim. No manner is more disagreeable than that of vehement affirmation or laying down the law.

With these remarks I may pass to consider certain habits which are more or less annoying to your neighbors. First, there is that odious habit of touching the nose and ears with the fingers, for which there is no excuse. Every part of the person should be properly tended in the dressing-room, never in the drawing-room, and for this reason picking the teeth, however fashionable it may once have been, scratching the head, the hands, or any part of the body, are to be avoided. Mr. Curzon tells us that at Erzeroum it is quite the fashion to scratch the bites of a little insect as common there as in certain London hotels, and it is even considered a delicate attention to catch the lively creatures as they perch on the dress or shoulders of your partner. Fortunately we are not tempted to perform such attentions in this country; but if you have the misfortune to be bitten or stung by any insect, you must

endure the pain without scratching the bite in company These same little insects being of very disagreeable origin, are not even spoken of with us. Biting the nails, again, is not only a dirty habit, but one which soon disfigures the fingers. So too in blowing your nose, you must not make the noise of a trumpet, but do it gently and quietly; and, when you sneeze, use your handkerchief. I do not go the length of saying that you must repress a sneeze entirely. There is a pleasant custom, still universal in Germany and Italy, and retained among the peasantry in some parts of England, of blessing a person who lias sneezed, benedicite, Gott segne sie, and "bless you," being the terms used, probably in the hope that the prayer may keep you from cold.

Sneezing brings me to snuffing, which is an obsolete custom, retained only by a few old gentlemen, and as it is a bad one, no young man should think of reviving it.

But what shall I say of the fragrant weed which Raleigh taught our gallants to puff in capacious bowls; which a royal pedant denounced in a famous "Counterblast; which his flattering laureate, Ben Jonson, ridiculed to please his master: which our wives and sisters protest gives rise to the dirtiest and most unsociable habit a man can indulge in; of which some fair favorers declare that they love the smell, and others that they will never marry an indulger (which, by the way, they generally end in loing); which has won a fame over more space and among better men than Noah's grape has ever done; which doctors still dispute about, and boys still get sick over; but which is the solace of the weary laborer; the support of the ill-fed; the refresher of over-wrought brains; the soother of angry fancies; the boast of the exquisite; the

excuse of the idle; the companion of the philosopher; and the tenth muse of the poet. I will go neither into the medical nor the moral question about the dreamy, calming cloud. I will content myself so far with saying what may be said for everything that can bless and curse mankind, that, in moderation, it is at least harmless; but what is moderate and what is not, must be determined in each individual case, according to the habits and constitution of the subject. If it cures asthma, it may destroy digestion; if it soothes the nerves, it may, in excess, produce a chronic irritability.

But I will regard it in a social point of view; and, first, as a narcotic, notice its effects on the individual character. I believe, then, that in moderation it diminishes the violence of the passions, and particularly that of the temper. Interested in the subject, I have taken care to seek instances of members of the same family having the same violent tempers by inheritance, of whom the one has been calmed down by smoking, and the other gone on in his passionate course. I believe that it induces a habit of calm reflectiveness, which causes us to take less prejudiced, perhaps less zealous views of life, and to be therefore less irritable in our converse with our fellow creatures. I am inclined to think that the clergy, the squirearchy, and the peasantry are the most prejudiced and most violent classes in this country; there may be other reasons for this, but it is noteworthy that these are the classes which smoke least. On the other hand, I confess that it induces a certain lassitude, and a lounging, easy mode of life, which are fatal both to the precision of manners and the vivacity of conversation. The mind of a smoker is contemplative rather than active; and if the