personal than week-days and addresses? That can hardly be, or else the
Society of Friends could not have so absolutely substituted First Day
and Second Day, etc., for the old heathen names of our week-days, and
could not have successfully refused all name-honor whatsoever in
addressing their fellow-mortals.

But titles have come back full-tide in the third French Republic, one
and indivisible, so that anybody may wear them, though the oldest
nobility are officially and legally known only by their Christian and
family names, without any prefix. This is practically returning to
Citoyen and Citoyenne, and it almost gives us the courage to suggest the
experiment of Citizen and Citizenne as a proper address on the letters
of American republicans. The matter might be referred to a Board,
something like that of the Simplified Spelling Board, though we should
not like to be included in a committee whose members must be prepared to
take their lives in their hands, or, short of death, to suffer every
manner of shame at the hands of our journalists and their
correspondents. Short of the adoption of Citizen and Citizenne, we have
no choice but to address one another by our given names and surnames
merely, unless we prefer to remain in our present confusion of Mr. and
Esq. In a very little while, we dare say, no lady or gentleman would
mind being so addressed on his or her letters; but perhaps some men and
women might. Now that we no longer use pets names so much, except among
the very highest of our noblesse, where there are still Jimmies and
Mamies, we believe, plain Gladys Smythe or Reginald Johnes would be the
usual superscription. Such an address could bring no discomfort to the
recipient (a beautiful word, very proper in this connection), and if it
could once be generally adopted it would save a great deal of anxiety.
The lady's condition could be indicated by the suffix Spinster, in the
case of her being single; if married, the initials of her husband's
given names could be added.

III

DRESSING FOR HOTEL DINNER

Among the high excitements of a recent winter in New York was one of
such convulsive intensity that in the nature of things it could not last
very long. It affected the feminine temperament of our public with
hysterical violence, but left the community the calmer for its throes,
and gently, if somewhat pensively, smiling in a permanent ignorance of
the event. No outside observer would now be able to say,