The description, given in the little book before us, of what in Paris constitutes a genuine _salon_, is a tolerably correct one. "A _salon_," says Mme. Ancelot, "is not in the least like one of those places in a populous town, where people gather together a crowd of individuals unknown to each other, who never enter into communication, and who are where they are, momentarily, either because they expect to dance, or to hear music, or to show off the magnificence of their dress. This is not what can ever be called a _salon_. A _salon_ is an intimate and periodical meeting of persons who for several years have been in the habit of frequenting the same house, who enjoy each other's society, and who have some reason, as they imagine, to be happy when they are brought in contact. The persons who receive, form a link between the various persons they invite, and this link binds the _habitués_ more closely to one another, if, as is commonly the case, it is a woman of superior mind who forms the point of union. A _salon_, to be homogeneous, and to endure, requires that its _habitués_ should have similar opinions and tastes, and, above all, enough of the urbanity of bygone days to enable its frequenters to feel _at home_ with every one in it, without the necessity of a formal introduction. Formerly, this practice of speaking to persons you had not been presented to was a proof of good-breeding; for it was well known that in no house of any distinction would there be found a guest who was not worthy to be the associate of whoever was noblest and best. These habits of social intercourse gave a value to the intellectual and moral qualities of the individual, quite independent of his fortune or his rank; and in these little republics the real sovereign was _merit_."