great outlines of good-breeding; but observation and usage can alone give
you the delicate touches, and the fine coloring. You will naturally
endeavor to show the utmost respect to people of certain ranks and
characters, and consequently you will show it; but the proper, the
delicate manner of showing that respect, nothing but observation and time
can give.

I remember that when, with all the awkwardness and rust of Cambridge
about me, I was first introduced into good company, I was frightened out
of my wits. I was determined to be, what I thought, civil; I made fine
low bows, and placed myself below everybody; but when I was spoken to, or
attempted to speak myself, 'obstupui, steteruntque comae, et vox faucibus
haesit'. If I saw people whisper, I was sure it was at me; and I thought
myself the sole object of either the ridicule or the censure of the whole
company, who, God knows, did not trouble their heads about me. In this
way I suffered, for some time, like a criminal at the bar; and should
certainly have renounced all polite company forever, if I had not been so
convinced of the absolute necessity of forming my manners upon those of
the best companies, that I determined to persevere and suffer anything,
or everything, rather than not compass that point. Insensibly it grew
easier to me; and I began not to bow so ridiculously low, and to answer
questions without great hesitation or stammering: if, now and then, some
charitable people, seeing my embarrassment, and being 'desoevre'
themselves, came and spoke to me, I considered them as angels sent to
comfort me, and that gave me a little courage. I got more soon afterward,
and was intrepid enough to go up to a fine woman, and tell her that I
thought it a warm day; she answered me, very civilly, that she thought so
too; upon which the conversation ceased, on my part, for some time, till
she, good-naturedly resuming it, spoke to me thus: "I see your
embarrassment, and I am sure that the few words you said to me cost you a