CHAPTER XI {16}--ON BASHFULNESS.--A CHARACTER.--HIS OPINION ON THAT
SUBJECT



There is some rust about every man at the beginning; though in some
nations (among the French for instance) the ideas of the
inhabitants, from climate, or what other cause you will, are so
vivacious, so eternally on the wing, that they must, even in small
societies, have a frequent collision; the rust therefore will wear
off sooner: but in Britain it often goes with a man to his grave;
nay, he dares not even pen a hic jacet to speak out for him after
his death.

"Let them rub it off by travel," said the baronet's brother, who was
a striking instance of excellent metal, shamefully rusted. I had
drawn my chair near his. Let me paint the honest old man: 'tis but
one passing sentence to preserve his image in my mind.

He sat in his usual attitude, with his elbow rested on his knee, and
his fingers pressed on his cheek. His face was shaded by his hand;
yet it was a face that might once have been well accounted handsome;
its features were manly and striking, a dignity resided on his
eyebrows, which were the largest I remember to have seen. His
person was tall and well-made; but the indolence of his nature had
now inclined it to corpulency.

His remarks were few, and made only to his familiar friends; but