There is not a secret so aiding to the progress of sociality, as to
get master of this SHORT HAND, and to be quick in rendering the
several turns of looks and limbs with all their inflections and
delineations, into plain words. For my own part, by long habitude,
I do it so mechanically, that, when I walk the streets of London, I
go translating all the way; and have more than once stood behind in
the circle, where not three words have been said, and have brought
off twenty different dialogues with me, which I could have fairly
wrote down and sworn to.

I was going one evening to Martini's concert at Milan, and, was
just entering the door of the hall, when the Marquisina di F- was
coming out in a sort of a hurry: --she was almost upon me before I
saw her; so I gave a spring to once side to let her pass.--She had
done the same, and on the same side too; so we ran our heads
together: she instantly got to the other side to get out: I was
just as unfortunate as she had been, for I had sprung to that side,
and opposed her passage again.--We both flew together to the other
side, and then back,--and so on: --it was ridiculous: we both
blush'd intolerably: so I did at last the thing I should have done
at first;--I stood stock-still, and the Marquisina had no more
difficulty. I had no power to go into the room, till I had made
her so much reparation as to wait and follow her with my eye to the
end of the passage. She look'd back twice, and walk'd along it
rather sideways, as if she would make room for any one coming up
stairs to pass her.--No, said I--that's a vile translation: the
Marquisina has a right to the best apology I can make her, and that
opening is left for me to do it in;--so I ran and begg'd pardon for
the embarrassment I had given her, saying it was my intention to
have made her way. She answered, she was guided by the same