when no sequent evil is to be apprehended, than to be rendered uncomfortable by an ill-founded pride.  It is therefore better to carry on an easy and civil conversation.  A snuff-box, or some polite accommodation rendered, may serve for an opening.  Talk only about generalities,—­the play, the roads, the weather.  Avoid speaking of persons or politics, for, if the individual is of the opposite party to yourself, you will be engaged in a controversy:  if he holds the same opinions, you will be overwhelmed with a flood of vulgar intelligence, which may soil your mind.  Be reservedly civil while the colloquy lasts, and let the acquaintance cease with the occasion.

When you are introduced to a gentleman do not give your hand, but merely bow with politeness:  and if you have requested the introduction, or know the person by reputation, you may make a speech.  I am aware that high authority might easily be found in this country to sanction the custom of giving the hand upon a first meeting, but it is undoubtedly a solecism in manners.  The habit has been adopted by us, with some improvement for the worse, from France.  When two Frenchmen are presented to one another, each presses the other’s hand with delicate affection.  The English, however, never do so:  and the practice, if abstractly correct, is altogether inconsistent with the caution of manner which is characteristic of their nation and our own.  If we are to follow the French, in shaking hands with one whom we have never before seen, we should certainly imitate them also in kissing our intimate male acquaintances.  If, however, you ought only to bow to a new acquaintance, you surely should do more to old ones.  If you meet an intimate friend fifty times in a morning, give your hand every time,—­an observance of propriety, which, though worthy of universal adoption, is in this country only followed by the purists in politeness.  The requisitions of etiquette, if they should be obeyed at all, should be obeyed fully.  This decent formality prevents acquaintance from being too distant, while, at the same time, it preserves the “familiar” from becoming “vulgar.”  They may be little things, but

“These little things are great to little men.”

Goldsmith.

CHAPTER IV.  THE DRAWING-ROOM.  COMPANY.  CONVERSATION.

The grand object for which a gentleman exists, is to excel in company.  Conversation is the mean of his distinction,—­the drawing-room the scene of his glory.

When you enter a drawing-room, where there is a ball or a party, you salute the lady of the house before speaking to any one else.  Even your most intimate friends are enveloped in an opaque atmosphere until you have made your bow to your entertainer.  We must take occasion here to obelize a custom which prevails too generally in this country.  The company enter the back door of the back parlour, and the mistress