who hath friends, must also be friendly; and hence they assume the outward form of the virtue for the sake of the benefit it naturally confers. Those who want office in the gift of the people, will instinctively seek to be on as good terms as possible with the greatest number of persons. They see everybody, speak to everybody, and shake hands with everybody. The simple truth is, they are trying to make a good impression upon others; and for this purpose they put on the appearance of that which, when existing as the genuine article, is not a trade, but a virtue—not a plan to buy friends, but a grand excellence to merit them. They know the power of the virtue to win the kind regards of others. If one doubts the reality of this power, let him try the experiment of rudely treating his fellow-beings; let him withhold from them what they reasonably expect at his hands; let him neglect them when he ought to pay them some marks of pleasant attention, standing upon his dignity, and meeting others with cold and distant reserve; let him become an inveterate complainer, taxing his vocabulary for sharp and severe words; and it will be his own fault if he does not soon discover that human society has no tact for appreciating, except to condemn and despise, the peculiar fascinations of such a character. Such persons are positive nuisances in social life. No one wants to know them, or be on terms of intimacy with them. It is difficult not to hate them. If forced into their society, one feels like suing out a writ of ejectment to get rid of them. Friends they have not, and friends they do not deserve to have. They stand mostly alone in this world, the victims of their own folly, groaning under the weight of a penalty which is but a just retribution. They are too selfish and too mean to follow the dictates of a sensible self-love. The exact reverse of this their sad, and, as we must think, wicked experiment, would entail just the opposite results. God has so constituted the world that civility always pays well, both in direct enjoyment and in social benefits. While the cheapest of all the virtues, it is among the most profitable of all. Its presence or absence will exert a prodigious influence upon one's status among men. Its power to confer happiness on others. If we treat a man rudely, we shall certainly give him pain; if courteously, we shall as certainly afford him pleasure. Charity we do not need at all times; yet civility is an offering to our nature which we always need. Why, then, should we withhold so simple an offering to the comfort and happiness of others? Why not cast an air of serene and facile cheerfulness over our intercourse with men, making life pleasant by those respectful attentions, kind looks, and cordial recognitions, which are so welcome to all? Who has a right to move through society, as if he had no fellowship with, and no regard for human nature, chafing its sensibility, and leaving a wound on every heart he touches? The strictest civility toward all men is a solemn duty, demanded by the law of a common philanthropy, and certainly by that of Christian love. Practiced by all toward all, it would prevent a large part of the feuds and heart-burnings in our social life, which have their origin in trespasses against the laws of good treatment. It would make this a much happier world. If one's moral tempers be so acid, angular, and uncouth, that he cannot submit to so simple a regimen of personal excellence, then he may as well call himself a sinner at once, having moral tempers not fit for any human being to cherish. They are a curse to him, and a curse to others. The authority of the Bible. "Be courteous," is an explicit command written in the word of God. The law of Nature is thus supplemented and enforced by the law of Revelation. Christianity, moreover, in its practical effects on the heart, generates such amiable and affectionate tempers toward all men, especially those who are of the household of faith, that we ought to find a true gentleman or lady in every Christian. The passions which generally form the basis of "bad manners," are not only condemned by the gospel of Christ, but also corrected and cured by that gospel, and that, too, just in proportion to the degree of its felt power. When the Bible tells us to be "kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love, in honor preferring one another," and when it also tells us to "condescend to men of low estate," as well as to "honor the king," it simply requires us to be and to do what, in practice, will make all men strictly courteous toward all men. When the same book rebukes unjust distinctions, and commends the poor and the lowly to the consideration and kind regards of the rich, it aims a death-blow at a large part of the discourtesies and immoralities or deportment, which, unhappily, disfigure the scenes of our social life. When it sets man before us as a moral and immortal creature-made in the image of God, and endowed with imperial gifts -it presents to the eye of thought a spectacle of existence and destiny that may well move the tenderest feelings and elicit the most genial expressions of our nature. Who, seeing man as he is in himself, in his paternity, and in what he is to be-if himself feeling at all rightcan have it in his heart to deal coldly and roughly with such a being? If he can do this, especially if he can do it habitually, he may well doubt his own Christianity. It is quite certain that he is no specimen of the Christianity which is taught in the Bible, and so beautifully illustrated by the life of Christ. Such is an outline of the argument in favor of civility. Are there any objections sufficient to reverse the conclusion which it authorizes? Let us look at some of these objections. Is not this question of civility, after all, a very trifling matter? and if so, why reason so gravely about a minor point, in respect to which each one has a license to do as he pleases, consulting his own taste, and being held amenable to no ethical rules? We answer, that civility is no trifle, and that no man deems it such who has been stung to the very quick by some gross neglect or wanton insult. He is provoked, feeling himself to be injured. His sensibilities pro nounce such treatment to be anything but a trifle. As he feels, all men feel in like circumstances. Those who regard civility as a minor question of comparatively no consequence, had better, especially if they propose to act upon this theory, retire to the depths of an untrodden wilderness, and there exercise their free license upon rocks and trees-things that, fortunately for themselves, have no sensibility. Human feeling is a prodigious reality in our nature; and the rights of feeling are moral realities, speaking to men as imperative laws of action. Wantonly to trifle with these rights, is a pos itive wickedness, as really such as it is t blaspheme the name of God. What will become of one's independence if he rigidly conform his conduct to the stern requirements of civility? Who asks this question? No one, unless his independence be that of a fool. Some people are too independent to be decent. They "don't care," as they say, what others think, or how they feel. Such persons are guilty of "bad manners," often in a most offensive form; and this is about the sum of their so-called independence. Not infrequently they take great credit to themselves for possessing a quality which really makes them a social nuisance. Who is more independent than a clown? And yet, he is a clown after all That sort of independence which has no respect for the feelings of others, is the independence of an uncouth savage. The man who has it will confer a favor upon the world, and inflict no damage upon himself, if he will manage to keep it mostly out of sight. What about these unwelcome and degrading condescensions, to which one must subject himself in the effort to be courteous toward all men? Where will be the proper assertion of his dignity, especially when dealing with inferiors? That dignity which civility soils is really one of the most ridiculous and silly things that a silly man or woman ever paraded before the public eye. Persons of real dignity, who are truly elevated in the style of their thoughts and feelings, never deem themselves at all compromised by cour teous condescension to men of low estate. General Washington, upon receiving the expressions of civility from an humble negro, at once returned the same, taking off his hat, and respectfully bowing to him; and when an officer who was riding by his side expressed his surprise that he should give to a negro any such marks of attention, the General replied: "I should be very sorry if I had not as good manners as that negro." These distinctions among men-what will become of them if this law of civility should go into universal practice? We answer, that no sensible man having right feelings, can have any sympathy with or respect for those distinctions which are to be maintained by violations of this law. Such a system of caste in human society is a mere sham, utterly false in its fundamental ideas. It ought not to exist anywhere. There is no good reason why the tenderest courtesy should not be extended to the humblest man that breathes, with as much care as that which marks it when awarded to a prince. Man as such, as God has made him, is always a larger term than a king. The man is essential, while the king is but accidental. Must we then be on terms of equal familiarity and intimacy with all persons? By no means, unless such be our choice. One may have his special associates and friends, and at the same time be courteous toward other people. There is no inconsistency between the specialty of particular friendship and the universality of a generous and true-hearted civility. They are different things, but not things in collision with each other. How will this doctrine work when one dislikes the character and conduct of another? Shall he then be courteous? Why not? Can he not express that dislike, if it be proper to do so, without any violation of the law of civility? Are we licensed to abuse the man we dislike? Have we any right to insult the person who has offended us? He is still a man, and, as such, entitled to good treatment. If he be an enemy, this will be the surest way to change his temper, and turn him into a friend. The reasons for civility are much deeper and more important than the likes or dislikes of men. They are not contingent upon the variations of feeling. How shall we manage the matter, when others decline our civilities? This is a very rare case, seldom confronting us in real life; yet if one should meet such a case, the better way for himself, for his own sake, is to practice the virtue. If we are treated in an offensive and abusive manner by others, we shall always best show our own dignity and purity by not returning the same thing. If we must let them alone in order to be courteous, then let them alone. We should, however, never make their conduct the rule of our action. Is there no difference among men in reference to the question of rank and social standing, in view of which we should accord to them different treatment? Are we to treat superiors, inferiors, and equals in precisely the same way? Are we to make no distinction between the officers of government and men in the common walks of life? We reply, that there is no such distinction of age, or rank, or mental or moral qualities, as makes civility a duty to one, and the want of it allowable in another. The precise forms of its expression may vary in different cases: but the virtue itself in a natural and proper form should be practiced toward all men. It may be highly suitable to speak to a judge on the bench as we would not to a person in private life, or to a man venerable by reason of years as we would not to a child; yet the underlying principle which is applicable in the one case, is just as much so in the other. Our relations to others, or theirs to us, do not and cannot change the principle. That remains in all relations, never varying, except in the forms of expression. The virtue here recommended, is based upon a great many solid reasons. This virtue, while a just tribute to human nature as such, will in practice make a very large addition to the social significance and worth of one's life. In its absence no man can be a gentleman, and no woman a lady, in the true sense. The prime quality of a true gentleman, as of a true lady, is civility in its genuine form-civility resting on its reasons, and wrought into the life as a fixed and abiding trait of personal character. Without this all the studied arts of refinement, the parade, ceremony, and etiquette, upon which many labor with so much care, will be a simple failure, and they may amount to a burlesque upon human nature. They are as likely to be a stiff and unnatural thing as to supply any real grace. Nature glowing with the fervid and generous elements of a true civility, springing from the heart, and expressing itself spontaneously, is worth more than all of them put together. This is the cardinal quality to which other things may be added as a supplement, but for which there is no substitute. One may indeed read Chesterfield for a life-time on the art of "good manners; " he may become a perfect expert in all the punctilios of fashionable society; he may know exactly how to enter a drawingroom, and how to leave it, in the most graceful manner; he may have all the "small change" needful to a lively conversation; and yet, if destitute of that civility which has its seat in the heart, and comes forth as the pure and artless expression of its source, he will at best be but a painted disguise-a deception too palpable not to be detected. Who is improved by, or pleased with, those artificial manners that really mean nothing— those exquisite precisions and studied niceties that are almost ghosts, scarcely having a body, and certainly not a soulthose seeming flowers that never pour any natural fragrance? What is all this worth? Just nothing at all. It is simple foolery, often exceedingly sickening to others, and almost always embarrassing. The true article, with nature's signet upon it, is what the world relishes, and will certainly appreciate. THE BURMESE COURT AND ITS PHILOSOPHER. VOLTAIRE was called to the Court of Frederic the Great to enliven with his wit, and illumine with his philosophy, the palatial surroundings of this renowned warrior and would-be poet and sage. Louis the Fourteenth had set the monarchs of the world an example by collecting around him a brilliant coterie of dramatists, poets, and orators. Other renowned sovereigns have endeavored to heighten the attractions of their Courts by gathering around them men of rare wit and wisdom, even down to the late King William of Prussia, who almost annoyed Alexander von Humboldt with his pressing attentions. knowledge of the land and the people by new investigations, and especially to obtain a deeper knowledge of Buddhism in its native land, where he could draw from hitherto unknown sources more accurate information regarding this remarkable system of thought and religion. With such examples before him, why should not the King of Burmah have his philosopher? We propose to tell where he found his sage, how he, nolens volens, installed him, and what the man of wisdom saw and did in this singular position. This favored gentleman was Dr. Adolph Bastian, of Bremen, a German philosopher, who proposed, on his own account, to travel over Eastern Asia to enrich our Dr. Bastian seems to be one of those rare combinations of energy of character, comprehensiveness of culture, and determination of purpose, that one does not often meet outside of the "Fatherland." His tireless zeal and peculiar gift of seeing and hearing all that occurred around him, have enabled him, more than any other traveler in these interesting regions, to perform his task to the satisfaction of his nation, whose literature he has enriched by a most instructive and entertaining volume of his travels and experience. There is a romantic charm about the manner in which he met the "Goldenfooted Ruler," Mendun-Min. He had followed the waters of the Irawaddy till they brought him into the heart of Bur mah, and to the once celebrated city of Ava, which still figures in geographies as the great capital, with its treasures and jewels. But it is little more now than a solitary waste. The site of the city is turned into a broad park, in which flourish the majestic trees that once formed the ornament of the royal palace, and even this is crumbling to pieces, as are the triple walls around it, while the temples are fallen or dilapidated. The same story is told of the former capital, Amarapoora, which is now mainly inhabited by Chinese, whom the ruler is endeavoring to force away from their old haunts to populate his new city. This violent zeal for founding new capitals is by no means in consonance with the general conservatism of Eastern rulers, and the main reason that seems to have induced the King of Burmah to transfer his seat of power, was the fact that the English Embassy had penetrated with steamers to the walls of Amarapoora and Ava. Not liking to be exposed to the visits of these unwelcome intruders, he has built a new capital, called Mandalay, lying some distance inland, at the base of the Mandalay Mountains, and separated from the stream by a burning plain. The former capitals were picturesquely situated on the Irawaddy; the present one is built on a marshy soil, formerly devoted to the culture of rice, and being destitute of trees, is exposed to the scorching rays of the sun. The city is composed of three squares, the one built within the other. The King, with his extensive family and palace retinue, lives in the innermost square, where he is protected not only by the wall, but by high palisades. Within the square, around the palace and pleasure-houses of the princes, is a labyrinth of courts, gardens, and ponds, and there, also, are the highest tribunals, and the conference rooms of the ministers of state. The second square contains the houses of the officers of the government and army, and is rendered monotonous by the rectangular direction of the streets, and the dead and tedious aspect of the whole quarter. A high wall surrounds this inclosure, to which VOL. VI.-34 entrance is gained from without by four massive gates that are closed at night. Then at a respectful distance comes the outer city or suburbs. It is still without walls, and is the home of the people proper. Here are found the merchants, mechanics, and laborers, who lead a busy life in their markets and bazaars. But the palaces, walls, and temples of Mandalay, in spite of all their ornaments and the expense lavished upon them, appear as unfinished as if they belonged to a wandering race that might leave them to-morrow. At Rangoon, near the mouth of the river, Bastian had received a line introducing him to an Armenian in Mandalay. With this man he found a home, and made no secret of his intention to study Buddhism, and explore the neighboring territory in the direction of China. But, strange to say, for Farther India he found the newspaper an obstacle to his intentions. The press in Rangoon published his plans to the world, with a certain suspicion that found ready acceptance because of a difficulty just then between Burmah and the Chinese frontier. This incendiary sheet penetrated the triple walls of Mandalay, and the spiral tower within which stands the throne of the Burmese King. It was translated to him, and he imagined in the stranger secretly staying in Mandalay, without requesting an audience, a spy and conspirator. Bastian, in order to be free from annoyance, removed to a neighboring village, and hired a bamboo cabin near the park of a prince and the walls of a cloister. Here the philosopher, without troubling himself about the King, made himself comfortable. He found a gossiping neighborhood, from which he could learn much while chatting over tea and cigars, and in the abbot of the cloister a very learned man. But this good fortune was to be of short duration. The magistrate of the village inquired with daily-increasing zeal after his papers, and the certificate of residence that could only be procured of the Governor of Mandalay. He was obliged, therefore, to repair to this dignitary, whom he found sitting on his carpet sur |