children, gaily dressed, wend their way to the pagodas with offerings of rice and flowers. These are grand times for the dogs, who assemble round the various altars, and so soon as a donation in the form of a basket of boiled rice is emptied upon the large stone slab, up jump the dogs, and, unmolested, devour the food which they no doubt consider "meat fit for the gods."

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While we are at the pagodas, the priests or “ phoongies may be opportunely mentioned, and though it is difficult to condense into a page what could be written to fill a volume, yet any notice upon Burmah and its inhabitants would be incomplete which did not remark upon this righteous body, revered and respected as they are throughout the land. It is not too much to say that there as many "phoongies" in Rangoon as there are priests in Rome, all living in monasteries built either by general subscription, or by an individual who thenceforward is known by the honorary title of “ Kyoung Taga,”—“ Kyoung meaning a monastery, and "Taga' a builder or supporter. The rules which govern the daily life of a priest and the routine of a monastery, are strict in the extreme, in fact, almost severe. A woman is never allowed to approach "Kyoung," and a priest in turn is prohibited looking at a The smallest village has its priest, whose dwelling is built at a short distance from the houses, and is generally situated within a garden of plantain and fruit-trees. The lands used for such purposes are free from all tax.

woman.

A monastery, and every house in Burmah is built upon wooden piles, rising from two to twelve feet above the ground, so that frequently a person can walk and even ride under his house; indeed, the European infantry play skittles under their barracks in Rangoon. The object

of this peculiar construction is to ensure people sleeping above the malaria which rises at night, and clings to within a couple of feet of the ground. Even where the people cannot afford to live themselves in anything better than mat huts, the village phoongie is provided with a substantial teak-built residence. His flock provides him with every want and almost every luxury, little boys to fan hin when within, and to carry handsome umbrellas over his bare shaven head when without, during the heat of the day; silver boxes containing betel nut for him to chew; silver goblets for him to drink out of (though strictly speaking his hands or his thoughts should never be contaminated by the touch of silver or gold in any form); matting of the finest texture laid about his floor; the exterior of his monastery ornamented with wood carvings, often of a very costly description; and when it is added that his food and raiment are also found him, it is not to be wondered at that "there are as many phoongies in Rangoon as priests in Rome.'

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I will not say, that men take to the yellow robe (which distinguishes the priesthood) from any but the purest motives, yet it is not improbable that greater numbers would return to an ordinary vocation in life, "become men again, as the Burmese express it (which can be done), if it was not for the comfort in which they are kept, the freedom from all care which their manner of life ensures them, and the respect accorded to them by the flock, putting aside the nobler and higher aspirations, which I am confident do influence the lives of the majority. It is a fact redounding to their credit, that there is not a man in the country who is unable at least to read and write. This state of things is brought about by classes being held daily in the monasteries, where all the village lads attend,

and are instructed by the priests in reading, writing, arithmetic, and the principles of the Buddhist faith. These priests do not interfere in elections, nor do they take any part in worldly affairs of any description, the consequence of which is а willing submission to established authority.

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With the influence they have over such an excitable people as the Burmese, one dreads to consider what the present state and prospects of the province might have been, had they inflamed the minds of the people against us, and been continually encouraging treasons and exciting rebellion. In travelling through the country, I invariably after dinner used to pay a visit to the village priest, apologizing on entering his presence for not taking off my boots. He always greeted me kindly, saying he knew that it was not our custom, and produced his best chair or mat for me to sit upon. They always (adopting our fashion) shook hands with me, and frequently half embraced me, display of affection which it would have been more gratifying to have simply been assured of. They are fond of conversing with Europeans, and missionaries cannot assign as a reason for the want of success attending their labours amongst the Burmese that the priests have been unwilling to listen to what they would say, or even to fully discuss with them the merits of their respective religions. Whatever may be the defects of the Buddhist faith, to the Burmese it is thoroughly comprehensible; whereas the mysteries of our own, the missionaries are unable to explain to his inquiring mind. "Why should I," says the phoongie, renounce the creed held sacred by us for many thousands of years, and

adopt yours, when in mine I find all the merits of yours, with none of its bewildering doctrines. As regards the laws given with reference to the duty we owe to our neighbour, ours being stricter, are even more conducive to the well-being of society than are those of the Christian. And then which religion has the greatest legitimate hold upon the people, and for which is the most universal respect shown by rich and poor in the manner of their lives? Drunkenness and prostitution were unknown, except in name, until you landed on our shores, and, indeed, are still so, except in towns where Europeans collect; your Government makes revenue from the one, and licences the other; it not only reserves to itself the growth of opium, but it sells it to the people, knowing full well, as its officers do, that its introduction into a locality is certain to bring with it vice of every description; that the opening of an opium farm' is repugnant to the feelings of every respectable inhabitant, is the harbinger of misery to individuals, and disquietude to all peaceable people. I see nothing in your religion to seduce me from mine."

Thus speaks the phoongie to the missionary. Since the annexation of the province, we have undoubtedly added much to the material prosperity of the country; but whether our rule, and the example set by individual Europeans, has tended to strengthen or weaken morality amongst the people, is a question which I fear cannot be answered in the affirmative. However, taking the Burmese as they are now, there is not a more domestic, peace-loving, and moral people, I believe, upon the earth.

THE question as to how far it may be in our own power to increase the spirit of contentment, and consequently lessen sorrow, is assuredly one of sufficient importance to each individual mind for it to claim some share of attention. Although not not inclined, like Epicurus, to assert that pleasure is the "chief good," yet any one who has studied the world's history, or looked into the depths of the human heart, will find it impossible to deny that, from the earliest ages, the motive power influencing the majority of mankind, both in public movements and private actions, has been the desire to procure blessings either for themselves or for others: whether it be the philanthropist spend ing his life in efforts to benefit his fellow-creatures, or the philosophical egotist, whose thoughts begin and end with self; whether it be the devotee who, with stoical firmness, denies himself the most innocent pleasures, or the voluptuary indulging every appetite, and gratifying every passion, with all the actuating principle is the same, the desire for happiness real or imaginary, either present or to come.

We all, by an instinct of our nature, delight in pleasure, and shrink from pain, either physical or mental, and it would be well for us if we could. bear in mind that it is greatly within every one's power, in going through life, to cultivate the former, and diminish the latter, by

a sober contemplation of surrounding circumstances with a view to discovering what is to be chosen, and what avoided; and by banishing from the mind all distressing ideas, the harbouring of which can be of no benefit to ourselves or others. If people would only learn to realize it, happiness depends far less on external, than on internal sources; both pleasure and its converse being, in many cases, rather the result of our mental bias, and habit of viewing things, than in the nature of the events themselves. "Every spot in life's sunshine is," to quote Carlyle, "but the shadow of ourselves."

We may define pleasure as the result of things being suited to our mind, contentment as the bringing our ideas to fit the condition in which we are placed; the former may not often be at our command, but the latter always is. Let Fortune 'rule the weak and vain amongst mankind. Over those who view life sensibly this fickle goddess should have no power. It is not nearly so sad a thing to have troubles as to be incapable of bearing them, for what dignity can there be in the mind that is elated or depressed at the veriest trifles? Undoubtedly the more refined a man's nature, and the brighter his genius, the more acutely sensitive will he often be to all emotions of pleasure or pain; but surely an intellect of a high order, a mind trained to view

things philosophically, should have in itself a power to rise above the trivialities, the insignificant daily worries, that, to the morbid and the fatuous, seem almost insurmountable.

It may be said, "All this is mere assertion, but we want demonstration; prove to us that the happiness or misery of a man's life is not a thing over which his will can have no influence; suggest some means by which we may increase the one and lessen the other; be practical, give us a little more than mere vague generalizing, and we will begin to believe and hope that something in the way of benefit is to be derived from your words." Well, let us inquire into the nature, and possible remedy for some of the ills to which mankind is liable; let us seek out the source, and if possible suggest a cure, for the low spirits, a curb for the discontents to which, despite the smiling masks that go about the world, so many hearts are liable.

If we trace depression to its real source, what is it after all but a form of self-love, or rather selfcompassion? When grieved and anxious, or suffering from misfortunes, small or great, what wise man sits down to mourn over his sad condition? Will he not rather try to trace the events or circumstances that produced it to their final cause, if so be that he may have the power to avoid the like troubles in future? Will he not ask himself, "Can I by my own efforts mend matters ?" If reason answer "Yes," he will set about it at once, activity itself must be a solace; but if a thing is inevitable, he reconciles himself to it, and wastes no time in useless vague regrets. Others have the same troubles or worse, and what are we, that we should expect to be free?

All men love comparisons, but let it be our habit to measure our

condition with that of persons less fortunate than ourselves, rather than to compare it with those who, in our estimation, are happier. Every wretchedness that we see others suffer, and we ourselves are free from, is a blessing, and therefore should be a source of thankfulness. When suffering from real or fancied ills, let us seek out those who are more miserable than ourselves, and it will go hard with us if, by the time we have done something to relieve their trouble, we do not find that our own has dis

appeared. Whether it speaks well for human nature or not, it is an undoubted fact, that a contemplation of the condition of those less fortunate than ourselves is a source of satisfaction. Napoleon, who was morbidly vain and sensitive on the subject of his height, in contemplating on one occasion, a picture of Alexander the Great, remarked more than once, with an air of self-congratulation, "Alexander the Great was shorter than I am-much shorter," and no doubt there was consolation to him in the thought.

Those who are inclined to be discontented, are too apt to contemplate the lot of others only to envy their fancied happiness; like Damocles, they find some Dionysius, whom, in their folly, they pronounce to be the happiest man on earth, till chance, perhaps, reveals to them that troubles greater than any they are called upon to bear are hanging above the head of that one who seemed so fortunate, and whom they thought so blest beyond desert. Truly, if we could look into the hearts of our fellowcreatures, there are few indeed whose destiny we should be willing to take in preference to our own. The hungry man, eating some garden stuff which had been thrown away, and exclaiming, "None is surely so wretched as I," looked round by chance, and

saw a man following, picking up, and devouring the leaves which he had rejected; and so, not one of us need more than turn his head to find, in like manner, a motive for thankfulness-a cure for discontent.

Crede quod habes, et habes, is a truer saying than at first sight it might appear; while one ridicules the act, it is impossible to help envying the spirit of that ingenious philosopher who turned his shirt, and observed, with satisfaction, "What a comfort there is in clean linen!" Imagination is a veritable Aladdin's lamp to those who accustom themselves to look on the bright side of things; to those who, on the other hand, are in the habit of going to meet troubles, an incalculable amount of misery is caused by the evils that have never happened, though both religion and philosophy still preach to them the folly that it is to take an undue thought of what the morrow may or may not bring.

How much better would it be for us again, if we could accustom ourselves to think of what we have, rather than of what we want; the overvaluing of those things that we desire prevents our having a just appreciation of the blessings we possess, and it is very rarely that our horizon is so dark as to make it impossible for us to find consolation in the thought of how much worse our condition has been, or at least might be, than it is at present. It is not easy this, for in the mind's perspective the nearest things are always magnified, and we wish for anything, everything, rather than the inconvenience from which we now are suffering; it takes men long to learn how far better it is "to bear those ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of." And yet if we allow ourselves to be so depressed by present cares as to be unable

to look beyond them, in what are we superior to the unthinking, unreasoning creatures who live but in to-day, and with whom instinct takes the place of intellect?

However heavy sorrow seems, joy must sooner or later follow it; in a month's time, if we remember our present condition, it will be to wonder what we could have found to grieve about, and there is always consolation in the thought that as in the darkness of night, the hearing is intensified, the pupil of the eye dilates, the senses all seem quickened, so in the depths of sorrow, are men's characters developed, and their minds gain strength under the treatment of that tonic pain; life's bitters always, too, give zest to the pleasures that succeed, for existence is so sweet to none as to those who have experienced the very depths of bitterness, and who therefore know how to value present ease. If it were possible for us to go through life without tasting of real anxiety or trouble, we should soon be overwhelmed with fancied cares, which are far the worst to bear, and pleasure itself would soon so pall upon us, as to become in time, first weariness, and then an actual pain.

Troubles that arise in the imagination it is wiser not to dwell upon or talk of to another, distresses of this nature will sooner die a natural death if not made much of; real trials, on the contrary, are often lessened by the sympathy of those we love. The man who gave it as a rule to his disciples. always to keep sorrow locked within their own breasts could have known little, we think, of the blessedness of either giving or receiving sympathy.

Are we poor, and do we wish for wealth? It has been wisely said, "There be as many blessings on this side riches as beyond them." Wealth and rank may not be at our