Board of Control-nominally their chiefs | ing sense of important functions to be -and the full scope and bearing of the distinction we have been drawing will become startlingly apparent. Lord Broughton, Mr. Vernon Smith, Lord Stanley, and Sir C. Wood are found, or are deemed, strong enough for the latter post; for the former we need, and we find, men who can "administer government and war with more than the capacity of Richelieu ; men who are either great by nature, but whose greatness would never have been developed or made manifest at home, or who became great by the mere weight and grandeur of the work which is given them to do. And this same signal superiority of governing ability is found, and has been shown whenever the emergency has called for it, in the officials who have ruled minor Indian provinces, as well and as richly, perhaps, as in those who were appointed to rule the entire vast dependency. The work has made the men, probably, but then they must have had in them the material out of which such commanding statesmen could be made. Of the long list of men who have governed our Indian empire-all selected from the same class of politicians as our disappointing ministers at homewe cannot recall the names of more than two whom any one could designate as having shown themselves signally unequal or unfit for the position. As a rule they have proved what English statesmanship may become under favoring conditions, and have been men of whom any country might be proud. Whether the absence of forecasting and commanding statesmanship in Great Britain-an absence which has been admitted and explained-is a matter to be deplored, may perhaps admit of discussion. But we are not going to discuss it now. We shall content ourselves here with two remarks on the subject. It may probably be said of statesmanship, as of administration, that unless it is of a very high order indeed, unless it is sound in its principles, and comprehensive in its wisdom to a rare degree, the less it forecasts and commands the better. We have had more than one memorable warning in recent history of the mischief and futility of looking far beforehand where the vision is feeble and confused, of that fussy and overshadow discharged, and an imposing station to be adequately filled, which is not sustained by any inherent dignity or any corresponding powers. In political matters, especially in foreign politics, it is rarely well to take too anxious thought for the morrow; many of the knottiest problems, if left alone, will solve themselves; many of the most perplexing will suggest and even dictate their own solution when the time for necessary action shall arrive. The Danish imbroglio especially may read our politicians a wholesome homily on the wisdom of inaction. Twelve years ago our British statesmen, with the most amiable and disinterested views, laid their heads together with other honest and sagacious heads to provide for a contingency which was certain to arise, and which was likely to disturb European peace. They entered into a solemn convention, and arranged a deliberate plan. The integrity of Denmark, the succession to the duchies, and the peace of Europe seemed to be assured, and English statesmen went to sleep with a smile of benevolent self-complacency on their lips. Eleven years passed away; the foreseen contingency arose; the solemn convention and the deliberate plan were ruthlessly and insolently torn to pieces; the very war and dismemberment which were to have been precluded came to pass in their worst form; the integrity of the Danish dominions, which the treaty of 1852 was to have secured, has been more utterly destroyed than it could have been had that treaty never been designed; and Great Britain, anxious, honest, blundering old soul, found herself in the position, first, of proposing in congress a plan for that very dismemberment she had persuaded the other great powers of Europe twelve years before to join her in denouncing as a thing not to be permitted, and secondly (if floating rumors be true), of urging the nomination as heir and possessor of the Duchies of Schleswig-Holstein of that very Duke of Augustenberg whose claims it was her especial business in the treaty of 1852 to negative, adjudicate against, and buy off. It is no doubt possible enough, in home as in foreign politics, to look too far ahead, to be too anxious to forestall her own defence and her own guidance, but that she will do well to abandon the pretension or the wish to defend all the feeble or to guide all the foolish? coming dangers, and to tie up and regulate the future. But thus much of philosophy and forecast we have surely a right to desire and demand of those who aspire to take a lead in public life-that Secondly. Is that tendency which they shall determine distinctly in what has undoubtedly set in, and which to direction it is wise and beneficent that many seems so desirable, and to many all legislative changes and all adminis- more so irresistible-the tendency, nametrative action shall tend; and that they ly, to extend more and more the popular shall then take heed that their whole element in our system, to hand over more conduct shall work to guide the vessel and more political power and political of the state in that direction and to that preponderance to the numerical majority, end; that they shall form to themselves that is, the less educated portion of the some rational and feasible ideal of Eng-people-is this tendency one to be cherland's future, and shall work with steady and converging purpose, as far as in them lies, toward the realization of that ideal. At this point of our national history, for example, every one fit to lead, every one called upon either by position or by temper to speak, to write, to act, to vote, in political concerns, is bound, we think, to have some clear convictions, and some resolute intentions, on the two following points. First.-Is Great Britain henceforth to assert and to maintain her old position as a first rate influential European power, who must have a voice, and use it, in every European question, difficulty, and dispute; must, as of yore, never be silent, and never speak without enforcing respect for what she says? Or is she to admit frankly, and without recalcitration or regret, and without having the admission driven in upon her from without, that recent changes in naval and military art, and other political events, have altered her relative position, and with it her social duties, and that she is by no means inclined to deplore or resist the change; that she does not choose, after duly considering her obligations, her vulnerability, and the progress which certain modern ideas and doctrines have made among her people, any longer to keep up such a military force as alone would enable her to impose her will upon reluctant peoples, or to take an active and supererogatory part in continental quarrels; that she holds it inconsistent with her dignity to meddle in them by counsel and homily alone; and that therefore she is determined henceforward to look after her own concerns more, and after those of other nations less than heretofore, satisfied that she is, and will always be, able to suffice for The ished, though moderated and guided in The above are questions of directions and of ends; and without clear convic tions regarding them it appears to us. that a man can scarcely make a single step in public life without disgraceful vacillation and many miry falls. W. R. GREG. even be returned politely. When Lauzun broke his sword in the presence of Louis XIV., saying, "I will no longer serve a king who does not keep his word," the king threw his cane out of the window, adding, "It shall never be said that I have thrashed a man of noble birth!" The thrashing was given morally, and the outraged royal dignity was fully satisfied. As to polite rebukes, they are not uncommon, and are far more easy to administer. Frederick, called the Great, of Prussia, was at least a very great snuff-taker. To save the trouble of continually putting his hand in his pocket, he had a snuff-box ou the chimneypiece of every room in the suite of rooms he occupied. One day, when busy in his cabinet, he saw a page, who fancied he was not observed, unceremoniously tasting the royal snuff. He took no further notice at the time; but about an hour afterwards he ordered the page to bring him the box. "Take a pinch," said the king. "How do you find it?" "Excellent, sire." "And the box?" "Superb, sire." It Very well, sir; keep it, then. hardly holds enough for us two." Politeness lends an additional charm to every kind of social intercourse. It is to society what perfect tune is to the keyboard of a piano. Every member of society should be polite and decorous, just as every note in the musical scale ought to sound its exact pitch amongst the other notes. A knowledge of what politeness requires will often prevent discordant sounds. The study of the social code adopted by the world in which we move is, therefore, necessary for whoever wishes to figure creditably in that world. But rules alone are not sufficient; there are exceptional occasions when they fail to apply, and in which we must be guided by the spirit of courtesy. Deference to others, obedience to elders, submission to rank and authority, are the very essence of that spirit. George III. once complimented Dr. Johnson in highly flattering terms respecting his writings. Somebody asked the Doctor, "And what did you say to all that?" "Nothing," was the judicious reply. "Was I to bandy compliments with my sovereign?" He accepted the royal approbation, as was his duty. A new ambassador, Lord Swhose social tact was highly spoken of, arrived at the court of Louis XIV. The king, wishing to test his politeness, invited him to a shooting-party. At the moment of starting to drive to the wood, the king, drawing back, gave him the precedence, saying, "Get into the carriage, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur." Lord S- did not wait to be twice told to do so. Instead of humbly retreating and attempting to decline so great an honor, he obeyed at once; thus treating the royal invitation as an order which he was not even permitted to discuss. The king, who was the politest man of his day, perfectly appreciated the move, and remarked, with a smile, " Decidedly, Lord S- is a well-bred man." It is often, therefore, the truest politeness simply to do what you are requested to do. Politeness is not exactly a virtue, but an imitation and assumption of certain virtues. It induces us to appear kind, self-denying, indulgent, modest, because it would be uncivil and rude to appear the contrary. We are polite for our own sakes quite as much as for other people's. Politeness is the art of disguising our feelings and passions rather than of repressing them; it is a sense of propriety rather than of justice; it does not make a man better, but it renders him infinitely more sociable-as is indicated by the derivation of the word itself and its synonymes. The root of politeness is Toλs, a town; courtesy comes to us from courts; and civility, civilitas, according to Ainsworth, is the courtesy which citizens use to one another. Politeness, not content with avoiding everything that can possibly displease, continually and actively strives to please. It modifies the demeanor as well as the conduct, and adds a charm to the most trifling actions. When simply and naturally practiced and without any affectation, it almost amounts to friendship and affection. The forms of politeness have varied greatly in different ages of the world, and they still differ in several of their details in different countries even in Europe. Differences of religion and of political institutions naturally have their effect on the manners of a nation. In the course of time those effects accumulate, and show themselves in discrepancies of etiquette. Each thus acquires a little code of by-laws, which must be obeyed by all who mix much with that particular group or race of mankind. We may, however, safely assert that, as French is the language of courts and diplomacy, so French manners are upon the whole the rule in good continental society. All men in England are equal before the law; but our social inequality is great. What a gap between the squire and the laborer! The laborer takes off his hat to the squire, but the squire does. not take off his hat to him. What an abyss between the riders in Rotten Row and the orators and their audience in the park, met to discuss Garibaldi's departure! English society is made up of a series of sets, cliques, or coteriescastes they can hardly be called, since the position they give is not unalterable -each of which looks down upon that which is, or which it fancies below itself. On the continent generally political liberty and equality may be less, but social equality is greater. Parisian electors cannot meet to discuss politics in numbers exceeding twenty; public meetings are not to be thought of; political agitation is almost a crime; but at Parisian public fêtes and in places of public resort, every individual has an equal right and an equal standing, which no other individual may infringe or gainsay. The public voice upholds this principle of comparative equality; the nation prides itself on the national politeness. Woe be to any one who, by pretentious airs or discourtesy, attempts to "try it on," whether insolence and arrogance cannot gain social mastery. A severe lesson is in store for him or her-if the wouldbe bully is not at once snuffed out by ridicule. Pau is a curious town, a favorite resort of invalids and idlers, whose population consequently consists of a certain number of inhabitants and a very great many strangers. Everybody lets furnished apartments, from the humblest citizen to the highest personage. Generals, counts, and marquises advertise their rooms "with a south aspect and a "That is Madame C," was replied to her. "Ah! yes, I know," the Comtesse answered. "She's a linendraper." Madame C- who overheard every word of the conversation, inquired in turn, loud enough to be heard, and pointing with her finger to the haughty lady, "What do you call that?" "It is Madame d'Asterisk." "Ah! yes, I know. She's a letter of lodgings. We think of taking her rooms next season." Attention to one's outward appearance is one of the first elements of politeness. Want of cleanliness, slovenly or dilapidated attire, are an affront to the persons we approach. Anything like dirtiness-the very word offends-is utterly unpardonable and inadmissible. Man, naturally the nudest of animals, has necessarily the greatest need of personal neatness. Most of the nations of antiquity bathed daily, or oftener. Ablutions were, and still are in many countries, a religious practice. Perfumes are quite gone out of fashion, being left to be used almost exclusively by persons of questionable health, or worse, of questionable character. Dress is a serious consideration, both socially and sumptuarily. For men, simplicity is the rule, together with a slowness to adopt the newest and extremest fashions. Masculine costume is much more uniform now than when almost every grade and profession had each its characteristic dress. Dress was once a mark of caste, and only another form of social tyranny. John Kirby, the grandfather of the entomologist, a land-surveyor and schoolmaster, in one of his letters speaks of wearing mourning on the death of a near relation as being incompatible with his rank, and that the neighboring gentry would be displeased | heaviest items of the personal budget. were he to presume to put it on. But M. Mortemart-Boisse states that a man the first French Revolution had a power- of fashion may easily spend eighteen ful influence in levelling costume, and thousand francs, or seven hundred and the tendency is to still greater uniform- twenty pounds a year, on gloves. Those ity as most ladies who have housemaids who have less than seven hundred a are well aware. The attorney is scarcely year must compromise the matter as well to be distinguished from the member of as they can. Parliament, the barrister from the artist. French violinists, however, M. Comettant tells us all Frenchmen, indeed, who assume to be distingué-have the habit of keeping their black dress-coat buttoned in front. Neat, becoming, simple dress, well befitting the age of the wearer and without the least extravagance in any way, is an indication of good sense and orderly conduct. To dress with propriety, is both to respect others and to respect one's self. It is curious that even people who neglect themselves still like to see those about them smart and tidy. Black coat and pantaloons are indispensable in France for a first or specially formal call, a grand dinner, or a ball. In some towns, the dress-coat is insisted upon, even for concerts; in case of doubt, therefore, you will keep on the safe side by wearing it. A white waistcoat is more grande cérémonie than a black one; the same as to the cravat. A hat as brilliant as polished jet, shining varnished boots or bottines-for shoes, even varnished, are négligé, and call to mind the waiters at restaurants - together with perfect gloves, are points respecting which two opinions are not permitted. Gloves are an item of such impor tance, that they cannot be dismissed without a word in passing. The proverb says, "Bien ganté et bien chaussé, on va partout."-" Well gloved and well shod, you may present yourself anywhere." There are occasions which al low you to dispense with gloves, as when gardening, fishing, or indulging in other open-air recreations allowed to gentlemen; but there is no occasion on which you may appear with holey, greasy, shabby gloves. In the very highest society, the same pair of gloves may not be worn twice; at least they must never betray the slightest trace of having been worn. Morning gloves, walking gloves, calling gloves, evening gloves, must be ever spotless, fresh, and new. Consequently, the glover's bill is one of the Soon after the Lady Bianca Biancaville disgraced herself by a love-match with Mr. Nero Nobody, I happened to dine at a wealthy mansion. Of course, everybody had their word to say. "Poor things!" observed a dowager by my side. "They have only eight hundred a year between them." "No more!" exclaimed the lady of the house. "Why that will only just serve them for gloves." "It is very lucky for me," I said, "that it is not yet the fashion to dine in gloves; for I never had eight hundred a year, and most likely never shall." The fine folks present were good enough not to appear shocked at my bold confession of gloveless poverty, but bore it with the equanimity with which we support other people's sorrows. Gloves should fit like a second skin, and be worn buttoned at the wrist. A French authority (Alphonse Karr) tells you to take a gentleman's hand with your own ungloved, in token of frankness and sincerity; but to keep your glove on when you touch a lady's, as a proof of the respect with which you regard her. Gloves also have their court. etiquette. If you are honored by the Pope with an audience, his secret chamberlain, Monsignore Borromeo, begs you to take off your gloves before entering. "The Holy Father," he tells you, "like the Holy Communion, is approached only with ungloved hands." I suppose it was in obedience to a similar rule that the sorceresses of old, as Canidia and Sagana, took out their false teeth, and took off their false hair, before they set to work to raise the ghosts of the dead. The cravat merits more attention than is often bestowed upon it. It meets you face to face every time you converse with a gentleman; you cannot help observing it. It is the pedestal, as it were, on which the whole of the countenance is based. An ill-tied, wisped-up, muddled cravat, is enough to prejudice you against a new acquaintance. Of all our articles |