The Burman is a firm believer in amusement, in relaxation, in holidays. He sees no good in a too strenuous and incessant application to the serious business of life. He likes to take life easily, and to see plenty of change. Even his religious duties usually blend amusement with the seeking after merit. The numerous festivals and religious observances serve for frequent holidays, and whatever he may fancy in the way of diversion. The Burman is indolent, casual, unstable and uncertain, and not to be depended upon. He does not readily conform to discipline or restraint, and it is found very difficult to make a soldier or a policeman of him. It is difficult to get him into a routine of any kind. He makes a very indifferent servant. In Burma the British Government cannot depend upon Burmans in the constitution of the police force, but finds it necessary to man the greater part of the police ranks with natives of India, enlisted chiefly from among the fighting races of the Punjab. In mitigation of the indictment against the Burman that he is loose, careless and lazy, it is urged that he is fettered by the multiplicity of lucky and unlucky days, and various astrological difficulties, which we do not appreciate. But when every allowance is made for these things, it must be found a true bill against him. This _is_ one of the weak points in his character. Even in school life this feature of the national character abundantly manifests itself. The boys, instead of keeping to one school, are fond of attending school after school, changing from one to another, until they have gone the round of all within their reach, when they will start to go the round again. One might almost suppose they thought there was a school where they could learn by magic, and that they were in search of that school. Such a crying evil has this become in Burma, that stringent rules have had to be framed by the Department of Public Instruction to check this incessant migration. If the Burman has the faults of a careless, happy-go-lucky race, he has the virtues also. He has been called the Irishman of the East. His manners have the ease and the polish of a “gentleman born.” He is most affable and approachable, and in religion tolerant of the opinions of others. He is hospitable, and will help the destitute stranger without making too many inquiries. I met one day in Mandalay an English sailor, who had made his way up from Rangoon with another man. They had done the last two hundred miles on foot. They were both quite destitute, and yet they had travelled all that distance, for the most part of it far from any Englishman, and that, too, when the country was in a most disturbed state on account of dacoits, and without knowing a word of Burmese. They had simply passed on from village to village, their wants being supplied by the Burmans where they halted. That this should have been possible speaks well for the kind-hearted hospitality of the Burmans.