The less affairs of life are traced to Self. The code of Etiquette, that Chesterfield Defines “Benevolence in little things,” Is but a scheme to give Self consciousness Of excellence in breeding, and to keep “Our Circle” sep’rate by its shibboleth. The stately bow, the graceful sip of wine, The useless little finger’s dainty crook In lifting up the fragile Sevres cup, The holding of the hat in morning calls, The touch of it when passing through the streets, The drawing of a glove, the use of cane-- Our every act is coupled with the thought How well Self does all this. Our very words Are used to gratify the self. Men talk By preference, for they judge their words Will gain them more applause than listening. But if attention yields more fruit to Self, How patiently they hear the longest tale, And laugh in glee at its insipid close! If with superiors, we attend, because Attention pleases more with them than words; But if inferiors, we must talk the most, Since their attention flatters us so much. The cause of converse, Self, is oftenest food. How few the talks that are not spiced with “I,” What “I” can do, or did or will! Sometimes, The Self is held, on purpose, up for jest; As when men tell a joke upon themselves. But here the shame of conduct or mishap Is more than balanced by the hearty laugh, Which gives its pleasant witness to our wit. We never tell what will present ourselves In such an aspect laughter cannot heal; Although it compliments our telling powers. Attentions to the fair, but seek for Self Their smiles of favor. Little deeds of love To those around us, look for their reward. The youth polite, who gives his chair to Age, “Without a thought of Self,” is yet provoked, If Age do not evince, by nod or smile, His obligation to that unthought Self. The very qualities we call innate, Arise and rule through Self. Our reverence, Or tendency to worship, is to gain A good. Religion grows this tendency Into the various Churches, all whose ends Are to secure eternal good for Self. And those who preach that man does sacrifice Himself for fellow-men, I ask, why none Will give his soul for others’? Many give The paltry life on Earth for others’ good; The very stones would cry “O! fool!” to him Who’d yield his soul; for that is highest Self, And nothing e’er can compensate its loss.