The first thing that in the native character impresses the traveler is his impassive demeanor and imperturbable bearing. He is a born stoic, a fatalist by nature. This accounts for his coolness in moments of danger, and his intrepid daring against overwhelming odds. This feature of the Malay character has often been displayed in the conflicts of the race with the Europeans in the East Indies. Under competent leadership the native, though strongly averse to discipline, can be made a splendid soldier. As sailors, too, I do not believe they can be equalled. For, lithe, active, and fond of the water, the Malays have ever shown their inclination for the sea. Their pirates, coursing in their prahus, have, till a few years ago, for centuries infested the bays and inlets of the eastern Archipelagos, looting the towns and villages on shore and taking as booty such foreign merchantmen as they were able to overcome. On account of the ravages of these fierce eastern Vikings, Europeans have come to regard the whole Malay race as cruel and bloodthirsty. But these were pirates in their own waters, and preyed upon their own countrymen, by whom they were feared no less than were the Spanish and English freebooters of old by their countrymen. Why, then, should their outrages and rapacity be taken as indicative of the Malay character any more than are the atrocities of the Caucasian corsair of their race? The natives are all excellent swimmers, and are absolutely fearless in the water. I have seen groups of boys diving thirty or forty feet for pennies, dropped into the sea by foreign officers on ships anchored in the bay. Many swim miles with the greatest ease; and it is no uncommon sight in the outlying districts to see groups of naked men plunging with drawn dagger among a shoal of sharks, with whom they fight with a fierceness that always results in the victory of the native. Along the beach at Manila, on a summer evening, at the close of the day's labor, hundreds of hands from the various tobacco factories--men, women, and children, of all ages and sizes, married and unmarried--may be seen disporting themselves, with peals of laughter and squeals of delight, in the cool surf. As a result of the stoicism of the native character, he never bewails a misfortune, and has no fear of death. When anything happens he merely says, It is fate, and calmly goes about his business as if nothing had happened. Europeans often seem to notice in them what they deem a lack of sympathy for the misfortunes of others; but it is not this so much as resignation to the inevitable. This, it must be confessed, saves them many a bitter pang. The educated native, however, impregnated with the bitter philosophy of the civilized world, is by no means so imperturbable. While more keenly alive to the sufferings of others, he is also more sensitive to his own sorrows. After all, whether he is any happier for his wisdom, is a question.