the sufferings of others. Modesty and complaisance, actuated by respect
for others' feelings, are at the root of

POLITENESS,

that courtesy and urbanity of manners which has been noticed by every
foreign tourist as a marked Japanese trait. Politeness is a poor virtue,
if it is actuated only by a fear of offending good taste, whereas it
should be the outward manifestation of a sympathetic regard for the
feelings of others. It also implies a due regard for the fitness of
things, therefore due respect to social positions; for these latter
express no plutocratic distinctions, but were originally distinctions
for actual merit.

In its highest form, politeness almost approaches love. We may
reverently say, politeness "suffereth long, and is kind; envieth not,
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up; doth not behave itself unseemly,
seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, taketh not account of
evil." Is it any wonder that Professor Dean, in speaking of the six
elements of Humanity, accords to Politeness an exalted position,
inasmuch as it is the ripest fruit of social intercourse?

While thus extolling Politeness, far be it from me to put it in the
front rank of virtues. If we analyze it, we shall find it correlated
with other virtues of a higher order; for what virtue stands alone?
While--or rather because--it was exalted as peculiar to the profession
of arms, and as such esteemed in a degree higher than its deserts, there
came into existence its counterfeits. Confucius himself has repeatedly
taught that external appurtenances are as little a part of propriety as
sounds are of music.

When propriety was elevated to the _sine qua non_ of social intercourse,
it was only to be expected that an elaborate system of etiquette should
come into vogue to train youth in correct social behavior. How one must
bow in accosting others, how he must walk and sit, were taught and
learned with utmost care. Table manners grew to be a science. Tea
serving and drinking were raised to a ceremony. A man of education is,
of course, expected to be master of all these. Very fitly does Mr.
Veblen, in his interesting book,[11] call decorum "a product and an
exponent of the leisure-class life."

[Footnote 11: _Theory of the Leisure Class_, N.Y. 1899, p. 46.]

I have heard slighting remarks made by Europeans upon our elaborate
discipline of politeness. It has been criticized as absorbing too much
of our thought and in so far a folly to ob