thers joyous, because
we feel that we are surrounded by kindly natures. A gallant writer tells
us that he hopes to be rewarded for his labours in the field of
literature by "the sweetest of all sounds in nature--the laughter of
fair women." Macready, speaking of this influence, says:

"The words of Milman would have applied well to Mrs. Jordan, 'Oh, the
words laughed on her lips!' Mrs. Nesbitt, the charming actress of a late
day, had a fascinating power in the sweetly-ringing notes of her hearty
mirth; but Mrs. Jordan's laugh was so rich, so apparently irrepressible,
so deliciously self-enjoying, as to be at all times irresistible."

The agreeable influence of smiles is so well known that many are tempted
to counterfeit them, and assume an expression in which the eye and lip
are in unhappy conflict.[3] On the other hand, painful thoughts are
inimical to mirth. No sally of humour will brighten the countenance of a
man who has lately suffered a severe loss, and even mental reflection
will extinguish every sparkle. But the bed of sickness can often be
better cheered by some gay efflorescence, some happy turn of thought,
than by expressions of condolence. Galen says that AEsculapius wrote
comic songs to promote circulation in his patients; and Hippocrates
tells us that "a physician should have a certain ready humour, for
austerity is repulsive both to well and ill." The late Sir Charles Clark
recognised this so far that one of his patients told me that his visits
were like a bottle of Champagne; and Sir John Byles observes,
"Cheerfulness eminently conduces to health both of body and mind; it is
one of the great physicians of nature.

"Il y a trois medecins qui ne se trompent pas,
La gaite, le doux exercice, et le modeste repas.

Every hour redeemed from despondency and melancholy, and bathed in the
sunshine of cheerfulness, is an hour of true life gained."

Our views with regard to the first appearance of laughter depend on
whether we consider that man was gradually developed from the primeval
oyster, or that he came into the world much in the same condition as
that in which we find him now. If we adopt the former opinion, we must
consider that no outward expressions of feeling originally existed; if
the latter, that they were from the first almost as perfect as they are
at present. But I think that we shall be on tolerably safe ground, and
have the support of probability and history, if we say that, in his
earlie