many other cases, the sight and proximity of others exercise over us a
great influence, and sometimes almost a fascination.

To this sympathy we are largely indebted for the diffusion of high
spirits. It is pleasant to laugh and see others laughing, and thus the
one leads to the other. "Laugh and be fat," is a proverb, and it has
been well observed that "we like those who make us laugh," because they
give us pleasure. We may add that we like to see others 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 Æsculapius 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