Who has not
observed it? Even the most stolid and apathetic soul relaxes a little. The
unconscious intruder, simply by smiling, has set the blood moving more
quickly in the veins of every human being who sees him. He is, for the
moment, the personal benefactor of every one; if he had handed about money
or bread, it would have been a philanthropy of less value.
What is to be done to prevent this acrid look of misery from becoming an
organic characteristic of our people? "Make them play more," says one
philosophy. No doubt they need to "play more;" but, when one looks at the
average expression of a Fourth of July crowd, one doubts if ever so much
multiplication of that kind of holiday would mend the matter. No doubt we
work for too many days in the year, and play for too few; but, after all,
it is the heart and the spirit and the expression that we bring to our
work, and not those that we bring to our play, by which our real vitality
must be tested and by which our faces will be stamped. If we do not work
healthfully, reasoningly, moderately, thankfully, joyously, we shall have
neither moderation nor gratitude nor joy in our play.
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