o him on his own
grounds. Their smile is four-fifths of their social stock in trade. All
such smiles are hideous. The gloomiest, blankest look which a human face
can wear is welcomer than a trained smile or a smile which, if it is not
actually and consciously methodized by its perpetrator, has become, by
long repetition, so associated with tricks and falsities that it partakes
of their quality.

What, then, is the fine art of smiling?

If smiles may not be used for weapons or masks, of what use are they? That
is the shape one would think the question took in most men's minds, if we
may judge by their behavior! There are but two legitimate purposes of the
smile; but two honest smiles. On all little children's faces such smiles
are seen. Woe to us that we so soon waste and lose them!

The first use of the smile is to express affectionate good-will; the
second, to express mirth.

Why do we not always smile whenever we meet the eye of a fellow-being?
That is the true, intended recognition which ought to pass from soul to
soul constantly. Little children, in simple communities, do this
involuntarily, unconsciously. The honest-hearted German peasant does it.
It is like magical sunlight all through that simple land, the perpetual
greeting on the right hand and on the left, between strangers, as they
pass by each other, never without a smile. This, then, is "the fine art of
smiling;" like all fine art, true art, perfection of art, the simplest
following of Nature.

Now and then one sees a face which has kept its smile pure and undefiled.
It is a woman's face usually; often a face which has trace of great sorrow
all over it, till the smile breaks. Such a smile transfigures; such a
smile, if the artful but knew it, is the greatest weapon a face can have.
Sickness and age cannot turn its edge; hostility and distrust cannot
withstand its spell; little children know it, and smile back; even dumb
animals come closer, and look up for another.

If one were asked to sum up in one single rule what would most conduce to
beauty in the human face, one might say therefore, "Never tamper with your
smile; never once use it for a purpose. Let it be on your face like the
reflection of the sunlight on a lake. Affectionate good-will to all men
must be the sunlight, and your face is the lake. But, unlike the sunlight,
your good-will must be perpetual, and your face must never be overcast."

"What! smile perpetually?" says the realist. "How s