Again, with the national temperament such as it is, there may be great individual differences; and it may be possible by force of circumstances, to improve the hilarity and the buoyancy of any given person.  Many of our countrymen are as joyous themselves, and as much the cause of joy in others, as the most light-hearted Irishman, or the gayest Frenchman or Italian.  How shall we increase the number of such, so as to make them the rule rather than the exception?

[Sole means of attaining CHEERFULLNESS.]

The only answer not at variance with the laws of the human constitution is—­Increase the supports and diminish the burdens of life.

For example, if by any means you can raise the standard of health and longevity, you will at once effect a stride in the direction sought.  But what an undertaking is this!  It is not merely setting up what we call sanitary arrangements, to which, in our crowded populations, there must soon be a limit reached (for how can you secure to the mass of men even the one condition of sufficient breathing-space?), it is that health cannot be attained, in any high general standard, without worldly means far above the average at the disposal of the existing population; while the most abundant resources are often neutralised by ineradicable hereditary taint.  To which it is to be added, that mankind can hardly as yet be said to be in earnest in the matter of health.

Farther:  it is especially necessary to cheerfulness, that a man should not be overworked, as many of us are, whether from choice or from necessity.  Much, I believe, turns upon this circumstance.  Severe toil consumes the forces of the constitution, without leaving the remainder requisite for hilarity of tone.  The Irishman fed upon three meals of potatoes a day, the lazy Highlander, the Lazaroni of Naples living upon sixpence a week, are very poorly supported; but then their vitality is so little drawn upon by work, that they may exceed in buoyancy of spirits the well-fed but hard-worked labourer.  We, the English people, would not change places with them, notwithstanding:  our ideal is industry with abundance; but then our industry sobers our temperament, and inclines us to the dulness that Helps regrets.  Possibly, we may one day hit a happier mean; but to the human mind extremes have generally been found easiest.

Once more:  the light-hearted races trouble themselves little about their political constitution, about despotism or liberty; they enjoy the passing moments of a despot’s smiles, and if he turns round and crushes them, they quietly submit.  We live in dread of tyranny.  Our liberty is a serious object; it weighs upon our minds.  Now any weight upon the mind is so much taken from our happiness; hilarity may attend on poverty, but not so well on a serious, forecasting disposition.  Our regard to the future makes us both personally industrious and politically anxious; a temper not to be amused with the relaxations of the Parisian in his cafe on the boulevards, or with the Sunday merry-go-round of the light-hearted Dane.  Our very pleasures have still a sadness in them.