213639Letters to Mothers — Letter XXLydia Sigourney

LETTER XX.

HAPPINESS.

IT was a pleasant theory of an ancient musician, that the "soul was but a harmony." However erroneous the philosophy may be, it furnishes a profitable hint. The habit of eliciting from the discord of opposing circumstances, a song of praise, is of inestimable value. It was said of Klopstock, the German poet, that his "mind maintained a perpetual spring, a never-failing succession of beauty and of fragrance; if the rose wounded him, he gathered the lily, if the lily died on his bosom, he cherished the myrtle." Such affinity had this temperament with buoyancy of spirits, and a perpetual flow of the freshness of life, that even when the snows of fourscore years had settled upon his brow, he was designated by the epithet of the "youth forever."

This harmony of our nature with the tasks that are appointed it, is not only peculiarly graceful in woman, but in a measure necessary to the complete fulfillment of her destiny. In her capacity of wife and mother, she is the keeper of the happiness of others. Can she be worthy of such high trust, unless she is able to be the keeper of her own? She is expected to be a comforter. But how can this be, unless the materials of her own character, are well-balanced, and combined? She is expected to add brightness to the fire-side. Can she do this, unless the principle of light is inherent? She is expected to be as a sunbeam on the cloud, the bow of promise amid the storms of life. Therefore, the foundation of her own happiness, must be above the region of darkness, and tempest.

The desire of happiness, is implanted in all created beings. Its capacities are capable of cultivation, and extension, beyond what at first view would be imagined. The means by which it may be attained and imparted, should be studied as a science, especially by that sex whose ministry is among those affections which make or mar the music of the soul.

A mind ever open to the accession of knowledge, may be numbered among the elements of happiness. The free action of intellect, as well as the due exercise of the muscular powers, promotes the health and harmony of the system. "Knowledge, says Lord Bacon, is an impression of pleasure, and the application thereof, ought to bring unto us repose, and contentment."

The cultivation of friendship, and of the social affections, should be assiduously regarded. If, according to the definition of an ancient philosopher, " happiness be the sharing of pleasure and pain with another," it is less important to try to escape the evils of this life of trial, than to learn the art of dividing them.

A habit of looking on the bright side of character, and of finding excuses for error, is conducive to happiness. It is a branch of benevolence, which every day gives opportunity to exercise. It is of the same kindred with that spirit of piety, which expatiates on the blessings of providence, and delights to select themes of discourse from those mercies which are "new every morning, and fresh every moment." Page:Letters to Mothers (1839).djvu/254 The most disinterested, have the best materials for being happy. They are seen forgetting their own sorrows, that they may console those of others. May it not therefore be assumed that the subjugation of self, is happiness?

The lineaments of cheerfulness, are important. A smiling brow, and a pleasant toned voice, are adjuncts of happiness. A wife is not always aware, how much her husband may be thus cheered, when he returns harassed by the perplexities of business, perhaps, soured by intercourse with harsh and unfriendly spirits. She should spare to add to his secret burdens, the irritation of her own repinings. Household inconveniences, though

they may be great to her, are apt to appear to him, as the "small dust of the balance." It is not wise to choose them as the subjects of discourse, except where his counsel or decision, are imperatively needed. It is sweet to a wife to feel that she is regarded as

 "The light and music of a happy home.
 It was her smile that made the house so gay,
 Her voice that made it eloquent with joy,
 Her presence peopled it. Her very tread
 Had life and gladness in it."

But if the lineaments of happiness are so beautiful in a wife, they are still more indispensable to a mother. The little child opens the door of its heart to the kind tone, the smiling brow, the eye looking above this world, to a brighter sun. Especially while engaged in teaching her little ones, let the mother preserve every symbol of cheerfulness; the mild manner, the gentle word, the tender caress. Love and knowledge entering in together, form a happy and hallowed alliance. We are scarcely aware, how much little children admire pleasant faces.

"My children, said a widowed father, our circle has been long desolate. I hope ere long to be able to present you with a new mother. You must all promise me to love her." Pleasure was visible on every countenance. A new Mother! It was a delightful idea to their affectionate hearts. They shouted forth their joy. Soon, one of the most favoured of the number, a boy of a sweet spirit, climbed his father's knee. "Please to choose for us, a mother who will laugh. And we would all like it well, if you would bring us one that knows how to play." There spoke forth the free, happy nature of childhood.

Christians ought to be happy, and being so, should make it visible. The words and example of our Saviour, convey this lesson. "When ye fast, be ye not of a sad countenance." If even the penitential parts of our religion, do not allow this demeanour, can faith, and hope, and joy require it?

Every woman in advancing the happiness of her family, should look beyond the gratification of the present moment, and consult their ultimate improvement. She should require all the members of her household, to bear their part towards this end. The little child, too young to contribute aught beside, may bring the gift of a smile, the charm of sweet manners. The kiss of the roselipp'd babe, enters into the account. The elder children should select from their studies, or from the books they are perusing, some portion to relate, which will administer to general information, or rational amusement. All, according to their means, should he taught to swell the stock of happiness.

Mistakes are sometimes made, with regard to the nature of happiness. I knew a mother, replete with benevolence, and the soul of affection. She found her husband and children, made happy by the pleasures of the palate. Her life was devoted to that end. Elegance, and unending variety, characterized her table. Her invention was taxed, her personal labour often put in requisition, for efforts to which the genius of her servants was unequal. She loved the glowing smile that repaid her toils. The motive was affectionate; what were its results? In some, conviviality, in others gluttony, in all a preference of sense to spirit. Page:Letters to Mothers (1839).djvu/259 Page:Letters to Mothers (1839).djvu/260 Page:Letters to Mothers (1839).djvu/261 Another mother, wished to make a family of beautiful daughters happy. She encouraged the gay amusements in which youth delights. Expensive dresses, and rich jewelry were found necessary. She could not bear to see her daughters outshone, and mortified. She taxed the purse of her husband, beyond its capacity, and contrary to his judgment. Her principal argument was, "I know, you love to see our young people happy." Her theory of happiness, ended in a spirit of display, a necessity of excitement, a habit of competition, a ruinous extravagance.

If we would advance the true felicity of others, we must not only know in what it consists, but must also be happy ourselves. Let us remember that we must give account at last, for our happiness, as well as for any other sacred deposite. A capacity for it, has been given us; how have we improved it? Have we suffered it to grow inert, or morbid?

A cup was put into our hands, capable of containing the bright essences, which this beautiful creation yields. Have we allowed it to be filled with tears? have we dampened its chrystal surface with perpetual sighs?

The flowers of affection were sown along our path. Did we gratefully inhale them, or complain that weeds sometimes mingled with them, that the roses were not without thorns, that the fairest and purest, were never exempt from mildew and frost and death?

If we are so happy as at last to arrive at heaven, and some reproving seraph at its gate, should ask why we came mourning or repining along our pilgrim-path, and assure us that the dispositions of that blessed clime ought to have been cultivated below, that joy and praise were the elements of its atmosphere, how earnestly should we wish that the whole of our life had been a preparation for that Eternity of love, and that we had travelled thither with a countenance always radiant, "an everlasting hymn within our souls."