more anxious to preserve his own character and reputation, because hers is blended with it. Lastly, the good husband is pious and religious, that he may animate her faith by his practice, and enforce the precepts of Christianity by his own example." "The good wife is one who, ever mindful of the solemn contract which she has entered into, is strictly and conscientiously virtuous, constant, and faithful to her husband; chaste, pure, and unblemished in every thought, word, and deed; she is humble and modest from reason and conviction, submissive from choice, and obedient from inclination; what she acquires by love and tenderness, she preserves by prudence and discretion. She makes it her business to serve, and her pleasure to oblige her husband; conscious that everything that promotes his happiness must, in the end, contribute to her own. Her tenderness relieves his cares, her affection softens his distress, her good humor and complacency lessen and subdue his afflictions. She openeth her mouth,' as Solomon says, 'with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the way of her husband, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed: her hus band also, and he praiseth her.' As a good and pious Christian, she looks up with an eye of grati tude to the great Dispenser and Disposer of all things, to the Husband of the widow and the Father of the fatherless, entreating his divine favor and assistance in this and every other moral and religious duty." CHAPTER III. CONTENTMENT. "We may be poor-Robie and I, What more have queens upon a throne ?" THERE is no ingredient which mingles more largely in human happiness than contentment. Indeed, in its fullest sense, contentment is happiness, and admits of nothing in opposition to peace and quietness. This, however, is a degree of contentment which seldom, if ever, falls to the lot of mortals. Poets have sung of it as being found in rural scenes, amid shady groves and aromatic bowers. But it would be in vain that we should seek for perfect contentment. Care will creep into the heart even when surrounded by the most lovely scenes; and the involuntary sigh stealing from the bosom, despite the full indulgence of appetite, taste, and sentiment, bespeaks the lack of perfection in all earthly bliss. Nevertheless, there is a degree of contentment necessary to the happiness of mortals, which can be attained by a proper exercise of the discretionary powers bestowed upon us. With this degree of contentment, but few essentials will be requisite to ensure the highest state of enjoyment of which 'man's present condition will admit. But without it, wealth, splendor, power, fashion, luxury, all the resources to which men apply for happiness, will in vain exert their influence; for discontent is but another name for wretchedness--its dark shadow shuts out the light and joy of life. "To make us happy," says Richter, "we require not much less than everything! to make us miserable, not much more than nothing will suffice." very trifling thing will often make an individual discontented; and although he may possess all advantages for happiness, yet while that discontent continues, he is as wretched as though he had no means of enjoyment at his disposal. A The degree of contentment we possess, depends, in a great measure, upon the feelings, dispositions, and desires which we cherish-much more so, than upon the peculiar circumstances in which we are placed. Even in the midst of general success and prosperity, the cherishing of certain dispositions will invariably induce discontent. While, on the other hand, by cherishing another class of desires, the presence of adversity can be borne with patience, and contentment will shed its sweet influences upon the soul, even in the humblest walks of life. The Creator, in our organization, has established a nice equilibrium between all the functions of the body and the mind. To observe this well adjusted balance-to give each faculty, each propensity, whether mental or physical, a proper gratification, activity, and cultivation, is to find contentment and happiness. But to disturb this equilibrium-to afford a high and continued gratification to some propensities, to the utter neglect of others to lavish every means for the cultivation of a few faculties and powers, while others are allowed to remain in the original crudeness of nature or to give loose rein to desires which cannot be gratified-is but to become discontented and miserable. It cannot be otherwise. When all the wheels of the machine do not move in the order and manner designed by the great Builder, how can their operation produce the desired happy result? The same end cannot be produced by a disordered process, that is brought about by the harmonious movement of all connected parts. A great dislike of present rank and station in life, is a prolific source of discontent. A wise Providence has allowed society to be composed of different classes and grades. He casts our lot in such rank as he deems best; and it is wisdom in us to be satisfied therewith. To look with envi ous eyes upon those who are in a higher stationto fancy they are far more favored and happy than we are, and to covet the gratifications and pleasures with which we imagine they are blessed--is childish in the extreme, and is making ourselves unhappy to no profit. Instead of gazing with longing eyes upon things beyond our reach, it is much more wise to place a proper estimate upofi the blessings we already possess, and, with a thankful spirit, enjoy them as designed by their great and good Giver. When we contemplate, with the calm eye of reason and philosophy, the condition of mankind, we shall not discover so great a disparity in the amount of their enjoyments, as the difference in their outward circumstances would lead the superficial observer to suppose. I am satisfied that a man of good habits, in the humblest circumstances, enjoys as many hours of true happiness, during the year, as he who dwells in a splendid palace, and "fares sumptuously every day." The higher and the more influential and powerful the station a man occupies, the more danger surrounds, and care presses on him. He who sits upon a regal throne-who sways the sceptre of authority over millions, and who to outward appearance must be the happiest among mortals— is often more wretched and more to be pitied, than the mendicant who solicits alms at his gates! The crown and the coronet far more often press aching than smiling brows. In private and lowly life, responsibilities and cares are few-dangers from envy, or rivalry, or revenge, or cupidity, there are none--and when the heart is right, peace and contentment shed their divine light around. Burns most beautifully alludes to the dangers of the elevated, and the advantages of the humble : |