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WHO IS HAPPY?
Smith, Harrison
[i]Lady's Book (1835-1939);[/i] Apr 1839; American Periodicals
pg.157

Written for the Lady's Book.

WHO IS HAPPY?--(CONTINUED.)

BY MRS. HARRISON SMITH.

[left column]
A young relation of Mr. De Lacy;s became
an orphan, and by the death of his parents was
left destitute and homeless. My husband, rigid
in his ideas of duty, determined to adopt and
provide for his relative. He became an inmate
of our family; he was about my age, and was
received in the family as a brother. Placed in
this character and situation, I treated him with
the kindness and frankness such relationship
was calculated to inspire. He was not hand-
some, but he was interesting. He was not
distinguished by intelectual endowments, or
personal graces, but his extreme tenderness of
disposition, and acuteness of sensibility, gave a
refinement and delicacy to his manners, which
generally is the result of a highly cultivated
mind. A tincture of melancholy, added to his
natural diffidence, could not fail of exciting a
tenderer interest, than a stronger or more self-
sustained character wold have done. Gratit-
ude to his benefactor, he felt to a painful de-
gree; and sought by the most assiduous and
unremitting attentions to discharge some portion
of the obligations with oppressed him. His
relative afforded him few opportunities of evinc-
ing his grateful feelings; for my husband, suffi-
cient to himself, seemed as little desirous of
receiving, as he was attentive in paying, those
small, but kind assiduities, which constitute the
language of sentiment; he lived apart from, and
I may say above others; and, steadily, loftily,
and alone, pursued the path he had chosen, with
a mind so fixedd on highter objects, as to be in-
different to the little pains and pleasures of
private life.

It was natural for the young man, thus rep-
elled by the coldness of his relative, to turn
those attentions, prompted by gratitude, to the
wife and child of his benefactor. But there was
no reflection or calculation in this conduct--it
was the instinct of a tender heart, full to over-
flowing.

Domestic in his habits, pure and simple in
his tastes, and naturally fond of children, he
was never tempted to look abroad for pleasures,
since all he desired were found at home. Even
had this not been the bias of his disposition, the
governing sentiment of his soul would have
prompted him to devote his time to the family
into which he had been so generously adopted.
At any rate, he could not but love my little
Clara. This darling child had now become my
inseparable companion--no longer confined to
the nursery, but the delight and plaything, and
I may say, the pride and ornament of the par-
lour--for what was there I was so pround of ex-
hibiting, as by beauteous Clara? Yes, her
infantine loveliness made her the admiration,
and her good humour and vivacity, the delight
of all our visiters.

Even her father used sometimes to be drawn
from his abstraction, and would pat her head
and kiss her cheek: but, if encouraged by this

[right clolumn]
degree of notice, she attempted to climb his
knee or prattle, he would gently push her back,
saying, "Away, little one, you disturb me."--
How could he resist her winning ways?--Ed-
ward, on the contrary, never entered the room
without catching her in his arms, and lavishing
on her the fondest caresses. He would play
with her for hours together; sugar plubs and
toys were always in his pockets, which he
taught her to search; I should have grown jea-
lous of the dear child's excessive fondness for
him, had not my maternal love been so much
gratified by his devotion to her.

When I walked, Edward walked with me,
while the nurse followed with the child. When
at home, his own engagements were given up
that he might read to me, or play with Clara.

How often during the long twilight of winter
evenings--fire-light, I should rather say--have
we both sat on the arpet and amused the dear
child, or while I played on the piano, he would
dance with her; and when the nurse came to
take her to bed, to humour the petted darling,
he would himself carry her to the nursery door,
or at other times walk her to sleep in his arms.
Kindness to a child is the readiest way to a
mother's heart, and to such an one as mine, it
was a short and easy way.

My home was no longer desolate--affection
and sympathy were now its inmates. I suffered
not from the aching void which had so long
gnawed upon my heart, like hunger on the
famished wretch; it was now full to overflowing
of kind and gracious feelings. I made another
happy. Delightful consciousness! The happi-
ness that beamed from Edward's face, was to
my long chilled and darkened soul, like the
summer's sun, after a dreary winter.

Every faculty seemed to revive under the
animating infuence of cordial symathy. In-
tellectual pleasures were eagerly pursued, as I
ardently desired the improvement of this amia-
ble young man. I had now a motive for select-
ing and reading the best and most useful works,
and soon felt the beneficial effect on my own
mind, though the motive of my choice had only
been the improvement of his.

Where were now that lassitude, restlessness,
and dissatisfaction, that had made my life a
burden heavy to be borne? The awakened
activity of thought and feeling gave wings to
those hours, that hitherto had crept so wearily
along.

Ah, my husband, had I been necessry to
[i]your[/i] happiness, there would never have been
a deficiency in my [i]own.[/i] The consciousness
of pleasing imparts the power to please, whilst
a failure so to do, destroys not only the power,
but the motive which impelled endeavour. The
moral, is like tha material world--warmth es-
pands--cold contracts. The revivifying effects
of spring are not more obvious on the earth
which it clothes in verdure and flowers, than

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