HOW FAIRIES LOOK.
Do you want to know how Contentment looks? Some people think she is the
most beautiful among all the fairies; (and there are hosts of them, and
some of the bad ones, even, have handsome faces.) Her cheeks are not
quite as rosy as Love's, and her mild eyes do not sparkle and glitter as
brilliantly; but she has a smile even brighter than Love's own; this
sheds a peaceful light about Contentment wherever she goes; and wherever
it falls, beautiful flowers will blossom, and the air grow clear and
fragrant.
She wears a wreath of starbeams, braided into a delicate but brilliant
crown; and there is no place so dark but this will light a path through
it. Her pure white wings look like two lily petals, and though always
clean and fresh themselves, I suppose they have dusted away more heaps
of care, and though so delicate, have lifted people safely over wider
seas of trouble, than all the strong arms in the world--all the
railroads and steamships put together.
She always carries in her hand an urn, from which a sweet and delicate
odor arises like incense.
Perhaps you will be surprised when I tell where she found this urn. It
was the largest and most perfect blossom on a branch of lilies of the
valley. Did you ever notice what lovely little vases they form when you
turn them stem side down? I never saw one half as pretty made of Parian;
but, then, of course nothing _could_ be as beautiful as a flower; they
are God's vases, and his work is always the most perfect.
The lily never faded; nothing _can_ fade in the light of Contentment's
smile; and the modest little flower that might only have shed fragrance
about its own green leaves, borne by the fairy, has sprinkled its
incense odor through every land.
Love is more splendid than Contentment, but not any more beautiful;
_her_ wings are larger, richer, and more delicate. They are like petals
of the fleur-de-lis, or iris, perhaps you call it--the splendid,
feathery, purple flower, with leaves like long ribbon streamers. They
are transparent too; and wherever Love goes, the light, shining through
these wings, casts a rich purple glow about her--dyed, as you may have
seen the sunshine in falling through the great stained window of some
church. Love's crown is a broad band of golden sunshine, and she
scatters roses and violets about every where.