Page:Female Prose Writers of America.djvu/99

   Good deeds not alone for the good word of men, But for Heaven’s judging ken, And clear, omniscient eye, And surely where ‘the just made perfect’ dwell, Earth’s voice of highest eulogy Is like the bubble of the far-off sea; A sigh upon the grave Scarce moving the frail flowers that o’er its surface wave.”

We have thus far glanced at the principal scenes and circumstances, which appear to have had an influence in forming the character of Mrs. Sigourney, and preparing her genius for flight. As Miss Huntley, she gave no works to the press except those to which allusion has been made, viz: “Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse,” and a memoir of her friend, Miss Hyde. The “Sketch of Connecticut, forty years since,” was, however, one of her earliest productions, though not published until 1824. It is honourable to her sensibilities, that so large a portion of these works was prompted by the grateful feelings of the heart. Her later emanations are enriched with deeper trains of thought, and melodies of higher and more varied power, but these are the genuine outpourings of affection—the first fruits of mind, bathed in the dew of life’s morning, and laid upon the altar of gratitude.

The marriage of Miss Huntley with Charles Sigourney, Esq., merchant of Hartford, took place at Norwich, June 16th, 1819.

Mrs. Sigourney’s domestic life has been varied with frequent excursions and tours, which have rendered her familiar with the scenery and society of most parts of her own country, and in 1840, she went to Europe, and remained there nearly a year, visiting England, Scotland, and France. “Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands,” published in 1843, and “Scenes in my Native Land,” published in 1845, afford sufficient evidence that travelling has had a conspicuous agency in giving richness and variety to her productions.

A personal stranger to Mrs. Sigourney, acquainted only with her varied literary pursuits and numerous writings, might be disposed to think that they occupied her whole time, and that she had accomplished little else in life. Such an assumption would be entirely at variance with the truth. The popular, but now somewhat stale notion, that female writers are, of course, negligent in personal costume, domestic thrift, and all those social offices which are woman’s appropriate and beautiful sphere of action, can never prop its baseless and falling fabric with her example. She has sacrificed no womanly or household duty, no office of friendship or benevolence for the society of the muses. That she is able to perform so much in so many varied departments of literature and social obligation, is owing to her diligence. She acquired in early life that lesson—simple, homely, but invaluable—to make the most of passing time. Hours are seeds of gold; she has not sown them on the wind, but planted them in good ground, and the harvest is consequently a hundred fold.