ot in keeping with his circumstances. Some
days subsequently I saw my friend and his wife riding out in a
handsome vehicle, drawn by a gay horse.

"Taking their comfort," said I, as I paused and looked upon the
happy young couple.

Not long after, I saw them dashing off again to enjoy an afternoon's
ride. Next, I met them at a fashionable concert.

"Have you been to the opera yet?" asked Brainard, leaning forward to
the seat that I occupied just in front of him.

"No," was my answer.

"Then there is a treat in store for you. We go twice, and sometimes
oftener, every week. Truffi, Benedetti, Rosi--oh! they are
enchanting."

"Rather expensive," said I.

"It does cost something," and Brainard shrugged his shoulders. "But
I think it's money well spent. You know that I go in for the
comforts of life."

And he leaned back, while I thought I perceived a slight shadow flit
across his face. A singer came forward at the moment, and no more
was said.

"It is possible," thought I, "in seeking after comfort, to get into
the wrong road. I am afraid my young friends are about committing
this error."

I not only suggested as much to Brainard soon afterwards, but
actually presented a serious remonstrance against the course of life
he had adopted. But he only smiled at the fears I expressed, and
said he understood perfectly the nature of the ground he was
treading. Thus it is with most young persons. Be their views true or
false, they act upon them, in spite of all counsel from the more
experienced, and in the end reap their harvest of trouble or
pleasure, as the ease may be. Pride, which stimulates the desire to
make a certain appearance in the world, is generally more at fault
than a wish to secure the comforts of which my friend talked so
much.

I had another acquaintance, by the name of Tyler, who was married
about the same time with Brainard. His tastes were as well
cultivated as those of the former, and his income was as large; yet,
in beginning the world, he had shown more prudence and a wise
forecast. I found him in a small, neat house, at a rent of one
hundred and seventy dollars. His furniture was not costly, but in
good taste and keeping with the house and his circumstances. As for
real comfort, as far as I could see, the preponderance was rather in
his favour.

"This is really comfortable," said I, glancing around the room in
which he received me on the occasion of my first visit.

"We think so," replied