cover you with disgrace. There is no
foible more common than this, and there is none more supremely
ridiculous.

One boy happens to have rich parents, and he acts as though he
supposed that there was some virtue in his father's money which
pertained to him. He goes to school and struts about, as though he
were lord of the play-ground. Now, every body who sees this, says, it
is a proof that the boy has not much mind. He is a simple boy. If he
had good sense he would perceive that others of his playmates, in
many qualities, surpassed him, and that it became him to be humble
and unostentatious, The mind that is truly great is humble.

We are all disgusted with vanity wherever it appears. Go into a
school-room, and look around upon the appearance of the various pupils
assembled there. You will perhaps see one girl, with head tossed upon
one shoulder, and with a simpering countenance, trying to look pretty.
You speak to her. Instead of receiving a plain, kind, honest answer,
she replies with voice and language and attitude full of affectation.
She thinks she is exciting your admiration. But, on the contrary,
she is exciting disgust and loathing.

You see another girl, whose frank and open countenance proclaims a
sincere and honest heart. All her movements are natural. She manifests
no desire to attract attention. The idea of her own superiority seems
not to enter her mind. As, in the recess, she walks about the
schoolroom, you can detect no airs of self-conceit. She is pleasant
to all her associates. You ask her some question. She answers you
with modesty and unostentation. Now, this girl, without any effort to
attract admiration, is beloved and admired. Every one sees at once
that she is a girl of good sense. She knows too much to be vain. She
will never want for friends. This is the kind of character which
insures usefulness and happiness.

A little girl who had rich parents, and was handsome in personal
appearance, was very vain of her beauty and of her father's wealth.
She disgusted all her school-mates by her conceit. And though she
seemed to think that every one ought to admire her, she was beloved
by none. She at last left school, a vain, disgusting girl. A young
man, who was so simple as to fall in love with this piece of pride
and affectation, at length married her. For a few years the property
which she received of her father supported them. But soon her father
died, and her husband grew dissipated, and before