to themselves, that they desire to subject all around them to their will; while many who are surrounded by comforts and conveniences, or even by luxuries, cherish and openly express an eager longing for increased riches. Possibly the addition sought may not be large,—sufficient only to achieve some supposed good purpose, or to place us on a level with our friends. But as wealth increases so does expenditure. We have a larger house and more servants; enlarged expenses in many directions; and to meet these a further enlargement of means is requisite. It is probably easier to be contented with a small than with a more ample amount of wealth; because, in the former case, the natural desires being accustomed to denial and submission cease to be clamorous; while, in the latter, they become exacting in proportion to the degree of habitual indulgence. Besides, so long as our pecuniary means are confined by narrow limits, our wishes also are limited to simple and natural objects that are useful in themselves and conducive to our welfare; while those that grow out of large possessions are usually for luxuries purely artificial and conventional, productive of no real advantage, and that foster the pride and vanity, or mere love of pleasure, in which they originate. And, however paradoxical the assertion may appear, the simpler our desires—after the necessities of nature are satisfied—the more they belong to our common humanity, and the less to class distinctions, the more easily are they restrained. There is often more contentment in the narrow home where nutritious food and comfortable clothing are sometimes scantly supplied, and never in excess; more enjoyment in its small possessions and few relaxations;
