45/100 Vanity

45. Vanity

There is no vice or folly that requires so much nicety and skill to manage as vanity, nor any which, by ill-management, makes so contemptible a figure. The desire of being thought wise is often a hindrance to being so, for such a one is often more desirous of letting the world see what knowledge he hath than to learn of others that which he wants. Men are more apt to be vain on account of those qualities which they fondly believe they have than of those which they really possess Some would be thought to do great things who are but tools or instruments, like the fool who fancied he played upon the organ when he only blew the bellows.

Be not so greedy of popular applause as to forget that the same breath which blows up a fire may blow it out again. Vanity, like laudanum and other poisonous medicines, is beneficial in small, though injurious in large, quantities. Be not vain of your want of vanity. When you hear the phrase, "I may say without vanity," you may be sure some characteristic vanity will follow in the same breath. The most worthless things are sometimes most esteemed. It is not all the world that can pull an humble man down, because God will exalt him. Nor is it all the world that can keep a proud man up, because God will debase him.

Vanity feeds voraciously and abundantly on the richest food that can be served up, or can live on less and meaner diet than any thing of which we can form a conception. The rich and the poor, learned and ignorant, strong and weak,—all have a share in vanity. The humblest Christian is not free from it, and when he is most humble the devil will flatter his vanity by telling him of it. On the other hand, it is with equal relish that it feeds upon vulgarity, coarseness, and fulsome eccentricity,—every thing, in short, by which a person can attract attention. It often takes liberality by the hand, prompts advice, administers reproof, and sometimes perches visibly and gayly on the prayers and sermons in the pulpit. It is an ever-present principle of human nature—a wen on the heart of man; less painful, but equally loathsome as a cancer. It is of all others the most baseless propensity.

O vanity, how little is thy force acknowledged or thine operations discerned! How wantonly dost thou deceive mankind under different disguises! Sometimes thou dost wear the face of pity; sometimes of generosity; nay, thou hast the assurance to put on the robes of religion and the glorious ornaments that belong only to heroic virtue. Vanity is the fruit of ignorance. It thrives most in those places never reached by the air of heaven or the light of the sun. It is a deceitful sweetness, a fruitless labor, a perpetual fear, a dangerous honor; her beginning is without providence, but her end not without repentance. Vanity is so constantly solicitous of self that even where its own claims are not interested it indirectly seeks the aliment which it loves by showing how little is deserved by others.

Charms which, like flowers, lie on the surface—such as preserve figure and dress—conduce to vanity. On the contrary, those excellencies which lie down, like gold, and are discovered with difficulty—such as profoundness of intellect and morality—leave their possessors modest and humble. Vanity ceases to be blameless, even if it is not ennobled, when it is directed to laudable objects, when it prompts us to great and generous actions. Vanity is, indeed, the poison of agreeableness, yet even a poison, when skillfully employed, has a salutary effect in medicine; so has vanity in the commerce and society of the world.

Some intermixture of vainglorious tempers puts life into business, and makes a fit composition for grand enterprises and hazardous endeavors; for men of solid and sober natures have more of the ballast than the sail. Vanity is, in one sense, the antidote to conceit, for, while the former makes us all nerve to the opinions of others, the latter is perfectly satisfied with its opinion of itself. A vain man can not be altogether rude. Desirous as he is of pleasing he fashions his manners after those of others. Therefore, let us give vanity fair quarter wherever we meet with it, being persuaded that it is often productive of good to its possessor, and to others who are within its sphere of action.

Vanity pervades the whole human family to a greater or less degree, as the atmosphere does the globe. It is so anchored in the heart of man that not only in the lower walks of life but in the higher all wish to have their admirers. Those who write against it wish to have the glory of writing well, and those who read it wish the glory of reading well. Vanity calculates but poorly on the vanity of others. What a virtue we should distill from frailty! what a world of pain we would save our brethren, if we would suffer our weakness to be the measure of theirs!

We would rather contend with pride than vanity, because pride has a stand-up way of fighting. You know where it is. It throws its black shadow on you, and you are not at a loss where to strike. But vanity is such a delusive and multified failing that men who fight vanities are like men who fight midgets and butterflies. It is much easier to chase them than to hit them. Vanity may be likened to the mouse nibbling about in the expectation of a crumb; while pride is apt to be like the butcher's dog, who carries off your steak and growls at you as he goes. Pride is never more offensive than when it condescends to be civil; whereas vanity, whenever it forgets itself, naturally assumes good humor.

Extinguish vanity in the mind, and you naturally retrench the little superfluities of garniture and equipage. The flowers will fall of themselves when the root that nourishes them is destroyed. We have nothing of which we should be vain, but much to induce humility. If we have any good qualities they are the gift of God. Let every one guard against this all-pervading principle, and teach their children that it is the shadow of a shade.