MOORE’S IIURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
f$ortiraL 
THE FAMILY JEWEL. 
Uadiakt little household treasure, 
Magnet of the ingle side! 
Not a star in night’s broad cluster 
Shines with softer, purer lustre, 
Fondest parents’ hope'and pride! 
Words, though passion-lit, and burning, 
Might not breathe the joy they feel, 
That their lives, in one united, 
By thy smiles are daily lighted, 
Love conuubial's golden seal. 
Pure as in thy primal setting 
In thy parents’ love enshrined, 
Be thou long their spotless treasure, 
Source of hope and sacred pleasure, 
Pearl of truth, by grace refined. 
Then shall He, the great Refiner, 
When, ere long, his eye shall roam 
Through the earth for “jewels,” beaming 
Fresh in light from glory streaming, 
Snatch thee to his bosom home. 
Cljt Utiml fketrjj Itofe. 
[Written expressly for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE brothers; 
OR, WHICH MADE THE BETTER CHOICE? 
BY EDWARD WEBSTER, ESQ. 
John and James Kent were sons o.f a 
poor, honest, hard working man, who was 
blessed with a large family of children, of 
which the two above named boys were the 
oldest. Sprightly, good looking lads they 
were too, with round, ruddy faces, though 
somewhat embrowned by exposure to tho 
rain and sun; and with minds as active and 
healthful, and morally as beautiful, as their 
bodies were physically. I speak of these 
things because I like to begin at the begin¬ 
ning. and not because there is anything re¬ 
markable in the facts themselves; for it has 
generally been observed sinco tho time 
whereof the memory of man runneth not 
to the contrary,” that poor, honest, hard 
working men have largo families of chil¬ 
dren ; and what is equally as true, they are 
much more likely to be both morally and 
physically beautiful, and intellectually su¬ 
perior to the pampered and enervate off¬ 
spring of wealth and power. Thank God ! 
there is no copy right for a handsome face, 
and no patent for intellectual pre-eminence. 
These are gifts of a kind Providence, be- 
stowod indiscriminately upon mankind, and 
are even more likely to be produced amongst 
tho “ lower million” than tho “ upper ten.” 
Many a possessor of a fortune I can call to 
mind, who, if I were he, setting paternal af¬ 
fection out of the account, would give all 
his worldly wealth in tho exchange between 
his own weak, imbecile offspring, and the 
bright active children of such a man as old 
Peter Kent. 
John and James, with their younger broth¬ 
ers and sisters, wero universally favorites 
with the district school masters and mis¬ 
tresses. To a causal observer they seemed 
to master almost intuitive by the studies pur¬ 
sued in our Common Schools. This how- 
ovor was not tho fact ; they progressed rap¬ 
idly, but they studied diligently. Their 
minds were early disciplined, for they had 
an excellent mother who in the outset bent 
the twig in tho right direction. Joint’s mind 
was naturally more active than James’, and 
ho frequently distanced tho latter in a mu¬ 
tual pursuit; but James possessed the ad¬ 
vantage in a difficult undertaking of holding- 
out more firmly to the end. John was ex¬ 
ceedingly anxious to retain the good opinion 
of his acquaintances, and would be more 
likely to inquire what people would think 
of an act, than what its intrinsic merit might 
bo;—James would act uprightly, let the 
world say what it would. Tho applause of 
men would move the one to intense action; 
tho consciousness of performing a meritori¬ 
ous deed, or of achieving a mental triumph, 
would call out all tho powers of the other. 
Nothing passed around him unobserved, and 
nothing Avas allowed to slip which could give 
him a now idea. Ho would find exquisite 
pleasure in studying the operations of a com¬ 
plicated machine. Ho would follow for a 
whole day a party of Engineers, watching 
their evolutions and if some of them were 
good-natured enough to let tho inquisitive 
boy look.at the target through one of their 
splendid levels, or observe tho taking of an 
anglo with the Transit, he would be perfect¬ 
ly happy. Tho only time ho ever played 
truant at school, was to see the first loco- 
motivo with a train of cars that passed thro’ 
tho town; and,although it cost him aflagel- 
lagtion from tho pedagogue, ho got an idea 
of the application of steam to locomotion— 
saw the practical working of the wonderful 
machine, and was answered half a dozen 
civil questions in reference to the points and 
mettlo of the Demon Steed by his second 
groom, to wit, the stoker. 
But time passed on with those boys, as it 
does with all. The golden days of youth 
rolled by, and wero swallowed up in the urr- 
! fathomablo ocean of the past. John had 
\ entered a large drygoods store as an errand 
| boy at first, advancing step by step, until lie 
finally became an expert salesman. James 
followed the bent of his genius likewise, by 
first carrying and driving stakes for a corps 
of engineers, then a chain, and finally reach¬ 
ed tho position of second assistant with a 
salary of eight hundred dollars year. One 
Thanksgiving day the young men met, as 
was their wont, with all their brothers and 
sisters, under tho paternal roof. Ilumblo 
though it was, the old house was a.sacred 
spot to them—hallowed by all their early 
recollections, and endeared by every tie that 
binds one to his childhood’s homo. They 
occupied on such occasions the same cham¬ 
ber and tho same bed, for in a home like 
theirs, overflowing with inmates, it was ne¬ 
cessary to economize the room. 
“James,” said John, ono night after they 
had retired, “ I will toll you a secret, but 
you must say nothing about it at present.— 
I am going to be married before long.” 
“ And so am I,” said James. 
“ Well, that is tit for tat, with a witness,” 
answered John. 
“I will tell you all about my love affair 
and then you must tell me about yours.— 
Mine is an heiress, Jim !—an heiress, I say ! 
She is worth ten thousand dollars in clean 
cash, and such a beauty, and so accomplish¬ 
ed too ! She has been the reigning hello in 
B- , all this winter, and has been break¬ 
ing hearts by the score. She has had a 
dozen matrimonial offers from men of rank 
and wealth, but she has chosen me. It’s a 
triumph worth all tho labor it has cost to 
win her, for she is splendidly educated, and 
would do honor to any mansion. I tell you 
Jim, my fortune is made!” 
“I am afraid,” responded his brother, 
“ you do not look upon the matter with quite 
sufficient coolness; you must calculate”— 
“ Away with your calculation ! Your very 
thoughts are a stereotyped edition of one of 
your mathematical books. I could almost 
swear that I can read sines, co-sines, and 
tangents in the lineaments of your face; and 
that a curve of double curvature is trying 
to ttvist its way out every time you open 
your mouth. I calculate ! What’s tho use 
of calculating when such a prize as this turns 
up ? But what sortof a flame is yours, Jim? 
Is she worth as much as mine T 
“ I trust she is.” 
“ What! ten thousand ? Is it cash ? Has 
she possession of it in her own right ?” 
“ No; neither.” 
“Is it in land, or stocks, or what is it ? Is 
it present or prospective ? Is her father 
wealthy, or has she a rich uncle who will 
make her his heiress T 
“ No; none of these things. It was her 
intrinsic value I spoke of, for she is not tho 
possessor of fifty dollars in the world, and 
has nothing in expectancy. She is the only 
daughter of a poor widow lady, who occu¬ 
pies a house not half so good as this one wo 
were born in, and tho daughter supports 
herself by teaching. She understands well 
how to mango tho economy of a household, 
and is good looking, but not handsome; 
modest and intelligent, high-minded and 
pure. She is kind and devoted to her moth¬ 
er, and is, I trust, as ardently attached to me 
as I certainly am to her.” 
“Jim ! I am afraid you are making a fool 
of yourself!” 
“I might possibly retort that upon you, 
John. I have studied her character with 
great care, and do not venture blindly. I 
am content, at all events, to abide tho re¬ 
sult, and timo will determine which of us 
has made the better choice ” 
So the brothers talked—not angrily or in 
an ill spirit,— each most sincerely wishing 
the other well, each in full confidence of tho 
wisdom of his own choice, and somewhat 
distrustful of tho other. John thought 
James was throwing himself away upon a 
portionless bride, when ho might marry a 
fortune. James believed his elder brother 
was blinded by tho eclat of tho thing, and 
was selling himself for gold. 
Both tho brothers wero married as they 
had anticipated, and at about tho same time; 
and both, with their new brides, camo to visit 
at their father’s house. Mrs. John Kent was 
a lady of pretensions quite equal to her 
capital. She could not do housowork—not 
she ; it was not taught whero she was edu¬ 
cated. Sho could play the piano most ex¬ 
quisitely, (so she said,) but unfortunately 
there was none in tho house of old Peter 
Kent, and tho nearest approach to it, even 
in shape, was a chest of drawers. John was 
somewhat pained and mortified at the igno¬ 
rance his new bride displayed of common 
things. Old Peter and his good wife wero 
people of plain, sound sense, but knew noth¬ 
ing of high life; and consequently were 
obliged to listen with sealed lips to the fine 
speeches, and unintelligible harangues of 
their new daughter-in-law, fearful to reply 
lost they might say something displeasing to 
her, and anything but happy in her pres¬ 
ence. They shrewdly suspected, what was 
really tho caso, that she looked down with 
a lofty contempt upon them, and upon all 
connected with them except herself. She 
wondered, when discussing with James the 
propriety of ladies studying mathamatics, 
how they could ever think of meddling with 
such low stuff as vuglar fractions. 
IIow different in manner was her sister- 
in law, Susan Kent. Quiet and unassuming 
—pleased with every effort put forth to 
gratify hei’—she was ever ready to repay in 
kind; and, ardently attached to her husband, 
who was every way worthy of her love, she 
was earnestly desirous of pleasing and hon¬ 
oring his parents. Well informed on all 
subjects, and really accomplished, sho en¬ 
tered at oncO into all their tastes and pur¬ 
suits, and adapted herself so readily to their 
ways as to make them feel at the outset as 
if they had known her for years, and to re¬ 
ceive her into their hearts as one of then- 
own children. She could not play the piano 
it is true'; but sho had a musical and well 
trained voice for the village choir. She 
could not paint or embroider, but she was a 
fast knitter and an elegant seamstress. She 
had never studied French, or Italian, but 
she was an excellent grammarian in her own 
vernacular. She was well versed in house¬ 
hold matters, and during her stay at the 
early homo of her husband, lent a helping 
hand to tho old lady in her domestic duties. 
When the time at longth arrived for clos¬ 
ing the visit, the good old people bade then- 
children adieu with regret; mingled how¬ 
ever, so far as tho wife of John was con¬ 
cerned, with a feeling of relief at her de¬ 
parture, and entertaining a secret opinion, 
that despite the fortune John had married 
with hor, James had made the better choice. 
John came into possession of his wife’s 
fortune, and set up business on his own ac¬ 
count. Of course, in connection with his 
business, ho was obliged to keep up a do¬ 
mestic establishment commensurate to the 
fortune he had received. Parties must be 
given—servants must bo hired to superin¬ 
tend as well as perform the household duties, 
—his brilliant wife must dress extravagantly, 
go out frequently, and expend money fool¬ 
ishly. John Kent was a good business man. 
and was prosperous in ono sense, that is to 
say, he purchased judiciously, and sold at a 
profit; but his profits wero drawn out of 
their legitimate channels, drop by drop, like 
the life blood from the heart of a dying man, 
in order to meet tho drafts made upon them 
by a fashionable wife. Ho worked in his 
business like a slave—he was respected and 
trusted as an upright man—hut ho was un¬ 
happy in his domestic relations. Two or 
three children were in course of time born 
to them, but Mrs. Kent could not think of 
degrading herself to tho drudgery of a nur¬ 
sery, so they wero entrusted to tho caro of 
hired nurses, and as might have been ex¬ 
pected, died in infancy. If at anytime her 
husband attempted to remonstrate against 
her extravagance, ho was sure to raise a do¬ 
mestic storm ; and was reminded of the fact 
that she set him up in business—that tho 
capital in the concern was hers, and she had 
a right to at least a portion of the profits. 
So, like a good, peace-loving spouse, lie con¬ 
tented himself by laboring on in the hope 
that good fortune and his own skill would 
repair tho sad inroads made upon his pecu¬ 
niary means. 
How different was tho course adopted by 
his brother James. He rented a small house, 
furnished it cheaply but comfortably, and 
commenced with his young and loving wife 
tho joint pilgrimage of life. He had but five 
hundred dollars in tho world, and his wife 
had nothing except a few domostie articlos 
which she had managed to lay by from timo 
to timo. Ho was also obliged to purchase 
an expensive instrument for his profession, 
half the price of which had to be paid down. 
But thoy were contented and happy. Pru¬ 
dent and careful—more desirous of interna! 
comfort than external show—few men of 
ample means had a pleasanter homo than 
James Kent. Fortune did not come upon 
him in a shower, but was distilled gently as 
tho dews of heaven; and ho concluded the 
first year of his married life, by laying up* 
three hundred dollars of his salary, the nu¬ 
cleus of a small fortune. Tho next year his 
salary was advanced to a thousand dollars, 
and ho now felt sure, if life and health were 
spared him, of a competence in a very few 
years. 
“ Susan,” he said to his wife the first win¬ 
ter after they were married, “ I have just 
received my last quarter’s salary. You must 
have a new bonnet and some other winter 
clothing, and hero are twenty-five dollars 
for you.” 
“No, James,” she answered, “I can get 
along without any addition to my wardrobo 
this winter. You have not yet paid tho 
whole bill for your Theodolite; settle that 
first, and we will talk about the bonnet af¬ 
terwards.” 
“The instrument was sold me for the bal¬ 
ance on six months time, and another quar¬ 
ter will become due before that.” 
“ Yes,” replied his wife, “but you may be 
sick, and in that case your salary will stop. 
Let us attend to necessaries before we think 
of superfluities.” 
“You must not be too parsimonious, Su¬ 
san. Something must ho sacrificed to tho 
good opinion of mankind.” 
“Nothing will secure tl^e good opinion of 
others more surely than to fulfil all our en¬ 
gagements ; and pecuniary ones are by no 
means the least. Pay up your debts and 1 
will engage you shall not be ashamed of my 
personal appearance, even with my old bon¬ 
net. Mrs. Millinet will trim it over, so as to 
render it no discredit even to a young wife.” 
“Well, you are right in the matter, I have 
no doubt,” responded James; “ there is one 
thing more. I did not see your name on 
the subscription list for tho African Mission. 
Mrs. Showforth headed tho paper with a do¬ 
nation of fifty dollars.” 
“No, I did not think it best to sign any¬ 
thing,” said Susan; “the charity is too re¬ 
mote, and its object too uncertain.” 
“You know 1 gave you ten dollars last 
week to expend for charitable purposes.” 
“ Yes: and poor, sick Mrs. Jones, with her 
helpless young family, received a barrel of 
flour and two cords of wood, without even 
suspecting it was paid for by tho charity 
money of James Kent.” 
He could say no more; but pressing his 
young wife to his bosom, the tear of unut¬ 
terable sympathy and affection glistened in 
his eyes. 
Five years subsequent to the above inci¬ 
dent, a pecuniary crisis came upon the coun¬ 
try, which prostrated many a business man. 
and swept away in a moment the hard earn¬ 
ed accumulations of years. Too many of 
those who had husbanded their resources 
were unable to weather tho storm; hut such 
men as John Kent, who lived up to the full 
profits of their business, wero inevitably 
wrecked. He came home one evening after 
the last hope had been cut off by the failure 
of a correspondent who was indebted to him 
largely, jaded in spirit, and with tho certain 
prospect of bankruptcy staring him in tho 
faco. No prattle of innocent childhood met 
his ear, for his three little ones wore sleep¬ 
ing in tho dust of tho grave. No cheerful 
countenance of a wife greeted him at the 
door, for storm rather than sunshine was 
usually settled upon Mrs. Kent’s domestic 
brow; and she was happy only in a brilliant 
drawing-room surrounded by a crowd. 
“Mr. Kent,” said she, breaking in upon a 
gloomy revery in which lie was indulging, 
“I want four hundred dollars to purchase a 
Cashmere shawl. They are all tho rage just 
now, and no lady of any pretention to gen¬ 
tility can do without one.” 
“Four hundred dollars fora shawl, and 
at such a time as this!” muttered Kent; 
“ do you not know it is a time of great finan¬ 
cial embarrassment ?” 
“I know nothing about that, but I do 
know you had ten thousand dollars of mine 
to invest in your business, and more than 
once before this have grudged me a portion 
of it back, even for my necessary personal 
attire.” 
“Four hundred dollar shawls, and other 
things to correspond, necessary personal at¬ 
tire! You have drawn out of the business 
each year ten per cent, on every dollar you 
let mo have, and now you complain of par¬ 
simony on my part. Look at brother James’ 
family; his home is a paradiso, with a love¬ 
ly wife and three fine children, whilst we 
are childless ! She is contented and happy, 
with everything comfortablo around her, at 
one-fifth the expense it costs us to live; and 
I venture to say, she never had an article of 
dress or ornament that cost over thirty dol¬ 
lars in her life.” 
“ She nover brought him a cent of money.” 
“No ! but sho brought him tho qualities 
of a true and noble wife, which are far bet¬ 
ter than sterling gold.” 
“ I wish you, sir, to distinctly understand, 
that Mrs. James Kent and all such domestic 
drudges are no patterns for mo !” 
“ I understand that too well; I wish to 
God they were ! I should not now bo the 
wretcliod bankrupt that I am.” 
“A bankrupt ?” 
“Yes; a bankrupt beyond hope of re¬ 
demption !—and that is not the worst either. 
My brother James is on my paper six thou¬ 
sand dollars, and I am unable to protect 
him. It will sweep away every dollar he hag 
saved for the past five years.” 
“And is all my money sunk in the concern 
also ?” inquired his wife. 
“Yes, all that the law can touch. For¬ 
tunately, I was considerate enough at the 
time of marriage, to settle on you a jointure 
of threo thousand dollars, which will save 
you from want, at least. As for myself, the 
course is marked out.” 
Poor J olin Kent received no comfort from 
his wife, in the midst of his misfortunes.— 
Bitter reproaches for the loss of her monoy, 
and lamentations over her own degradation 
from the high position she had held in the 
world of fashion, wore her only themes; and 
the calamity, which invovlcd others also in 
pecuniary ruin, was utterly disregarded in 
every ether light. Selfishness, unmitigated 
selfishness, stood out in such hideous de¬ 
formity, as to render her repulsive to one 
who should bo, and who generally is, tho last 
to seo a woman’s faults—namely?her hus¬ 
band, The failure, however, could not bo 
averted, and John Kent became a bankrupt. 
When the news of his brother’s failure 
first came to James, and he learned too truly 
that it would involve him also, he went home 
to his family heavier in heart than he had 
ever felt before. His wife was not long in 
learning the cause of his dejection. 
“ Will it take all, James ?” sho inquired. 
“ Yes, every dollar. John has made a 
general assignment for the benefit of all his 
creditors alike. He is too honorable to pro¬ 
tect ono at tho expense of another, but his 
assets, all told, will only pay about fifty per 
cent, of his liabilities. I am on his paper 
for six thousand dollars, and consequently 
will have three thousand of it to pay, which 
I can do by calling in all my funds. It will 
distress some men to whom I have lent 
money, but necessity knows no law. I am 
glad however, that, although it will trouble 
some of them to raise it in such a time as 
this, they can do so without ruin to thom- 
selvos. We shall be able to save our house¬ 
hold stuff, and my instruments; so let it go. 
I can earn three thousand dollars more in 
the same way I earned that, and in less timo. 
I would not mind it, dear Sue, if it did not 
render you and our children beggars.” 
“Oh! do not say so James,” oxclaimed 
his wife. “ We are rich—rich in health, rich 
in each others love, and rich in our children. 
Let us rather be thankful for what we have 
left us, than lament over what wo have lost. 
Pay up all if possible, and wo will then wipe 
off tho slate and commence again ; we know 
how now better than we did before, and it 
is far better for us that this misfortuno camo 
upon us now, than later in life. We are not 
so poor as you imagine, either,” sho added 
archly, “unless things have changed sadly 
within the five years of our married life.— 
Did you not tell John you was going to mar¬ 
ry a girl worth ten thousand dollars , and am 
I worth less now ?” 
“More! a thousand times more!” cried 
James; “I did not know then, although I 
thought I did, the priceless value of tho 
treasure I was winning. We will commenco 
again, cheerful and stout-hearted, for I feel 
myself prepared for anything when I have 
such a wife as you to cheer me on.” 
And he did begin again; turnod out tho 
whole of tho three thousand dollars ho had 
earned as an engineer, to John’s creditors, 
and then, immersing himself in boots of un¬ 
conscionable length, as engineers usually do 
he shouldered his tripod once moro, and 
took up his march along the line of the new 
canal. Threo years subsequently found him 
again tho possessor of nearly tho same sum 
he had lost, well invested and liablo to no 
contingencies. 
Poor John ! his peace was destroyed by 
tho complainings of a heartless, discontent¬ 
ed and unhappy wife; anil securing her in 
the possession of her jointure, he left his na¬ 
tive State for the Pacific shore, never to re¬ 
turn. He reached California in tho midst 
of the gold excitement, secured and shipped 
to tire care of his brother James, enough 
gold dust to pay up every dollar of his in¬ 
debtedness, and also to refund to his wife 
the wholo sum of money he had received 
from her. Broken in constitution, by tho 
privations and hardships encountered in tho 
mines, he embarked for home in the steam¬ 
ship Golden Gate, but died on tho passage, 
and was buried at sea. Peace to his ashes ! 
He retrieved his character as an honorable 
man, and was sincerely lamented by his 
friends at home. His wife still lives,— a 
heartless womaji of fashion, courted for her 
wealth and hated for everything beside. 
James Kent, with his excellent wife and 
family, is esteemed and honored ; and as a 
shade of sadness sometimes steals over his 
countenance, and a tear dims his eye when 
he calls to mind the misfortunes of a broth¬ 
er he so dearly loved, tho wife of his bosom 
kisses tho dew-drop from his cheek, settling 
the xuestion in this, as in every other action 
of her life. Which of the two made the 
better choice ? 
There is an elasticity in the human mind 
capable of bearing much, but which will not 
show itself until a certain weight of afflic¬ 
tion be put upon it; its powers may tie com¬ 
pared to those vehicles whoso springs are so 
contrived that they get on smoothly enough 
when loaded, but jolt when they have noth¬ 
ing to boar. 
Verse is like a pair of skates, with which 
a man can fly lightly over the smooth, shin¬ 
ing surface of tho ideal but stumbles horri¬ 
bly on an ordinary road. 
