Home Scenes, and Home Influence | Page 2

permit?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Of course he should. Some men set a value upon money above every
thing else, and sacrifice all comfort to its accumulation; but I don't
belong to that class. Money is a good gift, because it is the means of
procuring natural blessings. I receive it thankfully, and use it wisely.
You see how I am beginning life."
"I do."
"Well, what do you think of it?"
By this time my observation of things had become more particular, and
I saw many evidences of expenditures that indicated a lavish spirit.
"What rent do you pay?" I asked.
"Three hundred."
I shook my head.
"Too much?" said Brainard.
"I think so."
"Perhaps it is a little high. But you can't get a genteel, comfortable
house, in a good neighbourhood, for any thing less."
As it was my first visit to the young couple, who were but a few weeks
past their honey-moon, I did not feel like questioning the propriety of
my friend's conduct to the serious extent he was about involving
himself; and so evaded replying to this excuse for taking at least a
hundred dollars more rent upon himself than he was justified in doing
by his circumstances, he being simply a clerk, with a salary of one
thousand dollars.
"Rents are high," was my apparently indifferent answer.
"Too high," said he. "A man who wants a pleasant house has to pay for
it. This is my experience."
The subject of conversation changed; I passed an agreeable evening; at
the close of which I left my friend and his lovely young bride in their
comfortable home.

What I had seen and heard during the few hours spent with Brainard
made me fear that he was about committing a too common error. His
ideas of comfort were not 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 my friend, smiling.
"Nothing very elegant, but as good as we can afford, and with that we
have made up our minds to be content."
"If all the world were as wise, all the world would be happier," I
remarked.
"Perhaps so," returned Tyler. "Brainard tried to get me into a house like
the one he occupies; but