{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
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White is your sons wife," He cast one
lingering look upon his father, his mothers
grave, and left the spot.


"Not my son." broke in kissing sounds
from the old mans lips, and he, too, was
gone. Father and son met no more on
earth


True to his word, Robert that night led


to the altar his blushing bride, and would


have been happy but for his fathers frowns.


The farm on which Peter White resi-
ded was Roberts own, the gift Of a distant
relative, twas all tho properly he owned;
twas now his sole hope-his only means
Of support. He could not pursue his stu
dies; he could not tread the brilliant path he
had anticipated; no, his former education
was now useless his former hopes were
now blasted he must descend from the
high station he had occupied; must cast a.
side the worldly and fictitious rank Of gen
tleman, and settle down into plain, quiet,
and uncared for tiller of the soil. He had
too much solid sense to hesitate, or spend
the little he had in idle show and pleasure,
when he knew it was the only course left
to him to follow, and too much wisdom to
loose the happiness still felt by foolish re-
grets; tits true he felt the loss of wealth.
the loss Of his fathers love and friendship:
but he would not have hesitated again to
exchange them for the bright being, who
now formed the only source of his Joy; the
fair girl whom he now loved, not for her
sparkling eye and blooming cheek, but the
virtues of her heart-the beauties of her
soul.


Twelve years have glided by-Robert
Devere and the incidents Of his life, have
almost passed from our mind, when we ac-
cidentally heard his name mentioned, it ex-
cited our curiosity, raised old feelings in
our mind, and led US to inquire of him and
his. few months after his marriage, his
father had left his native land, unreconceiled
to his son, and died beneath foreign sky,
carried to his grave by strangers. Death
gave him no time to rob his son by will Of
that, which was his right, and he was cold,
cold dust, ere those who loved him wept
over his memory; for Robert did weep, he
loved his father with all his faults, with the
affection of noble heart and though his
death gave him wealth, opened again to him
a career of ambition, he would have pre-
ferred his life and friendship with beggar's
garb, to the gold of mines but there was
no choice left to him, the wealth which he
had thought lost, was now his own, and
he must use it.


He gave the home of his youth to his
kind father-in-law, removed himself to the
city, mixed with the world, and a few float
ing years raised him to the station he occu-
pied when we heard his name mentioned
"a national counsellor! Rich, great, and
honored; yes, and happy; happy in the re-
speet and confidence of his fellow beings,
happy, in the affection of noble wife, and
happy in the prattle of his little ones; for
he had two OF those links, which not only
tend to bind the hearts of parents more
strongly together; but added to mothers
JOY, and fathers pride, brigh, eyed little
girl, fair haired little boy. What more
could he ask : Nothing. What more could
he wish to add TO his happiness Nothing
What more could man possess on earth
Nothing.


Was his love, were the incidents of his
life, mere chance Was il blind fate that first
led him to meet the being who had been,
and was still, the source of all his low
Was it mere accident that two beings thus
formed for each others happiness, met, lov.
ed, and became one No, we think not.
We do not believe in that blind fate which
makes man toy, play thing in the hands
OF a fictitious principle or being. No,


"I think not thus


II was the unerrng sense of happiness


That led them gently TO each others arms;


A prophecy more sure than hope can be;


And they obeyed it."


Beings thus brought together, must be
happy And, no matter whether dwelling