His home had still remaining much solid happiness, for Julia lived to participate his fortune, to share his affliction, and strengthen his hopes; and the genial ardors of her youth, with love of Nature, and delight in rural fellowships, though calmed and refined by suffering, were yet her being's light and joy. Her simple home, and its peaceful scenes, and lovely enjoyments, were symbols to her mind, not unprophetic of the home of the soul on high. It was a simple home, for their new frame house was not then commenced, except in the piles of boards and shingles that were gathering around the barn; but what if there was no embroidered muslin, or garish damask at the windows, and they looked through little narrow panes of blue and blistered glass? Did not their eyes find a recompense in the twinkling wings and warbling songs that flitted and floated in the air around? and in glorious landscapes of fields, and waters, and woods, that a glance could catch and hold through the smallest light! Did not the curtains of verdure beneath and about, and the infinite canopy of splendid sky above, make the bravest of all ambitious ornaments hung by man or woman's hands, look little and coarse as a rag of baize? One only sorrow remained for Julia to conquer; and how could the triumph be won? She sorrowed still for the loss of her lovely first-born. She could not doubt but God permitted it in love. Perhaps had Clinton been spared, he might have imbibed some sentiment of evil, which would have poisoned his beautiful nature and prompted him away into paths of sin. Young Walter Mowry was a prodigal, and likely to bring down his poor old mother in sorrow to the grave. George Richmond had no idea of the value of the money left him as a father's hard-earned legacy; no self-reliance; and was likely to die miserable and poor. Perhaps, had Clinton lived to enjoy the blessings of such a home, he had been a poor prodigal, or met misfortunes and griefs. Then she must acknowledge, that while her heart had been afflicted, it had been softened and refined; while her faith had been tried, it had grown strong and buoyant as an eagle's wings. Heaven seemed all about her now, as it had not seemed before her bereavement; the lights of its holy joy came gleaming through the veil; and its pure inhabitants were felt to range around, and sympathize, and bless. As a central bliss of existence, Fanny had grown to early womanhood, while her mother seemed still young to be her companion, and Fanny was blooming as the flowers and trees that had been her communicants, pure as the fountains that mirrored her loveliness, and blithe as the birds that welcomed her rural walks. Fanny stood above a medium height, and though she stooped a little at the wool-wheel, and in a ramble on the hills, she presented a comely figure and interesting mien.