The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1842-06-28 00:00:00

were still before me!"

--. _
He— paused for a few moments, and then resumed in a tone
of melancholy earnestness—" Yes, George, the first bright
dream of life—the dream of love, of a happy home, of a holy
calling—is gone for ever ; and now—but why trouble you
with my miseries ?"
- -

I strove to lead his thoughts into another channel, and he
listened to me—at least I thought he listened—whilst I
pointed out to him the path of ambition, which was still open
to one gifted as he was. I saw his eyes glisten ; I saw his
cheek flushing, and his breast heaving with excitement ; tears
at length—heavy tears—rolled down his cheeks, and he
sobbed aloud. I painted a bright prospect before him—a
calm and hoppy lot, if not one such as hope had painted in
his earlier years ; but he heard me not. The notes of a
strolling musician turning a French piano beneath the win-
dow, had abstracted alike ear, eye, and sense ; and poor
Melton was alone for a time, communing with the past.
" That strain, George," at length he murmured faintly,
" what memories does it bring to me ! How it whispers to
me of the scenes of boyhood which we trod together—

Of Brignal banks so fresh and fair.
And Greta's woods so green!'

I see them at this moment rising up before me, called up
by the magic of that simple air ; and its notes, like mocking
fiends, drag me to that latticed chamber with its clustering
flowers, which used to " lap the senses in Elysium ;" and to
the presence of that fair being, sweeter than they, and
faded, now, as they are. I hear at this moment the notes
streaming from her parted lips ; I see her, at this moment,
' Trembling to hear the sound
Of her own voice and lute ;

Blushing to look around
On listeners so mute.'

Oh ! I would give worlds to forget all, of which that
simple air brings to me the harrowing memory ; and yet that

poor fellow w

) comes, day by day, to play it beneath my

adow, has had—how often heaven knows !—the last
any which I have possessed; and has seldom indeed, as
w, gone away without some token—aye, for the very pain
ich in his innocence he has inflicted upon me. To how
my a thoughtless happy heart the strolling musician
ings gladness; to how many bereaved ones misery un-

utterable

te chord once struck which vibrated to the seat of poor
ion's grief, I foresaw that the veil which hid all his
t from me would not long be permitted to remain ; nor
I mistaken, for, after a short period, he went on—
.

You knew Maria B-

how formed she was to win

adoration ; how I loved her. But no ; you cannot conceive
the depth of such a love as mine. Yet she, even she it was
whose inconstancy has wrecked this heart. But she knew it
not. Oh, no ! they told her that I was unworthy ; that I
w" an outcast; that I loved another : and she cast me
away to be the thing I am. I have promised, George, that
iuld tell you all, and I will do so ; but why make a long
storyandvof
what may be conveyed in a few words? I was mad,
and wild ; had won honours and a distinguished
.

"''"e, that career which was my chosen one ; I was
courted. and flattered, and I fell;—but not to _quill! I
trifled with the love' which I had vowed t) Maria ; but I
ved her still, and her only • The close of another term—
last—was to make her
mine
the close of that term saw

her another's !"

An exclamation *lids
escaped me roused poor Melton
from the stupor of grief into Which the recital of this deso-
lating tale had cast him.
" .I`lo, no," he interrupted plead-
ingly ; ,4 she was not false; she loved me still—
, But tr*eacherou *tongues Can poison truth ;

And to be wroth with those we love
rnn's heart' •
Doth work like madness in the brain.'
She loved me still with all the deep
love of a wo
but she thought that she had been slighted— '
betrayed • and
the madness of that love itself
pgave her to the arms of
another; and that other a villain." '