The Belmont chronicle, and farmers, mechanics and manufacturers advocate. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1848-1855, 1853-03-04

y
and play tune. Music softens the recollec
tions of the past. feel unusually sad th
evening-the hours appear lnysteriously long
Twill, my dear mother, with the creates
of pleasure: and going to the harp she gentl,
, ran her delicate fingers over the strings
Sister Mary, will you not sing for me! sh,
said, addressing lovely girl of some eghteer
summers, who sat gazing from the window
wrapped in deep thought. A tear stood il
her large dark eye, and throwing back he
locks of jetty hair, she began in voice cleal
and melodous, "my brother has left me-
The rich melody was sung in afaltering tone
and the gentle breeze waited it far away o'er
the deep still lake. The last note had ceas.
ed to ybrate, and the inmates of that cottage
sat wrapped in their own medtations, gloomy
or pleasant as it might happen to be. All
there was silent, yet they heard not the light
ply of the oar as it dipped in the silvery wa
tiers. Now it is distinctly to be seen in the
clear moonlight, and anon hid by the droop-
ing willows, as they bathe their leafy BRAN
ches in natures mirror. The shaded lamp
threw mild glow of slvery light around the
apartment. Laura had thrown herself upon
the sofa, and for some time had remained per-
fectly silent. Mother, at last she exclaimed,
has 1t not been five years since brother
Charles left us! Yes, my child, five long
years have flown by, and have no tidings
from my son. Can he have died in distant
land, without mothers tender hand 10
smoothe his dying pillow, or the'gentle voice
OF dearly loved sister to cheer his last mo-
ments? 1t, cannot be; something from within
tells me that he will yet return. Can it, will
itsbe, that my dear boy may yet return, my
once noble and lovely son! So saying, she
hid her face in her hands, and burst into tears.
Mrs. Melville was lady of good standing in
the city of P, of high moral worth and
mental endowment Traces of beauty still
fingered about her we'll defined features,-
her dark auburn hair was slightly silvered, not
by the blighting frostss sof many winters, but
by sorrows whitening touch. She had three
lovely children, Charles, Mary and Laura.
Being early left widow, the responsible
ty devolving upon her was deeply felt, and
she earnestly strove to educate her children,
not only mentally but morally and religiously:
and having deep sense of the Importance of
the latter, her prayers arose daily for bless
ing upon them. Then wonder not at her
sorrowful and detected air, when her only
son had fallen victim to intemperance, and
had deserted her, and gone to follow out his
downward. COURSE ,ssunrestrained, in foreign
lands.
He finished his education at an early age,
with great honors, and returnedssto his native
city, flushed with the success of theEpast and
high hopes fol; ;his future aggrandizement and
honor, to pursue the study of the profession
he had chosen, and to be protector and COM
forter to his mother, the residue of her days.
His figure was tall and commanding, with
broad intellectual brow. His mild dark eye
sparkling with genius, and his generous heart
He was sympathyzing and liberal to fault.
Having in his possession wealth, talents and
education, he was surrounded by many friends,
if those can be styled such, who show them
selves friends only in the sunshine of pros
perity, and withdraw when the dark clouds
of adversely DER cast the scenery around.
Courted, admired, flattered, his manifold bless
ings now proved to him curse. But among
the many friends that surrounded him there
was one who could, without doubt, be styled
a true friend. George Fulton attended the |
same institution, recited in the same classes,
and lad been a competitor for the honors
with Charles Melville, and was therefore full |
ly acquainted with the talents and noble
heart possessed by Charles, and he loved him
tor his worth alone. Fulton possessed none
of the advantages of his friend Melville, ex-
cept good head and generous heart. Know
ing his future standing upon the stage of
life depended upon an upright and virtuous
course, he took the first step by assoeiating
himself with the Sons of Temperance. He
felt the solid foundation upon which he stood,
and wished not to stand alone. With many
forebodings for the future he observed the
perncous effects likely to result from the
example and persuasions Of Charles associ-
ates. Diligently he sought to prove to him
the necessity of becoming member of their
society. He urged and entreated him, but
alas! all his efforts proved fruitless. C.
placed much confidence in his own strength.
His friends advice passed unheeded by. The
friendly glass must be taken, his friends pleas
ed. The weekly club must be attended, he
had to do so,-it become man of his station |
and wealth. Unconsciousy down, down, the .
easy path to infamy, he trod, until, alas, the
habit was formed. He was bound by the
hellsh chains of intemperance. He sunk to ,
a level with the swine that wallow in the
mire. Friends forsook him, riches going
but his friend George Fulton forsook him not.
He made every excrtion in his power to save
him, but all availed nothing. Georges en-
treaties and his mothers tears added only to
the bitterness of his feelings. Stung with
remorse at his fallen station, and madening
thirst raging within, he left, as we have sta
ted before, for distant land, where, unre-
strained, he could indulge his evil appetite,
and his heart broken mother left tho gay
scenes Of former days, and sought retirement
and repose in an elegant cottage ON the shore
of a lake, the situation of which was alike
solitary and beautiful.
Nature was hushed-the hum of busy life
had ceased. The streets which but few
hours before teemed with living throng
were now deserted, and in the populous city
of p naught disturbed the nightly silence,
save the hurried football of some late wan
i.