Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1862-05-05

| so well remembered. | informed her
that hearing from my friends in the room
above of the illness of her son, / had
come to offer him some delcacies, and
whatever other services I could render
him. He heard from within my voice. &.
Who is there 4 he said.
ventured to look into the room, ho--
ping from him an invitation to enter and
was not disappointed
Will you come in 2 be said.
His mother opened the door, and | en-
tered. One glance suficed to assure me
that the poor ernaoiated creature before me,
was none other than the handsome Charles
Rushton of other days. [ approached the
bed and took bis thin hand in mine. he
gazed long and earnestly at me. Did my
face wake dim memories of the past p
memories of hope, Of love, of JOY? / know
not, but slight qniver passed over bis
face, his hand trembled, bat he spoke not
Charles Rushton,' | said in a voice that
was full of emotion, I have come to see
you for the sake of other dats.' -
He covered his face, then low sobs burst
from his heart. ~
Alas he said, ELLEN Darlington, that
you should meet me thus; oh, this mise
ry!
Misery indeed my heart was too full
to reply; the scalding tears gathered in
my eyes, and coursed silently down my
cheek. For an instant neither of us spoke:
memory was busy with the past then he
said,
Do you remember when we last met p
Yes, at the grand birthday ball nv
father gave to Ella
He shuddered. How well remember
it; the pillars of the piazza wreathed With
flowers, the chandeliers twined with the
same, the band of music, the lovely happy
girls, and loveliest of all, sweet Ella in her
simple dress of white, such things are
among the pure bright memories of my
soul; [ would not part with them for
worlds. You were child then, Ellen
Yes. / was fifteen
1t is fifteen years ago, to day how
strange that we should keep Elias birth
day together. You are thirty years old,
Ellen; how pale and sad you look. You
have known sorrow since we last saw each
oahe. at taas ssfss.efing bali,
} yes, Charles Rushton,' was my reply,
| have known many and deep woes, and
/ have had to wade through dark and stor-
my waters before my feet could gain the
tranquil stream of peace and content
And have gained them 2 he asked.
'Yes but not without many struggle
and hard fought battle, and it was not un-
, til | lifted my eyes above and saw from
, whence my sorrow came, that | became
content to receive them .....
He sighed. shall never gain that en-
viable state, Ellen. My miseries are doub-
led by knowing that l myself was the crea-
, tor of them. | might have been-yes, but
for myself might have been respectable
and happy man. Peace and content can
| never be my portion ...-.
= [ trust that even for you there may
! yet be peace and content in this world,
Charles Rushton.'
r This world |; why I am fast passing
3 away from its sunshine and its storms, its
| pleasures and pains, Ellen. Look, at this
$ hand he said, holding up his thin fingers !;
and you never heard me cough, why,
there is scarcely any life left in me when
the spell is over. All, no this life for
$ me is done the intoxicating bowl, Ellen,
has brought me to despair and the grave
well never mind to talk about it now
| replied, noticing the increasing excite
t ment of his manner, but try and eat some
\ of this jelly have brought you.'
With the assistance of his mother I rails
:, ed him up, OBJ, how fearfulIy weak he was,
and he gratefully received the proffered
delicacy. When I took my leave of him,
be said,
Ellen, you mus: come and see me every
. day. | have not long to live Do not
n tell any one that you have found Charles
| Rushtoo /; let not my memory be again re-
i vived among those who knew me in 9th
:, er days. Let me be as | have been, dead
Y to all the world
d | promised him, he claspcd my hand
e warmly, and We parted. When | reached
S my home | wept bitterly-wept over the
i sad wreck that had just seen, the once
elegant Charles Rushton, brought to the
g grave, as he himself said, and to the pit OF
O despair by the fatal vice of intemperance
The next day | visited him again. He
y was evidently weaker, but welcomed me
: gladly, and bade me sit close to him where
) he could talk to me. He spoke of bis was.
5 ted life, his wasted talents and opportu-
it mites.
It Few young men, be saiS, commenced
| life with as fair prospects as mine, and few
| have so completely, so utterly blasted them
E When your father retired from business,
| had saved enough from the generous salA
d ry he allowed me to enter into business
"a c. ,,reale Tor +xro vaors T uas amman, = |,