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lUti HE Mi < ,
BY WASHINGTON IllTING.
I never heard
Of any true affection, but 'twas nipt
Wuh care, that tike the caterpiUer eats
The leaves of the spring's sweet bud and rose.
It is a common thing to laugh >at love
stories, and to treat the tales of romantic
passion as mere fictions of poet* and novelist,
that never existed in real life. My
observations on human nature have convinced
me of the contrary, and has satisfied
me that however the surface of the
character may be chilled and frozen by
the cares of the world and pleasures of I
_ - _ .i *
society, inere is still a warm current of 1
affection runniug through the depths of 1
the coldest heart, that prevents its being 1
utterly congealed. Indeed, I am a true 1
believer in the blind deity, and go to the
full extent of his doctrines. Shall I con- '
fess it? I believe in broken hearts, and I
the possibility of dying of disappointed 1
love! i do not, however, consider it a >
malady often fatal to our own sex; but I 1
firmly believe that it withers down many *
a lovely woman into an early grave. *
Man is the creature of interest and 1
ambition. His nature leads him into the 1
struggle and bustle of the world. Love i
is but the embellishment of his early life, '
or a song piped in the intervals of the ?
nets. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for 1
space in the world's thought, and domi- t
nion over his fellow men. But woman's i
whole life is a history of the affections.? 1
The heart is her world; it is there her I
ambition strives for empire; it is there '
her avarice seeks for hidden treasures.? 11
She sends forth her sympathies on ad- v
venture; she euib.irks her wh.de soul in *
f llA (Pit t)i<> ?.l* urfj.il..". -" 1 " L'
...w v uuvkuun, a 11 < i 11 Mill pwri'CKed,
her cause is hopeless?fur it is a e
bankruptcy of the heart.
To a uian, the disappointment of love
may occasion some hitter pangs, it wounds
the feelings of tenderness?it blasts some
prospects of felicity; but he is an active
being?he can dissipate his thoughts in
the whirl of varied occupation, or plunge
in the tide of pleasure: or if the scene of
disappointment be too full of pdnful associations,
he can shift his abode at will,
and taking as it? were the wings of the
morning, can fly to the uttermost parts of
the earth, and be at iest.
But woman's is comparatively a fixed
and meditative life. She is more the
companion of her own thoughts and fee
lings, and if they arc turned to ministers 1
of sorrow, where shall she look for con
solution! Her lot is to be woed and won; '
and if unhappy in her love, her luurt is 1
like some fortress that has been captured 1
and sacked, and abandoned, and left desolate.
How many bright eyes grow dim?how
many soft cheeks grow pule?how many
lovely forms fade away in the tomb, and
none cau tell the cause that blighted their
loveliness. As the dove will clasp its
wing to its side and cover and conceal the
arrow that is preying on its vitals, so it is
the nature of woman to hide from the
world the nanus* of tvminrlo.l ?
J ? . ?? v ???a??V?l VUllyVI'IV/llt
The iove oi a delicate fonale is always
shy and silent. Even when unfortunate,
she scare ly breaths it to herself, but
when otherwise, she buries it into the recess
of her bosom, and there lets it cover
and brood among the ruins of her peace;
with her the desire of the heart has failed.
The great charm of her existence is at. an
end. aihe neglects all the cheerful exercises
that gladden the spirits, quicken the
Dulses. And BAndo tKo nf llfn ? linallt.
ful currents through the veins. Her rest
is broken?the sweet refreshments of
sleep is poisoned by melancholy dreams
? 'dry sorrow drinks her blood," until
her enfeebled frame sinks under the last
external assailant. Look for her after a
'while, and you will find friendship weep'ing
over her untimely grave, and wondering
that one/ who but lately glowed with
all the radiance of health and beauty,
should now be brougnt down to 4,darkness
and the worm." You will be told
of some wintery chill, some slight indis
position, that laid her low?but no one
knows the mental malady that previously
sapped her strength, and made her so easy
a prey to the spoiler.
Whe is like some tender tree, the pride
and beauty of the grove; graceful in its
form, bright in the foliage, but with the i
worm preying at its - eore. We find it
sudde nly withering whon it should be most
fresh end luxuriant* We see k drooping
its branchee to the earth, and shedding
leaf by leaf, until wasted and perished
away, it falls even In the stillness of the
forest, and as we must ever the beautiful
ruin, we strive in vain to recollect the
blast or thunderbolt that could bavasraitten
It with decay.
1 have seen many instances of women
running to ufeste an I self neglect, and
disappearing gradually from the earth;
and have repeatedly fancied 1 could trace
their deaths through the various declensions
of consumption, cold, debility, Iangour,
melancholy, until I reached the first
symptoms of disappointed love. But an
instance of the kind was lately told me,
the circumstances are well known in the
countrjrwhere^hey happened, and I shall
give them in the manner they were related.
Every one must recollect the tragic
story of Emmet, the Irish patriot, for it
- . _ 1 ! ' . _ 1 P A A
was 100 loucmng 10 oe soon lurgouon.
During llie troubles in Ireland, he was
tried, condemned, and executed on a
charge of treason. Ilis fate made a deep
impression on public sympathy. He was
ro young, so intelligent, so brave, so every
thing that we are apt to like in a young
man. His conduct under trial too, was
so lofty and intrepid. The noble indignation
with whi^h he repelled the charge
of treason against his country?the eloquent
vindication of his name?and his
pathetic appeal to posterity, in the hour
of condemnation?all these entered deeply
into every generous bosom?and even
(lis enemies lamented the stern policy
that dictated his execution.
But there was one heart, whose anguish
t would be in vain to describe. In happier
flays and fairer fortunes, he had won
he afTections of a beautiful and interestng
girl, the daughter of a late celebrated
Irish Barrester. She loved him with the
lisinterested fervor of a woman's first
ind only love. When every worldly
uaxiin arrayed itself against him?when
lasted in fortune, disgrace and danger
larkened around his name, she loved him
nore ardently for his sufferings. If then
lis fate could awaken even the sympathies
)f his foes, what must have been the nnjuish
of her whose soul was occupied by
lis image! Let those tell who have hud
he porials of the tomb suddenly closed
ictween them and the being most loved
in earth, who have sat at this thrcshhold,
is one shut out in a cold and lonely
vorld, from whence all that was most lovii<t
find narLrd.
Bm then the horrors of such a grave
10 frightful, so dishonored! There was
lothing for memory to dwell upon that
joiiM soothe the parting?none of those
ender, though melancholy circumstance s
hat endear the parting scene?nothing to
nelt the sorrow into blessed tears, sent
ike the dews of heaven, to relieve the
leart in the hour of anguish.
To render her widowed situation more
lesolate, she had incurred her father's
lispleasure by her unfortunate attachnent,
and was an exile from the parental
roof. But could the sympathy and kind
offices of friends have reached a spirit so
shocked and driven in by horror, they
would have experienced no want of consolation
for the Irish are a peopleof quick
and geoerous sensibilities. The most delirnln
<?nd rhorinliinff attentions were nsiid
Iier by the families of wealth and distinction.
She was led into society, and they
tried by all kinds of occupation and
amusement to dissipate her grief, and
wean her from the tragical story of her
lover. But it was all in vain. There are
some strokes of calamity that scathe and
scorch the soul?that penetrate the vital
seat of happiness, and blast it, never
again to put forth bud or bloss >m. She
never objected to visit the haunts of pleasure,
but she was as much alone there
as in the depth of solitude. She walked
about in a sad reverie apparently unconscious
of the world around her. She
carried with her an inward wo, that
mocked at the blandishments of friendship,
and heeded not the song of the charmer,
charm he ever so wisely.
The person who told me her story had
seen her at a masquerade. There can
be no exhibition of far gone wretchedness
more striking and painful that to
meet it in such a scene. To find it wandering
like a sceptre, lonely and joyless,
? j _ ... ?.i
wnere an arounu is guy?w ucc u uifbrch
oyt in the trappings of mirth, and looking
so wan and wo-begone, as if it had
tried in vain to cheat the poor heart into
a momentary fnrgetfulness of sorrow.?
After strolling through the splendid
rooms and giddy crowd, with an air oi
utter abstraction, she sat herself down on
the steps of the orchestra, and looking
about some time with a vacant air, that
showed her insensibility to the garnish
scene, she began, with the capriciousnese
of a sickly heart, to warble a little plaintive
air. She had an exquisite voice, bui
on this occasion it was so simple, sc
touching, it breathed forth such a soul ol
wretchedness, that it drew a crowd mutf
and silent around her, and melted everj
one into tears. The story of one so tru?
and tender could not but excite great sym
pathy in a country remarkable for enlhu
siasrn. It completely won the heart o
a brace officer, who paid hie addreesee to
her; and thought that one eo true to the
dead, could net bui pEOte affectionate to
the living. She dcfeltffd hi* attentions,
for her thoughts ;wejjO irrevocably engrossed
by the rteirior/ of her former lover.
He however persisted In his suit.
He solicited not her tenderness, but her
esteem. He was assisted by her conviction
of his worth, and a sense of her. destitute
"n ! dependant .'Situation, for she
was existing on' the kindness of her
friends. In a word,fte at length succeeded
in gaining her hand, though with a
solemn assurance thai her heart was utterly
another's. '
He took her with H|m to Sicily hoping
that a change of sceite might wear out
the remembrance of early woes. She
was an amiable and exempiaay wife, and
made an effort to be a happy one; but
nothing could cure the silent and devouring
melancholy that had entered into her
very soul. She wasted away into a slow
but hopeless decline, and at length sun>|
| into the grave, the victim of a Broken
Heart.
A REMARKALE STORY.
From a notice of Illustrations of Human
Life, a new work by the author of
Tremaine and De Vere, in the New Monthly
Magazine for April.
| The story to which we shall now advert
has the double value of being told, on
| Mr. Ward's personal knowledge, and of
illustrating the extraordinary chances on
which human life is sometimes suffered to
depend. The circumstances occurred to
I the well known Sir Evan Nepean, when
I in the Home Department. The popular
J version of the story had been, that he
was warned by a vision, to save the lives
of three or four men condemned 10 die,
but reprieved ; and who, but for the vision
would have perished, through the
Under-Secretary's neglect in forwarding
the reprieve. On Sir Evan's being subsequently
asked how far this story was
true, his answer was?" The narrative
romances a little; but what it alludes to
, was the most extraordinary thing that
ever happened to me." The simple facts
as told by himself, are these.
I One night, during his office as UnderSecretary,
he felt the most unaccountable
wakefulness that could he imagined ; he
was in oerfect health, had dined earlv.
and had nothing whatever on his mind to
i keep him awake. Still, he found all his
j attempts to sleep impossible, and, from
eleven till two in the morning, had never
closed an eye At length, weary of
this struggle, and as the twilight was
breaking, (it wag in summer,) he determined
to try what would he the effect ol
a walk in the Park. There he saw nothing
hut the sleepy sentinels. But, in
his walk, happening to pass the Home
.Office several times, he thought of letting
himself in with his key, without any particular
object. The book of entries of
the day before still lay on the table, and
I through sheer listlessness he opened it.
The first thing that he saw appalled him ;
: " A reprieve to be sent to York for the
I coiners ordered for execution." The execution
had been appointed for the next
day. It struck him that he had received
no return to his order to send the reprieve.
He searched the " minutes
he could not find it there. In alarm, he
went to the house of the chief clerk, who
lived in Downing street, knocked him up,
(it was then past three,) and asked hitn if
he knew anv thing of the reprieve being
sent. In great alarm, the chief clerk
"could not remember." 11 You are scarcely
awake," said Sir Evan; 44 recollect
yourself: it must have been sent."
The chief clerk said that he now recollected
he hud sent it to the Clerk of the
Crown, whose business it was to forward
it to York.
44 Good," said Sir Evan. 41 But have
you his receipt and certificate that it ig
gone?"
44 No!"
41 Then come with me to his house ; wc
must find him, its early." It is now four:
and the Clerk of the Crown lived in
Chancery-lane. There is no hackneycoach
to be seen; and they almosi
ran. They were just in time. The Clerk
of the Crown had a country house, and
meaning to have a long holiday, he wag
at that moment stepping into his gig tci
go to his villa. Astonished at the visit oi
the Under-Secretary of State, at sucli
an hour, he was still more so at his business.
" Heavens!" cried he, " the reprieve
is locked up in my desk!" It was brought
Sir Evan sent to the post office for the
truest and fleetest express. The reprieve
reached York next morning, just at the
. moment the unhappy men were ascending
i the cart!
i With Sir Evan Nepeai), we fully agree
in regarding this liltic narrative as one o
, the most extraordinary that we ever heard
> We shall go further even than he acknow
f ledged, and say, that, to us, it bears stri
? king evidences of what we should con
r ceive a superior interposition. It is true
that no ghost appears, nor is any prompt
ing voire audible; yet the result depend
- ed ?ip?Hi so long a succession of wha
f seemed chances, and each of these chan
ces was at once so improbable and so nc% |
cessary, that we are almost compelled to is
regard the whole as matter of influence si
not to be attributed to a man. If the first a
link of the chtfn might pass for a com- b
mon occurrence?-as undoubtedly fits of t!
wakefulness wild happen without any dis- ft
coverable ground in the state of either h
body or mind?still, what could be less in I
the common course of things than that u tl
man thus waking should take it into his si
head to get up and take a walk in* the it
Park at 2 o'clock in the morning? Yet ?a
if he had, like others, contented himself l<
with taking a walk round his chamber, or r
enjoying the cool air at his window, not h
one of the succeeding events could have l
occurred, and the men must have sacrificed.
Or if, when he took this walk, he
had been content with getting rid of the f
^t *a a.a %- t -
i tevensnness 01 tne ntgnt ana returned to
hts bed, the chain would have been br j- i?
ken : for, what was more out of the natu- E
j ral course of events, than that, at two in ai
the morning, the idea should come into tl
the head of any man to go to his office, fi
and sit down in the rooms of his depart- d
meni, for no purpose of business or plea-' k
sure, btit simply not knowing what to do|c<
with himself? Or if, when he had let! b
himself into those solitary rooms, the! p
book of entries had not lain on the table;11?
(and this wc presume to have been among o
the chances, as we can scarcely suppose V
books of this official importance to be! ti
generally*left to their fate, among the ser-ju
vanis and messengers of the office;) or, |si
if the entry, instead of being on the first |?
, page that >pened to his eve, had been on o
any other, even the second, as he never i I
might have taken the trouble of turning u
, the page; or if he and the chief clerk'a
, had been five minutes later at the Clerk : u
of the Crown's house, and instead of find- il
ing him at the moment of getting into's
his carriage, had been compelled to incur jd
the delay of bringing him back from the , n
country, all the preceding events would n
have been useless. The people - would is
have died at York, for even as it was, t<
there was not a moment to spare; they' n
were - topped oi? the very verge of execu- f<
lion. J v
| The remarkablo feature of the whole,! v
is that the chain might have been snapped i
at every link, and that every link was fi
, equally important. In the calculation of u
"the probability of any one of these occur- q
, rences, a mathematician would find the h
i chances very hard against it; but the cal- ii
culation would be prodigiously raised p
. against the probability of the whole. If c
* it be asked, whether a sufficient ground h
for this harsh interposition is to be dis-ju
covered in saving the lives of a fetvc
wretched culprits, who, as is frequent in 1 e
such cases, probably returned to their d
wicked trade as soon as escaped, and only v
1 tin nr O/l lIlMrnuoltroa info /!/>? K
|..?ai^wu iuat.iTt/0 uiiu Iirrjin iiiivjuiij u
the answer is, that it is not for us, in our h
, ignorance, to mete out the value of human t<
life, however criminal in the eyes of s
Heaven. But there wi\s another inteiest e
concerned, and one if evident value. 11<
If those coiners had been hung, Sir p
Evan Nepean could scarcely have escap- si
ed utter ruin ; popular wrath would have jt
flared out against him fiom one end of it
the country to another; he would have \\
been charged with their murder. No man e
under such circumstances could have re-, n
tained office a week. We have seen a s:
circumstance of the same nature, but g
of a much slighter color, drive a late chief G
Judicial officer of London from his office n
in a moment. No minister could have h
ventured to screen him ; office in England tl
woum nave been shut upon him i??r lil'e. ( A
lie would probably have been driven to |v
hide his head in some foreign country,' 1<
even if some Parliament rebuke, or Royal j g
, mark of displeasure, had not broke his ii
heart. Yet thus, all, who know the sub- tl
sequent services of Sir Evan Nepean as
( Secretary to the Admiralty, during the <]
, long period of our naval glory in the re- e
volulionary war, know that a humane, u
honest and-intelligent man would have p
, been lost to himself and his country. | j,
I The actual neglect was the Town Cb rk's
, but it would have been thrown btick from v
. the inferior on the principal, according to j,
t the manner of popular justice; and, doubt- r
. less, if Sir Evan had made the enquiry a
I tne night before, wnich he made in his
, waking hour in the morning, the repri- ve j
, would not have suffered the hazards of c
p delay. The adventure, slight as it was, t
, would have been his ruin. j
^ r
SUFFERING FROM THIRST. Some 12 U
h mtilae r? /> rvv O MA tk aa*A nna^A J * 1* a a-* ?
? iiiii?/oii win v/iaii, wc |ia9ocu uic ?|iut wucrc c
. a year and a half ago, there had been i
s hard fighting between the French and the b
i natives. The French soldiers though an b
i over match for the Arabs, suffered dread- n
r fully from heat and thirst. Their store c
of water was exhausted; the breath of
i the simoon set in, the cavalry stood' its a
f shock, and by their elevation from the e
. ground were able to respire, but the foot v
soldiers fell by companies, gasping for e
i- breath. A captain of the dragoons, who j
- was in the scene, told me there was more r
', than one instance of the infantry soldier. <
driven to madness by thirst and agony, ?
I- putting his head to the mouth of his mus- t
t ket and his foot to the trigger, and coin- <
i- mitting suicide. Our infantry officer 11
lone gave way to despair; and though U ' $a
i probable that he #as in these circum* *
Lances no more * responsible agent thart
man in the delirium of fever, yet ii Was
otter, perhaps that he did not survive
ie occurrence. He pulled his parse j
*om his pocket; he said to his men^ *1 ?f
aveled you into battle with courage, and i
have always been a kind officer to you; J|1
iie horror of my sufferings is now in- *
upportable; let the man among you who I
$ my best friend, now shoot me dead,
nd here are thirty louis d'nrs for bis * }
?gacy.' No tnan would comply with* his 1
equest, hut he had hardly uttered it when
e fell down and expired.?[Campbell's
letters from the South.
A DISCOURSE ON IMPUDENCE.
ROM tub boston mercantile journal.
Impudence.?Modest merit was cher*
ihcd by the Pilgrim Fathers of New
Ingland. But the days of the Puritans
re passed away, and impudence is now
ic only passport to the respect and condcnce
of the community, to fortune or
istinction. Impudence is of various
inds : the kind we mean is an unbounded
onfidence in one's own powers, with
ut little reverence for the opinions or
crsons of others, united with a wish
> gain their conlidence and esteem, in'
rder to promote one's own interest.
Vith this powerful auxiliary a man will
read the puths of life without meeting
dth obstacles. The goal which ho
irives to reach will be unobstructed be)rc
him, and, with the help of a medium
f industry, it tnay be easily obtained,
lis moral character if nut decidedly bad,
rill present no obstacle to his progress;
nd as for his intellectual powers, they
rill he out little regarded in these days;
f they are weak, impudence will nobly
upply their place Without an ahunant
stock of this highly-prized and
eccKsary ingredient, a man, whatever
lav he his mental or mural nnalifiea tinna
J _ ? -- < -I- ? - - ?
? destined to pass his life in obscurity?
t be little known, and less respected?to
icet with disappointment if he looks
>r\vard to that distinction which was once
rant to attend a union of talent and
forth.
If he is a mechanic, and destitue- of
ortune and friends, with a tolerable slock
>f impudence, he need not despair. This
[uality will And him friends, and procure
dm abundance of employment. If he
s a trader, or a merchant, and relies
irincipally upon modest merit for sucess,
he will find many a lion in his path,
lis course through life will be all the way
ip-hill, and if success should at least
rown his efforts, which can hardly be
xperted, it will be in consequence of a
egree of perseverance and industry
fhich is seldom exhibited. But if h" is
lessed with impudence, the work is easy;
,c finds this attribute the "open sesame"
[> credit and renown.- .With the profesional
man impudence is not only a powrfill
adjunct, but is absolutely necessary
a success. No one can reasonably exect
to take a high stand in his profesion,
whatever may he his learning, his
iu?iiieiii, or nis virtues, it ne is lacking
i impudence; or, as a phrenologist
muld say, if there is a deficiency in selfsteem,
and a large developement of
everence. If a man seeks an eligible
itualion, either of profit or honor, in the
ift of an individual, a corporation, or of
lovernment, he is doomed to disappointlent,
unless impudence assists him, which
e will often find a more valuable aid than
lie most zealous and powerful friends,
ind if he seeks an office from the Pdople,
without a good share of impudence, his
jt must be disappointment. To strive to
ain popular favor, without the aid of
mpudence, is indeed "kicking against
he pricks/*
We find in the present age that impu[ence
wi'l command success in every
mployment of life. If we look around
is, and examine the workshop, the count*
ng-room, the study, the studio, the bar,
hi pulpit, the rostrum, or offices of trust,
mnor, or profit, we shall at once be coninced
of the wonderful influence which
mpudence exercises over the destinies of
nan. If we examine our friends, our
cquu ntances, our townsmen, we ?h *11
iud tb u many who have figured largely
n t.'ie busy world, and have been surc^sfYil
in achieving fortune or fame, are
inder infinitely greater obligations to imludence,
which will never leave its vota*
ies in the lurch, than to talent or intrinsic
vorth. A man destitute of credentials?
ast among strangers, without a farthing
n his pockets, if blessed with a respecta*
de endowment of impudence, will seldom
ie at a loss; while, on the other hand.
nodesly is regarded, in such circumstan? ,
as prima facie evidence of rascality:
impudence, so far from being checked
intf restrained in early youth, should be
ncouraged, if we seek' to promote the
rorldly welfare of our children. Selfsteem
should be excited, and reverence,
>aralyzed, if possible, if we wish them to
nake their way through the world without
lifficulty; and doubtless those instructors
?t youth, who endeavor to impr.es* upon
,he minds of their pupils the propriety"
?f a mod.?st demeanor, ire deserving of
severe reprehension. Whatman, who is *