The Sun.
London, England, 1857-12-18 00:00:00

A CHAPTBR ON LOVE ATTACHMENTi

People like to talk about " irrevocable attachments,"
" love-broken hearts," &e. ; but I believe that, in the
great majority of cases, these love-lorn young ladies and
their ,
gentlemen
irrevocable"
are either very young or very silly, and that
attachments are mere delusions,
with which the heart has nothing whatever to do. He
or she who cannot conquer a predilection, when it
proves, from whatever cause, reasonable or injurious,
is but a weak, maudlin sentimentalist—not a hero or
heroine of romance 1 I grant that when two people,
whose affection is founded on perfect esteem and
respect, are separated by adverse circumstances, their
attachment may endure for even a lifetisse ;
but such cases are not of everyday occurrence. Young
ladies do not generally stop to consider whether they es'
teem the object of their preference ; they do not ask,
themselves the question, " Is this love or infatuation Is
"love"—they are only infatuated ; and they
I believe that the majority of people are 11011
weakness with the inset inconceivable obstinacy, sot
times oven allowing it to undermine their health and to
rein their worldly prospects. Awl yet I have known
these very girls, after making the greatest sacrifices---
abandon
sacrifices, not of days but of years—suddenly
the idol--not because he has proved himself unworthy--
defect
ob, no, but because they have heard some slight
of his commented upon and ridiculed by one of their
own sex ! We cannot worship the ridiculous?
cling to the
' I remember a case in point. A sentimental young
sake lady became infatuated by a very devoted admirer; and
not only engaged herself to him, but for his
con-
-13-
eluded herself from society ; lived in what she
sidered an atmosphere of most exalted sentinient
and rather gloried in the thought of the ,many
Tiers which lay in the way of her union frith
object of her affections, and of the possibility nr
dying an " old maid" for h's sake. Though constantly
annoyed by hearing little anecdotes which conveyed
unfavourable impression of the beloved, she would ee
credit them, but clung to him all the more closely.
last—sad to relate—she one day fell into conversation
with a lady, who, unaware of the cruel blow sbe viAs
levelling at an illustrious worship, mentioned the unfor-
tunate Romeo as " a nice little man." Alas, ,10, tike
Romeo ! Though the idol did not at once fall to
did
tin
ground, the pedestal began to give way. 'Vainly
Juliet think within herself, "It is all very well for her
to call him ' little'—she is so tall." It would riot de;*:
the horrid word wou'd haunt her; are, thenceforth, a•
was no longer an ideal, but a man. He was no 1065
" Romeo," but " Thomas," or " John," or whatever
name may have been. Let a notion of ridicule nec:
enter a woman's mind, and affection must be strops
indeed to stand the test. In this case it bad the 011
:salutary effect on the lady's feelings ; and that whic'
not all his falsehood and ingratitude had been able ill
effect, wee accomplished by that unfortunate diminutive.
When once she began to regard him as a cornsollt
everyday mortal, his faults peeped out slowly, one after
another ; till at last. she summoned courage to dism
atioiee
him altogether. Now, this was a case of infatu:
which left the lady perfectly heart-whole ; but I knew
which poor
of another that did'not terminate so hapPlili•
g *I loved on, patiently and sadly ; for she was of a meek
and yielding nature, utterly devoid of the
natural
strength of character with which the other wa el
doomed. The man was vain—selfish—heartlees! she vied;
and hie name was the last on her lips! But was this either
love Oh, no ! Love—true love—is a pure undying feel!
ing, founded on esteem—esteem alone. eI
believe ths.ll
numbers of men and women go though life, marry haPPq
(or fancy they do), are excellent wives and liusbana.
and die, without knowing that they have never loved
Some are incapable of it ; some never meet the o •
kindred soul who alone can call it forth ; but I belie,' I
that very few people really love. Yet, what Matte%
Mr. Jones comes home from his office, finds his o.
neat, his dinner ready, his elipperewell-aired, and t;
indispensable accompaniment of these little cernfq,,
ready to bestow on him the usual vapid smile, and I",i
lipid kiss ; and isn't he just as happy as he would be,
' he were in a frantic state of love 4 Of course beer the
perhaps, the mutton would not be so well done,
potatoes so floury, if Mrs. Jones were " a beautl 112,
high-souloi being all poetry and sentiment," as romance"
have it.—Almosi, or Crooked Ways; by Anna Lege.