Literary cadet, and Saturday evening bulletin. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1826-1827, 1827-04-14
ItLTSCLLEAIY.
ROBERT EMMETT.

was too touching to be soon forgotten -
! During the troubles in Ireland, he was
/ tried condemned, and executed on a charge
! Of treason. Ills fate made deep impress
ion on public sympathy He was so young,
so intelligent, so generous, so brave, so eve
ry thing that we are apt to like in young
man. His conduct underline trial, too, was
so lofty and intrepid. The noble indignation
with which he repellcd the charge Of trca-
son against his country; the eloquent vindi-
cation of name; and his pathetic appeal to
postcrity in the hopeless hour Of condem-
nation, all these entered deeply into ove-
~ generous bosom, and even his opponents
lamented the stern policy that dictated his
execution.
But there was one heart whose anguish
it would be impossible to describe. In hap
pier days and fairer fortunes he had won
tho affections of beautiful and interesting
girl, the daughter of late celebrated Irish
barrister. She loved hun with the disinter-
csted ieryor Of woman's first and early
love. When every worldly maxim arraycd
itself against him; when blasted in fortune,
and disgrace and danger darkened around
his name, she loved him more ardcntly for
his sufferings. Since his fate could awaken
sympathy even in the bosoms of his foes,
what must have been the agony Of her,
whose soul was occupied by his image;
Let those tell, who have had the portals Of
the tomb suddenly closed between them
and the being they loved most on earth;
who have sat at its THRESHOLD as one shut
cut in cold and lonely Yorld, whence all
that was lovely aud loving had departed.
To render her widowed situation moro
dosolate, she had incurred her fathers dis
pleasure by her unfortunate attachment,
aud was an exile from the parental roof
But the sympathy and kind offices OF friends,
reached n spirit so shocked and driven
in by horror, and she experienced no
want of consolation, for the Irish are
people of quick and generous scnSibilitios
The most delicate and cherishnG atten-
tions were paid her by families Of wealth
and distinction. She was led into society,
and they tried all kinds of occupation and
amusement, to dissipate her grief, and wean
her from the tragical story Of her love---but
all was in vain! There are some strokes
of calamity that seattle and scorch the soul;
that penetrate to the vital seat ofhappiness,
and blast it, never again to put forth bud or
blossom. She never objected to frequent
the haunts ofpleasure; but she was as much
alone there as in the depth of solitude -
She walked about in sad rcverie, appar-
emily unconscious of the world around her.
She carried with her an inward wo, that
mocked all the Establishments ofGriendship,
and "heeded not the song Of the charmer;
charm he ever so wisely"
Tho person, says the eloquent author Of
the Sketch Book, who told me her story,
had seen her at a masquerade. After stroll
ling through the splendid rooms and giddy
crowd, with an air Of utter abstraction, she
sat herself down on the steps Of the orches-
tire, and looking about for some time with
vacant stare, that showed her insensibility
to the gay scene, she began with the ca
priciousness Of a sickly heart, to warble
little plaintive air. She had an exquisite
voice; but en- this occasion it was so simple,
so touching, it breathed forth such soul Of
wretchedness, that she drew a crowd, mute
and silent around her, and melted every one
into tears.
The story Of one so true and tender,
could not but excite great interest in coun-
try remarkable for enthusiasm. 1t COM
p!etely won the heart of brave officer,
who paid his addresses to her, and thought
one so true to the dead, could not but
prove affectionate to the living. She de-
clined his attentions, for her thoughts were
irrevocably engrossed by the memory of
her former lover. lie solicited not her ten
derness, but her esteem. He was assisted
by her conviction Of his worth, and her
sense of her own destitute and dependent
situation, for she was existing on tho kind
ness Of friends. In word, he at length
succeeded in gaining her hand, though with
the solemn assurance that her heart was
unuterably another's.
He took her with him to Sicily, hoping
that change of scene might wear out the
remembrance of early woes. She was an
amiable and exemplary wife, and made an
effort to be happy one; but nothing could
cure the silent melancholy that had entered
into her very SOUL She wasted away in a
slow, but hopeless decline, at last sunk into
the grave, victim Of broken heart.
1t was on this lady tina! Moore composed
the following lines:-
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers around her signing;
But slowly she turns Il en- their gaze and woeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying.
She sings the wild song ofher dear native plains,