The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1856-12-18
Sf(isttllancous.
The Broken Heart,
. BY WASHINGTON IRVING.

- never ncaTu
Ofany true affection, but twas nipt
With care, that like the caterpillar eats
The leaves ofthe springs sweetest book, the rose
1t is common practice with those VIII
have outlived the susceptibility ofearly feel
ing, or have been brought up in the ga
'heal tlessness of dissiputed life, to laugh q
all love stories, and to treat the tales of ro
mantle passion as mere fiction of novelist
and poets. My observations on human ma
ture have induced me to think otherwise. -
They have convinced me that however tn,
surface of character may be chilled and fro
zen by the cares of the world, or cultivated
into mere smiles by the arts of society, still
there are dormant fires lurking in the depth.
of the coolest bosom, which, when once en-
kinded, become impetuous, and are some
times desolating in their effects. Indeed,
am true believer in the blind deity, and &C
to the full extent of his doctrines. Shall
confess i'll believe in broken hearts anc
the possibility of dying of disappointed love
do not, however, consider the malady often
fatal to my own sex; but firmly believe
that withers down many lovely woman
into an early grave.
Man is the creature ofinterest and ambi.
tion. His nature leads him forth into the
struggle and hustle of the world. Love is
but the establishment of his early life, or a
song piped in the intervals of the acts. He
seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the
worlds thought. and domination over his fel.
low men. But a woman's whole life is the
history of the affections. The heart is the
world; it is thete her avarice seeks for hid.
den treasures. She sends forth her sympa.
thies ON adventure; she embarks her whole
soul in the traffic oil affection, and if ship
wrecked, her case is hopeless-for it is
bankruptcy of the heart.
To man, the disappointment of love may
occasion some bitter pangs; it wounds some
feelings of tenderness; it blasts some pros
poets of felicity; but he is ON active being;
he may dissipate his thoughts in the whrl
of varied occupation, or plunge into the tide
of pleasure; or if the scene of disappoint.
,nent be too full of painful associations, he
can shit bis abode at wilii and taking as it
were the wings of the morning, can "Ry to
the utmost part of The earth and be at rest"
But woman's is comparatively fixed, a
secluded, and a meditative life. She is mere
the companion of her thoughts and feelings;
and If they are turned to ministers of sor.
row, where shall she look for consolation!
Her lot is to be woed and won: and if furhap.
py in her love, her heart is like some fort.
ross; that has been captured and sacked, and
abandoned and left desolate.
How many bright eyes grow dim; how
many soft cheeks grow pale; how many
lovely forms fade away into the tomb, and
none can tell the cause that blighted their
loveliress! AS the dove will clap its wings
to its sides, and cover and conceal the arrow
that's preying on its vitals, so it is the ma.
ture of woman to hide from the panps ofI
wounded affection. The love of delicate
maiden is shy and silent. Even when for
tnfate she scarcely breathes it to herself; but
when otherwise, she buries it in the deep re.
cesses of her bcsomy and there lets it cover
and brood amohR The ruins Of her peace
With her the desire Of her heart has failed.
The great charm Of existence is at an end,
She neglects all the cheerful exercises which
gladden. the spirits, quicken the pulses, and
send the tide Of life in heslthful currents
through the veins. Her rest is broken, the
sweet refseshmentof sleep is poisoned by
melancholy dreams~-"dry sorrow drinks her
.s;ssood" until her enfeebled frame sinks un:
der the slightest injury. Look for her after
while; and you will find friendship over
hes aniime'y grave, and wondering that one
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