The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1873-09-17
MISCELLANY.
TIE BROKEN HEART.
BY WASHINGTON IRVING.


1t is a common thing to laugh at all love
stories, and to treat the tales of romantic pas
sion as mere fictions of poets and novelists
that never existed in real life. My observa-
tions on human nature, have convinced ME of
the contrary and have satisfied me that how
ever the surface of the character may be chill
ed and frozen by the cares of the world. and
the pleasures of society, there is still warm
current of affection running through the
depths of the coolest heart, that prevents it
being utterly concealed. Indeed, | am true
believer in the blind deity, and go the full ex-
tent of his doctrines. ShallI confess lit |?
believe in broken hearts, and in the possibility
of dying of disappointed love ! do not, how
ever, consider it malady often fatal to my
own sex but firmly believe that it withers
down many lovely woman into an early
grave.
Every one must recollect the tragic story of
E, the Irish patriot, for it was too
touching to be soon forgotten. During the
troubles in Ireland, he was tried, condemned,
and executed, on charge of treason. His
pathy. He was so young, so intelligent, so
generous, so brave-so everything that we are
apt to like in young man. His conduct un-
tlcrstriai,, too, was 20 lofty and mtrepid. Fiao
noble Indignation with which he repealed the
charge of treason against his Countrywide
eloquent vindcation of his name-and his
pathetic appeal to posterity, in the hoar of
condemnation--all entered deeply into every
generous bosom and even his enemies lamen-
ted the stern policy that demanded his execu-
ton. So ~ az IS
But there was one heart, whose anguish it
would be in vain to describe. In happier
days and fairer fortunes, he had won the affec-
lions of a beautiful and interesting girl, the
daughter Of late celebrated Irish barrister
She loved him with the disinterested fervor of
a woman's only love- When every worldly
maxim arrayed itself against him, when BIAS
ted in fortune, and disgrace and danger dark
ened around his name, she loved him more
artently for his sufferings. IT, then, his fate
could awaken even the sympathy of his foes,
what must have been the anguish of her whose
soul was occupied by his imagei Let those
tell who have had the portals of the tomb sud-
denly closed between them and the being most
loved on eartl--who have sat at this threshold,
ais one shut out in a cold and lonely world, from
whence all that was most lovely and loving
had parted.
But then the horrors of such grave, SO
dishonored There was nothing for memory
to dwell upon that could soothe the pang of
parting-none of those tender though mean-
choly circumstances, that endear the parting
scene-nothing to melt the sorrow into blessed
tears, sent like the dews of heaven, to revive
the heart in the hour of anguish.
To render her widowed situation more desc
late, she had incurred her fathers dispeasure
by her unfortunate attachment, and was an
exile from the paterhal roof. But could the
sympathy and kind Office of friends have
reached spirit so shocked and driven in by
horror, she would have experienced no want
of consolation, for the Irish are a people of
quick and generous sensibilities. The most
delicate and cherishing attentions We're paid
her by families of wealth and distinction.
She was led into society, and they tried by all
kinds of occupation and amusements, to dissi-
pate 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 seattle
and scorch the soul-that penetrate the vital
seat of happiness, and blast it, never again to
put forth bud or blossom. She never objected
to frequent the haunts of pleasure, but she
was as much alone there as in the depths OF
solitude. She walked about in sad reverie,
an arently unconscious of the world around
her. Sne carried with her an inward woe,
that Knocked at the Establishments Of friend
ship, and needed 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 exhi-
bition Of far gone Indebtedness more striking
| and painful than to meet it in such scene
To find it wandering like a spectre, lonely
! and joyless, where all around is gay-to see II
dressed out in the trappings Of mirth, and
| looking 80 wan and wobegone, as if it had
tried in vain to cheat the poor heart in mo-
mentary forgetfulness of sorrow. After
strolling through the splendid rooms and
| piddy crowd, with an air of utter abstraction
she sat herself down on the steps Of an orches-
ira, and looking about some time with va
CENT air that showed her insensibility to the