The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1881-04-13

with nothing left 10 chance. Ifthere is sem
timent, and there is sometimes, twill lie
where you'd least expect to find it, say the
lover will see ii in the mode of his lady's
couture, the perfume she affects, the delicate
pink, polished half-moon of her finger
nails, the cut of her dress, shape of her bon
nes, or languor of her pose. This diet suf-
fees for the earliest stage of q modern low
er's existence. Then comes sort OF artistic
study; might call this the aesthetic period,
as we live in an artistic stage. Like the
Frenchman, our modern lover conquers by
the most subtle hattery and the most deli
cate attentions. He sets mirror before his
mistress, which blots out all defects and
heightens all beauties, and processes to un-
derstaRd her every motive-in short, be-
comes her own best interpreter of herself
To this spiritual devotion is added the gen.
erosity of an adoring prince, whose fsvors
consist of rose bouquets when roses are
mine to the florist, of theaters, operas, petit
soupers and petit coupes, quiet strolls in
shady hooks, or q days recreation amid the
repsse of leafy woodlands, when he smokes
cigar, and she makes show of cre&el-
work She is we'll dressed and he is well
dressed; indeed, this couple never in any
way shock the prcprieties of life, and herein
we find the one virtue of an alliance with
little heart, much calculation, and more de-
termined, advantageous results.
In such an Aristotelian drama marriage
generally follows in its course of progressive
development as third stage, and then, well
look at the marriages of to-day. my friend;
see how the gray will mingle with the shin
ing locks of youth, how quickly the autumn
must f.llow the promises of spring and the
Joy of summer, how the cold, chaste moon
has given place to darkness, and the specu-
lative lover has become the Indifferent and
oft tyrannical husband. Where now is that
keen knowledge of the wife's inner thoughts,
the sweet fsttery that appreciates her taste
full attire, and alasl where are the bouquets,
the soupers, and the coupes2 These are little
tritles she may accept from her gentlemen
friends, who are always ready to wait upon
dear old Jacks wife, and whose idea of point
d'honor is about as blunt as the sword sup
posed to govern their o wn principles of life.
Who says we are not following foreign
fashions, foreign manners, and foreign NOR
alsY Why, we are even losing the sweet ex
periences of loves young dream, which, ac-
cording to the poets, is not always folly
HE is a child and a child,
In their kingdom there by the sea,
But they love with a love that is more than love,
He and his Annabel Lee."
So, be it folly or fiction, and it likely to be
both,
sswouId we shun if we could7
In sooth almost doubt i'll
Faith I'd rather bear its sting
Than have lived my life without it!''
First love Is doubly a folly when we allow
it as a frost to disturb the present If you
have married Midas, and he disappoints
you, and your thoughts involuntarily turn
to your old love, De We're, remember, it
may have been worse with you, while now
you still have De We're as your ideal, and
Midas as a stern reality.
Cheer up, dear hearts, those who are vast
ing away on the wreck of broken youthful
love; life and love are still waiting for you.
The moral of a story Is always written by
experience, and that will tell you that no af-
lection, however SMALL is ever worthless; it
teaches, even in its loss, and will also declare
to you that the only love which ever endures
Is that coming from disciplined hearts for
rational creatures, who are not the shadowy
decisions of our youth, nor the idols of our
own worshipful creations.
Thank Heaven, we American women
know little of that ferocious jesl-
ousy that characterizes the
French lover. Our women, as rule,
are faithful and our men honest, and what
Frenchman would call wisdom and knowl
edge of the world, we look upon as base sus-
picion and jealous skepticism. He is un
convinced, even if he "hnds out" nothing;
he thinks only that he has been tricked, and
that madame is more artful and more skill
full than himself Fortunately their women
are accustomed to suspicion, and regard it as
an integral part and necessity of love. They
expect storms, and when they are ended
laugh and shrug tehir shoulders, dry their
eyes, and say, "Mon Dieu, quel homme."
They never think of resenting what we
would feel as an insult, and they manage
jealousy, smooth over difficulties by fiattery,
and amuse by their wit. What would fire
our pride into open rebellion but tickles
their pride, and gives them an opportunity
to prove their skill in tanning the raging
fury of their Othellos.
So If first love be folly let us cling to it
as such, foster it in young hearts, and nurse
its sweet memory in hearts whose beats art
numbered. The illusions of life are few
enough, and if the decree of fashion will
permit we send in petition to her Majesty
the "Dame:" "Grant us long life to loves
young dream"