The Irish standard., 1898-12-03
ROBERT EMMETT AND HIS LOVE.
He Had Won the Affections af a
Beautiful Girl.
lMMORTALlZEDBY TOM MOORE
Miss Curran Was the Daughter of
a Celebrated Orator.

The great American writer, Washing
ton Irving, gives the following love
story of Robert Emmet and Sarah Cur,
ran. in his famous Sketch Book"
1t Is common practice with those
who have outlived the susceptibility of
early feeling, or have been brought up
in the gay heartlessness of dssipated
life, to laugh at all love stories, and to
treat the tales Of romantic passion as
mere fictions of novelists and poets. My
observations on human nature have in
duced me to think otherwise. They have
convinced me, that however the surface
Of the character may be chilled and
frozen by the cares OF the world or cul-
tivated into mere smiles by the arts of
society, still there are dormant fires lurk-
ing in the depths of the coldest bosoms,
which, when once cnkinded, become i'm
petuous, and are sometimes dcsolating in
their effects. Indeed. l am a true be-
llever in the blind deity, and go to the
full extent Of his doctrines. Shall con-
fcss it? l believe in broken hearts, and
the possibility of dying of disappointed
love! do not, however, consider 1t q
malady often fatal to my own sex; but I
firmly believe that 1t withcrs down many
lovely woman into an early grave.
Man Is the cerature of interest and
ambition. His nature leads him forth
into the struggle and hustle OF the world.
Love is but the establishment of his
early life, or n song piped in the inter-
walls of the acts He seeks for fame, for
fortune, for space in the worlds thought,
and dominion over his felowmen. But
a womans whole life is a. history of the
affections. The heart is her world; it
is there her ambition strives for empire
it is there her avaricc seeks for hidden
treasures. She sends forth her sympa-
thcs on adventure; she embarks her
whole soul in the traffic of affection: and
IL shipwreckcd her case is hopcless-for
it is a bankruptcy of the heart
10 a man, the disappointment of love
may occasion some bitter pnngs; it
wounds some feelings of tenderness-it
blasts some prospects of felicity, but he
is an active being; he may dissipate his
thoughts in the whirl of varied occu-
patton, or may plunge into the tide of
pleasure; or. il the scene of disappoint--
mcnt be too full of painful associations,
he can shift his abode at will, and taxi
ing, as it werc the wings OF the morning,
,lfn not nt.,< A1,o
earth and be at rest"
But womans is comparatively a fixed,
q secluded and a mcdtative life. She
is more the companion of her own
thoughts and feelings; and If they are
turned to ministers OF sorrow, where
shall she look for consolation? Her lot
is to be wooed and won; and if unhappy
in her love, her heart is like some fort
ress that has been captured, and sacked,
and abandoned and left dcsolate.
How many bright eyes grow dim
how many soft cheeks grow mle--how
many lovely forms fade away into the
tomb, and none can tell the cause that
blighted their lovclincss. AS the dove
cover and conceal the arrow that is
preying on its vltals-so is il the nature
OF woman, to hide from the world the
pangs Of wounded affection. The love of
Il delicate female is always shy and ST.
lent. Even when Fortunate, she scarcely
brcalhcs 1t to herself; but when other
wise, she burics it to the rccesses Of her
bosom, and there lets it cover and brood
among ihc ruins OF her peace. With her
the desire Of the heart has failed-the
great charm of existence Is at an end.
She ncglcsts all the cheerful exercises
which gladden. the spirit, that quicken
the pulse and send the tide of life in
healthy currents through her veins. Her
sleep is poisoned by melancholy dreams
dry sorrow drinks her blood" until
her enfeebled frame sinks under the
slightest external injury. Look for her,
after little while, and you find friend
ship weeping over her untimely grave,
and wondering that one, who but lately
g1owed with all the radiance of health
and beauty, should speedily be
brought down to darkness and the
worm" You will be told Of some wintry
chill, some casual indisposition, that laid
her low-but no one knows the mental
ma!ady that previously sapped her
strength, and made her SO easy prey
to the spoiler.
She is like some tender tree, tho pride
and beauty of the grove; graceful in its
form, bright in its foliage, but with tho
worm preying at its heart. We find 1t
suddenly withering. when 1t should ba