The Sun. — 1827-01-06 (London, England)

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTII."—A most instance of this pathetic aphorism, occurred a few days since in Whitechapel-road. Mr. Helsham,/ surgeon and apothecary, in that Oriental district, had a servant maid, lavely, pensive, and twenty-seven ; whose charms had taken forcible possession of the heart of his apprentice, a young man,l 'thin, languishing, and nineteen. Now it so happened, that this! amiable couple, though gifted abundantly with those virtues whichi lovers are apt to have, yet possessed, like Othello, one tragic defect, which being by degrees dropped into the " pure fountain of their hearts," Completely neutralized its purity. The servant maid—we grieve to state it—conceived suspicions injurious to the innocence of her sweet-heart—her sweet-heart on the other hand, imagined it possible that snow might excel his mistress in purity, so that you may naturally suppose how exceedingly wretched this susceptible but mistaken couple must have made themselves. It came to pass, however, that one day their affliction reached its climax.— The servant maid had just done scouring the stove, and the apprentice had just prepared an elixir (two penn'orth of laudanum) intended to despatch some unoffending patient into a happier and better world, when a Miss , a visitor at Mr. Belsham's, (who had enjoined his apprentice, whenever she should call, to pay her every attention) suddenly knocked at the door. The amiable lyouth, obedient to his master's commands, ,who happened to be !out at the time, proceeded to pay this young lady every befitting attention—he helped her to take off her cloak, assisted her to bread and butter, handed her the tea, and eke the toast, and, in short, did the agreeable to the best of his ability. All this while the poor servant maid was weeping al on e,and deserted in the kitchen. Suddenly, however, she felt herself inspired with demoniac phrenzy, indignantly threw down the hearth-broom, with which (since the 'truth must be told) she bad been sweeping the cobwebs, rushed into the shop,—and by dispatching a due proportion of poison, added thereby one more to the numerous list of 42Esculapiaii martyrs. While thus engaged, her moans reached the ears of her lover, who, naturally bolting in at the shop-door to ascertain the cause, beheld _Oh, heavens and earth !—his love faint and dying, from the effects of wounded affection." Struck with the extent of her sacrifice, he passionately exclaimed, " she's drunk it all by jingo; howsomdever, she sha'nt get nothing by it, for I'll drink it too" ; so tippled the remainder, and then laid himself down by her side. . Meanwhile Miss ll had made the best of her way towards an adjoining shop; and what is very singular in her conduct, and of course very unfashionable, had contrived to tell her story to the neighbours without . a single hysteric., Assistance was immediately procured, and however destruct tive it may be to a tale like this of sentiment, yet a regard for historic truth obliges us to confess that the stomach ptinip was resorted to; which after duly dislodging at least three " noggins" of poison, happily resuscitated the suicides. Our reporter who gave us this " domestic drama," (a promising young man in the accident line) assures it was quite affecting to see th lovers:3 they lay, calmly and tranquilly side by side, clasped ii each other's arms. The youth in particurar furnished a very happy illustration of Romeo in the agony of death, with the slight exception, that his shirt was not quite so clean as it might hay; been. But who, we ask, is perfect ?