n eyes, watching his coming. But, he came no
more.... The night that made her a wife, made him a corpse. He had driven
a stiletto through his heart.... The young bride went into a paroxysm of
grief; and went raving mad.... And now for sixteen years had she lived
with a dead heart in her bosom."

Many of the suicides in America are slandered by fanatics of the
temperance society, as being caused by intemperance. Mr. Headley, here,
satisfies himself, by venting against the unfortunate young man, these
words: "to render his death still more heart-breaking, he had not left her
a single line." Such a gratuitous imputation is, indeed unkind against a
man, now in his grave! Had, the writer of "Italy, and the Italians,"
sounded a little more the italian heart, he might have found, that the
woman, who turned insane, and the man who killed himself for love, cannot
have looseness of morals. He, and she who feel love, have a heavenly mind,
free from every immoral propensity; and the innocent girl in the private
company of her lover, is more morally guarded, than by the most careful
parent. I speak here of a lover, and not of those wretches, who dishonor
love, and whose base passion renders them incapable of killing themselves
for a woman. And here I may use the language of an american lady from her
Alida. "I cannot despair of any one who can love--not with the temporary
interest that changes its object, as whim, or accident directs; but, who,
in spite of disappointment, coldness, rejection, absence, despair, still
clings to her who first taught his heart to feel it."

Mr. Headley is rather one of the most mild in his language, among the many
writers who, in copying each other, bring such an unjust blame on all the
italian ladies. There may be nations, where ladies might know better how
to conceal their affections; but, as the race of Adam and Eve are all
beings of flesh, blood, and bones, instances of depravity are found in
every part of the world; and like sins, stand in the records of America as
well as of Italy: and as there are gentlemen who have their mother and
sisters in Italy, whom they esteem and honor, I would advise such writers
to use a better language, when they write of other nations. To speak
disrespectfully of the ladies of a whole nation, it is not a
demonstration; and it is only the devil on two sticks, who could be able
to say so. A gentleman from the top of a tower, cannot see what passes in
the households of a