the sweetest radiance in woman's eye. All seasons and times prove her excellence and distinction; but none so much as the shade of affliction and scenes of woe. It is not surprising her soul should express itself in a very different manner to that of man; there it sits, as a lady in her bower, singing soft songs of love and charity. Look upon the windows of her soul—those beautiful orbs will tell sweet history and romance.
Oh! what a depth of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear:
But with the inundation of the eyes,
What rocky heart to water will not wear?
"Of all the passions of woman," says Richeraud, "love has the sway, and all other passions are modified by this, and derive from it a peculiar cast, which distinguishes them from those of man." Fontenelle used to say, "with woman man is more than a nation." "Love," says Madame de Staël, "is but an episode in the life of man, but the whole history of the life of woman." In regard to personal expression, we may acknowledge we do not believe its perfect demonstration can be seen until the passions have arrived at maturity, and held holy councils, and adopted their idealities; then, sweetened by the accession of love, the person assumes the modest and charming features of womanly beauty: yes, then her soul seems to have arraigned every sense to attend its great enthronement, and shines midst spiritual light, intellectual fervour, and the exquisiteness of materialism: then ensues that sweet enthusiasm of action, which goes hand in hand with the graces, and woman is enshrined in the highest glory of earthliness. Sensibility in woman is greater than her understanding; the involuntary play of the imagination than its regulated combinations; and passion is generally of the gentler kind, rather than resolve or determination: she has more
