LEDYARD'S CHARACTER OF WOMEN. [LEDYARD, the celebrated traveller, who is quoted in the ensuing extract from one of the essays of an occasional correspondent with the Port Folio, was a native of Connecticut. At the early age of eighteen, with no other advantages than those which a grammar school had afforded, his ardent, curiosity and enterprising genius were displayed. Alone in a canoe, the work of his own hands, and with provisions for which he was indebted to the kindness of his village friends, he performed his first voyage, by descending the Connecticut river from Dartmouth to Hartford, without any previous knowledge of its navigation. In 1771, he sailed to London as a common sailor, and accompanied captain Cook, with whom he was a favourite, in his third voyage of discovery. A narrative of his various adventures, a description of the fatigues, the perils and the disappointments which this indefatigable traveller encountered, though highly interesting, would not be within the scope of this work. We shall merely add, that he died at Cairo, in the year 1789, while on a journey to explore the interior parts of Africa. In the year 1781, he published an account of Cook's voyage; and his pilgrimage through various regions of the globe, may be traced in his communications to the African Association at London. In one of these, he has borne a testimony in behalf of the sex, which is at once elegant, grateful and just. I CONFESS I am not one of those who endeavour to establish a fancied superiority by reviling the female character, and I think these midnight lucubrations have borne testimony to my sincere fondness and undissembled respect for its loveliness and dignity. Milton has acknowledged that love is one of the lowest ends of human life;" and I readily believe that this world, without the sweet intercourse of looks and smiles, would be but a wide waste indeed. Why is it that, in the hour of distress, we forget all our vaunted heroism, and fly to the arms of female kindness for that consolation, which we in vain seek in our own reflections? And why is it that the tears of a woman have more effect in arousing our feelings, than the loudest call of the clarion? It is that allpervading influence, which moves every passion of the human breast, it is that which melts the most fierce into docility, and inspires even cowardice with bravery. Spencer, a favourite poet with me, bas a passage on the influence of women in distress, which I wish every one to read and admire: Nought is there under Heaven's hollownesse, When such I see, that all for pity I could dy. But whilst I admire, and praise and defend, let me not be supposed to be so blind as to see all their virtues and their vices, their beauties and deformities in the same partial light. No; the canvas so alluring to the eye is yet tarnished by many a stain. The sickly mein of affectation, the folly of a weak mind, and the ungenial chill of prudery, the vice of an impure mind, with many other frailties that female flesh is heir to, must be corrected before woman can be called perfect. Yet with all these imperfections, how infinitely do they surpass us in virtue, friendship, constancy, fortitude, genuine good sense, and unaffected good nature! Let me add a grateful testimony of older experience, of which I have been reminded by these reflections. In the travels of Ledyard, this celebrated traveller says, he has "always remarked that women in all countries, are civil, obliging, tender and humane; that they are ever inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest; and that they do not hesitate, like men, to perform a kind or generous action. "Not haughty, not arrogant, not supercilious; they are full of courtesy, and fond of society. More liable in general to err than man, but in general also more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. To a woman, whether civilized or savage, I never addressed myself in the language of friendship and decency, without receiving a friendly and decent answer; with man it has often been otherwise. "In wandering over the barren plains of inhospitable Denmark, through honest Sweden and frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, unpriucipled Russia, and the wide-spread regions of the wandering Tartars; if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, the women have ever been friendly to me, and uniformly so; and to add to this virtue, so worthy the appellation of benevolence, these actions have been performed in so free and kind a manner, that if I was thirsty, I drank the sweetest draught, and if hungry, I ate the coarsest meal with a double relish." ON FEMALE ATTRACTIONS. FLAVELLA has a multitude of charms. She is sensible, affable, modest and good humoured. She is tall without being awkward, and as straight as an arrow. She has a clear complexion, lively eyes, pretty mouth, and white, even teeth; and will answer the description which any rhyming lover can give of the mistress of his affections, after having ransacked heaven and earth for similies; and yet I cannot admire her. She wants, in my opinion, that nameless something, or Je ne scai quoi, which is far more attractive than beauty.— It is, in short, a peculiar manner of saying the most insignificant things, and doing the most trifling actions which captivates us, and takes our hearts by surprise. Though I am a strenuous advocate for a modest, decent and unaffected deportment in the fair sex, I would not, however, have a fine woman altogether insensible of her personal charms, for she would then be as insipid as Flavella. I would only have her conscious enough of them to behave with modest freedom, and to converse with fluency and spirit. When a woman stalks majestically into a room, with the haughty airs of a first rate beauty, and expects every one who sees her to admire her, my indignation rises, and I get away as fast as I can, in order to enjoy the conversation of an easy, good humoured creature, who is neither beautiful, nor conceited enough to be troublesome, and who is as willing to give pleasure, as desirous to receive it. TENDERNESS TO MOTHERS. MARK! that parent hen, said a father to his beloved daughter. With what anxious care does she call together her little offspring, and cover them with her expanded wings. The kite is hovering in the air, and disappointed of his prey, by the care the hen takes of her brood, may perhaps, dart upon the hen herself, and bear her off in his talons. Does not this sight suggest to you the tenderness and affection of your mother? her watchful care protected you in the helpless period of your infancy, when she nourished you with her milk, taught your limbs to move, and your tongue to lisp its unformed accents. In childhood, she has mourned over your little griefs, has rejoiced in your innocent delights, has administered to you the healing balm in sickness, and has instilled into your mind the love of truth, of virtue, and of wisdom. Oh! cherish every sentiment of respect to such a mother: she merits your warmest gratitude, esteem and veneration. PERCIVAL. CHARACTER OF TWO SISTERS. FLIRTILLA is a gay, lively, giddy girl; she is what the world calls handsome; she dances and sings admirably, has something to say upon every fashion, person, play, opera, masquerade, or public exhibition, and has an easy flow of words, that pass upon the multitude for. wit. In short, the |