charge of flirtation in themselves; yet, all are ready to detect and despise it in their friends. All can detect in others, when the bland and beaming smile is put on for the occasion; when expressive looks are interchanged; when glittering curls are studiously displayed; when songs are impressively sung; when flowers which have been presented, are preserved and worn; when unnecessary attentions are artfully called forth; but, above all, for it is best to cut short this catalogue of folly, when conversation is so ingeniously turned as to induce, and almost compel some personal allusion, in which a compliment must almost unavoidably be couched.
And in all this system of absurdity, containing items of folly too numerous for tongue or pen to tell, from the glance of a beautiful eye, to the expression of a mutual sentiment; from the gathering of a favourite flower, to the awakening of a dormant passion; from the pastime of an idle moment, to the occupation of years; in all this, it is deeply to be regretted, that the influence of man is such, as to excite, rather than to repress—to encourage this worse than folly, rather than to warn and to correct. Indeed, whatever may be the excellencies of man in every other walk of life, it is a subject of something more than regret, that these excellencies are so little called forth in his intercourse with woman in mixed society. As a father, a husband, a brother, and a friend, his character assumes a totally different aspect. And why, I would ask of him, if his eye should ever deign to glance over these pages,—why is he not the friend of woman in society, as well as in the more intimate relations of social and domestic life?
Time was, when warriors and heroes deemed it not incompatible with glory or renown, to make the cause of helpless woman their's. Nay, such was the respect in which her claims were held, that the banner could not
