wreathes; literature traces to its nutritious. source its most delicate perfume and eternal verdure; and even the highest branches of knowledge have had their erratic wanderings strewed with flowers by the fair hand of woman. If we turn over the page of history, and take a glance at the progress of society and the revolutions of empires, we will find that the social and moral world have ever rendered homage to the supremacy of the sex, and have erected imperishable trophies to their genius, fate and loveliness. The influence of woman, devested of the Sybil garb of fabulous antiquity, extended through the brilliant ages of the Greek and Roman Republics; I shall not, however, dwell on the different instances of their paramount authority, recorded in the voluminous pages of ancient history, but shall confine myself to some beautiful illustrations drawn from contemporary annals.

The destinies of France have constantly bowed to the genius of woman. The hydra of the Revolution was conceived in the Salons of Paris; and the sex were devested of their charming attributes, when they assisted at this monstrous birth. The influence of Josephine prepared the nation for the imperial yoke, and the fetes at Malmaison, conciliated every heart in favour of Napoleon: while his victories secured the admiration of Frenchmen, Josephine wrapt the chains which were preparing for them, in garlands of flowers. Amid the important events of a later date, the destiny of

the country was again controlled by female ascendancy. The Bourbon sceptre, which, like the staff of Aaron, had blossomed anew, again withered under the frown of insulted woman. The indignities cast on the ladies of Bonaparte's court, by the old noblesse, were fearfully avenged-and the pride of history is humbled, in tracing the misfortunes which assailed France, to such a contemptible source; but, in its stern impartiality, it can find no other cause commensurate with the decisive event.

The annals of literature give ample testimony of female influence. Addison was made to rue the luckless hour, when he aspired to an ennobled bed. His haughty and disdainful spouse drove him from domestic comforts to the fatal exhilaration of the bottle, and the fires of his genius were quenched in the sparkling bowl. Swift was dragged from his ambitious ascent by the grasp of the implacable Dutchess of Somerset, whom he had libelled with the foulest opprobrium. On his return to his native country, the empire of his heart was contested by two amiable women, with whom he had long coquetted, and both of whom he sent to an untimely tomb; but the author of their misfortunes did not close his days in peace or with honour-his heart was torn by contending passions, and his reason overwhelmed by the regret of disappointed ambition-and he descended into the grave in a state of total insanity. Gibbon's existence was

protracted, and the life that quivered on his infant lips, was fixed and matured, by the fond solicitude and watchful tenderness of his affectionate aunt. The powerful mind of Johnson was enlivened by the attentions and volubility of "his Tetty;" and the opulence of another lady multiplied his comforts and administered to his insatiable appetite.

The mind of Cowper was sustained, and his infirmities nursed by the most lovely circle of valuable friends that ever watched an afflicted mortal in seasons of overwhelming adversity. The indescribable load of despondency which had clouded the brilliant faculties of this admirable poet, gave way before the golden dawn of female charms. Providence seems to have supplied him (says his elegant and affectionate biographer) at different periods of his troubled existence, with exactly such friends as the peculiar exigency of his situation required. The truth of this remark is exemplified in the seasonable assistance that his tender spirits derived from the kindness of Mrs. Unwin at Huntingdon; of Lady Austen and Lady Hesketh at Olney, and of a variety of other friends. It was not ill his 50th year, that Cowper commenced author; but before that period he had not been idle. He had received from nature a contemplative spirit, perpetually acquiring the richest mental treasures, which he at length unveiled, to dazzle and astonish the world, with their unexpected magnificence.

Whitelocke, Moliere, Saville, Milton, Rousseau and Steele, afford instances of the infirmities and misfortunes of men of genius, in their matrimonial connections. The immortal author of Paradise Lost, did not evince his usual acuteness of intellect in the choice of his wives; his first "better half" was the object of a sudden whim. He bestowed his affections on a perfect hoyden, who was soon tired of the literary seclusion of the poet, and scampered off after living about a month with him. Sir Richard Steele, who possessed a "heart that vibrated to a feeling tone"-married a frigid, insensible "Miss Prue," as he facetiously calls her. Moliere, so skilful in painting the foibles of others, united himself to a giddy actress from his own troop, who afforded him a model (which he would have dispensed with!) for some of his satirical pictures. Jean-Jacques, who astonished all Europe by the boldness and originality of his writings, crouched under the ignominious sway of his illiterate Therese. The wife of Whitelocke often destroyed his valuable Manuscripts, and (as D'Israeli observes) the marks of her nails have come down to posterity in the numerous lacerations still gaping in his "Memorials!"

To the perpetual care of his celebrated "Britannia," Camden voluntarily sacrificed all other views in life, and even withdrew from the pleasures of a domestic circle; for he refused a lucrative marriage and preferments,

which might interrupt his darling studies. Mademoiselle Curchod, was the object of the only attachment which Gibbon ever formed, and his love for her was not very deep, as he left her with few "compunctious visitings"although he bears testimony to the charms of her person and mind, and to the exquisite sensibility of her heart, formed for the finest and most delicate sentiments of love. After his shadow began to lengthen on the vale of life, he felt the want of a female companion. He had fixed himself, with his friend Deyverdun, at Lausanne in Switzerland, where he enjoyed all the enviable delights of literary leisure. In a letter to Lord Sheffield, after describing his agreeable establishment, he humorously observes: "Deyverdun and I have often agreed, in jest and in earnest, that a house like ours would be regulated, and graced, and enlivened, by an agreeable female companion; but each of us seems desirous that his friend should sacrifice himself for the public good. I have discovered about half a dozen wives who would please me in different ways, and by various merits: one as a mistress; a 2nd a lively entertaining acquaintance; a 3rd, a sincere good-natured friend; a 4th, who would represent with grace and dignity at the head of my table and family; a 5th, an excellent economist and house-keeper; and a 6th, a very useful nurse! Could I find all these qualities, united in a single person, I should dare o make my addresses, and I should deserve to be refused!"