gislation, and standing as an advocate at the bar. If
man, through a spirit of despotism, of meanness, or from whatever
motive, shall trench on her God-given and inalienable rights, she must
commit herself to that Being, who ever judgeth righteously.

Another trial of this sex is one which I descant upon, in this place,
with diffidence. Yet so severe are the sufferings, that spring, directly
and remotely, from the exercise of her Affections, that I could not
acquit myself of true fidelity, were I silent on this topic.

By an appointment of Providence, woman is so constituted as to find her
bane, or her blessing, pre-eminently in the interests of her heart. Her
natural ardor, and strength of feeling, prompt her to place her
affections on some object, with concentration and intensity. Nor is she
exempt from that credulity, which usually accompanies an ardent
temperament. Hence, the depths of her heart become often a fountain of
disappointments, troubles, and sorrows. Her affections may be bestowed
where they shall meet no requital. Perhaps this result was wholly
unanticipated; or, it may be, there was less self-control than might
have been desired. Let the cause be of whatever description, the
consequences are most trying to the female character. Man may throw off
a grief thus occasioned by seeking new objects of interest. But woman
must wear the iron round her very soul, and sometimes, only sits down,
to weep, and sink in despondency. For such sorrow there is but one
anodyne. No earthly solace can sustain a spirit thus stricken.

In the destiny of her affections woman is, to a great degree, passive.
She has little option left her. A negative, or affirmative reply, is all
that shall decide the fortunes of her happiness through life. To how
many desires, crosses, and reverses of feeling, to what painful
indecision, or regretted decisions, is she thus exposed. Friends may
induce the receipt of attentions, where her heart cannot follow the
assent of her lips. Perhaps her prospects have but assumed some
certainty, when the promised hand is capriciously withdrawn. I have read
the record of one, who, in the agony of a grief thus awakened, pursued
the object of her regard into scenes of trouble, released him from
prison, by her generous gifts, and attended him, when driven, by his
guilty courses, to actual insanity. She, who thus conducts, is no summer
friend. The blight of such sympathy is no ordinary calamity. Who is
surpris