I WAS never a lover of Blue-Stockings either at home or abroad; but of all that I have met with, I think the French are the most tolerable, and the Scotch the most tormenting. In France the genuine power and authority which the women exert, and have long exerted, in swaying the course of public opinion in regard to a vast variety of subjects, are sufficient, were there nothing more, to make one excuse a great deal of their petulance and presumption. And then there is a light graceful ease about the manner of their trespasses, which would carry off the indignation of a Diogenes himself. How is it possible to feel any serious displeasure against a pretty creature that comes tripping up to you with a fan in her hand, and seems quite indifferent whether you ask her to dance a quadrille with you, or sit down by your side, and discuss the merits of the last roman? The truth is, however, that the French ladies in general talk about things they do understand something about—or at least, which it is easy and natural to imagine, may be interesting to their feelings. But what say you to the Scottish Blue-Stockings, whose favourite topics are the Resumption of Cash-payments, the great question of Borough Reform, and the Corn-Bill? They are certainly the very flour of their sex. “Ohe! jam satis est”—I would not be badgered as the great critic is for a moiety of his reputation.

I was at another party of somewhat the same kind last night, where, however, I had the satisfaction of seeing several more characters of some note, and therefore, I repented not my going. Among others, I was introduced to Mrs Grant of Laggan, the author of the Letters from the Mountains, and other well known works. Mrs Grant is really a woman of great talents and acquirements, and might, without offence to any one, talk upon any subject she pleases. But I assure you, any person that hopes to meet with a Blue-Stocking, in the common sense of the term, in this lady, will feel sadly disappointed. She is as plain, modest, and unassuming, as she could have been had she never stepped from the village, whose name she has rendered so celebrated.