—a statesman, a man of letters, a philanthropist, whose life is now portion of the history of our country -statements otherwise trivial, and references often remote, grow into adventitious importance. "Grattan, Plunkett, Wellington, Wellesley," said Brougham, on rising to address the meeting, "all of these I have been doomed to outlive, and to the dispensations of Providence it is fit we should be resigned." Thus a thousand associations rushed on the memory of orator and hearer, as Brougham glanced at the labours of Bentham and Denman, the associates of his youth-as he spoke of the discoveries of Black, Priestley, Lavoisier, and Davy, whose biographies he has written-as he traced the foundations of political economy, himself no mean authority, from Hume and Smith, across the Channel to their French predecessors as he gave a line to the "calculus," and a sentence to "gravitation," in honour of papers written for the French Academy, and in remembrance of his late oration delivered at the foot of Newton's statue. To the living Brougham also paid fitting tribute: "to his learned colleague, that great philanthropist, Mr Recorder Hill;" to Captain Crofton, of Irish prisons and reformatories; and to other labourers, some seated around him, honoured for their generous efforts to ameliorate the condition of the people. All this, coming from Lord Brougham, was listened to without impatience, by nearly two thousand people, for a space of time exceeding two hours. The discourse was put together with the skill by no means uncommon to a newspaper article, and the materials, for the

most part, would have been welcome in a column devoted to "tabletalk," or "weekly gossip." Take, for example, the following important fact in social science: "The decease of the Sultan," said Lord Brougham, "has brought upon the Ottoman throne a prince who begins his reign as a reformer, both in his own practice and in the scheme of his administration-nay, even in the system which he is resolved to introduce the dismissal of his predecessor's harem of scores of wives and hundreds of mistresses." Did the noble President expect that the new Sultan should adopt as his own the worn-out wives and mistresses of his predecessor? The question is of such delicacy that we beg to refer its further consideration to a select committee. The next point in the address, paper, penny-a-lining, and woodcuts, may claim the attention of the literary profession. During the past year social science has had to mourn over a few failures, but, on the other hand, it behoves, it would appear, all lovers of the intellectual progress of mankind to rejoice over some signal successes. On the authority of Lord Brougham, the greatest boon which has yet been secured to the world by his darling Association is cheap paper. "The effect," he says, "of this most salutary repeal of the paperduty, has been immediate, and it has been great."* "One daily paper," he continues, "has a circulation of 80,000, and a halfpenny weekly journal, with excellent cuts, has been established, and already issues above 180,000." We, of course, congratulate our contemporaries, both daily and weekly, on so speedy and so prodigious a commercial success.

And we equally felicitate the cause of social science in begetting and maintaining, at so cheap a cost, offspring which, we feel assured, will ever redound to the honour of literature and art. Yet we were unwilling to suppose that the intellectual dignity and value of the congress held in the capital of Ireland was to be measured by these results. It is assuredly rather too much to require that the world should receive as the axioms of science some of the most recent, and, it may be, the most doubtful, results of contemporaneous legislation.

That crowds of men and hundreds of ladies should come to applaud for two hours an address of this quality, is nothing more than might have been anticipated; but that they should go home with the flattering unction that they had graduated in science or philosophy, would be, to adopt oft-repeated words, "a mockery, a delusion, and a snare." Lord Brougham still holds the stage with the pertinacity of a public favourite, eager to catch the dying echo of popular applause. For a great man, in the absence of more onerous duties, to amuse himself and his hearers with anecdote and talk, is at least harmless, and in some degree praiseworthy. But scientific inquiry and philosophic research are processes too severe for mere pleasing pastime and showy rhetoric. The name of Brougham, however, notwithstanding certain weaknesses, must live, and among words and deeds which cannot be forgotten will be ranked the following peroration, solemn in thought, and terse in expression:

"The past," said Brougham, with voice gathering again its strength for a climax" the past lends encouragement to the future. Let us then persevere to the end; but let us not forget that all our efforts to improve the condition of our fellowcreatures, and make them worthy of their destiny, are as nothing compared with the progress in higher things. These are the great aim and end of our being. In all

our pursuits, in our whole existence, an instinctive sense attends us that we are unsatisfied. The want of something permanent ever haunts us. Whatever exertions we have made, whatever success had, whatever gratification received, only makes us feel how hollow it all ishow much we desire that which endures. The scenes of early days which we revisit, now become dim from time, peopled with the forms of those whose memory they sadly recall, make us long for the bright scenes that can never fade, and for rejoining friends, to part no more. The present doubt, and the struggle, and the darkness, is for the hour; the prospect is cheering, and it is for ever; and so it is with our National Association, which commands our allegiance and justifies the hopes it inspires. Undaunted by resistance, undisturbed by faction, undismayed by real coldness or affected contempt, we persevere in our course of social labour; but we lift our views higher, to scenes far above the darkness of ignorance that shrouds one region, the mists of doubt that obscure, the storms of passion that vext another, and behold the lofty summit shining in the faith and adoration of God, glowing with universal benevolence to man. 'As some tall cliff'(I gladly," said Brougham, "pronounce these noble lines in the land which gave them birth)”— "As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm;

Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,

Eternal sunshine settles on its head.""

We are happy to know that a sweet foretaste of this "eternal sunshine" was already granted to the Dublin congress in the winning smiles of true Irish beauty. For we need scarcely say that the sociability of science would at its very best have been but dreary and desolate, had not woman come to charm the labours of the day. Let it not be supposed that we are

about to descend into mere commonplace compliment, which the fair cultivators of science, glorying in the philosophic mind, would spurn as an insult to advanced intellect. We believe we are called upon to discuss not "privileges, but "rights;" for "social science," we understand, takes as one of its bases the equal rights of woman side by side with man. This startling attitude on the part of ladies, analogous, we presume, to the uprising of certain oppressed nationalities on the continent of Europe, has at length, we are informed, assumed the definite form of a positive organisation. Women there are, we are told, hitherto doomed to blush and die in inglorious obscurity, who aspire to a vocation, desire to become illustrious, it may be notorious, content with nothing short of equality, not to say identity, with men. Women there are, it seems, though not, unfortunately, in the quiet unambitious sphere of our acquaintance, who commence and close every day of their existence with fervent thanks to God that they are not like others of their sex. It is evident that we are entering on a new epoch in the world's history, and it will, we are sure, be to the lasting glory of the "National Association," that in the great temple of social science niches have been provided for the ladies. In modern times, we fear, it has been too much the habit to look to woman merely in the character of Venus, forgetting that in ancient days there were likewise Minervas, and even Amazons. It was, if we recollect rightly, reserved for Mr Buckle to discover that, on the whole, the influence of woman had proved favourable to the progress of civilisation. And we think it had been previously determined, on authority equally incontestable, that men were likewise of value in the economy of nature. But, as we have said, it remained for the National Association to prove what vast benefits, social, intellectual, and even political, might yet accrue

from a joint co-operation. Thus we are sure our readers will rejoice to hear that the great congress in Dublin witnessed the cheering spectacle of women rising from their seats, reading papers, and addressing public and mixed audiences. We live, let us all delight to remember, in enlightened days. Even England's greatest men in literature and science were, we regret to think, scarcely prepared for these glorious developments of the female intellect. Addison in the Spectator, in writing, as he was wont to do, on ladies' topics, upon "the hoop petticoat," a coquette's heart," and "the exercise of the fan,” indulged, it is sad to think, in mere elegant trifling; and Dr Johnson, as might be apprehended, became, when he descended to such themes, positively insulting. On one occasion the stern moralist, if we remember rightly, was asked for his opinion on the subject of woman's preaching. Sir," said he, with a growl," it reminds one of a dog dancing on his hind legs: the wonder is, not that he does it so badly, but that he can do it at all." Yet we regret to know that in Dublin there were found cynics still surviving, who in form, it may be, more refined, and in terms less express, were tacitly of the Doctor's opinion. The spectacle, however, of a woman's speaking, told with astounding effect; crowds came as if to witness a phenomenon transcending the limits of ordinary nature. Nor was curiosity doomed to be wholly disappointed. A lady rises to address the meeting; she is asked by the President her name, and by parenthesis adds in a low voice, "I believe I am not wholly unknown." Another lady, ex cathedra, holds forth in this strain: "Is there not among those who hear me," &c.

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"I beseech, I entreat you." "I speak as the representative of two societies in the city of Dublin," &c. Here followed, we believe, a touching appeal to drunken husbands, than which nothing so thrilling has been witnessed since

the delivery of Mrs Caudle's wellknown curtain lecture on the "latchkey."

"What!" exclaims Mrs Caudle, "you'll have a key, will you? Not while I'm alive, Mr Caudle. Carry the street-key about with you! I've heard of such things with young good-for-nothing bachelors, with nobody to care what became of them; but for a married man to leave his wife and children in a house with the door upon the latch-don't talk to me about Chubb, it's all the same-a great deal you must care for us. No, I think when a man comes to have a streetdoor key, the sooner he turns bachelor again the better."

Mr Caudle, we are told, at length sank to sleep amid the falling sentences, "take children into a lodging"- separate maintenance," and so forth.

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We need scarcely say, that in Dublin the really important question of the employment of women in recognised branches of industry, with other cognate subjects, was soon resolved into the still more momentous calculation, the chances of marriage. The returns of the Registrar - General are alarming; the preponderance of the female sex was, in the realms of social science, naturally regarded as a fact the most disastrous; and statistics have now, we believe, proved, by tabular statements not to be controverted, that husbands cannot be found in the required numbers. This is surely a case in which science, if of any worth at all, may be expected to supply the remedy. And, accordingly, statistics for once come to the aid of sentiment, and hard facts are found, as they of course always should be, at least under the benign reign of social science, upon the side of tenderest emotion. In the section set apart to the consideration of these all-important subjects, the announcement was made just at the moment when most wanted, that in Australia alone there are no less than 155,000 men in excess of women. We presume we shall best

fulfil the objects of the meeting by giving still wider publicity to this most consoling statement. A committee, we were given to understand, had been already formed for shipping off some at least of our surplus population, and it seemed the unanimous opinion that speedy emigration was the one thing needful. Towards the conclusion of the debate a few boys rose from their seats, and gave to the meeting the results of their valuable and extended experience. A veteran on the subject, a man apparently matured in debating club and platform sparring, then addressed the audience upon woman's political rights. This morning's campaign in favour of the ladies, thus brought to a close, was, we inferred, deemed a marked success. Time-honoured prejudices, once thus shaken, may soon, it is hoped, grow obsolete, and at length be wholly surrendered. Professors in social science, for example, both male and female, of the more advanced opinions, are already prepared, we hear, to consign the story of the serpent and the apple into the category of myths, and to renounce the accepted origin of Eve in the stolen rib of Adam as a fable wholly derogatory to the sex! All this looks promising. The genius of woman is now, we feel persuaded, in a fair way towards final emancipation.

The heights to which ladies may now attain, were it not inspiring to contemplate, would be truly alarming.

Think of women learned in the doctrines of Malthus on Population; their mornings spent on the Wealth of Nations; their evenings devoted to the last parliamentary returns touching the balance of trade and the laws of navigation! To a lady immersed in the depths of these profound calculations, or raised to the summit of this high social philosophy, in vain, we fear, would the appeal be made

"Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height; What pleasure lives in height (the shep

herd sang),

and cease

To glide a sunbeam by the blasted pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire; And come, for Love is of the valley-come, For love is of the valley-come thou down."

As an old bachelor, we find the notions of our youth already grown antiquated. We are, in fact, in the melancholy situation of being left far behind the times. We date back to a period when women were content to do a great deal of quiet good in their own simple, unpretending, and heart-felt manner, without presuming to any very positive "vocation." We had imagined, that while man's business was in the bustle of the world, in the hot contest of life, with its disappointments no less than its rewards and distinctions, woman's sphere was within the shelter and retreat of the tranquil home. We had known indeed of women, humble in mind, wholly free from the ambition which agitates the ruder sex, deeming it an honour, had they a brother, or it might be one nearer than a brother, who had achieved for the family name renown. To the true glory of the female character we have, in short, every one of us, known women content to live without applause, willing to perform day by day the simple offices of home, to train up children, to watch domestic economy, and, if needs be, to work; in fine, to do all which devoted self-sacrifice can dictate to render our English households the abodes of happiness. And we rejoice to think that thousands and tens of thousands of such women may still be found, who have not given an ear to social science or political philosophy. Yet we cannot, as we have said, but feel that our notions on these subjects are every day growing more out of date. But we are not without the hope that, at least among the most unenlightened portions of the community, our old prejudices may meet with some faint response.

In days gone by, at all events, both in literature and in society, we might have gained a hearing. Les femmes savantes have not certainly, at all times and in all quarters, obtained the sympathy which no doubt they so well deserved. May we venture to quote Molière :"Il n'est pas bien honnête, et pour beaucoup de causes,

Qu'une femme étudie et sache tant de chose.

Former aux bonnes mœurs l'esprit de ses enfants,

Faire aller son ménage, avoir l'œil sur ses gens,

Et régler la dépense avec économie,
Doit être son étude et sa philosophie.
Nos pères, sur ce point, etaient gens bien
sensés.

Les femmes d'à present sont bien loin de

ces mœurs;

Elles veulent écrire et devenir auteurs. Raisonner est l'emploi de toute ma maison, Et le resonnement en bannit la raison. L'un me brûle mon rot, en lisant quelque histoire :

L'autre rêve à des vers, quand je demande à boire :

Enfin je vois par eux votre example suivi, Et j'ai des serviteurs, et ne suis point servi."

Since these benighted lines were written, the march of intellect has been great indeed; women, as we see, no less than men, have taken long strides in pursuit of knowledge, and we now may contemplate the inspiring spectacle of men giants in intellect, and women the very amazons of genius, drawn up side by side in united battalions, ready to do battle in the cause of science and philosophy. This, no doubt, is a sublime phenomenon in the march of universal civilisation. Yet there are still men, we believe, in the race, left behind, who cannot boast of these exalted tastes; and for their sakes we would venture to express the hope that some few ladies may yet be found reconciled to the pleasing vanities of life. Poets, too, there may be among us-for we are not all made of the stout stuff which goes to constitute science-and these men at least, given to poetry and art, would still, we think, gladly find some "phantom of delight," simple and guileless, all guiltless of statistics