“My dear mistress shook her poor head, and said to me—for I was greatly troubled at the first going off to think if it was passed into a law here, what I should have to turn to myself, or whether it would not be more patriotic for me to go back to ould Ireland and be a White-Boy at once, because if the women were turned into men, surely we’d have the best of it then, any how. I _was_ troubled, for I hate the law, and as for Parliament, I never could stand the arguments there, as I’d like best to have my own way, without any contradiction, which a woman can do at home if she’s at all _cute_; so, seeing me bothered, (this as I say was at the first) my lady was quite amused, and ‘Ellen,’ she said, ‘do not trouble yourself about it, there is little doubt but that the more civilized we become, the more employment will be found for women, and the more highly will they be respected; but to be either happy or useful, a woman must be employed as a _Woman_, not as a man; she must be employed where her tenderness, her quick perceptions, her powers of endurance, her unselfishness, her devotion, are called into, and kept in, action. She who is the mother of heroes does not covet to enter the battle-field herself,’ said my mistress, all as one as if she was reading out of a printed book—(I never could handle any thing but a stone, and should dead faint at the sound of a pistol, but I was not going to _let on_ that to her)—so, ‘True for you, ma’am,’ I said, though I was fairly bothered, but made _bould_ to add, ‘Sure no lady could attend to the Parliament-house and the wants of a large small family.’ “‘Oh,’ she said, smiling, ‘no married lady, I suppose, would think of entering Parliament, it would be very awkward indeed when a right honorable lady-member was delivering her opinion on the malt tax, or on the duty on bread-stuffs, just as the ladies on the opposition benches cried out ‘Hear, hear,’ to be interrupted by a message from the _other house_, of ‘Please, ma’am, the baby wants you.’’