In the contemplation of this hope what he now sees before him in his womankind as a whole is an intellectual plant of idle and promiscuous growth, capable, as its rarer shoots prove, of the sturdiest and most luxuriant upward ranging, but content for the most part to twine itself, like the convolvulus, round the first support offered to its tendrils, a house, a domestic affection, the crumbling tower of antiquated beliefs, the hazily pointing sign-post of a dubious philosophy or the hardier neighbouring weeds which are rooted in passions and desires. From these more handy and material supports it will not tear itself away to grow towards the sun with lithe, independent shoots disdainfully forcing their way past all encumbrances. The rarer instances where from choicer ground and more livening influences this species pushes a vigorous head into the skies serve only to accentuate the lazy lowliness of the general stock. It seems to shrink from the light of ideas, or, where the attraction of the light is too imperious to be resisted, it lifts a shoot gingerly upwards only to curl a tendril lovingly round the first comfortable fact met with in the short upward progress, and to adhere to it gracefully, quite satisfied with the result of its exertion. Or let us vary the illustration. Men, in their intellectual journey, can contemplate with satisfaction at the first glance some vast mansion of knowledge rising up before them from its solid foundations to all the infinite variety of its higher tracery. That they cannot grasp the whole does not trouble them, for they quickly see the stages by which the ascent to greater knowledge will be attained. They are inspired not bewildered by the lofty prospect, resigning themselves happily to a study of the bare plan that will enable them to explore the beauties of the mansion intelligently and in order. The woman, on the other hand, is appalled by such an approach: the mansion swims before her eyes, the plan seems a confusing maze of meaningless lines. Her introduction must proceed on a different method. She must be led in by a side door through some pleasant alley into one of the rooms of the mansion, all comfortably furnished with easy chairs and pictures on the walls. Here, if she is allowed to linger without being too hastily pushed on by the official guide, her curiosity will be aroused. The assimilation of one room will prompt her to a timid sally into the next one, and so by good luck, if she is never frightened, she may in time be as much at home as any other explorer. Yet even then it is questionable whether she will ever venture out into the main court to gain a comprehensive view of the whole and of its relation to the surrounding architecture. Her domestic instinct tells her that she is more at home indoors, attending to the things which she can touch and see. So she is content to inhabit an _appartement_ in the palace of truth, as an invalid