Stirring events are shaking the national capital. Scarcely have the colored lights of the country folded their tents and stolen away from their convention before Washington is visited by another dazzling meteoric shower. To-day, the great national woman’s rights convention has met and occupies its position upon the world’s stage. Senator Pomeroy, of Kansas, seems to be the central figure around which this planetary system of women revolve. As early as 10 o’clock a. m. a great number of the so-called weaker sex were seen hurrying along toward Carroll Hall, the place designated for the meeting. It was observed by all that these early comers were not those sisters of the community who wear silk and satin, and who fare sumptuously every day. They seemed to come from the even plain of society; they seemed to be the wives and daughters of the thrifty tradesmen and well-to-do mechanics. Some of them came in timidly, and took seats near the door, while others marched in boldly, being handsomely flanked or guarded by the “lords of creation.” Curiosity and suppressed mirthfulness characterized the appearance of the latter; at the same time these men had provided themselves with newspapers, into which they could plunge whenever it should seem the most convenient thing to do. In a little side room at the right hand of the platform were gathered a handful of combustibles of sufficient strength and tenacity of purpose to move the world, if, like Archimedes, they had only a point upon which to place the fulcrum. This fulcrum appeared to them to be the ballot. Before the patience of the medium-sized audience was entirely exhausted, Senator Pomeroy filed out of the side room, followed by the venerable Lucretia Mott, Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Miss Susan B. Anthony, Mrs. Josephine S. Griffing, and a host of lesser lights; some few of the latter shining on the platform by reflection alone. As it may be possible that some of the readers of the _Republican_ have never seen Pomeroy, a brief description of the man so long identified with this movement may not be out of place. It must first be acknowledged that he stood alone on the platform with this handful of pioneer women by his side. We mean by this that no other Congressmen were gathered there. Though Senator Pomeroy has not advanced to the snows of age, he has outlived the fiery turbulence of manhood. Nature did not cast him in her finest mould, but she gave him breadth of shoulder, and a brow broad and capacious enough for Jupiter; a brown eye, which twinkles as steadily as a fixed star; a good-sized American nose, and a mouth which has ever been devoted to the cause of the gentler sex, and which any woman of taste would approve. Senator Pomeroy called the meeting to order, and then remarked, “While one plants and another sows, it is God who giveth the increase.”