It seems that in the first edition of the _Encyclopædia_, published in 1798, the editor defined woman as “the female of man. See _Homo_.” Finally, Miss Hogarth, who began by telling what women had done for the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, ended by saying what it had given them, viz. the opportunity, hitherto unequalled, of showing what they could do to help learning, the chance to demonstrate their rightful place in the learned world. Afterwards Mrs. Fawcett, in an excellent speech, said that the wife of a working-man (if she did her duty) was the hardest-worked creature on the face of the globe. Pointing to the successes achieved by women in various directions, she recalled the remark of a famous Cambridge coach who reproached his idle students, asking how they would like to be beaten by a woman. One replied, “I should much prefer it, sir, to being beaten by a man.” To end up the notices of this memorable dinner, ever-delightful _Punch_ helps one to leave off with a smile. This is a little scrap stolen—be quiet, Toby!—from a column of quips and cranks honouring our gathering: “PERPETUAL EMOTION. “(_From ‘The Times’ of December 20, 1906._) “THE series of spritely dinners given by the proprietors of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ to the contributors to the eleventh edition is still in full swing, the two hundred and fiftieth being held last night. Sir HUGH CHISHOLM took the Chair as usual, habit having become second nature with him; and he made, for a nonagenarian, a singularly lucid speech, in which he once again explained the genesis of the Encyclopædic idea and its progress through the ages until it reached perfection under his own fostering care. Sir HUGH, who spoke only for two hours instead of his customary three, was at times but imperfectly heard by the Press, but a formidable array of ear-trumpets absorbed his earlier words at the table. “Sir THOMAS BEECHAM, Mus.Doc., responding for the toast of the musical contributors, indulged in some interesting reminiscences of his early career. In those days, as he reminded his hearers, he was a paulo-post-Straussian. But it proved only a case of _sauter pour mieux reculer_, and now he confessed that he found it impossible to listen with any satisfaction to music later than that of MENDELSSOHN. After all, melody, simple and unsophisticated, was the basic factor in music, and an abiding fame could never be built up on the calculated pursuit of eccentricity. “Lord GOSSE, who entered and dined in a wheeled chair, remarked incidentally that he had missed only seven out of the two hundred and fifty dinners, and then told some diverting if not too novel anecdotes of his official connection with the Board of Trade and recited a charming sonnet which he had composed in honour of the Editor, the two last lines running as follows: Foe of excess, of anarchy and schism, I lift my brimming glass to thee, HUGH CHISHOLM.