One gets reconciled in a measure to the useless talk and little time-serving expedients of our Colonial Parliament, after viewing precisely the same kind of impulsiveness and inconsistency in the proceedings of the House of Commons. At least, we feel a sort of relief in finding that human littleness is not peculiar to Australian politicians.
Among other centres of attraction in London lately, the National Association for the Promotion of Social Science has been holding its annual meetings. The inaugural address was delivered on the evening of the 5th, in Exeter Hall, by Lord Brougham. One would have expected the announcement of that name to fill the hall to overflowing, but the spacious room was little more than half full on the occasion. I had never heard Lord Brougham speak, and was very anxious to listen to that voice of the force and vehemence of which I had read such glowing descriptions. Accordingly, I got to Exeter Hall full three-quarters of an hour before the time of meeting, and selected my own position in a line with the chair, and not more than five seats from the platform. It was considerably past the appointed time when the statesman-philosopher made his appearance amidst
