46 
NATURE 
[Mov. 11, 1869 
of novelty, and the liking to do as other people are doing, 
have no doubt exerted in gaining for these ‘Ladies’ 
Lectures” greater popularity, and a larger share of public 
attention than they would otherwise have obtained,—we 
believe that their rapid spread, and the success which has 
so far attended them, are mainly due to a serious effort 
on the part of the women of this country to improve their 
intellectual condition, coupled with the conviction of the 
inefficiency of the facilities for mental culture that have 
been hitherto open to them. 
An explanation of the appearance just now of such efforts 
and convictions must be sought for among those facts 
of our present social condition which are making the 
Woman’s Question in all its aspects one of the foremost 
problems of the time. It is obvious enough what some 
of these facts are, but we should have little confidence in 
an attempt to enumerate them all, and to estimate exactly 
their relative importance. But without undertaking to 
explain fully the movement under discussion, we think 
there are evident signs that it is a natural and spontaneous 
outcome of existing social and intellectual conditions, and 
not the result of artificial stimulus. If this view-is correct, 
it is obvious that the importance of the movement must 
be judged of rather by what it indicates than by what it 
is,—by future results that may be hoped for, rather than 
by successes already achieved. Looked at in this way, it 
claims the serious attention and support of every one who 
desires the intellectual advance of the community, in 
order that the present opportunity may be turned to 
advantage, and that efficient plans of future action may 
be founded on the experiments now being tried with more 
or less of what must necessarily be temporary enthusiasm. 
We venture to assume that in this, as in most other 
cases, the first condition of permanent success is that the 
object aimed at should be one in which it is worth while 
to succeed. If both lecturers and students are in earnest 
in trying to make these lectures really educational and 
serious, they cannot fail of producing valuable results. 
But this will require a good deal of determination on 
both sides. The most obvious, and perhaps the most 
serious, danger besetting the teachers, is the temptation— 
arising from an unconscious want of respect for their 
audience—to make their lectures z/eresting, instead of 
trying to impart the greatest possible amount of solid 
instruction. We confess that one or two very attractive- 
looking programmes that we have seen have suggested 
the thought, that possibly the lectures they announced 
might be equally well described as essays, such as con- 
stitute the more thoughtful kind of magazine articles ; 
and that, if this were the case, it was not obvious what 
greater advantage would arise from their author reading 
them aloud to an assemblage of ladies than would result 
if the same ladies could be induced to read them to them- 
selves at home. 
But, though we have no reason to believe that such a 
criticism would be really applicable to any of the actual 
courses, it is none the less desirable that all concerned 
should be on their guard against the tendency for it to 
become so. Thorough teaching, and not entertainment, of 
however high a kind, is what we trust that every lecturer 
will strive to give, and every student to obtain. And, after 
all, the spirit and quality of these lectures will depend as 
much on the students as on the teachers. No doubta 
thoroughly earnest teacher may do a good deal towards 
producing earnest pupils ; but, in the long run, the kind 
of instruction given will be that for which there is a 
demand. Ladies who intend to join any of the classes 
now forming will not expect to get any benefit from them, 
unless they give up for them all other engagements, at 
least so far as to be able to attend with regularity. If 
they only go to the lectures when in want of other occu- 
pation, they had better not go at all. Moreover, we have 
not much faith in the educational value,—at any rate for 
residents in London,—of courses in which only one lecture 
is given ina week. There are few persons who can keep 
up any vivid interest in a subject which occupies their 
thoughts for only one hour a week ; and we imagine that 
ladies, who are unwilling to spare the time for two lectures 
a week on a subject which they wish to study, will scarcely 
be found among the number. 
In conclusion, we may remind our readers of two sets 
of lectures to ladies which begin this week in London: 
one of them at the South Kensington Museum, and 
the other, by Professors of University College, partly at 
St. George’s Hall, Langham Place, and partly at University 
College. We heartily wish success to them all, and urge 
all our readers to do what they can to promote it. 
GEOLOGY AND AGRICULTURE 
HEN man penetrated into Western Europe and 
Britain, he found the country clothed with dense 
forests interspersed with fresh-water lakes, peat-mosses, 
and bogs, relieved by few open glades, heaths, or moors. 
The native rocks could only be seen here and there, in 
crags and escarpments, sea-cliffs, river-banks, or mountain- 
heights ; whilst herds of wild cattle, deer, and lesser game 
occupied the country, and afforded food to numerous 
beasts of prey. 
In such a country, at first thinly populated, man could 
subsist by the chase alone, and a long period elapsed ere he 
added, first the horned sheep, and then the Bos longéfrois, 
to his earliest domesticated animal, the dog, and thus 
entered on the pastoral stage of his existence. 
The shepherd’s life, however, although a great step in 
advance of that of the hunter, necessitates wandering 
from one point to another in search of fresh pasturage 
or water. The early shepherd was a nomad, while 
agriculture proper necessarily dates from the period of 
fixed residence ; for, even admitting that early man might 
clear for himself—if not with his axe of stone, at least 
by the aid of fire—a tract of land suited for the growth of 
cereals, yet he would hardly toil for even such scanty 
return as he could gather from his little patch of corn, 
unless he had some kind of fixed habitation, and a 
recognised right of occupation. 
In Britain the art of agriculture, and indeed of all the 
arts of civilisation, really commenced with the Roman 
occupation, but the Saxons and Danes who followed, 
though doubtless good soldiers, sailors, and fishermen, 
were scarcely less barbarous than the early Britons, and 
no advance was made in agricultural pursuits until after 
the introduction of Christianity, the members of the 
religious establishments, once so numerous, and into 
whose hands most of the landed property passed, having 
done much to improve the cultivation of land. 
