He's hopeless of heaven, he's too bad for ----, (So say Unionist bards, and they ought to know well,) He is JUDAS-cum-CAIN with a _soupçon_ of OATES, An imperious despot, who grovels for votes; A mean truckling tyrant, an autocrat slave; A Knave who plays King, and a King who plays Knave. A haughty Commander, the tool of his troops, A swayer of "items," nose-led by his dupes; A Dog-despot, wagged by the tip of his tail, A Conspirator potent, whose plot's bound to fail; The land's greatest danger, because such a dolt; As ruler a scourge, because breeding revolt; As political guide ever banefully strong, Because the majority sees he is wrong. A prolix _Polonius_ who proves his senility By taking the shine out of youth and ability: A veteran lagging superfluous, whose age Puts him "out of it" so, that he fills the whole stage: So old that his age gives him every claim, Save to decent respect, which, of course, is a shame, And absurd "fetish-worship." As Lucifer proud And imperious, yet supple of knee to the crowd; A CORIOLANUS who plays the JACK CADE; A coward of nothing and no one afraid; A blundering batsman whom none can bowl out; A craven who staggers opponents most stout; A traitor who gives his whole life to the State, Whose zeal proves his spite, and his service his hate. A truckler to treason and trickster for place, Whose stubbornness oft throws him out of the race; A lover of power and public applause, Who dares to oppose the most popular cause. A talkative sophist who will _not_ explain; A bad-tempered man, ever bland and urbane: A casuist no one can half understand, But whose sinister purpose is plain as your hand; A vituperative and venomous foe, Whose speeches with calm magnanimity glow. In short, an old dolt, who inflicts dire defeat On the smartest young foes he can manage to meet; A powerless provoker of dreadful disasters, A master of slaves whose mere slaves are his masters; A voluble sphinx, and a simple chimæra The Age's conundrum, the _crux_ of his æra! _Mem._: If you can't give a guess at the theme of these rhymes, Why, peruse all the papers, and move with the times! * * * * * AUSTRALIA THE (WITHOUT) GOLDEN. DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I see that, with a view to economy, the Victorian Legislature have cut down the salary of their future Governors to a reasonable sum. Every one will applaud an act inspired by so worthy a motive. Still, as the officials who have been thus deprived of some of their emoluments have a certain state to keep up, I think it would be only fair were that state also to undergo revision. With a view to assisting in so desirable a programme, I jot down a few suggestions.