Mighty-voiced MILTON, whose unmurmuring song Rolls yet in organ tones round his loved land, Its saddest strain, with high endurance grand, Unconquerably serene, sublimely strong; Sing in our Statesman's ears! Great HOMER, long His "friend, in youth, in manhood, and in age," Let thy charmed splendours, and thy counsels sage, Calm his large energies to fine content. Be MILTON'S patience his! "God doth not need Either man's work, or his own gifts"--so rang The heroic high reply. But the whole State Wishes its tireless servitor "God speed!" Light in his darkness, hope to illume his rest! "They also serve who only stand and wait." * * * * * [Illustration: "FOR EXAMPLE!" JOE CH-MB-RL-N. "_I_ SHOULD RECONSTRUCT THE HOUSE OF LORDS ACCORDING TO SOME ELECTIVE AND NON-HEREDITARY PLAN----." (_Leeds, September 25._)] * * * * * AIRS RESUMPTIVE. IV.--TO JULIA IN SHOOTING TOGS (_and a Herrickose vein_). Whenas to shoot my JULIA goes, Then, then, (methinks) how bravely shows That rare arrangement of her clothes! So shod as when the Huntress Maid With thumping buskin bruised the glade, She moveth, making earth afraid. Against the sting of random chaff Her leathern gaiters circle half The arduous crescent of her calf. Unto th' occasion timely fit, My love's attire doth show her wit, And of her legs a little bit. Sorely it sticketh in my throat, She having nowhere to bestow't, To name the absent petticoat. In lieu whereof a wanton pair Of knickerbockers she doth wear, Full windy and with space to spare. Enlargèd by the bellying breeze, Lord! how they playfully do ease The urgent knocking of her knees! Lengthways curtailèd to her taste A tunic circumvents her waist, And soothly it is passing chaste. Upon her head she hath a gear Even such as wights of ruddy cheer Do use in stalking of the deer. Haply her truant tresses mock Some coronal of shapelier block, To wit, the bounding billy-cock. Withal she hath a loaded gun, Whereat the pheasants, as they run, Do make a fair diversiòn. For very awe, if so she shoots, My hair upriseth from the roots, And lo! I tremble in my boots! * * * * * A SAFE PREDICTION.--That the New Woman of this decade will be the Old Maid of the next. * * * * * [Illustration: STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE. THE OSTRICH AS SHE OUGHT TO BE.] * * * * * THE SEVEN AGES OF ROSEBERY. [Mr. ST. LOE STRACHEY has written an article in the _Nineteenth Century_, entitled, "The Seven Lord Roseberies."]