and another at the corner of Collins and
Market-streets—now among the busiest
spots in Melbourne. He built a brick hotel
(the first brick house in the settlement), in
the last-named locality, and supplied his
guests with a good library as well as a
good stock of English newspapers, then a
rare luxury in the infant colony. He next
set up a little newspaper. It was no easy
matter to print it; but he bought a small
parcel of refuse type at Launceston, and
engaged a youth who had had a few months'
practice as a compositor. In 1839, he
replaced the Advertiser (the venturesome
little paper was so called) by the more
majestic Port Philip Patriot.

For thirty years longer did this remarkable
and energetic man help to advance,
not only his own interests, but those of
the city of Melbourne, and the colony
of Victoria (which the Port Philip district
was empowered to become.) He bought
eight hundred acres at a spot which
he named Pascoe Vale; then he
converted the Patriot into a daily paper;
then he established a large sheep station;
then he grew grapes and became a
winemaker; then he established a land-society,
which has proved a great success; then he
bravely took part in the movement which
prevented the continuance of transportation
to the Australian colonies; then he became
a member of the legislative council; then
he was instrumental in developing the
gold industry. Since that time, in the upper
chamber (the House of Lords of the colony),
"the absence of the president himself would
not have seemed more strange than that of
the velvet skull-cap and the old-fashioned
blue cloak in which Mr. Fawkner was wont
to sit."

It was natural and fitting that the
colonists regarded as a public ceremonial the
funeral of Pascoe Fawkner on the 8th of
September last.

PARAPHRASES FROM "GALLUS."
THE verses paraphrased below, though generally to
be found in collections of the "Poems attributed to
Gallus," are also printed among the fragments of the
Satyrion. The first of these little poems must undoubtedly
have suggested Ben Jonson's song in the Silent
Woman, beginning:

                  "Still to be neat, still to be drest,
                     As you were going to a feast," &c.,

Ben Jonson's own paraphrases prove that he read
Petronius.

SEMPER MUNDITIAS, SEMPER, BASSILESSA, DECORES.

   Dress, at all hours arrange I with studious care
     O Bassilessa, and adornment nice,
   Locks, at all hours, of never-wandering hair
     Sleek'd by solicitous comb to curls precise,
   Delight not me: but unconstrain'd attire.
     And she whose beauty doth itself neglect.
    Free are her floating locks: nor need she have
     Colours or odours, who, herself, it deckt
    In natural loveliness—a living flower!
     Ever to feign, in order to be loved,
    Is never to confide in love. The power
     Of beauty, best in simplest garb is proved.

EPITAPH ON DYONISIA.

Here doth Dyonisia lie.
She, whose little wanton foot
Tripping (ah! too carelessly!)
Toucht this tomb, and fell into 't.

Trip no more shall she, nor fall.
And her trippings were so few!
Summers only eight in all
Had the sweet child wander'd through.

But, already, life's few suns
Love's strong seed had ripen'd warm.
All her ways were winning ones:
All her cunning was to charm.

And the fancy, in the flower,
While the flesh was in the bud
Childhood's dawning sex did dower
With warm gusts of womanhood.

O what joys by hope begun,
O what kisses kist by thought,
What love-deeds by fancy done,
Death to deedless dust hath wrought

Had the Fates been kind as thou,
Who, till now, was never cold,
Once Love's aptest scholar, now
Thou hadst been his teacher bold:

But, if buried seeds upthrow
Fruits and flowers; if flower and fruit
By their nature fitly show
What the seeds are, whence they shoot,

Dyonisia, o'er this tomb,
Where thy buried beauties be,
From their dust shall spring and bloom
Loves and graces like to thee.

NEW LIGHT ON AN OLD SUBJECT.

FOUR hundred and twenty years ago,
there suddenly appeared on the stage of
public events in England, a remarkable
man, with a great name, a great cause,
a great purpose, and a great following.
His real name was said to be John Cade.
His assumed name was John Mortimer.
He claimed to be a scion of the royal House
of Plantagenet, and first cousin to Richard,
Duke of York—he of the White Rose—
whose quarrel with the Red Rose kept
England in a turmoil of civil war for more
than a quarter of a century. This personage,
a great reformer in his day, popularly known
as the Captain of Kent, and "John Amend-
All," has received but sorry treatment at
the hands of history, while at the hands
of poetry, as represented by Shakespeare,
or whoever was the real author of the
three historical plays of Henry the Sixth, of
which Shakespeare was the reviser and
adapter, he has received very great
injustice. Had he been left to history alone,