to be able to tell the difference between the two
conditions. To this retorted Barrister number
two, that if he did occasionally "take a drop",
he did not go rolling about from its effects, as
some other people did. Thereupon Barrister
number two asked if the insinuation were directed
at him; to which Barrister number one replied
that of course it was. Barrister number two
then declared that Barrister number one was a
liar; and Barrister number two, repelling the
assertion with his fist, Barrister number one
threw his hat at his learned friend. It missed
him, however, and there the matter seems to have
ended—at any rate, as far as the proceedings in
court were concerned.

All this sounds disgraceful; but we are
inclined to take a more charitable view of it, and
to consider it only colonial. So far from the
majority of men changing their nature with their
sky when they cross the ocean, our experience
points directly to the belief that they only
intensify that nature, and render it more
peculiarly and entirely their own. In Australia
the word colonial is continually used by the
rougher class of settlers to express force and
convey emphasis. If a digger wants to be
particularly positive in an assertion, he says, "I'll
take my colonial oath of it". His friend who
has imbibed too freely, he will describe as "in a
colonial state of beer". As an expression of
endearment, he will call the same friend "a good
old colonial fellow", and it is by no means
certain that "yours colonially" will not be his form
of concluding a letter, if he happen to be able to
write one.

Here is a specimen of the domestic style of
joke:

"ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES ABOUT TO MARRY.

"Do. But if your husband that is to be, is
given to gambling, let it be a condition precedent
to the marriage that he shall give it up;
and when you put the announcement of your
nuptials in the paper, add, for the information
of your bachelor acquaintance, the significant
words, 'No cards.' The late Miss—— adopted
this ingenious course many weeks ago, and the
happy bridegroom so far has not suggested even
whist,"

A very good illustration of the social status of
some of the local senators is afforded by a sketch
of a scene at a railway station. A gentleman
(more or less) is standing on the platform,
and talking through the window to a lady (more
or less) who is seated in a second-class
carriage.

"Where is the good man this morning?" asks
the outsider.

To which the insider replies:

"Oh, you know he's a member of parliament,
and has a free pass; so he travels first class".

The members of parliament, under a recent
administration, were allowed—that is to say,
they allowed themselves, by an act passed for
the purpose—the annual stipend of three hundred
pounds. But the arrangement was abandoned,
as it was found that the position of a legislator
became a great deal more attractive than was
consistent with political purity, to say nothing
of the public welfare, and that the persons whom
it principally attracted were exactly the very
worst men who could be found for the work.

Everybody who has experienced it describes up
country life as the dreariest of dreary inflictions:
fully justifying the policy of those who prefer the
bird in the hand to the two which may possibly
be awaiting them in "the Bush". If the state of
society be anything like that pictured in our
contemporary, it deserves all that its worst
enemies can say of it. Three men in beards and
boots, and garments something more than
outlandish, are smoking their pipes round a fire in a
rude hut, and they hold the following political
discussion.

"FIRST PASTORAL PARTY (after half an hour's
silent smoking).—Well, they may say what they
like in the Eastern Market, but when we are
wanted we're all there.

"SECOND DITTO DITTO.—We are so, my word!

"THIRD DITTO DITTO.—No fear."

(Another half hour's silence ensues.)

At Melbourne, to judge from the accounts
of travellers, and more especially from the indications
afforded by the local satirist, we should
suppose the state of society to be decidedly more
vivacious than most society in Europe. Punch—
which we may here observe is generally written
with good taste— makes more free with some
subjects than is usual in this country. Thus, we gather
from its pages that one of the members of the
government is about to appear in a divorce case, in
which he figures as a co-respondent. In England
such an occurrence would be treated with a
certain degree of gravity—if treated of at all—
even in a comic periodical. But the Melbourne
Punch makes merry on the subject, and gets as
much fun out of it as possible, not one of the
several squibs at the gentleman's expense blazing
up into anything like severity. That this
kind of levity represents the general tone of
society we do not suppose; but the inference is
that there is a class of readers to whom it is
acceptable. The social as well as the political
life of the colony has not been painted by most
travellers in very flattering colours; and the
somewhat unfavourable impression produced by
their pictures in this country is, we believe, not
quite a fair one. The latest work concerning
Australia, by an evidently conscientious and
candid writer, distinctly charges several
travellers with having formed hasty and careless
conclusions, and with having generalised too
much from individual characteristics. And the
author of Three Years at Melbourne is herself so
scrupulous in avoiding anything like startling
sensation-writing, that she has a high claim to be
accepted as an authority. It is obvious that the
value of a traveller's verdict depends entirely on
the opportunities for collecting evidence which
such traveller has enjoyed. We complain of