Oxford and Cambridge in particular have, indeed, been quite run upon from Victoria, and those two venerable mothers of English university life can already command in and of that colony quite a small legion of their alumni—­the Clarkes and “Loddon” Campbells, the Finlays and “Colac” Robertsons, the Websters and Westbys and Wilsons, who are now the young or the still vigorous life of their colony.  If some few of these have remained permanently at Home, or if they pleasantly alternate their domicile by such facile means as the marvels of modern inter-communication afford them, yet all of them help, in more or less degree, to strengthen that tie between the mother and her adventurous colonial offspring which we must hope is never to be broken.

I have the less need to expand further this inspiring section of my subject, seeing that I have been anticipated to some extent by a brother author, who, under the pseudonym of “Rolf Boldrewood,” has presented to us, in lively and fitting style, a most charming picture of early colonial life, its pleasant hospitalities, plus the Attic salt of no small proportion of the bounteous tables.  The disguise of name is not difficult to penetrate.  The author’s father, residing in his pretty place at Heidelberg, whose genial sun-browned face I pleasantly recall, was well known to me, as well, indeed, as to every other early colonist.  His son’s book has been my pleasant companion as I write up daily my “Recollections” in the little cabin of the good s.s.  “Coptic”, more especially as we both traversed much the same ground, and during the same interesting early time, in Western Victoria.

“Government house.”

“Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice
To change true rules for odd inventions.” 
—­Taming of the Shrew.

But perfection is never to be expected in human nature, and accordingly some decided drawbacks were, reasonably I think, chargeable to this “good society” which, as I have just said, had beneficially helped the dawning colony.  There was a tendency to separate from, and rather hold in undue depreciation, the trading and toiling masses who mainly made the country.  This tendency was fostered in the pre-representative days, when there were no political institutions to bring the mass of plain but prosperous society to the front.  Of course, when these times came, the game was soon up.  But, while the preceding era lasted, a somewhat invidious “aristocracy” gathered around the authorities, the mutual instincts, born of the situation, inclining them to each other.  This united party got the name of “Government House.”  It included most of the highly educated, to whom it was a tempting status, and most of the squatting Crown tenants, whether highly educated or otherwise; and it was cordially open to “presentable” colonists in general, who, holding its views—­of course a sine qua non—­were willing to enter it.  The views were decidedly “pronounced,”