x maze,
And Nature's laws are most despotic.
Vice is not killed by kindly craze.
Nor suffering quelled by zeal Quixotic.
Big questions the Big Scheme beset.
Bid Pity _think_, and do not ask it
Too blindly all its eggs to get
In one huge basket.

Philanthropy, which facts will school,
Is not a theme for mocking merriment.
As MORLEY says, he is the fool
Who never ventures bold experiment.
Against the ills our State that shake,
The spectre Vice, Want the pale ogress,
_Punch_ hopes the Magic Horse may make
Practical progress.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, MARK, BUT I CAN'T HIT A BIRD
TO-DAY!"

"LET'S SEE YOUR GUN, SIR. AH!--WELL, I'D TRY WHAT YOU COULD DO _WITH
SOME CARTRIDGES IN IT_, IF I WAS YOU, SIR!"]

* * * * *

RIGHT-DOING ON THE RIALTO;

OR, THE MODERN SHYLOCK.

(_A SHORT SHAKESPEARIAN SEQUEL._)

_Enter the_ MODERN SHYLOCK _and_ BARINGO BROTHERS.

_Shylock_. Five Millions sterling for three months? And this
You say, they will advance, if you can show
Sufficient guarantee?

_Baringo_. Indeed 'tis so.

_Shy._ Well, well! But how comes it about that you
Whose honoured name has so long held the sway
Of all safe dealing, that men only asked,
"If a BARINGO backed it," to take up
Unquestioning the newest stock,--should thus
With sudden flash flare up and set in blaze
The whole commercial world?

_Bar._ Oh! press me not,
Nor question me too closely! "_Argentines_!"
That fatal word sums up the evil spell
That in these latter luckless days has fallen
Upon our swaying House.

_Shy._ I see your case!
A cry for gold finds you all unprepared,
Your capital locked up beyond the seas.
You cannot realise.

_Bar._ Alas! too true!
That is the situation!

_Shy._ Badly done!
Ah! it has been a sorry piece of work,
Your "management."

_Bar._ I bow my head to that!
But you will lend your aid? You'll pull us through?

_Shy._ Listen, BARINGO. Many a time and oft
In this English land men have rated me
About my moneys and my usuries.
But that is long ago; the times have changed,
And feeling in more righteous channel set,
Now turns itself in flood to sweep away
The wrongs of vanished years. Nay, more than this.
But yesterday one of my ancient race,
Filled, with his C