IN THE POLITICAL GRAVEYARD.

Otago Witness, Issue 1387, 29 June 1878, Page 19

IN THE POLITICAL GRAVEYARD.

All our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. — Shakespeare.

Pleasantly situated in the centre of the island, in fact quite a gay looking place for so grave an institution, is the resting place of New Zealand's mighty dead (says the New Zealander). The last homes of those truly great men who strutted their little hour upon the political stage, and then departed, leaving behind them footprints upon the sands of time that it will take the tide of public affairs a long time to obliterate or even tone down to indistinctness. Not altogether unmourned are these stern patriots who, unable to obtain the high places they sought, are content to accept the common lot and ordinary level. Gratoful constituencies have erected tablets to their memory, and posterity will have a fair chance for judging clearly of the honorable service rendered by the dear departed. A perusal of the various epitaphs convinced me that the merits of those lying beneath were truthfully blazoned on the monumental marble that marks their resting places, and to prove the correctness of this, my opinion, I furnish specimens chosen at random from amongst the tomb 3. On one prominent among the many — a pure white marble slab — appears a garland of thistlea and oats encircling the well-known loyal adage, " Bless the Duke of Argyle," and beneath this is the following pathetic appeal : —

"o'er a bruised reed." " Kind traveller, drop a tear for Tonald's sake, Whose patriotism pure can't be denied, Who fell a victim to one Bad mistake-

He left the winning for the losing side. This fatal error Melancholy's child Affixed a period to a bright career, For from that hour ' Our Tonald ' never smiled, And one short twelvemonth brought him to his

Some irreverent wretch has upon the stone endeavoured to make the last word of this cbitual dedication "Beer" — an unqualified insult to the mighty man commemorated, who in life always persistently entertained a great aversion to Stout.

Upon a tomb of less pretensions, decorated by a simple wreath of shamrocks — that form a pleasing contrast to the real rocks that surround the place — I noted the following tribute to the Bound of common sense of a defunct representative :—: — " Arrah ! boy.i, it's very sartin, Beneath this stone lies little Martin Of mind divided — by me sowl, Between ' Grey interest ' and ' Grey coal,' Who proved himself a thorough Ginral

By sticking closely to the minral."

Beneath this appears the motto "Faugh-a-Ballagh," an appropriate compliment to the strenuous endeavours of the deceased to obtain grants for roads and harbour works in the district he represented.

A little to the southward of this memorative stone I came across the restingplace of one whose virtues were thus recorded : —

" This marble shields from cares of State, Ona who once promised to be great, But wanted that determination. Essential in a public station. From Government benches loosed his hold, He froze 'mid Opposition cold ; Till Death from old Time's coat did tear, A Button much the worse for wear."

Passing on, in the southernmost corner of the graveyard, I happened on the following "owre true" inscription upon one who in life was evidently better known than loved :—: — This, passer, is a patriot's grave, Who died because he could not save From honest men a misruled country ; Mourn not his worth, but his effrontery. From public wheat a winnowed husk, Is all that's left of H. H. Lu— .

The latter portion of the name was erased, and, wondering who he could have been whose clay deserved such censure, I wandered musingly from the political graveyard, and moved onc6 more amid the haunta of men.