Not a lot of science in this: it's more of a note to file, proof that I haven't fallen off my perch.

As I think I have already noted, I am deep in a series of Young Adult historical fiction with a scientific bias, set in Australia in the period 1852 to 1864. I am working hard at getting a sense for the era across, within a series of adventures. That means showing how ordinary Australians fared and thought.

Along with most decent Australians who know their Australian history, I have a deep contempt for the 'boy commissioners'. These were the 19th century whey-faced poltroons and loons, the discards of the British aristocracy, adjudged incompetent by their peers, pun intended, who, from having been born to rule, were judged well-suited for the colonies, like Hilaire Belloc's Lord Lundy, who was dressed down by his grandsire, the Duke, thusly:

"Sir! you have disappointed us!
We had intended you to be
The next Prime Minister but three:
The stocks were sold; the Press was squared:
The Middle Class was quite prepared.
But as it is! . . . My language fails!
Go out and govern New South Wales!"

Far be it from me to draw any parallels with members of the Royal Family who seek to become Governor-General of Australia, using Australia as crash-test dummies while they learn how to be a figurehead!

I think I may have acquired this attitude from reading Manning Clark, but imagine my surprise, recently, to find Clark praising one of these normally chinless, witless, gormless types when, at the age of 21, he told Governor Latrobe how to sort the problems being encountered on the gold fields at Bendigo.

So as one does, I turned to the Australian Dictionary of Biography to learn more of Joseph Anderson Panton. I found him at http://adbonline.anu.edu.au/biogs/A050451b.htm and made the most amazing discovery: the way in which he was selected for his post, and here we have his own account.

The man stood "A good deal over six feet", and apparently was solid as well. When he applied for a post as an officer on the Gold Escort, La Trobe examined him.

'The Lieutenant-Governor looked me up and down, and then remarked jocularly "This fellow seems too big for a trooper. Too heavy. It would be too severe on the horses. I think he would make a Commissioner".'

Is this the reverse of the Tall Poppy syndrome?