SIX LETTERS FROM
THE COLONIES.
By R. C. SEATON.
HULL: WILDRIDGE & CO.
MDCCCLXXXVI.
PREFACE.
was absent from England eleven months, from November, 1884, to October, 1885. The first three of these Letters are reprinted, with slight alterations, from the Eastern Morning News. The last three were written after my return to England. As I have not cared to keep up the fiction of having written them from Australia, they may contain some references to events subsequent to my return. It is often objected, and truly enough, that travellers, who spend only so short a time as I have in fresh countries, are not justified in expressing deliberate opinions about them; but this does not apply where a writer gives his impressions as such, and not as matured opinions, or where he expresses the opinions of other people who, by long residence or otherwise in a particular country, have had every opportunity of forming them. I think it will not be found that I have offended in this particular.
London,
October, 1886.
CONTENTS.
I.
The Voyage of the Hampshire.
Voyage to Australia has in these days become so ordinary an affair that it may seem to require an apology to attempt to describe one, but a voyage in a sailing ship is so different from that in a steamer that it may interest some people. It is, as a rule, only those who go abroad for their health who prefer a sailing ship, on account of the great length of the voyage, in allusion to which steam people call sailing ships "wind jammers," while the sailors retort on steamers by dubbing them "iron tanks" and "old coffins." There is no doubt that the picturesqueness of a sea voyage is quite destroyed by a steamer. There are no, or very few, regular sailors on board; so much of the work is now done by steam. There are no "chanties" or sailors' songs, which help the work to go easily. In a steamer there is no interest in noting the course—they go straight on, and the distance covered does not vary, or only slightly, from day to day. The movement of a sailing ship through the water at 12 knots per hour is quite exhilarating; the ship hurries on by "leaps and bounds." Contrast with this the labouring plunges of a screw-steamer at the same rate. In short, romance is perishing from the sea with the universal invasion of steam. Could the poet have thus written of the Pirate—
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,"
if the Pirate was master of a steamer? I think not. However, I do not deny that a steamer has many and great advantages over a ship. The chief advantage, and the only one to which I need allude, is the prosaic but not unimportant one of better food, and this with many people would decide in favour of a steamer. Perhaps we were exceptionally unfortunate in this respect. The Hampshire is a barque of 1,100 tons, and belonging to Captain Hosack, of Liverpool. She is most commodious; the cabins are much larger than is usual in a vessel of this size. Mine was not a large one, but it measured 8ft. by 10ft. 6in. There is, too, a poop deck 70ft. long, which is scarcely ever touched, even by a heavy sea. When people are constantly in each other's society for so long they gradually throw off many of the artificial restraints of society, and exhibit themselves as they would in their own homes. The result is curious. A constant process of natural selection goes on, by which like seeks like, and the estimation in which a particular person is held by his fellow-passengers is often very different at the close of the voyage from what it was at the beginning. Taking all things into consideration, however, I think the saloon passengers on the Hampshire must be considered to have borne the ordeal very well. We were 24 in number—rather too many for comfort—all (with two exceptions) young men, going out to the colonies for various reasons—some for health, some for business. The two exceptions were a Canon of the Church of England and his wife, and another gentleman who was travelling with his nephew. The Canoness was the only lady on board, the result of which probably was that, though the civilising influence imparted by the presence of ladies was lost, yet many jealousies, that might have been thereby occasioned, were avoided.
The Hampshire left the East India Dock early on Thursday morning, the 27th November, commanded by Captain John Mathias. She was towed as far as Beachy Head, but laid up at Deal during the night. At St. Alban's Head we parted with the pilot. On the Monday we left the Lizard behind. The next ten days were the most unpleasant of the whole voyage. We were tossed about in the Bay of Biscay, making scarcely any progress. One day we even made 16 miles leeway. It was, perhaps, well that this happened so early on, as all seasickness was thus comfortably got over. Since that time the weather may be shortly dismissed. Captain Mathias, the officers, and crew all declare they have never had so fine a voyage to Australia. For days and days the sea was only slightly ruffled, and hardly any motion could be felt. Of course, one result has been that we had a long passage. We were exactly 100 days from dock to dock, or 96 days from the Lizard to
The Canon was an adept at shorthand, and a class was formed on board of 12 of the saloon passengers, who prosecuted it most vigorously, and really made much progress. An examination was held at the end of the course of lessons, and prizes awarded. Several entertainments—musical and dramatic—were given, nearly all of which proved successful, the very causes of failure on land being often at sea the cause of success. The prompter was, I remember, on one occasion much more audible than the actor. Another time the stage (the main deck) was flooded with sea water, which increased rather than diminished with every roll. A chorus of youths and maidens endeavouring to sing and keep their balance is amusing if not æsthetic. Everything, in fact, suffers a "sea change," if not into something "rich and strange," often into something expensive. The first time a passenger ventures on the forecastle or up the rigging—the peculiar realms of the sailor—Jack chalks him, which means that he must pay his footing, by sending a bottle of whisky for'ard. It is seldom that a stranger long escapes "spotting" under these circumstances. As a curiosity I may mention that one passenger paid 8s. for a few things being washed; this was at the moderate price of 6d. each article, no matter whether it was a collar or a shirt. I should strongly advise anyone going a long voyage to take a spirit lamp, as it is often difficult to get hot water unless the thirst of the cook is constantly allayed. Deck shoes are very convenient, more especially in the tropics, where one leads a lotus-eating existence. This is the most delightful part of the voyage in my opinion, though some prefer the more bracing air of the Southern Ocean. Without being malicious, however, it is difficult not to fancy that the pleasure of finding midsummer weather in January is heightened by the contrast with London fogs and frost, which we know those at home are suffering from. The greatest resource of all is reading, and some of us get through a good deal of it, but it is too tempting, and often interferes with taking regular exercise, which, though irksome, is almost essential to good health at sea.
Christmas Day seemed strange enough. The orthodox fare—turkey and plum-pudding—were on the table, but ice would have been an agreeable addition. The toasts drunk were "The Queen," "The Captain," and "Absent Friends." The next day, as we had then been a month at sea, the sailors "buried the dead horse." As they receive a month's wages in advance, they do not begin to earn anything until they have been a month at sea. During this period they are said to be "working off the dead horse." A barrel covered with matting formed the body, and appendages for the requisite number of legs and the tail were put on. The animal was then dragged round the deck to the accompaniment of a melancholy song—the refrain of which is "poor old horse." The horse is next put up for sale, and on the present occasion was knocked down to one of the saloon passengers for 16s. The money was not really paid, but a collection was made which came to more than the sum bid. Next, amid the lamentations of the sailors and the glare of blue lights, the animal was hoisted up to the main-yard with a sailor on its back, who, dexterously disengaging himself, let the beast fall with a dull thud into the water. The sea was so calm that some apprehension was expressed lest the carcass should be seen the next morning not far to leeward, but this anti-climax was averted. We have all read of the coming on board of Neptune at the time of crossing the line, but on our voyage no notice was taken of it, the reason being, as was supposed, that the sailors were dissatisfied with the result of the sale of the dead horse. Well, though it might have been amusing, it was doubtless more their loss than ours, because when the thing is analysed, all sailors' doings fundamentally resolve themselves into an appeal for subscriptions from good-natured passengers. About 15th January we crossed the sun, which for a short time was vertical at noon. Peter Schlemihl could then have walked about without detection, for no one had a shadow.
On our journey we met several ships and steamers, and as the captain never missed an opportunity of signalling, the course of our voyage was known
I must say we were badly treated by the "monsters of the deep." They never came out when wanted. We all expected to catch a shark some day, but only once was one even seen, and then it was some distance off, with its knife-like fin just showing above the water. It was Sunday, too, when no fishing was allowed—a fact of which he was evidently aware. These fellows are proverbially stupid, and will go at a bait again and again, even though they must know it to be a lure. Only once, too, did we catch an albatross, the bird of the Southern Ocean. That was by a line baited with a small piece of pork. This was fastened to a round ring of iron, in which the hooked beak of the bird caught, and so it was dragged on board. The captain knocked it on the head, and it was then cut up. It measured 13 feet across the wings, but many are larger than this. The beak was about 6 inches long, curved, and of great power. Sailors have no "ancient mariner" sentiment as to killing the albatross—in fact, it would be misplaced. The captain told us of a case he knew of where a man had fallen overboard, when the albatrosses swooped down upon him, and pecked out his eyes and brains. The sailors begged the captain to shoot him and so end his sufferings. The quills of the albatross make excellent pipe stems, and the skin of the webbed feet is used for tobacco pouches. But the chief thing about the bird is, of course, the snowy down on the breast, of which ladies' muffs are made. The Zoological Society in Regent's Park offer a reward of £100 for a live albatross or black cockatoo, but it has never been earned, though the attempt to carry them to England has often been made, for the albatross cannot live through the tropics.
During the last fortnight of the voyage the weather became very cold for the latitude we were in. The point reached furthest south was 42° 42' which is about the same as the north of Spain, but the thermometer was 49 degrees all day. It is, however, well known that for various reasons the same latitude is much colder south of the equator. On the night of Monday, the 2nd of March, a beautiful lunar rainbow, extending right across the sky, was seen. This is not a common sight. By this time the benefits of the voyage were visible in the faces of all the passengers. If it had not been for some shortcomings in the provisions there would have been no drawback. Cape Otway was sighted on the morning of Saturday, the 7th March. At 4-30 p.m. we were off Port Philip Roads, and here the pilot came on board. He brought papers, and the first news we read was that of subscriptions for a statue to General Gordon, of whose death we were thus informed; the second news was the despatch of troops from Sydney to the Soudan, of which everybody was then talking. At 10-30 p.m. the Hampshire was anchored off Williamstown, but could not come alongside Sandridge Pier, till Monday morning. It was rather hard getting up on a Saturday night, as all were anxious to see their letters. Many of us went to Melbourne on the Sunday, but in most cases returned to the ship to sleep, as the luggage could not be landed till Monday. On that day a general dispersion took place, and many who will probably never see each other again will have their voyage on the Hampshire to look back upon with pleasure.
II.
Melbourne.
hen I arrived in Melbourne early in March, everybody was enthusiastic in praise of the New South Wales Government, who had just despatched their contingent to the Soudan. Gradually this feeling subsided, and it was afterwards said to be doubtful whether the Victorian Government would renew their offer later on. The truth is the Victorians are plus royalistes que le roi. Indeed I cannot help thinking they would feel much less respect for the "British Constitution" if they had a nearer view of some of the proceedings at Westminster. But they are human and can scarcely submit with patience to the repeated snubs they have had from the Home Government. The inconceivable bungling about New Guinea especially rankles in their breasts. No one is now so unpopular here as Mr. Gladstone and Lord Derby. Moreover, as a late Minister in South Australia said to me—Why should we send out our tradesmen, our artisans, our clerks, as volunteers, while you send out regular soldiers? We deplete the colony for what is in reality only a handful of men, while it means much to us. If we wish to assist the mother country we can do it better by taking care of our own defences, and by subscribing money, if necessary, to send to England. But this view, of course, leaves out of sight the immense moral effect which has, in fact, been produced by this display of attachment to the mother country. Such things will do more to bring about Imperial federation than any number of articles in newspapers and reviews discussing the merits of various schemes. If the true spirit is there—the desire for federation—it will put itself into practice in some form or other. The preliminary step is federation among the colonies. This is at present much hindered by their mutual jealousies. "The proper way," said to me a prominent statesman here who has been twice a Minister of the Crown, "is for England to take the initiative. Let her send out some leading man who would not be regarded as the representative of a party—such as Lord Dufferin—and let him make proposals to the various colonies in which they might acquiesce, without one seeming to lead the
In fact, in face of the nonsense that is sometimes talked to encourage those who fail in England to come here to make their fortunes, it seems to me they are far more likely to lose what money they have. As a rule the same qualities of mind and character that bring a man success in England will make him successful here, and for certain people it is better to stay in England. The class that really suffer in Melbourne is that comprising the man of good education, who has perhaps taken his degree at one of our Universities, but who has not any fitness for any particular calling. Numbers of this class are, I am told, in poverty, if not actual want. There is here not the same demand for "culture." There is no outlet for purely literary capacities. The life that is led here, and which will be led for some time yet, is a somewhat hard and fast life, and it is most difficult even for one who desires ease to find it in this feverish atmosphere. The country has scarcely yet settled down. Among the population there is little beauty of face or grace of movement. The first settlers were, as a rule, rough people who had to make their living, and little time to think of anything beyond, but we are indebted to them, for they are everywhere the necessary pioneers of civilisation—the mass whose dead bodies form a bridge for their more fortunate successors. Then the gold discoveries brought out a lower class. However, the second generation is a great improvement on the first, and, no doubt, the usual rule of amelioration of type will make itself felt in due course. In what I have just been saying I speak in the most general manner. There are many exceptions, of course, and brilliant ones. Now to return to Melbourne itself. The streets are very broad, usually 99 ft., and long and straight. One I know of is 100 yards broad. Some are planted with trees, while in the streets where there are shops, verandahs are almost universal along the pavement. The gutters are very wide—sometimes 5 feet or 6 feet, which is necessary to carry off the large amount of water coming down when it rains. At such times the mud is almost impassable. Melbourne proper is situated in the centre, and stands to the rest of the city somewhat as the City of London does to the various vestries. In Melbourne, however, each of the suburbs—15 in number—has a Mayor, Corporation, and Town Clerk of its own. Any municipality with a revenue of £25,000 or above, is styled a "city." There is, however, no body here like the Metropolitan Board of Works, consequently no united system of drainage and other works in which the whole community is interested. This is a great defect, and the want of some central authority is much felt. Each municipality manages its own district only. I remember, on landing the first time at Sandridge Pier, some of us drove from there into Melbourne. Someone complaining of the badness of the road to the driver, "Yes," he said pathetically, "they spend all the money in drainage."
In public buildings Melbourne can compare well with any other city of its size. The Public Library, the Law Courts, the Town Hall, the Post Office, the Exhibition building, are all architectural ornaments. In the streets there is a want of regularity in the size of the houses, which will be corrected in the course of time, and which is incidental to all new cities where people cannot at first afford to erect lofty structures. Most of the city is on the north side of the Yarra, which winds very much and empties itself into Hobson's Bay, about six miles from Melbourne. The intercolonial and local steamers start from wharves on the river, and passengers by them have, therefore, to endure the bad smells which always prevail. The Thames is bad enough sometimes, but the Yarra can only be compared to the Clyde at Glasgow. A large piece of the river will be cut off by a canal now in course of construction. Hobson's Bay is the north-eastern part of Port Philip Harbour, a noble expanse of water of 800 square miles, with a narrow entrance at the "Heads." There are sharks in it, so that bathing is carried on in parts that are fenced off. There used to be a reward offered by the Government for every shark-skin above 2ft. long. There is a tale of an old loafer round the Harbour called "Paddy Lynch," who having caught a shark of 1 ft. 11 in., stretched its skin the required inch. He is now commonly accosted by the question "Who stretched the shark?" The Public Library is probably one of the
I had an interesting conversation with the learned and accomplished Town Clerk of Melbourne (Mr. Fitzgibbon) upon the condition of the legal profession here. The two branches, barristers and solicitors, are not amalgamated, but the tendency, as in England, is in that direction. Indeed, in the last session of Parliament a bill to amalgamate them, after passing the Legislative Assembly, was only lost by one vote in the Upper House. Still, even in places where a fusion has taken place, as in Tasmania, I found that, in fact, they are kept distinct, that is to say one man will devote himself to speaking in court, another to office-work. Barristers here have a distinct grievance against the Inns of Court at home. Here an English barrister can be at once called to the Victorian Bar merely by being introduced, whereas in England a Victorian barrister has to keep terms and pass an examination. Formerly he was in no better position than any other student, but by the exertions of Mr. Webb, Q.C., of Melbourne, the time of probation has been reduced from three years to one year for colonial barristers, and the examination has, I believe, been diminished also. There is a Chief Justice (at present absent on leave) and four puisne judges. Lately a paper controversy has been raging between one of the judges and the Bishop. The judge wrote a pamphlet, entitled "Religion without Superstition"—a crude réchauffé of the usual sceptical arguments which have been propounded a thousand times before and infinitely better expressed. The Bishop has not found it difficult to reply, but at best this contest between two dignitaries is an unseemly spectacle. Meanwhile the newspapers sarcastically ask how it is that the judges, who are said to be so overworked, have time for such amusements. Religious feeling runs high in Melbourne. The Presbyterian assembly has recently deposed Mr. Strong, the minister of the Scotch church, on account of the breadth of his doctrines. Mr. Strong has been publicly invited by the Unitarian minister to join their communion. In the State schools there is no religious instruction except at extra times, and by express desire. This is due to the action of the Catholics, who naturally object to their children being taught the Bible by Protestants. About Melbourne there is nothing provincial, and, although in point of size far inferior to London or Paris it is almost as cosmopolitan. At night, Bourke-street is as crowded as the Strand or Regent-street. The chief hotels are Menzies's, Scott's, the Oriental, and the Grand. The two first are at the business end of the town, the west end, and they charge about 12s. per day. The Oriental is at the east end of Collins-street, exactly opposite the Melbourne club. The charge there is 10s. per day, and at present it is extremely well managed by the proprietor in person. The only objection is that it is much frequented by betting-men, whose shop talk is, I think, more wearisome and less instructive than that of any other persons. The Adelaide Jockey Club have just been holding their annual meeting at Melbourne on account of an attempt by the South Australian Legislature to abolish betting! On the whole the prices of things in Melbourne may be said to be about the same as in London. Some things are much dearer, and not so good, as for instance, cloth clothes, boots and shoes. Again, house-rent is excessive. I can give two examples—one, a cottage of one story and four rooms, which lets for 22s. 6d. per week; another, what is called a seven-roomed house, but it really has only four rooms, the other three being merely of the size of dressing-rooms; this is in not at all a fashionable part, and the rent was lately £98. It has now been raised to £108. Every house, however, has a bath-room, and the old houses in which there is no bath have to be fitted with that convenience before they can be let. On the other hand, food, especially meat, is much cheaper, but the meat is not so good as at home, at least in my opinion, but I can scarcely expect this opinion to be accepted without objection. A fish called "garfish" is about the best fish here. It is something like a whiting, but has more taste. Another fish called "trevalli" is not particularly good. There is no sole or turbot or salmon. The colonial wine is, upon the whole, very good and wholesome, and is much drunk. At Geelong lately the heroic measure of destroying the vines has been taken to prevent the spread of phylloxera. There are several good clubs in Melbourne—the principal are the Australian at the west end of the town, and the Melbourne at the east end of Collins-street. On the introduction of a member (approved by the committee), strangers are admitted as honorary members for a month: then for the second month they pay £1, or £6 for six months; but strangers cannot be taken in casually by a member as is the case in many London clubs. Most of the clubs have bedrooms attached, which are much used by travellers in the colonies. They are, therefore, not merely more comfortable, but usually cheaper than hotels, because meals are paid for as taken, while at nearly all hotels the American system of so much a day prevails.
One day I accompanied a friend to the University to be present at the "annual commencement," when the degrees are conferred. The "commencement" here occurs about the middle of the term. With us at Cambridge it is at the end. The ceremony took place in the "Wilson Hall," which is used as a Senate House, and for other public functions in connection with the University. The ceremony itself was almost identical with that at one of our Universities, and it was similarly interrupted by noisy Undergraduates, whose humour consisted in rendering the proceedings inaudible without contributing anything amusing of their own. One lady who took a degree was much cheered. The Bishop
To strangers, the climate of Melbourne is trying at first. Suddenly, in the summer the wind will turn to the north, and in a short time the thermometer registers 100 degs. in the shade. The heat and dust are then almost insupportable. The dust rises like a cloud obscuring even the opposite side of the street. Then the wind will as suddenly veer to the south. In an hour the temperature falls 40 or 50 degs., and the air is cleared by a "southerly buster." In the winter the north wind is a cold wind. In spite of the climate, the Botanical Gardens are an admirable specimen of what may be effected by the skill of man. These gardens are on the south side of the river Yarra. On a hill in the centre of them is built the Government House. There are seen many varieties of trees and plants all carefully labelled. The fern tree bower is very ingenious. You see here the elk or staghorn fern, which grows as a parasite on the palm or the petosperum of New Zealand. The grass is kept beautifully fresh and green, and is a favourite resort. I have no further room to continue this letter, but, in my next, hope to say something of the government and the aspect of politics in Victoria.
III.
Victoria.
he Government of Victoria is nearly a pure democracy. Both Houses are elected by the people, the Legislative Council as well as the Legislative Assembly. To vote for the former a slight property qualification is necessary, viz., £10 freehold, or £25 leasehold. The Assembly is practically elected by universal manhood suffrage, the only restriction being that a voter must have resided twelve months in the colony prior to the 1st January or 1st July in any year. Of course, there is a smouldering agitation for female suffrage, but it has not yet attained the dimensions of the similar agitation in England.
It is to me unintelligible how it is that so many people can be enthusiastic about the prospects of Democracy. As Sir James Stephen says, "We may be drifting down the stream, but that is no reason we should sing Hallelujah." There is no magic in the word. It is simply a form of government, just as monarchy or aristocracy are forms of government. Nor is it a new form of government. It has been tried over and over again, more than 2000 years ago, nor has it ever been a particularly successful or a long-continued form. People often talk as if liberty were more attainable under a Democracy than under any other government. Now, putting aside the question whether liberty is good or bad—for it is entirely a question of time, place, and circumstance—the opinion is unfounded, because the tyranny of a majority is just as galling, and usually less intelligent, than other tyrannies. It has rather cynically been said that governments are of two kinds—bamboo and bamboozle. A Democracy combines these two kinds. When political power is so minutely divided as it is among the voters of England, say, it is not worth having; and power, as a rule, resides in the hands of demagogues, instead of the hands of statesmen.
In Victoria, there is government by party, but there are no real lines of demarcation between them, and it is now merely a struggle for office between the ins and outs. Each party must be prepared with a programme to interest the masses, and to be able to go to the electors with a list of measures to be passed. If a measure is bad, the Government may be turned out. But the ministers are saddled with no responsibility in consequence. They simply wait their turn till the other side makes a mistake. This course has led to legislation which unduly interferes with liberty. There is now before Parliament a new Licensing Bill, the principle of which is Local Option. It is also intended to put down barmaids. Those who at present exist are to be allowed to remain, 346 in number, but no fresh ones are to come forward. The publicans are ranged on one side, some religious bodies on the other. Each side interpret facts in their own way. But every one knows that the fate of the bill will depend on the strength of the parties in the House, and not on argument. Again, the eight hours movement many years ago became law in Victoria. On the 21st of April in each year its anniversary is celebrated with a procession and flags and banners. This year the Governor took part in it, which was thought to be rather undignified on his part. It is a Socialistic measure, which reduces the good workman to the level of the ordinary one. All members of the Assembly receive £300 a year. Hence there are many professed politicians whose chief object appears to be to keep their seat. Lately there was an attempt in the House to vote a pension to a member whose circumstances had been reduced, but the proposal was defeated. Perhaps the time is not quite ripe for that yet. The present Ministry is the result of a coalition between Mr. Service and Mr. Berry. The former was at one time a schoolmaster up the country, but by his talents and energy has raised himself to the position of Premier. Mr. Berry is a well-known Radical politician. It is about six years ago since, in one day, he dismissed the greater number of the Civil servants in consequence of a disagreement between the two Houses. Most of them had to be quickly restored to their places, but public confidence was so much shaken by this arbitrary act that a large amount of capital was transferred to New South Wales—five or six millions, I believe—and even yet the country has not recovered from the shock. This period is known as the Berry-blight. The present Ministry seems likely to continue in power so long as they can provide sufficient sensational legislation.
In Victoria the railways all now belong to the State, and are well managed, but to stations beyond the suburban lines return
In Victoria there is intense opposition to Free Trade. The people would rather make bad boots and shoes for themselves than import cheap and good ones from England. Of course I use Free Trade in the sense of the opposite of protection of native industries. Advocates of Protection appear to me to confound the end with the means, as if manufacturers existed for their own sake and not in order to produce. I have seen the commercial competition between various countries compared with a horse race. Just as some horses are handicapped, so customs duties must be levied on the productions of certain countries to give the others a fair chance! The comparison would be relevant if the object of a handicap were that the best horse should win, but the race itself is the object. Bastiat has reduced this view of commerce to an absurdity in his famous petition. It is a petition supposed to be presented by the dealers in oil, tallow, lamps, &c., in Paris, who request that all shutters, windows, and other apertures for light may be closed against the sun, which spoils their business by shining so brightly during the day. If wheat rained from heaven some people would tax it to protect the farmers. But Free Trade may be made an object of worship in itself, and can then do nothing but harm. It may be made a rule of life, not merely a rule of trade. The satisfaction of material needs is most necessary, and lies at the bottom of civilization, but it is not therefore the most important, and it is quite conceivable that the moral advantages to be derived by a community through reliance on their own energies, may more than compensate for the higher price of particular articles. It has been found not to be good for the human race to have things made too pleasant. The West Indian negroes, "who toil not, neither do they spin," but pick the fruits of the earth ready to their hands, are not the most exalted specimens of mankind. It may be a good thing for a man not to have things too cheaply, if owing to this he is stirred up to work, and can get money enough to live. Free Traders argue that free trade will prevent war, by making evident the inconveniences thereby occasioned to commerce, yet history has never shown that such considerations have been of much weight when strong national feelings are aroused. Nor is it, in my opinion, a desirable thing that they should have a decisive effect. With this class of arguments Free Traders are powerless to deal.
The absence of caste is a noticeable feature in Australian life. Any man, whatever his original position, can rise to the highest offices, and, as a matter of fact, the ministers are frequently tradesmen. None the worse for that, of course; but it was amusingly illustrated in the Assembly the other day, when one of the members—a "chartered libertine," in regard to speech, and they do speak very plainly—boasted that he was a member of a club to which none of the ministers could belong. "They are decent people," he said, "but not professional men, and the membership is limited to them." Domestic servants are particularly independent as a class, and many people do without them altogether rather than submit to pay very high wages for little work. An ordinary cook will receive about £1 a week. They rarely say "sir," but usually plain "mister," which is to most people not a pleasant way of being addressed. They seem to take a pride in addressing their employer (I must not say master or mistress) by their surname, as Mr. or Mrs. So-and-So, as often as possible. What Emerson calls the "fury of expectoration" is very rife throughout the colonies. If a floor or carpet is particularly clean the temptation to spit upon it is too great to be resisted. In the Court-house at Adelaide is a special notice requesting people not to spit on the floor. I suppose this habit is connected with smoking, and smoking with drinking. All day long the hotel bars are besieged by crowds of men demanding "nobblers," like flies round a pot of honey, and I have heard that a hotel proprietor does not care to see his customers go beyond the bar, as so large a proportion of his profit is derived from it. In a debate in the Assembly, on the new Licensing Bill, one orator referred contemptuously to "miserable tea drinkers." "We do not want," he said, "to be Chinafied; the more men drink the better they are." He would find many outside the House of the same opinion. Per contra it was urged that total abstinence produced strength because "Samson was a teetotaller!"
Considering the comparatively small size of Victoria, it is much more thickly populated than any other colony. Its population is very nearly a million, on an area about as large as Great Britain, giving about 10 persons to the square mile. The chief towns after Melbourne are Ballarat, East and West, with a population of 37,000, and Sandhurst, with 28,000. Next comes Geelong, which, with its suburbs, has 21,000. For purposes of representation, the country is divided into 14 provinces, from each of which three members are returned to the Legislative Council. It is divided into 55 electoral districts, which return 86 members to the Legislative Assembly. The country is also divided into 37 counties, but what purpose this division serves I have not been able to ascertain. I have made two visits into the country, one to the neighbourhood of Ballarat to the north-west of Melbourne, the other into Gipp's Land, which is to the east. I went to Gipp's Land to pay a visit to a gentleman well known to the racing world, who has a large estate in the neighbourhood of Sale. Victorians are nothing if not fond of sport. We have a good many races at home, but I think they are exceeded in number by those in Victoria. My host had been engaged in horse-racing more than forty years, and in these circles he is much respected; because he always, as they say, runs his horses to win, and
About six weeks later I went to stay with some friends in the neighbourhood of Ballarat, between that town and Buninyong. I have previously referred to Ballarat as the next largest town to Melbourne. By rail it is 100 miles from Melbourne, though not more than 60 in a direct line. At present the rail goes round by Geelong. Between Geelong and Ballarat the line is double, and admirably constructed, at a cost of £32,000 per mile. It is as well made as any line in England, and the carriages run as smoothly. My friend's house is called "Moramana," a native name, signifying, I am told, "picking up sticks." Buninyong and Ballarat are both native names. It is a matter for discussion whether Ararat, a town some distance to the N.W. of Ballarat, is a native name, too, or whether it has any connection with the ark. I paid a visit to Buninyong, and two visits to Ballarat. Buninyong is properly the name of the mountain there, an extinct volcano, which forms a prominent object in the landscape. The small town takes the same name. It is remarkable chiefly for the fertility of the land in the immediate neighbourhood. It is older than Ballarat, which previous to the discovery of the gold there in 1851 did not exist. There are gold mines, too, at Buninyong, both alluvial and quartz, but chiefly the latter. The Salvation Army flourishes at Buninyong as well as at most places in the Colonies. I have since read in a paper that General Booth has given out that the Salvation Army is likely to become the State church of Victoria, and that Parliament will make it an annual grant of £1,000; or, if not, that Mr. Service will probably do so himself!
Ballarat is a busy town, and here Victorian energy is seen to its best advantage. It is, too, the centre of a large and fertile agricultural district. Gold mining is not now what it once was there. On all sides are the ruins of abandoned "claims," which give a most desolate appearance to the immediate neighbourhood. There is now more gold found at Sandhurst, further north. During the gold fever of 1851, and before there was a line from Geelong, as much as £70 per ton was paid for carriage from that town. The distance is about 60 miles, and the transit occupied ten days for heavy goods. "Until last year," said my friend, "there was a man walking the streets of Ballarat who was known by no other name than Jimmy. He would never beg and never lie down twice in the same spot to sleep if others got to know of it. People gave him food at the door, or, if not, he went to the Asylum for it. I used to see him taking a zig-zag path about the same time each day. When spoken to he would never reply. He had been in this condition since thirty years ago. Then he was a prosperous digger, but some others drugged him, and took away all his money. The drug spared his life, but took away his brains; and so he wandered about, always looking for something, he did not know what." There must be many similar tales of violence perpetrated during that wild time. Ballarat contains the widest street in the Colonies—one of the widest in the world—viz., Sturt-street, which is three chains wide, but its width is rather concealed by a line of trees in the middle. There are some fair buildings in it too. Lake Wendouree, formerly a swamp, now forms a pleasant resort for the people of Ballarat for boating, and being only four feet in depth, there is no danger of drowning. The drive round it too, of about five miles, is pretty. Of course Ballarat cannot do without an art gallery, but to that much praise cannot be given. Some of the pictures by local artists may be interesting as specimens, but the prices attached to them are purely imaginative. To commemorate the Duke of Edinburgh's visit a public hall was to be built, to which honour both East and West Ballarat—which are separate municipalities—laid claim. The difficulty was solved by building the hall over a small creek which separates the two towns, so that each has one end. As Ballarat is 1,400 feet above Melbourne, the temperature is much lower—10 degrees on an average. When I was there in May the weather was decidedly cold. In winter snow is frequent, while in Melbourne it is the rarest thing. From Ballarat I went to Adelaide, but that must be the subject of another letter.