SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

TRAVELS,

Australia and the East : being a Journal Narrative of a Voyage to New South Wales, in an Emigrant Ship; with a Residence of some mouths in Sydney and the Bush, and the Route Home by way of India and Egypt ; in the years 1841 and 1842. By John Hood, of Stoneridge, Berwickshire Murray. Travels through the Alps of Savoy, and other parts of the Pennine Chain; with Ob- servations on the Pluenomeua of Glaciers. By James D. Forbes, F.R.S.. Sec. R.S.E., Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. Pierson. Black, Bdiaburgh The Rector in Search of a Curate. By a Churchman Hatchard.

MR. HOOD'S AUSTRALIA AND THE EAST.

MR. HOOD is a Scotch laird, of mature age, native shrewdness, much good sense and quickness of observation, with a very forcible style of expressing himself, and possessed of a varied acquaintance with men and things—always excepting navigation and navigators. Having one son in India in a Company's regiment, another settled in New South Wales as an extensive sheep-farmer, and a third de- signing to embark in the same career, Mr. HOOD appears to have determined on accompanying the young adventurer to Sydney ; and then, after taking a peep at life in the bush, and examining the capabilities of the colony, to return by way of India in order to call upon the son of Mars. These objects he accomplished, be- tween June 1841 and August 1842; except that his voyage to Bombay was in one sense useless, as his son was absent on service, and the fearful heat, with the other disagreeables of the place, in- duced him to remain no longer than was necessary to get a passage by the Suez steamer.

The peculiar qualities we have described as belonging to Mr HOOD, would render him capable of producing a book of travels worth reading, about almost any country new to himself. His account of New South Wales is by far the most complete and striking that has fallen in our way, if not the most striking account of any of our Colonies. Works on them have hitherto been written by adventurers, not over capable or over trust- worthy ; speculators disappointed, interested, or at the best san- guine, birds of passage who touched at a port, or naturalists, whose primary objects were not the description of modes of life. Beyond all these classes of persons Mr. Hoop enjoyed superior opportu- nities. For several months he resided with an out-settler on the very verge of the colony, with nothing to do but look about him, and pay visits to neighbours few and far between; • and he travelled through a large part of the country, mixing with the first people, with the advantage of not being looked upon as an adventurer or a rival. In his position, his age' and his previous habits of life, with the kind of observation they induced, Mr. HOOD excelled most of his predecessors in this field, but still more in his intellec- tual qualities. We are speaking here of representations, not of de- ductions. We do not mean that his implied judgment is always sound upon the facts he describes, still less that his Colonial dis- quisitians are to be held as containing a true diagnosis or prognosis of Colonial disorders. The character of the book consists in the striking reflex it conveys of the impressions produced upon the author's mind by scenes of nature or habits of life ; that mind, moreover, being of a cast that is rarely found in colonies, and is not common anywhere. With the offhand independence of obser- vation which characterizes the gentleman, there is a national hard- ness of mind and attention to the main chance, mingled with a sensitive appreciation of the simple beauties and a due regard to personal comforts. These qualities give attraction even to the sea-voyage, which had as much novelty to Mr. HOOD as its de- scription will have for the reader ; and have produced, as we have said already, by far the best picture we have yet met with of New South Wales. Here is an early sketch of

SOME FEATURES OF SYDNEY.

'When I landed first on the beach, I was naturally desirous of being relieved of my baggage. Small as it was in bulk, I should have in vain waited for any thing of the nature of a porter, or cab, or coach. There are no such conveniences in Sydney,—a very extraordinary deficiency in a place of its size. A dray may be had to transport heavy goods landed at this place, if you walk a quarter of a mile into the town : but the lesser conveniences are not to be found.

Evidences of civilization, however, and proofs of one's being in a land of money and of classes, are seen on every hand. They have their theatres, ama- teur theatricals, promenades, balls, concerts, reviews, bands, and other amuse- ments. The Theatre Royal is a very neat house, and is tastefully orna- mented; and the knights and ladies of the sock and buskin are most respect- able in character and talent. The exterior of this theatre is extremely good, but the shops beneath take away greatly from its appearance. Signor Dalle Cease has a very unique but neat theatre, next door to my friend Lewis de Bernatinghe's new and handsome shop : his entertainments consist in minor pieces, horsemanship, tomfoolery, and the like. These are among the chief places of public resort in Sydney; hut I should not say, as far as my observation goes, that they are much patronized by the soi-disant upper classes. In Sydney one naturally looks for the badge of the country—convicts and shackles. In the morning, forenoon, and evening, large bands of these unfor- tunate persons are to be seen marching, two, and sometimes three or four abreast, to and from their respective places of labour. They are nearly all dressed alike, in a garb of hodden gray, or duck, and are branded with the initials of the place of their confinement—as P. B., signifying Paramatta Bar- racks, &c. Some of the greater delinquents are also to be seen in bands, chained by the ankle, and sometimes to each other, when marching from one place of imprisonment to another. Some few are dressed in piebald brown and yellow cloth ; so that should they attempt an escape they may be instantly known.

The squalor carceris is generally written in the sunken cheeks and unhealthy countenances of these wretched men. Many have a stupid heavy expression ; others have cunning printed most manifestly on their faces; and some have the villain written in every feature. I dare say I may be in error in my observa- tion, that the general colour of eye of these criminals was black ; but certainly the eye of the greater part of the offspring of the earliest convicts, the genera- tion now peopling Sydney, is of that line. With very few exceptions, the inns throughout the extent of our author's peregrinations in New South Wales were capital ; not like the hovels in Canada and the States, but nice, clean, " road- side " houses, with their flowers and old country signs. Upon these Places Mr. HOOD is encomiastic : they delighted him when in good humour, and raised his spirits when depressed. Here is his first trial, and after experience confirmed it.

"THE BROWN COW," PARAMATTA.

This is a sweet English-looking unpretending hostelry, the "Brown Cow," kept by Mrs. Walker. None better in England, none so good in Sydney; al- though there were many of far greater external pretensions ; a one-storied, verandahed, square building, in the middle of a pretty garden' being all that presents itself to the weary traveller. As soon as he enters, however, he will Rad himself most comfortable, and inclined to rest longer than may probably suit his purse; for here, as elsewhere, travelling is expensive. The charge for tea is three shillings, a bottle of ale or porter three shillings' the keep of a horse for the night five shillings. But the great danger lies in the real comfort around him ; the beds, the neat small rooms, and the appearance of the whole establishment, from the nicety of the garden and cleanliness of the cottage, to the excellent arrangements of the interior, and the civility of the waiters. It is not easy for me to express my pleasure at finding myself in the country, with all the newness of the bush around me, elated with the prospect of my wanderings, and the sight of new scenes. One thing which I have noticed all along the road is, the want of fences. There are none but wooden palings; no hawthorn hedges, no walls even, not even a Fife dike ; which gives a cold and poor appearance to the few things called fields, one does here and there see. I ought, however, to except a cactus hedge, and one of roses and geraniums, which I saw on the hill of Wooloomooloo. But there is one delicious novelty that makes up for many wants—the perfume that pervades the air in the bush and around this inn. In the bush it is not that of flowers, but the freshness of the air from the woods, tasting like nothing I have elsewhere known. But that in the room I now occupy is from the hundred roses and other plants in the garden before me, loading the air with what one would expect to experience only in the gardens of Stamboul or Ispahan. This first hostelry in the route to the interior is most admirable indeed, and is an agreeable surprise to me. It seems a kind of home : I never experienced the impression in an inn before, and I shall be loath to leave it.

Probably the "Government people," before they travelled, were in the habit of taking their ease in their inn, and introduced the custom ; as they have unquestionably created another connected with the

CURRENCY OF NEW SOUTH WALES.

The habits of the colony have introduced a custom in Australia, connected with the circulating medium, which is singularly significant of the state of society. Bills of exchange, as is well known' were invented by the Jews, in consequence of the extortion they were subjected to throughout the world. The same propensity to get possession of the property of others is prevalent in New South Wales, and has forced upon the inhabitants the necessity of substituting for money a species of bill, which is an order upon an agent or banker in Syd- ney, or in other towns, for the sum required, however small : nobody, there- fore, carries money with him. These orders circulate as bank-notes do at home, and very frequently do not reach the person upon whom they are drawn for many months, and, from loss or other causes sometimes not at all. This is, in every way, an advantageous arrangement for the settler in the country, and the only safe one. In settling my bill today, I received in payment of the balance a 3s. order of my son's, given to some one several months before.

LIVING IN THE BUSH.

I had heard so much of the fare of the bush, that the very word " damper " was associated in my mind with something like the black bread of Russia, or the pine bread of Sweden. I am glad to say, however, that it is the very best bread I ever ate. The merino mutton is very excellent, though not equal, in my opinion, to our blackfaced wether ; and, what with the hundred shapes which flour assumes in this country, and other aids, living in the woods is as good as any one need desire, albeit the service is not of plate nor the variety of viands very great. At one house at which I have been, although it was that of an extensive stockholder, and one which might be called a superior establishment in these parts, the remnant of a broken tumbler did service as a mustard-pot, a silver salt-cellar was the point of attack for every knife, black bottles passed for decanters, and one tumbler did the duty of five.

In many houses tea forms a part of every meal; from the bullock-driver and his mate, to the possessor of one hundred thousand merinos, all drink green tea. If you go into a cottage, at any hour, the first thing you are offered is a quart pot of tea, with brown Mauritius or Java sugar, and damper. I must add, that in the bush there is a welcome and a simple hospitality not to be met with in Sydney.

CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY.

This want of country is one of the most serious bars, as it appears to me, in the way of the future advancement of the colony. The idea of the settler not finding ample room in so immense a country as Australia may at first seem absurd ; but many things are required to form what is called "a desirable run." The feed must be good ; the water must be in sufficient quantity not to fail in dry seasons ; there must be a passable country betwixt it and Sydney ; the land-carriage must not exceed three hundred miles at the utmost, or there must be good water-communication with the metropolis. Now, a very con- siderable part of the known country where these requisites are combined is

already occupied; and without these no station is worth baying. * •

To give any thing like a correct description of the appearance of this country is very difficult. It is totally unlike any I have seen : it is a succession of mountainous ridges and ranges, with vallies between. The sea during a storm is the nearest resemblance to it I can draw : every mountain and valley is covered with wood, and the roads leading over the summits of these ranges afford a constant repetition of just the same never-ending forest. In one of our rides over the runs' we had from the top of one of the ranges a bird's-eye view of the country about and beyond Boree. It was a succession of ridges of forest, with the fertile district and vale of Bores lying burnt up in the hollow below. The whole landscape had, as at Rottens Inn, a brown, withered ap-

pearance, painful to look at. •

The most striking feature of this country is the universal extent of forest; and there are some circumstances connected with it that may not be generally known. Among the many peculiarities of the Australian forest is the brittle- ness of some of its timber. Before rain, trees frequently fall, without any warning; and in the slightest wind, gum-trees of the largest dimensions are levelled to the ground in every direction. No one builds a cottage without clearing away all the large trees near the spot, lest they should crush it in their fall. Throughout the unbounded forests of Australis, one sees living and

dead trees mingled together, and often as many prostrate as erect. * • I do not suppose that in England the whole of Australia is considered to he one endless forest, with here and there an occasional plain ; but that is much -nearer the truth than would be imagined. It was long before I could realise the idea, that in looking through the glades of these woods, I saw the pastures of the Merinos, and cattle-herds of the stockholder. But so it is; and one

great pleasure in traversing them, is to come unexpectedly upon from five hundred to a thousand sheep, and some hundred of cattle, in charge of their solitary shepherd, and roaming at will unrestrained by fence or hedge. The principal plains are Liverpool, Melville, Beardy, and Darling, in the North ; Emu, King's, and Bathurst, in the West ; and Milner*, Geoid-burn, Yeas, and

others, in the South. Some of them are very fertile, and of large extent ; but all are not cleared of timber; and with reference to the extent of the country, they are as nothing, and do not interfere with the truth of the observation that New Holland is one immense forest.

The troubles of the bush are various ; loss of sheep, loss of cattle, loss of horses, sometimes from wandering away, sometimes from being cirried off in order to claim the rewards offered for their dis- covery, and sometimes stolen by Blacks or Bushrangers who beset the out-stations, often robbing and occasionally murdering the colonists. But these evils no more affect the true settlers than gales and nautical inconveniences trouble sailors,—though they distressed the laird ; who gives a capital account of them. For these troubles, however, we have not room ; but we will quote the first topic of a Britisher's discourse—

THE WEATHER.

For my own part, I conceive that the changes of climate here are fully as great as at home, and more instantaneous; and that the deluges of rain that do occasionally fall, the dust that almost constantly fills the air and penetrates everywhere, the beat by day and the cold by night, require as perfect dwellings both for man and beast as in other lands. It is true that the thermometer seldom or never stands at Sydney in winter (May, June, and July,) below 40 degrees, and that the average is about 53 degrees ; that the average tempera- ture of summer, (November, December, and January,) is somewhere about 74 degrees in the shade ; sod that there is a dryness in the air that is singularly salubrious. It is certain also that we have not the extreme of heat known in India, nor the cold of Northern latitudes ; but still we have occasional days of overwhelming heat, when the mercury will rise in the shade to 85 degrees, and fall in the night to 53 degrees ; and, not to mention our minuter foes, the in- sects, we have hurricane winds, that might be excluded by more substantial and closer workmanship.

THE EMIGRANT BARRACKS.

The present state of the barracks for immigrants in Sydney is, in some de- gree, a commentary on the system of immigration pursued of late: there are 516 Irish, 164 English, and 35 Scotch immigrants, living unengaged at this moment in tents at this place of refuge. Ireland, from the poverty of its lower classes, readily suggested itself to the wholesale agents for the exporta- tion of human beings as the most promising field from which to obtain lading for their ships and bounty for their pockets. Ambulatory decoy-ducks were employed to traverse its Southern (the Roman Catholic) counties, and speechify the unfortunate and discontented into delusive hopes of a better world at the Antipodes.

The Irish are hard-working men at any fixed and certain labour : they can live at home on simple and scanty fare; but on reaching the shores of this country their character changes; they are found to be indolent at their tasks, and troublesome and discontented as to their food. Their families are gene- rally numerous; and the result is, that they find, when too late, that their labour is not in demand. From what I learnt from several families in these tents, it is evident that the Irish are neither liked in the bush nor inclined to make themselves of value ; and it is a fact that there are many now there that have been five months on the Government allowance of beef and flour, and prefer living in idleness on that, to taking such wages as were offered them. One would have expected a different state of things, and that they would be thankful to get a home and employment. Some arrangement is evidently re- quired to combat this injurious sloth : instead of the charity being extended for such a lengthened period, they ought, after moderate wages have been refused by them, to receive that support no longer.

In many respects the Irish are unsuited to a pastoral life : they do not in general make good shepherds ; their wives are seldom contented with the bash life; and the expense of removing their families is a great objection to their being employed there.

The general exposition of the evils of New South Wales and the method of curing them is the least valuable part of Mr. Ikon's work. The two great drawbacks, according to him, are the high upset price of land and the want of labour. To us, the character of the climate and the country seems the great difficulty. Drought periodically recurring seems a thing threatening periodical rum; for it does not, like a bad season or seasons in other countries, only involve loss—it causes destruction. The stock perishes in numbers everywhere, and in unfavourable situations almost entirely ; a commercial or currency crisis follows this destruction of capital, and the settler is driven to money-lenders to meet his de- mands and postpone his ruin. Nay, stranger still, there does not seem to be a permanent dependence upon a district. In other countries, a wet season is injurious to cold moist soils—a dry season to sandy ones : but the season passes with only a passing result—the inherent properties of the soil remain. In New South Wales, rivers and streams appear permanently to diminish in quantity, and entail barrenness or inferior utility on what was once a fertile district.

In calling for labour, Mr. HOOD appears to be echoing a Colonial cry : and labour is doubtless wanted—but not indiscriminate or even average emigration. We have seen the state of the Emigration Barracks ; and we do not learn from Mr. HOOD'S scattered facts that enterprise is continually checked for want of labourers, or that the present distress of the colony could be remedied by mere num- bers. The great staple, our author says, is wool ; upon this the colony must rest : his great argument is for shepherds at twenty pounds a year instead of forty. This difference is something to the pocket of the settler ; but, looking to the number of sheep one man attends to, its influence in the price of a pound of wool is too slight to affect the general prosperity of the colony. Translating the demand into its true meaning, what the colonists want is the elite of skilled and careful labour at a cheap rate. They want patience, sobriety, foresight, activity, daring courage in horsemanship or against Blacks and Bushrangers, with a capacity to bear privation and almost total solitude—for twenty pounds a year and rations.

A " well-stocked labour-market" would, no doubt, effect in New South Wales what it accomplishes at home, render the

iabourer dependent upon the employer, and, if sufficiently "well stocked," place the workmen at his mercy. But this end is not the object of colonization. Under that rare thing a government with means at its disposal, unskilled labour, of which there now appears some in the colony, might be employed in public works to permanently benefit the country—that is, tanks and other recep- tacles of water; for rain enough seems to fall in New South Wales, but it runs off too rapidly. Had philosophic forethought ever been in the Colonial Office, something of this kind would have been attempted when so much convict-labour was at the disposal of the Government, and was so miserably used or abused. But philosophy and forethought are not the companions of officials, or even of statesmen, nowadays.