Its other productions will in time form articles of commerce; and therefore, whether as regards wool, agriculture, salt provisions, wine, tobacco, or silk, or other future products, a progressive population should be steadily encouraged. At no period of her history is it at all probable that she will be enabled to despise the sheep and the fleece, which made her what she is: while other interests, therefore, are fostered as adjuncts and auxiliaries, it is the interest and the duty of every Australian to watch with a jealous eye over the great commercial staple of his country. As in Sweden and Norway, India, America, and other lands, so it is in Australia; Nature, in her climate, has pointed with an unerring finger to the article which ought to be her chiefest care.

CHAPTER XI.

VOYAGE HOME.

Leave Australia-The William Sharples-Delays in paying the bounties— View of Sydney from the harbour-Inspection of the ship—A runaway— Storm-Contrary winds-Calms-Whistling for a wind-Our crewBeautiful phenomenon- Favourable change in the weather-Van Diemen's Land-Storms—A terrible calm-Lost sight of Australia-Proposed route from Bombay-Intense heat-Trade Winds-The Dolphin-Sperm Whales-Sharks and Pilot Fish-Opium clippers-Our boatswain-The Sailor's Home-The Arabian sea-Ophir-Tarshish-Egypt-The swordfish-The monsoons-Supposed food of the whale-The Earl of Balcarrass -Bombay-Its position-The roads-The island of Bombay-The Par -The cholera-Letters of introduction-Victoria Hotel-Lights of Bombay-The fort-The native women-Water-Dingys or native boats— Population of Bombay-Native children-Cattle-Arabs-Modes of performing the last rites to the dead-Temples-Dwelling houses-Division of labour-Mercantile crisis-Official mystery-Cotton ship on fire-Cotton -Carriages-Trees and plants-Birds-Out of doors hubbub, and in doors quiet-Absence of rivers.

sees

A CONSIDERABLE number of the early pages of that portion of the manuscript which detailed this division of my wanderings having been lost in London, after the preceding pages were in type, I cannot now attempt to recompose them; and must content myself with giving very briefly a general summary of the matters they contained.

I had been two days on board the William Sharples, preparatory to sailing, when from the deck, on Sunday evening, I beheld a scene that I do not believe could be

DEPARTURE FROM SYDNEY.

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surpassed, or indeed equalled, in the world. It was one of those evenings only known in such latitudes; the fires of the day were spent, and had been succeeded by that balmy coolness which restores and reinvigorates the exhausted and wearied frame. The sun was down, and had left the sky one mass of glowing gold, with a purple hue overhead that was reflected on the water, and produced an effect beautiful beyond description. Not a breath of air agitated the surface of the sea; innumerable ships lay at anchor betwixt us and the shore; their flags were hanging motionless on their masts; boats of an endless variety of shape were cutting their silent way in every direction, and steamers were darting past almost noiselessly; the white cottages and handsome villas were still visible in the forest all around; the Government House towered in front; there was a peaceful stillness on the water and all the country near, strangely contrasted with the hum of the city; the evening gun from the shore, and the responses of the bells from the shipping, added to the effect; and the whole left an impression of the scenery in an autumn evening in Australia, such as I never before beheld.

After various delays from procrastination in the payment of the ship's bounties, and from contrary winds, on the 16th of March we at last weighed anchor and moved down the beautiful harbour of Sydney. My last view of the city, its adjoining bays, gardens, gentlemen's houses, and endless succession of landscapes, all backed by the everlasting forest, I shall never forget. No one, I think, can leave this place without retaining in his memory a vivid and enduring recollection of its singular loveliness. The feelings, also, of that moment are not easily to be forgotten, being a mixture of regret and pleasure, anxiety and hope,— regret at leaving so fine a country, and at parting with those

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THE WILLIAM SHARPLES.

who are dear to us, and yet pleasure in the prospect of again returning to our native land; anxiety as to the future welfare of the colony, and those we part from; and hope predominating, after all, from the knowledge of the capabilities of the colony, and its advantages in climate and other essentials of prosperity, over almost any other country; and confidence, above all, in the energy of her sons.

After having my remembrance of the terrible miseries of Chouder Bay refreshed by a sight of it in proceeding towards the sea, I passed once more between the tremendous Heads, and was again on the vast Pacific.

The William Sharples was a noble ship, and beautifully kept; and her commander, Captain Jones, was just one of those men you feel assured from the first is not only an excellent sailor, but also a person with whom a long voyage may be got through satisfactorily. We had very adverse winds, and great difficulty in getting through Bass's Straits, being nearly a month too late for making the passage westward. We were forced to lay-to four days successively, and five weeks were passed before we sighted the coast opposite the entrance to King George's Sound. Near us were some small islands not laid down in any chart; which, assuming to myself the privilege so freely exercised by all other great navigators, I forthwith christened JONES' ISLANDS, in compliment to our gallant commander. The latitude and longitude were accurately given in the lost MS., with a special injunction to the entire race of hydrographers so to designate them in all their future productions. It was not till the sixth week after leaving Sydney that we lost sight of that fifth division of the globe, Australia,-the tops of its mountains, off the shores of Swan River, being the last part visible; and we were then fairly in the Indian Ocean.

Among the few incidents that relieved the tedium of the first part of our voyage—and anything is an incident at sea-was the discovery (after the search officers had left us) of a poor unhappy Benedict, who had fled from England from one wife, and was now flying from Sydney from another, preferring, on comparison, the first to the second. He had stowed himself away down below till all search was over, and escaped the poking of swords into odd corners, and all the other means of detection, and was now safe. We had some severe weather before falling in with the trade winds. The sea in this ocean does not fall after a storm so rapidly as in the Atlantic or Pacific. After a heavy gale, which we had for three days, the waves still continued to toss us about: twelve or eighteen hours generally sufficed for this purpose elsewhere; but here a high sea rolled and tossed us unmercifully for two days.

At the line we had great heat, to be relieved only by deep potations of sangaree. The thermometer generally stood at 90° in the cabin at dinner; and at night the oppression was excessive. We met with only three vessels—a Prussian, an opium clipper, and the largest merchantman in the world, the old Earl of Balcarras, which had made the fortune of many captains in her long career of seventy years. She is still a noble ship, and is partly owned by a rich Parsee called Pestonjee Bomanjee: her cargo of cotton was valued at £70,000! With all of these vessels we held conversation; but with the usual conciseness of such colloquies at sea.

We saw several whales, and that curious minute substance somewhat resembling in its appearance masses of short hairs, on which they feed. We had also around us sharks, and their constant attendant, the pilot-fish; the sword-fish, and the beautiful dolphin; one of the latter we