THE GOLDEN VOYAGE.
Auer-RAT:Lk, which promises us such boundless wealth,—if we duly earn it,—is putting us to some inconvenience in various ways. The Bank is parting with its silver, as the golden democracy con- sents to feel a want of shillings, by way of small change ; labourers are becoming scarcer, even the Irish of the better quality being deficient; employers generally are wondering, with a spice of in- dignation in the wonder, that shopmen, artisans, and even clerks, can be so mad as to join the rabble of the diggings at the Anti- podes ! Let these respectable wonderers look in at the moving diorama of the Gold Fields of Australia, and their wonder will subside, perhaps into sympathy. The diorama, though evidently devised with no such 'intent, is almost a persuasion to the voyager. It is a finished sketch, at- taining reality rather by the vividness and animation with which its scenic effects and stirring incidents are dashed off, than by elaborated illusion.* The terrors of the voyage are not omitted— neither the billows of Biscay nor the storms of the Cape ; but the billows are reconciled to English notions by the song of Braham ;
• The picture is painted by Mr. I. S. Prout, from sketches which he made on the spot ; the marine parts are by Mr. Robins, the animals by Mr. C. Weigall ; all men known as competent artists. The animals are finished with great care, and designed with much force.
the gale at the Cape, since it urges us on towards the golden land, seems an advantage rather than otherwise ; and the voyage,'as we make it in this rapid panoramic transit, is by no means tedious, but pleasant, sunny, and varied with incidents. But when you reach Melbourne, an English town in a strange land—when you see its flocks and herds—when you traverse the wide vales of the Yarra-yarra and the Goulburn, with room for the flocks of Europe to depasture in them,—you begin to under- stand what Australia is in her youthful vigour. And then the gold-seekers come on the scene. You overtake them on the road, with their ox-dray, their cradle, their strange costume, half sailor, half Spanish contrabandista, their beards, their Native Mounted Police, their Chinese purveyors : a motley crew, full of wild energy ; here and there perchance a city-looking man amongst them. They have come from all parts ; the very omnibus from Knightsbridge, inscribed "Exhibition," shows how wide and recent are the sub- sidies for their behoof. You feel a growing anxiety to reach the gold-fields ; to which, over those rude roads, those winding streams, with hasty ferry transit, the thickening crowd is flocking.
At last you see Mount Macedon, beginning of the gold-chain ; then the chain itself—three hundred miles of golden ore, stretch- ing away into the distance !—then Mount Alexander, with its camps, and its river, traversing the wilds of inner Australia, the banks crowded by the diggers at their work : a host of picturesque randlarks, busy in their gorgeous grovelling trade : the cradle, the net, the sieve—all in action. And all those people are finding gold ? Yes, all. If you were there, you would be amassing it, hour by hour, out of that common river-drift. The same scene over again " Ophir," beyond Sydney. Seeing is believing. If a man can get rich by that process, who would not try ? Is the scenery uninviting ? Is the road appal- ling ? Is there any sign of difficulty ? Is not the facility attested by the universal rush, which has abandoned even prosperous Mel- bourne for this rapid wealth in the wild ? Are the stories of it which reach us here untrue ? Do you, then, 0 respectable em- ployer! still acknowledge wonder that your workman has con- temned your increasing business, that your shopman has gone out as a " common labourer," or that your clerk has thought to " better himself"? Why, you feel half-inclined to better yourself; and you know that to do so is not impossible. It is true that the painter has not included in his group the man hungering with disappointment, the gold-seeker prostrate with 'disease, nor the victim murdered by the robber or the angry gam- bler. But after all, though not unfrequent exceptions, such inci- dents are exceptional. Even if they were commoner than they are, the mind gladly takes the most hopeful view as to the proba- bilities of a prize for one's-self : when hope is gilded with real gold, and adorned with real "nuggets," precious though not rare, reason itself gives way, and the complacent will paints the picture as the panorama has it—rough, but stirring, gay, and successful.
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