FROM GISBORNE TO MELBOURNE.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume X, Issue 1163, 30 September 1882, Page 2

FROM GISBORNE TO MELBOURNE.

WRITTEN FOR THE POVERTY BAY STANDARD. No. XVll.— (Conclusion). HOBARTON (Continued). I think I cannot bring this series of letters to a close in any more interesting way than by alluding to some of the few things I saw, and heard of, personally, during my short stay in Hobart of about six hours. I have heard it said that people go to Hobart or other portions of Tasmania to recruit their wasted energy and strength. If they go there for that purpose, from New South Wales, Victoria (including Australia,generally),or New Zealand, all I can say is that it speaks either immensely in favor of the former, or equally disadvantageously to the latter. Much as I like what little I saw of Hobart, and in view of the much more that I have read and heard of from others, about the fascinating beauty of the Island, I do not give an unconsidered credence to the statement above recorded. Change is always pleasant, for a time, at least, to most of us. A mere monotonous, diurnal, performance of duty—even if reduced to a minimum of deleterious effect upon the human frame and mind—will pall upon the best of us, and drive us to seek restoration of our vital energies in mental and physical recreation. So, I assume, it is with those who regard a periodical trip to Tasmania, as much as a social duty, as the denizens of London look forward to a sojourn across the Straits of Dover. Tasmania, truly, is not France; nor is Hobarton, Paris ; but both have an equivalent of charm to the pater and water familias of this hemisphere, as the latter have those of the Old World. I have already sung the praises of the Derwent River, which, for miles, takes the voyager along some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. The sight was strikingly grand on the morning of my arrival, but it was mostly as nature made it. Husbandry had done little or nothing to improve the prospect. No cattle were to be seen, a very few sheep, and no horses ; probably the animals had been driven to fresh fields, and newer pastures, for moister feed ; for, I must not forget it was at the fag end of a prolonged drought, when I

“ Viewed the landscape o’er.” Well, our pleasures, like (some of) our sorrows, come to an end, sooner or later ; and the stern reality of life was once more made apparent by our arrival a t the wharf, the approach io which—after “opening the town”— was marked by a scene of much auuat:canimation. In the extreme distance we espied three men-of-war —Erne-aid. Ne’son, and Miranda —whose crews were in theirboats, and steam launches, pb’ing to aud fro ; some were exercising, and the competing boats put on spurts to attract the notice aud won the admiration of our passengers, who were narrowly watching their moments. There were several large vessel iu port, a number of coasters, and intercolonial traders ; and as most of these had tje;c sails loosened, to catch the fresli’ning breeze, it had the usual “forest-of-masts” like effect upon the beholder, so of ven referred to, and made famPiar, in Captain Marryatt’s sea yarns. The wharf accommodation appeared to me singularly commodious, but we did not stay sutiic’ently Jong to enquire very minutely regarding it, for we felt, at least I did, as one having a lot to do, aud but little time to do it iu. From the bay, the town, backed as it is by that grand of “ Mount Wellington,” presents one of the most imposing spectacles to be seen in the world. The scene is one of grand magnificence ; and as my command of language is, proverbially, limited, I shall abstain from the abortive attempt of adding bri’b’ancy to sun, painting the lily, or giving perfume to the vio’et. (This last poetic effusion, if it be such, some of your readers will have heard before). There is yet another poetic idea, which both wood to oil (to say nothing of water) painters adopt, viz., “distance lends enchantment to the view.” But—although there is much on landing in Hobart that will not particularly impress one with the beauty that lies beyond — I must say that is not applicable in the present case, for the town of Hobart is a pret-y place, in fact, a very pretty place, as most places of almost the least pretension to topographical variety, generally are. If I look for its compeer or resamblant, in your Co’ony, I should take (as I have done before) the extremes, or nearly so, viz., Auckland and Dunedin. Hobartou is, however, not so ruggedly billy as Dunedin aud Wellington a’ - e. in some parts, nor so monstrously tame, and comparatively interesting as is Christchurch, in all its parts. The lower or shipping portion of the town, beats (or, I should say, differs from) any thing I have ever seen. After leaving the wharf, you pass a building that does duty for a customhouse, but it might be taken for anything between a “colonial” reformatory and a sailors’ home. To the left lies a long, broad stretch of what appears to the stranger to be reclaimed land, but quite unoccupied except by dilapidateil small craft, fishermens’ huts, and general nautical refuse. On the rirht stands a row of what were once, I dare say, merchants' or other business stores, but v hefher inerrftse of trade took their

owners away to more commodious premises, or whether a decrease sent them away, I cannot say ; but, this much is certain, that the said row is in a most pitiable condition, both as regards tenancy and appearance, for, even as stores in their pristine era, they could not have ranked for much ; but now they resemble so many uninhabited bedrooms —with no one living on the groundfloor and the first-floor lodgers left without leave. The shutters were up, and on which were many hand-writings of the Hobartou larrikins, signifying, nothing but naughtiness, while from the first-floor, the remains of what might, once upon a time, have been window-blinds waved plaintively in the breeze. I have seen the noted Seven Dials : I have visited Petticoat Lane, Spitalfields, Ratcliff Highway, the New Cut, and other places of history in that modern Babylon called London, but I did not see anything therein so thoroughly characteristic of what has gone before, as I saw during the first few’minutes of my landing at Hobart. But for all that, I make bold to say, it is a pretty—a very pretty place. My adjective, however, is of qualified extent, for it is Nature that we a 1! see in all its beauty here, and if man had done as much, the boasting would have been more substantial and real. There is is an air of excessive primitivenes about the town. In short, it is a facsimile of some quaint sleepy, easy-come-easy-go kind of a sea-port English town; but superior to that, inasmuch as being a colony of modern settlement, it boasts of much of that elastic material called wealth, unknown to the more primitive denizens of out-of-the-way places in the old country. Hence, the casual visitor—who has heard so much of Hobartou beauty—but, judging from what he sees—comes, probably, too hastily, to the conclusion that the country is a little too good for the people who possess it. They don t seem to apprec’ace Rs value, or they would do more to develop its immense resources ; although that is being done with a vigor unknown till lately. Especially is this observable in the town itself, for there are reaHy few first-rate buildings, and the thoroughfares, though naturally capacious, are not up to what one would expect. The city (as I bebeve Hobart is called) is in the form of a square, aud like (though still unlike) ancient Rome, is built on a succession of hills, covering about 1,270 acres in extent. The population is nearly 22,000, occupying some 5000 houses, the annual rental of which is assessed at £llO,BOO. Government house is reckoned the most elaborately constituted residence on the island ; its position is not a commanding one, although very picturesquely situated on the bank of the river Derwent. The grounds round it are limited in extent, but they are beautifully laid out, and their approach is obtained by a very pleasant drive through the park-like domain that lies between them and the town. There are in all 31 places of public worship, exclusive of two cathedrals—-Episcopalian and Roman Catholic. There is but one theatre, besides the town hall and other smaller places of entertainment; but I am glad to find that education is supported on a rather liberal scale, both private aud public schools, bearing in favorable proportion to the population. I have, already intimated the general appreciation in which the Hobarton ales are deservedly held. I believe there are only 5 breweries, but they appear to .do both large home aud export a trade. During our drive, as one of the sights of the place, we were invited to inspect the celebrated “ Cascade ” brewery, at a distance of some 3or 4 miles from the wharf. Time did not admit of my obtaining many, or any, particulars ; but, as one amongst a number, its huge proportions and capacity for turning out beer, indicated the vast amount of consumption of malt liquor going on. It is built of stone, quarried from enormous blocks ; and it was then undergoing extensive improvements, id view of the increasing trade. Its name is derived from a kind of miniature cascade, or natural waterfall, by which it is worked—in fact, all the lifting power and a good deal of other motor force, where heat is not required, are obtained by hydraulic pressure—an item os great economy. (To be continued-)