to what as a boy he had 
learnt for amusement, and obtained an addition to his income of more
than four hundred pounds a year as house carpenter. In the morning you 
might see him trudging off to his work, and before night might meet 
him at some ball or soiree among the elite of Melbourne. 
I shall not attempt an elaborate description of the town of Melbourne, 
or its neighbouring villages. A subject so often and well discussed 
might almost be omitted altogether. The town is very well laid out; the 
streets (which are all straight, running parallel with and across one 
another) are very wide, but are incomplete, not lighted, and many are 
unpaved. Owing to the want of lamps, few, except when full moon, 
dare stir out after dark. Some of the shops are very fair; but the goods 
all partake too largely of the flash order, for the purpose of suiting the 
tastes of successful diggers, their wives and families; it is ludicrous to 
see them in the shops--men who, before the gold-mines were 
discovered, toiled hard for their daily bread, taking off half-a-dozen 
thick gold rings from their fingers, and trying to pull on to their rough, 
well-hardened hands the best white kids, to be worn at some wedding 
party; whilst the wife, proud of the novel ornament, descants on the 
folly of hiding them beneath such useless articles as gloves. 
The two principal streets are Collins Street and Elizabeth Street. The 
former runs east and west, the latter crossing it in the centre. Melbourne 
is built on two hills, and the view from the top of Collins Street East, is 
very striking on a fine day when well filled with passengers and 
vehicles. Down the eye passes till it reaches Elizabeth Street at the foot; 
then up again, and the moving mass seems like so many tiny black 
specks in the distance, and the country beyond looks but a little piece of 
green. A great deal of confusion arises from the want of their names 
being painted on the corners of the streets: to a stranger, this is 
particularly inconvenient, the more so, as being straight, they appear all 
alike on first acquaintance. The confusion is also increased by the same 
title, with slight variation, being applied to so many, as, for instance, 
Collins Street East; Collins Street West; Little Collins Street East; 
Little Collins Street West, &c. &c. Churches and chapels for all sects 
and denominations meet the eye; but the Established Church has, of all, 
the worst provision for its members, only two small churches being as 
yet completed; and Sunday after Sunday do numbers return from St. 
Peter's, unable to obtain even standing room beneath the porch. For the 
gay, there are two circuses and one theatre, where the "ladies" who
frequent it smoke short tobacco-pipes in the boxes and dress-circle. 
The country round is very pretty, particularly Richmond and 
Collingwood; the latter will, I expect, soon become part of Melbourne 
itself. It is situated at the fashionable--that is, EAST--end of Melbourne, 
and the buildings of the city and this suburban village are making rapid 
strides towards each other. Of Richmond, I may remark that it does 
possess a "Star and Garter," though a very different affair to its 
namesake at the antipodes, being only a small public-house. On the 
shores of the bay, at nice driving distances, are Brighton and St. Kilda. 
Two or three fall-to-pieces bathing-machines are at present the only 
stock in trade of these watering-places; still, should some would-be 
fashionables among my readers desire to emigrate, it may gratify them 
to learn that they need not forego the pleasure of visiting Brighton in 
the season. 
When I first arrived, as the weather was still very cold and wet, my 
greatest source of discomfort arose from the want of coal-fires, and the 
draughts, which are innumerable, owing to the slight manner in which 
the houses are run up; in some the front entrance opens direct into the 
sitting-rooms, very unpleasant, and entirely precluding the "not at 
home" to an unwelcome visitor. Wood fires have at best but a cheerless 
look, and I often longed for the bright blaze and merry fireside of an 
English home. Firewood is sold at the rate of fifty shillings for a 
good-sized barrow-full. 
The colonists (I here speak of the old-established ones) are naturally 
very hospitable, and disposed to receive strangers with great kindness; 
but the present ferment has made them forget everything in the glitter 
of their own mines, and all comfort is laid aside; money is the idol, and 
making it is the one mania which absorbs every other thought. 
The walking inhabitants are of themselves a study: glance into the 
streets--all nations, classes, and costumes are represented there. 
Chinamen, with pigtails and    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.