Homeward Bound after Thirty Years. A colonist's impressions of New Zealand, Australia, Tangier and Spain ... With ... illustrations

Introduction

. Intended at first for private circulation only, this description of what I saw and thought on my trip from Wellington, New Zealand, visiting Napier, Gisborne, Auckland, Bay of Islands, Sydney, Katoomba, Hobart, Melbourne, Adelaide, Co lombo, Kandy, Port Said, Naples, Pompeii, Rome, Tangier, Cadiz, Seville, Cordova, Granada, Ma laga, and Gibraltar, to the shores of England, after thirty years' absence in the Colony of New Zealand, is now thrown upon the tender mercies of The Public, to succeed or fail by its own merits. The Illustrations are not fancy sketches. They are facsimiles of genuine photographs ; and not a word of the text is altered from the original manuscript. Edward Reeves. Champs Ely'S^es, Paris. October 6th, 1891. ERRATA. Page 55, fourth line from bottom, for "The Term of his Natural Life," read " His Natural Life."

Page 57> l'ne under second illustration, after " Tasman," for "Island," read " Peninsula." Page 58, first line, after "mountain " read " the spot where John Rex takes refuge ; Tasman Peninsula ; Eagle-hawk Neck, the narrow isthmus connecting Tasman Peninsula with," etc. Page 58, line under illustration should read : " Eagle-hawk Neck : the Bulldog Platform." Page 122, third line from bottom, delete the comma after "boredom," and insert it after " then." Page 123, second line from bottom, for "sank " read "went down." PAGE 1 102 '30 IX CONTENTS.

Chapter I

New Zealand in 1860, '70, '80, and '90.— Our Departure from Wellington. — The U.S.S. Co.'s S.S. Mararoa.— Napier. — Gisborne. — Auckland. — Labour Unions. — Maori Curios. — Bay of Islands. — Effects of our Civilization on the Maori. — Quoits. — Colonial Experience. — Sir George Grey.— Pauper Immigration. — Our Fisherman. — A real Australian Night

Chapter II

Sydney.— A Divided Wardrobe. — The Blue Mountains. — Zigzag Railway. — Katoomba. — Ants. — The O.S.N. Co.'s S.S. Ormuz. — How we got on Second Class. — A Stowaway. — Hobart. — Its Convict Memories. — " King Billy." — Eating £$ Notes. — -Pretty Wives for Greymouth Gold-diggers. —The Tasmanian Tiger . . 35

Chapter III

Shipmates. — Leonina Societas. — Routes, Naples to London. — Marvellous Melbourne. — Three Courses for Sixpence. — Waitresses. — Cup Day. — Thirty Kinds of Fruit. — Burke and Wills. — Volunteers. — Australians "honouring" New Zealand. — Sunrise at Sea. — Adelaide. — Broken Hill Scrip. — Grapes. — Bill of Fare 1891 versus 1S60. — Wine-growing. — ,£50,000 Sweeps. — Boatswain's Manoeuvre. — Western Australia. — Convict Certificates ..... 66

Chapter IV

Wind Charts. — A Songless Ocean. — Sunday. — How I Spend a Day in the Tropic of Capricorn. — Good Advice about Thrift. — A Friendless Passenger. — Amusements. — The Newspaper. — "How I Lost my Box-seat : " a Y'arn. — Captain Jorgenson's Lifeboat. — A Phantasmal River. — The Heat. — Criticisms on Passenger Arrangements .

Chapter V

Colombo. — Diving for Silver Bits. — Catamarans. — Jinrickshas. — Salvation Army. — Paddy Fields. — Vegetation. — The "Cavendish" Banana. — Tea Plantations. — Tamyls. — Bargaining with Cingalese. — Kandy. — The Lake. — Moonlight and Fireflies. — A Bashful Buddhist. — Dairy Produce. — Peradaniya. — Arabi Pasha. — A Feast of Stars. — Neptune's Day gone. — The Red Sea. — Moses' Well. — Suez Canal by Electric Light.— Sunday at Port Said. — Crete and Clauda . CONTENTS. X

Chapter VI. Page

Naples.— Vesuvius.— On the Way to Rome.— Picturesque Towns.— Rich Soil.— Rome.— Our Enthusiasm.— Pont.Max.— Sunday.— St.Paul's: "Ours an Extraordinary Case."— Christian Martyrs.— Cemetery of the Capuchins: A Display of Skeletons. — S.P.Q.R.— A Street Fifteen Miles long, en fete.— Macaroni Manufacturers.— Pompeii.— Impressions of Italy 5

Chapter VII

The Hermit of Island Bay.— Gibraltar.— Tangier.— Tangier by Lantern. —The Zocco.— An Arab Cafe and Concert.— Escorting a Bride to the Bath.— Nocturnal Beggars.— Visiting the Bazaar. — Arab at Prayers.— Jewish Houses.— The Prison.— The Harem.— A School. —Snake-charmers.— A Moorish Marriage.— A Country Ride.— Locusts. — Hadji Rifi's Photograph 197

Chapter VIII

Cadiz. — Jeres. — Seville.— Murillo's Paintings. — The American Lady, the "Guardian Angel," and the Archbishop. — Cathedral. — A Big Penance. — Corpus Christi. — Story of the Dancing Boys. — Dancing before the Altar. — Procession of The Thorn. — Bull-fight: 16000 Spectators. — Banderilleros : Picadors : Matadors. — Guerita, the Idol of Spain. — Amiable Sport at a Regatta. — The Illuminations . . 230

Chapter IX

Cordova — The Great Mosque : its Size and Splendour. — The Christian Church in the Mosque. — The Mihrab. — The Gates of Pardon. — Story of the Prison Pillar. — The Bridge. — The Puppet Show. — Water-sellers. — Beggars. — Granada. — The Vega. — The Sierra Nevada. — Strange Burial Customs. — Gitanos in Caves. — Curious Spanish Habits. — The Alhambra : the Precincts of the Palace . 270

Chapter X

Poetic Inscriptions. —Coffin-bearers Resting. — Waiters' and Barbers' Courtesies. — Description of the Palace : Court of Myrtles : Court of Lions : Hall of Justice : The Two Sisters : Hall of Ambassadors: Sultana's Robing Room: Subterranean Rooms. — The Generalise. — Granada Cathedral. — Tombs of Ferdinand and Isabella.— A Thunderstorm. — Dinner in the Garden.— Malaga.— Ingenious Customs Agent. — Plymouth. — The Thames . . . 303

Appendix

. Tattooed Heads 333 CORDOVA, THE ClTY OF THE KHALIF 333 Leasehold Cemeteries 334 The "Enlightened Administration" of the Moors . . 334 The Massacre of the Abencerrages 335 New Zealand and the Suez Route LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. i. GRANADA . . . The Alhambra Palace : Pavilion in the Court ok Lions . . . Frontispiece. 2. NEW ZEALAND . . Wellington in 1891 . . . . Page 7 3. NEW SOUTH WALES Sydney : The Inner Harbour . . 3& 4. ,, The Blue Mountains 43 5. TASMANIA . . . Hobart: Government House ,, Sr, 6. ,, The Cart to which Convicts were Harnessed „ 57 7. ,, Port Arthur Convict Settlement, Tasman Peninsula: Deadman's Island 57 S. ,, Eagle-hawk Neck : The Bull-dog Platforms „ 58 9. ,, "King Billy" ,,59 10. ,, Truccanini, The Last of the Tasmanian Race 1, Go ii. CEYLON .... Colombo : Catamaran and Cingalese Boatmen ,, 132 12. ,, Kandy : The Artificial Lake . . ,, 139 r3.

THE RED SEA . . Moses' Well , 154 14. THE SUEZ CANAL . Loaded Camels Crossing 156 15. ,, Steamer Passing through : A Gare, or Crossing Station ....,, 158 16. ROME Ossario dei Capucini . . .183 17. POMPEII ■ . . . Cast of Woman Buried under the Ashes from Mount Vesuvius . . ,, 191 18. „ A Street 192 i9. TANGIER ,,203 20. „ The Zocco ,,205 21. „ Water sellers Filling Barrels at the Street Fountain „ 206 22. ,, The Water-seller ,, 207 23. „ The City Walls 211 24. ,, Public Buildings . . . . -■ ,. 218 25. ,, The Inner Court: Sultan's Palace . ,, 219 26. ,, Hadji Rifi 228 27. CADIZ 232 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 28. SEVILLE .... The Cathedral P*g* 24° 29- .. The Boy Dancers » 245 3°* ,■> A Street: Giralda Tower >, 250 31- f'i The Bull-Fight: The Banderilleros with Cloaks . ,, 258 32. ,, )( M Salto de la Garrocha .

" . ,, 260 33- ,. „ ,, The Picador . . „ 261 34- m ,, ,, Killing the Horses ,, 262 35- m ,, „ Banderillas . . ,, 263 36. ,, „ ,, The Matador . . „ 264 37- >■ ,, „ Guerita ...» 38. CORDOVA .... The Great Mosque „ 273 39- ,, The Bridge „ 278 40. GRANADA .... Avenue Leading to the Alhambra . ,, 290 41- ,, Dwellings Excavated in the Hillside ,, 292 42- 1, Spanish Girl of the Lower Class . „ 293 43- n The Gipsy King ,, 295 44- ,, The Gipsy Queen „ 296 45- ji The Alhambra , 300 46- ,, Portico of the Court of Myrtles . „ 312 47- >i Window in the Hall of Ambassadors ,, 317 48. ,, Garden in the Generalife: Fountains Playing t3

Chapter I

New Zealand in 1860, '70, 'So, and '90. — Our Departure from Wellington. —The U.S.S. Co.'s S.S. Mararoa. — Napier. — Gisborne. — Auckland. — Labour Unions. — Maori Curios. — Bay of Islands. — Effects of our civilization on the Maori — Quoits. — Colonial Experience. — Sir George Grey. — Pauper Immigration.- Our Fisherman. — A real Australian night. — My dear Children, — This letter is intended to be a plain and simple account of what I will see in my travels. Many of the facts, descriptions, and ideas related will possibly seem trite and tedious to you as a twice-told tale now ; but keep it long enough, and, like old wine, it will improve in flavour : preserve it through another generation, and it will rise in value to be a worthy leaf of the " History " of the year 1891 of our Lord. I therefore send it to my eldest son, Charles Freeling Reeves, with a request that he keep it carefully, and let me have the pleasure of thinking that, after my life on earth is ended, revering and loving little eyes may read this.

History, as I hope it will be understood in the more enlightened future, and taught in schools, is not a bald, dreary, chronological catalogue of the X B battles and murders of kings, varied occasionally by the intrigues of queens, and the rise and fall of favourites, but a description of the gradual progress of the mass of humanity in art, science, industry, morality, and material comfort, through the right application of the unerring laws of nature ; or of their gradual decline into ignorance, crassness, wickedness, and misery, through a wrong applica tion or a misunderstanding of those laws. History, stated thus, and intelligently perceived by future generations, is to the race what Experience is to the man. A leaflet like this, therefore, out of the history of 1891, may become of great interest by-and-by.

I say this without egotism, because I know a man can only see that which his intelligence is capable of perceiving. It is valuable only as a true record of actual passing life and fact. I began by saying this would be a plain and simple description. It will not be rewritten or touched up, and nothing will be there set down out of guide books, or that I have not actually seen " with mine own eyes." What other people have seen has been far better told elsewhere. It is just thirty years since I arrived in New Zealand from England. Think of that — a whole generation ago ! And I have not been out of the Australian colonies during all that time. It is no wonder, therefore, if I feel my soul stirred at the thought of seeing " Home " again, and if my mental eyes pierce the misty past right back to 1860.

I was a boy then, just Charles' age, and, if I can remember faithfully so far back, the tempered joy NEW ZEALAND — THIRTY YEARS AGO. 3 of my present anticipation is as nothing to the youthful fervour and emotion with which I reached a new country — New Zealand — at the very ends of the earth — unknown, partly untrodden by Euro peans, full of surprises in Maori man, bird, animal, fish, plant, legend, volcano, and wealth. Its progress since 1860 is marvellous. A population of Europeans risen from 80,000 to 620,000 ; imports and exports from .£2,100,000 to 15,000,000; and land under cultivation from 200,000 acres to 8,000,000 acres. But this is as nothing to the progress that will be in the future. As the grand little colony gathers wealth and population, it will rush on at a con stantly increasing rate of progress.

I am glad I made it my home, if only for your sakes. You are fortunate in being born into such a country, and your future is in your own hands. Perhaps the most exciting of the old days were in the " sixties," when gold was first discovered in New Zealand. Before 1861 Dunedin was a douce Scotch settlement, composed mostly of honest, sturdy, poor immigrants, who came, as the saying then was, " to better themselves," and had gathered within its bounds about 4,000 inhabitants. To them in 1861 rushed in one week 8,000 picked adult Victorian c''g'&ers' d'&§sing' store-keepers, merchants, Jews, and speculators. The canny Scotch " old identity " was swallowed up in the " new iniquity," as they mutu ally styled each other. Round Dunedin rose a "canvas town" for miles, and the new career of " go-a-headism " began for the colony.

This was in the South Island. In the North, excitement concentrated itself on Maori wars about Maori lands. The failure of British troops to adapt themselves to Maori warfare, the pluck of the colonial amateur soldiers, the patriotism and honour, from their points of view, of Maoris and noble Maori chiefs on both sides — grand fellows physically and intellectually were the Rangatiras1 — are now matters of history. I know no better sketches of Maori manners, and customs, and deeds during the " sixties " than the papers contributed in series to the New Zealand Monthly Review by Major Gudgeon, Lieutenant-Colonel McDonnell, and others. Read those by all means if you take an interest in your country's history. The next great epoch in New Zealand progress was in the "seventies," when Julius Vogel started the public works policy, borrowed English money, and opening up the interior of the country with roads, bridges, telegraphs, and railways, at once settled the Maori difficulty, and made it possible for the new body of sheep-farmers and agriculturists to take advantage of the era of steam carriage and the frozen meat trade in the " eighties."

New Zealand enters the " nineties " grandly equipped for business. It has many institutions superior to older countries, such as, for hasty ex amples, its Land Transfer Act, Perpetual Lease System of Land Tenure, Criminal Probationers Act, Delayed Telegrams, Government Life In surance, and Public Trust Office. Its youthful industries are carefully fostered by a protective tariff, and signs are already in the heavens that 1 Great native chiefs. NEW ZEALAND IN 1870, '80, AND '90 FREE TRADE. 5 reciprocity of trade is possible in the near future. Reciprocity of trade is the business expression of the admirable old Scotch proverb, " Ca' me, and I'll ca' thee." Theoretically, real, genuine, mutual free trade is perhaps the best form of interchange for necessaries of life ; but without experience of it, there being as yet no such thing in the civilized world as free trade proper, I think it is unwise to speak dicta torially even of it.

How much more unwise then must it be for believers in the partial free trade of England — the offspring of a stern protection — to dictate a commercial system in lands, climates, and amongst people in the colonies of which they know absolutely nothing ; to hurl at young nations, de haut en bas, the silly, narrow old argument : " Why should I pay 3d. for a cabbage if I can buy it for 2\d. ? " The terror of the " yellow agony," as the Chinese, the best market gardeners in the world, are called, soon in practical experience would show them there is a higher law for human souls than the difference between a 2\d. and a 2>d. cabbage. I think it is an error to suppose that colonists of education are mostly believers in such partial free trade. Importers, like the silversmiths of Ephesus, may cry out that their business profits are in danger ; and they have the ear and are often the mouthpiece of the Colonial Chambers of Commerce.

I fancy the majority believe in no universal business nostrum any more than they believe that a quack medicine will cure every disease in every system under every clime, but make for that which under given circumstances appears most likely to bring sufficient food and happiness to the greatest number. New Zealand is my real " home " ; in it are all my household gods and my livelihood, but it is not enough to satisfv a man's whole life-character. My life must now be necessarily short, and I feel it is not complete without such further education and knowledge of the world as thirty years' residence in a new colony has withheld from me. I now travel to learn. This has been the summit of my ambition for years past, and I am about to achieve it. It is no easy matter to leave a large family and a business for an indefinite sojourn on the other side of the world ; but at last, after much planning, everything is satisfactorily arranged, and on the 14th of March- — a Saturday — mother, Frances, and I fairly start off by the Union Steamship Company's crack boat, the Mararoa, for Sydney, via Auckland, to join the Orient liner Ormuz, bound for London, via Suez.

The Mararoa is perhaps the finest steamer of her class in Southern waters. She is 1248 tons net register, and carries 455 passengers at sea, has saloon amidship the whole width of the ship, fitted up with ten dining-tables, organ, and library. On the upper deck is an elegant drawing-room, with piano, couches, mirrors, and otherwise nicely fur nished, at a cost of about £400. The æsthetic fashion has not yet gone out, and the paintings and furnishings are rigorously of the " greeny-yellow " sickly pale cast so affected by the sentimentalists who try to live up to the " light " of a cracked china NEW ZEALAND OUR DEPARTURE FROM WELLINGTON. pot. For my part I prefer the brilliant contrasts of nature harmoniously grouped. " Great is nature, and will prevail." Everywhere are electric lights, cooler than gas or oil, and inodorous, but not as yet quite free from heat.

That will no doubt come by-and-by. There are 120 saloon passengers, adults, 40 children, and 2 " midgets " on board. Besides all you dear ones, many good friends came WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND, IN l8gi to see us off at Wellington wharf. Let me put their names here, that I may not forget them. Mrs. S 1, our true, staunch friend through good and evil times ; Minnie, Hilda, and Blanche H n ; Mr. and Mrs. A. H n ; Mrs. K y and Bertie ; Mr. R s M n, to whom I am indebted for valuable hints on England and music for my guid ance ; W. R n, F. Z b, C. and W. H n, C. R. K. S 1, and my old and faithful storeman, H. B n, who brought Mrs. Reeves a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Dear Sophie burst out crying when she kissed me good-bye, and I had much ado to keep a stiff upper lip myself. It would have required an illuminated address and a presentation of a purse of sovereigns to make me smile at that moment.

Mother and Mrs. S 1 cried tears at each other from the steamer to the wharf, as amid wavings of handkerchiefs, of umbrellas, and listing of hats in final salute, we slowly steamed away. Our New Zealand Meteorological Department under Captain Edwin prophesies a visit at Auck land from the tail (if a circle can be said to have a tail) of a cyclone now raging in Queensland ; but as far as we have gone in two days, calling at Napier and Gisborne, the weather has been phenomenally calm. Napier and Gisborne boast expensive breakwaters, but steamers of the Mararoa class lie at both places in the open roadstead and handle cargo in lighters in the old primitive style. These breakwaters are a long losing* race against Nature. That one at Gisborne especially is said to have cost £40,000, and to be almost useless.

The one. at New Plymouth is a notorious failure. Even the breakwaters at Timaru and Oamaru, where there is a considerable grain traffic, are silting up rapidly ; and meantime there is not even the satis faction of temporary direct profit, the revenue in no case covering interest and expenses of management. It is to be hoped the time will soon come when the Government railways will be run on such a plan as to do away with the necessity of artificial breakwaters in open roadsteads. THE N. Z. U.S.S. CO.'S S.S. MARAROA. 9 Since the great labour strikes throughout Aus tralia and New Zealand in the latter half of 1890, the provedoring and general attendance on board these steamers is not what it used to be, many new and inexperienced hands having replaced the old ones ; but we get on very comfortably for poor folk.

Here I append the day's bill of fare : — 6.30 a.m. Coffee or Tea and Biscuit served in Cabins. 8.30. Breakfast. Porridge and Milk. Fish. Fried Sardines on Toast. Anchovy Toast. Entrees. Grilled Steak and Onions. Hashed Chicken. French Cutlets and Bacon. Boiled and Fried Potatoes. Devilled Mutton. Grilled Bacon and Chips. Sausage Rolls, Irish Stew. Minced Collops. Beef and Rice Curry. Cold Meats. Roast Beef and Mutton. Boiled Mutton. Corned Beef. Salad Lettuce. Marmalade and Jam. Hot Rolls. 1.0 p.m. Lunch. Soups. Mutton Broth. Beef Tea. Fish. Fresh Herrings. Sardines. Hot. Curried Chops and Rice. Veal and Ham Pie. Cold. Roast Beef. Ox Tongue. Boiled Lamb (sic). Corned Beef. German Sausage. Spiced Beef. Boiled Ham. Salads. Tomatoes. Lettuce and Radishes. Beetroot. Pastry. London Buns. Assorted Pastry.

Fruit. Oranges, Apples. Marmalade and Jam. 4.0 p.m. Afternoon Tea. 6.0 p.m. Dinner. Soups. Cock-a-Leekie. Fish. Mullet au Gratin, Sauce Piquante. Entrees. Compote of Pigeons. Chicken and Ham Croquettes. joints. Roast Beef and Horse Radish Roast Lamb and Mint Sauce. Beef a la mode. Corned Mutton and Suet Pudding. Poultry. Boiled Chicken and Beckume Sauce. Vegetables. Vegetable Marrow. French Beans. Baked and Boiled Potatoes. Pastry. Apple Charlotte. Baked Custard. Victoria Sandwich. Compote of Apricots. Dessert. Tea and Coffee. Sunday, March 14th. — We lay all day at Napier in the roadstead, delivering and receiving cargo by lighter, and the vessel being constructively in port no religious services were held on board. Some of the passengers visited Napier in the small steam tender, and in the evening Hymns Ancient and Modern were sung in the saloon for about an hour, between 9 and 10 p.m., to organ accompaniment, by a number of the passengers.

The organ is a Mason and Hamlin's American, and has an excel lent tone when well played and stopped. I hardly think the rising generation of colonists take as much interest in good part-singing as those whose taste for that kind of music was originally cultivated in England. Music has of course taken great strides here as elsewhere, and it is interesting to note how tame and old-fashioned, with a few magnificent exceptions, seem the old English, Irish, and Scotch ballads after the rich, cultivated, scien tific harmonies of later songmakers. Part-sinoino however, is more an art than a science ; and such harmonies as Orpheus Glees and some hymns for example need no scientific improvement, but simply study and delicate taste in performance. My re- CALLING AT NAPIER, GISBORNE, AND AUCKLAND. I I collections of last night's hymn-singing impress this view strongly on my mind.

The great masters in classical music, on the other hand, have few successors in this generation worthy of the name, and colonial choral societies study their oratorios with enthusiasm and good results. The proficiency in fine choral work makes the deficiency in part-singing the more marked. Monday morning we spent at Gisborne roadstead. Here is some of the best land in native grasses in New Zealand, popularly supposed, in patches, to be able to support ten sheep to the acre all the year round — a feat only rivalled by the English-grassed volcanic soil of the Taranaki districts round Mount Egmont. Tuesday morning we sighted the entrance to the Hauraki Gulf about daybreak, and arrived at Auckland shortly after breakfast. It is 45 miles from the entrance of the gulf to Auckland wharf. The weather was calm.

Five or six men-of-war, including the flag-ship Orlando, lay off Auckland. It being St. Patrick's Day and a holiday at Government offices, banks, insurance and wholesale warehouses, and also at some of the large retail establishments, the harbour was alive with excursion steamers and yachts. The beauties of the bay, with its numerous islands, some like great stones hurled into the sea, others indented with inlets and covered with forest growth, delighted me much. As we neared Auckland the hill-sides were studded with villas and gardens, and Rangitoto Island lay right across the entrance to the inner harbour, like a leviathan stretched full length guarding the city from the sea. The hills around Auckland, in the sea and out of it, are nearly all round-topped — one curious little one standing by itself in the sea was shaped just like a bishop's mitre — while in the south of New Zealand the hills and mountains are ruggedly irregular.

Auckland is certainly the queen of South Britain for beauty. Standing on Mount Eden, another round top, with mother and Frances to-day, this great gulf and its islands from River head to the sea on the east, Onehunga Bay on the west, a great extinct crater at our feet, Auckland below, and the greenest of undulating and level suburbs covered with houses and gardens all around fading into blue hills, we gazed long on the interest ing scene, and left it with reluctance. To-day we received what will perhaps be our last communica tion from home till we leave the New Zealand coast. It was a telegram from my firm, wishing us " a pleasant trip." We intend to send them a last good-bye from Russell, Bay of Islands, also one to Mary at New Plymouth, and to you all at home in Austin Street ; then indeed farewell to New Zealand.

It is a beautiful country, in which starvation is un known. During a residence in it of over a quarter of a century, I can safely say I never knew an honest, sober, industrious, healthy man unable to get a comfortable living. It is the paradise of the working man, who is, in material wealth, education, and intelligence, the labour aristocrat of the world. This being so, it may be asked, " What did the labour unions strike for in September, 1890?" They had really no grievance of their own ; but being affiliated with the labour unions of Australia, LABOUR UNIONS — A CRITICISM. 13 where the Seamen's and Maritime Officers' Union were fighting with the employers, they felt bound in honour to support their Australian mates. The strike failed — 1st, Because the grievances were insufficient to command public sympathy. 2nd, Because the unionists committed the same autocratic fault as their opponents.

They made close corporations of their unions, instead of trying to get all well-behaved labourers to join ; so when the pinch came, outsiders, who by an astuter policy would have been with them, were against them, and gladly filled all vacant billets. 3rd, They struck at an inopportune moment, and had not sufficient funds saved to hold out ; and, 4th, Their leaders did not command general con fidence. The past proves, in spite of such failures, that union is absolutely essential to success — nowhere more than with labour. It is the union of labour, and that only, that has achieved and wrested from the powerful such concessions as Free Education for all and Eight Hours as the standard working day. New Zealand has the honour of being the first country in the world that gave these two boons to the poor.

Not only that, but much more important is the fact that the power of the banded workers has forced public opinion and the press in the direction of liberty, and made further advances possible. It is amusing to note how stout conser vatives have drifted down this river of socialism, and insensibly leaving behind the old landmarks and shibboleths, talk enthusiastically, as if to the manner born, of the rights of labour : the land for the people, and the responsibilities of capital ; on the hustings and at public meetings — the very men who a decade before maintained that " no gentleman could hold such opinions, sir ! " and thirty years ago would have assisted to incarcerate in durance vile, with hard labour punishment, such noxious Chartists as they themselves now are. But the time will soon come when all labourers will be well educated and capable of power without abuse.

When knit together in intelligent brother hood for mutual support, a carpenter would as soon think of robbing a church as of taking up the work that a brother carpenter had laid down in the struggle for some great principle of liberty and right. And from the employer's point of view the time will come when it will be no longer an honour, but a shame to wring an enormous share of material wealth out of the necessities of the poor. At the present day American millionaires have made huge fortunes by first cutting down the wages of their fellow-citizens to the lowest point of existence, and then remorselessly superseding them by needy, half starved Poles and Hungarians, who by generations of grinding, like Chinese, live or rather keep alive on less food and comfort. These great employers receive a chorus of adulation, from our hio*hest statesmen downwards, for giving away in charity some of their ill-gotten wealth.