Thamanampalli Surekha

encumbering themselves with too much furniture on the voyage, we could not but sympathise with Miss Bessy, who sat down to her old piano and played us a tune, with an affection for the instrument which was quite charming. There is one public structure in Melbourne deserving of notice, and that is the Prince's Bridge. This bridge is thrown over the river about 500 yards above the dam, and is a great ornament to the city. It is built of very hard stone of a most durable kind. The span of its single arch is but a few feet less than the centre arch of London Bridge, and the balustrade is very handsome. The causeway to this arch, over the flat land on the opposite side of the river to the town, is a considerable lenght, having under it several small arches to carry off the floods, which are sometimes very heavy, making, as we were informed, a fair breach over the flat land between the river and Hobson Bay. Below the bridge the river is dammed up, in order to keep back the tide and secure to the inhabitants a supply of fresh water. Crossing over the bridge, you come to South Melbourne on the map, although in reality there is nothing in the shape of buildings to warrant this title to the land across the river, from the circumstance that no buildings have been erected there, in consequence of the inundations to which it is liable. These inundations do not occur in the winter season, when the greatest amount of rain falls in Victoria, but in the middle of summer, and they are caused by the melting of the snow on the Australian Alps, from whence the Yarra-Yarra derives its source. Much damage is annually committed by the flood amongst the farms on the banks of the river. In December 1842 the government submitted the allotments of this section of Melbourne to public competition, which was duly announced in the Gazette to take place upon the ground on a certain day in that month. During the night preceding that day the river rose and overflowed the bank, covering the ground, which the surveyors had pegged out, many feet deep with water. When the intending purchasers came down in the morning to view the land announced for sale, they saw nothing from the punt which ferried them across but water, and although they considered water frontage a great desideratum in the value of land, yet water abovage, it we may be pardoned the term, was rather too much of a good thing for them. This, of course, stopped the sale, so that excepting some half-acre allotments fenced in upon the rising ground behind, this part of Melbourne has been merely used as brickfields. Proceeding from the bridge in a southerly direction, you come to the beach mentioned upon our first arrival in Hobson Bay. There is a pretty good road for a few hundred yards after you cross over the causeway, but the remainder of the way is along an old forest tracks at one place through a swamp, at another through drift- sand. Near the town this tract of land is thinly covered with gum-trees, but as you approach the beach, these give way to the bottle-brush, and other shrubs and trees which grow on the sandy shores of Australia. The beach itself, where boats land from the shipping in Hobson Bay opposite, is desolate-looking spot at the best, notwithstanding the presence of two inns and a number of wooden tenements. At the time we visited this place, and passed over the flat lant on the south side of the river, there were no tents erected by the newly-arrived emigrants. Since then, we learn by the latest accounts that many thousands are encamped there, who either cannot obtain shelter in the town, or the town, or do not possess the means of paying for accommodation. This has been always the case with newly-arrived immigrants on the Australian shores. They will huddle together like sheep upon the most convenient spot to their last abode, and nearest the principle town, apparently afraid of venturing further inland. We would advise these people to proceed without delay to some of the smaller townships in the interior, where they will have a better chance of commencing colonial life in earnest, than looking bewildered upon the bustling throng of the city. We have observed that many immigrants, upon their arrival in these colonies, more especially from the middle classes of society, are too chary in entering upon any project, or applying for any situation, they prefer waiting a little to look about them. Such prudent caution is no doubt commendable, but as it is better to be looking about and doing something at the same time, we would advise such persons to pursue their avocations without delay, and accept the first likely situation that offers, even although such employment or speculation yields small profit for the first twelve months. In mingling thus at the earliest opportunity in the business of the colony, they are merely serving an apprenticeship to coloniallife-what is graphically termed becoming "colonialised." We would strongly impress upon the mind of every man and woman bent upon the voyage, the necessity of coming to a prudent decision on the matter before leaving this country. After maturely considering the propriety of the step they are taking, husband and wife, brother and sister, ought to be of one mind, they should then shake off all wavering and pursue their way to the land of their adoption cheerfully, or not at all. If they have any lingering doubts as to the prudence of their act, they had better give it in favour of the mother country, and remain behind, for those who carry doubts with them, will most assuredly find them rankle in their mind there, and they will tend to suppress that energy and cheerfulness which are