know that the continuance of their freedom depends on their reputation.

[Illustration: SYDNEY.]

The city, built on the south side of a beautiful lake, is perfectly
unique in design, being composed of five broad promontories, looking
like the five fingers of a hand slightly expanded. All the important
streets run from east to west, and each terminates in a distinct harbor,
while clearly visible from the upper portion of the street is a grand
moving panorama of vessels of every description, with masts, sails and
colors that seem peering out from every interstice between the houses.
Each day witnesses the arrival and departure of eight or ten steamers,
ferry-boats leave every half hour all the principal landings for the
various sections of the city, and the wharves are lined with the
shipping of every nation, many of the vessels ranging from fifteen
hundred to two thousand tons burden. On a huge rock in Watson's Bay
stands the lighthouse at the entrance of Port Jackson. The sea lashes
the black rock with ceaseless fury, the light from the summit rendering
even the base visible at a great distance. The light is 350 feet above
the level of the sea, yet it was almost under its very rays that the
good ship Dunbar came to grief. Missing the passage, she was engulfed in
the raging sea, and her three hundred and ninety passengers perished in
full view of the homes they were seeking.

Orange and almond trees, with other tropical plants, loaded with
blossoms and fruit, beautify the lowlands, while in more elevated
localities are found the fruits and foliage of the temperate zone, very
many of them exotics brought by the settlers from their English homes.
Down to the very water's edge extends the verdure of tree and shrub,
overshadowing to the right Fort Jackson, and to the left Middle Harbor.