of 'all sorts and conditions of men' are more cheerful, and less careworn
and anxious. You can see that bread-and-butter never enters into the
cares of these people; it is only the cake which is sometimes endangered.
or has not sufficient plums in it.

SYDNEY.

I suppose that nearly everyone has heard of the beauties of Sydney
Harbour--'our harbour,' as the Sydneyites fondly call it. If you want a
description of them read Trollope's book. He has not exaggerated an iota
on this point. Sydney Harbour is one of those few sights which, like
Niagara, remain photographed on the memory of whoever has been so
fortunate as to see them. With this difference, however--the impression
of Niagara is instantaneous; it stamps itself upon you in a moment, and
though further observation may make the details more clear, it cannot add
to the depth of the impressions. But Sydney Harbour grows upon you. At
the first glance I think you will be a little disappointed. It is only as
you drink in each fresh beauty that its wonderful loveliness takes
possession of you. The more you explore its creeks and coves--forming
altogether 260 miles of shore--the more familiar you become with each
particular headland or reach, the greater your enchantment. You fall in
love with it, so to speak, and often I look up at the water-colour sketch
of Double Bay which hangs over my dining-room mantelpiece, and hope the
hope which partakes of expectation, that before long I shall see Sydney
Harbour again.

And it is as admirable from a practical as from an artistic point of
view. The _Austral_ and the _Orient_ can be moored alongside natural
wharves in the very heart of the city. There are coves sufficient to hold
the combined fleets of the world, mercantile and naval. The outer harbour