Part 75 (2/2)
”I see the sunny slopes below me yellow with trellissed vines. They have gathered the vintage, and I hear them singing at the wine-press.
They sing that the exhausted vineyards of the old world yield no wine so rare, so rich, as the fresh volcanic slopes of the southern continent, and that the princes of the earth send their wealth, that their hearts may get glad from the juice of the Australian grapes.
”Beyond I see fat black ridges grow yellow with a thousand cornfields.
I see a hundred happy homesteads, half-hidden by cl.u.s.tering wheatstacks. What do they want with all that corn? say you; where is their market?
”There is their market! Away there on the barren forest ranges. See, the timber is gone, and a city stands there instead. What is that on the crest of the hill? A steam-engine; nay, see, there are five of them, working night and day, fast and busy. Their cranks gleam and flash under the same moon that grew red and lurid when old Mirngish vomited fire and smoke twenty thousand years ago. As I listen I can hear the grinding of the busy quartz-mill. What are they doing? you ask. They are gold-mining.
”They have found gold here, and gold in abundance, and hither have come, by s.h.i.+p and steams.h.i.+p, all the unfortunate of the earth. The English factory labourer and the farmer-ridden peasant; the Irish pauper; the starved Scotch Highlander. I hear a grand swelling chorus rising above the murmur of the evening breeze; that is sung by German peasants revelling in such plenty as they never knew before, yet still regretting fatherland, and then I hear a burst of Italian melody replying. Hungarians are not wanting, for all the oppressed of the earth have taken refuge here, glorying to live under the free government of Britain; for she, warned by American experience, has granted to all her colonies such rights as the British boast of possessing.”
I did not understand him then. But, since I have seen the living wonder of Ballarat, I understand him well enough.
He ceased. But the Major cried out, ”Go on, Doctor, go on. Look farther yet, and tell us what you see. Give us a bit more poetry while your hand is in.”
He faced round, and I fancied I could detect a latent smile about his mouth.
”I see,” said he, ”a vision of a nation, the colony of the greatest race on the earth, who began their career with more advantages than ever fell to the lot of a young nation yet. War never looked on them.
Not theirs was the lot to fight, like the Americans, through bankruptcy and inexperience towards freedom and honour. No. Freedom came to them, Heavensent, red-tape-bound, straight from Downing-street. Millions of fertile acres, gold in bushels were theirs, and yet----”
”Go on,” said the Major.
”I see a vision of broken railway arches and ruined farms. I see a vision of a people surfeited with prosperity and freedom grown factious, so that now one party must command a strong majority ere they can pa.s.s a law the goodness of which no one denies. I see a bankrupt exchequer, a drunken Governor, an Irish ministry, a----”
”Come down out of that,” roared the Major, ”before I pull you down.
You're a pretty fellow to come out for a day's pleasure! Jeremiah was a saint to him,” he added, turning appealingly to the rest of us. ”Hear my opinion, 'per contra,' Doctor. I'll be as near right as you.”
”Go on, then,” said the Doctor.
”I see,” began the Major, ”the Anglo-Saxon race--”
”Don't forget the Irish, Jews, Germans, Chinese, and other barbarians,”
interrupted the Doctor.
”a.s.serting,” continued the Major, scornfully, ”as they always do, their right to all the unoccupied territories of the earth.”
(”Blackfellow's claims being ignored,” interpolated the Doctor.)
”And filling all the harbours of this magnificent country----”
(”Want to see them.”)
”With their steams.h.i.+ps and their sailing vessels. Say there be gold here, as I believe there is, the time must come when the mines will be exhausted. What then? With our coals we shall supply----”
(”Newcastle,” said the Doctor, again.)
”The British fleets in the East Indies----”
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