s, the finest. The view from the high
ground, at one end of Collins Street, looking down the hollow of the
road, and right away up the hill on the other side, is very striking.
This grand street, of great width, is probably not less than a mile
long. On either side are the principal bank buildings, tall and
handsome. Just a little way up the hill, on the further side, is a
magnificent white palace-like structure, with a richly ornamented
facade and tower. That is the New Town Hall. Higher up is a fine
church spire, and beyond it a red brick tower, pricked out with
yellow, standing in bold relief against the clear blue sky. You can
just see Bourke and Wills' monument there, in the centre of the
roadway. And at the very end of the perspective, the handsome grey
front of the Treasury bounds the view.

Amongst the peculiarities of the Melbourne streets are the deep, broad
stone gutters, on either side of the roadway, evidently intended for
the passage of a very large quantity of water in the rainy season.
They are so broad as to render it necessary to throw little wooden
bridges over them at the street-crossings. I was told that these open
gutters are considered by no means promotive of the health of the
inhabitants, which one can readily believe; and it is probable that
before long they will be covered up.

Walk over Collins and Bourke Street at nine or ten in the morning, and
you meet the business men of Melbourne on their way from the
railway-station to their offices in town: for the greater number of
them, as in London, live in the suburbs. The shops are all open,
everything looking bright and clean. Pass along the same streets in
the afternoon, and you will find gaily-dressed ladies flocking the
pathways. The shops are bustling with customers. There are many
private carriages to be seen, with two-wheeled cars, on which the
passengers sit back to back, these (with the omnibuses) being the
public conveyances of Melbourne. Collins Street may be regarded as the
favourite promenade; more particularly between three and four in the
afternoon, when shopping is merely the excuse of its numerous
fashionable frequenters.

One thing struck me especially--the very few old or grey-haired people
one meets with in the streets of Melbourne. They are mostly young
people; and there are comparatively few who have got beyond the middle
stage of life. And no wonder. For how young a city Melbourne is! Forty
years since there was not a ho