hot sun day after day, they become very dry, and consequently leak
when wanted for use. If the captain was bound to keep the boats
seaworthy as distinct from the ship, he would be more careful to
have them tested now and then. Mr. Wm. Smith, of Sydney, has
recently invented a life-boat, which, it has been proved, cannot be
upset. He has offered it freely to the Government, but owing to
differences with some officials of the Marine Board, it has never
received a fair trial at their hands. The recent loss of life at
sea will not have been entirely useless, if it directs public
attention to his most valuable invention. The harbour of Sydney has
been often described, and I will not attempt to do so, especially as
all descriptions of scenery are unsatisfactory. They seldom convey
any definite impression, and a good photograph is better than any
number of them. However, it disputes with that of Rio Janeiro, the
name of the "finest harbour in the world"--whatever that may mean
exactly. In shape it somewhat resembles a huge octopus, the
innumerable creeks and inlets branching out like so many feelers,
yet there can scarcely be said to be a centre from which they
radiate. Numberless steamers ply all day to various points, mostly
starting from the "Circular Quay," the principal wharf of the city.
Small steamers rush in everywhere up the smallest rivers, and have
to be of the lightest draught. In the summer many of the rivers are
dry. The captain of one, not to be outbid by his rival, advertised
to start "the next heavy dew."

I spent many of my days in Sydney in exploring the harbour, by the
aid of steamers, but to see it adequately would require many weeks.
Watson's Bay is near the South Head. Close by is the "Gap," where
the City of Dunbar was wrecked on the 20th August, 1857. The
anniversary of the day is kept. The Captain, steering straight for
the entrance as he thought, ran upon the rocks. There was only one
survivor, who was thrown upon a ledge of rock, and was not found for
two days. The ship was full of colonists returning home, and the
calamity threw nearly all Sydney into mourning. There is now a
lighthouse near at hand, with a magnificent electric light, which
can be seen thirty miles away. At Manly Beach, near the North Head,
is a fine sandy tract; it is a favourite bathing-place, and round
about are many pretty villas. A young clergyman, recently come from
England as _locum tenens_ to an absent vicar, was then at M