IMPRESSIONS OF VICTORIA.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1504, 7 October 1865, Page 3

IMPRESSIONS OF VICTORIA.

♦ — No. in. (From the Argus.) There is one point of resemblance—and only one, so far as I know—between Bourke street and the ruins of Melrose Abbey : " The broad glare of lightsome day " does not show either of them off to the best advantage. It is true that Bourke street contains a large number of shops and other buildings that have no reason to be ashamed of themselves in any light; but a neighbourhood that is a good deal dependent on theatrical entertainments and the oyster trade for its prosperity, generally looks its best by gas-light. The entrance to a theatre rarely appears attractive at high noon. I don't want to say anything disparaging of theatres, for in a good play toy soul delights ; but in the daytime a theatre does too often look as if it had been up very late last night, and had not felt at all equal to washing and dreßsing itself and combing its hair this morning. Inside the theatre, of course, the contrast is worse, and to any one not professionally case-hardened to it, one of the most depressing excursions in the world is to be made by stumbling along obscure passages into the back-slums of a realm of dazzling delight before gas-rise. Your oyster, loo—that persistent theatrical hanger-on—though a good creature at all times, has some bad habits, and is essentially a midnixht flsh ; the establishments where he is purveyed, lay themselves out mainly out for a nocturnal traffic, and the attendants that open him do their office in a languid and perfunctory manner during the daytime. The oyster, " Like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night." It is at the hour when churchyards yawn that the attractive bivalve opens his shelly portals most readily. It is for the crowd that has had its tendere9t sympathies touched by the tragic art, and that rushes forth to relieve itself with oysters, that the oyster-openers show themselves the men they really are, and, rising with the occasion, insert their knives with unerring certainty into the exact spot in the shells at the rate of who can say how many in a minute. To such exhausting efforts of genius there must succeed a reactionary langour, that, as a matter of fact, does pervade ordinary oyster shops in the day time.

But although acting and oyster-opening are the most representative industries of certain portions of Bourke street, it is the home of many others of scarcely inferior importance. It appears to be the chosen centre from which radiate in all directions those two-wheeled one-horsed dos a dos cars which, in obedience to some yet unexplained law of nature, are the representative public vehicles of Melbourne. This fact illustrates the hold that a habit gets upon a street, In the early days of the gold discoveries it was invariably from Bourke street that one started on the perilous journey to Bendigo or Ballurat. It was in Bourke street, a short time later, that the astounded new chum flrst saw Yankee drivers tooling six or eight in hand teams : and though the railways have now, it seems, destroyed this romance, the traditionary feeling that Bourke street is the right place to start from to any • where still lingers in the public mind, and the road continues to be crowded with lowbacked cars. It is still essentially a "horsey" street, and the horse-dealers still most affect the portion of it that lies to the westward of Elizabeth street. But this part of Bourke stroet is not the place it was some years ngo. Then Melbourne was the grand centre—the one town in ihe colony—and to buy a horse was the natural preliminary to starting for the interior. Ten years ago the western Bourke Btreet hill, that rises from the valley of Elizabeth street, was at all hours of everyday busy with a peculiar traffic. Critically.watched i horses were for ever occupied in dragging up

that hill carts laden with a given number of ha'f-hundred weights. That particular rise was devoted to proving the staunchness of draught horses. Thiß traffic appears now to have entirely ceased, probably because but little heavy merchandise is now drawn out of Melbourne by horse teams ; and the trial of equine staunchness has been removed to townships further a-fleld. Perhaps a good leal of the decided decrease in the bustle of Melbourne streets which I notice is to be attributed to the same cause. The general architecture of Bourke street in its busiest portion seems to have undergone but little change. It belongs mainly to the mediaeval period—say 1854—when buildings were put up in too good a style to be summarily pulled down, but yet not up to the mark of later Melbourne conceptions. But talking of Bourke street architectural im-

provements, what that is adequate can be said about the New Post-offlcethat is being erected at the corner of Bourke street and Elizabeth street ? It is some time sjnee I was in London, but my impression is that the Post office in Bourke street is a good deal bigger than the one in St. Martin's-le-Grand. That, however, is a mere matter of " odious comparison." But it does strike one that, if the wretched wooden shed which has done duty for a post-office for so many years has been sufficient even for a makeshift, the great stone pile of building now in course of erection must be much in exceßs of real requirements. Considered as a building, however, the Bourke street Post-office will probably be altogether the finest structure completed in Australia.

Apart from the many clali.us to attention already mentioned, Bourke street possesses another. If you want political orations— whether from the stump or the regular Parliamentary article—-this is the street to come to. For the Houses of Parliament, if not actually in Bourke street, look down it or, at all events, turn a blind, unfinished, and according to some, a too typical bluestone and brick countenance down the busy avenue that looks best by gaslight; and from any part of Bourke street the Melbourne citizen can cast his grateful eyes upon the building in which, as a stranger, I am given to understand, so much has latterly been done for the welfare of all classes, the development of trade, and the peace, order, and good government or the colony generally. The other great centre of Bourke street oratory is the Eastern Market, where a distinct political school developed itself some years since. I believe the manners of the scholars— " Wanted that repose That stamps the cast of Vere de Vere;" and that they used to criticise unpopular speakers with refuse vegetables a good deal. But why are market-places chosen for indignation meetings except for the facilities of this kind that they afford ? At present both the Houses of Parliament and the Eastern Market are somewhat dull. No meetings are being held in the latter; and as to the former —as I have avoided politics—l scarcely know why it is that Parliament, being in session, meets so seldom. I suppose that everything

is in such capital order just now, that the machinery of the state works itself, and the wheels hardly even want occasional greasing.

Perhaps some of these days I shall thoroughly understand how much the community is indebted to the existing Government. At present, however, Ido not; and, therefore, quit the subject. On the whole, Great Bourke street is, perhaps, the public-house-iest street in the world. There are public-houses of all sorts, and sizes, and kinds. There is the simple, normal, colonial public-house, the flaring and avowed gin-palace, the restaurant, with public-house as an auxiliary, the casino, and, I don't doubt, a score of other distinctive public-houses, with valuable specialties known to the initiated. At all events, the number of public-houses in this part of the town is amazing. The inan who " can't pass a publichouse " would certainly find his progress very slow and devious along this thoroughfare, although his expenditure would not need to be very large, as most of the public-houses announce, in large letters, "All drinks, 3d! " —a statement the accuracy of which I doubt, and purpose testing with a demand for sherry and sodawater. But in this inscription, and in many others that I see about the streets, I notice abundant evidences of the presence of a far more economical spirit than used to prevail here. I remember the time when persons who did not profess to be at all " flash " never took copper change in Melbourne, the simple reason being, that until you had accumulated a most inconvenient weight of that metal, you could do nothing with it. But now, on

the contrary, with threepence you can do something — with sixpence much. Indeed, Melbourne is certainly acquiring the character of a large city in this important respect—that there are classes of persons who cater for the possessors of all kinds of incomes. It appears to me, that in Melbourne now—as in London

—you can cut your coat according to your cloth exactly. There it is the easiest thing in the world to spend any number of thousands a-year, but, on the other hand, a man can live on a very few shillings a week, if he lays down his lines rigidly for that purpose. Every income has its own set of caterers, and he need not even practice the economy of the Frenchman, who declared it to be a mistake to suppose London to be an expensive place, as he had procured a capital dinner of cold " rosbif " for a halfpenny, from a man with a barrow, and who served his customers with meat stuck upon a skewer—the distinguished foreigner, having, unconsciously, got a little in advance of his age, and become a hipphophagist malgre lui. But here in Melbourne there is now abundant scope for either extravagance or economy. Since I have been here I have " victualled and liquored up " at a fresh place almost every day, and I find the tariff varies much. Of course you can't get your " rosbif" for a half-penny at Scott's Hotel. If you could, you could not expect to have the company of such a man as I encountered there, and who was decidedly the most military-looking swell ever seen out of the realms of genteel comedy. I have not the least idea who he was, but I admired him so much I must notice him. There must have been some military spectacle going on that day, for the element was largely represented, and there were several men about in a uniform, of which the hat struck me most. It was a black hat with no.crown, and what seemed a long red nightcap poking out at the top. But the object of my admiration had on a sort of cavalry undress, and he came up on a horse that he handed over with fierce admonitions to a big sullen-looking man —a trooper in plain clothes, by the look of him— and then clattering his brass spurs, and twirling his moustachios, and with his cap very much on one side, he advanced a few steps, turned round and scowled, first at the sullen-looking man, and then at the world at large, and then scowled and clattered into the hotel. It was the best thing of the sort I ever saw off the stage. Well, of course, if you want society like that at your lunch, you must pay for it. But I have found places where, for a couple of shillings, you can get a well-cooked and abundant meal, Berved in a spacious roor " on a marble table, and at another place (to borrow an idioni from Mr. Artemus Ward), I put myself outsido the cheapest six-penn orth of food and drink that I ever engulfed. For that sixpence I got ft fair tumbler full of nice — well, at all events, not nasty—light colonial wine, and a sufficiency of cold beef, salad, and cheese, for any one intending to dine again later in the day. Decidedly Melbourne , is much cheaper than it used to be. lam satisfied that in Bourke street alone you may get a good meal, a warm bath, your hair cut, and your head brushed by machinery till you are ready to scream,your portrait taken, your tooth out, and half-a-dozen shots in a rifle gallery for less money than a dozen years Lo you would have had to pay for one fair feed in an eating-house of the period. Advance Australia!