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 is, the parties who are foremost in the endeavour to inundate us with workers look only to the depreciation of labour as the sure result. They have been accustomed to having the convict's toil for nothing, and they cannot bring their minds to paying for that of the free man. Hence they would fain have the poor coolie from India, bound to them for a number of years—a slave in everything but in name. You will be kind enough to excuse my rambling and blundering manner of writing. I have much to say but have not time to think about it just now. I propose writing you descriptions of my walks about the town, and of different characters I meet with here, as I think this kind of minute description of what comes under my own observation will interest you more than any general account of the country which I am able to give you. There is a man now passing before my eyes well worth describing.

Imagine yourself standing by me on the deck of a small schooner lying in Sydney harbour. There is a miserable-looking old man paddling an old canoe from the Sydney side to the opposite shore. The face is unshorn, and his beard and hair are as white as snow. As his vessel glides over the sunny waters he casts his