Yet the citizens of Sydney need not fear comparison of their beloved city with any other in the world, except, as I have said, in the matter of the roads and the noise of the trolley-cars. The buildings are truly splendid, the two chief, the Post Office and the Town Hall, being certainly the finest in the whole of Australasia, and worthy to take rank with any similar buildings at home. Indeed, it is nothing short of marvellous how so comparatively small a population can manage to erect and maintain such splendid buildings as these, and many others which greet the eye on every hand. It has been said, and I believe with truth, that the vast majority of the Australasian population is to be found in the cities and towns on the seaboard, engaged in the work of distributing the imports and exports. But if this be true, what amazing energy must be manifested by the people "out back" who produce, and what would be the condition of these cities if only they had a population behind them able to cope with the teeming wealth of the soil? Which raises again the eternal question of population of this vast country--a country which has as yet only been played with, but which has shown such immense productive capacity, that its possibilities fairly stagger calculation, supposing them to be dealt with intelligently.
That, however, seems past praying for--as yet, at any rate. Can you imagine anything more unutterably foolish, short-sighted--oh! the dictionary does not contain adjectives to fit the situation--than the action of the Government which has been presented to all the world this week? The Japanese squadron, of which I wrote in Melbourne, has arrived here, and has been received with a perfect tempest of acclamations, both by Press and people, with the sole exceptions of the _Bulletin_, which in its charmingly witty and brilliant manner persistently refers to the heroes of Port Arthur and Tsutshima as "monkeys," and one other newspaper, of which I can only say that its publication is a disgrace to New South Wales, and would be a disgrace to Paris, which is not squeamish. At ball and banquet and reception the Japanese were rightly received with immense enthusiasm--a reception they have earned by their deeds, if ever men did. All honour to Australasia that, in spite of its intense dread of and antipathy to the yellow people, has thus recognised transcendent merit, both in civic and martial virtues. But while these festivities were going on, there happened to enter Port Jackson a certain steamship, the _Pacifique_, conveying six Japanese passengers to Japan. They were to be transferred to the _Kumanu Maru_, a fine mail steamer of the Nippon Yusen Kaisha, lying at the Circular Quay, but as their period of waiting extended over three days, they were naturally anxious to see the sights of Sydney and witness the reception accorded to their countrymen. They were not allowed to land! In spite of the fact that they were in transit, were clear of all suspicion of disease or anything of the sort, they were forbidden to set foot upon the sacred soil of Australia, where their naval heroes were being treated as demigods. Comment here is impertinence, but it may be pointed out that not one man in authority appeared to think that possibly a few of the 2,000 Japanese who were being thus _fêted_ and made much of might be taking voluminous notes of this occurrence, and compiling a bill to be presented in the near future. I ventured to point this out to several influential people, who admitted that it savoured of idiocy on the part of the powers that be, but also gave me to understand that it was none of my business, and that when the time came for that bill to be presented, they and the Australasian States might be trusted to--although they didn't use these exact words--muddle through it somehow. Which gave me quite a pang of home-sickness, for I recognise the speakers as veritable chips of the old block.