EPIC OF THE EXPRESS.

I.

Up from the vale he strode; October gloom
Made all below a crypt where Echo went
Soft-footed like a sacristan-a tomb

Of grey leaves huddled as if pestilent,
Stricken swiftly, and with haste forsaken, dead.
Above, the vault rock-pillared hung like rock.
He stood where southward bends the river-bed,
Spanned by a viaduct whose arches mock
The chasm within the mountains; all of time
The day has crept minutely up the crest
To left, then plunged below, again to climb
The bluff opposing, as the god goes west.
But Man has built a bridge, outstripped the years,
Laughed at the valley and the snarling stream
Which frets about those adamantine piers.

For Nature ever wakes, but Man may dreamThis is his glory and strength.

Now does the cloud

Burst; and the watcher stoops to the hurricane;

Blinded, he hears the tempest shout aloud

When in the leaping vortex of the rain All light is sucked. The billows of the sky Sweep onward ever to quell; the pines go down, The river, smitten, as a feudatory

Bears ruin now herself. Upon the crown

Of a huge headland at length stayed the storm.

II.

Then from beneath the shelter of an oak The man came forth, and saw the sun inform The desolate valley with a wizard's stroke;

A purple spirit moved about the things

Oft seen he yet knew not, and fancy's elves Shot through the sunbeams on their silvern wings, Making the scene unreal as themselves.

He sees amid the shifting smoke of light
A mountain scarred, uprooted forest trees,
The blazing Hinnom of the Israelite-

Water and vale aflame; a world he sees,
By forces of the world destroyed, and them
Spent in destroying (as that flower once pluckt
Of Grecian henbane). 'Tis the diadem,

He said, of Death! when lo! the viaduct,
Grave, simple, on its chorded structure strong,
Rose through the exhalation's fantasy

Like truth, established, or the steadfast song
Of one, of peril scornful or to die,
Undeviating.

And the watcher cried

It is the bridge of Life; for Man has made Sole in this valley and yon prospect wide A way for brotherhood; he disobeyed The voices of the mountain and the flood, The passionate bidding of the mountain winds, Which work by conflict-Man of wiser mood Is still creating; Nature ever finds Her highest beauty in her own disease:

In shattered rock and troubled watercourse, Lightning, and when the cheerless marshes freeze, The piercing icicle. Oh, say what source

All elemental fury far beyond,

What fount of wisdom planned this granite arch: This usefuller promontory, sweeter bond?

III.

And halt! ye hidden forces in your march,
Ye winds and waters, frost and lightning, stand!
For I will match you with another might,
Strong as yourselves, yet pliant to command.
For it this bridge was reared, and the height
Of hills made low, or tunnelled craftily;

For it men pondered till the stars would sink,
Much giving and much hoping, silently.

They planned the uncouth engine, and a link

Was forged between the nations. Conquering swords Have hewn an Empire-and we weep for Rome! Now is the railway mightier than the lords

Of slaughter, that expands the sway of home. Almost a poet is the man who binds,

Destroying distance only, and the long ache
Of absence.

Hark! what sound is this that winds
Shrilly along the moor? The echoes wake.
It is the swift train, spearing with the shock
Of Ottoman squadrons on the broken Giaour,
Shot like a fiery torrent from the rock :
Niagaran moment, utterly with power!

A. F. WALLIS.

631

HOUSEHOLD BUDGETS ABROAD.

V. AUSTRALIA.

BY MRS. B. R. WISE.

a. £600 a Year.

IT has been somewhere said that though 'Money does not make happiness, it is difficult, in married life, to be happy without money.' Certainly the question 'How much is necessary for comfort?' opens up a wide field for discussion. Remember poor Rosamond in Miss Edgeworth's well-known tale, and her distress when the silver paper would not go round her filagree basket. Either the basket was too large or the piece of paper too small. By which hangs Mr. Micawber's moral: 'Annual income, twenty pounds; annual expenditure, nineteen six; result, happiness. Annual income, twenty pounds; annual expenditure, twenty pounds ought and sixpence; result, misery.' In trying to estimate the average proportion of expenses to an income in Australia it is very difficult to generalise, since each profession has its own expenses and exactions. Those who marry on a fixed income are able to arrange their expenditure more easily than persons who belong to professions, where the income varies according to fees. With the fixed income a certain sum can be set aside for savings and investments; while lawyers, doctors, and other professional men find it advisable to leave a margin of at least £100, so that there may be something to fall back on in bad years. A prolonged drought, for instance, will affect all classes of the community; but they suffer most in actual money loss who have no fixed income.

Let us imagine the case of a young couple who marry on £600 a year (a sum which, it must be borne in mind, is equivalent to rather less than £500 in England), and try to ascertain approximately how people who have a certain position to keep up can manage to live on this income in a town like Sydney or Melbourne. Where a man has led a comfortable bachelor life at his club, and a girl been brought up in a luxurious home, with an unlimited dress allowance and occasional trips to Europe, it needs both courage and self-denial to forgo so-called pleasures and settle down in a small house on a smaller income. It says much for human nature

that there are not a few who do this with success. We shall try to show how this is done.

The first consideration is always that of rent. Here let me say that in Australia we have to abandon the theory that one-tenth of the income should be devoted to house rent. Rents are high, and for a suitable house in a pleasant neighbourhood our young couple must be prepared to give at least £70 a year. Certain advantages are worth paying for, so that to take a cheap house, far away from friends and business acquaintances, is not necessarily true economy, because a greater distance from town means higher cab fares and more time spent in going to and from one's work. It should also be recognised that the smaller the society you live in, the more it is advisable to be in and of it; and your friends will not thank you for giving them a long tram ride or a tedious walk whenever they wish to see you. Not half enough care is bestowed on the choice of a house. Otherwise we should know much less of the peculiarly Australian characteristic known as removing.' The holy horror with which a house-moving is regarded in England is a contrast to the unpremeditated fashion in which, in Australia, people migrate from one abode to another. With their household goods exposed to the light of day in open carts a house-flitting seems a very trivial affair; for, strangely enough, though large furniture vans can be had, they are seldom used. Moving is at no time a cheap form of amusement, but the cost of carrying furniture away roped, in light carts, is much less than when skilled workmen tactfully bear it off in discreet covered vans. An old resident was heard to say, that among all his Sydney acquaintances, there was only one family occupying the same house in which they lived twenty years ago, when he began his married life. All the same, our young couple will do well to select a house they mean to live in for some time to come. Farther out in the suburbs charming cottages at lower rents are to be had. But, unless you have friends in any particular part, a young wife will find the long, hot summer days very lonely; and as it is she, and not her husband, who spends most time at home, I always maintain that the wife has the first claim for consideration in the choice of a house. There are, of course, cheaper districts in which it would be quite possible to live; but, unless a young couple intend to give up society altogether—which from professional, and perhaps other points of view, is a mistake-it is better to live among your own kind. Rates and taxes are generally paid by the landlord. These