long. By opening the interior of the continent it will render possible direct trans-continental communication between Sydney and Port Darwin. If this road were constructed, what is virtually a new continent would be opened to English trade; while the trade between India and Australia would assume vast proportions. It is not even unreasonable to suppose that, when the line to Port Darwin and the line through the Euphrates valley are constructed, direct communication between Sydney and London could be made in eighteen days. Even at present, while the English syndicate that shall construct these lines is yet playing in the cradle with other toys than scrip and tools, the possibility of such developments suggests much to those who follow Australian affairs, and tends to lift our politics from the provincial category. The Land Question, in one form or another, comes up in every Parliament. How to reconcile the conflicting interests of the pastoral and agricultural classes, how to encourage settlement in the dry districts, how to provide for the extermination of pests both vegetable and animal, how to secure that the profit of State expenditure shall not pass entirely into the pockets of a few fortunate landowners-these are all questions which would tax the highest administrative skill, and which have a true and permanent social importance.

Nor should the second of our great public questions be without attraction for all students of public affairs. New South Wales and Victoria have furnished the world with a great lesson in the merits of the rival fiscal policies of Freedom and Restriction. Starting together as Free Trade Colonies, Victoria, after twenty years of Freedom, adopted a policy of Commercial Restriction. At the time she made the change in 1866, she had every advantage over the older Colony. She was 200,000 ahead in population; she had 1,000,000l. a year more revenue; her external trade was 8,000,000l. a year larger; her area of cultivated land was

larger by 150,000 acres; she was the equal of New South Wales in shipping and far ahead of her in manufactures. Since 1866 the two Colonies have pursued their courses along the same lines in nearly all respects, except as to their fiscal policies. If anything, the conditions have been more favourable to Victoria than to New South Wales. The former has a compact, well-watered territory, with fertile land close to the sea-board and to the markets. New South Wales has a wide expanse of territory exposed to periodic droughts, with nearly all the good land lying at a distance of two hundred miles from the sea-board. Victoria had a political disturbance in 1876, but since that time has been singularly well governed. New South Wales has been exposed to the worst and most protracted drought known in this century, a drought which has lasted with varying degrees of intensity for seven years, and during which eight millions of sheep perished from starvation in a single year. These two disturbances may fairly be set off one against the other. In other respects the Colonies have had the same means of progress, though Victoria was able to use them earlier. Taking the period between 1866 and 1888 there is no great difference between the two Colonies in the expenditure on public works of monies received from the sale of Crown lands and from loans; for, although in the totals New South Wales seems to have received from these sources about eight million pounds more than Victoria, she has not had over the whole period the use of so much as her southern neighbour. Victoria both borrowed money and sold her lands earlier than New South Wales, and so has had the same advantage over her of using a larger amount of public money that an individual would have, who had borrowed 1001. a year for ten years, over another who in the tenth year borrowed 1,5007., having in the preceding nine years borrowed nothing. Further, Victoria has had the advant

age in the character of her population, which has always been marked by greater energy. This may be owing to climatic influences, but is more probably to be attributed to the fact that the gold-fields attracted to Victoria the flower of British youth and energy. In mineral produce Victoria has outpaced New South Wales, the gold yield alone being greater by many millions in value than the total quantity of minerals of all sorts, including coal, produced in New South Wales. This state of things is now being altered and New South Wales is beginning to pass Victoria in mineral production.

The conditions of the comparison are thus considerably in favour of Victoria, yet what is the result? Victoria, who when she was a Free Trade Colony was in everything which indicates material progress ahead of New South Wales, has been steadily falling behind in the race since she adopted Protection. In 1866 the Victorian revenue was one million more, in 1888 it was one million less, than that of New South Wales. In 1866 the imports into Victoria were valued at five millions more than those into New South Wales: last year the imports into Victoria only exceeded those into New South Wales by one million. In 1866 the exports from Victoria were valued at three millions more than those from New South Wales last year they were seven millions less. In 1866 under Free Trade Victoria had already a considerable manufacturing industry, whereas New South Wales could hardly be spoken of as a manufacturing Colony. Yet in 1887 New South Wales employed in her manufacturing industries 45,783 hands out of a population of a million, with a machinery of 26,152 horse-power, while Victoria employed 45,773 with a machinery of 21,018 horse-power, showing a surplus in favour of New South Wales-small it is true, but still a surplus. In only one respect has Victoria advanced more rapidly than New South Wales namely in agriculture. In this respect she has increased the lead over New

South Wales which she possessed in 1866. She has increased her cultivation five-fold, while New South Wales has increased hers barely three-fold. But in the face of the protracted drought in the latter Colony, and the superior adaptibility of Victorian soil to agriculture, increase in this respect cannot outweigh the testimony of decline given by other facts. It is impossible indeed to resist the conclusion that the progress of one Colony has been hampered by Protection, while the progress of the other has been furthered by Free Trade. Should good seasons return, and the affairs of the country be carefully and economically managed, there is no fear that New South Wales will give up the policy under which her progress has been so phenomonenal; and should there be any reaction in England in favour of a restrictive policy, she may yet play the part of the nurturing daughter and keep alive the mother of her Freedom by the support of her example.

The third great question in Australian politics is that which has come forward for the first time at the last general election in Queensland, namely the relations between Great Britain and the self-governing Colonies. For the first time in Australian history Nationalism has become a party cry. The precise aims of the Nationalists and the actual modifications of the existing relations which they desire have not been clearly defined, and it may be questioned whether the party really represents anything more than a vague sentiment of opposition to the extravagant claims of the Imperialists. It is quite certain that as a party it owes its existence in Australia to the noisy demonstrations of delight in England over the despatch of the Soudan contingent, and to the exaggerated estimate of the political significance of the Naval Defences Bill. Whatever differences of opinion may exist as to the wisdom of despatching a military force from Australia to the Soudan, all parties

seem agreed that such an act will never be repeated; while it is certain that no responsible ministry of an Australian Colony-not even that of Victoria, where the Imperialist feeling is strongest has taken the same view of the Naval Defences Act which has been taken in England. That measure, which Lord Carnarvon, Sir Charles Dilke, and the British Press regard as an expression of the determination of Australians to contribute to the support of the naval power of the British Empire, is universally regarded in Australia simply as a measure of coastal defence. The several Australian Parliaments have consented to contribute to the expenses of the British squadron, because they have been led to believe that this is the most economical method of preserving their own shores from hostile attack. It is probable at least the speeches of prominent English public men give colour to the idea-that the intention of the British Government in submitting this bill to the Australian Parliaments was different, and that the British-Australian squadron may be used in time of war for the protection of British sea-borne commerce. If this be the intention of the British Government, it cannot be too plainly asserted that the Australian tax-payer regards the sea-borne commerce of England as an English concern, and believes that in time of war his wants could be supplied by other nations, and his exports carried safely under the shelter of a neutral flag. When such sentiments are prevalent in Australia, it is surely injudicious on the part of Englishmen who value national union to over-estimate the importance of the recent legislative sanction to the contribution of Australian money to the maintenance of an English squadron on the Australian coast. It is certain that the view taken in England of this transaction had a marked effect in raising opposition to the measure in

Queensland. The Colonies are not prepared to enter into "a partnership with England in the toils and glories of empire"; and the less the obligation to do so is spoken of or enforced, the better the chance of preserving national union. It may be perfectly true that as a part of the British dominion we cannot escape bearing our share of national burdens; but it is highly undesirable to remind a mass of unthinking and ill-informed voters of this disagreeable fact until one is prepared with a practical plan of relief. The appearance of the Nationalist party in Australian politics will not be without benefit to England, if it serves as a wholesome warning against injudicious and fantastic schemes of union. Organic questions ought not to be raised except in cases of necessity; and the doctrinaires and busybodies who force them before the prosaic and peace-loving voter in Australia are doing more harm to the cause of union than they can be aware of. No doubt the motive of such persons is good, and it is therefore perhaps ungenerous to criticize their conduct harshly. Let them confine their efforts to making Australia and other Colonies known to Englishmen and they will be rendering a real public service. The way to consolidate the scattered dominions of the Queen is to diffuse information, so that the importance of every part may be universally appreciated. It cannot be expected that Englishmen should follow Colonial affairs with close interest, but they might know more about them than they do. They ought to recognize that Australian politics are worthy of attention, not only because of their bearing upon English interests, but because of their intrinsic political importance. If this article should help in any way to that end, its purpose will be amply realized. B. R. WISE.

SYDNEY, March, 1889.

SAINTE-BEUVE, it is well known, signalized "Madame Bovary" as the herald of a new spirit in literature. Of this spirit he thought he detected symptoms all around him; science, the spirit of observation, maturity, strength, a touch of hardness; "Anatomists and physiologists," he concludes, "I meet you on all sides". That was thirty years ago. The world has had enough and to spare since then, in fiction and elsewhere, of anatomy and physiology. Among other manifestations, what Lord Tennyson has called Zolaism has gathered to a head, soon to burst, some hope, and pass away. Flaubert is still by many regarded as one of the high priests of Zolaism, or rather perhaps as one of the prophets to prepare the way for the full revelation of Zolaism, who desired to see the things that we see. M. Zola was a personal friend of Flaubert, and claimed for his own work the benefit of the prestige of Flaubert's name and fame. He has found Flaubert worthy of a place in the apostolical succession from Stendhal down to himself, the reigning pope.

Flaubert himself protested, so far as it lay in his proud and reserved nature to protest, against this enforced consecration. While recognizing and encouraging the early promise of his younger friends, M. Zola, M. Daudet and the brothers Goncourt, he resented George Sand's labelling them as his “ school". These friends of his, he pleaded, laboured for what he despised, and were at small pains about that which with himself was the object of tormenting search. The word is not a whit too strong for what Mr. Pater has called Flaubert's martyrdom for style. himself, he regarded as of very secondary importance technical detail, local information, in short, the historical and literal aspect of things.

For

His supreme aim was beauty, for which his fellow-workers displayed but scant zeal. It is interesting to know, and to know from his own lips, that he shared with Tourguéneff neither his severity towards "Jack" nor the immensity of his admiration for "Son Excellence Rougon": one, in his opinion, had charm, the other strength, but neither one nor other was mainly pre-occupied with what for him was the end of art-with beauty. muses rather sadly, how difficult it is for us to understand one another. Here were two men, whom he was very fond of, both, in his judgment, true artists -Tourguéneff and Zola. Yet all the

He

same they in no wise admired Chateaubriand's prose, and still less Gautier's. They saw nothing in phrases which filled him with rapture.

In a word, then, so far from regarding himself as the founder of this new school, Flaubert in his own eyes was rather the last of the Romantics. In his letters to George Sand he was fond of calling himself votre vieux romantique. Hugo, Chateaubriand, Gautier were gods of his idolatry. He couples himself with Gautier as a survivor from an earlier age. In those sad days after 1870, Gautier in Paris, if still a god, was a god in exile. There were new religions in art. "Poor Théo", sighs Flaubert, no one now speaks his language. We are fossils stranded and out of place in a new world". We find him again in those later years complaining that men of letters were so little men of letters in his sense. There was hardly any one save Hugo left, with whom he could talk of things that interested him. One day Hugo quoted to him some passages from Boileau and Tacitus; it was as if he had received a present, Flaubert said, so rare had the thing become.

66

Nevertheless, in spite of all this, Sainte-Beuve being a looker on, perhaps

in some sense saw best how the game was going. Flaubert had undeniably more in common with this new world than he would seem to have been him

self aware. If he was a Romantic, his Romanticism was at all events not the Romanticism of 1830; he wore his scarlet waistcoat with a very decided difference. There is more science, more observation, in a sense more maturity; there is none of the froth and exuberance of 1830. But with the exuberance are gone also the élan and the charm of youth of the early Romantics. It is Romanticism grown old, which has outlived not only the follies of youth, but also its insou ciance, its vigorous spontaneousness, its faith and enthusiasm. There was only one thing he wanted, he said, but that was a thing not to be had for the asking—an enthusiasm of some sort. In playful seriousness, he signs one letter Directeur des Dames de la Désil lusion. Disenchantment is the secret at once of his bitterness and his force. If the beautiful Aladdin's palace of romantic art be only a phantom palace of magic, he will steadfastly fix his disenchanted gaze on the barren site, left more barren by the flight of the past splendour. But his soul still yearns for the beauty of it, and the old enchantment has thus much sway over his imagination still, that the remembered glory dwarfs and makes drearier the natural landscape. Disenchantment is the Nemesis of the tricks which romance is apt to play with fact. There is a beauty which includes fact, which is beyond and above fact. That is the sphere where Shakspeare dwells-not alone. But there is also a beauty which lies by the side of fact. The weaker impulse of romance is tempted sometimes to shrink from the roughness of the way and to turn aside into By-Path Meadow; and thereby fails to attain to the Beulah of poetic truth. Rightly enjoyed, By-Path Meadow need prove no primrose path to the everlasting bonfire. Like that other meadow which lay upon the banks of the river of

water of life, the meadow beautiful with lilies and green all the year round, where Christian and Hopeful lay down and slept, its sunlit flowers may afford rest and recreation from the dust and heat of the main road of life. But those who mistake it for the highway may find themselves astray. Vain Confidence seeking by this path the Celestial Gate is apt to fall into the deep pit which is on purpose there made by the prince of these grounds to catch vainglorious fools withal, and to be dashed to pieces by his fall. Some nobler souls the path may lead, as it led Christian and his companion, as it led Flaubert, to sojourn in the dungeons of the Giant Despair. A strong Shakespeare absorbs and supersedes the weaker romance, gives us poetry, which is at once more real and more romantic than the romances in vogue before his day. Yet even Shakespeare, before attaining to the ripe graciousness of Prospero, had perhaps his fleeting mood of Timon. And from his great contemporary Cervantes the romances drew a spirit, which was only not bitter irony, because it was first of all pitying humour. In the case of Flaubert the spirit of observation, married to his early Romanticism, begot, alas! no Shakesperean offspring, no radiant romance of reality. The offspring is disillusion, with bitter and mordant irony.

For all but the strongest natures the romance which is primarily picturesque is a delightful playground, but a bad school. Naturally so, because it was never meant for a school to learn the discipline of life in. For the experienced, for the worker, for the weary, romance is pure blessing. For inexperience and youth the blessing is not without its danger. Thus much foundation at all events Plato had for the severity of his famous judgment. After the glowing colour and deep shadows of picturesque romance, the work-day world is in danger of appearing too dull and gray; after its passions and heroisms and