EPILOGUE.
T h e promise m a d e in the Preface to these C H R O N I C L E S has been redeemed to the best of m y ability. I have done m y best; more no one could do. But whether I have done it well or otherwise, it is for others, not for m e , to form an opinion. T o write the history of Melbourne when it was a straggling, shabby, infant township,—now the metropolis of the Southern Hemisphere—was an enjoyable treat, for chance fixed m y residence continuously within its precincts, and so enabled m e to aid in m a n y of. the movements undertaken for its social and political advancement; and to watch the flow and ebb of the intermittent tides of prosperity or adversity by which it was flooded. There is hardly an old landmark I did not see removed, few events of importance in the olden time I did not witness, and which with the Melbourne of yore were so identified, that when I n o w ramble through its almost unrecognizable streets, I seem as if wandering amongst an unknown generation, a strange people, every crowd a sea of unfamiliar faces! I a m like a haunted m a n , for visions of realities long shrouded in oblivion confront m e at every step— " Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro " —
And gaze wistfully at me as I pass. Every score yards I traverse memory recalls some important, amusing, or m a y be, melancholy reminiscence connected with the locus of some public celebration, remarkable meeting, election row, or party riot, where a newspaper editor was knocked down, a conflagration flared up, or other notable incident happened. T o one merit, at least, I m a y fairly lay claim i.e., the execution of a work which no one else could have undertaken with any well-grounded hope of success in the acquisition and arrangement of facts. Though m a n y could easily be found of infinitely superior ability, no other individual possessed the long local experience without which the project would have been simply impracticable. Should any person imagine that a gallop through the old Melbourne newspapers, or cramming from the books written on Port Phillip, would suffice, he is egregiously mistaken; for I unhesitatingly declare in defiance of all contradiction, that a large number of the most interesting and raciest of the items recorded never appeared previously in print; but were gleaned from old letters and diaries; and the personal and epistolary enquiries addressed to the few surviving old colonists w h o m I considered competent to throw any light upon some mystified question, a dimly observed, almost obliterated speck in the ?iebulaz through which I was obliged to grope. Originally, I had intended to publish T H E C H R O N I C L E S in book form ; but reflection led m e to deem it more advisable to issue it in sections through the Press to the public, inviting the freest criticism, and the correction of possible, though inadvertent, inaccuracies ; and promising, in the not improbable event of its re-issue in a collected shape, to benefit by the same, so far as I could after careful investigation. M y purpose in adopting this course was to render m y effort worthy of the cause in which it was accomplished, and to m a k e it a reliable record of bygone times. I must also observe that as I never credited myself with any special attributes as a writer, and though having had m u c h to do with the early journalism of the city, I was never so egotistic as to put forth any pretensions to be considered a litterateur in even the most restricted sense, and I claim nothing on the score of literary merit for what I have done. T H E C H R O N I C L E S O F E A R L Y M E L B O U R N E comprise little more than the collection of events and dates detailed in an order wherein each chapter constitutes a branch in itself, starting from a beginning, and running either to its termination,
