Briefly mentioned by Van Ikin in his 1984 book “Australian Science Fiction”, the fiction story Australia Advanced; or Dialogues for the Year 2032 by Mephistopheles the Younger, first published in the Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser in May 1832 across 5 issues, has caught the imagination of many students of history and the arts, and now science fiction studies (me!) This is unfortunate as the dialogue is quite staid and boring, and does nothing to add to the history of Australian science fiction besides existing as linearly the first. I would dearly love to find an earlier and better example than this. However, for now, this is what we’re stuck with, and so, let’s look at it further.
In 2002, Margaret Healey says in her thesis on Australian colonial poetry that the story “makes the assumption that Australia will follow the English model and have tenants working land out in the provinces, for landlords who live in Sydney or travel abroad.”
In A Companion to Science Fiction (2005) edited by David Seed, a chapter written by Van Ikin and Sean McMullen on Australian science fiction history goes into a little more detail about the story. (Note that a typo lists it as 3032). They say “[It] foresees the construction of two suspension bridges across Sydney Harbor, the “extinction” of indigenous timber, and the construction of “the Lightning locomotive engine, which runs (or flies rather) at 60 miles per hour.”
Since then, more attention has been made to the story.
In 2010, Graeme Skinner refers to it in his thesis as, in some part, being influenced by a concert by musician Barnett Levey at the time.
In 2013, John Morley refers to it in his book The Native-Born: The First White Australians exploring some of the predictions listed in the dialogue and giving his opinions.
The story is later followed up in 2019 by Lyman Tower Sargent on their exploration of utopian fiction as 3072 who adds “The advances are mostly technological, although from our perspective even the technological changes seem quite limited. Speed of travel by ship is mentioned often. There is a suspension bridge between Dover and Calais. Relatively little social change. For example, Australia remains a colony and is supporting Britain in its war with China. Australia’s population has grown significantly, but there is no mention of significant expansion beyond the East Coast. The Aboriginal population has died out around Sydney, but still exists to the North.”
No doubt there are other references I haven’t found yet.
So, while this story is recognised by Van Ikin as science fiction, being set in the future and predicting future ‘advances’, it has been referenced in works about poetry, music and utopian fiction.
Rather than review it myself, as it has limited relevance to my thesis, I leave it to you, dear reader, to breathe new life with your comments below into this almost 200 year old story, for herewith are all five sections, taken from Trove, for your delectation. Scroll to the bottom if you’d prefer to listen to the audio book, read by my AI avatar.
AUSTRALIA ADVANCED: OR, DIALOGUES FOR THE YEAR 2032.
BY MEPHISTOPHOLE THE YOUNGER.
No. I.
SCENE.—A large stone wharf or pier, which stretches across the south-end of Sydney Cove. A multitude of boats landing passengers from a large steamship just arrived from London.
AUSTRALIAN AND TRAVELLER.
A. Welcome to Australia, my dear Sir—glad to see you in Sydney Cove. Have you just come in?
T. Oh, no. We got inside the Heads late last night, but having to land some passengers at a pretty little village close by the Heads, we came to anchor opposite Watson’s Bay, I think they call it.
A. You are right—and the village which you saw is Watson’s Town, a famous place for sea bathing quarters. I remember hearing my poor granddad say, that, when he was a very young man, there were only two or three houses there, belonging to the pilots. I think the village was named after one of the pilots. Which steamer did you come in?
T. I came in the Rapid—a splendid boat. This is only her third trip to Sydney. We made the passage from the Land’s End to the Cove in 50 days, touching at St. Jago, Rio Janeiro, the Cape, and Port Lincoln.
A. Port Lincoln is a flourishing little town, is it not?
T. It is. I was told that the population is now above 5000, and the town is daily increasing.
A. You made a fair trip, after all, considering that you called at so many places. Of what power are the Rapid’s engines?
T. Four hundred horsepower. We have brought out 500 labourers for the Carpentaria settlement.
A. So I hear. One of our steamers, the Conveyance, takes them to Wellington to-morrow. But what news from Old England?
T. She still “flourishes in immortal youth” You would hear of course, by the Comet, of the death of Frederick II. George VII. was proclaimed the day we left London. We had notice of it when off Land’s End, by the Lightning locomotive engine, which runs (or flies rather) between the capital and Cornwall. Her speed is 60 miles per hour, the greatest speed to which they have yet attained.
A. Wonderful! Wonders will never cease, even in this wonderful era.
T. Never, “while burnies rin or grows a tree,” as Burns sung in days of yore.
A Yes, we hear but little now quoted from the poets of the 18th and 19th centuries. Scott, Camp-bell, Moore, are now little read.
T. Very little. The same remark was made in their day on the poetry of Cowley, Milton, and Dryden.
A. And thus the world goes round.
T. Shakespeare’s fame, however, lives in a thou-sand tongues. His flashes of mirth, and deep knowledge of human nature, have suffered little in the “wreck of matter or the crush of worlds.”
A. He and Scott’s prose works go down the stream at time together. Was not Scott knighted by one of the kings of England?
T. He was—by George IV if I remember rightly.
A. But a truce to literary conversation. What do you think of our Southern city?
T. Why, that it is a splendid expanse of stone and mortar; but, even yet, some parts of the town want weeding. A little more uniformity would be desirable.
A. I confess it would—but this is an evil entailed on all new colonies in their early days, as everyone then built to please his own fancy, and you may see that this spirit has not yet died away. But, as it is, I am glad that our correspondence has at last brought you here, to see with your own eyes and hear with your own ears. In your last letter, I think you told me you had just arrived from China. How were affairs there?
T. The war was carrying on with spirit, and the British were in undisturbed possession of Tonquin, Canton, and Nankin. Pekin was expected to fall soon. I was told that the 3rd and 5th regiments of Australian infantry did their duty at the siege of Macoa like true descendants of “Old England.”
A. Bravo! Australia for ever! Anything more relative to the Chinese war?
T. Not that I have heard. I hurried to England to be at the opening of the grand “Suspension Bridge” between Dover and Calais.
A. Is that stupendous undertaking finished?
T. Quite: and one of the most sublime spectacles you ever witnessed. The iron work alone cost £800,000. There are a thousand shares at £2,000 and all paid.
A. We have something of the same kind here, but not such a stretcher. You will notice that fine terrace on the point.
T. I do
A. An old, dismantled building, called Dawe’s Battery, stood there for many years, but government ordered it to be pulled down, and Bridge Terrace now occupies the same ground. A noble street runs through the centre of the terrace, which leads you to Sydney Bridge, also a suspension one. This is our second bridge of this sort. The other crosses Hanover Harbour, called, in the primitive days of the colony, Cockle Bay. And now we are at the turnpike of the suspension bridge.
T. Why, this is a busy and animated scene! quite old-country-like!
A. The very rapid increase of the new town on the north side of Port Jackson rendered it indispensable that there should be other means of conveyance than the Water Company’s ferryboats; accordingly, this bridge was built by public sub-scription, and has only been finished a few months. We will cross over whenever that vessel gets through the drawbridge.
T. What ship is that?
A. The Leviathan, whaler, from the Southern Frigid Ocean, with sperm candles.
T. Sperm candles! Is it possible?
A. The fact, I assure you. They are all manufactured at Cook’s Island, the name of the ancient navigator of these seas, and brought up here.
T. What tonnage is the Leviathan?
A. A thousand tons register, I believe. T. She will only be a second class ship, then?
A. No more.
(The two friends cross the suspension bridge.) T. That structure is admirably put together, and reflects infinite credit on the architects. There is very little spring, and, I think, only one pier in the centre.
A. Only one. Port Jackson is so completely land-locked, and the water so comparatively smooth, that the labours of the workmen were never interrupted a single day.
T. A very different affair from our suspension bridge across the channel. Nearly a thousand workmen were employed, and it took them five years and some months to complete it. During a gale in December last nearly one hundred men were lost. The sinking of the piers was a tremendous undertaking. What street is this we are now walking along? It forms a beautiful line of buildings.
A. Hanover-street. It is built, I think, after, the plan of one of the streets in the North New Town of Edinburgh. The street that intersects its centre is Russell-street, which runs from the New King’s Wharf up towards our Australian Ludgate Hill.
T. Whose monument is this in the centre?
A. Governor Macquarie’s (erected in 1922), who is still fondly remembered by the title of “The Father of the Colony.” Here we have a tolerable view of Port Jackson and the shipping in Hanover Harbour.
T. Yes it is. The tout ensemble is highly pleasing. Is that a fort in the centre of Port Jackson, a little way down? It appears as if it were built in the water.
A. That is our powder magazine, built on a little island that used long ago to bear the name of Pinchgut.
7. I should think they would be pinched enough, for room.
A. They were: and on that account the magazine was built much higher. No vessel is allowed to moor within a quarter of a mile of it.
T. What two steamers are these just now coming up?
A. Both from Van Diemen’s Land, I think. The largest is the Tasmanian, from Hobart Town; the other, the—I forget her name, from Launceston and George’s Town. We have now four steamers which sail weekly for Van Diemen’s Land.—By your leave, we will now take a stroll along some of the streets above Hanover-street, and then adjourn to the Australian Chop House, at the Wharf, and take lunch.
T. Most willingly. Will you do me the pleasure of dining with me at my hotel, George’s Place, at four o’clock?
A. I ought to have asked this question of you, but, unfortunately, I have an engagement which will detain me all the afternoon.
T. I am sorry for this. However, as I have a good many letters to deliver in different parts of the town, I will get over the evening well enough.
A. Did you notice the stand of coaches as we came through Bridge-street?
T. I think I did.
A. Well, there you will get an excellent chaise, at a very moderate rate for the afternoon. This will save you the trouble of enquiring for your friends’ residences. I have an engagement at Williamson’s at two o’clock, to meet one of our hop merchants, or I would go across with you again.
T. There is no necessity for that. I recollect the place perfectly.
A. And now we are at the Black Bull. T. Good old English name!
A. Will you breakfast with me to-morrow at nine? There is my address.
T. With much pleasure. (Exeunt.)
(To be continued.)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/2206616
No. II.
SCENE- The Breakfast-parlour of Australia, in Pelham-row- Materials for the morning meal on the table, and the necessary appendages for two persons – The morning papers are also on the table.
Enter Traveller.
Australian, Good morning, Sir. You are very punctual.
Traveller. I always like to be so, if possible.
A. I hope our Australian air has given you an appetite this morning.
T. It has, I assure you. I was stirring betimes, and have been quite round both the old and new Domain.
A. Indeed! You must have found it warm.
T. Yes, it was, but there is no want of shade in the beautiful walks.
A. Native although I am, I must confess that the extinction of the indigenous timber and brushwood of this country, and supplanting it with the noble wood of the Old Country is an immense improvement.
T. It will make your winter appear British-like. A. Yes, but the gorgeous foliage which hangs over Port Jackson through the summer, makes ample restitution for the sombre “dull green livery” which our shores used eternally to wear in former days.
T. What papers do you get?
A. The old Gazette, which is published daily. I likewise take in the Chronicle and the Australian Herald.
T. Anything of importance in the Gazette this morning?
A. Nothing particular. I observe their ”leader” is on the population of this country, and the facts they adduce are well and ably stated.
T. Is not the population of the colony increasing rapidly?
A. Very. By the last census taken in 2029, the population of the whole colony was estimated at nearly 330,000, shewing an increase of 15 per cent, in five years. Of this number Sydney alone claims as her share nearly one-fourth.
T. Why, to look at the extent of ground which Sydney occupies, I would say that the population would be almost a third of the number you have just stated.
A. I dare say you might, but you must bear in mind that the numerous streets about Cooper-street (where the large cloth manufactories are situated) such as Cleveland-row, Grose-place, Windsor street, and many more, are all built in the detached style, and have each large plots of garden-ground round the houses.
T. There may be some truth in that. By the way, looking from the top of Queen-street, at the south end of the new Domain, I observed some very beautiful villas. One in particular struck me as quite unique, in the Persian terraced style, with four pines growing in front, and a splendid orangery behind.
A. That is Dr. Abel’s, the Editor of the Pilot, one of our ablest daily papers.
T. Of what strength is your newspaper press?
A. Why, there is the Gazette, Australian Herald, Pilot, and the Morning Journal, all daily papers. There is the Observer, the Pacific (a neutral paper) and the Australian Mercury,- which publish thrice a week. And there is the Weekly Monitor, the Sydney Journal, the Commercial Post, the Young Australian, (a great radical) and the Advertiser, weekly papers.
T. A tolerable batch. And how are you off for periodicals?
A. I can’t say so much for them. I may mention, however, the South Asian Monthly, the Tatler, the Journal of Science, the Botanic Magazine, and a kind of Sporting Magazine, published every two months. Besides these, there are several religious magazines, such as the Church of England, the Presbyterian, the Baptist Magazine, the South Sea Record, and some others.
T. Have you no provincial papers?
A. Only four. The Liverpool Times, the Parramatta Courant, the Windsor Telegraph, and the Newcastle Observer.
T. Are the magazines all fair specimens of your desultory talent.
A. But so so. However, the Botanic, and the Journal of Science, are worthy of the able gentlemen who edit them. Talking of magazines, I picked up a bit of a curiosity in an old book shop in York Street the other day.
T. Indeed; pray let me see it, I am rather curious about old books.
A. Here it is. An odd volume of a very old periodical called Blackwood’s Magazine for 1835, long since gone to the tomb of all the Capulets. And, curious enough, there is a review of an Atlas, in this very volume, in which are some striking prophetic remarks on “the land we live in,” New Holland. The reviewer commences by stating a remark by Shenton, or Shenson (the book is so blurred with mildew I can scarcely make it out) but I suppose it is intended for Johnson, the author of a very old but excellent dictionary.
T. And what was Shenton’s remark?
A. That he never looked over a map without a sensation of regret when he reflected that there was not a name written upon its surface that did not belong to a place where social, friendly, virtuous, or brilliant people were not to be found, and whose company, of course, he could not enjoy.
T. It was a kindly, though a morbid and selfish feeling.
A. He goes on to say, that the impression which is left on a person, on looking over an Atlas, is a disposition to speculate on the future state of the world – on the nations and empires yet to arise in quarters now barbarous and desert.
T. Had Mr. Shenton lived in these days, he would have found no quarter for these titles.
A. But hear the reviewer again. His remarks have all the spirit of prophecy in them. He must have been a thinking person. “It is impossible,” says he, to put it out of one’s head, that New Holland, the country which latest of all has received the elements of civilization.
T. That will not hold now (pardon the interruption) as Borneo, New Guinea, Papua, New Zealand, and the islands in the South Polar Seas, are all thickly colonised since the writer’s time.
A. True. To finish his sentence, however, he says New Holland is certainly destined to play a great part in future ages,
T. There is little doubt of that.
A. The rest of his remarks have still more of the spirit of prophecy in them. The man ought to have been a prophet.
T. And then he would not have had any honour in his own country.
A. As it was, perhaps he would not.
T. More than likely, he would he laughed at for his visionary schemes. But let us have the rest.
A. (Reads)- “From the Northern coast of New Holland to Canton, the distance is only half of that from England to New York. With the means cf rapid communication, which every day is improving or bringing forward, it is not probable that two such mighty empires (!) will be long without coming into contact. The intervening islands, Borneo, &c., will soon submit before European skill, and it does not seem chimerical to look forward to New Holland as the power which is destined to upset the ancient systems of Asia” (!)
T. The British, as I informed you yesterday, are upsetting it as fast as possible; and Australia, at least, is lending a helping hand, with heart and good will.
A. But hear his peroration: – (Reads) – “As Egypt was long the great Western barrier to knowledge, so is China the great Eastern barrier. If any power were to upset the system that prevails in that country, a great benefit would be conferred on the human race. Perhaps we ourselves are destined to perform it; perhaps it is reserved for the descendants of our Australasian progeny. If so, it will be a queer dispensation which permits the overthrow of the kingdom of Fo [Oh!] by the offspring of a colony intended to relieve the jails of London of their thieves and prostitutes!”
T. Proh pudor! What does he mean by that last sentence?
A. I cannot fathom it at all.
T. Oh, I think I recollect something of it now. Somewhere about the year 1910, an immense number of people were sent out here by government, who were convicted of being concerned in the great corn riots of that year; but I cannot make out what he means by “thieves and prostitutes.”
A. The same writer seems to think that when that event (the overthrow of the Chinese empire) is accomplished, the world will stand no chance of suffering another night of ignorance.
T. No, as I do not know where savages are to come from. Even if there were, they would become civilized before they could cope with us.
A. Thanks, principally, I think, to gunpowder.
T. No doubt of that. As Alexander the Great wept when there were no more worlds to conquer, the philanthropist may now weep because there are no more savages to civilize. – What are you going to do with that pile of old books lying under the sideboard?
A. I mean to send them to one of my sheep and cattle stations in the district of York, for the use of the overseers.
T. What distance may that be?
A. Only eight hundred miles, N.W. of Sydney. A stagecoach runs to the small village of Oatlands, about thirty miles from my estate.
T. The colony must he spreading rapidly in that direction. By the way, is the Hunter still as famous for the good things which you used to write me of?
A. Yes. It still bears the bell. Through the Summer months, you may see the most enormous quantities of fruit, butter, eggs, and vegetables coming in by the steamers every Tuesday and Friday.
T. How many steamers have you now in that part of the country?
A. Four boats; and all except one make the trip twice a week.
T. Where is your fruit and vegetable market? I looked for it this morning in vain.
A. It is exactly behind the Esplanade, on the piece of ground which the old Government-House used to occupy.
T. Talking of Government House, who is your Ruler now?
A. Lord William Russell, a descendant of the famous reformer of that name, who died about two centuries ago.
T. I don’t recollect whether I saw Government House or not.
A. I don’t think you have. Government-House stands on the face of the hill-overlooks Port Jackson, the Botanic Gardens, and the old Domain. It is a plain but highly elegant structure, and is much admired by strangers for its chaste appearance and commanding situation. The principal entrance is opposite the gate of the Catholic Chapel, which stands, surrounded by fine oaks, at the North end of the New Domain, overlooking Wooloomooloo Bay.
T. I remarked the grand entrance. It is finished with much taste.
A. We Australians are very proud of it, I assure you.
T. Another century will make this-country one of the noblest dependencies of the British empire. It is, after all, a matter of “special wonder” that so insignificant a speck as the British Isles are upon the globe should have spread their power over all the earth. I hope that power will always be exerted for good.
A. The restless and persevering ambition of the Mother Country has now brought half the habitable globe under her especial dominion.
T. It is a “vaulting ambition,” too, that seldom “overleaps itself.”
A. The seldomer the better; for every hour, there is more at stake. But we must not sit talking here all day. The morning is fast running away, and we must not let it give us the slip altogether. This kind of conversation beguiles the time insensibly.
T. It does. Let us go.
(To be continued:)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/2206656
No. III.
SCENE–The parlour of TRAVELLER in the Australian Private Hotel, George’s Place, Bourke-square. –Time, One o’clock, P. M.–Lunch on the table.
Australian. Well, Sir, and how have you employed your leisure hours during the last two or three days? Pleasantly, I hope?
Traveller. Very satisfactorily, I assure you. I have both seen and heard a good deal of the internal economy of New South Wales since I last had the pleasure of seeing you.
A. I am glad of it. Did you find my letter of any use to you at Stephens Town?
T. Of much use every way. I found the Director of the Australian Company a very pleasant and extremely, well-informed man. His villa is beautifully situated, and the grounds tastefully laid out. It occupied me nearly the whole day going through the various manufactories, mills, bleachfields, and what not. It is an immense establishment; and their stud of horse’s are fully equal to those of England. Was not Barry, the famous polar navigator, Director of this Company in the early days of the colony?
A. You mean Parry, I presume.
T. Parry, was it? I daresay you are right.
A. He was Director, but it is now a long while ago. I recollect reading in the Company’s General Reports that Parry was the first English Knight that settled on these shores. Did they shew you their coal-works?
T. Yes, they did, and a busy sight it is. Port Stephens is quite a bustling seaport. I observed eight or ten vessels loading with the black diamond for Van Diemen’s Land; and twice that number of coasters belonging to Sydney, waiting their turn. And although there are three double railways, there was apparently enough to do for them all.
A. The autumnal months are drawing on, consequently the people of Sydney are laying in their winter stock. An immense quantity of coal is lodged in the depots about this time.
T. Is not the vein of coal at Port Stephens superior to that of Newcastle?
A. I believe it is. Some people prefer a mixture of both.
T. By the way, the maize stores at Stephens Town surprised me not a little. Such immense granaries of the golden grain! They were actively employed measuring the twenty thousand bushels which goes home with us in the Rapid.
A. Twenty thousand bushels! You surprise me.
T. It is a fact, nevertheless.
A. It is somewhat singular that the maize market was not at all affected yesterday morning by such a purchase.
T. For the best of all reasons. It is, as yet, a profound secret.
A. It will not be a secret next week; of that I am positive.
T. Perhaps not. What is maize selling at just now?
A. Sixteen shillings per quarter. Our last crop was superabundant. Such a crop has not been known for many years. Who are the London purchasers?
T. Williams & Co., the Government Contractors.
A. And have you any idea what they are to pay for it in London?
T. I believe it is contracted for at sixty shillings per quarter; but from that sum there must be de-ducted six shillings freight, and the duty, which I think is 5 per cent.
A. What is the cause of Government making this purchase of maize?
T. The partial failure of the oat crop.
A. What steamer did you take to Port Stephens? T. The Company’s packet Norah. By the way, in returning I observed a very handsome fort on the South Head.
A. Fort Frederick, named after the late King. It was built at the time of the rumoured hostilities be-tween America and England; and I daresay you will rejoice with me that we have not yet had occasion to point the guns of Fort Frederick against the wooden walls of brother Jonathan.
T. And I trust you never shall. The power, both naval and military, of both countries, is immense; and were they ever to be again thrown into collision with each other, the struggle would be long, arduous, and bloody. Of course, I say that Great Britain, in the end, would come off victorious; but, may a merciful Providence avert the consummation!
A. Amen to your prayer.
T. What ships of war hare you here just now? I observed two at anchor outside the beacon.
A. These are the Sirius and the Lyre, both 50-gun frigates. The Snake, 36 guns, and a model of her kind, you will not have an opportunity of seeing as she is at present stationed off Moreton. The Snake was built at Portsmouth expressly for our east coast.
T. I think Government would do the state ser-vice were they to grant you a few thousand pounds for the erection of a new lighthouse. When I saw it, the other day, a pretty stiff breeze was blowing from the eastward, and, upon my word, I was very glad to get my body free of it, as it quivered again when the breeze freshened; and, moreover, there is a rent from top to bottom on the east side. You will have it going overboard these tremendous cliffs during some westerly gale.
A. The building was struck by lightning two or three years ago.
T. Had it not the patent conductor?
A. It had; but the summer was more than usually dry, which caused one of the wooden sockets to fall out of the supporter; and, during a thunderstorm it was struck, and sustained the damage you noticed.
T. I wonder the Member for Sydney, the great merchant, what’s his name, does not bring it forward in the House of Commons.
A. You allude to Mr. Welmore.
T. The same.
A. Why, the fact is, that Mr. W. was returned by the most numerous but least influential part of the community. And, as he is directly opposed to the small number who wish a new lighthouse, he treats it rather lightly than otherwise. No pun meant.
T. But surely a thing of this kind must be for the general good.
A. Of course it must; and it is a pity that difference of opinion, on political matters, should ever interfere with the welfare of any community.
T. Such has always been the case, however.
A. I have seen a plan of a new lighthouse, which is intended to be erected to the northward of the present one; and if Parliament do not give the grant this session, I believe it will be built by public sub-scription, for we have plenty of wealthy men both able and willing to commence it.
T. The present South Head Lighthouse must be a very old building.
A. I forget the year that it was built. But it must be somewhere about 230 years ago. It was erected during Governor Macquarie’s administration, whose monument I shewed you in the New Town.
T. I observed that all the ship signals are made from the centre tower in Fort Frederick.
A. Yes; a seaman or two are kept in the fort for that purpose. It is in contemplation, I have been told, to convert the old lighthouse into a signal station to communicate with the stations on the North and South shores. Of course, before this can be done, the new one must be built, and the old one repaired.
T. I was much pleased with the South Head drive. If you keep your eye to the road, and allow it not to wander through the trees either to the blue waters of Botany Bay, or the harbour of Port Jack-son, you might fancy yourself in one of those beautiful rural drives in the neighbourhood of London, A. Some of the villas are very handsome.
T. I was particularly pleaded with Tusculum, the sweet residence of your friend B. It is quite a bijou. I am astonished he has not got married long ere this. It only wants an agreeable woman to complete a very pleasant picture.
A. Domus et placens uxor.
T. Exactly. Or, as one of our antiquated poets said, or sung, two or three centuries ago–
“Without the smile from partial beauty won, What were this world–a world without a sun.” A. Did you look in at the distilleries as you were going or returning? You would pass the gate, at all events?
T. A large gateway, with the words “Australian Distillery,” in huge cost-iron letters?
A. That is the place. There is a neat lodge too, on the left-hand side, covered with the monthly rose.
T. Oh, one cannot possibly pass it without remark; but we went not in.
A. If you had, you would have tasted as fine aquas was ever distilled in any part of the three kingdoms.
T. What! as fine as the Glenlivet, of which the Scotch people are so proud, and the English people so fond of?
A. Every tittle. But as I may be prejudiced a little in favour of our Australian productions, you shall judge for yourself after dinner to-day in a dram of the Company’s best old aqua, which I have had five years in bottle.
T. Most willingly.
A. And you shall pledge me in the old Colonial toast–Advance Australia.
T. With all my heart.
A. I would recommend you, moreover, to visit the premises. You will be able to spend an hour or two very agreeably, and I will give you a note to my friend Askew, the manager who I am certain will pay you every attention.
T. Many thanks, my good Sir, I will accept your kind offer, but I am ashamed of the trouble I have given you.
A. Not at all. I am only sorry that various matters prevent me shewing you the attention I could wish. I never count it lost labour when I am able to apply my spare hours to shewing strangers, especially Englishmen, the capabilities of my native country; for it is only by cultivating these friendly feelings on all occasions, that the interests of this colony can be fostered in the old country; and the character of her inhabitants understood.
T. It is curious that even at this day, the most contrary accounts respecting New South Wales, are published in the public prints.
A. Singular enough. I cannot see for what end. T. The only particular in which they agree is the fineness of the climate. To which I now also give my voice. As our immortal bard hath it–“The air smells wooingly here, And sweetly and nimbly recommends itself Unto our pleasant senses.” He really describes it, as if he himself had snuffed the pure atmosphere of Australia.
A. Good. But his beautiful allusion to the “sweet south” will not answer this side of the world. The south wind blows here in the winter months with a cutting sharpness.
T. Shakespeare dreamt not of the Antipodes.
A. Even if he had, he would have found but little in his day and generation whereon to exercise his brilliant imagination.
T. Tasman only discovered this continent the same year that Shakespeare was gathered to his fathers, Anno Domini, 1616.
A. I wonder what he would have said of our Aborigines, or black fellow, as the English termed them long ago.
T. “Dark native of the far Antipodes!”
A. And the Emu?
T. “Brother to Africa’s white and lofty bird.”
A. But this Shakespearean colloquy has run away with the Australian Distillery.
T. “Whisky by any other name would smell as sweet.”
A. “No more of that, Hal, an’ ye love me.”
T. I have done.
A. You must not let them forget to show you their garden at the Distillery; it is one of the finest in the colony.
T. You are favoured with a wonderfully productive soil.
A. Also, forget not to look at what they call the “Old Building.” It was built by the original proprietor of the place, one or the earliest settlers here. It will give you some idea of the slim workmanship of the 19th century.
T. Yes. We are fast progressing towards the Babylonish walls and massy Roman towers–Where do you find a market for your Australian aqua?
4. In New Zealand and the other islands of Australasia. The demand far exceeds the supply.
T. Why do you not build more distilleries?
A. They are doing so. The Campbelton Joint Stock Company are just now erecting an immense range of buildings, for the manufacture of the pure spirit. But it is nearly 3 o’clock, and I have to attend a meeting of the South Sea Oil Gas Company at that hour. You will excuse me.
T. Surely.
A. Then, we shall see you at five precisely?
T. I shall do myself the pleasure of waiting on you at that hour.
A. Good morning.
T. Adieu. (Exeunt.)
(To be continued.)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/2206704
DIALOGUE FOURTH.
SCENE.–The Library of Australian.
Time.–Forenoon.
A. I trust you are not serious in your intention of returning to London by the Rapid.
T. Quite serious. The fact is that my good lady at home has been pestering me for two or three summers to take her to Calcutta, to pay a promised visit to some of her father’s friends; therefore I must return to prepare for the trip.
A. How do you intend going?
T. By the Rajah, steam packet.–Steamers now start for the principal cities in India, on the first day of every month, from Falmouth.
A. I intend being in Calcutta myself in May, so I may chance to meet you there.
T. Not unlikely. Let me see: this is the last day of February. We shall first arrive there about the end of May, or beginning of June. But, why not go home with me, and return to New South Wales by way of India?
A. I would be too happy to avail myself of such a shipmate, but I am sorry that it is entirely out of my power.
T. Have you ever been in Old England?
A. Only once, about five years ago; and then I was so much hurried that I was only a month in the country.
T. By the bye, the gentleman whom we met yesterday in the Atheneum goes to England, I have heard, in the same packet with me. You must introduce me to him.
A. Which do you mean? We meet so many gentlemen in the reading-room that I am at a loss.
T. You bowed to him as we entered the Long Room: he was coming out at the time.
A. Oh! Dr. Phillips. I will introduce you, by all means. You will find him a very pleasant compagnon de voyage. As a professional man, he possesses considerable talent, but his practice is not very extensive.
T. Is he an Australian?
A. No. He came from England about three years ago, as Chief Surgeon in one of the London Australian Company’s traders. He is fond of broaching new medical opinions, or, rather, reviving old theories. A work was published by him, the other day, on pulmonary consumption, which is in direct opposition to the opinions of the faculty here, and was the occasion of some very bitter remarks in the Sydney Medical Journal, for December last.
T. What is taking him home?
A. An uncle, I believe, has left him two or three thousands in cash, and a small property. He is going home to dispose of it and return to this country.
T. That is a theory that anyone could broach.
A. I do not think he would return again, but Mrs. P. is an Australian lady, and will not be persuaded to take up her residence in England.
T. You say he has little practice here.
A. Not much: but he has himself to blame for that. The truth is that the Doctor has the cacöethes carpendi to such a height that the half of his patients would die while he was engaged skinning some bird, pinning a butterfly, assorting materials, &c. &c. &c. His new house on Woolloomoolloo is quite a museum.
T. Is not Woolloomoolloo a native name? A. It is, and one of the finest.
T. I have not seen any of the Aborigines in Sydney since I came.
A. You have no chance of seeing them either unless you travel a good way into the interior. All the tribes about Sydney have died long ago, but there are plenty about Oatlands, all round to Cape Howe, and in the North Country. If you will take a trip with me to my West Country station, I will shew you plenty of blacks.
T. The distance is too great.
A. Only between seven and eight hundred miles.
T. I must defer it, however.
A. I am glad to hear the word defer. That is a half-promise to revisit Australia.
T. Perhaps. Talking of blacks, I noticed a few American Indians amongst the crew of the New London, merchantman, which arrived from Philadelphia two days ago. I also noticed a good number of American vessels lying off Parkman’s Wharf. You have a considerable traffic with America?
A. Yes, a good deal. They bring us rum and sugar from the West Indies.
T. And what are your exports to America?
A. Principally wool. A great number of the American merchantmen, however, go round by China and India, and got their cargoes there.
T. At any rate, the constant ingress and egress of foreigners will always benefit this colony.
A. It makes our salted meat go like chaff before the wind, and fills the right hand pockets of our graziers and settlers. You know that the Australian salt beef takes precedence of all other salt beefs on the habitable globe.
T. I know well that that there is no slight grumbling on the part of the contractors for the Navy on this score. You supply all the King’s ships on foreign stations with salt beef.
A. And have done so for some years. This branch of trade has increased of late years to an enormous extent. Last year, we exported to Van Diemen’s Land, New Zealand, and the Mauritius, nearly three thousand tierces.
T. You are doing wonders, Sir; go on and prosper.
A. This island, or continent, or whatever you call it, is rapidly making up its leeway for the long series of years that it remained in dull inanity.
T. The progress of Australia must be interesting. A. Necessarily; and it must be a rise and progress too.
T. At all events, you may with safety date its decline and fall some few thousand years off, should this world remain so long.
A. Great Britain and America are now the only countries in the old world which are still rising in the scale of civilization.
T. With this difference–Great Britain has al- most attained the highest possible polish. America is yet a diamond, rough set.
A. It is of the last importance that Great Britain and her eldest daughter should keep on the best terms with each other, more especially when the other states of the world are in such a fickle humour.
T. All grumbling, fighting, and quarrelling. There is South America, has as lengthy a list of generals over-ruling her destinies as she had two centuries ago. Germany is harassed with feud and faction. The Emperor of Austria is nomen et preterea nihil. The republicanism of Spain is an inlet to every excess. France is declining in the scale of nations. Louis the Twenty-first is fast following the footsteps of some of his silly ancestors. Russia, spite of her Emperor, her St. Petersburg, her Black Sea, and Riga balsam, is little better than a horde of Scythians. The people of the North, particularly of Norway and Sweden, alone maintain their independence and the honour of their crowns.
A. You draw a hopeful picture.
T. No less strange than true. By the way, to pass from the affairs of the real world to those of mimic life, I last night visited your Theatre Royal.
A. Ah! indeed. And how liked you our Australian theatricals!
T. Why, if there is any faith to be put in the opinion of Robertson, Scotland’s favoured historian, that a nation—–
A. We are hardly entitled to that name yet.
T. That a people must be considerably advanced in refinement before they acquire a taste for dramatic performances, I should say that Australia has made a striking advancement in this very particular. Whether her refinement has kept pace with this taste for the drama it is for you to say.
A. Taking the word refinement in the sense Robertson intended it should be taken, I would almost say that her taste for the drama has outstripped her refinement.
T. Both taste and refinement are, at all events, employed in the decorating of the house. I was much pleased with the simplicity of style, the chaste colouring, the massive chandeliers, and, in short, with the whole affair.
A. The drop scene is good, don’t you think?
T. Very good. The view which it represents is striking and accurate. Port Jackson looks well on canvass, and the principal features of Sydney are ingeniously brought within the compass of a single painting.
A. And what think you of the veluti in speculum scroll?
T. It is well done, and reflects credit on the artist. The supporters, the kangaroo and the emu, are finished to the life, and the emblature, with the colonial motto, “Advance Australia,” is beautifully done. In some of the shifting scenes, your up-country and river scenery are vividly and, I dare say, faithfully delineated.
A. And the actors?
T. “Very excellent good,” as Sir Andrew Ague- cheek says. We had Shakespeare’s Hamlet performed, and really, I must own, that the characters of Hamlet and Ophelia were done ample justice to by Miss Parker and Mr. Pearson.
A. Miss P. is a native of the colony, and a decided favourite with the Sydney folks. Pearson only arrived from London a month ago, but he has already “gained golden opinions from all sorts of men.” What afterpiece had you?
T. Frederick of Burgundy, which I did not stop to see, having a supper engagement at eleven in the New Town. I only waited between the tragedy and afterpiece to hear your very efficient orchestra play one or two popular airs. I also heard them, in the early part of the evening, perform the celebrated overture of Berges to The German Tragedy, in a manner that would not have disgraced Antagli’s celebrated Corps de Musique in the English Opera House.
A. I am glad, on the whole, that you have been pleased with our attempts in this way.
T. I certainly did not expect to meet with either so much taste or execution in this part of the world.
A. Was the bouse well filled?
T. Pretty fair. The boxes were rather crowded about nine o’clock. By the way, in the stage-box to-night, I observed a very fine woman, accompanied by a middle-aged lady and a venerable looking gentleman.
A. Oh! that is our Lord Chief Justice Bel-more’s family. Miss Belmore is very much admired in the higher circles.
T. And deservedly so, I think. I have not seen a sweeter expression of countenance even in England, that land of beauty.
A. She is an Englishwoman. T. I thought as much.
A. Begging your pardon, my friend, I do not think you thought any such thing. Are you so ignorant as not to know that Barlow, the author of a work on this country, published in England, and entitled, “Five Years Residence in Australia and the adjacent Settlements,” says, that the higher classes of females in this colony partake more of the Grecian contour of countenance than any of the inhabitants of Europe!
T. With all my heart, my good Sir. I would not disparage the Australian belles for a trifle. Place aux dames d’Australien, by all means.
A. I would not certainly detract from Miss Bel-more’s charms, but, I can assure you we have some very fine women both in Sydney and the country.
T. I believe it; nay, I know it.
A. Talking of Grecian countenances, how do you like the porch of the Theatre Royal? The pillars are pure Grecian.
T. I know not whether they are pure Grecian or not, but they are certainly very handsome, and look well from the street.
A. Do you know that the Atheneum and the Theatre are built on the site of an old church-yard?
T. No, I was not aware of the melancholy fact.
A. It is the fact, however. That part of George-street was, in former days, the receptacle for the dead; and where Literature holds her reign and Thalia amuses her votaries was once a charnel-house.
T. Singular enough revolution, certainly.
A. When do you expect the Rapid will start for England?
T. She will sail positively on Sunday first, I was told at the Steam Packet Office.
A. Then I will see you not at my country-residence to spend to-morrow and the next day?
T. I will not promise.
A. You must not disappoint me. (Exeunt.)
(To be continued.)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/2206819
DIALOGUE FIFTH.
SCENE.–The Library of Australian.
Time.–Two o’clock.
Australian and Traveller discovered together, discussing, amongst other subjects, the individual merits of a cold roast fowl and a glass of Madeira.
Trav. This Madeira is excellent–bright as the Summer sun, and mellow as Autumn.
A. I flatter myself it is. I had it direct from the island, from a friend who resides, there, and who gave it a trip to Calcutta before he sent it to me.
T. The people of Australia know how to make the most of the good things of this world.
A. About as well as our British ancestors.
T. Well thought of.–Talking of Britain brings to mind that, rummaging in my portmanteau, I dis-covered two or three of the best and latest comedies that have been published in London, which I brought with me, and which you will favour me by accepting.
A. Many thanks.
T. If you happen to have any friend behind the “green curtain,” you may chance to get them tolerably well cast for your Theatre Royal.
A. I have no acquaintance personally either with the manager or the actors, but my young friend Dunning, who is one of the members of committee for the Theatre Royal, will, I have little doubt, accept them gladly.
T. I suppose you have but few play-wrights of your own yet.
A. Very few. Those who have tried their hand and their head in this way have not been very successful.
T. You need not regret it as long as there are so many clever writers in England. Amongst these I have brought you there are one or two excellent, particularly The Widow Bewitched, which took amazingly at the New Covent Garden.
A. Nothing remains of the dramatic experience of our ancestors but the famous line–“True patriots they, for, be it understood, They left their country for their country’s good!” This couplet is taken from the Botany Bay prologue, said to be the first poetry written on these shores, and, curious enough, it still survives.
T. What is meant by the term patriots?
A. I believe it was the immense surplus population that England had at that time caused the government to provide a number of ships, which they fitted out for this place, and gave a free passage to all who availed themselves of the opportunity. This was thought to benefit the Mother Country, and hence the term patriots.
T. Exactly. I always understood that it was a great number of people, who were convicted of sundry crimes and misdemeanours at some heavy quarter session, that were first sent out here.
A. I do not know. That is the Australian version. Some of the old people are rather touchy when asked about the first settlers, but I never heard the reason. By the way, how does the Home Gaol-System work, now that they have abandoned the West Indies?
A. Oh, very well. They find it answer almost as well as the Americans do. How do you dispose of your Australian rogues?
A. We send them all to Moreton.
T. Is that your only penal settlement?
A. The only one. Altogether, there are about 5,000 souls there, including soldiers.
T. And how are they employed?
A. In various ways. There is as much maize grown at Moreton as will supply Government throughout the year. The crop seldom or ever fails. There is an old man in Sydney at present who was banished for shooting at Governor Bedford, but who one day saved the Commandant of the settlement from drowning, and got leave to return to Sydney, after spending 25 years of his life there.
T. A pretty fair penance.
A. You may see old William now. He keeps a small print shop in the Old Turnpike House, at the North gate of Cooper-street.
T. I did come across him one day, and a strange old fellow he is.
A. William has seen many changes in the colony. He recollects the first four-horse stage-coach starting for Bathurst, now eighty years ago. He recollects when there was not a single house on Elizabeth Hill. In fact, he is quite a colonial chronicle. His father, who died at a good old age, recollects Governor Malcolm’s arrival, the successor of General Bourke.
T. Your list of governors, I should think, must look like a table of the early Scotch kings.
A. Yes, pretty lengthy. Lord William is our thirty-sixth governor.
T. I think you told me the other day, when I parted from you, that you were going to attend an extraordinary meeting of your Oil Gas Company. What was the object of the meeting and how did you succeed?
A. The principal object of the meeting was the introduction of a new burner which we have just got from England, and the propriety of adopting it here.
T. Which light was it?
A. The Denby Rose-leaf.
T. A beautiful light–eclipses the old Batwing completely. I saw it first tried in London, along the front of the General Post Office, and the effect was brilliant beyond conception.
A. I am glad to say that the major part of the meeting were of your opinion. A few of the old hands stickled at it a little, as they like better to pocket the present dividend than make alterations.
T. But it will benefit your Company materially.
A. Of course it will. We carried by a majority of 180.
T. I was quite pleased with the appearance of your streets after sunset. They are excellently lighted.
A. Government-house is much admired at night for its range of gaslights.
T. I went one evening to the Lower Gardens on purpose to witness it. It is a beautiful sight. I was also much pleased with the night-view across the water. The reflection of the lights in Port Jackson, the busy hum of voices, the rattling of carriages, and the various cries, carried my imagination back to London.
A. I daresay it might. Ours, however, is a miniature; yours is a full grown, or, rather, overgrown picture.
T. Hearing nothing, too, but the English language strengthened the impression, and I really enjoyed a very pleasant ten minutes night-dream, looking at the busy scene over the parapet railing.
A. I had a very curious brochure put into my hand the other day, on the “Spread and Perpetuity of the British Language.”
T. Who is it written by?
A. By one of our young Australian candidates for fame. He is inclined to think that, sooner or later, the English language will be the only one in use on the face of the globe. He instances this country and the adjacent isles, the Americas, India, and the West Indies, as all rapidly approaching to this termination. On the whole, although a speculative performance, his deductions are good and well-drawn; and his firm belief is, that the day will come when the English language will be spoken in all the countries of the world, “from morn to noon, from noon to dewy eve.”
T. Say a thousand years hence.
A. Our Australian is inclined to place this consummation at a much earlier date.
T. At all events, although there will be many to combat his opinions, there will be not one able, at the present day, to prove that be is in the wrong, as many generations will be in the “appointed house” before that revolution comes round.
A. There is an extract in it which pleased me as well, if not better, than all our author’s fanciful theories.
T. And pray, what might that be?
A. It is an extract from a work entitled “Morgan’s Essays on Shakespeare’s Characters,” and seems to be quotod from the conclusion of the work. It runs thus–(reads)–“Our language, in all probability, will not share the fate of that of Rome, and the tongue of Shakespeare and Milton will be vernacular in regions of the existence of which they did not dream. The Appalachian mountains, the plains of Soila, and the banks of the Ohio–
(T. The Hunter, the Hawkesbury, and the Murrumbidgee!)
–shall resound with the accents of Shakespeare. In his native tongue shall roll the genuine passions of nature; nor shall the griefs of Lear be alleviated, nor the charms or wit of Rosalind be abated by time.”
T. The language of that passage is, indeed, beautiful, and it opens up a source of thought almost inexhaustible.
A. Generally speaking, what do you think of our public buildings in this part of the world?
T. Why, I am inclined to place the sacred before the profane. Your churches are all highly elegant structures.
A. St. James’?
T. Very handsome. The spire, perhaps, a little too heavy near the base, but that is compensated by its immense height. It shows well against your fine clear sky.
A. The purest Gothic I have seen out of London. The Eastern door, especially, is very tastefully executed.
A. I am glad you are pleased with them.
T. After all, for length of range, imposing appearance, and the beautiful order in which it is kept, nothing pleased me so much as your Military Barracks.
A. did you notice the royal arms above the principal gateway, which faces George-street?
T. I did. There is nothing like the alto relievo for effect. Its lightness and tracery-like appearance gives it a decided advantage over the basso relievo. Was it done here?
A. It was, by a young native artist of the name of Swain. Government gave him a douceur of a hundred guineas for it.
T. Merit should always be amply rewarded.
A. Merit is not overlooked in this colony, I assure you. We are all anxious to advance Australia in this particular as much as possible.
T. And I must not overlook three o’clock, or I will likely lose my ticket at the Packet Office. Will you step with me that length.
A. With pleasure. I see you are about taking leave of us to-morrow.
T. I must, and you know what Juliet says, “What must be must.”
A. I hope to be more at your service when you pay a second visit to New South Wales.
T. And I hope to have more leisure, to be able to avail myself of your kind services.–Shall I see you to-morrow?
A. Surely. I shall be on the wharf before the boats go off, and will accompany you to the Heads, as I breakfast in that vicinity to-morrow.
T. I will be glad of your company so far, and hope to get you a little further than the Heads the next time I sail for England.
(Exeunt.)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/2206874
Now available as an audio book read by my AI avatar:
What do you think of this story? What predictions became reality?
When looking at this story, consider its historical context.
When looking at it through the lens of race theory, some sentences are quite progressive for its time.
When looking at it through a modern British culture lens, attitudes and language haven’t changed much for the upper classes.
Through an Australian culture lens, a lot has changed, though this could be due to the development of the tall poppy syndrome that had become part of our culture by 1871, making these two dialogues about two successful people talking about their successes and the successes around them a painful read.
Through a science fiction research lens, this dialogue suggests this story is part of Australia’s science fiction heritage, although the author would have best set his story only 50 years hence rather than 200. The main focus here is on invention, and a lot of early science fiction in Australia, at least until the 1910s, mainly used futuristic inventions that plots either revolved around or were incidental to spicing up a romance. No doubt there are others waiting to be discovered like this one where the lack of words such as ‘chapter’ , ‘invention’, and ‘scientist’ have so far kept them hidden.
