of any size.
The city is laid out with a regularity that is almost painful. It
stands on a square mile of ground. At each side is a terrace,
called respectively North, South, East, and West Terrace. There are
squares laid out at regular intervals. As is usual in Australian
towns, the streets are all at right angles, and generally of the
same length and width. The Adelaide people claim to have the finest
street in the Colonies, the finest post office, and the best hotel.
King William Street is two chains wide--the widest streets in
Melbourne are 1-1/2 chains--is a mile long, and contains the
principal public buildings, the Town Hall, Post Office, Courts of
Justice, &c. The Post Office is a handsome building, with a lofty
tower, from which various signs are displayed notifying the arrival
and departure of mails. At night the electric light from the top can
be seen from a great distance. From King William Street start the
various lines of tramway in every direction from the city. They run
out to the various suburbs--Magill, Burnside, Kensington, Norwood,
Stepney, &c., some of which names sound very familiar. The tramcars
are as universally used as in Glasgow, and nowhere have I seen a
better service than in Adelaide. It is a pleasant way to spend an
afternoon, to ride outside a tramcar in the bright atmosphere, to
some suburb, and return after a ramble in the country. From beyond
the North Terrace is a capital view over the city. Perhaps the best
is from the house of Mr. Way, the Chief Justice. His villa, at which
I had the pleasure of visiting him, is one of the most complete I
have seen. Nothing is omitted that the arts of civilization can
supply. His library contains the choicest modern works. His garden
is delicious with cool grottos and fountains. In his aviaries is a
collection of the rare birds of the country, all of which he knows.
In a separate cage are two fine eagles. Among the flowers I noticed
the "Sturt Desert Pea," just then in blossom, the loveliest wild
flower of Australia. I have seen houses larger and finer, no doubt,
and better collections of particular objects, but never any place so
perfect of its kind. Some lines from the "Palace of Art"
involuntarily occurred to me, but to no man does the moral of
Tennyson's poem less apply than to the Chief Justice, for he is one
of the most sympathetic and kind-hearted of men. I had intended
staying at the Adelaide Club, and was provided with an introduction,
but