it is
unfortunately getting too dark to see much. There is not a long gloaming
in northern New Zealand--once the sun has dropped below the horizon
darkness succeeds very rapidly; so, though we get an indistinct glimpse
at some houses on the shore as we sail along, it is quite dark as we
round the North Shore and come into Auckland harbour.

There goes the anchor at last, with a plunge and a rattle! Now the good
ship is swinging in the current of the Waitemata, and the voyage, that
at its commencement seemed so long and that now appears to have been so
short, is fairly terminated. Before us, extending to right and left, and
up and down, are thousands of lights glittering and twinkling over the
shadowy outlines of the city; while into our ears is borne the welcome
hum and stir of city life. There is no going ashore until next
morning--until the health officer and the customs shall have boarded and
inspected us. So that night is devoted to the bustle and confusion of
packing up; and various spoony couples moon about the decks, renewing
promises and vows in expectation of their parting on the morrow.

When morning comes we make our bow to Auckland. There it lies, this
Antipodean city, looking so white and clean and fair in the morning
sunshine, stretching away to right and left, rising in streets and
terraces from the shore, cresting the heights with steeples and
villa-roofs, and filling up the valleys below. In the far background is
the heavy brow of Mount Eden, whose extinct crater we shall explore
by-and-by, and whence we shall obtain a splendid view of the entire
city, its suburbs, and the surrounding country.

From our point of view out in the harbour the city presents a scattered
and uneven appearance, that adds to its generally picturesque aspect. As
a central feature are the long lines of wharves and quays with their
clustering shipping; just beyond these is evidently the densest part of
the city. Huge and imposing stone buildings stand thickly here, showing
that it is the centre of the business part of Auckland. To right and
left the ground rises abruptly and steeply, and the streets become
irregular in outline. Nor is the shore a straight and continuous line;
these heights on either hand are promontories jutting out into the
stream, and hiding deep bays behind them, round which, straggling and
irregular, sweeps the city.

The further our eyes travel from the centre of the picture, the more do
we lose sight of