THE LAST MAN.

These were supposed to be the last of the aboriginal inhabitants of Tasmania; though a report at one time prevailed that a solitary young man had been left behind.  If this be the case, his position must be truly lamentable.  Alone of all his race on that vast island, belonging to a people against whom the deepest prejudices are entertained, who have been hunted down like wild beasts by the new population, professing a religion which should teach them to act otherwise towards their brethren, no resource must have been left to him but to fly to the most inaccessible fastnesses, to hide in the gloomiest forests and darkest caverns, and to pass the remainder of his miserable life in constant struggles to prolong it, and in ceaseless endeavours to stave off that final consummation which could alone ensure him peace, and safety, and rest.  Whether or not the report of the existence of this Last Man was true I cannot say; but, certainly, his story, imaginary or real, suggests numerous reflections, and opens a wide field for conjecture and speculation.  What was the character of his thoughts, what importance he attached to the prolongation of his life, cut off as he was from the world, a solitary being, with no future prospect of the enjoyment of society, with no hope of seeing his race continued, we cannot tell.  But his fate, at least, must force upon us the questions—­have we dealt justly by these wild people? have we nothing to answer for, now that we have driven them from their native land, leaving no remnant, save one single individual, whose existence even is problematical?  Without wishing to press too hard on any body of my countrymen, I must say I regret that that page of history which records our colonization of Australia must reach the eyes of posterity.

The woman, whose capture I have more than once alluded to, was, doubtless, the wife of one of the young men taken by the sealers, and mother of the boy who accompanied him.  The prospect of meeting her probably lightened the hours of his captivity.  But what a tale of suffering she had to relate!  What had she not undergone as the penalty of an attempt to procure food for her family.  With the narrative of her sorrows fresh in my memory, I could not but sympathize deeply with the last five of the aboriginal Tasmanians that now stood before me.

CHARACTERISTICS AND REMOVAL OF NATIVES.

These natives differed even more than others I had seen as the wives of sealers, from the inhabitants of the Australian continent, possessing quite the negro cast of countenance, and hair precisely of their woolly character.  These characteristics are nowhere to be found on the continent, natives from every part of which have come under my observation.  The difference existing is so great, that I feel warranted in pronouncing them to be a distinct race.  Excellent likenesses of Tasmanian natives will be found in Strzelecki’s work on New South Wales, where the truth of these remarks will be perceived at a glance.