of all but a few brands.  Of course all vintages from the same grapes differ, but there is a margin of difference beyond which a wine may not go, and with many an Australian vigneron this margin is frequently passed, owing to carelessness or inexperience in manufacture.  Another drawback is the difficulty of procuring all but the most immature wine.  Nearly the whole of each vintage is drunk within twelve months after it is made.  That Australian wines will ever compete with the famous French crus I should very much doubt, but that they will in the course of the next twenty years gradually supersede with advantage a great deal of the manufactured stuff now drunk in England is more than probable.  At present the prices are too high for Australian wines to find any large market at home.  Although it is of course an exceptional case, there is an Adelaide madeira which fetches as much as 63s. per dozen within two miles of the vineyard.  Nothing now obtainable in Australia under 15s. a dozen would be worth sending home, and by the time freight and duty is added to that, the London price would be considerable.

I have already made allusion to that peculiar phase of Australian life—­nobblerising; but, if I am not mistaken, the impression left on your mind will be that the nobbler is either of aristocratic champagne or plebeian beer.  But there are two other liquids—­whisky and brandy—­which play an important part in nobblerising.  The quantity of spirits drunk in Australia is appalling.  Whisky is the favourite spirit, then brandy, and rarely Schiedam, schnapps, or gin.  And what about drunkenness?  Statistically it is not very much worse than in England, but the difference lies in the class who get drunk.  Here it is not merely the lower classes, but everybody that drinks.  Not a few of the wealthiest and most leading citizens are well-known to be frequently drunk, though their names do not, of course, appear in the papers or in the police reports.  The state of public feeling on the subject, though improving, is much as it was in England twenty or thirty years ago.  Society says, ’Capital fellow, Jones; pity he drinks!’ but no social reprobation attaches to Jones.  He may be known to be carried to bed every night, for all it affects his reputation as a respectable and respected citizen.  But with the advance of civilization better times are coming in these matters.  It is no more so absolute a necessity to take a nobbler as it was ten years ago.  Drunkenness, if not reprobated, is no longer considered a ‘gentlemanly vice.’  A man who drinks is pitied.  This is the first step.  Before long blame will tread in the steps of pity.