which their sinister forebodings told them was all
but inevitable with a small but adventurous band.
You nevertheless plunged into the unknown regions
that lay before you. After the lapse of a few
months without any tidings of your progress or fate,
the notion became generally entertained that your
party had fallen victims to some one of the many dangers
it had been your lot to encounter; that you had perished
by the hands of the hostile natives of the interior;
that want of water or exposure to tropical climate
were even but a few of the many evils to which you
had rendered yourself liable, and to the influence
of some one or more of which it was but too probable
you had fallen a prey. Two parties successively
went out with the hope of overtaking you, or at least
of ascertaining some particulars of your fate.
The result of these efforts was, however, fruitless,
and but few were so sanguine as to believe in the
possibility of you or your comrades being still in
existence. I need not recall to the recollection
of those here present, the surprise, the enthusiasm,
and the delight, with which your sudden appearance
in Sydney was hailed, about six months ago. The
surprise was about equal to what might be felt at
seeing one who had risen from the tomb; a surprise,
however, that was equalled by the warm and cordial
welcome with which you were embraced by every colonist;
and when we listened to the narrative of your long
and dreary journey—the hardships you had
endured, the dangers you had braved, the difficulties
you had surmounted—the feeling with which
your return amongst us was greeted, became one of
universal enthusiasm. For it would indeed be difficult
to point out, in the career of any traveller, the
accomplishment of an equally arduous undertaking,
or one pregnant with more important results, whether
we contemplate them in a scientific, an economical,
or a political point of view. The traversing,
for the first time by civilised man, of so large a
portion of the surface of this island, could not fail
to be attended with many discoveries deeply interesting
to the scientific inquirer, in botany, geology, and
zoology. Your contributions to each of these
departments of knowledge have consequently been equally
novel and valuable. In a social and economical
point of view, it is difficult, if not impossible,
to over-estimate the importance of the discovery recently
made of an all but boundless extent of fertile country,
extending to the north, soon to be covered with countless
flocks and herds, and calculated to become the abode
of civilized man. In its political aspect, the
possession of an immense territory, now for the first
time discovered to be replete with all those gifts
of nature which are necessary for the establishment
and growth of a civilized community, cannot be regarded
as a fact of small importance; nor the possession
of a continuous tract of fine and fertile land, that
connects us with the shores of the Indian ocean, and
which would appear to render the Australian continent