The world before me seemed not the one through which I had been hitherto straying. I seemed to have fallen from some bright field of manly strife, down, far down, into a dark and dreary land--there to wander friendless, unheeded and unloved, vainly seeking for something, I knew not what, and without the hope, or even the desire of finding it! I could not blame Lenore. She had broken no faith with me: none had been plighted between us. I had not even talked to her of love. Had she promised to await my return--had she ever confessed any affection for me--some indignation, or contempt for her perfidy, might have arisen to rescue me from my fearful reflections. But I was denied even this slight source of consolation. There was nothing for which I could blame her--nothing to aid me in conquering the hopeless passion, that still burned within my soul. I had been a fool to build such a vast superstructure of hope on a foundation so flimsy and fanciful. It had fallen; and every faculty of my mind seemed crushed amid the ruins. In one way only was I fortunate. I was in a land where gold fields of extraordinary richness, had been discovered; and I knew, that there is no occupation followed by man--calculated to so much concentrate his thoughts upon the present, and abstract them from the past--as that of gold hunting. Join a new rush to the gold fields, all ye who are weary in soul, and sorrow-laden, and the past will soon sink unheeded under the excitement of the present. I knew that this was the very thing I now required; and, from the moment of receiving the unwelcome tidings communicated by Mason, I relinquished all thought of returning to Liverpool. I did not tell my sister Martha of this sudden change in my designs; but, requesting her not to write, until she should first hear from me, I bade her farewell--leaving her in great grief, at my departure. Twenty-four hours after, I was passing out of the harbour of Sydney--in a steamer bound for the city of Melbourne. Volume Two, Chapter XX. THE VICTORIA DIGGINGS. My passage from Sydney to Melbourne, was made in the steamer "Shamrock," and, after landing on the shore of Port Philip, I tried to believe myself free from all that could attract my thoughts to other lands. I endeavoured to fancy myself once more a youth--with everything to win, and nothing to lose. The scenes I encountered in the young colony, favoured my efforts; and after a time, I began to take an interest in much that was transpiring around me. I could not very well do otherwise: since, to a great deal I saw in Melbourne, my attention was called, in a most disagreeable manner.