e past and the surroundings of the present; between
the penal life that reigned here in 1840, and the healthy, contented
existence characterizing the Hobart in which the author is writing these
notes!

The view from Mount Wellington is justly famed for its varied and
comprehensive character. The city with its gracefully undulating
conformation, lying at the visitor's feet, is framed by a three-quarter
circle of tree-covered hills, relieved by the river Derwent, which
conducts the eye seaward by its bright, sparkling, and winding stream.
Turning to the view inland, there lies beneath a beautiful blue sky,
just touched here and there by fleecy clouds, a fair and lovely land
diversified by rivers, lakes, forests, villages, and towns,--some of the
latter in the valleys, some on the open plains, some perched on the
mountain-sides, and all together forming a most fascinating,
far-reaching picture of the fairest section of Australasia.

Hobart also has its Botanical Garden, covering an area of over twenty
acres near the centre of the town. It is filled with ornamental trees,
flowers, and fruit-trees from every part of the world, the sweet-scented
shrubs rendering the dewy morning atmosphere fragrant even in
mid-winter. Geraniums, cacti, tiger-lilies, and many creeping plants
were flowering as though in a tropical climate, not at all abashed by
the snow-caps upon some of the mountain ranges in sight. This garden
slopes down in beautiful form to the waters of the harbor, and is washed
by the blue Derwent. The city is supplied with good drinking-water from
a copious, never-failing crystal spring, situated half-way up Mount
Wellington. The street scenes have the usual local color; like those of
Launceston, they embrace the typical miner, with his rude kit upon his
shoulder, consisting of a huge canvas-bag, a shovel and pick. The
professional chimney-sweep, with blackened face and hands begrimed, whom
we lost sight of years ago in Boston and London, is seen here pursuing
his vocation. Market-men have the same singular mode of delivering
purchases to their customers as we noted elsewhere, and are seen
constantly galloping upon little wiry horses, bearing upon their arms
large well-filled baskets. Women with scores of slaughtered rabbits cry
them for sale at sixpence a pair, besides which they realize a bounty
for killing the pests. Let us not forget to mention the lovely,
rosy-cheeked children and handsome maidens met at every few