474 VAA' DIEM EN'S LAND chap. 



bsyond sensuality, and in this they are not gratified. The 

 enormous bribe which Government possesses in offering free 

 pardons, together with the deep horror of the secluded penal 

 settlements, destroys confidence between the convicts, and so 

 prevents crime. . As to a sense of shame, such a feeling does 

 not appear to be known, and of this I witnessed some very 

 singular proofs. Though it is a curious fact, I was universally 

 told that the character of the convict population is one of 

 arrant cowardice ; not unfrequently some become desperate, 

 and quite indifferent as to life, yet a plan requiring cool or 

 continued courage is seldom put into execution. The worst 

 feature in the whole case is, that although there exists what 

 may be called a legal reform, and comparatively little is 

 com nitted which the law can touch, yet that any moral reform 

 should take place appears to be quite out of the question. I 

 was assured by well-informed people that a man who should 

 try to improve, could not while living with other assigned 

 servants ; — his life would be one of intolerable misery and 

 persecution. Nor must the contamination of the convict-ships 

 and prisons, both here and in England, be forgotten. On the 

 whole, as a place of punishment, the object is scarcely gained ; 

 as a real system of reform it has failed, as perhaps would every 

 other plan ; but as a means of making men outwardly honest, 

 — of converting vagabonds, most useless in one hemisphere, 

 into active citizens of another, and thus giving birth to a new 

 and splendid country — a grand centre of civilisation — it has 

 succeeded to a degree perhaps unparalleled in history. 



30///. — The Beagle sailed for Hobart Town in Van 

 Diemen's Land. On the 5th of February, after a six days' 

 passage, of which the first part was fine, and the latter very 

 cold and squally, we entered the mouth of Storm Bay ; the 

 weather justified this awful name. The bay should rather be 

 called an estuary, for it receives at its head the waters of the 

 Derwent. Near the mouth there are some extensive basaltic 

 platforms ; but higher up the land becomes mountainous, and 

 is covered by a light wood. The lower parts of the hills 

 which skirt the bay are cleared ; and the bright yellow fields 

 of corn, and dark green ones of potatoes, appeared very 

 luxuriant. Late in the evening we anchored in the snug cove, 



