284 MEMOIR OF DR. HAR VEY. 



February 27th. Rose early, and at eight o'clock, hearing 

 church-bells ringing, I stepped in, partly to see what daily 

 service in Hobart-town was like. It was the " cathedral " 

 church, and there were present four ladies and one man, besides 

 myself and the pew-opener — as large a congregation as would 

 probably be found in St. Paul's, London, at the same hour. 

 I thought it a day of very small things. After breakfast Mr. N. 

 took me to the public library, and made me free of it. Its 

 chief nucleus seems to be the library of Mr. Bicheno, who was 

 Colonel Page's companion when he visited us at Miltown, and 

 who afterwards was Colonial Secretary here. 



February 28th. Met a phrenological party at G. W. W.'s 

 house, — paid ten shillings for having my head felt, and got a 

 sheet of gammon and spinach in lieu thereof. 



March 1st. Sailed for Port Arthur. There was a large party 

 of chained convicts on board, guarded by soldiers. I lay below 

 on a sofa with a book, and fell asleep, but fortunately awoke just 

 as we approached Cape Raoul, the first remarkable point, and 

 a splendid object from any and every side, being a narrow 

 jutting headland of basaltic columns nearly 300 feet high at the 

 highest point, and from fifty to eighty at the lowest, standing 

 together like the pipes of an organ, the top in many parts broken, 

 so that single pillars stand out like pinnacles. Parts are like 

 Gothic architecture, and as we passed close beneath, the dis- 

 position of the rocks varied from moment to moment, every few 

 minutes presenting a new view. The columns are not very 

 perfect, being more like those of F airhead than of the Causeway. 

 Another point, Cape Pillar, is a still finer basaltic headland, but 

 of this we had only distant views. Port Arthur is a place of 

 extreme beauty, though the den of thieves. 



March 1th. I took an excursion to Eagle Hawk Neck, a narrow 

 strip of sandbank which unites Tasman's Peninsula to the other. 

 It is fifteen miles distant from Port Arthur. My friend and 

 host, W. A. H. Boyd, furnished me with a brisk little pony, which 

 carried me very pleasantly there and back. For the first nine 

 miles, the road, a bridle-track, is carried chiefly through a dense 

 forest of tall trees, with a thick undergrowth of bushes, and 

 rank grass and sedge. One of the sedges was a giant of its 

 kind, growing twelve to fourteen feet, with tall brown panicles of 

 flowers. The road brought me to the shores of Norfolk Bav, 



