2 66 Excursion to Port Arthur. 
Goderich , which had landed her convicts, standing down 
the river in company. It was one of those delicious 
mornings which inspire the heart and enchant the senses. 
The numerous diversified bights and bays of the glorious 
Derwent glanced sweet and softly to the early sun ; the 
country showing fresh and verdant after the recent rains. 
About 8 o’clock A. M. a moderate sea-breeze sprung 
up. This obliged us to work to windward, to enable us 
to round the Iron Pot and Betsy’s Islands, a task we 
completed in a couple of hours; after which, the lively 
Eliza was permitted to run before a steadily increasing 
breeze, which tempered the otherwise sultry heat of 
noon. 
Point after point opened to our view in swift and 
pleasing succession. The water was of mirror-like 
smoothness—the glowing sky unconscious of a cloud— 
the bright sands of many a fair shore glittered gaily— 
the forest murmured musically to the wind—the air 
seemed charged with odours, and all nature breathed 
harmony and joy : in a word, it was one of those 
fascinating moments when mere animal existence is a 
bliss of transcendant enjoyment. The breeze continued 
to freshen, and we sped along the shores of Frederick 
Henry Bay with a flowing sheet. The characteristics of 
Frederick Henry Bay bear a somewhat close affinity to the 
imposing scenery which greets the visitor of far-famed 
Loch Linne. In the Scottish waters, the deep inland 
projections are termed lochs, whilst the like sea-arms of 
Tasmania are designated bays. Both are beautiful: 
each has its points of resemblance to the other; the 
southern mountains, however, unlike the time-worn, 
weather-beaten cliffs of poetic Morven, rise and fall in 
graceful undulations, and are divested of the savage 
precipitous grandeur of the Scottish hills : they are, 
moreover, clothed with living wood, and illumined by 
