Excursion to Port Arthur . 
267 
a sun tliat rarely chases the cold grey mist from the 
frowning peaks of the north. 
We skirted Slopen Island, had a distant glimpse of 
Pittwater and the Carlton, and, shortly after noon, 
entered the magnificent lake-like sea, called, by Captain 
Flinders, Norfolk Bay. The prospect on every side was 
superb—the view a-liead terminating in a glorious salt¬ 
water vista, its apex formed by one of those graceful 
sugar-loaf hills so common to Tasmania. We were 
the centre of a moving panorama of beauty : bight after 
bight—channel after channel—glen after glen presented 
themselves in endless tortuous variety: each new feature, 
basking in all the ethereal loveliness of a spotless 
empyrean, seemed more attractive than the preceding; 
for, in a picture of harmonious grouping, that which is 
seen last is ever apt to be the most esteemed. Of the 
present it may be truly said there are few scenes to 
surpass it: hill, dale, wood, water, blent in one en¬ 
chanting whole. Every eye beamed with pleasure—every 
imagination revelled in the ravishing prospect. 
We called, to land convicts, at several probation 
stations on Tasman’s Peninsula : but as these were 
subsequently visited, I shall pass them over for the 
present, simply remarking, that our coasting trip made 
it night ere we let go the anchor off* Woody Island, near 
the top of Norfolk Bay. The sunset was in keeping 
with the beauty of day, being one of radiant glory, un¬ 
surpassed by any I ever witnessed within the tropics. 
The following morning broke forth in heavenly sweet¬ 
ness . The Eliza floated gracefully on the bright quiescent 
waters, and the beauteous landscape, sunk in calm repose, 
conveyed anything but an idea of being the receptacle of 
Britain’s off-scourings. Guilt and its attendant punish¬ 
ment seemed at utter variance with scenes and climes 
sufficient of themselves to excite gratitude and joy. 
