settlement at Port Phillip, by the English Government, two vessels from England entering the Bay for that purpose; but the intention was abandoned, for it was thought that the search for fresh water would prove ineffectual. Whilst the Ocean and the Calcutta were at anchor, three convicts made their escape into the bush Gibson, afterwards a successful settler in Van Diemen's Land, a man of wealth and consequence; Buckley, destined for the space of thirty years to a strange and wild career in the new country, becoming naturalised among the aborigines; and the third convict it is supposed died, not willing to return like Gibson to the ship, or, like Buckley, to join himself to the hordes of naked and uncouth savages, tracking restlessly the mountains and wildernesses of a novel, and to them, mysterious region. In temporary dwellings of bark and boughs, shed-shaped, by fresh streams, in picturesque villages raised instantaneously, and at will, and left untenanted as carelessly; seeking their food in rivers and lakes, and woods without bound; fish in the waters, opossums and flying squirrels, or tuans, in hollow gum trees, and kangaroos and emus in woods and on the plains; amongst a wild and dusky people whose language, hearing hourly, he did not understand, and into whose mode of existence and customs he was uninitiated; silent amongst the talkative—lonely in society; how strange and mysterious must have been their relative positions! The aspect of the white man to them a source of amazement and curiosity; and to Buckley, recently from civilised life, with old habits and customs, and old appearances of things fastened to him like a coat of mail; to them he would seem the creature of another world, as though, as was believed of the Incas of Peru, he had descended from the sun; whilst to him, the novelty and freedom of such a situation would by degrees reconcile him to it, softening down insensibly what there was rude in their manners or disgusting in their culinary operations. If the supposed absence of water only prevented Port Phillip from becoming a penal settlement, the Yarra on its first discovery, and the delightful tracts of country in its neighbourhood, would cause the intelligence to fly trumpet-tongued through Van Diemen's Land, only severed from it by a narrow channel, and through the more distant regions of New South Wales. What stories would be spread of endless locations of the richest pasturage; and how eagerly anxiously welcome to the Tasmanians pent up in narrow limits, and to people in the older portions of the continent wearied with their torrid climate, and longing thirstily for a land of rivers, and springs of water, and of rain! It is a well-known fact that in the Sydney district there is often a season of excessive drought, sometimes for twelve and eighteen months; whilst in Australia Felix there is if either only too much rain, the westerly winds bringing it up over the land abundantly; and that if in summer the country is a month without it, the intense heat of the sun burns up the herbage universally. It will easily therefore be imagined how wretchedly off must be the eastern portion of the land, hotter too by several degrees. A more splendid and extensive country there is not in the world for sheep and cattle than Australia Felix: how fat and sleek are its immense herds! I speak not here of the immediate neighbourhood of the town, but of the country generally. When we arrived in the province, it had been located several years; yet how much more wild and new it seemed then than now! Wood up to the very town of Melbourne was abundant, both living and dead; the latter has now disappeared for miles and most of the former have a singular look, having been by the natives shorn of their honoured heads, for hire of bread, &c. for the new-comers; and are now covered again with green bushy crowns. The land has been thus cleared of slovenly dead boles and boughs, and is pleasanter-looking; pleasant enough in winter when the country is better watered, and is more park-like, smooth and green. PORT PHILLIP. The emigrant, on his arrival in Hobson's Bay, where the ships anchor, sees right on before him the northern beach, with its two hotels-the Pier-and the Marine hotel, &c. On his left hand William's-town, a small town yet: and on the right, only far lower down, Brighton; its neat and elegant residences on a natural terrace, one of the most delightful situations, if we except St. Kilda that is to be, for country villas, in the whole country. St. Kilda is indeed a remarkably green and beautiful knoll, covered pleasantly with she-oaks. A most conspicuous situation it is, and to persons who have been long at sea, a very agreeable object, where the ocean-weary eyes love to fix and repose themselves. Yes, that is the only green spot in the landscape; all the country besides is a dingy olive-brown, it has a kind of faded ancientness about it. Stranger, look intently along the white sandy beach, past the hotels, past the red headlands, on down to Brighton. That is a most delightful range of coast, which, if you are at all like me, you will return to again and again for a day's stroll. Often have I paced that alone, not for the observation of its every-day sights and sounds, although "There is society where none intrude, By the deep sea, and music in its roar;" but to see that pleasantest of all sights, a ship holding on steadily up the bay. These are like angel visits yet. If it is an English vessel, you see it in imagination set sail from the Downs, and here she is resting like the eagle after a long flight, anchored tranquilly, brooding over her own shadow. She brings you letters and the present is, and the past, swallowed up in one all-absorbing unconsciousness: time and space, sea and land, are in that mood of mind annihilated, and for aught you know to the contrary, you are in England! Two miles it is from the anchorage to the beach: where stood, when we first landed, one poor hut and now, besides two hotels, there are two wooden piers stretching out into the deeper waters of the bay. Thence it is two miles to the Yarra, if you choose to go by land: and by water, the circuitous course of the river is nine, if not ten miles, to the Basin, where brigs, and other small vessels, can be admitted comfortably. When you look at this ample and convenient sheet of water, you perceive that Nature, or the Genius of Australia Felix, intended Melbourne to be just where it is. Or you may fancy that it has been scooped out for the purpose to which it is applied, a very natural error. On our first setting foot there, it was in the mud; now, there is a noble wharf: and this, and the new custom-house, are great improvements. Still the neighbourhood is like a bog in the wet season, and now the town has overgrown its first infancy, ought not to be so; only let 66 effect a glorious revolution in the favour of Port Phillip, its separation from Sydney, and it will rise up out of other "Sloughs of Despond" besides this. MELBOURNE. Looking on the metropolitan city from either of its goodly eminences, the eastern or western hill, we can hardly persuade ourselves that a few years ago it was only-the ground on which it stands-traversed by dusky paint-smeared savages, and a few kangaroos; for now, running parallel with the river Yarra, it is a mile in length and half a one in breadth; a lusty, stately, bantling of a city it is; vigorous in its growth, of a cheerful aspect, and graceful in its proportions. Fronting the river is Flinders' Street, displaying many noble houses, with Englishgrassed lawns, one of them crowned with a graceful dome. Of these streets, running east and west, the principal is Collins Street, containing the most respectable assemblage of shops; in it are the banks, most of the places of worship, and it is indeed the great and well-known thoroughfare. Many other streets there are as large, all of convenient width, none so thronged and respectable. Queen Street, and Elizabeth Street, are the next in importance, running south and north. Bourke Street is the most frequented of any on the arrival of English and Scotch ships, for in it, at the corner of Elizabeth Street, is a convenient and good building-the Post-office; now respectable, for now it has a respectable post-master. The Mechanics' Institute in Collins Street is very well as a building-not so the debt upon it, 16007. It has a library, very small; and its secretary, an intelligent man, and as an artist well-known, reflects credit on the establishment. It would reflect as great credit on the Colonial Government if it would liquidate the debt; especially as it is the only Town Hall; therein being held the meeting of the Town Council. - Of the buildings next in importance are the Court House, the Jail, the Custom House: and pre-eminently, will be the best building in Melbourne a new Bank in Collins Street, of brown stone, and, with its Grecian architecture, graceful exceedingly. The Market-place is large enough for an infant city, and so are the market dues. Since Melbourne has been incorporated, the streets have improved considerably, good order has increased and been enforced, and so have the town rates. A change has also taken place in the magistracy much for the better; and in other respects also. for After all, the best and most encouraging object in Melbourne, and in Australia Felix, is not its Court House nor yet its capacious Prison, but its large handsome Bank in Collins Street; it is a bold announcement that the country will progress, and become prosperous and wealthy. The objects which in the town first attract the stranger's notice are the flags-not flag-stones-though of these there are some, but more dirt; flags flying about auction-rooms and the everlasting jingle of auction bells. Some dozen of such rooms there are there is a constant gleam of crimson flags, and distressing is the clang of bells. These auctions serve instead of English pawn-brokers' shops. Here are disposed of whatever almost in the shape of merchandize can be mentioned, paid for by : insolvent-merchant schedules and therefore, as they cost little, are sold amazingly cheap. Next to the bell-noise-makers, what strikes us as quite colonial is the immense numbers of drays, many loaded with wood drawn by four, six, and eight bullocks: few drays, drawn by horses in proportion. There is not so much variety in the shops as in old countries, necessity having, whilst there were few, compelled the shopkeepers to deal in almost everything. Thus "General Stores " are common. Another peculiarity: you see many people not to be mistaken; hard-face grim-visaged dry-countenanced workmen and women too-whom at a glance you recognize to have been convicts. Even amongst the richer folk there are some, not disguised by dress or wealth. The dresses of the people are peculiar too; light colours, and of lighter texture. The houses are roofed with wooden shingles-not inelegant covering and the heads of the human creatures with straw. Walking along Collins Street, you see of shops kept by Jews very many,-Levi's, Lazarus's, Nathan's, Soloman's, Simeon's, and Benjamin's. There is no lack of Liverpool, Manchester and London Marts-grand shops (one of them the smartest in Melbourne,) all kept by these people. Other peculiarities there are, quite Australian. On our first arrival we frequently met walking about on the Eastern Hill— tame of course-two emus. Parrots, the gorgeous native parrots, abound in cages; cockatoos also, but generally at liberty. On lawns and grass-plots, hop about or bask in the sun tame kangaroos. At one of the inns a pelican stalks in and out very leisurely. Nor is it anything extraordinary to see tame opossums and other animals of the country, tame exceedingly. But of all objects the wild, grotesque, painted, feather-ornamented, tea-tree-besom carrying natives, with their singular costumes, war-implements, and their wild gestures, grouped and scattered over the town, and with the shaggy accompaniment of dogs, give its most original feature to Melbourne. : The most delightful circumstance regarding Melbourne is its present position, standing as it does open on every side: your ingress and egress unobstructed by any kind of fences. You have not to enter it by roads, as you do towns in old countries. All the country so smooth, tree-studded, and park-like with a deal of its old primæval freedom and gracefulness about it. Much of this land will be sold, some time enclosed, and built upon but surely Melbourne will not be suffered to become a large overgrown town, in a hot country, without ample provision of spacious parks and squares, being made for its ornament, and |