surprise excited in beholding the imposing front of a large town, where he had expected to find the appearances of civilisation rude and indistinctly marked amid the surrounding wilderness. Already, however, forty-eight years having barely elapsed since the foot of the first white settler trode that shore, successful enterprise and well applied labour have produced the appearances that mark the harbours of old countries. The site of the town, occupying as it does the summits and declivities of gentle hills, is most favourable for the production of architectural effect. Heavy masses of building, churches with their steeples or towers, villa-like dwellings, being thus placed in prominent positions, bestow a beauty and dignity on the general appearance, which is only heightened by the character of the surrounding scenery.

From the white beach that surrounds the lake-like harbour, low wooded hills rise, either abruptly or from level green valleys, in which lie nestled pretty verandahbuilt houses, generally buried beneath foliage and green venetians. Over all, towers the majestic form of Mount Wellington, covered with brushwood and detached trees; it rises to a height of four thousand feet above the level of the sea, and within two or three miles of the shore. This fact no doubt heightens the impression which such an elevation is calculated to make on the beholder, as he sees it in a manner isolated from all those causes which are apt to diminish the actual size. During my stay at Hobart Town its snowy summit was often hidden by clouds, which, intercepting the rays of the sun, threw its base into deep shade, thus forming a contrast to the light and sunny appearance of the town, that increased the effect of its most important buildings.

(Continued.)

IT is a subject of congratulation to us that so much diligence is displayed at school. Already the apathy and reluctance manifested by some have been converted into earnest application, which is beginning to bear fruits. The Saturday examination of the classes by the Surgeon Superintendent must act as a stimulus upon all who wish to benefit themselves by earning his good opinion.

The internal harmony continues as uninterrupted as the favourable winds, which are fast wafting us to the equator. Above, we have a serene sky-within, a peaceful but progressive calm. Off the Cape de Verde islands a few unhappy swallows visited us, being driven by the wind, while too eager in the pursuit of their insect food

to regard the consequences of deserting their terrene homes. One by one they perished in the implacable ocean. A different lot belongs to the stormy petrels that are constantly pursuing us. Thousands of miles from land, they seek no home but the restless deep. With a wing that never seems to tire, day and night they skim incessantly the surface of the rolling waves, from which their dusky forms seem to rise, like spirits of the thousand dead, who, forgotten, sleep below.

We regret that we have been compelled, by the want of contributions from the prisoners, to accept articles from others, but we hope there will be no cause in our next Number to express a similar sentiment.

D. R.

No. IV.-MAY 19, 1853.

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead past bury its dead!
Act-act in the living present,
Heart within, and God o'erhead.

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate:
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour, and to wait.
LONGFELLOW.

ESSAY ON TIME.

We cannot seize upon any

WHAT is Time? This question has received perhaps a thousand answers—all vague, indistinct, or indeterminate. When the lexicographer defines time as the measure of duration, he says little more than that time is time. Grammarians divide time into past, present, and future; but this does not render the question, viewed in the abstract, less perplexing. portion of it for the purpose Past time is gone for ever. as much beyond our power of recall as the years before the flood. While we think of present time, it eludes our grasp, and passes away to join the ages that are past. Future time! we know not how small a portion of it may be allotted to us, we cannot speculate upon it without the gift of prophecy.

of analyzation or dissection. The hours of yesterday are

Where is to-morrow? in another world!
To thousands this is certain. The reverse
Is sure to none.

A talented writer in Chambers's Journal (writing in a rambling way on this subject), makes use of the following expression: Time is the life of God." But where is the sublime, or rather the truthful, in this definition? As God is from everlasting to everlasting, he might as well have said that "time is eternity."

The fact is, that, abstractly viewed, no definite answer can be given to the question, "What is time?" We can form no distinct conception of time unconnected with human life, its hopes and fears, its joys and sorrows. The whole of time is the aggregate of human life, from Adam to the last man. It began when God breathed into the first human being the breath of life, and it will end when the mighty "angel shall set one foot on the sea and the other on the land, and swear by Him who liveth for ever and ever that time shall be no longer." Time, to every child of Adam, is that portion of the aggregate which passes between his birth and his dissolution. Consequently, a practical answer to our question may be found in the words of Moses,-"It is no vain thing; it your life."

is

"Time is the season God hath given

To fly from hell, and rise to heaven;
That day of grace fleets fast away,

And none its rapid course can stay."

Apart from all speculation and abstract views, let us consider time practically as the life of man. First, time is short; second, it is uncertain; third, it is entirely at the disposal of the Supreme Ruler of the universe; fourth, it is a talent, for the use or abuse of which mankind will be held accountable. Space will not permit anything more than a few brief remarks on each of these ideas.

First-Time is short. It does not militate against the