don, in the valley of Glen Roy, in Scotland, forming the roads of Fingal, on the coast of Norway, and on the shores of Italy, we find abundant proofs that even the firm-set earth on which we tread is not exempt from the vicissitude and change to which all created things are subjected.

"Of chance or change, oh! let not man complain,
Else shall he never, never cease to wail;

For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Rears the lone cottage in the silent dale,
All feel the assault of Fortune's fickle gale:
Art, empire, earth itself to change are doom'd;
Earthquakes have raised to heaven the humble vale,
And gulfs the mountain's mighty mass entomb'd:
And where the Atlantic rolls wide continents have
bloom'd."

The sandstone of Sydney contains no fossil animal remains by which its geological age can properly be ascertained; and it will require much labour and careful examination to determine its exact geological position in relation to European deposits. From the examination of rocks found associated with it at Illawarra and on the Hunter, and from their fossil contents, it would appear to be contemporaneous with the older silurian deposits of Europe. There is, at all events, abundant evidence to prove that New South Wales is among the oldest parts of the globe; contrary to the fancy of

some philosophers, who, from the novelty observable in the forms of its plants and animals, conceive that its existence must have been posterior to, and independent of the rest of the world.

When seen from a distance, the Australian coast wears a very unpromising aspect. Composed of a line of sandstone rocks,―sculptured in many places, by exposure to the weather, into the most grotesque and fantastic shapes, and partially clothed with stunted evergreen shrubs, alternating with patches of white sand, -the tame coast-line gives no promise of the beautiful scenery it conceals, and speaks of nothing but barrenness and desolation to those who have left behind them the refreshing luxuriance of English scenery, or the wilder landscapes of Scotland and Ireland. But the eye which has been jaundiced by looking so long on the unvarying circle of the dark blue ocean"unchangeable save in its wild waves' play "longs for a green spot on which to repose; and the heart, panting for freedom from its floating prison-house, bounds forward to welcome the promised land. The prospect improves as we approach the Heads. The high precipitous rocks, frowning defiance to the waves of the Pacific, which break in whiteness at their base, arrest the eye of the stranger by

their grandeur and extraordinary excavations ; and the light-house, whose cheering beam had shone like a meteor for leagues over the waters, now rises in its beauty on the brow of the rocky coast flanked by Macquarie Tower-a building which, like many other of the works of man, appears to have been erected more for ornament than use.

The pleasing intelligence that an English vessel has entered the Heads has been known for some time in Sydney, although she has not yet come within sight of the city; for the pilot is on board, and he has spoken, in the language of his profession, to the signal post on the South Head, which has, in its turn, addressed itself to the citizens of Sydney and the inhabitants of Paramatta. Conjecture is afloat as to the name and cargo of the vessel. Some are expecting friends, others merchandise, but all entertain the hope of a letter from home. It is, accordingly, no wonder that the signal of a vessel from England is always a welcome sight to natives of that country, or their descendants now dwelling at the antipodes of their fatherland. But, while all is flutter and excitement in Sydney, the vessel under a favourable breeze is pursuing the even tenor of her way, “walking the waters like a thing of life," and bearing in her bosom the heralds of hope to some

H

of misfortune and distress to others.

She has, likewise, on board some anxious hearts throbbing for a sight of the long looked-for city. After all the dangers, and privations, and disappointments usually attending a long voyage, none but those who have felt can conceive the delightful sensations produced by the symptoms of a near approach to the termination of their journey. Within the last few hours what a variety of conflicting feelings have agitated the breasts of the inmates of that vessel! Before the coast was visible messengers had come to bid them be of good cheer, for the expected shore was at hand. The sea-weed, and broken branches of trees, drifting past; the chirping of a bird from one of the vessel's yards; the flutter of a tiny butterfly, sporting its painted wings in the sunbeams, flashing among the cordage like a pencil of rainbow-light, but preferring a return to its native woods, to the pleasure of being impaled on a needle for the gratification of the curious;-had all spoken eloquently to these wanderers o'er the deep, of the proximity of the country. At length the delightful sound of "Land! land!" had burst on the ear, like the voice of him that bringeth glad tidings of great joy; and the first faint glimpse of the coast floating in the far distance, like a cloud on the horizon, had been welcomed

with as much pleasure as was experienced by the inmates of the Ark, while resting on Mount Ararat, when they received the olive-branch from the dove, in token that the waters had assuaged from the face of the earth, and that the dry land was beginning to reappear. "On, on the vessel flies; " the glorious sun of Australia is high in the heavens; the outline of the coast becomes clearer every moment. The breeze that now fans their cheeks comes loaded with the fragrance of the woods. The deck is crowded with eager, delightful faces, all turned in one direction-all actuated by one wish-all anxious once more to feel the ground beneath them; once more to look on the pleasing diversity of wood, and mountain, and valley, to which they have so long been strangers. Even the dumb animals on board seem to partake of the common excitement, and neigh, or low, or bleat, to express their joyful welcome. But the vessel, having at last entered between the Australian Pillars of Hercules, is now rapidly gaining on Bradley's Head, and in a few minutes the city of Sydney in all its beauty will be exposed to sight.

Let us, however, take a glance at the harbour through which we are passing. There does not, perhaps, in any part of the world, exist a more beautiful, extensive, and