afford an abundant supply at all seasons for his farming establishment, besides forming an ornamental sheet of water in the vicinity of his residence. Water dammed up in this way, or even collected in large basins formed for the purpose, is not liable to become putrid in New South Wales as it frequently does in similar circumstances in Great Britain. There are many farms in the colony that have no other water than what is thus collected from the surface during heavy rains in natural basins or water-holes, as they are called by the colonists, the water in such holes or basins continuing pure and wholesome to the last drop. It would be difficult to account for the formation of these natural basins or reservoirs, some of which are of great depth, and have more the appearance of artificial than of natural productions; but their existence in all parts of the territory is a blessing of incalculable value to the colonial community.

About three miles beyond Campbelltown to the right is the dairy-farm or estate of Glenlee, to which I have elsewhere alluded. There is a large extent of cleared land on the Glenlee estate, the greater part of which has been laid down with English grasses, the paddocks being separated from each other by hedges of quince or lemon-tree-the usual but seldom-used colonial substitutes for the hawthorn. The country is of an undulating character, and the scenery from Glenlee House

-a handsome two-story house, built partly of brick and partly of a drab-coloured sand-stone-is rich and most agreeably diversified. On the opposite bank of the Cowpasture River, which forms the boundary of

Mr. Howe's estate, is the much more extensive estate of Camden, the property of John Macarthur, Esq., and one of the largest and best conducted establishments in the colony. Indeed, Mr. Macarthur deserves the highest credit for the highly judicious mode of treatment he has uniformly pursued towards the numerous convict-servants on his estate, and for the interest which himself and his whole family have uniformly taken in promoting their comfortable settlement on their attainment of freedom. Mr. Macarthur's sons, who are both magistrates of the territory, are now erecting a splendid mansion on the Camden estate, and their extensive gardens are a model to the colony. The vineyard at Camden is the most extensive and the most forward in the country. There are many other estates, however, besides those I have just mentioned, belonging to respectable resident proprietors in this part of the colonial territory; and I know no part of the world in which families of moderate capital, and possessing ability to manage their affairs with the requisite discretion, could more easily assemble around them a large proportion of the comforts, I might even add the elegancies and the luxuries, of rural life.

From Campbelltown to Appin, a distance of eleven miles, the country continues to exhibit the same pleasing appearance of fertility, and the proportion of cleared and cultivated land continues very considerable. About six miles from Campbelltown to the left of the road is Brookdale cottage, the residence of Hamilton Hume, Esq., a Scoto-Australian, whom I have already had occasion to mention, and to whom the colony is under

considerable obligations. The natives of New South Wales are noted for their ability to find their way in the forest, in places where the most sagacious European would be in the utmost danger of being irrecoverably lost; and Mr. Hume possesses this quality of his countrymen in a superior degree, conjoined with a singularly enterprising spirit and indomitable perseverance. It was this gentleman who first ferreted his way through a series of miserable jungles and across rugged and unpromising ravines, to what is now called The New Country, or the district of Argyle; and I have already mentioned that he has since reached Bass' Straits, in company with Mr. Hovell, a respectable settler in the same vicinity, by crossing the country to the southward. Mr. Hume uses neither compass nor quadrant, but, like the Indians of America, he manages to find his way through the forest to any particular locality with a precision often inattainable by those who are most skilful in the use of both. Mr. Hume is descended from one of the collateral branches of the ancient and noble family of the same name, to which the dormant earldom of March on the Scottish border anciently belonged.

The remainder of the route to Illawarra is a mere bush-road, there being no regular Government road formed as yet to the latter district. For many a long mile from Appin the country is exceedingly sterile and uninteresting; but, on gaining the summit of the Illawarra Mountain-a lofty and precipitous range running parallel to the coast, and supporting the elevated table-land to the westward-the view is indescribably magnificent:

for all at once the vast Pacific Ocean, stretching far and wide to the eastward, bursts upon the view, while almost right underfoot it is seen lashing the black rocks that form its iron boundary to the westward, like an angry lion lashing the bars of his cage with his bushy tail, or dashing its huge breakers on the intervening sandy beaches in immense masses of white foam, and with a loud and deafening noise. In short, after the long and uninteresting ride from Appin, the scenery from the summit of the Illawarra Mountain is overpoweringly sublime.

I have already observed that the district of Illawarra consists of a belt of land inclosed between the mountain and the ocean, increasing in breadth to the southward, and, though generally thickly wooded, for the most part of exuberant fertility. The descent of the mountain, which is probably from fifteen hundred to two thousand feet high, is the most precipitous I have seen used in the colony for a road, and horses that are unaccustomed to the route betray the utmost unwillingness to proceed in certain parts of it. The rider uniformly dismounts at the top of the mountain and precedes the horse, holding the end of the bridle in his hand; but on reaching any part of the descent more than usually steep, the horse occasionally stops short from absolute fear, and the rider has actually to pull him down by the bridle at the risk of his rolling over him.

There is a resting-place for travellers ascending the mountain, about half way up, called the big tree. It is a dead tree of immense size, the internal parts of which

have been consumed by fire, although it is still of about a hundred feet in height. My fellow-traveller and myself entered into the hollow, into which there is an entrance on one side as wide as a church-door, with both our horses; and, although the latter were both of the largest size of riding horses in the colony, I perceived that there was room enough for a third rider and his steed. My fellow-traveller told me, indeed, that on a former journey he had actually been one of three horsemen, all of whom had, together with their horses, been accommodated within the big tree at the same time.

The vegetation of the district of Illawarra is very peculiar, and has more of a tropical character than that of other districts in the colony considerably farther to the northward. This may arise partly from its being sheltered from the cold westerly winds of the winter months, by the mountains that run parallel to the coast. I presume, however, it is owing chiefly to the nature of the soil, the district exhibiting various indications of a volcanic origin. The peculiarity I have just mentioned is observable even on the mountain, where the rich variety of the vegetation contrasts beautifully with the wildness of the scenery; the ferntree shooting up its rough stem, of about the thickness of the oar of a ship's long-boat, to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and then suddenly shooting out a number of leaves in every direction, each of four or five feet in length, and exactly similar in appearance to the leaf of the common fern or braken; while palms of various botanical species are ever and anon seen shooting up