and generally surrounded by neat verandahs, and trellis work. The first view from the sea of Port Macquarie is very pleasing. On entering the surf of the bar, one sees immediately beyond the last breaker, the mirror-like surface of the river extending in a long reach; whilst on the left, dark serpentine rocks protect the base of a smooth round eminence, covered with green sward, and crowned by the signal-post, fire-beacon, and windmill. A little farther on is the town, built on a gentle rise, which shows to advantage its pretty little cottages with pointed roofs, its broad straight streets, coated with dark red gravel, and levelled with as much accuracy as garden walks, and its tall square church tower conspicuously prominent in the highest part of the town. A grove of magnificent trees encircles Port Macquarie, and extends along the banks of the river; whilst turning to the west and north-west, the eye embraces a wide extent of forest country, and can trace, among the mountain ranges, the windings of the valley through which the river Wilson flows; Mount Caoulapatamba being sufficiently near to enable one to distinguish every tree on its grassy declivities, whilst the distant ranges at the MacLeay river, and the huge frowning mountain at the back of Cogo, are half dissolved in blue ether.
When I first saw Port Macquarie, five years ago, I had been but a few months in the colony, and had at that time only seen the country in the county of Cumberland round Sydney, which quite coincided
