prove himself worthy of the lady of his heart. So, while his inamorata
was cruelly imprisoned in the palace of her sire at Batavia, young
Tasman, instead of wasting time in regrets, set forth on a voyage of
adventure, seeking to win by prowess what gallantry had failed to
effect. On his first voyage he so far circumnavigated the island as to
be convinced of its insular character, but really saw little of the
land. In subsequent voyages he made extensive explorations, calling not
only the mainland, but all the little islets he discovered, by the
several names and synonyms of Mademoiselle Van Diemen, his beloved. When
at length he was able to lay before the Dutch government the charts of
his voyages and a digest of his discoveries in the beautiful land where
he had already planted the standard of Holland, the cruel sire relented
and consented to receive as a son-in-law the successful adventurer.
Tasman, it seems, never very fully explored the waters that surrounded
his domain, and the honor was reserved to two young men, Flinders and
Bass, of discovering in 1797 the deep, wide strait of two hundred and
seventy miles in width that bears the name of Bass. The scenery of Van
Diemen's Land is full of picturesque beauty--a sort of miniature
Switzerland, with snow-clad peaks, rocks and ravines, foaming cataracts
and multitudinous little lakes with their circling belt of green and
dancing rivulets bordered with flowers. The Valley of Launceston is a
very Arcadia of pastoral repose, while the Tamar--which in its whole
course is rather a succession of beautiful lakes than an ordinary
river--with its narrow defiles, basaltic rocks and sparkling cataracts,
picturesque rocks that cut off one lake and suddenly reveal another, is
a very miracle of beauty, dancing, frothing, foaming, like some playful
sprite possessed with the very spirit of mischief.

[Illustration: HOBART TOWN.]