We again fell in here with Sir William Macarthur, who had undertaken a very arduous ride through the forests around Wulongong for the purpose of collecting some tree-ferns, which he intended sending to England. Few nations have such a thorough appreciation of nature as the English, or exert themselves so unselfishly, by personal observation and indefatigable energy, to enlarge the acquaintance of mankind with natural history in all its different ramifications. Men in every grade of life take a pleasure in hunting out rare species of plants, animals, or minerals, in the remotest districts of the globe, which they transmit to their own country, or publish such observations respecting them as may make them available for science, handicraft-industry, or commerce. By these incidental voluntary contributions to the general stock, England now possesses scientific collections such as hardly any nation can hope to keep up short of an enormous expense. These endeavours, it is true, are considerably favoured and supported by the fact of British colonies being scattered over the entire earth, but even in this respect it must be conceded that it is through her own meritorious, unselfish policy that circumstances thus combine to aid her efforts in this peculiar direction. Wulongong is a hamlet consisting of a few streets, and its principal resources seem to be in the visits of the Sydneyites, who come hither for sea-bathing. Already the existence of several hotels, which, considering the size of the place, are unusually elegant and extensive, but at the same time extremely costly, shows that Wulongong must be rather extensively patronized by the inhabitants of the capital, with which it has regular communication by small steamers, making the voyage in a few hours. Unfortunately Wulongong has no convenient harbour, but only a small exposed roadstead, rendered barely safe for a few small vessels by a stone bulwark, so that in the event of rough weather the landing and embarkation of visitors is attended with much discomfort. We alighted at the Brighton Hotel, prettily situated on the sea-coast, and met here our newly-acquired Australian friend, Mr. Edward Hill, a brother-in-law of Sir D. Cooper's, who, with his usual kindness and forethought, had made all possible preparations for ensuring that our further flying visit to the Illawara district should be one of the most memorable episodes of our stay in the colony. Mr. Hill, an Australian by birth, may, through the peculiar circumstances of his life, his striking observations on and profound sympathy with the blacks, be considered one of those most profoundly acquainted with that remarkable race, whose idiom, as spoken in this district, he can converse in with the utmost fluency. For this gentleman's attention we were indebted not merely for repeated opportunities of intercourse with the natives, but also for the excitement, to us thoroughly novel, of a kangaroo-hunt.