But though the town thus stands out into the sea, it is not exposed
and bleak. The harbor, again, is surrounded by land, or so guarded
and locked by islands as to form a series of salt-water lakes
running round the town. Of those islands there are, of course,
three hundred and sixty-five. Travelers who write their travels
are constantly called upon to record that number, so that it may
now be considered as a superlative in local phraseology, signifying
a very great many indeed. The town stands between two hills, the
suburbs or outskirts running up on to each of them. The one
looking out toward the sea is called Mountjoy, though the obstinate
Americans will write it Munjoy on their maps. From thence the view
out to the harbor and beyond the harbor to the islands is, I may
not say unequaled, or I shall be guilty of running into
superlatives myself, but it is in its way equal to anything I have
seen. Perhaps it is more like Cork harbor, as seen from certain
heights over Passage, than anything else I can remember; but
Portland harbor, though equally landlocked, is larger; and then
from Portland harbor there is, as it were, a river outlet running
through delicious islands, most unalluring to the navigator, but
delicious to the eyes of an uncommercial traveler. There are in
all four outlets to the sea, one of which appears to have been made
expressly for the Great Eastern. Then there is the hill looking
inward. If it has a name, I forget it. The view from this hill is
also over the water on each side, and, though not so extensive, is
perhaps as pleasing as the other.

The ways of the people seemed to be quiet, smooth, orderly, and
republican. There is nothing to drink in Portland, of course; for,
thanks to Mr. Neal Dow, the Father Matthew of the State of Maine,
the Maine liquor law is still in force in that State. There is