e
against their effects. Those seasons, during which no rain falls, appear,
from the observations of former writers, to occur every ten or twelve
years; and it is somewhat singular that no cause has been assigned for
such periodical visitations. Whether the state of the interior has
anything to do with them, and whether the wet or dry condition of the
marshes at all regulate the seasons, is a question upon which I will not
venture to give my decisive opinion. But most assuredly, when the interior
is dry, the seasons are dry, and VICE VERSA. Indeed, not only is this the
case, but rains, from excessive duration in the first year after a
drought, decrease gradually year after year, until they wholly cease for a
time. It seems not improbable, therefore, that the state of the interior
does, in some measure, regulate the fall of rain upon the eastern ranges,
which appears to decrease in quantity yearly as the marshes become
exhausted, and cease altogether, when they no longer contain any water. A
drought will naturally follow until such time as the air becomes
surcharged with clouds or vapour from the ocean, which being no longer
able to sustain their own weight, descend upon the mountains, and being
conveyed by hundreds of streams into the western lowlands, again fill the
marshes, and cause the recurrence of regular seasons.

TEMPERATURE OF THE CLIMATE.

The thermometer ranges during the summer months, that is, from September
to March, from 36 degrees to 106 degrees of Fahrenheit, but the mean
of the temperature during the above period is 70 degrees. The instrument
in the winter months ranges from 27 degrees to 98 degrees, with a mean of
66 degrees. However great the summer heat may appear, it is certain that
the climate of New South Wales has not the relaxing and enfeebling effect
upon the constitution, which renders a residence in India or other parts
of the south so intolerable. Neither are any of the ordinary occupations
of business or of pleasure laid aside at noon, or during the hottest part
of the day. The traveller may cast himself at length under the first tree
that invites him, and repose there as safely as if he were in a palace.
Fearless of damps, and unmolested by noxious insects, his sleep is as
sound as it is refreshing, and he rises with renewed spirits to pursue his
journey. Equally so may the ploughman or the labourer seek repose beside
his team, and allow them to graze quietly around him. The delicious
co