up such a line, the outlay
would be enormous, and would far exceed any return that could be
expected for the next fifty years. The good folks of Sydney seem bent on
trying it, however; and on being refused pecuniary aid from the
Government, they resolved on carrying it through at their own expense;
but they have since cooled in their ardour. At least, I have not heard
of the money being forthcoming.[19]

[Footnote 19: The expedition just alluded to has never been
attempted; and I think very wisely. The great commercial crisis
under which the Colony of New South Wales, in common with all
the Australian Colonies, has been suffering of late, has given
the Colonists other and more pressing matters to think of; and
if they will take the advice of one who wishes them well, they
will look to some other route for quicker communication with
the Mother Country, than that _via_ Port Essington.--October,
1845.]

I shall now proceed to offer a few observations upon sheep and
sheep-stations. A sheep-station is, probably, the most desolate place at
which a man could be sent to pass his time. Fancy three men in charge of
one thousand sheep, which range over five square miles of country, of
which five miles those three outcasts are literally the only
inhabitants, and, strange as it may seem, seeing but little of each
other. One is the watchman, who remains by the hut all day, shifts the
folds, and sleeps between them at night, to protect their occupants from
the prowling native dog: the other two are shepherds, who start every
morning at daylight, in different directions, each in charge of his
flock; they do not return to the hut till sun-down, when they are tired,
weary, and eager for supper and bed. Thus, day after day, and month
after month, pass in solitary wretchedness, relieved only on the
Saturday for a couple of hours, when a man with the week's rations
arrives at the station. These men live all the year round on salt beef
and bread, the latter baked by themselves: they have no change either of
diet, of employment, or of any thing else; for, be it known, a really
good sheep-station in Australia yields nothing but grass and gum-trees,
the soil being dry and poor. A shepherd on the hills of Scotland, who
returns every night to his _bothie_, and finds a _warm_ supper cooked
for him by some kind female hand, is a prince compared to the exile of
Australia, who comes home tired and sleepy at sun-