So many misfortunes and untoward accidents have combined to prejudice the emigrating portion of the British public against Western Australia, that no voice is ever raised in her behalf, and scarcely any literary journal condescends to acknowledge her existence. And yet, notwithstanding the veil of darkness that conceals her from Northern eyes, there is perhaps no spot in the world that contains so eminently within itself the elements of prosperity and happiness. A climate more genial, more divine than that of Italy, robs poverty of its bleakness and its bitterness. Absolute want is never felt, and those who possess but little, find how little is sufficient in a climate so productive and so beneficent. The purity and elasticity of the atmosphere induce a continual flow of good spirits. To all the fruits of Italy in most abundant profusion, are added the productions of the East. The regularity of the seasons is so certain, that the husbandman always reckons with confidence upon his crops. No droughts interfere, AS IN THE OTHER COLONIES, to ruin his hopes. The vintages, annually increasing and improving, are equally free from disappointment. It must not, however, be denied that there are many natural disadvantages which can never be overcome without a much larger population. In the first place, the only good harbour on the Western coast has only just been discovered -- June 1846 -- and is at least thirty-five miles distant from Perth, the capital. Then, secondly, all the superior land of the colony is situated about sixty miles back from the capital, and the farmers therefore have a considerable distance to convey their produce to the port; and part of that distance the roads are extremely bad.