CONCLUSION
As I trust that, in the foregoing pages, I have slightly interested my
readers in "our party," the following additional account of their
movements, contained in letters addressed to me by my brother, may not
be quite uninteresting.
The Ovens diggings are on the river of the same name, which takes its
rise in the Australian Alps, and flows into the Murray. As these Alps
separate New South Wales from Victoria, these diggings belong to the
latter province. They are about forty miles from the town of
Albury. They are spread over a large space of ground. The principal
localities are Spring and Reid's Creeks.
Now for the letters.
"Melbourne, January 5, 1853.
"My dear E--,
"You'll be surprised at the heading of this but the Ovens are not to my
taste, and I'm off again with Frank and Octavius to Bendigo tomorrow. I
suppose you'll like to hear of our adventures up to the Ovens, and the
reasons for this sudden change of plans. We left Melbourne the Monday
after you sailed, and camped out half-way to Kilmore, a little beyond
the 'Lady of the Lake.' The day was fine, but the dust made us
wretched. Next day, we reached Kilmore--stopped there all night. Next
day on again, and the farther we went, the more uncivilized it
became--hills here, forests there, as wild and savage as any one could
desire. It was 'bushing it' with a vengeance. This lasted several days.
Once we lost our road, and came, by good luck, to a sort of
station. They received us very hospitably, and set us right next
morning. Four days after, we came to the Goulburn river. There was a
punt to take us over, and a host of people (many from Bendigo) waiting
to cross. Three days after, we pitched out tents at the Ovens. Here I
soon saw it was no go. There was too much water, and too little gold;
and even if they could knock the first difficulty on the head, I don't
think they could do the same to the second. In my own mind, I think it
impossible that the Ovens will ever turn out the second Bendigo that
many imagine. Hundreds differ from me, therefore it's hundreds to one
that I'm wrong. The average wages, as far as I can judge, are an ounce
a-week; some much more, many much less. We did not attempt digging
ourselves. Eagle Hawk shallowness has spoilt us, for not even Octavius
(who, you know of old, was a harder worker than either Frank or self)
thinks it worth digging through fourteen or sixteen feet of
hard clay for the mere pleasure of exercising our limbs. Provisions
there were not at the high price that many supposed they would be, but
quite high enough, Heaven knows! Meat was very scarce and bad, and
flour all but a shilling a pound; and if the fresh arrivals keep
flocking in, and no greater supply of food, it will get higher still.
We stayed there two weeks, then brought our dray back again, and are
now busy getting ready for a fresh start to Bendigo. Among other things
we shall take, are lemonade and ginger-beer powders, a profitable
investment, though laughable. The weather is very hot--fancy 103 degrees
in the shade. Water is getting scarce."
* * * * *
"Have seen all our friends in Melbourne except Richard, who left for
England a fortnight ago. Jessie is well, and growing quite pretty. She
says she is extremely happy, and sends such a number of
messages to you, that I'll write none, for fear of making a mistake.
Will write again soon."
* * * * *
"Your affectionate brother, in haste,
"----"
"Melbourne, April 17, 1853.
"My dear E----,
"I suppose you've thought I was buried in my hole, or 'kilt' by
bushrangers in the Black Forest; but I've been so occupied in the
worship of Mammon, as to have little thoughts for anything else.
* * * * *
"We made a good thing of our last two speculations. Ginger-beer and
lemonade, or lemon kali, at sixpence a tiny glass, paid well. A
successful digger would drink off a dozen one after another. Some days,
we have taken ten pounds in sixpences at this fun. What they
bought of us wouldn't harm them, but many mix up all sorts of injurious
articles to sell; but our consciences, thank God! are not colonised
sufficiently for that. We have had steady good luck in the digging line
(for we combine everything), and after this next trip, mean to dissolve
partnership.
* * * * *
"Octavius talks of going out as overseer, or something of that sort, to
some squatter in New South Wales for a year or so, just to learn the
system, &c., and then, if possible, take a sheep-run himself. Frank
means to send for Mrs. Frank and small Co. He says he shall stay in
Victoria for some years. I do believe he likes the colony. As for
myself, I hope to see the last of it in six weeks' time.
* * * * *
"Hurrah for Old England!--no place like it.
* * * * *
"Your very affectionate brother,
"----"
With a cordial assent to the last few words, I conclude these pages.
APPENDIX
WHO SHOULD EMIGRATE?
The question of "Who should emigrate?" has now become one of such
importance (owing to the number who are desirous of quitting their
native land to seek a surer means of subsistence in our vast colonial
possessions), that any book treating of Australia would be sadly
deficient were a subject of such universal interest to be left
unnoticed; and where there are so many of various capabilities, means
and dispositions, in need of guidance and advice as to the advantage
of their emigrating, it is probable that the experience of any one,
however slight that experience may be, will be useful to some.
Any one to succeed in the colonies must take with him a quantity of
self-reliance, energy, and perseverance; this is the best capital a man
can have. Let none rely upon introductions--they are but useless things
at the best--they may get you invited to a good dinner; but now that
fresh arrivals in Melbourne are so much more numerous than heretofore,
I almost doubt if they would do even that. A quick, clever fellow with
a trade of his own, inured to labour, and with a light heart, that can
laugh at the many privations which the gipsy sort of life he must lead
in the colonies will entail upon him; any one of this description
cannot fail to get on. But for the number of clerks, shopmen, &c., who
daily arrive in Australia, there is a worse chance of their gaining a
livelihood than if they had remained at home. With this description of
labour the colonial market is largely overstocked; and it is
distressing to notice the number of young men incapable of
severe manual labour, who, with delicate health, and probably still
more delicately filled purses, swarm the towns in search of employment,
and are exposed to heavy expenses which they can earn nothing to meet.
Such men have rarely been successful at the diggings; the demand for
them in their accustomed pursuits is very limited in proportion to
their numbers; they gradually sink into extreme poverty--too often into
reckless or criminal habits--till they disappear from the streets to
make way for others similarly unfortunate.
A little while since I met with the histories of two individuals
belonging to two very different classes of emigrants; and they are so
applicable to this subject, that I cannot forbear repeating them.
The first account is that of a gentleman who went to Melbourne some
eight months ago, carrying with him a stock of elegant acquirements and
accomplishments, but little capital. He is now in a starving condition,
almost with-out the hope of extrication, and is imploring from
his friends the means to return to England, if he live long enough to
receive them. The colours in which he paints the colonies are
deplorable in the extreme.
The other account is that of a compositor who emigrated much about the
same time. He writes to his former office-mates that he got immediate
and constant employment at the rate of 7 pounds per week, and naturally
thinks that there is no place under the sun like Melbourne. Both
emigrants are right. There is no better place under the sun than
Melbourne for those who can do precisely what the Melbourne people
want; and which they must and will have at any price; but there is no
worse colony to which those can go who have not the capabilities
required by the Melbourne people. They are useless and in the way,
their accomplishments are disregarded, their misfortunes receive no
pity; and, whilst a good carpenter or bricklayer would make a fortune,
a modern Raphael might starve.
But even those possessed of every qualification for making first-class
colonists, will at first meet with much to surprise and annoy them, and
will need all the energy they possess, to enable them to overcome the
many disagreeables which encounter them as soon as they arrive.
Let us, for example, suppose the case of an emigrant, with no
particular profession or business, but having a strong constitution,
good common sense, and a determination to bear up against every
hardship, so that in the end it leads him to independence. Let us
follow him through the difficulties that bewilder the stranger in
Melbourne during the first few days of his arrival.
The commencement of his dilemmas will be that of getting his luggage
from the ship; and so quickly do the demands for pounds and shillings
fall upon him, that he is ready to wish he had pitched half his "traps"
over-board. However, we will suppose him at length safely landed on the
wharf at Melbourne, with all his boxes beside him. He inquires
for a store, and learns that there are plenty close at hand; and then
forgetting that he is in the colonies, he looks round for a porter and
truck, and looks in vain. After waiting as patiently as he can for
about a couple of hours, he manages to hire an empty cart and driver;
the latter lifts the boxes into the conveyance (expecting, of course,
his employer to lend a hand), smacks his whip, and turns down street
after street till he reaches a tall, grim-looking budding, in front of
which he stops, with a "That ere's a store," and a demand for a
sovereign, more or less. This settled, he coolly requests the emigrant
to assist him in unloading, and leaves him to get his boxes carried
inside as best he can. Perhaps some of the storekeeper's men come to
the rescue, and with their help the luggage is conveyed into the
store-room (which is often sixty or eighty feet in length), where the
owner receives a memorandum of their arrival. Boxes or parcels may
remain there in perfect safety for months, so long as a
shilling a week is paid for each.
Our emigrant, having left his property in security, now turns to seek a
lodging for himself; and the extreme difficulty of procuring house
accommodation, with its natural consequences, an extraordinary rate of
rent, startles and amazes him. He searches the city in vain, and
betakes himself to the suburbs, where he procures a small,
half-furnished room, in a wooden house for thirty shillings a week. The
scarcity of houses in proportion to the population, is one of the
greatest drawbacks to the colony; but we could not expect it to be
otherwise when we remember that in one year Victoria received an
addition of nearly 80,000 inhabitants. The masculine portion of these
emigrants, with few exceptions, started off at once to the diggings;
hence the deficiency in the labour market is only partially filled up
by the few who remained behind, and by the fewer still who forsake the
gold-fields; whilst the abundance of money, and the deficiency of good
workmen, have raised the expenses of building far above the
point at which it would be a profitable investment for capital.
Meantime, the want is only partially supplied by the wooden cottages
which are daily springing up around the boundaries of the city; but
this is insufficient to meet the increasing want of shelter, and on the
southern bank of the Yarra there are four or five thousand people
living in tents. This settlement is appropriately called "Canvas Town."
But let us return to our newly-arrived emigrant.
Having succeeded in obtaining a lodging, he proceeds to purchase some
necessary articles of food, and looks incredulously at the shopkeeper
when told that butter is 3s. 6d. a pound, cheese, ham, or bacon 2s. to
2s. 6d., and eggs 4s. or 5s. a dozen. He wisely dispenses with such
luxuries, and contents himself with bread at 1s. 6d. the four-pound
loaf, and meat at 5d. a pound. He sleeps soundly, for the day has been
a fatiguing one, and next morning with renewed spirits determines to
search immediately for employment. He does not much care what it is at
first, so that he earns something; for his purse feels considerably
lighter after the many demands upon it yesterday. Before an hour is
over, he finds himself engaged to a storekeeper at a rate of three
pounds a-week; his business being to load and unload drays, roll
casks, lift heavy goods, &c.; and here we will leave him, for once set
going he will soon find a better berth. If he have capital, it is
doubtless safely deposited in the Bank until a little acquaintance with
the colonies enables him to invest it judiciously; and meanwhile, if wise,
he will spend every shilling as though it were his last; but if his
capital consists only of the trifle in his purse, no matter, the way he
is setting to work will soon rectify that deficiency, and he stands a
good chance in a few years of returning to England a comparatively
wealthy man.
To those of my own sex who desire to emigrate to Australia, I say do so
by all means, if you can go under suitable protection, possess
good health, are not fastidious or "fine-lady-like," can milk cows,
churn butter, cook a good damper, and mix a pudding. The worst risk you
run is that of getting married, and finding yourself treated with
twenty times the respect and consideration you may meet with in
England. Here (as far as number goes) women beat the "lords of
creation;" in Australia it is the reverse, and, there we may be pretty
sure of having our own way.
But to those ladies who cannot wait upon themselves, and whose fair
fingers are unused to the exertion of doing anything useful, my advice
is, for your own sakes remain at home. Rich or poor, it is all the
same; for those who can afford to give 40 pounds a-year to a female
servant will scarcely know whether to be pleased or not at the
acquisition, so idle and impertinent are they; scold them, and they will
tell you that "next week Tom, or Bill, or Harry will be back from the
diggings, and then they'll be married, and wear silk dresses, and be as
fine a lady as yourself;" and with some such words will coolly dismiss
themselves from your service, leaving their poor unfortunate mistress
uncertain whether to be glad of their departure or ready to cry because
there's nothing prepared for dinner, and she knows not what to set
about first.
For those who wish to invest small sums in goods for Australia, boots
and shoes, cutlery, flash jewellery, watches, pistols (particularly
revolvers), gunpowder, fancy articles, cheap laces, and baby-linen
offer immense profits.
The police in Victoria is very inefficient, both in the towns and on
the roads. Fifteen persons were stopped during the same afternoon
whilst travelling on the highway between Melbourne and St. Kilda. They
were robbed, and tied to trees within sight of each other--this too in
broad daylight. On the roads to the diggings it is still worse; and no
one intending to turn digger should leave England without a good supply
of fire-arms. In less than one week more than a dozen robberies
occurred between Kyneton and Forest Creek, two of which terminated in
murder. The diggings themselves are comparatively safe--quite as much
so as Melbourne itself--and there is a freemasonry in the bush which
possesses an irresistible charm for adventurous bachelors, and causes
them to prefer the risk of bushrangers to witnessing the dreadful
scenes that are daily and hourly enacting in a colonial town. Life in
the bush is wild, free and independent. Healthy exercise, fine scenery,
and a clear and buoyant atmosphere, maintain an excitement of the
spirits and a sanguineness of temperament peculiar to this sort of
existence; and many are the pleasant evenings, enlivened with the gay
jest or cheerful song, which are passed around the bush fires of
Australia.
The latest accounts from the diggings speak of them most encouragingly.
Out of a population of 200,000 (which is calculated to be the number of
the present inhabitants of Victoria), half are said to be at the
gold-fields, and the average earnings are still reckoned at
nearly an ounce per man per week. Ballarat is again rising into favour,
and its riches are being more fully developed. The gold there is more
unequally distributed than at Mount Alexander, and therefore the
proportion of successful to unsuccessful diggers is not so great as at
the latter place. But then the individual gains are in some cases
greater. The labour is also more severe than at the Mount or Bendigo,
as the gold lies deeper, and more numerous trials have to be made
before the deposits are struck upon.
The Ovens is admitted to be a rich gold-field, but the work there is
severely laborious, owing to a super-abundance of water.
The astonishing mineral wealth of Mount Alexander is evidenced by the
large amounts which it continues to yield, notwithstanding the immense
quantities that have already been taken from it. The whole country in
that neighbourhood appears to be more or less auriferous.
Up to the close of last year the total supposed amount of gold procured
from the Victoria diggings, is 3,998,324 ounces, which, when calculated
at the average English value of 4 pounds an ounce, is worth nearly SIXTEEN
MILLIONS STERLING. One-third of this is distinctly authenticated as
having come down by escort during the three last mouths of 1852.
In Melbourne the extremes of wealth and poverty meet, and many are the
anecdotes of the lavish expenditure of successful diggers that are
circulated throughout the town. I shall only relate two which fell
under my own observation.
Having occasion to make a few purchases in the linen drapery line, I
entered a good establishment in Collins Street for that purpose. It was
before noon, for later in the day the shops are so full that to get a
trifling order attended to would be almost a miracle. There was only
one customer in the shop, who was standing beside the counter, gazing
with extreme dissatisfaction upon a quantity of goods of various
colours and materials that lay there for his inspection. He was
a rough-looking customer enough, and the appearance of his hands gave
strong indication that the pickaxe and spade were among the last tools
he had handled.
"It's a SHINY thing that I want," he was saying as I entered.
"These are what we should call shining goods," said the shopman, as he
held up the silks, alpacas, &c., to the light.
"They're not the SHINY sort that I want," pursued the digger,
half-doggedly, half-angrily. "I'll find another shop; I guess you won't
show your best goods to me--you think, mayhap, I can't pay for them--but
I can, though," and he laid a note for fifty pounds upon the counter,
adding, "maybe you'll show me some SHINY stuff now!"
Unable to comprehend the wishes of his customer, the shopman called to
his assistance the master of the establishment, who being, I suppose,
of quicker apprehension, placed some satins before him.
"I thought the paper would help you find it. I want a gown for my
missus. What's the price?"
"Twenty yards at one-ten--thirty pounds. That do, Sir?"
"No; not good enough!" was the energetic reply.
The shrewd shopkeeper quickly fathomed his customer's desires, and now
displayed before him a rich orange-coloured satin, which elicited an
exclamation of delight.
"Twenty-five yards--couldn't sell less, it's a remnant--at three pounds
the yard."
"That's the go!" interrupted the digger, throwing some more notes upon
the counter. "My missus was married in a cotton gown, and now she'll
have a real gold 'un!"
And seizing the satin from the shopkeeper, he twisted up the portion
that had been unrolled for his inspection, placed the whole under his
arm, and triumphantly walked out of the shop, little thinking how he
had been cheated.
"A 'lucky digger' that," observed the shopman, as he attended to my
wants.
I could not forbear a smile, for I pictured to myself the digger's wife
mixing a damper with the sleeves of her dazzling satin dress tucked up
above her elbows.
A few days after, a heavy shower drove me to take shelter in a
pastry-cook's, where, under the pretence of eating a bun, I escaped a
good drenching. Hardly had I been seated five minutes, when a
sailor-looking personage entered, and addressed the shopwoman with:
"I'm agoing to be spliced to-morrow, young woman; show us some large
wedding-cakes."
The largest (which was but a small one) was placed before him, and
eighteen pounds demanded for it. He laid down four five-pound notes
upon the counter, and taking up the cake, told her to "keep the change
to buy ribbons with."
"Pleasant to have plenty of gold-digging friends," I remarked, by way
of saying something.
"Not a friend," said she, smiling. "I never saw him before. I expect
he's only a successful digger."
Turn we now to the darker side of this picture.
My favourite walk, whilst in Melbourne, was over Prince's Bridge, and
along the road to Liardet's Beach, thus passing close to the canvas
settlement, called Little Adelaide. One day, about a week before we
embarked for England, I took my accustomed walk in this direction, and
as I passed the tents, was much struck by the appearance of a little
girl, who, with a large pitcher in her arms, came to procure some water
from a small stream beside the road. Her dress, though clean and neat,
bespoke extreme poverty; and her countenance had a wan, sad expression
upon it which would have touched the most indifferent beholder, and
left an impression deeper even than that produced by her extreme though
delicate beauty.
I made a slight attempt at acquaintanceship by assisting to
fill her pitcher, which was far too heavy, when full of water, for so
slight a child to carry, and pointing to the rise of ground on which
the tents stood, I inquired if she lived among them.
She nodded her head in token of assent.
"And have you been long here? and do you like this new country?" I
continued, determined to hear if her voice was as pleasing as her
countenance.
"No!" she answered quickly; "we starve here. There was plenty of food
when we were in England;" and then her childish reserve giving way, she
spoke more fully of her troubles, and a sad though a common tale it
was.
Some of the particulars I learnt afterwards. Her father had held an
appointment under Government, and had lived upon the income derived
from it for some years, when he was tempted to try and do better in the
colonies. His wife (the daughter of a clergyman, well educated, and who
before her marriage had been a governess) accompanied him with
their three children. On arriving in Melbourne (which was about three
months previous), he found that situations equal in value, according to
the relative prices of food and lodging, to that which he had thrown up
in England were not so easily procured as he had been led to expect.
Half desperate, he went to the diggings, leaving his wife with little
money, and many promises of quick remittances of gold by the escort.
But week followed week, and neither remittances nor letters came. They
removed to humbler lodgings, every little article of value was
gradually sold, for, unused to bodily labour, or even to sit for hours
at the needle, the deserted wife could earn but little. Then sickness
came; there were no means of paying for medical advice, and one child
died. After this, step by step, they became poorer, until half a tent
in Little Adelaide was the only refuge left.
As we reached it, the little girl drew aside the canvas, and partly
invited me to enter. I glanced in; it was a dismal sight. In
one corner lay the mother, a blanket her only protection from the humid
soil, and cowering down beside her was her other child. I could not
enter; it seemed like a heartless intrusion upon misery; so, slipping
the contents of my purse (which were unfortunately only a few
shillings) into the little, girl's hand, I hurried away, scarcely
waiting to notice the smile that thanked me so eloquently. On arriving
at home, I found that my friends were absent, and being detained by
business, they did not return till after dusk, so it was impossible for
that day to afford them any assistance. Early next morning we took a
little wine and other trifling articles with us, and proceeded to
Little Adelaide. On entering the tent, we found that the sorrows of the
unfortunate mother were at an end; privation, ill health and anxiety had
claimed their victim. Her husband sat beside the corpse, and the golden
nuggets, which in his despair he had flung upon the ground, formed a
painful contrast to the scene of poverty and death.
The first six weeks of his career at the diggings had been most
unsuccessful, and he had suffered as much from want as his unhappy
wife. Then came a sudden change of fortune, and in two weeks more he
was comparatively rich. He hastened immediately to Melbourne, and for a
whole week had sought his family in vain. At length, on the preceding
evening, he found them only in time to witness the last moments of his
wife.
Sad as this history may appear, it is not so sad as many, many others;
for often, instead of returning with gold, the digger is never heard of
more.
In England many imagine that the principal labour at the diggings
consists in stooping to pick up the lumps of gold which lie upon the
ground at their feet, only waiting for some one to take possession of
them. These people, when told of holes being dug in depths of from
seven to forty feet before arriving at the desired metal, look upon
such statements as so many myths, or fancy they are fabricated by the
lucky gold-finders to deter too many others from coming to take
a share of the precious spoil. There was a passenger on board the
vessel which took me to Australia, who held some such opinions as
these, and, although in other respects a sensible man, he used
seriously to believe that every day that we were delayed by contrary
winds he could have been picking up fifty or a hundred pounds worth of
gold had he but been at the diggings. He went to Bendigo the third day
after we landed, stayed there a fortnight, left it in disgust, and
returned to England immediately--poorer than he had started.
This is not an isolated case. Young men of sanguine dispositions read
the startling amounts of gold shipped from the colonies, they think of
the "John Bull Nugget" and other similar prizes, turn a deaf ear when
you speak of blanks, and determinately overlook the vast amount of
labour which the gold diggings have consumed. Whenever I meet with this
class of would-be emigrants, the remarks of an old digger, which I once
over heard, recur to my mind. The conversation at the time was
turned upon the subject of the many young men flocking from the "old
country" to the gold-fields, and their evident unfitness for them.
"Every young man before paying his passage money," said he, "should take
a few days' spell at well-sinking in England; if he can stand that
comfortably, the diggings won't hurt him."
Many are sadly disappointed on arriving in Victoria, at being unable to
invest their capital or savings in the purchase of about a hundred
acres of land, sufficient for a small farm. I have referred to this
subject before, but cannot resist adding some facts which bear upon it.
By a return of the LAND SALES of Victoria, from 1837 to 1851, it
appears that 380,000 acres of land were sold in the whole colony; and
the sum realized by Government was 700,000 pounds. In a return published
in 1849, it is stated that there were THREE persons who each held singly
more land in their own hands than had been sold to all the rest of the
colony in fourteen years, for which they paid the sum of 30 pounds
each per annum. Yet, whilst 700,000 pounds is realized by the sale of
land, and not 100 pounds a-year gained by LETTING three times the
quantity, the Colonial Government persists in the latter course, in spite
of the reiterated disapprobation of the colonists themselves; and by one
of the last gazettes of Governor La Trobe, he has ordered 681,700 acres,
or 1,065 square miles, to be given over to the squatters. The result of
this is, that many emigrants landing in Victoria are compelled to turn
their steps towards the sister colony of Adelaide. There was a family
who landed in Melbourne whilst I was there. It consisted of the
parents, and several grown-up sons and daughters. The father had held a
small tenant farm in England, and having saved a few hundreds,
determined to invest it in Australian land. He brought out with him
many agricultural implements, an iron house, &c.; and on his arrival
found, to his dismay, that no less than 640 acres of crown lands could
be sold, at a time, at the upset price of one pound an acre. This was
more than his capital could afford, and they left for Adelaide. The
expenses of getting his goods to and from the ships, of storing them,
of supporting his family while in Melbourne, and of paying their
passage to Adelaide, amounted almost to 100 pounds. Thus he lost nearly a
fourth of his capital, and Victoria a family who would have made good
colonists.
Much is done now-a-days to assist emigration, but far greater exertions
are needed before either the demand for labour in the colonies or the
over-supply of it in England can be exhausted. Pass down the best
streets of Melbourne: you see one or two good shops or houses, and on
either side an empty spot or a mass of rubbish. The ground has been
bought, the plans for the proposed budding are all ready. Then why not
commence?--there are no workmen. Bricks are wanted, and 15 pounds a
thousand is offered; carpenters are advertized for at 8 pounds a week; yet
the building makes no progress--there are no workmen. Go down towards the
Yarra, and an unfinished Church will attract attention. Are funds wanting
for its completion? No. Thousands were subscribed in one day, and would
be again were it necessary; but that building, like every other, is
stopped for lack of workmen. In vain the bishop himself published an
appeal to the various labourers required offering the very highest
wages; others offered higher wages still, and the church (up to the
time I left Victoria) remained unfinished. And yet, whilst labour
is so scarce, so needed in the colonies, there are thousands in our own
country ABLE AND WILLING TO WORK, whose lives here are one of prolonged
privation, whose eyes are never gladdened by the sight of nature, who
inhale no purer atmosphere than the tainted air of the dark courts and
dismal cellars in which they herd. Send them to the colonies--food and
pure air would at least be theirs--and much misery would be turned into
positive happiness.
I heard of a lady who every year sent out a whole family from
the poor but hard-working classes to the colonies (it was through one
of the objects of her thoughtful benevolence that this annual act
became known to me), and what happiness must it bring when she reflects
on the heartfelt blessings that are showered upon her from the far-off
land of Australia. Surely, among the rich and the influential, there
are many who, out of the abundance of their wealth, could "go and do
likewise."
THE END.