but then for the labour there is good pay, and
those who would keep sober might soon get
houses and land of their own ; but the men
drink and gamble, and the women dress, and
away goes all the profit." Elsewhere she
says, " Many who came out nine or ten years
ago are now living independent ; and then,
again, many do not. But none are poor, and
that is one great comfort." C. S., from whom
we have been quoting, writes on a grander
scale than usual, and asks, in return, for " the
latest news—theatrical, political, and so on."
From another long letter by her, containing
her efforts at a description of the new country,
we extract a passage ; the manner in which
she introduces the name of poor Mr. Malthus is
amusing :— " The natives are poor, miserable-
looking creatures, going about almost naked,
and eating all sorts of offal, and are harmless
hereabouts, though not so when wild. They
are the most hideous sort of folks you can
imagine, and much like very old monkeys,
and, when wild, go quite naked, which they
like best. Government has had houses built
for them, but they will not stay in them, and
schools for their children, but they will not
let them attend .   .   .   . They are almost
black, but have long silky hair, of which they
are very proud. Altogether, one cannot but
pity them. There would be a wide field for
Mr. Malthus's philanthropy, here, in trying to
civilise them—the young ones, I mean." Poor
Mr. Malthus. Here is a touch of sentiment :
" Another shop I went in, in the tin-ware
line : two men were sitting in the shop, and on
the counter was a bottle and three glasses ;
they had been taking wine with the master,
and these seem like drovers do at home. The
thunder-storms here are very grand—it echoes
from hill to hill—and the lightning is splendid ;
so is the moonlight." One might be curious
to know what train of ideas caused two men,
a bottle, and three glasses to suggest a
thunder-storm. The letter concludes— " Dear
mother, that you may soon come to this land
of plenty, is the sincere prayer of your
affectionate daughter, CAROLINE.

"P.S. I wish I could write a better description
of the place, it is so lovely."

F. A. H., who had been in England a poor
servant out of place, writes of Port Philip,
"It is a good place for all maids to come to,
for they are sure to get a husband. I am not
married yet, but I shall be before long,—
before you get this,—to a young man who came
out in the same ship. There was a mother
and four sons and four daughters, and this is
one of the sons that I am to have, and —— is
to have another, and —— is to have a third.
If you can, prevail on my sisters to come to
me, and all shall be done both by me and
Richard that can be done to make them
happy."

M. S. A. R., who had been a servant in London
at very low wages, begins her letter from
Port Philip thus: " We have been here now
about ten months, and I have had very good
situations, the last of which I left to be
married. I was married on the 5th of
January last, to Mr. Charles S——, brother to
little Jane, as you call her. I have been very
comfortable since, and am very contented."
Of the said little Jane, the same writer says,
that she " has a comfortable good place, and
twenty pounds a-year wages."

S. G., (who had been a poor servant-of-all-
work) writing by deputy from Bathunga, near
Macklesfield, South Australia, about her
comfortable place, with kindest love to " My dear
Mother and Father," finds some delight in
saying, " We burn nothing but wood; there
are no grates to clean; no coals are found
here." Having described this essential part
of the Elysium of a maid-of-all-work, she
says: " There are no beggars in the country,
and there are no workhouses. Servants need
never be out of place, they are much wanted
here. I have grown very much; you would
not know me, I am so tall and fat. I am very
sorry I cannot read or write; be sure and
tell my sisters and brothers to make good
use of their learning; they do not know
what a loss it is. I often think of you day
and night."

Here we have but a glimpse into the hearts
of a few out of the seven hundred recipients
of the blessing offered by Mr. Herbert's
Emigration Fund. The glimpse reveals what
every true eye may see in any drawing-room,
or any alley, if it will but look and learn; that
there is a beauty in the human character
which never can be quite suppressed. There is
not a rascal in the world who has not in him
some point loveable. But these poor girls are
anything but rascals. Before they can receive
aid from the Fund, their character must undergo
a searching scrutiny. Beyond the sixty
who are coming hither now, there were
twenty-five who were found wanting after
the strongest recommendation, and there are
still five left behind at "the Home," in
Hatton Garden, who cannot be sent out until
their characters have been more thoroughly
determined. The emigrants are girls, who,
through privation and temptation, have
opposed an honest and comparatively blameless
life against the troubles of the world. I hear
the whistle of the train. Let us go out;
but let me give you notice that you will
not find the aspect of these girls so gaunt as
it might be, if they came hither directly from
their wretched garrets. Each one, as she
was accepted, was admitted into " the Home"
established by the Fund, where she has been
watched and tended by a matron admirably
fitted for her office. Here, each has remained,
under a gentle discipline, for some weeks,
Regular lives, and hearts set more at ease;
soon show a good effect upon the bodies of
young women, aged, as all these must be,
between eighteen and thirty-five. A pleasant
strain upon the line of hooks and eyes down
many an expanding back, becomes, among
the girls, while in " the Home," a theme of