in London who undertook the management of affairs in a distant colony, we have great reason to regret the serious difficulties which were brought on by their total inability to fulfil the terms of agreement on which colonists left this country; but still, for the sake of emigration generally, in its better aspect, we feel that the experiment of the Canterbury settlement should not be deprived of its due, for what it really has accomplished, in any feeling of disappointment for what it has not. We doubt the wisdom of attempting what is called class emigration, as applied to religion. In theory, it is, indeed, unobjectionable to choose for your companions such persons as will agree with you, but when there is also added to this simple view of the case, the attempt to make all who go out with you form themselves by charter into a distinct civil community, you are aiming, to say the least of it, at something quite different from all our present associations of religious freedom; and we cannot but imagine that, with the imperfect understanding that churchmen, especially of different classes, have at the present time of each other's religious views, it is a vain hope to avoid future schism by any primary test of opinion. The whole idea, moreover, that is implied by the attempt, is, we think, contrary to those principles of freedom and independence of civil restraint which are to be much desired for the good of all our colonial churches. On this question, however, we shall say no more; we desire facts rather than views, and wish to discover what is the actual experience of those who, two years ago, embarked themselves and their fortunes on this semicircular voyage that is requisite in order to arrive at the antipodes.

Mr. Adams did not, indeed, embark his fortunes; for his object was to obtain a fresh supply of the first, rather than the last, of the standard blessings health, peace, and competence;' but yet having succeeded in this end, and being once more at home in England, he imagines that he is in a position to impart information with regard to those who did truly emigrate. He was not, indeed, long in the island-only about three months -but acute powers of observation often have to make up for prolonged experience. This was, however, a most severe test by which to try a new colony, and, therefore, we think that much allowance ought to be made for any discomforts which an invalid traveller met with, whilst the bright side of his description ought, under the circumstances of the case, to have credit for greater permanence. We can well imagine that very discouraging accounts would most probably have been sent home by a temporary visitor at some of our great colonies on their first commencement; and, although the Canterbury settlement

ought certainly to be judged by a higher standard than others, inasmuch as the object of its promoters was especially to avoid that stage of heathenish barbarism which in most cases has been the infancy of British colonial life; yet we must not, on account of its first pretensions, overlook the good actually attained, or forget that in all human affairs it is a virtue to aim high, and that it is a true and meritorious reward of virtue to receive even an imperfect fulfilment of our first ideal.

It is too soon at present to give any very confident opinion of the success which has attended the Canterbury settlers, personally; yet certain advantages belonging to the locality are apparent and undoubted, whilst any original sacrifice which may have formed part of the scheme, having now ceased to be in operation on the demise of the Association, and no longer affecting new emigrants, it is plain that the only legitimate ground of complaint rests with the first settlers, who may, indeed, say with truth that they have not received all the advantages for which they conceived that they were paying. These, however, are not the real accusers of the undertaking; we . believe that they are, on the whole, well satisfied with their position and prospects, and are willing to forget the literal forfeiture of certain promises, aware, as they are, that the whole concern was of the nature of a joint-stock speculation, and that subject to some causes of personal regret, all's well that ends well.' We see also great reason to hope that the additional outlay which the association required of these emigrants over others, will, in some way or other, meet with its full return. When the state of this colony is really understood it will be seen that a strength and solidity, an order and concentration have been acquired, at an age when others have been an unformed chaos; that public buildings and ports are in civilized working order at an age when, without the same organizing system, men have suffered much from the helplessness of solitude, and from that rapacity which accompanies an uncombined society; and also that the more intellectual character of the emigrants will be a real inducement to others, who may wish to start life away from England, to prefer this colony, and will thus bring to the original settlers good interest for their money, in the shape of well-educated and moneyed adventurers, who every year will improve the standing of the place. We know a remarkable instance in confirmation of what we say. Two young men, sons of a professional man, with a good income and a realized property, went out to the Canterbury Settlement two years ago, and they give such favourable accounts of their pleasant way of life, that their parents are about to join them, and exchange a well-established and comfortable position in an

English county for the prospects and the society of a New Zealand plain, where but a few years ago they would not even have been safe from that idiosyncrasy of palate which used to make the natives of this island so unpleasantly renowned.

Our object, therefore, will be to give the colony fair play: to digest the real information contained in Mr. Adams's book, and compare it with the accounts given by others, who have had equal opportunities with Mr. Adams, and on whom we place entire trust. We do not mean that Mr. Adams's statements can be contradicted, but we think that he has, unconsciously, perhaps, spoken in a depreciatory tone, from the unfair effects of which the colony ought, in justice, to be cleared.

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The Canterbury colonists were embarked with considerable éclat breakfasts and dinners celebrated the event. It is not to be supposed, however, that the troubles and anxieties of emigration could be all smoothed over by these artifices, yet a cheerful departure and a hearty farewell remain long in the emigrant's mind; they give a bright tint to his last recollections of home, and cheer that necessary interval of thought and retirement which the great ocean requires, as an act of homage from those who trust themselves to her care, as the very means of defying her original claim to be the stern barrier between land and land.

Mr. Adams's first chapter is devoted to a description of the voyage. Having two other accounts of the same voyage, performed within a few days of the same time, we shall form our narrative by selecting a few of the more interesting passages of each.

The last hour before departure of a ship is always a scene of confusion on board, and much more so when the passengers are taking a voyage for life. Friends have come to see them off; relatives and connexions, who have lived together, or within a day's call of each other, stand on the deck of the ship, impressed with the solemn feeling that the earth may henceforth keep them apart by its widest span. The novelty of the scene, the fresh river breeze, the hearty tone and manner which pervades a seafaring life, and makes one place a singular confidence in the weather-beaten sailor, with his blue shirt, who is shouting a kind of stentorian mysticism of nautical phrases by your side; the captain's bland courtesy again, and quiet assurance of welldeserved power, all these things entirely check the common demonstrations of feeling, and the combined result is, that the last hour of conversation-that parting hour, so long dreaded in prospect-so long to be held sacred in the retrospect, is, during its actual transit, occupied with the most commonplace remarks, more generally passing between comparative strangers, whom the occasion itself has brought together for the first time, than

between those who have made it their object to enjoy each other's society at this crisis of their lives, perhaps with much inconvenience and pain. Yet there are those who cling together in silent affection, trying to realize the permanence of the coming separation; but, strange to say, this is not so easy. We may talk, indeed, beforehand, of never seeing each other again, of being, henceforth, lost to each other, but, at the moment of parting, there is a something which proves that in the depths of the heart, we have a most powerful instinct of faith in the eternity of our individual selves, and, also, of our communion with each other. Two souls which feel ties of natural sympathy for each other, rebel, with a true nobility of a heavenly birthright, against the dark and gloomy notion of eternal death to the intercourse, or even the personal communion of pure and holy affections. Without any definite notion as to how this instinct is to be satisfied, much more without any commonplace cant about the next world, yet there is a strong conviction that the personal tie can never cease. We cannot make ourselves believe (if we may be allowed to use a mathematical simile), that the lines of direction, in which we part from each other, at that particular moment, will eventually be an actual parabola never to meet again; we may make our calculations, indeed, on that supposition, as astronomers are sometimes compelled to do with the orbit of comets, but, like them, we believe it to be an ellipse, and that, however remote the time or place, yet those lines of direction will again meet. There are, also, more immediate considerations which stir up this hidden consciousness to active and practical life. The rapidly increasing powers of mechanical locomotion, the regularity of postal communication throughout the world, and, lastly, the many influences of electricity from the telegraph to the moving hat' (which, in time, must surely carry its wearer, by the exercise of a strong will to whatever place he likes, according to the dreams of Eastern romance), all these help to dispel, with different degrees of power, the notion of entire, of total and of blank separation.

The first week or so of the voyage is not eloquently described by any of our narrators. The wind was contrary, slight misadventures happened, the sea was rough, and imagination supplies the rest. After passing the Bay of Biscay things brightened up.

'There are few things more pleasant than the outward passage between the latitudes where the N.E. trade wind prevails. The weather is generally warm and fine, the ship maintains a steady course, the horrors of seasickness have faded from the memory, and all on board have fallen into the regular lounging, dreamy, lotus-eating sort of existence which characterises life during a long voyage.'-Pp. 3, 4.

The natural features of the voyage within the tropics, are thus described by Mr. Adams:

'A little north of the Line the Southern Cross is first seen. When viewed under favourable circumstances it is a beautiful constellation, though by no means equal to the Ursa Major, or to many others of the Northern Hemisphere. The sunset and sunrise of the tropics are peculiarly beautiful; a circumstance which may arise partly from the extreme shortness of twilight, which fades into complete darkness immediately the sun has sunk below the horizon, and which therefore displays to great advantage the various brilliant tints. So sudden is the change from day to night, that I have often witnessed the phenomenon of a stream of sunshine along the waves on one side of the ship, and of moonlight on the other.

'A tropical night at sea is a truly magnificent scene. I have often known the moonlight sufficiently bright to read by without difficulty; and the effect of the deep blue sky, the water of a still darker and richer tint, and the brilliant moonlight pouring over every sail and rope and spar, and lighting every little ripple with a momentary gleam, form a scene of tranquil beauty which must be seen to be understood.

'Another great beauty of the nights at sea is the intense phosphorescence of the water. Every little splash and ripple causes a thousand bright but evanescent sparkles. The wake of the ship is a perfect milky-way of nebulæ and shooting stars; and the dolphins and "Portuguese men-of-war" seem like bright moons far below the surface of the water. The most beautiful instance of this sort I remember to have seen was in the North Pacific, during a passage from Sydney to San Francisco, when a whale of about fifty feet in length swam for some time close alongside of the ship, looking like some huge monster in armour of burnished silver set with diamonds. His spout, as he rose every five minutes to the surface, resembled a fountain of brilliant stars.'-Pp. 4-6.

The amusements of the passengers are various. Amongst them are singing, dancing, story-telling, catching birds, and editing a weekly newspaper. In discussing one of these, Mr. Adams mentions two Cape pigeons that followed the ship five thousand miles, and only left them when they anchored in Port Lyttelton. A game called Sesostris is also described by Mr. Adams at considerable length, as having afforded great amusement. The details of it not having answered the same end in our perusal, we pass on to the important subject of religious services on board. Mr. Adams mentions an impressive scene on the first occasion when the chaplain read prayers, but does not state further particulars. The chaplain on board another ship writes as follows:

'Our first service was on Trinity Sunday, but in the afternoon I was unwell, and was obliged to discontinue it for nearly a week. After that, we began regularly our daily morning and evening prayer, and continued it in all weathers, with very few intermissions throughout the rest of the passage. We had full services on Sunday. For part of the voyage we got up a class for practising chants, that we might have something better than a plain service; and I was sorry afterwards that we did not begin it before, as we got on very creditably, and the service was far more impressive.'

A passenger by an emigrant ship to Auckland, not belonging