The second class of settler-the man without capital, or with only a little is a pariah everywhere. No colony wants him, agents warn him away, friends write to him begging him to stay where he is, and not tempt fortune by going out unprovided with plenty of cash. No doubt there is reason on the side of the discouragers; but there is not a colony in the world, all the same, where you shall not find the man who came out without capital, who endured a few years of hard work and short commons, began to get on, began to save, went on getting on and saving, and by-and-by became one of the most successful men in the place. Whereupon as a rule he becomes an adviser in his turn, and solemnly counsels young men of every kind against the imprudence of tempting fortune with an empty purse.

"Sink

For all that, and all that, young Britons will continue to do what they are advised not to, and ships will carry out many a man to the far wild countries whose only gold is the gold of youth and health and a brave heart. or swim" is the motto of this kind of colonist, and if he often goes under, he very often floats on the top, and comes in on the flood-tide of good luck. "Fortune favours the brave"-a proverb none the less true, because of its age.

To have an island of one's own, in the beautiful South Seas, to live remote from strain and worry, and out of the clash and roar of twentieth-century civilisation—to pass one's days in a land of perpetual summer; work, but own no master, possess a country (small though it may be) yet know none of the troubles of sovereignty-this is an ambition of which no one need be ashamed, even though it appear contemptible and even reprehensible to "Samuel Budgett, the Successful Merchant." The planter with a fair amount of capital can realise the dream almost any

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THE MAN WITHOUT MEANS

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day, for every big group in the Pacific has many small unoccupied islands which can be rented for a song, and if the newcomer is made of stuff that can stand being totally deprived of theatres, clubs, music halls, daily posts and papers, and a good many other charms (or burdens) of city life, he has only to pick and choose, secure a good title to his island, decide what he means to grow on it, get his house built, and settle down at once.

But people who have very little money cherish the same ambition, often enough. There are thousands of men in the United Kingdom to whom a South Sea Island of their own would be heaven-only they see no way of getting it. The desire comes, without doubt, (of generations of insular ancestors. It is the "Englishman's house is his castle" idea carried a step further than usual, that is all; and the boy that never wholly dies in the heart of every Briton is always ready to wake up and rejoice at the thought.

What is the moneyless man to do?

Well, first of all, he must get out to Sydney or Auckland, each being a port from which island vessels constantly sail, and with which island trade is closely concerned. It will not cost him so much as he thinks. If he goes by Auckland, he can get a third-class ticket from London for fifteen pounds, and Sydney is little more. Arrived, he will make use of the information he has, of course, obtained in London, from the offices of the Agent-General for New Zealand (or Australia, as the case may be) and try and get a job to keep him on his feet while he looks about. If he can do any kind of manual labour, he will not be at a loss-and if he cannot, or will not, he had much better stay at home on an office stool within sound of Bow Bells, and leave the far countries to men of tougher material.