"Sir, have you been introduced to these was extinguished after a few minutes. Every ladies ? " one was in bed. "Why my dear Mr. Sharper! my dear uncle! I am Hermann! Herman Schultz, the companion of their captivity! their saviour!" English custom requires gentlemen to be introduced to ladies ere they relate adventures." "But they know me, my dear Mr. Sharper, we dined more than ten times together! You know what service I rendered them! "Very well, but you have not been introduced!" "And then, sir, I am to marry her-her mother gave her consent. Did they not tell you so?" "Not before being introduced." "Introduce me yourself then." "First of all you must be introduced to me." "Let us follow their example," said Harris. "Sleep will calm you, and to-morrow I will arrange all your matters." I passed a night more wretched even "Your English friends have left." "Are you sure?" "I escorted them to the boat." "My poor friend," said Harris, taking my hand, "gratitude is enjoined, but love comes not at command." "Alas!" sighed Dimitri. There was an echo in the heart of this youth. Since that day I have lived like the brute creation, eating, drinking and inhaling air. I sent my collection of plants to Hamburgh without a single specimen of the boryana variabilis. The night succeeding the ball my friends. accompanied me on board the French boat; they considered it prudent to undertake the journey at night for fear of encountering the soldiers of M. Périclès. We reached the Piræus without hindrance, but when about twenty-five strokes from shore we heard, though we could not see, half a dozen rifles discharging shots in our direction. This was the farewell of the captain and his "Left! Why, my friend, she is Mary beautiful country. Anne's mother." "Be calm, we will find her again, and I will have you introduced by the American Minister." "All right, now I want to show you my uncle, Edward Sharper. I left him here. Where can he be?" But uncle Edward had disappeared, and I dragged Harris along with me to the square in front of the Hotel des Etrangers. There was a light in Madame Simons' room, which I have traversed the mountains of Malta, Sicily and Italy, and enriched my herbarium more than myself. My father had the good sense to retain his inn; he sent me word that my consignments are well received at home, and that possibly on my arrival I may find a situation waiting me, but I have made it a rule never to expect anything any more. Harris is on his way to Japan, and in a year or two I hope to hear from him. Little Webster wrote to me at Rome, he continues chen. to practise pistol-shooting. Giacomo con- goes occasionally to sup and sigh in the kittinues sealing letters by day and cracking nuts in the evenings. M. Mérinay's great work on Demosthenes is to be printed some day. The King of the Mountains has made his peace with the authorities; he is building a large house and taking active measures to become a member of the ministry of justice, but that will take time. Photini keeps house for him, and Dimitri I have never heard aught of Madame Simons, Mr. Sharper, or Mary Anne. If this silence continues I will soon think of them no more. Every day I give thanks that, owing to my natural indifference, my heart was not affected. How greatly I would have been to be pitied if unfortunately I had fallen in love! SONNET. Translated from the Italian of Fillicosa by the late Miss AGNES STRICKLAND, anthoress of the “Queens I of England." SAW a mighty river, wild and vast, Whose rapid waves were moments, which did glide So swiftly onward in their silent tide, That ere their flight was noted they were past! A river that to Death's dark shore doth fast Conduct all living, with resistless force; And though unfelt, pursues its noiseless course, To quench all fires in Lethe's stream at last. Its current with Creation's birth was born, And with the heavens commenced its course sublime, For days, and months, still hurrying on untired. Marking its flight I inwardly did mourn, And of my musing thoughts in doubt enquired The river's name— My thoughts responded "TIME!" Ο THE GENTLEMAN EMIGRANT.* NE great mistake usually made by those who write about emigration is that they attempt too much. They set themselves to compile what they call a General Handbook for a Colony, or an Emigrants' Vade Mecum, or something comprehensive which they assume will be equally intelligible and equally beneficial to all classes. Few things are more deceptive-sometimes, it is to be feared, intentionally so-and few things really more utterly worthless than the average publication of this sort. That the picture which they present is highly coloured is-to use a common expression-putting it very mildly. They are written for a purpose; and that purpose is not primarily to tell the literal truth, but to attract emigrants to a particular colony. The statistics which appear to give them an air of irrefutable authority are, to the uninitiated, most misleading; they ostentatiously deal in averages and means, but somehow or other, the unfavourable seasons seem just not to be included in the one, nor do eras of depression or panic ever affect the other. To give an intending emigrant a really fair idea of the country he is coming to, and of the life which he will there lead, there is probably no plan better than that which has been adopted by the author of this very pleasant and withal useful book. "A Gentleman Emigrant!' cried an American backwoods farmer, to whom we were one day describing Australian bush life, 'A Gentleman Emigrant! Why, what on airth's that? Guess he's a British Institution.'" For this large class, whose name to us in Canada conveys a very distinct idea, * The Gentleman Emigrant: His daily life, sports, and pastimes in Canada, Australia, and the United States. By W. Stamer, author of " Recollections of a Life of Adventure," &c. London: Tinsley Brothers, 1874. | Mr. Stamer writes, and his book, if only it conveys a really true picture of life in the Colonies, is well calculated to supply the information of which hundreds of young Englishmen are in want. There are many varieties of the species Gentleman Emigrant. They range from the educated, handy, laborious man, whose only object in leaving England is to be able to get more for his capital and a better opening for his children, to the lazy, sprawling ne'er-do-weel, who is packed off to Australia by an elder brother or a sorely-tried father, with the parental blessing and a cheque for £500. As a rule they are men of small means, and not averse to labour, but without any fixed profession or any mechanical or scientific training. For one reason or another they do not get on in England; the professions are overstocked, or their interest is nil, or their capital is too small, and their family too large for them to keep up appearances. They turn their eyes to the Colonies, vaguely in the hope that they can do better there. Very often, more often than not, they make a false step, and chiefly is this owing to the defective information, the delusive statements relying on which they have cast loose from their old anchorage and embarked on an unknown voyage. "Before advising any man to emigrate, we would first put to him the following questions:-If a gentleman by birth and education, have you a strong right arm and a sound constitution? Can you divest yourself of your gentility, and take it rough-and-tumble with those similarly circumstanced to yourself? No! Well, then, have you the equivalent of bone and muscle -Capital? You have not! Then stay at home. You would be almost certain to go to the wall in a new country." Having thus warned the would-be emigrant very emphatically, the author-whose remarks on emi gration in general we skip, not because they are not good, but because they are rather beside the purpose of the volume — next warns those who leave home of certain quicksands on which they may make shipwreck in the new land of their adoption-such as ruinous ideas about high farming; the craving for good society; superciliousness, greed and sport. “One more quicksand and we have done. That quicksand is sport. It is essential that there be some shooting and fishing in the vicinity of the settler's abode. The man who emigrates with the intention of combining farming with sport, may rest assured that his farm will never be the best paying one in the district, and that he should consider himself extremely fortunate if he do not go to the wall altogether. There may be, for aught we know, hundreds and thousands of instances to the contrary, but we can conscientiously say that in all our travels we have never met with a sporting settler who was a thriving one. In Canada and in the Northern States, the fishing season is the one in which he ought to be getting his crops in the hunting season, that in which he ought to be getting them out, or to be doing his "fall" ploughing. In a country where farming operations can be carried on with little or no intermission during the entire year, the loss of a day or two, even in the busiest season, is a matter of small importance, but in a country where there are only six short months between the first spring ploughing and the setting in of frost, an hour lost is not to be recovered. We do not mean that the settler, in order to succeed, must lock up his gun and fly-rod in a cupboard, and throw the key into the river. What we would impress upon him is, simply, that he cannot be, at one and the same time, Nimrod and a thriving farmer. Shooting and fishing for a little relaxation is one thing; going in for hunting as a pursuit is another. The settler who can content himself with whipping the adjacent streams for trout or with beating the surrounding woods for ruffed grouse or "rabbits" is all right: it is he who must have big game who is all wrong. The man who imagines that in the forest primeval one has only to take one's gun and beat about for an hour or so in order to bring home a fat buck or bear, or a dozen brace of wild-fowl, will find himself most grievously disappointed. With the exception of wild deer and the passenger pigeon in their respective seasons, ruffed grouse and the Virginia hare, game is not plentiful in the back woods. Unless systematically hunted, months—ay, years—may elapse without the settler's eye having been once gladdened by the sight of bear, deer, moose or cariboo. Does he want them, he must seek for them, not in his clearing, but away back in the heart of the wilderness. If he be a very good backwoodsman, and hard as nails, he may venture to start off unaccompanied; if not, he must take at least one guide, an Indian, with him, and everything necessary for a prolonged camping out. All this time his farm is left to take care of itself, and as may be imagined, it is seldom the better for it. Autumnal hunting in the grand old North American forest is delightful, but it unfortunately does not pay. There is certainly some hunting to be had in the winter when work is slack, but it is not so pleasant as in autumn. It is not every man who cares to take up his night's lodging in a snow-drift, and snow-shoeing, although very jolly along the flat, is apt to grow wearisome when pursued amongst the windfalls and cedar swamps of the dense forest." One more quotation before we come to description in detail of the lives of the two classes of settlers, through whose experiences the author tries to give to his readers an intelligible picture of the career of an emigrant. He is giving a warning against the too-great earnestness displayed usually by greenhorns in making a bargain. Our readers can decide for themselves, whether there is truth in these remarks. "There is a good deal of the Yankee about the Canadian. Let him think 1 there and keep up appearances, the latter, you want anything real bad," and he is a very Shylock. Make him believe that you can do perfectly well without it, or better still, that you don't feel disposed to take it at any price, and to effect a sale he will let you have it a bargain. But to get to windward of him the Britisher must be wide awake, for he is a very subtle cross-examiner, and can detect a discrepancy in a statement as quickly as an Old Bailey Lawyer. The cute Yankee seldom commits himself; he lets his adversary do the talking, and whittles. He who believes that the American whittles with no other object than to whittle away the time is very much mistaken in his man. The Yankee whittles that he may the better think and listen, and not unfrequently that he mayavoid having to look you in the face. You imagine that he is absorbed in his puerile occupation. Not a bit of it. The motion of his hand is purely mechanical; he is listening to every word you utter, and is at the same time revolving in his own mind what answer he shall give you. Inadvertently you contradict yourself or make some admission which had better been withheld. Master Yank looks up, smiles, and resumes his whittling. That smile means that he scores one point, and if, before the conclusion of the argument, he has not scored the remainder, and won the game, you will be smart-for a Britisher. Oh, Gentleman Emigrant! whosoever thou art, take the advice of one who has himself been whittled into many a foolish bargain-long promised visit. The first glimpse of the fight the enemy with his own weapons, buy a jack-knife, and whittle! When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war. Armed with stick and jack-knife, you will at least meet your adversary on equal terms, and if you lose the day, it will be superior strategy, not superior armour, that has conquered you." Two fellow passengers on the Allan steamer are named by the author, Mr. Benedict and Mr. Coelebs. The former, of course, is the typical married man, leaving England because he is unwealthy enough to remain By interior of the emigrant's house is seen by the warm light of the fire as the traveller enters it, and in this picture, at least, he has perhaps had "too much colour in his brush." "A woman's hand, and that a cunning one, is everywhere visible—in the graceful folds of the window-curtains, in the simple, yet artistic arrangement of the furniture, in the laying out of the table and side-board. We are in a Canadian farmhouse, but for any difference we can see in the dining-room and its appointment, we might be in an English villa. The fare is excellent and mostly home |