As a general statement we may estimate the price of land in the United States and British provinces of America at six shillings per acre, at least this is somewhat about the price which the Government demands; but land may be had at even a lower rate from private individuals, and provided that it possesses certain advantages it will bring a higher price. Thus, for instance, the holder of an out-of-the-way free grant will be glad to sell it for two shillings an acre; and we know of a case where an individual willingly paid £600 for 200 acres, (the price asked at Canterbury) situated fifteen miles from a town, uncleared and unfenced but possessing the one advantage of a frontage on a good road, for which it would seem that £2. 14s. and not ten shillings an acre was charged. In Australia the land is put up at auction at the minimum price of five shillings an acre, exclusive of a charge to three times the amount for the importation of labour, but then we must bear in mind that as North America, owing to long and severe winters, is but an agricultural, so is Australia from its droughts only a pastoral country, while New Zealand is both. In North America there is no labour fund, owing to the low price of the passage from this country, but there are drawbacks which more than compensate for this advantage, and whilst in Australia it takes on the average five acres to support one sheep, in New Zealand one acre will carry four sheep. As far then as land, labour, and roads, the three essentials of a colony, are concerned, we are satisfied that to those who can afford the first outlay, in no place will they be found so cheap as at Canterbury. Thus we see that two pounds out of every three is a simple and remunerating investment. We The same arguments might be adduced to show that the remaining shillings are, duty apart, but a simple composition in one payment for the annual outlay in other colonies of large sums for inadequate church accommodation and inefficient schools. would, however, prefer that the English churchman should consider this sum as a free offering rather than a tax, since we firmly believe that it will be the means of abundant blessings on the bestower. Of the natural capabilities of New Zealand in general, and of Canterbury in particular, much might be said that it would be impossible to compress within the compass of this brief notice. Suffice it to say, that were we to enumerate the physical causes that have co-operated to place England in her present pre-eminence amongst the nations of the earth, we should be but recapitulating those of New Zealand, where they will be found to exist in a higher degree. Insular position, fertile soil, extent of coast, numerous harbours, large fisheries, timber, coal, iron, copper, and other metals, all give indications of the future greatness of this prospective "Great Britain of the Southern Hemisphere," as New Zealand is already, in anticipation, termed. The climate too is most admirably adapted to the English constitution, and much resembles that of the west of England or the south of Ireland, inasmuch as it is moist, but the temperature is higher than with us by an average of ten degrees, and more like that of the south of France. The province of Canterbury, which at present contains 2,400,000 acres, lies on the east side of the middle island, and as soon as the overland route by the isthmus of Panama is established, it will be in point of time about six or seven weeks distant from England. The capital, Christchurch, is immediately contiguous to the northern side of Banks' peninsular, which is densely timbered. The remainder of the country consists of a large extensive plain or prairie, interspersed with clumps of trees and everywhere intersected by rivers and brooks. Although the absence of an abundant and general supply of timber may possibly have the effect of enhancing the prices of fuel and planks, yet this drawback (should it exist) will be more than compensated by having the land already cleared for the plough, and thus a heavy outlay of from six to twelve pounds per acre will be avoided. The capital necessary for a colonist ought not to be less than £10 per acre for all farms under 200 acres, as 50 acres is the smallest lot that can be purchased of the association, so £500 is the lowest amount of capital required for farming purposes. As, however, few colonists will have means sufficient to purchase land enough for pastoral purposes, the Association will let to him, at the rate of one penny per acre per annum, land to five times the amount of his purchase, accompanied with the right of pre-emption in case it should be brought into the market for sale. ́In addition to this advantage, a further one is granted to the first body of colonists in the shape of a gift of a half acre section in the capital for every 50 rural acres purchased. We have only to conclude this imperfect sketch by requesting any of our readers who may have thoughts of emigrating to turn their serious attention to the advantages held out by the Canterbury Association. On the 30th of June next, the first land sales will be closed, and in September the first expedition will embark. On its arrival at Port Cooper it will find that every preparation has been made for them. For a year and a half have a body of 150 men been employed in surveying the country, ascertaining its best portions, forming maps, making roads, preparing materials for building, providing temporary houses, and, in fact, doing everything to take off the rough edge of a settler's first experience in a colony. To himself alone must he trust, under GoD, for ultimate success, which we doubt not will come if he will exercise resolution, fortitude, and prudence for two or perhaps three years. After that period all is plain sailing.* For further particulars information had better be sought from the offices of the Canterbury Association, at 41, Charing Cross. TO-MORROW. "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth."-Proverbs xxvii. 1. I. BOAST not thyself of a to-morrow, To thee it may be fraught with sorrow, II. Of all the friends thou lov'st the dearest- III. The fairest plans thou'rt now pursuing, And e'en the bliss thou deem'st the sweetest IV. The present time thou'rt now possessing, (It ne'er may come) the looked for morrow. КАРРА. OLIVER GOLDSMITH. CHAPTER I. It is our desire in our future numbers to pay somewhat more attention to general literature than we have hitherto done, and to present our readers from time to time with gems of thought set in prose and verse from our most celebrated authors, past and present. We shall thus confer a boon upon those, who have neither the opportunity nor the means of consulting large, and in some cases expensive works, or who cannot afford the leisure requisite for wandering through very many pages for some little precious ore that may be found embedded therein. To render our purpose more complete we shall also give brief sketches of the lives of some of our poets and historians, in the hope, nay with the full certainty, that lessons of warning or of comfort will be learnt from them, and that it will be seen on what rocks they made shipwreck in their voyage through life, or by what beaconlight they were conducted safely into harbour. We shall com mence our design with Oliver Goldsmith, not only because almost every one has read his "Vicar of Wakefield,” “Deserted Village,” &c., but because Washington Irving's elegant and charming biography presents us with ample and interesting materials for condensation. "Goldsmith was the son of a clergyman, who for many years had a small country curacy, and was literally passing rich with forty pounds a year.’ Two years after Oliver's birth his father succeeded to the rectory of Kilkenny west, and went to reside at Lissoy, where he held a farm of seventy acres. This spot is said to be the Auburn in the Deserted Village; and many of the scenes in his "Vicar of Wakefield” are painted from home, whilst the virtues of his father are described in Dr. Primrose. One or two of the family pictures he drew in other of his works may be quoted. "My father," says he, in the Man of Black, "who in some respects," writes Washington Irving, "is a counterpart of Goldsmith himself; my father, the younger son of a good family, was possessed of a small living in the Church. His education was above his fortune, and his generosity greater than his education. Poor as he was, he had his flatterers poorer than himself; for every dinner he gave them, they returned him an equivalent in praise; and this was all he wanted. The same ambition that actuates a monarch at the head of his army, influenced my father at the head of his table; he told the story of the ivy-tree, and that was laughed at; he repeated the jest of the scholars, and the one pair of breeches, and the company laughed at that; but the story of Taffy in the sedan-chair was sure to set the table in the roar. Thus his pleasure increased in proportion to the pleasure he gave; he loved all the world, and he fancied all the world loved him. “He superintended the education of his children himself, and rendered them incapable of withstanding the slightest impulse made either by real or fictitious distress. In a word, says Oliver, we were perfectly instructed in the art of giving away thousands, before we were taught the necessary qualification of getting a farthing. 66 His father, however imperfectly he might educate his children, was a priest of the olden time, who forgot not the poor, and was ever ready to welcome and relieve the distressed. We are told in the 'Deserted Village' that— 'His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain ; The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud, Sat by his fire, and talked the night away; Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Careless their merits, or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.' "When three years of age Oliver was entrusted to the care of an old dame, named Elizabeth Delap, who was wont to boast in after time, with conscious pride, that she was the first who placed a book in Goldsmith's hand. Thence in his sixth year, he was removed, and placed in the school of one Thomas Byrne, an old soldier, who delighted his youthful scholars with many a tale of well-fought battle-field, or fairy lore, when he ought to have been instructing them in the sounder and more useful branches of education. There is but little question that Paddy Byrne is the original of the pedagogue drawn in the Deserted Village.' 'Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew, "A severe attack of small pox (the effects of which where vi ible upon his face) caused his removal from Byrne to the Rev. |