"For shame, Miss, to speak so disrespectfully of her, and she looking so ill and unhappy too. Your papa and she were talking very serious after dinner. I am afraid something is going wrong. There was a queer man came to see your papa yesterday morning, and talked so loud, as if they were quarrelling."

"What ideas you have, Ruth! I dare say it was some business dispute; but you know papa is so rich and respectable, that nothing can go wrong.'

"Well, Miss, I hope you will find it so. But indeed you had much better put on the dress your mamma left for you."

"Ruth, listen to me. Mamma is gone out to drink tea, and will not return until late, and then she has a long way to come. I am sure to be home before her, and if you tidy everything away, she will never know anything about my dress, if you only keep your own counsel. So make haste and get out my pretty pink satin that aunt Grace gave me on my birthday, and you can put on the ruche in a minute. Look! I have all ready."

And the wilful girl took a box out of a drawer, and produced the materials for the ruche together with some pink satin ribbons, including a long wide sash, and a pair of white kid gloves trimmed with pink.

"Why! you will be a pink bird altogether, Miss," said Ruth, beginning to sew on the ruche, for she saw it would be of no use disputing the point.

"Yes, Ruth, all but the shoes. Oh! how I wish I had a pair of white satin ones!" said the vain girl; "I should be complete then."

When Janet arrived at Beech Villa, she found even a more numerous party than she expected. The large back drawing-room was cleared out and chalked for dancing, while festoons of flowers and evergreens adorned the walls. Just as Janet entered, the young gentlemen chose their partners, and dancing commenced; so she crossed the room, and sat down by the eldest Miss Gilmore.

The girls began chatting as girls will, and Janet asked the names of many of the company whom she had never seen before.

"And who," said she, "is that very awkward girl with her hair cut so short, and dressed in plain book muslin without even a sash?

"That," said Lucy Gilmore, "is Miss Delaval. Excepting the Gordon Forbeses, they are quite the highest people of the neighbourhood. But Mrs. Delaval is such an odd creature."

"I think so indeed, when one sees the way in which her daughter is dressed. But here is a very fine-looking girl, this one in the blue crape and long gold chain, with her hair braided so beautifully."

Lucy turned towards the young lady pointed out, and saw a conceited, dressed-out doll, who appeared as if she could scarcely dance for very affectation.

"Oh!" she said, laughing, "that girl is,-who do you think? the only daughter and heiress of the quack doctor in High Street, who married his cook. She is now invited everywhere, because her father is so rich, but people can't help laughing at her, she is so conceited. To look at her, you might fancy her Miss Gordon Forbes herself."

Janet was ashamed to say that she had fixed upon her as Miss Forbes, so she proceeded in her inquiries. "Are the Misses Forbes here to-night? I heard that they were invited."

"Yes, there they are, just entering the room. They are later than usual."

And Miss Gilmore hastened towards them, and taking a hand of each brought them to sit by her, introducing Janet at the same time.

The baronet's daughters were very sweet gentlelooking girls, with soft brown curls falling about their necks, and, to Janet's despair, wore plain cambric

muslin dresses. She began to look at her gaudy pink satin, so unsuitable to a young girl of her age, with shame and disgust, and to wish heartily that she had depended upon her mamma's taste instead of her own; for she saw that only those who were laughed at for their bad taste were equally fine with herself. Weary of remaining to form a contrast with the simplyelegant girls beside her, she rose and walked to a recess in a bay-window, that looked very snug and tempting.

She had not been very long in this retreat, before two young ladies whom she knew very well, as they lived in the next street to her papa, sat down on a bench close by, but concealed from Janet's view by an angle in the wall.

"What a merry quadrille this last was," said one of them. "I suppose we shall have a polka next." "I hope so, indeed," replied the other. "Have you spoken to Janet Haigh yet?

"No, how fine she is in her pink satin! I wonder her mamma will allow her to go out so over-dressed, especially at this time."

"What do you mean?" said the other, "Mr. Haigh is very rich, is he not?"

"Why, I heard my papa talking about him, and he said, 'I thought what would be the end of it all, Haigh will be in the Gazette next week.' That means being a bankrupt you know."

Here there was an interruption in the shape of "Will you allow me the pleasure?" And one of the young ladies got up and walked away with her partner. The other did not remain long behind, and Janet was free to leave her corner without the awkwardness of appearing to have overheard the conversation.

But she did not stir, for though she could not realize the full meaning of being a bankrupt, her fears told her that it was something very dreadful. She began to connect what she had just heard with Ruth's hints about her mamma being in low spirits, and the rude man who had called upon her papa. Oh how she wished that eleven o'clock was come, the hour at which Ruth was to fetch her. She was sure that she dared not walk across the room again, in that gay pink satin, which was now her detestation.

Time wore wearily on, and Lucy Gilmore, missing her young friend, sought her out; and at length discovered her half hidden by the window curtain.

"Why, Janet," said she, "what are you doing here all by yourself? Have you not danced yet? No, that is odd. Wait a moment, and I will introduce you to a partner."

And hurrying away, she brought a young gentleman of about sixteen years of age back with her; and Janet, not knowing what excuse to frame for refusing to dance, was obliged to take her place in the quadrille then forming.

"Oh! Ruth," said the miserable girl, as at length, eleven o'clock having arrived and brought her attendant along with it, she found herself walking rapidly homewards,-Oh! "Ruth, how I wish I had taken your advice, and put on the muslin dress mamma left out for me."

"Why, Miss! What is the matter?"

"You were quite right, Ruth, you were quite right, and I was very naughty. But I wish I had never gone at all." And Janet burst into tears.

Ruth endeavoured to soothe her. "Tell me all about it, Miss Janet. Did any one say anything wrong about your dress?"

Janet, as well as she could between her sobs, now related the conversation she had overheard. While she was still doing this, they arrived at home, and scarcely had they been admitted, when another knock announced the return of Mrs. Haigh. The disobedient Janet, fearing her mamma's displeasure, made all

haste into bed; and scarcely had she laid her head on the pillow, while Ruth huddled her gay costume into the nearest drawer, than the mother entered to say good night to her only and darling child.

How remorseful felt the young deceiver as her mamma bent over her, and even while kindly asking how she had enjoyed herself, looked so haggard and care-worn that Janet could not avoid anxiously inquiring if she were ill.

'No, my dear. I have been engaged in unpleasant business, that is all. I trust your papa may be home to-morrow. Good night, love."

Janet clasped her arms about her mamma's neck, and it was with difficulty she could refrain from confessing the fault she had been guilty of, and begging her mamma's forgiveness. But she thought to herself, -She is already unhappy, and it would only distress her further to find her daughter so naughty a child. And perhaps she will never hear of it from other people.

Janet was mistaken in this last supposition. The very next day, a gentleman having called upon her papa immediately upon Mr. Haigh's return, the latter sent to say that he desired to see his daughter immediately. The girl obeyed, trembling, for conscience had made coward of her; and her fears were by no means relieved when she saw her papa's face, and the stern knitting of his brows.

"Come here, Janet," he said, "and answer me truthfully. Among other unpleasant information, this gentleman, Mr. Freeman, has been assuring me that my young daughter appeared last night at a ball attired in a manner more befitting the Princess Royal than a plain and now ruined merchant's daughter, but with a gaudiness that the attendants of the Princess would have too much good taste to permit. Is it true, Janet? Were you dressed in pink satin last night?"

Janet began to cry violently. "Yes-papa. I— I-Mamma did not know about it-I-I would put it

on.

"Oh!" said Mr. Haigh, and his brow cleared. "You see, Mr. Freeman," he went on to say to his visitor, "it was no extravagant or injudicious proceeding on the part of my wife, but a mere piece of childish vanity. I trust you will clear me with all those who have been pleased to say hard things about this slight indiscretion. As for allowing Janet to attend such an entertainment at all, no man likes to expose his affairs before it is inevitable. Speculation would have been excited by Janet's non-appearance at a party given by her most intimate friend, and where all the young people of the neighbourhood were assembled."

"I comprehend your reasoning, Mr. Haigh," said Mr. Freeman, "though I may not entirely agree with it. And I trust this occurrence may be a lasting warning to Miss Janet. If it had not been explained, she would have done her father more harm than she has any idea of."

And the visitor rose to take his leave. As soon as he was gone, Mr. Haigh turned towards his daughter, who was still sobbing and crying violently.

"Come, Janet, give over crying, and tell me all about it. I will not punish you. Your own feelings will be ample retribution. You have perilled your poor father's certificate."

When Janet had told her papa, with many bitter tears, all about her obstinacy and disobedience, concluding her account with the relation of her mortification at the ball; he, in his turn, confided to her the position of his affairs. He told her how all their furniture would have to be sold, and that they would have to remove into a smaller house with one servant, or perhaps no servant at all; and how she must be a

NOTHING LIKE LEATHER!

ONCE upon a time, when the city of Liege was threatened with an attack from without, it was strongly urged by some of the most respectable burgesses of the place, that fortifications should be immediately erected, and that they should be of leather! Reader, do you laugh? Know that the principal burgesses of Liege were tanners, curriers, and leather merchants! The proposal was not so ludicrous after all; certainly not more so than many of our modern schemes, in which the nothing like leather policy is equally apparent.

We have got the trick of pushing things to ludicrous extremes at this time of day. Some theory has been broached, is applied, and found to answer; and immediately it is sought to be applied in all manner of ways-fitting and unfitting. You may see this in such small matters as caoutchouc and gutta percha, which are now sought to be applied to all imaginable purposes. We have India-rubber cloaks, shoes, boots, trowsers, boats, umbrellas, beds, bands, and buffers; and we have gutta-percha balls, ropes, shoe-soles, boxes, picture-frames, and sideboards!

But the "nothing like leather" principle is more strikingly exemplified in the current movements of the day. Not long ago Free Trade was the great question; and Free Trade became the law. Forthwith a host of projectors sprang up, who proposed applying it to everything. Free Trade in law, Free Trade in banking, Free Trade in religion, Free Trade in carrying letters, Free Trade in education, Free Trade to the extent of doing nothing for nobody, but letting everybody do everything for themselves. We were to let everything alone. To leave towns uncleansed, streets unsewered, children uneducated, criminals unreformed, paupers unfed, letters uncarried, because to attempt to do these things by means of a law, would be an "interference with the free trade principle." In short, it meant nothing like leather!

Look at the plans of social and national reform which are afoot. There are fifty different movements, each of which, according to its special advocates, is the only thing to save society. Listen to the multitude of cries: "More church," cry the clergy; "The charter," cry the working classes; "National schools," cry the educators; Total abstinence," cry the teetotallers; "No war," cry the peace advocates; "No state schools and churches," cry the voluntaries; "No flesh meat," cry the vegetarians; "Co-operation and communism," cry the socialists; and so on with a host of other movements. We need not say that we sympathize with many of them, though we cannot disguise from ourselves that they strikingly illustrate the nothing like leather principle.

Every man sees in his own panacea the one thing needful to make men as they ought to be. He will

see no virtue in another man's project. He treats it with indifference, if not with scorn; or, at all events, he does as Tom Codlin did, tries to persuade us that "Codlin's the friend-not Short; Short 's very well as far as he goes, but the real friend is Codlin-not Short."

A man who has once fairly laid hold of a panacea sees no difficulties in the way he will hear of no objections to its practicability. The worth that there may be in some other man's panacea he will not hear of. His is the only genuine thing-the true remedy

the infallible nostrum the universal medicine. He has perfect faith in it-he is even willing to be a bigot in its defence. Nothing like leather!

Morrison's pills-old Parr-homeopathy-hydropathy-metallic traction-medical galvanism- -mesmerism, a host of illustrations spring to view in this wide field. It makes the fortune of many a quack-nothing like leather!

Don't you hear it in religions? Are you not told of certain pales, beyond which, &c., &c.? Then, you hear every day of the misery of certain nations being set down to the account of their religion, and the prosperity of certain other nations of a different religion, to the account of theirs. There is no end of this "jawing." It means-nothing like leather!

The same with political institutions. If a usurper upturns a government, and puts it under foot of military despotism, you hear the cry "see the working of democracy!" The lesson that would thus be taught is obvious.

Then, how often do we hear of the end of all things approaching! The sun of Britain's glory set! The last roar of the British Lion! or, as the Times put it the other day-"the last yeoman, the last peasant, the last country's pride, the last farmer's friend, the last sheaf of English wheat, the last loaf of homemade bread, the last barrel of good October ale, the last ship, the last bit of English oak." You know what it all means-that there is only one thing that will save us, and that is-a tax upon our bread! Nothing like leather!

As men grow older and wiser they cease to have perfect faith in any panacea. They find a little of good in everything. They are ready to welcome good from whatever quarter it may come, for they begin to find out that truth and patriotism are not confined to any particular cliques, or parties, or factions. And after all, we do manage to advance, notwithstanding the cries which proceed from some quarters, that we are ruined because we do not go fast enough, and from others, that we are ruined because we are moving in any degree at all. The mass is really advancing, and who knows but that the nothing like leather men are doing their own part towards helping the world onward!

(ORIGINAL.)

S. SMILES.

SONG OF THE RED MAN.

I SAW thee a stranger when low thou wert lying,— Thou mightst have been sleeping, thou mightst have been dying;

The pallor of anguish was over thy cheek,

I found thou wert lonely, and wounded, and weak.
This right hand in charity bound up thy breast,—
My home in the mountains gave shelter and rest;
And my well of sweet waters, my flask of rich wine,
My bread and my goat's-flesh unasked-for were thine.
You saw me a stranger content with a home
Where the wandering white man but rarely has come ;

You saw me content with my rifle and hounds,
With my date-shadowed roof, and my maize-covered
grounds;

You saw me possessed of one exquisite thing,—
A pure daughter as bright as the prairie in spring;
You saw me kneel down when the lightnings were
wild,

And ask God for naught else but my beautiful child.

Three moons have run out since we met by the river, Your life has been spared by the bountiful Giver, Your health has returned with its strength and its

grace,

With its flash in your eye and its tinge on your face. You can tread like a deer up the rugged hill side,You can swim where the stream is as rapid as wide. There is nerve in your grasp, there is pride on your brow;

I can help you no longer, oh! go from me now.

To my milk and my fruit, to my corn and my meat, You are welcome as light,-you may drink, you may

eat;

But I heard you last night whisper softly and low
With my child in the leafy savannah below;
I saw you bend gracefully over her hand
As you told her the south was a lovelier land;
You made vows of deep love with a smile and a sigh,
And with treachery lured my young nestling to fly.

Oh, white man! the blood may well redden your skin,
For the theft you design is the meanest of sin;
You have shared all I have till you need it no more,
Yet would take from me that which no hand can
restore.

I've been robbed by the panther, he comes to my fold
In his desperate fierceness, defying and bold;

I have seen him go forth with fresh blood on his

tongue,

But he left me my honour, he took not my young.

The gaunt wolf crouches low to spring out on the lamb,
And, if hunger be on him, he spares not the dam ;
The great buffalo seizes the colt and the steer,
And the wild dogs at noontide will harass my deer.
There's the snake in the jungle, the hawk in the sky,
Let them strike what they may, it is doomed, and
must die;

But the boa and vulture declare what they seek,
And conceal not with flowers the coils or the beak.

Go, leave me, false man! while my child is secure ;
Away! for I chafe, and my rifle is sure.
There's the whip-snake and jaguar few leagues to the
east,

Herd with them, for thou'lt match with the reptile and beast.

Should a lily-skinned daughter e'er cling to thy neck, Then remember the father whose peace thou would'st wreck ;

Away then, base coward! there's guilt in thine eye, And there's lead in my barrel,--away! or thou'lt die ! ELIZA COOK.

Printed by Cox (Brothers) & WYMAN, 74-75, Great Queen Street, London; and published by CHARLES COOK, at the Office of the Journal, 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street.

YOUNG WOMEN IN THE COLONIES. EMIGRATION heretofore has been too one-sided. It has been held up as a means by which young men might better themselves in the world, and lay the foundations of good fortune. And, generally speaking, emigration has greatly improved their circumstances, and made life comparatively easy, comfortable, and prosperous, for them. In a good colony, a young man gets out of the sphere of intense competition, and enters upon a new and untilled field, where ability and industry have full and free play. There the steadiest worker invariably succeeds the best. The young man labours in constant hope, for he knows that his reward is sure. He not only lives well, but accumulates property for his children, whom he leaves behind him without any fear or anxiety as to their future, so far as worldly means are concerned.

It is indeed a subject of complaint with many prosperous emigrants, that they have no wives or families to whom to leave their worldly goods. After all, life without woman is "stale, barren, and unprofitable." Do as he will, man's happiness is, to a very large extent, dependent upon woman's presence,in the Australian bush, as in the crowded cities of the old world. That most cherished part of a man's life, -which centres in home,-can scarcely have an existence but for her. The poet, addressing woman, says -"We had been brutes without you;" and 'tis true. Where she is not, a gross low life of the senses is apt to set itself up. Woman softens man's nature and sweetens the breath of his home. He is thus humanized and civilized. And then comes responsibility, with fatherly joys and cares, attendant upon the introduction of first one, and then another, little being into the family circle. In the home of the emigrant, children are the greatest of treasures. Their prattle is music to the father's ear; their love makes his life glad and joyous; and as they grow up, their hopeful aid makes his old age contented and happy. Every fresh pair of arms in the household of a colonist is an addition to his fortune; never a burden or a hindrance to him, as is too often the case in the old country.

Now, in consequence of emigration being so "onesided" as we have said it is, and embraced as a means of "getting on," by young men much more frequently than it is by young women,-serious

[PRICE 1d.

inconveniences arise, first to society at home, and next to society in the colonies. Look at the emigration, for example, which took place from the United Kingdom to the United States in the year 1850. From the returns, we find that the men who emigrated thither in that year exceeded the women by not less than twenty thousand! The same disproportion is observed in the numbers of the sexes who emigrate to the colonies; and the general result is, that there is a large surplus population of women left at home-the excess of women over men in Great Britain, chiefly in consequence of the excess of male emigration, amounting at the present time to not less than half-amillion! It is easy to see what the consequence is. All the walks of female labour are crowded; competition, already far too keen, is greatly intensified. Employment for young women becomes more and more painful and difficult. Suffering of needlewomen increases, genteel poverty becomes more unbearable, and the ranks of the destitute and the helpless are crowded with victims.

Emigration to the Australian and African colonies is of a similar character. The emigrants are chiefly men; whereas the young women who ought to accompany them, are left at home; and while the brothers are thriving, the sisters are often starving. In New South Wales, at the last census, there were 118,927 men, and only 77,777 women. It is obvious that serious evils must arise out of such a disparity in the numbers of the sexes, which need not be specified here. We have somewhere seen it stated, that in some districts, the number of women was so small, that when it became known that a new woman was coming into the district, men would come from distant stations to see her pass along the road! Whether this be a joke or not, certain it is that in the more remote districts the want of female help is greatly felt. Men act as hutkeepers, dairymen, and household servants; thus, homes in the bush are often no homes; they want the cheering voice and the tidy help of women to make them cozy, clean, and comfortable, as homes should be. But where women are so scarce a commodity, they often cannot be had either as servants, or, what is still more wanted, as wives; and thus the colonial well-being seriously suffers.

Fancy a colony of men only! What a pandemonium it would be! It must not only live miserably, but

die without issue. It could not exist but for a generation, and then expire, unless kept up by new draughts of men from the old country. The evils of such a state of things are now actually experienced in several of our colonies,-at Natal and New Zealand for instance,-though in the latter colony, we observe, from the last Report of the Emigration Commissioners, the white men are accommodating themselves to circumstances, by intermarrying with the natives; and already a considerable number of English settlers have married Maori women. Captain Stokes, in a despatch to the Lieutenant Governor of New Zealand, of date the 1st September, 1850, thus describes Stewart's Island, near to Otago colony, and its inhabitants :- "The eastern and northern sides have several good harbours; of these, Paterson's Inlet deserves particular notice, being nowhere surpassed in New Zealand. It has many convenient bearing down coves, and is generally surrounded by fine timber, such as rimee, rata, black pine, totara, &c. This inlet seems very eligible for a small permanent settlement. On a narrow tongue of land, forming its eastern shore, are congregated twelve, out of the one hundred and seven European inhabitants of Foveaux Strait. They have a few cattle. The other white men live scattered over the north and south shores. Some have passed twenty-two years in this solitude; and, with few exceptions, are married to Maori women, and their daughters are married to Europeans also."

Mrs. Chisholm was in no small degree stimulated to her philanthropic exertions in New South Wales, by the inconvenience and manifold evils arising from the scarcity of female labourers of good character in that colony. She has been over and over again importuned by settlers in the bush, to send them not only servants but wives. To supply the latter commodity involves a very serious responsibility, which Mrs. Chisholm was slow to undertake; but without directly acting as a uniting agent between the lone bachelor in the bush, and the equally lonely and miserably remunerated single woman in the old country, she has indirectly, and without prominently appearing in the transaction, been the happy means of shedding joys and blessings on many a solitary home in the back settlements, and thus veritably made the "wilderness rejoice and blossom as the rose."

The Female Emigration Fund originated in the philanthropic exertions of Mrs. Chisholm. The Hon. Sidney Herbert has been the moving spirit of this association; and already it has been the instrument of much good. Its more immediate object was to relieve the sufferings of the poor needlewomen of the metropolis-a most deserving, though helpless class. This society offered them the means of escape from a country where their only possible calling brings them ruin, to a land which offers them the prospect of a home, and where they may dwell in comfort and in honour. The poorest, most respectable, industrious, deserving, and suitable in point of age, were selected from the crowd of applicants who made their appearance; and about 700 young women have already been snatched from the perils and miseries which, in the mother country, are almost the inevitable lot of persons of their station, and sent out to Australia, where they are welcomed as a blessing. The intense competition of

needlewomen at home has thus been relieved, at the same time that the evils arising from the disproportion of the sexes in the colonies have been mitigated. But a large number of servants have also been sent out a class extremely wanted in all the Australian colonies. Many of the applicants of this class were in a state of great distress at the period of their respective applications, and it is matter for thankfulness, that the Society was enabled to rescue them from the dismal fate which so often befalls unemployed young women in large towns. The operations of the Society include the provision of an Emigrants' Home in London, up to the period of emigration; education for those who require it; a passage out, during which the emigrants are kept under strict moral discipline; and their reception in an Emigrants' Home on their arrival in the colonies, up to the period of their engagement as servants, or in other capacities.

It is gratifying to be enabled to add, that all the ¦¦ female emigrants were employed at good wages, varying from £14 to £25 per annum, with board, almost immediately on their arrival. The emigration agent at Adelaide says, writing to the committee,"I think, if the same care in the selection is observed, as in those who have already come out, you may safely continue to forward any reasonable number-a few at a time is the surest way of getting them good situations. Good cooks, housemaids, laundrymaids, and particularly servants of all work, will never find any difficulty in obtaining situations, provided they do not look for unreasonably high wages." The cases are numerous of young women who were accustomed to starve in London as needlewomen, on from two to five shillings a week, being immediately engaged, on their arrival at Port Philip, at £25 a-year. ceive the Elysium of such a change!

Con

The Rev. Mr. Bodenham, of Sydney, in writing home, offers the following sensible remarks :-" Of course, to send out these young women under the idea that they will all obtain a living in the colony by needlework, would be unreasonable, and end in disappointment; they must take to domestic service, as nursemaids, housemaids, cooks, laundresses, or general servants, in which employments they will obtain at starting (even while they are comparatively inefficient), from £10 to £12 a-year wages, with excellent board and lodging in the family; and when they become practised servants, and can act as parlourmaids, &c., higher still. For some years hence, from eight hundred to a thousand per annum of such young women, if arriving at moderate intervals in the colony-say six to eight weeks-will easily obtain employment. I may mention, too, that all kinds of women's clothing being exceedingly cheap, girls of a saving disposition are enabled to make deposits from their wages in the Savings' Bank, while those of a less valuable sort dress from it extravagantly fine. The opportunities here for young women to get married cause a constant change of servants; and this prospect should not be hidden from the parties in whose behalf you have taken so kind an interest."

What the "opportunities" referred to are, may be briefly illustrated by facts. For instance, of one lot of thirty-six needle women who landed at Melbourne, three were married on the day after their arrival. The following are selected from the cases of emigrants by the ships named :

Emigrants per ship "William Stevenson."

E.D.W., Formerly assistant to a dressmaker; obtained a situation as servant at Sydney, was married in Jannary, 1851, to a very respectable man connected with a mercantile house at Hobart Town, and is now in comfortable circumstances.