two years at least. Then go about freely, get into the bush away from
the city, make friends with every one everywhere, and let it be known
that you are in search of work. Very soon you will hear of something or
other. Take the job, the first that comes in your way, and stick to it
till something better turns up. Don't be afraid of it whatever it is;
don't imagine anything will hurt you or lower your dignity in the
slightest so long as it is honest. Even if they make you a
street-scavenger, remember that is better than loafing. In one year, or
two, or three, you will be perfectly at home in the new life, and able
to see, according to your abilities, the path that offers you the best
prospect of the greatest success. During your new-chum days of
apprenticeship you must consider yourself as a common peasant, like the
men you will probably have to associate with; don't be disconcerted at
that, just work on, and by-and-by you will get ahead of them. You will
meet plenty of nice gentlemanly fellows in any part of New Zealand, and
they will think all the better of you if you are earnestly and
energetically industrious. Lastly, don't run away with the notion that
you are going to jump into luck directly you land. Wages are high to the
right people, but you are not among those at the outset. You may be
satisfied if you do anything more than just earn your keep, for the
first six or twelve months."

I think that that is, upon the whole, pretty sound advice for the class
of men to whom it is addressed; but I will go further, and point out
what advantages the average middle-class "young gentleman" may
reasonably look forward to from emigration to New Zealand. In the first
place, he may expect to enjoy robust health, more perfect and enjoyable
than he could hope for if tied down to a counting-house stool in the
dingy atmosphere of a city. He will exchange the dull monotony of a
sedentary occupation in the chill and varying climate of Britain, for a
life of vigorous action in a land whose climate is simply superb. When
he gets through the briars that must necessarily be traversed at the
outset, he will find himself happier, freer from anxiety, and, on the
whole, doing better than he would be if he had remained at the old life.
He will "feel his life in every limb," and, remote from the world, know
naught of its cares. If he be anything of a man, before ten or a dozen
years are gone he will find himself with a bit of land and a house