THE

MONTHLY CHRONICLE.

AUSTRALIND.

"To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new."-MILTON.

THE first feeling with which we contemplate the emigration of any portion of the poorer classes of the population of a country can rarely be otherwise than painful. Every one whose sympathies extend over the broad tracts of humanity must experience an involuntary emotion at the idea of any of his fellow creatures being obliged to quit the home of their fathers, committing themselves and their families to the pathless seas, in order to seek a foreign and far distant shore, because their mother country is no longer adequate to their support. Its lands, and the produce of its lands, are not for them; its producing powers do not need their assistance; its dense populations, struggling for existence, drive them to the brink of necessity and the sea-shore; its social institutions cry aloud, "Take shipping and away, there is no longer any bread for you here." Languid and heart-sick, those who are ruined in their worldly condition and prospects at home, their only crime being their bad luck and their poverty, and those, too, who are seeking to better their very precarious state, yet do not possess much vigour of mind or body, sail from their native shores with a feeling of unhappiness, and a sense of exile for ever, which it is impossible to contemplate in all its realities, without a deep sympathy with their fate. Their fate did not originate with any decay in their strength or honest endeavours, but with that "rottenness in the state of Denmark" whereby their strength was prostrated, and their endeavours crippled or rendered null and void. With the vigorous in mind and body, the reasonably dissatisfied and enterprising spirits, the predominant feeling is, no doubt, "To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new." With these also we can sympathise, and only wonder that the feeling is not much more general. And this naturally leads us to a consideration, not of the state of those old fields and pastures at home, wherein " steel traps and spring guns are set," but to the state of those native dwelling-places, the leaving of which occasions so many pangs of unavailing regret to the necessitous emigrants.

In the speech of the Marquis of Normanby (lately published), on moving the second reading of the "Drainage of Buildings Bill," there occur several very striking extracts from reports of the condition of our large cities:

"Of Liverpool, Dr. Duncan gives the following statements :- - He estimates the working population of Liverpool to amount to 170,000 or 175,000, of which 38,000 live in cellars. Of these cellars there are, in round numbers, 8000, and the average inhabitants in each something under five heads. The mortality amongst the inhabitants of these cellars is 35 per cent. greater than that in other parts of the town. Of the remaining number of the working population of Liverpool, 86,400 live in close courts, having no under-ground drainage. The crowded and filthy condition of these courts is graphically described by Dr. Duncan, as well as the density of their population; he has seen, for instance, four families huddled together in one room ten feet square. Dr. Duncan speaks particularly of the dreadful

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stench which came from these miserable lodging-houses; which an Irishman, on arriving in Liverpool, with a sort of melancholy wit, declared was so dreadful as almost to take the roof off his head.'". Speech of the Marquis of Normanby, on Friday, 12th of February, 1841. p. 15 and 16.

No elaborate description could ever so thoroughly have conveyed the force with which the stench rose under the flinching nostrils of the new comer. Concerning Glasgow, his lordship quotes the evidence of Mr. Symons, who thus expresses himself—

"I have_seen_human degradation in some of its worst phases, both in England and abroad, but I can advisedly say that I did not believe, until I visited the wynds of Glasgow, that so large an amount of filth, crime, misery, and disease, existed in one spot in any civilised country.;' and again: In the lower lodging-houses, ten, twelve, and sometimes twenty persons of both sexes and all ages sleep promiscuously on the floor, in different degrees of nakedness. These places are generally, as regards dirt, damp, and decay, such as no person of common humanity to animals would stable his horse in."— Ibid. p. 15.

Of the condition of the dwelling-places of large numbers of the poor in London, the evidence of one of the first physicians and most enlightened philosophers of the age will convey, in the following brief extract, an appalling picture:

"Dr. Southwood Smith states," pursues Lord Normanby, "that in a room six feet by ten, and only five feet high, which he had seen, six people lived and slept. In another room, seven feet by six, there were four women and two men sleeping every night. And another instance which the doctor mentions is that of a room not half the size of the committee room in which he was giving his evidence, in which no less than fifteen persons dwelt.” — Ibid. p. 12.

In the petition of the labouring classes in favour of the "Drainage of Buildings Bill, we find the following statements, which cannot be read without deep emotion:

"That, as examples of the manner in which the dwellings of the poorer classes are crowded together in some parts of the metropolis, your petitioners would humbly call the attention of your Right Honourable House to the following facts, which they have reason to believe are not unparalleled; first, that in St. Giles's, within a circle of 700 yards, there live 5000 souls; and secondly that, in a space bounded by Goswell Street, Chiswell Street, Bunhill-row, and Old Street, being, as nearly as your petitioners can ascertain, a space of 550 yards square, there live 8000 souls, and within the same space there are no less than six burial grounds.

'That, as long as the causes which have produced such a state of things are allowed to go on unchecked, the natural term of human life cannot be enjoyed by persons in the class of your petitioners – a boon given by the great Father of all, to be enjoyed by all."*

It also appears," from the report of the Poor Law Inquiry Commission, that there are in Ireland 2,300,000 individuals of the working classes, for whose labour there is no demand during a period of thirty weeks in the year.

A map is now before us of another part of the British dominions — the western coast of Australia. Throughout an extent of country equal in size to all England and France united, there are to be seen, instead of the names of cities or towns, the following descriptive notices of large tracts:— "Open plains, with rich soil and grass." "Wooded hills." "Level plains covered with grass, the soil a good brown loam." "Murray river, bordered by a mahogany forest; very large timber, rich soil." "Good feed in the valleys." "Pasture land, with many lakes." "Very rich valley,"

See the speech of the Marquis of Normanby, on the 12th Feb. 1841, published, together with an Abstract of the Drainage Bill, and three Forms of Petitions. Charles Knight, Ludgate Street.

"Very fine country, abundance of kangaroos." country," &c.

"Rich and picturesque

These pictures do indeed present a very strong contrast for the contemplation of all those whose lot it has been to exist for years amidst crowded alleys full of malaria, where every man's house, as the "Morning Chronicle" justly remarked, is not so much "his castle" as his "dunghill"— horrible and demoralising abodes, to which let us rejoice that the attention of the legislature has at length been turned. That they have ever existed, and do now exist, should make us mourn with ashes on our hearts. For dragging them into the light of day the lasting gratitude of the country will rest upon Lord Normanby, and upon the individuals whose personal researches in regions which cannot be entered without peril to life, have awakened that noble lord to the extent of the evil. To one gentleman, in especial — Dr. Southwood Smith-his lordship declared his obligations for much useful information and many personal communications. To those unfortunate inhabitants of places which breathe pestilence to body and soul, and where the word "home" sounds like a mockery, it is not, it cannot be, an unfeeling thing to say that the love of one's native country may be carried too far. The only real and lasting tie to those thus circumstanced is that of the domestic affections; and provided those affections be satisfied, wholly or in part, the pain at the necessity of emigration is generally an ideal and a temporary grief, and the exchange soon found to be marvellously for the better. On the more wealthy and enterprising individuals there can be no need to make any remark. But there is one warning of paramount importance to all; it is this:- Beware of blind emigration, and of emigration without foregone conclusions, and "all appliances and means to boot," either of your own, or of those who accompany you. Let no poor man imagine he has but to be put ashore at Southern or Western Australia, and that he can immediately pick up rump-steaks and diamonds, like Sindbad the Sailor, or that fields will plough themselves, while he, as "monarch of all he surveys," looks on and wonders. There must be the foregone conclusion of fertile lands; the appliances and means of wealth and implements; the absolute and indispensable pre-establishment of a certain and regular co-operation between employers and labourers. Emigrate in a dream, blind to every thing but discontent, or craving after wealth, and certain ruin and misery must ensue. Colonise upon a pre-established system, and, if your soil be fertile, your labours will realise your hopes, and yourselves and your families may reap the harvest and be merry under the same sun that beheld your destitution in your native land.*

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A new era has arisen in the method of settling in new countries. Instead of the old plan of emigration we now have colonisation one result of the principle of co-operation which is more and more coming into play. It is now understood, we hope generally - if not, the sooner the better that emigration is a desolate precarious expedient; whereas, colonisation, on an enlightened system, takes out to a new country a whole body of people – an organised society who begin with the comforts, refinements, means of knowledge, and enjoyment for which old countries have had to struggle upwards. Whole families, whole circles of friends, may go together, and the whole society, throwing off at once our accumulated difficulties, heavy taxation, and monopolised land, begin their new world with our advantages, without our disadvantages: they may at once have machinery, literature,

1841.

See on this subject the article on Colonisation in the "Westminster Review," for January

art, science, the memories and possessions of an old world, with the hopes and powers of a new field of exertion.

Not only would this new society thus prosper, but the mother-country would, by an extensive system of colonisation from her shores, be renovated. It is now diseased. Like a patient in fever it must lose some of its blood, or like a crowded plantation where the trees are perishing for want of airsickly, deformed, and running up to weak bare poles—it must be thinned. True it is that all our land is not peopled- we have commons, and wastes, and forests, and extensive deer-parks, and it is no wonder that our people exclaim, Why must we leave our own land to wander thousands of miles over the ocean when there is room and to spare? It can only be said in answer-Our institutions want renovating-our land is appropriated-we are suffering the consequences of years upon years of reckless extravagance of iniquitous and ruinous war. The voices of true patriots, the prophetic words of true poets, were then raised in vain. It was in those years that Coleridge sent forth his warning:

"We, this whole people, have been clamorous
For war and bloodshed; animating sports,
The which we pay for as a thing to talk of,
Spectators and not combatants! No guess
Anticipative of a wrong unfelt,

No speculation on contingency,
However dim and vague, too vague and dim
To yield a justifying cause; and forth
(Stuffed out with big preamble, holy names,
And adjurations of the God in Heaven)
We send our mandates for the certain death
Of thousands and ten thousands! Boys, and girls,
And women, that would groan to see a child
Pull off an insect's leg, all read of war,

The best amusement for our morning meal!
The poor wretch who has learnt his only prayers
From curses, who knows scarcely words enough
To ask a blessing from his Heavenly Father,
Becomes a fluent phraseman, absolute,
And technical in victories and deceit,
And all our dainty terms for fratricide;

Terms which we trundle smoothly o'er our tongues
Like mere abstractions, empty sounds to which
We join no feeling, and attach no form!

As if the soldier died without a wound;

As if the fibres of this god-like frame
Were gored without a pang; as if the wretch
Who fell in battle, doing bloody deeds,

Pass'd off to Heaven translated and not killed,
As though he had no wife to pine for him,
No God to judge him! Therefore evil days
Are coming on us: O, my countrymen!
And what if all-avenging Providence,
Strong and retributive, should make us know
The meaning of our words, force us to feel
The desolation and the agony

Of our fierce doings?"

It is very true that the people did not "make" the wars, - this was the deed of their rulers and lawgivers; but no one can deny that the majority of the people carried them on "nothing loth," or with very great pride, spirit, and satisfaction. But now, when of our " fierce doings," and of our "glory," we feel the consequences, we are struggling through disasters and countless difficulties. The ills which surround us we can none of us wish to seek to dissipate by a convulsion, in the process of which there are evils

done, and suffered, and accumulated, which, if not more disastrous than those they come to cure, at least entail prolonged miseries, and throw back the work of human improvement in many respects. We want a real reformation, not a disruption. But our suffering people have not the energy to set about the work. Toil and physical wants occupy their whole time and attention; they are worn, hungry, and naked-they want room to grow in, and then they will have a voice and will be heard.

There is no error greater than that which makes the people disdain minor measures of relief, and causes their leaders to recommend them to strive for the highest point of principle, and refuse to accept any boon lest they should rest satisfied with that first acquisition and seek no more. Every right obtained, every abuse overcome, puts the people on higher ground, and gives them energy, hope, and power to do more. We have heard some disparage the Factory Act, because it is only a palliative. Only a palliative it may be, like all other measures of partial good, but does it not every year prevent an enormous mass of suffering? Will it not contribute to enable vast numbers of the growing generation to become something like vigorous men and women, with some elements of education, instead of the over-worked, ignorant, decrepid objects, whose childhood had been spent in sixteen hours of bodily labour out of the twenty-four; and will not the next generation be thence more able to struggle onward towards the point at which they will have a voice in the disposal of the wealth they have themselves created? So it is with colonisation. It is not the means, but it is one of the means to arrive at a better and higher condition of things.

We have said that colonisation, to be successful, must be pursued on an enlightened plan, and there has been sufficient experience of the evils which should be most especially avoided. These are many. If land is given away, or sold too cheap, then no labour can be found; every man becomes a landholder; there are large appropriated deserts with no man to work them. If, on the other hand, land is made too dear, the settler who has not capital naturally resorts to what is called "squatting;" he goes away from the appropriated country into the desert, and lives on the land he can cultivate. Dispersion and consequent barbarism are the results. It must be clear to the obtusest intellect that, to colonise successfully, all the proper attributes of society must be transplanted into the new soil. The whole body politic ought to be removed, and not a limb. A judicious assortment of farmers, labourers, carpenters, masons, &c. cannot fail to establish a thriving colony, if the situation be even tolerably eligible; while, on the other hand, the finest advantages in the world must be thrown away, if a due attention be not paid to the assortment of the colonists. A notice was issued on the 12th of October, 1839, from the government emigration office, containing certain regulations and conditions under which a bounty is allowed by the government on the introduction of useful labourers into the colony of Western Australia. It was Edward Gibbon Wakefield who had the merit of first enunciating the true principles of colonisation.

"That all unoccupied lands in the colonies being property of the Crown, no person shall be allowed to obtain waste land therein except by purchase of the Crown, in certain considerable quantities, and at a uniform price per acre, fixed sufficiently high to keep a continued supply of combinable labour in each colony, proportioned to the available capital invested therein.

"That the funds raised by the sale of lands in any colony shall be employed in conveying thither labourers from the United Kingdom who desire to emigrate, free from all expense to them: preference being given to young adult persons, especially if recently married; and care being taken to preserve equality of numbers of both sexes."

South Australia was colonised as lately as the year 1836. On the wide