its observance implied, contrasted most strangely with what they, in their evil imaginations, had expected and hoped to find. Seeking only a country without law, where they could lead lives of indolence and licentiousness, and do the works of the flesh without restraint, they found themselves among a most exacting people, and subject to laws compared with which, in their view, a state-prison discipline appeared altogether lovely. I shall long remember poor Bill, the Englishman, who, stating his grievances, and warming up with the subject, said: "Why, sir, the people are good enough in their way. I've got nothing agin the people. But you see, sir, it's the law that I don't like. The law, that they pretend to take from the Bible, and that the missionary says is the same as in my country. Now, sir, it's true as how I 'ave n't read the Bible a great deal, but I never found no such laws as theirn in what little I 'ave read. And then, when I tell 'em there's no such laws in my country, in spite of what the missionary says, they just say, 'Fine him ag'in for disputin' the missionary'; and when I say there's no law for that in the Bible, they up and say, ''Ave 'im up ag'in for sayin' it's not in the Bible.' But it's plain their Bible can't be like ourn, for, as you well know, sir, there are four-and-twenty letters in our alphabet, while there are no more than twelve in theirn, and I should just like to know how a language of twenty-four letters can be turned into one of twelve. So it stands to reason that the Bibles can't be all the same." The following day we were to leave. The two men begged to be taken away, and landed on some other island. We told them our next point of destination was an uninhabited island known as Suwarrow's (or Souvoroff's), some hundreds of miles distant. Bill declared that he knew the island of old, and would rather be left there than remain where he was. The American seconded him in this, and we finally consented to take them and two women, who, they declared, were their wives, under condi

tion that they should disembark at Suwarrow's Island. This, they said, was what they most desired; for there they would have an island to themselves, would make their own laws, and raise a colony after their own heart. Immediately they prepared to go, but were at once met by objections on the part of the "Council," who held that the men should work out their sentence on the road before taking their departure. This, however, was finally compromised, and the party came aboard the vessel. As soon as we had said good by to our friends ashore, and completed all other arrangements, we got under way; but just as the sails were filling, and the vessel beginning to move, a cry was heard alongside, and directly a woman was discovered clinging to a rope's end that hung over the gangway. As she not only begged to be taken on board, but refused to return ashore, she was hoisted in. Probably her coming had been previously arranged; but the men, fearing a refusal, had not ventured to ask transportation for a spare wife. So we set out with five colonists. In a few days we reached the designated island. We found it similar in character to the coral islands already described, but much greater in extent, the lagoon being hardly less than twenty miles in diameter. Leading into this lagoon we found a fine channel, through which we sailed, and came to anchor in the waters of the lake. A day or two were spent in examination, during which the colonists were busy in spying out the land with reference to their future happiness. Bill declared himself disappointed. Instead of finding cocoanuttrees in abundance, he had only counted fifty. He had looked for fresh water in vain; and as the time for our departure drew near, he began to realize that the pleasure of being his own lawgiver would be attended by some sacrifices. Unwilling to leave the party there against their wish, especially as the island is very rarely visited by vessels, we finally gave them the alternative of returning whence we had

brought them. This decided the matter. Both men declared that, rather than return, they would struggle for existence where they were. Cocoanuts might be scarce, but fish and crabs would abound; and they would at least have their own way, and be happy. So they began at once to build their house. The men cut the wood, and put up a rough frame, while the women gathered branches and prepared the thatch; and before we left they were about ready to go to housekeeping. We gave them a cask of water, one or two barrels of bread, some tools, fish-lines, and hooks, and some other articles very desirable under their circumstances. They professed themselves contented, and well pleased with their prospects, and promised faithfully to preserve our names in their posterity. So we bade them good by, and on the following morning, at sunrise, we hoisted our sails to the breeze and sailed out of the lagoon, while the five colonists stood on the beach, waving hats and hands, and a little red, white, and blue flag, which Bill had somehow managed to conceal or to recover from the never-to-be-forgotten "Council." I have never since heard of them. For aught that I know they are still there. If so, I trust that they get on without the world as well as the world does without them.

The voyage of which the foregoing is a partial account was made in 1860. There is a melancholy item of the subsequent history of the islands referred to which must be added. In 1863 a number of slaving-vessels were fitted out at Callao, in Peru, to cruise among the islands of the Pacific in quest of coolies, or, more properly, slaves, for the Peruvian market. The very islands

herein described, and many like them, were visited, and their defenceless inhabitants kidnapped. From Manihiki many were taken; and from Oatafu, it is said, every able-bodied man and woman and the larger children were seized and hurried off, leaving only the aged and helpless behind. There is an additional interest given to the account of this deplorable affair, by the fact that the island of Oatafu had, but a short time before, become the scene of very successful missionary labors. Christian teachers had been sent there in 1861, and the entire population had become converts. They had learned to read and write, and the church and school were in a flourishing condition. The same is true of many of the other islands depopulated by the man-stealers.

The recital of the operations of these slavers, who, in order to secure the natives on board the vessels, used force where strategy failed, in some cases driving them at the point of the bayonet, firing upon and killing many in order to terrify and capture the rest,- of the fearful suffering of all the captives, and the death of many on the voyage, and, finally, of their miserable condition in Peru, is truly distressing. The French government, on learning the facts, promptly called the Peruvian government to account for depredations committed on islands under French protection. Unfortunately the islands that suffered most are unprotected by any nation. An indignation meeting was held in Sydney, and a memorial addressed to the British government, praying for intervention in the matter; but I have never learned what measures, if any, were adopted by that government to seek redress for this diabolical outrage upon humanity.

Irish

self-respect, by insuring them employment at fair wages, is a problem that taxes the wits of economists and philanthropists. Private charity assists many over the hard places till they can plant their feet firmly once more, and have the certainty of bread for the day. But when trouble comes in financial circles, thousands of these poor people are thrown out of employment, and, having no bread for the day, are glad of the city's supply of soup. It is no new song of sorrow that we hear, of more seamstresses than shirts, more teachers than pupils, of starvation in atties, or its alternative, infamy in the streets. The intelligence-offices are crowded with applicants for all kinds of labor, and day after day the pressure contin

ues.

This is in Boston, the capital of the State of Massachusetts. Three miles from Boston it is next to impossible to find a woman to do plain needle-work; and in the country, a hundred miles from Boston, everybody does his or her own drudgery, for the simple reason that nobody can be hired to do it. There is plenty of material out of place, and a great scarcity when and where you want it.

It would seem, at first, that the supply would seek the demand. In ordinary cases this would occur without effort or special care, and laborers would be dispersed in such directions as would be most desirable. But the poor in our cities have now become so great in number as to require more assistance than they have ever yet had, to enable them to work out the highest prosperity for themselves and the State. A large proportion of these people are Irish immigrants of a class too ignorant to plan for themselves. Swedes and Germans generally proceed at once to the West, and found or join commu

They seek at once the persons they have previously known in Ireland, and through them endeavor to obtain employment, either in factories or on railroads.

Indeed, it can hardly be expected that men with families will voluntarily start off for the distant parts of the country, uncertain of their destination, and unable to do anything but dig. They leave Ireland with understandings almost as limited as their accomplishments, and they need guidance and assistance, as a general rule, from the time they come to this country.

In addition to the Irish element of our population, large numbers of native women and their children crowd in attics and cellars, living from day to day on the smallest means that will sustain life. The man who keeps the slop-shop gives these women only six cents for making a shirt, not because he is a hardhearted wretch, but because plenty of women in the country will make shirts for six cents, in their leisure hours. It is a waste of breath to urge any of these seamstresses or their daughters to seek employment in the only avenue not already crowded, namely, domestic service. From false, but not the less inveterate, notions of respectability, they decline acting in what they consider a servile capacity. To starve is disagreeable, but to answer bells is dishonorable, and what no free-born American woman will descend to. They have always hopes of an improvement in their fate; they repel the insult of public aid; they feign cheerfulness and assurance to conceal the wasting fear for the morrow; and when the morrow brings death, they leave their children with an inheritance of the same courage, endurance, and false pride which has sustained themselves. It is not easy to see how such persons can be permanently helped, except by the indi

rect influence of change of place. The circumstances and modes of living in remote country towns often offer pleasant and acceptable openings for industry, without wounding the sensitiveness and pride already spoken of. Many of these American families have hidden themselves in city garrets, rather than face a change from abundance to poverty among those who knew them in prosperity. An entire change of position is often the salvation of families of this description; and any one familiar with the characteristics of this portion of our people can understand how difficult it is for any permanent benefit to be secured to them without this entire change. The strength and the weakness are both useful under new circumstances.

These two classes- the ignorant but industrious emigrant, and the poor, proud American-should be cared for by an association so organized as constantly to command the opportunities they need to better their condition. The work is in different parts of the State. The men and women to do the work, packed close in the attics and cellars of the city, wait for the employment which is not to be had where they

are.

It may be said that the State has no right to interfere with the liberty of individuals, by directing their motions, and removing them from place to place. But has not the State the right to protect itself against pauperism, and its consequence, heavy taxation? As things now are, the honest and industrious poor strain every nerve, and live on scanty fare, in order to pay their proportion of a tax to support the idle and profligate in houses of correction or in prisons. Whenever the unemployed poor who are crowded in cities come to utter want the State must take up the burden of their support. Has not the State a right to organize guardianship as well as punishment, prevention as well as cure?

Not to look at the moral or sentimental side of the subject, but only at what good policy requires, it would

seem the duty of the State to organize some method of permanent relief for the unemployed portion of its population. The means of relief exist. The right to employ them only is wanting.

A hundred miles from the city, and at a distance from any railway, are many towns where agriculture is carried on with great difficulty, from the impossibility of procuring labor of the commonest sort. In some towns, one man only is skilled in gardening; and when "Mr. Peck" is not to be had, each gentleman must dig his own strawberrybed, as his wife has already found it necessary to do her own scrubbing. Persons in easy circumstances, who are ready to pay high wages for service, cannot command it. These facts are so familiar to every one, that it is not necessary to repeat them, or to add that the same remarks apply to towns only twenty miles away from large cities, if they are off the great railroad lines, and necessarily at a distance from a Catholic church.

Seeing this state of things, private charity has attempted relief on a small scale, and generally, it must be confessed, with poor success. A family removed from destitution in the city to a country village proves, sometimes, a worthless addition to a small community quick to observe shortcomings, and not over-eager to make allowances for faults. Sometimes the people are unwilling to take the risk of having possible paupers thrust upon them; and the more thrifty and able the community, the greater is the dread of poor hangers-on. Many obvious objections to schemes of private charity would disappear under organized and systematic public management. Much experience, however, would be necessary in order to bring about the greatest good to the parties to be benefited; for it is not too much to say, that the benefit would be as great to the employer as to the employed.

Within three miles of Vanity Fair lives a basket-maker and his wife, with ten children. Of course, they are half

starved, and are clothed mostly by charity. Yet when urged to go to Beulah, where were willows enough, room enough, food enough, and probably quite as good a market for baskets, the basket-maker declined to fly to evils that he knew not of; while the inhabitants of Beulah declined, quite as decidedly, the possibilities of pauperism involved in the proposition. No guaranties could be offered on either side. But guaranties would be offered and secured in a public organization; while wise mediation and energetic management, on the part of officers experienced in dealing with the poor, would obviate the difficulties inevitably connected with private schemes of relief. If the basket-maker, who half lives on charity where he is, had his fare paid to Beulah, forty miles off, and if somebody was there ready to receive him, to guarantee his good behavior and his rent, the inhabitants would welcome to their delectable land twelve additions to their working community; while he and his family, being at last in their proper place, would cease to be a burden, and begin to feel that there is some blessedness in living.

Franklin says: "It has been computed that, if every man and woman would work four hours a day in something useful, that labor would produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries and comforts of life. Want and misery would be banished from the world, and the rest of the twenty-four hours would be leisure and pleasure."

Two things hinder a state of universal contentment, it is said, one, that labor is not equally shared by all; the other, that the labor of all is not equally rewarded. It is not supposed that any philanthropic or economic schemes will bring about a universal competence. While vice, idleness, and improvidence continue, it is not likely Utopia will come into fashion; but the State can defend itself, and promote the health and happiness of its citizens, by wise authority and effort in their behalf. can place its redundant poor where they can at least have the chance of

It

working their four hours a day; and where they can supply a want which, of itself, retards the prosperity and progress of a large portion of the community. The impossibility of procuring labor to carry on the farm in New England exists, not because the laborers are not in the State, but because they are lounging in city streets, waiting for those better times that will give them a sewer to dig, or coal to heave, or else famishing in attics, their hearts sick with hope deferred.

Let there be an "Emigrant Agency," to which unemployed persons may go,

not to be sent to Illinois or Kansas, or any far-off place, but to some point on lines radiating from a capital city, and within the State. Let there be officers employed at each extremity of these radiating lines, and at all other points where occupation is secured for the applicants, to receive the families, or the individuals, who want work, and to see that they are housed and employed. Let the emigrants begin to feel at once that the eye of the State is upon them; that they are members of a self-respecting community, and are expected to grow up both useful and ornamental.

If it be objected, that such a plan is too vast, that it requires large means, and a multitude of officers, it may be answered, that the means required would not be equal to those annually employed in the present administration of private and public beneficence in the Northern States. As now made, our great outlay scantily, unequally, and, above all, unseasonably, meets the pressing wants described. The mischief is nearly done before any relief is applied. Destitution has already taken the form of vice, and has offended public opinion and public safety before public charity offers succor. A little care beforehand, and the policestation and house of reformation would not have been needed.

The organization of the Children's Mission presents many features desirable to be copied in any association on a large scale. This Mission is intended