and a rough country-girl to do the coarse work of the house. The
ladies of the family must, of course, perform all the rest: wash all
the fine linen, iron, make the beds, sweep the rooms, superintend and
assist in the cooking, the dairy, care of the poultry and the pigs;
for, of course, such appendages must be indispensable in such an
establishment. The gentlemen will work on the farm, cultivate the
garden, and gain all the experience they can in manual trades,
carpentering and cabinet-making; and thus by degrees the whole family
will have their bodies and minds strengthened, and their habits formed
for their new work; or they will discover, as many have done when too
late to draw back, that the effort is beyond their powers--that the
tastes and habits of social life are too closely entwined with their
whole being, to leave them the power to withdraw from them at will.

This may seem a forbidding picture, but I can assure them it is very
far superior in comfort to the realities they will find in the bush.
It is true, that this retirement will effectually withdraw them from
their magic circle of friends and luxuries; but let us for a moment
compare the two steps, migration and emigration, and ask ourselves if
the experiment above mentioned be not worth the trial. In the one, we
give up, probably for life, our country, our friends, and generally a
part of our family, with all the comforts of a state of law and
civilisation; we enter upon a certain and constant life of labour,
after a long, tedious voyage; and, if in mature age, bear about with
us a never-ceasing yearning for home, which retains its place in our
hearts with all the heightened colours with which memory invests it.
In the other, we must, it is true, separate ourselves from our long
list of acquaintances, and be absent from the dinner-party and the
ball; but all our interest in social life will be kept up: we can see
at least a weekly newspaper; and although we may have descended a few