The group extends about 800 miles in length from north to south; but the breadth is comparatively small, and very varying, owing to deeply-indented shores. This is specially characteristic of the northern island, which has a width amounting at the most to 200 miles, but diminishing to less than five miles. The coastline probably exceeds 3,000 miles, marked with many large and well-protected harbours. Situated near the antipodes, everything in nature is, of course, as to times and seasons, discordant to what it is with us, while various phenomena occur under reverse circumstances. Midnight reigns there at our noonday. June is midwinter, January midsummer. The compass-needle points to the south. The north is the warmest, and the south the coldest point. The luminosity, which we designate, from its general position in the heavens, the aurora borealis, occurs there as the aurora australis. The surface rises in grand mountains, some of which are capped with perpetual snow, forests clothing their slopes, and innumerable rills pouring down their declivities, forming considerable streams in the great valleys. Mount Edgecombe, the highest point, on the eastern shore of the northern island, attains the height of 9,630 feet; but Mount Egmont, on the western coast, is the most beautiful and imposing mass,a volcanic cone, quite extinct, rising 8,840 feet, or about 1,600 feet above the snow line, in complete isolation from a perfectly level plain, a thick belt of woods adorning its base. There are evidences of the islands having been the scenes of extensive combustion in ancient times, while the present intensity of subterranean heat is proclaimed by warm lakes, ponds, and springs in a state of ebullition, and the mountain of Tongariri, with other active volcanic vents. Shocks of earthquakes, occasionally very sensible, are frequent in certain districts, and have excited great alarm among the European colonists; but it does not appear that the natives themselves have any tradition of formidable catastrophes of the kind having occurred. The climate is universally spoken of in terms of no common eulogy, as remarkably salubrious and agreeable, more equable than our own and more mild, the winters being warmer, while cool and refreshing sea-breezes prevent oppressive heat and sultriness in the summer months. The soil, though variable in quality, is in many parts extremely rich, densely clothed in its natural state with a wild indigenous vegetation of valuable timber-trees, ornamental and dye-woods,

majestic ferns, and the native flax (Phormium tenax), remarkable for the strength of its fibre. European grain of all kinds, fruits, and vegetables, grow luxuriantly on the cleared surface; and admirable pastures for cattle are produced by the sowing of the English grasses. There are no predatory animals, or venomous reptiles, and no indigenous quadrupeds; but all the introduced domesticated races thrive well.3 Coal has been found in various districts, and used in steamers with success; while minerals of other descriptions appear to be abundant. The aborigines, a vigorous race of Malayo-Polynesians, are supposed not to exceed 110,000, and are principally found in the northern island. Great efforts have been made to establish amicable relations with them on the part of the British colonists; and not without success have missionaries, of various Christian denominations, laboured to extend to them the blessings of civilization and true religion. The colonists may probably number 20,000, in course of steady annual augmentation from emigrants. They are mostly persons of the middle and even higher ranks of life, who, attracted by the climate and natural fertility of the islands, with their adaptation for all purposes of maritime and commercial enterprise, have sold their home estates, chartered ships, and gone out in companies, with suitable preparation, to lay the foundation of a prosperous nation in the Southern Seas. To those who may desire to leave their native land, and who are healthy, temperate, industrious, and persevering, there is perhaps no part of the earth offering greater advantages as a land of settlement. Individuals of different habits may possibly succeed, but have no right to anticipate success, whether at home or abroad.-MILNER'S Universal Geography.'

ONE of the most special appointments of the Creator as to birds, and which nothing but His chosen design and corresponding ordainment can explain, is the law that so many kinds shall migrate from one country to another, and most commonly at vast

distances from each other. They might have been all framed to breed, be born, live and die in the same region, as occur to some, and as quadrupeds and insects do. But He has chosen to make them travel from one climate to another with unerring precision, from an irresistible instinct, with a wonderful courage, with an untiring mobility, and in a right and never-failing direction. For this purpose they cross oceans without fear, and with a persevering exertion that makes our most exhausting labours a comparative ainusement. Philosophy in vain endeavours to account for the extraordinary phenomenon. It cannot discover any adequate physical reason. Warmer temperatures are not essentially necessary to incubation, nor always the object of the emigration; for the snow-bunting, though a bird of song, goes into the frozen region to breed and nurture its young. The snow-bird has the same taste or constitution for the chilling weather which the majority recedes from. We can only resolve all these astonishing journeys into the appointment of the Creator, who has assigned to every bird the habits as well as the fort, which it was His good pleasure to imagine and to attach to it. The watchful naturalist may hear, if not see, several migrations of those which frequent2 our island, both to and fro," as spring advances and as autumn declines; but as they take place chiefly at night or at early dawn, and in the higher regions of the atmosphere, they are much oftener audible than visible to us on the surface of the earth.-FIELD'S 'Scrap Book.'

TILL lately the country gentlemen of England knew nothing of their estates save the rent which they yielded, and the animals that were hunted as vermin or as game; and the consequence was that they did not want the people, except as administrators to the furnishing of food, clothing, and the trappings of state. The result has been that ever since the breaking up of

the feudal system, by which baron and vassal were linked together in war, there has been an estrangement of the different ranks of society from each other a state of things which has every day become more and more unwholesome, and for which, much as has been said and written on the subject, there is no political cure. One can easily see that such must have been the result. The different ranks had no relation to each other but that of bargain and sale; and consequently they rated each other at a money price, and nothing more. But the feelings of the human heart cannot be made chattels, and they have consequently lain dormant.

The study of nature will, however, bring the different ranks together again, and unite them by a bond far more secure than anything feudal. The owner of an estate will enjoy it all, not merely levy and spend the rent, but claim kindred with, and derive pleasure from, the plants and the animals. Without the love and the knowledge of nature he can be said to inhabit only the mansion house, and that but for a portion of the year; but with these he will inhabit the whole domain, however ample; and instead of his importance being rated by the thousands that he can spend in the year, it will be rated by the fields, the forests, the groves, and the waters, which lie around him, as a lovely and an ever-open book; and he and his family will find delight there, and they will cleave to their country and their countrymen with heart and soul, and their countrymen will cleave to them, and the whole nation will be linked together by that "cord of nature," which God has made; and sustained by that, all the charities and all the gratitude of heart will be excited; and peasant and peer, while they preserve the ranks which civilization assigns them, will be brothers in nature, and each will vie with the other in striving who shall do the first good office.

This is not the doting dream of a lover of nature, but a plain and philosophic truth. In the city, people of different ranks stand scowling and apart; but when they go to hunt, to fish, or to any other sport or occupation in the field, they are fellows. Nature thus makes brotherhood; and if all mankind would study nature, all mankind would be brethren.

This is a truth which often forced itself upon me while sickening with disgust in the turmoil of politics; and, now that I have 'scaped, I recommend it to the attention of my fellowcountrymen.----MUDIE.

SINCE man is made to acquire the full possession and mastery of his faculties by toil, and by the exercise of all his energies, no climate could so well minister to his progress in this work as the climate of the temperate continents.

Excessive heat enfeebles man; it invites to repose and inaction. In the tropical regions the power of life in nature is carried to its highest degree; thus, with the tropical man, the life of the body overmasters that of the soul; the physical instincts of our nature eclipse those of the higher faculties; passion predominates over intellect and reason; the passive faculties over the active faculties. A nature too rich, too prodigal of her gifts, does not compel man to wrest from her his daily bread by his daily toil. A regular climate, and the absence of a dormant season, render forethought of little use to him. Nothing invites him to that struggle of intelligence against nature which raises the powers of man to their highest pitch. Thus, he never dreams of resisting physical nature; he is conquered by her; he submits to the yoke, and becomes again the animal man, in proportion as he abandons himself to external influences, forgetful of his high moral destination.

The

In the temperate climates all is activity and movement. alternations of heat and cold, the changes of the seasons, a fresher and more bracing air, incite man to a constant struggle, to forethought, and to the vigorous employment of all his faculties. A more economical nature yields nothing, except to the sweat of his brow; every gift on her part is a recompence for effort on his. Nature here, even while challenging man to the conflict, gives him the hope of victory; and if she does not show herself prodigal, she grants to his active and intelligent labour more than his necessities require; while she calls out his energy, she thus gives him ease and leisure, which permit him to cultivate all the lofty faculties of his higher nature. Here, physical nature is not a tyrant, but a useful helper; the active faculties, the understanding, and the reason rule over the instincts and the passive faculties; the soul over the body; man over nature.

In the frozen regions, man also contends with nature, but it is with a niggardly and severe nature; it is a desperate struggle