of members of the Free Church of Scotland; and in 1850, the first colonists were sent out to the church of England settlement, founded in the vicinity of Banks's Peninsula, by the Canterbury Association. The site made choice of possessed a harbour of its own, an immense extent of land, which it was supposed might easily be brought under cultivation, and removed from danger of disturbance from the natives, of whom there were but few, an extent of grazing country unequalled in New Zealand, and a territory "every way available for being formed into a province, with a separate legislature." The plan was to sell the land at an additional price, and appropriate one third of the cost to ecclesiastical purposes. The sums thus realized by sales of land, were to be placed at the disposal of an ecclesiastical committee, who were empowered to make such arrangements as they might think fit to organize an endowed church in the colony. A bishopric was to be at once endowed, a college, if not a cathedral, was to be connected with it, a grammar-school of the highest class, was to be opened as well as commercial schools; and all the luxuries of English country life, including good roads, snug villas, well cultivated farms; and good society, were to be found by the future settler, after a very few years of probationary toil. The scheme was warmly taken up at home, and within a single twelvemonth from the 16th December, 1850, when the first detachment arrived, nearly three thousand emigrants had seated themselves in the Canterbury Plains. The towns of Lyttelton and Christchurch were founded, and operations on a large scale were fairly begun. Of course bitter disappointment followed, as it too often does with the early colonists, whose expectations are unduly raised by the romantic stories told them in England. But we must quote a passage from "Archdeacon Paul's Letters from Canterbury," just published. It may be of use to other emigrants, into whatever region of the world they go. "Restless spirits, who had never yet been contented anywhere, expected to find tranquillity in this new Arcadia, where their chief occupation would be to recline under the shadow of some overhanging rock, soothing their fleecy charge with the shepherd's pipe, remote from fogs and taxation and all the thousand nameless evils which had made their lives a burthen to them at home. "Alas! the reality was soon found to be of a sterner type-- 'These are not scenes for pastoral dance at even, For moonlight rovings in the fragrant glades: Soft slumbers in the open eye of heaven, And all the listless joys of summer shades.'