gully, furnished with seats and arbours and artificial accessories. Conjoined to the Domain are the gardens of the Acclimatization Society, which are beautiful and interesting on account of their botanical and zoological contents.

Rising at some distance behind the Domain, we catch a glimpse of Mount Hobson, upon whose sides nestles the suburb of the same name. To the right of it lies the Great South Road, whereon is the village of Newmarket, and beyond it again the scattered suburb of Epsom, and that gem of lovely hamlets, Remuera.

Our eyes, slowly travelling round to take in all these points, are now turned directly away from the harbour. Before us stretches a long road named Symonds Street, leading past the Supreme Court—a brick and stone building of considerable architectural pretension—past the wide cemetery, and allowing beyond a sight of the hospital in the valley below, on till the large suburb of Newton—hardly disconnected at all from the city proper—is reached.

In this direction is situated Government House, a large mansion of wood, standing in park-like grounds, where the English oak, the American maple, the Australian blue-gum, the semi-tropical palm, and the New Zealand kauri mingle their foliage together. Some distance further, and to the left of the road, rises Mount Eden. On one side of it is the gaol, a group of buildings surrounded by a wall and palisades, and situated in a scoria quarry. Among the spurs and declivities of the mount are many villas of the wealthier citizens, standing in well laid-out grounds, and making a very pleasing picture.

We now look right across the densest part of the city, from our first standpoint near St. Matthew's Church. Below is Queen Street, with the roofs of the various buildings already noticed in it. Beyond it there is a corresponding high ground to that on which we are, and behind that again is Freeman's Bay. On the crest of the eminence is St. Paul's "cathedral"—so styled; the principal Anglican church of the city. In the distance the breezy suburb of Ponsonby is pointed out to us, occupying high ground, from which is visible the winding valley of the Waitemata, stretching away up into the hills. Here and there can be seen the spires or belfries of numerous churches and chapels, for Auckland is an eminently religious city, and has temples and tabernacles for almost every Christian creed.

Our companion dilates upon the institutions of the city, which are highly creditable to so young a community, and are in advance of those of many European towns of equal population, that can trace back their history considerably further than Auckland's thirty-and-odd years. In matters ecclesiastical and educational the young city is indeed well endowed. There are two bishops, Roman and Anglican, a Presbytery, and governing bodies of other denominations. There is a College and Grammar School of the New Zealand University, common schools in the city, private schools of all sorts and sects, a training school and ship at Kohimarama, an establishment for young clergymen, and convent schools. There are asylums, orphanages, and refuges.

There are institutes and halls belonging to all kinds of societies: Young Men's Christian Association, Mechanics, Good Templars, Freemasons, Orangemen, Oddfellows, Foresters, etc. There is the Auckland Institute and Museum, the Acclimatization Society, Agricultural Society, Benevolent Societies, etc. There are Cricketing, Rowing, and Yachting Clubs. There is a mayor and City Council, with Harbour Board, Highway Board, Domain Board, and Improvement Commissions. There is the Supreme Court, the District Court, the Resident Magistrate's Court, and the Police Court. There are public and circulating libraries, two daily morning newspapers, an evening newspaper, two weekly newspapers, two weekly journals of fiction, and two monthly religious periodicals.

The city is lighted by gas supplied by a private company; and the water-supply is under municipal control. It returns three members to the House of Representatives, while Parnell and Newton each return one. So much and more does our cicerone favour us with, until he has, as he thinks, convinced us that Auckland is really the finest place of residence in the world.

We now pass down into the city again, taking a new route past the Northern Club, a lofty and unsightly building, whose members are notoriously hospitable, and much given to whist and euchre. Downhill a short distance, and we come to the Albert Barracks, where newly-arrived immigrants are housed, and where most of our sometime shipmates now are. They are comfortably quartered here for the present, but no incitement is held out to them to remain long, and every inducement is given them to get an engagement and quit as soon as may be. It seldom happens that there is any difficulty in this; usually, indeed, there is a rush to engage the new-comers, so much are servants and labourers, mechanics and artizans in request.

There have been times when would-be employers would go off in shore-boats to the immigrant ship in the harbour, and though not allowed on board, would make efforts to hire domestics and labourers at the side of the vessel. Again, when the government immigrants were landed, and were marched up from the wharf to the barracks, a mob of employers would escort the procession, endeavouring to hire helps, and with such success that sometimes the barracks were hardly needed at all. But such scenes are becoming rarer now, though there must continue, for many years to come, to be a run upon certain classes of immigrants, notably single girls for house-servants.[2]

Turning into the barrack-yard, round which are the various buildings where the immigrants are temporarily housed, we find an animated scene before us. Here are assembled most of our immigrant shipmates, some few of whom have already got engagements and gone off. A considerable party of settlers and agents are now busily at work trying to hire the people they severally want; while the poor bewildered immigrants find themselves treated as though they were goods in an auction-room, and scarcely know whether they are standing on their heads or their heels.

It so happens that there is just now a great demand for agricultural and domestics, so that settlers are actually bidding against each other for the individuals they want to engage. Our ship-load was no special body of people, but a motley collection of men, women, and children from all parts of the old country. Among them are natives of Kent and of Cornwall, of Yorkshire and of Wales, of Inverness and of Galway.

Here are a couple of brothers whom we made special friends with on the voyage, young hardy Scots; let us see how they get on. We find them at a premium, surrounded by a little crowd of farmers from the Waikato, who each and all seem intent on hiring them. The lads do not wish to part if they can help it; and so, as to get one means to get both, the farmers are all the hotter in their pursuit of them. For these young men are just the right sort that are most wanted, having the thews and sinews and power of endurance so necessary for a rough life; having experience of sheep and cattle and agricultural work from their earliest infancy; having, in fact, all the qualities most essential and useful to the pioneer farmer. They come of the right race, too, as all the world knows—colonists especially—for honesty, sobriety, and patient industry.

What a change for them—from the inclement sky, the hostile winter, the