New Zealand papers seems to have the merit of being in accordance with common sense. The Sydney plan is something as follows:—Here is a young fellow yearning for an opening in the outer world. His parents are quite willing to give him a little money to start him. They cannot give him much; but what little they can scrape together is precious. It is the hard-earned savings of much self-denial and laborious years, The youth under our Sydney system arrives in a strange country after a voyage, during which he has little kindly supervision, and may be exposed to many sadly adverse influences. He is cast out on his own resources, with less thought bestowed on him, than on the bales of merchandise that travelled out with him in the hold of the ship. He soon finds out the value of his letters of introduction. If he apply to a labour agency—a perfectly irresponsible medium, be it remembered—not even licensed by the State, or supervised in any official way, he may, after considerable expense, succeed in finding employment. He may? Yes! But he may not—most often does not—till his little hoard has vanished, and he is no longer in a position to refuse any offer. Then begins the life in the new world, round which was centred so many roseate hopes and anticipations. The best material in the world would feel cast down, and the lad does not really get the best chance. How many get wearied and disheartened before the battle is well begun? How many sink in the fight, and are lost after all the brave hopes and worthy resolves? But suppose now that on his
