A SOURCE OF WEALTH.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 323, 1 January 1863, Page 6

A SOURCE OF WEALTH.

' 'A...SOURCE

(Fromtlie Wellington Independent.),. The Britain of the South, as the||jolony of • New Zealand lias been called, has long stood high in the estimation of those in the overcrowded countries of Europe, who, pressed by 'increasing competition and the excess of 1 labour, over the means for its employmeri\, 'turn a wislful eye to those lands beyond th« -sea, where smiling plenty follows as the reward of patient industry, and where daily bread', and an ultimate competence are more easily procured. .It is not strange that this colony should present many attractions to such a class. With an immense territory of fertile land watered by magnificent rivers, whose soil will bring forth in lavish abundance, not only the cereals and fruits of temperate climes; but the more luscious productions of the south; and with the ocean that washes our shores, presenting an almost illimitable source of wealth in its whale fisheries; surely with all those rich gi(t-=, but awaiting development from the lianU of man, Naiure has blessed tiiis country with every physicial advantage. The future progress of the colony depends upon the development of those resources, and ii lias long been an existing opinion,' amongst many ol' our colonists, that nothing would prove a more profitable undertaking ihau the establishment of Whale' Fisheries here by means of local capital, and with small vessels fitted out and starting from this port. Jf it pays the Americans to semi vessels out from Boston, and New York, to the Pacific, making a four months' passage out, and one at least as long homewards, with all the expenses ot wages, loss of time, and consequent loss of interest on the capital embarked; surely it would prove equally remunerative to our en- ' terprising merchants, who are clo-e on.the field of-enterprise, if they could hit upon some mode of gathering in the harvest, and transporting it to the . English market. Something has already been done in that-way, at least sufficient to prove the feasibility of the plan, as in 1842, or thereabouts, several vessels, ihc Victoria, the Indemity, and the Middlesex, collected the oil from the various stations on the coast, and conveyed it to England. It is not however, the resumption of such a scheme that we now suggest, hut one somewhat different in details, bniali vessels of a build and size such as the Lombard and the Trader might be purchased, manned, and equipped here. Almost everything necessary mi be procured on the spot, the boats could he built by local shipwrights; and scattered throughout the colony, there is a host of hardy whalers, equal in experience, skill, and courage to any men that can be found elsewhere. Thus the means are all ready to our hand, and once out of this harbor, the vessels would be at once on the ground of operations, and no time would be, lost or risk incurred. The average s.a^ons during which they would be out would be comparatively short, and the oil thus procured could be stored heie and shipped as part of our exports in the woolships going home.

There is, however, one consideration relative to this trade, which should not be forgotten; namely, its uncertainty, which makes it repulsive to individual entei prise. The owner of a single ship embarking in it might incur a serious loss, by making what is termed a clean voyage, that is l)y falling into a track from which the fish have been disturbed, and coming home with the ■ deck of his ship unstained by the blubber of a single whale. Such things have occurred ere now, but taking an average of the success of several vessels, the result is generally very satisfactory, and if the same i individual had more than one vessel engaged in the trade, the gains of one would make up for the losses cf another. In short, a number of ships would require to be employed, so as mutually to ensuie each other, and this clearly shows, particularly in the case of a young colony, that the most feasible plan would be the formation of a confederation of capitalists, who would share the risks and divide the profits of the adventure. Such an agency would assume the form of a company, and as rt has already been shown, that other enterprises adopted by the men aud the capital of the colony, have proved eminently remunerative, it bodes well for the success of a scheme such as is now suggested. There is yet, however, another view to be taken of the matter. Everything which can be added to our productive resources, not only benefits those more immediately interested, hut likewise adds to the material wealth ol the colony, and by ■ augmenting its revenue, through a thousand channels, diffuses good to the whole community. • Thus the man of business with a. keen eye for a liberal dividend as a shareholder, while reaping a direct pecuniary benefit, is, it' may be unconsciously at tlie same time acting the part of the philanthropist, and conferring untold advantages on future generations. We have not yet entered into the financial aspects of this question, but will do so on a future. occasion. Meantime, we have indicated its importance to our commercial men, and trust they will give it their consideration. The importance of the Southern Fisheries as a source.of. wealth has long been recognised, arid nearly ninety years ago that great states- ■- nian and orator, Kdmund Burke, in his speech on American affairs in 1774, alluded to the rich harvest that could be gathered from it, and foresaw that we were allowing our American brethren1 to occspy the fkld. His remarks are so.distinguished by eloquence arid truth, that -we conclude our subject for the present by quoting them. • "As to the wealth which the Colonists have drawn from'the sea by their fisheries, j-ou had all that matter fully opened at your bar. You surely though): those acquisitions of value, for they "seemed to excite your envy; and yet the spirit by which that enterprising employment has been exercised ought rather in my opinion to have raised esteem and admiration. And pray, sir, what in the world is equal to it ? Pass by the other parts, and' loolc'at the man- ' ncr in which the New England people carry on the Whale Fishery. While we follow them among the trembling mountains of ice, ' and behold them penetrating in the deepest frozen recesses.of Hudson's and Davis' Straits; while we are looking for than- beneath the. Arctic Circle, we hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar cold; that they are at the Antipodes, and engaged under the ; frozen serpent of the South. Falkland Island i which seemed too renrote and too romantic an object for the grasp' of national ambition, is is but a sta c and resting-place io:r their victorious industry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more discouraging to them than the accumui lated winter of both poles. We learn that j. while some of them draw the line, or strike |-the harpoon, on the coast'of Africa, others run the longtitude, and pursue their gigantic game along the coast of 15razil. No sea but what is vexed with their Fisheries. No climate that is not witness of their toils. Neither the perseverance of Holland, nor the • activity' of France, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy industry to the extent to which it has been pursued by this people; a people who are still in the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone oi manhood."

A MORMON CARAVAN. (FISOM JOHN BREST. BY THKODOKK WIXTIIROP.) By tin's time the head wagons of Elder Sizzmn's train had crept down upon the level wnr us. .For the length of a long mile behind, ti>e twpentine line held its way. On the yellow rim ot the world, with sofiennl outlines against the linzy horizon, the rear wagons werq siill climbing up into view. The caravan lay like v slowly wiithin« hydra, over the land. Along its snaky1 bends, where dragon-whips should be, wee herds ot cattli- plodding beside tho " traihng-iooted tennis, and little companies of Saints lounging lcisim-ly towards their evening's goal, their unbuilt hostelry on tlie plain. I'ieswitly the liydia 'became a iwo-heatlcd monster. Tho foremost 'wii-oh bent totlie light, the second led off to the kf" Each successor, as it euine to the point of (iivei-enee, fi.'ed to (he right or left alternately. 'Ihc si 11 creature expanded itself. The two wWs moved on over a broad grassy level, north of\ the fort, describing in a. regular curve a great ■ ellipse, a third of a mile long, halt us \ much across. On either flank the march was timed and ordered with, the' precision of practice. This same nianWvie had liecn upeated every day ot tbc long journey. Precisely us the foremost teams met at the upper end of the curve the two hindmost were parting at the lower. The ellipse whs comi.kie. It'locked ittelf top and bottom, ibe train came to a halt. Every wagon of the two hundred, stopped close upon the hi-els ot its Hie leader. VA tall man, half pioneer, half deacon, in dress and. mien, galloped up and jiown the ring. This was'Sizzuin, so the by-stunders inlormed us. At a signal from him, the oxen, iwo and three yoke to a wagon, wuie unjoked. herded, and driven off to wash the dust from their prott si ant nostrils, and graze over the russet prairio. Ihoy huddled aloiig, a great army,"a' thousand strong. Their brown flanks grew ruddy with the lo»v sunshine. A cloud of golden dust rose and hung over them. The air was loud with their lowing. Relieved from their drays, the herd fritked away with unwieldy gambolling. We turned to the camp, that imiirovised city in tho wilderness. . . No sooner had this nomad town settled itself quietly lor the night), than a town-mt'eting collected. in the ■ open bf the amphitheatre. " Now, brethren," gays'Chamberlaiii to us, "ef you want to hear exhortin\ as runs without stoppin,' step up and listen to\ the Apostle of the Gentiles, l-'eihaps," and here Jake winked perceptibly, '• you'll be teehi'd.'niid want to jinc, and perhaps you won.'t, Ef you're docyle you'll be Itched, ef you're- bulls of BiWliam you won't be tcched." '•How did you hiippen to be converted yourself, JuUe ?" Brent asktVl. " You've never told me." •' Why, you tee I was naturally of a religious uaterj'aiid I've tried 'cm all, but I never fell foul of a religion that had real proved miracles, till I sued a mail, born dunib, wlmt was cured by the Prophet Joseph looking down his throat and talhii' his palate to speak.up—and it did spt-ukup, did thut thtrc palate, ami went oil talkin most on common. It's oubeknown tongues it talks, I suthiu like gibbtridgu ; tut Joseph'said tlmt was i how the tongues sounded in the Apossels' time | to them as hadn't got the'iuteiTuption of tongues. | I struck my ling to that .there miracle. IM seen 'em gettin' iip the sham kiijd, when I was to the Italian convent, and I knoVed the fourth proof a 1 tide. I may talk rough $i bout this business,! biit brother' Brent knows I'm honest about ic."_ Jake le.i us forward, and stationed us in posts of honor before the crowd of'auditors. Picsenlly . Sizzum appealed. He had taken time to come to tone down tbe pioneer and develop.: the deacon in his style, and a very sleek personage he had , made ot himself. He was clean shaved; clean j shaving is a, favourite coxcomb'tery of the deacon i clasp. His long black hair, growing rank from a ] muddy skin, was sleakly puc behind his eais. A | large white blossom of cravat expanded under his j nude, beefy chin, and he wore a black dress coat, | creased with its leccnt packing-. Except that his pantaloons were thrust into boots with tlie makers . name (Abel Cushing, Lynn, Mass.) stamped in ! gold on a scarlet morocco shield in front, lie was i in correct go-to-meetin' costume—a Chad band of tlie plains. He took his stand, and. began , to futmiue over the assemblage. His manner I was coarse and overbearing, with intervals of oily | persuasiveness. He was a big, powerful man, without one atom of delicacy iv him,—a fellow who never could take a flower or :i penile heart inio his hand without crushing it by a brutal instinct. A creature with such an amorphous beak of .a nose, such a heavy-lipped, mouth, and such wilderness of jaw, could never perceive the the fine savour of any delicate thing. Coarse joys were the only joys for such a body; coarse emotions,1 the pleasures of force and domination, the only emotions crude enough for such a soul. His voice was as repulsive as his mien and manner. That badly modelled nose had an im<portant office in his oratyry. Through it he hailed his auditors to open their hearts, as a canal-boatman hails the locks with a canal horn of bassoon calibre. But sometimes, when lie wished to be seductive, his sentences took the channel of liis mouth, and his great lips rolled the words over like fat morsels. Pali ! how the recollection of the fellow disgusts me! And yet he had an unwholesome fascination, which compelled us to listen. I could easily understand how he might overbear feeble minds, and wheedle those who loved flattery. He had some education. Travel had polished his base metal, so that it shone well enough to deceive' the vulgar or the credulous. He did not often allow himself the broad coarseness of his brother preachers in the church. Shall I let him speak for himself? Docs any one wish to hear the inspirations of the last faith humanity has.chosen, for its guide! No. Such travasty of true religion is very sorry comedy, very tragical farce. Vulgar rant and cant, and a muddle of texts and dogmas, are disgusting to hear, and would be weariness to repeat. Sizzum's sermon suited .his mixed'character.' He was Aaron and Joshua,'high-priest and captain combined. He made his discourse bulletin for to-day, general orders for to-morrow. He warned' against the perils of disobedience. He raved of the joys and privileges of Latter-day Saintship on earth ami in heaven. " He heaped vindictive and truculent anathemas upon' Gentiles. He gave bis audience to understand that,he held the keys of the kingdom ;if they yielded 'to him without, question, they were safe in life and eternity ;,if thby murmured, they were cast into outer darkness. It was terrible to see the man's despotism jbver his proselytes. A rumble of Amens frcm.tlje crowd greeted alike every threat and avery promise. Sizzum's discourse lasted half-an-hour. i He dismissed his audience with an Amen, atid an injunction to keep closer to the train on the march to-morrow, and not to be " rabbling off to catch grasshoppers because they, were bigger and and handsomer th:in the Lancashire kind." " And this is one of '.he religions of the nineteenth c nlury, and such a 'man is its spokesman I" said Brent to me,' as the meeting broke up,' and we strolled off alone to' inspect the camp. "It is a shame to all churches that they have not trained men to judge of evidence, and so rendered sueli a delusion impossible." "But Christianity tolerates and even reveres, myths, and mythlic histories; and such toleration and reverence offer premiums on the invention of new mythologies like this." " We, in our churches, teach that phenomena can add authority to truth; we necessarily invite miraclemongers, Joe Smiths, Pio Nonos, to produc miracles to sustain lies." " I suppose," scid Brent, " that superstition must be the handmaid of religion, except in minds very holy, or brave and thorough in study. By and by, when mankind is educated to know that theology is a science, to be investigated and tested like a science, Mori monism and every like juggle will become tor !ovcr impossible." "Certainly; false; religions always pretend to a supernatural origin, and a fresh batch of mysteries. Let Christianity discard its mysteries, and imposto n will have in educated credulity to aui them."' So Brent and I commented'upon the SNzzum heresy and its mouthpiece. We abhorred the system, and weredisgusted with its apostle, as a tempter and a knave, let we could not feel any cloh,e personal interest in the class he deluded. They seemed too ignorant and doltish to need purer spiritual food. Bodily food had been prepared by the women while the men listened to Sizzum's grace before meat. A fragrance of baking bread has pervaded the air. A thousand shoes of fat pork sizzled in two hundred frying-pans, and-water boiled for two hundred coffe or tea pots. Saints Cannot solely live oa sermons. Brent and I walked about to survey tlie camp. We stopped, wherever we found the

emigrants sociable, and chatted with them. They were nil eager tokiiow how mik-li length oft lie joutney remained. "We're com n' to believe, some of us," said an old croi c, with a Aiinkle for every grumble of her life, " tlmtiwe're to be forty .veins in the wilderness, like the: old Jzzerullites. I wouldn't have come, Snimvell, if X'«l known wliat you was bringin' me to." "There's a many of us wouldn't have come, mother," rejoined "Ssimwell," a vowed man of anxious look, "If ! we'd known as much as we do now." SamwclL , glanced sadly at his Cirty, travel-worn children, nt work at mud pies and dust vol-au-vents. His dowdy wife broke off the colloquy by announcing, in a tone that she must have learned from a rattlesnake, that the loaf was baked, the Lacon was fried, and supper' shoudn'6 wait for anybody's talking. All the emigrants were English. Lancashire, jheir neecnt and dialect announced, and Lancashire they told us was their home in the old step-mother countiy. Stermoihcr, indeed, to these her eliilderenl "Xo wonder that they had found life at home intolerable 1 Tlity were the poorest class of townspeople from ;„- the great niunufnctming towns,—penny tradesmen," indoor craftsmen, factory operatives,—a puny, withered set of being?; hardly men, if man means stiength; hardly women, if woman means beauty. Their faces told of long years passed in the foul air af close shops, or work-rooms, or steamy, oily, flocculent mills. All-work at»l no play had been their history. No holidays, no gieen grass, no flowers, no freshness, —nothing but hard, ill-pnid drudgery, with starvation standing over the task and scourging them on. There weie children among them already aged and wrinkled, ancient as the crone, SamwclPs mother, fur any childish gaiety they showed. Poor things! they had been for years their twelve, fourteen, iiml sixteen hours at work in stilling mills, v. hen tlicy shouM have been tumbling in the hay, chasing butterflies, expanded to sunshiny and.opui.air." "We have not seen," said 13runt, "one hearty John Bull, or buxom Betsy Bull, in the whole caravan. 1' " They look as if husks and «nd slops had been their- meat and drink, instead of beef and beer." "Beef and beer belong to fellows that have red in their cheeks and guffaws in their throats,' not to those lean, pale, dreary wretches." " The saints' robes seem as sorry us their persons," said I. "No watchman on the hill-tops of their Sion will hail, 'Who aro these in blight an ay ?' when they heave in sight Il' " They have a right to be way-worn, after their summer of plodding over these dusty wastes." " Here comes a group in gayer trim. See!— actually flounces and parasols !" Several young women of the Blowsahnd order, dressed in very incongruous toggery of stained and faded silks, passed, us. They seemed to be on a • roiiud of evening visits, and sheltered their tanned faces *' against the October sunshine with ancient fiinged ,-r ' parasols. Th"ir costume had a queer eifcet in j the cam]) of a Mormon caravan at Fort Biidgcr. \ They were in good spirits, and went into,■>.?* little panics when they saw Brent in his Indian-' ' rig, and then into "Lor me !" and "Bless us 1" when the supposed Pawnee was discovered to be,' a handsome pale-face. " Perhaps we waste gym-""-, pathy," said Brent, *' on these people." Why' arc they not better oiFhere, and likely,.to be more comfortable in Utah than in the slums of Manchester ? We had by this time^appooaehed the upper end of the ellipse. Sizzum, us quartermaster, had done his duty well Tlie great blue landmarks, each rooted with " its hood of white canvas stretched on hoop's, were in stout, serviceable order, wheels, axles, and bodies. Within these nomad cottages, order or chaos reigned, according to the tenants. Some people, seem only to know the value of rubbish. Tliey - guard old shoes, old hats, cracked mugs, battered tins, as articles of virtu. Some of the waggons were crowded with such cherished trash. Some : had been lightened of such burdens by the wayside, and so were snug anil orderly nestliiigplaces ; but.the rats-nests quite outnumbered the wrens-nests. • '/,