1
'WE OO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POtNT THE WAY ; WKEK THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASK TO FOLLOW."
... !
BY JOHN G. GIVEN
E BENS BURG, THURSDAY, APRIL 25, 1850.
VOL. C. NO. 29.
L ill 1 1 i 1
l ' pi r
mi iri
i
XVX'X S C E Is Zt A N E O U S
LYDIA LlTTLlS-LOVERS'
i: . Or, The Rivals in a -Fix."
BY PAUL CLAYTON'.
-One of the prettiest lasses ihat ever grac
ed a country dance, or turned the head of
aover, wis Lydia Little, ihe subject; of the
following sketch.
Nobody could - deny it; she was very
pretty. Even her rivals allowed that she
was "quite ' fascinating, and her bitterest
enemies declared that after all she was a
beauty'
Although Lvdia was really hanchome,
it was a very unfortunate circumstance that
she was conscious of the fact. It is no
. l n wT.rrttr rr!rl i f hp HllPKn't
luiutv ij il i'"-1' fi,,,
know it; but Lydia had quite as perfect a
knowledge of her charms as even her war
mest admirers,' and the consequence was,
she became one of the most vain, shrewd,
and heartless coquettes that ever made a
bon-fire of true hearts in order to laugh at
the flame.
Lydia had ardent admirers, far and
near, for her beauty was famous in all the
villages within twenty miles of the town
in which Iter father, a rich old farmer, resided.-
Although tLydia smiled on all, there
were only two who were known to pos
sess very great importance in her eyes, and
who seemed to cast all other lovers in the
hade.
One of these young men was named
White and the other Brown. These, it
wag said, were Lydia's favorite colors,
and it only remained for her to choose be
tween them. Indeed it was a matter of
KUCUUIC III III? MUUgfcl ""
Kpupi td hwcnme a little white Ot a little
browm
Messrs White and Brown botli lived at
a distance from he their mistress, but
White had the advantage over las rial, for
he lived the nearest. These two young
gentlemen had Jieard of each other, al
though they had not the pleasure of per
sonal acquaintance. White was afraid of
Brown, and Brown was afraid of White, so
that Lydia out of pure kindness, was very
careful that they should never meet at her
house.
If the rivals feared each other, they fear
ed Lydia's father still more, lie had tried
to put a stop to her innocent flirtations, and
had repeatedly threatened to shoot her sui
tors if they didn't keep aloof. Besides
that his rame was Little, and he was a
little man; but little as he was, he was a
little fierce and the beaux weie not a little
afraid ofhis resentment.
One day when Lydia's father was gone
from home and was not expected back un
til late at night, she determined to send
for one of hersuiiors to come and keep her
company during the evening. But which
should she choose? Here was a dilemma,
indeed- She reflected that Brown was
with her last, and feeling that it would be
unjust not to allow White to come in his
turn, she resolved that White should be the
man. So she dropped a -line to White,
and had everything prepared for his recep.
tiou in the evening.
Lydia felt so confident that her dear
White would fly to meet her, that she
would have been willing to stake her life
that he would be there at the appointed
hour. White was very punctual, and she
fell that he loved her too well to allow
anything whatever to interfere with the in
terview. However, as the time passed, and he did
not arrive at the mnment, she began to
change her mind, and to wonder how she
ever permitted White to occupy her heart
with such a noble fellow as Brown.
"Brown wouldn't have failed he would
not, I know "
Such thoughts were running in her
mind, when there was a - rap at the door.
her resentment, flew to admit him. V hat
was her surprise on finding that it was not
White but Brown.
'Don't be surprised," panted the deligh
ted lover, "I shouldn't have dared to come
'fraid of the old man but 1 saw him
middle of the afternoon he told me
(I'm so out of breath I cannot hardly
speak) he wasn't coming home till mid
night." "So you took an opportunity of visiting
me during his absence, eh!"
Lydia' smiled on him at first,, but then
she looked thougtful and finally appeared
quite : perplexed. She was considering
what a Fix she would be in if White should
be coming along about that time.
"You musn'i stop," said she nervous
ly. Father will be home I expect
him every minute and if he should rind
YOU-."'..;.." .j --.'.)
.-lAPshaw! there's no danger,' said Brown.
'He wont be home yet awhile. (And if he
comes. I can slip into the kitchen and get
out at the back door.'
Finding she could not send her lover
away, Lydia resolved to make the most of
him while he staid.
Oh,' said Brown, 'I've a rich joke to
tell you- ';
Do let me hear it.'
As I was coming this way. to-night who
do vou think 1 met?'
Who"
'Your particular friend -Mr. Wrhite.'
My particular friend!' sneered pretty
Lvaia.
Yes but nevermind that I aint afraid
of him '
'But how did you know him?'
'Oh, I had caught a glimpse of him be
fore. But he didn't know me, and that's
the cream of the joke.'
flow so?'
Whv, vou see wc fell in with each oth
er, and as he was coming this way, we got 1
to talking about the folks in these diggins; door, and proceeded around the house.
Says I, 'old squire Little lives somewhere j A moment after, Lvdia and her dear,
here, don't he?' 'Yes,' says he, grinning White, who were h iving a fine time of it
for the moon shone, and I could see him heard Vc sound of footsteps approaching
grin 'do you know his daughter?' 'I've ' towards the door.
heard of her,' said I; 'she's pretty they Ii's lather!' cried Lydia, believing the
say.' Well, she isn't any thing else' says old gentleman had really come You
White; and he looked at me just as if he ! mustn't be seen, White.. Him in there
was pulling the wool over my eyes com- ! and gel out of the holism as soon as possi
p'.eiely. 'She has plen'y of beaux, I hear' ; bit'!'
says I. 'Yes, says he, laughing, 'there's She pushed White into the kitchen,
a fellow by the name of brown trying to !
come in there. 1 suppose 'you know.'-
Oh yes says I, !ui he can 1!
1 looked very c!cs?lv at him, and saw
he didn't mistrust that 1 was Brown, and arms around his neck when, to her as
could hardly keep from laughing right out. ! tonishmant, who should appear but
He can't come in says I. 'There's a j Brown. ,
fellow by the name of White that's going
f W hite that's going !
'Ye,' says he, j
etty good chance, i j
to cut lnm out I hear
. 1 T t I
' nue stands a pre
know White.' 'Do you though!' says 1.
'Can't vou mtroduce.mes. mi? tune.' In re-
tn n, I 1 do you the h.vo.- t introduce you
to mown, whom lain intimately acquain-
d of (
nate ,
tei- j
a fellow, although' he may be unfortei
in love affairs. He's a good uaturcd
1 1 1
low; anu 1 presume 11 lie were in my place )
'I talked widi the fellotv in this way for '
some time.'and -.kept my, countenance so
well that he II he surprised, i reckon, when j
he learns 1 m lirowu uimsejt.." asn t 11 ;
a rich joke, Lydia?' -.
Ah, very, replied the girl, laughing
heartily. But what noise is" that?'
0, it is father!' exclaimed Lydia, not a
little flustered .-..Quick quick you must
be gone-" '
'Brown did not wait for ceremony, brt
dodged into the kitchen in hot haste. He
would have hastened from the house in
an instant, but he heard a voice which
sounded so strangely that he had a curios
ity to know if it was indeed Mr. Little that
had just come. . .
lie crept soltly back to the door by
which he had made his exit, dropped on
U 1 I ... I 1 .1 1. .... 1. . 1
ma Miecs aim uj.inieu ins ear 10 ine uey-
hole. "
At that moment he heard a noise that
sounded so much like a hearty kiss that it
made his heart come no into his nmnth ns
largo as a pumpkin.
l " - - - ' .....
Ilelooked and O, the faithlessness and
fickleness of woman! there was Lvdia,
blushing and smiling in the arms of his
rival of his new acquaintance W hite.
acquaintance v hite.
now. anu you were u lute lumsell, lie d lirown, giv ing Lydia an extra hug, tor the i contains such an explanation of
I eiiiniip in L n iixtlt ttnii' tli-t n it rr; I 1 I - -x -v K . . " '!,:- 1.., ! i 1 t
jw.v. imwu.., ii"""-' ," " c it -jo L.iiriii. ui uii.:, who no tixiuci- i vx'ivs as vou win reauiiy understand, we
you. 'That't just the way with White, ; ed was at the key-hole. '1 began to think j hereby bid yon an affectionate adieu, hop
says he. -lie wouldn t quarrel with you the old man hadn't come alter all; so I j ing you may have better success in vein'
it yon were brown. " - came back to bid vou good bye more de- nitemnts on others.
Brown's first impulse was to break this savage resolution into effect, when an
through the door and eat up his rival, but ; unusual bustle in the parlor caused him
he soon thought better of it, and determin- ; to delay. He heard Lydia whisper 'fa
ed to give him a few minutes reprive be- ther is coming,' he heard the partin"- kiss,
fore he demolished him entirely. the front door openino- and the next mo-
1 here, stop, cried Ldia. 'loushaa I'-
kiss me again to night
Why not?Vsked While.
Because you didn't come to see me at
the time I appointed. It's all of twenty
minutes later. That's why.'
You don't imagine what a good excuse
I've got, said White laughing.
What is it?'
I met a chap who bothered me.'
That was me,' thought Brown still
looking through the k'ev-hole. 4I did
bother him, and bluffed him off nicely
too. I wish I had wrung his neck for
him.
You can't guess who it was, Lydia,'
said White, laughing.
Do you know?'
To be sure I do though he didn't
mistrust I knew him. It was my redoubt
able rival, Mr. Brown.'
The plague!' muttered the listener bi
ting his lips in perplexity. .
Hid you see that fellow?' said Lydia.
O, I wish you knew how much fun l'vd
had with him! Why, the great fool flat
ters. himself that I am ninny enough to
love him.. -
Highly complimentary,' tho't Blown,
grinding his teeth and looking harmless
daggers through the key-hole.
You'd been amused, to have heard rac
talk with him, and lay on the soft solder.
I got the wool over Ins eyes nicely. He
did not know me, and I chatted with him
about you, and myself and k nu and it
went down like a pill taken in apple
sauce.' '
Lydia laughed . heartily to think how
the rivals had fooled each other, each be
lieving all the time, that the game was all
on hi9 own side, and White laughed too
at the thought of having played such a
game on Brown. "
Biown was the only one that did not
laugh. The thought of having been made
such a fool of, didn't, by any mean3, in
spire him into a merry mood.
I can't stand this,' thought he, scowl
ing at the key-hole. 4I must have my
turn now. White may take my place
here in the d.irti if lie likes, and 1 will
step into the sitting room.'
lie sink; cautiously out to the back
and. hastened to the front door.
Having made up her mouth to give her
dear father a sweet kiss as soon as he
.entered, she stood teady to throw her
1 need scarcely inform the reader that !
Wbi'e impelled hy the same laudible cu-j
riosity which led Brown to make the dis- !
covery we have seen already, had his eye
at the key hole. j
Yl hat! you again!' said Lvdia, bestow-
nig -upon lirowu tuc kiss she had reserved
for her venerable parent, 'flow glad I
am you cauu back. But it is rash in
you
r 1 . - . . .
'J.ovo makes the heart bold, saic
liberalely.'
. . 'Ah! you are a good fellow,' said Lydi?
'but 1 can t let you stop now. 1 really
expect fathe
expect lather home every minute.
vt ell, I'll go pretty soon, but I must
finish telling you how I bluffed off your
dear friend White '
.My dear friend!' echoed Lydia, con
temptuously ! wish you to know how I -!
detest thai fellow
I thought so; and for that reason when
I had the talk with him on the road, as 1
was telling you, out of consideration for :
r . your leciings, 1 determined lie snouldn t
- visa you to-nigiit. so i to. lowed nun
:i 1 " .i:.i... .1 ... r..i
uum nt- uiuu i uare 10 come any luruier,
for fear I would mistrust he was coming
to see you. Didn'i 1 bluff him off, and
1 wouldn t I laugh to see him enter now?'
I . 1111 . r- 7 , t 1 .
v nai a lool l nave been making oi
t myself,' thought White, glaring through
, the key-hole. 'Brown is the man Lydia
loves afierail; and instead of fooling him
' pnmtilptf I I tli.n.rlii I ,.ja .f,,i,-..r
. .l.uk.l.t i 1 . ) 4V j
when we met, he was ail the time nlaving
off a contemptible trick on me! I ll rush
J in and demolish him, and tell that laugh-
j ing saucy jade just what 1 think of her.'
t White was on the point of can - vino -
tvnuc was on the point of carrvi no-
meut Brown was thrust unceremoniously
ni.o uie Kiicnen, wuere he, himself was
concealed.
if the reader imagines that the rivals,
on being shut up i:i the dark room togeth
er, flew at r-ach other like two wild beasts,
I would beg to inform him that he is very
much in errror. The rivals did nothing
of the sort, as we shall see.
Brown hoard a light footstep, and knew
White was in the room.
'My dear fellow,' he whispejed.
What the deuce do you want?' growled
the irritated v hite.
'What a rich joke! ha! ha!' laughed
Brown. 'Lydia thinks she has beeuua
king fools of us, but 1 believe wc both
understand her now perfectly.'
Little doubt about that,' said White,
bitterly.
'There is no use in feeling sorry about
tne matter, observed the philosophical
Brown. 'Our acquaintance has com
menced under peculiar circumstances, and
I think it is our duty to cultivate it. 1
overheard your conversation with Lvdia.
looking through. the key-hole, and as' you
witnessed my interview with her just
now; we are even on that score!' (Jive
me your hand and let us be sworn friends
in future.'
'I am proud to make your acquaint
ance,' said White, feeling much consoled
by his rival's philosophic harangue. We
are quits are far as the joke is concerned;
and as for that girl that heartless co
quette 'We needn't quarrel about her, observ
ed Brown, 'for she is not worth a thought.
I wonder a man of your penetration never
saw what she was before.'
"If so shrewd a man as you were de
cei'ed," replied White, "what would be .
x ected ot met Unt we both know her j
bet-er now. and we can whistle her eff s
witiout a pang.
"What a sensible fellow you are!" ex
claimed Brown, "and what a pity it is 1
never made your acquaintance before."
The rivals shook hands, and became
swem fiieiids on the spot.
Hi aring Lydia's father talking very
loud t her in the pari r. they thought it l
a good time to mak-? their esrape, and '
elide I out of the In use unheard by either
the old crerr.lemen or daughter On the j
following day, as Lydia was laughing J
heartily a, her adventure on the prece- j
ding night, a small neatly folJed billet
was brought her by the postman. .
"It's Brown's hand-writing." she sai I j
to herself, as she broke open the letter
w ta a smile ot sattslied vanity. . "Lt s
see what he says.
She reads as follows:
'To Ol'r Duau Lydia:
As yon are now, in all probabili
ty, laboring under the erroneou.- mipres-
sion that vm have played a rn st admira-
ble trick tiff on us, we have formed
selves into a jo'nt co.-nmiiiee of two, in ;
j oler to devise means to set your 'mind at
rest n the subject. The truth is, dear s
Lydia. we the undersigned, understand j
ourselves and each other rerfeetlv and n
see thr. uh your entire course of conduct
better than you imagine. However, we
have formed the wise resolution to allow '
you to renin our natural colors through
ji fc, U-for- we so far forget ourselves in
ihis rep.-cl as t think cf indue ng you to
I became either If kite or Jlroicn.
Trusting that this ofiir ial document
our
Timothy Biown,
Oliver White.
'P- S. Not official. Messrs, Brown
Signed
and Whiu beg leave mildly to suggest 10 in a few rhymes and sonnets to make its
tht-ir dear Lydia that in future, when she j species a litter happier. Hospitals it is
is in want of victims, she will stand a bet- ! unable to erect, or subscriptions to give;
ter chance of meeting with success, if, silver and gold it has none; but in the ori
instead of attempting such sterling colors ; sons of its genius it never fails to remem
as fTiite and Brown, she should try j ber the cause of the poor; and if it cannot
something more jiearly approaching ; any more than the kindred spirit of Bums,
Green." j make for its country 'some useful plan or
Lydia read this important document book,' it can 'sing a song at least.' Hood's
twice before she fully understood its nn -
po:t; then in a fit of vexation a id nue, she
threw it on the Coir and stamped upon it
i - - i r- 1 1
; v. itii her pretty tittle luet.
I When the first burst of i-no- hrul nnss -
j ed sin reflected that she was no more
than iustlv punished for her foolish heart-
' . :! - '
less flirtations.
The event proved a salutary lessor to
the pretty Lydia, for from that time alio
ga ve over practising anything like coquet
ry, and became a very sensible sort cf a
I irl
t A year after, Lvdia married a reject
j able youiv farmer, and sent to her o!
! friends. Bown and VVh,te,"a polite at,
! nnmn- ii.vffntion ntip.,.1 1 1 ........ t '. ....
Id
pressing invitation to attend the wedding,
BYIIO.W
His dominion over the darker passions and earnest discussion, bursts of political
is one of the most obvious features in his ! feeling and raptures of poetical descrip
poetic character. lie rode in a chariot ; li.ui; ' here a sarcasm almost worthy of
drawn, if we may use the figure, by those j Voltaire, and there a passage of pensive
horses described in the visions of the ; grandeur, which Kosseau might have
Apocalypse, 'whose heads were as the ; written in his tears. To keep up this
heads of lions, and out of their mouths ! perpetual play of varied excellence, re
issued fire, smoke, and brimstone.' And quires at once'grcat igor and great ver
supreme in his management of these j satility of tr.Ients for Bulwer never walks
dreadful coursers. Wherever human na- j through his part, never proses, is never
tore is fiercest and gloomiest wherever . tame, and seldom indeed substitutes sound
furnace-bosems have been heated seven for sense, or mere flummery for force and
times hotter by the unrestrained passions fire. He generally writes his best, and
and the torrid suns of the east and the ' one great fault, indeed with him is, that
south wherever man verges toward the J lie is too uniformly creel in stirrups, too
animal or the fiend wherever miun- j conscious of himself, of his exquisite
thropes have folded their arms, and taken! management, of his complete equipment,
their desperate attitude wherever stands ! of the sneed with which he devours the
the bed of sin, delirious with its dread'
wherever devours 'the worm that can-
not sleep, and never dies' there the mel-
aneholy muse ot Byron finds its subjects
and its haunts. Driven from a home in
his country, he seeks in the mansions of
all unhappy hearts, which open gloomily,
and admit him as their tenant and their
bard.
To' escape from one's" self is the desire
of many, of all the miserable the desire
of the urunkard, of the opium eater, of
those who plunge into the vortex of any
dissipation, who indulge in any delicious
dream; but it is the singularity of Byron
that he uniformly escapes from himself
into something worse and more miserable.
His being transmigrates into a darker and
more demoniac shape; he becomes an
epicure even in wretchedness; . he has
supped full of common miseries, and must
create and exhaust imaginary horrors.
SUCACLIY.
Daforo- proooo ding to ooniJar Vile tapar-
ate claims upon public admiration, we
will sum up in a few sentences, our im-
pressions of his general character. He is
giltej, but not a great man. He is a rhet-
oncian, without betn? an orator. He is
endowed with great powers of perception
and acquisition, but with no power of ori
gination. He has deep sympathies with
genius, without possessing genius cf a
high order himself. lie is strong and
broad, but not subtle or profound. lie is
not more destitute of original genius than
he is of hirh principle and purpose. He
lias all common faculties developed in a
lare measure, and cultivated to an intense
degree. What ho wants is the gift that
cannot be given the power that cannot
be counterfeited the wind that bloweih
where it listeth- the vision, the joy, and
the sorrow with which no stranger inter-
meddleth 'the light which never was on
sea or shore, the consecration and ih
poct's dream.' To such gifts, indeed, he
does not pretend, and never has pretend
ed. To roll the raptures of poetry, with
out emulating its speciosa mirctcitla to
write wordiily of heroes, without aspiring
to the heroic to write history without
enacting it to furnish to the utmost "de
our-'gree his own mind, without leading the
minds of others one point farther than to
the admiration of himself and ofhis idols.
eems, after ail. to have been the main ob
ject of his ambition, and lias already been
nearly satished. He has played the finite
game of talent, and not the incite
of genius. His goal has been the lop
the mountain, and not the blue nrofoi
me
lop of
nr:!tniino
beyond; and on the point lie has sought
j he may speedily be seen, relieved against
1 the heights which he "cannot reach a
marble fixture, exalted and motionless.
THOMAS HOOD.
But the best of all hi Hood is that
warm humanity which beats in all his
writings. His is no ostentatious cr sys
tematic philanthropy; it is a mild, cheer
ful, irrepressible feeling, as tender and in
nocent as the embrace of a child. It can
not found soup-kitchens; it can onlv slide
j poetry is often a pleading for those who
; cannot plead for themselves, or who plead
only like the bejar, who, reproached for
. foD . : . 1 . ...
, his silence, showed Ins sores, and replied,
! I!t't it hT.T;!lfT I , u-iti. - Kmn'roil
tongues:
Tliis advocacy of his has not
been utterly thrown away; it has been
heard ua earth and it has been heard in
heaven.
Bl'LVj'EK.
If in Buiwcr's writings we weary less
than in othets, it is owiig to the artistic
skill with which he intermingles his points
of humor with those of sententious refiee-
d : tion or vivid narrative. All is point, but
j the point perpetually varies 'from gay to
grave. Irom lively to severe;' including in
! it raillery and reasoning, light dialogue
dust: and seldom exhibits the careless
grandeur of one who is riding at the pace
j of the w hirlwind, with perfect sc-lf-oblivi-
pei
on, and with perfect security.
A man who had a scoMing wife, being
willing to excuse her faili ngs, whei;
called upm to givj sains accou.it of
her habits and character, faid she was
pretty well ir. general, cnly subject at
times to a breaking cut of the jnoulh.
Many men lose much by beinjr too
communicative in their matters of busi
ness. The great laconic-'philosopher,
Shirike, says: Keep shady and if you
sec a quarter n the ground put yo.ir iVv..
on it.'
An Interesting Scene
Signi?iz of the Constitution cf: Cali
fornia. The following scene is described
by Bayard Taylor; The signing. cf iho
new Constitution whose protecting aegis
covers so mighty an empire cn the Paci
fic, wm an occasion of the moat impres
sive interest. The land of i gold almost
seems like the land cf magic, in the ra
pidity of changes in the brief lapse of two
months. Two years ago, how little was
California thought of now it is the prom
ised land of die world. Its Constitution,
fortunately, too, is worthy of its raighty
destiny, and California is clearly destiqed
to exercise not less influence on Asia, than
the Atlantic States of onr Union have on
Europe.
The members proceeded to affix their
nstnes to the completed Constitution. At
this moment a signal was given '.ho
American colors ran up the fisj staff tn
front of the government buildings, stream
ing out on the air. A second afterwards
the first gun boomed from the fort, aud its
stirring echoes came back from one hill
after another, till they were lost in the dis
tance. All the native enlhusiarra gf Capt. Sut
ter's Swiss blood wns aroused he waa
the soldier again. He f rang from hia
seat, and waving his hand around h;3
head, as if swipgitig a sword, exclaimed:
"Gentlemen, this is the happiest day cf
my life. It makc3 me g!?.d to her those
cannon; this is a great day for California!"
Then recollecting himself he sat down,
the tears streaming frcm his oyer. Tbe
members with one accord, ave three tu
multuous cheers, which wtrc heard frcm
one end of the town to the Cher. As tha
signing went on, gun followed gun from
tne fort, the echoes reverberating gradual
ly around the Bay, till finally, as the loud
ring of the thirty-first wns heard, there
was a shout "That's for California'.' and
every one joined in giving three times
three for the new and glorious star added
to cur Confederation.
Labor end Capital
The question begins
to t j a?I;eJ ct
every hand, and in every quarter, why
should capitalists reap all the benefits of
labor and revel in luxury while the pre
ducers are actually sufici ing from want?
Sooner or later this problem must to
solved, and then woe to the tyrannical
oppressors who have fattened by traffick
ing on the labor of their fellow-men. At
present capital and later regard each
other with jealous looks. Tbe proprie
tor of the for.ner characterizes the ether
as belonging to a dmg?rous, discontend,
anJ tuibulent class that must be put down;
while, on the other hand, the work:r.g
man justly regards with a disiatishVi
mind the product of his own toil swelling
the revt nues ofy t isk-:;:aster, whoscsree
ly grants the originators of wealth suffi
cient f r the decencies and necessaries cf
l.fe. Yes, this state of things must be
speedily altered, or what wouid now bo
considered a cciiccssi n, will, arc long. Le.
converted into compuls on. Social reforms
are daily becoming the most presiirtg of
all reforms. Labor is the only Igkunatj
capita! any people can have. All wealth
must ever coma of labor. It is in sooth,
the only capital upon which society can
calculate for its prosperity and endu
rance. It is alone the. capital that must
ever remain supreme and independent.
Who possesses this only solid and legiti
mate capital? The ch IJren of toil tho
husbandman, the mechanic, artisan and
workingman. Are they to b; crushed to
the earth by povcty and misery, whilu
they have iron in their blood and thews
atid muscles to create wealth and assert
the maj sty and glory of their Divine ori
gin? .'2n'ireio"s Life in jVci'j York.
Wealih cl California.
Hon- Thomas Butler King's official re
port ofhis mission at California, unavoid
ably delayed hy Mr. King's indisposition,
has now been communicated to the Pres
ident, though not yet made public. It is,
we learn a highly interesting and impor
tant document. Mr. King estimates the
value of the gold obtained in California,
up to this time, at forty millions of dol
lar?. Ths product of the current year he
alto estimates at forty millions; and the
:ggroaie of t'u two sliccodmg years,
'51 and 'oti, at one hundred millions,
II j reeomrno.vds :o tho United .State.
GcvtriimtM i;-.;t losdl the gold lands, but
to grant leases or permits, for digging and
washing gold on them, at a rent of one
ounce fbr eerv pound obtained. II c pro-oosl-s
that leases for regulating mining
operations b granted at.a fixed contingent
rent. He advises that no permits or lea
ses be issued to any but citizens of the
United States, or persons who declare
their purpose of becoming U. S. citizens.
yoittig girl cf fifteen has been r.r-
"Ct'.C'.l
B't-tor.fvr picking r.r'rtt.?..
ir