But, my dear Jeremy, I had no intention of wandering from my purpose, of giving you a reminding hint of “Copper Mining.” as a sort of sedative to the gold “placers.” Some of Jonathan’s younger sons were then severely bitten, and were so thoroughly inoculated with the virus, as to have rather a sharpened recollection of metals. The most of _them_, I should think, would be safe from this _later_ disease, even in its most violent and contagious forms. Yet there is something very attractive, and most dangerously seductive, in delving for minerals, counting each shovelfull as so many guineas coined, and already in your pocket. There is no enthusiast more dangerous than your professional miner. The gentle madness is so infectious that his example may turn the heads of a whole district. Yet _his_ bite is not half so venomous as that of another species—a kind of ground-shark—who affects the same sort of insanity, and while digging below ground, puts his “placer” on the “Stock List.” It is astonishing, too, that we will be caught once in a while in this way, while there are people all around us, _anxious friends_, who exclaim, “I knew it!” but who never hinted a word about the matter. Did it ever strike you that we live in a very sagacious and knowing world—the mind of each man being simply the reflection of that of another? Our brightest fancies are but the suggestions of other people’s brains—our good fortune in life is always known beforehand—our reverses have always been most indubitably predicted by parties, who confirm their sagacity with a consolatory—“I told you so.” We are, after all, then, but the mere creatures of the impulses of other people—our destiny it is to work out their predictions. The iron energy, the indomitable perseverance, sleepless vigilance, untiring industry—have all been weighed beforehand—duly appreciated and predicted. There is no such thing as surprising any body. It is all perfectly understood. W—, by a keen sagacity in detecting, and ready tact in managing a new business, has struck the tide that bears to fortune. But _he_ has made no discovery. Forty other men, with scarcely brains to comprehend, much less originate an idea, knew all about it. _They told you so!_ W— goes on, originates new combinations of trade, enlarges business ideas, and still succeeds. But _Toldyeso_ knew it, and was indifferent. SHARP has his eye upon W—. “AH!” says he “there is a man who has a soul above buttons—a _genius_ for business. Every thing _he_ touches turns to gold.” But W—, with his multitude of irons in the fire, incautiously takes hold of the hot end of one of them, and is maimed. “BAH!” says Sharp, “I knew how it would be! He was always _rushing_ business up against the stream. Bound to fail—_I told you so_!” And yet nobody ever knew Sharp to originate, or succeed in, any thing—but _he knows_—and that must be some consolation to a ninny.