#6. Governor Hotham.#--While matters were in this state, Governor Latrobe retired from office; and in June, 1854, Sir Charles Hotham arrived to fill the position. On his first arrival, he showed that his sympathies were, to a great extent, with the diggers. But he could scarcely be expected to make any important change until he had been a few months in the colony, and had learnt exactly the state of affairs, and, meanwhile, the discontent on the goldfields was daily increasing. The months of September and October, in 1854, were exceedingly dry; the creeks were greatly shrunk in volume, and in many places the diggers could find no water either for drinking or for gold-washing; and their irritation was not at all soothed by the manners of the commissioners and police. Besides this, the Government had thought it necessary to form a camp on the goldfields, so that a large body of soldiers dwelt constantly in the midst of the miners. The soldiers and officers, of course, supported the commissioners, and, like them, soon came to be regarded with the greatest disfavour. The goldfield population was in this irritable state when a trifling incident kindled revolt. #7. Riot at Ballarat.#--A digger named Scobie, late one evening, knocked at the door of Bentley's Hotel, at Ballarat. Finding the place closed for the night, he tried to force an entrance, and continued his clamour so long that Bentley became angry, and sallied forth to chastise him. A crowd gathered to see the fight, and, in the darkness, Scobie's head was split open with a spade. Whose hand it was that aimed the blow no one could tell; but the diggers universally believed that Bentley was himself the murderer. He was therefore arrested and tried, but acquitted by Mr. Dewes, the magistrate, who was said by the diggers to be secretly his partner in business. A great crowd assembled round the hotel, and a digger, named Kennedy, addressed the multitude, in vigorous Scottish accents, pointing out the spot where their companion's blood had been shed, and asserting that his spirit hovered above and called for revenge. The authorities sent a few police to protect the place, but they were only a handful of men in the midst of a great and seething crowd of over eight thousand powerful diggers. For an hour or two the mob, though indulging in occasional banter, remained harmless. But a mischievous boy having thrown a stone, and broken the lamp in front of the hotel, the police made a movement as if they were about to seize the offender. This roused the diggers to anger, and in less than a minute every pane of glass was broken; the police were roughly jostled and cut by showers of stones; and the doors were broken open. The crowd burst tumultuously into the hotel, and the rooms were soon swarming with men drinking the liquors and searching for Bentley, who, however, had already escaped on a swift horse to the camp. As the noise and disorder