This rain has given me time to look at the newspapers of about a week old. Oh, oh! The Cotton Lords are tearing! Thank God for that! The Lords of the Anvil are snapping! Thank God for that too! They have kept poor souls, then, in a heat of 84 degrees to little purpose after all. The "great interests" mentioned in the King's Speech do not, _then_, all continue to flourish! The "prosperity" was not, then, "permanent," though the King was advised to assert so positively that it was! "Anglo-Mexican and Pasco-Peruvian" fall in price, and the Chronicle assures me that "the respectable owners of the Mexican Mining shares mean to take measures to protect their _property_." Indeed! Like _protecting_ the Spanish Bonds, I suppose? Will the Chronicle be so good as to tell us the names of these "_respectable_ persons"? Doctor Black must know their names; or else he could not know them to be _respectable_. If the parties be those that I have heard, these mining works may possibly operate with them as an emetic, and make them throw up a part at least of what they have taken down. There has, I see, at New York, been that confusion which I, four months ago, said would and must take place; that breaking of merchants and all the ruin which, in such a case, spreads itself about, ruining families and producing fraud and despair. Here will be, between the two countries, an interchange of cause and effect, proceeding from the dealings in _cotton_, until, first and last, two or three hundred thousands of persons have, at one spell of paper-money work, been made to drink deep of misery. I pity none but the poor English creatures, who are compelled to work on the wool of this accursed weed, which has done so much mischief to England. The slaves who cultivate and gather the cotton are well fed. They do not suffer. The sufferers are these who spin it and weave it and colour it, and the wretched beings who cover with it those bodies which, as in the time of old Fortescue, ought to be "clothed throughout in good woollens."