disposed to shun the society of such suspicious creatures, I have just swung my hammock outside the tent, between two trees. June 1st. The Adelphi Company commenced their labors on the 16th ult. We were early at work, and toiled cheerfully on, sustained by the hope that we were about to meet with success. I hardly dared to give myself up to the bright, golden anticipations of my companions; and still they seemed well founded and reasonable. The gold had been traced, in numerous rich layers and veins, down to the very edges of the deep hole in the channel. Doubtless, then, as it would naturally sink down, and settle at the lowest point, washed in by every freshet, if that point could be reached, we should find a rich deposit. A canal must be made so deep as to drain the bottom of this hole, and then a dam must turn the water around the hole, through a new channel. The canal was cut through solid slate. The work was very heavy, requiring the largest bars and picks. We worked all the time in the water. After nine days’ labor, we at length completed the canal, which is about one hundred feet in length, four in width, and five in depth. The only fear was lest it should not effectually drain the hole, without which all our labor was lost. We made the dam on the tenth day, and anxiously awaited the result. Fears were expressed, but we left at night, to meet in the morning, by which time the water would have been reduced to its level. In the morning we were there, and found, after all we could do, that there were three feet of water in the hole we wished to drain. Nothing but steam forcing-pumps would have enabled us to prosecute the work, and we silently and sadly abandoned it. I went up to my tent, and was there alone. All my efforts had failed. I was already deeply in debt for my provisions. Had I any prospect of success? Could I hope even to make enough to enable me to return to my family? The future seemed dark to me. I was desolate and disheartened. In the midst of my sadness and gloom, there came a whisper! A voice dear to me had spoken it before in my sorrow; memory now brought back the same voice, whispering to me, “Fear not, but trust in Providence!” That voice had never failed to cheer and comfort me, and it failed not now. That kind Providence had ever blessed me, and I could trust on, and hope ever! The gold-digger may not stand still. No stone must be left unturned--the treasure may lie beneath the next. This is the miner’s work: he must spend his efforts and his years in rolling over stones, even though his heart is sick with hope deferred--it may be under the next.