The emigrants to California are composed of two classes—those who come to live by their wits, and those who come to accumulate by their work. The wit capitalists will find dupes for a time—small fish in shallow waters—but a huge roller will soon heave them all high and dry! This is the last country to which a man should come, who is above or beneath the exercise of his muscles. Every object he meets addresses him in the admonitory language which gleams in the motto of the Arkansas bowie-knife—“root, hog, or die.” But then he has this encouragement: he can root almost anywhere, but _root_ he must. They who come relying on their physical forces, and who are largely endowed with the organs of perseverance, will succeed. But if they stay too long in San Francisco, their enthusiasm will have an ague-fit, and their golden dream turn to sleet and hail. They should hasten through and dash at once into their scene of labor; nor should they expect success without corresponding efforts; if fortune favors them to-day, she will disappoint them to-morrow; her favors and frowns fall with marvellous caprice; the digger must be above the one and independent of the other; he must rely upon his own resources; and upon his fidelity to one unchanged and unchangeable purpose. He comes here to get gold, not in pounds or ounces, but in grains; his most instructive lesson will be by the side of the ant-hill. There he sees a little industrious fellow, foregoing the pastimes of other insects, and bringing another grain to his heap; working on with right good heart through the day, and sometimes taking advantage of the moon, and plying his task through the luminous night. Let him watch that ant, and go and do likewise, if he would return from California with a fortune. I don’t recommend him to come here and convert himself into a pismire for gold; but if he _will_ come, the more he has of the habits of that little groundling the better. CALIFORNIA ON CHARACTER.