23
The entire diggings, in a state of extreme excitement.—The diggers are lords and masters of Ballaarat; and the prestige of the Camp is gone for ever.
XVI.
LOQUAR IN AMARITUDINE ANIMÆ MEÆ
Now my peace of mind being destroyed, I had recourse to the free British press, for information, wishing to hear what they said in Melbourne. At this time the Morning Herald was in good demand; but the Geelong Advertiser had the sway on the gold-fields. Geelong had a rattling correspondent on Ballaarat, who helped to hasten the movement fast enough. As I did not know this correspondent of the Geelong Advertiser personally, so I can only guess at his frame of mind. I should say the following ingredients entered into the factory of his ideas:—
1st. The land is the Lord's and all therein; but man must earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. Therefore, in the battle of life, every man must fight his way on the old ground, "help yourself and God will help you."
2nd. In olden times, wherever there was a Roman there was life. In our times, wherever there is a Briton there is trade, and trade is life. But with the lazy,—who, either proud or mean, is always an incapable, because generally he is a drunkard, and therefore a beggar, there is no possible barter; and, inasmuch as man does not live on bread alone, for a fried sole is a nice thing for breakfast, so also it must be confessed that the loaves and fishes do not condescend to jump into one's mouth all dressed as they ought to be. Therefore—and this is the zenith of the Geelong Advertiser's practical correspondent—be not perplexed, if the loaves and fishes wont pop fast enough into your mouth particularly; let Mahomed's example be instantly followed: go yourself to the loaves and fishes, and you will actually find that they are subject to the same laws of matter and motion as everything else on earth.
3rd. The application. For what did any one emigrate to this colony? To sweat more? Well, times were hard enough for the poor in old Europe. Let him sweat more, but for whom? For himself of course, and good luck to him. Is there not plenty of Victoria land for every white man or black man that intends to grow his potatoes? Oh! leave the greens-growing to the well-disposed, to the well-affected, ye
