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the best part of the gold is gone—lost beyond
a doubt.” “Lost!” said I, expecting some
treachery on the part of Bradley and Don
Luis; “ How 1 I don’t believe it; I never
will believe it.” Bradley gave me an angry
look, but said nothing.
“ Where’s Malcolm?” exclaimed I. “Dead
by this time, I am afraid,” replied Bradley.
“Good God!” I exclaimed aloud, and invol
untarily muttered to myself, “Then you have
murdered him.” I noticed Bradley examined
the countenances of the whole party by turns,
.and as my eye followed his, I saw that every
one looked sullen and angry. He, too, evi
dently saw this, and said nothing more the
whole evening. Don Luis, however, vol
unteered the following explanation of the
mystery.
He informed us that, after we had parted
from them, they put their horses into a quick
trot, to escape as soon as possible into a more
agreeable-looking sort of country. They
suspected some vagabond Indians were hov
ering about and as the ground they were
traveling over afforded too many opportuni
ties of concealment to gentry of their charac
ter, they were anxious to reach a more open
district. Their road lay, for several miles,
over a succession of small hills, intersected
by valleys covered with stunted oak trees,
and with here and there a solitary pine.—
Just at a point, when they were winding
round a ridge ol hills, which they imagined
separated them from the Sacramento Valley,
having a small skirting of timber on their
left hand, he, Don Luis, being slightly in ad
vance of Bradley and Malcolm, happened to
turn his head round, when he saw a horse
man stealthily emerging from the thicket, at
a point a short distance in their rear. In a
very few moments, another horseman joined
the first, and before Don Luis could give an
alarm, the second rider, who, it seems, vvas
an Indian, had risen in his saddle and had
flung out his lasso, which, whizzing through
the air, true to its aim, descended over Mal
colm’s head and shoulders. Don Luis, who
saw all this, immediately jumped from his
horse, and placing his finger on the trigger of
his rifle, fired just as the Indian was gallop
ing away. The ball entered his horse’s head,
when the beast was brought to a stand, and,
in a second of time, rolled over with its rider
beneath it, just as the noose had tightened,
and Malcolm was being drawn off his horse
to the ground. Bradley, who only knew of
the danger they were in by hearing the lasso
whirl through the air, immediately dismount
ed, and, like Don Luis, sheltered himself be
hind his horse, while he took aim and fired.
His never-failing rifle brought down one of
their enemies, a swarthy-looking man, in the
usual Mexican sombrero, ofl his horse to the
ground In the twinkling of an eye, they
led their horses behind some boulders of gran
ite which afforded them cover, and from be
hind which* they saw four men come charg
ing upon them. But Bradley and Don Luis,
skilled in this kind of warfare, had already
stooped down and re-loaded. Don Luis was
the first to let fly at the advancing party, but
without success. His shot was answered by
a discharge of rifles from the enemy, which
whistled over his and Bradley’s heads.—
Crack went Bradley’s rifle again—“And you
would have thought,” said Don Luis to us,
“ that the ball had split into four pieces, and
had given each man a tender touch, for they
wheeled round their horses in an instant, and
galloped off, driving Malcom’s horse before
them, which we never saw again.”
Don Luis then went on to say, that as soon
as they saw the coast was clear, they left
their cover and sought out Malcolm, who
was lying on the ground with the lasso tight
ly pinioning his arms, and to all appearance
dead. On a closer examination, however,
they found that he stifl breathed, and also
that he had been severely trampled on by
some of the horses of the robbers in their re
treat. Bradley pulled out his bowie-knife
and cut the lasso in a few moments, when
they tried to raise him up, bat found that the
injuries he had sustained prevented him from
standing. He was, in fact, quite insensible.
At that moment, they were alarmed by the
sound of voices, and looking round, they
saw a party of horsemen riding up at full
speed from the direction of the Sacramento.
They gave themselves up for lost, but, to
their delight, the new-comers proved to be a
party of miners, who, hearing so many rifle
reports in such rapid succession, had imme
diately hastened to the spot. Don Luis sup
posed that the robbers had seen their ap
proach, and that this, and not the bullet from
Bradley's rifle, had been the cause of the
scoundrels’ precipitate retreat. They found
the Indian’s horse, to the saddle of which the
lasso was attached, quite dead. The Indian
himself had managed to crawl oft’, though
doubtless much hurt, as Don Luis saw the
horse roll right over him. The body of the
§®®l?Sl BIE El BOIfBIE &IE ¥ ©&£ BIT IF B *
robber shot by Bradley vvas found; life was
quite extinct, the ball having passed through
his chest in a transverse direction, evidently
penetrating the heart. He was recognized by
some of the miners—natives of the country
. —as one of the disbanded soldiers of the late
Californian army, by name Tomas Maria Ca
rillo —a man of the Very worst character, who
had connected himself with a small band of
depredators, whose occupation was to lay in
wait at convenient spots along the roads in
the neighborhood of the sea-coast, and from
thence to pounce upon and plunder any un
fortunate merchant or ranchero that might be
passing unprotected that way. The gang
had now evidently abandoned the coast, to
try their fortune in the neighborhood of the
mines, and, judging from the accounts which
one of the miners gave of the number of rob
beries that had recently taken place about
there, their mission had been eminently suc
cessful.
“ Our first care,” continued Don Luis, “was
to see to poor Malcolm, and our next object
vvas to go in pursuit of the ruffians. On in
timating so much to our new friends, to our
surprise, they declined to render as any as
sistance. Their curiosity, which it seems
was the only motive that brought them to
wards us, had been satisfied, and 1 felt dis
gusted at the brutality of their conduct when
they coolly turned their horses’ heads round,
and left us alone with our dying friend, not
deigning further to notice our appeals to
them for assistance. No, they must set to
work again, digging and washing, and we
might thank ourselves that their coming up
had saved our lives; this was the burden of
their reply. In their eager pursuit of gold,
they had not a moment to spare for the
commonest offices of Christian charity. At
length,” said Don Luis, “in answer to my
passionate expostulations, backed by the offer
of any reward they might demand—which
offer alone gave force to my words—two of
them consented to return in about an hour
with a litter to convey Malcolm to their
camp.
“The litter they brought was formed of
branches of trees tied together, and covered
thickly over with blankets. On this Mal
colm was slowly borne down the hill-side,
until a rude shanty was reached. He was
carried inside, and we were fortunate enough
to meet with a kind Californian woman, who
promised to attend on him while we returned
here for your assistance.”
In reply to my inquiries, Don Luis said
that he thought there were no bones broken,
but poor Malcolm was dreadfully bruised,
and his flesh in parts much lacerated. He
feared, however, that he had experienced
some severe internal injuries. As it was ut
terly impossible for me to have found my way
to him that night, I determined to take a short
nap and hurry to him on the following morn
ing.
During Don Luis’s recital, I did not for one
moment think of the gold which we had lost;
all my sympathies were with my poor friend.
But, at the conclusion of Don Luis’s narra
tive, I saw that but few of my associates par
ticipated in my grief. Don Luis was imme
diately assailed with inquiries rudely address
ed to him, in reference to the missing gold.
In reply, he stated that we all knew that
I Malcolm carried in his saddle-bags the great
bulk of the gold that they were conveying to
San Francisco ; and that, of course, when the
robbers drove off the horse, the gold went
with it. “It is the doctor you have to thank
for that,” growled out Bradley ; and though
I could not see the matter in this light, still I
could not help thinking of my own distrust
ful disposition, which, in reality, had been
the cause of making Malcolm a party to the
conveyance of the treasure: this, in fact, had
in all probability sacrificed my friend’s life.
I thought of his poor wife and children in
Oregon, who would be waiting in vain for his
return, which he, poor fellow, had delayed
so long, in the hope of going back to them
laden with wealth. Throughout the whole
of the night, most of the party remained gath
ered around the camp-fire—now in sullen si
lence. and now expressing their better dissat
isfaction at the arrangements which had led
to. the day's misfortune. And when the first
faint light of day-break showed over the tall
peaks of the snowy mountains, it discovered
us looking haggard and dejected, alike wea
ried and disgusted with every thing around.
A correspondent of the Lady’s News
paper says he lias never been able to obtain
a solution cf the following enigma. Can
any one assist him t
My first is the terror of ladies on land,
My seebnd the.terror of sailors on water;
My whole Las a warehouse of terrors on hand,
‘that sailors don't fear, and ladies run after.
<Slje (Untie.
MACAULAY’S HISTORY.
[We copy the following article, at the request
of a subscriber, though we cannot coincide
with the writer in his views of Mr. Ma
caulay. We are willing to leave it with
those who have read his History of Eng
land, to decide between him and his Re
viewer] *
Six weeks have scarcely elapsed since Mr.
Macaulay’s History appeared, and it has al
ready reached a third edition. We do not
wonder at its popularity, and we expect it to
take a permanently high place in English lit
erature. There is, in fact, no good history of
England, and it has only been of late years
that its sources have been in any degree ac
curately explored. Even now, much re
mains to be done; and we have heard that
Mr. Macaulay's own researches, amongst the
Dutch archives, not only supplied him large
ly with materials for his present work, but
also convinced him that the history of Queen
Elizabeth ought to be entirely re-written.
The popularity of Mr. Macaulay's work
renders it more important to notice those false
principles and mistakes into which he has
fallen, especially in his introductory chapters.
We have noticed and deplored that cold and
philosophic spirit which seems ashamed to
recognize the agency of God, in the conduct
of those events which bear on the progress of
human affairs. In particular, we have notic
ed and exposed the sceptical doubt, ‘whether
England owes more to the Roman Catholic
religion or to the Reformation,’ and the worse
than sceptical conclusion, that the suppres
sion of the Albigenses and the Lollards was
by no means a matter of regret. It is the
fashion of a certain class of German philoso
phers, to speak as if every form of error or
false doctrine was, in its season, right and
proper. They have risen far above the pre
judices of those who receive the kingdom of
God as little children. In their own imagi
nation, they are ‘wise and prudent,’ and from
their lofty eminence, look down with pity
and contempt on those who receive the Bible
in simplicity, and believe the truths it con
tains. It is not remarkable, then, that ancient
Popery should be regarded by such as mere
ly an introduction to modern Protestantism.
Even idolatry has had its advocates, and there
are those who would consider ‘ the elegant
mythology of the Greeks,’ as so beneficial in
its inflnence, that the overthrow of its altars
and the destruction of its oracles by the march
of Christianity, is to be regarded rather as a
loss than a gain. Percy Byshe Shelley con
ceived Christianity itself to be a very calami
tous accident in the history of the world, and
lamented that the progress of Greek culture
was stopped, first by Roman ‘conquests, then
by this Jewish superstition. As architects,
painters, and sculptors, are apt to prefer the
gorgeous magnificence of the apostate Rome,
to the more sober simplicity of the Reformed
Churches, so the same class of men are some
times prone to prefer Heathenism, with its
temples and its idols, both to Popery and the
Reformation. In a work lately published by
Archdeacon Hare, to the no small scandal of
the Church of England, containing the life
of a curate of his lapsed into gross infidelity,
and which we intend ere long to notice, we
find an anecdote of the celebrated Danish
sculptor, Thorwalsden, very much to the
point: ‘Did you ever,’ writes the unhappy
Mr. Sterling, ‘Did you ever hear the story of
his being at a party at Bunsen’s, whose house
was on the Capitol Hill, or the site of the
temple of Olympian Jove, and where the.con
versation, as often under Bunsen’s guidance,
took a very Christian turn, till ThorwaJsden
remarked through the window, commanding
a noble prospect of Rome, the modern city,
the planet Jupiter in great glory, and filling
his glass, exclaimed, “ Well! here's in honor
of the ancient gods /”
Such is the spirit in which men ‘without
hope and. without God in the world,’ are con
tent to view those strongholds of Satan,
whether they belong to Heathen or Popish
times, against which the doom of Heaven has
gone forth, and which are numbered amongst
the obstacles which impede the progress of
Messiah’s kingdom ! They look upon Hea
thenism, or Popery, or Mohammedanism, not
as each bears upon the realities of eternity,
but as they seem associated with the progress
of the arts and sciences, and especially with
the embellishments of polished life. The
sculptor, J horwalsden, could drink to the an
cient gods, just as Pugin, the architect, has
gone over to the ancient superstition of a sys
tem rich in gorgeous architecture, painted
windows, and marble images. So the man of
letters, or the antiquary, when indifferent to
the kingdom of the Lord of glory, can drink
jhe ,h LTg^ll h ‘ he Xrbra W t t C h ,o^ e<f
; down to the time of Lmiefat’ ?ehZ E ° me ’
posed by heretics, to erect such maTs'J,”° P ’
pies as the church of St. Peter’s- S ,’*™’
the genius of Michael Angelo and fit r Sler
Connected with Mr. Maclulay’s scemh' ’
concerning Popery and the Reformat™ S " >
most not overlook his shameful !,i„ “ ’ We
the memory of Cranmer. We are not L°s
| to the faults and errors of the first Proles'm
Archbishop, but we also know that Mr M
anlay is utterly incapable of penetrating
inner chambers of the heart of such a
and that m maligning the great Reformer 'hi
only exposes his own ignorance and incanf
city. His words are as follows: “
his professions, unscrupulous in his dealing
zealous for nothing, bold in
coward and a time-server in action, a placable
enemy, and a lukewarm friend.’ ‘ 1 °
To refute these calumnies, uttered, as thev
are, with a confidence which seems to monk
at the notion of fallibility, it would be neces
sary to go over the events of the life of Cran”
mer. But a very slight acquaintance with
history is enough to prove that Macaulay did
not understand, and could not appreciate the
Reformer whom he defames. It is true he
was, to use Bishop Burnet’s words, ‘a man of
gieat temper, and disliked violence ‘He
was,’ says the Bishop, ‘gentle in his whole
behaviour, and though he was a man of too
great candor and simplicity to he refined in
the arts of policy , yet he managed his
with great prudence; which did so much re
commend him to the king, that no ill offices
were able to hurt him.’. Again—‘lt is clear
that he held not that opinion (concerning the
dependence of ecclesiastical functions on the
civil magistrate) to get the king’s favor by if
for, as in many other things, as in the busi
ness of the Six Articles, he boldly and freely
argued, both in . the Convocation and the
House of Peers, against that which he knew
was the king’s mind, and took his life in his
hands, which had certainly been offered at a
slake if the king’s esteem of him had not been
proof against all attempts.’ Bishop Burnet’s
notice of his closing scenes we also quote, be
cause it is short and pregnant in meaning, re
membering, as we must, that Thaunus, or de
Thou, was himself a Romanist, and an emi
nent French judge, the first President of the
Parliament of Paris, as well as an historian.
‘I have nothing,’ says the Bishop, ‘to add
to the said narrative I gave, both of his fall
and of his repentance, and his firm constancy
to the last, in that amazing instance of hold
ing his hand in the fire till it was almost
burnt away; of which Thuanus gives a very
particular account, so that the truth of the
fact cannot be disputed.’
It has, of late, become a fashion to abuse
Cranmer; and Mr. Macaulay, in his history,
has in this, as in other instances, proved that
he himself is subject to that same weakness
which he says is characteristic of English
historians. ‘As there is no country where
statesmen have been so much under the influ
ence of the past, so there is no country where
historians have been so much under the influ
ence of the present .’ The abuse of Cranmer
may gratify the Tractarians, and will please
the Romanists, whilst it is not disgraceful ei
ther to Infidelity or to political dissent. Mr.
Hallam has, in like manner, grossly defamed
Luther, and spoken of the great German Re
former, as if those writings, which shook the
Vatican and revolutionized Europe, were be
neath the notice of an historian of literature.
Bossuet, on the contrary, although a Papist,
is extolled as.‘the eagle of Meaux.’ Thus it
is, that we discern in the boasted Liberalism
of worldly men, the natural enmity of the hu
man heart against the things of God! — Lon
don Record.
COMMON SENSE.
She came among the glittering crowd
A maiden fair without pretence,
And when they asked her humble name
She whispered mildly “Common Sense.
Her modest garb drew every eye,
ifer ample cloak, her shoes of leather—
And when they sneered, she simply said,
“I dress according to the weather.’
They argued long, and reasoned loud
Jn dubious Hindoo phrase mysterious,
While she, poor child, could not divine
Why girls so young, should be so sorio
They knew the length of Plato’s heard
And how the scholars wrote in Saturn
She studied authors not so deep.
And took the Bilile for her pattern.
And so she said “Excuse me friends,
I find all have their proper places,
And Common Sense should stay at home, ? >
With cheerful hearts and 6miling i flce