"What a fine thing it is to be young, and in this time of the world too! We are the cream of all that have gone before us. We really live their life; we begin where they ended; we stand on their shoulders; their whole learning is only our alphabet; they laid the foundation, we build the superstructure. But poor old fogies! they would never have got any farther if they had lived a thousand years. It's a lucky thing for the world that they didn't—useless lumber, withered stubble, trees dead at the root—cut, burn, and bury them out of the way: they have done all the good in the world they ever can do, and the world wants them no longer."
"They are a clog on its machinery—dirt in its wheels—rust in its joints—a pebble in its shoe—it's never been a merry world since old men came into fashion."
"If a man must grow old, if he will be so unreasonable and unseasonable, let him keep it to himself and not infect everything about him. If his hair is grey, is that any reason why the sunshine should be so too?—if he walks with crutches, must the brooks stop running?—if his eyes are dim, must we put out the stars or clap a pair of spectacles on to the nose of the moon?"
"Heaven bless the mark! nothing grows old but man and his inventions—the sky is as blue—the sun's eye, though he has but one, is as bright—the wind is as frolicsome, as when they first shone and danced through Eden; the very flowers, though they fade and go out, yet keep their heart young to the last—who ever heard of a decrepit rose, a superannuated violet, or a greyheaded butterfly?"
"I never mean to grow old. I can ride as fast and as far as any of them—my heart beats as many beats to a minute as the best, no one shall ever ride over me, or cry to me to get out of his way.—My last pulsation shall be as vigorous as any that preceded it."
[He lays down the paper with a cold shudder.] Who said I was old? who was that talking about being buried? away with such idle fancies! I shant be buried these twenty years. I'm not old—I'm as vigorous and active as ever I was in my life—there's as much strength in that arm [here he stretches out his right arm, and clasps it with his left hand] as when I was thirty, and my limbs are as light, [he gets up and dances] I should like to see the young man that could tire me out, [he sits down rather suddenly] only I want practice to strengthen my wind; and as for my mind, I believe it is capable of greater exertion than ever, [he knits his brow, and appears to be solving some knotty question in state or finance] yes, I have twenty years yet as good as the best; hurrah boys! never say die! [he swings his hat feebly round his head, then sits down in a tremor of shame and indignation at being detected by his youngest clerk in such outrageous fashion].
In this state he takes his pen and with infinite labour writes these brief observations, as if all the fog of all the Fogies were in his veins.
If the author of the following narrative had taken my advice, he would never have gone to California in the first place, nor written this book afterwards. It is obvious to the dullest capacity that he wouldn't have written the book if he hadn't gone; and as for the other, he allows himself in the very first chapter that I did all I could to prevent it. It may be gratifying to the reader to know that I am the very person there mentioned in such flattering terms, and I can assure him that that account is by no means exaggerated. I believe I am, at least I have always enjoyed the reputation of being as sober and prudent as my neighbors; and it was therefore no more than natural that I should express the unalterable conviction there referred to. I added moreover my reasons for that conviction which the author has seen fit not to mention, possibly because his folly and obstinacy would thereby appear still more inexcusable than they do now; but he shall not escape so easily, as I am determined to set the whole matter in the clearest possible light.
My first and principal reason then was that I did not believe there was any such place as California.
"No such place as California! Well, you have found out your mistake by this time I suppose."