Golden Dreams and Leaden Realities

by George Payson

Not at all, I don't believe it now any more than I did then.

"What! not with all the gold that's pouring into the country, and the thousands of ships and hundreds of thousands of men that have gone there!"

Softly, my young friend, all this proves nothing. Indeed, if you have seen California, you of course are justified in believing, but not otherwise. I remember a great many people used to believe in the existence of such a man as Napoleon Bonaparte, and the papers were full of the subject, just as they are now of California. In fact, (I was younger then than I am now,) I used to believe in him myself, and dare say I should have gone on believing to this day if it hadn't been for that little book of the Bishop of Berkshire proving to a mathematical certainty that such a series of events was clearly impossible according to the world's history. But I'm sure California is just as improbable, just as much out of the common course, and we've no more proof, in fact not so much, of its existence, for it's a good deal further off, and though it is a little bigger, it can't make half so much noise; so that is about equal. To be sure, as you say, any number of men and ships have set sail for California, but that's no sign that they ever got there. They say so of course, for no one likes to be humbugged, but for all we know, they might just as well have gone to India, or China, or Japan. I have noticed they are never very fond of talking about their adventures, and when they are, they say very little about the gold they have brought home, though that after all is the only real proof; and they are sure to go into a huff if any one asks them how much they made, or to give some ridiculous and impertinent answer. So you see that, reasoning à priori, the balance of probability is decidedly opposed to the existence of any such country.

But supposing that there is such a country, it doesn't follow that there is any gold in it. In fact this is even more improbable than the other. There is no gold in New York—why should there be any in California? Is it because it is so far off? or because it lies on the Pacific? or because it is good for nothing else? None of these reasons will answer. There are other countries equally distant, equally valueless, and in the same ocean, but they contain no gold; why then, I say, should California?

But a simple proposition will set the matter at rest at once. The world has now existed, according to the strictest calculation, six thousand years; which being multiplied by three hundred and sixty-five, the number of days in a year, will give over two millions of days, on any of which the gold might have been discovered. The chances then that it would not be discovered on the first day of the six thousand and first year are as two millions to one. If we then take into the account, that during all this time the population of the globe has averaged about five hundred millions, and that all this immense number has never made this discovery, the improbability that it should be made by a single individual, and one too that nobody ever heard of, is as five hundred millions to one; and these two chances multiplied together, ought surely to satisfy any reasonable man that there is no gold there, and never has been.

Besides, even supposing California really to be, and to be as full of gold as it is represented, my acquaintance with the character of the late author, was enough to convince me that he would never get a morsel of it. I was not very well acquainted with him, to be sure, having only known him twenty years or so, and his character being of that shallow order, that one could read it at a glance if he would only take sufficient trouble; but as far as I did know, he was always an idle shiftless fellow, with an education he had not the capacity to improve, nor the courage entirely to disown, so he used to say, though I must confess I never could discover why it should require such a prodigious effort. He had waited a long time in hopes something would turn up, and used to justify himself in this particular by reference to one Mr. Wilkins Micawber, who, according to his account, had amassed a considerable fortune in that way; though for my own part I never heard of such an individual before, and always believed that to be one of his own inventions.

He was fond too of talking, in his barbarous and senseless fashion, about his having been engaged, at such an early age that he really had no voice in the matter, to one Clio or Chloe, some person of colour I suppose, though nobody to my knowledge ever saw her, and he declared that now he was arrived at years of discretion, (discretion indeed!) as the laws of society, which he was pleased in his wisdom to pronounce foolish and absurd, rendered a divorce difficult, he was determined to run away from her altogether; and the California fever breaking out just then, he was one of the first to be taken. But though California seems expressly designed by Providence for the accommodation and relief of just such good-for-naughts, lazy clerks, runaway apprentices, men without professions, and professions without practice—he was really as unfit for anything of the kind as could possibly be imagined or conceived of. He has seen fit to indulge in much unseemly and unbecoming mirth over the misfortunes of some of his acquaintances, but I will venture on my own authority to maintain that among them all there was not one but was better calculated to make his way in the world, and in California too, for that matter, than himself. He might have walked right over a lump of gold weighing a hundred pounds every day for six months, and would have been sure to tumble into the hole after it had been taken out, and wonder he had not seen it before.

As for faith and energy, he hadn't as much as could ride on a thistledown; and though he could dream fast enough, I warrant you, of thousands and of millions, yet when it came to the actual, downright, wide-awake necessity, he was of no more account than a child or a philosopher.

It was in view of these various reasons that I declared my unalterable conviction, that he would not get gold enough to carry on his thumb-nail. Of course, being unalterable, I have never thought of altering it. And there has been no reason. He did, indeed, for some time after his return, carry about with him a snuff-box, half full of an ugly yellow dust he called gold, and some folks were credulous enough to believe him; but I was too old a bird to be caught with such chaff. It looked as much like brass as it did like gold. Besides, nobody knew, nobody could know where it came from, and like enough he had it manufactured for the occasion. Anything was more probable than that it came from California.

I could forgive him anything, however, even his good fortune, easier than his inconsequential, illogical mode of reasoning. It is very evident that he did not meet with that success he had expected; but instead of giving the true reasons for his disappointment, he seeks to conceal his weakness by a variety of evasions equally futile, ridiculous, and absurd.