A sudden start might take the mass of the people to a new Frazer
River or another Australia. They might rush to the wilds of some
frontier treasury of nature, now unknown.
Even Philip Hardin dared not dream that humble bar-keepers would
blossom out into great bank presidents, that signatures, once
potent only on the saloon "slate," would be smiled on by "friend
Rothschild" and "brother Baring." The "lightning changes" of the
burlesque social life of Western America begin to appear. It is
a wild dream that the hands now toiling with the pick or carrying
the miner's tin dinner-pail, would close in friendship on the
aristocratic palm of H.R.H. Albert Edward, the Prince of Wales.
The "chambermaid's own" romances would not dare to predict that
ladies bred to the broom and tub or the useful omnipotent "fry
pan," would smile on duchesses, crony with princesses, or regulate
their visiting lists by the "Almanach de Gotha."
Their great magician is Gold. In power, in pleasing witchery of
potent influence; insidious flattery of pleasure; in remorseless
persecution of the penniless, all wonders are its work. Ariel,
Mephisto, Moloch, thou, Gold! King Gold! and thy brother, Silver!
While Philip Hardin speculated from his lofty eyrie, the San
Francisco hills are now covered with the unsubstantial palaces of
the first successful residents.
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