By James Hutchings, 1853
A Man spake these words, and said: I am a miner who wandered from “Away Down East,” and came to soujourn in a strange land and “See the Elephant.” And, behold I saw him, and bear witness that, from the key of his trunk to the end of his tail, hos whole body has passed before me; and I followed him until his huge feet stood still before a clapboard shanty; then, with his trunk extended, he pointed to a candle-card tacked upon a shingle, as though he would say “Read!”
Miners Ten Commandments:
I. Thou shalt have no other claim than one.
II. Thou shalt not make unto thyself any false claim, nor any likeness to a mean man by jumping one. Whatever though findest on the top above, or on the rock beneath, or in a crevice underneath the rock, or I will visit the miners around to invite them on my side; and when they decide against thee, thou shalt take thy pick, thy pan, thy shovel, and thy blankets, with all that thou hast, and go prospecting to seek good diggings; but thou shalt fine none. then, when thou hast returned, in sorry shalt thou find that thine old claim is worked out, and yet no pile made thee to hide in the ground or in an old boot beneath thy bunk, or in buckskin or bottle underneath thy cabin; but has paid all that was in thy purse away, worn out thy boots and thy garments, so that there is nothing good about them but the pockets, and thy patience is likened unto thy garments; and at last thou shalt hire thy body out to make thy board and save thy bacon.
III. Thou shalt not go prospecting before thy claim gives out. Neither shalt though take thy money, nor thy gold dust, nor thy good name, to the gaming table in vain; for monte, twenty-one, roulette, faro, lansquent and poker will prove to thee that the more though puttest down the less though shalt take up; and when thou thinkest of thy wife and children, thou shalt not hold thyself guiltless, but — insane.
IV. Thou shalt not remember what they friends do at home on the Sabbath day, lest the remembrance may not compare favorably with what though doest here. Six days thou mayest dig or pick all that thy body can stand under, but the other day is Sunday; yet thou washest all thy dirty shirts, darnest all thy stockings, tap thy boots, mend thy clothing, chop thy whole week’s firewood, make up and bake thy bread and boil thy pork and beans that thou wait not when thou returnest from thy long-tom weary. For in six days’ labor only thou canst not work enough to wear out thy body in two years; but if thou workest hard on Sunday also, thou canst do it in six months; and thou and thy son and thy daughter, thy male and thy female friend, thy morals and thy conscience be none the less better for it, but reproach thee shouldst thou ever return to thy mother’s fireside; and thou strive to justify thyself because the trader and the blacksmith, the carpenter and the merchant, the tailors, Jews and Buccaneers defy God and civilization by keeping not the Sabbath day, nor wish for a day of rest, such as memory of youth and home made hallowed.
V. Though shalt not think more of all thy gold, nor how thou canst make it faster, than how thou wilt enjoy it after thou hast ridden rough-shod over thy good old parents’ precepts and examples, that thou mayest have nothing to reproach and sting thee when thou art left alone in the land where thy father’s blessing and thy mother’s love hath sent thee.
VI. Thou shalt not kill thy body by working in the rain, even though thou shalt make enough to buy physic and attendance with. Neither shalt thou kill thy neighbor’s body in a duel, for by keeping cool thou canst save his life and thy conscience. Neither shalt though destroy thyself by getting “tight,” nor “slewed,” nor “high,” nor “corned,” nor “half-seas over,” nor “three sheets in the wind,” by drinking smoothly down “brandy slings,” “gin cocktails,” “whisky punches,” “rum toddies” nor “eggnogs.” Neither shalt thou suck “mint-juleps” nor “sherry cobblers” through a straw, nor gurgle from a bottle the raw material, nor take it neat from a decanter, for while thou art swallowing down thy purse and thy coat from off thy back, thou art burning the coat from off thy stomach.
And if thou couldst see the houses and lands, and gold dust, and home comforts already lying there — a huge pile — thou shouldst feel a choking in thy throat; and when to that thou add’st thy crooked walking and hiccupping; of lodging in the gutter, of broiling in the sun, of prospect holes half full of water, and of shafts and ditches from which thou hast emerged like a drowning rat, thou wilt feel disgusted with thyself, and inquire, “Is thy servant a dog that he doeth these things?”
Verily, I will say, farewell old bottle; I will kiss thy gurgling lips no more; and thou, slings, cocktails, punches, smashes, cobblers, nogs, toddies, sangarees and juleps, forever, farewell. Thy remembrance shames me; henceforth i will cut thy acquaintance; and headaches, tremblings, heart-burnings, blue-devils, and all the unholy catalogue of evils which follow in thy train. My wife’s smiles and my children’s merry-hearted laugh shall charm and reward me for having the manly firmess and courage to say: “No! I wish thee an eternal farewell!”