regions you have
raised the devil on his throne, and worshipped him in his proud
pre-eminence as Mammon.

Let us think. Is not the thirst for gold a temptation to which our natures
are doomed to be subjected--part of the ordeal which we have to pass? or
why is it that there never is sufficient?

It appears to be ordained by Providence that this metal, obtained from the
earth to feed the avarice of man, should again return to it. If all the
precious ore which for a series of ages has been raised from the dark mine
were now in tangible existence, how trifling would be its value! how
inadequate as a medium of exchange for the other productions of nature, or
of art! If all the diamonds and other precious stones which have been
collected from the decomposed rocks (for hard as they once were, like all
sublunary matter, they too yield to time) why, if all were remaining on the
earth, the frolic gambols of the May-day sweep would shake about those
gems, which now are to be found in profusion only where rank and beauty pay
homage to the thrones of kings. Arts and manufactures consume a large
proportion of the treasures of the mine, and as the objects fall into
decay, so does the metal return to the earth again. But it is in Eastern
climes, where it is collected, that it soonest disappears. Where the despot
reigns, and the knowledge of an individual's wealth is sufficient warranty
to seal his doom, it is to the care of the silent earth alone that the
possessor will commit his treasures; he trusts not to relation or to
friend, for gold is too powerful for human ties. It is but on his death-bed
that he imparts the secret of his deposit to those he leaves behind him;
often called away before he has time to make it known, reserving the fond
secret till too late; still clinging to life, and all that makes life dear
to him. Often does the communication, made from the couch of death, in
half-articulated words, prove so imperfect, that the knowledge of its
existence is of no avail unto his intended heirs; and thus it is that
millions return again to the earth from which they have been gathered with
such toil. What avarice has dug up avarice buries again; perhaps in future
ages to be regained by labour, when, from the chemical powers of eternal
and mysterious Nature, they have again been filtered through the indurated
earth, and reassumed the form and the appearance of the metal which has
lain in darkness since the creation of the world.