Apostrophe to Gold

God of the craven heart! Idol of millions, how splendid are thy temples, how zealous are thy worshippers! They gather around thy smile in the morning, they leave not thy devotions at midnight! Thou smilest upon them and they grow mad in the midst of their palaces. They make themselves monarchs in fancy and conquerors in dreams. Who can withstand thee? Thou leadest the feet of beauty, thou directest the arm of the brave! Thy pathway is the pathway of triumphs, thy presence the solace of power! Thou silenced the voice of eloquence when the Macedonian held thee up glittering before the eye of the orator; and the mistress of the world rose before thee in the balance! Disposer of empires! thou spreadest over the world. Thy spell nerved the assassin, and urged on the betrayer. Thy yellow visage incited the spoiler when he sought thee on the crimson field, and made himself red in the carnage. In all ages thou hast triumphed. Whether in the thirty pieces rewarding a Judas, or the sparkling crown on the brow of a tyrant; always alike invincible. The man of business bows obsequiously to thee. The man of fashion falls before thee, and the miser clutches thy garment as though it were the curtains of heaven! Thou hast a retinue of coaches, and an army of slaves! Thou hast a goal of a splendid misery, where the guilt makes her alliance with death! The virgin at the sanctuary fears not thy footsteps, and the shorn priest flies not the power of thy magic.-Ossian.

A miser who heaps treasure which he never means to spend, is as idly employed as one who lays his purse before a looking glass, and sits all day contemplating the useless duplicate of his wealth.