The variety and beauty in the two higher kingdoms are displayed to the eyes of all. But the wonders of the Mineral kingdom are hidden beneath the surface. Mines have to be opened, in order to obtain the metals and precious stones that the earth hides in her bosom; and man can only obtain them through hard and patient labor. Hundreds of feet below the surface of the ground, the miner, with no light to direct his labor but that given him by his dimly burning safety-lamp, toils on, unconscious of the day's opening or decline. The sun does not rise nor set for him. He is not warned by the home-returning bee, the dimly falling shadows of evening, nor the sudden cry of the night-bird, that the hour of rest has come. But the body cannot endure labor beyond a certain number of hours. Tired nature calls for repose, and the call must be obeyed. Even the miner must have his hours of rest; and then he comes forth, it may be, from his gloomy place of labor, once more into the sunlight; or sinks to sleep in the dark chambers where he toils for bread.
When you look at a piece of metal, whether it be gold, silver, copper, or iron, remember that it has been won from its hidden place, deep in the solid earth, by the hard labor of man.
THE MINER.
Down where the daylight never comes
Toileth the miner on;
He sees not the golden morning break—
He sees not the setting sun.
Dimly his lamp in the dark vault burns,
And he sits on the miner's hard floor,
Toiling, toiling, toiling on;
Toiling for precious ore!
The air is wet; for the dew and rain,
Drank by the thirsty ground,
Have won their way to his dark retreat,
And are trickling all around—-
And sickly vapors are near his lips,
And close to his wire-net lamp,
Unseen, as an evil spirit comes,
Up stealeth the dread fire-damp!
But the miner works on, though death is by,
And fears not the monster grim;
For the wiry gauze, round his steady light,
Makes a safety-lamp for him.
Rough and rude, and of little worth,
Seems the ore that the miner brings
From the hidden places where lie concealed
Earth's rare and precious things;
But, tried awhile in the glowing fire,
It is rough and rude no more;
Art moulds the iron, and forms the gold,
And fashions the silver ore.
And useful, rare, and beautiful things,
'Neath the hand of skill arise:
Oh! a thousand thousand human wants
The miner's toil supplies!
VISIT TO FAIRY LAND.
So, then, you want to hear some stories about the fairies, do you, little girl? Well, I must humor you a little, I suppose; though I should not wonder if my fairy stories were somewhat different from those you have heard before. But have you the least idea that there were ever such beings as the fairies in the world? If you have, let me tell you, you are quite mistaken. The stories that have been told about these fairy people are none of them worthy of belief, though it must be admitted that millions have believed them. Many of the men and women who pretended to have seen the fairies, and who related the stories in the first place, believed all they said, I have no doubt. But they were generally ignorant persons, very superstitious, and easily imposed upon. There are, it is true, invisible inhabitants in this world. Those who believe the Bible, can hardly doubt the presence of angels among us. But angels, as they are represented in the Scriptures, are a very different class of spirits from those called fairies, if we may credit what has been said of this singular race of beings, by those who pretend to have seen them in fairy land.