unwieldly power, which will yield
only to persevering industry and continual care. But what a glorious
flower blooms for him in these awful depths,--a firm confidence in his
heavenly Father, whose hand and care are every day visible to him in
signs not easily mistaken! How often have I sat down, and by the light
of my lamp gazed upon the plain crucifix with the most heart-felt
devotion! Then for the first time I clearly understood the holy meaning
of this mysterious image, and struck upon a heart-vein of the richest
golden ore, and which has yielded me an everlasting reward."

After a pause the old man continued:--

"Truly must he have been divine, who first taught men the noble art of
mining, and who has hidden in the bosom of the rock this sober emblem
of human life. In one place the veins are large, easily broken, but
poor; in another a wretched and insignificant cleft of rock confines
it; and here the best ores are to be found. It often splits before the
miner's face into a thousand atoms, but the patient one is not
terrified; he quietly pursues his course, and soon sees his zeal
rewarded, whilst working it open in a new and more promising direction.

"A specious lump often entices him from the true direction; but he soon
discovers that the way is false, and breaks his way by main strength
across the grain of the rock, until he has found the true path that
leads to the ore. How thoroughly acquainted does the miner here become
with all the humors of chance, and how assured that energy and
constancy are the only sure means of overcoming them and of raising the
hidden treasure."

"Certainly you are not without cheering songs," said Henry. "I should
think that your calling would involuntarily inspire you with music, and
that songs would be your welcome companions."

"There you have spoken the truth," said the old man. "The song and the
guitar belong to the miner's life, and no occupation can retain their
charm with more zest than ours. Music and dancing are the pleasures of
the miner; like a joyful prayer are they, and the remembrance and hope
of them help to lighten weary labor and shorten long solitude.

"If you would like it now, I will give you a song for your
entertainment, which was a favorite in my youth.

"Who fathoms her recesses,
Is monarch of the sphere,--
Forgetting all distresses,
Within her bosom here.

"Of all her granite piling