now feeling doubly assured that I was
a forerunner of some terrible curse that was about to fall upon the
Trusts and corporations whom those professors were serving so
assiduously, without ever speaking a word of protest in favor of the
human slaves around them.

Once more I related my station. But I spoke in most convincing terms of
the eternal curse with which the Infinite would visit the guilty of all
worlds.

As I left them I saw that my last words brought no relief to their
faces and, after a long silence, they nervously discussed the whole
affair, not being able to account for the exceptional experience through
which they had just passed.

I visited, in a form invisible, the mansions of the rich and found that
the most choice ornaments on their parlor shelves consisted of vials of
soil or dirt, and in the homes of the most wealthy only I saw flowering
plants.

It chanced that I visited this world at the graduating period of the
greater schools. This gave me privilege to hear an oration on "The Soil
and the Diamond," a synopsis of which I will translate as correctly as I
can. It will be remembered that I must use terms and style suitable to
our language.

"O beautiful soil! Thou art but a type of thy maker invisible. Thou dost
give birth to countless forms and nursest them all from thy own bosom.
From the atom thou bringest the oak, and all its children fall back into
thy arms for succor. From thy own heart spring the infinite types of
vegetable beauty, all painted and frescoed by thy own exquisite
touches.

"O mysterious soil! Wrapped in thy bosom lie a thousand secrets which,
if I could but read, I might interpret and thus learn anew of my
Creator. Thou holdest the ashes of the millions slain, and the dust of
all our forefathers.

"O silent soil! How thou workest without the flying shuttle, or the hum
of the busy bees. Thou doest thy greatest deeds without the sounding of
a trumpet. Silently thy atoms take their places to serve in higher
forms. O teach me thy mute language that I may live and sacrifice for
others without my crying and my sighing.

"O humble soil! Thy elements, when formed into man, or fruit, or any
kind of food, return again without complaint when touched by death. May
I, like thee, take all my condescension in the spirit of humility.

"O modest soil! Thou are not gaudy like the diamond, sparkling and
dazzling in a brilliant show and living for nothing higher than display.
But thou d