Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Lecture 1: The valley of diamo...
 Lecture 2: The pyramid builder...
 Lecture 3: The crystal life
 Lecture 4: The crystal orders
 Lecture 5: Crystal virtues
 Lecture 6: Crystal quarrels
 Lecture 7: Home virtues
 Lecture 8: Crystal caprice
 Lecture 9: Crystal sorrows
 Lecture 10: The crystal rest
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Group Title: The ethics of the dust : ten lectures to little housewives on the elements of crystallization
Title: The ethics of the dust
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082000/00001
 Material Information
Title: The ethics of the dust ten lectures to little housewives on the elements of crystallization
Physical Description: xv, 249 p. : ill. (some col.), port. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Ruskin, John, 1819-1900
Altemus, Henry ( Publisher )
Altemus' Bookbindery ( Printer )
Publisher: Henry Altemus
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Manufacturer: Altemus' Bookbindery
Publication Date: 1893
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Wealth -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Imagination -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Crystallography -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
History -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Physical sciences -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dialogues -- 1893   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre: Dialogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Statement of Responsibility: by John Ruskin.
General Note: Added title page printed in colors.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00082000
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002236841
notis - ALH7319
oclc - 07125940

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
    Half Title
        Half Title
        Page i
        Page ia
    Title Page
        Page ii
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page xi
        Page xii
        Page xiii
        Page xiv
        Page xv
        Page xvi
    Lecture 1: The valley of diamonds
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
    Lecture 2: The pyramid builders
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    Lecture 3: The crystal life
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
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        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    Lecture 4: The crystal orders
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
    Lecture 5: Crystal virtues
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
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        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
    Lecture 6: Crystal quarrels
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    Lecture 7: Home virtues
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
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        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
    Lecture 8: Crystal caprice
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
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        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
    Lecture 9: Crystal sorrows
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
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        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
    Lecture 10: The crystal rest
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
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        Page 249
    Back Matter
        Back Matter 1
        Back Matter 2
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

The Baldm Ubrary
R B Flo-rds


~zca~ ~~a


Etbic of

tbe Must

3obn luushin






i<)t j$returry1











Ckrist as, 1875.


VII. HOME VIRTUES .. ... 133
NOTES, . .. 239


OLD LECTURER (of incalculable age).
on astronomical evidence presumed to be aged 9.
LILY, 2.
KATHLEEN, .. 14.
VIOLET, .. 16.
DORA (who has the keys and is housekeeper), 17.
EGYPT (so called from her dark eyes), 17.
JESSIE (who somehow always makes the room
look brighter when she is in it), 18.
MARY (of whom everybody, including the Old
Lecturer, is in great awe), 20.


I HAVE seldom been more disappointed by
the result of my best pains given to any of
my books, than by the earnest request of
my publisher, after the opinion of the public
had been taken on the Ethics of the Dust,"
that I would "'write no more in dialogue "
However, I bowed to public judgment in
this matter at once (knowing also my in-
ventive powers to be of the feeblest); but
,hi reprinting the book (at the prevailing re-
quest of my kind friend, Mr. Henry Willett),
I would pray the readers whom it may at
first offend by its disconnected method, to
examine, nevertheless, with care, the pas-
sages in which the principal speaker sums
the conclusions of any dialogue : for these
summaries were written as introductions,
for young people, to all that I have said on
the same matters in my larger books; and,
on re-reading them, they satisfy me better,
and seem to me calculated to be more
generally useful, than anything else I have
done of the kind.

viii rvWe2 t# the *tc 4 t (!lilion.

The summary of the contents of the whole
book, beginning, "You may at least ear-
nestly believe," at p. 215, is thus the clearest
exposition I have ever yet given of the gen-
eral conditions under which the Personal
Creative Power manifests itself in the forms
of matter; and the analysis of heathen con-
ceptions of Deity, beginning at p. 217, and
closing at p. 229, not only prefaces, but
very nearly supersedes, all that in more
lengthy terms I have since asserted, or
pleaded for, in "Aratra Pentelici," and the
"Queen of the Air."
And thus, however the book may fail in
its intention of suggesting new occupations
or interests to its younger readers, I think
it worth reprinting, in the way I have also
reprinted Unto this Last,"-page for page ;
that the students of my more advanced
works may be able to refer to these as the
original documents of them; of which the
most essential in this book are these follow-
I. The explanation of the baseness of the.
avaricious functions of the Lower Pthah,
p. 54, with his beetle-gospel, p. 59, "that a
nation can stand on its vices better than on
its virtues," explains the main motive of all
my books on Political Economy.
II. The examination of the connection be-
tween stupidity and crime, pp. 87-96, antici-
pated all that I have had to urge in Fors

Nut=c to thte gun4a 9 OtUi, ix

Clavigera against the commonly alleged
excuse for public wickedness,-" They don't
mean it-they don't know any better."
III. The examination of the roots of
Moral Power, pp. 145-149, is a summary of
what is afterwards developed with utmost
care in my inaugural lecture at Oxford on
the relation of Art to Morals; compare in
that lecture, 83-85, with the sentence in
p. 147 of this book, "Nothing is ever done
so as really to please our Father, unless we
would also have done it, though we had had
no Father to know of it."
This sentence, however, it must be ob-
served, regards only the general conditions
of action in the children of God, in con-
sequence of which it is foretold of them by
Christ that they will say at the Judgment,
"When saw we thee ?" It does not refer to
the distinct cases in which virtue consists
in faith given to command, appearing to
foolish human judgment inconsistent with
the Moral Law, as in the sacrifice of Isaac;
nor to those in which any directly-given
command requires nothing more of virtue
than obedience.
IV. The subsequent pages, 149-158, were
written especially to check the dangerous im-
pulses natural to the minds of many amiable
young women, in the direction of narrow and
selfish religious sentiment : and they contain,
therefore, nearly everything which I believe

x 'We(re to the ,aol (4itiotn.

it necessary that young people should be
made to observe, respecting the errors of
monastic life. But they in nowise enter on
the reverse, or favorable side: of which
indeed I did not, and as yet do not, feel
myself able to speak with any decisiveness;
the evidence on that side, as stated-in the
text, having never yet been dispassionately
V. The dialogue with Lucilla, beginning
at p. 96, is, to my own fancy, the best bit of
conversation in the book; and the issue of
it, at p. 103, the most practically and im-
mediately useful. For on the idea of the
inevitable weakness and corruption of
human nature, has logically followed, in
our daily life, the horrible creed of modern
"Social science," that all social action
must be scientifically founded on vicious
impulses. But on the habit of measuring and
reverencing our powers and talents that we
may kindly use them, will be founded a true
Social science, developing, by the employ-
ment of them, .all the real powers and
honorable feelings of the race.
VI. Finally, the account given in the sec-
ond and third lectures, of the real nature and
marvelousness of the laws of crystallization,
is necessary to the understanding of what
farther teaching of the beauty of inorganic
form I may be able to give, either in "Deu-
calion," or in my "Elements of Drawing."

r'faccr to thlte cotd editionn. xi

I wish however that the second lecture had
been made the beginning of the book; and
would fain now cancel the first altogether,
which I perceive to be both obscure and
dull. It was meant for a metaphorical
description of the pleasures and dangers in
the kingdom of Mammon, or of worldly
wealth; its waters mixed with blood, its
fruits entangled in thickets of trouble, and
poisonous when gathered; and the final
captivity of its inhabitants within frozen
walls of cruelty and disdain. But the
imagery is stupid and ineffective throughout;
and I retain this chapter only because I am
resolved to leave no room for any one to say
that I have withdrawn, as erroneous in
principle, so much asa single sentence of any
of my books written since 186o.
One license taken in this book, however,
though often permitted to essay-writers for
the relief of their dullness, I never mean
to take more,-the relation of composed
metaphor as of actual dream, pp. 27 and 171.
I assumed, it is true, that in these places
the supposed dream would be easily seen to
be an invention; but must not any more,
even under so transparent disguise, pre-
tend to any share in the real powers of
Vision possessed by great poets and true
Ioth/ October, 1877.


THE following lectures were really given,
in substance, at a girls' school (far in the
country); which, in the course of various
experiments on the possibility of introduc-
ing some better practice of drawing into the
modern scheme of female education, I
visited frequently enough to enable the
children to regard me as a friend. The
Lectures always fell more or less into the
form of fragmentary answers to questions ;
and they are allowed to retain that form,
as, on the whole, likely to be more interest-
ing than the symmetries of a continuous
treatise. Many children (for the school
was large) took part, at different times, in
the conversations; but I have endeavored,
without confusedly multiplying the number
of imaginary* speakers, to represent, as far

I do not mean, in saying "imaginary," that I have
not permitted to myself, in several instances, the
affectionate discourtesy of some reminiscence of
personal character; for which I must hope to be for-
given by my old pupils and their friends, as I could

as I could, the general tone of comment
and inquiry among young people.
It will be at once seen that these Lectures
were not intended for an introduction to
mineralogy. Their purpose was merely
to awaken in the minds of young girls, who
were ready to work earnestly and system-
atically, a vital interest in the subject of
their study. No science can be learned in
play; but it is often possible, in play, to
bring good fruit out of past labor, or show
sufficient reasons for the labor of the
The narrowness of this aim does not, in-
deed, justify the absence of all reference to
many important principles of structure, and
many of the most interesting orders of
minerals; but I felt it impossible to go far
into detail without illustrations; and if
readers find this book useful, I may, per-
haps, endeavor to supplement it by illus-
trated notes of the more interesting phenom-
ena in separate groups of familiar minerals;
-flints of the chalk ;-agates of the basalts;
-and the fantastic and exquisitely beauti-
ful varieties of the vein-ores of the two
commonest metals, lead and iron. But I
have always found that the less we speak
of our intentions, the more chance there is
not otherwise have written the book at all. But only
two sentences in all the dialogues, and the anecdote
of Dotty," are literally "historical."


of our realizing them; and this poor little
book will sufficiently have done its work,
for the present, if it engages any of its
young readers in study which may enable
them to despise it for its shortcomings.
Christmas, 1865.

Lecture 1.


A very idle talk, by the dining-room fire, after raisin-
and-almond time.

OLD LECTURER (L.). Come here, Isabel, and
tell me what the make-believe was, this
ISABEL (arranging herself very primly on
the foot-stool). Such a dreadful one!
Florrie and I were lost in the Valley of
L. What I Sindbad's, which nobody could
get out of?
ISABEL. Yes ; but Florrie and I got out of it.
L. So I see. At least, I see you did; but
are you sure Florrie did?
ISABEL. Quite sure.
FLORRIE (P puing her head round from be-

4 Thre t1iE of Ovtlle MUtA

hind L.'s sofa-cushion). Quite sure. (Dis-
appears again.)
L. I think I could be made to feel surer
about it.
(FLORRIE reappears, gives L. a kiss, and
again exile )
L. I suppose it's all right; but how did
you manage it?
ISABEL. Well, you know, the eagle that
took up Sindbad was very large-very, very
large-the largest of all the eagles.
L. How large were the others ?
ISABEL. I don't quite know-they were so
far off. But this one was, oh, so big and
it had great wings, as wide as-twice over
the ceiling. So, when it was picking up
Sindbad, Florrie and I thought it wouldn't
know if we got on its back too : so I got up
first, and then I pulled up Florrie, and we
put our arms round its neck, and away it flew.
L. But why did you want to get out of the
valley? and why haven't you brought me
some diamonds ?
ISABEL. It was because of the serpents. I
couldn't pick up even the least little bit of a
diamond, I was so frightened.
L. You should not have minded the ser-
ISABEL. Oh, but suppose that they had
minded me?
L. We all of us mind you a little too
much, Isabel, I'm afraid.

ISABEL. No-no-no, indeed.
L. I'tell you what, Isabel-I don't believe
either Sindbad, or Florrie, or you, ever were
in the Valley of Diamonds.
ISABEL. You naughty when I tell you we
were 1
L. Because you say you were frightened
at the serpents.
ISABEL. And wouldn't you have been?
L. Not at those serpents. Nobody who
really goes into the valley is ever frightened
at them-they are so beautiful.
ISABEL (suddenly serious). But there's no
real Valley of Diamonds, is there ?
L. Yes, Isabel; very real indeed.
FLORRIE (reappearing). Oh, where? Tell
me about it.
L. I cannot tell you a great deal about it;
only I know it is very different from Sind-
bad's. In his valley, there was only a dia-
mond lying here and there; but, in the real
valley, there are diamonds covering the
grass in showers every morning, instead of
dew : and there are clusters of trees, which
look like lilac trees ; but, in spring, all their
blossoms are of amethyst.
FLORRIE. But there can't be any serpents
there, then ?
L. Why not ?
FLORRIE. Because they don't come into
such beautiful places.
L. I never said it was a beautiful place.

6 191 1f icid' of Mtv MlOt.

FLORRIE.- What not with diamonds
strewed about it like dew?
L. That's according to your fancy, Flor-
rie. For myself, I like dew better.
ISABEL. Oh, but the dew won't stay ; it all
dries !
L. Yes; and it would be much nicer if
the diamonds dried too, for the people in the
valley have to sweep them off the grass, in
heaps, whenever they want to walk on it;
and then the heaps glitter so, they hurt one's-
FLORRIE. Now you're just playing, you
L. So are you, you know.
FLORRIE. Yes, but you mustn't play.
L. That's very hard, Florrie ; why mustn't
I, if you may ?
FLORRIE. Oh, I may, because I'm little,
but you mustn't, because you're-(hesitates
for a delicate expression of magnitude).
L. (rudely taking the first that comes).
Because I'm big? No; that's not the way
of it at all, Florrie. Because you're little,
you should have very little play; and
because I'm big I should have a great
ISABEL and FLORRIE (both). No-no-no
-no. That isn't it at all. (ISABEL sola,
quoting Miss Ingelow.) "The lambs play
always-they know no better." (Putting
her head very much on one side.) Ah, now

-please-please-tell us true; we want to
L. But why do you want me to tell you
true, any more than the man who wrote the
"Arabian Nights" ?
ISABEL. Because-because we like to know
about real things ; and you can tell us, and
we can't ask the man who wrote the stories.
L. What do you call real things ?
ISABEL. Now, you know! Things that
really are.
L. Whether you can see them or not?
ISABEL. Yes, if somebody else saw them.
L. But if nobody has ever seen them ?
ISABEL (evading the point). Well, but, you
know, if there were a real Valley of Dia-
monds, somebody must have seen it.
L. You cannot be so sure of that, Isabel.
Many people go to real places, and never
see them; and many people pass through
this valley, and never see it.
FLORRIE. What stupid people they must
L. No, Florrie. They are much wiser
than the people who do see it.
MAY. I think I know where it is.
ISABEL. Tell us more about it, and then
we'll guess.
L. Well. There's a great broad road, by
a river-side, leading up into it.
MAY (gravely cunning, withg emphasis on
the lastword). Does the road really go up?

91te $all V A O 11 of r 81

8 -9tv (6t0ldi rf tMe Aut.

L. You think it should go down into a
valley? No, it goes up; this is a valley
among the hills, and it is as high as the
clouds, and is often full of them; so that
even the people who most want to see it,
cannot, always.
ISABEL. And what is the river beside the
road like ?
L. It ought to be -very beautiful, because
it flows over diamond sand-only the water
is thick and red.
ISABEL. Red water ?
L. It isn't all water.
MAY. Oh, please never mind that, Isabel,
just now; I want to hear about the valley.
L. So the entrance to it is very wide,
under a steep rock; only such numbers of
people are always trying to get in, that they
keep jostling each other, and manage it but
slowly. Some weak ones are pushed back,
and never get in at all; and make great
moaning as they go away: but perhaps
they are none the worse in the end.
MAY. And when one gets in, what is it
like ?
L. It is up and down, broken kind of
ground: the road stops directly; and there
are great dark rocks, covered all over with
wild gourds and wild vines; the gourds, if
you cut them, are red, with black seeds,
like water-melons, and look ever so nice;
and the people of the place make a red pot-

tage of them: but you must take care not to
eat any if you ever want to leave the valley
(though I believe putting plenty of meal in
it makes it wholesome). Then the wild
vines have clusters of the color of amber;
and the people of the country say they are
the grape of Eshcol; and sweeter than
honey : but, indeed, if anybody else tastes
them, they are like gall. Then there are
thickets of bramble, so thorny that they
would be cut away directly, anywhere else;
but here they are covered with little cinque-
foiled blossoms of pure silver; and, for
berries, they have clusters of rubies. Dark
rubies, which you only see are red after
gathering them. But you may fancy what
blackberry parties the children have Only
they get their frocks and hands sadly torn.
LILY. But rubies can't spot one's frocks,
as blackberries do?
L. No; but I'll tell you what spots them
-the mulberries. There are great forests
of them, all up the hills, covered with silk-
worms, some munching the leaves so loud
that it is like mills at work; and some
spinning. But the berries are the blackest
you ever saw; and, wherever they fall, they
stain a deep red; and nothing ever washes
it out again. And it is their juice, soaking
through the grass, which makes the river so
red, because all its springs are in this wood.
And the boughs of the trees are twisted, as

zhe Valiq of _:TIL1111011(1.

1o gut thicot dfliv autt.

if in pain, like old olive branches ; and their
leaves are dark. And it is in these forests
that the serpents are; but nobody is afraid
of them. They have fine crimson crests,
and they are wreathed about the wild
branches, one in every tree, nearly; and
they are singing serpents, for the serpents
are, in this forest, what birds are in ours.
FLORRIE. Oh, I don't want to go there at
all, now.
L. You would like it very much indeed,
Florrie, if you were there. The serpents
would not bite you; the only fear would be
of your turning into one I
FLORRIE. Oh, dear, but that's worse.
L. You wouldn't think so if you really
were turned into one, Florrie; you would
be very proud of your crest. And as long
as you were yourself (not that you could get
there if you remained quite the little Florrie
you are now), you would like to hear the
serpents sing. They hiss a little through it,
like the cicadas in Italy ; but they keep good
time, and sing delightful melodies ; and
most of them have seven heads, with throats
which each take a note of the octave; so
that they can sing chords-it is very fine
indeed. And the fireflies fly round the edge
of the forests all the night long; you wade
in fireflies, they make the fields look like a
lake trembling with reflection of stars; but
you must take care not to touch them, for

they are not like Italian fireflies, but burn,
like real sparks.
FLORRIE. I don't like it at all; I'll never
go there.
L. I hope not, Florrie; or at least that
you will get out again if you do. And it is
very difficult to get out, for beyond these
serpent forests there are great cliffs of dead
gold, which form a labyrinth, winding al-
ways higher and higher, till the gold is all
split asunder by wedges of ice ; and glaciers,
welded, half of ice seven times frozen, and
half of gold seven times frozen, hang down
from them, and fall in thunder, cleaving into
deadly splinters, like the Cretan arrowheads ;
and into a mixed dust of snow and gold, pon-
derous, yet which the mountain whirlwinds
are able to lift and drive in wreaths and
pillars, hiding the paths with a burial cloud,
fatal at once with wintry chill, and weight
of golden ashes. So the wanderers in the
labyrinth fall, one by one, and are buried
there :-yet, over the drifted graves, those
who are spared climb to the last, through
coil on coil of the path ;-for at the end of
it they see the king of the valley, sitting on
his throne : and beside him (but it is only a
false vision), spectra of creatures like them-
selves, sit on thrones, from which they
seem to look down on all the kingdoms
of the world, and the glory of them. And
on the canopy of his throne there is an in-

i3 'gt C-0ir1.5 of thi P~t,

scription in fiery letters, which they strive to
read, but cannot; for it is written-in words
which are like the words of all languages,
and yet are of none. Men say it is more like
their own tongue to the English than it is to
any other nation; but the only record of it
is by an Italian, who heard the king himself
cry it as a war cry, Pape Satan, Pape Satan
Aleppe." *
SIBYL. But do they all perish there? You
said there was a way through the valley,
and out of it.
L. Yes; but few find it. If any of them
keep to the grass paths, where the diamonds
are swept aside; and hold their hands over
their eyes so as not to be dazzled, the grass
paths lead forward gradually to a place
where one sees a little opening in the golden
rocks. You were at Chamouni last year,
Sibyl; did your guide chance to show you
the pierced rock of the Aiguille du Midi?
SIBYL. No, indeed, we only got up from
Geneva on Monday night; and it rained all
Tuesday; and we had to be back at Geneva
again, early on Wednesday morning.
L. Of course. That is the way to see a
country in a Sibylline manner, by inner
consciousness : but you might have seen the
pierced rock in your drive up, or down, if
the clouds broke: not that there is much to

* Dante, Inf. 7, I.

g 4 0k TATUMf 4iaMOUxn4#.

see in it; one of the crags of the aiguille-
edge, on the southern slope of it, is struck
sharply through, as by an awl, into a little
eyelet hole; which you may see, .seven
thousand feet above the valley (as the clouds
flit past behind it, or leave the sky), first
white, and then dark blue. Well, there's
just such an eyelet hole in one of the-upper
crags of the Diamond Valley ; and, from a
distance, you think that it is no bigger than
the eye of a needle. But if you get up to it,
they say you may drive a loaded camel
through it, and that there are fine things on
the other side, but I have never spoken with
anybody who had been through.
SIBYL. I think we understand it now. We
will try to write it down, and think of it.
L. Meantime, Florrie, though all that I
have been telling you is very true, yet you
must not think the sort of diamonds that
people wear in rings and necklaces are
found lying about on the grass. Would you
like to see how they really are found ?
FLORRIE. Oh, yes-yes.
L. Isabel-or Lily-run up to my room
and fetch me the little box with a glasslid,
out of the top drawer of the chest of drawers.
(Race between LILY and ISABEL.)
(Re-enter ISABEL with the box, very much
out of breath. LILY behind.)
L. Why, you never can beat Lily in a race
on the stairs, can you, Isabel ?

14 Vxt te hirm orh t 'a ngf

ISABEL (panting). Lily-beat me-ever so
far-but she gave me-the box-to carry-in.
L. Take off the lid, then ; gently.
FLORRIE '(after peeping in, disappointed).
There's only a great ugly brown stone !
L. Not much more than that, certainly,
Florrie, if people were wise. But look, it is
not a single stone; but a knot of pebbles
fastened together by gravel : and in the
gravel, or compressed sand, if youlook close,
you will see grains of gold glittering every-
where, all through; and then, do you see
these two white beads, which shine, as if
they had been covered with grease?
FLORRIE. May I touch them?
L. Yes; you will find they are not greasy,
only very smooth. Well, those are the fatal
jewels; native here in their dust with gold,
so that you may see, cradled here together,
the two great enemies of mankind,-the
strongest of all malignant physical powers
that have tormented our race.
SIBYL. Is that really so? I know they do
great harm; but do they not also do great
L. My dear child, what good? Was any
woman, do you suppose, ever the better for
possessing diamonds? but how many have
been made base, frivolous, and miserable by
desiring them? Was ever man the better
for having coffers full of gold? But who
shall measure the guilt that is incurred to fill

it? flie ao .,a iAZA.e 15

them ? Look into the history of any civil-
ized nations ; analyze, with reference to this
one cause of crime and misery, the lives and
thoughts of their nobles, priests, merchants,
and men of luxurious life. Every other
temptation is at last concentrated into this :
pride, and lust, and envy, and anger all give
up their strength to avarice. The sin of the
whole world is essentially the sin of Judas.
Men do not disbelieve their Christ; but
they sell Him.
SIBYL. But surely that is the fault of human
nature ? it is not caused by the accident, as
it were, of there being a pretty metal, like
gold, to be found by digging. If people
could not find that, would they not find
something else, and quarrel for it instead ?
L. No. Wherever legislators have suc-
ceeded in excluding, for a time, jewels and
precious metals from among national pos-
sessions, the national spirit has remained
healthy. Covetousness is not natural to man
-generosity is; but covetousness must be
excited by a special cause, as a given disease
by a given miasma; and the essential nature
of a material for the excitement of covetous-
ness is, that it shall be a beautiful thing
which can be retained without a use. The
moment we can use our possessions to any
good purpose ourselves, the instinct of com-
municating that use to others rises side by
side with our power. If you can read a

16 lte (OtLMi a the ihul.

book rightly, you will want others to hear'
it; if you can enjoy a picture rightly, you
will want others to see it: learn how to
manage a horse, a plough, or a ship, and
you will desire to make your subordinates
good horsemen, ploughmen, or sailors; you
will never be able to see the fine instrument
you are master of, abused; but, once fix
your desire on anything useless, and all the
purest pride and folly in your heart will mix
with the desire, and make you at last wholly
inhuman, a mere ugly lump of stomach and
suckers, like a cuttle-fish.
SIBYL. But surely, these two beautiful
things, gold and diamonds, must have been
appointed to some good purpose ?
L. Quite conceivably so, my dear: as
also earthquakes and pestilences; but of
such ultimate purposes we can have no sight.
The practical, immediate office of the earth-
quake and pestilence is to slay us, like moths;
and, as moths, we shall be wise to live out
of their way. So, the practical, immediate
office of gold and diamonds is the multi-
plied destruction of souls (in whatever sense
you have been taught to understand that
phrase); and the paralysis of wholesome
human effort and thought on the face of
God's earth: and a wise nation will live out
of the way of them. The money which the
English habitually spend in cutting diamonds
would, in ten years, if it were applied to

Ute o i ott. 17

cutting rocks instead, leave no dangerous
reef nor difficult harbor round the whole
island coast. Great Britain would be a dia-
mond worth cutting, indeed, a true piece of
regalia. (Leaves this to their thoughtsfor a
little while.) Then, also, we poor mineralo-
gists might sometimes have the chance of
seeing a fine crystal of diamond unhacked
by the jeweler.
SIBYL. Would it be more beautiful uncut ?
L. No; but of infinite interest. We might
even come to know something about the
making of diamonds.
SIBYL. I thought the chemists could make
them already ?
L. In very small black crystals, yes; but
no one knows how they are formed where
they are found ; or if indeed they are formed
there at all. These, in my hand, look as if
they had been swept down with the gravel
and gold ; only we can trace the gravel and
gold to their native rocks, but not the dia-
monds. Read the account given of the dia-
mond in any good work on mineralogy;-
you will find nothing but lists of localities of
gravel, or conglomerate rock (which is only
an old indurated gravel). Some say it was
once a vegetable gum ; but it may have been
charred wood; but what one would like to
know is, mainly, why charcoal should make
itself into diamonds in India, and only into
black lead in Borrowdale.

-x8 zlg ( tidrm of th

SIBYL- Are they wholly the same, then ?
L. There is a little iron mixed with our
black lead; but nothirig to hinder its crys-
tallization. Your pencils in fact are all
pointed with formless diamond, though they
would be H H H pencils to purpose, if it
SIBYL. But what is crystallization ?
L. A pleasant question, when one's half
asleep, and it has been tea-time these two
hours. What thoughtless things girls are !
SYBIL. Yes, we are; but we want to know,
for all that.
L. My dear, it would take a week to tell
SIBYL. Well, take it, and tell us.
L. But nobody knows anything about it.
SIBYL. Then tell us something that nobody
L. Get along with you, and tell Dora to
make tea.
(The house rises ; but of course the LEC-
TURER wanted to be forced to lecture
again, and was.)

Lecture 2.



In the large Schoolroom, to which everybody has been
summoned by ringing of the great bell.

L. So you have all actually come to hear
about crystallization! I cannot conceive
why, unless the little ones think that the
discussion may involve some reference to
(Symptoms ofhzigh displeasure among the
younger members of council. ISABEL
frowns severely at L., and shakes her
head violently.)
My dear children, if you knew it, you are
yourselves, at this moment, as you sit in
your ranks, nothing, in the eye of a miner-
alogist, but a lovely group of rosy sugar-
candy, arranged by atomic forces. And even
admitting you to be something more, you
have certainly been crystallizing without
knowing it. Did not I hear a great hurrying
and whispering, ten minutes ago, when you
were late in from the playground; and
thought you would not all be quietly seated

22 91Bt fltieB otfe htalt.

by the time I was leady :-besides some dis-
cussion about places-something about "'it's
not being fair that the little ones should
always be nearest? Well, you were then
all being crystallized. When you ran in from
the garden, and against one another in the
passages, you were in what mineralogists
would call a state of solution, and gradual
confluence; when you got seated in those
orderly rows, each in her proper place, you
became crystalline. That is just what the
atoms of a mineral do, if they can, when-
ever they get disordered: they get into
order again as soon as may be.
I hope you feel inclined to interrupt me,
and say, "But we know our places; how do
the atoms know theirs? And sometimes
we dispute about our places; do the atoms
-(and, besides, we don't like being com-
pared to atoms at all)-never dispute about
theirs?" Two wise questions these, if you
had a mind to put them it was long before
I asked them myself, of myself. And I will
not call you atoms any more. May I call
you-let me see-" primary molecules?"
(General dissent indicated in subdued but
decisive murmurs.) No not even, in fa-
miliar Saxon, dust"?
(Pause, with expression on faces of sor-
rowful doubt; LILY gives voice to the
general sentiment in a timid "Please

(75he gvaud LAW~ 23

No, children, I won't call you that; and
mind, as you grow up, that you do not get
into an idle and wicked habit of calling
yourselves that. You are something better
than dust, and have other duties to do than
ever dust can do; and the bonds of affec-
tion you will enter into are better than
merely "getting into order." But see to it, on
the other hand, that you always behave at
least as well as dust ; "remember, it is only
on compulsion, and while it has no free per-
mission to do as it likes, that it ever gets
out of order; but sometimes, with some of
us, the compulsion has to be the other way
-hasn't it? (Remonstratory whispers, ex-
pressive of opinion that the LECTURER is be-
coming too personal.) I'm not looking at
anybody in particular-indeed I am not.
Nay, if you blush so, Kathleen, how can
one help looking? We'll go back to the
How do they know their places? you
asked, or should have asked. Yes, and they
have to do much more than know them:
they have to find their way to them, and
that quietly and at once, without running
against each other.
We may, indeed, state it briefly thus :-
Suppose you have to build a castle, with
towers and roofs and buttresses, out of
bricks of a given shape, and that these
bricks are all lying in a huge heap at the

bottom, in utter confusion, upset out of
carts at random. You would have to draw
a. great many plans, and count all your
bricks, and be sure you had enough for
this and that tower, before you began, and
then you would have to lay your foun-
dation, and add layer by layer, in order,
But how would you be astonished, in
these melancholy days, when children don't
read children's books, nor believe any more
in fairies, if suddenly a real benevolent
fairy, in a bright brick-red gown, were to
rise in the midst of the red bricks, and to
tap the heap of them with her wand, and
say, Bricks, bricks, to your places and
then you saw in an instant the whole heap
rise in the air, like a swarm of red bees,
and-you have been used to see bees make
a honeycomb, and to think that strange
enough, but now you would see the honey-
comb make itself !-You want to ask
something, Florrie, by the look of your
FLORRIE. Are they turned into real bees,
with stings ?
L. No, Florrie; you are only to fancy
.flying bricks, as you saw the slates flying
from the roof the other day in the storm;
only those slates didn't seem to know where
they were going, and, besides, were going
where they had no business : but my spell-

24 '011C 49hir.s' -of Ott Anfit,

Ztv V1raniid 3uildnrrL 25

bound bricks, though they have no wings,
and what is worse, no heads and no eyes,
yet find their way in the air just where they
should settle, into towers and roofs, each
flying to his place and fastening there at the
right moment, so that every other one shall
fit to him in his turn.
LILY. But who are the fairies, then, who
build the crystals ?
L. There is one great fairy, Lily, who
builds much more than crystals; but she
builds these also. I dreamed that I saw her
building a pyramid, the other day, as she
used to do, for the Pharaohs.
ISABEL. But that was only a dream?
L. Some dreams are truer than some
wakings, Isabel; but I won't tell it you un-
less you like.
ISABEL. Oh, please, please.
L. You are all such wise children, there's
no talking to you,; you won't believe any-
LILY. No, we are not wise, and we will
believe anything, when you say we ought.
L. Well, it came about this way. Sibyl,
do you recollect that evening when we had
been looking at your old cave by Cumas,
and wondering why you didn't live there
still : and then we wondered how old you
were; and Egypt said you wouldn't tell,
and nobody else could tell but she; and
you laughed-I thought very gayly for a

26 g (goSi Of t&< gMo.

Sibyl-and said you would harness a flock
of cranes for us, and we might fly over to
Egypt if we liked, and see.
SIBYL. Yes, and you went, and couldn't
find out after all!
L. Why, you know, Egypt had been just
doubling that third pyramid of hers; and
making a new entrance into it; and a fine
entrance it was! First, we had to go
through an ante-room, which had both its
doors blocked up with stones; and then we
had three granite portcullises to pull up,
one after another; and the moment we had
got under them, Egypt signed to somebody
above; and down they came again behind
us, with a roar like thunder, only louder;
then we got. into a passage fit for nobody
but rats, and Egypt wouldn't go any further
herself, but said we might go on if we
liked; and so we came to a hole in the
pavement, and then to a granite trap-door
-and then we thought we had gone quite
far enough, and came back, and Egypt
laughed at us.
EGYPT. You would not have had me take
my crown off, and stoop all the way down
a passage fit only for rats ?
L. It was not the crown, Egypt-you
know that very well. It was the flounces
that would not let you go any further. I

Note i.

Thv niiami itidrrh'. 27

suppose, however, you wear them as typical
of the inundation of the Nile, so it is all
ISABEL. Why didn't you take me with
you? Where rats can go, mice can. I
wouldn't have come back.
L. No, mousie; you would have gone on
by yourself, and you might have waked
one of Pasht's cats,* and it would have
eaten you. I was very glad you were not
there. But after all this, I suppose the im-
agination of the heavy granite blocks and
the underground ways had troubled me, and
dreams are often shaped in a strange op-
position to the impressions that have caused
them; and from all that we had been read-
ing in Bunsen about stones that couldn't be
lifted with levers, I began to dream about
stones that lifted themselves with wings,
SIBYL. Now you must just tell us all
about it.
L. I dreamed that I was standing beside
the lake, out of whose clay the bricks were
made for the great pyramid of Asychis.t
They had just been all finished, and were
lying by the lake margin, in long ridges,
like waves. It was near evening; and as I
looked towards the sunset, I saw a thing
like a dark pillar standing where the rock of
the desert stoops to the Nile valley. I did

* Note iii.

t Note ii.

z8 le Cthir.' of th itA6.

not know there was a pillar there, and
wondered at it; and it grew larger, and
glided nearer, becoming like the form of a
man, but vast, and it did not move its feet,
but glided, like a pillar of sand.. And as it
drew nearer, I looked by chance past it,
towards the sun ; and-saw- a silver cloud,
which was of all the clouds closest to thesun
.(and in one place crossed it), draw itself back
from the sun, suddenly. And it turned, and
shot towards the dark pillar; leaping in an
arch, like an arrow out of a bow. And I
thought it was lightning ; but when it came
near the shadowy pillar, it sank slowly
down beside it, and changed into -the
shape of a woman, very beautiful, and with
a strength of deep calm in her blue eyes.
She was' robed to the feet with a white robe;
and above that, to her knees, by the cloud
.which I had seen across the sun ; but all
the golden ripples of it had become, plumes,
so that it had changed into two bright wings
like those of a vulture, which wrapped round
her to her knees. She had a weaver's shuttle
hanging over her shoulder, by the thread of
it, and in her left hand, arrows,.tipped with
ISABEL (clapping her hands). Oh! it was
Neith, it was Neith I know now.
L. Yes; it was Neith herself; and as the
two great spirits came nearer to me, I saw
they were the Brother and Sister--the pil-

ght Pgramidl Z9(W 2?

lared shadow was the Greater Pthah;'* And
I heard them speak,' and the sound of their
words was like a" distant singing. I could
not understand the words one by one ; yet
their sense came to me; and so.I knew that
Neith had come down to see her brother's
work, and the work that he had put into the
mind of the king to make his servants do.
And she was displeased at- it; because she
saw only pieces of dark clay; and no por-
phyry, nor marble, nor any fair stone that
men might engrave the figures of the: gods
upon. And she blamed- her brother, and
said,: "Oh, Lord of truth is this then thy
will, that men should mold only four-
square pieces of clay: and the forms of the
gods no more?" Then the Lord of truth
sighed, and said, "Oh sister, in truth they
do not love us; why should they set up our
images ? Let them do what they may, and
not lie-let them make their clay four-
square; and labor; and perish."
Then Neith's dark blue eyes grew darker,
and she :said, "Oh, Lord of truth! why
should they love us ? their love is vain ; or
fear us ? for their fear is base. Yet let them
testify of us, that they knew we lived for-
But the Lord of truth answered, "They
know, and yet they know not. Let them
keep silence ; for their silence only is truth."
Note iii.

30 ght 60do of% ~ tht a u

But Neith answered, "Brother, wilt thou
also make league with Death, because Death
,is true? Oh! thou potter, who hast cast
' .V thesee human things from. thy wheel, many
. ,!io dishonor, and few to honor; wilt thou
' '/ jjnot let them so much as see my face; but
S slay them in slavery?"
S But Pthah only answered, "Let them
build, sister, let them build."
And Neith answered, "What shall they
build, if I build not with them ? "
And Pthah drew with his measuring rod
upon the sand. And I saw suddenly, drawn
on the sand, the outlines of great cities, and
of vaults, and domes, and aqueducts, and
bastions, and towers, greater than obelisks,
covered with black clouds. And the wind
blew ripples of sand amidst the lines that
Pthah drew, and the moving sand was like
the marching of men. But I saw that wher-
ever Neith looked at the lines, they faded,
and were effaced.
"Oh, Brother!" she said at last, "what
is this vanity ? If I, who am Lady of wis-
dom, do not mock the children of men, why
shouldst thou mock them, who art Lord
of truth?" But Pthah answered, "They
thought to bind me; and they shall be bound.
They shall labor in the fire for vanity."
And Neith said, looking at the sand,
"Brother, there is no true labor here-there
is only weary life and wasteful death."

C5it LVt8tVA i 4 uilt1rr.S; 31

And Pthah answered, "Is it not truer
labor, sister, than thy sculpture of dreams ? "
Then Neith smiled; and stopped sud-
She looked to the sun ; its edge touched
the horizon-edge of the desert. Then she
looked to the long heaps of pieces of clay,
that lay, each with its blue shadow, by the
lake shore.
Brother," she said, "how long will this
pyramid of thine be in building ? "
Thoth will have sealed the scroll of the
years ten times, before the summit is laid. "
"Brother, thou knowest not how to teach
thy children to labor," answered Neith.
" Look I must follow Phre beyond Atlas;
shall I build your pyramid for you before he
goes down?" And Pthah answered, "Yea,
sister, if thou canst put thy winged shoulders
to such work." And Neith drew herself to
her height; and I heard a clashing pass
through the plumes of her wings, and the
asp stood up on her helmet, and fire gath-
ered in her eyes. And she took one of the
flaming arrows out of the sheaf in her left
hand, and stretched it out over the heaps of
clay. And they rose up like flights of
locusts, and spread themselves in the air,
so that it grew dark in a moment. Then
Neith designed them places with her arrow
point; and they drew into ranks, like dark
clouds laid level at morning. Then Neith

32 gut dfu to of Ott anit.

pointed with her arrow to the north, and to
the-south, and to the east, and to the west,
and the flying motes of earth drew asunder
into four great ranked crowds ; and stood,
one in the north, and .one in the south, and
ope in the east, and one in the west-one
against another. Then Neith spread her
wings wide for an instant, and closed, them
with a sound like the sound of a rushing
sea; and waved her hand towards the
foundation of the pyramid, where it was
laid on the brow of the desert. And the
four flocks drew together and sank down,
like sea-birds settling to a level rock, and
when they met, there was a sudden flame,
as broad as the pyramid, and as high as the
clouds; and it dazzled me; and I closed my
eyes for an instant; and when I looked
again, the pyramid stood on its rock, per-
fect; and purple with the light from the
edge of the sinking sun.
STHE YOUNGER CHILDREN (variously pleased).
I'm so glad I How nice! But what did
Pthah say ?
L. Neith did not wait to hear what he
would say. When I turned back to look at
her, she was gone; and I only saw the
level white cloud form itself again, close to
the arch of the sun as it sank. And as the
last edge of the sun disappeared, the form
of Pthah faded into a mighty shadow, and
so passed away.

$te iramid guilder'. 33

EGYPT. And was Neith's pyramid left?
L. Yes ; but you could not think, Ekvgypt.
what a .strange feeling of utter loneliness
came over me when the presence of the two
gods passed away. It seemed as if I had
never known what it was to be alone before ;
and the unbroken line of the desert was
EGYPT. I used to feel that, when I was
queen': sometimes I had to carve gods, for
company, all over my palace. I would fain
have seen real ones, if I could.
L. But listen.a moment yet, for that was
not quite all my dream. The twilight drew
swiftly to the dark, and I could hardly see
the great pyramid; when there came a
heavy murmuring sound in the air; and a
horned beetle, with terrible claws, fell on
the sand at my feet, with a blow like the
beat of a hammer. Then it stood up on its
hind claws, and wayed its pincers at me:
and its fore claws became strong arms, and
hands; one grasping real iron pincers, and
the other a huge hammer; and it had a hel-
met on its head, without any eyelet holes,
that I could see. And its two hind claws
became strong crooked legs, with feet'bent
inwards. And so there stood by me a
dwarf, in glossy black armor, ribbed and
embossed like a beetle's back, leaning on
his hammer. And I could not speak for
wonder; but he spoke with a murmur like

34 ;g 9t h tir of tft 3!uort.

the dying away of a beat upon a bell. He
said, "I will make Neith's great pyramid
small. I am the lower Pthah; and have
power over fire. I can wither the strong
things, and strengthen the weak; and every-
thing that is great I can make small, and
everything that is little I can make great."
Then he turned to the angle of the pyramid
and limped towards it. And the pyramid
grew deep purple; and then red like blood,
and then pale rose-color, like fire. And I
saw that it glowed with fire from within.
And the lower Pthah touched it with the
hand that held the pincers; and it sank
down like the sand in an hour-glass,-then
drew itself together, and sank, still, and
became nothing, it seemed to me; but the
armed dwarf stooped down, and took it into
his hand, and brought it to me, saying,
"Everything that is great I can make like
this pyramid; and give into men's hands to
destroy." And I saw that he had a little
pyramid in his hand, with as many courses
in it as the large one; and built like that,-
only so-small. And because it glowed still,
I was afraid to touch it ; but Pthah said,
" Touch it-for I have bound the fire within
it, so that it cannot burn." So I touched it,
and took it into my own hand; and it was
cold ; only red, like a ruby. And Pthah
laughed, and became like a beetle again,
and buried himself in the sand, fiercely ;


lut faumii 0g4iU4f.. 35

throwing it back over his shoulders. And it
seemed to me as if he would draw me down
with him into the sand; and I started back,
and woke, holding the little pyramid so fast
in my hand that it hurt me.
EGYPT. Holding WHAT in your hand ?
L. The little pyramid.
EGYPT. Neith's pyramid?
L. Neith's, I believe; though not built for
Asychis. I know only that it is a little rosy
transparent pyramid, built of more courses
of bricks than I can count, it being made so
small. You don't believe me, of course,
Egyptian infidel; but there it is. (Giving
crystal of rose Fluor. )
(Confused examination by crowded audience,
over each other's shoulders and under each
'other's arms. Disappointment begins to man-
/fest itself )
SIBYL (not quite knowing why she and
others are disappointed). But you showed
us this the other day '
L. Yes; but you would not look at it the
other day.
SIBYL. But was all that fine dream only
about this ?
L. What finer thing could a dream be
about than this? It is small, if you will;
but when you begin to think of things
rightly, the ideas of smallness and largeness
pass away. The making of this pyramid
was in reality just as wonderful as the dream

36 hte (tkiir of tft i ue t.

I have been telling you, and just as incom-
prehensible. It was not, I suppose, as
swift, but quite as grand things are done
as swiftly. When Neith makes crystals of
snow, it needs a great deal more marshal-
ing of the atoms, by her flaming arrows,
than it does to make crystals like this one;
and that is done in a moment.
EGYPT. But how you do puzzle us Why
do you say Neith does it ? You don't mean
that she is a real spirit, do you?
L. What I mean, is of little consequence.
What the Egyptians meant, who called her
"Neith,"-or Homer, who called her "Athe-
na,"-or Solomon, who called her by a word
which the Greeks render as Sophia," you
must judge for yourselves. But her testi-
mony is always the same, and all nations
have received it: "I was by Him as one
brought up with Him, and I was daily His
delight; rejoicing in the habitable parts of
the earth, and my delights were with the
sons of men."
MARY. But is not that only a personifica-
tion ?
L. If it be, what will you gain by unper-
sonifying it, or what right have you to do
so ? Cannot you accept the image given
you, in its life; and listen, like children, to
the words which chiefly belong to you as
children: "I love them that love me, and
those that seek me early shall find me ?

gut TgAMA Mt-Nd 37

(They are all quiet for a minute or two ;
questions begin to appear in lheir eyes.)
I cannot talk to you any more to-day.
Take that rose-crystal away with you, and

Lecture 3.



A very dull Lecture, willfully brought upon
themselves by the elder children. Some of
the young ones have, however, managed to
get in by mistake. SCENE, the Schoohloom.

L. So I am to stand up here merely to be
asked questions, to-day, Miss Mary, am I ?
MARY. Yes; and you must answer them
plainly; without telling us any more stories.
You are quite spoiling the children : the poor
little things' heads are turning round like
kaleidoscopes : and they don't know in the
least what you mean. Nor do we old ones,
either, for that matter: to-day you must
really tell us nothing but facts.
L. I am sworn; but you won't like it, a
MARY. Now, first of all, what do you mean
by "bricks" ?-Are the smallest particles of
minerals all of some accurate shape, like
bricks ?
L. I do not know, Miss Mary; I do not
even know if anybody knows. The small-

* *

42 nic gMth -or thte gt.

est atoms which are visibly and practically
put together to make large crystals, may
better be described as "limited in fixed direc-
tions" than as "of fixed forms." But I can
tell you nothing clear about ultimate atoms:
you will find the idea of little bricks, or, per-
haps, of little spheres, available for all the
uses you will have to put it to.
MARY. Well, it's very provoking; one
seems always to be stopped just when one
is coming to the very thing one wants to
L. No, Mary, for we should not wish to
know anything but what is easily and as-
suredly knowable. There's no end to it.
If I could show you, or myself, a group of
ultimate atoms, quite clearly, in this magni-
fying glass, we should both be presently
vexed, because we could not break them in
two pieces, and see their insides.
MARY. Well then, next, what do you mean
by the flying of the bricks ? What is it the
atoms do, that is like flying?
L. When they are dissolved, or uncrystal-
lized, they are really separated from each
other, like a swarm of gnats in the air, or
like a shoal of fish in the sea;-generally at
about equal distances. In currents of solu-
tions, or at different depths of them, one part
may be more full of the dissolved atoms than
another; but on the whole, you may think
of them as equidistant, like the spots in the

ThU eTrgel Ler. .43

print of your gown. If they are separated
by force of heat only, the substance is said
to be melted; if they are separated by any
other substance, as particles of sugar by
water, they are said to be "dissolved." Note
this distinction carefully, all of you.
.DORA. I will be very particular. When
next you tell me there isn't sugar enough in
your tea, I will say, "It is not yet dissolved,
L. I tell you what shall be dissolved, Miss
Dora; and that's the present parliament, if
the members get too saucy.
(DORA folds her hands and casis down her
L. (proceeds in stale). Now, Miss Mary,
you know already, I believe, that nearly
everything will melt, under a sufficient heat,
like wax. Limestone melts (under pres-
sure); sand melts; granite melts; the lava
of a volcano is a mixed mass of many kinds
of rocks, melted : and any melted substance
nearly always, if not always, crystallizes as
it cools ; the more slowly the more perfectly.
Water melts at what we call the freezing,
but might just as wisely, though not as con-
veniently, call the melting, point; and radi-
ates as it cools into the most beautiful of all
known crystals. Glass melts at a greater
heat, and will crystallize, if you let it
cool slowly enough, in stars, much like snow.
Gold needs more heat to melt it, but crystal-

lizes also exquisitely, as I will presently
show you. Arsenic and sulphur crystallize
from their vapors. Now in any ofthese cases,
either of melted, dissolved, or vaporous
bodies, the particles are usually separated
from each other, either by heat, or by an
intermediate substance; and in crystallizing
they are both brought nearer to each other,
and packed, so as to fit as closely as pos-
sible : the essential part of the business be-
ing not the bringing together, but the pack-
ing. Who packed your trunk for you, last
holidays, Isabel?
ISABEL. Lily does, always.
L. And how much can you allow for
Lily's good packing, in guessing what will
go into the trunk ?
ISABEL. Oh I bring twice as much as the
trunk holds. Lily always gets everything
LILY. Ah but, Isey, if you only knew
what a time it takes I and since you've had
those great hard buttons on your frocks, I
can't do anything with them. Buttons
won't go anywhere, you know.
L. Yes, Lily, it would be well if she only
knew what a time it takes; and I wish any
of us knew what a time crystallization takes,
for that is consummately fine packing. The
particles of the rock are thrown down, just
as Isabel brings her things-in a heap; and
innumerable Lilies, not of the valley, but of

44 9hre 6tthiro of the NO.lt

CO tS!tai Pfe. 45

the rock, come to pack them. But it takes
such a time 1
However, the best-out and out the best
-way of understanding the thing, is to
crystallize yourselves.
THE AUDIENCE. Ourselves !
L. Yes; not merely as you did the other
day, carelessly on the schoolroom forms;
but carefully and finely, out in the play-
ground. You can play at crystallization
there as much as you please.
KATHLEEN and JESSIE. Oh how ?-how ?
L. First, you must put yourselves together,
as close as you can, in the middle of the
grass, and form, forfirst practice, any figure
you like.
JESSIE. Any dancing figure, do you mean ?
L. No; I mean a square, or a cross, or a
diamond. Any figure you like, standing
close together. You had better outline it
first on the turf, with sticks, or pebbles, so
as to see that it is rightly drawn ; then get
into it and enlarge or diminish it at one side,
till you are all quite in it, and no empty
space left.
DORA. Crinoline and all?
L. The crinoline may stand eventually
for rough crystalline surface, unless you pin
it in; and then you may make a polished
crystal of yourselves.
LILY. Oh, we'll pin it in-we'll pin it in !
L. Then, when you are all in the figure,

46 fct (90to rof tht guot.

let every one note her place, and who is
next her on each side; and let the outsiders
count how many places they stand from the
KATHLEEN. Yes, yes,-and then ?
L. Then you must scatter all over the
playground-right over it from side to side,
and end to end; and put yourselves all at
equal distances from each other, everywhere.
You needn't mind doing it very accurately,
but so as to be nearly equidistant; not less
than about three yards apart from each
other, on every side.
JESSIE. We can easily cut pieces of string
of equal length, to hold. And then ?
L. Then, at a given signal, let everybody
walk, at the same rate, towards the outlined
figure in the middle. You had better sing
as you walk; that will keep you in good
time. And as you close in towards it, let
each take her place, and the next comers
fit themselves in beside the first ones, till
you are all in the figure again.
KATHLEEN. Oh how we shall run against
each other. What fun it will be !
L. No, no, Miss Katie; I can't allow any
running against each other. The atoms
never do that, whatever human creatures
do. You must all know your places, and
find your way to them without jostling.
LILY. But how ever shall we do that?
ISABEL. Mustn't the ones in the middle be

-- r '

91tv C{v \ iPiff. 47

the nearest, and the outside ones farther off
-when we go away to scatter, I mean ?
L. Yes; you must be very careful to keep
your order; you will soon find out how to do
it; it is only like soldiers forming square,
except that each must stand still in her
place as she reaches it,, and the others come
round her; and you will have much more
complicated figures, afterwards, to form,
than squares.
ISABEL. I'll put a stone at my place : then
I shall know it.
L. You might each nail a bit of paper to
the turf, at your place, with your name up-
on it : but it would be of no use, for if you
don't know your places, you will make a
fine piece of business of it, while you are
looking for your names. And, Isabel, if
with a little head, and eyes, and a brain (all
of them very good and serviceable of -their
kind, as such things go), you think you
cannot know your place without a stone at
it, after examining it well,-how do you
think each atom knows its place, when it
never was there before, and there's no stone
at it?
ISABEL. But does every atom know its
place ?
L. How else could it get there?
MARY. Are they not attracted into their
places ?
L. Cover a piece of paper with spots,

48 (Stjj. dk tht. aStug.

at equal intervals; and then imagine any
kind of attraction you choose, or any law of
attraction, to exist between the spots, and
try how, on that permitted supposition, you
can attract them into the figure of a Maltese
cross, in the middle of the paper.
MARY (having fried.il). Yes ; I see that I
cannot:-one would need all kinds of at-
tractions; in different ways, at different
places. But you do not mean that the
atoms are alive?
L. What is it to be alive ?
DORA. There now; you're going to be
provoking, I know.
L. I do not see why it should be provok-
ing to be asked what it is to be alive. Do
you think you don't know whether you are
alive or not ?
(ISABEL skips to the end of the room and
L. Yes, Isabel, that's all very fine; and
you and I may call that being alive : but a
modern philosopher calls it being in a
"mode of motion." It requires a certain
quantity of heat to take you to the side-
board; and exactly the same quantity to
bring you back again. That's all.
ISABEL. No, it isn't. And besides, I'm not
L. I am, sometimes, at the way they talk.
However, you know, Isabel, you might
have been a particle of a mineral, and yet

Zhe C~rij!5a1 xifrc. -

have been carried round the room, or any-
where else, by chemical forces, in the live-
liest way.
ISABEL. Yes; but I wasn't carried: I
carried myself.
L. The fact is, music, the difficulty is
not so much to say what makes a thing
alive, as what makes it a Self. As soon as
you are shut off from the rest of the universe
into a Self, you begin to be alive.
VIOLET (indignant). Oh, surely surely
that cannot be so. Is not all the life of the
soul'in communion, not separation ?
L. There can be no communion where
there is no distinction. But we shall be in
an abyss of metaphysics presently, if we
don't look out ; and besides, we must not be
too grand, to-day, for the younger children.
We'll be grand, some day, by ourselves, if
we must. (The younger children are not
pleased, and prepare to remonstrate; but, know-
ing by experience, that all conversations in
which the word communion occurs, are un-
intelhlgible, think belter of il.) Meantime, for
broad answer about the atoms. I do not
think we should use the word "'life," of any
energy which does not belong to a given
form. A seed, or an egg, or a young animal,
are properly called "alive with respect to
the force belonging to those forms, which
consistently develops that form, and no
other. But the force which crystallizes a

50 lg Cthwio of thtte A6t.

mineral appears to be chiefly external, and
it does not produce an entirely determinate
and individual form, limited -in size, but
only an aggregation, in which some limit-
ing laws must be observed.
MARY. But I do not see much difference,
that way, between a crystal and a tree.
L. Add, then, that the mode of the energy
in a living thing implies a continual change
in its elements; and a period for its end.
So you may define life by its attached nega-
tive, death; and still more by its attached
positive, birth. But I won't be plagued any
more about this, just now; if you choose
to think the crystals alive, do, and welcome.
Rocks have always been called "living in
their native place.
MARY. There's one question more; then
I've done.
L. Only one?
MARY. Only one.
L. But if it is answered, won't it turn into
two ?
MARY. No; I think it will remain single,
and be comfortable.
L. Let me hear it.
MARY. You know, we are to crystallize
ourselves out of the whole playground.
Now, what playground have the minerals !
Where are they scattered before they are
crystallized ; and where are the crystals
generally made ?

L. That sounds to me more like three
questions than one, Mary. If it is only
one, it is a wide one.
MARY. I did not say anything about the
width of it.
L. Well, I must keep it within the best
compass I can. When rocks either dry
from a moist- state, or cool from a heated
state, they necessarily alter in bulk; and
cracks, or open spaces, form in them in all
directions. These cracks must be filled up
with solid matter, or the rock would event-
ually become a ruinous heap. So, some-
times by. water, sometimes by vapor, some-
times nobody knows how, crystallizable
matter is brought from somewhere, and
fastens itself in these open spaces, so as to
bind the rock together again with crystal
cement. A vast quantity of hollows are
formed in lavas by bubbles of gas, just as
the holes are left in bread well baked. In
process of time these cavities are generally
filled with various crystals.
MARY. But where does the crystallizing
substance come from ?
L. Sometimes out of the rock itself;
sometimes from below or above, through
the veins. The entire substance of the con-
tracting rock may be filled with liquid,
pressed into it so as to fill every pore;-or
with mineral vapor;-or it may be so
charged at one place, and empty at another.

There's no end to the may be's." But all
that you need fancy, for our present purpose,
is that hollows in the rocks, like the caves
in Derbyshire, are traversed by liquids or
vapor containing certain elements in a
more or less free or separate state, which
crystallize on the cave walls.
SIBYL. There now;-Mary has had all
her questions answered: it's my turn to
have mine.
L. Ah, there's a conspiracy among you,
I see. I might have guessed as much.
DORA. I'm sure you ask us questions
enough How can you have the heart,
when you dislike so to be asked them your-
L. My dear child, if people do not an-
swer questions, it does not matter how many
they are asked, because they've no trouble
with them. Now, when I ask you ques-
tions, I never expect to be answered; but
when you ask me, you always do; and it's
not fair.
DORA. Very well, we shall understand,
next time.
SIBYL. No, but seriously, we all want to
ask one thing more, quite dreadfully.
L. And I don't want tp be asked it, quite
dreadfully; but you'll have your own way,
of course.
SIBYL. We none of us understand about
the lower Pthah. It was not merely yester-

52 ) 1tlT tx ut

day; but in all we have read about him in
Wilkinson, or in any book, we cannot un-
derstand what the Egyptians put their god
into that ugly little deformed shape for.
L. Well, I'm glad it's that sort of ques-
tion; because I can answer anything I like
to that.
EGYPT. Anything you like will do quite
well for us; we shall be pleased with the
answer, if you are.
L. I am not so sure of that, most gra-
cious queen ; for I must begin by the state-
ment that queens seem to have disliked all
sorts of work, in those days, as much as
some queens dislike sewing to-day.
EGYPT. Now, it's too bad and just when
I was trying to say the civillest thing I
could !
L. But, Egypt, why did you tell me you
disliked sewing so ?
EGYPT. Did not I show you how the
thread cuts my fingers? and I always get
cramp, somehow, in my neck, if I sew long.
L. Well, I suppose the Egyptian queens
thought everybody got cramp in their neck,
if they sewed long; and that thread always
cut people's fingers. At all events, every
kind of manual labor was despised both
by them, and the Greeks ; and, while they
owned the real good and fruit of it, they yet
held it a degradation to all who practiced it
Also, knowing the laws of life thoroughly,

Mir *Mgtal LEI M.

54 1SU Otldo oft ht Au t.

they perceived that the special practice
necessary to bring any manual art to per-
fection strengthened the body distortedly;
one energy or member gaining at the ex-
pense of the rest. They especially dreaded
and despised any kind of work that had to
be done near fire: yet, feeling what they
owed to it in metal-work, as the basis of all
other work, they expressed this mixed rever-
ence and scorn in the varied types of the
lame HephEestus, and the lower Pthah.
SIBYL. But what did you mean by making
him'say "Everything great I canmake small,
and everything small great"?
L. I had my own separate meaning in
that. We have seen in modern times the
power of the lower Pthah developed in a
separate way, which no Greek nor Egyptian
could have conceived. It is the character
of pure and eyeless manual labor to con-
ceive everything as subjected to it : and, in
reality, to disgrace and diminish all that is
so subjected, aggrandizing itself, and the
thought of itself, at the expense of all noble
things. I heard an orator, and a good one
too, at the Working Men's College, the other
day, make a great point in a description of our
railroads'; saying, with grandly conducted
emphasis, They have made man greater,
and the world less." His working audience
were mightily pleased; they thought it so
very fine a thing to be made bigger them-

selves ; and all the rest of the world less. I
should have enjoyed asking them (but it
would have been a pity-they were so
pleased), how much less they would like to
have the world made ;-and whether, at pres-
ent, those of them really felt the biggest men,
who lived in the least houses.
SIBYL. But then, why did you make Pthah
say that he could make weak things strong,
and small things great?
SL. My dear, he is a boaster and self-assert-
or, by nature; but it is so far true. For
instance, we used to have a fair in our neigh-
borhood a very fine fair we thought it.
You never saw such an one ; butif you look
at the engraving of Turner's "St. Catherine's
Hill," you will see what it was like. There
were curious booths, carried on poles; and
peep-shows ; and music, with plenty of drums
and cymbals; and much barley-sugar and
gingerbread, and the like : and in the alleys
of this fair the London populace would enjoy
themselves, after their fashion, very thor-
oughly. Well, the little Pthah set to work
upon it one day ; he made the wooden poles
into iron ones, and put them across, like his
own crooked legs, so that you always fall
over them if you don't look where you are
going; and he turned all the canvas into
panes of glass, and put it up on his iron
cross-poles; and made all the little booths
into one great booth;-and people said it

Z%5ht &Motal XM.

56 91le (9tfcr of 1r go rt.

was very fine, and a new style of architec-
ture; and Mr. Dickens said nothing was
ever like it in Fairy-land, which was very
true. And then the little Pthah set to work
to put fine fairings in it; and he painted the
Nineveh bulls afresh, with the blackest eyes
he could paint (because he had none him-
self), and he got the angels down from
Lincoln choir, and gilded their wings like
his gingerbread of old times; and he sent
for everything else he could think of, and
put it in his booth. There are the casts of
Niobe and her children; and the Chim-
panzee ; and the wooden Caffres and New-
Zealanders; and the Shakespeare House;
and Le Grand Blondin, and Le Petit Blondin;
and Handel; and Mozart; and no end of
shops, and buns, and beer; and all the little-
Pthah-worshippers say, never was anything
so sublime!
SIBYL. Now, do you mean to say you
never go to these Crystal Palace concerts ?
they're as good as good can be.
L. I don't go to the thundering things
with a million of bad voices in them.
When I want a song, I get Julia Mannering
and Lucy Bertram and Counselor Pleydell
to sing We be three poor Mariners to me;
then I've no headache next morning. But
I do go to the smaller concerts, when I can ;
for they are very good, as you say, Sibyl:
and I always get a reserved seat somewhere

. "- `:

ic< (gvptal gift. 57

near the orchestra, where I am sure I can
see the kettle-drummer drum.
SIBYL. Now do be serious, for one minute.
L. I am serious-never was more so.
You know one can't see the modulation
of violinists' fingers, but one can see the
vibration of the drummer's hand; and it's
SIBYL. But fancy going to a concert, not
to hear, but to see !
L. Yes, it is very absurd. The quite
right thing, I believe, is to go there to talk.
I confess, however, that in most music,
when very well done, the doing of it is to
me the chiefly interesting part of the busi-
ness. I'm always thinking how good it
would be for the fat, supercilious people,
who care so little for their half-crown's worth,
to be set to try and do a half-crown's worth
of anything like it.
MARY. But surely that Crystal Palace is a
great good and help to the people of Lon-
don ?
L. The fresh air of the Norwood hills is,
or was, my dear ; but they are spoiling that
with smoke as fast as they can. And the
palace (as they call it) is a better place for
them, by much, than the old fair; and it is
always there, instead of for three days only;
and it shuts up at proper hours of night.
And good use may be made of the things in
it, if you know how: but as for its teaching

58 -te tthr# of the 3t0.

the people, it will teach them nothing but the
lowest of the lower Pthah's work-nothing
but hammer and tongs. I saw a wonderful
piece, of his doing, in the place, only the
other day. Some unhappy metal-worker-
I am not sure if it was not a metal-working
firm-had taken three years to make a
Golden eagle.
SIBYL. Of real gold ?
L. No; of bronze, or copper, or some of
their foul patent metals-it is no matter
what. I meant a model of our chief British
eagle. Every feather was made separately;
and every filament of every feather sepa-
rately, and so joined on; and all the quills
modeled of the right length andright sec-
tion, and at last the whole cluster of them
fastened together. You know, children, I
don't think much of my own drawing ; but
take my proud word for once, that when I
go to the Zoological Gardens, and happen
to have a bit of chalk in my pocket, and the
Gray Harpy will sit, without screwing his
head round, for thirty seconds,--I can do
a better thing of him in that time than the
three years' work of this industrious firm.
For, during the thirty seconds, the eagle is
my object,-not myself; and during the
three years, the firm's object, in every fiber
of bronze it made, was itself, and not the
eagle. That is the true meaning of the little
Pthah's having no eyes-he can see only

ShTe 3ltM Wife. 59

himself. The Egyptian beetle was not quite
the full type of him; our northern ground
beetle is a truer one. It is beautiful to see
it at work, gathering its treasures (such as
they are) into little round balls ; and pushing
them home with the strong wrong end of it,
-head downmost all the way,---like a mod-
ern political economist with his ball of cap-
ital, declaring that a nation can stand on
its vices better than on its virtues. But
away with you, children, now, for I'm get-
ting cross.
DORA. I'm going downstairs; I shall take
care, at any rate, that there are no little
Pthahs in the kitchen cupboards.

Lecture 4.



A working Lecture in the large Schoolroom ;
with experimental Interludes. The great bell
has rung unexpectedly.

KATHLEEN (entering disconsolate, though first
at the summons). Oh dear, oh dear, what a
day! Was ever anything so provoking!
just when we wanted to crystallize ourselves;
-and I'm sure it's going to rain all day
L. So am I, Kate. The sky has quite an
Irish way with it. But I don't see why Irish
girls should also look so dismal. Fancy
that you don't want to crystallize yourselves :
you didn't, the day before yesterday, and
you were not unhappy when it rained then.
FLORRIE. Ah! but we do want to-day;
and the rain's so tiresome.
L. That is to say, children, that because
you are all the richer by the expectation of
playing at a new game, you choose to make
yourselves unhappier than when you had
nothing to look forward to, but the old ones.

ISABEL. But then, to have to wait-wait
-wait; and before we've tried it;-and per-
haps it will rain to-morrow, too 1
L. It may also rain the day after to-
morrow. We can make ourselves uncom-
fortable to any extent with perhapses, Isabel.
You may stick perhapses into your little
minds, like pins, till you are as uncomfort-
able as the Lilliputians made Gulliver with
their arrows, when he would not lie quiet.
ISABEL. But what are we to do to-day ?
L. To be quiet, for one thing, like Gulli-
ver when he saw there was nothing better to
be done. And to practice patience. I can tell
Syou, children, that requires nearly as much
practicing as music; and we are continually
losing our lessons when the master comes.
Now, to-day, here's a nice, little adagio
lesson for us, if we play it properly.
ISABEL. But I don't like that sort of
lesson. I can't play it properly.
L. Can you play a Mozart sonata yet,
Isabel? The more need to practice. All
one's life is a music, if one touches the notes
rightly, and in time. But there must be no
KATHLEEN. I'm sure there's no music in
stopping in on a rainy day.
L. There's no music in a restst" Katie,
That I know of: but there's the making of
Music in it. And people are always missing
j! that part of the life-melody ; and scrambling

64 (9te~tdo of W Q jX' ot-t

9hte 49TMgIs (Ote!r. 65

on without counting-not that it's easy to'
count; but nothing on which so much de-
pends ever is easy. People are always
talking of perseverance, and courage, and
fortitude; but patience is the finest and,
worthiest part of fortitude,-and the rarest,
too. I know twenty -persevering girls for,
one patient one : but it is only that twenty2
first who can do her work, out and out, or
enjoy it. For patience lies at the root of allj
pleasures, as well as of all powers. Hope
herself ceases to be happiness, when Im-
patience companions her.
(ISABEL and LILY sit down on the floor,
and fold their hands. The others
follow their example.)
Good children but that's not quite the
way of it, neither. Folded hands are not
necessarily resigned ones. The Patience
who really smiles at grief usually stands,
or walks, or even runs: she seldom sits;
though she may sometimes have to do it,
for many a day, poor thing, by monuments;
or like Chaucer's, "with face pale, upon a
hill of sand." But we are not reduced to that
to-day. Suppose we use this calamitous fore-
noon to choose the shapes we are to crystal-
lize into? we know nothing about them
(The pictures of resignation rise from
the floor not in the patientest manner.
General applause.)

66 ohe tfe aEf thr gl-ft.

MARY (with one or two others). The very
thing we wanted to ask you about !
LILY. We looked at the books about
crystals, but they are so dreadful.
L. Well, Lily, we must go through a little
dreadfulness, that's a fact: no road to any
good knowledge is wholly among the lilies
and the grass; there is rough climbing to be
done always. But the crystal-books are a
little too dreadful, most of them, I admit;
and we shall have to be content with very
little of their help. You know, as you
cannot stand on each other's heads, you can
only make yourselves into the sections of
crystals,-the figures they show when they
are cut through; and we will choose some
that will be quite easy. You shall make
diamonds of yourselves-
ISABEL. Oh, no, no we won't be dia-
monds, please.
L. Yes, you shall, Isabel; they are very
pretty things, if the jewelers, andthe kings
and queens, would only let them alone.
You shall make diamonds of yourselves,
and rubies of yourselves, and emeralds; and
Irish diamonds; two of those-with Lily
in the middle of one, which will be very
orderly, of course; and Kathleen in the
middle of the other, for which we will
hope the best; and you shall make Derby-
shire spar of yourselves, and Iceland spar,
and gold, and silver, and Quicksilver

' 1k,

there's enough of in you, without;any
MARY. Now, you know, the children will
be getting quite wild: we must really get
pencils and paper, and begin properly.
L. Wait a minute, Miss Mary; I think as
we've the schoolroom clear to-day, I'll try
to give you some notion of the three great
orders or ranks of crystals, into which all
the others seem more or less to fall. We
shall only want one figure a day, in the play-
ground; and that can be drawn in a minute :
but the general ideas had better be fastened
first. I must show you a great many min-
erals ; so let me have three tables wheeled
into the three windows, that we may keep
our specimens separate;-we will keep the
three orders of crystals on separate tables.
(First Interlude, of pushing and pulling,
and spreading ofbaize covers. VIOLET,
not particularly minding what she is
about, gets herselfjammed into a corner,
and bid to stand out of the way ; on
which she devotes herself to meditation.)
VIOLET (after interval of meditation). How
strange it is that everything seems to divide
into threes !
L. Everything doesn't divide into threes.
Ivy won't, though shamrock will; and daisies
won't, though lilies will.
VIOLET. But all the nicest things seem to
divide into threes.

68 Thr (9thirm of the Mut.

L. Violets won't.
VIOLET. No ; I should think not, indeed !
But I mean the great things.
L. I've always heard the globe had four
ISABEL. Well; but you know you said it
hadn't any quarters at all. So mayn't it
really be divided into three ?
L. If it were divided into no more than
three, on the outside of it, Isabel, it would
be a fine world to live in; and if it were
divided into three in the inside of it, it would
soon be no world to live in at all.
DORA. We shall never get to the crystals,
at this rate. (Aside to MARY.) He will get
off into political economy before we know
where we are. (Aloud.) But the crystals
are divided into three, then ?
L. No ; but there are three general notions
by which we may best get hold of them.
Then between these notions there are other
LILY (alarmed). A great many? And
shall we have to learn them all?
L. More than a great many-a quite in-
finite many. So you cannot learn them
LILY (greatly relieved). Then may we
only learn the three ?
L. Certainly; unless, when you have got
those three notions, you want to have some
more notions;-which would not surprise

Site fSTMtal Orarwo. 69

me. But we'll try for the three, first. Katie,
you broke your coral necklace this morn-
KATHLEEN. Oh! who told you? It was in
jumping. I'm so sorry !
L. I'm very glad. Can you fetch me the
beads of it ?
KATHLEEN. I've lost some; here are the
rest in my pocket, if'I can only get them out.
L. You mean to get them out some day,
I suppose; so try now. I want them.
(KATHLEEN empties her pocket on the
floor. The beads disperse. The School
disperses also. Second Interlude-
hunting piece.)
L. (after waiting patiently for a quarter of
an hour, to ISABEL, who comes up from under
the table with her hair all about her ears and
the lastfindable beads in her hand.) Mice are
useful little things sometimes. Now, mousie,
I want all those beads crystallized. How
many ways are there of putting them in
order ?
ISABEL. Well, first one would string them,
I suppose?
L. Yes, that's the first way. You cannot
string ultimate atoms; but you can put them
in a row, and then they fasten themselves
together, somehow, into a long rod or
needle. We will call these "Needle-crystals."
What would be the next way ?

70 nat 1iXA Of tu fl to t.

ISABEL. I suppose, as we are to get to-
gether in the playground, when it stops
raining, in different shapes ?
L. Yes; put the beads together, then, in
the simplest form you can, to begin with.
Put them into a square, and pack them
ISABEL (after careful endeavor). I can't
get them closer.
L. That will do. Now you may see, be-
forehand, that if you try to throw yourselves
into square in this confused way, you will
never know your places; so you had better
consider every square as made of rods, put
side by side. Take four beads of equal size,
first, Isabel; put them into a little square.
That, you may consider as made up of two
rods of two beads each. Then you can make
a square a size larger, out of three rods of
three. Then the next square may be a size
larger. How many rods, .Lily ?
LILY. Four rods of four beads each, .1
L. Yes, and then five rods of five, and so
on. But now, look here; make another
square of four beads again. You see they
leave a little opening in the center.
ISABEL (pushing two opposite ones closer
together). Now they don't.
L. No; but now it isn't a square; and by
pushing the two together you have pushed
the two others farther apart.

fhte Taotal OrMLjm. 71

ISABEL. And yet, somehow, they all seem
closer than they were !
L. Yes; for before, each of them only
touched two of the others, but now each of
the two in the middle touches the other three.
Take away one of the outsiders, Isabel: now
you have three in a triangle-the smallest
triangle you can make out of the beads.
Now put a rod of three beads on at one side.
So, you have a triangle of six beads; but
jist the shape of the first one. Next a rod
of four on the side of that; and you have a
triangle of ten beads : then a rod of five on
the side of that; and you have a triangle of
fifteen. Thus you have a square with five
beads on the side, and a triangle with five
beads on the side ; equal-sided, therefore, like
the square. So, however few or many you
may be, you may soon learn how to crystal-
lize quickly into these two figures, which
are the foundation of form in the com-
monest, and therefore actually the most
important, as well as in the rarest, and
therefore, by our esteem, the most important,
minerals of the world. Look at this in my
VIOLET. Why, it is leaf gold !
L. Yes; but beaten'by no man'shammer;
or rather, not beaten at all, but woven. Be-
sides, feel the -weight of it. There is gold
enough there to gild the walls and ceiling,
if it were beaten thin.

72 te e~tmto of tht Plut.

VIOLET. How beautiful! And it glitters
like a leaf covered with frost.
L. You only think it so beautiful because
you know it is gold. It is not prettier, in
reality, than a bit of brass : for it is Transyl-
vanian gold; and they say there is a foolish
gnome in the mines there, who is always
wanting to live in the moon, and so alloys
all the gold with a little silver. I don't
know how that may be; but the silver
always is in the gold; and if he does it, it's
very provoking of him, for no gold is woven
so fine anywhere else.
MARY (who has been looking through her
magnifying glass). But this is not woven.
This is all made of little triangles.
- L. Say patched," then, if you must be so
particular. But if you fancy all those tri-
angles, small as they are (and many of them
are infinitely small), made up again of rods,
and those of grains, as we built our great
triangle of the beads, what word will you
take for the manufacture ?
MAY. There's no word-it is beyond
L. Yes ; and that would matter little,
were it not beyond thoughts too. But, at
all events, this yellow leaf of dead gold, shed,
not from the ruined woodlands, but the
ruined rocks, will help you to remember the
second kind of crystals, Leaf-erystalS, or
Foliazed crystals; though I show you the

form in gold first only to make a strong im-
pression on you, for gold is not generally,
or characteristically, crystallized in leaves;
the real type of foliated crystals is this thing,
Mica; which if you once feel well, and break
well, you will always know again ; and you
will often have occasion to know it, for you
will find it everywhere nearly, in hill coun-
KATHLEEN. If we break it well I May we
break it ?
L. To powder, if you like.
(Surrenders plate of brown mica to public
investigation. Third Interlude. It sustains
severely philosophical treatment at all hands.)
FLORRIE (to whom the last fragments have
descended). Always leaves, andleaves, and
nothing but leaves, or white dust ?
L. That dust itself is nothing but finer
(Shows them to FLORRIE through magnify-
ing glass.)
ISABEL (peeping over FLORRIE'S shoulder).
But then this bit under the glass looks like that
bit out of the glass I If we could break this
bit under the glass, what would it be like?
L. It would be all leaves still.
ISABEL. And then if we broke those again ?
*L. All less leaves still
ISABEL (impatient). And if we broke them
again, and again, and again, and again, and
again ?

The Orgotal OVUVO.I

L: Well, I suppose you would come to a
limit, if you could only see it. Notice that
the little flakes already differ somewhat from
the large ones : because I can bend them up
and down, and they stay bent; while the
large flake, though it bent easily a little way,
sprang back when you let it go, and broke
when you tried to bend it far. And a large
mass would not bend at all.
MARY. Would that leaf gold separate into
finer leaves, in the same way ?
L. No; and therefore, as I told you, it is
not a characteristic specimen of a foliated
crystallization. The little triangles are por-
tions of solid crystals, and so they are in
this, which looks like a black mica; but you
see it is made up of triangles like the gold,
and stands, almost accurately, as an in-
termediate link, in crystals, between' mica
and gold. Yet this is the commonest, as
gold the rarest, of metals.
MARY. Is it iron ? I never saw iron so
L. It is rust of iron, finely crystallized :
from its resemblance to mica, it is often
called micaceous iron.
KATHLEEN. May we break this, too ?
L. No, for I could not easily get such an-
other crystal; besides, it would not break
like the mica; it is much harder. But take
the glass again, and look at the fineness of
the jagged edges of the triangles where they

74 Zh td ftv-ag.

Zbe f it*.5tal tAV. 75

lap over each other. The gold has the same :
but you see them better here, terrace above
terrace, countless, and in successive angles,
like superb fortified bastions.
MAY. But all foliated crystals are not made
of triangles ?
L. Far from it ; mica is occasionally so,
but usually of hexagons; and here is a
foliated crystal made of squares, which will
show you that the leaves of the rock-land
have their summer green, as well as their
autumnal gold.
FLORRIE. Oh oh oh (jumps for joy).
L. Did you never see a bit of green leaf
before, Florrie?
FLORRIE. Yes, but never so bright as that,
and not in a stone.
L. If you will look at the leaves of the
trees in sunshine after a shower, you will
find they are much brighter than that; and
surely they are none the worse for being on
stalks instead of in stones ?
FLORRIE. Yes, but then there are so many
of them, one never looks, I suppose.
L. Now you have it, Florrie.
VIOLET (sighing). There are so many
beautiful things we never see !
L. You need not sigh for that, Violet; but I
will tell you what we should all sigh for-that
there are so many ugly things we never see.
VIOLET. But we don't want to see ugly
things !

76 hte fthicl f thte aut.

L. You had better say, "We don't want
to suffer them." You ought to be glad in
thinking how much more beauty God has
made, than human eyes can ever see; but
not glad in thinking how much more evil
man has made, than his own soul can ever
conceive, much more than his hands can
ever heal.
VIOLET. I don't understand ;-how is that
like the leaves ?
L. The same law holds in our neglect of
multiplied pain, as in our neglect of multi-
plied beauty. Florrie jumps for joy at sight
of half an inch of a green leaf in a brown
stone, and takes more notice of it than of all
the green in the wood, and you, or I, or any
of us, would be unhappy if any single
human creature beside us were in sharp
pain; but we can read, at breakfast, day
after day, of men being killed, and of women
and children dying of hunger, faster than
the leaves strew the brooks in Vallombrosa;
-and then go out to play croquet, as if
nothing had happened.
MAY. But we do not see the people being
killed or dying.
L. You did not see your brother, when
you got the telegram the other day, saying
he was ill, May; but you cried for him; and
played no croquet. But we cannot talk of
these things now; and what is more, you
must let me talk straight on, for a little

t Mr 1tal OrmX 77

while; and ask no questions till I've done:
for we branch ("exfoliate," I should say,
mineralogically) always into something else,
-though that's my fault more than yours;
but I must go straight on now. You have
got a distinct notion, I hope, of leaf-crystals ;
and you see the sort of look they have : you
can easily remember that foliumum is Latin
for a leaf, and that the separate flakes of
mica, or any other such stones, are called
foliaa;" but, because mica is the most
characteristic of these stones, other things
that are like it in structure are called
"micas; thus we have Uran-mica, which
is the green leaf I showed you; and Copper-
mica, which is another like it, made chiefly
of copper; and this foliated iron is called
"micaceous iron." You have then these
two great orders, Needle-crystals, made
(probably) of grains in rows; and Leaf-
crystals, made (probably) of needles inter-
woven; now, lastly, there are crystals of a
third order, in heaps, or knots, or masses,
which may be made either of leaves laid
one upon another, or of needles bound like
Roman fasces; and mica itself, when it is
well crystallized, puts itself into such masses,
as if to show us how others are made. Here
is a brown six-sided crystal, quite as beauti-
fully chiseled at the sides as any castle
tower; but you see it is entirely built of
folia of mica, one laid above another, which

78 U, lt eti of thr 'aut.

break away the moment I touch the edge
with my knife. Now, here is another hex-
agonal tower, of just the same size and
color, which I want you to compare with
the mica carefully; but as I cannot wait for
you to do it just now, I must tell you quick-
ly what main differences to look for. First,
you will feel it far heavier than the mica.
Then, though its surface looks quite mica-
ceous in the folia of it when you try them
with the knife, you will find you cannot
break them away-
KATHLEEN. May I try?
L. Yes, you mistrusting Katie. Here's
my strong knife for you. (Experimental
pause. KATHLEEN doing her best.) You'll
have that knife shutting on your finger
presently, Kate; and I don't know a girl
who would like less to have her hand tied
up for a week.
KATHLEEN (who also does not like to be
beaten-giving up the knife despondently).
What can the nasty hard thing be ?
L. It is nothing but indurated clay, Kate:
very hard set certainly, yet not so hard as
it might be. If it were thoroughly well
crystallized, you would see none of those
micaceous fractures; and the stone would
be quite red and clear, all through.
KATHLEEN. Oh, cannot you show us one?
L. Egypt can, if you ask her; she has a
beautiful one in the clasp of her favorite

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