by John Ruskin
LECTURE VIII.
_CRYSTAL CAPRICE._
_Formal Lecture in Schoolroom, after some practical examination ofminerals._
L. We have seen enough, children, though very little of what might beseen if we had more time, of mineral structures produced by visibleopposition, or contest among elements; structures of which the variety,however great, need not surprise us: for we quarrel, ourselves, for manyand slight causes;--much more, one should think, may crystals, who canonly feel the antagonism, not argue about it. But there is a yet moresingular mimicry of our human ways in the varieties of form which appearowing to no antagonistic force; but merely to the variable humour andcaprice of the crystals themselves: and I have asked you all to comeinto the schoolroom to-day, because, of course, this is a part of thecrystal mind which must be peculiarly interesting to a feminineaudience. (_Great symptoms of disapproval on the part of saidaudience._) Now, you need not pretend that it will not interest you; whyshould it not? It is true that we men are never capricious; but thatonly makes us the more dull and disagreeable. You, who are crystallinein brightness, as well as in caprice, charm infinitely, by infinitude ofchange. (_Audible murmurs of 'Worse and worse!' 'As if we could be gotover that way!' &c. The_ LECTURER, _however, observing the expression ofthe features to be more complacent, proceeds._) And the most curiousmimicry, if not of your changes of fashion, at least of your variousmodes (in healthy periods) of national costume, takes place among thecrystals of different countries. With a little experience, it is quitepossible to say at a glance, in what districts certain crystals havebeen found; and although, if we had knowledge extended and accurateenough, we might of course ascertain the laws and circumstances whichhave necessarily produced the form peculiar to each locality, this wouldbe just as true of the fancies of the human mind. If we could know theexact circumstances which affect it, we could foretell what now seems tous only caprice of thought, as well as what now seems to us only capriceof crystal: nay, so far as our knowledge reaches, it is on the wholeeasier to find some reason why the peasant girls of Berne should weartheir caps in the shape of butterflies; and the peasant girls of Munichtheir's in the shape of shells, than to say why the rock-crystals ofDauphine should all have their summits of the shape of lip-pieces offlageolets, while those of St. Gothard are symmetrical; or why the fluorof Chamouni is rose-coloured, and in octahedrons, while the fluor ofWeardale is green, and in cubes. Still farther removed is the hope, atpresent, of accounting for minor differences in modes of grouping andconstruction. Take, for instance, the caprices of this single mineral,quartz;--variations upon a single theme. It has many forms; but see whatit will make out of this _one_, the six-sided prism. For shortness'sake, I shall call the body of the prism its 'column,' and the pyramidat the extremities its 'cap.' Now, here, first you have a straightcolumn, as long and thin as a stalk of asparagus, with two little capsat the ends; and here you have a short thick column, as solid as ahaystack, with two fat caps at the ends; and here you have two capsfastened together, and no column at all between them! Then here is acrystal with its column fat in the middle, and tapering to a little cap;and here is one stalked like a mushroom, with a huge cap put on the topof a slender column! Then here is a column built wholly out of littlecaps, with a large smooth cap at the top. And here is a column built ofcolumns and caps; the caps all truncated about half way to their points.And in both these last, the little crystals are set anyhow, and buildthe large one in a disorderly way; but here is a crystal made of columnsand truncated caps, set in regular terraces all the way up.
MARY. But are not these, groups of crystals, rather than one crystal?
L. What do you mean by a group, and what by one crystal?
DORA (_audibly aside, to_ MARY, _who is brought to pause_). You know youare never expected to answer, Mary.
L. I'm sure this is easy enough. What do you mean by a group of people?
MARY. Three or four together, or a good many together, like the caps inthese crystals.
L. But when a great many persons get together they don't take the shapeof one person?
(MARY _still at pause._)
ISABEL. No, because they can't; but, you know the crystals can; so whyshouldn't they?
L. Well, they don't; that is to say, they don't always, nor even often.Look here, Isabel.
ISABEL. What a nasty ugly thing!
L. I'm glad you think it so ugly. Yet it is made of beautiful crystals;they are a little grey and cold in colour, but most of them are clear.
ISABEL. But they're in such horrid, horrid disorder!
L. Yes; all disorder is horrid, when it is among things that arenaturally orderly. Some little girl's rooms are naturally _dis_orderly,I suppose; or I don't know how they could live in them, if they cry outso when they only see quartz crystals in confusion.
ISABEL. Oh! but how come they to be like that?
L. You may well ask. And yet you will always hear people talking as ifthey thought order more wonderful than disorder! It _is_ wonderful--aswe have seen; but to me, as to you, child, the supremely wonderful thingis that nature should ever be ruinous or wasteful, or deathful! I lookat this wild piece of crystallisation with endless astonishment.
MARY. Where does it come from?
L. The Tete Noire of Chamonix. What makes it more strange is that itshould be in a vein of fine quartz rock. If it were in a moulderingrock, it would be natural enough; but in the midst of so fine substance,here are the crystals tossed in a heap; some large, myriads small(almost as small as dust), tumbling over each other like a terrifiedcrowd, and glued together by the sides, and edges, and backs, and heads;some warped, and some pushed out and in, and all spoiled and eachspoiling the rest.
MARY. And how flat they all are!
L. Yes; that's the fashion at the Tete Noire.
MARY. But surely this is ruin, not caprice?
L. I believe it is in great part misfortune; and we will examine thesecrystal troubles in next lecture. But if you want to see thegracefullest and happiest caprices of which dust is capable, you must goto the Hartz; not that I ever mean to go there myself, for I want toretain the romantic feeling about the name; and I have done myself someharm already by seeing the monotonous and heavy form of the Brocken fromthe suburbs of Brunswick. But whether the mountains be picturesque ornot, the tricks which the goblins (as I am told) teach the crystals inthem, are incomparably pretty. They work chiefly on the mind of adocile, bluish coloured, carbonate of lime; which comes out of a greylimestone. The goblins take the greatest possible care of its education,and see that nothing happens to it to hurt its temper; and when it maybe supposed to have arrived at the crisis which is, to a well brought upmineral, what presentation at court is to a young lady--after which itis expected to set fashions--there's no end to its pretty ways ofbehaving. First it will make itself into pointed darts as fine ashoar-frost; here, it is changed into a white fur as fine as silk; hereinto little crowns and circlets, as bright as silver; as if for thegnome princesses to wear; here it is in beautiful little plates, forthem to eat off; presently it is in towers which they might beimprisoned in; presently in caves and cells, where they may makenun-gnomes of themselves, and no gnome ever hear of them more; here issome of it in sheaves, like corn; here, some in drifts, like snow; here,some in rays, like stars: and, though these are, all of them,necessarily, shapes that the mineral takes in other places, they areall taken here with such a grace that you recognise the high caste andbreeding of the crystals wherever you meet them; and know at once theyare Hartz-born.
Of course, such fine things as these are only done by crystals which areperfectly good, and good-humoured; and of course, also, there areill-humoured crystals who torment each other, and annoy quietercrystals, yet without coming to anything like serious war. Here (foronce) is some ill-disposed quartz, tormenting a peaceable octahedron offluor, in mere caprice. I looked at it the other night so long, and sowonderingly, just before putting my candle out, that I fell into anotherstrange dream. But you don't care ab
out dreams.
DORA. No; we didn't, yesterday; but you know we are made up of caprice;so we do, to-day: and you must tell it us directly.
L. Well, you see, Neith and her work were still much in my mind; andthen, I had been looking over these Hartz things for you, and thinkingof the sort of grotesque sympathy there seemed to be in them with thebeautiful fringe and pinnacle work of Northern architecture. So, when Ifell asleep, I thought I saw Neith and St. Barbara talking together.
DORA. But what had St. Barbara to do with it?[152]
L. My dear, I am quite sure St. Barbara is the patroness of goodarchitects: not St. Thomas, whatever the old builders thought. It mightbe very fine, according to the monks' notions, in St. Thomas, to giveall his employer's money away to the poor: but breaches of contract arebad foundations; and I believe, it was not he, but St. Barbara, whooverlooked the work in all the buildings you and I care about. Howeverthat may be, it was certainly she whom I saw in my dream with Neith.Neith was sitting weaving, and I thought she looked sad, and threw hershuttle slowly; and St. Barbara was standing at her side, in a stifflittle gown, all ins and outs, and angles; but so bright with embroiderythat it dazzled me whenever she moved; the train of it was just like aheap of broken jewels, it was so stiff, and full of corners, and somany-coloured, and bright. Her hair fell over her shoulders in long,delicate waves, from under a little three pinnacled crown, like a tower.She was asking Neith about the laws of architecture in Egypt and Greece;and when Neith told her the measures of the pyramids, St. Barbara saidshe thought they would have been better three-cornered: and when Neithtold her the measures of the Parthenon, St. Barbara said she thought itought to have had two transepts. But she was pleased when Neith told herof the temple of the dew, and of the Caryan maidens bearing its frieze:and then she thought that perhaps Neith would like to hear what sort oftemples she was building herself, in the French valleys, and on thecrags of the Rhine. So she began gossiping, just as one of you might toan old lady: and certainly she talked in the sweetest way in the worldto Neith; and explained to her all about crockets and pinnacles: andNeith sat, looking very grave; and always graver as St. Barbara went on;till at last, I'm sorry to say, St. Barbara lost her temper a little.
MAY (_very grave herself_). 'St. Barbara?'
L. Yes, May. Why shouldn't she? It was very tiresome of Neith to sitlooking like that.
MAY. But, then, St. Barbara was a saint!
L. What's that, May?
MAY. A saint! A saint is--I am sure you know!
L. If I did, it would not make me sure that you knew too, May: but Idon't.
VIOLET (_expressing the incredulity of the audience_). Oh,--sir!
L. That is to say, I know that people are called saints who are supposedto be better than others: but I don't know how much better they must be,in order to be saints; nor how nearly anybody may be a saint, and yetnot be quite one; nor whether everybody who is called a saint was one;nor whether everybody who isn't called a saint, isn't one.
(_General silence; the audience feeling themselves on the verge of the Infinities--and a little shocked--and much puzzled by so many questions at once._)
L. Besides, did you never hear that verse about being 'called to besaints'?
MAY (_repeats Rom._ i. 7.)
L. Quite right, May. Well, then, who are called to be that? People inRome only?
MAY. Everybody, I suppose, whom God loves.
L. What! little girls as well as other people?
MAY. All grown-up people, I mean.
L. Why not little girls? Are they wickeder when they are little?
MAY. Oh, I hope not.
L. Why not little girls, then?
(_Pause._)
LILY. Because, you know, we can't be worth anything if we're ever sogood;--I mean, if we try to be ever so good; and we can't do difficultthings--like saints.
L. I am afraid, my dear, that old people are not more able or willingfor their difficulties than you children are for yours. All I can sayis, that if ever I see any of you, when you are seven or eight andtwenty, knitting your brows over any work you want to do or tounderstand, as I saw you, Lily, knitting your brows over your slate thismorning, I should think you very noble women. But--to come back to mydream--St. Barbara _did_ lose her temper a little; and I was notsurprised. For you can't think how provoking Neith looked, sitting therejust like a statue of sandstone; only going on weaving, like a machine;and never quickening the cast of her shuttle; while St. Barbara wastelling her so eagerly all about the most beautiful things, andchattering away, as fast as bells ring on Christmas Eve, till she sawthat Neith didn't care; and then St. Barbara got as red as a rose, andstopped, just in time;--or I think she would really have said somethingnaughty.
ISABEL. Oh, please, but didn't Neith say anything then?
L. Yes. She said, quite quietly, 'It may be very pretty, my love; but itis all nonsense.'
ISABEL. Oh dear, oh dear; and then?
L. Well; then I was a little angry myself, and hoped St. Barbara wouldbe quite angry; but she wasn't. She bit her lips first; and then gave agreat sigh--such a wild, sweet sigh--and then she knelt down and hid herface on Neith's knees. Then Neith smiled a little, and was moved.
ISABEL. Oh, I am so glad!
L. And she touched St. Barbara's forehead with a flower of white lotus;and St. Barbara sobbed once or twice, and then said: 'If you only couldsee how beautiful it is, and how much it makes people feel what is goodand lovely; and if you could only hear the children singing in the Ladychapels!' And Neith smiled,--but still sadly,--and said, 'How do youknow what I have seen, or heard, my love? Do you think all those vaultsand towers of yours have been built without me? There was not a pillarin your Giotto's Santa Maria del Fiore which I did not set true by myspearshaft as it rose. But this pinnacle and flame work which has setyour little heart on fire, is all vanity; and you will see what it willcome to, and that soon; and none will grieve for it more than I. Andthen every one will disbelieve your pretty symbols and types. Men mustbe spoken simply to, my dear, if you would guide them kindly, and long.'But St. Barbara answered, that, 'Indeed she thought every one liked herwork,' and that 'the people of different towns were as eager about theircathedral towers as about their privileges or their markets;' and thenshe asked Neith to come and build something with her, wall againsttower; and 'see whether the people will be as much pleased with yourbuilding as with mine.' But Neith answered, 'I will not contend withyou, my dear. I strive not with those who love me; and for those whohate me, it is not well to strive with me, as weaver Arachne knows. Andremember, child, that nothing is ever done beautifully, which is done inrivalship; nor nobly, which is done in pride.'
Then St. Barbara hung her head quite down, and said she was very sorryshe had been so foolish; and kissed Neith; and stood thinking a minute:and then her eyes got bright again, and she said, she would go directlyand build a chapel with five windows in it; four for the four cardinalvirtues, and one for humility, in the middle, bigger than the rest. AndNeith very nearly laughed quite out, I thought; certainly her beautifullips lost all their sternness for an instant; then she said, 'Well,love, build it, but do not put so many colours into your windows as youusually do; else no one will be able to see to read, inside: and when itis built, let a poor village priest consecrate it, and not anarchbishop.' St. Barbara started a little, I thought, and turned as ifto say something; but changed her mind, and gathered up her train, andwent out. And Neith bent herself again to her loom, in which she wasweaving a web of strange dark colours, I thought; but perhaps it wasonly after the glittering of St. Barbara's embroidered train: and Itried to make out the figures in Neith's web, and confused myself amongthem, as one always does in dreams; and then the dream changedaltogether, and I found myself, all at once, among a crowd of littleGothic and Egyptian spirits, who were quarrelling: at least the Gothicones were trying to quarrel; for the Egyptian ones only sat with theirhands on their knees, and their aprons sticking out very stiffly; andstared.
And after a while I began to understand what the matter was. Itseemed that some of the troublesome building imps, who meddle and makecontinually, even in the best Gothic work, had been listening to St.Barbara's talk with Neith; and had made up their minds that Neith had noworkpeople who could build against them. They were but dull imps, as youmay fancy by their thinking that; and never had done much, exceptdisturbing the great Gothic building angels at their work, and playingtricks to each other; indeed, of late they had been living years andyears, like bats, up under the cornices of Strasbourg and Colognecathedrals, with nothing to do but to make mouths at the people below.However, they thought they knew everything about tower building; andthose who had heard what Neith said, told the rest; and they all flewdown directly, chattering in German, like jackdaws, to show Neith'speople what they could do. And they had found some of Neith's oldworkpeople somewhere near Sais, sitting in the sun, with their hands ontheir knees; and abused them heartily: and Neith's people did not mindat first, but, after a while, they seemed to get tired of the noise; andone or two rose up slowly, and laid hold of their measuring rods, andsaid, 'If St. Barbara's people liked to build with them, tower againstpyramid, they would show them how to lay stones.' Then the little Gothicspirits threw a great many double somersaults for joy; and put the tipsof their tongues out slily to each other, on one side; and I heard theEgyptians say, 'they must be some new kind of frog--they didn't thinkthere was much building in _them_.' However, the stiff old workers tooktheir rods, as I said, and measured out a square space of sand; but assoon as the German spirits saw that, they declared they wanted exactlythat bit of ground to build on, themselves. Then the Egyptian buildersoffered to go farther off, and the Germans ones said, 'Ja wohl.' But assoon as the Egyptians had measured out another square, the littleGermans said they must have some of that too. Then Neith's peoplelaughed; and said, 'they might take as much as they liked, but theywould not move the plan of their pyramid again.' Then the little Germanstook three pieces, and began to build three spires directly; one large,and two little. And when the Egyptians saw they had fairly begun, theylaid their foundation all round, of large square stones: and began tobuild, so steadily that they had like to have swallowed up the threelittle German spires. So when the Gothic spirits saw that, they builttheir spires leaning, like the tower of Pisa, that they might stick outat the side of the pyramid. And Neith's people stared at them; andthought it very clever, but very wrong; and on they went, in their ownway, and said nothing. Then the little Gothic spirits were terriblyprovoked because they could not spoil the shape of the pyramid; and theysat down all along the ledges of it to make faces; but that did no good.Then they ran to the corners, and put their elbows on their knees, andstuck themselves out as far as they could, and made more faces; but thatdid no good, neither. Then they looked up to the sky, and opened theirmouths wide, and gobbled, and said it was too hot for work, andwondered when it would rain; but that did no good, neither. And all thewhile the Egyptian spirits were laying step above step, patiently. Butwhen the Gothic ones looked, and saw how high they had got, they said,'Ach, Himmel!' and flew down in a great black cluster to the bottom; andswept out a level spot in the sand with their wings, in no time, andbegan building a tower straight up, as fast as they could. And theEgyptians stood still again to stare at them; for the Gothic spirits hadgot quite into a passion, and were really working very wonderfully. Theycut the sandstone into strips as fine as reeds; and put one reed on thetop of another, so that you could not see where they fitted: and theytwisted them in and out like basket work, and knotted them intolikenesses of ugly faces, and of strange beasts biting each other; andup they went, and up still, and they made spiral staircases at thecorners, for the loaded workers to come up by (for I saw they were butweak imps, and could not fly with stones on their backs), and then theymade traceried galleries for them to run round by; and so up again; withfiner and finer work, till the Egyptians wondered whether they meant thething for a tower or a pillar: and I heard them saying to one another,'It was nearly as pretty as lotus stalks; and if it were not for theugly faces, there would be a fine temple, if they were going to build itall with pillars as big as that!' But in a minute afterwards,--just asthe Gothic spirits had carried their work as high as the upper course,but three or four, of the pyramid--the Egyptians called out to them to'mind what they were about, for the sand was running away from under oneof their tower corners.' But it was too late to mind what they wereabout; for, in another instant, the whole tower sloped aside; and theGothic imps rose out of it like a flight of puffins, in a single cloud;but screaming worse than any puffins you ever heard: and down came thetower, all in a piece, like a falling poplar, with its head right on theflank of the pyramid; against which it snapped short off. And of coursethat waked me!
MARY. What a shame of you to have such a dream, after all you have toldus about Gothic architecture!
L. If you have understood anything I ever told you about it, you knowthat no architecture was ever corrupted more miserably; or abolishedmore justly by the accomplishment of its own follies. Besides, even inits days of power, it was subject to catastrophes of this kind. I havestood too often, mourning, by the grand fragment of the apse ofBeauvais, not to have that fact well burnt into me. Still, you must haveseen, surely, that these imps were of the Flamboyant school; or, atleast, of the German schools correspondent with it in extravagance.
MARY. But, then, where is the crystal about which you dreamed all this?
L. Here; but I suppose little Pthah has touched it again, for it is verysmall. But, you see, here is the pyramid, built of great square stonesof fluor spar, straight up; and here are the three little pinnacles ofmischievous quartz, which have set themselves, at the same time, on thesame foundation; only they lean like the tower of Pisa, and come outobliquely at the side: and here is one great spire of quartz which seemsas if it had been meant to stand straight up, a little way off; and thenhad fallen down against the pyramid base, breaking its pinnacle away. Inreality, it has crystallised horizontally, and terminated imperfectly:but, then, by what caprice does one crystal form horizontally, when allthe rest stand upright? But this is nothing to the phantasies of fluor,and quartz, and some other such companions, when they get leave to doanything they like. I could show you fifty specimens, about every one ofwhich you might fancy a new fairy tale. Not that, in truth, any crystalsget leave to do quite what they like; and many of them are sadly tried,and have little time for caprices--poor things!
MARY. I thought they always looked as if they were either in play or inmischief! What trials have they?
L. Trials much like our own. Sickness, and starvation; fevers, andagues, and palsy; oppression; and old age, and the necessity of passingaway in their time, like all else. If there's any pity in you, you mustcome to-morrow, and take some part in these crystal griefs.
DORA. I am sure we shall cry till our eyes are red.
L. Ah, you may laugh, Dora: but I've been made grave, not once, nortwice, to see that even crystals 'cannot choose but be old' at last. Itmay be but a shallow proverb of the Justice's; but it is a shrewdly wideone.
DORA (_pensive, for once_). I suppose it is very dreadful to be old! Butthen (_brightening again_), what should we do without our dear oldfriends, and our nice old lecturers?
L. If all nice old lecturers were minded as little as one I know of----
DORA. And if they all meant as little what they say, would they notdeserve it? But we'll come--we'll come, and cry.
FOOTNOTES:
[152] Note v.