brave crystal! But I can't bear
to see his flanks all broken, and the clay within them.

L. Yes; it was an evil chance for him, the being born to such
contention; there are some enemies so base that even to hold them
captive is a kind of dishonour. But look, here has been quite a
different kind of struggle: the adverse power has been more orderly, and
has fought the pure crystal in ranks as firm as its own. This is not
mere rage and impediment of crowded evil: here is a disciplined
hostility; army against army.

LILY. Oh, but this is much more beautiful!

L. Yes, for both the elements have true virtue in them; it is a pity
they are at war, but they war grandly.

MARY. But is this the same clay as in the other crystal?

L. I used the word clay for shortness. In both, the enemy is really
limestone; but in the first, disordered, and mixed with true clay;
while, here, it is nearly pure, and crystallises into its own primitive
form, the oblique six-sided one, which you know: and out of these it
makes regiments; and then squares of the regiments, and so charges the
rock crystal literally in square against column.

ISABEL. Please, please, let me see. And what does the rock crystal do?

L. The rock crystal seems able to do nothing. The calcite cuts it
through at every charge. Look here,--and here! The loveliest crystal in
the whole group is hewn fairly into two pieces.

ISABEL. Oh, dear; but is the calcite harder than the crystal then?

L. No, softer. Very much softer.

MARY. But then, how can it possibly cut the crystal?

L. It did not really cut it, though it passes through it. The two were
formed together, as I told you; but no one knows how. Still, it is
strange that this hard quartz has in all cases a good-natured way with
it, of yielding to everything else. All sorts of soft things make nests
for themselves in it; and it never makes a nest for itself in anything.
It has all the rough outside work; and every sort of cowardly and weak
mineral can shelter itself within it. Look; these are hexagonal plates
of mica; if they were outside of this crystal they would break, like
burnt paper; but they are inside of it,--nothing can hurt them,--the
crystal has taken them into its very heart, keeping all their delicate
edges as sharp as if they were under water, instead of bathed in rock.
Here is a piece of branched silver: you can bend it with a touch of your
finger, but the stamp of its every fibre is on the rock in whi