,
acknowledging the equality and similarity of the kettle and the bird in
all scientific respects, attach, for our part, our principal interest to
the difference in their forms. For us, the primarily cognisable facts,
in the two things, are, that the kettle has a spout, and the eagle a
beak; the one a lid on its back, the other a pair of wings;--not to
speak of the distinction also of volition, which the philosophers may
properly call merely a form or mode of force;--but then, to an artist,
the form, or mode, is the gist of the business. The kettle chooses to
sit still on the hob; the eagle to recline on the air. It is the fact of
the choice, not the equal degree of temperature in the fulfilment of it,
which appears to us the more interesting circumstance;--though the other
is very interesting too. Exceedingly so! Don't laugh, children; the
philosophers have been doing quite splendid work lately, in their own
way: especially, the transformation of force into light is a great piece
of systematised discovery; and this notion about the sun's being
supplied with his flame by ceaseless meteoric hail is grand, and looks
very likely to be true. Of course, it is only the old gun-lock,--flint
and steel,--on a large scale: but the order and majesty of it are
sublime. Still, we sculptors and painters care little about it. 'It is
very fine,' we say, 'and very useful, this knocking the light out of the
sun, or into it, by an eternal cataract of planets. But you may hail
away, so, for ever, and you will not knock out what we can. Here is a
bit of silver, not the size of half-a-crown, on which, with a single
hammer stroke, one of us, two thousand and odd years ago, hit out the
head of the Apollo of Clazomenae. It is merely a matter of form; but if
any of you philosophers, with your whole planetary system to hammer
with, can hit out such another bit of silver as this,--we will take off
our hats to you. For the present, we keep them on.'

MARY. Yes, I understand; and that is nice; but I don't think we shall
any of us like having only form to depend upon.

L. It was not neglected in the making of Eve, my dear.

MARY. It does not seem to separate us from the dust of the ground. It is
that breathing of the life which we want to understand.

L. So you should: but hold fast to the form, and defend that first, as
distinguished from the mere transition of forces. Discern the moulding
hand of the potter commanding the clay, from his merely b