The Crown of Wild Olive
be spoken simply to, my dear, if you would guide them kindly, and long.'
But St. Barbara answered, that, 'Indeed she thought every one liked her
work,' and that 'the people of different towns were as eager about their
cathedral towers as about their privileges or their markets;' and then
she asked Neith to come and build something with her, wall against
tower; and 'see whether the people will be as much pleased with your
building as with mine.' But Neith answered, 'I will not contend with
you, my dear. I strive not with those who love me; and for those who
hate me, it is not well to strive with me, as weaver Arachne knows. And
remember, child, that nothing is ever done beautifully, which is done in
rivalship; nor nobly, which is done in pride.'
Then St. Barbara hung her head quite down, and said she was very sorry
she 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 directly
and build a chapel with five windows in it; four for the four cardinal
virtues, and one for humility, in the middle, bigger than the rest. And
Neith very nearly laughed quite out, I thought; certainly her beautiful
lips 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 you
usually do; else no one will be able to see to read, inside: and when it
is built, let a poor village priest consecrate it, and not an
archbishop.' St. Barbara started a little, I thought, and turned as if
to say something; but changed her mind, and gathered up her train, and
went out. And Neith bent herself again to her loom, in which she was
weaving a web of strange dark colours, I thought; but perhaps it was
only after the glittering of St. Barbara's embroidered train: and I
tried to make out the figures in Neith's web, and confused myself among
them, as one always does in dreams; and then the dream changed
altogether, and I found myself, all at once, among a crowd of little
Gothic and Egyptian spirits, who were quarrelling: at least the Gothic
ones were trying to quarrel; for the Egyptian ones only sat with their
hands on their knees, and their aprons sticking out very stiffly; and
stared. And after a while I began to understand what the matter was. It
seemed that some of the troublesome building imps, who meddle and make
continually, 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 no
workpeople who could build against them. They were but dull imps, as you
may fancy by their thinking that; and never had done much, except
disturbing the great Gothic building angels at their work, and playing
tricks to each other; indeed, of late they had been living years and
years, like bats, up under the cornices of Strasbourg and Cologne
cathedrals, with nothing to do but to make mouths at the people below.
However, they thought they knew everything about tower building; and
those who had heard what Neith said, told the rest; and they all flew
down directly, chattering in German, like jackdaws, to show Neith's
people what they could do. And they had found some of Neith's old
workpeople somewhere near Sais, sitting in the sun, with their hands on
their knees; and abused them heartily: and Neith's people did not mind
at first, but, after a while, they seemed to get tired of the noise; and
one or two rose up slowly, and laid hold of their measuring rods, and
said, 'If St. Barbara's people liked to build with them, tower against
pyramid, they would show them how to lay stones.' Then the little Gothic
spirits threw a great many double somersaults for joy; and put the tips
of their tongues out slily to each other, on one side; and I heard the
Egyptians say, 'they must be some new kind of frog--they didn't think
there was much building in _them_.' However, the stiff old workers took
their rods, as I said, and measured out a square space of sand; but as
soon as the German spirits saw that, they declared they wanted exactly
that bit of ground to build on, themselves. Then the Egyptian builders
offered to go farther off, and the Germans ones said, 'Ja wohl.' But as
soon as the Egyptians had measured out another square, the little
Germans said they must have some of that too. Then Neith's people
laughed; and said, 'they might take as much as they liked, but they
would not move the plan of their pyramid again.' Then the little Germans
took three pieces, and began to build three spires directly; one large,
and two little. And when the Egyptians saw they had fairly begun, they
laid their foundation all round, of large square stones: and began to
build, so steadily that they had like to have swallowed up the three
little German spires. So when the Gothic spirits saw that, they built
their spires leaning, like the tower of Pisa, that they might stick out
at the side of the pyramid. And Neith's people stared at them; and
thought it very clever, but very wrong; and on they went, in their own
way, and said nothing. Then the little Gothic spirits were terribly
provoked because they could not spoil the shape of the pyramid; and they
sat 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, and
stuck themselves out as far as they could, and made more faces; but that
did no good, neither. Then they looked up to the sky, and opened their
mouths wide, and gobbled, and said it was too hot for work, and
wondered when it would rain; but that did no good, neither. And all the
while the Egyptian spirits were laying step above step, patiently. But
when 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; and
swept out a level spot in the sand with their wings, in no time, and
began building a tower straight up, as fast as they could. And the
Egyptians stood still again to stare at them; for the Gothic spirits had
got quite into a passion, and were really working very wonderfully. They
cut the sandstone into strips as fine as reeds; and put one reed on the
top of another, so that you could not see where they fitted: and they
twisted them in and out like basket work, and knotted them into
likenesses of ugly faces, and of strange beasts biting each other; and
up they went, and up still, and they made spiral staircases at the
corners, for the loaded workers to come up by (for I saw they were but
weak imps, and could not fly with stones on their backs), and then they
made traceried galleries for them to run round by; and so up again; with
finer and finer work, till the Egyptians wondered whether they meant the
thing 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 the
ugly faces, there would be a fine temple, if they were going to build it
all with pillars as big as that!' But in a minute afterwards,--just as
the 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 one
of their tower corners.' But it was too late to mind what they were
about; for, in another instant, the whole tower sloped aside; and the
Gothic 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 the
tower, all in a piece, like a falling poplar, with its head right on the
flank of the pyramid; against which it snapped short off. And of course
that waked me!
MARY. What a shame of you to have such a dream, after all you have told
us about Gothic architecture!
L. If you have understood anything I ever told you about it, you know
that no architecture was ever corrupted more miserably; or abolished
more justly by the accomplishment of its own follies. Besides, even in
its days of power, it was subject to catastrophes of this kind. I have
stood too often, mourning, by the grand fragment of the apse of
Beauvais, not to have that fact well burnt into me. Still, you must have
seen, surely, that these imps were of the Flamboyant school; or, at
least, 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 very
small. But, you see, here is the pyramid, built of great square stones
of fluor spar, straight up; and here are the three little pinnacles of
mischievous quartz, which have set themselves, at the same time, on the
same foundation; only they lean like the tower of Pisa, and come out
obliquely at the side: and here is one great spire of quartz which seems
as if it had been meant to stand straight up, a little way off; and then
had fallen down against the pyramid base, breaking its pinnacle away. In
reality, it has crystallised horizontally, and terminated imperfectly:
but, then, by what caprice does one crystal form horizontally, when all
the rest stand upright? But this is nothing to the phantasies of fluor,
and quartz, and some other such companions, when they get leave to do
anything they like. I could show you fifty specimens, about every one of
which you might fancy a new fairy tale. Not that, in truth, any crystals
get 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 in
mischief! What trials have they?
L. Trials much like our own. Sickness, and starvation; fevers, and
agues, and palsy; oppression; and old age, and the necessity of passing
away in their time, like all else. If there's any pity in you, you must
come 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, nor
twice, to see that even crystals 'cannot choose but be old' at last. It
may be but a shallow proverb of the Justice's; but it is a shrewdly wide
one.
DORA (_pensive, for once_). I suppose it is very dreadful to be old! But
then (_brightening again_), what should we do without our dear old
friends, 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 not
deserve it? But we'll come--we'll come, and cry.
FOOTNOTES:
[152] Note v.
LECTURE IX.
_CRYSTAL SORROWS._
_Working Lecture in Schoolroom._
L. We have been hitherto talking, children, as if crystals might live,
and play, and quarrel, and behave ill or well, according to their
characters, without interruption from anything else. But so far from
this being so, nearly all crystals, whatever their characters, have to
live a hard life of it, and meet with many misfortunes. If we could see
far enough, we should find, indeed, that, at the root, all their vices
were misfortunes: but to-day I want you to see what sort of troubles the
best crystals have to go through, occasionally, by no fault of their
own.
This black thing, which is one of the prettiest of the very few pretty
black things in the world, is called 'Tourmaline.' It may be
transparent, and green, or red, as well as black; and then no stone can
be prettier (only, all the light that gets into it, I believe, comes out
a good deal the worse; and is not itself again for a long while). But
this is the commonest state of it,--opaque, and as black as jet.
MARY. What does 'Tourmaline' mean?
L. They say it is Ceylanese, and I don't know Ceylanese; but we may
always be thankful for a graceful word, whatever it means.