Lily (after some silence of wonder).  But is the quartz never wicked then?

L. Yes, but the wickedest quartz seems good-natured, compared to other things.  Here are two very characteristic examples; one is good quartz, living with good pearl-spar, and the other, wicked quartz, living with wicked pearl spar.  In both, the quartz yields to the soft carbonate of iron:  but, in the first place, the iron takes only what it needs of room; and is inserted into the planes of the rock crystal with such precision that you must break it away before you can tell whether it really penetrates the quartz or not; while the crystals of iron are perfectly formed, and have a lovely bloom on their surface besides.  But here, when the two minerals quarrel, the unhappy quartz has all its surfaces jagged and torn to pieces; and there is not a single iron crystal whose shape you can completely trace.  But the quartz has the worst of it, in both instances.

Violet.  Might we look at that piece of broken quartz again, with the weak little film across it? it seems such a strange lovely thing, like the self-sacrifice of a human being.

L. The self-sacrifice of a human being is not a lovely thing, Violet.  It is often a necessary and noble thing; but no form nor degree of suicide can be ever lovely.

Violet.  But self-sacrifice is not suicide!

L. What is it then?

Violet.  Giving up one’s self for another.

L. Well; and what do you mean by “giving up one’s self”?

Violet.  Giving up one’s tastes, one’s feelings, one’s time, one’s happiness, and so on, to make others happy.

L. I hope you will never marry anybody, Violet, who expects you to make him happy in that way.

Violet (hesitating).  In what way?

L. By giving up your tastes, and sacrificing your feelings, and happiness.

Violet.  No, no, I don’t mean that; but you know, for other people, one must.

L. For people who don’t love you, and whom you know nothing about?  Be it so; but how does this “giving up” differ from suicide then?

Violet.  Why, giving up one’s pleasures is not killing one’s self?

L. Giving up wrong pleasure is not; neither is it self-sacrifice, but self-culture.  But giving up right pleasure is.  If you surrender the pleasure of walking, your foot will wither:  you may as well cut it off:  if you surrender the pleasure of seeing, your eyes will soon be unable to bear the light; you may as well pluck them out.  And to maim yourself is partly to kill yourself.  Do but go on maiming, and you will soon slay.

Violet.  But why do you make me think of that verse then, about the foot and the eye?

L. You are indeed commanded to cut off and to pluck out, if foot or eye offend you; but why should they offend you?

Violet.  I don’t know; I never quite understood that.