ibution of their
substance in the section, for narrow and deep strength; and the shafts are
mostly hollow. But when the extending space of a leaf is to be enriched
with fulness of folds, and become beautiful in wrinkles, this may be done
either by pure undulation as of a liquid current along the leaf edge, or by
sharp 'drawing'--or 'gathering' I believe ladies would call it--and
stitching of the edges together. And this stitching together, if to be done
very strongly, is done round a bit of stick, as a sail is reefed round a
mast; and this bit of stick needs to be compactly, not geometrically
strong; its function is essentially that of starch,--not to hold the leaf
up off the ground against gravity; but to stick the edges out, stiffly, in
a crimped frill. And in beautiful work of {113} this kind, which we are
meant to study, the stays of the leaf--or stay-bones--are finished off very
sharply and exquisitely at the points; and indeed so much so, that they
prick our fingers when we touch them; for they are not at all meant to be
touched, but admired.

11. To be admired,--with qualification, indeed, always, but with extreme
respect for their endurance and orderliness. Among flowers that pass away,
and leaves that shake as with ague, or shrink like bad cloth,--these, in
their sturdy growth and enduring life, we are bound to honour; and, under
the green holly, remember how much softer friendship was failing, and how
much of other loving, folly. And yet--you are not to confuse the thistle
with the cedar that is in Lebanon; nor to forget--if the spinous nature of
it become too cruel to provoke and offend--the parable of Joash to Amaziah,
and its fulfilment: "There passed by a wild beast that was in Lebanon, and
trode down the thistle."

12. Then, lastly, if this rudeness and insensitiveness of nature be gifted
with no redeeming beauty; if the boss of the thistle lose its purple, and
the star of the Lion's tooth, its light; and, much more, if service be
perverted as beauty is lost, and the honied tube, and medicinal leaf,
change into mere swollen emptiness, and salt brown membrane, swayed in
nerveless languor by the idle sea,--at last the separation between the two
natures is as great as between the fruitful earth and fruitless ocean; and
between the living hands that tend the Garden of Herbs where {114} Love is,
and those unclasped, that toss with tangle and with shells.

* * * * *

13. I had