"My child," she said, "I am the Art of Stonecutting, which you began yesterday to learn,
friendly to you and a relative by blood, inasmuch
as your grandfather"—naming my mother's father-" was a stone-cutter, and your two uncles,
and both of them are very well thought of on my
account. If you are willing to hold aloof from
this woman's folly and nonsense "-pointing to
her rival" and to come and dwell with me, you
will in the first place be generously nurtured and
have strong shoulders, and you will be a stranger
to all jealousy; you will never leave your fatherland and family to go out into foreign countries,
and it is not for mere words that you will win praise


 

from every one.
 

Do not be repelled by my shabby exterior and my soiled garments, for it was
after beginning thus that the great Pheidias, too,
showed the world his Zeus, and Polykleitos fashioned his Hera, and Myron won praise and Praxiteles wonder. Now these men are worshipped
with the gods. If, then, you should become one
of these, you, too, would certainly be famous
throughout the world. You will make your father, too, an object of envy, and turn all eyes
towards the land that bore you."
Thus, and at even greater length, spoke Handicraft, sprinkling her speech from end to end with
stammering and rusticities in her eager argument
and effort to persuade me. But I can no longer
call it to mind, for most of it has already escaped
my memory. When she now had made an end,
the other began, somewhat in this way:

 

"I, my child, am Culture, an acquaintance and
familiar of yours already, although you have not
yet made full trial of me. This person has told
you in advance what you will gain, forsooth, by
becoming a stone-cutter; namely, that you will be
nothing but a workman, toiling with your body,
on which all your hopes of a livelihood will depend. You will be yourself obscure; your gains
will be small and sordid, your mind dwarfed,
your progress despicable. Your friends will not
seek you out, your enemies will not fear you,


 



your townsfolk will not envy you. You will be
simply an artisan, one of the undistinguished
crowd, tripping over every obstacle, and the obedient servant of every one capable of expressing
himself, while you live the life of a dumb beast,
a treasure-trove for any stronger man than you.
And even if you should become a Pheidias or a
Polykleitos, and should produce many marvellous
works, it is your art that the world will praise,
and not one of those who behold them, if he has
sense, would pray to become like you.
For they
will deem you just what you are, a mechanic, an
artisan, living by the sweat of your brow.