eping! Are the Reptile things not alive then? You
think Pindar wrote that carelessly? or that, if he had only known a
little modern anatomy, instead of 'reptile' things, he would have said
'monochondylous' things? Be patient, and let us attend to the main
points first.

Sculpture, it thus appears, is the only work of wisdom that the Greeks
care to speak of; they think it involves and crowns every other.
Image-making art; _this_ is Athena's, as queenliest of the arts.
Literature, the order and the strength of word, of course belongs to
Apollo and the Muses; under Athena are the Substances and the Forms of
things.

96. Thirdly. By this forming of Images there is to be gained a
'deep'--that is to say, a weighty, and prevailing, glory; not a floating
nor fugitive one. For to the cunning workman, greater knowledge comes,
'undeceitful.'

"[Greek: Daenti;]" I am forced to use two English words to translate
that single Greek one. The 'cunning' workman, thoughtful in experience,
touch, and vision of the thing to be done; no machine, witless, and of
necessary motion; yet not cunning only, but having perfect habitual
skill of hand also; the confirmed reward of truthful doing. Recollect,
in connection with this passage of Pindar, Homer's three verses about
getting the lines of ship-timber true, (Il. XV. 410):

"[Greek: 'All' hoste stathme dory neion exithynei
tektonos en palam si daemonos, hoo rha te pases
eu eide sophies, hypothemosynesin 'Athenes],"

and the beautiful epithet of Persephone,--"[Greek: daeira]," as the
Tryer and Knower of good work; and remembering these, trust Pindar for
the truth of his saying, that to the cunning workman--(and let me
solemnly enforce the words by adding--that to him _only_,) knowledge
comes undeceitful.

97. You may have noticed, perhaps, and with a smile, as one of the
paradoxes you often hear me blamed for too fondly stating, what I told
you in the close of my Third Introductory Lecture,[22] that "so far from
art's being immoral, little else except art is moral." I have now
farther to tell you, that little else, except art, is wise; that all
knowledge, unaccompanied by a habit of useful action, is too likely to
become deceitful, and that every habit of useful action must resolve
itself into some elementary practice of manual labor. And I would, in
all sober and direct earnestness, advise you, whatever may be the aim,
predilection, or necessity of your lives, to resolve upon