George Ripley said she might well have despised the brute force, but as it grew into something more noble, have learned to love it. Dr. Dana[2] was the servant of the Lowell corporation. In these days no corporation could exist without its man of science. His salary was a mere pittance, and when he made a discovery with which all Europe rang, he asked for a part of the profits. “We will consider,” said the soulless corporation, and they decided that they had a legitimate right to all that could be made out of their servant!
“Thus,” I said, “Wisdom sows for the Mechanic Art to reap?”
“Exactly so,” was the reply; “and this contains the essence of the Yankee philosophy.”
The life of Wisdom was one long struggle for something beyond a merely serviceable knowledge. Bending alike to art and artisan, she still refused to love the latter till he had wooed Beauty to their common service. But Wisdom has of late married Vulcan. He no longer limps, and has washed his face in the springs of love and thought, and sits in holiday robes beside his bride.
Somebody said that the story of Arachne was an instance of the Goddess’s vindictiveness.
Margaret hoped that the vindictiveness was a popular interpolation. If so, the story of Marsyas shows that she was malicious. She brought his misfortunes upon him. If her own voice was discordant, there was no reason why his voice should please!
“Divinities have a right to be indignant,” said somebody. Did Margaret blush?
In speaking of the artistic representations of Minerva, Margaret said some beautiful things. Minerva was as tall and large as she could be, without being masculine. Her face was thoughtful and serene, without being sweet. Her eye was so full and clear that it had no need to be deep.
The talk was closed by Margaret’s reading the Essay that E. P. P. had sent in, and the criticisms upon it.
E. P. P. began by speaking of the conservatism which disinclined Jupiter to the birth of Minerva.