F. Do you think he did wrong to knock off those large pieces?
L. I dare say he knows what is proper to be done, and that it is right to begin in this manner.
F. What should you think of a person, ignorant of sculpture, who should go to him and say, “I am afraid you know nothing about what you have undertaken to do, because what you are doing does not shew the shape you say it is to represent.”
L. He would shew his ignorance and folly; for my part, I hope I should not speak so foolishly.
F. Well, then, if you ought not to speak so hastily in this respect, remember not to speak so rashly as you did to your brother the other day.
They then pursued their walk and returned home.
Lewis told Stephen about their visit to the sculptor; Stephen was sorry he had not gone, and he asked his father to take him the next time.
Several days past, and at length they went.—The sculptor was seated on a low stool, with a small chisel and a light mallet; he struck very gently, and only took off a sort of dust, which could be blown away with the breath.
The stone had been cut, and brought into some degree of shape, and the boys could see that it was intended for a lion. The artist was then at work upon one of its paws, which was nearly finished: the rest of the body was as yet only roughly cut out.
“Oh, how very different the stone looks,” said Lewis, as soon as he had satisfied himself it was the same stone as he had seen before; “what a difference! O father, it is to be a lion, see what a long tail and what a shaggy mane it will have!”