joy, hope, and consolation, has been, I say, dealt hardly with by
the division of labour, once the servant, and now the master of
competitive commerce, itself once the servant, and now the master of
civilisation; nay, so searching has been this tyranny, that it has
not passed by my own insignificant corner of labour, but as it has
thwarted me in many ways, so chiefly perhaps in this, that it has so
stood in the way of my getting the help from others which my art
forces me to crave, that I have been compelled to learn many crafts,
and belike, according to the proverb, forbidden to master any, so
that I fear my lecture will seem to you both to run over too many
things and not to go deep enough into any.

I cannot help it. That above-mentioned tyranny has turned some of
us from being, as we should be, contented craftsmen, into being
discontented agitators against it, so that our minds are not at
rest, even when we have to talk over workshop receipts and maxims;
indeed I must confess that I should hold my peace on all matters
connected with the arts, if I had not a lurking hope to stir up both
others and myself to discontent with and rebellion against things as
they are, clinging to the further hope that our discontent may be
fruitful and our rebellion steadfast, at least to the end of our own
lives, since we believe that we are rebels not against the laws of
Nature, but the customs of folly.

Nevertheless, since even rebels desire to live, and since even they
must sometimes crave for rest and peace--nay, since they must, as it
were, make for themselves strongholds from whence to carry on the
strife--we ought not to be accused of inconsistency, if to-night we
consider how to make the best of it. By what forethought, pains,
and patience, can we make endurable those strange dwellings--the