Mainz. He probably met with rebuffs from
all quarters, on account of the prejudice then prevailing that
handicrafts were derogatory to a gentleman. He was, therefore, obliged
to sink his rank, become a workman, associate with artisans, and mix
with the people, in order to raise the people to the high level of
morality and intelligence.

Under the pretence of working together at _a new and marvellous craft_,
such as jewelry, clock-making, and grinding and setting precious stones,
he entered into a deed of partnership with two wealthy inhabitants of
Strasburg, Andrew Dritzchen and Hans Riffe, bailiff of Lichtenau; and
afterward with Faust, a goldsmith and banker of Mainz, whose name,
confounded with that of Faustus, the wondrous sorcerer of German fable,
the master of mystery, and the friend of the Evil One, caused the
invention of printing to be attributed to magic; and, lastly, with
Hulmann, whose brother had just established the first paper-mill at
Strasburg.

In order the more effectually to conceal from his partners the real
object of his pursuit, Gutenberg joined them in several artistic and
secondary enterprises. Continuing in secret his mechanical researches on
printing, he employed himself publicly in these other occupations. He
taught Dritzchen the art of cutting precious stones. He himself polished
Venetian glass for mirrors, or cut pieces of it into facets, setting
them in copper frames ornamented with wooden figurines representing
personages from history or fable, from the Bible or the Testament. These
articles, which found sale at the fair of Aix-la-Chapelle, kept up the
funds of the association, and assisted Gutenberg in the secret expenses
reserved for accomplishing and perfecting his design.

To conceal it the better also from the restless curiosity of the public,
who began to circulate a suspicion of witchcraft against him, Gutenberg
left the town, and established his workshop in the ruins of an old
deserted monastery, called the Convent of St. Arbogast. The solitude of
the place, only inhabited by the houseless poor of the suburbs, covered
his first attempts.

In a corner of one of the vast cloisters of the monastery, occupied by
his partners for their less secret labors, Gutenberg had reserved for
himself a cell, always closed with lock and bolt, and to which none but
himself ever had access. He was supposed to go there to draw the
designs, arabesques, and figurines for his jewelry and the frames o