, and allow themselves
intervals of leisure, see the way before them in those intervals, and
save time by the accuracy of their calculations.

A largely intelligent thrift of time is necessary to all great
works--and many works are very great indeed relatively to the energies
of a single individual, which pass unperceived in the tumult of the
world. The advantages of calculating time are artistic as well as
economical. I think that, in this respect, magnificent as are the
cathedrals which the Gothic builders have left us, they committed an
artistic error in the very immensity of their plans. They do not appear
to have reflected that from the continual changes of fashion in
architecture, incongruous work would be sure to intrude itself before
their gigantic projects could be realized by the generations that were
to succeed them. For a work of that kind to possess artistic unity, it
ought to be completely realized within the space of forty years. How
great is the charm of those perfect edifices which, like the Sainte
Chapelle, are the realization of one sublime idea? And those changes in
national thought which have made the old cathedrals a jumble of
incongruous styles, have their parallel in the life of every individual
workman. We change from year to year, and any work which occupies us
for very long will be wanting in unity of manner.

Men are apt enough of themselves to fall into the most astonishing
delusions about the opportunities which time affords, but they are even
more deluded by the talk of the people about them. When children hear
that a new carriage has been ordered of the builder, they expect to see
it driven up to the door in a fortnight, with the paint quite dry on the
panels. All people are children in this respect, except the workman, who
knows the endless details of production; and the workman himself,
notwithstanding the lessons of experience, makes light of the future
task. What gigantic plans we scheme, and how little we advance in the
labor of a day! Three pages of the book (to be half erased to-morrow), a
bit of drapery in the picture that will probably have to be done over
again, the imperceptible removal of an ounce of marble-dust from the
statue that seems as if it never would be finished; so much from dawn to
twilight has been the accomplishment of the golden hours. If there is
one lesson which experience teaches, surely it is this, to make plans
that are strictly limited, and to arrange our