l stages and in all details of
a work of art, infinite and continual choice. "Nothing," we are told,
"is single," but all things have relations with each other. How much
more, then, is it true that every bit of glass in a window is the centre
of such relations with its brother and sister pieces, and that nothing
is final until all is finished? A work of art is like a battle; conflict
after conflict, manoeuvre after manoeuvre, combination after
combination. The general does not pin himself down from the outset to
one plan of tactics, but watches the field and moulds its issues to his
will, according to the yielding or the resistance of the opposing
forces, keeping all things solvent until the combinations of the strife
have woven together into a soluble problem, upon which he can launch the
final charge that shall bring him back with victory.

So also is all art, and you must hold all things in suspense. Aye! the
last touch more or less of light or shade or colour upon the smallest
piece, keeping all open and solvent to the last, until the whole thing
rushes together and fuses into a harmony. It is not to be done by
"judgment and experience," for all things are new, and there are no two
tasks the same; and it is impossible for you from the outset to "know
what you want," or to know it at any stage until you can say that the
whole work is finished.

"But if we work on these methods we shall only get such a small quantity
of work done, and it will be so costly done on a system like that you
speak of! Make my assistants masters, and so rivals! put a window in,
and take it out again, forsooth!" What remedy or answer for this?

Well--setting aside the question of the more or less genius--there are
only two solutions that I can see:--an increase in industry or a
possible decrease in profit, though much may be accomplished in
mitigation of these hard conditions, if they prove _too_ hard, by a good
and economical system of work, and by time-saving appliances and
methods.

But, after all, you were not looking out for an easy task, were you, in
this world of stress and strain to have the privileges of an artist's
life without its penalties? Why, look you, you must remember that
besides the business of "saving your soul," which you may share in
common with every one else, _you_ have the special privilege of
_enjoying for its own sake your personal work in the world_.

And you must expect to pay for that privilege at some corre