sponding
personal cost; all the more so in these days when your lot is so
exceptional a fortune, and when to enjoy daily work falls to so few.
Nevertheless, when I say "enjoy" I do not mean that art is easy or
pleasant in the way that ease is pleasant; there is nothing harder; and
the better the artist, probably the harder it is. But you enjoy it
because of its privileges; because beauty is delightful; because you
know that good art does high and unquestioned service to man, and is
even one of the ways for the advancing of the kingdom of God.

That should be pleasure enough for any one, and compensation for any
pains. You must learn the secret of human suffering--and you can only
learn it by tasting it--because it is yours to point its meaning to
others and to give the message of hope.

In this spirit, then, and within these limitations, must you guide your
own work and claim the co-operation of others, and arrange your
relationships with them, and the limits of their assistance and your
whole personal conduct and course of procedure:--

To be yourself a master.

To train others up to mastery.

To keep your hand over the whole.

To work in a spirit of sacrifice.

These things once firmly established, questions of procedure become
simple. But a few detached hints may be given. I shall string them
together just as they come.

_An Economy of Time in the Studio._--Have a portion of your studio or
work-room wall lined with thin boarding--"picture-backing" of 1/8 inch
thick is enough, and this is to _pin things on to_. The cartoon is what
you are busy upon, but you must "think in glass" all the time you are
drawing it. Have therefore, pinned up, a number of slips of paper--a
foolscap half-sheet divided _vertically_ into two long strips I find
best.

On these write down every direction to the cutter, or the painter, or
the designer of minor ornament, _the moment it comes into your mind_, as
you work at the charcoal drawing. If you once let the moment pass you
will never remember these things again, but you will have them
constantly forced back upon your memory, by the mistranslations of your
intention which will face you when you first see your work in the glass.
This practice is a huge saving of time--and of disappointment. But you
also want this convenient wall space for a dozen other needs; for
tracings and shiftings of parts, and all sorts of essays and suggestions
for alteration.

_That we should work always