could be, while old
_stained-glass_, of course, should always be sacred to you, a thing to
be left untouched. Even where new work seems justifiable and to be
demanded, proceed as if treading on holy ground. Do not try crude
experiments on venerable and beautiful buildings, but be modest and
reticent; know the styles of the past thoroughly and add your own fresh
feeling to them reverently. And in thought do not think it necessary to
be novel in order to be original. There is quite enough originality in
making a noble figure of a saint, or treating with reverent and
dignified art some actual theme of Scripture or tradition, and working
into its detail the sweetness of nature and the skill of your hands,
without going into eccentricity for the sake of novelty, and into weak
allegory to show your originality and independence, tired with the
world-old truths and laws of holy life and noble character. And this
leads us to the point where we must speak of these deep things in the
great province of thought.

[2] Paradise, canto vi. 1.

CHAPTER XVIII

OF THOUGHT, IMAGINATION, AND ALLEGORY

"_The first thing one should demand of a man who calls himself an artist
is that he has something to say, some truth to teach, some lesson to
enforce. Don't you think so?_"

Thus once said to me an artist of respectable attainment.

"_I don't care a hang for subject; give me good colour, composition,
fine effects of light, skill in technique, that's all one wants. Don't
you think so?_"

Thus once said to me a member of a window-committee, himself also an
artist.

To both I answered, and would answer with all the emphasis possible--No!

The _first_ duty of an artist, as of every other kind of worker, is to
know his business; and, unless he knows it, all the "truths" he wishes
to "teach," and the lessons he wishes to enforce, are but degraded and
discredited in the eyes of men by his bungling advocacy.

On the other hand, the artist who has trained himself to speak with the
tongues of angels and after all has nothing to say, is also, to me, an
imperfect being. What follows is written, as the whole book is written,
for the young student, just beginning his career and feeling the
pressure and conflict of these questions. For such I must venture to
discuss points which the wise and the experienced may pass by.

The present day is deluged with allegory; and the first thing three
students out of four wish to attempt when they ar