tinually. (_Plate I, Blake's Job_)

And I only am escaped alone to tell thee. (_Plate IV, Blake's Job_)

So the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than the beginning.
(_Plate XXI, Blake's Job_)

The just upright man is laughed to scorn. (_Plate X, Blake's Job_)]

Some rude things were said above about the straight line and the circle,
on account of their lack of variety, and it is true that a
mathematically straight line, or a mathematically perfect circle, are
never found in good artistic drawing. For without variety is no charm or
life. But these lines possess other qualities, due to their maximum
amount of unity, that give them great power in a composition; and where
the expression of sublimity or any of the deeper and more profound
sentiments are in evidence, they are often to be found.

The rows of columns in a Greek temple, the clusters of vertical lines in
a Gothic cathedral interior, are instances of the sublimity and power
they possess. The necessary play that makes for vitality--the "dither"
as we called this quality in a former chapter--is given in the case of
the Greek temple by the subtle curving of the lines of columns and
steps, and by the rich variety of the sculpture, and in the case of the
Gothic cathedral by a rougher cutting of the stone blocks and the
variety in the colour of the stone. But generally speaking, in Gothic
architecture this particular quality of "dither" or the play of life in
all the parts is conspicuous, the balance being on the side of variety
rather than unity. The individual workman was given a large amount of
freedom and allowed to exercise his personal fancy. The capitals of
columns, the cusping of windows, and the ornaments were seldom repeated,
but varied according to the taste of the craftsman. Very high finish was
seldom attempted, the marks of the chisel often being left showing in
the stonework. All this gave a warmth and exuberance of life to a fine
Gothic building that makes a classical building look cold by comparison.
The freedom with which new parts were built on to a Gothic building is
another proof of the fact that it is not in the conception of the unity
of the whole that their chief charm consists.

On the other hand, a fine classic building is the result of one large
conception to which every part has rigorously to conform. Any addition
to this in after years is usually disastrous. A high finish is always
attempted, no tool marks nor any individuality o