Page 1


THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY Astor,

Lenox and Tilden Foundations

BEQUEST OF

JOHN

L.

CADWALADER, 1914

LL.D.


THE NEW YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

565585 LENOX ASrOR,

til'd^n

R

I

AND foundations ^ 1915

€ « «

<

c

««€

'


CONTENTS. IJTTRODUCTORT

Chapter

I.

n.

^

The Lamp op Sacrifice The Lamp of Truth

m. The Lamp IV,

V.

VL The Lamp Vn.

of

Power

The Lamp of Beautt The Lamp of Life

,

7

25 57

,

.

,

,

.

85 123

,

* .

of Memory

The Lamp of Obediencb

Notes

,

.

,

,

.

,

.

.146 .165 ^^9

>

«

^

LI

;

'

>

»o»> ^

o

'^

D J »

' >

t, -)

J

1

4

^ o

> «)

>^" >

.

») <•


r t

r

,

< 1

C <

C

>.

f


LIST OF PLATES. Plate

L

Ornaments from Rouen,

St. Lo,

n. Part of the Cathedral of

nL

St.

and Venice iofacepa^e

Lo,

Normandy

.

Traceries from Caen, Bayeux, Rouen, and Beauvais

23

.

43

.

48 52

IV. Intersectional Mouldings

V. Capital from the Lower Arcade of the Doge's Palace, ^3

Venice

VL

Arch from the Fa5ade of the Church of San Michele Lucca

^^

YD.. Pierced Ornaments from Ldsieux, Bayeux, Verona,

Padua

Vm. Window from

the Ca' Foscari, Venice

XL

Traceries

and Mouldings from Rouen and Salisbury

Balcony in the

Xn. Fragments Xni.

Campo

St.

Benedetto, Venice

.

from Abbeville, Lucca, Venice, and Pisa

^8

80

.

85

.

l05

.112 .

129

Portions of an Arcade on the South Side of the Cathe-

140

dral of Ferrara

XIV.

aaid

...

IX. Tracery from the Campanile of Giotto, at Florence

X.

at

.

.

Sculptures from the Cathedral of

Rouen

.

.

.142


.

P

E

R E E A <^^»wvw^»>»v%»wvw

The memoranda which form

the basis of the following

Essay have been thrown together during the preparation of one of the sections of the third volume of " Modern Painters."*

once thought of giving them a more

I

expanded form

but their

;

utility,

such as

may

it

be,

would probably be diminished by farther delay in their publication,

more than

it

would be increased by greater Obtained in every case by

care in their arrangement.

personal observation, there

with respect to

may

be among them some

even to the experienced architect

details valuable

the opinions founded upon them

I

;

but

must be

prepared to bear the charge of impertinence which can hardly but attach to the writer

who assumes

a dogmatical

tone in speaking of an art he has never practised.

There

* The inordinate delay in the appearance of that supplementary volume owing to the necessity under which the writer felt

has, indeed, been chiefly himself, of obtaining as in Italy

and Normandy,

many memoranda now in process of

as possible of mediaeval buildings destruction, before that destruction

should be consummated by the Restorer or Revolutionist. His whole time has been lately occupied in taking drawings from one side of buildings, of which masons were knocking down the other ; nor can he yet pledge himself to any time for the publication of the conclusion of " Modern Painters ;" he

can only promise that part.

its

delay shall not be owing to any indolence on his


PREFACE.

Vi

are,

however, cases in which

men

keenly to be

feel too

and perhaps too strongly to be wrong I have been and have suffered too forced into this impertinence silent,

;

;

much 1

from the destruction or neglect of the architecture

best loved,

and from the erection of that which I cannot modesty of my

love, to reason cautiously respecting the

which have induced the scorn

opposition to the principles

And

of the one, or directed the design of the other.

have been the

less careful to

I

my

modify the confidence of

statements of principles, because in the midst of the opposition and uncertainty of our architectural systems, it

me

seems to

that there

is

positive opinion, though in

weeds are

useful that

Every apology

is,

something grateful in any

many

grow on

points wrong, as even

a bank of sand.

however, due to the reader, for the

Having

hasty and imperfect execution of the plates.

much more

serious

work

and desiring merely to

in hand,

render them illustrative of

my

meaning,

I

have sometimes

very completely failed even of that humble aim text,

completed,

and the

was

sometimes naively describes as sublime or

beautiful, features shall

;

being generally written before the illustration

be grateful

if

which the

plate represents

by a

blot.

I

the reader will in such cases refer the

expressions of praise to the Architecture, and not to the illustration.

So

far,

admit, the

however, as

coarseness

their

plates are valuable

;

and rudeness

being either copies of

memoranda made upon the spot, or (Plates IX. and XI.) enlarged and adapted from Daguerreotypes, taken under

my own

superintendence.

distance from subject

Unfortunately,

the ground of the

of Plate

the

window which

great

the IX. renders even the Daguerreotype is


PREFACE.

indistinct

and

;

I

VU

cannot answer for the accuracy of any

of the mosaic details, more especially of those which

surround the window, and which

be sculptured in

original, to

rather imagine, in the

I

The

relief.

tions are, however, studiously preserved

general propor;

the spirals of

the shafts are counted, and the effect of the whole

near that of the thing

itself,

as

is

is

as

necessary for the

purposes of illustration for which the plate the accuracy of the rest

is given. For can answer, even to the cracks

I

and the number of them

in the stones,

;

and though the

looseness of the drawing, and the picturesque character

which

is

necessarily given

by an endeavor

may

buildings as they actually appear,

to

draw

perhaps diminish

do so

for architectural veracity, they will

their credit

old

unjustly.

The system in

of lettering adopted in the few instances which sections have been given, appears somewhat

obscure in the references, but

The

whole. section etter

;

is

it is convenient upon the which marks the direction of any

noted, if the section be symmetrical,

and the section

ine over

a.

it,

direction

Its

line

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

is

a.

But

itself if

by the same

over them,

The

letters, a. a. a^ at its extre-

it

by the same

letters

with

a^ at the corresponding extremities.

reader will perhaps be surprised by the small

number of But

a. a.

single

with a

the section be unsymmetrical,

noted by two

mities; and the actual section lines

by a

letter

is

which reference has been made. remembered that the following chapters

buildings to

to be

pretend only to be a statement of principles, illustrated

each by one or two examples, not an essay on European architecture

;

and those examples

either from the buildings

which

I

I

have generally taken

love best, or from the


;

PREFACE.

VIU

schools of architecture which,

been as

it

appeared to me, ha\'e

described than they deserved.

less carefully

I

could

though not with the accuracy and certainty

fully,

derived from personal observation,

have

illustrated the

from the architecture

principles subsequently advanced,

of Egypt, India, or Spain, as from that to which the

reader will find his attention chiefly directed, the Italian

me

experience, led

and

which reaches,

like

impure

Germany on

Northumbrian

the

schools

schools,

Christian architecture, from the

a high watershed of to

of

Spain

the other

centres of this chain,

affections, as well as

to that line of richly varied

magnificently intellectual

Adriatic

my

But

Romanesque and Gothic.

my

seas,

the

bordered by the

one

hand, and

of

and as culminating points and

:

I

on

have considered,

first,

the cities

RomanVenice and Verona as

of the Val d'Arno, as representing the Italian

esque and pure Italian Gothic

elements

;

;

Gothic colored

representing the Italian

and Rouen, with the associated

by Byzantine

Norman

cities,

Caen, Bayeux, and Coutances, as representing the entire range of Northern architecture from the Romanesque to Flamboyant. I

could have wished to have given more examples from

our early English Gothic impossible to

work

;

but

I

have always found

in the cold interiors of

it

our cathedrals

while the daily services, lamps, and fumigation of those

upon the Continent, render them perfectly course of last

summer

safe.

In the

undertook a pilgrimage to the English Shrines, and began with Salisbury, where the I

consequence of a few days' work was a state of weakened health, which I may be permitted to name among the causes of the slightness and imperfection of the present Essay.


â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

THK

SEVEN LAMPS or

AECHIIECTURE. INTRODUCTORY. Some

'

years ago, in conversation with an artist whose works,

perhap?, alone, in the present day, unite perfection of drawing with

made some inquiry respecting the by which this latter quahty was most easily to be attained. The reply was as concise as it was comprehensive " Know what you have to do, and do it" comprehensive, not only resplendence of color, the writer

general means

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

as regarded the branch of art to

which

it

temporarily applied, but as

expressing the great principle of success in every direction of effort

;

for I

beheve that

insufficiency of

means or impatience of

labor,

understanding of the thing actually to be done it is

human

failure is less frequently attributable to either

;

than to a confused

and

therefore, while

properly a subject of ridicule, and sometimes of blame, that

men

propose to themselves a perfection of any kind, which reason, tempe-

might have shown to be impossible with the means command, it is a more dangerous error to permit the consideration of means to interfere with our conception, or, as is not impossible, even hinder our acknowledgment of goodness and perfection in themselves. And this is the more cautiously to be remembered because, while a man's sense and conscience, aided by Revelation, are always enough, if earnestly directed, to enable him to rarately consulted,

at

their

;

1


INTRODUCTORY.

discover

what

is

right, neither his sense,

nor conscience, nor feeling,

intended, to determine for him are ever enough, because they are not his own strength nor that o. neither knows what is possible. He

dependence to be placed on his allies These are questions nor resistance to be expected from his opponents. conclusions, and ignorance his warp may passion which respecting with the must hmit them but it is his o\\ti fault if either interfere And, as right. of acknowledgment the apprehension of duty, or

his fellows, neither the exact

;

far as I

matters

many failures to men are hable, more especially in me more largely to spring from this

have taken cognizance of the causes of the

which the

intelhgent

efforts of

political,

they seem to

smgle error than from

all others,

that the inquiry into the doubtful,

and in some sort inexpUcable, relations of capabihty, chance, resistance, and inconvenience, invariably precedes, even if it do not altogether supersede, the determination of what is absolutely desirable and just. of our is it any wonder that sometimes the too cold calculation powers should reconcile us too easily to our short comings, and even lepd us into the fatal error of supposing that our conjectural utmost

Nor

is

in itself well, or, in other words, that the necessity of offences

Tenders (

'

them

What

is

inoffensive.

true of

human pohty seems

distinctively political art of Architecture.

of the necessity, in order to

its

me

to I

from the confused mass of

with which

it

felt

the

con^anced

some determined eflfort and dogmata

progress, of

to extricate

less so of

not

have long

partial traditions

has become encumbered during imperfect or restricted

practice, those large principles of right

stage and style of as essentially as

it.

which are apphcable to every

Uniting the technical and imaginative elements

humanity does soul and body,

it

shows the same

infirmly balanced liabihty to the prevalence of the lower part over

the higher, to the interference of the constructive, with the purity and simplicity of the reflective, element.

form of materialism,

is

This tendency, hke every other

increasing ^vith the advance of the age

the only laws which resist

it,

already regarded with disrespect as decrepit, tyrannical, are evidently inapplicable to the

necessities

may

l^ecome, cannot

strange and inij)atient, out of every fiir

it

may be

possible to

if

and

not with defiance as

new forms and

of the art, which the necessities of the day these

;

based upon partial precedents, and

demand.

be conjectured

modern shadow

meet them without a

functions

How many ;

they

of change.

sacrifice of

the

rise,

How

esvsential


INTRODUCTORY. arch

characters of

ectr; al

past practice, which arising of a

new

may

cannot be determined by

art,

There

calculation or observance.

if

that

a.l

is

practice, or of ancient authority in

mode

new

of averting

material

and

;

danger

the

o<

systematic and consistent in oui

our judgment,

to cease for 3

is

our endeavors to deal with the multiplying host of par-

ticular abuses, restraints, or

requirements

as the guides of every effort,

some

;

and endeavor to determine, and irrefragable

constant, general,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

which based upon man's nature, not upon

may

possess so far the unchangeableness of the one, as

laws of right

laws,

that neither the increase nor imperfection of the other to assault or invahdate

There

specifi<5

based on

principle,

not be overthrown in a moment, by the

not the only,

an utter dissolution of

knowledge,

no law, no

is

condition, or the invention of a

the most rational,

Httle while,

3

are,

may

his

be able

them.

perhaps, no such laws pecuhar to any one

Their

art.

But

range necessarily includes the entire horizon of man's action.

they have modified forms and operations belonging to each of his pui"suits,

and the extent of

as a diminution of

belong to the

its

of the

first

following pages

and

;

then- authority cannot surely

weight. arts,

be considered Those pecuhar aspects of them which I have endeavored to trace in the

since, if truly stated,

they must necessarily be,

not only safeguards against every fonn of error, but sources of every

measure of

success, I

do not think that

Lamps

I claim too

much

for

them

in

calhng them the

m

endeavoring to ascertain the true nature and nobility of their

of Architecture, nor that

it

is

indolence, fire,

any curious or special questioning of the innumerable liindrances by which their light has been too often distorted to refuse to enter into

or overpowered.

Had this farther examination been attempted, the work would have become certainly more invidious, and perhaps less useful, as hable to errors which are avoided by the present simplicity of its plan. Simple though it be, its extent is too gi-eat to admit of any adequate accomplishment, unless by a devotion of time which the writer did not the

feel justified in

withdrawing fi-om branches of inquiry

prosecution of works already undertaken

Both arrangements and nomenclature than of system it

;

the one

pretended that

all,

is

arbitrary

are those of convenience rather

and the other

or even the greater

necessary to the well-being of the

in wliich

has engaged him.

art,

number

illogical of,

:

nor

u

the principles

are included in the inquiry


â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

;

INTRODUCTORY.

4

Many, however, of considerable importancB will be found to develope themselves incidentally from those more specially brought forward. Graver apology

been just

It has

necessary for an apparently graver fault.

is

no branch of human work whose constant analogy with those which govern every other

said, that there is

laws have not close

But, more than this, exactly as we reduce and surety any one group of these practical laws, we shall find them passing the mere condition of connection or analogy, and becoming the actual expression of some ultimate nerve or fibre of the mighty laws which govern the moral world. However

mode

of man's exertion.

to greater simphcity

mean

or inconsiderable the act, there

is

something in the well doing

which has fellowship with the noblest forms of manly virtue and the truth, decision, and temperance, which we reverently' regard as honorable conditions of the spiritual being, have a representative

of

it,

movements

or derivative influence over the works of the hand, the

of the frame, and the action of the intellect.

And

as thus every action,

utterance of a syllable, of

down even

to the

motive of

is

true), so also it is

For there

it.

drawing of a

is

it is

capable of dignity

truly

still

may

help

much, most especially that the pleasing of God. Hence George Herbert it

A

Who

tlie

that

pressing or

we have

and of

nor

;

may

all

is

it

any

be so

purposes,

divine

sweeps a room, as for thy laws.

Makes

of acting,

it,

cliief

a

servant with this clause

Makes drudgery

Therefore, in

(as

no action so shght, nor so mean, but

purpose so great but that slight actions

"

done

higher in the

be done to a great purpose, and ennobled therefore

done as to help

line or

capable of a peculiar dignity in the manner

which we sometimes express by saying

it,

line or tone

may

is

and the action

fine."

recommending of any

act

or

manner

choice of two separate hues of argument

one based on representation of the expediency or inherent value of the work, which is often small, and always disputable the other based :

;

on proofs of of

its

virtue. latter

its

human virtue, and Him who is the orig-in of

relations to the higher orders of

acceptableness, so far as

it

goes, to

The former is commonly the more assuredly the more conclusive only it

as if there

;

were irreverence

in

persuasive method, the is

liable to give offence,

adducing considerations so weighty

in


INTRODUCTORY. I believe, however,

treating subjects of small temporal importance.

that no error

more thoughtless than

is

We

this.

God

treat

with

by banishing Him from our thoughts, not by referring to His will on slight occasions. His is not the finite authority or There is intelhgence which cannot be troubled with small things. nothing so small but that we may honor God by asking His guidance of it, or insult Him by taking it into our own hands and irreverence

;

what use

is

it

true of the Deity

is

equally true of His Revelation.

most reverently when most habitually

ever acting without reference to apphcation.

univei-sal

its

introduction of

by so doing

;

its

but

I

our insolence

our true honoring of

have been blamed

sacred words.

my

it,

:

I

am

excuse must be

for

the

it

We is

in

is

in

famihar

grieved to have given pain

my

wish that those words

were made the ground of every argument and the test of every have them not often enough on our hps, nor deeply action.

We

enough

in

our memories, nor loyally enough in our hves. The Are our fulfil His word.

snow, the vapor, and the stormy wind acts

and thoughts

forget

fighter

and wilder than these

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

that

we should

it ?

I have therefore ventured, at the lisk of giving to

some passages

the appearance of irreverence, to take the higher fine of argument wherever it appeared clearly traceable : and this, I would ask the

reader especially to observe, not merely because I think

mode of

of reaching ultimate truth,

more importance than many

still

less

othei-s

;

it

the best

because I think the subject

but because every subject

should surely, at a period like the present, be taken up in this spirit, The aspect of the years that approach us is as solemn or not at afi. as

it

is

full

of mystery

have to contend,

is

and the weight of

;

evil against

increasing like the letting out of water.

which we It is

no

time for the idleness of metaphysics, or the entertauiment of the arts. of the earth are sounding louder, and its nfiseries heaped heavier every day and if, in the midst of the exertion which every good man is caUed upon to put forth for their repression or

The blasphemies

;

relief, it is

lawful to ask for a thought, for a

moment,

for a fifting of

the finger, in any direction but that of the immediate and overwhelming need, it is at least incumbent upon \is to approach the questions in which

we would engage him,

become the habit of nor his usefulness

his

may

in the spirit

which has

mind, and in the hope that neither his zeal be checked by the withdi-awal of an hour


INTRODUCTORY.

6

>vhich has

shown him how even those things which seemed mechani or contemptible, depend for their perfection upon the

cal, indiflferent,

acknowledgment

of

obedience, for which

contend.

the it

sacred

principles

of

faith,

truth,

has become the occupation of his

and

life

to


CHAPTER

I.

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE. I.

Architecture is by man

art whicli so disposes

tlie

edifices raised

for

and

contribute to his mental health, power

very necessary, in the outset of

It is

carefully

To

and adorns the

whatsoever uses, that the sight of them pleasure.

all

inquiry, to distinguish

between Architecture and Building.

build, hterally to confirm,

by common understanding

is

to put

together and adjust the several pieces of any edifice or receptacle of

Thus we have church building, house building, That one edifice stands, another and another is suspended on iron springs, makes no dif-

a considerable

size.

ship building, and coach building. floats,

ference in the nature of the art,

The pereons who

edification. ecclesiastical,

ustify

is

what

it

erects

number

may

be

called, of building or

other

name

their

I

do

;

and

fits it

it

work may

no more architecture which

is

to receive

and contain with comfort a

of persons occupied in certain religious

architecture which

Bwift.

may

naval, or of whatever

a chm-ch, or which

required it

it

but building does not become architecture merely by the

;

stability of raises

so

if

profess that art, are severally builders,

makes a

not, of course,

mean

carriage

that the

word

is

of the fine

arts,

;

and

than

not often, or even

not be legitimately, apphed in such a sense (as

naval architecture)

offices,

commodious, or a ship

we speak

of

but in that sense architecture ceases to be one it

is

therefore better not to run the risk, by

loose nomenclature, of the confusion

which would arise, and has which belong altogether to

often arisen, fi-om extending principles

building, into the sphere of architecture proper.

Let

us, therefore, at

once confine the

taking up and admitting, as conditions of

and common uses of the

name its

to that art which,

working, the necessities

building, impresses

on

its

form certain

characters venerable or beautiful, but otherwise unnecessary.

Thus,


â&#x20AC;&#x201D; THE LAMP OF SAC

8

no one would

I suppose,

ciill tlie

IIFICE.

laws an

which determina

itectural

But if to the height of a breastwork or the position of a bastion. the stone facing of that bastion be added an unnecessary feature, as a cable moulding, that um-easonable to

Ai-chitecture.

is

or

battlements

call

It

would be

maehicolations

similarly

architectural

long as they consist only of an advanced gallery supported on projecting masses, with open intervals beneath for offence. But if these projecting masses be carved beneath into rounded features, so

com-ses,

which are

arched and

and

useless,

trefoiled,

which

if

the headings of the intervals be

useless, that

is

Architecture.

is

not be always easy to draw the hne so sharply and simply there are few buildings which have not

being architectm-al

some pretence

may

It ;

because

or color of

neither caja there be any architecture which

;

is

on building, nor any good architectm-e which is not based on good building but it is perfectly easy, and very necessary to keep the ideas distinct, and to understand fully that Architecture concerns itself only with those characters of an edifice which ar

not based

;

above and beyond

common

its

I

use.

say

building raised to the honor of God, or in surely a use to which

use which limits,

its

by any

architectural

common; because a memory of men, has

adornment

inevitable necessities,

its

fits

n. Architecture proper, then, natm-ally arranges heads

it

but not a

;

plan or itself

details.

under

five

:

Devotional; includuig

God's service or

building's raised for

all

honor.

Memorial Civil

monuments and tombs. by nations or

including both

;

including every edifice raised

;

piu*poses of

Mihtary;

common

including

societies, for

business or pleasure.

and

private

all

pubUc

architecture

of

defence.

Domestic

Now,

;

including every rank and kind of dwelling-place.

of the principles

all

must

the

art,

be, as I

which said,

I

would endeavor

to develope, while

appHcable to every stage and style of

some, and especially those which are exciting rather than

directing,

have necessarily

than another which,

have

;

having

influence

reference to devotional oifers for

fuller reference to

and among these in

all,

I

one kind of bmlding

would place

first

that

has nevertheless such

and memorial architecture

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the

such work precious things, simply because they

spirit

especial

sphit which ire

precious

,*


;

U

THE LAMP OF SACRUTICE. not as being necessary to the building, but as an

and

ing,

what

sacrifice of

not only that this feeling

who forward

surrender-

oflfering,

is

to oui'selves desirable.

is

in

seems to me,

It

most cases wholly wanting

the devotional buildings of the present day

in those

but that

;

would even be regarded as an ignorant, dangerous, or perhaps by many among us. I have not space to enter into dispute of all the various objections which may be urged against but I may, perhaps, ask the they are many and specious it reader's patience while I set down those simple reasons which cause

it

criminal principle

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

me

;

to beUeve

it

and honorable

God

a good and just feehng, and as well-pleasmg to

men,

in

as

it

beyond

is

dispute necessaiy to the

all

production of any great work in the kind with which

we

are at

present concerned.

Now,

III.

to define this

fii*st,

I have said that

Lamp,

prompts us to the

it

or Spirit of Sacrifice, clearly. oflfering of

precious thing's,

merely because they are precious, not because they are useful or It is a sph-it, for instance, which of two marbles, equally necessaiy.

and dm-able, would choose the more costly, and of two kinds of decoration, equally efiective, would choose the more elaborate because it was so, in order that it might in the same compass present more cost and more thought. It is therefore most unreasoning and enthusiastic, and perhaps best

beautiful, apphcable

because

was

it

negatively

modem

so,

which

desires to

feeling of

prevalent

of the

the opposite

as

defined,

times,

produce the largest results at the

least cost.

Of ^vish

this feeling, then, tbere are

to

two

distinct

forms

:

the

first,

the

self-denial for the sake of self-disciphne merely,

exercise

a wish acted upon in the abandonment of things loved or desired, there being no direct call or purpose to be answered by so doing

and the second, the

desire to

costhness of the sacrificy. private or public

private

;

while,

for so

many

practice

the latter case, the act

Now,

pubhc.

the expediency of

sakes,

it is

it

fail

first

is

else

by the

case, either

commonly, and

cannot but at

self-dcxxiai for its

it.

But

I believe

not enough acknowledge or contemplate are apt to

in the

first

own

sake,

Avith

a})pear

when,

every day necessary to a far greater degree

than any of us practise

we

is,

but most frequently, and perhaps most properly,

;

m

greatest advantage, futile to assert

honor or please some one

The

in its duties

it

it

is

as a

when they become 1*

just because

good

in

we do

itself,

imjjerative,

that

and

to


;

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

10 calculate,

with some

partiality,

others measures or warrants the

whether the good proposed tc amount of grievance to ourselves,

instead of accepting with gladness the opportunity of sacrifice as a Be this as it may, it is not necessary to insist personal advantage.

upon the matter here

since there are

;

useful channels of self-sacrifice, for those

than any connected with the

While with the

in

choose to practise

it,

arts.

second branch, that which

its

arts,

always higher and more

who

the justice of the feehng

especially concerned

is

more doubtful

still

is

;

it

depends on our answer to the broad question, can the Deity be indeed honored by the presentation to

by any

of value, or

direction

Him

of zeal or

of any material objects

wisdom which

is

not im-

men ? For, observe, it is not now the question whether the fairness and majesty of a building may or may not answer any moral purpose

mediately beneficial to

it is

not the result of labor in any sort of which

but the bare and mere

costliness

themselves

we

:

are these,

as

we

answered

by

;

another and a

it

and time

it

BQm

as doing

will

honor

?

be contradictorily or imper-

admits of entire answer only

far different question,

Him

the decision of feeling, or of

refer this question to

conscience, or of reason merely, fectly

are speaking,

labor

ask, independently of their result, accept-

able offerings to God, and considered

So long

we

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the substance and

when we have met

whether the Bible be indeed

one book or two, and whether the character of

God

revealed in the

Old Tfkstament be other than His character revealed in the New. IV. Now, it is a most secure truth, that, although the particular ordinances divinely appointed for special purposes at any given period of man's history, may be by the same divine authority abrogated at another, it is impossible that any character of God, appealed to or described in any ordinance past or present, can ever be changed, or understood as changed, by the abrogation of that ordinance. is

one and the same, and

for ever,

is

although one part of His pleasure

time rather than anow'^r, and although the sure

is

to be consulted

circumstances of men.

may

be by

Him

man

may

be expressed at one

mode

in

which His plea-

graciously modified to the

Thus, for instance,

order to the understanding by

it

was necessary

sacrifice.

that, in

of the scheme of Redemption,

that scheme should be foreshown from the beginning

bloody

God

pleased or displeased by the same things

But God had no more pleasure

in

by the type of

such

Siicrifice ir


THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE. time of Moses than

tlie

any

tiation for sin

we may not

that

worthlessness of

when

lie lias

sacrifice

He

;

never accepted as a propi-

but the single one in prospective

any shadow of doubt on

entertain all

now

11

other sacrifice than this

and

;

this subject, the

proclaimed at the very

is

was most imperatively demanded. God was a spirit, and could be worshipped only in spirit and in truth, as singly and exclusively when every day brought its claim of typical and material service or ofiering, as now when He asks for none but time

typical sacrifice

that of the heart. So, therefore,

manner

traced which

God

is

it

a most safe and sure principle that,

any

of performing

we

rite

may legitimately

are either told, or

same circumstances

at that time, those

some

that, for

manner; unless

special purpose,

stances should be withdrawn.

more

force

to the completeness of the rite in

only were added to

V. Now, was

was offered? was

to

be

such circum-

will that

this aro-iiment will

human

its

uses

and

have

all

the

bearings, and

as being in themselves pleasing to

it

God.

necessary to the completeness, as a type, of the

it

Levitical sacrifice, or to it

at all

may

can be shown that such conditions were not essential

if it

poses, that

now His

And

Him

which they

has been afterwards revealed

it

is

it

the

conclude, pleased

will please

times, in the perforaiance of all rites or oflBces to

attached in like

if in

any time, circumstances can be

at

its

utihty as an exj^lanation of divine pur-

should cost anything to the person in whose behah'

On

the contrary, the sacrifice which

be God's free

gift

;

and the

cost

of,

it

it

foreshowed,

or difficulty of obtaining,

the sacrificial type, could only render that type in a measure obscure,

and

less expressive

vide for

men.

all

this costliness

acceptableness of the sacrifice.

my God

God would in the end prowas generally a condition of the

of the oflfering which

Yet

" Neither will I offer unto the

of that which doth cost

me

nothing."*

Lord

That costhness,

must be an acceptable condition in all human offerings at for if it was pleasing to God once, it must please Hira always, unless directly forbidden by Him afterwards, which it has therefore,

all

times

;

never been.

Again, was

it

offering, that it

necessary to the typical perfection of the Levitical

should be the best of the flock?

Bpotlessness of the sacrifice renders

ÂŤ 2 Sam. xxiv. 24.

it

more

Doubtless the

expressive to the Chris

Deut. xvi. 16, 17.


THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

12

mind

tian

but was

;

it

because so expressive that

it

was

actually,

and

Not at all. It waa demanded by God ? demanded by Him expressly on the same grounds on which an " Offer earthly governor would demand it, as a testimony of respect.

in

it

so

many

words,

now unto thy

it

possessions to

its

a bold dishonoring of

it

Him who

God

God

the purposes

fulfil

indicated a feeling that would grudge the

gave them

(I

;

and because

it

was

Whence it may be whatever offerings we may now see reasay not what these may be), a condition

in the sight of

infalhbly concluded, that in

son to present unto

the less valuable offering was

did not image Christ, nor

of sacrifice, but because best of

And

governor."*

rejected, not because

of their acceptableness will be now, as

man.

was then, that they should

it

be the best of their kind. VI. But farther,

was

it

necessary to

the carrying out of the

Mosaical system, that there should be either art or splendor in the

form or services of the tabernacle or temple the perfection of any one of their typical

?

offices,

Was

it

necessary to

that there should be

that hanging of blue, and purple, and scarlet ? those taches of brass and sockets of silver ? that working in cedar and overlaying with gold ? One thing at least is evident there was a deep and awful :

m

danger

it;

might be associated to

whom

in the

they had seen

The

paid.

God whom they

a danger that the

minds of the

serfe of

similar gifts offered

so worshipped,

Egypt with the gods and similar honors

probability, in our times, of fellowship with the feelings

of the idolatrous Romanist is absolutely as nothing compared wdth the danger to the Israehte of a sympathy with the idolatrous Egyptian

;^

no

into the

no unproved danger ; but proved fatally by month's abandonment to their own will a fall

speculative,

their fall during a

most serWle idolatry

;

;

yet

marked by such

offering's to their

idol as their leader was, in the close sequel, instructed to bid offer to

God.

awful kind

:

it

them

This danger was imminent, perpetual, aLÂťd of the most was the one against which God made provision, not

by commandments, by threatenings, by promises, the most urgent, repeated, and impressive but by temporary ordinances of a

only

;

severity so terrible as almost to

people. His attribute of mercy.

dim for a time, in the eyes of His The principal object of every insti-

tuted law of that Theocracy, of every

Mai.

i.

8.

judgment sent

forth in

its


!

IS

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE. was

vindication,

to

mark

to tlie people ELis hatred of iilolatry

a

;

hatred written under their advancing steps, in the blood of the Canaanite,

when

and more

sternly

in the darkness of their

still

own

desolation,

the children and the suckhngs swooned in the streets of Jeni

Yet

salem, and the lion tracked his prey in the dust of Samaria.*

made

mortal danger provision was not

ao-ainst this

in one

way

(to

man's thoughts the simplest, the most natural, the most effective), by withdrawing from the worship of the Divine Being whatever could shape the imaguiation, or hmit the idea of

delio-ht the sense, or

way God

This one

Deity to place.

such honors, and accepting

for

demanding

refused,

Himself such

for

himself

local dwelling, as

been paid and dedicated to idol gods by heathen worshippers

;

had and

what reason ? Was the glory of the tabernacle necessary to set image his divine glory to the minds of His people ? What purple or scarlet necessary to the people who had seen the great river for

forth or

of

Egypt run

scarlet to the sea,

under His condemnation

golden lamp and cherub necessary

who had

for those

on Mount

?

What

seen the

fires

and its golden Wliat silver clasp courts opened to receive their mortal lawgiver ? and fillet necessary when they had seen the silver waves of the Red Sea clasp in their arched hollows the corpses of the horse and his rider ? Nay not so. There was but one reason, and that an eterthat as the covenant that He made with men was accomnal one panied with some external sign of its continuance, and of His remembrance of it, so the acceptance of that covenant might be marked and signified by use, in some external sign of their love and and obedience, and surrender of themselves and theii-s to His will that their gratitude to Him, and continual remembrance of Him,

of heaven faUing like a mantle

Sinai,

!

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

;

might have

at once their expression

the presentation to fold,

Him, not only

not only of the

all

treasures of

the

hand that

fi-uits

of the earth

wisdom and beauty labors

;

and

their

of the

;

enduring testimony in

firstling's

and the

of the herd and

tithe of time,

but of

of the thought that invents, and

of wealth of wood,

and weight of stone

;

of

the strength of iron, and of the light of gold.

And

let

principle

men

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

^I

us not

now

might

lose sight of this

broad and unabrogated long as

say, incapable of being abrogated, so

shall receive e-irthly gifts

Âť

Lam.

ii.

from God.

11.

2 Kings,

Of xvii.

all

25.

that they have his


— THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

14

^

to Him, or in so far and in *o much He ia and of the treasure, of the strength and of the mind, of the time and of the toil, offering must be made reverently and if there be any difference between the Levitical and tbe tithe

mi^t be rendered

forgotten

of the

skill

Christian offering,

it is

:

;

range as

in

its

of

sacrificial.

typical in

more immediate

the other

be more

Vn.

left

or

undone.

specifically It

may be

much

just so

meaning, as

His temple

visibly dwell in

only through our faihng faith are

its

it is

the wider

thankful instead

There can be no excuse accepted because the Deity

now

does not

that the latter

it is less

if

He

invisible

is

it

is

calls

more sacred this ought to be done, and not Yet this objection, as frequent as feeble, must ;

answered.

has been said

that a better and

;

nor any excuse because other

:

it

ought always to be

more honorable

offering

is

said, for it is true

made

to our Master in

ministry to the poor, in extending the knowledge of His name, in tlie

practice of the \drtues

by which that name

material presents to His temple.

think that any other kind or

Assuredly

manner of

is

hallowed, than in so

it is

:

woe

may

to all

who

any wise take the place of these Do the people need place to pray, and calls to hear His word ? Then it is no time for smoothing pillars or carving pulpits let us have enough first of walls and roofe. Do the peojjle need teaching from house to house, and bread from day to day ? Then they ai'e deacons and ministers we want, not architects. but let us examine oui-selves, and I insist on this, I plead for this offering

in

!

;

;

see

if this

work. is

be indeed the reason

The question

is

for

om- backwardness in the lesser

not between God's house and His poor

not between God's house and His Gospel.

:

it

between God's Have we no tesselated colors on our floors ? no

house and ours.

It is

on our roofs ? no niched statuary in our corridors ? no gilded furnitm-e in our chambers ? no costly stones in oiu* cabinets ? Has even the tithe of these been offered ? They are, or they ought to be, the signs that enough has been devoted to the great purposes frescoed fancies

of

human

stewardship, and that there remains to us

spend in luxury selfish

one

;

but there

is

a

gi-eater

and

what we can

j5rouder luxury than this

that of bringing a portion of such tilings as these into

sacred ser\ice, and

them for a memorial* that our has been hallowed by the remembrance

presenting

pleasure as well as our

toil

* Num. xxxi. 54.

Psa. Ixxvi. 11.


;;

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE. of

Him who

gave

bot^-i

15

And

the strength and the reward.

until

do not see how such possessions can be retained I do not understand the feehng which would arch in happiness. our own gates and pave our own thresholds, and leave the church the feeling which enriches with its narrow door and foot- worn sill has been done,

this

I

;

own chambers with all manner of costliness, and endures the bare There is seldom even so wall and mean compass of the temple. severe a choice to be made, seldom so much self-denial to be exercised*

our

There are isolated

depend upon a this

ca^es, in

and

true luxury, felt

is

which men's happiness and mental activity but then

certain degree of luxury in their houses tasted,

of instances nothing of the kind

and profited by.

;

In the plurahty

attempted, nor can be enjoyed

is

and that which they can it and might be spared. It will be seen, in the course of the following chaptei-s, that I am no advocate for meanness of private habitation. I would fain introduce into it all magnificence, care, and beauty, where they are possible but I would

men's average resources cannot reach reach, gives

them no

;

pleasure,

;

not have that useless expense in unnoticed

fineries or formahties

and graining of doors, and fringing of curtains, things which have become foolishly and things on whose common appliance hang habitual

cornicings of ceihngs

and thousands such apathetically

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

which there never yet belonged the blessing of giving one ray of real pleasure, or becoming of the remotest or most things which cause half the exj^ense of hfe, and contemptible use

whole

trades,

to

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

destroy

more than

half

its

comfort, raanhness, respectabihty, freshness,

I know what it is to hve in and a hearth of mica slate and I know it to be in many respects healthier and happier than hving between a Turkey carpet and gilded ceiling, beside a steel grate and I do not say that such things have not their plaxje polished fender.

and

facility.

I speak

a cottage with a deal

from experience

floor

and

roof,

:

;

and propriety but I say this, emphatically, that the tenth part of the expense which is sacrificed in domestic vanities, if not absolutely and meaninglessly lost in domestic discomforts and incumbrances, ;

would,

if

collectively ofiered

and wisely employed, build a marble

church for every town in England such a church as it should be a joy and a blessing even to pass near in our daily ways and walks, ;

and

as

it

would bring the hght

into the eyes to see fi'om afar, hfting

height above the purple crowd of humble roofe. I do not want a marble church VIII. I have said for every town

its fair

;


THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

16 for

every village

own

nay, I do not want marble cliurclies at

;

sake, but for the sake of the spirit that

chm'ch has no need of any

pendent of them, her pmity

The

visible splendors is

in

and

;

it

her power

;

some degree opposed

simplicity of a pastoral sanctuary

an urban temple

all for

would build them.

is

may be more

is

then

The inde-

to them.

loveher than the majesty of

than questioned whether, to

the people, such majesty has ever been the source of any increase of effective piety It is

;

but to the

not the church

we

buildei*s it

admiration, but the act of adoration

And

has been, and must ever be.

want, but the sacrifice ;

;

not the

not the emotion of gift,

but the givuig.*

how much more charity the full understanding of this might among classes of men of naturally opposite feelings and how

see

admit,

;

much more

There

nobleness in the work.

is

no need to offend by

Your

importunate, self-proclaiming splendor.

gift

may

be given in

an unpresuming way. Cut one or two shafts out of a porphyry whose preciousness those only would know who would desire it to be so used

;

capitals,

add another month's labor to the under-cutting of a few whose dehcacy will not be seen nor loved by one beholder

of ten thousand

see that the simplest masonry of the edifice be and substantial and to those who regard such things, their witness wih be clear and impressive to those who regard them not, ;

perfect

;

;

But do not think the feehn^; itself a folly, or the act itself useless. Of what use was that dearly bought water of the well of Bethlehem Tvith which the King of Israel slaked the dust of Adullum ? yet was not thus better than if he had drunk it? Of what use was that passionate act of Christian sacrifice, against which, first uttered by the false tongue, the very objection we would now conquer took a sullen tone for ever ?* So also let us not ask of what use our offeriuo; is to the church it is at least better for us than if it had been retained for ourselves. It may be better all will at least

be inoffensive.

:

for others also

must always cence of

:

there

fearfully

is,

and

at

any

Avidely

a chance of this though we shun the thought that the magnifi-

rate,

;

the temple can materially add to the efficiency of the

worship or to the power of the ministry.

whatever

we

or abate, as

and

offer, let it if

fallacy of

not interfere

mth

Whatever we

replacing, the zeal of the other.

That

is

Romanism, by which the true sphit of â&#x20AC;˘ John

xii.

5

do, or

the simplicity of the one, the abuse Christian


H

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE. oflfering

temple

is

the danger and

;

it is

—but

never cognizant

in

its tinsel

to the concealment of

what

and

is

offering of gratitude

rewarded, wliich

Romanist

is

really

which

not in

its

reahty

glitter, in

the gilding of the

embroidery of dingy robes and being frequently thrust forward

in

all this

;

lie,

of which the lower people are

it,

and painting of the image,

crowding of imitated gems

Of an

;

of their church decoration

e\'il

not in the true wealth and art of

ahrine

The treatment of tLe Papists surface work throughout and

contradicted.

directly

eminently exhibitory

is

good or great is

in their buildino^.'

neither to be exhibited nor

neither to win praise nor purchase salvation, the

(as such)

has no conception.

IX. While, however, I would especially deprecate the imputation of any other acceptableness or usefulness to the gift itself than that which

it

observe,

receives from the sphit of

that

there

its

presentation,

it

may

be well to

a lower advantage which never

is

fails

to

accompany a dutiful observance of any right abstract principle. While the first fr'uits of his possessions were required from the Israelite as a testimony of fidehty, the payment of those fii*st fruits was nevertheless rewarded, and that connectedly and specifically, by Wealth, and length of days, and and experienced rewards of his offering, be the objects of it. The tithe paid into

the increase of those possessions. peace, were the promised

though they were not to

the storehouse, was the express condition of the blessing which there

should not be room enough to receive.

God

be of which the to it

And

never forgets any work or labor of love

;

it

will

be thus always

and whatever

it

:

may

and best portions or powers have been presented and increase sevenfold. Therefore, though may not be necessarily the interest of rehgion to admit the service

Him, he

of the

arts,

first

will multiply

the arts

^vill

devoted to that service

never flomish until they have been primarily

devoted, both

by

architect

the one in scrupulous, earnest, affectionate design

and employer by by the other in ;

;

expenditure at least more frank, at least less calculating, than that which he would admit in the indulgence of his own private feelings. Let this principle be but once fairly acknowledged among us and -er it may be chilled and repressed in practice, however feeble ;

be

its

real

influence,

however the sacredness of

diminished by counter-workings of vanity and

it

may

ba

yet

its

self-interest,

mere acknowledgment would bring a reward and with our present accumulation of means and of intellect, there would be such an ;


;

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

18

impulse and vitality given to art as

And

century.

quence

I

do not

it

has not

since the thirteenth

measure of every grea;

I should, indeed, expect a larger

:

felt

than a natural conse-

assert this as other

be always given where those faculties had been wisely and religiously employed but the impulse to which I

and

spiritual faculty to

;

refer,

result

humanly spealdng, certain and would naturally from obedience to the two great conditions enforced by the

would

be,

;

Spirit of Sacrifice,

that we should in everything do our best we should consider increase of apparent labor as

first,

and, secondly, that

an increase of beauty

A

in the building.

few practical deductions

from these two conditions, and I have done.

X. For the first it is alone enough to secure success, and it is want of observing it that we continually fail. We are none of us so good architects as to be able to work habitually beneath our and yet there is not a building that I know of, lately strength :

for

;

raised,

wherein

it

is

not sufficiently evident that neither architect

nor builder has done his best.

modern work.

It

is

the especial characteristic of

All old work nearly has been hard work.

It

may

be the hard w^ork of children, of barbarians, of rustics but it is always their utmost. Ours has as constantly the look of money's ;

worth, of a stopping short wherever and whenever we can, of a lazy comphance with low conditions never of a fair putting forth of our Let us have done with this kind of work at once cast strentrth. do not let us degrade ourselves volunoff every temptation to it let us tarily, and then mutter and mourn over our short comings ;

:

:

;

human

confess our poverty or our parsimony, but not belie our intellect.

of

how

not even a question of

It is

it is

to

doino- better.

be done

Do

not

;

it

let

;

do not

rigid imitations of mediaeval statuary.

common

prototypes. fet

us go to

are to do, bur

is not a question of doing more, but ot us boss our roofs with wretched, half-

worked, blunt-edged rosettes

to

how much we

let

us flank our gates with

Such things are mere

insults

and only unfit us for feeling the nobihty of their We have so much, suppose, to be spent in decoration-; the Flaxman of his time, whoever he may be, and bid

sense,

liim carve for us

a single statue,

frieze or capital, or as

many

as

we

can afford, compeUing upon him the one condition, that they shall be the best he can do place them where they will be of most value, ;

and be

content.

niches empty.

Our other

No

matter

capitals :

may be mere blocks, and

better our

our other

work unfinished than

all

bad.


; :

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE. It

may

19

be that we do not desire ornament of so high an order a less developed style, also, if you will, rougher

choose, then,

material

;

the law wliich

we pretend

to

do and to

choose, therefore, the

and

we

are enforcing requires only that

what

both be the best of their kind hatchet work, instead of the Flaxman

give, shall

Norman

but

let it be the best hatchet work and if you cannot afford marble, use Caen stone, but from the best bed and if not stone, brick, but the best brick preferring always what is good of a

frieze

statue,

;

;

;

lower order of work or material, to what not only the

way

is

bad of a higher

for this

;

improve every kind of work, and to put every kind of material to better use but it is more honest and unpretending, and is in harmony with other just, upright, and manly principles, whose range we shall have presently to take into is

to

;

consideration.

XL

The other

condition which

of the appearance of labor this before ;*

and

it is,

upon

somewhat remarkable hmits. be exj^lained

why

to notice,

architecture.

was the value

I have spoken of

indeed, one of the most frequent sources of

pleasure which belong to the

to

we had

labor,

art,

For

always, however, within certain it

does not at

as represented

first

appear easily

by materials of

value,

wrong or error, bear being wasted while the waste of actual workmanship is always painful, so soon as it is apparent. But so it is, that, while precious materials may, with a certain profusion and negligence, be employed for the magnificence of what is seldom seen, the work of man cannot be carelessly and idly bestowed, without an immediate sense of wrong as if the streng-th of the h\-ing creature were never intended by its Maker to be sacrificed in vain, though it is well for us sometimes to part with what we esteem precious of substance, as showing that in such a service it becomes but dross and dust. And in the nice balance between the straitening of effort or enthusiasm on the one hand, and vainly casting it away upon the other, there are more questions than can be met by any but very just and watchful feeling. In general it is less the mere loss of labor that offends us, than the lack of judgment impHed by such loss so that if men confessedly work for work's sake, and it does not appear that they are ignorant should, without sense of

;

;

;

wher3 or how to make their labor * Mod. Painters, Part

I.

tell,

Sec.

we 1.

shall not

Chap. 3.

be grossly


THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

20 offended.

On

we

the contrary,

shall

be pleased

if

the

-w >rk

in carrying out a principle, or in avoiding a deception. is

be

lost

indeed,

a law properly belonging to another part of our subject, but

may

be allowably stated here,

of a building,

some

parts of

that,

are hidden from the eye which are

it

not well that the ornament

cealed

;

credit

withdrawn

:

is

given for

not lawfully to be

pediment

left

consistent ornament,

cease

in

the

should not be

it

parts

it

con

deceptivelj

in the sculpture of the backs of the

as, for instance,

statues of a temple

some

should

and

it,

it

whenever, by the construction

others bearing

contmuation of

the is

It,

;

never, perhaps, to be seen, but yet

unfinished.

And

so in the working out of

which

it is best to err on the and in the carrying round of string courses, and other such continuous work not but that they may stop sometimes, on the point of going into some palpably unpenetrable recess, but then let them stop boldly and markedly, on some distinct terminal ornament, and never be supposed to exist where they do not. The arches of the towers which flank the transepts of Rouen Cathedral have rosette ornaments on their spandrils, on the three \dsible sides none on the side towards the roof. The right of this is rather a

ornaments

in dark concealed places, in

side of completion

;

;

;

nice point for question.

Xn. Visibihty, however, we must remember, depends, not only on situation, but on distance and there is no way in which work is more painfully and unwisely lost than in its over delicacy on pai-ts Here, again, the principle of honesty must distant from the eye. govern our treatment we must not work any kind of ornament which is, perhaps, to cover the whole building (or at least to occur on all parts of it) delicately where it is near the eye, and rudely where it That is trickery and dishonesty. Consider, is removed from it. ;

:

what kinds of ornaments will tell in the distance and what and so distribute them, keeping such as by their nature are ,dehcate, down near the eye, and throwing the bold and rough kinds and if there be any kind which is to be both of work to the top near and far off", take care that it be as boldly and rudely wrought first,

near,

;

where

it is

well seen as where

it is

distant, so that the spectator

may

and what it is worth. Thus chequered patterns, and in general such ornaments as common workmen can but bas-reUefs, and execute, may extend over the whole building and the common fine niches and capitals, should be kept down,

know

exactly

what

it

is,

;


;

.

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

21

sense of this will always give a building dignity, even thougli there

be some abruptness or awkwardness, in the resulting arrangements.

Thus

San Zeno

at

a parallelogram of the front, reaching to the

height of the capitals of the columns of the porch.

we

though most

find a simple,

lovely, Httle arcade

only blank wall, with square face shafts.

grander and better than

bad work, and

may

where we cannot

Rouen*

and

at Verona, the bas-reliefe, full of incident

interest, are confined to

if

Above these, and above that,

The whole effect is tenfold had been covered with

the entu-e facade

serve for an example of the

afford

;

much.

way

to place httle

So, again, the transept gates of

are covered with dehcate bas-reliefs (of which I shall speak

up to about once and a half a man's and above that come the usual and more \dsible statues and niches. So in the campanile at Florence, the circuit of bas-rehefs is on its lowest story above that come its statues and above them all at gTeater length presently)

height

;

;

;

its

pattern mosaic, and twisted columns, exquisitely finished, like

all

work of the time, but still, in the eye of the Florentine, rough and commonplace by comparison with the bas-reliefs. So generally the most dehcate niche work and best mouldings of the French Gothic are in gates and low windows well within sight

Italian

although,

it

being the very

exuberance for

effect,

there

spirit is

of that

style

to

occasionally a bui-st

to

trust

its

upwards and

blossoming unrestrainably to the sky, as in the pediment of the west front of Rouen, and in the recess of the rose window behind it,

where there are some most elaborate flower-mouldings, all but invisible from below, and only adding a general enrichment to the deep shadows that reheve the shafts of the advanced pediment. It is observable, however, that this very work is bad flamboyant, and has corrupt renaissance characters in

its

detail as well as use

;

while

and grander north and south gates, there is a very noble proportioning of the work to the distance, the niches and statues which crown the northern one, at a height of about one hundred feet from the ground, being alike colossal and simple; visibly so from below, so as to induce no deception, and yet honestly

in the earlier

and well

finished above,

*- Henceforward, for the dral

town

church

in this

manner,

and

all

that they are expected to be

;

the

sake of convenience, when I name any catheme be understood to speak of its cathedra]

let


;

22

THE LAMP OF SACRrFICE.

and as delicately wrouglit any work of the period. Xin. It is to be remembered, however, that while the ornaments

features very beautiful, full of expression,

as

in every fine ancient building, without exception so far as I

most dehcate at the tity on the upper parts.

are

In high towers this

sion

and penetration of the superstructure

and

richly pierced

crowns of

late

is

to, is

union of the two principles, delicate

adorning

bas-reliefe

windows

its

massy

attracts the

slender intricacy, and a rich cornice crowns the whole.

such truly its

The campanile of

an exquisite instance of the

foundation, while the open tracery of the upper

by

and divi-

hence the hghter work

;

Gothic towers.

Giotto at Florence, already alluded

its

perfectly natural

being as necessary as the

light, the sohdity of the foundation

eye by

am aware,

base, they are often in greater eflfective quau"

fine cases of this

disposition the

upper work

quantity and intricacy only, as the lower portions

In

is effective

by dehcacy

so also in the Tour de Beurre at Rouen, where, however, the detail is

massy throughout, subdividing

mth

not connected

XIV.

Finally,

of

I

it

In

ascends.

its

discussion

is

our present subject.

work

may

late, especially

fault of aU.

but

is less safe,

be wasted by being too good

material, or too fine to bear exposure teristic

meshes as

into rich

the bodies of buildings the principle

and

;

this,

of renaissance, work,

is

for its

generally a charac-

perhaps the worst

do not know anything more painful or

pitiful

than

the kind of ivory car\ing with wliich the Certosa of Pavia, and part of the CoUeone sepulchral chapel at Bergamo, and other such buildings, are incrusted, of

without exhaustion

;

to be forced to look at it,

nor because

but because

it

is

it lool^s

which it is not possible so much as to think and a heavy sense of the misery it would be, it

at

all.

bad work as if

it

And

not from the quantity of

this is

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;much

were only

of

fit

it

is

inventive and able

;

to be put in inlaid cabinets

and velveted caskets, and as if it could not bear one driftinir shower gnawing fi'ost. We are afraid for it, anxious about it, and tormented by it and we feel that a massy shaft and a bold shadow would be worth it all. Nevertheless, even in cases like these, much depends on the accomplishment of the great ends of decoration. If the ornament does its duty if it is ornament, and its points of shade and light tell in the general effect, we shall not be offended by finding or

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

that the sculptor in his fulness of fancy has chosen to give

more than these mere

points of light,

much

and has comjx)sed them of


â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

; ;

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

But

groups of figures. if it

have no

23

distant,

if the ornament does not answer its purpose, no truly decorative power if generally seen it ;

be a mere incrustation and meaningless roughness, chagTined by finding

when we

we

shall only

be

look* close, that the incrustation has

and has millions of figures and histories in it and would be the better of being seen through a Stanhope lens. Hence the greatness of the northern Gothic as contrasted with the but it It reaches nearly the same extreme of detail latest Italian.

cost yeai-s of labor,

;

never loses sight of

architectural purpose, never

its

in its deco-

fails

not a leaflet in it but speaks, and speaks fai- oif too rative power and so long as this be the case, there is no limit to the luxuriance in which such work may legitimately and nobly be bestowed. ;

;

XV. No

limit

it is

:

one of the affectations of architects to speak Ornament cannot be overcharged if it be

of overcharged ornament.

good, and

always overcharged

is

the opposite page,

(fig. 1.),

when

of pure flamboyant

I have given,

on

;

upper portions, especially the receding itself is

bad.

That gate I suppose to be the most exquisite piece work existing for though I have spoken of the

gate of Rouen.

gate

it is

one of the smallest niches of the central

-svindow, as degenerate, the

and has hardly any renaissance taint. these niches (each with two figm-es beneath

of a purer period,

There are four strings of

round the porch, from the gi'ound to the top of the arch, with besides three intermediate rows of larger niches, far more elaborate

it)

;

the six principal canopies of each outer pier.

The

number

total

of

the subordinate niches alone, each worked hke that in the plate, and

each with a different pattern of traceries in each compartment, is one hundred and seventy-six." Yet in all this ornament there is not one cusp, one

finial,

that

is

useless

the grace and luxuriance of to the uninquiring eye

majesty, while vault.

It is

it

;

and

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;not a

it

all

all its

stroke of the chisel

are \isible

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

is

in vain

sensible rather

even

minuteness does not diminish the

increases the mystery, of the noble

and unbroken

not less the boast of some styles that they can bear

ornament, than of others that they can do without

it

;

but we do

not often enough reflect that those very styles, of so haughty sim-

and would be and monotones of the art it is to its far happier, far higher, exaltation that we owe those fair fronts of variegated mosaic, charged with wild fiincies and dark hosts of imagery, thicker and quainter than ever filled the plicity,

owe part

wearisome ;

if

of their pleasurableness to contrast,

universal.

They

are but the rests


;

24

THE LAMP OF SACRIFICE.

depth of midsummer dream leaves

;

;

those vaulted gates, treliised \\ith close

those window-labyiinths of twisted tracery and starry hght

those misty masses of multitudinous pinnacle and diademed tower

the only witnesses, perhaps, that remain to us of the faith and fear of nations.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

away all know not reward.

All else for which the builders sacrificed, has passed their lining interests, for

what they

and aims, and achievements. "We and we see no evidence of their

labored,

Victory, wealth, authority, happiness

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

all

have departed,

though bought by many a bitter sacrifice. But of them, and their life, and their toil upon the earth, one reward, one evidence, is left to us in those

gray heaps of deep-wrought stone.

They have taken

with them to the grave their powers, their honors, and their errors

but they have

left

us their adoration.

;


CHAPTER

II.

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

There

I.

a marked likeness between the virtue of

is

enlightenment of the globe he inhabits

up

dation in vigor

to the limits of their domains, the

separation from their contraries

of the two

:

same

same

the gTa-

essential

twilight at the meeting

a somethino- wider belt than the line where the world that strange twilight of the

night,

into

rolls

—the

man and

—the same diminishing N-irtues

;

that dusky

debateable land, wherein zeal becomes impatience, and temperance

becomes

and

severity,

and each and

all

justice

becomes

Nevertheless, with

the gTcater

dimness increases gradually, we set

and, hap[)ily,

;

cruelty,

and

faith superstition,

vanish into gloom.

may

number

turn the

of them, though

their

moment of their simshadow back by the way by which

may mark

the

had gone down but for one, the line of the horizon is irregular and undefined and this, too, the very equator and girdle of them Truth that only one of which there are no degi-ees, but breaks all

it

:

;

and

;

rents continually

;

that pillar of the earth, yet a cloudy pillar

;

and narrow line, which the very powers and \irtues that lean upon it bend, which policy and prudence conceal, which kindness and courtesy modifv, which courao;e overshadows with his shield, imagination covers with her wings, and charity dims with her tears. that golden

How while

difficult it

must the maintenance of that authority

has to restrain the hostility of

all

be, which,

the worst principles of

which is conby the one and betrayed by the other, and which regards with the same severity the lightest and the boldest \iolations of its law There are some faults slight in the sight of love, some errors sliglit in the estimate of wisdom but truth forgives no insult, and endures no stain. We do not enough consider this nor enough di'ead the slight man, has

also to restrain the disorders of his best

tinually assaulted

!

;

;


;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

26

and continual occasions of through the color of

we

its

We

offence against her.

darkest associations, and

worst jjurposes.

That indignation which

profess to feel at deceit absolute,

We resent calumny, h}"}30crisy not because they are untrue.

is

indeed only at deceit malicious.

and treachery, because they harm us, Take the detraction and the mischief

from the untruth, and we are little offended by And yet it praise, and we may be pleased with it.

sum of mischief in

nor treachery that does the largest

and are felt only the glistening and softly spoken lie

zealous he of the partizan, the merciful

man

he of each

the fountains of It

distinct.

its

The

if

;

mystery over

we thank

pierces,

happy

as

we

in that the

even when we have wilfully

left

moralists less frequently confused the gi'eatness

The two characters

unpardonableness.

are altogether

greatness of a fault depends partly on the nature of

the person against \vhom its

the

of the friend, and the

in a desert

us,

But ;

it.

would be well

of a sin with

remains with

they

;

he of the pohtician, the

lie

man who

would thank one who dug a well

into

it

not calumny

the world

to himself, that cast that black

humanity, through wliich any thirst for truth still

is

the amiable fallacy

;

patriotic lie of the historian, the provident

careless

tm-n

it;

in being conquered.

are continually crushed, it is

are too niucli

its

in tlie habit of looking at falsehood in

consequences.

Its

it is

committed,

j^artly

upon the extent of

pardonableness depends, humanly speaking,

on the degree of temptation to

One

it.

of circumstances de-

class

termines the weight of the attaching punishment

claim to remission of punishment

and

:

since

it is

;

.

the other, the

not easy for

men

them to know the relative consequences, of crime, it is usually wise in them to quit the care of such nice measurements, and to look to the other and clearer to estimate the relative weight, nor possible for

condition of culpability, esteeming those faults worst which are com-

mitted under least tem.ptation. of the injurious and malicious

yet

it

I

do not mean

to diminish the

sin,

of the selfish

and

blame

deliberate falsity

seems to me, that the shortest way to check the darker forms is to set watch more scrupulous against those which have

of deceit

mingled, unregarded and unchastised, with the current of our life. Do not let us lie at all. Do not think of one falsity as harmless, and another as slight, and another as unintended. Cast them all aside â&#x20AC;˘

they

may

be light and accidental

the smoke of the

pit, for

all that

;

;

but they are an ugly soot from

and

it

is

better that our heaits


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

8^

o which is hke writing fair, and comes only

should be swept clean of tliem, without over care as

Speaking truth

largest or blackest.

bv

i^ractice

it is

;

less a

matter of

is

^\^ll

than of habit, and I doubt

occasion can be trivial which permits the practice

and

any

if

foraiation of

To speak and

act truth with constancy and precision and perhaps as meritorious, as to speak it under ntimidation or penalty and it is a strange thought how many men there are, as I trust, who would hold to it at the cost of fortune or hfe, for one who would hold to it at the cost of a little dail}^ trouble. And seeing that of all sin there is, perhaps, no one more flatly opposite to the Almighty, no one more " wanting the good of virtue and

such a habit.

is

nearly as

difficult,

;

of being," than this of lying,

it

is

surely a strange insolence to

fall

on hght or on no temptation, and surely becoming an honorable man to resolve that, whatever semblances or

into the foulness of

fallacies

it

the necessary course of his hfe

to believe,

none

may

compel him to bear or

shall disturb the serenity of his voluntary actions,

nor diminish the reality of his chosen delights. II.

K

this

be just and wise

for

truth's sake,

much more

is

it

necessary for the sake of the delights over which she has influence. For, as I advocated the expression of the Spirit of Sacrifice in the acts

and pleasures of men, not

as if thereby those acts could fin-ther

the cause of religion, but because most assuredly they might therein

be infinitely ennobled themselves, so I would have the Spirit or of Truth clear in the hearts of oui* artists and handicraftsmen,

Lamp

not as

if

the truthfid practice of handicrafts could far advance the

cause of truth, but because I would fain see the handicrafts them-

by the spurs of chivalry and what power and universality there is

selves ui'ged to see

and how

:

in the consulting or forgetting of

it

it is,

indeed, marvellous

in this single principle,

hes half the dignity or

and act of man. I have before endeavored to and I believe a volume, show its range and power in painting instead of a chapter, might be wi'itten on its authority over all that But I must be content with the force of is great in architecture. decline of every art

;

instances few festation

may

and

familiar, belie\^ng that the occasions of its

be more easily discovered by a desire to be

mani-

true, thai:

embraced by an analysis of truth. Only it is very necessary in the outset to mark clearly wherein c insists the essence of fallacy as distinguished from supposition. III. F<^r it might be at firbt Jiought that the whole kingdom of


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

28 imagination was

imagination

absent or impossible partly consist in i.

in the

e.

deception also.

ofie of

its

confesses

its

actic

I'l t

:

n

of

tliâ&#x201A;Ź

;

knowledge of

it

so

and the pleasure and nobihty of the imagination knowledge and contemplation of them as such, their actual absence or impossibility at the

moment of their apparent deceives

Not

a voluntary sunmioning of the conceptions of tbingg

is

becomes madness.

own ideality

When the imagination

presence or reality.

;

It is

when

it

a noble faculty so long as

ceases to confess this,

it is

it

insanity.

All the difference hes in the fact of the confession, in there beino; no deception.

necessary to our rank as spiritual creatures, that

It is

should be able to invent and to behold what as moral creatures, that

time that

it is

IV. Again,

whole

Not

not

we should know and

;

and

we

to our rank

confess at the

same

not. it

might be thought, and has been thought, that the nothing else than an endeavor to deceive.

art of painting is

so

it

:

is,

on the contrary, a statement of certain

clearest possible way.

For instance

a mountain or of a rock

;

I begin

:

by

not do this distinctly, and I draw

will

is

I desire to give

telling its shape. its

facts, in

the

an account of

But words

shape, and say, " This was

'ts shape." Next I would fain represent its color but words will not do this either, and I dye the j^aper, and say, " This was its color." :

;

Such a process may be carried on until the scene appears to exist-j and a high pleasure may be taken in its apparent existence. This is a communicated act of imao-ination, but no lie. The lie can consist only in an assertion of its existence (which is never for one instant made, implied, or believed), or else in false statements of forms and colors (which are, indeed, made and beheved to our great .OSS,

And

continually).

observe, also, that so degrading a thing

deception in even the approach and appearance of

it,

that

is

all paintintr

which even reaches the mark of apparent realization, is degraded in I have enough insisted on this point in another place. V. The \dolations of truth, which dishonor poetry and paintino-

so doing.

are thus for the

But

in

most part confined

violation of truth

is

possible

to the treatment of their subjects.

and a

architecture another

less subtle,

a direct

;

ftilsity

tlie

natm-e of material, or the quantity of labor,

full

sense of the word,

wrong

;

it is

more contemptible,

of assertion respecting

as any other moral delinquency; it is unworthy and of nations and it has been a sign, where\'er ;

^nd

this

is,

in the

as truly deserving of reprobation alike of architects it

has widely anj


â&#x20AC;&#x201D; THE LAMP OF TRUTH. vrith ':o..eration existed, of is

a

not a sign of worse tlian

can be accounted

for

some

which has

for

subjects of

human

debasement of the arts want of severe

that

;

of a general

ttis,

intellect, as

among

and

other

all

This withdrawal

matters of conscience.

the faculties concerned with

art,

m

has destroyed the arts themselves, has also rendered

it

it

jirobity

only by cmr knowledge of the strange separation

centuries existed between the arts

of conscientiousness from

while

giilar

si

t3^

a

measure nugatory the evidence which otherwise they might have presented respecting the character of the respective nations

whom

they have been cultivated

otherwise,

;

it

than strange that a nation so distinguished for

and

among

might appear mora

its

general uprightness

the English, should admit in then- arcliitecture more of

faith as

and

pretence, concealment,

than any other of this or of past

deceit,

time.

They

are admitted in thoughtlessness, but with fatal effect

the art in which they are practised.

architectural exertion, these petty chshonesties w^ould be

accomit for

It is the first step

all.

do away with these

to

We

our power.

may

;

the

first,

and not the

upon

were no other causes

marked every great

the failm-es wliich of late have

for

If there

least,

occasion for

enough

to

towards greatness

because so endently and easily in

command good, or beautiful, command an honest architecture

not be able to

or mventive architecture

;

but we can

the meagreness of poverty

may

:

be pardoned, the sternness of

utility

but what is there but scorn for the meanness of deception ? VI. Architectural Deceits are broadly to be considered under three

respected

heads

;

:

1st.

The suggestion of a mode

the true one

;

of structure or support, other than

as in pendants of late Gothic roofs.

2d. The painting of surfaces to represent some other material than that of which they actually consist (as in the marbling of wood), or

the deceptive representation of sculptured ornament upon them. 3d. The use of cast or machine-made ornaments of any kind.

Now,

may

it

be broadly stated, that architecture

exactly in the degi-ee in which

all

will

be noble

these false expedients are avoided.

there are certain degrees of them, which, owing to their frequent usage, or to other causes, have so far lost the nature of deceit Ne\-ei-tlieless,

as \o

no

be admissible

deceit,

jewellery

because it

is

;

it

as, for instance, gilding, is

wliich

is in

architecture

therein not urderstood for gold; while in

a deceit, because

it

is

so understood, ^nd therefore


30

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

altogetlier to

of the

sti'ict

which

let

So

be reprehended.

many

rules of nght,

tliat

there arise, in the apphcatlon

exceptions and niceties of conscience

;

us as briefly as possible examine.

1st. Structural Deceits. I have hmited these to the deterand purposed suggestion of a mode of support other than the ti"ue one. The architect is not hound to exhibit structure Lor are we to complain of him for concealing it, any more than we should

VII.

mmed

;

regret that the outer sm-faces of the its

anatomy

which as

to

an

human

fi-ame conceal

much

of

nevertheless, that builchng will generally be the noblest,

;

intelligent eye discovers the gi*eat secrets of its structure,

an animal form does, although fi-om a careless observer they

be concealed.

In the vaidtino- of a Gotliic roof

throw the strength mto the

it

may

no deceit

is

to

and make the intermediate vault a mere shell. Such a structure would be presumed by an intelligent observer, the fii'st time he saw such a roof; and the beauty of its traceries would be enhanced to him if they confessed and followed the hues of its main strength. If, however, the intermediate shell were

hke the

to look

made

rest,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

of

ribs of

wood

it,

instead of stone,

this would, of course,

and wliitewashed

be direct

deceit,

and

altogether unpardonable.

There

is,

however, a certain deception necessarily occurring in

relates, not to the points, but to the manThe resemblance in its shafts and ribs to the external relations of stems and branches, which has been the gTound of so much foolish sj^eculation, necessarily induces in the mind of the

Gothic architecture, which

ner, of support.

spectator a sense or belief of a correspondent internal structure is

to say, of a fibrous

hmbs, and an

and continuous strength from the root

elasticity

conmiunicated u'pwards^

;

that

into the

sufficient for the

The idea of the real conditions, of a gTeat weight of ceiling thrown upon certain narrow, jointed Hues, which have a tendency partly to be crushed, and partly to separate and be pushed outwards, is with difficulty received and the more so when the pillars would be, if unassisted, too slight for the weight, and are supported by external fl}^ng buttresses, as in

support of the ramified portions.

;

the apse of Beauvais, and other such achievements of the bolder

Now, there is a nice question of Gothic. we shaU hardly settle but by considering

conscience in that,

when

this,

the

which

mind

is

informed beyond the possibility of mistake as to the true nature of tilings,

the affecting

it

with a contrary unpression, however distinct


â&#x20AC;&#x201D; ;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH. is

no

dislioneity,

we have their

but on the contrary, a legitimate ap|teal to the

For

imagination.

31

instance, the greater part of the ha})piness

in contemphiting clouds, results

which

fi^om the im[Âťrcssion of

having massive, luminous, warm, and mountain-like surfaces in the sky frequently depends upon our considerinoj ;

and our delight it

as

But we know

a blue vault.

we know

damp

the cloud to be a

the sky to be a lightless abyss.

while there

much

is

the contrary, in both instances

fog, or

a

There

is,

drift v'

snow flakes and no dishonesty, ;

therefore,

dehght, in the h-resistibly contrary impression.

In the same way, so long as

we

and

see the stones

and are

joints,

not decei\'ed as to the points of support in any piece of architecture,

we may

rather praise than regret the dextrous artifices which compel

us to feel as

Nor

is

if

there were fibre in

its

shafts

and

hfe in

branches.

its

even the concealment of the support of the external buttress

rej^rehensible, so long as the pillars are not

their duty.

For the weight of a roof

spectator generally has no idea,

is

sensibly inadequate to

a circumstance of which the

and the provisions

for

conse-

it,

quently, circumstances whose necessity or adaptation he could not

understand. is

no deceit, therefore, when the weight to be borne unknown, to conceal also the means of bearing it,

It is

necessarily

leaving only to be perceived so

much

adequate to the weight supposed. as

much

as they are ever

added support than, in

of the support as

For the

is

indeed

shafts do, indeed, bear

imagined to bear, and the system of

no more, as a matter of conscience, to be exhibited, the human or any other form, niechanical provisions for is

those functions which are themselves unperceived.

But the moment

that the conditions of weight are comprehended,

both truth and feeling require that the conditions of support should

Nothing can be worse,

be also comprehended.

either as

judged by

the taste or the conscience, than affectedly in r.d equate supports

suspensions in

air,

and other such

wisely reprehends, for piers

of

St Sophia

Cambridge, to

is

this

at

With

Constantinople.

and

vanities.

Mr.

Hope

arrangement of the main ICing's

a piece of architectural juggling,

be condemned, because Vlll.

tricks

reason, the

if

College possible

Chapel,

still

more

less sublime.

deceptive concealments of structure are to be classed,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

more blameable, deceptive assumptions of it the introduction of members which should have, or profess to have, a duty, and have no]:ie. 0}ie of the most general instances of this though

still


.

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

32 will

be found in

form of

tlie

member when the

tlie

Tl a

flying buttress in late Gothic.

of course, to convey support from one pier to

use of that

is,

another

plan of the

building renders

necessaiy or

it

desirable that the supporting masses should be divided into groups fi'om the

the most frequent necessity of this kind arising

mediate range of chapels or

aisles

and

The

their supporting piers.

between the nave or chdt walU

natural,

healthy,

and

beautiful

arrangement

is

that of a steeply sloping bar of stone, sustained

an arch with

its

spandiil carried farthest

and dying into the

down on

outer pier

vertical of the

;

inter-

by

the lowest side,

that pier being, oÂŁ

;

course, not square, but rather a piece of wall set at right angles to

the supported walls, and, it

if

need

crowned by a pinnacle

be,

The whole arrangement

greater weight.

is

became

In later Gothic the pinnacle

in the choir of Beauvais.

gradually a decorative member, and was used in

There

for the sake of its beauty.

is

to give

exquisitely carried out

all

no objection

places merely

to this

as lawful to build a pinnacle for its beauty as a tower

;

it

is

just

but also the

;

became a decorative membo*"'; and was used, first, where it was not wanted, and, secondly, in forms in which it could be of no use, becoming a mere tie, not between the pier and wall, but between the wall and the top of the decorative pinnacle, thus buttress

attaching

the very point where

itself to

The most

could not be resisted. that I

remember (though

Netherlands), pierced

the

is

buttress,

it

its

thrust, if

having an

richly decorated,

ever, but stand

they are

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

made

any,

prevails partially in all the spires of the

lantern

of St.

ogee

.

Ouen

curve,

have

e^'idently

round the central tower,

Rouen, where

at

looks

calculated to bear a thrust as a switch of willow

huge and

it

flagrant instance of this barbarism

;

about as

and the

no work

to

like four idle

tlie

much

pinnacles,

do whatsoservants, as

heraldic supporters, that central tower being merely a

hollow crown, wliich needs no more buttressing than a basket does. In

fact, I

praise

do not know anything more strange or unwise than the

ladshed upon

Gothic in Europe

this lantern

;

it

is

one of the basest pieces of

flamboyant traceries of the

last and most and decoration resembhng, and deserving httle credit than, tlie burnt sugar ornaments of elaborate confectionery. There are liai-dlv anv of the mao-niticent and serene constructions of the early Gotliic which have not, in the Of>urse of time, been gradually thinned and pared away into these

degraded forms

;

its

and more

;'

its

entire plan


;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

33

which sometimes indeed, when their hnes truly follow the an interest like that of the

skeletons,

structure of the original masses, have fiurous

framework of leaves from which the substance has heen

dissolved, but

which are usually distorted

as well as emaciated,

and

remain but the sickly phantoms and mockeries of things that were they are to true architecture \Ahat the Greek ghost was to tlie

armed and hving frame

and the very winds that whistle through

;

the threads of them, are to walls, as to the voice of the

IX. Perhaps the most

diapasoned echoes of the ancient

tlie

man was

fruitful

the pining of the spectre.^

source of these kinds of corruption

which we have to guard against in recent times, is one which, nevertheless, comes m a " questionable shape," and of which it is not easy to determine the proper laws and limits

The

of iron. chapter,

independent of

is

mean

I

;

the use

definition of the art of architecture, given in the first

mateiials

its

:

nevertheless,

that

art

having been, up to the beginning of the present centmy, practised for the most part in clay, stone, or wood, it has resulted that the sense of proportion and the laws of structure have been based, the part, on the necessities consequent and that the entire or on the employment of those materials principal employment of metallic framework would, therefore, be

one altogether, the other in great

;

generally

felt

as a departure

from the

Abstractedly there a}ipears no reason

wood

1^ well as

;

and the time

first

why

principles of the

probably near

is

art.

iron should not be used

when

a

new system

of architectural laws will be developed, adapted entirely to metallic

But

construction.

I

believe

S3mipathy and association metallic

work

;

that

and that not without reason.

in its perfection the earliest, as in its fii'st,

of

arts,

possession

the

will

of the

management

always

of iron.

and on the

or stone

:

and

all

necessary Its

first

it

present

necessarily tlie

is

any barbarous either

for

existence

it

;

that

and is

is its

the or

its earliest laAvs

accessible

in

to say, clay, wood,

cannot but be generally

the chief dignities of architecture

nation,

the obtaining

upon the use of materials

surface of the earth

as I think

of

For architecture being

elements

precede, in

science

must, therefore, depend quantity,

tendency

the

to limit the idea of architecture to non-

is

historical use

felt ;

that one of

and

since tlie

latter is partly dependent on consistency of style, it will be felt right to retain as far as may be, even in periods of more advanced science,

the materials

and

principles of earlier ages.

2*


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

S4 X. But

wlietlier tins

idea respecting

we

size,

at present in

are

or not,

tlie fact is,

that evert"

the habit of acting or judging, depends on

presupposition of such materials to

me

be granted

proportion, decoration, or construction, on wliicii

:

and

as I both feel myself unable

escape the influence of these prejudices, and believe that

readers will be equally so,

it

may

me

be perhaps permitted to

my to

assume that true architecture does not admit iron as a constructive materiaV and that such works as the cast-iron central spire of Rouen Cathedral, or the iron roofs and pillars of our railway stations, and

some of our churches, are not architecture at all. Yet it is e\ident may, and sometimes must, enter into the construction to a certain extent, as nails in wooden architecture, and therefore as neither can we well deny legitimately rivets and solderings in stone to the Gothic architect the power of supporting statues, pinnacles, or and if we gTant this, I do not see how we can traceries by iron bars of

that metals

;

;

chain

help allowing Brunelleschi his iron

aroimd

dome

the

of

Florence, or the builders of Salisbury their elaborate iron binding

of the central tower.**

If,

however,

we would

sophistry of the grains of corn and the heap,

which may enable us to stop somewhere.

may

metals

not

fall

into the old

we must

This rule

is,

find a rule I think, that

be used as a cement but not as a sup2Mrt.

cements of other kinds are often so strong that the stones

For as

may

easier

be broken than separated, and the wall becomes a sohd mass without reason losing the character of architecture, there is no reason why, when a nation has obtained the knowledge and practice of iron for that

work, metal rods or rivets should not be used in the place of cement^

and establish the same or a greater strength and adherence, Avithout in any wise inducing departm*e from the types and system of architecture before established

;

nor does

it

make any

difference except

whether the metal bands or rods so employed, be in the body of the wall or on its exterior, or set as stays and cross-

as to sightliness,

so only that the use of them be always and distinctly one which might be superseded by mere strength of cement as for

bands

;

;

instance it is

by

if

a pinnacle or mullion be propped or tied by an iron band,

evident that the iron only prevents the separation of the stones

lateral force,

which the cement would have done, had

it

been

But the moment that the iron in the least deo-ree takes the place of the stone, and acts by its resistance to cruehino-, and bears superincumbent weight, or if it acts by its own weight as

strono' enouo'h.


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

35

a counterpoise, and so supersedes the use of pinnacles or buttressei a lateral thrust, or if, in the form of a rod or girder, it

in resisting is

used to do wliat wooden beams would have done as well, that

instant the building ceases, so far as such applications of metal extend to

be true architecture.

XL it

is

The

well in

hmit, however, thus determined, all

lawfulness

limit of

so that, although the

;

an ultimate one, and

is

how we approach

things to be cautious

the utmost

employment

of metal

within this limit cannot be considered as destroying the very beincr

and nature of

architecture,

will,

it

extravagant

if

and

derogate from the dignity of the work, as well as (which to our present point)

from

not informed as to

its

the

is

frequent, especially

For although the spectator

honesty.

strength of the cement employed, he ynW generally conceive the stones of the buildino- to be separable and his estimate of the skill of the architect Avill be is

quantit}^

or

;

based in a great measiu*e on his supposition of this condition, and of the difficulties attendant upon

and

it

it

so that

:

always more honorable,

it is

has a tendency to render the style of architecture both more

mascuhne and more scientific, to employ stone and mortar simply as such, and to do as much as possible wdth the \\v_iglit of the one and the strength of the other, and rather sometimes to forego a grace, or to confess a weakness, than attain the one, or conceal the other,

by means vergmg upon dishonesty. Nevertheless, where the design is of such delicacy and shghtness as, in some parts of very fair and finished edifices, it is desirable that it should be and where both its completion and security are in a ;

measure dependent on the use of metal,

hended

and

;

much

so only that as

good masonry

;

and

is

no

man may

use

it

;

for

not such use be repre-

may

be, by good mortar workmanship admitted

islovenly

through confidence in the iron helps that of wine, a

let

done as

it

in this license as

is

for his infirmities,

but not

in

for his

nourishment.

XII. And, in order to a\'oid an over use of this liberty,

be well to consider what application

may

the dovetaihng and various adjusting of stones iÂŤ

;

foi

when any come

necessary to help the mortar, certainly this ought to

the use of metal, for that

it is

both safer and more honest.

any objection can be made

shapes the architect pleases

*.

for

to the fitting of

although

it

would

be conveniently made of

it

artifice

before

I cannot see

the stones in any

would not be

desirable


36

THE LAMP OF

TIILTII,

to see buildings put togetlier like Chinese puzzies, there must always be a check upon such an abuse of the practice in its difficulty nor ;

is it

necessary that

it

should be always exhibited, so that

it

be under

stood by the spectator as an admitted help, and that no principal stones

them

are introduced in positions apparently impossible for

although a riddle here and there, in unimportant features, times serve to draw the eye to the masonry, and

make

it

to retain,

may someinteresting,

as well as to give a delightful sense of a kind of necromantic in the architect.

There

a pretty one in the

is

door of the cathedral of Prato (Plate IV. tenance

the

of

serpentine, cannot be

below.

separate

visibly

Each block

is,

lintel

fig. 4.)

stones,

;

power

of the lateral

where the mainmarble

alternate

understood until their cross-cutting of course, of the form given in

is

and seen

fig. 5.

XIII. Lastly, before leaving the subject of structural deceits, I

would remind the

architect

who

thinks that I

narrowly limiting his resources or his

art,

am

unnecessarily and

that the highest greatness

and the highest wisdom are shown, the first by a noble submission to, the second by a tlioughtful providence for, certain voluntarily admitti?J restraints. Nothinix is more evident than this, in that su]3reme government which is the example, as it is the centre of all others. The Divine Wisdom is, and can be, shown to us only in its meeting and contending Arith the difficulties which are voluntarily, and /or the sake of that contest, admitted by the Divine Omnipotence and these difficulties, observe, occur in the form of natural laws or ordinances, which might, at many times and in countless ways, be infiinged with apparent advantage, but which are never infiinged, :

whatever costly arrangements or adaptations their observance necessitate for the

most apposite animals.

No

accomphshment of given purposes.

to our present subject

naturally

is,

of secreting

still,

The elephant

carbon

;

made

why

the system of the

capable,

a.^

that of the

instead of phosphate of lime, or

flint,

may

example

the structure of the bones of

reason can be given, I believe,

higher animals should not have been Infusoria

is

Tlie

so fra)uing the bones of

adamant

more

at once.

had the earthy part of their bones been as agile and hght as grasshoppers, and otter animals might have been framed far more magnificently colossal than any that walk the earth. In other worlds we may, perhaps, see such creations a creation [or every element, and elements infinite. But the architecture of animals Ix^re, is appointed or rhinoceros,

made of diamond, might have been

;


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

God

by

tecture

3^

to be a marble architecture, not a flint nor

and

;

all

manner

utmost degree of strength and

adamant

are adopted to

of expedients

size possible

aiclii

attain thl

under that great limitation.

The jaw of the iclithyosaurus is pieced and riveted, the leg of the megatherium is a foot thick, and the head of the myodon has a double skull

a

lizard

we, in our wisdom, should, doubtless, have given the

,

steel jaw,

and the myodon a cast-iron headpiece, and

forgotten

the great principle to which all creation bears witness, that order

But God shows ns

Hud system are nobler things than power. Himself, strange as

it

may

in

seem, not only authoritative perfection,

but even the perfection of Obedience

—an

obedience to His

own

cumbrous movement of those unwieldiest of His creatures we are remmded, even in His divine essence, of that attrilaws

and

:

in the

human

bute of uprightness in the

own hurt and XIV. 2nd.

creature "that sweareth to his

chano-eth not."

Surface Deceits.

Tliese

may

be generally defined as

some form or material which does commonly in the painting of wood to

the inducing the supposition of

not

actually

exist;

as

marble, or in the painting of

represent

But

relief, (fee.

w^e

must be

consists always in definitely

of

some nicety

to

mark

ornaments in deceptive

careful to observe, that the evil of

attempted deception^ and that

it is

them

a matter

the point where deception begins or ends.

Thus, for instance, the

roof of Milan Cathedral

is

seemingly

covered with elaborate fan tracery, forcibly enough painted to enable it,

in

This

dark and removed position, to deceive a careless observer.

its is,

of course, gross degra'lation

;

even of the rest of the building, acd

much

of the dignity

it

destroys

is

in the very strongest

terms

to be reprehended.

The

roof of the Sistine Chapel has

o-rissaille

minirled with the fiiruros of

much

architectural design in

its fi-escoes

:

and the

effect is

increase of dignity.

In wdiat

lies

the distinctive character

In two points, principally closely associated

them

in its

of a piece

;

wth

:

Fii'st.

?

That the architecture

forms and cast shadows, that botli are at once

and

is

so

the figures, ?nd has so grand fellowship with

as the figures

must

necessaril}-

bo

felt

to

be

ptiinted, the archi

is known to be «o too. There is thus r^o deception. Second. That so great a painter as Michael Angelo would always

tecture

stop short in such minor parts of his design, of the (.«egTee of

\-iilgai


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

38 force wliicli reality

would be necessary to induce the supj^osition of tl.eir it may sound, would never j)aint badly

and, strangely as

;

enouo'h to deceive.

But though right and Avrong are thus found broadly opposed in works severally so mean and so mighty as the roof of Milan and that -ji

the Sistine, there are works neither so great nor so mean, in which

the limits of right are vaguely defined,

and

will

need some care to

care onh^, however, to ajjply accurately the broad prin-

determine

;

ciple with

which we

set

no form nor material

out, that

to be

is

deceptively rejaresented.

XV. it

Endently, then, painting, confessedly such,

is

Whether

does not assert any material whatever.

no deception be on wood :

it

or on stone, or, as will naturally be supposed, on plaster, does not

Whatever the

matter.

precious

of which

and

nor can

;

it

good painting makes

To cover

gives us no information.

this plaster

desirable a

material,

with

mode

more

it

ever be said to deceive respecting the ground

it

fresco,

is,

brick with

therefore perfectly legitimate

of decoration, as

it is

j^laster, ;

and

as

constant in the great periods.

Verona and Venice are now seen deprived of more than half their former it depended far more on their frescoes than their marbles.

splendor

The

;

plaster, in this case, is to

panel or canvass.

But

be considered as the gesso gi'ound on

cement, and to divide cement with joints that it may look like stone, is to tell a falsehood and is just as contemptible a procedure as the other is noble. to cover brick with

this

;

It

being

la^^^ul to paint then, is it la^vful to paint

long as the painting

is

confessed

degree, the sense of

it

be

real

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

no.

Pisa, each

lost,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

but

if,

everything

?

So

even in the slightest

and the thing painted be supposed In the Carapo Sauto at

Let us take a few instances. fresco

is

surrounded with

colored patterns of great elegance

The

yes

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;no

a border composed of part of

it

fiat

in attempted relief.

flat surface being thus secured, the figures, though do not deceive, and the artist thenceforward is at liberty to put forth his whole power, and to lead us through fields, and groves, and depths of pleasant landscape, and to soothe us with

certainty of

the size of

life,

the sweet clearness of far off sky, and yet never lose the severity of his primal purpose of architectural decoration.

In the Camera di Correggio of San Lodovico at Parma, the shadow the walls, as if with an actual arbor and the troops of children, peeping through the oval opening-s, luscious trellises of \-ine

;


THE LAMP OF

ito

color

and

may

faint inliglit,

39

TR'uTH.

well be expected every instant to break

The grace of their attitudes, and the endent gi-eatness of the whole work, mark that it is painting, but even so and barely redeem it from the charge of falsehood saved, it is utterly unworthy to take a place among noble or legititliroiigli,

or hide behind the covert.

;

mate

architectural decoration.

In the cupola of the

duomo

made a dome

of

some

Parma tlie same painter has repre much deceptive power, that he has

of

sented the Assumption ^\^th §o

thirty feet diameter look like a cloud-wrapt

opening in the seventh heaven, crowded with a rushing sea of angelsNot so for the subject at once precludes the possi Is this -wi-ong ? :

bility of deception.

We

might

ha\'e taken the \ines for a veritable

pergoda, and the children for its haunting ragazzi but we know the let him put stayed clouds and moveless angels must be man's work his utmost strength to it and welcome, he can enchant us, but cannot ;

;

betray.

We may

thus apply the rule to the highest, as well as the art of

daily occurrence, always

remembering that more is to be forgi\'en to mere decorative workman and this

the great painter than to the

;

because the former, even in deceptive portions, will not trick us so grossly; as we have just seen in Correggio, where a worse painter would have made the thing look like life at once.

especially,

decoration, some is, however, in room, villa, or garden admission of trickeries of this kind, as of pictured landscapes at the extremities of alleys and arcades, and ceilings like skies, or painted fitting

There

with prolongations upwards of the architecture of the walls, which thino-s have sometimes a certain luxury and pleasureableness in places meant for idleness, and are innocent enough as long as they are regarded as mere toys. XVI. Touching the

false representation of material, the question

and the law more sweeping all such imiand inadmissible. It is melancholy to think of the time and expense lost in marbUng the shop fi-onts of London alone, and of the waste of our resources in absolute vanities, in things about which no mortal cares, by which no eye is ever arrested, unless painfully, and which do not add one whit to comfort, or

is

infinitely

more

simple,

;

tations are utterly base

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

even to that great object of commercial art conspiBut in architecture of a higher rank, how much more is

cleanliness, or

cuousness. it

to be

condemned

?

I

have made

it

a rule in the present work not

Âť


THE LAMP OF

40 blame

to

express

specific*

my sincere

Ay

;

TRtrfH.

but I may, perhaps, be permitted,

wliile I

admiration of the very noble entrance and general

architecture of the British

Museum,

my

to express also

regret that

the noble o-ranite foundation of the staircase should be

mocked

at

landing by an imitation, the more blameable because tolerably

its

successful.

The only effect of it is to cast a suspicion upon the true upon every bit of granite afterwards encountered. But a doubt, after it, of the honesty of Memnon himself

stones below, and

One

feels

even less

this,

however derogatory to the noble architectm-e around it, is want of feeling with which, in our cheap modern

painful than the

churches,

we

about the altar frame

suffer the wall decorator to erect

works and pediments daubed with mottled

and to dye in the same fashions such skeletons or caricatures of columns as may emerge above the pews this is not merely bad taste it is no unimcolor,

:

;

portant or excusable error w^hich brings even these shadows of vanity

and falsehood

The

into the house of prayer.

just feehng requires in church furnitm'e

and

unaffected, not fictitious nor tawdry.

is,

first

that

It

it

condition which

should be simple

ma}^ be in our power

make it beautiful, but let it at least be pure and if we cannot permit much to the architect, do not let us permit anything to the upholsterer if we keep to solid stone and solid wood, whitewashed, if we like, for cleanliness' sake (for whitewash has so often been used to

;

;

as the dress of noble things that

it

has thence received a kind of

must be a bad design indeed, which is grossly offensive. I recollect no instance of a want of sacred character, or of any marked and painful ugliness, in the simplest or the most awkwardly built village church, where stone and wood were roughly and nakedly used, and the windows latticed with white glass. But noljility itself), it

the smoothly stuccoed walls, the

flat roofe with ventilator ornaments, the barred windows ^vith jaundiced borders and dead gTound square panes, the gilded or bronzed wood, the painted iron, the wretchec

upholstery of curtains and cushions, and pew heads and altar railings, and Birmingham metal candlesticks, and, above all, the gTeen and

yellow sickness of the all

them to

fiilse

— who are they who ?

I

marble

disguises

have never spoken to

all,

observe

;

falsehoods

who defend them ? who do any one who did like them, though

like these things

?

many who thought them

matters of no consequence. Perhaps not to religion (though I cannot but believe that there are many to

whom,

as to myself,

such th 1 igs are serious obstacles to the repoa«


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

mind and temper

of

we

judgment and

feeling

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;yes

shall regard, with tolerance, if not with affection,

of material

ness,

we have been

tliino;s

worship, and be

a fashion so

fictitious

most solemn of and unseemly.

XVII. Painting, however,

is

concealed, or rather simulated

we have

seen,

Whitewash,

no wrong.

a

as

expedient possess,

is,

mode

in

It

which material

merely to conceal

for mstance,

what

therefore, allowable to

any

is,

as

though often (by it

is

not to be

and

is,

understood for what

is

suffer

be tricked out

Gilding has become, from

it.

quent use, equally innocent. merely, and

for

;

sIiqws itself for

It

beneath

is

when we

be regretted as a concealment,

to

falsity.

nothing of what

whatever forms

all services to

not the only

may be

blamed

but

in the habit of associatinix with our

other kinds of decoration,

in

no means always)

;

for assuredly

;

prepared to detect or blame hypocrisy, mean-

little

and disguise

objects belonging to the in

precede devotional exercises)

wliicli slionld

to the general tone of our

41

extent.

asserts fre-

its

it is,

a film

do not say

I

one of the most abused means of magnificence we much doubt whether any use we ever make of it,

it is

:

and

I

balances that loss of pleasure, which, from the frequent sight and

perpetual suspicion of that

is

and

to

l)e

we

it,

verily of gold.

admired as

suffer in the

contemplation of

anj- thino*

meant to be seldom seen, a precious thing and I sometimes wish that think gold was

I

;

truth sliould so far literally prevail as that

all

should be gold that

that notliing should glitter that was not gold.

glittered, or rather

Nevertheless, nature herself does not dispense with such semblance,

but uses hght

for it

art to part with its

;

and

I

have too great a love

burnished

field,

or radiant

for old

nimbus

;

and

only

it

saintly

should

be used with respect, and to express magnificence, or sacredness, and not in lavish vanity, or in sign painting.

any more than of that of

color,

it is

Of

its

expedience, howe^er,

not here the place to speak

;

we

what is lawful, not what is desirable. common modes of disguising surface, as of powder

are endeavorino^ to determine

Of

other and less

of lapis lazuli, or mosaic imitations of colored stones, I need hardly

speak. is

\M'ong

The rule will apply to commonly enforced ;

insufficient aj)pearance of

all alike,

also

that whatever

is

pretended,

by the exceeding ughness and

such methods, as lately in the style of reno-

by which half the houses in Venice have been defaced, the brick covered first with stucco, and this painted with zigzag veins But there is one more form of architecin imitation of alabaster. vation


;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

42 tural fiction, wliicli

respectful

XVIII.

I

mean

what

is

needs

meant by a church's being

in nearly all cases, only that

is,

it

the facing of brick with precious stone.

well known, that

It is

marble

built of

so constant in the gi'eat j^eriods that

is

judgment.

a veneering of marble

has been fastened on the rough brick wall, built with certain projections to receive

it

Now,

stones, are

external slabs.

e\ident, that, in

is

it

and that what appear to be massy

;

more than

nothinof

case, the question of right is

tliis

the same ground as in that of gilding.

If

it

on

be clearly understood

that a marble facing does not pretend or imply a marble wall, there is

no harm

in

it

and

;

as

it is

stones are used, as jaspers

and

also evident that,

serpentines,

it

when very

precious

must become, not only

an extravagant and vain increase of expense, but sometimes an actual imjDossibihty, to obtain mass of them enough to build with, there is no resource but against

it

this of

veneering

on the head of

and

rience found to last as long,

of masonry.

It

therefore, to

is,

mosaic on a large

;

scale,

nor

is

there anything to be alleged

durability, such

work having been by expeany kind

in as perfect condition, as

be considered as simply an art of

the ground being of brick, or any other

and when lovely stones are to be obtained, it is a mamier which should be thoroughly understood, and often practised. Nevertheless, as we esteem the shaft of a column more highly for its beinomaterial

;

of a single block,

and

value which there

is

as

we do not

in things of

so I think that walls themselves

complacency

if

regret the loss of substance

and

sohd gold, siher, agate, or ivory

may

;

be regarded with a more just

they are known to be

all of noble substance and demands of the two principles of which we Sacrifice and Truth, we should sometimes ;

that rightly weighing the

have hitherto spoken

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

ornament than diminish the unseen value and what we do and I beheve that a better manner of design, and a more careful and studious, if less abundant decoration would follow, upon the consciousness of thoroughness in the substance. And, indeed, this is to be remembered; with respect to all the points we have examined that while we have traced the limits of hcense, rather spare external

consistency of

;

;

we have It is

not fixed those of that high rectitude which refuses license. thus true that there is no falsity, and much beauty in the use

of external color, and that

it

patterns on whatever surfaces it is

not

less true, that

is

lawful to paint either pictures or

may seem

to need enrichment. But such practices are essentially unarchitectui'ai


TUE LAMP OP TRUTH. and

wliile

we cannot

say that there

is

43

actual dang-er in an over

usiÂť

of them, seeing that they have been alwcujs used most lavishly in the

times of most noble

yet they divide the work into two parts and

art,

kinds, one of less durability than the other, in process of ages,

and

leaves

it

architectural

;

and

of the immediate time

;

nor

tecture are those of natural stone,

and with achieve

?

;

it

may be

called in, for the dehglit

every resource of

and

I

The true colors of archiwould fain see these taken

Every* variety of hue, from pale yellow to

and brown,

is

entirely at our

nearly every kind of gi'een and gi'ay

is

also attainable

purple, passing

command

away from

qualities of its

I should, therefo..,

this, as I think, until

a more stable kind has been exhausted. full.

dies

not until this has been secured

is

it

that the accessoiy power of painting

advantage of to the

which

have noble

That enduring noblesse

own, naked and bare. call truly

imless

it,

through orange,

red,

:

and pure white, what harmonies might we not Of stained and variegated stone, the quantity is unlimited,

these,

where brighter colore are required, let glass, be used in mosaic a kind of work as stone, and incapable of losing its lustre by time

the kinds innumerable

;

and gold protected by

glass,

durable as the

solid-

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;and

let the painter's work be reserved for the shadowed loggia and inner chamber. This is the true and faithful way of building where this cannot be, the de\4ce of external coloring may, indeed, be employed ^vithout dishonor but it must be ^^^th the warning reflection, that a time ynW come when such aids must pass away, and when the builchng will be judged in its lifelessness, d}nng the death The Better the less bright, more enduring fabric. of the dolphin. transparent alabasters of San Miniato, and the mosaics of St. Mark's, are more warmly filled, and more brightly touched, by every return ;

;

of

morning and evening rays

died like the

iris

;

while the hues of our cathedrals have

out of the cloud

;

and the temples whose azure and

purple once flamed above the Grecian promontories, stand in their faded whiteness, like snows which the sunset has left cold.

XIX. The had

last

to deprecate,

form of fallacy which it will be remembered we was the substitution of cast or machine work for

that of the hand, generally expressible as Operative Deceit.

There are two reasons, both weighty, against that

all

cast

and macliine ^vork

is

bad^ as work

;

tiiis

practice

:

the other, that

one, it is

Of its badness, I shall speak in another place, that being dishonest. cannot be evidently no efficient reason against its use wheu other


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

44 had. kind,

Its dislionesty,

a

think,

I

is,

my

however, which, to sufficient

miconditional rejection of

reason

to

rtind,

of the grossest

is

determine absolute and

it.

have often before observed, has two entirely one, that of the abstract beautv distinct sources of ao-reeableness of its forms, which, for the present, we will suppose to be the samo

Ornament,

a.s

I

:

whether they come from the hand or the machine

;

the other, the

human labor and care spent upon it. How great tliis uifluence we may perhaps judge, by considering that there is sense of

latter

not a

any cranny of ruin which has not a beauty in all respects nearly equal, and, in some, immeasurably and superior, to that of the most elaborate sculpture of its stones cluster of

weeds growing

in

:

that

our interest in the carved work, our sense

all

though

it is

tenfold less rich than the knots of grass beside

dehcacy, though ness,

-of its richness,

though

it is

milUonfold

a

consciousness of

a thousandfold

its

less

dehcate

admirable

less

;

;

of

;

of

its

from

results

our

being the work of poor, clumsy, toilsome man.

dehghtfulness depends on our discovering in

Its true

it

admirable-

its

the record

it

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

and heart-breakings of recoveries and joyfulnesses of success aU this can be traced by a practised eye but, granting it even obscure, it is presumed *or undei-stood and in that is the worth of the thing, just as much as the worth of anything else we call precious. The worth of a diamond is simply the understanding of the time it must take to look for it before it is found and the worth of an ornament is the time it must take before it can be cut. It has an intrinsic value besides, which the diamond has not (for a diamond has no more real beauty than a piece of glass) but I do not speak of that at present I place the two on the same ground and I suppose that hand-wrought ornament can no more be generally known from machine work, than a diamond can be known fi-om paste nay, that the latter may deceive, for a moment, the mason's, as the other the jeweller's, eye and that it can be detected only by the closest examination. Yet exactly as a woman of feeling would not wear false jewels, so would a builder of honor disdain false ornaments. The using of them is just as downright and inexcusable a he. You use that which pretends to a worth \vhich it has not which pretends to have cost, and to be, what it did not, and is not; it is an of

and

thoughts,

and

intents,

trials, :

;

;

;

;

;

;

;

;

;

imposition, a vulgarity, an

impertinence, and a

sin.

Do^vn with

it


;

THE LAMP OF fRUTH.

45

it to powder, leave its ragged place upon tlie you have not paid for it, you have no business with you do not want it. Nobody wants ornaments in this world, but

to the ground, grind wall, rather it,

;

everybody wants

integrity.

worth a

fancied, are not

them

board, or build

of

All

the

fair

devices that ever were

Leave your walls as bare as a planed

lie.

baked

mud and

chopped straw,

need be

if

but do not rouo-h-cast them with falsehood. being our general law, and I hold

then,

This,

imperative one than any other I have asserted dishonesty the meanest, as the least necessary t.'xtravagant

utterly

base

and

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

inessential I

this,

say,

thing

and,

;

being

our

;

for

it

a more

and this kind of for ornament is an ;

therefore,

general

if

fallacious,

there

law,

are,

nevertheless, certain exceptions respecting particular substances

and

their uses.

XX. Thus in the use moulded, there diverse

forms.

therefore,

deserves.

may be

is

of brick

:

since that

no reason why

It will

flat

is

known

to be originally

should not be moulded into

never be supposed to have been cut, and,

vnW cause no deception In

it

will

it

;

have only the credit

any quany of

countries, far fi-om

it

stone, cast brick

and most successfully, used in decoration, and and even refined. The brick mouldings of the Palazzo Pepoli at Bologna, and those which run round the marketSo also, tile and place of Vercelh, are among the richest in Italy. that

legitimately,

elaborate,

porcelain work, of which the former

employed

gi-otesquely,

is

but successfully,

in the domestic architecture of France, colored tiles being

inserted in the

diamond spaces between the

crossing timbers

;

and

the latter admirably in Tuscan}^, in external bas-reliefs, by the Ilobbia

which works, while we cannot but sometimes regret the and ill-aiTanged colors, we would by no means blame the

family, in useless

employment

of a material which, whatever

its defects,

excels every

other in permanence, and, perhaps, requires even greater

management than marble.

For

it

is

skill in its

not the material, but the

absence of the human labor, which makes the thing worthless and a piece of terra cotta, or of plaster of Paris, which has been wTought by human hand, is worth all the stone in Carrara, cut by machinery. It is, indeed, possible, and even usual, for men to sink into machines themselves, so that even hand-work has all the characters of mecha;

nism

;

of the difference between living

speak presently

;

all

and dead hand-work I shall is, what it is always in oui

that I ask at present

'


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

46 power

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the

to secure

we have given

confession of

;

what

when we use

so that

Ave

ha, e done, av.d what

stone at

all,

since all stone

ia

by hand, we must not carve it by any artificial stone cast into shape, use machinery neither must we color of stone, or w^hich might in the of ornaments stucco any nor

naturally supposed to be carved ;

for

of the Palazzo Vecchio

at Florence,

over

as

clay,

which

and bronze,

iron,

cast a

But

building.

the

of

eveiy part

materials,

it,

mouldings in the

as the stucco

any wise be mistaken

for

cortile

shame and suspicion ductile and fusible

since these

will

usually be

supposed to have been cast or stamped, it is at our pleasure to remembering that they become precious, employ them as we ^^dll or otherwise, just in proportion to the hand-w^ork upon them, or to ;

the clearness of then reception of the hand-work of their mould. But I beheve no cause to have been more active in the degradation of our natural feehng for beauty, than the constant use of cast iron ornaments. The common iron work of the middle ages was as effective,

simple as

it

hon, and

t^\i3ted

w^as

composed of leafage cut

the workman's

at

contrary, are so cold, clumsy,

a fine

line,

of truth,

and

fiat

;

out of sheet

ornaments, on the

\Tilgar, so essentially

or shadow, as those of cast iron

we can hardly

No

will.

and

while,

incapable of

on the score

allege an)i;hing against them, since they are

always distinguishable, at a glance, from wrought and hammered and stand only for what they are, yet I feel very strongly that

w^ork,

there

no hope of the progress of the

is

arts

of any nation which

indulges in these vulgar and cheap substitutes for real decoration. Tlicir

inefficiency

and

paltriness

I shall endeavor to

show more

conclusively in another place, enforcing only, at present, the general

conclusion that,

we can

if

even honest or allowable, they are tilings in which

never take just pride or pleasure, and must never be employed

any place wherein they might either themselves obtain the credit and better than they are, or be associated with the downrio-ht work to which it would be a diso-race to be found In their

in

of being other

company.

Such

are, I

architecture

more

to be corrupted

subtle forms of

definite law, spirit.

beheve, the three principal kinds of fallacy by which

is liable

it,

;

against which

ther

t

it

is

are, less

however, other and easy to guard by

than by the watchfulness of a manly and unaffected

For, as

it

has been above noticed, there are certain kinds of

deception wliich extend to impressions and ideas only

;

of which


;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH,

Bome

are,

47

indeed, of a noble use, as tliat above referrec.

arborescent look of lofty Gotliic aisles

;

to,

tlie

but of whicli the most part

mucli of legerdemain and .trickery about tLem, that they

liave so

will lower

any

style in

which they considerably prevail

;

and they

are likely to pre vail, when once they are admitted, being apt to catch tiie

fancy alike of uninventive architects and feelingless spectators

just as -NAdth

mean and

the

sense

minds

shallo^x,

of

over-reaching,

are,

in

other matters, delighted

or tickled with the conceit of

detectino- the intention to over-reach

;

and when

subtleties of this

kind are accompanied by the display of such dextrous stone-cutting, or architectural sleight of hand, as

subject of admiration,

may become,

a great chance

it is

if

even by

the pursuit of

itself,

a

them do

not gradually draw us away from

all regard and care for. the nobler and end in its total paralysis or extinction. And against this there is no guarding, but by stern disdain of all display of dexteiity and ingenious device, and by putting the whole force of our fancy into the arrangement of masses and forms, caring no more how these masses and forms are wrought out, than a gTeat It would be easy to give painter cares which way his pencil strikes. many instances of the danger of these tricks and vanities but I shall confine myself to the examination of one which has, as I think,

character of the

art,

;

been the cause of the I

mean

of

its

fall

of Gothic architecture throughout Europe.

the system of intersectional moulding-s, Avhich, on account

great importance, and for the sake of the general reader, I

may, perhaps, be pardoned

XXI.

for explaining elementarily.

I must, in the first place, however, refer to Professor Willis's

account of the origin of tracery, given in the sixth chapter of his Ages since the publication of which I

Architectm-e of the Middle

;

have been not a httle amazed to hear of any attempts made to resuscitate the inexcusably absmd theory of its derivation fi-om imitated vegetable form

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

inexcusably, I say, because

the smallest

acquaintance with early Gotliic architecture would have informed the supporters of that theory of the simple fa<jt, that, exactly in proportion to the antiquity of the work, the imitation of such not exist at is less, and in the earliest examples does mind of a the in question, of a shadow the cannot be There all person famiharised with any single series of consecutive examples,

organic forms

penetrations that tracery arose from the gradual enlargement of the ceuti-al of the shield of stone which, usually suppoi-ted by a

pillar,


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

48 occupied

liead of early windows.

tlie

Professor Willis, perhaps, to the double sub-

somewhat too absolutely

confines his observations

have given, in Plate VIL fig. 2., an interesting case of rude the church penetration of a high and simply trefoiled shield, from arch.

I

of the Eremitani

Padua.

at

But the more frequent and

typical

piercings form is that of the double sub-arch, decorated \^ith various trefoil simple a with arch superior the and it between space the

of

;

under a round arch, in the Abbaye aux Horames, Caen' (Plate fig.

1.)

;

^\^th

tHforium of sixfoils,

2.)

Eii,

and

very

a

;

with quatrefoils,

Rouen

(Plate III.

fig.

awkwardly, and very small quatrefoil above, at

trefoil

Coutances -(Plate

the transept towers of

III.

quatrefoil in the

proportioned

and that of the choir of Lisieux

septfoils, in

with a

;

beautifully

III.

fig.

then, with multiplications of

3.);

the

pointed or round, gi\ang very clumsy shapes of the mtermediate stone (fig. 4., from one of the nave chapels of Rouen, fig.

same 5.,

figures,

from one of the nave chapels of Bayeux), and

out the stony typical

finally,

by

tliinning

reaching conditions like that of the glorious

ribs,

form of the clerestory of the apse of Beauvais (fig. 6.). it ^^^ll be noticed that, during the whole of

XXII. Now,

this

kept fixed on the forms of the penetrations, that is to say, of the lights as seen from the interior, not of the All the grace of the window is in the outline intermediate stone. process, the attention

is

and I have dravm. all these traceries as seen from within, show the effect of the hght thus treated, at first m far off and separate stars, and then gTadually enlarging, approaching, until they come and stand over us, as it were, filhng the whole

of

its lio-ht

:

in order to

And

space with their effulgence.

we have

the

gi'eat,

pure,

and

it is

perfect

in this pause of the star, that

form of French Gothic

;

it

was

when the rudeness of the intermediate space had been conquered, when the hght had expanded to its fullest, and yet

at the instant finally

had not

lost its radiant unity, principality,

of the whole, that faultless

we have

and

^^sible

fii-st

causing

the most exquisite feeling and most

judgments in the management ahke of the tracery and I have given, in Plate IX., an exquisite example of it,

decorations.

from a panel decoration of the buttresses of the north door of Rouen and in order that the reader may understand what truly fine ;

Gothic work for

is,

and how nobly

our immediate purpose,

sections

and mouldings in

it

it will

unites fantasy

and law,

as well as

be well that he should examine

detail (they

are

its

described in the fourth


THE LAMP OF TRUTH. Chapter, §

xxvii.),

and that the more

49

carefully, because this design

belongs to a period in which the most important change took place in the spirit of Gothic architecture,

from the natural progress of any

which, perhaps, ever resulted

That tracery marks a pause between the laying aside of one great ruling princijole, and the taking

up of another

art.

a pause as marked, as

;

clear,

as conspicuous to the

distant \dew of after times, as to the distant glance of the traveller is

the culminating ridge of the mountain chain over which he has

passed.

It

was the gTcat watershed of Gothic art. Before it, all after it, aU was decHne both, indeed, by winding slopes both interrupted, like the gTadual rise and

had been ascent paths and varied

;

tall

;

;

by great mountain

of the passes of the Alps,

outliers, isolated or

branching from the central chain, and by retrograde or parallel

But the

directions of the valleys of access.

mind

is

traceable

up

thence downwards.

to that glorious ridge,

Like a

Catching the eye In

many

And *

oft

above, and

*

at that point,

it

many

* it

*

oft

and

shines afar.

a broken link.

a turn and traverse, as

As though

And

in

human

zone

silver

" Flung about carelessly,

track of the

m a continuous hne,

it

glides.

below, appears to

him who journeys up

were another."

and that

was

instant, reaching the place that

nearest heaven, the builders looked back, for the last time, to the

way by which they had come, and the scenes through which their They turned away from them and their early course had passed. mornino- ho-ht, and descended towards a new horizon, for a time in the warmth of western sun, but plunging with every forward step more cold and melancholy shade. XXIII. The change of which I speak, is expressible in few words but one more important, more radically influential, could not be.

\nto

;

It vras the substitution of the line

for the

mass, as the element of

decoration.

We

have seen the mode

in

which the openings or penetration of

window expanded, until what were, at intermediate stone, became dehcate lines the

first,

awkward forms

of tracery

:

and

I

or

have

been careful in pointing out the pecuhar attention bestowed on the proportion and decoration of the mouldings of the window at Eouen, 3


;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

50

compared with

IX., as

in Plate

beauty and

had caught

traceries

earlier

mouldings, beci.ase that

singularly significant.

care are

They mark

Up

the eye of the architect.

that the

to that time,

up

very last instant in which the reduction and thinning of the intervening stone was consummated, his eye had been on the opento the

on the

ino-s only,

its

possible

last

arrangement of

some form

in

He

stars of light.

a rude border of moulding was shape which he was watching.

did not care about the stone

he needed,

all

it

was the penetrating

But when that shape had received expansion, and when the stone-work became an graceful and parallel lines, that arrangement, hke

a picture, unseen and accidentally developed, struck It had literally not been seen

suddenly, ine^-itably, on the sight. It flashed

before.

out in an instant, as an independent form.

a feature of the work.

became

thouo-ht over

Now,

it,

and distributed

The architect took its members as we

the great pause was at the

it

under his

It

care,

see.

moment when

the space and

It did not the dividing stone-work were both equally considered. The forms of the tracery were seized with a childish last fifty years.

delight in the novel source of beauty

was

cast aside, as

;

and the intervening space I have confor ever.

an element of decoration,

fined myself, in follo^^^ng this change, to the in

which

member

it

is

clearest.

of architecture

;

stood, unless Ave take the pains to trace

which

illustrations, irrelevant to

m the third

Chapter.

I

window, as the feature

But the transition is the same in every and its importance can hardly be underit

in the

universahty of

our present purpose, wA\ be found

pursue here the question of truth, relating

to the treatment of the mouldings.

XXIV. The

reader will observe that, up to the last expansion of

the penetrations, the stone-work was necessarily considered, as actually

of which I

severe and pure

At

it

and unpelding. It was so, also, dui-ing the pause have spoken, when the forms of the tracery were still

is, stiffs

;

delicate indeed,

but perfectly firm.

the close of the period of pause, the

change was

like a

fii'st

sign

of serious

low breeze, passing through the emaciated tracery,

and makino; it tremble. It beo'an to undulate like the threads of a cobweb lifted by the wind. It lost its essence as a structure of Reduced to the slenderness of threads, it began to be stone. The architect was considered as ]Âťossessing also their flexibihty. pleased with this his

new

fancy,

and

set

himself to caiTy

it

out

;


THE LAMP GF TRUTH. and

ma

eye as

time, tlie bai's of tracery were caused to appear to the

little

if

they had been woven together

change which

results in then* first developments, it

This was a

a net.

like

a great principle of truth

sacrificed

expression of the qualities of the material its

61

sacrificed tlie

it

;

and, however delightful

;

was ultimately

ruinous.

For, observe the difference between the supposition of ductility,

and that of elastic structure noticed above in the resemblance to tree That resemblance w^as not sought, but necessary it resulted

form.

;

from the natural conditions of strength

in the jDier or trunk,

many

slenderness in the ribs or branches, while

of the

A tree branch,

gested conditions of resemblance were perfectly true.

though

in a certain sense flexible,

own form

as the rib of stone

;

the tree trunk will bend no the tracery

if

not ductile

it

;

is

as firm in

more than the stone

fragility, elasticity,

not in terms, denied

to disprove the

first

of his materials

;

when

and the

this is a deliberate treachery,

;

all

the traceries

;

by the

first

is

applied

attributes

only redeemed from

visibility of

it affects

while

to the eye,

the art of the architect

conditions of his working,

the charge of direct falsehood

and degrading

all

;

But when when the

pillar.

assumed to be as yielding as a silken cord and weight of the material are

is

its

both of them will }neld up to certain

both of them breaking when those hmits are exceeded

limits,

whole

is

and

other sug-

the stone surface,

exactly in the degree of

its

presence.

XXV. But was not

the declining and morbid taste of the later architects,

w^th thus

satisfied

much

They were delighted

deception.

with the subtle charm they had created, and thought only of creasing

the

as

tracery,

mouldino's

The next

power.

its

step

was

to consider

not only ductile, but penetrable

met each

when two ran

and when two

other, to manao-e their intersection, so that one

should appear to pass through the other, retaining or

;

in-

and represent

parallel

to

its

independence

;

each other, to represent the one as

the ÂŤ^ther, and partly apparent above it. was that which crushed the art. The flexible but the beautiful, though they were ignoble

partly contained within

This form of traceries

were often

penetrated

means

falsity

traceries,

;

rendered, as

finally were,

i]\\

of exhibiting the dexterity of

;.h=;

*tone-cutter, annihilated

both the beauty and dignity of the Gothic types.

momentous

XXVI.

in its consequences deserves

merely the

some

A

system

so

detailed examination,

Li the di-awino- of the shafts of the door at Lisicux, imdei


THE I.AMS

52

OF TRUTH.

the spandi-il, in Plate VII., the reader

^\ill

see tlie

mode of managing

the intersection of similar mouldings, which was universal in the They melted into each other, and became one at great periods. the point of crossing, or of contact

and even the suggestion of

;

sharp intersection as this of Lisieux

sc

usually avoided (this design

is

being, of course, only a pointed form of the earlier

Norman

arcade,

which the arches are interlaced, and lie each over the preceding, and under the folloAving, one, as in Anselm's tower at Canterbury), since, in the plurahty of designs, when moulding-s meet each other, in

they coincide through some considerable portion of their curves,

meeting by contact, rather than by intersection and at the point of coincidence the section of each separate moulding becomes common ;

to the

the

two thus melted into each

circles of

accurately in

the as

same It

S'

Plate IV., the section across the hue

iig. 8.

exactly

s, is

any break of the separated moulding above,

as that across

sometimes, however, happens, that two different moulding-s

meet each and,

Thus, in the junction of

other.

the \^andow of the Palazzo Foscari, Plate VIIL, given

when

This was seldom permitted in the great periods,

other. it

took place, was most awkwardly managed.

Fig.

1.

Plate IV. gives the junction of the mouldings of the gable and

window

That of the gable and that of the vertical of a double cavetto, decorated with ball-flowers and the laro-er sino-le mouldino- swallows up one of the double ones, and pushes forward among the smaller In comparballs ^\it]l the most blundering and clumsy simplicity.

vertical, in the is

composed of a

of the sjnre of Salisbury.

single,

;

ing the sections

a

it is

to be observed that, in the

upper one, the

b represents an actual vertical in the plane of the

window

;

line

while,

d represents the horizontal, in the plane by the perspective line d e. XXVII. The very awkwardness with which such occurrences of difficulty are met by the earlier builder, marks liis dislike of the system, and unwillingness to atti'act the eye to such arrangements.

in the lower one, the line e

of the window, indicated

There

is

another very clumsy one, in the junction of the upper and

sub-arches of the triforium of Salisbury

and

all

;

but

it is

kept in the shade,

the prominent junctions are of mouldings like each other,

and managed with

perfect simplicity.

of the builders became, as of mouldings instead of

we have Jie

But

so soon as the attention

just seen,

fixed

upon the

lines

enclosed spaces, those lines began to

preserve an independent existence wherever they

met

;

and

different


;

THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

momdJngs were

studiously associated, in order to obtain variety o

We

iutersectional line.

justice to note that, in

proportion,

more

itself first in

must, however, do

rclined than

being

it

bjilders tlm

late

that of earher workmen.

It

or arch mouldings,

pillars,

showa who?e

had ongnnally bases formed by the continued base

the central, or other larger, columns

but

the

one case, the habit grew out of a feeling of

the bases of divided

smaller shafts

53

when the eye

felt,

that the dimension of

mth which they were

of the architect

was

mouldino; w^iich

became ricrht

fastidious,

the base

for

of a laro-e shaft, was wrono; for that of a small one, each shaft

an independent base

down on

at

;

;

had

those of the smaller died simply

fii'st,

that of the laro-er

of

grouped

but when the vertical sections of both

became complicated, the bases of the smaller shafts were considered to exist within those of the larger, and the places of their emergence, on nicety,

this

base of a divided column,

as, for

Abbe\ille, looks exactly as

if its

to the

calculated ^vith the utmost

supposition, were

and cut with singular precision

ground

first,

each wdth

so that an elaborate late

;

instance, of those

smaller shafts

there,

The

in clay, leaving their points like

tlie

nave of

in the all

been finished

complete and intricate base, and then

its

the comprehending base of the central pier

them

had

and angles

had been moulded over sticking out here and

edges of sharp crystals out of a nodule of earth. work of this kind is often

exhibition of technical dexterity in

marvellous, the strangest possible shapes of sections being

i

alculated

and the occurrence of the under and emergent forms being rendered, even in places where they are so slight .hat they can hardly be detected but by the touch. It is unpossible to render a very elaborate example of this kind intelligible, without

to a hau-'s-breadth,

some

fifty

interesting

measured and simple

sections;

but

fig.

6.

of the base of one of the naiTow piers between

ha\ing a base with the

square column

k,

contain within

itself

Plate IV.

its

It is part

principal niches.

profile

p

r, is

The

supposed to

another similar one, set diagonally, and

far above the inclosing one, as that the

a very

is

one, fi-om the west gate of Rouen.

recessed part of

lifted

its

so

profile

behind the projecting part of the outer one. The angle upper portion exactly meets the plane of the side of the upper inclosing shaft 4, and w^ould, therefore, not be seen, unless two vertical cuts were made to exhibit it, which form two dark lines the

p

r shall fall

of

its

whole w\ay up the

shaft.

Two

small pilasters are run, like fastening


THE LAMP OF TRUTH.

54

n,

shafts. The wll explain the

is

a base, or joint

on the front of

junction,

throiigli the

stitches,

sections l n taken respecti\'ely at the levels k, Fig. 7. hypothetical construction of the whole.

<:he

form occur again and again, on the

lather, (for passages of this

piers of the shafts of flamboyant work,) of one of the smallest pedestals which supported the lost statues of the porch ; its section below would be the same as n, and its construction, after what has

been said of the other base, will be at once perceived. XXVIII. There was, however, in this kind of involution,

much to

be admired as well as repi-ehended, the proportions of quantities were always as beautiful as they w^ere intricate ; and, though the

were harsh, they were exquisitely opposed to

lines of intersection

But the fancy did

the flower-work of the interposing mouldings.

not stop here

rose from the bases into the arches

it

;

room enouQjh

findino-

exhibition,

for its

from the heads even of cylindrical

we

while

regTet,

authority and custom of

some it,

there, not

(we cannot but admhe,

men who

could

defy the

the nations of the earth for a space of

all

three thousand years,) in order that the arch mouldings

appear to emerge from the in

shafts,

boldness of the

the

and

;

withdrew the capitals

it

and not

to terminate

pillar, as at its

might

base they had been lost

on the abacus of the

capital

;

then they

ran the moulding-s across and through each other, at the point of the arch

and

;

hither

and

not finding their natural directions enough to

finally,

many

furnish as

thither,

and cut

off their

from the apse of

moulding whose section through the point/,)

is

is

ends short,

Fig. 2. Plate IV.,

pass'jd the point of intersection.

buttress

them when they had

occasions of intersection as they wished, bent

Gervais at

St.

is

part of a fl}^ng

Falaise, in

rudely giv^en above at

carried thrice through

/,

itself,

which the

(taken vertically in the cross-bar

and the flat fillet is cut off sharp at the end of the Fig. 3. is half of cross-bar, for the mere pleasure of the truncation. the head of a door in the Stadthaus of Sui*see, in which the shaded and two arches

;

part of the section of the joint

which

is

the ends being cut off is,

g

g^

is

that of the arch-moulding,

three times reduphcated, and six times intersected

when they become unmanageable.

indeed, earher exaggerated in Switzerland

by

itself,

This style

and Germany, o^^dng

to

the imitation in stone of the dovetaihng of Avood, particularly of the intersecting of

beams

at the angles of chalets

;

but

it

only fiu-nishes

the more plain Instance of the danger of the fallacious system which,


THE LAMP OF TRUTH. from the beginnin:^, repressed

tl»e

55

German, and,

in the end, ruined

would be too ^^aintul a task to follow further the caricatures of form, and eccentricities of treatment, which hycw the French, Gothic.

It

out of this single abuse hfeless

—the

flattened arch, the shrunken pillar,

tJie

ornament, the liny moulding, the distorted and extravag.iut

fohation, until the time

deprived of

all

came when, over

these wrecks and remnaiits,

unity and principle, rose the foul torrent of

and swept them

llie

So fell the great dynasty of mediaeval architecture. It was because it had lost its own streno-tli, and disobeyed its own laws because its order, and consistency, and organisation, had been broken tlxi'ough that it could oj^pose no renaissance,

all

away.

resistance

rush of

the

to

observe, all because

surrender of

its

and

supremacy. because

it

had

sacrificed

it

was

d'jcrepitude, It

not,

;

was not because

its

would have stood

enervated sensuality of the

which

honor of

it

sank,

God

g'iN'ing

—but

its

3

up

own

its

fear

it

it

;

mii^ht have survived,

forth in stern comparison ^\^th the

renaissance

its

of

was not Romanist, or dreaded by the

it

;

renewed and purified honor, and with a new into

pillars

time was come

was scorned by the classical That scorn and that it

tliis,

that on

multitudinous forms of

arose the

which rotted away the

faithful Protestant.

and hved

And

From

a single truth.

from that one endeavor to assume the

integrity,

semblance of what disease

it

overwhelminof innovation.

glory, as

it

would have risen in from the ashes

soul,

had received

truth was gone, and

There was no \^'isdom nor strengih

left

m

it,

to

it

it,

sank

raise

it

for the for ever.

from the

and the error of zeal, and the softness of luxury smote it dov<n and dissolved it away. It is good for us to remember tlrls, a.s we tread upon the bare ground of its foundations, and stumble over its scattered stones. Those rent skeletons of pierced wall, through which our sea-winds moan and mm^mur, strewing them joint by joint, and bone by bone, along the bleak promontories on which the Pharos lights came once from houses of prayer those grey arches and quiet aisles under w^hich the sheep of our valleys feed and rest on the turf that has buried their altars those shapeless heaps, that are not of the Earth, which hft our fields into strange and sudden banks of flowers, and stay our mountain streams with stones dust

;

that are not their own, have other thoughts

those of forsooli

mourning them.

It

for

to

ask from us than

the rage that despoiled, or the fear that

was not the robber, not the

fanatic,

not the


TUE LAMP OF TRUTH.

56 blasphemer,

who

sealed

tlie

destruction that they

had wi'ought

;

the

war, the wi-ath, the terror, mi^'ht have worked their worst, and the

strong walls would have risen, and the slight pillars would have started again, from under the

hand of the

not rise out of the ruins of their

own

destroyer.

violated truth.

But they could


CHAPTER

III

THE LAMP OF POWER.

we have

^N recalling the impressions

I.

received from

ilie

worka

of man, after a lapse of time long enougli to involve in obscurity

but the most

^â&#x20AC;˘i^^d,

it

often happens that

we

all

find a strange pi-e-

many upon whose strength we had little and that points of character which had escaped the detection of the judgment, become developed under the waste of memory as veins of harder rock, whose places could not at first have been discovered by the eye, are left sahent under the action of eminence and durabihty in calculated,

;

frosts

and streams.

The

traveller

of his judgment, necessitated

by

who

desu-es to coiTect the erroi-s

inequalities of temper, infelicities of

circumstance, and accidents of association, has no other resource than

calm verdict of interposing years and to watch for of eminence and shape in the images which as in the ebbing of a mountain lake, in his memory

to wait for the

the

;

new arrangements

remain

latest

;

he would watch the varying outhne of in the

form of

which had recesses of

its

cleft, its

its

successive shore,

and

trace,

departing waters, the true direction of the forces

or the currents

which had excavated, the deepest

primal bed.

In thus revertino- to the memories of those works of architecture

by which we have been most pleasurably impressed, it will generally happen that they fall into two broad classes the one characterized by an exceeding preciousness and dehcacy, to which we recur with a :

and the other by a severe, and, in which we remember with an undiminished awe, like that felt at the presence and operation of some great Spiritual Power. From about these two groups, more

sense of affectionate admiration

many

cases

mysterious,

or less harmonised

marked by in

;

majesty,

by intermediate examples, but always

distincti\'ely

features of beauty or of power, there wall be swept away,

multitudes,

the memories of buildings, perhaps, in their

first

address to om* minds, of no inferior pretension, but owing theii

3*


THE LAMP OF POWER.

58

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

to value o' im} ressiveiiGss to cliaracters of less enduring nobility material, accumulation of ornament, or ingenuity of mechanioa

Especial interest may, indeed, have been

construction.

memory may have

such circumstances, and the

effects of the structure

rendered tenacious of particular parts or it

Mill recall

tion

;

even these only by an active

awakened by

been, consequently,

effort,

;

but

and then without emo-

while in passive moments, and with thrilling influence, the images

more spiritual power, will return in a fair and and while the pride of many a stately palace, and the wealth of many a jewelled shrine, perish from our thoughts in a dust of gold, there will rise, through their dimness, the white image of piu-er beauty, and of

solemn company

of

;

some secluded marble

late-fallen

snow

under

river or forest side, W'ith the

its

arches, as

if

under vaults of

some shadoAvy wall whose mountain foundations, and yet numberless.

or the vast w^eariness of

;

separate stones are like

n. Now, the

by

chapel,

fretted flower-work shrinldng

difference

between these two orders of building

not merely that wliich there

is

in nature

is

between things beautiful

and sublime. It is, also, the difference between w4iat is derivative and original in man's work for whatever is in architecture fan- or and what is not so derived, beautiful, is imitated from natural forms but depends for its dignity upon arrangement and government received from human mind, becomes the expression of the power of that mind, and receives a sublimity high in proportion to the power expressed. All building, therefore, shows man either as gathering or governmg; and the secrets of his success are his knowing what These are the two great intellectual to gather, and how to rule. Lamps of Architecture the one consisting in a just and luimble \ieneration for the works of God upon the earth, and the other in an understandino- of the dominion over those works which has been vested in man. ;

;

;

III.

Besides this expression of living authority and power, there

however, a sympathy in the

of nolile building, with what is and it is the o-overnino- Power directed by this sympathy., whose operation I sliall at present endeavor to trace, abandoning all inquiry into the more abstract is,

most sublime

fields

in

of invention

j)roportion

be rightly

ympathy,

forrii".

natural things

:

for

this

:

latter

faculty,

and arrangement connected with examined in a general \iew of ir

architecture,

with

the

vast

and the questions of its

all

discussion, can only

the arts

;

but

controlhng powers

its

of


; ;•

THE LAMP OF POWER.

5|

and may slortly be considered and tliat it has, of late, been httle felt o. regarded by arcliitects. I have seen, in recent efforts, much contest between two schools, one affecting onginality, and the other legality Nature

herself, is special,

;

with the more advantage, that

—many attempts of construction

power

abstract this

at beauty of desigii

but

;

I

—many ingenious

never any appearance of a consciousness that, in

;

primal art of man, there

is

room

with the mightiest, as well as the

for the

fairest,

marking of

works of

those works themselves have been permitted, receive an

his, to

efforts of

adaptations

have never seen any aim at the expression of

human

added glory

thought.

ii"om their

by

his relations

God

Man

there should be spirit

which

and arches the vault of the avenue the leaf^ and pohsh to the shell, and grace

Pinal's of the forest,

which gives veining to everv pulse that

into

animal oro-anisation,

ao-itates

which reproves the precipices

and that

association with earnest

In the edifices of

found reverent worship and following, not only of the rounds the

;

Master and

their

pillars of the earth,

—but

to

of that also

and builds up her baiTen lifts her shadowy

the coldness of the clouds, and

cones of mountain purple into the pale arch of the sky

;

for these,

more than these, refuse not to connect themselves, in his thoughts, with the work of his own hand the gTcy cliff loses not its nobleness when it reminds us of some Cyclopean waste of

and other

gloiies

;

mural stone selves,

;

the f)innacles of the rocky promontory arrange themfortress towers and mountain has a melancholy mixed whicli is cast from the images of

undegTaded, into fantastic semblances of

even the awful cone of the with that of

its

own

;

far-off

solitude,

nameless tumuli on white sea-shores, and of the heaps of reedy clay, into wliich

chambered

cities

melt in their mortahtv.

IV. Let us, then, see what

is

this

power and majesty, which

Nature herself does not disdain to accept from the works of

man

and what that subhmity in the masses built up by his coralhne-like energy, which is honorable, even when transferred by association to the dateless hills, which it needed earthquakes to hft, and deluges to mould.

And,

first,

of

mere

size

:

It

might not be thought

emulate the sublimity of natural objects in

this respect

possible ;

to

nor would

It be, if the architect contended with them in pitched battle. would not be well to build pyramids in the valley of Chamouni and St. Peter's, among its many -other errors, counts for not the it


THE LAMP OF POWER.

60

on

least injurious its position

But imagine

slope of an inconsiderable Lili

tlie

placed on the plain of Marengo,

it

La

of Turin, or like

Salute at Venice

The

!

the Superga

or, like

fact

is,

that the appre-

hension of the size of natural objects, as well as of architecture, '

depends more on fortunate excitement of the imagination than on and the architect has a peculiar advantage

measurements by the eye

;

upon the sight, such magnitude as he can There are few rocks, even among the Alps, that have a and if we secure clear vertical fall as high as the choir of Beauvais a good precipice of wall, or a sheer and unbroken flank of tower, and in being able to press close

command.

;

place

may

there are no enormous natural features to ojipcJse

them where

them, we shall

in

feel

them no want of subhmity

be matter of encouragement in

regret, to observe

this respect,

And

of size.

though one

it

also of

how much oftener man destroys natural sublimity, human power. It does not need much to

than nature crushes

A

humihate a mountain. u])

of provocation against walls

form a

destroy

all

hut

sometimes do

will

it

Balme from Chamouni, without a

to the Col de

hospitable

its

little

on

visibly four-square spot

idea of

its

elevation.

A

cabin,

tlie

I never look

;

Anolent feehng

whose bright white

green ridge, and entirely

single

\'illa

whole landscape, and dethrone a dynasty of

mar a

will often

and the acropohs beheve, been dwarfed into a hills,

of Athens, Parthenon and all, has, I model by the palace lately built beneath it. The fact is, that hills are not so high as we fancy them, and, when to the actual impression of

no mean comparative ari-angement of

its

upon at

it

mean

is

a certain degree of nobleness

;

and

if

manly liand

of

not to be supposed that mere size will

it is

design, yet eveiy increase of

whether the building

first,

sublime

toil

reached, which nothing but gross error in

parts can destroy.

V. While, therefore, ennoble a

added the sense of the

size, is

and thought, a sublimity

the

latter,

is

to be

:

magnitude

so that

markedly

it is

will

bestow

well to determine

beautifu'., or

markedly

not to be withheld by respect to smaller

paits from reaching largeness of scale

;

provided only, that

it

be

evidently in the architect's power to reach at least that degree of

magnitude which

is

the lowest at which sublimity beg-ins, rudely

definable as that which will

beside

it.

we would

make a

It is the misfortune of

have an must go in

fain

of the funds

linno- fio-ure look less than

most of our modern

universal excellence in

them

fife

buildino-s that ;

and so part

painting, part in gilding, part" in fitting up,


THE LAMP OF POWER.

Ql

part in painted windows, part in small steeples, part in ornan-.enta here and there ; and neither the windows, nor the steeple, nor the

ornaments, are worth their materials.

Fur there

is

a crnst al)out

the impressible part of men's minds, which

must be pierced throu'^-h before they can be touched to the quick and though we may piick at it and scratch it in a thousand separate places, we might as well have let it alone if we do not come through somewhere with a deep thrust and if we can give such a thrust anywhere, there is no ne-d ;

:

of another

;

need not be even so " wide as a church door," so that And mere weight will do this it is a clumpy way but an effectual one, too and the apathy which cannot it

be enough.

it

of doing

it,

;

;

be pierced through by a small steeple, nor shone through by a small window, can be broken through in a moment by the mere wei<4it of a gTeat

who has

Let, therefore, the architect

Avail.

resources, choose his point of attack

first,

and,

if

not lar^e

he choose

size,

him abandon decoration for,- unless they are concentrated, and numerous enough to make their concentration conspicuous, all his ornaments together would not be worth one huge stone. And the choice must be a decided one, without compromise. It must be no question wdiether his capitals would not look better with a little carving let him leave them huge as blocks or whether his arches should not have richer architraves let him throw them a foot higher, if he can a yard more across the nave will be worth more to him than a tesselated pavement and another fathom of outer wall, than an army of pinnacles. The limitation of size must be let

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

;

only in the uses of the building, or in the ground at his disposal. VI. That limitation, however, being by such circumstances deter-

mined, by what means,

it is

tude be best displayed

;

to

since

be next asked, it

is

may the

actual mao-ni-

seldom, perhaps never, that a

building of any pretension to size looks so large as

it

is.

The

appearance of a figure in any distant, more especially in any upper, parts of

it

will

almost always prove that

we have under-estimated

the magnitude of those parts. It

has often been observed that a buildino-

magnitude, must be seen

all at

once.

It

in order to

show

its

would, perhaps, be better

to say, must be bounded as much as possible by continuous lines, and that its extreme points should be seen all at once or we may state, in bim}>ler terms still, that it must have one visible bounding line from top to bottom, and from end to end. This bounding linÂŤ ;


THE LAMP OP POWER.

g2 from top to bottom

may

therefore, pyramidical

and tlie mass, and the mass form one grand

either be inclined inwaids,

or vertical,

;

or inclined outwards, as in the

cliff;

advancing fronts of old houses^

and, in a sort, in the Greek temple, and in

Now,

cornices or heads.

all

buildings with hea\7

the cornice project, or the upper portion of the

violently

broken

ppamid

recede, too violently, majesty will be lost

if

;

building cannot be seen cornice

no part of

it

at once,

all

;

not because the

a heavy

for in the case of

necessarily concealed

is

tinuity of its terminal line therefore,

bounding hne be

in all these cases, if the

—but because the con-

broken, and the length of that

is

But the

cannot be estimated.

error

is,

of course,

line.,

more

when much of the building is also concealed as in the wellknown case of the recession of the dome of St. Peter's, and, from the greater number of points of ^^ew, in churches whose highcbt porThus there is tions, whether dome or tower, are over their cross. fatal

;

only one point from which the size of the Cathedral of Florence felt

;

and that

from the corner of the Via

is

the south-east angle, where instantly above the apse

tower

it

and

happens that the dome In

transepts.

all

is

seen rising

cases in

which the

over the cross, the grandeur and height of the tower

is

are lost, because there

is

but one

line

down which

and that

easily discerned.

Hence, while, in symmetry and

may

signs

feeling,

such de-

where the height of the must be at the west end, or,

often have pre-eminence, yet,

Lower

itself is to

Detter

still,

be made apparent,

it

Imagine the

detached as a campanile.

bard churches

their campaniles

if

height over their crosses

de Beurre were spire

itself

the eye can trace

in the inner angle of the cross, not

the whole height,

is

is

de' Balestrieri, opposite

made

;

loss to the

Lom-

were carried only to their present

or to the Cathedral of Rouen,

central, in the place

of

its

if

the Tour

present debased

!

VIL Whether,

therefore,

we have

do with tower or and I

to

must be one bounding hne from base

to coping

;

wall, there

am much

inclined, myself, to love the true vertical, or the vertical,

with a

solemn frown of projection (not a scowl), as in the Palazzo Vecchio of Florence.

This character

is

always given to rocks by the poets

;

with shght foundation indeed, real rocks being httle given to over-

—but with

hanging

conveyed by

And,

this

excellent

form

in buildings,

is

this

judgment

or the sensg of threatening

a nobler character than that of mere

size.

threatening should be somew^hat carrii'4


THE LAMP OF POWER.

down

A mere projecting

into their mass.

whole wall must, Jupiter

like,

nod

63

shelf

as well

as

is

not enoiigli, the

frown.

Ilence, I

think the propped machicolations of the Palazzo Vecchio and Duomo of Florence far grander headings than any form of Greek cornice, Sometimes the projection may be thrown lower, as in the doge's palace of Venice, where the chief appearance of

second arcade

or

;

may become

it

it

above the

is

a grand swell from the ground,

as the head of a ship of the line rises from the sea. This is very nobly attained by the projection of the niches in the third story of the Tour de Beurre at Rouen.

What

VIII.

needful in the settino- forth of mao-nitudeinhei'dit,

is

marking

also in the

riglit

is

together.

it

in area

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

let it

gathered well

be

especially to be noted with respect to the Palazzo

It is

Vecchio and other mighty buildings of

its

order,

how mistakenly

it

has been stated that dimension, in order to become impressive, should be expanded either in height or length, but not equally :

whereas, rather

it

will

be found that those buikhno-s seem on the

whole the vastest which have been gathered up into a mighty square, and which look as if they had been measured by the angel's rod, " the length,

and the breadth, and the height of it are equal," and herein something is to be taken notice of, which I beheve not to be

sufficientlv, if at all,

Of the many broad

considered amonij our architects. divisions

considered, none appear to

ings whose interest

is

as nothing

;

the entire interest

they bear

;

in

is

is

be

and those whose

interest

is

In the Greek temple the wall

is

in the detached

French Flamboyant, and

pendicular, the object

may

significant than that into build-

in their walls,

in the lines di\iding their walls.

frieze

nnder which architecture

me more

columns and the

in our detestable Per-

to get rid of the wall surface,

and keep the

Romanesque work and Egyptian, the wall is a confessed and honored member, and the light is often allowed to fall on large areas of it, variously decorated. Now, both these principles are admitted by Nature, the one in her woods eye altogether on tracery of hue

and

in

thickets, the other in her plains,

latter is

beauty

maze

and

cliffs,

and waters

;

but the

pre-eminently the princi|)le of power, and, in some sense, of also.

For, whatever infinity of

of the forest, there

quiet lake; for

;

which

I

is

a

fair

form there

fairer, as I think, in

may

be in the

the surface of the

and I hardly know that association of shaft or tracery, would exchange the warm sleep of sunshine on somo


THE LAMP OF POWER.

04

smooth, broad, human-like front of raarbie.

Nevertheless,

if

breadtl*

and substance must in some sort be beautiful northern the of resting exclusive the condemn hastily we must not the architects in divided lines, until at least we have remembered

is

to be beautiful,

its

;

between a blank surface of Caen stone, and one mixed fiom Genoa and Carrara, of serpentine with snow but as regards without breadth abstract power and awfulness, there is no question

difference

:

;

and it matters httle, so that the and unbroken, whether it be of biick or of the hght of heaven upon it, and the w^eight of earth in it, jiisper for it is singular how forgetful the mind may beare all we need come both of material and workmanship, if only it have space of surfiice

it is

in vain to seek them,

surface be wide, bold, ;

:

enough over which to range, and to remind the joy that plains

it

however

it,

feebly, of

has in contemplating the flatness and sweep of great

and broad

seas.

And

it

is

a noble thing for

men

to

do

this

with their cut stone or moulded clay, and to make the face of a wall or even look infinite, and its edge against the sky like an horizon :

if less

than

this

be reached,

it is still

storm

artifices

will set their

or dechning of the

;

down

the play of

how many

its broad surface, and to see by and gradations of tinting and shadow, time and wild signatures upon it and how in the i-ising day the unbroken twilight rests long and luridly

passing light on

^_J^-ehead, and fades away untraceably

mark

delightful to

on

its tiers

its

high

lineless

of confused

and

countless stone.

IX. This, then, being, as I think, one of the peculiar elements of

subhme architecture, it may be easily seen how necessarily consequent upon the love of it will be the choice of a form approaching to the square for the main outhne. For, in whatever direction the building tion the eye will be di'awn to

surface

^\\\\

only be at

its

its

fullest

every direction, as far as possible. pre-eminently the areas of power straioht or curved lines

;

and

is

contracted, in that direc-

terminal lines

when

;

and the sense of

those lines are removed, in

Thus the square and circle are those bounded by purely

among

these, with their relative solids, the

cube and sphere, and relative solids of progression (as in the investigation of the laws of proportion I shall

call

those masses which are

generated by the progression of an area of given form along a line in a given direction), the square

and

elements of utmost power in

arcliitectuj-al

all

cylindrical column, are the

arrangements.

On


THE LAMP OF TOWER.

6a

the otlier hand, grace and perfect proportion require an elongation

and a sense of power may be communicated direction form of magnitude by a continuous series of any marked while yet we features, such as the eye may be unable to number in

some one

:

to this

;

from

feel,

their

and simpHcity, that embarrassed us, not any

their boldness, decision,

mukitude which

lias

it

is

indeed

confiusion or

This expedient of continued series forms the

indistinctness of form.

sublimity of arcades and

aisles,

of all ranges of columns, and,

on a

smaller scale, of those Greek mouldings, of which, repeated as they

now it

are in all the

meanest and most fomiliar forms of our

Now,

impossible altogether to weary.

is

architect has choice of

with

its

area, to

two

tyj^es of form,

it

is

evident

furniture, tliat

the

each properly associated

own kind of interest or decoration the square, or greatest be chosen especiaUy when the surface is to be the subject :

of thought

;

and the elongated

area,

when

the divisions of the sur-

Both these orders of form, as I think nearly every other source of power and beauty, are marvellously united in that building which I fear to weary the reader by bringing forward too frequently, as a model of all perfection

face are to be the subjects of thought.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

the Doge's palace at Venice

square

;

its

:

general arrangement, a hollow

its

principal facade, an oblong, elongated to the eye

by a

range of thirty-four small arches, and thirty-five columns, while it is separated by a richly canopied Avindow in the centre, into two massive dixisions, whose height and length are nearly as four to the arcades which give it length being confined to the lower fi\e ;

and the upper, between its broad A\andows, left a mighty of smooth marble, chequered with blocks of alternate roseIt would be impossible, I believe, to invent a color and white. more magnificent arrangement of all that is in building most dignified and most feir. X. In the Lombard Romanesque, the two principles are mere

stories,

sui-ftice

fused into each other, as most characteristically in the cathedral cf Pisa : length of proportion, exhibited by an arcade of twenty- one arches

above, and fifteen below, at the side of the nave

square

proportion

in the front

;

placed one above the other, the lowest with

seven arches, the four

uppermost

;

its

pillars

thrown out

receding wall, and casting deep shadows

ment, of nineteen arches

;

bold

that front didded into arcades,

;

the

engaged, of

boldly from the

fii-st,

the second of twenty-one

above the base;

the

thhd and


;

THE LAMP OF POWER.

66

all circular heade^ and the lowest with square panellings, set diagonally under their semicircles, an universal ornament in tliis the apse a semicircle, with a semidome style (Plate XII. fig. 7.) for its roof, and three rano-es of circular arches for its exterior ornament in the interior of the nave, a range of circular arches below a circular-arched triforium, and a vast flat surface, observe, of wall the whole arrangement (not decorated ^\'ith striped marble above

of eight each

foui'tli

aU with

;

sixty-three arches in all

;

cylindrical shafts,

;

;

;

a pecuHar one, but characteristic of every church of the period and, to

my

most majestic

feeling, the

the mightiest tj^Q of form which the

not perhaps the

mind

of

man

on associations of the

based exclusively

ceived)

;

but

fairest,

has ever con-

and the

circle

square. I

am

now, however, trenching upon ground which

reserve for

more careful examination,

questions

tic

my

:

I desire to

in connection with other sesthe-

but I beheve the examples I have given will justify

vindication of the square form from the reprobation

been lightly thrown upon

it

;

nor might this be done for

which has it

only as

a ruhng outline, but as occurring constantly in the best mosaics, and in

now

a thousand forms of minor decoration, which I cannot

examine

my

an and therefore to be chosen, either to rule in their outlines, or to adorn by masses of light and shade those portions of buildings in which surface is to be rendered precious or ;

exponent of

chief assertion of

s|)ace

and

its

majesty being always as

it is

surface,

honorable.

XI. Thus

for,

then, of general forms,

the scale of architecture

is

sider the manifestations of

and of the modes in which Let us next con-

best to be exhibited.

power

v.-hich

belong to

its

and

details

lesser divisions.

The cealed this

dixdsion

first

masonry. ;

we have

It is true that this

but I think

it

reason, that there

to regard,

is

the inevitable one of

dinsion may, by great

art,

be con-

umvise (as well as dishonest) to do so is

a very noble

character

;

for

always to be

obtained by the opposition of large stones to didded masonry, as by

and columns of one piece, or massy lintels and architraves, to work of bricks or smaller stones and there is a certain orofani-

shafts

wall

salion in the

;

management

of such parts, like that of the continuous

bones of the skeleton, opposed to the vertebrae, which to surrender.

I hold, therefore, that, for this

it is

and other

not well

reasons, the


TEE LAMP OF POWER.

Ci

and aUo tha!,, with certain and shrines of most finished workmanship), the smaller the biiikliiig, the more necc-ssary it is For if a buildiii:^ that its masonry should be bold, and vice verm. hi undiir the mark of average magnitude, it is not in our power to

masonry of a building

is

to be

shown

:

rare exceptions (as in the cases of chapels

increase

its

apparent

size

(too easily measm'eable)

tionate diminution in the scale of in oiu-

power

to give

it

its

masonry.

But

by any proporit

may

a certain nobility by building

stones, or, at all events, introducing such into its

it

make.

be often

massy Thus it is of

impossible that there should ever be majesty in a cottage built of brick

;

but there

is

a marked element of sublimity in the rude and

irregular piling of the rocky walls

of the

Wales, Cumberland, and Scotland.

Their

mountain cottages of size is not one whit

diminished, though fom' or five stones reach at their angles from

the ground to the eaves, or though a native rock happen to project conveniently,

and

to be built into the

framework of the

majestic

size,

it

matters, indeed, comparatively

little

masonry be large or small, but if it be altogether large, times diminish the magnitude for want of a measure ;

On

wall.

mark

of

whether

its

the other hand, after a building has once reached the

it ^^^ll

some-

altogether

if

suggest ideas of poverty in material, or deficiency in mechanical resource, besides interfering in many cases with the hues very unhappy of the design, and delicacy of the workmanship.

small,

it

will

A

instance of such interference exists in the facade of the church of St. Madeleine at Paris, where the columns, being built of very small

stones of nearly equal size with visible joints, look as

covered with a close

trellLs.

So, then, that

masonry

if

will

they wore

be gene-

the most nvagnificent which, without the use of materials systematically small or large, accommodates itself, naturally and

rally

and structure of its work, and disi)lays power of dealing with the vastest masses, and of accomphshing its pm-pose with the smallest, sometimes heaping rock upon rock with Titanic commandment, and anon binding the dusty remnants and edgy sphnters mto spring-ing vaults and swelling domes. And if the nobility of this confessed and natiu-al masonr}^ were more

frankly, to the conditions

ahke

its

commonly sui-^ices

felt,

and

we should

not lose the dignity of

it

by smoothing

The sums which we waste in chiselling which would have been better left as they came

fitting joints.

and polishing stones

from the quarry would often raise a building a story hig^r.

Ojily


THE LAMP OF POWER.

68 in this there

is

to be a certain respect for material also

build in marble, or in any limestone, the

manship

^^â&#x20AC;˘ill

make

its

known

absence seem slovenly;

it ^^^ll

be well to

make

the design

take advantage of the stone's softness, and to

and dependent upon smoothness of chiselled surfaces but it is a folly, in most cases, to cast

delicate

we away

wâ&#x201A;Ź

for if

:

ease of the work-

:

build in gTanite or lava,

if

labor necessary to

the

desio-n granitic itself,

and

smooth

it

;

it

is

wiser

to-

make

to leave the blocks rudely squared.

the I

do

not deny a certain splendor and sense of power in the smoothing of o-ranite, and in the entire subduino- of its iron resistance to the

But

human supremacy.

in

most

and and with rough

cases, I believe, the labor

time necessary to do this would be better spent in another that to raise a building to a height of a hundred feet blocks, is

is

better than to raise

to seventy ^^ith

it

smooth

way

There

ones.

also a mao-nificence in the natural cleavao;e of the stone to

the art must indeed be gTeat that pretends to be equivalent stern expression of brotherhood with the

;

;

which

and a

mountain heart from which

has been rent, ill-exchanged for a glistering obedience to the rule and measm-e of men. Ilis eye must be dehcate indeed, who would

it

desire to see the Pitti palace polished.

XII. Next to those of the masonry, divisions of the design itself

into masses of light

must

and shade, or

be, indeed, themselves

we have

Those dinsions are else

to consider the necessaiily, either

by traced hues

;

which

latter

produced by incisions or projections

which, in some hghts, cast a certain breadth of shade, but which

may, nevertheless, distant effect.

if

finely

enough

I call, for instance,

cut,

be always true

lines,

in

such panelhng as that of Henry

the Seventh's chapel, pure hnear division.

Now, surface

it

is

does not seem to

me

to an architect simply

sufficiently recollected, that a wall

what a white canvass

is

to a pjiinter,

with this only difference, that the wall has already a sublimity in height, substance,

its

and other characters already considered, on which

more dangerous to break than to touch with shade the canvass And, for my own part, I think a smooth, broad, freshly laid surface of gesso a fairer thing than most pictures I see painted on it much more, a noble surface of stone than most architectural features which it is caused to assume. But however this may be, the canvass and wall are supposed to be given, and it is om- craft to it is

surface.

;

divide them.


THE LAMP OF POWER.

And

tlie

on wLicli

principles

didsion

tliis

69

ma le,

|o be

is

are, as

regards relation of quantities, the same in architecture as in painting, or indeed, in

any other

art whatsoever, only the painter

Is

by

his

varied subject partly permitted, partly compelled, to dispense ^\^th the symmetry of architectural light and shade, and to adopt arrange-

ments apparently there arts;

is

much

free

and

difterence

So that

accidental.

but in rules of quantity, both are For the of means are alike.

;

commands

secure always the its

same depth

modes

of gi'ouping

follow the

moving shade),

and

liimself of

is

many

their

as

alike, so far forth

architect, not

being able to

or decision of shadow, nor to add to

sadness by color (because even

avail

in

(though no opposition) between the two

when

color

is

employed,

many

compelled to make

it

cannot

allowances,

which the painter needs

contrivances,

neither consider nor employ.

XIII. Of these hmitations the

first

consequence

is,

that positive

more necessary and more sublime thing in an architect's hands than in a painter's. For the latter being able to temper his hght with an under tone throughout, and to make it delightful with sweet color, or awful with lurid color, and to represent distance, and air, and sun, by the depth of it, and fill its whole space with expression, can deal wth an enormous, nay, almost with an universal but extent of it, and the best paintere most dehght in such extent full and become liable to always nearly as hght, with the architect, is untempered sunshine seen upon solid surfsice, his only rests, and his

shade

is

a

;

chief

means of

sublimity, are definite shades.

and weight, the Power the

and

;

So

that, after

be said

to

size

depend on

(whether measured in space or intenseness) of

quantity

shadow use and

may

of architecture

it

seems to me, that the

reality of its works,

influence they have in the daily

those works of art with which

we

of rest or of pleasure), require of

life

of

men

(as

its

and the

opposed to

have- nothing to do but in times it

that

it

should express a kind

is of human sympathy, by a measure of darkness as great as there and that as the great poem and great fiction generally in human life and cannot affect us most by the majesty of thek masses of shade, ;

take hold

upon us

if

they

affect

a continuance of lyric spriglitliness,

and sometimes melancholy, else they do wild world of ours so there nmst be, this not express the truth of some equivalent in this magnificently himian art of ai-chitocture, sorrow and its its for expression for the trouble and wTath of hfe,

but mast be serious

often,

;


;

THE LAMP OF TOWER.

^0 mystery

and

:

tliisjt

the frown upon

by Rembrandtism

one in painting

is ;

and the shadow of

And among

be Avhen the dawn hghts

will

the

first

habits that

that of thinking in shadow, not

is

hny

lookino- at a desii^n in its miserable it

that

had mighty masses, ^^gorous and deep, of

it

shadow mingled with its surface. a young architect should learn, as

So

recess.

its

a noble manner in architecture, tliough a Mse and I do not believe that ever any building was

unless

truly great,

can only give by deptli or diffusion of gloora,

its front,

it,

skeleton

;

but conceiving

and the dusk leaves

it

it

when

;

when the lizards a\^11 stones will be hot, and its crannies cool bask on the one, and the birds build in the other. Let him design with the sense of cold and heat upon him let him cut out the shadows, as men dig wells in unw\atered plains and lead along the ;

its

;

;

a founder does his hot metal;

hghts, as

let

him keep

the

full

command of both, and see that he knows how they fall, and w^here His paper hues and proportions are of no value all thev fade. thai he has to do must be done by spaces of light and darkness and his business is to see that the one is broad and bold enough not to be swallowed up by twihght, and the other deep enough not to :

be dried

like a shallow pool

And, that of shade

or

may

this

by a noon-day

be, the

hght, whatever

sun.

first

necessity

they

may

is

that the quantities

be, shall

be thrown into

masses, either of something like equal weight, or else large masses but masses of one or of the one reheved with small of the other ;

other kind there

must

be.

No

design that

is

divided at

all,

and

is

not divided into masses, can ever be of the smallest value this gi-eat law respecting breadth, precisely the same in architecture and :

painting,

is

on which

XIV.

I

its two principal most of the conditions of majestic design

so important, that the examination of

applications will include

would

at present insist.

Painters are in the habit of speaking loosely of masses of

and shade, meaning thereby any large spaces of either. " mass" it is convenient sometimes to restrict the term to the portions to which proper fonn belongs, and to call the field on which such forms are traced, interval. Thus, in fohage with projecting boughs or stems, we have masses of hght, with intervals

light

Nevertheless,

of shade

;

and, in light skies with dark clouds

upon them, masses

of shade, with intervals of light.

This distinction

is,

in architecture, still

more necessary

;

^r

there


THE LAMP OF POWER. two marked drawn wth

Yl

dependent upon it one. in which the forms upon darkness, as in Greek sculpture and pillars the other in which they are drawn with darkness upon light, as in early Gothic fohation. Now, it is not in the designer's power determinately to vary degTees and places of darkness, but it is altogether in his power to vary in determined directions his degrees of light. Hence the use of the dark mass characterises, generally, a trenchant style of design, in which the darks and lights are both flat, and terminated by sharp edges while the use of the light mass is in the same way associated with a softened and fii^l manner of design, in which the darks are much warmed by reflectec lights, and the lights are rounded and melt into them. The term applied by Milton to Doric bas-rehef " bossy," is, as is generally are

are

styles

:

light

;

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

the case with Milton's epithets, the most Qomprehensive and expressive of this manner, which the Eno-lish lano'uao-e contains

term which

specifically describes the chief

decoration, feuille,

foil

or leaf,

is

member

;

while the

of early Gothic

equally significative of a

flat

space

of shade.

XV.

We

modes in which these And, first, of the light, or rounded, mass. The modes in which relief was secured for the more projecting forms of bas-relief, by the Greeks, have been too v/eil described by Mr. Eastlake* to need recapitulation the conclusion which forces itself upon us from the facts he has remarked, being one on which I shall have occasion farther to insist presently, that the Greek workman cared for shadow only as a dark field wherefi-om his light figiu-e or design might be intelligibly detached liis attention was concentrated on the one aim at readableness, and clearness of accent and all composition, all harmony, nay, the very vitality and energy of separate gToups were, when necessary, shall shortly consider the actual

two kinds of mass have been

treated.

;

:

;

sacrificed to plain speaking.

Nor was

kind of form rather than another.

there any predilection for one

Rounded forms

were, in the

columns and principal decorative members, adopted, not

^wn

sake, but as characteristic

of the

for their

things represented.

They

were beautifully rounded, because the Greek habitually did well what he had to do, not because he loved roundness more than 8<|uareness

;

severely rectilinear forms were

* Literature of the Fine Aits.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Essay on

associated

Bas-relief.

with the


THE LAMP OF POWER.

72

and

curvt'd ones in the cornice

and

was di\^ded by a

which, in distant

fluting,

triglypli,

tlie

mass of the

pillai

destroyed

much

etfect,

What power of hght these primal arrangements breadth. was diminished in successive refinements and additions ol ornament and continued to diminish through Roman work, until of

its

left,

;

the confirmation of the circular arch as a decorative feature. lovely

and simple

of solid form

;

line

the

taught the eye to ask

dome

followed,

and

masses were thenceforward mana2:ed

sympathy

among

for a similar

necessarily the decorative

reference

with,

the chief feature of the building.

with,

Its

boundary

to, and m Hence arose,

the Byzantine architects, a system of ornament, entirely

restrained within the superficies of curvihnear masses, on which the li"ht

fell Avitli

as

unbroken o;radation as on a dome or column, while

the illumined surface was pevertheless cut into details of singular

and most ingenious for

the

less

intricacy.

dexterity of the

Something

workmen

;

it

is,

of course, to be allowed

being easier to cut

down

into a solid block, than to arrange the projecting portions of leaf

the Greek capital the Byzantines

:

^\'ith

skill

enough

to

show that

their preference of

the massive form was by no means compulsory, nor can I think unwise.

On

on

such leafy capitals are nevertheless executed by

it

the contrary, while the arrangements of line are far

Greek capital, the Byzantine hght and shade are more grand and masculine, based on that quality of pure gradation, which nearly all natural objects possess, and the attainment of which is, in fact, the first and most palj^able purpose The rolling heap of the in natural arrangements of grand form. thunder-cloud, divided by rents, and multi23hed by wreaths, yet gathering them all into its broad, torrid, and towering zone, and its

more

artful in the

as incontestably

midnight darkness opposite

;

the scarcely less majestic heave of the

and traversed by depth of

mountain

side, all torn

of rock,

yet never losing the unity of

defile

illumined

its

and ridge and

swell

and the head of every mighty tree, rich with and bough, yet terminated against the sky by a true line, and rounded by a green horizon, which, multiphed in the all these mark, for a distant forest, makes it look bossy from above great and honored law, that diffusion of light for which the Byzantine ornaments were designed and show us that those builders had truer sympathy with what God made majestic, than the self-contemplating and self-contented Greek. I know that they are barbaric in

shadowy

decline

;

tj'acery of leaf

;

;


;

THE LAMP OF POWER. comparison

but

;

tliere

is

a power in

tlieir

73 barbarism of sterner

a power not sophistic nor penetrative, but embracing and mysterious a power faithful more than thoughtful, which conceived tone,

;

and

felt

more than

nor ruled

it

created

;

a power that neither comprehended

but worked and wandered as

itself,

streams and winds

;

and which could not

it listed,

hke mountain

rest in the expression or

It could not bury itself in acanthus leaves. imagery was taken from the shadows of the storms and hills, and

seizure of finite form. Its

had fellowship with the night and day of the earth itself. XVI. I have endeavored to give some idea of one of the hollow balls of stone which, surrounded by floAving leafage, occur in varied succession on the architrave of the central gate of St. Mark's at Venice, in Plate

I. fig. 2.

It

seems to

me

singularly beautiful in

unity of lightness, aud delicacy of detail, with breadth of light.

its

It

had been sensitive, and had risen and shut themselves into a bud at some sudden touch, and would jDresently The cornices of San Michele of fall back again into their wild flow. Lucca, seen above and below the arch, in Plate VL, show the effect of heavy leafao'e and thick stems arrano-ed on a surface whose curve It is a simple quadrant, the light d}dng from off them as it turns. would be difficult, as I think, to invent anything more noble and I insist on the broad character of their arrangement the more earnestly, because, afterwards modified by greater skill in its management, it became characteristic of the richest pieces of Gothic design. The looks as

if

leaves

its

;

of the noblest period of the Venetian

capital, gi\'en in

Plate V.,

Gothic; and

interesting to see the play of leafage so luxuriant,

it is

is

absolutely subordinated to the breadth of two masses of light and

shade.

What

is

done by the Venetian

irresistible as that of

architect,

with a power as

the waves of his surrounding sea,

is

done by

the masters of the Cis-Alpine Gothic, more timicUy, and with a

manner somewhat cramped and cold, but not less expressing their The ice spiculae of the North, and its assent to the same gTcat law. broken sunshine, seem to have image in, and influence on the work and the leaves which, under the Itahan's hand, roll, and flow, and bow down over their black shadows, as in the weariness of noon-day heat, are, in the North, crisped and frost-bitten, wrmkled on the But the rounding of the edges, and sparkhng as if with dew. In the lower part of Plate ruling form is not less sought and felt. I. is

the

finial

of the pediment given in Plate IL, frcm the cathedral

4


THE LAMP OF POWER.

14.

It is exactly similar in feeling to the

of St. Lo.

being rounded under

Byzantine

abacus by four brandies of

tlie

whose stems, springing from the

angles,

capitalj

thistle leaves,

bend outwards and

fall

back to the head, throA\ing their jaggy spines down upon the full I could not get near enough light, forming two sharp quatrefoils. to this iinial to see

cut

;

with what clegTee of dehcacy the spines were

but I have sketched a natural grouj) of thistle-leaves beside

may compare

that the reader

The small

they are subjected to the broad form of the whole. capital is

from Coutances, Plate XIII.

fig. 4.,

which

of simpler elements, and exhibits the principle

but the

St.

Lo

finial

is

still

renewing

fully

clearly;

developed flamboyant, the

itself

main

the

lost in

design,

and sometimes

it

capriciously

throughout, as in the cylindrical niches and pedestals

which enrich the porches of Caudebec and Rouen. projecting

Fig.

1.

Plate

I.

Rouen in the more elaborate there are divided by buttresses into eight rounded

the simplest of those of

four

more

of breadth beino; retained in minor ornaments lono- after

had been

is

of earlier date,

only one of a thousand instances which

is

might be gathered even from the feelino;

it,

the types, and see with what mastery

sides,

compartments of tracery

same

;

even the whole bulk of the outer pier

;

is

and though composed partly of concave recesses, partly of square shafts, partly of statues and tabernacle w^ork, arranges itself as a whole into one richly rounded treated with the

feeling

;

tower.

XVII.

I cannot here enter into the curious

questions connected

with the management of larger curved surfaces

;

into the causes of

the difference in proportion necessary to be observed between round

and square towers

;

nor into the reasons

be richly ornamented,

why

a column or ball

may

would be inexpedient on masses like the Castle of St. Angelo, the tomb of Ceciha Metella, or the dome of St. Peter's. But what has been above said of the w^hile siu-face decorations

still more forcibly remembered that we are, and power may be carried

desirableness of serenity in plane surfaces, applies to those

which are curved

;

and

it is

to be

at present, considering how^ this serenity

minor divisions, not how the ornamental character of the lower form may, upon occasion, be permitted to fi-et the calmness of the higher. Nor, though the instances we have examined are of globular or cylindrical masses chiefly, is it to be thought that into

breadth can only be secured by such alone

:

many

of the noblest


THE LAMP OF POWER.

75

forms are of subdued curvature, sometimes hardly visible but curvature of some, degree there must be, in order to secure any measure of gTandeur in a small mass of light. One of the ;

most marked point of

distinctions

skill, will

between one

and another,

artist

in tha

be found in their relative delicacy of perception

of rounded surface

;

the

power of expressing the

full

perspective,

foreshortening and various undulation of such surface is, perhaps, the last and most difficult attainment of the hand and eye. For instance

:

there

is,

perhaps, no tree which has baffled the landscape

painter m.ore than the

common

&.

black spruce

It is rare that avb

any representation of it other than caricature. It is conceived as if it gTew in one plane, or as a section of a tree, with a set of boughs symmetrically dependent on opposite sides. It is thought see

formal, unmanageable, dra^Ti.

and ugly. It would be so, if it grew as it is But the Power of the tree is not in that chandeher-like

section.

It

holds out on

in

is

the dark,

sohd tables of

flat,

strong arms, curved slightly over

its

leafage,

which

them hke

it

shields,

and spreading towards the extremity

like a hand. It is vain to endeavor to paint the sharp, grassy, intricate leafage, until this ruhng form has been secured and in the boughs that approach the ;

spectator, the foreshortening of

like

it is

foreshortened

exti-emities,

of the INIagdalene

absolute

to

dehcacy in the rendering of them

hand

hke that of a wide

over ridge in successive distances

I'idge just rising

like

upon the vase

;

bluntness,

name

who

the artist

inferior

it is

has thoroughly

A noble

the

for

ÂŤ.

;

Get

but I cannot

So, in all dra-wing

felt it.

and

the power of rounding, softly and perfectly, every

mass which preserves the

surface

fingei*

require

in Mr. Rogers's Titian.

serenity, as

follows the truth, of

it

Nature, and which demands the highest knowledge and

workman. single leaf, and

country,

that of the draA\ing of the

but the back of that fohage, and you have the tree sculpture,

hill

and the

design

was the

it

sha:*^

edo'es

may

sacrifice of this

and

skill

from

always be told by the back of a breath and refinement of

extravao-ant

undercuttino-

which

destroyed the Gothiv.

mouldings, as the substitution of the line for

the

tnt,

we

light shall

destroyed better

Oothic tracery.

comprehena

after

This change, however,

we lave glanced

conditions of arrangement of the second kind of mass

and of shadow only. XVIII. We have noted above how the wall

at the chief ;

that which

is flat,

surface,

composed of


THE LAMP OF POWER.

76

and covered with cosl 7 work, Ik modes wliicli we examine in the next Chapter, became ?â&#x20AC;˘ subject of peculiar Its broad flat lights cou' i only interest to the Christian architects. ricli

materials,

shall

be made valuable by points or masses of energetic shadow, which were obtained by the Romanesque architect by means of ranges of recessed arcade, in the management of which, however, though all the effect depends

upon the shadow

so obtained, the eye

is

still,

as

upon the projecting columns, But with the enlargement of capitals, and wall, as in Plate VI. tlie window, which, in the Lombard and Romanesque churches, is usually little more than an arched slit, came the conception of the simpler mode of decoration, by penetrations which, seen from in classical architecture, caused to dwell

within, are forms of light, and,

from

^vithout, are

forms of shade.

In

upon the dark forms of the penetrations, and the whole proportion and power of the design The intermediate spaces are, are caused to depend upon them. indeed, in the most perfect earlj^ examples, filled with elaborate ornament but this ornament was so subdued as never to disturb and in many instances the simplicity and force of the dark masses The composition of the whole depends on the is entirely wanting. and it is impossible that proportioning and shaping of the darks any thing can be more exquisite than their placing in the head window of the Giotto campanile, Plate IX., or the church of Or San Michele. So entirely does the effect depend upon them, that it is quite useless to draw Italian tracery in outline if with any intention of rendering its effect, it is better to mark the black spots, and let the rest alone. Of course, when it is desired to obtain an accurate rendering of the design, its fines and mouldings are enough but it often happens that works on architecture are of little use, because they afford the reader no means of judging of the effective intention of the arrano-ements which thev state. Use Italian traceries the eye is exclusively fixed

;

;

;

;

;

person, looking at an architectural drawing of the richly fohaged

cusps and intervals of

Or San Michele, would understand that all was extraneous, was a mere uded grace, and had notliing to do \sdth the real anatomy of .ne work, and that by a this sculpture

few bold cuttings through a effect of it all at once.

slali

of stone he

of Giotto, endeavored especially to there, as in every other

might reach the main

I have, therefore, in the plate

i

mark

of the design

these points of purpose ; ^stance, black shadows of a graceful form


THE LAMP OF POWER.

77

-

fying on the white surface of the stone, hke dark leaves laid

snow.

Hence, as before observed, the unii

^rsal

name

of

unon

foil a2:)plio(i

to such ornaments.

XIX. In order to tlie obtaining- their full effect, it is evident that much caution is necessary in the management of the glass. In the finest instances,

the traceries are open lights, either in towers, as in

this design of Giotto's, or in external arcades

hke that of the Campo and it is thus only

Santo at Pisa or the Doge's palace at Venice that their

full

beauty

is

shown.

In

;

domestic buildings,

or

in

windows of churches necessarily glazed, the glass was usually withdrsLwn entirely behind the tracei'ies. Those of the Cathedral of Florence stand quite clear of

it,

casting

shadows in well

their

detached hues, so as in most lights to give the appearance of a double tracery. In those few instances in which the glass was set in the tracery

as in

itself,

Or San

Michele, the effect of the latter

is

perhaps the especial attention paid by Orgagna to his surface ornament, was connected ^vith the intention of so glazing half destroyed

them.

:

It is singular to see, in late

tormented the bolder

architecture, the glass,

architects, considered as

which

a valuable means of

making the Hues of tracery more slender as in the smallest intervals of the windows of Merton College, Oxford, where the glass is advanced about two inches from the centre of the tracery bar ;

(that in the larger spaces being in the middle, as usual), in order to

prevent the depth of shadow from farther diminishing the apparent interval.

Much

of the lightness of the effect of the traceries

OA\ing to this seemingly unimportant arrangement.

speaking, glass spoils it

all traceries

and

;

should be kept well ^^^thin them,

^ith,

and that the most

careful

and

it is

when

much it

is

But, generally

to be wished that

cannot be dispensed

beautiful

desio-ns

should be

reserved for situations where no glass would be needed.

XX. The method have hitherto traced Gothic.

of decoration it,

common

by shadow was, to

the

northern

as far as

we

and southern

But in the carrying out of the system they instantly Hanno; marble at his command, and classical decoration sio'ht, the southern architect was able to carve the inter-

divero'ed.

in his

mediate spaces with exquisite leafage, or to vary his wall surface with

inlaid

stones.

The

northern

architect

neither

ancient work, nor p assessed the delicate material resource but to co

'er

;

knew the

and he had no

his walls Avith holes, cut into foiled shapes


THE LAMP OF POWER.

^8

This he did. Dften with great clumsiness like those of tlie windows. but always with a \dg-orous sense of composition, and always, observe^ depending on the shadows for effect. AVhere the wall was tliick and could not be cut through, and the foilings were large, those

shadows chd not flil the entire space but the form was, ne\'ertheless, drawn on the eye by means of them, and when it was possible, they ;

were cut clear through, as in raised screens of pediment, like those of the west front of Bayeux cut so deep in every case, as to secure, ;

low front

in all but a du-ect

The

spandi-il,

great breadth of shadow.

light,

given at the top of Plate VII.,

Cathedral of Lisieux

western entrance of the

by the continuance

but fuU of

spirit

the

;

opposite

be

Its

work is altogether have different,

spandiils

though balanced, ornaments very inaccurately adjusted, each

now

or star (as the five-rayed figure,

to

of the masonic operations which

have already destroyed the northern tower. rude,

from the south-

one of the most

Normandy, probably soon

quaint and interesting doors in lost for ever,

is

;

portion appeai-s to have been) cut on

rosette

quite defaced, in the upper

own

its

block of stone and

with small nicety, especially illustrating the point I have

fitted in

above insisted upon

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the

architect's utter neglect of the

forms of

intermediate stone, at this early period.

The

arcade, of

which a

single arch

forms the flank of the door

left,

;

and shaft are given on the

three outer shafts bearing three

orders within the spandril which I have drawn, shafts carried over

concave

cut

foils,

and each of these

an inner arcade, decorated above with quatre-

and filled with leaves, the whole disposition and full of strange play of light and shade.

exquisitely picturesque

For some time the penetrative ornaments, if so they may be for called, maintained their bold and independent cha-

convenience

Then they multiplied and

racter.

they did so

enlarged,

becoming shallower

from a spandril at Bayeux, ^ooks as pipe

;

finally,

saw before the

foil

if it

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

foam had been blown

or hanging on to, another, like bubbles in exphing

the eye was

as

then they began to run together, one swallowing up,

;

fig.

4.

fr*om a

they lost their indi\idual character altogether, and

made

in the

to rest

window

on the separating hues of tracery, as we and then came the great change and ;

of the Gothic power.

XXL

Fig.s

2.

and

3.,

the one a quadrant of the star

window of

the Uttle chapel close to St. Anastasia at Veroni. and the other a


TUE LAMP OF POWER. very singular example from

compared

show the

of

tlie

Eremitaiii at Padua,

one of the ornaments of the transept toweia

Avitli fig. 5.,

of Rouen,

tlie cliurcli

Yfi

closely correspondent conditions of thy early

Northern and Southern Gothic.^^

But, as

we have

said, the Italian

being embarrassed for decoration of wall surface, and

architects, not

not being obliged, hke the Northmen, to multiply their penetrations,

held to the system for some time longer

;

and while they increased That

the refinement of the ornament, kept the purity of the plan.

refinement of ornament was their the wa} for the renaissance attack.

weak point however, and opened They fell, hke the old Romans,

their luxury, except in the separate instance of the magnificent

by

That architecture beo-an with the luxuriance in it founded itself on the Byzantine mosaic and laj-ing aside its ornaments, one by one, while it

school of Veii^ce.

which

and

all

others expired

fi-etwork

;

:

fixed its forms by laws more and more severe, stood forth, at last, a model of domestic Gothic, so gTand, so complete, so nobly systemadsed, that, to my mind, there never existed an architecture with so

st^rn a claun to our reverence.

I

do not except even the Greek

Doric; the Doric had cast nothing away; the fourteenth century

Venetian had cast away, one by one, for a succession of centuries, every splendor that art and wealth could give \ts

crown and

jewels,

its

its

gold and

it.

its color, like

It

had

laid dov^^n

a king disrobing

;

had resigned its exertk)n, like an athlete reposing once capricious and fantastic, it had bound itself by lavv's in\iolable and serene as It retained nothing but its beauty and its those of nature herself power both the highest, but both restrained. The Doric fluting? )t

;

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the Venetian mouldino-s were unchangjeornament admitted no temptation, â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the Venetian ornament embraced,

irreo-uiar number The Doric manner

were of able.

was the while

fastino-

governed,

it

all

know

it

vegetable and animal forms

temperance of a man, the not

of

of an anchorite

so magnificent a

command

of

Adam

;

it

was the I do

over creation.

marking of human authority

as the iron

grasp of the Venetian over his ovni exuberance of imagination

calm and solemn

restraint with which, his

mind

filled

;

the

with thoughts

and fiery hfe, he gives those thoughts expression and then withdraws within those massy bars and

of floAving leafage for

an

instant,

^^ levelled cusps of stone.

And

his

power

to

do

this

the forms of the shadows in

depended altogether on his retaining Far from carrying the eye liis sight.


THE LAMP OF POWER.

80

upon the stone, he abandoned these hitter one by and while his mouldings received the most shapely order and symmetry, closely correspondent with that of the Kouen tracery, compare Plates IV. and VIIL, he kept the cusps wathin them perto the ornaments,

one

;

fectly flat, decorated, if at fillet foil,

all,

stamp, told upon the eye, with

No

with a

trefoil

(Palazzo Foscan), or

(Doge's Palace) just traceable and no more, so that the quatrecut as sharply through them as if it had been struck out by a all its

four black leaves, miles away.

knots of flowerwork, no ornaments of any kind, were suffered to

interfere with the purity of its

form

:

the cusp

is

usually quite sharp

;

but slightly truncated in the Palazzo Foscari, and charged mth a simple ball in that of the Doge; and the glass of the window,

where there was any, was, as we have seen, thrown back behind the stone-work, that no flashes of light might interfere with its depth. Corrupted forms, like those of the Casa d'Oro an., ^alazzo Pisani,

and

several others, only serve to

show the majesty

of the

common

design.

XXII. Such are the principal circumstances traceable in the treatment of the two kinds of masses of light and darkness, in the hands of the earlier architects

and breadth

;

gradation in the one, flatness in the other,

and exhibited by we have before the means of division

in both, being the quahties sought

every possible expedient, up to the period when, as stated, the

of surface. tracery

;

hue was substituted for the mass, as Enouo-h has been said to illustrate

but a word or two

Those of the

is still

and proportioned.

Where

throw out into broad

com-

shafts, variously associated

concave cuttings occur, as in the beautiful

west doors of Bayeux, they are between cylindrical

surfaces,

reo-ards

earlier times were, in the plurality of instances,

posed of alternate square and cylindrical

The eye

light.

and commonly upon

ijrocess is

as

this,

necessary respecting the mouldings.

few.

In

in

shafts,

which they

aU cases dwells on broad

co.irse of time,

a low ridgy

seen emero-ino; alono; the outer edo-e of the cylindrical

forming a hne of light uj)on it and destropng its gradation. Hardly traceable at first (as on the alternate rolls of the north door of Rouen), it gTows and pushes out as graduilly as a stag's horns sharp at fii'st on the edge but, becoming prominent, it receives a

shaft,

:

;

truncation,

and becomes a

definite fillet

on the face of the

yet to be checked,

it

pushes forward until the

and

is

finally lost in

ordinate to

it,

roll itself

a shght swell upon

roll.

Not

becomes sub-

its sides,

whilo


THE LAMP OF POWER.

81

the concanties have

behind

all the time been deepening* and enlarging from a succession of square or cyhndrical masses, tho

until,

it,

whole moulding has become a fillets,

series of concavities

AVhile this has been taking place, a similar, though less total,

rests.

change has affected the flowerwork

In Plate

itself

two from the transepts of Rouen. how absolutely the eye rests on the forms of the liave given

These mouldings nearly adhere to

darkness.

very slightly, though sharply, undercut.

These

Lo)

latter

were elongated

and to exhibit them

;

behind, so as to throw

;

on the

leaves,

went

to

from the south door of

(6,

deep conca\dty was cut

better, the

them out

2. («), I

be observed

In process of time, the

attention of the architect, instead of resting

the stalks.

I. fig.

It will

leaves, and on the what the trefoil is in the stone and are

three berries in the angle, being in light exactly

St.

edged by dehcate

u}3on which (sharp lines of light, observe) the eye exclusively

in lines of hght.

The system was

carried out into continually increasing intricacy, until, in the transepts

we have

of Beauvais,

brackets and flamboyant traceries,

of twigs

without any leaves at

though a

sufficiently characteristic, caprice, the leaf

This, however,

all.

is

composed a

partial^

being never gene-

and in the mouldings round those same doors, beaumanaged, but itself rendered liny by bold marking of its ribs and veins, and by turning up, and crisping its edges, large intermerally banished, tifully

diate spaces being always left to be occupied (c,

The

from Caudebec).

though diminished

in value,

was never

by intertwining stems

formed by berries or acorns,

trefoil of light

lost

up

to the last period of

hvino; Gothic.

XXIII.

It is

interesting to follow into

influence of the corrupting principle to enable us

sand times practised

enough it

;

felt

ai'tist,

me

many

ramifications, the it

vamly, for

men

invention

speak

;

much

has been written,

cannot be taught to compose or to

Power

of these, the highest elements of

not, therefore,

its

but we have seen enough of

draw our practical conclusion a conclusion a thouand reiterated in the experience and ad\ice of every but never often enough repeated, never profoundly

Of composition and

felt.

seems to

invent

to

;

nor, here, of that

in architecture, I

do

peculiar restraint in the

imitation of natural forms, which constitutes the dignity of even the

most luxuriant work of the gTeat periods. say a word or two in the next Chapter clusion, as practically useful as

it is

4*

;

Of

this restraint 1 shall

pressing

now

only the con-

certain, that the relative

majesty


:

THE LAMF OF POWER.

32

more on

of buildings depends

tlie

weight and \igor of

tlieir

masseSj

than on any other attribute of their design mass of everything, of bulk, of Bght, of darkness, of color, not mere sum of any of these, :

but breadth of them not broken light, nor scattered darkness, noi dl^'ided wei^^'ht, but solid stone, broad sunshine, starless shade. Time would fail me altogether, if I attempted to follow out the range of ;

the principle Avhich

it

;

there

not a feature, however apparently

is

The wooden

cannot give power.

fillings

trifling, to

of belfry lights,

necessary to protect their interiors from rain, are in England usually divided into a number of neatly executed cross-bars, like those of Venetian bhnds, which, of course, become as conspicuous in their

sharpness as they are uninteresting in their precise carpentry, multiplying, moreover, the horizontal hues which directly contradict those

Abroad, such

of the architecture.

are

necessities

met by

three or

four downright penthouse roofs, reaching each from within the win-

dow

to the outside shafts of

row of ruled

hues, the space

its

mouldings

;

instead of the horrible

thus divided into four or

is

live

grand

masses of shadow, mtli grey slopes of roof above, bent or yielding into all kinds of delicious swells and curves, and covered with warm tones of moss and lichen.

than the stone-work

itself,

Very and

often the thing all

because

it

is is

more

delightful

broad, dark, and

how clumsy, how common, the means are, shadow sloping roof, jutting porch, projecting get but balcony, hollow niche, massy gargoyle, frowning parapet gloom and simplicity, and all good things will follow in their place and time do but design Avith the owl's eyes first, and you will gain

simple.

matters not

It

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

that get weight and

;

;

the falcon's afterwards.

XXIV. it

looks

this

:

I

trite

am

grieved to have to insist upon what seems so simple and commonplace when it is written, but pardon me

for it is an)i:hing

but an accepted or undei'stood principle in

and the less excusably forgotten, because it is, of all the great and true laws of art, the easiest to obey. The executive facility of complying with its demands cannot be too earnestly, too frankly, practice,

asserted.

There are not

pose, not twenty

of

who

Or San Michele

man

five

men

in

are

adorned

;

but there

wiio could invent and dispose

village

the kino;dora

who

could com-

could cut, the foliage with which the windows

its

mason who could not cut them. and a little

roof leaves on white paj^er,

is

many

a village clergy-

black openings, and not a

Lay a few

clover or

wood-

alteration in their positions


THE LAMP OF POWER.

83

suggest figiu'es Avliich, cut boldly tlirough a slab cf marble would be worth more window traceries than an architect could draw There are few men in the world who could in a summer's day. design a Greek capital there are few who could not produce some vigor of effect with leaf designs on a Byzantine block few who could design a Palladian front, or a flamboyant pediment; many who could build a square mass like the Strozzi palace. But I know Will

;

:

not

how

stone

Alps

it is,

;

but

all

we do

that

is

wasted, and unsubstantial.

and mice

built like frogs

our

What

castles).

which stand

more oak than sympathy with acorns tlian

unless that our English hearts have

them, and have more

in

filial

small and mean, It is

if

not worse- -thin, and

not modern w^ork only

we have

;

since the thirteenth century (except only in

a contrast between the

pigeon-holes

pitiful little

for doors in the east front of Salisburv, lookinof like the

and the soaring arches and

entrances to a beehive or a wasp's nest,

kingly crowTimg of the gates of x\bbeville, Rouen, and Rheims, or the rock-hewn piers of Chartres, or the dark and vaulted porches and

writhed

pillars of

Verona

How

!

Of domestic

architecture

what need

is

how cramped, how poor, how miserable how beneath the mark of attack. in its petty neatness is our best What and the level of contempt, that which is common with us there to speak

?

small,

!

!

a strange sense of formalised deformity, of shrivelled precision, of starved accuracy, of minute misanthropy have w^e, as we leave even the rude streets of Picardy for the market towns of Kent! that street architecture of ours

and boldness, ness, I

until

we

is

bettered, until

we

give

give our window^s recess, and our

know not how we can blame our

it

Until

some

size

w^alls thick-

architects for their feebleness

and them at a word to conceive and deal with They ought not to Uve in our cities there is breadth and solidity ? that in their miserable walls which bricks up to death men's imagi-

in

more important work

shghtness

:

can

we

;

their eyes

are inured to naiTowTiess

expect

;

nations,

as

surely as ever

perished

forsworn nun.

An

architect

Send him to our hills, and let him study there what nature understands by a buttress, and what by a dome. There was something in the old power of architecture, which it had from the recluse more than from the citizen. The buildings of which I have spoken with chief praise, rose, indeed, out of the war of the piazza, and above the fuiy of the populace and Heaven forbid that for such cause we should ever have to lay a should hve as

little

in cities as a painter.

:


THE LAMP OF POWER.

84

larger stone, or rivet a firmer bar, in our

England

!

But we have

other sources of power, in the imagery of our iron coasts and azure of power more pure, nor less serene, than that of the hermit hills ;

spirit

which once lighted with white

lines of cloisters the glades of

th3 Alpine pine, and raised into ordered spires the wild rocks of the Norman sea which gave to the temple gate the depth and darkness ;

of Elijah's

Horeb cave

;

chife of lonely stoue, into

and

lifted,

out of the populous

city,

the midst of sailing birds and silent

grey

air.


CHAPTER THE

I.

v'dhie

It

was

LAMP

IV. BEAUTY.

OF

stated, in the outset of the preceding chapter, that t'ae

of architecture depended on two distinct characters

the impression

receives

it

from human power

:

tlie

one,

the other, the image

;

I have endeavored to show in bears of the natural creation. what manner its majesty was attributable to a sympathy with the effort and trouble of human life (a sympathy as distinctly perceived in the gloom and mystery of form, as it is in the melancholy tones it

of sounds).

I

desire

now

excellence, consisting in

to

trace

th<at

happier element of

its

a noble rendering of images of Beauty,

derived chiefly from the external appearances of organic nature. It i-s irrelevant to our present purpose to enter into any inquiry respecting the essential causes of impressions of beauty.

I

have

my

thoughts on this matter in a previous work, and I hope to develope them hereafter. But since all such inquiries can only be founded on the ordinary understanding of what is meant by the term Beauty, and since they presume that the feehng of

partly expressed

mankind on

this subject is universal

and

present investigation on this assumption

instinctive, I shall base ;

ray

and only asserting that to

be beautiful which I believe will be granted

me

to be so \\ithout

would endeavor shortly to trace the manner in which this element of delight is to be best engrafted upon architectural design, what f e the purest sources from which it is to be derived, and what 3 errors to be avoided in its pursuit. will be thought that I have somewhat rashly limited the II. eleme rs of architectural beauty to imitative forms. I do not mean to ass. rt that every ai-rangement of hne is directly suggested by dispute, I

t'

but that all beautiful lines are adaptations of those which are commonest in the external creation that in proportion to the richness of their association, the resemblance to natural work, aa a natural object

;

;


;

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

86 a

and and

tyiDe

seen

;

man

help, tliat

must be more closely attempted, and more clearly beyond a certain point, and that a very low one,

cannot advance in the invention of beauty, ^^athout directly Thus, in the Doric temple, the triglyph and

imitating natural form.

cornice are unimitative

wood.

fluence over us

is

or imitative only of artificial cuttings

;

one would

]S"o

call

members

these

in their severity

Their

beautiful.

The

and simphcity.

of in-

fluting of

the column, which I doubt not was the Greek symbol of the bark of the tree, was imitative in

its

canaliculated organic structures.

and feebly resembled many

origin,

Beauty

is

instantly felt in

but

it,

The decoration proper was sought in the true forms Again the Doric capital of organic hfe, and those chiefly human. was unimitative but all the beauty it had w?Âťs dependent on the precision of its ovolo, a natural curve of the most frequent occurThe Ionic capital (to my mind, as an architectural invention, rence. exceedingly base) nevertheless depended for all the beauty that it had on its adoption of a spiral line, perhaps the commonest of all that characterise the inferior orders of animal organism and habitaof a low order.

:

;

Farther progress could not be

tion.

of the acanthus

Again type

is

:

the

always

Eomanesque arch befoi'e

and horizon of the for

God

The

earth.

beautiful as an abstract line.

from the

or

invention

was

Its

cylindrical pillar

is

alwaj^s beautiful, is

pleasant to

The pointed arch is beautiful it is the termination of that shakes in summer wind, and its most fortunate

associations are directly

III.

is

us in that of the apparent vault of heaven,

;

every leaf

step

direct imitation

has so moulded the stem of every tree that

the eyes.

field,

made without a

leaf.

could

stars

borrowed from the of

not reach

its

flowers.

without

frank

to gather the fiowers themselves,

Now,

I

would

insist especially

trefoiled grass of the

Further than imitation.

on the

fact,

next

Ilis

and wreathe them

not that further illustrations will occm' to the

man's

this,

in his

of which I doubt

mind

of everj reader,

most lovely forms and thoughts are directly takÂť from because I would fain be allowed to assume natural objects so the converse of this, namely, that forms which are 72ot taker from I know this is a bold assun.ption natural objects must be ugly. that

all

i

;

but as

I

have not space to reason cut the points wherein

beauty of form consists, that being

far

too serious a

es;^ential

work

to

be


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

8t

undertaken in a bye way, I have no other resource than to ase this

mark

accidental

which

or test of beauty, of

whose truth the considerations

hope hereafter to lay before the reader

I

may

assure him.

1

say an accidental mark, since forms are not beautiful because they are copied from nature

only

;

it is

ceive beauty without her aid. this,

I

even from the examples above advanced

fidence "with

which

enable

will

it

me

importance, namely, what

many

;

to con-

will grant

me

the degree of con-

granted must attach also to his accej^tance

it is

of the conclusions which will follow from frankly,

man

out of the power of

beheve the reader

to determine

or

is

it

but

;

if

For there are

not ornament.

is

be granted

it

a matter of very essential

forms of so called decoration in architecture, habitual, and therefore, with approval,

received,

or

at

all

without

events

any

venture at expression or dislike, which I have no hesitation in asserting to be not ornament at

which ought

in truth to

but to be ugly things, the expense of

all,

be set down in the

" For Monstrification."

I believe that

architect's contract, as

we regard

these customary

deformities with a savage complacency, as an Indian does his flesh

patterns

and paint

(all

nations being in certain degrees and

them

I believe that I can prove

savage).

hope hereafter to do so conclusively

;

but,

to be

senses

monstrous, and I

meantime,

I

can allege in

defence of

my

natural, to

which the reader must attach such weight as he thinks

it

deserves.

proof;

persuasion nothing but this fact of their being un-

There

is,

however, a peculiar

difficulty in

using this

requires the writer to assume, very impertinently, that

it

what he has seen or supposes to exist. I suppose there is no conceivable form or grouping of forms but in some part of the universe an examjile of it may be found. But I think I am justified in considering those forms to be most natural which are most frequent; or, rather, that on the shapes which in the every day world are familiar to the eyes of men, God has stamped those characters of beauty w^hich He has

nothing

is

natural but

would not do

made

it

this

man's

;

for I

natin-e to love

;

while in certain exceptional forms

He

has shown that the adoption of the others was not a matter of I believe necessity, but part of the adjusted harmony of creation.

we may reason from Frequency to Beauty, and vice versa ; knowing a thing to be frequent, we may assume it to be and assume that Avhich is most frequent to be most beautiful for the forms of I mean, of course, visibly frequent beautiful

that thus that

;

:

;


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

88

anatomy Maker to bear

things wliicli are liidden in caverns of the earth, or in the

by

of animal frames, are evidently not intended

their

And, again, by frequency I mean that the habitual gaze of man. hmited and isolated frequency which is characteristic of all perfecas a rose is a common flower, but yet not mere multitude tion In this there are not so many roses on the tree as there are leaves. respect Nature is sparing of her highest, and lavish of her less, :

;

beauty

;

I call the flower as fi-equent as

but

in its allotted quantity,

where the one

is,

the

leaf,

because, each

there will ordinarily be the

other.

IV. The

ornament, then, which I would attack

so-called

first

that Greek

is

now, I believe, usually known by the Itahan name It so happens that in is exactly a case in point.

fi-et,

Guilloche, wliicli

crystals of bismuth,

formed by the miagitated cooling of the melted

metal, there occurs a natural resemblance of

it

But

almost perfect.

bismuth not only are of unusual occm-rence in every-day and hfe, but their form is, as far as I know, unique among minerals not only unique, but only attainable by an artificial process, the metal itself never being found pure. I do not remember any other crystals of

;

substance or arrangement which

Greek ornament

and

;

presents a resemblance to this

I think that I

may

trust

my remembrance

as

most of the arrauQ-ements which occur in the outward On this ground, then, 1 forms of common and familiar things. or, in the literal sense of the word, allege that ornament to be ugly monstrous different from anything which it is the nature of man

includino-

;

;

to

admire

preferable lines

:

which

and

:

to

think

I

an uncarved

one covered with

this vile

fillet

plinth

or

infinitely

concatenation of straight

it be employed as a foil to a true ornament, may, perhaps, sometimes with advantage or excessively it occurs on coins, the harshness of its arrano-ement beinsj

unless indeed it

small, as

;

less perceived.

V. Often

in association vvith this hon'ible design

works, one which

is

as beautiful as

whose

dart moulding,

And why

is

which

composed

is

chiefly

rolls

endless shore.

painful

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

find, in

Greek

that egg

this

?

one not only familiar to us in the

soft

but happens to be that of nearly every and murmurs under the surf of the sea, on aU its

housing of the bird's pebble that

is

perfection, in its place

been surpassed. it is

we

and and way, has never Simply because the form of

tliis

nest,

And with

that a pecuhar accuracy

;

for the

mass which


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. bears the light in this moulding the is

89

not in good Greek work, as in

is

of the Erechtheum, merely of the shape of an ^gg.

f'-ieze

of variety in the curve which

impossible too highly to praise,

is

it

It

a dehcacy and keen sense

Jiattened on the upper surface, with

attaining exactly that flattened, imperfect oval, which, in nine cases

random ft-om the and the moulding is vulgar instantly. It is singular also that the insertion of this rounded form in the hollowed recess has a painted type in the plumage of the Ai'gus pheasant, the eyes of whose feathers are so shaded as exactly out of ten, will be the form of the pebble lifted at

Leave out

rolled beach.

flatness,

an oval form placed in a hollow.

to represent

VI.

this

It will evidently follow,

natural resemblance, that

we

upon our apphcation of

shall at

once conclude that

must be composed of curves any common natural form in which it is beautiful forms

this test of

since there

;

perfectly

all

is

hardly

possible to discover a

Nevertheless, Architecture, having necessarily to deal

straight line.

with straight hues essential to the expression of

power

its

many instances and to must frequently be content

its

purposes in

in

others,

measure of beauty which is consistent with such primal and we may presume that utmost measure of beauty to have been attained when the arrano-ements of such lines are consistent with the most frev^uent natural groupings of them we can M'ith that

forms

;

discover, although, to find right lines in nature at

all,

we may ba

compelled to do violence to her finished work, break through the

and colored surfaces of her

sculptured

crags,

and examine the

processes of their crystallisation.

VII. I have just convicted the Greek

has no precedent to allege for

Let us

form of a rare metal.

Lombard right of

Plate XII.

architects,

lines

as

the

shadow added.

Cathedral of Pisa,

made

if it

in a hurry,

dubious.

of ugliness, because

fi'et

arrangement except an

brino; fig. 7,

as

it

artificial

an ornament of

into court

exclusively

other, only, observe, with the

composed of

noble

element

This ornament, taken from the front of the is

Lombard churches

universal throughout the

of Pisa, Lucca, Pistoja,

upon them

its

and Florence

;

cannot be defended.

and Its

it

will

first

be a gTave apology

stain

for itself,

sounds marvellously hke the Greek one, and highly

It says that its

carefully prepared

terminal contour

artificial

crystal

of

is

the very image of a

common

salt.

Salt being,

however, a substance considerably more famihar to us than bismuth,


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

90

the chances are soi-iewhat in favor of the accused

But

ah-eady.

has more to say for

it

Lombard ornament

and more

itself,

to the jiurpose

main outhne is one not only of natural crystallisation, but among the very fii'st and commonest of crystalhne forms, being namely, that

the

pnmal

and

tin,

its

condition of the occurreiice of the oxides of iron, copper,

of the sulphurets of iron and lead, of fluor spar, &c.

that those projecting forms in

surface represent the

its

;

and

conditions

of structure wliich effect the change into another relative and equally

common may rest lines as

This

form, the cube.

crystalline

quite enough.

is

We

good a combination of such simple right can be put together, and gracefully fitted for every place in assm-ed

which such

as

it is

lines are necessary.

I would try is that o^our Tudor work, the portcullis. Reticulation is common enough in natural form, and very beautiful but it is either of the most delicate and gauzy texture, or of variously sized meshes and undulating There is no family relation between portcidlis and cobwebs lines. something like it, perhaps, may be found in some or beetles' \s-ings kinds of crocodile armor and on the backs of the Northern divers,

YIII.

The next ornament whose cause ;

;

but always beautifully varied in size of mesh. There is a dignity in the thing itself, if its size were exhibited, and the shade given

through

its

bars

diminution of

but even these merits are taken away in the Tudor

;

it,

on a

set

I believe, to say in

its

solid surface.

defence.

It

It

has not a

sino-le syllable,

another monster, absolutely

is

All that carving on Hemy the and unmitigatedly frightful. Seventh's Chapel simply deforms the stones of it. In the same clause with the portcullis, we may condemn all Its pride and heraldic decoration, so far as beauty is its object. significance

have their proper place,

parts of the building, as over

where

Ijosses of ceihng's, i'.

may be And &c.

legendary

its

presents

may

the fiem--de-hs;

its

fitly

gates

;

plainly read,

occurring in prominent

and allowably as

in

in places

painted wuidows,

sometimes, of course, the forms which

be beautiful, as of animals, or simple symbols hke but, for

the most part, heraldic similitudes and

aiTangements are so professedly and pointedly unnatural, that

wou.d be

invent anvthino^

it

and the use of them as a rei:)eated decoration will utterly destroy both the power and beauty of any building. Common sense and courtesy also forbid difficult to

their repetition.

It is right to

uo-lier

teU those

who

;

enter your doors that


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

91

you are sucli a one, and of such a rank but to tell it to ihom again and again, wherever they turn, becomes soon impertinence, and at ;

and these not considered for

bearings occur in few places,

Let, therefore, the entire

last folly.

as an ornament, but as an inscription

Thus we may multiply

of them.

fleur-de-lis, or

we must IX.

as

fair

Enghsh

the Florentine gigho bianco, or the

rose

but

;

not multiply a Iving's arms.

It will also fallow, fi'om

these considerations, that

part of heraldic decoration be worse than another, since, of all things unlike nature, the

most

and

;

symbol be chosen out much as we choose the French

frequent appliance, let any single and

forms of

Even gTaphic tellurium and

so.

anything but

legible.

All

lettei's are,

any one

if

the motto

it is

;

perhaps, the

letters are,

felspar look, at their clearest,

be considered as

therefore, to

and to be endured only upon occasion in places where the sense of the inscription

that

fiightful things,

;

say,

is

importance than external ornament.

of

is

to

more

churches, in

Inscriptions in

rooms, and on pictures, are often desirable, but they are not to be considered as architectural or pictorial ornaments

:

they

are,

on the

contrary, obstinate offences to the eye, not to be suffered except

when

their

intellectual

office

introduces

them.

Place

them,

and let them be plainly -vmtten, and not turned upside down, nor wrong end iirst. It is an ill sacrifice to beauty to make that illegible whose only mei'it Write it as you would speak it, simply and do not is in its sense. draw the eye to it when it would fain rest elsewhere, nor recommend your sentence by anything but a little openness of place and Write the Commandments on the architectural silence about it. therefore,

where they

will

be read, and there only

;

;

church walls where they

may

and a

;

tail

to every letter

be plainly seen, but do not put a dash

and remember that you are an

architect,

not a writino- master.

X.

Inscriptions appear sometimes to

be introduced

of the scroll on which they are written

;

and

in late

for

the sake

and modern

painted glass, as well as in architecture, these scrolls are flourished

and

turned

hither

and

thither

as

Ribands occur fi-equently in arabesques,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;tying up

they

if

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

in

some

w^re

ornamental.

of a high order,

and out among the fixed forms. It might be thought that ? They do not. There grass and sea-weed afforded apologetic types. is a wide difference between their structm*e and that of a riband. too,

Is there

flowers, or flitting in

anything

like

ribands in nature


;

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

02

Tliey have a skeleton, an anatomy, a central

or fibre, or frame,

rib,

work of some kind or another, which has a beginning and an end, a root and head, and whose make and strength eftects every The loosest direction of their motion, and every Hne of their form. weed that drifts and waves under the hea\dng of the sea, or hangs heavily on the brown and slippery shore, has a marked strength, its extremities are more strnctm-e, elasticity, gradation of substance ;

finely fibred

than

ramification

its

languid fines

is

centre, its centre

its

than

root

its

every fork of

:

measured and proportioned every wave of its It has its allotted size, and place, and function love. is

;

Wliat is there like tlus in a riband ? It has no structure it is a succession of cut threads all alike it has no You cut it skeleton, no make, no form, no size, no A\dll of its own. and crush it into what you will. It has no strength, no languor. it is

a

specific creature. :

It

cannot

;

into a single graceful form.

fall

true sense, but only flutter

:

it

only turn and be wrinkled. near

flowers

It is

come

loose

if

book, or plain I

vile

thing

roll

;

it

spoils

Never use

all

it.

that

is

Let the

they cannot keep together without being tied

leave the sentence un-^Titten

me.

a

wretched film of an existence.

its

cannot Avave, in the

It

cannot bend, in the true sense, but

remember the

you cannot write it on a tablet or know what authority there is against of Perugino's angels, and the ribands

if

of paper. scrolls

I

of Raphael's arabesques, and of Ghiberti's glorious bronze flowers

:

they are every one of them \ices, and uglinesses. no matter Raphael usually felt this, and used an honest and rational tablet, as in the Madonna di Fuligno. I do not say there is any type of such ;

tablets in nature, is

but

all

the difference hes in the fact that the tablet

not considered as an ornament, and the riband, or flying

The

tablet, as in

it is

not,

scroll, is.

Adam

and Eve, is introduced for the sake of the writing, understood and allowed as an ugly but necessary interruption. The scroll is extended as an ornamental form, which Albert Dm'er's

nor ever can be.

XL

But it will be said that all this want of organisation and form might be affirmed of di*apery also, and that this latter is a By no means. When was drapery a noble subject of sculpture. subject of sculpture by itself, except in the form of a handkerchief on urns in the seventeenth century and in some of the baser scenic Italian

decorations

becomes a sub

?

Drapery,

set of interest

as

such,

is

always ignoble

only by the colors

it

bears,

;

it

and the


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. impressions wliich

receives

it

93

from some foreign form or

noble di'aperies, either in painting or sculpture

All

force.

and texture

(color

being at present out of our consideration), have, so far as they are anything more than nexiessities, one of two great functions they are ;

They

the exponents of motion and of gravitation.

most

are the

means of expressing past as well as present motion in the figure, and they are almost the only means of indicating to the eye The Greeks used the force of graAnty which resists such motion. drape) y in sculpture for the most part as an ugly necessity, but valuable

availed

themselves of

exao-o-eratino'

gladly

it

in

the arrano-ements of

it

representation

all

which

of

action,

exi^ress ho'litness in the

and follow gesture in the person. The Christian sculptors, body, or disliking it, and depending exclusively

material,

cai'ing little for the

at lirst contentedly as a veil,

on the countenance, received drapery

but soon perceived a capacity of expression in

had not seen or had despised. expression was the entire removal

The

v.hich the

it

principal

Greek

element of

this

what was so preeminently capable of being agitated. It fell from their human forms plumb doA\ni, sweeping the ground heavily, and conceahng the feet while the Greek drapery was often blown away from the thio-h. The thick and coarse stuffs of the monkish dresses, so of agitation from

;

absolutely opposed to the thin and gauzy web of antique material, suggested simplicity of division as well as v/eight of fall. There And thus the drapery w^as no crushing nor subdividing thenl. it before had of The A\ind had no power upon none upon the soul and the motion of

gradually came to represent the spirit of repose as

motion, repose saintly and severe. the garment, as the passion

;

the figure only bent into a softer line the stillness of the falling followed

by

fighter undulation

Thus

slow cloud by drooping rain

like a

it

it

is

indeed noble

As

majesty, being hterally the only

mysterious natural

passive

and

less

beautiful because

expresses

the

trusted to

its

of

merits,

that of Carlo Dolci

;

but

it

is

as

that of gravitation,

means we have

an exponent has especial

of fully representing

earth (for falling water

of its

it

So,

lines).

again, in

is

sails

receives the forms of solid curved surface,

force

own

force

defined in it

veil,

only in links of

followed the dances of the angels.

treated, drapery

of other and higher things.

this

:

another in\isible

and given

and the

for its

Caraccis,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

^is

But

element.

own

sake,

is

and

cfrapery

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;drapery

always base.

less it

hke


:

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

84

XII. Closely connected of

that

tlie

-^dtli

and

a'arlands

festoons

abuse of

and bands,

scrolls

flowers

of

an

as

is

arcliitectura<

decoration, for unnatural arrangements are just as ugly as unnatural

forms

and

;

bound

to

associations as

imitate

them, as far as

may

is

ornament

just

indication

of

it

expanded

She

then* origin.

she

is

not to

not to carve

is

to account for the leaves at the

nevertheless to place her most exuberant vegetable

where Nature would have placed it, and to give some that radical and connected structure which Nature

would have given because

up her columns

is

be in her power, in such

arrangement;

natural

u'regular stems of ivy

may

and express

befit

the

directly

top, but she

boiTowing the objects of nature,

in

arcliitectiu-e,

i^lace

Thus the Corinthian

it.

capital

is

beautiful,

expands under the abacus just as Nature w^ould have it

and because

;

though that root

is

looks as

it

And

unseen.

are beautiful, because they nestle

if

the leaves had one root,

the flamboyant leaf mouldings

and run

uj)

the hollows, and

fill

the angles, and clasp the shafts which natural leaves would have delighted to leaves

:

fill

and to

They

clasp.

are

no mere

cast of natural

they are counted, orderly, and architectural

naturally,

XIII.

and

Now

:

but they are

therefore beautifully, placed. I

do not mean

she loves them, and uses

to say that

them

lavishly

Natm*e never uses festoons ;

and though she does so

only in those places of excessive luxuriance wherein

it

seems to

me

that architectural types should seldom be sought, yet a falling tendril or pendent

bough might,

managed with freedom and

if

well introduced into luxuriant decoration (or if not,

want of beauty, but of

architectural fitness,

it

is

grace, be

not their

which incapacitates

But what resemblance to such example can manner of frmt and flowers, tied hea^ily into a long bunch, thickest in the middle, and pmned up by both ends ao-ainst a dead wall ? For it is strano-e that the wildest and t\iem for such uses).

we

trace in a

most

mass of

all

fanciful of the builders

ventured,

so

far as

I

know^,

of truly luxuriar-.

architecture never

even a pendent tendril

;

while the

Greek permitted this extraordinary 2:>iece of* luscious ugliness to be fastened in the middle of their blank surfaces. So surely as this arrangement is adopted, the whole value severest masters of the revived

of the flowerwork

is lost.

Who

among

upon work of St. Paul's ? It adds no dehghtfulness to

the crowds that gaze

the building ever pause to admire the flower is

as careful

and

as rich as

it

can be, yet

it


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. the edifice.

It is

no part of

it.

It

is

95

an ugly excrescence.

We

and should be happier if It makes the our conception were not disturbed by its presence. always conceive the building ^vithout

rest of the architecture look

and yet

it is

never enjoyed

it,

poverty-stricken,

itself

Had

it

instead of sublime

been put, where

it

;

ought,

it would have been beheld with never-ceasing do not mean that it could have been so in the present buildino-, for such kind of architecture has no business with rich ornament in any place but that if those groups of flowers had been put into natural places in an edifice of another style, their value would have been felt as vi\ddly as now their uselessness. WTiat apphes to

into the capitals, delight.

I

;

A garland is meant still more sternly true of garlands. upon a head. There it is beautiful, because we suppose But it is not meant to be it newly gathered and joyfully worn. hung upon a wall. If you want a cu'cular ornament, put a flat circle of colored marble, as in the Casa Dario and other such or put a star, or a medallion, or if you w^ant a palaces at Venice festoons

is

to be seen

;

put a sohd one, but do not carve the images of garlands, looking as if they had been used in the last procession, and been

ling,

Why not also dry, and serve next time ^vithered. and hats upon them ? XIV. One of the worst enemies of modern Gothic architecture,, though seemingly an unimportant feature, is an excrescence, as oftensive by its j^overty as the garland by its profusion, the dripstone in the shape of the handle of a chest of di'awers, which is used over

liung

up

to

<;arve pegs,

windows of w^hat we call Elizabethan buildings. it wdll be remembered that the square form was, be that of pre-eminent Power, and to be properly adapted

the square-headed

In the last Chapter,

shown

to

and limited to the exhibition of space or surface. Hence, when the window is to be an exponent of power, as for instance in those by

M. Angelo in the lower story of the Palazzo Piicardi at Florence, the Equare head is the most noble form they can assume but then either their space must be unbroken, and their associated moulduigs the most severe, or else the square must be used as a finial outline, and is chiefly to be associated with forms of tracery, in which the ;

form of power, the circle, is predominant, as in Venetian, and Florentine, and Pisan Gothic. But if you break upon your terminal square, or if you cut its hues oft' at the top and turn them It is an including form outwards, you liave lost its unity and space.

relative


THE LAMP OF BEAUTT.

96

no longer, but an added, isolated

line, and tlie Look abroad into tlie landscaj^e and see if you can so bent and fi-agmentary as tbat of tins strange

dripstone.

You

of ugliness,

its line is hai'slily

every other it

;

cannot.

a monster.

broken in

its

I

dropping

it

has,

it

is

itself,

every element

and unconnected with

looks glued to the wall, and the

some Hkehhood

the appearance of

off.

might proceed, but the task

named

Avindlass-looking

It unites

has no harmony either with structure or decoration,

it

has no architectural support,

only pleasant property of

It is

ugliest possible.

discover any one

is

a weary one, and I think I have

those false forms of decoration which are most dano-erous in

The barba-

our modern architecture as being legal and accepted.

risms of individual fancy are as countless as they are contemptible

they neither admit attack nor are worth

some by the

are countenanced,

authority

:

it

;

but these above named

;

by high

practice of antiquity, all

they have depressed the proudest, and contaminated the

purest schools, and are so established in recent practice that I write rather for the barren satisftiction of bearino- ^vituess ao-ainst them, tlian

with hope of inducing any serious convictions to their

pi-e-

judice.

XV. Thus without It

must

far of

difficulty

what

What

not ornament.

is,

will test.

is

consist of such studious arrangements of

being of

sents the hio'hest orders of existence.

of

all

the herb of the

than

animal forms the noblest.

in the richest ornamental

flo\nng river \vith

Imitated flowers are nobler

animals

than imitated stones, imitated

human form

form as are imita-

commonest amonor natural course the noblest ornament which repre-

of those which are

tive or suo-o-estive

existences, that

ornament

be determined by the apphcation of the same

its

field,

work

;

and the

pebbled bed, the

rock,

sea, the

the fruit-tree bearing

fruit,

;

imitated

are

combined

flowers

But

all

the fountain, the clouds of Heaven,

the creeping thing,

forms

the bird, the beast, the man, and the angel, mingle their

fair

on the bronze of Ghiberti. Every thing being then ornamental that

would ask

is

imitative, I

the reader's attention to a few general considerations,

here be offered relating to so vast a subject sake,

may

;

treatment of ornament which renders

it

?

that can

which, for convenience

be classed under the three heads of inquiry

the right place for architectural ornament

all

What

is

architectural

?

:

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;What

is

the peculiar

and what

is


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

97

the right use of color as associated with architectural

form

imitative

?

XVI. Wliat

is

the place for ornament

?

Consider

first

that the

characters of natural objects which the architect can represent are

few and abstract.

The

by which conveyed

greater part of those delights

Nature recommends herself to

man

at all times, cannot be

by him into his imitati\'e work. He cannot make' his gTass green and cool and good to rest ujDon, which in nature is its chief use to man nor can he make his flowers tender and full of color and of scent, which in nature are their chief powers of gi^^ng joy. Those qualities which alone he can secure are certain severe characters of form, such as men only see in nature on deliberate examination, and by the fidl and set appliance of sight and thought a man must lie down on the bank of orass on his breast and set himself to watch and penetrate the intertwining of it, before he finds that which is good to be gathered by the architect. So then while Nature is at all times pleasant to us, and while the sight and sense of her work may mingle happily with all our thoughts, and labors, and times of existence, that image of her which the architect carries away represents what we can only perceive in her by direct intellectual exertion, and demands from us, wherever it appears, an intellectual It exertion of a similar kind in order to understand it and feel it. ;

:

is

the \\Titten or sealed impression of a thing sought out,

it

is

the

and bodily expression of thought. XVII. Now let us consider for an instant what would be the effect of continually repeating an expression of a beautiful thought shaped

to

result of inquiry

any other of the senses

at times

when

that sense to the understanding of

it.

serious occupation, of stern business, a

the

mind could not address

Suppose that in time of

companion should

rej)eat in

our ears continually some favorite passage of poetry, over and over again

all

day long.

We

weary of the sound of

it,

should not only soon be utterly sick and but that sound would at the end of the

day have so sunk into the habit of the ear that the entire meaning of the passage would be dead to us, and it would ever thenceforward The music of it would not require some effort to fix and recover it.

meanwhile have aided the business

would thenceforward be same with every other form of fulness

present

its

in hand, while

in a

definite thought.

expression to the senses, at times

6

its

own

measure destroyed.

when

If

the

you

mind

delightIt is

the

\iolently is

other-


;

98

-rHE

wise eng'aged,

have

will

more

tliat

expression

be

\\dll

ineffective at the time,

it

to the

affected or disturbed, or if

you

mind

when

at times

it

and

Much

sharpness and clearness destroyed for ever.

its

you present

if

LAMP OF BEAUTY.

painfully

is

associate the expression of pleasant

thought with incongruous circumstances, you will

aflect that expres-

sion thenceforward with a painful color for ever.

XVIII. Apply

Remember eye

this to expressions of

that the eye

is

at

cannot choose but see."

it

that of the ear,

and

it is

thought received by the eye.

your mercy more than the Its

nerve

is

often busied in tracino-

"

ear.

not so easily

The

numbed

as

and watchino; forms

Now if you present lovely forms to it mind to help it in its work, and among objects of vulgar use and unhappy position, you \vill neither please the eye nor elevate the vulgar object. But you will fill and weary the eye with the beautiful form, and you will infect that form itself with the vulgarity of the thing to which you have \iolently attached it. It will never be of much use to you any more you have killed or defiled it its freshness and purity are gone. You will have to pass it through the fire of much thought before you will cleanse it, when when

the ear

is

cannot

it

at rest.

call

the

;

;

and warm

it with much love before it will revive. XIX. Hence then a general law, of singular importance present day, a law of simple common sense, not to decorate

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

belonging to jDurposes of active and. occupied

can

rest,

there decorate

;

where

rest

is

things

Wherever you

lif-^.

forbidden, so

the

in

is

You

beauty.

must not mix ornament wdth business, any more than you may mix play. Work first, and then rest. Work first and then gaze, but do

Do

not use golden ploughshares, nor bind ledgers in enamel. thrash

What

sculptured

^\-ith 1

it

will

flails

be asked, are we

is

m these

days on shop

it

palaces.

advantage in them where they vulgarise

power of giving

their

own

There

is

the streets of

Even

?

position

never,

in

so

of Greek

not a tradesall

our

cities,

are.

There

is

not the smallest

Absolutely valueless

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

utterly

pleasure, they only satiate the eye,

forms.

Many

of these

are

in

consequence,

enjoy

any more.

Many

and

themselves

thoroughly good copies of fme things, which things themselves shall

not

millstones.

ornaments which were invented to adorn

temples and beautify kings'

witliout the

all

on

doing so

familiar

fronts.

man's sign nor shelf nor counter in

which has not upon

bas-rehefe

in the habit of

The most

always and everywhere.

mouldings

nor put

:

a

we

pretty


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. beading and graceful bracket there gi'ocers'

and cheese-mongers' and

is

in

99

wood

hosiers'

or stucco above our

shops

tradesmen cannot understand that custom

is

how

:

is

it

that the

be had only by

to

good tea and cheese and cloth, and that people come to them for their honesty, and their readiness, and their right wares, and not because they have Greek cornices over their windows, or their names in large gilt letters on their house fronts ? how pleasurselling

it would be to have the power of going through the streets of London, pulling down those brackets and friezes and large names,

able

restoring to the tradesmen the capital they

had spent

in architec-

and putting them on honest and equal terms, each with

ture,

name

in black letters over his door, not shouted

down

his

the street from

the upper stories, and each with a plain wooden shop casement,

m

would not think of breaking in better for them would it be how much happier, how much wiser, to put their trust upon their own truth and industry, and not on the idiocy of their customers. It is curious, and it says httle for our national j^robity on the one hand, or prudence on the other, to see the whole system of our street decoration based on the idea that people must be baited to a shop as moths are to a candle. XX. But it will be said that much of the best wooden decoration of the middle ages was in shop fronts. No it was in house fronts, of which the shop was a part, and received its natural and consistent portion of the ornament. In those days men hved, and intended to with small panes

it

that peoj)le

order to be sent to prison

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

!

How much

;

live

hy then shops, and over them,

and

castles.

They gave them

own

their

all

contented with them and happy in them

:

days.

They were

they were their palaces

therefore such decoration as

made

and they gave it for their own sake. The upper stories were always the richest, and the shop was decorated chiefly about the door, which belonged to the house more than to it. And when our tradesmen settle to their shops in the same way, and form no plans respecting f iture \dUa architecture, let their whole houses be decorated, and their shops too, but with a national and domestic decoration (I shall speak more of this point in the sixth chapter). However, our cities are for the most part too and 1 large to admit of contented dwelhng in them throughout life

themselves happy in then

habitation,

;

do not say there pliop fr'oai the

is

harm

in our present system

dwelhng-house

;

of separating the

only vhere they are so sepai'ated, ^^

.rÂť

rr fr

O

let

fr^


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY

lOG

remember tliau the only reason for shop decoration is removed and see that the decoration be removed also. XXL Another of the strange and evil tendencies of the present

US

day -is to the decoration of the railroad station. Now, if there be any place in the world in which people are deprived of that portion of temper and discretion which are necessary to the contemplation of It is the very temple of discomfort, and the beauty, it is there. only charity that the builder can extend to us is to show us, plainly The whole system of as may be, how soonest to escape from it. railroad travelhng is addressed to people Avho, being in a huny, are

No

therefore, for the time being, miserable.

that hills

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

one w^ould travel in

manner who could help it who had time to go leisurely over and between hedges, instead of through tunnels and between

banks

at least those

:

as that

we need

who

consult

w^ould,

have no sense of beauty so acute

The

at the station.

it

railroad

relations a matter of earnest business, to be got It

possible.

transmutes a

man

is

in all its

through as soon as

from a traveller into a living parcel.

For the time he has parted with the nobler characteristics of his humanity for the sake of a planetary power of locomotion. Do not ask

him

to

Carry him else.

All

You might

admire anything. attempts

to

mockery, and insults to

There never was

more

as w^ell ask the

wind.

him soon he will thank you for nothing please him in any other way are mere the things by which you endeavor to do so.

safely, dismiss

:

flagrant

nor impertinent

folly

than the

smallest portion of ornament in anything concerned with railroads

or near them.

Keep them out

ughest country you can

them through the them the miserable things they

of the way, take

find, confess

and speed. Give good manufacturers, let the iron be tough, and the bricklaro-e waires to able workmen work solid, and the carriages strong. The time is perhaps not and to distant when these first necessities may not be easily met Better bury increase expense in any other direction is madness. gold in the embankments, than put it in ornaments on the stations. Will a single traveller be wilUng to pay an increased fare on the

are,

and spend nothing upon them but

for safety

large salaries to efficient servants, large prices to ;

:

South AVestern, because the columns of the terminus are covered with patterns from Nineveh ? He wall only care less for the Nine\ite ivories in the British Museum or on the North Western, :

because there are old English-looking spandrils to the roof of the


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. station at

Crewe

He

?

its

own

only have less pleasure in their proto*

^\'ill

Railroad architectm-e has or would have a

types at Crevvt House. dignity of

if it

were only

to

left

its

put rings on the fingers of a smith at his

XXII.

It is

101

work.

You would

not however only in these marked situations that the

abuse of which I speak takes

There

j^lace.

apphcation of ornamental work, which

blame of the same kind. disagreeable necessities

is

hardly, at present, an

not in some sort liable to

is

We have a bad habit of trying to disguise by some form of sudden decoration, which

in all other places, associated ^vith such necessities.

is,

which conceal the

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;the

roses

IMany

ventilators in the flat roofe of our chapels.

of those roses are of very beautiful design, borrowed :

name

I will

only one instance, that to which I have alluded before

works

not

anvil.

all their gi'ace

and

but their general form

is

finish are invisible

when they

from

fine

are so placed,

afterwards associated with the ugly build-

which they constantly occur and all the beautiful roses of the early French and English Gothic, especially such elaborate ones ings in

;

as those of the triforium of Coutances, are in consequence deprived

of their pleasurable influence

:

and

this

Not a

dishonored form.

havmg we have made of

without our

complished the smallest good by the use

congregation ever

single person in the

receives one ray of pleasure

from those roof roses

ac-

the

;

they are regarded

with mere indifference, or lost in the general impression of harsh emptiness.

XXIII. Must not beauty, the forms which

do not

it

if

we

then,

it ^vill

be asked, be sought

associate with our every-day hie

where

consistently,

and

you use the

beautiful form only as a

in places

it

?

Yes,

for in if

can be cilmly seen

;

you but

mask an 1 covering of the nor if you thrust it hito the

proper conditions and uses of things,

Put it in the dra\ving-room, not into the toil. upon domestic furnitm-e, not upon tools of handiAH men have sense of what is right in this manner, if they craft.. would only use and apply that sense every man knows where and how beauty g' ves him pleasure, if he would only ask for it when it does so, and not allow it to be forced upon him when he does not want it. Ask any one of the passengers over London Bridge at

places set apart for

workshop

;

put

it

;

this instant

on

its

whether he cares about the forms of the bronze leaves Modify these forms of leaves tell you, No.

lamps, and he will

to a less scale,

and put them on

his milk-jug at breakfast,

and ask


:

THE LAMP OP BEAUTY.

102

People hav€ wlietlier he likes them, and he will tell you, Yes. no need of teaching if they could only think and speak truth, and nor can a ask for what they like and want, and for nothino- else right disposition of beauty be ever arrived at except by this common sense, and allowance for the circumstances of it.e time and place. It does not follow, because bronze leafage is in bad taste on the lamps of London Bridge, that it would be so on those of the Ponte nor, because it would be a folly to decorate the house della Trinita fronts of Gracechurch Street, that it would be equally so to adorn

him

:

;

some

those of

probable repose.

It

was a wise

which made the

feeling

So, again, there

is

streets of

no couch of rest no subject of street ornament for there is

so wisely chosen as the fountain, where is

of greatest

depends entirely on the conditions of

Venice so rich in external ornament,

hke the gondola.

The question

town.

quiet pro\ancial

ejvternal or internal decoration

it is

a fountam of use

;

for it

just there that perhaps the happiest pause takes place in the labor

of the day,

when

the pitcher

breath of the bearer

is

rested on the edge of

is

drawn deeply, and the

it,

and the

hair swept from the

and the uprightness of the form declined against the and the sound of the kind word or lio-ht laufjh mixes with the trickle of the falling water, heard shriller and shriller as forehead,

marble

ledo-e,

the pitcher

fills.

What

pause

is

so sweet as that

depth of ancient days, so softened sohtude

mth

the

so

full

of the

calm of pastoral

?

XXIV.

11.

Thus

far,

then, of the j^lace for beauty.

next to inquire into the characters which fitted architectm'al

appliance,

and

it

We

were

peculiarly for

into the principles of choice

and of

aiTangement which best regulate the imitation of natural forms in which it consists. The full answering of these questions would be a treatise

on the

art of design

the two

:

I intend

only to say a few words

which are essentially and Abstraction. Neither of these quahties is necessary, to the same extent, in other fields of design. The sense of proportion is, by the landscape painter, frequently sacrificed to character and accident; the power of abstraction to The flowers of his foreground must that of complete realisation. often be unmeasured in their quantity, loose in their aiTangement

respecting

architectural,

what

is

conditions

—Proportion

of that

art

calculated, either in quantity or disposition,

concealed.

That calculation

is

by the

must be

artfully

architect to be nrominently


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. So the abstraction of few shown only in the painter's sketch

103

exhibited.

cbaracteristics out of

is

;

concealed

or

and

delights in Abstraction

it

i*

Architecture, on the contrary,

completion.

in

lost

many

work

in his finished

complete her forms.

fears to

Proportion

two especial marks of architectural Sculpture must have them design as distinguished from all other. leaning, on the one hand, to an architectural in inferior degTees

and Abstraction,

then, are the

;

manner, when

it

usually greatest (becoming, indeed, a part of

is

Architecture), and, on the other, to a pictorial manner, its

(and that in lights,

dignity,

all

and sink

when

it

is

mere ingenious car\'ing. XXV. Now, of Proportion so much has been writter, that I beheve the only facts which are of practical use have been overwhelmed and kept out of sight by vain accumulations of Proportions are as infinite particular instances and estimates. apt to lose

kmds of

and forms)

into

thing-s, as severally in colors, lines,

music

as possible airs in

:

and

it is

shades,

just as rational

an attempt to teach a young architect how to proportion truly and well by calculating for him the proportions of fine works, as it would be to teach him to compose melodies by calculating the mathematical relations of the notes in Beethoven's Adelaide or Mozart's Requiem. The man who has eye and intellect will invent beautiful proportions, and cannot h'4p it but he can no more tell us how to do it than Wordsworth could tell us how to ^^rite a sonnet, or than Scott could have told us how to plan a romance. But there are one or two general laws which can be told they are of no use, indeed, except as preventives of gToss mistake, but they are so far worth telHng and remembering and the more so because, in the discussion of the subtle laws of proportion (which will never be either numbered or known), architects are perpetually forgetting and transgressing ;

:

;

the very simplest of

XXVI. Of which member of some way supreme all,

one

equal things. proportion it

is

the

agTeeable

in ;

that wherever Proportion exists at

first is,

the composition

must be

over, the rest.

There

is

either larger than, or in

no proportion between

.They can have symmetry only, and symmetry without not composition.

the least necessary of

difficulty

first

is

its necessities.

obtaining

it.

but to compose

necessary to perfect beauty, but

It is

its

elements, nor of course

Any is

succession

of

is

equal

there any thing-s

to arrange unequal things,

thing to be done in beo-iuuiug a composition

is

is

and the

to determine


;

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

104 whicli

is

to

I believe tliat all that has beet

the principal tiling.

h(^

and taught about j^roportion, put together, is not to the architect worth the sino-le rule, weU enforced, " Have one laro-e thino; and several smaller things, or one principal thing and several inferioi things, and bind them Avell together." Sometimes there may be a reg'.ilar o-radation, as between the heio-hts of stories in o-ood desisrns foi houses sometimes a monarch wdth a lowly train, as in the spire with its pinnacles the varieties of arrangement are infinite, but the law is universal have one thing above the rest, either by size, or written

;

:

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Don't put the pinnacles without the

office,

or

What

a host of ugly church towers have

interest.

and none

pinnacles at the corners, buildings

like

tables upside

be

said,

shapes, ears

down

sjoire.

in England, with

middle

How many

!

King's College Chapel at Cambridge, looking like

down, with

their four legs in the air

have not beasts four

leg's

?

Yes, but

and with a head between them.

and perhaps a

:

in the

we

pair of horns

:

!

What!

legs

it vÂťi\\

of different

So they have a

pair of

Knock

but not at both ends.

a couple of pinnacles at either end in King's College Chapel,

and you will have a kind of proportion instantly. So in a cathedral you may have one tower in the centre, and two at the west end or two at the west end only, though a woi^e arrangement but you must not have two at the west and two at the east end, unless you have some central member to connect them and even then, buildings are generally bad which have large balancing features at the extremities, and small connecting ones in the centre, because it :

;

is

not easy then to

may

make

the centre dominant.

indeed liave wide wings, because the

size of

The

bird or

moth

the wing does not

The head and life are the mighty and the plumes, however wide, are subordinate. In fine west fronts with a pediment and two towers, the centre is always the principal mass, both in bulk and interest (as hadng the main gateway), and the towers are subordinated to it, as an animal's horns give supremacy to the wing. things,

The moment the towers lise so high as to overpower and become themselves the principal masses, they will destroy the proportion, unless they are made unequal, and one of them the leading feature of the cathedral, as at Antwerp and Strasburg. But the purer method is to keep them down in due are to

the

its

head.

body and

centre,

relation to the centre,

and

to

throw up the pediment into a steep

connecting mass, di-awing the eye to

it

by

rich tracery.

This

is


:

THE LAMP OF BEAUTT. nobly donv

and attempted partly

in St. Wiilfran of Al)be^ille,

Rouen, tliongh that west front

made up

is

105

many

of so

at

unfinished

and supervening designs that it is impossible to guess the reaÂŤ intention of anv one of its builders. XXVII. This rule of supremacy apphes to the smallest as well aa to the leadino- features

of

all

from Rouen cathedral type of the noblest

;

interestino-ly seen in the arrano-ement

have given one, on the opposite page,

I

that of the tracery before distinguished as a

manner

of Xorthern Gothic (Chap.

a tracery of three orders, of which the

It is

and

leaf moulding, fig. 4.

in

is

it

:

good mouldings.

fio".

4. c in

window

the section

following the Hue of the tracery

;

of these four, the leaf moulding

is,

largest

;

next to

it

the innermost roll

the outer

plain

roll

third

roll,

also seen

shafts of corres-

orders

;

are plain rolls

moulding

four divisions of

as seen in the sections,

then,

in order that

[e),

§ XXII.).

these two di\isions surromid the entire

The second and

sections.

and a

b in the section,

II.

di^^ded into a

is

and are carried by two-face

or panelhng,

ponding

;

first

it

by an

may

in all

much

the

exquisite alternation,

not be lost in the recess,

and the intermediate (d), the smallest. Each roll has its own shaft and the two smaller, which in effect upon the eye, and capital ;

o\ving to the retirement of the innermost, are nearly equal, have

smaller capitals than the two larger, hfted a the

same

e to

/ in

The wall

level.

the section

back to the

full

;

but

m

the quatrefoil

soft

e.

to

flat,

only thrown

in

simpler mouldings of the smaller quatrefoil

^vith the

fretted

but the architect is given from ^ to ^g by the heavy look of its circular foils as 5

opposed to the hght spring of the arches below cusps obhquely clear from the wall, as seen in fig.

where they meet the

it

This could not, however,

above, whose half section

was e\idently

is

them

curved, as from

one, the mouldings falling back to

nearly a vertical curve behind the roll

managed

it

is

depth of the recess below so as to get a sharp

shadow instead of a be

to bring

little

in the trefoiled lights

circle,

but with their

finials

:

so 2.,

he threw attached to

its it

pushed out from

their natural level {h, in the section) to that of the first order

(^'2),

and supported by stone props behind, as seen in the profile fig. 2., which I got from the con'espondent panel on the buttress face (fig. 1. being on its side), and of which the lower cusps, being broken away, show the remnant of one of their props projecting from the wall.

The obhque curve thus obtained 5*

in the profile is of sin^ilar


THE LAMP OF BEAUTT.

106

Take

grace.

it all

in

met with a more

I have never

all,

exquisito

and general arrangeraeDt the windows of the period are fine, and especially

piece of varied, yet severe, proportioned

(though

all

delightful in the subordinate proportioning of the smaller capitals tc

the

smaller

The

shafts).

only

fault

misarrano-ement of the central shafts inner

roll,

is

the

the triple central shaft, the very awkwardness of

members which has

lateral

been in most instances

just

condemned. In the A^dndows of the

and

choir,

most of the period,

in

this difficulty is

avoided by making the fourth order a

only follows the

foliation,

course the largest roll in

and the

Foscari (Plate VIIL, and Plate IV.

the grandest in effect I have

ev^er

central

fig. 8.) is,

seen

:

which

it

has of

triple shaft

The mouldiniy

front.

fillet

outermost are nearly in

while the three

arithmetical progression of size,

roll Avith

inevitable

the enlaro-ement of the

-though beautiful in the group of four divisions at the

side, causes, in

hea^^

has

it

for

;

of the

Palazzo

for so simple

a group,

composed of a large

is

two subordinates.

XXVIII.

It is of course

impossible to enter into details of instances

belonging to so intricate a division of our subject, in the compass of a general essay. right.

I can

Another of these

but rapidly is

name

the chief conditions of

the connection of

Symmetry with

hori-

and of Proportion with vertical, division. Evidently there is now a in symmetry a sense not merely of equality, but of balance thing cannot be balanced by another on the top of it, though it may zontal,

:

by one

at the side of

Hence, while

it.

it

not only allowable, but

is

often necessary, to divide buildings, or parts of them, horizontally ?nto halves, thirds, or other equal parts, all vertical divisions of this

kind are utterly wrong

;

worst into

numbers which more betray the this

almost the

was taught

:

first

j^rinciple of

and yet

I

half,

equality.

next worst in the regular

should have thought

I

proportion which a

remember an important

young

architect

building, recently

erected in England, in which the columns are cut in half projecting architraves of the central

windows

and

;

it is

by the

quite usual

modern Gothic churches divided by a band of In all fine spires there are two bands and three parts, as at Salisbury. The ornamented portion of the tower is there cut in half, and allowably, because the spire forms the third mass to which the other two are subordinate two stories are also equal in Giotto's campanile, but dominant over smaUer divisiona to see the spires of

ornament half way up.

:


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. below,

and subordinated

arrangement

is difficult

noble

the

to

to treat

;

and

107

third

Even

above.

thij

usually safer to increjise oi

it is

diminish the height of the divisions regularly as they

as in the

rise,

Doge's Pahice, whose three divisions are in a bold geometrical proor, in towers, to get an alternate proportion between the gression :

body, the belfiy, and the crown, as in the campanile of But, at

events, get rid of equality

all

their card houses alike against

:

There

is

ugly tower in Italy that I

know

into vertical equal parts

the tower of Pisa.'^

XXIX. One more simple, least.

:

of,

and that

Proportion

by saying

junction of the spire and tower. influential

one

and tower. parts

it

;

So that

it is

may

and

to five in the

out confusion

five in

spire, so

feel this,

and

that the pinnacles conceal the

This

one reason

is

;

but a more

;

it

must be divided

into at least

is

about the best number of parts

horizontal extent, with freedom o^ increase

one case and seven in the other (in architecture, that is to

which are in preparation,

say

;

;

but not to more with-

for in organic structure

I purpose, in the course of

works

to give copious illustrations of this subject,

take at present only one instance of vertical proportion,

from the flower stem of the tago.

men

be into more (and in details with advantage),

the numbers cannot be limited).

I will

All

not enough, in order to secure propor-

but on a large scale I find three in elevation,

but

have to name, equally

that the pinnacles furnish the third term to the

a building unequally

tion, to divide tln-ee

is,

divided

between three terms at

is

the pinnacles.

usually express their feehng

spire

it is

Hence, as the pinnacles are not enough without the

neither the spire without

are

but one thoroughly

so because

is

principle of Proportion I

equally neglected.

Mark's

man

the laws of nature and the reason of

in arts, as in politics.

it,

St.

leave that to children and

;

Fig. 5. Plate XII.

gathered at random the uppermost

is

;

it is

is

common

water plantain,

AUsma Plan-

a reduced profile of one ?ide of a plant

seen to have

a mere shoot, and

five

masts, of which, however,

we can

consider only their rela-

up to the fourth. Their lengths are measured on the line A B, which is the actual length of the lowest mast a 6, A Câ&#x20AC;&#x201D;h c, A Dâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;c d, and A E=o? e. If the reader will take the trouble to measure these lengths and compare them, he will find that, within half a line, the uppermost, A E=f of A D, A D=f of A C, and A C=f of a most subtle diminishing proportion. From each of the joints spring three major and thi'ee minor branches, each between each but tha tions

AB

;

;


108

LAM? CF bealty.

TIi:^:

major brandies, at any

joint, are placed over tlie minor branches a by the curious arrangement of the joint itself the bluntly triangular fig. G. shows the section of any joint-

the joint below,

stem

is

;

The outer darkened

triangle

inner, left light, of the

spring from

the

is

the section of the lower stem

ledges

left

;

the

and the three main branches by the recession. Thus the stems

upper stem

;

The main

diminish in diameter just as they diminish in height.

branches (falsely placed in the profile over each other to show their

have respectively seven,

relations)

six,

bones, like the masts of the stem

tioned in the to be the

same

^:>Za?i

subtle manner.

four,

five,

and three arm-

these divisions being propor-

;

From

the joints of these,

seems

it

of the plant that three major and three minor branches

should again spring, bearing the flowers

but, in these infinitely commembers, vegetative nature admits much variety in the plant from which these measures were taken the full complement appeared only at one of the secondary joints. :

plicated

The

;

leaf of this plant has five ribs

on each

side, as its flower gene*

arranged with the most exquisite

rally five masts,

gi'ace of curve

;

but

of latera] proportion I shall rather take illustrations from architecture

the reader will find several in the accounts of the St.

Duomo

:

of Pisa and

Mark's at Venice, in Chap. V. §§ XIV. XVI. I give these illustrations, not as precedents all beautiful

arrangements merely as

:

proportions are unique, they are not general formulse.

XXX.

The other

condition of architectural treatment which Ave

proposed to notice was the abstraction of imitated form. is

a subject as

m existing

this, art,

partly involuntary it

;

and

it

tion are always abstract art,

and incomplete.

wrong.

But

it is

to

say,

wherein

danger

all art is

expresses only a small

much

In the progTess

attempts at imita-

its

decline

;

whence

often supposed to be in itself

consists,

abstract in

number

Let us endeavor

and wherein its

its

dignity,

beginnings

;

that

of the qualities of the

Curved and complex fines are represented by and simple ones interior markings of forms are few, and

thing ]-epresented. straight

its

I have said that it

first

not wrong always, only dangerous.

briefly to ascertain

XXXI.

is

examples

Greater completion marks

absolute completion usually

absolute completion of imitative form

find

a matter of

is

begins to be purposed.

of national as well as of individual mind, the

the progress of

we

because the abstraction of which

is

nicety to determine where

Is

But there

a peculiar difficulty in touching within these narrow limits on such

;


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

10$

Hiere is a resemblanco and conventional. phase, and the work of this in nation, great work of a between the childhood and io-norance, which, in the mind of a careless observer, The form of a tree on nii^ht attach something like ridicule to it. the Ninevite sculptures is much like that which, some twenty years and the types of the face and figure ago, was familiar upon samplers

mneh

s^^l^Loa2al

is

;

in early Italian art are susceptible of \\-hich T

do not pause to

insist

On

easy caricature.

separate the infancy of magnificent

the signs

manhood from every

other,

(they consist entirely in the choice of the

symbol and of the features abstracted) but I pass to the next stage of art, a condition of strength in which the abstraction which was begun in incapability is continued in free ^yiM This is the case, how;

ever, in

pure sculpture and painting, as well as in architecture

;

and

do but with that greater severity of manner which I beheve it art. fits either to be associated with the more realist an subordination, their of expression due in a only properly consists

we have nothing

expression is fii-st

to

varpng according

and office. The question whether the architecture is a frame

to their place

to be clearly determined

for the sculpture, or the sculpture

an ornament of the architecture.

of that sculpture

If the latter,

then the

the things

imitates, but to gather out of

it

first office

is

not to represent

them those arrangements

of form which shall be pleasing to the eye in their intended places. So soon as agreeable fines and points of shade have been added to

the mouldings which were meagTe, or to the lights which were unreand lieved, the architectural work of the imitation is accomplished ;

how

far it shall

upon

its

place,

be wrought towards completeness or not,

and upon

ticular use or position,

other various circumstances.

it is

will

If,

spnmetrically arranged, there

depend

in its par-

is,

of course,

an instant indication of architectural subjection. But symmetry is the most regular order, Leaves maybe carved not abstraction. and yet be meanly imitative or, on the other hand, they may be

m

;

throAvn wild and loose, and yet be highly architectural in their sepaNothing can be less symmetrical than the group of rate treatment.

two columns in Plate XIII. yet, since nothing bare sugof the leaf character is given but what is necessary for the theur o-estion of its image and the attainment of the fines desired, It shows that the workman only treatment is highly abstract. wanted so much of the leaf as he supposed good for his architecture,

leaves wdiich join the

and would allow no more

;

;

and how much

is

to be supposed good,


:

THE LAMP 6F BEAUTY.

110

much more on place and know that this is not usually

depends, as I have said,

ciivumstance thar

on general laws.

thought, and that

I

would insist on abstraction in all cases the and so difficult that I express my opinion upon it most diffidently but ray own feeling is, that a purely abstract manner, hke that of our earliest English work, does not afford room for the perfection of beautiful form, and that its severity is wearisome I ha\^e not done jusafter the eye has been long accustomed to it. tice to the Salisbury dog-tooth moulding, of which the effect is sketched in fig. 5., Plate X., but I have done more justice to it nevertheless than to the beautiful French one above it and I do not think that any candid reader would deny that, piquant and spirited as is

many good question

is

architects

:

so wide ;

;

that from Salisbury, the

Rouen moulding

is,

in every respect, nobler.

be observed that its symmetry is more complicated, the leafage being divided into double groups of two lobes each, each lobe of difWith exquisite feeling, one of these double groups ferent structm-e. It will

is

alternately omitted

on the other side of the moulding (not seen in

the Plate, but occupying the cavetto of the section), thus playful hghtness to the whole

;

and

if

g'i^'ing

a

the reader will allow for a

beauty in the flow of the curved outlines (especially on the angle), of which he cannot in the least judge from my rude drawing, he will not, I think, expect easily to find

a nobler instance of decoration

adapted to the severest mouldings.

Now

will

it

be observed, that there

is

high

in its treatment a

degree of abstraction, though not so conventional as that of Sahsbury that is to say, the leaves have httle more than then* flow and outhne represented

;

they are hardly undercut, but their edges are connected

by a gentle and most studied curve with the stone behind they have no serrations, no veinings, no rib or stalk on the angle, only an inci;

sion gracefully

made towards

their

extremities, indicative of the

The whole style of the abstraction shows that the architect could, if he had chosen, have carried the imitation much farther, but stayed at this point of his ow^n free will and what he has done is also so perfect in its kind, that I feel disposed to central rib

and

depression.

;

accept his authority without question, so far as I can gather

it

from

on the whole subject of abstraction. XXXII. Happily his opinion is frankly expressed. This moulding is on the lateral buttress, and on a level with the top of the north

his w^orks,

gate

;

it

cannot therefore be closely seen except fi-om the wooden


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. of the belfry

&laii^

hr a

distance

vavilt

of the gate

mouldings, as

same

plan.

is

it

;

fifty

by the same designer, at all events them is given in Plate I. fig. 2. a.

I think,

One

of

and associated

is

here infinitely

and a

fruit,

less

rib for

;

part of the It will

be

the ivy leaves have

each lobe, and are so far

undercut as to detach their forms from the stone leaf

In the

from the eye.

feet

half as near again, there are three rows of

itself,

seen that the abstraction stalks

not intended to be so seen, but calculated

at least, forty to

of,

II4

;

while in the Nine-

moulding above, of the same period, from the south

gate, serra-

added to other purely imitative characters. Finally, in the animals which form the ornaments of the portion of the gate which is close to the eye, abstraction nearly vanishes into perfect

tion appears

sculpture.

XXXIII. Nearness

to the eye, however,

is

not the only circum-

These very animals they are put

stance which influences architectural abstraction.

are not merely better cut because close to the eye close to the eye that they

on the noble

principle,

may, without

first,

indiscretion,

;

be better

I think, cleariy enunciated

lake, that the closest imitation shall

by Mr.

be of the noblest object.

cut,

East-

Farther,

and manner of growth of vegetation render a bona fide imitation of it impossible in sculptureâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; since its members must be reduced in number, ordered in direction, and cut away from it their roots, even under the most earnestly imitative treatment, becomes a point, as I think, of good judgment, to proportion the completeness of execution of parts to the formality of the whole and

since the wildness

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

must stand for a tree, to let also five or six But since the animal generally admits of touches stand for a leaf. is detached, and may be fully repreform its since outlineâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; perfect sented, its sculpture may be more complete and faithful in all its

since five or six leaves

be actually found, I believe, to guide animal form be in a gargoyle, incomhead only, as for plete, and coming out of a block of stone, or if a highly abstract. will be sculpture its use, partial such a boss or other But if it be an entire animal, as a hzard, or a bird, or a squirrel,

And

parts.

this principle will

the old workmer.

peeping

and

may

among

I Slink,

if

If the

h-afage, its sculpture

small, near the eye,

\vill

be

much

and worked

in

forther carried,

a fine material,

rightly be carried to the utmost possible completion.

Surely

bestowed on those which animate the we cannot wish mouldings of the south door of the cathedral of Florence ; nor desire a less finish


TH^ LAMP OF BEAUTY.

il2

that the birds in the capitals of the Doge's palace should be stripped

of a single plume.

XXXIY. Under ture

may

perfection

be

these hraitations, then, I think that perfect sculp-

made a

was said

liio-hest deo-ree

for the

;

on the imitated

moment

framework

its

It

is

this

so in the

the architect allows himself to dwell is

a chance of his losing sight of the

business as a part of the composition,

and

and effect to the delight of delicate His architecture has become a mere lost. of dehcate sculpture, which had better be

points of shade

And

carvinrr.

outset to be dangerous.

portions, there

duty of his ornament, of sacrificing its

but

part of the severest architecture;

in the

then he

is

for the setting

It is well, therefore, that the taken down and put into cabinets. vouno- architect should be tauo-ht to think of imitative ornament as all

not to be regarded at first, of the extreme of grace iu language not to be obtained at the cost of purpose, meaning, force, or concisethe least of all perfections, and yet ness, yet, indeed, a perfection ;

the crowning one of is

all

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; â&#x20AC;&#x201D;one which by

an architectural coxcombry, but

trained safe

mind and power when

manner, as

it

itself,

and regarded

in

itself,

yet the sign of the most highly-

is is

associated with others.

It is

a

I think, to design all things at first in severe abstrac-

and to be prepared, if need were, to carry them out in that form ; then to mark the parts where high finish would be admissible, to

tion,

complete these always with stern reference to their genei-al effect, and then connect them by a graduated scale of abstraction with rest. And there is one safeguard against danger i'n this process on which I would finally insist. Never imitate anything but natural The degradaforms, and those the noblest, in the completed parts. tion of the cinque cento manner of decoration was not owing to its

the

naturalism, to

its

faithfulness of imitation,

but to

its

imitation of ugly,

So long as it restrained itself to sculpture The balcony, on the oppoof animals and flowers, it remained noble. site page, from a house in the Campo St. Benedetto at Venice, showa one of the earliest occurrences of the cinque cento arabesque, and a

i.

e.

unnatural things.

fragment of the pattern arresting

upon the stone

is

given in Plate XII.

woi'k of a

fig. 8.

stem or two of the

It is

but the

living flowers,

which are rarely wanting in the window above (and which, by the by, the French and Italian peasantry often trellis with exquisite taste about their casements).

This arabesque, reliev^ed

from the white stone by the stain of time,

is

<'.s

it is

su: ely

in darkness

both beautiful


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. and pure forms

moment

and

;

long ac the renaissance ornament remained in such

as

may

it

113

be beheld

But

undeserved admiration.

^\'ith

that unnatural objects were associated with these,

the

and armor, and curled

and musical instruments, and wild meaningless scrolls and other such fancies, became principal in its subjects, its doom was sealed, and with it that of the architecture of the world. XXXV. III. Our final inquiry was to be into the use of color as shields,

associated with architectural ornament.

do not

I

able to speak with any confidence respecting the

feel

touching of sculjpture with sculpture

I

color.

would only note one

point, that

the representation of an idea, while architecture

is

is itself

The idea may, as I think, be left colorless, and colored by the beholder's mind but a reality ought to have reality in all its a real thing.

:

attributes

color should be as fixed as

its

:

consider

fore,

its

form.

any wise

in

as

architecture

I cannot, there-

perfect without color.

Farther, as I have above noticed, I think the colors of architecture

should be those of natural stones

more

also because

and

and deadness of tones

ness

management and tion we must not If Tintoret or

we

perfect

will alter

vants

;

workman

calculate in laying

down

;

rules for general practice.

Giorgione are at hand, and ask us for a wall to paint,

our whole design for their sake, and become their

only

as architects, expect the aid of the

and the laying of

;

color

ser-

common

by a mechanical hand, and otFensi\'e

than rudeness

The latter is imperfection only the former At the best, such color is so inferior to the discordance.

in cutting the stone.

deadness or

durable, but

upon stone or on gesso, needs the and on this co-opera-

laid

toning under a vulgar eye, are far more

its

more

For to conquer the harsh-

discretion of a true painter

we must,

but

partly because

;

graceful.

;

fice

and mellow hues of the natural stone, that it is mse to sacrisome of the intricacy of design, if by so doing we may employ

tlie

nobler material.

lovely

we

respecting form, color,

we

shall,

And

if,

as

we looked

to

Nature

look to her also to learn the

for instruction

management

perhaps, find that this sacrifice of intricacy

is

of

for other

causes expedient.

XXXV to

I.

Fii*st,

then, I think that in

making

this reference

we

ara

coupler our building as a kind of organized creature; in coloring

whicli

we must look

to the single

and separately organized creatures

of Nature, not to her land=icape combinations. well composed,

is

one thing, and

is

Our

building,

to be colored a3

if it is

Nature would


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

114 color onvi tiling

groups of

And

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

a shell, a flower, or an animal

;

not as she colors

tilings.

broad conclusion we shall deduce from observance of it never follows form, but is

tlie first

natural color in sucli cases will be, that

arranged on an entirely separate system. tion there

skin

and

its

be between the shape of the spots on an animaFs anatomical system, I do not know, nor even if such, a

connection has in any wise been traced are entirely sej^arate,

The

variable.

or limbs,

AVliat mysterious connec-

may

and

in

many

but to the eye the systems

do not follow the

stripes of a zebra

still less

:

cases that of color

the spots of a leopard.

is

accidentally

lines of its

body

In the plumage of birds,

each feather bears a part of the pattern which

arbitrarily carried

is

over the body, having indeed certain graceful harmonies with the form, diminishing or enlarging in directions which sometimes follow,

but also not unfrequently oppose, the directions of

Whatever harmonies there may

its

muscular

lines

be, are distinctly like those of

two

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; never

dis-

separate musical parts, coinciding here and there only

hold

cordant, but essentially different.

I

principle of architectural color.

Let

it

this,

then, for the

first

great

be visibly independent of

Never paint a column with vertical lines, but always cross Never gi\'e separate mouldings separate colors (I know this is it.'^ heresy, but I never shrink from any conclusions, however contrary to human authority, to which I am led by observance of natural principles) and in sculptured ornaments I do not paint the leaves or figures (I cannot help the Elgin frieze) of one color and their ground of another, but vary both the ground and the figures with the same form.

;

Notice how Nature does it in a variegated flower not one leaf red and another white, but a point of red and a zone of In certain places yon may white, or whatever it may be, to each.

harmony.

;

run your two systems closer, and here and there let them be parallel for a note or two, but see that the colors and the forms coincide only the same for an instant, but each as two orders of mouldings do ;

So sinple members may sometimes have as a bird's head is sometimes of one color and its sir o-le colors shoulders another, you may make your capital of one color and your shaft another but in general the best jDlace for color is on broad sur-

holdino'

its

own

course.

:

;

faces,

not on the points of interest in form.

An

animal

is

mottled

on its breast and back, rarely on its paws or about its eyes so put your variegation boldly on the flat wall and broad shaft, but be shy ;


115

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. of

and moulding in all cases it is a safe rule to simand I think it would is rich, and vice vei-sa general to carve all capitals and graceful ornaments ir.

in the capital

It

plify

color

be well in

;

when form

;

white marble, and so leave them.

XXXVII. Independence then being first secured, what kind of hmiting outlines shall we adopt for the system of color itself ? I am quite sure that any person femiliar with natural objects will never be surprised at any appearance of care or finish in them. â&#x20AC;˘

That

is

But

the condition of the universe.

surprise

there

and inquiry whenever we see anything

incompletion

:

that

not a

is

common

condition

cause both for

is

like carelessness or it

;

must be one

appointed for some singular purpose. I believe that such surprise will be forcibly felt by any one who, after studying carefully the lines of some variegated organic form, will set himself to copy with The boundaries of the forms similar diligence those of its colors. he will assuredly, whatever the object, have found drawn with a

and precision which no human hand can follow. Those of he will find in many cases, though governed always by a certain rude symmetry, yet irregular, blotched, imperfect, liable to Look at the tracery of the all kinds of accidents and awkwardnesses. lines on a camp shell, and see how oddly and awkwardly its tents

delicacy its

colors

It is

are pitched.

not indeed always so

:

there

occasionally, as in

is

the eye of the peacock's plume, an apparent precision, but

still

a

precision far inferior to that of the draA\dng of the filaments which and in the plurality of cases a degree of bear that lovely stain ;

looseness

and

violence

in

variation, and,

arrangement,

XXXVIIL Now, why whether the lesson

manner of

the fact

is

and

which would be

color

and of the spots on them.

these circumstances

all

singularly, of harshness

more

admitted in

Observe the difference in the precision of a

monstrous in form. fish's scales

still

is

it

I will

we

should be that color

is

not here endeavor to

are to learn from

delights should never be

certain, that color is

it

be that

combined

always by

Him

best seen under

determine; nor

it is

in

God's will

one thing.

th.it

But

arranged in these

simple or rude forms, and as certain that, therefore, it must be best seen in them, and that we shall never mend by refining its arrangeInfinite nonsense Experience teaches us the same thing. has been written about the union of perfect color with perfect form. They ne\'er will, never can be united. Color, to be perfect, must

ments.


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

116

a simple one

soft outline or

have a

and you

never

will

figure-dramng in

You

it.

Try

perfection of line.

cannot have a refined one

it

:

produce a good painted Avindow with good will lose perfection of color as

and form the

to put in order

you give

colors of a

piece of opal.

XXXIX.

I conclude, then, that all

arrangements of

sake, in graceful forms, are barbarous

own

color pattern with the lovely lines of a

and

;

Greek

color, for its

paint a

that, to

leaf

moulding,

is

an

cannot find anything in natural color I find it in all natm-al formâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;never bond. in the it is not like this If, then, our architectural color is to be beautiful in natural color. utterly savage procedure.

I

:

as

form

its

tions

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

by being

w^as,

imitative,

to simple masses of

it,

we

are limited to these condi-

to zones, as in the rainbow

and the

cloudings and flamings, as in marble shells and plumage, or All these conditions are spots of various shapes and dimensions. zebra

;

and delicacy, and of comThe zone may become a delicate fine, The flaming may be chequers and zig-zags.

susceptible of various degrees of sharpness plication

arrangement.

in

and arrange itself in more or less defined, as on a tulip leaf, and may sented by a triangle of color, and arrange itself shapes

;

formed of

circle.

:

some

soft

and

full,

and melting and rich, perfect and lovely

of flushed

others piquant and sparkling, or deep

;

close groups of the fiery fragments

:

may

be exhibited in the relation of their quantities, but, in all cases, their shape invention in their disposition

proportion infinite

will

or other

be also graduated into a stain, or defined into The most exquisite harmonies may be composed

of these simple elements si)accs of color

be repre-

may

the spot

a square or

at last

in stars

:

be

effective

only as

it

determines their quantity, and regulates

operation on each other; points or edges of one being Triangular and introduced between breadths of others, and so on. barred forms are therefore convenient, or others the simplest pos-

their

sible

and

;

leaving the pleasure of the spectator to be taken in the color, Curved outlines, especially if refined, deaden the

in that only.

color,

and confuse the mind. have either melted

colorists

Even

in figure painting the greatest

their outline

made

away, as often Correggio

masses of ungainly shape, as costume, where they could in hues brightest their yjlaced or Titian get quaint patterns, as Veronese, and especially Angelico, with

and Rubens

;

or purposely

their

;

whom, however,

the absolute virtue of color

is

secondary to grace of


;

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. line.

on the

H?

Ilence, he never uses the blended hues of Corre2;,!^'o, hkc those A\ing' of the httle Cupid, in the " Venus and Mercury," but

always the severest type

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Any

the peacock plume.

of these

men

would have looked with infinite disgust upon the leafage and scrollwork which form the ground of color in our modern painted windows, and yet all whom I have named were much infected vnth the love

We

of renaissance designs.

must also allow for the freedom of the painiers subject, and looseness of his associated lines; a pattern being severe in a picture, which I believe, therefore, that

it

angular in architectural coloring I have

had occasion

can be invented.

to

be

and thus many

;

over quaint

dispositions

or

which

to reprobate in form, are, in color, the best that

have always,

I

over luxurious upon a building.

is

impossible

is

for instance,

spoken with contempt

of the Tudor style, for this reason, that, ha^^ng surrendered

pretence to spaciousness and breadth,

by an

infinite

number

of lines,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;having

divided

its

all

surfaces

yet sacrifices the only chai-acters

it

which can make lines beautiful sacrifices all the variety and grace which long atoned for the caprice of the Flamboyant, and adopts, for ;

leading feature, an entanglement of cross bars and

its

showing about

as

much

invention or

Yet

tion of the bricklayer's sieve.

color be highly beautiful

;

and

which, in form, are monstrous,

skill

all

verticals,

of design as the reticula-

this ver}^ reticulation

would

in

the heraldry, and other features

may

be delightful as themes of color

long as there are no fluttering or over-twisted

(so

lines in them) and this observe, because, when colored, they take the place of a mere pattern, and the resemblance to nature, which could not be

found in their sculptured forms, tion of other surfaces.

There

Duomo

painting behind the

is

however,

fit

is

coui-se,

name The

found in their piquant variega-

of Verona,

whose bearings are balls of gold and white, with cardinal's hats palace at Venice

is

a beautiful and bright bit of wall

composed of

set in bars of

in alternate

(but one) of tbe

fit

front of the Doge's

all w^hite

;

but the wall surface

rose, the

of

it.

had been completed

In Plate XII.

fig. 2.

first,

the reader will

is

chequers being in no

wise harmonized, or fitted to the forms of the windows the surface

?)

of

apphcation of color to public buildings.

chequered with marble blocks of pale

if

is

the purest and most chaste model that I can

sculpture and mouldings are

as

This

squares.

The

only for domestic w'ork.

coats of arms,

green (altered blue

;

but looking

and the windows cut out see two of the patterns


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

118

used in gi'een and white, on the cohimns of San Michele of Lucca Both are beautiful, but the every column haWng a different design. \

upper one certainly the

Yet

best.

would have

in sculpture its lines

been perfectly barbarous, and those even of the lower not enough refined.

XL.

Restraining ourselves, therefore, to the use of such simple

patterns, so far forth as

our color

tectural structure, or sculptm'al form,

subordinate either to archi-

is

means

of ornamentation to add to our general design, the intermediate condition

The

yet one more manner

we have

of

effect,

monochrome

between coloring and carving.

may

system of architectural decoration

relations of the enthe

then be thus expressed.

1.

True, independent sculpture, and alto-

Organic form dominant. relievo

rich

;

and mouldings

capitals,

to

;

be elaborate in

completion of form, not abstract, and either to be

left in

pure

white marble, or most cautiously touched with color in points

and borders 2.

only, in a system not concurrent with their forms.

Organic form sub-dominant.

more

To be

Basso-relievo or intagho.

abstract in proportion to the reduction of depth

;

to be

more rigid and simple in contour to be touched with color more boldly and in an increased degree, exactly in proj)ortion to the reduced depth and fulness of form, but still in a also

;

system non-concurrent with their forms. 3.

Organic form abstracted to outhne.

Monochrom

farther reduced to simj)hcity of contour,

ting for the outlines

;

that

first is

time the

to say, as

its

and

desigTi, still

therefore admit-

color

to be

name

impoiis, the enthe figure to

concurrent \vith

its

be detached in one color from a ground of another. 4.

Organic forms entirely

lost.

Geometrical patterns or variable

cloudings in the most \d\dd color.

On

the opposite side of this

scale,

ascending fi-om the

color

would place the various forms of painting which may be associated with architectiue primarily, and as most fit for such purpose, the mosaic, highly abstract in treatment, and introducing pattern, I

:

brilliant color in

masses

;

the

Madonna

of Torcello being, as I think,

the noblest type of the manner, and the Baptistery of richest

;

next, the pui-ely decorative

fresco,

Parma

the

hke that of the Ai'ena


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. Chapel

finally,

;

But

Sistine.

the fresco becoming principal, as in the Vatican and cannot, with any safety, follow the principles of

I

abstraction in this pictorial it

me

appear to

archaic

ing,

owe

to

manner; and

simplicity

ornament

since tlie noblest examples of

;

their architectural

applicability to their

think that the abstraction and admirable

I

which render them

cannot be

fit media of the most splendid by a voluntaiy condescension.

recovered

Byzantines themselves would not, I think, the figure better, have used

it

among

cannot be included

which are now legitimate or even

management

color-

The

they could have dra\\Ti

if

and that use, however noble and full of

for a color decoration

as pecuhar to a condition of childhood,

promise,

119

modes of adornment

those

There

possible.

;

is

a

difficulty in

window for the same reason, which has not yet been met, and we must conquer that first, before we can venture to consider the wall as ^ painted window on a large scale. the

Pictorial

of the painted

subject,

principal,

oi',

without such abstraction,

becomes

necessarily

at all events, ceases to be the architect's concern

plan must be

left

to

the

painter

the

after

building, as in the works of Veronese

;

its

completion of the

and Giorgione on the palaces

of Venice.

XLI. Pure

architectural decoration, then,

above specified

limited to the four kinds

almost imperceptibly into the other.

monochrom

in

It

in Plate VI.,

contains

be considered as

Thus, the Elgin

glides

frieze

is

a

a state of transition to sculpture, retaining, as I think,

Of pure monochrom,

the half-cast skin too long.

example

may

of which each

;

from the noble front of

forty such arches, all

St.

I

have given an

Michele of Lucca.

covered with equally elaborate

ornamento, entirely drawn by cutting out their ground to about the

depth of an inch in the

flat

with pieces of green serpentine requiring excessive care

white marble, and ;

a most elaborate

filling

mode

the spaces

of sculptm*e,

and precision in the fitting of the edges, and same hne needing to be cut both in the The excessive simplicity of the forms will

of course double work, the

marble and serpentine. be at once perceived

;

the eyes of the figures of animals, for instance,

being indicated only by a round dot, formed by a of serpentine, about half an inch over

admit often

much

in

many

but,

little

inlet circle

though simple, they

grace of curvature, as in the neck of the bird

seen above the right hand

Mien out

:

pillar.'*

The

j;

places, giving the blads

ieces of serpentine

have

shadows, as seen under


;

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

120 the lioi-seman's

round the

arm and

arch, once

my

and some

bird's neck,

filled

with

in

the semi-circular line

pattern.

It

would have

have restored the lost portions, but I it is, hating restoration of any kind as exactly thing draw a always and I would especially direct the reader's attention to the compleillustrated

jDoint better to

forms in the sculptured ornament of the marble cornices, to the abstraction of the monochrom figures, of the ball opposed as and cross patterns between the arches, and of the triangular ornation of the

ment round the arch on the left. XLII. I have an intense love for these monochrom figures, ovawg to their wonderful hfe and spirit in all the works on which I have found them abstraction

nevertheless, I believe that the

;

which they uxiply

excessive degree

necessitates our placing

them

of

in the

art, and that a perfect building sculpture (organic form highest the of composed should rather be dominant and sub-dominant), associated with pattern colors on the

rank of a progressive or imperfect

or broad surfaces.

fiat

which

Pisa,

is

And we

find, in fact, that

the cathedral of

a higher type than that of Lucca, exactly follows this

condition, the color being put in geometrical patterns

on

its surftices,

and animal forms and lovely leafage used in the sculptured cornices and pillars. And I think that the grace of the carved forms is best seen

when

while the it

is

it

is

thus boldly opposed to severe traceries of color, is, as we have seen, always most piquant when

color itself

put into sharp angular arrangements.

approved and set advantage in

its

off

by the

color,

and the

Thus the

sculptui-e

is

color seen to the best

opposition both to the whiteness

and the grace of

the carved marble.

XLIII. In the course of this and the preceding chaptei-s, I have separately enumerated most of the conditions of Power and Beauty, which in the outset I stated to be the grounds of the

now

human

deepest impressions with which architecture could affect the

but I would ask permission to recapitulate them in order to see if there be any building which I may offer as an example of the Glancing back, unison, in such manner as is possible, of them all.

mind

;

then, to the beginning of the third chapter,

place the conditions sections,

we

shall

Considerable (ยง 6).

and introducing in their two previous

incidentally determined in the

have the following hst of noble characters exhibited by simple terminal hues (Chap. :

size,

Projection towards the top (ยง 7).

Breadth of

III.

flat suifac*)


121

THE LAMP OF BEAUTY. Square compartments of that

(§ 8).

sui-foce

Varied and

(§ 9).

Vigorous depth of shadow (§ 13), exliibited mjisonry (§ 11). Varied proportion in ascent especially by pierced traceries (§ 18). ^•isible

symmetry

Lateral

(Chap. IV. § 28).

delicate at the base (Chap.

ment

I.

28).

most

Sculpture

Enriched quantity of orna-

§ 12).

Sculpture abstract in inferior ornaments

at the top (§ 13).

and mouldings (Chap. IV. § 31), complete in animal forms (§ 33). Both to be executed in white marble (§ 40). Vivid color introduced in flat geometrical patterns (§ 39), and obtained by the use of naturally colored stone (§ 35).

These characteristics occur more or

some

in

one and some

in

less

But

in another.

different buildings,

together,

all

and

their

all in

highest possible relative degrees, they exist, as far as I know, only in

one building in the world, the Campanile of Giotto at Florence. of the tracery of its upper story, which heads this

The drawing

chapter, rude as

will nevertheless give the reader

it is,

some

better

conception of that tower's magnificence than the thin outhnes in

which

usually poilrayed.

it is

eye there

In

first

its

something unpleasing

is

;

But

of over severity with over minuteness.

he should

when a

to all

consummate

other

appeal to the stranger's

a mingling, as

I

art.

it

seems to

him give remember

let

boy, I used to despise that Campanile, and think

smooth and

But

finished.

I

have since Uved beside

it

it

liim,

time, as

how, meanly

well it

many

a day,

my Avindows

by sunlight and moonlight, forget how profound and gloomy appeared to me the savageness of the Northern Gothic, when I afterwards stood, The contrast is for the first tim.e, beneath the front of Salisbury.

and looked out upon and I shall not soon

it

from

if it could be quickly felt, between the rising of those grey walls out of their quiet swarded space, like dark and barren rocks out of a green lake, vnth then- rude, mouldering, rough-grained

indeed strange,

shafts,

and

triple lights,

without tracery or other ornament than the

martins' nests in the height of them, surflice

and that

of glowing jasper, those spiral shafts

white, so

fiiint,

in darkness

mountain sea shell.

bright, smooth,

and

sunny

fliiry traceries,

so

so ciystalline, that their shght shapes are hardly traced

on the

pjtllor

of the Eastern sky, that serene height of

morning cloud, and chased like a it, the model and mirror of there not something to be learned by looking

alabaster, colored like a

And

if this

perfect arcliitecture,

back to the eariy

is

life

of

be, as I believe

him who

raised

6

it

?

I said that the

Power


THE LAMP OF BEAUTY.

122 of

human mind had

its

growtli in the Wilderness

;

much more must

the love and the conception of that beauty, whose every line and hue we have seen to be, at the best, a feded image of God's daily

work, and an arrested ray of some star of creation, be given chiefly in the places which He has gladdened by planting there the fir tree far

and the

away

Not

pine.

fields of

that headstone of

Remember

all

among the who was to raise

within the walls of Florence, but

her hhes, was the child trained

Beauty above the towers of watch and war.

that he became; count the sacred thoughts %\ith

ask those who followed him what and when you have numbered his labors, and received their testimony, if it seem to you that God had verily poured out upon this His servant no common nor restrained portion of His Spirit, and that he was indeed a king among the children of men, remember also that the legend upon his crown wa<' that of

which he

filled

the heart of Italy

they learned at his feet

Da^dd's sheep."

:

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

;

" I took thee from the sheepcote,

and from

follow

mg

the


CHAPTER THE LAMP OF I.

Among

the

none are more

LIFE.

analogies

countless

human

relations of the

V.

by

the

wliieli

nature and

soul are illustrated in the material creation,

striking than the impressions inseparably connected

with the active and dormant statâ&#x201A;Źs of matter.

have elsewhere

I

endeavored to show, that no inconsiderable part of the

essential

Beauty depended on the expression of vital energy in organic tilings, or on the subjection to such energy, of things naturally passive and powerles^. I need not here repeat, of what was then advanced, more than the statement which I beheve will meet with general acceptance, that things in other respects alike, as characters of

outward forms, are noble or ignoble in life which either they themselves

in their substance, or uses, or

proportion to the fulness of the enjoy, or of

made

And

whose action they bear the e\idence, as sea sands are by their bearing the seal of the motion of the waters. especially true of all objects which bear upon them the

beautiful

this is

impress of the highest order of creative

hfe, that is

to say, of the

mind of man they become noble or ignoble in proportion to the amount of the energy of that mind wliich has visibly been employed upon them. But most peculiarly and imperatively does the rule :

which being and being not essentially

hold with respect to the creations of Architecture, properly capable of no other

life

composed of things pleasant sounds, or painting of for their dignity vi\'id

fair

than

this,

themselves,

in

colors,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

as

music of sweet

but of inert substance,

and pleasurableness

in the

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;depend,

utmost degree, upon the

expression of the intellectual hfe which has been concerned in

their production.

n.

Now

in all other kind of energies except that of man's mind,

no question as to what is life, and what is not. Vital sensibihty, whether vegetable or animal, may, indeed, be reduced to

there

is

so great feebleness, as to render

its

existence a matter of question,


THE LAMP OF

124 but

when

it is

evident at

nor galvanism can take

its

human

occur which the

without for an instant

animates

thing's it

nor

;

is

;

any resemblance of

it

so

judgment; although

the real nature of the dead its

own

excessive

into waves,

and

voices into rocks.

but rejoicing rather in

and joy

But when we begin

no mistak-

no mechanisna

imagination takes pleasure in exalting,

losino; sio-ht of

puts gesture into clouds, III.

place

tliere is

:

for the life itself;

it

as to involve even hesitation in the

striking

many

evident as sucli

all, it is

ing any imitation or pretence of

LIFE.

life,

wliich

to be concerned with the energies of

man, we find ourselves instantly dealing with a double creature. Most part of his being seems to have a fictitious counterpart, which Thus he has a true it is at his peril if he do not cast off and deny.

and

false

unfeigned)

a

(otherwise called faith.

false charity,

He

and dead,

living

has a true and a

false

and, finally, a true and a false hfe.

a feigned or

or

hope, a true and a

His true

life is like

by which he

that of lower organic beings, the independent force

moulds and governs external things it is a force of assimilation which converts everything around him into food, or into instruments and which, however humbly or obediently it may hsten to or follow ;

;

the guidance of superior mtelligence, never forfeits ss a

judging principle, as a

His false hfe but

it acts,

easily

is,

^vill

its

own

authority

capable either of obeying or rebelling.

indeed, but one of the conditions of death or stupor,

even when

it

cannot be said to animate, and

know^n fi-om the true.

It is that life of

is

not always

custom and accident

which many of us pass much of our time in the world that life which we do what we have not purposed, and speak what we do not mean, and assent to what we do not understand that life which is overlaid by the weight of things external to it, and is moidded by them, mstead of assimilating them that, which instead of growing in

;

in

;

;

and blossoming under any wholesome dew, is crystallised over -with it, as with hoar frost, and becomes to the true life what an fjrborescence is to a tree, a candied agglomeration of thoughts and habits foreign to it, brittle, obstinate, and icy, which can neither bend nor grow, but must be crushed and broken to

way. 3ort

;

only,

All all if

men

are partly

they have real

stand in our

;

life

in

bark away in noble rents, until tlie

bits, if it

some degree fi'ost-bitten in this encumbered and crusted over with idle matter

are liable to be in

them, they are always breaking it

becomes, like the black

birch tree, only a ^vitness of their

own inward

strips

strength..

this

upon

But


;;

THE LAMP OF

125

LIFE.

men make,

witli all tlie efforts tliat tlie best

mucli of

beins

tlieii

and play their parts sufficiently, to the eyes of their fellow-dreamers, but have no clear consciousness of what is around them, or within them I would not press blind to the one, insensible to the other, vwJpoj. passes in a kind of dream, in whicli tliey indeed move,

the definition into ear

its

darker application to the dull heart and heavy

have to do vnth

I

;

it

only as

of natural existence, whether

commonly upon them nation

is

refers to the too frequent condition

tumbhng

or

individuals,

usually, like the flow of a lava stream,

over and over of

its

a sad one to look upon.

and

in the arts,

first

of a

life

bright and

advancing only by the

last

And

frozen blocks.

that last condition

All the steps are marked most clearly

in Architecture

especially dependent, as

settling

The

proportion to their age.

in

then languid and covered, at

fierce,

is

it

of nations

more than

we have

any other

in

just said,

;

for

it,

being

on the warmth of the

life, is also peculiarly sensible of the hemlock cold of the false and I do not know anything more oppressive, when the mind is once awakened to its characteristics, than the aspect of a dead architecture. The feebleness of cliildhood is full of promise and of interest, the struggle of imperfect knowledge full of energy and continuity, but to see impotence and rigidity settling upon the form of the developed man to see the ty2:)es which once had the die of thought struck to see the shell of the fresh upon them, worn flat by over use -living creature in its adult form, when its colors are faded, and its this inhabitant perished, is a sight more humiliating, more melancholy, than the vanishing of all knowledge, and the return to confessed and helpless infancy.

true

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Nay,

it is

to be wished that such

would be hope

Tliere

if

return were always possible.

we could change

palsy into puerility

;

but

I

know not how far we can become children again, and renew our lost life. The stirring which has taken place in our architectural aims and interests within these few years, is thought by many to be full of promise tell

:

whether

bones

;

and

I

but

has a sickly look to me.

I

cannot

be indeed a spiinging of seed or a shaking

among

I trust it

it is,

it

do not think the time

reader to spend in the inquiry, ascertained or conjectured

how

to be

will far

the

be

all

lost

that

which

I ask the

we have

best in principle,

hitherto

may

be

formally practised -vdthout the sphit or the vitahty Vvnich alone could give

it

influence, value, or dehghtfulness.


THE LAMP OF

126 IV. Now, in the point

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

place

first

but only

imitates

without choice.

developed

if

it

The

of a

art

great

borrows or

it

or

interest,

nation,

if

which

it

is

any acquaintance with nobler examples than its most consistent and

-s^dthout

early efforts furnish, exhibits always the

comprehensible growth, and perhaps liarly

an important

rather

is

tliis

in a present art that

borrows mthout paying

imitates,

OA\Ti

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;and

no sign of deadness

it is

LIFE.

venerable in

its

regarded usually as pecu-

is

But

self-origination.

there

is

my

something to

majestic yet in the hfe of an architecture like that of the

mind more

Lombards, rude and infantine in itself, and surrounded by fi-agments of a nobler art of which it is quick in admiration and ready in imitation, and vet so stronec in its own new instincts that it re-constructs and re-arranges every fragment that

with

its

own

thoughts,

it

copies or borrows into

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;a harmony

at

fii-st

disjointed

harmony

and awkward,

but completed in the end, and fused into perfect organisation all the borrowed elements being subordinated to its own primal, ;

unchanged,

I

hio.

do not know any sensation more exquisite than

the discovering of the e\idence of this magnificent struggle into

independent existence

;

the detection of the borrowed thoughts, nay,

and

the findino- of the actual blocks

by other hands

stones carved

and in other ages, wrought into the new walls, with a new expression and purpose given to them, like the blocks of unsubdued rocks (to go back to our former simile) which we find in the heart of the lava current, great witnesses to the power which has fused all but those calcined fragments into the mass of its homogeneous fire. V. It will be asked, How is imitation to be rendered healthy and Unhappily, while it is easy to enumerate the signs of hfe, it ^ita. ? and while every is impossible to define or to communicate life ;

intellio-ent writer

on Art has

insisted

on the

between the

difierence

copying foimd in an advancing or recedent period, none have been able to communicate, in the slightest degree, the force of ^itahty to

the copnst over

whom

characters of vital imitation are,

Frankness

is

especially singular

the degTce of the som-ces of

;

its

Frankness and

there

it is

at lea^fc

that two very distinguishing

is

its

never any

Audacity

;

its

effort to conceal

Raffaelle carries off a borrowing. borrows an entire composition from

its

whole figure fi'om

ISIasaccio, or

Perugino, with as

much

young Spartan

Yet

they might have influence.

interesting, if not profitable, to note

tranquilhty and simplicity of innocence as a

pickpc-:'i3t

;

and the

architect of

a

Romanesque


;

THE LAMP OF basilica gatliered

liis

up

as an ant picks

columns and There

sticks.

LIFE.

capitals

127

where he could

find them,

at least a presumption,

is

find this fi-ank acceptance, that there

is

when wq

a sense within the mind of

power capable of transfomiing and renewing whatever it adopts and too conscious, too exalted, to fear the accusation of plagiarism, too certain that it can prove, and has proved, its independence, to be afraid of expressing its homage to what it admires in the most open and indubitable way and the necessary consequence of this sense of power is the other sign I have named ^the Audacity of

;

treatment

when

sweeping

sacrifice

For

venient.

of

treatment necessary, the unhesitating and

finds

it

precedent where precedent becomes incon-

instance,

in

the

forms

characteristic

of

Italian

Romanesque, in which the hypaethral portion of the heathen temple was replaced by the towering nave, and where, in consequence, the pediment of the west front became divided into three portions, of which the central one, like the apex of a ridge of sloping strata

by a sudden

lifted

wings

;

fault,

was broken away from and

raised above the

there remained at the extremities of the aisles

now be

fragments of pediment, which could not

two triangular by any of

filled

the modes of decoration adapted for the unbroken space

and the became greater, when the central portion of the fi'ont was occupied by columnar ranges, which could not, without painful ;

difficulty

abruptness, terminate short of the extremities of the wings.

not what expedient would have been adopted by architects

much

I know who had

respect for precedent, under such circumstances, but it certainly would not have been that of the Pisan, to continue the range of columns into the pedimental space, shortening them to its extremity

until the shaft

remained only raise

no quastion

other-wise

a

of the last its

;

at present

I allege

parallel, casting

column vanished

altogether,

it

whether

this

only as an instance of boldness almost without

aside every received principle

that stood in

way, and struggling through every discordance and fulfilment of

its

and there

on its basic plinth. I arrangement be graceful or

capital resting in the angle

own

instincts.

VI. Frankness, however,

is

in itself

when

no excuse

for repetition,

for innovation,

unwise.

Nobler and surer signs of vitahty must be sought,

the one

is

independent alike of the decorative or original character of the in eveiy style that

is

nor

indolent and the other

Audacity

and constant

its

difficulty to the

determuiedly progTessi

e.

signs

style,


THE LAMP OF

128

LIFE.

Of these, one of tlie most important I believe to be a certain neglect or contempt of refinement in execution, or, at all events, a involunvisible subordination of execution to conception, commonly but not unfrequently intentional.

tary,

which, while I speak confidently, I

and

carefully, as there

Tliis is

a point, however, on

at the

same time reservedly

must

would otherwise be much chance of

dangerously misunderstood.

It

my being

has been truly observed and well

by Lord Lindsay, that the bast designers of Italy were also the most careful in their workmanship and that the stability and finish of then- masonry, mosaic, or other w^ork whatsoever, were stated

;

ahvays perfect in proportion to the apparent improbability of the gTeat designers condescending to the care of details among us so

Not only do

despised.

important

foct,

I

but I w^ould

much

upon

as

it

re-assert

all

most

delicate

the highest schools

those of painting.

is

this

and most

perfect

a characteristic of

finish in its right place, as

of architecture, as

admit and

fully insist

But on the

other hand, as perfect finish belongs to the perfected art, a progi'esand I do not think that any sive finish belongs to progressive art ;

more

sig-n

fatal

of

a

stupor

art could possibly

undeveloped

or

upon that had been and that the workmanship had numbness

settling

be detected, than that

it

taken ahack by its own execution, gone ahead of the design while, even in my admission of absolute finish in the right place, as an attribute of the perfected school, I ;

must reserve to myself the right of answering in my own w\ay the two very important questions, what h finish ? and what i8. its right place

?

But

VII.

in illustrating either of these points,

we must remember

that the con-espondence of workmanship with thought is, in existent examples, interfered with by the adoption of the designs of an

advanced period by the workmen of a rude one.

All the beginnings

and the necessary of consequence is of course an increase of the visible intei*val between We have at tlie power of realisation and the beauty of the idea. Christian

fii-st

arclntecture

an imitation,

design

;

are

of

almost savage

in

as the art advances, the design

Gothic grotesqueness, a hai-mony

is

and

is

rudeness, of a classical

its is

modified by a mixture of

execution

more

complete, until

established between the two, in which balance they

advance to new perfection. the gi-ound

the

kind,

this

Now

duiing the whole period in which

being recovered, there will be found in the living


:

THE LAMP OF

129

LIFE.

marks not to be mLstaken, of intense impatience a towards somethino- iinattained, whicli causes all minor points

architeijii^ie strii"-"-le

;

of handling to be neglected

and a

;

restless disdain

of

all

(qualities

which appear either to confess contentment or to requhe a time and And, exactly as a good and care which might be better spent. of drawing will not lose time in ruling lines or backoTounds about studies which, while they have answered

earnest student iinishin'T

his

immediate purpose, he knows

what he

will

architecture,

do

hereafter,

which

example or which

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

in a state of rapid developement, is very

among

curiously traceable,

working under the influence of high

either

is

is itself

be impertect and inferior to

to

so the \igor of a true school of early

XIL

VIII. In Plate

the contempt of exact

other signs, in

symmetiy and measurement, which most painful necessities. I

fig. 1.

in

dead architecture are the

have given a most singular instance

both of rude execution and defied symmetiy, in the little pillar and spandril from a pannel decoration under the pulpit of St. Mark's at

The imperfection

Venice. ness

and

(not merely simplicity, but actual rude-

this is o-eneral in

will strike the eye at

ornament

ugliness) of the leaf

works of the time, but

it is

not so

common

once

to find

a capital which has been so carelessly cut its imperfect volutes being pushed up one side for higher than on the other, and con;

tracted on that side, an additional drill hole being put in to

space it

;

besides this, the

follows the arch,

member

and a

the other at the angle

flat fillet

and

6,

of the mouldings,

a,

is

a

fill

the

where

roll

at a ; the one being slurred into

finally

stopped short altogether at the

other side by the most uncourteoas and remorseless interference of the outer moulding and in spite of all this, the grace, proportion, :

and

feeling

place, in the

of

the

whole arrangement are so great, that, in its all the science and symmetry

leaves nothing to be deshed

it

world could not beat

it.

some idea of the execution

In

;

fig. 4. I

have endeavored

to give

of the subordinate portions of a

much

by Nicolo Pisano. gTcat care and It ^= covered with figure sculptures, executed with arch mouldsimple the to came sculptor dehca. y but when the ings, he did not choose to draw the eye to them by over precision The section adopted, Jc, m, is of work or over sharpness of shadow. in its recessions as never obtuse slight and peculiariy simple, and so and it is worked with what at fii-st appears to produce a sharp line 6*

higher work, the pulpit of

;

;

St.

Andrea

at Pistoja,


â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

THE ^AMP OF

130 slovenliness,

but

is

LIFE.

in fact sculptural sketching ; exactly correspond-

ent to a painter's light execution of a background

and disappear

the lines appear

;

again, are sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, some-

times quite broken off; and the recession of the cusp joins that of the external arch at ^^, in the most fearless defiance of all mathema-

laws of curv^lLnear contact.

tical

IX. There the

mind

is

something very delightful in

of the gi'eat master.

I

I tliink that impatience is

work" of patience, but in an advancing school; and

bold expression of

this

do not say that

I love

is

the " perfect

Romanesque and

the

Gothic especially, because they afford so

it

a glorious character

much room

for it

early acci-

;

dental carelessness of measurement or of execution being mingled

undistinguishably with the purposed departures from symmetrical regularity,

and the luxuriousness of perpetually

are eminently characteristic of both styles.

they

are,

and how brightly the

variable fancy,

How

great,

how

which

frequent

of architectural law

severity

is

reheved by their grace and suddenness, has not, I think, been enough observed still less, the unequal measurements of even important I am not so famifeatures professing to be absolutely spnmetrical. ;

with modern practice as to speak with confidence respecting its but I imagine that the following measures of the

liar

ordinary precision

;

western front of the cathedral of Pisa, would be looked upon by That front is present arcliitects as yery blundering approximations. divided into seven arched compartments, of which the second, fourth and sixth contain doors the seven are in a most subtle

or central,

;

alternating proportion

second and

By

this

sixth,

;

the central being the largest, next to

then the

first

and seventh,

lastly the tliu*d

arrangement, of course, these three

paii*s

it

and

the

fifth.

should be equal

but I found their actual measures to be the 'bllowing, taken fi'om pillar to pillar, in Itahan braccia, palmi (fom'

and they are so

to the eye,

inches each), and inches

:

ccia.

1.

Central door

2.

Northern door Southern door

3. 4. 5.

6. 7.

Extreme northern space Extreme southern space Northern intervals between the doors Southern intervals between the doors

)

S


:

THE LAMP OF Tliere inclies

13

LIFE.

thus a difference, severally, between

is

and a

lialf in

and

2, 3

4, 5, of five

the one case, and five inches in the other.

X. This, however, may perhaps be partly attributable to some accommodation of the accidental distortions which evidently took place in the walls of the cathedral during- their building, as

To

in those of the campanile. fer

the most wonderful of the two

pillar of its

walls

falls to different it

my

mind, those of the

:

I

absolutely vertical

is

heights, or rather the

much

Duomo

as

are

do not believe that a single the pavement rises and :

phnth of the walls sinks into

continually to different depths, the whole west front literally over-

hangs

(I

have not plumbed

the eye, by bringing

it

it

may

but the inclination

;

be seen bj

into visual contact with the upright pilasters

and a most extraordinary distortion in the tlie Campo Santo) masomy of the southern wall shows that this inclination had begun

of

:

when

the

fii'st

story

was

built.

The

cornice above the

of that wall touches the tops of eleven out of it

its fifteen

suddenly leaves the tops of the four westernmost

;

first

arcade

arches

;

but

the arches nod-

ding westward and sinking into the ground, while the cornice rises (or seems to rise), lea\ing at any rate, whether by the rise of the one fall of the other, an and the top of the western

or the

interval of

arch, filled

more than two feet between it by added courses of masonry.

is another very curious evidence of this struggle of the arcliiwith his yielding wall in the columns of the main entrance.

There tect

(These notices are perhaps somewhat irrelevant to our immediate subject,

but they appear to

me

events, prove one of the points

of imperfection

highly interesting

on which

I

would

and variety in things professing

the eyes of those eager builders could endure liness in detail, to

:

;

and they,

insist,

at

all

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;^how much

to be symmetrical

they looked to love-

nobihty in the whole, never to petty measure-

Those colunms of the principal entrance are among the cylindrical, and decorated with a rich arabesque loveliest in Italy of sculptured foliage, which at the base extends nearly all round

ments.)

;

them, up to the black pilaster in which they are lightly engaged but the shield of foliage, bounded by a severe line, narrows to their tops,

where

it

covers their frontal segment only

laterally seen, a terminal

;

thus

g*iving,

wdien

hue sloping boldly outwards, which, as

I

was meant to conceal the accidental leaning of the western walls, and, by its exaggerated inchnation in the same direction, to throw them by compaiison into a seeming vertical.

tliink,


;

THE LAMP OF

132 XI. There

anotlier very curious instance of distortion

is

central door of the west front.

arches are

LIFE.

with black marble, each containing in

filled

white parallelogram

filled

above th<

All the intervals between the seven centre a

its

with animal mosaics, and the whole sur-

mounted by a broad white band, which, generally, does not touch But the parallelogTam on the north of the central arch has been forced into an oblique position, and touches and, as if the architect was determined to show the white band that he did not care whether it did or not, the white band suddenly gets thicker at that place, and remains so over the two next arches. And these differences are the more curious because the workmanship of them all is most finished and masterly, and the distorted stones

the parallelogram below.

;

are fitted with as

much

neatness as

if

they talhed to a ban's breadth.

no look of slurring or blundering about it it is all coolly filled in, as if the builder had no sense of anything being wrong or extraordinary I only ^\ish we had a httle of his impudence. There

is

;

:

XII.

Still,

the reader \n\\ say that

all

these variations are probably

dependent more on the bad foundation than on the

architect's feeling.

and

so the exquisite delicacies of change in the proportions

jS'ot

dimensions of the apparently symmetrical arcades of the west

fi'ont.

be remembered that I said the tower of Pisa was the only

It will

ugly tower in

Italy,

height

this,

;

a foult

time, that

it

because

its

tiers

were equal, or nearly

so, in

so contrary to the spirit of the builders of the

can be considered only as an unlucky caprice.

Perhaps

may

then have

the general aspect of the west

fi-ont

of the cathedral

occurred to the reader's mind, as seemingly another contradiction of the rule I had advanced.

had

its

It

would not have been

four upper arcades been actually equal

;

so,

however, even

as they are subor-

dinated to the great seven-arched lower story, in the manner before noticed respecting the spire of Salisbury, in the is

Duomo

of

Lucca and Tower of

and

as

is

actually the case

But the Pisan

Pistoja.

front

more subtly proportioned. Not one of its four arcades is of The highest is the third, counting upwards height with another.

far

like

and they diminish

in nearly arithmetical proportion alternately

the order 3rd,

2nd, 4th.

1st,

not less remarkable there

is

:

they at

The inequahties first

strike the

in

eye as

all

equal

a grace about them which equality never obtained

observation,

it is

perceived that in the

first

;

in

then arches are

:

on

row of nineteen

eighteen are equal, and the central one larger than the rest

;

but

closer

arches, ;

in thÂŤ


THE LAMP OF

13S

LIFE.

jcal arches stand over the nine below hanng, hke them, the ninth central one larg-est. But on their flanks, where is the slope of the shoulder-like pediment, the archea vanish, and a wedge-shaped frieze takes their place, tapering outwards, in order to allow the columns to be carried to the extremity and here, where the heights of the shafts are so of the pediment five shafts, or rather four and a far shortened, they are set thicker

stcond arcade, the nine cen

;

;

twenty-one inter-

capital, above, to four of the arcade below, giving

instead of nineteen.

vals

remember,

is

the highest,

In

eight arches,

all

equal, are given in the

now

a central shaft instead

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

is

tion to their increased height.

the lowest of

all,

arcade,

third

of a central arch, and the span of the arches

is

which,

or

space of the nine below, so that there

which

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

next

the

is

increased in propor-

Finally, in the uj)permost arcade,

number

the arches, the same in

below, are narrower than any of the facade

as those

the whole eight going

;

very nearly above the six below them, w^iile the terminal arches of

by flanking masses of decorated

the lower arcade are surmounted wall with projecting figures.

XIII. Now^ I in every inch of

call that

with a

necessity,

There

Living Architecture.

and an accommodation

it,

portioning of the building.

and pro\dsions have not space to examine the

I

external shafts

I jDrefer, lest

the reader should tliink

Romanesque work,

in height in bold geometrical part, increase in

arcade, this

and three

it

a peculiar example,

most graceful and grand

number

in arithmetical,

in the third, to

diminishing

of arcade,

stories

proportion, while the

one in the

i.

e.

arches, for the

two

in the second

Lest, however,

first.

arrano-ement should be too formal, of the fourteen arches in the

lowest series, that which contains the door

and

five

on one side and

arcade

is

is

eifjht

terminated by broad

arches

;

is

made

larger than the

not in the middle, but the sixth from the West, lea\nng

rest,

its

lovelier pro-

still

as a fragment, in north Italy, that of

San Giovanni Evangelista at Pistoja. The side of that church has three most

is

the structure

in

of this marvellous

of the apse

to state the structure of another church, the

piece of

sensation

determined variation in arrangement, which

exactly hke the related proportions

of organic form.

is

every architectural

to

but the arcade

on the

other.

flat pilasters,

above

extreme arches at the west end are

is

Farther

continuous

made

:

this

lowest

about half the width of ;

larger than

only the two all

the

rest,


â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

134

THE LAMP OF

and instead of coming,

as they should, into the space cf the lowei

extreme arch, take in both

it

and

;

LIFE.

broad

its

Even

pilaster.

this,

however, was not out of order enough to satisfy the architect's eye so, single one below for there were still two arches above to each might at the east end, where there were more arches, and the eye :

be more

what does he do but narrow the two by half a braccio while he at the same time

cheated,

easily

extreme lower arches

;

upper ones, so as to get only seventeen upper The eye is thus to" nine lower, instead of eighteen to nine. into one mass, thrown building whole the and confused, thoroughly

slightly enlarged the

shafts,

place

not one of which

;

adjustments of the superimposed

variations in the

by the curious

and, to get this

is

either exactly in nor positively out

managed

the

more cunningly,

an inch to an inch and a half of gradual gain four

besides

arches,

eastern

of

is

its

from

the space of the

in

half

confessed

tlie

there

braccio.

measures, countino- n-om the east, I found as follows

Their

:

Braccia.

1st

2nd

-

3rd

4th it looks at is managed on the same principle were three arches to each under pair but there are,

Tlie upper arcade first

as if there

;

;

in reality, only thirty-eight (or thirty-seven, I

am

not quite certain

number) to the twenty-seven below and the columns get Even then, the builder was into all manner of relative positions. not satisfied, but must needs carry the irregularity into the spring of

of this

;

the arches, and actually, while the general effect

of a symmetrical

is

not one of the arches the same in height as another their tops undulate all along the wall hke waves along a harbor quay, some nearly touching the string course above, and others

arcade, there

falling

from

is

as

it

XIV. Let

;

much

as five or six mches.

us next examine the plan of the

Mark's at Venice, which, though in its

proportions,

dream

and

as ever filled

as a piece of rich

human

interest the reader to

and

after

many and

imagination.

west front of

St.

imperfect,

in

respects

is

fantastic color, as lovely a It

may, perhaps, however,

hear one opposite opinion upon this subject

what has been urged

in

the preceding pages respecting


THE LAMP OF

LIFE.

135

proportion in general, more especially respecting

wi'ongness of

tlie

balanced cathedral towei-s and other regular designs, together

my

Mark's,

models of perfection,

as

especially

arrival at Venice,

show

above

projecting

as

may

my

and

praise of

second arcade,

its

Wood

from the journal of

extracts

-svith

Doge's palace, and campanile of

j&-equent references to the

the

the

the

following

written on his

architect,

may

have a pleasing freshness in them, and

that I have not been

St.

former

stating principles altogether trite or

accepted.

The strange looking church, and the gTeat ugly campanile, could The exterior of this church surprises you by iii extreme ughness, more than by anything else." " The Ducal Palace is even more ugly than any thing I have "

not be mistaken.

mentioned.

pre\dously

alteration to

make

it

Considered in

detail,

but

lofty

tolerable

;

back behind the two stories of

if this

little

ai-ches,

it

I

can imagine no

had been set would have been a wall

very noble production." After more observations on " a certain justness of proportion," and on the appearance of riches and power in the church, to which he ascribes a pleasing effect, he goes on " Some persons are of :

opinion that irregularity

is

a necessary part of

decidedly of a contrary opinion, and

am

its

excellence.

am

I

convinced that a reo-ular

design of the same sort w^ould be far superior. Let an oblong of good architecture, but not very showy, conduct to a fine cathedral, which should appear between two lofty towers and have two obelisks in fi'ont, and on each side of this cathedral let other squares partially open into the first, and one of these extend down to a harbor or sea shore, and you would have a scene which might challenge any thing in existence."

Why

Mr.

Wood

was unable to enjoy the color of St. Mark's, or Ducal palace, the reader ^vill see after

perceive the majesty of the

reading the

two

folloA\dng

extracts

regarding

the

Caracci

and

Michael Ano-elo. "

The

pictures here (Bologna) are to

those of Venice, for

if

my

taste

far

preferable to

the Venetian school surpass in coloring, and,

composition, the Bolognese is decidedly superior drawing and expression, and the Caraccis shine here like Gods^

perhaps, in

"

What

is it

that

Some contend

for

is

so

much admired

in this artist

(j\I.

a grandeur of composition in the

in

Angelo) lines

?

and


THE LAMP OF

136

dispc sition of the figures

while I acknowledge the

though

exist in painting,

am

I

do not compreliend yet, and proportions in

I confess, I

tliis,

;

of certain forms

.:<eauty

deny that

I cannot cc.csistently

architecture,

LIFE.

may

merits

similar

imfortunately unable to appreciate

them." these passages veiy valuable, as showing the effect of a

I think

contracted knowledge anc false taste in painting

understanding of his o^vn art

;

and

notions, about

notions, or lack of

For Mr.

sometimes practised.

upon an arcliitect's what curious

especially with

proportion, that art has been

Wood

by no means

is

unintelligent

observations generally, and his criticisms on classical art are

in his

most valuable. But those who love Tjtian better than the and who see something to admire in ^Michael Angelo, will,

often

Caracci,

me

perhaps, be walling to proceed Avith of St.

]!ÂťIark's.

events affords us

Wood

Mr.

although

For,

to a charitable examination

present coui-se of European

the

the changes proposed

some chance of seeing

carried into

fortunate in having

fii-st

may

execution, w^e

known how

was

it

still

left

by

esteem ourselves

by the

builders

of the eleventh century.

XV. The of

entire front

is

-composed of an upper and lower

enclosing spaces of

arches,

wall decorated with

supported on ranges of shafts of which,

m the

lower

series

mosaic, and

series of arches,

an upper range superimposed on a lower. Thus we have i. e. two tiers of shafts, and the veitical di\isions of the facade

there five

is

;

arched wall they bear, below

;

one

tier

of shafts, and the arched wall

In order, however, to bind the two main

they bear above.

di\i-

main entrance) rises above the level of the gallery and balustrade which crown the lateral arches. The proportioning of the columns and walls of the low^er story is so lovely and so varied, that it would need pages of descriptioa sions together, the central lower arch (the

before

thus

".

could be fully understood

it

The height

severally expressed

by

;

shaft a

as heio-ht b

large

is

but

it

may

be generally stated

6,

and

c,

is

then a

:

c

::

c

:

and

being

h is generally to the

diameter of

to heio-ht a, or somethino' less, allowinor for

:

which diminishes the apparent height of the and when this is their proportion of width, one shaft

put abo\e one below, "with sometimes another

interposed

wall,

b (a being the

plinth

upper shaft above

a,

and the diameter of shaft

highest)

the

;

of the lower shafts, upper shafts,

:

ujipei-

shaft

but in the extreme arches a single under shaft bears


THE LAMP OF

LIFE.

as truly as tlie

boughs of a tree tliat is to There being thus the

two upper, proportioned say, the

upper=|

diameter of each

13*?

;

of lower.

three terms of proportion gained in the lower story, the upper, while

only divided into two- main members, in order that the whole may not be divided into an even number, has the third term

it is

heifdi*

So far of the vertical diN-ision. Tlie lateral There are seven arches in the lower story and calling the central arch a, and counting to the extremity, they diminish The upper story has five arches, in the alternate order a, c, b, d. added

in

is still

more

its

pinnacles.

subtle.

;

and these diminish in regular order, the and the outermost the least. Ilence, while one proportion ascends, another descends, like parts in music and yet the iÂťyramidal form is secured for the whole, and, which was and two added pinnacles

;

central beino; the larwst,

;

another great point of attention, none of the shafts of the uppei arches stand over those of the lower. It might have been thought that, by this plan, enough had been secured, but the builder was not satisfied even thus and this is the point bearing on the present part of our subject for always calling the central arch a, and the lateral ones h and c in succession, the northern h and c are considerably wider than the southern b and c, but the southern d is as much wider than the and, more northern f/, and lower beneath its cornice besides

XVI.

variety

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

:

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

than

this, I

members

hardly beheve that one of the effectively symmetrical

of the facade

is

them upon the

spot,

any

actually symmetrical with

regTet that I cannot state the actual measm'es.

owing to

I

other.

I

gave up the taking

their excessive complexity,

and the

embarrassment caused by the yielding and subsidence of the arches. Do not let it be supposed that I imagine the Byzantine workmen I to have had these various principles in their minds as they built. believe they built altogether fron' feehng,

they did so, that there

is

this

and that

marvellous

life,

it

was because and

changefulness,

and that we we should upon some fair growth know not their own beauty.

subtlety running through their every arrangement.;

reason upon the lovely building as of the trees of the earth, that

XVII. Perhaps, however, a stranger instance than any 3^et

given, of the daring variation of pretended

in the front of the witli

doors

Cathedral of Bayeux.

steep pediments, the outermost ;

and they appear,

at

first,

symmetry,

I is

have found

It consists of five arches

filled,

the three central with

to diminish in regular propoiiioQ


THE LAMP OF

138

The two

fi'om the principal oik? in the centre.

The tympana

curiously managed. bas-reliefe, in four tiers

LIFE.

in the lowest tier there is in

;

temple or gate containing the principal figure it is

Hades with by an isolated

the gate of

like a capital,

about § of

its

larger portion

is

lateral doors are very

of their arches are filled \vith

each a

on the

This httle temple

Lucifer).

shaft

(in that

httle right,

carried,

is

which divides the whole arch at

breadth, the larger portion outmost;

the inner entrance door.

and

in that

This exact correspondence,

might lead us to expect a correspondThe small mner northern entrance and inches, 4 ft. 1 in. from jamb to jamb,

in the treatment of both gates,

Not

ence in dimension.

at

measures, in Enghsh feet

and the southern

five feet exactly.

shaft to face shaft, 13 in.

imagine

I

five feet is

a conface

and the southern, 14 ft. 6 in. givuig on 14^ ft. There are also variations in the

ft.

11

pediment decorations not

XVIII.

Five inches in

The outer northern porch measm-es, from

siderable variation.

a difference of V

all.

I

in.,

;

less extraordinary.

have given instances enough, though I could

them mdefinitely, to prove that these variations are not mere blunders, nor carelessnesses, but the result of a fixed scorn, if not dislike, of accuracy in measurements and, in most cases, I believe, of a determined resolution to work out an effective symmetry by variations as subtle as those of Nature. To what lengths this principle w^as sometimes carried, we shall see by the very singular management of the towere of Abbe^dlle. I do not say it is right, still less that it multiply

;

is

wrong, but

it is

a wonderful proof of the fearlessness of a living

we will of it, that Flamboyant of France, however morbid, was as \d\nd and intense in its animation as ever any phase of mortal mind and it would have hved tiU now, if it had not taken to telling lies. I have before noticed the general difficulty of managing even latf ral division, w^hen it is into two architecture

;

for,

say what

;

equal parts, unless there be sonie third reconciling member. give, hereafter,

more examples

of the

effected in towers with double

modes

I shall

in wdiich this reconciliation

hghts the Abbe\ille architect put sword to the knot perhaps rather too sharply. Vexed by the want of unity between his two windows he literally laid then- heads together, and so distorted their ogee curves, as to leave only one of â&#x20AC;˘the trefoiled panels above, on the inner side, and three on the outer side of each arch. The arrangement is given in Plate XII., fig. is

:

his

3.

Associated \\ith the various undulation of flamboyant cm'ves


THE LAMP OF bolow,

it is

one mass wrong, to

in tlie real

Granting

it,

West

In Plate

binds

it

courage

(part of a small chapel

11.

requires

it

attached to

front of the Cathedral of St. Lo), the reader will see

from the same architecture, of a violation of a pecuhar meaning.

principles for the sake of

If there

which the flamboyant architect loved to decorate

the niche

into

it

however, to be ugly and

I like sins of the kind, for the sake of the

instance,

feature

139

tower hardly observed, while

in general effect.

commit them.

the

LIFE.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

it

was what the

in the case before us there

capital

its

be any one

richly, it

to the Corinthian order

;

was yet

an ugly beehive put in the place of the

is

principal niche of the arch.

interpretation of

is

an

own

its

I

am

meaning, but

I

not sure

have

little

am

if I

right in

my

doubt that two figures

now broken away, once represented an Annunciation and on another part of the same cathedral, I find the descent of the Spirit, encompassed by rays of hght, represented very nearly in the below,

;

form of the niche in question

;

Avhich appears, therefore, to be

intended for a representation of this effulgence, while at the same

AVhether it was made a canopy for the delicate figures below. was its meaning or not, it is remarkable as a daring departure from the common habits of the time. XIX. Far more splendid is a hcense taken with the niche decoThe subject of the ration of the portal of St. Maclou at Rouen. tympanum bas-relief is the Last Judgment, and the sculpture of the inferno side is carried out with a degTee of power whose fearful grotesqueness I can only describe as a mingling of the minds of

time this

Orcagna and Hogarth. than Orcagna's in

its

less

;

Tlie

demons

are perhaps even

utmost despair, the English painter

wild

is

more awhl

and, in some of the expressions of debased humanity is

at least equalled.

Not

the imagination which gives fuiy and fear even to the

placing of the figures.

An

e^il

angel, poised

on the wing, drives

condemned troops from before the Judgment seat A^th his left hand he drags behind him a cloud, which he is spreading like a \^-inding-sheet over them all but they are m'ged by him so furiously, the

;

;

that they are driven not merely to the extreme limit of that

scene,

which the sculptor confined elsewhere within the tympanum, but out of the

tympanum and

into the niches of the arch

;

while the flames

by the blast, as it seems, of the angel's wings, the niches also, and burst up through their tracery^ the

that follow them, bent

rush into tlii'ee

lowermost niches being represented as

all

on

fire

,

while,


;

THE LAMP OF

14:0

LIFE.

instead of their usual vaulted and ribbed ceiling, tliere in bhe roof of eacli, witli his wings folded over

it,

a demon down out

is

grinning

of the black shadow.

XX. mere

I have, however, given

exjDedient

the faculty which turns to

this

instance, or in

last

example of the Vitality of Assimilation,

but, as a single

;

enough instances of xitahty shown in

whether wise, as surely in

darino-,

its

pui'poGes all material that

is

submitted

refer the reader to the extraordinary

columns of the

arcade on the south side of the Cathedral of Fcrrara.

A single arch

to

I

it,

of

it

would

ing a group, there are interposed two the is

left

Four such arches form-

given in Plate XIII. on the right.

is

of the

same

a long arcade

of,

many more and ;

plate

and

in the grace

know do not know

certainly

not

I suppose,

curves I hardly

its

}>airs

of columns, as seen on

and then come another four

;

less tlian forty arches,

simplicity of

equal.

Its like,

it

it

fine,

is

suggest images of

though bizarre

less

It

Byzantine

fancy of column, I

and

seems, to adopt ideas and

resemblances from any sources whatsoever.

beside

its stilted

there being hardly two correspondent,

;

the arcliitect ha\TLng been ready, as

up the two columns

in

arches.

perhaps of

The vegetation gro^^^ng ;

the distorted pillars

agreeable character

;

the serpentine

arrangements founded on the usual Byzantine double knot are generally graceful

ugly type of the

;

but I was puzzled to account for the excessively pillar,

happened, fortunately and,

for

fig.

3.,

one of a group of

me, that there had been a

when I had finished my sketch way of some merchants of

of the

of the pillar, I

four.

fair in

had

miscellaneous wares,

It

so

Ferrara

to get out

who were

had been shaded by an awning supported by poles, which, in OKler that the covering might be raised or lowered according to the height of the sun, were composed of two separate pieces, fitted to each other by a rack^ in which I beheld It will not be thought, after what the prototype of my ugly pillar.

removing

their stall.

It

I have above spkI of the inexpedience of imitating anything but

natural form, that I advance this architect's practice as altogether

exemplary

;

such sources

yet the humility for

motives

is

instructive,

of thought,

the

which condescended to boldness, which could

all established types of form, and the hfe and which out of an assemblage of such quaint and uncouth materials, could produce an harmonious piece of ecclesiastical

depart so far from feeling,

architecture.


THE LAMP OF

XXI.

I have dwelt, however, perhaps, too long

of \itaHty which

atonements

which

known almost

is

We

them.

for

must

as

much by

briefly note

its

upcn that form errors as by its

the operation of

it,

always right, and always necessary, upon those lesser

is

details,

141

LIFE.

where

can

it

superseded by precedents, nor

be

neither

repressed by proprieties. I said, early in this essay, that

from machine-work

was possible

for

;

hand-work might always be known same time, that it

obser\ing, however, at the

men

to turn

themselves into machines, and

reduce their labor to the machine level

to

men work

but so long as

;

as men, putting their heart into what they do, and doing their best,

how bad workmen they may be, thei'e will be that in handhng which is above all price it will be plainly seen that some places have been dehghted in more than others that there has been a pause, and a care about them and then there will come it

matters not

the

:

;

and fast bits and here the chisel will have struck hard, and there hghtly, and anon timidly and if the man's mind as w^ell as his heart went with his \vork, all this will be in the right places, and each part will set off the other and the effect of the whole, as compared with the same design cut by a machine or a hfeless hand, 'v\ill be hke that of poetry well read and deeply felt to that of the same verses jangled by rote. There are many to whom the difcareless bits,

;

;

;

ference

thing

imperceptible

is

—they had who

to those

everything. ill

cut

but to those

who

love poetry

it

every-

is

and and accent of the hand are They had rather not have ornament at all, than see it it

at

all,

than hear

it ill

read

;

love Architecture, the hfe

cannot too —deadly that not not blunt bad but everywhere—the smooth, —the look equal a plough —the more The show any other— men work than and they cut,

coarse cutting, is

;

rather not hear

often repeat,

I

is.

cutting, that

it is

cold cutting

is

chill

field.

complete

likely,

is

:

and

if

completeness

is

;

regularity of

indeed, to

in

finished

it

it

trouble

of

diffused tranquillity of heartless pains

a level

necessarily

cool

is

in

itself in

tire

as

thought to be vested in pohsh, and

by help of sand paper, we may as well give the But right finish is simply the and high finish is the full rendering of the intended impression rendering of a well intended and vivid impression and it is oftener I am not sure whether it is got by rough than fine handhng. frequently enough observed that sculpture is not the mere cutting

to be attainable

work

to the engine-lathe at once.

;

;


THE LAMP OF

142

oi the form of anything in stone;

LIFE.

it is tlie

often the true form, in the marble,

Very

cutting of

tlie

would not be

efect of

it

in the least

must paint with his chisel half his touches power into the form they are touches and raise a ridge, or sink a hollow, not to of light and shadow represent an actual ridge or hollow, but to get a hne of hght, or a

hke

The

itself.

sculptor

:

are not to realize, but to put

:

;

In a coaree way,

spot of darkness.

marked ric

in old

French woodwork

;

this

the

kind of execution

ii'ises

of the eyes of

its

is

very

cliime-

monsters being cut boldly into holes, which, variously placed,

and always dark, give averted and askance,

kinds of strange and startling expressions,

all

Perhaps the

to the fantastic countenances.

highest examples of this kind of sculpture-painting are the works of

Mino da Fiesole their best effects being reached by strange angular, and seemingly rude, touches of the chisel. The lips of one of the children on the tombs in the church of the Badia, appear only half finished when they are seen close yet the expression is farther carried and ;

;

more

than in any piece of marble I have ever seen,

ineffable,

especially considering

delicacy,

its

and the

of the child-

softness

In a sterner kind, that of the statues in the sacristy of

features.

St.

and there again by incompletion. I know no example of work in which the forms are absolutely true and complete where such a result is attained in Greek sculptures it is not even Lorenzo equals

it,

;

attempted.

XXIL

It is

line handling,

evident that, for architectural appliances, such mascu-

hkely as

it

must be

to retain

its

effectiveness

when

higher finish would be injured by time, must always be the most expedient

and

;

as

it

is

impossible, even were

it

desirable that the

highest finish should be given to the quantity of work which covers

a large building,

it

will

be understood

how

precious the intelligence

must become, which renders incompletion itself a means of adchtional expression and how great must be the difference, when the touches are rude and few, between those of a careless and those of a regard;

ful

mind.

copy

;

It is

not easy to retain anything of their character in a

yet the reader will find one or two illustrative points in the

examples, given in Plate XIV., fi*om the bas-reliefs of the north of

Rouen Cathedral.

There are three square pedestals under the three

main niches on each side of it, and one in the centre each of these being on two sides decorated with five quatrefoiled panels. There are thus seventy quatrefoils in the lower ornament of the gate alone, ;


THE LAMP OF

LIFE.

143

counting those of the outer course round

without

pedestals outside

each quatrcfoil

:

is filled

somethinn: above a man's

reacliino- to

would, of course, have

made

with a

A

lioio-ht.

it,

and of the

bas-ielief,

modern

the whole arcliitr^ct

the five quatreftnls of each pedestal-

all

The general form being apparentcomposed of semicircles on the sides of a square, it will be found on examination that none of the arcs are semicircles, and none of the basic figures squares. The latter are rhomboids, haWng their acute or obtuse angles uppermost according to their larger or smaller size and the arcs upon their sides shde into such side equal

:

not so the Mediaeval.

ly a quatrefoil

;

fjlaces as

they can get in the angles of the enclosing parallelogram,

leaving intervals, at each of the four angles, of various shapes, which are

filled

The

each by an animal.

thus varied, the two lowest of the

and the uppermost a

httle

size five

of the whole panel being

are

tall,

the next two short,

higher than the lowest; while in the

course of bas-rehefs which surrounds the gate, calling either of the

two lowest (which are equal) ÂŤ, and either of the next two 6, and It fifth and sixth c and o?, then d (the largest) -.cv. c:a'.:a:h. is wonderful how much of the gi-ace of the whole depends on these

the

variations.

XXIII. Each of the

angles,

There are thus '70X4=280 fillinofs

said, is all

of the intervals of the bas-rehefs.

with their beasts, actual I

was

it

animals,

have given I say

in Plate

size,

filled

different,

by an animal. in the mere

Three of these

intervals,

the curves being traced upon the stone,

XIV.

nothing of their general design, or of the

lines of the

wings

which are perhaps, unless in those of the central dragon, not much above the usual commonplaces of good ornamental work but there is an evidence in the features of thoughtfulness and fancy which is not common, at least now-a-days. The upper creature on the left is biting something, the form of which is hardly traceable in

and

scales,

;

the defaced stone recofj'nise in

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;but

biting he is;

and the reader cannot but

the peculiarly reverted eye the expression which

seen, as I think, but in the eye of a

is

never

dog gnawing something in jest, the meaning of the glance, so far

and preparing to start away with it as it can be marked by the mere incision of the chisel, will be fell by comparing it with the eye of the couchant figure on the right, in The plan of this head, and the nod its gloomy and angry brooding. :

of the cap over

its

brow, are fine

;

but there

is

a httle touch above


— THE LAMr of

144

life.

hand especially well^iieant the fellow is vexed and puzzled in and his hand is pressed hard on his cheek bone, and the maUce his The flesh of the cheek is wrinkled under the eye by the pressure. whole, indeed, looks wretchedly coarse, when it is seen on a scale in which it is naturally compared with delicate figure etchings but considerin<y it a& a mere filling of an interstice on the outside of a cathedral gate, and as one of more than three hundred (for in my tlie

:

;

;

estimate I did not include the outer pedestals),

proves very noble

it

\^tality in the art of the time.

beheve the right question to ask, respecting all ornament, Was it done with enjoyment was the carver happv while he was about it ? It may be the hardest work possible, and the harder because so much pleasure was taken in it but it must have

XXIV.

is

I

simply this

:

;

been happy mason's

toil this

is

There

absolute.

near Rouen, vile enough, indeed, in

and

all

it is all

evidently

as

dead

touch, not one

did

it

hated

it,

a Gothic church lately built general composition, but

its

;

as leaves in

warm

is

many of the details are designed with by a man who has studied old work closely.

excessively rich in detail

But

of the stone

condition would exclude I hardly venture to consider,

but the condition

taste,

How much

not be h^dng.

too, or it ^vill

stroke,

December

;

there

not one tender

is

The men who

on the whole facade.

and were thankful when

it

was done.

And

so long

do so they are merely loading your walls with shapes of clay: the garlands of everlastings in Pere la Chaise are more You cannot get the feeling by paying for it cheerful ornaments.

as they

money

will

not buy

am

I

life.

watchino- or waitino- for

not sure even that you can get

It is true that

it.

here and there a

it

by

workman

be found who has it in him, but he does not rest contented in he struggles forward into an Academician and from the mass of available handicraftsmen the power is gone how

may

the inferior work

recoverable I

;

know not

:

this

only I know, that

all

expense devoted

to sculptural ornament, in the present condition of that power, literally

under the head of

I believe the only

manner

geometrical color-mosaic, strenuously taking thino'

we have

up

in our

this

comes

Sacrifice for the sacrifice's sake, or worse.

of rich ornament that

is

and that much might

mode

power

of design.

—the

open to us result

But, at

all

is

the

from our

events, one

doing witliout machine ornament

and cast-iron work. All the stamped metals, and artificial stones, and imitation woods and bronzes, over the invention of which we


:

THE LAMP OF hear daily exultation

doing that whose

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

all

the

sliort,

difficulty is

obstacles in our already

LIFE.

and

honor

its

clieap,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;they

will

They

They

nor the privilege of enjoyment.

For we are not we cannot put our

to

do

for

our bread, and that

to

do

for

our dehght, and that

be done by halves or

only

will

and

is

meant will, and

for

may

is

to.

it

done strenuously

to be

all.

us shallower

feebler in our wits.

done heartily ;

Perhaps

:

and what all

that

useless in itself; but, at all events, the

It

work

certain ;

other work neither is

is

to

not worth

we have

to

do

if it is

little

use

it

has

not worth putting our hands and our

does not become om* immortahty to take an ease

inconsistent with

which

make one

nothing more than an exercise of the heart and of the

well be spared

strength

to be is

make

We have

hearts.

but with a will

not to be done at

this eflfort is

shifts,

is

many new

not

sent into this world to do any

justly.

thing into which

will

extend neither the pride of judgment

in our understandings, colder in our hearts,

And most

and easy ways of

are just so

encumbered road.

of us happier or wiser

145

its

any instruments with and the things it rules own mind by any other

authority, nor to suffer

can dispense, to come between

and he who would form the

it

creations of his

own hand, would, also, if he might, give gi'inding Heaven's angels, to make their music easier. There is

instrument than his

organs to

dreaming enough, and earthiness enough, and sensuality enough in existence without our turning the few glowing moments of it

human

must at the best be but a vapor and then vanishes away, let it at least appear as a cloud in the height of Heaven, not as the thick darkness that broods over the blast of the Furnace, and rolling of the Wheel.

into

mechanism

;

and

since our hfe

that appears for a Uttle time


OHAI'TER

VI.

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

Among

I.

the hours of his hfe to which the writer looks back

with pecuhar gratitude, as having been marked by more than ordinary fulness of joy or clearness of teaching,

among

ago, near time of sunset,

which

skirt the course of the Ain,

in the Jura.

It is

above the village of Champagnole,

a spot which has

the savageness, of the Alps

;

one passed, now some years

is

the broken masses of pine forest

the solemnity, with none of

all

where there

a sense of a great power

is

beginning to be manifested in the earth, and of a deep and majestic concord in the

of the long low lines of piny hills; the

rise

utterance of those mighty mountain sjrmphonies, soon to be

first

more

loudly lifted and Tvildly broken along the battlements of the Alps.

But

their strength

as yet restrained

is

and the

;

far

reaching ridges

of pastoral mountain succeed each other, like the long and sighing swell

which moves over quiet waters from some

And

there

The

is

destructive forces

and the

No

are alike withdraws..

stormy

sea.

stern expression of the central ranges

fi'ost-ploughed,

dust-encumbered paths of

ancient glacier fret the soft Jura pastures ruin break the

far-ofi"

a deep tenderness pervading that vast monotony.

fair

ranks of her forests

;

;

no

no splintered heaps of pale, defiled, or furious

and changeful ways among her rocks. Patiently, eddy by eddy, the clear green streams wind along their well-known beds and under the dark quietness of the undisturbed

rivers

rend their rude

;

pines, there spring up,

as I

know

year by year, such

not the like of

among

all

company

of joyful flowers

the blessings of the earth.

It

and all were coming forth in clusters crowded there was room enough for all, but they crushed their for very love leaves iato all manner of strange shapes only to be nearer each other. There was the wood anemone, star after star, closing every was Spring time, too

;

;

now and then

into nebulae

;

and there was the oxahs, troop by troop,


;

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

147

like virginal processions of the

Mois de Marie, the dark vertical clefts choked up with them as with heavy snow, and touched with ivy on the edges ivy as Hght and lovely as the vine and, ever and anon, a blue gush of violets, and cowshp bells in sunny in the limestone

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

places ; and in the more open ground, the vetoh, and comfrey, and mezereon, and the small sapphire buds of the Polygala Alpina, and the wild strawberry, just a blossom or two, all showered amidst the golden softness of deep, warm, amber-colored moss. I came out

presently on the edge of the ravine:

the solemn murmur of its waters rose suddenly fi-om beneath, mixed with the singing of the thrushes among the pine boughs and, on the opposite side of the valley, walled all along as it was by grey cliffs of hmestone, there ;

was a hawk saihng slowly off their brow, touching them nearly with his wings, and with the shadows of the pines flickering upon his plumage from above but with a fall of a hundred fathoms under his breast, and the curling pools of the green river ghding and ;

glittering dizzily

as

he

flew.

upon any other beauty

beneath him, their foam globes moving with him

would be

It

interest

conceive a scene less dependent its

own

secluded and serious

but the writer well remembers the sudden blankness and which were cast upon it when he endeavored, in order more

chill

;

strictly to arrive at

the sources of

moment, a scene

for a

The

difficult to

than that of

in

some

its

impressiveness, to imagine

aboriginal forest of the

flowers in an instant lost their light, the river

it,

New Continent. its

music'*

;

the

became oppressively desolate a hea\-iness in the boughs of the darkened forest showed how much of their former power had been dependent upon a hfe which was not theii-s, how much of the glory hills

;

of the imperishable, or continually renewed, creation

things

more precious

in their

memories than

it,

is

in

reflected its

from

renewing.

Those ever springing flowers and ever flowing streams had been dyed by the deep colors of human endurance, valor, and virtue and ;

the crests of the sable hills that rose against the evening sky received

a deeper worship, because their far shadows iron wall of II.

It

is

fell

eastward over the

Joux and the four-square keep of Granson. as the centralisation and protectress of

influence, that Architecture

serious thought.

We

may

is

to be regarded

hve without her,

her,

but we cannot remember without her.

how

lifeless all

this

sacred

by us with the most and worship without

How

cold

is all

history,

imagery, compared to that which the living nation


THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

lis writes,

and the uncorrupted marble

we not

doubtful record might

upon another

The ambition

!

directed for this world

!

row many pages

of

of the old Babel builders was well

there are but two strong conquerors of the

men, Poetry and Architecture and the latter in and is mightier in its reality it is

forgetfulness of

some

:

beai-s

often spare, for a few stones left one

;

sort includes the former,

;

what men have thought and felt, but what their hands have handled, and their streng-th wrought, and their The age of Homer is eyes beheld, all the days of their life. well to have, not only

Not

surrounded with darkness, his very personality with doubt.

so

and the day is coming when we shall confess, that we have learned more of Greece out of the crumbled fragments of that of Pericles

:

her sculpture than even from her sweet singers or soldier historians.

And

if

indeed there be any profit in our knowledge of the past, or

any joy

in the

thought of being remembered hereafter, which can

give strength to present exertion, or patience to present endurance, there are two duties respecting national architecture

ance

it is

imjDossible to overrate

of the day, historical

;

;

the

first,

whose import-

to render the architecture

and, the second, to preserve, as the most

precious of inheritances, that of jDast ages. III.

truly

It is in the first of these

two

that

directions

Lamp

be said to be the Sixth

Memory may

of Architecture

;

for it is in

becoming memorial or monumental that a true perfection is attained by civil and domestic buildings and this partly as they are, with ;

such a \dew, built in a more stable manner, and partly as their decorations

As

are

consequently

hearts, of

is

by

a

metaphorical

or

regards domestic buildings, there must always be a certain

limitation to xiews, of this

when

animated

meaniuLT.

liistorical

men

;

still

I

kind in the power, as well as in the

cannot but think

their houses are built to last for

it

an

evil sign of

a people

one generation only.

There

a sanctity in a good man's house which cannot be renewed iu

its ruins and I believe that good men would generally feel this and that having spent their hves happily and honorably, they would be grieved at the close of them to think

every tenement that rises on

:

;

that the place of their earthly abode, which had seen,

almost to sympathise in Buffering,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

that

all

this, A^^th all

material things that they

their honor,

the record

it

their

and seemed

gladness, or their

bare of them, and

had loved and ruled

over,

and

all

of

set tha


;

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

149

stamp of themselves upon was to be swept away, is soon as there was room made for them in the grave that no resptct was to be shown to it, no afiection felt for it, no good to be drawn fi-om it by that though there was a monument in the church, their children there was no warm monument in the hearth and house to them ;

;

that

all

that they ever treasured was despised, and the places that

and comforted them were dragged down to the dust. good man would fear this and that, far more, a good son, a noble descendant, would fear doing it to his father's house. I say that if men lived hke men indeed, their houses would be temples temples which we should hardly dare to injure, and in which it would make us holy to be permitted to live and there

had

sheltered

I say that a

;

;

must

be a strange

unthankfiilness for

all

dissolution

that

own

affection,

a

homes have given and parents

we have been

stranofe consciousness that

honor, or that our

natural

of

are

lives

strange

taught, a

unfaithful to oui

fathers'

not such as would

make our

man would

fain build

dwelhngs sacred to our children, when each

and build for the little revolution of his own hfe only. And I look upon those pitiful concretions of hme and clay which spring up in mildewed forwardness out of the kneaded fields about our capital upon those thin, tottering, foundationless shells of upon those gloomy rows of splintered wood and imitated stone formalised minuteness, ahke without difference and without fellowto himself,

ship, as solitary as similar

—not merely with

an offended eye, not merely with sorrow but

with a painful foreboding

that

the careless disgust of

for a desecrated landscape,

the

roots

of

our national

must be deeply cankered when they are thus loosely that those comfortless and unhonored struck in their native ground dwellings are the signs of a great and spreading spirit of popular that they mark the time when every man's aim is to be discontent in some more elevated sphere than his natural one, and every man's when mer build in the hope of past life is his habitual scorn leaving the places they have built, and live in the hope of forgetting

greatness

;

;

;

the years that they have lived religion of

home have

;

when

ceased to be

felt

the, ;

comfort, the peace, the

and the crowded tenements

of a struggling and restless population differ only from the tents of

the Arab or the Gipsy by their less healthy openness to the air of heaven, and less happy choice of their spot of earth

;

by

theii

|


;

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

150 sacrifice of liberty

without the gaia of

rest,

and of stabihty without

the luxury of change. rV^.

is no slight, no consequenceless e\dl and fecund of other fault and misfortune.

This

infectious,

;

it

is

ominous,

When men

not love their hearths, nor reverence their thi'esholds,

it

is

do

a sign

they have dishonored both, and that they have never acknowledged the true universahty of that Chiistian worship which

that

was indeed to supersede the idolatry, but not the piety, of the pagan. Our God is a household God, as well as a heavenly one He has an ;

altar in every

man's dwelling

;

let

men

look to

it

when they rend

it

and pour out its ashes. It is not a question of mere ocular dehght, it is no question of intellectual pride, or of cultivated and critical fancy, how, and with what aspect of durabihty and of com-

lightly

pleteness, the domestic buildings of a nation shall be raised.

It is

one

more impunity to be neglected because the perception of them depends on a finely toned and balanced conscientiousness, to build our dwelhngs with care, and patience, and fondness, and dihgent completion, and with a \iew to of those moral duties, not with

their duration at least for such a period as, in

the ordinary course

of national revolutions, might be supposed hkely to extend to the entire alteration

of the du-ection of

local

mterests.

This at the

would be better if, in every possible instance, men built their own houses on a scale commensurate rather with their condition at the commencement, than their attainments at the and built them to stand ai termination, of their worldly career long as human work at its strongest can be hoped to stand recording to their children what they have been, and from what, if least

;

but

it

;

so

had been permitted them, they had risen. And when houses thus built, we may have that true domestic architecture, the

it

are

all other, which does not disdain to and thoughtfulness the small habitation as well

beginning of

treat with respect

as the large,

and

which invests with the dignity of contented manhood the narrow ness of worldly circumstance. this spirit of honorable, proud, peaceful self-possesabiding wisdom of contented hfe, as probably one of the

V. I look to sion, this

chief som'ces of great intellectual

power

in all ages,

and beyond

dis-

pute as the very primal source of the great architecture of old Italy and France. To this day, the interest of their fairest cities depends^


â&#x20AC;&#x201D; THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

151

not on the isolated richness of palaces, but on the cherished and exquisite decoration of even the smallest tenements of their

The most

periods.

proud

elaborate piece of architecture in Venice

is

a

small house at the head of the

Grand Canal, consisting of a ground floor with two stories above, three windows in the first, and two in the second. Many of the most exquisite buildings are on the narrower canals, and of no larger dimensions. One of the most interesting pieces of fifteenth century architecture in North Italy, is a small house in a back street, behind the market-place of Vicenza it bears date 1481, and the motto, II, vHest. rose. sans. ^jnne. ; it has also only a gi'ound floor and two stories, with three windows in each, ;

separated by rich flower-work, and with balconies, supported, the

by an eagle with open wings, the lateral ones by winged The idea that a house must be large in order to be well built, is altogether of modern growth, and is parallel with the idea, that no picture can be historical, except of central one

standing on cornucopiae.

griffins

a

size

admitting figures larger than

hfe.

VI. I would have, then, our ordinary dwelling-houses built to

and

built to

be lovely

within and without

;

as rich

and

full

last,

may

of pleasantness as

be,

with what degree of hkeness to each other in style and manner, I will say presently, under another head but, at ;

;

all events,

with such difierences as might suit and express each man's

character and occupation, and partly his histoiy.

the

house, I conceive, belongs to

respected

by

should be

left in places,

his children

;

and

it

This right over

and is to be would be well that blank stones its

fii-st

builder,

to be inscribed with a

summary

of his

life

and of its experience, raising thus the habitation into a kind of monument, and developing, into more systematic instructiveness, that good custom which was of old universal, and which stiU remains amonfy some of the Swiss and Germans, of acknowledging the grace of God's permission to build and possess a quiet resting-place, in such sweet words as taken them

may

fi-ora

the

well close our speaking of these things. fi-ont

of a cottage lately built

among

I have

the green

pastures which descend from the village of Grindelwald to the lowef glacier

:

" Mit herzlichem Vertraiien Hat Johannes Mooter und Maria Rubi Dieses Haus bauen lassen. Der liebe Gott woU uns bewahren

Vor allem Ungliick und Gefahren,


;

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

162

Und es in Segen lassen stehii Auf der Reise durch diese Jammerzeit Nach dem hitnmlischen Paradiese, Wo alle Frommen wohnen,

Da

wird Got! sie belohnen Mit der Friedenskrone

Zu

Ewigkeit."

alle

VII. In pubic buildings the

more

It is

defiaiite.

word Gothic

I use the

to classical,

mited.

that

it

stii

in the

most extended sense

as broadly opposed

admits of a richness of record altogether unli-

minute and multitudinous sculptm-al decorations afford

Its

means of

known

purpose should be

liistorical

one of the advantages of Gcthic architecture,

expressing, either symbolically or hterally,

that need be

all

More decoration

of national feehng or achievement.

will,

indeed, be usually required than can take so elevated a character

and much, even

in the

most thoughtful

periods, has

been

left to

the

freedom of fancy, or suffered to consist of mere repetitions of some national bearing or symbol. in

mere

variety

It

is,

however, generally unwise, even

surface ornament, to surrender the

which the

in important

features

power and

of Gothic architectjure admits

spirit

capitals

;

pri\dlege of

much more

of columns or bosses, and string-

com'ses, as of course in all confessed bas-reliefe.

Better the rudest

work that

tells

meaning.

There should not be a single ornament put upon great

a story or records a

fact,

than the richest without

some intellectual intention. Actual repremodern times been checked by a difficulty, mean indeed, but steadfast that of unmanageable costume nevertheless, by a sufficiently bold imaginative treatment, and frank use civic building-s, \vithout

sentation of history has in

:

of symbols,

all

such obstacles

;

may

be vanquished

the degree necessary to produce sculpture in at all events so as to

enable

it

become a

to

element of architectural composition.

;

not perhaps in

itself satisfactory,

gi-and

but

and expressive

Take, for example, the ma-

nagement of the capitals of the ducal palace at Venice. History, as such, was indeed entrusted to the painters of its interior, but every capital of its arcades was tilled with meaning. The large one, the corner stone of the whole, next the entrance, was devoted to the symbohsation of Abstract Justice

Judgment

;

above

it

is

a sculpture of the

of Solomon, remarkable for a beautiful subjection in

treatment to

its

decorative purpose.

The

figures, if the subject

it3

had


;

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

153

been entirely composed of them, would have awkwardly interrupteif the line of the angle, and diminished

apparent strength

its

;

and

therefore in the midst of them, entirely without relation to them,

and indeed

and interceding mother, massy tree, which supports and and whose leaves above overshadow

actually between the executioner

there rises the ribbed trunk of a

continues the shaft of the angle,

and enrich the whole. throned

"che

die legge,"

from decay.

The

below bears among

capital

leafage a

its

of Justice, Trajan doing justice to the widow, Aristotle

figiu-e

and one or two other

The

capitals next in

subjects

now

unintelligible

order represent the \irtues and

vices in succession, as preservative or destructive of national peace

and power, concluding with in

Deo

A figure

est."

is

Faith, with the inscription " Fides

optima

seen on the opposite side of the capital,

After these, one or two capitals are fancifully

worshipping the sun.

decorated with birds (Plate V.), and then come a series representing, first

the various

fruits,

then the national costumes, and then the ani-

mals of the various countries subject to Venetian

Vin. Now, not let

rule.

any more important public building, us imagine our own India House adorned in this way, by histo speak of

torical or symbolical sculpture

:

massively built in the

first

place

then chased with bas-rehefe of our Indian battles, and fretted with and the car\ings of Oriental foliage, or inlaid with Oriental stones ;

more important members of its decoration composed of groups of Indian hfe and landscape, and prominently expressing the phantasms Would not one of Hindoo worship in then subjection to the Cross. If, however, we such work be better than a thousand liistories ? have not the invention necessary

for

bably one of the most noble excuses

such

eflforts,

we can

or

if,

offer for

w^hich

is

pro-

our deficiency

in such matters, we liave less pleasure in talking about ourselves, even in marble, than the Continental nations, at least we have no excuse for any want of care in the points which insure the builder's

endurance.

And

as this question

tions to the choice of various to enter into

it

at

some

is

one of great interest in its reladecoration, it will be necessary

modes of

length.

IX. Tlie benevolent regards and purposes of can be supposed to extend beyond their look to posterity as an audience, labor for

its

praise

:

they

may

ledged merit, and demand

its

own

men in masses seldom They may

generation.

may hope

for its

attention,

trust to its recognition of justice for

and

unacknow-

contemporary wi-ong.

Bu/


THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

154 all this is to,

mere

selfishness,

or consideration

and does not involve the shghtest regard by whose numbers we of our flatterers, and by whose authority

the interest of those

of,

would fain swell the circle we would gladly support our presently disputed claims.

The idea

sake of posterity, of practising present economy for the sake of debtors yet unborn, of plantmg forests that our descendants may hve under their shade, or of raising cities for future of self-denial for the

nations to inhabit, never, I suppose, efficiently takes place among Yet these are not the less publicly recognised motives of exertion.

nor is our part fitly sustained upon the earth, unless the range of our intended and dehberate usefulness include not only the companions, but the successors, of our pilgrimage. God has lent our duties

;

us the earth for our hfe

;

a gi-eat entail.

it is

It

belongs as

much to

and whose names are already written and we have no right, by anything in the book of creation, as to us that we do or neglect, to involve them in imnecessary penalties, or deprive them of benefits which it was in our power to bequeath. those

who

are to

come

after us,

;

And

more, because

this the

men

the labor of

sowing and the harvest, rally, therefore,

it

one of the appointed conditions of time between the seed-

is

that, in proportion to the is

the

the farther off

fiihiess

we

desire to be ourselves the witnesses of

more wide and

rich will be the

not benefit those that are with

come

them

after

;

of the

fi-uit

;

and that gene-

place our aim, and the less

what we have labored

we the

Men

can-

as they can benefit those

who

measure of our

them

for,

success.

and of all the pulpits fi-om which human voice is is none from which it reaches so far as from the

ever sent forth, there I

grave.

X. Nor futurity.

is

there, indeed,

Every

by

magnificence,

human its

any present

loss,

in such respect for

action gains in honor, in grace, in all true

regard to things that are to come.

It is

the far

and confident patience, that, above all other atand tributes, separate man from man, and near him to his Maker there is no action nor art, whose majesty we may not measure by

sight, the quiet

;

Therefore,

this test.

ever. let it

when we

build, let us think that

we

build for â&#x20AC;˘

not be for present delight, nor for present use alone be such work as our descendants will thank us for, and let us

Let

think, as

it

we

lay stone on stone, that a time

is

to

come when those

Btones Moll be held sacred because our hands have touched them,

and that men

will

say as they look upon the labor and wrought


THE LAMP OF MEMORY. Bubstance of them, " See

!

this

our fathers did for us."

the great(}st glory of a building Its

glory

in its

is

Age, and

155

not in

is

in that

For, indee<i

stones, or in its gold.

its

deep sense of voicefulness, of

stern watching, of mysterious sympathy, nay, even of approval or

condemnation, which we

feel in walls that have long been washed by the passing waves of humanity. It is in their lasting witness against men, in their quiet contrast wdth the transitional character

of all things, in the strength which, through the lapse of seasons and

and the decline and

times,

face of the earth,

birth of dynasties,

and of the hmits of the

and the changing of the

sea,

maintains

shapeliness for a time insuperable, connects forgotten

sculptured

its

and following

ages with each other, and half constitutes the identity, as trates the

that

we

sympathy, of nations

it

is

are to look for the real light,

architecture ter, till

;

it

and

;

it is

and

it

concen

golden stain of time,

in that

color,

and preciousness of

not until a building has assumed this charac-

has been entrusted wdth the fame, and hallowed by the

deeds of men,

walls have been witnesses of suflfering,

and its more lasting as it is than that of the natural objects of the world around it, can be gifted with even so much as these possess of language and pillars

of

rise

till

its

out of the shadows of death, that

its

existence,

life.

XI. For that period, then, we must build to ourselves the

not, indeed, refusing

;

delight of present completion, nor hesitating to

follow such portions of character as

may depend upon

delicacy of

execution to the highest perfection of which they are capable, even

although we perish

;

may know

that in the course of years such details must

but taking care that

for

work of

this

kind

we

sacrifice

enduring quality, and that the building shall not depend impressiveness

no

for its

This would, upon anything that is perishable. good composition under any circumstances, the

indeed, be the law of

arrangement of the larger masses being always a matter of greater importance than the treatment of the smaller but in arcliitecture ;

there in

is

much

in that very treatment

proportion to

(which effects

is still

its

more

which

is

skilful or

otherwise

just regard to the probable eftects of time to

be considered) there

is

:

and

a beauty in those

themselves, which nothing else can replace, and which

it

is

For though, hitherto, we have been speaking of the sentiment of age only, there is an actual beauty in the marks of it, such and so great as to have become not

our wisdom to consult and to desire.


;

THE LAMP OF

156 unfrequently

tlie

MEMOlilT.

subject of especial choice

among

certain schools ol

upon those schools the character usually and loosely expressed by the term " picturesque." It is of some importance to our present purpose to determine the true meaning art,

and

to have impressed

of this expression, as

it is

now

generally used

;

pie to be developed from that use which, while

much

the ground of

that

is

and

true

just in our

for there is a princi* it

has occultly been

judgment of

art,

has

never been so far understood as to become definitely serviceable.

Probably no word in the language (exclusive of theological expressions), has been the subject of so frequent or so prolonged dispute yet none remained more vague in their acceptance, and

me

it

seems to

be a matter of no small interest to investigate the essence of that idea which all feel, and (to appearance) with respect to similar things, and yet which every attempt to define has, as I believe, ended either in mere enumeration of the effects and objects to which to

the term has been attached, or else in attempts at abstraction more

palpably nugatory than investigation

on other

any which have disgraced metaphysical A recent critic on Ai*t, for instance,

subjects.

has gravely advanced the theory that the essence of the picturesque consists in the expression of " universal decay."

It

would be curious

to see the result of an attempt to illustrate this idea of the picturesque, in a painting

of dead flowers

and decayed

and

fruit,

equally curious to trace the steps of any reasoning which, on such a theory, should account for the picturesqueness of an ass colt as

But

oj)posed to a horse foal.

most

there

is

much

excuse for even the

utter failure in reasonings of this kind, since the subject

is,

most obscure of all that may legitimately be submitted to human reason and the idea is itself so varied in the minds of different men, according to their subjects of study, that no

indeed, one of the

;

definition

of

can be expected to embrace more than a certain number

its infinitely

multiplied forms.

XII. That

peculiar

character,

however,

which

the

separates

picturesque from the characters of subject belonging to the higher

walks of art (and this pose to define),

may

picturesque, that lUl

sublimity

is,

is

it is

necessary for our present pur-

be shortly and decisively expressed.

turesqueness, in this sense, sublimity, as well as

that

is all

all

is

Parasitical Sublimity.

beauty,

to say,

fit

even in the

to

is,

Of

Pic-

course

all

in the simple etymological sense,

become the subject of a

]3eciiliar

sense which I

am

picture

;

and

erldea^'orini]f


;

â&#x20AC;˘

THE LAMP OF MEMORY. to develope, picturesque, as is

15?

opposed to beauty

;

that

is

to say, therÂŤ

more picturesqueness in the subject of Michael Angelo than of Peru-

gino, in proportion to the prevalence of the sublime element over the

But

beautiful. rally

that character, of which the extreme pursuit

admitted to be degrading to

art, is

parasitical subhmity

gene-

is ;

i.

a

e,,

sublimity dependent on the accidents, or on the least essential characters, of the objects to

which

belongs

it

;

and the picturesque

is

developed distinctively exactly in proportion to the distance from the centre of thought of those points of character in which the sublimity is

Two

found.

the

first,

ideas, therefore, are essential to picturesqueness,

that of sublimity (for pure beauty

and becomes so only

is

not picturesque at

as the sublime element mixes with

it),

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

all,

and the

Of

second, the subordinate or parasitical position of that subhmity.

com'se, therefore, whatever characters of line or shade or expression are

productive of sublinjity, will become productive of picturesqueness

what these characters are length

;

but,

among

I shall

endeavor hereafter to show at

those which are generally acknowledged, I

name angular and broken

lines,

may

\igorous oppositions of hght and

shadow, and grave, deep, or boldly contrasted color and all these a still higher degree effective, when, by resemblance or ;

are in

association,

sublimity

Now

if

they remind us of objects on which a true and essential

exists, as of

rocks or mountains, or stormy clouds or waves.

these characters, or any others of a higher and

sublimity, be found

in the

more

abstract

very heart and substance of what

we

contemplate, as the sublimity of Michael Angelo depends on the expression of mental character in his

fig-ures far

more than even on

the noble lines of their arrangement, the art w^hich represents such characters cannot be properly called picturesque

found in the accidental or external

qualities,

:

but, if they be

the distinctive pic-

turesque will be the result. XIII. Thus, in the treatment of the features of the

human

face

by Francia or Angelico, the shadows are employed only to make the and to those features themcontours of the features thoroughly felt ;

selves the

mind

of the observer

to the essential characters

and

all

On

exclusively directed (that

of the thing represented).

sublimity rest on these

sake of the features.

is

;

is

to say,

All power

the shadows are used only for the

the contrary, by Rembrandt, Salvator, or

Caravaggio, the features are used for the sake of the shadows ; and the attention is directed, and the power of the painter addressed to


; :

THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

158

and shade

characters of accidental light

cast across or a.-ound those

In the case of Rembrandt there

features.

in invention

degree of

it

in

engrafted

or

parasitical

is

often

an

essential

and expression besides, and always a liigh the light and shade itself; but it is for the most part

subhmity

sublimity

regards the subject of the

as

painting, and, just so far, picturesque.

XIV. Again,

the

in

Parthenon, shadow

is

management

of

the

of the

sculptures

frequently employed as a dark field on which

This is visibly the case in the metopes, and must have been nearly as much so in the pediment. But the use and it of that shadow is entirely to show the confines of the figures is to their lines, and not to the shapes of the shado\vs beliind them^ The figures themselves are that the art and the eye are addressed. conceived as much as possible in full light, aided by bright reflections they are drawn exactly as, on vases, white figures on a dark gi-ound the forms are drawn.

;

and the sculptors have dispensed with, or even struggled to avoid, all shadows which w^ere not absolutely necessary to the explaining On the contrary, in Gothic sculpture, the shadow of the form. a subject of thought.

becomes

itself

color, to

be an-anged

are very frequently divisions

and

:

their

in certain

made even costume

is

It is

agreeable

considered as a dark

masses

the

;

figures

subordinate to the placing

of

its

enriched at the expense of the forms

underneath, in order to increase the complexity and variety of the

There are thus, both in sculpture and painting,

points of shade.

two, in

some

sort,

opposite schools, of which the one follows for

subject the essential forms of things,

its

and the other the accidental hghts

and shades upon them. There are various degrees of their contramiddle steps, as in the works of Correggio, and all degrees riety but the one of nobihty and of degradation in the several manners :

:

always recognised as the pure, and the other as the picturesque Portions of picturesque treatment will be found in Greek school. is

work, and of pure and unpicturesque in Gothic are

countless instances, as

and

;

in both there

pre-eminently in the works of

Mchael

which shadows become valuable as media of expression^ Into therefore take rank among essential characteristics.

Angelo, in

and

these multitudinous

only

desiring

to

distinctions

prove

the

and exceptions

broad

I

cannot

now

apphcabihty of the

enter,

general

definition.

XV.

Again, the

distinction

will

be found

to exist,

not onlj


THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

159

between forms and shades as subjects of choice, but between

and

One

forms.

inessential

dramatic and picturesque schools of sculpture

ment

of the hair.

By

the

considered as an excrescence

essential

of the chief distinctions between the

artists ^^,

found in the

is

of the time of Peiicles

indicated by few

and rude

treatit

lines,

waa and

subordinated in every particular to the pj-incipality of the features and

How

person. it is

completely this was an

artistical,

not a national idea,

We need but remember

unnecessary to prove.

the emplo\Tnent

of the Lacedaemonians, reported by the Persian spy on the evening

any Homeric

before the battle of Thermopylae, or glance at tion of ideal form, to see

how

descrip-

pm'ely sculpturesque was the law

which reduced the markings of the

hair,

lest,

under the necessary

disadvantages of material, they should interfere with the distinctness of the personal foims. receives almost

On

the contrary, in later sculpture, the hair

the principal care of the

workman

;

and while the

and limbs are clumsily and bluntly executed, the hair is curled and twisted, cut into bold and shadowy projections, and arranged in masses elaborately ornamental there is true subhmity features

:

and the chiaroscuro of these masses, but it is, as regards In the creature represented, parasitical, and therefore picturesque. the same sense we may understand the application of the term to modern animal painting, distinguished as it has been by peculiar nor is it in art attention to the colors, lustre, and texture of skin

in the lines

;

In animals themselves,

alone that the definition will hold. their

subhmity depends upon

their

necessary and principal attributes, as perhaps more than in the horse, peculiarly

fit

we do not

call

them

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

into

mane and beard

shaggy hide

as in

and

;

colt, into

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;they become

pictu-

are so in art exactly in proportion to the prominence of

these excrescential characters.

majesty, as

hands of

as

Exactly

subhmity passes into excrescences

the instance above given of the ass

they should be prominent of

others

them

as in the lion, into horns as in the stag, into

variegation as in the zebra, or into plumage, resque,

all

picturesque, but consider

to be associated with pure historical subject.

in proportion as their character of

when

muscular forms or motions, or

men

in like

;

It

may

often there

those of

often be is

in

most expedient that

them the highest degree

the leopard and boar

Tintoret and

;

and

in the

Rubens, such attributes become

means of deepening the very highest and most ideal impressions. But the picturesque direction of their thoughts Js always distinctly


THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

160 recognizable,

to

the

surface,

developing

out

of

clinging

as

and

character,

as

fi'om that of the creature itself;

common

the

to

essentia*

less

a sublimity different

this

a sublimity which

is,

in a sort,

and the same in its constituent elements, whefher it be sought in the clefts and folds of shaggy hair, or in the chasms and rents of rocks, or in the hanging of thickets or hill sides,

to all the objects of creation,

gloom

or in the alternations of gaiety and

in the variegation

of the shell, the plume, or the cloud.

XVI. Now, in

to return to our

architecture, the

immediate

superinduced

and

subject,

it

so happen? that,

accidental beauty

most

is

commonly inconsistent vdth the preservation of original character, and the picturesque is therefore sought in ruin, and supposed to Whereas, even when so sought, it consists in the consist in decay. mere sublimity of the rents, or fractures, or stains, or vegetation, which assimilate the architecture with the w^ork of Nature, and bestow upon it those circumstances of color and form w^hich are So far as this is done, to universally beloved by the eye of man. the extinction of the true charactei-s of the architecture, resque,

and the

the shaft of the

artist

who

pillar, is

it

pictu-

is

looks to the stem of the ivy instead of

carrying out in

more daring freedom the

debased sculptor's choice of the hair instead of the countenance. But so far as it can be rendered consistent with the inherent character, the picturesque or extraneous sublimity of architecture has just this of nobler function in that

it is

than that of any other object whatsoever,

it

an exponent of age, of that in which, as has been

greatest glory of a building consists signs of this glory, having

;

power and purpose greater than any

belonging to their mere sensible beauty,

rank among pure mind, that

and

essential

I think a building

choice and arranirement of

appearance

would

its

material

be considered as taking so essential

;

details

it

;

to

my

its

prime

and that the

entire

cannot be considered as in

after that period, so that

suflFer

may

characters

have passed over

until four or five centuries

said, the

and, therefore, the external

should have reference to their

none should be admitted which

injury either

by the

weather-staining, or

the mechanical degradation which the lapse of such a period would necessitate.

XVII.

It is

not

my

purpose to enter into any of the questions

which the application of

this

principle involves.

great interest and 'complexity to be even touched

They are of upon within

too rav


THE LAMP OF MEMORY. present limits, but this architecture

is

161

broadly to be noticed, that those styles of

which are picturesque

in the sense

above explained with

whose decoration depends on the arrangement of points of shade rather than on purity of outhne, respect to sculpture, that

do not

suffer,

is

to say,

but commonly gain in richness of

details are partly

worn away

;

hence such

styles,

of French Gothic, should always be adopted

be employed are hable to degradation, as limestone

;

and

when

effect

their

pre-eminently that

when

the materials to

brick, sandstone, or soft

any degTee dependent on purity of hne,

styles in

as

the Italian Gothic, must be practised altogether in hard and unde-

composing

materials,

granite

serpentine,

marbles.

or crystalline

There can be no doubt that the nature of the accessible materials and it should still more influenced the formation of both styles ;

authoritatively determine our choice of either.

XVIII.

It

does not belong to

my

present plan to consider at

length the second head of duty of which I have above spoken preservation of the architecture

we

possess

:

be forgiven, as especially necessary in modern times. the pubhc, nor by those

who have

the true meaning of the

word

Neither by

restoration understood.

out of which no remnants can be

accompanied with let

the

may

the care of public monuments,

the most total destruction which a building can suffer tion

;

but a few words

false descrijÂťtion of the

gathered; a

It :

a destrucdestruction

thing destroyed.

us deceive ourselves in this important matter

;

it is

is

means

Do

not

impossible^ as

impossible as to raise the dead, to restore anything that has ever in architecture. That which I have above upon as the life of the whole, that spirit which is given only by the hand and eye of the workman, never can be recalled. Another spirit may be given by another time, and it is then a new building but the spirit of the dead workman cannot be summoned up, and commanded to direct other hands, and other thoughts. And as for direct and simple copying, it is palpably impossible. WTiat copying can there be of surfaces that have been worn half an The whole finish of the work was in the half inch inch down ? that is gone if you attempt to restore that finish, you do it conjectui'ally if you copy what is left, granting fidelity to be possible (and what care, or watchfulness, or cost can secui*e it ?), how is the new work better than the old ? There was yet in the old some hfe, Bome mysterious suggestion of what it had bee j, and of what it had

been great or beautifid insisted

;

;

;


THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

162

lost

;

some sweetness

and sun had

in the gentle lines whicli rain

There can be none in the brute hardness of the new Look at the animals which I have given in Plate 14., as

wrought. car\dng.

an instance of hving work, and suppose the markings of the sca.es and hair once worn away, or the wrinkles of the brows, and who

them ? The first step to restoration (I have seen and that again and again, seen it on the Baptistery of Pisa, seen it on the Casa d' Oro at Venice, seen it on the Cathedral of Lisieux), the second is usually to put up the is to dash the old work to pieces cheapest and basest imitation which can escape detection, but in all cases, however careful, and however labored, an imitation still, a cold model of such parts as can be modelled, with conjectural supplements ; and my experience has as yet furnished me with only one instance, that of the Palais de Justice at Rouen, in which even this, the utmost degree of fidelity which is possible, has been attained or even attempted. shall ever restore

it,

;

XIX. Do

not

let

The thing

us talk then of restoration.

is

a Lie

You may make a model of a building as and your model may have the shell of the old

from beginning to end.

you may of a walls within

advantage

it

corpse,

as your cast

I neither see

might have the

nor care

;

skeleton,

but the old building

with what destroyed,

is

and that more totally and mercilessly than if it had sunk into a heap of dust, or melted into a mass of clay more has been gleaned out of desolated Nineveh than ever will be out of re-built Milan. But, it is said, there may come a necessity for restoration Granted. Look the necessity full in the face, and understand it on its own Accept it as such, pull the terms. It is a necessity for destruction. :

!

building down, throw of them, or mortar,

up a Lie it

if

its

in their place.

comes, and you

(a principle

which

stones into neglected corners,

you

may

will

And

;

but do

it

honestly,

make

ballast

and do not

set

look that necessity in the face before

prevent

it.

The

principle

I believe, at least in France, to

of

modern times

be systematically

acted on by the masons, in order to find themselves work, as the St. Ouen was pulled down by the magistrates of the town by way of giving work to some vagrants,) is to neglect buildings Take proper care of your monufirst, and restore them afterwards. A few sheets of lead ments, and you will not need to restore them. put in time upon the roof, a few dead leaves and sticks swept in time out of a water-course, mil save both roof and walls from ruin. Watch an old building with an anxious care guard it as best you

abbey of

;


THE LAMP OF MEMORY.

163

any cost, from every influence of dilapidation. Cmnt you would jewels of a crown set watches about it as bind it together with iron where if at the gates of a besieged city do not care about stay it with timber where it declines it loosens and the unsighthness of the aid better a crutch than a lost hmb do this tenderly, and reverently, and continually, and many a generaIts evil tion will still be born and pass away beneath its shadow. day must come at last but let it come declaredly and openly, and msy, and

at

stones as

its

;

;

;

;

;

;

;

no dishonoiing and false substitute deprive it of the funeral offices of memory. XX. Of more wanton or ignorant ravage it is vain to speak my words will not reach those who commit them, and yet, be it heard or not, I must not leave the truth unstated, that it is again no ques-

let

;

tion of expediency or feeling whether

We

of past times or not.

we

shall preserve the buildings

have no right whatever

to

touch them.

They are not ours. They belong partly to those who built them, and partly to all the generations of mankind who are to follow us. The dead have still their right in them that which they labored :

for,

the praise of achievement or the expression of religious feehng,

might be which in those buildings they we have no right to obhterate. What we have ourselves built, we are at liberty to throw down but what other men gave their strength and wealth and life to accomplish, or

whatsoever

else

it

intended to be permanent,

;

away with their death still what they have left vested in us

their right over does not pass

right to

the use

belongs to

of

all their

less is

;

successors.

It

may

only.

we have

by casting down such buildings That sorrow, that loss we have no

consulted our

we

choose to

present convenience

as

dispense with.

right to

its

foundation

did to us,

who walk

mob who

in sorrow to

inflict.

destroyed

and

fro over

Neither does any building whatever belong to those

?

mobs who do it

of Avranches belong to the it

It

hereafter be a subject of

soiTow, or a cause of injury, to millions, that

Did the cathedral it, any more than

the

violence to

it.

For a

mob

it is,

and must be always whether ;

matters not whether enraged, or in dehberate folly;

countless, or sitting in committees

;

the people

who destroy anything

mob, and Architecture is always destroyed causebuilding is necessarily worth the ground it stands be so until central Africa and America shall have

causelessly are a lessly.

A fair

upon, and will

become

as populous as

Mddlesex

;

nor

is

any cause whatever

valid


.64 as a

THE LAMP OF MEMORY. ground

when

for its destruction. If ever valid, certainly not now the place both of the past and future is too much usurped in

our minds

by the

quietness of nature

restless

is

and discontented

present.

gradually Avithdrawn from us

;

The very

thousands

who

once in their necessarily prolonged travel were subjected to an influence, from the silent sky and slumbering fields, more eflfectual than known or confessed, now bear with them even there the ceaseless fever of their life and along the iron veins that traverse the frame of our country, beat and flow the fiery pulses of its exertions, ;

hotter

and

faster

every hour.

All vitahty

throbbing arteries into the central

is

cities

concentrated through those the country is passed over

;

Hke a green sea by narrow bridges, and we are thrown back in continually closer crowds upon the city gates. The only influence which can in any wise there take the place of that of the woods and the power of ancient Architecture. Do not part with it for the sake of the fonnal square, or of the fenced and planted walk, nor of the goodly street nor opened quay. The pride of a city is not in these. Leave them to the crowd but remember that there will fields, is

;

some within the circuit of the disquieted walls who would ask for some other spots than these wherein to walk for some other forms to meet their sight familiarly like him who sat so often surely be

;

:

where

the sun struck from the west, to watch the lines of the dome of Florence drawn on the deep sky, or like those, his Hosts, who could bear daily to behold, from their palace chambers, the pla^jes where their fathere ay at rest, at the meeting of the dark streets of

Verona,

"


;

CHAPTER LAMP

THE

L

It has been

my

OF

VII.

OBEDIENCE.

endeavor to show in the preceding pages ho^

every form of noble architecture

some

embodiment of Once or twice in doing this, I have named a principle to which I would now assign a definite place among those which direct that embodiment the last place, not only as that to which its own humility would is

in

sort the

the PoHty, Life, History, and ReHgious Faith of nations.

inchne, but rather as belonging to

grace of

all

the rest

:

stabihty. Life its happiness, Faith

its

tinuance,

Nor which

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Obedience.

is it

the least

in the aspect of the crowning

it

that principle, I mean, to which Polity owes

among

acceptance, Creation

its

the sources of

more

seri-ous

its

con-

satisfaction

have foimd in the pm-suit of a subject that at first appeared to bear but shghtly on the gi-ave interests of mankind, that the conditions of material perfection which it leads me in conclusion to I

consider, furnish a strange proof frantic the pursuit,

Liberty

how

most treacherous, indeed, of

:

false

of that treacherous all

is

the conception,

;

ray of reason might surely show us, that not only being, was impossible.

how

phantom which men call phantoms for the feeblest its

attainment,

no such thing in the universe. There can never be. The stars have it not the earth has it not the sea has it not and we men have the mockery and sembut

its

There

is

;

;

;

blance of

it

only for our heaviest punishment.

In one of the noblest poems''' for

its

imagery ^nd

its

music belong-

our hterature, the writer has sought in the aspect of inanimate nature the expression of that Liberty which, jig to the recent school of

having once loved, he had seen ness.

But with what strange

among men

in its true dyes of dark-

fallacy of interpretation

!

since in

one

noble hne of his invocation he has contradicted the assumptions of the

rest,

and acknowledged the presence of a

less severe

because eternal

?

How

subjection, surely not

could he otherwse

?

since

if

there


THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

166

be any one principle more widely than another confessed by every utterance, or

more

sternly than another imprinted

the visible creation, that principle

is

on every atom, of

not Liberty, but Law,

n. The enthusiast would reply that by Liberty he meant the Law Then why use the single and misunderstood word ? If

of Liberty.

by Hberty you mean chastisement of the passions, discipline of the if you mean the fear of inflicting, the intellect, subjection of the will shame of committing, a wrong if you mean respect for all who are venein authority, and consideration for all who are in dependence ration for the good, mercy to the evil, sympathy with the weak if you mean watchfulness over all thoughts, temperance in all pleasures, and perseverance in all toils if you mean, in a word, that Service ;

;

;

;

;

which

is

defined in the liturgy of the English church to be perfect

Freedom, why do you name

this by the same word by which the and the reckless mean change by which the rogue means rapine, and the fool, equahty, by which the proud mean anarchy, and the malignant mean violence ? Call it by any name rather than this, but its best and truest is. Obedience. Obedience is, indeed, founded on a kind of fi'eedom, else it would become mere subjugation, but that freedom is only gi-anted that obedience may be more perfect and thus, while a measure of hcense is neces-

luxurious

mean

license,

;

;

sary to exhibit the indi\'idual energies of things, the fairness and pleasantness and perfection of

them

Compare a river that has burst them, and the clouds that are

its

all

banks

consist in their Restraint. \vith

one that

bound by

is

scattered over the face of the whole

heaven with those that are marshalled into ranks and orders by its winds. So that though restraint, utter and unrelaxing, can never be comely, this is not because it is in itself an evil, but only because,

when

too gTeat,

it

overpowers the nature of the thing restrained, and

so counteracts the other laws of

And

which that nature

composed.

is itself

between and hemg in the things governed and the laws of general sway to which they are subjected and the suspension or the balance wherein consists the fairness of creation

is

the laws of Hfe

;

infringement of either kind of law,

or, literally, disorder, is

equivalent

and synonymous \\dth, disease while the increase of both honor and beauty is habitually on the side of restraint or the action of supeto,

;

rior law) rather

than of character (or the action of inherent law).

noblest word in the catalogue of social virtue est whicli

men have learned

is

The

"Loyalty," and the sweet-

in the pastm-es of the wilderness

is

" Fold."


THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

UL

Nor

is

this all

but we

;

may

1G7

observe, that exactly in propor-

tion to the majesty of things in the scale of being, is the complete-

ness of their obedience to the laws that are set over them. tation is

is less

Gravi-

obeyed by a grain of dust than it and the ocean falls and flows under influ-

quietly, less instantly

by the sun and moon

;

So also in estimating the dignity of any action or occupation of men, there is perhaps no better test than the question " are its laws strait ?" For ences which the lake and river do not recognise.

their severity will probably be

the numbers whose labor

commensurate with the greatness of

concentrates or whose interest

it

it

concerns.

This severity must be singular, therefore, in the case of that

above

all others,

common

which requires

;

of men, and for

And

tions.

art,

whose productions are the most vast and the most its

for its practice the co-operation of bodies

perfection the perseverance of successive genera-

takinof into account also

what we have before so

often

observed of Architecture, her continual influence over the emotions of daily

life,

and her

realism, as opposed to the

two sister arts which and of dreams, we

are in comparison but the picturing of stories

might beforehand expect that we should find her healthy state and that the action dependent on far more severe laws than theirs hcense which they, extend to the workings of individual mind would :

be withdra^vTl by her

;

and

that, in

assertion of the relations which

man, she would set by her own majestic subjection, some likeness of that on which man's social happiness and power depend. We might, therefore,

she holds

'svith all

that

is

universally important to

forth,

without the hght of experience, conclude, that Architecture never could flourish except

and

when

was subjected

it

as minutely authoritative as the

policy,

and

social relations

;

nay, even

to a national law as strict

laws which regulate religion,

more

authoritative than these,

because both capable of more enforcement, as over more passive natter o*ie

;

and needing more enforcement,

law nor of another, but of the

in this

as the purest type not of

common

authority of

matter experience speaks more loudly than reason.

all.

But

If there

be any one condition wliich, in watching the progress of architecif, amidst the counter evidence of ture, we see distinct and general ;

and circumstance, any one conclusion may be constantly and indisputably drawn, it is

success attending opposite accidents of character

this

;

that the architecture of a nation

umversal and as established as

its

is

great only

language

;

when

and when

it is

as

provincial


THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

1G8

diflferences of style are

nothing more than so

doubt

necessities are matters of

m

:

many

and of wealth in times of and of refinement undei or the most arbitrary but this ono

their architecture in times of poverty

war and of peace

;

;

in times of barbarism

governments the most

liberal

;

;

condition has been constant, this one requirement clear in

and

at all times, that the

work

Otliei

dialects.

nations have been alike successful

shall

all

places

be that of a school^ that no indi-

vidual caprice shall disjDense with, or materially vary, accepted types

and customary decorations and that from the cottage to the palace, and fi'om the chapel to the basilica, and from the garden fence to the fortress wall, every member and feature of the architecture of the ;

nation shall be as

guage or

commonly

current, as frankly accepted, as

its

lan-

its coin.

A

day never passes without our hearing om* English archiupon to be original, and to invent a new style about as sensible and necessary an exhortation as to ask of a man who has never had rags enough on his back to keep out cold, to invent a new IV.

tects called

mode

:

of cutting a coat.

Give him a whole coat

concern himself about the fashion of

it

and

first,

afterwards.

We

let

him

want no

Who wants a new style of painting or But we want some style. It is of marvellously little importance, if we have a code of laws and they be good laws,

new

style of architecture.

sculpture

?

whether they be new or Korman or English laws. we should have a code of

old, foreign or native,

But

it is

Roman

or Saxon, or

of considerable importance that

laws of one kind or another, and that code

accepted and enforced fi'om one side of the island to another, and

not one law Exeter.

And

made ground in like

of

manner

judgment

it

at

York and another in

does not matter one marble splinter

whether we have an old or new architecture, but thing whether is,

we have an

it

matters eveiy-

architecture truly so called or not

;

that

whether an architectm'e whose laws might be taught at our

schools

from Cornwall to Northumberland, as we teach English

spelling

and English grammar,

invented fresh every time

There seems to

me

we

or an architecture v/hich

is

to be

build a workhouse or a parish school.

to be a wonderful misunderstanding

among

the

majority of architects at the present day as to the very nature and

meaning of

and of all wherein it consists. Originality depend on invention of new words nor origi-

Originality,

in expression does not

uality in poetry

on invention of new measures

;

;

nor, in painting, oe


;;;

THE LAMP OP OBEDIENCE.

new

invention of

colors, or

new modes

harmonies of

of music, the

The chords

of using them.

general

the

color,

169

principles of the

arrangement of sculptural masses, have been determined long ago, and, in all probability, cannot be added to any more than they can be

much more

are

may

Granting that they

altered.

be,

We

dual inventoi*s.

may have one Van new

as the introducer of a

and the use of that invention

who

be known

will

but he him-

some accidental bye-play or pursuit depend altogether on the popular

will

necessities or instincts of the period.

A man

Eyck,

style once in ten centuries,

self vvdll trace his invention to

of the kind.

such additions or alterations

the work of time and of multitudes than of indivi-

who has

the

Originality depends on nothing

gift, will

take up any style that

is

going, the style of his day, and will work in that, and be great in that,

and make everything that he does in it look it had just come down from heaven.

as fresh as

thought of

he

not take

will

liberties

if

every

do not say that

I

with his materials, or with his rules

I

:

do

not say that strange changes will not sometimes be wrought by his efforts,

or his fancies, in both.

tive, natural, facile,

sought

But those changes

though sometimes marvellous

after as things necessary to his dignity or to his

and those

liberties will

be hke the

liberties that

with the language, not a defiance of larity

;

its

but inevitable, uncalculated, and express

effort to

not.

will

of an art

is

hmitations

rules for the sake of singu-

consequences of an

brilliant

infi-action,

could

be times when, as I have above described, the

manifested in

:

independence

a gTeat speaker takes

what the language, without such

may

There

be instruc-

they will never be

;

its

changes, and in

its

so there are in the hfe of an insect

interest in the state of

;

life

refusal of ancient

and there

is

great

both the art and the insect at those periods

when, by their natural progress and constitutional power, such changes are about to be ^vl'ought. But as that would be both an uncomfortable and foolish caterpillar which, instead of being contented with a caterpillar's

always striving to turn

life

and feeding on

itself into

a chrysalis

an unhappy chrysalis which should

lie

;

awake

lessly in its cocoon, in efforts to turn itself

as that

was would be

and

roll rest-

caterpillar's food,

and

at night

prematurely into a moth

unhappy and unprosperous which, instead of supon the food, and contenting itself with the customs which have been enough for the support and guidance of other arts before it and like it, is struggling and fretting un ier the nutui'al so will that art be

porting

itself

S


; ;

THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

170 limitations of

than

existence,

its

And though

it is.

look forward

appointed

for

to,

and

it is

and partly

become sometliing other

striving to

the lobiUty of the highest creatures to

which are and if, as is

to understand the changes

them, preparing

them beforehand

for

;

usual with appointed changes, they be into a higher state, even

and

desiring them,

rejoicing in the

strength of every creature, be

it

hope of them, yet

time being, contented with the conditions of

only to bring about the changes -which uttermost the duties for which

it

is

the

changeful or not, to rest for the

it

its

existence,

desires,

by

present state

its

is

and

striving

fulfilling to

the

appointed and

continued.

V. Neither

may

be,

and

originality, therefore, this

is

nor change, good though both

commonly a most

merciful

and

enthusiastic

supposition with respect to either, are ever to be sought in themselves,

by any struggle or rebelhon against want neither the one nor the other. The forms of architectm-e already known are good enough for us, and for far and it will be time enough to think of better than any of us changing them for better when we can use them as they are. But there are some things which we not only want, but cannot do without and which all the strugghng and ra\ing in the world, nay more, which all the real talent and resolution in England, will never enable us to do without and these are Obedience, Unity, Fellowship and Order. And all our schools of design, and committees of taste all the all our academies and lectures, and journalisms, and essays sacrifices which w^e are beginning to make, all the truth which there is in our Enghsh nature, all the power of our English will, and the or can ever be healthily obtained

common

We

laws.

:

:

;

life

of our Eno-lish intellect, will in this matter be as useless as efforts

and emotions in a di'eam, unless we are contented to submit architecture and all art, like other things, to English law. VI. I say architecture and all art for I beheve architecture must be the beginning of arts, and that the others must follow her in their time and order and I think the prosperity of our schools of painting and sculpture, in which no one will deny the life, though many the I think that all will health, depends upon that of our architecture. languish until that takes the lead, and (this I do not think^ out I proclaim, as confidently as I would assert the necessity, for the safety of society, of an understood and strongly administered legal government) our architecture will imguish, and that in the very dust, until ;

;


â&#x20AC;˘

THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE. tne

of

jjrinciDie

fi3*st

common

sense be manfully obeyed, and an and workmansliip be everywliere adopted

tmiversal system of form

and enforced. I fear it

is

bihty of

it

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

may be said that this is impossible. It may be so have nothing to do with the possibility or impossisimply know and assert the necessity of it. If it be It

so ;

l*J\

:

I

I

impossible, English art

Give

impossible.

is

up

it

wasting time, and money, and energy upon

You

at once.

are

and though you (Exhaust centuries and treasuries, and break hearts for it, you will never raise it above the merest dilettanteism. Think not of it. It is a dangerous vanity, a mere gulph in which genius after genius will be swallowed up, and it will not close. And so it will continue to be, unless the one bold and broad step be taken at the beginnino*.

We shall not manufecture shaU not reason out art

art

art out of pottery

by our philosophy

by our experiments, nor

that

we can even

a chance

build

for us in these,

it

create

it

we

;

it,

and printed shall not

by our fancies

and there

is

none

else

;

I

:

out of brick and stone

;

stuffs

;

we

stumble upon

do not say but there

is

and that chance

on the bare possibihty of obtaining the consent, both of archiand of the pubhc, to choose a style, and to use it universally. Vn. How surely its principles ought at first to be limited, we

rests

tects

may

determine by the consideration of the necessary modes

easily

When we

of teaching any other branch of general knowledge. beg-in

to

teach

children

writing,

we

force

them

to

absolute

copyism, and require absolute accuracy in the formation of the as they obtain

we

^'^.i.^ot

command

of the received

modes of

prevent then- falling into such variations as

ai-e

with their feeling, their circumstances, or their characters.

a boy

is fii'st

taught to write Latin, an authority

for every expression

may

he uses

;

as

is

letters

â&#x20AC;˘

hteral expression,

consistent

So,

when him

required of

he becomes master of the language he

take a license, and feel his right to do so without any authority,

and yet

when he borrowed every separate way our architects would have to be taught

write better Latin than

expression.

In the same

'

to write the accepted style.

are to be considered consti'uction

classes the

in their authority

and laws of proportion

penetrating care tions are to

We must first determine what buildings

Augustan

;

;

their

modes of most

are to be studied with the

then the different forms and uses of their decora-

be classed and catalogued, as a German grammarian

powers of prepositions

gable authority,

we

;

are to begin to

and under this absolute, irrefraadmitting not so much work ;


;•::

THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

172 as

an alteration

depth of a cavetto. or the "breadth of a

in the

Then, when our sight

is

fillet.

once accustomed to the gTamrDatical forms

and arrangements, and our thoiights f^iiniliar with the expression of them all when we can speak this dead language naturally, aiid apply it to whatever ideas we have to render, that is to sav, to everv practical purpose of life then, and not till then, a license might be permitted and individual authority allowed to change or to add to the received the decorations, especially, might forms, always within certain limits be made subjects of variable fancy, and enriched with ideas either ;

;

;

from other schools. and by a great national movement, original or taken

And

thus in process of time

might come

it

to pass, that a

new style should arise, as language itself changes we might perhaps come to speak Italian instead of Latin, or to speak modern instead ;

of old

English

and a matter,

;

this would be a matter c£ which no determination or

but

besides,

entire

indifference,

desire could either

That alone which it is in our power to obtain, and which it is our duty to desire, is an unanimous style of some kind, and such com[»rehension and practice of it as would enable us

hasten or prevent.

to

adapt

its

features

the

to

character of every several

peculiar

building, large or small, domestic,

ei^^l,

or ecclesiastical.

I

have said

was immaterial what style was adopted, so far as regards the room for originality which its development would admit it is not so, however, when we take into consideration the far more important questions of the fiscility of adaptation to general purposes, and of the sympathy with which this or that style would be popularly regarded. The choice of Classical or Gothic, again using ine Ir.'^+'^r term in its broadest sense, may be questionable when it regards some that

it

:

single

and considerable public building

questionable, for an instant, I

when

but I cannot conceive

;

it

regards modern uses in general

cannot conceive any architect insane enough to project the vulgari-

zation of

Greek architecture.

Neither can

whether we should adopt early or if

it

the latter were chosen,

degradation, like our

laws

it

it

must be

own Tudor,

would be neaily impossible

Flamboyant. tially infantine

We

or derivalive Gothic

some impotent and ugly a style whose grammatical

to limit or arrange, like the

French

are equally precluded fi-om adopting styles essen-

or barbarous,

The

be rationally questionable

either

or else

howevr Herculean own Norman,

majestic their outlawry, such as our

Romanesque.

it

late, original

choice

would

lie

their

infancy, or

or the

Lombard

I think between four styles

:


THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE. 1.

The lisan Romanesque;

2.

The

l73

early Gothic of the

Itahan Repubhcs, advanced as far and as

fast as

Western

our art would enable

3. The Venetian Gothic in its purest The Enghsh earhest decorated. The most natural, perhaps the safest choice, would be of the last, well fenced from

us to the Gothic of Giotto develoj^ment

chance of

;

;

4.

again stiffening into the

perpendicular

and perhaps

;

enriched by some mingling of decorative elements from the exquisite

decorated Gothic of France, of which, in such cases, needful to accept

Rouen and authorities

VIII. It state of

some

well

known examples,

it

would be

as the I^orth door of

the church of St. Urbain at Troyes, for final and hmiting

on the side of decoration. is

almost impossible

us to conceive, in our jDresent

for

doubt and ignorance, the sudden dawn of intelligence and

fancy, the rapidly increasing sense of

power and facihty, and, in its wholesome restraint would

pi'oper sense^ of Freedom, which such

instantly cause throughout the whole circle of the arts.

Freed

fi'om

the agitation and embarrassment of that liberty of choice which

is

freed from the

the cause of half the discomforts of the w^orld;

accompanying necessity of studying all past, present, or even possible styles; and enabled, by concentration of individual, and co-operation of multitudinous energy, to penetrate into the uttermost secrets

of the adopted style, the architect would

find

his

whole

understanding enlarged, his practical knowledge certain and ready to hand,

and

his imagination playful

be within a walled garden,

were

left free in

and

^â&#x20AC;˘igorous, as

interest,

\'irtue, it

a child's would

down and shudder if he many and how bright would

sit

How

a fenceless plain.

be the results in every direction of to national happiness

and

who would

not to the arts merely, but

would be

as difficult to preconceive

would seem extravagant to state but the first, perhaps the least, of them would be an increased sense of fellowship among ourselves, a cementing of every patriotic bond of union, a proud and hrjppy recognition of our affection for and sympathy with each other,

as

it

:

and our willingness

in all things

to submit ourselves to every law

community a barrier, also, unhappy rivalry of the upper and middle and even a check classes, in houses, furniture, and establishments to much of what is as vain as it is painful in the oppositions of These, I say, would be religious parties respecting matters of ritual.

that could advance the interest of the

;

the best conceivable, to the

;

the

first

consequences.

Economy

increased tenfold, as

it

would \h


;

THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

174

by the simplicity of practice domestic comforts aninterfered witli by the caprice and mistakes of architects ignorant of the capacities of the styles they use, and all the symmetry and sighthness of out ;

harmonized

streets

and public buildings, are things of slighter account But it would be mere enthusiasm to

in the catalogue of benefits.

endeavor to trace them farther. I have suffered myself too long to indulge in the speculative statement of requirements which perhaps we have more immediate and more serious work than to supply, and of feelings which

it

may

be only contingently in our power to recover.

what

I should be unjustly thought unaware of the difficulty of

I

have

proposed, or of the unimportance of the whole subject as compared

with

many which

are brought

our consideration by the difficulty

home

to our interests

Avild course of

and of importance

it is

for others to judge.

myself to the simple statement of what, architecture, we must primarily endeavor to

may not be desirable for many who feel it to be so

it

and

if

I

we

us to have architecture at

many who

have hmited

desire

and do

feel

:

to

have

but then

There are

all.

much

upon But of

fixed

the present century.

end and their fives disquieted in vain. I have stated, therefore, the only ways in which that end is attainable, without venturing even to express an opinion as to its real I have an opinion, and the zeal with which I have desirableness. spoken may sometimes have betrayed it, but I hold to it with no I know too well the undue importance which the study confidence. that every man follows must assume in his own eyes, to trust my own impressions of the dignity of that of Architecture and yet I

and

I

am

;

sacrifice

to that

sorry to see their energies wasted

;

think I cannot be utterly mistaken in regarding in the sense of a National

employment.

impression by what I see passing instant.

among

I

am

it

as at least useful

confirmed in this

the states of Eiu-ope at this

All the horror, distress, and tumult which

foreign nations, are traceable,

among

oppress

the

the other secondary causes

through which God is working out His will upon them, to the simple one of their not having enough to do. I am not- bhnd to the distress among their operatives nor do I deny the nearer and visibly active ;

causes of the revolt, the

movement

absence of

:

the recklessness of villany in the leaders of

common moral

principle in the upper classes,

and of common courage and honesty in the heads of governments. But these causes themselves are ultimately traceable to a deeper and the recklessness of the demagogue, the immorality of simpler one :


;

THE LAMP OF OBEDIEXCE. the middle

class,

175

and the effeminacy and treachery of the noble, are commonest and most fruitful

traceable in all these nations to the

cause of calamity in households

bettering

who

will take either

mental

We

idleness.

think too

much

in

efforts,

mean work

not

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

more multiplied and more vain day by day, of men by giving them advice and instruction. There are few

our benevolent

interest

the chief thing they need

:

in the sense of bread,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

I

is

occupation.

mean work

do

I

in the sense of

who either are placed above the necessity who will not work although they should. of idle energy among European nations at

for those

;

of labor for their bread, or

There

a vast quantity

is

this time,

which ought to go into handicrafts there are multitudes who ought to be shoemakers and carpenters ;

of idle semi-gentlemen

but since they

will

not be these so long as they can help

business of the philanthropist

is

than disturbing governments. fools,

and that they

as well as others

mischief

;

:

will only if

It

is

make

the

themselves miserable in the end

they have nothing

and the man who

it,

them some other employment of no use to tell them they are

to find

will

else to do,

not work, and

who

they will do has no means

become an instrument of e\il as I have myself seen enough of the daily life of the young educated men of France and Ital^ ^^ account for, as it deserves, the deepest national suffering and degradation and though, for the most part, our commerce and our natural habits of industry preserve us from a similar paralysis, yet it would be wise to consider whether the forms of employment which we chiefly adopt or promote, are as well calculated as they might be of intellectual pleasure,

if

is

as sure to

he had sold himself bodily to Satan.

,

;

to

improve and elevate

We

us.

have just spent,

with which

for instance,

we have paid men

and depositing

it

in another.

for

a hundred and

fifty

millions,

digging ground fi'om one place

We have formed a large class of men,

the railway navvies, especially reckless, unmanageable, and dangerous.

We

have maintained besides

(let

us state the benefits as fairly as

number of iron founders in an unhealthy and painful employment we have developed (this is at least good) a very large amount of mechanical ingenuity and we have, in fine, attained the power of going fast fi'om one place to another. Meantime we have had no mental interest or concern ourselves in the operations we have possible) a

;

;

set

on

foot,

existence.

but have been

left

to the usual vanities

Suppose, on the other hand, that

and cares of oui

we had employed

thÂŤ


THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

176

same sums

and churches. Wa should men, not in diiN-ing wheelnot intellectual, employment

in biiildin v beautiful Louses

have maintained the barrows, but in a

same number

of

distinctl}^ technical, if

and those who were more intelligent among them would have been especially happy in that employment, as having room in it for the development of their fancy, and being dhected by it to that observation of beauty which, associated with the pursuit of natural science, at present forms the enjoyment of many of the more intelligeiit

Of mechanical

manufacturing operatives. imagine, at least as

much

there

ingenuity,

I

is,

required to build a catheckal as to cut a

tunnel or contrive a locomotive

:

we

should, therefore, have developed

element of intellect would have been added to the gain. Meantime we should ourselves have been made happier and waser by the interest we should have taken in the work wdth which we were personally concerned and when all was done, instead of the veiy doubtful advantage of the power of going as

much

science, wliile the artistical

;

fast

from place

to place,

we should have had

the certain advantage

of increased pleasure in stopping at home. IX. There are many other less capacious, but

more

constant,

in

their

beneficial

channels

tendency; and we inquiring,

quite

of expenditure,

\^-ith

are,

respect

customary apphance of

disputable

as

perhaps, hardly enough in the habit of

any particular form of luxury or any

to

hfe,

whether the kind of employment

it

gives to the operative or the dependant be as healthy and fitting an

employment as we might otherwise provide for him. It is not enough to find men absolute subsistence we should think of the manner of life which our demands necessitate and endeavor, as far as may be, to make all our needs such as may, in the supply of them, raise, as well as feed, the poor. It is far better to give work ;

;

above the men, than to educate the men to be above their work. It may be doubted, for instance, whether the habits of luxury, which necessitate a large train of men servants, be a wholesome forai of expenditure and more, whether the pursuits which

which

is

;

have a tendency to enlarge the class of the jockey and the groom be a philanthropic form of mental occupation. So again, considei the large number of men wdiose hves are employed by civilized nations in cutting facets

upon

jewels.

hand, patience, and ingenuity thus

burned out

in

the

blaze of the

There

is

much

dexterity of

bestowed, which

tiara, witliout,

so

far

are as

sunply I

see,


THE LAMP OF OBEDIENCE.

171

any pleasure upon those wlio wear or wlio behold, at all for the loss of life and mental power wliich are He would be far involved in the employment of the workman. more healthily and happily sustained by being set to carve stone certain qualities of his mind, for which there is no room in his lestoAviiig

compensatory

;

would develope themselves in the nobler and I most women would, in the end, prefer the pleasure of hanng built a church, or contributed to the adornment of a cathedral, to the pride of bearing a certain quantity of adamant on jjresent occupation,

;

believe that

their foreheads.

X.

I could pursue this subject AviUingly,

notions about I content

it

which

myself with

it

is

but I have some strange

perhaps w^ser not loosely to set down.

finally reasserting,

what has been throughout

the burden of the preceding pages, that whatever rank, or whatever

importance,

may

subject, there

is

be attributed or attached to their immediate some value in the analogies with which its

at least

pursuit has presented us, and reference of

its

commonest

sense and scope of v,hich

some

instruction

necessities to the all

men

ai'e

in

mighty

Builders,

the

fi-equent

laws, in the

whom

every hour

sees laying the stubble or the stone. I have paused, not once nor twice, as I wrote, and often have checked the course of what might otherwise have been importunate persuasion, as the thought has crossed me, how soon all Architecture may be vain, except that which is not made with hands. There is

something ominous in the light which has enabled us to look back with disdain upon the ages among whose lovely vestiges we have been wandering. of many, at the effort

;

as

if

w^e

I could smile

new reach

when

I hear the hopeful exultation

of worldly science, and vigor of worldly

were again at the beginning of days. There is The sun was' risen upoD

thunder on the horizon as well as dawn. the earth

when Lot

entered into Zoar.

?'


NOTES. 1.

Page

12. "

With

the

idolatrous

indeed slight in comparison, but

one which

is

it

on the increase.

daily

Egyptian^

have confidence

I

it.

probability

I

speak lightly of the

in the central religious

body of the

English and Scottish people, as being not only untainted with ism, but

immoveably adverse

to

it

:

among

Roman-

and, however strangely and swiftly

the heresy of the Protestant and victory of the Papist

extending

ia

may not be thought

I trust that I

to underrate the danger of such sympathy, though

chance of

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;The

a probability nevertheless, and

is

may seem

to

be

us, I feel assured that there are barriers in the living

Yet

which neither can overpass.

faith of this nation

this confidence is

only in the ultimate faithfulness of a few, not in the security of the

Both

nation from the sin and the punishment of partial apostasy.

some

have, indeed, in in expressing

my

sort,

been committed and suffered already

belief of the close connection of the distress

burden which the mass of the people

encouragement which,

me

Papist, do not let

was ever more

many

be

at

No man

both by natural disposition and by

I,

of early association, to a sympathy with the principles and

ties

;

and there

is

much

which conscientiously, as well as sympathetically, But,

advocate.

m

surely I vindicate entire doctrine ;

more respect

for

my

in its discipline

could love and

firmly expressed belief, that the

and system of that Church

that its

I

confessing this strength of affectionate prejudice,

lying and idolatrous

is in

Power

that ever held commission to hurt the Earth for unity

and

been given to the

called superstitious or irrational.

inclined than

and,

present sustain, with the

directions, has

in various

forms of the Romanist Church

Christian

;

;

the fullest sense antiis

the darkest plague

that all those yearnings

and fellowship, and common obedience, which have been the


180

NOTES.

root of our late heresies, are as false in their grounds as fatal in theil termination

;

that

we never can have

the remotest fellowship with

utterers of that fearful Falsehood, and live

look to from them but treacherous hostility

and

;

thfe

we have nothing

that

;

to

that, exactly in pro-

portion to the sternness of our separation from them, will be not only the spiritual but the temporal blessings granted by

God

How

between the degree

close has been the correspondence hitherto

Romanism marked

of resistance to

our national

in

to this country.

acts,

and the honor

with which those acts have been crowned, has been sufficiently proved in a short essay

by a writer whose investigations

into the influence of

Religion upon the fate of Nations have been singularly earnest and successful

England arms

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;a

will

whom

writer with

faithfully

I

and firmly believe that

never be prosperous again, and that the honor of her

and her commerce blighted, and her national

will be tarnished,

character degraded, until the Romanist

has impiously been conceded to him

is

expelled from the place which

among

"

her legislators.

whom error is an inheritance, woe be whom it is an adoption. If England, free

What-

ever be the lot of those to

to the

man and

above

all

the people to

other nations, sustained amidst the trials which have covered Europe,

before her eyes, with burning and slaughter, and enlightened by the fullest

knowledge of divine

truth, shall refuse fidelity to the

compact

by which those matchless privileges have been given, her condemna-

She has already made one step

tion will not linger.

She has committed the

capital

hangs over the edge of the empire

is

but a name.

deepening on

all

precipice.

In the clouds

human

policy

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

discern where the

power yet

constitution once more.

It

Heaven"

it

special

recommend

punishment

and perhaps, of

all

is

means

faithless

in sincerity

;

and

of the help of

The

Fortress of Christianity,"

by the Deity upon

to

and despairing, the

left destitute

to the meditation of those inflicted

difficult

majesty of the

by the Rev. Dr. Croly, 1842).

of these essays, " England the earnestly

may be even

are mighty

never be

itself will

foot already

retracted, or the

lives to erect the fallen

But there

(Historical Essays,

must be

gathering tumults of Europe,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

no miracle was ever wrought for the

country that will help

of danger.

and darkness which seem to be

in the

and the feverish discontents at home

if

Her

which was a purely religious one.

political question

full

error of mistaking that for a purely

who doubt all

I

first

most that a

national crime,

such crime, most instantly upon the betrayal, on


T

NOTES.

181

the part of England of the truth and faith with which she has been entrusted.

''Not the gift, but the giving.'"

2. p. 16.

been directed to the subject of religious session of

it

real religion

?

and we are now

kinds of interpretations and classifications of

all

the leading foots of

nected with

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;Much attention has

art,

But

its history.

What good

remains entirely unanswered,

There

is

no subject into which

I

and of

it,

the greatest question of

did

lately

in pos-

con-

all it

do

to

should so much rejoice

to see a serious and conscientious inquiry instituted as this; an inquiry,

neither undertaken in artistical enthusiasm nor in

but dogged, merciless, and fearless. well as most men, but there as a manifestation

is

a wide difference between loving

of individual feeling,

instrument of popular benefit.

I

and looking to

this latter point,

be most grateful to any one who would put

There

are, as

first.

seems

it

What

to

it

as

it

an

have not knowledge enough to

form even the shadow of an opinion on

the

monkish sympathy,

love the religious art of Italy as

I

in

it

and

my power

I

should

to do so.

me, three distinct questions to be considered:

has been the effect of external splendor on the genuine-

ness and earnestness of Christian worship

What

the second,

?

of pictorial or sculptural representation

in

the

the use

communication of

Christian historical knowledge, or excitement of affectionate imaginathe third.

tion

?

the

life

What

of the artist

the influence of the practice of religious art on

?

In answering these inquiries,

we should have

every collateral influence and circumstance analysis, to eliminate the real effect of art

abuses with which Christian

;

not a

it

was

associated.

man who would

fall

sweet expression, but who would look as the object of

all.

It

;

to consider separately

and, by a

from the

most subtle

effects

of the

This could be done only bv a in

love with a sweet color or

for true faith

and consistent

life

never has been done yet, and the question

remains a subject of vain and endless contention between parties of opposite prejudices and temperaments.

3. p. 17.

" To the concealment of what

have often been surprised

is

really good or greats

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Romanism, in its present condition, could either patronise art or profit by it. The noble painted windows of St. Maclou at Rouen, and many other churches in at the supposition that


182

NOTES.

France, are entirely blocked up behind the altars by the erection of

huge gilded wooden sunbeams, with interspersed cherubs. "

4. p. 23.

certainly not

With

different pattern

in

of traceries

examined the seven hundred and four

each niche) so as to be sure that none are alike

each.''^

have

I

(four to

traceries

but they have the

;

aspect of continual variation, and even the roses of the pendants of the

small groined niche roofs are

" Its Jlamhoyant traceries of the last

6. p. 32.

forms.^''

of different patterns.

all

and most degraded

—They are noticed by Mr. VVhewell as forming the when

the fleur-de-lis, always a mark,

debased flamboyant.

It

most

occurs in the central tower of Bayeux, very

and

richly in the buttresses of St. Gervais at Falaise,

niches of

some of the domestic buildings

tower of

St.

Ouen which

is

overrated.

at

Its

nave

is

piers are barbarisms; there

the small

in

Nor

Rouen.

is it

only the

a base imitation, in

the flamboyant period, of an early Gothic arrangement its

figure of

tracery bars, of the

in

the niches

;

on

a huge square shaft run through the

is

ceiling of the aisles to support the nave piers, the ugliest excrescence I

ever saw on a Gothic building insipid

the traceries of the nave are the most and faded flamboyant; those of the transept clerestory present ;

a singularly distorted condition of perpendicular

door of the south transept grotesque

in its foliation

is,

for

its fine

and pendants.

even the elaborate

;

period, extravagant

There

is

the church but the choir, the light triforium, and circle

and almost

nothing truly fine in tall

clerestory, the

of Eastern chapels, the details of sculpture, and the general

lightness

of

proportion

;

merits being seen to

these

the

advantage by the freedom of the body of the church from

utmost all

in-

cumbrance.

6.

Compare

p. 33.

1.

219. with

Odyssey Q.

" Does not admit iron as a constructive

7. p. 34.

in

Iliad E.

1.

maleriaV

Chaucer's noble temple of Mars. "

And dounward Ther stood

Wrought

Was

from an

hill

under a bent,

the temple of Mars, armipotent.

all

of burned

longe and

streite,

stele,

of which

and gastly

th'

5—10.

entree

for to see.

—Ex cept


:

NOTES.

And

came a rage and swiche a

thereout

That

The

it

183

made

all

the gates for to

vise.

rise.

northern light in at the dore shone.

For window on

the wall ne was ther none, Thurgh which men mighten any light disceme. The dore was all of athamant eterne,

Yclenched overthwart and endelong

With yren tough, and Every

Was

piler the

make

for to

it

strong.

temple to sustene

tonne-gret, of yren bright and shene."

The Knighie's

There

by the bye, an exquisite piece of

is,

Tale.

architectural color just

before

"

And

northward, in a turret on the wall

Of

alabaster white,

An

oratorie riche for to see,

and red

corall.

In worship of Diane of Chastitee."

ÂŤ The Builders of Salisbury:'â&#x20AC;&#x201D;'' This way of tying walla 8. p. 34. together with iron, instead of making them of that substance and form, that they shall naturally poise themselves upon their buttment, is

against the rules of ruptible

by

rust,

some places of

the metal,

others, and yet all

dral in 1668,

work

good

architecture, not only because iron is cor-

but because

sound

the

it

is

tower with

having unequal veins in

Survey of Salisbury Cathe-

to appearance."

by Sir C. Wren.

to bind a

fallacious,

same bar being three times stronger than

iron,

For

my own

part, I think

it

better

dome by

a brick

than to support a false

pyramid.

9.

p. 48.

dows, but

Plate

3.

fig. 2. is

3, are in triforia,

In this plate, figures

4, 5,

and

6, are

glazed win-

the open light of a belfry tower, and figures

the latter also occurring

filled,

1,

and

on the central tower

of Coutances.

10. p. 79.

"

Ornaments of the transect towers ofRouenP

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;The reader

cannot but observe the agreeableness, as a mere arrangement of shade,

which especially belongs to the " sacred the element of foliation has been

trefoil."

enough

insisted

I

do not think that

upon

in its intimate


184

NOTES.

relations with the

the

most

power of Gothic work.

distinctive

Trefoil.

It is

feature

of

its

If I

perfect

the very soul of it; and

were asked what was

style, I

should say the

think the loveliest Gothic

I

always formed upon simple and bold tracings of

it,

is

taking place

between the blank lancet arch on the one hand, and the overcharged cinquefoiled arch on the other. ^^

11. p. 79.

And

levelled

cusps of stoned

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; The plate represents one

of the lateral windows of the third story of the Palazzo Foscari.

was drawn from its traceries

effect.

central

It

the opposite side of the

are therefore given as ihey appear

shows only segments of the

windows.

ingly simple.

Two

circle.

Grand Canal, and the

I

Four

drawn

tangential lines are then

enclosinof the four circles in a

somewhat

of

distant

characteristic quatrefoils of the

found by measurement circles are

in

It

lines

in

their construction exceed-

contact within the large

drawn

to

An

hollow cross.

each opposite

pair,

inner circle struck

through the intersections of the circles by the tangents, truncates the cusps.

12. p. 107.

^^

Into vertical equal parts"

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Not absolutely

There

so.

are variations partly accidental (or at least compelled by the architect's effort to

recover the vertical), between the sides of the stories

upper and lower story are

taller

apparent equality between

five

13. p. 114.

" iVeier paint a

There

than the rest.

out of the eight

column with

is,

;

and the

however, an

tiers.

vertical

lines.''''

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

It sliould

be observed, however, that any pattern which gives opponent lines in its parts,

may be arranged on

Thus, rows of diamonds,

lines parallel with the

like spots

main structure.

on a snake's back, or the bones on

a sturgeon, are exquisitely applied both to vertical and spiral columns.

The

loveliest instances of such decoration that I

know, are the

pillars

of the cloister of St. John Lateran, lately illustrated by Mr. Digby

Wyatt,

in his

14. p. 119.

most valuable and

On

faithful

the cover of this

figure outlines of the

Miniato at Florence.

volume the reader

same period and I

work on antique mosaic. will find

some

character, from the floor of

have to thank

its

designer, Mr.

W.

San

Harry

Rogers, for his intelligent arrangement of them, and graceful adaptation of the connecting arabesque.


!

!

!

!

!

NOTES.

ii.

all

sec.

their light, 1.

chap.

was

iv.

nor

of Greek art will not, his friends only

its music!'''

me by

trust,

I

of Pericles."

—This sul ordina-

a friend, whose profound knowledge

be reserved always for the advantage of

of the noblest

poems.''^

— Coleridge's

Ode

:

"

Ye

Clouds

Whose

that far above

!

me

float

and pause,

march no mortal may control

pathless

Ye Ocean-Waves

that wheresoe'er ye roll.

!

Yield homage only to eternal laws

Ye Woods

that listen to the night-birds singing,

!

Midway the smooth and perilous slope reclined. Save when your own imperious branches swinging. Have made a solemn music of the wind Where, like a man beloved of God, Through glooms, which never woodman trod.

How

My

oft,

pursuing fancies holy.

moonlight way Inspired,

By each

O

o'er flowering

And O

Waves

!

and

O

ye Clouds that

rising

Sun

Bear witness

ye Forests high

far

for

is

spirit

livest

Houses are

have

still

!

!

be.

adored

of divinest Liberty."

who by

I

!

soared

will be free

me, wheresoe'er ye

Noble verse, but erring thought " Slight those

me

above

and

With what deep worship

Thou

wound.

I

thou blue rejoicing Sky

!

Yea, everything that

The

weeds

beyond the guess of folly.

rude shape and wild unconquerable sound

ye loud

Thou

—Yet

Painters, vol

Mr. C. Newton, of the Brilish Museum.

" /n one

17. p. 165.

France

:

river

Compare Modern

music.

the artists of the time

remarked to

first

lost their lights the

all their

8.

\

By

'*

16. p. 159.

tion

The flowers

"

15. p. 147.

not

185

contrast George Herbert

say amidst their sickly healths.

rule.

built

:

What

doth not so but

man

by rule and Commonwealths.

?

:—

to


NOTES.

186 Entice the trusty sun,

**

From

his ecliptic line

Who

lives

that

if

you can,

beckon the sky.

;

by rule then, keeps good company.

Who

keeps no guard upon himself

And

rots to nothing at the next great

Man

is

Whose

a shop of rules

slack.

thaw

;

a well-truss'd pack

every parcel underwrites a law.

Lose not

God

:

is

thyself,

nor give thy humors

way

gave them to thee under lock and

fSM

RS&

;

key.**


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The Seven Lamps of Architecture John Ruskin 1849  

John Ruskin (1819-1900) English author and art critic and one of the major figures of the Victorian age, for over fifty years of his life wr...

The Seven Lamps of Architecture John Ruskin 1849  

John Ruskin (1819-1900) English author and art critic and one of the major figures of the Victorian age, for over fifty years of his life wr...

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