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
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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
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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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