file which includes the original illustrations4 ,see #cjgee-;h4htm or #cjgee-;h4zip3 7https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/cache_/epu b_/#cjgee_/pg#cjgee-;images4html7 or 7https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/files_/#cj gee_/cjgee-;h4zip7 ,library3 ,volume ,i--see https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/etext_/#cjg ed ,volume ,,iii--see https3_/_/www4gutenberg4org_/etext_/#cjg ef ,volume ,,iii contains the index for all three volumes4 ,the index in the html version of ,volume ,,iii has links to the the other two volumes4 ,transcriber's note3 ,a few typographical errors have been corrected4 ,they are listed at the end of the text4 ,characters following a caret were printed as superscript in the original4 ,for example1 ,sta2 here the a is a superscript4 ,library ,edition ,the ,complete ,works of ,john ,ruskin ,,stones ,,of ,,venice ,,volumes ,i-,,ii ,national ,library ,association ,new ,york ,chicago ,the ,complete ,works of ,john ,ruskin ,volume ,,viii ,,stones ,,of ,,venice ,,volume ,,ii ,,the ,,stones ,,of ,,venice ,,volume ,,ii4 ,the ,sea ,stories ,,advertisement4 ,it was originally intended that this ,work should consist of two volumes only2 the subject has extended to three4 ,the second volume1 however1 will conclude the account of the ancient architecture of ,venice4 ,the third will embrace the ,early1 the ,roman1 and the ,grotesque ,renaissance2 and an ,index1 which1 as it gives1 in alphabetical order1 a brief account of all the buildings in ,venice1 or references to the places where they are mentioned in the text1 will be found a convenient guide for the traveller4 ,in order to make it more serviceable1 ,i have introduced some notices of the pictures which ,i think most interesting in the various churches1 and in the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco4 ,,contents4 ,,first1 ,,or ,,byzantine1 ,,period4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,page ,the ,throne1 #a ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,torcello1 #aa ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,murano1 #bg ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,st4 ,mark's1 #eg ,,chapter ,v4 ,byzantine ,palaces1 #aah ,,second1 ,,or ,,gothic1 ,,period4 ,,chapter ,,vi4 ,the ,nature of ,gothic1 #aea ,,chapter ,,vii4 ,gothic ,palaces1 #bca ,,chapter ,,viii4 ,the ,ducal ,palace1 #bha ,,appendix4 #a4 ,the ,gondolier's ,cry1 #cge #b4 ,our ,lady of ,salvation1 #cgh #c4 ,tides of ,venice and ,measures at ,torcello1 #cgh #d4 ,date of the ,duomo of ,torcello1 #chj #e4 ,modern ,pulpits1 #chj #f4 ,apse of ,murano1 #chb #g4 ,early ,venetian ,dress1 #chc #h4 ,inscriptions at ,murano1 #chd #i4 ,shafts of ,st4 ,mark's1 #chd #aj4 ,proper ,sense of the ,word ,idolatry1 #chh #aa4 ,situations of ,byzantine ,palaces1 #cia #ab4 ,modern ,paintings on ,glass1 #cid ,,list ,,of ,,plates4 ,facing ,page ,plate #a4 ,plans of ,torcello and ,murano1 #ad #b4 ,the ,acanthus of ,torcello1 #ae #c4 ,inlaid ,bands of ,murano1 #dj #d4 ,sculptures of ,murano1 #db #e4 ,archivolt in the ,duomo of ,murano1 #de #f4 ,the ,vine1 ,free and in ,service1 #if #g4 ,byzantine ,capitals--,convex ,group1 #aca #h4 ,byzantine ,capitals--,concave ,group1 #acb #i4 ,lily ,capital of ,st4 ,mark's1 #acf #aj4 ,the ,four ,venetian ,flower ,order1 #acg #aa4 ,byzantine ,sculptures1 #ach #ab4 ,linear and ,surface ,gothic1 #bbd #ac4 ,balconies1 #bdg #ad4 ,the ,orders of ,venetian ,arches1 #bdh #ae4 ,windows of the ,second ,order1 #bed #af4 ,windows of the ,fourth ,order1 #beg #ag4 ,windows of the ,early ,gothic ,palaces1 #bei #ah4 ,windows of the ,fifth ,order1 #bff #ai4 ,leafage of the ,vine ,angle1 #cjh #bj4 ,leafage of the ,venetian ,capitals1 #cfh ,,the ,,stones ,,of ,,venice4 ,,first1 ,,or ,,byzantine1 ,,period4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,the ,,throne4 ,i4 ,in the olden days of travelling1 now to return no more1 in which distance could not be vanquished without toil1 but in which that toil was rewarded1 partly by the power of deliberate survey of the countries through which the journey lay1 and partly by the happiness of the evening hours1 when1 from the top of the last hill he had surmounted1 the traveller beheld the quiet village where he was to rest1 scattered among the meadows beside its valley stream2 or1 from the long-hoped-for turn in the dusty perspective of the causeway1 saw1 for the first time1 the towers of some famed city1 faint in the rays of sunset--hours of peaceful and thoughtful pleasure1 for which the rush of the arrival in the railway station is perhaps not always1 or to all men1 an equivalent1--in those days1 ,i say1 when there was something more to be anticipated and remembered in the first aspect of each successive halting-place1 than a new arrangement of glass roofing and iron girder1 there were few moments of which the recollection was more fondly cherished by the traveller than that which1 as ,i endeavored to describe in the close of the last chapter1 brought him within sight of ,venice1 as his gondola shot into the open lagoon from the canal of ,mestre4 ,not but that the aspect of the city itself was generally the source of some slight disappointment1 for1 seen in this direction1 its buildings are far less characteristic than those of the other great towns of ,italy2 but this inferiority was partly disguised by distance1 and more than atoned for by the strange rising of its walls and towers out of the midst1 as it seemed1 of the deep sea1 for it was impossible that the mind or the eye could at once comprehend the shallowness of the vast sheet of water which stretched away in leagues of rippling lustre to the north and south1 or trace the narrow line of islets bounding it to the east4 ,the salt breeze1 the white moaning sea-birds1 the masses of black weed separating and disappearing gradually1 in knots of heaving shoal1 under the advance of the steady tide1 all proclaimed it to be indeed the ocean on whose bosom the great city rested so calmly2 not such blue1 soft1 lake-like ocean as bathes the ,neapolitan promontories1 or sleeps beneath the marble rocks of ,genoa1 but a sea with the bleak power of our own northern waves1 yet subdued into a strange spacious rest1 and changed from its angry pallor into a field of burnished gold1 as the sun declined behind the belfry tower of the lonely island church1 fitly named ,st4 ,george of the ,seaweed4 ,as the boat drew nearer to the city1 the coast which the traveller had just left sank behind him into one long1 low1 sad-colored line1 tufted irregularly with brushwood and willows3 but1 at what seemed its northern extremity1 the hills of ,arqua rose in a dark cluster of purple pyramids1 balanced on the bright mirage of the lagoon2 two or three smooth surges of inferior hill extended themselves about their roots1 and beyond these1 beginning with the craggy peaks above ,vicenza1 the chain of the ,alps girded the whole horizon to the north--a wall of jagged blue1 here and there showing through its clefts a wilderness of misty precipices1 fading far back into the recesses of ,cadore1 and itself rising and breaking away eastward1 where the sun struck opposite upon its snow1 into mighty fragments of peaked light1 standing up behind the barred clouds of evening1 one after another1 countless1 the crown of the ,adrian ,sea1 until the eye turned back from pursuing them1 to rest upon the nearer burning of the campaniles of ,murano1 and on the great city1 where it magnified itself along the waves1 as the quick silent pacing of the gondola drew nearer and nearer4 ,and at last1 when its walls were reached1 and the outmost of its untrodden streets was entered1 not through towered gate or guarded rampart1 but as a deep inlet between two rocks of coral in the ,indian sea2 when first upon the traveller's sight opened the long ranges of columned palaces1--each with its black boat moored at the portal1--each with its image cast down1 beneath its feet1 upon that green pavement which every breeze broke into new fantasies of rich tessellation2 when first1 at the extremity of the bright vista1 the shadowy ,rialto threw its colossal curve slowly forth from behind the palace of the ,camerlenghi2 that strange curve1 so delicate1 so adamantine1 strong as a mountain cavern1 graceful as a bow just bent2 when first1 before its moonlike circumference was all risen1 the gondolier's cry1 ,ah6 ,stal1#a struck sharp upon the ear1 and the prow turned aside under the mighty cornices that half met over the narrow canal1 where the plash of the water followed close and loud1 ringing along the marble by the boat's side2 and when at last that boat darted forth upon the breadth of silver sea1 across which the front of the ,ducal palace1 flushed with its sanguine veins1 looks to the snowy dome of ,our ,lady of ,salvation1#b it was no marvel that the mind should be so deeply entranced by the visionary charm of a scene so beautiful and so strange1 as to forget the darker truths of its history and its being4 ,well might it seem that such a city had owed her existence rather to the rod of the enchanter1 than the fear of the fugitive2 that the waters which encircled her had been chosen for the mirror of her state1 rather than the shelter of her nakedness2 and that all which in nature was wild or merciless1--,time and ,decay1 as well as the waves and tempests1--had been won to adorn her instead of to destroy1 and might still spare1 for ages to come1 that beauty which seemed to have fixed for its throne the sands of the hour-glass as well as of the sea4 ,,ii4 ,and although the last few eventful years1 fraught with change to the face of the whole earth1 have been more fatal in their influence on ,venice than the five hundred that preceded them2 though the noble landscape of approach to her can now be seen no more1 or seen only by a glance1 as the engine slackens its rushing on the iron line2 and though many of her palaces are for ever defaced1 and many in desecrated ruins1 there is still so much of magic in her aspect1 that the hurried traveller1 who must leave her before the wonder of that first aspect has been worn away1 may still be led to forget the humility of her origin1 and to shut his eyes to the depth of her desolation4 ,they1 at least1 are little to be envied1 in whose hearts the great charities of the imagination lie dead1 and for whom the fancy has no power to repress the importunity of painful impressions1 or to raise what is ignoble1 and disguise what is discordant1 in a scene so rich in its remembrances1 so surpassing in its beauty4 ,but for this work of the imagination there must be no permission during the task which is before us4 ,the impotent feelings of romance1 so singularly characteristic of this century1 may indeed gild1 but never save the remains of those mightier ages to which they are attached like climbing flowers2 and they must be torn away from the magnificent fragments1 if we would see them as they stood in their own strength4 ,those feelings1 always as fruitless as they are fond1 are in ,venice not only incapable of protecting1 but even of discerning1 the objects to which they ought to have been attached4 ,the ,venice of modern fiction and drama is a thing of yesterday1 a mere efflorescence of decay1 a stage dream which the first ray of daylight must dissipate into dust4 ,no prisoner1 whose name is worth remembering1 or whose sorrow deserved sympathy1 ever crossed that ,bridge of ,sighs1 which is the centre of the ,byronic ideal of ,venice2 no great merchant of ,venice ever saw that ,rialto under which the traveller now passes with breathless interest3 the statue which ,byron makes ,faliero address as of one of his great ancestors was erected to a soldier of fortune a hundred and fifty years after ,faliero's death2 and the most conspicuous parts of the city have been so entirely altered in the course of the last three centuries1 that if ,henry ,dandolo or ,francis ,foscari could be summoned from their tombs1 and stood each on the deck of his galley at the entrance of the ,grand ,canal1 that renowned entrance1 the painter's favorite subject1 the novelist's favorite scene1 where the water first narrows by the steps of the ,church of ,la ,salute1--the mighty ,doges would not know in what spot of the world they stood1 would literally not recognize one stone of the great city1 for whose sake1 and by whose ingratitude1 their grey hairs had been brought down with bitterness to the grave4 ,the remains of their ,venice lie hidden behind the cumbrous masses which were the delight of the nation in its dotage2 hidden in many a grass-grown court1 and silent pathway1 and lightless canal1 where the slow waves have sapped their foundations for five hundred years1 and must soon prevail over them for ever4 ,it must be our task to glean and gather them forth1 and restore out of them some faint image of the lost city1 more gorgeous a thousand-fold than that which now exists1 yet not created in the day-dream of the prince1 nor by the ostentation of the noble1 but built by iron hands and patient hearts1 contending against the adversity of nature and the fury of man1 so that its wonderfulness cannot be grasped by the indolence of imagination1 but only after frank inquiry into the true nature of that wild and solitary scene1 whose restless tides and trembling sands did indeed shelter the birth of the city1 but long denied her dominion4 ,,iii4 ,when the eye falls casually on a map of ,europe1 there is no feature by which it is more likely to be arrested than the strange sweeping loop formed by the junction of the ,alps and ,apennines1 and enclosing the great basin of ,lombardy4 ,this return of the mountain chain upon itself causes a vast difference in the character of the distribution of its dbris on its opposite sides4 ,the rock fragments and sediment which the torrents on the north side of the ,alps bear into the plains are distributed over a vast extent of country1 and1 though here and there lodged in beds of enormous thickness1 soon permit the firm substrata to appear from underneath them2 but all the torrents which descend from the southern side of the ,high ,alps1 and from the northern slope of the ,apennines1 meet concentrically in the recess or mountain bay which the two ridges enclose2 every fragment which thunder breaks out of their battlements1 and every grain of dust which the summer rain washes from their pastures1 is at last laid at rest in the blue sweep of the ,lombardic plain2 and that plain must have risen within its rocky barriers as a cup fills with wine1 but for two contrary influences which continually depress1 or disperse from its surface1 the accumulation of the ruins of ages4 ,,iv4 ,i will not tax the reader's faith in modern science by insisting on the singular depression of the surface of ,lombardy1 which appears for many centuries to have taken place steadily and continually2 the main fact with which we have to do is the gradual transport1 by the ,po and its great collateral rivers1 of vast masses of the finer sediment to the sea4 ,the character of the ,lombardic plains is most strikingly expressed by the ancient walls of its cities1 composed for the most part of large rounded ,alpine pebbles alternating with narrow courses of brick2 and was curiously illustrated in #ahdh1 by the ramparts of these same pebbles thrown up four or five feet high round every field1 to check the ,austrian cavalry in the battle under the walls of ,verona4 ,the finer dust among which these pebbles are dispersed is taken up by the rivers1 fed into continual strength by the ,alpine snow1 so that1 however pure their waters may be when they issue from the lakes at the foot of the great chain1 they become of the color and opacity of clay before they reach the ,adriatic2 the sediment which they bear is at once thrown down as they enter the sea1 forming a vast belt of low land along the eastern coast of ,italy4 ,the powerful stream of the ,po of course builds forward the fastest2 on each side of it1 north and south1 there is a tract of marsh1 fed by more feeble streams1 and less liable to rapid change than the delta of the central river4 ,in one of these tracts is built ,,ravenna1 and in the other ,,venice4 ,v4 ,what circumstances directed the peculiar arrangement of this great belt of sediment in the earliest times1 it is not here the place to inquire4 ,it is enough for us to know that from the mouths of the ,adige to those of the ,piave there stretches1 at a variable distance of from three to five miles from the actual shore1 a bank of sand1 divided into long islands by narrow channels of sea4 ,the space between this bank and the true shore consists of the sedimentary deposits from these and other rivers1 a great plain of calcareous mud1 covered1 in the neighborhood of ,venice1 by the sea at high water1 to the depth in most places of a foot or a foot and a half1 and nearly everywhere exposed at low tide1 but divided by an intricate network of narrow and winding channels1 from which the sea never retires4 ,in some places1 according to the run of the currents1 the land has risen into marshy islets1 consolidated1 some by art1 and some by time1 into ground firm enough to be built upon1 or fruitful enough to be cultivated3 in others1 on the contrary1 it has not reached the sea-level2 so that1 at the average low water1 shallow lakelets glitter among its irregularly exposed fields of seaweed4 ,in the midst of the largest of these1 increased in importance by the confluence of several large river channels towards one of the openings in the sea bank1 the city of ,venice itself is built1 on a crowded cluster of islands2 the various plots of higher ground which appear to the north and south of this central cluster1 have at different periods been also thickly inhabited1 and now bear1 according to their size1 the remains of cities1 villages1 or isolated convents and churches1 scattered among spaces of open ground1 partly waste and encumbered by ruins1 partly under cultivation for the supply of the metropolis4 ,,vi4 ,the average rise and fall of the tide is about three feet 7varying considerably with the seasons#c72 but this fall1 on so flat a shore1 is enough to cause continual movement in the waters1 and in the main canals to produce a reflux which frequently runs like a mill stream4 ,at high water no land is visible for many miles to the north or south of ,venice1 except in the form of small islands crowned with towers or gleaming with villages3 there is a channel1 some three miles wide1 between the city and the mainland1 and some mile and a half wide between it and the sandy breakwater called the ,lido1 which divides the lagoon from the ,adriatic1 but which is so low as hardly to disturb the impression of the city's having been built in the midst of the ocean1 although the secret of its true position is partly1 yet not painfully1 betrayed by the clusters of piles set to mark the deep-water channels1 which undulate far away in spotty chains like the studded backs of huge sea-snakes1 and by the quick glittering of the crisped and crowded waves that flicker and dance before the strong winds upon the unlifted level of the shallow sea4 ,but the scene is widely different at low tide4 ,a fall of eighteen or twenty inches is enough to show ground over the greater part of the lagoon2 and at the complete ebb the city is seen standing in the midst of a dark plain of seaweed1 of gloomy green1 except only where the larger branches of the ,brenta and its associated streams converge towards the port of the ,lido4 ,through this salt and sombre plain the gondola and the fishing-boat advance by tortuous channels1 seldom more than four or five feet deep1 and often so choked with slime that the heavier keels furrow the bottom till their crossing tracks are seen through the clear sea water like the ruts upon a wintry road1 and the oar leaves blue gashes upon the ground at every stroke1 or is entangled among the thick weed that fringes the banks with the weight of its sullen waves1 leaning to and fro upon the uncertain sway of the exhausted tide4 ,the scene is often profoundly oppressive1 even at this day1 when every plot of higher ground bears some fragment of fair building3 but1 in order to know what it was once1 let the traveller follow in his boat at evening the windings of some unfrequented channel far into the midst of the melancholy plain2 let him remove1 in his imagination1 the brightness of the great city that still extends itself in the distance1 and the walls and towers from the islands that are near2 and so wait1 until the bright investiture and sweet warmth of the sunset are withdrawn from the waters1 and the black desert of their shore lies in its nakedness beneath the night1 pathless1 comfortless1 infirm1 lost in dark languor and fearful silence1 except where the salt runlets plash into the tideless pools1 or the sea-birds flit from their margins with a questioning cry2 and he will be enabled to enter in some sort into the horror of heart with which this solitude was anciently chosen by man for his habitation4 ,they little thought1 who first drove the stakes into the sand1 and strewed the ocean reeds for their rest1 that their children were to be the princes of that ocean1 and their palaces its pride2 and yet1 in the great natural laws that rule that sorrowful wilderness1 let it be remembered what strange preparation had been made for the things which no human imagination could have foretold1 and how the whole existence and fortune of the ,venetian nation were anticipated or compelled1 by the setting of those bars and doors to the rivers and the sea4 ,had deeper currents divided their islands1 hostile navies would again and again have reduced the rising city into servitude2 had stronger surges beaten their shores1 all the richness and refinement of the ,venetian architecture must have been exchanged for the walls and bulwarks of an ordinary sea-port4 ,had there been no tide1 as in other parts of the ,mediterranean1 the narrow canals of the city would have become noisome1 and the marsh in which it was built pestiferous4 ,had the tide been only a foot or eighteen inches higher in its rise1 the water-access to the doors of the palaces would have been impossible3 even as it is1 there is sometimes a little difficulty1 at the ebb1 in landing without setting foot upon the lower and slippery steps3 and the highest tides sometimes enter the courtyards1 and overflow the entrance halls4 ,eighteen inches more of difference between the level of the flood and ebb would have rendered the doorsteps of every palace1 at low water1 a treacherous mass of weeds and limpets1 and the entire system of water-carriage for the higher classes1 in their easy and daily intercourse1 must have been done away with4 ,the streets of the city would have been widened1 its network of canals filled up1 and all the peculiar character of the place and the people destroyed4 ,,vii4 ,the reader may perhaps have felt some pain in the contrast between this faithful view of the site of the ,venetian ,throne1 and the romantic conception of it which we ordinarily form2 but this pain1 if he have felt it1 ought to be more than counterbalanced by the value of the instance thus afforded to us at once of the inscrutableness and the wisdom of the ways of ,god4 ,if1 two thousand years ago1 we had been permitted to watch the slow settling of the slime of those turbid rivers into the polluted sea1 and the gaining upon its deep and fresh waters of the lifeless1 impassable1 unvoyageable plain1 how little could we have understood the purpose with which those islands were shaped out of the void1 and the torpid waters enclosed with their desolate walls of sand6 ,how little could we have known1 any more than of what now seems to us most distressful1 dark1 and objectless1 the glorious aim which was then in the mind of ,him in whose hand are all the corners of the earth6 how little imagined that in the laws which were stretching forth the gloomy margins of those fruitless banks1 and feeding the bitter grass among their shallows1 there was indeed a preparation1 and the only preparation possible1 for the founding of a city which was to be set like a golden clasp on the girdle of the earth1 to write her history on the white scrolls of the sea-surges1 and to word it in their thunder1 and to gather and give forth1 in worldwide pulsation1 the glory of the ,west and of the ,east1 from the burning heart of her ,fortitude and ,splendor4 ,,footnotes #a ,appendix #a1 ,the ,gondolier's ,cry4 #b ,appendix #b1 ,our ,lady of ,salvation4 #c ,appendix #c1 ,tides of ,venice4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,torcello4 ,i4 ,seven miles to the north of ,venice1 the banks of sand1 which near the city rise little above low-water mark1 attain by degrees a higher level1 and knit themselves at last into fields of salt morass1 raised here and there into shapeless mounds1 and intercepted by narrow creeks of sea4 ,one of the feeblest of these inlets1 after winding for some time among buried fragments of masonry1 and knots of sunburnt weeds whitened with webs of fucus1 stays itself in an utterly stagnant pool beside a plot of greener grass covered with ground ivy and violets4 ,on this mound is built a rude brick campanile1 of the commonest ,lombardic type1 which if we ascend towards evening 7and there are none to hinder us1 the door of its ruinous staircase swinging idly on its hinges71 we may command from it one of the most notable scenes in this wide world of ours4 ,far as the eye can reach1 a waste of wild sea moor1 of a lurid ashen grey2 not like our northern moors with their jet-black pools and purple heath1 but lifeless1 the color of sackcloth1 with the corrupted sea-water soaking through the roots of its acrid weeds1 and gleaming hither and thither through its snaky channels4 ,no gathering of fantastic mists1 nor coursing of clouds across it2 but melancholy clearness of space in the warm sunset1 oppressive1 reaching to the horizon of its level gloom4 ,to the very horizon1 on the north-east2 but1 to the north and west1 there is a blue line of higher land along the border of it1 and above this1 but farther back1 a misty band of mountains1 touched with snow4 ,to the east1 the paleness and roar of the ,adriatic1 louder at momentary intervals as the surf breaks on the bars of sand2 to the south1 the widening branches of the calm lagoon1 alternately purple and pale green1 as they reflect the evening clouds or twilight sky2 and almost beneath our feet1 on the same field which sustains the tower we gaze from1 a group of four buildings1 two of them little larger than cottages 7though built of stone1 and one adorned by a quaint belfry71 the third an octagonal chapel1 of which we can see but little more than the flat red roof with its rayed tiling1 the fourth1 a considerable church with nave and aisles1 but of which1 in like manner1 we can see little but the long central ridge and lateral slopes of roof1 which the sunlight separates in one glowing mass from the green field beneath and grey moor beyond4 ,there are no living creatures near the buildings1 nor any vestige of village or city round about them4 ,they lie like a little company of ships becalmed on a far-away sea4 ,,ii4 ,then look farther to the south4 ,beyond the widening branches of the lagoon1 and rising out of the bright lake into which they gather1 there are a multitude of towers1 dark1 and scattered among square-set shapes of clustered palaces1 a long and irregular line fretting the southern sky4 ,mother and daughter1 you behold them both in their widowhood1--,,torcello and ,,venice4 ,thirteen hundred years ago1 the grey moorland looked as it does this day1 and the purple mountains stood as radiantly in the deep distances of evening2 but on the line of the horizon1 there were strange fires mixed with the light of sunset1 and the lament of many human voices mixed with the fretting of the waves on their ridges of sand4 ,the flames rose from the ruins of ,altinum2 the lament from the multitude of its people1 seeking1 like ,israel of old1 a refuge from the sword in the paths of the sea4 ,the cattle are feeding and resting upon the site of the city that they left2 the mower's scythe swept this day at dawn over the chief street of the city that they built1 and the swathes of soft grass are now sending up their scent into the night air1 the only incense that fills the temple of their ancient worship4 ,let us go down into that little space of meadow land4 ,,iii4 ,the inlet which runs nearest to the base of the campanile is not that by which ,torcello is commonly approached4 ,another1 somewhat broader1 and overhung by alder copse1 winds out of the main channel of the lagoon up to the very edge of the little meadow which was once the ,piazza of the city1 and there1 stayed by a few grey stones which present some semblance of a quay1 forms its boundary at one extremity4 ,hardly larger than an ordinary ,english farmyard1 and roughly enclosed on each side by broken palings and hedges of honeysuckle and briar1 the narrow field retires from the water's edge1 traversed by a scarcely traceable footpath1 for some forty or fifty paces1 and then expanding into the form of a small square1 with buildings on three sides of it1 the fourth being that which opens to the water4 ,two of these1 that on our left and that in front of us as we approach from the canal1 are so small that they might well be taken for the out-houses of the farm1 though the first is a conventual building1 and the other aspires to the title of the ,palazzo publico1 both dating as far back as the beginning of the fourteenth century2 the third1 the octagonal church of ,santa ,fosca1 is far more ancient than either1 yet hardly on a larger scale4 ,though the pillars of the portico which surrounds it are of pure ,greek marble1 and their capitals are enriched with delicate sculpture1 they1 and the arches they sustain1 together only raise the roof to the height of a cattle-shed2 and the first strong impression which the spectator receives from the whole scene is1 that whatever sin it may have been which has on this spot been visited with so utter a desolation1 it could not at least have been ambition4 ,nor will this impression be diminished as we approach1 or enter1 the larger church to which the whole group of building is subordinate4 ,it has evidently been built by men in flight and distress1#d who sought in the hurried erection of their island church such a shelter for their earnest and sorrowful worship as1 on the one hand1 could not attract the eyes of their enemies by its splendor1 and yet1 on the other1 might not awaken too bitter feelings by its contrast with the churches which they had seen destroyed4 ,there is visible everywhere a simple and tender effort to recover some of the form of the temples which they had loved1 and to do honor to ,god by that which they were erecting1 while distress and humiliation prevented the desire1 and prudence precluded the admission1 either of luxury of ornament or magnificence of plan4 ,the exterior is absolutely devoid of decoration1 with the exception only of the western entrance and the lateral door1 of which the former has carved sideposts and architrave1 and the latter1 crosses of rich sculpture2 while the massy stone shutters of the windows1 turning on huge rings of stone1 which answer the double purpose of stanchions and brackets1 cause the whole building rather to resemble a refuge from ,alpine storm than the cathedral of a populous city2 and1 internally1 the two solemn mosaics of the eastern and western extremities1--one representing the ,last ,judgment1 the other the ,madonna1 her tears falling as her hands are raised to bless1--and the noble range of pillars which enclose the space between1 terminated by the high throne for the pastor and the semicircular raised seats for the superior clergy1 are expressive at once of the deep sorrow and the sacred courage of men who had no home left them upon earth1 but who looked for one to come1 of men persecuted but not forsaken1 cast down but not destroyed4 ,,iv4 ,i am not aware of any other early church in ,italy which has this peculiar expression in so marked a degree2 and it is so consistent with all that ,christian architecture ought to express in every age 7for the actual condition of the exiles who built the cathedral of ,torcello is exactly typical of the spiritual condition which every ,christian ought to recognize in himself1 a state of homelessness on earth1 except so far as he can make the ,most ,high his habitation71 that ,i would rather fix the mind of the reader on this general character than on the separate details1 however interesting1 of the architecture itself4 ,i shall therefore examine these only so far as is necessary to give a clear idea of the means by which the peculiar expression of the building is attained4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,i4 ,,plans ,,of ,,torcello ,,and ,,murano4 ,v4 ,on the opposite page1 the uppermost figure1 #a1 is a rude plan of the church4 ,i do not answer for the thickness and external disposition of the walls1 which are not to our present purpose1 and which ,i have not carefully examined2 but the interior arrangement is given with sufficient accuracy4 ,the church is built on the usual plan of the ,basilica#e that is to say1 its body divided into a nave and aisles by two rows of massive shafts1 the roof of the nave being raised high above the aisles by walls sustained on two ranks of pillars1 and pierced with small arched windows4 ,at ,torcello the aisles are also lighted in the same manner1 and the nave is nearly twice their breadth4#f ,illustration3 ,plate ,,ii4 ,,the ,,acanthus ,,of ,,torcello4 ,the capitals of all the great shafts are of white marble1 and are among the best ,i have ever seen1 as examples of perfectly calculated effect from every touch of the chisel4 ,mr4 ,hope calls them indifferently imitated from the ,corinthian3#g but the expression is as inaccurate as it is unjust2 every one of them is different in design1 and their variations are as graceful as they are fanciful4 ,i could not1 except by an elaborate drawing1 give any idea of the sharp1 dark1 deep penetrations of the chisel into their snowy marble1 but a single example is given in the opposite plate1 fig4 #a1 of the nature of the changes effected in them from the ,corinthian type4 ,in this capital1 although a kind of acanthus 7only with rounded lobes7 is indeed used for the upper range of leaves1 the lower range is not acanthus at all1 but a kind of vine1 or at least that species of plant which stands for vine in all early ,lombardic and ,byzantine work 7vide ,vol4 ,i4 ,appendix #h72 the leaves are trefoiled1 and the stalks cut clear so that they might be grasped with the hand1 and cast sharp dark shadows1 perpetually changing1 across the bell of the capital behind them4 ,i have drawn one of these vine plants larger in fig4 #b1 that the reader may see how little imitation of the ,corinthian there is in them1 and how boldly the stems of the leaves are detached from the ground4 ,but there is another circumstance in this ornament still more noticeable4 ,the band which encircles the shaft beneath the spring of the leaves is copied from the common classical wreathed or braided fillet1 of which the reader may see examples on almost every building of any pretensions in modern ,london4 ,but the medival builders could not be content with the dead and meaningless scroll3 the ,gothic energy and love of life1 mingled with the early ,christian religious symbolism1 were struggling daily into more vigorous expression1 and they turned the wreathed band into a serpent of three times the length necessary to undulate round the shaft1 which1 knotting itself into a triple chain1 shows at one side of the shaft its tail and head1 as if perpetually gliding round it beneath the stalks of the vines4 ,the vine1 as is well known1 was one of the early symbols of ,christ1 and the serpent is here typical either of the eternity of his dominion1 or of the ,satanic power subdued4 ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #a4 ,,vi4 ,nor even when the builder confines himself to the acanthus leaf 7or to that representation of it1 hereafter to be more particularly examined1 constant in ,romanesque work7 can his imagination allow him to rest content with its accustomed position4 ,in a common ,corinthian capital the leaves nod forward only1 thrown out on every side from the bell which they surround3 but at the base of one of the capitals on the opposite side of the nave from this of the vines1#h two leaves are introduced set with their sides outwards1 forming spirals by curling back1 half-closed1 in the position shown in fig4 #d in ,plate ,,ii41 there represented as in a real acanthus leaf2 for it will assist our future inquiries into the ornamentation of capitals that the reader should be acquainted with the form of the acanthus leaf itself4 ,i have drawn it1 therefore1 in the two positions1 figs4 #c and #d in ,plate ,,ii42 while fig4 #e is the translation of the latter form into marble by the sculptor of ,torcello4 ,it is not very like the acanthus1 but much liker than any ,greek work2 though still entirely conventional in its cinquefoiled lobes4 ,but these are disposed with the most graceful freedom of line1 separated at the roots by deep drill holes1 which tell upon the eye far away like beads of jet2 and changed1 before they become too crowded to be effective1 into a vigorous and simple zigzagged edge1 which saves the designer some embarrassment in the perspective of the terminating spiral4 ,but his feeling of nature was greater than his knowledge of perspective2 and it is delightful to see how he has rooted the whole leaf in the strong rounded under-stem1 the indication of its closing with its face inwards1 and has thus given organization and elasticity to the lovely group of spiral lines2 a group of which1 even in the lifeless sea-shell1 we are never weary1 but which becomes yet more delightful when the ideas of elasticity and growth are joined to the sweet succession of its involution4 ,,vii4 ,it is not1 however1 to be expected that either the mute language of early ,christianity 7however important a part of the expression of the building at the time of its erection71 or the delicate fancies of the ,gothic leafage springing into new life1 should be read1 or perceived1 by the passing traveller who has never been taught to expect anything in architecture except five orders3 yet he can hardly fail to be struck by the simplicity and dignity of the great shafts themselves2 by the frank diffusion of light1 which prevents their severity from becoming oppressive2 by the delicate forms and lovely carving of the pulpit and chancel screen2 and1 above all1 by the peculiar aspect of the eastern extremity of the church1 which1 instead of being withdrawn1 as in later cathedrals1 into a chapel dedicated to the ,virgin1 or contributing by the brilliancy of its windows to the splendor of the altar1 and theatrical effect of the ceremonies performed there1 is a simple and stern semicircular recess1 filled beneath by three ranks of seats1 raised one above the other1 for the bishop and presbyters1 that they might watch as well as guide the devotions of the people1 and discharge literally in the daily service the functions of bishops or overseers of the flock of ,god4 ,,viii4 ,let us consider a little each of these characters in succession2 and first 7for of the shafts enough has been said already71 what is very peculiar to this church1 its luminousness4 ,this perhaps strikes the traveller more from its contrast with the excessive gloom of the ,church of ,st4 ,mark's2 but it is remarkable when we compare the ,cathedral of ,torcello with any of the contemporary basilicas in ,south ,italy or ,lombardic churches in the ,north4 ,st4 ,ambrogio at ,milan1 ,st4 ,michele at ,pavia1 ,st4 ,zeno at ,verona1 ,st4 ,frediano at ,lucca1 ,st4 ,miniato at ,florence1 are all like sepulchral caverns compared with ,torcello1 where the slightest details of the sculptures and mosaics are visible1 even when twilight is deepening4 ,and there is something especially touching in our finding the sunshine thus freely admitted into a church built by men in sorrow4 ,they did not need the darkness2 they could not perhaps bear it4 ,there was fear and depression upon them enough1 without a material gloom4 ,they sought for comfort in their religion1 for tangible hopes and promises1 not for threatenings or mysteries2 and though the subjects chosen for the mosaics on the walls are of the most solemn character1 there are no artificial shadows cast upon them1 nor dark colors used in them3 all is fair and bright1 and intended evidently to be regarded in hopefulness1 and not with terror4 ,,ix4 ,for observe this choice of subjects4 ,it is indeed possible that the walls of the nave and aisles1 which are now whitewashed1 may have been covered with fresco or mosaic1 and thus have supplied a series of subjects1 on the choice of which we cannot speculate4 ,i do not1 however1 find record of the destruction of any such works2 and ,i am rather inclined to believe that at any rate the central division of the building was originally decorated1 as it is now1 simply by mosaics representing ,christ1 the ,virgin1 and the apostles1 at one extremity1 and ,christ coming to judgment at the other4 ,and if so1 ,i repeat1 observe the significance of this choice4 ,most other early churches are covered with imagery sufficiently suggestive of the vivid interest of the builders in the history and occupations of the world4 ,symbols or representations of political events1 portraits of living persons1 and sculptures of satirical1 grotesque1 or trivial subjects are of constant occurrence1 mingled with the more strictly appointed representations of scriptural or ecclesiastical history2 but at ,torcello even these usual1 and one should have thought almost necessary1 successions of ,bible events do not appear4 ,the mind of the worshipper was fixed entirely upon two great facts1 to him the most precious of all facts1--the present mercy of ,christ to ,his ,church1 and ,his future coming to judge the world4 ,that ,christ's mercy was1 at this period1 supposed chiefly to be attainable through the pleading of the ,virgin1 and that therefore beneath the figure of the ,redeemer is seen that of the weeping ,madonna in the act of intercession1 may indeed be matter of sorrow to the ,protestant beholder1 but ought not to blind him to the earnestness and singleness of the faith with which these men sought their sea-solitudes2 not in hope of founding new dynasties1 or entering upon new epochs of prosperity1 but only to humble themselves before ,god1 and to pray that in ,his infinite mercy ,he would hasten the time when the sea should give up the dead which were in it1 and ,death and ,hell give up the dead which were in them1 and when they might enter into the better kingdom1 where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest4 ,x4 ,nor were the strength and elasticity of their minds1 even in the least matters1 diminished by thus looking forward to the close of all things4 ,on the contrary1 nothing is more remarkable than the finish and beauty of all the portions of the building1 which seem to have been actually executed for the place they occupy in the present structure4 ,the rudest are those which they brought with them from the mainland2 the best and most beautiful1 those which appear to have been carved for their island church3 of these1 the new capitals already noticed1 and the exquisite panel ornaments of the chancel screen1 are the most conspicuous2 the latter form a low wall across the church between the six small shafts whose places are seen in the plan1 and serve to enclose a space raised two steps above the level of the nave1 destined for the singers1 and indicated also in the plan by an open line a b c d4 ,the bas-reliefs on this low screen are groups of peacocks and lions1 two face to face on each panel1 rich and fantastic beyond description1 though not expressive of very accurate knowledge either of leonine or pavonine forms4 ,and it is not until we pass to the back of the stair of the pulpit1 which is connected with the northern extremity of this screen1 that we find evidence of the haste with which the church was constructed4 ,,xi4 ,the pulpit1 however1 is not among the least noticeable of its features4 ,it is sustained on the four small detached shafts marked at p in the plan1 between the two pillars at the north side of the screen2 both pillars and pulpit studiously plain1 while the staircase which ascends to it is a compact mass of masonry 7shaded in the plan71 faced by carved slabs of marble2 the parapet of the staircase being also formed of solid blocks like paving-stones1 lightened by rich1 but not deep1 exterior carving4 ,now these blocks1 or at least those which adorn the staircase towards the aisle1 have been brought from the mainland2 and1 being of size and shape not easily to be adjusted to the proportions of the stair1 the architect has cut out of them pieces of the size he needed1 utterly regardless of the subject or symmetry of the original design4 ,the pulpit is not the only place where this rough procedure has been permitted3 at the lateral door of the church are two crosses1 cut out of slabs of marble1 formerly covered with rich sculpture over their whole surfaces1 of which portions are left on the surface of the crosses2 the lines of the original design being1 of course1 just as arbitrarily cut by the incisions between the arms1 as the patterns upon a piece of silk which has been shaped anew4 ,the fact is1 that in all early ,romanesque work1 large surfaces are covered with sculpture for the sake of enrichment only2 sculpture which indeed had always meaning1 because it was easier for the sculptor to work with some chain of thought to guide his chisel1 than without any2 but it was not always intended1 or at least not always hoped1 that this chain of thought might be traced by the spectator4 ,all that was proposed appears to have been the enrichment of surface1 so as to make it delightful to the eye2 and this being once understood1 a decorated piece of marble became to the architect just what a piece of lace or embroidery is to a dressmaker1 who takes of it such portions as she may require1 with little regard to the places where the patterns are divided4 ,and though it may appear1 at first sight1 that the procedure is indicative of bluntness and rudeness of feeling1 we may perceive1 upon reflection1 that it may also indicate the redundance of power which sets little price upon its own exertion4 ,when a barbarous nation builds its fortress-walls out of fragments of the refined architecture it has overthrown1 we can read nothing but its savageness in the vestiges of art which may thus chance to have been preserved2 but when the new work is equal1 if not superior1 in execution1 to the pieces of the older art which are associated with it1 we may justly conclude that the rough treatment to which the latter have been subjected is rather a sign of the hope of doing better things1 than of want of feeling for those already accomplished4 ,and1 in general1 this careless fitting of ornament is1 in very truth1 an evidence of life in the school of builders1 and of their making a due distinction between work which is to be used for architectural effect1 and work which is to possess an abstract perfection2 and it commonly shows also that the exertion of design is so easy to them1 and their fertility so inexhaustible1 that they feel no remorse in using somewhat injuriously what they can replace with so slight an effort4 ,,xii4 ,it appears however questionable in the present instance1 whether1 if the marbles had not been carved to his hand1 the architect would have taken the trouble to enrich them4 ,for the execution of the rest of the pulpit is studiously simple1 and it is in this respect that its design possesses1 it seems to me1 an interest to the religious spectator greater than he will take in any other portion of the building4 ,it is supported1 as ,i said1 on a group of four slender shafts2 itself of a slightly oval form1 extending nearly from one pillar of the nave to the next1 so as to give the preacher free room for the action of the entire person1 which always gives an unaffected impressiveness to the eloquence of the southern nations4 ,in the centre of its curved front1 a small bracket and detached shaft sustain the projection of a narrow marble desk 7occupying the place of a cushion in a modern pulpit71 which is hollowed out into a shallow curve on the upper surface1 leaving a ledge at the bottom of the slab1 so that a book laid upon it1 or rather into it1 settles itself there1 opening as if by instinct1 but without the least chance of slipping to the side1 or in any way moving beneath the preacher's hands4#i ,six balls1 or rather almonds1 of purple marble veined with white are set round the edge of the pulpit1 and form its only decoration4 ,perfectly graceful1 but severe and almost cold in its simplicity1 built for permanence and service1 so that no single member1 no stone of it1 could be spared1 and yet all are firm and uninjured as when they were first set together1 it stands in venerable contrast both with the fantastic pulpits of medival cathedrals and with the rich furniture of those of our modern churches4 ,it is worth while pausing for a moment to consider how far the manner of decorating a pulpit may have influence on the efficiency of its service1 and whether our modern treatment of this1 to us all-important1 feature of a church be the best possible4 ,,xiii4 ,when the sermon is good we need not much concern ourselves about the form of the pulpit4 ,but sermons cannot always be good2 and ,i believe that the temper in which the congregation set themselves to listen may be in some degree modified by their perception of fitness or unfitness1 impressiveness or vulgarity1 in the disposition of the place appointed for the speaker1--not to the same degree1 but somewhat in the same way1 that they may be influenced by his own gestures or expression1 irrespective of the sense of what he says4 ,i believe1 therefore1 in the first place1 that pulpits ought never to be highly decorated2 the speaker is apt to look mean or diminutive if the pulpit is either on a very large scale or covered with splendid ornament1 and if the interest of the sermon should flag the mind is instantly tempted to wander4 ,i have observed that in almost all cathedrals1 when the pulpits are peculiarly magnificent1 sermons are not often preached from them2 but rather1 and especially if for any important purpose1 from some temporary erection in other parts of the building3 and though this may often be done because the architect has consulted the effect upon the eye more than the convenience of the ear in the placing of his larger pulpit1 ,i think it also proceeds in some measure from a natural dislike in the preacher to match himself with the magnificence of the rostrum1 lest the sermon should not be thought worthy of the place4 ,yet this will rather hold of the colossal sculptures1 and pyramids of fantastic tracery which encumber the pulpits of ,flemish and ,german churches1 than of the delicate mosaics and ivory-like carving of the ,romanesque basilicas1 for when the form is kept simple1 much loveliness of color and costliness of work may be introduced1 and yet the speaker not be thrown into the shade by them4 ,,xiv4 ,but1 in the second place1 whatever ornaments we admit ought clearly to be of a chaste1 grave1 and noble kind2 and what furniture we employ1 evidently more for the honoring of ,god's word than for the ease of the preacher4 ,for there are two ways of regarding a sermon1 either as a human composition1 or a ,divine message4 ,if we look upon it entirely as the first1 and require our clergymen to finish it with their utmost care and learning1 for our better delight whether of ear or intellect1 we shall necessarily be led to expect much formality and stateliness in its delivery1 and to think that all is not well if the pulpit have not a golden fringe round it1 and a goodly cushion in front of it1 and if the sermon be not fairly written in a black book1 to be smoothed upon the cushion in a majestic manner before beginning2 all this we shall duly come to expect3 but we shall at the same time consider the treatise thus prepared as something to which it is our duty to listen without restlessness for half an hour or three quarters1 but which1 when that duty has been decorously performed1 we may dismiss from our minds in happy confidence of being provided with another when next it shall be necessary4 ,but if once we begin to regard the preacher1 whatever his faults1 as a man sent with a message to us1 which it is a matter of life or death whether we hear or refuse2 if we look upon him as set in charge over many spirits in danger of ruin1 and having allowed to him but an hour or two in the seven days to speak to them2 if we make some endeavor to conceive how precious these hours ought to be to him1 a small vantage on the side of ,god after his flock have been exposed for six days together to the full weight of the world's temptation1 and he has been forced to watch the thorn and the thistle springing in their hearts1 and to see what wheat had been scattered there snatched from the wayside by this wild bird and the other1 and at last1 when breathless and weary with the week's labor they give him this interval of imperfect and languid hearing1 he has but thirty minutes to get at the separate hearts of a thousand men1 to convince them of all their weaknesses1 to shame them for all their sins1 to warn them of all their dangers1 to try by this way and that to stir the hard fastenings of those doors where the ,master himself has stood and knocked yet none opened1 and to call at the openings of those dark streets where ,wisdom herself hath stretched forth her hands and no man regarded1--thirty minutes to raise the dead in1--let us but once understand and feel this1 and we shall look with changed eyes upon that frippery of gay furniture about the place from which the message of judgment must be delivered1 which either breathes upon the dry bones that they may live1 or1 if ineffectual1 remains recorded in condemnation1 perhaps against the utterer and listener alike1 but assuredly against one of them4 ,we shall not so easily bear with the silk and gold upon the seat of judgment1 nor with ornament of oratory in the mouth of the messenger3 we shall wish that his words may be simple1 even when they are sweetest1 and the place from which he speaks like a marble rock in the desert1 about which the people have gathered in their thirst4 ,,xv4 ,but the severity which is so marked in the pulpit at ,torcello is still more striking in the raised seats and episcopal throne which occupy the curve of the apse4 ,the arrangement at first somewhat recalls to the mind that of the ,roman amphitheatres2 the flight of steps which lead up to the central throne divides the curve of the continuous steps or seats 7it appears in the first three ranges questionable which were intended1 for they seem too high for the one1 and too low and close for the other71 exactly as in an amphitheatre the stairs for access intersect the sweeping ranges of seats4 ,but in the very rudeness of this arrangement1 and especially in the want of all appliances of comfort 7for the whole is of marble1 and the arms of the central throne are not for convenience1 but for distinction1 and to separate it more conspicuously from the undivided seats71 there is a dignity which no furniture of stalls nor carving of canopies ever could attain1 and well worth the contemplation of the ,protestant1 both as sternly significative of an episcopal authority which in the early days of the ,church was never disputed1 and as dependent for all its impressiveness on the utter absence of any expression either of pride or self-indulgence4 ,,xvi4 ,but there is one more circumstance which we ought to remember as giving peculiar significance to the position which the episcopal throne occupies in this island church1 namely1 that in the minds of all early ,christians the ,church itself was most frequently symbolized under the image of a ship1 of which the bishop was the pilot4 ,consider the force which this symbol would assume in the imaginations of men to whom the spiritual ,church had become an ark of refuge in the midst of a destruction hardly less terrible than that from which the eight souls were saved of old1 a destruction in which the wrath of man had become as broad as the earth and as merciless as the sea1 and who saw the actual and literal edifice of the ,church raised up1 itself like an ark in the midst of the waters4 ,no marvel if with the surf of the ,adriatic rolling between them and the shores of their birth1 from which they were separated for ever1 they should have looked upon each other as the disciples did when the storm came down on the ,tiberias ,lake1 and have yielded ready and loving obedience to those who ruled them in ,his name1 who had there rebuked the winds and commanded stillness to the sea4 ,and if the stranger would yet learn in what spirit it was that the dominion of ,venice was begun1 and in what strength she went forth conquering and to conquer1 let him not seek to estimate the wealth of her arsenals or number of her armies1 nor look upon the pageantry of her palaces1 nor enter into the secrets of her councils2 but let him ascend the highest tier of the stern ledges that sweep round the altar of ,torcello1 and then1 looking as the pilot did of old along the marble ribs of the goodly temple ship1 let him repeople its veined deck with the shadows of its dead mariners1 and strive to feel in himself the strength of heart that was kindled within them1 when first1 after the pillars of it had settled in the sand1 and the roof of it had been closed against the angry sky that was still reddened by the fires of their homesteads1--first1 within the shelter of its knitted walls1 amidst the murmur of the waste of waves and the beating of the wings of the sea-birds round the rock that was strange to them1--rose that ancient hymn1 in the power of their gathered voices3 ,,the ,,sea ,,is ,,his1 ,,and ,,he ,,made ,,it3 ,,and ,,his ,,hands ,,prepared ,,the ,,dry ,,land4 ,,footnotes #d ,appendix #d1 ,date of the ,duomo of ,torcello4 #e ,for a full account of the form and symbolical meaning of the ,basilica1 see ,lord ,lindsay's ,christian ,art1 vol4 i4 p4 #ab4 ,it is much to be regretted that the ,chevalier ,bunsen's work on the ,basilicas of ,rome is not translated into ,english4 #f ,the measures are given in ,appendix #c4 #g ,hope's ,historical ,essay on ,architecture 7third edition1 #ahdj71 chap4 ix4 p4 #ie4 ,in other respects ,mr4 ,hope has done justice to this building1 and to the style of the early ,christian churches in general4 #h ,a sketch has been given of this capital in my folio work4 #i ,appendix #e1 ,modern ,pulpits4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,murano4 ,i4 ,the decay of the city of ,venice is1 in many respects1 like that of an outwearied and aged human frame2 the cause of its decrepitude is indeed at the heart1 but the outward appearances of it are first at the extremities4 ,in the centre of the city there are still places where some evidence of vitality remains1 and where1 with kind closing of the eyes to signs1 too manifest even there1 of distress and declining fortune1 the stranger may succeed in imagining1 for a little while1 what must have been the aspect of ,venice in her prime4 ,but this lingering pulsation has not force enough any more to penetrate into the suburbs and outskirts of the city2 the frost of death has there seized upon it irrevocably1 and the grasp of mortal disease is marked daily by the increasing breadth of its belt of ruin4 ,nowhere is this seen more grievously than along the great north-eastern boundary1 once occupied by the smaller palaces of the ,venetians1 built for pleasure or repose2 the nobler piles along the grand canal being reserved for the pomp and business of daily life4 ,to such smaller palaces some garden ground was commonly attached1 opening to the water-side2 and1 in front of these villas and gardens1 the lagoon was wont to be covered in the evening by gondolas3 the space of it between this part of the city and the island group of ,murano being to ,venice1 in her time of power1 what its parks are to ,london2 only gondolas were used instead of carriages1 and the crowd of the population did not come out till towards sunset1 and prolonged their pleasures far into the night1 company answering to company with alternate singing4 ,,ii4 ,if1 knowing this custom of the ,venetians1 and with a vision in his mind of summer palaces lining the shore1 and myrtle gardens sloping to the sea1 the traveller now seeks this suburb of ,venice1 he will be strangely and sadly surprised to find a new but perfectly desolate quay1 about a mile in length1 extending from the arsenal to the ,sacca della ,misericordia1 in front of a line of miserable houses built in the course of the last sixty or eighty years1 yet already tottering to their ruin2 and not less to find that the principal object in the view which these houses 7built partly in front and partly on the ruins of the ancient palaces7 now command is a dead brick wall1 about a quarter of a mile across the water1 interrupted only by a kind of white lodge1 the cheerfulness of which prospect is not enhanced by his finding that this wall encloses the principal public cemetery of ,venice4 ,he may1 perhaps1 marvel for a few moments at the singular taste of the old ,venetians in taking their pleasure under a churchyard wall3 but1 on further inquiry1 he will find that the building on the island1 like those on the shore1 is recent1 that it stands on the ruins of the ,church of ,st4 ,cristoforo della ,pace2 and that with a singular1 because unintended1 moral1 the modern ,venetians have replaced the ,peace of the ,christ-bearer by the ,peace of ,death1 and where they once went1 as the sun set daily1 to their pleasure1 now go1 as the sun sets to each of them for ever1 to their graves4 ,,iii4 ,yet the power of ,nature cannot be shortened by the folly1 nor her beauty altogether saddened by the misery1 of man4 ,the broad tides still ebb and flow brightly about the island of the dead1 and the linked conclave of the ,alps know no decline from their old pre-eminence1 nor stoop from their golden thrones in the circle of the horizon4 ,so lovely is the scene still1 in spite of all its injuries1 that we shall find ourselves drawn there again and again at evening out of the narrow canals and streets of the city1 to watch the wreaths of the sea-mists weaving themselves like mourning veils around the mountains far away1 and listen to the green waves as they fret and sigh along the cemetery shore4 ,,iv4 ,but it is morning now3 we have a hard day's work to do at ,murano1 and our boat shoots swiftly from beneath the last bridge of ,venice1 and brings us out into the open sea and sky4 ,the pure cumuli of cloud lie crowded and leaning against one another1 rank beyond rank1 far over the shining water1 each cut away at its foundation by a level line1 trenchant and clear1 till they sink to the horizon like a flight of marble steps1 except where the mountains meet them1 and are lost in them1 barred across by the grey terraces of those cloud foundations1 and reduced into one crestless bank of blue1 spotted here and there with strange flakes of wan1 aerial1 greenish light1 strewed upon them like snow4 ,and underneath is the long dark line of the mainland1 fringed with low trees2 and then the wide-waving surface of the burnished lagoon trembling slowly1 and shaking out into forked bands of lengthening light the images of the towers of cloud above4 ,to the north1 there is first the great cemetery wall1 then the long stray buildings of ,murano1 and the island villages beyond1 glittering in intense crystalline vermilion1 like so much jewellery scattered on a mirror1 their towers poised apparently in the air a little above the horizon1 and their reflections1 as sharp and vivid and substantial as themselves1 thrown on the vacancy between them and the sea4 ,and thus the villages seem standing on the air2 and1 to the east1 there is a cluster of ships that seem sailing on the land2 for the sandy line of the ,lido stretches itself between us and them1 and we can see the tall white sails moving beyond it1 but not the sea1 only there is a sense of the great sea being indeed there1 and a solemn strength of gleaming light in sky above4 ,v4 ,the most discordant feature in the whole scene is the cloud which hovers above the glass furnaces of ,murano2 but this we may not regret1 as it is one of the last signs left of human exertion among the ruinous villages which surround us4 ,the silent gliding of the gondola brings it nearer to us every moment2 we pass the cemetery1 and a deep sea-channel which separates it from ,murano1 and finally enter a narrow water-street1 with a paved footpath on each side1 raised three or four feet above the canal1 and forming a kind of quay between the water and the doors of the houses4 ,these latter are1 for the most part1 low1 but built with massy doors and windows of marble or ,istrian stone1 square-set and barred with iron2 buildings evidently once of no mean order1 though now inhabited only by the poor4 ,here and there an ogee window of the fourteenth century1 or a doorway deeply enriched with cable mouldings1 shows itself in the midst of more ordinary features2 and several houses1 consisting of one story only carried on square pillars1 forming a short arcade along the quay1 have windows sustained on shafts of red ,verona marble1 of singular grace and delicacy4 ,all now in vain3 little care is there for their delicacy or grace among the rough fishermen sauntering on the quay with their jackets hanging loose from their shoulders1 jacket and cap and hair all of the same dark-greenish sea-grey4 ,but there is some life in the scene1 more than is usual in ,venice3 the women are sitting at their doors knitting busily1 and various workmen of the glass-houses sifting glass dust upon the pavement1 and strange cries coming from one side of the canal to the other1 and ringing far along the crowded water1 from venders of figs and grapes1 and gourds and shell-fish2 cries partly descriptive of the eatables in question1 but interspersed with others of a character unintelligible in proportion to their violence1 and fortunately so if we may judge by a sentence which is stencilled in black1 within a garland1 on the whitewashed walls of nearly every other house in the street1 but which1 how often soever written1 no one seems to regard3 ,bestemme non pi4 ,lodate ,ges4 ,,vi4 ,we push our way on between large barges laden with fresh water from ,fusina1 in round white tubs seven feet across1 and complicated boats full of all manner of nets that look as if they could never be disentangled1 hanging from their masts and over their sides2 and presently pass under a bridge with the lion of ,st4 ,mark on its archivolt1 and another on a pillar at the end of the parapet1 a small red lion with much of the puppy in his face1 looking vacantly up into the air 7in passing we may note that1 instead of feathers1 his wings are covered with hair1 and in several other points the manner of his sculpture is not uninteresting74 ,presently the canal turns a little to the left1 and thereupon becomes more quiet1 the main bustle of the water-street being usually confined to the first straight reach of it1 some quarter of a mile long1 the ,cheapside of ,murano4 ,we pass a considerable church on the left1 ,st4 ,pietro1 and a little square opposite to it with a few acacia trees1 and then find our boat suddenly seized by a strong green eddy1 and whirled into the tide-way of one of the main channels of the lagoon1 which divides the town of ,murano into two parts by a deep stream some fifty yards over1 crossed only by one wooden bridge4 ,we let ourselves drift some way down the current1 looking at the low line of cottages on the other side of it1 hardly knowing if there be more cheerfulness or melancholy in the way the sunshine glows on their ruinous but whitewashed walls1 and sparkles on the rushing of the green water by the grass-grown quay4 ,it needs a strong stroke of the oar to bring us into the mouth of another quiet canal on the farther side of the tide-way1 and we are still somewhat giddy when we run the head of the gondola into the sand on the left-hand side of this more sluggish stream1 and land under the east end of the ,church of ,san ,donato1 the ,matrice or ,mother ,church of ,murano4 ,,vii4 ,it stands1 it and the heavy campanile detached from it a few yards1 in a small triangular field of somewhat fresher grass than is usual near ,venice1 traversed by a paved walk with green mosaic of short grass between the rude squares of its stones1 bounded on one side by ruinous garden walls1 on another by a line of low cottages1 on the third1 the base of the triangle1 by the shallow canal from which we have just landed4 ,near the point of the triangular space is a simple well1 bearing date #aejb2 in its widest part1 between the canal and campanile1 is a four-square hollow pillar1 each side formed by a separate slab of stone1 to which the iron hasps are still attached that once secured the ,venetian standard4 ,the cathedral itself occupies the northern angle of the field1 encumbered with modern buildings1 small outhouse-like chapels1 and wastes of white wall with blank square windows1 and itself utterly defaced in the whole body of it1 nothing but the apse having been spared2 the original plan is only discoverable by careful examination1 and even then but partially4 ,the whole impression and effect of the building are irretrievably lost1 but the fragments of it are still most precious4 ,we must first briefly state what is known of its history4 ,,viii4 ,the legends of the ,romish ,church1 though generally more insipid and less varied than those of ,paganism1 deserve audience from us on this ground1 if on no other1 that they have once been sincerely believed by good men1 and have had no ineffective agency in the foundation of the existent ,european mind4 ,the reader must not therefore accuse me of trifling1 when ,i record for him the first piece of information ,i have been able to collect respecting the cathedral of ,murano3 namely1 that the emperor ,otho the ,great1 being overtaken by a storm on the ,adriatic1 vowed1 if he were preserved1 to build and dedicate a church to the ,virgin1 in whatever place might be most pleasing to her2 that the storm thereupon abated2 and the ,virgin appearing to ,otho in a dream showed him1 covered with red lilies1 that very triangular field on which we were but now standing1 amidst the ragged weeds and shattered pavement4 ,the emperor obeyed the vision2 and the church was consecrated on the #aeth of ,august1 #ieg4 ,,ix4 ,whatever degree of credence we may feel disposed to attach to this piece of history1 there is no question that a church was built on this spot before the close of the tenth century3 since in the year #iii we find the incumbent of the ,basilica 7note this word1 it is of some importance7 di ,santa ,maria ,plebania di ,murano taking an oath of obedience to the ,bishop of the ,altinat church1 and engaging at the same time to give the said bishop his dinner on the ,domenica in ,albis1 when the prelate held a confirmation in the mother church1 as it was then commonly called1 of ,murano4 ,from this period1 for more than a century1 ,i can find no records of any alterations made in the fabric of the church1 but there exist very full details of the quarrels which arose between its incumbents and those of ,san ,stefano1 ,san ,cipriano1 ,san ,salvatore1 and the other churches of ,murano1 touching the due obedience which their less numerous or less ancient brotherhoods owed to ,st4 ,mary's4 ,these differences seem to have been renewed at the election of every new abbot by each of the fraternities1 and must have been growing serious when the patriarch of ,grado1 ,henry ,dandolo1 interfered in #aajb1 and1 in order to seal a peace between the two principal opponents1 ordered that the abbot of ,st4 ,stephen's should be present at the service in ,st4 ,mary's on the night of the ,epiphany1 and that the abbot of ,st4 ,mary's should visit him of ,st4 ,stephen's on ,st4 ,stephen's day2 and that then the two abbots should eat apples and drink good wine together1 in peace and charity4#aj ,x4 ,but even this kindly effort seems to have been without result3 the irritated pride of the antagonists remained unsoothed by the love-feast of ,st4 ,stephen's day2 and the breach continued to widen until the abbot of ,st4 ,mary's obtained a timely accession to his authority in the year #aabe4 ,the ,doge ,domenico ,michele1 having in the second crusade secured such substantial advantages for the ,venetians as might well counterbalance the loss of part of their trade with the ,east1 crowned his successes by obtaining possession in ,cephalonia of the body of ,st4 ,donato1 bishop of ,euroea2 which treasure he having presented on his return to the ,murano basilica1 that church was thenceforward called the church of ,sts4 ,mary and ,donato4 ,nor was the body of the saint its only acquisition3 ,st4 ,donato's principal achievement had been the destruction of a terrible dragon in ,epirus2 ,michele brought home the bones of the dragon as well as of the saint2 the latter were put in a marble sarcophagus1 and the former hung up over the high altar4 ,,xi4 ,but the clergy of ,st4 ,stefano were indomitable4 ,at the very moment when their adversaries had received this formidable accession of strength1 they had the audacity ad onta de' replicati giuramenti1 e dell'inveterata consuetudine1#aa to refuse to continue in the obedience which they had vowed to their mother church4 ,the matter was tried in a provincial council2 the votaries of ,st4 ,stephen were condemned1 and remained quiet for about twenty years1 in wholesome dread of the authority conferred on the abbot of ,st4 ,donate1 by the ,pope's legate1 to suspend any o the clergy of the island from their office if they refused submission4 ,in #aagb1 however1 they appealed to ,pope ,alexander ,,iii1 and were condemned again3 and we find the struggle renewed at every promising opportunity1 during the course of the #abth and #acth centuries2 until at last1 finding ,st4 ,donate and the dragon together too strong for him1 the abbot of ,st4 ,stefano discovered in his church the bodies of two hundred martyrs at once6--a discovery1 it is to be remembered1 in some sort equivalent in those days to that of ,california in ours4 ,the inscription1 however1 on the faade of the church1 recorded it with quiet dignity3--,,mccclxxiv4 a di ,,xiv4 di ,aprile4 ,furono trovati nella presente chiesa del protomartire ,san ,stefano1 duecento e pi corpi de' ,santi ,martiri1 dal ,ven4 ,prete ,matteo ,fradello1 piovano della chiesa4#ab ,corner1 who gives this inscription1 which no longer exists1 goes on to explain with infinite gravity1 that the bodies in question1 being of infantile form and stature1 are reported by tradition to have belonged to those fortunate innocents who suffered martyrdom under ,king ,herod2 but that when1 or by whom1 the church was enriched with so vast a treasure1 is not manifested by any document4#ac ,,xii4 ,the issue of the struggle is not to our present purpose4 ,we have already arrived at the fourteenth century without finding record of any effort made by the clergy of ,st4 ,mary's to maintain their influence by restoring or beautifying their basilica2 which is the only point at present of importance to us4 ,that great alterations were made in it at the time of the acquisition of the body of ,st4 ,donato is however highly probable1 the mosaic pavement of the interior1 which bears its date inscribed1 #aadj1 being probably the last of the additions4 ,i believe that no part of the ancient church can be shown to be of more recent date than this2 and ,i shall not occupy the reader's time by any inquiry respecting the epochs or authors of the destructive modern restorations2 the wreck of the old fabric1 breaking out beneath them here and there1 is generally distinguishable from them at a glance2 and it is enough for the reader to know that none of these truly ancient fragments can be assigned to a more recent date than #aadj1 and that some of them may with probability be looked upon as remains of the shell of the first church1 erected in the course of the latter half of the tenth century4 ,we shall perhaps obtain some further reason for this belief as we examine these remains themselves4 ,,xiii4 ,of the body of the church1 unhappily1 they are few and obscure2 but the general form and extent of the building1 as shown in the plan1 ,plate ,i4 fig4 #b1 are determined1 first1 by the breadth of the uninjured east end ,d ,e2 secondly1 by some remains of the original brickwork of the clerestory1 and in all probability of the side walls also1 though these have been refaced2 and finally by the series of nave shafts1 which are still perfect4 ,the doors ,a and ,b may or may not be in their original positions2 there must of course have been always1 as now1 a principal entrance at the west end4 ,the ground plan is composed1 like that of ,torcello1 of nave and aisles only1 but the clerestory has transepts extending as far as the outer wall of the aisles4 ,the semicircular apse1 thrown out in the centre of the east end1 is now the chief feature of interest in the church1 though the nave shafts and the eastern extremities of the aisles1 outside1 are also portions of the original building2 the latter having been modernized in the interior1 it cannot now be ascertained whether1 as is probable1 the aisles had once round ends as well as the choir4 ,the spaces ,f ,g form small chapels1 of which ,g has a straight terminal wall behind its altar1 and ,f a curved one1 marked by the dotted line2 the partitions which divide these chapels from the presbytery are also indicated by dotted lines1 being modern work4 ,,xiv4 ,the plan is drawn carefully to scale1 but the relation in which its proportions are disposed can hardly be appreciated by the eye4 ,the width of the nave from shaft to opposite shaft is #cb feet #h inches3 of the aisles1 from the shaft to the wall1 #af feet #b inches1 or allowing #b inches for the thickness of the modern wainscot1 #af feet #d inches1 half the breadth of the nave exactly4 ,the intervals between the shafts are exactly one fourth of the width of the nave1 or #h feet #b inches1 and the distance between the great piers which form the pseudo-transept is #bd feet #f inches1 exactly three times the interval of the shafts4 ,so the four distances are accurately in arithmetical proportion2 i4e4 ,ft4 ,in4 ,interval of shafts #h #b ,width of aisle #af #d ,width of transept #bd #f ,width of nave #cb #h ,the shafts average #e feet #d inches in circumference1 as near the base as they can be got at1 being covered with wood2 and the broadest sides of the main piers are #d feet #g inches wide1 their narrowest sides #c feet #f inches4 ,the distance a c from the outmost angle of these piers to the beginning of the curve of the apse is #be feet1 and from that point the apse is nearly semicircular1 but it is so encumbered with renaissance fittings that its form cannot be ascertained with perfect accuracy4 ,it is roofed by a concha1 or semi-dome2 and the external arrangement of its walls provides for the security of this dome by what is1 in fact1 a system of buttresses as effective and definite as that of any of the northern churches1 although the buttresses are obtained entirely by adaptations of the ,roman shaft and arch1 the lower story being formed by a thick mass of wall lightened by ordinary semicircular round-headed niches1 like those used so extensively afterwards in renaissance architecture1 each niche flanked by a pair of shafts standing clear of the wall1 and bearing deeply moulded arches thrown over the niche4 ,the wall with its pillars thus forms a series of massy buttresses 7as seen in the ground plan71 on the top of which is an open gallery1 backed by a thinner wall1 and roofed by arches whose shafts are set above the pairs of shafts below4 ,on the heads of these arches rests the roof4 ,we have1 therefore1 externally a heptagonal apse1 chiefly of rough and common brick1 only with marble shafts and a few marble ornaments2 but for that very reason all the more interesting1 because it shows us what may be done1 and what was done1 with materials such as are now at our own command2 and because in its proportions1 and in the use of the few ornaments it possesses1 it displays a delicacy of feeling rendered doubly notable by the roughness of the work in which laws so subtle are observed1 and with which so thoughtful ornamentation is associated4 ,,xv4 ,first1 for its proportions3 ,i shall have occasion in ,chapter ,v4 to dwell at some length on the peculiar subtlety of the early ,venetian perception for ratios of magnitude2 the relations of the sides of this heptagonal apse supply one of the first and most curious instances of it4 ,the proportions above given of the nave and aisles might have been dictated by a mere love of mathematical precision2 but those of the apse could only have resulted from a true love of harmony4 ,in fig4 #f1 ,plate ,i4 the plan of this part of the church is given on a large scale1 showing that its seven external sides are arranged on a line less than a semicircle1 so that if the figure were completed1 it would have sixteen sides2 and it will be observed also1 that the seven sides are arranged in four magnitudes1 the widest being the central one4 ,the brickwork is so much worn away1 that the measures of the arches are not easily ascertainable1 but those of the plinth on which they stand1 which is nearly uninjured1 may be obtained accurately4 ,this plinth is indicated by the open line in the ground plan1 and its sides measure respectively3 ,ft4 ,in4 #ast4 a b in plan #f #g #bnd4 b c #g #g #crd4 c d #g #e #dth4 d e 7central7 #g #aj #eth4 e f #g #e #fth f g #g #h #gth4 g h #f #aj ,,xvi4 ,now observe what subtle feeling is indicated by this delicacy of proportion4 ,how fine must the perceptions of grace have been in those builders who could not be content without some change between the second and third1 the fifth and sixth terms of proportion1 such as should oppose the general direction of its cadence1 and yet were content with a diminution of two inches on a breadth of seven feet and a half6 ,for ,i do not suppose that the reader will think the curious lessening of the third and fifth arch a matter of accident1 and even if he did so1 ,i shall be able to prove to him hereafter that it was not1 but that the early builders were always desirous of obtaining some alternate proportion of this kind4 ,the relations of the numbers are not easily comprehended in the form of feet and inches1 but if we reduce the first four of them into inches1 and then subtract some constant number1 suppose #ge1 from them all1 the remainders #d1 #af1 #ad1 #ai1 will exhibit the ratio of proportion in a clearer1 though exaggerated form4 ,,xvii4 ,the pairs of circular spots at b1 c1 d1 etc41 on the ground plan fig4 #f1 represent the bearing shafts1 which are all of solid marble as well as their capitals4 ,their measures and various other particulars respecting them are given in ,appendix #f4 ,apse of ,murano2 here ,i only wish the reader to note the coloring of their capitals4 ,those of the two single shafts in the angles 7a1 h7 are both of deep purple marble2 the two next pairs1 b and g1 are of white marble2 the pairs c and f are of purple1 and d and e are of white3 thus alternating with each other on each side2 two white meeting in the centre4 ,now observe1 the purple capitals are all left plain2 the white are all sculptured4 ,for the old builders knew that by carving the purple capitals they would have injured them in two ways3 first1 they would have mixed a certain quantity of grey shadow with the surface hue1 and so adulterated the purity of the color2 secondly1 they would have drawn away the thoughts from the color1 and prevented the mind from fixing upon it or enjoying it1 by the degree of attention which the sculpture would have required4 ,so they left their purple capitals full broad masses of color2 and sculptured the white ones1 which would otherwise have been devoid of interest4 ,,xviii4 ,but the feature which is most to be noted in this apse is a band of ornament1 which runs round it like a silver girdle1 composed of sharp wedges of marble1 preciously inlaid1 and set like jewels into the brickwork2 above it there is another band of triangular recesses in the bricks1 of nearly similar shape1 and it seems equally strange that all the marbles should have fallen from it1 or that it should have been originally destitute of them4 ,the reader may choose his hypothesis2 but there is quite enough left to interest us in the lower band1 which is fortunately left in its original state1 as is sufficiently proved by the curious niceties in the arrangement of its colors1 which are assuredly to be attributed to the care of the first builder4 ,a word or two1 in the first place1 respecting the means of color at his disposal4 ,,xix4 ,i stated that the building was1 for the most part1 composed of yellow brick4 ,this yellow is very nearly pure1 much more positive and somewhat darker than that of our ,english light brick1 and the material of the brick is very good and hard1 looking1 in places1 almost vitrified1 and so compact as to resemble stone4 ,together with this brick occurs another of a deep full red1 and more porous substance1 which is used for decoration chiefly1 while all the parts requiring strength are composed of the yellow brick4 ,both these materials are cast into any shape and size the builder required1 either into curved pieces for the arches1 or flat tiles for filling the triangles2 and1 what is still more curious1 the thickness of the yellow bricks used for the walls varies considerably1 from two inches to four2 and their length also1 some of the larger pieces used in important positions being a foot and a half long4 ,with these two kinds of brick1 the builder employed five or six kinds of marble3 pure white1 and white veined with purple2 a brecciated marble of white and black2 a brecciated marble of white and deep green2 another1 deep red1 or nearly of the color of ,egyptian porphyry2 and a grey and black marble1 in fine layers4 ,,xx4 ,the method of employing these materials will be understood at once by a reference to the opposite plate 7,plate ,,iii471 which represents two portions of the lower band4 ,i could not succeed in expressing the variation and chequering of color in marble1 by real tints in the print2 and have been content1 therefore1 to give them in line engraving4 ,the different triangles are1 altogether1 of ten kinds3 a4 ,pure white marble with sculptured surface 7as the third and fifth in the upper series of ,plate ,,iii474 b4 ,cast triangle of red brick with a sculptured round-headed piece of white marble inlaid 7as the first and seventh of the upper series1 ,plate ,,iii474 c4 ,a plain triangle of greenish black marble1 now perhaps considerably paler in color than when first employed 7as the second and sixth of the upper series of ,plate ,,iii474 d4 ,cast red brick triangle1 with a diamond inlaid of the above-mentioned black marble 7as the fourth in the upper series of ,plate ,,iii474 e4 ,cast white brick1 with an inlaid round-headed piece of marble1 variegated with black and yellow1 or white and violet 7not seen in the plate74 f4 ,occurs only once1 a green-veined marble1 forming the upper part of the triangle1 with a white piece below4 g4 ,occurs only once4 ,a brecciated marble of intense black and pure white1 the centre of the lower range in ,plate ,,iii4 h4 ,sculptured white marble with a triangle of veined purple marble inserted 7as the first1 third1 fifth1 and seventh of the lower range in ,plate ,,iii474 i4 ,yellow or white marble veined with purple 7as the second and sixth of the lower range in ,plate ,,iii474 k4 ,pure purple marble1 not seen in this plate4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,iii4 ,,inlaid ,,bands ,,of ,,murano4 ,,xxi4 ,the band1 then1 composed of these triangles1 set close to each other in varied but not irregular relations1 is thrown1 like a necklace of precious stones1 round the apse and along the ends of the aisles2 each side of the apse taking1 of course1 as many triangles as its width permits4 ,if the reader will look back to the measures of the sides of the apse1 given before1 p4 #db1 he will see that the first and seventh of the series1 being much narrower than the rest1 cannot take so many triangles in their band4 ,accordingly1 they have only six each1 while the other five sides have seven4 ,of these groups of seven triangles each1 that used for the third and fifth sides of the apse is the uppermost in ,plate ,,iii42 and that used for the centre of the apse1 and of the whole series1 is the lowermost in the same plate2 the piece of black and white marble being used to emphasize the centre of the chain1 exactly as a painter would use a dark touch for a similar purpose4 ,,xxii4 ,and now1 with a little trouble1 we can set before the reader1 at a glance1 the arrangement of the groups along the entire extremity of the church4 ,there are thirteen recesses1 indicative of thirteen arches1 seen in the ground plan1 fig4 #b1 ,plate ,i4 ,of these1 the second and twelfth arches rise higher than the rest2 so high as to break the decorated band2 and the groups of triangles we have to enumerate are1 therefore1 only eleven in number2 one above each of the eleven low arches4 ,and of these eleven1 the first and second1 tenth and eleventh1 are at the ends of the aisles2 while the third to the ninth1 inclusive1 go round the apse4 ,thus1 in the following table1 the numerals indicate the place of each entire group 7counting from the south to the north side of the church1 or from left to right71 and the letters indicate the species of triangle of which it is composed1 as described in the list given above4 #f4 h4 i4 h4 g4 h4 i4 h4 #e4 b4 c4 a4 d4 a4 c4 b4 #g4 b4 c4 a4 d4 a4 c4 b4 #d4 b4 a4 b4 c4 a4 e4 a4 #h4 a4 e4 a4 c4 b4 a4 b4 #c4 b4 a4 b4 e4 b4 a4 #i4 a4 b4 e4 b4 a4 b4 #b4 a4 b4 c4 #aj4 a4 b4 c4 b4 #a4 a4 b4 c4 b4 a4 #aa4 b4 a4 c4 f4 a4 a4 ,the central group is put first1 that it may be seen how the series on the two sides of the apse answer each other4 ,it was a very curious freak to insert the triangle e1 in the outermost place but one of both the fourth and eighth sides of the apse1 and in the outermost but two in the third and ninth2 in neither case having any balance to it in its own group1 and the real balance being only effected on the other side of the apse1 which it is impossible that any one should see at the same time4 ,this is one of the curious pieces of system which so often occur in medival work1 of which the key is now lost4 ,the groups at the ends of the transepts correspond neither in number nor arrangement2 we shall presently see why1 but must first examine more closely the treatment of the triangles themselves1 and the nature of the floral sculpture employed upon them4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,iv4 ,,sculptures ,,of ,,murano4 ,,xxiii4 ,as the scale of ,plate ,,iii4 is necessarily small1 ,i have given three of the sculptured triangles on a larger scale in ,plate ,,iv4 opposite4 ,fig4 #c is one of the four in the lower series of ,plate ,,iv41 and figs4 #d and #e from another group4 ,the forms of the trefoils are here seen more clearly2 they1 and all the other portions of the design1 are thrown out in low and flat relief1 the intermediate spaces being cut out to the depth of about a quarter of an inch4 ,i believe these vacant spaces were originally filled with a black composition1 which is used in similar sculptures at ,st4 ,mark's1 and of which ,i found some remains in an archivolt moulding here1 though not in the triangles4 ,the surface of the whole would then be perfectly smooth1 and the ornamental form relieved by a ground of dark grey2 but1 even though this ground is lost1 the simplicity of the method insures the visibility of all its parts at the necessary distance 7#ag or #ah feet71 and the quaint trefoils have a crispness and freshness of effect which ,i found it almost impossible to render in a drawing4 ,nor let us fail to note in passing how strangely delightful to the human mind the trefoil always is4 ,we have it here repeated five or six hundred times in the space of a few yards1 and yet are never weary of it4 ,in fact1 there are two mystical feelings at the root of our enjoyment of this decoration3 the one is the love of trinity in unity1 the other that of the sense of fulness with order2 of every place being instantly filled1 and yet filled with propriety and ease2 the leaves do not push each other1 nor put themselves out of their own way1 and yet whenever there is a vacant space1 a leaf is always ready to step in and occupy it4 ,,xxiv4 ,i said the trefoil was five or six hundred times repeated4 ,it is so1 but observe1 it is hardly ever twice of the same size2 and this law is studiously and resolutely observed4 ,in the carvings a and b of the upper series1 ,plate ,,iii41 the diminution of the leaves might indeed seem merely representative of the growth of the plant4 ,but look at the lower3 the triangles of inlaid purple marble are made much more nearly equilateral than those of white marble1 into whose centres they are set1 so that the leaves may continually diminish in size as the ornament descends at the sides4 ,the reader may perhaps doubt the accuracy of the drawing on the smaller scale1 but in that given larger1 fig4 #c1 ,plate ,,iv41 the angles are all measured1 and the purposeful variation of width in the border therefore admits of no dispute4#ad ,remember how absolutely this principle is that of nature2 the same leaf continually repeated1 but never twice of the same size4 ,look at the clover under your feet1 and then you will see what this ,murano builder meant1 and that he was not altogether a barbarian4 ,,xxv4 ,another point ,i wish the reader to observe is1 the importance attached to color in the mind of the designer4 ,note especially--for it is of the highest importance to see how the great principles of art are carried out through the whole building--that1 as only the white capitals are sculptured below1 only the white triangles are sculptured above4 ,no colored triangle is touched with sculpture2 note also1 that in the two principal groups of the apse1 given in ,plate ,,iii41 the centre of the group is color1 not sculpture1 and the eye is evidently intended to be drawn as much to the chequers of the stone1 as to the intricacies of the chiselling4 ,it will be noticed also how much more precious the lower series1 which is central in the apse1 is rendered1 than the one above it in the plate1 which flanks it3 there is no brick in the lower one1 and three kinds of variegated marble are used in it1 whereas the upper is composed of brick1 with black and white marble only2 and lastly--for this is especially delightful--see how the workman made his chiselling finer where it was to go with the variegated marbles1 and used a bolder pattern with the coarser brick and dark stone4 ,the subtlety and perfection of artistical feeling in all this are so redundant1 that in the building itself the eye can rest upon this colored chain with the same kind of delight that it has in a piece of the embroidery of ,paul ,veronese4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,ii4 ,,xxvi4 ,such being the construction of the lower band1 that of the upper is remarkable only for the curious change in its proportions4 ,the two are separated1 as seen in the little woodcut here at the side1 by a string-course composed of two layers of red bricks1 of which the uppermost projects as a cornice1 and is sustained by an intermediate course of irregular brackets1 obtained by setting the thick yellow bricks edgeways1 in the manner common to this day4 ,but the wall above is carried up perpendicularly from this projection1 so that the whole upper band is advanced to the thickness of a brick over the lower one4 ,the result of this is1 of course1 that each side of the apse is four or five inches broader above than below2 so that the same number of triangles which filled a whole side of the lower band1 leave an inch or two blank at each angle in the upper4 ,this would have looked awkward1 if there had been the least appearance of its being an accidental error2 so that1 in order to draw the eye to it1 and show that it is done on purpose1 the upper triangles are made about two inches higher than the lower ones1 so as to be much more acute in proportion and effect1 and actually to look considerably narrower1 though of the same width at the base4 ,by this means they are made lighter in effect1 and subordinated to the richly decorated series of the lower band1 and the two courses1 instead of repeating1 unite with each other1 and become a harmonious whole4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,v4 ,archivolt in the ,duomo of ,murano4 ,in order1 however1 to make still more sure that this difference in the height of the triangles should not escape the eye1 another course of plain bricks is added above their points1 increasing the width of the band by another two inches4 ,there are five courses of bricks in the lower band1 and it measures #a ft4 #f in4 in height3 there are seven courses in the upper 7of which six fall between the triangles71 and it measures #a ft4 #aj in4 in height1 except at the extremity of the northern aisle1 where for some mysterious reason the intermediate cornice is sloped upwards so as to reduce the upper triangles to the same height as those below4 ,and here1 finally1 observe how determined the builder was that the one series should not be a mere imitation of the other2 he could not now make them acute by additional height--so he here1 and here only1 narrowed their bases1 and we have seven of them above1 to six below4 ,,xxvii4 ,we come now to the most interesting portion of the whole east end1 the archivolt at the end of the northern aisle4 ,it was above stated1 that the band of triangles was broken by two higher arches at the ends of the aisles4 ,that1 however1 on the northern side of the apse does not entirely interrupt1 but lifts it1 and thus forms a beautiful and curious archivolt1 drawn opposite1 in ,plate ,v4 ,the upper band of triangles cannot rise together with the lower1 as it would otherwise break the cornice prepared to receive the second story2 and the curious zigzag with which its triangles die away against the sides of the arch1 exactly as waves break upon the sand1 is one of the most curious features in the structure4 ,it will be also seen that there is a new feature in the treatment of the band itself when it turns the arch4 ,instead of leaving the bricks projecting between the sculptured or colored stones1 reversed triangles of marble are used1 inlaid to an equal depth with the others in the brickwork1 but projecting beyond them so as to produce a sharp dark line of zigzag at their junctions4 ,three of these supplementary stones have unhappily fallen out1 so that it is now impossible to determine the full harmony of color in which they were originally arranged4 ,the central one1 corresponding to the keystone in a common arch1 is1 however1 most fortunately left1 with two lateral ones on the right hand1 and one on the left4 ,,xxviii4 ,the keystone1 if it may be so called1 is of white marble1 the lateral voussoirs of purple2 and these are the only colored stones in the whole building which are sculptured2 but they are sculptured in a way which1 more satisfactorily proves that the principle above stated was understood by the builders1 than if they had been left blank4 ,the object1 observe1 was to make the archivolt as rich as possible2 eight of the white sculptured marbles were used upon it in juxtaposition4 ,had the purple marbles been left altogether plain1 they would have been out of harmony with the elaboration of the rest4 ,it became necessary to touch them with sculpture as a mere sign of carefulness and finish1 but at the same time destroying their colored surface as little as possible4 ,the ornament is merely outlined upon them with a fine incision1 as if it had been etched out on their surface preparatory to being carved4 ,in two of them it is composed merely of three concentric lines1 parallel with the sides of the triangle2 in the third1 it is a wreath of beautiful design1 which ,i have drawn of larger size in fig4 #b1 ,plate ,v41 that the reader may see how completely the surface is left undestroyed by the delicate incisions of the chisel1 and may compare the method of working with that employed on the white stones1 two of which are given in that plate1 figs4 #d and #e4 ,the keystone1 of which we have not yet spoken1 is the only white stone worked with the light incision2 its design not being capable of the kind of workmanship given to the floral ornaments1 and requiring either to be carved in complete relief1 or left as we see it4 ,it is given at fig4 #a of ,plate ,,iv4 ,the sun and moon on each side of the cross are1 as we shall see in the fifth ,chapter1 constantly employed on the keystones of ,byzantine arches4 ,,xxix4 ,we must not pass without notice the grey and green pieces of marble inserted at the flanks of the arch4 ,for1 observe1 there was a difficulty in getting the forms of the triangle into anything like reconciliation at this point1 and a medival artist always delights in a difficulty3 instead of concealing it1 he boasts of it2 and just as we saw above that he directed the eye to the difficulty of filling the expanded sides of the upper band by elongating his triangles1 so here1 having to put in a piece of stone of awkward shape1 he makes that very stone the most conspicuous in the whole arch1 on both sides1 by using in one case a dark1 cold grey2 in the other a vigorous green1 opposed to the warm red and purple and white of the stones above and beside it4 ,the green and white piece on the right is of a marble1 as far as ,i know1 exceedingly rare4 ,i at first thought the white fragments were inlaid1 so sharply are they defined upon their ground4 ,they are indeed inlaid1 but ,i believe it is by nature2 and that the stone is a calcareous breccia of great mineralogical interest4 ,the white spots are of singular value in giving piquancy to the whole range of more delicate transitional hues above4 ,the effect of the whole is1 however1 generally injured by the loss of the three large triangles above4 ,i have no doubt they were purple1 like those which remain1 and that the whole arch was thus one zone of white1 relieved on a purple ground1 encircled by the scarlet cornices of brick1 and the whole chord of color contrasted by the two precious fragments of grey and green at either side4 ,,xxx4 ,the two pieces of carved stone inserted at each side of the arch1 as seen at the bottom of ,plate ,v41 are of different workmanship from the rest2 they do not match each other1 and form part of the evidence which proves that portions of the church had been brought from the mainland4 ,one bears an inscription1 which1 as its antiquity is confirmed by the shapelessness of its letters1 ,i was much gratified by not being able to read2 but ,m4 ,lazari1 the intelligent author of the latest and best ,venetian guide1 with better skill1 has given as much of it as remains1 thus3 ,illustration3 ,t ,,scemariedigenetricisetbeatiestefanimar t ,,iriegoindignvsetpeccaturdomenicust ,i have printed the letters as they are placed in the inscription1 in order that the reader may form some idea of the difficulty of reading such legends when the letters1 thus thrown into one heap1 are themselves of strange forms1 and half worn away2 any gaps which at all occur between them coming in the wrong places4 ,there is no doubt1 however1 as to the reading of this fragment3--,t 444 ,sancte ,marie ,domini ,genetricis et beati ,estefani martiri ego indignus et peccator ,domenicus ,t4 ,on these two initial and final ,t's1 expanding one into ,templum1 the other into ,torcellanus1 ,m4 ,lazari founds an ingenious conjecture that the inscription records the elevation of the church under a certain bishop ,dominic of ,torcello 7named in the ,altinat ,chronicle71 who flourished in the middle of the ninth century4 ,if this were so1 as the inscription occurs broken off on a fragment inserted scornfully in the present edifice1 this edifice must be of the twelfth century1 worked with fragments taken from the ruins of that built in the ninth4 ,the two ,t's are1 however1 hardly a foundation large enough to build the church upon1 a hundred years before the date assigned to it both by history and tradition 7see above1 ,,viii473 and the reader has yet to be made aware of the principal fact bearing on the question4 ,,xxxi4 ,above the first story of the apse runs1 as he knows already1 a gallery under open arches1 protected by a light balustrade4 ,this balustrade is worked on the outside with mouldings1 of which ,i shall only say at present that they are of exactly the same school as the greater part of the work of the existing church4 ,but the great horizontal pieces of stone which form the top of this balustrade are fragments of an older building turned inside out4 ,they are covered with sculptures on the back1 only to be seen by mounting into the gallery4 ,they have once had an arcade of low wide arches traced on their surface1 the spandrils filled with leafage1 and archivolts enriched with studded chainwork and with crosses in their centres4 ,these pieces have been used as waste marble by the architect of the existing apse4 ,the small arches of the present balustrade are cut mercilessly through the old work1 and the profile of the balustrade is cut out of what was once the back of the stone2 only some respect is shown for the crosses in the old design1 the blocks are cut so that these shall be not only left uninjured1 but come in the centre of the balustrades4 ,,xxxii4 ,now let the reader observe carefully that this balustrade of ,murano is a fence of other things than the low gallery round the deserted apse4 ,it is a barrier between two great schools of early architecture4 ,on one side it was cut by ,romanesque workmen of the early ,christian ages1 and furnishes us with a distinct type of a kind of ornament which1 as we meet with other examples of it1 we shall be able to describe in generic terms1 and to throw back behind this balustrade1 out of our way4 ,the front of the balustrade presents us with a totally different condition of design1 less rich1 more graceful1 and here shown in its simplest possible form4 ,from the outside of this bar of marble we shall commence our progress in the study of existing ,venetian architecture4 ,the only question is1 do we begin from the tenth or from the twelfth century8 ,,xxxiii4 ,i was in great hopes once of being able to determine this positively2 but the alterations in all the early buildings of ,venice are so numerous1 and the foreign fragments introduced so innumerable1 that ,i was obliged to leave the question doubtful4 ,but one circumstance must be noted1 bearing upon it closely4 ,in the woodcut on page #ej1 ,fig4 ,,iii41 b is an archivolt of ,murano1 a one of ,st4 ,mark's2 the latter acknowledged by all historians and all investigators to be of the twelfth century4 ,all the twelfth century archivolts in ,venice1 without exception1 are on the model of a1 differing only in their decorations and sculpture4 ,there is not one which resembles that of ,murano4 ,but the deep mouldings of ,murano are almost exactly similar to those of ,st4 ,michele of ,pavia1 and other ,lombard churches built1 some as early as the seventh1 others in the eighth1 ninth1 and tenth centuries4 ,on this ground it seems to me probable that the existing apse of ,murano is part of the original earliest church1 and that the inscribed fragments used in it have been brought from the mainland4 ,the balustrade1 however1 may still be later than the rest2 it will be examined1 hereafter1 more carefully4#ae ,i have not space to give any farther account of the exterior of the building1 though one half of what is remarkable in it remains untold4 ,we must now see what is left of interest within the walls4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,iii4 ,,xxxiv4 ,all hope is taken away by our first glance2 for it falls on a range of shafts whose bases are concealed by wooden panelling1 and which sustain arches decorated in the most approved style of ,renaissance upholstery1 with stucco roses in squares under the soffits1 and egg and arrow mouldings on the architraves1 gilded1 on a ground of spotty black and green1 with a small pink-faced and black-eyed cherub on every keystone2 the rest of the church being for the most part concealed either by dirty hangings1 or dirtier whitewash1 or dim pictures on warped and wasting canvas2 all vulgar1 vain1 and foul4 ,yet let us not turn back1 for in the shadow of the apse our more careful glance shows us a ,greek ,madonna1 pictured on a field of gold2 and we feel giddy at the first step we make on the pavement1 for it1 also1 is of ,greek mosaic waved like the sea1 and dyed like a dove's neck4 ,,xxxv4 ,nor are the original features of the rest of the edifice altogether indecipherable2 the entire series of shafts marked in the ground plan on each side of the nave1 from the western entrance to the apse1 are nearly uninjured2 and ,i believe the stilted arches they sustain are those of the original fabric1 though the masonry is covered by the ,renaissance stucco mouldings4 ,their capitals1 for a wonder1 are left bare1 and appear to have sustained no farther injury than has resulted from the insertion of a large brass chandelier into each of their abaci1 each chandelier carrying a sublime wax candle two inches thick1 fastened with wire to the wall above4 ,the due arrangement of these appendages1 previous to festal days1 can only be effected from a ladder set against the angle of the abacus2 and ten minutes before ,i wrote this sentence1 ,i had the privilege of watching the candlelighter at his work1 knocking his ladder about the heads of the capitals as if they had given him personal offence4 ,he at last succeeded in breaking away one of the lamps altogether1 with a bit of the marble of the abacus2 the whole falling in ruin to the pavement1 and causing much consultation and clamor among a tribe of beggars who were assisting the sacristan with their wisdom respecting the festal arrangements4 ,,xxxvi4 ,it is fortunate that the capitals themselves1 being somewhat rudely cut1 can bear this kind of treatment better than most of those in ,venice4 ,they are all founded on the ,corinthian type1 but the leaves are in every one different3 those of the easternmost capital of the southern range are the best1 and very beautiful1 but presenting no feature of much interest1 their workmanship being inferior to most of the imitations of ,corinthian common at the period2 much more to the rich fantasies which we have seen at ,torcello4 ,the apse itself1 to-day 7#abth ,september1 #ahea71 is not to be described2 for just in front of it1 behind the altar1 is a magnificent curtain of new red velvet with a gilt edge and two golden tassels1 held up in a dainty manner by two angels in the upholsterer's service2 and above all1 for concentration of effect1 a star or sun1 some five feet broad1 the spikes of which conceal the whole of the figure of the ,madonna except the head and hands4 ,,xxxvii4 ,the pavement is however still left open1 and it is of infinite interest1 although grievously distorted and defaced4 ,for whenever a new chapel has been built1 or a new altar erected1 the pavement has been broken up and readjusted so as to surround the newly inserted steps or stones with some appearance of symmetry2 portions of it either covered or carried away1 others mercilessly shattered or replaced by modern imitations1 and those of very different periods1 with pieces of the old floor left here and there in the midst of them1 and worked round so as to deceive the eye into acceptance of the whole as ancient4 ,the portion1 however1 which occupies the western extremity of the nave1 and the parts immediately adjoining it in the aisles1 are1 ,i believe1 in their original positions1 and very little injured3 they are composed chiefly of groups of peacocks1 lions1 stags1 and griffins1--two of each in a group1 drinking out of the same vase1 or shaking claws together1--enclosed by interlacing bands1 and alternating with chequer or star patterns1 and here and there an attempt at representation of architecture1 all worked in marble mosaic4 ,the floors of ,torcello and of ,st4 ,mark's are executed in the same manner2 but what remains at ,murano is finer than either1 in the extraordinary play of color obtained by the use of variegated marbles4 ,at ,st4 ,mark's the patterns are more intricate1 and the pieces far more skilfully set together2 but each piece is there commonly of one color3 at ,murano every fragment is itself variegated1 and all are arranged with a skill and feeling not to be caught1 and to be observed with deep reverence1 for that pavement is not dateless1 like the rest of the church2 it bears its date on one of its central circles1 #aadj1 and is1 in my mind1 one of the most precious monuments in ,italy1 showing thus early1 and in those rude chequers which the bared knee of the ,murano fisher wears in its daily bending1 the beginning of that mighty spirit of ,venetian color1 which was to be consummated in ,titian4 ,,xxxviii4 ,but we must quit the church for the present1 for its garnishings are completed2 the candles are all upright in their sockets1 and the curtains drawn into festoons1 and a paste-board crescent1 gay with artificial flowers1 has been attached to the capital of every pillar1 in order1 together with the gilt angels1 to make the place look as much like ,paradise as possible4 ,if we return to-morrow1 we shall find it filled with woful groups of aged men and women1 wasted and fever-struck1 fixed in paralytic supplication1 half-kneeling1 half-couched upon the pavement2 bowed down1 partly in feebleness1 partly in a fearful devotion1 with their grey clothes cast far over their faces1 ghastly and settled into a gloomy animal misery1 all but the glittering eyes and muttering lips4 ,fit inhabitants1 these1 for what was once the ,garden of ,venice1 a terrestrial paradise1--a place of nymphs and demi-gods6#af ,,xxxix4 ,we return1 yet once again1 on the following day4 ,worshippers and objects of worship1 the sickly crowd and gilded angels1 all are gone2 and there1 far in the apse1 is seen the sad ,madonna standing in her folded robe1 lifting her hands in vanity of blessing4 ,there is little else to draw away our thoughts from the solitary image4 ,an old wooden tablet1 carved into a rude effigy of ,san ,donato1 which occupies the central niche in the lower part of the tribune1 has an interest of its own1 but is unconnected with the history of the older church4 ,the faded frescoes of saints1 which cover the upper tier of the wall of the apse1 are also of comparatively recent date1 much more the piece of ,renaissance workmanship1 shaft and entablature1 above the altar1 which has been thrust into the midst of all1 and has cut away part of the feet of the ,madonna4 ,nothing remains of the original structure but the semi-dome itself1 the cornice whence it springs1 which is the same as that used on the exterior of the church1 and the border and face-arch which surround it4 ,the ground of the dome is of gold1 unbroken except by the upright ,madonna1 and usual inscription1 ,m ,r ,greek3 ,theta ,v4 ,the figure wears a robe of blue1 deeply fringed with gold1 which seems to be gathered on the head and thrown back on the shoulders1 crossing the breast1 and falling in many folds to the ground4 ,the under robe1 shown beneath it where it opens at the breast1 is of the same color2 the whole1 except the deep gold fringe1 being simply the dress of the women of the time4 ,le donne1 anco elle del #aajj1 vestivano di turchino con manti in spalla1 che le coprivano dinanzi e di dietro4#ag ,round the dome there is a colored mosaic border2 and on the edge of its arch1 legible by the whole congregation1 this inscription3 ,,quos ,,eva ,,contrivit1 ,,pia ,,virgo ,,maria ,,redemit2 ,,hanc ,,cuncti ,,laudent1 ,,qui ,,cristi ,,munere ,,gaudent4#ah ,the whole edifice is1 therefore1 simply a temple to the ,virgin3 to her is ascribed the fact of ,redemption1 and to her its praise4 ,,xl4 ,and is this1 it will be asked of me1 the time1 is this the worship1 to which you would have us look back with reverence and regret8 ,inasmuch as redemption is ascribed to the ,virgin1 ,no4 ,inasmuch as redemption is a thing desired1 believed1 rejoiced in1 ,yes1--and ,yes a thousand times4 ,as far as the ,virgin is worshipped in place of ,god1 ,no2 but as far as there is the evidence of worship itself1 and of the sense of a ,divine presence1 ,yes4 ,for there is a wider division of men than that into ,christian and ,pagan3 before we ask what a man worships1 we have to ask whether he worships at all4 ,observe ,christ's own words on this head3 ,god is a spirit2 and they that worship ,him must worship ,him in spirit1 and in truth4 ,the worshipping in spirit comes first1 and it does not necessarily imply the worshipping in truth4 ,therefore1 there is first the broad division of men into ,spirit worshippers and ,flesh worshippers2 and then1 of the ,spirit worshippers1 the farther division into ,christian and ,pagan1--worshippers in ,falsehood or in ,truth4 ,i therefore1 for the moment1 omit all inquiry how far the ,mariolatry of the early church did indeed eclipse ,christ1 or what measure of deeper reverence for the ,son of ,god was still felt through all the grosser forms of ,madonna worship4 ,let that worship be taken at its worst2 let the goddess of this dome of ,murano be looked upon as just in the same sense an idol as the ,athene of the ,acropolis1 or the ,syrian ,queen of ,heaven2 and then1 on this darkest assumption1 balance well the difference between those who worship and those who worship not2--that difference which there is in the sight of ,god1 in all ages1 between the calculating1 smiling1 self-sustained1 self-governed man1 and the believing1 weeping1 wondering1 struggling1 ,heaven-governed man2--between the men who say in their hearts there is no ,god1 and those who acknowledge a ,god at every step1 if haply they might feel after ,him and find ,him4 ,for that is indeed the difference which we shall find1 in the end1 between the builders of this day and the builders on that sand island long ago4 ,they did honor something out of themselves2 they did believe in spiritual presence judging1 animating1 redeeming them2 they built to its honor and for its habitation2 and were content to pass away in nameless multitudes1 so only that the labor of their hands might fix in the sea-wilderness a throne for their guardian angel4 ,in this was their strength1 and there was indeed a ,spirit walking with them on the waters1 though they could not discern the form thereof1 though the ,masters voice came not to them1 ,it is ,i4 ,what their error cost them1 we shall see hereafter2 for it remained when the majesty and the sincerity of their worship had departed1 and remains to this day4 ,mariolatry is no special characteristic of the twelfth century2 on the outside of that very tribune of ,san ,donato1 in its central recess1 is an image of the ,virgin which receives the reverence once paid to the blue vision upon the inner dome4 ,with rouged cheeks and painted brows1 the frightful doll stands in wretchedness of rags1 blackened with the smoke of the votive lamps at its feet2 and if we would know what has been lost or gained by ,italy in the six hundred years that have worn the marbles of ,murano1 let us consider how far the priests who set up this to worship1 the populace who have this to adore1 may be nobler than the men who conceived that lonely figure standing on the golden field1 or than those to whom it seemed to receive their prayer at evening1 far away1 where they only saw the blue clouds rising out of the burning sea4 ,,footnotes #aj ,mela1 e buon vino1 con pace e carit1 ,memorie ,storiche de' ,veneti ,primi e ,secondi1 di ,jacopo ,filiasi 7,padua1 #ahaa71 tom4 iii4 cap4 #bc4 ,perhaps1 in the choice of the abbot's cheer1 there was some occult reference to the verse of ,solomon's ,song3 ,stay me with flagons1 comfort me with apples4 #aa ,notizie ,storiche delle ,chiese di ,venezia1 illustrate da ,flaminio ,corner 7,padua1 #ageh71 p4 #fae4 #ab ,on the #adth day of ,april1 #acgd1 there were found1 in this church of the first martyr ,st4 ,stefano1 two hundred and more bodies of holy martyrs1 by the venerable priest1 ,matthew ,fradello1 incumbent of the church4 #ac ,notizie ,storiche1 p4 #fbj4 #ad ,the intention is farther confirmed by the singular variation in the breadth of the small fillet which encompasses the inner marble4 ,it is much narrower at the bottom than at the sides1 so as to recover the original breadth in the lower border4 #ae ,its elevation is given to scale in fig4 #d1 ,plate ,,xiii41 below4 #af ,luogo de' ninfe e de' semidei4--,m4 ,andrea ,calmo1 quoted by ,mutinelli1 ,annali ,urbani di ,venezia 7,venice1 #ahda71 p4 #cfb4 #ag ,the women1 even as far back as #aajj1 wore dresses of blue1 with mantles on the shoulder1 which clothed them before and behind4--,sansorino4 ,it would be difficult to imagine a dress more modest and beautiful4 ,see ,appendix #g4 #ah ,whom ,eve destroyed1 the pious ,virgin ,mary redeemed2 ,all praise her1 who rejoice in the ,grace of ,christ4 ,vide ,appendix #h4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,st4 ,,mark',s4 ,i4 ,and so ,barnabas took ,mark1 and sailed unto ,cyprus4 ,if as the shores of ,asia lessened upon his sight1 the spirit of prophecy had entered into the heart of the weak disciple who had turned back when his hand was on the plough1 and who had been judged1 by the chiefest of ,christ's captains1 unworthy thenceforward to go forth with him to the work1#ai how wonderful would he have thought it1 that by the lion symbol in future ages he was to be represented among men6 how woful1 that the war-cry of his name should so often reanimate the rage of the soldier1 on those very plains where he himself had failed in the courage of the ,christian1 and so often dye with fruitless blood that very ,cypriot ,sea1 over whose waves1 in repentance and shame1 he was following the ,son of ,consolation6 ,,ii4 ,that the ,venetians possessed themselves of his body in the ninth century1 there appears no sufficient reason to doubt1 nor that it was principally in consequence of their having done so1 that they chose him for their patron saint4 ,there exists1 however1 a tradition that before he went into ,egypt he had founded the ,church at ,aquileia1 and was thus1 in some sort1 the first bishop of the ,venetian isles and people4 ,i believe that this tradition stands on nearly as good grounds as that of ,st4 ,peter having been the first bishop of ,rome2#bj but1 as usual1 it is enriched by various later additions and embellishments1 much resembling the stories told respecting the church of ,murano4 ,thus we find it recorded by the ,santo ,padre who compiled the ,vite de' ,santi spettanti alle ,chiese di ,venezia1#ba that ,st4 ,mark having seen the people of ,aquileia well grounded in religion1 and being called to ,rome by ,st4 ,peter1 before setting off took with him the holy bishop ,hermagoras1 and went in a small boat to the marshes of ,venice4 ,there were at that period some houses built upon a certain high bank called ,rialto1 and the boat being driven by the wind was anchored in a marshy place1 when ,st4 ,mark1 snatched into ecstasy1 heard the voice of an angel saying to him3 ',peace be to thee1 ,mark2 here shall thy body rest4' ,the angel goes on to foretell the building of una stupenda1 ne pi veduta ,citt2 but the fable is hardly ingenious enough to deserve farther relation4 ,,iii4 ,but whether ,st4 ,mark was first bishop of ,aquileia or not1 ,st4 ,theodore was the first patron of the city2 nor can he yet be considered as having entirely abdicated his early right1 as his statue1 standing on a crocodile1 still companions the winged lion on the opposing pillar of the piazzetta4 ,a church erected to this ,saint is said to have occupied1 before the ninth century1 the site of ,st4 ,mark's2 and the traveller1 dazzled by the brilliancy of the great square1 ought not to leave it without endeavoring to imagine its aspect in that early time1 when it was a green field cloister-like and quiet1#bb divided by a small canal1 with a line of trees on each side2 and extending between the two churches of ,st4 ,theodore and ,st4 ,geminian1 as the little piazza of ,torcello lies between its palazzo and cathedral4 ,,iv4 ,but in the year #hac1 when the seat of government was finally removed to the ,rialto1 a ,ducal ,palace1 built on the spot where the present one stands1 with a ,ducal ,chapel beside it1#bc gave a very different character to the ,square of ,st4 ,mark2 and fifteen years later1 the acquisition of the body of the ,saint1 and its deposition in the ,ducal ,chapel1 perhaps not yet completed1 occasioned the investiture of that chapel with all possible splendor4 ,st4 ,theodore was deposed from his patronship1 and his church destroyed1 to make room for the aggrandizement of the one attached to the ,ducal ,palace1 and thenceforward known as ,st4 ,mark's4#bd ,v4 ,this first church was however destroyed by fire1 when the ,ducal ,palace was burned in the revolt against ,candiano1 in #igf4 ,it was partly rebuilt by his successor1 ,pietro ,orseolo1 on a larger scale2 and1 with the assistance of ,byzantine architects1 the fabric was carried on under successive ,doges for nearly a hundred years2 the main building being completed in #ajga1 but its incrustation with marble not till considerably later4 ,it was consecrated on the #hth of ,october1 #ajhe1be according to ,sansovino and the author of the ,chiesa ,ducale di ,s4 ,marco1 in #ajid according to ,lazari1 but certainly between #ajhd and #ajif1 those years being the limits of the reign of ,vital ,falier2 ,i incline to the supposition that it was soon after his accession to the throne in #ajhe1 though ,sansovino writes1 by mistake1 ,ordelafo instead of ,vital ,falier4 ,but1 at all events1 before the close of the eleventh century the great consecration of the church took place4 ,it was again injured by fire in #aajf1 but repaired2 and from that time to the fall of ,venice there was probably no ,doge who did not in some slight degree embellish or alter the fabric1 so that few parts of it can be pronounced boldly to be of any given date4 ,two periods of interference are1 however1 notable above the rest3 the first1 that in which the ,gothic school1 had superseded the ,byzantine towards the close of the fourteenth century1 when the pinnacles1 upper archivolts1 and window traceries were added to the exterior1 and the great screen1 with various chapels and tabernacle-work1 to the interior2 the second1 when the ,renaissance school superseded the ,gothic1 and the pupils of ,titian and ,tintoret substituted1 over one half of the church1 their own compositions for the ,greek mosaics with which it was originally decorated2#bf happily1 though with no good will1 having left enough to enable us to imagine and lament what they destroyed4 ,of this irreparable loss we shall have more to say hereafter2 meantime1 ,i wish only to fix in the reader's mind the succession of periods of alteration as firmly and simply as possible4 ,,vi4 ,we have seen that the main body of the church may be broadly stated to be of the eleventh century1 the ,gothic additions of the fourteenth1 and the restored mosaics of the seventeenth4 ,there is no difficulty in distinguishing at a glance the ,gothic portions from the ,byzantine2 but there is considerable difficulty in ascertaining how long1 during the course of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries1 additions were made to the ,byzantine church1 which cannot be easily distinguished from the work of the eleventh century1 being purposely executed in the same manner4 ,two of the most important pieces of evidence on this point are1 a mosaic in the south transept1 and another over the northern door of the faade2 the first representing the interior1 the second the exterior1 of the ancient church4 ,,vii4 ,it has just been stated that the existing building was consecrated by the ,doge ,vital ,falier4 ,a peculiar solemnity was given to that act of consecration1 in the minds of the ,venetian people1 by what appears to have been one of the best arranged and most successful impostures ever attempted by the clergy of the ,romish church4 ,the body of ,st4 ,mark had1 without doubt1 perished in the conflagration of #igf2 but the revenues of the church depended too much upon the devotion excited by these relics to permit the confession of their loss4 ,the following is the account given by ,corner1 and believed to this day by the ,venetians1 of the pretended miracle by which it was concealed4 ,after the repairs undertaken by the ,doge ,orseolo1 the place in which the body of the holy ,evangelist rested had been altogether forgotten2 so that the ,doge ,vital ,falier was entirely ignorant of the place of the venerable deposit4 ,this was no light affliction1 not only to the pious ,doge1 but to all the citizens and people2 so that at last1 moved by confidence in the ,divine mercy1 they determined to implore1 with prayer and fasting1 the manifestation of so great a treasure1 which did not now depend upon any human effort4 ,a general fast being therefore proclaimed1 and a solemn procession appointed for the #beth day of ,june1 while the people assembled in the church interceded with ,god in fervent prayers for the desired boon1 they beheld1 with as much amazement as joy1 a slight shaking in the marbles of a pillar 7near the place where the altar of the ,cross is now71 which1 presently falling to the earth1 exposed to the view of the rejoicing people the chest of bronze in which the body of the ,evangelist was laid4 ,,viii4 ,of the main facts of this tale there is no doubt4 ,they were embellished afterwards1 as usual1 by many fanciful traditions2 as1 for instance1 that1 when the sarcophagus was discovered1 ,st4 ,mark extended his hand out of it1 with a gold ring on one of the fingers1 which he permitted a noble of the ,dolfin family to remove2 and a quaint and delightful story was further invented of this ring1 which ,i shall not repeat here1 as it is now as well known as any tale of the ,arabian ,nights4 ,but the fast and the discovery of the coffin1 by whatever means effected1 are facts2 and they are recorded in one of the best-preserved mosaics of the north transept1 executed very certainly not long after the event had taken place1 closely resembling in its treatment that of the ,bayeux tapestry1 and showing1 in a conventional manner1 the interior of the church1 as it then was1 filled by the people1 first in prayer1 then in thanksgiving1 the pillar standing open before them1 and the ,doge1 in the midst of them1 distinguished by his crimson bonnet embroidered with gold1 but more unmistakably by the inscription ,dux over his head1 as uniformly is the case in the ,bayeux tapestry1 and most other pictorial works of the period4 ,the church is1 of course1 rudely represented1 and the two upper stories of it reduced to a small scale in order to form a background to the figures2 one of those bold pieces of picture history which we in our pride of perspective1 and a thousand things besides1 never dare attempt4 ,we should have put in a column or two of the real or perspective size1 and subdued it into a vague background3 the old workman crushed the church together that he might get it all in1 up to the cupolas2 and has1 therefore1 left us some useful notes of its ancient form1 though any one who is familiar with the method of drawing employed at the period will not push the evidence too far4 ,the two pulpits are there1 however1 as they are at this day1 and the fringe of mosaic flower-work which then encompassed the whole church1 but which modern restorers have destroyed1 all but one fragment still left in the south aisle4 ,there is no attempt to represent the other mosaics on the roof1 the scale being too small to admit of their being represented with any success2 but some at least of those mosaics had been executed at that period1 and their absence in the representation of the entire church is especially to be observed1 in order to show that we must not trust to any negative evidence in such works4 ,m4 ,lazari has rashly concluded that the central archivolt of ,st4 ,mark's must be posterior to the year #abje1 because it does not appear in the representation of the exterior of the church over the northern door2#bg but he justly observes that this mosaic 7which is the other piece of evidence we possess respecting the ancient form of the building7 cannot itself be earlier than #abje1 since it represents the bronze horses which were brought from ,constantinople in that year4 ,and this one fact renders it very difficult to speak with confidence respecting the date of any part of the exterior of ,st4 ,mark's2 for we have above seen that it was consecrated in the eleventh century1 and yet here is one of its most important exterior decorations assuredly retouched1 if not entirely added1 in the thirteenth1 although its style would have led us to suppose it had been an original part of the fabric4 ,however1 for all our purposes1 it will be enough for the reader to remember that the earliest parts of the building belong to the eleventh1 twelfth1 and first part of the thirteenth century2 the ,gothic portions to the fourteenth2 some of the altars and embellishments to the fifteenth and sixteenth2 and the modern portion of the mosaics to the seventeenth4 ,,ix4 ,this1 however1 ,i only wish him to recollect in order that ,i may speak generally of the ,byzantine architecture of ,st4 ,mark's1 without leading him to suppose the whole church to have been built and decorated by ,greek artists4 ,its later portions1 with the single exception of the seventeenth century mosaics1 have been so dexterously accommodated to the original fabric that the general effect is still that of a ,byzantine building2 and ,i shall not1 except when it is absolutely necessary1 direct attention to the discordant points1 or weary the reader with anatomical criticism4 ,whatever in ,st4 ,mark's arrests the eye1 or affects the feelings1 is either ,byzantine1 or has been modified by ,byzantine influence2 and our inquiry into its architectural merits need not therefore be disturbed by the anxieties of antiquarianism1 or arrested by the obscurities of chronology4 ,x4 ,and now ,i wish that the reader1 before ,i bring him into ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 would imagine himself for a little time in a quiet ,english cathedral town1 and walk with me to the west front of its cathedral4 ,let us go together up the more retired street1 at the end of which we can see the pinnacles of one of the towers1 and then through the low grey gateway1 with its battlemented top and small latticed window in the centre1 into the inner private-looking road or close1 where nothing goes in but the carts of the tradesmen who supply the bishop and the chapter1 and where there are little shaven grass-plots1 fenced in by neat rails1 before old-fashioned groups of somewhat diminutive and excessively trim houses1 with little oriel and bay windows jutting out here and there1 and deep wooden cornices and eaves painted cream color and white1 and small porches to their doors in the shape of cockle-shells1 or little1 crooked1 thick1 indescribable wooden gables warped a little on one side2 and so forward till we come to larger houses1 also old-fashioned1 but of red brick1 and with gardens behind them1 and fruit walls1 which show here and there1 among the nectarines1 the vestiges of an old cloister arch or shaft1 and looking in front on the cathedral square itself1 laid out in rigid divisions of smooth grass and gravel walk1 yet not uncheerful1 especially on the sunny side where the canons' children are walking with their nurserymaids4 ,and so1 taking care not to tread on the grass1 we will go along the straight walk to the west front1 and there stand for a time1 looking up at its deep-pointed porches and the dark places between their pillars where there were statues once1 and where the fragments1 here and there1 of a stately figure are still left1 which has in it the likeness of a king1 perhaps indeed a king on earth1 perhaps a saintly king long ago in heaven2 and so higher and higher up to the great mouldering wall of rugged sculpture and confused arcades1 shattered1 and grey1 and grisly with heads of dragons and mocking fiends1 worn by the rain and swirling winds into yet unseemlier shape1 and colored on their stony scales by the deep russet-orange lichen1 melancholy gold2 and so1 higher still1 to the bleak towers1 so far above that the eye loses itself among the bosses of their traceries1 though they are rude and strong1 and only sees like a drift of eddying black points1 now closing1 now scattering1 and now settling suddenly into invisible places among the bosses and flowers1 the crowed of restless birds that fill the whole square with that strange clangor of theirs1 so harsh and yet so soothing1 like the cries of birds on a solitary coast between the cliffs and sea4 ,,xi4 ,think for a little while of that scene1 and the meaning of all its small formalisms1 mixed with its serene sublimity4 ,estimate its secluded1 continuous1 drowsy felicities1 and its evidence of the sense and steady performance of such kind of duties as can be regulated by the cathedral clock2 and weigh the influence of those dark towers on all who have passed through the lonely square at their feet for centuries1 and on all who have seen them rising far away over the wooded plain1 or catching on their square masses the last rays of the sunset1 when the city at their feet was indicated only by the mist at the bend of the river4 ,and then let us quickly recollect that we are in ,venice1 and land at the extremity of the ,calle ,lunga ,san ,mois1 which may be considered as there answering to the secluded street that led us to our ,english cathedral gateway4 ,,xii4 ,we find ourselves in a paved alley1 some seven feet wide where it is widest1 full of people1 and resonant with cries of itinerant salesmen1--a shriek in their beginning1 and dying away into a kind of brazen ringing1 all the worse for its confinement between the high houses of the passage along which we have to make our way4 ,over-head an inextricable confusion of rugged shutters1 and iron balconies and chimney flues pushed out on brackets to save room1 and arched windows with projecting sills of ,istrian stone1 and gleams of green leaves here and there where a fig-tree branch escapes over a lower wall from some inner cortile1 leading the eye up to the narrow stream of blue sky high over all4 ,on each side1 a row of shops1 as densely set as may be1 occupying1 in fact1 intervals between the square stone shafts1 about eight feet high1 which carry the first floors3 intervals of which one is narrow and serves as a door2 the other is1 in the more respectable shops1 wainscoted to the height of the counter and glazed above1 but in those of the poorer tradesmen left open to the ground1 and the wares laid on benches and tables in the open air1 the light in all cases entering at the front only1 and fading away in a few feet from the threshold into a gloom which the eye from without cannot penetrate1 but which is generally broken by a ray or two from a feeble lamp at the back of the shop1 suspended before a print of the ,virgin4 ,the less pious shop-keeper sometimes leaves his lamp unlighted1 and is contented with a penny print2 the more religious one has his print colored and set in a little shrine with a gilded or figured fringe1 with perhaps a faded flower or two on each side1 and his lamp burning brilliantly4 ,here at the fruiterer's1 where the dark-green water-melons are heaped upon the counter like cannon balls1 the ,madonna has a tabernacle of fresh laurel leaves2 but the pewterer next door has let his lamp out1 and there is nothing to be seen in his shop but the dull gleam of the studded patterns on the copper pans1 hanging from his roof in the darkness4 ,next comes a ,vendita ,frittole e ,liquori1 where the ,virgin1 enthroned in a very humble manner beside a tallow candle on a back shelf1 presides over certain ambrosial morsels of a nature too ambiguous to be defined or enumerated4 ,but a few steps farther on1 at the regular wine-shop of the calle1 where we are offered ,vino ,nostrani a ,soldi #bhcb1 the ,madonna is in great glory1 enthroned above ten or a dozen large red casks of three-year-old vintage1 and flanked by goodly ranks of bottles of ,maraschino1 and two crimson lamps2 and for the evening1 when the gondoliers will come to drink out1 under her auspices1 the money they have gained during the day1 she will have a whole chandelier4 ,,xiii4 ,a yard or two farther1 we pass the hostelry of the ,black ,eagle1 and1 glancing as we pass through the square door of marble1 deeply moulded1 in the outer wall1 we see the shadows of its pergola of vines resting on an ancient well1 with a pointed shield carved on its side2 and so presently emerge on the bridge and ,campo ,san ,mois1 whence to the entrance into ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 called the ,bocca di ,piazza 7mouth of the square71 the ,venetian character is nearly destroyed1 first by the frightful faade of ,san ,mois1 which we will pause at another time to examine1 and then by the modernizing of the shops as they near the piazza1 and the mingling with the lower ,venetian populace of lounging groups of ,english and ,austrians4 ,we will push fast through them into the shadow of the pillars at the end of the ,bocca di ,piazza1 and then we forget them all2 for between those pillars there opens a great light1 and1 in the midst of it1 as we advance slowly1 the vast tower of ,st4 ,mark seems to lift itself visibly forth from the level field of chequered stones2 and1 on each side1 the countless arches prolong themselves into ranged symmetry1 as if the rugged and irregular houses that pressed together above us in the dark alley had been struck back into sudden obedience and lovely order1 and all their rude casements and broken walls had been transformed into arches charged with goodly sculpture1 and fluted shafts of delicate stone4 ,,xiv4 ,and well may they fall back1 for beyond those troops of ordered arches there rises a vision out of the earth1 and all the great square seems to have opened from it in a kind of awe1 that we may see it far away2--a multitude of pillars and white domes1 clustered into a long low pyramid of colored light2 a treasure-heap1 it seems1 partly of gold1 and partly of opal and mother-of-pearl1 hollowed beneath into five great vaulted porches1 ceiled with fair mosaic1 and beset with sculpture of alabaster1 clear as amber and delicate as ivory1--sculpture fantastic and involved1 of palm leaves and lilies1 and grapes and pomegranates1 and birds clinging and fluttering among the branches1 all twined together into an endless network of buds and plumes2 and1 in the midst of it1 the solemn forms of angels1 sceptred1 and robed to the feet1 and leaning to each other across the gates1 their figures indistinct among the gleaming of the golden ground through the leaves beside them1 interrupted and dim1 like the morning light as it faded back among the branches of ,eden1 when first its gates were angel-guarded long ago4 ,and round the walls of the porches there are set pillars of variegated stones1 jasper and porphyry1 and deep-green serpentine spotted with flakes of snow1 and marbles1 that half refuse and half yield to the sunshine1 ,cleopatra-like1 their bluest veins to kiss--the shadow1 as it steals back from them1 revealing line after line of azure undulation1 as a receding tide leaves the waved sand2 their capitals rich with interwoven tracery1 rooted knots of herbage1 and drifting leaves of acanthus and vine1 and mystical signs1 all beginning and ending in the ,cross2 and above them1 in the broad archivolts1 a continuous chain of language and of life--angels1 and the signs of heaven1 and the labors of men1 each in its appointed season upon the earth2 and above these1 another range of glittering pinnacles1 mixed with white arches edged with scarlet flowers1--a confusion of delight1 amidst which the breasts of the ,greek horses are seen blazing in their breadth of golden strength1 and the ,st4 ,mark's ,lion1 lifted on a blue field covered with stars1 until at last1 as if in ecstasy1 the crests of the arches break into a marble foam1 and toss themselves far into the blue sky in flashes and wreaths of sculptured spray1 as if the breakers on the ,lido shore had been frost-bound before they fell1 and the sea-nymphs had inlaid them with coral and amethyst4 ,between that grim cathedral of ,england and this1 what an interval6 ,there is a type of it in the very birds that haunt them2 for1 instead of the restless crowd1 hoarse-voiced and sable-winged1 drifting on the bleak upper air1 the ,st4 ,mark's porches are full of doves1 that nestle among the marble foliage1 and mingle the soft iridescence of their living plumes1 changing at every motion1 with the tints1 hardly less lovely1 that have stood unchanged for seven hundred years4 ,,xv4 ,and what effect has this splendor on those who pass beneath it8 ,you may walk from sunrise to sunset1 to and fro1 before the gateway of ,st4 ,mark's1 and you will not see an eye lifted to it1 nor a countenance brightened by it4 ,priest and layman1 soldier and civilian1 rich and poor1 pass by it alike regardlessly4 ,up to the very recesses of the porches1 the meanest tradesmen of the city push their counters2 nay1 the foundations of its pillars are themselves the seats--not of them that sell doves for sacrifice1 but of the vendors of toys and caricatures4 ,round the whole square in front of the church there is almost a continuous line of cafs1 where the idle ,venetians of the middle classes lounge1 and read empty journals2 in its centre the ,austrian bands play during the time of vespers1 their martial music jarring with the organ notes1--the march drowning the miserere1 and the sullen crowd thickening round them1--a crowd1 which1 if it had its will1 would stiletto every soldier that pipes to it4 ,and in the recesses of the porches1 all day long1 knots of men of the lowest classes1 unemployed and listless1 lie basking in the sun like lizards2 and unregarded children1--every heavy glance of their young eyes full of desperation and stony depravity1 and their throats hoarse with cursing1--gamble1 and fight1 and snarl1 and sleep1 hour after hour1 clashing their bruised centesimi upon the marble ledges of the church porch4 ,and the images of ,christ and ,his angels look down upon it continually4 ,that we may not enter the church out of the midst of the horror of this1 let us turn aside under the portico which looks towards the sea1 and passing round within the two massive pillars brought from ,st4 ,jean d',acre1 we shall find the gate of the ,baptistery2 let us enter there4 ,the heavy door closes behind us instantly1 and the light1 and the turbulence of the ,piazzetta1 are together shut out by it4 ,,xvi4 ,we are in a low vaulted room2 vaulted1 not with arches1 but with small cupolas starred with gold1 and chequered with gloomy figures3 in the centre is a bronze font charged with rich bas-reliefs1 a small figure of the ,baptist standing above it in a single ray of light that glances across the narrow room1 dying as it falls from a window high in the wall1 and the first thing that it strikes1 and the only thing that it strikes brightly1 is a tomb4 ,we hardly know if it be a tomb indeed2 for it is like a narrow couch set beside the window1 low-roofed and curtained1 so that it might seem1 but that it has some height above the pavement1 to have been drawn towards the window1 that the sleeper might be wakened early2--only there are two angels who have drawn the curtain back1 and are looking down upon him4 ,let us look also1 and thank that gentle light that rests upon his forehead for ever1 and dies away upon his breast4 ,the face is of a man in middle life1 but there are two deep furrows right across the forehead1 dividing it like the foundations of a tower3 the height of it above is bound by the fillet of the ducal cap4 ,the rest of the features are singularly small and delicate1 the lips sharp1 perhaps the sharpness of death being added to that of the natural lines2 but there is a sweet smile upon them1 and a deep serenity upon the whole countenance4 ,the roof of the canopy above has been blue1 filled with stars2 beneath1 in the centre of the tomb on which the figure rests1 is a seated figure of the ,virgin1 and the border of it all around is of flowers and soft leaves1 growing rich and deep1 as if in a field in summer4 ,it is the ,doge ,andrea ,dandolo1 a man early great among the great of ,venice2 and early lost4 ,she chose him for her king in his #cfth year2 he died ten years later1 leaving behind him that history to which we owe half of what we know of her former fortunes4 ,,xvii4 ,look round at the room in which he lies4 ,the floor of it is of rich mosaic1 encompassed by a low seat of red marble1 and its walls are of alabaster1 but worn and shattered1 and darkly stained with age1 almost a ruin1--in places the slabs of marble have fallen away altogether1 and the rugged brickwork is seen through the rents1 but all beautiful2 the ravaging fissures fretting their way among the islands and channelled zones of the alabaster1 and the time-stains on its translucent masses darkened into fields of rich golden brown1 like the color of seaweed when the sun strikes on it through deep sea4 ,the light fades away into the recess of the chamber towards the altar1 and the eye can hardly trace the lines of the bas-relief behind it of the baptism of ,christ3 but on the vaulting of the roof the figures are distinct1 and there are seen upon it two great circles1 one surrounded by the ,principalities and powers in heavenly places1 of which ,milton has expressed the ancient division in the single massy line1 ,thrones1 ,dominations1 ,princedoms1 ,virtues1 ,powers1 and around the other1 the ,apostles2 ,christ the centre of both2 and upon the walls1 again and again repeated1 the gaunt figure of the ,baptist1 in every circumstance of his life and death2 and the streams of the ,jordan running down between their cloven rocks2 the axe laid to the root of a fruitless tree that springs upon their shore4 ,every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit shall be hewn down1 and cast into the fire4 ,yes1 verily3 to be baptized with fire1 or to be cast therein2 it is the choice set before all men4 ,the march-notes still murmur through the grated window1 and mingle with the sounding in our ears of the sentence of judgment1 which the old ,greek has written on that ,baptistery wall4 ,venice has made her choice4 ,,xviii4 ,he who lies under that stony canopy would have taught her another choice1 in his day1 if she would have listened to him2 but he and his counsels have long been forgotten by her1 and the dust lies upon his lips4 ,through the heavy door whose bronze network closes the place of his rest1 let us enter the church itself4 ,it is lost in still deeper twilight1 to which the eye must be accustomed for some moments before the form of the building can be traced2 and then there opens before us a vast cave1 hewn out into the form of a ,cross1 and divided into shadowy aisles by many pillars4 ,round the domes of its roof the light enters only through narrow apertures like large stars2 and here and there a ray or two from some far away casement wanders into the darkness1 and casts a narrow phosphoric stream upon the waves of marble that heave and fall in a thousand colors along the floor4 ,what else there is of light is from torches1 or silver lamps1 burning ceaselessly in the recesses of the chapels2 the roof sheeted with gold1 and the polished walls covered with alabaster1 give back at every curve and angle some feeble gleaming to the flames2 and the glories round the heads of the sculptured saints flash out upon us as we pass them1 and sink again into the gloom4 ,under foot and over head1 a continual succession of crowded imagery1 one picture passing into another1 as in a dream2 forms beautiful and terrible mixed together2 dragons and serpents1 and ravening beasts of prey1 and graceful birds that in the midst of them drink from running fountains and feed from vases of crystal2 the passions and the pleasures of human life symbolized together1 and the mystery of its redemption2 for the mazes of interwoven lines and changeful pictures lead always at last to the ,cross1 lifted and carved in every place and upon every stone2 sometimes with the serpent of eternity wrapt round it1 sometimes with doves beneath its arms1 and sweet herbage growing forth from its feet2 but conspicuous most of all on the great rood that crosses the church before the altar1 raised in bright blazonry against the shadow of the apse4 ,and although in the recesses of the aisles and chapels1 when the mist of the incense hangs heavily1 we may see continually a figure traced in faint lines upon their marble1 a woman standing with her eyes raised to heaven1 and the inscription above her1 ,mother of ,god1 she is not here the presiding deity4 ,it is the ,cross that is first seen1 and always1 burning in the centre of the temple2 and every dome and hollow of its roof has the figure of ,christ in the utmost height of it1 raised in power1 or returning in judgment4 ,,xix4 ,nor is this interior without effect on the minds of the people4 ,at every hour of the day there are groups collected before the various shrines1 and solitary worshippers scattered through the darker places of the church1 evidently in prayer both deep and reverent1 and1 for the most part1 profoundly sorrowful4 ,the devotees at the greater number of the renowned shrines of ,romanism may be seen murmuring their appointed prayers with wandering eyes and unengaged gestures2 but the step of the stranger does not disturb those who kneel on the pavement of ,st4 ,mark's2 and hardly a moment passes1 from early morning to sunset1 in which we may not see some half-veiled figure enter beneath the ,arabian porch1 cast itself into long abasement on the floor of the temple1 and then rising slowly with more confirmed step1 and with a passionate kiss and clasp of the arms given to the feet of the crucifix1 by which the lamps burn always in the northern aisle1 leave the church1 as if comforted4 ,,xx4 ,but we must not hastily conclude from this that the nobler characters of the building have at present any influence in fostering a devotional spirit4 ,there is distress enough in ,venice to bring many to their knees1 without excitement from external imagery2 and whatever there may be in the temper of the worship offered in ,st4 ,mark's more than can be accounted for by reference to the unhappy circumstances of the city1 is assuredly not owing either to the beauty of its architecture or to the impressiveness of the ,scripture histories embodied in its mosaics4 ,that it has a peculiar effect1 however slight1 on the popular mind1 may perhaps be safely conjectured from the number of worshippers which it attracts1 while the churches of ,st4 ,paul and the ,frari1 larger in size and more central in position1 are left comparatively empty4#bh ,but this effect is altogether to be ascribed to its richer assemblage of those sources of influence which address themselves to the commonest instincts of the human mind1 and which1 in all ages and countries1 have been more or less employed in the support of superstition4 ,darkness and mystery2 confused recesses of building2 artificial light employed in small quantity1 but maintained with a constancy which seems to give it a kind of sacredness2 preciousness of material easily comprehended by the vulgar eye2 close air loaded with a sweet and peculiar odor associated only with religious services1 solemn music1 and tangible idols or images having popular legends attached to them1--these1 the stage properties of superstition1 which have been from the beginning of the world1 and must be to the end of it1 employed by all nations1 whether openly savage or nominally civilized1 to produce a false awe in minds incapable of apprehending the true nature of the ,deity1 are assembled in ,st4 ,mark's to a degree1 as far as ,i know1 unexampled in any other ,european church4 ,the arts of the ,magus and the ,brahmin are exhausted in the animation of a paralyzed ,christianity2 and the popular sentiment which these arts excite is to be regarded by us with no more respect than we should have considered ourselves justified in rendering to the devotion of the worshippers at ,eleusis1 ,ellora1 or ,edfou4#bi ,,xxi4 ,indeed1 these inferior means of exciting religious emotion were employed in the ancient ,church as they are at this day1 but not employed alone4 ,torchlight there was1 as there is now2 but the torchlight illumined ,scripture histories on the walls1 which every eye traced and every heart comprehended1 but which1 during my whole residence in ,venice1 ,i never saw one ,venetian regard for an instant4 ,i never heard from any one the most languid expression of interest in any feature of the church1 or perceived the slightest evidence of their understanding the meaning of its architecture2 and while1 therefore1 the ,english cathedral1 though no longer dedicated to the kind of services for which it was intended by its builders1 and much at variance in many of its characters with the temper of the people by whom it is now surrounded1 retains yet so much of its religious influence that no prominent feature of its architecture can be said to exist altogether in vain1 we have in ,st4 ,mark's a building apparently still employed in the ceremonies for which it was designed1 and yet of which the impressive attributes have altogether ceased to be comprehended by its votaries4 ,the beauty which it possesses is unfelt1 the language it uses is forgotten2 and in the midst of the city to whose service it has so long been consecrated1 and still filled by crowds of the descendants of those to whom it owes its magnificence1 it stands1 in reality1 more desolate than the ruins through which the sheep-walk passes unbroken in our ,english valleys2 and the writing on its marble walls is less regarded and less powerful for the teaching of men1 than the letters which the shepherd follows with his finger1 where the moss is lightest on the tombs in the desecrated cloister4 ,,xxii4 ,it must therefore be altogether without reference to its present usefulness1 that we pursue our inquiry into the merits and meaning of the architecture of this marvellous building2 and it can only be after we have terminated that inquiry1 conducting it carefully on abstract grounds1 that we can pronounce with any certainty how far the present neglect of ,st4 ,mark's is significative of the decline of the ,venetian character1 or how far this church is to be considered as the relic of a barbarous age1 incapable of attracting the admiration1 or influencing the feelings of a civilized community4 ,the inquiry before us is twofold4 ,throughout the first volume1 ,i carefully kept the study of expression distinct from that of abstract architectural perfection2 telling the reader that in every building we should afterwards examine1 he would have first to form a judgment of its construction and decorative merit1 considering it merely as a work of art2 and then to examine farther1 in what degree it fulfilled its expressional purposes4 ,accordingly1 we have first to judge of ,st4 ,mark's merely as a piece of architecture1 not as a church2 secondly1 to estimate its fitness for its special duty as a place of worship1 and the relation in which it stands1 as such1 to those northern cathedrals that still retain so much of the power over the human heart1 which the ,byzantine domes appear to have lost for ever4 ,,xxiii4 ,in the two succeeding sections of this work1 devoted respectively to the examination of the ,gothic and ,renaissance buildings in ,venice1 ,i have endeavored to analyze and state1 as briefly as possible1 the true nature of each school1--first in ,spirit1 then in ,form4 ,i wished to have given a similar analysis1 in this section1 of the nature of ,byzantine architecture2 but could not make my statements general1 because ,i have never seen this kind of building on its native soil4 ,nevertheless1 in the following sketch of the principles exemplified in ,st4 ,mark's1 ,i believe that most of the leading features and motives of the style will be found clearly enough distinguished to enable the reader to judge of it with tolerable fairness1 as compared with the better known systems of ,european architecture in the middle ages4 ,,xxiv4 ,now the first broad characteristic of the building1 and the root nearly of every other important peculiarity in it1 is its confessed incrustation4 ,it is the purest example in ,italy of the great school of architecture in which the ruling principle is the incrustation of brick with more precious materials2 and it is necessary before we proceed to criticise any one of its arrangements1 that the reader should carefully consider the principles which are likely to have influenced1 or might legitimately influence1 the architects of such a school1 as distinguished from those whose designs are to be executed in massive materials4 ,it is true1 that among different nations1 and at different times1 we may find examples of every sort and degree of incrustation1 from the mere setting of the larger and more compact stones by preference at the outside of the wall1 to the miserable construction of that modern brick cornice1 with its coating of cement1 which1 but the other day1 in ,london1 killed its unhappy workmen in its fall4#cj ,but just as it is perfectly possible to have a clear idea of the opposing characteristics of two different species of plants or animals1 though between the two there are varieties which it is difficult to assign either to the one or the other1 so the reader may fix decisively in his mind the legitimate characteristics of the incrusted and the massive styles1 though between the two there are varieties which confessedly unite the attributes of both4 ,for instance1 in many ,roman remains1 built of blocks of tufa and incrusted with marble1 we have a style1 which1 though truly solid1 possesses some of the attributes of incrustation2 and in the ,cathedral of ,florence1 built of brick and coated with marble1 the marble facing is so firmly and exquisitely set1 that the building1 though in reality incrusted1 assumes the attributes of solidity4 ,but these intermediate examples need not in the least confuse our generally distinct ideas of the two families of buildings3 the one in which the substance is alike throughout1 and the forms and conditions of the ornament assume or prove that it is so1 as in the best ,greek buildings1 and for the most part in our early ,norman and ,gothic2 and the other1 in which the substance is of two kinds1 one internal1 the other external1 and the system of decoration is founded on this duplicity1 as pre-eminently in ,st4 ,mark's4 ,,xxv4 ,i have used the word duplicity in no depreciatory sense4 ,in chapter ii4 of the ,seven ,lamps1 #ah1 ,i especially guarded this incrusted school from the imputation of insincerity1 and ,i must do so now at greater length4 ,it appears insincere at first to a ,northern builder1 because1 accustomed to build with solid blocks of freestone1 he is in the habit of supposing the external superficies of a piece of masonry to be some criterion of its thickness4 ,but1 as soon as he gets acquainted with the incrusted style1 he will find that the ,southern builders had no intention to deceive him4 ,he will see that every slab of facial marble is fastened to the next by a confessed rivet1 and that the joints of the armor are so visibly and openly accommodated to the contours of the substance within1 that he has no more right to complain of treachery than a savage would have1 who1 for the first time in his life seeing a man in armor1 had supposed him to be made of solid steel4 ,acquaint him with the customs of chivalry1 and with the uses of the coat of mail1 and he ceases to accuse of dishonesty either the panoply or the knight4 ,these laws and customs of the ,st4 ,mark's architectural chivalry it must be our business to develope4 ,,xxvi4 ,first1 consider the natural circumstances which give rise to such a style4 ,suppose a nation of builders1 placed far from any quarries of available stone1 and having precarious access to the mainland where they exist2 compelled therefore either to build entirely with brick1 or to import whatever stone they use from great distances1 in ships of small tonnage1 and for the most part dependent for speed on the oar rather than the sail4 ,the labor and cost of carriage are just as great1 whether they import common or precious stone1 and therefore the natural tendency would always be to make each shipload as valuable as possible4 ,but in proportion to the preciousness of the stone1 is the limitation of its possible supply2 limitation not determined merely by cost1 but by the physical conditions of the material1 for of many marbles1 pieces above a certain size are not to be had for money4 ,there would also be a tendency in such circumstances to import as much stone as possible ready sculptured1 in order to save weight2 and therefore1 if the traffic of their merchants led them to places where there were ruins of ancient edifices1 to ship the available fragments of them home4 ,out of this supply of marble1 partly composed of pieces of so precious a quality that only a few tons of them could be on any terms obtained1 and partly of shafts1 capitals1 and other portions of foreign buildings1 the island architect has to fashion1 as best he may1 the anatomy of his edifice4 ,it is at his choice either to lodge his few blocks of precious marble here and there among his masses of brick1 and to cut out of the sculptured fragments such new forms as may be necessary for the observance of fixed proportions in the new building2 or else to cut the colored stones into thin pieces1 of extent sufficient to face the whole surface of the walls1 and to adopt a method of construction irregular enough to admit the insertion of fragmentary sculptures2 rather with a view of displaying their intrinsic beauty1 than of setting them to any regular service in the support of the building4 ,an architect who cared only to display his own skill1 and had no respect for the works of others1 would assuredly have chosen the former alternative1 and would have sawn the old marbles into fragments in order to prevent all interference with his own designs4 ,but an architect who cared for the preservation of noble work1 whether his own or others'1 and more regarded the beauty of his building than his own fame1 would have done what those old builders of ,st4 ,mark's did for us1 and saved every relic with which he was entrusted4 ,,xxvii4 ,but these were not the only motives which influenced the ,venetians in the adoption of their method of architecture4 ,it might1 under all the circumstances above stated1 have been a question with other builders1 whether to import one shipload of costly jaspers1 or twenty of chalk flints2 and whether to build a small church faced with porphyry and paved with agate1 or to raise a vast cathedral in freestone4 ,but with the ,venetians it could not be a question for an instant2 they were exiles from ancient and beautiful cities1 and had been accustomed to build with their ruins1 not less in affection than in admiration3 they had thus not only grown familiar with the practice of inserting older fragments in modern buildings1 but they owed to that practice a great part of the splendor of their city1 and whatever charm of association might aid its change from a ,refuge into a ,home4 ,the practice which began in the affections of a fugitive nation1 was prolonged in the pride of a conquering one2 and beside the memorials of departed happiness1 were elevated the trophies of returning victory4 ,the ship of war brought home more marble in triumph than the merchant vessel in speculation2 and the front of ,st4 ,mark's became rather a shrine at which to dedicate the splendor of miscellaneous spoil1 than the organized expression of any fixed architectural law1 or religious emotion4 ,,xxviii4 ,thus far1 however1 the justification of the style of this church depends on circumstances peculiar to the time of its erection1 and to the spot where it arose4 ,the merit of its method1 considered in the abstract1 rests on far broader grounds4 ,in the fifth chapter of the ,seven ,lamps1 #ad1 the reader will find the opinion of a modern architect of some reputation1 ,mr4 ,wood1 that the chief thing remarkable in this church is its extreme ugliness2 and he will find this opinion associated with another1 namely1 that the works of the ,caracci are far preferable to those of the ,venetian painters4 ,this second statement of feeling reveals to us one of the principal causes of the first2 namely1 that ,mr4 ,wood had not any perception of color1 or delight in it4 ,the perception of color is a gift just as definitely granted to one person1 and denied to another1 as an ear for music2 and the very first requisite for true judgment of ,st4 ,mark's1 is the perfection of that color-faculty which few people ever set themselves seriously to find out whether they possess or not4 ,for it is on its value as a piece of perfect and unchangeable coloring1 that the claims of this edifice to our respect are finally rested2 and a deaf man might as well pretend to pronounce judgment on the merits of a full orchestra1 as an architect trained in the composition of form only1 to discern the beauty of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,it possesses the charm of color in common with the greater part of the architecture1 as well as of the manufactures1 of the ,east2 but the ,venetians deserve especial note as the only ,european people who appear to have sympathized to the full with the great instinct of the ,eastern races4 ,they indeed were compelled to bring artists from ,constantinople to design the mosaics of the vaults of ,st4 ,mark's1 and to group the colors of its porches2 but they rapidly took up and developed1 under more masculine conditions1 the system of which the ,greeks had shown them the example3 while the burghers and barons of the ,north were building their dark streets and grisly castles of oak and sandstone1 the merchants of ,venice were covering their palaces with porphyry and gold2 and at last1 when her mighty painters had created for her a color more priceless than gold or porphyry1 even this1 the richest of her treasures1 she lavished upon walls whose foundations were beaten by the sea2 and the strong tide1 as it runs beneath the ,rialto1 is reddened to this day by the reflection of the frescoes of ,giorgione4 ,,xxix4 ,if1 therefore1 the reader does not care for color1 ,i must protest against his endeavor to form any judgment whatever of this church of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,but1 if he both cares for and loves it1 let him remember that the school of incrusted architecture is the only one in which perfect and permanent chromatic decoration is possible2 and let him look upon every piece of jasper and alabaster given to the architect as a cake of very hard color1 of which a certain portion is to be ground down or cut off1 to paint the walls with4 ,once understand this thoroughly1 and accept the condition that the body and availing strength of the edifice are to be in brick1 and that this under muscular power of brickwork is to be clothed with the defence and the brightness of the marble1 as the body of an animal is protected and adorned by its scales or its skin1 and all the consequent fitnesses and laws of the structure will be easily discernible3 ,these ,i shall state in their natural order4 ,,xxx4 ,,law ,i4 ,that the plinths and cornices used for binding the armor are to be light and delicate4 ,a certain thickness1 at least two or three inches1 must be required in the covering pieces 7even when composed of the strongest stone1 and set on the least exposed parts71 in order to prevent the chance of fracture1 and to allow for the wear of time4 ,and the weight of this armor must not be trusted to cement2 the pieces must not be merely glued to the rough brick surface1 but connected with the mass which they protect by binding cornices and string courses2 and with each other1 so as to secure mutual support1 aided by the rivetings1 but by no means dependent upon them4 ,and1 for the full honesty and straight-forwardness of the work1 it is necessary that these string courses and binding plinths should not be of such proportions as would fit them for taking any important part in the hard work of the inner structure1 or render them liable to be mistaken for the great cornices and plinths already explained as essential parts of the best solid building4 ,they must be delicate1 slight1 and visibly incapable of severer work than that assigned to them4 ,,xxxi4 ,,law ,,ii4 ,science of inner structure is to be abandoned4 ,as the body of the structure is confessedly of inferior1 and comparatively incoherent materials1 it would be absurd to attempt in it any expression of the higher refinements of construction4 ,it will be enough that by its mass we are assured of its sufficiency and strength2 and there is the less reason for endeavoring to diminish the extent of its surface by delicacy of adjustment1 because on the breadth of that surface we are to depend for the better display of the color1 which is to be the chief source of our pleasure in the building4 ,the main body of the work1 therefore1 will be composed of solid walls and massive piers2 and whatever expression of finer structural science we may require1 will be thrown either into subordinate portions of it1 or entirely directed to the support of the external mail1 where in arches or vaults it might otherwise appear dangerously independent of the material within4 ,,xxxii4 ,,law ,,iii4 ,all shafts are to be solid4 ,wherever1 by the smallness of the parts1 we may be driven to abandon the incrusted structure at all1 it must be abandoned altogether4 ,the eye must never be left in the least doubt as to what is solid and what is coated4 ,whatever appears probably solid1 must be assuredly so1 and therefore it becomes an inviolable law that no shaft shall ever be incrusted4 ,not only does the whole virtue of a shaft depend on its consolidation1 but the labor of cutting and adjusting an incrusted coat to it would be greater than the saving of material is worth4 ,therefore the shaft1 of whatever size1 is always to be solid2 and because the incrusted character of the rest of the building renders it more difficult for the shafts to clear themselves from suspicion1 they must not1 in this incrusted style1 be in any place jointed4 ,no shaft must ever be used but of one block2 and this the more1 because the permission given to the builder to have his walls and piers as ponderous as he likes1 renders it quite unnecessary for him to use shafts of any fixed size4 ,in our ,norman and ,gothic1 where definite support is required at a definite point1 it becomes lawful to build up a tower of small stones in the shape of a shaft4 ,but the ,byzantine is allowed to have as much support as he wants from the walls in every direction1 and he has no right to ask for further license in the structure of his shafts4 ,let him1 by generosity in the substance of his pillars1 repay us for the permission we have given him to be superficial in his walls4 ,the builder in the chalk valleys of ,france and ,england may be blameless in kneading his clumsy pier out of broken flint and calcined lime2 but the ,venetian1 who has access to the riches of ,asia and the quarries of ,egypt1 must frame at least his shafts out of flawless stone4 ,,xxxiii4 ,and this for another reason yet4 ,although1 as we have said1 it is impossible to cover the walls of a large building with color1 except on the condition of dividing the stone into plates1 there is always a certain appearance of meanness and niggardliness in the procedure4 ,it is necessary that the builder should justify himself from this suspicion2 and prove that it is not in mere economy or poverty1 but in the real impossibility of doing otherwise1 that he has sheeted his walls so thinly with the precious film4 ,now the shaft is exactly the portion of the edifice in which it is fittest to recover his honor in this respect4 ,for if blocks of jasper or porphyry be inserted in the walls1 the spectator cannot tell their thickness1 and cannot judge of the costliness of the sacrifice4 ,but the shaft he can measure with his eye in an instant1 and estimate the quantity of treasure both in the mass of its existing substance1 and in that which has been hewn away to bring it into its perfect and symmetrical form4 ,and thus the shafts of all buildings of this kind are justly regarded as an expression of their wealth1 and a form of treasure1 just as much as the jewels or gold in the sacred vessels2 they are1 in fact1 nothing else than large jewels1#ca the block of precious serpentine or jasper being valued according to its size and brilliancy of color1 like a large emerald or ruby2 only the bulk required to bestow value on the one is to be measured in feet and tons1 and on the other in lines and carats4 ,the shafts must therefore be1 without exception1 of one block in all buildings of this kind2 for the attempt in any place to incrust or joint them would be a deception like that of introducing a false stone among jewellery 7for a number of joints of any precious stone are of course not equal in value to a single piece of equal weight71 and would put an end at once to the spectator's confidence in the expression of wealth in any portion of the structure1 or of the spirit of sacrifice in those who raised it4 ,,xxxiv4 ,,law ,,iv4 ,the shafts may sometimes be independent of the construction4 ,exactly in proportion to the importance which the shaft assumes as a large jewel1 is the diminution of its importance as a sustaining member2 for the delight which we receive in its abstract bulk1 and beauty of color1 is altogether independent of any perception of its adaptation to mechanical necessities4 ,like other beautiful things in this world1 its end is to be beautiful2 and1 in proportion to its beauty1 it receives permission to be otherwise useless4 ,we do not blame emeralds and rubies because we cannot make them into heads of hammers4 ,nay1 so far from our admiration of the jewel shaft being dependent on its doing work for us1 it is very possible that a chief part of its preciousness may consist in a delicacy1 fragility1 and tenderness of material1 which must render it utterly unfit for hard work2 and therefore that we shall admire it the more1 because we perceive that if we were to put much weight upon it1 it would be crushed4 ,but1 at all events1 it is very clear that the primal object in the placing of such shafts must be the display of their beauty to the best advantage1 and that therefore all imbedding of them in walls1 or crowding of them into groups1 in any position in which either their real size or any portion of their surface would be concealed1 is either inadmissible altogether1 or objectionable in proportion to their value2 that no symmetrical or scientific arrangements of pillars are therefore ever to be expected in buildings of this kind1 and that all such are even to be looked upon as positive errors and misapplications of materials3 but that1 on the contrary1 we must be constantly prepared to see1 and to see with admiration1 shafts of great size and importance set in places where their real service is little more than nominal1 and where the chief end of their existence is to catch the sunshine upon their polished sides1 and lead the eye into delighted wandering among the mazes of their azure veins4 ,,xxxv4 ,,law ,v4 ,the shafts may be of variable size4 ,since the value of each shaft depends upon its bulk1 and diminishes with the diminution of its mass1 in a greater ratio than the size itself diminishes1 as in the case of all other jewellery1 it is evident that we must not in general expect perfect symmetry and equality among the series of shafts1 any more than definiteness of application2 but that1 on the contrary1 an accurately observed symmetry ought to give us a kind of pain1 as proving that considerable and useless loss has been sustained by some of the shafts1 in being cut down to match with the rest4 ,it is true that symmetry is generally sought for in works of smaller jewellery2 but1 even there1 not a perfect symmetry1 and obtained under circumstances quite different from those which affect the placing of shafts in architecture4 ,first3 the symmetry is usually imperfect4 ,the stones that seem to match each other in a ring or necklace1 appear to do so only because they are so small that their differences are not easily measured by the eye2 but there is almost always such difference between them as would be strikingly apparent if it existed in the same proportion between two shafts nine or ten feet in height4 ,secondly3 the quantity of stones which pass through a jeweller's hands1 and the facility of exchange of such small objects1 enable the tradesman to select any number of stones of approximate size2 a selection1 however1 often requiring so much time1 that perfect symmetry in a group of very fine stones adds enormously to their value4 ,but the architect has neither the time nor the facilities of exchange4 ,he cannot lay aside one column in a corner of his church till1 in the course of traffic1 he obtain another that will match it2 he has not hundreds of shafts fastened up in bundles1 out of which he can match sizes at his ease2 he cannot send to a brother-tradesman and exchange the useless stones for available ones1 to the convenience of both4 ,his blocks of stone1 or his ready hewn shafts1 have been brought to him in limited number1 from immense distances2 no others are to be had2 and for those which he does not bring into use1 there is no demand elsewhere4 ,his only means of obtaining symmetry will therefore be1 in cutting down the finer masses to equality with the inferior ones2 and this we ought not to desire him often to do4 ,and therefore1 while sometimes in a ,baldacchino1 or an important chapel or shrine1 this costly symmetry may be necessary1 and admirable in proportion to its probable cost1 in the general fabric we must expect to see shafts introduced of size and proportion continually varying1 and such symmetry as may be obtained among them never altogether perfect1 and dependent for its charm frequently on strange complexities and unexpected rising and falling of weight and accent in its marble syllables2 bearing the same relation to a rigidly chiselled and proportioned architecture that the wild lyric rhythm of schylus or ,pindar bears to the finished measures of ,pope4 ,,xxxvi4 ,the application of the principles of jewellery to the smaller as well as the larger blocks1 will suggest to us another reason for the method of incrustation adopted in the walls4 ,it often happens that the beauty of the veining in some varieties of alabaster is so great1 that it becomes desirable to exhibit it by dividing the stone1 not merely to economize its substance1 but to display the changes in the disposition of its fantastic lines4 ,by reversing one of two thin plates successively taken from the stone1 and placing their corresponding edges in contact1 a perfectly symmetrical figure may be obtained1 which will enable the eye to comprehend more thoroughly the position of the veins4 ,and this is actually the method in which1 for the most part1 the alabasters of ,st4 ,mark are employed2 thus accomplishing a double good1--directing the spectator1 in the first place1 to close observation of the nature of the stone employed1 and in the second1 giving him a farther proof of the honesty of intention in the builder3 for wherever similar veining is discovered in two pieces1 the fact is declared that they have been cut from the same stone4 ,it would have been easy to disguise the similarity by using them in different parts of the building2 but on the contrary they are set edge to edge1 so that the whole system of the architecture may be discovered at a glance by any one acquainted with the nature of the stones employed4 ,nay1 but1 it is perhaps answered me1 not by an ordinary observer2 a person ignorant of the nature of alabaster might perhaps fancy all these symmetrical patterns to have been found in the stone itself1 and thus be doubly deceived1 supposing blocks to be solid and symmetrical which were in reality subdivided and irregular4 ,i grant it2 but be it remembered1 that in all things1 ignorance is liable to be deceived1 and has no right to accuse anything but itself as the source of the deception4 ,the style and the words are dishonest1 not which are liable to be misunderstood if subjected to no inquiry1 but which are deliberately calculated to lead inquiry astray4 ,there are perhaps no great or noble truths1 from those of religion downwards1 which present no mistakeable aspect to casual or ignorant contemplation4 ,both the truth and the lie agree in hiding themselves at first1 but the lie continues to hide itself with effort1 as we approach to examine it2 and leads us1 if undiscovered1 into deeper lies2 the truth reveals itself in proportion to our patience and knowledge1 discovers itself kindly to our pleading1 and leads us1 as it is discovered1 into deeper truths4 ,,xxxvii4 ,,law ,,vi4 ,the decoration must be shallow in cutting4 ,the method of construction being thus systematized1 it is evident that a certain style of decoration must arise out of it1 based on the primal condition that over the greater part of the edifice there can be no deep cutting4 ,the thin sheets of covering stones do not admit of it2 we must not cut them through to the bricks2 and whatever ornaments we engrave upon them cannot1 therefore1 be more than an inch deep at the utmost4 ,consider for an instant the enormous differences which this single condition compels between the sculptural decoration of the incrusted style1 and that of the solid stones of the ,north1 which may be hacked and hewn into whatever cavernous hollows and black recesses we choose2 struck into grim darknesses and grotesque projections1 and rugged ploughings up of sinuous furrows1 in which any form or thought may be wrought out on any scale1--mighty statues with robes of rock and crowned foreheads burning in the sun1 or venomous goblins and stealthy dragons shrunk into lurking-places of untraceable shade3 think of this1 and of the play and freedom given to the sculptor's hand and temper1 to smite out and in1 hither and thither1 as he will2 and then consider what must be the different spirit of the design which is to be wrought on the smooth surface of a film of marble1 where every line and shadow must be drawn with the most tender pencilling and cautious reserve of resource1--where even the chisel must not strike hard1 lest it break through the delicate stone1 nor the mind be permitted in any impetuosity of conception inconsistent with the fine discipline of the hand4 ,consider that whatever animal or human form is to be suggested1 must be projected on a flat surface2 that all the features of the countenance1 the folds of the drapery1 the involutions of the limbs1 must be so reduced and subdued that the whole work becomes rather a piece of fine drawing than of sculpture2 and then follow out1 until you begin to perceive their endlessness1 the resulting differences of character which will be necessitated in every part of the ornamental designs of these incrusted churches1 as compared with that of the ,northern schools4 ,i shall endeavor to trace a few of them only4 ,,xxxviii4 ,the first would of course be a diminution of the builder's dependence upon human form as a source of ornament3 since exactly in proportion to the dignity of the form itself is the loss which it must sustain in being reduced to a shallow and linear bas-relief1 as well as the difficulty of expressing it at all under such conditions4 ,wherever sculpture can be solid1 the nobler characters of the human form at once lead the artist to aim at its representation1 rather than at that of inferior organisms2 but when all is to be reduced to outline1 the forms of flowers and lower animals are always more intelligible1 and are felt to approach much more to a satisfactory rendering of the objects intended1 than the outlines of the human body4 ,this inducement to seek for resources of ornament in the lower fields of creation was powerless in the minds of the great ,pagan nations1 ,ninevite1 ,greek1 or ,egyptian3 first1 because their thoughts were so concentrated on their own capacities and fates1 that they preferred the rudest suggestion of human form to the best of an inferior organism2 secondly1 because their constant practice in solid sculpture1 often colossal1 enabled them to bring a vast amount of science into the treatment of the lines1 whether of the low relief1 the monochrome vase1 or shallow hieroglyphic4 ,,xxxix4 ,but when various ideas adverse to the representation of animal1 and especially of human1 form1 originating with the ,arabs and iconoclast ,greeks1 had begun at any rate to direct the builders' minds to seek for decorative materials in inferior types1 and when diminished practice in solid sculpture had rendered it more difficult to find artists capable of satisfactorily reducing the high organisms to their elementary outlines1 the choice of subject for surface sculpture would be more and more uninterruptedly directed to floral organisms1 and human and animal form would become diminished in size1 frequency1 and general importance4 ,so that1 while in the ,northern solid architecture we constantly find the effect of its noblest features dependent on ranges of statues1 often colossal1 and full of abstract interest1 independent of their architectural service1 in the ,southern incrusted style we must expect to find the human form for the most part subordinate and diminutive1 and involved among designs of foliage and flowers1 in the manner of which endless examples had been furnished by the fantastic ornamentation of the ,romans1 from which the incrusted style had been directly derived4 ,,xl4 ,farther4 ,in proportion to the degree in which his subject must be reduced to abstract outline will be the tendency in the sculptor to abandon naturalism of representation1 and subordinate every form to architectural service4 ,where the flower or animal can be hewn into bold relief1 there will always be a temptation to render the representation of it more complete than is necessary1 or even to introduce details and intricacies inconsistent with simplicity of distant effect4 ,very often a worse fault than this is committed2 and in the endeavor to give vitality to the stone1 the original ornamental purpose of the design is sacrificed or forgotten4 ,but when nothing of this kind can be attempted1 and a slight outline is all that the sculptor can command1 we may anticipate that this outline will be composed with exquisite grace2 and that the richness of its ornamental arrangement will atone for the feebleness of its power of portraiture4 ,on the porch of a ,northern cathedral we may seek for the images of the flowers that grow in the neighboring fields1 and as we watch with wonder the grey stones that fret themselves into thorns1 and soften into blossoms1 we may care little that these knots of ornament1 as we retire from them to contemplate the whole building1 appear unconsidered or confused4 ,on the incrusted building we must expect no such deception of the eye or thoughts4 ,it may sometimes be difficult to determine1 from the involutions of its linear sculpture1 what were the natural forms which originally suggested them3 but we may confidently expect that the grace of their arrangement will always be complete2 that there will not be a line in them which could be taken away without injury1 nor one wanting which could be added with advantage4 ,,xli4 ,farther4 ,while the sculptures of the incrusted school will thus be generally distinguished by care and purity rather than force1 and will be1 for the most part1 utterly wanting in depth of shadow1 there will be one means of obtaining darkness peculiarly simple and obvious1 and often in the sculptor's power4 ,wherever he can1 without danger1 leave a hollow behind his covering slabs1 or use them1 like glass1 to fill an aperture in the wall1 he can1 by piercing them with holes1 obtain points or spaces of intense blackness to contrast with the light tracing of the rest of his design4 ,and we may expect to find this artifice used the more extensively1 because1 while it will be an effective means of ornamentation on the exterior of the building1 it will be also the safest way of admitting light to the interior1 still totally excluding both rain and wind4 ,and it will naturally follow that the architect1 thus familiarized with the effect of black and sudden points of shadow1 will often seek to carry the same principle into other portions of his ornamentation1 and by deep drill-holes1 or perhaps inlaid portions of black color1 to refresh the eye where it may be wearied by the lightness of the general handling4 ,,xlii4 ,farther4 ,exactly in proportion to the degree in which the force of sculpture is subdued1 will be the importance attached to color as a means of effect or constituent of beauty4 ,i have above stated that the incrusted style was the only one in which perfect or permanent color decoration was possible4 ,it is also the only one in which a true system of color decoration was ever likely to be invented4 ,in order to understand this1 the reader must permit me to review with some care the nature of the principles of coloring adopted by the ,northern and ,southern nations4 ,,xliii4 ,i believe that from the beginning of the world there has never been a true or fine school of art in which color was despised4 ,it has often been imperfectly attained and injudiciously applied1 but ,i believe it to be one of the essential signs of life in a school of art1 that it loves color2 and ,i know it to be one of the first signs of death in the ,renaissance schools1 that they despised color4 ,observe1 it is not now the question whether our ,northern cathedrals are better with color or without4 ,perhaps the great monotone grey of ,nature and of ,time is a better color than any that the human hand can give2 but that is nothing to our present business4 ,the simple fact is1 that the builders of those cathedrals laid upon them the brightest colors they could obtain1 and that there is not1 as far as ,i am aware1 in ,europe1 any monument of a truly noble school which has not been either painted all over1 or vigorously touched with paint1 mosaic1 and gilding in its prominent parts4 ,thus far ,egyptians1 ,greeks1 ,goths1 ,arabs1 and medival ,christians all agree3 none of them1 when in their right senses1 ever think of doing without paint2 and1 therefore1 when ,i said above that the ,venetians were the only people who had thoroughly sympathized with the ,arabs in this respect1 ,i referred1 first1 to their intense love of color1 which led them to lavish the most expensive decorations on ordinary dwelling-houses2 and1 secondly1 to that perfection of the color-instinct in them1 which enabled them to render whatever they did1 in this kind1 as just in principle as it was gorgeous in appliance4 ,it is this principle of theirs1 as distinguished from that of the ,northern builders1 which we have finally to examine4 ,,xliv4 ,in the second chapter of the first volume1 it was noticed that the architect of ,bourges ,cathedral liked hawthorn1 and that the porch of his cathedral was therefore decorated with a rich wreath of it2 but another of the predilections of that architect was there unnoticed1 namely1 that he did not at all like grey hawthorn1 but preferred it green1 and he painted it green accordingly1 as bright as he could4 ,the color is still left in every sheltered interstice of the foliage4 ,he had1 in fact1 hardly the choice of any other color2 he might have gilded the thorns1 by way of allegorizing human life1 but if they were to be painted at all1 they could hardly be painted any tiling but green1 and green all over4 ,people would have been apt to object to any pursuit of abstract harmonies of color1 which might have induced him to paint his hawthorn blue4 ,,xlv4 ,in the same way1 whenever the subject of the sculpture was definite1 its color was of necessity definite also2 and1 in the hands of the ,northern builders1 it often became1 in consequence1 rather the means of explaining and animating the stories of their stone-work1 than a matter of abstract decorative science4 ,flowers were painted red1 trees green1 and faces flesh-color2 the result of the whole being often far more entertaining than beautiful4 ,and also1 though in the lines of the mouldings and the decorations of shafts or vaults1 a richer and more abstract method of coloring was adopted 7aided by the rapid development of the best principles of color in early glass-painting71 the vigorous depths of shadow in the ,northern sculpture confused the architect's eye1 compelling him to use violent colors in the recesses1 if these were to be seen as color at all1 and thus injured his perception of more delicate color harmonies2 so that in innumerable instances it becomes very disputable whether monuments even of the best times were improved by the color bestowed upon them1 or the contrary4 ,but1 in the ,south1 the flatness and comparatively vague forms of the sculpture1 while they appeared to call for color in order to enhance their interest1 presented exactly the conditions which would set it off to the greatest advantage2 breadth of surface displaying even the most delicate tints in the lights1 and faintness of shadow joining with the most delicate and pearly greys of color harmony2 while the subject of the design being in nearly all cases reduced to mere intricacy of ornamental line1 might be colored in any way the architect chose without any loss of rationality4 ,where oak-leaves and roses were carved into fresh relief and perfect bloom1 it was necessary to paint the one green and the other red2 but in portions of ornamentation where there was nothing which could be definitely construed into either an oak-leaf or a rose1 but a mere labyrinth of beautiful lines1 becoming here something like a leaf1 and there something like a flower1 the whole tracery of the sculpture might be left white1 and grounded with gold or blue1 or treated in any other manner best harmonizing with the colors around it4 ,and as the necessarily feeble character of the sculpture called for and was ready to display the best arrangements of color1 so the precious marbles in the architect's hands give him at once the best examples and the best means of color4 ,the best examples1 for the tints of all natural stones are as exquisite in quality as endless in change2 and the best means1 for they are all permanent4 ,,xlvi4 ,every motive thus concurred in urging him to the study of chromatic decoration1 and every advantage was given him in the pursuit of it2 and this at the very moment when1 as presently to be noticed1 the navet of barbaric ,christianity could only be forcibly appealed to by the help of colored pictures3 so that1 both externally and internally1 the architectural construction became partly merged in pictorial effect2 and the whole edifice is to be regarded less as a temple wherein to pray1 than as itself a ,book of ,common ,prayer1 a vast illuminated missal1 bound with alabaster instead of parchment1 studded with porphyry pillars instead of jewels1 and written within and without in letters of enamel and gold4 ,,xlvii4 ,,law ,,vii4 ,that the impression of the architecture is not to be dependent on size4 ,and now there is but one final consequence to be deduced4 ,the reader understands1 ,i trust1 by this time1 that the claims of these several parts of the building upon his attention will depend upon their delicacy of design1 their perfection of color1 their preciousness of material1 and their legendary interest4 ,all these qualities are independent of size1 and partly even inconsistent with it4 ,neither delicacy of surface sculpture1 nor subtle gradations of color1 can be appreciated by the eye at a distance2 and since we have seen that our sculpture is generally to be only an inch or two in depth1 and that our coloring is in great part to be produced with the soft tints and veins of natural stones1 it will follow necessarily that none of the parts of the building can be removed far from the eye1 and therefore that the whole mass of it cannot be large4 ,it is not even desirable that it should be so2 for the temper in which the mind addresses itself to contemplate minute and beautiful details is altogether different from that in which it submits itself to vague impressions of space and size4 ,and therefore we must not be disappointed1 but grateful1 when we find all the best work of the building concentrated within a space comparatively small2 and that1 for the great cliff-like buttresses and mighty piers of the ,north1 shooting up into indiscernible height1 we have here low walls spread before us like the pages of a book1 and shafts whose capitals we may touch with our hand4 ,,xlviii4 ,the due consideration of the principles above stated will enable the traveller to judge with more candor and justice of the architecture of ,st4 ,mark's than usually it would have been possible for him to do while under the influence of the prejudices necessitated by familiarity with the very different schools of ,northern art4 ,i wish it were in my power to lay also before the general reader some exemplification of the manner in which these strange principles are developed in the lovely building4 ,but exactly in proportion to the nobility of any work1 is the difficulty of conveying a just impression of it2 and wherever ,i have occasion to bestow high praise1 there it is exactly most dangerous for me to endeavor to illustrate my meaning1 except by reference to the work itself4 ,and1 in fact1 the principal reason why architectural criticism is at this day so far behind all other1 is the impossibility of illustrating the best architecture faithfully4 ,of the various schools of painting1 examples are accessible to every one1 and reference to the works themselves is found sufficient for all purposes of criticism2 but there is nothing like ,st4 ,mark's or the ,ducal ,palace to be referred to in the ,national ,gallery1 and no faithful illustration of them is possible on the scale of such a volume as this4 ,and it is exceedingly difficult on any scale4 ,nothing is so rare in art1 as far as my own experience goes1 as a fair illustration of architecture2 perfect illustration of it does not exist4 ,for all good architecture depends upon the adaptation of its chiselling to the effect at a certain distance from the eye2 and to render the peculiar confusion in the midst of order1 and uncertainty in the midst of decision1 and mystery in the midst of trenchant lines1 which are the result of distance1 together with perfect expression of the peculiarities of the design1 requires the skill of the most admirable artist1 devoted to the work with the most severe conscientiousness1 neither the skill nor the determination having as yet been given to the subject4 ,and in the illustration of details1 every building of any pretensions to high architectural rank would require a volume of plates1 and those finished with extraordinary care4 ,with respect to the two buildings which are the principal subjects of the present volume1 ,st4 ,mark's and the ,ducal ,palace1 ,i have found it quite impossible to do them the slightest justice by any kind of portraiture2 and ,i abandoned the endeavor in the case of the latter with less regret1 because in the new ,crystal ,palace 7as the poetical public insist upon calling it1 though it is neither a palace1 nor of crystal7 there will be placed1 ,i believe1 a noble cast of one of its angles4 ,as for ,st4 ,mark's1 the effort was hopeless from the beginning4 ,for its effect depends not only upon the most delicate sculpture in every part1 but1 as we have just stated1 eminently on its color also1 and that the most subtle1 variable1 inexpressible color in the world1--the color of glass1 of transparent alabaster1 of polished marble1 and lustrous gold4 ,it would be easier to illustrate a crest of ,scottish mountain1 with its purple heather and pale harebells at their fullest and fairest1 or a glade of ,jura forest1 with its floor of anemone and moss1 than a single portico of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,the fragment of one of its archivolts1 given at the bottom of the opposite ,plate1 is not to illustrate the thing itself1 but to illustrate the impossibility of illustration4 ,,xlix4 ,it is left a fragment1 in order to get it on a larger scale2 and yet even on this scale it is too small to show the sharp folds and points of the marble vine-leaves with sufficient clearness4 ,the ground of it is gold1 the sculpture in the spandrils is not more than an inch and a half deep1 rarely so much4 ,it is in fact nothing more than an exquisite sketching of outlines in marble1 to about the same depth as in the ,elgin frieze2 the draperies1 however1 being filled with close folds1 in the manner of the ,byzantine pictures1 folds especially necessary here1 as large masses could not be expressed in the shallow sculpture without becoming insipid2 but the disposition of these folds is always most beautiful1 and often opposed by broad and simple spaces1 like that obtained by the scroll in the hand of the prophet1 seen in the plate4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,vi4 ,,the ,,vine ,,tree1 ,,and ,,in ,,service4 ,the balls in the archivolt project considerably1 and the interstices between their interwoven bands of marble are filled with colors like the illuminations of a manuscript2 violet1 crimson1 blue1 gold1 and green alternately3 but no green is ever used without an intermixture of blue pieces in the mosaic1 nor any blue without a little centre of pale green2 sometimes only a single piece of glass a quarter of an inch square1 so subtle was the feeling for color which was thus to be satisfied4#cb ,the intermediate circles have golden stars set on an azure ground1 varied in the same manner2 and the small crosses seen in the intervals are alternately blue and subdued scarlet1 with two small circles of white set in the golden ground above and beneath them1 each only about half an inch across 7this work1 remember1 being on the outside of the building1 and twenty feet above the eye71 while the blue crosses have each a pale green centre4 ,of all this exquisitely mingled hue1 no plate1 however large or expensive1 could give any adequate conception2 but1 if the reader will supply in imagination to the engraving what he supplies to a common woodcut of a group of flowers1 the decision of the respective merits of modern and of ,byzantine architecture may be allowed to rest on this fragment of ,st4 ,mark's alone4 ,from the vine-leaves of that archivolt1 though there is no direct imitation of nature in them1 but on the contrary a studious subjection to architectural purpose more particularly to be noticed hereafter1 we may yet receive the same kind of pleasure which we have in seeing true vine-leaves and wreathed branches traced upon golden light2 its stars upon their azure ground ought to make us remember1 as its builder remembered1 the stars that ascend and fall in the great arch of the sky3 and ,i believe that stars1 and boughs1 and leaves1 and bright colors are everlastingly lovely1 and to be by all men beloved2 and1 moreover1 that church walls grimly seared with squared lines1 are not better nor nobler things than these4 ,i believe the man who designed and the men who delighted in that archivolt to have been wise1 happy1 and holy4 ,let the reader look back to the archivolt ,i have already given out of the streets of ,london 7,plate ,,xiii4 ,vol4 ,i471 and see what there is in it to make us any of the three4 ,let him remember that the men who design such work as that call ,st4 ,mark's a barbaric monstrosity1 and let him judge between us4 ,l4 ,some farther details of the ,st4 ,mark's architecture1 and especially a general account of ,byzantine capitals1 and of the principal ones at the angles of the church1 will be found in the following chapter4#cc ,here ,i must pass on to the second part of our immediate subject1 namely1 the inquiry how far the exquisite and varied ornament of ,st4 ,mark's fits it1 as a ,temple1 for its sacred purpose1 and would be applicable in the churches of modern times4 ,we have here evidently two questions3 the first1 that wide and continually agitated one1 whether richness of ornament be right in churches at all2 the second1 whether the ornament of ,st4 ,mark's be of a truly ecclesiastical and ,christian character4 ,,li4 ,in the first chapter of the ,seven ,lamps of ,architecture ,i endeavored to lay before the reader some reasons why churches ought to be richly adorned1 as being the only places in which the desire of offering a portion of all precious things to ,god could be legitimately expressed4 ,but ,i left wholly untouched the question3 whether the church1 as such1 stood in need of adornment1 or would be better fitted for its purposes by possessing it4 ,this question ,i would now ask the reader to deal with briefly and candidly4 ,the chief difficulty in deciding it has arisen from its being always presented to us in an unfair form4 ,it is asked of us1 or we ask of ourselves1 whether the sensation which we now feel in passing from our own modern dwelling-house1 through a newly built street1 into a cathedral of the thirteenth century1 be safe or desirable as a preparation for public worship4 ,but we never ask whether that sensation was at all calculated upon by the builders of the cathedral4 ,,lii4 ,now ,i do not say that the contrast of the ancient with the modern building1 and the strangeness with which the earlier architectural forms fall upon the eye1 are at this day disadvantageous4 ,but ,i do say1 that their effect1 whatever it may be1 was entirely uncalculated upon by the old builder4 ,he endeavored to make his work beautiful1 but never expected it to be strange4 ,and we incapacitate ourselves altogether from fair judgment of its intention1 if we forget that1 when it was built1 it rose in the midst of other work fanciful and beautiful as itself2 that every dwelling-house in the middle ages was rich with the same ornaments and quaint with the same grotesques which fretted the porches or animated the gargoyles of the cathedral2 that what we now regard with doubt and wonder1 as well as with delight1 was then the natural continuation1 into the principal edifice of the city1 of a style which was familiar to every eye throughout all its lanes and streets2 and that the architect had often no more idea of producing a peculiarly devotional impression by the richest color and the most elaborate carving1 than the builder of a modern meeting-house has by his whitewashed walls and square-cut casements4#cd ,,liii4 ,let the reader fix this great fact well in his mind1 and then follow out its important corollaries4 ,we attach1 in modern days1 a kind of sacredness to the pointed arch and the groined roof1 because1 while we look habitually out of square windows and live under flat ceilings1 we meet with the more beautiful forms in the ruins of our abbeys4 ,but when those abbeys were built1 the pointed arch was used for every shop door1 as well as for that of the cloister1 and the feudal baron and freebooter feasted1 as the monk sang1 under vaulted roofs2 not because the vaulting was thought especially appropriate to either the revel or psalm1 but because it was then the form in which a strong roof was easiest built4 ,we have destroyed the goodly architecture of our cities2 we have substituted one wholly devoid of beauty or meaning2 and then we reason respecting the strange effect upon our minds of the fragments which1 fortunately1 we have left in our churches1 as if those churches had always been designed to stand out in strong relief from all the buildings around them1 and ,gothic architecture had always been1 what it is now1 a religious language1 like ,monkish ,latin4 ,most readers know1 if they would arouse their knowledge1 that this was not so2 but they take no pains to reason the matter out3 they abandon themselves drowsily to the impression that ,gothic is a peculiarly ecclesiastical style2 and sometimes1 even1 that richness in church ornament is a condition or furtherance of the ,romish religion4 ,undoubtedly it has become so in modern times3 for there being no beauty in our recent architecture1 and much in the remains of the past1 and these remains being almost exclusively ecclesiastical1 the ,high ,church and ,romanist parties have not been slow in availing themselves of the natural instincts which were deprived of all food except from this source2 and have willingly promulgated the theory1 that because all the good architecture that is now left is expressive of ,high ,church or ,romanist doctrines1 all good architecture ever has been and must be so1--a piece of absurdity from which1 though here and there a country clergyman may innocently believe it1 ,i hope the common sense of the nation will soon manfully quit itself4 ,it needs but little inquiry into the spirit of the past1 to ascertain what1 once for all1 ,i would desire here clearly and forcibly to assert1 that wherever ,christian church architecture has been good and lovely1 it has been merely the perfect development of the common dwelling-house architecture of the period2 that when the pointed arch was used in the street1 it was used in the church2 when the round arch was used in the street1 it was used in the church2 when the pinnacle was set over the garret window1 it was set over the belfry tower2 when the flat roof was used for the drawing-room1 it was used for the nave4 ,there is no sacredness in round arches1 nor in pointed2 none in pinnacles1 nor in buttresses2 none in pillars1 nor in traceries4 ,churches were larger than most other buildings1 because they had to hold more people2 they were more adorned than most other buildings1 because they were safer from violence1 and were the fitting subjects of devotional offering3 but they were never built in any separate1 mystical1 and religious style2 they were built in the manner that was common and familiar to everybody at the time4 ,the flamboyant traceries that adorn the faade of ,rouen ,cathedral had once their fellows in every window of every house in the market-place2 the sculptures that adorn the porches of ,st4 ,mark's had once their match on the walls of every palace on the ,grand ,canal2 and the only difference between the church and the dwelling-house was1 that there existed a symbolical meaning in the distribution of the parts of all buildings meant for worship1 and that the painting or sculpture was1 in the one case1 less frequently of profane subject than in the other4 ,a more severe distinction cannot be drawn3 for secular history was constantly introduced into church architecture2 and sacred history or allusion generally formed at least one half of the ornament of the dwelling-house4 ,,liv4 ,this fact is so important1 and so little considered1 that ,i must be pardoned for dwelling upon it at some length1 and accurately marking the limits of the assertion ,i have made4 ,i do not mean that every dwelling-house of medival cities was as richly adorned and as exquisite in composition as the fronts of their cathedrals1 but that they presented features of the same kind1 often in parts quite as beautiful2 and that the churches were not separated by any change of style from the buildings round them1 as they are now1 but were merely more finished and full examples of a universal style1 rising out of the confused streets of the city as an oak tree does out of an oak copse1 not differing in leafage1 but in size and symmetry4 ,of course the quainter and smaller forms of turret and window necessary for domestic service1 the inferior materials1 often wood instead of stone1 and the fancy of the inhabitants1 which had free play in the design1 introduced oddnesses1 vulgarities1 and variations into house architecture1 which were prevented by the traditions1 the wealth1 and the skill of the monks and freemasons2 while1 on the other hand1 conditions of vaulting1 buttressing1 and arch and tower building1 were necessitated by the mere size of the cathedral1 of which it would be difficult to find examples elsewhere4 ,but there was nothing more in these features than the adaptation of mechanical skill to vaster requirements2 there was nothing intended to be1 or felt to be1 especially ecclesiastical in any of the forms so developed2 and the inhabitants of every village and city1 when they furnished funds for the decoration of their church1 desired merely to adorn the house of ,god as they adorned their own1 only a little more richly1 and with a somewhat graver temper in the subjects of the carving4 ,even this last difference is not always clearly discernible3 all manner of ribaldry occurs in the details of the ecclesiastical buildings of the ,north1 and at the time when the best of them were built1 every man's house was a kind of temple2 a figure of the ,madonna1 or of ,christ1 almost always occupied a niche over the principal door1 and the ,old ,testament histories were curiously interpolated amidst the grotesques of the brackets and the gables4 ,,lv4 ,and the reader will now perceive that the question respecting fitness of church decoration rests in reality on totally different grounds from those commonly made foundations of argument4 ,so long as our streets are walled with barren brick1 and our eyes rest continually1 in our daily life1 on objects utterly ugly1 or of inconsistent and meaningless design1 it may be a doubtful question whether the faculties of eye and mind which are capable of perceiving beauty1 having been left without food during the whole of our active life1 should be suddenly feasted upon entering a place of worship2 and color1 and music1 and sculpture should delight the senses1 and stir the curiosity of men unaccustomed to such appeal1 at the moment when they are required to compose themselves for acts of devotion2--this1 ,i say1 may be a doubtful question3 but it cannot be a question at all1 that if once familiarized with beautiful form and color1 and accustomed to see in whatever human hands have executed for us1 even for the lowest services1 evidence of noble thought and admirable skill1 we shall desire to see this evidence also in whatever is built or labored for the house of prayer2 that the absence of the accustomed loveliness would disturb instead of assisting devotion2 and that we should feel it as vain to ask whether1 with our own house full of goodly craftsmanship1 we should worship ,god in a house destitute of it1 as to ask whether a pilgrim whose day's journey had led him through fair woods and by sweet waters1 must at evening turn aside into some barren place to pray4 ,,lvi4 ,then the second question submitted to us1 whether the ornament of ,st4 ,mark's be truly ecclesiastical and ,christian1 is evidently determined together with the first2 for1 if not only the permission of ornament at all1 but the beautiful execution of it1 be dependent on our being familiar with it in daily life1 it will follow that no style of noble architecture can be exclusively ecclesiastical4 ,it must be practised in the dwelling before it be perfected in the church1 and it is the test of a noble style that it shall be applicable to both2 for if essentially false and ignoble1 it may be made to fit the dwelling-house1 but never can be made to fit the church3 and just as there are many principles which will bear the light of the world's opinion1 yet will not bear the light of ,god's word1 while all principles which will bear the test of ,scripture will also bear that of practice1 so in architecture there are many forms which expediency and convenience may apparently justify1 or at least render endurable1 in daily use1 which will yet be found offensive the moment they are used for church service2 but there are none good for church service1 which cannot bear daily use4 ,thus the ,renaissance manner of building is a convenient style for dwelling-houses1 but the natural sense of all religious men causes them to turn from it with pain when it has been used in churches2 and this has given rise to the popular idea that the ,roman style is good for houses and the ,gothic for churches4 ,this is not so2 the ,roman style is essentially base1 and we can bear with it only so long as it gives us convenient windows and spacious rooms2 the moment the question of convenience is set aside1 and the expression or beauty of the style is tried by its being used in a church1 we find it fail4 ,but because the ,gothic and ,byzantine styles are fit for churches they are not therefore less fit for dwellings4 ,they are in the highest sense fit and good for both1 nor were they ever brought to perfection except where they were used for both4 ,,lvii4 ,but there is one character of ,byzantine work which1 according to the time at which it was employed1 may be considered as either fitting or unfitting it for distinctly ecclesiastical purposes2 ,i mean the essentially pictorial character of its decoration4 ,we have already seen what large surfaces it leaves void of bold architectural features1 to be rendered interesting merely by surface ornament or sculpture4 ,in this respect ,byzantine work differs essentially from pure ,gothic styles1 which are capable of filling every vacant space by features purely architectural1 and may be rendered1 if we please1 altogether independent of pictorial aid4 ,a ,gothic church may be rendered impressive by mere successions of arches1 accumulations of niches1 and entanglements of tracery4 ,but a ,byzantine church requires expression and interesting decoration over vast plane surfaces1--decoration which becomes noble only by becoming pictorial2 that is to say1 by representing natural objects1--men1 animals1 or flowers4 ,and1 therefore1 the question whether the ,byzantine style be fit for church service in modern days1 becomes involved in the inquiry1 what effect upon religion has been or may yet be produced by pictorial art1 and especially by the art of the mosaicist8 ,,lviii4 ,the more ,i have examined the subject the more dangerous ,i have found it to dogmatize respecting the character of the art which is likely1 at a given period1 to be most useful to the cause of religion4 ,one great fact first meets me4 ,i cannot answer for the experience of others1 but ,i never yet met with a ,christian whose heart was thoroughly set upon the world to come1 and1 so far as human judgment could pronounce1 perfect and right before ,god1 who cared about art at all4 ,i have known several very noble ,christian men who loved it intensely1 but in them there was always traceable some entanglement of the thoughts with the matters of this world1 causing them to fall into strange distresses and doubts1 and often leading them into what they themselves would confess to be errors in understanding1 or even failures in duty4 ,i do not say that these men may not1 many of them1 be in very deed nobler than those whose conduct is more consistent2 they may be more tender in the tone of all their feelings1 and farther-sighted in soul1 and for that very reason exposed to greater trials and fears1 than those whose hardier frame and naturally narrower vision enable them with less effort to give their hands to ,god and walk with ,him4 ,but still1 the general fact is indeed so1 that ,i have never known a man who seemed altogether right and calm in faith1 who seriously cared about art2 and when casually moved by it1 it is quite impossible to say beforehand by what class of art this impression will on such men be made4 ,very often it is by a theatrical commonplace1 more frequently still by false sentiment4 ,i believe that the four painters who have had1 and still have1 the most influence1 such as it is1 on the ordinary ,protestant ,christian mind1 are ,carlo ,dolci1 ,guercino1 ,benjamin ,west1 and ,john ,martin4 ,raphael1 much as he is talked about1 is1 ,i believe in very fact1 rarely looked at by religious people2 much less his master1 or any of the truly great religious men of old4 ,but a smooth ,magdalen of ,carlo ,dolci with a tear on each cheek1 or a ,guercino ,christ or ,st4 ,john1 or a ,scripture illustration of ,west's1 or a black cloud with a flash of lightning in it of ,martin's1 rarely fails of being verily1 often deeply1 felt for the time4 ,,lix4 ,there are indeed many very evident reasons for this2 the chief one being that1 as all truly great religious painters have been hearty ,romanists1 there are none of their works which do not embody1 in some portions of them1 definitely ,romanist doctrines4 ,the ,protestant mind is instantly struck by these1 and offended by them1 so as to be incapable of entering1 or at least rendered indisposed to enter1 farther into the heart of the work1 or to the discovering those deeper characters of it1 which are not ,romanist1 but ,christian1 in the everlasting sense and power of ,christianity4 ,thus most ,protestants1 entering for the first time a ,paradise of ,angelico1 would be irrevocably offended by finding that the first person the painter wished them to speak to was ,st4 ,dominic2 and would retire from such a heaven as speedily as possible1--not giving themselves time to discover1 that whether dressed in black1 or white1 or grey1 and by whatever name in the calendar they might be called1 the figures that filled that ,angelico heaven were indeed more saintly1 and pure1 and full of love in every feature1 than any that the human hand ever traced before or since4 ,and thus ,protestantism1 having foolishly sought for the little help it requires at the hand of painting from the men who embodied no ,catholic doctrine1 has been reduced to receive it from those who believed neither ,catholicism nor ,protestantism1 but who read the ,bible in search of the picturesque4 ,we thus refuse to regard the painters who passed their lives in prayer1 but are perfectly ready to be taught by those who spent them in debauchery4 ,there is perhaps no more popular ,protestant picture than ,salvator's ,witch of ,endor1 of which the subject was chosen by the painter simply because1 under the names of ,saul and the ,sorceress1 he could paint a captain of banditti1 and a ,neapolitan hag4 ,,lx4 ,the fact seems to be that strength of religious feeling is capable of supplying for itself whatever is wanting in the rudest suggestions of art1 and will either1 on the one hand1 purify what is coarse into inoffensiveness1 or1 on the other1 raise what is feeble into impressiveness4 ,probably all art1 as such1 is unsatisfactory to it2 and the effort which it makes to supply the void will be induced rather by association and accident than by the real merit of the work submitted to it4 ,the likeness to a beloved friend1 the correspondence with a habitual conception1 the freedom from any strange or offensive particularity1 and1 above all1 an interesting choice of incident1 will win admiration for a picture when the noblest efforts of religious imagination would otherwise fail of power4 ,how much more1 when to the quick capacity of emotion is joined a childish trust that the picture does indeed represent a fact6 it matters little whether the fact be well or ill told2 the moment we believe the picture to be true1 we complain little of its being ill-painted4 ,let it be considered for a moment1 whether the child1 with its colored print1 inquiring eagerly and gravely which is ,joseph1 and which is ,benjamin1 is not more capable of receiving a strong1 even a sublime1 impression from the rude symbol which it invests with reality by its own effort1 than the connoisseur who admires the grouping of the three figures in ,raphael's ,telling of the ,dreams2 and whether also1 when the human mind is in right religious tone1 it has not always this childish power--,i speak advisedly1 this power--a noble one1 and possessed more in youth than at any period of after life1 but always1 ,i think1 restored in a measure by religion--of raising into sublimity and reality the rudest symbol which is given to it of accredited truth4 ,,lxi4 ,ever since the period of the ,renaissance1 however1 the truth has not been accredited2 the painter of religious subject is no longer regarded as the narrator of a fact1 but as the inventor of an idea4#ce ,we do not severely criticise the manner in which a true history is told1 but we become harsh investigators of the faults of an invention2 so that in the modern religious mind1 the capacity of emotion1 which renders judgment uncertain1 is joined with an incredulity which renders it severe2 and this ignorant emotion1 joined with ignorant observance of faults1 is the worst possible temper in which any art can be regarded1 but more especially sacred art4 ,for as religious faith renders emotion facile1 so also it generally renders expression simple2 that is to say a truly religious painter will very often be ruder1 quainter1 simpler1 and more faulty in his manner of working1 than a great irreligious one4 ,and it was in this artless utterance1 and simple acceptance1 on the part of both the workman and the beholder1 that all noble schools of art have been cradled2 it is in them that they must be cradled to the end of time4 ,it is impossible to calculate the enormous loss of power in modern days1 owing to the imperative requirement that art shall be methodical and learned3 for as long as the constitution of this world remains unaltered1 there will be more intellect in it than there can be education2 there will be many men capable of just sensation and vivid invention1 who never will have time to cultivate or polish their natural powers4 ,and all unpolished power is in the present state of society lost2 in other things as well as in the arts1 but in the arts especially3 nay1 in nine cases out of ten1 people mistake the polish for the power4 ,until a man has passed through a course of academy studentship1 and can draw in an approved manner with ,french chalk1 and knows foreshortening1 and perspective1 and something of anatomy1 we do not think he can possibly be an artist2 what is worse1 we are very apt to think that we can make him an artist by teaching him anatomy1 and how to draw with ,french chalk2 whereas the real gift in him is utterly independent of all such accomplishments3 and ,i believe there are many peasants on every estate1 and laborers in every town1 of ,europe1 who have imaginative powers of a high order1 which nevertheless cannot be used for our good1 because we do not choose to look at anything but what is expressed in a legal and scientific way4 ,i believe there is many a village mason who1 set to carve a series of ,scripture or any other histories1 would find many a strange and noble fancy in his head1 and set it down1 roughly enough indeed1 but in a way well worth our having4 ,but we are too grand to let him do this1 or to set up his clumsy work when it is done2 and accordingly the poor stone-mason is kept hewing stones smooth at the corners1 and we build our church of the smooth square stones1 and consider ourselves wise4 ,,lxii4 ,i shall pursue this subject farther in another place2 but ,i allude to it here in order to meet the objections of those persons who suppose the mosaics of ,st4 ,mark's1 and others of the period1 to be utterly barbarous as representations of religious history4 ,let it be granted that they are so2 we are not for that reason to suppose they were ineffective in religious teaching4 ,i have above spoken of the whole church as a great ,book of ,common ,prayer2 the mosaics were its illuminations1 and the common people of the time were taught their ,scripture history by means of them1 more impressively perhaps1 though far less fully1 than ours are now by ,scripture reading4 ,they had no other ,bible1 and--,protestants do not often enough consider this--could have no other4 ,we find it somewhat difficult to furnish our poor with printed ,bibles2 consider what the difficulty must have been when they could be given only in manuscript4 ,the walls of the church necessarily became the poor man's ,bible1 and a picture was more easily read upon the walls than a chapter4 ,under this view1 and considering them merely as the ,bible pictures of a great nation in its youth1 ,i shall finally invite the reader to examine the connexion and subjects of these mosaics2 but in the meantime ,i have to deprecate the idea of their execution being in any sense barbarous4 ,i have conceded too much to modern prejudice1 in permitting them to be rated as mere childish efforts at colored portraiture3 they have characters in them of a very noble kind2 nor are they by any means devoid of the remains of the science of the later ,roman empire4 ,the character of the features is almost always fine1 the expression stern and quiet1 and very solemn1 the attitudes and draperies always majestic in the single figures1 and in those of the groups which are not in violent action2#cf while the bright coloring and disregard of chiaroscuro cannot be regarded as imperfections1 since they are the only means by which the figures could be rendered clearly intelligible in the distance and darkness of the vaulting4 ,so far am ,i from considering them barbarous1 that ,i believe of all works of religious art whatsoever1 these1 and such as these1 have been the most effective4 ,they stand exactly midway between the debased manufacture of wooden and waxen images which is the support of ,romanist idolatry all over the world1 and the great art which leads the mind away from the religious subject to the art itself4 ,respecting neither of these branches of human skill is there1 nor can there be1 any question4 ,the manufacture of puppets1 however influential on the ,romanist mind of ,europe1 is certainly not deserving of consideration as one of the fine arts4 ,it matters literally nothing to a ,romanist what the image he worships is like4 ,take the vilest doll that is screwed together in a cheap toy-shop1 trust it to the keeping of a large family of children1 let it be beaten about the house by them till it is reduced to a shapeless block1 then dress it in a satin frock and declare it to have fallen from heaven1 and it will satisfactorily answer all ,romanist purposes4 ,idolatry1#cg it cannot be too often repeated1 is no encourager of the fine arts4 ,but1 on the other hand1 the highest branches of the fine arts are no encouragers either of idolatry or of religion4 ,no picture of ,leonardo's or ,raphael's1 no statue of ,michael ,angelo's1 has ever been worshipped1 except by accident4 ,carelessly regarded1 and by ignorant persons1 there is less to attract in them than in commoner works4 ,carefully regarded1 and by intelligent persons1 they instantly divert the mind from their subject to their art1 so that admiration takes the place of devotion4 ,i do not say that the ,madonna di ,s4 ,sisto1 the ,madonna del ,cardellino1 and such others1 have not had considerable religious influence on certain minds1 but ,i say that on the mass of the people of ,europe they have had none whatever2 while by far the greater number of the most celebrated statues and pictures are never regarded with any other feelings than those of admiration of human beauty1 or reverence for human skill4 ,effective religious art1 therefore1 has always lain1 and ,i believe must always lie1 between the two extremes--of barbarous idol-fashioning on one side1 and magnificent craftsmanship on the other4 ,it consists partly in missal painting1 and such book-illustrations as1 since the invention of printing1 have taken its place2 partly in glass-painting2 partly in rude sculpture on the outsides of buildings2 partly in mosaics2 and partly in the frescoes and tempera pictures which1 in the fourteenth century1 formed the link between this powerful1 because imperfect1 religious art1 and the impotent perfection which succeeded it4 ,,lxiii4 ,but of all these branches the most important are the inlaying and mosaic of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries1 represented in a central manner by these mosaics of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,missal-painting could not1 from its minuteness1 produce the same sublime impressions1 and frequently merged itself in mere ornamentation of the page4 ,modern book-illustration has been so little skilful as hardly to be worth naming4 ,sculpture1 though in some positions it becomes of great importance1 has always a tendency to lose itself in architectural effect2 and was probably seldom deciphered1 in all its parts1 by the common people1 still less the traditions annealed in the purple burning of the painted window4 ,finally1 tempera pictures and frescoes were often of limited size or of feeble color4 ,but the great mosaics of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries covered the walls and roofs of the churches with inevitable lustre2 they could not be ignored or escaped from2 their size rendered them majestic1 their distance mysterious1 their color attractive4 ,they did not pass into confused or inferior decorations2 neither were they adorned with any evidences of skill or science1 such as might withdraw the attention from their subjects4 ,they were before the eyes of the devotee at every interval of his worship2 vast shadowings forth of scenes to whose realization he looked forward1 or of spirits whose presence he invoked4 ,and the man must be little capable of receiving a religious impression of any kind1 who1 to this day1 does not acknowledge some feeling of awe1 as he looks up at the pale countenances and ghastly forms which haunt the dark roofs of the ,baptisteries of ,parma and ,florence1 or remains altogether untouched by the majesty of the colossal images of apostles1 and of ,him who sent apostles1 that look down from the darkening gold of the domes of ,venice and ,pisa4 ,,lxiv4 ,i shall1 in a future portion of this work1 endeavor to discover what probabilities there are of our being able to use this kind of art in modern churches2 but at present it remains for us to follow out the connexion of the subjects represented in ,st4 ,mark's so as to fulfil our immediate object1 and form an adequate conception of the feelings of its builders1 and of its uses to those for whom it was built4 ,now there is one circumstance to which ,i must1 in the outset1 direct the reader's special attention1 as forming a notable distinction between ancient and modern days4 ,our eyes are now familiar and wearied with writing2 and if an inscription is put upon a building1 unless it be large and clear1 it is ten to one whether we ever trouble ourselves to decipher it4 ,but the old architect was sure of readers4 ,he knew that every one would be glad to decipher all that he wrote2 that they would rejoice in possessing the vaulted leaves of his stone manuscript2 and that the more he gave them1 the more grateful would the people be4 ,we must take some pains1 therefore1 when we enter ,st4 ,mark's1 to read all that is inscribed1 or we shall not penetrate into the feeling either of the builder or of his times4 ,,lxv4 ,a large atrium or portico is attached to two sides of the church1 a space which was especially reserved for unbaptized persons and new converts4 ,it was thought right that1 before their baptism1 these persons should be led to contemplate the great facts of the ,old ,testament history2 the history of the ,fall of ,man1 and of the lives of ,patriarchs up to the period of the ,covenant by ,moses3 the order of the subjects in this series being very nearly the same as in many ,northern churches1 but significantly closing with the ,fall of the ,manna1 in order to mark to the catechumen the insufficiency of the ,mosaic covenant for salvation1--,our fathers did eat manna in the wilderness1 and are dead1--and to turn his thoughts to the true ,bread of which that manna was the type4 ,,lxvi4 ,then1 when after his baptism he was permitted to enter the church1 over its main entrance he saw1 on looking back1 a mosaic of ,christ enthroned1 with the ,virgin on one side and ,st4 ,mark on the other1 in attitudes of adoration4 ,christ is represented as holding a book open upon his knee1 on which is written3 ,i ,,am ,,the ,,door2 ,,by ,,me ,,if ,,any ,,man ,,enter ,,in1 ,,he ,,shall ,,be ,,saved4 ,on the red marble moulding which surrounds the mosaic is written3 ,i ,,am ,,the ,,gate ,,of ,,life2 ,,let ,,those ,,who ,,are ,,mine ,,enter ,,by ,,me4 ,above1 on the red marble fillet which forms the cornice of the west end of the church1 is written1 with reference to the figure of ,christ below3 ,,who ,,he ,,was1 ,,and ,,from ,,whom ,,he ,,came1 ,,and ,,at ,,what ,,price ,,he ,,redeemed ,,thee1 ,,and ,,why ,,he ,,made ,,thee1 ,,and ,,gave ,,thee ,,all ,,things1 ,,do ,,thou ,,consider4 ,now observe1 this was not to be seen and read only by the catechumen when he first entered the church2 every one who at any time entered1 was supposed to look back and to read this writing2 their daily entrance into the church was thus made a daily memorial of their first entrance into the spiritual ,church2 and we shall find that the rest of the book which was opened for them upon its walls continually led them in the same manner to regard the visible temple as in every part a type of the invisible ,church of ,god4 ,,lxvii4 ,therefore the mosaic of the first dome1 which is over the head of the spectator as soon as he has entered by the great door 7that door being the type of baptism71 represents the effusion of the ,holy ,spirit1 as the first consequence and seal of the entrance into the ,church of ,god4 ,in the centre of the cupola is the ,dove1 enthroned in the ,greek manner1 as the ,lamb is enthroned1 when the ,divinity of the ,second and ,third ,persons is to be insisted upon together with their peculiar offices4 ,from the central symbol of the ,holy ,spirit twelve streams of fire descend upon the heads of the twelve apostles1 who are represented standing around the dome2 and below them1 between the windows which are pierced in its walls1 are represented1 by groups of two figures for each separate people1 the various nations who heard the apostles speak1 at ,pentecost1 every man in his own tongue4 ,finally1 on the vaults1 at the four angles which support the cupola1 are pictured four angels1 each bearing a tablet upon the end of a rod in his hand3 on each of the tablets of the three first angels is inscribed the word ,holy2 on that of the fourth is written ,lord2 and the beginning of the hymn being thus put into the mouths of the four angels1 the words of it are continued around the border of the dome1 uniting praise to ,god for the gift of the ,spirit1 with welcome to the redeemed soul received into ,his ,church3 ,,holy1 ,,holy1 ,,holy1 ,,lord ,,god ,,of ,,sabaoth3 ,,heaven ,,and ,,earth ,,are ,,full ,,of ,,thy ,,glory4 ,,hosanna ,,in ,,the ,,highest3 ,,blessed ,,is ,,he ,,that ,,cometh ,,in ,,the ,,name ,,of ,,the ,,lord4 ,and observe in this writing that the convert is required to regard the outpouring of the ,holy ,spirit especially as a work of sanctification4 ,it is the holiness of ,god manifested in the giving of ,his ,spirit to sanctify those who had become ,his children1 which the four angels celebrate in their ceaseless praise2 and it is on account of this holiness that the heaven and earth are said to be full of ,his glory4 ,,lxviii4 ,after thus hearing praise rendered to ,god by the angels for the salvation of the newly-entered soul1 it was thought fittest that the worshipper should be led to contemplate1 in the most comprehensive forms possible1 the past evidence and the future hopes of ,christianity1 as summed up in three facts without assurance of which all faith is vain2 namely that ,christ died1 that ,he rose again1 and that ,he ascended into heaven1 there to prepare a place for ,his elect4 ,on the vault between the first and second cupolas are represented the crucifixion and resurrection of ,christ1 with the usual series of intermediate scenes1--the treason of ,judas1 the judgment of ,pilate1 the crowning with thorns1 the descent into ,hades1 the visit of the women to the sepulchre1 and the apparition to ,mary ,magdalene4 ,the second cupola itself1 which is the central and principal one of the church1 is entirely occupied by the subject of the ,ascension4 ,at the highest point of it ,christ is represented as rising into the blue heaven1 borne up by four angels1 and throned upon a rainbow1 the type of reconciliation4 ,beneath him1 the twelve apostles are seen upon the ,mount of ,olives1 with the ,madonna1 and1 in the midst of them1 the two men in white apparel who appeared at the moment of the ,ascension1 above whom1 as uttered by them1 are inscribed the words1 ,ye men of ,galilee1 why stand ye gazing up into heaven8 ,this ,christ1 the ,son of ,god1 as ,he is taken from you1 shall so come1 the arbiter of the earth1 trusted to do judgment and justice4 ,,lxix4 ,beneath the circle of the apostles1 between the windows of the cupola1 are represented the ,christian virtues1 as sequent upon the crucifixion of the flesh1 and the spiritual ascension together with ,christ4 ,beneath them1 on the vaults which support the angles of the cupola1 are placed the four ,evangelists1 because on their evidence our assurance of the fact of the ascension rests2 and1 finally1 beneath their feet1 as symbols of the sweetness and fulness of the ,gospel which they declared1 are represented the four rivers of ,paradise1 ,pison1 ,gihon1 ,tigris1 and ,euphrates4 ,,lxx4 ,the third cupola1 that over the altar1 represents the witness of the ,old ,testament to ,christ2 showing him enthroned in its centre1 and surrounded by the patriarchs and prophets4 ,but this dome was little seen by the people2#ch their contemplation was intended to be chiefly drawn to that of the centre of the church1 and thus the mind of the worshipper was at once fixed on the main groundwork and hope of ,christianity1--,christ is risen1 and ,christ shall come4 ,if he had time to explore the minor lateral chapels and cupolas1 he could find in them the whole series of ,new ,testament history1 the events of the ,life of ,christ1 and the ,apostolic miracles in their order1 and finally the scenery of the ,book of ,revelation2#ci but if he only entered1 as often the common people do to this hour1 snatching a few moments before beginning the labor of the day to offer up an ejaculatory prayer1 and advanced but from the main entrance as far as the altar screen1 all the splendor of the glittering nave and variegated dome1 if they smote upon his heart1 as they might often1 in strange contrast with his reed cabin among the shallows of the lagoon1 smote upon it only that they might proclaim the two great messages--,christ is risen1 and ,christ shall come4 ,daily1 as the white cupolas rose like wreaths of sea-foam in the dawn1 while the shadowy campanile and frowning palace were still withdrawn into the night1 they rose with the ,easter ,voice of ,triumph1--,christ is risen2 and daily1 as they looked down upon the tumult of the people1 deepening and eddying in the wide square that opened from their feet to the sea1 they uttered above them the sentence of warning1--,christ shall come4 ,,lxxxi4 ,and this thought may surely dispose the reader to look with some change of temper upon the gorgeous building and wild blazonry of that shrine of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,he now perceives that it was in the hearts of the old ,venetian people far more than a place of worship4 ,it was at once a type of the ,redeemed ,church of ,god1 and a scroll for the written word of ,god4 ,it was to be to them1 both an image of the ,bride1 all glorious within1 her clothing of wrought gold2 and the actual ,table of the ,law and the ,testimony1 written within and without4 ,and whether honored as the ,church or as the ,bible1 was it not fitting that neither the gold nor the crystal should be spared in the adornment of it2 that1 as the symbol of the ,bride1 the building of the wall thereof should be of jasper1#dj and the foundations of it garnished with all manner of precious stones2 and that1 as the channel of the ,world1 that triumphant utterance of the ,psalmist should be true of it1--,i have rejoiced in the way of thy testimonies1 as much as in all riches8 ,and shall we not look with changed temper down the long perspective of ,st4 ,mark's ,place towards the sevenfold gates and glowing domes of its temple1 when we know with what solemn purpose the shafts of it were lifted above the pavement of the populous square8 ,men met there from all countries of the earth1 for traffic or for pleasure2 but1 above the crowd swaying for ever to and fro in the restlessness of avarice or thirst of delight1 was seen perpetually the glory of the temple1 attesting to them1 whether they would hear or whether they would forbear1 that there was one treasure which the merchantmen might buy without a price1 and one delight better than all others1 in the word and the statutes of ,god4 ,not in the wantonness of wealth1 not in vain ministry to the desire of the eyes or the pride of life1 were those marbles hewn into transparent strength1 and those arches arrayed in the colors of the iris4 ,there is a message written in the dyes of them1 that once was written in blood2 and a sound in the echoes of their vaults1 that one day shall fill the vault of heaven1--,he shall return1 to do judgment and justice4 ,the strength of ,venice was given her1 so long as she remembered this3 her destruction found her when she had forgotten this2 and it found her irrevocably1 because she forgot it without excuse4 ,never had city a more glorious ,bible4 ,among the nations of the ,north1 a rude and shadowy sculpture filled their temples with confused and hardly legible imagery2 but1 for her1 the skill and the treasures of the ,east had gilded every letter1 and illumined every page1 till the ,book-,temple shone from afar off like the star of the ,magi4 ,in other cities1 the meetings of the people were often in places withdrawn from religious association1 subject to violence and to change2 and on the grass of the dangerous rampart1 and in the dust of the troubled street1 there were deeds done and counsels taken1 which1 if we cannot justify1 we may sometimes forgive4 ,but the sins of ,venice1 whether in her palace or in her piazza1 were done with the ,bible at her right hand4 ,the walls on which its testimony was written were separated but by a few inches of marble from those which guarded the secrets of her councils1 or confined the victims of her policy4 ,and when in her last hours she threw off all shame and all restraint1 and the great square of the city became filled with the madness of the whole earth1 be it remembered how much her sin was greater1 because it was done in the face of the ,house of ,god1 burning with the letters of ,his ,law4 ,mountebank and masquer laughed their laugh1 and went their way2 and a silence has followed them1 not unforetold2 for amidst them all1 through century after century of gathering vanity and festering guilt1 that white dome of ,st4 ,mark's had uttered in the dead ear of ,venice1 ,know thou1 that for all these things ,god will bring thee into judgment4 ,,footnotes #ai ,acts1 xiii4 #ac2 xv4 #ch1 #ci4 #bj ,the reader who desires to investigate it may consult ,galliciolli1 ,delle ,memorie ,venete 7,venice1 #agie71 tom4 ii4 p4 #ccb1 and the authorities quoted by him4 #ba ,venice1 #agfa1 tom4 i4 p4 #abf4 #bb ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 partly covered by turf1 and planted with a few trees2 and on account of its pleasant aspect called ,brollo or ,broglio1 that is to say1 ,garden4 ,the canal passed through it1 over which is built the bridge of the ,malpassi1 ,galliciolli1 lib4 i4 cap4 viii4 #bc ,my authorities for this statement are given below1 in the chapter on the ,ducal ,palace4 #bd ,in the ,chronicles1 ,sancti ,marci ,ducalis ,cappella4 #be ,to ,god the ,lord1 the glorious ,virgin ,annunciate1 and the ,protector ,st4 ,mark4--,corner1 p4 #ad4 ,it is needless to trouble the reader with the various authorities for the above statements3 ,i have consulted the best4 ,the previous inscription once existing on the church itself3 ,anno milleno transacto bisque trigeno ,desuper undecimo fuit facta primo1 is no longer to be seen1 and is conjectured by ,corner1 with much probability1 to have perished in qualche ristauro4 #bf ,signed ,bartolomeus ,bozza1 #afcd1 #afdg1 #afef1 c4 #bg ,guida di ,venezia1 p4 #f4 #bh ,the mere warmth of ,st4 ,mark's in winter1 which is much greater than that of the other two churches above named1 must1 however1 be taken into consideration1 as one of the most efficient causes of its being then more frequented4 #bi ,i said above that the larger number of the devotees entered by the ,arabian porch2 the porch1 that is to say1 on the north side of the church1 remarkable for its rich ,arabian archivolt1 and through which access is gained immediately to the northern transept4 ,the reason is1 that in that transept is the chapel of the ,madonna1 which has a greater attraction for the ,venetians than all the rest of the church besides4 ,the old builders kept their images of the ,virgin subordinate to those of ,christ2 but modern ,romanism has retrograded from theirs1 and the most glittering portions of the whole church are the two recesses behind this lateral altar1 covered with silver hearts dedicated to the ,virgin4 #cj ,vide ,builder1 for ,october1 #ahea4 #ca ,quivi presso si vedi una colonna di tanta bellezza e finezza che e riputato piutosto gioia che pietra4--,sansovino1 of the verd-antique pillar in ,san ,jacomo dell' ,orio4 ,a remarkable piece of natural history and moral philosophy1 connected with this subject1 will be found in the second chapter of our third volume1 quoted from the work of a ,florentine architect of the fifteenth century4 #cb ,the fact is1 that no two tesser of the glass are exactly of the same tint1 the greens being all varied with blues1 the blues of different depths1 the reds of different clearness1 so that the effect of each mass of color is full of variety1 like the stippled color of a fruit piece4 #cc ,some illustration1 also1 of what was said in ,,xxxiii4 above1 respecting the value of the shafts of ,st4 ,mark's as large jewels1 will be found in ,appendix #i1 ,shafts of ,st4 ,mark's4 #cd ,see the farther notice of this subject in ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,iv4 #ce ,i do not mean that modern ,christians believe less in the facts than ancient ,christians1 but they do not believe in the representation of the facts as true4 ,we look upon the picture as this or that painter's conception2 the elder ,christians looked upon it as this or that painter's description of what had actually taken place4 ,and in the ,greek ,church all painting is1 to this day1 strictly a branch of tradition4 ,see ,m4 ,dideron's admirably written introduction to his ,iconographie ,chrtienne1 p4 #g3--,un de mes compagnons s'tonnait de retrouver la ,panagia de ,st4 ,luc1 le saint ,jean ,chrysostome qu'il avait dessin dans le baptistre de ,st4 ,marc1 ,venise4 ,le costume des personnages est partout et en tout temps le mme1 non-seulement pour la forme1 mais pour la couleur1 mais pour le dessin1 mais jusque pour le nombre et l'paisseur des plis4 #cf ,all the effects of ,byzantine art to represent violent action are inadequate1 most of them ludicrously so1 even when the sculptural art is in other respects far advanced4 ,the early ,gothic sculptors1 on the other hand1 fail in all points of refinement1 but hardly ever in expression of action4 ,this distinction is of course one of the necessary consequences of the difference in all respects between the repose of the ,eastern1 and activity of the ,western1 mind1 which we shall have to trace out completely in the inquiry into the nature of ,gothic4 #cg ,appendix #aj1 ,proper ,sense of the word ,idolatry4 #ch ,it is also of inferior workmanship1 and perhaps later than the rest4 ,vide ,lord ,lindsay1 vol4 i4 p4 #abd1 note4 #ci ,the old mosaics from the ,revelation have perished1 and have been replaced by miserable work of the seventeenth century4 #dj ,rev4 xxi4 #ah4 ,,chapter ,v4 ,,byzantine ,,palaces4 ,i4 ,the account of the architecture of ,st4 ,mark's given in the previous chapter has1 ,i trust1 acquainted the reader sufficiently with the spirit of the ,byzantine style3 but he has probably1 as yet1 no clear idea of its generic forms4 ,nor would it be safe to define these after an examination of ,st4 ,mark's alone1 built as it was upon various models1 and at various periods4 ,but if we pass through the city1 looking for buildings which resemble ,st4 ,mark's--first1 in the most important feature of incrustation2 secondly1 in the character of the mouldings1--we shall find a considerable number1 not indeed very attractive in their first address to the eye1 but agreeing perfectly1 both with each other1 and with the earliest portions of ,st4 ,mark's1 in every important detail2 and to be regarded1 therefore1 with profound interest1 as indeed the remains of an ancient city of ,venice1 altogether different in aspect from that which now exists4 ,from these remains we may with safety deduce general conclusions touching the forms of ,byzantine architecture1 as practised in ,eastern ,italy1 during the eleventh1 twelfth1 and thirteenth centuries4 ,,ii4 ,they agree in another respect1 as well as in style4 ,all are either ruins1 or fragments disguised by restoration4 ,not one of them is uninjured or unaltered2 and the impossibility of finding so much as an angle or a single story in perfect condition is a proof1 hardly less convincing than the method of their architecture1 that they were indeed raised during the earliest phases of the ,venetian power4 ,the mere fragments1 dispersed in narrow streets1 and recognizable by a single capital1 or the segment of an arch1 ,i shall not enumerate3 but1 of important remains1 there are six in the immediate neighborhood of the ,rialto1 one in the ,rio di ,ca' ,foscari1 and one conspicuously placed opposite the great ,renaissance ,palace known as the ,vendramin ,calerghi1 one of the few palaces still inhabited#da and well maintained2 and noticeable1 moreover1 as having a garden beside it1 rich with evergreens1 and decorated by gilded railings and white statues that cast long streams of snowy reflection down into the deep water4 ,the vista of canal beyond is terminated by the ,church of ,st4 ,geremia1 another but less attractive work of the ,renaissance2 a mass of barren brickwork1 with a dull leaden dome above1 like those of our ,national ,gallery4 ,so that the spectator has the richest and meanest of the late architecture of ,venice before him at once3 the richest1 let him observe1 a piece of private luxury2 the poorest1 that which was given to ,god4 ,then1 looking to the left1 he will see the fragment of the work of earlier ages1 testifying against both1 not less by its utter desolation than by the nobleness of the traces that are still left of it4 ,,iii4 ,it is a ghastly ruin2 whatever is venerable or sad in its wreck being disguised by attempts to put it to present uses of the basest kind4 ,it has been composed of arcades borne by marble shafts1 and walls of brick faced with marble3 but the covering stones have been torn away from it like the shroud from a corpse2 and its walls1 rent into a thousand chasms1 are filled and refilled with fresh brickwork1 and the seams and hollows are choked with clay and whitewash1 oozing and trickling over the marble1--itself blanched into dusty decay by the frosts of centuries4 ,soft grass and wandering leafage have rooted themselves in the rents1 but they are not suffered to grow in their own wild and gentle way1 for the place is in a sort inhabited2 rotten partitions are nailed across its corridors1 and miserable rooms contrived in its western wing2 and here and there the weeds are indolently torn down1 leaving their haggard fibres to struggle again into unwholesome growth when the spring next stirs them3 and thus1 in contest between death and life1 the unsightly heap is festering to its fall4 ,of its history little is recorded1 and that little futile4 ,that it once belonged to the dukes of ,ferrara1 and was bought from them in the sixteenth century1 to be made a general receptacle for the goods of the ,turkish merchants1 whence it is now generally known as the ,fondaco1 or ,fontico1 de' ,turchi1 are facts just as important to the antiquary1 as that1 in the year #aheb1 the municipality of ,venice allowed its lower story to be used for a deposito di ,tabacchi4 ,neither of this1 nor of any other remains of the period1 can we know anything but what their own stones will tell us4 ,,iv4 ,the reader will find in ,appendix #aa1 written chiefly for the traveller's benefit1 an account of the situation and present state of the other seven ,byzantine palaces4 ,here ,i shall only give a general account of the most interesting points in their architecture4 ,they all agree in being round-arched and incrusted with marble1 but there are only six in which the original disposition of the parts is anywise traceable2 namely1 those distinguished in the ,appendix as the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 ,casa ,loredan1 ,caso ,farsetti1 ,rio-,foscari ,house1 ,terraced ,house1 and ,madonnetta ,house3#db and these six agree farther in having continuous arcades along their entire fronts from one angle to the other1 and in having their arcades divided1 in each case1 into a centre and wings2 both by greater size in the midmost arches1 and by the alternation of shafts in the centre1 with pilasters1 or with small shafts1 at the flanks4 ,v4 ,so far as their structure can be traced1 they agree also in having tall and few arches in their lower stories1 and shorter and more numerous arches above3 but it happens most unfortunately that in the only two cases in which the second stories are left the ground floors are modernized1 and in the others where the sea stories are left the second stories are modernized2 so that we never have more than two tiers of the ,byzantine arches1 one above the other4 ,these1 however1 are quite enough to show the first main point on which ,i wish to insist1 namely1 the subtlety of the feeling for proportion in the ,greek architects2 and ,i hope that even the general reader will not allow himself to be frightened by the look of a few measurements1 for1 if he will only take the little pains necessary to compare them1 he will1 ,i am almost certain1 find the result not devoid of interest4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,iv4 ,,vi4 ,i had intended originally to give elevations of all these palaces2 but have not had time to prepare plates requiring so much labor and care4 ,i must1 therefore1 explain the position of their parts in the simplest way in my power4 ,the ,fondaco de' ,turchi has sixteen arches in its sea story1 and twenty-six above them in its first story1 the whole based on a magnificent foundation1 built of blocks of red marble1 some of them seven feet long by a foot and a half thick1 and raised to a height of about five feet above high-water mark4 ,at this level1 the elevation of one half of the building1 from its flank to the central pillars of its arcades1 is rudely given in ,fig4 ,,iv41 in the previous page4 ,it is only drawn to show the arrangement of the parts1 as the sculptures which are indicated by the circles and upright oblongs between the arches are too delicate to be shown in a sketch three times the size of this4 ,the building once was crowned with an ,arabian parapet2 but it was taken down some years since1 and ,i am aware of no authentic representation of its details4 ,the greater part of the sculptures between the arches1 indicated in the woodcut only by blank circles1 have also fallen1 or been removed1 but enough remain on the two flanks to justify the representation given in the diagram of their original arrangement4 ,and now observe the dimensions4 ,the small arches of the wings in the ground story1 a1 a1 a1 measure1 in breadth1 from ,ft4 ,in4 shaft to shaft #d #e interval b #g #f interval c #g #aa intervals d1 e1 f1 c4 #h #a ,the difference between the width of the arches b and c is necessitated by the small recess of the cornice on the left hand as compared with that of the great capitals2 but this sudden difference of half a foot between the two extreme arches of the centre offended the builder's eye1 so he diminished the next one1 unnecessarily1 two inches1 and thus obtained the gradual cadence to the flanks1 from eight feet down to four and a half1 in a series of continually increasing steps4 ,of course the effect cannot be shown in the diagram1 as the first difference is less than the thickness of its lines4 ,in the upper story the capitals are all nearly of the same height1 and there was no occasion for the difference between the extreme arches4 ,its twenty-six arches are placed1 four small ones above each lateral three of the lower arcade1 and eighteen larger above the central ten2 thus throwing the shafts into all manner of relative positions1 and completely confusing the eye in any effort to count them3 but there is an exquisite symmetry running through their apparent confusion2 for it will be seen that the four arches in each flank are arranged in two groups1 of which one has a large single shaft in the centre1 and the other a pilaster and two small shafts4 ,the way in which the large shaft is used as an echo of those in the central arcade1 dovetailing them1 as it were1 into the system of the pilasters1--just as a great painter1 passing from one tone of color to another1 repeats1 over a small space1 that which he has left1--is highly characteristic of the ,byzantine care in composition4 ,there are other evidences of it in the arrangement of the capitals1 which will be noticed below in the seventh chapter4 ,the lateral arches of this upper arcade measure #c ft4 #b in4 across1 and the central #c ft4 #aa in41 so that the arches in the building are altogether of six magnitudes4 ,,vii4 ,next let us take the ,casa ,loredan4 ,the mode of arrangement of its pillars is precisely like that of the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 so that ,i shall merely indicate them by vertical lines in order to be able to letter the intervals4 ,it has five arches in the centre of the lower story1 and two in each of its wings4 ,illustration ,ft4 ,in4 ,the midmost interval1 a1 of the central five1 is #f #a ,the two on each side1 b1 b #e #b ,the two extremes1 c1 c #d #i ,inner arches of the wings1 d1 d #d #d ,outer arches of the wings1 e1 e #d #f ,the gradation of these dimensions is visible at a glance2 the boldest step being here taken nearest the centre1 while in the ,fondaco it is farthest from the centre4 ,the first loss here is of eleven inches1 the second of five1 the third of five1 and then there is a most subtle increase of two inches in the extreme arches1 as if to contradict the principle of diminution1 and stop the falling away of the building by firm resistance at its flanks4 ,i could not get the measures of the upper story accurately1 the palace having been closed all the time ,i was in ,venice2 but it has seven central arches above the five below1 and three at the flanks above the two below1 the groups being separated by double shafts4 ,,viii4 ,again1 in the ,casa ,farsetti1 the lower story has a centre of five arches1 and wings of two4 ,referring1 therefore1 to the last figure1 which will answer for this palace also1 the measures of the intervals are3 ,ft4 ,in4 a #h #j b #e #aj c #e #d d and e #e #c ,it is1 however1 possible that the interval c and the wing arches may have been intended to be similar2 for one of the wing arches measures #e ft4 #d in4 ,we have thus a simpler proportion than any we have hitherto met with2 only two losses taking place1 the first of #b ft4 #b in41 the second of #f inches4 ,the upper story has a central group of seven arches1 whose widths are #d ft4 #a in4 ,ft4 ,in4 ,the next arch on each side #c #e ,the three arches of each wing #c #f ,here again we have a most curious instance of the subtlety of eye which was not satisfied without a third dimension1 but could be satisfied with a difference of an inch on three feet and a half4 ,,ix4 ,in the ,terraced ,house1 the ground floor is modernized1 but the first story is composed of a centre of five arches1 with wings of two1 measuring as follows3 ,ft4 ,in4 ,three midmost arches of the central group #d #j ,outermost arch of the central group #d #f ,innermost arch of the wing #d #aj ,outermost arch of the wing#dc #e #j ,here the greatest step is towards the centre2 but the increase1 which is unusual1 is towards the outside1 the gain being successively six1 four1 and two inches4 ,i could not obtain the measures of the second story1 in which only the central group is left2 but the two outermost arches are visibly larger than the others1 thus beginning a correspondent proportion to the one below1 of which the lateral quantities have been destroyed by restorations4 ,x4 ,finally1 in the ,rio-,foscari ,house1 the central arch is the principal feature1 and the four lateral ones form one magnificent wing2 the dimensions being from the centre to the side3 ,ft4 ,in4 ,central arch #i #i ,second #c #h ,third #c #aj ,fourth #c #aj ,fifth #c #h ,the difference of two inches on nearly three feet in the two midmost arches being all that was necessary to satisfy the builder's eye4 ,,xi4 ,i need not point out to the reader that these singular and minute harmonies of proportion indicate1 beyond all dispute1 not only that the buildings in which they are found are of one school1 but 7so far as these subtle coincidences of measurement can still be traced in them7 in their original form4 ,no modern builder has any idea of connecting his arches in this manner1 and restorations in ,venice are carried on with too violent hands to admit of the supposition that such refinements would be even noticed in the progress of demolition1 much less imitated in heedless reproduction4 ,and as if to direct our attention especially to this character1 as indicative of ,byzantine workmanship1 the most interesting example of all will be found in the arches of the front of ,st4 ,mark's itself1 whose proportions ,i have not noticed before1 in order that they might here be compared with those of the contemporary palaces4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,v4 ,,xii4 ,the doors actually employed for entrance in the western faade are as usual five1 arranged as at a in the annexed woodcut1 ,fig4 ,v42 but the ,byzantine builder could not be satisfied with so simple a group1 and he introduced1 therefore1 two minor arches at the extremities1 as at b1 by adding two small porticos which are of no use whatever except to consummate the proportions of the faade1 and themselves to exhibit the most exquisite proportions in arrangements of shaft and archivolt with which ,i am acquainted in the entire range of ,european architecture4 ,into these minor particulars ,i cannot here enter2 but observe the dimensions of the range of arches in the faade1 as thus completed by the flanking porticos3 ,ft4 ,in4 ,the space of its central archivolt is #ca #h the two on each side1 about#dd #ai #h the two succeeding1 about #bj #d small arches at flanks1 about #f #j ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,vi4 ,i need not make any comment upon the subtle difference of eight inches on twenty feet between the second and third dimensions4 ,if the reader will be at the pains to compare the whole evidence now laid before him1 with that deduced above from the apse of ,murano1 he cannot but confess that it amounts to an irrefragable proof of an intense perception of harmony in the relation of quantities1 on the part of the ,byzantine architects2 a perception which we have at present lost so utterly as hardly to be able even to conceive it4 ,and let it not be said1 as it was of the late discoveries of subtle curvature in the ,parthenon1#de that what is not to be demonstrated without laborious measurement1 cannot have influence on the beauty of the design4 ,the eye is continually influenced by what it cannot detect2 nay1 it is not going too far to say1 that it is most influenced by what it detects least4 ,let the painter define1 if he can1 the variations of lines on which depend the changes of expression in the human countenance4 ,the greater he is1 the more he will feel their subtlety1 and the intense difficulty of perceiving all their relations1 or answering for the consequences of a variation of a hair's breadth in a single curve4 ,indeed1 there is nothing truly noble either in color or in form1 but its power depends on circumstances infinitely too intricate to be explained1 and almost too subtle to be traced4 ,and as for these ,byzantine buildings1 we only do not feel them because we do not watch them2 otherwise we should as much enjoy the variety of proportion in their arches1 as we do at present that of the natural architecture of flowers and leaves4 ,any of us can feel in an instant the grace of the leaf group1 b1 in the annexed figure2 and yet that grace is simply owing to its being proportioned like the faade of ,st4 ,mark's2 each leaflet answering to an arch1--the smallest at the root1 to those of the porticos4 ,i have tried to give the proportion quite accurately in b2 but as the difference between the second and third leaflets is hardly discernible on so small a scale1 it is somewhat exaggerated in a4#df ,nature is often far more subtle in her proportions4 ,in looking at some of the nobler species of lilies1 full in the front of the flower1 we may fancy for a moment that they form a symmetrical six-petaled star2 but on examining them more closely1 we shall find that they are thrown into a group of three magnitudes by the expansion of two of the inner petals above the stamens to a breadth greater than any of the four others2 while the third inner petal1 on which the stamens rest1 contracts itself into the narrowest of the six1 and the three under petals remain of one intermediate magnitude1 as seen in the annexed figure4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,vii4 ,,xiii4 ,i must not1 however1 weary the reader with this subject1 which has always been a favorite one with me1 and is apt to lead too far2 we will return to the palaces on the ,grand ,canal4 ,admitting1 then1 that their fragments are proved1 by the minute correspondences of their arrangement1 to be still in their original positions1 they indicate to us a form1 whether of palace or dwelling-house1 in which there were1 universally1 central galleries1 or loggias1 opening into apartments on each wing1 the amount of light admitted being immense2 and the general proportions of the building1 slender1 light1 and graceful in the utmost degree1 it being in fact little more than an aggregate of shafts and arches4 ,of the interior disposition of these palaces there is in no instance the slightest trace left1 nor am ,i well enough acquainted with the existing architecture of the ,east to risk any conjecture on this subject4 ,i pursue the statement of the facts which still are ascertainable respecting their external forms4 ,,xiv4 ,in every one of the buildings above mentioned1 except the ,rio-,foscari ,house 7which has only one great entrance between its wings71 the central arcades are sustained1 at least in one story1 and generally in both1 on bold detached cylindrical shafts1 with rich capitals1 while the arches of the wings are carried on smaller shafts assisted by portions of wall1 which become pilasters of greater or less width4 ,and now ,i must remind the reader of what was pointed out above 7,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,,xxvii4 ,,iii4 ,,xxxv4 ,,xl471 that there are two great orders of capitals in the world2 that one of these is convex in its contour1 the other concave2 and that richness of ornament1 with all freedom of fancy1 is for the most part found in the one1 and severity of ornament1 with stern discipline of the fancy1 in the other4 ,of these two families of capitals both occur in the ,byzantine period1 but the concave group is the longest-lived1 and extends itself into the ,gothic times4 ,in the account which ,i gave of them in the first volume1 they were illustrated by giving two portions of a simple curve1 that of a salvia leaf4 ,we must now investigate their characters more in detail2 and these may be best generally represented by considering both families as formed upon the types of flowers1--the one upon that of the water-lily1 the other upon that of the convolvulus4 ,there was no intention in the ,byzantine architects to imitate either one or the other of these flowers2 but1 as ,i have already so often repeated1 all beautiful works of art must either intentionally imitate or accidentally resemble natural forms2 and the direct comparison with the natural forms which these capitals most resemble1 is the likeliest mode of fixing their distinctions in the reader's mind4 ,the one then1 the convex family1 is modelled according to the commonest shapes of that great group of flowers which form rounded cups1 like that of the water-lily1 the leaves springing horizontally from the stalk1 and closing together upwards4 ,the rose is of this family1 but her cup is filled with the luxuriance of her leaves2 the crocus1 campanula1 ranunculus1 anemone1 and almost all the loveliest children of the field1 are formed upon the same type4 ,the other family resembles the convolvulus1 trumpet-flower1 and such others1 in which the lower part of the bell is slender1 and the lip curves outwards at the top4 ,there are fewer flowers constructed on this than on the convex model2 but in the organization of trees and of clusters of herbage it is seen continually4 ,of course1 both of these conditions are modified1 when applied to capitals1 by the enormously greater thickness of the stalk or shaft1 but in other respects the parallelism is close and accurate2 and the reader had better at once fix the flower outlines in his mind1#dg and remember them as representing the only two orders of capitals that the world has ever seen1 or can see4 ,,xv4 ,the examples of the concave family in the ,byzantine times are found principally either in large capitals founded on the ,greek ,corinthian1 used chiefly for the nave pillars of churches1 or in the small lateral shafts of the palaces4 ,it appears somewhat singular that the pure ,corinthian form should have been reserved almost exclusively for nave pillars1 as at ,torcello1 ,murano1 and ,st4 ,mark's2 it occurs1 indeed1 together with almost every other form1 on the exterior of ,st4 ,mark's also1 but never so definitely as in the nave and transept shafts4 ,of the conditions assumed by it at ,torcello enough has been said2 and one of the most delicate of the varieties occurring in ,st4 ,mark's is given in ,plate ,,viii41 fig4 #ae1 remarkable for the cutting of the sharp thistle-like leaves into open relief1 so that the light sometimes shines through them from behind1 and for the beautiful curling of the extremities of the leaves outwards1 joining each other at the top1 as in an undivided flower4 ,,xvi4 ,the other characteristic examples of the concave groups in the ,byzantine times are as simple as those resulting from the ,corinthian are rich4 ,they occur on the small shafts at the flanks of the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 the ,casa ,farsetti1 ,casa ,loredan1 ,terraced ,house1 and upper story of the ,madonnetta ,house1 in forms so exactly similar that the two figures #a and #b in ,plate ,,viii4 may sufficiently represent them all4 ,they consist merely of portions cut out of the plinths or string-courses which run along all the faces of these palaces1 by four truncations in the form of arrowy leaves 7fig4 #a1 ,fondaco de' ,turchi71 and the whole rounded a little at the bottom so as to fit the shaft4 ,when they occur between two arches they assume the form of the group fig4 #b 7,terraced ,house74 ,fig4 #c is from the central arches of the ,casa ,farsetti1 and is only given because either it is a later restoration or a form absolutely unique in the ,byzantine period4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,vii4 ,,byzantine ,,capitals4 ,,convex ,,group4 ,,xvii4 ,the concave group1 however1 was not naturally pleasing to the ,byzantine mind4 ,its own favorite capital was of the bold convex or cushion shape1 so conspicuous in all the buildings of the period that ,i have devoted ,plate ,,vii41 opposite1 entirely to its illustration4 ,the form in which it is first used is practically obtained from a square block laid on the head of the shaft 7fig4 #a1 ,plate ,,vii471 by first cutting off the lower corners1 as in fig4 #b1 and then rounding the edges1 as in fig4 #c2 this gives us the bell stone3 on this is laid a simple abacus1 as seen in fig4 #d1 which is the actual form used in the upper arcade of ,murano1 and the framework of the capital is complete4 ,fig4 #e shows the general manner and effect of its decoration on the same scale2 the other figures1 #f and #g1 both from the apse of ,murano1 #h1 from the ,terraced ,house1 and #i1 from the ,baptistery of ,st4 ,mark's1 show the method of chiselling the surfaces in capitals of average richness1 such as occur everywhere1 for there is no limit to the fantasy and beauty of the more elaborate examples4 ,,xviii4 ,in consequence of the peculiar affection entertained for these massy forms by the ,byzantines1 they were apt1 when they used any condition of capital founded on the ,corinthian1 to modify the concave profile by making it bulge out at the bottom4 ,fig4 #a1 a1 ,plate ,x41 is the profile of a capital of the pure concave family2 and observe1 it needs a fillet or cord round the neck of the capital to show where it separates from the shaft4 ,fig4 #d1 a1 on the other hand1 is the profile of the pure convex group1 which not only needs no such projecting fillet1 but would be encumbered by it2 while fig4 #b1 a1 is the profile of one of the ,byzantine capitals 7,fondaco de' ,turchi1 lower arcade7 founded on ,corinthian1 of which the main sweep is concave1 but which bends below into the convex bell-shape1 where it joins the shaft4 ,and1 lastly1 fig4 #c1 a1 is the profile of the nave shafts of ,st4 ,mark's1 where1 though very delicately granted1 the concession to the ,byzantine temper is twofold2 first at the spring of the curve from the base1 and secondly the top1 where it again becomes convex1 though the expression of the ,corinthian bell is still given to it by the bold concave leaves4 ,,xix4 ,these1 then1 being the general modifications of ,byzantine profiles1 ,i have thrown together in ,plate ,,viii41 opposite1 some of the most characteristic examples of the decoration of the concave and transitional types2 their localities are given in the note below1#dh and the following are the principal points to be observed respecting them4 ,the purest concave forms1 #a and #b1 were never decorated in the earliest times1 except sometimes by an incision or rib down the centre of their truncations on the angles4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,viii4 ,,byzantine ,,capitals4 ,,concave ,,group4 ,figures #d1 #e1 #f1 and #g show some of the modes of application of a peculiarly broad-lobed acanthus leaf1 very characteristic of native ,venetian work2 #d and #e are from the same building1 two out of a group of four1 and show the boldness of the variety admitted in the management even of the capitals most closely derived from the ,corinthian4 ,i never saw one of these ,venetian capitals in all respects like another4 ,the trefoils into which the leaves fall at the extremities are1 however1 for the most part similar1 though variously disposed1 and generally niche themselves one under the other1 as very characteristically in fig4 #g4 ,the form #h occurs in ,st4 ,mark's only1 and there very frequently3 #i at ,venice occurs1 ,i think1 in ,st4 ,mark's only2 but it is a favorite early ,lombardic form4 #aj1 #aa1 and #ab are all highly characteristic4 #aj occurs with more fantastic interweaving upon its sides in the upper stories of ,st4 ,mark's2 #aa is derived1 in the ,casa ,loredan1 from the great lily capitals of ,st4 ,mark's1 of which more presently4 #ac and #ae are peculiar to ,st4 ,mark's4 #ad is a lovely condition1 occurring both there and in the ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 ,the modes in which the separate portions of the leaves are executed in these and other ,byzantine capitals1 will be noticed more at length hereafter4 ,here ,i only wish the reader to observe two things1 both with respect to these and the capitals of the convex family on the former ,plate3 first the ,life1 secondly1 the ,breadth1 of these capitals1 as compared with ,greek forms4 ,,xx4 ,i say1 first1 the ,life4 ,not only is every one of these capitals differently fancied1 but there are many of them which have no two sides alike4 ,fig4 #e1 for instance1 varies on every side in the arrangement of the pendent leaf in its centre2 fig4 #f has a different plant on each of its four upper angles4 ,the birds are each cut with a different play of plumage in figs4 #i and #ab1 and the vine-leaves are every one varied in their position in fig4 #ac4 ,but this is not all4 ,the differences in the character of ornamentation between them and the ,greek capitals1 all show a greater love of nature2 the leaves are1 every one of them1 more founded on realities1 sketched1 however rudely1 more directly from the truth2 and are continually treated in a manner which shows the mind of the workman to have been among the living herbage1 not among ,greek precedents4 ,the hard outlines in which1 for the sake of perfect intelligibility1 ,i have left this ,plate1 have deprived the examples of the vitality of their light and shade2 but the reader can nevertheless observe the ideas of life occurring perpetually3 at the top of fig4 #d1 for instance1 the small leaves turned sideways2 in fig4 #e1 the formal volutes of the old ,corinthian transformed into a branching tendril2 in fig4 #f1 the bunch of grapes thrown carelessly in at the right-hand corner1 in defiance of all symmetry2 in fig4 #g1 the volutes knitted into wreaths of ivy2 in fig4 #ad1 the leaves1 drifted1 as it were1 by a whirlwind round the capital by which they rise2 while figs4 #ac and #ae are as completely living leaves as any of the ,gothic time4 ,these designs may or may not be graceful2 what grace or beauty they have is not to be rendered in mere outline1--but they are indisputably more natural than any ,greek ones1 and therefore healthier1 and tending to greatness4 ,,xxi4 ,in the second place1 note in all these examples1 the excessive breadth of the masses1 however afterwards they may be filled with detail4 ,whether we examine the contour of the simpler convex bells1 or those of the leaves which bend outwards from the richer and more ,corinthian types1 we find they are all outlined by grand and simple curves1 and that the whole of their minute fretwork and thistle-work is cast into a gigantic mould which subdues all their multitudinous points and foldings to its own inevitable dominion4 ,and the fact is1 that in the sweeping lines and broad surfaces of these ,byzantine sculptures we obtain1 so far as ,i know1 for the first time in the history of art1 the germ of that unity of perfect ease in every separate part1 with perfect subjection to an enclosing form or directing impulse1 which was brought to its most intense expression in the compositions of the two men in whom the art of ,italy consummated itself and expired--,tintoret and ,michael ,angelo4 ,i would not attach too much importance to the mere habit of working on the rounded surface of the stone1 which is often as much the result of haste or rudeness as of the desire for breadth1 though the result obtained is not the less beautiful4 ,but in the capital from the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 fig4 #f1 it will be seen that while the sculptor had taken the utmost care to make his leaves free1 graceful1 and sharp in effect1 he was dissatisfied with their separation1 and could not rest until he had enclosed them with an unbroken line1 like that of a pointed arch2 and the same thing is done in many different ways in other capitals of the same building1 and in many of ,st4 ,mark's3 but one such instance would have been enough to prove1 if the loveliness of the profiles themselves did not do so1 that the sculptor understood and loved the laws of generalization2 and that the feeling which bound his prickly leaves1 as they waved or drifted round the ridges of his capital1 into those broad masses of unbroken flow1 was indeed one with that which made ,michael ,angelo encompass the principal figure in his ,creation of ,adam with the broad curve of its cloudy drapery4 ,it may seem strange to assert any connexion between so great a conception and these rudely hewn fragments of ruined marble2 but all the highest principles of art are as universal as they are majestic1 and there is nothing too small to receive their influence4 ,they rule at once the waves of the mountain outline1 and the sinuosities of the minutest lichen that stains its shattered stones4 ,,xxii4 ,we have not yet spoken of the three braided and chequered capitals1 numbered #aj1 #aa1 and #ab4 ,they are representations of a group1 with which many most interesting associations are connected4 ,it was noticed in the last chapter1 that the method of covering the exterior of buildings with thin pieces of marble was likely to lead to a system of lighting the interior by minute perforation4 ,in order to obtain both light and air1 without admitting any unbroken body of sunshine1 in warm countries1 it became a constant habit of the ,arabian architects to pierce minute and starlike openings in slabs of stone2 and to employ the stones so pierced where the ,gothic architects employ traceries4 ,internally1 the form of stars assumed by the light as it entered#di was1 in itself1 an exquisite decoration2 but1 externally1 it was felt necessary to add some slight ornament upon the surface of the perforated stone2 and it was soon found that1 as the small perforations had a tendency to look scattered and spotty1 the most effective treatment of the intermediate surfaces would be one which bound them together1 and gave unity and repose to the pierced and disturbed stone3 universally1 therefore1 those intermediate spaces were carved into the semblance of interwoven fillets1 which alternately sank beneath and rose above each other as they met4 ,this system of braided or woven ornament was not confined to the ,arabs2 it is universally pleasing to the instinct of mankind4 ,i believe that nearly all early ornamentation is full of it1--more especially1 perhaps1 ,scandinavian and ,anglo-,saxon2 and illuminated manuscripts depend upon it for their loveliest effects of intricate color1 up to the close of the thirteenth century4 ,there are several very interesting metaphysical reasons for this strange and unfailing delight1 felt in a thing so simple4 ,it is not often that any idea of utility has power to enhance the true impressions of beauty2 but it is possible that the enormous importance of the art of weaving to mankind may give some interest1 if not actual attractiveness1 to any type or image of the invention to which we owe1 at once1 our comfort and our pride4 ,but the more profound reason lies in the innate love of mystery and unity2 in the joy that the human mind has in contemplating any kind of maze or entanglement1 so long as it can discern1 through its confusion1 any guiding clue or connecting plan3 a pleasure increased and solemnized by some dim feeling of the setting forth1 by such symbols1 of the intricacy1 and alternate rise and fall1 subjection and supremacy1 of human fortune2 the ,weave the warp1 and weave the woof1 of ,fate and ,time4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,ix4 ,,lily ,,capital ,,of ,,st4 ,,marks4 ,,xxiii4 ,but be this as it may1 the fact is that we are never tired of contemplating this woven involution2 and that1 in some degree1 the sublime pleasure which we have in watching the branches of trees1 the intertwining of the grass1 and the tracery of the higher clouds1 is owing to it1 not less than that which we receive from the fine meshes of the robe1 the braiding of the hair1 and the various glittering of the linked net or wreathed chain4 ,byzantine ornamentation1 like that of almost all nations in a state of progress1 is full of this kind of work3 but it occurs most conspicuously1 though most simply1 in the minute traceries which surround their most solid capitals2 sometimes merely in a reticulated veil1 as in the tenth figure in the ,plate1 sometimes resembling a basket1 on the edges of which are perched birds and other animals4 ,the diamonded ornament in the eleventh figure is substituted for it in the ,casa ,loredan1 and marks a somewhat later time and a tendency to the ordinary ,gothic chequer2 but the capitals which show it most definitely are those already so often spoken of as the lily capitals of ,st4 ,mark's1 of which the northern one is carefully drawn in ,plate ,,ix4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,x4 ,,the ,,four ,,venetian ,,flower ,,orders4 ,,xxiv4 ,these capitals1 called barbarous by our architects1 are without exception the most subtle pieces of composition in broad contour which ,i have ever met with in architecture4 ,their profile is given in the opposite ,plate ,x4 fig4 #c1 b2 the inner line in the figure being that of the stone behind the lily1 the outer that of the external network1 taken through the side of the capital2 while fig4 #c1 c is the outer profile at its angle2 and the reader will easily understand that the passing of the one of these lines into the other is productive of the most exquisite and wonderful series of curvatures possible within such compass1 no two views of the capital giving the same contour4 ,upon these profoundly studied outlines1 as remarkable for their grace and complexity as the general mass of the capital is for solid strength and proportion to its necessary service1 the braided work is wrought with more than usual care2 perhaps1 as suggested by the ,marchese ,selvatico1 with some idea of imitating those nets of chequerwork and wreaths of chainwork on the chapiters of ,solomon's temple1 which are1 ,i suppose1 the first instances on record of an ornamentation of this kind thus applied4 ,the braided work encloses on each of the four sides of the capital a flower whose form1 derived from that of the lily1 though as usual modified1 in every instance of its occurrence1 in some minor particulars1 is generally seen as represented in fig4 #aa of ,plate ,,viii4 ,it is never without the two square or oblong objects at the extremity of the tendrils issuing from its root1 set like vessels to catch the dew from the points of its leaves2 but ,i do not understand their meaning4 ,the abacus of the capital has already been given at a1 ,plate ,,xvi41 ,vol4 ,i42 but no amount of illustrations or eulogium would be enough to make the reader understand the perfect beauty of the thing itself1 as the sun steals from interstice to interstice of its marble veil1 and touches with the white lustre of its rays at mid-day the pointed leaves of its thirsty lilies4 ,in all the capitals hitherto spoken of1 the form of the head of the bell has been square1 and its varieties of outline have been obtained in the transition from the square of the abacus to the circular outline of the shafts4 ,a far more complex series of forms results from the division of the bell by recesses into separate lobes or leaves1 like those of a rose or tulip1 which are each in their turn covered with flower-work or hollowed into reticulation4 ,the example 7fig4 #aj1 ,plate ,,vii47 from ,st4 ,mark's will give some idea of the simplest of these conditions3 perhaps the most exquisite in ,venice1 on the whole1 is the central capital of the upper arcade of the ,fondaco de' ,turchi4 ,such are the principal generic conditions of the ,byzantine capital2 but the reader must always remember that the examples given are single instances1 and those not the most beautiful but the most intelligible1 chosen out of thousands3 the designs of the capitals of ,st4 ,mark's alone would form a volume4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xi4 ,,byzantine ,,sculpture4 ,,xxv4 ,of the archivolts which these capitals generally sustain1 details are given in the ,appendix and in the notice of ,venetian doors in ,chapter ,,vii4 ,in the private palaces1 the ranges of archivolt are for the most part very simple1 with dentilled mouldings2 and all the ornamental effect is entrusted to pieces of sculpture set in the wall above or between the arches1 in the manner shown in ,plate ,,xv41 below1 ,chapter ,,vii4 ,these pieces of sculpture are either crosses1 upright oblongs1 or circles3 of all the three forms an example is given in ,plate ,,xi4 opposite4 ,the cross was apparently an invariable ornament1 placed either in the centre of the archivolt of the doorway1 or in the centre of the first story above the windows2 on each side of it the circular and oblong ornaments were used in various alternation4 ,in too many instances the wall marbles have been torn away from the earliest ,byzantine palaces1 so that the crosses are left on their archivolts only4 ,the best examples of the cross set above the windows are found in houses of the transitional period3 one in the ,campo ,sta ,m4 ,formosa2 another1 in which a cross is placed between every window1 is still well preserved in the ,campo ,sta ,maria ,mater ,domini2 another1 on the ,grand ,canal1 in the parish of the ,apostoli1 has two crosses1 one on each side of the first story1 and a bas-relief of ,christ enthroned in the centre2 and finally1 that from which the larger cross in the ,plate was taken in the house once belonging to ,marco ,polo1 at ,san ,giovanni ,grisostomo4 ,,xxvi4 ,this cross1 though graceful and rich1 and given because it happens to be one of the best preserved1 is uncharacteristic in one respect2 for1 instead of the central rose at the meeting of the arms1 we usually find a hand raised in the attitude of blessing1 between the sun and moon1 as in the two smaller crosses seen in the ,plate4 ,in nearly all representations of the ,crucifixion1 over the whole of ,europe1 at the period in question1 the sun and the moon are introduced1 one on each side of the cross1--the sun generally1 in paintings1 as a red star2 but ,i do not think with any purpose of indicating the darkness at the time of the agony2 especially because1 had this been the intention1 the moon ought not to have been visible1 since it could not have been in the heavens during the day at the time of passover4 ,i believe rather that the two luminaries are set there in order to express the entire dependence of the heavens and the earth upon the work of the ,redemption3 and this view is confirmed by our frequently finding the sun and moon set in the same manner beside the figure of ,christ1 as in the centre of the great archivolt of ,st4 ,mark's1 or beside the hand signifying benediction1 without any cross1 in some other early archivolts2#ej while1 again1 not unfrequently they are absent from the symbol of the cross itself1 and its saving power over the whole of creation is indicated only by fresh leaves springing from its foot1 or doves feeding beside it2 and so also1 in illuminated ,bibles1 we find the series of pictures representing the ,creation terminate in the ,crucifixion1 as the work by which all the families of created beings subsist1 no less than that in sympathy with which the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now4 ,,xxvii4 ,this habit of placing the symbol of the ,christian faith in the centres of their palaces was1 as ,i above said1 universal in early ,venice2 it does not cease till about the middle of the fourteenth century4 ,the other sculptures1 which were set above or between the arches1 consist almost invariably of groups of birds or beasts2 either standing opposite to each other with a small pillar or spray of leafage between them1 or else tearing and devouring each other4 ,the multitude of these sculptures1 especially of the small ones enclosed in circles1 as figs #e and #f1 ,plate ,,xi41 which are now scattered through the city of ,venice1 is enormous1 but they are seldom to be seen in their original positions4 ,when the ,byzantine palaces were destroyed1 these fragments were generally preserved1 and inserted again in the walls of the new buildings1 with more or less attempt at symmetry2 fragments of friezes and mouldings being often used in the same manner2 so that the mode of their original employment can only be seen in ,st4 ,mark's1 the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 ,braided ,house1 and one or two others4 ,the most remarkable point about them is1 that the groups of beasts or birds on each side of the small pillars bear the closest possible resemblance to the group of ,lions over the gate of ,mycen2 and the whole of the ornamentation of that gate1 as far as ,i can judge of it from drawings1 is so like ,byzantine sculpture1 that ,i cannot help sometimes suspecting the original conjecture of the ,french antiquarians1 that it was a work of the middle ages1 to be not altogether indefensible4 ,by far the best among the sculptures at ,venice are those consisting of groups thus arranged2 the first figure in ,plate ,,xi4 is one of those used on ,st4 ,mark's1 and1 with its chain of wreathen work round it1 is very characteristic of the finest kind1 except that the immediate trunk or pillar often branches into luxuriant leafage1 usually of the vine1 so that the whole ornament seems almost composed from the words of ,ezekiel4 ,a great eagle with great wings1 long-winged1 full of feathers1 which had divers colors1 came into ,lebanon1 and took the highest branch of the cedar3 ,he cropped off the top of his young twigs2 and carried it into a city of traffic2 he set it in a city of merchants4 ,he took also of the seed of the land1 444 and it grew1 and became a spreading vine of low stature1 whose branches turned towards him1 and the roots thereof were under him4 ,,xxviii4 ,the groups of contending and devouring animals are always much ruder in cutting1 and take somewhat the place in ,byzantine sculpture which the lower grotesques do in the ,gothic2 true1 though clumsy1 grotesques being sometimes mingled among them1 as four bodies joined to one head in the centre2#ea but never showing any attempt at variety of invention1 except only in the effective disposition of the light and shade1 and in the vigor and thoughtfulness of the touches which indicate the plumes of the birds or foldings of the leaves4 ,care1 however1 is always taken to secure variety enough to keep the eye entertained1 no two sides of these ,byzantine ornaments being in all respects the same3 for instance1 in the chainwork round the first figure in ,plate ,,xi4 there are two circles enclosing squares on the left-hand side of the arch at the top1 but two smaller circles and a diamond on the other1 enclosing one square1 and two small circular spots or bosses2 and in the line of chain at the bottom there is a circle on the right1 and a diamond on the left1 and so down to the working of the smallest details4 ,i have represented this upper sculpture as dark1 in order to give some idea of the general effect of these ornaments when seen in shadow against light2 an effect much calculated upon by the designer1 and obtained by the use of a golden ground formed of glass mosaic inserted in the hollows of the marble4 ,each square of glass has the leaf gold upon its surface protected by another thin film of glass above it1 so that no time or weather can affect its lustre1 until the pieces of glass are bodily torn from their setting4 ,the smooth glazed surface of the golden ground is washed by every shower of rain1 but the marble usually darkens into an amber color in process of time2 and when the whole ornament is cast into shadow1 the golden surface1 being perfectly reflective1 refuses the darkness1 and shows itself in bright and burnished light behind the dark traceries of the ornament4 ,where the marble has retained its perfect whiteness1 on the other hand1 and is seen in sunshine1 it is shown as a snowy tracery on a golden ground2 and the alternations and intermingling of these two effects form one of the chief enchantments of ,byzantine ornamentation4 ,,xxix4 ,how far the system of grounding with gold and color1 universal in ,st4 ,mark's1 was carried out in the sculptures of the private palaces1 it is now impossible to say4 ,the wrecks of them which remain1 as above noticed1 show few of their ornamental sculptures in their original position2 and from those marbles which were employed in succeeding buildings1 during the ,gothic period1 the fragments of their mosaic grounds would naturally rather have been removed than restored4 ,mosaic1 while the most secure of all decorations if carefully watched and refastened when it loosens1 may1 if neglected and exposed to weather1 in process of time disappear so as to leave no vestige of its existence4 ,however this may have been1 the assured facts are1 that both the shafts of the pillars and the facing of the old building were of veined or variously colored marble3 the capitals and sculptures were either1 as they now appear1 of pure white marble1 relieved upon the veined ground2 or1 which is infinitely the more probable1 grounded in the richer palaces with mosaic of gold1 in the inferior ones with blue color2 and only the leaves and edges of the sculpture gilded4 ,these brighter hues were opposed by bands of deeper color1 generally alternate russet and green1 in the archivolts1--bands which still remain in the ,casa ,loredan and ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 and in a house in the ,corte del ,remer1 near the ,rialto1 as well as in ,st4 ,mark's2 and by circular disks of green serpentine and porphyry1 which1 together with the circular sculptures1 appear to have been an ornament peculiarly grateful to the ,eastern mind1 derived probably in the first instance from the suspension of shields upon the wall1 as in the majesty of ancient ,tyre4 ,the men of ,arvad with thine army were upon thy walls round about1 and the ,gammadins were in thy towers3 they hanged their shields upon thy walls round about2 they have made thy beauty perfect4#eb ,the sweet and solemn harmony of purple with various green 7the same1 by the by1 to which the hills of ,scotland owe their best loveliness7 remained a favorite chord of color with the ,venetians1 and was constantly used even in the later palaces2 but never could have been seen in so great perfection as when opposed to the pale and delicate sculpture of the ,byzantine time4 ,,xxx4 ,such1 then1 was that first and fairest ,venice which rose out of the barrenness of the lagoon1 and the sorrow of her people2 a city of graceful arcades and gleaming walls1 veined with azure and warm with gold1 and fretted with white sculpture like frost upon forest branches turned to marble4 ,and yet1 in this beauty of her youth1 she was no city of thoughtless pleasure4 ,there was still a sadness of heart upon her1 and a depth of devotion1 in which lay all her strength4 ,i do not insist upon the probable religious signification of many of the sculptures which are now difficult of interpretation2 but the temper which made the cross the principal ornament of every building is not to be misunderstood1 nor can we fail to perceive1 in many of the minor sculptural subjects1 meanings perfectly familiar to the mind of early ,christianity4 ,the peacock1 used in preference to every other bird1 is the well-known symbol of the resurrection2 and when drinking from a fountain 7,plate ,,xi4 fig4 #a7 or from a font 7,plate ,,xi4 fig4 #e71 is1 ,i doubt not1 also a type of the new life received in faithful baptism4 ,the vine1 used in preference to all other trees1 was equally recognized as1 in all cases1 a type either of ,christ himself#ec or of those who were in a state of visible or professed union with him4 ,the dove1 at its foot1 represents the coming of the ,comforter2 and even the groups of contending animals had1 probably1 a distinct and universally apprehended reference to the powers of evil4 ,but ,i lay no stress on these more occult meanings4 ,the principal circumstance which marks the seriousness of the early ,venetian mind is perhaps the last in which the reader would suppose it was traceable2--that love of bright and pure color which1 in a modified form1 was afterwards the root of all the triumph of the ,venetian schools of painting1 but which1 in its utmost simplicity1 was characteristic of the ,byzantine period only2 and of which1 therefore1 in the close of our review of that period1 it will be well that we should truly estimate the significance4 ,the fact is1 we none of us enough appreciate the nobleness and sacredness of color4 ,nothing is more common than to hear it spoken of as a subordinate beauty1--nay1 even as the mere source of a sensual pleasure2 and we might almost believe that we were daily among men who ,could strip1 for aught the prospect yields ,to them1 their verdure from the fields2 ,and take the radiance from the clouds ,with which the sun his setting shrouds4 ,but it is not so4 ,such expressions are used for the most part in thoughtlessness2 and if the speakers would only take the pains to imagine what the world and their own existence would become1 if the blue were taken from the sky1 and the gold from the sunshine1 and the verdure from the leaves1 and the crimson from the blood which is the life of man1 the flush from the cheek1 the darkness from the eye1 the radiance from the hair1--if they could but see for an instant1 white human creatures living in a white world1--they would soon feel what they owe to color4 ,the fact is1 that1 of all ,god's gifts to the sight of man1 color is the holiest1 the most divine1 the most solemn4 ,we speak rashly of gay color1 and sad color1 for color cannot at once be good and gay4 ,all good color is in some degree pensive1 the loveliest is melancholy1 and the purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love color the most4 ,,xxxi4 ,i know that this will sound strange in many ears1 and will be especially startling to those who have considered the subject chiefly with reference to painting2 for the great ,venetian schools of color are not usually understood to be either pure or pensive1 and the idea of its pre-eminence is associated in nearly every mind with the coarseness of ,rubens1 and the sensualities of ,correggio and ,titian4 ,but a more comprehensive view of art will soon correct this impression4 ,it will be discovered1 in the first place1 that the more faithful and earnest the religion of the painter1 the more pure and prevalent is the system of his color4 ,it will be found1 in the second place1 that where color becomes a primal intention with a painter otherwise mean or sensual1 it instantly elevates him1 and becomes the one sacred and saving element in his work4 ,the very depth of the stoop to which the ,venetian painters and ,rubens sometimes condescend1 is a consequence of their feeling confidence in the power of their color to keep them from falling4 ,they hold on by it1 as by a chain let down from heaven1 with one hand1 though they may sometimes seem to gather dust and ashes with the other4 ,and1 in the last place1 it will be found that so surely as a painter is irreligious1 thoughtless1 or obscene in disposition1 so surely is his coloring cold1 gloomy1 and valueless4 ,the opposite poles of art in this respect are ,fr ,angelico and ,salvator ,rosa2 of whom the one was a man who smiled seldom1 wept often1 prayed constantly1 and never harbored an impure thought4 ,his pictures are simply so many pieces of jewellery1 the colors of the draperies being perfectly pure1 as various as those of a painted window1 chastened only by paleness1 and relieved upon a gold ground4 ,salvator was a dissipated jester and satirist1 a man who spent his life in masquing and revelry4 ,but his pictures are full of horror1 and their color is for the most part gloomy grey4 ,truly it would seem as if art had so much of eternity in it1 that it must take its dye from the close rather than the course of life3--,in such laughter the heart of man is sorrowful1 and the end of that mirth is heaviness4 ,,xxxii4 ,these are no singular instances4 ,i know no law more severely without exception than this of the connexion of pure color with profound and noble thought4 ,the late ,flemish pictures1 shallow in conception and obscene in subject1 are always sober in color4 ,but the early religious painting of the ,flemings is as brilliant in hue as it is holy in thought4 ,the ,bellinis1 ,francias1 ,peruginos painted in crimson1 and blue1 and gold4 ,the ,caraccis1 ,guidos1 and ,rembrandts in brown and grey4 ,the builders of our great cathedrals veiled their casements and wrapped their pillars with one robe of purple splendor4 ,the builders of the luxurious ,renaissance left their palaces filled only with cold white light1 and in the paleness of their native stone4#ed ,,xxxiii4 ,nor does it seem difficult to discern a noble reason for this universal law4 ,in that heavenly circle which binds the statutes of color upon the front of the sky1 when it became the sign of the covenant of peace1 the pure hues of divided light were sanctified to the human heart for ever2 nor this1 it would seem1 by mere arbitrary appointment1 but in consequence of the fore-ordained and marvellous constitution of those hues into a sevenfold1 or1 more strictly still1 a threefold order1 typical of the ,divine nature itself4 ,observe also1 the name ,shem1 or ,splendor1 given to that son of ,noah in whom this covenant with mankind was to be fulfilled1 and see how that name was justified by every one of the ,asiatic races which descended from him4 ,not without meaning was the love of ,israel to his chosen son expressed by the coat of many colors2 not without deep sense of the sacredness of that symbol of purity1 did the lost daughter of ,david tear it from her breast3--,with such robes were the king's daughters that were virgins apparelled4#ee ,we know it to have been by ,divine command that the ,israelite1 rescued from servitude1 veiled the tabernacle with its rain of purple and scarlet1 while the under sunshine flashed through the fall of the color from its tenons of gold3 but was it less by ,divine guidance that the ,mede1 as he struggled out of anarchy1 encompassed his king with the sevenfold burning of the battlements of ,ecbatana8--of which one circle was golden like the sun1 and another silver like the moon2 and then came the great sacred chord of color1 blue1 purple1 and scarlet2 and then a circle white like the day1 and another dark1 like night2 so that the city rose like a great mural rainbow1 a sign of peace amidst the contending of lawless races1 and guarded1 with color and shadow1 that seemed to symbolize the great order which rules over ,day1 and ,night1 and ,time1 the first organization of the mighty statutes1--the law of the ,medes and ,persians1 that altereth not4 ,,xxxiv4 ,let us not dream that it is owing to the accidents of tradition or education that those races possess the supremacy over color which has always been felt1 though but lately acknowledged among men4 ,however their dominion might be broken1 their virtue extinguished1 or their religion defiled1 they retained alike the instinct and the power3 the instinct which made even their idolatry more glorious than that of others1 bursting forth in fire-worship from pyramid1 cave1 and mountain1 taking the stars for the rulers of its fortune1 and the sun for the ,god of its life2 the power which so dazzled and subdued the rough crusader into forgetfulness of sorrow and of shame1 that ,europe put on the splendor which she had learnt of the ,saracen1 as her sackcloth of mourning for what she suffered from his sword2--the power which she confesses to this day1 in the utmost thoughtlessness of her pride1 or her beauty1 as it treads the costly carpet1 or veils itself with the variegated ,cachemire2 and in the emulation of the concourse of her workmen1 who1 but a few months back1 perceived1 or at least admitted1 for the first time1 the pre-eminence which has been determined from the birth of mankind1 and on whose charter ,nature herself has set a mysterious seal1 granting to the ,western races1 descended from that son of ,noah whose name was ,extension1 the treasures of the sullen rock1 and stubborn ore1 and gnarled forest1 which were to accomplish their destiny across all distance of earth and depth of sea1 while she matured the jewel in the sand1 and rounded the pearl in the shell1 to adorn the diadem of him whose name was ,splendor4 ,,xxxv4 ,and observe1 farther1 how in the ,oriental mind a peculiar seriousness is associated with this attribute of the love of color2 a seriousness rising out of repose1 and out of the depth and breadth of the imagination1 as contrasted with the activity1 and consequent capability of surprise1 and of laughter1 characteristic of the ,western mind3 as a man on a journey must look to his steps always1 and view things narrowly and quickly2 while one at rest may command a wider view1 though an unchanging one1 from which the pleasure he receives must be one of contemplation1 rather than of amusement or surprise4 ,wherever the pure ,oriental spirit manifests itself definitely1 ,i believe its work is serious2 and the meeting of the influences of the ,eastern and ,western races is perhaps marked in ,europe more by the dying away of the grotesque laughter of the ,goth than by any other sign4 ,i shall have more to say on this head in other places of this volume2 but the point ,i wish at present to impress upon the reader is1 that the bright hues of the early architecture of ,venice were no sign of gaiety of heart1 and that the investiture with the mantle of many colors by which she is known above all other cities of ,italy and of ,europe1 was not granted to her in the fever of her festivity1 but in the solemnity of her early and earnest religion4 ,she became in after times the revel of the earth1 the masque of ,italy2 and therefore is she now desolate3 but her glorious robe of gold and purple was given her when first she rose a vestal from the sea1 not when she became drunk with the wine of her fornication4 ,,xxxvi4 ,and we have never yet looked with enough reverence upon the separate gift which was thus bestowed upon her2 we have never enough considered what an inheritance she has left us1 in the works of those mighty painters who were the chief of her children4 ,that inheritance is indeed less than it ought to have been1 and other than it ought to have been2 for before ,titian and ,tintoret arose1--the men in whom her work and her glory should have been together consummated1--she had already ceased to lead her sons in the way of truth and life1 and they erred much1 and fell short of that which was appointed for them4 ,there is no subject of thought more melancholy1 more wonderful1 than the way in which ,god permits so often ,his best gifts to be trodden under foot of men1 ,his richest treasures to be wasted by the moth1 and the mightiest influences of ,his ,spirit1 given but once in the world's history1 to be quenched and shortened by miseries of chance and guilt4 ,i do not wonder at what men ,suffer1 but ,i wonder often at what they ,lose4 ,we may see how good rises out of pain and evil2 but the dead1 naked1 eyeless loss1 what good comes of that8 ,the fruit struck to the earth before its ripeness2 the glowing life and goodly purpose dissolved away in sudden death2 the words1 half spoken1 choked upon the lips with clay for ever2 or1 stranger than all1 the whole majesty of humanity raised to its fulness1 and every gift and power necessary for a given purpose1 at a given moment1 centred in one man1 and all this perfected blessing permitted to be refused1 perverted1 crushed1 cast aside by those who need it most1--the city which is ,not set on a hill1 the candle that giveth light to ,none that are in the house3--these are the heaviest mysteries of this strange world1 and1 it seems to me1 those which mark its curse the most4 ,and it is true that the power with which this ,venice had been entrusted1 was perverted1 when at its highest1 in a thousand miserable ways2 still1 it was possessed by her alone2 to her all hearts have turned which could be moved by its manifestation1 and none without being made stronger and nobler by what her hand had wrought4 ,that mighty ,landscape1 of dark mountains that guard the horizon with their purple towers1 and solemn forests1 that gather their weight of leaves1 bronzed with sunshine1 not with age1 into those gloomy masses fixed in heaven1 which storm and frost have power no more to shake1 or shed2--that mighty ,humanity1 so perfect and so proud1 that hides no weakness beneath the mantle1 and gains no greatness from the diadem2 the majesty of thoughtful form1 on which the dust of gold and flame of jewels are dashed as the sea-spray upon the rock1 and still the great ,manhood seems to stand bare against the blue sky2--that mighty ,mythology1 which fills the daily walks of men with spiritual companionship1 and beholds the protecting angels break with their burning presence through the arrow-flights of battle3--measure the compass of that field of creation1 weigh the value of the inheritance that ,venice thus left to the nations of ,europe1 and then judge if so vast1 so beneficent a power could indeed have been rooted in dissipation or decay4 ,it was when she wore the ephod of the priest1 not the motley of the masquer1 that the fire fell upon her from heaven2 and she saw the first rays of it through the rain of her own tears1 when1 as the barbaric deluge ebbed from the hills of ,italy1 the circuit of her palaces1 and the orb of her fortunes1 rose together1 like the ,iris1 painted upon the ,cloud4 ,,footnotes #da ,in the year #ahea1 by the ,duchesse de ,berri4 #db ,of the ,braided ,house and ,casa ,businello1 described in the ,appendix1 only the great central arcades remain4 #dc ,only one wing of the first story is left4 ,see ,appendix #aa4 #dd ,i am obliged to give these measures approximately1 because1 this front having been studied by the builder with unusual care1 not one of its measures is the same as another2 and the symmetries between the correspondent arches are obtained by changes in the depth of their mouldings and variations in their heights1 far too complicated for me to enter into here2 so that of the two arches stated as #ai ft4 #h in4 in span1 one is in reality #ai ft4 #f in41 the other #ai ft4 #aj in41 and of the two stated as #bj ft4 #d in41 one is #bj ft4 and the other #bj ft4 #h in4 #de ,by ,mr4 ,penrose4 #df ,i am sometimes obliged1 unfortunately1 to read my woodcuts backwards owing to my having forgotten to reverse them on the wood4 #dg ,vide ,plate ,x4 figs4 #a and #d4 #dh #a4 ,fondaco de' ,turehi1 lateral #h4 ,st4 ,mark's4 pillars4 #i4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #b4 ,terraced ,house1 lateral pillars4 #aj4 ,braided ,house1 upper arcade4 #c4 ,casa ,farsetti1 central pillars1 #aa4 ,casa ,loredan1 upper arcade4 upper arcade4 #ab4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #d4 ,casa ,loredan1 lower arcade4 #ac4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #e4 ,casa ,loredan1 lower arcade4 #ad4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 upper #f4 ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 upper arcade4 arcade4 #g4 ,casa ,loredan1 upper arcade4 #ae4 ,st4 ,mark's4 #di ,compare ,seven ,lamps1 chap4 ii4 #bb4 #ej ,two of these are represented in the second number of my folio work upon ,venice4 #ea ,the absence of the true grotesque spirit in ,byzantine work will be examined in the third chapter of the third volume4 #eb ,ezekiel1 xxvii4 #aa4 #ec ,perhaps this type is in no place of ,scripture more touchingly used than in ,lamentations1 i4 #ab1 where the word afflicted is rendered in the ,vulgate vindemiavit1 vintaged4 #ed ,appendix #ab1 ,modern ,painting on ,glass4 #ee #b ,samuel1 xiii4 #ah4 ,,second1 ,,or ,,gothic1 ,,period4 ,,chapter ,,vi4 ,,the ,,nature ,,of ,,gothic4 ,i4 ,if the reader will look back to the division of our subject which was made in the first chapter of the first volume1 he will find that we are now about to enter upon the examination of that school of ,venetian architecture which forms an intermediate step between the ,byzantine and ,gothic forms2 but which ,i find may be conveniently considered in its connexion with the latter style4 ,in order that we may discern the tendency of each step of this change1 it will be wise in the outset to endeavor to form some general idea of its final result4 ,we know already what the ,byzantine architecture is from which the transition was made1 but we ought to know something of the ,gothic architecture into which it led4 ,i shall endeavor therefore to give the reader in this chapter an idea1 at once broad and definite1 of the true nature of ,gothic architecture1 properly so called2 not of that of ,venice only1 but of universal ,gothic3 for it will be one of the most interesting parts of our subsequent inquiry1 to find out how far ,venetian architecture reached the universal or perfect type of ,gothic1 and how far it either fell short of it1 or assumed foreign and independent forms4 ,,ii4 ,the principal difficulty in doing this arises from the fact that every building of the ,gothic period differs in some important respect from every other2 and many include features which1 if they occurred in other buildings1 would not be considered ,gothic at all2 so that all we have to reason upon is merely1 if ,i may be allowed so to express it1 a greater or less degree of ,gothicness in each building we examine4 ,and it is this ,gothicness1--the character which1 according as it is found more or less in a building1 makes it more or less ,gothic1--of which ,i want to define the nature2 and ,i feel the same kind of difficulty in doing so which would be encountered by any one who undertook to explain1 for instance1 the nature of ,redness1 without any actual red thing to point to1 but only orange and purple things4 ,suppose he had only a piece of heather and a dead oak-leaf to do it with4 ,he might say1 the color which is mixed with the yellow in this oak-leaf1 and with the blue in this heather1 would be red1 if you had it separate2 but it would be difficult1 nevertheless1 to make the abstraction perfectly intelligible3 and it is so in a far greater degree to make the abstraction of the ,gothic character intelligible1 because that character itself is made up of many mingled ideas1 and can consist only in their union4 ,that is to say1 pointed arches do not constitute ,gothic1 nor vaulted roofs1 nor flying buttresses1 nor grotesque sculptures2 but all or some of these things1 and many other things with them1 when they come together so as to have life4 ,,iii4 ,observe also1 that1 in the definition proposed1 ,i shall only endeavor to analyze the idea which ,i suppose already to exist in the reader's mind4 ,we all have some notion1 most of us a very determined one1 of the meaning of the term ,gothic2 but ,i know that many persons have this idea in their minds without being able to define it3 that is to say1 understanding generally that ,westminster ,abbey is ,gothic1 and ,st4 ,paul's is not1 that ,strasburg ,cathedral is ,gothic1 and ,st4 ,peter's is not1 they have1 nevertheless1 no clear notion of what it is that they recognize in the one or miss in the other1 such as would enable them to say how far the work at ,westminster or ,strasburg is good and pure of its kind3 still less to say of any non-descript building1 like ,st4 ,james's ,palace or ,windsor ,castle1 how much right ,gothic element there is in it1 and how much wanting1 ,and ,i believe this inquiry to be a pleasant and profitable one2 and that there will be found something more than usually interesting in tracing out this grey1 shadowy1 many-pinnacled image of the ,gothic spirit within us2 and discerning what fellowship there is between it and our ,northern hearts4 ,and if1 at any point of the inquiry1 ,i should interfere with any of the reader's previously formed conceptions1 and use the term ,gothic in any sense which he would not willingly attach to it1 ,i do not ask him to accept1 but only to examine and understand1 my interpretation1 as necessary to the intelligibility of what follows in the rest of the work4 ,,iv4 ,we have1 then1 the ,gothic character submitted to our analysis1 just as the rough mineral is submitted to that of the chemist1 entangled with many other foreign substances1 itself perhaps in no place pure1 or ever to be obtained or seen in purity for more than an instant2 but nevertheless a thing of definite and separate nature1 however inextricable or confused in appearance4 ,now observe3 the chemist defines his mineral by two separate kinds of character2 one external1 its crystalline form1 hardness1 lustre1 c42 the other internal1 the proportions and nature of its constituent atoms4 ,exactly in the same manner1 we shall find that ,gothic architecture has external forms1 and internal elements4 ,its elements are certain mental tendencies of the builders1 legibly expressed in it2 as fancifulness1 love of variety1 love of richness1 and such others4 ,its external forms are pointed arches1 vaulted roofs1 c4 ,and unless both the elements and the forms are there1 we have no right to call the style ,gothic4 ,it is not enough that it has the ,form1 if it have not also the power and life4 ,it is not enough that it has the ,power1 if it have not the form4 ,we must therefore inquire into each of these characters successively2 and determine first1 what is the ,mental ,expression1 and secondly1 what the ,material ,form1 of ,gothic architecture1 properly so called4 #ast4 ,mental ,power or ,expression4 ,what characters1 we have to discover1 did the ,gothic builders love1 or instinctively express in their work1 as distinguished from all other builders8 ,v4 ,let us go back for a moment to our chemistry1 and note that1 in defining a mineral by its constituent parts1 it is not one nor another of them1 that can make up the mineral1 but the union of all3 for instance1 it is neither in charcoal1 nor in oxygen1 nor in lime1 that there is the making of chalk1 but in the combination of all three in certain measures2 they are all found in very different things from chalk1 and there is nothing like chalk either in charcoal or in oxygen1 but they are nevertheless necessary to its existence4 ,so in the various mental characters which make up the soul of ,gothic4 ,it is not one nor another that produces it2 but their union in certain measures4 ,each one of them is found in many other architectures besides ,gothic2 but ,gothic cannot exist where they are not found1 or1 at least1 where their place is not in some way supplied4 ,only there is this great difference between the composition of the mineral1 and of the architectural style1 that if we withdraw one of its elements from the stone1 its form is utterly changed1 and its existence as such and such a mineral is destroyed2 but if we withdraw one of its mental elements from the ,gothic style1 it is only a little less ,gothic than it was before1 and the union of two or three of its elements is enough already to bestow a certain ,gothicness of character1 which gains in intensity as we add the others1 and loses as we again withdraw them4 ,,vi4 ,i believe1 then1 that the characteristic or moral elements of ,gothic are the following1 placed in the order of their importance3 #a4 ,savageness4 #b4 ,changefulness4 #c4 ,naturalism4 #d4 ,grotesqueness4 #e4 ,rigidity4 #f4 ,redundance4 ,these characters are here expressed as belonging to the building2 as belonging to the builder1 they would be expressed thus3--#a4 ,savageness1 or ,rudeness4 #b4 ,love of ,change4 #c4 ,love of ,nature4 #d4 ,disturbed ,imagination4 #e1 ,obstinacy4 #f4 ,generosity4 ,and ,i repeat1 that the withdrawal of any one1 or any two1 will not at once destroy the ,gothic character of a building1 but the removal of a majority of them will4 ,i shall proceed to examine them in their order4 ,,vii4 #a4 ,,savageness4 ,i am not sure when the word ,gothic was first generically applied to the architecture of the ,north2 but ,i presume that1 whatever the date of its original usage1 it was intended to imply reproach1 and express the barbaric character of the nations among whom that architecture arose4 ,it never implied that they were literally of ,gothic lineage1 far less that their architecture had been originally invented by the ,goths themselves2 but it did imply that they and their buildings together exhibited a degree of sternness and rudeness1 which1 in contradistinction to the character of ,southern and ,eastern nations1 appeared like a perpetual reflection of the contrast between the ,goth and the ,roman in their first encounter4 ,and when that fallen ,roman1 in the utmost impotence of his luxury1 and insolence of his guilt1 became the model for the imitation of civilized ,europe1 at the close of the so-called ,dark ages1 the word ,gothic became a term of unmitigated contempt1 not unmixed with aversion4 ,from that contempt1 by the exertion of the antiquaries and architects of this century1 ,gothic architecture has been sufficiently vindicated2 and perhaps some among us1 in our admiration of the magnificent science of its structure1 and sacredness of its expression1 might desire that the term of ancient reproach should be withdrawn1 and some other1 of more apparent honorableness1 adopted in its place4 ,there is no chance1 as there is no need1 of such a substitution4 ,as far as the epithet was used scornfully1 it was used falsely2 but there is no reproach in the word1 rightly understood2 on the contrary1 there is a profound truth1 which the instinct of mankind almost unconsciously recognizes4 ,it is true1 greatly and deeply true1 that the architecture of the ,north is rude and wild2 but it is not true1 that1 for this reason1 we are to condemn it1 or despise4 ,far otherwise3 ,i believe it is in this very character that it deserves our profoundest reverence4 ,,viii4 ,the charts of the world which have been drawn up by modern science have thrown into a narrow space the expression of a vast amount of knowledge1 but ,i have never yet seen any one pictorial enough to enable the spectator to imagine the kind of contrast in physical character which exists between ,northern and ,southern countries4 ,we know the differences in detail1 but we have not that broad glance and grasp which would enable us to feel them in their fulness4 ,we know that gentians grow on the ,alps1 and olives on the ,apennines2 but we do not enough conceive for ourselves that variegated mosaic of the world's surface which a bird sees in its migration1 that difference between the district of the gentian and of the olive which the stork and the swallow see far off1 as they lean upon the sirocco wind4 ,let us1 for a moment1 try to raise ourselves even above the level of their flight1 and imagine the ,mediterranean lying beneath us like an irregular lake1 and all its ancient promontories sleeping in the sun3 here and there an angry spot of thunder1 a grey stain of storm1 moving upon the burning field2 and here and there a fixed wreath of white volcano smoke1 surrounded by its circle of ashes2 but for the most part a great peacefulness of light1 ,syria and ,greece1 ,italy and ,spain1 laid like pieces of a golden pavement into the sea-blue1 chased1 as we stoop nearer to them1 with bossy beaten work of mountain chains1 and glowing softly with terraced gardens1 and flowers heavy with frankincense1 mixed among masses of laurel1 and orange and plumy palm1 that abate with their grey-green shadows the burning of the marble rocks1 and of the ledges of porphyry sloping under lucent sand4 ,then let us pass farther towards the north1 until we see the orient colors change gradually into a vast belt of rainy green1 where the pastures of ,switzerland1 and poplar valleys of ,france1 and dark forests of the ,danube and ,carpathians stretch from the mouths of the ,loire to those of the ,volga1 seen through clefts in grey swirls of rain-cloud and flaky veils of the mist of the brooks1 spreading low along the pasture lands3 and then1 farther north still1 to see the earth heave into mighty masses of leaden rock and heathy moor1 bordering with a broad waste of gloomy purple that belt of field and wood1 and splintering into irregular and grisly islands amidst the northern seas1 beaten by storm and chilled by ice-drift1 and tormented by furious pulses of contending tide1 until the roots of the last forests fail from among the hill ravines1 and the hunger of the north wind bites their peaks into barrenness2 and1 at last1 the wall of ice1 durable like iron1 sets1 deathlike1 its white teeth against us out of the polar twilight4 ,and1 having once traversed in thought its gradation of the zoned iris of the earth in all its material vastness1 let us go down nearer to it1 and watch the parallel change in the belt of animal life3 the multitudes of swift and brilliant creatures that glance in the air and sea1 or tread the sands of the southern zone2 striped zebras and spotted leopards1 glistening serpents1 and birds arrayed in purple and scarlet4 ,let us contrast their delicacy and brilliancy of color1 and swiftness of motion1 with the frost-cramped strength1 and shaggy covering1 and dusky plumage of the northern tribes2 contrast the ,arabian horse with the ,shetland1 the tiger and leopard with the wolf and bear1 the antelope with the elk1 the bird of paradise with the osprey3 and then1 submissively acknowledging the great laws by which the earth and all that it bears are ruled throughout their being1 let us not condemn1 but rejoice at the expression by man of his own rest in the statutes of the lands that gave him birth4 ,let us watch him with reverence as he sets side by side the burning gems1 and smoothes with soft sculpture the jasper pillars1 that are to reflect a ceaseless sunshine1 and rise into a cloudless sky3 but not with less reverence let us stand by him1 when1 with rough strength and hurried stroke1 he smites an uncouth animation out of the rocks which he has torn from among the moss of the moorland1 and heaves into the darkened air the pile of iron buttress and rugged wall1 instinct with work of an imagination as wild and wayward as the northern sea2 creations of ungainly shape and rigid limb1 but full of wolfish life2 fierce as the winds that beat1 and changeful as the clouds that shade them4 ,there is1 ,i repeat1 no degradation1 no reproach in this1 but all dignity and honorableness2 and we should err grievously in refusing either to recognise as an essential character of the existing architecture of the ,north1 or to admit as a desirable character in that which it yet may be1 this wildness of thought1 and roughness of work2 this look of mountain brotherhood between the cathedral and the ,alp2 this magnificence of sturdy power1 put forth only the more energetically because the fine finger-touch was chilled away by the frosty wind1 and the eye dimmed by the moor-mist1 or blinded by the hail2 this outspeaking of the strong spirit of men who may not gather redundant fruitage from the earth1 nor bask in dreamy benignity of sunshine1 but must break the rock for bread1 and cleave the forest for fire1 and show1 even in what they did for their delight1 some of the hard habits of the arm and heart that grew on them as they swung the axe or pressed the plough4 ,,ix4 ,if1 however1 the savageness of ,gothic architecture1 merely as an expression of its origin among ,northern nations1 may be considered1 in some sort1 a noble character1 it possesses a higher nobility still1 when considered as an index1 not of climate1 but of religious principle4 ,in the #acth and #adth paragraphs of ,chapter ,,xxi4 of the first volume of this work1 it was noticed that the systems of architectural ornament1 properly so called1 might be divided into three3--#a4 ,servile ornament1 in which the execution or power of the inferior workman is entirely subjected to the intellect of the higher3--#b4 ,constitutional ornament1 in which the executive inferior power is1 to a certain point1 emancipated and independent1 having a will of its own1 yet confessing its inferiority and rendering obedience to higher powers2--and #c4 ,revolutionary ornament1 in which no executive inferiority is admitted at all4 ,i must here explain the nature of these divisions at somewhat greater length4 ,of ,servile ornament1 the principal schools are the ,greek1 ,ninevite1 and ,egyptian2 but their servility is of different kinds4 ,the ,greek master-workman was far advanced in knowledge and power above the ,assyrian or ,egyptian4 ,neither he nor those for whom he worked could endure the appearance of imperfection in anything2 and1 therefore1 what ornament he appointed to be done by those beneath him was composed of mere geometrical forms1--balls1 ridges1 and perfectly symmetrical foliage1--which could be executed with absolute precision by line and rule1 and were as perfect in their way when completed1 as his own figure sculpture4 ,the ,assyrian and ,egyptian1 on the contrary1 less cognizant of accurate form in anything1 were content to allow their figure sculpture to be executed by inferior workmen1 but lowered the method of its treatment to a standard which every workman could reach1 and then trained him by discipline so rigid1 that there was no chance of his falling beneath the standard appointed4 ,the ,greek gave to the lower workman no subject which he could not perfectly execute4 ,the ,assyrian gave him subjects which he could only execute imperfectly1 but fixed a legal standard for his imperfection4 ,the workman was1 in both systems1 a slave4#ef ,x4 ,but in the medival1 or especially ,christian1 system of ornament1 this slavery is done away with altogether2 ,christianity having recognized1 in small things as well as great1 the individual value of every soul4 ,but it not only recognizes its value2 it confesses its imperfection1 in only bestowing dignity upon the acknowledgment of unworthiness4 ,that admission of lost power and fallen nature1 which the ,greek or ,ninevite felt to be intensely painful1 and1 as far as might be1 altogether refused1 the ,christian makes daily and hourly1 contemplating the fact of it without fear1 as tending1 in the end1 to ,god's greater glory4 ,therefore1 to every spirit which ,christianity summons to her service1 her exhortation is3 ,do what you can1 and confess frankly what you are unable to do2 neither let your effort be shortened for fear of failure1 nor your confession silenced for fear of shame4 ,and it is1 perhaps1 the principal admirableness of the ,gothic schools of architecture1 that they thus receive the results of the labor of inferior minds2 and out of fragments full of imperfection1 and betraying that imperfection in every touch1 indulgently raise up a stately and unaccusable whole4 ,,xi4 ,but the modern ,english mind has this much in common with that of the ,greek1 that it intensely desires1 in all things1 the utmost completion or perfection compatible with their nature4 ,this is a noble character in the abstract1 but becomes ignoble when it causes us to forget the relative dignities of that nature itself1 and to prefer the perfectness of the lower nature to the imperfection of the higher2 not considering that as1 judged by such a rule1 all the brute animals would be preferable to man1 because more perfect in their functions and kind1 and yet are always held inferior to him1 so also in the works of man1 those which are more perfect in their kind are always inferior to those which are1 in their nature1 liable to more faults and shortcomings4 ,for the finer the nature1 the more flaws it will show through the clearness of it2 and it is a law of this universe1 that the best things shall be seldomest seen in their best form4 ,the wild grass grows well and strongly1 one year with another2 but the wheat is1 according to the greater nobleness of its nature1 liable to the bitterer blight4 ,and therefore1 while in all things that we see1 or do1 we are to desire perfection1 and strive for it1 we are nevertheless not to set the meaner thing1 in its narrow accomplishment1 above the nobler thing1 in its mighty progress2 not to esteem smooth minuteness above shattered majesty2 not to prefer mean victory to honorable defeat2 not to lower the level of our aim1 that we may the more surely enjoy the complacency of success4 ,but1 above all1 in our dealings with the souls of other men1 we are to take care how we check1 by severe requirement or narrow caution1 efforts which might otherwise lead to a noble issue2 and1 still more1 how we withhold our admiration from great excellences1 because they are mingled with rough faults4 ,now1 in the make and nature of every man1 however rude or simple1 whom we employ in manual labor1 there are some powers for better things3 some tardy imagination1 torpid capacity of emotion1 tottering steps of thought1 there are1 even at the worst2 and in most cases it is all our own fault that they are tardy or torpid4 ,but they cannot be strengthened1 unless we are content to take them in their feebleness1 and unless we prize and honor them in their imperfection above the best and most perfect manual skill4 ,and this is what we have to do with all our laborers2 to look for the thoughtful part of them1 and get that out of them1 whatever we lose for it1 whatever faults and errors we are obliged to take with it4 ,for the best that is in them cannot manifest itself1 but in company with much error4 ,understand this clearly3 ,you can teach a man to draw a straight line1 and to cut one2 to strike a curved line1 and to carve it2 and to copy and carve any number of given lines or forms1 with admirable speed and perfect precision2 and you find his work perfect of its kind3 but if you ask him to think about any of those forms1 to consider if he cannot find any better in his own head1 he stops2 his execution becomes hesitating2 he thinks1 and ten to one he thinks wrong2 ten to one he makes a mistake in the first touch he gives to his work as a thinking being4 ,but you have made a man of him for all that4 ,he was only a machine before1 an animated tool4 ,,xii4 ,and observe1 you are put to stern choice in this matter4 ,you must either made a tool of the creature1 or a man of him4 ,you cannot make both4 ,men were not intended to work with the accuracy of tools1 to be precise and perfect in all their actions4 ,if you will have that precision out of them1 and make their fingers measure degrees like cog-wheels1 and their arms strike curves like compasses1 you must unhumanize them4 ,all the energy of their spirits must be given to make cogs and compasses of themselves4 ,all their attention and strength must go to the accomplishment of the mean act4 ,the eye of the soul must be bent upon the finger-point1 and the soul's force must fill all the invisible nerves that guide it1 ten hours a day1 that it may not err from its steely precision1 and so soul and sight be worn away1 and the whole human being be lost at last--a heap of sawdust1 so far as its intellectual work in this world is concerned2 saved only by its ,heart1 which cannot go into the form of cogs and compasses1 but expands1 after the ten hours are over1 into fireside humanity4 ,on the other hand1 if you will make a man of the working creature1 you cannot make a tool4 ,let him but begin to imagine1 to think1 to try to do anything worth doing2 and the engine-turned precision is lost at once4 ,out come all his roughness1 all his dulness1 all his incapability2 shame upon shame1 failure upon failure1 pause after pause3 but out comes the whole majesty of him also2 and we know the height of it only1 when we see the clouds settling upon him4 ,and1 whether the clouds be bright or dark1 there will be transfiguration behind and within them4 ,,xiii4 ,and now1 reader1 look round this ,english room of yours1 about which you have been proud so often1 because the work of it was so good and strong1 and the ornaments of it so finished4 ,examine again all those accurate mouldings1 and perfect polishings1 and unerring adjustments of the seasoned wood and tempered steel4 ,many a time you have exulted over them1 and thought how great ,england was1 because her slightest work was done so thoroughly4 ,alas6 if read rightly1 these perfectnesses are signs of a slavery in our ,england a thousand times more bitter and more degrading than that of the scourged ,african1 or helot ,greek4 ,men may be beaten1 chained1 tormented1 yoked like cattle1 slaughtered like summer flies1 and yet remain in one sense1 and the best sense1 free4 ,but to smother their souls within them1 to blight and hew into rotting pollards the suckling branches of their human intelligence1 to make the flesh and skin which1 after the worm's work on it1 is to see ,god1 into leathern thongs to yoke machinery with1--this it is to be slave-masters indeed2 and there might be more freedom in ,england1 though her feudal lords' lightest words were worth men's lives1 and though the blood of the vexed husbandman dropped in the furrows of her fields1 than there is while the animation of her multitudes is sent like fuel to feed the factory smoke1 and the strength of them is given daily to be wasted into the fineness of a web1 or racked into the exactness of a line4 ,,xiv4 ,and1 on the other hand1 go forth again to gaze upon the old cathedral front1 where you have smiled so often at the fantastic ignorance of the old sculptors3 examine once more those ugly goblins1 and formless monsters1 and stern statues1 anatomiless and rigid2 but do not mock at them1 for they are signs of the life and liberty of every workman who struck the stone2 a freedom of thought1 and rank in scale of being1 such as no laws1 no charters1 no charities can secure2 but which it must be the first aim of all ,europe at this day to regain for her children4 ,,xv4 ,let me not be thought to speak wildly or extravagantly4 ,it is verily this degradation of the operative into a machine1 which1 more than any other evil of the times1 is leading the mass of the nations everywhere into vain1 incoherent1 destructive struggling for a freedom of which they cannot explain the nature to themselves4 ,their universal outcry against wealth1 and against nobility1 is not forced from them either by the pressure of famine1 or the sting of mortified pride4 ,these do much1 and have done much in all ages2 but the foundations of society were never yet shaken as they are at this day4 ,it is not that men are ill fed1 but that they have no pleasure in the work by which they make their bread1 and therefore look to wealth as the only means of pleasure4 ,it is not that men are pained by the scorn of the upper classes1 but they cannot endure their own2 for they feel that the kind of labor to which they are condemned is verily a degrading one1 and makes them less than men4 ,never had the upper classes so much sympathy with the lower1 or charity for them1 as they have at this day1 and yet never were they so much hated by them3 for1 of old1 the separation between the noble and the poor was merely a wall built by law2 now it is a veritable difference in level of standing1 a precipice between upper and lower grounds in the field of humanity and there is pestilential air at the bottom of it4 ,i know not if a day is ever to come when the nature of right freedom will be understood1 and when men will see that to obey another man1 to labor for him1 yield reverence to him or to his place1 is not slavery4 ,it is often the best kind of liberty1--liberty from care4 ,the man who says to one1 ,go1 and he goeth1 and to another1 ,come1 and he cometh1 has1 in most cases1 more sense of restraint and difficulty than the man who obeys him4 ,the movements of the one are hindered by the burden on his shoulder2 of the other1 by the bridle on his lips3 there is no way by which the burden may be lightened2 but we need not suffer from the bridle if we do not champ at it4 ,to yield reverence to another1 to hold ourselves and our lives at his disposal1 is not slavery2 often1 it is the noblest state in which a man can live in this world4 ,there is1 indeed1 a reverence which is servile1 that is to say1 irrational or selfish3 but there is also noble reverence1 that is to say1 reasonable and loving2 and a man is never so noble as when he is reverent in this kind2 nay1 even if the feeling pass the bounds of mere reason1 so that it be loving1 a man is raised by it4 ,which had1 in reality1 most of the serf nature in him1--the ,irish peasant who was lying in wait yesterday for his landlord1 with his musket muzzle thrust through the ragged hedge2 or that old mountain servant1 who1 #bjj years ago1 at ,inverkeithing1 gave up his own life and the lives of his seven sons for his chief8#eg--;and as each fell1 calling forth his brother to the death1 ,another for ,hector6 ,and therefore1 in all ages and all countries1 reverence has been paid and sacrifice made by men to each other1 not only without complaint1 but rejoicingly2 and famine1 and peril1 and sword1 and all evil1 and all shame1 have been borne willingly in the causes of masters and kings2 for all these gifts of the heart ennobled the men who gave1 not less than the men who received them1 and nature prompted1 and ,god rewarded the sacrifice4 ,but to feel their souls withering within them1 unthanked1 to find their whole being sunk into an unrecognized abyss1 to be counted off into a heap of mechanism1 numbered with its wheels1 and weighed with its hammer strokes2--this nature bade not1--this ,god blesses not1--this humanity for no long time is able to endure4 ,,xvi4 ,we have much studied and much perfected1 of late1 the great civilized invention of the division of labor2 only we give it a false name4 ,it is not1 truly speaking1 the labor that is divided2 but the men3--,divided into mere segments of men--broken into small fragments and crumbs of life2 so that all the little piece of intelligence that is left in a man is not enough to make a pin1 or a nail1 but exhausts itself in making the point of a pin1 or the head of a nail4 ,now it is a good and desirable thing1 truly1 to make many pins in a day2 but if we could only see with what crystal sand their points were polished1--sand of human soul1 much to be magnified before it can be discerned for what it is1--we should think there might be some loss in it also4 ,and the great cry that rises from all our manufacturing cities1 louder than their furnace blast1 is all in very deed for this1--that we manufacture everything there except men2 we blanch cotton1 and strengthen steel1 and refine sugar1 and shape pottery2 but to brighten1 to strengthen1 to refine1 or to form a single living spirit1 never enters into our estimate of advantages4 ,and all the evil to which that cry is urging our myriads can be met only in one way3 not by teaching nor preaching1 for to teach them is but to show them their misery1 and to preach to them1 if we do nothing more than preach1 is to mock at it4 ,it can be met only by a right understanding1 on the part of all classes1 of what kinds of labor are good for men1 raising them1 and making them happy2 by a determined sacrifice of such convenience1 or beauty1 or cheapness as is to be got only by the degradation of the workman2 and by equally determined demand for the products and results of healthy and ennobling labor4 ,,xvii4 ,and how1 it will be asked1 are these products to be recognized1 and this demand to be regulated8 ,easily3 by the observance of three broad and simple rules3 #a4 ,never encourage the manufacture of any article not absolutely necessary1 in the production of which ,invention has no share4 #b4 ,never demand an exact finish for its own sake1 but only for some practical or noble end4 #c4 ,never encourage imitation or copying of any kind1 except for the sake of preserving record of great works4 ,the second of these principles is the only one which directly rises out of the consideration of our immediate subject2 but ,i shall briefly explain the meaning and extent of the first also1 reserving the enforcement of the third for another place4 #a4 ,never encourage the manufacture of anything not necessary1 in the production of which invention has no share4 ,for instance4 ,glass beads are utterly unnecessary1 and there is no design or thought employed in their manufacture4 ,they are formed by first drawing out the glass into rods2 these rods are chopped up into fragments of the size of beads by the human hand1 and the fragments are then rounded in the furnace4 ,the men who chop up the rods sit at their work all day1 their hands vibrating with a perpetual and exquisitely timed palsy1 and the beads dropping beneath their vibration like hail4 ,neither they1 nor the men who draw out the rods1 or fuse the fragments1 have the smallest occasion for the use of any single human faculty2 and every young lady1 therefore1 who buys glass beads is engaged in the slave-trade1 and in a much more cruel one than that which we have so long been endeavoring to put down4 ,but glass cups and vessels may become the subjects of exquisite invention2 and if in buying these we pay for the invention1 that is to say for the beautiful form1 or color1 or engraving1 and not for mere finish of execution1 we are doing good to humanity4 ,,xviii4 ,so1 again1 the cutting of precious stones1 in all ordinary cases1 requires little exertion of any mental faculty2 some tact and judgment in avoiding flaws1 and so on1 but nothing to bring out the whole mind4 ,every person who wears cut jewels merely for the sake of their value is1 therefore1 a slave-driver4 ,but the working of the goldsmith1 and the various designing of grouped jewellery and enamel-work1 may become the subject of the most noble human intelligence4 ,therefore1 money spent in the purchase of well-designed plate1 of precious engraved vases1 cameos1 or enamels1 does good to humanity2 and1 in work of this kind1 jewels may be employed to heighten its splendor2 and their cutting is then a price paid for the attainment of a noble end1 and thus perfectly allowable4 ,,xix4 ,i shall perhaps press this law farther elsewhere1 but our immediate concern is chiefly with the second1 namely1 never to demand an exact finish1 when it does not lead to a noble end4 ,for observe1 ,i have only dwelt upon the rudeness of ,gothic1 or any other kind of imperfectness1 as admirable1 where it was impossible to get design or thought without it4 ,if you are to have the thought of a rough and untaught man1 you must have it in a rough and untaught way2 but from an educated man1 who can without effort express his thoughts in an educated way1 take the graceful expression1 and be thankful4 ,only get the thought1 and do not silence the peasant because he cannot speak good grammar1 or until you have taught him his grammar4 ,grammar and refinement are good things1 both1 only be sure of the better thing first4 ,and thus in art1 delicate finish is desirable from the greatest masters1 and is always given by them4 ,in some places ,michael ,angelo1 ,leonardo1 ,phidias1 ,perugino1 ,turner1 all finished with the most exquisite care2 and the finish they give always leads to the fuller accomplishment of their noble purposes4 ,but lower men than these cannot finish1 for it requires consummate knowledge to finish consummately1 and then we must take their thoughts as they are able to give them4 ,so the rule is simple3 ,always look for invention first1 and after that1 for such execution as will help the invention1 and as the inventor is capable of without painful effort1 and no more4 ,above all1 demand no refinement of execution where there is no thought1 for that is slaves' work1 unredeemed4 ,rather choose rough work than smooth work1 so only that the practical purpose be answered1 and never imagine there is reason to be proud of anything that may be accomplished by patience and sandpaper4 ,,xx4 ,i shall only give one example1 which however will show the reader what ,i mean1 from the manufacture already alluded to1 that of glass4 ,our modern glass is exquisitely clear in its substance1 true in its form1 accurate in its cutting4 ,we are proud of this4 ,we ought to be ashamed of it4 ,the old ,venice glass was muddy1 inaccurate in all its forms1 and clumsily cut1 if at all4 ,and the old ,venetian was justly proud of it4 ,for there is this difference between the ,english and ,venetian workman1 that the former thinks only of accurately matching his patterns1 and getting his curves perfectly true and his edges perfectly sharp1 and becomes a mere machine for rounding curves and sharpening edges1 while the old ,venetian cared not a whit whether his edges were sharp or not1 but he invented a new design for every glass that he made1 and never moulded a handle or a lip without a new fancy in it4 ,and therefore1 though some ,venetian glass is ugly and clumsy enough1 when made by clumsy and uninventive workmen1 other ,venetian glass is so lovely in its forms that no price is too great for it2 and we never see the same form in it twice4 ,now you cannot have the finish and the varied form too4 ,if the workman is thinking about his edges1 he cannot be thinking of his design2 if of his design1 he cannot think of his edges4 ,choose whether you will pay for the lovely form or the perfect finish1 and choose at the same moment whether you will make the worker a man or a grindstone4 ,,xxi4 ,nay1 but the reader interrupts me1--,if the workman can design beautifully1 ,i would not have him kept at the furnace4 ,let him be taken away and made a gentleman1 and have a studio1 and design his glass there1 and ,i will have it blown and cut for him by common workmen1 and so ,i will have my design and my finish too4 ,all ideas of this kind are founded upon two mistaken suppositions3 the first1 that one man's thoughts can be1 or ought to be1 executed by another man's hands2 the second1 that manual labor is a degradation1 when it is governed by intellect4 ,on a large scale1 and in work determinable by line and rule1 it is indeed both possible and necessary that the thoughts of one man should be carried out by the labor of others2 in this sense ,i have already defined the best architecture to be the expression of the mind of manhood by the hands of childhood4 ,but on a smaller scale1 and in a design which cannot be mathematically defined1 one man's thoughts can never be expressed by another3 and the difference between the spirit of touch of the man who is inventing1 and of the man who is obeying directions1 is often all the difference between a great and a common work of art4 ,how wide the separation is between original and second-hand execution1 ,i shall endeavor to show elsewhere2 it is not so much to our purpose here as to mark the other and more fatal error of despising manual labor when governed by intellect2 for it is no less fatal an error to despise it when thus regulated by intellect1 than to value it for its own sake4 ,we are always in these days endeavoring to separate the two2 we want one man to be always thinking1 and another to be always working1 and we call one a gentleman1 and the other an operative2 whereas the workman ought often to be thinking1 and the thinker often to be working1 and both should be gentlemen1 in the best sense4 ,as it is1 we make both ungentle1 the one envying1 the other despising1 his brother2 and the mass of society is made up of morbid thinkers1 and miserable workers4 ,now it is only by labor that thought can be made healthy1 and only by thought that labor can be made happy1 and the two cannot be separated with impunity4 ,it would be well if all of us were good handicraftsmen in some kind1 and the dishonor of manual labor done away with altogether2 so that though there should still be a trenchant distinction of race between nobles and commoners1 there should not1 among the latter1 be a trenchant distinction of employment1 as between idle and working men1 or between men of liberal and illiberal professions4 ,all professions should be liberal1 and there should be less pride felt in peculiarity of employment1 and more in excellence of achievement4 ,and yet more1 in each several profession1 no master should be too proud to do its hardest work4 ,the painter should grind his own colors2 the architect work in the mason's yard with his men2 the master-manufacturer be himself a more skilful operative than any man in his mills2 and the distinction between one man and another be only in experience and skill1 and the authority and wealth which these must naturally and justly obtain4 ,,xxii4 ,i should be led far from the matter in hand1 if ,i were to pursue this interesting subject4 ,enough1 ,i trust1 has been said to show the reader that the rudeness or imperfection which at first rendered the term ,gothic one of reproach is indeed1 when rightly understood1 one of the most noble characters of ,christian architecture1 and not only a noble but an essential one4 ,it seems a fantastic paradox1 but it is nevertheless a most important truth1 that no architecture can be truly noble which is not imperfect4 ,and this is easily demonstrable4 ,for since the architect1 whom we will suppose capable of doing all in perfection1 cannot execute the whole with his own hands1 he must either make slaves of his workmen in the old ,greek1 and present ,english fashion1 and level his work to a slave's capacities1 which is to degrade it2 or else he must take his workmen as he finds them1 and let them show their weaknesses together with their strength1 which will involve the ,gothic imperfection1 but render the whole work as noble as the intellect of the age can make it4 ,,xxiii4 ,but the principle may be stated more broadly still4 ,i have confined the illustration of it to architecture1 but ,i must not leave it as if true of architecture only4 ,hitherto ,i have used the words imperfect and perfect merely to distinguish between work grossly unskilful1 and work executed with average precision and science2 and ,i have been pleading that any degree of unskilfulness should be admitted1 so only that the laborer's mind had room for expression4 ,but1 accurately speaking1 no good work whatever can be perfect1 and the demand for perfection is always a sign of a misunderstanding of the ends of art4 ,,xxiv4 ,this for two reasons1 both based on everlasting laws4 ,the first1 that no great man ever stops working till he has reached his point of failure2 that is to say1 his mind is always far in advance of his powers of execution1 and the latter will now and then give way in trying to follow it2 besides that he will always give to the inferior portions of his work only such inferior attention as they require2 and according to his greatness he becomes so accustomed to the feeling of dissatisfaction with the best he can do1 that in moments of lassitude or anger with himself he will not care though the beholder be dissatisfied also4 ,i believe there has only been one man who would not acknowledge this necessity1 and strove always to reach perfection1 ,leonardo2 the end of his vain effort being merely that he would take ten years to a picture1 and leave it unfinished4 ,and therefore1 if we are to have great men working at all1 or less men doing their best1 the work will be imperfect1 however beautiful4 ,of human work none but what is bad can be perfect1 in its own bad way4#eh ,,xxv4 ,the second reason is1 that imperfection is in some sort essential to all that we know of life4 ,it is the sign of life in a mortal body1 that is to say1 of a state of progress and change4 ,nothing that lives is1 or can be1 rigidly perfect2 part of it is decaying1 part nascent4 ,the foxglove blossom1--a third part bud1 a third part past1 a third part in full bloom1--is a type of the life of this world4 ,and in all things that live there are certain1 irregularities and deficiencies which are not only signs of life1 but sources of beauty4 ,no human face is exactly the same in its lines on each side1 no leaf perfect in its lobes1 no branch in its symmetry4 ,all admit irregularity as they imply change2 and to banish imperfection is to destroy expression1 to check exertion1 to paralyse vitality4 ,all things are literally better1 lovelier1 and more beloved for the imperfections which have been divinely appointed1 that the law of human life may be ,effort1 and the law of human judgment1 ,mercy4 ,accept this then for a universal law1 that neither architecture nor any other noble work of man can be good unless it be imperfect2 and let us be prepared for the otherwise strange fact1 which we shall discern clearly as we approach the period of the ,renaissance1 that the first cause of the fall of the arts of ,europe was a relentless requirement of perfection1 incapable alike either of being silenced by veneration for greatness1 or softened into forgiveness of simplicity4 ,thus far then of the ,rudeness or ,savageness1 which is the first mental element of ,gothic architecture4 ,it is an element in many other healthy architectures also1 as in ,byzantine and ,romanesque2 but true ,gothic cannot exist without it4 ,,xxvi4 ,the second mental element above named was ,,changefulness1 or ,variety4 ,i have already enforced the allowing independent operation to the inferior workman1 simply as a duty to him1 and as ennobling the architecture by rendering it more ,christian4 ,we have now to consider what reward we obtain for the performance of this duty1 namely1 the perpetual variety of every feature of the building4 ,wherever the workman is utterly enslaved1 the parts of the building must of course be absolutely like each other2 for the perfection of his execution can only be reached by exercising him in doing one thing1 and giving him nothing else to do4 ,the degree in which the workman is degraded may be thus known at a glance1 by observing whether the several parts of the building are similar or not2 and if1 as in ,greek work1 all the capitals are alike1 and all the mouldings unvaried1 then the degradation is complete2 if1 as in ,egyptian or ,ninevite work1 though the manner of executing certain figures is always the same1 the order of design is perpetually varied1 the degradation is less total2 if1 as in ,gothic work1 there is perpetual change both in design and execution1 the workman must have been altogether set free4 ,,xxvii4 ,how much the beholder gains from the liberty of the laborer may perhaps be questioned in ,england1 where one of the strongest instincts in nearly every mind is that ,love of ,order which makes us desire that our house windows should pair like our carriage horses1 and allows us to yield our faith unhesitatingly to architectural theories which fix a form for everything and forbid variation from it4 ,i would not impeach love of order3 it is one of the most useful elements of the ,english mind2 it helps us in our commerce and in all purely practical matters2 and it is in many cases one of the foundation stones of morality4 ,only do not let us suppose that love of order is love of art4 ,it is true that order1 in its highest sense1 is one of the necessities of art1 just as time is a necessity of music2 but love of order has no more to do with our right enjoyment of architecture or painting1 than love of punctuality with the appreciation of an opera4 ,experience1 ,i fear1 teaches us that accurate and methodical habits in daily life are seldom characteristic of those who either quickly perceive1 or richly possess1 the creative powers of art2 there is1 however1 nothing inconsistent between the two instincts1 and nothing to hinder us from retaining our business habits1 and yet fully allowing and enjoying the noblest gifts of ,invention4 ,we already do so1 in every other branch of art except architecture1 and we only do not so there because we have been taught that it would be wrong4 ,our architects gravely inform us that1 as there are four rules of arithmetic1 there are five orders of architecture2 we1 in our simplicity1 think that this sounds consistent1 and believe them4 ,they inform us also that there is one proper form for ,corinthian capitals1 another for ,doric1 and another for ,ionic4 ,we1 considering that there is also a proper form for the letters ,a1 ,b1 and ,c1 think that this also sounds consistent1 and accept the proposition4 ,understanding1 therefore1 that one form of the said capitals is proper1 and no other1 and having a conscientious horror of all impropriety1 we allow the architect to provide us with the said capitals1 of the proper form1 in such and such a quantity1 and in all other points to take care that the legal forms are observed2 which having done1 we rest in forced confidence that we are well housed4 ,,xxviii4 ,but our higher instincts are not deceived4 ,we take no pleasure in the building provided for us1 resembling that which we take in a new book or a new picture4 ,we may be proud of its size1 complacent in its correctness1 and happy in its convenience4 ,we may take the same pleasure in its symmetry and workmanship as in a well-ordered room1 or a skilful piece of manufacture4 ,and this we suppose to be all the pleasure that architecture was ever intended to give us4 ,the idea of reading a building as we would read ,milton or ,dante1 and getting the same kind of delight out of the stones as out of the stanzas1 never enters our minds for a moment4 ,and for good reason3--,there is indeed rhythm in the verses1 quite as strict as the symmetries or rhythm of the architecture1 and a thousand times more beautiful1 but there is something else than rhythm4 ,the verses were neither made to order1 nor to match1 as the capitals were2 and we have therefore a kind of pleasure in them other than a sense of propriety4 ,but it requires a strong effort of common sense to shake ourselves quit of all that we have been taught for the last two centuries1 and wake to the perception of a truth just as simple and certain as it is new3 that great art1 whether expressing itself in words1 colors1 or stones1 does not say the same thing over and over again2 that the merit of architectural1 as of every other art1 consists in its saying new and different things2 that to repeat itself is no more a characteristic of genius in marble than it is of genius in print2 and that we may1 without offending any laws of good taste1 require of an architect1 as we do of a novelist1 that he should be not only correct1 but entertaining4 ,yet all this is true1 and self-evident2 only hidden from us1 as many other self-evident things are1 by false teaching4 ,nothing is a great work of art1 for the production of which either rules or models can be given4 ,exactly so far as architecture works on known rules1 and from given models1 it is not an art1 but a manufacture2 and it is1 of the two procedures1 rather less rational 7because more easy7 to copy capitals or mouldings from ,phidias1 and call ourselves architects1 than to copy heads and hands from ,titian1 and call ourselves painters4 ,,xxix4 ,let us then understand at once1 that change or variety is as much a necessity to the human heart and brain in buildings as in books2 that there is no merit1 though there is some occasional use1 in monotony2 and that we must no more expect to derive either pleasure or profit from an architecture whose ornaments are of one pattern1 and whose pillars are of one proportion1 than we should out of a universe in which the clouds were all of one shape1 and the trees all of one size4 ,,xxx4 ,and this we confess in deeds1 though not in words4 ,all the pleasure which the people of the nineteenth century take in art1 is in pictures1 sculpture1 minor objects of virt1 or medival architecture1 which we enjoy under the term picturesque3 no pleasure is taken anywhere in modern buildings1 and we find all men of true feeling delighting to escape out of modern cities into natural scenery3 hence1 as ,i shall hereafter show1 that peculiar love of landscape which is characteristic of the age4 ,it would be well1 if1 in all other matters1 we were as ready to put up with what we dislike1 for the sake of compliance with established law1 as we are in architecture4 ,,xxxi4 ,how so debased a law ever came to be established1 we shall see when we come to describe the ,renaissance schools3 here we have only to note1 as the second most essential element of the ,gothic spirit1 that it broke through that law wherever it found it in existence2 it not only dared1 but delighted in1 the infringement of every servile principle2 and invented a series of forms of which the merit was1 not merely that they were new1 but that they were capable of perpetual novelty4 ,the pointed arch was not merely a bold variation from the round1 but it admitted of millions of variations in itself2 for the proportions of a pointed arch are changeable to infinity1 while a circular arch is always the same4 ,the grouped shaft was not merely a bold variation from the single one1 but it admitted of millions of variations in its grouping1 and in the proportions resultant from its grouping4 ,the introduction of tracery was not only a startling change in the treatment of window lights1 but admitted endless changes in the interlacement of the tracery bars themselves4 ,so that1 while in all living ,christian architecture the love of variety exists1 the ,gothic schools exhibited that love in culminating energy2 and their influence1 wherever it extended itself1 may be sooner and farther traced by this character than by any other2 the tendency to the adoption of ,gothic types being always first shown by greater irregularity and richer variation in the forms of the architecture it is about to supersede1 long before the appearance of the pointed arch or of any other recognizable outward sign of the ,gothic mind4 ,,xxxii4 ,we must1 however1 herein note carefully what distinction there is between a healthy and a diseased love of change2 for as it was in healthy love of change that the ,gothic architecture rose1 it was partly in consequence of diseased love of change that it was destroyed4 ,in order to understand this clearly1 it will be necessary to consider the different ways in which change and monotony are presented to us in nature2 both having their use1 like darkness and light1 and the one incapable of being enjoyed without the other3 change being most delightful after some prolongation of monotony1 as light appears most brilliant after the eyes have been for some time closed4 ,,xxxiii4 ,i believe that the true relations of monotony and change may be most simply understood by observing them in music4 ,we may therein notice1 first1 that there is a sublimity and majesty in monotony which there is not in rapid or frequent variation4 ,this is true throughout all nature4 ,the greater part of the sublimity of the sea depends on its monotony2 so also that of desolate moor and mountain scenery2 and especially the sublimity of motion1 as in the quiet1 unchanged fall and rise of an engine beam4 ,so also there is sublimity in darkness which there is not in light4 ,,xxxiv4 ,again1 monotony after a certain time1 or beyond a certain degree1 becomes either uninteresting or intolerable1 and the musician is obliged to break it in one or two ways3 either while the air or passage is perpetually repeated1 its notes are variously enriched and harmonized2 or else1 after a certain number of repeated passages1 an entirely new passage is introduced1 which is more or less delightful according to the length of the previous monotony4 ,nature1 of course1 uses both these kinds of variation perpetually4 ,the sea-waves1 resembling each other in general mass1 but none like its brother in minor divisions and curves1 are a monotony of the first kind2 the great plain1 broken by an emergent rock or clump of trees1 is a monotony of the second4 ,,xxxv4 ,farther3 in order to the enjoyment of the change in either case1 a certain degree of patience is required from the hearer or observer4 ,in the first case1 he must be satisfied to endure with patience the recurrence of the great masses of sound or form1 and to seek for entertainment in a careful watchfulness of the minor details4 ,in the second case1 he must bear patiently the infliction of the monotony for some moments1 in order to feel the full refreshment of the change4 ,this is true even of the shortest musical passage in which the element of monotony is employed4 ,in cases of more majestic monotony1 the patience required is so considerable that it becomes a kind of pain1--a price paid for the future pleasure4 ,,xxxvi4 ,again3 the talent of the composer is not in the monotony1 but in the changes3 he may show feeling and taste by his use of monotony in certain places or degrees2 that is to say1 by his various employment of it2 but it is always in the new arrangement or invention that his intellect is shown1 and not in the monotony which relieves it4 ,lastly3 if the pleasure of change be too often repeated1 it ceases to be delightful1 for then change itself becomes monotonous1 and we are driven to seek delight in extreme and fantastic degrees of it4 ,this is the diseased love of change of which we have above spoken4 ,,xxxvii4 ,from these facts we may gather generally that monotony is1 and ought to be1 in itself painful to us1 just as darkness is2 that an architecture which is altogether monotonous is a dark or dead architecture2 and1 of those who love it1 it may be truly said1 they love darkness rather than light4 ,but monotony in certain measure1 used in order to give value to change1 and1 above all1 that transparent monotony which1 like the shadows of a great painter1 suffers all manner of dimly suggested form to be seen through the body of it1 is an essential in architectural as in all other composition2 and the endurance of monotony has about the same place in a healthy mind that the endurance of darkness has3 that is to say1 as a strong intellect will have pleasure in the solemnities of storm and twilight1 and in the broken and mysterious lights that gleam among them1 rather than in mere brilliancy and glare1 while a frivolous mind will dread the shadow and the storm2 and as a great man will be ready to endure much darkness of fortune in order to reach greater eminence of power or felicity1 while an inferior man will not pay the price2 exactly in like manner a great mind will accept1 or even delight in1 monotony which would be wearisome to an inferior intellect1 because it has more patience and power of expectation1 and is ready to pay the full price for the great future pleasure of change4 ,but in all cases it is not that the noble nature loves monotony1 any more than it loves darkness or pain4 ,but it can bear with it1 and receives a high pleasure in the endurance or patience1 a pleasure necessary to the well-being of this world2 while those who will not submit to the temporary sameness1 but rush from one change to another1 gradually dull the edge of change itself1 and bring a shadow and weariness over the whole world from which there is no more escape4 ,,xxxviii4 ,from these general uses of variety in the economy of the world1 we may at once understand its use and abuse in architecture4 ,the variety of the ,gothic schools is the more healthy and beautiful1 because in many cases it is entirely unstudied1 and results1 not from the mere love of change1 but from practical necessities4 ,for in one point of view ,gothic is not only the best1 but the only rational architecture1 as being that which can fit itself most easily to all services1 vulgar or noble4 ,undefined in its slope of roof1 height of shaft1 breadth of arch1 or disposition of ground plan1 it can shrink into a turret1 expand into a hall1 coil into a staircase1 or spring into a spire1 with undegraded grace and unexhausted energy2 and whenever it finds occasion for change in its form or purpose1 it submits to it without the slightest sense of loss either to its unity or majesty1--subtle and flexible like a fiery serpent1 but ever attentive to the voice of the charmer4 ,and it is one of the chief virtues of the ,gothic builders1 that they never suffered ideas of outside symmetries and consistencies to interfere with the real use and value of what they did4 ,if they wanted a window1 they opened one2 a room1 they added one2 a buttress1 they built one2 utterly regardless of any established conventionalities of external appearance1 knowing 7as indeed it always happened7 that such daring interruptions of the formal plan would rather give additional interest to its symmetry than injure it4 ,so that1 in the best times of ,gothic1 a useless window would rather have been opened in an unexpected place for the sake of the surprise1 than a useful one forbidden for the sake of symmetry4 ,every successive architect1 employed upon a great work1 built the pieces he added in his own way1 utterly regardless of the style adopted by his predecessors2 and if two towers were raised in nominal correspondence at the sides of a cathedral front1 one was nearly sure to be different from the other1 and in each the style at the top to be different from the style at the bottom4#ei ,,xxxix4 ,these marked variations were1 however1 only permitted as part of the great system of perpetual change which ran through every member of ,gothic design1 and rendered it as endless a field for the beholder's inquiry1 as for the builder's imagination3 change1 which in the best schools is subtle and delicate1 and rendered more delightful by intermingling of a noble monotony2 in the more barbaric schools is somewhat fantastic and redundant2 but1 in all1 a necessary and constant condition of the life of the school4 ,sometimes the variety is in one feature1 sometimes in another2 it may be in the capitals or crockets1 in the niches or the traceries1 or in all together1 but in some one or other of the features it will be found always4 ,if the mouldings are constant1 the surface sculpture will change2 if the capitals are of a fixed design1 the traceries will change2 if the traceries are monotonous1 the capitals will change2 and if even1 as in some fine schools1 the early ,english for example1 there is the slightest approximation to an unvarying type of mouldings1 capitals1 and floral decoration1 the variety is found in the disposition of the masses1 and in the figure sculpture4 ,,xl4 ,i must now refer for a moment1 before we quit the consideration of this1 the second mental element of ,gothic1 to the opening of the third chapter of the ,seven ,lamps of ,architecture1 in which the distinction was drawn 7 #b7 between man gathering and man governing2 between his acceptance of the sources of delight from nature1 and his developement of authoritative or imaginative power in their arrangement3 for the two mental elements1 not only of ,gothic1 but of all good architecture1 which we have just been examining1 belong to it1 and are admirable in it1 chiefly as it is1 more than any other subject of art1 the work of man1 and the expression of the average power of man4 ,a picture or poem is often little more than a feeble utterance of man's admiration of something out of himself2 but architecture approaches more to a creation of his own1 born of his necessities1 and expressive of his nature4 ,it is also1 in some sort1 the work of the whole race1 while the picture or statue are the work of one only1 in most cases more highly gifted than his fellows4 ,and therefore we may expect that the first two elements of good architecture should be expressive of some great truths commonly belonging to the whole race1 and necessary to be understood or felt by them in all their work that they do under the sun4 ,and observe what they are3 the confession of ,imperfection and the confession of ,desire of ,change4 ,the building of the bird and the bee needs not express anything like this4 ,it is perfect and unchanging4 ,but just because we are something better than birds or bees1 our building must confess that we have not reached the perfection we can imagine1 and cannot rest in the condition we have attained4 ,if we pretend to have reached either perfection or satisfaction1 we have degraded ourselves and our work4 ,god's work only may express that2 but ours may never have that sentence written upon it1--,and behold1 it was very good4 ,and1 observe again1 it is not merely as it renders the edifice a book of various knowledge1 or a mine of precious thought1 that variety is essential to its nobleness4 ,the vital principle is not the love of ,knowledge1 but the love of ,change4 ,it is that strange disquietude of the ,gothic spirit that is its greatness2 that restlessness of the dreaming mind1 that wanders hither and thither among the niches1 and flickers feverishly around the pinnacles1 and frets and fades in labyrinthine knots and shadows along wall and roof1 and yet is not satisfied1 nor shall be satisfied4 ,the ,greek could stay in his triglyph furrow1 and be at peace2 but the work of the ,gothic heart is fretwork still1 and it can neither rest in1 nor from1 its labor1 but must pass on1 sleeplessly1 until its love of change shall be pacified for ever in the change that must come alike on them that wake and them that sleep4 ,,xli4 ,the third constituent element of the ,gothic mind was stated to be ,,naturalism2 that is to say1 the love of natural objects for their own sake1 and the effort to represent them frankly1 unconstrained by artistical laws4 ,this characteristic of the style partly follows in necessary connexion with those named above4 ,for1 so soon as the workman is left free to represent what subjects he chooses1 he must look to the nature that is round him for material1 and will endeavor to represent it as he sees it1 with more or less accuracy according to the skill he possesses1 and with much play of fancy1 but with small respect for law4 ,there is1 however1 a marked distinction between the imaginations of the ,western and ,eastern races1 even when both are left free2 the ,western1 or ,gothic1 delighting most in the representation of facts1 and the ,eastern 7,arabian1 ,persian1 and ,chinese7 in the harmony of colors and forms4 ,each of these intellectual dispositions has its particular forms of error and abuse1 which1 though ,i have often before stated1 ,i must here again briefly explain2 and this the rather1 because the word ,naturalism is1 in one of its senses1 justly used as a term of reproach1 and the questions respecting the real relations of art and nature are so many and so confused throughout all the schools of ,europe at this day1 that ,i cannot clearly enunciate any single truth without appearing to admit1 in fellowship with it1 some kind of error1 unless the reader will bear with me in entering into such an analysis of the subject as will serve us for general guidance4 ,,xlii4 ,we are to remember1 in the first place1 that the arrangement of colors and lines is an art analogous to the composition#fj of music1 and entirely independent of the representation of facts4 ,good coloring does not necessarily convey the image of anything but itself4 ,it consists in certain proportions and arrangements of rays of light1 but not in likenesses to anything4 ,a few touches of certain greys and purples laid by a master's hand on white paper1 will be good coloring2 as more touches are added beside them1 we may find out that they were intended to represent a dove's neck1 and we may praise1 as the drawing advances1 the perfect imitation of the dove's neck4 ,but the good coloring does not consist in that imitation1 but in the abstract qualities and relations of the grey and purple4 ,in like manner1 as soon as a great sculptor begins to shape his work out of the block1 we shall see that its lines are nobly arranged1 and of noble character4 ,we may not have the slightest idea for what the forms are intended1 whether they are of man or beast1 of vegetation or drapery4 ,their likeness to anything does not affect their nobleness4 ,they are magnificent forms1 and that is all we need care to know of them1 in order to say whether the workman is a good or bad sculptor4 ,,xliii4 ,now the noblest art is an exact unison of the abstract value1 with the imitative power1 of forms and colors4 ,it is the noblest composition1 used to express the noblest facts4 ,but the human mind cannot in general unite the two perfections3 it either pursues the fact to the neglect of the composition1 or pursues the composition to the neglect of the fact4 ,,xliv4 ,and it is intended by the ,deity that it should do this2 the best art is not always wanted4 ,facts are often wanted without art1 as in a geological diagram2 and art often without facts1 as in a ,turkey carpet4 ,and most men have been made capable of giving either one or the other1 but not both2 only one or two1 the very highest1 can give both4 ,observe then4 ,men are universally divided1 as respects their artistical qualifications1 into three great classes2 a right1 a left1 and a centre4 ,on the right side are the men of facts1 on the left the men of design1#fa in the centre the men of both4 ,the three classes of course pass into each other by imperceptible gradations4 ,the men of facts are hardly ever altogether without powers of design2 the men of design are always in some measure cognizant of facts2 and as each class possesses more or less of the powers of the opposite one1 it approaches to the character of the central class4 ,few men1 even in that central rank1 are so exactly throned on the summit of the crest that they cannot be perceived to incline in the least one way or the other1 embracing both horizons with their glance4 ,now each of these classes has1 as ,i above said1 a healthy function in the world1 and correlative diseases or unhealthy functions2 and1 when the work of either of them is seen in its morbid condition1 we are apt to find fault with the class of workmen1 instead of finding fault only with the particular abuse which has perverted their action4 ,,xlv4 ,let us first take an instance of the healthy action of the three classes on a simple subject1 so as fully to understand the distinction between them1 and then we shall more easily examine the corruptions to which they are liable4 ,fig4 #a in ,plate ,,vi4 is a spray of vine with a bough of cherry-tree1 which ,i have outlined from nature as accurately as ,i could1 without in the least endeavoring to compose or arrange the form4 ,it is a simple piece of fact-work1 healthy and good as such1 and useful to any one who wanted to know plain truths about tendrils of vines1 but there is no attempt at design in it4 ,plate ,,xix41 below1 represents a branch of vine used to decorate the angle of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,it is faithful as a representation of vine1 and yet so designed that every leaf serves an architectural purpose1 and could not be spared from its place without harm4 ,this is central work2 fact and design together4 ,fig4 #b in ,plate ,,vi4 is a spandril from ,st4 ,mark's1 in which the forms of the vine are dimly suggested1 the object of the design being merely to obtain graceful lines and well proportioned masses upon the gold ground4 ,there is not the least attempt to inform the spectator of any facts about the growth of the vine2 there are no stalks or tendrils1--merely running bands with leaves emergent from them1 of which nothing but the outline is taken from the vine1 and even that imperfectly4 ,this is design1 unregardful of facts4 ,now the work is1 in all these three cases1 perfectly healthy4 ,fig4 #a is not bad work because it has not design1 nor ,fig4 #b bad work because it has not facts4 ,the object of the one is to give pleasure through truth1 and of the other to give pleasure through composition4 ,and both are right4 ,what1 then1 are the diseased operations to which the three classes of workmen are liable8 ,,xlvi4 ,primarily1 two2 affecting the two inferior classes3 #ast1 ,when either of those two classes ,despises the other3 #bnd1 ,when either of the two classes ,envies the other2 producing1 therefore1 four forms of dangerous error4 ,first1 when the men of facts despise design4 ,this is the error of the common ,dutch painters1 of merely imitative painters of still life1 flowers1 c41 and other men who1 having either the gift of accurate imitation or strong sympathies with nature1 suppose that all is done when the imitation is perfected or sympathy expressed4 ,a large body of ,english landscapists come into this class1 including most clever sketchers from nature1 who fancy that to get a sky of true tone1 and a gleam of sunshine or sweep of shower faithfully expressed1 is all that can be required of art4 ,these men are generally themselves answerable for much of their deadness of feeling to the higher qualities of composition4 ,they probably have not originally the high gifts of design1 but they lose such powers as they originally possessed by despising1 and refusing to study1 the results of great power of design in others4 ,their knowledge1 as far as it goes1 being accurate1 they are usually presumptuous and self-conceited1 and gradually become incapable of admiring anything but what is like their own works4 ,they see nothing in the works of great designers but the faults1 and do harm almost incalculable in the ,european society of the present day by sneering at the compositions of the greatest men of the earlier ages1#fb because they do not absolutely tally with their own ideas of ,nature4 ,,xlvii4 ,the second form of error is when the men of design despise facts4 ,all noble design must deal with facts to a certain extent1 for there is no food for it but in nature4 ,the best colorist invents best by taking hints from natural colors2 from birds1 skies1 or groups of figures4 ,and if1 in the delight of inventing fantastic color and form the truths of nature are wilfully neglected1 the intellect becomes comparatively decrepit1 and that state of art results which we find among the ,chinese4 ,the ,greek designers delighted in the facts of the human form1 and became great in consequence2 but the facts of lower nature were disregarded by them1 and their inferior ornament became1 therefore1 dead and valueless4 ,,xlviii4 ,the third form of error is when the men of facts envy design3 that is to say1 when1 having only imitative powers1 they refuse to employ those powers upon the visible world around them2 but1 having been taught that composition is the end of art1 strive to obtain the inventive powers which nature has denied them1 study nothing but the works of reputed designers1 and perish in a fungous growth of plagiarism and laws of art4 ,here was the great error of the beginning of this century2 it is the error of the meanest kind of men that employ themselves in painting1 and it is the most fatal of all1 rendering those who fall into it utterly useless1 incapable of helping the world with either truth or fancy1 while1 in all probability1 they deceive it by base resemblances of both1 until it hardly recognizes truth or fancy when they really exist4 ,,xlix4 ,the fourth form of error is when the men of design envy facts2 that is to say1 when the temptation of closely imitating nature leads them to forget their own proper ornamental function1 and when they lose the power of the composition for the sake of graphic truth2 as1 for instance1 in the hawthorn moulding so often spoken of round the porch of ,bourges ,cathedral1 which1 though very lovely1 might perhaps1 as we saw above1 have been better1 if the old builder1 in his excessive desire to make it look like hawthorn1 had not painted it green4 ,l4 ,it is1 however1 carefully to be noted1 that the two morbid conditions to which the men of facts are liable are much more dangerous and harmful than those to which the men of design are liable4 ,the morbid state of men of design injures themselves only2 that of the men of facts injures the whole world4 ,the ,chinese porcelain-painter is1 indeed1 not so great a man as he might be1 but he does not want to break everything that is not porcelain2 but the modern ,english fact-hunter1 despising design1 wants to destroy everything that does not agree with his own notions of truth1 and becomes the most dangerous and despicable of iconoclasts1 excited by egotism instead of religion4 ,again3 the ,bourges sculptor1 painting his hawthorns green1 did indeed somewhat hurt the effect of his own beautiful design1 but did not prevent any one from loving hawthorn3 but ,sir ,george ,beaumont1 trying to make ,constable paint grass brown instead of green1 was setting himself between ,constable and nature1 blinding the painter1 and blaspheming the work of ,god4 ,,li4 ,so much1 then1 of the diseases of the inferior classes1 caused by their envying or despising each other4 ,it is evident that the men of the central class cannot be liable to any morbid operation of this kind1 they possessing the powers of both4 ,but there is another order of diseases which affect all the three classes1 considered with respect to their pursuit of facts4 ,for observe1 all the three classes are in some degree pursuers of facts2 even the men of design not being in any case altogether independent of external truth4 ,now1 considering them all as more or less searchers after truth1 there is another triple division to be made of them4 ,everything presented to them in nature has good and evil mingled in it3 and artists1 considered as searchers after truth1 are again to be divided into three great classes1 a right1 a left1 and a centre4 ,those on the right perceive1 and pursue1 the good1 and leave the evil3 those in the centre1 the greatest1 perceive and pursue the good and evil together1 the whole thing as it verily is3 those on the left perceive and pursue the evil1 and leave the good4 ,,lii4 ,the first class1 ,i say1 take the good and leave the evil4 ,out of whatever is presented to them1 they gather what it has of grace1 and life1 and light1 and holiness1 and leave all1 or at least as much as possible1 of the rest undrawn4 ,the faces of their figures express no evil passions2 the skies of their landscapes are without storm2 the prevalent character of their color is brightness1 and of their chiaroscuro fulness of light4 ,the early ,italian and ,flemish painters1 ,angelico and ,hemling1 ,perugino1 ,francia1 ,raffaelle in his best time1 ,john ,bellini1 and our own ,stothard1 belong eminently to this class4 ,,liii4 ,the second1 or greatest class1 render all that they see in nature unhesitatingly1 with a kind of divine grasp and government of the whole1 sympathizing with all the good1 and yet confessing1 permitting1 and bringing good out of the evil also4 ,their subject is infinite as nature1 their color equally balanced between splendor and sadness1 reaching occasionally the highest degrees of both1 and their chiaroscuro equally balanced between light and shade4 ,the principal men of this class are ,michael ,angelo1 ,leonardo1 ,giotto1 ,tintoret1 and ,turner4 ,raffaelle in his second time1 ,titian1 and ,rubens are transitional2 the first inclining to the eclectic1 and the last two to the impure class1 ,raffaelle rarely giving all the evil1 ,titian and ,rubens rarely all the good4 ,,liv4 ,the last class perceive and imitate evil only4 ,they cannot draw the trunk of a tree without blasting and shattering it1 nor a sky except covered with stormy clouds3 they delight in the beggary and brutality of the human race2 their color is for the most part subdued or lurid1 and the greatest spaces of their pictures are occupied by darkness4 ,happily the examples of this class are seldom seen in perfection4 ,salvator ,rosa and ,caravaggio are the most characteristic3 the other men belonging to it approach towards the central rank by imperceptible gradations1 as they perceive and represent more and more of good4 ,but ,murillo1 ,zurbaran1 ,camillo ,procaccini1 ,rembrandt1 and ,teniers1 all belong naturally to this lower class4 ,,lv4 ,now1 observe3 the three classes into which artists were previously divided1 of men of fact1 men of design1 and men of both1 are all of ,divine institution2 but of these latter three1 the last is in no wise of ,divine institution4 ,it is entirely human1 and the men who belong to it have sunk into it by their own faults4 ,they are1 so far forth1 either useless or harmful men4 ,it is indeed good that evil should be occasionally represented1 even in its worst forms1 but never that it should be taken delight in3 and the mighty men of the central class will always give us all that is needful of it2 sometimes1 as ,hogarth did1 dwelling upon it bitterly as satirists1--but this with the more effect1 because they will neither exaggerate it1 nor represent it mercilessly1 and without the atoning points that all evil shows to a ,divinely guided glance1 even at its deepest4 ,so then1 though the third class will always1 ,i fear1 in some measure exist1 the two necessary classes are only the first two2 and this is so far acknowledged by the general sense of men1 that the basest class has been confounded with the second2 and painters have been divided commonly only into two ranks1 now known1 ,i believe1 throughout ,europe by the names which they first received in ,italy1 ,puristi and ,naturalisti4 ,since1 however1 in the existing state of things1 the degraded or evil-loving class1 though less defined than that of the ,puristi1 is just as vast as it is indistinct1 this division has done infinite dishonor to the great faithful painters of nature3 and it has long been one of the objects ,i have had most at heart to show that1 in reality1 the ,purists1 in their sanctity1 are less separated from these natural painters than the ,sensualists in their foulness2 and that the difference1 though less discernible1 is in reality greater1 between the man who pursues evil for its own sake1 and him who bears with it for the sake of truth1 than between this latter and the man who will not endure it at all4 ,,lvi4 ,let us1 then1 endeavor briefly to mark the real relations of these three vast ranks of men1 whom ,i shall call1 for convenience in speaking of them1 ,purists1 ,naturalists1 and ,sensualists2 not that these terms express their real characters1 but ,i know no word1 and cannot coin a convenient one1 which would accurately express the opposite of ,purist2 and ,i keep the terms ,purist and ,naturalist in order to comply1 as far as possible1 with the established usage of language on the ,continent4 ,now1 observe3 in saying that nearly everything presented to us in nature has mingling in it of good and evil1 ,i do not mean that nature is conceivably improvable1 or that anything that ,god has made could be called evil1 if we could see far enough into its uses1 but that1 with respect to immediate effects or appearances1 it may be so1 just as the hard rind or bitter kernel of a fruit may be an evil to the eater1 though in the one is the protection of the fruit1 and in the other its continuance4 ,the ,purist1 therefore1 does not mend nature1 but receives from nature and from ,god that which is good for him2 while the ,sensualist fills himself with the husks that the swine did eat4 ,the three classes may1 therefore1 be likened to men reaping wheat1 of which the ,purists take the fine flour1 and the ,sensualists the chaff and straw1 but the ,naturalists take all home1 and make their cake of the one1 and their couch of the other4 ,,lvii4 ,for instance4 ,we know more certainly every day that whatever appears to us harmful in the universe has some beneficent or necessary operation2 that the storm which destroys a harvest brightens the sunbeams for harvests yet unsown1 and that the volcano which buries a city preserves a thousand from destruction4 ,but the evil is not for the time less fearful1 because we have learned it to be necessary2 and we easily understand the timidity or the tenderness of the spirit which would withdraw itself from the presence of destruction1 and create in its imagination a world of which the peace should be unbroken1 in which the sky should not darken nor the sea rage1 in which the leaf should not change nor the blossom wither4 ,that man is greater1 however1 who contemplates with an equal mind the alternations of terror and of beauty2 who1 not rejoicing less beneath the sunny sky1 can bear also to watch the bars of twilight narrowing on the horizon2 and1 not less sensible to the blessing of the peace of nature1 can rejoice in the magnificence of the ordinances by which that peace is protected and secured4 ,but separated from both by an immeasurable distance would be the man who delighted in convulsion and disease for their own sake2 who found his daily food in the disorder of nature mingled with the suffering of humanity2 and watched joyfully at the right hand of the ,angel whose appointed work is to destroy as well as to accuse1 while the corners of the ,house of feasting were struck by the wind from the wilderness4 ,,lviii4 ,and far more is this true1 when the subject of contemplation is humanity itself4 ,the passions of mankind are partly protective1 partly beneficent1 like the chaff and grain of the corn2 but none without their use1 none without nobleness when seen in balanced unity with the rest of the spirit which they are charged to defend4 ,the passions of which the end is the continuance of the race2 the indignation which is to arm it against injustice1 or strengthen it to resist wanton injury2 and the fear#fc which lies at the root of prudence1 reverence1 and awe1 are all honorable and beautiful1 so long as man is regarded in his relations to the existing world4 ,the religious ,purist1 striving to conceive him withdrawn from those relations1 effaces from the countenance the traces of all transitory passion1 illumines it with holy hope and love1 and seals it with the serenity of heavenly peace2 he conceals the forms of the body by the deep-folded garment1 or else represents them under severely chastened types1 and would rather paint them emaciated by the fast1 or pale from the torture1 than strengthened by exertion1 or flushed by emotion4 ,but the great ,naturalist takes the human being in its wholeness1 in its mortal as well as its spiritual strength4 ,capable of sounding and sympathizing with the whole range of its passions1 he brings one majestic harmony out of them all2 he represents it fearlessly in all its acts and thoughts1 in its haste1 its anger1 its sensuality1 and its pride1 as well as in its fortitude or faith1 but makes it noble in them all2 he casts aside the veil from the body1 and beholds the mysteries of its form like an angel looking down on an inferior creature3 there is nothing which he is reluctant to behold1 nothing that he is ashamed to confess2 with all that lives1 triumphing1 falling1 or suffering1 he claims kindred1 either in majesty or in mercy1 yet standing1 in a sort1 afar off1 unmoved even in the deepness of his sympathy2 for the spirit within him is too thoughtful to be grieved1 too brave to be appalled1 and too pure to be polluted4 ,,lix4 ,how far beneath these two ranks of men shall we place1 in the scale of being1 those whose pleasure is only in sin or in suffering2 who habitually contemplate humanity in poverty or decrepitude1 fury or sensuality2 whose works are either temptations to its weakness1 or triumphs over its ruin1 and recognize no other subjects for thought or admiration than the subtlety of the robber1 the rage of the soldier1 or the joy of the ,sybarite4 ,it seems strange1 when thus definitely stated1 that such a school should exist4 ,yet consider a little what gaps and blanks would disfigure our gallery and chamber walls1 in places that we have long approached with reverence1 if every picture1 every statue1 were removed from them1 of which the subject was either the vice or the misery of mankind1 portrayed without any moral purpose3 consider the innumerable groups having reference merely to various forms of passion1 low or high2 drunken revels and brawls among peasants1 gambling or fighting scenes among soldiers1 amours and intrigues among every class1 brutal battle pieces1 banditti subjects1 gluts of torture and death in famine1 wreck1 or slaughter1 for the sake merely of the excitement1--that quickening and suppling of the dull spirit that cannot be gained for it but by bathing it in blood1 afterward to wither back into stained and stiffened apathy2 and then that whole vast false heaven of sensual passion1 full of nymphs1 satyrs1 graces1 goddesses1 and ,i know not what1 from its high seventh circle in ,correggio's ,antiope1 down to the ,grecized ballet-dancers and smirking ,cupids of the ,parisian upholsterer4 ,sweep away all this1 remorselessly1 and see how much art we should have left4 ,,lx4 ,and yet these are only the grossest manifestations of the tendency of the school4 ,there are subtler1 yet not less certain1 signs of it in the works of men who stand high in the world's list of sacred painters4 ,i doubt not that the reader was surprised when ,i named ,murillo among the men of this third rank4 ,yet1 go into the ,dulwich ,gallery1 and meditate for a little over that much celebrated picture of the two beggar boys1 one eating lying on the ground1 the other standing beside him4 ,we have among our own painters one who cannot indeed be set beside ,murillo as a painter of ,madonnas1 for he is a pure ,naturalist1 and1 never having seen a ,madonna1 does not paint any2 but who1 as a painter of beggar or peasant boys1 may be set beside ,murillo1 or any one else1--,w4 ,hunt4 ,he loves peasant boys1 because he finds them more roughly and picturesquely dressed1 and more healthily colored1 than others4 ,and he paints all that he sees in them fearlessly2 all the health and humor1 and freshness1 and vitality1 together with such awkwardness and stupidity1 and what else of negative or positive harm there may be in the creature2 but yet so that on the whole we love it1 and find it perhaps even beautiful1 or if not1 at least we see that there is capability of good in it1 rather than of evil2 and all is lighted up by a sunshine and sweet color that makes the smock-frock as precious as cloth of gold4 ,but look at those two ragged and vicious vagrants that ,murillo has gathered out of the street4 ,you smile at first1 because they are eating so naturally1 and their roguery is so complete4 ,but is there anything else than roguery there1 or was it well for the painter to give his time to the painting of those repulsive and wicked children8 ,do you feel moved with any charity towards children as you look at them8 ,are we the least more likely to take any interest in ragged schools1 or to help the next pauper child that comes in our way1 because the painter has shown us a cunning beggar feeding greedily8 ,mark the choice of the act4 ,he might have shown hunger in other ways1 and given interest to even this act of eating1 by making the face wasted1 or the eye wistful4 ,but he did not care to do this4 ,he delighted merely in the disgusting manner of eating1 the food filling the cheek2 the boy is not hungry1 else he would not turn round to talk and grin as he eats4 ,,lxi4 ,but observe another point in the lower figure4 ,it lies so that the sole of the foot is turned towards the spectator2 not because it would have lain less easily in another attitude1 but that the painter may draw1 and exhibit1 the grey dust engrained in the foot4 ,do not call this the painting of nature3 it is mere delight in foulness4 ,the lesson1 if there be any1 in the picture1 is not one whit the stronger4 ,we all know that a beggar's bare foot cannot be clean2 there is no need to thrust its degradation into the light1 as if no human imagination were vigorous enough for its conception4 ,,lxii4 ,the position of the ,sensualists1 in treatment of landscape1 is less distinctly marked than in that of the figure3 because even the wildest passions of nature are noble3 but the inclination is manifested by carelessness in marking generic form in trees and flowers3 by their preferring confused and irregular arrangements of foliage or foreground to symmetrical and simple grouping2 by their general choice of such picturesqueness as results from decay1 disorder1 and disease1 rather than of that which is consistent with the perfection of the things in which it is found2 and by their imperfect rendering of the elements of strength and beauty in all things4 ,i propose to work out this subject fully in the last volume of ,modern ,painters2 but ,i trust that enough has been here said to enable the reader to understand the relations of the three great classes of artists1 and therefore also the kinds of morbid condition into which the two higher 7for the last has no other than a morbid condition7 are liable to fall4 ,for1 since the function of the ,naturalists is to represent1 as far as may be1 the whole of nature1 and the ,purists to represent what is absolutely good for some special purpose or time1 it is evident that both are liable to error from shortness of sight1 and the last also from weakness of judgment4 ,i say1 in the first place1 both may err from shortness of sight1 from not seeing all that there is in nature2 seeing only the outsides of things1 or those points of them which bear least on the matter in hand4 ,for instance1 a modern continental ,naturalist sees the anatomy of a limb thoroughly1 but does not see its color against the sky1 which latter fact is to a painter far the more important of the two4 ,and because it is always easier to see the surface than the depth of things1 the full sight of them requiring the highest powers of penetration1 sympathy1 and imagination1 the world is full of vulgar ,naturalists3 not ,sensualists1 observe1 not men who delight in evil2 but men who never see the deepest good1 and who bring discredit on all painting of ,nature by the little that they discover in her4 ,and the ,purist1 besides being liable to this same shortsightedness1 is liable also to fatal errors of judgment2 for he may think that good which is not so1 and that the highest good which is the least4 ,and thus the world is full of vulgar ,purists1#fd who bring discredit on all selection by the silliness of their choice2 and this the more1 because the very becoming a ,purist is commonly indicative of some slight degree of weakness1 readiness to be offended1 or narrowness of understanding of the ends of things3 the greatest men being1 in all times of art1 ,naturalists1 without any exception2 and the greatest ,purists being those who approach nearest to the ,naturalists1 as ,benozzo ,gozzoli and ,perugino4 ,hence there is a tendency in the ,naturalists to despise the ,purists1 and in the ,purists to be offended with the ,naturalists 7not understanding them1 and confounding them with the ,sensualists72 and this is grievously harmful to both4 ,,lxiii4 ,of the various forms of resultant mischief it is not here the place to speak3 the reader may already be somewhat wearied with a statement which has led us apparently so far from our immediate subject4 ,but the digression was necessary1 in order that ,i might clearly define the sense in which ,i use the word ,naturalism when ,i state it to be the third most essential characteristic of ,gothic architecture4 ,i mean that the ,gothic builders belong to the central or greatest rank in both the classifications of artists which we have just made2 that1 considering all artists as either men of design1 men of facts1 or men of both1 the ,gothic builders were men of both2 and that again1 considering all artists as either ,purists1 ,naturalists1 or ,sensualists1 the ,gothic builders were ,naturalists4 ,,lxiv4 ,i say first1 that the ,gothic builders were of that central class which unites fact with design2 but that the part of the work which was more especially their own was the truthfulness4 ,their power of artistical invention or arrangement was not greater than that of ,romanesque and ,byzantine workmen3 by those workmen they were taught the principles1 and from them received their models1 of design2 but to the ornamental feeling and rich fancy of the ,byzantine the ,gothic builder added a love of fact which is never found in the ,south4 ,both ,greek and ,roman used conventional foliage in their ornament1 passing into something that was not foliage at all1 knotting itself into strange cup-like buds or clusters1 and growing out of lifeless rods instead of stems2 the ,gothic sculptor received these types1 at first1 as things that ought to be1 just as we have a second time received them2 but he could not rest in them4 ,he saw there was no veracity in them1 no knowledge1 no vitality4 ,do what he would1 he could not help liking the true leaves better2 and cautiously1 a little at a time1 he put more of nature into his work1 until at last it was all true1 retaining1 nevertheless1 every valuable character of the original well-disciplined and designed arrangement4#fe ,,lxv4 ,nor is it only in external and visible subject that the ,gothic workman wrought for truth3 he is as firm in his rendering of imaginative as of actual truth2 that is to say1 when an idea would have been by a ,roman1 or ,byzantine1 symbolically represented1 the ,gothic mind realizes it to the utmost4 ,for instance1 the purgatorial fire is represented in the mosaic of ,torcello 7,romanesque7 as a red stream1 longitudinally striped like a riband1 descending out of the throne of ,christ1 and gradually extending itself to envelope the wicked4 ,when we are once informed what this means1 it is enough for its purpose2 but the ,gothic inventor does not leave the sign in need of interpretation4 ,he makes the fire as like real fire as he can2 and in the porch of ,st4 ,maclou at ,rouen the sculptured flames burst out of the ,hades gate1 and flicker up1 in writhing tongues of stone1 through the interstices of the niches1 as if the church itself were on fire4 ,this is an extreme instance1 but it is all the more illustrative of the entire difference in temper and thought between the two schools of art1 and of the intense love of veracity which influenced the ,gothic design4 ,,lxvi4 ,i do not say that this love of veracity is always healthy in its operation4 ,i have above noticed the errors into which it falls from despising design2 and there is another kind of error noticeable in the instance just given1 in which the love of truth is too hasty1 and seizes on a surface truth instead of an inner one4 ,for in representing the ,hades fire1 it is not the mere form of the flame which needs most to be told1 but its unquenchableness1 its ,divine ordainment and limitation1 and its inner fierceness1 not physical and material1 but in being the expression of the wrath of ,god4 ,and these things are not to be told by imitating the fire that flashes out of a bundle of sticks4 ,if we think over his symbol a little1 we shall perhaps find that the ,romanesque builder told more truth in that likeness of a blood-red stream1 flowing between definite shores and out of ,god's throne1 and expanding1 as if fed by a perpetual current1 into the lake wherein the wicked are cast1 than the ,gothic builder in those torch-flickerings about his niches4 ,but this is not to our immediate purpose2 ,i am not at present to insist upon the faults into which the love of truth was led in the later ,gothic times1 but on the feeling itself1 as a glorious and peculiar characteristic of the ,northern builders4 ,for1 observe1 it is not1 even in the above instance1 love of truth1 but want of thought1 which causes the fault4 ,the love of truth1 as such1 is good1 but when it is misdirected by thoughtlessness or over-excited by vanity1 and either seizes on facts of small value1 or gathers them chiefly that it may boast of its grasp and apprehension1 its work may well become dull or offensive4 ,yet let us not1 therefore1 blame the inherent love of facts1 but the incautiousness of their selection1 and impertinence of their statement4 ,,lxvii4 ,i said1 in the second place1 that ,gothic work1 when referred to the arrangement of all art1 as purist1 naturalist1 or sensualist1 was naturalist4 ,this character follows necessarily on its extreme love of truth1 prevailing over the sense of beauty1 and causing it to take delight in portraiture of every kind1 and to express the various characters of the human countenance and form1 as it did the varieties of leaves and the ruggedness of branches4 ,and this tendency is both increased and ennobled by the same ,christian humility which we saw expressed in the first character of ,gothic work1 its rudeness4 ,for as that resulted from a humility which confessed the imperfection of the workman1 so this naturalist portraiture is rendered more faithful by the humility which confesses the imperfection of the subject4 ,the ,greek sculptor could neither bear to confess his own feebleness1 nor to tell the faults of the forms that he portrayed4 ,but the ,christian workman1 believing that all is finally to work together for good1 freely confesses both1 and neither seeks to disguise his own roughness of work1 nor his subject's roughness of make4 ,yet this frankness being joined1 for the most part1 with depth of religious feeling in other directions1 and especially with charity1 there is sometimes a tendency to ,purism in the best ,gothic sculpture2 so that it frequently reaches great dignity of form and tenderness of expression1 yet never so as to lose the veracity of portraiture1 wherever portraiture is possible3 not exalting its kings into demi-gods1 nor its saints into archangels1 but giving what kingliness and sanctity was in them1 to the full1 mixed with due record of their faults2 and this in the most part with a great indifference like that of ,scripture history1 which sets down1 with unmoved and unexcusing resoluteness1 the virtues and errors of all men of whom it speaks1 often leaving the reader to form his own estimate of them1 without an indication of the judgment of the historian4 ,and this veracity is carried out by the ,gothic sculptors in the minuteness and generality1 as well as the equity1 of their delineation3 for they do not limit their art to the portraiture of saints and kings1 but introduce the most familiar scenes and most simple subjects2 filling up the backgrounds of ,scripture histories with vivid and curious representations of the commonest incidents of daily life1 and availing themselves of every occasion in which1 either as a symbol1 or an explanation of a scene or time1 the things familiar to the eye of the workman could be introduced and made of account4 ,hence ,gothic sculpture and painting are not only full of valuable portraiture of the greatest men1 but copious records of all the domestic customs and inferior arts of the ages in which it flourished4#ff ,,lxviii4 ,there is1 however1 one direction in which the ,naturalism of the ,gothic workmen is peculiarly manifested2 and this direction is even more characteristic of the school than the ,naturalism itself2 ,i mean their peculiar fondness for the forms of ,vegetation4 ,in rendering the various circumstances of daily life1 ,egyptian and ,ninevite sculpture is as frank and as diffuse as the ,gothic4 ,from the highest pomps of state or triumphs of battle1 to the most trivial domestic arts and amusements1 all is taken advantage of to fill the field of granite with the perpetual interest of a crowded drama2 and the early ,lombardic and ,romanesque sculpture is equally copious in its description of the familiar circumstances of war and the chase4 ,but in all the scenes portrayed by the workmen of these nations1 vegetation occurs only as an explanatory accessory2 the reed is introduced to mark the course of the river1 or the tree to mark the covert of the wild beast1 or the ambush of the enemy1 but there is no especial interest in the forms of the vegetation strong enough to induce them to make it a subject of separate and accurate study4 ,again1 among the nations who followed the arts of design exclusively1 the forms of foliage introduced were meagre and general1 and their real intricacy and life were neither admired nor expressed4 ,but to the ,gothic workman the living foliage became a subject of intense affection1 and he struggled to render all its characters with as much accuracy as was compatible with the laws of his design and the nature of his material1 not unfrequently tempted in his enthusiasm to transgress the one and disguise the other4 ,,lxix4 ,there is a peculiar significancy in this1 indicative both of higher civilization and gentler temperament1 than had before been manifested in architecture4 ,rudeness1 and the love of change1 which we have insisted upon as the first elements of ,gothic1 are also elements common to all healthy schools4 ,but here is a softer element mingled with them1 peculiar to the ,gothic itself4 ,the rudeness or ignorance which would have been painfully exposed in the treatment of the human form1 are still not so great as to prevent the successful rendering of the wayside herbage2 and the love of change1 which becomes morbid and feverish in following the haste of the hunter1 and the rage of the combatant1 is at once soothed and satisfied as it watches the wandering of the tendril1 and the budding of the flower4 ,nor is this all3 the new direction of mental interest marks an infinite change in the means and the habits of life4 ,the nations whose chief support was in the chase1 whose chief interest was in the battle1 whose chief pleasure was in the banquet1 would take small care respecting the shapes of leaves and flowers2 and notice little in the forms of the forest trees which sheltered them1 except the signs indicative of the wood which would make the toughest lance1 the closest roof1 or the clearest fire4 ,the affectionate observation of the grace and outward character of vegetation is the sure sign of a more tranquil and gentle existence1 sustained by the gifts1 and gladdened by the splendor1 of the earth4 ,in that careful distinction of species1 and richness of delicate and undisturbed organization1 which characterize the ,gothic design1 there is the history of rural and thoughtful life1 influenced by habitual tenderness1 and devoted to subtle inquiry2 and every discriminating and delicate touch of the chisel1 as it rounds the petal or guides the branch1 is a prophecy of the developement of the entire body of the natural sciences1 beginning with that of medicine1 of the recovery of literature1 and the establishment of the most necessary principles of domestic wisdom and national peace4 ,,lxx4 ,i have before alluded to the strange and vain supposition1 that the original conception of ,gothic architecture had been derived from vegetation1--from the symmetry of avenues1 and the interlacing of branches4 ,it is a supposition which never could have existed for a moment in the mind of any person acquainted with early ,gothic2 but1 however idle as a theory1 it is most valuable as a testimony to the character of the perfected style4 ,it is precisely because the reverse of this theory is the fact1 because the ,gothic did not arise out of1 but develope itself into1 a resemblance to vegetation1 that this resemblance is so instructive as an indication of the temper of the builders4 ,it was no chance suggestion of the form of an arch from the bending of a bough1 but a gradual and continual discovery of a beauty in natural forms which could be more and more perfectly transferred into those of stone1 that influenced at once the heart of the people1 and the form of the edifice4 ,the ,gothic architecture arose in massy and mountainous strength1 axe-hewn1 and iron-bound1 block heaved upon block by the monk's enthusiasm and the soldier's force2 and cramped and stanchioned into such weight of grisly wall1 as might bury the anchoret in darkness1 and beat back the utmost storm of battle1 suffering but by the same narrow crosslet the passing of the sunbeam1 or of the arrow4 ,gradually1 as that monkish enthusiasm became more thoughtful1 and as the sound of war became more and more intermittent beyond the gates of the convent or the keep1 the stony pillar grew slender and the vaulted roof grew light1 till they had wreathed themselves into the semblance of the summer woods at their fairest1 and of the dead field-flowers1 long trodden down in blood1 sweet monumental statues were set to bloom for ever1 beneath the porch of the temple1 or the canopy of the tomb4 ,,lxxi4 ,nor is it only as a sign of greater gentleness or refinement of mind1 but as a proof of the best possible direction of this refinement1 that the tendency of the ,gothic to the expression of vegetative life is to be admired4 ,that sentence of ,genesis1 ,i have given thee every green herb for meat1 like all the rest of the book1 has a profound symbolical as well as a literal meaning4 ,it is not merely the nourishment of the body1 but the food of the soul1 that is intended4 ,the green herb is1 of all nature1 that which is most essential to the healthy spiritual life of man4 ,most of us do not need fine scenery2 the precipice and the mountain peak are not intended to be seen by all men1--perhaps their power is greatest over those who are unaccustomed to them4 ,but trees1 and fields1 and flowers were made for all1 and are necessary for all4 ,god has connected the labor which is essential to the bodily sustenance1 with the pleasures which are healthiest for the heart2 and while ,he made the ground stubborn1 ,he made its herbage fragrant1 and its blossoms fair4 ,the proudest architecture that man can build has no higher honor than to bear the image and recall the memory of that grass of the field which is1 at once1 the type and the support of his existence2 the goodly building is then most glorious when it is sculptured into the likeness of the leaves of ,paradise2 and the great ,gothic spirit1 as we showed it to be noble in its disquietude1 is also noble in its hold of nature2 it is1 indeed1 like the dove of ,noah1 in that she found no rest upon the face of the waters1--but like her in this also1 ,,lo1 ,,in ,,her ,,mouth ,,was ,,an ,,olive ,,branch1 ,,plucked ,,off4 ,,lxxii4 ,the fourth essential element of the ,gothic mind was above stated to be the sense of the ,,grotesque2 but ,i shall defer the endeavor to define this most curious and subtle character until we have occasion to examine one of the divisions of the ,renaissance schools1 which was morbidly influenced by it 7,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,iii474 ,it is the less necessary to insist upon it here1 because every reader familiar with ,gothic architecture must understand what ,i mean1 and will1 ,i believe1 have no hesitation in admitting that the tendency to delight in fantastic and ludicrous1 as well as in sublime1 images1 is a universal instinct of the ,gothic imagination4 ,,lxxiii4 ,the fifth element above named was ,,rigidity2 and this character ,i must endeavor carefully to define1 for neither the word ,i have used1 nor any other that ,i can think of1 will express it accurately4 ,for ,i mean1 not merely stable1 but active rigidity2 the peculiar energy which gives tension to movement1 and stiffness to resistance1 which makes the fiercest lightning forked rather than curved1 and the stoutest oak-branch angular rather than bending1 and is as much seen in the quivering of the lance as in the glittering of the icicle4 ,,lxxiv4 ,i have before had occasion 7,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,,xiii4 ,,vii47 to note some manifestations of this energy or fixedness2 but it must be still more attentively considered here1 as it shows itself throughout the whole structure and decoration of ,gothic work4 ,egyptian and ,greek buildings stand1 for the most part1 by their own weight and mass1 one stone passively incumbent on another3 but in the ,gothic vaults and traceries there is a stiffness analogous to that of the bones of a limb1 or fibres of a tree2 an elastic tension and communication of force from part to part1 and also a studious expression of this throughout every visible line of the building4 ,and1 in like manner1 the ,greek and ,egyptian ornament is either mere surface engraving1 as if the face of the wall had been stamped with a seal1 or its lines are flowing1 lithe1 and luxuriant2 in either case1 there is no expression of energy in framework of the ornament itself4 ,but the ,gothic ornament stands out in prickly independence1 and frosty fortitude1 jutting into crockets1 and freezing into pinnacles2 here starting up into a monster1 there germinating into a blossom2 anon knitting itself into a branch1 alternately thorny1 bossy1 and bristly1 or writhed into every form of nervous entanglement2 but1 even when most graceful1 never for an instant languid1 always quickset2 erring1 if at all1 ever on the side of brusquerie4 ,,lxxv4 ,the feelings or habits in the workman which give rise to this character in the work1 are more complicated and various than those indicated by any other sculptural expression hitherto named4 ,there is1 first1 the habit of hard and rapid working2 the industry of the tribes of the ,north1 quickened by the coldness of the climate1 and giving an expression of sharp energy to all they do 7as above noted1 ,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,,xiii4 ,,vii471 as opposed to the languor of the ,southern tribes1 however much of fire there may be in the heart of that languor1 for lava itself may flow languidly4 ,there is also the habit of finding enjoyment in the signs of cold1 which is never found1 ,i believe1 in the inhabitants of countries south of the ,alps4 ,cold is to them an unredeemed evil1 to be suffered1 and forgotten as soon as may be2 but the long winter of the ,north forces the ,goth 7,i mean the ,englishman1 ,frenchman1 ,dane1 or ,german71 if he would lead a happy life at all1 to find sources of happiness in foul weather as well as fair1 and to rejoice in the leafless as well as in the shady forest4 ,and this we do with all our hearts2 finding perhaps nearly as much contentment by the ,christmas fire as in the summer sunshine1 and gaining health and strength on the ice-fields of winter1 as well as among the meadows of spring4 ,so that there is nothing adverse or painful to our feelings in the cramped and stiffened structure of vegetation checked by cold2 and instead of seeking1 like the ,southern sculptor1 to express only the softness of leafage nourished in all tenderness1 and tempted into all luxuriance by warm winds and glowing rays1 we find pleasure in dwelling upon the crabbed1 perverse1 and morose animation of plants that have known little kindness from earth or heaven1 but1 season after season1 have had their best efforts palsied by frost1 their brightest buds buried under snow1 and their goodliest limbs lopped by tempest4 ,,lxxvi4 ,there are many subtle sympathies and affections which join to confirm the ,gothic mind in this peculiar choice of subject2 and when we add to the influence of these1 the necessities consequent upon the employment of a rougher material1 compelling the workman to seek for vigor of effect1 rather than refinement of texture or accuracy of form1 we have direct and manifest causes for much of the difference between the northern and southern cast of conception3 but there are indirect causes holding a far more important place in the ,gothic heart1 though less immediate in their influence on design4 ,strength of will1 independence of character1 resoluteness of purpose1 impatience of undue control1 and that general tendency to set the individual reason against authority1 and the individual deed against destiny1 which1 in the ,northern tribes1 has opposed itself throughout all ages to the languid submission1 in the ,southern1 of thought to tradition1 and purpose to fatality1 are all more or less traceable in the rigid lines1 vigorous and various masses1 and daringly projecting and independent structure of the ,northern ,gothic ornament3 while the opposite feelings are in like manner legible in the graceful and softly guided waves and wreathed bands1 in which ,southern decoration is constantly disposed2 in its tendency to lose its independence1 and fuse itself into the surface of the masses upon which it is traced2 and in the expression seen so often1 in the arrangement of those masses themselves1 of an abandonment of their strength to an inevitable necessity1 or a listless repose4 ,,lxxvii4 ,there is virtue in the measure1 and error in the excess1 of both these characters of mind1 and in both of the styles which they have created2 the best architecture1 and the best temper1 are those which unite them both2 and this fifth impulse of the ,gothic heart is therefore that which needs most caution in its indulgence4 ,it is more definitely ,gothic than any other1 but the best ,gothic building is not that which is most ,gothic3 it can hardly be too frank in its confession of rudeness1 hardly too rich in its changefulness1 hardly too faithful in its naturalism2 but it may go too far in its rigidity1 and1 like the great ,puritan spirit in its extreme1 lose itself either in frivolity of division1 or perversity of purpose4#fg ,it actually did so in its later times2 but it is gladdening to remember that in its utmost nobleness1 the very temper which has been thought most adverse to it1 the ,protestant spirit of self-dependence and inquiry1 was expressed in its every line4 ,faith and aspiration there were1 in every ,christian ecclesiastical building1 from the first century to the fifteenth2 but the moral habits to which ,england in this age owes the kind of greatness that she has1--the habits of philosophical investigation1 of accurate thought1 of domestic seclusion and independence1 of stern self-reliance1 and sincere upright searching into religious truth1--were only traceable in the features which were the distinctive creation of the ,gothic schools1 in the veined foliage1 and thorny fretwork1 and shadowy niche1 and buttressed pier1 and fearless height of subtle pinnacle and crested tower1 sent like an unperplexed question up to ,heaven4#fh ,,lxxviii4 ,last1 because the least essential1 of the constituent elements of this noble school1 was placed that of ,,redundance1--the uncalculating bestowal of the wealth of its labor4 ,there is1 indeed1 much ,gothic1 and that of the best period1 in which this element is hardly traceable1 and which depends for its effect almost exclusively on loveliness of simple design and grace of uninvolved proportion3 still1 in the most characteristic buildings1 a certain portion of their effect depends upon accumulation of ornament2 and many of those which have most influence on the minds of men1 have attained it by means of this attribute alone4 ,and although1 by careful study of the school1 it is possible to arrive at a condition of taste which shall be better contented by a few perfect lines than by a whole faade covered with fretwork1 the building which only satisfies such a taste is not to be considered the best4 ,for the very first requirement of ,gothic architecture being1 as we saw above1 that it shall both admit the aid1 and appeal to the admiration1 of the rudest as well as the most refined minds1 the richness of the work is1 paradoxical as the statement may appear1 a part of its humility4 ,no architecture is so haughty as that which is simple2 which refuses to address the eye1 except in a few clear and forceful lines2 which implies1 in offering so little to our regards1 that all it has offered is perfect2 and disdains1 either by the complexity or the attractiveness of its features1 to embarrass our investigation1 or betray us into delight4 ,that humility1 which is the very life of the ,gothic school1 is shown not only in the imperfection1 but in the accumulation1 of ornament4 ,the inferior rank of the workman is often shown as much in the richness1 as the roughness1 of his work2 and if the co-operation of every hand1 and the sympathy of every heart1 are to be received1 we must be content to allow the redundance which disguises the failure of the feeble1 and wins the regard of the inattentive4 ,there are1 however1 far nobler interests mingling1 in the ,gothic heart1 with the rude love of decorative accumulation3 a magnificent enthusiasm1 which feels as if it never could do enough to reach the fulness of its ideal2 an unselfishness of sacrifice1 which would rather cast fruitless labor before the altar than stand idle in the market2 and1 finally1 a profound sympathy with the fulness and wealth of the material universe1 rising out of that ,naturalism whose operation we have already endeavored to define4 ,the sculptor who sought for his models among the forest leaves1 could not but quickly and deeply feel that complexity need not involve the loss of grace1 nor richness that of repose2 and every hour which he spent in the study of the minute and various work of ,nature1 made him feel more forcibly the barrenness of what was best in that of man3 nor is it to be wondered at1 that1 seeing her perfect and exquisite creations poured forth in a profusion which conception could not grasp nor calculation sum1 he should think that it ill became him to be niggardly of his own rude craftsmanship2 and where he saw throughout the universe a faultless beauty lavished on measureless spaces of broidered field and blooming mountain1 to grudge his poor and imperfect labor to the few stones that he had raised one upon another1 for habitation or memorial4 ,the years of his life passed away before his task was accomplished2 but generation succeeded generation with unwearied enthusiasm1 and the cathedral front was at last lost in the tapestry of its traceries1 like a rock among the thickets and herbage of spring4 ,,lxxix4 ,we have now1 ,i believe1 obtained a view approaching to completeness of the various moral or imaginative elements which composed the inner spirit of ,gothic architecture4 ,we have1 in the second place1 to define its outward form4 ,now1 as the ,gothic spirit is made up of several elements1 some of which may1 in particular examples1 be wanting1 so the ,gothic form is made up of minor conditions of form1 some of which may1 in particular examples1 be imperfectly developed4 ,we cannot say1 therefore1 that a building is either ,gothic or not ,gothic in form1 any more than we can in spirit4 ,we can only say that it is more or less ,gothic1 in proportion to the number of ,gothic forms which it unites4 ,,lxxx4 ,there have been made lately many subtle and ingenious endeavors to base the definition of ,gothic form entirely upon the roof-vaulting2 endeavors which are both forced and futile3 for many of the best ,gothic buildings in the world have roofs of timber1 which have no more connexion with the main structure of the walls of the edifice than a hat has with that of the head it protects2 and other ,gothic buildings are merely enclosures of spaces1 as ramparts and walls1 or enclosures of gardens or cloisters1 and have no roofs at all1 in the sense in which the word roof is commonly accepted4 ,but every reader who has ever taken the slightest interest in architecture must know that there is a great popular impression on this matter1 which maintains itself stiffly in its old form1 in spite of all ratiocination and definition2 namely1 that a flat lintel from pillar to pillar is ,grecian1 a round arch ,norman or ,romanesque1 and a pointed arch ,gothic4 ,and the old popular notion1 as far as it goes1 is perfectly right1 and can never be bettered4 ,the most striking outward feature in all ,gothic architecture is1 that it is composed of pointed arches1 as in ,romanesque that it is in like manner composed of round2 and this distinction would be quite as clear1 though the roofs were taken off every cathedral in ,europe4 ,and yet1 if we examine carefully into the real force and meaning of the term roof we shall perhaps be able to retain the old popular idea in a definition of ,gothic architecture which shall also express whatever dependence that architecture has upon true forms of roofing4 ,,lxxxi4 ,in ,chap4 ,,xiii4 of the first volume1 the reader will remember that roofs were considered as generally divided into two parts2 the roof proper1 that is to say1 the shell1 vault1 or ceiling1 internally visible2 and the roof-mask1 which protects this lower roof from the weather4 ,in some buildings these parts are united in one framework2 but1 in most1 they are more or less independent of each other1 and in nearly all ,gothic buildings there is considerable interval between them4 ,now it will often happen1 as above noticed1 that owing to the nature of the apartments required1 or the materials at hand1 the roof proper may be flat1 coved1 or domed1 in buildings which in their walls employ pointed arches1 and are1 in the straitest sense of the word1 ,gothic in all other respects4 ,yet so far forth as the roofing alone is concerned1 they are not ,gothic unless the pointed arch be the principal form adopted either in the stone vaulting or the timbers of the roof proper4 ,i shall say then1 in the first place1 that ,gothic architecture is that which uses1 if possible1 the pointed arch in the roof proper4 ,this is the first step in our definition4 ,,lxxxii4 ,secondly4 ,although there may be many advisable or necessary forms for the lower roof or ceiling1 there is1 in cold countries exposed to rain and snow1 only one advisable form for the roof-mask1 and that is the gable1 for this alone will throw off both rain and snow from all parts of its surface as speedily as possible4 ,snow can lodge on the top of a dome1 not on the ridge of a gable4 ,and thus1 as far as roofing is concerned1 the gable is a far more essential feature of ,northern architecture than the pointed vault1 for the one is a thorough necessity1 the other often a graceful conventionality3 the gable occurs in the timber roof of every dwelling-house and every cottage1 but not the vault2 and the gable built on a polygonal or circular plan1 is the origin of the turret and spire2#fi and all the so-called aspiration of ,gothic architecture is1 as above noticed 7,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,,xii4 ,,vi471 nothing more than its developement4 ,so that we must add to our definition another clause1 which will be1 at present1 by far the most important1 and it will stand thus3 ,gothic architecture is that which uses the pointed arch for the roof proper1 and the gable for the roof-mask4 ,,lxxxiii4 ,and here1 in passing1 let us notice a principle as true in architecture as in morals4 ,it is not the compelled1 but the wilful1 transgression of law which corrupts the character4 ,sin is not in the act1 but in the choice4 ,it is a law for ,gothic architecture1 that it shall use the pointed arch for its roof proper2 but because1 in many cases of domestic building1 this becomes impossible for want of room 7the whole height of the apartment being required everywhere71 or in various other ways inconvenient1 flat ceilings may be used1 and yet the ,gothic shall not lose its purity4 ,but in the roof-mask1 there can be no necessity nor reason for a change of form3 the gable is the best2 and if any other--dome1 or bulging crown1 or whatsoever else--be employed at all1 it must be in pure caprice1 and wilful transgression of law4 ,and wherever1 therefore1 this is done1 the ,gothic has lost its character2 it is pure ,gothic no more4 ,,lxxxiv4 ,and this last clause of the definition is to be more strongly insisted upon1 because it includes multitudes of buildings1 especially domestic1 which are ,gothic in spirit1 but which we are not in the habit of embracing in our general conception of ,gothic architecture2 multitudes of street dwelling-houses and straggling country farm-houses1 built with little care for beauty1 or observance of ,gothic laws in vaults or windows1 and yet maintaining their character by the sharp and quaint gables of the roofs4 ,and1 for the reason just given1 a house is far more ,gothic which has square windows1 and a boldly gabled roof1 than the one which has pointed arches for the windows1 and a domed or flat roof4 ,for it often happened in the best ,gothic times1 as it must in all times1 that it was more easy and convenient to make a window square than pointed2 not but that1 as above emphatically stated1 the richness of church architecture was also found in domestic2 and systematically when the pointed arch was used in the church it was used in the street1 only in all times there were cases in which men could not build as they would1 and were obliged to construct their doors or windows in the readiest way2 and this readiest way was then1 in small work1 as it will be to the end of time1 to put a flat stone for a lintel and build the windows as in ,fig4 ,,viii42 and the occurrence of such windows in a building or a street will not un-,gothicize them1 so long as the bold gable roof be retained1 and the spirit of the work be visibly ,gothic in other respects4 ,but if the roof be wilfully and conspicuously of any other form than the gable1--if it be domed1 or ,turkish1 or ,chinese1--the building has positive corruption mingled with its ,gothic elements1 in proportion to the conspicuousness of the roof2 and1 if not absolutely un-,gothicized1 can maintain its character only by such vigor of vital ,gothic energy in other parts as shall cause the roof to be forgotten1 thrown off like an eschar from the living frame4 ,nevertheless1 we must always admit that it may be forgotten1 and that if the ,gothic seal be indeed set firmly on the walls1 we are not to cavil at the forms reserved for the tiles and leads4 ,for1 observe1 as our definition at present stands1 being understood of large roofs only1 it will allow a conical glass-furnace to be a ,gothic building1 but will not allow so much1 either of the ,duomo of ,florence1 or the ,baptistery of ,pisa4 ,we must either mend it1 therefore1 or understand it in some broader sense4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,viii4 ,,lxxxv4 ,and now1 if the reader will look back to the fifth paragraph of ,chap4 ,,iii4 ,vol4 ,i41 he will find that ,i carefully extended my definition of a roof so as to include more than is usually understood by the term4 ,it was there said to be the covering of a space1 narrow or wide4 ,it does not in the least signify1 with respect to the real nature of the covering1 whether the space protected be two feet wide1 or ten2 though in the one case we call the protection an arch1 in the other a vault or roof4 ,but the real point to be considered is1 the manner in which this protection stands1 and not whether it is narrow or broad4 ,we call the vaulting of a bridge an arch1 because it is narrow with respect to the river it crosses2 but if it were built above us on the ground1 we should call it a waggon vault1 because then we should feel the breadth of it4 ,the real question is the nature of the curve1 not the extent of space over which it is carried3 and this is more the case with respect to ,gothic than to any other architecture2 for1 in the greater number of instances1 the form of the roof is entirely dependent on the ribs2 the domical shells being constructed in all kinds of inclinations1 quite undeterminable by the eye1 and all that is definite in their character being fixed by the curves of the ribs4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,ix4 ,,lxxxvi4 ,let us then consider our definition as including the narrowest arch1 or tracery bar1 as well as the broadest roof1 and it will be nearly a perfect one4 ,for the fact is1 that all good ,gothic is nothing more than the developement1 in various ways1 and on every conceivable scale1 of the group formed by the pointed arch for the bearing line below1 and the gable for the protecting line above2 and from the huge1 gray1 shaly slope of the cathedral roof1 with its elastic pointed vaults beneath1 to the slight crown-like points that enrich the smallest niche of its doorway1 one law and one expression will be found in all4 ,the modes of support and of decoration are infinitely various1 but the real character of the building1 in all good ,gothic1 depends upon the single lines of the gable over the pointed arch1 ,fig4 ,,ix41 endlessly rearranged or repeated4 ,the larger woodcut1 ,fig4 ,x41 represents three characteristic conditions of the treatment of the group3 a1 from a tomb at ,verona 7#acbh72 b1 one of the lateral porches at ,abbeville2 c1 one of the uppermost points of the great western faade of ,rouen ,cathedral2 both these last being1 ,i believe1 early work of the fifteenth century4 ,the forms of the pure early ,english and ,french ,gothic are too well known to need any notice2 my reason will appear presently for choosing1 by way of example1 these somewhat rare conditions4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,x4 ,,lxxxvii4 ,but1 first1 let us try whether we cannot get the forms of the other great architectures of the world broadly expressed by relations of the same lines into which we have compressed the ,gothic4 ,we may easily do this if the reader will first allow me to remind him of the true nature of the pointed arch1 as it was expressed in ,x4 ,chap4 ,x4 of the first volume4 ,it was said there1 that it ought to be called a curved gable1 for1 strictly speaking1 an arch cannot be pointed4 ,the so-called pointed arch ought always to be considered as a gable1 with its sides curved in order to enable them to bear pressure from without4 ,thus considering it1 there are but three ways in which an interval between piers can be bridged1--the three ways represented by ,a1 ,b1 and ,c1 ,fig4 ,,xi41#gj on page #bac1--;,a1 the lintel2 ,b1 the round arch2 ,c1 the gable4 ,all the architects in the world will never discover any other ways of bridging a space than these three2 they may vary the curve of the arch1 or curve the sides of the gable1 or break them2 but in doing this they are merely modifying or subdividing1 not adding to the generic forms4 ,,lxxxviii4 ,now there are three good architectures in the world1 and there never can be more1 correspondent to each of these three simple ways of covering in a space1 which is the original function of all architectures4 ,and those three architectures are pure exactly in proportion to the simplicity and directness with which they express the condition of roofing on which they are founded4 ,they have many interesting varieties1 according to their scale1 manner of decoration1 and character of the nations by whom they are practised1 but all their varieties are finally referable to the three great heads3-- ,a1 ,greek3 ,architecture of the ,lintel4 ,b1 ,romanesque3 ,architecture of the ,round ,arch4 ,c1 ,gothic3 ,architecture of the ,gable4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xi4 ,the three names1 ,greek1 ,romanesque1 and ,gothic1 are indeed inaccurate when used in this vast sense1 because they imply national limitations2 but the three architectures may nevertheless not unfitly receive their names from those nations by whom they were carried to the highest perfections4 ,we may thus briefly state their existing varieties4 ,,lxxxix4 ,a4 ,,greek3 ,lintel ,architecture4 ,the worst of the three2 and1 considered with reference to stone construction1 always in some measure barbarous4 ,its simplest type is ,stonehenge2 its most refined1 the ,parthenon2 its noblest1 the ,temple of ,karnak4 ,in the hands of the ,egyptian1 it is sublime2 in those of the ,greek1 pure2 in those of the ,roman1 rich2 and in those of the ,renaissance builder1 effeminate4 ,b4 ,,romanesque3 ,round-arch ,architecture4 ,never thoroughly developed until ,christian times4 ,it falls into two great branches1 ,eastern and ,western1 or ,byzantine and ,lombardic2 changing respectively in process of time1 with certain helps from each other1 into ,arabian ,gothic and ,teutonic ,gothic4 ,its most perfect ,lombardic type is the ,duomo of ,pisa2 its most perfect ,byzantine type 7,i believe71 ,st4 ,mark's at ,venice4 ,its highest glory is1 that it has no corruption4 ,it perishes in giving birth to another architecture as noble as itself4 ,c4 ,,gothic3 ,architecture of the ,gable4 ,the daughter of the ,romanesque2 and1 like the ,romanesque1 divided into two great branches1 ,western and ,eastern1 or pure ,gothic and ,arabian ,gothic2 of which the latter is called ,gothic1 only because it has many ,gothic forms1 pointed arches1 vaults1 c41 but its spirit remains ,byzantine1 more especially in the form of the roof-mask1 of which1 with respect to these three great families1 we have next to determine the typical form4 ,,xc4 ,for1 observe1 the distinctions we have hitherto been stating1 depend on the form of the stones first laid from pier to pier2 that is to say1 of the simplest condition of roofs proper4 ,adding the relations of the roof-mask to these lines1 we shall have the perfect type of form for each school4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xii4 ,in the ,greek1 the ,western ,romanesque1 and ,western ,gothic1 the roof-mask is the gable3 in the ,eastern ,romanesque1 and ,eastern ,gothic1 it is the dome3 but ,i have not studied the roofing of either of these last two groups1 and shall not venture to generalize them in a diagram4 ,but the three groups1 in the hands of the ,western builders1 may be thus simply represented3 a1 ,fig4 ,,xii41 ,greek2#ga b1 ,western ,romanesque2 c1 ,western1 or true1 ,gothic4 ,now1 observe1 first1 that the relation of the roof-mask to the roof proper1 in the ,greek type1 forms that pediment which gives its most striking character to the temple1 and is the principal recipient of its sculptural decoration4 ,the relation of these lines1 therefore1 is just as important in the ,greek as in the ,gothic schools4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xiii4 ,,xci4 ,secondly1 the reader must observe the difference of steepness in the ,romanesque and ,gothic gables4 ,this is not an unimportant distinction1 nor an undecided one4 ,the ,romanesque gable does not pass gradually into the more elevated form2 there is a great gulf between the two2 the whole effect of all ,southern architecture being dependent upon the use of the flat gable1 and of all ,northern upon that of the acute4 ,i need not here dwell upon the difference between the lines of an ,italian village1 or the flat tops of most ,italian towers1 and the peaked gables and spires of the ,north1 attaining their most fantastic developement1 ,i believe1 in ,belgium3 but it may be well to state the law of separation1 namely1 that a ,gothic gable must have all its angles acute1 and a ,romanesque one must have the upper one obtuse3 or1 to give the reader a simple practical rule1 take any gable1 a or b1 ,fig4 ,,xiii41 and strike a semicircle on its base2 if its top rises above the semicircle1 as at b1 it is a ,gothic gable2 if it falls beneath it1 a ,romanesque one2 but the best forms in each group are those which are distinctly steep1 or distinctly low4 ,in the figure f is1 perhaps1 the average of ,romanesque slope1 and g of ,gothic4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xiv4 ,,xcii4 ,but although we do not find a transition from one school into the other in the slope of the gables1 there is often a confusion between the two schools in the association of the gable with the arch below it4 ,it has just been stated that the pure ,romanesque condition is the round arch under the low gable1 a1 ,fig4 ,,xiv41 and the pure ,gothic condition is the pointed arch under the high gable1 b4 ,but in the passage from one style to the other1 we sometimes find the two conditions reversed2 the pointed arch under a low gable1 as d1 or the round arch under a high gable1 as c4 ,the form d occurs in the tombs of ,verona1 and c in the doors of ,venice4 ,,xciii4 ,we have thus determined the relation of ,gothic to the other architectures of the world1 as far as regards the main lines of its construction2 but there is still one word which needs to be added to our definition of its form1 with respect to a part of its decoration1 which rises out of that construction4 ,we have seen that the first condition of its form is1 that it shall have pointed arches4 ,when ,gothic is perfect1 therefore1 it will follow that the pointed arches must be built in the strongest possible manner4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xv4 ,now1 if the reader will look back to ,chapter ,,xi4 of ,vol4 ,i41 he will find the subject of the masonry of the pointed arch discussed at length1 and the conclusion deduced1 that of all possible forms of the pointed arch 7a certain weight of material being given71 that generically represented at e1 ,fig4 ,,xv41 is the strongest4 ,in fact1 the reader can see in a moment that the weakness of the pointed arch is in its flanks1 and that by merely thickening them gradually at this point all chance of fracture is removed4 ,or1 perhaps1 more simply still3--,suppose a gable built of stone1 as at a1 and pressed upon from without by a weight in the direction of the arrow1 clearly it would be liable to fall in1 as at b4 ,to prevent this1 we make a pointed arch of it1 as at c2 and now it cannot fall inwards1 but if pressed upon from above may give way outwards1 as at d4 ,but at last we build as at e1 and now it can neither fall out nor in4 ,,xciv4 ,the forms of arch thus obtained1 with a pointed projection called a cusp on each side1 must for ever be delightful to the human mind1 as being expressive of the utmost strength and permanency obtainable with a given mass of material4 ,but it was not by any such process of reasoning1 nor with any reference to laws of construction1 that the cusp was originally invented4 ,it is merely the special application to the arch of the great ornamental system of ,,foliation2 or the adaptation of the forms of leafage which has been above insisted upon as the principal characteristic of ,gothic ,naturalism4 ,this love of foliage was exactly proportioned1 in its intensity1 to the increase of strength in the ,gothic spirit3 in the ,southern ,gothic it is soft leafage that is most loved2 in the ,northern thorny leafage4 ,and if we take up any ,northern illuminated manuscript of the great ,gothic time1 we shall find every one of its leaf ornaments surrounded by a thorny structure laid round it in gold or in color2 sometimes apparently copied faithfully from the prickly developement of the root of the leaf in the thistle1 running along the stems and branches exactly as the thistle leaf does along its own stem1 and with sharp spines proceeding from the points1 as in ,fig4 ,,xvi4 ,at other times1 and for the most part in work in the thirteenth century1 the golden ground takes the form of pure and severe cusps1 sometimes enclosing the leaves1 sometimes filling up the forks of the branches 7as in the example fig4 #a1 ,plate ,i4 ,vol4 ,,iii471 passing imperceptibly from the distinctly vegetable condition 7in which it is just as certainly representative of the thorn1 as other parts of the design are of the bud1 leaf1 and fruit7 into the crests on the necks1 or the membranous sails of the wings1 of serpents1 dragons1 and other grotesques1 as in ,fig4 ,,xvii41 and into rich and vague fantasies of curvature2 among which1 however1 the pure cusped system of the pointed arch is continually discernible1 not accidentally1 but designedly indicated1 and connecting itself with the literally architectural portions of the design4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xvi4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xvii4 ,,xcv4 ,the system1 then1 of what is called ,foliation1 whether simple1 as in the cusped arch1 or complicated1 as in tracery1 rose out of this love of leafage2 not that the form of the arch is intended to imitate a leaf1 but to be invested with the same characters of beauty which the designer had discovered in the leaf4 ,observe1 there is a wide difference between these two intentions4 ,the idea that large ,gothic structure1 in arches and roofs1 was intended to imitate vegetation is1 as above noticed1 untenable for an instant in the front of facts4 ,but the ,gothic builder perceived that1 in the leaves which he copied for his minor decorations1 there was a peculiar beauty1 arising from certain characters of curvature in outline1 and certain methods of subdivision and of radiation in structure4 ,on a small scale1 in his sculptures and his missal-painting1 he copied the leaf or thorn itself2 on a large scale he adopted from it its abstract sources of beauty1 and gave the same kinds of curvatures and the same species of subdivision to the outline of his arches1 so far as was consistent with their strength1 never1 in any single instance1 suggesting the resemblance to leafage by irregularity of outline1 but keeping the structure perfectly simple1 and1 as we have seen1 so consistent with the best principles of masonry1 that in the finest ,gothic designs of arches1 which are always single cusped 7the cinquefoiled arch being licentious1 though in early work often very lovely71 it is literally impossible1 without consulting the context of the building1 to say whether the cusps have been added for the sake of beauty or of strength2 nor1 though in medival architecture they were1 ,i believe1 assuredly first employed in mere love of their picturesque form1 am ,i absolutely certain that their earliest invention was not a structural effort4 ,for the earliest cusps with which ,i am acquainted are those used in the vaults of the great galleries of the ,serapeum1 discovered in #ahej by ,m4 ,maniette at ,memphis1 and described by ,colonel ,hamilton in a paper read in ,february last before the ,royal ,society of ,literature4#gb ,the roofs of its galleries were admirably shown in ,colonel ,hamilton's drawings made to scale upon the spot1 and their profile is a cusped round arch1 perfectly pure and simple2 but whether thrown into this form for the sake of strength or of grace1 ,i am unable to say4 ,,xcvi4 ,it is evident1 however1 that the structural advantage of the cusp is available only in the case of arches on a comparatively small scale4 ,if the arch becomes very large1 the projections under the flanks must become too ponderous to be secure2 the suspended weight of stone would be liable to break off1 and such arches are therefore never constructed with heavy cusps1 but rendered secure by general mass of masonry2 and what additional appearance of support may be thought necessary 7sometimes a considerable degree of actual support7 is given by means of tracery4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xviii4 ,,xcvii4 ,of what ,i stated in the second chapter of the ,seven ,lamps respecting the nature of tracery1 ,i need repeat here only this much1 that it began in the use of penetrations through the stone-work of windows or walls1 cut into forms which looked like stars when seen from within1 and like leaves when seen from without3 the name foil or feuille being universally applied to the separate lobes of their extremities1 and the pleasure received from them being the same as that which we feel in the triple1 quadruple1 or other radiated leaves of vegetation1 joined with the perception of a severely geometrical order and symmetry4 ,a few of the most common forms are represented1 unconfused by exterior mouldings1 in ,fig4 ,,xviii41 and the best traceries are nothing more than close clusters of such forms1 with mouldings following their outlines4 ,,xcviii4 ,the term foliated1 therefore1 is equally descriptive of the most perfect conditions both of the simple arch and of the traceries by which1 in later ,gothic1 it is filled2 and this foliation is an essential character of the style4 ,no ,gothic is either good or characteristic which is not foliated either in its arches or apertures4 ,sometimes the bearing arches are foliated1 and the ornamentation above composed of figure sculpture2 sometimes the bearing arches are plain1 and the ornamentation above them is composed of foliated apertures4 ,but the element of foliation must enter somewhere1 or the style is imperfect4 ,and our final definition of ,gothic will1 therefore1 stand thus3-- ,foliated ,architecture1 which uses the pointed arch for the roof proper1 and the gable for the roof-mask4 ,,xcix4 ,and now there is but one point more to be examined1 and we have done4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xix4 ,foliation1 while it is the most distinctive and peculiar1 is also the easiest method of decoration which ,gothic architecture possesses2 and1 although in the disposition of the proportions and forms of foils1 the most noble imagination may be shown1 yet a builder without imagination at all1 or any other faculty of design1 can produce some effect upon the mass of his work by merely covering it with foolish foliation4 ,throw any number of crossing lines together at random1 as in ,fig4 ,,xix41 and fill their squares and oblong openings with quatrefoils and cinquefoils1 and you will immediately have what will stand1 with most people1 for very satisfactory ,gothic4 ,the slightest possible acquaintance with existing forms will enable any architect to vary his patterns of foliation with as much ease as he would those of a kaleidoscope1 and to produce a building which the present ,european public will think magnificent1 though there may not be1 from foundation to coping1 one ray of invention1 or any other intellectual merit1 in the whole mass of it4 ,but floral decoration1 and the disposition of mouldings1 require some skill and thought2 and1 if they are to be agreeable at all1 must be verily invented1 or accurately copied4 ,they cannot be drawn altogether at random1 without becoming so commonplace as to involve detection3 and although1 as ,i have just said1 the noblest imagination may be shown in the dispositions of traceries1 there is far more room for its play and power when those traceries are associated with floral or animal ornament2 and it is probable1 priori1 that1 wherever true invention exists1 such ornament will be employed in profusion4 ,c4 ,now1 all ,gothic may be divided into two vast schools1 one early1 the other late2#gc of which the former1 noble1 inventive1 and progressive1 uses the element of foliation moderately1 that of floral and figure sculpture decoration profusely2 the latter1 ignoble1 uninventive1 and declining1 uses foliation immoderately1 floral and figure sculpture subordinately4 ,the two schools touch each other at that instant of momentous change1 dwelt upon in the ,seven ,lamps1 chap1 ii41 a period later or earlier in different districts1 but which may be broadly stated as the middle of the fourteenth century2 both styles being1 of course1 in their highest excellence at the moment when they meet1 the one ascending to the point of junction1 the one declining from it1 but1 at first1 not in any marked degree1 and only showing the characters which justify its being above called1 generically1 ignoble1 as its declension reaches steeper slope4 ,,ci4 ,of these two great schools1 the first uses foliation only in large and simple masses1 and covers the minor members1 cusps1 c41 of that foliation1 with various sculpture4 ,the latter decorates foliation itself with minor foliation1 and breaks its traceries into endless and lace-like subdivision of tracery4 ,a few instances will explain the difference clearly4 ,fig4 #b1 ,plate ,,xii41 represents half of an eight-foiled aperture from ,salisbury2 where the element of foliation is employed in the larger disposition of the starry form2 but in the decoration of the cusp it has entirely disappeared1 and the ornament is floral4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xii4 ,,linear ,,and ,,surface ,,gothic4 ,but in fig4 #a1 which is part of a fringe round one of the later windows in ,rouen ,cathedral1 the foliation is first carried boldly round the arch1 and then each cusp of it divided into other forms of foliation4 ,the two larger canopies of niches below1 figs4 #e and #f1 are respectively those seen at the flanks of the two uppermost examples of gabled ,gothic in ,fig4 ,x41 p4 #bac4 ,those examples were there chosen in order also to illustrate the distinction in the character of ornamentation which we are at present examining2 and if the reader will look back to them1 and compare their methods of treatment1 he will at once be enabled to fix that distinction clearly in his mind4 ,he will observe that in the uppermost the element of foliation is scrupulously confined to the bearing arches of the gable1 and of the lateral niches1 so that1 on any given side of the monument1 only three foliated arches are discernible4 ,all the rest of the ornamentation is bossy sculpture1 set on the broad marble surface4 ,on the point of the gable are set the shield and dog-crest of the ,scalas1 with its bronze wings1 as of a dragon1 thrown out from it on either side2 below1 an admirably sculptured oak-tree fills the centre of the field2 beneath it is the death of ,abel1 ,abel lying dead upon his face on one side1 ,cain opposite1 looking up to heaven in terror3 the border of the arch is formed of various leafage1 alternating with the scala shield2 and the cusps are each filled by one flower1 and two broad flowing leaves4 ,the whole is exquisitely relieved by color2 the ground being of pale red ,verona marble1 and the statues and foliage of white ,carrara marble1 inlaid4 ,,cii4 ,the figure below it1 b1 represents the southern lateral door of the principal church in ,abbeville3 the smallness of the scale compelled me to make it somewhat heavier in the lines of its traceries than it is in reality1 but the door itself is one of the most exquisite pieces of flamboyant ,gothic in the world2 and it is interesting to see the shield introduced here1 at the point of the gable1 in exactly the same manner as in the upper example1 and with precisely the same purpose1--to stay the eye in its ascent1 and to keep it from being offended by the sharp point of the gable1 the reversed angle of the shield being so energetic as completely to balance the upward tendency of the great convergent lines4 ,it will be seen1 however1 as this example is studied1 that its other decorations are altogether different from those of the ,veronese tomb2 that1 here1 the whole effect is dependent on mere multiplications of similar lines of tracery1 sculpture being hardly introduced except in the seated statue under the central niche1 and1 formerly1 in groups filling the shadowy hollows under the small niches in the archivolt1 but broken away in the ,revolution4 ,and if now we turn to ,plate ,,xii41 just passed1 and examine the heads of the two lateral niches there given from each of these monuments on a larger scale1 the contrast will be yet more apparent4 ,the one from ,abbeville 7fig4 #e71 though it contains much floral work of the crisp ,northern kind in its finial and crockets1 yet depends for all its effect on the various patterns of foliation with which its spaces are filled2 and it is so cut through and through that it is hardly stronger than a piece of lace3 whereas the pinnacle from ,verona depends for its effect on one broad mass of shadow1 boldly shaped into the trefoil in its bearing arch2 and there is no other trefoil on that side of the niche4 ,all the rest of its decoration is floral1 or by almonds and bosses2 and its surface of stone is unpierced1 and kept in broad light1 and the mass of it thick and strong enough to stand for as many more centuries as it has already stood1 scatheless1 in the open street of ,verona4 ,the figures #c and #d1 above each niche1 show how the same principles are carried out into the smallest details of the two edifices1 #c being the moulding which borders the gable at ,abbeville1 and #d1 that in the same position at ,verona2 and as thus in all cases the distinction in their treatment remains the same1 the one attracting the eye to broad sculptured surfaces1 the other to involutions of intricate lines1 ,i shall hereafter characterize the two schools1 whenever ,i have occasion to refer to them1 the one as ,surface-,gothic1 the other as ,linear-,gothic4 ,,ciii4 ,now observe3 it is not1 at present1 the question1 whether the form of the ,veronese niche1 and the design of its flower-work1 be as good as they might have been2 but simply1 which of the two architectural principles is the greater and better4 ,and this we cannot hesitate for an instant in deciding4 ,the ,veronese ,gothic is strong in its masonry1 simple in its masses1 but perpetual in its variety4 ,the late ,french ,gothic is weak in masonry1 broken in mass1 and repeats the same idea continually4 ,it is very beautiful1 but the ,italian ,gothic is the nobler style4 ,,civ4 ,yet1 in saying that the ,french ,gothic repeats one idea1 ,i mean merely that it depends too much upon the foliation of its traceries4 ,the disposition of the traceries themselves is endlessly varied and inventive2 and indeed1 the mind of the ,french workman was1 perhaps1 even richer in fancy than that of the ,italian1 only he had been taught a less noble style4 ,this is especially to be remembered with respect to the subordination of figure sculpture above noticed as characteristic of the later ,gothic4 ,it is not that such sculpture is wanting2 on the contrary1 it is often worked into richer groups1 and carried out with a perfection of execution1 far greater than those which adorn the earlier buildings3 but1 in the early work1 it is vigorous1 prominent1 and essential to the beauty of the whole2 in the late work it is enfeebled1 and shrouded in the veil of tracery1 from which it may often be removed with little harm to the general effect4#gd ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xx4 ,,cv4 ,now the reader may rest assured that no principle of art is more absolute than this1--that a composition from which anything can be removed without doing mischief is always so far forth inferior4 ,on this ground1 therefore1 if on no other1 there can be no question1 for a moment1 which of the two schools is the greater2 although there are many most noble works in the ,french traceried ,gothic1 having a sublimity of their own dependent on their extreme richness and grace of line1 and for which we may be most grateful to their builders4 ,and1 indeed1 the superiority of the ,surface-,gothic cannot be completely felt1 until we compare it with the more degraded ,linear schools1 as1 for instance1 with our own ,english ,perpendicular4 ,the ornaments of the ,veronese niche1 which we have used for our example1 are by no means among the best of their school1 yet they will serve our purpose for such a comparison4 ,that of its pinnacle is composed of a single upright flowering plant1 of which the stem shoots up through the centres of the leaves1 and bears a pendent blossom1 somewhat like that of the imperial lily4 ,the leaves are thrown back from the stem with singular grace and freedom1 and foreshortened1 as if by a skilful painter1 in the shallow marble relief4 ,their arrangement is roughly shown in the little woodcut at the side 7,fig4 ,,xx472 and if the reader will simply try the experiment for himself1--first1 of covering a piece of paper with crossed lines1 as if for accounts1 and filling all the interstices with any foliation that comes into his head1 as in ,figure ,,xix4 above2 and then1 of trying to fill the point of a gable with a piece of leafage like that in ,figure ,,xx4 above1 putting the figure itself aside1--he will presently find that more thought and invention are required to design this single minute pinnacle1 than to cover acres of ground with ,english perpendicular4 ,,cvi4 ,we have now1 ,i believe1 obtained a sufficiently accurate knowledge both of the spirit and form of ,gothic architecture2 but it may1 perhaps1 be useful to the general reader1 if1 in conclusion1 ,i set down a few plain and practical rules for determining1 in every instance1 whether a given building be good ,gothic or not1 and1 if not ,gothic1 whether its architecture is of a kind which will probably reward the pains of careful examination4 ,,cvii4 ,first4 ,look if the roof rises in a steep gable1 high above the walls4 ,if it does not do this1 there is something wrong2 the building is not quite pure ,gothic1 or has been altered4 ,,cviii4 ,secondly4 ,look if the principal windows and doors have pointed arches with gables over them4 ,if not pointed arches1 the building is not ,gothic2 if they have not any gables over them1 it is either not pure1 or not first-rate4 ,if1 however1 it has the steep roof1 the pointed arch1 and gable all united1 it is nearly certain to be a ,gothic building of a very fine time4 ,,cix4 ,thirdly4 ,look if the arches are cusped1 or apertures foliated4 ,if the building has met the first two conditions1 it is sure to be foliated somewhere2 but1 if not everywhere1 the parts which are unfoliated are imperfect1 unless they are large bearing arches1 or small and sharp arches in groups1 forming a kind of foliation by their own multiplicity1 and relieved by sculpture and rich mouldings4 ,the upper windows1 for instance1 in the east end of ,westminster ,abbey are imperfect for want of foliation4 ,if there be no foliation anywhere1 the building is assuredly imperfect ,gothic4 ,,cx4 ,fourthly4 ,if the building meets all the first three conditions1 look if its arches in general1 whether of windows and doors1 or of minor ornamentation1 are carried on true shafts with bases and capitals4 ,if they are1 then the building is assuredly of the finest ,gothic style4 ,it may still1 perhaps1 be an imitation1 a feeble copy1 or a bad example of a noble style2 but the manner of it1 having met all these four conditions1 is assuredly first-rate4 ,if its apertures have not shafts and capitals1 look if they are plain openings in the walls1 studiously simple1 and unmoulded at the sides2 as1 for instance1 the arch in ,plate ,,xix4 ,vol4 ,i4 ,if so1 the building may still be of the finest ,gothic1 adapted to some domestic or military service4 ,but if the sides of the window be moulded1 and yet there are no capitals at the spring of the arch1 it is assuredly of an inferior school4 ,this is all that is necessary to determine whether the building be of a fine ,gothic style4 ,the next tests to be applied are in order to discover whether it be good architecture or not3 for it may be very impure ,gothic1 and yet very noble architecture2 or it may be very pure ,gothic1 and yet1 if a copy1 or originally raised by an ungifted builder1 very bad architecture4 ,if it belong to any of the great schools of color1 its criticism becomes as complicated1 and needs as much care1 as that of a piece of music1 and no general rules for it can be given2 but if not-- ,,cxi4 ,first4 ,see if it looks as if it had been built by strong men2 if it has the sort of roughness1 and largeness1 and nonchalance1 mixed in places with the exquisite tenderness which seems always to be the sign-manual of the broad vision1 and massy power of men who can see past the work they are doing1 and betray here and there something like disdain for it4 ,if the building has this character1 it is much already in its favor2 it will go hard but it proves a noble one4 ,if it has not this1 but is altogether accurate1 minute1 and scrupulous in its workmanship1 it must belong to either the very best or the very worst of schools3 the very best1 in which exquisite design is wrought out with untiring and conscientious care1 as in the ,giottesque ,gothic2 or the very worst1 in which mechanism has taken the place of design4 ,it is more likely1 in general1 that it should belong to the worst than the best3 so that1 on the whole1 very accurate workmanship is to be esteemed a bad sign2 and if there is nothing remarkable about the building but its precision1 it may be passed at once with contempt4 ,,cxii4 ,secondly4 ,observe if it be irregular1 its different parts fitting themselves to different purposes1 no one caring what becomes of them1 so that they do their work4 ,if one part always answers accurately to another part1 it is sure to be a bad building2 and the greater and more conspicuous the irregularities1 the greater the chances are that it is a good one4 ,for instance1 in the ,ducal ,palace1 of which a rough woodcut is given in ,chap4 ,,viii41 the general idea is sternly symmetrical2 but two windows are lower than the rest of the six2 and if the reader will count the arches of the small arcade as far as to the great balcony1 he will find it is not in the centre1 but set to the right-hand side by the whole width of one of those arches4 ,we may be pretty sure that the building is a good one2 none but a master of his craft would have ventured to do this4 ,,cxiii4 ,thirdly4 ,observe if all the traceries1 capitals1 and other ornaments are of perpetually varied design4 ,if not1 the work is assuredly bad4 ,,cxiv4 ,lastly4 ,read the sculpture4 ,preparatory to reading it1 you will have to discover whether it is legible 7and1 if legible1 it is nearly certain to be worth reading74 ,on a good building1 the sculpture is always so set1 and on such a scale1 that at the ordinary distance from which the edifice is seen1 the sculpture shall be thoroughly intelligible and interesting4 ,in order to accomplish this1 the uppermost statues will be ten or twelve feet high1 and the upper ornamentation will be colossal1 increasing in fineness as it descends1 till on the foundation it will often be wrought as if for a precious cabinet in a king's chamber2 but the spectator will not notice that the upper sculptures are colossal4 ,he will merely feel that he can see them plainly1 and make them all out at his ease4 ,and1 having ascertained this1 let him set himself to read them4 ,thenceforward the criticism of the building is to be conducted precisely on the same principles as that of a book2 and it must depend on the knowledge1 feeling1 and not a little on the industry and perseverance of the reader1 whether1 even in the case of the best works1 he either perceive them to be great1 or feel them to be entertaining4 ,,footnotes #ef ,the third kind of ornament1 the ,renaissance1 is that in which the inferior detail becomes principal1 the executor of every minor portion being required to exhibit skill and possess knowledge as great as that which is possessed by the master of the design2 and in the endeavor to endow him with this skill and knowledge1 his own original power is overwhelmed1 and the whole building becomes a wearisome exhibition of well-educated imbecility4 ,we must fully inquire into the nature of this form of error1 when we arrive at the examination of the ,renaissance schools4 #eg ,vide ,preface to ,fair ,maid of ,perth4 #eh ,the ,elgin marbles are supposed by many persons to be perfect4 ,in the most important portions they indeed approach perfection1 but only there4 ,the draperies are unfinished1 the hair and wool of the animals are unfinished1 and the entire bas-reliefs of the frieze are roughly cut4 #ei ,in the eighth chapter we shall see a remarkable instance of this sacrifice of symmetry to convenience in the arrangement of the windows of the ,ducal ,palace4 #fj ,i am always afraid to use this word ,composition2 it is so utterly misused in the general parlance respecting art4 ,nothing is more common than to hear divisions of art into form1 composition1 and color1 or light and shade and composition1 or sentiment and composition1 or it matters not what else and composition2 the speakers in each case attaching a perfectly different meaning to the word1 generally an indistinct one1 and always a wrong one4 ,composition is1 in plain ,english1 putting together1 and it means the putting together of lines1 of forms1 of colors1 of shades1 or of ideas4 ,painters compose in color1 compose in thought1 compose in form1 and compose in effect3 the word being of use merely in order to express a scientific1 disciplined1 and inventive arrangement of any of these1 instead of a merely natural or accidental one4 #fa ,design is used in this place as expressive of the power to arrange lines and colors nobly4 ,by facts1 ,i mean facts perceived by the eye and mind1 not facts accumulated by knowledge4 ,see the chapter on ,roman ,renaissance 7,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,ii47 for this distinction4 #fb ,earlier1 that is to say1 pre-,raphaelite ages4 ,men of this stamp will praise ,claude1 and such other comparatively debased artists2 but they cannot taste the work of the thirteenth century4 #fc ,not selfish fear1 caused by want of trust in ,god1 or of resolution in the soul4 #fd ,i reserve for another place the full discussion of this interesting subject1 which here would have led me too far2 but it must be noted1 in passing1 that this vulgar ,purism1 which rejects truth1 not because it is vicious1 but because it is humble1 and consists not in choosing what is good1 but in disguising what is rough1 extends itself into every species of art4 ,the most definite instance of it is the dressing of characters of peasantry in an opera or ballet scene2 and the walls of our exhibitions are full of works of art which exalt nature in the same way1 not by revealing what is great in the heart1 but by smoothing what is coarse in the complexion4 ,there is nothing1 ,i believe1 so vulgar1 so hopeless1 so indicative of an irretrievably base mind1 as this species of ,purism4 ,of healthy ,purism carried to the utmost endurable length in this direction1 exalting the heart first1 and the features with it1 perhaps the most characteristic instance ,i can give is ,stothard's vignette to ,jorasse1 in ,rogers's ,italy2 at least it would be so if it could be seen beside a real group of ,swiss girls4 ,the poems of ,rogers1 compared with those of ,crabbe1 are admirable instances of the healthiest ,purism and healthiest ,naturalism in poetry4 ,the first great ,naturalists of ,christian art were ,orcagna and ,giotto4 #fe ,the reader will understand this in a moment by glancing at ,plate ,,xx41 the last in this volume1 where the series #a to #ab represents the change in one kind of leaf1 from the ,byzantine to the perfect ,gothic4 #ff ,the best art either represents the facts of its own day1 or1 if facts of the past1 expresses them with accessories of the time in which the work was done4 ,all good art1 representing past events1 is therefore full of the most frank anachronism1 and always ought to be4 ,no painter has any business to be an antiquarian4 ,we do not want his impressions or suppositions respecting things that are past4 ,we want his clear assertions respecting things present4 #fg ,see the account of the meeting at ,talla ,linns1 in #afhb1 given in the fourth chapter of the ,heart of ,midlothian4 ,at length they arrived at the conclusion that they who owned 7or allowed7 such names as ,monday1 ,tuesday1 ,january1 ,february1 and so forth1 served themselves heirs to the same if not greater punishment than had been denounced against the idolaters of old4 #fh ,see the beautiful description of ,florence in ,elizabeth ,browning's ,casa ,guidi ,windows1 which is not only a noble poem1 but the only book ,i have seen which1 favoring the ,liberal cause in ,italy1 gives a just account of the incapacities of the modern ,italian4 #fi ,salisbury spire is only a tower with a polygonal gabled roof of stone1 and so also the celebrated spires of ,caen and ,coutances4 #gj ,or by the shaded portions of ,fig4 ,,xxix4 ,vol4 ,i4 #ga ,the reader is not to suppose that ,greek architecture had always1 or often1 flat ceilings1 because ,i call its lintel the roof proper4 ,he must remember ,i always use these terms of the first simple arrangements of materials that bridge a space2 bringing in the real roof afterwards1 if ,i can4 ,in the case of ,greek temples it would be vain to refer their structure to the real roof1 for many were hypthral1 and without a roof at all4 ,i am unfortunately more ignorant of ,egyptian roofing than even of ,arabian1 so that ,i cannot bring this school into the diagram2 but the gable appears to have been magnificently used for a bearing roof4 ,vide ,mr4 ,fergusson's section of the ,pyramid of ,geezeh1 ,principles of ,beauty in ,art1 ,plate ,i41 and his expressions of admiration of ,egyptian roof masonry1 page #bja4 #gb ,see ',athenum1' ,march #eth1 #ahec4 #gc ,late1 and chiefly confined to ,northern countries1 so that the two schools may be opposed either as ,early and ,late ,gothic1 or 7in the fourteenth century7 as ,southern and ,northern ,gothic4 #gd ,in many of the best ,french ,gothic churches1 the groups of figures have been all broken away at the ,revolution1 without much harm to the picturesqueness1 though with grievous loss to the historical value of the architecture3 whereas1 if from the niche at ,verona we were to remove its floral ornaments1 and the statue beneath it1 nothing would remain but a rude square trefoiled shell1 utterly valueless1 or even ugly4 ,,chapter ,,vii4 ,,gothic ,,palaces4 ,i4 ,the buildings out of the remnants of which we have endeavored to recover some conception of the appearance of ,venice during the ,byzantine period1 contribute hardly anything at this day to the effect of the streets of the city4 ,they are too few and too much defaced to attract the eye or influence the feelings4 ,the charm which ,venice still possesses1 and which for the last fifty years has rendered it the favorite haunt of all the painters of picturesque subject1 is owing to the effect of the palaces belonging to the period we have now to examine1 mingled with those of the ,renaissance4 ,this effect is produced in two different ways4 ,the ,renaissance palaces are not more picturesque in themselves than the club-houses of ,pall ,mall2 but they become delightful by the contrast of their severity and refinement with the rich and rude confusion of the sea life beneath them1 and of their white and solid masonry with the green waves4 ,remove from beneath them the orange sails of the fishing boats1 the black gliding of the gondolas1 the cumbered decks and rough crews of the barges of traffic1 and the fretfulness of the green water along their foundations1 and the ,renaissance palaces possess no more interest than those of ,london or ,paris4 ,but the ,gothic palaces are picturesque in themselves1 and wield over us an independent power4 ,sea and sky1 and every other accessory might be taken away from them1 and still they would be beautiful and strange4 ,they are not less striking in the loneliest streets of ,padua and ,vicenza 7where many were built during the period of the ,venetian authority in those cities7 than in the most crowded thoroughfares of ,venice itself2 and if they could be transported into the midst of ,london1 they would still not altogether lose their power over the feelings4 ,,ii4 ,the best proof of this is in the perpetual attractiveness of all pictures1 however poor in skill1 which have taken for their subject the principal of these ,gothic buildings1 the ,ducal ,palace4 ,in spite of all architectural theories and teachings1 the paintings of this building are always felt to be delightful2 we cannot be wearied by them1 though often sorely tried2 but we are not put to the same trial in the case of the palaces of the ,renaissance4 ,they are never drawn singly1 or as the principal subject1 nor can they be4 ,the building which faces the ,ducal ,palace on the opposite side of the ,piazzetta is celebrated among architects1 but it is not familiar to our eyes2 it is painted only incidentally1 for the completion1 not the subject1 of a ,venetian scene2 and even the ,renaissance arcades of ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 though frequently painted1 are always treated as a mere avenue to its ,byzantine church and colossal tower4 ,and the ,ducal ,palace itself owes the peculiar charm which we have hitherto felt1 not so much to its greater size as compared with other ,gothic buildings1 or nobler design 7for it never yet has been rightly drawn71 as to its comparative isolation4 ,the other ,gothic structures are as much injured by the continual juxtaposition of the ,renaissance palaces1 as the latter are aided by it2 they exhaust their own life by breathing it into the ,renaissance coldness3 but the ,ducal ,palace stands comparatively alone1 and fully expresses the ,gothic power4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxi4 ,,iii4 ,and it is just that it should be so seen1 for it is the original of nearly all the rest4 ,it is not the elaborate and more studied developement of a national style1 but the great and sudden invention of one man1 instantly forming a national style1 and becoming the model for the imitation of every architect in ,venice for upwards of a century4 ,it was the determination of this one fact which occupied me the greater part of the time ,i spent in ,venice4 ,it had always appeared to me most strange that there should be in no part of the city any incipient or imperfect types of the form of the ,ducal ,palace2 it was difficult to believe that so mighty a building had been the conception of one man1 not only in disposition and detail1 but in style2 and yet impossible1 had it been otherwise1 but that some early examples of approximate ,gothic form must exist4 ,there is not one4 ,the palaces built between the final cessation of the ,byzantine style1 about #acjj1 and the date of the ,ducal ,palace 7#acbj-acej71 are all completely distinct in character1 so distinct that ,i at first intended the account of them to form a separate section of this volume2 and there is literally no transitional form between them and the perfection of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,every ,gothic building in ,venice which resembles the latter is a copy of it4 ,i do not mean that there was no ,gothic in ,venice before the ,ducal ,palace1 but that the mode of its application to domestic architecture had not been determined4 ,the real root of the ,ducal ,palace is the apse of the church of the ,frari4 ,the traceries of that apse1 though earlier and ruder in workmanship1 are nearly the same in mouldings1 and precisely the same in treatment 7especially in the placing of the lions' heads71 as those of the great ,ducal ,arcade2 and the originality of thought in the architect of the ,ducal ,palace consists in his having adapted those traceries1 in a more highly developed and finished form1 to civil uses4 ,in the apse of the church they form narrow and tall window lights1 somewhat more massive than those of ,northern ,gothic1 but similar in application3 the thing to be done was to adapt these traceries to the forms of domestic building necessitated by national usage4 ,the early palaces consisted1 as we have seen1 of arcades sustaining walls faced with marble1 rather broad and long than elevated4 ,this form was kept for the ,ducal ,palace2 but instead of round arches from shaft to shaft1 the ,frari traceries were substituted1 with two essential modifications4 ,besides being enormously increased in scale and thickness1 that they might better bear the superincumbent weight1 the quatrefoil1 which in the ,frari windows is above the arch1 as at a1 ,fig4 ,,xxi41 on previous page1 was1 in the ,ducal ,palace1 put between the arches1 as at b2 the main reason for this alteration being that the bearing power of the arches1 which was now to be trusted with the weight of a wall forty feet high1#ge was thus thrown between the quatrefoils1 instead of under them1 and thereby applied at far better advantage4 ,and1 in the second place1 the joints of the masonry were changed4 ,in the ,frari 7as often also in ,st4 ,john and ,st4 ,paul's7 the tracery is formed of two simple cross bars or slabs of stone1 pierced into the requisite forms1 and separated by a horizontal joint1 just on a level with the lowest cusp of the quatrefoils1 as seen in ,fig4 ,,xxi41 a4 ,but at the ,ducal ,palace the horizontal joint is in the centre of the quatrefoils1 and two others are introduced beneath it at right angles to the run of the mouldings1 as seen in ,fig4 ,,xxi41 b4#gf ,the ,ducal ,palace builder was sternly resolute in carrying out this rule of masonry4 ,in the traceries of the large upper windows1 where the cusps are cut through as in the quatrefoil ,fig4 ,,xxii41 the lower cusp is left partly solid1 as at a1 merely that the joint a b may have its right place and direction4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxii4 ,,iv4 ,the ascertaining the formation of the ,ducal ,palace traceries from those of the ,frari1 and its priority to all other buildings which resemble it in ,venice1 rewarded me for a great deal of uninteresting labor in the examination of mouldings and other minor features of the ,gothic palaces1 in which alone the internal evidence of their date was to be discovered1 there being no historical records whatever respecting them4 ,but the accumulation of details on which the complete proof of the fact depends1 could not either be brought within the compass of this volume1 or be made in anywise interesting to the general reader4 ,i shall therefore1 without involving myself in any discussion1 give a brief account of the developement of ,gothic design in ,venice1 as ,i believe it to have taken place4 ,i shall possibly be able at some future period so to compress the evidence on which my conviction rests1 as to render it intelligible to the public1 while1 in the meantime1 some of the more essential points of it are thrown together in the ,appendix1 and in the history of the ,ducal ,palace given in the next chapter4 ,v4 ,according1 then1 to the statement just made1 the ,gothic architecture of ,venice is divided into two great periods3 one1 in which1 while various irregular ,gothic tendencies are exhibited1 no consistent type of domestic building was developed2 the other1 in which a formed and consistent school of domestic architecture resulted from the direct imitation of the great design of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,we must deal with these two periods separately2 the first of them being that which has been often above alluded to1 under the name of the transitional period4 ,we shall consider in succession the general form1 the windows1 doors1 balconies1 and parapets1 of the ,gothic palaces belonging to each of these periods4 ,,vi4 ,first4 ,general ,form4 ,we have seen that the wrecks of the ,byzantine palaces consisted merely of upper and lower arcades surrounding cortiles2 the disposition of the interiors being now entirely changed1 and their original condition untraceable4 ,the entrances to these early buildings are1 for the most part1 merely large circular arches1 the central features of their continuous arcades3 they do not present us with definitely separated windows and doors4 ,but a great change takes place in the ,gothic period4 ,these long arcades break1 as it were1 into pieces1 and coagulate into central and lateral windows1 and small arched doors1 pierced in great surfaces of brick wall4 ,the sea story of a ,byzantine palace consists of seven1 nine1 or more arches in a continuous line2 but the sea story of a ,gothic palace consists of a door and one or two windows on each side1 as in a modern house4 ,the first story of a ,byzantine palace consists of1 perhaps1 eighteen or twenty arches1 reaching from one side of the house to the other2 the first story of a ,gothic palace consists of a window of four or five lights in the centre1 and one or two single windows on each side4 ,the germ1 however1 of the ,gothic arrangement is already found in the ,byzantine1 where1 as we have seen1 the arcades1 though continuous1 are always composed of a central mass and two wings of smaller arches4 ,the central group becomes the door or the middle light of the ,gothic palace1 and the wings break into its lateral windows4 ,,vii4 ,but the most essential difference in the entire arrangement1 is the loss of the unity of conception which1 regulated ,byzantine composition4 ,how subtle the sense of gradation which disposed the magnitudes of the early palaces we have seen already1 but ,i have not hitherto noticed that the ,byzantine work was centralized in its ornamentation as much as in its proportions4 ,not only were the lateral capitals and archivolts kept comparatively plain1 while the central ones were sculptured1 but the midmost piece of sculpture1 whatever it might be1--capital1 inlaid circle1 or architrave1--was always made superior to the rest4 ,in the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 for instance1 the midmost capital of the upper arcade is the key to the whole group1 larger and more studied than all the rest2 and the lateral ones are so disposed as to answer each other on the opposite sides1 thus1 ,a being put for the central one1 ,f ,e ,b ,c ,a ,c ,b ,e ,f1 a sudden break of the system being admitted in one unique capital at the extremity of the series4 ,,viii4 ,now1 long after the ,byzantine arcades had been contracted into windows1 this system of centralization was more or less maintained2 and in all the early groups of windows of five lights the midmost capital is different from the two on each side of it1 which always correspond4 ,so strictly is this the case1 that whenever the capitals of any group of windows are not centralized in this manner1 but are either entirely like each other1 or all different1 so as to show no correspondence1 it is a certain proof1 even if no other should exist1 of the comparative lateness of the building4 ,in every group of windows in ,venice which ,i was able to examine1 and which were centralized in this manner1 ,i found evidence in their mouldings of their being anterior to the ,ducal ,palace4 ,that palace did away with the subtle proportion and centralization of the ,byzantine4 ,its arches are of equal width1 and its capitals are all different and ungrouped2 some1 indeed1 are larger than the rest1 but this is not for the sake of proportion1 only for particular service when more weight is to be borne4 ,but1 among other evidences of the early date of the sea faade of that building1 is one subtle and delicate concession to the system of centralization which is finally closed4 ,the capitals of the upper arcade are1 as ,i said1 all different1 and show no arranged correspondence with each other2 but the central one is of pure ,parian marble1 while all the others are of ,istrian stone4 ,the bold decoration of the central window and balcony above1 in the ,ducal ,palace1 is only a peculiar expression of the principality of the central window1 which was characteristic of the ,gothic period not less than of the ,byzantine4 ,in the private palaces the central windows become of importance by their number of lights2 in the ,ducal ,palace such an arrangement was1 for various reasons1 inconvenient1 and the central window1 which1 so far from being more important than the others1 is every way inferior in design to the two at the eastern extremity of the faade1 was nevertheless made the leading feature by its noble canopy and balcony4 ,,ix4 ,such being the principal differences in the general conception of the ,byzantine and ,gothic palaces1 the particulars in the treatment of the latter are easily stated4 ,the marble facings are gradually removed from the walls2 and the bare brick either stands forth confessed boldly1 contrasted with the marble shafts and archivolts of the windows1 or it is covered with stucco painted in fresco1 of which more hereafter4 ,the ,ducal ,palace1 as in all other respects1 is an exact expression of the middle point in the change4 ,it still retains marble facing2 but instead of being disposed in slabs as in the ,byzantine times1 it is applied in solid bricks or blocks of marble1 #aa inches long1 by #f inches high4 ,the stories of the ,gothic palaces are divided by string courses1 considerably bolder in projection than those of the ,byzantines1 and more highly decorated2 and while the angles of the ,byzantine palaces are quite sharp and pure1 those of the ,gothic palaces are wrought into a chamfer1 filled by small twisted shafts which have capitals under the cornice of each story4 ,x4 ,these capitals are little observed in the general effect1 but the shafts are of essential importance in giving an aspect of firmness to the angle2 a point of peculiar necessity in ,venice1 where1 owning to the various convolutions of the canals1 the angles of the palaces are not only frequent1 but often necessarily acute1 every inch of ground being valuable4 ,in other cities1 the appearance as well as the assurance of stability can always be secured by the use of massy stones1 as in the fortress palaces of ,florence2 but it must have been always desirable at ,venice to build as lightly as possible1 in consequence of the comparative insecurity of the foundations4 ,the early palaces were1 as we have seen1 perfect models of grace and lightness1 and the ,gothic1 which followed1 though much more massive in the style of its details1 never admitted more weight into its structure than was absolutely necessary for its strength1 ,hence1 every ,gothic palace has the appearance of enclosing as many rooms1 and attaining as much strength1 as is possible1 with a minimum quantity of brick and stone4 ,the traceries of the windows1 which in ,northern ,gothic only support the glass1 at ,venice support the building2 and thus the greater ponderousness of the traceries is only an indication of the greater lightness of the structure4 ,hence1 when the ,renaissance architects give their opinions as to the stability of the ,ducal ,palace when injured by fire1 one of them1 ,christofore ,sorte1 says1 that he thinks it by no means laudable that the ,serenissimo ,dominio of the ,venetian senate should live in a palace built in the air4#gg ,and again1 ,andrea della ,valle says1 that#gh the wall of the saloon is thicker by fifteen inches than the shafts below it1 projecting nine inches within1 and six without1 standing as if in the air1 above the piazza2#gi and yet this wall is so nobly and strongly knit together1 that ,rusconi1 though himself altogether devoted to the ,renaissance school1 declares that the fire which had destroyed the whole interior of the palace had done this wall no more harm than the bite of a fly to an elephant4 ,troveremo che el danno che ha patito queste muraglie sar conforme alla beccatura d' una mosca fatta ad un elefante4#hj ,,xi4 ,and so in all the other palaces built at the time1 consummate strength was joined with a lightness of form and sparingness of material which rendered it eminently desirable that the eye should be convinced1 by every possible expedient1 of the stability of the building2 and these twisted pillars at the angles are not among the least important means adopted for this purpose1 for they seem to bind the walls together as a cable binds a chest4 ,in the ,ducal ,palace1 where they are carried up the angle of an unbroken wall forty feet high1 they are divided into portions1 gradually diminishing in length towards the top1 by circular bands or rings1 set with the nail-head or dog-tooth ornament1 vigorously projecting1 and giving the column nearly the aspect of the stalk of a reed2 its diminishing proportions being exactly arranged as they are by ,nature in all jointed plants4 ,at the top of the palace1 like the wheat-stalk branching into the ear of corn1 it expands into a small niche with a pointed canopy1 which joins with the fantastic parapet in at once relieving1 and yet making more notable by its contrast1 the weight of massy wall below4 ,the arrangement is seen in the woodcut1 ,chap4 ,,viii42 the angle shafts being slightly exaggerated in thickness1 together with their joints1 as otherwise they would hardly have been intelligible on so small a scale4 ,the ,ducal ,palace is peculiar in these niches at the angles1 which throughout the rest of the city appear on churches only2 but some may perhaps have been removed by restorations1 together with the parapets with which they were associated4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxiii4 ,,xii4 ,of these roof parapets of ,venice1 it has been already noticed that the examples which remain differ from those of all other cities of ,italy in their purely ornamental character4 7,chap4 ,i4 ,,xii47 ,they are not battlements1 properly so-called2 still less machicolated cornices1 such as crown the fortress palaces of the great mainland nobles2 but merely adaptations of the light and crown-like ornaments which crest the walls of the ,arabian mosque4 ,nor are even these generally used on the main walls of the palaces themselves4 ,they occur on the ,ducal ,palace1 on the ,casa d' ,oro1 and1 some years back1 were still standing on the ,fondaco de' ,turchi2 but the majority of the ,gothic ,palaces have the plain dog-tooth cornice under the tiled projecting roof 7,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,,xiv4 ,,iv472 and the highly decorated parapet is employed only on the tops of walls which surround courts or gardens1 and which1 without such decoration1 would have been utterly devoid of interest4 ,fig4 ,,xxiii4 represents1 at b1 part of a parapet of this kind which surrounds the courtyard of a palace in the ,calle del ,bagatin1 between ,san ,g4 ,grisostomo1 and ,san ,canzian3 the whole is of brick1 and the mouldings peculiarly sharp and varied2 the height of each separate pinnacle being about four feet1 crowning a wall twelve or fifteen feet high3 a piece of the moulding which surrounds the quatrefoil is given larger in the figure at a1 together with the top of the small arch below1 having the common ,venetian dentil round it1 and a delicate little moulding with dog-tooth ornament to carry the flanks of the arch4 ,the moulding of the brick is throughout sharp and beautiful in the highest degree4 ,one of the most curious points about it is the careless way in which the curved outlines of the pinnacles are cut into the plain brickwork1 with no regard whatever to the places of its joints4 ,the weather of course wears the bricks at the exposed joints1 and jags the outline a little2 but the work has stood1 evidently from the fourteenth century1 without sustaining much harm4 ,,xiii4 ,this parapet may be taken as a general type of the wall-parapet of ,venice in the ,gothic period2 some being much less decorated1 and others much more richly3 the most beautiful in ,venice is in the little ,calle1 opening on the ,campo and ,traghetto ,san ,samuele2 it has delicately carved devices in stone let into each pinnacle4 ,the parapets of the palaces themselves were lighter and more fantastic1 consisting of narrow lance-like spires of marble1 set between the broader pinnacles1 which were in such cases generally carved into the form of a fleur-de-lis3 the ,french word gives the reader the best idea of the form1 though he must remember that this use of the lily for the parapets has nothing to do with ,france1 but is the carrying out of the ,byzantine system of floral ornamentation1 which introduced the outline of the lily everywhere2 so that ,i have found it convenient to call its most beautiful capitals1 the lily capitals of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,but the occurrence of this flower1 more distinctly than usual1 on the battlements of the ,ducal ,palace1 was the cause of some curious political speculation in the year #aeaa1 when a piece of one of these battlements was shaken down by the great earthquake of that year4 ,sanuto notes in his diary that the piece that fell was just that which bore the lily1 and records sundry sinister anticipations1 founded on this important omen1 of impending danger to the adverse ,french power4 ,as there happens1 in the ,ducal ,palace1 to be a joint in the pinnacles which exactly separates the part which bears the lily from that which is fastened to the cornice1 it is no wonder that the omen proved fallacious4 ,,xiv4 ,the decorations of the parapet were completed by attaching gilded balls of metal to the extremities of the leaves of the lilies1 and of the intermediate spires1 so as literally to form for the wall a diadem of silver touched upon the points with gold2 the image being rendered still more distinct in the ,casa d' ,oro1 by variation in the height of the pinnacles1 the highest being in the centre of the front4 ,very few of these light roof parapets now remain2 they are1 of course1 the part of the building which dilapidation first renders it necessary to remove4 ,that of the ,ducal ,palace1 however1 though often1 ,i doubt not1 restored1 retains much of the ancient form1 and is exceedingly beautiful1 though it has no appearance from below of being intended for protection1 but serves only1 by its extreme lightness1 to relieve the eye when wearied by the breadth of wall beneath2 it is nevertheless a most serviceable defence for any person walking along the edge of the roof4 ,it has some appearance of insecurity1 owing to the entire independence of the pieces of stone composing it1 which1 though of course fastened by iron1 look as if they stood balanced on the cornice like the pillars of ,stonehenge2 but ,i have never heard of its having been disturbed by anything short of an earthquake2 and1 as we have seen1 even the great earthquake of #aeaa1 though it much injured the ,gorne1 or battlements at the ,casa d' ,oro1 and threw down several statues at ,st4 ,mark's1#ha only shook one lily from the brow of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxiv4 ,,xv4 ,although1 however1 these light and fantastic forms appear to have been universal in the battlements meant primarily for decoration1 there was another condition of parapet altogether constructed for the protection of persons walking on the roofs or in the galleries of the churches1 and from these more substantial and simple defences1 the ,,balconies1 to which the ,gothic palaces owe half of their picturesque effect1 were immediately derived2 the balcony being1 in fact1 nothing more than a portion of such roof parapets arranged round a projecting window-sill sustained on brackets1 as in the central example of the annexed figure4 ,we must1 therefore1 examine these defensive balustrades and the derivative balconies consecutively4 ,,xvi4 ,obviously1 a parapet with an unbroken edge1 upon which the arm may rest 7a condition above noticed1 ,vol4 ,i4 p4 #aeg41 as essential to the proper performance of its duty71 can be constructed only in one of three ways4 ,it must either be 7#a7 of solid stone1 decorated1 if at all1 by mere surface sculpture1 as in the uppermost example in ,fig4 ,,xxiv41 above2 or 7#b7 pierced into some kind of tracery1 as in the second2 or 7#c7 composed of small pillars carrying a level bar of stone1 as in the third2 this last condition being1 in a diseased and swollen form1 familiar to us in the balustrades of our bridges4#hb ,,xvii4 7#a47 ,of these three kinds1 the first1 which is employed for the pulpit at ,torcello and in the nave of ,st4 ,mark's1 whence the uppermost example is taken1 is beautiful when sculpture so rich can be employed upon it2 but it is liable to objection1 first1 because it is heavy and unlike a parapet when seen from below2 and1 secondly1 because it is inconvenient in use4 ,the position of leaning over a balcony becomes cramped and painful if long continued1 unless the foot can be sometimes advanced beneath the ledge on which the arm leans1 i4 e4 between the balusters or traceries1 which of course cannot be done in the solid parapet3 it is also more agreeable to be able to see partially down through the penetrations1 than to be obliged to lean far over the edge4 ,the solid parapet was rarely used in ,venice after the earlier ages4 ,,xviii4 7#b47 ,the ,traceried ,parapet is chiefly used in the ,gothic of the ,north1 from which the above example1 in the ,casa ,contarini ,fasan1 is directly derived4 ,it is1 when well designed1 the richest and most beautiful of all forms1 and many of the best buildings of ,france and ,germany are dependent for half their effect upon it2 its only fault being a slight tendency to fantasticism4 ,it was never frankly received in ,venice1 where the architects had unfortunately returned to the ,renaissance forms before the flamboyant parapets were fully developed in the ,north2 but1 in the early stage of the ,renaissance1 a kind of pierced parapet was employed1 founded on the old ,byzantine interwoven traceries2 that is to say1 the slab of stone was pierced here and there with holes1 and then an interwoven pattern traced on the surface round them4 ,the difference in system will be understood in a moment by comparing the uppermost example in the figure at the side1 which is a ,northern parapet from the ,cathedral of ,abbeville1 with the lowest1 from a secret chamber in the ,casa ,foscari4 ,it will be seen that the ,venetian one is far more simple and severe1 yet singularly piquant1 the black penetrations telling sharply on the plain broad surface4 ,far inferior in beauty1 it has yet one point of superiority to that of ,abbeville1 that it proclaims itself more definitely to be stone4 ,the other has rather the look of lace4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxv4 ,the intermediate figure is a panel of the main balcony of the ,ducal ,palace1 and is introduced here as being an exactly transitional condition between the ,northern and ,venetian types4 ,it was built when the ,german ,gothic workmen were exercising considerable influence over those in ,venice1 and there was some chance of the ,northern parapet introducing itself4 ,it actually did so1 as above shown1 in the ,casa ,contarini ,fasan1 but was for the most part stoutly resisted and kept at bay by the ,byzantine form1 the lowest in the last figure1 until that form itself was displaced by the common1 vulgar1 ,renaissance baluster2 a grievous loss1 for the severe pierced type was capable of a variety as endless as the fantasticism of our own ,anglo-,saxon manuscript ornamentation4 ,,xix4 7#c47 ,the ,baluster ,parapet4 ,long before the idea of tracery had suggested itself to the minds either of ,venetian or any other architects1 it had1 of course1 been necessary to provide protection for galleries1 edges of roofs1 c42 and the most natural form in which such protection could be obtained was that of a horizontal bar or hand-rail1 sustained upon short shafts or balusters1 as in ,fig4 ,,xxiv4 p4 #bdc4 ,this form was1 above all others1 likely to be adopted where variations of ,greek or ,roman pillared architecture were universal in the larger masses of the building2 the parapet became itself a small series of columns1 with capitals and architraves2 and whether the cross-bar laid upon them should be simply horizontal1 and in contact with their capitals1 or sustained by mimic arches1 round or pointed1 depended entirely on the system adopted in the rest of the work4 ,where the large arches were round1 the small balustrade arches would be so likewise2 where those were pointed1 these would become so in sympathy with them4 ,,xx4 ,unfortunately1 wherever a balcony or parapet is used in an inhabited house1 it is1 of course1 the part of the structure which first suffers from dilapidation1 as well as that of which the security is most anxiously cared for4 ,the main pillars of a casement may stand for centuries unshaken under the steady weight of the superincumbent wall1 but the cement and various insetting of the balconies are sure to be disturbed by the irregular pressures and impulses of the persons leaning on them2 while1 whatever extremity of decay may be allowed in other parts of the building1 the balcony1 as soon as it seems dangerous1 will assuredly be removed or restored4 ,the reader will not1 if he considers this1 be surprised to hear that1 among all the remnants of the ,venetian domestic architecture of the eleventh1 twelfth1 and thirteenth centuries1 there is not a single instance of the original balconies being preserved4 ,the palace mentioned below 7 ,,xxxii471 in the piazza of the ,rialto1 has1 indeed1 solid slabs of stone between its shafts1 but ,i cannot be certain that they are of the same period2 if they are1 this is the only existing example of the form of protection employed for casements during this transitional period1 and it cannot be reasoned from as being the general one4 ,,xxi4 ,it is only1 therefore1 in the churches of ,torcello1 ,murano1 and ,st4 ,mark's1 that the ancient forms of gallery defence may still be seen4 ,at ,murano1 between the pillars of the apse1 a beautiful balustrade is employed1 of which a single arch is given in the ,plate opposite1 fig4 #d1 with its section1 fig4 #e42 and at ,st4 ,mark's1 a noble round-arched parapet1 with small pillars of precisely the same form as those of ,murano1 but shorter1 and bound at the angles into groups of four by the serpentine knot so often occurring in ,lombardic work1 runs round the whole exterior of the lower story of the church1 and round great part of its interior galleries1 alternating with the more fantastic form1 fig4 #f4 ,in domestic architecture1 the remains of the original balconies begin to occur first in the beginning of the fourteenth century1 when the round arch had entirely disappeared2 and the parapet consists1 almost without exception1 of a series of small trefoiled arches1 cut boldly through a bar of stone which rests upon the shafts1 at first very simple1 and generally adorned with a cross at the point of each arch1 as in fig4 #g in the last ,plate1 which gives the angle of such a balcony on a large scale2 but soon enriched into the beautiful conditions1 figs4 #b and #c1 and sustained on brackets formed of lions' heads1 as seen in the central example of their entire effect1 fig4 #a4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xiii4 ,,balconies4 ,,xxii4 ,in later periods1 the round arches return2 then the interwoven ,byzantine form2 and finally1 as above noticed1 the common ,english or classical balustrade2 of which1 however1 exquisite examples1 for grace and variety of outline1 are found designed in the backgrounds of ,paul ,veronese4 ,i could willingly follow out this subject fully1 but it is impossible to do so without leaving ,venice2 for the chief city of ,italy1 as far as regards the strict effect of the balcony1 is ,verona2 and if we were once to lose ourselves among the sweet shadows of its lonely streets1 where the falling branches of the flowers stream like fountains through the pierced traceries of the marble1 there is no saying whether we might soon be able to return to our immediate work4 ,yet before leaving the subject of the balcony#hc altogether1 ,i must allude1 for a moment1 to the peculiar treatment of the iron-work out of which it is frequently wrought on the mainland of ,italy--never in ,venice4 ,the iron is always wrought1 not cast1 beaten first into thin leaves1 and then cut either into strips or bands1 two or three inches broad1 which are bent into various curves to form the sides of the balcony1 or else into actual leafage1 sweeping and free1 like the leaves of nature1 with which it is richly decorated4 ,there is no end to the variety of design1 no limit to the lightness and flow of the forms1 which the workman can produce out of iron treated in this manner2 and it is very nearly as impossible for any metal-work1 so handled1 to be poor1 or ignoble in effect1 as it is for cast metal-work to be otherwise4 ,,xxiii4 ,we have next to examine those features of the ,gothic palaces in which the transitions of their architecture are most distinctly traceable2 namely1 the arches of the windows and doors4 ,it has already been repeatedly stated1 that the ,gothic style had formed itself completely on the mainland1 while the ,byzantines still retained their influence at ,venice2 and that the history of early ,venetian ,gothic is therefore not that of a school taking new forms independently of external influence1 but the history of the struggle of the ,byzantine manner with a contemporary style quite as perfectly organized as itself1 and far more energetic4 ,and this struggle is exhibited partly in the gradual change of the ,byzantine architecture into other forms1 and partly by isolated examples of genuine ,gothic taken prisoner1 as it were1 in the contest2 or rather entangled among the enemy's forces1 and maintaining their ground till their friends came up to sustain them4 ,let us first follow the steps of the gradual change1 and then give some brief account of the various advanced guards and forlorn hopes of the ,gothic attacking force4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xiv4 ,,the ,,orders ,,of ,,venetian ,,arches4 ,,xxiv4 ,the uppermost shaded series of six forms of windows in ,plate ,,xiv41 opposite1 represents1 at a glance1 the modifications of this feature in ,venetian palaces1 from the eleventh to the fifteenth century4 ,fig4 #a is ,byzantine1 of the eleventh and twelfth centuries2 figs4 #b and #c transitional1 of the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries2 figs4 #d and #e pure ,gothic1 of the thirteenth1 fourteenth and early fifteenth2 and fig4 #f4 late ,gothic1 of the fifteenth century1 distinguished by its added finial4 ,fig4 #d is the longest-lived of all these forms3 it occurs first in the thirteenth century2 and1 sustaining modifications only in its mouldings1 is found also in the middle of the fifteenth4 ,i shall call these the six orders#hd of ,venetian windows1 and when ,i speak of a window of the fourth1 second1 or sixth order1 the reader will only have to refer to the numerals at the top of ,plate ,,xiv4 ,then the series below shows the principal forms found in each period1 belonging to each several order2 except #a b to #a c1 and the two lower series1 numbered #g to #af1 which are types of ,venetian doors4 ,,xxv4 ,we shall now be able1 without any difficulty1 to follow the course of transition1 beginning with the first order1 #a and #a a1 in the second row4 ,the horse-shoe arch1 #a b1 is the door-head commonly associated with it1 and the other three in the same row occur in ,st4 ,mark's exclusively2 #a c being used in the nave1 in order to give a greater appearance of lightness to its great lateral arcades1 which at first the spectator supposes to be round-arched1 but he is struck by a peculiar grace and elasticity in the curves for which he is unable to account1 until he ascends into the galleries whence the true form of the arch is discernible4 ,the other two--#a d1 from the door of the southern transept1 and #a c1 from that of the treasury1--sufficiently represent a group of fantastic forms derived from the ,arabs1 and of which the exquisite decoration is one of the most important features in ,st4 ,mark's4 ,their form is indeed permitted merely to obtain more fantasy in the curves of this decoration4#he ,the reader can see in a moment1 that1 as pieces of masonry1 or bearing arches1 they are infirm or useless1 and therefore never could be employed in any building in which dignity of structure was the primal object4 ,it is just because structure is not the primal object in ,st4 ,mark's1 because it has no severe weights to bear1 and much loveliness of marble and sculpture to exhibit1 that they are therein allowable4 ,they are of course1 like the rest of the building1 built of brick and faced with marble1 and their inner masonry1 which must be very ingenious1 is therefore not discernible4 ,they have settled a little1 as might have been expected1 and the consequence is1 that there is in every one of them1 except the upright arch of the treasury1 a small fissure across the marble of the flanks4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxvi4 ,,xxvi4 ,though1 however1 the ,venetian builders adopted these ,arabian forms of arch where grace of ornamentation was their only purpose1 they saw that such arrangements were unfit for ordinary work2 and there is no instance1 ,i believe1 in ,venice1 of their having used any of them for a dwelling-house in the truly ,byzantine period4 ,but so soon as the ,gothic influence began to be felt1 and the pointed arch forced itself upon them1 their first concession to its attack was the adoption1 in preference to the round arch1 of the form #c a 7,plate ,,xiv41 above72 the point of the ,gothic arch forcing itself up1 as it were1 through the top of the semicircle which it was soon to supersede4 ,,xxvii4 ,the woodcut above1 ,fig4 ,,xxvi41 represents the door and two of the lateral windows of a house in the ,corte del ,remer1 facing the ,grand ,canal1 in the parish of the ,apostoli4 ,it is remarkable as having its great entrance on the first floor1 attained by a bold flight of steps1 sustained on pure pointed arches wrought in brick4 ,i cannot tell if these arches are contemporary with the building1 though it must always have had an access of the kind4 ,the rest of its aspect is ,byzantine1 except only that the rich sculptures of its archivolt show in combats of animals1 beneath the soffit1 a beginning of the ,gothic fire and energy4 ,the moulding of its plinth is of a ,gothic profile1#hf and the windows are pointed1 not with a reversed curve1 but in a pure straight gable1 very curiously contrasted with the delicate bending of the pieces of marble armor cut for the shoulders of each arch4 ,there is a two-lighted window1 such as that seen in the vignette1 on each side of the door1 sustained in the centre by a basket-worked ,byzantine capital3 the mode of covering the brick archivolt with marble1 both in the windows and doorway1 is precisely like that of the true ,byzantine palaces4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxvii4 ,,xxviii4 ,but as1 even on a small scale1 these arches are weak1 if executed in brickwork1 the appearance of this sharp point in the outline was rapidly accompanied by a parallel change in the method of building2 and instead of constructing the arch of brick and coating it with marble1 the builders formed it of three pieces of hewn stone inserted in the wall1 as in ,fig4 ,,xxvii4 ,not1 however1 at first in this perfect form4 ,the endeavor to reconcile the grace of the reversed arch with the strength of the round one1 and still to build in brick1 ended at first in conditions such as that represented at a1 ,fig4 ,,xxviii41 which is a window in the ,calle del ,pistor1 close to the church of the ,apostoli1 a very interesting and perfect example4 ,here1 observe1 the poor round arch is still kept to do all the hard work1 and the fantastic ogee takes its pleasure above1 in the form of a moulding merely1 a chain of bricks cast to the required curve4 ,and this condition1 translated into stone-work1 becomes a window of the second order 7b#e1 ,fig4 ,,xxviii41 or #b1 in ,plate ,,xiv472 a form perfectly strong and serviceable1 and of immense importance in the transitional architecture of ,venice4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxviii4 ,,xxix4 ,at b1 ,fig4 ,,xxviii41 as above1 is given one of the earliest and simplest occurrences of the second order window 7in a double group1 exactly like the brick transitional form a71 from a most important fragment of a defaced house in the ,salizzada ,san ,li1 close to the ,merceria4 ,it is associated with a fine pointed brick arch1 indisputably of contemporary work1 towards the close of the thirteenth century1 and it is shown to be later than the previous example1 a1 by the greater developement of its mouldings4 ,the archivolt profile1 indeed1 is the simpler of the two1 not having the sub-arch2 as in the brick example2 but the other mouldings are far more developed4 ,fig4 ,,xxix4 shows at #a the arch profiles1 at #b the capital profiles1 at #c the basic-plinth profiles1 of each window1 a and b4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxix4 ,,xxx4 ,but the second order window soon attained nobler developement4 ,at once simple1 graceful1 and strong1 it was received into all the architecture of the period1 and there is hardly a street in ,venice which does not exhibit some important remains of palaces built with this form of window in many stories1 and in numerous groups4 ,the most extensive and perfect is one upon the ,grand ,canal in the parish of the ,apostoli1 near the ,rialto1 covered with rich decoration1 in the ,byzantine manner1 between the windows of its first story2 but not completely characteristic of the transitional period1 because still retaining the dentil in the arch mouldings1 while the transitional houses all have the simple roll4 ,of the fully established type1 one of the most extensive and perfect examples is in a court in the ,calle di ,rimedio1 close to the ,ponte dell' ,angelo1 near ,st4 ,mark's ,place4 ,another looks out upon a small square garden1 one of the few visible in the centre of ,venice1 close by the ,corte ,salviati 7the latter being known to every cicerone as that from which ,bianca ,capello fled74 ,but1 on the whole1 the most interesting to the traveller is that of which ,i have given a vignette opposite4 ,but for this range of windows1 the little piazza ,,ss4 ,apostoli would be one of the least picturesque in ,venice2 to those1 however1 who seek it on foot1 it becomes geographically interesting from the extraordinary involution of the alleys leading to it from the ,rialto4 ,in ,venice1 the straight road is usually by water1 and the long road by land2 but the difference of distance appears1 in this case1 altogether inexplicable4 ,twenty or thirty strokes of the oar will bring a gondola from the foot of the ,rialto to that of the ,ponte ,,ss4 ,apostoli2 but the unwise pedestrian1 who has not noticed the white clue beneath his feet1#hg may think himself fortunate1 if1 after a quarter of an hour's wandering among the houses behind the ,fondaco de' ,tedeschi1 he finds himself anywhere in the neighborhood of the point he seeks4 ,with much patience1 however1 and modest following of the guidance of the marble thread1 he will at last emerge over a steep bridge into the open space of the ,piazza1 rendered cheerful in autumn by a perpetual market of pomegranates1 and purple gourds1 like enormous black figs2 while the canal1 at its extremity1 is half-blocked up by barges laden with vast baskets of grapes as black as charcoal1 thatched over with their own leaves4 ,looking back1 on the other side of this canal1 he will see the windows represented in ,plate ,,xv41 which1 with the arcade of pointed arches beneath them1 are the remains of the palace once belonging to the unhappy doge1 ,marino ,faliero4 ,the balcony is1 of course1 modern1 and the series of windows has been of greater extent1 once terminated by a pilaster on the left hand1 as well as on the right2 but the terminal arches have been walled up4 ,what remains1 however1 is enough1 with its sculptured birds and dragons1 to give the reader a very distinct idea of the second order window in its perfect form4 ,the details of the capitals1 and other minor portions1 if these interest him1 he will find given in the final ,appendix4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xv4 ,,windows ,,of ,,the ,,second ,,order4 ,,casa ,,falier4 ,,xxxi4 ,the advance of the ,gothic spirit was1 for a few years1 checked by this compromise between the round and pointed arch4 ,the truce1 however1 was at last broken1 in consequence of the discovery that the keystone would do duty quite as well in the form b as in the form a1 ,fig4 ,,xxx41 and the substitution of b1 at the head of the arch1 gives us the window of the third order1 #c b1 #c d1 and #c e1 in ,plate ,,xiv4 ,the forms #c a and #c c are exceptional2 the first occurring1 as we have seen1 in the ,corte del ,remer1 and in one other palace on the ,grand ,canal1 close to the ,church of ,st4 ,eustachio2 the second only1 as far as ,i know1 in one house on the ,canna-,reggio1 belonging to the true ,gothic period4 ,the other three examples1 #c b1 #c d1 #c e1 are generally characteristic of the third order2 and it will be observed that they differ not merely in mouldings1 but in slope of sides1 and this latter difference is by far the most material4 ,for in the example #c b there is hardly any true ,gothic expression2 it is still the pure ,byzantine arch1 with a point thrust up through it3 but the moment the flanks slope1 as in #c d1 the ,gothic expression is definite1 and the entire school of the architecture is changed4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxx4 ,this slope of the flanks occurs1 first1 in so slight a degree as to be hardly perceptible1 and gradually increases until1 reaching the form #c e at the close of the thirteenth century1 the window is perfectly prepared for a transition into the fifth order4 ,,xxxii4 ,the most perfect examples of the third order in ,venice are the windows of the ruined palace of ,marco ,querini1 the father-in-law of ,bajamonte ,tiepolo1 in consequence of whose conspiracy against the government this palace was ordered to be razed in #acaj2 but it was only partially ruined1 and was afterwards used as the common shambles4 ,the ,venetians have now made a poultry market of the lower story 7the shambles being removed to a suburb71 and a prison of the upper1 though it is one of the most important and interesting monuments in the city1 and especially valuable as giving us a secure date for the central form of these very rare transitional windows4 ,for1 as it was the palace of the father-in-law of ,bajamonte1 and the latter was old enough to assume the leadership of a political faction in #abhj1hh the date of the accession to the throne of the ,doge ,pietro ,gradenigo1 we are secure of this palace having been built not later than the middle of the thirteenth century4 ,another example1 less refined in workmanship1 but1 if possible1 still more interesting1 owing to the variety of its capitals1 remains in the little piazza opening to the ,rialto1 on the ,st4 ,mark's side of the ,grand ,canal4 ,the house faces the bridge1 and its second story has been built in the thirteenth century1 above a still earlier ,byzantine cornice remaining1 or perhaps introduced from some other ruined edifice1 in the walls of the first floor4 ,the windows of the second story are of pure third order2 four of them are represented above1 with their flanking pilaster1 and capitals varying constantly in the form of the flower or leaf introduced between their volutes4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxi4 ,,xxxiii4 ,another most important example exists in the lower story of the ,casa ,sagredo1 on the ,grand ,canal1 remarkable as having the early upright form 7#c b1 ,plate ,,xiv47 with a somewhat late moulding4 ,many others occur in the fragmentary ruins in the streets3 but the two boldest conditions which ,i found in ,venice are those of the ,chapter-,house of the ,frari1 in which the ,doge ,francesco ,dandolo was buried circa #acci2 and those of the flank of the ,ducal ,palace itself absolutely corresponding with those of the ,frari1 and therefore of inestimable value in determining the date of the palace4 ,of these more hereafter4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xvi4 ,,windows ,,of ,,the ,,fourth ,,order4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxii4 ,,xxxiv4 ,contemporarily with these windows of the second and third orders1 those of the fourth 7#d a and #d b1 in ,plate ,,xiv47 occur1 at first in pairs1 and with simple mouldings1 precisely similar to those of the second order1 but much more rare1 as in the example at the side1 ,fig4 ,,xxxii41 from the ,salizada ,san ,li2 and then1 enriching their mouldings as shown in the continuous series #d c1 #d d1 of ,plate ,,xiv41 associate themselves with the fifth order windows of the perfect ,gothic period4 ,there is hardly a palace in ,venice without some example1 either early or late1 of these fourth order windows2 but the ,plate opposite 7,,xvi47 represents one of their purest groups at the close of the thirteenth century1 from a house on the ,grand ,canal1 nearly opposite the ,church of the ,scalzi4 ,i have drawn it from the side1 in order that the great depth of the arches may be seen1 and the clear detaching of the shafts from the sheets of glass behind4 ,the latter1 as well as the balcony1 are comparatively modern2 but there is no doubt that if glass were used in the old window1 it was set behind the shafts1 at the same depth4 ,the entire modification of the interiors of all the ,venetian houses by recent work has however prevented me from entering into any inquiry as to the manner in which the ancient glazing was attached to the interiors of the windows4 ,the fourth order window is found in great richness and beauty at ,verona1 down to the latest ,gothic times1 as well as in the earliest1 being then more frequent than any other form4 ,it occurs1 on a grand scale1 in the old palace of the ,scaligers1 and profusely throughout the streets of the city4 ,the series #d a to #d e1 ,plate ,,xiv41 shows its most ordinary conditions and changes of arch-line3 #d a and #d b are the early ,venetian forms2 #d c1 later1 is general at ,venice2 #d d1 the best and most piquant condition1 owing to its fantastic and bold projection of cusp1 is common to ,venice and ,verona2 #d e is early ,veronese4 ,,xxxv4 ,the reader will see at once1 in descending to the fifth row in ,plate ,,xiv41 representing the windows of the fifth order1 that they are nothing more than a combination of the third and fourth4 ,by this union they become the nearest approximation to a perfect ,gothic form which occurs characteristically at ,venice2 and we shall therefore pause on the threshold of this final change1 to glance back upon1 and gather together1 those fragments of purer pointed architecture which were above noticed as the forlorn hopes of the ,gothic assault4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxiii4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxiv4 ,the little ,campiello ,san ,rocco is entered by a sotto-portico behind the church of the ,frari4 ,looking back1 the upper traceries of the magnificent apse are seen towering above the irregular roofs and chimneys of the little square2 and our lost ,prout was enabled to bring the whole subject into an exquisitely picturesque composition1 by the fortunate occurrence of four quaint trefoiled windows in one of the houses on the right4 ,those trefoils are among the most ancient efforts of ,gothic art in ,venice4 ,i have given a rude sketch of them in ,fig4 ,,xxxiii4 ,they are built entirely of brick1 except the central shaft and capital1 which are of ,istrian stone4 ,their structure is the simplest possible2 the trefoils being cut out of the radiating bricks which form the pointed arch1 and the edge or upper limit of that pointed arch indicated by a roll moulding formed of cast bricks1 in length of about a foot1 and ground at the bottom so as to meet in one1 as in ,fig4 ,,xxxiv4 ,the capital of the shaft is one of the earliest transitional forms2#hi and observe the curious following out1 even in this minor instance1 of the great law of centralization above explained with respect to the ,byzantine palaces4 ,there is a central shaft1 a pilaster on each side1 and then the wall4 ,the pilaster has1 by way of capital1 a square flat brick1 projecting a little1 and cast1 at the edge1 into the form of the first type of all cornices 7a1 p4 #fc1 ,vol4 ,i42 the reader ought to glance back at this passage1 if he has forgotten it72 and the shafts and pilasters all stand1 without any added bases1 on a projecting plinth of the same simple profile4 ,these windows have been much defaced2 but ,i have not the least doubt that their plinths are the original ones3 and the whole group is one of the most valuable in ,venice1 as showing the way in which the humblest houses1 in the noble times1 followed out the system of the larger palaces1 as far as they could1 in their rude materials4 ,it is not often that the dwellings of the lower orders are preserved to us from the thirteenth century4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xvii4 ,,windows ,,of ,,the ,,early ,,gothic ,,palaces4 ,,xxxvi4 ,in the two upper lines of the opposite ,plate 7,,xvii471 ,i have arranged some of the more delicate and finished examples of ,gothic work of this period4 ,of these1 fig4 #d is taken from the outer arcade of ,san ,fermo of ,verona1 to show the condition of mainland architecture1 from which all these ,venetian types were borrowed4 ,this arch1 together with the rest of the arcade1 is wrought in fine stone1 with a band of inlaid red brick1 the whole chiselled and fitted with exquisite precision1 all ,venetian work being coarse in comparison4 ,throughout the streets of ,verona1 arches and windows of the thirteenth century are of continual occurrence1 wrought1 in this manner1 with brick and stone2 sometimes the brick alternating with the stones of the arch1 as in the finished example given in ,plate ,,xix4 of the first volume1 and there selected in preference to other examples of archivolt decoration1 because furnishing a complete type of the master school from which the ,venetian ,gothic is derived4 ,,xxxvii4 ,the arch from ,st4 ,fermo1 however1 fig4 #d1 ,plate ,,xvii41 corresponds more closely1 in its entire simplicity1 with the little windows from the ,campiello ,san ,rocco2 and with the type #e set beside it in ,plate ,,xvii41 from a very ancient house in the ,corte del ,forno at ,santa ,marina 7all in brick72 while the upper examples1 #a and #b1 show the use of the flat but highly enriched architrave1 for the connection of which with ,byzantine work see the final ,appendix1 ,vol4 ,,iii41 under the head ,archivolt4 ,these windows 7figs4 #a and #b1 ,plate ,,xvii47 are from a narrow alley in a part of ,venice now exclusively inhabited by the lower orders1 close to the arsenal2#ij they are entirely wrought in brick1 with exquisite mouldings1 not cast1 but moulded in the clay by the hand1 so that there is not one piece of the arch like another2 the pilasters and shafts being1 as usual1 of stone4 ,,xxxviii4 ,and here let me pause for a moment1 to note what one should have thought was well enough known in ,england1--yet ,i could not perhaps touch upon anything less considered1--the real use of brick4 ,our fields of good clay were never given us to be made into oblong morsels of one size4 ,they were given us that we might play with them1 and that men who could not handle a chisel1 might knead out of them some expression of human thought4 ,in the ancient architecture of the clay districts of ,italy1 every possible adaptation of the material is found exemplified3 from the coarsest and most brittle kinds1 used in the mass of the structure1 to bricks for arches and plinths1 cast in the most perfect curves1 and of almost every size1 strength1 and hardness2 and moulded bricks1 wrought into flower-work and tracery as fine as raised patterns upon china4 ,and1 just as many of the finest works of the ,italian sculptors were executed in porcelain1 many of the best thoughts of their architects are expressed in brick1 or in the softer material of terra cotta2 and if this were so in ,italy1 where there is not one city from whose towers we may not descry the blue outline of ,alp or ,apennine1 everlasting quarries of granite or marble1 how much more ought it to be so among the fields of ,england6 ,i believe that the best academy for her architects1 for some half century to come1 would be the brick-field2 for of this they may rest assured1 that till they know how to use clay1 they will never know how to use marble4 ,,xxxix4 ,and now observe1 as we pass from fig4 #b to fig4 #c1 and from fig4 #e to fig4 #f1 in ,plate ,,xvii41 a most interesting step of transition4 ,as we saw above1 ,,xiv41 the round arch yielding to the ,gothic1 by allowing a point to emerge at its summit1 so here we have the ,gothic conceding something to the form which had been assumed by the round2 and itself slightly altering its outline so as to meet the condescension of the round arch half way4 ,at page #acg of the first volume1 ,i have drawn to scale one of these minute concessions of the pointed arch1 granted at ,verona out of pure courtesy to the ,venetian forms1 by one of the purest ,gothic ornaments in the world2 and the small window here1 fig4 #f1 is a similar example at ,venice itself1 from the ,campo ,santa ,maria ,mater ,domini1 where the reversed curve at the head of the pointed arch is just perceptible and no more4 ,the other examples1 figs4 #c and #g1 the first from a small but very noble house in the ,merceria1 the second from an isolated palace at ,murano1 show more advanced conditions of the reversed curve1 which1 though still employing the broad decorated architrave of the earlier examples1 are in all other respects prepared for the transition to the simple window of the fifth order4 ,,xl4 ,the next example1 the uppermost of the three lower series in ,plate ,,xvii41 shows this order in its early purity2 associated with intermediate decorations like those of the ,byzantines1 from a palace once belonging to the ,erizzo family1 near the ,arsenal4 ,the ornaments appear to be actually of ,greek workmanship 7except1 perhaps1 the two birds over the central arch1 which are bolder1 and more free in treatment71 and built into the ,gothic fronts2 showing1 however1 the early date of the whole by the manner of their insertion1 corresponding exactly with that employed in the ,byzantine palaces1 and by the covering of the intermediate spaces with sheets of marble1 which1 however1 instead of being laid over the entire wall1 are now confined to the immediate spaces between and above the windows1 and are bounded by a dentil moulding4 ,in the example below this the ,byzantine ornamentation has vanished1 and the fifth order window is seen in its generic form1 as commonly employed throughout the early ,gothic period4 ,such arcades are of perpetual occurrence2 the one in the ,plate was taken from a small palace on the ,grand ,canal1 nearly opposite the ,casa ,foscari4 ,one point in it deserves especial notice1 the increased size of the lateral window as compared with the rest3 a circumstance which occurs in a great number of the groups of windows belonging to this period1 and for which ,i have never been able to account4 ,,xli4 ,both these figures have been most carefully engraved2 and the uppermost will give the reader a perfectly faithful idea of the general effect of the ,byzantine sculptures1 and of the varied alabaster among which they are inlaid1 as well as of the manner in which these pieces are set together1 every joint having been drawn on the spot3 and the transition from the embroidered and silvery richness of this architecture1 in which the ,byzantine ornamentation was associated with the ,gothic form of arch1 to the simplicity of the pure ,gothic arcade as seen in the lower figure1 is one of the most remarkable phenomena in the history of ,venetian art4 ,if it had occurred suddenly1 and at an earlier period1 it might have been traced partly to the hatred of the ,greeks1 consequent upon the treachery of ,manuel ,comnenus1#ia and the fatal war to which it led2 but the change takes place gradually1 and not till a much later period4 ,i hoped to have been able to make some careful inquiries into the habits of domestic life of the ,venetians before and after the dissolution of their friendly relations with ,constantinople2 but the labor necessary for the execution of my more immediate task has entirely prevented this3 and ,i must be content to lay the succession of the architectural styles plainly before the reader1 and leave the collateral questions to the investigation of others2 merely noting this one assured fact1 that the root of all that is greatest in ,christian art is struck in the thirteenth century2 that the temper of that century is the life-blood of all manly work thenceforward in ,europe2 and ,i suppose that one of its peculiar characteristics was elsewhere1 as assuredly in ,florence1 a singular simplicity in domestic life3 ,i saw ,bellincion ,berti walk abroad ,in leathern girdle1 and a clasp of bone2 ,and1 with no artful coloring on her cheeks1 ,his lady leave the glass4 ,the sons ,i saw ,of ,verli and of ,vecchio1 well content ,with unrobed jerkin1 and their good dames handling ,the spindle and the flax4444 ,one waked to tend the cradle1 hushing it ,with sounds that lulled the parents' infancy2 ,another1 with her maidens1 drawing off ,the tresses from the distaff1 lectured them ,old tales of ,troy1 and ,fesole1 and ,rome4#ib ,,xlii4 ,such1 then1 is the simple fact at ,venice1 that from the beginning of the thirteenth century there is found a singular increase of simplicity in all architectural ornamentation2 the rich ,byzantine capitals giving place to a pure and severe type hereafter to be described1#ic and the rich sculptures vanishing from the walls1 nothing but the marble facing remaining4 ,one of the most interesting examples of this transitional state is a palace at ,san ,severo1 just behind the ,casa ,zorzi4 ,this latter is a ,renaissance building1 utterly worthless in every respect1 but known to the ,venetian ,ciceroni2 and by inquiring for it1 and passing a little beyond it down the ,fondamenta ,san ,severo1 the traveller will see1 on the other side of the canal1 a palace which the ,ciceroni never notice1 but which is unique in ,venice for the magnificence of the veined purple alabasters with which it has been decorated1 and for the manly simplicity of the foliage of its capitals4 ,except in these1 it has no sculpture whatever1 and its effect is dependent entirely on color4 ,disks of green serpentine are inlaid on the field of purple alabaster2 and the pillars are alternately of red marble with white capitals1 and of white marble with red capitals4 ,its windows appear of the third order2 and the back of the palace1 in a small and most picturesque court1 shows a group of windows which are1 perhaps1 the most superb examples of that order in ,venice4 ,but the windows to the front have1 ,i think1 been of the fifth order1 and their cusps have been cut away4 ,,xliii4 ,when the ,gothic feeling began more decidedly to establish itself1 it evidently became a question with the ,venetian builders1 how the intervals between the arches1 now left blank by the abandonment of the ,byzantine sculptures1 should be enriched in accordance with the principles of the new school4 ,two most important examples are left of the experiments made at this period3 one at the ,ponte del ,forner1 at ,san ,cassano1 a noble house in which the spandrils of the windows are filled by the emblems of the four ,evangelists1 sculptured in deep relief1 and touching the edges of the arches with their expanded wings2 the other now known as the ,palazzo ,cicogna1 near the church of ,san ,sebastiano1 in the quarter called of the ,archangel ,raphael1 in which a large space of wall above the windows is occupied by an intricate but rude tracery of involved quatrefoils4 ,of both these palaces ,i purposed to give drawings in my folio work2 but ,i shall probably be saved the trouble by the publication of the beautiful calotypes lately made at ,venice of both2 and it is unnecessary to represent them here1 as they are unique in ,venetian architecture1 with the single exception of an unimportant imitation of the first of them in a little by-street close to the ,campo ,sta4 ,maria ,formosa4 ,for the question as to the mode of decorating the interval between the arches was suddenly and irrevocably determined by the builder of the ,ducal ,palace1 who1 as we have seen1 taking his first idea from the traceries of the ,frari1 and arranging those traceries as best fitted his own purpose1 designed the great arcade 7the lowest of the three in ,plate ,,xvii471 which thenceforward became the established model for every work of importance in ,venice4 ,the palaces built on this model1 however1 most of them not till the beginning of the fifteenth century1 belong properly to the time of the ,renaissance2 and what little we have to note respecting them may be more clearly stated in connexion with other facts characteristic of that period4 ,,xliv4 ,as the examples in ,plate ,,xvii4 are necessarily confined to the upper parts of the windows1 ,i have given in the ,plate opposite 7,,xviii#id7 examples of the fifth order window1 both in its earliest and in its fully developed form1 completed from base to keystone4 ,the upper example is a beautiful group from a small house1 never of any size or pretension1 and now inhabited only by the poor1 in the ,campiello della ,strope1 close to the ,church of ,san ,giacomo de ,lorio4 ,it is remarkable for its excessive purity of curve1 and is of very early date1 its mouldings being simpler than usual4#ie ,the lower example is from the second story of a palace belonging to the ,priuli family1 near ,san ,lorenzo1 and shows one feature to which our attention has not hitherto been directed1 namely1 the penetration of the cusp1 leaving only a silver thread of stone traced on the darkness of the window4 ,i need not say that1 in this condition1 the cusp ceases to have any constructive use1 and is merely decorative1 but often exceedingly beautiful4 ,the steps of transition from the early solid cusp to this slender thread are noticed in the final ,appendix1 under the head ,tracery ,bars2 the commencement of the change being in the thinning of the stone1 which is not cut through until it is thoroughly emaciated4 ,generally speaking1 the condition in which the cusp is found is a useful test of age1 when compared with other points2 the more solid it is1 the more ancient3 but the massive form is often found associated with the perforated1 as late as the beginning of the fourteenth century4 ,in the ,ducal ,palace1 the lower or bearing traceries have the solid cusp1 and the upper traceries of the windows1 which are merely decorative41 have the perforated cusp1 both with exquisite effect4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xviii4 ,,windows ,,of ,,the ,,fifth ,,order4 ,,xlv4 ,the smaller balconies between the great shafts in the lower example in ,plate ,,xviii4 are original and characteristic3 not so the lateral one of the detached window1 which has been restored2 but by imagining it to be like that represented in fig4 #a1 ,plate ,,xiii41 above1 which is a perfect window of the finest time of the fifth order1 the reader will be enabled to form a complete idea of the external appearance of the principal apartments in the house of a noble of ,venice1 at the beginning of the fourteenth century4 ,,xlvi4 ,whether noble1 or merchant1 or1 as frequently happened1 both1 every ,venetian appears1 at this time1 to have raised his palace or dwelling-house upon one type4 ,under every condition of importance1 through every variation of size1 the forms and mode of decoration of all the features were universally alike2 not servilely alike1 but fraternally2 not with the sameness of coins cast from one mould1 but with the likeness of the members of one family4 ,no fragment of the period is preserved1 in which the windows1 be they few or many1 a group of three or an arcade of thirty1 have not the noble cusped arch of the fifth order4 ,and they are especially to be noted by us at this day1 because these refined and richly ornamented forms were used in the habitations of a nation as laborious1 as practical1 as brave1 and as prudent as ourselves2 and they were built at a time when that nation was struggling with calamities and changes threatening its existence almost every hour4 ,and1 farther1 they are interesting because perfectly applicable to modern habitation4 ,the refinement of domestic life appears to have been far advanced in ,venice from her earliest days2 and the remains of her ,gothic palaces are1 at this day1 the most delightful residences in the city1 having undergone no change in external form1 and probably having been rather injured than rendered more convenient by the modifications which poverty and ,renaissance taste1 contending with the ravages of time1 have introduced in the interiors4 ,so that1 in ,venice1 and the cities grouped around it1 ,vicenza1 ,padua1 and ,verona1 the traveller may ascertain1 by actual experience1 the effect which would be produced upon the comfort or luxury of daily life by the revival of the ,gothic school of architecture4 ,he can still stand upon the marble balcony in the soft summer air1 and feel its smooth surface warm from the noontide as he leans on it in the twilight2 he can still see the strong sweep of the unruined traceries drawn on the deep serenity of the starry sky1 and watch the fantastic shadows of the clustered arches shorten in the moonlight on the chequered floor2 or he may close the casements fitted to their unshaken shafts against such wintry winds as would have made an ,english house vibrate to its foundation1 and1 in either case1 compare their influence on his daily home feeling with that of the square openings in his ,english wall4 ,,xlvii4 ,and let him be assured1 if he find there is more to be enjoyed in the ,gothic window1 there is also more to be trusted4 ,it is the best and strongest building1 as it is the most beautiful4 ,i am not now speaking of the particular form of ,venetian ,gothic1 but of the general strength of the pointed arch as opposed to that of the level lintel of the square window2 and ,i plead for the introduction of the ,gothic form into our domestic architecture1 not merely because it is lovely1 but because it is the only form of faithful1 strong1 enduring1 and honorable building1 in such materials as come daily to our hands4 ,by increase of scale and cost1 it is possible to build1 in any style1 what will last for ages2 but only in the ,gothic is it possible to give security and dignity to work wrought with imperfect means and materials4 ,and ,i trust that there will come a time when the ,english people may see the folly of building basely and insecurely4 ,it is common with those architects against whose practice my writings have hitherto been directed1 to call them merely theoretical and imaginative4 ,i answer1 that there is not a single principle asserted either in the ,seven ,lamps or here1 but is of the simplest1 sternest veracity1 and the easiest practicability2 that buildings1 raised as ,i would have them1 would stand unshaken for a thousand years2 and the buildings raised by the architects who oppose them will not stand for one hundred and fifty1 they sometimes do not stand for an hour4 ,there is hardly a week passes without some catastrophe brought about by the base principles of modern building2 some vaultless floor that drops the staggering crowd through the jagged rents of its rotten timbers2 some baseless bridge that is washed away by the first wave of a summer flood2 some fungous wall of nascent rottenness that a thunder-shower soaks down with its workmen into a heap of slime and death4#if ,these we hear of1 day by day3 yet these indicate but the thousandth part of the evil4 ,the portion of the national income sacrificed in mere bad building1 in the perpetual repairs1 and swift condemnation and pulling down of ill-built shells of houses1 passes all calculation4 ,and the weight of the penalty is not yet felt2 it will tell upon our children some fifty years hence1 when the cheap work1 and contract work1 and stucco and plaster work1 and bad iron work1 and all the other expedients of modern rivalry1 vanity1 and dishonesty1 begin to show themselves for what they are4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxv4 ,,xlviii4 ,indeed1 dishonesty and false economy will no more build safely in ,gothic than in any other style3 but of all forms which we could possibly employ1 to be framed hastily and out of bad materials1 the common square window is the worst2 and its level head of brickwork 7a1 ,fig4 ,,xxxv47 is the weakest way of covering a space4 ,indeed1 in the hastily heaped shells of modern houses1 there may be seen often even a worse manner of placing the bricks1 as at b1 supporting them by a bit of lath till the mortar dries2 but even when worked with the utmost care1 and having every brick tapered into the form of a voussoir and accurately fitted1 ,i have seen such a window-head give way1 and a wide fissure torn through all the brickwork above it1 two years after it was built2 while the pointed arch of the ,veronese ,gothic1 wrought in brick also1 occurs at every corner of the streets of the city1 untouched since the thirteenth century1 and without a single flaw4 ,,xlix4 ,neither can the objection1 so often raised against the pointed arch1 that it will not admit the convenient adjustment of modern sashes and glass1 hold for an instant4 ,there is not the smallest necessity1 because the arch is pointed1 that the aperture should be so4 ,the work of the arch is to sustain the building above2 when this is once done securely1 the pointed head of it may be filled in any way we choose4 ,in the best cathedral doors it is always filled by a shield of solid stone2 in many early windows of the best ,gothic it is filled in the same manner1 the introduced slab of stone becoming a field for rich decoration2 and there is not the smallest reason why lancet windows1 used in bold groups1 with each pointed arch filled by a sculptured tympanum1 should not allow as much light to enter1 and in as convenient a way1 as the most luxuriously glazed square windows of our brick houses4 ,give the groups of associated lights bold gabled canopies2 charge the gables with sculpture and color2 and instead of the base and almost useless ,greek portico1 letting the rain and wind enter it at will1 build the steeply vaulted and completely sheltered ,gothic porch2 and on all these fields for rich decoration let the common workman carve what he pleases1 to the best of his power1 and we may have a school of domestic architecture in the nineteenth century1 which will make our children grateful to us1 and proud of us1 till the thirtieth4 ,l4 ,there remains only one important feature to be examined1 the entrance gate or door4 ,we have already observed that the one seems to pass into the other1 a sign of increased love of privacy rather than of increased humility1 as the ,gothic palaces assume their perfect form4 ,in the ,byzantine palaces the entrances appear always to have been rather great gates than doors1 magnificent semicircular arches opening to the water1 and surrounded by rich sculpture in the archivolts4 ,one of these entrances is seen in the small woodcut above1 ,fig4 ,,xxv41 and another has been given carefully in my folio work3 their sculpture is generally of grotesque animals scattered among leafage1 without any definite meaning2 but the great outer entrance of ,st4 ,mark's1 which appears to have been completed some time after the rest of the fabric1 differs from all others in presenting a series of subjects altogether ,gothic in feeling1 selection1 and vitality of execution1 and which show the occult entrance of the ,gothic spirit before it had yet succeeded in effecting any modification of the ,byzantine forms4 ,these sculptures represent the months of the year employed in the avocations usually attributed to them throughout the whole compass of the middle ages1 in ,northern architecture and manuscript calendars1 and at last exquisitely versified by ,spenser4 ,for the sake of the traveller in ,venice1 who should examine this archivolt carefully1 ,i shall enumerate these sculptures in their order1 noting such parallel representations as ,i remember in other work4 ,,li4 ,there are four successive archivolts1 one within the other1 forming the great central entrance of ,st4 ,mark's4 ,the first is a magnificent external arch1 formed of obscure figures mingled among masses of leafage1 as in ordinary ,byzantine work2 within this there is a hemispherical dome1 covered with modern mosaic2 and at the back of this recess the other three archivolts follow consecutively1 two sculptured1 one plain2 the one with which we are concerned is the outermost4 ,it is carved both on its front and under-surface or soffit2 on the front are seventeen female figures bearing scrolls1 from which the legends are unfortunately effaced4 ,these figures were once gilded on a dark blue ground1 as may still be seen in ,gentile ,bellini's picture of ,st4 ,mark's in the ,accademia delle ,belle ,arti4 ,the sculptures of the months are on the under-surface1 beginning at the bottom on the left hand of the spectator as he enters1 and following in succession round the archivolt2 separated1 however1 into two groups1 at its centre1 by a beautiful figure of the youthful ,christ1 sitting in the midst of a slightly hollowed sphere covered with stars to represent the firmament1 and with the attendant sun and moon1 set one on each side to rule over the day and over the night4 ,,lii4 ,the months are personified as follows3-- #a4 ,,january1 ,carrying home a noble tree on his shoulders1 the leafage of which nods forwards1 and falls nearly to his feet4 ,superbly cut4 ,this is a rare representation of him4 ,more frequently he is represented as the two-headed ,janus1 sitting at a table1 drinking at one mouth and eating at the other4 ,sometimes as an old man1 warming his feet at a fire1 and drinking from a bowl2 though this type is generally reserved for ,february4 ,spenser1 however1 gives the same symbol as that on ,st4 ,mark's3 ,numbd with holding all the day ,an hatchet keene1 with which he felled wood4 ,his sign1 ,aquarius1 is obscurely indicated in the archivolt by some wavy lines representing water1 unless the figure has been broken away4 #b4 ,,february4 ,sitting in a carved chair1 warming his bare feet at a blazing fire4 ,generally1 when he is thus represented1 there is a pot hung over the fire1 from the top of the chimney4 ,sometimes he is pruning trees1 as in ,spenser3 ,yet had he by his side ,his plough and harnesse fit to till the ground1 ,and tooles to prune the trees4 ,not unfrequently1 in the calendars1 this month is represented by a female figure carrying candles1 in honor of the ,purification of the ,virgin4 ,his sign1 ,pisces1 is prominently carved above him4 #c4 ,,march4 ,here1 as almost always in ,italy1 a warrior3 the ,mars of the ,latins being of course1 in medival work1 made representative of the military power of the place and period2 and thus1 at ,venice1 having the winged ,lion painted upon his shield4 ,in ,northern work1 however1 ,i think ,march is commonly employed in pruning trees2 or1 at least1 he is so when that occupation is left free for him by ,february's being engaged with the ceremonies of ,candlemas4 ,sometimes1 also1 he is reaping a low and scattered kind of grain2 and by ,spenser1 who exactly marks the junction of medival and classical feeling1 his military and agricultural functions are united1 while also1 in the ,latin manner1 he is made the first of the months4 ,first sturdy ,march1 with brows full sternly bent1 ,and armed strongly1 rode upon a ,ram1 ,the same which over ,hellespontus swam2 ,yet in his hand a spade he also bent1 ,and in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame1#ig ,which on the earth he strowed as he went4 ,his sign1 the ,ram1 is very superbly carved above him in the archivolt4 #d4 ,,april4 ,here1 carrying a sheep upon his shoulder4 ,a rare representation of him4 ,in ,northern work he is almost universally gathering flowers1 or holding them triumphantly in each hand4 ,the ,spenserian mingling of this medival image with that of his being wet with showers1 and wanton with love1 by turning his zodiacal sign1 ,taurus1 into the bull of ,europa1 is altogether exquisite4 ,upon a ,bull he rode1 the same which led ,europa floting through the ,argolick fluds3 ,his horns were gilden all with golden studs1 ,and garnished with garlonds goodly dight ,of all the fairest flowres and freshest buds ,which th' earth brings forth2 and wet he seemed in sight ,with waves1 through which he waded for his love's delight4 #e4 ,,may is seated1 while two young maidens crown him with flowers4 ,a very unusual representation1 even in ,italy2 where1 as in the ,north1 he is almost always riding out hunting or hawking1 sometimes playing on a musical instrument4 ,in ,spenser1 this month is personified as the fayrest mayd on ground1 borne on the shoulders of the ,twins4 ,in this archivolt there are only two heads to represent the zodiacal sign4 ,the summer and autumnal months are always represented in a series of agricultural occupations1 which1 of course1 vary with the locality in which they occur2 but generally in their order only4 ,thus1 if ,june is mowing1 ,july is reaping2 if ,july is mowing1 ,august is reaping2 and so on4 ,i shall give a parallel view of some of these varieties presently2 but1 meantime1 we had better follow the ,st ,mark's series1 as it is peculiar in some respects4 #f4 ,,june4 ,reaping4 ,the corn and sickle sculptured with singular care and precision1 in bold relief1 and the zodiacal sign1 the ,crab1 above1 also worked with great spirit4 ,spenser puts plough irons into his hand4 ,sometimes he is sheep-shearing2 and1 in ,english and northern ,french manuscripts1 carrying a kind of fagot or barrel1 of the meaning of which ,i am not certain4 #g4 ,,july4 ,mowing4 ,a very interesting piece of sculpture1 owing to the care with which the flowers are wrought out among the long grass4 ,i do not remember ever finding ,july but either reaping or mowing4 ,spenser works him hard1 and puts him to both labors3 ,behinde his backe a sithe1 and by his side ,under his belt he bore a sickle circling wide4 #h4 ,,august4 ,peculiarly represented in this archivolt1 sitting in a chair1 with his head upon his hand1 as if asleep2 the ,virgin 7the zodiacal sign7 above him1 lifting up her hand4 ,this appears to be a peculiarly ,italian version of the proper employment of ,august4 ,in ,northern countries he is generally threshing1 or gathering grapes4 ,spenser merely clothes him with gold1 and makes him lead forth the righteous ,virgin1 which of old ,lived here on earth1 and plenty made abound4 #i4 ,,september4 ,bearing home grapes in a basket4 ,almost always sowing1 in ,northern work4 ,by ,spenser1 with his usual exquisite ingenuity1 employed in gathering in the general harvest1 and portioning it out with the ,scales1 his zodiacal sign4 #aj4 ,,october4 ,wearing a conical hat1 and digging busily with a long spade4 ,in ,northern work he is sometimes a vintager1 sometimes beating the acorns out of an oak to feed swine4 ,when ,september is vintaging1 ,october is generally sowing4 ,spenser employs him in the harvest both of vine and olive4 #aa4 ,,november4 ,seems to be catching small birds in a net4 ,i do not remember him so employed elsewhere4 ,he is nearly always killing pigs2 sometimes beating the oak for them2 with ,spenser1 fatting them4 #ab4 ,,december4 ,killing swine4 ,it is hardly ever that this employment is not given to one or other of the terminal months of the year4 ,if not so engaged1 ,december is usually putting new loaves into the oven2 sometimes killing oxen4 ,spenser properly makes him feasting and drinking instead of ,january4 ,,liii4 ,on the next page ,i have given a parallel view of the employment of the months from some ,northern manuscripts1 in order that they may be more conveniently compared with the sculptures of ,st4 ,mark's1 in their expression of the varieties of climate and agricultural system4 ,observe that the letter 7f47 in some of the columns1 opposite the month of ,may1 means that he has a falcon on his fist2 being1 in those cases1 represented as riding out1 in high exultation1 on a caparisoned white horse4 ,a series nearly similar to that of ,st4 ,mark's occurs on the door of the ,cathedral of ,lucca1 and on that of the ,baptistery of ,pisa2 in which1 however1 if ,i recollect rightly1 ,february is fishing1 and ,may has something resembling an umbrella in his hand1 instead of a hawk4 ,but1 in all cases1 the figures are treated with the peculiar spirit of the ,gothic sculptors2 and this archivolt is the first expression of that spirit which is to be found in ,venice4 ,,second ,,period ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------- ,,ms4 ,french4 ,,ms4 ,french4 ,,ms4 ,french4 ,st4 ,mark's4 ,late #acth ,late #acth ,late #acth ,century ,century ,century ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------- ,january ,carrying wood4,janus feasting4,janus feasting4,drinking and stirring fire4 ,february ,warming feet4 ,warming feet4 ,warming feet4 ,pruning4 ,march ,going to war4 ,pruning4 ,pruning4 ,striking with axe4 ,april ,carrying ,gathering ,gathering ,gathering sheep4 flowers4 flowers4 flowers4 ,may ,crowned with ,riding 7f474 ,riding 7f474 ,playing flowers4 violin4 ,june ,reaping4 ,mowing4 ,mowing4 ,gathering large red flowers4 ,july ,mowing4 ,reaping4 ,reaping4 ,mowing4 ,august ,asleep4 ,threshing4 ,gathering ,reaping4 grapes4 ,september,carrying ,sowing4 ,sowing4 ,drinking wine4 grapes4 ,october ,digging4 ,gathering ,beating oak4 ,sowing4 grapes4 ,november ,catching ,beating oak4 ,killing swine4 ,killing swine4 birds4 ,december ,killing swine4,killing swine4 ,baking4 ,killing oxen4 ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------------------------- ,,ms4 ,french4 ,,ms4 ,english4 ,,ms4 ,flemish4 ,early #adth ,century4,early #aeth ,century4 #aeth ,century4 ---------------------------------------- ------------------------- ,january ,warming feet4 ,janus feasting4 ,feasting ,february ,bearing candles4 ,warming feet4 ,warming hands4 ,march ,pruning4 ,carrying candles4 ,reaping4 ,april ,gathering flowers4 ,pruning4 ,gathering flowers4 ,may ,riding 7f474 ,riding 7f474 ,riding with lady on pillion4 ,june ,carrying 7fagots87 ,carrying fagots4 ,sheep-shearing4 ,july ,mowing4 ,mowing4 ,mowing4 ,august ,reaping4 ,reaping4 ,reaping4 ,september,threshing4 ,threshing4 ,sowing4 ,october ,sowing4 ,sowing4 ,beating oak4 ,november ,killing swine4 ,killing swine4 ,pressing 7grapes87 ,december ,baking4 ,baking4 ,killing swine4 ---------------------------------------- ------------------------- ,,liv4 ,in the private palaces1 the entrances soon admitted some concession to the ,gothic form also4 ,they pass through nearly the same conditions of change as the windows1 with these three differences3 first1 that no arches of the fantastic fourth order occur in any doorways2 secondly1 that the pure pointed arch occurs earlier1 and much oftener1 in doorways than in window-heads2 lastly1 that the entrance itself1 if small1 is nearly always square-headed in the earliest examples1 without any arch above1 but afterwards the arch is thrown across above the lintel4 ,the interval between the two1 or tympanum1 is filled with sculpture1 or closed by iron bars1 with sometimes a projecting gable1 to form a porch1 thrown over the whole1 as in the perfect example1 #g a1 ,plate ,,xiv41 above4 ,the other examples in the two lower lines1 #f and #g1 of that ,plate are each characteristic of an enormous number of doors1 variously decorated1 from the thirteenth to the close of the fifteenth century4 ,the particulars of their mouldings are given in the final ,appendix4 ,,lv4 ,it was useless1 on the small scale of this ,plate1 to attempt any delineation of the richer sculptures with which the arches are filled2 so that ,i have chosen for it the simplest examples ,i could find of the forms to be illustrated3 but1 in all the more important instances1 the door-head is charged either with delicate ornaments and inlaid patterns in variously colored brick1 or with sculptures1 consisting always of the shield or crest of the family1 protected by an angel4 ,of these more perfect doorways ,i have given three examples carefully1 in my folio work2 but ,i must repeat here one part of the account of their subjects given in its text1 for the convenience of those to whom the larger work may not be accessible4 ,,lvi4 ,in the earlier ages1 all agree thus far1 that the name of the family is told1 and together with it there is always an intimation that they have placed their defence and their prosperity in ,god's hands2 frequently accompanied with some general expression of benediction to the person passing over the threshold4 ,this is the general theory of an old ,venetian doorway2--the theory of modern doorways remains to be explained3 it may be studied to advantage in our rows of new-built houses1 or rather of new-built house1 changeless for miles together1 from which1 to each inhabitant1 we allot his proper quantity of windows1 and a ,doric portico4 ,the ,venetian carried out his theory very simply4 ,in the centre of the archivolt we find almost invariably1 in the older work1 the hand between the sun and moon in the attitude of blessing1 expressing the general power and presence of ,god1 the source of light4 ,on the tympanum is the shield of the family4 ,venetian heraldry requires no beasts for supporters1 but usually prefers angels1 neither the supporters nor crests forming any necessary part of ,venetian bearings4 ,sometimes1 however1 human figures1 or grotesques1 are substituted2 but1 in that case1 an angel is almost always introduced above the shield1 bearing a globe in his left hand1 and therefore clearly intended for the ',angel of the ,lord1' or1 as it is expressed elsewhere1 the ',angel of ,his ,presence4' ,where elaborate sculpture of this kind is inadmissible1 the shield is merely represented as suspended by a leather thong2 and a cross is introduced above the archivolt4 ,the ,renaissance architects perceived the irrationality of all this1 cut away both crosses and angels1 and substituted heads of satyrs1 which were the proper presiding deities of ,venice in the ,renaissance periods1 and which in our own domestic institutions1 we have ever since1 with much piety and sagacity1 retained4 ,,lvii4 ,the habit of employing some religious symbol1 or writing some religious legend1 over the door of the house1 does not entirely disappear until far into the period of the ,renaissance4 ,the words ,peace be to this house occur on one side of a ,veronese gateway1 with the appropriate and veracious inscription ,s4,p4,q4,r41 on a ,roman standard1 on the other2 and ,blessed is he that cometh in the name of the ,lord1 is written on one of the doorways of a building added at the flank of the ,casa ,barbarigo1 in the sixteenth or seventeenth century4 ,it seems to be only modern ,protestantism which is entirely ashamed of all symbols and words that appear in anywise like a confession of faith4 ,,lviii4 ,this peculiar feeling is well worthy of attentive analysis4 ,it indeed1 in most cases1 hardly deserves the name of a feeling2 for the meaningless doorway is merely an ignorant copy of heathen models3 but yet1 if it were at this moment proposed to any of us1 by our architects1 to remove the grinning head of a satyr1 or other classical or ,palladian ornament1 from the keystone of the door1 and to substitute for it a cross1 and an inscription testifying our faith1 ,i believe that most persons would shrink from the proposal with an obscure and yet overwhelming sense that things would be sometimes done1 and thought1 within the house which would make the inscription on its gate a base hypocrisy4 ,and if so1 let us look to it1 whether that strong reluctance to utter a definite religious profession1 which so many of us feel1 and which1 not very carefully examining into its dim nature1 we conclude to be modesty1 or fear of hypocrisy1 or other such form of amiableness1 be not1 in very deed1 neither less nor more than ,infidelity2 whether ,peter's ,i know not the man be not the sum and substance of all these misgivings and hesitations2 and whether the shamefacedness which we attribute to sincerity and reverence1 be not such shamefacedness as may at last put us among those of whom the ,son of ,man shall be ashamed4 ,,lix4 ,such are the principal circumstances to be noted in the external form and details of the ,gothic palaces2 of their interior arrangements there is little left unaltered4 ,the gateways which we have been examining almost universally lead1 in the earlier palaces1 into a long interior court1 round which the mass of the palace is built2 and in which its first story is reached by a superb external staircase1 sustained on four or five pointed arches gradually increasing as they ascend1 both in height and span1--this change in their size being1 so far as ,i remember1 peculiar to ,venice1 and visibly a consequence of the habitual admission of arches of different sizes in the ,byzantine faades4 ,these staircases are protected by exquisitely carved parapets1 like those of the outer balconies1 with lions or grotesque heads set on the angles1 and with true projecting balconies on their landing-places4 ,in the centre of the court there is always a marble well2 and these wells furnish some of the most superb examples of ,venetian sculpture4 ,i am aware only of one remaining from the ,byzantine period2 it is octagonal1 and treated like the richest of our ,norman fonts3 but the ,gothic wells of every date1 from the thirteenth century downwards1 are innumerable1 and full of beauty1 though their form is little varied2 they being1 in almost every case1 treated like colossal capitals of pillars1 with foliage at the angles1 and the shield of the family upon their sides4 ,,lx4 ,the interior apartments always consist of one noble hall on the first story1 often on the second also1 extending across the entire depth of the house1 and lighted in front by the principal groups of its windows1 while smaller apartments open from it on either side4 ,the ceilings1 where they remain untouched1 are of bold horizontal beams1 richly carved and gilded2 but few of these are left from the true ,gothic times1 the ,venetian interiors having1 in almost every case1 been remodelled by the ,renaissance architects4 ,this change1 however1 for once1 we cannot regret1 as the walls and ceilings1 when so altered1 were covered with the noblest works of ,veronese1 ,titian1 and ,tintoret2 nor the interior walls only1 but1 as before noticed1 often the exteriors also4 ,of the color decorations of the ,gothic exteriors ,i have1 therefore1 at present taken no notice1 as it will be more convenient to embrace this subject in one general view of the systems of coloring of the ,venetian palaces1 when we arrive at the period of its richest developement4#ih ,the details1 also1 of most interest1 respecting the forms and transitional decoration of their capitals1 will be given in the final ,appendix to the next volume1 where we shall be able to include in our inquiry the whole extent of the ,gothic period2 and it remains for us1 therefore1 at present1 only to review the history1 fix the date1 and note the most important particulars in the structure of the building which at once consummates and embodies the entire system of the ,gothic architecture of ,venice1--the ,,ducal ,,palace4 ,,footnotes #ge #ch ft4 #b in41 without its cornice1 which is #aj inches deep1 and sustains pinnacles of stone #g feet high4 ,i was enabled to get the measures by a scaffolding erected in #ahea to repair the front4 #gf ,i believe the necessary upper joint is vertical1 through the uppermost lobe of the quatrefoil1 as in the figure2 but ,i have lost my memorandum of this joint4 #gg ,dice1 che non lauda per alcun modo di metter questo ,serenissimo ,dominio in tanto pericolo d' habitar un palazzo fabricato in aria4--,pareri di ,,xv4 ,architetti1 con illustrazioni dell' ,abbate ,giuseppe ,cadorin 7,venice1 #ahch71 p4 #ajd4 #gh ,il muro della sala pi grosso delle colonne sott' esso piedi uno e onze tre1 et posto in modo che onze sei sta come in aere sopra la piazza1 et onze nove dentro4--,pareri di ,,xv4 ,architetti1 p4 #dg4 #gi ,compare ,seven ,lamps1 chap4 iii4 #g4 #hj ,pareri1 above quoted1 p4 #ba4 #ha ,it is a curious proof how completely1 even so early as the beginning of the sixteenth century1 the ,venetians had lost the habit of reading the religious art of their ancient churches1 that ,sanuto1 describing this injury1 says1 that four of the ,kings in marble fell from their pinnacles above the front1 at ,st4 ,mark's church2 and presently afterwards corrects his mistake1 and apologises for it thus3 ,these were four saints1 ,st4 ,constantine1 ,st4 ,demetrius1 ,st4 ,george1 and ,st4 ,theodore1 all ,greek saints4 ,they look like ,kings4 ,observe the perfect1 because unintentional1 praise given to the old sculptor4 ,i quote the passage from the translation of these precious diaries of ,sanuto1 by my friend ,mr4 ,rawdon ,brown1 a translation which ,i hope will some day become a standard book in ,english libraries4 #hb ,i am not speaking here of iron balconies4 ,see below1 ,,xxii4 #hc ,a ,some details respecting the mechanical structure of the ,venetian balcony are given in the final ,appendix4 #hd ,i found it convenient in my own memoranda to express them simply as fourths1 seconds1 c4 ,but order is an excellent word for any known group of forms1 whether of windows1 capitals1 bases1 mouldings1 or any other architectural feature1 provided always that it be not understood in any wise to imply preminence or isolation in these groups4 ,thus ,i may rationally speak of the six orders of ,venetian windows1 provided ,i am ready to allow a ,french architect to speak of the six or seven1 or eight1 or seventy or eighty1 orders of ,norman windows1 if so many are distinguishable2 and so also we may rationally speak1 for the sake of intelligibility1 of the five orders of ,greek pillars1 provided only we understand that there may be five millions of orders as good or better1 of pillars not ,greek4 #he ,or in their own curves2 as1 on a small scale1 in the balustrade fig4 #f1 ,plate ,,xiii41 above4 #hf ,for all details of this kind1 the reader is referred to the final ,appendix in ,vol4 ,,iii4 #hg ,two threads of white marble1 each about an inch wide1 inlaid in the dark grey pavement1 indicate the road to the ,rialto from the farthest extremity of the north quarter of ,venice4 ,the peasant or traveller1 lost in the intricacy of the pathway in this portion of the city1 cannot fail1 after a few experimental traverses1 to cross these white lines1 which thenceforward he has nothing to do but to follow1 though their capricious sinuosities will try his patience not a little4 #hh ,an account of the conspiracy of ,bajamonte may be found in almost any ,venetian history2 the reader may consult ,mutinelli1 ,annali ,urbani1 lib4 iii4 #hi ,see account of series of capitals in final ,appendix4 #ij ,if the traveller desire to find them 7and they are worth seeking71 let him row from the ,fondamenta ,s4 ,biagio down the ,rio della ,tana1 and look1 on his right1 for a low house with windows in it like those in the woodcut ,no4 ,,xxxi4 above1 p4 #bef4 ,let him go in at the door of the portico in the middle of this house1 and he will find himself in a small alley1 with the windows in question on each side of him4 #ia ,the bitterness of feeling with which the ,venetians must have remembered this1 was probably the cause of their magnificent heroism in the final siege of the city under ,dandolo1 and1 partly1 of the excesses which disgraced their victory4 ,the conduct of the allied army of the ,crusaders on this occasion cannot1 however1 be brought in evidence of general barbarism in the thirteenth century3 first1 because the masses of the crusading armies were in great part composed of the refuse of the nations of ,europe2 and secondly1 because such a mode of argument might lead us to inconvenient conclusions respecting ourselves1 so long as the horses of the ,austrian cavalry are stabled in the cloister of the convent which contains the ,last ,supper of ,leonardo da ,vinci4 ,see ,appendix #c1 ,vol4 ,,iii43 ,austrian ,government in ,italy4 #ib ,it is generally better to read ten lines of any poet in the original language1 however painfully1 than ten cantos of a translation4 ,but an exception may be made in favor of ,cary's ,dante4 ,if no poet ever was liable to lose more in translation1 none was ever so carefully translated2 and ,i hardly know whether most to admire the rigid fidelity1 or the sweet and solemn harmony1 of ,cary's verse4 ,there is hardly a fault in the fragment quoted above1 except the word lectured1 for ,dante's beautiful favoleggiava2 and even in this case1 joining the first words of the following line1 the translation is strictly literal4 ,it is true that the conciseness and the rivulet-like melody of ,dante must continually be lost2 but if ,i could only read ,english1 and had to choose1 for a library narrowed by poverty1 between ,cary's ,dante and our own original ,milton1 ,i should choose ,cary without an instant's pause4 #ic ,see final ,appendix1 ,vol4 ,,iii41 under head ,capitals4 #id ,this ,plate is not from a drawing of mine4 ,it has been engraved by ,mr4 ,armytage1 with great skill1 from two daguerreotypes4 #ie ,vide final ,appendix1 under head ,archivolt4 #if ,on ,thursday1 the #bjth1 the front walls of two of the new houses now building in ,victoria ,street1 ,westminster1 fell to the ground4444 ,the roof was on1 and a massive compo cornice was put up at top1 as well as dressings to the upper windows4 ,the roof is formed by girders and #d-;brick arches in cement1 covered with asphalt to form a flat4 ,the failure is attributed to the quantity of rain which has fallen4 ,others suppose that some of the girders were defective1 and gave way1 carrying the walls with them4--,builder1 for ,january #bith1 #ahec4 ,the rest of this volume might be filled with such notices1 if we sought for them4 #ig ,ysame1 collected together4 #ih ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,i4 ,i have had considerable difficulty in the arrangement of these volumes1 so as to get the points bearing upon each other grouped in consecutive and intelligible order4 ,,chapter ,,viii4 ,,the ,,ducal ,,palace4 ,i4 ,it was stated in the commencement of the preceding chapter that the ,gothic art of ,venice was separated by the building of the ,ducal ,palace into two distinct periods2 and that in all the domestic edifices which were raised for half a century after its completion1 their characteristic and chiefly effective portions were more or less directly copied from it4 ,the fact is1 that the ,ducal ,palace was the great work of ,venice at this period1 itself the principal effort of her imagination1 employing her best architects in its masonry1 and her best painters in its decoration1 for a long series of years2 and we must receive it as a remarkable testimony to the influence which it possessed over the minds of those who saw it in its progress1 that1 while in the other cities of ,italy every palace and church was rising in some original and daily more daring form1 the majesty of this single building was able to give pause to the ,gothic imagination in its full career2 stayed the restlessness of innovation in an instant1 and forbade the powers which had created it thenceforth to exert themselves in new directions1 or endeavor to summon an image more attractive4 ,,ii4 ,the reader will hardly believe that while the architectural invention of the ,venetians was thus lost1 ,narcissus-like1 in self-contemplation1 the various accounts of the progress of the building thus admired and beloved are so confused as frequently to leave it doubtful to what portion of the palace they refer2 and that there is actually1 at the time being1 a dispute between the best ,venetian antiquaries1 whether the main faade of the palace be of the fourteenth or fifteenth century4 ,the determination of this question is of course necessary before we proceed to draw any conclusions from the style of the work2 and it cannot be determined without a careful review of the entire history of the palace1 and of all the documents relating to it4 ,i trust that this review may not be found tedious1--assuredly it will not be fruitless1--bringing many facts before us1 singularly illustrative of the ,venetian character4 ,,iii4 ,before1 however1 the reader can enter upon any inquiry into the history of this building1 it is necessary that he should be thoroughly familiar with the arrangement and names of its principal parts1 as it at present stands2 otherwise he cannot comprehend so much as a single sentence of any of the documents referring to it4 ,i must do what ,i can1 by the help of a rough plan and bird's-eye view1 to give him the necessary topographical knowledge3 ,fig4 ,,xxxvi4 opposite is a rude ground plan of the buildings round ,st4 ,mark's ,place2 and the following references will clearly explain their relative positions3 ,a4 ,st4 ,mark's ,place4 ,b4 ,piazzetta4 ,p4 ,v4 ,procuratie ,vecchie4 ,p4 ,n4 7opposite7 ,procuratie ,nuove4 ,p4 ,l4 ,libreria ,vecchia4 ,i4 ,piazzetta de' ,leoni4 ,t4 ,tower of ,st4 ,mark4 ,f ,f4 ,great ,faade of ,st4 ,mark's ,church4 ,m4 ,st4 ,mark's4 7,it is so united with the ,ducal ,palace1 that the separation cannot be indicated in the plan1 unless all the walls had been marked1 which would have confused the whole47 ,d ,d ,d4 ,ducal ,palace4 g s4 ,giant's stair4 ,c4 ,court of ,ducal ,palace4 ,j4 ,judgment angle4 c4 ,porta della ,carta4 a4 ,fig-tree angle4 p p4 ,ponte della ,paglia 7,bridge of ,straw74 ,s4 ,ponte de' ,sospiri 7,bridge of ,sighs74 ,r ,r4 ,riva de' ,schiavoni4 ,the reader will observe that the ,ducal ,palace is arranged somewhat in the form of a hollow square1 of which one side faces the ,piazzetta1 ,b1 and another the quay called the ,riva de' ,schiavoni1 ,r ,r2 the third is on the dark canal called the ,rio del ,palazzo1 and the fourth joins the ,church of ,st4 ,mark4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxvi4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxvii4 ,of this fourth side1 therefore1 nothing can be seen4 ,of the other three sides we shall have to speak constantly2 and they will be respectively called1 that towards the ,piazzetta1 the ,piazzetta ,faade2 that towards the ,riva de' ,schiavoni1 the ,sea ,faade2 and that towards the ,rio del ,palazzo1 the ,rio ,faade4 ,this ,rio1 or canal1 is usually looked upon by the traveller with great respect1 or even horror1 because it passes under the ,bridge of ,sighs4 ,it is1 however1 one of the principal thoroughfares of the city2 and the bridge and its canal together occupy1 in the mind of a ,venetian1 very much the position of ,fleet ,street and ,temple ,bar in that of a ,londoner1--at least1 at the time when ,temple ,bar was occasionally decorated with human heads4 ,the two buildings closely resemble each other in form4 ,,iv4 ,we must now proceed to obtain some rough idea of the appearance and distribution of the palace itself2 but its arrangement will be better understood by supposing ourselves raised some hundred and fifty feet above the point in the lagoon in front of it1 so as to get a general view of the ,sea ,faade and ,rio ,faade 7the latter in very steep perspective71 and to look down into its interior court4 ,fig4 ,,xxxvii4 roughly represents such a view1 omitting all details on the roofs1 in order to avoid confusion4 ,in this drawing we have merely to notice that1 of the two bridges seen on the right1 the uppermost1 above the black canal1 is the ,bridge of ,sighs2 the lower one is the ,ponte della ,paglia1 the regular thoroughfare from quay to quay1 and1 ,i believe1 called the ,bridge of ,straw1 because the boats which brought straw from the mainland used to sell it at this place4 ,the corner of the palace1 rising above this bridge1 and formed by the meeting of the ,sea ,faade and ,rio ,faade1 will always be called the ,vine angle1 because it is decorated by a sculpture of the drunkenness of ,noah4 ,the angle opposite will be called the ,fig-tree angle1 because it is decorated by a sculpture of the ,fall of ,man4 ,the long and narrow range of building1 of which the roof is seen in perspective behind this angle1 is the part of the palace fronting the ,piazzetta2 and the angle under the pinnacle most to the left of the two which terminate it will be called1 for a reason presently to be stated1 the ,judgment angle4 ,within the square formed by the building is seen its interior court 7with one of its wells71 terminated by small and fantastic buildings of the ,renaissance period1 which face the ,giant's ,stair1 of which the extremity is seen sloping down on the left4 ,v4 ,the great faade which fronts the spectator looks southward4 ,hence the two traceried windows lower than the rest1 and to the right of the spectator1 may be conveniently distinguished as the ,eastern ,windows4 ,there are two others like them1 filled with tracery1 and at the same level1 which look upon the narrow canal between the ,ponte della ,paglia and the ,bridge of ,sighs3 these we may conveniently call the ,canal ,windows4 ,the reader will observe a vertical line in this dark side of the palace1 separating its nearer and plainer wall from a long four-storied range of rich architecture4 ,this more distant range is entirely ,renaissance3 its extremity is not indicated1 because ,i have no accurate sketch of the small buildings and bridges beyond it1 and we shall have nothing whatever to do with this part of the palace in our present inquiry4 ,the nearer and undecorated wall is part of the older palace1 though much defaced by modern opening of common windows1 refittings of the brickwork1 c4 ,illustration3 ,fig4 ,,xxxviii4 ,,vi4 ,it will be observed that the faade is composed of a smooth mass of wall1 sustained on two tiers of pillars1 one above the other4 ,the manner in which these support the whole fabric will be understood at once by the rough section1 fig4 ,,xxxviii41 which is supposed to be taken right through the palace to the interior court1 from near the middle of the ,sea ,faade4 ,here a and d are the rows of shafts1 both in the inner court and on the ,faade1 which carry the main walls2 b1 c are solid walls variously strengthened with pilasters4 ,a1 ,b1 ,c are the three stories of the interior of the palace4 ,the reader sees that it is impossible for any plan to be more simple1 and that if the inner floors and walls of the stories ,a1 ,b were removed1 there could be left merely the form of a basilica1--two high walls1 carried on ranges of shafts1 and roofed by a low gable4 ,the stories ,a1 ,b are entirely modernized1 and divided into confused ranges of small apartments1 among which what vestiges remain of ancient masonry are entirely undecipherable1 except by investigations such as ,i have had neither the time nor1 as in most cases they would involve the removal of modern plastering1 the opportunity1 to make4 ,with the subdivisions of this story1 therefore1 ,i shall not trouble the reader2 but those of the great upper story1 ,c1 are highly important4 ,,vii4 ,in the bird's-eye view above1 fig4 ,,xxxvii41 it will be noticed that the two windows on the right are lower than the other four of the faade4 ,in this arrangement there is one of the most remarkable instances ,i know of the daring sacrifice of symmetry to convenience1 which was noticed in ,chap4 ,,vii4 as one of the chief noblenesses of the ,gothic schools4 ,the part of the palace in which the two lower windows occur1 we shall find1 was first built1 and arranged in four stories in order to obtain the necessary number of apartments4 ,owing to circumstances1 of which we shall presently give an account1 it became necessary1 in the beginning of the fourteenth century1 to provide another large and magnificent chamber for the meeting of the senate4 ,that chamber was added at the side of the older building2 but1 as only one room was wanted1 there was no need to divide the added portion into two stories4 ,the entire height was given to the single chamber1 being indeed not too great for just harmony with its enormous length and breadth4 ,and then came the question how to place the windows1 whether on a line with the two others1 or above them4 ,the ceiling of the new room was to be adorned by the paintings of the best masters in ,venice1 and it became of great importance to raise the light near that gorgeous roof1 as well as to keep the tone of illumination in the ,council ,chamber serene2 and therefore to introduce light rather in simple masses than in many broken streams4 ,a modern architect1 terrified at the idea of violating external symmetry1 would have sacrificed both the pictures and the peace of the council4 ,he would have placed the larger windows at the same level with the other two1 and have introduced above them smaller windows1 like those of the upper story in the older building1 as if that upper story had been continued along the faade4 ,but the old ,venetian thought of the honor of the paintings1 and the comfort of the senate1 before his own reputation4 ,he unhesitatingly raised the large windows to their proper position with reference to the interior of the chamber1 and suffered the external appearance to take care of itself4 ,and ,i believe the whole pile rather gains than loses in effect by the variation thus obtained in the spaces of wall above and below the windows4 ,,viii4 ,on the party wall1 between the second and third windows1 which faces the eastern extremity of the ,great ,council ,chamber1 is painted the ,paradise of ,tintoret2 and this wall will therefore be hereafter called the ,wall of the ,paradise4 ,in nearly the centre of the ,sea ,faade1 and between the first and second windows of the ,great ,council ,chamber1 is a large window to the ground1 opening on a balcony1 which is one of the chief ornaments of the palace1 and will be called in future the ,sea ,balcony4 ,the faade which looks on the ,piazetta is very nearly like this to the ,sea1 but the greater part of it was built in the fifteenth century1 when people had become studious of their symmetries4 ,its side windows are all on the same level4 ,two light the west end of the ,great ,council ,chamber1 one lights a small room anciently called the ,quarantia ,civil ,nuova2 the other three1 and the central one1 with a balcony like that to the ,sea1 light another large chamber1 called ,sala del ,scrutinio1 or ,hall of ,enquiry1 which extends to the extremity of the palace above the ,porta della ,carta4 ,,ix4 ,the reader is now well enough acquainted with the topography of the existing building1 to be able to follow the accounts of its history4 ,we have seen above1 that there were three principal styles of ,venetian architecture2 ,byzantine1 ,gothic1 and ,renaissance4 ,the ,ducal ,palace1 which was the great work of ,venice1 was built successively in the three styles4 ,there was a ,byzantine ,ducal ,palace1 a ,gothic ,ducal ,palace1 and a ,renaissance ,ducal ,palace4 ,the second superseded the first totally2 a few stones of it 7if indeed so much7 are all that is left4 ,but the third superseded the second in part only1 and the existing building is formed by the union of the two4 ,we shall review the history of each in succession4#ii #ast4 ,the ,,byzantine ,,palace4 ,in the year of the death of ,charlemagne1 #hac1ajj the ,venetians determined to make the island of ,rialto the seat of the government and capital of their state4 ,their ,doge1 ,angelo or ,agnello ,participazio1 instantly took vigorous means for the enlargement of the small group of buildings which were to be the nucleus of the future ,venice4 ,he appointed persons to superintend the raising of the banks of sand1 so as to form more secure foundations1 and to build wooden bridges over the canals4 ,for the offices of religion1 he built the ,church of ,st4 ,mark2 and on1 or near1 the spot where the ,ducal ,palace now stands1 he built a palace for the administration of the government4#aja ,the history of the ,ducal ,palace therefore begins with the birth of ,venice1 and to what remains of it1 at this day1 is entrusted the last representation of her power4 ,x4 ,of the exact position and form of this palace of ,participazio little is ascertained4 ,sansovino says that it was built near the ,ponte della ,paglia1 and answeringly on the ,grand ,canal1#ajb towards ,san ,giorgio2 that is to say1 in the place now occupied by the ,sea ,faade2 but this was merely the popular report of his day4 ,we know1 however1 positively1 that it was somewhere upon the site of the existing palace2 and that it had an important front towards the ,piazzetta1 with which1 as we shall see hereafter1 the present palace at one period was incorporated4 ,we know1 also1 that it was a pile of some magnificence1 from the account given by ,sagornino of the visit paid by the ,emperor ,otho the ,great1 to the ,doge ,pietro ,orseolo ,,ii4 ,the chronicler says that the ,emperor beheld carefully all the beauty of the palace2#ajc and the ,venetian historians express pride in the building's being worthy of an emperor's examination4 ,this was after the palace had been much injured by fire in the revolt against ,candiano ,,iv41#ajd and just repaired1 and richly adorned by ,orseolo himself1 who is spoken of by ,sagornino as having also adorned the chapel of the ,ducal ,palace 7,st4 ,mark's7 with ornaments of marble and gold4#aje ,there can be no doubt whatever that the palace at this period resembled and impressed the other ,byzantine edifices of the city1 such as the ,fondaco de ,turchi1 c41 whose remains have been already described2 and that1 like them1 it was covered with sculpture1 and richly adorned with gold and color4 ,,xi4 ,in the year #aajf1 it was for the second time injured by fire1#ajf but repaired before #aaaf1 when it received another emperor1 ,henry ,v4 7of ,germany71 and was again honored by imperial praise4#ajg ,between #aagc and the close of the century1 it seems to have been again repaired and much enlarged by the ,doge ,sebastian ,ziani4 ,sansovino says that this ,doge not only repaired it1 but enlarged it in every direction2#ajh and1 after this enlargement1 the palace seems to have remained untouched for a hundred years1 until1 in the commencement of the fourteenth century1 the works of the ,gothic ,palace were begun4 ,as1 therefore1 the old ,byzantine building was1 at the time when those works first interfered with it1 in the form given to it by ,ziani1 ,i shall hereafter always speak of it as the ,ziani ,palace2 and this the rather1 because the only chronicler whose words are perfectly clear respecting the existence of part of this palace so late as the year #adbb1 speaks of it as built by ,ziani4 ,the old palace1 of which half remains to this day1 was built1 as we now see it1 by ,sebastian ,ziani4#aji ,so far1 then1 of the ,byzantine ,palace4 ,,xii4 #bnd4 ,the ,,gothic ,,palace4 ,the reader1 doubtless1 recollects that the important change in the ,venetian government which gave stability to the aristocratic power took place about the year #abig1aaj under the ,doge ,pietro ,gradenigo1 a man thus characterized by ,sansovino3--,a prompt and prudent man1 of unconquerable determination and great eloquence1 who laid1 so to speak1 the foundations of the eternity of this republic1 by the admirable regulations which he introduced into the government4 ,we may now1 with some reason1 doubt of their admirableness2 but their importance1 and the vigorous will and intellect of the ,doge1 are not to be disputed4 ,venice was in the zenith of her strength1 and the heroism of her citizens was displaying itself in every quarter of the world4#aaa ,the acquiescence in the secure establishment of the aristocratic power was an expression1 by the people1 of respect for the families which had been chiefly instrumental in raising the commonwealth to such a height of prosperity4 ,the ,serrar del ,consiglio fixed the numbers of the ,senate within certain limits1 and it conferred upon them a dignity greater than they had ever before possessed4 ,it was natural that the alteration in the character of the assembly should be attended by some change in the size1 arrangement1 or decoration of the chamber in which they sat4 ,we accordingly find it recorded by ,sansovino1 that in #acja another saloon was begun on the ,rio del ,palazzo1 under the ,doge ,gradenigo1 and finished in #acji1 in which year the ,grand ,council first sat in it4#aab ,in the first year1 therefore1 of the fourteenth century1 the ,gothic ,ducal ,palace of ,venice was begun2 and as the ,byzantine ,palace was1 in its foundation1 coeval with that of the state1 so the ,gothic ,palace was1 in its foundation1 coeval with that of the aristocratic power4 ,considered as the principal representation of the ,venetian school of architecture1 the ,ducal ,palace is the ,parthenon of ,venice1 and ,gradenigo its ,pericles4 ,,xiii4 ,sansovino1 with a caution very frequent among ,venetian historians1 when alluding to events connected with the ,serrar del ,consiglio1 does not specially mention the cause for the requirement of the new chamber2 but the ,sivos ,chronicle is a little more distinct in expression4 ,in #acja1 it was determined to build a great saloon for the assembling of the ,great ,council1 and the room was built which is now called the ,sala del ,scrutinio4#aac ,now1 that is to say1 at the time when the ,sivos ,chronicle was written2 the room has long ago been destroyed1 and its name given to another chamber on the opposite side of the palace3 but ,i wish the reader to remember the date #acja1 as marking the commencement of a great architectural epoch1 in which took place the first appliance of the energy of the aristocratic power1 and of the ,gothic style1 to the works of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,the operations then begun were continued1 with hardly an interruption1 during the whole period of the prosperity of ,venice4 ,we shall see the new buildings consume1 and take the place of1 the ,ziani ,palace1 piece by piece3 and when the ,ziani ,palace was destroyed1 they fed upon themselves2 being continued round the square1 until1 in the sixteenth century1 they reached the point where they had been begun in the fourteenth1 and pursued the track they had then followed some distance beyond the junction2 destroying or hiding their own commencement1 as the serpent1 which is the type of eternity1 conceals its tail in its jaws4 ,,xiv4 ,we cannot1 therefore1 see the extremity1 wherein lay the sting and force of the whole creature1--the chamber1 namely1 built by the ,doge ,gradenigo2 but the reader must keep that commencement and the date of it carefully in his mind4 ,the body of the ,palace ,serpent will soon become visible to us4 ,the ,gradenigo ,chamber was somewhere on the ,rio ,faade1 behind the present position of the ,bridge of ,sighs2 i4e4 about the point marked on the roof by the dotted lines in the woodcut2 it is not known whether low or high1 but probably on a first story4 ,the great faade of the ,ziani ,palace being1 as above mentioned1 on the ,piazzetta1 this chamber was as far back and out of the way as possible2 secrecy and security being obviously the points first considered4 ,,xv4 ,but the newly constituted ,senate had need of other additions to the ancient palace besides the ,council ,chamber4 ,a short1 but most significant1 sentence is added to ,sansovino's account of the construction of that room4 ,there were1 near it1 he says1 the ,cancellaria1 and the ,gheba or ,gabbia1 afterwards called the ,little ,tower4#aad ,gabbia means a cage2 and there can be no question that certain apartments were at this time added at the top of the palace and on the ,rio ,faade1 which were to be used as prisons4 ,whether any portion of the old ,torresella still remains is a doubtful question2 but the apartments at the top of the palace1 in its fourth story1 were still used for prisons as late as the beginning of the seventeenth century4#aae ,i wish the reader especially to notice that a separate tower or range of apartments was built for this purpose1 in order to clear the government of the accusations so constantly made against them1 by ignorant or partial historians1 of wanton cruelty to prisoners4 ,the stories commonly told respecting the piombi of the ,ducal ,palace are utterly false4 ,instead of being1 as usually reported1 small furnaces under the leads of the palace1 they were comfortable rooms1 with good flat roofs of larch1 and carefully ventilated4#aaf ,the new chamber1 then1 and the prisons1 being built1 the ,great ,council first sat in their retired chamber on the ,rio in the year #acji4 ,,xvi4 ,now1 observe the significant progress of events4 ,they had no sooner thus established themselves in power than they were disturbed by the conspiracy of the ,tiepolos1 in the year #acaj4 ,in consequence of that conspiracy the ,council of ,ten was created1 still under the ,doge ,gradenigo2 who1 having finished his work and left the aristocracy of ,venice armed with this terrible power1 died in the year #acab1 some say by poison4 ,he was succeeded by the ,doge ,marino ,giorgio1 who reigned only one year2 and then followed the prosperous government of ,john ,soranzo4 ,there is no mention of any additions to the ,ducal ,palace during his reign1 but he was succeeded by that ,francesco ,dandolo1 the sculptures on whose tomb1 still existing in the cloisters of the ,salute1 may be compared by any traveller with those of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,of him it is recorded in the ,savina ,chronicle3 ,this ,doge also had the great gate built which is at the entry of the palace1 above which is his statue kneeling1 with the gonfalon in hand1 before the feet of the ,lion of ,st4 ,mark's4#aag ,,xvii4 ,it appears1 then1 that after the ,senate had completed their ,council ,chamber and the prisons1 they required a nobler door than that of the old ,ziani ,palace for their ,magnificences to enter by4 ,this door is twice spoken of in the government accounts of expenses1 which are fortunately preserved1#aah in the following terms3-- #acce1 ,june #a4 ,we1 ,andrew ,dandolo and ,mark ,loredano1 procurators of ,st4 ,mark's1 have paid to ,martin the stone-cutter and his associates#aai 444 for a stone of which the lion is made which is put over the gate of the palace4 #acdd1 ,november #d4 ,we have paid thirty-five golden ducats for making gold leaf1 to gild the lion which is over the door of the palace stairs4 ,the position of this door is disputed1 and is of no consequence to the reader1 the door itself having long ago disappeared1 and been replaced by the ,porta della ,carta4 ,,xviii4 ,but before it was finished1 occasion had been discovered for farther improvements4 ,the ,senate found their new ,council ,chamber inconveniently small1 and1 about thirty years after its completion1 began to consider where a larger and more magnificent one might be built4 ,the government was now thoroughly established1 and it was probably felt that there was some meanness in the retired position1 as well as insufficiency in the size1 of the ,council ,chamber on the ,rio4 ,the first definite account which ,i find of their proceedings1 under these circumstances1 is in the ,caroldo ,chronicle3#abj #acdj4 ,on the #bhth of ,december1 in the preceding year1 ,master ,marco ,erizzo1 ,nicolo ,soranzo1 and ,thomas ,gradenigo1 were chosen to examine where a new saloon might be built in order to assemble therein the ,greater ,council4444 ,on the #crd of ,june1 #acda1 the ,great ,council elected two procurators of the work of this saloon1 with a salary of eighty ducats a year4 ,it appears from the entry still preserved in the ,archivio1 and quoted by ,cadorin1 that it was on the #bhth of ,december1 #acdj1 that the commissioners appointed to decide on this important matter gave in their report to the ,grand ,council1 and that the decree passed thereupon for the commencement of a new ,council ,chamber on the ,grand ,canal4#aba ,the room then begun is the one now in existence1 and its building involved the building of all that is best and most beautiful in the present ,ducal ,palace1 the rich arcades of the lower stories being all prepared for sustaining this ,sala del ,gran ,consiglio4 ,,xix4 ,in saying that it is the same now in existence1 ,i do not mean that it has undergone no alterations2 as we shall see hereafter1 it has been refitted again and again1 and some portions of its walls rebuilt2 but in the place and form in which it first stood1 it still stands2 and by a glance at the position which its windows occupy1 as shown in fig4 ,,xxxvii4 above1 the reader will see at once that whatever can be known respecting the design of the ,sea ,faade1 must be gleaned out of the entries which refer to the building of this ,great ,council ,chamber4 ,cadorin quotes two of great importance1 to which we shall return in due time1 made during the progress of the work in #acdb and #acdd2 then one of #acdi1 resolving that the works at the ,ducal ,palace1 which had been discontinued during the plague1 should be resumed2 and finally one in #acfb1 which speaks of the ,great ,council ,chamber as having been neglected and suffered to fall into great desolation1 and resolves that it shall be forthwith completed4#abb ,the interruption had not been caused by the plague only1 but by the conspiracy of ,faliero1 and the violent death of the master builder4#abc ,the work was resumed in #acfb1 and completed within the next three years1 at least so far as that ,guariento was enabled to paint his ,paradise on the walls2#abd so that the building must1 at any rate1 have been roofed by this time4 ,its decorations and fittings1 however1 were long in completion2 the paintings on the roof being only executed in #adjj4abe ,they represented the heavens covered with stars1#abf this being1 says ,sansovino1 the bearings of the ,doge ,steno4 ,almost all ceilings and vaults were at this time in ,venice covered with stars1 without any reference to armorial bearings2 but ,steno claims1 under his noble title of ,stellifer1 an important share in completing the chamber1 in an inscription upon two square tablets1 now inlaid in the walls on each side of the great window towards the sea3 ,,mille ,,quadringenti ,,currebant ,,quatuor ,,anni ,,hoc ,,opus ,,illustris ,,michael ,,dux ,,stellifer ,,auxit4 ,and in fact it is to this ,doge that we owe the beautiful balcony of that window1 though the work above it is partly of more recent date2 and ,i think the tablets bearing this important inscription have been taken out and reinserted in the newer masonry4 ,the labor of these final decorations occupied a total period of sixty years4 ,the ,grand ,council sat in the finished chamber for the first time in #adbc4 ,in that year the ,gothic ,ducal ,palace of ,venice was completed4 ,it had taken1 to build it1 the energies of the entire period which ,i have above described as the central one of her life4 ,,xx4 #crd4 ,the ,,renaissance ,,palace4 ,i must go back a step or two1 in order to be certain that the reader understands clearly the state of the palace in #adbc4 ,the works of addition or renovation had now been proceeding1 at intervals1 during a space of a hundred and twenty-three years4 ,three generations at least had been accustomed to witness the gradual advancement of the form of the ,ducal ,palace into more stately symmetry1 and to contrast the works of sculpture and painting with which it was decorated1--full of the life1 knowledge1 and hope of the fourteenth century1--with the rude ,byzantine chiselling of the palace of the ,doge ,ziani4 ,the magnificent fabric just completed1 of which the new ,council ,chamber was the nucleus1 was now habitually known in ,venice as the ,palazzo ,nuovo2 and the old ,byzantine edifice1 now ruinous1 and more manifest in its decay by its contrast with the goodly stones of the building which had been raised at its side1 was of course known as the ,palazzo ,vecchio4#abg ,that fabric1 however1 still occupied the principal position in ,venice4 ,the new ,council ,chamber had been erected by the side of it towards the ,sea2 but there was not then the wide quay in front1 the ,riva dei ,schiavoni1 which now renders the ,sea ,faade as important as that to the ,piazzetta4 ,there was only a narrow walk between the pillars and the water2 and the old palace of ,ziani still faced the ,piazzetta1 and interrupted1 by its decrepitude1 the magnificence of the square where the nobles daily met4 ,every increase of the beauty of the new palace rendered the discrepancy between it and the companion building more painful2 and then began to arise in the minds of all men a vague idea of the necessity of destroying the old palace1 and completing the front of the ,piazzetta with the same splendor as the ,sea ,faade4 ,but no such sweeping measure of renovation had been contemplated by the ,senate when they first formed the plan of their new ,council ,chamber4 ,first a single additional room1 then a gateway1 then a larger room2 but all considered merely as necessary additions to the palace1 not as involving the entire reconstruction of the ancient edifice4 ,the exhaustion of the treasury1 and the shadows upon the political horizon1 rendered it more than imprudent to incur the vast additional expense which such a project involved2 and the ,senate1 fearful of itself1 and desirous to guard against the weakness of its own enthusiasm1 passed a decree1 like the effort of a man fearful of some strong temptation to keep his thoughts averted from the point of danger4 ,it was a decree1 not merely that the old palace should not be rebuilt1 but that no one should propose rebuilding it4 ,the feeling of the desirableness of doing so was too strong to permit fair discussion1 and the ,senate knew that to bring forward such a motion was to carry it4 ,,xxi4 ,the decree1 thus passed in order to guard against their own weakness1 forbade any one to speak of rebuilding the old palace under the penalty of a thousand ducats4 ,but they had rated their own enthusiasm too low3 there was a man among them whom the loss of a thousand ducats could not deter from proposing what he believed to be for the good of the state4 ,some excuse was given him for bringing forward the motion1 by a fire which occurred in #adai1 and which injured both the church of ,st4 ,mark's1 and part of the old palace fronting the ,piazzetta4 ,what followed1 ,i shall relate in the words of ,sanuto4#abh ,,xxii4 ,therefore they set themselves with all diligence and care to repair and adorn sumptuously1 first ,god's house2 but in the ,prince's house things went on more slowly1 for it did not please the ,doge#abi to restore it in the form in which it was before2 and they could not rebuild it altogether in a better manner1 so great was the parsimony of these old fathers2 because it was forbidden by laws1 which condemned in a penalty of a thousand ducats any one who should propose to throw down the old palace1 and to rebuild it more richly and with greater expense4 ,but the ,doge1 who was magnanimous1 and who desired above all things what was honorable to the city1 had the thousand ducats carried into the ,senate ,chamber1 and then proposed that the palace should be rebuilt2 saying3 that1 'since the late fire had ruined in great part the ,ducal habitation 7not only his own private palace1 but all the places used for public business7 this occasion was to be taken for an admonishment sent from ,god1 that they ought to rebuild the palace more nobly1 and in a way more befitting the greatness to which1 by ,god's grace1 their dominions had reached2 and that his motive in proposing this was neither ambition1 nor selfish interest3 that1 as for ambition1 they might have seen in the whole course of his life1 through so many years1 that he had never done anything for ambition1 either in the city1 or in foreign business2 but in all his actions had kept justice first in his thoughts1 and then the advantage of the state1 and the honor of the ,venetian name3 and that1 as far as regarded his private interest1 if it had not been for this accident of the fire1 he would never have thought of changing anything in the palace into either a more sumptuous or a more honorable form2 and that during the many years in which he had lived in it1 he had never endeavored to make any change1 but had always been content with it1 as his predecessors had left it2 and that he knew well that1 if they took in hand to build it as he exhorted and besought them1 being now very old1 and broken down with many toils1 ,god would call him to another life before the walls were raised a pace from the ground4 ,and that therefore they might perceive that he did not advise them to raise this building for his own convenience1 but only for the honor of the city and its ,dukedom2 and that the good of it would never be felt by him1 but by his successors4' ,then he said1 that 'in order1 as he had always done1 to observe the laws1444 he had brought with him the thousand ducats which had been appointed as the penalty for proposing such a measure1 so that he might prove openly to all men that it was not his own advantage that he sought1 but the dignity of the state4' ,there was no one 7,sanuto goes on to tell us7 who ventured1 or desired1 to oppose the wishes of the ,doge2 and the thousand ducats were unanimously devoted to the expenses of the work4 ,and they set themselves with much diligence to the work2 and the palace was begun in the form and manner in which it is at present seen2 but1 as ,mocenigo had prophesied1 not long after1 he ended his life1 and not only did not see the work brought to a close1 but hardly even begun4 ,,xxiii4 ,there are one or two expressions in the above extracts which1 if they stood alone1 might lead the reader to suppose that the whole palace had been thrown down and rebuilt4 ,we must however remember1 that1 at this time1 the new ,council ,chamber1 which had been one hundred years in building1 was actually unfinished1 the council had not yet sat in it2 and it was just as likely that the ,doge should then propose to destroy and rebuild it1 as in this year1 #ahec1 it is that any one should propose in our ,house of ,commons to throw down the new ,houses of ,parliament1 under the title of the old palace1 and rebuild them4 ,,xxiv4 ,the manner in which ,sanuto expresses himself will at once be seen to be perfectly natural1 when it is remembered that although we now speak of the whole building as the ,ducal ,palace1 it consisted1 in the minds of the old ,venetians1 of four distinct buildings4 ,there were in it the palace1 the state prisons1 the senate-house1 and the offices of public business2 in other words1 it was ,buckingham ,palace1 the ,tower of olden days1 the ,houses of ,parliament1 and ,downing ,street1 all in one2 and any of these four portions might be spoken of1 without involving an allusion to any other4 ,il ,palazzo was the ,ducal residence1 which1 with most of the public offices1 ,mocenigo did propose to pull down and rebuild1 and which was actually pulled down and rebuilt4 ,but the new ,council ,chamber1 of which the whole faade to the ,sea consisted1 never entered into either his or ,sanuto's mind for an instant1 as necessarily connected with the ,ducal residence4 ,i said that the new ,council ,chamber1 at the time when ,mocenigo brought forward his measure1 had never yet been used4 ,it was in the year #adbbacj that the decree passed to rebuild the palace3 ,mocenigo died in the following year1#aca and ,francesco ,foscari was elected in his room4 ,the ,great ,council ,chamber was used for the first time on the day when ,foscari entered the ,senate as ,doge1--the #crd of ,april1 #adbc1 according to the ,caroldo ,chronicle2#acb the #bcrd1 which is probably correct1 by an anonymous ,,ms41 ,no4 #fj1 in the ,correr ,museum2#acc--;and1 the following year1 on the #bgth of ,march1 the first hammer was lifted up against the old palace of ,ziani4#acd ,,xxv4 ,that hammer stroke was the first act of the period properly called the ,renaissance4 ,it was the knell of the architecture of ,venice1--and of ,venice herself4 ,the central epoch of her life was past2 the decay had already begun3 ,i dated its commencement above 7,ch4 ,i4 ,vol4 #a47 from the death of ,mocenigo4 ,a year had not yet elapsed since that great ,doge had been called to his account3 his patriotism1 always sincere1 had been in this instance mistaken2 in his zeal for the honor of future ,venice1 he had forgotten what was due to the ,venice of long ago4 ,a thousand palaces might be built upon her burdened islands1 but none of them could take the place1 or recall the memory1 of that which was first built upon her unfrequented shore4 ,it fell2 and1 as if it had been the talisman of her fortunes1 the city never flourished again4 ,,xxvi4 ,i have no intention of following out1 in their intricate details1 the operations which were begun under ,foscari and continued under succeeding ,doges till the palace assumed its present form1 for ,i am not in this work concerned1 except by occasional reference1 with the architecture of the fifteenth century3 but the main facts are the following4 ,the palace of ,ziani was destroyed2 the existing faade to the ,piazzetta built1 so as both to continue and to resemble1 in most particulars1 the work of the ,great ,council ,chamber4 ,it was carried back from the ,sea as far as the ,judgment angle2 beyond which is the ,porta della ,carta1 begun in #adci1 and finished in two years1 under the ,doge ,foscari2#ace the interior buildings connected with it were added by the ,doge ,christopher ,moro 7the ,othello of ,shakspeare7#acf in #adfb4 ,,xxvii4 ,by reference to the figure the reader will see that we have now gone the round of the palace1 and that the new work of #adfb was close upon the first piece of the ,gothic palace1 the new ,council ,chamber of #acja4 ,some remnants of the ,ziani ,palace were perhaps still left between the two extremities of the ,gothic ,palace2 or1 as is more probable1 the last stones of it may have been swept away after the fire of #adai1 and replaced by new apartments for the ,doge4 ,but whatever buildings1 old or new1 stood on this spot at the time of the completion of the ,porta della ,carta were destroyed by another great fire in #adgi1 together with so much of the palace on the ,rio that1 though the saloon of ,gradenigo1 then known as the ,sala de' ,pregadi1 was not destroyed1 it became necessary to reconstruct the entire faades of the portion of the palace behind the ,bridge of ,sighs1 both towards the court and canal4 ,this work was entrusted to the best ,renaissance architects of the close of the fifteenth and opening of the sixteenth centuries2 ,antonio ,ricci executing the ,giant's staircase1 and on his absconding with a large sum of the public money1 ,pietro ,lombardo taking his place4 ,the whole work must have been completed towards the middle of the sixteenth century4 ,the architects of the palace1 advancing round the square and led by fire1 had more than reached the point from which they had set out2 and the work of #aefj was joined to the work of #acja-acdj1 at the point marked by the conspicuous vertical line in ,figure ,,xxxvii4 on the ,rio ,faade4 ,,xxviii4 ,but the palace was not long permitted to remain in this finished form4 ,another terrific fire1 commonly called the great fire1 burst out in #aegd1 and destroyed the inner fittings and all the precious pictures of the ,great ,council ,chamber1 and of all the upper rooms on the ,sea ,faade1 and most of those on the ,rio ,faade1 leaving the building a mere shell1 shaken and blasted by the flames4 ,it was debated in the ,great ,council whether the ruin should not be thrown down1 and an entirely new palace built in its stead4 ,the opinions of all the leading architects of ,venice were taken1 respecting the safety of the walls1 or the possibility of repairing them as they stood4 ,these opinions1 given in writing1 have been preserved1 and published by the ,abb ,cadorin1 in the work already so often referred to2 and they form one of the most important series of documents connected with the ,ducal ,palace4 ,i cannot help feeling some childish pleasure in the accidental resemblance to my own name in that of the architect whose opinion was first given in favor of the ancient fabric1 ,giovanni ,rusconi4 ,others1 especially ,palladio1 wanted to pull down the old palace1 and execute designs of their own2 but the best architects in ,venice1 and to his immortal honor1 chiefly ,francesco ,sansovino1 energetically pleaded for the ,gothic pile1 and prevailed4 ,it was successfully repaired1 and ,tintoret painted his noblest picture on the wall from which the ,paradise of ,guariento had withered before the flames4 ,,xxix4 ,the repairs necessarily undertaken at this time were however extensive1 and interfere in many directions with the earlier work of the palace3 still the only serious alteration in its form was the transposition of the prisons1 formerly at the top of the palace1 to the other side of the ,rio del ,palazzo2 and the building of the ,bridge of ,sighs1 to connect them with the palace1 by ,antonio da ,ponte4 ,the completion of this work brought the whole edifice into its present form2 with the exception of alterations in doors1 partitions1 and staircases among the inner apartments1 not worth noticing1 and such barbarisms and defacements as have been suffered within the last fifty years1 by1 ,i suppose1 nearly every building of importance in ,italy4 ,,xxx4 ,now1 therefore1 we are liberty to examine some of the details of the ,ducal ,palace1 without any doubt about their dates4 ,i shall not1 however1 give any elaborate illustrations of them here1 because ,i could not do them justice on the scale of the page of this volume1 or by means of line engraving4 ,i believe a new era is opening to us in the art of illustration1#acg and that ,i shall be able to give large figures of the details of the ,ducal ,palace at a price which will enable every person who is interested in the subject to possess them2 so that the cost and labor of multiplying illustrations here would be altogether wasted4 ,i shall therefore direct the reader's attention only to points of interest as can be explained in the text4 ,,xxxi4 ,first1 then1 looking back to the woodcut at the beginning of this chapter1 the reader will observe that1 as the building was very nearly square on the ground plan1 a peculiar prominence and importance were given to its angles1 which rendered it necessary that they should be enriched and softened by sculpture4 ,i do not suppose that the fitness of this arrangement will be questioned2 but if the reader will take the pains to glance over any series of engravings of church towers or other four-square buildings in which great refinement of form has been attained1 he will at once observe how their effect depends on some modification of the sharpness of the angle1 either by groups of buttresses1 or by turrets and niches rich in sculpture4 ,it is to be noted also that this principle of breaking the angle is peculiarly ,gothic1 arising partly out of the necessity of strengthening the flanks of enormous buildings1 where composed of imperfect materials1 by buttresses or pinnacles2 partly out of the conditions of ,gothic warfare1 which generally required a tower at the angle2 partly out of the natural dislike of the meagreness of effect in buildings which admitted large surfaces of wall1 if the angle were entirely unrelieved4 ,the ,ducal ,palace1 in its acknowledgment of this principle1 makes a more definite concession to the ,gothic spirit than any of the previous architecture of ,venice4 ,no angle1 up to the time of its erection1 had been otherwise decorated than by a narrow fluted pilaster of red marble1 and the sculpture was reserved always1 as in ,greek and ,roman work1 for the plane surfaces of the building1 with1 as far as ,i recollect1 two exceptions only1 both in ,st4 ,mark's2 namely1 the bold and grotesque gargoyle on its north-west angle1 and the angels which project from the four inner angles under the main cupola2 both of these arrangements being plainly made under ,lombardic influence4 ,and if any other instances occur1 which ,i may have at present forgotten1 ,i am very sure the ,northern influence will always be distinctly traceable in them4 ,,xxxii4 ,the ,ducal ,palace1 however1 accepts the principle in its completeness1 and throws the main decoration upon its angles4 ,the central window1 which looks rich and important in the woodcut1 was entirely restored in the ,renaissance time1 as we have seen1 under the ,doge ,steno2 so that we have no traces of its early treatment2 and the principal interest of the older palace is concentrated in the angle sculpture1 which is arranged in the following manner4 ,the pillars of the two bearing arcades are much enlarged in thickness at the angles1 and their capitals increased in depth1 breadth1 and fulness of subject2 above each capital1 on the angle of the wall1 a sculptural subject is introduced1 consisting1 in the great lower arcade1 of two or more figures of the size of life2 in the upper arcade1 of a single angel holding a scroll3 above these angels rise the twisted pillars with their crowning niches1 already noticed in the account of parapets in the seventh chapter2 thus forming an unbroken line of decoration from the ground to the top of the angle4 ,,xxxiii4 ,it was before noticed that one of the corners of the palace joins the irregular outer buildings connected with ,st4 ,mark's1 and is not generally seen4 ,there remain1 therefore1 to be decorated1 only the three angles1 above distinguished as the ,vine angle1 the ,fig-tree angle1 and the ,judgment angle2 and at these we have1 according to the arrangement just explained1-- ,first1 ,three great bearing capitals 7lower arcade74 ,secondly1 ,three figure subjects of sculpture above them 7lower arcade74 ,thirdly1 ,three smaller bearing capitals 7upper arcade74 ,fourthly1 ,three angels above them 7upper arcade74 ,fifthly1 ,three spiral shafts with niches4 ,,xxxiv4 ,i shall describe the bearing capitals hereafter1 in their order1 with the others of the arcade2 for the first point to which the reader's attention ought to be directed is the choice of subject in the great figure sculptures above them4 ,these1 observe1 are the very corner stones of the edifice1 and in them we may expect to find the most important evidences of the feeling1 as well as of the skill1 of the builder4 ,if he has anything to say to us of the purpose with which he built the palace1 it is sure to be said here2 if there was any lesson which he wished principally to teach to those for whom he built1 here it is sure to be inculcated2 if there was any sentiment which they themselves desired to have expressed in the principal edifice of their city1 this is the place in which we may be secure of finding it legibly inscribed4 ,,xxxv4 ,now the first two angles1 of the ,vine and ,fig-tree1 belong to the old1 or true ,gothic1 ,palace2 the third angle belongs to the ,renaissance imitation of it3 therefore1 at the first two angles1 it is the ,gothic spirit which is going to speak to us2 and1 at the third1 the ,renaissance spirit4 ,the reader remembers1 ,i trust1 that the most characteristic sentiment of all that we traced in the working of the ,gothic heart1 was the frank confession of its own weakness2 and ,i must anticipate1 for a moment1 the results of our inquiry in subsequent chapters1 so far as to state that the principal element in the ,renaissance spirit1 is its firm confidence in its own wisdom4 ,hear1 then1 the two spirits speak for themselves4 ,the first main sculpture of the ,gothic ,palace is on what ,i have called the angle of the ,fig-tree3 ,its subject is the ,,fall ,,of ,,man4 ,the second sculpture is on the angle of the ,vine3 ,its subject is the ,,drunkenness ,,of ,,noah4 ,the ,renaissance sculpture is on the ,judgment angle3 ,its subject is the ,,judgment ,,of ,,solomon4 ,it is impossible to overstate1 or to regard with too much admiration1 the significance of this single fact4 ,it is as if the palace had been built at various epochs1 and preserved uninjured to this day1 for the sole purpose of teaching us the difference in the temper of the two schools4 ,,xxxvi4 ,i have called the sculpture on the ,fig-tree angle the principal one2 because it is at the central bend of the palace1 where it turns to the ,piazzetta 7the faade upon the ,piazzetta being1 as we saw above1 the more important one in ancient times74 ,the great capital1 which sustains this ,fig-tree angle1 is also by far more elaborate than the head of the pilaster under the ,vine angle1 marking the preminence of the former in the architect's mind4 ,it is impossible to say which was first executed1 but that of the ,fig-tree angle is somewhat rougher in execution1 and more stiff in the design of the figures1 so that ,i rather suppose it to have been the earliest completed4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xix4 ,,leafage ,,of ,,the ,,vine ,,angle4 ,,xxxvii4 ,in both the subjects1 of the ,fall and the ,drunkenness1 the tree1 which forms the chiefly decorative portion of the sculpture1--fig in the one case1 vine in the other1--was a necessary adjunct4 ,its trunk1 in both sculptures1 forms the true outer angle of the palace2 boldly cut separate from the stone-work behind1 and branching out above the figures so as to enwrap each side of the angle1 for several feet1 with its deep foliage4 ,nothing can be more masterly or superb than the sweep of this foliage on the ,fig-tree angle2 the broad leaves lapping round the budding fruit1 and sheltering from sight1 beneath their shadows1 birds of the most graceful form and delicate plumage4 ,the branches are1 however1 so strong1 and the masses of stone hewn into leafage so large1 that1 notwithstanding the depth of the undercutting1 the work remains nearly uninjured2 not so at the ,vine angle1 where the natural delicacy of the vine-leaf and tendril having tempted the sculptor to greater effort1 he has passed the proper limits of his art1 and cut the upper stems so delicately that half of them have been broken away by the casualties to which the situation of the sculpture necessarily exposes it4 ,what remains is1 however1 so interesting in its extreme refinement1 that ,i have chosen it for the subject of the opposite illustration rather than the nobler masses of the fig-tree1 which ought to be rendered on a larger scale4 ,although half of the beauty of the composition is destroyed by the breaking away of its central masses1 there is still enough in the distribution of the variously bending leaves1 and in the placing of the birds on the lighter branches1 to prove to us the power of the designer4 ,i have already referred to this ,plate as a remarkable instance of the ,gothic ,naturalism2 and1 indeed1 it is almost impossible for the copying of nature to be carried farther than in the fibres of the marble branches1 and the careful finishing of the tendrils3 note especially the peculiar expression of the knotty joints of the vine in the light branch which rises highest4 ,yet only half the finish of the work can be seen in the ,plate3 for1 in several cases1 the sculptor has shown the under sides of the leaves turned boldly to the light1 and has literally carved every rib and vein upon them1 in relief2 not merely the main ribs which sustain the lobes of the leaf1 and actually project in nature1 but the irregular and sinuous veins which chequer the membranous tissues between them1 and which the sculptor has represented conventionally as relieved like the others1 in order to give the vine leaf its peculiar tessellated effect upon the eye4 ,,xxxviii4 ,as must always be the case in early sculpture1 the figures are much inferior to the leafage2 yet so skilful in many respects1 that it was a long time before ,i could persuade myself that they had indeed been wrought in the first half of the fourteenth century4 ,fortunately1 the date is inscribed upon a monument in the ,church of ,san ,simeon ,grande1 bearing a recumbent statue of the saint1 of far finer workmanship1 in every respect1 than those figures of the ,ducal ,palace1 yet so like them1 that ,i think there can be no question that the head of ,noah was wrought by the sculptor of the palace in emulation of that of the statue of ,st4 ,simeon4 ,in this latter sculpture1 the face is represented in death2 the mouth partly open1 the lips thin and sharp1 the teeth carefully sculptured beneath2 the face full of quietness and majesty1 though very ghastly2 the hair and beard flowing in luxuriant wreaths1 disposed with the most masterly freedom1 yet severity1 of design1 far down upon the shoulders2 the hands crossed upon the body1 carefully studied1 and the veins and sinews perfectly and easily expressed1 yet without any attempt at extreme finish or display of technical skill4 ,this monument bears date #acag1ach and its sculptor was justly proud of it2 thus recording his name3 ,,celavit ,,marcus ,,opus ,,hoc ,,insigne ,,romanis1 ,,laudibus ,,non ,,parcus ,,est ,,sua ,,digna ,,manus4 ,,xxxix4 ,the head of the ,noah on the ,ducal ,palace1 evidently worked in emulation of this statue1 has the same profusion of flowing hair and beard1 but wrought in smaller and harder curls2 and the veins on the arms and breast are more sharply drawn1 the sculptor being evidently more practised in keen and fine lines of vegetation than in those of the figure2 so that1 which is most remarkable in a workman of this early period1 he has failed in telling his story plainly1 regret and wonder being so equally marked on the features of all the three brothers that it is impossible to say which is intended for ,ham4 ,two of the heads of the brothers are seen in the ,plate2 the third figure is not with the rest of the group1 but set at a distance of about twelve feet1 on the other side of the arch which springs from the angle capital4 ,,xl4 ,it may be observed1 as a farther evidence of the date of the group1 that1 in the figures of all the three youths1 the feet are protected simply by a bandage arranged in crossed folds round the ankle and lower part of the limb2 a feature of dress which will be found in nearly every piece of figure sculpture in ,venice1 from the year #acjj to #achj1 and of which the traveller may see an example within three hundred yards of this very group1 in the bas-reliefs on the tomb of the ,doge ,andrea ,dandolo 7in ,st4 ,mark's71 who died in #aced4 ,,xli4 ,the figures of ,adam and ,eve1 sculptured on each side of the ,fig-tree angle1 are more stiff than those of ,noah and his sons1 but are better fitted for their architectural service2 and the trunk of the tree1 with the angular body of the serpent writhed around it1 is more nobly treated as a terminal group of lines than that of the vine4 ,the ,renaissance sculptor of the figures of the ,judgment of ,solomon has very nearly copied the fig-tree from this angle1 placing its trunk between the executioner and the mother1 who leans forward to stay his hand4 ,but1 though the whole group is much more free in design than those of the earlier palace1 and in many ways excellent in itself1 so that it always strikes the eye of a careless observer more than the others1 it is of immeasurably inferior spirit in the workmanship2 the leaves of the tree1 though far more studiously varied in flow than those of the fig-tree from which they are partially copied1 have none of its truth to nature2 they are ill set on the stems1 bluntly defined on the edges1 and their curves are not those of growing leaves1 but of wrinkled drapery4 ,,xlii4 ,above these three sculptures are set1 in the upper arcade1 the statues of the archangels ,raphael1 ,michael1 and ,gabriel3 their positions will be understood by reference to the lowest figure in ,plate ,,xvii41 where that of ,raphael above the ,vine angle is seen on the right4 ,a diminutive figure of ,tobit follows at his feet1 and he bears in his hand a scroll with this inscription3 ,,efice ,q ,,sofre ,,tur ,,afa ,,el ,,reve ,,rende ,,quietu i4e4 ,effice 7quso87 fretum1 ,raphael reverende1 quietum4#aci ,i could not decipher the inscription on the scroll borne by the angel ,michael2 and the figure of ,gabriel1 which is by much the most beautiful feature of the ,renaissance portion of the palace1 has only in its hand the ,annunciation lily4 ,,xliii4 ,such are the subjects of the main sculptures decorating the angles of the palace2 notable1 observe1 for their simple expression of two feelings1 the consciousness of human frailty1 and the dependence upon ,divine guidance and protection3 this being1 of course1 the general purpose of the introduction of the figures of the angels2 and1 ,i imagine1 intended to be more particularly conveyed by the manner in which the small figure of ,tobit follows the steps of ,raphael1 just touching the hem of his garment4 ,we have next to examine the course of divinity and of natural history embodied by the old sculpture in the great series of capitals which support the lower arcade of the palace2 and which1 being at a height of little more than eight feet above the eye1 might be read1 like the pages of a book1 by those 7the noblest men in ,venice7 who habitually walked beneath the shadow of this great arcade at the time of their first meeting each other for morning converse4 ,,xliv4 ,the principal sculptures of the capitals consist of personifications of the ,virtues and ,vices1 the favorite subjects of decorative art1 at this period1 in all the cities of ,italy2 and there is so much that is significant in the various modes of their distinction and general representation1 more especially with reference to their occurrence as expressions of praise to the dead in sepulchral architecture1 hereafter to be examined1 that ,i believe the reader may both happily and profitably rest for a little while beneath the first vault of the arcade1 to review the manner in which these symbols of the virtues were first invented by the ,christian imagination1 and the evidence they generally furnish of the state of religious feeling in those by whom they were recognised4 ,,xlv4 ,in the early ages of ,christianity1 there was little care taken to analyze character4 ,one momentous question was heard over the whole world1--,dost thou believe in the ,lord with all thine heart8 ,there was but one division among men1--the great unatoneable division between the disciple and adversary4 ,the love of ,christ was all1 and in all2 and in proportion to the nearness of their memory of ,his person and teaching1 men understood the infinity of the requirements of the moral law1 and the manner in which it alone could be fulfilled4 ,the early ,christians felt that virtue1 like sin1 was a subtle universal thing1 entering into every act and thought1 appearing outwardly in ten thousand diverse ways1 diverse according to the separate framework of every heart in which it dwelt2 but one and the same always in its proceeding from the love of ,god1 as sin is one and the same in proceeding from hatred of ,god4 ,and in their pure1 early1 and practical piety1 they saw there was no need for codes of morality1 or systems of metaphysics4 ,their virtue comprehended everything1 entered into everything2 it was too vast and too spiritual to be defined2 but there was no need of its definition4 ,for through faith1 working by love1 they knew that all human excellence would be developed in due order2 but that1 without faith1 neither reason could define1 nor effort reach1 the lowest phase of ,christian virtue4 ,and therefore1 when any of the ,apostles have occasion to describe or enumerate any forms of vice or virtue by name1 there is no attempt at system in their words4 ,they use them hurriedly and energetically1 heaping the thoughts one upon another1 in order as far as possible to fill the reader's mind with a sense of the infinity both of crime and of righteousness4 ,hear ,st4 ,paul describe sin3 ,being filled with all unrighteousness1 fornication1 wickedness1 covetousness1 maliciousness2 full of envy1 murder1 debate1 deceit1 malignity2 whisperers1 backbiters1 haters of ,god1 despiteful1 proud1 boasters1 inventors of evil things1 disobedient to parents1 without understanding1 covenant breakers1 without natural affection1 implacable1 unmerciful4 ,there is evidently here an intense feeling of the universality of sin2 and in order to express it1 the ,apostle hurries his words confusedly together1 little caring about their order1 as knowing all the vices to be indissolubly connected one with another4 ,it would be utterly vain to endeavor to arrange his expressions as if they had been intended for the ground of any system1 or to give any philosophical definition of the vices4#adj ,so also hear him speaking of virtue3 ,rejoice in the ,lord4 ,let your moderation be known unto all men4 ,be careful for nothing1 but in everything let your requests be made known unto ,god2 and whatsoever things are honest1 whatsoever things are just1 whatsoever things are pure1 whatsoever things are lovely1 whatsoever things are of good report1 if there be any virtue1 and if there be any praise1 think on these things4 ,observe1 he gives up all attempt at definition2 he leaves the definition to every man's heart1 though he writes so as to mark the overflowing fulness of his own vision of virtue4 ,and so it is in all writings of the ,apostles2 their manner of exhortation1 and the kind of conduct they press1 vary according to the persons they address1 and the feeling of the moment at which they write1 and never show any attempt at logical precision4 ,and1 although the words of their ,master are not thus irregularly uttered1 but are weighed like fine gold1 yet1 even in ,his teaching1 there is no detailed or organized system of morality2 but the command only of that faith and love which were to embrace the whole being of man3 ,on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets4 ,here and there an incidental warning against this or that more dangerous form of vice or error1 ,take heed and beware of covetousness1 ,beware of the leaven of the ,pharisees2 here and there a plain example of the meaning of ,christian love1 as in the parables of the ,samaritan and the ,prodigal1 and ,his own perpetual example3 these were the elements of ,christ's constant teaching2 for the ,beatitudes1 which are the only approximation to anything like a systematic statement1 belong to different conditions and characters of individual men1 not to abstract virtues4 ,and all early ,christians taught in the same manner4 ,they never cared to expound the nature of this or that virtue2 for they knew that the believer who had ,christ1 had all4 ,did he need fortitude8 ,christ was his rock3 ,equity8 ,christ was his righteousness3 ,holiness8 ,christ was his sanctification3 ,liberty8 ,christ was his redemption3 ,temperance8 ,christ was his ruler3 ,wisdom8 ,christ was his light3 ,truthfulness8 ,christ was the truth3 ,charity8 ,christ was love4 ,,xlvi4 ,now1 exactly in proportion as the ,christian religion became less vital1 and as the various corruptions which time and ,satan brought into it were able to manifest themselves1 the person and offices of ,christ were less dwelt upon1 and the virtues of ,christians more4 ,the ,life of the ,believer became in some degree separated from the ,life of ,christ2 and his virtue1 instead of being a stream flowing forth from the throne of ,god1 and descending upon the earth1 began to be regarded by him as a pyramid upon earth1 which he had to build up1 step by step1 that from the top of it he might reach the ,heavens4 ,it was not possible to measure the waves of the water of life1 but it was perfectly possible to measure the bricks of the ,tower of ,babel2 and gradually1 as the thoughts of men were withdrawn from their ,redeemer1 and fixed upon themselves1 the virtues began to be squared1 and counted1 and classified1 and put into separate heaps of firsts and seconds2 some things being virtuous cardinally1 and other things virtuous only north-north-west4 ,it is very curious to put in close juxtaposition the words of the ,apostles and of some of the writers of the fifteenth century touching sanctification4 ,for instance1 hear first ,st4 ,paul to the ,thessalonians3 ,the very ,god of peace sanctify you wholly2 and ,i pray ,god your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our ,lord ,jesus ,christ4 ,faithful is he that calleth you1 who also will do it4 ,and then the following part of a prayer which ,i translate from a ,,ms4 of the fifteenth century3 ,may ,he 7the ,holy ,spirit7 govern the five ,senses of my body2 may ,he cause me to embrace the ,seven ,works of ,mercy1 and firmly to believe and observe the ,twelve ,articles of the ,faith and the ,ten ,commandments of the ,law1 and defend me from the ,seven ,mortal ,sins1 even to the end4 ,,xlvii4 ,i do not mean that this quaint passage is generally characteristic of the devotion of the fifteenth century3 the very prayer out of which it is taken is in other parts exceedingly beautiful3#ada but the passage is strikingly illustrative of the tendency of the later ,romish ,church1 more especially in its most corrupt condition1 just before the ,reformation1 to throw all religion into forms and ciphers2 which tendency1 as it affected ,christian ethics1 was confirmed by the ,renaissance enthusiasm for the works of ,aristotle and ,cicero1 from whom the code of the fifteenth century virtues was borrowed1 and whose authority was then infinitely more revered by all the ,doctors of the ,church than that either of ,st4 ,paul or ,st4 ,peter4 ,,xlviii4 ,although1 however1 this change in the tone of the ,christian mind was most distinctly manifested when the revival of literature rendered the works of the heathen philosophers the leading study of all the greatest scholars of the period1 it had been1 as ,i said before1 taking place gradually from the earliest ages4 ,it is1 as far as ,i know1 that root of the ,renaissance poison-tree1 which1 of all others1 is deepest struck2 showing itself in various measures through the writings of all the ,fathers1 of course exactly in proportion to the respect which they paid to classical authors1 especially to ,plato1 ,aristotle1 and ,cicero4 ,the mode in which the pestilent study of that literature affected them may be well illustrated by the examination of a single passage from the works of one of the best of them1 ,st4 ,ambrose1 and of the mode in which that passage was then amplified and formulized by later writers4 ,,xlix4 ,plato1 indeed1 studied alone1 would have done no one any harm4 ,he is profoundly spiritual and capacious in all his views1 and embraces the small systems of ,aristotle and ,cicero1 as the solar system does the ,earth4 ,he seems to me especially remarkable for the sense of the great ,christian virtue of ,holiness1 or sanctification2 and for the sense of the presence of the ,deity in all things1 great or small1 which always runs in a solemn undercurrent beneath his exquisite playfulness and irony2 while all the merely moral virtues may be found in his writings defined in the most noble manner1 as a great painter defines his figures1 without outlines4 ,but the imperfect scholarship of later ages seems to have gone to ,plato1 only to find in him the system of ,cicero2 which indeed was very definitely expressed by him4 ,for it having been quickly felt by all men who strove1 unhelped by ,christian faith1 to enter at the strait gate into the paths of virtue1 that there were four characters of mind which were protective or preservative of all that was best in man1 namely1 ,prudence1 ,justice1 ,courage1 and ,temperance1#adb these were afterwards1 with most illogical inaccuracy1 called cardinal virtues1 ,prudence being evidently no virtue1 but an intellectual gift3 but this inaccuracy arose partly from the ambiguous sense of the ,latin word virtutes1 which sometimes1 in medival language1 signifies virtues1 sometimes powers 7being occasionally used in the ,vulgate for the word hosts1 as in ,psalm ciii4 #ba1 cxlviii4 #b1 c41 while fortitudines and exercitus are used for the same word in other places71 so that ,prudence might properly be styled a power1 though not properly a virtue2 and partly from the confusion of ,prudence with ,heavenly ,wisdom4 ,the real rank of these four virtues1 if so they are to be called1 is however properly expressed by the term cardinal4 ,they are virtues of the compass1 those by which all others are directed and strengthened2 they are not the greatest virtues1 but the restraining or modifying virtues1 thus ,prudence restrains zeal1 ,justice restrains mercy1 ,fortitude and ,temperance guide the entire system of the passions2 and1 thus understood1 these virtues properly assumed their peculiar leading or guiding position in the system of ,christian ethics4 ,but in ,pagan ethics1 they were not only guiding1 but comprehensive4 ,they meant a great deal more on the lips of the ancients1 than they now express to the ,christian mind4 ,cicero's ,justice includes charity1 beneficence1 and benignity1 truth1 and faith in the sense of trustworthiness4 ,his ,fortitude includes courage1 self-command1 the scorn of fortune and of all temporary felicities4 ,his ,temperance includes courtesy and modesty4 ,so also1 in ,plato1 these four virtues constitute the sum of education4 ,i do not remember any more simple or perfect expression of the idea1 than in the account given by ,socrates1 in the ,alcibiades ,i41 of the education of the ,persian kings1 for whom1 in their youth1 there are chosen1 he says1 four tutors from among the ,persian nobles2 namely1 the ,wisest1 the most ,just1 the most ,temperate1 and the most ,brave of them4 ,then each has a distinct duty3 ,the ,wisest teaches the young king the worship of the gods1 and the duties of a king 7something more here1 observe1 than our ',prudence6'72 the most ,just teaches him to speak all truth1 and to act out all truth1 through the whole course of his life2 the most ,temperate teaches him to allow no pleasure to have the mastery of him1 so that he may be truly free1 and indeed a king2 and the most ,brave makes him fearless of all things1 showing him that the moment he fears anything1 he becomes a slave4 ,l4 ,all this is exceedingly beautiful1 so far as it reaches2 but the ,christian divines were grievously led astray by their endeavors to reconcile this system with the nobler law of love4 ,at first1 as in the passage ,i am just going to quote from ,st4 ,ambrose1 they tried to graft the ,christian system on the four branches of the ,pagan one2 but finding that the tree would not grow1 they planted the ,pagan and ,christian branches side by side2 adding1 to the four cardinal virtues1 the three called by the schoolmen theological1 namely1 ,faith1 ,hope1 and ,charity3 the one series considered as attainable by the ,heathen1 but the other by the ,christian only4 ,thus ,virgil to ,sordello3 ,loco e laggi1 non tristo da martiri ,ma di tenebre solo1 ove i lamenti ,non suonan come guai1 ma son sospiri3 99 99 99 99 99 ,quivi sto io1 con quei che le tre sante ,virt non si vestiro1 e senza vizio ,conobbei l' altre1 e seguir1 tutte quante4 4 4 4 4 4 ,there ,i with those abide ,who the ,three ,holy ,virtues put not on1 ,but understood the rest1 and without blame ,followed them all4 ,,cary4 ,,li4 ,this arrangement of the virtues was1 however1 productive of infinite confusion and error3 in the first place1 because ,faith is classed with its own fruits1--the gift of ,god1 which is the root of the virtues1 classed simply as one of them2 in the second1 because the words used by the ancients to express the several virtues had always a different meaning from the same expressions in the ,bible1 sometimes a more extended1 sometimes a more limited one4 ,imagine1 for instance1 the confusion which must have been introduced into the ideas of a student who read ,st4 ,paul and ,aristotle alternately2 considering that the word which the ,greek writer uses for ,justice1 means1 with ,st4 ,paul1 ,righteousness4 ,and lastly1 it is impossible to overrate the mischief produced in former days1 as well as in our own1 by the mere habit of reading ,aristotle1 whose system is so false1 so forced1 and so confused1 that the study of it at our universities is quite enough to occasion the utter want of accurate habits of thought which so often disgraces men otherwise well-educated4 ,in a word1 ,aristotle mistakes the ,prudence or ,temperance which must regulate the operation of the virtues1 for the essence of the virtues themselves2 and1 striving to show that all virtues are means between two opposite vices1 torments his wit to discover and distinguish as many pairs of vices as are necessary to the completion of his system1 not disdaining to employ sophistry where invention fails him4 ,and1 indeed1 the study of classical literature1 in general1 not only fostered in the ,christian writers the unfortunate love of systematizing1 which gradually degenerated into every species of contemptible formulism1 but it accustomed them to work out their systems by the help of any logical quibble1 or verbal subtlety1 which could be made available for their purpose1 and this not with any dishonest intention1 but in a sincere desire to arrange their ideas in systematical groups1 while yet their powers of thought were not accurate enough1 nor their common sense stern enough1 to detect the fallacy1 or disdain the finesse1 by which these arrangements were frequently accomplished4 ,,lii4 ,thus ,st4 ,ambrose1 in his commentary on ,luke vi4 #bj1 is resolved to transform the four ,beatitudes there described into rewards of the four cardinal ,virtues1 and sets himself thus ingeniously to the task3 ',blessed be ye poor4' ,here you have ,temperance4 ',blessed are ye that hunger now4' ,he who hungers1 pities those who are an-hungered2 in pitying1 he gives to them1 and in giving he becomes just 7largiendo fit ,justus74 ',blessed are ye that weep now1 for ye shall laugh4' ,here you have ,prudence1 whose part it is to weep1 so far as present things are concerned1 and to seek things which are eternal4 ',blessed are ye when men shall hate you4' ,here you have ,fortitude4 ,,liii4 ,as a preparation for this profitable exercise of wit1 we have also a reconciliation of the ,beatitudes as stated by ,st4 ,matthew1 with those of ,st4 ,luke1 on the ground that in those eight are these four1 and in these four are those eight2 with sundry remarks on the mystical value of the number eight1 with which ,i need not trouble the reader4 ,with ,st4 ,ambrose1 however1 this puerile systematization is quite subordinate to a very forcible and truthful exposition of the real nature of the ,christian life4 ,but the classification he employs furnishes ground for farther subtleties to future divines2 and in a ,,ms4 of the thirteenth century ,i find some expressions in this commentary on ,st4 ,luke1 and in the treatise on the duties of bishops1 amplified into a treatise on the ,steps of the ,virtues3 by which every one who perseveres may1 by a straight path1 attain to the heavenly country of the ,angels4 7,liber de ,gradibus ,virtutum3 quibus ad patriam angelorum supernam itinere recto ascenditur ab omni perseverante47 ,these ,steps are thirty in number 7one expressly for each day of the month71 and the curious mode of their association renders the list well worth quoting3-- ,,liv4 ,primus gradus est ,fides ,recta4 ,unerring faith4 ,secundus ,spes firma4 ,firm hope4 ,tertius ,caritas perfecta4 ,perfect charity4 #d4 ,patientia vera4 ,true patience4 #e4 ,humilitas sancta4 ,holy humility4 #f4 ,mansuetudo4 ,meekness4 #g4 ,intelligentia4 ,understanding4 #h4 ,compunctio cordis4 ,contrition of heart4 #i4 ,oratio4 ,prayer4 #aj4 ,confessio pura4 ,pure confession4 #aa4 ,penitentia digna4 ,fitting penance4#adc #ab4 ,abstinentia4 ,abstinence 7fasting74 #ac4 ,timor ,dei4 ,fear of ,god4 #ad4 ,virginitas4 ,virginity4 #ae4 ,justicia4 ,justice4 #af4 ,misericordia4 ,mercy4 #ag4 ,elemosina4 ,almsgiving4 #ah4 ,hospitalitas4 ,hospitality4 #ai4 ,honor parentum4 ,honoring of parents4 #bj4 ,silencium4 ,silence4 #ba4 ,consilium bonum4 ,good counsel4 #bb4 ,judicium rectum4 ,right judgment4 #bc4 ,exemplum bonum4 ,good example4 #bd4 ,visitatio infirmorum4 ,visitation of the sick4 #be4 ,frequentatio ,companying with saints4 sanctorum4 #bf4 ,oblatio justa4 ,just oblations4 #bg4 ,decimas ,deo solvere4 ,paying tithes to ,god4 #bh4 ,sapientia4 ,wisdom4 #bi4 ,voluntas bona4 ,goodwill4 #cj4 ,perseverantia4 ,perseverance4 ,,lv4 ,the reader will note that the general idea of ,christian virtue embodied in this list is true1 exalted1 and beautiful2 the points of weakness being the confusion of duties with virtues1 and the vain endeavor to enumerate the various offices of charity as so many separate virtues2 more frequently arranged as seven distinct works of mercy4 ,this general tendency to a morbid accuracy of classification was associated1 in later times1 with another very important element of the ,renaissance mind1 the love of personification2 which appears to have reached its greatest vigor in the course of the sixteenth century1 and is expressed to all future ages1 in a consummate manner1 in the poem of ,spenser4 ,it is to be noted that personification is1 in some sort1 the reverse of symbolism1 and is far less noble4 ,symbolism is the setting forth of a great truth by an imperfect and inferior sign 7as1 for instance1 of the hope of the resurrection by the form of the phoenix72 and it is almost always employed by men in their most serious moods of faith1 rarely in recreation4 ,men who use symbolism forcibly are almost always true believers in what they symbolize4 ,but ,personification is the bestowing of a human or living form upon an abstract idea3 it is1 in most cases1 a mere recreation of the fancy1 and is apt to disturb the belief in the reality of the thing personified4 ,thus symbolism constituted the entire system of the ,mosaic dispensation3 it occurs in every word of ,christ's teaching2 it attaches perpetual mystery to the last and most solemn act of ,his life4 ,but ,i do not recollect a single instance of personification in any of ,his words4 ,and as we watch1 thenceforward1 the history of the ,church1 we shall find the declension of its faith exactly marked by the abandonment of symbolism1#add and the profuse employment of personification1--even to such an extent that the virtues came1 at last1 to be confused with the saints2 and we find in the later ,litanies1 ,st4 ,faith1 ,st4 ,hope1 ,st4 ,charity1 and ,st4 ,chastity1 invoked immediately after ,st4 ,clara and ,st4 ,bridget4 ,,lvi4 ,nevertheless1 in the hands of its early and earnest masters1 in whom fancy could not overthrow the foundations of faith1 personification is1 often thoroughly noble and lovely2 the earlier conditions of it being just as much more spiritual and vital than the later ones1 as the still earlier symbolism was more spiritual than they4 ,compare1 for instance1 ,dante's burning ,charity1 running and returning at the wheels of the chariot of ,god1-- ,so ruddy1 that her form had scarce ,been known within a furnace of clear flame1 with ,reynolds's ,charity1 a nurse in a white dress1 climbed upon by three children4#ade ,and not only so1 but the number and nature of the virtues differ considerably in the statements of different poets and painters1 according to their own views of religion1 or to the manner of life they had it in mind to illustrate4 ,giotto1 for instance1 arranges his system altogether differently at ,assisi1 where he is setting forth the monkish life1 and in the ,arena ,chapel1 where he treats of that of mankind in general1 and where1 therefore1 he gives only the so-called theological and cardinal virtues2 while1 at ,assisi1 the three principal virtues are those which are reported to have appeared in vision to ,st4 ,francis1 ,chastity1 ,obedience1 and ,poverty3 ,chastity being attended by ,fortitude1 ,purity1 and ,penance2 ,obedience by ,prudence and ,humility2 ,poverty by ,hope and ,charity4 ,the systems vary with almost every writer1 and in almost every important work of art which embodies them1 being more or less spiritual according to the power of intellect by which they were conceived4 ,the most noble in literature are1 ,i suppose1 those of ,dante and ,spenser3 and with these we may compare five of the most interesting series in the early art of ,italy2 namely1 those of ,orcagna1 ,giotto1 and ,simon ,memmi1 at ,florence and ,padua1 and those of ,st4 ,mark's and the ,ducal ,palace at ,venice4 ,of course1 in the richest of these series1 the vices are personified together with the virtues1 as in the ,ducal ,palace2 and by the form or name of opposed vice1 we may often ascertain1 with much greater accuracy than would otherwise be possible1 the particular idea of the contrary virtue in the mind of the writer or painter4 ,thus1 when opposed to ,prudence1 or ,prudentia1 on the one side1 we find ,folly1 or ,stultitia1 on the other1 it shows that the virtue understood by ,prudence1 is not the mere guiding or cardinal virtue1 but the ,heavenly ,wisdom1#adf opposed to that folly which hath said in its heart1 there is no ,god2 and of which it is said1 the thought of foolishness is sin2 and again1 ,such as be foolish shall not stand in thy sight4 ,this folly is personified1 in early painting and illumination1 by a half-naked man1 greedily eating an apple or other fruit1 and brandishing a club2 showing that sensuality and violence are the two principal characteristics of ,foolishness1 and lead into atheism4 ,the figure1 in early ,psalters1 always forms the letter ,d1 which commences the fifty-third ,psalm1 ,dixit insipiens4 ,,lvii4 ,in reading ,dante1 this mode of reasoning from contraries is a great help1 for his philosophy of the vices is the only one which admits of classification2 his descriptions of virtue1 while they include the ordinary formal divisions1 are far too profound and extended to be brought under definition4 ,every line of the ,paradise is full of the most exquisite and spiritual expressions of ,christian truth2 and that poem is only less read than the ,inferno because it requires far greater attention1 and1 perhaps1 for its full enjoyment1 a holier heart4 ,,lviii4 ,his system in the ,inferno is briefly this4 ,the whole nether world is divided into seven circles1 deep within deep1 in each of which1 according to its depth1 severer punishment is inflicted4 ,these seven circles1 reckoning them downwards1 are thus allotted3 #a4 ,to those who have lived virtuously1 but knew not ,christ4 #b4 ,to ,lust4 #c4 ,to ,gluttony4 #d4 ,to ,avarice and ,extravagance4 #e4 ,to ,anger and ,sorrow4 #f4 ,to ,heresy4 #g4 ,to ,violence and ,fraud4 ,this seventh circle is divided into two parts2 of which the first1 reserved for those who have been guilty of ,violence1 is again divided into three1 apportioned severally to those who have committed1 or desired to commit1 violence against their neighbors1 against themselves1 or against ,god4 ,the lowest hell1 reserved for the punishment of ,fraud1 is itself divided into ten circles1 wherein are severally punished the sins of1-- #a4 ,betraying women4 #b4 ,flattery4 #c4 ,simony4 #d4 ,false prophecy4 #e4 ,peculation4 #f4 ,hypocrisy4 #g4 ,theft4 #h4 ,false counsel4 #i4 ,schism and ,imposture4 #aj4 ,treachery to those who repose entire trust in the traitor4 ,,lix4 ,there is1 perhaps1 nothing more notable in this most interesting system than the profound truth couched under the attachment of so terrible a penalty to sadness or sorrow4 ,it is true that ,idleness does not elsewhere appear in the scheme1 and is evidently intended to be included in the guilt of sadness by the word accidioso2 but the main meaning of the poet is to mark the duty of rejoicing in ,god1 according both to ,st4 ,paul's command1 and ,isaiah's promise1 ,thou meetest him that rejoiceth and worketh righteousness4#adg ,i do not know words that might with more benefit be borne with us1 and set in our hearts momentarily against the minor regrets and rebelliousnesses of life1 than these simple ones3 ,tristi fummo ,nel aer dolce1 che del sol s' allegra1 ,or ci attristiam1 nella belletta negra4 ,we once were sad1 ,in the sweet air1 made gladsome by the sun1 ,now in these murky settlings are we sad4#adh ,,cary4 ,the virtue usually opposed to this vice of sullenness is ,alacritas1 uniting the sense of activity and cheerfulness4 ,spenser has cheerfulness simply1 in his description1 never enough to be loved or praised1 of the virtues of ,womanhood2 first feminineness or womanhood in specialty2 then1-- ,next to her sate goodly ,shamefastnesse1 ,ne ever durst1 her eyes from ground upreare1 ,ne ever once did looke up from her desse1#adi ,as if some blame of evill she did feare ,that in her cheekes made roses oft appeare3 ,and her against sweet ,cherefulnesse was placed1 ,whose eyes1 like twinkling stars in evening cleare1 ,were deckt with smyles that all sad humours chaced4 ,and next to her sate sober ,modestie1 ,holding her hand upon her gentle hart2 ,and her against1 sate comely ,curtesie1 ,that unto every person knew her part2 ,and her before was seated overthwart ,soft ,silence1 and submisse ,obedience1 ,both linckt together never to dispart4 ,,lx4 ,another notable point in ,dante's system is the intensity of uttermost punishment given to treason1 the peculiar sin of ,italy1 and that to which1 at this day1 she attributes her own misery with her own lips4 ,an ,italian1 questioned as to the causes of the failure of the campaign of #ahdh1 always makes one answer1 ,we were betrayed2 and the most melancholy feature of the present state of ,italy is principally this1 that she does not see that1 of all causes to which failure might be attributed1 this is at once the most disgraceful1 and the most hopeless4 ,in fact1 ,dante seems to me to have written almost prophetically1 for the instruction of modern ,italy1 and chiefly so in the sixth canto of the ,purgatorio4 ,,lxi4 ,hitherto we have been considering the system of the ,inferno only4 ,that of the ,purgatorio is much simpler1 it being divided into seven districts1 in which the souls are severally purified from the sins of ,pride1 ,envy1 ,wrath1 ,indifference1 ,avarice1 ,gluttony1 and ,lust2 the poet thus implying in opposition1 and describing in various instances1 the seven virtues of ,humility1 ,kindness1#aej ,patience1 ,zeal1 ,poverty1 ,abstinence1 and ,chastity1 as adjuncts of the ,christian character1 in which it may occasionally fail1 while the essential group of the three theological and four cardinal virtues are represented as in direct attendance on the chariot of the ,deity2 and all the sins of ,christians are in the seventeenth canto traced to the deficiency or aberration of ,affection4 ,,lxii4 ,the system of ,spenser is unfinished1 and exceedingly complicated1 the same vices and virtues occurring under different forms in different places1 in order to show their different relations to each other4 ,i shall not therefore give any general sketch of it1 but only refer to the particular personification of each virtue in order to compare it with that of the ,ducal ,palace4#aea ,the peculiar superiority of his system is in its exquisite setting forth of ,chastity under the figure of ,britomart2 not monkish chastity1 but that of the purest ,love4 ,in completeness of personification no one can approach him2 not even in ,dante do ,i remember anything quite so great as the description of the ,captain of the ,lusts of the ,flesh3 ,as pale and wan as ashes was his looke2 ,his body lean and meagre as a rake2 ,and skin all withered like a dryed rooke2 ,thereto as cold and drery as a snake2 ,that seemed to tremble evermore1 and quake3 ,all in a canvas thin he was bedight1 ,and girded with a belt of twisted brake3 ,upon his head he wore an helmet light1 ,made of a dead man's skull4 ,he rides upon a tiger1 and in his hand is a bow1 bent2 ,and many arrows under his right side1 ,headed with flint1 and fethers bloody dide4 ,the horror and the truth of this are beyond everything that ,i know1 out of the pages of ,inspiration4 ,note the heading of the arrows with flint1 because sharper and more subtle in the edge than steel1 and because steel might consume away with rust1 but flint not2 and consider in the whole description how the wasting away of body and soul together1 and the coldness of the heart1 which unholy fire has consumed into ashes1 and the loss of all power1 and the kindling of all terrible impatience1 and the implanting of thorny and inextricable griefs1 are set forth by the various images1 the belt of brake1 the tiger steed1 and the light helmet1 girding the head with death4 ,,lxiii4 ,perhaps the most interesting series of the ,virtues expressed in ,italian art are those above mentioned of ,simon ,memmi in the ,spanish chapel at ,florence1 of ,ambrogio di ,lorenzo in the ,palazzo ,publico of ,pisa1 of ,orcagna in ,or ,san ,michele at ,florence1 of ,giotto at ,padua and ,assisi1 in mosaic on the central cupola of ,st4 ,mark's1 and in sculpture on the pillars of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,the first two series are carefully described by ,lord ,lindsay2 both are too complicated for comparison with the more simple series of the ,ducal ,palace2 the other four of course agree in giving first the cardinal and evangelical virtues2 their variations in the statement of the rest will be best understood by putting them in a parallel arrangement4 ,,st4 ,,mark',s4 ,,orcagna4 ,,giotto4 ,,ducal ,,palace4 ,constancy4 ,perseverance4 ,constancy4 ,modesty4 ,modesty4 ,chastity4 ,virginity ,chastity4 ,chastity4 ,patience4 ,patience4 ,patience4 ,mercy4 ,abstinence4 ,abstinence8 ,piety4#aeb ,devotion4 ,benignity4 ,humility4 ,humility4 ,humility4 ,humility4 ,obedience4 ,obedience4 ,obedience4 ,docility4 ,caution4 ,poverty4 ,honesty4 ,liberality4 ,alacrity4 ,,lxiv4 ,it is curious1 that in none of these lists do we find either ,honesty or ,industry ranked as a virtue1 except in the ,venetian one1 where the latter is implied in ,alacritas1 and opposed not only by ,accidia or sloth1 but by a whole series of eight sculptures on another capital1 illustrative1 as ,i believe1 of the temptations to idleness2 while various other capitals1 as we shall see presently1 are devoted to the representation of the active trades4 ,industry1 in ,northern art and ,northern morality1 assumes a very principal place4 ,i have seen in ,french manuscripts the virtues reduced to these seven1 ,charity1 ,chastity1 ,patience1 ,abstinence1 ,humility1 ,liberality1 and ,industry3 and ,i doubt whether1 if we were but to add ,honesty 7or ,truth71 a wiser or shorter list could be made out4 ,,lxv4 ,we will now take the pillars of the ,ducal ,palace in their order4 ,it has already been mentioned 7,vol4 ,i4 ,chap4 ,i4 ,,xlvi47 that there are1 in all1 thirty-six great pillars supporting the lower story2 and that these are to be counted from right to left1 because then the more ancient of them come first3 and that1 thus arranged1 the first1 which is not a shaft1 but a pilaster1 will be the support of the ,vine angle2 the eighteenth will be the great shaft of the ,fig-tree angle2 and the thirty-sixth1 that of the ,judgment angle4 ,,lxvi4 ,all their capitals1 except that of the first1 are octagonal1 and are decorated by sixteen leaves1 differently enriched in every capital1 but arranged in the same way2 eight of them rising to the angles1 and there forming volutes2 the eight others set between them1 on the sides1 rising half-way up the bell of the capital2 there nodding forward1 and showing above them1 rising out of their luxuriance1 the groups or single figures which we have to examine4#aec ,in some instances1 the intermediate or lower leaves are reduced to eight sprays of foliage2 and the capital is left dependent for its effect on the bold position of the figures4 ,in referring to the figures on the octagonal capitals1 ,i shall call the outer side1 fronting either the ,sea or the ,piazzetta1 the first side2 and so count round from left to right2 the fourth side being thus1 of course1 the innermost4 ,as1 however1 the first five arches were walled up after the great fire1 only three sides of their capitals are left visible1 which we may describe as the front and the eastern and western sides of each4 ,,lxvii4 ,,first ,,capital3 i4e4 of the pilaster at the ,vine angle4 ,in front1 towards the ,sea4 ,a child holding a bird before him1 with its wings expanded1 covering his breast4 ,on its eastern side4 ,children's heads among leaves4 ,on its western side4 ,a child carrying in one hand a comb2 in the other1 a pair of scissors4 ,it appears curious1 that this1 the principal pilaster of the faade1 should have been decorated only by these graceful grotesques1 for ,i can hardly suppose them anything more4 ,there may be meaning in them1 but ,i will not venture to conjecture any1 except the very plain and practical meaning conveyed by the last figure to all ,venetian children1 which it would be well if they would act upon4 ,for the rest1 ,i have seen the comb introduced in grotesque work as early as the thirteenth century1 but generally for the purpose of ridiculing too great care in dressing the hair1 which assuredly is not its purpose here4 ,the children's heads are very sweet and full of life1 but the eyes sharp and small4 ,,lxviii4 ,,second ,,capital4 ,only three sides of the original work are left unburied by the mass of added wall4 ,each side has a bird1 one web-footed1 with a fish1 one clawed1 with a serpent1 which opens its jaws1 and darts its tongue at the bird's breast2 the third pluming itself1 with a feather between the mandibles of its bill4 ,it is by far the most beautiful of the three capitals decorated with birds4 ,,third ,,capital4 ,also has three sides only left4 ,they have three heads1 large1 and very ill cut2 one female1 and crowned4 ,,fourth ,,capital4 ,has three children4 ,the eastern one is defaced3 the one in front holds a small bird1 whose plumage is beautifully indicated1 in its right hand2 and with its left holds up half a walnut1 showing the nut inside3 the third holds a fresh fig1 cut through1 showing the seeds4 ,the hair of all the three children is differently worked3 the first has luxuriant flowing hair1 and a double chin2 the second1 light flowing hair falling in pointed locks on the forehead2 the third1 crisp curling hair1 deep cut with drill holes4 ,this capital has been copied on the ,renaissance side of the palace1 only with such changes in the ideal of the children as the workman thought expedient and natural4 ,it is highly interesting to compare the child of the fourteenth with the child of the fifteenth century4 ,the early heads are full of youthful life1 playful1 humane1 affectionate1 beaming with sensation and vivacity1 but with much manliness and firmness1 also1 not a little cunning1 and some cruelty perhaps1 beneath all2 the features small and hard1 and the eyes keen4 ,there is the making of rough and great men in them4 ,but the children of the fifteenth century are dull smooth-faced dunces1 without a single meaning line in the fatness of their stolid cheeks2 and1 although1 in the vulgar sense1 as handsome as the other children are ugly1 capable of becoming nothing but perfumed coxcombs4 ,,fifth ,,capital4 ,still three sides only left1 bearing three half-length statues of kings2 this is the first capital which bears any inscription4 ,in front1 a king with a sword in his right hand points to a handkerchief embroidered and fringed1 with a head on it1 carved on the cavetto of the abacus4 ,his name is written above1 ,,titus ,,vespasian ,,imperator 7contracted ,illustration3 ,,ipat474 ,on eastern side1 ,,trajanus ,,imperator4 ,crowned1 a sword in right hand1 and sceptre in left4 ,on western1 7,,oct7,,avianus ,,augustus ,,imperator4 ,the ,,oct is broken away4 ,he bears a globe in his right hand1 with ,,mundus ,,pacis upon it2 a sceptre in his left1 which ,i think has terminated in a human figure4 ,he has a flowing beard1 and a singularly high crown2 the face is much injured1 but has once been very noble in expression4 ,,sixth ,,capital4 ,has large male and female heads1 very coarsely cut1 hard1 and bad4 ,,lxix4 ,,seventh ,,capital4 ,this is the first of the series which is complete2 the first open arch of the lower arcade being between it and the sixth4 ,it begins the representation of the ,virtues4 ,first side4 ,largitas1 or ,liberality3 always distinguished from the higher ,charity4 ,a male figure1 with his lap full of money1 which he pours out of his hand4 ,the coins are plain1 circular1 and smooth2 there is no attempt to mark device upon them4 ,the inscription above is1 ,,largitas ,,me ,,onorat4 ,in the copy of this design on the twenty-fifth capital1 instead of showering out the gold from his open hand1 the figure holds it in a plate or salver1 introduced for the sake of disguising the direct imitation4 ,the changes thus made in the ,renaissance pillars are always injuries4 ,this virtue is the proper opponent of ,avarice2 though it does not occur in the systems of ,orcagna or ,giotto1 being included in ,charity4 ,it was a leading virtue with ,aristotle and the other ancients4 ,,lxx4 ,second side4 ,constancy2 not very characteristic4 ,an armed man with a sword in his hand1 inscribed1 ,,constantia ,,sum1 ,,nil ,,timens4 ,this virtue is one of the forms of fortitude1 and ,giotto therefore sets as the vice opponent to ,fortitude1 ,inconstantia1 represented as a woman in loose drapery1 falling from a rolling globe4 ,the vision seen in the interpreter's house in the ,pilgrim's ,progress1 of the man with a very bold countenance1 who says to him who has the writer's ink-horn by his side1 ,set down my name1 is the best personification of the ,venetian ,constantia of which ,i am aware in literature4 ,it would be well for us all to consider whether we have yet given the order to the man with the ink-horn1 ,set down my name4 ,,lxxi4 ,third side4 ,discord2 holding up her finger1 but needing the inscription above to assure us of her meaning1 ,,discordia ,,sum1 ,,discordans4 ,in the ,renaissance copy she is a meek and nun-like person with a veil4 ,she is the ,at of ,spenser2 mother of debate1 thus described in the fourth book3 ,her face most fowle and filthy was to see1 ,with squinted eyes contrarie wayes intended2 ,and loathly mouth1 unmeete a mouth to bee1 ,that nought but gall and venim comprehended1 ,and wicked wordes that ,god and man offended3 ,her lying tongue was in two parts divided1 ,and both the parts did speake1 and both contended2 ,and as her tongue1 so was her hart discided1 ,that never thoght one thing1 but doubly stil was guided4 ,note the fine old meaning of discided1 cut in two2 it is a great pity we have lost this powerful expression4 ,we might keep determined for the other sense of the word4 ,,lxxii4 ,fourth side4 ,patience4 ,a female figure1 very expressive and lovely1 in a hood1 with her right hand on her breast1 the left extended1 inscribed ,,patientia ,,manet ,,mecum4 ,she is one of the principal virtues in all the ,christian systems3 a masculine virtue in ,spenser1 and beautifully placed as the ,physician in the ,house of ,holinesse4 ,the opponent vice1 ,impatience1 is one of the hags who attend the ,captain of the ,lusts of the ,flesh2 the other being ,impotence4 ,in like manner1 in the ,pilgrim's ,progress1 the opposite of ,patience is ,passion2 but ,spenser's thought is farther carried4 ,his two hags1 ,impatience and ,impotence1 as attendant upon the evil spirit of ,passion1 embrace all the phenomena of human conduct1 down even to the smallest matters1 according to the adage1 ,more haste1 worse speed4 ,,lxxiii4 ,fifth side4 ,despair4 ,a female figure thrusting a dagger into her throat1 and tearing her long hair1 which flows down among the leaves of the capital below her knees4 ,one of the finest figures of the series2 inscribed ,,desperacio ,m,s 7mortis87 ,,crudelis4 ,in the ,renaissance copy she is totally devoid of expression1 and appears1 instead of tearing her hair1 to be dividing it into long curls on each side4 ,this vice is the proper opposite of ,hope4 ,by ,giotto she is represented as a woman hanging herself1 a fiend coming for her soul4 ,spenser's vision of ,despair is well known1 it being indeed currently reported that this part of the ,faerie ,queen was the first which drew to it the attention of ,sir ,philip ,sidney4 ,,lxxiv4 ,sixth side4 ,obedience3 with her arms folded2 meek1 but rude and commonplace1 looking at a little dog standing on its hind legs and begging1 with a collar round its neck4 ,inscribed ,,obedienti 99 992 the rest of the sentence is much defaced1 but looks like ,illustration3 ,graphic signs4 ,i suppose the note of contraction above the final ,a has disappeared and that the inscription was ,obedientiam domino exhibeo4 ,this virtue is1 of course1 a principal one in the monkish systems2 represented by ,giotto at ,assisi as an angel robed in black1 placing the finger of his left hand on his mouth1 and passing the yoke over the head of a ,franciscan monk kneeling at his feet4#aed ,obedience holds a less principal place in ,spenser4 ,we have seen her above associated with the other peculiar virtues of womanhood4 ,,lxxv4 ,seventh side4 ,infidelity4 ,a man in a turban1 with a small image in his hand1 or the image of a child4 ,of the inscription nothing but ,,infidelitate 99 99 99 and some fragmentary letters1 ,,ili1 ,,cero1 remain4 ,by ,giotto ,infidelity is most nobly symbolized as a woman helmeted1 the helmet having a broad rim which keeps the light from her eyes4 ,she is covered with heavy drapery1 stands infirmly as if about to fall1 is bound by a cord round her neck to an image which she carries in her hand1 and has flames bursting forth at her feet4 ,in ,spenser1 ,infidelity is the ,saracen knight ,sans ,foy1-- ,full large of limbe and every joint ,he was1 and cared not for ,god or man a point4 ,for the part which he sustains in the contest with ,godly ,fear1 or the ,red-cross knight1 see ,appendix #b1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,,lxxvi4 ,eighth side4 ,modesty2 bearing a pitcher4 7,in the ,renaissance copy1 a vase like a coffee-pot47 ,inscribed ,,modestia ,illustration3 ,graphic signs4 ,i do not find this virtue in any of the ,italian series1 except that of ,venice4 ,in ,spenser she is of course one of those attendant on ,womanhood1 but occurs as one of the tenants of the ,heart of ,man1 thus portrayed in the second book3 ,straunge was her tyre1 and all her garment blew1 ,close rownd about her tuckt with many a plight3 ,upon her fist the bird which shonneth vew4 99 99 99 99 99 ,and ever and anone with rosy red ,the bashfull blood her snowy cheekes did dye1 ,that her became1 as polisht yvory ,which cunning craftesman hand hath overlayd ,with fayre vermilion or pure castory4 ,,lxxvii4 ,,eighth ,,capital4 ,it has no inscriptions1 and its subjects are not1 by themselves1 intelligible2 but they appear to be typical of the degradation of human instincts4 ,first side4 ,a caricature of ,arion on his dolphin2 he wears a cap ending in a long proboscis-like horn1 and plays a violin with a curious twitch of the bow and wag of the head1 very graphically expressed1 but still without anything approaching to the power of ,northern grotesque4 ,his dolphin has a goodly row of teeth1 and the waves beat over his back4 ,second side4 ,a human figure1 with curly hair and the legs of a bear2 the paws laid1 with great sculptural skill1 upon the foliage4 ,it plays a violin1 shaped like a guitar1 with a bent double-stringed bow4 ,third side4 ,a figure with a serpent's tail and a monstrous head1 founded on a ,negro type1 hollow-cheeked1 large-lipped1 and wearing a cap made of a serpent's skin1 holding a fir-cone in its hand4 ,fourth side4 ,a monstrous figure1 terminating below in a tortoise4 ,it is devouring a gourd1 which it grasps greedily with both hands2 it wears a cap ending in a hoofed leg4 ,fifth side4 ,a centaur wearing a crested helmet1 and holding a curved sword4 ,sixth side4 ,a knight1 riding a headless horse1 and wearing chain armor1 with a triangular shield flung behind his back1 and a two-edged sword4 ,seventh side4 ,a figure like that on the fifth1 wearing a round helmet1 and with the legs and tail of a horse4 ,he bears a long mace with a top like a fir-cone4 ,eighth side4 ,a figure with curly hair1 and an acorn in its hand1 ending below in a fish4 ,,lxxviii4 ,ninth ,capital4 ,first side4 ,faith4 ,she has her left hand on her breast1 and the cross on her right4 ,inscribed ,,fides ,,optima ,,in ,,deo4 ,the ,faith of ,giotto holds the cross in her right hand2 in her left1 a scroll with the ,apostles' ,creed4 ,she treads upon cabalistic books1 and has a key suspended to her waist4 ,spenser's ,faith 7,fidelia7 is still more spiritual and noble3 ,she was araied all in lilly white1 ,and in her right hand bore a cup of gold1 ,with wine and water fild up to the hight1 ,in which a serpent did himselfe enfold1 ,that horrour made to all that did behold2 ,but she no whitt did chaunge her constant mood3 ,and in her other hand she fast did hold ,a booke1 that was both signd and seald with blood2 ,wherein darke things were writt1 hard to be understood4 ,,lxxix4 ,second side4 ,fortitude4 ,a long-bearded man ,samson8 tearing open a lion's jaw4 ,the inscription is illegible1 and the somewhat vulgar personification appears to belong rather to ,courage than ,fortitude4 ,on the ,renaissance copy it is inscribed ,,fortitudo ,,sum ,,virilis4 ,the ,latin word has1 perhaps1 been received by the sculptor as merely signifying ,strength1 the rest of the perfect idea of this virtue having been given in ,constantia previously4 ,but both these ,venetian symbols together do not at all approach the idea of ,fortitude as given generally by ,giotto and the ,pisan sculptors2 clothed with a lion's skin1 knotted about her neck1 and falling to her feet in deep folds2 drawing back her right hand1 with the sword pointed towards her enemy2 and slightly retired behind her immovable shield1 which1 with ,giotto1 is square1 and rested on the ground like a tower1 covering her up to above her shoulders2 bearing on it a lion1 and with broken heads of javelins deeply infixed4 ,among the ,greeks1 this is1 of course1 one of the principal virtues2 apt1 however1 in their ordinary conception of it to degenerate into mere manliness or courage4 ,,lxxx4 ,third side4 ,temperance2 bearing a pitcher of water and a cup4 ,inscription1 illegible here1 and on the ,renaissance copy nearly so1 ,,temperantia ,,sum 7,,inom' ,ls78 only left4 ,in this somewhat vulgar and most frequent conception of this virtue 7afterwards continually repeated1 as by ,sir ,joshua in his window at ,new ,college7 temperance is confused with mere abstinence1 the opposite of ,gula1 or gluttony2 whereas the ,greek ,temperance1 a truly cardinal virtue1 is the moderator of all the passions1 and so represented by ,giotto1 who has placed a bridle upon her lips1 and a sword in her hand1 the hilt of which she is binding to the scabbard4 ,in his system1 she is opposed among the vices1 not by ,gula or ,gluttony1 but by ,ira1 ,anger4 ,so also the ,temperance of ,spenser1 or ,sir ,guyon1 but with mingling of much sternness3 ,a goodly knight1 all armd in harnesse meete1 ,that from his head no place appeared to his feete1 ,his carriage was full comely and upright2 ,his countenance demure and temperate2 ,but yett so sterne and terrible in sight1 ,that cheard his friendes1 and did his foes amate4 ,the ,temperance of the ,greeks1 ,greek3 sphrosyn1 involves the idea of ,prudence1 and is a most noble virtue1 yet properly marked by ,plato as inferior to sacred enthusiasm1 though necessary for its government4 ,he opposes it1 under the name ,mortal ,temperance or the ,temperance which is of men1 to divine madness1 ,greek3 mania1 or inspiration2 but he most justly and nobly expresses the general idea of it under the term ,greek3 hubris1 which1 in the ,phdrus1 is divided into various intemperances with respect to various objects1 and set forth under the image of a black1 vicious1 diseased and furious horse1 yoked by the side of ,prudence or ,wisdom 7set forth under the figure of a white horse with a crested and noble head1 like that which we have among the ,elgin ,marbles7 to the chariot of the ,soul4 ,the system of ,aristotle1 as above stated1 is throughout a mere complicated blunder1 supported by sophistry1 the laboriously developed mistake of ,temperance for the essence of the virtues which it guides4 ,temperance in the medival systems is generally opposed by ,anger1 or by ,folly1 or ,gluttony3 but her proper opposite is ,spenser's ,acrasia1 the principal enemy of ,sir ,guyon1 at whose gates we find the subordinate vice ,excesse1 as the introduction to ,intemperance2 a graceful and feminine image1 necessary to illustrate the more dangerous forms of subtle intemperance1 as opposed to the brutal ,gluttony in the first book4 ,she presses grapes into a cup1 because of the words of ,st4 ,paul1 ,be not drunk with wine1 wherein is excess2 but always delicately1 ,into her cup she scruzd with daintie breach ,of her fine fingers1 without fowle empeach1 ,that so faire winepresse made the wine more sweet4 ,the reader will1 ,i trust1 pardon these frequent extracts from ,spenser1 for it is nearly as necessary to point out the profound divinity and philosophy of our great ,english poet1 as the beauty of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,,lxxxi4 ,fourth side4 ,humility2 with a veil upon her head1 carrying a lamp in her lap4 ,inscribed in the copy1 ,,humilitas ,,habitat ,,in ,,me4 ,this virtue is of course a peculiarly ,christian one1 hardly recognized in the ,pagan systems1 though carefully impressed upon the ,greeks in early life in a manner which at this day it would be well if we were to imitate1 and1 together with an almost feminine modesty1 giving an exquisite grace to the conduct and bearing of the well-educated ,greek youth4 ,it is1 of course1 one of the leading virtues in all the monkish systems1 but ,i have not any notes of the manner of its representation4 ,,lxxxii4 ,fifth side4 ,charity4 ,a woman with her lap full of loaves7871 giving one to a child1 who stretches his arm out for it across a broad gap in the leafage of the capital4 ,again very far inferior to the ,giottesque rendering of this virtue4 ,in the ,arena ,chapel she is distinguished from all the other virtues by having a circular glory round her head1 and a cross of fire2 she is crowned with flowers1 presents with her right hand a vase of corn and fruit1 and with her left receives treasure from ,christ1 who appears above her1 to provide her with the means of continual offices of beneficence1 while she tramples under foot the treasures of the earth4 ,the peculiar beauty of most of the ,italian conceptions of ,charity1 is in the subjection of mere munificence to the glowing of her love1 always represented by flames2 here in the form of a cross round her head2 in ,oreagna's shrine at ,florence1 issuing from a censer in her hand2 and1 with ,dante1 inflaming her whole form1 so that1 in a furnace of clear fire1 she could not have been discerned4 ,spenser represents her as a mother surrounded by happy children1 an idea afterwards grievously hackneyed and vulgarized by ,english painters and sculptors4 ,,lxxxiii4 ,sixth side4 ,justice4 ,crowned1 and with sword4 ,inscribed in the copy1 ,,rex ,,sum ,,justicie4 ,this idea was afterwards much amplified and adorned in the only good capital of the ,renaissance series1 under the ,judgment angle4 ,giotto has also given his whole strength to the painting of this virtue1 representing her as enthroned under a noble ,gothic canopy1 holding scales1 not by the beam1 but one in each hand2 a beautiful idea1 showing that the equality of the scales of ,justice is not owing to natural laws1 but to her own immediate weighing the opposed causes in her own hands4 ,in one scale is an executioner beheading a criminal2 in the other an angel crowning a man who seems 7in ,selvatico's plate7 to have been working at a desk or table4 ,beneath her feet is a small predella1 representing various persons riding securely in the woods1 and others dancing to the sound of music4 ,spenser's ,justice1 ,sir ,artegall1 is the hero of an entire book1 and the betrothed knight of ,britomart1 or chastity4 ,,lxxxiv4 ,seventh side4 ,prudence4 ,a man with a book and a pair of compasses1 wearing the noble cap1 hanging down towards the shoulder1 and bound in a fillet round the brow1 which occurs so frequently during the fourteenth century in ,italy in the portraits of men occupied in any civil capacity4 ,this virtue is1 as we have seen1 conceived under very different degrees of dignity1 from mere worldly prudence up to heavenly wisdom1 being opposed sometimes by ,stultitia1 sometimes by ,ignorantia4 ,i do not find1 in any of the representations of her1 that her truly distinctive character1 namely1 forethought1 is enough insisted upon3 ,giotto expresses her vigilance and just measurement or estimate of all things by painting her as ,janus-headed1 and gazing into a convex mirror1 with compasses in her right hand2 the convex mirror showing her power of looking at many things in small compass4 ,but forethought or anticipation1 by which1 independently of greater or less natural capacities1 one man becomes more prudent than another1 is never enough considered or symbolized4 ,the idea of this virtue oscillates1 in the ,greek systems1 between ,temperance and ,heavenly ,wisdom4 ,,lxxxv4 ,eighth side4 ,hope4 ,a figure full of devotional expression1 holding up its hands as in prayer1 and looking to a hand which is extended towards it out of sunbeams4 ,in the ,renaissance copy this hand does not appear4 ,of all the virtues1 this is the most distinctively ,christian 7it could not1 of course1 enter definitely into any ,pagan scheme72 and above all others1 it seems to me the testing virtue1--that by the possession of which we may most certainly determine whether we are ,christians or not2 for many men have charity1 that is to say1 general kindness of heart1 or even a kind of faith1 who have not any habitual hope of1 or longing for1 heaven4 ,the ,hope of ,giotto is represented as winged1 rising in the air1 while an angel holds a crown before her4 ,i do not know if ,spenser was the first to introduce our marine virtue1 leaning on an anchor1 a symbol as inaccurate as it is vulgar3 for1 in the first place1 anchors are not for men1 but for ships2 and in the second1 anchorage is the characteristic not of ,hope1 but of ,faith4 ,faith is dependent1 but ,hope is aspirant4 ,spenser1 however1 introduces ,hope twice1--the first time as the ,virtue with the anchor2 but afterwards fallacious ,hope1 far more beautifully1 in the ,masque of ,cupid3 ,she always smyld1 and in her hand did hold ,an holy-water sprinckle1 dipt in deowe4 ,,lxxxvi4 ,tenth ,capital4 ,first side4 ,luxury 7the opposite of chastity1 as above explained74 ,a woman with a jewelled chain across her forehead1 smiling as she looks into a mirror1 exposing her breast by drawing down her dress with one hand4 ,inscribed ,,luxuria ,,sum ,,imensa4 ,these subordinate forms of vice are not met with so frequently in art as those of the opposite virtues1 but in ,spenser we find them all4 ,his ,luxury rides upon a goat3 ,in a greene gowne he clothed was full faire1 ,which underneath did hide his filthinesse1 ,and in his hand a burning hart he bare4 ,but1 in fact1 the proper and comprehensive expression of this vice is the ,cupid of the ancients2 and there is not any minor circumstance more indicative of the intense difference between the medival and the ,renaissance spirit1 than the mode in which this god is represented4 ,i have above said1 that all great ,european art is rooted in the thirteenth century2 and it seems to me that there is a kind of central year about which we may consider the energy of the middle ages to be gathered2 a kind of focus of time which1 by what is to my mind a most touching and impressive ,divine appointment1 has been marked for us by the greatest writer of the middle ages1 in the first words he utters2 namely1 the year #acjj1 the mezzo del cammin of the life of ,dante4 ,now1 therefore1 to ,giotto1 the contemporary of ,dante1 and who drew ,dante's still existing portrait in this very year1 #acjj1 we may always look for the central medival idea in any subject3 and observe how he represents ,cupid2 as one of three1 a terrible trinity1 his companions being ,satan and ,death2 and he himself a lean scarecrow1 with bow1 quiver1 and fillet1 and feet ending in claws1#aee thrust down into ,hell by ,penance1 from the presence of ,purity and ,fortitude4 ,spenser1 who has been so often noticed as furnishing the exactly intermediate type of conception between the medival and the ,renaissance1 indeed represents ,cupid under the form of a beautiful winged god1 and riding on a lion1 but still no plaything of the ,graces1 but full of terror3 ,with that the darts which his right hand did straine ,full dreadfully he shooke1 that all did quake1 ,and clapt on hye his coloured winges twaine1 ,that all his many it afraide did make4 ,his many1 that is to say1 his company2 and observe what a company it is4 ,before him go ,fancy1 ,desire1 ,doubt1 ,danger1 ,fear1 ,fallacious ,hope1 ,dissemblance1 ,suspicion1 ,grief1 ,fury1 ,displeasure1 ,despite1 and ,cruelty4 ,after him1 ,reproach1 ,repentance1 ,shame1 ,unquiet ,care1 and fond ,unthriftyhead1 ,lewd ,losse of ,time1 and ,sorrow seeming dead1 ,inconstant ,chaunge1 and false ,disloyalty1 ,consuming ,riotise1 and guilty ,dread ,of heavenly vengeaunce2 faint ,infirmity1 ,vile ,poverty1 and lastly ,death with infamy4 ,compare these two pictures of ,cupid with the ,love-god of the ,renaissance1 as he is represented to this day1 confused with angels1 in every faded form of ornament and allegory1 in our furniture1 our literature1 and our minds4 ,,lxxxvii4 ,second side4 ,gluttony4 ,a woman in a turban1 with a jewelled cup in her right hand4 ,in her left1 the clawed limb of a bird1 which she is gnawing4 ,inscribed ,,gula ,,sine ,,ordine ,,sum4 ,spenser's ,gluttony is more than usually fine3 ,his belly was upblowne with luxury1 ,and eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne1 ,and like a crane his necke was long and fyne1 ,wherewith he swallowed up excessive feast1 ,for want whereof poore people oft did pyne4 ,he rides upon a swine1 and is clad in vine-leaves1 with a garland of ivy4 ,compare the account of ,excesse1 above1 as opposed to ,temperance4 ,,lxxxviii4 ,third side4 ,pride4 ,a knight1 with a heavy and stupid face1 holding a sword with three edges3 his armor covered with ornaments in the form of roses1 and with two ears attached to his helmet4 ,the inscription indecipherable1 all but ,,superbia4 ,spenser has analyzed this vice with great care4 ,he first represents it as the ,pride of life2 that is to say1 the pride which runs in a deep under current through all the thoughts and acts of men4 ,as such1 it is a feminine vice1 directly opposed to ,holiness1 and mistress of a castle called the ,house of ,pryde1 and her chariot is driven by ,satan1 with a team of beasts1 ridden by the mortal sins4 ,in the throne chamber of her palace she is thus described3 ,so proud she shyned in her princely state1 ,looking to ,heaven1 for ,earth she did disdayne2 ,and sitting high1 for lowly she did hate3 ,lo1 underneath her scornefull feete was layne ,a dreadfull dragon with an hideous trayne2 ,and in her hand she held a mirrhour bright1 ,wherein her face she often vewed fayne ,the giant ,orgoglio is a baser species of pride1 born of the ,earth and ,eolus2 that is to say1 of sensual and vain conceits4 ,his foster-father and the keeper of his castle is ,ignorance4 7,book ,i4 canto ,,viii47 ,finally1 ,disdain is introduced1 in other places1 as the form of pride which vents itself in insult to others4 ,,lxxxix4 ,fourth side4 ,anger4 ,a woman tearing her dress open at her breast4 ,inscription here undecipherable2 but in the ,renaissance copy it is ,,ira ,,crudelis ,,est ,,in ,,me4 ,giotto represents this vice under the same symbol2 but it is the weakest of all the figures in the ,arena ,chapel4 ,the ,wrath of ,spenser rides upon a lion1 brandishing a fire-brand1 his garments stained with blood4 ,rage1 or ,furor1 occurs subordinately in other places4 ,it appears to me very strange that neither ,giotto nor ,spenser should have given any representation of the restrained ,anger1 which is infinitely the most terrible2 both of them make him violent4 ,,xc4 ,fifth side4 ,avarice4 ,an old woman with a veil over her forehead1 and a bag of money in each hand4 ,a figure very marvellous for power of expression4 ,the throat is all made up of sinews with skinny channels deep between them1 strained as by anxiety1 and wasted by famine2 the features hunger-bitten1 the eyes hollow1 the look glaring and intense1 yet without the slightest3 caricature4 ,inscribed in the ,renaissance copy1 ,,avaritia ,,impletor4 ,spenser's ,avarice 7the vice7 is much feebler than this2 but the god ,mammon and his kingdom have been described by him with his usual power4 ,note the position of the house of ,richesse3 ,betwixt them both was but a little stride1 ,that did the ,house of ,richesse from ,hell-mouth divide4 ,it is curious that most moralists confuse avarice with covetousness1 although they are vices totally different in their operation on the human heart1 and on the frame of society4 ,the love of money1 the sin of ,judas and ,ananias1 is indeed the root of all evil in the hardening of the heart2 but covetousness1 which is idolatry1 the sin of ,ahab1 that is1 the inordinate desire of some seen or recognized good1--thus destroying peace of mind1--is probably productive of much more misery in heart1 and error in conduct1 than avarice itself1 only covetousness is not so inconsistent with ,christianity3 for covetousness may partly proceed from vividness of the affections and hopes1 as in ,david1 and be consistent with1 much charity2 not so avarice4 ,,xci4 ,sixth side4 ,idleness4 ,accidia4 ,a figure much broken away1 having had its arms round two branches of trees4 ,i do not know why ,idleness should be represented as among trees1 unless1 in the ,italy of the fourteenth century1 forest country was considered as desert1 and therefore the domain of ,idleness4 ,spenser fastens this vice especially upon the clergy1-- ,upon a slouthfull asse he chose to ryde1 ,arayd in habit blacke1 and amis thin1 ,like to an holy monck1 the service to begin4 ,and in his hand his portesse still he bare1 ,that much was worne1 but therein little redd4 ,and he properly makes him the leader of the train of the vices3 ,may seem the wayne was very evil ledd1 ,when such an one had guiding of the way ,observe that subtle touch of truth in the wearing of the portesse1 indicating the abuse of books by idle readers1 so thoroughly characteristic of unwilling studentship from the schoolboy upwards4 ,,xcii4 ,seventh side4 ,vanity4 ,she is smiling complacently as she looks into a mirror in her lap4 ,her robe is embroidered with roses1 and roses form her crown4 ,undecipherable4 ,there is some confusion in the expression of this vice1 between pride in the personal appearance and lightness of purpose4 ,the word ,vanitas generally1 ,i think1 bears1 in the medival period1 the sense given it in ,scripture4 ,let not him that is deceived trust in ,vanity1 for ,vanity shall be his recompense4 ,vanity of ,vanities4 ,the ,lord knoweth the thoughts of the wise1 that they are vain4 ,it is difficult to find this sin1--which1 after ,pride1 is the most universal1 perhaps the most fatal1 of all1 fretting the whole depth of our humanity into storm to waft a feather or to drown a fly1--definitely expressed in art4 ,even ,spenser1 ,i think1 has only partially expressed it under the figure of ,phdria1 more properly ,idle ,mirth1 in the second book4 ,the idea is1 however1 entirely worked out in the ,vanity ,fair of the ,pilgrim's ,progress4 ,,xciii4 ,eighth side4 ,envy4 ,one of the noblest pieces of expression in the series4 ,she is pointing malignantly with her finger2 a serpent is wreathed about her head like a cap1 another forms the girdle of her waist1 and a dragon rests in her lap4 ,giotto has1 however1 represented her1 with still greater subtlety1 as having her fingers terminating in claws1 and raising her right hand with an expression partly of impotent regret1 partly of involuntary grasping2 a serpent1 issuing from her mouth1 is about to bite her between the eyes2 she has long membranous ears1 horns on her head1 and flames consuming her body4 ,the ,envy of ,spenser is only inferior to that of ,giotto1 because the idea of folly and quickness of hearing is not suggested by the size of the ear3 in other respects it is even finer1 joining the idea of fury1 in the wolf on which he rides1 with that of corruption on his lips1 and of discoloration or distortion in the whole mind3 ,malicious ,envy rode ,upon a ravenous wolfe1 and still did chaw ,between his cankred teeth a venemous tode1 ,that all the poison ran about his jaw4 ,all in a kirtle of discolourd say ,he clothed was1 ypaynted full of eies1 ,and in his bosome secretly there lay ,an hatefull snake1 the which his taile uptyes ,in many folds1 and mortall sting implyes4 ,he has developed the idea in more detail1 and still more loathsomely1 in the twelfth canto of the fifth book4 ,,xciv4 ,,eleventh ,,capital4 ,its decoration is composed of eight birds1 arranged as shown in ,plate ,v4 of the ,seven ,lamps1 which1 however1 was sketched from the ,renaissance copy4 ,these birds are all varied in form and action1 but not so as to require special description4 ,,xcv4 ,,twelfth ,,capital4 ,this has been very interesting1 but is grievously defaced1 four of its figures being entirely broken away1 and the character of two others quite undecipherable4 ,it is fortunate that it has been copied in the thirty-third capital of the ,renaissance series1 from which we are able to identify the lost figures4 ,first side4 ,misery4 ,a man with a wan face1 seemingly pleading with a child who has its hands crossed on its breast4 ,there is a buckle at his own breast in the shape of a cloven heart4 ,inscribed ,,miseria4 ,the intention of this figure is not altogether apparent1 as it is by no means treated as a vice2 the distress seeming real1 and like that of a parent in poverty mourning over his child4 ,yet it seems placed here as in direct opposition to the virtue of ,cheerfulness1 which follows next in order2 rather1 however1 ,i believe1 with the intention of illustrating human life1 than the character of the vice which1 as we have seen1 ,dante placed in the circle of hell4 ,the word in that case would1 ,i think1 have been ,tristitia1 the unholy ,griefe of ,spenser-- ,all in sable sorrowfully clad1 ,downe hanging his dull head with heavy chere3 99 99 99 99 99 ,a pair of pincers in his hand he had1 ,with which he pinched people to the heart4 ,he has farther amplified the idea under another figure in the fifth canto of the fourth book3 ,his name was ,care2 a blacksmith by his trade1 ,that neither day nor night from working spared2 ,but to small purpose yron wedges made3 ,those be unquiet thoughts that carefull minds invade4 ,rude was his garment1 and to rags all rent1 ,ne better had he1 ne for better cared2 ,with blistered hands among the cinders brent4 ,it is to be noticed1 however1 that in the ,renaissance copy this figure is stated to be1 not ,miseria1 but ,misericordia4 ,the contraction is a very moderate one1 ,misericordia being in old ,,ms4 written always as ,mia4 ,if this reading be right1 the figure is placed here rather as the companion1 than the opposite1 of ,cheerfulness2 unless1 indeed1 it is intended to unite the idea of ,mercy and ,compassion with that of ,sacred ,sorrow4 ,,xcvi4 ,second side4 ,cheerfulness4 ,a woman with long flowing hair1 crowned with roses1 playing on a tambourine1 and with open lips1 as singing4 ,inscribed ,,alacritas4 ,we have already met with this virtue among those especially set by ,spenser to attend on ,womanhood4 ,it is inscribed in the ,renaissance copy1 ,,alachritas ,,chanit ,,mecum4 ,note the gutturals of the rich and fully developed ,venetian dialect now affecting the ,latin1 which is free from them in the earlier capitals4 ,,xcvii4 ,third side4 ,destroyed2 but1 from the copy1 we find it has been ,stultitia1 ,folly2 and it is there represented simply as a man riding1 a sculpture worth the consideration of the ,english residents who bring their horses to ,venice4 ,giotto gives ,stultitia a feather1 cap1 and club4 ,in early manuscripts he is always eating with one hand1 and striking with the other2 in later ones he has a cap and bells1 or cap crested with a cock's head1 whence the word coxcomb4 ,,xcviii4 ,fourth side4 ,destroyed1 all but a book1 which identifies it with the ,celestial ,chastity of the ,renaissance copy2 there represented as a woman pointing to a book 7connecting the convent life with the pursuit of literature874 ,spenser's ,chastity1 ,britomart1 is the most exquisitely wrought of all his characters2 but1 as before noticed1 she is not the ,chastity of the convent1 but of wedded life4 ,,xcix4 ,fifth side4 ,only a scroll is left2 but1 from the copy1 we find it has been ,honesty or ,truth4 ,inscribed ,,honestatem ,,diligo4 ,it is very curious1 that among all the ,christian systems of the virtues which we have examined1 we should find this one in ,venice only4 ,the ,truth of ,spenser1 ,una1 is1 after ,chastity1 the most exquisite character in the ,faerie ,queen4 ,c4 ,sixth side4 ,falsehood4 ,an old woman leaning on a crutch2 and inscribed in the copy1 ,,falsitas ,,in ,,me ,,semper ,,est4 ,the ,fidessa of ,spenser1 the great enemy of ,una1 or ,truth1 is far more subtly conceived1 probably not without special reference to the ,papal deceits4 ,in her true form she is a loathsome hag1 but in her outward aspect1 ,a goodly lady1 clad in scarlot red1 ,purfled with gold and pearle2444 ,her wanton palfrey all was overspred ,with tinsell trappings1 woven like a wave1 ,whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses brave4 ,dante's ,fraud1 ,geryon1 is the finest personification of all1 but the description 7,inferno1 canto ,,xvii47 is too long to be quoted4 ,,ci4 ,seventh side4 ,injustice4 ,an armed figure holding a halbert2 so also in the copy4 ,the figure used by ,giotto with the particular intention of representing unjust government1 is represented at the gate of an embattled castle in a forest1 between rocks1 while various deeds of violence are committed at his feet4 ,spenser's ,adicia is a furious hag1 at last transformed into a tiger4 ,eighth side4 ,a man with a dagger looking sorrowfully at a child1 who turns its back to him4 ,i cannot understand this figure4 ,it is inscribed in the copy1 ,,astinecia 7,abstinentia87 ,,opitima4 ,,cii4 ,,thirteenth ,,capital4 ,it has lions' heads all round1 coarsely cut4 ,,fourteenth ,,capital4 ,it has various animals1 each sitting on its haunches4 ,three dogs1 one a greyhound1 one long-haired1 one short-haired with bells about its neck2 two monkeys1 one with fan-shaped hair projecting on each side of its face2 a noble boar1 with its tusks1 hoofs1 and bristles sharply cut2 and a lion and lioness4 ,,ciii4 ,,fifteenth ,,capital4 ,the pillar to which it belongs is thicker than the rest1 as well as the one over it in the upper arcade4 ,the sculpture of this capital is also much coarser1 and seems to me later than that of the rest2 and it has no inscription1 which is embarrassing1 as its subjects have had much meaning2 but ,i believe ,selvatico is right in supposing it to have been intended for a general illustration of ,idleness4 ,first side4 ,a woman with a distaff2 her girdle richly decorated1 and fastened by a buckle4 ,second side4 ,a youth in a long mantle1 with a rose in his hand4 ,third side4 ,a woman in a turban stroking a puppy which she holds by the haunches4 ,fourth side4 ,a man with a parrot4 ,fifth side4 ,a woman in very rich costume1 with braided hair1 and dress thrown into minute folds1 holding a rosary787 in her left hand1 her right on her breast4 ,sixth side4 ,a man with a very thoughtful face1 laying his hand upon the leaves of the capital4 ,seventh side4 ,a crowned lady1 with a rose in her hand4 ,eighth side4 ,a boy with a ball in his left hand1 and his right laid on his breast4 ,,civ4 ,,sixteenth ,,capital4 ,it is decorated with eight large heads1 partly intended to be grotesque1#aef and very coarse and bad1 except only that in the sixth side1 which is totally different from all the rest1 and looks like a portrait4 ,it is thin1 thoughtful1 and dignified2 thoroughly fine in every way4 ,it wears a cap surmounted by two winged lions2 and1 therefore1 ,i think ,selvatico must have inaccurately written the list given in the note1 for this head is certainly meant to express the superiority of the ,venetian character over that of other nations4 ,nothing is more remarkable in all early sculpture1 than its appreciation of the signs of dignity of character in the features1 and the way in which it can exalt the principal figure in any subject by a few touches4 ,,cv4 ,,seventeenth ,,capital4 ,this has been so destroyed by the sea wind1 which sweeps at this point of the arcade round the angle of the palace1 that its inscriptions are no longer legible1 and great part of its figures are gone4 ,selvatico states them as follows3 ,solomon1 the wise2 ,priscian1 the grammarian2 ,aristotle1 the logician2 ,tully1 the orator2 ,pythagoras1 the philosopher2 ,archimedes1 the mechanic2 ,orpheus1 the musician2 ,ptolemy1 the astronomer4 ,the fragments actually remaining are the following3 ,first side4 ,a figure with two books1 in a robe richly decorated with circles of roses4 ,inscribed ,,salomon 7,,sap7,,iens4 ,second side4 ,a man with one book1 poring over it3 he has had a long stick or reed in his hand4 ,of inscription only the letters ,,grammatic remain4 ,third side4 ,,aristotle3 so inscribed4 ,he has a peaked double beard and a flat cap1 from under which his long hair falls down his back4 ,fourth side4 ,destroyed4 ,fifth side4 ,destroyed1 all but a board with three 7counters87 on it4 ,sixth side4 ,a figure with compasses4 ,inscribed ,,geomet 99 99 ,seventh side4 ,nothing is left but a guitar with its handle wrought into a lion's head4 ,eighth side4 ,destroyed4 ,,cvi4 ,we have now arrived at the ,,eighteenth ,,capital1 the most interesting and beautiful of the palace4 ,it represents the planets1 and the sun and moon1 in those divisions of the zodiac known to astrologers as their houses2 and perhaps indicates1 by the position in which they are placed1 the period of the year at which this great corner-stone was laid4 ,the inscriptions above have been in quaint ,latin rhyme1 but are now decipherable only in fragments1 and that with the more difficulty because the rusty iron bar that binds the abacus has broken away1 in its expansion1 nearly all the upper portions of the stone1 and with them the signs of contraction1 which are of great importance4 ,i shall give the fragments of them that ,i could decipher2 first as the letters actually stand 7putting those of which ,i am doubtful in brackets1 with a note of interrogation71 and then as ,i would read them4 ,,cvii4 ,it should be premised that1 in modern astrology1 the houses of the planets are thus arranged3 ,the house of the ,sun1 is ,leo4 ,moon1 ,cancer4 of ,mars1 ,aries and ,scorpio4 ,venus1 ,taurus and ,libra4 ,mercury1 ,gemini and ,virgo4 ,jupiter1 ,sagittarius and ,pisces4 ,saturn1 ,capricorn4 ,herschel1 ,aquarius4 ,the ,herschel planet being of course unknown to the old astrologers1 we have only the other six planetary powers1 together with the sun2 and ,aquarius is assigned to ,saturn as his house4 ,i could not find ,capricorn at all2 but this sign may have been broken away1 as the whole capital is grievously defaced4 ,the eighth side of the capital1 which the ,herschel planet would now have occupied1 bears a sculpture of the ,creation of ,man3 it is the most conspicuous side1 the one set diagonally across the angle2 or the eighth in our usual mode of reading the capitals1 from which ,i shall not depart4 ,,cviii4 ,the first side1 then1 or that towards the ,sea1 has ,aquarius1 as the house of ,saturn1 represented as a seated figure beautifully draped1 pouring a stream of water out of an amphora over the leaves of the capital4 ,his inscription is3 ,,et ,,saturne ,,domus 7,,eclocerunt87 #as #g;,,bre4 ,,cix4 ,second side4 ,jupiter1 in his houses ,sagittarius and ,pisces1 represented throned1 with an upper dress disposed in radiating folds about his neck1 and hanging down upon his breast1 ornamented by small pendent trefoiled studs or bosses4 ,he wears the drooping bonnet and long gloves2 but the folds about the neck1 shot forth to express the rays of the star1 are the most remarkable characteristic of the figure4 ,he raises his sceptre in his left hand over ,sagittarius1 represented as the centaur ,chiron2 and holds two thunnies in his right4 ,something rough1 like a third fish1 has been broken away below them2 the more easily because this part of the group is entirely undercut1 and the two fish glitter in the light1 relieved on the deep gloom below the leaves4 ,the inscription is3 ,,inde ,,jovi'#aeg ,,dona ,,pises ,,simul ,,atqs ,,cirona4 ,or1 ,inde ,jovis dona ,pisces simul atque ,chirona4 ,domus is1 ,i suppose1 to be understood before ,jovis3 ,then the house of ,jupiter gives 7or governs87 the fishes and ,chiron4 ,,cx4 ,third side4 ,mars1 in his houses ,aries and ,scorpio4 ,represented as a very ugly knight in chain mail1 seated sideways on the ram1 whose horns are broken away1 and having a large scorpion in his left hand1 whose tail is broken also1 to the infinite injury of the group1 for it seems to have curled across to the angle leaf1 and formed a bright line of light1 like the fish in the hand of ,jupiter4 ,the knight carries a shield1 on which fire and water are sculptured1 and bears a banner upon his lance1 with the word ,,deferosum1 which puzzled me for some time4 ,it should be read1 ,i believe1 ,de ferro sum2 which would be good ,venetian ,latin for ,i am of iron4 ,,cxi4 ,fourth side4 ,the ,sun1 in his house ,leo4 ,represented under the figure of ,apollo1 sitting on the ,lion1 with rays shooting from his head1 and the world in his hand4 ,the inscription3 ,,tu ,,es ,,domu' ,,solis 7,,quo 9987 ,,signe ,,leoni4 ,i believe the first phrase is1 ,tunc est ,domus solis2 but there is a letter gone after the quo1 and ,i have no idea what case of signum signe stands for4 ,,cxii4 ,fifth side4 ,venus1 in her houses ,taurus and ,libra4 ,the most beautiful figure of the series4 ,she sits upon the bull1 who is deep in the dewlap1 and better cut than most of the animals1 holding a mirror in her right hand1 and the scales in her left4 ,her breast is very nobly and tenderly indicated under the folds of her drapery1 which is exquisitely studied in its fall4 ,what is left of the inscription1 runs3 ,,libra ,,cum ,,tauro ,,domus 99 99 99 ,,purior ,,aur 994 ,,cxiii4 ,sixth side4 ,mercury1 represented as wearing a pendent cap1 and holding a book3 he is supported by three children in reclining attitudes1 representing his houses ,gemini and ,virgo4 ,but ,i cannot understand the inscription1 though more than usually legible4 ,,occupat ,,erigone ,,stibons ,,geminuq' ,,lacone4 ,,cxiv4 ,seventh side4 ,the ,moon1 in her house ,cancer4 ,this sculpture1 which is turned towards the ,piazzetta1 is the most picturesque of the series4 ,the moon is represented as a woman in a boat1 upon the sea1 who raises the crescent in her right hand1 and with her left draws a crab out of the waves1 up the boat's side4 ,the moon was1 ,i believe1 represented in ,egyptian sculptures as in a boat2 but ,i rather think the ,venetian was not aware of this1 and that he meant to express the peculiar sweetness of the moonlight at ,venice1 as seen across the lagoons4 ,whether this was intended by putting the planet in the boat1 may be questionable1 but assuredly the idea was meant to be conveyed by the dress of the figure4 ,for all the draperies of the other figures on this capital1 as well as on the rest of the faade1 are disposed in severe but full folds1 showing little of the forms beneath them2 but the moon's drapery ripples down to her feet1 so as exactly to suggest the trembling of the moonlight on the waves4 ,this beautiful idea is highly characteristic of the thoughtfulness of the early sculptors3 five hundred men may be now found who could have cut the drapery1 as such1 far better1 for one who would have disposed its folds with this intention4 ,the inscription is3 ,,lune ,,cancer ,,domu ,t4 ,,pbet ,,iorbe ,,signoru4 ,,cxv4 ,eighth side4 ,god creating ,man4 ,represented as a throned figure1 with a glory round the head1 laying his left hand on the head of a naked youth1 and sustaining him with his right hand4 ,the inscription puzzled me for a long time2 but except the lost r and m of formavit1 and a letter quite undefaced1 but to me unintelligible1 before the word ,eva1 in the shape of a figure of #g1 ,i have safely ascertained the rest4 ,,delimo ,,dsada ,,deco ,,stafo 99 99 ,,avit#g;,,eva4 ,or ,de limo ,dominus ,adam1 de costa fo7rm7 avit ,evam2 ,from the dust the ,lord made ,adam1 and from the rib ,eve4 ,i imagine the whole of this capital1 therefore--the principal one of the old palace1--to have been intended to signify1 first1 the formation of the planets for the service of man upon the earth2 secondly1 the entire subjection of the fates and fortune of man to the will of ,god1 as determined from the time when the earth and stars were made1 and1 in fact1 written in the volume of the stars themselves4 ,thus interpreted1 the doctrines of judicial astrology were not only consistent with1 but an aid to1 the most spiritual and humble ,christianity4 ,in the workmanship and grouping of its foliage1 this capital is1 on the whole1 the finest ,i know in ,europe4 ,the sculptor has put his whole strength into it4 ,i trust that it will appear among the other ,venetian casts lately taken for the ,crystal ,palace2 but if not1 ,i have myself cast all its figures1 and two of its leaves1 and ,i intend to give drawings of them on a large scale in my folio work4 ,,cxvi4 ,,nineteenth ,,capital4 ,this is1 of course1 the second counting from the ,sea1 on the ,piazzetta side of the palace1 calling that of the ,fig-tree angle the first4 ,it is the most important capital1 as a piece of evidence in point of dates1 in the whole palace4 ,great pains have been taken with it1 and in some portion of the accompanying furniture or ornaments of each of its figures a small piece of colored marble has been inlaid1 with peculiar significance3 for the capital represents the arts of sculpture and architecture2 and the inlaying of the colored stones 7which are far too small to be effective at a distance1 and are found in this one capital only of the whole series7 is merely an expression of the architect's feeling of the essential importance of this art of inlaying1 and of the value of color generally in his own art4 ,,cxvii4 ,first side4 ,,st4 ,,simplicius3 so inscribed4 ,a figure working with a pointed chisel on a small oblong block of green serpentine1 about four inches long by one wide1 inlaid in the capital4 ,the chisel is1 of course1 in the left hand1 but the right is held up open1 with the palm outwards4 ,second side4 ,a crowned figure1 carving the image of a child on a small statue1 with a ground of red marble4 ,the sculptured figure is highly finished1 and is in type of head much like the ,ham or ,japheth at the ,vine angle4 ,inscription effaced4 ,third side4 ,an old man1 uncrowned1 but with curling hair1 at work on a small column1 with its capital complete1 and a little shaft of dark red marble1 spotted with paler red4 ,the capital is precisely of the form of that found in the palace of the ,tiepolos and the other thirteenth century work of ,venice4 ,this one figure would be quite enough1 without any other evidence whatever1 to determine the date of this flank of the ,ducal ,palace as not later1 at all events1 than the first half of the fourteenth century4 ,its inscription is broken away1 all but ,,disipulo4 ,fourth side4 ,a crowned figure2 but the object on which it has been working is broken away1 and all the inscription except ,,st4 ,e7,n87,,as4 ,fifth side4 ,a man with a turban1 and a sharp chisel1 at work on a kind of panel or niche1 the back of which is of red marble4 ,sixth side4 ,a crowned figure1 with hammer and chisel1 employed on a little range of windows of the fifth order1 having roses set1 instead of orbicular ornaments1 between the spandrils1 with a rich cornice1 and a band of marble inserted above4 ,this sculpture assures us of the date of the fifth order window1 which it shows to have been universal in the early fourteenth century4 ,there are also five arches in the block on which the sculptor is working1 marking the frequency of the number five in the window groups of the time4 ,seventh side4 ,a figure at work on a pilaster1 with ,lombardic thirteenth century capital 7for account of the series of forms in ,venetian capitals1 see the final ,appendix of the next volume71 the shaft of dark red spotted marble4 ,eighth side4 ,a figure with a rich open crown1 working on a delicate recumbent statue1 the head of which is laid on a pillow covered with a rich chequer pattern2 the whole supported on a block of dark red marble4 ,inscription broken away1 all but ,,st4 ,,sym4 7,symmachus87 ,,tv 99 99 ,,anvs4 ,there appear1 therefore1 altogether to have been five saints1 two of them popes1 if ,simplicius is the pope of that name 7three in front1 two on the fourth and sixth sides71 alternating with the three uncrowned workmen in the manual labor of sculpture4 ,i did not1 therefore1 insult our present architects in saying above that they ought to work in the mason's yard with their men4 ,it would be difficult to find a more interesting expression of the devotional spirit in which all great work was undertaken at this time4 ,,cxviii4 ,,twentieth ,,capital4 ,it is adorned with heads of animals1 and is the finest of the whole series in the broad massiveness of its effect2 so simply characteristic1 indeed1 of the grandeur of style in the entire building1 that ,i chose it for the first ,plate in my folio work4 ,in spite of the sternness of its plan1 however1 it is wrought with great care in surface detail2 and the ornamental value of the minute chasing obtained by the delicate plumage of the birds1 and the clustered bees on the honeycomb in the bear's mouth1 opposed to the strong simplicity of its general form1 cannot be too much admired4 ,there are also more grace1 life1 and variety in the sprays of foliage on each side of it1 and under the heads1 than in any other capital of the series1 though the earliness of the workmanship is marked by considerable hardness and coldness in the larger heads4 ,a ,northern ,gothic workman1 better acquainted with bears and wolves than it was possible to become in ,st4 ,mark's ,place1 would have put far more life into these heads1 but he could not have composed them more skilfully4 ,,cxix4 ,first side4 ,a lion with a stag's haunch in his mouth4 ,those readers who have the folio plate1 should observe the peculiar way in which the ear is cut into the shape of a ring1 jagged or furrowed on the edge2 an archaic mode of treatment peculiar1 in the ,ducal ,palace1 to the lions' heads of the fourteenth century4 ,the moment we reach the ,renaissance work1 the lions' ears are smooth4 ,inscribed simply1 ,,leo4 ,second side4 ,a wolf with a dead bird in his mouth1 its body wonderfully true in expression of the passiveness of death4 ,the feathers are each wrought with a central quill and radiating filaments4 ,inscribed ,,lupus4 ,third side4 ,a fox1 not at all like one1 with a dead cock in his mouth1 its comb and pendent neck admirably designed so as to fall across the great angle leaf of the capital1 its tail hanging down on the other side1 its long straight feathers exquisitely cut4 ,inscribed 7,,vulp87,,is4 ,fourth side4 ,entirely broken away4 ,fifth side4 ,,aper4 ,well tusked1 with a head of maize in his mouth2 at least ,i suppose it to be maize1 though shaped like a pine-cone4 ,sixth side4 ,,chanis4 ,with a bone1 very ill cut2 and a bald-headed species of dog1 with ugly flap ears4 ,seventh side4 ,,muscipulus4 ,with a rat 787 in his mouth4 ,eighth side4 ,,ursus4 ,with a honeycomb1 covered with large bees4 ,,cxx4 ,,twenty-,,first ,,capital4 ,represents the principal inferior professions4 ,first side4 ,an old man1 with his brow deeply wrinkled1 and very expressive features1 beating in a kind of mortar with a hammer4 ,inscribed ,,lapicida ,,sum4 ,second side4 ,i believe1 a goldsmith2 he is striking a small flat bowl or patera1 on a pointed anvil1 with a light hammer4 ,the inscription is gone4 ,third side4 ,a shoemaker with a shoe in his hand1 and an instrument for cutting leather suspended beside him4 ,inscription undecipherable4 ,fourth side4 ,much broken4 ,a carpenter planing a beam resting on two horizontal logs4 ,inscribed ,,carpentarius ,,sum4 ,fifth side4 ,a figure shovelling fruit into a tub2 the latter very carefully carved from what appears to have been an excellent piece of cooperage4 ,two thin laths cross each other over the top of it4 ,the inscription1 now lost1 was1 according to ,selvatico1 ,,mensurator8 ,sixth side4 ,a man1 with a large hoe1 breaking the ground1 which lies in irregular furrows and clods before him4 ,now undecipherable1 but according to ,selvatico1 ,,agrichola4 ,seventh side4 ,a man1 in a pendent cap1 writing on a large scroll which falls over his knee4 ,inscribed ,,notarius ,,sum4 ,eighth side4 ,a man forging a sword1 or scythe-blade3 he wears a large skull-cap2 beats with a large hammer on a solid anvil2 and is inscribed ,,faber ,,sum4 ,,cxxi4 ,,twenty-,,second ,,capital4 ,the ,ages of ,man2 and the influence of the planets on human life4 ,first side4 ,the moon1 governing infancy for four years1 according to ,selvatico4 ,i have no note of this side1 having1 ,i suppose1 been prevented from raising the ladder against it by some fruit-stall or other impediment in the regular course of my examination2 and then forgotten to return to it4 ,second side4 ,a child with a tablet1 and an alphabet inscribed on it4 ,the legend above is ,,mecureus ,,dnt4 ,,puericie ,,pan4 ,x4 ,or1 ,mercurius dominatur pueriti per annos ,x4 7,selvatico reads ,,vii47 ,mercury governs boyhood for ten 7or seven7 years4 ,third side4 ,an older youth1 with another tablet1 but broken4 ,inscribed ,,adoloscencie 99 99 99 ,p4 ,,an4 ,,vii4 ,selvatico misses this side altogether1 as ,i did the first1 so that the lost planet is irrecoverable1 as the inscription is now defaced4 ,note the o for e in adolescentia2 so also we constantly find u for o2 showing1 together with much other incontestable evidence of the same kind1 how full and deep the old pronunciation of ,latin always remained1 and how ridiculous our ,english mincing of the vowels would have sounded to a ,roman ear4 ,fourth side4 ,a youth with a hawk on his fist4 ,,iuventuti ,,dnt ,,sol4 ,p4 ,,an4 ,,xix4 ,the son governs youth for nineteen years4 ,fifth side4 ,a man sitting1 helmed1 with a sword over his shoulder4 ,inscribed ,,senectuti ,,dnt ,,mars4 ,p4 ,,an4 ,,xv4 ,mars governs manhood for fifteen years4 ,sixth side4 ,a very graceful and serene figure1 in the pendent cap1 reading4 ,,senicie ,,dnt ,,jupiter1 ,p4 ,,ann4 ,,xii4 ,jupiter governs age for twelve years4 ,seventh side4 ,an old man in a skull-cap1 praying4 ,,decrepite ,,dnt ,,satn ,,uqs ,,admote4 7,saturnus usque ad mortem47 ,saturn governs decrepitude until death4 ,eighth side4 ,the dead body lying on a mattress4 ,,ultima ,,est ,,mors ,,pena ,,peccati4 ,last comes death1 the penalty of sin4 ,,cxxii4 ,shakspeare's ,seven ,ages are of course merely the expression of this early and well known system4 ,he has deprived the dotage of its devotion2 but ,i think wisely1 as the ,italian system would imply that devotion was1 or should be1 always delayed until dotage4 ,,twenty-,,third ,,capital4 ,i agree with ,selvatico in thinking this has been restored4 ,it is decorated with large and vulgar heads4 ,,cxxiii4 ,,twenty-,,fourth ,,capital4 ,this belongs to the large shaft which sustains the great party wall of the ,sala del ,gran ,consiglio4 ,the shaft is thicker than the rest2 but the capital1 though ancient1 is coarse and somewhat inferior in design to the others of the series4 ,it represents the history of marriage3 the lover first seeing his mistress at a window1 then addressing her1 bringing her presents2 then the bridal1 the birth and the death of a child4 ,but ,i have not been able to examine these sculptures properly1 because the pillar is encumbered by the railing which surrounds the two guns set before the ,austrian guard-house4 ,,cxxiv4 ,,twenty-,,fifth ,,capital4 ,we have here the employments of the months1 with which we are already tolerably acquainted4 ,there are1 however1 one or two varieties worth noticing in this series4 ,first side4 ,march4 ,sitting triumphantly in a rich dress1 as the beginning of the year4 ,second side4 ,april and ,may4 ,april with a lamb3 ,may with a feather fan in her hand4 ,third side4 ,june4 ,carrying cherries in a basket4 ,i did not give this series with the others in the previous chapter1 because this representation of ,june is peculiarly ,venetian4 ,it is called the month of cherries1 mese delle ceriese1 in the popular rhyme on the conspiracy of ,tiepolo1 quoted above1 ,vol4 ,i4 ,the cherries principally grown near ,venice are of a deep red color1 and large1 but not of high flavor1 though refreshing4 ,they are carved upon the pillar with great care1 all their stalks undercut4 ,fourth side4 ,july and ,august4 ,the first reaping2 the leaves of the straw being given1 shooting out from the tubular stalk4 ,august1 opposite1 beats 7the grain87 in a basket4 ,fifth side4 ,september4 ,a woman standing in a wine-tub1 and holding a branch of vine4 ,very beautiful4 ,sixth side4 ,october and ,november4 ,i could not make out their occupation2 they seem to be roasting or boiling some root over a fire4 ,seventh side4 ,december4 ,killing pigs1 as usual4 ,eighth side4 ,january warming his feet1 and ,february frying fish4 ,this last employment is again as characteristic of the ,venetian winter as the cherries are of the ,venetian summer4 ,the inscriptions are undecipherable1 except a few letters here and there1 and the words ,,marcius1 ,,aprilis1 and ,,februarius4 ,this is the last of the capitals of the early palace2 the next1 or twenty-sixth capital1 is the first of those executed in the fifteenth century under ,foscari2 and hence to the ,judgment angle the traveller has nothing to do but to compare the base copies of the earlier work with their originals1 or to observe the total want of invention in the ,renaissance sculptor1 wherever he has depended on his own resources4 ,this1 however1 always with the exception of the twenty-seventh and of the last capital1 which are both fine4 ,i shall merely enumerate the subjects and point out the plagiarisms of these capitals1 as they are not worth description4 ,,cxxv4 ,,twenty-,,sixth ,,capital4 ,copied from the fifteenth1 merely changing the succession of the figures4 ,,twenty-,,seventh ,,capital4 ,i think it possible that this may be part of the old work displaced in joining the new palace with the old2 at all events1 it is well designed1 though a little coarse4 ,it represents eight different kinds of fruit1 each in a basket2 the characters well given1 and groups well arranged1 but without much care or finish4 ,the names are inscribed above1 though somewhat unnecessarily1 and with certainly as much disrespect to the beholder's intelligence as the sculptor's art1 namely1 ,,zerexis1 ,,piri1 ,,chucumeris1 ,,persici1 ,,zuche1 ,,moloni1 ,,fici1 ,,huva4 ,zerexis 7cherries7 and ,zuche 7gourds7 both begin with the same letter1 whether meant for z1 s1 or c ,i am not sure4 ,the ,zuche are the common gourds1 divided into two protuberances1 one larger than the other1 like a bottle compresed near the neck2 and the ,moloni are the long water-melons1 which1 roasted1 form a staple food of the ,venetians to this day4 ,,cxxvi4 ,,twenty-,,eighth ,,capital4 ,copied from the seventh4 ,,twenty-,,ninth ,,capital4 ,copied from the ninth4 ,,thirtieth ,,capital4 ,copied from the tenth4 ,the ,accidia is noticeable as having the inscription complete1 ,,accidia ,,me ,,stringit2 and the ,luxuria for its utter want of expression1 having a severe and calm face1 a robe up to the neck1 and her hand upon her breast4 ,the inscription is also different3 ,,luxuria ,,sum ,,sterc,s 787 ,,inferi 7874 ,,thirty-,,first ,,capital4 ,copied from the eighth4 ,,thirty-,,second ,,capital4 ,has no inscription1 only fully robed figures laying their hands1 without any meaning1 on their own shoulders1 heads1 or chins1 or on the leaves around them4 ,,thirty-,,third ,,capital4 ,copied from the twelfth4 ,,thirty-,,fourth ,,capital4 ,copied from the eleventh4 ,,thirty-,,fifth ,,capital4 ,has children1 with birds or fruit1 pretty in features1 and utterly inexpressive1 like the cherubs of the eighteenth century4 ,,cxxvii4 ,,thirty-,,sixth ,,capital4 ,this is the last of the ,piazzetta faade1 the elaborate one under the ,judgment angle4 ,its foliage is copied from the eighteenth at the opposite side1 with an endeavor on the part of the ,renaissance sculptor to refine upon it1 by which he has merely lost some of its truth and force4 ,this capital will1 however1 be always thought1 at first1 the most beautiful of the whole series3 and indeed it is very noble2 its groups of figures most carefully studied1 very graceful1 and much more pleasing than those of the earlier work1 though with less real power in them2 and its foliage is only inferior to that of the magnificent ,fig-tree angle4 ,it represents1 on its front or first side1 ,justice enthroned1 seated on two lions2 and on the seven other sides examples of acts of justice or good government1 or figures of lawgivers1 in the following order3 ,second side4 ,aristotle1 with two pupils1 giving laws4 ,inscribed3 ,,aristot 99 99 ,,che ,,die ,,lege4 ,aristotle who declares laws4 ,third side4 ,i have mislaid my note of this side3 ,selvatico and ,lazari call it ,isidore 7874#aeh ,fourth side4 ,solon with his pupils4 ,inscribed3 ,,sal,o ,,uno ,,dei ,,sete ,,savi ,,di ,,grecia ,,che ,,die ,,lege4 ,solon1 one of the seven sages of ,greece1 who declares laws4 ,note1 by the by1 the pure ,venetian dialect used in this capital1 instead of the ,latin in the more ancient ones4 ,one of the seated pupils in this sculpture is remarkably beautiful in the sweep of his flowing drapery4 ,fifth side4 ,the chastity of ,scipio4 ,inscribed3 ,,isipione ,a ,,chastita ,,ch 99 99 99 ,e ,,la ,,fia 7e la figlia87 99 99 ,,are4 ,a soldier in a plumed bonnet presents a kneeling maiden to the seated ,scipio1 who turns thoughtfully away4 ,sixth side4 ,numa ,pompilius building churches4 ,,numa ,,pompilio ,,imperador ,,edifichador ,,di ,,tempi ,e ,,chiese4 ,numa1 in a kind of hat with a crown above it1 directing a soldier in ,roman armor 7note this1 as contrasted with the mail of the earlier capitals74 ,they point to a tower of three stories filled with tracery4 ,seventh side4 ,moses receiving the law4 ,inscribed3 ,,quando ,,mose ,,receve ,,la ,,lege ,i ,,sul ,,monte4 ,moses kneels on a rock1 whence springs a beautifully fancied tree1 with clusters of three berries in the centre of three leaves1 sharp and quaint1 like fine ,northern ,gothic4 ,the half figure of the ,deity comes out of the abacus1 the arm meeting that of ,moses1 both at full stretch1 with the stone tablets between4 ,eighth side4 ,trajan doing justice to the ,widow4 ,,trajano ,,imperador ,,che ,,fa ,,justitia ,a ,,la ,,vedova4 ,he is riding spiritedly1 his mantle blown out behind3 the widow kneeling before his horse4 ,,cxxviii4 ,the reader will observe that this capital is of peculiar interest in its relation to the much disputed question of the character of the later government of ,venice4 ,it is the assertion by that government of its belief that ,justice only could be the foundation of its stability2 as these stones of ,justice and ,judgment are the foundation of its halls of council4 ,and this profession of their faith may be interpreted in two ways4 ,most modern historians would call it1 in common with the continual reference to the principles of justice in the political and judicial language of the period1#aei nothing more than a cloak for consummate violence and guilt2 and it may easily be proved to have been so in myriads of instances4 ,but in the main1 ,i believe the expression of feeling to be genuine4 ,i do not believe1 of the majority of the leading ,venetians of this period whose portraits have come down to us1 that they were deliberately and everlastingly hypocrites4 ,i see no hypocrisy in their countenances4 ,much capacity of it1 much subtlety1 much natural and acquired reserve2 but no meanness4 ,on the contrary1 infinite grandeur1 repose1 courage1 and the peculiar unity and tranquillity of expression which come of sincerity or wholeness of heart1 and which it would take much demonstration to make me believe could by any possibility be seen on the countenance of an insincere man4 ,i trust1 therefore1 that these ,venetian nobles of the fifteenth century did1 in the main1 desire to do judgment and justice to all men2 but1 as the whole system of morality had been by this time undermined by the teaching of the ,romish ,church1 the idea of justice had become separated from that of truth1 so that dissimulation in the interest of the state assumed the aspect of duty4 ,we had1 perhaps1 better consider1 with some carefulness1 the mode in which our own government is carried on1 and the occasional difference between parliamentary and private morality1 before we judge mercilessly of the ,venetians in this respect4 ,the secrecy with which their political and criminal trials were conducted1 appears to modern eyes like a confession of sinister intentions2 but may it not also be considered1 and with more probability1 as the result of an endeavor to do justice in an age of violence8--the only means by which ,law could establish its footing in the midst of feudalism4 ,might not ,irish juries at this day justifiably desire to conduct their proceedings with some greater approximation to the judicial principles of the ,council of ,ten8 ,finally1 if we examine1 with critical accuracy1 the evidence on which our present impressions of ,venetian government are founded1 we shall discover1 in the first place1 that two-thirds of the traditions of its cruelties are romantic fables3 in the second1 that the crimes of which it can be proved to have been guilty1 differ only from those committed by the other ,italian powers in being done less wantonly1 and under profounder conviction of their political expediency3 and lastly1 that the final degradation of the ,venetian power appears owing not so much to the principles of its government1 as to their being forgotten in the pursuit of pleasure4 ,,cxxix4 ,we have now examined the portions of the palace which contain the principal evidence of the feeling of its builders4 ,the capitals of the upper arcade are exceedingly various in their character2 their design is formed1 as in the lower series1 of eight leaves1 thrown into volutes at the angles1 and sustaining figures at the flanks2 but these figures have no inscriptions1 and though evidently not without meaning1 cannot be interpreted without more knowledge than ,i possess of ancient symbolism4 ,many of the capitals toward the ,sea appear to have been restored1 and to be rude copies of the ancient ones2 others1 though apparently original1 have been somewhat carelessly wrought2 but those of them1 which are both genuine and carefully treated1 are even finer in composition than any1 except the eighteenth1 in the lower arcade4 ,the traveller in ,venice ought to ascend into the corridor1 and examine with great care the series of capitals which extend on the ,piazzetta side from the ,fig-tree angle to the pilaster which carries the party wall of the ,sala del ,gran ,consiglio4 ,as examples of graceful composition in massy capitals meant for hard service and distant effect1 these are among the finest things ,i know in ,gothic art2 and that above the fig-tree is remarkable for its sculptures of the four winds2 each on the side turned towards the wind represented4 ,levante1 the east wind2 a figure with rays round its head1 to show that it is always clear weather when that wind blows1 raising the sun out of the sea3 ,hotro1 the south wind2 crowned1 holding the sun in its right hand2 ,ponente1 the west wind2 plunging the sun into the sea3 and ,tramontana1 the north wind2 looking up at the north star4 ,this capital should be carefully examined1 if for no other reason than to attach greater distinctness of idea to the magnificent verbiage of ,milton3 ,thwart of these1 as fierce1 ,forth rush the ,levant and the ,ponent winds1 ,eurus1 and ,zephyr2 with their lateral noise1 ,sirocco and ,libecchio4 ,i may also especially point out the bird feeding its three young ones on the seventh pillar on the ,piazzetta side2 but there is no end to the fantasy of these sculptures2 and the traveller ought to observe them all carefully1 until he comes to the great ,pilaster or complicated pier which sustains the party wall of the ,sala del ,consiglio2 that is to say1 the forty-seventh capital of the whole series1 counting from the pilaster of the ,vine angle inclusive1 as in the series of the lower arcade4 ,the forty-eighth1 forty-ninth1 and fiftieth are bad work1 but they are old2 the fifty-first is the first ,renaissance capital of the upper arcade3 the first new lion's head with smooth ears1 cut in the time of ,foscari1 is over the fiftieth capital2 and that capital1 with its shaft1 stands on the apex of the eighth arch from the ,sea1 on the ,piazzetta side1 of which one spandril is masonry of the fourteenth and the other of the fifteenth century4 ,,cxxx4 ,the reader who is not able to examine the building on the spot may be surprised at the definiteness with which the point of junction is ascertainable2 but a glance at the lowest range of leaves in the opposite ,plate 7,,xx47 will enable him to judge of the grounds on which the above statement is made4 ,fig4 #ab is a cluster of leaves from the capital of the ,four ,winds2 early work of the finest time4 ,fig4 #ac is a leaf from the great ,renaissance capital at the ,judgment angle1 worked in imitation of the older leafage4 ,fig4 #ad is a leaf from one of the ,renaissance capitals of the upper arcade1 which are all worked in the natural manner of the period4 ,it will be seen that it requires no great ingenuity to distinguish between such design as that of fig4 #ab and that of fig4 #ad4 ,illustration3 ,plate ,,xx4 ,,leafage ,,of ,,the ,,venetian ,,capitals4 ,,cxxxi4 ,it is very possible that the reader may at first like fig4 #ad the best4 ,i shall endeavor1 in the next chapter1 to show why he should not2 but it must also be noted1 that fig4 #ab has lost1 and fig4 #ad gained1 both largely1 under the hands of the engraver4 ,all the bluntness and coarseness of feeling in the workmanship of fig4 #ad have disappeared on this small scale1 and all the subtle refinements in the broad masses of fig4 #ab have vanished4 ,they could not1 indeed1 be rendered in line engraving1 unless by the hand of ,albert ,durer2 and ,i have1 therefore1 abandoned1 for the present1 all endeavor to represent any more important mass of the early sculpture of the ,ducal ,palace3 but ,i trust that1 in a few months1 casts of many portions will be within the reach of the inhabitants of ,london1 and that they will be able to judge for themselves of their perfect1 pure1 unlabored naturalism2 the freshness1 elasticity1 and softness of their leafage1 united with the most noble symmetry and severe reserve1--no running to waste1 no loose or experimental lines1 no extravagance1 and no weakness4 ,their design is always sternly architectural2 there is none of the wildness or redundance of natural vegetation1 but there is all the strength1 freedom1 and tossing flow of the breathing leaves1 and all the undulation of their surfaces1 rippled1 as they grew1 by the summer winds1 as the sands are by the sea4 ,,cxxxii4 ,this early sculpture of the ,ducal ,palace1 then1 represents the state of ,gothic work in ,venice at its central and proudest period1 i4e4 circa #acej4 ,after this time1 all is decline1--of what nature and by what steps1 we shall inquire in the ensuing chapter2 for as this investigation1 though still referring to ,gothic architecture1 introduces us to the first symptoms of the ,renaissance influence1 ,i have considered it as properly belonging to the third division of our subject4 ,,cxxxiii4 ,and as1 under the shadow of these nodding leaves1 we bid farewell to the great ,gothic spirit1 here also we may cease our examination of the details of the ,ducal ,palace2 for above its upper arcade there are only the four traceried windows1#afj and one or two of the third order on the ,rio ,faade1 which can be depended upon as exhibiting the original workmanship of the older palace4 ,i examined the capitals of the four other windows on the faade1 and of those on the ,piazzetta1 one by one1 with great care1 and ,i found them all to be of far inferior workmanship to those which retain their traceries3 ,i believe the stone framework of these windows must have been so cracked and injured by the flames of the great fire1 as to render it necessary to replace it by new traceries2 and that the present mouldings and capitals are base imitations of the original ones4 ,the traceries were at first1 however1 restored in their complete form1 as the holes for the bolts which fastened the bases of their shafts are still to be seen in the window-sills1 as well as the marks of the inner mouldings on the soffits4 ,how much the stone facing of the faade1 the parapets1 and the shafts and niches of the angles1 retain of their original masonry1 it is also impossible to determine2 but there is nothing in the workmanship of any of them demanding especial notice2 still less in the large central windows on each faade1 which are entirely of ,renaissance execution4 ,all that is admirable in these portions of the building is the disposition of their various parts and masses1 which is without doubt the same as in the original fabric1 and calculated1 when seen from a distance1 to produce the same impression4 ,,cxxxiv4 ,not so in the interior4 ,all vestige of the earlier modes of decoration was here1 of course1 destroyed by the fires2 and the severe and religious work of ,guariento and ,bellini has been replaced by the wildness of ,tintoret and the luxury of ,veronese4 ,but in this case1 though widely different in temper1 the art of the renewal was at least intellectually as great as that which had perished3 and though the halls of the ,ducal ,palace are no more representative of the character of the men by whom it was built1 each of them is still a colossal casket of priceless treasure2 a treasure whose safety has till now depended on its being despised1 and which at this moment1 and as ,i write1 is piece by piece being destroyed for ever4 ,,cxxxv4 ,the reader will forgive my quitting our more immediate subject1 in order briefly to explain the causes and the nature of this destruction2 for the matter is simply the most important of all that can be brought under our present consideration respecting the state of art in ,europe4 ,the fact is1 that the greater number of persons or societies throughout ,europe1 whom wealth1 or chance1 or inheritance has put in possession of valuable pictures1 do not know a good picture from a bad one1#afa and have no idea in what the value of a picture really consists4 ,the reputation of certain works is raised1 partly by accident1 partly by the just testimony of artists1 partly by the various and generally bad taste of the public 7no picture1 that ,i know of1 has ever1 in modern times1 attained popularity1 in the full sense of the term1 without having some exceedingly bad qualities mingled with its good ones71 and when this reputation has once been completely established1 it little matters to what state the picture may be reduced3 few minds are so completely devoid of imagination as to be unable to invest it with the beauties which they have heard attributed to it4 ,,cxxxvi4 ,this being so1 the pictures that are most valued are for the most part those by masters of established renown1 which are highly or neatly finished1 and of a size small enough to admit of their being placed in galleries or saloons1 so as to be made subjects of ostentation1 and to be easily seen by a crowd4 ,for the support of the fame and value of such pictures1 little more is necessary than that they should be kept bright1 partly by cleaning1 which is incipient destruction1 and partly by what is called restoring1 that is1 painting over1 which is of course total destruction4 ,nearly all the gallery pictures in modern ,europe have been more or less destroyed by one or other of these operations1 generally exactly in proportion to the estimation in which they are held2 and as1 originally1 the smaller and more highly finished works of any great master are usually his worst1 the contents of many of our most celebrated galleries are by this time1 in reality1 of very small value indeed4 ,,cxxxvii4 ,on the other hand1 the most precious works of any noble painter are usually those which have been done quickly1 and in the heat of the first thought1 on a large scale1 for places where there was little likelihood of their being well seen1 or for patrons from whom there was little prospect of rich remuneration4 ,in general1 the best things are done in this way1 or else in the enthusiasm and pride of accomplishing some great purpose1 such as painting a cathedral or a camposanto from one end to the other1 especially when the time has been short1 and circumstances disadvantageous4 ,,cxxxviii4 ,works thus executed are of course despised1 on account of their quantity1 as well as their frequent slightness1 in the places where they exist2 and they are too large to be portable1 and too vast and comprehensive to be read on the spot1 in the hasty temper of the present age4 ,they are1 therefore1 almost universally neglected1 whitewashed by custodes1 shot at by soldiers1 suffered to drop from the walls piecemeal in powder and rags by society in general2 but1 which is an advantage more than counterbalancing all this evil1 they are not often restored4 ,what is left of them1 however fragmentary1 however ruinous1 however obscured and defiled1 is almost always the real thing2 there are no fresh readings3 and therefore the greatest treasures of art which ,europe at this moment possesses are pieces of old plaster on ruinous brick walls1 where the lizards burrow and bask1 and which few other living creatures ever approach2 and torn sheets of dim canvas1 in waste corners of churches2 and mildewed stains1 in the shape of human figures1 on the walls of dark chambers1 which now and then an exploring traveller causes to be unlocked by their tottering custode1 looks hastily round1 and retreats from in a weary satisfaction at his accomplished duty4 ,,cxxxix4 ,many of the pictures on the ceilings and walls of the ,ducal ,palace1 by ,paul ,veronese and ,tintoret1 have been more or less reduced1 by neglect1 to this condition4 ,unfortunately they are not altogether without reputation1 and their state has drawn the attention of the ,venetian authorities and academicians4 ,it constantly happens1 that public bodies who will not pay five pounds to preserve a picture1 will pay fifty to repaint it3#afb and when ,i was at ,venice in #ahdf1 there were two remedial operations carrying on1 at one and the same time1 in the two buildings which contain the pictures of greatest value in the city 7as pieces of color1 of greatest value in the world71 curiously illustrative of this peculiarity in human nature4 ,buckets were set on the floor of the ,scuola di ,san ,rocco1 in every shower1 to catch the rain which came through the pictures of ,tintoret on the ceiling2 while in the ,ducal ,palace1 those of ,paul ,veronese were themselves laid on the floor to be repainted2 and ,i was myself present at the re-illumination of the breast of a white horse1 with a brush1 at the end of a stick five feet long1 luxuriously dipped in a common house-painter's vessel of paint4 ,this was1 of course1 a large picture4 ,the process has already been continued in an equally destructive1 though somewhat more delicate manner1 over the whole of the humbler canvases on the ceiling of the ,sala del ,gran ,consiglio2 and ,i heard it threatened when ,i was last in ,venice 7#ahea-b7 to the ,paradise at its extremity1 which is yet in tolerable condition1--the largest work of ,tintoret1 and the most wonderful piece of pure1 manly1 and masterly oil-painting in the world4 ,,cxl4 ,i leave these facts to the consideration of the ,european patrons of art4 ,twenty years hence they will be acknowledged and regretted2 at present1 ,i am well aware1 that it is of little use to bring them forward1 except only to explain the present impossibility of stating what pictures are1 and what were1 in the interior of the ,ducal ,palace4 ,i can only say1 that in the winter of #ahea1 the ,paradise of ,tintoret was still comparatively uninjured1 and that the ,camera di ,collegio1 and its antechamber1 and the ,sala de' ,pregadi were full of pictures by ,veronese and ,tintoret1 that made their walls as precious as so many kingdoms2 so precious indeed1 and so full of majesty1 that sometimes when walking at evening on the ,lido1 whence the great chain of the ,alps1 crested with silver clouds1 might be seen rising above the front of the ,ducal ,palace1 ,i used to feel as much awe in gazing on the building as on the hills1 and could believe that ,god had done a greater work in breathing into the narrowness of dust the mighty spirits by whom its haughty walls had been raised1 and its burning legends written1 than in lifting the rocks of granite higher than the clouds of heaven1 and veiling them with their various mantle of purple flower and shadowy pine4 ,,footnotes #ii ,the reader will find it convenient to note the following editions of the printed books which have been principally consulted in the following inquiry4 ,the numbers of the manuscripts referred to in the ,marcian ,library are given with the quotations4 ,sansovino4 ,venetia ,descritta4 #dto1 ,venice1 #affc4 ,sansovino4 ,lettera intorno al ,palazzo ,ducale4 #hvo1 ,venice1 #ahbi4 ,temanza4 ,antica ,pianta di ,venezia1 with text4 ,venice1 #aghj4 ,cadorin4 ,pareri di ,,xv4 ,architetti4 #hvo1 ,venice1 #ahch4 ,filiasi4 ,memorie storiche4 #hvo1 ,padua1 #ahaa4 ,bettio4 ,lettera discorsiva del ,palazzo ,ducale4 #hvo1 ,venice1 #ahcg4 ,selvatico4 ,architettura di ,venezia4 #hvo1 ,venice1 #ahdg4 #ajj ,the year commonly given is #haj1 as in the ,savina ,chronicle 7,cod4 ,marcianus71 p4 #ac4 ,del #haj fece principiar el pallazzo ,ducal nel luogo ditto ,bruolo in confin di ,s4 ,mois1 et fece riedificar la isola di ,eraclia4 ,the ,sagornin ,chronicle gives #hjd2 and ,filiasi1 vol4 vi4 chap4 #a1 corrects this date to #hac4 #aja ,ampli la citt1 fornilla di casamenti1 e per il culto d' ,iddio e l' amministrazione della giustizia eresse la cappella di ,s4 ,marco1 e il palazzo di sua residenza4--,pareri1 p4 #abj4 ,observe1 that piety towards ,god1 and justice towards man1 have been at least the nominal purposes of every act and institution of ancient ,venice4 ,compare also ,temanza1 p4 #bd4 ,quello che abbiamo di certo si che il suddetto ,agnello lo incominci da fondamenti1 e cost pure la cappella ducale di ,s4 ,marco4 #ajb ,what ,i call the ,sea1 was called the ,grand ,canal by the ,venetians1 as well as the great water street of the city2 but ,i prefer calling it the ,sea1 in order to distinguish between that street and the broad water in front of the ,ducal ,palace1 which1 interrupted only by the island of ,san ,giorgio1 stretches for many miles to the south1 and for more than two to the boundary of the ,lido4 ,it was the deeper channel1 just in front of the ,ducal ,palace1 continuing the line of the great water street itself which the ,venetians spoke of as the ,grand ,canal4 ,the words of ,sansovino are3 ,fu cominciato dove si vede1 vicino al ponte della paglia1 et rispondente sul canal grande4 ,filiasi says simply3 ,the palace was built where it now is4 ,il palazio fu fatto dove ora pure esiste4--,vol4 iii4 chap4 #bg4 ,the ,savina ,chronicle1 already quoted1 says3 ,in the place called the ,bruolo 7or ,broglio71 that is to say1 on the ,piazzetta4 #ajc ,omni decoritate illius perlustrata4--,sagornino1 quoted by ,cadorin and ,temanza4 #ajd ,there is an interesting account of this revolt in ,monaci1 p4 #fh4 ,some historians speak of the palace as having been destroyed entirely2 but1 that it did not even need important restorations1 appears from ,sagornino's expression1 quoted by ,cadorin and ,temanza4 ,speaking of the ,doge ,participazio1 he says3 ,qui ,palatii hucusque manentis fuerit fabricator4 ,the reparations of the palace are usually attributed to the successor of ,candiano1 ,pietro ,orseolo ,i42 but the legend1 under the picture of that ,doge in the ,council ,chamber1 speaks only of his rebuilding ,st4 ,mark's1 and performing many miracles4 ,his whole mind seems to have been occupied with ecclesiastical affairs2 and his piety was finally manifested in a way somewhat startling to the state1 by his absconding with a ,french priest to ,st4 ,michael's1 in ,gascony1 and there becoming a monk4 ,what repairs1 therefore1 were necessary to the ,ducal ,palace1 were left to be undertaken by his son1 ,orseolo ,,ii41 above named4 #aje ,quam non modo marmoreo1 verum aureo compsit ornamento4--,temanza1 p4 #be4 #ajf ,l'anno #aajf1 uscito fuoco d'una casa privata1 arse parte del palazzo4--,sansovino4 ,of the beneficial effect of these fires1 vide ,cadorin1 p4 #aba1 #abc4 #ajg ,urbis situm1 dificiorum decorem1 et regiminis quitatem multipliciter commendavit4--,cronaca ,dandolo1 quoted by ,cadorin4 #ajh ,non solamente rinov il palazzo1 ma lo aggrand per ogni verso4--,sansovino4 ,zanotto quotes the ,altinat ,chronicle for account of these repairs4 #aji ,el palazzo che anco di mezzo se vede vecchio1 per ,m4 ,sebastian ,ziani fu fatto compir1 come el se vede4--,chronicle of ,pietro ,dolfino1 ,cod4 ,ven4 p4 #dg4 ,this ,chronicle is spoken of by ,sansovino as molto particolare e distinta4--,sansovino1 ,venezia descritta1 p4 #eic4--;,it terminates in the year #adbb4 #aaj ,see ,vol4 ,i4 ,appendix #c4 #aaa ,vide ,sansovino's enumeration of those who flourished in the reign of ,gradenigo1 p4 #efd4 #aab ,sansovino1 #cbd1 #a4 #aac #acja fu presa parte di fare una sala grande per la riduzione del gran consiglio1 e fu fatta quella che ora si chiama dello ,scrutinio4--,cronaca ,sivos1 quoted by ,cadorin4 ,there is another most interesting entry in the ,chronicle of ,magno1 relating to this event2 but the passage is so ill written1 that ,i am not sure if ,i have deciphered it correctly3--,del #acja fu preso de fabrichar la sala fo ruina e fu fata 7fatta7 quella se adoperava a far el pregadi e fu adopera per far el ,gran ,consegio fin #adbc1 che fu anni #abb4 ,this last sentence1 which is of great importance1 is luckily unmistakable3--,the room was used for the meetings of the ,great ,council until #adbc1 that is to say1 for #abb years4--,cod4 ,ven4 tom4 i4 p4 #abf4 ,the ,chronicle extends from #abec to #aded4 #aad ,vi era appresso la ,cancellaria1 e la ,gheba o ,gabbia1 chiamata poi ,torresella4--,p4 #cbd4 ,a small square tower is seen above the ,vine angle in the view of ,venice dated #aejj1 and attributed to ,albert ,durer4 ,it appears about #be feet square1 and is very probably the ,torresella in question4 #aae ,vide ,bettio1 ,lettera1 p4 #bc4 #aaf ,bettio1 ,lettera1 p4 #bj4 ,those who wrote without having seen them described them as covered with lead2 and those who have seen them know that1 between their flat timber roofs and the sloping leaden roof of the palace1 the interval is five metres where it is least1 and nine where it is greatest4 #aag ,questo ,dose anche fese far la porta granda che se al intrar del ,pallazzo1 in su la qual vi e la sua statua che sta in zenocchioni con lo confalon in man1 davanti li pie de lo ,lion ,s4 ,marco1--,savin ,chronicle1 ,cod4 ,ven4 p4 #abj4 #aah ,these documents ,i have not examined myself1 being satisfied of the accuracy of ,cadorin1 from whom ,i take the passages quoted4 #aai ,libras tres1 soldos #ae grossorum4--,cadorin1 #ahi1 #a4 #abj ,cod4 ,ven41 ,no4 ,,cxli4 p4 #cfe4 #aba ,sansovino is more explicit than usual in his reference to this decree3 ,for it having appeared that the place 7the first ,council ,chamber7 was not capacious enough1 the saloon on the ,grand ,canal was ordered4 ,per cio parendo che il luogo non fosse capace1 fu ordinata la ,sala sul ,canal ,grande4--,p4 #cbd4 #abb ,cadorin1 #ahe1 #b4 ,the decree of #acdb is falsely given as of #acde by the ,sivos ,chronicle1 and by ,magno2 while ,sanuto gives the decree to its right year1 #acdb1 but speaks of the ,council ,chamber as only begun in #acde4 #abc ,calendario4 ,see ,appendix #a1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #abd ,il primo che vi colorisse fu ,guariento1 il quale l' anno #acfe vi fece il ,paradiso in testa della sala4--,sansovino4 #abe ,l' an poi #adjj vi fece il cielo compartita a quadretti d'oro1 ripieni di stelle1 ch' era la insegna del ,doge ,steno4--,sansovino1 lib4 ,,viii4 #abf ,in questi tempi si messe in oro il cielo della sala del ,gran ,consiglio et si fece il pergolo del finestra grande chi guarda sul canale1 adornato l'uno e l'altro di stelle1 ch' erano l'insegne del ,doge4--,sansovino1 lib4 ,,xiii4 ,compare also ,pareri1 p4 #abi4 #abg ,baseggio 7,pareri1 p4 #abg7 is called the ,proto of the ,new ,palace4 ,farther notes will be found in ,appendix #a1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #abh ,cronaca ,sanudo1 ,no4 ,,cxxv4 in the ,marcian ,library1 p4 #efh4 #abi ,tomaso ,mocenigo4 #acj ,vide notes in ,appendix4 #aca ,on the #dth of ,april1 #adbc1 according to the copy of the ,zancarol ,chronicle in the ,marcian ,library1 but previously1 according to the ,caroldo ,chronicle1 which makes ,foscari enter the ,senate as ,doge on the #crd of ,april4 #acb ,nella quale 7the ,sala del ,gran ,consiglio7 non si fece ,gran ,consiglio salvo nell' anno #adbc1 alli #c ,april1 et fu il primo giorno che il ,duce ,foscari venisse in ,gran ,consiglio dopo la sua creatione4--,copy in ,marcian ,library1 p4 #cfe4 #acc ,e a di #bc ,april 7#adbc1 by the context7 sequente fo fatto ,gran ,conseio in la salla nuovo dovi avanti non esta pi fatto ,gran ,conseio si che el primo ,gran ,conseio dopo la sua 7,foscari's7 creation1 fo fatto in la salla nuova1 nel qual conseio fu el ,marchese di ,mantoa1 c41 p4 #dbf4 #acd ,compare ,appendix #a1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 #ace ,tutte queste fatture si compirono sotto il dogado del ,foscari1 nel #adda4--,pareri1 p4 #aca4 #acf ,this identification has been accomplished1 and ,i think conclusively1 by my friend ,mr4 ,rawdon ,brown1 who has devoted all the leisure which1 during the last twenty years1 his manifold offices of kindness to almost every ,english visitant of ,venice have left him1 in discovering and translating the passages of the ,venetian records which bear upon ,english history and literature4 ,i shall have occasion to take advantage hereafter of a portion of his labors1 which ,i trust will shortly be made public4 #acg ,see the last chapter of the third volume4 #ach ,,in ,,xri--,,noie ,,amen ,,annincarnationis ,,mcccxvii4 ,,inesetbr4 ,in the name of ,christ1 ,amen1 in the year of the incarnation1 #acag1 in the month of ,september1 c4 #aci ,oh1 venerable ,raphael1 make thou the gulf calm1 we beseech thee4 ,the peculiar office of the angel ,raphael is1 in general1 according to tradition1 the restraining the harmful influences of evil spirits4 ,sir ,charles ,eastlake told me1 that sometimes in this office he is represented bearing the gall of the fish caught by ,tobit2 and reminded me of the peculiar superstitions of the ,venetians respecting the raising of storms by fiends1 as embodied in the well-known tale of the ,fisherman and ,st4 ,mark's ring4 #adj ,in the original1 the succession of words is evidently suggested partly by similarity of sound2 and the sentence is made weighty by an alliteration which is quite lost in our translation2 but the very allowance of influence to these minor considerations is a proof how little any metaphysical order or system was considered necessary in the statement4 #ada ,it occurs in a prayer for the influence of the ,holy ,spirit1 ,that ,he may keep my soul1 and direct my way2 compose my bearing1 and form my thoughts in holiness2 may ,he govern my body1 and protect my mind2 strengthen me in action1 approve my vows1 and accomplish my desires2 cause me to lead an honest and honorable life1 and give me good hope1 charity and chastity1 humility and patience3 may ,he govern the ,five ,senses of my body1 c4 ,the following prayer is also very characteristic of this period4 ,it opens with a beautiful address to ,christ upon the cross2 then proceeds thus3 ,grant to us1 ,o ,lord1 we beseech thee1 this day and ever1 the use of penitence1 of abstinence1 of humility1 and chastity2 and grant to us light1 judgment1 understanding1 and true knowledge1 even to the end4 ,one thing ,i note in comparing old prayers with modern ones1 that however quaint1 or however erring1 they are always tenfold more condensed1 comprehensive1 and to their purpose1 whatever that may be4 ,there is no dilution in them1 no vain or monotonous phraseology4 ,they ask for what is desired plainly and earnestly1 and never could be shortened by a syllable4 ,the following series of ejaculations are deep in spirituality1 and curiously to our present purpose in the philological quaintness of being built upon prepositions3-- ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 sancta cruce tua apud me sis1 ut me defendas4 ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 pro veneranda cruce tua post me sis1 ut me gubernes4 ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 pro benedicta cruce tua intra me sis1 ut me reficeas4 ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 pro benedicta cruce tua circa me sis1 ut me conserves4 ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 pro gloriosa cruce tua ante me sis1 ut me deduces4 ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 pro laudanda cruce tua super me sis1 ut benedicas4 ,domine ,jesu ,christe1 pro magnifica cruce tua in me sis1 ut me ad regnum tuum perducas1 per ,d4 ,n4 ,j4 ,c4 ,amen4 #adb ,this arrangement of the cardinal virtues is said to have been first made by ,archytas4 ,see ,d',ancarville's illustration of the three figures of ,prudence1 ,fortitude1 and ,charity1 in ,selvatico's ,cappellina degli ,scrovegni1 ,padua1 #ahcf4 #adc ,or ,penitence3 but ,i rather think this is understood only in ,compunctio cordis4 #add ,the transformation of a symbol into a reality1 observe1 as in transubstantiation1 is as much an abandonment of symbolism as the forgetfulness of symbolic meaning altogether4 #ade ,on the window of ,new ,college1 ,oxford4 #adf ,uniting the three ideas expressed by the ,greek philosophers under the terms ,greek3 phronei1 ,greek3 sophia1 and ,greek3 epistm2 and part of the idea of ,greek3 sphroson4 #adg ,isa4 lxiv4 #e4 #adh ,i can hardly think it necessary to point out to the reader the association between sacred cheerfulness and solemn thought1 or to explain any appearance of contradiction between passages in which 7as above in ,chap4 ,v47 ,i have had to oppose sacred pensiveness to unholy mirth1 and those in which ,i have to oppose sacred cheerfulness to unholy sorrow4 #adi ,desse1 seat #aej ,usually called ,charity3 but this virtue in its full sense is one of the attendant spirits by the ,throne2 the ,kindness here meant is ,charity with a special object2 or ,friendship and ,kindness1 as opposed to ,envy1 which has always1 in like manner1 a special object4 ,hence the love of ,orestes and ,pylades is given as an instance of the virtue of ,friendship2 and the ,virgin's1 ,they have no wine1 at ,cana1 of general kindness and sympathy with others' pleasure4 #aea ,the ,faerie ,queen1 like ,dante's ,paradise1 is only half estimated1 because few persons take the pains to think out its meaning4 ,i have put a brief analysis of the first book in ,appendix #b1 ,vol4 ,,iii42 which may perhaps induce the reader to follow out the subject for himself4 ,no time devoted to profane literature will be better rewarded than that spent earnestly on ,spenser4 #aeb ,inscribed1 ,i believe1 ,pietas1 meaning general reverence and godly fear4 #aec ,i have given one of these capitals carefully already in my folio work1 and hope to give most of the others in due time4 ,it was of no use to draw them here1 as the scale would have been too small to allow me to show the expression of the figures4 #aed ,lord ,lindsay1 vol4 ii4 p4 #bbf4 #aee ,lord ,lindsay1 vol4 ii4 letter ,,iv4 #aef ,selvatico states that these are intended to be representative of eight nations1 ,latins1 ,tartars1 ,turks1 ,hungarians1 ,greeks1 ,goths1 ,egyptians1 and ,persians4 ,either the inscriptions are now defaced or ,i have carelessly omitted to note them4 #aeg ,the comma in these inscriptions stands for a small cuneiform mark1 ,i believe of contraction1 and the small s for a zigzag mark of the same kind4 ,the dots or periods are similarly marked1 on the stone4 #aeh ,can they have mistaken the ,,isipione of the fifth side for the word ,isidore8 #aei ,compare the speech of the ,doge ,mocenigo1 above1--first justice1 and then the interests of the state3 and see ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,chap4 ,,ii4 ,,lix4 #afj ,some further details respecting these portions1 as well as some necessary confirmations of my statements of dates1 are1 however1 given in ,appendix #a1 ,vol4 ,,iii4 ,i feared wearying the general reader by introducing them into the text4 #afa ,many persons1 capable of quickly sympathizing with any excellence1 when once pointed out to them1 easily deceive themselves into the supposition that they are judges of art4 ,there is only one real test of such power of judgment4 ,can they1 at a glance1 discover a good picture obscured by the filth1 and confused among the rubbish1 of the pawnbroker's or dealer's garret8 #afb ,this is easily explained4 ,there are1 of course1 in every place and at all periods1 bad painters who conscientiously believe that they can improve every picture they touch2 and these men are generally1 in their presumption1 the most influential over the innocence1 whether of monarchs or municipalities4 ,the carpenter and slater have little influence in recommending the repairs of the roof2 but the bad painter has great influence1 as well as interest1 in recommending those of the picture4 ,,appendix4 #a4 ,,the ,,gondolier',s ,,cry4 ,most persons are now well acquainted with the general aspect of the ,venetian gondola1 but few have taken the pains to understand the cries of warning uttered by its boatmen1 although those cries are peculiarly characteristic1 and very impressive to a stranger1 and have been even very sweetly introduced in poetry by ,mr4 ,monckton ,milnes4 ,it may perhaps be interesting to the traveller in ,venice to know the general method of management of the boat to which he owes so many happy hours4 ,a gondola is in general rowed only by one man1 standing at the stern2 those of the upper classes having two or more boatmen1 for greater speed and magnificence4 ,in order to raise the oar sufficiently1 it rests1 not on the side of the boat1 but on a piece of crooked timber like the branch of a tree1 rising about a foot from the boat's side1 and called a frcola4 ,the frcola is of different forms1 according to the size and uses of the boat1 and it is always somewhat complicated in its parts and curvature1 allowing the oar various kinds of rests and catches on both its sides1 but perfectly free play in all cases2 as the management of the boat depends on the gondolier's being able in an instant to place his oar in any position4 ,the frcola is set on the right-hand side of the boat1 some six feet from the stern3 the gondolier stands on a little flat platform or deck behind it1 and throws nearly the entire weight of his body upon the forward stroke4 ,the effect of this stroke would be naturally to turn the boat's head round to the left1 as well as to send it forward2 but this tendency is corrected by keeping the blade of the oar under the water on the return stroke1 and raising it gradually1 as a full spoon is raised out of any liquid1 so that the blade emerges from the water only an instant before it again plunges4 ,a downward and lateral pressure upon the frcola is thus obtained1 which entirely counteracts the tendency given by the forward stroke2 and the effort1 after a little practice1 becomes hardly conscious1 though1 as it adds some labor to the back stroke1 rowing a gondola at speed is hard and breathless work1 though it appears easy and graceful to the looker-on4 ,if then the gondola is to be turned to the left1 the forward impulse is given without the return stroke2 if it is to be turned to the right1 the plunged oar is brought forcibly up to the surface2 in either case a single strong stroke being enough to turn the light and flat-bottomed boat4 ,but as it has no keel1 when the turn is made sharply1 as out of one canal into another very narrow one1 the impetus of the boat in its former direction gives it an enormous lee-way1 and it drifts laterally up against the wall of the canal1 and that so forcibly1 that if it has turned at speed1 no gondolier can arrest the motion merely by strength or rapidity of stroke of oar2 but it is checked by a strong thrust of the foot against the wall itself1 the head of the boat being of course turned for the moment almost completely round to the opposite wall1 and greater exertion made to give it1 as quickly as possible1 impulse in the new direction4 ,the boat being thus guided1 the cry ,premi is the order from one gondolier to another that he should press or thrust forward his oar1 without the back stroke1 so as to send the boat's head round to the left2 and the cry ,stali is the order that he should give the return or upward stroke which sends the boat's head round to the right4 ,hence1 if two gondoliers meet under any circumstances which render it a matter of question on which side they should pass each other1 the gondolier who has at the moment the least power over his boat1 cries to the other1 ,premi1 if he wishes the boats to pass with their right-hand sides to each other1 and ,stali1 if with their left4 ,now1 in turning a corner1 there is of course risk of collision between boats coming from opposite sides1 and warning is always clearly and loudly given on approaching an angle of the canals4 ,it is of course presumed that the boat which gives the warning will be nearer the turn than the one which receives and answers it2 and therefore will not have so much time to check itself or alter its course4 ,hence the advantage of the turn1 that is1 the outside1 which allows the fullest swing and greatest room for lee-way1 is always yielded to the boat which gives warning4 ,therefore1 if the warning boat is going to turn to the right1 as it is to have the outside position1 it will keep its own right-hand side to the boat which it meets1 and the cry of warning is therefore ,premi1 twice given2 first as soon as it can be heard round the angle1 prolonged and loud1 with the accent on the e1 and another strongly accented e added1 a kind of question1 ,prmi-1 followed at the instant of turning1 with ,ah ,prem1 with the accent sharp on the final i4 ,if1 on the other hand1 the warning boat is going to turn to the left1 it will pass with its left-hand side to the one it meets2 and the warning cry is1 ,stli-1 ,ah ,stal4 ,hence the confused idea in the mind of the traveller that ,stali means to the left1 and ,premi to the right2 while they mean1 in reality1 the direct reverse2 the ,stali1 for instance1 being the order to the unseen gondolier who may be behind the corner1 coming from the left-hand side1 that he should hold as much as possible to his own right2 this being the only safe order for him1 whether he is going to turn the corner himself1 or to go straight on2 for as the warning gondola will always swing right across the canal in turning1 a collision with it is only to be avoided by keeping well within it1 and close up to the corner which it turns4 ,there are several other cries necessary in the management of the gondola1 but less frequently1 so that the reader will hardly care for their interpretation2 except only the sciar1 which is the order to the opposite gondolier to stop the boat as suddenly as possible by slipping his oar in front of the frcola4 ,the cry is never heard except when the boatmen have got into some unexpected position1 involving a risk of collision2 but the action is seen constantly1 when the gondola is rowed by two or more men 7for if performed by the single gondolier it only swings the boat's head sharp round to the right71 in bringing up at a landing-place1 especially when there is any intent of display1 the boat being first urged to its full speed and then stopped with as much foam about the oar-blades as possible1 the effect being much like that of stopping a horse at speed by pulling him on his haunches4 #b4 ,,our ,,lady ,,of ,,salvation4 ,santa ,maria della ,salute1 ,our ,lady of ,health1 or of ,safety1 would be a more literal translation1 yet not perhaps fully expressing the force of the ,italian word in this case4 ,the church was built between #afcj and #afhj1 in acknowledgment of the cessation of the plague2--of course to the ,virgin1 to whom the modern ,italian has recourse in all his principal distresses1 and who receives his gratitude for all principal deliverances4 ,the hasty traveller is usually enthusiastic in his admiration of this building2 but there is a notable lesson to be derived from it1 which is not often read4 ,on the opposite side of the broad canal of the ,giudecca is a small church1 celebrated among ,renaissance architects as of ,palladian design1 but which would hardly attract the notice of the general observer1 unless on account of the pictures by ,john ,bellini which it contains1 in order to see which the traveller may perhaps remember having been taken across the ,giudecca to the ,church of the ,redentore4 ,but he ought carefully to compare these two buildings with each other1 the one built to the ,virgin1 the other to the ,redeemer 7also a votive offering after the cessation of the plague of #aegf72 the one1 the most conspicuous church in ,venice1 its dome1 the principal one by which she is first discerned1 rising out of the distant sea3 the other1 small and contemptible1 on a suburban island1 and only becoming an object of interest because it contains three small pictures6 ,for in the relative magnitude and conspicuousness of these two buildings1 we have an accurate index of the relative importance of the ideas of the ,madonna and of ,christ1 in the modern ,italian mind4 ,some further account of this church is given in the final ,index to the ,venetian buildings at the close of the third ,volume4 #c4 ,,tides ,,of ,,venice1 ,,and ,,measures ,,at ,,torcello4 ,the lowest and highest tides take place in ,venice at different periods1 the lowest during the winter1 the highest in the summer and autumn4 ,during the period of the highest tides1 the city is exceedingly beautiful1 especially if1 as is not unfrequently the case1 the water rises high enough partially to flood ,st4 ,mark's ,place4 ,nothing can be more lovely or fantastic than the scene1 when the ,campanile and the ,golden ,church are reflected in the calm water1 and the lighter gondolas floating under the very porches of the faade4 ,on the other hand1 a winter residence in ,venice is rendered peculiarly disagreeable by the low tides1 which sometimes leave the smaller canals entirely dry1 and large banks of mud beneath the houses1 along the borders of even the ,grand ,canal4 ,the difference between the levels of the highest and lowest tides ,i saw in ,venice was #f ft4 #c in4 ,the average fall rise is from two to three feet4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the measures of ,torcello were intended for ,appendix #d2 but having by a misprint referred the reader to ,appendix #c1 ,i give them here4 ,the entire breadth of the church within the walls is #gj feet2 of which the square bases of the pillars1 #c feet on each side1 occupy #f feet2 and the nave1 from base to base1 measures #ca ft4 #a in42 the aisles from base to wall1 #af feet odd inches1 not accurately ascertainable on account of the modern wainscot fittings4 ,the intervals between the bases of the pillars are #h feet each1 increasing towards the altar to #h ft4 #c in41 in order to allow for a corresponding diminution in the diameter of the bases from #c ft4 to #b ft4 #aa in4 or #b ft4 #aj4 in4 ,this subtle diminution of the bases is in order to prevent the eye from feeling the greater narrowness of the shafts in that part of the nave1 their average circumference being #f ft4 #aj in42 and one1 the second on the north side1 reaching #g feet1 while those at the upper end of the nave vary from #f ft4 #h in4 to #f ft4 #d in4 ,it is probable that this diminution in the more distant pillars adds slightly to the perspective effect of length in the body of the church1 as it is seen from the great entrance3 but whether this was the intention or not1 the delicate adaptation of this diminished base to the diminished shaft is a piece of fastidiousness in proportion which ,i rejoice in having detected2 and this the more1 because the rude contours of the bases themselves would little induce the spectator to anticipate any such refinement4 #d4 ,,date ,,of ,,the ,,duomo ,,of ,,torcello4 ,the first flight to the lagoons for shelter was caused by the invasion of ,attila in the fifth century1 so that in endeavoring to throw back the thought of the reader to the former solitude of the islands1 ,i spoke of them as they must have appeared #acjj years ago4 ,altinum1 however1 was not finally destroyed till the ,lombard invasion in #fda1 when the episcopal seat was removed to ,torcello1 and the inhabitants of the mainland city1 giving up all hope of returning to their former homes1 built their ,duomo there4 ,it is a disputed point among ,venetian antiquarians1 whether the present church be that which was built in the seventh century1 partially restored in #ajjh1 or whether the words of ,sagornino1 ecclesiam jam vetustate consumptam recreare1 justify them in assuming an entire rebuilding of the fabric4 ,i quite agree with the ,marchese ,selvatico1 in believing the present church to be the earlier building1 variously strengthened1 refitted1 and modified by subsequent care2 but1 in all its main features1 preserving its original aspect1 except1 perhaps1 in the case of the pulpit and chancel screen1 which1 if the ,chevalier ,bunsen's conclusions respecting early pulpits in the ,roman basilicas be correct 7see the next article of this ,appendix71 may possibly have been placed in their present position in the tenth century1 and the fragmentary character of the workmanship of the latter1 noticed in ,x4 and ,,xi41 would in that case have been the result of innovation1 rather than of haste4 ,the question1 however1 whether they are of the seventh or eleventh century1 does not in the least affect our conclusions1 drawn from the design of these portions of the church1 respecting pulpits in general4 #e4 ,,modern ,,pulpits4 ,there is no character of an ordinary modern ,english church which appears to me more to be regretted than the peculiar pompousness of the furniture of the pulpits1 contrasted1 as it generally is1 with great meagreness and absence of color in the other portions of the church2 a pompousness1 besides1 altogether without grace or meaning1 and dependent merely on certain applications of upholstery2 which1 curiously enough1 are always in worse taste than even those of our drawing-rooms4 ,nor do ,i understand how our congregations can endure the aspect of the wooden sounding-board attached only by one point of its circumference to an upright pillar behind the preacher2 and looking as if the weight of its enormous leverage must infallibly1 before the sermon is concluded1 tear it from its support1 and bring it down upon the preacher's head4 ,these errors in taste and feeling will however1 ,i believe1 be gradually amended as more ,gothic churches are built2 but the question of the position of the pulpit presents a more disputable ground of discussion4 ,i can perfectly sympathise with the feeling of those who wish the eastern extremity of the church to form a kind of holy place for the communion table2 nor have ,i often received a more painful impression than on seeing the preacher at the ,scotch church in ,george ,street1 ,portman ,square1 taking possession of a perfect apse2 and occupying therein1 during the course of the service1 very nearly the same position which the figure of ,christ does in that of the ,cathedral of ,pisa4 ,but ,i nevertheless believe that the ,scotch congregation are perfectly right1 and have restored the real arrangement of the primitive churches4 ,the ,chevalier ,bunsen informed me very lately1 that1 in all the early basilicas he has examined1 the lateral pulpits are of more recent date than the rest of the building2 that he knows of none placed in the position which they now occupy1 both in the basilicas and ,gothic cathedrals1 before the ninth century2 and that there can be no doubt that the bishop always preached or exhorted1 in the primitive times1 from his throne in the centre of the apse1 the altar being always set at the centre of the church1 in the crossing of the transepts4 ,his ,excellency found by experiment in ,santa ,maria ,maggiore1 the largest of the ,roman basilicas1 that the voice could be heard more plainly from the centre of the apse than from any other spot in the whole church2 and1 if this be so1 it will be another very important reason for the adoption of the ,romanesque 7or ,norman7 architecture in our churches1 rather than of the ,gothic4 ,the reader will find some farther notice of this question in the concluding chapter of the third volume4 ,before leaving this subject1 however1 ,i must be permitted to say one word to those members of the ,scotch ,church who are severe in their requirement of the nominal or apparent extemporization of all addresses delivered from the pulpit4 ,whether they do right in giving those among their ministers who cannot preach extempore1 the additional and useless labor of committing their sermons to memory1 may be a disputed question2 but it can hardly be so1 that the now not unfrequent habit of making a desk of the ,bible1 and reading the sermon stealthily1 by slipping the sheets of it between the sacred leaves1 so that the preacher consults his own notes on pretence of consulting the ,scriptures1 is a very unseemly consequence of their over-strictness4 #f4 ,,apse ,,of ,,murano4 ,the following passage succeeded in the original text to ,,xv4 of ,chap4 ,,iii4 ,finding it not likely to interest the general reader1 ,i have placed it here1 as it contains matter of some interest to architects4 ,on this plinth1 thus carefully studied in relations of magnitude1 the shafts are set at the angles1 as close to each other as possible1 as seen in the ground-plan4 ,these shafts are founded on pure ,roman tradition2 their bases have no spurs1 and the shaft itself is tapered in a bold curve1 according to the classical model4 ,but1 in the adjustment of the bases to each other1 we have a most curious instance of the first beginning of the ,gothic principle of aggregation of shafts4 ,they have a singularly archaic and simple profile1 composed of a single cavetto and roll1 which are circular1 on a square plinth4 ,now when these bases are brought close to each other at the angles of the apse1 their natural position would be as in fig4 #c1 ,plate ,i41 leaving an awkward fissure between the two square plinths4 ,this offended the architect's eye2 so he cut part of each of the bases away1 and fitted them close to each other1 as in fig4 #e1 ,plate ,i41 which is their actual position4 ,as before this piece of rough harmonization the circular mouldings reached the sides of the squares1 they were necessarily cut partly away in the course of the adjustment1 and run into each other as in the figure1 so as to give us one of the first ,venetian instances of the continuous ,gothic base4 ,the shafts measure on the average #b ft4 #h in4 in circumference1 at the base1 tapering so much that under the lowest fillet of their necks they measure only #b feet round1 though their height is only #e ft4 #f in41 losing thus eight inches of girth in five feet and a half of height4 ,they are delicately curved all the way up2 and are #b in4 apart from each other where they are nearest1 and about #e in4 at the necks of their capitals4 #g4 ,,early ,,venetian ,,dress4 ,sansovino's account of the changes in the dress of the ,venetians is brief1 masterly1 and full of interest2 one or two passages are deserving of careful notice1 especially the introductory sentence4 ,for the ,venetians from their first origin1 having made it their aim to be peaceful and religious1 and to keep on an equality with one another1 that equality might induce stability and concord 7as disparity produces confusion and ruin71 made their dress a matter of conscience1 4442 and our ancestors1 observant lovers of religion1 upon which all their acts were founded1 and desiring that their young men should direct themselves to virtue1 the true soul of all human action1 and above all to peace1 invented a dress conformable to their gravity1 such1 that in clothing themselves with it1 they might clothe themselves also with modesty and honor4 ,and because their mind was bent upon giving no offence to any one1 and living quietly as far as might be permitted them1 it seemed good to them to show to every one1 even by external signs1 this their endeavor1 by wearing a long dress1 which was in no wise convenient for persons of a quick temperament1 or of eager and fierce spirits4 ,respecting the color of the women's dress1 it is noticeable that blue is called ,venetian color by ,cassiodorus1 translated turchino by ,filiasi1 vol4 v4 chap4 iv4 ,it was a very pale blue1 as the place in which the word occurs is the description by ,cassiodorus of the darkness which came over the sun's disk at the time of the ,belisarian wars and desolation of the ,gothic kingdom4 #h4 ,,inscriptions ,,at ,,murano4 ,there are two other inscriptions on the border of the concha2 but these1 being written on the soffit of the face arch1 which1 as before noticed1 is supported by the last two shafts of the chancel1 could not be read by the congregation1 and only with difficulty by those immediately underneath them4 ,one of them is in black1 the other in red letters4 ,the first3 ,mutat quod sumsit1 quod sollat crimina tandit ,et quod sumpsit1 vultus vestisq4 refulsit4 ,the second3 ,discipuli testes1 prophete certa videntes ,et cernunt purum1 sibi credunt ese futurum4 ,i have found no notice of any of these inscriptions in any ,italian account of the church of ,murano1 and have seldom seen even ,monkish ,latin less intelligible4 ,there is no mistake in the letters1 which are all large and clear2 but wrong letters may have been introduced by ignorant restorers1 as has often happened in ,st4 ,mark's4 #i4 ,,shafts ,,of ,,st4 ,,mark4 ,the principal pillars which carry the nave and transepts1 fourteen in number1 are of white alabaster veined with grey and amber2 each of a single block1 #ae ft4 high1 and #f ft4 #b in4 round at the base4 ,i in vain endeavored to ascertain their probable value4 ,every sculptor whom ,i questioned on this subject told me there were no such pieces of alabaster in the market1 and that they were to be considered as without price4 ,on the faade of the church alone are two great ranges of shafts1 seventy-two in the lower range1 and seventy-nine in the upper2 all of porphyry1 alabaster1 and verd-antique or fine marble2 the lower about #i ft41 the upper about #g ft4 high1 and of various circumferences1 from #d ft4 #f in4 to #b ft4 round4 ,there are now so many published engravings1 and1 far better than engravings1 calotypes1 of this faade1 that ,i may point out one or two circumstances for the reader's consideration without giving any plate of it here4 ,and first1 we ought to note the relations of the shafts and wall1 the latter being first sheeted with alabaster1 and then the pillars set within two or three inches of it1 forming such a grove of golden marble that the porches open before us as we enter the church like glades in a deep forest4 ,the reader may perhaps at first question the propriety of placing the wall so close behind the shafts that the latter have nearly as little work to do as the statues in a ,gothic porch2 but the philosophy of this arrangement is briefly deducible from the principles stated in the text4 ,the builder had at his disposal shafts of a certain size only1 not fit to sustain the whole weight of the fabric above4 ,he therefore turns just as much of the wall veil into shaft as he has strength of marble at his disposal1 and leaves the rest in its massive form4 ,and that there may be no dishonesty in this1 nor any appearance in the shafts of doing more work than is really allotted to them1 many are left visibly with half their capitals projecting beyond the archivolts they sustain1 showing that the wall is very slightly dependent on their co-operation1 and that many of them are little more than mere bonds or connecting rods between the foundation and cornices4 ,if any architect ventures to blame such an arrangement1 let him look at our much vaunted early ,english piers in ,salisbury ,cathedral or ,westminster ,abbey1 where the small satellitic shafts are introduced in the same gratuitous manner1 but with far less excuse or reason3 for those small shafts have nothing but their delicacy and purely theoretical connection with the archivolt mouldings to recommend them2 but the ,st4 ,mark's shafts have an intrinsic beauty and value of the highest order1 and the object of the whole system of architecture1 as above stated1 is in great part to set forth the beauty and value of the shaft itself4 ,now1 not only is this accomplished by withdrawing it occasionally from servile work1 but the position here given to it1 within three or four inches of a wall from which it nevertheless stands perfectly clear all the way up1 is exactly that which must best display its color and quality4 ,when there is much vacant space left behind a pillar1 the shade against which it is relieved is comparatively indefinite1 the eye passes by the shaft1 and penetrates into the vacancy4 ,but when a broad surface of wall is brought near the shaft1 its own shadow is1 in almost every effect of sunshine1 so sharp and dark as to throw out its colors with the highest possible brilliancy2 if there be no sunshine1 the wall veil is subdued and varied by the most subtle gradations of delicate half shadow1 hardly less advantageous to the shaft which it relieves4 ,and1 as far as regards pure effect in open air 7all artifice of excessive darkness or mystery being excluded71 ,i do not know anything whatsoever in the whole compass of the ,european architecture ,i have seen1 which can for a moment be compared with the quaint shade and delicate color1 like that of ,rembrandt and ,paul ,veronese united1 which the sun brings out1 as his rays move from porch to porch along the ,st4 ,mark's faade4 ,and1 as if to prove that this was indeed the builder's intention1 and that he did not leave his shafts idle merely because he did not know how to set them to work safely1 there are two pieces of masonry at the extremities of the faade1 which are just as remarkable for their frank trust in the bearing power of the shafts as the rest are for their want of confidence in them4 ,but1 before we come to these1 we must say a word or two respecting the second point named above1 the superior position of the shafts4 ,it was assuredly not in the builder's power1 even had he been so inclined1 to obtain shafts high enough to sustain the whole external gallery1 as it is sustained in the nave1 on one arcade4 ,he had1 as above noticed1 a supply of shafts of every sort and size1 from which he chose the largest for his nave shafts2 the smallest were set aside for windows1 jambs1 balustrades1 supports of pulpits1 niches1 and such other services1 every conceivable size occurring in different portions of the building2 and the middle-sized shafts were sorted into two classes1 of which on the average one was about two-thirds the length of the other1 and out of these the two stories of the faade and sides of the church are composed1 the smaller shafts of course uppermost1 and more numerous than the lower1 according to the ordinary laws of superimposition adopted by all the ,romanesque builders1 and observed also in a kind of architecture quite as beautiful as any we are likely to invent1 that of forest trees4 ,nothing is more singular than the way in which this kind of superimposition 7the only right one in the case of shafts7 will shock a professed architect4 ,he has been accustomed to see1 in the ,renaissance designs1 shaft put on the top of shaft1 three or four times over1 and he thinks this quite right2 but the moment he is shown a properly subdivided superimposition1 in which the upper shafts diminish in size and multiply in number1 so that the lower pillars would balance them safely even without cement1 he exclaims that it is against law1 as if he had never seen a tree in his life4 ,not that the idea of the ,byzantine superimposition was taken from trees1 any more than that of ,gothic arches4 ,both are simple compliances with laws of nature1 and1 therefore1 approximations to the forms of nature4 ,there is1 however1 one very essential difference between tree structure and the shaft structure in question2 namely1 that the marble branches1 having no vital connexion with the stem1 must be provided with a firm tablet or second foundation whereon to stand4 ,this intermediate plinth or tablet runs along the whole faade at one level1 is about eighteen inches thick1 and left with little decoration as being meant for hard service4 ,the small porticos1 already spoken of as the most graceful pieces of composition with which ,i am acquainted1 are sustained on detached clusters of four or five columns1 forming the continuation of those of the upper series1 and each of these clusters is balanced on one grand detached shaft2 as much trust being thus placed in the pillars here1 as is withdrawn from them elsewhere4 ,the northern portico has only one detached pillar at its outer angle1 which sustains three shafts and a square pilaster2 of these shafts the one at the outer angle of the group is the thickest 7so as to balance the pilaster on the inner angle71 measuring #c ft4 #b in4 round1 while the others measure only #b ft4 #aj in4 and #b ft4 #aa in42 and in order to make this increase of diameter1 and the importance of the shaft1 more manifest to the eye1 the old builders made the shaft shorter as well as thicker1 increasing the depth both of its capital and the base1 with what is to the thoughtless spectator ridiculous incongruity1 and to the observant one a most beautiful expression of constructive genius4 ,nor is this all4 ,observe3 the whole strength of this angle depends on accuracy of poise1 not on breadth or strength of foundation4 ,it is a balanced1 not a propped structure3 if the balance fails1 it must fall instantly2 if the balance is maintained1 no matter how the lower shaft is fastened into the ground1 all will be safe4 ,and to mark this more definitely1 the great lower shaft has a different base from all the others of the faade1 remarkably high in proportion to the shaft1 on a circular instead of a square plinth1 and without spurs1 while all the other bases have spurs without exception4 ,glance back at what is said of the spurs at p4 #gi of the first volume1 and reflect that all expression of grasp in the foot of the pillar is here useless1 and to be replaced by one of balance merely1 and you will feel what the old builder wanted to say to us1 and how much he desired us to follow him with our understanding as he laid stone above stone4 ,and this purpose of his is hinted to us once more1 even by the position of this base in the ground plan of the foundation of the portico2 for1 though itself circular1 it sustains a hexagonal plinth set obliquely to the walls of the church1 as if expressly to mark to us that it did not matter how the base was set1 so only that the weights were justly disposed above it4 #aj4 ,,proper ,,sense ,,of ,,the ,,word ,,idolatry4 ,i do not intend1 in thus applying the word ,idolatry to certain ceremonies of ,romanist worship1 to admit the propriety of the ordinary ,protestant manner of regarding those ceremonies as distinctively idolatrous1 and as separating the ,romanist from the ,protestant ,church by a gulf across which we must not look to our fellow-,christians but with utter reprobation and disdain4 ,the ,church of ,rome does indeed distinctively violate the second commandment2 but the true force and weight of the sin of idolatry are in the violation of the first1 of which we are all of us guilty1 in probably a very equal degree1 considered only as members of this or that communion1 and not as ,christians or unbelievers4 ,idolatry is1 both literally and verily1 not the mere bowing down before sculptures1 but the serving or becoming the slave of any images or imaginations which stand between us and ,god1 and it is otherwise expressed in ,scripture as walking after the ,imagination of our own hearts4 ,and observe also that while1 at least on one occasion1 we find in the ,bible an indulgence granted to the mere external and literal violation of the second commandment1 ,when ,i bow myself in the house of ,rimmon1 the ,lord pardon thy servant in this thing1 we find no indulgence in any instance1 or in the slightest degree1 granted to covetousness1 which is idolatry 7,col4 iii4 #e2 no casual association of terms1 observe1 but again energetically repeated in ,ephesians1 v4 #e1 ,no covetous man1 who is an idolater1 hath any inheritance in the kingdom of ,christ72 nor any to that denial of ,god1 idolatry in one of its most subtle forms1 following so often on the possession of that wealth against which ,agur prayed so earnestly1 ,give me neither poverty nor riches1 lest ,i be full and deny thee1 and say1 ',who is the ,lord8' ,and in this sense1 which of us is not an idolater8 ,which of us has the right1 in the fulness of that better knowledge1 in spite of which he nevertheless is not yet separated from the service of this world1 to speak scornfully of any of his brethren1 because1 in a guiltless ignorance1 they have been accustomed to bow their knees before a statue8 ,which of us shall say that there may not be a spiritual worship in their apparent idolatry1 or that there is not a spiritual idolatry in our own apparent worship8 ,for indeed it is utterly impossible for one man to judge of the feeling with which another bows down before an image4 ,from that pure reverence in which ,sir ,thomas ,brown wrote1 ,i can dispense with my hat at the sight of a cross1 but not with a thought of my ,redeemer1 to the worst superstition of the most ignorant ,romanist1 there is an infinite series of subtle transitions2 and the point where simple reverence and the use of the image merely to render conception more vivid1 and feeling more intense1 change into definite idolatry by the attribution of ,power to the image itself1 is so difficultly determinable that we cannot be too cautions in asserting that such a change has actually taken place in the case of any individual4 ,even when it is definite and certain1 we shall oftener find it the consequence of dulness of intellect than of real alienation of heart from ,god2 and ,i have no manner of doubt that half of the poor and untaught ,christians who are this day lying prostrate before crucifixes1 ,bambinos1 and ,volto ,santos1 are finding more acceptance with ,god1 than many ,protestants who idolize nothing but their own opinions or their own interests4 ,i believe that those who have worshipped the thorns of ,christ's crown will be found at last to have been holier and wiser than those who worship the thorns of the world's service1 and that to adore the nails of the cross is a less sin than to adore the hammer of the workman4 ,but1 on the other hand1 though the idolatry of the lower orders in the ,romish ,church may thus be frequently excusable1 the ordinary subterfuges by which it is defended are not so4 ,it may be extenuated1 but cannot be denied2 and the attribution of power to the image1#afc in which it consists1 is not merely a form of popular feeling1 but a tenet of priestly instruction1 and may be proved1 over and over again1 from any book of the ,romish ,church services4 ,take for instance the following prayer1 which occurs continually at the close of the service of the ,holy ,cross3 ,saincte vraye ,croye aoure1 ,qui du corps ,dieu fu aourne ,et de sa sueur arrouse1 ,et de son sanc enlumine1 ,par ta vertu1 par ta puissance1 ,defent mon corps de meschance1 ,et montroie moy par ton playsir ,que vray confes puisse mourir4 ,oh holy1 true1 and golden ,cross1 which wast adorned with ,god's body1 and watered with ,his sweat1 and illuminated with ,his blood1 by thy healing virtue and thy power1 defend my body from mischance2 and by thy good pleasure1 let me make a good confession when ,i die4 ,there can be no possible defence imagined for the mere terms in which this prayer and other such are couched3 yet it is always to be remembered1 that in many cases they are rather poetical effusions than serious prayers2 the utterances of imaginative enthusiasm1 rather than of reasonable conviction2 and as such1 they are rather to be condemned as illusory and fictitious1 than as idolatrous1 nor even as such1 condemned altogether1 for strong love and faith are often the roots of them and the errors of affection are better than the accuracies of apathy4 ,but the unhappy results1 among all religious sects1 of the habit of allowing imaginative and poetical belief to take the place of deliberate1 resolute1 and prosaic belief1 have been fully and admirably traced by the author of the ,natural ,history of ,enthusiasm4 #aa4 ,,situations ,,of ,,byzantine ,,palaces4 7#a47 ,the ,terraced ,house4 ,the most conspicuous pile in the midmost reach of the ,grand ,canal is the ,casa ,grimani1 now the ,post-,office4 ,letting his boat lie by the steps of this great palace1 the traveller will see1 on the other side of the canal1 a building with a small terrace in front of it1 and a little court with a door to the water1 beside the terrace4 ,half of the house is visibly modern1 and there is a great seam1 like the edge of a scar1 between it and the ancient remnant1 in which the circular bands of the ,byzantine arches will be instantly recognized4 ,this building not having1 as far as ,i know1 any name except that of its present proprietor1 ,i shall in future distinguish it simply as the ,terraced ,house4 7#b47 ,casa ,businello4 ,to the left of this edifice 7looking from the ,post-,office7 there is a modern palace1 on the other side of which the ,byzantine mouldings appear again in the first and second stories of a house lately restored4 ,it might be thought that the shafts and arches had been raised yesterday1 the modern walls having been deftly adjusted to them1 and all appearance of antiquity1 together with the ornamentation and proportions of the fabric1 having been entirely destroyed4 ,i cannot1 however1 speak with unmixed sorrow of these changes1 since1 without his being implicated in the shame of them1 they fitted this palace to become the residence of the kindest friend ,i had in ,venice4 ,it is generally known as the ,casa ,businello4 7#c47 ,the ,braided ,house4 ,leaving the steps of the ,casa ,grimani1 and turning the gondola away from the ,rialto1 we will pass the ,casa ,businello1 and the three houses which succeed it on the right4 ,the fourth is another restored palace1 white and conspicuous1 but retaining of its ancient structure only the five windows in its second story1 and an ornamental moulding above them which appears to be ancient1 though it is inaccessible without scaffolding1 and ,i cannot therefore answer for it4 ,but the five central windows are very valuable2 and as their capitals differ from most that we find 7except in ,st4 ,mark's71 in their plaited or braided border and basket-worked sides1 ,i shall call this house1 in future1 the ,braided ,house4#afd 7#d47 ,the ,madonnetta ,house4 ,on the other side of this palace is the ,traghetto called ,della ,madonnetta2 and beyond this ,traghetto1 still facing the ,grand ,canal1 a small palace1 of which the front shows mere vestiges of arcades1 the old shafts only being visible1 with obscure circular seams in the modern plaster which covers the arches4 ,the side of it is a curious agglomeration of pointed and round windows in every possible position1 and of nearly every date from the twelfth to the eighteenth century4 ,it is the smallest of the buildings we have to examine1 but by no means the least interesting3 ,i shall call it1 from the name of its ,traghetto1 the ,madonnetta ,house4 7#e47 ,the ,rio ,foscari ,house4 ,we must now descend the ,grand ,canal as far as the ,palazzo ,foscari1 and enter the narrower canal1 called the ,rio di ,ca' ,foscari1 at the side of that palace4 ,almost immediately after passing the great gateway of the ,foscari courtyard1 we shall see on our left1 in the ruinous and time-stricken walls which totter over the water1 the white curve of a circular arch covered with sculpture1 and fragments of the bases of small pillars1 entangled among festoons of the ,erba della ,madonna4 ,i have already1 in the folio plates which accompanied the first volume1 partly illustrated this building4 ,in what references ,i have to make to it here1 ,i shall speak of it as the ,rio ,foscari ,house4 7#f47 ,casa ,farsetti4 ,we have now to reascend the ,grand ,canal1 and approach the ,rialto4 ,as soon as we have passed the ,casa ,grimani1 the traveller will recognize1 on his right1 two rich and extensive masses of building1 which form important objects in almost every picturesque view of the noble bridge4 ,of these1 the first1 that farthest from the ,rialto1 retains great part of its ancient materials in a dislocated form4 ,it has been entirely modernized in its upper stories1 but the ground floor and first floor have nearly all their original shafts and capitals1 only they have been shifted hither and thither to give room for the introduction of various small apartments1 and present1 in consequence1 marvellous anomalies in proportion4 ,this building is known in ,venice as the ,casa ,farsetti4 7#g47 ,casa ,loredan4 ,the one next to it1 though not conspicuous1 and often passed with neglect1 will1 ,i believe1 be felt at last1 by all who examine it carefully1 to be the most beautiful palace in the whole extent of the ,grand ,canal4 ,it has been restored often1 once in the ,gothic1 once in the ,renaissance times1--some writers say1 even rebuilt2 but1 if so1 rebuilt in its old form4 ,the ,gothic additions harmonize exquisitely with its ,byzantine work1 and it is easy1 as we examine its lovely central arcade1 to forget the ,renaissance additions which encumber it above4 ,it is known as the ,casa ,loredan4 99 99 99 99 99 ,the eighth palace is the ,fondaco de' ,turchi1 described in the text4 ,a ninth existed1 more interesting apparently than any of these1 near the ,church of ,san ,mois1 but it was thrown down in the course of improvements a few years ago4 ,a woodcut of it is given in ,m4 ,lazari's ,guide4 #ab4 ,,modern ,,painting ,,on ,,glass4 ,of all the various principles of art which1 in modern days1 we have defied or forgotten1 none are more indisputable1 and few of more practical importance than this1 which ,i shall have occasion again and again to allege in support of many future deductions3 ,all art1 working with given materials1 must propose to itself the objects which1 with those materials1 are most perfectly attainable2 and becomes illegitimate and debased if it propose to itself any other objects1 better attainable with other materials4 ,thus1 great slenderness1 lightness1 or intricacy of structure1--as in ramifications of trees1 detached folds of drapery1 or wreaths of hair1--is easily and perfectly expressible in metal-work or in painting1 but only with great difficulty and imperfectly expressible in sculpture4 ,all sculpture1 therefore1 which professes as its chief end the expression of such characters1 is debased2 and if the suggestion of them be accidentally required of it1 that suggestion is only to be given to an extent compatible with perfect ease of execution in the given material1--not to the utmost possible extent4 ,for instance3 some of the most delightful drawings of our own water-color painter1 ,hunt1 have been of birds' nests2 of which1 in painting1 it is perfectly possible to represent the intricate fibrous or mossy structure2 therefore1 the effort is a legitimate one1 and the art is well employed4 ,but to carve a bird's nest out of marble would be physically impossible1 and to reach any approximate expression of its structure would require prolonged and intolerable labor4 ,therefore1 all sculpture which set itself to carving birds' nests as an end1 or which1 if a bird's nest were required of it1 carved it to the utmost possible point of realization1 would be debased4 ,nothing but the general form1 and as much of the fibrous structure as could be with perfect ease represented1 ought to be attempted at all4 ,but more than this4 ,the workman has not done his duty1 and is not working on safe principles1 unless he even so far honors the materials with which he is working as to set himself to bring out their beauty1 and to recommend and exalt1 as far as lie can1 their peculiar qualities4 ,if he is working in marble1 he should insist upon and exhibit its transparency and solidity2 if in iron1 its strength and tenacity2 if in gold1 its ductility2 and he will invariably find the material grateful1 and that his work is all the nobler for being eulogistic of the substance of which it is made4 ,but of all the arts1 the working of glass is that in which we ought to keep these principles most vigorously in mind4 ,for we owe it so much1 and the possession of it is so great a blessing1 that all our work in it should be completely and forcibly expressive of the peculiar characters which give it so vast a value4 ,these are two1 namely1 its ,,ductility when heated1 and ,,transparency when cold1 both nearly perfect4 ,in its employment for vessels1 we ought always to exhibit its ductility1 and in its employment for windows1 its transparency4 ,all work in glass is bad which does not1 with loud voice1 proclaim one or other of these great qualities4 ,consequently1 all cut glass is barbarous3 for the cutting conceals its ductility1 and confuses it with crystal4 ,also1 all very neat1 finished1 and perfect form in glass is barbarous3 for this fails in proclaiming another of its great virtues2 namely1 the ease with which its light substance can be moulded or blown into any form1 so long as perfect accuracy be not required4 ,in metal1 which1 even when heated enough to be thoroughly malleable1 retains yet such weight and consistency as render it susceptible of the finest handling and retention of the most delicate form1 great precision of workmanship is admissible2 but in glass1 which when once softened must be blown or moulded1 not hammered1 and which is liable to lose1 by contraction or subsidence1 the fineness of the forms given to it1 no delicate outlines are to be attempted1 but only such fantastic and fickle grace as the mind of the workman can conceive and execute on the instant4 ,the more wild1 extravagant1 and grotesque in their gracefulness the forms are1 the better4 ,no material is so adapted for giving full play to the imagination1 but it must not be wrought with refinement or painfulness1 still less with costliness4 ,for as in gratitude we are to proclaim its virtues1 so in all honesty we are to confess its imperfections2 and while we triumphantly set forth its transparency1 we are also frankly to admit its fragility1 and therefore not to waste much time upon it1 nor put any real art into it when intended for daily use4 ,no workman ought ever to spend more than an hour in the making of any glass vessel4 ,next in the case of windows1 the points which we have to insist upon are1 the transparency of the glass and its susceptibility of the most brilliant colors2 and therefore the attempt to turn painted windows into pretty pictures is one of the most gross and ridiculous barbarisms of this pre-eminently barbarous century4 ,it originated1 ,i suppose1 with the ,germans1 who seem for the present distinguished among ,european nations by the loss of the sense of color2 but it appears of late to have considerable chance of establishing itself in ,england3 and it is a two-edged error1 striking in two directions2 first at the healthy appreciation of painting1 and then at the healthy appreciation of glass4 ,color1 ground with oil1 and laid on a solid opaque ground1 furnishes to the human hand the most exquisite means of expression which the human sight and invention can find or require4 ,by its two opposite qualities1 each naturally and easily attainable1 of transparency in shadow and opacity in light1 it complies with the conditions of nature2 and by its perfect governableness it permits the utmost possible fulness and subtlety in the harmonies of color1 as well as the utmost perfection in the drawing4 ,glass1 considered as a material for a picture1 is exactly as bad as oil paint is good4 ,it sets out by reversing the conditions of nature1 by making the lights transparent and the shadows opaque2 and the ungovernableness of its color 7changing in the furnace71 and its violence 7being always on a high key1 because produced by actual light71 render it so disadvantageous in every way1 that the result of working in it for pictorial effect would infallibly be the destruction of all the appreciation of the noble qualities of pictorial color4 ,in the second place1 this modern barbarism destroys the true appreciation of the qualities of glass4 ,it denies1 and endeavors as far as possible to conceal1 the transparency1 which is not only its great virtue in a merely utilitarian point of view1 but its great spiritual character2 the character by which in church architecture it becomes most touchingly impressive1 as typical of the entrances of the ,holy ,spirit into the heart of man2 a typical expression rendered specific and intense by the purity and brilliancy of its sevenfold hues2#afe and therefore in endeavoring to turn the window into a picture1 we at once lose the sanctity and power of the noble material1 and employ it to an end which is utterly impossible it should ever worthily attain4 ,the true perfection of a painted window is to be serene1 intense1 brilliant1 like flaming jewellery2 full of easily legible and quaint subjects1 and exquisitely subtle1 yet simple1 in its harmonies4 ,in a word1 this perfection has been consummated in the designs1 never to be surpassed1 if ever again to be approached by human art1 of the ,french windows of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries4 ,,footnotes #afc ,i do not like to hear ,protestants speaking with gross and uncharitable contempt even of the worship of relics4 ,elisha once trusted his own staff too far2 nor can ,i see any reasonable ground for the scorn1 or the unkind rebuke1 of those who have been taught from their youth upwards that to hope even in the hem of the garment may sometimes be better than to spend the living on physicians4 #afd ,casa ,tiepolo 787 in ,lazari's ,guide4 #afe ,i do not think that there is anything more necessary to the progress of ,european art in the present day than the complete understanding of this sanctity of ,color4 ,i had much pleasure in finding it1 the other day1 fully understood and thus sweetly expressed in a little volume of poems by a ,miss ,maynard3 ,for still in every land1 though to ,thy name ,arose no temple1--still in every age1 ,though heedless man had quite forgot ,thy praise1 ,we praised ,thee2 and at rise and set of sun ,did we assemble duly1 and intone ,a choral hymn that all the lands might hear4 ,in heaven1 on earth1 and in the deep we praised ,thee1 ,singly1 or mingled in sweet sisterhood4 ,but now1 acknowledged ministrants1 we come1 ,co-worshippers with man in this ,thy house1 ,we1 the ,seven ,daughters of the ,light1 to praise ,thee1 ,light of ,light6 ,thee1 ,god of very ,god6 ,a ,dream of ,fair ,colors4 ,these poems seem to be otherwise remarkable for a very unobtrusive and pure religious feeling in subjects connected with art4 99 99 99 99 99 ,,corrections ,,made ,,to ,,the ,,original ,,text4 ,page #eh3 'endeavoring to imagine its aspect' corrected from 'aspeet4' ,page #hd3 'inadmissible altogether1 or objectionable' from 'objecjectionable4' ,page #agi3 'the surface sculpture will' corrected from 'wiil4' ,page #ahh3 'central class will always' originally 'aways4' ,page #aia3 'with the rest of the spirit' originally 'spirt4' ,page #bjd3 'the heart of that languor' originally 'langour4' ,page #bfc3 'merely noting this one assured fact' changed from 'nothing4' ,footnote #acj3 ,appendi corrected to ,appendix4