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EXAMPLES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE, 
 
 AND 
 
 Jlefriefo d the Morltus Srrbitcthtral Ijprjogrcss. 
 
 “ ART IS MORE GODLIKE THAN SCIENCE J SCIENCE DISCOVERS, ART CREATES.” 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 DARTON AND HODGE, 58, HOLBORN HILL. 
 
 1862. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 SAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET, 
 COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Address. 1 
 
 Architecture, Studies of.2, 42, 69 
 
 „ What is 1 .6, 78 
 
 „ do Mouldings improve 1 .23 
 
 „ Exhibition of.26, 59 
 
 „ .Esthetic Principles of.47 
 
 „ of Palestine.52 
 
 „ Thoughts on the Future of.57 
 
 „ Ornament of.58 
 
 „ Designs in Exhibition.121 
 
 „ Relation to Civilization.139 
 
 „ of India ..142 
 
 „ Ecclesiastical, of Georgia and Armenia . . 153 
 
 „ Hints on Design in.183 
 
 Architects, Modern.. . 74 
 
 Arch, Origin of.58 
 
 Angelo, Michael.161 
 
 B. 
 
 Bridges of Europe.113, 134, 172 
 
 „ Moveable. 180 
 
 Beton, Blocks of.141 
 
 Barrow, Orcadian .151 
 
 C. 
 
 Cross, Meaning of.91 
 
 Churches, Destruction of.177 
 
 E. 
 
 Exhibition, International. 10 
 
 „ Decoration of.18 
 
 G. 
 
 Gothic Art, Signification of.27 
 
 „ Architecture, Rise of.65 
 
 H. 
 
 Houses, Combustible.153 
 
 I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Intelligence, General .... 31, 64, 95, 127, 159, 190 
 
 Inigo Jones .129 
 
 M. 
 
 Monuments—Monoliths.7 
 
 „ Pyramids.39 
 
 Marble „ 102 
 
 Modern Work, Spirit of.151 
 
 P. 
 
 Patents connected with Building .... 31, 62, 126, 157 
 
 „ Office.157 
 
 Pugin.74 
 
 Petroleum.148 
 
 Progress, signs of.151 
 
 R. 
 
 Ruskin, John.33 
 
 Reviews :—Mausolus.28 
 
 Letter to Lord Derby.61 
 
 Cottages, Architecture of.61 
 
 Carthage.92 
 
 Ephesus.123 
 
 Thebes and its Tombs.123 
 
 Palgrave.125 
 
 Engineering and Architectural Progress.184 
 
 S. 
 
 Street Architecture in Brick.48 
 
 Streets of London.20 
 
 Smirke’s Lectures. 23, 90, 121 
 
 Soldiers’ Homes.'.82, 109 
 
 Sculpture, International Exhibition.88, 119 
 
 T. 
 
 Thoughts, Practical and Philosophic ... 61, 94, 125, 159 
 
 Timber, Colonial.79, 105 
 
 Trees, Age of. 149 
 
 W. 
 
 Wren, Sir Christopher.79 
 
LIST OF PUBLIC AND PRIVATE BUILDINGS 
 
 Illustrate in Cjrroittalitljograpjjg. 
 
 1. FRONTISPIECE .—INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION OF 1862, EAST FRONT, EXHIBITION-ROAD. 
 
 2. INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION OE 1862, SOUTH OR PRINCIPAL ENTRANCE. 
 
 CONSTRUCTIVE DETAILS. 
 
 DETAILS OF INTERIOR DECORATION. 
 
 3. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 4. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 5. WESTMINSTER MEMORIAL COLUMN. 
 
 6. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 7. HOUSE AND SHOP IN NEW BOND STREET. 
 
 8. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 9. VESTRY HALL, ST. JAMES’S, WESTMINSTER. 
 
 10. DITTO, DITTO, . 
 
 11. HOUSE AND SHOP, UNION STREET, BIRMINGHAM. 
 
 12. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 13. OCEAN INSURANCE COMPANY’S OFFICE, OLD BROAD STREET. 
 
 14. DITTO, DITTO ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 15. HOUSE AND SHOP, SOUTH AUDREY STREET. 
 
 16. TERMINUS HOTEL, LONDON BRIDGE, UPPER PART OF SOUTH-EAST ANGLE, AND INTERIOR 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 17. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 18. DRINKING FOUNTAIN, VICTORIA PARK. 
 
 19. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 20. NEW BUILDINGS IN CHEAPSIDE (Nos. 107 & 108). 
 
 21. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 22. TERMINUS HOTEL, LONDON BRIDGE, GENERAL VIEW. 
 
 23. DITTO, DITTO . 
 
 24. VIEW OF CROSBY HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE. 
 
 DECORATIONS OF COFFEE-ROOM. 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
 COFFEE-ROOM. 
 
 25. 
 
 DITTO, 
 
 DITTO 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DETAILS. 
 
EXAMPLES 
 
 OF 
 
 LONDON AND PROVINCIAL ARCHITECTURE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 OUE ADDRESS. 
 
 HE Victorian Age has its trophies 
 everywhere. Art, science, literature, 
 and war have all contributed to sur¬ 
 round the beneficent reign of our 
 beloved Queen with a halo of glory,. 
 The spirit of our times is thoughtful, 
 truthful. Science is proceeding on 
 experiment and actual observation; 
 art is striving to be natural, and life earnest. In this 
 regenerating national life Architecture participates; and 
 although we have not much to record in the shape of 
 progress, still, noble efforts are being made in every direc¬ 
 tion, and the most prejudiced must admit that those 
 efforts have in many instances been crowned with; 
 success. 
 
 The author, the artist, and the architect are the three 
 preachers to whom alone posterity has the privilege to 
 listen. It is theirs to embody the thoughts, to catch the 
 forms of beauty, and give perpetuity to the wisdom, taste, 
 and skill of their age, and bequeath its culture as a pre¬ 
 cious legacy to future generations. They live not for one, 
 but for all ages; and their achievements are the stars 
 which guide humanity in its progress over life’s troubled 
 ocean. 
 
 Literature was the pioneer in the revival of culture 
 which took place in Europe during the fifteenth century. 
 It brought the moderns face to face with the great civi¬ 
 lized nations of antiquity, and poets sung, and philo¬ 
 sophers taught in tongues to them unknown, and in coun¬ 
 tries which they had never heard of. The body of ancient 
 culture was dead, but its spirit lived again, and in 
 Shakspeare and Bacon rivalled Homer and Plato. 
 
 Art also was awakened, but it has not as yet, except in 
 painting, obtained any great results. Our sculptors of 
 to-day are far below those of the age of Pericles. 
 
 Architecture was the last of the arts to yield to the flood 
 of barbarism which swept over Europe during the Dark 
 Ages. It struggled nobly with the debased current, and 
 1 
 
 showed a bright light where nearly all else was dark. 
 Allying itself with the piety and devotion of the times, 
 it gave expression to the devout aspirations of the Church, 
 and has left its monuments everywhere, in cathedrals and 
 churches whose ruins still excite our admiration from 
 their surprising grandeur and traces of exquisite beauty. 
 
 JFifty years ago, architecture seems to have reached 
 its lowest point of degradation. ! It was its darkest 
 hour, and mud-spectres alone were visible when the dawn 
 appeared, and that again happened which had previously 
 taken place in literature. The voice of the fathers was 
 again heard; they had spoken in every land, but no man 
 seemed to regard them. Century after century had West¬ 
 minster Abbey repeated its lessons of beauty, and with 
 that noble pile before them, men had been content to 
 build and admire the Law Courts opposite to it. 
 
 The first impulse was, naturally enough, to copy the great 
 masters; this was a necessary, and, upon the whole, a 
 good thing. Original thinkers, however, soon made their 
 appearance in the field; and they, if they did little else, 
 taught us to look for better things. To them nature was in¬ 
 finite and art inexhaustible. Hence they saw no reason why 
 they also should not be original. To them every heroic 
 age had expressed its highest aspirations in choice pro¬ 
 ductions of architecture and art. Assyrian art was a 
 reflex of Assyrian nature; the temples and monuments of 
 Egypt the product of Egyptian thought; and Grecian art 
 so magnificent because it was a truthful embodiment of 
 the intellect of that wonderful people. To those men 
 England also had a national spirit to embody, and only 
 waited for a man with sufficient genius to give it expression. 
 
 No nation in the world ever had such opportunities 
 as ours for erecting noble buildings, both public and 
 private. We are the richest nation in the universe, 
 and money is freely spent upon every conceivable ob¬ 
 ject. Let our architects produce good things, and 
 there is plenty of money in England, and public and 
 private spirit also, to erect them. We pay little attention, 
 therefore, to the constant complaint about the limitation 
 of expense. Those who cannot erect good buildings with 
 
 B 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 2 
 
 the millions which are yearly spent for that purpose, 
 would fail if they had the wealth of the empire at their 
 command. What our buildings require is, not size, but 
 expression; not luxury, but thought. And a plating of 
 gold and a coat of stucco would be alike ugly and mean¬ 
 ingless, unless life has been imparted to them by the 
 touch of genius. 
 
 It is our duty, however, to look for good things; we do 
 not profess to create them, we are not even critics. It is 
 ours to delineate that which is growing up around us; we 
 select that which seems to us the best, and would gladly 
 take better if we knew where to find it. But that which 
 is shall be truthfully given ; and by producing the building 
 in colours, whatever beauty it possesses is sure to be 
 displayed. 
 
 From what we have already said, it will be taken for 
 granted that we have not fixed upon any style of archi¬ 
 tecture to which, by way of pre-eminence, we shall 
 apply the term Victorian. Posterity may, for aught we 
 know, dignify some modern efforts by that name; but 
 with this we have nothing to do. We shall represent the 
 architecture of the Victorian Age as it is, keeping a good 
 look-out for all that is excellent in taste, and specially 
 adapted to the purpose for which it was erected/ 7 
 
 Such, then, is our vocation; we are seeking for those 
 trophies of architectural skill which shall give expression 
 to the spirit of our times in its highest and noblest aspect, 
 and that shall convey to posterity a just conception of our 
 present national culture. This we shall record in such 
 form and style as shall insure its preservation, and give to 
 those who can never see the originals a correct idea of the 
 best buildings of our time. 
 
 The illustrations in our present number are confined 
 to the International Exhibition building, because of the 
 world-wide interest which is necessarily excited by this 
 stupendous undertaking. These International Exhibitions 
 are a product of the Victorian Age, and we desired to re¬ 
 present it accurately as it appeared on the 1st May, 1862. 
 
 STUDIES OF MODERN ARCHITECTURE AT 
 HOME AND ABROAD. 
 
 BY G. R. BURNELL, ESq. 
 
 In one of his earlier works, Victor Hugo said very truly 
 that “ quand on sait voir, on retrouve Pesprit d’un siecle, 
 et la pliysionomie d’un roi, jusque dans un marteau de 
 porte; ” and it is precisely this connexion between the 
 inner soul of a nation, and the external expression of it 
 in its works of art, which gives to the science of Archaeo¬ 
 logy its deepest interest. “ The noblest study of mankind 
 is” said to be “man;” and so every form in which he 
 displays his heart of hearts must merit and repay the 
 study of those who endeavour to ascertain the meaning 
 of the various social phenomena which influence or cha¬ 
 racterize his history. And it is to be observed that tRe 
 terms of the latter portion of the preceding sentence have 
 not been used lightly; for the monumental arts of an age 
 and of a nation have a strange action and reaction on the 
 
 people who examine them daily. Properly understood, 
 then, the “ sermons in stones ” may enable us to supply 
 many blanks in the written stories of past ages, and to 
 revive the living pictures, perhaps long since effaced, of 
 the thoughts, feelings, aspirations, and faith of nations 
 only known in chronicle by their deeds of destruction. 
 History, as we read it in books, is too often a mere record 
 of deeds of war and violence; the power and energy of 
 construction are to be divined from the monuments of an 
 age or country. 
 
 It would far exceed the limits which could be allotted to 
 the articles of a publication, such as is now presented to 
 the students of art history, (as displayed in contemporaneous 
 architecture,) were an attempt made to work out the pre¬ 
 ceding notions to their natural consequences, throughout 
 the whole of the long period of man’s tenancy of this 
 “ sepulchral clod.” A careful comparison of the works in 
 course of erection in the most important cities of the 
 civilized world, or which have been completed within our 
 own time, will, however, serve well to “ point the moral ” 
 sought to be demonstrated; and indeed society has passed 
 through such marked changes within the period which has 
 elapsed since 1814, that the art history of that time may 
 serve to elucidate many questions which would throw a 
 reflex light on those which have gone before. The general 
 diffusion of education, the improvement of the analytical 
 process of investigation, the development of the means of 
 intercommunication, the great strides made in manufac¬ 
 turing industry and commerce, and the thousand ways in 
 which man has recently, in sober truth, “ made fire, flood, 
 and earth the vassals of his will,” have produced results 
 so startling that society has, in the last half-century, been 
 more changed in all its external expressions than it had 
 been in any previous two or three centuries. What is the 
 moral to be learned from this restless, ceaseless striving 
 after a perfection which recedes as we advance, and in the 
 pursuit of which we find that the gain of to-day only 
 opens up the want of the morrow ? What are the prospects, 
 what the dangers, hopes, and fears to be anticipated from 
 the spirit now abroad ? Is there “ good in everything ” 
 going on around us, either for the moral or for the intel¬ 
 lectual advancement of our race ? and have late years 
 furnished lessons for our guidance or for our warning? 
 These are noble subjects for inquiry, and it is proposed in 
 this and in some subsequent articles, if favourably received, 
 to discuss the bearings of recent architectural and arclueo- 
 logical revolutions upon their solution. 
 
 The first inquiry which presents itself, is the one as to 
 whether periods of excellence in art correspond with any 
 peculiar conditions of social organization? for, to limit 
 our observations for the present to the two leading nations 
 of Western Europe, England and France, we may observe 
 that within the last half-century, there have been three 
 distinctly-marked phases in the history of architecture, 
 corresponding rudely with the great political dates of 1814, 
 1830, and 1848. Of course. Architecture, in the two 
 countries thus named, has assumed characteristics which 
 are in the respective cases, “racy of the soil;” just as, 
 during the period of the great Revival of classical art the 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 3 
 
 architectures of Florence, of Rome, and of Venice bore 
 the impress of the respective states of society amongst 
 which they arose; and as must always be the case when 
 the rude materials employed, the atmospheric conditions, 
 and the social organizations of nations, differ notably. 
 But in spite of these local modifications, it is easy to per¬ 
 ceive that every one of the great changes in the architec¬ 
 tural expression of the two countries named, have borne a 
 marked parallelism with the contemporary political events, 
 the nature and extent of which it must be of interest to 
 study. 
 
 Previously to 1814 the iron despotism of the Empire of 
 the first Napoleon had effectually crushed everything like 
 originality of thought in the French people, and had 
 drilled the national mind into the uniformity of a camp. 
 The architecture of his day bore indeed the physiognomy 
 of the Emperor; and it was modelled upon so lifeless an 
 imitation of Roman imperialism, that it is easy to under¬ 
 stand the cry of the aspirers after freedom of thought who 
 sighed, almost in despair, for the man “ qui les delivrerait 
 de ces eternels Grecs et Romains.” There was, however, 
 a solid grandeur, a bold, simple, massive effect about such 
 buildings as the Bourse, the Madeleine, the Arc de FEtoile, 
 l’Arc du Carrousel, la Colonne de la Place Vendome, the 
 Marchd St. Germain, the Entrepot des Vins, the Abattoirs 
 of Paris, the Pont d’Jena, &c., which must always preserve 
 the buildings of this period from contempt, even if they 
 should be regarded with dislike. They were stiff and 
 affected, it is true, but they were not little, in any sense of 
 the word. When Napoleon fell, however, and the Bour¬ 
 bons introduced the freedom of constitutional government, 
 and when men’s minds, (which had during the long wars 
 of the Republic and of the Empire been concentrated in 
 the great struggle for existence at first, and then for power,) 
 could be turned to the cultivation of the arts of peace, a 
 great change soon came over the spirit of the nation, which 
 displayed itself in the altered character of its architecture; 
 perhaps not quite so distinctly as it did in the arts of 
 painting, sculpture, music, and in literature and philo¬ 
 sophy, but still perceptibly so. The churches of Notre 
 Dame de Lorette, of St. Vincent de Paul, the Chapelle 
 Expiatoire de la Rue d’Anjou St. Honore, the completion 
 of the Chamber of Deputies, the commencement of the 
 Palais du Quai d’Orsay, may be cited as illustrations of 
 the public buildings of this period; but the private build¬ 
 ings of the principal towns of France display the tendencies 
 of the architecture of the “ Restauration” in a still more 
 decided manner. There is to be found in those buildings 
 erected shortly after the fall of the Empire, as it were, a 
 spirit of revolt against the rigid rectilineal style which had 
 prevailed during the days of the crowned soldier; and 
 towards the end of the R,estauration the love for mediaeval 
 art began to display itself simultaneously with the brilliant 
 appearance of the romantic school of literature. The 
 galleries Vero-Dodat, Choiseul, Colbert, des Panoramas, 
 the theatres du Vaudeville, Ventadour, &c., may be con¬ 
 sidered to represent the former phase of French architec¬ 
 ture; the reconstruction of the Maison de Francois l er , 
 and the commencement of the Ecole des Beaux Arts, of 
 
 the second. But France had been so exhausted by the wars 
 of the Empire, by the foreign occupation, and the perpe¬ 
 tual struggles and contests of parties during the short 
 period of the reigns of the returned Bourbons, that the 
 results of the efforts then made to improve the state 
 of architecture only became apparent after their successor 
 had reduced society to something like order after the fear¬ 
 ful outburst of demagogism of 1830. 
 
 During the same period (that is, between 1814 and 
 1830) architecture in England passed through the phase 
 characterized in the beginning by the productions of 
 Wyatville, Soane, and Nash, or of Jupp, Cockerill, senr., 
 and Hardwick, senr.; and towards the end by Smirke, 
 Inwood, Wilkins, Jorden, Bedford, Decimus Burton, 
 B. Wyatt, Rickman, Britton, and Pugin, though the 
 three last-named artists were rather archaeologists than 
 practical architects. The buildings of London, and in¬ 
 deed of England generally, were then as deficient in taste 
 and artistic feeling as it is possible to imagine, externally, 
 at least; and internally, more attention was paid to phy¬ 
 sical gratification, to comfort, than to anything like in¬ 
 tellectual expression. Practically, we had long been ex¬ 
 cluded from all interchange of ideas with the rest of the 
 world by the struggle we had sustained against the French 
 Revolution; and having been victors in that struggle, we 
 had fancied that others ought to learn from us, not we 
 from them. Our arts, and our architecture in particular, 
 at this period were intensely local in their feeling and 
 mode of expression; and as our local peculiarities had 
 become exaggerated through our isolation from the rest of 
 the world, they led us to the adoption of a style of archi¬ 
 tecture for many years which can now only be looked back 
 upon with feelings of shame and of regret.j Buildings 
 like the Custom House, the old parts of Buckingham 
 Palace, the Law Courts of Westminster, Regent-street, 
 the Regent’s-park Terraces, the Pavilion at Brighton, &c., 
 are now thought to be so intensely ugly that the only 
 surprise we can feel is, that they should ever have been 
 erected. Yet they were admired at the very same time 
 that the gates at Park Corner, Co vent Garden Theatre, 
 the Post Office, St. Pancras Church, the churches in the 
 Waterloo-road, at the corner of Kennington Common, 
 the Lothbury corner of the Bank, &c., were in course of 
 construction, and when the revival of mediaeval art was 
 beginning to make itself felt. It would really seem that 
 during the great struggle of the Revolutionary wars all 
 the energy of our nation had been turned to meeting the 
 necessities of the contest; and that though our commerce, 
 our manufactures, and our means of intercommunication 
 had attracted the attention of our rulers, because they 
 furnished the elements of material strength, the finer arts 
 had been designedly neglected, as being likely to lower the 
 moral tone of the nation. When peace came, the artistic 
 feeling of England no longer existed; and the nation 
 which had produced the Reynolds, Gainsboroughs, 
 Chambers, Adams. Bacons, and Banks of the latter end of 
 the eighteenth century, was content to admire the Wests, 
 Fuselis, Wyatvilles, Soanes, Westmacotts, and Nollekins 
 of the beginning of the nineteenth.! The imitation of 
 
 b 2 
 
4 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE YICTORTAN AGE. 
 
 pure Grecian architecture, which became fashionable 
 about the end of the Regency, was, in its way, a vast 
 stride towards a purer and nobler taste; hut the reason 
 why we thus adopted the severely beautiful style of the 
 Ionian and Doric rectilineal forms, whilst they were 
 rapidly passing out of fashion in other countries (for 
 there is fashion in these things), must long remain a 
 mystery. It is curious that the building materials we 
 use, and the climatological conditions of England, are far 
 from being so well adapted to the trabeated architecture 
 of the Greeks, as are the fine building stones and the 
 clearer atmosphere of France.. Yet, in our case, we per¬ 
 sisted for years in carrying out huge horizontal openings 
 by the use of cement and bricks; whilst our neighbours 
 turned by preference to the practice of Vignola and of 
 the Italian architects of the end of the Risorgimento for 
 models and instruction. The latter had, like all who 
 sought their inspiration from the study of classical Roman 
 art, adopted vaulted construction instead of the trabeated 
 one; and we therefore find that the French architects of 
 the “Restauration” had continued in the same course. 
 
 There are two important remarks to be made on the 
 subject of the want of taste which characterized the 
 English architecture of George IV.’s era, and of the dawn 
 of the revival of Mediaeval art throughout Europe. The 
 first is, that it rarely happens that the nations which 
 occupy distinguished places in the world’s history as 
 guides and rulers in political affairs, are at the same time 
 remarkable for the excellence or the originality of their 
 arts ;' and that, whenever one of those social revolutions 
 occur by which the external characteristics of a nation are 
 altered, it is heralded by a literary movement preceding 
 the artistic one. The second is, that the change of taste, 
 feelings, and opinions which accompany these revolutions 
 (or paling eneses, as Ballanche calls them), only exhibit 
 themselves in the art productions of the successors of the 
 generation which immediately works out the moral prob¬ 
 lems on which those revolutions depend. Thus, the old 
 Romans avowedly claimed credit to themselves for the 
 possession of the power of conquering the world, whilst 
 they admitted the superiority of the Greeks in the arts 
 which refine and adorn life—or, as Virgil said— 
 
 Excudunt alii spirantia mollius sera, 
 
 Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento! 
 
 and the brilliant periods of the Medicean and of the 
 Louis XIV. ages corresponded but too closely with the 
 moral degradation of the nations amongst which they 
 arose. Ampere also acutely remarks, that even modern 
 Rome herself, at the period when her influence was the 
 most decidedly moral, did not produce any great artists in 
 her own district, hut was compelled to seek her architects, 
 painters, and sculptors at Florence, Urbino, Bologna, &c. 
 Again, it was amongst the contemporaries of Boccaccio, 
 Petrarca, Giotto, and Brunelleschi that the movement in 
 favour of classical art and literature commenced, to be 
 worked out by the Bramantes, Michael Angelos, Filicaias, 
 and Bembos of a future generation; just as Sir W. Scott, 
 Victor Hugo, Schlegel, Savigny, Pugin, Lenoir, Schinkel, 
 Boisree, Manzoni, &c., the leaders of the intellectual 
 
 movement of the period between 1814 and 1830, paved 
 the way for the technical revival of the Mediaeval feeling 
 of later datesj In both these cases, however, the literary 
 and scientific revival preceded the artistic one; and the 
 intellect of the age had assumed a marked tendency, men’s 
 minds had been resolutely turned towards certain idols 
 for many years, ere the more material arts assumed the 
 expression of the prevalent modes of thought. It would 
 seem that it requires a longer time to discipline the 
 faculties which are brought into play in the production of 
 works of pictorial, sculptural, or monumental art, than it 
 does to discipline the poetical or the philosophical faculties; 
 and it actually did happen that the romantic school 
 established its power and influence, carrying the European 
 mind back to the study of the middle ages, several years 
 before artists or architects dared to cast aside the traditions 
 of the classical schools in which they had been educated. 
 Between 1814 and 1830 the prevalent styles of art in 
 France and in England differed but little from those of the 
 antecedent period; but when the generation educated 
 under the influence of the ideas fermenting, as it were, at 
 that period, came upon the stage of active life, their hopes, 
 aspirations, and day-dreams found vent in the productions 
 of their hands. Some of the architects of the period 
 above named did, it is true, attempt to adopt the Gothic 
 style, as it was still called; these works at the present day 
 are bitterly criticised by the students of archaeological 
 details, and, indeed, they were very ludicrous affairs in 
 many instances; hut they as often display the existence 
 of the same description of sentiment—of the same mental 
 idiosyncrasy—as the one which had inspired the middle 
 ages themselves, when examined by those who can look 
 beyond the character of a foliage decoration, or the profile 
 of a moulding, into the deeper spirit of the inspiring 
 genius of the whole of the respective monuments. 
 
 It is desirable to dwell upon these considerations, be¬ 
 cause there is a tendency at the present day to confound 
 the ideas of national taste and of national prosperity, and 
 to regard the refinement of the one as the necessary pre¬ 
 decessor of the other. History would appear, however, to 
 teach another lesson, and hitherto the nations which have 
 turned to the excessive cultivation of their artistic fancies, 
 have witnessed the decline of their moral virtues, and 
 consequently of the elements of their power and political 
 superiority. There are dangers in the excessive develop¬ 
 ment of any order of faculties to which the students of 
 fine arts, from the very nature of their pursuit, are espe¬ 
 cially exposed, on account of the imaginative character 
 that pursuit is likely to foster. In the body of the nation 
 itself, when the arts are more than usually cultivated, 
 somewhat of the same phenomenon occurs, and the refine¬ 
 ment and luxury thus expressed lead to a morbid and 
 effeminate delicacy of thought and feeling directly opposed 
 to the manlier and higher order of mental character. The 
 state of English and French architecture in the respective 
 periods between 1800 and 1814, and of 1814 and 1830, 
 seem to illustrate, in a partial manner, these views; and 
 decidedly inferior as our schools of Architecture then 
 were to those of our neighbours, it may fairly be ques- 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 5 
 
 tionecl whether oar very deficiencies were not indications 
 of the prevalence of a healthier tone of the public mind 
 than could he discerned in the more artistic productions 
 of our neighbour. The buildings of the later period of the 
 Georgian era were, no doubt, singularly devoid of taste, 
 and they did not indicate any deep or sincere faith on the 
 part of their authors ; but in these respects they stood in 
 marked contrast with the productions of the followers of 
 other arts and sciences of their day; and thus must be 
 considered to mark simply a transition state in their own 
 particular walk. It could not be, that the epoch and 
 nation which could boast of such men as Playfair, Dugald 
 Stewart, Reid, Byron, Shelley, Wordsworth, Southey, 
 Coleridge, Lamb, Flaxman, Turner (in his best day), 
 Wedgwood, Rennie, Telford, Dodd, D. Stevenson, Watt 
 (at the close of his career), Olynthus Gregory, Tredgold, 
 F. Bailey, Ivory, Sir H. Davy, was in any way inferior to 
 other times or nations “ in the weightier matters” of life; 
 and even the strange vagaries of the Pavilion, of All 
 Souls 5 , Langham-place, and the questionable repairs of 
 our cathedrals, indicated that a profound movement was 
 then going on in the national mind, which has paved the 
 way to much of the improvement of more modern times. 
 
 At the present day we are apt to treat with ingratitude 
 the services rendered to the cause of Architecture by the 
 researches and the archaeological discoveries of the Restau- 
 ration era; but a great portion of the credit awarded to the 
 artists of subsequent times ought, in justice, to be awarded 
 to those who collected—often at great personal risk—the 
 elements of artistic education. Our own Aberdeen, Hope, 
 Gell, Inwood, Wilkins, Cockerill, Donaldson, Pugin, 
 Wyld, Britton, Daniel; the French Denon, Percier, Fon¬ 
 taine, Montigny, Clochat, Quatremere de Quincy, Raoul 
 Rochette, Visconti, Dusommerard, Nodier, Merrimde, &c., 
 had studied and reproduced the various forms of ancient 
 art, and had called attention to those of the Middle Ages, 
 of Egypt, and of India.; The seed thus sown has yielded 
 good fruit, but our debt of obligation to our predecessors 
 is not the less great; and though the Architecture of the 
 period between 1814 and 1830 did not produce any 
 buildings able to characterize a “ style, 55 it rendered it easy 
 for its successors to approach that desired consummation. 
 In fine, this period was one of social and moral transition; 
 for the conviction of the stability of old forms of law, 
 philosophy, art, and even of religion, had been violently 
 shaken by the events of the end of the seventeenth, and of 
 the beginning of the eighteenth centuries ; and men were 
 anxiously examining the grave problems of man’s destiny 
 here and hereafter, and the mode of organizing society so 
 as to allow him to work out that destiny in the freest and 
 most satisfactory manner. The Architecture of the period 
 reflected truly this state of the public mind. It was essen¬ 
 tially uncertain and tentative. All previous styles were 
 tried in their turns, and their merits discussed, but little 
 originality was introduced into the works of the architec¬ 
 tural students. Rousseau said, that “ quand ou com¬ 
 mence a raisonner on cesse de sentir ; 55 and so it seems to 
 have happened with the architects of the Restauration 
 epoch, and their productions are more remarkable for 
 
 learning than they are for fancy or for imagination, espe¬ 
 cially towards its close. At any rate the public monu¬ 
 ments and the private constructions of this period indicate 
 that a great problem was being worked out, and that the 
 past and the future were arrayed face to face before 
 thinking minds. 
 
 This was not the case only in the countries we have 
 hitherto exclusively considered; for in the newly created 
 kingdom of the Netherlands, and throughout Germany, 
 the same uncertainty and the same evidence of aspirations 
 after a more stable social organization may be discovered. 
 It is true that the Dutch had subsided contentedly into 
 the sleepy indifference which has so strangely charac¬ 
 terized them of late years; but the Belgians were be¬ 
 ginning to shake off the incubus of the French occupation, 
 and of the deliberate exclusion from the commerce of the 
 world to which they had formerly been condemned by the 
 jealousy of their formidable rivals of the United Pro¬ 
 vinces; and Brussels, Ghent, Liege, Antwerp, were be¬ 
 ginning again to adorn and improve their town architec¬ 
 ture. In Germany, the signs of activity in this field were 
 more distinctly marked still, and the schools of Vienna, 
 Berlin, and Munich, were earnestly striving to eliminate a 
 style of their own, under the guidance of such consum¬ 
 mate artists as Schinkel, Von Klenz, Knoblauch, Von 
 Gartner, Ohlmuller, Von Hiibsch, G. Moller, J. G. 
 Muller, &c. In some respects, indeed, the German 
 Architecture of the Restauration epoch must be consi¬ 
 dered to be of a far superior character to that of any of 
 the contemporary European schools, for it was bolder, 
 more distinctly national, and more fraught with promise 
 for the future, than they were; yet even at this time the 
 cold pedantry and the dreamy mysticism of the German 
 intellect could be discerned in the architecture of the 
 various capitals; and there is a lack of spontaneity about 
 the marvellous adaptations of the forms of antecedent 
 art, to be discovered in the Aukirche, the Glyptothek, the 
 Theatre of Mainz, the Altlerclienfelder Kirche, &c., which 
 goes far to mar their effect. Of late years, indeed, 
 German art has been singularly “ bureaucratic 55 in its 
 spirit, and it bears ineffaceable signs of the personal in¬ 
 fluence of the rulers of the day, and of the tyranny of 
 schools; self-dependence is not a German virtue, anditwould 
 be but lost labour to seek for its manifestation in German 
 art. As for “ the geographical expression, 55 Italy, and as 
 for Spain, there was so little national independence, and 
 so little personal liberty in them during the period we 
 have attempted to review, that they may safely be left out 
 of account in the endeavour to discover the philosophy of 
 architectural development. 
 
 Sir Kobeet Clifton’s Bridge over the Trent. —The plan of 
 this structure, says the Notts Guardian, provides for every exigency 
 which may arise from the flooding of the Trent. The incline at either 
 side is erected on arches, which will arise from inverted arches, so that 
 the impediment to the free passage of the water when it should rise 
 above the usual level will he reduced considerably. The expense is 
 estimated to be 24,000?. at the lowest. The Trent Navigation Com¬ 
 pany, it is stated, intend to oppose the passing of the Act, on the 
 ground that the track for the horses under one of the large arches is 
 not to he fenced in with iron railings. 
 
G 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 WHAT IS ARCHITECTURE? 
 
 No. I. 
 
 BY T. HARRIS, ESQ. 
 
 Any attempt to analyse or even criticise the merits of 
 the architecture of this or any other age would be utterly 
 futile unless we have some definite conception of what 
 architecture really is; we shall therefore, as a prelimi¬ 
 nary to discussing what we conceive a Victorian style 
 should be, offer a few definitions that may serve as guides 
 and limits in our future investigations. 
 
 Building, then, is not architecture, although the stones 
 and bricks may be piled one upon another in enduring 
 form. To merit the higher appellation there must not 
 only be construction, but an arrangement of all the parts, 
 and special adaptation of the whole to some individual 
 or social want. In this there should be the utmost eco¬ 
 nomy both of space and material. Still, something more 
 is required. The artist must touch those lifeless blocks, 
 and a presiding mind infuse his spirit into the whole until 
 it expresses the very image of his soul, before it can 
 be said to be pure architecture. This art, when pro¬ 
 perly understood, will differ from all the other fine arts, 
 since they are only educational, whilst this is educational 
 and useful, ministering to the necessities and luxuries of 
 mankind, whilst it impresses the imagination with ideas 
 of grandeur and educates the taste in lines of beauty. 
 
 In this art, then, there are several gradations, each 
 possessing its own point of interest. Simple construction 
 is sure to rivet the attention of the uninitiated. Arrange¬ 
 ment is another gradation, more pleasing because more 
 easily appreciated; then comes the artist who throws 
 the halo of his genius over the whole and crowns the 
 fabric with idealism and poetry. He gives life and vigour 
 to the cold mass, and is the true creator of architecture. 
 Before his time men lived in caves, wigwams, huts, and 
 hovels. He stole the sacred fire from heaven, and breathed 
 it into the dull masses of brick and stone. What the 
 body, with its compact masses of bone, sinew, and muscles 
 is without life, that is buildiug without the higher inspi¬ 
 rations of art. 
 
 Architecture should be—and, indeed, true architecture 
 always is—the most intelligible and readable of all the 
 fine arts. This must ever be the case when each work is 
 complete in itself, not in a dead or foreign language, but 
 in the correct vernacular of the period. When it speaks 
 in a living and not in a dead language, it is read and un¬ 
 derstood by all men. 
 
 The study of ancient art is to us what the study of the 
 classics is to the man of learning. We go to antiquity 
 not for the purpose of reproducing what we find there, 
 but that we may catch the spirit of refinement and power 
 of expression possessed by the great artist of former 
 days. Studied in this light, the monuments of ancient 
 nations are invaluable. They are the chronicles which 
 record the ebb and flow of human culture. In this way 
 we can trace the wave of civilization as it passed from 
 Asia to Europe, and mark the epochs of genius every¬ 
 where ; but to articulate in the language of the ancients 
 
 is to speak in an unknown tongue, and fail to express the 
 living thought of to-day. In every age except our own, 
 architecture has been a faithful chronicler of the progress 
 or decline of nations; but ours, which beyond all other 
 is the age of progress, has not yet formed this expression 
 of our present national culture in language in which we 
 are content to convey it to posterity. 
 
 Upon architecture as distinguished from building, Mr. 
 Ruskin has the following judicious remarks :—“To build 
 —literally, to confirm—is by common understanding to 
 put together, to adjust the several pieces of any edifice or 
 receptacle of any size. Thus we have church building, 
 house building, ship building, and coach building. That 
 one edifice stands, another floats, and another is suspended 
 on iron springs, makes no difference in the nature of the art, 
 if so it may be called, of building or edification. The persons 
 who profess that art are severally builders, ecclesiastical, 
 naval, or of whatever other name their work may justify; 
 but building does not become architecture merely by the 
 stability of what it erects; and it is no more architecture 
 which raises a church, or which fits it to receive and con¬ 
 tain with comfort a required number of persons occupied 
 in certain religious offices, than it is architecture which 
 makes a carriage commodious or a ship swift. I do not, 
 of course, mean that the word is not often, or even it may 
 not be legitimately, applied in such a sense (as we speak 
 of naval architecture); but in that sense architecture 
 ceases to be one of the fine arts, and it is therefore better 
 not to run the risk, by loose nomenclature, of the confu¬ 
 sion which would arise, and has often arisen, from ex¬ 
 tending principles, which belong altogether to building, 
 into the sphere of architecture proper. 
 
 “ Let us, therefore, at once confine the name to that 
 art which, taking up and admitting, as conditions of its 
 working, the necessities and common uses of building 
 impresses on its form certain characters venerable or beau¬ 
 tiful, but otherwise unnecessary.It may not be 
 
 always easy to draw the line so sharply and simjily, be¬ 
 cause there are few buildings which have not some pre¬ 
 tence or colour of being architectural, which is not based 
 on good building; but it is perfectly easy, and very neces¬ 
 sary, to keep the idea distinct, and to understand fully that 
 architecture concerns itself only with those characters of 
 an edifice which are above and beyond its common use. 
 I say common, because a building raised to the honour of 
 God, or in memory of men, has surely a use to which its 
 architectural adornment fits it; but not a use which limits 
 by any inevitable necessities its plan or details.” 
 
 Such is Architecture according to our idea. In a future 
 article we shall endeavour to show what the Victorian 
 Architecture should be to realize this conception. There 
 may, as indeed there always must be, a great difference 
 between the real and the ideal. The poet in the high 
 hour of his inspiration sees visions of beauty which his 
 words but feebly express ; and we also shall look for better 
 things, although that which is reared around us in the 
 shape of public and private building but faintly expresses 
 the noble thoughts and feelings of the age in which it is 
 our privilege to live. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 PUBLIC MONUMENTS. 
 
 MONOLITHS. 
 
 The erection of a national memorial to the late Prince 
 Consort has forced upon all who take an interest in the 
 matter a discussion of the question. What monument should 
 be erected to a man whom a great nation delighteth to 
 honour ? Whether viewed in relation to art or universal 
 history, this will always be a subject of great importance. 
 We propose, therefore, to consider that suggested by Her 
 Majesty, and very generally approved of—namely, a mono¬ 
 lithic obelisk—in our present number, reserving other 
 erections which have been devoted to a similar object for 
 future treatment; for although the idea of raising a mono¬ 
 lith to the Prince seems now to be definitely abandoned, 
 still the obelisks of the world will always possess great in¬ 
 terest to all who study the arts. 
 
 The erection of a national monument is an important 
 event in the history of any country, since it fully ex¬ 
 presses two important facts relative to the moral and in¬ 
 tellectual culture of the age. The savage who worships 
 brute force expresses in his mound or cairn his admiration 
 for physical strength and courage, and being incapable of 
 art, records his sentiment in rude grandeur. Civilized 
 man, on the other hand, looks for other qualities in his 
 hero, and gives expression to his thoughts in the choicest 
 productions of art. Both, however, have one common 
 object: to transmit to posterity a record of the man who, 
 by some great service rendered to his own generation, has 
 entailed a debt on posterity which the generations to come 
 must pay in gratitude. It is hero-worship’s highest act of 
 devotion, and should be performed in the noblest and 
 purest spirit of chivalry. 
 
 Every conceivable kind of object will put in its claim to 
 commemorate a great man. One will have his column, 
 another his equestrian statue, whilst every grade of philan¬ 
 thropy thinks its particular scheme the best calculated to 
 do honour to the departed; hence we have memorial alms¬ 
 houses, schools, scholarships, churches, and hospitals, and 
 every other form which public benevolence patronizes. 
 
 The object of erecting a monument at all is to express 
 in some enduring manner our admiration of the great man 
 who has just been taken from us, and we wish this record 
 of ours to survive ourselves, and transmit his name and 
 our affection to the latest generation. An enduring form 
 therefore is not only necessary, but the most lasting, pro¬ 
 viding it satisfies the conditions of true art, should be 
 selected. The world’s experience is our best guide in this 
 matter. The monolithic obelisks of Egypt have survived 
 the language, the literature, and the very race that erected 
 them. They not only told to the children of the Nile the 
 names and history of the heroes in whose honour they 
 were erected, but they are now, when the civilization in 
 which they originated has utterly perished, repeating the 
 same story in the cities of the west. The conqueror came 
 and saw and coveted, and the Csesars and Napoleon alike 
 desired that their nations should possess those precious 
 monuments erected by the artists of Egypt in memory 
 of departed greatness. 
 
 In reality, an obelisk is the only unique and properly 
 artistic or architectural memorial, with the single excep¬ 
 tion of a statue, that the united inventive faculty of man¬ 
 kind has yet been able to suggest. A column is simply 
 out of place as a monument ; on the contrary, an obelisk 
 serves no other purpose. A column that supports nothing 
 except a huge rat-trap like that at London-bridge, would 
 be as inappropriate as a memorial of a great man, as the 
 earth mound of the partially-civilized American. And 
 almost every other kind of building is alike objectionable 
 upon this same ground, that it is a perversion of its ori¬ 
 ginal significance. A hospital is an out-birth of philan¬ 
 thropy ; a church, of devotion ; and a gaol in memory of 
 Howard, would be more appropriate than a Gothic 
 building in honour of Prince Albert. 
 
 We regret that the Committee have abandoned the idea 
 of erecting a monolith as a memorial to the late Prince 
 Albert; for as we intend to do honour to his memory, it 
 would have been well for once to have done somethina; 
 that would be worthy of our age, and that could not fail 
 to be enduring. An obelisk cut from one piece of ser¬ 
 pentine would, if not broken by barbarous violence, be 
 fresh and perfect ten thousand years hence, and would tell 
 those distant generations how much we loved and honoured 
 “ Albert the Good.” It is, however, useless to regret; 
 and all that is left to us is to enumerate those left by the 
 great nations of antiquity, without hoping, at all events 
 for the present, to produce anything of the kind ourselves. 
 
 We are indebted to the Building News for much that 
 follows on the principal obelisks which still remain scat¬ 
 tered amongst the ruins of Egypt, or which have been 
 transported thence to European capitals. 
 
 “ It is unnecessary that we should touch upon the 
 question of their antiquity. We may take it for granted 
 that they are ‘ Messalet Pharaum,’ but whether Tlxothmes 
 lived 1000 or 3000 years before Christ does not much affect 
 our present purpose. Neither is it worth present inquiry, 
 if Pliny’s account be true, that Mitres, King of Egypt, 
 was the originator of these monuments, and that they 
 were first reared at Heliopolis, in honour of the Sun, 
 which gave its name to the city. One phrase is, however, 
 worth noting for its drollery. He speaks of Bameses 
 f pitching on end an obelisk,’ which ‘ carried in length one 
 hundred foot wanting one’—as though the feat were as 
 easily performed as setting up a five-foot rod. 
 
 “ Nearly all the Egyptian obelisks were set up in front 
 of temples, one on either side of the doorway. The path 
 leading thereto was, in many cases, an avenue of 
 sphinxes, such as we see faithfully represented in the 
 Egyptian Court at Sydenham. This accounts for the 
 obelisks being in pairs. There are two, for instance, at 
 Alexandria—the famous Cleopatra’s needles, although 
 what that queen had to do with them we cannot tell, nor 
 can any one, it appears, inform us. They stood originally 
 at Heliopolis, and were brought thence by the Ptolemies. 
 Like the majority of the Egyptian obelisks, these are of 
 the red Syene granite, and are somewhat less than ten 
 diameters in height. One is still standing, the other lies 
 prostrate by the side of it. It is this latter which was 
 
8 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 presented by Mohammed Ali to the English Government, 
 but which has not been deemed worth the cost of trans¬ 
 port. The standing column is 70 feet high, the fallen one, 
 66 feet. 
 
 “ The celebrated Heliopolis seems to have been remark¬ 
 ably rich in obelisks. Besides supplying stone, which we 
 have just alluded to, several of the European specimens 
 have been brought thence, and at the present day its one 
 obelisk, rising upwards of 60 feet, first greets the tra¬ 
 veller's eye as he approaches the city from Cairo and 
 Matareeh. The pedestal projects from the obelisk two feet 
 on either side, without moulding of any kind. Abd’allatif 
 speaks of ‘ les deux aiguilles de Pharaon,’ of f la tete recou- 
 verte d’un espece de chapeau en cuivre, en forme d’enton- 
 noir qui descend jusqu’it trois coudees environ du sommet.’ 
 
 “ The broken obelisk near Biggig is peculiar, insomuch 
 as the apex is rounded instead of pointed, and, like that 
 at Heliopolis, appears to have been originally covered with 
 bronze or other metal. A slight recess from the sides of 
 the obelisk has given rise to this belief. The obelisk is 
 in two fragments, but, complete, would have been about 
 40 feet in height and 4 feet in diameter. 
 
 “ The easternmost of the twin obelisks at Luxor alone 
 remains there. Its companion is that which now forms 
 the centre of the Place de la Concorde, at Paris. They 
 are both splendid specimens, covered with a profusion of 
 deeply-cut inscriptions and hieroglyphics, in many instances 
 exceeding two inches in depth. 
 
 “ In the adjoining ruins of Karnac there are two obelisks 
 of large dimensions ; one still stands, the other has fallen 
 by its side. They are 92 feet in height and 8 feet square. 
 They are surrounded by a peristyle of Osiride figures. 
 
 “ Higher up the Nile, just above the first cataract, on 
 the island of Philse, Belzoni procured the largest obelisk 
 which we possess in England. 
 
 u The obelisk in the At-Meidan, at Constantinople, is 
 of granite, and partly covered with hieroglyphics. It is 
 about 50 feet high, and is called after Theodosius, but it 
 is believed that that Emperor removed it from another 
 site, where it had been set up by Constantine. Nicitas, 
 in the life of St. Ignatius, Patriarch of Constantinople, 
 says that it had at its top a brazen pine-apple, which was 
 thrown down by an earthquake. The pyramid of Con¬ 
 stantine Porphyrogennetus, standing near, is sometimes 
 called an obelisk, but it is really what we have designated 
 it. It was covered with metal, as were, possibly, the apices 
 of the obelisks at Heliopolis and in the Fyoom. The 
 holes are visible into which the wooden pegs fitted which 
 secured the metal casingr. 
 
 “ The obelisks of Rome are eleven or twelve in number. 
 They have all more or less been surmounted by Christian 
 emblems, and fixed on ordinary Italian pedestals instead 
 of the unmoulded plinth, standing on two or three steps, 
 which the Egyptians deemed more appropriate to them. 
 With the Egyptians the hieroglyphics were the principal 
 feature of them ; with the Popes they were the least con¬ 
 sidered. These latter regarded them as huge blocks, to 
 be converted by minor ornaments into Christian monu¬ 
 ments. They are, of course, the oldest monuments which 
 
 the Eternal City contains, and nothing testifies so strongly 
 to the enduring quality of these monuments as the fact of 
 their still existing after repeated overthrowal and neglect. 
 With the exception of one—that in front of St. Peter’s— 
 all of them have been, since the period of their transport 
 from Egypt, thrown down, and have lain uncared for 
 amidst ruins, or been buried and forgotten until chance 
 unveiled them to a more appreciating age. The old Roman 
 conquerors had a passion for obelisks, and must have em¬ 
 ployed immense sums of money in bringing to Rome these 
 trophies of their Egyptian conquests. This passion, after 
 slumbering for ages, was rekindled in the middle of the 
 sixteenth century by Sixtus V., who, immediately after 
 his election to the Pontificate, determined to transform 
 them into Christian monuments. He invited suggestions 
 from all parts of the world for the best means of removing 
 the huge monolith from the Circus Nero to its present 
 position in the great square before St. Peter’s. Five 
 hundred different schemes were submitted, and eventually 
 Fontana, the architect who designed the church of St. 
 John Lateran, was employed upon the work. Fifty-two 
 times, it is said, his efforts were unsuccessful, but after 
 repeated benedictions and the employment of 600 men and 
 160 horses for upwards of twelve months, he had the gra¬ 
 tification of completing his task. If we are to credit a 
 very improbable story, this was, however, only performed 
 by the extra-official counsel of an English sailor, or, as 
 others more probably have it, of a man named Bresca, 
 who, spite of the injunction to silence, bade them “ wet 
 the ropes,” which, consequently contracting, landed the 
 obelisk in its place. The labour will be understood when 
 we say that the single stone weighs nearly 400 tons, 
 that it is 82 feet 6 inches in height, and in diameter 8 feet 
 10 inches. It was brought from Egypt in a ship built 
 expressly for it by Caligula, who, in the following inscrip¬ 
 tion, still legible, dedicated it to Augustus and Tiberias :— 
 
 DIVO. CAES. DIVI. IVLIl. F. AVGVSTO-. TI. CAESAEI. DIVI. AVG. 
 
 F.-AVGVSTO SACRVM. 
 
 “ The obelisk is of red granite, and bears no hierogly¬ 
 phics. The apex is ornamented with a metal finial, sur¬ 
 mounted by a cross, which was removed one hundred and 
 twenty years ago, when some relics of our Saviour were 
 inserted in it. The obelisk stands upon a double pedestal ; 
 tbe upper one bears some bronze ornament, but the die of 
 the pedestal being no wider than the base of the obelisk, 
 has little more effect than to raise the whole to a height of 
 132 feet from the ground. 
 
 “ The largest and finest obelisk at Rome, then lying in 
 three fragments in the Circus Maximus, next attracted the 
 attention of Sixtus V. Fontana’s skill and energy were 
 again called into action. To fit the fragments together it 
 was necessary to cut off a portion of the base, but not¬ 
 withstanding this diminution, it remains the tallest obelisk 
 in the world, and is surpassed, even in story, only by that 
 which Semiramis is said to have cut out of the Armenian 
 quarries, 135 feet high by 5 feet in diameter. The Lateran 
 obelisk is still upwards of 100 feet high. It is surmounted 
 by a cross, and stands upon a moulded pedestal. The 
 whole height from the ground is 140 feet. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 “ The Circus Maximus likewise yielded to Sixtus V. the 
 splendid obelisk which first greets the traveller on his en¬ 
 trance to Rome by the Porta del Popolo. It is covered 
 wdth hieroglyphics, which different interpreters have vari¬ 
 ously translated. It appears, however, to have been brought 
 from Heliopolis by Augustus, who, on two of its four’ sides, 
 renewed its dedication to the Sun. Sixteen hundred years 
 later it was again reared by Fontana in the same city, and 
 not far from its former site, but this time a cross was 
 placed as the crowning feature of the work. The obelisk 
 itself is 78| feet high, but with the base and ornaments 
 rises to 116 feet. 
 
 “ Two obelisks of red granite, without inscriptions, 47 
 and 48 feet high respectively, formerly stood at the 
 entrance of the mausoleum of Augustus. They were 
 brought to Rome by Claudius in the fiftieth year of the 
 Christian era. Sixtus V., with the aid of Fontana, placed 
 the larger one before the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. 
 The other, two hundred years later, was erected by 
 Pius VI. in front of the Papal palace on the Quirinal. 
 The base of this latter is more ornamented than any of the 
 others, and may give our artists an idea of the effect of 
 large blocks of sculpture at the foot of an obelisk. 
 
 “ The obelisk in the centre of the Piazza Navona is, 
 perhaps, the most picturesquely treated in all Rome. 
 Little is known with certainty of this obelisk ; it is even 
 doubted whether it be an Egyptian work. It is of red 
 granite, and was found, broken into four or five pieces, in 
 the Circus of Romulus, near the Appian Way. Its height 
 is 54 feet 3 inches, but, with its base, it is within a foot of 
 100 feet. It was erected two hundred years ago by 
 Innocent X. It—or rather the pedestal which bears it— 
 stands upon a huge mass of rockwork, 31 feet high, in the 
 centre of a fountain. 
 
 “ A pair of obelisks, 17 feet high, were, in 1665, found 
 in the gardens of the Dominican Convent, behind the 
 Church of S. Maria sopra Minerva. These are supposed 
 to have formerly stood at the entrance of the temple of 
 Isis and Serapis, in the Campus Martius. Bernini, with 
 his usual want of taste, placed one of them on the back of 
 a marble elephant sculptured by Ercole Ferrata. It stands 
 now, a sad spectacle, in the centre of the piazza before the 
 church above mentioned. 
 
 “ Clement XI., forty-five years later, placed the com¬ 
 panion obelisk as a central feature in the middle of the 
 fountain which stands before the Pantheon. 
 
 “ The obelisk which formerly stood in the Circus of 
 Sallust now crowns the lofty summit of the Pincian Hill, 
 in front of the Church of the Sta. Trinity dei Monti. 
 Including its base and ornaments it is 99 feet 11 inches 
 high, but it may almost be said to have the whole flight 
 of steps which lead from the Piazza di Spagna for its sub¬ 
 structure. 
 
 “ A small obelisk, 30 feet high, was, by Pius VII., 
 reared also on the Pincian Hill. It is covered with 
 hieroglyphics, and was found near the Church of Sta. 
 Croce, in Gerusalemme. 
 
 “ The obelisk of red granite erected by Antinori on 
 Monte Citorio was the one which so charmed Winkelfried 
 
 1 
 
 9 
 
 by the beauty of its hieroglyphics. It was brought from 
 Egypt by Augustus, and stood formerly to serve as a 
 meridian in the Campus Martius. Its height is 71 feet 
 6 inches. It is surmounted by a bronze globe. Its base 
 was formed of fragments of the Aurelian column, which 
 were discovered near it. 
 
 “ The magnificent obelisk, which, at a cost of 80,00(U., 
 Louis Philippe transported from the temple at Luxor, is 
 well known to all visitors to Paris. It stands in the 
 centre of the Place de la Concorde. It was brought to 
 France by M. Lebas, the engineer, and by him fixed in its 
 present position. A detailed account of every circumstance 
 connected with its removal has been published, under the 
 title of ‘ Notice Historique, Descriptive et Archeologique, 
 sur PObelisque de Luxor. 5 From it we learn that, on its 
 being taken down, a fissure was discovered, extending up 
 it, which, from the fact of its being secured by wooden 
 dovetailed cramps, was evidently an original flaw in the 
 Syene granite. The name of Rameses II., better known 
 as the Great Sesostris, was also found beneath it. The two 
 monoliths were both given by Mohammed Ali to the 
 French Government, but it was, seemingly, content with 
 the expense and luxury of one of them. Its height is 
 72 feet 3 inches, and its greatest width 7 feet 6 inches, 
 thus being rather less than the general proportion of ten 
 diameters. A pedestal was made for it, of a single block 
 of grey granite, from the quarries of Laber, in Brittany, 
 which weighed 240,000 pounds, nearly half the weight of 
 the obelisk. The obelisk is covered with splendidly-cut 
 hieroglyphics. The eastern side bears a Latin inscription, 
 recording its removal; the western side, one in French, of 
 the same purport ; on the northern side are engraved 
 gilt sections of the machinery used in Egypt for the re¬ 
 moval of the obelisk; on the southern those employed 
 in Paris. A model of the machinery was deposited in the 
 Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers. 
 
 “ There is another obelisk in France, at Arles, erected 
 in 1676, in the square next the Town Hall. It was found 
 prostrate in the mud of the Rhone. It is a simple shaft 
 of grey granite, and was for a long time considered to be 
 Egyptian, but it is now believed to have been taken from 
 a quarry in the Estrelle Mountains, near Frdjus. When 
 discovered it was broken at the top, but the missing frag¬ 
 ment was found, and is now re-attached to it. It is 
 55 feet high and 7 feet 6 inches square, and it tapers con¬ 
 siderably more than any found in Egypt. It rests on four 
 lions couchant, which are at the angles on the cornice of 
 the pedestal. A broad landing bears the whole mass. 
 The sides of the pedestal are inscribed with panegyrics on 
 Louis XIV., in whose reign it was re-erected. The top is 
 decorated in a hideous fashion, with a globe and fleur-de- 
 lis, surmounted by a gilt sun, which has eyes, nose, and 
 mouth marked upon it. 
 
 “ In England we have four genuine Egyptian obelisks. 
 The largest, 22 feet high, is that to which we have already 
 alluded, which stands at the seat of Mr. Bankes, in 
 Dorsetshire. It was procured by Belzoni from the island 
 of PI like, and bears some very interesting inscriptions. 
 Another is at Alnwick. The two remaining ones stand 
 
 c 
 
10 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 on either side of the Egyptian gallery in the British 
 Museum. They are of basalt, and covered with the most 
 exquisite hieroglyphics. 
 
 “ In an adjoining gallery we can see two obelisks from 
 Assyria. The black one is the most important. It con¬ 
 tains five panels of sculpture on each side, and the bands 
 which divide, and the space below them, are covered with 
 1500 lines of Cuneiform inscriptions, detailing a history 
 for thirty-one years of the empire. A larger one near it 
 has its sculpture more defaced, and its inscriptions are 
 illegible. It is cut from the ordinary limestone of the 
 country. The peculiarity of both these monuments is not 
 only in their sculpture, but in the termination of their 
 apices. Whilst, in Egyptian examples, the tops are 
 finished off in the form of a pyramid, these Assyrian ones 
 are terminated by three steps or gradines, and are flat at 
 the top. 
 
 “ Another peculiar obelisk—a polygonal one—said to 
 be Egyptian, stands before the cathedral at Catania in 
 Sicily. It is fixed on the back of a carved elephant. 
 
 “ In the Monumenta Danica we see an engraving of an 
 obelisk, with a cross carved upon it, and we learn that 
 similar ones have been found in several parts of Scandi¬ 
 navia. Of course they have nothing to do, except in their 
 similarity of form, with the obelisks of Egypt. 
 
 “ The grandeur seen in many of these obelisks springs 
 chiefly from the sense of durability which they convey to 
 the spectator, being chiefly hewed and squared out of the 
 ‘ time-defying material/ granite, and consisting of mono¬ 
 liths of unusual size. The mere form of a small obelisk 
 has but little beauty to recommend it. It was, neverthe¬ 
 less, a happy stroke of art which forbore carrying the 
 tapering lines to a point, and splayed the sides of the 
 summit pyramidally. The dignity of the obelisk is thus 
 preserved, and its difference from a pyramid sufficiently 
 marked. All obelisks have a greater or lesser family like¬ 
 ness, and all either were or were not intended to be what 
 Strabo calls them—Books of History—covered on their 
 four sides with inscriptions.” 
 
 On the subject of monoliths, the Lord Mayor made 
 some judicious remarks at the Mansion-house, on Wed¬ 
 nesday, April 14th. In reply to a question from Mr. 
 Gregson, his lordship said :—“ He was afraid the great 
 mass of the people of this country had yet to be educated, 
 so to speak, into a thorough appreciation of the grandeur 
 and appropriateness of the obelisk, and especially a mono¬ 
 lithic obelisk, for monumental purposes. There were some 
 who appeared to regard the setting up a huge stone for 
 such a purpose as simply symbolical of a barbarous age. 
 With great respect for the opinions of others, he could not 
 help saying he altogether dissented from such reasoning. 
 Besides, it was not until the Egyptians had reached the 
 highest point in their cultivation of art that obelisks be¬ 
 came conspicuous features in their style of architecture; 
 and he thought it would have been a glorious thing for 
 England, where a monolithic obelisk worthy the name was 
 utterly unknown, to have made this the occasion for 
 erecting one of imposing grandeur/* 
 
 THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION OF 1862. 
 
 By Captain Phillpotts. 
 
 ITS HISTOEY. 
 
 The promoters of the International Exhibition of 1851 intended that 
 it should be the first of a series of similar Exhibitions; its brilliant 
 success having confirmed them in this resolution, ten years was thought 
 to be a convenient interval between each. 
 
 Accordingly, in 1858, the idea of an Exhibition, to be held in 1861, 
 was brought forward, and being favourably received was resolved upon. 
 
 The political state of Europe, however, compelled its postponement till 
 1862, and a Royal Commission for carrying it out was appointed at 
 the commencement of last year. 
 
 The surplus funds of the 1851 Exhibition had been devoted to the 
 purchase of a plot of ground on the Kensington-gore estate, which was 
 intended to aid future International Exhibitions, and buildings for 
 promoting industrial science and art. Twenty-two acres of this ground 
 have been enclosed in a large quadrangle formed by arcades, and leased 
 by the Commissioners of 1851 to the Royal Horticultural Society, to 
 promote the objects of that institution. 
 
 In laying out the arcades, a large piece of ground was left at the 
 south end, and the possibility of future Exhibitions not being lost 
 sight of, they were so arranged as to make the remaining unoccupied 
 space easily available for that object. 
 
 The southern portion of the arcades was built from the design of 
 Captain Fowke, the engineer and architect to the department of science 
 and art, who was one of a committee appointed to superintend the 
 construction of the whole of the works on the estate of the Commis¬ 
 sioners of 1851. From having been secretary to the British Depart¬ 
 ment of the Paris Exhibition, in 1855, he had gained a clear insight 
 into the nature of the building best adapted to a similar exhibition in 
 England. Availing himself, therefore, of the experience thus gained, 
 and acting under the conviction that periodical International Exhibi¬ 
 tions would be established in England, he carefully considered the most 
 appropriate design for a building on the ground adjoining the Royal 
 Horticultural Society’s Gardens. This design was matured while the 
 arcades were in progress, and was therefore read} to be submitted to 
 the Royal Commissioners as soon as they were appointed. 
 
 On the arrangements for the ground being completed, the Commis¬ 
 sioners therefore had before them a design founded on large experience 
 and an intimate knowledge of the site, the merits of which they at 
 once recognised. Thus relieved of the necessity of competition, which, 
 in the case of the 1851 Exhibition, resulted in disappointment and 
 delay, they carefully considered Captain Fowke’s plans, and eventually \ 
 accepted them, subject, however, to some modification on account of 
 the cost of their execution, which was estimated at 590,000Z. The 
 leading feature in the original design was the Great Hall, which was 
 to have been 500 feet long, 250 feet wide, and 210 feet high. Its 
 proposed position was immediately behind the central entrance of the 
 south front, above which it would have towered in solitary grandeur. 
 
 It was, however, suppressed on account of its cost; but there will be 
 no architectural or constructive difficulties in adding the Great Hall 
 subsequently, and it is to be hoped that before another Exhibition is 
 held, sufficient funds for it may be available. 
 
 THE SITE. 
 
 The ground on which the main building stands is about sixteen 
 acres in extent, and occupies the southern portion of the land purchased 
 at South Kensington by the Commissioners for the Exhibition of 1851. 
 Nearly rectangular in shape, it measures about 1200 feet from east to 
 west, by 560 feet from north to south. It is immediately south of 
 the Royal Horticultural Society’s Gardens, the southern arcade of 
 which has been lent to the Exhibition for refreshment rooms. The 
 Cromwell-road forms the southern boundary, on the east it adjoins 
 Exhibition-road, and on the west Prince Albert’s-road. 
 
 The whole of this ground is covered by buildings of a permanent 
 character, and to secure as much additional space as possible, the two 
 long strips of ground between the east and west arcades and the adja¬ 
 cent roads are roofed in by means of temporary sheds, to give ample 
 space for the exhibition of machinery and other ponderous objects 
 which cannot be conveniently shown in the main building. The addi¬ 
 tional area afforded by these two annexes is about seven acres, which will 
 make the total extent of the Exhibition twenty-four and a half acres. 
 
 The general level of the ground is from four to six feet below the 
 adjoining roads, and it has a gentle slope from north-east to south¬ 
 west. The nature of the soil is well adapted to building purposes; 
 a bed of gravel, from four to twelve feet from the surface, extends 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 11 
 
 throughout the whole area, so that a dry and firm foundation is easily 
 obtained. 
 
 The Commissioners for 1851 are the legal proprietors of the site, 
 hut to secure the greater portion of it for the intended 1872 Exhibi¬ 
 tion, they have agreed to reserve about 16 acres for that purpose, on 
 receiving 10,000Z. as a sort of ground rent. To the Society of Arts 
 will be granted the lease of the central portion of the Picture Gallery, 
 one acre in extent, along the Cromwell-road, for 99 years, on condi¬ 
 tion that ground rent to the amount of 240Z. per annum he paid to 
 the 1851 Commissioners, it being understood that it will be given up 
 unreservedly for the use of the 1872 Exhibition. 
 
 Unlike the 1851 Exhibition, therefore, the removal of which was 
 compulsory, all that foresight could suggest has been done to retain 
 the present buildings, and there can be no moral doubt that if, by any 
 possible means, sufficient funds are available to meet the pecuniary lia¬ 
 bilities, they will remain. 
 
 GENEEAL DESCRIPTION. 
 
 In the general design of the building, its suitability for future Inter¬ 
 national Exhibitions has been kept steadily in view, and it has a much 
 more permanent character than the famous Crystal Palace erected for 
 the 1851 Exhibition. 
 
 It differs, therefore, from its predecessor in many essential particulars. 
 It is more commodious, more imposing in its interior, more varied, 
 more suitable for exhibition purposes; while, from without, its aspect 
 is of impressive magnitude and grandeur. 
 
 Here glass and iron are no longer the main features of the design, 
 hut are succeeded by lofty walls of brickwork, which surround the 
 ground on all sides, and form the walls of the fine art galleries. The 
 east end and west sides, by being continued past the southern arcade of 
 the gardens, have a frontage of 750 feet, and that on the south 1150 
 feet. The north front i3 the lower arcade of the gardens, which has 
 had a permanent upper story added to it. The interior space thus en¬ 
 closed is entirely covered in by roofs of various heights, and is divided 
 into nave, transepts, aisles, and open courts; the latter, occupying 
 comparatively a very small portion, are roofed with glass as in 1851, 
 hut the other parts have opaque roofs, and are lighted by clerestory 
 windows. 
 
 The interior supports are hollow cast-iron columns, as in 1851, of 
 somewhat larger dimensions, being a foot wide, with half an inch of 
 metal in them. They are so arranged as to come at intervals of 25 
 or 50 feet from centre to centre; in fact, 25 is the unit here, as 24 
 was in 1851, and nearly all the leading dimensions, both vertical and 
 horizontal, are multiples of that number. The exceptions to this rule 
 are the nave and transepts, which are 85 feet wide; the former runs 
 east and west, and terminates in the centre of those fronts, having its 
 central line 81 feet north of the centre line of the building, the 
 latter extend north and south from the ends of the nave throughout the 
 whole width. At the intersection of the nave and transepts are the 
 great domes. The aisles are continued all round the nave and 
 transepts, and the space enclosed by them forms the open of glass 
 courts. 
 
 The columns are supported differently from what they were in 1851. 
 On that occasion they were attached to connecting pieces, which, ter¬ 
 minating in a large flat base plate, rested on concrete laid flush with 
 the ground; these connecting pieces of course varied in height to suit 
 the slope of the ground. This has been avoided in the present building, 
 by bedding the columns themselves on York slabs laid on brick piers, 
 which are founded on concrete; the slabs being all adjusted to the same 
 level throughout, by varying the height of the brickwork, only one 
 length of column is used, and the facility of setting them up is thus 
 greatly increased. 
 
 At the north ends of the east and west fronts are the two annexes, 
 temporary supplementary structures, designed for the exhibition of 
 machinery and other ponderous objects, which could not be conveniently 
 placed in the main building. 
 
 The total area roofed in is 988,000 square feet; it is therefore con¬ 
 siderably larger than the 1851 Exhibition, which only occupied 799,000 
 square feet. It has also, when actual covered space is alone considered, 
 slightly the advantage of the Paris Exhibition, which had a covered 
 area of 953,000 square feet. But if we compare the total space, 
 covered and uncovered, occupied by each, Paris is considerably larger, 
 for the better suitability of its climate for out-of-door display enabled 
 the authorities of that Exhibition to increase the area of ground given 
 up to exhibiting space by 547,000 square feet; while, with our variable 
 climate, it has not been thought advisable to have more than 35,000 
 feet of ground unroofed ; so that the total areas, covered and uncovered. 
 
 occupied by the two Exhibitions, are 1,500,000 square feet for Paris, 
 and 1,023,000 square feet for 1862. 
 
 The French Exhibition, therefore, considerably exceeded ours in 
 size, but it was not nearly so compact in form, and its temporary an¬ 
 nexes made up a very large portion of it, occupying 600,000 of the 
 953,000 square feet, while our two annexes do not amount to one-third 
 of the total area. 
 
 CONTRACT. 
 
 Before going into a more detailed account of the various parts thus 
 generally described, it is desirable to state the means which Her Ma¬ 
 jesty’s Commissioners adopted for the punctual completion of the 
 stupendous building. The plans were submitted to the competition of 
 ten leading contractors; three tenders were sent in, and that furnished 
 by Messrs. Kelk and Lucas being the lowest, was accepted. 
 
 These two most eminent firms, joining their resources together, have 
 become partners for the work, and if one can judge from their antece¬ 
 dents, a better guarantee for punctuality and sound work could hardly 
 have been obtained. 
 
 The nature of the contract is peculiar. The whole responsibility for 
 the execution of the works rests with the contractors, and the amount 
 they are to receive is contingent on the receipts of the Exhibition. 
 The Commissioners have the option of purchasing the building out 
 and out, or of merely paying for the use of it. For the rent of the 
 building a sum of 200,000Z. is guaranteed absolutely; if the receipts 
 exceed 400,000Z., the contractors are to be paid 100,000Z. more for 
 rent, and they are bound, if required, to sell the whole for a further 
 sum of 130,000Z., thus making its total cost 430,000Z. 
 
 SOUTH FRONT. 
 
 The general outline of the south front presents an elevation of 1150 
 feet long and 55 feet high, in brickwork, with two projecting towers at 
 each end, rising 16 feet above the general outline, and a large tower 
 in the centre, which is to be the main entrance to the Picture Galleries. 
 Semicircular-headed panels, separated by pilasters, are built at central 
 intervals of 25 feet throughout the whole length, a high plinth extends 
 all round, and between the arches are circular niches, at present vacant, 
 but admitting of future decoration. In the lower portion of each 
 panel is a window, to admit light and air to the ground-floor, and for 
 ventilation of the Picture Gallery above. 
 
 The exterior is chiefly in plain brickwork, and with no more orna¬ 
 ment than that work admits of. The panels are plastered in cement, 
 and experiments are proposed to ornament them in English mosaics. 
 The exterior decoration will eventually depend on the way in which 
 this is carried out, to be decided as funds become available; the present 
 Exhibition will be quite incomplete in this respect, but any amount of 
 architectural ornament that can be paid for may be added hereafter. 
 Yet in spite of this want of ornament, the author of the design has 
 succeeded, with comparatively very limited means, in producing a very 
 imposing general effect. 
 
 Those who have become acquainted with the leading features of the 
 Exhibition building, chiefly through the earliest published drawings, 
 will perhaps be surprised at a description of the south, or principal 
 front, without reference being made to the great domes, which, accord¬ 
 ing to those drawings, form an important feature in it. But the fact 
 is that these domes, being 300 feet from this front, can never in any 
 way enter into its effect; so far from it, indeed, that from no possible 
 position can they ever be seen at the same time as part of the general 
 front. The error has evidently arisen from the circumstance of the 
 drawings in question having been made up by persons ignorant of the 
 plan of the building, from geometric elevations, in which, of course, 
 the domes appeared as if they belonged to the south front. We are 
 induced to allude to this from the fact that much hostile criticism has 
 been wasted upon the disastrous effect of the domes, as seen from posi¬ 
 tions from which they are really invisible. Each dome keeps its place 
 as the centre of its own front, and its effect is utterly independent of 
 its fellow, which is 1000 feet from it. To this want of comprehension 
 of the subject may be attributed the feeling that has been expressed 
 against the two domes adopted, and in favour of a central one. It will 
 be seen, on a little reflection, that each of the domes is virtually central 
 in its own composition, while a dome in the centre of the whole build¬ 
 ing would (from the vast extent of the structure and its peculiar 
 situation) have been thrown entirely out of sight on all sides but one, 
 until seen from such a distance as to lose all connexion with the building 
 in an architectural point of view. The upper terrace of the Horticul¬ 
 tural Gardens is the only point from which such a dome would have 
 been seen in connexion with the building, and this is also the only 
 point from which the two present domes appear simultaneously; but 
 
 c 2 
 
12 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 when thus viewed, so completely does the building carry on the sym¬ 
 metrical line of arcades and terraces, that the duality of the domes is 
 at once accepted as the natural complement of the system which has 
 governed the laying out of the entire quadrangle—namely, that it 
 should be considered with reference to a single building of commanding 
 proportions, situated on the pi-oper site for the chief point of the com¬ 
 position, the most northern and highest part of the ground. 
 
 The main entrance to this portion of the building is through three 
 arches in the central tower, 20 feet wide and 50 feet high, resting on 
 piers 14 feet thick, decorated with terra cotta columns. Above the 
 arches is the cornice and frieze, on top of which, and above the middle 
 porch, is an ornamental clock dial. Passing through the archways the 
 visitor enters a large vestibule and hall, 150 feet long and 110 feet 
 wide, leading to the Industrial Courts and Galleries. A flight of steps 
 on either side wili conduct him to the Picture Galleries, before entering 
 which a brief description of the general principles which have influenced 
 their design will be interesting. 
 
 The chief desideratum of a picture gallery is an equally-distributed 
 light throughout, admitted in such a way as will prevent its rays being 
 directly reflected from the surface of the picture to the eye of the 
 visitor. A light, therefore, satisfying this condition, when the observer 
 is standing at a convenient distance, is the only one which can be called 
 perfect. 
 
 No one can have observed pictures lighted by ordinary windows 
 without experiencing the unpleasant effect produced by the improper 
 reflection of the rays, or glitter from the picture, as it is called. It is 
 for this reason that one is often puzzled where to find a place from 
 which to see the whole of a large picture to advantage. This defect 
 exists in many of the finest galleries, both in this country and on the 
 Continent; and the result is, that some pictures can scarcely be seen at 
 all, while others can only be observed from one or two points, which 
 are always more or less crowded, according to the merits of the 
 subject. 
 
 This is obviated by admitting the light at a particular angle from 
 the roof, by means of a skylight extending along its entire length, and 
 which in the present case measures 31 feet in width, that is 15' 6" 
 from the ridge on either side. The entire width of the opening, 
 measured on a horizontal plane, is 29' 2". As will be seen by reference 
 to the section, each room is 50 feet wide, and at a height of 32' 9", 
 a cove, springing from a cornice on either side, reaches the height of 
 the tie-bar of the principals (42' 10" from the floor), 12' 4" from the 
 wall, thus leaving a space of 25' 4" between the coves. In this space 
 a transparent calico ceiling (hereafter to be replaced by ground glass) 
 is introduced, which, however, is raised 2' 4" above the highest point 
 of the cove, and 45' 7" from the floor. The space between the highest 
 point of the cove and the eave of the calico is occupied by louvres for 
 ventilation. 
 
 These proportions will afford the gallery as much light as possible, 
 and glitter from the surface of the pictures will be avoided. As 
 regards the quantity of light admitted, it may be briefly stated, that 
 the opening for admission is exactly half the floor area of the gallery 
 the former being 25 feet wide, the latter 50 feet. In dealing with 
 the quantity of light, another important point must not be lost sight 
 namely, the height of the opening from the floor, and its con¬ 
 sequent distance from the picture. In this gallery this is reduced to 
 a minimum consistently with the avoidance of glitter, being only 
 45' 7" from the floor. 
 
 The following illustration will explain the question of glitter, or 
 reflection of light, from the varnish of pictures. Supposing a mirror 
 to be hung against the entire surface of the wall. It will be seen, by 
 reference to the diagram, that a ray of light from the skylight at its 
 extremity furthest from either wall, striking that wall at a, at a height 
 of 23 3 above the floor, will be reflected so as to reach the 
 eye, at E, of a beholder (say 5' 3" above the floor) standing 5' 
 on the other side of the centre of the room, or 30 feet from the 
 mirror, and consequently all the rays striking below that point will 
 fall below his eye; or in other words, he will not be able to see the 
 image of the skylight in the mirror at any point below 23' 3" 
 from the floor, and, as a matter of course, there will be no glitter 
 on the wall, or on pictures hung against it, below that point. 
 Consequently, to see pictures without glitter hung higher up, it will 
 be necessary for the spectator to retire still further from the centre of 
 the gallery. 
 
 It will be seen from the diagram, that this point, which is called 
 the glitter-point, alters with the position of the beholder. For instance, 
 at E, 5 feet from the wall, the glitter-point is at F, 11 feet from the 
 
 floor; while, on coming closer, it will descend in proportion. On the 
 other hand, by receding to a distance of 10 feet, the wall may be seen 
 without glitter to a height of 14 feet. Looking again to the same 
 diagram it will be seen that, apart from all considerations of reflection, 
 
 TEANSVEBSE BECTION OF PICTUEE GALLEBY, SHOWING THE WAY OP 
 
 ADMITTING THE LIGHT TO AVOID GLITTEE. 
 8 
 
 rally retire 10 feet, if not more, from it; and the same may be said 
 of the other heights shown on the sectional diagram, so that in any 
 position in which a person can conveniently examine a picture, he may 
 be sure of having its surface free from glitter. 
 
 This system of lighting increases the difficulty of successfully 
 treating the exterior of the building, for it prevents any windows being 
 placed in the upper part of the side walls ; but after the very successful 
 application of these principles of lighting to picture galleries which 
 have been constructed within the last few years at South Kensington, 
 it was wisely determined to forego all other considerations, and apply 
 the same principles to the rooms destined to receive the choicest works 
 of art of the present age. 
 
 On ascending the stairs, the visitor enters a vestibule of similar 
 proportions to the one below, from which he obtains one unbroken 
 vista throughout the whole extent of the main gallery, and it is diffi¬ 
 cult to conceive a finer effect than that produced by contemplating the 
 noble proportion of the rooms before him. 
 
 Entering the fust on either side, he will find himself in a spacious 
 hall, 325 feet long, 50 feet wide, and 43 feet high. Passing through 
 this, he will enter one of the wing towers, which forms a room 
 62 feet by 45 feet, and 66 feet high; he will then enter another 
 room, 75 feet long, and of the same width and height as the first, 
 from which he will pass into the end tower, whence he will have an 
 uninterrupted view of the whole main gallery. 
 
 The interior decorations of these rooms are very simple, and may 
 be briefly described as a plain cove extending to each side of the sky¬ 
 light, and resting on a moulded cornice. 
 
 Arrangements for thorough ventilation, so essential to the preser¬ 
 vation of the pictures and comfort of the visitors, are amply provided 
 for by admitting fresh air through apertures along the floor level, and 
 allowing the vitiated air to escape through louvres in the skylight. 
 
 Descending to the ground floor, the same sized rooms are repeated; 
 but as they are lighted by means of ordinary windows, they will be 
 devoted to other objects than those coming under the head of fine 
 arts. The part of the Picture Gallery which is to revert to the 
 Society of Arts is the central hall, and the two large rooms, 325 feet 
 long, on either side of it. 
 
 Before concluding this description of the Picture Gallery, its con¬ 
 structive details will be interesting. The foundations throughout are 
 carried down to the gravel, here from 6 to 12 feet below the surface of 
 the ground, in concrete, on which ordinary brick footings are laid. In 
 the front wall the piers carrying the semicircular arches are 12 feet 
 wide by 3' 2" thick, and the intervening panel having merely its own 
 weight to support is only 9" work. The back wall is of rather a 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 13 
 
 different construction. This is a plain wall from top to bottom, with 
 numerous arches through it on the ground floor; it is built for the 
 most part hollow, with piers so placed that the weight of the floor 
 and roof will come on them. This system of hollow walling gives 
 the greatest strength with the least amount of material, and secures a 
 straight face at either side. The floor of the Picture Gallery has 
 been constructed of great strength, so as to bear with perfect safety 
 the greatest load wliich can be brought on it. It is carried on 
 girders 13| by 12, resting on the side walls, and intermediately 
 supported by two cast-iron columns. These girders cross the building 
 at certain intervals of 12 J feet, and over them are laid joists 11 inches 
 by 2|- inches, two feet apart, to carry the floor boards. A portion of 
 this floor has been proved to 140 lbs. to the foot, which exceeds the 
 greatest load it can have to bear when densely crowded with visitors. 
 The walls in the Picture Gallery are lined throughout with wood, which 
 is kept at a short distance from the brickwork, so as to guard against 
 damp. The design of the roof is the same as that already employed 
 by Captain Powlce in one of the South Kensington galleries, and also 
 in the Irish National Gallery in Dublin, and seems well adapted for 
 its purpose; the principals which support it consist of two strongly 
 trussed double timber rafters, connected together by an iron tie-bar 
 four feet above the level of the wall plate. The coved ceiling is thus 
 made four feet higher than it should have been with an ordinary tie- 
 beam roof. 
 
 The principals are placed at central intervals of 25 feet; they rest 
 on flat stones built into the walls, and strongly trussed purlins, carrying 
 the skylight rafters and upper portion of the cove, are suspended to 
 them. The skylight is glazed with 16 oz. glass, and the rest of the 
 roof covered with slates. 
 
 EAST AND WEST FRONTS. 
 
 We now come to the east and west fronts, which, though differing 
 from the south, are not less imposing. They are in all respects similar 
 to each other in their general effect. Here the stupendous domes, 
 rising to a height of 260 feet, will show to most advantage ; and the 
 transept roof, with its lofty clerestory windows, will be in full view. 
 To the observer below the form of each dome will appear nearly that 
 of a semicircle; this effect is obtained by making its height 11 feet 
 more than its semi-diameter, which will fully allow for the loss by 
 perspective diminution. 
 
 From the crown of the dome rises the finial to a height of 55 feet. 
 The dome is in the middle of each facade; its centre is the point 
 formed by the intersection of the centre lines of the nave and transepts, 
 and the front of the building is advanced from it 108 feet. Here, 
 through a noble arched recess, is the main entrance to the Industrial 
 Courts, the effect of which forms, we think, one of the most pleasing 
 exterior parts of the building. This central porch is 162 feet in 
 extreme width, and contains a deep semicircular arched recess, of 
 68 feet span and 80 feet high. It is recessed, with a deep covering 
 capable of receiving an almost endless variety of decoration, if such 
 be desired hereafter ; while in its present simplicity it is equally 
 valuable on account of the richness of effect produced by the bold light 
 and shade. 
 
 In the tympan of the recess is the great rose window, which is 
 visible from end to end within—the window in one closing the vista 
 as the spectator looks from a standing point beneath the other. Each 
 of these windows is filled in with a beautiful pattern of stained glass 
 exhibited by Messrs. Hartley, of Sunderland. Minor porches on 
 either side, 36 feet wide, forming wings, support a pedimental gable, 
 which rises to a level with the ridge of the nave and transept roofs, 
 and is finished with a bold line of balustrade. The entrances beneath 
 are enclosed by an arcade, filling up the recess for one quarter of its 
 height, and having a balcony above. The flat brickwork of the wings 
 is relieved by pilasters, one on each side of the minor porch; these 
 carry a light cornice moulding, surmounted by an attic. 
 
 On either side of the central entrance, recessed 15 feet from it, ex¬ 
 tend 235 feet to the north and south, the exterior walls of the building; 
 these enclose the auxiliary Picture Galleries. There is a high plinth 
 from end to end, and immediately above are panels formed by a series 
 of coupled semicircular arched recesses, with bold pilasters between. 
 Over all is an appropriate cornice supported by corbels. By the wall 
 being reduced to a height of 36£ feet, the lofty clerestory windows of 
 the transept which rise immediately behind come into composition. 
 As in the south front, the lower portions of the panels are occupied by 
 windows to give light and ventilation to the offices and retiring rooms, 
 with which the ground floor on these sides is occupied. The upper 
 
 floor is used as an auxiliary picture gallery, and is therefore lighted on 
 the same principles as the rooms on the south front. 
 
 A visitor can enter the auxiliary galleries independent of the main 
 gallery, by means of stairs on either side of the east and west en¬ 
 trances ; or he can have access to them from the end towers of the 
 latter, already described. They form four distinct rooms, 247 feet long, 
 25 feet wide, and 17 feet high. The same principles of lighting and 
 ventilating being observed in these galleries as in the larger one, 
 their construction is similar, subject, of course, to the alterations neces¬ 
 sitated by their smaller size. 
 
 The main and auxiliary picture galleries of the Fine Arts Department 
 afford 4600 lineal feet of hanging space, from 17 to 30 feet high; yet 
 all this amount, large as it may seem, is required, and even more 
 would have been desirable, could it by any possibility have been ob¬ 
 tained. An idea of their extent may be formed by the fact, that in 
 walking once up and down the galleries the visitor has to traverse a 
 mile all but 60 yards, and presuming the moderate allowance of 75 per 
 cent, of the available wall space to be actually covered by pictures, 
 their aggregate areas will equal 7600 square yards, or about I 3 acres! 
 
 NORTH FRONT. 
 
 To complete our survey of the exterior, we must examine the north 
 front, for which purpose it is necessary to enter the Royal Horticul¬ 
 tural Society’s Gardens. The large space here afforded admits of a 
 connoisseur criticising it from several points of view. For our pur¬ 
 pose, however, it will suffice to imagine our station to be on the cen¬ 
 tral walk, one or two hundred yards from the south arcade. 
 
 From no other point will a better appreciation of the building be 
 obtained, The south arcade forms the basement of the north front, 
 to which an upper story has been added. The facade is divided into 
 two floors, except the central portion, which has a mezzanine inter¬ 
 posed. The ground floor, consisting of the southern arcade of the 
 gardens, with its pleasing arrangement of twisted terra-cotta columns, 
 is doubtless familiar to our readers. The whole front is divided into 
 five faces, in different lines of advance. By subdividing the centre 
 mass into three sections, a very great variety and relief of design is 
 obtained. The middle of the front is occupied by the entrance from 
 the gardens, through three 10 feet ornamented brick archways, sup¬ 
 ported by coupled stone columns ; these are immediately opposite the 
 southern entrance, from which point is obtained one unbroken vista 
 across the whole building up to the cascade and conservatory at the 
 north end of the gardens. 
 
 In examining the five divisions of the facade, we find that the centre 
 (70 feet high) presents three levels—the arcade of the gardens, the 
 shallow mezzanine (interrupted by the central arches before mentioned), 
 and the upper floor. On each side of the centre are the lights of the 
 arcade, consisting of tripled ornamental brick arches on terra-cotta 
 columns, separated by pilasters; the upper lights are similarly ar¬ 
 ranged, and the whole is surrounded by a panelled frieze of appropriate 
 design, with openings for ventilation. Over this is seen the roof, of 
 good pitch, following the line of the ground plan. 
 
 The two corresponding recesses on each side are thrown back 25 
 feet, and extend in an unbroken line for 200 feet, with a height of 60 
 feet; the level of the upper floor here corresponds with that of the 
 centre mezzanine, and the lighting, from both above and below, is 
 effected by eleven sets of tripled arches, similar to those in the centre 
 division. 
 
 At each end are the returns into the garden, and in the 50 feet 
 which completes the length is an entrance archway, 10 feet wide, on 
 the far side of which the tripled arched light is repeated. 
 
 The treatment of the whole fi^ade is most effective ; much diversity 
 is obtained by the arrangement of the masses, general uniformity is 
 successfully sought, and every part harmonizes admirably with the 
 adjoining arcades. At a short distance behind rises the lofty ridge of 
 the nave, terminated at either end by the imposing outline of the great 
 domes. 
 
 The upper and lower floors on this front occupy an area of 26,800 
 square feet; the whole of this space is to be given up to the refresh¬ 
 ment rooms and offices connected with them. 
 
 A better choice of situation could not have been made. The ex¬ 
 hausted sightseer, surfeited and bewildered by the endless variety of 
 objects furnished by the Exhibition, will here retire to recruit his 
 mental and bodily vigour for fresh exertions. Here will be retailed 
 refreshments of all kinds—every variety of eatables, from the delicate 
 sponge-cake and strawberry ice, to the honest, substantial roast beef. 
 The teetotaler will find himself bountifully supplied with waters— 
 aerated, medicated, and pure—too numerous to mention, or should he 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 be so disposed, he may even indulge in ginger beer and lemonade ; while 
 the more generous liver will obtain anything he chooses to call for—— 
 from bitter ale to iced champagne. 
 
 Let us glance at the mental refreshment afforded: on ordinary day3 
 it will be the quiet contemplation of the fairy-like scene before him ; 
 here will the mind feast, while the eye wanders from the sloping green 
 banks and verdurous alleys of the pleasure-gardens, studded with 
 flowers basking in the sun, to where the great cascade—appropriate 
 monument to the parent of all around—pours itself into its wide and 
 glittering basin below. On the occasion of fetes, the beauty of the 
 scene will be still further increased by throngs of gaily dressed visitors 
 to the gardens, and the enjoyment of it enhanced by the music pro¬ 
 vided for their entertainment. 
 
 Nor will the pleasure ever be clouded by thoughts of the possibility 
 of these rooms being removed, for no matter what are the financial 
 results of the Exhibition, they, at least, will remain after its close, and 
 form part of the Horticultural Gardens. 
 
 NAVE AND TEANSEPTS. 
 
 Let us now begin our survey of the interior. 
 
 To commence with the nave and transepts, which are similar in all 
 respects. 
 
 Entering by the east or west front the visitor rises two steps, which 
 brings him to the level of the dais under each dome. From this point, 
 six feet above the rest of the floor, he commands in one view the in¬ 
 terior of the whole building. A very serious obstacle in the ground 
 has been overcome by this arrangement. The roads surrounding the 
 site are about 5 feet above the level of the ground on which the 
 building stands. Had this contour been rigidly followed, the visitor 
 would have had on entering at once to descend 5 feet. 
 
 This immediate descent would have been most inconvenient, and 
 would have totally marred the otherwise imposing interior aspect of 
 the building. Had the whole area been raised to suit the road level, 
 it will be obvious that the cost would have been considerably increased. 
 From the dais, three flights of steps 80 feet wide conduct the visitor 
 into the nave and transept on either side. The nave is 800 feet long, 
 85 feet wide, and 100 feet high to the ridge of the roof. 
 
 The supports on either side consist of square and round iron columns, 
 coupled together; the former carry the gallery roof, and the latter, 
 advancing into the nave, receive the principals of the roof. These 
 columns are 50 feet high, in two lengths of 25 feet each, and from 
 their capitals spring the roof frames, which consist of three thicknesses 
 of plank from 18" to 2' 6" deep, firmly nailed and bolted together, 
 and so arranged that their ends break joint. The centre plank is 
 4" thick, and each of the outer ones is 3"; the lower edges are tan¬ 
 gents to an imaginary semicircle, round which they form half of a 
 nearly regular polygon. From the springing rise the posts of the 
 clerestory windows, 25 feet high. The principal rafters of the roof- 
 frames rise from the top of these posts, and are carried up, after pass¬ 
 ing a tangent to the extrados of the arch, to meet at the ridge in a 
 point 25 feet above the top of the clerestory. The angles over the 
 haunches and crown of the arch are firmly braced together, so as to 
 reduce the thrust as much as possible. 
 
 The rib is repeated thirty times in the length of the nave, and from 
 its graceful curve and elegant lightness it produces an extremely fine 
 effect. Between every roof-principal is a clerestory light 25 feet high, 
 consisting of three arches springing from intermediate mullions. The 
 roof is covered with felt, on 1^-inch plank, which is laid diagonally, 
 so as to brace the whole together. The nave is therefore entirely 
 dependent for its light on the clerestory windows ; this is found to be 
 amply sufficient, and a substantial water-tight covering is thus ensured, 
 having the advantage of obviating all chance of that unpleasant glare 
 which the experience of 1851 proved to be unavoidable with a glass 
 covering, while at the same time it will be cooler in summer and 
 warmer in winter. The rain water from the roof is conducted, by 
 means of gutters, down the columns supporting the ribs to drains laid 
 under the ground floor, which carry it off to drains under the adjoin¬ 
 ing roads. 
 
 From each end of the nave, at right angles to it, and extending 
 north and south for a length of 650 feet, run the transepts. They 
 are the same width and height as the nave, and the ribs of its roof 
 are of precisely the same construction. 
 
 The nave ribs have been made at Mr. Kelk’s yard in Pimlico, and 
 carted to the ground in four pieces. When on the spot ready for 
 hoisting, they were formed into two pieces, so arranged that the point 
 of junction should always be at the ridge. To fix the principals in 
 the nave roof, a moveable scaffold of very clever design was used. It 
 
 contained 4740 cubic feet of timber, and weighed87 tons; but notwith¬ 
 standing this, it was moved by four men working crowbars under the 
 wheels. One half of a rib was hoisted to its place; when in position, 
 the other half was raised, and as soon as both were fixed true, they 
 were joined together by completing the arch, and bracing over its 
 crown. As soon as one rib was up, the travelling scaffold was moved 
 to the adjoining bay, and the next rib completed. The purlins and 
 boarding were then fixed, after which the scaffolding was again moved 
 forward, and another bay covered in the same manner. 
 
 The hoisting was all done by a most ingenious winch, or hoist, 
 worked by steam, the invention of Mr. Ashton. This machine has 
 two grooved cast-iron barrels, which are made to revolve by means of 
 a system of toothed wheels connected with a portable steam-engine. 
 A rope is passed round the grooves. On the fall being manned, and 
 the barrels set in motion, the coils of rope are gathered up, and a great 
 hoisting power obtained. By means of snatch-blocks and pulleys, 
 ropes are led from this beautifully simple machine to all parts of the 
 building, and the heaviest materials, such as girders, columns, scaffold 
 beams, &c., are hoisted to their position with the greatest ease and 
 rapidity. As an instance, it need only be mentioned that the heavy floor 
 girders, weighing about 1 j ton, were raised in two minutes, columns 
 in about the same time, and the ponderous ribs of the nave, weighing 
 6 | tons, required only from ten to twenty minutes to raise them to 
 their full height. 
 
 The ribs of the transept were fixed over a standing scaffold all 
 through, which alone consumed 30,336 cubic feet of timber. The 
 reason for this was that as the domes divide the transepts into four 
 separate lengths, four travellers would have been necessary; and 
 though these would not have taken nearly so much material as the 
 standing scaffolds, yet the contractors thought that the difference would 
 not have compensated for the additional labour required in building 
 the former. 
 
 AISLES, GALLEKIES, AND STAIES. 
 
 Three large divisions of the building higher than the adjoining 
 portions run parallel through it from east to west; they are the Re¬ 
 freshment Rooms, the Nave, and the Picture Gallery. These are con¬ 
 nected at their ends by transepts, and thus two vast oblong spaces are 
 enclosed, one to the north and the other to the south of the nave. 
 
 On both sides of the nave and the inner sides of the transepts are 
 aisles 50 feet wide. Another aisle, 25 feet wide, is carried along the 
 outer sides of the transepts and along the back wall of the south front. 
 
 After deducting the space occupied by all these aisles from the 
 oblongs above referred to, we have remaining two smaller ones, that 
 north of the nave 750 feet by 87, and that at the south of it 750 by 
 200 feet. Each of these is subdivided into three courts by two 50-feet 
 aisles. The centre courts are 150 feet long, and those at the ends 250 
 feet. The dividing aisles on the north lead to the refreshment rooms, 
 on the south to the entrance vestibule. 
 
 Twenty-five feet above the ground floor are the galleries, following 
 the same line as the aisles; they give an additional exhibiting space 
 of 203,000 square feet. Particular care has been taken to make these 
 galleries amply strong for the heavy moving loads they will have to 
 bear. The floors are supported on cast-iron girders fixed to the 
 columns; over them are laid two strong suspended trusses, which 
 carry the joists and boarding. 
 
 Supposing a floor to be loaded with 140 lbs. to the square foot, 
 which, being more than the weight of a dense crowd of people, is 
 heavier than any weight it can have to bear, the greatest load that 
 can thus be placed on a girder is 34 tons. The breaking weight of 
 the girders used is 88 tons, and every one of them was proved in a 
 hydraulic press, specially constructed for the purpose, to a load of 38 
 tons, to avoid all risks of bad castings being used. Over each gal¬ 
 lery is a flat roof covered with zinc, supported like the floor, but of 
 much lighter construction. Sixteen flights of steps, 10 feet wide, 
 give ample means of ascending from the ground to the upper floor. 
 
 The galleries play a very important part in the construction of the 
 building; they are made to form an abutment to the nave and tran¬ 
 sept, and the particular form of bracing by which this is effected is 
 the ingenious suggestion of Mr. Ordish. The roof thrusting outwards 
 tends to throw the columns out of perpendicular; strong iron braces 
 are therefore anchored to the foundation of the inner column, and 
 carried up to the top of the opposite outer column, which are thus 
 made to counteract the thrust of the roof. Another bracing, anchored 
 to the footing of the outer column, is carried up to the top of the 
 inner column, to secure it from being acted upon by the force of the 
 wind. This vertical cross bracing is repeated at every 100 feet, or 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 15 
 
 every fourth bay, and by introducing horizontal diagonal bracing under 
 the roof flats, they are turned, as it were, into a deep horizontal girder, 
 supported at both ends by the columns vertically braced as just de¬ 
 scribed. This horizontal girder, therefore, takes the thrust of the 
 three intervening ribs. The way in which the bracing is introduced 
 is very clever, and is an admirable example of the perfect control which 
 the simplest mechanical means, properly applied, gives in dealing with 
 enormous masses. 
 
 The bracing is all adjusted by connecting screw links, on a plan 
 very similar to the method of joining railway carriages ; by this means 
 it can be tightened at pleasure, and the position of the columns cor¬ 
 rected to the minutest part of an inch. 
 
 The cut shows half of one rib with the cross bracing of an adjoining 
 set of columns. 
 
 OPEN OE GLASS COTJBTS. 
 
 In describing the position of the aisles and galleries, it was explained 
 how they enclose six courts, three north of the nave, two of which are 
 250 feet by 87 feet, and the other 150 by 87 feet; three south of the 
 nave, two of which are 250 feet by 200 feet, and the other 150 feet by 
 200 feet. These form the open or glass-covered courts, and are the 
 only portions of the building which in this particular resemble the 
 Crystal Palace of 1851. They have only a ground-floor, and the roof, 
 which is on the ridge-and-valley plan, but in spans of 50 feet, is 
 entirely covered with glass. The roof is carried on square iron columns 
 50 feet apart each way, at the top of which, 50 feet above the floor, 
 wrought-iron trellis girders are fixed on lines running east and west. 
 The columns and trellis-girders carry the principals of the roof, which 
 are all of iron, on the trussed rafter plan, 8 feet apart. The roofs are 
 drained by channels in the valleys, conducting the water down the 
 hollow iron columns. These courts, with their light glass roofs ad¬ 
 mitting floods of light into the building, give a pleasing variety to the 
 interior, and afford most valuable exhibiting space. 
 
 DOMES AND GEOINED BIBS. 
 
 We now come to the great domes, which, from their stupendous 
 size, form one of the most prominent and interesting features in the 
 building. 
 
 As before explained, they are situated at the intersection of the nave 
 and transepts. Their form and position have been thus determined. 
 The intersections of the lines of columns in the nave and transept- 
 aisles form two octagons, which, though not mathematically regular, 
 are regular in this one respect—their opposite sides are parallel and 
 equal, the length of the sides being alternately 85 feet and 35 feet 
 5 inches. The points at the angles of these octagons are the chief 
 supports of the domes. For this purpose there is a column at each 
 angle 2 feet in diameter, and for architectural effect, as well as for 
 carrying the groined ribs, the object of which shall be presently ex¬ 
 plained, the lower portions of these two-feet columns are clustered with 
 two round and one square column of smaller dimensions. 
 
 But though the chief supports are at the eight angles of the 
 octagon, the dome is a duodecagon, the other four points being thus 
 
 obtained. The last bay of the nave and transept, instead of having a 
 roof resting on wooden principals going straight across, has two iron 
 diagonal ribs crossing it, forming, as it were, a groined arch, whose 
 apex is a point in the centre of the bay and in a line with the roof 
 ridge. By joining the apices of these groins and the points in the 
 octagon already determined, we get a nearly regular duodecagon, having 
 its opposite sides parallel and equal, and with eight sides in pairs each 
 equal to 43' 9", and four sides coming between these pairs, each equal 
 to 35' 5". This duodecagon forms the base of the dome, which has 
 thus eight sides over the nave and transepts, and four sides over the 
 corners of the aisles, equal respectively to the dimensions just given, 
 and a diameter of 160 feet. 
 
 Each groined rib transmits the weight on it to two columns outside 
 the octagon, so that the dome may be said to rest on sixteen points, its 
 pressure on the angles of the octagon being nearly five times (4^-) as 
 much as it is on the adjacent columns of the nave and transepts. 
 
 By the very ingenious and novel plan of the groined roof ribs, a 
 duodecagon dome is made to seem to stand on an octagon; no addi¬ 
 tional columns of support but those actually coming in the sides of the 
 nave and transepts are used, and thus an uninterrupted vista is obtained 
 through both, and a very beautiful effect produced. 
 
 Each rib is two feet deep, with a web of •§ in. boiler plate, to the 
 edge of which is rivetted a top and bottom flange of angle-iron, in 
 such a way as to give the top flange an area of 10j-J in., and the 
 bottom flange an area of 19-J-f in. The principal rafter and its upright 
 are also made of wrought-iron, having a web 12 inches deep, with an 
 equal top and bottom flange rivetted to it, so as to give it a sectional 
 area of 20-^- in. Eadial pieces of iron 8" x -rs"> connecting the 
 upright and principal rafter with the curved portion of the rib, are 
 introduced every 5 feet. At the intersections the ribs are strengthened 
 by additional plates of iron, and here, for a short distance, they assume 
 the form of a box girder. 
 
 At their intersections the principal rafters and the curved portions 
 of the ribs are connected by a cast-iron standard, which is continued 
 up above the ridge of the roof to a point 107 feet from the nave floor, 
 this being the level of the bed on which the dome ribs rest. 
 
 The large columns at the angles of the octagon are 2 feet in ex- 
 
AECHITECTUEE OF THE VICTOEIAN AGE. 
 
 16 
 
 ternal diameter, with -|ths of an inch of metal, and they are raised in 
 three lengths to a height of 95 feet, their ends being joined together 
 by flanges and screwed nuts on the inside. To fasten the bolts, a man 
 had to be lowered down inside the columns, the diameter of which is 
 just sufficient to give room to screw up the nuts. The columns are 
 thus kept perfectly smooth on the outside, and appear like one casting 
 95 feet long. To the top of each 2 feet column is bolted a cast-iron 
 stanchion 12 feet high, whose summit is therefore just 107 feet above 
 the nave floor. On the tops of these stanchions, and resting on 
 brackets, a gallery 3 feet wide is carried round the outside and inside 
 of the drum. It is not, however, accessible to the public, but only 
 serves as a means of access to the dome and to the louvres which are 
 here placed for ventilation. To the upper side of the gallery, and 
 through it to the stanchions, the double wrought-iron tie-plate, acting 
 as the dome’s hoop, is securely bolted. It consists of an inner plate 
 of iron 6" x §", which is connected with an outer plate 10" x §", so 
 that both these plates take the thrust of the dome. The dome, ribs 
 are bedded on the top of them, with their feet bolted through to the 
 heads of the stanchions. 
 
 Each dome rib is an iron girder made of boiler plate and angle 
 iron. The top and bottom flanges are nearly equal in section—the 
 former being 19§, the latter 20f square inches. There is no con¬ 
 tinuous web between the two flanges, but they are joined at 8 feet 
 intervals by two pieces of boiler plate having a 3" wood spacing piece 
 between. The first seven feet of each rib is vertical, and the girder is 
 here 3l> feet deep. At the summit of the vertical portion, which is 
 114 feet above the nave floor level, is the springing line. The top 
 flange follows the curve traced by a radius of 91' 9the centre being 
 a point 12' 3 T 3 ff ” beyond the centre of the dome; the bottom flange 
 forms a curve whose radius is 90' If", and centre 14' 0^" beyond the 
 dome’s centre. 
 
 The two flanges thus come nearer to each other as they approach 
 the apex, where they are only two feet apart. This point is 91 feet 
 above the springing line, and the ribs meet there, abutting against a 
 cast-iron pipe, to which they are bolted. 
 
 Eight wrought-iron purlins between the springing and the apex are 
 bolted to the ribs, and the two lower divisions thus formed are cross- 
 braced, to make the whole as rigid as possible—the bracing being 
 carried down to the points over the groins, so as to partially relieve 
 them of the weight they would otherwise have to carry. The purlins 
 are formed of two pieces of f -iron, joined together at 6-feet intervals 
 by a half-inch plate. They vary in section, decreasing as they approach 
 the summit; and those in the larger triangles are slightly heavier, on 
 account of their longer bearing. The first purlin, of a large triangle, 
 is 1' 8jA" deep, and its X-iron flanges are 3j" x 3|" x J". The upper 
 purlin has a continuous web plate 10-J-|" deep, with top and bottom 
 flanges of L'i ron > 2" x 2" x 1". 
 
 These dimensions are altered in a small triangle, the depth of the 
 lower purlin being 1' 8j-f", and the X -iron 3 " x3*x|"j the upper 
 purlin is here 11" deep, and the L'i ron is the same as before. 
 Wrought-iron sash-bars to carry the glass are rivetted to the purlins 
 every eighteen inches, every fifth bar being made sufficiently heavy to 
 assist in the cross bracing and prevent the purlins from twisting. 
 
 The crown of the dome, for about thirty-two feet down, has an orna¬ 
 mental zinc covering, but the whole of the remainder is glazed. From 
 the apex rises the finial to a height of 60 feet, resting on a concave 
 base, which, being ornamented with brackets, windows, and mouldings, 
 is terminated by a globe surrounded by three great circles, from the 
 top of which rises a gilded pinnacle. 
 
 Clerestory windows, on a level with those of the nave, are continued 
 round the drum of the dome ; panels above these reach to the gallery 
 level, which has an iron railing all round. 
 
 These domes are the largest that have ever yet been executed. Their 
 exterior diameter is 160 feet; the dome of St. Peter’s is 157 A feet, and 
 that of St. Paul’s 112 feet. But although the largest in every way 
 that have yet been constructed, they will not rise to so great a height 
 above the ground as those with which they have been compared. The 
 Exhibition domes spring from a height of 114 feet, which makes the 
 top of the finial 260 feet above the ground, while the cross on St. 
 Peter’s is 434 feet, and that of St. Paul’s 340 feet above the pavement. 
 
 An account of the domes would be incomplete without some de¬ 
 scription of the scaffolds on which they were raised. These were 
 literally forests of timber, occupying nearly the whole of the interior 
 of the domes, cross-braced and bolted together in every possible way, 
 so as to give them sufficient strength to bear the weight of iron in 
 each dome, amounting to 120 tons. 
 
 Each scaffold was carried up in eight different stages, with hori¬ 
 zontal beams between; the central portion was a square of 24 feet, 
 rising to a height of 200 feet, having each stage cross-braced vertically. 
 From the centre radiated a scaffold into each triangle of the dome, to 
 which it was in shape similar, though not quite so large. These 
 radiating scaffolds had independent vertical bracing, while at each stage 
 they were cross-braced horizontally, and connected with the central 
 scaffold as well as with each other. The main timbers were from 14" 
 to 12" square, and the cross braces averaged 12" x 6". This work was 
 executed by Mr. Clemence, the contractors’ clerk of works, and must 
 be considered a clief-d’ceuvre in scaffolding, being of immense strength, 
 and so skilfully constructed, that very little of the timber was spoiled 
 by cutting, so that when taken down every particle of wood used 
 (amounting to 40,672 cubic feet in each scaffold) was as available for 
 any other work, as if it had just come from the builder’s yard. They 
 were completed in eight weeks, and every beam in them was hoisted 
 by the steam winch already described, without the aid of which they 
 would have required at least double the time, and been far more costly 
 to execute. 
 
 THE ANNEXES. 
 
 Having now gone through the various portions of the permanent 
 buildings, let us proceed to the Annexes or temporary buildings ad¬ 
 joining the Exhibition. 
 
 The plan of having detached buildings for machinery is a great im¬ 
 provement on the 1851 Exhibition, where everything was under the 
 same roof; for, admirably arranged and ventilated as that building 
 was, yet the smell of oil and grease inseparable from machinery 
 occasionally intruded itself on those who were examining objects which 
 might have been expected to afford an exemption from that un¬ 
 pleasantness. 
 
 The western annexe is 975 feet long; for a length of 720 feet it is 
 200 feet wide, the remaining 255 feet being 150 feet wide. The east 
 side is enclosed by the back wall of the west arcade of the gardens; 
 and the west side, which adjoins the road, has a plain lath and plaster 
 front. It is covered by a ridge and valley roof, supported on most 
 ingeniously-constructed light wooden ribs of 50 feet span, placed at 
 intervals of 15 feet. These ribs are similar in construction to those 
 of the nave—that is, they are formed of planks nailed together—but 
 they are very much lighter. The circular portion springs at a height 
 of 10 feet from the ground line. Its elevation is nearly half of a 
 regular polygon, described about a semicircle whose diameter is 
 
 50 feet; it consists of three planks 9 inches wide; the centre plank is 
 If inch thick, and has nailed to it on either side a f-inch plank, 
 the ends arranged so as to break joint regularly all through. The 
 principal rafters, which are composed of two f-inch planks, rise from 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 17 
 
 TRANSVERSE SECTION OF ARCH OF ANNEXE. 
 
 Detail of Valley Gutter. 
 
 e 
 
 W 
 
 m 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 
 Section at A B. Elevation between Span of Ribs, 
 
 showing Divisional Bays. 
 
 a height of 28 feet above the ground, and meet above the curved ribs, 
 so as to make the ridge 5 feet above the crown of the arch. The 
 upright, which has its foot morticed into a sleeper resting on piles, 
 is formed of 1 j-inch centre plank, with a |-inch plank on 
 each side, having a strengthening piece 4" x 3" spiked to it on either 
 side, to prevent its bending. The principal rafter and upright are 
 connected with the rib by radial pieces of 1^" plank, which are brought 
 rather below the intrados of the curve, and finished off for the sake of 
 ornament by a spear head. The roof frames are therefore merely 
 planks nailed together, and so disposed that their weight comes on 
 their edge. One half of the roof is covered with boards and felt, and 
 the other half has a glazed skylight with louvres for ventilation 
 throughout the whole length. The span of each rib being 50 feet, in 
 the 200 feet width there are four spans, and in the 150 feet three. 
 
 The west annexe is devoted to the exhibition of machinery in 
 motion, for which purpose steam pipes, water pipes, and shafting are 
 led through it. There is a boarded floor all through, but the heavy 
 machinery is of course bedded on the ground, independent of the 
 floor, which is only used for passages. The entrance to it is through 
 the north end of the west transept, from whence the successive ribs of 
 the roof afford a beautiful perspective view from end to end, and 
 produce a singularly light and elegant effect. 
 
 The superficial extent of the west annexe is 184,000 square feet, 
 or about 4^ acres; it is of itself a perfect exhibition of its kind, and 
 contains the most ingenious mechanical contrivances of this inventive 
 age. To a mechanical mind this will doubtless be the most interesting 
 section of the Exhibition, for here will be grouped alongside each 
 other, performing their several offices, the most cunningly devised 
 machines in the world. What endless occupation and suggestive 
 thought will a careful comparison of them give rise to! 
 
 The building itself is worthy of its contents, for in ingenuity, 
 economy, and simplicity, it is allowed to be a triumph of construction. 
 It requires no framing; any person of ordinary intelligence, able to 
 drive a nail, could construct the ribs, which have nothing in them but 
 nails and sawn planks. Each rib was made in a horizontal position, 
 over a full-sized drawing, marked on a platform, and when complete 
 hoisted vertically by means of a derrick. To prevent it from bending, 
 which from its extreme thinness it was very liable to do, it was stif¬ 
 fened while being raised by having scaffold-poles tied across the angles, 
 1 
 
 Section at B C. 
 
 which themselves formed the scaffolding for finishing the roof. The 
 frames are braced together at the top of the uprights, and the ribs are 
 strutted from the wall plate to prevent buckling. 
 
 The rain-water is let off by pipes, attached to every third rib, to 
 drains under the floor. Full details of this shed are given in the 
 sketch, which will, we trust, completely show its construction. These 
 roof-frames were first of all used in the roof of a drill-shed designed 
 by Captain Fowke two years ago for the 1st Middlesex Engineer 
 Volunteers, at South Kensington. The span of this is 40 feet, and 
 the boards are even lighter than in the annexe roof. The roof of the 
 entrance to the Horticultural Society’s Board-room was the next made, 
 and its ribs are of exactly the same dimensions as in the machinery 
 shed, except that in the latter they are stilted up six feet higher, and 
 are 15 feet apart instead of 10 feet. 
 
 It has since been copied in several Volunteer and other sheds, and it 
 is doubtless capable of very general application, whether used in 
 temporary or permanent buildings, for it can be made of any required 
 strength by merely increasing the planks. Its great advantage is the 
 absence of any bolting and framing. 
 
 The eastern annexe is exactly similar to the western in its con¬ 
 struction ; but by having a large open court, 350 feet by 100 feet, left 
 in it, its covered area is only 96,000 feet. Its total length is 775 feet, 
 and it is entered from the east transept by means of a covered com¬ 
 munication or tunnel under the porch of the Horticultural Gardens. 
 
 This annexe is intended for large agricultural implements and any 
 other heavy machines which do not require to be put in motion to 
 show them off. 
 
 Large metallurgic, mineralogical, and geological specimens, are also 
 placed here, and 30,000 square feet at the north end has been most 
 judiciously set apart for a third-class refreshment room. 
 
 LAYING OUT OF THE WORKS. 
 
 The laying out of the works was commenced on the 9th March, by 
 three independent agencies—Mr. Marshall on the part of the con¬ 
 tractors, while Mr. Wakeford and Sergeant Ilarkin, Royal Engineers, 
 acted for the Commissioners. 
 
 The greatest care had to be taken with the measurements, for the 
 slightest error would have thrown out the work considerably, and 
 have occasioned great difficulty in fitting the girders. In the three 
 
 D 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 separate measurements made, the mean variation was only . three- 
 eighths of an inch—a difference quite imperceptible in a piece of 
 ground 1200 feet by 600. A glance through any of the aisles will 
 show how accurately the work has been conducted, and whether they 
 are examined diagonally or on the square, the columns will be found 
 to range in line as perfectly as they would show on a plan. About 
 two weeks were occupied in making the measurements, so that the 
 building may be said to have been actually commenced in the begin¬ 
 ning of April, since when its progress has been uninterrupted and 
 rapid. 
 
 Too much praise cannot be given to the enterprising firms which 
 have executed this stupendous building. Commencing at a time when 
 the labour market was in a most unsettled state—when trades unions 
 did their utmost to induce strikes and discontent—they have had no 
 ordinary difficulties to contend with; still they have held bravely on 
 their course, and have now the satisfaction of seeing the work com¬ 
 pleted in time to enable England to keep her word with the world, 
 and celebrate the eleventh anniversary of the opening of the first of 
 International Exhibitions by inaugurating a second, which will, we 
 hope, be as successful as its predecessor. 
 
 Before his mind is absorbed by the varied contents of the Exhi¬ 
 bition, let the visitor pause and contemplate the vastness of the struc¬ 
 ture itself, and we venture to assert that when he remembers only 
 twelve months have been occupied in its construction, it will be as 
 striking an example of the pre-eminence of English skill, energy, and 
 resource, as any of the numerous objects which will subsequently 
 claim his attention. 
 
 Let us hope that the contractors will reap all the advantages they 
 deserve from their spirited undertaking, and that it will prove a re¬ 
 munerative one to them in every way. 
 
 It may, perhaps, interest some of our readers, and at the same time 
 give an idea of the size of the building, to state the quantities of the 
 materials used in its construction. There are upwards of 10,000,000 
 bricks, which were all supplied by Messrs. Smeed, of Sittingbourne. 
 Nearly all the cast-iron work was supplied by the Stavely Iron Works 
 in Derbyshire, and there are upwards of 4000 tons of this metal in the 
 building. As a proof of the excellence of the castings, it is only 
 necessary to state that out of the total quantity of girders proved, only 
 four were found unable to undergo the test of the hydraulic press. 
 
 There are 850 25-feet columns, equal in length to upwards of four 
 miles; and if the 1266 girders used were placed end to end they would 
 reach a distance of six miles. The wrought iron has been supplied by 
 the Thames Iron Company, the builders of the Warrior. This firm 
 has furnished all the iron for the domes, the groined ribs, the 50-feet 
 roofs, and the iron trellis girders which support them. The total quan¬ 
 tity of wrought iron in connexion with these parts amounts to 1200 tons. 
 
 The woodwork was executed partly at the works of Messrs. Lucas, 
 at Lowestoff, and partly at Mr. Kelk’s yard, at Pimlico; the former 
 prepared all the window sashes, &c., by machinery, and the latter con¬ 
 structed the ribs of the nave and transepts. Upwards of 1,300,000 
 superficial feet of floor had to be laid. There are 553,000 square feet 
 of glass used, equal to 12f acres, and weighing 247 tons. 
 
 The greatest care has been taken to have ample means at hand for 
 the prompt extinction of that enemy which is common to all buildings, 
 and of whose ravages we have recently had such fearful examples— 
 fire. Water, under pressure, has been laid on to every part of the 
 building, and is distributed by hydrants carefully placed on the ground 
 floor, the galleries, and the roof-flats. The water is supplied by the 
 West Middlesex Water Company, and will have a head varying from 
 200 to 100 feet. A nine-inch main traverses the building from west 
 to east, and from it 4-inch branch pipes are led in all directions to 
 supply the hydrants. As in 1851, there will always be a trained body 
 of men on the spot to attend to all arrangements for working the 
 hydrants, hoses, and engines; so that if unfortunately a fire should 
 occur, a few minutes will suffice to bring a powerful column of water 
 against any point. 
 
 In concluding this account of the building, we wish our readers to 
 bear in mind that, though we are impressed with the conviction of its 
 providing for the wants of the Exhibition better than any building has 
 hitherto, yet it must be allowed that very much remains to he done to 
 render it a complete and permanent edifice. We believe that no 
 building covering 24 acres, as this does, has ever been erected at so 
 low a cost as 430,000/. It is only at the rate of twopence per cubic 
 foot; the average rate for first-class dwelling-houses is Is. 4<L The 
 Houses of Parliament cost 3s. per cubic foot, and ordinary public 
 buildings may he taken at Is. to 9 d. per foot. It is hardly necessary 
 
 to point out how unreasonable are the animadversions on this building, 
 where economy has reigned paramount, in expecting that 1 1. should 
 do as much as Gl. or 81. in other cases. The building can only be 
 viewed as an utilitarian structure for the present. When the Exhi¬ 
 bition has succeeded, and the guarantors are free to deal with a surplus 
 —when another decennial Exhibition shall have further augmented 
 the available funds for its decoration—then we venture to hope that 
 the means and desire will not be found wanting to complete the work 
 now begun, and render it worthy of being the home of International 
 Exhibitions for future generations. 
 
 Decorations or the International Exhibition. 
 
 Mr. J. G. C ra.ce , to whom the task of decorating the Exhibition 
 bhif^ingwrai Entrusted by the Eoyal Commissioners, read a paper on 
 the subject before the Society of Arts, on the 9th of last month, from 
 which we select the following as illustrative of our plate of details. 
 Mr. Crace says :— 
 
 “ I confess that when I first saw this interior my heart quailed; 
 its general aspect was not encouraging; the day was damp and bleakly 
 cold; the rough polygonal arched principals and diagonal boarded 
 ceiling looked heavy and difficult to manage; the light from the cle¬ 
 restory windows fell in faint streams on the muddy road, that was then 
 the traffic way in the interior; masses of dark scaffolding, obstructing 
 the light from where the domes were then being erected, and the 
 various trials of colouring which had been already' made, one at least of 
 them by an able man, showed me that it would require very careful 
 consideration indeed before I should decide upon what style of decora¬ 
 tion to adopt. Do not let me be unjust, nor let my own apprehensions 
 as to a successful treatment of the decorations lead you to suppose 
 that I mean to reflect on the building itself. When I came quietly to 
 consider all the features of the construction, I found that those appa¬ 
 rently heavy principals only required to be properly treated in colour 
 to be sufficiently light; that they were also of most ingenious construc¬ 
 tion; that the proportion waspleasing; and that the light of the 
 clerestory windows was amply sufficient. I fear that many may have 
 seen the building under the same adverse circumstances that first pre¬ 
 sented it to my view, and have passed criticisms not so just as the 
 merits of the undoubtedly talented contriver of the building should 
 deserve. 
 
 “ Well, we are in the nave. How to decorate it P I had not too 
 much time to think, the work must be done; it was January the 23rd 
 when I received the authority' from the Eoyal Commissioners to assume 
 the decoration of the building with the entire responsibility of the 
 results, and the work was to be completed by March. 
 
 “ After careful consideration I decided that the general tone of the 
 roof must be light, and that the best colour would be a warm pale 
 grey; that the arched principals must be made to stand out clear from 
 the roof; that they must look well in a perspective of 800 feet; and 
 that they must not look heavy or confused as they approached each 
 other in the distance. No single colour would do, and after a pretty 
 stiff bit of reflection of twenty-four hours, I confirmed myself in my 
 opinion of what would be the most likely way of treating the prin¬ 
 cipals. 
 
 “ I have remarked that the form of these is polygonal. They are 
 in three thicknesses, the centres of the outer planks covering the joints 
 of the inner ones. 
 
 “ I considered that the form precluded the use of a continuous repeat 
 ornament; I therefore decided on following the form of the construction, 
 and adopted panellings of blue and red alternately, relieved by coloured 
 lines, intersected at the joints by circles of black, on which are gold 
 stars, and from these spring ornaments in vellum colour with green in 
 the filling, as shown in the coloured drawing. 
 
 “ Following out this arrangement I had a pattern painted on paper 
 of the full size of one of the principals, and it was fixed in its place 
 within a week from the time of my appointment; part of that identical 
 pattern is now in this room; it has never been altered, and thus 
 exactly it has been carried out throughout the roofs of the nave and 
 transepts. 
 
 “ Until the principals were coloured, it seemed to me that the thick¬ 
 nesses were lost; I wished to make the construction evident, and I 
 therefore coloured the two outer edges in chequers of black and vellum 
 colour, and the centre edge full red, As to the bracings above the 
 polygonal arches, I coloured them the warm wood-colour, with red or 
 blue coloured lines on the face, and the under thicknesses red. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 19 
 
 “ I have said that I decided on warm grey for the roof of nave. I 
 did so because it gave space and lightness; and on its surface I 
 introduced an upright scroll ornament in red, with gold, star-like 
 rosettes, sparingly introduced. My object in this ornament was to 
 raise the apparent pitch of the roof, and to relieve and warm the effect 
 of the grey. The horizontal purlines, on the contrary, I kept purposely 
 light, so as not to depress the rise of the roof, or interfere with or 
 confuse the effect of the principals. The ridge piece of the roof, in 
 itself comparatively small, I marked as strongly as possible, as the apex, 
 in black and vellum white, en chevronne; on each side I coloured a 
 margin of maroon red, and. a little below that a bordering of very 
 warm green, shaped to accord with the top scrolls of the red vertical 
 ornament, the green being relieved with rosettes of gold colour. At 
 the base of the slope of roof this green is again introduced in much 
 the same way, and the band of maroon also. Below this are the 
 clerestory windows. 
 
 “ The next important features in the nave are the iron columns, 
 supporting the principals as well as the galleries. These I have painted 
 pale bronze oolour, relieved with gold colour vertical lines. The capitals 
 are gilt; the grounds of the ornaments being picked in rich red or 
 blue alternately; the centre blocks of the columns are also coloured 
 red, with bands of blue, or, vice versa, the mouldings being gilt, and 
 the same style of colour is continued to the bases. The top plate above 
 the columns is painted bronze colour, relieved with light gold colour 
 ornament on the upper part, and a vitrnvian scroll in gold colour, with 
 a maroon red base on the lower part. 
 
 “ The gallery railings are light bronze colour, the rose, shamrock, 
 and thistle ornaments being partly gilt, and the whole backed with 
 deep red cloth. The plate under the gallery is painted oak colour, 
 relieved with deep brown interlaced ornaments. 
 
 “ I have kept the part below the line of arches purposely quiet in 
 colour, in order that the brilliancy and richness of the various articles 
 exhibited may not be interfered with. The roof, on the contrary, is 
 rather vivid in colour, to carry up, as it were, in some degree, the 
 gaiety of the scene below; and this will be still further sustained by a 
 series of banners of the various countries whose products are assembled 
 in this International Exhibition. 
 
 “ Much variety of opinion has been expressed at my introduction of 
 the vivid colours in the arched principals of the nave; but I think that 
 many who fancied it would look too powerful, will confess their surprise 
 at its comparatively quiet effect now that it is completed. The colours 
 being properly balanced, have neutralized each other. Most of you 
 probably know that blue, red, and yellow, in the proportion of three, 
 two, and one, when mixed with white, produce a grey, exactly the 
 same as the grey produced by mixing black and white. I will show 
 you. I take ultramarine blue three parts, vermilion two parts, and 
 chrome yellow one part. I mix them together—add some white—you 
 observe it is grey. I take some black and white, mix them, and 
 identically the same grey is produced. If you paint on a disc radiated 
 stripes of blue, red, and yellow, in proper proportions, and make the 
 disc revolve rapidly, you find grey produced, the same as if they were 
 stripes of black and white. The effect of the roof of the nave ex¬ 
 emplifies this theory. 
 
 “ I have heard it said by some that it would have been better to 
 have employed panellings of one colour instead of two to each principal, 
 and made the principals alternately blue and red; in my opinion they 
 would have been utterly disappointed; the striped contrasts would 
 have by no means given the softness, richness, and glow of the present 
 colouring. To convince myself, I, at one stage of the colouring, tried, 
 by fixing blue paper over the red panellings in one principal, and red 
 paper over the blue panellings of another, but the effect was not nearly 
 as good, and I was confirmed that the priuoiple I had adopted was the 
 right one. 
 
 “ You will find this principle of counterchanging colours adopted 
 in most of the decorations of the early masters, which abound in 
 Italy. Those decorations, so beautiful, so interesting, rich, glowing in 
 colour, full of fancy and taste in the ornament, the masses well 
 arranged, show the most perfect harmony everywhere, and are digni¬ 
 fied by often acting as the framework of the highest gems of art. 
 But I must not be led astray from my more immediate subject. 
 Having described the nave, I will now proceed to the domes which 
 rise at either end of it, and form a point of intersection with that 
 and the transepts. They are undoubtedly the main features of the 
 building. 
 
 “ In plan their form is dodecagonal, or twelve sided, but they are 
 made to assume the appearance of an octagon, because the arches 
 
 towards the nave and transept cross each other, and form a kind of 
 angular-arched opening of 85 feet span, the intermediate arches being 
 about 35 feet span. From the floor of the nave to the springing of 
 the domes is 114 feet, the total interior height to the crown of the 
 domes being about 200 feet. There are 12 main ribs to each dome, 
 meeting in a sort of ring plate, and thence eight of them carry on to 
 the centre. The crown of each dome has an ornamental zinc covering, 
 as explained in the drawing; all below this is glass. 
 
 “ My principal difficulty in carrying out the decoration of the domes 
 was, that I could see nothing of them. The scaffold formed a series 
 of solid stages or floors, through which it was impossible to view any¬ 
 thing ; and I confess I never could mount the ladders above 100 feet; 
 but even there the scaffolding was so thick that I could see nothing of 
 the top, and very little of the cornice, facia, and walls. 
 
 “ At last Mr. Ashton, the engineer, contrived to get for me an open 
 square box into which I got, and I was drawn up by means of his 
 beautiful little engine very pleasantly to the top; yet when I got 
 there the ceiling almost touched my head, so that I had no oppor¬ 
 tunity of judging beforehand of the effect of distance and light upon 
 my colouring, and I knew well that they were very formidable ele¬ 
 ments for consideration. The knowledge that the scaffold would be 
 taken down before I could possibly judge of the effect, and that when 
 once down I could never hope to touch my decoration again, caused 
 me many an anxious thought. 
 
 “ The plate will best explain the colouring adopted for the top of 
 the domes. The main ribs are painted bright red, with spaced black 
 and white at the edges, and a fine gold line up the centre spreads at 
 intervals of about four feet into lozenges and circles containing gilt 
 stars on a blue ground; where the main ribs reach the ring plate I 
 carry round the red, marking the points of intersection with black and 
 white ; thence the eight main ribs are painted deep blue, relieved with 
 red, gold, and black, until they meet in the centre pipe or pendant, 
 which is gilt bordered with red. The shaped covering, or umbrella, 
 as I am accustomed to call it, is painted light blue; gold colour and 
 gilt rays diverging from the centre and streaming a considerable way 
 down the blue, the shaped outline of which is bordered with red and 
 gold ornament. 
 
 “ In decorating the walls of the domes, the solid parts between the 
 arches, and the springing of the roof, it was necessary to consider the 
 probable effect of the great mass of light above, On the one hand it 
 was desirable to sustain it with sufficient strength of colour, on the 
 other it would be dangerous to make it too heavy. 
 
 “ The moulding of the cornice and facia are painted vellum colour, 
 very slightly relieved by gilding; the trusses are gold colour; the 
 facia between them is red, with a vellum patera; the soffit is green. 
 The broad facia below is painted blue, and on it is inscribed in gold 
 letters, three feet high, the exordium of David, in the 29th chapter of 
 the first book of Chronicles, ‘ Thine, 0 Lord, is the greatness, and the 
 glory, and the victory, and the majesty: for all that is in the heaven 
 and the earth is thineand ‘ O Lord, both riches and honour come 
 of thee, and thou reignest over all; and in thine hand is power and 
 might, and in thine hand it is to make great.’ 
 
 “ The large iron columns, which rise nearly 100 feet high, are 
 painted dark maroon colour, their capitals being richly gilt. The 
 panelling between the arches and the frieze is. painted in shades of red, 
 relieved by coloured lines; in the four broad compartments are in¬ 
 scribed, on dark green panels, Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; 
 below, on a circle, are the initials of those so beloved by us all— 
 Victoria and Albert. On the eight spandrils to the four main arches 
 are medallions, eight feet diameter, by Mr. Burchett, of the Ken¬ 
 sington School of Art, emblematic of Manufactures, Commerce, and 
 the various arts and sciences which lend their aid. These were 
 executed in an exceedingly short time, and, like all the rest of the 
 work, with no opportunity of judging how they would look in their 
 elevated situation. I hould add that round the red panelling is a 
 broad margin of sage-green, on which are stencilled pateras. The 
 moulding of the arches is painted vellum-colour, the top fillet being 
 gilt; and the face of them ornamented with vitruvian scroll in dark 
 colour. 
 
 “ The walls at the gable end of the nave and transept are treated 
 so as to recal the arched form of the principals. Under these a semi¬ 
 circular panel is formed of warm brown colour, bordered by a broad 
 blue margin, on which are gold stars. Inside the panels are written 
 the following sentences :— 
 
 “ On the east end of nave— 
 
 The wise and their works are in the hand of God.—Ecclesiastes, 
 chap. ix. ver. 1. 
 
 D 2 
 
20 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 “ On the east end of transept— 
 
 Alternately the Nations learn and teach.— Cowpeb. 
 
 “ On the south-east end of transept— 
 
 Each climate needs what other climes produce.— Cowpeb. 
 
 “On the west end of the building the sentences are in Latin, 
 being the part occupied by foreign exhibitors. At the end of nave is 
 written— 
 
 Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax. 
 
 “ At the north-west end of transept— 
 
 Domini est terra et plenitudo ejus. 
 
 “ At the south-west end of transept— 
 
 Deus in terram respexit et implevit illam bonis suis. 
 
 “ Inside these semicircular panels are a series of radiating panels, 
 painted maroon, and bearing the names of the various sciences and 
 arts which have affinity with the objects exhibited. The coloured 
 drawing will more directly explain what I have thus endeavoured to 
 describe. 
 
 “ I have mentioned that on either side of the nave extend the series 
 of courts roofed with glass. These admit of very limited decoration, 
 and the colouring I considered should be of a subdued and retiring 
 character. The objects exhibited are to be the show. 
 
 “ The brick walls which form the boundary on one side not being 
 dry, it was necessary to have a colour which would not be materially 
 affected by that circumstance. I adopted a quiet maroon colour, made 
 with Venetian red and purple brown. The columns are painted pale 
 bronze, relieved by gold colour. The skylight frames are painted 
 cream white, relieved by lines of red and blue alternately. Under 
 the galleries the ceilings are painted very light grey, the joists 
 cream-white, the bottom edges lined blue, and the girders lined 
 maroon red. 
 
 “ Nothing is so charming and so refreshing to the eye as an har¬ 
 monious arrangement of colours; they are ‘ like a sweet chord of 
 music to the sense.’ The hand of nature never errs, whether it brings 
 together scarlet and crimson, as in the cactus; scarlet and purple, as 
 in the fuchsia; yellow and orange, as in the calceolaria; or the colours 
 in the varied plumage of exotic birds — the harmony is always 
 beautiful, ever perfect. The laws of harmonious colouring are a 
 necessary part of the knowledge of the manufacturers of coloured 
 fabrics. 
 
 “ I will suggest a few contrasts. 
 
 1. Black and warm brown. 
 
 2. Violet and pale green. 
 
 3. Violet and light rose colour. 
 
 4. Deep blue and golden brown. 
 
 5. Chocolate and bright blue. 
 
 6. Deep red and grey. 
 
 7. Maroon and warm green. 
 
 8. Deep blue and pink. 
 
 9. Chocolate and pea green. 
 
 10. Maroon and deep blue. 
 
 11. Claret and buff. 
 
 12. Black and warm green. 
 
 Resuming our immediate subject, we will now return to the prin¬ 
 cipal staircase, which we passed on our entrance from the Cromwell- 
 road. The walls of the lower part of this staircase will be painted 
 maroon red, as a background for the statues, bas-reliefs, and other art 
 works which will be placed here. The upper part of the wall, or, 
 rather, space above the wall, will be enclosed by the various specimens 
 of stained glass. Arrived at the landing, we enter the centre vesti¬ 
 bule, from which we first gain the view of the magnificent range of 
 picture galleries, extending 500 feet on each side. This vestibule will 
 itself be filled with sculpture. The walls are coloured subdued red up 
 to the string course, above that they are sage green. 
 
 ” The picture galleries on the east side contain the collection of the 
 British, those on the west side the foreign schools ; in size and ar¬ 
 rangement they are exactly the same. The width of the galleries is 
 50 feet; the wall is 31 feet high, up to the cornice, from which springs 
 a deep cove supporting the centre light. 
 
 “ Many of the pictures to be exhibited having been painted many 
 years, it was essential to have a very low tone of colour for the walls ; 
 
 I adopted a sage green. When the colouring was partly done, and 
 there remained some of the white wall still uncoloured, it was thought 
 by many that the tone would be far too dark, and I mention this to 
 show how difficult it is to judge of effects of colour till all the parts 
 
 are complete. I never at present hear any fears expressed of the too 
 great depth of colour. The cornice is painted vellum colour with 
 maroon in the hollow, the ground of the cove is tinted of the same 
 hue as the walls, but much lighter. I have divided it into two com¬ 
 partments by upright margins in vellum colour, on which is stencilled 
 ornament on a deep ground; the compartments of green have mar¬ 
 ginal lines of maroon. The soffit is also vellum colour relieved by 
 stencil ornament in maroon, and the upper cornice is cream colour. 
 
 The end walls of the principal galleries are slightly decorated; 
 on either side of the arched entrance it is intended to place statues, 
 and therefore it was necessary to have a maroon-red panel background ; 
 this is carried up to the springing of the arch, and thence broken into 
 five concentric panels; above these are painted ornaments supporting 
 medallions, in which are inscribed the names of painters. 
 
 “ To show with what energy it was necessary to carry out the works, 
 I will mention that the whole of the picture galleries on the east side 
 were painted and decorated in five days. I was asked on Saturday if 
 my designs were ready—I decided the colours on Monday morning, 
 the work was commenced at mid-day, and completed mid-day the 
 following Saturday. 
 
 “ Having thus described to yon, very imperfectly I confess, the 
 decoration we have done, let me explain to you, briefly, how we did it. 
 It was indispensable, in all the designs for the decorations, that they 
 should be'so arranged as to be easy of execution ; that the important 
 principle of ‘ the greatest effect at the least cost,’ should be strictly 
 attended to. Therefore, all ornament bad to be done by stencilling, and 
 all the colouring on woodwork was to be done in distemper. What 
 the stencilling is I will explain presently. Distemper is a very ready 
 means of colouring surfaces, because one coat of it bears out and gives 
 a result more solid and more luminous than four coats of oil paint, but 
 it has the disadvantage of not being preservative like the last, and it 
 cannot be washed. Perhaps no one will ever discover the very rough 
 state of the principals of the roof of nave, which are simply saw- 
 cut, besides being blemished by the process of carting and lifting them. 
 The coat of distemper conceals all that. It is composed of whiting 
 and size, made of any tint required by adding the usual colours. 
 
 ‘ Stencilling is performed by cutting out the pattern required in 
 stout strong paper, which is then varnished over to strengthen and 
 preserve it; taking care also to leave proper ties to keep the pattern 
 together. I think that in the progress of the work more than 100 
 men must have been employed at this stencilling, out of whom, I have 
 i eason to believe, scarcely half-a-dozen ever did it before, and yet the 
 work has been very well executed, and reflects much credit upon all 
 those engaged upon it.” 
 
 LONDON STREETS. 
 
 Unlike the moralist and the philosopher, we traverse the Streets of 
 London unmindful of the restless ever-changing throng that perpetually 
 swarms and surges around us. Our thoughts are intent upon the long 
 lines, not of busy men and toiling horses, but of the buildings that 
 stretch away to the right hand and to the left, apparently in intermi¬ 
 nable succession. And yet we claim a fellowship with living sym¬ 
 pathies—for every one of those myriads of dingy bricks has been set 
 in its place by human hands; and the care and observation of men 
 like ourselves, and perhaps also their thoughts and feelings, have been 
 freely expended upon the production of all this vast maze of houses. 
 But our present concern is rather with their works than with the 
 builders of these London Streets. We are observing the Street Archi¬ 
 tecture of the metropolitan city, and our remembrance of the civic 
 architects and builders is only incidental to our inquiry. 
 
 The Streets of London have always conformed to the distinctive 
 character of each successive period of English history; and from age 
 to age they have retained a few lingering relics of bygone times. At 
 the present day the tale of Roman occupation is to be read by searching- 
 deep down amongst the foundations of the existing London. The 
 Norman and the Gothic architects have left for us occasional specimens 
 of their works above the surface. Their successors have followed their 
 example; and Wren and Inigo Jones have transmitted the archi¬ 
 tectural genealogy, through the stucco period of the Regency, to our 
 own eia. And now Victorian London is engaged in earnest upon the 
 woik of transformation into a new city, conformable with the spirit of 
 the age. 
 
 It will be our duty, month after month, to record and delineate the 
 progress made towards a new and better state of things, always availing 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 21 
 
 ourselves of the observations of those who, with keen artistic eyes and 
 a just appreciation of the useful and ornamental, are engaged in similar 
 studies with ourselves. On the present occasion we gladly avail our¬ 
 selves of the company of Mr. James Edmeston.* 
 
 “ The antiquary may experience a pang at the disappearance of the 
 old landmarks of history, and of spots hallowed by the footsteps of 
 those great in literature or art; but for the most part the lover of the 
 fine arts can afford to view these inroads at least without regret; occa¬ 
 sionally, indeed, he may find cause to grieve, but this is rather when 
 some object of beauty becomes lost or obliterated. For example, I 
 observed very recently that the old hall in Bishopsgate, built for Sir 
 John Crosby in 1471, interesting to the antiquarian as having been 
 the council chamber where Richard of Gloucester held his secret council, 
 and whence he ordered Hastings to the block, and worthy of notice 
 from the lover of art on account of its architecture, has at last descended 
 to fulfil the very ordinary purposes of a wine merchant’s cellar—a fate 
 which the handsome old hall hardly deserved, and which we must all 
 regret. That the old houses of the early part of the last century, with 
 their originally careful, but now more or less dilapidated, brickwork, 
 their window-frames flush with the face of the wall and fitted with 
 heavy sashes, wooden cornices and doorways (well designed though 
 those latter often were), should make way for modem structures, no 
 one need regret. The roofs of these buildings were often picturesque in 
 their outlines, but on the whole they had very little art about them 
 externally, and they did but prepare the way for the Harley and Baker 
 streets of more recent era, whose day, I trust, is gone for ever. 
 
 “ London, perhaps, has fewer remains of its former self than might 
 have been expected from its age and long and ever-growing prosperity 
 ■—though, in truth, it is this very prosperity which has had much to 
 do with the demolition of old buildings. Old London, unlike some of 
 the better preserved Continental cities, was built mostly of wood, 
 plastered over—liable, therefore, to decay, and quite unfit for many 
 purposes to which buildings of stronger construction might have been 
 applied when altered circumstances came, and which thus might have 
 been preserved. Buildings of stone walls and oak floors would have 
 made very good warehouses: not so the old half-timbered houses, with 
 their gabled fronts overhanging story beyond story. 
 
 “ London in many parts may certainly be called picturesque, full of 
 sites offering fine opportunities for effect. One part has grown out of 
 another, as occasion made necessary. No generally dominant idea can 
 be said to prevail; it has spread, and that to a most inconvenient 
 extent—unfortunately, not upwards, by which it might have become 
 a far finer city; but a great growth of area has taken place, adding 
 nothing at all to the general effect. The sites I allude to are not such 
 as Oxford-street or the Strand—broad, straight streets, which might 
 be flanked on either side by lofty buildings, with a predominance of 
 long, level cornices and lines in their composition, like the new Parisian 
 boulevards—but Holborn-hill, Ludgate-hill, Fleet-street, Cheapside, 
 Whitehall, Piccadilly, &c.—localities which, all of them, invite that 
 particular treatment which we find exemplified in the new buildings in 
 Bishopsgate-street, opposite Crosby Hall, a coacTibuilder’s premises 
 near the Park, in Piccadilly, and those very striking schools in 
 Bloomsbury, with others I might nameT Tn the situations above 
 named, how can the eye be satisfied unless there is a broken and well- 
 defined sky-line, a certain amount of irregularity, order within disorder, 
 in that which we call picturesque, an acceptance of every little difficulty 
 in order to clothe it with beauty and meaning ? 
 
 “ There is something so oppressive to the imagination if one pictures 
 sites like these as being rebuilt in the studied, carefully cut-up, divided, 
 and subdivided styles of Italian architecture, as practised in this day, 
 that one would almost rather they remained as now, with little or 
 nothing to boast of architecturally, as a whole; and let it be specially 
 borne in mind that you, who are not building houses yourselves in 
 these localities, may yet be able to influence others who do so. Every 
 building will become an item in the final result, and I know how often 
 everything is overlooked except mere utility—nay, more, that the 
 architect is often blamed if he is supposed to give much attention to 
 external appearance. 
 
 “ Writers in the public papers commonly speak of the architect as 
 being the ruling power in all cases. Indeed, he is no such thing, and 
 in the majority of instances he is obliged to give up many points 
 which he would far rather have maintained; and in many more cases 
 he knows beforehand that to attempt what his client would call wild 
 
 * See Paper read before the Society for the Encouragement of the Fine Arts, 
 April 10th, by Mr. James Edmeston. 
 
 vagaries, or pretentious display, or needless outlay, would lose him his 
 business, and soon compel him to retire, without even what the adver¬ 
 tisements call ‘ a moderate competency.’ Where there is an intentional 
 and studied effect visibly apparent, and the result of which is bad, of 
 course the architect should be blamed; but this is not the reason of 
 failure in the great majority of instances which excite adverse criticism. 
 If I see a design, in one part of which the architect has set his 
 thought, which he has filled with the impress of his own mind, where 
 he has ventured to indulge in some piece of good and effective design, 
 and has dared to introduce some judicious and well-studied ornament 
 —almost by stealth, as it were—I know I must absolve him from 
 blame if the rest of the design be bald and uninteresting, flat and 
 commonplace, or even in some aspect of proportion or arrangement 
 offensive. 
 
 “ In street architecture the surface decoration has, for the most part, 
 a secondary office to fulfil: the buildings are seen in a sharp perspec¬ 
 tive, and the projections, reveals, and soffits contribute most to the 
 effect, particularly bay windows or corbelled turrets, and an effective 
 treatment of the roof, which latter, I think, should not have too much 
 projection, but should cut well against the sky, and should obscure as 
 little as possible of the upward view; in street architecture especially 
 do the roofs play a most important part, both by the picturesque out¬ 
 line they may present, and by the more varied effects of light and 
 shade which they contribute w T here the light may fall. I cannot well 
 imagine any street ugly where there is a general harmony of main 
 lines, and a well-studied and picturesque treatment of the sky-line; 
 while I cannot imagine a plain row of houses looking very well, where 
 there may be an elaborate care bestowed in the treatment of the flat 
 surface, but which ends only with a plain level parapet, presenting one 
 never-varying effect against the sky, and throwing one dead shadow 
 on the opposite side. 
 
 “ In truth, the elements of good effect, if not of beatify, in street 
 architecture are much simpler than most people imagine. If the 
 main outlines and general proportions are good, if the architect’s 
 practised hand and trained eye have thrown the parts together with a 
 regard to fitness and simplicity, the absence of ornament and costly 
 decoration will hardly be felt at all—not that the capability to impart 
 this satisfying and happy result is the easy and early attainment of 
 the architect; on the contrary, it is, perhaps, one of the last things 
 he learns, for it is an easier matter to design an ornamental feature, 
 good in itself, than to know well beforehand, on the paper, how to give 
 the best effect to the masses of buildings in execution, where so 
 many extraneous causes may conspire to make or mar the success of 
 the composition. Grouping of the masses and telling outline against 
 the sky are certainly the main things to be observed. The building 
 erected opposite Crosby Hall, and before alluded to, is very ornamental 
 in its details, but if nearly all that ornament were dispensed with it 
 would still look almost as well; this may also be said of the new 
 ‘ Life’ offices in Bridge-street, Blackfriars, and of some of the new 
 hotels which have recently been erected: but for admirable outline, 
 balance of parts, and grand general effect, what can exceed St. Paul’s, 
 as seen from Ludgate-hill ? Is it the sculptured pediments or other 
 architectural enrichments which attract the eye, and fix the building 
 on the mind of the beholder ? or is it the towering magnificence of 
 the lofty dome, and the play of light and shade, the solidity and 
 repose, the breadth at once and the lightness of effect of the whole 
 composition ? I know of nothing to surpass the view obtained of the 
 Cathedral from the point above named. As the roof in Gothic archi¬ 
 tecture, so the dome and cupola is the great element of picturesque 
 treatment in Classic architecture; and it is partly, perhaps, because 
 roofs are more common and more useful than domes, and that lowness 
 of pitch will harmonize with Classic architecture and not with Gothic, 
 that the latter has gained so much in public favour. That the want 
 of a fitting accessory of this kind is felt and acknowledged is suffi¬ 
 ciently proved by the fashion lately set in, of making high and steep 
 sloped roofs with or without a flat top, and in this way Classic archi¬ 
 tecture redeems itself almost entirely from reproach in this respect. 
 I may instance the Tuileries as a striking proof of this; and among 
 ourselves we have many instances—the most recent, perhaps, is the 
 Duke of Buccleuch’s house, at VVhitehall-gardens, though whether the 
 feature here is treated altogether judiciously may be a question for the 
 critics. 
 
 “ Our street architecture is, upon the whole, lamentably deficient; 
 and when one really feels how wonderful the change would be if any 
 of our fine main thoroughfares could be remodelled with careful study 
 as to the roofs alone, it is impossible to help dwelling on the point, 
 
22 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 and very earnestly entreating all who can do so, to consider and to 
 advocate the subject as opportunity arises, the difficulties interposed by 
 the Metropolitan Building Act notwithstanding. 
 
 “ There is, however, another point in connexion with our street 
 architecture not easily to be dealt with, but which it would be most 
 desirable to control if it could be done, which is, that it constantly 
 happens that new buildings very much spoil one another, and very 
 needlessly; every man considering just exactly what he has before 
 him, and utterly ignoring what will exist on each side of his design 
 when executed. The result is most painful; moulding and cornice 
 are abruptly cut off, every feature is utterly at discord in each case 
 with the others; no pains even is taken to render the design complete 
 in itself, and the front looks as if it had been intended to be one of a 
 row, which, by some change of intention, was never continued. To 
 enumerate instances would be needless; every main thoroughfare ex¬ 
 hibits them, and strangers must be struck with this state of things as 
 a peculiarity of municipal management of a most extraordinary cha¬ 
 racter. 
 
 “ I fear no ordinary means are sufficient to cure this state of things. 
 In the present state of architectural feeling, while the battle of the 
 styles is either breaking out in open fury, or smouldering out of sight 
 and ready to break out, there is an habitual disregard of other than 
 personal feeling, and rather a delight in showing contempt for all work 
 of a different character brought into juxtaposition. It becomes, for 
 example, an article of faith to show as much as possible how the creed 
 professed by the disciple of Gothic architecture differs from that of the 
 Classic architect, who has been at work on the next plot of ground, 
 and vice versa, though perhaps the injury sustained is at least equal 
 to that inflicted. All this is wrong, and is perhaps at the present 
 moment the greatest bane of our street architecture, every integral 
 part destroying its neighbours as far as it can, whereas the study 
 should be to make the whole as perfect, as a whole, as possible. Now, 
 far be it from me to recommend that public censors should be esta¬ 
 blished in matters of art, or that there should be any additional legis¬ 
 lation in such matters; still I do think that some general rules might 
 be laid down applicable to our main thoroughfares, and which would 
 injure no one, interfere with no private rights, and which would suc¬ 
 ceed in reforming to some extent the present state of chaos. For 
 example, just as a certain line of front is established, let certain main 
 lines of elevation be fixed, which shall not be departed from; let the 
 height of the ground-floor stories be fixed,vthe line of the top of the 
 one-pair windows, the line, say, of the coping or finishing gutter, 
 leaving all above that free. Now, this would only so far control 
 designs as to enable the architect to show his talent, which would 
 enable him to keep these main lines as boundaries, while he would fill 
 up between them as suited the requirements of the work in hand. He 
 might in the interval have fewer or more stories than his neighbour, 
 he might divide them differently, and an absence of all sameness would 
 be secured ; but there would be just so much control over the ensemble 
 as would tend to promote a general harmony of effect. And if, instead 
 of every man cutting off his projections ruthlessly just where the 
 centre of his party-wall may come, he was compelled, in a give-and- 
 take way, to return and finish them properly, while the lines of one 
 composition were made either to lead out of those already established 
 or else to be made properly distinct, I can believe that a great gain in 
 our architecture would be accomplished, while there would be as much 
 freedom as there is now. A government or a municipal body has 
 something to answer for in this respect. What shall be said if the 
 re-arrangement of the new Government offices at Whitehall is not 
 complete as a whole, every part helping every other part? How 
 admirably is this carried out in the capital to which we have before 
 referred. I think it is a disgrace to our ‘ local management’ that 
 the beauty of our city is not cared for in its several districts as well 
 as the cleanliness, and I believe it might practically be done. 
 
 “ Many new streets and approaches are now being laid out, some 
 of the most important relating to the Thames embankment, and now 
 is the time for making some effort in this direction. The present 
 Chief Commissioner, Mr. Cowper, I am able to say, is most ready to 
 listen to suggestions; and when a deputation waited upon him some 
 weeks back to point out the desirability of laying out the new streets 
 so as to lead off to many points, and to gain the best advantage for 
 existing buildings, as well a3 to open the view to new buildings in the 
 best way, he requested the Institute of Architects to appoint a small 
 committee to bring into form and to discuss these very questions, with 
 a view to insuring the best attention to them. And this state of 
 things—the representative of the Government, working with the 
 
 representatives of the lovers of art in carrying out great public im¬ 
 provements—is an encouraging guarantee that wisely-directed efforts 
 will not be made in vain. 
 
 “ London is not a ‘ show city’—not a place of European resort for 
 pleasure and gaiety—but the great banking-house of the wide world, 
 the busy mart of the universe, too much taken up hitherto with con¬ 
 templation of its own growing prosperity, with very little care of 
 external appearances, like a rich merchant, who, well knowing the 
 filled coffers at his banking-house, cares very little for the threadbare 
 appearance of his outward garb; yet there are spots which the busy 
 citizen daily treads without observation, but which may well arrest 
 the stranger, and must not be passed without remark. 
 
 “ What can be more striking than the views of the great city from 
 some of the bridges as you approach from the southward, especially 
 London and Blackfriars bridges ? Walk up Ludgate-hill, stand at 
 almost any point about the Exchange, or in Holborn, where you can 
 take in the view of the rising hill and some part of the broad road¬ 
 way beyond; stand where the several great thoroughfares meet at 
 the northern end of London-bridge, or look upward from the lower 
 ground as you approach its southern end; and while from many of 
 these positions you will see examples of architecture of which any 
 country might be proud, mixed with buildings of the commonest cha¬ 
 racter, and in the worst taste; you will, if you can look with the 
 unaccustomed eye of the stranger, forgetting for the moment how 
 constantly you tread these spots intent upon anything rather than 
 giving them the least attention, you will see much to admire, much 
 to be struck with as a whole; you will be conscious of a general im¬ 
 pression as powerful as any you ever experienced when looking for 
 the first time on great cities in other lands, and the imagination of 
 the artist will find ideas the most suggestive and varied,” 
 
 ON THE CONSTKUCTION OF A SICK KOOM* 
 
 Every person who is able to erect his own dwelling should contem¬ 
 plate the probability of himself or those dear to him being at some 
 time or other afflicted with sickness, or the subject of accidents, and 
 should so prepare one apartment as to be most appropriate to that 
 condition. When thus properly prepared and furnished, it may be 
 commonly used as a bedroom. 
 
 Such an apartment should, where practicable, be so placed as to have 
 only one end or side on the outside of the house, where the window is 
 situated. The larger the room the better, if, in proportion to its size, 
 conveniences for warming are added. If more than one side is 
 towards the open air, the external walls should not be less than 14 
 inches thick, but 18 or even 21 inches is better. If of brick or stone, 
 the inside should be rendered with Parian cement instead of ordinary 
 plaster, which absorbs noxious gases and organic matter. The ceiling 
 of panelled wood or well-matched boards stained of a light colour, and 
 not painted. The Parian cement requires no paint. When a room 
 is already built with ceiling and walls of plaster, the whole should be 
 painted in a uniform light colour, or papered with a plain light satin 
 paper without pattern. In fevers or nervous disorders, figures and 
 patterns on the paper give rise to illusions which harass the patient 
 and often prevent sleep. 
 
 The floor should be of oak with well-fitted joints, either dove-tailed 
 or united with iron-hooping or plates slid into grooves in the edges of 
 the boards. A strong cement, like marine glue, may be substituted for 
 this, but not ordinary carpenter’s glue. The joints and crevices of 
 floors already laid may be filled with marine glue or cement, and the 
 same should be done with crevices in the skirting. 
 
 The window or windows should be of plate-glass, the sashes opening 
 both from above and below; they should be well-fitted, so as not to 
 rattle in the wind, have box-shutters and good fastenings of such a 
 kind as to require a key. In delirium, from fever or other causes, 
 patients not unfrequently, in the momentary absence of an attendant, 
 get out of the window. We should also recommend that on the outside 
 a second window, flush with the outer face of the brickwork, should be 
 added. This should be a French casement, opening like a pair of 
 folding-doors, be well hinged, and when folded back against the wall, 
 protected by a small fixed cornice. These outer windows may 
 seldom be needed, but contingencies arise where they may save a 
 patient’s life. 
 
 A sudden fall of the barometer betokening the approach of a storm, 
 shows us how great a change, inappreciable to the senses, takes place 
 
 * From Household Medicine, by John Gardner, M.D. Smith and Elder. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 23 
 
 in the atmosphere, and this change is often enough to extinguish life 
 when enfeebled by disease, particularly of the lungs. It would be 
 interesting to collect the recorded instances of storms coinciding with 
 the death of lingering invalids ; we have noticed many. 
 
 To return to the inner window. The bars should not be less than 
 two inches thick. Between the sash and shutter a groove, formed by 
 two fillets, should be made to receive a gauze blind, strained on a 
 frame, and from one-third to half the size of the whole window. As 
 an open window is the best expedient for the ingress of fresh air, when 
 the upper sash is drawn down, this gauze blind should be up so as to 
 cover the opening. It admits the air, hut excludes smoke and dust; 
 when the gauze becomes choked (and it will both occasion surprise and 
 prove the importance of this precaution to observe how soon this will 
 happen, particularly in large towns), the gauze should be removed. 
 
 If there is one window only in a room, or if there are two or more, 
 they should be so placed as to allow a bedstead to stand by the side, 
 so as not to overlap the window space. When there is a choice, the 
 aspect of the windows should be towards the north; but what is far 
 more important, they should overlook a cheerful prospect—a garden 
 or green fields. 
 
 The chimney should also be in the middle of a wall, wide and high. 
 
 If every other chimney-shaft in the house is neglected, that of the 
 sick-room should be carefully plastered throughout the inside with 
 good materials and a mixture of cement or plaster-of-Paris. 
 
 The ordinary pargetting is apt to crumble down after rains or frost; 
 and we have known this to become a great annoyance to both sick and 
 healthy persons, disturbing their rest and rousing them from their first 
 sleep, to spend a long and sleepless night. 
 
 The chimney-shaft is the outlet for the egress of the air of the 
 chamber, and with a fire is the best and indeed only successful venti¬ 
 lating apparatus yet invented. It has been suggested that the opening 
 into the chimney should be high, on the assumption that a low chimney 
 breast only serves to draw the air from the lower stratum in the room, 
 leaving the large body of air above to remain unchanged, or rather to 
 become contaminated by the products of combustion and breathing, so 
 that a person standing or even lying in bed, breathes this foul air over 
 and over again. 
 
 If a room is moderately lofty—say ten or twelve feet—this incon¬ 
 venience will scarcely happen; the current through the fireplace up the 
 chimney, aided by a natural law of interpenetration of airs and gases, 
 soon renews the contents of the room— i.e., supposing fresh air in 
 proper quantity finds admission. This may be readily proved by 
 burning a piece of paper, or otherwise producing a visible smoke above 
 the chimney breast. This difficulty about ventilation, however, may 
 be entirely obviated by an opening constructed between the top of the 
 fire-grate and the mantelpiece, and covering it with an open-work iron 
 panel. 
 
 Another valuable adjunct to the chimney is obtained by carrying 
 up an air-shaft by its side, in the brickwork; or, wbat is better, 
 running up an air-flue, or tube of iron plates, jointed into the brickwork, 
 is a very good plan. In any case it should have two openings into 
 the chamber, both commanded by a valve or cover. One of these 
 should be placed above the mantel—say about eighteen inches, so as to 
 be readily reached—the other at the ceiling. 
 
 The fireplace should be an open grate of a good size, and rather 
 low; no obstruction should ever be placed in the chimney throat to 
 check the free flow of the air upwards. When gas is obtainable, the 
 sick room should be fitted for this fuel; the grate filled with lumps of 
 asbestos, or the coarse graphite obtainable at the gas-works, and 
 numerous jet* of gas playing upon these, make a cheerful fire, giving 
 out great heat; not easily at first sight distinguishable from an ordi¬ 
 nary coal fire. It possesses many advantages. It is kindled in an 
 instant, increased or diminished at pleasure, requires no fireirons or 
 supply of coals; and hence the noises attending on keeping up a fire 
 are wholly avoided. It does not require the ordinary stove to be 
 removed. 
 
 The chimney should be as open for this as for any other fire, in order 
 that all the products of combustion should pass up with the current of 
 air created by the flame. In this way all the objections commonly en¬ 
 tertained against the admission of gas into bedrooms are obviated. It 
 is quite a different thing in this respect to a gaselier without ventila¬ 
 tion. The only valid objection to the gas grate is its expense. To 
 warm a small room five hundred cubic feet of gas will be consumed 
 in a day, and double that quantity will not more than suffice for a 
 large room in the winter to burn night and day. 
 
 The gas grate of which we have been speaking must not be con¬ 
 
 founded with the gas stove. These, as they are commonly constructed, 
 are highly objectionable in the sick room ; the burning gas heats an 
 iron plate, and this radiates and heats the air of the apartment. If, 
 however, a gas stove is constructed on correct principles, so that all 
 the products of combustion, and a strong current of air with them, 
 are carried up a chimney, and the metallic case, which is heated by the 
 flame, is so enclosed in an outer case or jacket, that the latter is heated 
 only by hot air, and radiates a modified heat into the room, there is no 
 apparatus so perfect for maintaining for a long period a perfectly uni¬ 
 form temperature. Such a gas stove may be made of sheet iron at a 
 small expense; the consumption of gas is small comparatively, and if 
 from eight to ten feet of piping is attached to it and carried up a 
 chimney, its action will be perfect. It will not only warm but ventilate 
 the apartment, and will prove invaluable for cases of prolonged indoor 
 confinement, particularly in asthma, dyspnoea, chronic bronchitis, and 
 consumption. We have known patients for whom a warm climate 
 would have been prescribed, but who could not avail themselves of it, 
 shut up for a whole winter in apartments warmed by a stove of the 
 above description, and perfectly recover. 
 
 The door of the sick room should be fully two inches thick, hung 
 on the best rising hinges, and fitted with good furniture, acting without 
 noise. A second, or dumb door, swinging in the opposite direction, 
 and covered with baize, should be included, in order effectually to shut 
 out noises made by the household. 
 
 The fitting close of the doors is not of much moment. If air 
 enough does not find its way in, an opening, or, what is better, several 
 openings, fitted with slides to shut them at pleasure, should be provided 
 over the entrance-door and by its side. 
 
 The additional cost of these arrangements beyond that of an ordi¬ 
 nary apartment is too trifling to be worth consideration. 
 
 PROFESSOR SMIRKE’S LECTURES. 
 
 A series of Lectures on Architecture, by Professor Smirke, has just 
 been concluded at the Royal Academy. They were commenced on the 
 9th of January, and terminated on the 3rd April. The learned Pro¬ 
 fessor has taken a very wide survey of his subject; and although our 
 space will not permit us to report him fully, still the matter is upon 
 the whole so excellent, that we shall present the gems of each lecture 
 separately. 
 
 Lecture I. 
 
 ART AND ARCHITECTURE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTCEY. 
 
 Early in the seventeenth century an Italian writer, Teofilo Gallaccini, 
 composed a treatise of some ingenuity and merit, “ On the Errors of 
 Architecture and certainly he succeeded in bringing together a mass 
 of architectural errors (horrors, I might say), so shocking as to reflect 
 no small discredit on the practitioners of his day. That day, it is 
 true, was one of great darkness in his art. By an unfortunate 
 accident it coincided with the date of the greatest activity, influence, 
 and wealth of the followers of Ignatius Loyola, when churches and 
 seminaries arose in great profusion over a large part of Christendom; 
 hence that era was then and still remains distinguished from all pre¬ 
 ceding and succeeding times by the prevalence of perhaps the worst 
 architecture that has yet been devised by human ingenuity. Not that 
 the Jesuit’s style of architecture, as it has been called, may not be 
 admitted to be sometimes picturesque and bold,—so much so, indeed, 
 as to he occasionally most theatrical in its effects ; but so entirely were 
 all the rules of composition, I should almost say of common sense, 
 ignored and outraged,—so entirely was the sober truthfulness of our 
 art disregarded,—that I feel satisfied that I am confining myself to 
 strict truth when I say that to the society founded by Loyola our art 
 owes indirectly more of its degradation and decay than to any other 
 school or individual whatever. Of course, I do not impute personally 
 to himself any influence over the style which the buildings I refer to 
 tended to propagate : I only regard him as the founder of a religious 
 society, who became the unconscious instruments of establishing a 
 vicious school of architecture at a very unfortunate epoch of archi¬ 
 tectural activity. The author to whom I have above adverted had the 
 great merit of seeing more clearly than his contemporaries the faults 
 of contemporary art; and he deserves to be recorded among our 
 worthies for his boldness in contending against the monstrous errors 
 and absurdities that had sprung up with a luxurious rankness and 
 rapidity which are really remarkable. 
 
 The very commencement of the sixteenth century, namely, the age 
 of Bramante, of Raflaelle, of Peruzzi, and Giulio Romano, was, as I 
 
24 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 have on a former occasion shown, in many respects worthy of being 
 regarded as the culminating period of modern architecture; and the 
 end of that same century saw the art, if not at its lowest ebb, at all 
 events in a state of deplorable impurity. It is an old remark that all 
 evil is but the corruption of what is good; and it seems to be in the 
 nature of a law that no sooner has a point of excellence been reached 
 than a process of deterioration commences. Fortunately, there would 
 appear to be a co-existent law of social adjustment; for no sooner have 
 we reached a state of apparently hopeless and helpless imbecility, than 
 a glimpse of better things appears to restore our hopes and to redress 
 the balance. The course, in short, of most human affairs, may be 
 correctly represented in a diagram by a series of anticlinal lines, per¬ 
 sistent in their ever-varying irregularity. 
 
 Such, at all events, appears to have been the course of our art. The 
 great effort of the distinguished artists whom I have named appears to 
 have been—first, to make themselves thoroughly acquainted with the 
 principles which guided the architects of the great Classic period, and 
 then to devise such departures from the style of that period (still, 
 however, adhering to the principles on which that style was founded) 
 as would enable them to adapt their structures to the greatly altered 
 habits, and to the new civilization, of their own days. 
 
 There can be little difference of opinion among us as to the con¬ 
 summate genius and wonderful dexterity with which these modifi¬ 
 cations of the ancient manner were effected. Perhaps one of the most 
 prominent modifications was the introduction of a regular fenestration, 
 by which that essential feature, the window, was so treated as to 
 render it a fertile source of beauty and interest. It is true, evidences 
 are abundant to prove that, whatever may have been the case in still 
 earlier times, windows, with their architraves and other somewhat 
 ornamental adjuncts of like nature, were a recognised feature in 
 Roman architecture ; but I am aware of no ancient building having 
 its various floors marked by uniform ranges of windows as decorated 
 features, such as we find especially characterizing the architecture of 
 the Renaissance. 
 
 Another source of beauty, wholly unknown to Classic art—namely, 
 the balustrade—is also due to the originality and inventive genius of 
 the quatro-centists; and it is curious to note the avidity with which 
 artists learned to avail themselves of this novel and ingenious mode of 
 turning so prosaic and utilitarian an object as a parapet into an orna¬ 
 ment of great sesthetic value. 
 
 The systematic superposition of several regular orders was another 
 practice particularly affected in renascent architecture. It had, indeed, 
 been suggested by the magnificent amphitheatres of the Romans, as 
 well as by a rare instance or two of still earlier date, but was certainly 
 not practised by that people generally, either in temples or in their 
 domestic buildings. I have enumerated some of the more prominent 
 characteristics of Italian art which stamped it with originality, and 
 gave birth to a school as widely differing from the primitive, strictly 
 Classical school, as from the Mediaeval school, which it supplanted. 
 
 Such was architecture at the beginning of the sixteenth century in 
 Italy, then the instructress of Europe in the fine arts, as well as in 
 most other branches of intellectual culture. 
 
 To inquire why art decayed after it had arrived at a point of great 
 excellence is, perhaps, equivalent to inquiring why genius is erratic, 
 why we are unstable in our judgment, and why human fancy is like 
 the fabled bird of Paradise, that exists only when on the wing. 
 
 Had the men who followed the bright period to which I have ad¬ 
 verted been plodders on the highway of art, without soul or invention; 
 and content to follow with painful exactness the footsteps of their pre¬ 
 decessors ; we might, perhaps, have seen an age of good imitators, and 
 of a level platitude; a race of tame transmitters of the excellence of 
 others, productive of a perpetual repetition of approved forms and 
 established models. 
 
 But very far otherwise was the case. Art, in all its branches, 
 throughout the sixteenth and even the seventeenth century, was in a 
 state of excitement and activity. Vasari, writing in the middle of the 
 sixteenth century, vaunted that such was the fecundity of art and 
 facility of execution in his time, that six pictures could then be painted 
 within the time occupied by the previous generation of painters on a 
 single picture. The simple-minded historian of art seems to have 
 been hardly aware that his vaunt implied rather reproach than praise; 
 although it is true he has elsewhere amused his readers by the anecdote 
 of an eminent painter who, at his easel, when called to his meal, replied 
 that he would come directly, “ for he had but one saint more to 
 paint.” 
 
 The real laborious artists of the fifteenth century wrought, no doubt, 
 
 slowly and painfully—urged onwards not so much by a thought of 
 lucre or applause, as by a deeply-felt love of their art; whilst the 
 flattering crowd of artists who filled the scene in later times were the 
 spoilt children of fortune; painting and carving and building with 
 wonderful dexterity and readiness of execution, it is true; and with a 
 wonderful facility of invention in devising new shapes and fashions 
 and fantastical combinations; but without that earnest, ardent, pains¬ 
 taking, and simple severity of study which had conducted their fore¬ 
 fathers to real excellence. 
 
 By way of illustrating the vast change that had taken place during 
 the sixteenth century, let us compare the works of Bramante, who 
 flourished at the beginning of that century, with those of Borromini, 
 who was born at the end of it. I have on a former occasion dwelt on 
 the peculiar merits of Bramante. His was a pure, honest architecture, 
 perfectly free from affectation and conceits of any kind whatever. His 
 style appears to me to be all the more captivating from the very absence 
 of all ad captandum contrivances, and all the more effective from its 
 manifest freedom from all seeking after effect. 
 
 If we turn from him to Borromini, we shall be shocked to see what 
 devastation and corruption of taste had taken place during the one 
 hundred intervening years. 
 
 The one sought to charm by his purely architectural feeling; aiming, 
 for the most part, at those high qualities—order, symmetry, and rhyth¬ 
 mical arrangement—which the great father of architecture, Vitruvius, 
 had long before pointed to as the distinguishing character of good 
 architecture; whilst the other set at defiance all order and moderation. 
 The one never feared to draw a straight line, unless the requirements 
 of his work seemed to render a curved or a broken line preferable for 
 some special purpose; and surely a straight line seems to be, of all 
 others, the line of architectural fitness, and therefore of beauty; 
 whereas Borromini must evidently have abhorred such a line above all 
 things. He it was who, of all men, contributed most to the intro¬ 
 duction of that system of architectural design (if it can worthily lay 
 claim to the dignity of a system) by which masonry lost its special 
 character, and its most appropriate forms. His facades curved inwards 
 or bulged outwards on their plan, as if made not of hard stone, but of 
 some yielding and plastic substance; and his pediments, totally for¬ 
 getful of their primitive form, offered every variety of intricate convo¬ 
 lution and distortion. 
 
 Bramante called in the aid of sculpture with that chariness and 
 caution which plainly indicated how highly he appreciated its noble 
 attributes and fitting application; and as if he feared to vulgarize it 
 by too frequent a use of it, or by excess of any kind. Yet, highly as 
 he appreciates sculpture, he never permitted it to encroach upon the 
 proper limits of his own special art. Sculpture was used by him as 
 an honoured accessory, well calculated to stamp a moral value on his 
 work, and to give it a grace beyond the reach of mere architecture. 
 
 Borromini, on the other hand, permitted sculpture to dominate over 
 the main object of his art without restraint: his whole building was 
 literally sculpturesque, and his masonry was left to the bumbler duty 
 of forming a mere vehicle for the consolidation of some fantastic piece 
 of clay modelling. Such had been the downward progress of archi¬ 
 tecture during the period to which I have been adverting. 
 
 It is worthy of note how great a sympathy has always seemed to 
 exist bet ween our art and that of the sculptor. Whether dignified and 
 severe, noble or mean, natural or conventional, grand or grotesque, 
 those two sister arts seem ever to have proceeded hand in hand; for 
 ever sharing the same fate; rising together into greatness and sub¬ 
 limity, and together sinking into painful imbecility. Without going 
 too far back into the history of art (although in remotest times the 
 sympathy between the two arts was eminently conspicuous), we shall 
 find the observation hold good in Mediaeval art. The culminating 
 period of ecclesiastical architecture was precisely that which has been 
 eulogized by our Flaxman as distinguished by high sculptural excellence. 
 The quatro-centist introducers of modern art in both these branches 
 shared like feelings, and were remarkable for like excellences. The 
 sculpture of Donatello, like the architecture of Alberti, was alike 
 vigorous and original, and full of delicacy of feeling; these high 
 qualities being in both arts somewhat qualified, it is true, by a certain 
 degree of hardness and rigidity. In Michelangelo we find the same 
 colossal and masculine breadth, whether we regard the examples he 
 has left us of his sculpture or of his architecture. 
 
 Then coming down to the epoch that more particularly engages our 
 attention this evening, we shall find the same debasement pervading 
 the two arts. I have already said that one of the marked characte¬ 
 ristics of the architecture of the seventeenth century was that of 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 restless movement; so also the sculpture of the seventeenth century- 
 exhibits, in an especial manner, the absence of that tranquil dignity 
 which is particularly becoming in sculpture, especially when applied as 
 an accessory to architecture. A want of repose is almost equally 
 offensive in both the arts. The eye is fatigued and the attention 
 distracted by an excessive flutter in the details, whether we contemplate 
 a building or a group of sculpture. Bernini set the example, but 
 Borromini went far beyond him in this vicious treatment of the 
 sculptural accessories of their respective buildings. Indeed, one of 
 the most repulsive faults of sculpture at this degenerate period was 
 its utter want of repose and the inordinate love of representing agi¬ 
 tated drapery. 
 
 To say the truth, without, however, meaning the slightest dis¬ 
 paragement of the sister art, I would express my belief that most of 
 the errors of architecture, in its decadence, may be traced to the in¬ 
 jurious influence that sculpture exercised over our art. The habit of 
 a sculptor’s mind would natural!}' lead him to exercise his inventive 
 faculties in designing and modelling, out of the plastic material with 
 which he is most familiar, forms and combinations of forms that would 
 produce picturesque groups, and an ornamental or at least pleasing 
 arrangement of lines, and of chiaroscuro; and, when he comes to 
 execute his conceptions in stone or marble, he would of course seek to 
 construct his work, if not out of a single block, at all events in as few 
 as possible ; because joints, and especially bed-joints, he is of course 
 always anxious to avoid or conceal. All the proprieties, therefore, of 
 masonic construction; the sound bonding together and truthful 
 bedding of stones; the avoidance of false bearings, and all such-like 
 considerations, are entirely foreign to his art; and are, in fact, subjects 
 which never, or rarely, demand his study, nor even need his attention 
 as a, sculptor. Hence it is, probably, that we find that the sculptor 
 of the seventeenth century, when he produced works of architecture, 
 was very prone to treat his buildings, however large, rather like 
 magnified copies of small sculptural models, than as purely architectural 
 works; that is to say, works built up on the true principles, and ac¬ 
 cording to the known rules, of good architectural construction. 
 
 I think that it may be said, with strict truth, that exactly in pro¬ 
 portion as this sculpturesque spirit pervaded architecture, so that art 
 became deteriorated. It has been truly said, by a high authority from 
 this place, that painting and sculpture each excite our admiration the 
 most when their special characters are kept most clearly defined, and 
 when each art limits itself to the doing' that which it is by its nature 
 best qualified to do. Sculpture can very imperfectly represent distance ; 
 and should, therefore, avoid as much as possible attempting back¬ 
 grounds. Painting, on the other hand, is peculiarly competent to 
 produce such effects, by its power to represent space and distance; and, 
 therefore, the painter who places all his figures on the same plane does 
 not avail himself fully of the capabilities of his art. So, also, the 
 painter abandons one of his highest privileges when he neglects to use 
 colour; whilst the sculptor who uses colour (unless he does so with 
 infinite caution and exercises great moderation and abstinence) runs a 
 serious risk of turning his statues into dolls. 
 
 Our own art is amenable to the same law. It is always most tri¬ 
 umphant when it attempts to do that only which it is its special 
 province to do. Thus, then, to apply our remarks to the subject in 
 hand, I should say with great confidence that the architect who so 
 designs his building as to render it doubtful whether sculpture may 
 not legitimately lay claim to the work as its own, is a traitor to his 
 art, and despoils it of its birthri ght. 
 
 DO MOULDINGS IMPROVE ARCHITECTURE? 
 
 Ahchitectuee, to be of any value, must embody in itself the highest, 
 noblest, and purest form of thought of the age in which it is built. It 
 should not be an impersonation of the common sentiment of the age ; 
 because that, with few exceptions, is morally bad ; man, in all ages 
 alike, being an imperfect being, with but little control of his passions. 
 Popular literature is only a slight guide to the feelings of the age: 
 sensation novels do not represent the actual sentiment of men in 1862. 
 We are anything but sensational in our intercourse with one another ; 
 but they show this, that our lives are so conventional and unnatural, 
 that we are the victims of fashion, and mere machines ; and that, in 
 order to be pleased in our leisure hours, we must have something un¬ 
 natural and overstretched. 
 
 On the opposite side, we have a school of naturalists in art, politics, 
 and philosophy. The critical spirit of Germany is of this school. 
 
 1 
 
 The whole tendency is to ascertain the true and beautiful by the most 
 natural laws of reason. It is certainly the healthy side of our age ; 
 and, if too material to produce any great sentiment, like the thirteenth 
 century, it has, at any ^ate, its good points. It is the age of 
 reason. The twelfth and thirteenth were the ages of faith. 
 
 Before we proceed further with the inquiry, we will just glance back 
 at those twelfth and thirteenth centuries. They were noble ages. 
 Although religious ages, inasmuch as men confessed a faith and did 
 not doubt that faith, they were no more pure morally than the present 
 age of reason, from man in all ages being the same weak creature, 
 unable to govern himself either by faith or reason. Were men more 
 romantic in their characters than now ? On the whole, very little. Men 
 in the present day run willingly into danger in the same way as then, 
 and the idea of everybody fighting for his faith, and only for it, is now 
 exploded. The proportion of religious Crusaders was certainly small. 
 The romance of the Middle Ages was more the character of the lite¬ 
 rature than of the man. It was, in fact, the noble literature, the great 
 poem of the Early Mediaeval age, that was romantic: the men were 
 robust, hard, veritable men ; open, and generally opposed to meanness; 
 and, when touched upon at certain moments, religious in their faith, 
 and fond of the romance as sung to them by the bards. They were 
 exceedingly fond of fighting and plunder : they were consequently 
 hardy men ; and as the opposite to this they respected woman, but they 
 did not trust her; and apparently she was not very chaste,—exceed¬ 
 ingly frail then as now. A really good woman seems, at least in the 
 romance, to have been rare. “The Niebelungen Lay,” “ The Metrical 
 Tales of Ring Arthur,” and the “ Romance of France,” contain ex¬ 
 amples of the contrary in great abundance, but very few good. Man 
 or woman, it would be who could combine feeling and reason equally ! 
 But, perhaps, woman would lose her charm as woman, were she critical 
 like Bunsen. The twelfth-century men being robust men, they built 
 strongly. The sentiment of their sculpture was purely natural : there 
 was no sought-for sentiment, no imaginary sentiment, and consequently 
 false, as we find in Sassoferrato, or in another form, in modern German 
 art P It was very natural, like their romance : it was a purer form of 
 their own life. Now, what is to be the sentiment embodied in modem 
 art. The higher form of the age is reason. Hence we build, or should 
 build, a strong architecture,—a pointed arch, because it is strongest. 
 Our ideas of beauty are those which reason has pointed out: nature is 
 our idea of beauty. Hence the sentiment of expression in our sculpture 
 and painting must be strictly natural, with as much feeling as our 
 reason will admit us to throw into it, and as pure as we can make it. 
 As before said, reason is the higher principle of the age ; the trait 
 our great thinkers admire : that the lives of men in the year 1862 are 
 reasonable, no one after five minutes’ thought will admit. The lives of 
 men are selfish : they never were more selfish than at present. Doing 
 good to others forms a very small part of the general daily oc¬ 
 cupation of this gold-hunting age. Charity does not consist in a 
 millionnaire giving 50(V. to an hospital, but in doing or giving 
 something which is really a sacrifice of one’s personal comfort. 
 
 It is not exactly a manly age; yet the best form of modern 
 
 man is an admirer of manliness, and consequently a lover of 
 nature. Shall we get the feeling into sculpture, as the twelfth- 
 century men did ? I think not; simply because we do not believe 
 
 as they did. If a man has got the simple faith of one of that age, he 
 
 will not be able to give that feeling. But we are a doubting 
 age, full of reason, without feeling. I speak of the thinking class. 
 They were a robust age, but full of faith and feeling, with little 
 reason. They built strongly, because they were hardy men : we build 
 strongly, because it is more rational. Thus I believe that, although 
 we gain much, we must lose much; because much feeling cannot 
 exist with much reason. However, let us see how much faith and 
 feeling we can get into this age of reason. I am afraid it will be but 
 little. Our Roman Catholic friends ought to aid us in this matter; 
 they are living in the age of reason, but they have much faith : they 
 ought to produce some good art, when they have an opportunity to 
 build a church on anything like a large scale. Pugin possessed a 
 great deal of both elements, but art was not then so advanced as now : 
 as regards the workmanship, he could only form workmen out of bad 
 elements : now there is a body bred up in good principles. At any 
 rate, our architecture must be massive: now mouldings, tracery, 
 mullions, corners cut away for pillars, crockets, and the like, take 
 away from the massiveness. Let our architecture be thick and manly : 
 mouldings are neither massive nor manly. Let the architecture of the 
 day be a moral lesson to us, better than ourselves. That man had 
 any notion of the pointed arch being the strongest and best, when he 
 
 E 
 
20 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 introduced it iu the thirteenth century, I think not: he adopted it as 
 a matter of taste: it was some development of an idea he had got 
 elsewhere; perhaps in the East, because no sooner was the pointed 
 arch introduced than architecture began to decay: it became thin, full 
 of mouldings, tracery, and went on getting worse, through the Deco¬ 
 rated and Perpendicular periods. This shows that there was very 
 little reason in the Gothic architect: he had no sooner got the strongest 
 and most perfect form of arch than he began to thin and cut it away : 
 this is a lesson to our generation. Our duty it is to be as massive, 
 strong, and constructive as possible. We are guided by reason : he 
 adopted the pointed arch as a question of taste: we adopted it because 
 of its strength The twelfth-century man was hardy and robust, and 
 built accordingly; but directly he took to Pointed, he began to give 
 up these traits, and lost himself in thinness and complications of 
 mouldings. The expression of art, too, sculpture and painting, lost its 
 vigour : there was not that hardy purity in the fourteenth, there was 
 in the twelfth; they began to set up their own ideas in preference to 
 nature. A Madonna and Child of the fourteenth, compared with the 
 same of the twelfth, is like modern German Dusseldorf art, compared 
 with Rossetti or E. B. Jones : it is conceit compared with honest 
 English nature. What we must combine in our age, then, is the 
 strongest form Pointed, with the massiveness of the Romanesque; and 
 this combination must exist, because it is most in accordance with 
 reason. As to our sentiment, it must be thoroughly natural, reason¬ 
 able, with so much of passion and feeling as our rationalistic age 
 will permit. 
 
 Alphonse Waeington. 
 
 THE ARCHITECTURAL EXHIBITION. 
 
 It was to be expected that the desirability felt by architects to send 
 illustrations of their works to the International Exhibition, would in¬ 
 terfere with the annual exhibition in Conduit-street; and the matter 
 for wonder is, not that there are fewer drawings in the latter than 
 usual, but that there are sufficient to make an exhibition with any 
 interest at all. The preparation of a drawing Jit for exhibition im¬ 
 plies the expenditure, by the architect, of a certain amount of money, 
 or of time that is equal to it; in some cases a considerable amount; 
 and the advantages resulting to the man already known and in good 
 practice, are not sufficient to carry him more than a certain distance in 
 that direction. 
 
 The amount of art shown in the collection is not large, even with 
 reference to the number of the works exhibited ; and some of the 
 drawings might have been retained in the office of the author without 
 loss to the public. It is the duty of the profession to continue to 
 maintain this Exhibition; and we shall hope next year to find a larger 
 number of contributions from the elder members of the profession. 
 The great feature of the present Exhibition is the collection of sketches 
 and designs by the late A. W. Pugin. These might have been better 
 arranged. They afford a good lesson to all young architects, and 
 should be studied. 
 
 Photographs of Pugin’s Sketches are to be published, it appears, in 
 bi-monthly parts; at too dear a rate, however', to justify the expecta¬ 
 tion of any large sale. 
 
 lo the general Exhibition, Mr. E. B. Lamb is probably the largest 
 contributor; sending schools, houses, and churches; all thoughtful, 
 and mostly appropriate. His “ Warehouses for the Consignment and 
 Store Company (No. 40) are almost monumental. Mr. Burges shows 
 his skill in Mediaeval figure drawing by photographs of sculpture, 
 executed from his designs. The “ Elevation for Town Hall, Hull” (7), 
 and that of “ Town Hall, Northampton” (8), now being erected, both 
 by E. W. . Godwin , are very similar; being adaptations of that de¬ 
 scription of Italian-Gothic, involving as a striking feature statues on 
 brackets between the windows, which is just now being reproduced on 
 all sides. We do not say this, however, in disparagement of the 
 architect in question, who has a power of his own. The curious con¬ 
 dition of architecture amongst us is shown by the circumstance that 
 the design for the first-named Town Hall (Hull), to which the first 
 premium was awarded, exhibited here by Green and De Ville (28), is a 
 full-fledged Corinthian building; and the design for the second 
 (Northampton), “to which the first place was awarded by the profes¬ 
 sional referee” (185, Louis De Ville), is Corinthian and Doric. The 
 fact is, we have not yet an architecture of our own; and, in the way 
 we are now going on, it will be long before we shall have it. The 
 last-named architects. Green and De Ville, exhibit their design for pro¬ 
 
 posed Palais de Justice, Brussels, to which the third premium was 
 awarded (205, 210, and 225): this we shall illustrate. (12), “ Redhill 
 Market Hall,” T. and H. Franc is, is too much like a private residence: 
 it would be entirely so but for the clock in the porch. In like manner 
 (212), “ Design for the Public Halls, Guildford,” W. Lightly, fails to 
 convey its purpose. (15), “ Godolpliin Schools, Hamme'fSmith,” C. H. 
 Cooke, we have already engraved. The tower shown in the view now 
 exhibited has not been built. Our engraving represents the building 
 as erected, without it. (20), “ Offices and Sale Rooms, Water-lane, 
 City,” John Whichcord, have the great merit of plenty of light. (24), 
 “ Slip Roof now erecting at Millwall, for Messrs. Mare, for building 
 Iron-cased Frigates,” James Edmes’ton, is a satisfactory piece of jjSP 
 framework. The same architect exhibits a view of “ Messrs. Kintr’s 
 premises, 77, Thames-street,” a very lofty pile, with pointed red brick 
 arches, and picturesque arrangement of louvres on roof. The number 
 of red-brick arches, by the way, in the collection is very considerable. 
 
 (45) includes three graceful “ Sketches in France,” by R. Phene Spiers. 
 
 (46) , “ St. Patrick’s Cemetery, Low Leyton, Essex,” Willson and 
 Niclioll, shown by photographs. The buildings, Early Pointed in 
 style, are appropriate and pleasing. The same gentlemen’s “Studies 
 for the High Altars in Churches of St. Charles Borronreo, Upper Ogle- 
 street, London, and of the Augustinian Fathers, Limerick” (59), show 
 knowledge and right feeling. 
 
 One of the best specimens of colouring in the rooms is No. 62, 
 “ Cathedral of St. Asaph, the Choir,” J. Burbidge. We recognise the 
 same gentleman’s colouring in some of the other drawings here exhi¬ 
 bited. (63) is one of Mr. Truefitt’s characteristic houses “just erected 
 at Hornsey-rise.” (71, 72, and 73), C. J. Phipps, are some designs set 
 forth in wild pen-and-ink scratches, which would disguise any idea, 
 however good. (76, 114, 178), “Buildings designed and Buildings ex¬ 
 ecuted,” J. P. Jones, show a fatal facility in recombining two or three 
 of the fashionable elements, red-pointed arches and our friends the 
 statues on brackets : we willingly recognise, nevertheless, a considerable 
 amount of cleverness; (86) is a “ Design for an Octagonal Vestibule 
 with four Porticoes to Government Offices at the crossing of two main 
 thoroughfares,” which the intelligent author of it, C. 11. Smith, would 
 be sorry to see carried out. Why put porticoes in a vestibule, when 
 he would put down his own umbrella as soon as he reached it ? (89), 
 
 G. Goldie’s solid-looking church at Greenock, we have already illus¬ 
 trated. (93), “ Sculptural and Architectural Studies from Miraflores, 
 Pastille,” J. B. Waring, show ‘his great facility with the pencil and on 
 stone. (95), “ Designs for St. Michael’s Schools and Lecture Hall, 
 Handsworth, near Birmingham,” S. C. Rogers. Although entirely 
 plain and simple, its proportions, and the largely-overhanging roof on 
 iron cantilevers, give it a distinguishing character. (108 and 109) are 
 the section and elevation (not quite agreeing, by the way) of the design 
 for an Exchange for a large commercial city, for. which the Royal 
 Academy awarded the gold medal last year to Thomas H. Watson. 
 The style is Italian Gothic, showing that timidity in the mouldings 
 which characterizes it. The drawings are beautifully executed. Mr. 
 I’Anson sends a pen-sketch of “ The Chateau of Chambord ” (25); 
 and “ A Villa at Dulwich ” (30); Mr. Roger Smith, “ The Design sub¬ 
 mitted in Competition for Hospital of Incurables ” (125), which we 
 mentioned at the time as the only one having the Gothic character; 
 Mr T. C. Clark, a very good drawing of the Presbyterian church he 
 is now building in Upper-street, Islington (210); and Mr. Vaughan 
 some of the excellent sketches he made abroad as the Soane medallion 
 student of the Royal Institute of British Architects. Mr. Ashpitel, 
 Mr. Brodrick, Mr. Joseph Clarke, Mr. Fowler, jun., Mr. Hadfield, Mr. 
 Homann, Mr. Ivnightley, Mr. H. Oliver, Mr. Seddon, Mr. Shout, Mr. 
 White, Mr. Wilkinson, and others, also exhibit, and aid in rendering 
 the collection fully deserving of a visit. 
 
 The catalogue, we must mention, has a ragged and disjointed ap¬ 
 pearance, which might probably be remedied. Some little control, too, 
 should be exercised over the descriptions inserted by manufacturers and 
 companies.— Builder. 
 
 [We shall give a more general and extensive notice of this Exhibition 
 next month.] 
 
 Institution of Engineers in Scotland. —The proceedings of 
 the sixth meeting of the present session of this institution have been 
 printed. They comprise papers “ On Veneer-cutting Machinery,” by 
 Mr. Whitesmith ; “ On Moveable Bridges,” by Mr. D. M'Call; and 
 “ On the Expansive Working of Steam,” by Dr. Macquorn Itankine ; 
 together with discussions on the various papers, and on that of Mr. 
 J. F. Spencer, “ On Surface Condensation.” 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 27 
 
 ON SOME OF THE SPIRITUAL SIGNIFICATIONS 
 OF GOTHIC ART. 
 
 The following eloquent and thoughtful remarks on Gothic Architec¬ 
 ture are from the “ History of France,” by M. Michelet. This author 
 is best known in England by his assaults upon the Jesuits, and by his 
 semi-mystical, semi-political tract, called “ The People,” and of late 
 years by his disgusting work upon woman. But M. Michelet has far 
 other merits than are discoverable in any of these productions. As a 
 historian, he is one of the most conscientious, catholic, and painstaking. 
 He is, moreover, like our own Mr. Ruskin, whom in his glowing 
 picturesqueness of style he greatly resembles, animated by a fierce 
 hatred of the materialism of his age, and like the author of “ The 
 Seven Lamps of Architecture,” he has a true appreciation of, and 
 ardent sympathy with, the profound earnestness, child-like simplicity 
 and faith, which were the most striking characteristics of the great 
 men of the misunderstood and maligned Middle Ages. 
 
 “ Architecture rests on twin ideas : the natural, or the idea of order ; 
 the supernatural, or that of the infinite. In Greek art, order directs 
 and guides the natural and rational idea. The strong Greek column, 
 elegantly grouped, bears at its ease a light pediment—the weak rests 
 on the strong ; this is logical and human. Gothic art is supernatural, 
 superhuman. It is born of the belief in the miraculous, and poetic up 
 to absurdity. I speak not in scorn, but after the words of St. Augustine, 
 ‘ Credo quia absurdum.’ The divine house, because it is divine, needs 
 not strong columns; should it accept material support, it is in pure 
 condescension; the breath of God is all it requires. If possible, it 
 will do without any supports of the kind. It will delight in rearing 
 enormous masses on slender pillars. The miracle is clear. This is 
 the vital principle of Gothic architecture ; it is the architecture of the 
 miraculous. But it is likewise its principle of death. The human 
 miracle imperfectly fulfils the condition of the miraculous. The idea 
 of the miraculous is that of an instantaneous act, of a fiat, of a sudden 
 assistance granted to the necessities of mankind; it is then sublime. 
 A regular miracle, like the course of the sun, becomes common and un¬ 
 noticed. An immovable petrified miracle, proceeding from no urgent 
 necessity, strikes as an absurdity. Love loves to believe in the absurd ; 
 it is an act of devotion, of self-immolation the more : but the moment 
 love shall become wanting, the strangeness and oddity of these forms 
 will be obvious, and the sense of beauty will be shocked quite as much 
 as the sense of logic. 
 
 “ The Gothic style—produced by the effort of mysticism—is what 
 some have called, without understanding it, the free style. I say free, 
 and not arbitrary. Had it kept to the fine type of Cologne, had it 
 remained submissive to geometrical harmony, it would have perished of 
 languor. In other parts of Germany, and in France and England, 
 being less controlled by arithmetical rules and religious idealism, it 
 received more fully the impress of history. As German jurisprudence 
 when transported to France lost its symbolical character, and took one 
 more real, historical, variable, and susceptible of successive abstractions; 
 so Gothic art lost in France somewhat of its divinity, and came to 
 represent, along with the religious sentiment, all the vanity of actual 
 circumstances, of men and of the times. German art, more impersonal, 
 has rarely named the artists; ours have marked our churches with 
 their ardent personality; we read their names on the walls of Notre 
 Dame de Paris, on the tombs in Rouen, on the tumulary stones and 
 the mazes of the Church of Rheims. Anxiety for renown, and rivalry, 
 impelled these artists to desperate deeds. At Caen and at Rouen we 
 find parallels for the story of Dsedalus killing his nephew through envy. 
 You see in a church in the latter town, the hostile and threatening 
 effigies of Alexander de Berneval and of his pupil, whom he poniarded. 
 Their dogs, crouched at their feet, still threaten each other. The un¬ 
 fortunate young man, in the sadness of a destiny unaccomplished, bears 
 on his breast the incomparable rose in which he had the misfortune to 
 surpass his master. 
 
 “ It is the very essence of art to be disinterested, to be to itself its 
 proper object: then Gothic art was less art than was that of Greece. 
 The latter aims at the beautiful, nothing more. It is a young art, 
 which finds its full satisfaction in form. Gothic craves the good and 
 the holy: art is here as a means of religion, as a moral power. Art 
 in the service of a religion of death, of a system of morals which pre¬ 
 scribes the annihilation of the flesh, must encounter and cherish ugliness. 
 Voluntary ugliness is a sacrifice, natural ugliness is an occasion of 
 humility. Penitence is ugly, vice still more so. The god of sin, the 
 hideous dragon the devil, is in the Church, vanquished, indeed, and 
 humbled, but at any rate he is there. The Greek style often makes 
 the brute divine ; the lions of Rome, the steeds of the Parthenon, have 
 
 remained gods. Gothic bestializes man, to make him blush for him¬ 
 self before making him divine. Here is Christian ugliness. Where 
 is Christian beauty p It is in that tragic image of mortification and woe, 
 in that pathetic look, those arms opened to embrace the world. Terrific 
 beauty, adorable ugliness, which our old painters feared not to present 
 to the sanctified soul. Must it be that a time shall come when man 
 looks in it for something else, when he prefers the graces of life to the 
 sublimity of death, when he carps about the forms of the God who 
 died for him ? 
 
 “ In all Gothic art, sculpture, and architecture, there was, we must 
 confess, something complex, old, and importunate. The enormous 
 mass of the church is propped by innumerable counter-forts, and 
 laboriously upraised and sustained, like Christ on the Cross. It is 
 wearisome to see it surrounded by countless struts and stays, that 
 give it the appearance of an old house that threatens to topple down, 
 or of an unfinished building. 
 
 “ Yes, the house was toppling, it could not be finished. This ait, 
 assailable in its form, failed also in its social principle. The form of 
 society whence it sprang was too unequal and too unjust. The system 
 of castes, however attenuated by Christianity, still subsisted. The 
 Church, sprung from the people, was soon afraid of the people, 
 shunned it, and made alliance with its old enemy, feudalism, and then 
 with royalty, when this was victorious over feudalism. It then took 
 part in the melancholy victories of royalty over the Commons, to the 
 birth of which itself had lent its aid. The cathedral of Rheims displays 
 at the foot of one of its belfries the image of the bourgeois of the 
 fifteenth century, punished for having resisted the imposition of a tax. 
 This image of a pilloried people is a brand upon the Church herself; 
 the voice of the sufferers rose with the chants. Did God gladly accept 
 such homage ? I know not, but it seems to me that churches built by 
 corvees (forced labour) raised out of the tithes of a famishing people, 
 all blazoned with the pride of bishops and lords, and filled with their 
 insolent tombs, must have become day by day less pleasing to Heaven. 
 Beneath these stones there were too many tears. 
 
 4c 4^ 4c 4^ 4£ 
 
 “ The old world must pass away, the last trace of the middle ages 
 must become fully effaced; we must behold the death of all we loved ; 
 of what suckled, of what was our father and our mother, of what sang 
 us so sweetly in our cradle. In vain the old Gothic church lifts ever¬ 
 more to heaven its suppliant towers; in vain its storied windows weep, 
 its saints do penance in their stone niches. ‘ Though the waters of 
 the great deep overflow, they will not reach the Loud.’ This con¬ 
 demned world will pass away with the Roman, the Greek, and the 
 Oriental worlds; it will lay its bones by theirs. God will grant it, at 
 the most, as to Hezekiah, one round of the dial. 
 
 “ Alas ! then, is it all over ? Will there be no mercy ? Must the 
 tower halt in its soarings towards the sky ? Must the spire fall 
 back, the dome topple down on the sanctuary P Must this stone 
 heaven sink down and press on those who adored it P Is all at an end 
 when the form is at an end ? Is there nothing for religion after 
 death P When the cherished remains, snatched from our trembling 
 hands, descend into the grave, is there nothing left P Oh, I put my 
 trust for Christianity and Christian art in that very phrase which the 
 Church addresses to her dead:—‘ He who believes in me shall never 
 die.’ Loed, Christianity has believed, loved, comprehended; God and 
 man have met in it. It may change its garb, but perish never. It 
 will become transformed, to live again. It will appear one morning 
 before the eyes of those who think they are gazing on its tomb, and 
 will rise again on the third day.” 
 
 The Medijeval Coukt at the Inteen ational Exhibition.— 
 The court for the exhibition of Mediieval art is on the north side of 
 the nave, not far from the eastern dome, and promises to be a very 
 attractive feature. It will be remembered that the Ecclesiological 
 Society obtained space for such exhibition; and since then various 
 other exhibitors in the same walk, to whom space had been allotted, 
 have joined with the Society, and given them the general control and 
 arrangement. We could print a considerable list of modern monuments, 
 screens, sculptures, metalwork, and furniture, which will be found 
 there; but think it better to wait. The National Committee for Ar¬ 
 chitecture has also the control of a court for the exhibition of archi¬ 
 tectural art-manufactures, of all styles, situate in the east transept; 
 and here, too, are the galleries of the special Architectural Exhibition, 
 comprising drawings and models. 
 
 Not Bad. —The Cleveland Herald says, the mortar-boats of the 
 Mississippi are carrying the cement of the Union down South. 
 
 £ 2 
 
28 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 THE RESTORED TOMB OF MAUSOLUS * 
 
 The discovery and restoration of the world-renowned tomb of Mausolus 
 in the reign of Queen Victoria have brought this “ seventh w’onder 
 of the world” within the scope of our periodical. The conjugal 
 affection of Queen Artemisia, and the magnificent embodiment of her 
 sorrow and love through the genius of Scopas and his fellow-labourers, 
 have rendered the restored glory of Halicarnassus a theme for all time. 
 “ A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,” and the masterpieces of genius 
 are the everlasting inheritance of the whole human race. Two-and- 
 twenty centuries have elapsed since Mausolus died. Britain was then 
 a land unknown to the civilization of the world, unless perchance 
 through the wild and wondrous tales of the Phoenician mariners. Its 
 inhabitants were for the most part a skin-clothed, woad-stained, man- 
 sacrificing, idol-worshipping, savage, priest-ridden race. Nothing that 
 the human mind can conceive seemed more unlikely to take place than 
 that a native of this mist-shrouded, obscure ocean isle, should have 
 excavated the ruins of the once proud capital of Caria, discovered the 
 site, and determined the size and the form of the monument which 
 ranked as one of the “ seven wonders of the world.” The advent of 
 the artistic New Zealander who is to take his stand upon a broken arch 
 of London Bridge in order to sketch the ruins of St. Paul’s, is, as 
 a poetical conception, infinitely less extravagant to us, than the 
 prediction that a native of barbarian and all but unknown Britain, 
 animated with the love of art, should visit the site of Halicarnassus, 
 and restore the tomb of Mausolus, would he to an intelligent Greek of 
 the fourth century before Christ. Thanks, however, to the evolutions 
 of the ages, the wonder-working power of time, by which nations are 
 born and empires overthrown—which humbled Greece, and elevated 
 the then savage and insignificant isle of Britain to the foremost place 
 among the nations of the world—and thanks, also, to the liberality of 
 the British Government, the intelligence, enterprise, and perseverance 
 of Mr. Newton and his fellow-worker, this marvel, greater than the 
 advent of the artistic New Zealander, has been accomplished. The 
 grave has given up its dead. The might of the human mind has for 
 once at least successfully wrestled with the great destroyer. A vanished 
 glory of the past is made visible to the present. More than Layard 
 has done for Nineveh, or Botta for Khorasabad, or Davis for Carthage, 
 or Niebuhr or Bunsen for old Rome, Mr. Newton has done for the 
 buried capital of Caria, and the lost tomb of Mausolus. 
 
 This gentleman, and his friend Mr. Pullan, the architect of the ex¬ 
 pedition, are more than mere antiquarian or historical discoverers. 
 They have shown not only where the lost “ wonder ” once stood, but 
 what it was, and how it looked. Its form and size are clearly dis¬ 
 played and incontestably proved. After their demonstration, the 
 contused but valuable description of Pliny, and Littre’s surmised 
 emendations, need no longer bewilder the mind of the antiquary or the 
 student. The scattered and broken fragments are gathered and recon¬ 
 structed, and the monument of the Carian King, with its spacious 
 marble pedestal, its majestic quadrangle, with its screen of stately 
 columns, surmounted by a pyramid and crowned by a chariot and 
 statue, all of Parian or Pentelic marble, stands (to the mind’s eye) once 
 more “ a star y-pointing pyramid,” gleaming and resplendent, like a 
 structure of sunbeams, beneath the blue sky of the glowing Orient, 
 iu the midst of the busy city, surrounded by the fields and the hills 
 covered with the olive, the vine, and the fig-tree. 
 
 The main historical facts connected with the Tomb of Mausolus, 
 and the circumstances which led to its discovery and restoration in our 
 day, may be briefly stated. The Mausoleum was built about 350 years 
 before Christ. It was standing so late as the tenth century of our 
 era. This preservation was in all probability owing to its being a 
 tomb, not a temple, which would have exposed it to the destructive 
 fury of both Moslem and Christian iconoclasts. When it first fell 
 into ruin is not known. There is reason to believe that the downfall 
 of the upper part was effected by an earthquake. In 1402, the Knights 
 of St. John took possession of Halicarnassus, and used the marble of 
 the Mausoleum to build the fortress of St. Peter on the rocky penin¬ 
 sula of the harbour. In 1522, Sultan Solyman having prepared to 
 lay siege to Rhodes, the same Castle of St. Peter was repaired by the 
 white marble steps of the Mausoleum. Other depredations followed; 
 and “ thus,” adds Guichard, who wrote in the sixteenth century, “this 
 magnificent tomb, which ranked among the seven wonders of the world, 
 
 * -A History of Discoveries at Halicarnassus, Cnidus, and Branchidce. By 
 C. T. Newton, assisted by B. P. Pullan. London: 1862. 
 
 after having escaped the fury of barbarians, and remained standing for 
 the space of 2247 years, was discovered, and destroyed to repair the 
 Castle of St. Peter by the Knights of Rhodes, who immediately after 
 were driven out of Asia by the Turks.” For the sake of honest 
 Guiehard’s indignation at the Vandalism of the Christian knights, we 
 are content to forgive his error in the computation of the time during 
 which the Mausoleum stood. The next notice we have of it is in the 
 French traveller, Thevenot, who visited Budrum (Halicarnassus) in the 
 seventeenth century, and observed certain slabs in lo\V relief, extremely 
 well sculptured, which were inserted in the walls of the Castle. Oc¬ 
 casionally notices of these slabs are to be found in the works of other 
 travellers from the time of Thevenot until the present day. 
 
 In 1846, Lord Stratford de Redcliffe obtained a firman from the Sultan, 
 authorizing the removal of these marbles from the walls of the Castle, 
 and presented them to the British Museum. Of these sculptures Mr. 
 Newton, assisted by Mr. Cockerell, R.A., drew up a memoir, in which 
 it was attempted to determine the site of the Mausoleum. While en¬ 
 gaged in this work, Mr. Newton became convinced that for the com¬ 
 plete elucidation of the sculpture more evidence was necessary, and 
 that this evidence must be sought, not in books, but at Budrum itself. 
 In 1855, Mr. Newton visited Budrum, and then “ made the remarkable 
 discovery which induced Her Majesty’s Government to send out the 
 expedition forming the subject of this work.” The discovery here 
 referred to was that of several colossal lions in Parian or Pentelic marble, 
 and in the finest style of sculpture, inserted in the walls of the Castle. 
 These lions, on historical evidence, he concluded to belong to the school 
 of Scopas and his illustrious fellow-labourers in the work of decorating 
 the Mausoleum. Mr. Newton’s application to the Government for 
 the means of conducting the investigation on which he had resolved 
 was successful, and the expedition, which resulted in the splendid 
 volume of illustrations now before us, commenced in October, 1856, 
 and terminated in June, 1859. 
 
 For the detailed narrative of the labours and discoveries which have 
 eventuated in the restoration of the monument of Mausolus, we must 
 refer our readers to the volume of letter-press descriptions which ac¬ 
 companies the volume of drawings. For the present our task must be 
 limited to a brief account of the contents of the volume of illustrations, 
 and of the crowning triumph of an exploration unsurpassed for the 
 intelligence employed in its conduct. This crowning triumph, it need 
 hardly be stated, is the restoration of the Mausoleum. The science 
 and the success of Mr. Pullan in this undertaking deserve to rank 
 with Cuvier’s or Owen’s in determining and constructing the complete 
 anatomical structure of an extinct animal from a few broken and dis¬ 
 jointed bones. With no more architectural aid than about twenty 
 “ varieties ” of damaged stones, he has succeeded in giving what every 
 competent authority considers to be a full and faithful representation of 
 this long-lost “ wonder of the world.” The process of this restoration 
 and the proofs of its accuracy reveal an amount of patient intelligent 
 industry which is positively astonishing, and constitutes in its perusal 
 one of the most interesting, we might even say entrancing, chapters in 
 the romance of science. With the modesty of true genius, Mr. Pullan 
 disclaims the merit of originality, and frankly confesses that without 
 the assistance of Pliny’s description, imperfect though that description 
 is, the certainty which belongs to his restoration would be unattain¬ 
 able. All this may be conceded ; yet we maintain that if the discovery 
 of America—despite the previous voyages of the Welsh Prince Madoc 
 and the Scandinavian Sea Rovers—be due to Columbus, the restoration 
 of the matchless monument which Queen Artemisia built to her husband 
 is due to the architectural science of Mr. Pullan and the historical and 
 antiquarian attainments of Mr. Newton. 
 
 Before proceeding to indicate the principle and process of this me¬ 
 morable triumph of combined classical scholarship and architectural 
 science, a word must be said about the plates, ninety-seven in number, 
 in folio, which form to a large extent the subject of the text. In 
 merit they are all that we should expect from the press of Messrs. 
 Day and Son. Lithography here has imitated photography in the 
 most successful manner, and will be more enduring; for we regret to 
 say, that in several works which have been illustrated by photographs 
 direct from the hands of the photographical manipulator, these already, 
 although carefully excluded from the light, begin to fade. The prin¬ 
 cipal draughtsmen are Lieut. R. M. Smith, of the Royal Engineers, 
 and Mr. Pullan, who accompanied the expedition as architect. The 
 photographs, made by Corporals B. Spackman and M'Cartney, R.E., 
 have been cleverly transferred to stone by Mr. Pickens. To most 
 persons these will have the greatest interest, as they show the state of 
 the excavations at different points, and a number of local details which 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 no mere description in letter-press could realize to the mind. The 
 topographical maps, the architectural plans, the details of form and 
 ornamentation, are all laid down on such an extensive scale, that the 
 descriptions of the monuments of Budrum, Cnidus, and Branchidre, 
 given by Mr. Newton and by Mr. Pullan, can be followed without the 
 slightest difficulty. 
 
 What we have found the most interesting portion of the plates, is 
 that devoted to the restoration of the Tomb of Mausolus, from Mr. 
 Pullan’s drawings. As we have observed, the restoration is a most 
 ingenious example of architectural synthesis, conducted to a convincing 
 demonstration. Of this “ wonder of the world,” for several centuries the 
 site was unknown, and when discovered through the perseverance and 
 sagacity of Mr. Newton, not one stone was left standing upon another, 
 except out of place. The materials of the tomb were appropriated ages 
 ago to build the Castle of St. Peter, at Budrum, to supply the wants of 
 private builders for walls, or to furnish lime; and all that the labour 
 of excavation brought to light was about twenty varieties of architec¬ 
 tural stones, “ in most cases so much damaged by exposure to weather, 
 or defaced by having been used in the adjoining walls and houses, as 
 not to afford that degree of exactitude necessary for a perfect restora¬ 
 tion of the edifice.” It was, however, from these twenty varieties of 
 architectural stones, and Pliny’s description of the tomb, that the pro¬ 
 blem of the restoration had to be worked out. Without the latter, 
 any number of stones would have been insufficient. Pliny’s measure¬ 
 ments, indeed, are sufficiently puzzling, but yet afford a tolerably in¬ 
 telligible groundwork for the ingenious architect, with the fragments 
 of the tomb at his command, to proceed upon. But Mr. Pullan, in 
 his restoration, does not build from the foundations upwards, but from 
 the highest point of the monument downwards, and for a good reason. 
 Pliny describes the monument as being 140 feet high. He assigns 
 75 feet for the height of the pteron, or peristyle edifice, and pyramid 
 with its quadriga, and thus leaves 65 feet unaccounted for, which Mr. 
 Pullan is warranted in assuming- must have been the height of the 
 podium or basement. The figure of the monument was a quadrilateral, 
 the east and west sides being the shorter; the entire circumference 
 was 411 feet or 440 feet, there being two statements. 
 
 First had to be determined, from existing remains, the height of the 
 tomb. From a fragment of the nave of the chariot wheel and its peri¬ 
 phery, belonging to the quadriga, Mr. Pullan determined its diameter to 
 be 7 feet, and with the figure of Mausolus standing above the axle, he 
 assumes the height of 13' 3g-" # for the chariot group. This group stood 
 upon a pyramid of twenty-four steps, and from measurements of the 
 rise of the existing stones, he arrives at 24' 6" for the height of the 
 pyramid resting on the pteron. This result agrees nearly with Pliny’s 
 statement, that the height of the monument above the thirty-six co¬ 
 lumns on which it stood was 25 (mbits (37^- feet). The measurement 
 of stones belonging to the entablature, and of the drums of columns 
 and of capitals belonging to the pteron, gave from the base of the 
 columns to the cornice under the pyramid, 37' 2^", which, added to the 
 height of the pyramid and the quadriga, gives exactly Pliny’s measure¬ 
 ment of 75 feet. The remaining 65 feet belong to the podium, and 
 thus the whole height of 140 feet is satisfactorily made out. 
 
 Next for the length and breadth of the tomb. Here, again, the 
 pyramid was the key to the whole. From the wheel and fragments 
 of the horses of the quadriga, it was determined that it stood on a 
 pedestal on the top of the pyramid 25' 6" by 20' 5". Then, from the 
 breadth of the treads of the pyramid, it was determined that its base 
 measured 105' 5" by 85' 5". The length and breadth of the basement 
 were, of course, greater than the length and breadth of the base of the 
 pyramid, and these were determined upon the principles of architec¬ 
 tural science. 
 
 The length of the podium or basement was 119 feet on the south 
 and north sides, and the breadth 88' 6" on the east and west ends. 
 Adding these dimensions together, and multiplying by two, we have 
 415 feet. Pliny gives 411 feet, or 440 feet, the difference arising from 
 an obscurity in the text. At all events, Mr. Pullan’s approximation is 
 remarkable. Without the aid of plates it would not be easy to show 
 how these results have been arrived at; but a perusal of the work will 
 amply reward the student of architecture, and convince him, we be¬ 
 lieve, that the results have been fairly and scientifically wrought out. 
 
 The remainder of the volume of plates is occupied with the anti¬ 
 quities of Cnidus and Branchidse, and with inscriptions found at Hali- 
 
 * Decimal scales have been adopted, as affording the greatest exactness; but 
 where dimensions are quoted in the description of’ the building, feet and inches 
 are usually given, for the purpose of conveying a clearer idea to the reader. 
 Thus 13' means 13 feet divided into 10 parts or inches, while 3j" means 3^ of 
 the same inches. 
 
 carnassus (Budrum). The views of excavations, the topographical plans, 
 the representation of statuary, &c., are all in the best style of litho¬ 
 graphy. Upon these, however, we cannot enter until the appearance 
 of another volume of Mr. Newton’s text. Altogether, the present 
 must be regarded as a national work, creditable to all the parties en¬ 
 gaged upon it. Its great price, however, will place it beyond the reach 
 of the ordinary book purchaser ; but an enterprising publisher might 
 issue an edition which would satisfy every craving for a more inti¬ 
 mate knowledge of these magnificent remains of an age greatly ad¬ 
 vanced in art, if backward in some other excellences characteristic of 
 modern civilization. 
 
 WHAT SHALL PRINCE ALBERT’S MONUMENT SAY?* 
 The author of a small pamphlet, whose title is given below, wants to 
 impress upon the Committee to whom the erection of a suitable Memorial 
 to the late Prince Consort is confided, that it is a fitting occasion at least 
 to make some effort to improve our national monuments. In this most 
 people will agree with him. But whether the Committee would be 
 justified in adopting his suggestion is a matter upon which opinion may 
 very possibly be divided. He says :— 
 
 To me it appears that no imitation should be admitted. Egyptian, Assyrian, 
 Greek, Roman, Italian, Mediaeval, Gothic, should all be entirely avoided, and 
 something adopted which shall embody and reflect the life, feeling, and thoughts 
 of the nation. We would repudiate all heathen symbols—sphynxes, winged 
 globes, reversed torches, funeral cypresses, urns, and insignia of the undertaker— 
 all allegorical figures and allusions. Hope with her anchor, Fame and trumpets, 
 Victory and laurel wreaths, Britannia and Lions—all these have been repeated 
 to exhaustion. 
 
 The characteristics of English modes of thinking, feeling, and taste, are sim¬ 
 plicity, truth, meaning, purity. Our life is earnest, domestic, practical; our 
 habits plain and simple ; our actions devoid of all extravagance. Our most deep 
 or vivid emotions are betrayed by no gesticulation or histrionic attitudes. We 
 are unaddicted to pomp, pageantry, or finery. Magnitude, apart from utility, 
 excites no admiration; greatness is never identified with mere vastness of size; 
 hence the gigantic statues which occupy our public places move no feeling of 
 awe, no sentiment of admiration. 
 
 The ideal of a monumental memorial of a Prince who achieved no military 
 glory, who effected nothing great in political affairs, who did nothing which can 
 be presented in a mechanical form, but who has impressed upon our fond me¬ 
 mories that which is immeasurably better, is that it should be appropriate, 
 unique, and calculated to excite the same feelings as would arise in his living 
 presence. 
 
 In conformity with these sentiments, the proposed obelisk should be associated 
 with sculptures simply and truthfully representing the Man whose memory we 
 desire to honour. These sculptures should speak to the eye and heart of every 
 Englishman in language he can understand, refer to feelings and sentiments 
 with which he can sympathize, furnish lessons which will impress themselves on 
 his memory, and excite a beneficent influence on his conduct. They should be 
 framed on principles now vital and active, neither brought from the past, nor 
 anticipate an imaginary and unknown future. 
 
 What, then, should they be ? 
 
 1st. The Prince, with the Queen and all his family—every figure of the exact 
 size of life—portraits as accurate as possible, grouped so as to produce at once 
 the most life-like and picturesque effect. 
 
 It was here, amid his family, that the virtues of the departed Prince shone 
 most conspicuously. It was for his devotion to his royal wife and children that 
 we most esteem him. It was his admirable conduct as a husband and father 
 that won the nation’s love. Can a more appropriate tablet be devised to per¬ 
 petuate his memory, than to place his image among those of all his loved ones, 
 as they were in age, and form, and feature, at the period just preceding his 
 departure from them—to fix the scene, and tell the tale of Ins domestic life to 
 the present and succeeding generations ? 
 
 In an artistic point of view no subject could be imagined more susceptible of 
 embodying high talents, beauty of form, tenderness and purity of feeling, skill in 
 composition and execution, than such a family group. 
 
 Sir Charles Eastlake, perhaps beyond any living artist, could make this subject 
 so beautiful, so truthful, so expressive of everyt hing that is dignified and touch¬ 
 ing, so full of meaning and feeling, that no one could look upon it without 
 emotion. 
 
 In reference to the inscription which the monument should bear, 
 “ Omega” says :— 
 
 I would suggest that, as no limit can be assigned to the character of the monu¬ 
 ment about to be erected, so it should be regarded as possible that it may survive 
 our literature—our language—our history. This brings us to the inscription; 
 for this, on the above plan, eight panels are provided. 
 
 I would have a simple, truthful, full narrative of the Prince’s life, writ ten with 
 a sparing use of titles and epithets—such a life as his own refined taste would 
 have approved, prepared with as much care as the sculptures. It may be brief 
 in extent, though full, as comprehending every important fact. 
 
 This narrative shoukl be engraved on the stone faces, in four languages—for 
 the middle gradient, English, German, French, and Hindustani. Why this 
 latter ? it may be asked; is not this fantastical ? It is the language spoken by 
 a numerical majority of the Queen’s subjects—that is my reason for selecting it. 
 If this is thought insufficient, l'et another be chosen; but this, by employing a 
 smaller character, might be in two forms, Hindi and Ordoo, in the Persian and 
 Nagree alphabets. 
 
 On the four faces of the upper gradient I would repeat the narrative in the 
 four languages of the great literatures of the past—Hebrew, Sanskrit, Greek, 
 and Latin. The reasons have been already stated—the Memorial is for an incal¬ 
 culable future. 
 
 * Letter to the Right Hon. the Earl of Derby on the proposed Memorial to 
 ' the Prince Consort. By Omega. London: Darton and Hodge. 
 
30 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 We have made greater use of this pamphlet than we should other¬ 
 wise have done, since the author’s modesty caused him to print so few 
 that scarcely one in a thousand of our readers are ever likely to see it; 
 and in addition to this, his remarks appear to us to be worthy ot the 
 consideration of all who are interested in improving the character of 
 our public buildings. 
 
 THOUGHTS, PRACTICAL AND PHILOSOPHIC. 
 
 Decline of Building Skill.— Where are now the bricklayers 
 who could build walls which, for neat and strong work, are in these 
 days still a delight to look at ? the stonemasons who could select stone 
 which, fifty years after the completion of the edifice, exhibits in many 
 cases as clean work as the day it was done, and which will endure for 
 years without either the process of a triennial cleaning down, or with 
 covering over with five or six coats of paint ? the carpenters with their 
 joists, roof, and flooring adapted to all requirements without the addi¬ 
 tions of ironwork, to render small scantlings efficient for the duty of 
 proper ones ? the carvers of all kinds yet putting to shame our modern 
 make-believe attempts at composition and papier mache ? the plasterers 
 with their ornamental work, executed by hand on the wall or ceiling 
 itself, rendering the modern “ decorator ” a person of no consequence P 
 These were all art-workmen, and truly so; and we shall not have them 
 again until the building trade, leaving the control of one man, who 
 undertakes all trades “ by contract,” shall again be carried out by the 
 master workman with his assistants, as formerly practised. It is thus 
 only that the best work is performed even in the present day in 
 England, and by all trades in foreign countries.— The Builder. 
 
 the artist. 
 
 He is a being of deep reflection—one 
 That studies Nature with intensest eye: 
 
 Watching the works of air, earth, sea, and sun : 
 
 Their motion, altitude, their form, their dye— 
 
 Cause and effect; the elements which run 
 Or stagnant are, he traces to their source 
 With vivid study, till his pencil makes 
 A perfect likeness: or by fancy’s force 
 A new creation in his heart he takes. 
 
 And watches Nature’s progress in his course 
 Towards glory. In the abstractions of his mind. 
 
 Harmony, passion, and identity, 
 
 His genius like the summer sun is shrined 
 Till beauty and perfection he can see. 
 
 Hone. 
 
 He rends the oak and bids it ride 
 To guard the shores its beauty graced; 
 
 He smites the rock upheaved in pride, 
 
 See towers of strength and domes of taste; 
 
 Earth’s teeming caves their wealth reveal, 
 
 Eire bears his banner on the wave. 
 
 He bids the mortal poison heal, 
 
 And the destroying knife to save; 
 
 He plucks the pearls that stud the deep. 
 
 Admiring Beauty’s lap to fill ; 
 
 He breaks the stubborn marble’s sleep, 
 
 Rocks disappear before his skill; 
 
 With thoughts that swell his glowing soul. 
 
 He bids the ore illume the page, 
 
 And proudly scorning Time’s control. 
 
 Commerces with an unborn age. 
 
 In fields of air he writes his name, 
 
 And Heads the chambers of the sky ; 
 
 He reads the stars, and grasps the flame 
 That quivers in the realms on high. 
 
 In war renowned, in peace sublime. 
 
 He moves in greatness and in grace; 
 
 His power subduing space and time. 
 
 Links realm to realm and race to race. 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 SPIRIT AND MATTER. 
 
 Hast thou ever thought, oh! mortal man, 
 
 That the sun itself is a thought began ? 
 
 And that thoughts are the inner suns that dwell 
 Insphered as minds in each burning shell ? 
 
 Hast thou ever thought how the light forth came ? 
 
 I’ll tell thee : 
 
 God breathed, and a sphere of flame 
 Outrolled and enwrapt the universe. 
 
 Each ray of light was a thought in verse, 
 
 Erom the poet heart of our God outsung. 
 
 Didst thou ever think of the human tongue, 
 
 How still in itself, yet in speaking the air 
 Into music of wisdom melodious and rare ? 
 
 Look at it—think of it—thy tongue can tell 
 Great truths, yet itself, like the tongue of a bell, 
 
 It thinketh not, and it hath no voice. 
 
 Yet its golden tones bid the world rejoice. 
 
 All matter is God’s tongue! 
 
 Out from its motion God’s thoughts are sung; 
 
 And the realms of space are the octave bars, 
 
 And the music notes are the suns and stars. 
 
 Rev. T. L. Harriss. 
 
 Yitruyius enumerates twelve qualities requisite to constitute a good 
 architect: that he be docile and ingenious; well educated; skilled in 
 designing, in geometry, optics, arithmetic, history, philosophy, music, 
 medicine, law, and astronomy. 
 
 Ornamental Art. —It is an incarnation of fancy, and is a sort 
 of petrified poetry, or concrete rhetoric. It is the blossom of the 
 Art-tree, whose root is thought, and whose trunk is imagination. It 
 is inventive, imitational, and composite. Egyptian ornament is 
 thoughtful and always allegorical. The Assyrian is still quieter, 
 simpler, and more primitive. The Greek revels in noble sweeping 
 curves and fretted foliage, highly conventionalized. The Oriental 
 types, in their art, lost their symbolic character, and became en¬ 
 riched and idealized by fancy, harmony, and a sweet grace in every 
 line. The Etruscan is rude and Asiatic, with Greek luxuriance. The 
 Roman is strong and vigorous, leafy, luxurious, and voluptuous. The 
 Byzantine is barbarism, rich, knotted, linked, and studded like em¬ 
 broidery. The Moorish is the poetry of geometry and the mathe¬ 
 matics of colour, varied and changeful as Nature. The Gothic is 
 Nature subdued and limited by rules and space. The Indian is varied, 
 strange in its blendings and studied intermixtures, arranged by the 
 instincts of men in a hot climate; but the Persian is the most grace¬ 
 ful and poetical of all Oriental work; gorgeous and yet delicate in 
 colour, it is full of the broadest effects of contrasting hues, and 
 wreathed and blossomed with threads of flowers bright as those of a 
 missal. In the harmonies of dies there are invention and imagination. 
 Let our student follow Nature boldly and lovingly, but not servilely— 
 learning to compose as she does, not following her laws without laying 
 down his own. Above all, let him remember that ornamentation is to 
 art what words are to thought, and that if design and architecture are 
 dead, no ornamentation, however beautiful, can give them life. It 
 will be but at the best a wreath of flowers round the pale brow of a 
 corpse.— Athenaeum. 
 
 THE FUTURE. 
 
 The solemn temples that share duration 
 With man himself in his generation. 
 
 Shall rise unfolded in sculptures fair, 
 
 Like epic hymns through the fragrant air ; 
 
 And the kingly glories of time and space, 
 
 And the lovely hues of the human face ; 
 
 And the solemn swells of the human heart, 
 
 Fired with the presence and theme of art; 
 
 And the wondrous charms of song divine, 
 
 And the rapt musician’s heaven-taught line : 
 
 And the tinted beauties and statues ffrand 
 From the painter’s eye and the sculptor’s hand; 
 
 And the high revealments of sages wise, 
 
 And the vision vast of the prophet’s eyes; 
 
 And the boundless joy that is everywhere, 
 
 In the stars, and the suns, and the fields of air; 
 
 And the breathing beauties of field and flood, 
 
 Outspring from the Mind of the Perfect Good; 
 
 And they blend and shine in the perfect whole, 
 
 And live from the One Creative Soul. 
 
 Rev. T. L. Harriss. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE TIIE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 81 
 
 PATENTS CONNECTED WITH BUILDING. 
 
 Window-sashes. —D. Miles, Newport, Monmouthshire. Dated 7th 
 August, 1861.—The patentee claims the combination of parts tied or 
 kept together by metallic tongues; forming, when complete, a rigid 
 and secure window-sash; and permitting, on the withdrawal of the 
 said metallic tongues, both the upper and lower sashes partially to 
 revolve, in order that either side of the glass may be cleaned from the 
 interior of the room or chamber at pleasure; also the combination of 
 parts in using which he dispenses partly with the metallic tongues for 
 the lower sash, or both upper and lower sashes, and uses a spring 
 catch, or two spring catches, in lieu thereof; also the combination of 
 parts by which he causes both upper and lower sashes to present, 
 singly or together, either face of the glass to the interior of the 
 chamber, substituting the use of spring catches in lieu of metallic 
 tongues. 
 
 Covering eoe Houses, &c.—N. A. Leusseur, Paris. Dated 7th 
 August, 1861.—This invention consists, principally, in giving to 
 bricks, tiles, &c., by means of grooves, notches, or mortices cut in 
 dovetail, the faculty of being set and fixed rapidly, solidly, and econo¬ 
 mically. 
 
 The Construction of Doors, Gates, and Shutters, prin¬ 
 cipally APPLICABLE TO PlREPROOF BUILDINGS. —W. S. Hogg, 
 Rotherhithe, London. Dated 8th August, 1861.—This invention 
 consists in forming the above-mentioned articles of parallel iron or 
 other metal bars, rebated or grooved to receive bricks or other 
 moulded forms of earthen materials. In many cases ordinary bricks 
 will answer the purpose, and may be variously disposed according to 
 the structure required. The parallel iron bars are combined with an 
 external iron framing of the form and size desired. 
 
 Preservation of Stone and other Analogous Absorbent 
 Substances. —P. S. Barff, Dublin. Dated 9th July, 1861.—This in¬ 
 vention consists in employing for the said purposes solutions of the 
 alkaline silicates, combined with the aluminate of potash, or other 
 suitable reagent, in such proportions as to allow sufficient time to 
 elapse for manipulating the said solutions, and thus enabling it, when 
 applied to the surface of the stone, or otherwise, to enter into and 
 effectually penetrate the same. The said solutions, in combination 
 with powdered pumice-stone, or other like material, are also employed 
 for producing or manufacturing artificial stone for attrition, building, 
 or other purposes. 
 
 Glazing Horticultural Buildings, the Roofs of Railway 
 Stations, &c. —T. G. Messenger, Loughborough. Dated 6th Sep¬ 
 tember, 1861.—This invention consists in laying glass in such wise 
 that each edge of the glass (which glass may be of any required shape 
 or size) shall lie on one side of an open gutter, which said gutter may 
 form a gutter only, or it may form a gutter and rafter, either cast or 
 rolled in one or two parts; the said gutter is made to carry off all 
 the condensed vapours from the interior, as well as the rain, &c. 
 
 Bricks. —R. 0. White, Blackheath Park. Dated 7th September, 
 1861.—This invention is applicable when burning bricks in open 
 clamps or kilns, where fire is mixed with the brick earth, and is also 
 interposed between some of the courses. For these purposes, in 
 order that the bricks may be more uniformly burned, and come out of 
 an open kiln or clamp of uniform quality, the system of setting the 
 bricks in “ necks,” heretofore practised, is got rid of; and the bricks 
 are set in one direction, in such manner that each course of bricks 
 breaks course with the course above and below. 
 
 Apparatus for Making Bricks, Tiles, Drain-pipes, &c.— 
 P. Eflfertz, Manchester. Dated 5th September, 1861.—This machine 
 is intended for producing perforated, solid, and paving bricks, gutter- 
 tiles, roofing-tiles, cornice-tiles, pantiles, drain-pipes, and other similar 
 articles. The clay is fed into the machine through a hopper, mixed 
 by a combination of screws through a grate to be cleansed from stones 
 and other objectionable matters, modelled or moulded by pressure to 
 the desired shape, and received as an endless band by a rolling table 
 in front of the machine. This rolling table is provided with a self¬ 
 acting cutter, put in motion by the band of clay emerging from the 
 machine, and cutting the said band into any length desired at right 
 angles to the surface, or at an angle proportionate to the velocity. 
 The necessary pressure is exerted through a combination of screws 
 requiring less power than any other now in use. The machine con¬ 
 sists of two main parts or -divisions. Firstly, the press for mixing, 
 cleansing, and shaping the clay. Secondly, the self-acting cutting- 
 table on which the band of clay emerging from the mould is cut. 
 The invention cannot be described without reference to the drawings. 
 
 GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 The late Mr. James Elmes, Architect. —We have to record 
 the death of Mr. James Elmes, formerly surveyor to the port of 
 London, which took place on the 2nd instant, after a lingering decay, 
 although unattended with great bodily suffering. Mr. Elmes, who is 
 perhaps best known by his work on “ Dilapidations,” and as the father 
 of the architect of Liverpool Town Hall, studied architecture under 
 Mr. George Gibson. He gained the silver medal in architecture at 
 the Royal Academy in 1804, and afterwards designed and carried out 
 some buildings in London and the neighbouring counties, and in 
 Ireland. He relinquished his principal office, and that of vice-presi¬ 
 dent of a society “ for the diffusion of the knowledge of the fine arts 
 among the people,” in 1828, through loss of sight, which, however, 
 he partially recovered a few years since. Mr. Elmes is the author of 
 a memoir of the “ Life and Works of Sir G'hristojiher Wren,” pub¬ 
 lished in 1823; a volume on “Sir Christopher Wren : his Life and 
 Times;” a volume of “ Lectures on Architecture;” a “General and 
 Bibliographical Dictionary of the Fine Arts;” “ Elmes’s Quarterly 
 Review ;” “ The Annals of the Fine Arts “ Thomas Clarkson : a 
 Monograph,” and other works. His remains were interred at Charlton, 
 on the 5th instant.— Builder. 
 
 The Albert Memorials.— Bristol: At a meeting of the com¬ 
 mittee held at the Council-house, under the presidency of the Mayor, 
 the precise form which the memorial should take was discussed ; and 
 it was resolved that it should be a statue, and that, should a sufficient 
 amount be obtained, there should be an addition of water, in such 
 shape as would present a statue and fountain in harmonious com¬ 
 bination. The subscriptions then amounted to 370/. ; and confident 
 hopes were expressed that the amount required would be obtained.— 
 Hanley : Upwards of 500/. have already been contributed towards the 
 cost of converting the Hanley School of Art into a memorial of the 
 late Prince Consort, by the purchase of the premises and their adap¬ 
 tation to an extended scheme of usefulness.— Liverpool: Mr. Thorny - 
 croft has been selected by the committee of the corporation of Liver¬ 
 pool to execute the equestrian statue of the Prince to be erected there. 
 — Wakefield: At a meeting held at Wakefield, under the presidency 
 of the Mayor, it has been resolved to erect some memorial of the 
 Prince in that town. The form of the testimonial was left for further 
 consideration, but the enlargement of the Clayton Hospital w r as sug¬ 
 gested.— The Scottish National Memorial: At a recent meeting of 
 
 o o 
 
 the local committee for the city of Edinburgh, it was announced that 
 the subscriptions reported to the conjoined committees for the city, and 
 the county of Midlothian, exceeded 3370/. This was exclusive of the 
 subscriptions at Leith, Musselburgh, and Portobello, which were under 
 the charge of separate committees; and also exclusive of sums col¬ 
 lected by the numerous local committees in different parts of Scotland. 
 Arrangements, according to the Scotsman , are in progress for affording 
 an opportunity to artisans and domestic servants to subscribe sums of 
 whatever amount they may find convenient. 
 
 The British Museum. —The decision of the Government on the 
 subject of providing additional accommodation for the collections of the 
 British Museum is now definitely announced, by the publication of the 
 correspondence which has passed between the Lords of the Treasury 
 and the Trustees. The structural alterations which are proposed to 
 be effected, are, of course, subject to such modifications as may here¬ 
 after be determined. They are mainly comprised in the following 
 suggestions. Right and left within the readers’ entrance of the corridor 
 leading to the reading-room are to be new staircases. The present 
 staircase on the left of the entrance-hall is to be removed. With the 
 area thus gained, and by taking down the wall which divides the 
 staircase from the Roman Gallery and substituting columns, a room, 
 94 feet by 60 feet, will be obtained for antiquities. The removal of 
 sundry partition walls, and the appropriation of pieces of unoccupied 
 ground to the west, will allow additions to be made to the Egyptian 
 Gallery, the Graeco-Roman Saloon, and the Elgin rooms. On the 
 upper floor, the rooms now occupied by Geology, Mineralogy, and 
 Palaeontology will be transferred to the antiquities, which already 
 occupy the west side. Such is the solidity of the building that all 
 the galleries on this floor might be used for the exhibition of sculp¬ 
 tures, even of large size. When the new library and reading-room 
 were erected, it was believed that there would be space for 800,000 
 volumes, calculating the annual increase for forty years at 20,000. 
 But the annual increase has now reached 35,000 volumes: and, al¬ 
 though the new building will contain more books than it was originally 
 estimated to hold, yet, if the present rate of increase continue, it will 
 
3-2 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 lie full in about twenty-five years. Alterations are indicated which 
 would provide additional space for 200,000 volumes. Details are 
 given of the proposed accommodation for the binder, for the Trustees’ 
 offices, and for the several collections of prints and coins. Into these 
 it is needless to enter more particularly. The proposed additions to 
 the departments retained in the Museum are shown in the following 
 list:— 
 
 Present space. Proposed addition. 
 
 Printed books, square feet . 
 
 . 117,746 — 
 
 17,803 
 
 Manuscripts. 
 
 . 13,178 — 
 
 3,430 
 
 Antiquities. 
 
 . 91,784 — 
 
 67,692 
 
 Coins and Medals 
 
 . 2,950 — 
 
 4,950 
 
 Prints and Drawings 
 
 . 2,600 — 
 
 5,554 
 
 Offices, &c. 
 
 . 6,724 — 
 
 3,626 
 
 Binders. 
 
 . 4,539 — 
 
 3,221 
 
 The Committee urge that the erection of buildings on unoccupied 
 ground at the Museum should be proceeded with at once, and also that 
 no time should be lost in providing buildings for the reception of the 
 Natural History Collections ; because, until this be done, no redistri¬ 
 bution of the vacated space can possibly be undertaken. The Chan¬ 
 cellor of the Exchequer has announced his intention of introducing a 
 Bill into Parliament for the purpose of legalising the separation of the 
 collections at the British Museum on the plan proposed, and for main¬ 
 taining the control of the Trustees over the several collections. The 
 site designated by the Royal Commission is understood to be that 
 temporarily occupied by the western annexe to the International 
 Exhibition, and forming the east side of Prince Albert’s-road. As the 
 Government wish to have eight acres of land, a portion of about two 
 acres, with a frontage to Kensington-road, will probably be added in 
 order to obtain the required extent. 
 
 Paris. —A few steps from the Boulevart de Sebastopol (Rive 
 droite) a house is being constructed which will cause the disappearance 
 of the last vestiges of one of the most ancient thoroughfares of this 
 old quarter—that of the Rue de la Vieille Monnaie. This street, 
 whose origin se perd dans les waits du Moyen age, was known, 
 before the time of St. Louis, by the name of Rue de la Monnaie. A 
 little higher up, on the Boulevart de Sebastopol, at the angle of the 
 Rue Rambuteau, there remains also the last house of another old 
 street; there commenced the Rue Salle-au-Comte. The Comte de 
 Daumartin lived there, his hotel having been, some time afterwards, 
 the abode of the Chancellor de Marie, who was massacred in 1418 by 
 the Bourguignons when Paris was given up to the populace by Perinet 
 Leclerq. The belfry erected between the Mairie of the first ariondisse- 
 ment and the church of Saint Germain l’Auxerrois is completed, with 
 the exception of the placing of the clock. The open space extending 
 in front of this facade of the Louvre is completed, but not after the 
 original design of Perrault, who proposed thereby to open an immense 
 square between the colonnade and the Pont-Neuf; so that the demo¬ 
 lition of the church of Saint Germain l’Auxerrois and the adjoining 
 block of houses would have followed. In order to disengage the side 
 of the Louvre in the direction of the river, Louis XIV. proposed the 
 erection of a monumental bridge opposite the Lesdiguieres pavilion. 
 The bridge was to have terminated at the other side of the Seine, in a 
 semicircular open space, whence three boulevarts were to radiate—viz., 
 one to the south-west, towards the esplanade of the Invalides; another 
 to the south-east to the Luxembourg; and a third straight to the 
 south, joining into the road to Versailles. The works of the Billan- 
 court bridge, commenced in the month of September last, have been 
 suspended, owing to the flood of water in the river. The structure is 
 to be composed of two sections, united by an island—viz., three arches 
 over the large branch of the Seine, and two over the others; in all 
 five arches. The Billancourt bridge will afford ample means of com¬ 
 munication with Boulogne and other suburbs on the right bank of the 
 Seine, where the population is continually increasing, and desirous of 
 communication with the communes of Issy and Bas-Meudon, so rich 
 in materials of construction of all sorts. Above Billancourt the 
 Seine is to be crossed by another bridge, a girder one, to carry the 
 chemin de fer de ceinture, and for foot passengers. The execution 
 has been ordered, and all steps taken for its construction. 
 
 Ingenious Model.- —A man named Anderton, a labourer, residing 
 at Bracebridge, has for many years been engaged on a model of Lincoln 
 Cathedral in cork, which he intended obtaining space for in the Great 
 Exhibition of 1862. The model is now complete, and is said to be an 
 exact counterpart of the original. Upwards of a million of old corks 
 have been used in the construction, each of which has been cut into a 
 proper form with the aid of a knife alone. The length of the model 
 
 is 10 feet 5 inches, width 7 feet 6 inches, and height 5 feet 9 inches. 
 All the minutiae of the original are faithfully copied; the figures on 
 the west front and in the south-eastern entrance being, it is said, ex¬ 
 ceedingly well done. The interior has also been copied as faithfully 
 as the exterior, even to the organ and the stained-glass windows. 
 
 The Singular Discoveries in the Swiss Lakes. —Recent 
 discoveries show that at some primeval period a population of very 
 considerable density lived in huts constructed on stages which rested 
 on wooden supports driven into the bed of almost every Swiss lake, 
 just as the Malays in Borneo and the Siamese in Bangkok may be 
 seen living to this day. A wonderful number of articles pertaining to 
 the daily life of those forgotten races have been brought to light. In 
 some places the materials of the dwellings have been preserved in the 
 mud,—the floor of hardened earth and the twisted branches and bark 
 which formed the walls. Arms have been discovered in great quan¬ 
 tities, tools, from swords in flint to needles in bone, ornaments, children’s 
 toys, the remains of stored-up fruits of various kinds, nay, even a 
 cellar or receptacle full of corn, and a loaf of bread composed of bruised 
 grain, and preserved by carbonization. By the side of these relics are 
 found the bones of the animals which they slew in the chase, many 
 belonging to species extinct before the rise of history, or barely men¬ 
 tioned in it. The urus, the bison, the elk, and the beaver furnished 
 them with food and with the materials for some of their most inge¬ 
 niously-constructed utensils. So plentiful and perfect are the remains 
 found in the lakes, that much more has been learned concerning the 
 daily life and manners of men whose existence was not suspected ten 
 years ago, than is known of races which have left a famous name in 
 history or tradition. 
 
 Fall of Towers and Spires. —Winchester Cathedral: Tower fell 
 in 1107. Ely Cathedral: Central tower fell suddenly, in 1321 or ’41. 
 Gloucester Cathedral: Tower fell suddenly in 1160. Worcester Ca¬ 
 thedral : Tower fell in 1175 ; two towers fell in 1222. Lincoln Ca¬ 
 thedral: Tower fell in 1240. Norwich Cathedral: Spire and tower 
 fell in 1361, destroying the choir. Hereford Cathedral: Western 
 towers and front fell within the last century. Wells Cathedral: 
 Prevented from falling in 1321, by inverts and buttresses, “ in gross 
 violation of all taste and architectural propriety.” (See Dr. Willis’s 
 paper.) Chichester Cathedral: Tower and spire fell in 1861. Dun¬ 
 stable Priory Church: Two towers fell in 1221. Evesham Priory 
 Church : One tower fell in 1213. Canterbury Cathedral : Tower saved 
 from destruction, in Dr. Willis’s opinion, by means similar to those at 
 Wells. Salisbury Cathedral: The spire 23 inches out of the perpen¬ 
 dicular ; its fall predicted in the Builder, April, 1861. St. Nicholas, 
 Hereford ; St. Mary’s, Rodelifle, Bristol: Both with truncated spires, 
 owing either to their upper part having fallen, or to their being left 
 incomplete in apprehension of a fall. 
 
 Mr. R. W. Jones, of Cork, has obtained a patent, dated 26th 
 August, 1861, for heating and ventilating, especially applicable to 
 Turkish baths. All who have used those baths must have felt that 
 something was required to render them agreeable as well as useful. 
 
 NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 In tlie execution of the Plates which form our Illustra¬ 
 tions, we hope always to have the advantage of the 
 drawings of the Architects whose buildings we represent. 
 We also invite those gentlemen, in every instance, to 
 communicate both with our artists and ourselves during 
 the progress of our engravings, and we shall always he 
 anxious to secure their approval for every illustration on 
 its completion. 
 
 The lithographs contained in the present Part have all 
 been executed from the original drawings of the Architect, 
 and also from his working drawings, with the additional 
 aid of photography; and they will doubtless be preserved 
 and valued as faithful pictures of the Great International 
 Exhibition, as it appeared on May 1st, 1862. 
 
 All communications for the Editor to be addressed to 
 the care of Darton and Hodge, Publishers, Holborn- 
 hill, E.C. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 RUSKIN AND HIS TEACHINGS. 
 
 NE of the signs by which a really great 
 man* may be known, is that he inva¬ 
 riably succeeds in making people un¬ 
 comfortable. True, a very small man 
 may, and frequently does, the same 
 thing. But not necessarily. In gene¬ 
 ral, the small man lives a quiet, com¬ 
 monplace, inoffensive life. He respects 
 the prevailing taste; complies with all respectable con¬ 
 ventions; defers to every fashionable custom; pays his 
 rates and taxes without asking any questions as to how 
 they are spent, or for what purpose they are levied. His 
 “ gig”—the true symbol and certain sign of his respect¬ 
 ability—is beautifully varnished, its joints and springs 
 are well oiled, and it is never driven out of the smooth 
 and even ruts of recognised routinity. Erorn all this it 
 is manifest that he is on the sure road to rising in the 
 world—by becoming a vestryman, a town councillor, or — 
 highest flight of mean or mediocre ambition—a Member 
 of Parliament. 
 
 The great man generally fails in all this—even if he 
 shordd attempt to succeed in it. It is seldom, however, 
 that he does make the attempt. As a rule, he is at war 
 with some custom or other because he believes that cus¬ 
 tom to be at war with truth, with nature, and with human 
 wellbeing. His great mission is to put an end to the putrify- 
 ing intellectual stagnation—to the deadening sameness of 
 thought and slavish uniformity of mental action and ex¬ 
 pression to which, under the moral tyranny of fashion, 
 human beings are so fearfully and so fatally inclined. 
 He stirs the still waters of the popular mind, because he 
 knows that without this disturbance no healing virtue can 
 come out of them. But this disturbance is certain to 
 destroy the comfort of the numerous creeping things that 
 are sheltered beneath the green corruption that mantles 
 the surface of the pool, and to whom stagnation and 
 putrescence are essential elements of existence. It there¬ 
 fore necessarily happens that with all those who have, or 
 imagine they have, vested interests in established rotten¬ 
 ness, the teacher, the reformer, the purifier, is a very 
 unpopular personage. It could not well be otherwise. 
 Mankind, in the mass, are lazy, and, in the absence of 
 some goading or impellent influence, irresistibly prone to 
 inertia. The toil and the travail which are indispensable 
 to the attainment and maintenance of true and incessant 
 intercommunion with nature and with nature’s God, are 
 exceedingly distasteful to the great majority of human 
 beings. If they could only livd without work, most cer¬ 
 tainly no work would be done by them. Their activity, 
 which seldom aims at anything higher than animal grati¬ 
 fication, results from the same cause which precipitated 
 the Tartar or Hunnic hordes of Attila upon the Roman 
 Empire—the impossibility of finding the means of sus¬ 
 tenance on their native steppes and wildernesses. 
 
 But, co-existent with, this love of rest, there is the love 
 
 * By which of course is meant a great teacher, for every great man is, in virtue 
 of an eternal law, a teacher of some great and necessary truth. 
 
 2 
 
 33 
 
 of knowledge. Now, the indulgence of the one is incom¬ 
 patible with the indulgence of the other. Knowledge 
 cannot be gained without labour, and man, that is, the 
 better part of him, cannot live without knowledge. Here, 
 then, is the problem which, from the beginning of the 
 world—or at least from the eating of the forbidden fruit— 
 mankind have been trying to solve—namely, how to live 
 without work. The solution has not, up to this pre¬ 
 sent moment of writing, been effected, for even the pro¬ 
 fessed plunderers of society have to labour for their 
 living. The mere destructives have to work wfith both 
 hands and heart, in order to live upon those that do the 
 productive work of the world. One of the consequences 
 of this condition of things has been a compromise. Man¬ 
 kind have agreed to labour as little as they possibly could, 
 even though the result should be a very inferior and 
 shabby style of living. Hence the extreme readiness 
 with which superficial, plausible, and easily comprehended 
 creeds and theories of the universe and its multiplex 
 forms and forces are adopted; and hence, too, the fierce 
 and desperate tenacity with which mankind cling to every 
 creed, theory, or system that has once effected a lodgment 
 in their understandings. 
 
 Thus it has happened that in every age and country 
 the assailant of the established theory, whether it relate 
 to religion, government, art, or philosophy, is regarded as 
 a common enemy—as a general disturber of respectable 
 people’s repose—as a national or universal nuisance which 
 ought to be abated. Moses pestering King Pharaoh and 
 his nobles with the great question of Hebrew emancipa¬ 
 tion; Elijah troubling Israel with his scathing denuncia¬ 
 tion of Baal worship ; Socrates ridiculing and discomfiting 
 the Sophists of his day; Galileo shattering orthodox 
 systems of astronomy; Harvey exploding received theo¬ 
 ries of physiology; Howard preaching and crusading 
 against the foul dragon of inhumanity which lurked and 
 ravaged in the prisons of Christendom; or a George Ste¬ 
 phenson revealing a new mode of locomotion,—each and 
 all of these have been exposed to public hatred or scorn, 
 and denounced as madmen, impostors, or idiots by the 
 votaries of the things which these great men professed to 
 supersede. 
 
 It was quite natural that it should be thus. Man is a 
 proud as well as a lazy creature. He does not like to 
 confess that he has been harbouring a lie all the days of 
 his life. His self-love is enlisted on the side of errors. 
 He will battle as stoutly in defence of the deadliest de¬ 
 lusions as he will in defence of the most vital realities. 
 What, then, is to be expected but that the teacher who 
 tells him that his boasted learning is mere piled-up igno¬ 
 rance—that the gods of his devoutest idolatry are either 
 malignant demons or impotent fetisches—that even his 
 most adorable “ golden calf,” enshrined in his “ holy 
 of holies,” is not gold, but a mere lacquered sham, a 
 Brummagem imposture, a wooden or earthenware image, 
 with just enough gilding to impose upon the superficial 
 eye of a fool,—what, we say, can be expected but that the 
 man who proclaims these w r holesome but unpalatable 
 truths should be regarded as a most disagreeable and 
 
 F 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF TIIE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 most dangerous person, whom it is the sacred duty of all 
 loyal and respectable people to put down ? The truth is, 
 that human beings—unless compelled by the overpower¬ 
 ing manifestation of the beauty of truth, and the ugliness 
 of error—will submit to any degradation, become the 
 slaves of every sin, and the perpetrators of every crime, 
 sooner than become the docile and believing little children 
 who alone can enter the heaven of beauty and of truth. 
 
 John Ruskin is a great and fearless teacher, not of art 
 only, hut also of morality, and even religion. As such 
 he has waged fierce implacable war against some of the 
 most powerful idolatries and delusions of the age. He has 
 therefore experienced the fate of every other great teacher. 
 He has been vilified and misrepresented; the envenomed 
 shafts of satire, and the ponderous cannon-balls of invec¬ 
 tive, have been discharged at his head. Quarterly reviews, 
 monthly magazines, weekly and daily journals, platfonn 
 dissertations, and “ learned societies,” have done their 
 utmost to hoot him down ; and such is the remorseless 
 vindictiveness of professional rancour and outraged bi¬ 
 gotry, that, had the customs of the age but sanctioned 
 it, physical restraint would have been resorted to for the 
 purpose of silencing the voice and restraining the pen of 
 this most eloquent and vehement of the modern teachers 
 of truth in art and humanity in government. 
 
 The principles and purposes of Mr. Ruskin’s teaching 
 will be best learnt from his own works. These works, 
 however, are for general readers too numerous and volumi¬ 
 nous to be thoroughly studied. Messrs. Smith and Elder 
 have therefore conferred a deep obligation on the whole 
 public by the publication of a very elegant and portable 
 book made up of “ selections” from his various works. 
 These “ selections” are chosen with great intelligence, 
 and they will serve not only as a “ Handbook” to Mr. 
 Ruskin’s productions, but also as a guide to the artistic and 
 ethical theories which he has so earnestly and eloquently 
 expounded. From this welcome compilation, as well as 
 from his separate and complete treatises, we now proceed 
 to unfold the peculiar or characteristic views held and 
 taught by Mr. Ruskin concerning architecture, painting, 
 political economy, and other matters of human interest. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin’s distinctive views on the two first are most 
 clearly and decisively enunciated in his “ Lectures on 
 Architecture and Painting,” delivered about nine years 
 ago at Edinburgh, and published in a compact volume by 
 Smith, Elder, and Co., of CornhiU. In these lectures he 
 displays no small share of the art of the accomplished 
 orator, combined with a large amount of the fire of the 
 prophet. Having first humoured his audience by pointing 
 out and praising the real excellences of Edinburgh archi¬ 
 tecture, he then in a most candid and emphatic manner 
 proceeds to demonstrate and denounce its many manifest 
 and manifold imperfections. “ As far as I am acquainted 
 with modern architecture,” he says, “ I am aware of no 
 streets which, in simplicity and manliness of style, or general 
 breadth and brightness of effect, are equal to those of 
 Edinburgh.” “ But”—then there is such a terrible same¬ 
 ness about them. This sameness is the especial horror of 
 Mr. Ruskin. To escape monotony and slavish mechanical 
 
 imitation, he is prepared to encounter, and if need be 
 tolerate, the wildest irregularities and the most palpable 
 and audacious transgressions of the laws of art. The 
 reason for this is, that irregularity and transgression, if 
 they be independent and spontaneous, are indicative of 
 some sort of life, whereas monotonousness of style and 
 imitativeness of formation are both the causes and the cha¬ 
 racteristics of complete spiritual death. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin institutes a parallel between the street 
 architecture of the New Town of Edinburgh and the Old 
 City of Verona, much to the disparagement of the former. 
 He says to his Edinburgh friends, “ Your decorations are 
 just as monotonous as your simplicities. How many 
 Corinthian and Doric columns do you think there are in 
 your banks and post-offices, institutions, and I know not 
 what else, one exactly like the other?—and yet you expect 
 to be interested ! Nay; but you will answer me again,— 
 We see sunrises and sunsets, and violets and roses, over 
 and over again, and we do not tire of them. What! did 
 you ever see one sunrise like another? does not G-od 
 vary His clouds for you every morning and every night ? 
 though, indeed, there is enough in the disappearing and 
 appearing of the great orb above the rolling of the world, 
 to interest all of us, one would think, for as many times 
 as we shall see it ; and yet the aspect of it is changed for 
 us daily. You see violets and roses often, and are not 
 tired of them. True ! but you did not often see two roses 
 alike, or if you did, you took care not to put them beside 
 each other in the same nosegay, for fear your nosegay 
 should be uninteresting ; and yet you think you can put 
 150,000 square windows side by side in the same streets, 
 and still be interested by them. Why, if I were to say the 
 same thing over and over again for the single hour you are 
 going to let me talk to you, would you listen to me ? 
 And yet you let your architects do the same thing over 
 and over again for three centuries, and expected to be 
 interested by their architecture ; with a further disadvan¬ 
 tage on the side of the building as compared with the 
 speaker, that my wasted words would cost you little, but 
 his wasted stones have cost you no small part of your 
 incomes.” 
 
 Mr. Ruskin’s doctrines are remarkable, among other 
 things, for the decisiveness with which they are enunciated. 
 Though his diction is unsurpassed for its splendour, there 
 is no writer more free from ambiguousness, hesitancy, or 
 circumlocution. His magnificent rhetoric is but the handle 
 of a most trenchant logic. Though the haft of his sword 
 is blazing with brilliants, no one ever made less use of his 
 weapon for the mere purpose of displaying it. Mr. Ruskin 
 evidently believes that swords were made for use, not for 
 ornament, and judging from the vigour and directness of 
 his cuts and thrusts, there can be no doubt that in this 
 matter at least his practice is in complete conformity with 
 his creed. We give a few samples of Mr. Ruskin’s 
 decisive and aphoristic, if not dogmatic, method of in¬ 
 struction. 
 
 “ All things that are worth doing in art are interesting 
 and attractive when they are done.” 
 
 “ There is no law of right which consecrates dulness.” 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 “ The proof of a thing’s being right, is that it has 
 power over the heart, that it excites us, wins us, or 
 helps us.” 
 
 “ Architecture is an art for all men to learn, because 
 all are concerned with it; and it is so simple, that there is 
 no excuse for not being acquainted with its primary rules, 
 any more than for ignorance of grammar or of spelling, 
 which are both of them far more difficult sciences. Far 
 less trouble than is necessary to learn how to play chess, 
 or whist, or goff tolerably—far less than a schoolboy takes 
 to win the meanest prize of the passing year, would acquaint 
 you with all the main principles of the construction of a 
 Gothic cathedral, and I believe you would hardly find the 
 study less amusing.” 
 
 Mr. Ruskin is very clear and very brief in explaining 
 the “ principal distinctions between existing styles of 
 architecture.” Those distinctions, he says, depend on 
 their methods of roofing any space—as a window or door, 
 for instance, or a space between pillars: that is to say, 
 that the character of Greek architecture, and of all that is 
 derived from it, depends on its roofing a space with a 
 single stone laid from side to side; the character of 
 Roman architecture, and of all derived from it, depends 
 on its roofing spaces with round arches; and the character 
 of Gothic architecture depends on its roofing spaces with 
 pointed arches or gables.” 
 
 By Roman architecture he explains that he does not 
 mean “ that spurious condition of temple form which was 
 nothing more than a luscious imitation of the Greek,” 
 but “ that architecture in which the Roman spirit truly 
 manifested itself, the magnificent vaultings of the aque¬ 
 duct and the bath, and the colossal heaping of the rough 
 stones in the arches of the amphitheatre—an architecture 
 full of expression of gigantic power and strength of will, 
 and from which are derived all our most impressive early 
 buildings, called by various antiquaries Saxon, Norman, 
 or Romanesque.” 
 
 The main gist of his views on architecture as an art are 
 reducible to six propositions. 
 
 1. That Gothic or Romanesque construction is nobler 
 than Greek construction. 
 
 2. That ornamentation is the principal part of archi¬ 
 tecture. 
 
 3. That ornamentation should be visible. 
 
 4. That ornamentation should be natural. 
 
 5. That ornamentation should be thoughtful. 
 
 6. And that therefore Gothic ornamentation is nobler 
 than Greek ornamentation, and Gothic architecture the 
 only architecture which should now be built.” 
 
 He contends “that a great architect must be a great 
 sculptor or painter”—that “ the three greatest architects 
 hitherto known in the world were Phidias, Giotto, and 
 Michael Angelo, with all of whom architecture was only 
 their play, sculpture and painting their work ;” that “ all 
 great works of architecture in existence are either the 
 work of single sculptors or painters, or of societies of 
 sculptors and painters, acting collectively for a series of 
 years.” 
 
 But probably the chief reason for Mr. Ruskin’s pre- 
 
 35 
 
 ference for the Gothic is its effects upon the growth and 
 character of the workman. The fashionable styles of 
 architecture and decoration were characterized by such 
 insipid sameness, such slavish repetition, that the mind 
 and the hand of the workman have been reduced to a 
 mere machine. “ Reader, look around this English room 
 of yours, about which you have been proud so often, 
 because the work of it was so good and strong, and the 
 ornaments of it so finished. Examine again all those 
 accurate mouldings, and perfect polishings and unerring 
 adjustments of the seasoned wood and tempered steel. 
 Many a time have you exulted over them, and thought 
 how great England was, because her slightest work was 
 done so thoroughly. Alas ! if read rightly, these perfect¬ 
 nesses are signs of slavery in our England, a thousand 
 times more bitter and more degrading than that of the 
 scourged African or helot Greek. Men may be beaten, 
 chained, tormented, yoked like cattle, slaughtered like 
 summer flies, and yet remain in one sense, and in the best 
 sense, free. But to smother their souls within them, to 
 blight and hew into rotten pollards the suckling branches 
 of their human intelligence; to make the flesh and skin 
 which, after the worm’s work on it, is to see God, into 
 leathern thongs to yoke machinery with—this is to be 
 slave-masters indeed. And there might be more freedom 
 in England though her feudal lords’ lightest words were 
 worth men’s lives, and though the blood of the vexed 
 husbandmen dropped in the furrows of her fields, than 
 there is while the animation of her multitudes is sent like 
 fuel to feed the factory smoke, and the strength of them 
 is given daily to be wasted into the fineness of a web, or 
 racked into the exactness of a line.” 
 
 This mechanical slavery of the mind was altogether 
 obviated by the liberty of invention accorded to each indi¬ 
 vidual workman in the decoration of the Gothic structures. 
 
 “ Go forth and gaze upon the old cathedral fronts, where 
 you have smiled so often at the fantastic ignorance of the 
 old sculptors; examine once more those ugly goblins and 
 formless monsters, and stern statues, anatomiless and 
 rigid; but do not mock at them, for they are signs of the 
 life and liberty of every workman who struck the stone— 
 a freedom of thought and rank in scale of being, such as 
 no laws, no charters, no charities can secure, but which 
 must be the first aim of all Europe at this day to regain 
 for her children.” 
 
 For the overthrow of this mental slavery, and for the 
 kindling of thought and inventiveness in the minds of our 
 workmen, he lays down “three broad and simple rules.” 
 
 “ 1. Never encourage the manufacture of any article, not 
 absolutely necessary, in the production of which invention 
 has no share. 
 
 “ 2. Never demand an exact finish for its own sake, but 
 only for some practical and noble end. 
 
 “ 3. Never encourage imitation or copying of any kind, 
 except for the sake of preserving record of great works.” 
 
 Mr. Ruskin revels in the enjoyment of physical beauty. 
 
 He believes, with St. Paul, that “ the invisible things” of , 
 God “ are clearly seen, being understood by the things 
 that are made.” His soul is wrapped in admiration of 
 
 f 2 
 
36 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 the beauty and the majesty of the universe of God, except 
 when it is aflame with indignation at the iniquities of 
 man. He believes that to be beautiful is a duty second 
 only to the duty of being good. “ Man,” he says, “ was a 
 beautiful creature, setting forth his beauty by all means in 
 his power, and depending upon it for much of his autho¬ 
 rity over his fellows. So that the ruddy cheek of David, 
 and the ivory skin of Atrides, and the towering presence 
 of Saul, and the blue eyes of Coeur de Lion, were among 
 the chief reasons why they should be kings ; and it was one 
 of the aims of all education, and of all dress, to make the 
 presence of the human form stately and lovely. Now it 
 has become the task of grave philosophy to depreciate or 
 conceal this bodily beauty ; and even by those who esteem 
 it in their hearts, it is not made one of the great ends of 
 education. Man has become upon the whole an ugly 
 animal, and is not ashamed of his ugliness.” 
 
 But “ the beautiful alone is not for man. I believe that 
 it is not good for man to live among what is most beau¬ 
 tiful ; that he is a creature incapable of satisfaction by 
 anything upon earth, and that to allow him habitually to 
 possess in any kind whatsoever, the utmost that earth can 
 give, is the surest way to cast him into lassitude and dis¬ 
 content.” 
 
 Mr. Buskin’s preferences in painting are based upon the 
 same reason as his architectural predilections. Fidelity to 
 truth or nature is the only claim to respect which he 
 acknowledges. It is for this reason that he exalts Turner 
 above all past and present painters of landscape. The five 
 very large and handsome volumes which make up his 
 “ Modern Painters,” were at first “ intended to be a short 
 pamphlet, reprobating the matter and style of shallow and 
 false criticisms of the periodicals of the day on the works 
 of Turner. But as point after point presented itself for 
 demonstration, I found myself compelled to amplify what 
 was at first a letter to the Editor of a Review into some¬ 
 thing very like a treatise on art, to which I was obliged to 
 give the more consistency and completeness because it 
 advocated opinions which, to the ordinary connoisseur, 
 will sound heretical.” 
 
 In this work, which not only is “very like,” but ac¬ 
 tually is a treatise on art, and that, too, one of the most 
 elaborate and eloquent, if not accurate, that ever has been 
 written, Mr. Buskin compares Turner with all the land¬ 
 scape painters, past and present, and assigns the palm of 
 superiority to Turner. He places Turner in the same 
 rank of intellectual greatness as Shakspeare and Bacon. 
 “ By Shakspeare, humanity was unsealed to us; by 
 Verulam, the principles of nature; and by Turner, her 
 aspects. But of all three, Turner, though not the greatest, 
 was the most unprecedented in his work. Bacon did 
 what Aristotle had attempted; Shakspeare did perfectly 
 what iEschylus did partially; but none before Turner 
 had lifted ‘the veil from the face of Nature.’” . . . 
 
 “ Turner was the first man who presented us with the 
 type of perfect landscape art.” As for “ Claude, he em¬ 
 bodies the foolish pastoralism, Salvator Rosa the ignorai.t 
 terror, and Gaspar Poussin the dull and affected erudition, 
 of the seventeenth century.” Titian indulges in “ exag¬ 
 
 gerated colourTintoret is frequently magnificent, but 
 sometimes, as in “the ground, foliage, and drapery, as 
 well as in the lion of the lower angle of his St. Jerome, 
 the larger features are executed with a slightness which 
 admits not of close examination.” Tintoret, however, as 
 “the painter of space, stands altogether alone among 
 dead masters, being the first who introduced the slightness 
 and confusion of touch , which are expressive of the effects of 
 luminous objects seen through large spaces of air, and the 
 principles of aerial colour which have been since carried 
 out in other fields by Turner.” 
 
 In Rembrandt there are grandeur and dignity, and occa¬ 
 sionally “ snblime fidelity;” but “ his system of chia¬ 
 roscuro is inconsistent with the gladness, and his modes 
 of feeling with the grace, of nature.” Rubens “ furnishes 
 us with the first instances of complete unconventional, 
 unaffected landscape. His treatment is healthy, manly, 
 and rational; not very affectionate, yet often conde¬ 
 scending to minute and multitudinous detail, always, as far 
 as it goes, pure, forcible, and refreshing, consummate in 
 composition, and marvellous in colour.” 
 
 Coming to the English school of landscape painters, 
 Mr. Ruskin says that Richard Wilson, if he had studied 
 under favourable circumstances, possessed power enough 
 to produce an original picture. But he was corrupted by 
 his study of the Poussins; “ still, he paints in a manly man¬ 
 ner, and occasionally reaches exquisite tones of colour.” 
 Gainsborough is the “ greatest colourist since Rubens,” 
 but the execution of his landscapes “ is in some degree 
 mannered, and always hasty, and they are altogether wanting 
 in affectionate detail.” Besides, “ his colour is in some 
 measure dependent on a bituminous brown and conven¬ 
 tional green, which has more of science than of truth in 
 it.” Constable is thoroughly original, thoroughly honest, 
 free from affectation, manly in manner, frequently suc¬ 
 cessful in cool colour, and especially realizing certain 
 motives of English scenery, with perhaps as much affec¬ 
 tion as such scenery, unless when regarded through media 
 of feeling derived from higher sources, is calculated to 
 inspire.” But “ there is a want of veneration in the way 
 he approaches nature herself, and I have never seen any 
 work of his in which there were any signs of his being 
 able to draw, and hence even the most necessary details 
 are painted by him inefficiently.” On Calcott, Mr. 
 Ruskin looks with less respect than on Constable. 
 “ There is no tendency in him with which we can sympa¬ 
 thize, nor does there appear any sign of aspiration, effort, 
 or enjoyment, in any one of his works.” But, according 
 to Air. Ruskin, all that is wanting in the works of these 
 and the rest of his predecessors, are to be found in the 
 productions of Turner. “ We may range over Europe, 
 from shore to shore, and from every rock that we tread 
 upon, every sky that passes over our heads, every local 
 form of vegetation or of soil, we shall receive fresh illus¬ 
 tration of his principles—fresh confirmation of his facts. 
 We shall feel wherever we go that he has been there 
 before us; whatever we see, that he has seen and seized 
 before us; and we shall at last cease the investigation 
 with a well-founded trust, that whatever we have been 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 37 
 
 able to account for, and what we still dislike in his works, 
 has reason for it, and foundation like the rest; and that 
 even when he has failed or erred, there is a beauty in the 
 failure which none are able to equal, and a dignity in the 
 error which none are able to reprove/' 
 
 The cause of Turner’s unrivalled greatness is, of 
 course, in the first place, his God-given genius, and 
 secondly, the fact that “ he dwelt and communed with 
 nature all the days of his life.” Young painters are 
 advised to follow his example. “ Young painters should go 
 to nature trustingly, rejecting nothing and selecting 
 nothing; but they must be careful that it is nature to 
 whom they go—nature in her liberty—not as servant-of- 
 a’l-work in the hands of the agriculturist, nor stiffened 
 into court-dress by the landscape gardener. It must be 
 the pure wild volition and energy of the creation which 
 they follow—not subdued to the furrow nor cicatrized to 
 the pollard, not persuaded into proprieties nor pampered 
 into diseases. Let them work by the torrent side, and in 
 the forest shadows; not by purling brooks and under 
 ‘ tonsile shades/ ” 
 
 Mr. Ruskin’s latest estimate of Turner corresponds 
 with his earliest. The heart of the great painter, Mr. 
 Ruskin also maintains, was worthy of his matchless genius. 
 Towards the end of the fifth and final volume of “ Modern 
 Painters” he writes, “Turner had a heart as intensely 
 kind, and as nobly true, as ever God gave to one of his 
 creatures. I offer as yet no evidence in this matter. 
 When I do give it,* it shall be sifted and clear. Only this 
 one fact I now record joyfully and solemnly, that having 
 known Turner for ten years, and that during the period of 
 his life when the brightest qualities of his mind were in 
 many respects diminished, and when he was suffering most 
 from the evil speaking of the world, I never heard him say 
 one depreciating word of living man or man’s work; I 
 never saw him look an unkind or blameful look ; I never 
 knew him let pass, without some sorrowful remonstrance, 
 or endeavour at mitigation, a blameful word spoken by 
 another. Of no man but Turner, whom I have ever 
 known, could I say this. And of this kindness and truth 
 came, I repeat, all his highest powers. And all his failure 
 and error, deep and strange, came of his faithlessness. 
 Faithlessness or despair, the despair which has been shown 
 to be characteristic of this present century, and most sor¬ 
 rowfully manifested in its greatest men, but existing in 
 an infinitely more fatal form in the lower and general 
 mind, reacting upon those who ought to be its teachers.” 
 
 As a political economist, Mr. Ruskin is uo less eloquent 
 and vehemenFfhan he i3 as an art teacher. Neither is he 
 less misunderstood, nor less abused. The various attacks 
 to which he has been exposed on account of his politico- 
 economical teachings are all based upon a gross miscon¬ 
 ception of the character and tendency of his views. It is 
 assumed by his critics and detractors that Mr. Ruskin is 
 diametrically opposed to Adam Smith and all the lesser 
 lights of the politico-economical school on the fundamental 
 
 principles of their science. This is a mistake. The re- 
 -------—- ! 
 
 * Mr. Kuskin, since this was written, has given evidence in support of Turner’s 
 goodness of heart. 
 
 lation of Mr. Ruskin to the political economists is one 
 rather of comprehension than of antagonism. His political 
 economy includes all, or almost all, that they maintain, 
 and a great deal more. He believes as firmly as any of 
 them, that by “buying in the cheapest market and selling 
 in the dearest,” by the working of the strength and skill 
 of the labourer to the point of exhaustion, and the re¬ 
 duction of his wages to the point of starvation, capital 
 may be made to yield a large interest, and large individual 
 fortunes be speedily realized. But in addition to all this, 
 he believes that buying in the cheapest market and selling 
 in the dearest is not the chief end of man’s existence; 
 that a nation may be very rich, and at the same time very 
 weak and contemptible ; that riches may be a curse instead 
 of a blessing; and that, in the estimation of God, the 
 spiritual life and moral condition of the worker is of infi¬ 
 nitely greater importance than the perishable wealth which 
 he is employed in creating or accumulating. In brief, Mr. 
 Ruskin believes and teaches that man, even on earth, has 
 higher duties to perform, higher results to aim at, and 
 higher rewards to gain, than are either indicated or in¬ 
 culcated in the teachings of the modern expounders of the 
 science of national wealth. He opposes the perversion of 
 the science, not its principles; and this perversion is accom¬ 
 plished when political economy is held to justify the trans¬ 
 gression of the Ten Commandments, and the suppression 
 of that higher law of morality revealed and inculcated in 
 the Sermon on the Mount. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin’s politico-economical opinions are con¬ 
 tained in several distinct treatises, but they are also dif¬ 
 fused throughout the whole of his books. They may all 
 be described as having the eradication of human vice, and 
 the Godward development of human nature, for their sole 
 object. Mr. Ruskin is remarkable not more for his 
 eloquence than for the profound and lofty humanity of 
 his nature. His tenderness towards the poor is one of 
 the mainsprings of his indignation at the prevailing style 
 of our domestic architecture. This tenderness frequently 
 crops up quite unexpectedly, to the surprise and some¬ 
 times the inconvenience of his hearers or readers. Thus 
 at Edinburgh, when pointing out the preferableness of the 
 Gothic porch to the Greek portico as an entrance to our 
 houses, he adds, after dilating on its superior architec¬ 
 tural recommendations :—“ And if now and then a way¬ 
 farer found a moment’s rest on a stone seat on each side 
 of it (the Gothic porch), I believe you would find the 
 insides of vour houses not one whit the less comfortable; 
 and if you will answer me, that were such refuges built 
 in the open street, they would become mere nests of filthy 
 vagrants, I reply, that I do not despair of such a change 
 in the administration of the poor-laws of this country, as 
 shall no longer leave any of our fellow-creatures in a state 
 in which they would pollute the steps of our houses by 
 resting upon them for a night. But if not, the command 
 to all of us is strict and straight, ‘ When thou seest the 
 naked, that thou cover him, and that thou bring the poor 
 that are cast out to thy house.’* Not to the workhouse. 
 
 * Isaiah, lvii. 7. 
 
 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 38 
 
 observe, but to thy house; and I say it would be better 
 a thousandfold that our doors should be beset by the poor 
 day by day, than that it should be written of any one of 
 us, f They reap every one his corn in the field, and they 
 gather the vintage of the wicked. They cause the naked 
 to lodge without shelter, that they have no covering in 
 the cold. They are with the showers of the mountains, 
 and embrace the rocks for want of shelter.’ ”* 
 
 His indignation at what he considers the perversion of 
 political economy finds expression in some very striking 
 phraseology. The placing of the maxims of modern 
 political economy in opposition to or in dominion over 
 the beneficent promptings of the human heart, and the 
 imperative injunctions of the Christian religion, he regards 
 as the peculiar and prevalent infidelity of England at the 
 present day. 
 
 “ The form which the infidelity of England especially 
 has taken is one hitherto unheard of in human history. 
 No nation ever before declared boldly, by print and word- 
 of-mouth, that its religion was good for show, but ‘ would 
 not work.’ Over and over again it has happened that 
 nations have denied their gods, but they denied them 
 bravely. The Greeks in their decline jested at their reli¬ 
 gion, and frittered it away in flatteries and fine arts. The 
 French refused theirs fiercely, tore down their altars, and 
 broke their carven images. The question about God with 
 both these nations was still, even in their decline, fairly 
 put, though falsely answered. ‘ Either there is or there 
 is not a Supreme Ruler; we consider of it, declare there 
 is not, and proceed accordingly.’ But the English have 
 put the matter in an entirely different light. ‘ There is 
 a Supreme Ruler—no question of it—only he cannot rule. 
 His orders wont work. He will be quite satisfied with 
 euphonious and respectful repetition of them. Execu¬ 
 tion would be too dangerous under existing circumstances, 
 which He certainly never contemplated.’ ” 
 
 Mr. Ruskin continues :—“ I had no conception of the 
 absolute darkness which has covered the national mind in 
 this respect until I began to come into collision with 
 persons engaged in the study of economical and political 
 questions. The entire naivete and undisturbed imbecility 
 with which I fouud them declare that the laws of the 
 devil were the only practicable ones, and that the laws of 
 God were merely a form of poetical language, passed all 
 that I had ever before heard or read of mortal infidelity. 
 I knew the fool had often said in his heart, there was no 
 God ; but to hear him say clearly out with his lips, e There 
 is a foolish God,’ was something which my art studies had 
 not prepared me for. The French had, indeed, for a con¬ 
 siderable time hinted much of the meaning in the delicate 
 and compassionate blasphemy of their phrase, ‘ le bon Dieu ,’ 
 but had never ventured to put it into more precise terms.” 
 
 “ Correlative with the assertion, £ There is a foolish 
 God,’ is the assertion, ‘ There is a brutish man.’ As no 
 laws but those of the devil are practicable in the world, so 
 no impulses but those of the brute (says the modern poli¬ 
 tical economist) are appealable to in the world. Faith, 
 
 * Job xiv. 6—8. 
 
 generosity, honesty, zeal, and self-sacrifice are poetical 
 phrases. None of these things can in reality be counted 
 upon; there is no truth in man which can be used as a 
 moving or productive power. All motive force in him is 
 essentially brutish, covetous, or contentious; his power is 
 only power of prey—otherwise than the spider he cannot 
 design, otherwise than the tiger he cannot feed. This is 
 the modern interpretation of that embarrassing article of 
 the Ci’eed, ‘ The Communion of Saints.’ ” 
 
 The politico-economical opinions of Mr. Ruskin are not 
 of recent adoption. Alore than twenty years ago he em¬ 
 bodied them in one of the finest fairy tales in the lan¬ 
 guage. It is called “ The King of the Golden River; or, 
 the Black Brothers.” The scene of this tale is laid in 
 Styria. The personages are three brothers, Hans, 
 Schwartz, and Gluck, and the King of the Golden River. 
 Hans and Schwartz are hard-fisted and still harder- 
 hearted farmers. They are intended as types of the in¬ 
 hospitable and merciless men of wealth. Gluck, the 
 youngest brother, is a sort of boy Cinderella, who re¬ 
 ceives more kicks, cuffs, and hard words than food or 
 wages. He is the very opposite of his brothers. By 
 means of a sudden flood, the wealthy farmers are reduced 
 to complete destitution. Poor little Gluck hires himself 
 to a goldsmith, and his two brothers live upon the produce 
 of his industry. While engaged at his work, an appa¬ 
 rition rises out of the melting-pot, which tells Gluck that 
 by pouring three drops of holy water in the source of 
 the river, it will for him be changed unto a golden river. 
 Gluck informs his brothers of this vision. Each of these 
 resolves to be the first to comply with the condition which 
 is to change the stream into gold. So Hans goes and 
 steals a whole bottleful of holy water. In his ascent to 
 the source of the stream, he meets a poor dog dying from 
 the effects of thirst; but hard-hearted Hans will not give 
 him a drop. He next meets a worn-out old man, also 
 perishing for want of water; but Hans treats the old man 
 as he treated the dog. Still further up the steep and 
 flinty mountain-path he meets a little child evidently 
 gasping forth its last breath, through the effects of ex¬ 
 cessive thirst; but the child fares no better at the hands 
 of Hans than fared the old man and the dog. At length 
 he reaches the source of the river, and pours the remains 
 of his bottle (the rest was drank by himself on his way 
 up) into the spring-head of the river. But the stream 
 rejects the impious offering, and Hans himself is trans¬ 
 formed into a black stone. 
 
 Schwartz starts next upon the same expedition, but 
 instead of stealing the holy water, he buys some of a bad 
 priest. Schwartz encountered the same adventures, ex¬ 
 hibited the same heartlessness, and underwent the same 
 fate as Hans. 
 
 It was now Gluck’s turn to try his fortune. This he 
 did, but instead of either stealing or buying the holy 
 water, he obtained some by the mere asking from a good 
 priest. The petitioners for Gluck’s charity are reversed in 
 the order of their appeals to him. First he meets the little 
 child, then the old man, and both of whom are promptly 
 and unhesitatingly relieved. At length he meets the poor 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 dog. But by this time bis stock of holy water is reduced 
 to uo more than three drops. Gluck is sorely tempted to 
 pass on and leave the perishing animal to his fate. But 
 a second look at the poor panting creature conquers this 
 inclination. “ Confound the gold/’ exclaims the kind- 
 hearted Gluck, “ I can do without it, but I cannot see 
 this poor dog perish for want of the water which I have 
 to bestow.” He pours the three drops of holy water into 
 the mouth of the dog, when lo ! what was a moment be¬ 
 fore but a dying, cur is changed into the King of the 
 Golden River. Hans is startled, but the King tells him 
 that he has nothing to fear, bids him look to the ground, 
 where he espies a lily, on one of the leaves of which were 
 just three drops of dew which the heat of the sun had not 
 yet caused to exhale. ff Take these,” said the King, “ and 
 pour them into the source of the river.” He did so, and 
 the stream from that moment became unto little Gluck a 
 river of gold. 
 
 The moral of this delightful story, of which we have 
 given but the bare skeleton, is that <c the water which has 
 been refused to the cry of the weary and dying is unholy, 
 though it had been blessed by every saint in Heaven; and 
 the water which is found in the vessel of mercy is holy, 
 though it had been defiled with corpses.” 
 
 In the course of this article our object has been to ac¬ 
 quaint our readers with the theories of this deep thinker 
 and eloquent writer, by means of his own words. We have 
 endeavoured, too, within a brief compass, to let Mr. Ruskin 
 be his own expounder. In conclusion, we have only to 
 observe, that though we are very far from holding him to 
 be an infallible guide on any one of the manifold subjects 
 w r hicli have been the themes of his brilliant discoursings, 
 we do hold and maintain him to be a most honest and en¬ 
 lightened one. More than this, we believe him to be one 
 of the healthiest writers in our language. W r e know of 
 no better moral tonic, no more effectual counteractive to 
 the enervating influences of the fashionable and popular 
 literature of the present day, than the works of Mr. 
 Ruskin. In addition to this, there is, in the purity of his 
 style, the genial play of his fancy, and the regal opulence 
 of his imagination, a charm which cannot but commend 
 his productions to every properly educated intellect. 
 Though still a comparatively young man, he has already 
 gained for himself a lofty and permanent place in the 
 literature of his country. But literature with him is en¬ 
 tirely subordinate to the moral and spiritual amelioration 
 of his fellow-creatures; and the chief, if not sole, aim of 
 his books is to overthrow the worship of the false and the 
 impure—establish the religion of the good, the true, and 
 the beautiful—to teach the artists of his native land the 
 principles and practices which conduce to real excellence, 
 and the people and rulers that wisdom which never relies 
 upon evil for the attainment of their object—that hu¬ 
 manity which is never deaf to the cry of the oppressed— 
 and that righteousness, as a rule of action, without which 
 a powerful nation is a nuisance and a pest, which in the 
 eternal interests of the human race it is a bounden duty 
 to destroy, unless repentance and reformation shall render 
 it worthy of a place in the moral economy of the universe. 
 
 PUBLIC MONUMENTS. 
 
 PYRAMIDS. 
 
 We resume the question, What monument shall be erected 
 to a man whom a nation delighteth to honour ? 
 
 Every people will have its own method of expressing 
 its appreciation of merit, whatever phase it may assume; 
 but all agree that the memory of the virtuous dead should 
 be preserved in some enduring form that shall appeal to 
 the public eye, and tell to future generations how nobly 
 some men have lived, and how highly their labours have 
 been appreciated by others. The services to be comme¬ 
 morated will be various. One man will have explored 
 unknown countries, will have increased our knowledge of 
 the habitable globe, and opened up new fields of enter¬ 
 prise and wealth for mankind. The eye of another will 
 have penetrated the arcana of the heavens, mapped out 
 the face of the sky, and made the stars the sign-posts for 
 ocean voyages. Another will have brought to light some 
 hidden treasure that has been buried in the earth since 
 the rocks were formed, and supplies us with a new metal 
 or other commodity. Science, too, has its heroes; reli¬ 
 gion, its saints and martyrs; literature, its sages; inspi¬ 
 ration, its poets; government, its good kings and princes, 
 and its wise statesmen; and after all these come those 
 patriots “ who for their country’s good in fighting fields 
 were prodigal of blood.” These and many more Avill 
 have claims on the gratitude of mankind which every 
 noble nation is proud to pay. Neither is humanity nig¬ 
 gardly in meeting this debt, as the numerous monuments 
 of every nation, ancient as well as modern, sufficiently 
 attest. The form of giving expression to the feeling has 
 changed, but “ one touch of nature makes the whole 
 world kin” upon this sentiment. 
 
 It seems vain and ridiculous to us for a man to erect 
 his own monument, and yet some of the greatest tombs 
 and trophies in the world are said to have had no other 
 origin than this. The pyramids of Egypt, if we may 
 credit historians, were built by kings as sepulchres for 
 themselves. And the buildings, when explored, have 
 afforded some evidence to this effect. And yet they are 
 certainly the most wonderful monuments that the skill 
 and industry of man have ever raised. 
 
 Every one knows the account given by Herodotus of 
 the building of the Great Pyramid; how Cheops closed 
 the temples, stopped the sacrifices, and made everybody 
 work for him; how one hundred thousand men were em¬ 
 ployed at a time, and were relieved by the same number 
 at the end of three months; how ten years were spent in 
 constructing the road leading to it, and twenty on the pyra¬ 
 mid itself; how he saw the inscription engraved upon it 
 which told how much had been expended in vegetables to 
 feed the builders, which amounted to one thousand six 
 hundred talents of silver, and how he was amazed at the 
 greatness of the sum that must also have been expended 
 in iron tools, bread, and clothes for the labourers during 
 the whole long course of years over which their labours 
 extended. He enumerates, also, amongst the wonderful 
 things pertaining to those buildings, subterranean struc- 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 10 
 
 tures, which he again mentions as made by the king for 
 purposes of sepulture, in an island formed by the waters 
 of the Nile, which he introduced into them by a canal. 
 
 In the very first dawn of history, then, in what seems 
 to us the morning of the world, stand those pyramids, 
 the first great landmarks on the shores of time. They 
 are not only the oldest, they are the greatest monuments 
 of the world. Their representing the toil of a hundred 
 thousand men for thirty years is not the only significant 
 thing about them. They present us at the very dawn of 
 history with a great kingdom that is rich enough to afford 
 this immense industrial army to labour for so many years 
 upon a non-productive work. But they do even more 
 than this—they tell us of architects in whose brains vast 
 conceptions were formed; of engineers who understood 
 all the mechanical appliances ; that reading, writing, ma¬ 
 thematics, astronomy, the use of iron, gold, and precious 
 stones were known to them. “At that time,” says a 
 popular writer, “men were living very much as we do, 
 without some knowledge that we have gained, but in pos¬ 
 session of some arts which we have not. They confound 
 us by their mute exhibition of iron tools and steel armour, 
 their great range of manufactures, and their feasts and 
 sports so like our own. In their kitchens they decant 
 wine by a syphon and stew their sweet cakes with seeds, 
 and pound their spices in a mortar. In the drawing-room 
 they lounge on chaises-longues, and the ladies knit and 
 net as we do, and darn better than we can. I saw at 
 Dr. Abbott’s a piece of mending left unfinished several 
 thousand years ago, which any Englishwoman might be 
 satisfied with or proud of. In the nursery the little girls 
 had dolls—-jointed dolls, with bunchy hair and long eyes, 
 as our dolls have blue eyes and fair tresses; and the 
 babies, not the little bow-wow dogs which yelp in our 
 nurseries, but little wooden crocodiles with snapping jaws. 
 In the country we see the agriculturalist taking stock, 
 and in the towns the population divided into castes, sub¬ 
 ject to laws and living under a theocracy long before the 
 supposed time of the Deluge. There is enough here to 
 teach us some humility and patience about the true his¬ 
 tory of the world.”* 
 
 It is pleasing to us to know that the builders of those 
 vast monuments were not sunk in barbarism, nor lost in 
 a dark superstition. They worshipped one supreme God, 
 and the highest object set before them was purity of life 
 and rectitude of conduct. Their highest aspirations were 
 directed to the glory and favour of God in this life, and 
 acceptance with him hereafter. Their conceptions of 
 death were that it was a passage to an eternal existence. 
 Doubtless there was evil in the world then as now, for 
 the leprosy of sin is universal; but we are glad to know 
 that the people to whom civilization is so much indebted 
 for the arts and sciences which ennoble mankind had 
 their seasons of joy as well as ourselves, and that they 
 did not live to curse their breath nor die without 
 hope. 
 
 It will give us an exalted idea of the inventive faculty 
 
 * “Eastern Life, Past and Present.” 
 
 of this great people if we reflect on the thousand difficul¬ 
 ties which stood in the way of the first workers in iron 
 and stone; and be it remembered those Egyptians wrought 
 in the very hardest materials—granite, serpentine, and 
 porphyry. They also used large stones in all their 
 buildings. When Abdallatif, the Arabian, was in Egypt 
 (a.d. 1196), he saw the sappers, miners, and quarrymen of 
 the Sultan Melie-alaziz Othman-ben Yousouf endea¬ 
 vouring to destroy the pyramid. “ Observing one day,” 
 says he, “what extremely heavy work it was to remove a 
 single stone, I addressed one of the superintendents who 
 was directing the -workmen, and put this question to him. 
 ‘ If any one offered you a thousand pieces of gold to replace 
 one of these stones, and adjust it as it was before, do you 
 think you could accomplish it?’ His answer was, that if 
 many times as much were offered, they could do no such 
 thing; and this he affirmed with an oath.” Yet these 
 vast blocks of granite were cut, polished, and many of 
 them covered with inscriptions, transported over great 
 distances, and finally raised four hundred and fifty feet 
 high to the top of the Great Pyramid. Such were some of 
 the great difficulties overcome by those famous builders in 
 the Valley of the Nile, many centuries before the days of 
 Abraham. And the story of what they did and how they 
 did it, together with their daily life, their purpose in this 
 world, their faith in the future, they have painted in im¬ 
 perishable colours upon the sides of their graves and 
 temples, and it remains there now, fresh as when the hand 
 of the artist left it. 
 
 According to the measurement of General Vyse, the 
 present perpendicular height of the Great Pyramid is 
 450 feet 9 inches, and its present base 746 feet. It 
 is about 80 feet lower than it was originally, in conse¬ 
 quence of much of the outer masonry having been torn off, 
 as well as the casing-stones; and its base is likewise 
 smaller. General Vyse gives the former height as 
 480 feet 9 inches, and the former base as 764 feet. 
 Like all the other pyramids, it faces the cardinal points. 
 At the completion of the pyramids, the faces were smooth 
 and polished, but now they present a series of great steps, 
 and are much broken. It is difficult to give an idea of 
 the vast dimensions of this structure to the ordinary reader. 
 Imagine a base covering the whole area of Lincoln’s-Inn- 
 Fields and of the row of houses that surround it, tapering 
 gradually upwards until the summit is nearly 500 feet 
 above the ground on which we are standing; that the 
 whole of this mass is composed of huge blocks of stone, 
 some of them scores, if not hundreds of tons weight, that 
 have been brought from far-distant quarries, and raised 
 here with consummate skill, to appease the vanity of one 
 —if historians speak truly—bad man. 
 
 Of the interior structure of the pyramids we know much, 
 but certainly not all. Several passages and chambers 
 have been discovered which had formerly been used as 
 tombs, but the contents of the greater part of the building 
 are at present only guessed at. It is said that when a 
 pistol is fired in one of the chambers, that there are scores 
 of echoes and vibrations, which indicate that there are 
 many hollow portions that no one has yet been able to 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 41 
 
 penetrate. It is not improbable that the edifice is honey¬ 
 combed with chambers. 
 
 On the grand and imposing effect of those structures, 
 the Arab writer before referred to says : “ The form which 
 has been adopted in the construction of the pyramids, and 
 the solidity which has been given them, are well worthy 
 of admiration. It is to their form that they owe the ad¬ 
 vantage of having resisted the hostility of centuries, or 
 rather it seems as if it were time which had resisted the 
 opposition of these eternal edifices. Indeed, when we 
 meditate deeply on the construction of the pyramids, we 
 are compelled to acknowledge that men of the greatest 
 genius have here employed in combination their best 
 powers, and that the subtlest minds have exhausted their 
 deepest resources; that the most enlightened souls have 
 exercised in profusion all the abilities that they possessed 
 which could be applied to those constructions, and that 
 the wisest theory of geometry has employed all its means 
 to produce these wonders, as the last point of astonish¬ 
 ment which it was possible to reach. Thus we may say 
 that these edifices speak to us now of those who reared 
 them, teach us their history, open to us in an intelligible 
 manner the progress which they had made in the sciences 
 and the excellence of their abilities;—in a word, they put 
 us in possession of the life and actions of the men of 
 former days.” 
 
 An absurd idea seems to have taken possession of the 
 Mahometans in the twelfth century—namely, that those 
 pyramids and tombs of the early kings of Egypt con¬ 
 tained immense treasures. Hence their desire to de¬ 
 molish them. For this purpose whole armies of sappers 
 and miners were sent to pull them down; but all they 
 attained, after months of toil, was a mere breaking of the 
 superficial casing. As the old Arab author from whom 
 we have been quoting says, “ Far from obtaining the 
 result they had anticipated, and succeeding in their design, 
 they ended by doing nothing but spoiling the pyramid and 
 evidencing their own powerlessness. When one looks at 
 the stones brought down in the course of the demolition, 
 one is persuaded that the pyramid has been destroyed 
 from its foundation; but when, on the other hand, one 
 looks up at the pyramid, one believes that it has suffered 
 no injury whatever, and that nothing has happened 
 but the paring off of a portion of the casing of one of the 
 sides.” 
 
 The great calamity, however, which we have to deplore 
 in the destruction of the external casing of the pyramids, 
 is that the inscriptions that they once bore are now irre¬ 
 trievably lost. The same authority last quoted, in another 
 part of his work, says —“ These pyramids are constructed 
 of great stones, from ten to twenty cubits long, and two 
 or three cubits in breadth and thickness. The most admi¬ 
 rable particular of the whole is the extreme nicety with 
 which these stones have been prepared and adjusted. 
 Their adjustment is so precise, that not even a needle or 
 hair can be inserted between any two of them ; they are 
 joined by a cement laid on to the thickness of a piece of 
 paper; I cannot tell what the mortar is made of, it being 
 of a substance entirely unknown to me. These stones are 
 2 
 
 covered with writing in that unknown character whose import 
 is at this day wholly unknown. I have not met in Egypt 
 with any person who could say that he knew, even by 
 hearsay, of any one who understood this character. These 
 inscriptions are so multitudinous, that if those only that 
 are seen on the surface of these two pyramids were copied 
 upon paper, more than ten thousand pages would be filled 
 with them.” Here, then, is matter for deep and lasting 
 regret. It is not that barbarous hands attempted to 
 destroy what noble men thousands of years before had 
 erected, but it is that the earliest known record of the 
 world’s history perished in that atrocious sacrilege. Nor 
 can those precious relics ever be restored, and we are 
 obliged to have recourse to the traditions preserved by 
 Herodotus, Diodorus, and other historians, and a few 
 fragments of hieroglyphic inscriptions, for all we know 
 of the building of those wonderful edifices. With the 
 usual positivity which belongs to all researches into pri¬ 
 mitive history, we learn that it is not quite certain that 
 Cheops built the Great Pyramid at all. Bunsen, quoting 
 Diodorus, gives the following totally different tradition of 
 the builders of the three great pyramids, which he says is 
 certainly worthy of attention. Armseus built the first, 
 Amosis the second, and Maron the third. But be this as 
 it may, the demolition is still going on. Bunsen says 
 (vol. ii. p. 105) :—“ The history of the mutilation of these 
 wonderful works of Menes proves that curiosity and a 
 hope of finding hidden treasure induced the Caliphs to 
 force an entrance into them. In later times, principally 
 under Saladin, the pyramids, and their casing more par¬ 
 ticularly, were regularly used as stone-quarries. Mame¬ 
 luke violence and love of destruction completed the sacri¬ 
 lege as far as the giant masses would permit. The present 
 Government builds cotton manufactories and powder 
 magazines out of the tombs of the old Pharaohs.” 
 
 There are at Geezeh three great pyramids; we have 
 already given the dimensions of the first, and the second 
 is only 21 feet 6 inches less in height. Its dimensions 
 were—base, 707 feet 9 inches; in perpendicular height, 
 445 feet 3 inches. The third is of less dimensions than 
 the second. They have all been opened ; and it is certain 
 that the second was the tomb of Chepliren or Shafre, for 
 although the Arabs who broke into the sepulchre chamber 
 in the twelfth century opened the sarcophagus and carried 
 away or destroyed the mummy, fortunately a piece of the 
 coffin and the finger-ring of the king whose tomb it was 
 have lately been discovered, with his name painted on the 
 one and engraven in the other. It is thus that those 
 simple fragments, the wreck of hoary antiquity, restore to 
 us again a dynasty that had long been forgotten, and 
 the purpose for which they erected those vast structures 
 which have ever since been reckoned the world’s greatest 
 wonders. There are a great number of pyramids besides 
 those already mentioned, but for the purpose we have in 
 view it is not necessary to describe them. 
 
 It may, we believe, be taken for granted that the 
 pyramids were not built to gratify the vanity of one 
 tyrant, if indeed tyranny had anything to do with the 
 matter; but that they were erected as family sepulchres 
 
 G 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 42 
 
 for the great kings who were then reigning over a mighty 
 and prosperous nation. To us it is an ancient fiction, 
 that despots who would only be remembered to be hated 
 built those monuments to themselves, since no one else 
 was likely to honour them. We rather incline to the 
 belief, spite of all that Herodotus has said to the contrary, 
 that they were raised by willing hands and paid for in 
 sterling coin. No people could have been so great, and 
 at the same time so debased, as those early Egyptians are 
 represented to have been. 
 
 But apart from these speculations altogether, those 
 time-defying monuments of primaeval ages are before us ; 
 and although the inscriptions that they once bore have 
 perished, their own mute appeal is as eloquent as ever. 
 What is their meaning ? They are significant of tranquil, 
 eternal, indestructible repose. It was a grand str uggle to 
 battle successfully with the mutations of time, and em¬ 
 body the eternal essence of the soul in the perishable 
 works of man. It was a gigantic effort of the mind to 
 triumph over the dissolution of the body, and inform 
 posterity in remote ages that a mighty nation once dwelt 
 here. And in this they have been eminently successful. 
 “All things dread time, but time dreads the pyramids/-’ 
 says Abdullatif. They have triumphed over five thousand 
 years, have survived the mutilation of the Caliphs and 
 their successors, and they will in all probability maintain 
 their grandeur when the followers of the Prophet shall, 
 like the Druids, have passed from the face of the earth; 
 and other races having other creeds shall gaze upon them 
 with the same wonder that we now regard their vast pro¬ 
 portions. Already they have outlived nations, civilizations, 
 religions, and even races of mankind, and they seem 
 destined to outlive all others that we now behold. 
 
 Whatever our admiration for these structures may be, 
 they can never be rivalled, perhaps never imitated. It is 
 the only thing that antiquity has bequeathed to us that we 
 may not hope to place ourselves on a par with them. In 
 poetry, philosophy, mathematics, and mechanics, we may 
 compare ourselves with the great nations of the ancient 
 world, and claim an excellence to which we are justly 
 entitled ; but in building, sculpture, and some other arts, 
 they were undoubtedly our rivals. At all events, no 
 modern nation will ever think of attempting to rival 
 Cheops in his wonderful undertaking. Once for all, men 
 have extracted the all-consuming tooth of time. We can 
 only guess at the period when the pyramids were built. 
 It may be five thousand years ago; it may be more; but 
 the period of their destruction is more incalculable still, 
 they appear firm as the everlasting hills, and may, for 
 what we know, last for ever. They are the greatest, the 
 most enduring works of men, and with our present 
 thoughts and appliances are inimitable. 
 
 Historical Value of Aechitectube. —Architecture is the print- 
 ing-press of all ages, and gives a history to the state of the society in 
 which it was erected, from the cromlech of the Druids to those toyshops 
 of royal bad taste—Carlton House and the Brighton Pavilion. The 
 Tower and Westminster Abbey are glorious pages in the history of 
 time, and tell the story of an iron despotism, and the cowardice of un¬ 
 limited power.— Lady Morgan. 
 
 STUDIES OF MODERN ARCHITECTURE AT 
 HOME AND ABROAD. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 BY G. II. BURNELL, ESQ. 
 
 In Count Leon de Laborde’s Report upon the operations 
 of the French Commission to the Exhibition of 1851, that 
 eminent critic mentioned one fact which may explain to 
 a great extent the singular uniformity of taste to be ob¬ 
 served in the buildings erected during the period of the 
 Empire and of the Restoration. This consisted in the law 
 by which local authorities were obliged to submit to the 
 Conseil des Batiments every project for works supposed to 
 exceed in value the sum of 40/. In 1821, the limit of in¬ 
 dependent action of the local authorities was extended to 
 800/.; but all buildings presenting anything like a decora¬ 
 tive character were still subject to the supervision of the 
 Conseil. Necessarily, under such a system, the architec¬ 
 ture of our neighbours assumed a dry, academic character, 
 devoid of local inspiration and of originality, even whilst 
 it was maintained within the limits of school traditions. 
 When the Revolution of 1830 burst upon Europe, the re¬ 
 action against the principle of authority that movement 
 represented led men, however, to turn aside from all the 
 old models they had been taught to worship ; and practi¬ 
 cally to adopt as a maxim that whatever had been patro¬ 
 nized by the state, as personified by the later dynasties, 
 was an indication of the servility of its followers. Par¬ 
 tially on this account, and partially on account of the 
 revived interest with which artists and philosophers alike 
 turned back to the history and archaeology of the middle 
 ages, the French architects were led to study and to re¬ 
 produce the arts which had then prevailed, for in many 
 respects they were markedly different from those of the 
 periods when monarchy was in its apogee. Periods of 
 great political excitement and trouble are not, however, 
 adapted to the advancement of peaceful art, and so the 
 buildings of the first years of the reign of Louis Philippe 
 can hardly be said to have borne any distinctly marked 
 character exclusively their own, although the grave ques¬ 
 tions of morals and religion were dragged into the full 
 glare of public discussion, and were treated with a boldness 
 and a want of deference to precedent or authority we must 
 even now consider startling. It is fair to suppose that 
 this rage for psychological inquiries must have reacted 
 upon the artistic expression of the age; for the religion 
 of Le Pere Enfantin certainly nourished such men as 
 Michel Chevalier, the Pereres, Felicien David, Fould, &c., 
 who subsequently have played so distinguished a part on 
 the world’s stage. But society was in far too disturbed a 
 state during the early years of the reign of the Citizen King, 
 and for his own political purposes Louis Philippe affected 
 too great an admiration of the tastes and habits of the 
 “bourgeoisie,” to allow him to devote much attention to the 
 character of the architecture patronized by the state; 
 whilst at the same time the feeling of uncertainty, the 
 want of confidence in the stability of the Government, 
 prevented any useful action of private parties upon the ex¬ 
 ternal expression of the arts of design. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 43 
 
 About this period, however, the movement in favour of 
 the reproduction of the forms of art adopted in the me¬ 
 diaeval period had become generally fashionable, instead of 
 being, as it were, the characteristic of a peculiar literary 
 school; but both in France and in England the phase of 
 medievalism which was received with the greatest favour 
 during the period between 1830 and 1836 was that of the 
 respective local revivals of the later portions of the six¬ 
 teenth century; in civil buildings at least. The tendency 
 to regard the architecture of the thirteenth century as 
 exclusively “ Christian” was, in the meantime, making way 
 amongst the partisans of the principle of authority in re¬ 
 ligious matters ; and, perhaps by a natural consequence of 
 their mode of reasoning, they were led more and more to 
 regard the form of art which prevailed when the Church 
 was all-powerful as the one most fitted for ecclesiastical 
 structures. The pseudo-Greek and the pseudo-classical 
 schools of England and of France nevertheless retained a 
 strong hold on the public administrations of the two coun¬ 
 tries, and the General Post Office, the Bi’itish Museum, 
 the London University, the National Gallery, the Fish¬ 
 mongers’ and Goldsmiths’ Halls, the Downing College, 
 the University Library, and the Fitzwilliam Museum, 
 Cambridge (although, perhaps, the latter may be of rather 
 a later date than the one immediately under consideration), 
 may be cited as illustrations of the taste prevailing here 
 in high quarters; whilst in France the Government was 
 so much engaged in the struggle with the Revolution, that 
 it was only able to finish the monuments commenced by 
 its predecessors, and to mark its own tendencies by such 
 operations as the erection of the Colonne de la Bastille, 
 the fountains and the obelisk of la Place de la Concorde, 
 the levelling of some of the quays, the construction of 
 some flimsy wire suspension-bridges, and the construction 
 of some buildings of mark in the provinces, such as the 
 Custom-house of Rouen, &c. Emphatically, the period 
 between 1830 and 1836 was a barren one for art through¬ 
 out Europe, and though it may have served to rouse the 
 nobler faculties of men’s minds by causing them to examine 
 themselves, and the reasons for the faith which was iq 
 them, it was not until society had again resumed a stable 
 form, and men began to weary of the incessant feverish 
 excitement of those sad years, that the arts of peace and 
 civilization began once more to reassume their sway. It 
 is also to be observed, that the political agitation which 
 thus retarded the artistic progress of the leading nations 
 of Western Europe did not spare the secondary ones. 
 Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Holland, were then either 
 passing through the crisis of a transition from despotic 
 to constitutional government, or of a violent disruption of 
 a previous union, accompanied by the evils of civil war or 
 of foreign intervention. Russia, too, had her struggle to 
 maintain with Poland; Italy was either sunk in apathy 
 or occasionally quivering under the detested rule of the 
 foreigner. Germany was more tranquil, and it was pre¬ 
 cisely there that architecture seems to have been culti¬ 
 vated with the most success in the period alluded to; and 
 the monuments then erected in the Prussian, Bavarian, 
 Austrian, and Saxon cities, supply the only evidence of the 
 
 continued activity of the progressive development of the 
 art. Unfortunately, however, the rigid pedantic spirit of 
 German esthetics, and the tendency of the German artists 
 to substitute archaeological investigations for the enthu¬ 
 siastic studies of the eternal laws of beauty, combined with 
 the fatal influence of the sneering scepticism of Goethe 
 and of his pupils, all tended to deprive the German school 
 of this period of the spontaneity of feeling, and of the 
 frank earnestness of devotion to art for art’s sake, without 
 which nothing truly original or great can be produced. 
 
 After 1836, the government of Louis Philippe succeeded 
 in mastering for a time the revolutionary parties of France ; 
 England began to settle quietly into the new order of 
 things produced by the great change in her constitution 
 by the Reform Bill; Belgium began to assert her nation¬ 
 ality by entering on a vigorous course of internal im¬ 
 provement, under the guidance of the able, judicious king 
 who has for so many years carried her through the diffi¬ 
 culties of her position. Italy and Spain were still in the 
 throes of foreign occupation, of divided rule, or civil war ; 
 but their agitation did not sensibly affect the rest of 
 Europe, whilst the great German race continued the 
 work of intellectual national centralization which is one of 
 the most marked tendencies of the age. There was, in 
 fact, a lull in the storm of politics, and the great conquests 
 of peace diverted men’s attention from the more exciting 
 and more costly agitations of the preceding lustre; for it 
 was about 1836 that the system of railway locomotion, so 
 brilliantly inaugurated in England in 1830, began to be 
 seriously adopted on the Continent. Yinet remarked that 
 there is a tendency in societies exempt from great excite¬ 
 ments to return to the romantic ; and it is curious that the 
 productions of the period between 1836 and 1848, during 
 the lull between one democratic outbreak and its successor, 
 should precisely have borne this character. Throughout 
 the civilized world, in fact, at this time, men seem to have 
 turned aside from the study of the great models of an¬ 
 tiquity in art and in literature, and from the attempt to 
 discover and apply the somewhat cold and simple laws of 
 harmony and proportion, in order to follow the more pic¬ 
 turesque and capricious forms of art which had arisen in 
 a previous period of transition. Our own Houses of Par¬ 
 liament, the alterations of the Hotel de Ville of Paris, 
 with the extension of the Ecole des Beaux Arts, and the 
 completion of the works of Cologne Cathedral, may be 
 cited as amongst the most marked illustrations of the 
 spirit of the times. But a rather curious difference seems 
 to have prevailed in these three great nations in the period 
 of Mediaeval art they respectively selected as their models. 
 In E ngland, after trying all the styles of the so-called 
 Gothic architecture, public opinion seemed to have settled 
 into a decided preference for the variety known by the 
 name of the “ Decorated Pointed” (we speak of the 
 interval between 1836 and 1848). In France, the Re¬ 
 naissance of the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of 
 sixteenth centuries was adopted ; whilst in Germany, the 
 form of Medievalism selected for imitation was the one 
 known on the Continent by the terms Romane or Byzantin, 
 “ Romanische Byzantinischer Baustyl.” In all of them, 
 
 G 2 
 
a 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 however, the tradition of the classical and of the pseudo- 
 classical schools of the Italy of the sixteenth century 
 struggled to retain their hold on the public mind, with 
 gradually waning power, and with less and less sympathy 
 on the part of the public. In England, the church archi¬ 
 tecture became, under the influence of the Ecclesiological 
 Societies, exclusively Mediaeval; and an unblushing system 
 of copyism of the productions of an extinct form of 
 civilization and faith prevalent in the feudal times only 
 was substituted for an equally lifeless and unmeaning 
 copyism of the forms of Grecian architecture; because, 
 according to the leaders of this movement, the Mediaeval 
 form was exclusively “ Christian !” In France, the eccle¬ 
 siological revival did not gain the ascendancy till a much 
 later period; and though Messrs, de Caumont, Lassus, 
 Lenoir, Viollet le Due, had laboured earnestly to spread 
 the taste of the Mediaeval art of their own country, and 
 the Ministers of Worship and of the Interior in the later 
 periods of the reign of Louis Philippe had materially aided 
 this movement by encouraging in every way the resto¬ 
 ration of the historical monuments of the country, it was 
 only about the year 1847 that the municipal authorities 
 of Paris were induced to accept the designs prepared by 
 Messrs. Gau and Bally for the Church of St. Clotilde, in 
 the style of the thirteenth century, as practised in the He 
 de France. In Germany, the same course of events may be 
 observed to have taken place, and the schools of Schinkel 
 and Yon Kleuze retained possession of power long after 
 the construction of such buildings as the Church of Bulach, 
 by Ilubsch; the Markuskirche of Berlin, by Stuller; the 
 Petrikirche, by Strack; and the Michaelskirche, by Soller 
 (both of the latter churches are in Berlin), had been com¬ 
 pleted, amidst the applause of the archaeologists of the 
 whole of the Teutonic race, and the Byzanto-Romanesque 
 style only established its undivided sway in ecclesiastical 
 architecture at a late portion of the epoch we are con¬ 
 sidering. In the meantime, the pseudo-classical school 
 retained in all the nations we have referred to its influence 
 upon the secular architecture of the towns at least, as¬ 
 suming a much more picturesque and, so to speak, a much 
 more romantic character than it had formerly borne under 
 the influence of the traditions of the classical Grecian 
 revivalists. The London club-houses display this ten¬ 
 dency, and the administrative palaces of Paris also indicate 
 its existence; whilst the private and public secular buildings 
 of such towns as Berlin, Dresden, Mainz, Munich, or even 
 those of Genoa, Turin, Milan, Florence, &c., erected about 
 this time, are all impressed, more or less, by the same in¬ 
 tellectual stamp. 
 
 The marked affectation with which the ecclesiological 
 
 © 
 
 critics upon architecture apply to their favourite style the 
 term “ Christian” has always seemed to us to be one of the 
 most striking illustrations of the power of unhesitating as¬ 
 sumption upon the public mind. This class of authors gravely 
 claimed for the Mediaeval architecture the peculiar merit 
 of being the only true impersonation of Christian feeling 
 in buildings; and the general public, forgetting, or being 
 ignorant of the fact, that Christianity had prevailed as the 
 dominant religion of the Roman Empire from the year 330 
 
 to its extinction, and that during the Carlovingian period, 
 from about 800 down to nearly 1100, the round arched 
 style had reigned with undivided sway, credulously adopted 
 the belief that the pointed arch had some mysterious con¬ 
 nexion with their religious faith. Surely the Christians 
 of the Catacombs were as truly Christians as the dwellers 
 under feudal rule, and the contemporaries of St. Augus¬ 
 tine or of St. Athanasius were as worthy of that title as 
 those of Abailard, St. Bernard, or Roger Bacon could 
 have been. Nor can any valid reason be assigned why 
 such monuments as San Clemente, at Rome—St. Vitale, at 
 Ravenna—San Giorgio al Yelabro, at Rome—the Church 
 of Grotta Ferrata—or that of San Miniato, near Florence, 
 &c., should be excluded from the pale of Christian art. 
 The fact seems to be, that the leaders of the mediaeval 
 revival were at the same time deeply interested in the 
 movement for the extension of the ecclesiastical power, 
 represented in England by the Puseyite agitation, and in 
 France by the Ultramontane party; and it is curious that 
 in the countries where the church had always retained her 
 sway—as in Spain and Italy—there the term “ Medie¬ 
 valism” has never been regarded as synonymous with the 
 term “ Christian” in matters connected with art. It 
 would, indeed, seem as though there were some vague per¬ 
 ception of the relations between the forms of faith and 
 the forms of art in the minds of those who participated in 
 this religious agitation of the north-west of Europe; and 
 that the style of architecture which had prevailed during 
 the period of the church’s greatest power was regarded 
 by them as an exponent of the religion that church was 
 organized to serve. On these principles it is possible to 
 explain their preference for the particular form of art they 
 had adopted; but it is not so easy to explain the conduct 
 of the general public in accepting the dogmas of this 
 school, and in tolerating the application of its verbal 
 formulae to the science of architecture. The Decorated 
 Gothic was indeed characteristic of the Christianity of the 
 Middle Ages; /t is sheer nonsense to talk of it as the 
 only “ Christian art.” It were as reasonable to talk of 
 the Van Eycks and the Hemmelings, the Giottos and 
 Cimabues as Christian painters, to the exclusion of 
 Raphael, Michael Angelo, Van Dyck, Murillo, or even of 
 Guido and Pietro da Cortona, who were at least sincere 
 believers, if not first-rate artists. Be this as it may, the 
 notion that Mediaeval architecture is exclusively Christian 
 has had much to do with the universal adoption of that 
 style for church buildings, and the more important 
 question of the appropriateness of its application to the 
 Protestant form of worship has been left entirely aside by 
 the English revivalists. 
 
 The best proof of the fictitious nature of the mediaeval v 
 revival is, perhaps, to be found in the fact that, practically/’ 
 it has not been extended to civil architecture ^and that, 
 whenever it has been necessary to provide for the daily 
 wants of society, architects have been forced to continue 
 the system they had so long adopted—viz., that of deve¬ 
 loping the principles of classical art in accordance with 
 the feelings and wants of the passing times. The revived 
 cultivation of what may properly be called picturesque. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 45 
 
 romantic architecture (instead of Christian architecture), 
 has, however, done good in this respect, that it has led to 
 the conviction that a mere servile imitation of even the 
 purest form of art, the Grecian, was inappropriate in a 
 climate such as our own; and, under the influence of the 
 effects produced by the observance of the canons of taste 
 observed during the middle ages, our architects have been 
 gradually led to modify the lessons they have learnt from 
 their classical teachers, so as to appropriate some of the 
 picturesque feeling of the rival school. Even Sir R. Smirke 
 himself was obliged to attempt the infusion of the romantic 
 mode of thought into some of his later works; and in the 
 
 the Mansion House, he evidently strove to combine the 
 chaste and simple harmony of Greek forms with the feel¬ 
 ings of his age, and the conditions of the London atmo¬ 
 sphere. Messrs. Cockerell, Tite, Hardwicke, Basevi, 
 Barry, Elmes, Pennethorne, S. Smirke, EAnson, &c., had 
 accepted the change in public taste more unreservedly 
 than their predecessor had done; and, whilst still clinging 
 to the spirit of classical art, they leant in preference 
 towards the modification of it which had been adopted in 
 Northern Italy by such men as Palladio, Scamozzi, and 
 the great architects of the Venetian school. The English 
 buildings of this period exhibit much thought, and a con¬ 
 scientious study of the sesthetical and practical conditions 
 they involved; and even the lovers of Medisevalism must 
 allow that the Exchange, the Fitzwilliam Museum, the St. 
 George’s Hall, Liverpool, the Reform Club, the Sun Eire 
 Office, Cornhill, &c., displayed an earnest effort on the part 
 of their authors to eliminate a form of art suited to their 
 times, but which, perhaps unconsciously, bore unmistake- 
 able evidences of the influence of the revived love for medi¬ 
 evalism. ( The sudden development of the railway system 
 abouttliis period has, however, proved by no mearrsfiavourable 
 to the progress of true architecture; because, firstly, it has 
 led to the adoption of a style which may be most aptly de¬ 
 scribed as utilitarian; and secondly, because it has led to 
 the distinct recognition of the separation between the 
 artistic and the scientific branches of the architectural 
 profession, between architects and engineers, which has 
 proved so injurious to both classes. Jit was, indeed, pre¬ 
 cisely about this period (1836 to 1848) that the form of 
 art applicable to railway works assumed its special cha¬ 
 racter, and it would be difficult to imagine anything 
 more deficient in taste than that character has hitherto 
 been, in England at least, for both the French and 
 the German engineers seem to have been educated in 
 schools where the arts of design were not treated with 
 neglect. The consequence of this unfortunate divorce 
 between art and science in building operations has been, 
 that the face of our country has been disfigured by bridges, 
 viaducts, station buildings, &c., which are positively eye¬ 
 sores; as, for instance, on the Great Western, North 
 Western, Eastern Counties, South Eastern, and Midland 
 lines; and though Mr. Tite (who, by a singular exception, 
 was employed on the works of the South Western and the 
 Lancaster and Carlisle, and oh some of the Scotch lines) 
 relieved their station buildings from the general monotony 
 
 of ugliness, he was so “ cribbed, cabined, and confined,” 
 by the influence of the engineers with whom he worked, 
 that he was not able to exercise his own judgment, or to 
 indulge his fancy in anyway. Mr. Hardwicke also suffered 
 from the same influence, and can hardly be held responsible 
 for the absurd propylaeon at Euston-square, or for the in¬ 
 appropriate, characterless buildings at the back of that 
 screen. But without dwelling on individual shortcomings, 
 it may be observed that the tendency of engineering in¬ 
 fluence was to substitute the notion of utility for that of 
 beauty in architecture; and thus, by introducing a new 
 and powerful motive, to increase the uncertainty of men’s 
 minds already produced by the political and moral revolu¬ 
 tions of the previous years. In fact, the architecture of 
 England was still, in this period, as deficient in character 
 and as aimless as it had been in the period between 1814 
 and 1830; it floated about, as it were, on the surface of 
 the moral currents of the day, but it had no definite di¬ 
 rection of its own, and its professors were devoid of the 
 originality and the mental grasp requisite to create a defi¬ 
 nite style. 
 
 In France, however, and in Germany, there was another 
 spirit abroad; and they who study the history of this 
 mode of the expression of human intellect, may discern 
 in those countries a tendency, even whilst adopting a dis¬ 
 tinctly-marked eclecticism in art, to seek for their own 
 formulae to express the longings of the soul after infinite 
 beauty. These words may appear to the unreflecting as 
 mere empty sounds—mere metaphysical jargon; but in 
 truth the efforts of any age or nation to attain excellence 
 in art are inspired alone by the desire to lead through 
 visible objects to the ideal; and the degree of excellence 
 attained is precisely in proportion to the earnestness and 
 the disinterestedness of the efforts. In France and 
 Germany, the various schools of philosophy and religion 
 had roused men to a more passionate examination of the 
 problems of man’s existence in the present and in the 
 future; whilst the boldness with which those problems 
 had been discussed had for many years accustomed the 
 thinking part of the public to investigate the reasons upon 
 which their principles and practice in other things had 
 been founded. There was a tendency in both countries to 
 shake off the traditions of schools, and to return directly 
 to the study of the natural laws on which those traditions 
 were based. In architecture, this movement displayed 
 itself in a marked manner between 1836 and 1848; in 
 France perhaps more decidedly than in Germany; but 
 alike in both countries copyism was rejected, and professors 
 strove to discover the mode of representing in their build¬ 
 ings the innermost feelings of the times they lived in. 
 Visconti, Hittorf, Vaudoyer, Duban, Armand, &c., gra¬ 
 dually passed from the traditions of the Vignola school to 
 a style of their own times; but, alas! this style was so 
 true a reflex of the utter absence of faith in the society 
 which it typified, that it bore no distinct or original cha¬ 
 racter of its own, and at best it appealed more to the 
 sympathies and the passions of the public, than it did to 
 their reason. Duban and his school have adopted a style 
 characterized by a nakedness and baldness of general effect, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 46 
 
 and a prodigal use of their ornamentation in detail; Vis¬ 
 conti and the other leading architects of this time, who, 
 like him, still retained the influence of their classical 
 schooling, fell into another error—viz., that of overwhelm¬ 
 ing the general effect of their buildings under a profusion 
 of rich and elegant details. There is in both these schools 
 an absence of moral grandeur; there is a species of morbid 
 elegance which appeals more to the nerves than to the 
 heart, and which leaves untouched the deeper notes of the 
 soul. Their styles are true, insomuch as they display 
 these men as they lived and moved and had their being, 
 and so far the styles are respectable; but no style can be a 
 living one unless it touch the general soul of man, and 
 rise beyond the expression “ of an age, to that of all time.” 
 The architecture of the later portion of Louis-Philippe’s 
 reign indeed represented the moral and the political cor¬ 
 ruption of the epoch, with all its elegance and refinement, 
 but also with all its want of principle and its contempt of 
 authority; it has been aptly called le style lorette, and 
 may be observed in its most characteristic form in the 
 new streets formed on the north side of the Boulevard 
 Montmartre, and in the quartier Notre Dame de Lorette. 
 Towards the close of the epoch, nevertheless, a better 
 tendency may be observed to prevail, especially in the 
 buildings connected with railways and with the public 
 administration; for the Strasbourg Railway Station and 
 the Hotel du Ministere des Affaires Etrangeres display, in 
 the one case, an originality of conception, and in the other 
 a consistency in the adaptation of received forms to new 
 wants, which almost amount to genius. The Strasbourg 
 Railway Station was never meant to be seen from the 
 Boulevard, from whence it is now usually looked at; 
 but in spite of this inconvenience, it may be said, without 
 fear of contradiction, that it has few rivals in modern 
 Europe, whether considered from an abstractedly sesthetical 
 point of view, or from the practical one of its appropriate¬ 
 ness to the usages to which it is applied, and which it was 
 intended to typify. In some of the more modern station 
 buildings of France, it is true that the logical adaptation 
 of forms to express the usage of the structure may have 
 been more carefully studied; but it is precisely the im¬ 
 pression of the vague effort to produce this result which 
 gives to the Strasbourg station its poetical character. Al¬ 
 together, there are few monuments of our age worthy of 
 comparison with this building, in spite of one or two de¬ 
 fects of detail, which seem to arise from a deficient scho¬ 
 lastic training in the author of this strikingly original 
 design. 
 
 It is worthy of remark that the architect of the Stras¬ 
 bourg Railway Station has furnished a strange commentary 
 on the nature and tendency of the French mediaeval re¬ 
 vival, which, amongst the eclectics at least, is following 
 very much the same direction as the revival in Germany. 
 He has indeed sought his model in the round arched 
 forms of Lombard or of Romanesque architecture, just as 
 the architects of the stations on the Baden railways, of 
 the principal stations at Munich and Frankfort, have done, 
 and as the Belgian, Dutch, Danish, and Russian archi¬ 
 tects are evidently inclined to do. And for many reasons 
 
 the Lombard style may be considered to be especially 
 adapted for the class of buildings specially alluded to, for, 
 in the first place, it is sufficiently elastic to allow of its 
 application to the artistic treatment of the new materials 
 introduced of late years; and in the second, the style 
 itself was designed to meet the requirements of an age 
 and a country which rendered simplicity of construction 
 and economy of technical execution matters of necessity. 
 
 At the same time, the nature of the ornamental decoration 
 arclueologically consistent with this style is such as to 
 display itself easily in the vapoury atmosphere of the 
 countries where it has been adopted; and, indeed, from 
 the fact of the essence of the Lombard style consisting in 
 broad general effect, rather than in minute detail, the 
 latter may often be advantageously omitted. This cer¬ 
 tainly is not the case with the Decorated Gothic, the 
 modification of medievalism most in favour with the 
 
 romantic schools of England and of the Continent, as may_ 
 
 be perceived in any of the domestic buildings erected by 
 their followers, such as Messrs. Scott, Viollet le Due, 
 Roelandts, Muller, Kranner, &c. ; for in all their works j 
 the general effect is overwhelmed by the details, and the 
 means of decoration are to a great extent substituted for 
 the ends it ought to fulfil. 
 
 A rather curious difference between the spirits of the 
 mediaeval revivals of England and of the Continent may 
 be observed in the manner in which the repairs of the 
 ecclesiastical and historical monuments of the various 
 countries have been treated—a difference which has long 
 prevailed, although it is only very recently that public 
 attention has been called to it. Here, the architect em¬ 
 ployed in the restoration of an ancient monument con¬ 
 siders himself bound to reproduce it precisely in the form 
 it originally bore; abroad, the architects consider them¬ 
 selves entitled to change insignificant details, so as to 
 render the buildings more appropriate to their actual use, 
 and to allow the application of any modern improvements 
 in technical processes. Our system is certainly more in 
 accordance with archaeological correctness, and with a 
 reverence for the works of onr ancestors; but the Conti¬ 
 nental system is more consonant with the practice of the 
 mediaeval architects themselves, and with the logical 
 application of the principle, that buildings are intended for 
 use, quite as much as for the pleasure of the eye, or of the 
 imagination. As in most cases, truth lies in the mean 
 between the two extremes, and the rigid enforcement of 
 the doctrines of our leading restorers would lead to as 
 unmeaning a reproduction of extinct forms of art, as the 
 love of change indulged in on the Continent evidently 
 destroys the time-honoured interest of the building. The 
 reproduction, for instance, of the archaic sculpture of our 
 Gothic cathedrals is as questionable as a matter of taste, 
 as the demolition of the western facade of St. Ouen, at 
 Rouen, or as some of the alterations of the original design 
 of Notre Dame of Paris, or of Alby. Perhaps our system 
 may also be injurious in this respect, that it drives our 
 architects from any attempts to develop the leading 
 principles of mediaeval art in accordance with the spirit 
 j of the age in which they live, until at last they become, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 17 
 
 like the late Welby Pugin, mere anachronisms of a very 
 ludicrous description. But however this question be de¬ 
 cided, architectural students must feel grateful to the 
 government of Louis-Philippe for the efforts made by it 
 to preserve the glorious relics of the past; and though in 
 such cases as the restoration of St. Denis, St. Ouen, 
 Mantes Cathedral, &c., there were undoubtedly committed 
 some strange mistakes, yet as a general rule the work of 
 repairing and maintaining these monuments was well and 
 conscientiously performed in France between 1836 and 
 1848. In Germany the same observations will apply, 
 and the completion of Cologne Cathedral may be referred 
 to as an illustration of the spirit with which that nation 
 entered upon the task of preserving the relics of its 
 ancestors. In Holland and in Belgium the attempts at 
 restoration executed about this period were simply detest¬ 
 able, whilst in Spain and in Italy so little seems to have 
 been done for this purpose, that it is useless to seek in 
 those countries any lessons for our guidance in this path. 
 Alas ! in art, as in politics, morals, and literature, the 
 nations of the south, so long our leaders, have latterly 
 abdicated their high position, and are content to learn 
 from their ancient pupils. They have, by a strange series 
 of events, lately become free; may they again enter upon 
 the great struggle for intellectual advancement, for which 
 they possess so many natural advantages in their earnest¬ 
 ness of faith, and in their instinctive perceptions of the 
 elements of ideal beauty developed by the influence of 
 climates which communicate a charm to all inanimate 
 nature ! It is indeed probable that the reappearance of 
 these two nations in the great drama of man’s progress 
 may introduce new elements in its direction, for the 
 genius of the northern nations is as much disposed to 
 wander into the realms of the ideal, as that of the southern 
 nations is likely to confine itself to the real. The ten¬ 
 dencies of their intellects are respectively subjective and 
 objective; the interests of true art require that both should 
 be combined. 
 
 Before closing this chapter of our review of the recent 
 progress of architecture, it may be as well to mention that 
 in 1837 the French Government made another effort to 
 counteract the effect of the administrative centralization 
 of that country upon art, by extending the independence 
 of local authorities, in matters connected with building, to 
 the sum of 30,000 francs (1200/.) The tendency to 
 imitate Paris had, however, been too deeply rooted to 
 allow this alteration to produce much effect; and the 
 erection of such buildings as the Cathedral at Boulogne, 
 the Museum at Havre, the Theatre at Caen, &c., proves 
 that the local schools had only been too fatally absorbed 
 by that of the capital. Neither in the period between 
 1837 and 1848, or since, have the French provinces pro¬ 
 duced anything original, and we look in vain amongst 
 them for such marked distinctions as may be traced in 
 the contemporary schools of architecture of Brussels and 
 of Antwerp, or in the more ancient ones of Burgundy and 
 the Isle de France. 
 
 It is as dangerous to do good to a rogue as to do evil to an honest 
 man.— Plautus. 
 
 THE AESTHETIC PRINCIPLES OF 
 ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Architecture is a branch of the fine arts which in this 
 country was long left to slumber in the backgrounds of 
 science, and its principles, which have such an innate ten¬ 
 dency to elevate the mind, are but little understood. It 
 has been left to those whose fortunes and position in life 
 have enabled them to study in repuilica scientice —an 
 extraordinary genius appearing once now and then on the 
 world’s stage, and like the large comets, astonishing us 
 by their lustre, and then disappearing; but, as Shakspeare 
 says, “ the works of good men live after them,” so their 
 works still exist, the wonder and admiration of all intel¬ 
 lects. England, as a nation, may be said to know little 
 of architecture, and for a long time prior to the time of 
 Inigo Jones it was in a very degraded state; but he arose 
 and trimmed the lamp. Then the devastation caused by 
 the Great Fire of London gave scope to the genius of 
 Wren. 
 
 Although perhaps no country in the universe is in any 
 way equal to our own, in respect of being dotted thickly 
 over with miserably inartistic, though happy homes, lying 
 like gems set about with the poetry of external nature, 
 yet there are a few here and there in which some degree 
 of architectural talent has been displayed, and, like the 
 evening star, they light up and throw a halo round the 
 surrounding atmosphere; and let us hope to see a higher 
 impulse of architectural genius expressed in the erection 
 of still more beautiful and sylvan retreats. 
 
 People seem to think of architecture as if it referred 
 only to bricks and mortar, or abstruse mathematics, com¬ 
 prising simply crooked problems. 
 
 Surely the time shall come. 
 
 When this fine overplus of might. 
 
 No longer sullen, slow, and dumb, 
 
 Shall leap to music and to light. 
 
 So sang the prophetic voice of the poet, and he has 
 lived to see the shaking amongst the dry bones. Our 
 archaeological societies are teaching us to look behind the 
 broken column and the ruin, and there see the genius 
 from which such divine conceptions emanated, and which 
 could express itself into a material form. 
 
 In the garden of architecture, so cheering a spot to the 
 lover of the history of our earth, reposes all that is beau¬ 
 tiful in science; where the lofty mind of man, aspiring 
 towards heaven, has left its noble impress; where we may 
 obtain a glimpse of bygone nations whose history is im¬ 
 printed with an indelible hand on the stones, truly veri¬ 
 fying the poet’s assertion— 
 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything. 
 
 Let us, then, take courage with a heart for any fate; 
 let us arise and be doing, remembering the immortal 
 destinies of man, and the hopes that are ever surging our 
 hearts and rising upwards. 
 
 Build on in hope, with pillar, dome, and tower, 
 
 Not for the present, but a distant hour. 
 
 Brief is the span of life; the builder eyes 
 His deep-thought plan, and sees the walls arise; 
 
48 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Anticipates the whole, and then expires. 
 
 Ere half accomplished. Yet his genius fires 
 The lasting pile. Not men, but nations too, 
 
 By such defy oblivion. 
 
 It concerns all to know the most interesting features of 
 architectural beauty. Those aesthetic principles of archi¬ 
 tecture which enable us in our travels to see something 
 more than beautiful scenery, and which in this England 
 of ours is especially valuable from the many relics of 
 antiquity still left us, and in summa excellentia to see living 
 poetry in “ those wrecks of another world whose ashes 
 still are warm,” those fallen arches and arch-crushed 
 columns, and choked-up vaults, or in those beautiful and 
 heaven-aspiring pinnacles and spires that flash in the 
 sunlight like a meteor, and which seem to give us glimpses 
 of that glory never to be forgotten—telling us, like gleams 
 on a sunset sea, what once hath been. 
 
 The architect 
 
 Built his great heart into those sculptured stones, 
 
 And with him toiled his children, and their lives 
 Were builded with his own into the walls. 
 
 As offerings unto God. 
 
 Things inanimate are possessed of life; the old ruin 
 and grey relic of antiquity, pleading haughtily for glories 
 gone, speak in voices which most people hear not; they 
 are like eternal lamps in the bright city of God; but— 
 
 Vanished in the ancient splendour. 
 
 And before my dreamy eye, 
 
 Wake those mingling shapes and figures. 
 
 Like a faded tapestry. 
 
 What we can see of the remote past through the 
 deepening shades of time, is as of some great unknown 
 sea on which some solitary ship is afloat, whose course we 
 can but dimly trace through the clouds which every way 
 gather around her. 
 
 How truly has it been said (in the “ Seven Lamps of 
 Architecture”), how cold is all history, how lifeless all 
 imagery, when compared to that which the living nation 
 writes, and the uncorrupted marble bears ! How many 
 pages of doubtful record might we not often spare, for a 
 few stones left one upon another ! The ambition of the 
 old Babel builders was well directed for this world. 
 There are but two strong conquerors of the forgetfulness 
 of men—poetry and architecture—and the latter in some 
 sort includes the former, and is mightier in its reality; it 
 is well to have, not only what men have thought and felt, 
 but what their hands have handled and their strength 
 wrought, and their eyes beheld. “This is the grand 
 sesthetic principle of architecture, the concatenation of the 
 world’s history, written in imperishable characters on the 
 uncorrupted marble, so that all may behold, and seeing, 
 learn if they will, f the primal art of man.’ ” 
 
 Thus, in all time, from the monolithic column to the 
 trilithons of Stonehenge, from the propylea of Pericles 
 to the fantastic Alhambra, we behold the same spirit of 
 beauty, the same eternal aesthetic principle of architecture. 
 Let us for a moment go back to the origin of these prin¬ 
 ciples, and we shall find that they may be traced even to 
 the expulsion of man from Paradise. When he thus be¬ 
 came exposed to the vicissitudes of wind and rain, of sun¬ 
 shine, fierce as it doubtless was, and cold in all its inten¬ 
 
 sity, to which among the floral bowers of Paradise he had 
 been unaccustomed, and looking back and seeing the gates 
 of his former home shut for ever against him, and round 
 about him the “wide, wide world,” in all the glory of 
 its freshness, then did the new knowledge he had gained 
 of good and evil, thrust with irresistible force into his 
 soul the thought of what he had lost and what he had 
 gained, and his distress gave birth to the hut; nor, let 
 it be remembered, the unseemly wigwam, nor the gro¬ 
 velling thing of mud we generally think of with the word 
 hut. No ! the infancy of humanity had not degenerated 
 to the level of the North American Indian or the Esqui¬ 
 maux. Was he not fresh from Eden? Did he not re¬ 
 member what he had lost, and would he not endeavour in 
 some sort to get at least a resemblance of his former 
 abode ? Here, then, his primal want was supplied, and it 
 contained in itself the elements of the beautiful, and the 
 genius of man here first expanded itself into a material 
 form. 
 
 STREET ARCHITECTURE IN BRICK. / 
 
 Tiie destructive action of the London atmosphere upon 
 stone-work leads obviously to other practical considerations, 
 in addition to such as may be devoted to the discovery of 
 chemical agencies for rendering stone edifices vapour-proof. 
 While Silicates are passing through the test of experi¬ 
 mental application, stone walls, with their rich and costly 
 sculptures, are rapidly disintegrating. It certainly is 
 possible that something or other may prove its efficacy 
 as a preservative, and that perhaps the “ Zopissa” may 
 render Yorkshire Stone on the banks of the Thames as 
 time-defying as the Sandstone masses that for thirty or 
 forty centuries have reflected the same sharp chisel-touches 
 in the rising Nile. Still, this atmospheric disintegration of 
 apparently hard Stone significantly suggests inquiries after 
 some substitute for Stone, which is really hard and strong 
 and enduring, and which also would satisfy the various 
 requirements of Architecture. Nature herself has a ready 
 reply to every such inquiry: she points out the common 
 clay that she supplies with lavish bounty in every region of 
 the earth, and then glances at the Terra Cottas of Assyria 
 and Greece, and the Roman bricks of Verulam. 
 
 For many reasons, at the present moment Brick Archi¬ 
 tecture possesses the strongest claim for thoughtful 
 attention. In London, more particularly, the advantages 
 attending the use of bricks in Street Buildings are nume¬ 
 rous and palpable. The one quality of unquestionable 
 durability in itself goes far to establish Brick Architecture 
 in public favour. And when to this it is added that bricks 
 may be adapted to the most artistic purposes, and used 
 with equal propriety and success in every variety of edifice, 
 the case in support of Brick Architecture appears to be 
 complete. Such is actually the fact; and yet, at the same 
 time, there are many circumstances connected with the 
 general adoption of what we will venture to distinguish as "7 
 Victorian Brickwork, which require to be carefully con-^ 
 sidered and fully discussed. If bricks possess the most 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 49 
 
 important intrinsic qualities as building materials, they 
 certainly have been subjected in practice to the very 
 extremity of ill-usage and indignity. Even in the fabri¬ 
 cation of bricks the higher capabilities of the clay have 
 almost universally been overlooked. Hence brickwork has 
 come to be held as synonymous with building in its 
 commonest, most degraded, and most un-architectural 
 condition. The very word “ brickwork,” when used with 
 reference to streets, is involuntarily suggestive either of 
 dreary rows of half-burnt dirt made smart by “ pointed” 
 mortar, or of a structural framework that is to be elevated 
 into what passes for Architecture by means of a careful 
 covering of stucco. “ It has been so much the fashion of 
 late years,” remarks Mr. Street (“Brick and Marble Archi¬ 
 tecture in Italy,” p. 268), “ to look upon brick as a vile 
 material, fit only to be covered with compo, and never fit 
 to be used in church building, or indeed in any buildings 
 of architectural pretension, that I suspect many people, 
 trusting to their knowledge of pointed Architecture in 
 England, would be much surprised to find that, throughout 
 large tracts of the Continent, brick was the natural, and 
 indeed the popular, material during the most palmy days 
 of Architecture in the middle ages.” In such a state of 
 things, any attempt to establish brickwork as building of a 
 high order necessarily implies a complete change, as well 
 in the making and the treatment of bricks, as in the esti¬ 
 mation of them. The bricks themselves must be rendered 
 capable of artistic application; and both architects and 
 the general public require to become familiarized with their 
 true character, their versatile powers, and legitimate uses. 
 
 “ Here let me pause,” writes Mr. Buskin in his descrip¬ 
 tion ofthe Gothic palaces of Venice (“ Stones of Venice,” ii., 
 260), “to note what one would have thought was well 
 enough known in England,—yet I could not perhaps 
 touch upon anything less considered,—the real use of 
 brick. Our fields of good clay were never” given us to be 
 made into oblong morsels of one size. They were given us 
 that we might play with them, and that men who could 
 not handle a chisel might knead out of them some expres¬ 
 sion of human thought. In the ancient Architecture of 
 the clay districts of Italy every possible adaptation of the 
 material is found exemplified, from the coarsest and most 
 brittle kinds, used in the mass of the structure, to bricks 
 for arches and plinths, cast in the most perfect curves, and 
 of almost every size, strength, and hardness; and moulded 
 bricks, wrought into flower-work and tracery as fine as 
 raised patterns upon china. And, just as many of the 
 finest works of the Italian sculptors were executed in 
 porcelain, many of the best thoughts of their architects are 
 expressed in brick, or in the softer (more plastic) material 
 of terra cotta: and, if this were so in Italy, where there is 
 not one city from whose towers we may not descry the 
 blue outline of Alp or Apennine, everlasting quarries of 
 granite or marble, how much more ought it to be so among 
 the fields of England ! I believe that the best academy 
 for her architects, for some half century to come, would be 
 the brick-field; for of this they may rest assured, that till 
 they know how to use clay, they will never know how to 
 use marble.” 
 
 2 
 
 We are disposed to hope that, from one half century to 
 another, our English Architects will continue to regard 
 brick and terra cotta as second to none of the materials at 
 their disposal. So long, indeed, as the climate of England 
 remains unchanged, and the general condition of our cities 
 and towns is subject to the action of existing influences. 
 Brick Architecture—provided it is Architecture—cannot 
 fail both to vindicate its worthiness and to maintain its 
 popularity. But that worthiness requires to be demon¬ 
 strated before it is reasonable to expect that popularity 
 should be enjoyed. 
 
 From whatever especial causes it may have resulted, it is 
 certain that with the alarming discovery of the perishable 
 nature of stone buildings in London a new era in Street 
 Architecture in Brick has dawned upon us. Several 
 buildings of decided “ architectural pretension” have 
 already been constructed of bricks. Brick Architecture 
 has evidently secured the sympathies of able and thought¬ 
 ful men. Experiments in brickwork are in the act of 
 being conducted with the most encouraging success, and 
 the new brick edifices are regarded with admiring 
 approval. 
 
 Thus a great architectural movement has commenced 
 auspiciously, and it promises to advance steadily and 
 strongly towards a triumphant issue. 
 
 In its present condition a valuable impulse may probably 
 be communicated to the progress of this movement by a 
 systematic consideration of the entire subject of brick 
 construction, and of Architecture in Brick properly so 
 called. 
 
 Much of the impressive effect of Street Architecture in 
 Brick will always depend upon the skill with which Build¬ 
 ings are designed, upon their architectural character, the 
 proportion and harmony of their component parts, and the 
 actual adjustment of the brickwork. This has been exem¬ 
 plified in a striking manner in the domestic buildings 
 which Mr. Butterfield has grouped with his All Saints 5 
 Church in Margaret-street. The brickwork itself may be 
 considered with reference, first, to the nature of the bricks 
 and other plastic materials; secondly, to the disposition 
 and arrangement of these materials; and thirdly, with 
 reference to the introduction of materials of a different 
 character, and their admixture with the bricks, &c. 
 
 In a future number we shall resume this subject, and 
 return to it again and again until our readers are presented 
 with a full view of every variety of brick and tile available 
 for either useful or ornamental purposes. 
 
 J 
 
 New Patent in Pottery. —Messrs. J. C. Coombe and James 
 Wriglit, of Blackfriars, have taken out a patent for improvements in 
 the manufacture of glass, pottery, porcelain, and other ceramic and 
 plastic wares. This invention consists in the application of fluo-silicates 
 and silicates of alkalies, or alkaline earths, and earthy bases, and pre¬ 
 cipitated silica, to the manufacture of glass, pottery, porcelain, and 
 other plastic and ceramic wares. The patentees claim more particularly 
 the substitution of the duo-silicic salts of the alkalies, alkaline earths, 
 and other earthy bases, for the phosphoric compounds of the same or 
 other bases, in the manufacture of glass, pottery, porcelain, and other 
 ceramic and plastic wares. 
 
 The American Lake Copper. —In 1846 the copper mines of 
 Lake Superior yielded only 160£. worth of copper. Last year they 
 yielded copper worth 600,0002. 
 
 H 
 
50 
 
 ABCHITECTUBE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE WESTMINSTER MEMORIAL COLUMN. 
 
 Plates I. and II. 
 
 Amongst the public monuments of the metropolis, there are few which 
 are likely to excite more interest, or upon the whole more general 
 approval, than the column designed by the eminent architect, Mr. 
 Scott, and erected to the memory of those who were educated at the 
 Westminster School, hut who perished nobly in their country’s cause 
 in the Russian and Indian wars. It is pleasing to notice the pride 
 which their old schoolfellows take in doing honour to those who have 
 upheld the glory of old England in many a well-fought field. To 
 most of our readers Westminster School will be only a name ; and 
 many may wonder that ODe institution should not only contribute many 
 noble and heroic soldiers to the public service, but at the same time 
 leave so -many of their old schoolfellows behind as to subscribe the 
 large sum required for this public memorial. We propose, therefore, 
 as an introduction to the form, dimensions, &c., of the column, to give 
 a short sketch of the institution that had the honour to send forth so 
 many noble pupils. 
 
 Speaking of the Westminster School, Carlisle, who wrote in 1818, 
 says :—“ This college, which ranks amongst the first establishments in 
 the British Empire for the instruction of youth, and has produced so 
 many of those distinguished men who illuminated the periods in which 
 they lived as divines and statesmen, as orators, poets, and philosophers, 
 was founded by Queen Elizabeth in the year 1560. 
 
 Although the honour of founding this noble institution is accorded 
 to Elizabeth, it is quite certain that there was a school there at a very 
 early date. Ingulphus, in his “ History of Croyland Abbey,” not only 
 mentions that there was a school at Westminster in the time ot Ed¬ 
 ward III., but says that he himself was educated there. There are also 
 many other notices of the institution ; and Elizabeth only carried out the 
 intentions of her royal father, who had done much to prepare the way 
 for her. What she did, however, was to give the institution a definite 
 character, and regulate by act of parliament the manner in which 
 scholars were to be elected upon the foundation of this school, and 
 from thence to colleges in Oxford and Cambridge, as well as the 
 number to be removed annually to the Universities. 
 
 Since the time of Charles II. Westminster School has undergone 
 few changes. It is not endowed with lands or other property specially 
 appropriated to its own maintenance, but is attached to the general 
 foundation of the Collegiate Church, so far as relates to the support of 
 forty scholars. It is under the care of the Dean and Chapter of 
 Westminster, conjointly with the Dean of Christ Church, Oxford, 
 and the Master of Trinity College, Cambridge. Most of the boys of 
 the school are boarders. The statutes allow 120 boys—namely, 40 
 king’s scholars, and 80 town hoys. The masters are, however, allowed 
 to take as many town boys as they can obtain, and hence the establish¬ 
 ment becomes very extensive. 
 
 The boys upon the foundation are denominated king’s scholars, and 
 are in a state of collegiate association. They sleep in the dormitory, 
 have their dinner and supper in the hall, and may, if they choose, have 
 breakfast of bread and butter with beer, but as this must be taken at 
 six o’clock in the morning, it is seldom claimed; they are distinguished 
 from the town boys by a gown, cap, and college waistcoat. Thirty- 
 two are provided with gowns once a year, but not with caps. Beyond 
 this, the foundation boys do not seem to have any advantage over those 
 of the town. 
 
 The school stands high in the public estimation, and is deservedly 
 ranked amongst the first of our endowed schools. The buildings, 
 although old, are elegant and well adapted to the purpose for which 
 they are employed; and it is only natural that those who have sat at 
 the same desk, or contended in the commodious hall or theatre in 
 honourable rivalry for the chance of promotion in the college, should 
 remember the “ schoolboy spot we ne’er forget, though there we are 
 forgotshould be proud of the distinction which their earliest friends 
 and playmates have won, should love them in life, and honour them in 
 death. It is to this generous feeling that the Westminster Memorial 
 column owes its origin. The design is chaste and elegant, the ma¬ 
 terials of which it is built of the most durable kind, and the whole 
 work is alike creditable to those whose memory it perpetuates, and 
 those also who in sorrow and admiration undertook and accom¬ 
 plished it. 
 
 The column, of which our artist has given an admirable illustration, 
 bears the following inscription :— 
 
 To THE MEMORY OF THOSE EDUCATED AT WESTMINSTER SCHOOL WHO 
 DIED IN THE INDIAN AND RUSSIAN WARS A.D. 1854—1859 ON THE ElELD 
 of Battle or from Wounds and Sickness: some in eaely youth, some 
 
 FULL OF YEARS AND HONOURS, BUT WHO ALIKE GAVE THEIR LIVES FOE 
 
 theie Country, this column was erected by theie old schoolfellows 
 
 IN TOKEN OF SORROW FOR THEIR LOSS, OF PRIDE IN THEIR VALOUR, AND 
 IN FULL ASSURANCE THAT THEIR HEROISM IN LIFE AND DEATH WILL INSPIRE 
 THEIR SUCCESSORS AT WESTMINSTER WITH THE SAME COURAGE AND SELF- 
 DEVOTION. 
 
 So runs the inscription, which is engraved in capitals on one of the 
 four panels at the base of the column erected in the parvis of West¬ 
 minster Abbey. In stands within some hundred yards of the ancient 
 seminary where they received their early instruction, and where they 
 imbibed from classic and historic page the sentiments of honour, 
 devotion, and patriotism which ever inspire the true hero and the 
 soldier. The present and future youth of Westminster School may 
 read the inscription, and, whether as soldiers or civilians, resolve when 
 they leave that school, to emulate their predecessors in being ready to 
 serve their country, and, if needful, to sacrifice their lives for it. 
 
 On a second panel to the right we read the names of Capt. Augustus 
 Frederick Knyaston, R.N., C.B.; Major Aug. Saltren Willet, 17th 
 Lancers ; Capt. Fred. Henry Dymock, 95th Regt.; Lieut. Reginald 
 Hugh Somerville, 23rd Fusileers; Lieut. Wm. Walker Jordan, 34th 
 Regt.; Lieut. Richard Borough, Rifle Brigade ; Midshipman Charles 
 Madan, H.M.S. Imperieuse; Frederick Henty, Commissariat Depart¬ 
 ment : and underneath the whole, the words “ Russian War, 1854-56.” 
 On a third panel, to the left of the one first quoted, we read the names 
 of General Sir Henry Wm. Barnard, G.C.B., Commander-in-Chief, 
 1857; Major John Waterfield, 38th B.N.I.; Major Walter R. Prout, 
 56th B.N.I.; Capt. Wilson Henry Jones, H.M. 13th L.I. ; Capt. Louis 
 Henry Bedford, H.M. 37th Regt.; Capt. Wm. Thornton Phillimore, 
 10th B.N.I.; Lieut. Henry Bingham, H.M. 90th Regt.; Lieut. Lovick 
 Emilius Cooper, H.M. Rifle Brigade; Cornet Wm. George Hawtrey 
 Banks, H.M. 7th Hussars; and underneath the whole the words, 
 “ Indian War, 1857-1858.” The fourth panel, on the opposite side of 
 the pedestal of the column to the first described, bears the names of 
 F.M. Lord Raglan, G.C.B., Commander-in-Chief, 1854-1855 ; and 
 Lieut.-Gen. Fred. Markham, C.B. The names of nineteen West¬ 
 minster scholars who died in the service of their country, are recorded 
 on this monument—names of whom their survivors may well be proud, 
 and justifying the sentence of the memorial inscription, “ some in early 
 youth, some full of years and honours,” and all that follows. 
 
 Of the monument itself, the design of Mr. G. G. Scott, the archi¬ 
 tect, our engraving will afford an excellent idea. The whole, from its 
 Mediaeval character, is well suited for its site in the face of Westminster 
 Abbey and of Mr. Scott’s new houses in Dean’s-yard. The figure on 
 the top represents St. George and the Dragon, and was sculptured by 
 Mr. Clayton. The four seated figures represent Henry III., Edward I., 
 Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Victoria. The sculptor of these figures 
 was the contractor for the monument, Mr. J. ■ B. Philip, who also 
 sculptured the ornamental carving. The material of the various 
 portions of Peterhead granite, highly polished, and Portland stone for 
 the rest, except the columns at the angles of the pedestal, which are of 
 grey Aberdeen granite, which give the whole structure an appearance 
 of great strength. The dimensions are as follow:—Total height, 
 62 feet; height of shaft, 27 feet 6 inches; diameter of shaft, 3 feet 
 6 inches and 2 feet 11 inches ; height of base, 14 feet 3 inches ; and 
 width of base, 10 feet. 
 
 Such is the memorial erected by their old schoolfellows to their 
 friends of early days, “ in token of sorrow for their loss, of pride in 
 their valour, and in full assurance that their heroism in life and death 
 will inspire their successors at Westminster with the same courage aud 
 self-devotion.” 
 
 Death is the worst, a fate which all must try, 
 
 And for one’s country ’tis a bliss to die. 
 
 The gallant man though slain in fight he be, 
 
 Yet leaves his nation Bafe, his children free, 
 
 Entails a debt on all the grateful state. 
 
 His own brave friends shall glory in his fate, 
 
 His wife live honoured, all his race succeed, 
 
 And late posterity enjoy the deed. 
 
 HOUSE AND SHOP, NO. 155, NEW BOND-STREET. 
 Plates III. and IV. 
 
 In our examples of Street Architecture we shall always select 
 those which have some special excellences to recommend them, such as 
 taste, utility, and special adaptation to the purpose for which they 
 were constructed. It is of little consequence to us what material is 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 51 
 
 used, whether brick or stone; we are looking for the display of archi¬ 
 tectural ability, and provided the conditions of high art are attained, 
 we have nothing further to demand. In this search we shall en¬ 
 counter many disappointments, still we shall also meet with much 
 that will, to say the least of it, approximate towards our standard of 
 excellence, and those examples it will be our duty to present to the 
 .public. 
 
 In the construction of the house and shop, 155, New Bond-street, 
 the architect, Mr. T. Harris, has made a bold, and we are bound to 
 add successful, effort to produce an original and elegant design, which 
 is at the same time admirably adapted to the purpose for which it was 
 erected—the display of an extensive and magnificent stock of glass and 
 china wares—and the artistic treatment of the whole building. The 
 style is what Mr. Harris calls “The Stone Ordee of Victorian 
 Architecture.” The character is novel; there is great freedom of 
 expression and originality of treatment; it is attractive without being 
 gaudy, and is chaste, bold, and imposing to the eye, whilst the re¬ 
 quirements of trade have been so far consulted that every inch of space 
 has been turned to the best practical purpose. Many of our merchants 
 will, no doubt, be ready enough to invest their capital in this way, if 
 they can always attain the double advantage of beauty and convenience 
 at the same time. 3 
 
 The great difficulty which hampered the architect in the building 
 before us, was the very limited amount of space that he was enabled to 
 occupy, there being only twenty-one feet of frontage. With such a 
 space no room could well be spared for a staircase to the upper floors. 
 This difficulty has, however, been ingeniously overcome' by placing 
 the staircase in the centre of the site, between the front and back show¬ 
 rooms. It is circular, and hence it occupies but little space, and allows 
 a lobby on either side to the back show-rooms. This staircase is, we 
 believe, a new and valuable feature, and one that we should highly re¬ 
 commend where economy of space is required. The main or front 
 portion of the premises is six stories in height, including the base¬ 
 ment. The ground floor occupies two show-rooms, 52 feet long, 18 
 feet wide, and 12 feet high. From the front show-room you ascend 
 by a noble staircase to another of the same dimensions on the first 
 floor. It was desirable to procure an even light throughout for these 
 show-rooms, and for this purpose several admirable contrivances have 
 been adopted; the principal of which are the introduction of two fine 
 windows on the landing, and in the centre of the upper show-room of 
 a skylight so arranged as to soften the other lights by breaking the 
 cross shadows, a thing most desirable in the display of china. Upon 
 the whole, the lighting must be considered as most successful. In the 
 construction of the premises wrought-iron girders have been employed 
 to carry the superincumbent walls of the upper floors, and also the 
 floors of the show-rooms; the whole of the brickwork is executed in 
 cement, and the materials are of the besF quality and superior 
 description. 
 
 We will now enter upon a description of the artistic character of 
 the building. The street-front is of Bath-stone, with marble intro¬ 
 duced. One great peculiarity may be observed in the execution of the 
 stonework, the courses being irregular in size throughout, and so 
 arranged as to subserve and render prominent the main feature, which 
 is greatly assisted by the stones being laid in blue mortar, exhibiting 
 throughout a fine pencil joint. The combination of art and nature in 
 the carving is worthy of study, combining sufficient naturalness to give 
 grace, with artistic treatment to produce harmony of parts. The 
 carving throughout is executed in a most masterly and vigorous 
 manner, and reflects great credit upon the art-workmen. As will be 
 seen by the illustration, the features of the front consist on the ground 
 or street-floor of a double shop-front, with lobby and pair of folding- 
 doors in the centre. The front being enclosed by revolving iron shutters 
 at night, it required study to avoid the blank and unnatural appearance 
 given by this mass of shutter when closed. This object has been 
 achieved by placing four small iron columns at the angle of the sash 
 to support the fascia in front of the shutter-gearing, &c., and con¬ 
 necting them by iron bands forming spandrils, in which are introduced 
 wrought-iron foliage in harmony with the stone carving, but at the 
 same time preserving the metallic character. We would direct especial 
 attention to the wrought-iron work, both for its beauty, freedom of 
 design, and able execution. The fascia consists of serpentine marble 
 slabs, in three compartments, secured to the iron framing, and having 
 the name and business of the firm incised therein and gilded. Under 
 each window is a novel arrangement to avoid those unsightly brass 
 stall-board plates, and which would be well followed: it is the intro¬ 
 duction of colour-enamelled brass-plate in panels in the stone, fixed by 
 
 ornamental screws, and exhibiting the name, with accompanying colour 
 decoration to sustain the character in harmony with the other parts. 
 On the stone landing covering the shop fascia is an ornamental balcony 
 in wrought-iron, of somewhat more conventional design, on account of 
 close contiguity to the stone carving. The lobby doors and enclosure 
 are of Spanish mahogany of bold proportions, and moulded so as to 
 enhance the beauty of the material; and their effect is certainly good 
 and characteristic. The iron-work is painted in metallic tints, russet 
 and sage-green, relieved in parts by bright red and variation of the 
 tints. A bold pier of stone encloses the front on either side, and effec¬ 
 tually breaks off the adjoining houses, and in connexion with the stone 
 under the windows gives an entirety of connexion with the upper part 
 of the house. On the one-pair are three windows, the centre one of 
 bold proportion, with pointed arched head, the side ones with flat seg¬ 
 mental heads; a relieving arch flush with and bonded into the stone¬ 
 work above combining the three, and giving satisfaction to the mind 
 with respect to the superincumbent weight. The centre window is 
 enriched by a bold bead with ivy-leaves entwining round, and the 
 head by scallops with oak foliage and fruit. The side-windows are 
 enriched by knots of leaves twining over at intervals from a hollow 
 formed in the splay reveils, combining in the head, which is formed 
 into a shell cut from the solid, into a group of foliage of large size and 
 vigorous design. One window has the blackberryjvith flower and 
 fruit, the other the columbine with flowers, the arrangement of each 
 being different, although in harmony. We give a separate detail of 
 one of these windows in Plate IV. The sashes are mahogany in oak 
 frames, all polished and fitted each with a sheet of plate-glass. On 
 the second floor we have two windows; the wall-face being recessed, 
 gives a buttress in the centre, which is continued part way up the 
 story, and one on each side carried up to the coping above. These 
 windows may be called the chefs-d' oeuvre of the design. We give an 
 illustration of one of them on a larger scale. They are designed with 
 serpentine marble shafts in the reveils, with carved capitals, the capitals 
 being cleverly arranged without abaci, the carving gracefully running 
 up into the stop-pipe above, and avoiding that unconnected appear¬ 
 ance given by the orthodox method. These windows have balconies 
 with circular edges supported on enriched stone corbels, with 
 carved moulding between and wrought-iron ornamental balustrading; 
 the ornamentation of the edge of the stone balcony, as also the carving 
 of corbels, is most successful, and produces a good effect. On the 
 buttress between the windows a little stone-enriched diapering is intro¬ 
 duced as a connecting link to the carving. Over the heads of these 
 windows runs a moulded label arching, enclosing in the centre a chaste 
 bit of carving. Between the window-heads, a slab of marble of green 
 serpentine is inserted, exhibiting the date 1862 . The label-moulding 
 finishes at each end against the main buttresses with leafage. The 
 windows on the three-pair are two eights, with stop-chamfered reveils 
 and segmental heads, with bead key-stones over the heads; and com¬ 
 bined with the arches are introduced lozenge panels of red serpentine 
 marble, exhibiting the monograms of the firm. Over the space between 
 these windows is a parapet supported upon carved corbels and mouldings 
 projecting to the main frontage with notches coping on the top edge 
 of parapet. Over the window spring gables in stone, with a window 
 in each, having pointed arched heads with splayed reveils, &c. The 
 roof is curved and covered with slate, the party-walls visible on each 
 side, and the chimney-stacks are of yellow and white malines with stone 
 introduced. The sashes throughout are of mahogany, and the frames 
 oak, with plate-glass, it being one of the author’s theories that in 
 stone order no inferior or artificial material should be employed, but 
 everything as pure and natural as possible. 
 
 We will here note that the interior of these rooms is even more 
 recherche than the exterior; and the character has been fully carried 
 out in harmony—a thing seldom achieved in the present day; in fact, 
 the structure must be considered as a perfect whole, giving a full 
 embodiment of the author’s views, and is perhaps his most successful 
 effort. It must not, however, be overlooked that he has had the 
 assistance of an excellent builder—Mr. Hale, and also of Mr. Allen, the 
 art-workman; and a cursory glance at the building shows that the 
 Messrs. Phillips have not been sparing of their capital. Hence, what¬ 
 ever criticism Mr. Harris’s style may receive from his professional 
 brethren, there is not in the same space a more elegant, substantial, 
 and convenient building in the whole metropolis than that which we 
 have the pleasure of presenting this month to our subscribers. 
 
 What is before his eyes no one sees. Yet he would pierce the secrets 
 hid in every quarter of the sky.— Ennius. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF PALESTINE FROM THE EARLIEST 
 TIMES TO THE CRUSADES. 
 
 BY SIGNOE PIEROTTt, 
 
 Architect to the Pasha of Jerusalem. 
 
 Everything pertaining to the Land of Promise will always possess 
 a deep interest for all those whose religious faith has been derived 
 from those who once lived and laboured within its borders. The 
 written records of the lives of its people for many centuries are now 
 well known, for the Bible contains a full picture of the daily life of 
 the Israelites from their first entry into Canaan down almost to their 
 final expulsion from that country. But next to the sacred pages, the 
 monuments which were built by those old dwellers in Palestine must 
 always hold a pre-eminent position ; for although the land has been 
 swept by the besom of destruction, and Zion ploughed as a field, still 
 enough remains to tell ns what those buildings were which formed its 
 cities and temples, and the monuments which it raised over departed 
 greatness. It is a land of tombs, but every ruin tells its own tale, 
 and brings us nearer to the prophets and heroes of Judea than we 
 should otherwise be. 
 
 M. le Conte de Vogue, of Paris, thus writes, in the introduction to 
 his work upon the Churches of the Holy Land :—“ Setting aside the 
 ancient monuments—with which I was sufficiently well acquainted, 
 through my first visit to Jerusalem, of twenty-four days’ duration, and 
 with regard to which but little remains to be said—I have occupied 
 myself in the search after monuments of the Middle Ages.” This is 
 more than I can say after a residence of eight years in Palestine ; and, 
 more particularly, in Jerusalem. I am compelled to own that much 
 still remains for investigation and study in the monuments of anti¬ 
 quity ; while those of the Middle Ages are well known; greatly 
 owing, it must be confessed, to the labours of M. de Yogiie, who has 
 rendered true service to science, although he has fallen into the error 
 of ascribing all church architecture to the period of the Crusades. I 
 shall reply to this in due time, and will now proceed to speak of the 
 Jewish works, both before Solomon and during his reign and that of 
 Herod. Thence, I shall come to Constantine, Justinian, and the 
 Saracens, in order to reach the period of the Crusades. 
 
 Before the Reign of Solomon. 
 
 The condition of the country of Canaan previously to the conquest 
 of Joshua was not that of barbarism. It was certainly, to some 
 extent, a state of civilization. Arts, trade, industry, and commerce 
 were already considerably developed. We are not left ignorant that 
 the country possessed “ great and goodly cities,” and “ houses full of 
 all good things.” (Dent. vi. 10, 11.) But how are we to investigate 
 the remains of its edifices ? How ascertain their style of architecture ? 
 Certainly it is a study not unattended with difficulty. When the 
 chosen people entered the promised land, they had come from Egypt, 
 where art, trade, and luxury flourished. In the wilderness Moses 
 found artists of sufficient ability to construct the tabernacle. It may, 
 therefore, be inferred that they introduced their knowledge into Pales¬ 
 tine; but where are the monuments in proof? We well know that 
 the Hebrew people neglected everything else in favour of agriculture, 
 the knowledge of God, and the endeavour to make Him known to 
 others. Such was their indifference to aught else that they did not 
 even possess artisans capable of sharpening their implements of hus¬ 
 bandry, of which they always made use in war; and for this they 
 were obliged to have recourse to the Philistines. If they were wanting 
 then in the most necessary handicraft, how was it possible that they 
 should employ themselves in erecting architectural monuments and 
 transmitting them to posterity ? We read that David and Solomon 
 were obliged to apply to Hiram, King of Tyre, for artists and labourers 
 to execute their magnificent works. It must be confessed that the 
 want of monuments of this first epoch renders all research into the 
 architecture of ancient Judea exceedingly difficult. The people whose 
 name it bears has not even transmitted to us any historical notices on 
 that subject. I believe that, during the frequent excursions which I 
 made into the country, I came across the remains of walls and arches 
 of that date. The localities in which I discovered them and their 
 construction, I shall place before you, both by means of verbal de¬ 
 scription and by drawings. 
 
 Ephrath. 
 
 In the year 1729 before Christ, “ Rachel was buried in the way to 
 Ephrath.” (Gen. xxxv. 19.) Six hundred and thirty-four years after¬ 
 wards, Samuel said to Saul, “ When thou art departed from me to-day, 
 then thou shalt find two men by Rachel’s sepulchre in the border of 
 
 Benjamin at Zelzah.” (1 Sam. x. 2.) Upon the road leading from 
 Jerusalem to Bethlehem, the monument of Jacob’s wife is still to be 
 seen. To the east of this monument, at a distance of 400 feet, a 
 very ancient wall is found. This I believe to have been that of Zel¬ 
 zah. The wall appears to be of Pelasgian construction. It is com¬ 
 posed of large blocks of stone, measuring from 3 to 8 cubic feet each. 
 The stones are of the greatest solidity at the base, and diminish in 
 proportion as the vertical rows rise in height. These stones are 
 formed into broad, flat polygons, and united together without cement, 
 but with some degree of precision, by means of small stones employed 
 to fill up the interstices resulting from their irregular conformation. 
 The thickness of the walls at the foundation is 6 feet; above ground, 
 5 feet: its present length extends to about 208 feet. Above the 
 foundation are five rows of stone of unequal height, averaging from 
 8 to 9 feet. This relic of the past has been much mutilated by Arab 
 Vandalism, and portions of it used for the formation of fences. 
 
 That a city must formerly have existed on this spot is proved by 
 vestiges of other walls; by an aqueduct excavated in the rock and 
 covered with large flat polygonal flags ; by the fact that the surrounding 
 soil abounds with hewn stones, with cisterns dug out of the rock, and 
 with ruinous sepulchres which serve as places of shelter for shepherds 
 and their flocks. This wall, of which no author has made particular 
 mention, has some resemblance to the walls of Mantinea, which I 
 visited in Greece, in 1851. I have met with no similar construction 
 in any other part of Palestine. 
 
 Deir-el-Benat. 
 
 To the south of Bethlehem, and within an hour’s distance, lies the 
 valley of Deir-el-Benat, which joins that of Etbam, above the Arab 
 village now called Urtas. Upon ascending this valley for about a 
 quarter of an hour, the traveller sees some ancient ruins, which I take 
 to be those of Rath-rabbim of the Song of Solomon vii. 4. An 
 irregularly-shaped space of ground, measuring 52,000 square feet, is 
 surrounded by a wall 5 feet in thickness, and of unequal height, 
 varying from 12 feet to 24 feet. On the east it runs up to the moun¬ 
 tain : to the west it faces the torrent. On the latter side is a gate, 
 8 feet wide and 16 feet high, with jambs formed of several stones, 
 supporting a round-headed arch without the aid of a key-stone, which 
 arch is composed, like the side posts, of stones worked in rustication. 
 The entire wall is built of masses of rock roughly squared, in combi¬ 
 nation with others of polygonal shape, but all more or less showing 
 traces of rustication. The size of the stones in general is from 2 to 
 4 cubic feet. The spaces left in the wall are filled up with small 
 stones ; and the cement, which is not observable in the exterior, is 
 plainly perceptible in some parts of the interior of the wall. An ex¬ 
 amination of the cement convinced me that it was applied subsequently 
 to the original construction. Within the space surrounded by this 
 wall I discovered the rock hewn in such a manner as to form different 
 apartments, but no internal construction remains. I, however, col¬ 
 lected a number of small cubes of stone, which may be found in a 
 small portion of the ground. They measure three or four lines each 
 in surface, and form a mosaic, though without design. The gate is 
 inclosed by a strong Arab wall. I endeavoured to get it opened ; but 
 the Arabs, who foolishly pretend to call themselves the owners of the 
 place, forbade my entrance. Nevertheless, I succeeded, without the 
 aid of baksheesh, in forming an aperture sufficiently large to enable 
 me to see that the gate opened into a vast court, roughly hewn out of 
 the rock; and that from it were two openings leading into other 
 chambers. The walls bear the impress of the ages which they have 
 seen pass away, but are still firmly rooted in their original spot. The 
 same class of wall is found at Lower Beth-IIoron. As Solomon 
 erected buildings in that locality, it might be thought by some that 
 these were of his construction; but this is not the case. Such do 
 exist: so that it is easy to compare them, and observe that the one are 
 much more ancient than the other. 
 
 The Sepulchral Valley of the Jews at Jerusalem. 
 
 In close proximity with the sepulchres of the Jews, on the north, 
 lies a valley which must be traversed to reach Neby Samuil, the 
 ancient Ramah, the dwelling place of the prophet Samuel. A short 
 distance from the valley, eastward, are found portions of a wall, com¬ 
 posed of large rectangular stones, roughly put together, without 
 cement, mortice, or iron. Among them exists a doorway, 6 feet wide 
 and 12 feet high, the side-posts of which are each composed of a single 
 stone, and support a monolith architrave, 3 feet high, resting upon 
 them without cement. It bears a resemblance, on a very small scale, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 to the door of the Treasury of Atreus, at Mycenae. Of such con¬ 
 structions no trace is found after the period of Solomon. Throughout 
 the whole of Palestine nothing is to be seen so ancient as those I have 
 just described, and which I believe to be anterior to Solomon. 
 
 The works transmitted to us by the patriarchs are necropolises, 
 hewn out of the rock to serve for receptacles for the dead, as at 
 Hebron; monuments erected over graves, like those of Rachel, at 
 Ephratha, and Joseph, at Sicliem, formed of simple stones and without 
 inscription ; mausoleums, like that of Absalom, at Jerusalem ; the 
 level surfaces used as threshing-floors, as at Ramah and Gibeah ; and, 
 finally, the vast reservoirs, as on the way to Hebron. In all these 
 works, perseverance and strength to overcome the resistance of the 
 stone are plainly apparent; but the taste and genius of art are totally 
 wanting. 
 
 Sepulchre of Samuel, in Hamali. 
 
 It will not he out of place here to describe the construction of the 
 Sepulchre of Samuel, in Ramah, which I have minutely examined. 
 In ancient Ramah, now a village called in Arabic Neby Samuil, exists 
 a mosque, which was formerly a church, built by the Crusaders. The 
 walls of this building are far from corresponding with the magni¬ 
 ficence of its foundations, formed of enormous blocks of stone, which, 
 though defaced, still show traces of careful and elaborate rustication. 
 On the south-west side of this building stands another of the same 
 period. This contains, or rather covers, the rock in which is the 
 prophet’s sepulchre. By a door, formed of iron grating, opened for 
 me by the dervish in charge, I entered a chamber cut in the rock. In 
 the centre of this chamber is an enormous sarcophagus, which I re¬ 
 cognised at a glance as a specimen of Moslem architecture, and which 
 is the same that is exhibited with so much pretension and mystery 
 through a hole traversing the entire thickness of the rock, to persons 
 not permitted to set foot upon the rock overlying the tomb of the 
 prophet, hut who are obliged to be content with remaining in the 
 upper room, where there is another sarcophagus of wood. This sight 
 did not, however, suffice for me. Upon examining the court, I per¬ 
 ceived an opening ten inches in diameter, running through the rock 
 and communicating with a lower chamber, which was utterly dark. 
 Besides that, I saw a passage railed off with iron bars; and inferred, 
 from the rusty state of the gate, that the dervish himself never ven¬ 
 tured to visit the old prophet, whom the Mussulmans declare to he 
 still alive. All my endeavours to induce my guide to open this gate 
 were fruitless. Though he persisted in seeking to compel me to retire, 
 I accomplished my investigations, as well as I could, without him. By 
 means of lighted paper thrown down the hole to which I have alluded. 
 I discovered the existence, in the centre of the cavern, of a sarcophagus 
 of whitish stone, of rectangular form at its base, surmounted by a 
 triangular prism, without ornament or inscription. The walls of the 
 sepulchral chamber were smooth, like those of the one in which I 
 was. The smoothness retained the appearance of having been pro¬ 
 duced by a machine furnished with iron points, and which acted with 
 a rotatory motion. I made the same observation from the horizontal 
 grating, and perceived that the steps were cut in the rock itself. It 
 is under the sarcophagus that the tomb, cut vertically in the rock, must 
 be sought. In my examination I was favoured by fortune, or rather 
 by the humidity of the place itself. Had it not been for this, the 
 lighted paper which I employed would have ignited the petitions 
 addressed to the prophet, and I should have been subjected to the 
 wrath, not only of the custodian, but of the whole village. 
 
 From, the Period of Solomon to Herod. 
 
 During the timfcs of David and Solomon luxury increased among 
 the Jews. The arts and industry greatly improved under the influence 
 of Phoenician artists and craftsmen, who came to Judea in large num¬ 
 bers, and afforded the Hebrews the opportunity of learning their arts. 
 Of the works accomplished by David we have no indications or trace 
 remaining. No doubt can be entertained that he furnished the means 
 and planned the localities, and that his ideas were carried into execution 
 by Solomon. The latter was not occupied, like the former, in fighting 
 against enemies and founding new institutions; and, therefore, was at 
 liberty to devote his wisdom and energy to the augmentation of the 
 splendour of his kingdom by the erection of stupendous buildings, by 
 commercial enterprise, and by the encouragement of luxury little in 
 keeping with the constitution of the country. But of all his great 
 works, what remains have we ? The Scriptures inform us: Nebu¬ 
 chadnezzar converted them into a heap of ruins by fire, employed men 
 to raze the walls and fortifications, and carried the people into captivity. 
 In the reign of Cyrus, fifty-two years afterwards and 536 years before 
 
 Jesus Christ, the exiles returned to their native land; rebuilt Jeru¬ 
 salem and the Temple of the Lord, which did not equal the first in 
 splendour, in consequence of which Herod substituted for it one far 
 grander. The whole of the long period which elapsed between So¬ 
 lomon and Herod is utterly unproductive of monumental remains. 
 We have certainly not a building, perhaps not even a capital, of the 
 time. Of the latter, however, I speak doubtfully. The capital of the 
 monolith found under the mosque of Aksa is at present the subject of 
 serious study and investigation, with a view to assigning it to the 
 Solomonic or Herodian epoch. In Jerusalem and Palestine in general, 
 we have only blocks of worked stones, walls, reservoirs, and aqueducts 
 of the period in question to discuss; and of these I will now proceed 
 to speak. 
 
 The existing walls of Jerusalem, especially on the east, mark the 
 various epochs at which they were built. At their base I recognise 
 the work of Solomon’s period; higher up, some portions of the walls 
 as rebuilt after the captivity. Other parts show the refined work¬ 
 manship of the Herodian age, while Roman and Saracenic work is not 
 rare. The character of the Solomonic walls, as alluded to by Flavius 
 Josephus (book xv. chap. 31, 3), I recognised, on examining the stones 
 forming the foundation of the actual walls of Jerusalem, on the east, 
 on which side I made deep excavations, in order to satisfy myself of 
 the fact. The large stones composing the foundations vary in length, 
 and are squared with some degree of exactitude. They have a smooth 
 border round the rustication, about 2^ inches wide. The rustication 
 itself projects about 3 inches. The stones are joined together by 
 means of mortices cut in the stones, or by cubical clamps of lead and 
 iron, but no sort of cement is apparent. Above the foundation, stones 
 are seen in relief; hence, those portions of the wall in which the courses 
 of vertical and horizontal stones are uniform and well joined, I call 
 Solomonic; but where the construction is irregular, and the external 
 surface of the stones shows the mortices for the tenons, or for the 
 clamp, I assign them to the epoch subsequent to the captivity. At 
 that period the walls were rebuilt in the greatest haste to resist the 
 attacks of an enemy who might appear at any moment, as we find 
 from the Book of Nehemiah. Hence the inequality in their con¬ 
 struction, and the laying of the stones face downwards. 
 
 The rustication, then, I attribute to Solomon, who undoubtedly em¬ 
 ployed it in a rough state in the foundations, as is clearly apparent; 
 and also in the building of the towers; and, more finely executed, in 
 the construction of the rest of the wall of the enclosure. The reason 
 why so few remains of external walls of Solomon’s time are to be seen 
 may be found in the devastations of fire, Vandalism, successive repairs, 
 and the new conformation given to the stones during the period of 
 Herod and Justinian. This I shall presently point out, and show 
 that Herod himself employed rustication in some parts of his forti¬ 
 fications. 
 
 Speaking of the working of the stones of which the Temple was 
 built, Josephus remarks that they were polished and joined together 
 in such a way that it was impossible to discover the joins. Of this 
 no vestige remains in Jerusalem. Time, fire, and man have never 
 spared the eternal city, and we are compelled to turn elsewhere for 
 other relics which evidence science and genius. 
 
 Solomon’s ^Reservoirs in Ftham. 
 
 To the south of Bethlehem, and at an hour’s-distance from it, upon 
 the west side of the road which leads to Hebron, stands a ruined 
 Mediaeval castle. This ruin looks as if it stood sentinel over three 
 large reservoirs, which are not only, without doubt, the grandest 
 work existing in Palestine; but are also, indubitably, of high anti¬ 
 quity, and may safely be assigned to the Solomonic era, in accordance 
 with tradition. It is remarkable that neither the Bible nor Josephus 
 directly describes them. The latter, however, in his “ Antiquities” 
 (viii., 7, 3), mentions a city called Etham, where was erected the 
 summer palace of Solomon, of which the rabbis give so glowing a 
 description. It is probably this palace which is referred to in Eccle¬ 
 siastes iii. 4, 5, 6. Of the magnificent grounds nothing remains but 
 some land under excellent cultivation by Mr. Meshullam. This spot, 
 which is situate to the east of the reservoirs, and in the northern 
 continuation of the valley, retains the name of the enclosed garden 
 (Can. 4, 12), in honour of Solomon. At various times, among others 
 in May, 1861, Meshullam, in digging the ground for cultivation, has 
 met with the remains of ancient walls, reservoirs, and aqueducts, cut 
 in the rock. 
 
 The three great basins are situate in the valley of Etham, which 
 runs down from west to east with a very steep slope. They are fed 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 U 
 
 by the rain-water that flows down from the two sides of the moun¬ 
 tains, and from a fountain situate to the west of the castle, in a direct 
 line to its northern side, at a distance of about 450 feet. I state this 
 because the entrance to the fountain, which is circular in toim, is 
 hidden by stones, and difficult to find. Solomon probably alludes to 
 this very fountain in his Song (iv. 12), and it is still called the 
 Sealed Fountain. All the three reservoirs are cut out of the solid 
 rock. In some parts they still retain a cement so hard that twenty- 
 nine centuries have been unable to exercise any destructive iorce upon 
 it. It seems perfectly clear that the primary object of the construction 
 of these reservoirs was the supply of Jerusalem with water, as Mount 
 Moriah is at the present time supplied, in consequence of restorations 
 directed by myself. It is a subject of great regret that Lhe repairs 
 which have several times been executed are never suffered to continue 
 long undisturbed, because the shepherds, Fellahs, or peasants, and 
 Bedouins, continually destroy portions of the conduit, in order to 
 procure the water for their own private wants; and it is difficult in an 
 Arab country to maintain a proper watch over a circuitous line of 
 about 15,000 yards. However solemnly the guardians may promise 
 to fulfil the duties which they undertake, they are easily induced to 
 slumber under the influence of the god Baksheesh. 
 
 The first reservoir to the west is 393 feet long: its average breadth 
 is 225 feet, and its average depth 30 feet. The second, distant about 
 158 feet from the first, is 432 feet long, its width 225 feet, and average 
 depth 42 feet. At a distance from this of 186 feet is the last, 477 feet 
 long, 213 feet in average width, and in average depth 58 feet. All 
 three, unitedly, occupy a square superficies of 179,541 feet, and 
 12,089,450 cubic feet of the rock from which they are formed. What 
 conqueror or ruler of Palestine could execute so stupendous a work ? 
 It must be allowed that the glory of having effected it is due alone to 
 Solomon’s genius. But it is not only in the construction of these 
 water-receptacles that hydraulic knowledge and science are apparent. 
 More especially are they displayed in the vast ramifications of the 
 conduits which convey the water from great distances and various 
 quarters; in the formation of various water towers; in the contrivance 
 for filtration; in the manner with which the water is introduced with¬ 
 out the least waste; and, finally, in the mode of its conveyance 
 through the conduits to Jerusalem. I am sorry to be prevented by 
 the pressure of time from entering into all these details ; but I must 
 not pass over the principal without more special mention. The others 
 may be learned from a paper which it is my intention to print before 
 long. 
 
 Let us return to the Sealed Fountain, enter it by the opening, and 
 descend a sufficiently incommodious passage for about 14 feet. At the 
 extremity we come to a rectangular chamber, 18 feet long, 10 feet wide, 
 and 20 feet high, whose lateral walls are formed of large Solomonic 
 stones. At the base they are rusticated, and on the upper surface 
 smooth. The vault is a round arch, constructed of large stones, laid 
 in horizontal courses j nor does the keystone show. No cement is 
 used in the construction. In the middle of the western wall is 
 another aperture, which leads to a small cavern where a stream issues 
 out of the rock. At the western corners are two other openings in 
 which springs are seen dripping from the rock. These three fountains 
 deliver themselves into the rectangular chamber, in the middle of 
 which is a reservoir to receive them. In this basin they are filtered 
 previously to passing into the large conduit, which commences at the 
 eastern wall. The conduit is cut in the rock for a great distance; 
 but the upper part, as it approaches the old castle, is covered with 
 large flat slabs. It is 3 feet wide, and 4^ feet high. The waters of 
 this conduit fall a distance of twenty feet at the north-west comer of 
 the upper reservoir, where they are caught in a basin. From thence 
 one part of the water is turned into the first pool, while another portion 
 is conveyed by the aqueduct, which runs parallel with the reservoirs to 
 the point at which the waters of the reservoirs enter the water tower, 
 whence they proceed, by the conduit, to Jerusalem. 
 
 When the reservoirs are so full that they can receive no more water, 
 to avoid waste the water is received in the basin near the castle, where 
 there is a third aperture leading into a subterranean chamber. Here 
 it unites with the other water, forms a new stream, and all flows to¬ 
 gether through a subterranean conduit dug in the rock, to supply the 
 water-tower from whence the conduit.for Jerusalem runs. From the 
 same point proceeds another conduit, which passes southward, at a 
 distance of 600 feet from the third reservoir. This, in case of great 
 abundance of water, could be directed into the valley for irrigation. 
 The whole system of aqueducts has ceased to be of use, because the 
 streams are not abundant; indeed, alone they would be quite inade¬ 
 
 quate to feed such vast receptacles. During the eight years of my 
 stay, it was only once—in 1860—that I saw the three reservoirs full. 
 At other times, it is the second only that has water, and not always 
 that. The whole length of the conduit running to Jerusalem is 
 covered with large stones. In some parts it is constructed of masonry; 
 in others formed in the rock ; and, in a few small portions, it consists 
 of terra-cotta tubes, of which I believe it to have been entirely formed 
 originally. I must beg to be excused, on the ground of want of time, 
 if I enter into no further details in connexion with this interesting 
 topic. 
 
 Mosque of Abraham, at Hebron. 
 
 In Hebron, as every one is aware, is the Cave of Machpelah, pur¬ 
 chased by Abraham, and appropriated by him as a sepulchre for him¬ 
 self and his descendants. This cave is surrounded by a wall of the 
 highest antiquity ; but the precise date of its origin has not been stated 
 by any writer. I have no hesitation in following the Arab chroniclers 
 of the sixth and seventh centuries, as well as the traditions of the 
 country, and declaring it to be of the Solomonic, and not of the 
 Herodian, age. At the time of Josephus (“Wars of the Jews,” 
 book 4, ix. 11), the monuments of the patriarchs, in beautiful marble 
 and of elegant construction, were still seen. Now had they been 
 erected by Herod, the historian would not have omitted to describe 
 them, when he speaks of other important works executed by the same 
 sovereign, since he wrote not very long after the period, and was ever 
 ready to magnify the monumental works of the Hebrews. We may 
 reasonably infer that he does not describe it as Solomon’s, because the 
 fact was perfectly well known in his time; as Eusebius and Jerome, 
 for the same reason, are silent about it when they name Abraham s 
 sepulchre. Some have fancifully attributed it to St. Helen, but it would 
 appear that they have overlooked the assertion of Pelgrim, of Bor¬ 
 deaux, who visited Hebron in 333, and describes this surrounding wall 
 as constructed of stones of enormous size. Antoninus, the martyr, in 
 the sixth century, makes like mention of it, but does not say that it 
 was the work of the Byzantine empress. 
 
 Epoch of Herod. 
 
 Herod struggled all his life long to secure the title of the Great ; 
 yet he was nothing more than the magnificent slave of the Romans, 
 who allowed him fetters of gold. But from the country and posterity 
 he well deserves the epithet “ great,” in consideration of the sumptuous 
 monuments erected by him. Little does it matter to us, in our ex¬ 
 aminations, that they were proofs of his servility or his ambition. Let 
 us proceed to examine them. Some masses of ruins, some trunks of 
 columns, walls, solid foundations, sepulchres built or embellished, and 
 the basements of towers, but no one entire edifice, nor any ornamented 
 one. It is undeniable that Palestine is a sepulchre of edifices, as of 
 individuals. 
 
 In Jerusalem we find, belonging to this glorious epoch, some por¬ 
 tions of the wall surrounding Moriah, on the eastern and western sides; 
 the entire plan of the construction of the Phazelus ; some few remnants 
 of the solid masonry of the Tower of Psephinus; the remains of two 
 others which flank the North Gate; the existing sub-basement of the 
 Damascus Gate, which I discovered in March, 1861; finally, the em¬ 
 bellishments added to the sepulchres of the Valley of Jehosaphat, to 
 the north and south. Of all these mention has been made by those 
 who have written upon Jerusalem down to the present time. Little, 
 therefore, remains for me to say; and I will be as brief as possible. I 
 accept the opinion of Mr. Williams that it is the Appic Tower which 
 remains on the west of the Castle of David, and that of Phazelus on the 
 east. The latter preserves the architectural type of a Herodian tower, 
 as described by Josephus (book v. 4, 2). It is based upon the rock, 
 which rises 5 feet above the level of the ground, and is covered with 
 masonry of large rusticated stones. Here I observe that Herod, in his 
 fortifications, made use of the Solomonic level, as I could plainly per¬ 
 ceive in Herodium, Cesarea, and other places. The Jewish wall rises 
 38 feet 6 inches above the side of the fosse. Each course of stones 
 recedes by five lines from the base upwards. I would, however, re¬ 
 mark that in the interior it is 11 feet thick, relatively to the upper 
 level of the east trench, which is 14 feet deep, and measures 40 cubits 
 on each side, reckoning the cubit at about 18 inches. It is, then, the 
 same Tower of Phazael described by the historian, who tells us that 
 Titus (“ Wars of the Jews,” 7, 11) would have it preserved to show 
 the kind of towers that fortified the city which he had taken by his 
 armies. Some may object that Josephus mentions a cistern, and this 
 is not to be found. But would it be possible to preserve it, in accord¬ 
 ance with the system of fortification in use in the Middle Ages ? I 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 55 
 
 think not. I meet with nothing in opposition to the idea that the 
 cistern was destroyed in order to gain a clear space of about 20 cubic 
 feet, which would be valuable when soldiers required to be lodged there. 
 It is unnecessary to draw attention to the other towers which flank the 
 Damascus Gate, and which I discovered by means of excavations. 
 With the exception that they are of smaller dimensions, they differ in 
 no respect from those already described. I may, however, say that 
 the gate which I discovered, and which I call the North Gate (Jose¬ 
 phus, “ Wars of the Jews,” 5, 42), is 12 feet wide, and 26 feet high, 
 with a round arch. The stones composing the jambs and the arch are 
 of large dimensions; and this discovery is not so important in an 
 architectural point of view as on account of the ancient city walls of 
 Herod’s time. It is one of the most interesting points in support of 
 my opinion, that the walls on the north did not extend beyond the 
 present walls. Not to dwell for ever upon the subject of walls, I will 
 avoid going farther into the matter here; but I will remark that the 
 ancient portions on the eastern side of Moriah, like those at the Jews’ 
 Wailing-place, appear to me to bear the Herodian character. I am 
 far from adopting the opinion of M. de Saulcy, member of the Institute 
 of France, who believes them to be Solomonic. Their construction 
 shows great perfection, on account of the beauty of the materials em¬ 
 ployed, the regularity of their arrangement, and the vertical joints 
 which rest upon the middle of the corresponding stones in the lower 
 and upper courses; nothing of which is seen nearly so admirably 
 executed in the walls styled Solomonic. In the .latter, artistic genius 
 just developing itself is observable : in the former, genius seems to have 
 attained its full growth. 
 
 The Golden Gate, to the east of Moriah, is judged to be Herodian 
 from its ornaments; but I am not of that opinion. I know that the 
 Temple and its walls were destroyed by the Homans; and it seems to 
 me impossible that this gate, with its ornamentation, should have 
 escaped the devastation. Its jambs are formed of stones square and 
 not levelled. They of themselves, therefore, furnish proof of having 
 been morticed in the old wall. The ornamented arches are cased with 
 Roman masonry. How then is it possible to suppose them Herodian ? 
 Those who take this view do so because the lintels and architraves of 
 the doors are formed of enormous blocks. It is true that this material 
 is Herodian, and this has led to the erroneous induction. I believe 
 that these blocks are remaining portions of the ancient Eastern Gate; 
 and that to them the more recent construction has been applied, formed 
 upon the same plan as the ancient gate. I think so because the 
 foundation walls have been discovered, and because it is said, in the 
 Mishna, that the Eastern Gate was 40 cubits long and 20 wide, and 
 these are exactly its dimensions. 
 
 We will now visit the sepulchres in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem. 
 I unhesitatingly confess that I believe the ornamentation of all of 
 them to be of later date than their original construction, and am of 
 opinion that it was added during the Herodian period. I might 
 maintain that the Sepulchres of the Kings were formed by order of 
 that great sovereign for himself and his descendants; but what proofs 
 have we in support of this idea ? I hope M. de Saulcy will not hear 
 me, since he attributes them to the era of the kings of Judah, to 
 which epoch it was necessary that he should trace them, when he was 
 pleased to characterize the sarcophagus taken from them as that of 
 David, in order that he might deposit it in triumph at the Louvre, in 
 Paris. By parity of reasoning, I have met with the sarcophagi of 
 Solomon and Rehoboam, one of which is, in fact, broken into frag¬ 
 ments, while the other serves as a receptacle for water in the Hall of 
 Justice at Jerusalem. 
 
 Let us now examine some of the sepulchres in detail. That of 
 Absalom is a cubical monolith, measuring 21 feet on each side. Ionic 
 columns support an entablature ornamented with Doric triglyphs and 
 pateras. Above this frieze is an Egyptian cornice, at which point the 
 monolith ceases. The whole of the upper part is in masonry. It is 
 composed of a square dado, surmounted by a cylinder, which is ter¬ 
 minated by a torus, representing an enormous twisted cable: the whole 
 is completed by a kind of pyramid of curved conical form, finished 
 with a bouquet of palm-leaves. The total height of the monument is 
 52 feet. It exhibits, therefore, a mixture of the Greek and Egyptian 
 styles. 
 
 Herod was of Idumean origin, it will be remembered. In Idumea 
 are some monuments which recal Absalom’s to mind. At the north¬ 
 west corner of the vestibule, cut in the rock which surrounds the Tomb 
 of Absalom, is a rich pediment, ornamented with acroters and foliage. 
 That of the Jews, to the north of Jerusalem, is of the same de¬ 
 scription. 
 
 To visit the Sepulchres of the Kings a court must be entered by a 
 door excavated in the rock, ornamented by a simple fillet in relief. 
 This is underground up to the commencement of the arch. At the 
 extremity of the court is a vestibule, formerly adorned in the interior 
 with two columns, which have been destroyed, partly by an earthquake, 
 partly by violence. Above the vestibule is a fascia in sculpture. The 
 centre of the fascia is ornamented with a bunch of grapes, now sadly 
 mutilated. On the right and left of this is a triple palm, a wreath of 
 olive-leaves and triglyphs, and alternated with patera three times re¬ 
 peated. Above these is a garland of leaves and fruits, which droops 
 at right angles from each side of the aperture of the vestibule. Above 
 the line of the triglyphs is a cornice in a very ruined condition. Can 
 this ornamentation have been executed at the period of the kings of 
 Judah? I believe not; but, if I err, I am open to conviction. Would 
 that we could find something more satisfactory in Samaria, Cesarea, 
 Antipatris, Herodium, Phazael, and at Castle Cypron; but, excepting 
 some columns, a few ruinous capitals, and immense accumulations of 
 stones, nothing can be discovered of the great Herodian constructions. 
 I therefore turn to a more recent epoch. 
 
 Period of Constantine. 
 
 When the accession of Constantine the Great to the throne had 
 secured the triumph of the Cross, Palestine witnessed a vast architec¬ 
 tural movement, and a number of churches were erected in localities 
 rendered celebrated by the evangelical mission of Our Saviour (and 
 which had been moistened with His blood). From this cause, in the 
 fourth century, Jerusalem attracted the special attention of the Chris¬ 
 tian monarch and his pious mother; and here was erected a basilica 
 which silver, art, and precious materials combined to render worthy of 
 their piety and magnificence. I will first describe the Basilica of the 
 Resurrection, and then proceed to other monuments, the work of the 
 first Byzantine emperor. It will, I think, be interesting to my hearers 
 if I give some description of the Sepulchre of Christ, over which 
 Constantine erected the Temple. I cannot stop to consider all the 
 objections brought against the authenticity of the tomb, but will merely 
 observe that the tomb exists, and that I have seen it. In the neigh¬ 
 bourhood of the city, particularly on the north and east, tombs cut in 
 the rocks may still be seen. Many are in a ruinous condition, others 
 are more perfect. They are composed of two divisions: the vestibule 
 and the sepulchral chamber ; the latter closed by means of a stone of 
 elliptic form. The Evangelist St. Matthew (xxvii. 60) describes an 
 occurrence which may be witnessed in the present day in the same 
 locality:—“ And Joseph laid the body in his own new tomb, which he 
 had hewn out in the rock; and he rolled a great stone to the door of 
 the sepulchre, and departed.” 
 
 Christ’s sepulchre, as at present existing, is divided into two com¬ 
 partments ; the vestibule, in which the guard of soldiers was placed, 
 and the tomb itself, which has a small door of the same construction 
 as those of the Sepulchres of the Kings and of Saint Pelagia on the 
 Mount of Ascension. The religious Greeks, Ax-menians, and Latins 
 assert that the whole monument of the present sepulchre is rock, be¬ 
 neath the marble facing. I could not discover this, nor do I believe 
 it. Even if it withstood the destruction which befell the city under 
 Titus, and the occurrences of Hadrian’s time, we know from history 
 that it was greatly mutilated by Chosroes II. in 614, and by Ilakem, 
 caliph of Egypt, in 1010. But I am quite certain, beyond all doubt, 
 that I saw and. touched the rock in the pavement, which rises at the 
 distance of 21 feet to the west of the sepulchre and in the sepulchre 
 itself, by the longitudinal cutting which is here exhibited. It is essential 
 to remark that all the sepulchres of antiquity are of the same length 
 and breadth,—the former 6 feet, the latter 2^; and in this respect the 
 sepulchre of Christ forms no exception to others. The disputes would 
 never have arisen if Constantine had not been guilty of the religious 
 Vandalism of separating the sepulchre from the rock on the western 
 side, in order to inclose the sepulchre within the temple, and the 
 further barbarism of adapting the sepulchre to the temple, and not the 
 temple to the sepulchre. 
 
 The present Church of the Resurrection retains none of the elements 
 of the grandeur of Constantine. They disappeared when the invasions 
 of the Persians and Saracens covered Palestine with ruins. The suc¬ 
 cessive repairs to which such portions as escaped have since been sub¬ 
 jected, have deprived the structure of the characteristics of the fourth 
 century, with the exception of the north wall and the walls and pilasters 
 of the great cupola, which are primitive. The Crusaders, who found 
 the sanctuaries separated, reunited them; and it is their work which is 
 now seen. From their time to the present, no change of importance 
 has taken place. On the 12th October, 1808, a part of the rotunda 
 
56 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 and the Calvary, also a portion of the south wall towards the west, 
 were destroyed by fire. The absurd and unintelligent repairs of the 
 Greeks in many points completed the devastations begun by the flames; 
 and numbers of interesting details of Gothic or Byzantine art disap¬ 
 peared, thanks to the degenerate sons of Constantine the Great. The 
 precious marbles which ornamented the Basilica of Constantine were 
 taken by the Mussulmans in the seventh centux-y to adorn their 
 mosques, especially Koubbet-es-Sakharah. Hence, among the ruins 
 recently removed from the eastern side of the sepulchre, shafts of 
 columns have been found, formed of beautiful marble and granite, with 
 capitals in foi’m precisely like the gilded capitals of the mosque. It 
 cannot be supposed, because these precious relics are found thex'e, that 
 the remains of the mosque, which was never destroyed from the period 
 of its erection, had been cai-ried and placed round the sepulchre and in 
 the vicinity of the south. I am, therefore, compelled to conclude that 
 it is not in the Temple of the Resurrection, but elsewhere, that we 
 must seek the elements of the period of Constantine. 
 
 Let us now turn to Bethlehem. The Basilica of the Nativity at 
 Bethlehem was begun by St. Helena, and terminated by her son Con¬ 
 stantine, between the years 327 and 333 of the Christian era. Some 
 authors have attributed the erection of this monument to Justinian; 
 but a very cursoi’y inspection will suffice to prove that it presents none 
 of the characteristics of the ai'chitecture of the sixth century, and that 
 this opinion must consequently be en-oneous. It is the oldest and best 
 authenticated monument of Christian art in Palestine. The eye em¬ 
 braces five naves at a single glance. The centre nave is larger than 
 both the two together on either side of it. They are of great length, 
 and formed by four rows of Corinthian monolithic columns, and are 
 composed with eleven intercolumniations. The transept is as wide as 
 the centre nave. The north and south extremities terminate each in 
 a semicircular apse, with a radius of 14 feet. These apses project be¬ 
 yond the exterior walls of the building. On the east, on the side of 
 the transept, separated by a wall formed by the Greeks, the five naves 
 reappear, and form the choir of the church. The centre nave is com¬ 
 posed of two intercolumniations and a semicircular apse, equal with 
 those which terminate the transepts. The two which succeed, right 
 and left, are terminated by a straight wall, which commences at the 
 choir. Owing to this arrangement of the lower sides of the basilica, 
 the upper portion of the cross is symmetrical in relation to its lateral 
 arms. The width of the great centre nave is 30 feet; the first lateral 
 nave, 12 feet; the second, 10 feet; so that the total width of the five 
 naves is 74 feet, while the entire length of the centre nave is 180 feet. 
 
 The monolithic columns forming the divisions of the naves are 
 17 feet 3 lines in height: their capitals are Corinthian; that is to say, 
 the proportions only slightly differ from the proportions demanded by 
 the rules generally observed in the time of the Roman empire. In 
 fact, the column is short relatively to the diameter of the base, which 
 measures 2 feet 6 lines. Besides this, it presents no very distinctive 
 characteristics, but shows signs of the decadence, reposing as it does 
 upon a plinth which measures 3 feet 2 lines on each side. This want 
 of proportion has been supposed by some to have been owing to the 
 inability of the calcareous bed from which the columns wei'e derived 
 to produce monoliths of gi’eater height; but as the quarries still exist, 
 and I have carefully examined them, I cannot admit the explanation; 
 but rather opine that it is simply the result of the decadence of art. 
 As I have already stated, the diameter of the base of the column is 
 2 feet 6 lines ; the height of the shaft, comprising the base and capital, 
 is 17 feet 3 lines; and, consequently, the latter is short in proportion 
 to the former. Further, the base has no very decided character. It 
 rests upon a rectangular plinth, measuring 3 feet 2 lines on each side. 
 I may furthei* add, that the total number of entire columns is forty- 
 six, of half columns eighteen, and that the latter are inserted in the 
 pilasters on the wall, where the rows of columns terminate. In the 
 abacus, all these are ornamented with ci-osses in relief. In the lateral 
 naves (side aisles ?) architraves support the [framing of the] roof. In 
 the central naves the walls, which are 30 feet high, are also supported 
 by the architraves on which rests the great armatura of the roof. 
 The roof is not vaulted, but composed entirely of wood. In the upper 
 part the walls contain circular-headed windows corresponding with each 
 space between the lower columns. The spaces between the windows, 
 and all the rest of the surface of the walls, in the twelfth century, 
 were ornamented with mosaic work. The present roof dates from the 
 seventeenth century, and the Greeks alone claim the right to repair it. 
 I conclude, then, this is the only complete work of Constantine which 
 remains to us after the lapse of 1529 yeai's. This alone has survived 
 every destructive influence, and maintained its ancient characteristics. 
 
 It is a very striking specimen of Roman genius. The venerable aspect 
 of the edifice, the harmony of its combinations, and its original con¬ 
 ception, all arouse admiration. It is indisputable that the general plan 
 of the church produces an impression of beauty, not only from its 
 dimensions and the simplicity of its outlines, but because it is the em-" 
 bodiment of an intelligent phase of religious architecture, and thus 
 cannot fail to satisfy the taste and please the eye. 
 
 Other remains of the period of Constantine and of his mother 
 Helena are met with in many parts of Palestine, but they consist 
 simply of walls, heaps of stones, shafts of columns, and mutilated 
 capitals. I shall, therefore, pass them over without special mention. 
 The buildings erected subsequently to Constantine are mere cemeteries 
 of stones, mutilated by Mussulman fanaticism. 
 
 Epoch of Justinian. 
 
 The Emperor Justinian, no less ardent than his predecessors in 
 erecting religious edifices, did not forget the Holy Land, but there 
 raised a great number of such structures. All, however, which remain 
 standing as mementoes of him are the Basilica of Saint Mary, at Je¬ 
 rusalem, now converted into the Mosque El-Aksa; the tower called 
 Justinian’s, at Bethlehem; and the ruins of the Church of St. George, 
 at Lydda, the ancient Diospolis. In other parts of Palestine, other 
 religious monuments were erected by this emperor, but their localities 
 are only indicated by heaps of ruins. The details have vanished, either 
 from the effects of fire or violence, chiefly through Mohammedan 
 fanaticism. The Aksa shows its Christian origin, and Procopius has 
 left us a detailed account of its construction (De A. Edif. Justin. 5, 6). 
 
 It has in front of it a portico with a vaulted roof, corresponding with 
 the seven naves of the church. The central arch is much larger than 
 those on either side. The exterior and interior pi-esent very pointed 
 arches. The whole building exhibits the well-known plan of a primi¬ 
 tive Christian basilica. The centre nave is supported by six large 
 columns of breccia rossa of Palestine, with ordinary Corinthian capi¬ 
 tals, somewhat disfigured by incongruous details and ornament. These 
 columns support pointed arches, above which are two rows of windows. 
 The first two lateral naves are supported by square piers: the other 
 four are much lower, of a totally different construction, and appear to 
 have been added at a much later date. In this particular, I fully agree 
 with the Rev. Geo. Williams in his “ Holy City,” that the mosque was 
 enlarged on the east and west sides by El-Makdi, in 775, 785. 
 
 The Tower of Justinian, at Bethlehem, built for the defence of the 
 Temple of the Nativity, merits some notice. It is square, and measui'es 
 97 feet on each side: its height is 122 feet. The walls, which are 
 22 feet thick, are solid, and built with large blocks, which diminish 
 with each course of stone. The Gi-eeks, who are the possessors of the 
 tower, in the thickness of the walls have made sevei-al chambers, which 
 are used for the reception of pilgrims. The largest of these chambers 
 is capable of containing forty persons. I have mentioned this edifice 
 to show that a complete work of Justinian’s era exists at Bethlehem, 
 and that as far as masonry is concerned, it will bear comparison with 
 that employed by Constantine in the Basilica of the Nativity, In the 
 latter, the good Roman style is seen; in the tower, the decadence. 
 The Church of Saint George, at Lydda, the ancient Diospolis, was 
 erected by Justinian. Of this splendid edifice nothing at present 
 remains but a portion of the walls and the eastern choir, with some 
 magnificent pilastei-s and capitals. On the south side is a large 
 pointed arch, supported by large columns, mortised in the piers, and 
 surmounted by Corinthian capitals. A great part of the church still 
 remaining has been converted into a mosque by the Mussulmans. 
 The design which I exhibit will show the date of this monument better 
 than any description. 
 
 Epoch of the Arabs. 
 
 I do not think it necessary to translate the description of the Mosque 
 of Omar, seeing that it has already been translated for the Mount 
 Moriah. The whole platform is foi-med of the rock, which is clearly 
 seen on going into the dwellings of the Dervishes and the guardians; 
 as well as in some oratories and in the cisterns, especially the two on 
 the north of the Great Mosque. 
 
 Koubbet-es-Sahharah,—the Dome of the EocJc. 
 
 Its plan is simple: two concentric octagonal aisles surround the 
 cii-cular central part, which supports a Pointed dome. The form of 
 the dome serves alone to characterize the building. The many de¬ 
 scriptions given of its interior prevent me from repeating it; and I 
 shall only remark that its doorways and windows are of Pointed style; 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 5T 
 
 that the sixteen columns standing in the inner octagon aisles are of 
 equal height, and have the same capitals, but rest on unequal bases 
 which exhibit very much the characteristics of the period of decadence 
 to which the building belongs; that the twelve columns, which are to 
 be found between the four piers supporting the tympanum of the 
 dome, have a diameter different from the sixteen first met with, as well 
 as different proportions of shaft, capital, and base; and that all these 
 columns support arches slightly Pointed. The vaulting of the dome 
 is of wood, covered with Arabic gilding. The tympanum and 
 spandrels of the arches are inlaid with elegant mosaics, which date 
 from the time of the sultan Selim I. All this induces me to 
 believe, according to history, that the mosque was erected by Abd- 
 el-Melik Merwan, in the year 68 of the Hegira, and that its columns 
 of precious marbles, and various origin, have been taken by the Mus¬ 
 sulmans from the Basilica erected by Constantine over the Sepulchre 
 of Jesus Christ. Constantine alone is well known to have enriched 
 the religious edifices of the Christians with marbles; and history re¬ 
 produces but too many examples of the spoliation of these buildings 
 by the Mussulmans to decorate their mosques. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON THE FUTURE OF AECHITECTUEE. 
 
 TnERE is no phrase more frequently in use amongst all classes of society, 
 than that we live in an age of transition and progress. It is a truth 
 which is more applicable perhaps to architecture than any other of the 
 arts, although w r e frequently hear the reproach that there is nothing 
 original to be seen. Surely this reproach is unmerited, and even a 
 casual survey of the contents of the Architectural Gallery at the Inter¬ 
 national Exhibition cannot fail to impress the mind with a sense 
 of the great amount of original and varied treatment to be found in 
 the designs exhibited there. We must not be impatient, nor expect 
 overmuch; indeed, the more slowly developments of new styles or 
 changes of old ones proceed, the more reliance may we place on the 
 final result. Working in stone, iron, and wood, is a serious business, 
 involving such expense that employers, even those most disposed to 
 accept or promote something out of the beaten track, may fairly be 
 excused for pausing before they commit themselves to untried effects. 
 Therefore it is that the architecture of the nineteenth century, even 
 allowing for the rapid changes and advance of all the sciences at the 
 present day, cannot be expected to reach its full development in our 
 time, but the future of that style, the Victorian style, as it is already 
 named, is assured, and requires only time and opportunity, we believe, 
 to be carried out to a most successful issuyf The best artists in the 
 architectural profession are not to be found in the ranks of those who 
 are bigoted to any peculiar style. Catholicism in its true sense—that 
 of universality—is thoroughly opposed to the narrow and obstructive 
 prejudices of those unprofessional writers, who evince more mastery of 
 language and power of vituperation than knowledge of the subject on 
 which they would fain be considered Sir Oracles, whilst the architects 
 who practise what those writers preach form but a small minority— 
 the “ Dii minores ” of their own cliques. These do well enough for 
 their day and their purpose; but over and beyond these, the great 
 spirit of modern life, demanding constant and progressive change, 
 sweeps with electric power, infusing into all men’s minds one pervading 
 and grand idea, that of individual and original development. With 
 all due deference to the works of our predecessors, with all just admi¬ 
 ration for the styles of the past, our present object; the object of all 
 the professional leaders of our day, should be to consolidate and system¬ 
 atize the knowledge we are now in possession of, and from the lessons 
 thus obtained, and the examples thus given, to strike out a new path 
 for the powers of the architect as artist, and to bring back the art 
 itself to its normal state, which is one of gradual but sure progression, 
 founded on increasing scientific and artistic knowledge. ] We hold this 
 final result as inevitable. There are many styles of architecture yet 
 to be originated or developed in the world. What has happened in the 
 past will be reacted in the future. | There is no analogy in history that 
 could justify us in believing that this or that style of art having once 
 budded, flowered, and withered away, can relive its former life; it 
 may be reproduced, imitated, rehabilitated, but the spirit of true life 
 is wanting, for it in no way represents the great artistic tendencies of 
 the age.. 
 
 For different effects and different purposes, we require different styles : 
 the cloistered, chapel-indented, dim-lighted, lengthy cathedral of the 
 medieval Papal church can be of no service to the auditory of a Pro- 
 2 
 
 testant clergyman, and thus our fine old cathedrals are ruined by an 
 enclosure where the requirements of our service may be sensibly en¬ 
 acted. We have no hesitation in affirming that in no branch of archi¬ 
 tecture is greater reformation necessary than in the buildings dedicated 
 to the use of the Reformed church. Architecture we cannot call it. 
 There is no fact more strange, yet more true, than that the great revo¬ 
 lution of religious thought and practice in the sixteenth century pro¬ 
 duced no corresponding change in the buildings required by the 
 proselytes of the new church. They simply seem to have demolished 
 all that bore upon matters of creed, and having tumbled shrine, rood- 
 loft, and image out of doors, quietly sat down to hear the reformed 
 doctrine as best they might between bare walls, in unaccommodating 
 aisles. The introduction of the Italian style produced no change of 
 system, and the same interior, as much broken up with columns as 
 possible, so as to prevent people from hearing or seeing conveniently, 
 continued in vogue, even up to this day, with the exception of the 
 places of worship built by Dissenters. This senseless and utterly un¬ 
 suitable arrangement for a Protestant congregation holds sway. We 
 trust that our ecclesiastical architects do not delude themselves with 
 the idea that such a columnar arrangement is indispensable to the re¬ 
 quirements of the style they practise, for they may learn a valuable 
 lesson to the contrary, by visiting some of the mediaeval churches of 
 the South of France, especially those of the lower town at Carcassonne ; 
 but these are not the only anomalies in our modern system of eccle¬ 
 siastical architecture, which lead us to believe in its merely temporary 
 existence as a fashion, and the exponent of a transitory religious senti¬ 
 mentalism. 
 
 The tower in old times served not only as a place of refuge and 
 defence, but as a depository for those bells which not only called the 
 faithful far and wide to worship, but scared with their sacred sound all 
 demons and evil spirits from the holy precincts ; this was most seriously 
 believed in, and to effect such a very desirable result, we would put up 
 with a good deal, but no such pretext would be brought forward at 
 this day for a noisy peal of bells, and in this age of clocks and 
 watches, there is really no excuse for thus annoying all who are un¬ 
 fortunate enough to live near a church. The spire, moreover, then 
 rose not only beacon-like, but bond fide a beacon to the neighbourhood 
 and to wayfarers, but such a purpose in our cities is out of the ques¬ 
 tion, and it must be admitted that these very picturesque adjuncts to 
 the modern mediaeval church are merely placed there at great expense 
 to please a sentiment, and not to satisfy a want. 
 
 One of the great requirements of the day is to cover large areas, at 
 the most moderate cost, and probably for a temporary purpose only. 
 This problem has been satisfactorily solved in the numerous magnificent 
 railwa}- stations of Europe, amongst which that of Munich, for origin¬ 
 ality of design, beauty of proportion and decoration, stands, we think, 
 pre-eminent. The applicability of this principle, combined with the 
 plan of a conservatory, led, some ten years since, to the design of our 
 own Crystal Palace, when a new style of Architecture, as remarkable 
 as any of its predecessors, may be considered to have been inaugurated. 
 We consider that iron and glass in conjunction have succeeded in 
 giving a distinct and marked character to the future practice of archi¬ 
 tecture. 
 
 Sydenham was a great step forward, and the building at South Ken¬ 
 sington, in the hands of any architect of knowledge and taste, would 
 no doubt have shown a still greater advance. Unfortunately, a genius 
 for producing downright ugliness in place of beauty has presided there, 
 and though a great principle is carried out—namely, the combination 
 of brickwork with iron and glass—yet the result is retrograde rather 
 than progressive, as regards the development of our new resources; but 
 other examples are not wanting to show the valuable results we may 
 expect from the future. The Cattle Market at Islington, the Exhibi¬ 
 tion building and new markets at Paris, and the new market at 
 Poitiers, point out what admirable results may yet be looked forward to. 
 
 Moreover, it is not only in the development of these novel resources 
 placed at our disposal, but in the dealing with old-established styles, 
 that we perceive evident tendencies to improvement, or at least change. 
 Puginism is already out of date. The most popular of our rising 
 architects in the medieval style, are those who evince most boldness in 
 deviating from ancient models. Every phase of the style has been 
 taken up, and seems to have been set aside as unsatisfactory. Late 
 Tudor was first in the field, but speedily gave way to the better pro¬ 
 portions and ornament of the Decorated period. We are now going 
 back further still. There is no abiding resting-place to be found for 
 the aspiring medievalist; everything now must be very early and pure 
 pointed; there was no real art, it is now confessed, out of this, the 
 
 I 
 
58 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 truly classic period of the style; but we who have marked the changes 
 in this school, smile as the enthusiastic admirer vows eternal admiration 
 to the present object of his love, and treats with scorn the degraded 
 idols of his professional brethren not half a century since. 
 
 How long will this devotion to the Early Pointed style last ? Satiety 
 will come at last, and the next fashion, we doubt not, will be of Ro¬ 
 manesque or Byzantine character; the auburn, not to say red-haired 
 maidens of the North, with their sentimental blue eyes, being displaced 
 by the raven hair and languishing dark orbs of the daughters of the 
 South and the East. 
 
 If we turn to the latest development of the Renaissance style, we 
 also perceive great change. It is not the Renaissance of France, the 
 “ Quattro Cento ” of Italy, or the Plateresque of Spain. There is an 
 evident straining after originality, and sometimes with very good 
 effect. Look where we will, there is no slavish imitation of any 
 former style: each one in his way endeavours to give an individual 
 character to the style he takes up; and even Italian, that Italian style 
 so severely hemmed in, “ cribbed, cabined, and confined” by the rules of 
 Palladios, Vignolas, and Chamberses, looking to the glorious example set 
 by Wren, may hope for a development suited to the requirements and 
 tastes of the day. But we do not wish to peer presumptuously into 
 the future. Styles still unthought of, yet to be, will, we doubt not, 
 arise and progress in slow and stately course through centuries to come, 
 as they have already done in centuries past. Enough for us, if we 
 can perceive, and accept as fraught with earnest of future advancement, 
 the changes, developments, and individual character of the works of 
 the age in which we live, and hail as full oT*promise the numerous 
 designs transformed into bodily shape throughout the United King¬ 
 dom during the reign of Victoria. A 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL ORNAMENT. 
 
 What is the place for ornament? Consider first that the characters 
 of natural objects which the architect can represent are few and ab¬ 
 stract. The greater part of those delights by which nature recommends 
 herself to man at all times, cannot be conveyed by him into his imita¬ 
 tive work. He cannot make his grass green and cool and good to rest 
 upon, which in nature is its chief use to man; nor can he make 
 his flowers tender and full of colour and of scent, which in nature are 
 the chief powers of giving joy. Those qualities which alone he can 
 secure are certain severe characters of form, such as men only see in 
 nature on deliberate examination, and by the full and set appliance of 
 sight and thought; a man must lie down on the bank of grass on his 
 own breast, and set himself to watch and penetrate the entwining of it, 
 before he finds that which is good to be gathered by the architect. So, 
 then, while nature is at all times pleasant to us, and while the sight 
 and sense of her work may mingle happily with all our thoughts and 
 labours and times of existence, that image of her which the architect 
 carries away represents- what we can only perceive in her by direct in¬ 
 tellectual exertion of a similar kind in order to understand it and feel 
 it. It is the written or sealed impression of the thing sought out; it 
 is the shaped result of inquiry and bodily expression of thought. 
 
 Let us consider for an instant what would be the effect of continually 
 repeating an expression of a beautiful thought to any other of the 
 senses at times when the mind could not address that sense to the un¬ 
 derstanding ot it. Suppose that in time of serious occupation, of 
 stern business, a companion should repeat in our ears continually some 
 favourite passage of poetry, over and over again all day long. We 
 should not only soon be utterly sick and weary of the sound of it, but 
 that sound would at the end of the day have so sunk into the habit of 
 the ear, that the entire meaning of the passage would be dead to us, 
 and it would ever thenceforth require some effort to fix and recover it! 
 The music of it would not meanwhile have aided the business in hand 
 while its own delightfulness would thenceforward be in a measure 
 destroyed. It is the same with every other form of definite thought. 
 If you violently present its expression to the senses at times when°the 
 mind is otherwise engaged, that expression will be ineffective at the 
 time, and will have its sharpness and clearness destroyed for ever. 
 Much more if you present it to the mind at times when it is painfully 
 affected or disturbed, or if you associate the expression of pleasant 
 thought with incongruous circumstances, you will affect that expression 
 thenceforward with a painful colour for ever. 
 
 A Pl ,, y this to expressions of thought received by the eye. Remem¬ 
 ber that the eye is at your mercy more than the ear. “ The eye it 
 
 cannot choose but see.” Its nerve is not so easily numbed as that of 
 the ear, and it is often busied in tracing and watching forms when the 
 ear is at rest. Now if you present lovely forms to it when it cannot 
 call the mind to help it in its work, and among objects of vulgar use 
 and unhappy position, you will neither please the eye nor elevate the 
 vulgar object. But you will fill and weary the eye with the beautiful 
 form, and you will infect that form itself with the vulgarity of the 
 thing to which you have violently attached it. It will never be of 
 much use to you any more; you have killed or defiled it; its freshness 
 and purity are gone. You have to pass it through the fire of much 
 thought before you will cleanse it, and warm it with much love before 
 it will revive. 
 
 ^ __ . Ruskin. 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF THE ARCH. 
 
 BY SIB J. J. WILKINSON. 
 
 The origin of the arch may be ascribed to the scarcity of wood fit for 
 rafters ; and the want of timber trees in Egypt, together with the 
 habit of building with crude bricks, taxed the ingenuity of man to 
 devise a method of constructing roofs with the same material as the 
 walls. Similar instances of the influence of materials are not un¬ 
 common. The peculiar fracture of certain kinds of stone led to 
 polygonal masonry, and the groined arches of Gothic churches, the 
 round towers of brick or of flint, and other peculiarities of construction, 
 have been indebted to materials for their principle and form. Bricks, 
 therefore, being called upon to complete the whole chamber, suggested 
 the vaulted roof; and the size of some Egyptian bricks, nearly one 
 foot and a half long, eight inches broad, and five and a half inches 
 thick, was a saving of labour to the construction. And in order to 
 spare as much of the arch as possible, they were placed lengthways ; 
 the ends of the bricks being cut into a wedge shape, or the space left 
 between their upper edges being filled in by a triangular piece of stone 
 imbedded in the mud that served for mortar. Either of these methods 
 made up for the curve of the arch, and enabled the bricks to radiate 
 to a common centre, on which, and not on the keystone, the principle 
 of an arch depends, for many arches, both round and pointed, have 
 been built in modern ages without a keystone. 
 
 They afterwards improved upon their mode of placing the bricks, 
 and arranged them side by side, as in modern buildings; and some of 
 the double concentric arches over the gateways before the Tomb of 
 Thebes are as beautifully constructed as those of Roman or of modern 
 times. They are of the age of Psammetichus and the other kings of 
 the twenty-sixth dynasty, about COO before our era. But many 
 well-built arches were made on the old principle to a late time, and 
 consisted of three or four concentric rows of bricks placed lengthways, 
 with a sort of hood or tripstoue projecting beyond the level of the 
 wall and the face of the archibolt. 
 
 The oldest stone arches hitherto found in Egypt are of the same 
 date, or about COO b.c. ; all those of earlier times being false arches 
 cut in the thickness of the overlapping stones—a mode of construction 
 common also in Italy and other countries at a remote age. When 
 they first began to use stone for i-eal arches is uncertain, but it was 
 evidently brick that first led to the invention. And it is a curious 
 fact, that those stone arches at the pyramids of Gebel Berkel, in 
 Ethiopia, imitate the old system, the blocks being placed lengthways, 
 like the bricks of the earliest Egyptian vaults. 
 
 To bricks, indeed, various styles of building were indebted for their 
 origin; they exerted very great influence on massy kinds of archi¬ 
 tecture, and they were the earliest improvement on that primitive 
 mode of construction—the mud wall. 
 
 The Egyptians seem at first to be afraid of roofing large spaces with 
 the arch, and their vaulted tombs are seldom more than seven or ten 
 feet in breadth, until the time of the twenty-sixth dynasty. 
 
 The same remark applies to the early pointed arches built by the 
 Christians in Egypt, dating about the seventh century, which are 
 seldom more than two and a half feet in span. They were only used 
 for covering narrow spaces, as staircases or niches, and were formed of 
 bricks placed lengthways, as in the earliest round arches. The two 
 uppermost bricks usually met together in the centre, the key being 
 formed of a triangular piece of stone or brick; and a still ruder kind 
 of arch consisted of three bricks, with the centre one placed hori¬ 
 zontally between the other two. 
 
 But the pointed arch was not devised in order to cover small spaces, 
 nor (as some have thought) because there was not room enough for 
 placing a small round one on the same level with those of larger span, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 59 
 
 as this difficulty is more readily removed by the stilted round arch 
 than by inventing a new one. Much less did it originate in the inter¬ 
 section of two round Norman arches, or in groined vaults, both which 
 were unknown till long after the pointed arch had been commonly 
 used in the East. A whole mosque still remains at Caix-o, built by 
 Sultan Ahmed-ben-Tooloon, a.d. 879. The cufio inscriptions on the 
 Nilometer of Itoda, opposite old Cairo, show from their style that its 
 pointed arches are of a similarly remote period; and there is reason 
 to believe that this kind of arch was used by the Arabs long before. 
 It is also found covering one of the chambers before an Ethiopian 
 pyramid of Gebel Berkel, built while the Romans were in Egypt. 
 There is one of the keystones over a passage at Tusculum at least as 
 old as the days of the Latin confederation; another at Pompeii, and 
 at Zindan, and at Ephesus ; and future discoverers will doubtless prove 
 that it was employed in the East and used by the Saracens. 
 
 The arch seems to have been considered by the Egyptians particu¬ 
 larly appropriate for the tomb; even the ceilings of many hewn in 
 the rock were cut in imitation of it, as at Beni Hassen; and some of 
 the oldest sepulchral chambers in the Great Pyramid had that peculiar 
 mode of construction, which was the precursor of the arch in Egypt 
 and other countries—a pointed or pent roof, formed by two sets of 
 stones inclined towards each other. 
 
 THE ARCHITECTURAL EXHIBITION. 
 
 By G. R. Bubnell, Esq. 
 
 Thebe must be something anomalous in the position which archi¬ 
 tecture holds in public estimation, when a large number of the followers 
 of that art feel themselves so badly treated at the ordinary exhibitions 
 of the season, as to render it advisable for them to organize an exhi¬ 
 bition of their own. It is indeed a fact, at the present day, in our 
 country at least, that architecture—literally the chief art—which in 
 former times directed and controlled the employment of the other arts, 
 is now hardly regarded as one of them, but rather as a species of trade 
 but little removed from the ranks of a handicraft. It is true, that in 
 the Royal Academy there are some members connected with archi¬ 
 tecture ; and that a species of recognition of its claims to rank amongst 
 the fine arts may be discovered in the existence of the professors’ 
 chairs for the purpose of instruction in its principles. But this seems 
 only to be a “ lip homageand, certainly, in the annual exhibitions a 
 small space is awarded to the architectural drawings, and less attention 
 is paid to them, either by artists or by the public, than is paid even to 
 the unrecognised productions of engravers. Painting and sculpture, 
 formerly the handmaids of architecture, have in fact dethroned their 
 former ruler, and they occupy the space in public estimation which was 
 formerly conceded to the principles of construction. The explanation 
 of this phenomenon is not easy, or at least it cannot be given in a few 
 words, and therefore it may be passed over for the present; but the 
 subject is one which architects would do wisely to reflect upon, in order 
 to discover the means of raising their profession from its present depressed 
 state to the rank it is justly entitled to hold. In the meantime, the 
 existence of a distinct architectural exhibition seems to us to indicate 
 the perception by the body of architects of the necessity for some 
 decided action on their part to reassert their claims to a due recog¬ 
 nition of their position as artists; the manner in which they have 
 attempted the execution of the desired object is, however, unfortunately 
 very inferior to the magnitude, or the importance, of the design they 
 seem to have conceived. 
 
 For in the back rooms of the basement of a second-rate house in a 
 second-rate street are huddled together the designs, studies, and sketches 
 of the men who are supposed to represent the architectural taste of the 
 day; and the “premiated” (as the neologists persist in calling the “prize”) 
 designs of recent public competitions, and of the competitors for the In¬ 
 stitute medals or other rewards, are grouped together with an incongruous 
 mixture of clerical robes, church furniture, building materials, and 
 engineering models. Alas ! if the directors of this exhibition may be 
 taken as exponents of the intellectual power or of the organizing capacity 
 of the leaders of the architectural profession in England, there can be 
 little reason to be surprised at the position they hold in the public 
 estimation; for it would be difficult to imagine a more unsatisfactory 
 or a more incomplete representation of the state of art than is here to 
 be found. And the objection applies nearly as much to the quality of 
 the designs, as it does to the manner of their arrangement; to the 
 equivocal direction of the taste of the present school of architecture, as 
 much as to the want of some sound comprehensive principle amongst 
 
 those who are supposed to influence its development. It is not enough 
 to provide wall-space in an exhibition to assist architects in regaining 
 their proper position in public estimation; but it is necessary to 
 guide and instruct, to raise the tone of artistic feeling, to correct false 
 doctrines, to encourage originality whilst inculcating a love of study, 
 and a respect for the traditional teachings of those great masters “ who 
 being dead yet speak.” Nothing of this seems to have been done by 
 the managers of the present show; and it therefore is a mere lifeless, 
 aimless assemblage of objects utterly without influence upon the future 
 progress of the art. Strangely enough, too, the tendencies of an ex¬ 
 clusive sect amongst architectural professors appear to have been 
 paramount in the selection of the objects exposed on the walls of the 
 Conduit-street basement; and it seems that one remarkable form of 
 architecture meets with but little favour from the men who, putting 
 themselves forward as encouragers of art, should encourage the most 
 catholic treatment of its manifestation. In fact, neither the manner 
 in which this exhibition is arranged, nor the principles on which it has 
 been conducted, seem to us to be of a nature to advance the true 
 interests of architects or of architecture. It will be necessary to return 
 to this subject—viz., that of the best means of advancing the study of 
 architecture—hereafter; at present, attention will be principally 
 directed to the objects which are to be met with in the Exhibition. 
 
 In the first place we may remark that notwithstanding our previous 
 observations, one cheering sign of the times is to be found in the 
 marked improvement perceptible in the style of drawing pi-evalent 
 amongst the younger members of the profession, for there are amongst 
 both the water-colour and the pen-and-ink drawings many works of 
 remarkable merit, solely on the score of the excellence of their mecha¬ 
 nical execution. This earnest, conscientious attention to the working 
 details of their profession, must have an influence upon the modes of 
 thought of our rising artists, for no man of intelligence can dwell long 
 upon a single subject without fixing his whole soul upon it, and more¬ 
 over it is to be observed that the architects who have produced the 
 most remarkable works of modern times, have also been the best 
 draughtsmen of their day. Indeed, the architect has more need of a 
 profound knowledge of the laws of chiaro-oscuro, of harmony of colour, 
 and of perspective effects, than the professors of the other arts of de¬ 
 sign, because it is his duty to prepare his works for their subsequent 
 operations, whereas the other artists have but to appropriate the results 
 of his studies. No really good architecture can be designed without a 
 study of its optical effects, both with regard to those connected with 
 perspective and skiography; and much of the tameness of the works of 
 the last generation may be attributed to the neglect of the pictorial 
 treatment of the designs which then prevailed. The elevations, some 
 “ sixty years since,” were only drawn geometrically (mostly in outline), 
 and when attempts at shading were introduced, they were executed in 
 Indian-ink ; under such circumstances it cannot be a matter of surprise 
 that the buildings erected from them were cold and destitute of move¬ 
 ment ; and for these reasons the attention paid by the body of archi¬ 
 tects at the present day to mere drawing, must be hailed as one of the 
 healthy indications of the spirit abroad. 
 
 Amongst the drawings themselves, attention may be called to 
 Nos. 7 and 8, by Mr. E. \V. Godwin, of the designs for the Hull and 
 the Nsrt]iampton. Town-halls, the latter of which was selected by the 
 municipality of that town in opposition to the recommendation of the 
 professional referee, who gave the preference to No. 185, by Mr. L. 
 de Ville. Mr. Godwin, however, seems to have a decided affection for 
 canopies and figures, whose only use is to fritter the surfaces of his 
 elevations, and to be fond of introducing towers of doubtful utility and 
 inelegant outlines; but there is the true romantic feeling about his 
 compositions, and a keen perception of pictorial effect in his treatment 
 of detail. The design for the Godolphin School, Hammersmith (15), 
 has merit, though defective in some respects ; but the drawing No. 20, 
 by Mr. Whichcord, requires rather more extended notice, precisely on 
 account of its defects, emanating as they do from so distinguished an 
 artist. Mr. Whichcord has designed the offices here represented upon 
 the principles Mr. Fergusson supposes to guide the first attempts to 
 combine construction and artistic treatment, for the composition con¬ 
 sists, in fact, of a series of vertical piers, supporting horizontal bands, 
 and crowned by semicircular arches. Now, this arrangement produces 
 a very disagreeable effect; for in the first place the great height of the 
 piers destroys every idea of proportion; then the horizontal bands 
 (in a town where brickwork is almost exclusively used) suggest the 
 idea of false construction; and lastly, the introduction of the arches at 
 the top looks very much like unsafe construction, for the arches, in 
 fact, have always an outward thrust, which would tend to overthrow 
 
 i 2 
 
60 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 the tall piers, unless it were counteracted by some arrangement which 
 is not visible in the design. This or analogous defects in the logical 
 character of architectural compositions, may be observed in some of 
 the other drawings exposed, as in No. 50, by Mr. Edmeston ; for in 
 the Warehouse here shown, there are straight stone lintels over the 
 windows, strong enough to carry the superincumbent weight, but with 
 heavily marked discharging arches over them on the ground floor; on 
 the first and second floors there are segmental arches over the win¬ 
 dows, whilst on the third and fourth there are pointed arches in the 
 absurd style used in Florence—viz., deeper at the key than at the 
 springing. These constructive errors cannot be pleasing to properly- 
 educated eyes, for anything in opposition to constructive truth must 
 be out of harmony, and architects especially must remember that 
 
 Xe gout n’est rien qu’un bon sens delicat, 
 
 Et le gdnie est la raison sublime!—C henier. 
 
 The designs under 24 and 30, by Mr. E. B. Lamb, are free from 
 this accusation, and are in good taste, because appropriate to the pur¬ 
 poses the buildings are intended to fulfil, and combining correct pro¬ 
 portions with rather massive grouping of details. As to the rather 
 conspicuous designs, 72, 73, by Mr. C. J. Phipps; 85, by Messrs. 
 Francis; 86, by Mr. C. H. Smith, little else can be said than that it 
 is fortunate that none of them have been executed; and as to 91, it 
 may be said of it that it has solved the very difficult problem of sug¬ 
 gesting something positively uglier than the actual “ Puff Palace” at 
 Brompton. Mr. Smalman Smith has, in fact, in 91 given a specimen 
 of what may be called engineer’s taste, of which other examples are 
 to be found in 101, 107,141, and 239; and from them it may perhaps 
 be inferred, that engineers err quite as much in confining their atten¬ 
 tion to the scientific branch of the architectural profession, as modern 
 architects do in confining themselves to the more purely aesthetical 
 portions. 
 
 Mr. J. P. Jones has some clever designs, grouped under 114; Mr. 
 Horace Field’s design (140), for the proposed terrace at Bayswater, 
 has much merit, without however solving the difficulty in treating the 
 entrance doors, the dining-room windows on the ground floors, and the 
 openings on the first floors of ordinary London houses, in anything 
 like an architecturally correct manner. Mr. Field has, in this part of 
 his elevation, sacrificed the internal comfort of his drawing-room floor 
 to the observance of the principle of bringing his openings one over the 
 other; and has thus left a blank pier in the middle (or nearly the 
 middle) of the room, but it is so hard to treat a narrow elevation to 
 houses, planned as modern English houses are in almost all eases, that 
 Mr. Field deserves great credit for what he actually has effected. 
 The drawing (185), by Mr. De Ville, to which allusion has already been 
 made, is remarkably clever, both as a mere drawing and as a design, 
 and in its style superior to Mr. Godwin’s selected one; but the 
 correct harmony of its proportions would hardly strike uneducated 
 eyes, or those of men who are only accustomed to find beauty in the 
 productions of the romantic school. In the end, however, we believe 
 that the classical style, modified to suit our climate and the building 
 materials at the disposal of English architects, will prevail over the 
 present fashion for medievalism, and therefore we urge Mr. De Ville 
 to continue his present course, notwithstanding the decision of the 
 Northampton Town Council. The designs prepared by Messrs. Green 
 and De Ville for the proposed Palais de Justice, Brussels (205, 210, and 
 225), have great merit, though perhaps they are deficient in this re¬ 
 spect, that they have no distinctly marked centre, nothing, in fact, to 
 prevent the eye from wandering over the whole surface of the eleva¬ 
 tion—a defect, by the way, likely to be exaggerated in execution on 
 account of the perspective effects which must be produced by the nature 
 of the ground. Mr. W. J. Green’s design for some proposed improve¬ 
 ments at Bath, is clever (228 and 237); ancLso is Mr. Shout’s drawing 
 (259) of the Manor House at Brympton. The drawings by E. W. 
 Pugin, of St. Dominic’s Church, Washington City (258a and 259a), are 
 really wonderful, and would repay the most patient study by lovers of 
 mediaeval architecture^ Mr. Knightl ey’s (275) design of the Church 
 of St. Mary’s, Bethnal-green, is well worthy of notice, even after 
 dwelling upon that of St. Dominic; and dispersed through the rooms 
 there are a number of other designs of considerable merit, but which 
 did not appear to us to present sufficient originality to merit detailed 
 or special notice. For our own parts, we regret that the tendency of 
 modern architecture, as indicated by this Exhibition, should be so 
 decidedly in the direction of the romantic school, or, in other words, 
 of mediaevalism, as it evidently is. Many reasons, moral and meta¬ 
 physical, might be urged against this tendency, which would be out of 
 place here; but the most cogent of them may be considered to consist 
 
 in the indefinite and dreamy character it impresses upon artistic pro¬ 
 ductions, and in the substitution of appeals to the sentiments of men 
 rather than to their educated reason. Nevertheless, the class of sen¬ 
 timents mediaeval art appeals to is so essential a part of man’s moral 
 constitution, that it cannot be passed aside in any general collection 
 of the artistic manifestations of the human soul; the real subject of 
 regret is, that it should be so exclusively cultivated to the prejudice of 
 classic art, the type of reflective reason. 
 
 In the Architectural Exhibition there are, in addition to the original 
 designs, a great number of studies and sketches of existing monu¬ 
 ments, to which the attention of the public, and of students in par¬ 
 ticular, may be well directed. Mr. I’Anson has, under 25 and 147, 
 some free bold sketches of continental antiquities; so has Mr. Spiers 
 under 45, and Mr. Thomson under 87; and the sketches by Mr. 
 Vaughan, the Soane Medallion student of the R.I.B. Architects, 229 
 to 236, are characterized by an amount of study and a perception of 
 the characteristic beauties of the objects represented, highly creditable 
 to their author. There are also in the Exhibition severaLpljqtographs, 
 of new and old buildings, of merit; but photography is so little oFTh 
 art process, as it is generally practised, that'the propriety of'allowing 
 it to appear here may fairly be questioned. Bedford’s and Fenton’s archi¬ 
 tectural photography are the only ones able to furnish subjects for an 
 architect’s studies, and neither of them is represented in this Exhi¬ 
 bition. There are some large cartoons of stained glass windows 
 exhibited under 155, by Mr. Gibbs, characterized by a ridiculous affec¬ 
 tation of Archaism ; and some studies of coloured glass by Mr. Seddon, 
 which certainly do not give much reason for regretting the loss of 
 much of this class of monuments. The church furniture, clerical robes, 
 &c., are “ well enough in their way,” but unworthy of special notice 
 here. The only remarkable thing connected with them is that they 
 have been admitted within the walls of the Exhibition. 
 
 The collection of building materials interspersed through the assem¬ 
 blage of drawings is of a very inferior nature, and resembles much 
 rather an advertising assortment than a selection of the new materials 
 and processes introduced within the last twelvemonths. Thus, the 
 Martin’s cement is a material which has been known for years, and 
 should only have been admitted in a collection of marble cements and 
 stuccos; Ransome’s patent stone is not represented in its newest form; 
 Tisson’s Suffolk bricks and tiles are not novelties; Bunnett and Co. 
 have only sent their ordinary forms of metallic shutters, &c.; the zinc 
 works exhibited by Mr. Tylor and Charles Devaux, the bankers, agents 
 of the Vieille Montagne Company, neither elucidate the use of that 
 metal, nor do they indicate the methods of obviating the objections to 
 its application in London for external works. The Keynsham Blue 
 Lias Lime Company (on the direction of which we are sorry to see the 
 names of some professional men who ought to have kept entirely aloof 
 from trade, in order to maintain their independence) has sent some 
 samples of lime and cements, which certainly, as samples, look very well; 
 but we suspect that it would be impossible to obtain from any natural 
 argillo-calcareous beds materials of anything like equable composition, 
 especially in the blue lias formation. As to Captain Scott’s cement, it is 
 (if we may judge by the specification of the patent) nothing but an 
 under-burnt lime, which Vicat showed, nearly thirty years since, to 
 possess the property of setting rapidly; but it is to be feared that the 
 cementing materials thus obtained would not be permanent in certain 
 positions—as, for instance, in sea-water. Bodmer’s stone bricks seem 
 to us to differ very little from the compressed beton of Co ignet,. 
 samples of which are to be found in “ Puff Palace;” and Georgi, and 
 'Bellman and Ivers, exhibit specimens of the same descriptions of work 
 they have sent to the same show. Maw’s tiles, and Arrowsmith’s 
 parquet floors, are also better represented at Brompton than in the 
 Architectural Exhibition. As to the sash hangings and fastenings, 
 the locks and bolts, the water-closet pans, &c., we only come to the 
 conclusion, “ that the things themselves are neither rich nor rare, 
 but we wonder how the devil they got there.” “ Non ragionam di 
 lor : ma guarda, e passa.” If all reports be correct (viz., that materials 
 are only admitted into this Exhibition on payment of a certain rent), 
 it cannot be matter of surprise that the best inventions should not be 
 represented; and we should, for our own parts, bitterly regret to find 
 that the reports were true. The organizers of an Architectural Exhi¬ 
 bition should not convert it into a species of commercial speculation— 
 a bad copy of the International Puff Palace. For some reason or 
 other this is the character of the collection of building materials in this 
 Conduit-street Exhibition. 
 
 Fortune gives too much to many, enough to none.— Martial. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 61 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 CONSTRUCTION OF COTTAGES * 
 
 Books upon, and designs for, cottages are so numerous, that a collec¬ 
 tion of them might be made to fill a library of no insignificant dimen¬ 
 sions. Every juvenile architect trys his strength in the vain endeavour 
 to combine the several conditions held to be indispensable for these 
 productions. He might, with an equal chance of success, waste his 
 energies in attempts to square the circle or to construct a machine for 
 perpetual motion. The problem is, to erect dwellings for the poorest 
 classes which shall be healthy, convenient, ornamental, and at so low 
 a cost as to pay a good interest for the capital expended upon them. 
 It is seldom that the obvious question, “ Are all these conditions in¬ 
 dispensable P” is ashed or regarded. People want to find a method of 
 being benevolent without cost, to gratify a fastidious taste, and make 
 money by it. This wont do. If it is required to please the eye and 
 gratify the fancy in the erection of cottages, it is no more likely to 
 pay, nor is it more reasonable to expect pecuniary profit from such a 
 proceeding, than from laying out lawns or planting shrubberies. It is 
 never a question whether these will pay a good per centage on the 
 capital expended on them. 
 
 When a rich proprietor, having a taste for ornamental landscape, 
 thinks the addition of a cottage or two will aid the effect of the trees 
 and shrubs, or when he would mark his taste by having a pretty cottage 
 at his park gates, he must be content to pay for this indulgence. 
 
 Were the problem reduced to its simplest form, and the only con¬ 
 dition—namely, to provide the poor with suitable and decent lodgings, 
 it may he, and is, in a thousand instances, done in a paying form. 
 Repudiating all ornamentation, and taking materials at hand in almost 
 any locality which can be selected in the British Islands, cottages can 
 he produced for so small a cost as to enable the poorest labourer to 
 pay a rent sufficient to meet a fair interest on the money expended. 
 If a moderate benevolence is introduced as an element, we venture to 
 say there need be no lack of habitations for the agricultural labourers 
 anywhere. 
 
 The moral aspect of the subject is much dwelt on. Slated roofs, 
 coloured bricks, or chiselled stone are by no means necessary to this. 
 To furnish the labourer with all that is needed to preserve the decencies 
 of life, and to encourage a commendable pride in neatness and comfort, 
 are a small room, well warmed and ventilated, a smaller kitchen for 
 conducting culinary operations, washing, and to store his gardening 
 tools. Three bedrooms—one for the parents, and the others to separate 
 the boys and girls. To these Lord Palmerston would add a small 
 porch, and the addition is obviously very desirable. Now, it appears 
 to us to be of little importance of what material the walls and roof are 
 constructed, provided they are perfectly weather-proof; the chimneys 
 large, and every room should have one, as the most effectual means of 
 ventilation, with a few iron bars to form a cheap fire-place, and a good- 
 sized window for that indispensable element of health and comfort— 
 light. Water supply and drainage, of course, are supposed to be well 
 cared for. 
 
 Assuming the case of the lowest wages earned by the labourer, he 
 ought to be able to pay Is. 6d. per week for such a dwelling, or 
 31. 18s. per annum. Such a cottage as we contemplate may be erected 
 in most places, taking only the cost of material and labour, and allowing 
 nothing for architect’s fees or master-builder’s profits, for from 25 1. to 
 35 l. The latter item of cost, when necessarily incurred, should be 
 debited to benevolence. A few rods of ground, and the fencing added, 
 and the rent we have supposed will pay enough. We venture to say 
 that the employer of a well-housed labourer will find another and a 
 better source of profit in the strength and endurance of work given to 
 his service. 
 
 But it may be asked, is it fair or right to calculate on thus ex¬ 
 cluding the builder and architect ? We think, in this particular de¬ 
 partment of building, they can afford to forego their profits. If the 
 lowest of our poor were comfortably lodged, the class immediately 
 above them, the skilled artisans and small tradesmen, would be excited 
 to emulation, and would be satisfied with nothing less than architec¬ 
 tural skill and workmanship requiring the master-builder. No one 
 acquainted with our villages will deny the wideness of the scope this 
 would open for both. Indeed, we are not sure whether the dwellings 
 of the classes which are incomparably better off than agricultural 
 
 * Country Cottages: a Series of Designs for an Improved Class of Dwellings 
 for Aaricultural Labourers. By John Vincent, Architect. London: E. and 
 F. N.'Spon. 
 
 labourers, are not in as much need of improvement as theirs. For a 
 long period taxes on every kind of material entering into the construc¬ 
 tion of houses, and even on the admission of light, repressed all im¬ 
 provement, and forbade the adoption of the principles derived from a 
 more just appreciation of the laws and conditions of health. These, 
 indeed, are by no means yet popularly recognised. But the freedom 
 from taxation we now enjoy in respect to dwellings, the awaking atten¬ 
 tion to sanitary measures, and the general prevalence of some de¬ 
 gree of aesthetic culture, seem to provide a splendid future to the 
 architect. 
 
 We purpose to return to these subjects, and particularly to justify 
 by details our assertions respecting the question of the lowest order of 
 cottages. 
 
 Mr. Vincent’s books and designs are creditable to his taste and skill. 
 Whilst we admire his cottages, we cannot help doubting his estimates 
 of cost. They are well adapted to the better classes—skilled artisans, 
 small tradesmen, or to serve as ornaments to the domains of the rich, 
 but we fear our commendations must end here. 
 
 STABLE ARCHITECTURE* 
 
 We are certainly obliged to Mr. Knightley for his elegant and elabo¬ 
 rate work, but must at the same time confess to a strong sense of 
 disappointment when rising from a perusal of it. The scale is too 
 large and the flight too high ever to be generally useful. He seldom 
 or never descends to the level even of the ordinary country gentleman, 
 much less to that of the cab or omnibus proprietor, and tradesman who 
 keeps only one or two horses. In the last plate of the engravings 
 (the twentieth), a plan of a two-stalled stable with loose-box and 
 coach-house is given; but with this single exception all the plans are 
 for large establishments, the model hunting-stable for eighteen horses, 
 in the twenty-fourth plate, being the smallest of the whole series. To 
 those noblemen or gentlemen who may be about to build either racing 
 or hunting stables or kennels, we can strongly recommend Mr. 
 Knightley’s work, more especially as it gives excellent examples of 
 some of those already in existence, including the stables of the Duke 
 of Bedford and Baron Rothschild at Newmarket, and the Earl Fitz- 
 william’s at Wentworth, which may be safely followed, whilst the 
 errors committed at the Royal Stables at Chantilly may be taken, on 
 the other hand, as a warning. 
 
 The book is beautifully printed, and the engravings are highly 
 creditable to all the parties concerned in their production, and if the 
 author would only condescend to notice the fact that other people 
 besides noblemen and millionaires have horses that require good and 
 convenient stables, his work would be more generally useful and better 
 entitled to the commendation of those who have the control of literary 
 journals. 
 
 THOUGHTS, PRACTICAL AND PHILOSOPHIC. 
 
 Indian Aechitectuee. —It has been very usual, in writing of 
 Indian art, to compare it with the Egyptian, or even classical styles, 
 and to insist on resemblances and affinities which, I feel sure, a more 
 intimate knowledge of the subject would prove to be utterly ground¬ 
 less. For myself, I have passed from India to Egypt, and from Egypt 
 to India, and with my mind full of either style, and while its forms 
 were still fresh in my memory, tried in vain to detect the slightest 
 resemblance; which, however, I am convinced, does not exist, but that 
 the Indian styles, whatever their merits or defects may be, are at least 
 original, and have been elaborated in the country where we find them. 
 If any connexion with any foreign style does exist, it must not, I am 
 certain, be looked for beyond the seas, but must be traced through the 
 countries on the westward of the Indus into Persia, and the countries 
 of Central Asia; and I think it more than probable that we may there 
 find styles of art either borrowed from India, or to which that country 
 is indebted for many of its forms ; but the materials for attempting any 
 deductions from this train of reasoning are not yet available to the in¬ 
 quirer. Had the Indian armies, who occupied Afghanistan for some 
 years, possessed an officer capable of appreciating the value of such 
 inquiries, it would have been easy, from the details of the architecture 
 of the topes and other buildings in that country, to have ascertained, 
 at least, whether the inquiry would probably lead to any conclusive re- 
 
 * Stable Architecture. By Thomas Edward Knightley, F.R.I.B.A. London: 
 Bailey Brothers. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 62 
 
 suits; but the opportunity is lost, and it is not easy to foresee when it 
 may again occur. The researches of Mr. Masson, Dr. Honigberger, 
 and the Drench officers in Runjeet Sing’s service, show us that Indian 
 forms do extend at least to the confines of Persia; but neither their 
 opportunities nor means were equal to those at the command of our 
 officers, and their drawings, as hitherto published, are too imperfect to 
 form any satisfactory conclusion from.— Fergus son’s Architecture 
 of India. 
 
 The Philosophy of Plato and Bacon conteasted. —Sup¬ 
 pose that Justinian, when he closed the schools of Athens, had called 
 on the last few sages who still haunted the Portico, and lingered round 
 the ancient plane-trees, to show their title to public veneration. Sup¬ 
 pose that he had said—“ A thousand years have elapsed since, in this 
 famous city, Socrates posed Protagoras and Hippias; during those 
 thousand years a large proportion of the ablest men of every genera¬ 
 tion has been employed in constant efforts to bring to perfection the 
 philosophy which you teach ; that philosophy has been munificently 
 patronized by the powerful; its professors have been held in the highest 
 esteem by the public; it has drawn to itself nearly all the sap and 
 vigour of the human intellect; and what has it effected ? What pro¬ 
 fitable truth has it taught us, which we should not equally have known 
 without it ? What has it enabled us to do which we should not have 
 been equally able to do without it?” Such questions, we suspect, 
 would have puzzled Simplicius and Isidore. Ask a follower of Bacon 
 what the new philosophy, as it was called in the time of Charles II., 
 has effected for mankind, and his answer is ready—“ It has lengthened 
 life; it has mitigated pain; it has extinguished diseases; it has in¬ 
 creased the fertility of the soil; it has given new securities to the mariner; 
 it has furnished new arms to the warrior; it has spanned great rivers 
 and estuaries with bridges of form unknown to our fathers; it has 
 guided the thunderbolt innocuously from heaven to earth; it has 
 lighted up the night with the splendour of the day; it has extended 
 the range of the human vision; it has multiplied the power of the 
 human muscles; it has accelerated motion; it has annihilated dis¬ 
 tance ; it has facilitated intercourse, correspondence, all friendly offices, 
 all despatch of business ; it has enabled man to descend to the depths of 
 the sea, to soar into the air, to penetrate securely to the noxious re¬ 
 cesses of the earth, to traverse the land in cars which whirl along 
 without horses, and the ocean in ships which run ten knots an hour 
 against the wind. These are but a part of its fruits, and of its first 
 fruits. For it is a philosophy which never rests, which has never 
 attained, which is never perfect. Its law is progress. A point which 
 yesterday was invisible is its goal to-day, and will be its starting-post 
 to-morrow.”— Macaulay. 
 
 Theee Classes of Aetists. —Artists considered as searchers after 
 truth, are to be divided into three great classes—a right, a left, and 
 a centre. Those on the right perceive and pursue the good and leave the 
 evil; those in the centre, the greatest, perceive and pursue the good and 
 evil together, the whole thing as it verily is; those on the left perceive 
 and pursue the evil and leave the good. The first class, I say, take 
 the good and leave the evil. Out of whatever is presented to them, 
 they gather what it has of grace, and life, and light, and holiness, and 
 leave all, or at least as much as possible, of the rest undrawn. The 
 faces of their figures express no evil passions; the skies of their land¬ 
 scapes are without storm; the prevalent character of their colour is 
 brightness, and of their chiaroscuro fulness of light. The early Italian 
 and Ileinish painters, Angelico and Hemling, Perugino, Francia, 
 Raphael, in his best time, John Bellini, and our own Stothard, belong 
 eminently to this class. The second or greatest class render all that 
 they see in nature unhesitatingly, with a kind of divine grasp and 
 government of the whole, sympathizing with the good, and yet con¬ 
 fessing, permitting, and bringing good out of the evil also. Their sub¬ 
 ject is infinite as nature, their colour equally balanced between splendour 
 and sadness, reaching occasionally the highest degrees of both, and 
 their chiaroscuro equally balanced between light and shade. ' The 
 principal men of this class are Michael Angelo, Leonardo, Giotto, Tin- 
 toret, and Turner. Raphael, in his second time, Titian, and Rubens 
 are transitional; the first inclining to the eclectic, and the last to the 
 impure class; Raphael rarely giving all the evil, Titian and Rubens 
 rarely all the good. The last class perceive and imitate evil only. 
 They cannot draw the trunk of a tree without blasting and shattering 
 it, nor a sky except covered with stormy clouds; they delight in the 
 beggary and brutality of the human race; their colour is for the most 
 part subdued and lurid, and the greatest spaces of their pictures are 
 occupied by darkness. Happily, the examples of this class are seldom 
 seen in perfection. Salvator Rosa and Caravaggio are the most cha¬ 
 
 racteristic ; the other men belonging to it approach towards the central 
 rank by imperceptible gradations, as they perceive and represent more 
 and more of good. But Murillo, Zurbaran, Camillo, Procacinci, Rem¬ 
 brandt, and Teniers, all belong naturally to this lower class. 
 
 Good Advice. —Never build after you are five-and-forty; have 
 five years’ income in hand before you buy a brick; and always calcu¬ 
 late the expense at double the estimate.— Kelk. 
 
 The House. —Houses were built to live in more than to look at; 
 therefore let use he preferred before uniformity, except where both 
 may be had.— Loed Bacon. 
 
 Aechitectuee of Clothing. —Neither in tailoring nor in legis¬ 
 lating does man proceed by mere accident, but the hand is ever guided 
 by mysterious operations of the mind. In all his modes and habilatory 
 endeavours an architectural idea will he found lurking; his body and 
 the cloth are the site and materials wherein and whereby his beautified 
 edifice of a person is to be built, whether he flow gracefully out in 
 folded mantles, based on light sandals; tower up in high head-gear 
 from amidst peaks, spangles, and bell-girdles; swell out in starched 
 ruffs, buckram stuffings and monstrous tuberosities, or girth himself 
 into separate sections and front the world, an agglomeration of four 
 limbs, will depend on the nature of such architectural idea, whether 
 Grecian, Gothic, later Gothic, or altogether modern and Parisian, or 
 Anglo-Druidical. Again, what meaning lies in colour! From the 
 soberest drab to the liigh-flamiug scarlet, spiritual idiosyncrasies unfold 
 themselves in choice of colours; if the cut betoken intellect and talent, 
 so does the colour betoken temper and heart. In all which, amongst 
 nations as amongst individuals, there is an incessant, indubital, though 
 infinitely complex working of causes and effect. Every snip of the 
 scissors has been regulated and prescribed by ever-active influences, 
 which, doubtless, to intelligences of a superior order, are neither invi¬ 
 sible nor illegible.— Caelyle. 
 
 PATENTS CONNECTED WITH BUILDING. 
 
 Appaeatus foe Lighting. —J. E. M. de Pradonand L. G. Lecoq, 
 Paris. Dated 5th July, 1861.—The essentially new principle of this 
 improved apparatus, which is more especially applicable to lighting the 
 stage and house of theatres, is based on the application of the luminous 
 rays sent back by direct and indirect interior reflection into capacities 
 of the shape of pipes, allowing to conduct to the exterior the odours 
 and deleterious gases resulting from the employment of gas, and its 
 combustion, in buildings and places in which it is essential that the de¬ 
 leterious gases of combustion should be expelled into the open air. 
 And the invention consists in the employment of a pipe or conduit on 
 which the gas-burners are mounted; the whole being enclosed in a re¬ 
 flector, the interior of which will reflect the luminous rays and throw 
 them on a polished or unpolished glass. Screens of various colours are 
 placed at will in such a manner that the lighting can be obtained in 
 the tone required. 
 
 Wet Gas Metees. —W. Livesey, Park-village East, Middlesex. 
 Dated 29th June, 1861.—This invention has for its object to connect 
 the meter direct to the iron service-pipes, without the use of lead or 
 other flexible pipes or soldered joints; to regulate the opening and 
 closing of the inlet and outlet pipes simultaneously; to ascertain the 
 level of the water inside the meter without putting the meter out of 
 action ; to prevent the oscillation of the lights from any sudden increase 
 or irregularity in the pressure; to prevent any injurious effect upon 
 the registration from the meter being tilted or placed out of its level; 
 and to simplify the index. The invention cannot be described without 
 reference to the drawings. 
 
 Fiee-peoof Buildings. —H. C. Hill, Staleybridge, Lancashire. 
 Dated 17th August, 1861.—This invention consists in making the 
 beams, girders, columns, and other parts employed in the construction 
 of buildings, hollow, for the purpose of containing water or other 
 liquid; and in connecting these beams, girders, columns, and other 
 parts, so that the water or other liquid with which they are filled may 
 circulate therein or be renewed when required. By this means, in case 
 of fire in the building, the main supports can never become so hot as 
 to be injured or weakened by the results of heat. 
 
 Knapp’s Patent Pavement, Poultey. —As an experiment the 
 roadway in the Poultry is being laid with Knapp’s patent pavement, 
 which consists of hollow iron blocks, divided into small compartments, 
 filled up with concrete level with the surface. Four of these blocks 
 will make a square yard. On each side of the road, close to the edge 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 G3 
 
 of the footway, are being laid hollow cast-iron tram-plates, six feet in 
 length and eighteen inches broad, which are first filled with concrete, 
 and then turned over, leaving the indented iron face upwards, thus 
 forming solid tramways. To keep the paving level at each end, iron 
 girders eighteen feet nine inches in length will cross the roadway. Each 
 of the blocks are cast in the same mould, so that the whole of them, it 
 is said, will lock into each other, and form a solid mass of iron and 
 concrete of great strength and durability. The work commences at 
 the corner of Charlotte-row, Mansion-house, and extends about one 
 hundred yards westward from that point. 
 
 Conservatories, Orchard-houses, and other Horticultural 
 Erections. —J. Cranston, Birmingham. Dated 24th August, 1861. 
 —This invention applies to horticultural buildings to be constructed 
 of wood and glass, and also to erections for any other purposes in 
 which the same principle of construction is carried out; but, with the 
 use of iron, zinc, copper, tin, lead, or other suitable material in the 
 place of glass; all the buildings being pinned and screwed together, 
 and made to rest upon blocks of wood or butts of trees sunk in 
 the ground; so that they can be erected with great ease and are 
 portable. 
 
 Machinery for Dressing Slates. —C. E. Amos, Grove, South¬ 
 wark, and J. Francis, Penrhynn Slate Quarries, near Bangor. Dated 
 27th July, 1861.—This invention relates to a novel arrangement of 
 machinery whereby roofing slates may be cut, trimmed, or dressed to 
 the different sizes used for building purposes. The machine consists 
 of a rectangular frame, which may, if necessary, he mounted on wheels 
 for the convenience of transporting or removing the machine from one 
 locality to another. This frame is provided with a fixed knife, and 
 also suitable bearings for a lever or “ sword arm” which carries a 
 moveable knife. The “ sword arm” or lever is suspended by a spring 
 or springs; so that, when in a normal position, the moveable cutting 
 edge is raised above the lower knife edge, and the two edges resemble 
 a pair of open “ shears,” and act in the same manner. 
 
 Manufacture of Boxes, Cases, Tubes, Rings, &c.—J. R. 
 Black, Summer-place, Onslow-square, and H. W. Spratt, Walbrook- 
 buildings. Dated 6th July, 1861.—This invention consists in an im¬ 
 proved mode of constructing and manufacturing boxes, cases, tubes, 
 rings, and other suchlike articles (some of which have been usually 
 made of pasteboard or thin wood and paper), by moulding and forcibly 
 compressing into the form required pulp made from vegetable or animal 
 fibres, in conjunction with earthy matter, starch, size, gum, oil, gly¬ 
 cerine, resin, or other similar stiffening substance. The machinery 
 employed is of the following construction:—The patentees employ a 
 mould or die to receive the pulpy substance. They then employ one 
 or more plungers to mould and forcibly compress it into the form re¬ 
 quired. The mould or plunger is pierced so as to permit the air and 
 water to pass through it. 
 
 Veneering Presses. —C. Board, Bristol. Dated 21st September, 
 1861.—Upon a strong wood or metal frame the patentee lays and 
 secures a sheet or plate of zinc or other metal, on the upper surface of 
 which he fixes metal bars, in such manner that series of chambers or 
 passages, extending from end to end of the plate, are formed. He 
 places strips of wood, or other suitable material, at the ends and sides; 
 and he covers the whole with another sheet of metal, similar to the 
 first, in order to obtain a smooth and hollow bed on which to perform 
 the veneering. Having formed the hollow bed, he places pipes below 
 it in communication with the ends of each of the passages; at one end 
 of which he admits steam, hotair, or hot water, which, travelling along 
 the passage, passes off at the other end. Clamps are fitted to the 
 press, which, for convenience, he hinges at one end of the frame. 
 
 Improvements in Treating Stone, Bricks, and other Sur¬ 
 faces AND IN THE MANUFACTURE OF FILTERS. -F. M. and E. L. 
 
 Ransome, Ipswich. Dated 16th September, 1861.—For the purpose of 
 treating stone, bricks, and other surfaces, the patentees employ pow¬ 
 dered glass, or other vitrified or hard substance, or powdered flint, or 
 powdered stone, or sand mixed with soluble silicate, with or without 
 colouring matter; the object being so to apply soluble silicate that it 
 may, for the most part, be retained in combination with the pulverized 
 substance on the surface of the stone, bricks, or other substances to 
 which it may be applied; and this is effected by the admixture of the 
 pulverized substances with it. The compound of soluble silicate and 
 pulverized matter or matters having been applied to the surface of the 
 stone, bricks, or other material, the soluble silicate is then rendered 
 insoluble in like manner to that practised when impregnating stone or 
 other substances with soluble silicate; but by this mode of treatment 
 the pulverized matters will be combined with the silicate (which is ren¬ 
 
 dered insoluble) on the surface of the stone, bricks, or other substances. 
 When making parts of filters of pulverized stone, sand, or other ma¬ 
 terials, cemented by soluble silicate, and also, when using other porous 
 stone or material, the patentees form such porous matters into hollow 
 triangular forms or tubes, by which they are enabled to obtain more 
 extended filtering substances within a given space than can be obtained 
 by other constructions of filters; and such triangular tubes may be 
 combined at pleasure, according to various arrangements. 
 
 Fittings and Method of Hanging Window-sashes. —J. 
 Gurman, Southampton. Dated 18th September, 1861.—This invention 
 relates, first, to the fitting and hanging of window-sashes in such manner 
 that they can be readily removed from the frames for cleaning and 
 other purposes without the necessity of disturbing the beads. To 
 effect this, the patentee forms what he terms a pocket in one side of 
 the window-frame, similar to that which is sometimes made to get at 
 the counter-balance weights. He makes such pocket somewhat longer 
 than one of the sashes; and fits it with pieces jointed together in the 
 length ; the upper end having a spring catch, and the lower one fitting 
 into a step or socket, or vice versd; by which means such pieces may 
 be released and slid out and into position; the sash at the time being 
 in a suitable position. In this pocket-piece he also comprises part of 
 the bead that separates the easlies; so that when the pocket-piece is 
 removed, a part of the bead of some length also comes out. The 
 pocket-piece having been removed, the inside sash is slid into the posi¬ 
 tion embraced by the pocket, and may there be moved laterally to an 
 extent of, say three-fourths of an inch, which is sufficient to clear the 
 bead on the opposite side, and the sash so removed from the frame. In 
 order to attach the cords readily, he secures a metal-piece to the end of 
 the cord, which piece has a globular enlargement at the end : this is 
 received in a socket fixed to the sash, from which it may be readily 
 detached in the manner of a door-chain. In the piece attached to the 
 cord he forms a hole or socket to receive the end of the cord, which he 
 secures thereto by one or more bending screws. The outside sash may 
 also be slid to position opposite the pocket, into which it may be 
 moved laterally: being first moved inwards a little on the pocket 
 side, for which it is free; the mid or parting bead being removed at 
 that point, as before mentioned. The attachments of the cords are as 
 before described; and in this way both sashes are readily capable of 
 removal. The next part of these improvements relates to the fittings 
 of sashes which balance each other. For this purpose he uses cords 
 with suitable metal attachments, such as before described; and at the 
 one end he applies a regulating screw, which can be turned at pleasure 
 to regulate the length of the cord, to allow for expansion and contrac¬ 
 tion thereof, and insure the simultaneous closing of the upper and 
 lower sashes. The pulleys over which the cords pass to connect the 
 two sashes are situate in the mid bead, or bead disposed between the 
 two sashes. He forms the bracket or piece in which such pulley is 
 mounted with a frame or part to form the continuation of such bead, 
 and so give the whole a perfect appearance, and ensure the necessary 
 strength. 
 
 Improvements in the Manufacture of Stones, Bricks, 
 Tiles, Slabs, Statuary, and such like Materials, and in the 
 Method of and Means for Cleansing and Indurating the 
 same. —J. C. Combe and J. Wright, Bridge-street, Blackfriars, 
 London. Dated 19th September, 1861.—The patentees propose to 
 make use of a solution of silicate of potash, weak or strong, as re¬ 
 quired by circumstances ; and then to add to this solution a sufficient 
 quantity of liydrofluo-silicic acid, weak or strong as required; but pre¬ 
 ponderating in its equivalent, so as to leave the mixture decidedly 
 acid. 
 
 Roof and other Lights. —R. Smith, Hornsey; B. Brookes, 
 ICing’s-cross; and J. Smith, Tottenham. Dated 13th September, 
 1861.—The patentees form the bars and other parts where they sup¬ 
 port the glass with longitudinal recesses or gutters, over which the 
 edges of the glass are laid; and the glass is then retained by putty in 
 the usual way, or by other suitable holding means. When from any 
 cause the putty or other holding means admits water through it, such 
 water, after passing under the edges of the glass, in place of dropping 
 at once therefrom, will be received into the longitudinal recesses or 
 gutters, and by them may be conducted to suitable channels or 
 receivers. 
 
 The governors of St. Thomas’s Hospital are in treaty with the Com¬ 
 pany of Fishmongers for the use of seven acres of land at Walworth 
 for a temporary hospital, which, there is no doubt, could be easily erected 
 before August. 
 
64 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 Building Works in the Borough oe Liverpool. —The 
 twenty-fourth annual report of Mr. William Rishton, the building sur¬ 
 veyor, to the local Health Committee has been printed. From this 
 report it appears that, although the number of dwelling-houses erected 
 in 1861 is somewhat below the average of the six years 1855-60, it 
 greatly exceeds that of the six years 1849-54; being, for the last year, 
 1250 against 1600,—the average in the previous six years, and 765 the 
 average in the six years prior thereto. The great majority of the pre¬ 
 mises are of a better class than those erected in 1860. The number of 
 houses built in that year producing a rental less than 1 21. per annum 
 was 161; whilst in the past twelve months there were only 45 of this 
 class built. In 1861 only 109 premises were constructed with se¬ 
 parate cellar dwellings, against 192 in 1860; and though there was an 
 increase last year of 81 terrace houses, some of these were of a greatly 
 improved character. In new dwelling-houses the middens have been 
 disallowed, and in 185 cases of houses previously built, cesspools have 
 been abolished, and water-closets provided. The new erections in the 
 borough of a large character other than dwellings have been nearly 
 equal to those of 1860, except in the instance of warehouses, which 
 were 19 in 1861, against 32 in 1860. Notwithstanding the reduction 
 in the number of erections in 1861, the amount expended on old and 
 new buildings is nearly 14,00(R. more for 1861 than for 1860, which 
 was a period of very large expenditure. 
 
 The late Mr. John Thomas. —The Scotsman says, Mr. John 
 Thomas, the eminent sculptor, died at his residence, Florentine Villa, 
 London, on the 9th April. He was born at Chalford, in Gloucester¬ 
 shire, in 1813, and has died in the forty-ninth year of his age. His 
 extraordinary fertility of invention, wonderful rapidity of execution, 
 and accurate knowledge in every department of decorative and archi¬ 
 tectural sculpture, caused him to be extensively employed by almost 
 all the leading architects in the kingdom; and his works—whether in 
 wood, metal, stone, or marble—were all characterized by elegance 
 and originality. He was equally at home in every style, and master 
 of every detail, whether Roman, Italian, or Gothic, and his productions 
 are to be found in many of the principal structures in the chief towns 
 of the kingdom. Mr. Thomas had the honour to be extensively em¬ 
 ployed by the late Prince Consort, and executed, in a way to elicit the 
 commendation of royalty, large bas-relief panels of Peace and War for 
 Buckingham Palace, as well as similar works for Windsor Castle, 
 Balmoral Castle, and others of the royal palaces. The model dairy at 
 Windsor was designed and executed for Prince Albert by Mr. Thomas. 
 The whole interior is lined with encaustic and Majolica, with charac¬ 
 teristic figures, emblems, devices, and mottoes, executed in colour from 
 the designs and models of Mr. Thomas. The enormous lions on the 
 entrance piers at the Britannia Bridge, Menai Straits, each measuring 
 nearly thirty feet in length, were executed by Mr. Thomas; and, even 
 in their gigantic dimensions, display symmetrical proportion and 
 masterly conception. The large bas-reliefs in the station at Euston- 
 square, as well as the pediment and figures in the front elevation of 
 the Great Western Station, are also the production of Mr. Thomas. 
 The sculpture at the new works at the Serpentine, as well as that at 
 the grand entrance gateway to Buckingham Palace, are also by him; 
 and these are but a tithe of the innumerable productions of his extra¬ 
 ordinary, industrious, and versatile genius. Public monuments have 
 been erected by him in many of the chief towns in England; and, in 
 addition to this, he was architect of several mansions, among others of 
 which may be named Somerleyton—the seat of his early patron and 
 friend. Sir Morton Peto. In Glasgow are to be seen a few of the 
 works of Mr. Thomas. The sculptures on the front of the National 
 Bank and in the new telling-room of the Union Bank are specimens 
 of his skill. Another work of his there, the beautiful mausoleum of 
 the Houldsworth family, with its figures of Faith, Hope, and Charity, 
 is a model of purity, both in its sculpture and architecture. The late 
 Mr. John Houldsworth had his new house decorated and furnished by 
 Mr. Thomas. The ceilings and walls of the principal apartments were 
 enriched and coloured from his designs; and mantelpieces and doors 
 of inlaid woods and marbles, floors of marquetry, marble statuettes 
 appropriate to the rooms in which they were placed, tables, chairs, 
 carpets, and curtains, all in unison, from Mr. Thomas’s designs, ren¬ 
 dered this house altogether a perfect specimen of the unity and harmony 
 so much desiderated in internal furnishing and decoration. In Edin¬ 
 burgh we have a few specimens of Mr. Thomas’s works—the archi¬ 
 tectural sculpture on the Life Assurance buildings in Princes-street, 
 the group of figures in the Masonic Hall, George-street, and the quaint 
 
 figures on the unique fountain at Holyrood. While carrying on a 
 very extensive business as an architectural sculptor, Mr. Thomas 
 applied himself to high-class art; and his figures of Musidora, Godiva, 
 and others, exhibited in the Royal Academy, were received with well- 
 merited commendation. The forthcoming International Exhibition 
 will, we understand, he enriched with several specimens of Mr. 
 Thomas’s skill. Messrs. Minton are to exhibit a large Majolica foun¬ 
 tain, designed by Mr. Thomas, in the Great Western Transept. It is 
 most elaborate, both in design and execution, and colossal in dimen¬ 
 sions. But by far the most interesting production of Mr. Thomas to 
 be exhibited is a model on a large scale of a monument to Shakspeare, 
 the design for which, we believe, was submitted to, and approved by, 
 the Prince Consort. The model is between twenty and thirty feet in 
 height; the figure of Shakspeare, which is eight feet in height, is 
 seated on a circular pedestal, enriched with figures from his works; 
 and on each side, on ante-pedestals, are figures of Tragedy and 
 Comedy. This design has been the dream of the lamented artist for 
 many years, and there is some reason to fear that his strength may 
 have been over-taxed by his anxiety and labour in connexion with this 
 model and the many other works he had in hand. The want of a 
 national monument to our great national bard has been long felt, and 
 it will be pleasing if this noble production, freely contributed, should 
 he carried to completion, and erected on a colossal scale on some 
 prominent site. In private life Mr. Thomas was all that could be 
 desired. He was on the most intimate terms with all the leading 
 artists in London, and he delighted to he able to lend a helping hand 
 to genius and worth. He was an agreeable companion, a kind friend, 
 and a most affectionate husband and father. He leaves a widow, an 
 only daughter, and many friends, to lament his death; while his 
 works will carry his name far into futurity. 
 
 Effertz’s Machinery for Making Bricks and Tiles. —This 
 machine is the invention of Peter Effertz, of Manchester, and is for pro¬ 
 ducing perforated, solid, and paving bricks, gutter tiles, roofing tiles, 
 cornice tiles, pantiles, drain-pipes, and other similar articles. The clay 
 is fed into the machine through a hopper, mixed by a combination of 
 screws passed through a grate, to he cleansed from stones and other 
 objectionable matters, modelled or moulded by pressure to the desired 
 shape, and received as an endless band by a rolling-table in front of 
 the machine. This rolling-table is provided with a self-acting cutter, 
 put in motion by the band of clay emerging from the machine, and 
 cutting the said band into any length desired at right angles to the 
 surface, or at an angle proportionate with the velocity. The necessary 
 pressure is exerted through a combination of screws requiring less 
 power than any other now in use. The machine consists of two main 
 parts or divisions: first, the press for mixing, cleansing, and shaping 
 the clay ; secondly, the self-acting cutting-table, on which the band of 
 clay emerging from the mould is cut. The Engineer of the 25th 
 ult. gives diagrams of the details, with particulars of the mode of 
 working. 
 
 NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 In tlie execution of the Plates which form our Illustra¬ 
 tions, we hope always to have the advantage of the 
 drawings of the Architects whose buildings we represent. 
 We also invite those gentlemen, in every instance, to 
 communicate both with our artists and ourselves during 
 the progress of our engravings, and we shall always be 
 anxious to secure their approval for every illustration on 
 its completion. 
 
 The lithographs contained in the present Part have all 
 been executed from the original drawings of the Architect, 
 and also from his working drawings, with the additional 
 aid of photography; and they will doubtless be preserved 
 and valued as faithful pictures of an interesting public 
 monument, and a chaste example of the street architecture 
 of London in the Victorian age. 
 
 All communications for the Editor to be addressed to 
 the care of Darton and Hodge, Publishers, Holborn- 
 hill, E.C. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 65 
 
 A GLANCE AT THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 ORACE WALPOLE’S plan of a his¬ 
 tory of Gothic architecture is as good 
 as any that has been hitherto sug¬ 
 gested. The designer and proprietor 
 of the Gothic Castle of Strawberry 
 Hill, writing to his friend the Rev. 
 William Cole, says: “Were I to exe¬ 
 cute it (the History of Gothic Archi¬ 
 tecture), I would give a series of plates, even from the 
 conclusion of Saxon architecture, beginning with the 
 round Roman arch, and going on to show how they 
 plastered and zigzagged it, and then how better orna¬ 
 ments crept in, till the beautiful Gothic arrived at its 
 perfection; then how it deceased in Henry VIII.’s reign. 
 Archbishop Warliam’s tomb at Canterbury being, I be¬ 
 lieve, the last example of unbastardised Gothic. A very 
 few plates more would demonstrate its change, though 
 Holbein embroidered it with some morsels of true archi¬ 
 tecture. In Queen Elizabeth’s reign there was scarce 
 any architecture at all—I mean no pillars, or seldom— 
 buildings then becoming quite plain. Under James, a 
 
 barbarous composition succeeded.The next part 
 
 should consist of observations on the art, proportions, 
 and method of building, and the reasons observed by the 
 Gothic architects for what they did. This would show 
 what great men they were, and how they raised such 
 aerial and stupendous masses, though unassisted by half 
 the lights now enjoyed by their successors. . . . The last 
 part (I don’t know whether it should not be first) must be 
 to ascertain the chronologic period of each building, and 
 not only of each building but of each tomb that shall be 
 exhibited, for you know the great delicacy and richness 
 of Gothic ornaments were exhausted on small chapels, 
 oratories, and tombs.” 
 
 Following the recommendations of the Earl of Orford 
 as far as beginning with the so-called Saxon church archi¬ 
 tecture is concerned, we may here observe that the first 
 Saxon churches in this country were all built of wood. 
 The first church in Northumbria was built of wood; so the 
 church of Holy Island. The church at Durham was built 
 of split oak, and covered with reeds, like those of the 
 Scots. In Greensted Church, in Essex, the most ancient 
 part, the nave or body of the church, was entirely com¬ 
 posed of the trunks of large oaks, split, and rough-hewed 
 on both sides. They were set upright and close to each 
 other, being let into a sill at the bottom, and a plate at 
 the top, where they were fastened with wooden pins. 
 These wooden churches were gradually displaced by stone 
 structures. 
 
 The chief peculiarities of the Anglo-Saxon architecture, 
 of which several specimens, though in fragments, exist, 
 are declared to be a want of uniformity of parts—massy 
 columns, semicircular arches, and diagonal mouldings. 
 Of these the two first are common to all the barbaric 
 architecture of Europe. But the semicircular arches and 
 diagonal mouldings seem to have been more peculiar 
 3 
 
 additions to the Saxon buildings. The universal diagonal 
 ornament, or zigzag moulding, which is a very distin¬ 
 guishing trait of the Saxon style, is found disposed in two 
 ways—one with its point projecting outwards, and the 
 other with its point lying so as to follow the lines which 
 circumscribe it, either horizontal, perpendicular, or cir¬ 
 cular. It is supposed that many specimens of ancient 
 Saxon architecture yet remain, as part of St. Peter’s at 
 Oxford, part of St. Alban’s Abbey Church, Tickencote 
 Church, near Stamford, in Lincolnshire, the porch on the 
 south side of Sherborne Minster, Barfreston Church, in 
 Kent, Iffley Church, and some others. 
 
 Not until the Norman Conquerors of the Saxons had 
 been firmly established in this country did the Gothic or 
 Pointed style of architecture grow and prevail in our land. 
 But the Normans were not the inventors or originators of 
 this style. Here, then, we at once come to the question. 
 Who were the originators of the Gothic style of archi¬ 
 tecture ? 
 
 This question—where, when, and with whom the 
 Pointed or Gothic form of arch originated—has been 
 more discussed and disputed than the discovery of the 
 properties of the arch itself. Its invention has been 
 accorded to, or claimed by, almost every nation, civilized 
 and uncivilized. There is one striking fact, however, which 
 has been too much overlooked by many of the theorists in 
 the discussion of the question ; it is, that the pointed arch 
 made its appearance almost at the same moment of time 
 in all the civilized countries of Europe. This is proved 
 by the controversies of those who claim its invention for 
 their respective nations, for none of them can produce 
 genuine specimens of it before a certain period, and to 
 this period all of them can reach. This almost simul¬ 
 taneous introduction of the pointed arch among the 
 nations of Europe took place immediately after the first 
 crusade. In this crusade all the nations of Europe took 
 a part. Now, when this fact is borne in mind, coupled 
 with the other fact, that the pointed arch was known to 
 the Saracenic or Mahometan nations, and that they were 
 never known to adopt any European custom, it is difficult 
 to resist the conclusion that the lancet arch, which is the 
 germ of the Gothic style, was derived by the Crusaders 
 from the Saracens. 
 
 In support of this theory there is another very striking 
 historical fact, that the Norman Conquerors of South Italy, 
 before they crossed over to Sicily, never in any of their 
 architectural achievements departed from the round or 
 Romanesque style. The remains of all their buildings in 
 Calabria testify a studious endeavour to imitate the works 
 of the Romans. Until about the conclusion of the eleventh 
 century this style continued unaltered. The Normans who 
 crossed the Straits of Messina, and obtained a footing on 
 the eastern part of Sicily, continued to build in the same 
 Romanesque style. But Sicily was no sooner conquered, 
 than from that moment the Normans adopted a style 
 totally different from the style which they had adopted 
 anywhere else — totally different from that which had 
 up to that time been employed by any nation of Europe; 
 and having once adopted it, they ever afterwards 
 
 K 
 
66 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 adhered to it in Sicily. This new Norman style was no 
 other than the pointed or lancet style, and this style the 
 Normans borrowed or adopted from their Mahometan or 
 Saracenic predecessors in the government of Sicily. To 
 these vanquished Saracens the victorious Normans, with a 
 statesmanlike instinct which proved them to be the pre¬ 
 destined imperial race of the modern world, conceded a 
 wise and generous toleration. During the Norman 
 dominion in Sicily, the code of the Roman Emperor and 
 the preempts of the Arabian Prophet equally continued to 
 be the law. In public documents the Arabic was em¬ 
 ployed concurrently with the two great dialects of the 
 Christian world ; and the descendants of the Scandinavian 
 conquerors copied the costume and ceremonial of Byzan¬ 
 tium, and adopted the luxuries and customs to which the 
 subjects of the Caliphs owed at once their degeneracy and 
 their civilization. 
 
 In endeavouring to trace the origin of Gothic archi¬ 
 tecture there is another consideration which ought not to 
 be lost sight of—namely, that some of the very earliest 
 specimens of the pointed arch are to be found in Venice, 
 both in private houses and in the Basilica of St. Mark. 
 In the former they are generally of the ogee,* or con¬ 
 trasted foi’m, in windows formed by columns or mullions, 
 with in certain places approaches to foliations and tracery; 
 and in the Basilica, the lancet arch is not uncommon. 
 The well-known commercial connexion of that city with 
 the Asiatic nations may easily account for the presence of 
 this style in her buildings even before the first crusade; 
 in fact, the Venetians were the carriers, and Venice the 
 stepping-stone between Europe and the Holy Land. The 
 conclusion, therefore, would seem to be inevitable that 
 the pointed arch is of Oriental, if not of Arabian, origin, 
 and that its universal adoption by the nations of Chris¬ 
 tendom dates from the return of the first crusaders from 
 their expedition to Palestine. It does not, however, 
 appear that the pointed arch, on its first introduction into 
 Europe, was accompanied by its ordinary accessories in 
 after time—its light clustered pillars, its mullions, folia¬ 
 tions, or featherings, and graceful tracery—all these re¬ 
 sulted from its adoption; so that whether the arch itself 
 was invented in Europe, or imported from the East, to the 
 European nations must be assigned the credit of educing 
 the beautiful style of which the pointed arch is the most 
 remarkable feature. 
 
 But neither Christians nor Mahometans, Arabians 
 nor Europeans, can establish a claim to be the inventors 
 of this form of arch. To find its origin, or at least its 
 earliest manifestation, we must go further eastwards than 
 either Palestine or Arabia. Mr. Crawford, in his “ Journal 
 of an Embassy to the Court of Ava,” in the year 1827, 
 writes :—“ The Gothic arch is observable in all the 
 ancient temples, a characteristic which does not mark 
 modern buildings.” M. Lenormant conceives the Ogive 
 to have come originally from Persia; the Palace of Sapor, 
 and the other monuments of the Sassanides, present many 
 examples of it. The same gentleman has also seen in 
 
 * The ogee or ogive arch is a pointed one, the sides of which are each formed 
 of two contrasted curves. 
 
 Egypt Ogives of the ninth century. Sicily, Naples, and 
 Venice would seem to have been the link connecting the 
 architecture of the East with that of the West. More 
 than this. It is found in the Pyramids of Meroe, as old 
 as eight centuries before Christ, and Sir Gardner Wil¬ 
 kinson has pointed out its frequent use in the Christian 
 churches of the Th.baid long before the era of the 
 Hejira. 
 
 In Ethiopia Mr. H" skins found stone arches vaulting 
 the roofs of the porches o ' the pyramids, perfect in con¬ 
 struction, and show ng both circular and pointed forms. 
 These are probably of the time of Tirhakali, or at all 
 events not earlier than the age of Solomon, nor later than 
 that of Cambyses. In his researches at Nimroud, Layard 
 discovered vaulted drains and chambers of both circular 
 and pointed forms. The assigned date of these is about 
 the eighth or ninth century before our era. It is re¬ 
 markable that we find the pointed arch in the earliest 
 Christian church of which we have any knowledge, that 
 church being the one built in the age of Constantine over 
 the tomb of Our Saviour at Jerusalem. Pointed arches 
 reappear in the aqueducts of Justinian at Constantinople, 
 and evidently were becoming, or had become, a current 
 feature of architectural decoration at the time of the great 
 Moslem irruption. Indeed, the Saracenic architects used 
 them almost exclusively. They are found in the oldest 
 part of the Mosque which Amrou built at Eostat, or Old 
 Cairo, in the middle of the seventh century of our era. 
 No others are used constructively in the great Mosque 
 El Aksah built at Jerusalem at the end of that century; 
 and in the Mosque of Ebn Toulon at Cairo, erected in the 
 ninth century, the pointed arch is an essential and per¬ 
 fectly established element of art, wholly superseding the 
 round arch, or anything approaching to it. In brief, no 
 fact is better established than that this form of arch was 
 used by the first Saracenic architects a few years after the 
 commencement of the Moslem domination, and that during 
 the ninth century of our era it had become as essential a 
 part of that art as it was of Christian art in France in the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 The theories respecting the germinal type, or seminal 
 idea, from which the Gothic style has grown, are no less 
 numerous and contradictory than those theories which 
 profess to point out its first practisers. We will in this 
 place glance at a few of them. First, then, there is the 
 theory of Bishop Warburton, that natural groves sug¬ 
 gested the primitive idea—the trunks, branches, and 
 foliage of the trees being represented in the pillars, arches, 
 and tracery of the Gothic. Second, the theory of Sir 
 James Hall, that the whole style, in all its varieties, is but 
 an imitation of wickerwork. This opinion of Sir J. 
 IlalTs is frequently, but erroneously, regarded as mere 
 modification of Warburton’s, with which in reality it 
 has no necessary connexion. Third, there is the theory 
 of Sir Christopher Wren, that the Freemasons were the 
 inventors of the pointed arch. Fourth, there is a theory 
 which has its principal upholders in Germany, that the 
 pointed Gothic arch is but an imitation of the Egyptian 
 acute-angled ceiling of the pyramids. Fifth, there is the 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 CT 
 
 hypothesis first incidentally propounded by Mr. Bentham, 
 subsequently methodized and illustrated by Dr. Milner, to 
 the effect that the intersections of semicircular arches, 
 formed by interlaced panels, in Norman cathedrals and 
 churches, gave the primitive model. Sixth, there is the 
 theory of Dr. Whitaker, that pointed arches were known 
 to, and constructed by, the Romans during the empire; 
 that these arc es originated n cross vaults, such as 
 may be seen in the Palace of Diocletian, at Spalatro, in 
 Dalmatia. This last opinion has received the high en¬ 
 dorsement of Dr. Wliewell,* of Trinity College, Cam¬ 
 bridge. We will consider one or t»vo of these hypo¬ 
 theses. 
 
 The theory which derives the Gothic from groves, and 
 tree-trunks, and avenues, is scouted by Mr. Rusldn, as 
 being brought forward by persons ignorant of the history 
 of architecture. On the other hand, the theory, to some 
 extent, is countenanced by gentlemen whose knowledge of 
 history may be fairly presumed to be equal to Mr. 
 Ruskin’s. At any rate there can be no doubt that much 
 of that luxuriant ornamentation which has become iden¬ 
 tified with Gothic Architecture has been derived from or 
 suggested by the vegetable kingdom. On this subject 
 M. Michelet, remarking on the d fferent developments of 
 the Gothic type among the principal European nations, 
 says :—“ Our Norman cathedrals are singularly numerous, 
 beautiful, and varied ; their daughters of England are mar¬ 
 vellously rich, and delicately and subtilely wrought. But 
 the mystic genius seems more strongly stamped on the 
 German Churches. The land there was well prepared; the 
 soil expressly fitted to bear the flowers of Christ. Nowhere 
 have man and nature—that brother and sister—disported in 
 purer love under the Father’s eye. The German mind has 
 attached itself with simple faith to the flowers, trees, and 
 beautiful mountains of God, and has reared out of them, 
 in its simplicity, miracles of Art, just as at the anniversary 
 of the Nativity they arrange the Christmas-tree, hung all 
 over with garlands, ribands, and little lamps, to delight 
 the hearts of their children.” 
 
 Then, as to Dr. Milner, who stands up resolutely for 
 the claim of the Anglo-Normans to be the founders of the 
 “ pointed style,” and who professes to have discovered the 
 type of the Gothic arch in the accidental interfacings of 
 round arches. In his zeal to establish this theory, the 
 reverend archaeologist went the length of pointing out 
 the identical building, and the particular part of the build¬ 
 ing, from which the whole of the Gothic structures in the 
 world derived their existence. This building, according 
 to Dr. Milner, was no other than St. Cross, Winchester. 
 Unfortunately, however, for the claim of Winchester to 
 this honour, it is now well-known that similar combina¬ 
 tions of arches were still visible in Lombardy of a much 
 earlier date than that of St. Cross. 
 
 In endeavouring to trace the origin and growth of this 
 style, it is important to bear in mind that the earliest 
 applications of the term Gothic had no necessary reference 
 to the pointed arch, the Ogive, the traceries and folia- 
 
 * See “ Sacred Architecture,” by Professor Kichard Brown, pp. 125 et seq. 
 
 tions which are, in our time, almost constantly associated 
 with the mention of that name. 
 
 The term “ Gothic Architecture,” like the name 
 “ Christian,” was first used as a derisive designation. It 
 is supposed to have been invented about the middle of 
 the sixteenth century, by the restorers of the Grecian 
 orders of architecture in Italy. It denoted every species 
 of European architecture which did not conform to the 
 classical orders. From Italy the term was imported into 
 England, and applied in the same sense. Mr. Evelyn 
 describes Gothic architecture as a congeries of heavy, 
 dark, melancholy piles. In the same spirit Sir Chris¬ 
 topher Wren speaks of it as “mountains of stone; vast, 
 gigantic buildings, but not worthy the name of Architec¬ 
 ture.” According to this acceptation of the term, the re¬ 
 corded time of building numerous Gothic churches is 
 from the reign of Constantine the Great, in the fourth 
 century, to the restoration of Roman Classic Temple 
 Architecture in the sixteenth century. 
 
 The truth with regard to what is designated as Gothic 
 Architecture would seem to be that, like the British 
 Constitution, it was not made or invented by any one 
 man or nation. It is the gradual growth of ages, and 
 the accumulated result of the contributions of many 
 nations. It was developed, or rather evolved, from the 
 repeated collisions of various and antagonistic races, 
 religions, and ideas. Mr. Gaily Knight’s hypothesis, 
 which derives it from all parts of the Old World, is, in 
 our opinion, the most truthful, as well as the most 
 catholic, of all the views that have been expressed on 
 this subject. But even Mr. Knight’s theory falls short of 
 the fundamental or living root of the style. His words 
 are, that “ the style of Architecture which we call cathe¬ 
 dral or monastic, is manifestly a corruption of the sacred 
 architecture of the Greeks or Romans, by a mixture of 
 the Moorish or Saracenic, which is formed out of a com¬ 
 bination of the Egyptian, Persian, and Hindoo.” 
 
 This is a broad but a shallow view. To the intelligent 
 eye, something very different from “ corruption,” and far 
 higher and deeper than “combination,” is discoverable 
 in Gothic, or, as it has at least with equal propriety 
 been termed, “ Christian Architecture.” It has a vital 
 principle and organic law of its own. These are to be 
 found in the genius of Christianity, in its chief mystery 
 the Passion, and in the history of art and its manifold 
 metempsychosis. 
 
 Ars, in Latin, is the contrary of in-ers; it is the con¬ 
 trary of inaction, it is action. In Greek, action is named 
 drama, the drama is pre-eminently the action of the art, 
 being the principle and the end of art. Art, action, 
 drama are strangers to matter. For inert matter to be¬ 
 come spirit it must be subdued, it must suffer. It must 
 allow itself to be divided, torn, beaten, sculptured, 
 changed. It must endure the hammer, the chisel, the 
 anvil; must cry, hiss, groan. This is its passion. Re¬ 
 member the old ballad of the “ Death of John Barleycorn,” 
 what he suffers under the flail, the kiln, the mill, the vat. 
 Even so the grape in the winepress. The winepress is 
 often the shape of the cross of the Son of Man. Man, 
 
 k 2 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 68 
 
 grape. Barleycorn, all acquire, under torture, their highest 
 form. Hitherto gross and material, they become spirit. 
 The stone also breathes and gains a soul under the artist’s 
 hand, who calls life out of it. Well is the sculptor named 
 in the middle age, Magister de vivis lapidibus (the master of 
 living stones). 
 
 This dramatic conflict between man and nature is for 
 the latter at once passion and incarnation, destruction and 
 generation. Between them they engender a common 
 fruit, partaking of the mixed character of the father and 
 the mother • nature humanized, mother spiritualized. This 
 is strikingly the case in India, where we meet alternately 
 with male and female monuments. The fecundity of this 
 twofold drama seems to have been apprehended by the 
 Hindoos. The Indian fig, the bodhi, that tree forest 
 which from every branch sends down a tree to the ground, 
 that arcade of arcades, that pyramid of pyramids, is, they 
 say, the dwelling under which the Deity reached the per¬ 
 fect condition of contemplation, the condition of the 
 bodhi, the buddhist, the absolute sage. This tree in which 
 there are so many trees, this thought in which there are 
 so many thoughts, grow up together and aspire after 
 union; this is the ideal of fecundity, of creation. As¬ 
 piration, aggregation, these are the male and female prin¬ 
 ciples, the paternal and maternal, the two principles of the 
 great world of nature and of the little world of art. Let 
 us rather say the sole principle; aggregation first, then 
 aspiration, of all into one, of all towards one, as all the 
 lines of the pyramid tend to a single point. The abstract 
 pyramidal form is reducible to three lines, is in fact the 
 triangle. In the ogival triangle, in the ogive, two lines 
 are curved, that is, composed of an infinity of straight lines. 
 This common aspiration of lines infinite in number, which 
 is the mystery of the ogive, appears in India and in 
 Persia. 
 
 From India to Germany, from Persia to France, is a 
 long way. Identical in its principle, art varies along its 
 route. At first, on quitting Asia, the Greek Temple, a 
 simple reunion of columns under the flattened triangle of 
 the pediment, scarcely presents a reminiscence of that 
 heavenward aspiration which characterized the monu¬ 
 ments of India, Persia, and Egypt. The aspiration dis¬ 
 appears ; the beauty is in the aggregation, in the order; 
 but the aggregation is but feeble. This phalanx of co¬ 
 lumns, this architectural republic, is not yet united and 
 closed by one arch. In Greek art, as in Greek society, 
 the connecting link is imperfect. The Etruscan and 
 Roman world was more united. So also was Italian 
 architecture. Here the arcade reappears ; it joins above, 
 and the arched roof closes. In other words, aggregation 
 is strengthened, and upward aspiration tends to reappear. 
 As with art, so with society. Here is a social hierarchy 
 and a magnificent power of association. The metropolis 
 protects the colonies, however remote they may be from 
 the city. As the symbol of such a world the column 
 does not suffice, nor even the arch. See the monuments 
 of Treves and Nimes with their double and triple stories 
 of arches and porticos; but all this will not be enough to 
 represent that which i3 yet to come. The East has given 
 
 nature, Greece the city, Rome the city of right. The 
 West and the North will make of this the City of God. 
 
 We know that the Christian Church was originally but 
 the basilica of the Roman tribunal. The Church pos¬ 
 sessed herself of the identical pretorium in which Rome 
 condemned her. The Divine City invaded the judicial 
 city. Here the advocate is the priest and the pretor God ; 
 the tribunal becomes enlarged, rounded, and forms the 
 choir. This Church, like the Roman city, is yet restricted, 
 exclusive; she does not include the whole; she pretends 
 to mystery, and insists on initiation; she still is ena¬ 
 moured of the dark catacombs in which she had her birth; 
 she still digs for herself vast crypts, which remind her of 
 her cradle. The catechumens are not yet admitted into 
 the sacred edifice, they are still doomed to wait at the 
 gate; the baptistry is without, so is the cemetery, the 
 belfry the same; the organ and the voice of the Church 
 are raised by her side. The ponderous Roman arcade 
 seals up with its weight the subterranean Church buried 
 in her mysteries. Things continue thus during the 
 Church’s conflict; the tempest of pagan invasion must 
 pass away before the Christian world can believe in its 
 own duration. The year 1000 was universally believed 
 by the Christians to be the term of the world’s existence; 
 not, therefore, until this portentous era was passed was 
 any notable attempt made for the construction of Christian 
 temples in which the sublime, the beautiful, and the per¬ 
 manent should be harmoniously blended. But the year 
 1000 is no sooner passed than the Church acquires faith 
 in the world’s duration, and a perception of its own unity. 
 Then it begins to shake off its narrow garb; it dilates to 
 embrace the world, and emerges from its gloomy crypts. 
 It mounts, it lifts up its arched roofs, and rears them in 
 defiant crests, and in the Roman arcade reappears the 
 Oriental ogive. 
 
 The Roman hierarchy piled arcade on arcade; the sacer¬ 
 dotal hierarchy piled ogive on ogive, pyramid on pyra¬ 
 mid, temple on temple, city on city. The temple, the 
 city itself, is here no more than an element; the Christian 
 world contains all preceding worlds, the Christian temple 
 contains all other temples; the Greek column is there, 
 but colossal, and exfoliated into a sheaf of gigantic sub¬ 
 columns ; the Roman arch reappears, but under a form at 
 once bolder and stronger; in the spire the Egyptian 
 obelisk reappears, but mounted on a temple; on the 
 counterforts stand the figures of angels and prophets 
 seeming to proclaim prayer to the four winds, like the 
 Imauns on the minarets ; the flying buttresses that ascend 
 to the roof of the nave, with their light balustrades, their 
 radiating wheels, and denticulated points, seem like 
 Jacob’s ladder or that narrow bridge of the Persians over 
 which souls are obliged to pass the gulf, at the risk of 
 losing their equilibrium by the burden of their sins. 
 Here, then, is the Christian Church, which, as soon as it 
 had emerged from the darkness of the catacomb and the 
 mysterious crypt in which the heathen had confined it, 
 lifted that crypt towards the sky. Deep as it had descended, 
 it now soared aloft; the flame-like spire escaped like a 
 deep sigh from a heart oppressed for a thousand years. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 69 
 
 So strong was this respiration, so vigorously beat that 
 heart of mankind, that it forced its way to the light 
 through all parts of its covering, and burst forth in the 
 ardour of love to encounter the glance of God.* 
 
 So much for the principle and generation of Gothic or 
 Pointed architecture. Its development and decadence 
 will form the subject of a future paper. 
 
 STUDIES OP MODERN ARCHITECTURE AT 
 HOME AND ABROAD. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 BY G. It. BURNELL, ESQ. 
 
 The power of the French nation to influence the intellec¬ 
 tual movement of the rest of the Neo-Latin races of 
 Western Europe, is one of the strangest phenomena of 
 modern times; and however it may be explained, on what¬ 
 ever faculty it may depend, the fact is still that, of late 
 years, every great modification in the modes of expression 
 of man’s higher aspirations discernible amongst them, 
 has originated amongst that gifted nation. Certainly 
 the change which has come, in so marked a manner, over 
 the various branches of the fine arts since 1848, must be 
 connected directly or indirectly with the events which have 
 taken place in Prance during that period, whether the ten¬ 
 dency of those events be for good or for evil; and at no 
 previous period of her history could Prance boast with 
 greater truth that she was the heart of Europe. Both 
 politically and morally, it seems to us that there is danger 
 in this tendency to imitate a nation which has bartered 
 freedom for ambition, and has confessed that it is unable 
 to support any long-continued effort of abnegation, or of 
 contention with the principles of disorder implanted in 
 every form of society. But the splendour of some of the 
 artistical works lately executed in France has dazzled so 
 many able and conscientious men, that it is essential to 
 examine narrowly the tendency of the principles on which 
 they were undertaken, and the influence of those principles 
 upon the sesthetical faculties of the age, both as regards 
 their actual and their eventual effects. 
 
 It is not our province here to examine the causes of the 
 sudden explosion of public contempt under which the 
 Government of Louis Philippe passed away, without re¬ 
 sistance, without dignity, and almost without regret. 
 Never did a great revolution occur in a more unexpected 
 manner, or apparently with so little reason; but as all 
 these great social problems must have their origin in some 
 deep-seated feelings of the human race, it may fairly be 
 suspected that this particular problem of the cause of the 
 revolution of 1848 had some connexion with the reaction 
 against the demoralizing tendencies of the Government of 
 the Orleans branch, which, as was before observed, had 
 displayed themselves even in the architectural taste of the 
 buildings in the new quarters of Paris. On the outburst 
 of the revolution of ’48, all building operations, however, 
 were for a time suspended ; and the disturbance produced 
 
 * “ Histoire de France,” par M. Michelet, livre iv. pp. 668 et seq. 
 
 by this event in the political affairs of the world was so 
 great as to cause this effect to be felt in almost every 
 country of Europe. A stable form of government slowly, 
 and in the midst of great opposition, rose from the chaos 
 of the commencement of the year, under the direction of 
 the moderate Republicans at first, and then under that of 
 the Bonapartists. Both these parties seem to have felt 
 that their safety depended on keeping the building opera¬ 
 tives of the capital fully employed; and, in their turns, 
 they respectively adopted energetic measures to revive the 
 activity of those branches of trade by undertaking ex¬ 
 tensive public works, and by encouraging the construction 
 of private dwellings. When the Prince President had 
 consolidated his power, and in 1851 had finally over¬ 
 thrown the Republican form of government, he entered 
 more energetically still on this course; and without any 
 regard to the cost of the operation, he commenced an en¬ 
 tire remodelling of the capital and of the most important 
 provincial towns, in a spirit so singularly like that which 
 led Augustus to convert his “ city of brick into a city of 
 marble,” that the suspicion naturally arises in the minds 
 of students of history that the measures of despotism 
 must in all ages closely resemble one another. And, in¬ 
 deed, the analogy thus indicated between the external 
 phases of despotic government, as practised by the 
 nephews of the ancient and of the modern Caesars, may 
 be observed to prevail to some extent in matters of detail, 
 quite as much as in the general system adopted by them 
 in their mode of conducting the general system of public 
 buildings, and in the intervention of the State in this 
 matter. All despotic governments indulge in a taste for 
 building; and the suppression of every exaggerated dis¬ 
 play of social activity has been accompanied by a great 
 effort on the part of the government to improve the monu¬ 
 mental character of its public works. It is easier to con¬ 
 trol bricks and mortar, and to guide the artistic taste of a 
 nation temporarily, than it is to control the exercise of 
 freedom by the thinking classes; and it cannot, therefore, 
 be a matter of surprise that it should be the object of 
 those who represent the principles of compression, to turn 
 the attention of their subjects to the practical questions 
 connected with building, in order to divert them from the 
 investigation of the questions connected with political or 
 moral subjects. 
 
 Be this as it may, the alterations of the principal cities 
 of France, subsequently to 1849, have given rise to a 
 European movement of the same description, and there are 
 few cities in which an attempt has not been made to re¬ 
 medy the defects of distribution, or to improve the artistic 
 character of the architecture : even in Holland projects 
 for this purpose have been prepared. As a general rule, 
 on the Continent, the designs for the new streets have 
 been prepared with a view to facilitate the movements of 
 troops in the interior of the towns, and to render street 
 fighting more difficult to the mob than it formerly was in 
 the midst of the narrow, tortuous streets of the middle ages. 
 The first operation of the French Government was, in¬ 
 deed, to form a wide street through the centre of Paris, 
 from east to west, and to throw open the buildings of the 
 
70 
 
 AECHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Hotel de Ville; and it was only after this strategical 
 route was completed, that the various boulevards and 
 streets running north and south were attempted. The 
 effect of these various alterations in allowing air and light 
 to obtain access to the old quarters of Paris, has been so 
 important in its action upon the rate of mortality of the in¬ 
 habitants, that there would be little good in questioning 
 the propriety of the course so adopted, if it had not been 
 for the fact that, in order to secure the rapid execution 
 of the plan on which those alterations were based, the 
 Emperor had thought fit to adopt a new municipal or¬ 
 ganization, which has left individuals even less scope for 
 the exercise of their own taste than they had previously 
 enjoyed under the centralized administration of the Con¬ 
 stitutional Monarchy. It is true, that of late years the 
 powers of interference of the Conseil des Batmens Civils 
 have been greatly diminished; but as, at the same time, 
 tbe powers of the Municipal Council and of the Prefect 
 of the Seine have been more than proportionally in¬ 
 creased, the architecture of the houses upon the new lines 
 of streets has assumed a more decided uniformity than had 
 formerly prevailed. All the elevations are submitted to 
 the approval of the authorities of the Hotel de Ville; and 
 the consequence is, that there is about as much 
 “ character” in the street architecture of the period of the 
 second Empire as there is about a regiment on parade; 
 and, moreover, the tendency of the whole social system of 
 our neighbours acts directly to increase the external uni¬ 
 formity of their buildings. For the absence of large for¬ 
 tunes, the gradual levelling of conditions (resulting from 
 the subdivision of property under the provisions of that 
 fearful mistake, the Code Napoleon ), renders the plans and 
 distribution of town houses necessarily alike; and the 
 fact that nearly all houses in France are built upon free¬ 
 hold land acts in the same direction, by rendering it im¬ 
 portant for the builder to crowd as many lodgings as pos¬ 
 sible upon the same surface area. If it were not for the 
 occurrence of the numerous public offices and buildings 
 of French towns, the monotony of their modern street 
 architecture would, indeed, be unbearable; and even with 
 that adventitious aid there is a sad lack of movement and 
 variety; there is, so to speak, an absence of individuality, 
 which is almost painful to those who have been educated 
 under a system of liberty, as opposed in its results to a 
 system of equality under a strong military government. 
 
 The political and moral causes thus referred to have ex¬ 
 tended their influence even to the details of the buildings 
 recently executed in the great French towns. The archi¬ 
 tects cannot think freely or indulge their own genius 
 when they know that their designs have to be submitted 
 to a body of men of preconceived tastes and opinions, and 
 who notoriously are intolerant of what they designate 
 “ irregularities.” At the present day, then, it will be 
 found that the style of architecture which was originated 
 by M. Duban, and carried forward by Messrs. Vandoyer, 
 Labrouste, Laval, Questel, Cendrier, &c., reigns with 
 what may be called tyrannical sway; and the majority of 
 the new houses, and far too many of the public buildings, 
 are erected upon designs conceived upon the principles 
 
 thus displayed. The characteristics of this school are a 
 feebleness of general handling; a want of pictorial effect; 
 a prodigal use of mouldings of extremely flat profiles, and 
 of incised or intaglio ornament; breaks over pilasters and 
 in the midst of pediments, which are in nowise explained 
 by, or called for in consequence of, the construction itself; 
 in a word, they may be described to be a series of vio¬ 
 lations of the laws of logic an 1 of < ptics, as derived from 
 the practice and study of the greatest architects of the 
 world. Such a style never could li ve become national, 
 had not a very strong central administration imposed it 
 upon the public; and one of the most grievous sins 
 against taste committed by the present government of 
 France is to be found precisely in the favour with which 
 it has treated a school of art based upon such mistaken 
 principles. The Bibliotheque St. Genevieve, the church 
 of St. Eugene, the Asile of Vincennes, the Salle des 
 Ventes des Commissaires Priseurs, the new buildings of 
 the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers, the Halles Cen¬ 
 trales de Paris, &c., may be referred to as illustrations of 
 this debased style, which unfortunately is being copied in 
 nearly all the provincial towns of France, and in the 
 countries which blindly follow her fashions. 
 
 The explanation of the growth and favour of this style 
 is to be found, we think, firstly, in the lower moral tone of 
 society produced by the corruption of the Orleans govern¬ 
 ment, and the still more corrupt and debasing tyranny of 
 the Imperial regime; and secondly, in the exclusive culti¬ 
 vation by the professors of the fine arts of the means of 
 mechanical execution, in contradistinction to the study of 
 the principles of art. “ Quand notre merite baisse, notre 
 gout baisse aussi,” said de la Rochefoucault; and it can¬ 
 not be matter for surprise that the nation which is content 
 to accept rest at the price of its liberty, should also forget 
 to study the arduous problems to be met with in the 
 search for ideal beauty, for they must require earnest and 
 persevering attention of the same kind as is required for 
 the study of the problems of the exercise of freedom. 
 The existing state of the French literature throws in this 
 respect a strange reflex light on what is passing in the 
 world of art; for the writers of the present day have 
 adopted a style which “ tells” more upon the eye than it 
 does on the ear or on the judgment—a style, in fact, 
 which has been aptly compared to the effect of light 
 traversing a number of prismatic surfaces kept in constant 
 motion. Thought is decomposed, as it were, but there is 
 no depth or harmony of colour in the images thus trans¬ 
 mitted ; and, indeed, it is only in the recent writings of 
 the men who had already achieved fame and position 
 under the Restauration itself, or under Louis Philippe, 
 that we can discover any traces of the former intellectual 
 grandeur of France. Guizot, De Villemain, De Barante, 
 Cousin, J. Simon, S. de Sacy, A. Thierry, Amedee Thierry, 
 V. Hugo, St. Beuve, De Lamartine, d’Haurranne, Carne, 
 De Tocqueville, De Montalembert, Parradol, Rdnan, 
 Albert de Broglie, Quinet, Michelet, &c., the true thinkers 
 of France, are men of other times, and they contrast 
 strangely with the La Guerroniere, Gachain, Taine, 
 Caro, Cassagnac, C. Nisard, O. Feuillet, Aulagnier, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 71 
 
 Dumas fils, Champfleuri, T. Gautier, A. Houssaie, &c., of 
 the governing school. In the decidedly recent times, the 
 most vigorous writings in the French language have even 
 been produced in Switzerland and in Belgium ; and it is 
 only in those countries, still free from the iron rule of 
 military despotism, that writers in French dare to handle 
 the grave questions of man’s rights and duties with the 
 grasp of intellect to be found in the writings of Bungener, 
 Castel, De Pressense, De Gasparin, D’Aubigne, Laurent, 
 De Rougemont, Pictet, Trotet, &c. The physical sciences 
 have not suffered in France under the present Empire, it 
 is true, any more than they did under the first Napoleon ; 
 but their cultivation is no indication of the moral value of 
 a national mind, for their excellence is in nowise con¬ 
 nected with the noblest faculties of our race; nay, rather, 
 it is perfectly consistent with an absence of moral worth. 
 It was well said by Joubert, that “abstract studies, or 
 those which are addressed more to the intellect than to 
 the sentiments, narrowed, even if they sharpened, the 
 mind ;” and the unseemly disputes between MM. Leverier 
 and Delaunay, Fremy and Carron, do not argue well for 
 those humanizing effects of pure science without which it 
 is in vain to hope for a display of forms of art able to 
 appeal to the unive sal feelings of man. And thus per¬ 
 haps it is th t mechanica' execution h s been of late 
 years more developed in France than artistic feeling has 
 been; that engineering has made more progress than 
 architecture; whilst, on the other hand, painting and 
 sculpture have, in that country, assumed the same cha¬ 
 racter of effeminate, morbid refinement which is to be 
 observed in the buildings recently erected. The engineers 
 themselves have not escaped the deleterious influence of 
 the moral atmosphere in which they live; and the affected 
 prettiness, the misplaced, illogical ornamentation and 
 frittered outlines of such works as the proposed cast-iron 
 towers for the Artesian wells of Passy and of Grenelle, 
 the Pon s d’Arcole, de Solferino, d’Alma, the Lyons 
 and Western railway stations, the Vincennes railway, &c., 
 prove that even these men of science have lost the feeling 
 for the superior dignity of simplicity and repose. 
 
 The state of architecture in England, and in the other 
 constitutional States of Europe, points the moral of this 
 tale of the depressing influence of a form of government 
 opposed to the free discussion of political and moral 
 problems. London has not been transformed as though 
 by magic, it is true, and the centre of our metropolis is 
 still a very irregular, inconvenient, and ill-distributed 
 mass of houses; but the old memories, the glorious tra¬ 
 ditions of the past, have not been ruthlessly swept aside; 
 the finances of the present and of the future have not 
 been recklessly burthened, and the labouring classes have 
 not been taught to look to the State to remedy the effects 
 of every temporary pressure; whilst, so far as regards the 
 interests of art, we have been left to display our individual 
 tastes as freely as could be desired. The effect has been, 
 that in those parts of London where great alterations 
 have been made, as in Cannon, Fenchurch, Broad, 
 Threadneedle, and Lombard streets; in Cornhill, Cheap- 
 side, &c.; in the various club-houses, and in the pallatial 
 
 residences of our nobility, there are to be discerned evi¬ 
 dences of deeper and more original thought—a truer 
 perception of the aim and ends of architecture, a more 
 correct taste, and a keener appreciation of the sources of 
 beauty, than in the more ambitious productions of our 
 neighbours, f Bridgewater and Holford Houses are as 
 immeasurably superior to the house built for M. Fould, 
 by Labrouste, as the warehouses and offices of Cannon- 
 street are to the endless rows of houses upon the new 
 Boulevards.^; and the architecture of Manchester, Liver¬ 
 pool, western Yorkshire, Glasgow, and Edinburgh, is as 
 superior to that of Rouen, Lille, Lyons, Marseilles, Stras¬ 
 bourg, and Mulhouse, as it is local and appropriate. 
 Even the prevailing folly of empl ying polychromic 
 materials, in a climate which is certain to reduce them to 
 a uniform grey tone within a very short time, argues that 
 our architects entertain opinions of their own, and are 
 able to think for themselves; and again, the preference 
 our nation manifestly displays for the picturesque mediaeval 
 over the calmly harmonious classical architecture, proves 
 that we have hitherto kept ourselves free from the exces¬ 
 sive cultivation of the analytical method so much in 
 favour with arbitrary governments and with the nations 
 ruled by them. Of course the new English school is 
 liable to criticism, and the new buildings erected here are 
 often, both arcliseologically and artistically, incorrect; the 
 very originality and freedom of their authors, at times 
 ind ed, lead them in to offences against the laws of 
 aesthetics. But there is to be discovered, in connexion 
 with these errors, a sincere love of art, an earnest aspira¬ 
 tion after ideal beauty, and bolder, larger grasp of intel¬ 
 lect than can ever co-exist with the absence of political 
 liberty. 1 Unfortimately, the English engineers have not 
 felt the same artistic influences as our architects, and the 
 most apparent of our recent public works—such as our 
 railways, bridges, docks, &c.—are characterized by an 
 amount of positive ugliness which is actually painful,- and 
 which proves that the improvement in the means of prac¬ 
 tical execution is by no means necessarily connected with 
 the advance of art. The Chepstowe, Albert, Ilungerford 
 lattice, the Newcastle High Level, &c., Bridges, are 
 simply hideous as works of art, and they must cause us 
 to regret the absurd separation of the branches of engi¬ 
 neering and architecture, which has lately caused the 
 professors of the former to neglect the study of form and 
 colour, whilst it has induced too many of the latter to 
 neglect the study of constructive science. The errors of 
 our school, however, may easily be rectified. The im¬ 
 provement of public taste, going on around us with such 
 giant strides, will infallibly cause our artists to study 
 more and more deeply the principles of their art, and the 
 caprices of the day will pass axvay as they have arisen. 
 Signs of this movement are already apparent, and the 
 reaction against the romantic school is already making 
 itself felt; and so long as we are spared from a strong 
 government which believes it to be its duty to guide and 
 direct public opinion, we may hope to retain this healthy 
 tone of mind amongst our artists. 
 
 It is curious to observe in Belgium the influence of 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 n 
 
 race on the modern styles of architecture, for the westerly 
 Wallon provinces have adopted the errors of the modern 
 French school, whilst the Flemish provinces have lately 
 revived a form of art left by the Spanish rulers of other 
 times; and the districts bordering vipon the Rhenish 
 provinces of Prussia, inhabited by the Neiderduytsch race, 
 bear distinct marks of the influence of the Low German 
 school. The new buildings of Brussels are evidently 
 designed upon the principles of the French architecture 
 of the period between 1840 and 1848; those of Antwerp 
 have a distinct local character, heavy and surcharged with 
 ornament, but bold and picturesque, “ racy of the soil,” 
 and reminding us of Rubens, Vandyke, Jordaens, and of 
 the times of Albert and Isabella; whilst at Liege, Verviers, 
 Namur, the most striking modern buildings present many 
 points of resemblance with those of Cologne, Baden, 
 Treves. Of course, these remarks are only to be applied 
 in a general sense, because a small kingdom like Belgium 
 cannot retain any very distinct local peculiarities, espe¬ 
 cially in these days of railway and steamboat travel; 
 and the works of MM. Dumont and Beyaert at 
 Brussels, Demany, Casterman, Van den Boorn at Liege, 
 Thirion at Verviers, are as decidedly composed in the 
 spirit of the artists of Spanish Flanders as are those of 
 M. Dens at Antwerp. The differences in the general 
 characters of architecture in the Belgian towns thus re¬ 
 ferred to may, however, be distinctly traced, and they 
 certainly add much to the interest of the towns them¬ 
 selves. With the exception of the section of architects 
 who follow the traces of M. Roelandts in his caricatures 
 of mediaeval art, the Belgian school of the present day 
 seems to be in the right path; and the English archi¬ 
 tectural student would find much valuable matter in 
 Casterman’s Parallble des Maisons, &c. As frequent 
 allusions have been made in these studies to the connexion 
 between literature and the arts, it may not be out of 
 place here to observe that the revival of the Hispano- 
 Flemish style has coincided with the revival of Flemish 
 literature, under Conscience, Snuyders, &c. 
 
 In Holland nothing of this kind has taken place, and 
 Dutch architecture has remained as devoid of grandeur as 
 it ever was; whilst it has lost even the comfortable indi¬ 
 viduality it formerly possessed. The new buildings erected 
 at the Hague for the Colonial Office and for the Palais de 
 Justice, the Post Kantoor, the new Societets of Am¬ 
 sterdam and Rotterdam, the sailors’ homes, hospitals, and 
 prisons, lately erected in the country, are about as devoid 
 of any pretensions to beauty as it is possible to imagine. 
 The principal reason for this depressed state of architecture 
 in Holland lies in the fact, that the profession of archi¬ 
 tecture is not there kept distinct from the business of a 
 contractor; and perhaps also in the fact that the climate 
 of that country is not favourable for the display of ex¬ 
 ternal art, whilst the building materials at the command 
 of the Dutch architects are both limited in number and 
 of inferior quality. But at all times the aesthetic qualities 
 of the Dutch have been markedly different from those of 
 their Belgian neighbours, and they seem to have been 
 influenced not only by the physical conditions of their 
 
 country, but also by the religious and political organi¬ 
 zations under which they have been developed. Holland 
 has not produced any great historical painter; nor has 
 she ever produced any grand architectural monuments. 
 Pier art has always been bourgeois and “ of the earth, 
 earthy,” perhaps because in the historical period she has 
 not had any distinct aristocratic class; and, it may be, 
 because the form of Protestantism she has adopted—the 
 Calvinistic one—is opposed to the cultivation of the 
 higher class of art—viz., the one devoted to the service of 
 religion. Nevertheless, in the sixteenth and seventeenth 
 centuries there did exist in Holland a style of architecture 
 peculiar to, and characteristic of, the country; this dis¬ 
 appeared about the period of the emigration succeeding 
 the revocation of the Edict of Nantes; and since the 
 commencement of the eighteenth century, the Dutch 
 architects have contented themselves with tame repro¬ 
 ductions of French or of German types, without making 
 any attempts to solve for themselves the various problems 
 connected with architectural expression. Even the period 
 of prosperity Plolland has enjoyed since 1848, when the 
 rest of Europe has been disturbed by the Russian and 
 Austrian wars, &c., has been powerless to rouse her from 
 this state of intellectual torpor; and the Dutch continue 
 to merit the nickname, so often applied to them, of “ the 
 Chinese of Europe.” This is a strange problem, for 
 there is wealth, freedom (both political and moral), and a 
 rather marked tendency on the part of Dutch thinkers to 
 enter upon abstract psychological investigations in a fear¬ 
 less manner. Does the national love for the useful inca¬ 
 pacitate the people for an appreciation of the beautiful ? 
 
 In Germany the most remarkable phenomenon in the 
 woHd of art observable in the period subsequent to 1848 
 is the extended influence of the Prussian or North Ger¬ 
 man school, even in Austria and Bavaria, or Southern 
 Germany. The tendency of the Prussian school is mainly 
 the same as that of the English school; that is to say, it 
 is romantic rather than classical, synthetical in its method 
 rather than analytical, following in its choice of means the 
 examples of the Middle Ages, when the Catholic church 
 was all-powerful, rather than those of Greek or Roman 
 polytheism. Still, this similarity is “ as with a difference;” 
 for there is a cold, pedantic spirit- about the north Ger¬ 
 man architecture of late years, and a worship of school 
 teaching, which deprives its monuments of the spontaneous 
 character requisite for a living art, and which seems to 
 have been produced by the influence of the ubiquitous 
 bureaucracies of that country. In all these discussions 
 upon foreign architecture, it is indeed essential to bear in 
 mind the effect of the powerful centralization of the 
 Governments, which have adopted the system of organi¬ 
 zation inherent to the imitations of the Roman or codified 
 law. To use a neologism of the day, the power of initi¬ 
 ation is, in those countries, almost exclusively confined to 
 the Government; and it is both a tradition and a practice, 
 that the State should guide the education and the great 
 operations of the nation. Professors named by the State 
 from the members of colleges or schools maintained by 
 the State, direct the studies of the young artists or archi- 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 73 
 
 tects ; and the works of the more mature artists are sub¬ 
 mitted, in all important cases, to the approbation of the 
 various branches of the State administration. Under 
 these circumstances individual character can hardly be 
 expected in the works of the majority of architects; for 
 the number of men of sufficient genius to break down 
 artificial barriers is not great at any time, and in a crowded 
 profession there are necessarily more men of talent than 
 of original genius. Hence it is, that throughout the 
 Continent the prevailing style of the day, in any particular 
 nation, is more closely and generally followed than it is 
 in either England or America; and that there is a more 
 decided absence of local and of personal character in the 
 architectural productions of the former than we are ac¬ 
 customed to meet with in our cities. Nevertheless, the 
 distinction between the North and South, the Protestant 
 and Catholic, schools of Germany is still distinctly per¬ 
 ceptible, and the investigation of its nature might lead to 
 the discovery of some important phenomena of the consti¬ 
 tution of the aesthetic faculties. 
 
 Without dwelling upon this question, it may be de¬ 
 sirable to state that the new Russian Embassy at Berlin, 
 by Von Knoblanch, and some of the dome stic architec¬ 
 ture by Hitzig and by Persfus in the same town and in 
 Potsdam, represent very well the present tendencies of the 
 Prussian school. The Railway Station at Munich, by 
 Biirklein; the Commandantur Gebande of Vienna, by 
 Siccardsburg and Van der Null; the Greek School, by 
 Haussen; the Jews’ Synagogue, and the fine dwelling- 
 houses in the Kingstrasse and Karntlmer Thor, in the same 
 town, by L. Forster; the Realschulgebande at Briinn, by 
 the same architect; the Bourse of Vienna, the Austrian 
 Lloyd’s at Trieste, the Friburg Railway Station, &c., are 
 good samples of the South German school. The mongrel 
 classicism of Von Kleuz, and of the adapters of other styles, 
 employed by King Louis of Bavaria, has fortunately passed 
 away with the well-meaning, but very injudicious monarch 
 himself, and Bavarian architecture is now looking purely 
 German, from neo-classical, as it was. There have been 
 some recent attempts to reproduce mediaeval forms, as in 
 the Votive Kirche at Vienna, and the Elizabethan Kirche 
 of Basel; but the tendency of all German architects is 
 towards the revival of Byzantine forms, to which reference 
 has been already made. In works connected with en¬ 
 gineering, a very high degree of excellence has been at¬ 
 tained by the Germans, and they have avoided the English 
 error of entirely neglecting the study of artistic beauty in 
 these works, or the French error of wasting small orna¬ 
 mentation on them. 'TTt would be difficult, indeed, to find 
 any modern instances of bold construction treated with 
 artistic feeling superior to the Cologne, the Dirschau, 
 or the Marienberg bridges; the gigantic viaducts on the 
 Saxo-Bavarian railways; tor the more surprising works still 
 on the railway from Vienna to Trieste, across the 
 Soemering Pass; and our engineers would do well to 
 ponder over the lessons_thus read to them. The Germans 
 have also of late paid great attention to the construction 
 of theatres, and those erected at Carlsruhe by Hiibsche; 
 Mainz, by Moller; Dresden, by Semper; and the one at 
 3 
 
 IIaguenau,|prove that careful study is able to solve all the 
 difficulties attending the combination of architectural 
 rules with the requirements of modern habits. The skill 
 displayed also in the construction of the gambling rooms 
 and the baths of the German watering-places is worthy of 
 a passing remark ; and in fine, were it not for an evident 
 tendency on the part of the South German architects of 
 late years to seek their models in the existing debased 
 school of France, the state of German architecture must 
 be considered to be highly satisfactory. The only real 
 drawback to its prospects lies in the bureaucratic ten¬ 
 dencies of the various Governments; but Continental 
 nations are so used to be kept in leading-strings, that there 
 is no prospect of change in this respect. 
 
 Italy and Spain have not done anything of late to indi¬ 
 cate that their artists have laboured to discover a form of 
 art characteristic of the moral struggle those nations must 
 be passing through during the period of their revival. 
 Russia borrows her arts and her artists from the older 
 kingdoms of Western Europe, and seems to be but little 
 disposed to work out the germs she possesses of a national 
 style. America (that is to say, Anglo-Norman America) 
 is following the same course, and adopting its civiliza¬ 
 tion and arts ready made from Europe; and so also is 
 Australia, that last marvellous offshoot from our island; 
 whilst our East Indian and Hong-Kong architectures are 
 profiting, it is to be feared, little from the examples of 
 local adaptation with which they are surrounded. The 
 great moral problems connected with art development 
 are, in fact, still being worked out, as they have been for 
 the last three hundred years, in the north-west of Europe; 
 and it is there especially that art students should turn their 
 attention, rather than as of yore to the ruins of an effete 
 civilization. Without despising ancient art, it may fairly 
 be a matter of discussion, whether it be not better for the 
 young architect to study in preference to it the living 
 art of our day, especially as the best monuments of anti¬ 
 quity have been so often and so well illustrated. European 
 society is politically and morally in a state of ferment just 
 now; and new habits, modes of thought and action, are 
 strangely modifying the forms of art by which the ten¬ 
 dencies and aspirations of man are visibly expressed. New 
 materials are being also constantly introduced which re¬ 
 quire new modes of handling and new applications; 
 whilst such organizations as the great international exhi¬ 
 bitions are bringing nations together in close, but friendly 
 rivalry, in a manner which must eventually exercise an all- 
 important influence upon the future progress of art. 
 Hitherto architecture has gained little by these exhibi¬ 
 tions, in a direct manner at least; for. the Crystal Palaces 
 of Hyde Park and Sydenham, the Palais de l’Industrie, 
 and the “dish-cover” construction of South Kensington, 
 are all utterly devoid of artistic merit! They have, 
 perhaps, done good in this respect, that they have taught 
 architects “ what to avoid;” and also in the further illus¬ 
 tration they furnish of the danger of trusting to the taste 
 of State administrations ; but the great lesson to be learnt 
 from the whole review of the history of architecture at 
 home and abroad, during the last few years, is that the 
 
n 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 first condition for its healthy continuous progress consists 
 in the perfect freedom and the moral worth of the nation 
 in which it is cultivated. No state education, no royal 
 guidance, can ever compensate for the absence of a proper 
 moral tone in the contemporaries of an artistjjpnd when¬ 
 ever a nation loses or abdicates its own dignity and in¬ 
 dependence, its artistic eminence will soon be lost. The 
 course of events in France during the last few years, and 
 the present state of architecture in that country, prove the 
 correctness of these deductions, and it is precisely on this 
 account that we are disposed to attribute in the future 
 more importance to the English school than it has hitherto 
 enjoyed. The standard of moral worth adopted by a 
 nation is the most infallible criterion of its msthetical 
 merits; and, alas for France ! her standard has latterly 
 sounded the lowest depths of the lower deeps. She has, 
 however, a strange vitality, and an irrepressible love for 
 the true, the beautiful, and the good, so that her moral 
 eclipse cannot be of long duration, but it is very complete 
 just now. 
 
 MODERN CHURCH ARCHITECTS. 
 
 PUGIN. 
 
 We do not consider Pugin either a great architect or a 
 great man ; clever, restless, daring, and impulsive, his 
 short life was spent in a fierce struggle, lit up with many 
 brilliant sparks of genius, and ending at last in the utter 
 wreck of a noble intellect. But, although we cannot 
 place him in the first, he stood very high in the second 
 rank of art reformers, and has left, like some meteor, a 
 noble stream of light in England’s horizon. 
 
 Everything pertaining to Pugin had force and energy 
 in it, and much was strange and out of the usual order. 
 His first start in life was highly favourable—the son of 
 an artist in good practice and of high reputation, with 
 ample means to educate his son and give him a good 
 position, he was delivered alike from the depressing 
 poverty which damps and destroys so many aspirants to 
 fame, and also from the affluence which engenders idle¬ 
 ness, and takes from many the incitement to action. For 
 himself, he was precocious from the cradle. We are not 
 told at what age he walked, but he talked very early, and 
 was a baby dogmatist when he left the nursery. His 
 mother was a strange but clever woman, governing her 
 household with a grim prison-like discipline, and attend¬ 
 ing the ministry of the late Edward Irving, and listening 
 devoutly to the utterances of the " unknown tongues” on 
 Sundays, and who was complimented by being told that 
 she was very like—the devil; but to the end of her life 
 she was a devout believer in the genius of her son. “ If 
 he understood how to dress himself, I should consider 
 him a universal genius,” she said in a letter to a friend, 
 written when young Pugin was thirteen years of age; but 
 this was an accomplishment he never could attain, and he 
 remained a sloven to the end of his life. He was, how¬ 
 ever, an artist even then, and some sketches of his are 
 preserved that afford sufficient evidence of the wonderful 
 
 precocity of the child, and give promise of all that a 
 fond mother could desire. 
 
 It is only ten years since Pugin died, and his life is so 
 well known that we have little reason to dwell largely 
 upon it. It had, says Professor Kerr, but three chapters: 
 his youth, his manhood, his eclipse. Measured by the 
 ordinary term of man’s probation, it was short, for he 
 died at forty ; but into that brief period what a crowd of 
 sensations and endeavours are condensed. 
 
 Welby Pugin was born in Store-street, Bedford-square, 
 in 1812, and had begun by 1827 to be an acknowledged 
 artist. Mr. Ferrey has given in his memoir, or rather 
 “ recollections” of Pugin, many pleasing incidents of his 
 early life, and several glimpses into the domestic arrange¬ 
 ments of his home. Pugin the elder was undoubtedly a 
 worthy, industrious man, as well as a good artist, and did 
 ample justice to the training of his pupils as well as his 
 son. At fifteen, Welby, finding the regular work of his 
 father’s office a bore, was picked up bv a wealthy silver¬ 
 smith, and employed in designing fashionable Gothic 
 plate. This engagement, although a lucrative one, did 
 not last long, and we find him soon after engaged with an 
 upholsterer, who got hold of him and employed him in 
 designing Gothic furniture for Windsor Castle. Out of 
 this engagement nothing particular arose, except his first 
 grand whim. He was at the age of fifteen, remember, for 
 it is only June, 1S27. 
 
 Whims are the incentive efforts of genius. There are 
 some people who never get beyond this whimsical stage ; 
 perhaps they are to be geniuses in another world; but 
 there are others who get through it early. Pugin was 
 one of these last; he went quickly over the ground, but 
 the whimsicality w r as stupendous. So now comes whim 
 the first. 
 
 At the upholsterer’s he met the son of a scene-painter 
 of Covent Garden Theatre. He had never been in a 
 theatre in his life. Then, however, he went behind the 
 scenes, and at once understood all about that. Gothic 
 scenery was fashionable. He made a rush at the subject; 
 studied the processes of painting and machinery, and for 
 some time, as a mere boy, was the great Gothic designer 
 of such things. Not content with this, he cut to pieces 
 the attic story of his old father’s house in Great Russell - 
 street, formed it into a theatre of his own, and there 
 revelled in designing (to use the words of Mr. Ferrey) 
 “ the most exquisite scenery, with fountains, tricks, traps, 
 drop-scenes, wdngs, sofifites, hilly scenes, flats, open flats, 
 and every magic change of which stage mechanism is 
 capable.” Suffice it to say that he rode his hobby very 
 hard over this pleasant landscape for about two years 
 without drawing rein; then suddenly throwing it on its 
 haunches, with the unceremonious kick of genius, he dis¬ 
 missed it for another whim. 
 
 His new passion was the sea. Whether the ocean is a 
 Gothic element in these days, when everything is matter 
 of opinion, might be a question for debate; but Pugin 
 loved it to his dying day. “ There is nothing worth 
 living for,” he would say, “ but Gothic architecture and a 
 boat!” A sort of Garibaldi in art, he took the command 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 of a smack, and then of a schooner, and went into trade. 
 At length old Neptune—perceiving, perhaps, that one 
 more foolish young rover was ripe for a lesson—cast him 
 lamentably upon Scottish rocks, and left him half-drowned 
 and half-starved to seek a friend where he might. He 
 made his melancholy way to Edinburgh; went courage¬ 
 ously to one of the principal architects, and introduced 
 himself and his misadventure. Gillespie Graham clothed 
 and fed his erratic professional brother joyfully, put a 
 purse in his pocket, and sent him home to Loudon, with 
 a dose of sound Caledonian counsel, and a keepsake 
 whereby to remember it—the good man’s silver com¬ 
 passes. All this produced satisfactory results. On his 
 arrival in London the repentant sailor took earnestly to 
 art. Six years afterwards one of the most striking designs 
 for the Palace of Westminster (some said it was the best 
 of all) was Pugin’s work in Gillespie Graham’s name. In 
 Herbert’s portrait, after many years more, Pugin holds in 
 his hands the venerable silver compasses. 
 
 The date of this not unfortunate shipwreck was 1S30, 
 and the ruined commander had reached the age of eigh¬ 
 teen. He now took to art; he took to it, however, still 
 whimsically. 
 
 Whim the next was an architectural whim—the esta¬ 
 blishment of a factory for Gothic carving. He took large 
 premises at Covent Garden; engaged carvers, and under¬ 
 took the supply of ornamental w r ork for architects in all 
 quarters of the country, making, of course, his own designs 
 of detail, as he alone, even at eighteen, could make them. 
 It seems a hard thing to say, but we are scarcely surprised 
 to be told, that within a few months the speculation proved 
 a total failure. 
 
 The idea seems ridiculously natural, but one might 
 fairly say that, amongst all these whims, it is a wonder 
 he had not married. Well, he had married. “ I had 
 married,” he would tell you, “ twice before I had shaved 
 once.” It was a short courtship; the young wife came 
 from the scene-painting connexion; she was taken home 
 to old Mr. Pugin’s house in Great Russell-street; the 
 parents much disapproved the match, but they did not 
 dare to thwart their wayward son. The poor girl, how¬ 
 ever, proved an affectionate companion; and when she 
 died, within the year, the boy-husband’s heart seemed 
 broken. The desolate youth, in his infinite depression, 
 looked back upon his past life. To smile at his hyperbole 
 ■would be sacrilege. He was not twenty; he looked back 
 over six years. There had been crowded into those six 
 years—even his stern mother said so —“ a whole lifetime 
 of w T oe.” Whim after whim : he resolved to seek out for 
 her burial some pleasant place after the pleasantness of 
 his own odd fancy. He took her to Christchurch, in 
 Hampshire, because it was a pleasant place. Three weeks 
 after her death he laid her in the vault, with unusual 
 ceremonial, at eight o’clock at night. Perhaps it was a 
 comfort, perhaps an embarrassment; she had left behind 
 her the sad legacy of a new-born daughter. 
 
 Whim after whim; he was not yet twenty, and we lose 
 their reckoning. He now resolved to build himself a 
 model house. It w r ould seem that he had cherished this 
 
 75 
 
 whim for some time, young as he was. He would build 
 in the Mediaeval manner, of course—not in the manner 
 which Nash and Wyatt followed, but in wdiat that manner 
 ought to be. He fixed upon a piece of ground near 
 Christchurch, where he had so lately buried his young 
 wife. All was speedily in readiness except one thing— 
 the money. 
 
 A few years later the money came, and Pugin built his 
 house, “ The Grange,” near Cantei’bury, and an ugly, 
 uncomfortable place it was. 
 
 The year 1833 saw Welby Pugin, at the age of twenty- 
 one, an orphan, a widower, a father; one who had seen 
 ups and downs in the world; one who had had his pro¬ 
 jects, and had some of them still. 
 
 He was a slovenly, ordinary-looking person; impatient, 
 dogmatic, and whimsical; sailor-like in dress and habits, 
 with a redeeming dislike, however, of beer and tobacco, 
 and a still more redeeming brightness of enthusiasm in 
 his eye. In all his ups and downs his memory had never 
 ceased to accumulate its stores of Gothic art, and his rare 
 right hand had not forgot its cunning. He now began in 
 earnest the battle of life. It will be seen that his ardour, 
 although all unabated, and still like no one else’s ardour, 
 was now the steady purpose of manhood, and no longer 
 the caprice of a boy. 
 
 He at once married again. The new connexion was 
 still somewhat hastily and enthusiastically formed; but 
 the lady w'as one who proved worthy of his respect, and 
 competent to influence him for good throughout the best 
 part of his life. 
 
 He went to reside at Salisbury, and became as nearly 
 as possible a man of business,—a practising architect. 
 At first he passed a good deal of his time in Gothic 
 sketching and study, making a tour, indeed, of the English 
 cathedrals for this purpose. He everywhere found resto¬ 
 rations, repairs, rearrangements. He disapproved of them. 
 He expressed himself vehemently about them. “ I rushed 
 to the cathedral; but, horror ! dismay ! the villain Wyatt 
 had been there ! All that is vile, cunning, and rascally is 
 included in the term Wyatt !” Again ,—“ The church is 
 in dreadful repair—fall it must; and all that is to be hoped 
 is, that in its fall it may annihilate those whose duty it 
 was to have restored it.” Again ,—“ The church was im¬ 
 proved and beautified about thirty years ago by the late 
 Mr. Wyatt. Yes—this monster of architectural depravity, 
 this pest of cathedral architecture, has been here;—need 
 I say more ? The man, 1 am sorry to say, who executes 
 the repairs of the building was a pupil of the wretch him¬ 
 self, and has imbibed all the vicious propensities of his 
 accursed tutor.” We can only say, that this was, at the 
 worst, very sound criticism, and at the best very rough 
 language. Sound criticism and rough language were to 
 be his through life. 
 
 Meanwhile, he had brought out several books illustrative 
 of Gothic art. During the years 1835 and 1830, he pub¬ 
 lished no less than four volumes of designs, in so many 
 various departments of his favourite style—namely, first, 
 his “ Gothic Furniture,” and succeeding this, his “ Iron 
 Work,” “ Gold and Silver Work,” and “Ancient Timber 
 
 l 2 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Work.” Although the knowledge of wliat we call Medi¬ 
 aeval principles has vastly progressed since that time, no 
 one who examines those early works can wonder that they 
 attracted great attention, became the accepted authorities 
 on their subjects, and established the reputation of their 
 author as the leader of the new-fashioned Gothic style of 
 ornamental art. 
 
 We are indebted for most of the preceding facts to 
 an able lecture on Pugin by Professor Kerr, and regret 
 that we are unable to follow the learned Professor in his 
 estimate of two of the most important points of the artist’s 
 life—namely, his value as an art teacher, and the nature 
 of his religious faith—for Pugin had become a Roman 
 Catholic. That his conversion was pure, simple, and 
 sincere—a real surrender of the soul to what appeared 
 to it to he the truth—an act from which all merce¬ 
 nary considerations were banished—is perfectly clear. 
 It is also tolerably clear to us, that such a man will 
 he as intractable in religion as in art. He was the 
 hereditary depository of two very singular natures—the 
 artist father and the fierce, credulous, dogmatic, and fana¬ 
 tical mother; with an innate restlessness that was pe¬ 
 culiarly his own. The religious element was nearly as 
 strong in him as the artistic, and both were irrepressible ; 
 the art nature was the first developed—he began to sketch 
 when a baby, was an artist at thirteen, and an old man in 
 his profession at twenty-four. He tells us, probably enough, 
 that he did not understand Irving when he attended his 
 ministry with his mother ; but in later life he would have 
 known better. We look, therefore, upon his adopting the 
 Church of England in the same light as we regard his 
 upholstery and scene-painting; Roman Catholicism was 
 his yacht; and he died a much better member, except in 
 name, of the Irving—or rather the Catholic Apostolic 
 Church—Ilian of that of Rome. In the community to 
 which he belonged he had become restless and almost 
 maddened by the sad discrepancy which he found between 
 the theory of one perfect and universal Church, whose 
 whole body was a living sacrifice on the altar of God for 
 the redemption of humanity, and the wretched perform¬ 
 ances which everywhere passed for piety, and but thinly 
 veiled the earthliness of a heart in which the fire of 
 Divine love had long been extinct. He was undoubtedly 
 smitten with the theory, doctrinal and ecclesiastic, of 
 Rome ; but he was sadly disappointed when the first flush 
 of the honeymoon excitement had passed away, to find 
 that instead of having united himself to a spotless virgin, 
 he had married a painted old woman of questionable ante¬ 
 cedents, and whose face was towards the earth rather than 
 the heavens. In the Church of his mother he would have 
 found things widely different. The Catholic Apostolic 
 Church is young and in the first bloom of its early life. 
 With the credulity of childhood, it unites a child like 
 simplicity and devotion of the heart. It is not called 
 upon to apologize for the corruption of ages, the tyranny 
 of priests, the slaughter of the innocents. Its history is 
 too short, and its power too limited, to have had any holy 
 wars, Saint Bartholomew massacres, inquisitions, or auto- 
 da-fe’s. With the Roman Catholic Church it was different, 
 
 and hence the embarrassment of such men as Pugin when 
 they join that community. 
 
 Let no one suppose that we are pleading the cause of 
 Edward Irving, or that we have any particular sympathy 
 with the Church which owes its origin to him; what we 
 wish to imply is, that few people know what it was that 
 Irving really was about. It will surprise many to be told 
 that he attached very little importance indeed to the 
 “ unknown tongues.” He certainly looked for these and 
 other signs and wonders in the Church, because he looked 
 for the manifestation of the same spirit, and in the same 
 degree, as it was witnessed in the Apostolic ages ; hence, 
 what was attempted was a restoration of the primitive 
 Church. His sect had, and still has, a regular order of 
 ecclesiastics, consisting of prophets, apostles, evangelists, 
 and all the minor officers mentioned in the New Testa¬ 
 ment, who are garnished with all the paraphernalia of the 
 Church, and have no lack of either copes, surplices, or 
 incense. Irving had therefore anticipated Pugin both in 
 the spirit and in the letter, and Puginism and Puseyism 
 are not very good copies of what he was the original. 
 This was our artist’s true place, and here he was evidently 
 tending, had not death arrested his progress. As in the 
 natural world kindred particles attract each other, in the 
 world of mind kindred spirits consociate together. 
 
 It is impossible to say what Pugin might have attained 
 had he lived to be an old man, and had his mind free 
 from the trammels of Popery; but the domain of art 
 which he selected forbade any surprising achievements, 
 because it dammed up the creative faculty. The wonder 
 is, not that he or any other man should have restored the 
 Gothic style of architecture; the marvel is, that it should 
 ever have been allowed to fall into decay and need a 
 restorer. No man had a keener eye than he for the bad 
 building and patching of Nash and other “ architectural 
 wretches;” but when the inventive faculty had to be 
 exercised he was found wanting, so much so that his most 
 devout admirers can only point to one really good and 
 faultless church that he ever built, and that is his own 
 at Ramsgate. The cardinal error of all our ecclesiolo- 
 gists is that they live in the past, and spend the whole of 
 their time in the dead-house; hence their anatomy of 
 monkery is remarkably good. But Nature might as 
 well have gone out when Protestantism came in, for any 
 particular love that those gentlemen seem to have for her. 
 
 Pugin is hardly four-and-twenty, but is established in 
 successful practice at Canterbury, from which he issued a 
 new and novel work. It is the book of a zealot enamoured 
 with his new creed. “ It was published by the author at 
 St. Marie’s Grange : the book-trade had declined to con¬ 
 cern themselves with it. This was the famous ‘ Contrasts; 
 ox', a Parallel between the Architecture of the Fifteenth 
 and Nineteenth Centuries.’ It is a book that every one 
 intei’ested in architecture should examine, for both 
 curiosity and profit. The written argument is simple. 
 The Refoi’mation, the author would say, in overthrowing 
 the Mediaeval Church, overthrew Mediaeval art, which was 
 identified with the Church. Protestantism had done no¬ 
 thing since but ‘ hori’ible repairs,’ to use his own words, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE 
 
 1 alterations and demolitions, directed by a tepid and 
 parsimonious clergy, brutal and jobbing parochial autho¬ 
 rities, and ignorant and tasteless operatives.'’ Modern 
 Classic edifices were but infamous Pagan caricatures; 
 fitness was the test of sound design; real old Gothic 
 work was the only art that would bear this test; it was 
 Christian art; and it was finally and emphatically Roman 
 Catholic art. Beyond a doubt, to a certain extent, this 
 was correct criticism; and if expressed in a temperate 
 manner, it might have been widely, if not universally, 
 accepted. But it was not temperately expressed ; indeed, 
 beyond all precedent, the reverse; exaggerated even to 
 such a degree as to lose its very power. The real strength 
 of the essay, however, lay elsewhere : a long series of 
 most clever etchings formed the f contrasts/ and these 
 certainly produced a sensation. After two or three rather 
 weak and overshot witticisms of delineation at the com¬ 
 mencement, he presents, not always honestly, but always 
 most adroitly, one set after another of sketches in pairs. 
 Each pair is formed, of course, on one hand by some 
 example of mediaeval design carefully selected for its 
 merits, and on the other by a corresponding specimen of 
 modern design chosen with equal care for its demerits: 
 his style of drawing, moreover, being all in favour of the 
 more picturesque style. The opinion of almost every one 
 was, that these contrasts, although marvellously bold and 
 telling, were in a great measure a failure, through the 
 well-known error of proving too much. That there was 
 great critical truth in them—much really sound compari¬ 
 son—the greatest enemies of his conclusions have always 
 admitted; but the celebrated ‘ contrasts/ in a word, are 
 a good deal over-contrasted/’* 
 
 His career for the next five years, although full of suc¬ 
 cessful labour, may be summed up in a very few sentences. 
 His abilities in design, universally recognised, procured 
 him a large practice; but his uncompromising adherence 
 to Romanism kept it confined almost exclusively to the 
 connexion of that communion. At length he found Salis¬ 
 bury inconvenient head-quarters for business; sold St. 
 Marie’s Grange for the price of the ground; and in 1841 
 established his home at Chelsea, being then twenty-nine 
 years of age, and at the very height of his success. Just 
 before the beginning of these five years he had assisted 
 Barry and Gillespie Graham upon their designs for the 
 Houses of Parliament; but otherwise his work was inde¬ 
 pendent, and soon plentiful. As regards literary endea¬ 
 vour, the five years which had opened with the publication 
 of the “ Contrasts” were to close with the issue of the 
 equally celebrated “ True Principles,” he having written 
 nothing of any moment in the interval. As for his habits 
 of life, in spite of the vast amount of professional labour 
 which he accomplished (keeping no assistant, but drawing 
 .everything with his own hand), he could still spare time 
 for a good deal of eccentric roaming. As when entering 
 upon practice we saw him rushing from cathedral to cathe¬ 
 dral, passionately worshipping the old, and heartily cursing 
 the new; so now, when overwhelmed with engagements, 
 we find him cruising in his yacht upon the open sea for 
 
 * Professor Kerr. 
 
 days together, and occasionally running down the coasts 
 of France and Holland. The merit of the “ True Prin¬ 
 ciples of Pointed or Christian Architecture,” as the work 
 was entitled, must be allowed to be superior to that of 
 the “ Contrasts.” Five years of practical experience in 
 life and business had made an improvement in the author. 
 The book of 1836 was flippant in the extreme; it carried 
 an exuberance of sail, and little ballast. The book of 
 1841 was less pretentious and more safe. The improve¬ 
 ment, however, was not so great as in any ordinary case it 
 ought to have been: Pugin was not by any means to be 
 set down yet in the category of sober men. In spite of 
 his subject being now almost purely abstract, he could not 
 help launching out into occasional philippics as fierce to the 
 full as the fire of his younger days could have made them. 
 In spite of the reminiscences of five years of solid work, 
 he could not refrain from exaggerations as weak as ever. 
 
 Pugin had not yet learnt that intelligent debate never 
 condescends to deal with sorry misadventures, failures, and 
 caricatures ; but, grappling with an opponent’s strongest 
 and proudest, by efforts of still greater strength and 
 greater pride, wrestles upon the highest ground at once. 
 Again, the hasty and rude engravings of this work, badly 
 shaded and even badly drawn, were discreditable to an 
 artist who was held in such wide esteem. Nevertheless, 
 the work was successful, and in that early day of modern 
 Gothic deserved to be so. 
 
 He lays down two indisputable but novel ideas: 1st. 
 That a building ought to comprehend no features what¬ 
 ever except such as are necessary. 2nd. That all orna¬ 
 mentation ought to be formed by mere eni’ichment of 
 construction. He pointed out that Greek forms of design 
 being based on wooden structures, the artists of that day 
 erred in using them in stone; whilst the first principle of 
 Pointed architecture, on the other hand, is to disguise 
 nothing and compromise nothing. The underlying senti¬ 
 ment of his life, devotion to artistic ritual, is more fully 
 developed than before. His prayer is that the Church may 
 again, as in days of old, cultivate the talents of her chil¬ 
 dren, to the advancement of religion and the welfare of 
 their own souls; for without such results talents are vain, 
 and the greatest efforts of art sink to the level of abomi¬ 
 nation. He begins with sound philosophy, and ends with 
 wdiat in any other man we should call cant. 
 
 What remains of Pugin’s history is short and sad. He 
 lived at Ramsgate, and seemed to be combining in himself 
 the double character of an Augustine monk and a man of 
 business; he was also gradually battling his way out of 
 Popery, and had to endure the social persecution which is 
 reserved for the heretic. One of his books was con¬ 
 demned by ecclesiastical authority, and the publication of 
 another forbidden. In the midst of this his health gave way. 
 In a letter to Mr. Minton, written amidst these cares, he 
 says, “ I am dreadfully afflicted in the head.” In others 
 he complains of utter prostration. Early in 1851 he be¬ 
 trayed decided signs of insanity. The overwrought brain 
 was chafed and irritated beyond mortal endurance, and he 
 died on the 13th September, 1852, at the age of forty. 
 Peace be to his ashes. 
 
78 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 We can only pause now over his grave, and drop a tear 
 in sympathy with the great and noble heart which always 
 sustained the fierce critic and made all that knew him 
 love him. He was the idol of his parents, his workmen, 
 and all who depended on him. His charity was unbounded; 
 he once astonished the people of .Ramsgate by going 
 through the town with a bed and bedding on his back on 
 a Sunday, which he was carrying to a poor, sick, and neg¬ 
 lected sailor. He was twice crossed in love, and three 
 times married; and it speaks highly for his social nature 
 that he was happy with all his wives. He loved them all 
 tenderly. On the death of his first wife he scratched on 
 the back of his watch, “ This day, March 27th, 1832, my 
 dearest Anne died unto this world, but lived unto God.” 
 Such was the short-lived, the gifted Welby Pugin. 
 
 WHAT IS ARCHITECTURE? 
 
 No. II. 
 
 BY T. HARRIS, ESQ. 
 
 In a former article we endeavoured to define architecture 
 in what we considered its highest and noblest aspect, and 
 to disassociate the idea from mere building, no matter how 
 admirable in construction and useful in detail any erection 
 may be. What we attempted to impress upon the reader 
 was, that between engineering and architecture there is 
 the same wide difference as there is between mechanical 
 construction and high art. The one is wielding force and 
 striving with the utmost economy of means to attain a 
 definite result; hence, whether it be the construction of an 
 engine or the erection of a shed to keep it in, he disre¬ 
 gards all other considerations except fitness or adaptation, 
 and economy or profit. If he can take five hundred people 
 five hundred miles in one day across rivers and bogs, over 
 plains and through mountains, his end is gained, because 
 he has carried them four hundred and eighty miles further 
 than they could have walked. His road must be smooth, 
 his bridges strong, and his tunnels secure. His end is 
 gained in the triumph over nature, by the welding together 
 of forces and combination of various means. The under¬ 
 taking may he great, the means employed stupendous, 
 and the attainment little short of miraculous; there is 
 immense utility, but no beauty in the whole work. The 
 vocation of the artist is essentially different from all this. 
 W ltli him it is a combination of forms, colours, and propor¬ 
 tions, and his end is gained when some ideal type of beautv 
 is produced. 
 
 The architectural vice of the present day, as seen in the 
 structures around us, is the want of high art. They ex¬ 
 hibit the most ingenious construction; every new invention 
 and appliance is employed, the very best materials are 
 used, and the whole put together with the strictest regard 
 to the office which they are intended to serve, but the 
 whole utterly devoid of every ray of real architectural life. 
 And even when ornamentation is attempted, it is too often 
 a lamentable failure. In such cases the real construction 
 is hidden beneath a shroud of false character, displaying 
 
 sham construction of the most impossible and absurd na¬ 
 ture, and if we had not faith enough to he assured of its 
 safety, could hardly venture to entrust our lives in the 
 building. Again, in many cases where sham dressings are 
 not resorted to and the true construction is shown, there 
 is a crude form that embodies no thought, and conse¬ 
 quently evokes no sympathy, so that we frequently prefer 
 the sham, knowing it to be such, rather than the dry bones 
 that genius hath never clothed with flesh nor animated 
 with spirit. 
 
 That we may be perfectly understood upon this matter, 
 let us suggest a few examples to illustrate our meaning. 
 Look at the ceilings of many of our public rooms, take as 
 an instance that of the large and useless hall at the 
 Euston-square Railway Station, and what do we see ? 
 A repetition of sham stone panels, enrichments, and 
 beams of the most impossible construction, if really in 
 stone. By the ancient method, when a dome was coffered 
 in stone, we see the object at once and are pleased with 
 the effect, as when the soffits or porticoes are similarly 
 treated; but to have a large space of flat surface treated 
 in this manner is without rational object, and consequently 
 fails in effect. They say it is not to deceive, because every 
 one knows that it is a sham representation, and that there 
 is no stone in it. Why, then, attempt to deceive, and by 
 an unmeaning mass of moulding in plaster produce an 
 effect that is neither grand nor pleasing ? A similar in¬ 
 stance may be found in St. James’s Hall, Piccadilly. On 
 going over the works during their progress, we were led to 
 expect great results. The iron roof exhibited a beautiful 
 combination of arched ribs and bold outlines, and with 
 proper artistic treatment could have been made a marvel 
 of real effect. But what is the result ? A sham covering 
 of the most flimsy kind, an endless repetition of canvas for 
 the scene-painter, hiding and disfiguring the whole, and 
 not affording the least indication of the noble construction 
 hidden beneath it. Look again at our exteriors, the last 
 act of despair in Oxford-street; where a factory is dressed 
 up with a sham cement front in imitation of a Grecian 
 temple. Such things are past criticism, though we are 
 never surprised to see them illustrate our architectural 
 journals. 
 
 Then, again, if we turn to simple constructive buildings, 
 and take, for example. Captain Fowlie’s productions at 
 Kensington, on which so much criticism has been em¬ 
 ployed, and which w T e are induced out of pity to spare, if 
 it were not for the sake of example. What do we see ?— 
 constructive skill of the best kind, in all its crudity, 
 plainly and clearly exhibited. But why with such skill is 
 the result so unsatisfactory? Simply because of the 
 absence of the higher qualities of art; a thorough want of 
 refinement and poetry; columns lined out and with sham 
 capitals and cornices stuck on the top, give a false cha¬ 
 racter, and are unnecessary; wall spaces panelled out in 
 paint and covered with ornament and gilding as inappro¬ 
 priate as can well be imagined, destroy all composure, 
 by giving a disjointed and trashy effect to that wdiich, 
 of all other qualities, required all the quietude and rest 
 that could be obtained, in order to relieve the lightness of 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE TIIE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 T9 
 
 tlie construction. Now the question is—How comes it that 
 we submit to such absurdities ? Is it that we have no 
 living art? No! every age has its own vital character¬ 
 istic in art, hut it may lie dormant for long for the want 
 of energy to awaken it. The precious treasure lies deep 
 in the heart of many, but is encased with the prejudice of 
 association. Numbers feel that such things ought not to 
 be; they are even annoyed at their own inconsistency, but 
 for the want of nerve and faith have not the courage to 
 shake off entirely the old trammels, and stand out boldly in 
 defence of what they know to be right, hut content them¬ 
 selves with that false policy of doing all they can without 
 violating the popular prejudice, and quiet their conscience 
 with the false hope, that when they get position and power 
 they will then become the Luthers of their profession ; 
 forgetting the old adage, How hard is it for them to do 
 good who are accustomed to do evil. Their position being 
 made, they then have not the stimulus for grand original 
 designs, and time has conformed them to the world and 
 blunted their perceptions and finer feelings. No; reform 
 is not to be achieved in this way, and such half-professors 
 are the worst enemies to true reformation. What is 
 necessary is a bold confession of our wants, a firm 
 and unflinching opposition to prejudice, and a stanch 
 and resolute avowal of the true principles of art. A true 
 architect in love with his profession will shrink from any 
 position that requires him to compromise his love of 
 art for art’s sake. What we require is more real workers, 
 who will sacrifice position for the true, rather than gain 
 honour by pandering to the false. Fortunately, our 
 martyrdoms are not very formidable affairs; the morbidly 
 sensitive will wince under ridicule and whine when their 
 genius is not appreciated; but calm, earnest resolution is 
 proof against the sneers “ which patient merit from the 
 unworthy takes/’ is content to scatter the seeds of truth, 
 and in due time reap the harvest of honour. 
 
 In applying these remarks to Victorian Architecture, by 
 which we always mean the architecture of our own age, 
 our first demand is, that our buildings should give to the 
 spirit of our times its form and pressure. We have two 
 spectres that meet us everywhere, under the names of 
 Grecian and Gothic; who will deliver us from them ? 
 Grecian art is beautiful, because it embodies the genius of 
 Greece. Gothic architecture is noble, grand, magnificent, 
 because it towers heavenward, like the thought in which 
 it originated, and rising on slender columns, points us to 
 the skies. But we who are neither Greeks nor Saracens 
 may certainly hope that the time will come when the 
 genius of England shall be embodied in temples worthy of 
 a great people. We rival Homer and Dante in our poetry; 
 Plato and the schoolmen in philosophy; may we not hope 
 that the time will come when we shall have an architecture 
 as original and fresh, and expressive of the mind of Eng¬ 
 land, as are the poetry of Shakspeare and the philosophy 
 of Bacon? 
 
 A memorial to the late Prince Consort is about to be raised, and 
 subscriptions amounting to several thousand pounds have already been 
 subscribed, in-order to build a County of Surrey Hospital at Guildford, 
 adjacent to the town. Earl Onslow has given the site. 
 
 COLONIAL TIMBER FOR BUILDING AND 
 ORNAMENTAL PURPOSES. 
 
 Through wood man first had iron ; through iron he has 
 wood. With wood the ore was smelted, and of the 
 smelted ore were forged the axe and the hatchet. And 
 from the earliest days iron and wood have contended 
 which shall be the most serviceable to man. Iron sup¬ 
 plies arms, tools, and buildings; but it does not, and 
 never can, supersede wood and timber for the latter 
 purpose. We have “ ironsides,” and even iron churches; 
 but we must still have internal fittings of wood. In any 
 climate a mere structure of iron, from its being an excel¬ 
 lent conductor of heat, would be intolerable. It would 
 blister us in the heats of summer, and numb us in the 
 colds of winter. An abundant supply of timber is there¬ 
 fore as essential to human comfort and wellbeing, viewed 
 in one light, as iron is, viewed in another; and a forest of 
 good timber is as much to be prized as a mine of iron— 
 more than a mine of gold. With an increase of popula¬ 
 tion there must, as a rule, be an increase of habitations, 
 and with the progress of taste and civilization these 
 habitations must be of a better order than were those 
 which satisfied our ancestors. To he of a better order, 
 wood must enter largely into their structure, for the sake 
 of strength, comfort, and ornament; and as our own 
 country is inadequate to supply our daily wants of wood 
 and timber for house and ship-building, for cabinet 
 work, and the thousands of purposes to which wood and 
 timber are applied, it is well to look into the sources of 
 our present supplies at home and abroad, and especially 
 into what supplies we may hope to have in future from 
 our colonies. 
 
 Previously to the discovery of the New World, the 
 Old World had to depend upon its native forests for a 
 supply of timber, and there are still countries, as those of 
 Northern Europe, which have sufficient area of forest to 
 supply their own wants and to export to the stranger; 
 hut for about a century England has had less to depend 
 for her supplies of timber from Norway and the coasts of 
 the Baltic, drawing much of them from her colonies, 
 especially the British Colonies of North America, which 
 abound in exhaustless forests of timber trees, which can 
 be applied to numerous building purposes. In early 
 times, our best houses in town and country were built 
 almost entirely of native timber, and in old manor-houses 
 may still be seen the vast oaken beam, the chestnut rafter, 
 the dark wainscoting, and the walnut fittings, all from 
 trees felled on English soil. Timber was less costly in 
 many districts than brick or stone; it was not so fragile 
 as the latter, and was easier to transport. A house built 
 entirely of wood had this disadvantage, when built con¬ 
 tiguous to others, that through ignition it injured its 
 neighbours right and left, or it was a prey to accident of 
 fire in the premises of a neighbour. The great fire of 
 London, in 1066, was a terrible instance of. the danger to 
 which dwelling-houses are exposed constructed entirely of 
 timber. With the growth of nations and the increase of 
 wealth, timber is used as little as possible for building 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 purposes. Brick and stone are now chiefly employed for 
 outer walls; iron girders in warehouses and magazines 
 take the place of wooden joists; but for internal purposes, 
 in domestic dwellings, wood and timber, on account of 
 economy and comfort, must still be employed to a great 
 extent. We purpose to take a survey of the woods used 
 for building purposes, and next of those for ornamental 
 purposes, natives to our soil, or which are imported from, 
 or to he found in, our colonial possessions and our Indian 
 Empire. 
 
 We give the place of honour to the oak, which from 
 time immemorial has been used in England for building 
 purposes. There is no occasion to give a scientific de¬ 
 scription of the oak-tree, or to expatiate on its many 
 excellent qualities. Perhaps the best oak in the whole 
 world is indigenous to England. In early times it pre¬ 
 dominated in our forests over all other timber trees. So 
 abundant was it in the time of William the Conqueror, 
 that the woods were not valued according to the quantity 
 standing in them, nor according to the quantity which 
 might be annually felled. Their worth, in fact, was esti¬ 
 mated by the number of swine which could be supported 
 by the acorns. This was likely to be the case in a rude 
 age when tools were wanting to cut down and fashion 
 the rough timber; but for centuries the English oak was 
 employed in the construction of houses and ships, and 
 “ hearts of oak” is a measure in popular English song and 
 poesy. Even in these days of iron the timber of the oak- 
 tree cannot be dispensed w T ith. The demand is not so 
 great as in the days of wooden navies, and in the days of 
 great beams, when the sawing-machine was unknown. 
 The inspection of any old London house will show what 
 waste of oak timber there must have been from the want 
 of mechanical contrivances to reduce its obduracy to the 
 rules of architectural propriety. England, which was once a 
 huge forest, and where the oak was the principal tree, has 
 been pretty well cleared of this kind of timber in the 
 course of a thousand years. It is now kept growing to 
 preserve the beauty of the ancestral park chiefly. Were a 
 sudden demand to be made upon our native resources, for 
 naval purposes, it could no doubt be met. An Englishman 
 will sacrifice to patriotism his most loved possessions; but 
 the extremity has not yet arrived, and while we have pos¬ 
 session of the open sea and our possessions abroad, we can 
 always have a supply of timber for naval and building 
 purposes generally, to save the necessity of our cutting 
 down our old oak trees. We have been rather improvident 
 as it respects our native forests, and there are large tracts 
 of Crown land available for the purpose of growing timber, 
 but sufficient attention has not been paid to planting 
 them. We can still grow good oak timber in England; 
 but as every day we receive from our colonies a sufficient 
 substitute for it, it is possible that oak-planting on a 
 large scale will never more be attempted in this country. 
 The increase of population has rendered the land too 
 valuable to permit it ever again to be appropriated to 
 forests. The seventh Report of the Commissioners of 
 Lands Revenue states the extent of the land in which 
 timber belongs to the Crown in each of the forests to be :— 
 
 A. a. p. 
 
 New Forest. 66,942 3 26 
 
 Dean. 23,015 3 29 
 
 Aliceholt and Woolmer .... 8,694 1 31 
 
 Whittlewood. 4,850 3 32 
 
 Salsey. 1,847 0 23 
 
 Whichwood. 3,709 3 5 
 
 Waltham. 3,273 3 2 
 
 Sherwood. 1,466 3 10 
 
 Bere. 926 2 13 
 
 Sulehay Walk, in Rockingham Forest 860 3 23 
 
 115,594 0 34 
 
 “ Of which total quantity,” says the Report, “ about 
 70,000 acres are fit for the growth of oak timber.” The 
 Report proceeds to say : “ If 700 acres, or 2 ijo> were en¬ 
 closed and planted every year, until the whole 70,000 
 acres shall be completed, they will, if kept under proper 
 management, furnish a perpetual supply of at least 35,000 
 loads of oak timber annually, from the time that the first 
 planted trees arrive at 100 years’ growth.” A hundred 
 years is a long time to wait for the maturity of an oak 
 tree. Three generations must expire before the wood is 
 fit for felling. Half a generation expires, possibly, before 
 the w ood is fit to be handled with the tool. The old saw 
 runs to this: It requires a hundred years for an oak to 
 grow; it requires a hundred years to preserve its maturity; 
 it requires a hundred years to decay. From the birth of 
 an oak from the acorn, then, to its good old age, would 
 require a space of three hundred years; but oaks planted 
 on a good soil are longer lived. There is another saw: 
 Five hundred years to live; five hundred years to flourish; 
 five hundred years to decay. There are oaks in England 
 which date from the time of William, the man who came 
 from Normandy, and who " put down” all the Anglo- 
 Saxons with a firm and sensible hand. Why, we should 
 have had our swine subsisting upon acorns, and like our 
 fathers been living in tents and huts, had it not been for the 
 Norman who suggested the idea of cottages instead of pig¬ 
 sties ! The Normans knew nothing of soap and water, for 
 then soap was not, but they had an idea of decency. They 
 parted off the family sleeping-rooms from the cow and the 
 pig. They were the first to introduce order into the 
 family. They were far in advance of the Celtic races, 
 w'here household uncleanliness is rather the order. They 
 were far in advance of old Rome. To the Normans we 
 owe our obligations for the use of clean water as a sani¬ 
 tary agent. The Romans boiled their children to death— 
 at least, the use of the Roman bath was an evil, through 
 ignorance of physiological principles. 
 
 We were almost forgetting our woodwork. England 
 declines to supply oak for building purposes to any 
 very considerable amount. We must go to Canada, 
 as the easiest market for any great quantity. The oak 
 timber of Canada, however, can never compete with 
 English timber; neither can any timber imported from 
 our colonies compete with that grown on our own soil for 
 ship-building and house-building purposes. It is only 
 recently that we have obtained colonial supplies of oak. 
 About a hundred years ago we imported pine from our 
 colonies, and about the same time we imported the cimex, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 81 
 
 the “ terror by night,” which was not previously known in 
 England. Since the days of Columbus we have made other 
 importations, but the best of them have been woods from the 
 dense forest—woods and timbers which will bear the test 
 of the tool of the graver and the axe of the carpenter. 
 
 It is not a curious thing, but it is one which will bear 
 investigation, that the indigenous woods of England in 
 durability and excellence are equal to all the woods of the 
 world. We may lose in fineness of grain, but in toughness 
 the woods of England have no equal. Canada produces an 
 oak, and so does India, hut except for economical purposes, 
 neither the one nor the other, be its dimensions what it 
 may, under the denomination of “ rough timber,” come 
 equal to the same denomination of timber in England. 
 Our prejudices are, therefore, all in favour of timber of 
 native growth; but here the supply is so limited, that we 
 are driven to other sources; hence our colonies are in¬ 
 valuable, and we derive more solid comfort and profit 
 from the forests of Canada than from the gold-fields of 
 Cariboo. Three centuries ago, the want of timber was felt 
 in England, and our forefathers having no colonies to 
 depend on, sought to limit the consumption of wood, and 
 regulate its price by various legislative enactments. By 
 an Act passed in 1533, the forests are sought to be pre¬ 
 served. The preamble says : “ The decay of timber and 
 Avood universally within this realm of England is so great, 
 that unless speedy remedy in that behalf be provided, 
 there is great and manifest likelihood of scarcity and lack 
 as well of timber for building, making and repairing of 
 houses and ships, as also for fuel and firewood.” Certain 
 rigid restrictions are imposed on the felling of trees and 
 the sale of Avood; but no Act of Parliament could pre¬ 
 serve what was doomed to pass aAvay. Our forests have 
 given place to corn-fields, and we obtain from other lands 
 that which our own can no longer supply. From India 
 Ave have oak, from various British possessions we have 
 timber of the same tree; but in specific gravity and dura¬ 
 bility they are all inferior to the British oak. Teak has 
 many excellent qualities; Ave are greatly indebted to it 
 for many building purposes, but British oak has never 
 yet been excelled. 
 
 The oak timber imported from America being inferior 
 in every respect to that of the common oak of England, it 
 should never be used where great durability is required. 
 A substitute for oak for shipbuilding purposes is found 
 in teak, or Indian oak, the produce of the Tectova grandis, 
 a large forest tree which grows in the dry and elevated 
 districts of India, and in various islands of the Eastern 
 Archipelago. Tredgold and CraAvfurd affirm that teak 
 timber is by far the best in the East; it works easily, and 
 though porous, is strong and durable; it is easily seasoned, 
 and shrinks very little; it is of an oily nature, and there¬ 
 fore does not injure iron. Compared with oak it is equally 
 strong and somewhat more buoyant. Its durability is more 
 uniform and decided, and to ensure that durability it de¬ 
 mands less care and preparation, for it may be put in use 
 almost green from the forest, Avithout danger of Avet or dry 
 rot. It is suitable for all climates and alternations of 
 climate. The teak of Malabar, produced on the high table- 
 3 
 
 land of the south of India, is deemed the best of any. It 
 is the closest in its fibre, and contains the largest quantity of 
 oil, being at once the heaviest and the most durable. This 
 teak is chiefly used in shipbuilding, and for the keel and 
 submerged parts of a vessel. It is not at all fit for spars. 
 A specimen of teak was introduced into the Royal Gardens 
 at Kew, about ninety years ago; but from the Avarmth of 
 the climate of Avhich it is a native, it can never become a 
 forest tree in England. The author of an article on 
 “Vegetable Substances,” in the “ Library of Entertaining 
 Knowledge,” says of teak —“ Besides its value as timber, 
 the teak has great beauty as a tree. It is found more 
 than two hundred feet high, and the stem, the branches, 
 and the leaves are all very imposing. On the banks of the 
 river Irrawaddy, in the Birman Empire, the teak forests are 
 unrivalled; and they rise so far o\ T er the jungle or brush¬ 
 wood by which tropical forests are usually rendered im¬ 
 penetrable, that they seem almost as if one forest were 
 raised on gigantic poles over the top of another.” East India 
 teak logs cost from four to five shillings the cubic foot. 
 The cubic foot of teak, from the Malabar coast, weighs 
 37 pounds 14 ounces, and the specific gravity is ’606. 
 The teak of Ceylon weighs 47 pounds 3 ounces the cubic 
 foot, and the specific gravity is ’755.” 
 
 Next in importance to the builder after the oak, in 
 modern times, are fir and pine, which we import in large 
 quantities from America; but unfortunately the wood has 
 not come alone, but along with it the terrible legacy of 
 the cimex, the “ terror by night.” From our colonies we 
 had not only bad timber, but noisome housemates. We 
 had cheaper floors, and beds, and chairs ; but we had, at 
 the same time, tantalizing, bloodsucking bedfellows. 
 From “Norrawa” came our pines and deals in former 
 times. With oak and Norway firs we built our ships; 
 from NorAvay we had our masts and spars. The oak of 
 Old England sustained the shock of the bullets of French 
 and Dutch fleets; but the timber—the pines of Norway, 
 Sweden, and Northern Prussia—had to sustain, in masts, 
 yards, and spars, the shock of tempests. We have useful 
 timber-trees for naval and other purposes from British 
 North America, but none on which we can depend for 
 lasting purposes; the timber is of rapid growth; in 
 twenty years a large tree will grow from the seed of a 
 cone. The pine and firs of America are soft, and easily 
 Avorked by tools ; for a variety of purposes, where duration 
 is not an object, they are extremely handy; they are useful 
 to the trunk-maker, but traitors to the builder. Of pines 
 there are some twenty species; they are mostly all ever¬ 
 greens ; the colder the situation in Avhich they grow, the 
 harder is the timber. Pine trees, slow of groAvth, have 
 been found to be firmer in structure, and more useful in 
 every way to the builder, than pines from Canada or any 
 other country Avhere the tree in a few years attains the 
 proper dimensions for building uses. Of the Pine family 
 there are three genera— Pinus, Abies, and Cedrus, — and 
 among these many species. Pine appears to belong 
 to the northern regions of the globe. Pine we chiefly 
 import, and it is employed to a large extent in 
 house and ship building, for railway purposes, and where- 
 
 M 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 82 
 
 ever logs or planks can be used; it is valued for its 
 durability. Pine, however, must at one time have been 
 plentiful in Ireland; and even now we read that the pine 
 found in the bogs of Ireland is of a very superior quality, 
 and used by the inhabitants for many purposes. We have 
 mentioned the inferior quality of Canadian timber; but 
 while it was protected by high duties levied on foreign 
 timber, it was largely imported and largely consumed for 
 building purposes, naval and civil, with often disastrous 
 results. Sir Robert Seppings, one of the commissioners 
 of H.AI.’s navy, a man of great experience, stated before 
 a Committee of the House of Lords: “ About the year 
 1796, there were a certain number of frigates built of the 
 fir of the Baltic, and their average durability was about 
 eight years. About the year 1812, there was a consider¬ 
 able number of frigates built, also of fir of the growth 
 of North America, and their average durability was not half 
 that time.” He further stated in evidence: “ I believe 
 that the navy has suffered very considerably from the intro¬ 
 duction of Canada timber, or timber of the growth of North 
 America; in consequence, from experience, we have 
 entirely discontinued the use of it, except for deals and 
 masts.” Air. Copland, an extensive builder and timber- 
 merchant, speaking before the same Committee, praised 
 the superior quality of Norwegian, Swedish, Russian, and 
 Prussian timber; and stated of Canadian, that the bulk of 
 it is very inferior in quality and softer in its nature, not 
 so durable, and is very liable to dry rot; indeed, it is not 
 allowed by any professional man under Government to be 
 used, nor is it ever used in the best buildings of London. 
 He added : “ If you were to lay two planks of American 
 timber upon each other, in the course of a twelvemonth 
 they would have the dry-rot, almost invariably, to a certain 
 extent.” This censure applies more directly to the white 
 pine, for the red American pine is allowed to be of 
 a superior quality; and the pine and spruce planks of 
 New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, especially the latter, 
 are universally preferred for the purposes to which they 
 are applied to all other varieties of timber. 
 
 From our North American colonies we import annually, 
 besides pine and fir, considerable quantities of elm, ash, 
 and birch. The elm is a noble forest tree, attains a great 
 size, and lives to a great age. Five species are indigenous 
 to Lngland. An elm was felled in 1745, at the upper 
 end of Church-lane, Chelsea, said to have been planted by 
 Queen Llizabeth. It was thirteen feet in circumference 
 at the bottom, and one hundred and ten feet high. Elm, 
 though a tough and strong timber, is very rarely used for 
 architectural purposes. It is coarse and open in the 
 grain, more especially when it has grown upon very rich 
 land. Elm is chiefly used for coarse purposes—casks, cof¬ 
 fins, wooden presses, pumps, &c. It is a very durable 
 timber when always under water, and hence is well adapted 
 for piles and planking for wet foundations. It was used for 
 the piles upon which old London Bridge stood. The annual 
 importation from North America is about 150,000 cubic feet. 
 
 The importation of ash from the same region is trifling 
 in comparison—perhaps 30,000 cubic feet annually. It is 
 a tree of very rapid growth, and for timber young trees 
 
 are preferred to old. It is chiefly used, on account of its 
 toughness and elasticity, for the spokes of wheels, ship- 
 blocks, the teeth of wheels, &c. It is difficult to work, 
 too flexible for building purposes, and is not durable, 
 being liable to the attack of the worm. 
 
 The birch is largely imported from BritishNorth America, 
 in greater quantities even than red pine. On the average, 
 we import about 350,000 cubic feet of birch annually. 
 The birch delights in a wet soil by the banks of rivers. 
 According to Vitruvius, it furnished the material for the 
 piles upon which the buildings of Ravenna stand. In a 
 dry situation it is unfit for employment, on account of its 
 early rot when exposed to the weather or to mere damp, 
 and its susceptibility of engendering worms. Evelyn says 
 that it was used for the piles upon which the celebrated 
 bridge of the Rialto at Venice was founded in 1591. 
 Birch is excellent wood for the turner. It is sometimes 
 used in the manufacture of herring-barrels. 
 
 (To be continued.) 
 
 OUR SOLDIERS' 1IOA1ES. 
 
 It is impossible to deny that this present—the Victorian 
 Age—is an age of wonderful inconsistency and contradic¬ 
 tion. We demand virtues in others which we do not our¬ 
 selves possess, and teach that which we do not ourselves 
 practise. Just at present we are going to ask the inhabi¬ 
 tants of the various towns and villages situated on the 
 banks of the Thames above London to be good enough 
 not to deposit their sewage in the river, because we think, 
 and very properly think, that such a practice is in its 
 results very injurious to our health; but then we of the 
 metropolis have for some time past been engaged in the 
 construction of immense works whose sole object is the 
 collection of the whole of the sewage of a vast and densely 
 populated area, and its deposition in the same river 
 Thames—at a point where, it is hoped, it will no longer 
 prove offensive to us. There is a good deal said and read 
 about the improvement of the dwellings of the lower 
 classes, but there is no point within the limits of London 
 that is more than five minutes’ walk from a street, court, 
 or alley of the foulest, tumble-down, ill-smelling, unventi¬ 
 lated, and over-crowded dens that it is possible to con¬ 
 ceive of. But it is not these that we propose at present 
 to consider; we must return to them at another time. 
 Our object now is to place before our readers some of the 
 conditions under which the British soldier is housed iu 
 England in the Victorian Age—the age of sanitary lectures, 
 and in the presence of Commissions and reports specially 
 directed to the sanitary state of barracks in the United 
 Kingdom. 
 
 Some seven or eight years ago a committee was ap¬ 
 pointed by Lord Panmure to consider the subject of the 
 barrack accommodation which should in future be pro¬ 
 vided for the army; and in the course of their inquiries 
 they learnt that the accommodation then provided in 
 barracks was generally inadequate both for the comfort 
 and convenience of the soldiers, and for the creation of a 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 higher tone of social habits amongst them; and while 
 fully recognising the necessity of an economical expendi¬ 
 ture of the public money, they expressed a decided 
 opinion that considerations of economy should not be 
 allowed to overbear the demands of a sanitary and moral 
 character, the importance of which, they said, is being 
 every day more fully recognised and acted upon in refe¬ 
 rence to the class of society from which the privates of 
 the army are generally recruited, and especially at a time 
 when large sums ai’e spent in the improvement of gaols 
 and other correctional establishments. 
 
 After taking a large amount of evidence on the subject, 
 the committee agreed to a report, in which they laid down 
 the amount and nature of the accommodation which, in 
 their opinion, should be provided in a barrack calculated 
 for the reception of a thousand men of infantry, and also 
 in one intended for a regiment of cavalry, and then pro¬ 
 posed that a competition should be opened for architects 
 to submit designs, embodying their recommendations. 
 For each of these barracks they suggested that a sum of 
 money should be placed at their disposal to enable them 
 to offer for the approved designs premiums large enough 
 to attract the attention and induce the competition of 
 architects of skill and eminence, and proposed that the 
 architect whose plans should be selected as being first in 
 point of merit should be entrusted with the execution of 
 his design. Agreeably with this recommendation, archi¬ 
 tects were invited to furnish designs; many did so at an 
 enormous aggregate cost; the wdiole of the designs were 
 publicly exhibited; the prizes were awarded ; and for any¬ 
 thing we know to the contrary, the selected designs were 
 at once packed up and stored away, and that was the end 
 and result of the famous barrack competition. 
 
 Shortly after the Report of the Royal Commission on 
 the Sanitary State of the Army w T as presented, a Com¬ 
 mission was appointed to examine and inquire into the 
 sanitary condition of all barracks and military hospitals in 
 the United Kingdom as regards their position, neighbour¬ 
 hood, construction, drainage, water-supply, lavatories, &c., 
 laundries, baths, kitchens, means of lighting, warming, 
 ventilation, and the amount and character of the accom¬ 
 modation provided for the families of married soldiers. 
 The Commission had also power to order works of im¬ 
 provement and cleansing in each barrack to the extent of 
 100 1. With regard to any works which would exceed that 
 limit, the Commission were to report to the Secretary of 
 State as to the sum actually required. Many works were 
 executed under the direction of the Commission; but the 
 radically defective state of the barrack-buildings, and the 
 consequent large outlay required to convert them into proper 
 habitations, was a fatal obstacle to any general improve¬ 
 ment in the construction and planning of those structures. 
 
 We have yet to show those who regard but the trim and 
 orderly appearance of a company under arms in what 
 homes they are forced to live, but return for a moment 
 to the report of the previous Commission, which shows 
 that the army was then subject to an excess of mortality 
 over and above that prevailing among males in civil life. 
 The annual deaths among all arms of the service on home 
 
 stations was stated to be 17"5 per 1000 per annum, as 
 against 9‘2 per 1000, which represent the annual deaths 
 among males of the same ages taken over the town 
 and country population of England and Wales. An 
 analysis of the diseases which had led to this high rate of 
 mortality demonstrated that the excess of deaths was due 
 almost entirely to zymotic diseases, such as fevers, cholera, 
 diarrhoea, and to chest and tubercular diseases, such as 
 consumption, &c. Seven-ninths of the entire mortality 
 among the infantry of the line were found to have arisen 
 from these two classes of diseases; and for each class the 
 mortality among the infantry was shown to be more than 
 double what it is among males of the same ages in civil life. 
 
 Briefly, the causes of this frightful mortality are to be 
 found in impure air and impure water. 
 
 A regiment and a half of soldiers in the United 
 Kingdom live and sleep, as we have elsewhere shown, in 
 ill-ventilated apartments, with no more cubic space, and 
 sometimes much less, than nine men would have in a room 
 15 feet square and 10 feet high; such a room would 
 give 250 cubic feet of space to each man, an amount of 
 space that would be somewhat exceeded by a box 7 feet 
 long, 6 feet wide, and 6 feet high; 1385 soldiers thus live 
 and sleep in barrack-rooms; 15,195 men have less than 
 350 cubic feet; 84,882 men have less than 400 cubic feet 
 each; 65,271 men have less than 500 cubic feet per man; 
 and out of a force of 76,813 men, for whom sleeping ac¬ 
 commodation is provided, there are only 4656 men with 
 sleeping-room exceeding 550 cubic feet each, and only 
 2003 men have an allowance of space exceeding 600 cubic 
 feet; but even this excess is obtained under very unfa¬ 
 vourable conditions; and the reader must bear in mind 
 that 600 cubic feet is the very lowest amount of space that 
 should be given to each man in barracks; in hospitals 
 1200 or 1400 cubic are necessary to ensure a healthy state 
 of the air. 
 
 To make matters worse, this overcrowding is not in well- 
 planned, ventilated, and cheerful rooms, but in ill-planned 
 rooms, with defective light and no ventilation, in rooms 
 where the very walls and furniture reek with foul deposits 
 of putrescent organic matter exhaled from the lungs and 
 skin of the men (we will not refer more particularly to the 
 inevitable tubs), readily detected by the sense of smell in 
 crowded rooms, and especially in any foul air-flues con¬ 
 nected with such rooms. This matter attaches itself to 
 furniture, bedding, floors, walls, and ceilings, which in 
 time it saturates, and can be scraped off and examined : 
 of course, rooms in this condition cannot be effectually 
 purified. Plaster absorbs organic matter, and by this 
 means for some time an unventilated room is kept tole¬ 
 rably healthy; but when, as it does, the plaster becomes 
 saturated, the deposit is on the surface, that absorbed 
 becomes putrid, and the room a hot-bed for the growth of 
 disease; yet soldiers live, sleep, and eat in such rooms— 
 until they go into hospital. 
 
 Taking 600 cubic feet of air as the least amount that 
 should be allotted to each man, the deficiency of proper 
 barrack accommodation amounts to over 32 per cent., so 
 that we have houses for two-thirds only of our army at 
 
 m 2 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 81 
 
 home, the remaining third being huddled together 
 wherever they can be crowded. Chatham Recruiting 
 Barracks exhibit, perhaps, the worst cases of overcrowding, 
 the space allotted to 100 men being no more than suffi¬ 
 cient for 57 ! As it is a recruiting barrack, young soldiers 
 do not remain more than a few months in it, but its in¬ 
 mates are less healthy than the civil male population at 
 the same ages; catarrhal, pulmonary, and zymotic diseases 
 are the chief causes of sickness at Chatham garrison. 
 During the years 1851-57, 66 per cent, of the deaths arose 
 from consumption, fever, cholera, dysentery, and diarrhoea. 
 In these barracks there are eight rooms containing 104 men, 
 with 247 cubic feet of space per man ; fifty-six rooms con¬ 
 tain 896 men, with 345 cubic feet each; fifty-four rooms 
 contain 864 men, with 281 cubic feet each; sixteen rooms 
 contain 256 men at 285 feet each ; and twenty rooms con¬ 
 tain 320 men, who have each 275 cubic feet of space; 
 altogether 1128 men are by regulation crowded into a 
 space sufficient for 600 only. The deficiency of accom¬ 
 modation is least at Woolwich, where 100 men have space 
 sufficient for 79. 
 
 The following table is given to show the deficiency of 
 barrack accommodation at the principal stations in the 
 United Kingdom:— 
 
 Station. Deficiency per Cent. 
 
 Chatham.43'4 
 
 Kilkenny and Birr.40 
 
 Dover.37' 
 
 Winchester.36'6 
 
 Dublin.33 - 
 
 Canterbury.32'5 
 
 Fermoy.32'4 
 
 Athlone.3D 
 
 Portsmouth.30' 
 
 Limerick...29' 
 
 Plymouth and Devonport.27' 
 
 Cork.26'6 
 
 London.25'7 
 
 Manchester District.24'6 
 
 Woolwich. t . 2P6 
 
 It may be well here to note the usual routine of a 
 soldier’s life in barracks. He rises at five o’clock in 
 summer and at six o’clock in winter; at nine he break¬ 
 fasts, still in his sleeping-room, crowded as we have shown 
 them to be; supposing it to be a wet morning, he must 
 remain in the same room until parade, which lasts from 
 about ten to eleven o’clock; if there is no extraordinary 
 drill after parade, he must either remain in the open air 
 or return to his bedroom until dinner-time; he has his 
 dinner in his bed-room, and may remain there the rest of 
 the day. In fact, from the time he gets up till he goes to 
 bed, with the exception of the time during which he is on 
 duty, he has but one room—that in which he has passed 
 the night—to go to. 
 
 Having endeavoured to convey some idea of the over¬ 
 crowded state of our barracks, which, as stated above, do 
 not contain well-planned, ventilated, and cheerful rooms, 
 we will now see in what kind of buildings it is that nearly 
 77,000 men are compelled to live; and unfortunately we 
 shall have to show that, as regards the neighbourhood 
 of almost every barrack, its construction, ventilation, 
 warming, drainage, water-supply, ablution, and cooking 
 
 accommodation, they are as ill-arranged and as defective 
 as it is possible for them to be. 
 
 The greater number of barracks inspected by the Royal 
 Commission were reported by them to be situated in the 
 suburbs of towns, in positions hardly any of which could 
 be said to be unhealthy, while very many of them could 
 not be described as otherwise than healthy. Generally 
 they are somewhat elevated above the neighbouring levels, 
 with sufficient fall for drainage, and sometimes they occupy 
 lofty eminences fully exposed to the winds. These favour¬ 
 able conditions are, however, not those in which barracks 
 in large towns, as London, Portsmouth, Glasgow, Devon¬ 
 port, Alanchester, Dublin, Limerick, or Birmingham are 
 found. And in too many instances, barracks which occupy 
 what was once a healthy position, have been rendered un¬ 
 healthy by the erection in their immediate neighbourhood 
 of streets of houses occupied by the very lowest orders, 
 and a certain class who live only in garrison towns. 
 
 Around many town barracks the neighbourhood abounds 
 in nuisances; the closets of adjoining houses have been 
 built up close to the barrack-rooms, high boundary walls 
 obstruct the free circulation of air, and close to Piershill 
 Barrack, Edinburgh, the meadows are systematically irri¬ 
 gated by the sewage of the town. The Guards’ Recruiting 
 Barrack at Croydon is situated in a damp hollow, and ex¬ 
 posed to winds passing over wet land, a manure manu¬ 
 factory, and pigsties. The building itself was originally 
 used as stables, and scarlet and typhoid fevers have re¬ 
 peatedly prevailed among the recruits. Tilbury Fort is 
 situated in a wet, undrained, marshy district, and when¬ 
 ever it is occupied, a large proportion of the men suffer 
 from intermittent fever, which, when once implanted in 
 the constitution, is one of those diseases most injurious to 
 the efficiency of an army, on account of the frequency 
 with which the disease recurs, even from trivial exciting 
 causes. It is common among the men of the Royal 
 Artillery stationed along the banks of the Thames, no 
 fewer than 120 cases per annum having been received 
 into AVoolwich Garrison Hospital from these localities. 
 Sbeerness is the site of one of our most important naval 
 arsenals and dockyards, and is generally garrisoned by 
 from 700 to 800 men; its position is most unhealthy, 
 from the vicinity of marshes and undrained land. The 
 town itself lies low, and until lately was entirely without 
 drainage or proper water-supply; the sewage was received 
 into cesspools, and the entire supply of water for the town 
 was derived from two wells, into which sewage matter 
 escaped from the saturated soil. It cannot be matter for 
 surprise that as these evils are still but partially remedied, 
 the average annual admissions into hospital at Sheerness 
 from ague for three years have amounted to 125 per 1000 
 strength, while the usual proportion of admissions from 
 this disease in the cavalry regiments is 0'55, and in the 
 infantry 2'74 per 1000 strength. 
 
 Errors which render it practically impossible for bar¬ 
 racks to be healthy are also observable in the general 
 arrangement or block plans. There is a want of simplicity 
 in the plans ; lofty buildings are erected close together, or 
 round closed courts, or with deep closed angles; barrack- 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 rooms are built too close to boundary walls, the space 
 between the rooms and the wall being-occupied by latrines, 
 ash-pits, &c.; and almost everywhere is the great fault of 
 concentrating many rooms under one roof, instead of 
 spreading the buildings over the ground in detached blocks 
 of moderate size. These defects are of the utmost im¬ 
 portance, as they all tend to prevent the first essential of 
 a healthy dwelling—a free circulation of air both within 
 and without the walls. Instances of these defects are to 
 be found in many barracks ; St. George’s Barrack, near 
 the National Gallery, consists of a large single block of 
 buildings for 476 men; it is enclosed within lofty walls, 
 and the air is at all ordinary times stagnant within the 
 boundary walls. Hyde Park Cavalry Barracks consist of 
 fourteen blocks of buildings on a long, narrow strip of 
 ground, and so disposed as to form a large court, in which 
 it is almost impossible to have a free circulation of air. If 
 these barracks were fully occupied, the density of popu¬ 
 lation would equal 114,500 per square mile, exclusive of 
 women, children, and horses; there are no back premises, 
 and the refuse and manure are piled up under the windows 
 of the barrack-rooms, which are over the stables ; the whole 
 place smells of ammonia, and the Commissioners, in their 
 report, described this as one of the worst cavalry barracks 
 in the United Kingdom; its arrangement, too, is such 
 that it does not admit of material improvement. 
 
 Passing across St. James’s Park, to the Wellington 
 Barracks, which contain regulation space for 1530 men, 
 giving a density of 326,000 inhabitants per square mile 
 for the built area, being nearly double that of East London, 
 one of the most densely populated town districts in Eng¬ 
 land, the blocks of buildings will be found to be arranged 
 in the “ higgledy-piggledy” style, and in such a manner 
 that proper ventilation is impossible. At Portsmouth 
 Clarence Barracks, the buildings entirely sm-roimd two 
 closed courts; they are intended to hold 912 men; and 
 the population is equal to 330,000 persons to the square 
 mile. The barracks at Galway are imbedded among 
 buildings of the civil population; but if erected on 
 Salisbury Plain, their plans are so crowded and defective, 
 that they could not be otherwise than unhealthy, with 
 their small narrow courts enclosed by high buildings, and 
 destitute of light and fresh air. Even worse than the 
 Wellington Barracks arc the Royal Barracks at Dublin, in 
 which there is regulation space for 1917 men : there are 
 narrow, dark lanes between lofty three and four story 
 buildings, the ground rises rapidly behind the barracks, 
 and the men’s rooms on three sides of the cavalry square 
 are over the stables ; the barrack rooms in the two largest 
 squares have windows to the outer air only at the back, 
 the side next the court being occupied by long corridors; 
 in these barracks there are rooms in the corners and lower 
 flats of the squares, dark and incapable of ventilation. 
 Linen Hall Barrack, also in Dublin, was an old linen hall; 
 it was leased by the War Department as a temporary 
 reserve barrack, and is enclosed among civil dwellings in 
 one of the worst districts of the city. It has seven or eight 
 small, dark, enclosed courts, and is intended to accom¬ 
 modate 1094 non-commissioned officers and men on an 
 
 85 
 
 area of rather over two acres. Ilulm Cavalry Barracks are 
 instanced to illustrate the injurious consequences of 
 building barracks too close to the boundary walls. The 
 men’s rooms are over the stables, and behind them is a 
 narrow strip of ground, affording no adequate means either 
 for cleanliness or for circulation of air between the bar¬ 
 racks and the wall; outside the boundary, on one side, is 
 a lofty cotton mill, which shuts off the ventilation in that 
 direction; and on the other side is a closely-peopled 
 district of houses, the closets and outbuildings of which 
 come close up to the boundary walls, so that at certain 
 times the smell pervades the barrack-rooms. 
 
 Leaving the defects of the general grouping of barrack- 
 buildings for a time, we will enter the buildings and see 
 whether the internal planning tends to nullify or to assist 
 the death-promoting arrangements of the block plan. 
 Unhappily, so far from an improved system being observ¬ 
 able, matters are even worse, if possible, in-doors; large 
 and small barrack-rooms are placed back to back in long 
 rows, end to end, so that windows can be obtained on one 
 side only; long corridors run throughout a building, 
 either dark and unventilated, between rows of rooms, or 
 covering one external side of a single range of rooms—as 
 in the Royal Barracks at Dublin—or the rooms are dark 
 or damp, or unventilated—everywhere there is one or 
 more conditions prejudicial to health. In the Wellington 
 Barracks, in the barracks in the Tower, at the new Cam¬ 
 bridge Barracks, Portsmouth, and at Woolwich, the rooms 
 are placed back to back. In such rooms, when occupied 
 as these are, it is impossible to secure a circulation of air, 
 and to prevent its partial if not entire stagnation. So 
 little have these simple matters been understood, that, 
 knowing the evil, it has been the practice in many bar¬ 
 racks where the defect exists to make an opening through 
 the walls dividing the rooms: the only apparent result, 
 however, has been a more effectual mingling of the foul 
 air in adjoining rooms than was formerly effected by the 
 opening of the doors on to an unventilated common stair¬ 
 case. Again, in some cases, as in the new Raglan Bar¬ 
 racks at Devonport, and in the new infantry barracks at 
 Aldershott, the evil has been seen, but not so the remedy; 
 for while windows have been placed in opposite walls, it 
 has been in the end instead of in the side walls, so that 
 the rooms being long and narrow, the distance between 
 the windows has been too great, and the rooms are still 
 deficient in light and in ventilation. 
 
 Perhaps no finer and more healthy site could be found 
 for a barrack than that occupied by the new barracks in 
 Edinburgh Castle; therefore—really it would almost seem 
 so—one of the very worst barracks we have has been 
 erected on it. It has a long internal corridor (somewhat 
 of this shape H — H )> with two short corridors side by 
 side, at right angles to the longer corridor, in the 
 centre, leading to the staircases. Around each side of these 
 corridors, are ranged rooms. The long central corridor 
 has no direct light, and is dark and gloomy, each end 
 being closed by doors. It serves admirably as a dark 
 tunnel of foul air, by which the atmosphere in the whole 
 of the rooms is kept in an equal state of unhealthiness. 
 
86 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Besides tliis, six of the lower barrack-rooms derive all the 
 light and ventilation they have from deep-sunk areas. Of 
 course, notwithstanding its healthy position, the barrack 
 is unhealthy, and furnishes a large mortality from con¬ 
 sumption and fever; troops stationed in it are more than 
 usually liable to attacks of small-pox. At Brighton in¬ 
 fantry and some other barracks, it would seem that the 
 necessity for providing means of access to the upper floors 
 did not occur to those engaged in their erection until the 
 work was finished, for we find narrow, incommodious 
 staircases boxed off from the rooms, blocking up windows 
 aud obstructing light and ventilation. Underground bar¬ 
 rack-rooms are not unknown; they occur at Woolwich, 
 Waterford, Edinburgh, and in the new barracks at Gos¬ 
 port. The designers would scarcely contend that rooms 
 below the ground level can be made healthy dwellings. 
 Linen Hall Barrack, before referred to, contains 128 
 rooms, or cells, without sufficient light or ventilation, the 
 whole internal arrangement being of the most complicated 
 character. There are only five fireplaces in the whole 
 building, and there is no fireplace whatever in the hospital. 
 Stoves are placed in the passages, and they are so con¬ 
 structed that they fill the rooms and passages with smoke. 
 This is an instance of buildings erected for other pur¬ 
 poses being converted into barracks, and is not a solitary 
 example. In the same city, Dublin, Arbour-hill Barrack 
 was once a prison, and as such was not fit for prisoners. 
 It now accommodates ninety-one men. No inspector of 
 prisons would sanction its conversion to its former use. 
 Fort Elizabeth, at Cork, was a French prison ; it is now 
 intended for 180 men, but is not good enough to serve its 
 former purpose. At Stirling Castle the old halls of the 
 palace have been converted into barrack-rooms, by con¬ 
 structing galleries round the walls to accommodate two 
 tiers of men, one on the floor and the other on the gallery, 
 where they lie as if packed away on a shelf above the tops 
 of the windows, so that the only air they have to breathe, 
 there being no outlet from the ceiling, is that which rises 
 after having been exhaled by the tier of men below. At 
 Perth, a manufactory has been easily converted into a 
 barrack, by simply placing some bedsteads on the floor. 
 
 ith regard to everything else necessary, there is “ entire 
 deficiency/’ These are some of the defects which charac¬ 
 terize by far the larger proportion of barracks in the 
 United Kingdom, as regards the internal planning; and 
 we cannot but agree with the Boyal Commissioners, who 
 considered that the defective plan and structure of bar¬ 
 racks all proceeded from one cause—namely, that nobody 
 seems to have considered what conditions are required for 
 preserving the healthiness of a building in which a number 
 of adults must necessarily be massed together within a 
 circumscribed space, and, consequently, no intelligent, 
 uniform plan of constructing barracks has been arrived at; 
 no fundamental principles are recognised as absolutely 
 necessary for health. Some barracks are better than 
 others, and a few are good so far as their general plan is 
 concerned; but these are the exceptions which prove 
 the rule. It does not seem to have been known that the 
 block plan of a barrack, or indeed any building intended 
 
 to be occupied by a large number of people, should be as 
 simple as possible; that the largest possible proportion of 
 its surface should be exposed to the sun and air, and that 
 there should therefore be no closed court or angles, and 
 that the latrines, &c., should be placed away and entirely 
 detached from the habitable portion of the establishment. 
 
 The non-commissioned officers, and the married men 
 with their wives and children, are numerically classes of 
 considerable importance; yet it is most rare to find any 
 proper or adequate accommodation provided for them in 
 barracks. Generally, privacy is afforded to non-commis¬ 
 sioned officers by boxing off a small portion of the men’s 
 barrack-rooms. The apartment so obtained is called a 
 bunk. It is usually in a corner of the room, and if there 
 happens to be a window there, the bunk is placed before it, 
 and the barrack-room is in that manner in many instances 
 at once deprived of half its light and ventilation; but 
 sometimes, when there is no window that can be appro¬ 
 priated for the purpose, the bunk is dark, and can only 
 exchange air with the barrack-room. 
 
 With regard to married soldiers, the present regulation 
 number is 6 per cent, of the strength, so that every regi¬ 
 ment of 1000 men will have 60 women and probably from 
 70 to SO children with it, and this number excludes women 
 and children of marriages not sanctioned. It is con¬ 
 sidered one of the greatest difficulties in the army at the 
 present time, how to provide quarters for these families, 
 and the difficulty results in a system at once unhealthy 
 and demoralizing to the last degree. If the married 
 men and their families do not, as is often the case, sleep 
 in the men’s barrack-room, they have not generally sepa¬ 
 rate apartments. At Birr Barrack seven rooms were occu¬ 
 pied by 21 men, 21 women, and 33 children; the best 
 screen being a shawl or a coverlid thrown over a cord. 
 This practice may now, or might a short time ago, be seen 
 in the Knightsbridge Barracks. But there are many bar¬ 
 racks w here there is not the shadow of decency preserved, 
 and married people occupy beds in the men’s barrack- 
 room without even an old shawl hung up as a screen. At 
 Chatham Barracks not long since (and there may be now), 
 there was a married man with his wife in every barrack- 
 room among the men; and not unfrequently girls from 
 fourteen to sixteen years of age were thus accommodated. 
 
 It is satisfactory, however, to find, that so far as possible, 
 commanding officers are ready to do what they can to 
 mitigate this evil, which the defective construction of 
 barracks renders impossible to be wdiolly obviated. Govern¬ 
 ment now provides a specific sum for providing separate 
 quarters for married men whose pay will not admit of their 
 hiring lodgings; and at least one prominent defect in our 
 barrack system seems to stand some chance of amelio¬ 
 ration. 
 
 No system of ventilation would stand a chance of puri¬ 
 fying and making wKolesome the air within such buildings 
 as we have described; the most that could be expected 
 would be less vitiated air. But even this little has been 
 denied to the barrack population, for so late as last year, 
 in 83 barracks, containing 3130 rooms and 42,521 men, 
 with from 200 to 400, 500, and in a very few rooms only 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 87 
 
 600 cubic feet per man, no means of ventilation whatever 
 had been introduced; and in 78 barracks, containing 
 2237 rooms and 33,601 men, with 230 cubic feet per man 
 and upwards, ventilating arrangements exhibiting all 
 stages of imperfection and inefficiency had been provided. 
 Staircases and passages have received no attention what¬ 
 ever as regards ventilation. 
 
 As pure air has almost ceased to find its way into 
 barracks, except to be instantly polluted, so water is not 
 obtainable in a large number of barracks in a condition 
 fitted for consumption by human beings. Most barracks 
 are supplied by wells, generally from twenty to fifty or 
 sixty feet deep; there are some deeper borings, but 
 “ shallow wells” ai'e bv far the more common ; and as in 
 the majority of barracks the drainage, if there be any, is 
 most defective, the wells and underground tanks into 
 which rain water is conveyed are polluted by infiltration 
 from the subsoil, of water charged with impurities of cess¬ 
 pools, manure heaps, ash-pits, and of the subsoil itself. 
 In most instances the water drawn from barrack wells 
 and tanks contain numerous filaments of organic matter 
 visible to the naked eye. At Brompton Barracks the 
 tank is placed within a few feet of the closets, and the 
 water is strongly impregnated with sewage matter. In 
 the military hospital at the Tower, not long since, the 
 only supply to the kitchen was taken directly from the 
 Thames where it passes the Tower. We know very well 
 what has been the result of drinking impure water to 
 entire districts, and if there were no other defects calcu¬ 
 lated to predispose to disease, we could not expect to find 
 the army in a satisfactory sanitary condition so long as 
 there is not an abundance of pure water. 
 
 One evil leads to another, and bad drainage is the 
 primary cause of polluted water. The most perfect system 
 of drainage employed, until very lately, provided only for 
 the removal of rainfall and water from washhouses and 
 ablution rooms. Privy drainage is almost unknown; 
 large and deep ash-pits and manure heaps have no escape 
 for the foul water, except into the soil, which soon becomes 
 putrid, and exhales unwholesome effluvia. In cavalry 
 barracks the cesspool and dung-heap are often together, 
 and a process of mixing up the various kinds of manure is 
 not unfrequently carried on hy the contractor close to the 
 men’s rooms. At Brighton, the cesspool is emptied only 
 at an interval of years, while at Aldershott, Chatham hut- 
 harraeks, and Colchester, the excreta are frequently col¬ 
 lected and removed in trucks and tubs, rendering the 
 neighbourhood at the time quite unbearable. There 
 appears to be no good system anywhere; every kind of 
 plan for the building and rooms is adopted but the right 
 one, and throughout the entire history of barrack accom¬ 
 modation it would really seem that the greatest trouble 
 has been taken to secure and perpetuate bad arrange¬ 
 ments. 
 
 We must defer for a future article a consideration of 
 some other defects of our barrack accommodation, which 
 are not yet all enumerated, and of the means that should 
 be adopted to avoid the same defects in the new barracks, 
 which, as we have shown, it has become a duty to provide 
 
 for the large number of soldiers who are quartered where 
 there is no room for them, not only to their own injury, 
 but also to the injury, as regards health, of the entire 
 armv. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NEW VESTRY HALL, PICCADILLY. 
 
 Plates I. and II. 
 
 The building, of which we give the elevation and details in these 
 plates, and which is now nearly complete, has been erected by the 
 Vestry of St. James’s, Westminster, for the purpose of concentrating 
 the various offices of the parish in one convenient locality. Little 
 attempt has been made at grandeur; but in turning a very limited 
 space of ground to the best advantage, and affording facilities for the 
 transaction of the varied and extensive business of the parish on one 
 spot, the building may be regarded as a success, the offices being well 
 apportioned, elegant, and convenient. 
 
 We are informed by the architect that the style is not pre¬ 
 cisely that which he would have preferred; but that he was limited 
 in his selection by the condition that the building, when erected, must 
 harmonize with the church and parsouage-house. This also put a 
 limitation not simply upon his design, which was originally Gothic, 
 but also necessitated the employment of the present materials, which 
 are red brick and Portland stone. The only scope presented for dis¬ 
 play in the exterior was a bold rendering of the mouldings, and an 
 enrichment of the doorway and pediments with suitable decorations, 
 such as the Westminster Court of Arms, Ac. Ac., especially avoiding 
 what is common-place or inappropriate to a semi-public building, the 
 offices being for the use of a portion of the public only. The same prin¬ 
 ciples have been observed, in execution of the boundary or fence wall 
 and gateway to the churchyard. It will be observed in all these 
 works that the question of durability has been kept constantly in view, 
 to the exclusion of what may be termed “ prettiness.” The first cost 
 of the works is therefore the last, as the premises will rather improve 
 than deteriorate with age. What the architect has attempted is to display 
 as much ingenuity and taste in the details as the nature of the build¬ 
 ing would permit, without descending to the outre or grotesque. 
 
 The Church that is shown in our illustration, adjoining the building, 
 is that of St. James’s, Westminster. It stands on the south side of 
 Piccadilly, and was built by Wren in J.684. Although not one of the 
 best of his London churches, it is well worth visiting by any one inte¬ 
 rested in the culture of ecclesiastical architecture. It contains, besides 
 other objects of interest, a magnificent piece of carved foliage over the 
 altar, and marble font by Grinling Gibbons, and a painted window by 
 Waites, of Newcastle, which was added in 1848. 
 
 The Vestry Hall was built, as before observed, for the purpose of 
 concentrating in one spot the whole of the parochial business. Hence 
 accommodation is provided for the St. James’s Savings’ Bank, the 
 rate-collectors, general vestry, surveyor’s offices, vestry clerk, com¬ 
 mittee room, housekeeper, Ac. Ac., with every convenience suitable 
 for their numerous occupations. The whole building is well ventilated, 
 and the very best materials have been used throughout. 
 
 The original site for the building was especially circumscribed, and 
 the architect had the additional disadvantage of being compelled to 
 build upon a previously defined foundation, to which the new edifice 
 had to be adapted. The consequence is, although the most has been 
 made of the available space, the plan cannot be taken as a specimen 
 for guidance elsewhere. The merit of the building is in being solid, 
 substantial, and convenient. 
 
 The Vestry Hall has been built from the designs and under the 
 superintendence of Mr. Albert P. Howell, by Messrs. Mansfield, of 
 Gray’s Inn-lane; Mr. George Cleverley, clerk of the works. The 
 various works in marble have been executed and supplied by Messrs. 
 Edwards, of Regent-street, but through Messrs. Mansfield. The 
 whole is most substantially done, and the cost will probably be, in¬ 
 cluding everything, about 650(V. 
 
 The first of the large .plate-bending machines for preparing and bend¬ 
 ing the armour-plates for the iron steamer Achilles, 50, by means of 
 hydraulic pressure, has been erected at Chatham dockyard, in the 
 factory adjoining the dock in which the iron frigate is building. The 
 plates are to be bent cold. 
 
88 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF TIIE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 THE BUILDING, Nos. 28 & 29, UNION-STREET, 
 BIRMINGHAM. 
 
 Plates III. & IY. 
 
 This is a bold and elegant building. The style is Gothic, adapted 
 to the requirements and tastes of the present day The materials 
 are bricks, principally white, from Diseworth, in Leicestershire, and 
 both Hollington and Bath stone, the former being used in the base¬ 
 ment. and the latter in the upper stories. Coloured bricks are also 
 sparingly introduced for decorative purposes, and Minton’s encaustic 
 tiles appear in the strings and architraves. 
 
 The principal front of the building measures 50 feet, and the height 
 is about the same. The extreme depth extends to 95 feet, but the 
 return-front is only 35 feet in width. Each shop-window measures 
 17 feet 6 inches in span. In designing these windows, the segmental 
 arch has been adopted solely with the view to provide as large an open 
 space as possible for the display of goods. These arches are constructed 
 in the following manner: each springer fits into a cast-iron shoe, the 
 back of which is carried to the full height of the springer: and a bar 
 of wrought-iron passes through the base of each shoe, and, being 
 counter-wedged at the back of each springer, connects the opposite 
 springers like the string of a bow. The elevation and plan of these 
 springers, and the design of the tile string-course, are shown in 
 Nos. 1, 2, and 5, Plate IV. The arches of the two shop-windows, 
 and of the intervening door-way, support the whole weight of the 
 superincumbent building, the floors of which are constantly heavily 
 loaded with goods; but not even the slightest variation has taken place 
 in the form of the arches since the original removal of the centres, 
 when a subsidence of one-sixteenth of an inch was observed. As the 
 tie is of wrought-iron, and as the windows themselves are not in any 
 way encumbered with wood dressings, this style of construction may 
 fairly be considered fire-proof. 
 
 The jambs and arch-mouldings to the windows on the first floor are 
 all of brick, the shafts being of stone. The elevation and the plan 
 of the central window of this group are given in Nos. 3 and 4 of 
 Plate IV. The same principle of decorative construction prevails 
 throughout the design. 
 
 The cornice carries the water from the roof in a continuous gutter, 
 into which it is conveyed by short down-rights from the parapet. This 
 arrangement obviates the necessity for cutting up the fronts with the 
 down-spouts, several of which would have been required in consequence 
 of the dormer-windows. 
 
 The interior of the building is constructed, fitted, and decorated in 
 exact conformity with the style of its external architecture, the whole 
 having been designed by the architect and produced under his direc¬ 
 tion. The floors are carried by cast-iron columns, designed with a 
 special view to the particular purpose to which they are applied. 
 The walls and ceilings are boarded. The walls of the principal stair¬ 
 case are ot brick and stone, inlaid with encaustic tiles. The eleva¬ 
 tion of the arcade on this staircase is shown in Plate IV., No. 6. 
 One room only is decorated with colour. Throughout the rest of the 
 interior the iron-work is painted in two plain colours, and the wood¬ 
 work is varnished. 
 
 I he cost of this building, without the fixtures, was about 4000?. 
 The architect was John Henry Chamberlain, Esq., of Birmingham, 
 now Professor of Architecture at Queen’s College in that town. The 
 builders were Messrs. Barnsley, and the decorative painting was exe¬ 
 cuted by Mr. Whitworth, all of them also of Birmingham. The 
 carving was by Mr. S. Barfield, of Leicester. 
 
 The building is a completely successful example of the happy appli¬ 
 cability of its style to the Commercial Architecture of the Victorian 
 Age, and throughout it reflects the utmost credit upon all who took 
 any part in producing it. 
 
 Antiquarian Discovery at Chester.— While digging the 
 foundations for some new houses to be erected in Eaton-road, Mr. 
 Hitchen’s workmen discovered a leaden cylinder, which, on bein°' 
 opened, was found to contain burnt human bones. This interesting 
 mortuary receptacle is 7^ inches in diameter, and 18 inches in height. 
 The bottom is half an inch in thickness. No solder has been used in 
 its construction, the metal having been welded together, and the top 
 closed in by forcing it together from the four sides. The inetal is of 
 superior quality; and notwithstanding the ages it has been in the 
 ground, there is no sign of corrosion about it. The vessel is supposed 
 to be of Roman date. 
 
 SCULPTURE IN THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITON. 
 
 Sculpture has always held an inferior position to painting in the 
 estimation of the British public. The Royal Academy, in its annual 
 exhibition of works of art, filling its saloons with pictures, apportions 
 only a single dim apartment to statuary. Of the many thousands of 
 persons who crowd its galleries, very few are found to devote attention 
 to the latter; the majority content themselves with a lounge and a 
 listless gaze after many weary hours devoted to the former. Sculpture 
 is deemed to be more technical and less comprehensible. Mere popu¬ 
 larity, however, is a poor and inefficient test of merit. Whilst the 
 merest accident often arouses public attention to some work of art, it 
 is as often to what is meretricious and showy as to real excellence. 
 Hence an aesthetic education and training is as essential to a people as 
 intellectual education. A peiception of the beautiful in nature, or its 
 representation by art, no more originates instinctively than scholarship 
 or science. By encouraging the study of drawing—the primary rudi¬ 
 ment of all the fine arts—the Guides of natural progress multiply the 
 numbers of those who, if they cannot attain themselves to the dignity 
 of artists, are able to appreciate the productions of genius. It is thus 
 that our Schools of Design, now so anxiously fostered by Government, 
 appear to us to afford the best assurance that, whatever may have 
 been our past failure, a worthy and successful national art will at no 
 distant future emerge. Hitherto the bane of modern sculpture has 
 been imitation. The precious relics of Greece, instead of being used 
 legitimately as guides to the study of nature—the source of their 
 excellences—have been either servilely copied or studied as if they, and 
 not nature herself, could furnish a foundation of art. It is not thus 
 with poetry. Every great poet has, directly or indirectly, drunk 
 deeply of the spirit of the ancients; has studied profoundly their 
 approximation or departure from the great standard,—natural truth and 
 beauty,—but only to kindle his emotions to awake into life and energy 
 his own aspirations, and to serve as a rule to his artistic creations. 
 Cupids and Venuses, Mercury, Mars, and the whole host of the 
 mythological hierarchy, are banished for ever from verse. Why should 
 they be eternally repeated in marble ? The aesthetic character of the 
 ancient sculptures was perfect; but the sense of beauty, and the love 
 of it in the people of Greece, was not the only sentiment which com¬ 
 mended those works of art to their estimation. There was also the 
 religious element. Faith—that is, a heartfelt conviction of the exis¬ 
 tence and reality of the beings represented—strange to say, had no 
 existence in the ancient mind. But the nearest approach to it, and in 
 a measure a substitute for it, when in nature’s deepest needs, the 
 popular deities were evoked in the presence of the marvellous crea¬ 
 tions of the chisel, with which they were familiar. When the suffering 
 matron, seeking from without, help in her pangs, called on Juno 
 Lucina, she must have imagined, if not almost felt assured, that the 
 calm and dignified form of the goddess, familiar, to her in the temple 
 or market-place, must either be, or closely and accurately represent, a 
 living power able to hear and willing to aid her. When the soldier 
 in the presence of danger sought the protection of Mars, or Minerva, 
 the statues he had visited before entering upon the campaign would 
 present themselves to his imagination, and must have been confused 
 with their real presence. 
 
 We conceive that the creations of the poets, embodied in marble by 
 the wondrous skill of the ancient sculptor, were accepted, and received 
 the homage of the multitudes more from the religious sentiment, as it 
 existed in minds destitute of a true faith, and totally in the dark on 
 spiritual matters, than from their {esthetic culture. 
 
 But in modern times, and wherever Christianity has shed its light, 
 the artist can hope for no such extrinsic aid to the appreciation of his 
 creations. His Venuses and Cupids, Junos and Minervas, must be 
 regarded simply in an aesthetic point of view. He may deserve all 
 praise for his mechanical skill, his perception of the special beauty of 
 the abstraction, but beyond this his work excites no interest, far less 
 enthusiasm. Why, then, does he go on eternally repeating these ex¬ 
 hausted ideas ? Does he hope to surpass the ancient attist in his 
 technical qualities ? Alas ! this task is confessedly hopeless. We may 
 admire the Venus Victrix of a Canova, but unfortunately we remember 
 the Medician Venus. What Apollo can rival that of the Vatican ? 
 
 When Michael Angelo found the celebrated Torso, upon which he 
 modelled his style, did he occupy himself with multiplying fragments 
 of a body, or strive to surpass his model in anatomical accuracy, or 
 the expression of muscular force? No; what he did was to imbibe the 
 spirit, not imitate the letter of the ancient artist; and no comparison 
 can be made between the results, the majestic aud appalling statue of 
 Moses and the Torso he so profoundly studied. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 89 
 
 There is, however, a graver mistake in the imitation of the ancients 
 than provoking unfavourable comparisons. It is alluded to by Mr. 
 Palgrave, in his “ Fine Art Catalogue of the Exhibition :—“ Will it 
 not at some time appear one of the strangest of delusions, that a my- 
 thologj', dead for two thousand years, should have been fancied a living 
 interest to the nineteenth century ? There is a little dialogue in 
 Sterne’s novel which dramatically sets forth the attitude of the con¬ 
 noisseur and the common-sense spectator towards ‘ ideal sculpture — 
 ‘There are two Loves:’ said Mr. Shandy, ‘the first, without mother, 
 where Venus had nothing to do; the second, begotten of Jupiter and 
 Dione.’—‘ Pray, brother ,’ quoth my Uncle Toby, ‘ what has a man 
 who believes in God to do with this ?' ” 
 
 The recognition of the spiritual nature of the Divine Being, utterly 
 obliterates every trace of religious sentiment from the productions of 
 the sculptor. The iconoclasts of the earlier ages of Christianity ex¬ 
 pressed this fact in actions. It can never be received among a people 
 to whom this faith is once known, however feebly felt. We may 
 discuss the propriety of the views held by the Roman Catholics re¬ 
 specting their representations of the objects of their worship ; but we 
 cannot, if we have a speck of charity, assimilate them to the ancient 
 adoration of their deities in marble. Representations of prophets and 
 apostles, of the Blessed Virgin, or the Saviour, can only be historic, 
 and referable to one of the categories of art stripped of all religious 
 reverence. Whatever amount of a?sthetic culture a Christian people 
 may possess, it will be insufficient for the creation of a real school of 
 art at once national and worthy of ranking by the side of the ancient. 
 Other conditions must be sought and fulfilled; deeper and more en¬ 
 during feelings must be evoked and gratified. It may be true that 
 
 A tiling of beauty 
 
 Is a joy for ever. 
 
 but in sculpture, a mere appeal to the sense of the beautiful will 
 not ensure success. That some such need of an extrinsic property is 
 dimly recognised, may be inferred from the great preponderance of 
 nude female figures, whether under the name of Venuses or any other, 
 over every species of ideal figures in every exhibition. We would not 
 lightly bring such a charge against an individual, but we may ask 
 whether, in a general way, this does not furnish a tacit proof of the 
 enlisting of a sentiment too base for expression in plain terms, to im¬ 
 part interest to this branch of art ? 
 
 This we conceive is as unnecessary to this noble art as it is morally 
 wrong. Sculpture is capable of expressing the highest intellectual 
 power conjoined with the purest moral sentiments, of giving exercise 
 to the most exalted imagination and the richest fancy. It may em¬ 
 body and teach the truths, and display the mighty mysteries belonging 
 to our nature as they become recognised by the philosopher, expressed 
 by the poet, or emerge in the progress of our race in civilization and 
 refinement. It may be made to harmonize with any phase of Christi¬ 
 anity; and, like the sister arts of painting and poetry, become one of 
 its preachers and ministers. 
 
 The thoughtful sculptor has only to look at the grounds and means 
 of the success of modern poetry to discover the true direction of his 
 own aims. The intellectual character, the moral and religious life, the 
 cherished domestic and social relations of the English people, must be 
 visibly impressed on his works. These will impart to him who has the 
 necessary technical skill a vital energy, and ensure for him the triumph 
 of success. A popular reviewer has recently advanced the paradox that 
 we are not an {esthetic people, but positively prefer ugliness to beauty; 
 and yet that “ all that patronage can do has been done in England, 
 there is no lack of purchasers for anything approaching to beauty in 
 statuary or painting.” The latter we believe to be the truth. The 
 wealth of the upper classes is so vast, that no sculptor of merit need 
 apprehend remaining unknown or unemployed ; but he must conform 
 himself to the people he would please. Not one of a thousand Eng¬ 
 lish houses can find a place for a nude Venus, Greek Slave, or Cupid : 
 millions can afford to pay for such productions of the chisel as would 
 adorn their homes and meet the daily gaze of their wives and daughters. 
 
 No form of Christianity can tolerate naked human forms, either 
 male or female. The first effort of the missionary is to induce his 
 savage auditory to adopt some form of clothing. It is a recognition 
 of a sin-tainted race, an idea precedent of any religion in theory or 
 practice. If nakedness does not engender lust, it is certainly incon¬ 
 sistent with purity. Perhaps the manner in which our Intel national 
 Exhibition has been originated may have imposed on the Com¬ 
 missioners a necessity to accept much which their taste or judgment 
 could not approve; but it appears to us that they have abandoned all 
 discretion in admitting so many nude figures—some positively indecent 
 
 3 
 
 —both of living and dead sculptors. It is absolutely distressing to 
 witness the crowds of educated women, young and old, casting their 
 eyes on such figures as Thorwalsden’s Jason, and others as false in 
 form as filthy in suggestion. We turn from this painful subject. 
 
 We are accustomed to hear and read criticisms on sculpture which 
 take for granted that there are only two forms belonging to the art— 
 the real, being simply portraiture; and the ideal, limited to the 
 creations of the heathen mythology. This is a strange delusion. The 
 great foundation of all art is nature. It has two grand aims—to re¬ 
 present the actual as nature presents it in illimitable forms of beauty; 
 and an ideal, by collecting and combining the elements scattered and 
 isolated in nature. In the one, he has only to copy faithfully ; in the 
 other, to create. The former requires mechanical skill, an observing 
 eye, a feeling for nature’s inexpressible grace and beauty; the latter, 
 superadded to all this, fancy and imagination, and a profound know¬ 
 ledge of nature’s laws and processes. It would be convenient, were it 
 possible, to designate by distinct appellations the two classes of artists 
 this implies: it is inadequately done at present by the word genius. 
 For both there is an inexhaustible mine in nature, and it is not 
 un worked. To the branch of the actual in sculpture belongs portraiture ; 
 and every year busts enough to fill a Walhalla are executed, not to 
 speak of statues. It must be admitted that overwhelming numbers of 
 these are faulty in every degree, from absolute worthlessness to tole¬ 
 rably passable ; but if a collection could be made by a qualified critic, 
 enough would be found to satisfy the world that Great Britain has had 
 in the past, and now possesses, a true and worthy school of art; an 
 art capable of fixing in an enduring material, forms which deeply 
 interest the present, and will be dearer to future generations. 
 
 It is in works of real genius in the ideal that we are deficient; this 
 embraces the actual, but is a superaddition and completion of art. The 
 true ideal is not a departure from nature: it is only a more profound 
 perception of it—of the intention in creation, rather than what is 
 visibly accomplished. The Great Artificer of the world has not em¬ 
 bodied perfection in any individual human form, for example ; but He 
 has shadowed out in their species innumerable forms of perfect beauty. 
 These it belongs to the ideal artist to discover and represent. He also 
 may produce an ideal creation with as strict an individuality as his 
 familiar friend, but he must use only the elements nature furnishes. 
 The selection evinces his taste and judgment, his aesthetic character, and 
 his power. With very few exceptions, which could be easily reckoned, 
 some belonging to ancient,some to modern times, ideal sculpture exhibits 
 the defects inherent in the actual. The artist works with a model before 
 him, and it is seldom that some peculiarity of the model is not copied 
 to mar the perfection of the ideal. This we consider to be a great 
 fault in Gibson’s tinted Venus. He has added an element usually 
 excluded from the ideal—namely, colour, and with great mechanical 
 skill has produced a female form of singular loveliness, sweetness, and 
 grace (not a Greek Venus, but a pure Englishwoman, nearly naked, a 
 most unusual condition), which would have commanded far more 
 general admiration but for several defects evidently copied too literally 
 from his model. There is on one of our public monuments a ludicrous 
 example illustrative of this artistic error. A figure of Fame stands in 
 a conspicuous public place, evidently modelled from a living female of 
 large stature, in which is faithfully represented the fact that the model 
 was in the fourth month of pregnancy. 
 
 Ideal art has, as we have said, a source of material in nature. Its 
 creations may be either purely imaginative or historical. The forms 
 of illustrious men, whose persons are almost or altogether unknown, 
 afford a wide scope for a great artist to interpret in marble, and pre¬ 
 sent to vision the creations of our own poets, to embody actions on 
 which the fate of nations has turned. These demand real genius. 
 Too often, alas ! are the}' attempted with only mechanical skill, neither 
 intellect nor feeling being present. A strange and most absurd substi¬ 
 tute is sought in hugeness of size, as if mere magnitude could ever be a 
 substitute for intellectual greatness! Hence the gigantic absurdities 
 which disfigure our public places They are too abundantly present in the 
 Exhibition; but happily we need not dwell on failures when there is so 
 much to excite admiration. The Commissioners have apparently used 
 no discretion in selection, but admitted all that was offered, good and 
 bad. Here, at least, the spectator can see and judge for himself; and 
 if with an observant eye and mind, the great exemplar Nature is made 
 the standard of comparison, no one can be at a loss in forming a cor¬ 
 rect judgment. If there are few of the works so pre-eminently suc¬ 
 cessful as to command universal approval, there are many whence we 
 may draw the most hopeful anticipations of a great national art of 
 sculpture. 
 
 N 
 
90 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Confining ourselves in the present number to these general remarks, 
 we hope to dedicate a future paper to an examination of the most 
 meritorious in the Exhibition. 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL LITERATURE. 
 
 A DAT IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 
 
 By Peoeessor Smieke. 
 
 I purpose on this occasion to invite your attention to one of the 
 greatest depositories of intellectual wealth,—the Library of the British 
 Museum. 
 
 Without attempting to bring before you even the shortest or most 
 meagre enumeration of all the objects of interest to the architectural 
 student which that vast repository may contain (such an enumera¬ 
 tion would, indeed, be as much beyond my powers as it would cer¬ 
 tainly be beyond our narrow limits), without attempting any such 
 task, I propose now to indicate to you a few of the more striking 
 specimens of the literary and artistic wealth which are in so great 
 abundance in the library of the British Museum, at our disposal ; 
 accompanying them with such remarks as may bo naturally suggested 
 by the consideration of the objects themselves, as I enumerate them. 
 I do not design here to touch upon the antiquities at the British 
 Museum : a critical examination of these, or even a correct appreciation 
 of them, would be beside my purpose as well as beyond my powers. 
 To enter that department would assuredly lead, us into antiquarian 
 disquisitions, which I am anxious to avoid. 
 
 The first book I shall advert to is a very large folio volume, de¬ 
 scriptive of the great Flavian amphitheatre in Rome, and appears to 
 have been the result of long and careful examinations made chiefly 
 during the excavations by the French whilst in military occupation of 
 Rome in 1811, 18 L2, and 1813. The author was a French architect, 
 Mons. Paris, who had long been a resident in that city, having quitted 
 his native country at the outbreak of the great Revolution, He seems 
 to have been a painstaking and intelligent observer; and the delicately- 
 executed drawings of which this volume consists, with the very minute 
 notes explanatory of them, bear testimony to his great carefulness as 
 an architectural draughtsman. He appears to have quitted the practice 
 of his profession as an architect early, and to have been engaged for 
 some years in the decorations of the royal theatres and of the opera, 
 at Paris. During his subsequent exile in Italy those studies were 
 made, one of the fruits ol which was the magnificent volume 1 have 
 alluded to. 
 
 Probably there never was executed so complete a monogram of any 
 one building. The only subject of regret is that the drawings gene¬ 
 rally do not distinguish so clearly as one would wish between those 
 parts which are the representations of the actually surviving portions 
 of the building and those parts which are the conjectural restorations 
 of the ingenious antiquary himself. Some of the drawings, however, 
 are not open to this criticism, but are beautifully-executed delineations 
 of the edifice in its revived state ; and 1 can safely affirm that all the 
 drawings bear very strong marks of having been the work of a pains¬ 
 taking and scrupulous artist. The work was intended and fully 
 prepared for publication : it has remained, however, in MS., and ulti¬ 
 mately became by purchase the property of the Trustees of the British 
 Museum in 1847. 
 
 In many respects the Colosseum at Rome is one of the remarkable 
 buildings of antiquity. It has all the attributes of grandeur. In its 
 actual dimensions I believe it to be the largest single building ever 
 erected—unless we except the Pyramids of Egypt, which are, perhaps, 
 hardly to be classed as works of regular architecture. Its simplicity 
 of character and unity of design are also sources of grandeur. There 
 is a breadth of manner, and a noble abstinence from trivial orna¬ 
 mentation in its external architecture, which greatly elevate the cha¬ 
 racter of the building. There is a majesty, even, in its stupendous 
 strength. It stands a monument of consummate constructive talent; 
 a talent not parading itself, like a Mediaeval cathedral, by the perpetual 
 manifestation of great efforts— lateral thrusts, and counterbalancing 
 weights; huge picturesque masses of masonry piled up solely to resist 
 the tendency to self-destruction constantly operating on the structure. 
 This immense building, on the contrary, stands, and has stood for 
 eighteen centuries, not by any straining exertion, but simply because 
 all the laws of static science have been scrupulously regarded. I am 
 justified in saying that it has stood for eighteen centuries; because, 
 
 notwithstanding the concussions of earthquakes and tempests, and the 
 erosive agency of natural causes, it still stands with few marks of 
 substantial injury, except those which it has received from the de¬ 
 structive hands of man. 
 
 It has been for ages the quarry whence ready-worked stones have 
 been continually abstracted, and whole palaces have been the result of 
 such spoliation. Yet it survives, next after the Pyramids, the greatest 
 architectural monument in the world :— 
 
 A ruin, yet what a ruin! From its mass, 
 
 Walls, palaces, half cities, have been reared; 
 
 Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass, 
 
 And marvel where the spoil could have appeared. 
 
 I will not dismiss this remarkable volume from your notice without 
 noting the extraordinary dimensions of the building which it illustrates. 
 I find the length of the major axis to be 580 feet, and of its minor 
 axis, 480 feet; whilst the height from the ground-line outside the 
 building to the summit of the exterior wall is 160 feet. Mr. Paris 
 makes an elaborate calculation of the actual number of sittings 
 afforded by its marble benches: the result is 44,090 persons. The 
 stories, therefore, of those (like Fontana and others) who represent the 
 number of persons accommodated to have been 80,000, or even more, 
 were either wild exaggerations, or it may be that this high number 
 might have been obtained by counting the multitudes who could have 
 been crowded into the numerous corridors, on the broad platform at 
 the highest part of the amphitheatre, and possibly, too, on the arena 
 itself. 
 
 I will now invite your attention to two splendid folio volumes of 
 drawings preserved in the Royal Library, of which they form a part. 
 The drawings are executed very carefully and cleverly in outline, 
 slightly shadowed and tinted, upon vellum. The series comprises 
 plans and views of the chief royal palaces of France, together with 
 some original designs, by Jacques Androuet du Cerceau, one of the 
 most eminent among the originators of the Renaissance in France, 
 born about 1515. 
 
 These valuable and interesting drawings were made for Catherine 
 de Medicis, and certainly formed part of the Royal Collection of 
 trance. How they subsequently became transferred to their present 
 place on the shelves of our great public library is not recorded. 
 
 It is not my intention to particularize all the buildings represented 
 in these volumes; indeed, so rich was the French crown in Chateaux 
 and Maisons de Plaisance in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, 
 that it would extend my notice far beyond its proper limits were I to 
 do so. All the earlier examples are characteristic of the transitional 
 period when they were erected. In plan they retain much of the type 
 ot a Mediaeval fortification; and this may have been probablv occa¬ 
 sioned in some cases by the erection of the palaces on the foundations 
 of some more ancient castles of a strictly military character. But 
 there are few that retain any provisions whatever for active defence: 
 the bastions become clusters of embowed windows, enriched with many 
 architectural embellishments ; and the intervening curtains are occupied 
 entirely by wide windows, lofty chimneys, and other features of 
 domestic architecture, to the exclusion of the loopholes and frowning 
 machicolations of the preceding ages. 
 
 Ihe book which next comes to hand is a splendid volume of earlier 
 date than that to which we last adverted, and is not without a certain 
 amount of romance in its history, for it consists of verses composed by 
 the Duke of Orleans after his capture at the battle of Agincourt, and 
 with which composition he beguiled the tedium of his imprisonment 
 in England. The illustrations are beautifully-executed miniatures, 
 and of great interest as explanatory of the buildings, habits, and cos¬ 
 tume of the period. One of these illustrations is of especial interest, 
 as it presents a view of London in the fifteenth century. It is taken 
 on the banks of the Thames, and represents the Tower in the foreground 
 and the bridge in the middle distance. The very rapid shoot of the 
 current at the bridge is plainly indicated. At a short distance from 
 the Tower is seen the creek of “ Bellyne’s gate,” on the banks of which 
 creek and below bridge is y considerable building, probably the Custom¬ 
 house. The architecture of this building is portrayed with great 
 minuteness, and is manifestly drawn from the actual objects, not 
 conventionally, but with considerable effort at correctness of represen¬ 
 tation. It is worthy of observation that the lowest story consists of 
 an arcade of perfectly Renaissance character, the arches being circular, 
 or nearly so, springing from ordinary columns apparently very much 
 like Roman Doric. 
 
 The superstructure, however, is of quite Mediaeval character, pre¬ 
 senting a series of steep gables of dissimilar designs, and with the 
 
81 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 windows apparently mullioned. The pei’fectly Italian aspect of the 
 lower part of the building seems to me to be conclusive evidence of 
 the existence of the style of the Renaissance in England very much 
 earlier than is usually supposed. 
 
 Now that I am touching on the subject of illustrated manuscripts, 
 I need not omit allusion to the remarkable book known as the “ Codex 
 Aureus.” It forms part of the Royal Library collected by George III., 
 and is certainly one of the gems of that collection. It has many 
 claims on our attention, inasmuch as it appears to be beyond a doubt 
 that it was executed for Charlemagne. It is enriched with magnifi¬ 
 cent illustrations, which may be fairly presumed to be specimens of the 
 highest art which Europe in the beginning of the ninth century was 
 capable of producing, and is, moreover, considering its great age, in 
 excellent preservation. The prevailing character of the architectural 
 features is manifestly what it is usual to designate as Romanesque. 
 Each page represents one arch divided into three subordinate compart¬ 
 ments by slender pillars carrying three arches. This arrangement of 
 arches seems to have taken its rise somewhere about the period in the 
 history of architecture with which this volume is contemporaneous ; 
 perhaps, indeed, even earlier. 
 
 The practice of building small arches in a continuous series, spring¬ 
 ing from the capitals of small pillars, bears a far earlier date. We 
 find them in abundance at the Palace of Diocletian. Such small 
 arcades occur, too, at the building near Ravenna, called Theodoric’s 
 Palace, and a continuous range of them originally encircled the mult¬ 
 angular tomb of that monarch. These small arcades, arranged in suc¬ 
 cessive superimposed orders, came to be used to excess, as you, no 
 doubt, well know, and covered the towers and gables of the Lombardic 
 and subsequent ages. I may add that in paintings and mosaics of so 
 early a date as the fourth century, represented in Seroux d’Agincourt’s 
 great work, these arcades abound. 
 
 But in the illustrations of a manuscript preserved in the Laurentian 
 Library, at Florence, to which the date of the fourth century is as¬ 
 signed, a more distinct foreshadowing occurs of the Gothic mullioned 
 window. It represents a large semicircular arch, comprising within 
 its span four minor arches, thus dividing it into four narrow openings. 
 It is true the head of the large comprising arch is blanked : there is 
 shown on it a circle, probably decorative only, and not perforated; but 
 the transition from this to an ordinary four-light Gothic window is 
 easy and natural. In the “ Codex Aureus,” to which I have been 
 referring, we have very plainly this germ of the Gothic window, 
 and we have it even more distinctly developed in MSS. of the ninth 
 century, of which representations are given by D’Agincourt. But not 
 only were these small arcades the putative parents of mullioned win¬ 
 dows ; to them, also, it can hardly be doubted, we owe the triforium of 
 our ecclesiastical architecture. I cannot refrain from here reminding 
 you of the analogous use of these subordinate arcades in the West¬ 
 minster Hall, as built by our William Rufus. In the twenty-sixth 
 volume of the “ Archseologia” you will find the representation of that 
 triforium story forming an open arcaded passage-way, obtained in the 
 thickness of the wall. This curious feature in the domestic architec¬ 
 ture of the twelfth century I had the pleasure of being the first to ex¬ 
 plore and delineate, when the interior of the walls of Westminster 
 Hall was opened out and exposed to view, under my brother, Sir 
 Robert’s directions, with a view to the reface of masonry of those walls 
 in 1837. 
 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 The Cross is the earliest and the most national of our public monu¬ 
 ments. It dates from the first traditions of our island history in the 
 “ Suenos stone” near Forres, and the curious monuments which have 
 been ably reproduced by the care of the Spalding Club in the “ Sculp¬ 
 tured Stones of Scotland.” Four crosses still stand on the conse¬ 
 crated shores of Iona, where it is reported that 360 of these venerable 
 monuments once marked spots dear to piety and affection. The large 
 Iona cross in front of the cathedral is a monolith column of the hardest 
 whin rock, 14 feet high, 18 inches broad, and 6 inches thick. It is 
 fixed in a pedestal formed out of a massive block of red granite about 
 3 feet high. “ The labour and art,” says Mr. Graham, “ of quarrying 
 such a column, of transporting it to the island, and of carving and 
 erecting it when it was brought, are circumstances really astonishing 
 when one considers how inadequate the power and the skill of this part 
 of the country would now be to such a work.” It would seem that 
 the practice of erecting these crosses lasted in Iona down to the Re¬ 
 
 formation, for that of Abbot Mackinnon, still standing, bears date as 
 late as 1489. For monuments on a comparatively small scale, con¬ 
 nected with the memory of the dead or with ecclesiastical associations, 
 we know of nothing comparable in effect to these crosses, and their 
 monolithic character gives them importance and extreme durability. 
 But under the denomination “ cross” we include not only these 
 primaeval monuments of a rude antiquity, but some of the most ex¬ 
 quisite remains (alas! too few) of Gothic architecture. Most of the 
 cathedrals had their “ ero-s” in the precincts of the chapter-house: 
 thus Paul’s Cross was the scene of the great ecclesiastical debates of 
 the Middle Ages and the Reformation, and also the Forum of the 
 citizens of London—though indeed Paul’s Cross had no claims to 
 monumental beauty, if, as Strype states, it was merely “a pulpit cross 
 of timber, mounted upon steps of stone, and covered with lead.” 
 
 These mediaeval crosses had not necessarily an ecclesiastical cha¬ 
 racter. The Cross of Coventry, which was the most elegant and 
 splendid fabric of the kind in England, was built in 1541 by a bequest 
 from Sir William Hollies to the city for municipal ornament. It was 
 of a hexagonal shape, 57 feet high and 42 in circumference, decorated 
 with the most elaborate tracery of the time: unhappily it was taken 
 down by an “improving” corporation in 1776. The crosses of 
 Cheddar, Malmesbury, and Chichester are small roofed buildings of the 
 form which may also be seen in the curious, though not very pleasing, 
 Royal Cross of Aberdeen. 
 
 The crosses which marked the transport of the body of Queen 
 Eleanor from Herdeby iu Lincolnshire to Westminster, have all but 
 disappeared: that which occupied the well-known site in the village of 
 Charing (supposed by some to be derived from chere Heyne), still lives 
 in the name of the busiest thoroughfare of western London. The 
 crosses of Geddington and Northampton (the Queen’s Cross) are pre¬ 
 served, and the cross of Waltham, erected on the same melancholy 
 occasion by the piety of Edward I., has recently been most skilfully 
 restored. It is a hexagon, each side of the lower story divided into 
 two arches, charged with the arms of England, Castile, Leon, and 
 Ponthieu; the purfled finials of the second story cover twelve open 
 tabernacles, intersected by pillars, the niches being filled by appropriate 
 figures ; and the third story rises in solid masonry to support the shaft 
 of a plain cross on the summit. In our judgment, no monument de¬ 
 signed to commemorate the dead can be more touching and appropriate 
 than this. It admits of the introduction of sculpture, it admits of in¬ 
 scriptions; and provided it be suitably placed, as, for example, in the 
 quadrangle of a college or a cathedral close, it may unite all the conditions 
 of a Christian and English monument. Indeed, the example of the Scott 
 monument at Edinburgh, which is in fact one of these crosses,shows that 
 it maybe placed without impropriety even in the thoroughfares of a great 
 city, which has in other respects nothing of the mediaeval character. 
 We confess that we regret that the monument erected at Scutari, by 
 order of her Majesty, to record the gallant endurance of the British 
 army in the Crimean war, did not assume the shape of one of these 
 eminently national structures, endeared to us by historical tradition 
 and religious associations, in place of the obelisk of Cornish granite 
 which has been placed there. 
 
 Harbours of Refuge. —The annual return, showing the progress 
 of works and harbours of refuge, has been issued. At Dover, where 
 500,000/. have been laid out, and a vote of 50,000/ is to be taken this 
 year, to be followed by 100,000/. more in future years, the length of 
 the pier founded is now 1573 feet; and 1390 feet have been completed 
 to the quay level. The South Eastern Railway is now carried on to 
 the pier. At Alderney, 1220 yards of sea wall, and 1226 of harbour 
 wall of the western breakwater are complete except the coping; and 
 the promenade wall is ready for the coping for a length of 1217 yards 
 from the shore. The base of the breakwater extends 1636 yards from 
 the shore. From 500 to 700 men are kept employed at this work; 
 for which there have been voted 937,000/.; the total estimate being 
 1,300,000/. Of the breakwater at Portland, which is to shelter 2130 
 acres of the bay, the centre of the north head is 8512 feet from the 
 shore, and the depth of water 9^ fathoms at low water of spring tides. 
 During the heavy gales of February and March many vessels took 
 refuge within this harbour. The votes already passed for the works 
 at Portland amount to 973,000/. The total estimate exceeds 1,000,000/. 
 Upwards of 5,000,000 tons of rough stone have been deposited since 
 the commencement. 
 
 “ The whole world without art and dress 
 Would be but one great wilderness.”— Butler. 
 
 N 2 
 
92 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 CARTHAGE AND HER REMAINS* 
 
 Whatever may be said of the Victorian Age for its lack of ori¬ 
 ginality in creating new architectural and artistic designs, no one can 
 deny it the merit of having done much to restore the past and bring 
 us again face to face as it were with the great nations of antiquity. 
 Whilst history was studied from books alone, little progress could be 
 made. So much of the literature of the elder nations of the earth had 
 been lost, and the works of the few authors that remained represented so 
 many separate nationalities; knew so little of each other and were 
 so divided both in faith and feeling, that ancient history was, to a very 
 great extent, guess work : the materials, indeed, were not at hand by 
 which anything like a consecutive or reliable history of the world could 
 be formed. This was especially true of Egypt, Assyria, Phenicia, 
 and Etruria. What, however, was wanting in books lias been amply 
 supplied by antiquarian discoveries, and the nations which once sat 
 in the darkness of night, are now the most thoroughly understood 
 of any that have ever lived. This may at first seem paradoxical; but 
 it is nevertheless perfectly true, that we know more of the life, 
 manners, and customs of the people of Egypt who lived three thousand 
 years ago, than we do of that of Rome or many of the nations of 
 modern Europe; and yet the Egyptians have not left a single volume. 
 A few extracts from Manetho, certain portions of the “ Book of the 
 Dead,” together with a few scattered fragments, are all that remain of 
 the literature of this great people. But what was wanting in their 
 books is amply supplied by their monuments, and we know accurately 
 now what they did in life, and what they hoped for after death. The 
 lives and conquests of their kings, their method of warfare, the arts 
 of peace and industry, their feasts and games, their seasons of joy 
 and hours of sorrow, with all their implements of trade and industry, 
 are as familiar to us as are those of our forefathers of the last century. 
 What fossils are to the geologist, pottery, statuary, bricks, and ruins 
 are to the historian: given these things, and we can predicate, with ab¬ 
 solute certainty, what the state of society was in which any people lived, 
 although history may not record one sentence concerning them. As 
 the paleontologist, with his fragments of bone, can reconstruct the 
 whole animal, and inform us what the state of the country was when 
 the monsters of the oolite age were supreme in England, and the earth, 
 air, and sea were peopled with the iguanodon, pterodactyl us, and 
 ichthyosaurus ; so the patient student of antiquities can bring again from 
 the dead the buried nations of past ages, and read from the scattered 
 remains of the race a historjr of the people from 
 
 Hieroglyphics on Egyptian stones, 
 
 Though not a pinch remains of Cheops’ bones. 
 
 In the work before us, Dr. Davis has presented us with a very 
 valuable and readable book, upon a subject which must always be of 
 great interest to every student of history; and although we cannot 
 award the same amount of praise to him as we do to Layard and some 
 others of our explorers amongst the lost cities of the world, still he 
 has his merits, and they are neither small nor inconsiderable. As an 
 author, he wants tact and a nice perception of the fitness of things ; but 
 in a case like the present we are happy to receive any contribution 
 that shall throw light on the history of the people who formerly dwelt 
 on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. In a dry and thirsty land 
 we are glad to receive a hearty draught of water, and not too anxious 
 to criticise the construction of the filter through which we have 
 obtained it. 
 
 Carthage, the Tarshish of the Prophets, must always have an in¬ 
 terest for all who value sacred literature. It was a flourishing 
 kingdom in the time of David; and the architect who built the Temple 
 of Solomon and the artists and art workmen who adorned it were 
 sent to Jerusalem from this city. The king also lent to Solomon one 
 hundred and twenty talents of gold, gave him his daughter in mar¬ 
 riage, and some time later built a navy for him, and had, we know not 
 how, whether by the Canal of Psammetichus, across the Isthmus of Suez, 
 or else round the Cape of Good Hope, the ships transferred to the Red 
 Sea. These events, together with the accounts left us by the Roman 
 poets and historians, seem to have fired the imagination of Dr. Davis 
 when quite a lad, and, as a natural consequence, he fell in love with 
 Dido. The youthful flame, however, burnt low until the Doctor was 
 actually on the site trodden by his ideal heroine three thousand years 
 
 * Carthage and her Remains: being an Account of the Excavations and 
 Researches on the Site of the Plienician Metropolis of Africa. By Dr. N. 
 Davis, F.B.G.S. London: Bentley. 
 
 ago, when the old fire was revived in all its ardour, and he earnestly 
 resolved to disinter the remains of the once famous city, and thus 
 supply some links in the chain of the history of a once noble people. 
 Hence he prepared to commence his excavations. 
 
 Digging trenches, however, and making excavations through huge 
 heaps or mounds of earth, and seeking for curiosities in the ash-pits of 
 a city that has been buried for nearly twenty centuries, is dull, heavy, 
 and too often disappointing work. Besides this, there is also the 
 difficulty of finding proper workmen, and the jealousy of the Oriental 
 officials to be overcome, who all believe that we are seeking not for 
 curiosities but for buried treasures in gold, silver, and precious stones. 
 However, as the Mahometans say, the Franks overcame everything 
 but death. All difficulties were finally superseded, and the work 
 commenced in earnest, and the results of the explorations are now in the 
 British Museum. 
 
 Few people are aware of what our Government are at present doing 
 to promote the higher, and consequently all branches of literature. 
 When there is so much boasting about the patronage which foreign 
 Governments bestow on art and learning, it would be ungrateful in us, 
 who make literature a profession, if we did not put in a claim for 
 blunt, honest John Bull, who is without a rival in the civilized world 
 for the substantial aid which he affords to the earnest student and 
 author. What the sun is to the solar system, the British Museum is 
 to the literary world. It is not the only point of light, but it is the 
 greatest, and its rays span vast domains of space, light up other 
 nations, and impart lustre to our many colonies. Here all authorities, 
 ancient and modern, are brought together, and hence it becomes the 
 test-chamber and proof-office where the world’s knowledge is assayed. 
 It has the best library and finest reading-room in the world. In no 
 plane has the student the same attention and facilities for study. We 
 doubt if there be another institution which has such a staff of able, 
 polite, and kindly disposed officers, whilst its collection of objects of 
 historical and scientific interest is so vast that it is difficult to cata¬ 
 logue them. Here all the waifs from Time’s deep ocean, where so 
 many races have perished, find a home and resting-place. The foot¬ 
 print of the Labyrinthodon, who left “ his mark” upon the Sandstone 
 rock a hundred thousand years ago, the Rosetta stone, and the brick 
 library of Nebuchadnezzar, are all preserved in adjoining rooms. It 
 was here that Dr. Davis came for help; was kindly aided by M. 
 Panizzi and the trustees, and through them by the British Govern¬ 
 ment. The knowledge of this fact had a magical influence on the 
 authorities at Tunis. With this patronage, and ample means at his 
 disposal, the doctor commenced his labours, and the result is the fine 
 Mosaic pavements and other objects of ancient art which may be seen 
 in the British Museum, and, we may also add, the readable and valuable 
 book before us. 
 
 Leaving Tunis with about fifty people, and proceeding to the site of 
 Carthage, which is about ten miles distant, he commenced his explora¬ 
 tions at what appeared to be a likely spot, as there were signs of vast 
 ruins; but after many weary days the place was abandoned. He then 
 opened fresh workings at St. Louis Hill, which is believed to be the 
 site of the ancient temple of Esculapius, but did not succeed in finding 
 anything of very great interest. What surprised him here was the 
 barbarous mutilations to which every work of art had been subjected 
 by the succeeding shoals of Christian and Mahometan, who had suc¬ 
 cessively held possession of the country, and rivalled each other in this 
 vile spoliation; and so thoroughly had they accomplished their work 
 that every statue is broken in pieces. Fragments of hands, limbs, 
 and heads are scattered everywhere, but nothing else remains. The 
 destroyer has been everywhere, and has broken everything from his 
 love of destruction. 
 
 At another spot Dr. Davis was more fortunate, and in uncovering 
 the old Temple of Astarte he come upon a tine piece of Mosaic pave¬ 
 ment, which was some reward for his long toil and many disappoint¬ 
 ments. Upon the whole, however, his discoveries are of small value 
 when compared with those of Layard; but such as they are we gladly 
 accept them. 
 
 A great portion of the work, however, has no reference at all to the 
 explorations, but might as well have appeared in any other form. The 
 chapters devoted to the history of Carthage are appropriate enough, 
 but the stories about the Arabs, &c., are scarcely in keeping with the 
 rest of the text; however, the book is readable and interesting. It is 
 a good book, but not the best that might have been made out of such 
 ample materials. 
 
 “ A true artist should put a generous deceit on the spectators and 
 effect the noblest designs by easy methods.”— Burke. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 93 
 
 HISTORY OP BRICKS AND TILES * 
 
 Her Majesty’s Commissioners of Patents have issued an excellent 
 volume, edited by Mr. Bennett Woodcroft, of the Great Seal Patent 
 Office, in which they give a history of all the patents that have been 
 granted in England for the manufacture of bricks and tiles. It is, of 
 course, what is popularly known as a “ blue book,” and contains about 
 three hundred pages, exclusive of the introduction, giving in an 
 abridged form the specifications of nearly one thousand patents which 
 have been registered during the last two hundred and fifty years. The 
 first on the list, dated 1619, is for a tile, pipe, and “ paving-stone” 
 making machine, “ graunted to John Etherington, shewing that 
 whereas he hath found out * The arte of making a certain engine to 
 make and cast day, of alle sorte of earthen pipes for conveyance of 
 water in the earth, and also mulions and transomes for windowes, 
 crests for houses, tyles and paving-stones,’ his Ma tie doth hereby 
 graunt. unto him sole power, for 21 yeares, to make and use the said 
 engines for the purposes aforesaid, paying yearelie unto his Ma"'“ 
 Excliequ 1 , xxyj 8 viij d .” The next relates to the use of peat for the 
 burning of bricks; and the third, dated 1632, and granted to Thomas 
 Grent, comprises, amongst a variety of inventions, including the 
 “ moving of ships without windalso “ a buildinge moulde or stone 
 presse, very requisite for the building of churches or greate houses, 
 by which stone windowes, door cases, chimney pieces, &c., are made 
 more speedily without hewing, cutting, sawing, carveing, or ingrave- 
 ing, as alsoe bricks and tiles, more beautifull to the eye, and more 
 dureable against foule weather; being as smoothe as glasse on the one 
 side or end, with divers colours and workes, as if they were carved by 
 skillfull hands and curious workmanshippe.” 
 
 The introduction has been written with great care, and gives an 
 interesting history of brickmaking from the earliest ages. The author 
 says:— 
 
 The art of the brickmaker has been practised by nearly every civilized nation 
 of which we have any record; the manufacture of bricks, and the employment of 
 them for building purposes, dating from the remotest antiquity, and the use of 
 that distinctive form of bricks to which we have given the name of tiles being 
 probably almost, if not quite, as ancient. Nor is this to he wondered at when it 
 is recollected that in all countries where timber or stone are difficult to procure or 
 to work, the natural resource must be the employment, as a building material, of 
 baked or sun-dried earth or clay, in some shape. In such districts or provinces, 
 however, as furnish stones of portable dimensions, or accessible and easily-worked 
 quarries, and in such as abound in timber, the building art has often made great 
 progress without recourse being had to artificial materials ; and in these localities, 
 bricks, being little needed, are often almost unknown, and sometimes even tiles 
 are little employed. Portions of Norway and of Switzerland may be referred to as 
 furnishing examples either of the exclusive use of timber or of its employment in 
 conjunction with only a small quantity of stone for structures. Certain districts 
 of Prance in the Middle Ages, and some parts of the north of England and Scot¬ 
 land at the present day, furnish on the other hand instances of the almost uni¬ 
 versal employment of stone with just so much timber as is indispensable, in each 
 case to the exclusion of brick; hut exceptional localities such as these afford 
 almost the only instances of the total absence from buildings of some form or 
 other of artificial building, roofing, or paving materials. 
 
 The Babylonians, the Egyptians, and the Assyrians, among the nations of 
 remote antiquity, all made use of bricks, to a great extent, and in the Bible 
 references to this material, as made among all of these nations, are to be found. 
 These references form the earliest authentic accounts of the employment of 
 bricks; but Josephus mentions a tradition which attributes to the sons of Seth 
 a knowledge of their use, and which, if true, would thus carry back their origin 
 to the very earliest period of the history of the human race. 
 
 The first mention of bricks in Scripture is to be found in the account (Genesis 
 xi. 3, 4) of the building of the city and tower of Babel. Here the making and 
 burning of bricks is spoken of as the first work undertaken preparatory to build¬ 
 ing, and it is worth remark that the work incidentally betrays the fact that he 
 was writing at a time and in a place where stone was principally, if not exclu¬ 
 sively employed, for he says, “ brick had they for stone.” 
 
 The next Scripture mention of bricks occurs in the account of the bondage of 
 the Israelites in the land of Egypt (Exod. i. 13, 14, and v. 6-19). Here we have 
 an account of the employment of the captives in the manufacture of bricks, and 
 also in the erection ot buildings for Pharaoh. 
 
 In the history of David (2 Samuel xii. 31), we have a reference to a brick-kiln, 
 not, however, in the territory of the Jews, but in the adjoining country of the 
 Ammonites; for it is in that history recorded that, having taken Rabbah, the 
 capital of that country, David, beside other modes of destroying or humiliating 
 the inhabitants, “made them to pass through the brick-kiln.” 
 
 In the book of Isaiah bricks arc twice mentioned, and in both cases in such a 
 way as to show that they were held in low estimation as compared with stone. 
 In the first of these passages (Isaiah ix. 9, 10), the prophet says that the people 
 “ say in the pride and stoutness of heart, the bricks are fallen down, but we will 
 build with hewn stones.” In the second passage (Isaiah xlv. 3), a long series of 
 gross breaches of law and propriety are being recited, and among the first of 
 them occurs the reproach that the people “ burneth incense upon altars of 
 brick.” 
 
 In the book of Jeremiah we have again a reference, at a date about eight 
 centuries after the one in the book of Exodus, to the brick-making of Egypt. 
 The Jews at that time had fled into Egypt, and the prophet, who was among 
 them, being about to proclaim the destruction hy fire of the gods of the Egyptians, 
 was thus directed (Jeremiah xliii. 9) : “Take great stones in thine hand, and 
 
 * Patents for Inventions: Abridgments of the Specifications relating to 
 Bricks and Tiles. Printed by order of the Commissioners of Patents. 1862. 
 
 hide them in the clay in the brick-kiln, which is at the entry of Pharaoh's house 
 in Tahpanhes.” 
 
 Lastly, in the book of Nahum, there occurs a reference to the city of Nineveh 
 (Nahum iii. 14), from which it is clear that bricks were understood to be the 
 ordinary material applicable to the fortifications of that city. Foretelling invasion 
 and attack, the prophet says: “ Draw thee waters for the siege, fortify thy 
 strongholds: go into clay, and tread the mortar, make strong the brick-kiln.” 
 And these references to the customary employment of brick by the Babylonians, 
 the Nineyites, and the Egyptians, will be found corroborated by the accounts of 
 profane historians, such as Herodotus and Xenophon, and by the researches of 
 modern discoverers. 
 
 Among these three nations the use of two sorts of bricks, some being kiln- 
 burnt and others merely dried in the sun, appears to have been general; the 
 employment of glazed or enameled bricks as a decoration for the face of walls 
 appears also to have been common both at Nineveh and Babylon, and an im¬ 
 mense number of glazed and coloured bricks exist among the ruins of both 
 these cities. 
 
 Many ancient bricks show marks of having had reeds or other such substances 
 worked up along with the material of which they were made, apparently to 
 render it more tenacious. The Scripture account of the brickmaking performed 
 by the Israelites in Egypt, already referred to, shows that they were compelled 
 to employ straw in forming the bricks they made. It was also, for many ages, 
 customary to stamp each brick with a device or an inscription, or both, a circum¬ 
 stance which has afforded much useful historical information as to the date and 
 occasion of the erection of the buildings from the ruins of which they come ; thus, 
 for example, Mr. Layard was enabled to identify the celebrated “ Birs Nimroud” 
 as the ruin of a building of Nebuchadnezzar, by finding that every brick removed 
 from that mound was impressed with his name. Egyptian bricks are usually 
 inscribed, and it was enjoined by law (Smith’s Diet. Antiquities, art. “ Later”) 
 upon the Romans that the bricks they made should be thus marked. Bricks so 
 inscribed have been found in our own country at York, and bear marks showing 
 the presence of certain Roman legions, for or by whom they were made. I he 
 same thing has occurred in Germany, and at Caerleon. (Diet, of Arch. Pub. 
 Society, art. “ Bricks.”) 
 
 Herodotus, describing the building of the walls of Babylon, says: “They made 
 bricks of the earth, borne out from the trenches, and having drawn out a suitable 
 quantity, they burnt them in furnaces.” This is said to be the earliest reference 
 in profane history to the subject; many subsequent ones might, however, be 
 adduced, relating both to the works of the earlier nations already named and to 
 those of the Greeks and Romans. Many specimens of inscribed bricks, the 
 Assyrian ones being impressed with inscriptions in cuneiform characters, and 
 the Egyptian ones with hieroglyphics, may be seen in the British Museum. For 
 a full account of the manufacture, as practised by the Egyptians, with an en¬ 
 graving from a celebrated painting in a tomb at Thebes, representing the process, 
 and for illustrations of the almost universal employment of this material, consult 
 Sir Gardiner Wilkinson’s works. (Ancient Egyptians, vol. ii. pp. 97, 98; also 
 Manners and Customs of the Egyptians.) 
 
 The Greeks appear to have built less in brick than the Egyptians or the 
 Romans, yet it i3 clear that they did employ bricks to a considerable extent. Pliny 
 informs us that the Greeks made four sizes of them, and Vitruvius also refers 
 to the same fact. The Romans are known to have employed bricks most exten¬ 
 sively, and have left many remains of brickwork in every part of their dominions. 
 On this point a reliable authority observes (Diet, of Arch. Pub. Soc.): “ Examples 
 might be multiplied of the mention of bricks by Greek writers;” and adds: 
 “ The mention of bricks is very frequent among the Latin authors, especially 
 Columella Be Be Bust. lib. ix. 1,2, 6,4; Varro, lib. i. 14, 4; Pliny, Hist. Nat. 
 lib. vii. 57, xxxv. 48, 49; and Vitruvius, particularly lib. i. cap. 5, lib. ii. cap. 8; 
 who also, lib. ii. cap. 3, devotes an entire chapter to this subject;” also “ Palla- 
 dius, apud Scriptores, Bei Bustieee." The bricks of the Romans, and no doubt 
 those of the Greeks also, closely resembled our tiles, being flat and hard burnt, 
 and ordinarily of a red colour; Egyptian and Babylonian bricks resemble more 
 closely those in common use in our own country, both in their proportions and 
 in colour, being frequently pale. 
 
 Some of the largest masses now remaining of Roman work, executed entirely 
 in bricks, are to be seen at Rome on the Palatine Hill, and in the ruins of the 
 Balhs of Caracalla; but the most ordinary method of employing bricks in Roman 
 work was not to build with them alone, but to introduce them in bonding 
 courses, alternating with courses of loose rubble work, and as voussoirs in 
 turning arches over openings, or in relieving arches; instances of this are uni¬ 
 versally visible in Roman remains, now that the masonry or cement with which 
 such walls were most frequently intended to be faced has fallen away or been 
 removed. During the Empire, the Romans often built walls of rough ma'onry 
 faced with small hewn blocks, alternating with beds of brickwork, and in this 
 description of work the brickwork was always intended to remain visible. 
 
 Of course no one will in future think of taking out a patent for 
 anything connected with brick and tile-making without consulting 
 this useful volume. Architects and builders will also find much inte¬ 
 resting matter in it; and we have to thank Mr. Woodcroft and the 
 Commissioners for presenting at one view, and at the small cost of 
 five shillings, an analysis of all that is really worth knowing on this 
 interesting subject. 
 
 Drinking Fountain in the Regent’s Park.— Under the direc¬ 
 tion of the First Commissioner of her Majesty’s Public Works (the 
 Hon. W. Cowper), a drinking-fountain has been erected in the Regent’s 
 Park, from the design of Professor Westmacott, It. A. It was executed 
 by Mr. J. Sherwood Wesfrnacott. The structure consists of a tazza of 
 black enamelled slate, 7 feet in diameter, resting on two steps of Port¬ 
 land stone, of which the lower is 11 feet square. On the tazza ar e two 
 swans in electrotype, from whose bills the water is projected. A Cove 
 these is a red granite column and base, surmounted by a female figure 
 carrying water-vases, also in electrotype. This latter and the swans 
 were electrotyped from the sculptor’s models by Messrs. Elkington and 
 Co. The tazza was executed by Mr. Magnus, of Pimlico. The entire 
 height of the fountain is about 14 feet. 
 
n 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 THOUGHTS, PRACTICAL AND PHILOSOPHIC. 
 
 Thebe is in the British Museum a choice collection of Egyptian toys. 
 When viewing those relics of an age so remote, one scarcely fails to 
 reflect that in all likelihood—when those toys were prized possessions 
 of some young Egyptian boy or girl—the power of the Jews was in its 
 infancy, and that since the days when these were fashioned mighty 
 people have risen and declined; great buildings have been reared and 
 fallen into ruin and decay; nations have moved from barbarism to 
 high conditions of civilization. It is curious to compare these seem¬ 
 ingly trifling objects of antiquity—to wander in our national collection, 
 and thoughtfully note the rings, the beads, brooches, and other per¬ 
 sonal decorations of the ladies of Egypt, Nineveh, Babylon, the famed 
 places of Ancient Greece, of the once mighty and glorious empire of 
 Rome—we may then turn with advantage to similar matters which 
 have been the fashion in our own land, tracing them from very rude 
 conditions to the rich, costly, and beautiful works of the Middle Ages. 
 We may then glance, by way of comparison and contrast, at ornaments 
 used at the present day by those on whom the dawn of civilization 
 has scarcely shone. Changed by conditions, guided by their skill in 
 art, and by the possession of materials which are accounted the repre¬ 
 sentatives of wealth, the nations of the world in the days of their 
 power have produced choicer works than can be found amongst the 
 Sandwich Islanders, or amongst the ice-bound dwellers of the far 
 north. In all these conditions, however varied by time or situation, 
 we find the natural instincts of our nature the same: the crown of 
 feathers of the American chiefs; the peculiar head-coverings of the 
 Pharaohs, the kings of Nineveh and the Jews; the garlands of laurel, 
 which in time were changed by the Roman conquerors and governors 
 for circlets of gold, and the crowns of monarchs in our own day, are 
 all expressive of the same feeling. These wooden dolls and other toys 
 serve to show the unchanging peculiarities of mankind; for, although 
 thousands of years have made the world older since they were used, 
 the dolls would be amusing to very young ladies in the reign of Queen 
 Victoria. Infancy does not always like the most refined shape of 
 playthings. In the nursery we have seen the most beautiful of dolls, 
 with red rosy cheeks and lips and blue eyes, gay with satin and 
 ribbons, thrown to one side for a black, or perhaps headless, doll, dis¬ 
 orderly and shabby. That “there are few things new under the sun” 
 is shown by the Egyptian antiquities. Here is the hand-ball, covered 
 with leather, and filled in exactly the same way as the balls which are 
 now to be bought in the Lowther Arcade and elsewhere; and there 
 are marbles, the delight of the boys, of different hues. The artificial 
 lemon and other fruit, the egg of porcelain or glazed pottery, the little 
 perfume-box, and glass beads, are still common enough, and so the 
 world runs on—perhaps in a circle.— Builder. 
 
 Beauty. As long as Athens and Sparta maintained their inde¬ 
 pendence, and reverence for the laws was the basis of their constitu¬ 
 tion, taste was immature, art was in its infancy, and Beauty was far 
 from swaying the disposition. It is true, poetry had essayed an ele¬ 
 vated flight, but only in the soarings of genius which we know is 
 closely connected with a state of rudeness, and is a light which fre¬ 
 quently shines from the midst of darkness, which thus testifies rather 
 against them for the taste of it3 age. As the golden age of art ad¬ 
 vanced under Pericles and Alexander, and the influence of taste ex¬ 
 tended more widely, we find no more Grecian energy and freedom. 
 Eloquence adulterated truth; wisdom was an offence in the mouth of 
 a Socrates, and virtue in the life of a Phocion. The Romans, we 
 know, were obliged to exhaust their strength in civil wars, and, ener¬ 
 vated by eastern luxury, to bow beneath the yoke of a future dynasty, 
 before we see the triumph of Grecian art over the rigidity of their 
 character. And the dawn of civilization did not break over Arabia 
 until the energy of its warlike spirit had become relaxed beneath the 
 sceptre of the Abassides. The fine arts did not appear in modern 
 Italy till the powerful alliance of the Lombards was broken, till 
 Florence had submitted to the Medici, and the spirit of independence 
 in all those vigorous states had given place to inglorious submission. 
 It is well nigh superfluous to cite the examples of modern nations, 
 whose refinement increased in proportion to the decrease of their self- 
 dependence. Whenever we turn our eyes to the past, we discover that 
 taste and freedom desert each other, and that Beauty founds her 
 dominion only upon the ruins of heroic virtue.— Schiller. 
 
 The Dignity of Laboub. —“ During the last months of 1850 
 thousands and tens ol thousands of the well-skilled artisans of Prussia, 
 Austria, and other German states, had laid down the peaceful imple¬ 
 
 ments of their handicraft, and were training their fingers to the bloody 
 trade and weapons of war. And was this the time ?—was this the 
 juncture of favouring opportunities for the Great Exhibition of the 
 arts and industries of all nations ? So its originators believed. Against 
 the mind of the million they believed it steadfastly. To their faith 
 the now had come for the complete realization of the magnificent con¬ 
 ception. Unaided by legislation, with no governmental power or 
 authority to lean upon, they sent out their idea, dove-like, among 
 the divided populations of the earth. It dropped into the hearts of 
 peoples like a still small voice of Divine inspiration. It permeated the 
 minds of the masses, and touched their sympathies to the finest issues. 
 It worked upward into the highest ranks of human society, and down¬ 
 ward into its lowest conditions, and pervaded and united all with the 
 common sentiment that the great day of Univeesal Laboub had 
 come, when it was to be crowned with glory and honour, and the 
 homage of potentates and peoples. Away upon the sea, to distant 
 islands and continents, flew the summons of that thought; and the 
 sons of toil, of every handicraft, and clime, and colour, opened their 
 hearts to its message; and it thrilled their fingers with such ingenious 
 activities as never before wrought in the mechanical creations of 
 human skill. The great day of Laboub had come. The queen of all 
 the earthly conditions of humanity was to be brought to her throne, 
 with kings and queens as her train-bearers, with shoutings of grace 
 and glory to her sceptre from the many-tongued myriads of her sub¬ 
 jects. Labour, patient, peaceful Labour, that from the closed gates 
 of Paradise went forth weeping into the wilderness of life, and tracked 
 it with the red pathway of her bleeding feet; Labour, that had made 
 bricks without straw in Egypt, and lain pale and hungry, and begged 
 for crumbs on the door-stones of palaces, which her blistered hands had 
 filled with dainties which the eye and appetite of ungrateful luxury 
 could not enjoy; Labour, that had walked and worked her way 
 through the barbarisms and feudalisms of the past, with the fetter- 
 prints of bondage still fresh and crimson around her limbs; meek, 
 lowly-minded Labour had come to her immortal now, to the day of her 
 august coronation. And her lowly men of might, who bore in their 
 sunburnt foreheads and in their horny hands the dusky signets of 
 their loyalty, felt that her day was come. And with a new sentiment 
 of dignity, the pearl-divers of distant seas, with strong and downward 
 beat, descended to deeper fathoms of the ocean’s depths, and searched 
 its shining bed for ‘ gems of purer light serene’ than ever shed their 
 lustre on regal courts; the diamond-diggers of different zones hunted 
 with new ambition for the costliest stones of the earth’s treasury to 
 stud the coronation jewellery of Labour; and the trappers of frozen 
 regions, and the fishermen of the Poles, the men of the mines of deeper 
 fathom than the sea; the diggers and workers of all the precious and 
 useful metals and minerals which the earth contains; the workers of 
 the spindle, shuttle, and needle ; the artisans of hostile countries forgot 
 their nationality in the sentiment of the dignity of their common con¬ 
 dition, and all wrought, with the highest enthusiasm of their genius, 
 to bring the masterpieces of human art to the crowning of Labour. 
 And the kings and queens of the earth felt that the first jewels of 
 their crowns owed their lustre to Labour, and they brought them forth 
 to shine among the gems of her coronation, in the great Temple of 
 Peace and Concord. And the first queen of the world acted as brides¬ 
 maid at the royal robing of Labour, and in sight of the congregated 
 nations she set the tiara ot the world’s homage on her brow, and gave 
 her a glorious bride, to the dignity of universal humanity, as the first¬ 
 born aud fairest of the earthly offspring of Omnipotence. And who 
 among the thousands that filled, or the exulting millions that sur¬ 
 rounded, the Crystal Temple on that august occasion, could doubt that 
 its illustrious now had come, with its world-full of the finger-prints 
 and finger-guidings of Divine Providence—with its favouring sym¬ 
 pathies beating fellowship in the bosoms of nations—with attractions 
 and unprecedented opportunities for the realization of this magnificent 
 scheme of peace and human brotherhood P”— It,Him Burrilt. 
 
 Art is more godlike than science; science discovers, art creates. 
 
 Art surpasses strength, and patience and reflection make those 
 things possible which in the first instance appear almost insur¬ 
 mountable. 
 
 True art finds beauty everywhere. 
 
 “ The enemy of art is the enemy of nature. Art is nothing but 
 the highest sagacity and exertion of human nature; and what nature 
 will he honour who honours not the human ?”— Lavater. 
 
 “ We speak of profane arts, but there are none properly such. Every 
 art is holy in itself; it is the son of Eternal Light.”— E. Teyner. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 95 
 
 GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 Me. J. P. Pritchett, of Darlington, suggests the following “Out¬ 
 line of a Scheme for Forming an Architectural Alliance.”—1. That it 
 be called “ The Architectural Alliance.”—2. That although for the 
 present it is desirable to confine it to the United Kingdom, the ex¬ 
 tension of its operation to other countries shall he kept in view.— 
 3. That its object shall be to promote united action among the other¬ 
 wise isolated architectural societies, and to aid the establishment of 
 new local societies where not now existing.—4. That it shall take 
 cognizance of all matters affecting the interests of the profession. 
 That for its object it shall especially direct its attention to the present 
 unsatisfactory mode of conducting competitions, and shall endeavour, 
 by the publication of a scale of charges, to regulate the rates of pro¬ 
 fessional remuneration.—5. That all architectural societies giving in 
 their adherence at or before the first meeting, shall constitute the 
 nucleus of the Alliance ; and in future all architectural societies shall 
 be eligible for election in the mode hereafter provided.—6. That any 
 society wishing to join, shall be proposed, in writing, by a society 
 already in the Alliance, through their secretary ; that such proposal 
 shall be sent to the secretary of the Alliance at least one month before 
 the annual meeting, and shall state the title of the society proposed, 
 and the names of its chairman and secretary. The name of the 
 society so proposed shall be inserted in the notice convening the 
 meeting, when the election or rejection of such society shall be decided 
 by ballot.—7. That the business of the Alliance shall be conducted by 
 a president, vice-president, treasurer, honorary secretary, and delegates 
 from each society in the Alliance. The delegates shall consist of the 
 chairman of each society in the Alliance (ex officio), four members ap¬ 
 pointed by the Royal Institute of British Architects, three members 
 by the Scottish Institute, three by the Architectural Association of 
 London, and two by each provincial society, or any less number they 
 may see fit to appoint; all to be appointed annually. The president, 
 vice-president, treasurer, and honorary secretary to be elected annually 
 by ballot by the delegates. All correspondence shall be conducted by 
 the secretary of the Alliance and the secretaries of the various societies 
 composing it.—8. That the annual meeting shall be held on the first 
 Tuesday in June in each year, and other meetings may be held as 
 hereafter provided for.—9. All members of each society in the Alliance 
 shall have the right to attend the meetings of the Alliance on intro¬ 
 duction personally by any delegate, or by a card of introduction from 
 one of them ; but delegates only shall have the power to speak or vote. 
 —10. Questions may be brought under the cognizance of the Alliance 
 by any society writing, through their secretary, to the secretary of the 
 Alliance, who shall then ascertain the views of the other allied societies 
 and report to each the general feeling. On the requisition of a 
 majority of the councils or committees of the various allied societies, 
 the secretary shall call a special meeting of the delegates for the con¬ 
 sideration of any question that may arise. To such special meetings 
 provincial societies may send all their delegates, or one delegate with 
 three votes, or may exercise their three votes by proxy through any 
 other delegate.—11. That the officers of the Alliance shall prepare a 
 report of the proceedings of the Alliance for each year, to be laid before 
 the annual meeting, and it shall be competent for such meeting to 
 alter or amend it, and to order it to he printed if they see fit, in which 
 case a copy shall be sent to each member of every society in the 
 Alliance.—12. That every society publishing a report of its proceedings, 
 or of any paper read before it, shall present a copy to every other 
 society in the Alliance.—13. That any member of a society in the 
 Alliance shall have the privilege of attending (but not of speaking or 
 voting) at the meetings of any other society in the Alliance, provided 
 such member be introduced by letter from one of his own delegates, 
 or personally by a member of such society.—14. That each society 
 shall pay the expenses of its own correspondence, and shall make ar¬ 
 rangements with its delegates as to their expenses, and the expenses of 
 the Alliance (stationery, postage, printing, &e.) shall be borne equally 
 by the allied societies. 
 
 Mica in Decoeation. —An endeavour is being made to apply 
 mica, previously coloured or metalized, to the decoration of churches, 
 rooms, shops, frames, and other ornamental and useful purposes. The 
 mica preserves the gilding, silvering, or colouring from deterioration, 
 and from its transparency the articles so treated preserve all their 
 brilliancy. Mr. Murray, of Paris, the patentee, states that he thus 
 prepares and applies the mica :—It is first cut to the desired thickness 
 with an ivory or steel knife; and is then coated with a thin layer of 
 
 isinglass diluted in water; and the gold or other surface is applied; 
 after which it is allowed to dry (any article, gilt, silvered, or coloured 
 by the known process, may be covered with a thin sheet of mica by 
 glueing). He then takes a pattern of copper, with a design cut out 
 on it, and places it on the reverse side of the mica; and with a small 
 brush removes any superfluous parts, the required design thus re¬ 
 maining on the parts which have not been brushed. He then applies 
 colours, either one or more times, as considered necessary, and after¬ 
 wards coats the whole with a solution of liquid glue diluted in spirits 
 of wine, which is applied for the purpose of rendering the mica pliable. 
 When this is effected, the mica is applied to the frame or other object, 
 which is coated with glue or other adhesive material, which is allowed 
 to become comparatively dry. Mr. Murray then applies the mica 
 with the design on it to the frame or other object, when it is allowed 
 to dry for about three hours, after which all superfluous parts are re¬ 
 moved, and the external surface of the mica made smooth. In order 
 to make the junctions of several pieces of mica imperceptible, he first 
 glues them together with Venetian glue, and then applies a hot iron to 
 the parts where the mica is joined together, when the parts will be 
 completely united. The value of mica depends upon the size of the 
 sheets and their transparency ; the clear, ruby-tinged being the finest, 
 and the cloudy grey the least valuable. Talc resembles mica, but is 
 brittle and crumbling. As regards the protection of decorations, it 
 remains to be seen what such a patent is worth; considering that a 
 good many years since the late Miss Wallace obtained a patent for 
 effecting the very same object by means of glass. Mica itself is a 
 kind of glass ; being a silicate of potash, or identical, in chemical 
 nature, with water glass. Many of the decorative works done by 
 Miss Wallace were beautiful, and the brilliancy of some of them, as 
 the writer of this has seen, continues undiminished, though many 
 years have passed since they were done. 
 
 A View on the Thames Fifty Years Ago. —But we spoke of 
 what a Londoner saw from Blackfriars-bridge. There was much in 
 addition to St. Paul’s. Some fifty churches grandly grouped around 
 the Mother Cathedral, so that, when its deep, sonorous bell struck, 
 they all seemed to answer in dutiful cadences, making together a sub¬ 
 lime, mysterious music, “ seldom heard by mortal ear.” Beyond the 
 dense, dark brigade of dwellings, the Monument, so majestically plain 
 and simple, shot into the skyey vault; while, at its foot, old London- 
 bridge, with absurdly small arches—the sculler’s terror—spanned the 
 impatient flood rushing from the pool, and dashing angrily against the 
 piers. It was a tale of those days that oar-boats could not shoot safely 
 through those vexed waters. I knew better, having watched several 
 perform the feat with perfect impunity: and once being anxious to 
 reach Westminster as quickly as possible, I defied the risk myself, 
 without danger, though, as we shot the bridge, I got a cold fit, and 
 thought it foolhardy. Looking back as we passed, however, on the 
 endless forests of masts, the Tower pinnacles arose in the dim distance 
 as I had often watched them from the crown of Blackfriars-bridge. 
 Crossing to a recessed balustrade westward, there were the Temple- 
 gardens, green and quiet, not gorgeous with chrysanthemums as now, 
 nor rich with “ roses, red and white,” as in the times of the rival 
 houses, but invested with a studious calm, strangely .attractive, for they 
 formed a peaceful oasis amidst “ the gay, busy town.” In succession 
 came Somerset-house, not so sooty as it is now, but with a rough, un¬ 
 finished angle, tastefully obliterated by the recent addition. What more 
 was there, save the roof of old Drury, with its gilded Apollo ; St. 
 Martin’s spire, glad to escape from the dingy Lane; and, shutting in 
 the whole, Westmiuster-bridge, with its heavy span of arches, frowning 
 on the miniature waves that playfully broke around them P Such 
 Thames views have vanished. The silent highway brawls as noisily 
 now as the Strand ; steamboats innumerable, with stiflingjets of smoke, 
 more than out-doin<r the omnibus traffic of the narrower thoroughfare. 
 —City Press. 
 
 Bursting of a Reservoir near Rochdale. —The work of 
 years at the new reservoir of the Oldham waterworks has been spoilt 
 by the giving way of the embankment. The cause of the catastrophe 
 is not known. In the night the lower part of one side of the embank¬ 
 ment gave way, forcing up the superficial soil of the adjacent fields to 
 a considerable height. The pecuniary loss will be little short of8000Z., 
 although no damage has been done to person or other property. Had 
 the catastrophe not occurred till after the receptacle had been filled, 
 Milnrow would have witnessed a flood equal to that of Holmfirth. 
 
 Prevention of Rotting in Wood. —To prevent posts and piles 
 from rotting, the following coating has been recommended in Hera- 
 path's Journal. Besides being economical, it is said to be impel - - 
 
96 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 meable to water, and nearly as hard as stone: lake 50 paits of lesin, 
 40 parts of finely powdered chalk, 300 parts or less of fine white sharp 
 sand, 4 parts oflinseed oil, 1 part of sulphuric acid, and 1 part of na¬ 
 tive oxide of copper. First heat the resin, chalk, sand, and oil in an 
 iron boiler ; then add the oxide, and with cate the acid : stir the com¬ 
 position carefully, and apply the coating while still hot. If it be not 
 liquid enough, add a little more oil. 
 
 Fire-proof Buildings. —A new invention to prevent fire in 
 buildings consists in making the beams, girders, columns, and other 
 parts employed in the construction of buildings, hollow, for the pur¬ 
 pose of containing water and other liquid; and in connecting these 
 beams, girders, columns and other parts, so that the water or other 
 liquid with which they are filled may circulate therein or be renewed 
 when required. By this means, in case of fire in the building, the 
 main supports can never become so hot as to be injured or weakened 
 by the results of heat. 
 
 Fossil Man in the County of Durham. —A cave, known as 
 the “ Heathery Burn Cave,” near Stanhope, in Durham, exists in a 
 deep ravine in the limestone strata, which are being worked by the 
 Weardale Iron Company, to obtain a flux used in smelting their iron¬ 
 stone. The progress of the quarrying operations has laid the en¬ 
 trance to this cave bare; and in a deposit of sand, under four inches 
 of the stalagmitic stone which has been formed by the dripping of 
 water, holding lime in solution from the roof, has been discovered a 
 human skull, as well as several hundred bones of various animals, and 
 some bronze ornaments, as, for example, armlets, pins, &c. These 
 have been carefully collected by an able local geologist, John Elliot, 
 Esq., and by him transmitted to London, with a view to obtain the 
 highest scientific opinion on this most interesting discovery. As these 
 remains, unless some error of observation has been committed, would 
 apparently indicate the existence of man in the county of Durham at 
 a period of time long previous to the known historical age, the result 
 of the investigation now going on will be watched by us with the 
 greatest interest. 
 
 Byzantine Decorative Colouring. —Byzantine decorative co¬ 
 louring was rich and warm. Gothic flashy and gaudy, rather than 
 warm. South Kensington appears to be duly orthodox and cold; very 
 correct; neat; but no life; no warmth ;—wholly different from twelfth- 
 century work. Gothic windows and walls, inasmuch as colour is con¬ 
 cerned, are all spoiled by eternal diapers, patterns, borders: there are 
 no broad masses of colour, as in Byzantine work. By the word 
 Byzantine we mean all Christian art before Gothic. Gothic is 
 finicky; Byzantine manly and massive. If Byzantine had only had 
 the pointed arch, it would have been perfect. There is life in it, and 
 plenty of grotesque—the best signs of healthy minds. We should 
 like to see some South Kensington grotesque : it would be interesting. 
 Gothic form and outline are pretty elegant outline. Byzantine cares 
 not a fig for elegance: it is noble, thick, massive, manly in form; 
 and life is given to the form by the glorious grotesque. This may be 
 well studied in the metal-work and furniture of the two. 
 
 drier than light ones; the reason being that all dark colours imbibe 
 more light and heat, and thus maintain a higher temperature. Fre¬ 
 quently walls, in addition to being damp, become covered with a species 
 of salt, presenting the appearauce of hoar-frost. The following pro¬ 
 cess will be found an excellent remedy for this inconvenience and dis¬ 
 figurement Take four pounds of commercial carbonate of soda, two 
 pounds and a half of pearl-ash, and two pounds and a half of finely 
 sifted silver sand ; mix these well together, and put them into a cru¬ 
 cible capable of containing three times the quantity; fuse for two or 
 three hours, pour it out on a stone or iron slab, and allow it to cool; 
 then boil it in about a gallon of water, until a saturated solution is 
 obtained. Let the salt be scraped off the wall as much as possible, 
 and washed well with warm water; then brush the hot solution pre¬ 
 pared as above on all parts of its surface. Give the wall another coat 
 in three days’ time, and at the end of a week or two the wall will be 
 covered with an impervious glassy coating, which will effect the 
 desired end. This will answer the purpose for a wall that is merely 
 damp. 
 
 Preserving Timber. —An experiment has been made at Cher¬ 
 bourg, in preserving wood for vessels from being affected with dry rot, 
 by subjecting the timber to a slight carbonization with common in¬ 
 flammable coal-gas. The cost is only about ten cents per square yard 
 of framing and planking, and the result is stated to be completely 
 successful. 
 
 New Drinking Fountain at Camberwell-green. —A new 
 drinking fountain has been erected at Camberwell-green. It is the 
 gift of' Miss Caroline Edwards and the Metropolitan Free Drinking 
 Fountain Association, and has been erected under the superintendence 
 of that society. It is supported by four columns of serpentine marble, 
 resting on a square solid pedestal. Under a dome four jets of water 
 spring from the centre. The design is by Mr. Rolles, the surveyor to 
 the association. This makes the eighty-sixth fountain which the asso¬ 
 ciation, with the well-known philanthropist, Mr. Samuel Gurney, at 
 their head, has opened in London, and by the 1st July it will open 
 eighteen more. 
 
 Chdech-building News. — Bradford: The Primitive Methodist 
 Chapel, in Manchester-road, has been rebuilt; the old chapel having 
 been accidentally burnt down. The new chapel has been built from a 
 design by Mr. Ogilvie, architect. The liabilities incurred by the re¬ 
 building amounted to 1454/.— Southport: The foundation-stone of a 
 new church, at Ecclesfield, Southport, has been laid by Lord Skelmers- 
 dale. The church, which is to be dedicated to St. Paul, is situate 
 close to the boundary line, between Birkdale and Southport, and when 
 complete will have cost 4400/. The style of architecture is the Early 
 Decorated. It will consist of a nave, north and south aisles, transepts, 
 and chancel; the last having north aisle as chapel, and south aisle as 
 vestry and organ-loft. The architects are Messrs. Speakman and 
 Charlesworth, of Manchester; and the contract has been let to Messrs. 
 Ellis and Hinchcliffe, of Manchester, for 4390/. 
 
 NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 In the execution of the Plates which form our Illustra¬ 
 tions, we hope always to have the advantage of the 
 designs of the Architects whose buildings we represent. 
 We also invite those gentlemen, in every instance, to 
 communicate both with our artists and ourselves during 
 the progress of our drawings, and we shall always be 
 anxious to secure their approval for every illustration on 
 its completion. 
 
 The lithographs contained in the present Part have all 
 been executed from the original drawings of the Architect, 
 and also from his working drawings, with the additional 
 aid of photography; and they will doubtless be preserved 
 and valued as faithful pictures of an interesting public 
 monument, and a chaste example of the street architecture 
 of London in the Victorian age. 
 
 All communications for the Editor to be addressed to 
 the care of Dakton and Hodge, Publishers, Ilolborn- 
 hill, E.C. 
 
 In Modena a curious sepulchral monument lias just been discovered 
 by M. Cavedoni. It consists of a marble slab, forty centimetres by 
 thirty-two (fifteen and a half inches by twelve), and was found near 
 the sarcophagus of Turpiannia Tertia, within the courtyard of M. 
 Pioppi’s house, and at a depth of about twelve feet. It bears the 
 Greek word “ syntrophion,” and below seven round loaves arranged in 
 a straight line, and marked each with a cross, and lying between two 
 fishes, each of which has seized the loaf nearest it. This monument 
 is evidently of Christian origin, and probably of the third or fourth 
 century. 
 
 Remedy for Damp Walls. —Damp walls may result from a 
 variety of causes. Sometimes it arises from the stone of the building 
 attracting moisture unduly—an evil only to be prevented in the 
 building of new houses by a layer of sheet lead, of blue slate, stone 
 carefully set in cement, or of cement only, of the thickness of the wall, 
 and above the surface of the ground on which the building stands; 
 thus forming a stratum which must effectually repel any water that 
 might otherwise appear. Other dampnesses are occasioned by con¬ 
 densation of the water generated by the atmosphere in the form of 
 vapour, and condensed by coming in contact with surfaces lower in 
 temperature. A stone wall is colder than a lath and plaster partition, 
 and will always be damper. The remedy would be to lath and plaster 
 on battens fixed against the stone work, so as to prevent the stucco 
 coming into immediate contact with the stone; it would then be as 
 dry as any other part of the house. Dark paper-hangings are much 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 97 
 
 CHRISTOPHER WREN. 
 
 HE same year which witnessed the 
 death of the great Gustavus—that lion 
 of the Protestant Faith—upon the 
 blood-stained field of Lutzen, witnessed 
 also the birth, in the quiet Rectory 
 of East Knoyle, in Wiltshire, of the 
 greatest of British architects. This 
 same year was, moreover, memorable 
 in many other respects. The time was big with wars and 
 revolutions—national calamities and dynastic disasters. 
 Charles I. was then actively engaged in those suicidal 
 measures which caused his head to roll upon the scaffold 
 at Whitehall, and his family to linger in a painful exile. 
 In that year he made Wentworth, afterwards the Earl of 
 Strafford—he of the “ thorough policy”—his Deputy of 
 Ireland. For the purpose of raising money a number of 
 trade monopolies were created, and lords and gentlemen, 
 on pain of the royal displeasure, were commanded to 
 reside upon their own estates; and Councillor Sherfield 
 was prosecuted for breaking a window of Salisbury Cathe¬ 
 dral, on which said window was painted the history of the 
 Creation. For this indulgence of his anti-popish zeal the 
 worthy Councillor was mulcted in the sum of 500/. In 
 the same year a Court of Chivalry was erected for a trial of 
 combat between two fiery Scots—bight Lord Rea and 
 David Ramsay. Nothing, however, came of the affair, 
 for the King interposing, the belligerent Scots were 
 under the necessity of suppressing their wrath, or else of 
 gratifying their mutual animosity by some other method. 
 Oxford then, as now, was troubled with the heretical out¬ 
 breaks of some of her sons, for we find that three of her 
 doctors were expelled for preaching against Arminianism; 
 and Mount Vesuvius, as if determined to throw a lurid 
 and appropriate light upon such mad and foolish doings, 
 threw forth its flames and lava in such copious streams as 
 to destroy 4000 people, and lay waste an immense 
 extent of country. 
 
 To those curious as to striking coincidence, it may he 
 agreeable to be told that in the year preceding the birth 
 of Wren—that is, in 1631—no less a sum than 100,000/. 
 had been collected in the City of London towards the re¬ 
 pairing and adorning of the old cathedral of St. Paul’s. 
 
 Regarding the year of Sir Christopher’s birth there 
 have been some conflicting statements; but all his bio¬ 
 graphers are now agreed that it took place on the 20 th of 
 October, 1632. His father was, besides being Chaplain 
 in Ordinary to King Charles, Dean of Windsor and 
 Rector of East Knoyle. The Wrens, who claimed to be 
 of a Scandinavian stock, were all of them sturdy royalists, 
 and generally contrived to have a reasonably good share 
 of the State and Church loaves and fishes. 
 
 The uncle of the subject of our memoir was the well- 
 known Dr. Matthew Wren, successively Bishop of 
 Norwich, Hereford, and Ely. Than this same Bishop, 
 Oliver Cromwell had not a more fierce and implacable 
 enemy. His devotion to the Crown cost him twenty 
 years’ imprisonment in the Tower. This long incarcera- 
 4 
 
 tion, however, was the result rather of his own obstinacy 
 than of any desire on the part of the great Protector 
 to deprive him of his liberty. It was this faithful 
 Churchman who composed the form of prayer used on 
 the 29th of May, in commemoration of the happy 
 restoration of royalty to these realms. He is also 
 remembered as having built the chapel of Pembroke 
 Hall, Cambridge, of which his nephew, Christopher, was 
 the architect. 
 
 Young Wren, the future architect of St. Paul’s, was a 
 delicate infant; his first education was therefore con¬ 
 ducted at home. He was afterwards sent to Westminster 
 School, then presided over by the celebrated Dr. Busby. 
 From Westminster school he went to Wadham College, 
 Oxford. This was in his fourteenth year; but long before 
 he arrived at this age the extraordinary intellectual 
 powers of Wren were the subject of remark and astonish¬ 
 ment to all his acquaintances; in fact, the future architect 
 of St. Paul’s was a perfect prodigy of precocious mental 
 ability. When little more than a mere child, Aubrey, 
 the Wiltshire antiquary, described him as a “ youth of 
 prodigious inventive wit.” When no more than thirteen 
 years of age he invented an astronomical instrument, a 
 pneumatic engine, and another very ingenious instrument 
 for use in practical gnomics. At fourteen he was pre¬ 
 sented to the Elector Palatine, who then paid a visit to 
 Oxford, as “ a prodigy of science.” These rich promises 
 of Wren’s boyhood were amply fulfilled by the perform¬ 
 ances of his manhood. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to 
 assert that Sir Christopher Wren was one of the greatest 
 geniuses, as a mathematician and mechanician, that ever 
 lived. This is a bold statement, but one which is abun¬ 
 dantly warranted by the facts of the case. The bare 
 mention of a few of his mechanical and scientific inven¬ 
 tions, when quite a young man, will substantiate his right 
 to this high praise. Amongst these inventions are— 
 
 1. Hypothesis of the moon’s libration in solid. 
 
 2. A new projective goniscope. 
 
 3. To find if the earth moves. 
 
 4. The weather-wheel. 
 
 5. The weather-clock. 
 
 6. Perpetual motion, or weather-wheel and weather-clock 
 
 compounded. 
 
 7. Balance to weigh without weights. 
 
 8. To write in the dark. 
 
 9. To write double by an instrument. 
 
 10. A scenographical instrument <to survey at one station. 
 
 11. Several new ways of graving and etching. 
 
 12. To weave many ribbons at once with only turning a 
 
 wheel. 
 
 13. Divers new engines for raising water. 
 
 14. A pavement harder, fairer, and cheaper than marble. 
 
 15. A way of embroidery for beds cheap and fair. 
 
 16. New ways of printing. 
 
 17. Pneumatic engines. 
 
 18. New designs tending to strength, convenience, and 
 
 beauty in buildings. 
 
 19. Divers new musical instruments. 
 
 20. New ways of sailing. 
 
 o 
 
98 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 21. Best way for reckoning time, way, and longitude 
 
 at sea. 
 
 22. Probable ways for making fresb water at sea. 
 
 23. Fabric for a vessel of war. 
 
 24. To build forts and moles in the sea. 
 
 25. Inventions for making and fortifying havens, clearing 
 
 sands, and to sound at sea. 
 
 26. Ways of submarine navigation. 
 
 27. New offensive and defensive weapons. 
 
 28. Easier ways of whale-fisliing. 
 
 29. Secure and speedier ways of attacking forts by ap¬ 
 
 proaches and galleons. 
 
 30. Some inventions in fortification. 
 
 31. To pierce a rock in mining. 
 
 32. To alter the mass of living matter by injection into 
 
 the blood. 
 
 33. To measure the basis and height of a mountain only 
 
 by journeying over it. 
 
 34. To measure the straight distance by travelling the 
 
 winding way. 
 
 35. A compass to play in the coach or the hand of the 
 
 rider. 
 
 But Wren was something more than a splendid mathe¬ 
 matical and mechanical genius; he was also a classical 
 scholar of more than average attainments. He was in the 
 habit of writing Latin descriptions, both in prose and 
 verse, of his university studies. In his sixteenth year, at 
 the suggestion of Sir Charles Scarborough, a profound 
 mathematician, he translated Mr. Oughtred’s work on 
 Geometrical Dialling into Latin. In 1647, when only in 
 his fifteenth year, he became Demonstrating Assistant on 
 Anatomy at Surgeons’ Hall to his friend and patron, Dr. 
 Sir Charles Scarborough. In the very exultant letter 
 which he penned to his father on this occasion, he men¬ 
 tions an invention of a weather-clock, and also of an instru¬ 
 ment for writing in the dark. 1647, being his fifteenth 
 year, is a remarkable epoch in the unfolding of Sir Chris¬ 
 topher’s mind. In that year Pope Innocent X. proclaimed 
 to the whole world the completion of the Cathedral of 
 St. Peter. In England, though a Protestant country, this 
 event, as it did throughout the other nations of Christendom, 
 produced a considerable sensation, and it is no more than 
 reasonable to assume that on a mind so sensitive and ob¬ 
 servant as Wren’s, it had the effect of inciting him to a 
 closer intimacy with the arts of design.. To his ability as 
 a mathematician and designer is attributable the fact that 
 the idea and plan of St. Paul’s is the sole creation of his 
 own inventive mind, whereas .St. Peter’s was the work of 
 more than twenty architects, supported by the treasure of 
 the whole Christian world, and the authority of the Roman 
 Pontiffs in the full plenitude of their power, and during 
 the reigns of nineteen successive Popes. 
 
 In a notice like the present we cannot give a detailed 
 description of Wren’s rapid advancement to the lofty emi¬ 
 nence to which he ultimately attained. All that our 
 limited space permits us to do is to indicate the principal 
 stages or landmarks in his long and luminous career. 
 
 In 1653 he took his degree of Master of Arts at Oxford 
 University. In the same year he was chosen Fellow of 
 
 All Souls’ College; two years after he was chosen Pro¬ 
 fessor of Astronomy at Gresham College, London. In 1660 
 he was elected Savilian Professor of Astronomy, Oxford. 
 His inaugural address on this occasion shows that his con¬ 
 ception of the claims of astronomy is commensurate with 
 the majesty of the imperial science. In 1661 he received 
 the degree of LL.D.; in 1663 he was elected Fellow of the 
 Royal Society; in 1665 he travelled in France to examine 
 the most beautiful specimens of architecture in that 
 country; in 1666 occurred that memorable and terrible 
 event which gave full play to the magnificent constructive 
 powers which Wren received from the Divine Architect of 
 the Universe. This event was no other than the Great 
 Fire of London. From the descriptions of several com¬ 
 petent eye-witnesses we have a vivid picture of that awful 
 and sublime conflagration. Probably the best accounts of 
 the Great Fire are those given by the pens of Samuel 
 Pepys and John Evelyn. From these we learn that on 
 the night of Saturday the 1st, or the morning of Sunday, 
 September 2nd, 1666, burst forth that awful fire which 
 cleared the field for the exercise of Wren’s genius. On 
 that morning Mr. Pepys was roused from his sleep, and 
 informed that a great fire had broken out. Mr. Pepys then 
 lived in Seething-lane, by the Tower. By the appearance 
 from his window he conceived this fire to be in the neigh¬ 
 bourhood of Mark-lane. Shortly afterwards he was 
 told that more than three hundred houses were then 
 burning down all Fish-street towards London-bridge. 
 Pepys hurried to the Tower, and from the summit of one 
 of its highest turrets beheld the houses at that end of the 
 bridge all on fire, which raged fiercely on both sides. The 
 Lieutenant-Govexmor of the Tower informed Mr. Pepys 
 that the fire had begun at Faryner’s, the King’s baker, in 
 Pudding-lane, and had already burnt down St. Magnus’s 
 Church and the greater part of Fish-street. Mr. Pepys 
 then took a boat, passed through the bridge, saw the fire 
 extending to the Old Swan, and before he left, the wai’e- 
 liouses in the Steel-yard were on fire. The consternation 
 of the citizens was dreadful, their confusion indesci-ibable. 
 Every one was endeavouring to remove his goods, some in 
 their despair rolling or pitching them into the l’iver, others 
 putting them into lighters; many poor people stayed in 
 their houses till driven out by tbe flames, then they rushed 
 into the boats, or dropped or jumped from their windows 
 into the water. The curious and indefatigable Mr. Pepys 
 went by river to Whitehall, saw the King and the Duke 
 of York, told them of the terrible progress made by the fire, 
 and obtained from his Majesty an order to the Lord Mayor 
 to spare no houses, but to pull them down in every direc¬ 
 tion, in order to isolate the fire. But nothing effectual 
 came of all this—the conflagration could not be arrested. 
 The whole city was in flames, burning from Cheapside to 
 the Thames, all along Cornhill, Tower-street, Fenchurch- 
 street, Gracechurch-street, almost to the Tower; westward 
 to Baynard’s Castle, and northward to St. Paul’s Cathedral, 
 the burning of which was increased, if not caused, by the 
 scaffolding erected by the Commissioner's for its proposed 
 reparations. The people were so petrified by terror and 
 astonishment, that they hardly made any efforts to stop or 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 99 
 
 quench the fire. “ There was nothing heard or seen but 
 crying out and lamentation/ 5 the citizens running about like 
 distracted creatures. The scene was sublime in its terrible 
 splendours. “The sky/ 5 says Evelyn, “was of a fiery 
 aspect, like the top of a mighty burning oven, and the 
 light was seen above forty miles round for many nights, and 
 the air appeared ignited by the preceding hot and sultry 
 summer, which had prepared the materials to conceive the 
 fire which devoured houses, churches, public halls, the 
 Exchange, hospitals, monuments, ornaments, furniture, 
 goods, and everything that came in its way. The noise 
 and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, the 
 shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the 
 falling of lofty towers, houses, and churches, were like a 
 hideous tempest, while the atmosphere was so hot as to be 
 almost unbreathable. 55 “ God grant mine eyes may never 
 again behold the like/ 5 writes the pious Evelyn, who now 
 saw ten thousand houses all in one flame. 
 
 This fire, which began on the 2nd of September, raged 
 with unchecked vehemence till the Sth. On the 10th, the 
 greater portion of the City of London was but a heap of 
 blazing embers; but on the 12th Evelyn laid before the 
 King a survey of the ruins, a sketch for the new city, and 
 a dissertation on the best mode of performing so large a 
 work. Hook also presented a model for rebuilding tbe 
 new city, which model received the approbation of the Lord 
 Mayor. 
 
 Wren, with his accustomed alacrity, and in accordance 
 with the duties of his office, commenced a plan for building 
 a new city on the site of the old one, and presented it to 
 the King and Council some days before that of Hook. 
 This caused some unpleasantness in the Royal Society, of 
 which both Hook and Wren were distinguished members. 
 The members of the Society complained that Wren’s plan 
 had not been first submitted to them. Wren replied that 
 he was so pressed for time that he could not possibly 
 afford to consult his brother members, before submitting 
 the design to his Majesty. The plea was accepted, and 
 the offended pride of the Royal savans appeased. 
 
 It may be necessary here to state that some years an¬ 
 terior to this event of the Great Eire, Wren had been 
 consulted, and indeed engaged on the work of tbe repair 
 and restoration of “ Old 55 St. Paul’s. This fine Gothic 
 structure, which had its foundations laid towards the close 
 of the eleventh century, and which was the scene of some 
 of the most striking historical spectacles witnessed in 
 England through the course of five eventful centuries, was 
 during the Civil Wars subjected to almost every conceiv¬ 
 able species of degradation and insult. Its revenues had 
 been seized,its ministers expelled, its monumentsdcstroyed, 
 or their inscriptions obliterated, saw-pits were dug in 
 various parts of its enclosure, and the Cromwellian horse 
 stabled within its venerable choir. The reparation of this 
 sacred edifice was one of the principal objects which occu¬ 
 pied the mind of Charles II. after his restoration to the 
 throne of his fathers. Wren and his friend Evelyn were 
 members of the Royal Commission appointed to direct and 
 superintend the execution of this work of restoration. The 
 “ great fire,” however, as we have seen, put an end, or 
 
 rather gave a new dii’ection to the operations of these 
 “ Commissioners.” On the 12th of September, Evelyn 
 laid before the King a survey of the ruins, and a sketch of 
 the proposed new city. The plan of Wren was of much 
 more comprehensive nature; part of that magnificent 
 plan, which has even yet to be realized, was that a grand 
 quay or esplanade—that is, a regular “ Thames embank¬ 
 ment”—should be formed along the river, from the foot 
 of London Bridge to the Temple. This quay was to be 
 40 feet in width between the river and the houses on its 
 banks. This noble idea, which originated in the fertile 
 mind of Wren, and which would have rendered London 
 the finest as well as the greatest city in the world, is now, 
 after the lapse of nearly two hundred years, in a fair way 
 of being carried into effect. 
 
 To Wren, whose scientific genius all Europe acknow¬ 
 ledged, and whose architectural ability was made known 
 to the nation by his designs of Pembroke College, Cam¬ 
 bridge, and the Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford, was entrusted 
 the plan of the new St. Paul’s. The first stone of the pre¬ 
 sent cathedral was laid on the 21st of June, 1.675, by the 
 architect himself, assisted by Thomas Strong, his master 
 mason; and the second stone by Mr. Longland. “ In the 
 beginning of the new works of St. Paul’s,” writes Wren 
 himself, “ an incident was taken notice of by many people 
 as a memorable omen; when the surveyor (that is Sir 
 Christopher) in person had set out upon the place the 
 dimensions of the great dome, and fixed upon the centre, 
 a common labourer was ordered to bring a flat stone from 
 the heaps of rubbish (such as should first come to hand) 
 to be laid for a mark and direction to the masons; the 
 stone, which was immediately brought and laid down for 
 that purpose, happened to be a piece of gravestone with 
 nothing remaining of the inscription but this single word, 
 in large capitals, ‘RESURGAM’ (I shall rise again).” 
 This seemingly trivial incident made a deep impression on 
 the mind of the architect, as may be seen by the decora¬ 
 tions of the pediment over the northern portico, where an 
 exquisitely-sculptured Phoenix rising from the flames, with 
 the motto “ Resurgam” has been placed ; and St. Paul’s 
 has indeed risen again in almost perfect beauty and 
 grandeur. It is beyond all doubt one of the noblest places 
 of worship ever reared by the hand of man. For dignity 
 and elegance, and simple majesty of form, no church in 
 Europe can compare with it. On this matter, in spite of 
 all our respect and even reverence for Ruskin, we cannot 
 help asserting that he has been grossly, though uncon¬ 
 sciously, unjust to Sir Christopher Wren, to St. Paul’s, 
 and to himself. In depreciating the architectural qualities 
 of St. Paul’s, the author of the “Stones of Venice” has 
 shown that the taste and judgment of the ablest men may 
 be perverted by a too exclusive devotion to one particular 
 object of admiration. In Mr. Ruskin, as in many other 
 great and good men, earnestness has degenerated into in¬ 
 tolerance ; his worship of the Gothic has assumed the 
 aspect of a fanatical and even ferocious hatred to every 
 other style of architecture. But the reputation of Wren 
 has nothing to apprehend from the disapprobation of 
 Ruskin. The Gothic, with all its undoubted, and we will 
 
 o 2 
 
100 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 say paramount, merits, does not monopolize the whole of 
 the beautiful; other forms of architecture have a glory of 
 their own; and as long as the human mind is constituted 
 as it is, the chasteness and simplicity of the Greek, the 
 strength and grandeur of the Roman styles of building, 
 will share its admiration in common with the charming 
 variety, the wondrous flexibility, and the suggestive sym¬ 
 bolism of the Gothic. It is right that it should be so. 
 In {esthetics, as in theology, sectarianism is hostile to the 
 spirit of true worship. The forms of the beautiful are as 
 infinite as the Deity, whose garment it is. We admire 
 the redness of the rose without despising the paleness of 
 the lily. In the same manner, a feeling of religious vene¬ 
 ration for the sublime beauties of Westminster Abbey is 
 not incompatible with a deep, heartfelt admiration for the 
 massive majesty of St. Paul’s. But for the appreciation 
 of the manifold beauties of this masterpiece of Wren’s, 
 no scientific guidance or special instruction is required; 
 all that is wanted is an open sense and an unsophisticated 
 mind. Given these, and not even the eloquent depreciation 
 of Ruskin multiplied ten thousandfold can prevent the 
 mind from experiencing a satisfied and solemnizing sen¬ 
 sation from the appearance of the greatest and finest 
 church ever reared for the celebration of Protestant 
 worship. But beautiful as the great cathedral of the 
 metropolis is, and though it is justly considered next in 
 rank after St. Peter’s, of Rome, the genius of Wren must 
 not he estimated wholly from it as it exists. His original 
 and favourite plan was one in the form of a Greek cross, 
 and of a single order of height, with a dome as large as 
 that of St. Peter’s. The form of the Latin cross and the 
 screen wall were modifications forced upon him by the 
 imperious bigotry of the Duke of York, afterwards 
 James II., who conceived that with these deviations from 
 the simplicity of the original design, St. Paul’s would be 
 better fitted for the performance of the ceremonial of the 
 Romish worship, which he contemplated re-establishing. 
 Sir Christopher Wren, though distinguished for exterior 
 calmness and the power of suppressing emotion, is said to 
 have shed tears of vexation because of this marring of his 
 first idea. St. Paul’s took thirty-five years in being built, 
 and its last stone was laid by the son of the architect, 
 Christopher Wren the younger, an eminent antiquary and 
 estimable gentleman. Wren’s practice as an architect 
 was, perhaps, the most extensive ever enjoyed by one man. 
 The whole of the buildings which he deigned cannot now 
 be determined, hut the subjoined chronological list of some 
 of his works will enable us to form an idea of the truly 
 Herculean character of his labours. 
 
 Chronological List of the Principal Buildings planned by 
 Sir Christopher Wren. 
 
 1663. Pembroke College Chapel, Cambridge. 
 
 1661-69. Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford. 
 
 1664. Buildings at Trinity College, Cambridge. 
 
 1666. Library ditto ditto 
 
 1667. Royal Exchange, London. 
 
 1668-77. Emmanuel College Chapel, Cambridge. 
 
 1668. Custom House, London. 
 
 1670. Temple Bar. 
 
 1670- 74. St. Sepulchre’s, Newgate. 
 
 1671- 78. Spire and Church of St. Mary’s-le-Bow. 
 
 1671- 86. St. Lawrence, Jewry. 
 
 1672- 79. St. Stephen’s, Walbrook. 
 
 1672. St. Michael’s, Cornhill. 
 
 1672. St. Mary’s-at-Hill. 
 
 1673. St. Bennet Pink, Threadneedle-street (dome now 
 
 taken down). 
 
 1674-98. College of Physicians, Warwick-lane (now con¬ 
 verted into a market). 
 
 1675. St. Paul’s (finished 1710). 
 
 1675. Royal Observatory, Greenwich. 
 
 1680. St. Bride’s, Fleet-street; also St. Swithin’s. 
 
 1681- 82. Gateway Tower, Christ Church, Oxford. 
 
 1682- 90. Chelsea Hospital. 
 
 1682. St. Antholine’s, Watling-street. 
 
 1683. The Palace at Winchester (left unfinished, now a 
 
 barracks). 
 
 1683. Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. 
 
 1683. St. James’s, Westminster. 
 
 1683- 86. St. Clement’s, Eastcheap. 
 
 1684. St. Martin’s, Ludgate. 
 
 1684. Made Controller of Works at Windsor Castle. 
 
 1686. St. Andrew’s, Ilolborn. 
 
 1687-1704. Christ Church, Newgate. 
 
 1690. Hampton Court. 
 
 1692. Morden College, Blackheath. 
 
 1696. Greenwich Hospital. 
 
 1698. St. Dunstan’s in the East (tower and spire). 
 
 1703. Buckingham House, London (now taken down). 
 
 1709. Marlborough House, London. 
 
 1713. Towers of West Front of Westminster Abbey. 
 
 Wren was never less happy than in his design of Hamp¬ 
 ton Court. For this, however, the King and not the archi¬ 
 tect was to blame. William III., though a brave soldier 
 and wise statesman, was not pre-eminent for his good 
 taste in the fine arts. He had, however, what was much 
 better, the courage and the love of truth which would not 
 allow him to hear the architect blamed for the faults of 
 his master. Thus when some of his courtiers found fault 
 with the lowness and disproportionate arrangement of the 
 cloisters or arcade below the royal apartments at Hampton 
 Court, William at once declared that they had been so 
 constructed by his express command. After this royal 
 declaration the courtier censors of the great architect 
 found no further fault with the low cloisters and heavy 
 appearance of Hampton Palace. 
 
 Next to St. Paul’s, the two most important of Wren’s 
 national buildings are Chelsea and Greenwich Hospitals. 
 The latter of these noble institutions is in Wren’s best 
 style. Any one who looks on that splendid pile stretching 
 along the bank of the Thames, will perceive at once that 
 it is the work of the same mind which conceived St. Paul’s 
 Cathedral; the domes seem facsimiles, and much of the 
 details carry on the resemblance. For his plan of Green¬ 
 wich Hospital Wren refused to accept auy remuneration, 
 deeming it a sufficient reward for his services to have the 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 101 
 
 honour of contributing towards the payment of the debt 
 of gratitude which England owes to her matchless ocean 
 warriors. 
 
 The life of this truly great and good man spanned a 
 period of seven reigns. He was seventeen years old when 
 the unfortunate Charles I. was beheaded. He was known 
 to and highly esteemed by Oliver Cromwell. Charles II., 
 who, whatever his defects may have been, had the faculty 
 of knowing a great man when he met one, did honour 
 to himself by bestowing his confidence on Sir Christopher 
 Wren. James II., though he thwarted the intention and 
 marred the noblest of his designs, could not but admire 
 the genius of the architect of St. Paul's. In the estima¬ 
 tion of William and Mary he stood higher than in the 
 estimation of any of their predecessors. He was at least 
 equally honoured by Queen Anne and her Ministers. As 
 for George I., there is not a blacker spot on the character 
 of his inglorious reign than the treatment to which in his 
 name Wren was exposed. His enemies, by his own in¬ 
 trepid integrity and the indignant voice of the nation, 
 were defeated in their mean and malignant attempt to 
 deprive him of the very inadequate and even paltry amount 
 of money assigned to him for his labours in connexion 
 with St. Paul's. Still they indulged in the hope of re¬ 
 venge, and their day of triumph was, unfortunately for 
 the honour of their country, not far distant. Queen Anne 
 was succeeded by one who could not feel the worth and 
 genius of the great architect. “ The first king of the 
 House of Brunswick, a coarse and vulgar man in all re¬ 
 spects, seems from the beginning to have looked with an 
 evil eye on Wren. The great architect had a high spirit. 
 He maintained the erect dignity of genius, and demeaned 
 himself more as might become a man of talent at the 
 elegant Court of the first Charles, than like a shrewd wor¬ 
 shipper of fortune in the days of the first George. His 
 reserve was misunderstood or misrepresented :— 
 
 Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, 
 
 He had not the method of making his fortune, 
 
 and this fall was predicted long before it happened."* The 
 King, who could not be expected to know personally much 
 of Wren, was told that he was stiff, opinionative, self-suffi¬ 
 cient, untractable, and withal, not over loyal to the new 
 dynasty. On the other hand, a young and supple quack, by 
 name Benson, an architect without either talent or science, 
 was extolled as a second Palladio. The Germans all joined 
 in this Benson’s praise, and the result was, that in 1718, 
 Sir Christopher Wren, in the eighty-sixth year of his age, 
 and the forty-ninth of his office as Surveyor-general to 
 the royal buildings, was dismissed ignominiously, and the 
 smooth pretender Benson installed in his place. The whole 
 nation was indignant at this most gross and disgusting job, 
 and the boldest and foremost men in the country cried 
 shame upon the infamous intriguers who had succeeded in 
 passing this slight upon one of the noblest of England’s 
 sons. Seward and Walpole, and Pope and Steele, gave 
 tongue to the deep and heartfelt feeling of indignant dis¬ 
 gust which was entei’tained by the whole community. 
 
 * Cunningham’s “Life of Wren.” 
 
 Wren, however, seems to have been much less affected 
 than his friends, The income of which it deprived him he 
 disregarded; for there was nothing mean or sordid in his 
 nature, and he had thought but little of money in the 
 days when he could have it showered upon him from king 
 and noble. He betook himself to a country retirement at 
 Hampton Court, where he had a house on lease from the 
 Government. There, in addition to his study of the Scrip¬ 
 tures, he delighted himself with a reconsideration of his 
 thoughts for the discovery of the longitude at sea, and 
 dipped now and then with something of his juvenile ardour 
 into mathematics and astronomy. But his chief pleasure 
 lay in coming occasionally to London to inspect the pro¬ 
 gress of the repairs of Westminster Abbey—where in a 
 moment when bad taste prevailed against the usual cor¬ 
 rectness of his judgment he had directed the western 
 towers to be restored in mingled Grecian and Gothic—and 
 in visiting St. Paul’s, “ a fabric," says Walpole, “ which 
 one cannot wonder left such an impression of content on 
 the mind of the good old man, that being carried to see it, 
 it seemed to recal a memory that was almost deadened to 
 every other use." 
 
 Until very near the close of his life the vigour of his 
 mind remained quite unimpaired. His decay was gradual. 
 Death worked his mission on the good and brave old man 
 by gentle and almost imperceptible degrees. The limbs of 
 Wren were the first to fail. His end was hastened by a 
 cold which he caught in journeying between London and 
 Hampton Court. He died, free from pain and in perfect 
 peace with all men, on the 23rd day of February, 1723, in 
 the ninety-first year of his age. He was buried in the vault 
 of St. Paul's Cathedral, with an inscription of four memo¬ 
 rable words, which though they point to the greatest of his 
 works, do not embody the entire greatness of his mind :— 
 
 Si monumentum quasris, cireumspice. 
 
 (Wouldst thou see his monument ? Look around thee.) 
 
 Such is a brief outline of the life and achievements of 
 one of the greatest Englishmen that ever lived—a man 
 whose intellect even those who have most vehemently 
 depreciated his works admit to have been stupendous, 
 and worthy to take rank beside that of Michael Angelo, 
 and whose morals passed pure and unstained through a 
 black sea of unprecedented pollution; for it was the fate 
 of Wren to have lived through the foulest period of 
 English history. But panoplied in his love of science, 
 and his unflagging faith in the eternal verities of re¬ 
 vealed religion, the prevailing impurity could not touch the 
 texture of his soul, far less impart a stain to it. 
 
 «The personal appearance, we are told, was highly prepos¬ 
 sessing. He is recorded to have been of low stature, his 
 forehead broad and fair, his nose slightly aquiline, the 
 eyes large and expressive, and the whole aspect stamped 
 with intelligence and dignity. He was light and active 
 of body ; he walked with a certain stableness of air, and 
 his constitution, which was rather delicate, was, it is 
 said, saved from consumption by habits of temperance 
 and regularity. That he was short of stature, a tradition 
 preserved by Seward sufficiently shows. Charles II., on 
 walking through his newly erected hunting palace at 
 
ABCHITECTUBE OF THE VICTOK1AN AGE. 
 
 102 
 
 Newmarket, said, “ These rooms are too low.” Wren, 
 who was present, went up to the King and replied, “And 
 please your majesty, I think them high enough.” Where¬ 
 upon Charles, stooping down to Sir Christopher’s stature, 
 answered, with a smile, “ On second thoughts, I think so 
 too.” 
 
 Wren was twice married; first to a daughter of Sir John 
 Cogliill, and second to a daughter of Viscount Fitzwilliam, 
 an Irish peer. His son, by the first marriage, Christopher 
 Wren, already referred to, sat in Parliament for Windsor, 
 and was the principal author of the “ Parentalia, or Me¬ 
 moirs of the Family of the Wrens.” This work, which 
 the son of the architect left unfinished, was completed by 
 the grandson, and given to the world in 1750. The great 
 architect, in addition to having been knighted, had the 
 honour of being elected President of the Royal Society, 
 and of being chosen to represent successively Plymouth 
 and Melcombe Regis in the imperial legislature. He was 
 also one of the Commissioners of Chelsea College. In 
 conclusion, it may be here stated, that all that the despi¬ 
 cable Benson derived from his displacement of Wren was, 
 with the exception of the paltry salary, a dismissal at the 
 end of about a twelvemonth for gross incompetency, and 
 a condemnation to evei’lasting fame in the scathing verse 
 of Pope’s immortal satire. 
 
 MARBLE APPLIED TO BUILDING AND 
 ORNAMENTAL PURPOSES. 
 
 There is no variety of stone with which our ideas of 
 beauty and utility are so closely associated as that of 
 marble. Our thoughts of grandeur and magnificence are 
 centered in “ marble halls;” for ornamental purposes, 
 whether in a floor or mantelpiece, we think of nothing 
 but marble, and the choice and enduring works of the 
 sculptor s art, in which genius has rendered its efforts im- 
 mortal, are preserved for us in this plentiful and beautiful 
 material. Paint fades with time, the canvas decays, the 
 book will perish; but the artist who toiled on the Venus 
 de Medici, although his name be forgotten, has left the 
 divine form upon which he laboured still uninjured by 
 the centuries which have passed over it, simply because he 
 worked in Parian marble. We propose in this article to 
 give a brief, popular sketch of the varieties of marble in 
 this and other countries, as well as some general idea of 
 its use for the erection and adornment of buildings, both 
 public and private, and also for artistic purposes. 
 
 Consider, then, first, what marble seems to have been 
 made for. Over the greater part of the surface of the 
 world, we find that a rock has been providentially distri¬ 
 buted, in a manner particularly pointing it out as intended 
 for the service of man. Not altogether a common rock, 
 it is yet rare enough to command a certain degree of in¬ 
 terest and attention wherever it is found, but not so rare 
 as to preclude its use from any purpose to which it is 
 fitted. It is exactly of the consistence which is best 
 adapted for sculpture—that is to say, neither hard nor 
 brittle, not flakey or splintery, but uniform, and delicately 
 
 yet not ignobly soft—exactly soft enough to allow the 
 sculptor to work it without force, and trace on it the finest 
 lines of finished forms, and yet so hard as never to betray 
 the touch, or moulder away beneath the steel; and so 
 admirably crystallized, and of such permanent elements, 
 that no rain dissolves it, no time changes it, no atmo¬ 
 sphere decomposes it. Once shaped it is shaped for ever, 
 unless subjected to actual violence or attrition. This rock, 
 then, is prepared by Nature for the sculptor and the 
 architect, just as paper is prepared by the manufacturer 
 for the artist, with as great—nay, with greater—care and 
 more perfect adaptation of the material to the require¬ 
 ments. And of the marble paper some is white and some 
 coloured, but more is coloured than white, because the 
 wdiite is evidently meant for sculpture, and the coloured 
 for covering large surfaces.* 
 
 In the following pages we shall use the term marble in 
 the sense in which it is employed by architects and 
 sculptors rather than in the sense in which it is used by 
 the mineralogists. With us it is applied to all stones 
 harder than gypsum, which are found in large masses and 
 are susceptible of a good polish. On this principle, under 
 the head of marble, are included many varieties of lime¬ 
 stone, porphyry, and even granite and fine-grained basalts. 
 But with mineralogists, the word is used in a much more 
 restricted sense, and is confined to such varieties of dolo¬ 
 mite, and compact, and granularly foliated limestone, 
 as are capable of receiving a good polish. 
 
 Marble, then, assumes almost every variety of colour 
 and texture. It is sometimes white, black, grey, green, 
 blue, and spotted, according to the source from which it is 
 drawn, or the circumstances under which it was found. 
 De Costa, in his “ Natural History of Fossils,” gives a 
 large catalogue of marbles disposed in methodical order; 
 the following is an abridged analysis of his classifica¬ 
 tion :— 
 
 Division I.—Marbles of One Plain Colour. 
 
 Section 1. Black marbles; most of these contain bitu¬ 
 men, and are foetid when bruised. 
 
 Examples. —The Numar marbles; the marbles of 
 Ashford, in Derbyshire; Dent, in Yorkshire; near 
 Crickhowell; Tenby; Kilkenny, &c. The marbles 
 anciently called Marmor Luculleum, and now Nero 
 Antico. 
 
 Section 2. White marbles. 
 
 Examples. —The marbles of Paros, in which the 
 Laocoon and Antinous are executed; the Carrara 
 marble of finer grain, much used in modern sculp¬ 
 ture; the Skye marble, noticed by Dr. M'Culloch; 
 that of Inverness, Assynt, Blair Athol, &c. &c. 
 
 Section 3. Ash and gray marbles. 
 
 Examples. —A beautiful marble of compact oolitic 
 texture, at Orelton, near the Glee Hills, in Shrop¬ 
 shire, deserves mention. 
 
 Section 4. Brown and red marbles. 
 
 Examples. —The Rosso Antico; a rival to which, at 
 
 * “ Stones of Venice,” vol. in. p. 27. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 103 
 
 least in colour, has been found on ihe estate of the 
 Duke of Devonshire, near Buxton. The mottled 
 brown marble of Beetham Fell, near Milnthorp, is of 
 good quality. 
 
 Section 5. Yellow marbles. 
 
 Examples. —The Gallio Antico. Siena marble, also 
 dug at Mafra, near Lisbon. That used in ancient 
 Rome is said to be from Numidia. 
 
 Section 6. Blue marbles. 
 
 Examples may be found near St. Pons, in Lan¬ 
 guedoc. 
 
 Section 7. Green marbles. 
 
 Example. —The Marmor Lacedsemonicum of Pliny. 
 It is found near Verona. 
 
 Bivision II.—Marbles of Two Colours. 
 
 Section 1. Black marbles variegated with other colours. 
 
 Examples. —The quarries near Ashburton and Tor¬ 
 quay, in Devonshire; Bianco e Nero Antico; the 
 African Breccia of the ancients, Giallo e Nero Antico. 
 
 Section 2. White marbles variegated with other colours. 
 
 Examples. —Marble imported from Italy. Marbles 
 of this general character are found in Siberia, at 
 Plymouth, at Killarney, and in Sweden. 
 
 Section 3. Ash-gray marbles variegated with other 
 colours. These are very numerous, and occur in 
 various parts of Europe. 
 
 Section 4. Brown and red marbles variegated with 
 other colours. 
 
 Section 5. Yellow marbles variegated with other 
 colours. 
 
 . Section 6. Green marbles variegated with other colours. 
 
 Examples. —Egyptian marbles. The Marmor Ti- 
 berium and Augustum of Pliny ; some Verde Antico, 
 as that dug near Susa, in Piedmont; the beautiful 
 marble of Anglesea, called Mona marble, and that 
 also of Kolmerden in Sweden. 
 
 Division III.—Marbles Variegated with many Colours. 
 
 Examples. — Some of the Plymouth marbles; the 
 beautiful Brocatello, or brocade marble of Italy and 
 Spain. 
 
 Division IV.—Marbles containing Shells, Corals, and other 
 Extraneous Bodies. 
 
 In this last division of marbles the British islands are 
 exceedingly rich. Some of the Plymouth, Ashburton, and 
 other Devonian limestones are exquisitely beautiful, from 
 the number of fine corals which are preserved in them. 
 Splendid examples of the carboniferous limestone may be 
 found in the crinoidal marbles of Flintshire, Derbyshire, and 
 Gardsdale in Yorkshire; the shell marbles from the oolite 
 rocks are also very fine, and were used extensively by the 
 architects of the Middle Ages. But amidst all this pro¬ 
 fusion of Nature we regret to add that the working of the 
 English marble quarries is costly, and that the use of this 
 beautiful material amongst us is in consequence very 
 limited. 
 
 It is not necessary for us to pursue this subject by 
 
 enumerating every kind of marble that has ever been 
 found, since this would be an unnecessary and almost 
 endless task. Sir George Head says that he saw in Rome 
 a collection of varieties of marble in pieces of the size of a 
 chessboard, or somewhat bigger, no less than four hun¬ 
 dred and eighty-eight specimens, all arranged in proper 
 order. 
 
 Marble, then, is the paper which Nature presents to 
 the architect and artist, on which they may expend their 
 genius and raise enduring monuments to their fame. Now, 
 if we take Nature at her word, and use this precious paper 
 which she has taken so much care to provide for us (it is 
 a long process, the making of that paper, the pulp of it 
 needing the subtlest possible solution, and the pressing of 
 it—for it is all hot-pressed—having to be done under the 
 sea, or under something at least as heavy); if, I say, we 
 use it as Nature would have us, consider what advantages 
 would follow. The colours of marble are mingled for us 
 just as if on a prepared palette; they are of all shades and 
 hues (except bad ones), some being united, and even some 
 broken, mixed, and interrupted, in order to supply as far 
 as possible the want of the painter’s power of breaking 
 and mingling the colour with the brush. But there is 
 more in the colours than this delicacy of adaptation; there 
 is history in them. By the manner in which they are 
 arranged in every piece of marble, they record the means 
 by which that marble has been produced, and the succes¬ 
 sive changes through which it has passed. And in all 
 their veins and zones the flame-like stainings, or broken 
 and disconnected lines, they write various legends, never 
 untrue, of the former political state of the mountain 
 kingdom to which they belonged, of its infirmities and 
 fortitudes, convulsions and consolidations, from the be¬ 
 ginning of time. 
 
 It is hardly possible, perhaps, for us to ascertain the 
 precise localities of the most famous marble quarries of 
 the ancients. They must have been numerous, since a vast 
 quantity of the material was used by both architects and 
 sculptors. The following were the principal varieties in 
 request by both Greek and Italian artists. 
 
 Parian Marble (Lychnites of the ancients) is of a yel¬ 
 lowish-white colour. The texture is fine and scaly, the 
 scales shining and placed in all directions. The ancient 
 ar tists, DijanusScyllis, Malus, and Micciades employed 
 it; they called it lychnites, because the quarries, it is said, 
 were wrought by lamp-light. Several of the principal 
 statues that have come down to us, (amongst others, the 
 famous Yenus de Medicis,) are made of Parian marble. 
 
 The Pentelic Marble, from Mount Penteles, near Athens, 
 supplied the material for most of the public monuments 
 of Athens; the Parthenon, the Propylecs, and the Hip¬ 
 podrome were built of it. It is more dense and finer- 
 grained than the Parian, and sometimes exhibits faint 
 greenish zones, produced by talc. The Torso, Discobolus 
 Reposing, and a few other statues that have survived the 
 wreck of time are formed of this marble. 
 
 The Greek White Marble is of a very bright, snow-white 
 colour, close fine grained, very hard, and takes a beautiful 
 polish. The quarries from which it was obtained are said 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 10T 
 
 to have been in Phrygia, near the river Coralus; and 
 Pliny says it was also found in Asia, in masses of small 
 dimensions. It was also obtained from Mount Caputo, 
 near Palermo, in Sicily, and from several islands in the 
 Archipelago. Amongst the statues of this marble in the 
 Napoleon Museum, the most remarkable are a Bacchus, 
 Zenon the Philosopher, and a bust known by the name of 
 Faune a la tache. 
 
 The White Marble of Luni, on the coast of Tuscany, is 
 fine, close-grained, exceedingly pure, and takes a very high 
 polish. It was employed in the most delicate work, and 
 was preferred by the Greeks to the Parian and Pentelic 
 marbles. It appears to he even finer than that of Carrara, 
 and is moreover free from those dark veins which fre¬ 
 quently occur in the latter. Most mineralogists are of 
 opinion that the Apollo Belvedere is Luni marble. 
 
 The Carrara Marble is well known, since it is almost the 
 only kind made use of by our modern sculptors. It was 
 also used extensively by the ancients, as is proved by the 
 great number of statues still extant in it. The quarries 
 are situated between Specia and Lucca, and are said 
 to have been opened in the time of Julius Csesar. It 
 is of a fine white colour, but often traversed by grey veins, 
 so that it is difficult to procure middle-sized pieces with¬ 
 out them. In the centre of the blocks of this marble 
 very limpid rock crystals are sometimes found, which are 
 called Carrara diamonds. It is also sometimes, like the 
 Pentelic marble, traversed by veins of greenish talc. 
 
 Besides these, the ancients used a great many coloured 
 marbles—black, green, red, spotted, and veined. The 
 most beautiful specimens that we have seen are the red 
 “ Fgyptum.” This beautiful marble is of a deep blood-red 
 colour, marked here and there with white veins, and, if 
 closely examined, is found to be sprinkled all over with 
 minute white dots, as if it were strewed with sand. But 
 the most esteemed variety of the rosso antico is that of a 
 very deep red without any veins, such as is seen in the 
 two antique chairs and in the bust of an Indian Bacchus, 
 in the Museum of Paris. It is not known where this 
 marble was obtained from; the conjecture is that it was 
 brought from Egypt, but even this is uncertain. 
 
 About a century ago six tables of a very singular kind 
 of marble were dug up, so the Abbe Fortis was told, at 
 Mandragone. “ They consist,” says Dr. Reece, “ of 
 white flexible marble of very fine grain. Being set on end 
 they bend, oscillating backwards and forwards; when laid 
 horizontally and raised at one end, they form a curve 
 beginning towards the middle; if placed on a table, and a 
 piece of wood laid under them, they make a salient curve, 
 and touch the table at both ends.” 
 
 As before remarked, the quarries from which the an¬ 
 cients derived their marbles are unknown, and if re-disco¬ 
 vered they would not in all probability pay for working. 
 Fortunately, almost every country is abundantly supplied 
 with many varieties of this stone. Asia, Africa, aud in¬ 
 deed every island of any importance, has it treasures of 
 marble. Dana gives the following account of marbles in 
 his “ Manual of Mineralogy,” with especial references to 
 the American sources of this substance:— 
 
 “ Statuary marble has been obtained in the United 
 States, but not of a quality equal to the foreign. Fine 
 building material is abundant along the western part of 
 Vermont, and south through [Massachusetts to western 
 Connecticut and eastern New York. In Berkshire countv, 
 [Massachusetts, marble is quarried annually to the value 
 of 200,000 dollars. The principal quarries are at Shef¬ 
 field, "West Stockbridge, New Ashford, New Marlborough, 
 Great Barrington, and Lanesborougli. The columns of 
 the Girard College are from Sheffield, where blocks fifty 
 feet long are sometimes blasted out; the material of the 
 City Hall, New York, came from "West Stockbridge; that 
 of the Capitol at Albany from Lanesborougli. At Stone- 
 ham is a fine statuary marble quarry, but it is difficult to 
 obtain large blocks. The variety from Great Barrington 
 is a handsome clouded marble. Some of the "West Stock- 
 bridge marble is flexible in thin pieces when first taken 
 out. There are Vermont localities at Dorset, Rutland, 
 Brandon, and Pittsford. Extensive quarries are opened 
 at New York, at Sing Sing; also at Patterson, Putnam 
 county, at Dover in Duchess county, in [Maine, at Thomas- 
 town. In Rhode Island, at Smithfield, a fine statuary 
 marble is found; in Maryland, a few miles east of Hagers¬ 
 town, twenty miles from Philadelphia, a fine clouded 
 variety is found. A fine dun-coloured marble is found at 
 New Ashford and Sheffield, Massachusetts, and at Pitts¬ 
 ford, Vermont. 
 
 “ The granular limestone, when coarse, usually crumbles 
 easily, and is not a good material for building ; but the 
 finer varieties are not exceeded in durability by any other 
 architectural rocks—not even by granite. 
 
 “ The impurities are sometimes so abundant as to ren¬ 
 der it useless. For statuary it is essential that it should 
 be uniform in tint, and without seams or fissures. 
 
 “ The common minerals in this rock are tremolite, 
 asbestus, scapolite, chrondrodite, pyroxolite, apatite, be¬ 
 sides sphene, spinel, graphite, idocrase, and mica. 
 
 “Verde-antique marble, or Verde-Antico, is a clouded 
 green marble, consisting of a mixture of serpentine and 
 limestone, found at Genoa and Tuscany, and is much 
 valued for its beauty. A variety is called Polzinera di 
 Genoa, and Vert d’Egypte. 
 
 “ A marble of this kind is found also in America, at 
 [Milford, near New Haven, Connecticut, of fine quality; 
 also in Essex county. New York, at Moria, near Port 
 Henry, on Lake Champlain. 
 
 “ The Cipolin marbles of Italy are white, or nearlv so, 
 with shadings or zones of green talc. 
 
 “ The Bardiglio is a gray variety, found at Corsica, also 
 at Carrara. 
 
 “ Compact limestone usually breaks out into thick slabs, 
 and is a convenient and durable stone for building. It is 
 not possessed of much beauty in the rough state. When 
 polished it constitutes a variety of marbles, according to 
 colour. The shades are very numerous, from white, cream, 
 and yellow shades, through grey, dove-coloured, slate, blue, 
 or brown, to black. 
 
 “ The Nero-Antico marble is an ancient deep black 
 marble; the Paragone is a modern one, of a fine black 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 105 
 
 colour, from Bergamo; and Pano di Morte is another black 
 marble, with a few white fossil shells. 
 
 “ The Rosso-Antico is a deep blood-red, sprinkled with 
 minute white dots. 
 
 “ The Giallo-Antico, or yellow antique marble, is deep 
 yellow, with black or yellow rings. 
 
 “ A beautiful marble from Sienna, called Brocatello di 
 Siena, has a yellow colour, with large irregular spots, and 
 veins of bluish red or purplish. 
 
 “ The Mandelato of the Italians is a light red marble, 
 with yellowish white spots. It is found at Luggezana. 
 
 “ At Verona there is a red marble, inclining to yellow, 
 and another with large white spots in a reddish or greenish 
 paste. 
 
 “ The Bristol marble of England is a black marble, 
 containing a few white shells, and the Kilkenny is another 
 similar. There is also a black marble found in America, 
 at Slioreham, New York, and in other places in that State 
 near Lake Champlain. There are several quarries at Isle 
 la Motte. 
 
 “ The Porto is a Genoese marble, very highly esteemed. 
 It is deep black, with elegant veinings of yellow. The 
 most beautiful comes from Porto-Venese, and under 
 Louis XIV. a great deal of it was worked up for decora¬ 
 tions at Versailles. 
 
 “The Bird’s-eye marble of western New York is a com¬ 
 pact limestone, with crystalline points scattered through it. 
 
 “ Ruin marble is a yellowish marble, with brownish 
 shadings or lines arranged so as to represent castles, towers, 
 or cities in ruins. These markings proceed from infiltrated 
 iron. It is an indurated calcareous marl. 
 
 “ Oolitic marble has usually a grayish tint, and is 
 speckled with rounded dots looking like the roe of fish. 
 
 “ Shell marble contains scattered fossils, and is of dif¬ 
 ferent colours, as the Petworth and Bethersden marbles. 
 It is abundant in the United States. Crenoidean or En- 
 crinital marble differs only in the fossils being mostly 
 encrinites, resembling thin discs. Large quantities are 
 found in Onondago and Madison counties. New York, and 
 the polished slabs are much used. 
 
 “ Madreporic marble consists largely of corals, and the 
 surface consists of delicate stars. It is called by the Italians 
 Pietra Stellaria. It is also common in some of the States 
 of the Ohio. 
 
 “ Fire marble, or Lumachelle, is a dark brown shell 
 marble, having brilliant fire or chatoyant reflections from 
 within. 
 
 “ Breccian marbles and Pudding-stone marbles are the 
 polished calcareous breccia or pudding-stone. 
 
 “ Stalagmites and stalactites are frequently polished, 
 and the variety of shades is often highly beautiful. The 
 Gibraltar stone, so well known, is of this kind. It comes 
 from a cavern in the Gibraltar rock, and was deposited 
 from dripping water. It is made into inkstands, letter- 
 holders, and various small articles. 
 
 “ Wood is often petrified by carbonate of lime, and 
 occasionally whole trunks are changed into stone. The 
 specimens show well the grain of the wood, and some 
 are very handsome w hen polished.” 
 
 4 
 
 We have at the present moment an admirable oppor¬ 
 tunity of studying the great variety of marbles which are 
 produced in this and other countries in the Great Inter¬ 
 national Exhibition. Many specimens are well worth a 
 careful examination. 
 
 (To be continued.) 
 
 COLONIAL TIMBER FOR BUILDING AND 
 ORNAMENTAL PURPOSES. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 In a previous article we mentioned the various kinds of 
 timber imported from our colonies for the use of the 
 builder. There are other timbers grown in our colonies 
 well adapted for all building and constructive purposes; 
 but the great cost of felling the trees in their native 
 forests, of transit, and of freight from distant ports, has 
 hitherto excluded them from general use. We have still 
 some excellent native timber which is available for the 
 architect and builder, but, unfortunately, not in sufficient 
 quantity; and it is desirable that we should know where 
 timber of the same kind and quality can be procured in 
 case of need. Among the timbers upon which we once 
 prided ourselves, we may mention the chestnut-tree [Fagus 
 castanea ), a timber more durable even than the oak. This 
 tree is understood to be a native of Asia. Tradition says 
 that it was brought from Asia Minor by the Emperor 
 Tiberius, and that it soon spread over all the warmer parts 
 of Europe. The Castagno de centi cavatti —the chestnut of 
 the hundred horses, upon Mount Etna—is the largest tree 
 in Europe probably, if it still exists. This tree is described 
 as being more than two hundred feet in circumference, and 
 this measure does not mean the area its shadow would 
 cast under a vertical light. Brydone, a traveller, who 
 visited it about eighty years ago, allows its great age, but 
 was rather disappointed with its appearance. It looked to 
 him as not one tree, hut a bunch of five large trees grow¬ 
 ing together. The guides to whom he expressed his dis¬ 
 appointment assured him that all these were once united 
 in one stem; that their grandfathers once rememhered 
 this, when it was looked upon as the glory of the forest, 
 and that for many years past it had been reduced to the 
 venerable ruin the traveller then beheld. Brydone, at the 
 time he wrote, says : “ There is an appearance that these 
 five trees were really once united in one. The opening in 
 the middle is, at present, prodigious; and it does indeed 
 require faith to believe that so vast a space was once occu¬ 
 pied by solid timber. But there is no appearance of bark 
 on the inside of any of the stumps, nor on the sides that 
 are opposite to each other. Mr. Glover and I measured it 
 separately, and brought it exactly to the same size—viz., 
 two hundred and four feet round.” Great Britain cannot 
 compete with Sicily in chestnut-trees ; yet even here they 
 thrive well, and also in Ireland. As far north as Castle 
 Leod, in Ross-shire, there is a chestnut-tree which mea¬ 
 sures at least fifteen feet in circumference. In Kensington 
 Gardens, at the present day, may be seen chestnut-trees 
 
 p 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 106 
 
 which rise far above the surrounding elms and other 
 trees. These trees are, however, in a state of decay, 
 arising, perhaps, from the nature of the soil. Chest¬ 
 nut-trees of immense size and of great age are recorded 
 in English arboriculture, though none come near in age 
 and dimensions to that of the Etna tree of “ The hundred 
 horses.” One at Itchin Priory, in Hertfordshire, had, in 
 1789, a circumference of more than forty-two feet at five 
 feet from the ground; and though the internal part was 
 decayed and hollowed by time, the external part and the 
 leaves were vigorous. Grose found one of four chest¬ 
 nuts in Great Cranford Park, Dorset, thirty-seven feet in 
 circumference; and though shattered and decayed, it still 
 bore good crops of fruit. In Gloucestershire there was a 
 chestnut, in the hollow of which was “ a pretty wainscoted 
 room, enlightened with windows and furnished with seats;” 
 and the great chestnut at Tortworth, in the same county, 
 had dimensions and a reputed age belonging to no other 
 English tree. In the year 1150 it was styled the “great 
 old chestnut-tree.” In 1720 it measui’ed fifty-one feet at 
 six feet from the ground; but Lysons, by a later mea¬ 
 surement, 1791, made it only forty-five feet three inches. 
 It bore fruit abundantly in 1788 ; and tradition carries it 
 back to the days of the Saxon Egbert. The roof of 
 Westminster Hall, one of the largest of ancient construc¬ 
 tions anywhere to be met with, is built of chestnut, and 
 does not appear to be in the least decayed. The roofs of 
 many a manorial hall in England were formed of chestnut. 
 Oak may give way in the structure of a building, but 
 chestnut appears to have endurance without end, as it has 
 no sapwood, and is not liable to be attacked by the worm. 
 In old buildings it has frequently been mistaken for oak, 
 but the pores in the alburnum of the latter are generally 
 much larger, more numerous, and very distinguishable, 
 while those of the chestnut are irregular, and scarcely 
 distinguishable by the naked eye: there is also an ab¬ 
 sence of the transverse septa which distinguish the oak. 
 The cohesive force of the chestnut varies from 9670 to 
 12,000 lbs. per square inch when dry. When green, it 
 weighs 68 lbs. 9 ozs. per cubic foot; when dry, 41 lbs. 2 ozs. 
 The chestnut, of course, will not be confounded with the 
 horse-chestnut ( Msculus liippocastanum) —a soft wood, and 
 not applicable to any purposes where strength is required. 
 In the open air it has little durability. It has been used 
 for water-pipes, when it can constantly be covered with 
 earth. The wood, when newly cut, weighs 60 lbs. 4 ozs. 
 the cubic foot, and when dry, 87 lbs. 7 ozs. 
 
 The chestnut, as we have said, is a native of Asia, but is 
 found in North America, from New York to Carolina. 
 The chestnut of America ( Castanea vesca) weighs 25 lbs. 
 4 ozs. per cubic foot, with a specific gravity of '404. Por¬ 
 tuguese chestnut of the same kind is denser, weighing 
 40 lbs. 13 ozs. per cubic foot, with a specific gravity of 
 •653. This is considered a good wood when not too old. 
 Nevertheless, it is possible to import from New Zealand a 
 fagus of the specific gravity of‘531. Upper Canada pro¬ 
 duces the Fagus ferrugina, rather a beech than a chestnut, 
 but a wood of great density, and one which is much used 
 for the purposes of dry carpentry. 
 
 We are’ restricted to colonial woods; and there are co¬ 
 lonial woods which, if not fitted for building purposes, 
 have their value : for example, the black birch of America 
 has been imported into this country. It is compact and 
 rather handsome, but it soon decays. Birch makes very 
 good charcoal. The alder [Alnus glutinosa) is not so hand¬ 
 some a tree as the birch, and the timber is not applicable 
 to so many useful purposes. The alder is a native of 
 almost every part of Europe. Of this wood, however, we 
 have such short supplies from abroad, that it hardly de¬ 
 serves notice. We have many esteemed woods for building 
 and ornamental purposes, but it would be tedious to 
 mention them all. There is one wood, however, which 
 must be familiar to the children of the present generation, 
 though not so much so to those of the past—mahogany. 
 Walnut for the wardrobe, the bedstead, the buffet, in 
 former times was the choice wood. Mahogany came, and 
 put it out of fashion. It had colour in its favour, and 
 durability also; and the mahogany table at one time was 
 held in due veneration in the household, and youngsters 
 approached it as something sacred. To the present day 
 mahogany maintains its price, and for the purposes of the 
 cabinet-maker and wood-carver must always hold a first 
 place, being close in the grain and susceptible of great 
 polish. There are several varieties of the tree, some trees 
 being rather soft, others knotty, others brittle; but the 
 general characteristic of all mahogany is endurance and 
 closeness of grain. 
 
 There are three species of mahogany:—Common ma¬ 
 hogany ( Swietenia mahogani ), Swietenia febrifuga, and Swie- 
 tenia chloroxylon. The first is a native of the West India 
 Islands and the central parts of America, and the second 
 and third are natives of the East Indies. They all grow 
 to trees of considerable magnitude, the first and second 
 being among the largest trees known. They are all ex¬ 
 cellent timber. It was formerly abundant in the low 
 lands of Jamaica, but is only found there now on high 
 hills, and places difficult of access. It succeeds, Gwilt 
 informs us, on most soils, though it varies in quality 
 according to their natures. In rocky situations, though 
 it does not attain so great a size, it is harder, weightier, 
 of a closer grain, and more beautifully variegated than 
 in low rich lands, wherein it is produced more porous, 
 of paler colour, and of a more open grain. It grows 
 straight and lofty, and when full reaches a diameter of 
 five feet. The flowers are of a red or saffron colour, and 
 the fruit about the size of a turkey’s egg. Indeed, but for its 
 expense, it might supply, for beams and joists, the place of 
 pine. For window-frames mahogany is admirably adapted; 
 so also for door -posts and all uprights. The great expense 
 of the wood confines its use in building to doors, hand¬ 
 rails of stairs, &c. It has been used for ship-building 
 purposes. Indeed, Sir Walter Raleigh was the first to 
 apply it to this use in repairing his vessels in the West 
 Indies, but it was many years afterwards before mahogany 
 was known in England. Sir Walter Raleigh’s ships were 
 repaired at Trinidad, in 1597. The first logs were brought 
 to England about the beginning of the last century. A 
 few planks were sent to Dr. Gibbons, of London, by a 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 107 
 
 brother who was a West-India captain. Says the autho¬ 
 rity from which we have already made contribution, the 
 “ Library of Entertaining Knowledge,” the Doctor was 
 erecting a house in King-street, Covent-garden, and gave 
 the planks to the workmen, who rejected them as being 
 too hard. The Doctor’s cabinet-maker, named Wollaston, 
 was employed to make a candle-box of it, and as he was 
 sawing up the plank he also complained of the hardness 
 of the timber. But when the candle-box was finished, 
 it outshone in beauty all the Doctor’s other furni¬ 
 ture, and became an object of curiosity and exhibition. 
 The wood was then taken into favour. Dr. Gibbons had 
 had a bureau made of it, and the Duchess of Buckingham 
 another; and the despised mahogany now became a pro¬ 
 minent article of luxury, and at the same time raised the 
 fortunes of the cabinet-maker by whom it had at first 
 been so little regarded. The variety called Spanish maho¬ 
 gany, and imported from Cuba, Jamaica, Hispaniola, and 
 other West-India islands, comes in logs seldom more than 
 twenty-six inches square, and about ten or twelve feet in 
 length, and is harder and closer grained than that from 
 the Bay of Honduras, from which it may be distinguished, 
 before it is oiled, by being of a lighter colour, and 
 as if its pores were filled with chalky matter. The 
 Honduras mahogany has latterly been imported in logs 
 of very large dimensions : logs have been imported fifteen 
 eet long. The best timber grows on mountain-tops, 
 and so far away from the port of transit, that the expense 
 of carriage is the reason why the best mahogany does not 
 reach our manufacturers. The best sort is that which is 
 freest from grey specks, and of a fine golden colour. It 
 is held firmly with glue, perhaps better than any other 
 wood. A cubic foot of the best Jamaica mahogany weighs 
 about fifty-four pounds ; of Honduras, about thirty-eight 
 pounds. 
 
 To give an idea of the value of mahogany, it may be 
 stated that not many years ago Messrs. Broadwood, the 
 well-known pianoforte manufacturers, gave the immense 
 sum of 3000/. for three logs of mahogany. These logs, the 
 produce of a single tree, were each about 15 feet long and 
 38 inches square; they were cut into veneers of eight to 
 an inch. The wood was particularly beautiful, capable of 
 receiving tbe highest polish, and when polished, reflecting 
 the light in the most varied manner, like the surface of a 
 crystal, and from the wavy form of the pores offering a 
 different figure in whatever direction it was viewed. 
 
 Dealers in mahogany generally introduce an auger before 
 buying a log, but notwithstanding they are seldom able to 
 decide with much precision as to the quality of the wood, 
 so that there is a good deal of lottery in the trade. The 
 logs for which Messrs. Broadwood gave such a high price 
 were brought to this country with a full knowledge of their 
 superior worth. Honduras, Cuba, and Ilayti are the prin¬ 
 cipal sources of supply, the timber brought from the first 
 being the cheapest and by far the most abundant. 
 
 When mahogany was first introduced as a cabinet timber, 
 it seems to have been in the dark-coloured, hard, and 
 straight-grained trees, which are now used for chairs and 
 other articles in which the solid timber is prefeiTed, and 
 
 on that account it was not much used in combina¬ 
 tion with other woods. When, however, its great value 
 was known, the ease with which it can be cut, the im¬ 
 provement which varnish gives to its colours, the firmness 
 with which it holds in glue, and the improvement which, 
 when properly taken care of, it gains by age, it was found 
 that mahogany was much too valuable a timber for being 
 used solid; and it began to be employed as the staple 
 timber for veneering. Other foreign woods, some of them 
 lighter and others darker, were employed for borders and 
 ornaments; but mahogany was used for the body of the 
 work; and when it came to be so used, a great revolution 
 was effected in the art of cabinet-making. On the first 
 introduction of mahogany, the same process was resorted 
 to that had before been practised with the walnut and 
 other woods, and effect was sought to be produced by 
 quartering panels, forming them of gyrony — a term of 
 heraldry in which a shield is formed in sectors from the 
 centre—with the grain in opposite directions, and other 
 fantastic and unnatural arrangements; but in course of 
 time a better taste was introduced, and the object was to 
 have the whole surface of the same appearance as if the 
 work had been made solid out of the rich timber. This 
 was one step towards the attainment of a purer style, but 
 the continuity of the surface was still interrupted by ill- 
 assorted additions. The breadth of the mahogany, which 
 would in itself have been beautiful, was broken by bands 
 and strings of other wood, without much regard to the h ar- 
 mony of the colours; and thus that which with the veneer 
 alone would have been chaste and classical, was reduced to 
 a piece of patchwork. The veneei’ing, whether done in 
 mahogany or any other wood, was at first very expensive. 
 The veneers were cut by the hand, and thus the piece cut 
 off was of unequal thickness in the different parts; the wood 
 was mangled by the operation of cutting, and the finest 
 pieces, which, as has been said, are cross-grained or have 
 their fibres across their thickness, were always in danger of 
 being broken. It had been found that veneers laid upon 
 good bodies of timber, whether of the more coarse maho¬ 
 ganies or of any other kind, were better in point of beauty 
 and of .standing without warping than solid timber; but 
 veneer-cutting by hand was not only laborious, but wasteful 
 and expensive. When the harder and more unmanageable 
 species of fancy woods came to be used, tbe difficulty and 
 expense were further increased; and though more beauty 
 and variety were imparted to cabinet furniture, they were 
 imparted at a corresponding increase of price. It is to the 
 late Mr. Brunei that we were first indebted for the full 
 advantage of the beautiful art of veneering. His process 
 has been since greatly improved upon in France and Ger¬ 
 many, where logs of fancy timber are pared down, if 
 needful, as thin as a wafer. In treating of fancy woods, 
 a few words may be devoted to this invention, as many of 
 those from our colonies can only be used for cabinet-work. 
 Brunei’s machinery consisted of circular saws driven by 
 mechanical power, and they so diminished the price of 
 veneers, that the saving was immense. Independently of 
 their superior beauty over our native woods, the foreign 
 woods have the advantage of durability, both in their struc- 
 
 r 2 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 108 
 
 ture and in their colours. There are few of the indigenous 
 woods of Britain into which the worm does not eat, and 
 there are none of them in which the colours have not a 
 tendency to come to the same shade, when long used, unless 
 they are protected hy varnish; while, on the other hand, 
 the fancy woods from the tropical climates are generally, 
 if not universally, proof against the worm in England, and 
 they are not apt to lose their colours. Thus the introduc¬ 
 tion of machinery for the purpose of cutting veneers has 
 been a material saving both in the cost and the wear of 
 furniture, while it has enabled the workman to extend to 
 a surface of thousands of feet any fine piece of timber 
 he may meet with, and which before the invention of 
 that machinery he could not have extended to as many 
 hundreds. 
 
 The value to which a single log of fine timber is turned, 
 by means of the improved sawing machinery/is really in¬ 
 credible to those who have not witnessed the operation. 
 Thus, when the cabinet-maker has occasion for veneers, 
 he has only to purchase a log of the wood which suits his 
 purpose, send it to the saw-mill, and he has it cut up to 
 the thickness that he wishes in a very short time and at a 
 trifling expense. 
 
 Brunei’s saws were on the circular principle; they were 
 driven by steam. The teeth of the saw were rather large 
 than otherwise, in order that the saw might not he clogged 
 with sawdust, and thus tear the finest veneers; and it revolved 
 with considerable velocity. The log of timber which was 
 to be cut into veneers was fastened upon a frame, with the 
 piece in the direction in which it was to he cut, in a vertical 
 position. The frame which carried forward the log was 
 moved at a rate which might be varied according to the 
 quality of the timber to be cut. It had a rack on the 
 under side, into which pinions worked. For coarse work 
 the motion was rapid; for fine veneers, slower. The ave¬ 
 rage rate of cutting was one foot in four seconds. At the 
 mill of the Messrs. Watsons’, of Battersea, there was a 
 circular saw of eighteen feet diameter, which made thirty 
 revolutions in a minute, and which in eighty seconds 
 would cut a veneer four feet six inches long by thirty- 
 three inches wide. A smaller saw, at which inferior 
 timber was cut, had a quicker revolution, called a tumbling 
 motion, where a piece of mahogany was veneered into a 
 length of six feet six inches long by twelve inches wide in 
 twenty-five seconds. The modern veneer saw more re¬ 
 sembles a knife, which slices the log into veneers. The 
 veneer varies from a twenty-fourth to a thirtieth of an 
 inch in thickness, so that, if the saw-draft be one twenty- 
 fourth of an inch wide, half the timber is cut into saw¬ 
 dust. It is hence of great importance to have the saw 
 extremely thin. The body of the modern veneer saw 
 consists of a lenticular piece of cast iron, having the 
 meniscus form—that is, hollow on the one side, and round 
 on the other. Without the aid of diagrams it would not 
 be easy to describe its mode of action, and yet the ma¬ 
 chinery is extremely simple. The saws are made from five 
 to twenty feet in diameter, according to the breadth of the 
 logs they have to cut; and from twelve to eighteen slices 
 are made in each inch of thickness. 
 
 Veneering in fancy woods has been compared to gilding 
 and plating, but the process does not gain by the com¬ 
 parison, as the covering of one wood with another is a 
 much nearer approach to solidity than the covering one 
 metal with another. When the cabinet article is kept in 
 such a state as that the glue is not dissolved, the covering 
 of beautiful wood does not wear out; and thus, with a 
 vast saving in the most costly material, there is the same 
 durability, as if nothing but that material had been used 
 for the whole. There is another advantage in the use of 
 fancy woods on the surface; the body of the article upon 
 which the fancy wood is laid can be much better put to¬ 
 gether than if it had formed the external part of the 
 article. Where that is the case, dovetails or mortices 
 cannot be wedged without an external seam; but in 
 veneering, the body of the article can be put together 
 with every degree of care and strength, and the veneer 
 will hide the whole. We shall have occasion to mention 
 various kinds of colonial woods adapted for veneers and 
 cabinet articles. In the International Exhibition there 
 are at present woods representing the forests of almost all 
 of our colonies and dependencies, the bare enumeration of 
 which, and the uses to which they may be put, would 
 more than fill our columns. 
 
 Our fathers were contented with very humble furniture, 
 well-made, it is true, but not often elegant. A taste for 
 comfort and elegance universally diffused throughout 
 society, not only calls into action a great deal of me¬ 
 chanical ingenuity, and employs considerable capital; but 
 it gives even to the humblest a sort of self respect, inferior, 
 indeed, to purer motives, but still tending to produce 
 something of independence, and a desire to maintain the 
 possession of those comforts and trifling distinctions by 
 honest industry. The general adoption of articles of 
 luxury, such as well-made furniture, by the bulk of the 
 people, has a natural tendency to make the wealthy de¬ 
 sirous of procuring articles not so accessible to the many; 
 and in this way there is a constant demand, not only for 
 new patterns in furniture, but of new materials to con¬ 
 struct such furniture. Our commerce with all the known 
 world has enabled the dealers in wood constantly to intro¬ 
 duce new sorts; and our own colonies are capable of sup¬ 
 plying us with varieties not only beautiful in colour and 
 durable in fibre, but which mechanical skill and con¬ 
 trivance are capable of shaping into a variety of objects 
 useful in themselves, pleasing to the eye, and calculated to 
 find vast employment to the artisan and the designer. 
 
 The Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries of Copenhagen have 
 just issued a volume of their Memoires —that series of their Trans¬ 
 actions which, written in French or English, is so much more accessible 
 to non-Danish readers than their Annaler. The new volume embraces 
 the years from 1850 to 1861, and contains two articles written in 
 English, of special interest to us; the first, an article on Scottish and 
 Irish local names occurring in the Icelandic Sagas, by Professor 
 Munch, of Christiania; and Remarks by Grirnur Thomsen, on 
 Dasent’s “ Northmen in Iceland”—both translated into English by 
 George Stephens. The volume contains also the Treatise of the 
 Ancient Giant-houses, or Druid-altars (Cromlechs), by the King of 
 Denmark. 
 
 Geeek Remains in Feance. —A discovery is said to have just been 
 made at Marseilles, of the ruins of a Greek circus. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 109 
 
 OUR SOLDIERS’ HOMES. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 Willingly, yet sorrowfully, do we return to a question in 
 which is involved the comfort and health of a large class 
 of British subjects. Last month we showed that our army 
 at home has been subject to a frightful mortality of 17*5 
 per 1000 per annum, against 9 - 2 deaths per 1000 among 
 the civil population. We stated facts which proved that, 
 until very lately, we have had barrack accommodation for 
 two-thirds only of our army on home service, and also 
 showed that the fact of the remaining third part being 
 distributed in barracks, already unhealthy (owing to being 
 badly planned, unventilated, undrained, and not being 
 supplied with pure water), was the turning point which 
 predisposed the army to disease, tilled the hospitals with 
 sick, and raised the rate of mortality among soldiers to 
 double that of males in civil life. Around town and many 
 country barracks nuisances abound, the buildings are as 
 badly arranged as they can be, they are densely crowded, 
 non-commissioned officers and married men have generally 
 no separate accommodation—in one case seven rooms con¬ 
 tain 21 men, 21 women, and 33 children; there is little 
 or no ventilation, while pure water and drainage would 
 appear to have been considered as of no importance what¬ 
 ever ; all this, and a good deal more, we pointed out in a 
 former article, but there are yet many matters to which we 
 must refer, in order to let the public know precisely 
 how from seventy to eighty thousand men have been 
 lodged. 
 
 But before considering some of these, we must revert 
 for a moment to the plans of cavalry barracks in which 
 the men’s rooms are usually built over the stables, while 
 in order to get as large a barrack-yard as possible the 
 buildings are placed close to the boundary walls, or, as is 
 the case at Regent’s Park Barracks, in Albany-street, the 
 buildings themselves form the boundary wall, and in con¬ 
 sequence there can be no windows on the external side; 
 boundary walls are, however, most common, and the space 
 between them and the barrack buildings is usually appro¬ 
 priated for dung-pits, latrines, cook houses, ablution 
 rooms, cleaning sheds, &c.; and when the paving is bad, 
 this lane resembles nothing so much as one of the 
 “ filthiest and most neglected alleys in the filthiest parts 
 of our towns.” Horses are not so over-crowded as are the 
 men, and the depth of the stable, from front to back, is 
 considered to be more than is required by the men, so that 
 over long ranges of stables there is, as in Hounslow 
 Barracks, a narrow corridor running from end to end 
 down the centre, while from it, on each side, open the 
 men’s rooms, of course lighted from one side only, and in 
 the case of one range of room at least, the windows 
 open on to the narrow lane of filth such as we have de¬ 
 scribed above. To a person unused to them, and entering 
 such rooms from the fresh air, the smell is unbearable. 
 
 The appropriation of casemates as part of regular 
 barrack accommodation is another iniquitous arrange¬ 
 ment. They are intended for occupation during a siege, 
 and usually consist of a series of arches behind the cur¬ 
 
 tains or in the flanks; some are lofty, others are low, dark, 
 and without means of renewing the air. The best, those 
 at Dover Citadel, are thirteen feet high; the worst are, 
 perhaps, those at Dover Castle, cut out of the chalk cliff, 
 varying from 100 to 227 feet in length, and lighted at one 
 end only; at Chatham, St. Mary’s casemates are in two 
 flats, they are long, narrow, dark, damp, over-crowded, and 
 unhealthy cellars occupied by troops and by invalids re¬ 
 turning from foreign service. Returns supplied in 1857 
 show that out of an average monthly strength of 749 there 
 were for 22 months 6393 admissions to hospitals, and 
 142 deaths; the admissions to hospital per annum were 
 four and a half times the strength, and the deaths were in 
 the ratio of 103 per 1000 per annum, and of these 40 per 
 cent, arose from consumption. 
 
 Of drainage we have before spoken as being defective, 
 or altogether wanting, consequently we could not expect 
 to find water-closets about barracks. The contrivance in use 
 —and very primitive it is—consists of a long, deep trough, 
 opening into a cesspit beneath a kind of ladder, and some¬ 
 times a single rail, extending from end to end over the 
 trough, serves for seat; these cesspits are emptied at 
 certain times, dependent on their capacity. For night use 
 there is in each barrack-room a tub, regarding which, by- 
 tlie-bye, a barrack regulation lately directed that it was 
 to be of sufficient capacity to mix the limewash in with 
 which the walls are whited ! 
 
 Ablution accommodation in barracks is quite a modern 
 innovation, for not many years ago the men had to betake 
 themselves to the nearest pump. Most barracks have, 
 however, since been provided with ablution-rooms, and 
 they generally consist of sheds detached from the building 
 in which the men’s rooms are situated, and contain long 
 narrow tables of wood or slate, with a number of metal 
 basins. The commissioners came to the conclusion that 
 there has been more improvement of late years in ablution 
 accommodation than in any part of barrack construction ; 
 but the system has still serious defects. And the first of 
 these is the distance of the lavatory from the men’s rooms : 
 the men have to wash partly dressed, and in that state 
 must leave the close barrack-room and go through the 
 open air to the washing-slied ; here they probably have 
 to wait their turn, and it may be in wet weather, for 
 generally the number of basins and space provided is in¬ 
 sufficient for the number of men. Few barracks at the 
 time of inspection possessed means of bathing, but in 
 some cases this necessity was found to be provided for by the 
 limited means afforded by an iron barrack coal-box, or an 
 old horse-trough. With regard to the washing of the 
 soldiers’ linen, this duty is generally performed by soldiers’ 
 wives; the wash-houses are usually very much too sman, 
 they are badly ventilated and lighted, and in many cases 
 w ater has to be conveyed from a considerable distance, and 
 when done with is thrown on the floor to escape down 
 gratings. In most cases there is no means of drying the 
 linen in wet weather, consequently it is secreted, and, 
 against orders, taken to dry before the barrack-room fires ; 
 and at all times, the men are exposed to the danger of put¬ 
 ting on damp linen. These, however, and most matters that 
 
no 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 do not demand reconstruction of tlie barracks are being 
 improved, and AVcllington Barracks bas now a wasb-house 
 and laundry capable of washing and drying the bedding 
 required for 5000 men. 
 
 For a long time cook-houses were generally detached 
 from the barrack building, sometimes near to them and 
 sometimes far off. We have seen men leave their rooms, 
 go across a wide parade-ground, wait their turn in the open 
 air at the cook-house door, receive each his plate of 
 victuals, and then either squat down on the ground and 
 eat it in the open air, or retrace his steps across the 
 parade ground, plate in hand, and uncovered, and up 
 the stairs to the barrack-room, when the dinner must 
 have been cold, and perhaps drenched with rain. After 
 partaking of it, the same distance has to be traversed to 
 return the plate. Until very lately, boiling was the only 
 available means of cooking; and at the request of the 
 Royal Commissioners, Messrs. Warrener and Guerrier, 
 two experienced cooks, were appointed to examine and 
 inquire into the whole subject of cooking in barracks; and 
 for the purpose of comparison they extended the inquiry 
 to a number of leading civil establishments in London, 
 such as workhouses, prisons, schools, hospitals, &c. 
 Messrs. Warrener and Guerrier prepared a valuable re¬ 
 port, from which it appeared that the apparatus employed 
 consumed a large amount of fuel, and that besides this de¬ 
 fect, there was a want of sufficient knowledge of cooking- 
 on the part of barrack cooks. In some cases they were 
 changed weekly, so that just as they began to “ know the 
 fire” they had to leave it. 
 
 Guard-rooms, lock-up rooms, and provost-cells all cor¬ 
 respond, as regards overcrowding and no ventilation, with 
 the barracks to which they are attached; and in some 
 cases they are even worse. In nine guard-rooms at Chat¬ 
 ham and Brompton, the cubic space per man varies from 
 142 feet to 282 feet! and this is for the accommodation of 
 men who while on duty as sentries are exposed to all 
 weathers, and if it rains have to lie down in their wet 
 clothing. Nine lock-up rooms at Chatham vary from 132 
 to 287, and in one case 360 cubic feet of space each 
 for the regulation number of inmates. Canteens, of which 
 one is attached to almost every barrack, are generally 
 leased to persons who pay to Government a fixed rent for 
 the house, and, in addition, a sum called “ head money,” 
 regulated by the number of men in barracks. This sum 
 varies considerably; in some places, being as much as one 
 guinea per month for every ten men in barracks; but 
 whatever the amount, it is drawn from the pocket of the 
 soldier. The sale of spirits is not, or has only lately been, 
 permitted in canteens. The proprietor is not allowed to 
 deal with civilians without the barrack walls, and the sol¬ 
 diers may go to his shop or not as they please. The can¬ 
 teen nearly always resembles, more or less, a public-house. 
 Some are low, dark, and dirty, while others, and particu¬ 
 larly some built by private individuals, are more preten¬ 
 tious, and are really light and cheerful. The entire 
 question of canteens is one that we cannot here discuss; 
 and besides, its consideration may, and we trust will some 
 day, be rendered unnecessary, by a movement in favour 
 
 of the erection of soldiers’ clubs, such as that lately opened 
 at Chatham, at a cost of nearly 6000/., for the use of the 
 troops of the garrison, and which contains lecture, read¬ 
 ing, concert, and smoking rooms, together with a library 
 and refreshment room, the subscription being one penny 
 per week. The advantages of an establishment of this 
 kind, to which soldiers may resort and find equal or greater 
 comfort than they do at the surrounding public-houses or 
 in the ordinary canteen, are obvious, and regulations 
 should be framed for every barrack to have in connexion 
 with it a soldiers’ club. 
 
 We have now reverted, more or less in detail as the 
 importance of the subject immediately under considera¬ 
 tion may have appeared to demand, to the more prominent 
 defects of our soldiers’ homes as they existed at the time 
 of the general inspection by the Royal Commission, under 
 whose direction considerable improvements have since 
 been carried out in minor details; but as regards the 
 deficient accommodation and consequent overcrowding, 
 errors in plan, and unhealthy sites, these, as beyond the 
 powers with which the Commission was invested, remain 
 pretty much as we have described them, and an enormous 
 outlay will be necessary to provide barracks at all suitable 
 for the purposes to which they are devoted; for to expend 
 money in the enlargement or alteration of existing build¬ 
 ings, will be but to perpetuate many of the errors to 
 which we have directed attention. The existing build¬ 
 ings, or at any rate the larger number of them, are too 
 bad to admit of being made healthy dwellings; and sooner 
 or later, new barracks on better principles must be erected 
 throughout the kingdom, and the sooner the better for 
 the health and efficiency of our army. 
 
 It remains now to show how we may build healthy 
 barracks. A few have been erected lately better in some 
 respects than those we have described, but we are not 
 aware that any barrack yet constructed has been de¬ 
 signed without disregard of some of the most important 
 points. But let us first briefly recapitulate some of the 
 vital errors in old barracks. We have seen that the mor¬ 
 tality in the British army at home is very excessive. This 
 mortality,we have said, arises from impure air and impure 
 water, and the careful reader will have seen that nearly 
 all the evils of barrack construction lead to these, and 
 indeed render a wholesome condition of water and air 
 impossible. Soldiers sleep, said the Commissioners, in 
 rooms where there is no systematic recognition of the 
 relations of cubic space to ventilation, warming, and 
 health. Hence great diversity of practice in the amount 
 per man allotted in different barracks, in nearly all bar¬ 
 rack-rooms the cubic space allowed being too small for 
 health ; and in many rooms the over-crowding is excessive, 
 while additional overcrowding arises from placing more 
 than even the regulation number in barracks. The sites 
 of many barracks are exposed, to marsh malaria, or are 
 enclosed among the dwellings of the civil population, 
 while the defects of planning appear to be piling too many 
 floors of buildings one over the othci’, and the consequent 
 agglomerating too large a number of men under one roof; 
 constructing rooms back to back, or covering one side 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 of the building with corridors, so that windows on two 
 sides are impossible, the use of internal corridors, dark 
 and without ventilation, serving as channels for the pas¬ 
 sage of foul air between the various rooms opening into 
 them; deficiency of accommodation for non-commissioned 
 officers, leading to the obstruction of the light and air by 
 “ bunks;” boxing off staircases from rooms, with the same 
 result; barrack-rooms iu dark and damp basements; low 
 ceilings, rooms over stables, and the appropriation of old 
 buildings to barrack purposes to which they are not 
 adapted. In the general or block-plan the buildings are 
 constructed round enclosed courts, or with deep closed 
 angles, leading to total or partial stagnation of the air 
 and deprivation of sunlight, or in other cases they are too 
 close to the boundary walls. Ventilation has been alto¬ 
 gether neglected; warming has been effected insufficiently 
 and with great waste of fuel; drinking water has been 
 contaminated with sewage matter, in consequence of drain¬ 
 age being neglected; dung-pits have been allowed to accu¬ 
 mulate under barrack-room windows; the cooking has 
 been of one kind only. Bathing was for long unknown, 
 and married soldiers with their wives and children sleep 
 in the men’s rooms. 
 
 No one can have the assurance to contend that these 
 things should continue, but it is by no means very clear 
 how any material improvement is to be effected; the old 
 buildings, we repeat, do not admit of much improvement, 
 and to build from two hundred to three hundred new 
 barracks is a proposal not very likely to be seriously enter¬ 
 tained for some time, however urgent the case may be; 
 but the Commissioners have recommended that some of the 
 worst barracks should be struck off the list. Among them, 
 Fort Elizabeth at Cork, Linen Hall Barrack, Castle and 
 Shamble Barracks, Galway, Portman Barrack, Knights- 
 bridge Cavalxy Barrack, Coventry and Clarence Barrack, 
 Portsmouth, and some others ; and, therefore, some new 
 barracks must be erected, and it cannot be without a good 
 result to make known, as widely as possible, how the de¬ 
 fects of our present buildings are to be avoided. One 
 thing, however, is very evident, that no matter how well 
 known better principles of barrack construction may be, 
 barracks will never be erected on those principles, and 
 with sufficient regard to local circumstances, until there is 
 a proper official recognition of the desirability of securing 
 the services of an architect in their erection. The Com¬ 
 missioners, we believe, did recognise the principle, but 
 their recommendation does not appear to have met with 
 any great favour. 
 
 There is some disadvantages attending the selection of 
 a site for a barrack, since its position must be determined 
 primarily by military reasons; but it should always be 
 kept in mind that a healthy country site is preferable to a 
 town site; the climate should be not unhealthy, and the 
 vicinity of marshes, stagnant water, and sites generally 
 where malaria exists, should be avoided; a porous subsoil 
 in preference to one of clay, or other retentive soil, should 
 be selected ; there should be a sufficient natural fall of 
 ground to ensure drainage, and there should in all cases 
 be an abundant supply of pure water in the immediate 
 
 neighbourhood; beyond these an area sufficiently large 
 should be obtained in the first instance. The site being 
 selected, the first matter that requires attention is drainage 
 of the whole area within the barrack enclosure, to cany 
 off the surface drainage, the depth of the drains, their dis¬ 
 tance apart and size must depend on the fall and the 
 nature of the subsoil. There is no difficulty in draining 
 perfectly an area of large extent, if only the work be done 
 before the buildings are erected; if the buildings are to 
 be situated on a slope that rises higher than the site, it 
 will he necessary to cut a drain right across the ground of 
 such depth as may be required to catch the water as it 
 comes down from the higher ground; this “ catch-water” 
 drain may be deep or shallow, according to the nature of 
 the soil; on stiff clay a drain near the surface will be 
 sufficient, on a more porous soil it may be necessary to go 
 much deeper to catch the water which has escaped down¬ 
 wards. With a well-planned system of tile drainage there 
 can be no difficulty in keeping the entire surface of the 
 ground solid and dry; the surface should fall from the walls 
 of the building for a distance of eight or ten feet, where 
 there should be a surface gutter. It has been recommended 
 to pave the ground next the walls with stone flags, but 
 good drainage is much preferable; for if there is any damp 
 in the ground next the walls, paving serves only to prevent 
 its evaporation. All the external Avails below the ground 
 should have a thoroughly ventilated, dry area in front of 
 them, rising to a height of at least twelve inches above the 
 ground level, Avhich will afford space for air-gratings; and 
 there should be a sufficient number of openings from the 
 dry-areas to the space beloAv the basement floor line, so as 
 to allow of a constant circulation of air around the Avails 
 underground and under the basement floors. The dry-area 
 itself will require a paved bottom, Avith a fall to drains, to 
 carry off a considerable amount of moisture that arises 
 from condensation or otherwise. In addition to these pre¬ 
 cautions for the prevention of damp in the buildings, 
 the whole of the basement should either he covered Avith 
 a layer of concrete, or it should be thoroughly drained; 
 both concrete and drainage should be employed on porous 
 soils, but Avherever one system only is to be used, drainage 
 should be preferred. Besides this, there should be just 
 beloAv the level of the lower floor, bedded in, and of the 
 full width of the wall (if an inch Avider on each side so 
 much the better), two or three courses of slate set in 
 hydraulic cement, or a course of glazed tiles, or a layer of 
 asphalte or lead, and another course of materials impervious 
 to damp should be laid in the walls just above the ground 
 level. If this be done properly, there is very little fear of 
 damp rising in any building, even if it be built on marsh 
 land. In three-fourths of London suburban houses on 
 clayey soil builders profess to build dry-areas, and adopt 
 other means of “keeping doAvn damp;” but the houses Avhen 
 finished are damp, and the walls reek Avith moisture, be¬ 
 cause the dry-area is so constructed as to be simply a 
 reservoir for Avater from the surface of the ground, whence, 
 equally in Avet or dry weather, it is always soaking into 
 the walls. 
 
 In some cases, cost of site Avould be an objection to such 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 112 
 
 an arrangement; but there is no doubt that a building con¬ 
 sisting of a ground story and one story over, may be kept 
 in a much more healthy state than one consisting of a 
 basement and several stories over; at any rate, where it 
 is intended for the accommodation of a large number of 
 inmates. No arrangement could be more healthy than one 
 consisting of a single line of buildings pointing north and 
 south, so that in the course of the day the sun will shine 
 on both sides; when the number of men to be accommo¬ 
 dated would extend the line to an inconvenient length, it 
 might be divided into two blocks opposite each other, with 
 the parade-ground between them; and in a still larger 
 barracks, two other blocks may be added to the ends to 
 form a square; but on no account should the buildings 
 touch at the angles, they should be left at a sufficient 
 distance apart to ensure a constant circulation of air; it 
 is the neglect of this principle in so large a number of 
 barracks that made then so unhealthy as dwellings. 
 
 Stables, kitchens, latrines, or cleaning sheds should not 
 be placed under the same roof as are the men’s rooms; 
 they should be in detached buildings, accessible under co¬ 
 vered ways, and if sufficient space be left between the main 
 buildings and the boundary walls, it will, if tjie walls be not 
 too high, be perhaps the best position for them. The ar¬ 
 rangement for barrack-rooms suggested by the Commis¬ 
 sioners is a very good one; each range of barrack-rooms 
 should consist of separate houses, with a party-wall between 
 them, carried up through the roof; each house should be 
 divided up the middle by a wide, roomy staircase, extending 
 from the ground to the top, with a free ventilation through 
 the roof; it should extend with the landings from the front to 
 the back of the house, with windows on opposite sides; there 
 should be two barrack-rooms on each floor, one opening 
 out of the staircase on the right hand, the other out of 
 the left hand side of the staircases, each room occupying 
 the entire width between the two side walls; should have 
 windows on opposite sides carried up to within a few 
 inches of the ceiling, and arranged so that both upper 
 and lower sashes will open; there should be no more than 
 two rows of beds, with their heads to the side walls, 
 leaving a passage down the centre of the room, which 
 should be 12 feet in height, 20 feet wide, with an allow¬ 
 ance of 5 feet for every bed in the length of the room. 
 This will give 600 cubic feet of space for each bed attached 
 to each barrack-room. But effectually separated from it as 
 regards ventilation ; there must be a sergeant’s room and 
 a night-closet. The new cavalry barracks at York, and 
 the new Chelsea barracks have been constructed on these 
 principles. In the former case, the new building is intended 
 for 100 non-commissioned officers and men, and is two 
 stories high with a central staircase, a sergeant’s room 
 right and left on each flat, and beyond each sergeant’s 
 room a barrack-room 60 feet long, by 20 feet wide, for 24 
 men; each room has a ventilating shaft at each end, in¬ 
 lets for fresh air between the windows, and a ventilating 
 fire-grate; at the end of each room, opposite the door, is 
 placed an ablution-room with fixed basins, and a night- 
 closet. This building forms a separate block, but in New 
 Chelsea Barracks a large establishment isbeing constructed 
 
 in separate houses in a single line, and the most convenient 
 situation for the lavatory for such a construction is next 
 the staircase. 
 
 Imperfectly as, unassisted by diagrams, we may have 
 been able to convey to the non-professional reader an idea 
 of the principles laid down, we have very little, if any, 
 doubt that they contain the germ of healthy barrack con¬ 
 struction, there are yet many points to be considered with 
 reference to water supply, drainage, ventilation, &c.; these 
 we must defer to a future occasion, but we are anxious 
 to do justice to the efforts of the Commission, to 
 whom we are largely indebted, not only for the data 
 they have brought together, but for the endeavours they 
 have made to effect an improvement in the condition of 
 those buildings. It appears from an abstract in their 
 general report, that the following sanitary improvements 
 have been carried out under the direction of the Com¬ 
 
 mission :— 
 
 No. of barracks 
 in which each 
 
 Nature of improvements. improvement has 
 
 been carried out. 
 
 Ventilation by shafts and inlets.74 
 
 Improved fire-grates, for ventilating and warming . . 28 
 
 Drainage, including abolition of cesspools .... 15 
 
 Improvements in latrines and waterclosets .... 45 
 
 Improved urinals.19 
 
 Improved water supply.17 
 
 Increased window space and improvements in sashes . 8 
 
 Baths.54 
 
 Improvements in ablution rooms.43 
 
 Improved means for washing and drying linen ... 26 
 
 Improvements in cooking apparatus.75 
 
 Other improvements in kitchens.45 
 
 Improvements in manure-heaps and ash-pits ... 26 
 
 Ventilation of stables under barrack-rooms .... 13 
 
 Gas introduced.9 
 
 In additiou to these, it is stated that other improve¬ 
 
 ments—such as drill sheds, stores, &c., not shown in the 
 abstract, have also been carried out on one or two stations. 
 The general result of these improvements—we quote again 
 the General Report—is to purify the air in and around 
 barrack-rooms and hospital wards, to afford more variety 
 in cooking food, additional means of cleanliness and 
 bathing, diminished liability to disease, and protracted 
 convalescence, and greater facilities for pnedical treatment 
 of the sick. It is true, that the improvements as yet 
 carried out constitute only a fractional part of those re¬ 
 quired to make the barracks and hospitals of the United 
 Kingdom all that they ought to be as great public estab¬ 
 lishments ; but a beginning has been made in 'applying 
 practically to these establishments those sanitary works 
 and measures which experience has shown to be very much 
 required to preserve health and life in barracks and hos¬ 
 pitals, no less than in all buildings where numbers of men 
 are necessarily congregated together on a small area and 
 within a confined space. It would be difficult as yet to 
 determine the effect of these improved sanitary conditions 
 in diminishing sickness and mortality, but we have not a 
 doubt that when all barracks afford a proper extent of 
 space for their inmates, and when the various sanitary im¬ 
 provements described are in full operation, their influence 
 will be to effect a marked improvement in the health and 
 efficiency of the army. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 113 
 
 ON THE RECENTLY ERECTED BRIDGES OF 
 NORTH WESTERN EUROPE. 
 
 BY G. R. S. BURNELL, ESQ. 
 
 It is very unfortunate for the interests of art that the 
 construction of bridges, the class of public monuments 
 which attract attention perhaps more than any others, 
 should of late years have been entirely withdrawn from the 
 direction of the men who specially occupy themselves with 
 the study of the combination of art forms with the appli¬ 
 cation of the science of building. Until a very recent 
 period, indeed, there existed no distinction between the 
 professions of architecture and of engineering, although 
 possibly during the Roman period the men who erected 
 the roads and bridges, the aqueducts and the ports, may 
 have received a different education from the one given to 
 those who erected the temples and palaces. During the 
 middle ages, however, it is tolerably certain that there was 
 no such distinction, and that the same master builders 
 undertook the construction of buildings of every descrip¬ 
 tion. Even so recently as in the time of Louis XIV., Man¬ 
 sard built the Pont Royal of Paris ; Perronet called himself 
 “ Architecte du RoiTelford even built a church, and at 
 first mingled the pursuits of engineer and architect. In 
 the middle of the last century, the organization of the 
 French Engineers into the Corps Royal des Ponts et 
 Chaussees, and the gradual development of the means of 
 intercommunication in the other countries of Europe, seem 
 to have rendered it desirable to establish a distinction be¬ 
 tween the pursuits of the architect, who only had to deal 
 with statics, and those of the engineer, who had princi¬ 
 pally to deal with forces in motion, or with dynamics; 
 and as the description of works in which the latter class 
 of investigations had the greatest importance, was also 
 involved in the construction of bridges, viaducts, &c., it 
 naturally followed that they fell within the attributions of 
 the members of the new subdivision of the architectural 
 profession. 
 
 It so happened that the establishment of this classifica¬ 
 tion corresponded nearly in the order of time with the 
 discovery of the improvements in metallurgical science, 
 and in the steam engine, which have enabled modern con¬ 
 structors to use iron as a building material in a manner 
 hitherto unknown ; so that, in fact, the introduction of 
 this material corresponded with the abandonment of the 
 studyVif'sestlietics by bridge builders. The traditions of 
 oTher times still lingered amongst the earlier civil engi¬ 
 neers ; and therefore we find that, in the works of Gauthey, 
 De Cessart, De Prony, in France, and in those of Smeaton, 
 Rennie, Nimmo, in England, attention w r as still paid to 
 beauty of outline, even whilst their authors were striving 
 to secure economy of materials, and logical forms of con¬ 
 struction. In proportion as civil engineering assumed a 
 greater importance as a social science, so, likewise, did it 
 become a matter of necessity to secure in its works the 
 greatest results at the least possible cost; and the abstract 
 nature of the studies thus forced upon the attention of the 
 engineer seems to have led them to treat with neglect 
 everything connected with the decorative part of their 
 4 
 
 profession. This, at least, is certain, that engineering 
 works have of late years followed a rapidly descending 
 scale in the path of artistic design, until at last our modern 
 bridges have attained a simplicity of ugliness so intense as 
 to defy criticism. Surely this need not be ! It does not 
 occur so markedly in France as it does in England; be¬ 
 cause the Fi’ench engineers in the course of their studies 
 are compelled to follow the lessons of a professor of archi¬ 
 tecture, who maintains amongst them, to a greater or 
 lesser extent, the love of art; and the modern French 
 bridges often display a fine feeling for proportion, har¬ 
 mony, and grace of outline, combined with an air of 
 solidity and massiveness appropriate to such works. The 
 root of the evil, so far as we are concerned, lies, it is to be 
 suspected, in the indifference our English public displays 
 in its appreciation of works of art, and in the general 
 ignorance of the art critics of the day of the principles of 
 design which ought to be observed in the peculiar class of 
 monuments referred to. The following remarks, there¬ 
 fore, will contain—1, a sketch of the recent history of 
 engineering; 2, a short notice of some of the more im¬ 
 portant works lately executed in the form of bridges, 
 aqueducts, and viaducts ; and, 3, an investigation of their 
 merits and defects from an artistic point of view only, our 
 object being, in fact, to collect the materials for a prac¬ 
 tical Essay on the Architecture of Bridge Building, as it 
 has recently been practised. 
 
 About the middle of the last century, the style of archi¬ 
 tecture adopted by bridge builders was based principally 
 upon the practice of the great Mediaeval Italian architects, 
 and the designs of Michael Angelo, Palladio, Amminati, 
 &c., were studied by such men as Mylne, Smeaton, and 
 the unknown authoi's of such bridges as those of Gains¬ 
 borough and Wisbeach. There was about them all rather 
 an ambitious attempt at the introduction of ornamental 
 architectural detail, and a species of horror on the part of 
 their designers of large plain surfaces, for whenever such 
 surfaces occurred, they were cut up into panels, rusticated, 
 or made to carry shields, wreaths, or other decorations, in 
 no wise connected with the construction of the design. 
 Smeaton had the good taste to avoid the introduction of 
 columns in front of his piers, in the manner practised by 
 Mylne; and he usually avoided the errors (artistically 
 speaking) of making his arches of equal span from end to 
 end of the bridge, and of keeping his line of main cornice 
 perfectly horizontal. The arches of Smcatoids bridges are 
 nearly all portions of circles, and it was in those days a 
 be Id proposal for an English engineer to suggest, as Mylne 
 did for the Blackfriars Bridge, the use of the semi-elliptical 
 arch. In France, however, the engineers resorted to the 
 elliptical arch without fear or hesitation, and the mar¬ 
 vellous works of Hupeau, de Regemorte, Gabriel, Bayeux, 
 de Yoglie, Perronet, &c., served as illustrations of the 
 advantages of that form, and as models of the mode of its 
 application. In the commencement of their practice both 
 Telford and that far greater man, John Rennie, seem to 
 have hesitated in using the elliptical arch, and such “ rule 
 of thumb” men, as, for instance, the grossly over-estimated 
 Brindley, were not able to appreciate either its beauty or 
 
 Q 
 
114 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 its use—perhaps because they were unable to calculate its 
 conditions of stability. Dance and Ralph Dodd, in their 
 various projects, followed timidly the traces of Perronet, 
 but it was not until John Rennie attained his merited dis¬ 
 tinction that the English bridge-building began to imitate 
 the boldness aud the elegance of design observable amongst 
 the analogous productions of our neighbours. To what¬ 
 ever circumstance it may be owing, it must at any rate 
 be admitted that the construction of the bridges of Orleans, 
 Melun, Nantes, Neuilly, Tours, Samur, &c., preceded the 
 construction of the Waterloo, London, Staines, Limerick, 
 Gloucester, &c., bridges, by more than half a century, and 
 that our engineers were for a long period inferior to those 
 of France in the boldness and the skill of their designs. 
 As for the artistic merits of the English bridges of the 
 latter end of the eighteenth century, there is little to be 
 said. Smeaton’s outlines had an air of severe beauty, 
 which at times almost rose to sublimity. Brindley, Chap¬ 
 man, and Jessop never rose to mediocrity as artists ; Tel¬ 
 ford’s early bridges were very funny affairs; and even 
 Rennie, in the commencement of his career, Avas but 
 slightly superior to his contemporaries in the attainment 
 of beauty of form. In all walks of art, in fact, the latter 
 end of the eighteenth century was a dreary waste in our 
 national history; it may not, then, be a matter of sui'prise 
 that bridge-building should have followed the same for¬ 
 tunes as the other branches of art in England at this in¬ 
 auspicious period. 
 
 It was in the year 1777 that Abraham Derby erected 
 the first cast-iron bridge at Coalbroolc Dale over the Severn. 
 It was certainly a bold experiment for a first trial, the span 
 of the arch being 100 feet 6 inches, and the height from 
 the ordinary low-water line to the underside of the ribs 
 55 feet; but it was far from being elegant in its design, 
 nor was the metal very logically disposed in it. The 
 Sunderland Bridge, begun by Tom Payne, and finished 
 under the superintendence of Thomas Wilson, of Rother¬ 
 ham, in the year 1796, was the next structure of importance 
 in which cast-iron was used; the springing line of the 
 arch is placed at 60 feet above low-water line, the chord of 
 the arc is not less than 236 feet, and its versed sine is 
 34 feet—dimensions, in fact, which have rarely been ex¬ 
 ceeded at the present day. It was, however, frightfully 
 ugly, especially in the abutments, which are totally devoid 
 of elegance or any attempt at design. The Buildwas Bridge, 
 by Telford, over the Severn, finished in 1796, presented 
 at least an appearance of study on the part of the engineer, 
 and though great exception may be taken to the logical 
 principles on which the design was made, the appearance 
 of this bridge is far superior to that of contemporary works 
 of the same description. No iron bridges were attempted 
 on the Continent about this period, for the metallurgic arts 
 of our neighbours were not sufficiently advanced to allow 
 of their using cast-iron in the bold manner introduced 
 here by Telford principally, whose aqueducts on the 
 Ellesmere canal at once secured the position of the new 
 material. 
 
 When France settled into order from the consequences 
 of her fearful outburst of 1793, under the stern rule of 
 
 Napoleon, it was soon found that in order to secure the 
 boasted unity of the “ Great Nation” a complete system 
 of roads was necessary. The Emperor, therefore, paid 
 great attention to the organization of the Ministry 
 of Public Works, and impressed great activity on the 
 operations of the Engineers of the Ponts et Chaussees. 
 Now the leading men of that branch of the public service, 
 during the period of the first Empire, had been men edu¬ 
 cated in the school of the Perronets and the Hupeaus of 
 the previous generation, and had imbibed the taste for 
 the arts of the brighter periods of antiquity, which had 
 been so strangely exemplified by David and his school, 
 and by the Anach arsis Clootz or other parodists of the 
 republicans of Greece and of Rome, in matters political. 
 They were, however, men of great science, and were thus 
 preserved from many of the errors into which the more 
 mechanical copyists of antiquity in the other branches of 
 art unquestionably fell. The consequence was that the 
 Engineers of the Ponts et Chaussees during the Empire 
 adopted a style of building which bore markedly the im¬ 
 press of the ruling genius of the nation, and which may 
 be described as presenting a bold, massive simplicity, and 
 a monumental grandeur, strikingly like the style of the 
 works executed in the commencement of the Roman 
 Empire. The bridges of Jena, Sevres, Rouen, Frouart, 
 the Mont Cenis and the Simplon routes, may be cited as 
 illustrations of the works of this period; and the names 
 of such men as Gauthey, Rony, Lamande, Sganzin, 
 Lamblardie, Le Masson, Lecreulx, Deschamps, Girard, 
 &c., as representatives of the prevailing taste in engineer¬ 
 ing works. The Ponts of Jdna and of Sevres are, in their 
 respective styles, amongst the most beautiful works in 
 existence, and the stone bridge of Rouen is equally beau¬ 
 tiful; in fact, the segmental, semicircular, and elliptical 
 stone arches are in these bridges handled with consum¬ 
 mate skill. The Pont de la Concorde is a work of this 
 period, which has been admired more than it deserves, 
 because the heavy stunted columns on the face of the 
 piers have evidently little to do with the main purposes 
 of the bridge, and in themselves they are very ugly; 
 but the arches are bold, their proportions well calcu¬ 
 lated, and there is an air of solid grandeur about the 
 whole mass. As a rule, indeed, the French engineers of 
 the beginning of this century were almost liable to the 
 accusation of affecting an absence of ornament, and of 
 trusting for effect to the mass of their compositions. Is 
 this an error? Frankly, if it be so, we are mistaken in 
 our own opinions on the subject of the taste to be dis¬ 
 played in bridge building; for we hold that the Pont de 
 Jena is (leaving out of account, for the present, the ques¬ 
 tion of the horizontal road line) one of the finest bridges 
 of Europe, notwithstanding the modern improvements in 
 the practical arts of construction. After the peace of 
 1815, during the reign of the Bourbons aud the early part 
 of the reign of Louis Philippe, the same taste prevailed 
 amongst the leaders of the Administration of the Ponts 
 et Chaussees as during the days of the first Napoleon. 
 Nor could it well be otherwise, because such men as 
 Deschamps, Yicat, Navier, Minard, Emery, Bruy ere. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 115 
 
 Yirla, Reibel, &c., lxad been educated in the midst of the 
 representatives of tbe period immediately preceding their 
 day, and the modes of thought engendered by the or¬ 
 ganization of the Empire were still prevalent, in the higher 
 branches of the public administration at least. In the 
 early periods of the “ Restauration,” the use of iron as a 
 material for bridge building began to extend in France, 
 and the bridges of the Jardin du Roi (since demolished, 
 and replaced by a stone bridge), the Pont des Arts, and 
 the Carrousel may be cited as illustrations of the style of 
 treatment then adopted. Between 1820 and 1836, also, 
 the erection of numerous chain and wire suspension 
 bridges over the Seine, Garonne, Soane, and Rhone, under 
 the directions of Navier, Seguin, Yicat, Leblanc, and 
 others, modified to some extent the face of the art of 
 bridge building, but, as we shall have occasion to see, 
 only for a time. It may be advisable here to observe 
 that the French engineers, and the engineers of the 
 countries which followed the example of that nation, such 
 as the Swiss, Spaniards, Russians, &c., adopted the system 
 of iron wire suspension in preference to that of the solid 
 bar chains so universally adopted in England, and that it 
 is precisely to this fact that we may attribute the small 
 durability of the French suspension bridges. 
 
 In the early years of the present century the art of 
 bridge building in England passed through some curious 
 phases, dependent principally upon the individual tastes of 
 the more eminent engineers, which seem to have been sin¬ 
 gularly modified by the effects of practical experience. 
 Thus Mr. Rennie, in his design for the Kelso Bridge, evi¬ 
 dently was preluding for the design of Waterloo Bridge ; 
 and in the Esk and Cree bridges he made the first 
 attempts to carry out the principles of composition, sub¬ 
 sequently applied with such marked success by his sons, 
 in the Hyde Park and Staines bridges. In the Stoneleigh, 
 Kelso, and Waterloo bridges, Mr. Rennie fell into tbe 
 errors of employing either columns or niches in the solid 
 parts of his piers and abutments, and of introducing ela¬ 
 borate cornices, which look strangely inconsistent with tbe 
 massive simplicity of the general outline. At one period 
 of his life, Rennie seems to have delighted in the per¬ 
 fectly horizontal line for the roadway of his bridges; for 
 at Stoneleigh, Kelso, and Waterloo he adopted that prin¬ 
 ciple ; but in the Esk, the Cree, and the London bridges 
 he adopted a slightly curved line both for his roadway and 
 his cornice, and he seems at last to have recognised the 
 existence of the optical law which causes every long hori¬ 
 zontal line to appear to deflect in the middle of its length. 
 Telford’s works contain few signs of the development of 
 taste thus observable in those of Rennie, for the Mont- 
 ford, Bewdley, Tongueland, and Gloucester bridges, erected 
 at very different periods of Telford’s career, are alike de¬ 
 ficient in feeling or elegance of form, whilst they display 
 an affectation of architectural treatment and a desire to 
 introduce “ jutty, frieze, buttress, coigne of vantage” of 
 the Batty Langley style of Gothic, which are often posi¬ 
 tively ludicrous. The bridges on the Highland roads 
 and the Highgate Archway may be exempted from this 
 general condemnation; but even in them the ignorance of 
 
 Telford, in everything connected with optical effects, is 
 painfully evident to an educated eye, and whatever may 
 have been his merits as a contractor, he was very far from 
 being entitled to rank as an artist. Telford, in fact, seems 
 not to have possessed any knowledge of the laws of per¬ 
 spective or of light and shade; so that the effect of his 
 works is very different from that of their geometrical ele¬ 
 vations, and perhaps from what he himself intended; 
 moreover, his early education as a mason seems to have 
 impressed on his mind a strange love for mouldings, 
 rustics, and other modes of cutting up his plain spaces. 
 In the Glasgow Bridge, which, by the way, is far from 
 being his worst work, illustrations of these defects may be 
 observed; and it also displays Telford’s preference for the 
 segmental arch, over the more elegant elliptical one 
 adopted by the French engineers, and by Rennie in his 
 best works. Contemporaneously with these “ giants of 
 engineering,” such men as Smirke erected the very ele¬ 
 gant bridge over the Eden, near Carlisle; Harrison, the 
 wonderful segmental arch of Chester; Nimmo, the beau¬ 
 tiful bridge of Limerick; Walker, the Bow Bridge, &c.; 
 and in their productions there was unquestionably to be 
 discovered an attempt to introduce in this department of 
 art a greater degree of elegance than has prevailed of 
 late years amongst us. The use of cast iron had at this 
 period been earnestly adopted in England, and such works 
 as the Craig Ellachie and the Tewkesbury Bridges by 
 Telford, the Southwark Bridge by Rennie, the Yauxhall 
 Bridge by Walker, the Laira Bridge by Rendel, the 
 Chepstow Bridge by Rastrick, furnish good illustrations of 
 the different manners in which that material was em¬ 
 ployed. The suspension bridges of Dryburgh, Menai, 
 Conway, &c., by Telford; the Tyne and Hammersmith, 
 &c. bridges, by Captain Sir C. Brown; the Bourbon 
 Bridge by Brunei, &c., were erected about the close of the 
 first quarter of the century ; and, notwithstanding the re¬ 
 cent rapid growth of the profession of engineering, they 
 still command the admiration of the qualified observer. 
 The Menai Bridge, indeed, is even at the present day re¬ 
 markable for the boldness and tbe hardihood of its pro¬ 
 portions, and though its details are sadly deficient in every¬ 
 thing like artistic feeling, Telford’s Suspension Bridge pro¬ 
 duces a far more pleasing effect upon the eye than does the 
 more recent and more ambitious structure of the Britannia 
 Bridge. Sir C. Brown’s work at Hammersmith is also a 
 remarkable structure, and as an artistic production it may 
 well compare with the Fribourg, or even with the more 
 recent and more ornate Pesth Bridge, by Tierney Clark. 
 Reference may here be made to a peculiar class of bridges 
 —viz., tbe canal aqueducts, many of which were erected 
 during the first quarter of the present century : such, for 
 instance, as the Ceiriog and the Pont y Cystre Aqueducts, 
 by Telford, and the Lune Aqueduct, by Rennie, for they 
 were of great boldness, and the latter especially of great 
 beauty — far superior, indeed, to the boasted Pont du 
 Guetin, erected in France about this period. 
 
 In Germany and in Italy the style adopted at the period 
 now under consideration was very similar to the one which 
 prevailed in France, and therefore it hardly requires a 
 
 Q 2 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 116 
 
 special notice. Wiebeking, it is true, constructed a series 
 of wooden bridges of rather peculiar outlines, dependent 
 upon the modes of framing he adopted, but masked with 
 thin planks in a manner intended to imitate stone con¬ 
 struction, but which simply produced miserable and im¬ 
 possible shams. In the provinces of Westphalia, and 
 upon the affluents of the Rhine and of the Danube many 
 substantial and elegant stone bridges were erected; and 
 the bridges over the Dora Riparia, at Turin, and of Buf- 
 falora over the Mincio, merit moi’e than a passing notice. 
 In all these cases, however, the engineers seem to have 
 adopted the principles of design which had regulated the 
 practice of the best epochs of the French school—that is 
 to say, of Hupeau, Perronet, Lamande, &c.; they trusted, 
 for the effect of their compositions, more to the mass 
 and simplicity of outline than to the introduction of 
 petty ornamental details, and to some extent they are 
 liable to the reproach of making an ostentatious display of 
 the mathematical principles of their construction. In the 
 United States, also, the art of bridge building was culti¬ 
 vated to a great extent for roads and canals ; but the nature 
 of the materials at hand, the peculiar organization of 
 society, the politico-economical conditions of the country, 
 and the singular inelegance of taste, manners, and modes 
 of thought of the inhabitants of the United States, all 
 combined to render it difficult to attempt to communicate 
 any artistic character to works supposed to be simply useful. 
 The feverish restlessness of the “ working bees” of 
 America is, indeed, unfavourable to the cultivation of 
 refined taste, for the latter can only co-exist with the 
 leisure and reflection of an advanced state of society. The 
 American bridges of the earlier portions of the nineteenth 
 century, then, may be consulted by those who wish to 
 study the modes of constructing cheaply huge timber 
 structures—as, for instance, in the case of the bridge over 
 the Delaware at Trenton, the colossus bridge near Phila¬ 
 delphia, the timber aqueduct at Georgetown, &c.; but the 
 only lessons the art student would learn from them would 
 be, in fact, “ what to avoid.” All high art is the product of 
 calm, earnest reflection by highly refined minds, and men 
 of that disposition are sorely out of place in a country 
 wherein the first struggles against nature are still being 
 waged; they are neither listened to, or appreciated by, 
 their more energetic and more practical contemporaries. 
 
 The preceding remarks have designedly been limited to 
 the period antecedent to the introduction of the railway 
 system, because a very marked change came over the face 
 of the art of bridge building subsequently to 1830, con¬ 
 nected with so many modifying circumstances in the 
 contemporaneous condition of society as to require a 
 special and elaborate organization. But in concluding 
 the first part of this investigation, it may be important to 
 call attention to one fact which has unquestionably had a 
 great influence on the external character of bridge building, 
 considered as a branch of monumental architecture— 
 namely,that both in England and in America the profession 
 of engineering is open to all the world; whilst on the 
 Continent of Europe all the public works of that de¬ 
 scription are confined to the regularly educated branches 
 
 of the public administration. Neither of these systems 
 can be considered perfectly satisfactory for the interests of 
 art, because the system of liberty, whilst it certainly is 
 favourable for the exhibition of originality, too often 
 enables men to dispense with study and refinement; 
 whilst, on the other hand, the system of State education, 
 and of administrative centralization, leads to the sup¬ 
 pression of individual character and the exhibition of 
 pedantry. In fact, all the French bridges of the periods 
 hitherto considered have an air of family likeness; the 
 English ones are by no means so monotonous, but they 
 are too often utterly devoid of taste : and it is to be ob¬ 
 served that all the improvements in the mechanical exe¬ 
 cution of bridges have originated of late years either 
 amongst ourselves or in America. The introduction of 
 cast-iron as a material for bridge building, the invention 
 of the suspension bridges, the introduction of the lattice, 
 and of the Burr’s framed girders, could hardly have taken 
 place in countries were organized bodies of Government 
 engineers must avoid hazardous experiments, and must be 
 able to shelter themselves from the chances of failure by 
 adhering to the processes w r hich had rece ved the sanction 
 of practical experience. It is curious, that precisely in 
 the cases of the introduction of cast iron, and of the sus¬ 
 pension principle, into France, some striking illustration 
 of the results of the two systems may be observed; for 
 Lamande, in his Pont du Jardin du Roi (as then called), 
 neglected to provide for the contraction and expansion of 
 the metal; and though some temporary expedients were 
 adopted to obviate the consequences of the error, the bridge 
 itself was never sound, and it has lately been destroyed. 
 Again, Navier himself, the first mathematician, and the 
 soundest writer on physics France has yet produced, was 
 able to write a work on the Philosophy of Suspension 
 Bridges, which still guides the practice of European en¬ 
 gineers ; but he was not able to build a suspension bridge 
 that could support even a trial load. Of course, there is 
 no necessary connexion between the deficiencies, artistic 
 or constructional, of the engineers of the respective coun¬ 
 tries ; but the results referred to above occur with such 
 frequency that we are justified in suspecting that the cause 
 we have suggested may have produced them ; and then, in 
 the end, the system of liberty is more likely to be favour¬ 
 able to the true interests of art—as it certainly is to the 
 moral interests of society—than the most intelligent sys¬ 
 tem of centralization can possibly be. Starting, as the 
 English engineers did, from the Brindleys, Chapmans, 
 Jessops, &c., they rose in artistic merit to the school of 
 the Rennies, Nimmo, Rendel, &c.; whilst the French 
 engineers could barely maintain the reputation of their 
 glorious school of the commencement of the eighteenth 
 century. The one body had a vital principle at work to 
 urge it forward; the other was condemned to immobility 
 and routine. In both cases, however, the artistic character 
 of bridges has suffered greatly from the removal of this 
 class of structures from the attributions of architects, and 
 their transfer to a body of men whose pursuits do not lead 
 to the study of beauty, of form, or of colour; and, as we 
 shall have occasion to observe hereafter, it is to be feared 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 117 
 
 that until engineers again become somewhat of architects, 
 as Perronet was, the artistic capabilities of the new 
 materials, and of the new descriptions of structures re¬ 
 quired to meet the wants of our modern civilization, will 
 not be treated so as to secure for them their full effects. 
 
 The fact that Continental engineers work with the 
 money of the State, and thus are, generally speaking, freed 
 from the necessity of studying the economical results of 
 their operations, enables them to pay more attention to 
 the artistic effects of their designs than can be done in 
 countries where public works are confided to private con- 
 tractoi’s, who must derive a profit from their investments, 
 and are thus tempted to economize wherever it is possible 
 so to do. This alone would suffice to establish a difference 
 between the styles of engineering in the respective coun¬ 
 tries ; but, in addition thereto, it may be observed, that 
 local and physical circumstances have had considerable 
 influence on the expression of English and French engineer¬ 
 ing especially. Thus the majority of the English rivers 
 are tidal, and have beds composed of alluvial matters of 
 great depth, whilst the French rivers are mostly without 
 tides, torrential, and with rocky bottoms. In France, 
 building stones of singular beauty are to be obtained every¬ 
 where, and at a moderate expense, so that the use of stone 
 is universal; in England, stone is always dear, and 
 masonry, from the fact of its being an art of luxury, is 
 very costly. The consequence is, that there is a tendency 
 on the part of our engineers to resort to the methods of 
 construction which may attain the desired ends with the 
 smallest expenditure of means, and to avoid the use pre¬ 
 cisely of those materials which are required to communi¬ 
 cate a monumental character to their works. Whatever 
 may be the precise amount of influence of these various 
 causes, it is, however, certain that the general type of 
 French and other continental engineering was bolder and 
 more artistic than that of English or American engineer¬ 
 ing until the railway system was introduced. The changes 
 which have come over the whole of this branch of the arts, 
 since 1830, have been sufficiently important to require a 
 special and detailed examination, reserved for another 
 article. 
 
 New Pulpit in Westminster Abbey. —A very beautiful pulpit 
 is being erected in Westminster Abbey. Its position is on the north 
 of the nave. The pulpit, which is octagonal in shape, is composed of 
 carved yellow Mansfield stone and coloured marble, and is a mixture of 
 the early English and French styles. The body of the work is divided 
 into compartments inlaid with diamond-shaped panels, containing circular 
 ornaments inlaid with various coloured marbles. Six finely-carved 
 figures, representing St. Peter, St. Paul, and the four Evangelists, are 
 placed at the angles dividing the panels, the centre panel containing 
 an exquisitely-cut medallion portrait of the Saviour in white marble, 
 and crowned with thorns. The pulpit is supported by coloured marble 
 pillars, and is approached by a flight of stone steps, with coloured 
 marble and stone balustrades. The whole of the details of this elegant 
 work are richly carved, and it forms a noble addition to the 
 cathedral. The architect is Mr. G. G. Scott, and the sculptor Mr. 
 Farmer. 
 
 Test eor Poisonous Paper-hangings. —Common spirit of harts¬ 
 horn or ammonia is a sure test for arsenic. On application, the beau¬ 
 tiful but dangerous green turns to a blue. A small drop, on the back 
 of a leaf, might be made to reveal the secret of its deadly composition ; 
 but the unnatural vividity of the green itself is almost sufficient. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE VICTORIA FOUNTAIN, VICTORIA PARK. 
 
 Plates I. and II. 
 
 We have much pleasure in presenting to our readers this month a fine 
 view of the most elegant drinking fountain in the metropolis, perhaps 
 in the world. We have, in various parts of the country, very many 
 chaste and beautiful fountains; they are however, generally small in 
 size, economy, as well as taste and utility, being a matter of serious 
 consideration to the designers. In the present instance, however, 
 money seems to have been the last thing thought about, the liberality 
 of the donor being so profuse that every part of the structure is finished 
 in the most elaborate and costly manner. We shall preface our descrip¬ 
 tion of the fountain itself with a brief account of the locality in which 
 it is situated, that we may see how appropriate the gift is that has been 
 bestowed on it by a lady whose benevolence is universally known. 
 
 Victoria Park is situated at the east end of London, adjoining the 
 densely populated districts of Bethnal-green and Mile-end. It covers 
 an area of 275 acres, is laid out with great taste, well stocked with 
 trees, shrubs, and flowers, and has lakes for boating and bathing, as 
 well as an excellent gymnasium. There are also refreshment-booths, 
 and, indeed, everything that can minister to the wants and pleasure of 
 those who seek relaxation from the toils and cares of life in healthful 
 exercise in the open air. On Sundays, and certain evenings of the 
 week, there is an excellent band of music playing on a stand erected for 
 their accommodation. As may be expected, the park is generally 
 visited by great numbers of people every day, and we are credibly 
 iuformed that there are seldom less than sixty thousand people there on 
 Sunday afternoon listening to the music. 
 
 The east end of London is too often a terra incognita, not simply 
 to visitors from the country, who are seldom induced to extend 
 their travels in town beyond the Tower; but, comparatively 
 speaking, few people in London itself dwelling to the west of 
 Temple-bar, know anything about the immense districts lying east 
 and north-east of the Royal Exchange, and which contain many 
 hundreds of thousands of inhabitants. To the myriads who live 
 by the docks and shipping, and who congregate about Ratcliffe-high- 
 way, Commercial-road, Whitechapel, Stepney, and Mile-end, must be 
 added the immense population, Jewish, Christian, and heathen, which 
 lives and trades in the neighbourhood of the Minories and Shoreditch, 
 the Spitalfields weavers, and the vast nondescript population that sur¬ 
 rounds Bethnal-green and Hackney-road. It is for their benefit that 
 this new park has been formed, and to them Miss Coutts has given 
 this beautiful fountain. Prior to its erection, the park had water in 
 great abundance. There was 
 
 Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. 
 
 And if we may judge from the manner in which it was surrounded 
 when we visited it the other day, and the eager competition which 
 there was for the cups, we should judge that there were many “ thirsty 
 souls” in the locality, and that no gift could have been more acceptable 
 than an unlimited supply of pure water. 
 
 If we were disposed to criticise the work at all, the only fault that 
 we should find with it is, that it is too fine to last. The stone carving 
 is too minute to endure as it should for generations to come. It is, 
 however, well executed, and reflects great credit on all the parties con¬ 
 cerned in its production. The following are the dimensions and general 
 description of the building:— 
 
 Its arrangement is octangular, and consists of a podium, or base, 
 40ft 9in. diameter, and 3ft. 6in. high ; and of a superstructure 24ft. 
 6in. diameter, and 55ft. high. 
 
 The podium contains eight flights of steps 6ft. 4in. wide, leading to 
 the superstructure. Its masonry consists of Portland and Kentish 
 ragstone ; Gaseby stone being employed for the steps and paving. 
 
 The superstructure is divisible into an exterior and an interior oo- 
 tagon. The former consists of eight piers of polished Peterhead 
 granite, with carved capitals of Aubigny stone, from which spring 
 moulded arches and groins. The height of the piers is 18ft. 6in.; 
 that of the crown of the arches is 25ft. above the podium. The 
 spandrils of the arches contain moulded panels with slabs of polished 
 marble. Above these rises the principal cornice, composed of arches, 
 brackets, and pendents, enriched with red and green marbles, and sur¬ 
 mounted by a perforated parapet. The total height to the top of the 
 parapet is 34ft. from the podium. 
 
 The interior octagon is 13ft. 4in. diameter, or lift. 2in. less than 
 
118 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 the arcade by which it is surrounded. Its base is three steps, or lft. 
 6in. above the top of the podium. Four of its sides are occupied by 
 the fountains; three are filled with marble panels and inserted tracery; 
 and on the eighth is situated the entrance to a chamber which affords 
 access to the water supply and roof. At each angle a polished shaft of 
 Peterhead granite. Gin. diameter, rises to the height of the external 
 piers, and is connected with them by moulded ribs which intersect the 
 groined roof of the arcade. 
 
 Each fountain consists of a grey Aberdeen granite pedestal with 
 bronze enrichments, containing a basin to receive the water, which is 
 supplied by a Sicilian marble figure in a fluted niche above it. The 
 head of the niche is canopied, carved, and filled with tracery. The 
 drinking cups are of bronze, silver-plated on the inside, and on the 
 outside bearing Burton’s adage:—“Temperance is a bridle of gold.” 
 The panels of the alternate sides of the octagon are filled with slabs 
 of Connemara green marble, separated by a band of Emperor’s red 
 marble, bearing the following inscription:—“The Victoria Fountain, 
 given anno domini 1862, by Angela Georgina Burdett Coutts, for the 
 love of God and country.” 
 
 This inscription, and the inserted tracery above it, are filled with 
 green mastic. 
 
 Foliage and armorial bearings occupy the upper portion of the door¬ 
 way leading to the interior of the building. They are enclosed by a 
 label, upon which is carved in letters of high relief the first verse of 
 the twenty-fouith Psalm:—“The earth is the Lord’s, and all that 
 therein is.” 
 
 The door is of oak, and contains panels of bronze grille. Both the 
 exterior and interior octagons are covered by a timber roof, which 
 springs lft. 9in. above the top of the perforated parapet, and rises to 
 the height of 55ft. above the podium, or 58ft. 6in. above the ground¬ 
 line. Clock-dials, and gablets filled with green glass, occupy its alter¬ 
 nate sides. 
 
 The covering and the ornamental details connected with it are of 
 lead. The cresting upon the angle ribs is of wrought-iron, and the 
 vane is copper-gilt. The works have been executed under the direction 
 of Mr. H. A. Darbishire. 
 
 VIEW OF NEW BUILDINGS, 107 & 108, CHEAPSIDE. 
 Plates III. & IV. 
 
 We are unable to give the full particulars respecting the premises shown 
 in Plates III. and IV., which we are in the habit of supplying to our 
 readers in other cases, from the architect declining to supply us with his 
 drawings, under the mistaken impression, if we understood him aright, 
 that no artist can do justice to his buildings; however, as our office 
 is to give examples of the architecture of the Victorian Age, the pho¬ 
 tographer has enabled us to ovei’come all difficulties and present an 
 accurate view of the premises, which are spacious and well built, and 
 appear to be well adapted for business purposes. The building presents 
 a bold and commanding aspect to the street, ind eating at once com¬ 
 mercial enterprise and good taste. 
 
 London Levels and Embankments. —“ It will be,” says the 
 City Press, “ as well to glance at the state of things generally as to 
 London levels. The northern embankment will probably throw a 
 heavier tide-wave on the southern shore, throughout the whole length 
 of the over-populated districts of Rotherhithe, Southwark, and Lambeth. 
 Irrespective of the northern embankment, it is quite certain that the 
 southern side needs some better defence than it has ; and it is a down¬ 
 right grievous thing that the embankment of the Thames on both 
 shores should be a matter of such difficulty as it is represented. 
 Where’s the money to come from ? It is a question not of money, 
 but of influence. The northern shore has immense influence, and so 
 it finds a resource in the coal-tax. Let the south side concentrate its 
 influence on this matter, and the money will be forthcoming by some 
 process or other, just as water may be squeezed out of a flint, if you 
 only squeeze hard enough. As a finger-post is better than nothing to 
 people who are not quite sure about their way, we advise the south to 
 hunt up the hackney carriage tax—to lay heavy hands on it, and to 
 call on the whole metropolis to obtain the appi'opriation of it, first as 
 an embanking fund, and after that as a fund for metropolis improve¬ 
 ments generally. It is a monstrous thing for the imperial exchequer 
 to swallow the tax on cabs and omnibuses. A tax upon the shoe-black 
 brigade would hardly be more paltry; and if such a tax is to be de¬ 
 fended at all, let it be for looal purposes, and to improve the highways 
 on which the tax is earned.” 
 
 SCULPTURE IN THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION. 
 
 BY JOHN GARDNER, ESQ. 
 
 There is a very prevalent misconception respecting the scope and 
 capabilities of sculpture. Because it excludes colour and perspective, 
 it is assumed to be applicable only to a far more limited sphere than 
 the sister art of painting. A few sentences it is thought might em¬ 
 brace a description of all it can ever aim at or hope to accomplish. 
 Female beauty, manly strength, muscular action, infantine roundness 
 and tenderness,—and these restricted within the conventional forms of 
 Greek art,—and when we have added to these, portraiture, in busts, 
 and statues, we are supposed to have exhausted all the appropriate 
 aims of the sculptor’s avt. Nothing can be more erroneous. Without 
 discussing or referring to any of the many theories of the beautiful 
 abstractedly, it may be questioned whether it is not wholly fallacious 
 to consider the Greek type of the human form as exclusively entitled 
 to the designation “ beautiful.” Whatever ethnological doctrines we 
 may be disposed to receive, it cannot be denied that mankind presents, 
 in the most obvious manner, varieties suggestive of not one but many 
 typical forms of beauty, and these abstracted from individual peculiarities, 
 furnish standards to which no one can deny the appellation—beautiful. 
 It would be just as rational for the naturalist to ignore all species of 
 animals, and confine himself to the archetypal idea deduced by Professor 
 Owen from the vertebrata, as the only fit subject for pictorial repre¬ 
 sentation, as for the sculptor to confine himself to Greek models, Cupid, 
 Venus, Apollo, and Hercules—only slightly modifying them to fit on 
 a new nomenclature. Perhaps Greek art may be held to represent 
 abstractedly the species Homo and the Caucasian races; but there are 
 other varieties in the human form, running through childhood, ado¬ 
 lescence, and the sexes, offering to the sculptor a wide range of beauty 
 and grace for artistic presentation. It is not for us to point out how 
 numerous these races are, or which the power of a sculptor could 
 abstract and re-create. That ordinary observers can see and feel the 
 characteristics of an almost limitless number will not be denied, for a 
 departure from the standard form still confined within the circle of 
 nature, still marked with all her power and perfection, is traceable in 
 peoples divided merely by a mountain chain or an ocean strait. If a 
 sculptor had an eye to perceive and skill to represent the Italian, 
 French, English, or Celtic forms, an abstract beauty might be drawn 
 from each. To take a popular ethnological view of mankind, we have 
 the Japhetic, Shemitic, and Hamyric races as primary divisions, with 
 strongly marked characters, severally susceptible of abstract beauty. 
 The Egyptian monuments present us with three subdivisions of the 
 Hamyric family—the Mizraim, Cushite, and Canaanite or Negro. It 
 is true their artists had neither the knowledge nor the taste to work 
 out an ideal from any of these; but traces of an ideal beauty, particu¬ 
 larly of the ancient people of Egypt, are discoverable. It was only 
 the Greeks who attained to any perfection of sesthetic development. 
 But we who have the several races before us need not confine our art 
 within any such limits. How widely different is the form of the 
 Hindoo female from that of the Medician Venus; yet how exquisitely 
 beautiful is the elastic form, the rounded limb, the delicately chiselled 
 countenance of these women ; and if the ideal which nature thus offers 
 to us was skilfully rendered in marble, who can doubt the result would 
 rival even the Caucasian model P But to descend still lower in the 
 subdivision, we could point to localities in various parts of the world 
 whence beautiful forms, with peculiar features, might be studied, and 
 varieties of beauty, each perfect, might be educed. There is a scat¬ 
 tered people in the island of Ceylon extremely low in tire scale of 
 civilization, whose women astonish us by their striking but peculiar 
 beauty. In certain parts of Spain and of France there are localities 
 where a common characteristic form may be found, widely different 
 to the prevailing form of the nation, and suggesting a descent from 
 some eminently beautiful common progenitor, its archetype. We are 
 ourselves so mixed a race, that it might be thought no traces of typical 
 forms could be found in England. But it is not so. Nature vindi¬ 
 cates the boundlessness of her resources amid the strictness of her laws, 
 by bringing out of even such confusion of race the several types of 
 our primitive ancestors. If an accurate observer will visit the peasantry 
 of our counties, and watch them as they congregate at fairs or markets, 
 he will still find the characteristic features of British, Danish, Saxon, 
 and Norman prevail in various localities. It appears that even indi¬ 
 viduals impress a character upon their descendants for several genera¬ 
 tions, and in many large and scattered families a typical form may be 
 found, and often one of ideal beauty. We have heard a great painter 
 observe that there is that in the nicer traits of face and form which 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 119 
 
 constitute individuality—a species of beauty susceptible of being seized 
 and represented, and producing all the effects of high art. We do not 
 know that sculpture has to any great extent hitherto attempted even 
 to represent the external form of races and families, or seized the ideal 
 of beauty lurking therein. In the International Exhibition we note 
 some recognition of the principle we are discussing. Mr. Storey’s two 
 figures in the Roman Court are examples of beauty belonging to the 
 Egyptian division of the Hamyric race. Both the “ Sybil” and the 
 “ Cleopatra” are, in our judgment, successful and admirable statues— 
 the ideal woman of Mizriam. We conceive that the one designated in 
 the catalogue “ Cleopatra,” probably in deference to an assumed popular 
 ignorance, is misnamed. We see nothing in this figure suggestive of 
 the beautiful voluptuary who captivated the stern Roman general, 
 shook even the virtue of Caesar, and agitated the world by her exube¬ 
 rant profligacy. She sits calm, majestic, thoughtful, her splendid 
 limbs and form veiled, yet revealed by skilful drapery, the cares of 
 empire on her brow. She is “ every inch a queen”—not Cleopatra, 
 indeed, but the great Queen Hatv-a-Sit, the sister and co-sovereign of 
 Thothmes II., the regent guardian of Thothmes III.,’ the builder of 
 the finest obelisk of Karnac, and other great architectural works—a 
 woman and a ruler, not passionless, but sternly repressing all selfish 
 emotion she meditates on her high duties, and broods over her deep 
 resolves in an attitude of quietness and silence. When so much is 
 accomplished that is admirable in these works of Storey, he must be 
 the veriest Smellfungus or Dryasdust who can see only defects and 
 minute shortcomings in execution. 
 
 Mr. J. Mozier’s statue of an “ Indian Girl,” in the Roman Court, 
 full of character and expression, and modelled from a race as unlike the 
 Caucasian as the Shemitic, well illustrates our position. His “ Wept 
 of Wish-ton-Wish,” is also Indian, but in this respect is not consistent 
 with the poet, the lost child being Anglo-Saxon, and it is scarcely pos¬ 
 sible that she should have acquired a form so characteristic of the 
 aboriginal American. 
 
 Mr. Spence, in his group, “ The Finding of Moses,” while recog¬ 
 nising the Cushite slave in the attendant on the Egyptian Princesses, 
 has missed the Mizraim character of the latter, and given them the 
 face of Greek women. We shall have occasion to notice another work 
 by this artist, of merit so high that we can only conclude the idea of 
 race did not occur to him in this work, as he assuredly has the skill to 
 represent it. 
 
 Again Tlieed has “ Rebecca at the Well,” without a trace of the 
 Hebrew woman, whatever otherwise its merits; and nothing from 
 Theed’s chisel can be without much to admire. 
 
 There is also in the Roman Court a group of statuettes by Benzoni, 
 entitled “ Mary asks her Mother to explain the Prophecy of Isaiah.” 
 A sweet composition, most delicately executed. The mother is a 
 Jewess, the daughter an English girl. 
 
 These hints and illustrations will, we trust, suffice to convey our 
 meaning, and to suggest the existence of a mine whence only a few 
 grains have been drawn, but which teems with incalculable treasures. 
 
 We would now notice a conventional notion, having a basis of truth, 
 but wrongly applied, and so far a fallacy, which exerts a great influence 
 upon sculpture, and stands forth very prominently in the works, both 
 British and foreign, in the International Exhibition. The human 
 form is almost, if not altogether, the sole object of the sculptor’s art. 
 Its structure, form, surface, and actions, are his constant study. A 
 correct knowledge of these, together with mechanical skill to represent 
 them in marble, constitutes him an artist. True. But when as a 
 corollary, it is added that to represent the form he has so studied 
 should be his sole aim, or that it is his highest aim, we demur to the 
 inference. The sculptor must know the superficial anatomy of man 
 and woman; that is, he must know the muscular structure which un¬ 
 derlies the skin and subjacent textures, else how can he represent actions 
 caused by the contraction of the muscles. He ought to know the 
 modifications of the outward surface resulting from the movements of 
 the muscles below it in childhood, in the female, and the male. But 
 this knowledge is not for display, but to subserve the higher purposes 
 of his art. He is a mere pedant, who is for ever referring to the 
 sources of his scholarship and quoting the rules of his speech. He is 
 a pedant in art, who is for ever displaying his anatomical knowledge 
 by representing male figures with the muscles all looking as if stripped 
 of their covering so beautifully contrived by nature to conceal them. 
 
 Perraud’s statue of “ Adam,” under the eastern dome, may serve to 
 illustrate this remark. If the first man were so imperfect as to be 
 denuded of the subcutaneous integument common to his descendants, 
 this figure may be accepted. 
 
 In like manner we have Milo’s “ Hercules,” “ Marius seated on the 
 Ruins of Carthage,” and a host of other statues, executed apparently only 
 to show off the sculptors’ anatomical knowledge. Are they faultless in 
 even this respect? We would put this question to a practical anatomist. 
 
 But the naked female forms, which we cannot separately note because 
 they are legion, do they indicate knowledge or ignorance ? Some, 
 doubtless, are as true as they are beautiful, perfectly pure in treatment 
 and graceful in attitude. Others are strangely faulty. Canova’s 
 “ Yenus ” in the nave, with cold, regular features of face, is so un¬ 
 womanly in form, that were she endowed with life she could never 
 bring forth a child; her pelvic development is insufficient. 
 
 The selection of naked female forms for sculpture is a vulgar error. 
 It estranges the public from the art, repels the refined in taste, shocks 
 the moral sentiment, and is altogether unnecessary for the display of 
 all that is beautiful and graceful and lovely in woman. Let us entreat 
 the reader to visit the Lycian room in the British Museum, and look 
 at the female dancing figures. There he will see limbs instinct with 
 life and motion, exquisite in form and expression, and yet all so draped 
 as only a perfect knowledge of the naked figure would enable a master 
 to clothe them, and yet do they not convey the impression of exalted 
 ideal beauty ? 
 
 Drapery seems to be the difficulty and abhorrence of the sculptor. 
 It can be judged of by the unlearned far more accurately than naked 
 figures. If a man cannot truthfully represent the folds of a woollen, 
 a silken, or a linen garment, how can he depict the surface of a human 
 form, male or female ? In the latter he may calculate on the spec¬ 
 tator’s ignorance, and impose on his judgment; but an article of 
 clothing, if ill represented, strikes the eye of every one in a moment. 
 The ever varying fashions in dress, usually ugliness striving with 
 ugliness, are no fit subjects to render into marble. But there is suf¬ 
 ficient scope in the poetry of drapery to obviate all difficulty to a true 
 artist. Does any one imagine that the artists of the middle ages, who 
 have left such figures, for example, as those of Queen Eleanor, Ma¬ 
 donnas, and children, as we see remaining about Gothic buildings, did 
 not know the naked form ? How, then, could they execute womanly 
 statues of such surpassing grace and sweetness ? We have often 
 regretted that modern sculpture has not grown out of this, rather than 
 revert to Greek art for its inspiration; we should have been in a far 
 better case than at present, or are likely to be, until nature has become 
 our only exemplar and study 1 
 
 So much for mere external form as a source of the beautiful and a 
 field for the sculptor. He has also moral and intellectual attributes to 
 study and represent. Feeling and thought are surely illimitable. 
 The expression of these constitutes the glory of “ the human face 
 divine.” The sculptor who is able to see and represent emotional or 
 mental expression need have no apprehension of not being appreciated. 
 The recognition of feeling is instinctive; an infant detects love in the 
 countenance which is turned upon it, in a moment; the least instructed 
 person seldom fails to interpret correctly the meaning of a look, when 
 moved by kindness, or anger, or dislike. Cannot feeling be presented 
 in marble ? If not, the sculptor’s art is indeed poor. Intellectual 
 character and thought is more recondite in its influence on external 
 forms, but it is not beyond the reach of the really great artist. 
 
 Again, can the incidents of human life, real and imaginary, be 
 reckoned P If they can, then the resulting number is the boundary of 
 sculpture in this direction. When a story is told, either by painting 
 or sculpture, it is understood by a larger portion of the public than 
 either beauty of form or intellectual expression. A moderate amount 
 of mechanical skill here suffices to effect all the purposes of art. 
 When, however, an incident is well told, and the acting figures exhibit 
 high artistic qualities, we have a combination which in one sense sur¬ 
 passes even the most exalted ideal beauty. It. is, as we have said, 
 more comprehensible, which is no small consideration when art aims 
 at popularity. “ An audience fit, though few,” may satisfy a genius 
 like that of Milton, but far more would prefer a wider circle of 
 admirers. 
 
 A Belgian artist, Kessel, exhibits a group of three figures escaping 
 from a flood. The story is told truthfully. The figures—a male, 
 female, and child—are beautifully wrought and full of natural ex¬ 
 pression, the draperies are skilfully managed, and the whole conveys 
 its meaning with great taste and judgment. 
 
 In depicting in marble poetic incidents, no one surpasses our own 
 Flaxman. Selecting his subjects from the classic poets, he renders the 
 story into the universal language of the heart, understood and felt by 
 every people. The “ Mercury and Pandora” and “ Shield of Achilles,” 
 “ Cephalus and Aurora,” are so familiar to every one as compositions, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 that we are glad to see once again the originals, of which casts and 
 copies abound. 
 
 Woolner’s “ Constance and Arthur,” a very simple group—two 
 children, one draped, the other naked—has excited general admiration. 
 Critics profess to see in the expression of the faces the fact that they 
 represent deaf and dumb children. Certainly there is great merit in 
 the execution; the draped figure is particularly happy. Why the male 
 figure should he represented nude would be inexplicable if we did not 
 know the conventional prejudice of sculptors for nudity. 
 
 Malpieri’s “ Shepherd and his Dog ” is a most natural representa¬ 
 tion. Both the boy and dog are full of life, action, and expression. 
 The combination is highly artistic and pleasing; so much is made 
 of the simple incident as to show how very slender the materials may be 
 to impart pleasure when those qualities are embodied in a work of art. 
 
 Theed’s “ Prodigal’s Return” is another incident composition with 
 high merits both of conception and execution. His “ Seven Bas- 
 reiiefs,” each representing an historical story, are already well known 
 and justly appreciated. 
 
 Gatley exhibits a large bas-relief of “ Pharaoh and his Army in the 
 Red Sea,” with enormous labour and skillul execution. This work 
 appears to us to fail in interest. The overthrown host, a contused 
 mass of human figures, horses, and chariots, forms a subject which is 
 wanting in any sentiment calculated to move sympathy. 
 
 There are many more sculptors representing various incidents of 
 human life not specially demanding notice, unless we could persuade 
 ourselves to enter on the ungracious task of unfavourable criticism. 
 To so undemonstrative a people as we are, many of these works, even 
 when representing such solemn subjects as the “ Entombment, The 
 Virgin Mother with the Body of Christ,” and the like, appear histrionic, 
 
 spasmodic, or whatever word expresses over-action. Ihese faults, if 
 faults they be, attach to most of the Italian and French compositions. 
 Calmness, simplicity, tenderness, are quite compatible with nay, are 
 they not inseparable from deep emotion ? Art to be of any value 
 must, in representing feeling, even more than form, keep close to nature. 
 
 The remaining subject for sculpture—portraiture—is by far the one 
 most followed. It embraces what we may designate mythological and 
 real portraiture, of the latter it has been well said:— 
 
 “ To portrait-sculptors is committed a high task and a serious re¬ 
 sponsibility. The nation trusts her great men to them; they are 
 charged to carry down through ages the actual likeness of those 
 who will be to the future what Milton or Bacon are to us. 
 
 “ We all know how brilliant and attractive are the written portraits 
 of such men, when drawn by some vivid master. Yet there is always 
 a void felt—a sense of blankness and as of the shadows of the grave— 
 if we cannot complete the Book by the Picture. Without this, our 
 heroes were like acquaintances known only by letter; with what pene¬ 
 trative genius in portrait can give, they become familiar friends. 
 
 “ And we may often most thankfully accept work less excellent, if 
 the likeness be honestly set forth.” 
 
 Visitors to the International Exhibition have the great privilege, 
 almost for the first time, of examining the busts of the great men of a 
 recently-passed age, as left to us by contemporary sculptors, and com¬ 
 paring them with those of our own times. Among the former, 
 Nollekens stands forth in great strength. We never before have been 
 so sensible of his great merits. There is so much character, truth, 
 force, and careful execution in his busts, that we are as familiar with 
 the faces of his subjects as of our most intimate acquaintances, “ Pitt,” 
 “Fox,” “Lord Liverpool,” “ Sir Joseph Banks,” and others live in 
 our memories as they exist in Nollekens’ busts. 
 
 Chantrey, the fashionable bust sculptor of his times, like Sir T. 
 Lawrence in painting, has only barely in one or two works left a de¬ 
 monstration that had he not given himself to conventional smoothness 
 and feebleness he might have been a great sculptor, and left works to 
 delight future generations. To us his busts are insipid and meaning¬ 
 less to a painful and repulsive degree. 
 
 The question as'to how far the portrait-sculptor must adhere literally 
 to his model or idealize? will be answered differently by different persons, 
 according to their ideas of art. Wordsworth, the poet, wished to be 
 known to posterity by Chantrey’s bust; yet it neither presented a 
 literal likeness nor an ideal of the poet’s face. If compared with 
 Piekersgill’s portrait, a literal inanimate likeness, and Boxall’s, wherein 
 the poet is reciting his favourite poems, and is animated into an ideal, 
 Chantrey’s bust would not be supposed to have any relation to either, 
 or to Wordsworth himself. 
 
 We conceive that some faces when idealized are more like than the 
 most literal copy, while others must be represented by the strictest 
 
 adherence to peculiarities. The latter is indeed apt to degenerate into 
 caricature, but it is usually most satisfactory to ordinary observers. 
 
 Steele’s “ Florence Nightingale.” How can we find terms to ex¬ 
 press the beauty, sweetness, grace, and expression of this charming 
 bust ? It must be like, it will be like when in a higher state its 
 original is glorified. No mere form can possibly convey to the spec¬ 
 tator’s heart such an impression of loveliness ; 
 
 For there is that immortal grace 
 
 Which ne’er shall part from thy possession; 
 
 That moral beauty of the face 
 
 Which constitutes its sweet expression. 
 
 In every respect admirable, this bust ought to teach a lesson to all. 
 To the artist, that dignity and greatness are mental and moral qualities; 
 to the ordinary spectator, that art is worthy of profound study as a 
 source of the purest emotions, as a means of fixing in an enduring 
 material, the evanescent glory, intellectual and aesthetic, beaming from 
 the countenance of a woman belonging to the highest order of her sex. 
 
 Butler’s “ Hon. Mrs. Norton.” Here again is beauty inexpressibly 
 attractive—admirably represented. 
 
 Weekes’s “ Mary Woolstonecraft.” Feminine gentleness, maternal 
 and household kindness personified. (We do not know whether truth¬ 
 ful or not, remembering “ The Rights of Women,” &c.) 
 
 These three busts should be carefully examined. They redeem the 
 sculptor’s art from its greatest reproach. They are of infinitely greater 
 worth than a thousand nude Nymphs, Venuses, Girls bathing, and the 
 like, in which sculptors delight, and are calculated to impart to every 
 well regulated mind infinitely more heartfelt pleasure and satisfaction. 
 
 Woolner’s “ Rajah Brooke ” and “ Rev. F. D. Maurice ” are worthy 
 of all praise for their life-like resemblance and artistic merit. His 
 “ Alfred Tennyson ” we do not like, hoping the “ mouthing greatness ” 
 is the sculptor’s, not the poet’s. 
 
 We have alluded to mythological portraiture. By this we intend 
 to embrace not only historical personages recreated from imagination, 
 but characters from our poets and novelists, whose images float through 
 our fancy with those of our loved ones and remembered acquaintances. 
 There are some admirable examples in the Exhibition. Would there 
 were more! 
 
 Bell’s “Dorothea” has long been as familiar to the lovers of grace 
 and beauty as a popular poem. His “ Lalage ” is a worthy companion. 
 
 “ Oliver Cromwell” is full of character and greatness, but we should 
 have preferred it of the exact size of the real man, and it might have 
 been made so without any loss. 
 
 “ The Eagle Slayer.” Manly strength and vigorous muscular action 
 well and truthfully represented. We would say to Mr. Bell—Look into 
 poetry and fiction for subjects to employ your chisel upon, and patronage 
 and popularity will be sure to follow. 
 
 Woolner’s “ Lord Bacon ” shocks us at first by its diminutive figure, 
 but the feeling passes into admiration as we gaze and reflect. 
 
 Spence’s “ Jeanie Deans before Queen Caroline.” We have only 
 here the figure of Jeanie in the well-known act of supplicating for 
 her sister’s life. We deem this a most successful statue. We know 
 that it produces on the spectator the almost choking sense of anxiety 
 and sympathy, conveyed by the narrative of the great Scottish ma¬ 
 gician, and we do not envy the critic who can coolly occupy himself 
 in looking only at a fault in the drapery. Having had occasion to 
 point out a defect in this artist’s more ambitious group of the “ Finding 
 of Moses,” we have the more pleasure in expressing unmingled satis¬ 
 faction in this charming representation of one who, with Scott himself, 
 we must confess “ is a great favourite of ours.” 
 
 Thus we could proceed over a department of art far more extensive 
 than is generally supposed, but we must pause, far from having ex¬ 
 hausted the subject as it is represented in the International Exhibition. 
 Upwards of a hundred sculptors have sent works to this great col¬ 
 lection. We can only in conclusion express a fervent hope that our 
 scanty remarks and faint hints will induce many a thoughtful person 
 to turn his attention to sculpture, and increase the number of those 
 who can appreciate genius and skill, and extend the number of patrons 
 of an art calculated to gratify, instruct, and elevate mankind. 
 
 The Emperor of the French is still actively engaged in writing the 
 account of the conquest of Gaul by Julius Caesar. He has sent one of 
 his aides-de-camp to Boulogne-sur-Mer to ascertain the exact position 
 of the I tins Portus. Antiquaries differ in opinion on this subject. 
 According to Walkenaer, that ancient Gallic port was situated at Wis- 
 sant. Others place it at Ambleteuse or at Boulogne. Others are of 
 opinion that it was more to the north —at Caylis, or at Mardyke. All' 
 these contested points are to be cleared up in the Emperor’s work. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 121 
 
 FOREIGN ARCHITECTURAL DESIGNS IN THE INTER¬ 
 NATIONAL EXHIBITION. 
 
 The student of architecture will meet with disappointment if he ex¬ 
 pects to get from the collection of works of this class of Art, vouch¬ 
 safed to be sent by our neighbours, any idea of what is really going 
 on amongst them. A bald hint or two is all that will be obtained. 
 First, to characterize the movement fostered for anything but archi¬ 
 tectural purposes by the French Government, may be found some 
 drawings of ancient buildings, and of the restorations effected upon 
 them. Under the general direction of the most accomplished architect 
 of the age, M. Viollet-le-Duc, less mischief has been done than might 
 have been feared. Yet, as this gentleman cannot be everywhere, and 
 by far the greatest portion of the work is entrusted to subordinates, 
 terrible havoc has, beyond all denial, been effected upon many a noble 
 building, such as shall never again look fair in the student’s eyes. 
 What M. Viollet-le-Duc has effected at Carcassonne architects know 
 well; here is a work thence, the “ Church at St. Nazairede” (17), con¬ 
 tributed by M. Huguenet. M. Penel sends, after the same, an en¬ 
 graving of the “ Church of St. Saturnin” (26), a good example of 
 restoration; M. Soudain, the same, after the same, of the “ Church of 
 Eu” (19), with its interesting apsidal chapels and flying buttresses. 
 The “Church of Poissy” (20), contributed by the same, after the same, 
 also looks bald enough. M. Sauvageot’s “ City of Carcassonne” (21), 
 after M. le Due, is a mine of study for architects and amateurs, who 
 will find much to astonish them in the work referred to. We would 
 ten times rather see the old, ragged, time-worn “ Church of St. Michel 
 d’Entraigues” (14), which is shown after M. Abadie, by M. Guillaumot, 
 in both the restored and actual states, in its ancient aspect than in the 
 smug, mean-looking modern attempt at galvanizing a time-worn 
 edifice. This section shows one phase of the present state of French 
 Art— i.e., restoration, which, let it be borne in mind, appears here in 
 its sole pardonable aspect. 
 
 A second phase, that of the attempt to reconstruct something that 
 is bizarre, and out of the common road of art, may be seen in M. 
 Normand’s drawings of “ Prince Napoleon’s House ” (31-2). Like all 
 our neighbours’ work of the kind, this is exceedingly cleverly done. 
 The theme has been mastered with a gay felicity, so to say, which, if 
 it does not go very deeply into the soul of old designs, gives a startling 
 re-edification of its material parts. We should like much to see the 
 building in question, which has peculiar points of interest, more fully 
 treated than it appears in these two drawings. The one is a door in 
 the atrium, certainly very rich and bold, and decorated with perfect 
 taste; the other, a portion of interior wall decoration, made extremely 
 satisfactory of its kind by judicious employment of blue, red, and 
 black, the last as a dado on the wall, the whole relieved admirably by 
 characteristic decorative painting. M. Denuelle’s studies from old 
 mural paintings at Avignon and Autun are extremely interesting, as 
 examples of the Mediaeval decorations of a school not much studied by 
 our polychromists. 
 
 A tliird phase of modern French architectural art finds expression 
 in several engravings from designs now in course of erection or recently 
 completed in Paris and elsewhere in the style of Napoleon the Third— 
 so, we fear, this astonishing revelation will be called, and be condemned 
 m times To come. It is viler than the most corrupt of the Louis-the- 
 Fourteenth manner, because it has not the splendour that shone through 
 All the vulgarity of that age. It is more unmeaning than the poorest 
 modern Renaissance, because, with a fanfare of purpose, its decorations 
 mean nothing, and yet have not the slightest claim to the miserly 
 merit of cheapness. Not severe, like good Classic,—not rich and 
 varied, like good Gothic,—not grand, like Lombardic,—nor cheap, like 
 modern Italian,—this style has not the conventional grace of the Palla- 
 dian, its much-abused parent, and will only remain to be condemned 
 as trinketty, and a hollow sham from parapet to wall base. We com¬ 
 mend to the student the volume entitled “ The Brick Architecture of 
 Prussia ” (501-2), with fine examples from Osterburg, Stendhal, &c., 
 and the designs from Hamburg, by MM. Meuron and Haller (557). 
 
 To make Habd Watee in Cemented Tanks Soft. —Sir: For 
 this. Nature most appropriately supplies the best remedy by the growth 
 of that green lining, which some occasionally so inconsiderately remove; 
 and, as a result, their previously soft water again becomes hard. I 
 would suggest to your correspondent to place in the tank some con¬ 
 ferva, such as the green coating off the walls of a well; and, if this 
 will but fix itself on the sides of his tank, he will find it effect a cost¬ 
 less and “ perfect cure.”— Petee Hinckes Bied, F.L.S. 
 
 4 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL LITERATURE. 
 
 AN EVENING IN THE SOANE MUSEUM. 
 
 By Peofessoe Smikke. 
 
 That Sir John Soane was perfectly aware of the importance to every 
 architect of a thoroughly practical knowledge of building is sufficiently 
 apparent from the contents of his library, and was repeatedly dwelt on 
 by him in the lectures. But it is to his books on architecture as a fine 
 art that I am bound here to confine my attention, and it is certainly to 
 the works of this character that the library owes its chief attraction, and 
 from them it derives its chief value. It comprises nearly every archi¬ 
 tectural publication of value that appeared during his own professional 
 career, down to the period of his death in 1837, as well as a large store 
 of books of early date. 
 
 Among the earliest in the catalogue you will find Alberti’s “ Libri 
 decern de re Edificatoria.” Of this well-known book there are here six 
 editions, but among those I do not find the original and earliest Latin 
 edition of 1512. A folio edition, in Italian and English, appears to be 
 that which its owner read with greatest ease, as it contains many mar¬ 
 ginal notes by him, and other evidences of his having carefully 
 read it. 
 
 On a former occasion I have expressed my admiration of Alberti’s 
 works at Rimini and elsewhere. His church of San Francesco is in 
 the best style of the early Renaissance, before it had degenerated 
 into the commonplace manner of the following century. It is worthy 
 of note, that Vasari touches but slightly and with some apparent 
 indifference upon the work, although he must have been espe¬ 
 cially familiar with it, seeing that Vasari dwelt some time in Rimini. 
 In truth, Vasari, excellent as he may be as a biographer, had, as an 
 artist, but little genius; and he was unable to appreciate the some¬ 
 what dry, antiquated manner of Alberti. That artist not only pos¬ 
 sessed undoubted talent as a practical architect, but remarkable merit 
 also as a writer. His book is full of valuable remarks, and attests at 
 once his good sense and his erudition. What is also specially worthy 
 of our observation is, that he appears in an eminent degree to have 
 united a minute and accurate technical knowledge with a fine aesthetic 
 feeling. The distinction which he draws between beauty and orna¬ 
 ment is, I think, most just and true. “ Beauty,” he says, “ is some¬ 
 thing lovely, which is proper and innate, and diffused over the whole 
 body; whilst ornament is something superadded, or adventitious rather 
 than innate.” 
 
 Alberti, and I might say Alberti’s school,—the school of the early 
 Renaissance,—well understood the distinction between beauty and orna¬ 
 ment. The vulgar of all ages, countries, and ranks, are apt to think 
 that ornament means beauty; and that in order to be beautiful we 
 must needs be lavish in ornamentation. This great error leads directly 
 to that excess which degrades art, whether it be architecture or her 
 sister arts. It was excess which marked the decadence of Roman and 
 of Mediteval artj and it was the disfigurement of excess which stained 
 the purity of the early Renaissance. 
 
 The next book which comes to hand is of a very different character. 
 Indeed, one is sometimes almost led to feel surprise how books so 
 widely asunder in their character and quality can submit to the close 
 and constant juxtaposition that they are subjected to on our book¬ 
 shelves. 
 
 The book, I say, which I now take up, is Dietterlin’s “ Architectura; 
 de Constitutione, Symmetria, ac Proportione quinque Columnarum,” 
 published at Nuremburg, in 1598. It bears sad testimony to the rapid 
 deterioration of art, and to a special proneness to a corrupt excess 
 among our German neighbours. 
 
 In the extravagant and grotesque scrolls and cartouches which 
 abound in this volume, we see at once from whence were derived the 
 strange ornaments of our Elizabethan and Jacobite styles; although 
 those styles, as displayed in our own country, might lay claim to the 
 character of simplicity and sobriety by the side of these wild enormi¬ 
 ties of Dietterlin. 
 
 I find on the shelves a volume of drawings, chiefly executed on 
 vellum, described in its manuscript title as “ Disegni di Architettura del 
 Anno 1400.” It is a curious volume, of the history of which I know 
 nothing, although of its authenticity, for various reasons, there can be, 
 I think, no reasonable doubt. The execution of the drawings is very 
 indifferent, and there is little attempt at correct delineation; and yet 
 there is not wanting freedom and a certain amount of manual and 
 almost artistic dexterity. The volume seems to do for the fifteenth 
 century what Willars de Honicourt’s book of drawings, recently sub- 
 
 R 
 
122 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE YICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 mitted to the Institute of British Architects, does for the thirteenth 
 century. 
 
 There are between sixty and seventy drawings, hut none bear any 
 titles, and they are probably original studies or exercises in architec¬ 
 tural and ornamental design. A very little correction and modification 
 would make some of these designs elegant compositions. There is not, 
 I believe, a single instance in the book of a dominant order determining 
 the proportions of a building. Columns there are in abundance, and of 
 a great variety of whimsical forms; but in all cases, I believe, each tier 
 of columns and arches represents a separate floor. A constant use of 
 arches and niches, aprevailing habit of panelling and enriching the panels 
 with arabesques, as on the sides of square columns and pilasters; and a 
 habit of covering all vacant spaces with square and circular panels and 
 medallions, filled in either with slabs of coloured marble, or with fo¬ 
 liage, generally in somewhat flat relief; these appear to be the pre¬ 
 vailing distinctions of the quatro-cento style, which stands out with 
 very marked differences from the style immediately preceding and suc¬ 
 ceeding it. 
 
 Another book which I must not pass by is a fine copy of the earliest 
 edition, “ Philiberte de l’Orme’s Architecture,” bearing date 1567. 
 Under the auspices of Catherine di Medicis, he may be regarded as the 
 introducer of the Renaissance into northern Europe. She came of a 
 race eminently distinguished in the history of art; and the author, in 
 his dedication, eulogistically refers to her as delighting in architecture, 
 and as sketching with her own hand the noble palaces which she 
 caused to be erected. 
 
 It is curious to find at this early period the author groaning over 
 the degeneracy of his profession, and complaining how few true archi¬ 
 tects there then were. Some self-styled architects were, he says, but 
 mere “ master masons,” whilst others were but geometricians, or men 
 addicted to the literature, but neglecting the practice of their pro¬ 
 fession. His imaginary portraiture of the beau-ideal of an architect 
 savours of the quaint, allegorical taste of his time. 
 
 He would represent an architect, he says (and there is an illustrative 
 diagram of such a man), with three eyes— one, for the observation of 
 Divine things and the works of God; the second, for the careful 
 observation of things present and around him ; and the third, for 
 looking into the future, foreseeing, and so providing against, coming 
 evils. He should also have four ears, indicating that it more behoves 
 him to listen than to speak. Four hands should be given to him, 
 that he might be the better able to do all that is required and expected 
 that he should do; whilst his feet are to be winged, pointing out that 
 ho must be of quick intelligence and rapid in action. There are many 
 other things worthy of observation in this curious volume, but I must 
 hasten on to others. 
 
 I find a volume of original drawings by Carlo Fontana, formerly in 
 the library of Paine, an eminent architect of the last century. It 
 represents the state at that period of the Coliseum at Rome, and 
 Fontana’s supposed restoration of it, with his suggestion, certainly not 
 a happy one, for the erection of a church within the area of the amphi¬ 
 theatre, to be dedicated to the Christian martyrs who suffered there. 
 
 I need scarcely say that this monogram on the Coliseum is greatly 
 inferior to that unpublished work on the same subject existing in the 
 British Museum, to which I before directed your attention. These 
 drawings of the seventeenth century, by Fontana, are very neatly and 
 ably executed, quite free from the dry hard manner prevalent among 
 architects at a later date. The lines are in brown, and the shadows 
 delicately indicated, with a cool, neutral wash, probably Indian ink, 
 or some colour equivalent to it. This mode of execution was retained 
 throughout the last century, for I find here a large folio volume, con¬ 
 taining original drawings by Wren and others of his time, which are 
 all similarly treated. Some also in the volume attributed to Inigo 
 Jones are so executed. 
 
 Among the treasures which Sir John considered to be worthy of a 
 place in the strong-room of his museum, I find a Roman missal of the 
 early part of the sixteenth century, illustrated with miniatures of the 
 greatest delicacy by Lucas van Leyden and his scholars. It is worthy 
 of remark that all the architecture and ornamentation with which 
 these miniatures are elaborately enriched are throughout very dis¬ 
 tinctly Gothic in style; late, it is true, but without any admixture of 
 classic taste; and yet this artist died in 1533, and was therefore con¬ 
 temporary with Raffaelle and Giulio Romano. The co-existence of 
 two schools so remote in character and spirit, yet geographically so 
 near, as Flanders and Italy, shows how little social intercourse could 
 have existed in Europe at that period. Whilst admitting his merits 
 and superiority to others of his school, Lucas von Leyden is described 
 
 by Fuseli as “ ignorant of light and shade in massesand his forms 
 are condemned as “ lank, meagre, and ignobleand yet this artist 
 was studying and painting within what is now a day or two’s journey 
 from the easels of Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Raffaelle. 
 
 There are, I trust, few architects who are not aware of the beau¬ 
 tiful work preserved in this same strong closet, known as the “ Com¬ 
 mentaries on St. Paul’s Gospel,” by Marino Grimani, illustrated by 
 the beautiful illuminations of Giulio Clovio. This work, certainly the 
 gem of the collection, presents a curious contrast in its architectural 
 accessories with that to which I have just adverted. The style is 
 strictly Raffaelesque, with medallions and arabesques such as we see in 
 the loggia of the Vatican. I cannot pass from this magnificent and 
 almost priceless manuscript volume without adverting to the elegant 
 character of the handwriting. When we look upon the beautifully- 
 uniform, clear, well-proportioned, deliberately-shaped, and, I would 
 almost say, dignified style of the lettering, and compare it with the 
 caligraphy of the nineteenth century, in which the words look often 
 more like the hasty unmeaning scratches of a bad pen than the ex¬ 
 pressions of a man’s thought and sense, it must be admitted that the 
 lapse of three hundred years has brought, in this respect, at all events, 
 no improvements whatever. 
 
 Descending, now, one hundred years, we come to the sketch-book of 
 Inigo Jones—not the original book, it is true, but an admirable fac¬ 
 simile of it, presented to Sir John by the late Duke of Devonshire, the 
 owner of Inigo’s own handiwork. It is not for me to dwell on this 
 sketch-book, as it consists exclusively of studies of figures and drapery. 
 The book bears date at Rome in 1614, when the great architect was 
 about forty years old. I cannot refrain here from adding that the 
 motto which graces the first page of this sketch-book is “ Altro diletto 
 et ‘ imparar non trovo” (I have no pleasure but in acquiring know¬ 
 ledge) ; a sentiment which does high honour to Inigo Jones, and one 
 which should never be absent from the mind of an artist, be he young 
 or old. When a man ha3 reached the period at which he imagines 
 that he has learnt his art and needs no more teaching, he may rest 
 assured that he has fallen fully into the sear and yellow leaf. 
 
 In an evening devoted to the literary bequest of Sir John Soane, it 
 seems natural that I should not altogether abstain from touching, for 
 at least a few minutes, upon that eminent professor’s own peculiarities 
 of architectural design. Although we may very wisely abstain from 
 the remotest criticism on the works of contemporary artists, that 
 salutary limitation has long ceased to exempt Sir John’s works from 
 the free comment of the critic. Upwards of a quarter of a century 
 has passed away since his death. 
 
 I have, however, no inclination nor intention to use the lash. 
 I would but remark, generally, that a constant endeavour to seek out 
 picturesque effects, especially in the design of interior architecture, 
 seems to have led to much of that eccentricity of manner which most 
 critics are inclined to condemn in his works, although it may be found 
 to have resulted in some ingenious combinations, and perhaps, occa¬ 
 sionally, in some original conceptions. 
 
 The Etruscan Tombs. —From an article published by the Revue 
 Contemporaine, the following particulars are extracted :—After some 
 researches, Mr. Francois informed Mr. Desvergers that on the embank¬ 
 ment of Fiora, at Vulci, at an altitude of 90 ft. above the river, he had 
 bored the ground, and found an artificial grotto presenting none of the 
 characteristics of a sepulchre, and which was probably intended to pro¬ 
 tect a more important crypt from the effects of infiltration. A shaft 
 was therefore sunk to the depth of 36 ft. below the surface, when a 
 subterranean passage was discovered, 9 feet in breadth and 99 feet 
 long. This being cleared, the pioneers reached the door of a hypogeum. 
 When the first gleam of light from their torches revealed the interior, 
 they saw warriors clad in armour lying on their sarcophagi: the forms, 
 the vestments, stuffs, and colours remaining visible for a few minutes, 
 until the air from without gradually penetrating into the crypt, effaced 
 the whole. All that remained to the persevering explorers were the 
 weapons, jewels, bones falling to dust, and a few threads of gold and 
 silver which had been woven into their garments. The walls were, 
 however, covered with paintings representing an episode of the “ Iliad,” 
 and of very superior execution, evidently pointing to the influence of 
 Greek civilization in Etruria. The crypt had eight entrances, all 
 adorned with the peculiar Etruscan mouldings which Vitruvius calls 
 barycephaloe, or top-heavy. The inscriptions were ascertained to be 
 of a period anterior to that of the conquest of Etruria hy the Romans. 
 Mr. Desvergers therefore concludes that this tomb dated from the 
 fourth century before our era. Some of the treasures now in the 
 Musee Napoleon III. belonged to this tomb. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 123 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 EPHESUS AND THE TEMPLE OF DIANA * 
 
 If any author wishes to see his ideas clothed in the richest attire that 
 printer and publisher can dress them in, we advise him by all means 
 to get into the good graces of Messrs. Day and Son, who are likely to 
 satisfy the most intense vanity that authorcraft can aspire to. Every¬ 
 thing that pictures in plain and coloured lithography, the finest and 
 thickest paper, new type, and elegant binding can offer to win the 
 fickle jade Fame, is supplied at this establishment. As a matter of 
 course a large circulation is not to be looked for, on account of the great 
 expense of the works; still we suppose it pays well. In a country so 
 wealthy as England there are always many people who can afford to 
 buy expensive publications, and whatever form they were issued in, 
 such works as that before us can never be popular except it be in a very 
 limited circle. 
 
 Mr. Falkener is a learned man and a very clear and elegant writer. 
 Throughout, his work is written in good sound English, except when 
 the author allows his classical phraseology to render him unintelligible 
 to common readers without the aid of a lexicon. Such passages as the 
 following are pedantically absurd:—“ The distance from Ephesus to 
 Susa was four hundred and sixty-eight parasangs, or fourteen thousand 
 and forty stadia; in this distance were one hundred and fourteen 
 stathmi, or mansions with excellent inns; these were all splendid and 
 beautiful.” (p. 127.) Why could not the author have given us the 
 number of English miles instead of the “ fourteen thousand and forty 
 stadia ?” It is high time that scholars should throw away their stilts, 
 and take to the easy and graceful motions common to simple travellers 
 on the road of knowledge. 
 
 But in spite of many such defects as those hinted at above, the 
 volume is not only readable, but interesting, and taken as a digest of 
 what was already known concerning the once famous city of Ephesus, 
 its temple and goddess, “ whom all Asia and the world worshipped,” 
 is a valuable contribution to our literature. Generally speaking, also, 
 we believe the plans of the city and its environs to be tolerably correct 
 ■—as nearly so, at all events, as anything but actual exploration can 
 make them. But after saying this, and thanking the author for the 
 pains and industry as well as learned ability which he has displayed in 
 collecting together and collating whatever is to be found in ancient 
 authors respecting it, we know next to nothing at all about the matter. 
 The world-famed Temple of Diana has disappeared so thoroughly as to 
 leave no vestige behind to indicate the spot on which it once stood. 
 It is probable, but not certain, that Mr. Falkener has pointed out the 
 locality, but his, after all, is only a probable guess. He has been able 
 to indicate the character of several of the other public buildings, and 
 has corrected an error or two which previous travellers had fallen 
 into, but he made no effort to exhume the temple. Of that he saw 
 no trace. 
 
 What we know in reality about this ancient city may be told in a 
 very brief paragraph :— 
 
 Two thousand years ago there existed on the banks of the river 
 Caystrus, on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, an ancient and very 
 populous city named Ephesus. The plain was covered with public 
 buildings vast and magnificent as any in the world. The theatre was 
 large enough to afford accommodation to 56,700 spectators, which is 
 nearly twenty times the number that any similar building in London 
 will hold, whilst the stadium or place of public assembly would seat 
 seventy-two thousand persons; the gymnasium and other public edifices 
 were upon a scale of equal grandeur. But Ephesus was not renowned 
 for any of these things, the Temple of Diana throwing them all into 
 the shade. Upon this trophy of art Asia had lavished its wealth and 
 the world its genius. Destroyed seven times, it had risen every time 
 more beautiful from its ashes; it was at once the wonder and glory of 
 the ancient world. The inhabitants of the city, which must have 
 numbered many hundreds of thousands—perhaps more than a million— 
 were reckoned amongst the most learned, skilful, and enterprising of 
 an age when the culture of Greece had reached its highest state of 
 development. The plain then being covered by those immense piles 
 of public buildings, the people built their houses upon the hill-sides 
 which rose above them, thus clustering round those eminences in a 
 healthful situation, under the most beautiful sky in the world, with a 
 river winding through the lower part of their city, and the blue deep 
 
 * Ephesus and the Temple of Diana. By Edward Falkener. London: Day 
 and Son. 
 
 waters of the great sea stretching out before it, with varying fortune, 
 the common lot of humanity for more than a thousand years, reposed 
 the magnificent city of Ephesus. But all this has perished: not a 
 single habitation has survived Ihe blight of time; the houses are all 
 gone, the very outline of the public buildings can with difficulty be 
 traced ; the harbour, which once held a vast navy, is filled up with 
 deposits from the river, until the sea has retreated from its ancient 
 boundary, and the very site of the temple is unknown. Neither is it 
 easy to make excavations in search of its foundations. The marsh in 
 which they are supposed to be buried is full of venomous reptiles, and 
 the malaria arising from the spot dangerous to human life. 
 
 These are the general and leading facts known about this celebrated 
 city. Of course, in collecting all the statements of ancient authors 
 respecting it, Mr. Falkener has been able to give us a number of inte¬ 
 resting particulars not hinted at in our summary, but they amount to 
 little, and will necessarily be received with a certain degree of reserve 
 until more is known concerning the locality of the Temple, for what¬ 
 ever faith we may have in what the Greek and Roman authors have 
 said, they have left so much unsaid, that we must suspend our judg¬ 
 ment respecting the Temple, at all events until some one with the 
 pluck and ability of Layard shall take the matter in hand. For this 
 undertaking Mr. Falkener is evidently not the man. He spent a fort¬ 
 night at Ephesus seventeen years ago, and was busily employed in 
 sketching all the time; and beyond removing a few inches of earth 
 from the tops of some half-a-dozen columns, attempted nothing in the 
 shape of excavations. He was evidently afraid of the fever and snakes, 
 and was too timid to venture into the subterranean vaults of a large 
 public building, although they stood invitingly open before him. 
 Hence we feel a disappointment in looking over his elegant volume, 
 which the author must have anticipated when he wrote such passages 
 as the following. Speaking of Pliny’s description of the Temple, he 
 says:—“ Thus, as Salmasius observes, ‘ we are not certain of any one 
 thing, notwithstanding all that Pliny and Vitruvius have written on 
 the subject; we know neither the nature of the building, nor when it 
 was erected, nor by whom.’ ” A sad conclusion, certainly, to a well- 
 written, elegant, and expensive volume. 
 
 Of the great goddess Diana and the image that fell down from 
 Jupiter, our information is about as scanty as it is respecting the 
 temple in which she was worshipped. The figure given at p. 286, from 
 an image now in the Museum at Naples, is probably only one of the 
 many forms under which the goddess was represented ; Mr. Falkener’s 
 chapter respecting her is, however, well worth reading. Nor is it 
 likely that we shall ever have any great increase to our knowledge of 
 this matter. The Iconoclasts have done their work too effectually to 
 allow us any reason to hope that a single work of art which once 
 adorned this celebrated shrine has survived their destructive hands. 
 
 But what has become of the Temple of Diana no one can tell. The 
 probability is, that some fanatics of the fourth or fifth century, in their 
 zeal against the ancient faith, razed it so as to leave not one stone upon 
 another. But even of this we are not certain. We know that it was 
 standing in the fourth century of our era, but it vanished like a shadow, 
 no one knows how or when. 
 
 THEBES AND ITS TOMBS* 
 
 To the tomb we have often been indebted for particulars as to the 
 history of the past. The spoils of the dead brought to light by acci¬ 
 dent or research, the ornamentation of the sepulchre, and the graven 
 record on stone or brass, have enabled us to find our way to the social 
 condition of generations of men who have slept for centuries; their 
 manners, customs, arts, superstitions, to their religious ceremonies, 
 laws, and long portions of their history. Greece and Rome have 
 yielded their contributions in this way in funeral urn, in monumental 
 stone, in sculptured altar, in the coin dug from the forgotten tomb, in 
 the paintings found on the walls of the buried city, in the broken 
 pottery found in the bed of a river, or the utensil of bronze turned up 
 by the ploughshare. But to the history of the past no country has 
 contributed so largely in its monuments and tombs as Egypt. 
 
 It is to “ Thebes and its Tombs and their Tenants” that the present 
 learned writer addresses himself; and his work will be found a valuable 
 contribution to our general knowledge of ancient Egypt. The materials 
 for it were collected five years ago, but the publication was deferred for 
 reasons explained in the preface, and every indulgence must be extended 
 
 * Thebes, its Tombs and their Tenants, ancient and present, including a 
 Record of Excavations in the Necropolis. By A. Henry Rliind, E.S.A., Ac. 
 London: Longman and Co. 8vo, pp. 329. 
 
 R 2 
 
124= 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 to the author in a literary point of view, when he informs us that he 
 has had to correct two-thirds of his proof-sheets about fifteen hundred 
 miles from England. He is prepared to find that his views may not 
 he in accordance with those who have already written on Egyptological 
 subjects; but where he has had occasion to dissent from the opinions 
 of writers of distinguished merit, he has always done so with a sense 
 of the consideration due to deductions that may appear to be the 
 product of thought or learning, and sometimes with diffidence as to 
 the views which he may present himself. 
 
 Thebes he treats of introductorily as the ancient capital of Egypt, 
 and chiefly as the central source which has been archseologically so 
 productive. 
 
 In eleven chapters the whole of his present subject is comprised, and 
 a brief analysis of these chapters will prepare the reader for the mate¬ 
 rials he has to consider when he takes the book in hand. Thebes is 
 the subject of the first chapter, wherein we have an account of the 
 present aspect of its site. Luxor and Karnak are brought before us, 
 the former with its great temple and obelisk, the latter with its avenues 
 of sphinxes and bulls, and massive portal towers; all is prominent but 
 solitary. The antiquity of Thebes itself is discussed; no exact date 
 can be as yet assigned for its foundation, but it was in a flourishing 
 condition 2000 B.C. perhaps. It had its decline and its fall, and early 
 Greek writers saw the city before the latter event happened. Sculptures 
 and frescoes afford evidence as to what were the manners of the people 
 and their general civilization at the period of its glory, but as to the 
 appearance, structure, and special characteristics of the city of Thebes 
 itself, they offer of evidence almost or absolutely none. But the 
 social and public life of a people is intrinsically more worthy of being 
 known than the form of a city, though that in itself is highly inte¬ 
 resting. Saxon “ Life in London,” could we ascertain it, would be 
 infinitely more interesting than a description of the ancient walls of 
 London, its barbicans and gates, and the course of the Wall brook and 
 the river Fleet. So these frescoes are more interesting than a plan of 
 Thebes. “Thus,” says the author, “all the labours of tilling and 
 reaping are often depicted with an accuracy so scrupulously minute as 
 regards the actors, that touches are introduced into the picture almost 
 
 superfluous, save in the eyes of a very honest copyist.At one 
 
 corner of such a field-view may perhaps be seen a thirsty gleaner on 
 his knees, drinking from a water-skin suspended on the lower branches 
 of a tree; at another point a colley, or cur, stands with airy impudence 
 at the heel of his master the overseer, who leans upon his staff. . . . 
 Again, a yoke of oxen with curving neck and steady step bend wil- 
 lingly to the plough, but there is not a trace even of the furrows which 
 they are making. Hounds and huntsmen, with the lasso and the bow, 
 pursue the flying and wounded deer, whose drooping head and faltering 
 step are sometimes rendered with pathetic simplicity. ... A king on 
 his throne receives the homage of his subjects and the spoils of his 
 enemies, but the palace, the temple, the hall, or the court where the 
 ceremony is held, is not attempted, or only, as in a few cases, by the 
 confused insertion of a stray pillar. A festive party enjoy the luxuries 
 of a hospitable feast, listening at the same time to bands of music; 
 but the chamber in which the banquet is spread is left to imagination. 
 Craftsmen of every kind diligently ply their trades ; the materials they 
 employ, the tools they use, even the manufactures they produce, are mi¬ 
 nutely set forth ; but the workshops in which the various processes were 
 performed have no place.” What is wanting in these “ tableaux vivants 
 without the scenery,” we should like to have had; but they are books 
 without the covers, and we should have regretted more the loss of the book 
 than of the binding, however grand or gaudy. Enough remains in 
 Egypt to give us an idea of the grandeur of its architecture, its temples 
 and palaces; but, for the history of ancient Egypt, one would rather 
 have the frescoes of the tombs than the sphinx or the pyramids. 
 Nevertheless, there are paintings which, in a rude way, afford us some 
 idea of the domestic architecture of the Egyptians. “ The paintings 
 show some to be mere quadrangular cubes pierced by a doorway with 
 fillet and bead mouldings, and by one or two corresponding windows, 
 answering to a height of two storeys. The loftiest of which any ex¬ 
 ample is given cannot be set down at more than three storeys; and its 
 exterior is much more ornate. In this case, spaces not occupied by 
 windows are panelled; and slender columns rise from the ground to 
 the flat corniced roof, which rests upon short pillars springing from 
 the walls, thus forming on the top a sort of verandah sheltered from 
 the sun and open to the cooling breeze. Other houses, surrounded by 
 gardens and pleasure grounds, laid out with ponds and trees, had 
 massive gateways or pillared porticoes; and confined apparently in 
 great part to the height of one storey and a basement, they were spread 
 
 over a more considerable space.” But the extent of the city and its 
 general aspect cannot he gathered from fresco subjects. As to the 
 extent of the city, Diodorus gives it a circuit, in Greek measurement, 
 equivalent to sixteen English miles. After comparing the accounts of 
 different authorities, the author comes to the conclusion that an average 
 segment of the ground on which Thebes stood would measure from 
 four to five miles. Streets and squares have disappeared, but enough 
 remains to testify that Thebes, in the zenith of its glory, must have 
 been a vast Egyptian city, not much smaller in area than modern 
 London. 
 
 The second chapter brings us to the Necropolis of Thebes. “ Its 
 great extent, and the elaborate nature of many of the tombs, would 
 also, if the temples had been levelled and history silent, be very certain 
 evidence of the size, magnificence, and resources of a city whose people, 
 being dead, yet speak thus far through the medium of their vast 
 abode.” The author dwells upon its nature and appearance, describing 
 the situation of the tombs, the tombs of the kings, the periods to which 
 the various tombs belong, the tombs of various descriptions inter¬ 
 mingled ; and, alas! for the intermingling of poor humanity with the 
 brutes which perish—in a ravine near the Valley of the Tombs of the 
 Queens mummied apes used to be discovered. At other points mum¬ 
 mied fish, cats, snakes, and cows have been found. The author has 
 known drawn from a sunk tomb, many hundred mummies of hawks 
 and ibises, carefully rolled in ornamental bandages, to be procured 
 along with jars of white eggs, probably of the ibis, and sundry small 
 boxes, each containing a mummied mouse, whose effigy, cut in wood 
 and in some examples gilt, was stuck on the lid. Well may he ex¬ 
 patiate upon the present death-like appearance of the Necropolis. The 
 traveller beholds the desolation of the dead, the ruins of mourning, the 
 torn fragments of materials once consecrated by affection or supersti¬ 
 tion, shreds of the fine linen and remnants of the gold ornaments 
 which swathed the wealthy, of the coarser linen and idols of clay 
 which were wrapt around the bodies of meaner men, the debris of 
 papyrus rolls inscribed “ with ritualistic guidance for the soul’s 
 career,” beads and beetles, and precious stones dropped from the un¬ 
 dertaker’s network, the wrecks of pottery which contained once the 
 viscera of the deceased, and baskets, stools, bows and arrows, fish¬ 
 hooks, bread, corn, roasted ducks, and even such children’s toys as one 
 sees even now enclosed in a monumental stone at Montmartre or Pere 
 la Chaise. 
 
 The third chapter is devoted to the results of former sepulchral re¬ 
 searches among these tombs, and the fourth gives an account of the un¬ 
 rifled tomb of a Theban dignitary and its contents. This is a most 
 interesting chapter, as it gives the results of the author’s own per¬ 
 sonal researches. Here we are on actual ground—that is, the objects 
 uncovered were sterling realities of the past, and not the manufac¬ 
 tured shams which modern Arabs sell to curious but ignorant 
 Europeans. Here appear to have been entombed Amunoph III., and 
 the princesses of the family of Thothmes III., judging from the car- 
 touches and tablets which were found. As passage or gallery one after 
 the other is explored we .read with unabated attention. We come to 
 a door remarkable from its strength and the perfect freshness of all 
 its parts, including two wooden pin-locks of the kind now used in 
 Egypt, the iron nails, with large heads, with which it was fastened 
 together, and staples of the same metal, in which a bar slipped to and 
 fro. Then, at length, we come to a well-like pit. Reared above it, 
 an erection supporting strong beams, over which the very rope of 
 twisted palm fibres still hung, that had lowered to their resting-place 
 the tenants of the sepulchre beneath, “ appealing with striking force 
 to the imagination, and presenting one of those telling pictures which, 
 from the very simplicity of their details, are often the most suggestive 
 exponents of the acts in which they have borne a part.” We must 
 refer the reader to the book itself for an account of the discoveries 
 made here, even down to the old slipper which was thrown after the 
 dead to invoke his speedy transit to immortality, even as now, an old 
 slipper is cast after the newly married pair to invoke good luck. 
 
 The rich had their burial-place and so had the poor. They often 
 lay as far apart as do now the consecrated from the unconsecrated ; and 
 Chapter V. tells us of their mode of burial. The excavations directed 
 under the superintendence of the author disclosed, in the pit, groups of 
 coffins and mummy-cases, the narrow boundaries of the dead, 
 
 Packed to humanity’s significance. 
 
 Few fine coffins here. The poor man and the pauper have in all 
 ages fared alike when they have shuffled off this mortal coil. Coarse 
 bandages for the poor inhabitant below, a coarse embalming process, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 125 
 
 no gilt, not much painting. “ By far the greater number of the bodies 
 in this burial-place were encased in mere shells of roughly smoothed 
 deal, fastened with wooden pegs, and tapering like a large truncated 
 wedge from one end to the other.” Perhaps there were undertakers 
 in those days who made contracts with the parish as it were; at all 
 events, many instances were found of the bodies of young persons in 
 coffins much too large for them, and in others the bodies lay with an 
 inappropriateness that showed a want of identity with their coffins. 
 Still, from the numbers found in these tombs, there must have often 
 been a friend or relative to fling an old shoe or slipper after the de¬ 
 parted poor man or pauper. 
 
 Chapter VI. relates to excavations among tombs of various grades, 
 and here the interest of the work is still continued. We have an 
 account of the tombs of kings and meaner men, and of the curious 
 relics found with the dead. Chapters VII. and VIII. treat on the 
 theories explanatory of Egyptian sepulture—the sepulchral evidence on 
 early metallurgic practice. The metempsychosis is considered, the 
 Egj-ptian conceptions as to the transmigration of the soul, and objec¬ 
 tions made to modes of attributing embalmment to a belief in a resur¬ 
 rection. These are matters which we cannot here enter upon. 
 
 The remaining chapters—the ninth, how the demand for Egyptian 
 relics has been supplied; the tenth, on the present tenants of the 
 tombs; and the final chapter, on the present tenants of the tombs and 
 their rulers—will amply repay perusal. There are tricks in all trades, 
 so it seems there are among dealers in the relics of Egyptian tombs. 
 Dealers in ancient coins in Borne are said to fabric imitations of an¬ 
 cient ones, and to submit them to the digestive process of the goose. 
 The coin is voided, and having its asperities smoothed by the action of 
 gastric juice, is purchased by a goose as a genuine Augustus or Nero. 
 Similar tricks are practised in Egypt. The chapters relating to the 
 “ Tenants of the Tombs” will engage the attention of the philan¬ 
 thropist and politician. 
 
 We fear that, in the space to which we have been obliged to limit 
 ourselves, we have hardly done justice to this valuable work. Apart 
 from its facts, surmises, theories, and inductions, it is written in a 
 clear and pleasant style ; and we must not omit to state that the many 
 illustrations will greatly assist the reader in fully comprehending its 
 descriptive contents. We trust soon to have more from the same able 
 and learned pen. 
 
 PALGEAVE ON THE FINE AETS* 
 
 A vast amount of discussion, not of the most amiable kind, has arisen 
 out of the circumstance of the Boyal Commissioners of the Interna¬ 
 tional Exhibition having given their sanction to Mr. Palgrave’s little 
 book of criticism on the specimens of the fine arts which are now to 
 be seen in the Exhibition. Mr. Palgrave is a critic of the earnest— 
 we might almost say—of the fierce order. He travels too fast to be a 
 safe, much less a philosophical guide; still his book has many merits, 
 not the least of which is that it is earnest, truthful, and independent. 
 The author not only means what he says, but says what he means in 
 good plain English. Take the following as his definition of the spirit 
 of true art. 
 
 “ The heart and intellect of a true Artist steal mysteriously into his 
 lines and colours; they, too, are partakers in ‘ the Soul, or whatever it 
 is, without which the material frame is inanimate and inexpressive.’ 
 
 “ It is on these simple conditions that vitality in art rests: they 
 dispense at once with all the wise trifling and jargon of the schools, 
 and leave us alone with Truth, in her sweet serious simplicity. Let 
 the aim and the work be true : why should philosophers inquire further ? 
 — in proportion to the degree of these things, those who look receive 
 noble pleasure. It is by such easy tests that we are to judge. The 
 highest aim will be that which joins nobleness of subject,—involving 
 ‘ wide interests and profound passions,’ with the fullest statement of 
 fact and the greatest amount of beauty, and expressing all in the most 
 imaginative manner. Thus in the best picture we find always most of 
 the painter’s own Soul; and such work bears with it also another un¬ 
 failing sign in its thoughtfulness and refinement of Execution. * The 
 first universal characteristic, of all great Art is Tenderness,’ remarks 
 one to whom the writer and many of his readers are deeply indebted: 
 ‘ an infinitude of tenderness is the chief gift of all the truly great 
 men.’f But men’s capacities differ: to one is given force of Imagina¬ 
 
 * Handbook to the Fine Art Collections in the International Exhibition. 
 By F. T. Palgrave. London: Macmillan and Co. 
 f J. Buskin: The Two laths. 
 
 tion, to another simple earnestness of statement, to another, perhaps, 
 humorous observation, to a fourth the passion and poetry of common 
 life. The test of all styles is, however, the same,—Sincerity of pur¬ 
 pose. The higher the aim, the harder the triumph; here we must 
 make allowance for human shortcoming, and place even imperfectly 
 executed work, if sincere in its loftiness, above a narrower perfection. 
 But the choice must be sincere: a weak religious picture will rank far 
 below an honest farmyard scene, and all the good intentions and sweet 
 feelings of men like Overbeck or Scheffer or Dobson make us only 
 regret the want of that power and truth without which their works are 
 a laborious mockery. It cannot be too much remembered, that nothing 
 but a great mind can produce a great picture. The greatest Art is 
 that which expresses the widest and truest thoughts: the utterance of 
 the greatest soul. Such will never be common, but we may have true 
 and wholesome work from lesser faculties. To quote the same writer 
 again: ‘ The difference between great and mean art lies, not indefinable 
 methods of handling, or styles of representation, or choices of subject, 
 but wholly in the nobleness of the end to which the effort of the painter 
 is addressed. We cannot say that a painter is great because he paints 
 boldly, or paints delicately; because he generalizes or particularizes; 
 because he loves detail, or because he disdains it. He is great if, by 
 any of these means, he has laid open noble truths, or aroused noble 
 emotions. It does not matter whether he toil for months upon a few 
 inches of his canvas, or cover a palace front with colour in a day, so 
 only that it be with a solemn purpose that he has filled his heart with 
 patience, or urged his hand to haste. And it does not matter whether 
 he seeks for his subjects among peasants or nobles, among the heroic 
 or the simple, in courts or in fields, so only that he behold all things 
 with a thirst for beauty, and a hatred of meanness and vice.’ 
 
 “ There is no need to add much to these fine words. When the 
 qualities enumerated come together with sincerity, we have true Art: 
 and so clear are the signs of it, that no one who brings the open heart 
 and child’s frank acceptance can fail in the first steps towards correct 
 judgment, however inexperienced in pictures. 
 
 “ Metliinks I see a quickening in his eye.” 
 
 THOUGHTS, PRACTICAL AND PHILOSOPHIC. 
 
 Beauty. —It is exceedingly hard to fix any general characteristic of 
 beauty, for as the ideas and sensations of several persons differ according 
 to the habitudes of the body and the turn of the mind, so do the 
 relations of objects to those ideas and sensations vary, whence what we 
 call beauty results. Hence arise those different opinions of a beautiful 
 thought, a beautiful woman, a beautiful painting, &c. The principles 
 of beauty, according to Mr. Hogarth, are fitness, variety, uniformity, 
 simplicity, intricacy, and quantity. Dr. Hutcheson makes uniformity 
 amidst variety the source of beauty; and he refers our ideas of it 
 merely to an implanted sense. M. Perrault distinguishes two kinds of 
 beauty in architecture, which correspond with the two species of 
 architecture; the one he calls positive and combining, such as the 
 richness of the materials, grandeur of the structure, neatness of the 
 workmanship, symmetry, &c.; the others he calls arbitrary, which 
 depend on the will, and which admit of having their proportion 
 changed without deformity. These only please by the connexion 
 or association of their ideas with others of a different kind, which 
 please themselves ; they owe their beauty to that prepossession of the 
 mind whereby a thing whose value we do know insinuates an esteem 
 for others which we do not. Thus, we observe there are many things 
 in ai-chitecture which reason and good sense would judge deformed, 
 and which, however, custom has not only made tolerable, but even 
 beautiful, by their being always joined with other beauties that are 
 positive. Thus being first pleased at viewing them in company, and 
 merely on account of their company, at length we become pleased with 
 them alone; and thus we frequently grow fond of faults, and fall in 
 love even with deformity. The architect’s glory consists in the design- 
 ment and idea of the work; his ambition should be to make the form 
 triumph over the matter.— I Votton. 
 
 Perfection. —A friend called on Michael Angelo, who was finishing 
 a statue. Some time afterwards he called again; the sculptor was still 
 at his work. His friend, looking at the figure, exclaimed, “ You have 
 been idle since I saw you last ?” “ By no means,” replied the sculptor; 
 
 “ I have retouched this part, and polished that; I have softened this 
 feature, and brought out this muscle; I have given more expression to 
 
126 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 this lip, and more energy to this limb.” “ Well, well,” said his friend ; 
 “ but all these are trifles.” “ It may be so,” replied Angelo ; “ but 
 recollect that trifles make perfection, and that perfection is no trifle.” 
 
 Power. —In surveying the great works of antiquity, such as the pyra¬ 
 mids of Egypt and other ancient monuments of art, careless observers 
 are apt to consider the works of modern times as puny and insignificant. 
 They are under a mistake; the works of the ancients and our ancestors 
 in many instances were either misapplications of labour and capital, or 
 ignorance of the objects on which to employ them usefully. London 
 has been paved for the last fifty years with granite brought from Scot¬ 
 land. If the stones and labour employed in that useful work had 
 been applied in the erection of pyramids, would not those of London 
 have been as stupendous as the Egyptian ? And yet we daily tread 
 our pavement without reflecting what a work it has been to form and 
 keep it in repair. A calculation of the number of acres in our vast 
 metropolis covered with pavement, and of the quantity of stone neces¬ 
 sary for its formation and repair during the above period, would present 
 a very curious result. 
 
 What England owes to Dutch Engineers. —Our first lessons 
 in mechanical and civil engineering were principally obtained from 
 Dutchmen, who supplied us with our first wind-mills, water-mills, and 
 pumping-engines. Holland even sent us the necessary labourers to 
 execute our first great works of drainage. The great level of the 
 Fens was drained by Vermuyden, and another Dutchman, Freestone, 
 was employed to reclaim the marsh near Wells, in Norfolk. (Janvey 
 Island, near the mouth of the Thames, was embanked by Joas Croppen- 
 burgh and his company of Dutch workmen. When a new haven was 
 required at Yarmouth, Joas Johnson, the Dutch engineer, was em¬ 
 ployed to plan and construct the works; and when a serious breach 
 occurred in the banks of the Witham, at Boston, Matthew Hake was 
 sent for from Gravelines, in Flanders ; and he brought with him not 
 only the mechanics, but the manufactured iron required for the work. 
 The art of bridge-building had sunk so low in England about the 
 middle of the last century, that we were under the necessity of em¬ 
 ploying the Swiss engineer, Labelye, to build Westminster Bridge. In 
 short, we depended for our engineering, even more than we did for our 
 pictures and our music, upon foreigners. 
 
 The Origin of St. Peter’s. —Pope Julius II. was as distin¬ 
 guished for his encouragement of talent, as for impetuosity and un¬ 
 bounded ambition in the exercise of sovereign power. It was a 
 favourite saying of his, “ that learning elevated the lowest orders of 
 society, stamped the highest value on nobility, and was the most 
 splendid gem in the diadem of sovereignty.” He was no sooner seated 
 in the papal chair, than he took care to be surrounded by men of 
 genius, and Michael Angelo was among the first whom he invited ; 
 and at the same time he sent him an order for a hundred ducats to 
 pay his expenses to Borne. After his arrival, sometime elapsed before 
 any subject could be determined upon for the exercise of his abilities ; 
 at length the Pope gave him an unlimited commission to make a mau¬ 
 soleum, in which their future fame might be combined. Having re¬ 
 ceived the commission, Michael Angelo commenced a design worthy of 
 himself and of his patron. The plan was a parallelogram, and the 
 superstructure was to consist of forty statues, many of which were to 
 be colossal, and interspersed with ornamental figures and bronze 
 basso-relievos, besides the necessary architecture, with appropriate 
 decorations to unite the composition into one stupendous whole. When 
 this magnificent design was completed, it met with the Pope’s entire 
 approbation, and Michael Angelo was desired to go into St. Peter’s, to 
 see where it could be conveniently placed at the west end of the 
 church. Nicholas V., half a century before, began to erect a new 
 tribune, but the plan had not been continued by his successors : this 
 situation Michael Angelo thought the most appropriate, and recom¬ 
 mended it to the consideration of his Holiness. The Pope inquired 
 what expense would be necessary to complete it; to which Michael 
 Angelo answered, “A hundred thousand crowns.” Julius replied, 
 “ It may be twice that sum,” and immediately gave orders to Giuliano 
 de San Gallo to consider of the best means to execute the work. San 
 Gallo, impressed with the grandeur of Michael Angelo’s design, sug¬ 
 gested to the Pope, that such a monument ought to have a chapel 
 built on purpose for it, to correspond to its importance, and that 
 every part of the composition might be exhibited to the greatest ad¬ 
 vantage ; at the same time he remarked that St. Peter’s was an old 
 church, not at all adapted for so superb a mausoleum, and any altera¬ 
 tion would only serve to destroy the character of the building. The 
 Pope listened to these observations, and ordered several architects to 
 make designs, to put him in possession of all that could be done under 
 
 existing circumstances; but in considering and reconsidering the 
 subject, he passed from one improvement to another, till at length he 
 determined to rebuild St. Peter’s itself; and this is the origin of that 
 edifice, which took 150 years to complete, and is now the grandest 
 display of architectural splendour of which modem religious worship 
 can boast. 
 
 PATENTS CONNECTED WITH BUILDING. 
 
 Improvements in Screw-Wrenches.—W. T. Weston. Dated 
 17th October, 1861.—This consists in forming on either side of the 
 handle of a screw-wrench, containing one fixed jaw or chop thereof, a 
 toothed rack, the situation of which is at that part of the handle of 
 the wrench along which the movable jaw or chop is to slide; and in 
 furnishing such movable jaw with an eccentric thread or helical worm, 
 formed on a disc or button having a milled edge; the disc being per¬ 
 forated with holes similar to a windlass or capstan, and placed with 
 its pivot perpendicularly with regard to the rack into which it works; 
 so that, by turning such screw or thread by means of its milled edge, 
 or by the application of a lever, to the holes, the movable jaw is caused 
 to move along the rack as may be desired with respect to the fixed jaw 
 of the wrench. 
 
 Improvements in Steam-Hammers. —T. Fearnley. Dated 19th 
 October, 1861.—The patentee forms the steam cylinder annular, in 
 order that the ram may pass through the inner or central part of such 
 cylinder, and thereby have increased guiding surface in its motion, as 
 also to reduce the height of it; and he forms the piston annular with 
 rods passing through the head of the cylinder to a cross-head affixed 
 to or formed upon the ram, or through the bottom of the cylinder 
 direct to the hammer above the head. He also forms the hammer to 
 surround the cylinder; the piston-rod being keyed into the hammer 
 just above the head. In this case the cylinder is fixed to the upper 
 part of the framing, and the framing below is bored, to receive and 
 guide the hammer in its motion ; whilst the inside of the hammer is 
 bored true to slide on the cylinder. He also gives motion to the 
 valves of steam-hammers by means of a spiral groove or feather, cut 
 or formed in the hammer, acting upon a pin or stud in connexion with 
 the valve or valves. 
 
 Improvements in Lifting or Hoisting Apparatus. —J. Lister 
 and D. Myers. Dated 16th October, 1861.—These improvements in 
 apparatus for arresting the fall of the cage or basket in a mine, relate, 
 first, to a combination of parts connecting the rope or chain with the 
 article to be lifted. 2. To means for preventing the overwinding of 
 the rope, whereby accidents often occur from the cage being pulled 
 over the top pulley. The details of the invention are voluminous. 
 
 Improvements in the Apparatus for and Method of In¬ 
 creasing the Illuminating Power of Gas.—W. Smith. (A 
 communication.) Dated 17th October, 1861.—This invention consists 
 in the use of a box containing capillary arrangements or apparatus, as 
 described, for producing an atmosphere of benzone vapour for the pur¬ 
 pose of charging the gas passed therethrough, as set forth. Also, in 
 the use or employment of the capillary arrangement or apparatus de¬ 
 scribed, whether benzone or any other liquid carbon be employed, for 
 the same or similar purposes. 
 
 An Improved Spring and Fastening, applicable to Gates, 
 Doors, &c. —W. T. Weston. Dated 4th November, 1861.—This inven¬ 
 tion consists in the application of a fastening to a straight rod or bar of 
 hardened and tempered steel, thereby to twist or turn it so as to form 
 a spiral, in order that, in the continual effort to regain its natural 
 position, it may exert an action or force analogous to that exercised 
 by springs of some other different constructions. 
 
 Improvements in Machinery for Enamelling Moulded 
 Surfaces. —J. H. Johnson. (A communication.) Dated 29th October, 
 1861.—This invention relates to a peculiar construction and arrange¬ 
 ment of machinery or apparatus for applying enamel to the surface of 
 wood mouldings in the process of preparing them for gilding, as well 
 as for the purpose of making an enamelled surface upon all material 
 capable of being heated in this manner. The essential features of this 
 nvention consist in the employment of a plate, the lower edge of 
 which is formed or shaped the reverse of the transverse form of the 
 moulding to which it is applied, when such plate is made self-acting 
 to the surface of the moulding whilst being traversed longitudinally 
 over it. Also in the employment of a hopper, or other suitable re¬ 
 ceptacle to contain the enamelling composition, having the lower edges 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 127 
 
 of the two end plates thereof formed or shaped the reverse of the trans¬ 
 verse form of the moulding to be enamelled, such moulding con¬ 
 stituting at the same time the bottom of the hopper or receptacle. 
 
 Improvements in Machinery or Apparatus for making 
 Pipes and other Articles of Earthenware, and in the Form 
 of Pipes for Gas, Sewage, and other Purposes. —T. Spencer and 
 T. Robinson. (Partly a communication.) Dated 2nd November, 1861.— 
 This invention refers to those machines in which the direct action of 
 steam or other fluid is employed for forcing the plastic material 
 through or into dies, and consists in the employment of an additional 
 power, whereby the patentees are enabled to maintain the pressure 
 after the moulding has been effected, and to work with a less pressure 
 of the fluid. Another part of the invention relates to making articles 
 of earthenware by a plunger, which is forced into a mould, and con¬ 
 sists—1, in covering the said plunger or mould with cloth or other 
 such material, which may be peeled off; and, 2, in giving the said 
 plunger a roughened surface. Another part of the invention relates to 
 making pipes or other articles with a socket or other design at each 
 end. Another part relates to a particular form of pipe for gas and 
 sewage; which pipes they make with an enlarged part at one end, 
 within which there is a recess, and the other end with a part capable 
 of fitting into a similar recess upon another pipe; and they prefer so 
 forming the ends that the interior diameter shall not be interrupted 
 with projections. 
 
 Certain Improvements in Steam-Hammers, and in Valves 
 
 APPLICABLE TO THE SAME AND TO OTHER STEAM-ENGINES. —R. 
 Wilson. Dated 5th November, 1861.—This consists in an improved 
 arrangement of valves and gearing for working steam-hammers, by 
 which the steam may be admitted both below and above the piston to 
 which the hammer block or ram is connected, or only to the former 
 when required. The improvements in valves for steam-hammers and 
 other steam-engines consist in so constructing them that their area 
 and, consequently, the weight and power required for working them, 
 are greatly reduced. 
 
 Improvements applicable to Buildings, in order to facili¬ 
 tate the Extinguishing of any Conflagration which may 
 happen therein. —W. P. Bayliss, the Lloyd’s, Madeley, Shropshire. 
 Dated 20th November, 1861.—This invention consists in constructing 
 buildings with each apartment or compartment with an aperture or 
 apertures at the upper part, the said apertures being in (or communi¬ 
 cating with) tubes or channels opening into the nearest chimney or 
 flue ; or the tubes or channels may be continued and opened into the 
 external atmosphere. Hence, if a conflagration should take place, it 
 will only be necessary to close the apartment or compartment, and the 
 smoke and fire will find vent by the said channels, flues, or tubes. 
 Also, for the purposes aforesaid, the patentee provides a cistern or re¬ 
 ceptacle at the upper part of the building, from which pipes descend 
 which reach from the said cistern to the basement of the building, and 
 may form supporting columns or pillars to it. The tops of the said 
 pipes, where they open to the cistern, have proper valves; and from 
 these pipes, at every floor of the building, other pipes or channels 
 branch out in such manner that valves may be applied to stop the first- 
 mentioned pipes at the level, or nearly so of such branching pipes; 
 causing such flow of water from the cistern to run into the said 
 branching pipes or channels; and thence, through suitable apertures, 
 into the apartment or compartment, or any two immediately adjoining 
 or contiguous apartments or compartments ; and this without allowing 
 the entry of the water into any other apartment or compartment. The 
 floors and roofs should be fireproof. 
 
 Hardening Stone, &c.—J. B. Hulard and L. G. Poupel, Paris. 
 Dated 25th November, 1861.—The composition which the patentees 
 prefer for their indurating liquid contains the following ingredients in 
 certain proportions:—Borax, white lead, sulphate of alumina, acetate 
 of lead, sulphate of zinc, silicate of soda or of potash, kaolin, linseed 
 oil, and water. 
 
 GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 Curious Roman Inscriptions on Mount Lebanon. —M. Ernest 
 Renan, in his third report to the Emperor of the results of his mission 
 to Phoenicia, gives the following account of certain inscriptions found 
 in the most inaccessible parts of Mount Lebanon:—“ The region of 
 the Upper Lebanon between Sannin and the Cedar defile, as well as 
 the middle region from Toula to Semar-Gebeil, presents one of the 
 most singular epigraphic problems, which has remained hitherto quite 
 unnoticed. I had constantly heard talk last winter, at Amschit, of 
 
 innumerable inscriptions engraved on the rocks in the upper part of 
 the mountain. I thought at first there was some mistake. It was, 
 however, quite true. Throughout the whole of the above-mentioned 
 region, but above all in the cantons of Akoura, Kartaba, and Tan- 
 nourin, you meet at every step almost with the same inscription, 
 repeated hundreds of times, in characters of thirty or forty centimetres 
 in length, deeply graven in the rocks. The fundamental parts of this 
 inscription are the following words, shortly and with contractions, 
 IMP erator HADrianus AUGustus. Then comes a series of 
 letters which vary, and of which the commonest form is agitcp. 
 These letters remained an enigma, until I discovered in the region of 
 Toula four examples of the scriptio plena corresponding to the 
 initials agitcp. In these four places, not far from the ordinary 
 formula imphadaug, you read in enormous letters upon the rocks— 
 arborum genera iv cetera privata. This was then, doubtless, 
 a regulation posted up in some way bj 7 order of Adrian in this region 
 of the Lebanon, once covered with trees, and by which a division was 
 made between timber reserved for the State and that which was 
 allowed to be felled by private people. # It must be confessed that the 
 places where these inscriptions are sometimes found go a little against 
 this hypothesis. Not only are the localities most often rugged, and 
 now completely bare, but in some instances it seems as if pleasure had 
 been taken in inscribing these notices in strange picturesque places, or 
 where the difficulties and dangers of the approach seemed to speak a 
 sort of defiance: as in the accessible summits of the Djebel-Mousa, 
 the wildest points of Lebanon; on the highest summits between 
 Akoura and Coelesyria, where the snow remains till the month of 
 June, and where only creeping shrubs grow; amongst the rocks above 
 Tartedj and Tannourin, where one might think that man had never 
 penetrated; in the grotto of Ayyoub, hollowed in the side of a pointed 
 rock, which you can only reach by the help of shrubs hanging over 
 the river Adonis. Could our inscriptions be in some cases mere cartes 
 de visite of the Imperial traveller, like that of the same Emperor 
 which we read on the colossus of Memnon in Egypt P The long 
 stays which Adrian, both before and after his elevation to the empire, 
 made in Syria are well known. It is known also with what curiosity 
 he visited celebrated shrines; doubtless, he would make a point of per¬ 
 forming a pilgrimage to Aphaca. However this may be, I have found 
 nearly one hundred of these curious inscriptions; a considerable number 
 more may have escaped me, and a much greater number must have 
 been destroyed, or thrown face downwards. These inscriptions are, in 
 fact, considered as marking deposits of treasure, and nearly all are, 
 more or less, fractured.”— Parthenon. 
 
 Shakespeare’s House.—Interesting Discovery. —Unexpected 
 discoveries of a very interesting character have been made in exca¬ 
 vating the site of Shakespeare’s New Place. Not only have the entire 
 foundations of the house, as altered by Sir Hugh Clopton early in the 
 last century, come to light, but portions of the basement of Shake¬ 
 speare’s own residence towards the east and south have been discovered, 
 the latter intersecting the more recent design. It seems that Shake¬ 
 speare’s house extended a few feet into the present Chapel-lane, at the 
 corner opposite the Guild Chapel, its frontage in Chapel-street being 
 about fifty-four feet, taking in a small part of what was lately Dr. 
 Rice’s residence. When Sir Hugh Clopton rebuilt New Place, he 
 diminished it a little on the north side, the adjoining house thus 
 gaining a small space, in the inside of which, as was discovered by 
 Mr. E. Gibbs, still remain distinct traces of the gable end of the old 
 New Place. We can thus attain a pretty tolerable idea of the dimen¬ 
 sions and form of the poet’s last residence. More interesting still, in 
 the opinion of many, will be Shakespeare’s original well, which has 
 been discovered, with its ancient stone quoining at the back of the 
 site of the house.— Athenaeum. 
 
 Tasmanian Stone. —This building stone has been extensively used 
 in the construction of the public edifices in Tasmania and other colo¬ 
 nies. J. E. Calder, Esq., one of the Commissioners appointed to 
 collect the products of Tasmania, has obtained a very valuable collec¬ 
 tion from numerous quarries; yet so abundant is this material that 
 this collection represents only a portion of the quarries now in work 
 there. A church font, worked in stone from Point Yentenat, illus¬ 
 trates in a striking manner the adaptability of this stone to this and 
 other purposes to which it had not previously been applied. Amongst 
 these latter may be mentioned some grindstones which are ex¬ 
 hibited, of great size and fine quality; and also other smaller ones, 
 said to be, eminently suitable for glass-cutting. Some of the marbles 
 which have hitherto been used only for the making of lime, and which 
 cover a considerable portion of Tasmania, have been discovered, when 
 
128 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 properly polished, to be eminently beautiful, and suitable for internal 
 decoration. 
 
 The Crystal Palace in a Night Storm. —Last Wednesday 
 se’nnight, says tlie South Eastern Gazette, we had an opportunity of 
 being inside the Crystal Palace during the violent thunderstorm that 
 visited the neighbourhood of Sydenham. The novelty of the sights 
 that presented themselves was striking and marvellous. In a moment, 
 from intense darkness, the whole building was lit up—every object 
 standing out as bright as in day in all the distinctness of the stereo¬ 
 scope, to which indeed it might be compared, with the additional asso¬ 
 ciation of grandeur in its fullest extent. At another time the western 
 end of the centre transept assumed the character of a brilliant luminous 
 mass, with a vividness that lightning only possesses—brighter far 
 than the sun. Then, again, the roofs were illuminated, all their beau¬ 
 tiful proportions exhibited, and their outlines distinct and dazzling, as 
 though studded with millions of diamonds. Turning to the southern 
 side we looked out upon the expanse that lay before us; here the scene 
 was magic in its character. From intense darkness, flitted, at rapid 
 intervals, every object, statue, fountain, tree, shrub, terrace, and the 
 distant country to Sevenoaks, in brilliancy that can scarcely be described 
 by language. We never before witnessed anything so peculiarly beau¬ 
 tiful and grand. 
 
 Wooden Churches.— Notes and Queries says :—Although the 
 interesting church of Little Greenstead, in Essex, is chiefly composed 
 of upright wooden blocks laid close together, yet it has (or had) brick 
 buttresses and a brick chancel. Newland Church, Worcestershire, two 
 miles from Malvern, on the Worcester-road, is one of the few wooden¬ 
 framed churches remaining in the country. The panelling between 
 the frame-work is lath and plaster, but here and there repaired with 
 brick. The little church is supposed to have been a grange belonging 
 to the Priory of Great Malvern, and resembles many of the half-tim¬ 
 bered houses in that neighbourhood—that at Pickersleigh, for ex¬ 
 ample. There is a wooden porch, a wooden bell-cot, and two-light 
 windows with wooden frames. It is supposed to have been erected 
 in the fifteenth century. (See Noakes’s “ Rambles in Worcestershire,” 
 iii. 7.) The font, however, is early Norman, and is thought to have 
 been brought from Malvern Abbey church. 
 
 Domestic Architecture in Singapore. —Within his own house, 
 Whampoa lives entirely in the European fashion. One of his proper¬ 
 ties, which is several miles in circumference, has a spacious, elegantly- 
 furnished mansion, with a splendid colonnade, a beautiful flower- 
 garden, and a perfect menagerie of useful domestic animals. Within 
 the house all the arrangements are European, with the exception of 
 the oval doors, communicating between the great saloon and the ante¬ 
 chambers, which are pushed into the wall on either side, and have a 
 very surprising effect. In the evening, especially when the saloon is 
 illuminated, if a person passes through this oval entrance, the effect is 
 as of a life-size portrait set in a golden frame. It would not be a bad 
 idea to introduce this Chinese form of doorway into our European re¬ 
 sidences and country seats ; and it is assuredly not the only improve¬ 
 ment in the decorative art which we could borrow with advantage from 
 the Chinese. Whampoa’s own favourite habitation is about four miles 
 outside the town, and presents a curious admixture of European com¬ 
 fort and taste with Chinese notions of ornament. In the saloons, 
 adorned with a quantity of neat fancy ornaments, are suspended from 
 the walls verses and proverbs of the most renowned Chinese poets, all 
 written on long, elegantly-illustrated rolls of paper.— Parthenon. 
 
 A Long-closed Theatre Reopened. —At the moment of the 
 destruction of Pompeii by an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, a.d. 79, a 
 theatrical representation was being given in the Amphitheatre. A 
 speculator, named Langini, taking advantage of that historical remini¬ 
 scence, has just constructed a theatre on the ruins of Pompeii; and 
 the opening of which new theatre he announces in the following 
 terms :—“ After a lapse of 1800 years, the theatre of the city will be 
 reopened with ‘ La Figlia del Reggimento.’ I solicit from the nobility 
 and gentry a continuance of the favour constantly bestowed on my 
 predecessor, Marcus Quintus Martius; and beg to assure them that I 
 shall make every effort to equal the rare qualities he displayed during 
 his management.” 
 
 M. Mariette’s Discoveries at Tanis. —The number of the Bevue 
 ArchSologique for May contains an interesting account of discoveries 
 made by M. Mariette in the mounds of San, the ancient Tanis, in 
 December last. Among the numerous monuments discovered are two co¬ 
 lossal figui’es of Amememha I., and his son Osortasen I., the first two 
 kings of the twelfth dynasty ; colossal figures of two kings of the 13th 
 
 dynasty, bearing their names, one of them previously unknown ; a co¬ 
 lossus of a king of one of the succeeding native Egyptian dynasties, 
 bearing his name and surname, and remarkable from having the name 
 of a well-known shepherd-king engraved upon the right shoulder, a 
 mark of conquest or appropriation. The city of Tanis was the seat 
 of the Shepherd dynasty, and the recent discoveries of M. Mariette have 
 brought to light various striking memorials of their power. Four 
 sphinxes, having a marked un-Egyptian physiognomy, had been pre¬ 
 viously found. To these is now added a group of two standing human 
 figures bearing offerings, and having the same singular features of un¬ 
 mistakable foreign type. These researches have thrown a great light 
 upon a hitherto obscure epoch of Egyptian history, and one which some 
 antiquarians have wished to sweep away altogether as never having 
 had existence. It is clear that the conquering Asiatic tribe adopted 
 to some extent the arts and language of those whom they conquered, 
 —a process of which there are many other examples in history, where 
 a powerful but uncultivated race has overrun a feeble country pos¬ 
 sessing an advanced standard of cultivation. The same number of 
 the Bevue contains a continuation of the report made by M. Renan of 
 the results of his mission to Phoenicia, and relating principally to the 
 locality of Aradus, where the explorations have yielded most important 
 results. 
 
 Architecture —that art which literally comes home to every one, 
 and of all the Fine Arts is the most directly practical—by a singular 
 fate, is probably less a subject of popular thought and care than any 
 other. Most persons have a certain interest in pictures: even if not 
 much versed in painting, they contend for the right to please them¬ 
 selves. But when a building is in question, we hear with alacrity the 
 reply, “ 1 Jcnoio nothing of architecture.” A brief sketch of the 
 elements which compose the modern schools would at once sup¬ 
 ply the main facts of the history, and explain the causes of an in¬ 
 difference so fatal to the progress of the art. This story must begin 
 far back, for in Architecture, from its essential nature and from the 
 similarity of the wants which it provides for, practical experience has 
 been the source of the changes generally made, and established types 
 have always held a strong hand over free imagination. Nothing is 
 more curious than to watch the slow steps by which men learned the 
 simplest expedients, and the persistency of a few forms through every 
 age between Nebuchadnezzar and the Nineteenth century. We are 
 indebted here, as for the elements of almost all human knowledge, to 
 ancient Greece. The Greek style was itself, indeed, founded on the 
 earlier practice of Assyria and Egypt, but it was only by the reduction 
 of African or Asiatic architecture to European ideas and climate in 
 Greece, Italy, and Sicily, that it was able to influence later races. The 
 mode by tvhich spaces are covered is the simplest rule under which 
 styles can be classed, as on this ultimately depends the greatest portion 
 of those ornamental features which render Architecture a fine art, as 
 distinguished from Building.— Palgrave. 
 
 NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 In the execution of the Plates which form our Illustra¬ 
 tions, we hope always to have the advantage of the 
 designs of the Architects whose buildings we represent. 
 We also invite those gentlemen, in every instance, to 
 communicate both with our artists and ourselves during 
 the progress of our drawings, and we shall always be 
 anxious to secure their approval for every illustration on 
 its completion. 
 
 The lithographs contained in the present Part have all 
 been executed from photographs. Their accuracy may 
 be depended on, and they will doubtless be preserved 
 and valued as faithful pictures of an interesting public 
 monument, and a chaste example of the street architecture 
 of London in the Victorian age. 
 
 All communications for the Editor to be addressed to 
 the care of Darton and Hodgk, Publishers, Holborn- 
 hill, E.C. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 129 
 
 INIGO JONES AND HIS WORKS. 
 
 T has been well said that to write a good 
 life is almost as difficult as to live one. 
 The cause of this difficulty is twofold. 
 First and foremost the scarcity of good 
 biographers, and secondly, the scanti¬ 
 ness of the material necessary to the 
 composition of an entertaining and in¬ 
 structive biography. In the great ma¬ 
 jority of instances the biographer is placed in the same 
 deplorable position as Canning’s “ Weary Knife-grinder” 
 —he has “ no story to tellor if he has, it is a thou¬ 
 sand to one that it is of such an insipid character as to 
 have no manner of attraction for the popular palate. Still 
 something is expected from the unfortunate wight who 
 undertakes the narration of the life and achievements of 
 a distinguished man; and though he may have nothing 
 new to tell, though all that is really worth relating be as 
 well known to the enlightened public as to himself, the 
 biographer is expected, under the awful penalty of an 
 unsold edition, to communicate something both novel 
 and interesting respecting the hero of his story. The 
 life-writer is thus placed in the same cruel situation as 
 the enslaved Israelites who were compelled to produce the 
 ordained tale of bricks without the requisite straw. 
 
 Of the inner or even the domestic life of our greatest 
 men little or nothing is known. Yet this phase of their 
 being is that which has most value for the biographer, 
 and most fascination for the general reader. It thus 
 happens that in order to eke out his materials to the pre¬ 
 scribed dimensions, and in order to tell the eager public 
 something which it did not know before, a lot of utterly 
 irrelevant matter—the “ bald disjointed chat” of contem¬ 
 porary ignorance, or the tame and tasteless effusions of 
 respectable but ponderous correspondents, have to be in¬ 
 troduced, and fastened upon the back of the departed 
 victim of biographical exigency. 
 
 These too obvious truths have been suggested to us by 
 the perusal of the various extant accounts of the life and 
 works of the celebrated English architect, Inigo Jones. 
 Somebody has said that happy is the nation that has no 
 history. Though seemingly paradoxical, it is equally true, 
 that happy is the man who has no life to be written. 
 Mankind are constantly complaining of the disappoint¬ 
 ments, sufferings, sorrows, crimes, and tragedies incident to 
 man’s earthly existence. Yet nothing is more evident than 
 that without sorrow and suffering, and tragedy and crime, 
 no history, novel, romance, or play that would be read, 
 or which is more important, that would be bought and 
 paid for, could be written. The life of a uniformly and 
 invariably prosperous man would be intolerably insipid. 
 Dr. Johnson, we know, became tired and disgusted with 
 the everlasting green fields which he encountered in the 
 country. Six months, or even six weeks’ sight of nothing 
 but the ocean—one of the most majestic objects in the 
 material universe—is enough to give a longing for land to 
 the most inveterate and voracious lover of salt water in 
 existence. Even the very stars, from the unbroken regu- 
 5 
 
 larity of their movements and appearance, do not, on the 
 minds of the masses of mankind, produce an impression 
 commensurate with the sublimity of their presence. Hence 
 the fine observation of Emerson: “ If the stars should 
 appear but one night in a thousand years, how would men 
 believe and adore, and preserve for many generations the 
 remembrance of the City of God which had been shown !” 
 It is with the life of man as with the scenery of the ma¬ 
 terial world : in order to be interesting, it must present 
 alternations of view. 
 
 Fortunately for the biographers of Inigo Jones, that 
 eminent British architect had both successes and misfor¬ 
 tunes. Like every man worth commemorating, he had 
 difficulties to surmount, battles to fight, powerful and 
 pitiless foes to contend with. But we must not an¬ 
 ticipate.' 
 
 Inigo Jones, the subject of this brief notice, was born 
 in the city of London, in the neighbourhood of St. Paul’s 
 Cathedral, in the year 1572. Neither the day nor the 
 mouth of his birth is known; nor is there anything known 
 of his mother or her family. His father was a citizen 
 of London, a clothworker by trade, and a Roman Catholic 
 by religion. He is said to have been wealthy ; but of this 
 there is some doubt. He is also said to have been a highly 
 respectable man, and this we have no reason to doubt ; 
 for if anything could have been alleged against his cha¬ 
 racter, as the sequel will show, the powerful and unscru¬ 
 pulous enemy who libelled and lampooned his son would 
 in all probability have mentioned it. Of the early edu¬ 
 cation of the future architect, nothing certain is known. 
 According to some accounts, it was liberal; according to 
 others, it was quite the reverse. That the latter is the 
 true account, it is reasonable to believe, from the fact of 
 his having at an early age been apprenticed to a joiner. 
 Ben Jonson, who had himself been a bricklayer and had 
 handled the trowel, if not carried the hod, had the mean¬ 
 ness to reproach Jones for having in his boyish days 
 touched the handsaw and the plane. At a very early age 
 Inigo Jones evinced considerable ability in the arts of 
 design and landscape painting!! By his talent in these 
 accomplishments he, it is presumed, gained the notice and 
 the patronage of William Earl of Pembroke, whose libe¬ 
 rality, it is reasonable to infer, helped to enable the young 
 aspirant to artistic eminence to travel through France, 
 Germany, and Italy, in order to study the most remark¬ 
 able architectural monuments of these countries. Of 
 young Jones’s patron, this same William Earl of Pem¬ 
 broke, a few words may be here introduced. This true 
 nobleman, whose patent of nobility was derived from 
 heaven, is one of the most pleasing characters in English' 
 history. The vocabulary of eulogy has been exhausted in 
 describing his brilliant and manifold merits. He was 
 witty and learned, gallant and true, refined and high- 
 minded. “ He was neither subservient to Elizabeth, who 
 was partial to him, nor to James, who stood in awe of him. 
 He was liked by the courtiers because he asked for 
 nothing, and admired by the public because he was in¬ 
 debted to the Court for nothing. He stood a superior 
 being among the buffoons and sycophants of the Court of 
 
 s 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 130 
 
 James; among them, but not of them. He was loyal to 
 his king, he loved his country, defended its institutions; 
 he lived magnificently, without impoverishing his heir; 
 and possessed genius himself, and distinguished it in 
 others. In a word, he was the patron of Shakspeare and 
 of Inigo Jones. It is now, we believe, pretty generally 
 admitted that he was the W. II. (William Herbert) to 
 whom the sonnets of Shakspeare were inscribed as the 
 only begetter of them.* The only flaw in his otherwise 
 perfect character was that he was too much the votary of 
 pleasure, too ardent in his admiration of fair women, for 
 whom he sacrificed too much both of his fortune and his 
 time. At the council-table of James the Earl’s conduct 
 was manly in the extreme. He never hesitated to oppose 
 any measure which he deemed injudicious or immoral, 
 however much the monarch’s heart might be set upon its 
 adoption. His opposition to the proposed marriage of 
 the Prince of Wales (afterwards Charles I.) was so fierce 
 and determined, that the King is said to have been 
 actually terrified at his vehemence. Nevertheless, the 
 King had sense enough to value the fidelity and open 
 dealing of this nobleman, though, as Lord Clarendon 
 says, “ he rather esteemed Pembroke than loved him.” A 
 curious anecdote, which is highly characteristic of the King 
 and of the manners of those days, is related of the Earl. 
 Pembroke is said to have entertained a singular antipathy 
 to frogs. James, aware of this dislike, and delighting to 
 a childish degree in any practical joke, once took an 
 opportunity of thrusting one of these creatures down the 
 Earl’s neck. Pembroke revenged himself in a manner 
 which would not have been ventured upon by any other 
 nobleman about the Court. Janies, as is well known, had 
 an invincible abhorrence of a pig. One of these animals 
 was therefore procured by Pembroke’s orders, and placed 
 under the bed in the King’s apartment. His majesty was 
 excessively annoyed when the pig, in the truly piggish 
 fashion, made its presence known; and what added to the 
 royal displeasure, was that the joke was played in the 
 Earl’s own house at Wilton, where the King was a guest. 
 However, James, who was no fool, knew that those who 
 play at bowls ought to be prepared for rubbers, and he 
 therefore deemed it prudent not to resent the affront. 
 William Earl of Pembroke was born in 1580; he was 
 thus eight years younger than his protege Inigo Jones. 
 He died in his fiftieth year; and it is singular that two 
 persons (one the Earl’s own tutor, Sandford, the other the 
 mad prophetess, Lady Davies), foretold that Pembroke 
 would either not complete or else die on the anniversary 
 of his fiftieth year. This prediction was most remarkably 
 fulfilled; for William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, died on 
 the birthday which had completed his fiftieth year. Such 
 is a brief outline of the life of the nobleman by whose 
 liberality Inigo is believed to have been enabled to com¬ 
 plete his education. It is instructive to find that Philip 
 Earl of Pembroke, the brother and successor of William, 
 and his exact opposite in all good qualities, was the bitter 
 enemy and calumniator of Inigo Jones. 
 
 From Italy, where he had spent some years, Jones was 
 
 * Jesse’s “ Court of England during the Iteign of the Stuarts,” yol. i. 
 
 invited to Denmark by Christian IV., for whom it is said 
 he designed the royal chateau of Fredericksborg, and also 
 the palace of Rosenberg. But this also, like almost every¬ 
 thing else appertaining to Inigo Jones, is doubted; and it 
 is only fair to admit tliat if it could be conclusively shown 
 that he had nothing to do with the construction or de¬ 
 sign of these royal dwellings, his reputation as an architect 
 would not have sustained the slightest injury from the 
 circumstance. In a worldly point of view, however, there 
 can be no doubt that the young Englishman’s connexion 
 with the “Majesty of Denmark” was highly beneficial to 
 him. Christian IV., who was what is vulgarly but gra¬ 
 phically termed a “jolly toper,” was a good-natured fel¬ 
 low, and he recommended Inigo Jones to the favour of his 
 royal sister Anne, the Queen Consort of Great Britain, 
 and the wife of that pedantic and comical monarch James I. 
 of England and VI. of Scotland. 
 
 Inigo Jones’ principal occupation at the English Court 
 was in devising the machinery and decorations of the 
 masques and theatrical pageants then in vogue. In the 
 getting-up of these fashionable amusements he was asso¬ 
 ciated with Ben Jonson, to whom was entrusted the exe¬ 
 cution of the literary department of these Court enter¬ 
 tainments. For a time the poet and the architect agreed 
 tolerably well; but Jones being arrogant and Jonson 
 irritable, they speedily quarrelled, and from the quarrel 
 a bitter and life-long feud ensued. In this celebrated 
 quarrel it is now impossible to determine who was chiefly 
 to blame. In all probability the fault was pretty evenly 
 divided between the two. But of one thing there can be 
 no doubt, and that is, that “rare Ben Jonson” carried 
 his animosity towards Jones to an unjustifiable length. 
 The personal appearance, the intellectual attainments, the 
 antecedents, the assumed obscurity of origin, the common 
 forms of expression, the professional capacity, and even 
 the very name of Inigo J ones, were all noted, depreciated, 
 caricatured, ridiculed, and sneered at in a style and spirit 
 of the most malignant hostility by the irritable and im¬ 
 placable poet. In this matter, Jonson, as is invariably 
 the case with those who give full swing to their rage, 
 greatly overshot his mark. His ferocious and persistent 
 attacks upon Jones provoked a sympathy in the architect’s 
 favour, and drew a remonstrance and a rebuke from the 
 very highest quarter. Howell, a courtier, generally be¬ 
 lieved to have been moved thereto by the King himself, 
 wrote to Ben, saying: “ I heard you censured lately at 
 Court that you have lighted too foul upon Sir Inigo, and 
 that you write with a porcupine’s quill dipt in too much 
 gall. Excuse me that I am so free with you—it is be¬ 
 cause I am in no common way of friendship yours.” This 
 letter having failed in effect, Howell again wrote: “ If 
 your spirit will not let you retract, yet you shall do well 
 to repress any more copies of the satire on the royal 
 architect; for, to deal plainly with you, you have lost 
 some ground at Court by it; and as I hear from a good 
 hand, the King, who hath so great a judgment in poetry 
 as in all other things else, is not well pleased therewith. 
 Dispense with this.” This remonstrance, it is believed, 
 had the effect of inducing Jonson to recall and destroy, as 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 131 
 
 he imagined, every copy of this particular satire; for at 
 Jorison’s death, which happened soon after, not a line of 
 it was found amongst his papers. One, however, escaped, 
 or was concealed; it was sent to the press, and thus the 
 proof of a squabble, which raised neither the character of 
 the poet nor of the architect, has descended to posterity. 
 
 But our architect, notwithstanding his feuds with Jon- 
 son and the severe strictures of the latter on the construc¬ 
 tion and scenic tricks of the masques, continued to furnish 
 the Court with these inventions, and with undiminished 
 acceptance, down to 1640. Of his employment and in¬ 
 ventions in these amusements he seems to have been 
 proud. He preserved all the designs of the masques in a 
 folio volume, which came into the possession of Lord 
 Burlington. He drew with uncommon neatness and deli¬ 
 cacy—his hand obeyed his eye and his taste, and impressed 
 on all he touched the stamp of elegance. In the Lans- 
 downe manuscripts are preserved “ original ground plots 
 and profiles of scenes erected at the New Masquing House, 
 being eight in number, by Inigo Jones.” 
 
 Jones had been appointed architect to the Queen and 
 Prince Henry; but the Prince having died in 1612, Inigo’s 
 income suffered. About this time he is supposed to have 
 paid his second visit to Italy, where he resided, chiefly in 
 Venice, for about a couple of years. To his second resi¬ 
 dence in this classic land is manifestly traceable the great 
 improvement in the unity and elegance of his buildings, 
 and his rejection of the heavy and grotesque style to which 
 previously he was addicted. 
 
 In 1620 the King ordered him to write a work proving 
 that the Stonehenge antiquities were the works of the 
 Romans ! Jones, whose ideas were little else but Roman, 
 may have convinced himself of the truth of this theory, 
 but it has not been ascertained that he was successful in 
 making a single additional convert to this preposterous 
 hypothesis, excepting of course the herd of servile cour¬ 
 tiers, who, if the King had so willed it, would have taken 
 a solemn oath that the mystic circles of Salisbury Plain 
 were built by spiders for the weaving of their webs—not 
 by the Druids for the celebration of their rites. About 
 the same time at which he was engaged in the composi¬ 
 tion of this work in support of the Royal and ridiculous 
 theory, Inigo Jones was also engaged in building the 
 Banqueting House at Whitehall. This masterpiece of 
 Jones was meant only as a pavilion to a magnificent palace 
 intended to be erected, and of which we have a splendid 
 design from Inigo’s ideas. This Banqueting House still 
 exists, and is the best evidence we have of the pure and 
 elegant taste for which Jones was distinguished. 
 
 In the same year, 1620, he was appointed one of the 
 Commissioners for the repair of old St. Paul’s; but not 
 until thirteen years after was the work of reparation begun. 
 “ In the restoration of that cathedral,” says Walpole, 
 “ he made two faults. He first renewed the sides with 
 very bad Gothic, and then added a Roman portico, mag¬ 
 nificent and beautiful indeed, but which had no affinity 
 with the ancient parts that remained, and made his own 
 Gothic appear ten times heavier. He committed the 
 same error at Winchester, thrusting a screen, in the 
 
 Roman or Grecian taste, into the middle of that cathedral. 
 Jones indeed,” continues Walpole, “was by no means 
 successful when he attempted the Gothic.” 
 
 In 1623 he was employed at Somerset House, where a 
 chapel was fitted up for the Infanta of Spain, the intended 
 bride of the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles I. The 
 front to the river, part only of what was designed, and 
 the water gate, were erected afterwards according to the 
 designs of Inigo, as was also the gate at York Stairs. 
 All these were removed to make room for the present 
 beautiful structure known as Somerset House. 
 
 On the accession of Charles I., Jones was continued in 
 his post under both king and queen. His fee as surveyor 
 was 8^. 4 d. a-day, with an allowance of 46/. a-year for 
 house-rent, besides a clerk and incidental expenses. What 
 other rewards he had are not upon record. During the 
 prosperous state of the King’s affairs it fared well with 
 J ones ; but he very speedily partook of the misfoi’tunes of 
 his Royal master. Inigo Jones was not only a Court 
 favourite and a royalist, but also a Roman Catholic. It 
 is therefore not surprising that, to the fanatical Puritans 
 and republicans of the Commonwealth and the Protecto¬ 
 rate, he should be highly obnoxious. He became a 
 marked man, and the especial target for the malice of the 
 small minds who know no other mode of proving their 
 fidelity to their own party than by the misrepresentation 
 and persecution of the most distinguished and meritorious 
 votaries of the opposing side. The first attack made upon 
 Inigo Jones was in 1640, when he was called before the 
 House of Lords on a complaint of the parishioners of St. 
 Gregory’s for demolishing part of their church in order to 
 make room for his additions to St. Paul’s. In 1646 he 
 was obliged to pay the sum of 546/. by way of compositiou 
 as a “ malignant.” The death of Charles greatly affected 
 J ones, and he died at Somerset House, worn down with 
 grief and misfortune, in, according to some accounts, 
 July, 1651, or according to others, in 1653. 
 
 Horace Walpole has given a catalogue of the priucipal 
 buildings erected and decorated by this architect. After 
 the Banqueting House, Walbrook Church was one of his 
 best works. Another, which had been greatly admired, 
 was the arcade of Covent Garden and its church ; of these 
 two structures, Walpole declares that for himself he 
 “ wants the taste to see their beauties. In the arcade 
 there is nothing remarkable, the pilasters are as arrant 
 and homely stripes as any plasterer would make. The 
 barn roof over the portico of the church strikes my eyes 
 with as little idea of dignity and beauty as it could do if 
 it covered nothing but a barn. It must be owned that 
 the defect is not in the architect, but in the order. Who 
 ever saw a beautiful Tuscan building ? Would the 
 Romans have chosen that order for a temple ?” 
 
 Amesbury, in Wiltshire, was designed by Jones, but 
 executed by his pupil Webb. Jones was one of the first 
 that observed the same diminution of pilasters as in 
 pillars. Lindesay House, in Lincoln’s-inn-fields, which 
 he built, owes its chief grace to this singularity. In 1618 
 a special Commission was issued to the Lord Chancellor, 
 the Earls of Worcester, Pembroke, Arundel, and others, 
 
 s 2 
 
132 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 “ to plant and reduce to uniformity Lincoln’s-inn-fields, 
 as it shall be drawn by way of a map or ground plot by 
 Inigo Jones, surveyor-general of the works.” This square 
 of land was laid out so as to be of the exact dimensions 
 of one of the pyramids. This conceit would have been in 
 perfect keeping with the fantastic tastes of those ages 
 when the keep of Kenilworth Castle was erected in the 
 form of a horse fetter, and the royal palace of the Escurial 
 in the shape of St. Laurence’s Gridiron. 
 
 Coleshill, in Berkshire, the seat of Sir Mathew Pleydell, 
 built in 1650, and Cobham Hall, were Jones’s. He was 
 employed to rebuild Castle Ashby, and finished one front, 
 but the civil war interrupted his progress there, as it did 
 also at Stoke Park, in Northamptonshire. Shaftesbury 
 House, now the London Lying-inHospital, has a beautiful 
 front by Jones. The Grange, in Hampshire, is entirely 
 by this master. The great gate of Beaufort Garden, 
 Chelsea, designed by Jones, was purchased by Lord 
 Burlington, and by him transferred to Chiswick. He 
 drew a plan for a palace at Newmarket, but not the 
 wretched one that stands there at present. One of the 
 most beautiful of his works is the Queen’s House, at 
 Greenwich. The first idea of the hospital is said to have 
 been taken from his papers by his pupil Webb. More 
 buildings in England might have been added, but some 
 are doubtful, some have disappeared, and others merit 
 no particular notice. In Scotland, Ileriot’s Hospital, 
 Edinburgh, Glamir Castle, in Forfarshire, and Drum- 
 lanrig House, Nithsdale, are said to be by Inigo Jones, 
 but none of these are included in the collection of 
 designs published by Kent or Ware. 
 
 Inigo Jones may be regarded as the representative and 
 accomplisher of the transition from the Tudor, to that clas¬ 
 sical style of architecture which culminated in Sir Chris¬ 
 topher Wren. As a Gothic architect he was simply 
 detestable. “King James’s Gothic, and Inigo’s designs 
 of that period,” observes Walpole, “are not Gothic, but 
 have a littleness of parts and a weight of ornaments, with 
 which the revival of the Grecian taste was encumbered, 
 and which he shook off in his grander designs.” 
 
 Jones was a profound admirer of Palladio, the cele¬ 
 brated Venetian architect. He was himself called the 
 English Palladio. A copy of this artist’s “Architec¬ 
 ture,” with manuscript notes by Jones, is in the library 
 of Worcester College, Oxford. 
 
 Of the personal appearance of Inigo Jones not much 
 is known, and still less is known of his domestic manners. 
 The portraits by Vandyke, the finest that have proceeded 
 from the pencil of that artist, are almost all that we 
 have to give us an idea of the “outer man” of this 
 distinguished architect. That he was fond of distinction, 
 and even vain of the countenance of the Court and 
 the notice of the great, there is reason to believe; but 
 this is a weakness which he shared in common with some 
 of the most eminent men that ever lived. He was also 
 remarkable for stateliness of demeanour, splendour of 
 dress, and a free and generous mode of living. His 
 doublet of velvet and his embroidered cap became him 
 well; neither do we see much to censure in the airs which 
 
 he affected in the management of the masques, so well 
 described by Jonson. “ Rare Ben,” also, in one of his 
 attacks, reproaches Jones with having a narrow forehead, 
 and just as we learn from Sir John Falstaff’s indignant 
 denunciation of Master Dumbleton the haberdasher, who 
 would not take the security of poor Bardolph for the price 
 of the satin necessary to make the fat knight a short 
 cloak, that “ yea, forsooth,” was a common mode of ex¬ 
 pression with the London tradesmen of three hundred 
 years ago, we in the same manner learn from Ben Jonson’s 
 bitter attacks upon Inigo Jones that “ feasible” and 
 “ conduce” were among the commonest words used by 
 that architect. 
 
 “ He’ll do’t alone, sir, in-and-in, 
 
 Draws with no other in’s project, he will tell you. 
 
 It cannot else be ‘feasible or ‘ conduce.’ 
 
 Those are his ruling words.” 
 
 That Jones endeavoured to meet the difference of our 
 climate and the demands of modern society is sufficiently 
 visible in the works which are still in existence, and much 
 more so in the designs which he left on paper. In number 
 these amount to some six or eight and twenty, and in 
 them the genius and knowledge of the artist unite in full 
 strength, and exhibit the elevations and details of all sorts 
 and manners of dwellings, from a farm-house to a palace. 
 
 That he was a stout-hearted and courageous man, we 
 know from the fortitude and dignity with which he sus¬ 
 tained the cruel persecutions to which he was exposed 
 by the bigoted Puritans and servile Parliament of the 
 Commonwealth times. He lived to be well nigh eighty 
 years of age, and was the contemporary, to a great extent 
 the companion, of Sliakspeare, Bacon, Jonson, Raleigh, 
 Milton, and other stars of the first magnitude, now form¬ 
 ing the most brilliant constellation of lights in the firma¬ 
 ment of intellect. 
 
 THE PROPOSED MONUMENT TO THE MEMORY \ / 
 OF IIIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE f. 
 CONSORT. 
 
 We have one consolation to suggest in the issue of the 
 deliberations of the Committee appointed by Her Majesty 
 to select a monument to the memory of her departed hus¬ 
 band—it may indeed be but a poor one, yet we may be 
 thankful even for this—namely, that it occasions no dis¬ 
 appointment. No expectations could have been enter¬ 
 tained by any reasonable person in this case of a deviation 
 from the universal rule of failure in the attempt to dis¬ 
 cover an appropriate monumental memorial for England’s 
 illustrious dead. This is abundantly manifest from the 
 progress and result of the subscription, which is so far 
 from being an expression of the national feeling, that after 
 the most strenuous efforts, after a wide distribution of 
 begging-letters conceived in the worst taste, the total 4 
 amount realized is but a small and comparatively insig- i 
 
 nificant fund. If we analyse the subscription list so 
 pompously and repeatedly advertised, we find the bulk of 
 the fund subscribed by employes or expectants of office, 
 who could not decently withhold their contributions; by j 
 
 persons who evidently seek and obtain their reward in ! 
 
 i 
 
 » 
 
 ♦ 
 
 r 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 133 
 
 the notoriety of newspaper columns ; or sycophants who 
 aim at commending themselves to the favourable notice 
 of the Queen or her family. Had it been otherwise, had 
 the public reposed any confidence in the Committee, or 
 any hope of a favourable result, it is obvious that a very 
 large sum indeed would have been subscribed. Perhaps 
 no sentiment ever in this, or any preceding age so univer¬ 
 sally pervaded a nation as the gi’ief for the premature 
 loss of the Consort of Queen Victoria. The hearts of 
 every one of her subjects pulsated in unison, every class, 
 every family, every individual sympathized with their re¬ 
 vered Queen. The Prince Consort was endeared to 
 Englishmen all over the world by qualities most readily 
 understood and most highly appreciated by us, and, more¬ 
 over, susceptible of being characterized intelligibly in a 
 few words :—A man of the most exalted rank, who 
 
 NEVER FAILED IN HIS DEVOTION TO AND PERFORMANCE OF 
 
 his duty. And although not unfortunately indispensable 
 as an accompaniment to win public esteem, yet still 
 greatly enhancing his value in the minds of the better 
 sort of Englishmen, the Prince had led the most ex¬ 
 emplary social, moral, and religious life. Under such 
 circumstances, at a time of profound peace, in the enjoy¬ 
 ment of the most prodigious and unparalleled wealth, it 
 might have been supposed that a spontaneous offering 
 would have been made sufficient to produce the greatest 
 work of art in the world. There was no lack of desire 
 to do the departed favourite of the nation this honour, a 
 desire which finds expression in numberless local subscrip¬ 
 tions for statues or institutions, and only withholds sup¬ 
 port from the proposed great metropolitan monument. 
 We have not far to look for the reasons of this; they are 
 obvious enough. In every open space in and around the 
 metropolis stand statues and monuments so hideous and 
 inappropriate, as to make every spectator possessed of a 
 grain of taste avert his eyes with a shudder of disgust. 
 They are the works of committees unqualified for the task 
 they assumed. What hope could be entertained of a new 
 committee ? what expectation that a design should be 
 selected and the funds applied in any sort to afford satis¬ 
 faction? If any one should question the judgment or 
 common sense of the British public, here is the answer. 
 They have not in this instance been imposed upon ! No 
 one can deny the talent and estimable character of the 
 individuals composing this committee. It was their cor¬ 
 porate character which foreshadowed and ensured their 
 failure. The fitness of such a committee for the work 
 entrusted to it we deny—the public by its unmistakeable 
 reticence emphatically denies. The Report they have 
 issued amply justifies the general apprehension. First 
 they are engaged in the hopeless extravagance of rivalling 
 the obelisks of Egypt by finding a huge monolith. This 
 brilliant idea, suggested by the Times newspaper in bitter 
 irony, to insinuate an utter privation of a sense of beauty, 
 power of invention, originality, and every aesthetic ele¬ 
 ment in the country, was adopted as if it were something 
 grand and noble, and only abandoned on the miserable 
 plea of its costliness, not its inherent absurdity. Next, 
 they enter on the trackless ocean of discussion, and their 
 
 problem seems to have been to reconcile the incongruous 
 crotchets of the several members. We may realize and 
 hear the opinions expressed in the resulting report. If a 
 commission had been entrusted to Sir Charles Eastlake to 
 erect a monument or paint a picture, we should have had 
 no fear of the results; if to an architect of skill, thought, 
 and judgment, we might have been safe; if to one of many 
 British sculptors, a tolerable statue might have issued. 
 The incompatible tastes and jarring opinions of men meet¬ 
 ing round a committee board have ever been, perhaps ever 
 will be, a sure presage and efficient cause of failure. 
 
 In the conclusion actually arrived at, there is however 
 in this case something worse than failure. The Com¬ 
 mittee have not only palpably broken faith with the public 
 in general and the subscribers in particular, but they have 
 blunderingly made it appear that our gracious Queen has 
 been a party to this breach of faith. In the letter ap¬ 
 pointing the Committee, written in the name of the 
 Queen, it was distinctly stated that the subscriptions were 
 asked, not for an institution, or building, but for a monu¬ 
 ment to be placed on the site of the Great International 
 Exhibition of 1851, noble and striking by its magni¬ 
 tude, and adorned with sculptures to commemorate the 
 incidents of the Prince’s life. Such was the expressed 
 Irish and command of Her Majesty. And how has this 
 been regarded ? The wish itself was said to be in con¬ 
 formity with the ideas often expressed by the Prince in 
 his lifetime. It evidenced at once good taste and correct 
 judgment. No spot in, or near the Metropolis is so suited 
 for the site of a monumental memorial. Seen from the 
 Parks, in a space allowing for a concourse of any number 
 of spectators, meeting the eyes of thousands who daily 
 resort there for recreation, a noble and majestic pile situ¬ 
 ated there would have effected all the purposes of such a 
 testimonial of national respect. Whether the form were 
 that of an obelisk, or a pyramid, it would have been at 
 once appropriate and enduring. The former was the form 
 spoken of, and apart from the vulgar crotchet of making 
 it consist of a single stone, it might have been “ adorned 
 with sculptures,” making the memory of the life and 
 actions of the Prince coeval with the existence of the 
 nation. Instead of this, we are to have the most inap¬ 
 propriate and bald production which the wit of man can 
 conceive—a hall for the meetings of scientific men in one 
 place, a statue in another ! Why a hall for such a purpose ? 
 Was the departed Prince merely a man of science ? Was 
 he not also a patron of painting, of agriculture, of lite¬ 
 rature, of schemes of benevolence? Was he not also a 
 statesman ? Do men of science need a shelter for their 
 heads, a place of meeting? And if they do need a hall 
 to meet in, why employ the funds raised under the pre¬ 
 tence of erecting a monument to such a purpose ? The 
 press has unanimously declared against this weak and 
 foolish scheme. We do not agree with our contempo¬ 
 raries in believing that it is a job. We give credit to the 
 Committee for better feelings than to make a job out of 
 the solemn duty entrusted to them. But we should like 
 to hear the answer that can be given to the remark, that 
 near the spot where it is proposed to erect this “ hall,” 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 134 
 
 numberless balls will in a few months be available for the 
 purpose, when the Exhibition building is evacuated. 
 
 We cannot afford space to repeat, or even to enumerate, 
 all the objections which have been urged against this pro¬ 
 ject ; it must suffice to say, they seem to us to be insu¬ 
 perable and unanswerable. We sincerely trust the good 
 sense and justice of Her Majesty will yet interfere to 
 prevent the perpetration of this sad blunder, and to keep 
 faith with the subscribers to the fund. We believe that 
 were this done, and a judicious plan enunciated, any 
 amount of money required would be forthcoming. 
 
 An apologist for the Committee has thrown out an in¬ 
 genious suggestion—namely, that the proposed building 
 will be made to conceal a very unsightly portion of the 
 Exhibition building. This very praiseworthy object 
 might be advantageously extended over many parts of 
 London. If erections successfully shutting out from 
 public view all the ugly projections of public buildings, 
 monuments, &c., were made to connect themselves with 
 the memory of the Prince, there would be little fear of 
 his ever being forgotten. We do not recommend this, 
 but it is the only tenable argument for the building of a 
 central hall of science. 
 
 Perhaps the public mind rather inclines to some noble 
 institution for a benevolent purpose as the fittest memorial 
 of the Prince. There is much to be said in favour of 
 such a project. It would, however, be difficult to select 
 one from the vast number of objects having claims to be 
 chosen. A mere wing, or new ward to a hospital, a mere 
 complimental, or supplemental addition to any asylum, 
 school, or college would, we think, be quite inadequate 
 when a national sentiment has to be embodied. Such a 
 commemorative offering befits a private person or less 
 exalted public character, not one so honoured as the 
 Prince Consort. If anything, it must be a substantive 
 institution of magnitude. Funds would not be found 
 wanting were such a design entertained. But upon the 
 whole we consider Her Majesty’s own suggestion by far 
 the best; and we would add that no better method of 
 realizing it has met our eye than one described in a small 
 anonymous pamphlet, published by Messrs. Darton and 
 Hodge, of Ilolborn Hill, and briefly noticed in the second 
 number of this Journal. 
 
 ON THE RECENTLY-ERECTED BRIDGES OF 
 WESTERN EUROPE. 
 
 BY S. J. BURNELL, ESQ. 
 
 The sudden development of the railway system subsequent 
 to the year 1830 has tended, perhaps more than any other 
 circumstance, to confirm the separation of the artistical, 
 and of the scientific, branches of the architectural profes¬ 
 sion ; or, in other words, to establish the recent distinc¬ 
 tion between the pursuits of the architect, and of the 
 civil engineer. At the same time it is to be observed that 
 the requirements of this new mode of locomotion have so 
 stimulated the energies of the men employed to apply it, 
 that new materials have been introduced, and old ones 
 
 employed in manners so new, that the artistic effect of the 
 constructions required has been strangely modified in 
 every instance wherein the character of the building ma¬ 
 terials employed has been allowed to produce its natural 
 effect. It is possible that to some extent the very igno¬ 
 rance of the civil engineers of all traditions of art-teaching 
 may have saved them from the influence of conventional¬ 
 isms, and thus have removed from them the temptation to 
 imitate in iron forms of art adapted exclusively to stone 
 or wood. At any rate, there has been a very marked 
 change of late years in the “ style ” of bridge-building ; 
 and in those cases 'wherein the mode of construction 
 adopted has compelled engineers to resort to the materials 
 placed at their disposal by modern science, they have 
 forcedly given to the structures themselves forms and out¬ 
 lines which cannot be brought under the ordinary rules 
 of architectural design. The species of originality thus 
 displayed has not, unfortunately, been accompanied by any 
 knowledge of the laws of proportion, harmony, or per¬ 
 spective ; optical effects do not seem to have been taken 
 into account, and elegance of form has been treated rather 
 as a thing to be avoided than as a quality to be desired. 
 In fact, the great social revolution produced by the rail¬ 
 way system has hitherto only thrown the previously- 
 received canons of taste into disfavour, without eliminating 
 any sesthetical theory of its own; and, in the practice of 
 bridge-building especially, the deficiency of our engineers 
 of everything like a feeling for ideal beauty is painfully 
 apparent, to the educated observer at least. 
 
 In the early days of the railway epoch, it is true that 
 some of the traditions of other times still lingered; and 
 the works of Air. R. Stephenson, on the Birmingham; of 
 Air. Locke, on the Grand Junction; of Mr. Rastrick, on 
 the Brighton, lines; or those of Mr. Buck and Mr. Wood- 
 house on some of the Midland Counties lines; may be 
 cited as illustrations of the application of the principles 
 of design adopted by the earlier masters of. the art. Thus 
 the Stockport Viaduct, the Mersey Viaduct, the Ouse 
 Viaduct, the Fairfield Street Bridge, the Ouse Bridge, &c., 
 are solid, and at the same time elegant structures, only 
 liable to the reproach of not presenting any study of the 
 laws of perspective in the “ batter ” of the piers of the 
 more lofty structures. The engineers thus named were 
 also remarkably successful in their applications of cast- 
 iron to bridges, and the manner in which that material was 
 handled in the viaduct over the Regent’s Canal at Camden 
 Town, in the Trent Bridge, and in the Fairfield Street 
 Bridge, may be especially referred to as worthy of study 
 by the artist. Mr. Brunei, however, on the Great AVestern 
 Railway, seems to have attempted the attainment of a 
 strictly engineering style, and he thus inaugurated the 
 decline of artistic bridge-building. The viaduct over the 
 Thames at Maidenhead is perhaps a triumphant illustration 
 of the adhesive powers of Roman cement; but the effect 
 of the very flat ellipses, executed in such materials as or¬ 
 dinary brickwork in cement, is far from satisfactory; and 
 the petty attempts to introduce in this bridge architectural 
 ornamental details have been singularly unfortunate. 
 Alessrs. Stephenson, Locke, Buck, had the good taste 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 135 
 
 to perceive that railway structures were in themselves sin¬ 
 gularly devoid of romantic character, and that therefore 
 they were by no means adapted to being treated on the 
 principles of mediaevalism; but Air. Brunei either did not 
 appreciate the essential principles of that style, or he was 
 unable to resist the influence of the fashion of the day. 
 It was, indeed, upon the Great Western line that Engineers’ 
 Gothic first made its appearance in railway works, and it 
 would he hard to imagine anything moi’e ludicrously absurd 
 than the bridges in which Air. Brunei endeavoured to in¬ 
 troduce this peculiar phase of the history of architecture. 
 Some of the bridges on the Great Western Railway, in 
 Bath and Bristol, may be referred to as illustrations of the 
 offences against taste committed at the outset of his career 
 by that undoubtedly superior man Air. Brunei, wdiose won¬ 
 derful talent in fact only served to enable him to do the 
 more fatal mischief to the cause of art. As specimens of 
 Gothic architecture, they are simply detestable; as speci¬ 
 mens of logical construction, they are equally objection¬ 
 able; because the pointed arch is precisely the one the 
 least fitted to support the efforts of heavy loads travelling' 
 at great velocities; on both scores the “ narrow gauge ” 
 engineers were therefore justified in their preference for 
 the forms more nearly allied to those of classical art; and 
 it is perhaps worthy of more than a passing remark that 
 the engineers who, about the middle of the decade between 
 1830 and 1840, represented the cause of common sense in 
 the furious “ battle of the gauges ” then waged, were thus 
 equally the representatives of regular art in matters of 
 construction. 
 
 It was not until several years after the introduction of 
 the railway system that any great necessity was felt for 
 the application of materials adapted to receive new forms, 
 or able to produce extraordinary results; and, indeed, it 
 was not until about the year 1840 that railway bridge- 
 building began to assume a preponderating influence over 
 the ordinary descriptions of work of that class. Some of 
 Telford’s latest works upon the Birmingham Canal, some 
 of Air. Leather’s bridges in Yorkshire, the various road 
 bridges by the brothers Rennie, Rastrick, AValker, Alylne, 
 Tierney, Clark, &c., erected between 1830 and 1840, dis¬ 
 play quite as much boldness and skill as the bridges erected 
 upon the earlier railways; but neither in England nor on 
 the Continent were any attempts made to alter the modes 
 of artistic treatment previously adopted, or to overcome 
 physical difficulties by new methods of construction, if we 
 except the general application of the suspension principle 
 to ordinary road-bridges. For some reasons of economy 
 the Continental engineers seem at this time to have ac¬ 
 corded a marked preference to iron wire suspension bridges 
 over chain ones, and the structures of Cubsac, Fribourg, 
 Geneva, Bry-sur-Alarne, Triel, la Roche Bernard, and the 
 countless bridges over the Saone, Rhone, Seine, &c., 
 erected about the period referred to, are good illustrations 
 of the taste which then prevailed in this branch of art. 
 The Ingenieurs des Ponts et Chaussees erected about the 
 same time some rather remarkable timber-bridges, of 
 which Emery’s bridge over the Seine at Grenclle is a good 
 illustration; and Colonel Emy published a description of 
 
 his method of forming timber arches of large span by 
 means of thin planks bent on the flat (to use a workman’s 
 phrase), a system subsequently applied on a large scale to 
 railway works by our own engineers, Locke, Green, Erring- 
 ton, Jee, &c. Railroads on the Continent were not 
 rapidly adopted; and in France especially the Government 
 engineers in the beginning opposed their introduction in 
 the most systematic manner. It was, indeed, only in Bel¬ 
 gium that the new method of intercommunication was at 
 first heartily accepted, and it cannot therefore be a matter 
 of surprise that the only -works on the Continent erected 
 in the early days of railway travelling worthy of notice 
 should have been confined to the Viaducts of the \ r al 
 Fleury and of Dolhain, and to the beautiful Bridge of le 
 Val Benoit. In Germany, Spain, and Italy the use of 
 railways spread even more slowly than it did in France; 
 and indeed the state of political and social disturbance of 
 those countries, following the events of 1830, greatly re¬ 
 tarded their advance in the arts of material civilization. 
 There was a lull in the revolutionary storm about 1840, 
 and the various governments of the Continent seemed for 
 a time to be relieved from the necessity of struggling for 
 their existence; they then began to turn their attention 
 to the mighty social revolution which was being effected in 
 England, America, and Belgium by the new system of 
 locomotion, and an impulse was rapidly given to the execu¬ 
 tion of the works required for its introduction in the 
 countries hitherto deprived of it, which works, in their 
 turn, have influenced the style and manner of bridge¬ 
 building, on account of the unforeseen difficulties the 
 engineers had to encounter in the more varied conditions 
 of the configuration of the country upon the lines of direc¬ 
 tion followed by the railways. 
 
 Between 1840 and 1848, however, the only remarkable 
 characteristics observable in the majority of the bridges 
 and viaducts erected for the railways then constructed in 
 such numbers, were their large dimensions, and the sim¬ 
 plicity, nay, almost the baldness, of their designs. The 
 timber bridges of bent planks, before alluded to, were at 
 this period often resorted to; and the timber lattice-bridges 
 on the systems of Town and Long were at times employed 
 on the lines of railway where it -was essential to keep the 
 capital accounts at the lowest possible amount. The 
 general type of viaduct then adopted was the one to he 
 met with in the Folkstone and Hitchin Viaducts by Sir 
 AVm. Cubitt, or the Alalaunay and Barentin Viaducts by 
 Air. Locke; but they rarely exceeded 100 feet in height or 
 50 feet in the span of the arches, which were usually semicir¬ 
 cular. On some of the Alidland lines, as near Birmingham 
 and Rugby, viaducts of moderate elevation, upon semi¬ 
 elliptical arches, were constructed ; and on the extensions 
 of the broad-gauge lines. Air. Brunei erected some very 
 elaborately scientific timber viaducts of great boldness of 
 construction, but, as usual with him, those viaducts were 
 utterly without elegance of outline. Alany of the cast- 
 iron bridges erected by Alessrs. Locke and Stephenson 
 were by no means deficient in taste; and such works as the 
 Barnes and the Richmond Bridges of the former engineer, 
 the bridge over the Trent, and the great High Level Bridge 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 136 
 
 at Newcastle of the latter, may be cited as illustrations of 
 the style of art they practised. The other engineers of 
 that period followed the path thus traced for them, and 
 with a few slight personal differences, so to speak, the 
 works of Messrs. Yignoles, Fairbairn, Bidder, Hawkshaw, 
 &c., were strikingly like those of their great leaders. The 
 Lockwood Viaduct, by Mr. Hawkshaw, is perhaps, in its 
 way, one of the best specimens of a lofty stone structure 
 of that description, and the quantity of material in the 
 piers has been reduced in this case to a minimum ; but on 
 comparison of this work with the viaduct erected about 
 the same period in France by M. Flachat, for the exten¬ 
 sion of the St. Germains Bailway, the difference between 
 the works of a man of talent, and those of a man of innate 
 taste, becomes at once apparent. Mr. Hawkshaw, in fact, 
 like the majority of English engineers, has given a straight 
 face to his piers, whereas M. Flachat has given to his a 
 curvilinear batter. Both of these eminent engineers, 
 however, have made the mistake of not introducing im¬ 
 posts under the springings of the arches. In Scotland, 
 Mr. Millar, about the same period, erected some stone 
 bridges of a very remarkable character, amongst which 
 may be cited the Ballochmyle Viaduct, the great arch of 
 which has still the largest span of any stone railway via¬ 
 duct in existence. Mr. Millar’s works, however, bear little 
 trace of artistic feeling on his part, and the Ballochmyle 
 Viaduct is itself more remarkable for the boldness of its 
 construction than for its agreeable effect. One remark 
 may here be made with respect to the designs of nearly all 
 the long English viaducts—namely, that they consist of a 
 series of equal arches and piers throughout their length, 
 without the introduction of any intermediate piers to 
 strengthen the range, or to break the uniformity of the 
 design. Constructively, a long series of equal arches and 
 piers is objectionable; because if by accident one pier 
 should fall, all the rest must follow, like a pack of cards. 
 This actually did occur at the Barentin Viaduct; and the 
 system adopted by M. Thoyot in designing the Beaugency 
 Viaduct on the Orleans and Tours line, wherein the twenty- 
 five arches are divided into five bays by means of inter¬ 
 mediate and stronger piers, is both more logical and more 
 satisfactory to the eye than the ordinary form of the Eng¬ 
 lish viaduct. In cases like the Dinting Valley Viaduct, 
 Air. Jee avoided this error of the long series of equal 
 arches; but he did so by introducing the bent timber 
 beams, and by making his central openings of large span— 
 a course perhaps equally objectionable, for practical rea¬ 
 sons to be hereafter alluded to. In the long viaduct con¬ 
 necting Venice with the main land, the Austrian engineers, 
 for strategic reasons as well as for artistic ones, divided 
 the arches into a series of bays, as had been done at Beau¬ 
 gency ; but some of the German Viaducts erected about 
 this period were of such gigantic dimensions, and they are 
 so little known in England, that it is desirable to notice 
 them in greater detail than those already alluded to. 
 
 On the Saxo-Silesian Railway there is a series of these 
 constructions, such as those of Herrnhut, Ober-Cunnesdorf, 
 Gross Schweidnitz, and Niethen, composed of semicir¬ 
 cular arches of equal span, springing from piers with very 
 
 exaggerated batters. The Lobau Viaduct has seven large 
 semicircular arches of 55 feet 9 inches span, and two 
 smaller abutment arches, with a maximum height of about 
 100 feet from the surface of the ground to the rails. The 
 Sprectlial Viaduct is divided into three bays of five arches 
 each, the span of the centre arches being 55 feet 9 inches, 
 and that of the lateral arches 27 feet 10^ inches, the maxi¬ 
 mum height being about 64 feet. The Bacthal Viaduct 
 has seventeen arches of 55 feet 9 inches span, and a maxi¬ 
 mum height of about 59 feet. In all these works there is 
 rather an affectation of architectural treatment, and rustic 
 quoins, archivolts, distinctly marked voussoirs, are used, 
 together with occasional panels, as though their designers 
 had objected to large plain spaces. The viaduct at Aix- 
 la-Chapelle is a remarkable work; so also are those of the 
 Boberthal, of Goerlitz, Joannisbach, Deidenmulhe (the 
 maximum height of this work is about 167 feet), and 
 Gueulthal. The latter viaduct is only 120 feet high, but 
 it is in two ranges of arches, on the system of the Roman 
 aqueducts. In the gigantic Avorks on the Saxo-Bavarian 
 lines, however, this system of superposed arches has been 
 applied on the grandest scale, and it is to them that atten¬ 
 tion is particularly called. The viaduct of the Elsterthal, 
 in fact, has a total length of 892 feet, and a maximum 
 height of 228 feet 6 inches; its elevation is irregular, on 
 account of the occurrence of a river and a steeply escarped 
 bank on one side of the valley; but in the upper range of 
 six arches, the central one is of 100 feet 3 inches diameter, 
 and the lateral arches are of 93 feet diameter: all the 
 arches are semicircular. The viaduct of the Goltzchthal 
 is even more gigantic than this, for its total length is 1900 
 feet, and its maximum height 263 feet 6 inches, from the 
 summer level of the river to the rails’ level. In the 
 greater part of its length there are four ranges of arches, 
 of about 46 feet 10 inches diameter; but over the river 
 there are only two arches in the height, of which the lower 
 one has a span of 93 feet 10 inches, and the upper one a 
 span of 101 feet 3 inches. The materials employed in 
 both these viaducts are a mixture of granite and of brick; 
 and though the details are very far from elegant, and the 
 variations in the spans of the arches rather capricious, the 
 enormous dimensions of the works give them an air of 
 sublimity of which we in England can hardly form an 
 adequate idea : none of our viaducts attain more than 
 half the height of the Goltzchthal one. The marvellous 
 series of viaducts upon the road from Vienna to Trieste 
 over the Soemering will be noticed when the period sub¬ 
 sequent to 1848 passes under review; and it may suffice 
 simply to notice here the works upon the railway between 
 Genoa and Alessandria, because, although singularly bold, 
 they do not display any. originality of treatment. 
 
 In fact, both in Spain and in Italy, the period which wit¬ 
 nessed such energetic efforts on the part of the nations of 
 North-western Europe to develope the railway system was 
 comparatively sterile. In Spain, a great number of conces¬ 
 sions for railways were granted, but nothing of importance 
 was effected towards their execution; and in Italy, the nume¬ 
 rous “ dominations and powers” were serious stumbling- 
 blocks to the adoption of a system of intercommunication 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 13T 
 
 whose natural effect is to centralize the intellectual, and 
 consequently the political, life of nations. It is true that 
 the Spanish Government about this period made vigorous 
 efforts to improve the carriage roads of the country, and 
 some of the bridges and viaducts erected for that purpose 
 are worthy of notice, as in the cases of the viaduct at 
 Orense, the bridges of Tablete, Izbol, Monzon, Cabriel, 
 &c.; but they are still of very small dimensions, and serve 
 strangely to point the moral of the sad tale of Spain’s long 
 misrule, and of her fierce civil wars. In the Swiss can¬ 
 tons some remarkable road-bridges were also executed in 
 the period referred to ; but they were not characterized 
 by any originality of design, or by any new or peculiar 
 methods of construction. In the United States, also, the 
 art of bridge-building remained about this period in its 
 ordinary and earlier state ; and although the timber works 
 of the Portage Viaducts, of the Harper’s Perry, and other 
 bridges, and the aqueduct on the Croton Aqueduct, dis¬ 
 played considerable skill in construction, it certainly is 
 not to America that the art student would turn for lessons 
 in taste as applied to bridge-building. In new countries 
 there is too great a demand for acfive energy to admit of 
 the calm reflection necessary for the development of the 
 artistic faculties. 
 
 However, to resume our tale. It was about the end of 
 the period now under consideration that it was found 
 desirable, in consequence of the local peculiarities of the 
 districts to which the English system of railways was then 
 extended, to discover some methods by which roadways 
 should be carried over long openings, without its being 
 necessary to raise their levels. For ordinary purposes the 
 chain-bridges sufficed to secure this result; but these 
 structures were considered to be, and really are, too flexible 
 for railway traffic; and they were not considered to be 
 sufficiently durable. Cast iron framed girders had been 
 used, with a view of securing the necessary strength, 
 without any increase in the depth of the beams; and Mr. 
 Leather had even used cast iron suspension arcs on a large 
 scale for this purpose, in the same manner as the one 
 which Telford and Robert Stephenson had already adopted. 
 The fall of the Dee Viaduct, at Chester, had, however, 
 raised a prejudice in the public mind against the use of 
 cast iron, otherwise than in the form of girders in one 
 casting, or in that of voussoirs in iron arches; and, con¬ 
 sequently, Messrs. Fairbairn, Vignolles, Stephenson, &c., 
 were led to try experiments on the use of wrought iron. 
 Whilst men’s minds were thus turned expectantly towards 
 the application of this new material, the exigencies of that 
 most unreasonable body, the Admiralty, forced Mr. 
 Stephenson, in the case of the Menai Bridge, to bend 
 the whole of his energies to the solution of the problem, 
 because there were no known means at the disposal of the 
 engineer by which those exigencies could be met. With 
 the aid of Messrs. Hodgkinson, Clarke, Fairbairn, &c., 
 Mr. Stephenson began the long series of investigations, 
 which at last led to the discovery of the laws of resistance 
 of wrought-iron tubes and girders; and they were at once 
 applied by him to the construction of the Conway and 
 Menai tubular bridges,—for the road between London and 
 5 
 
 Dublin retained its privilege of exciting and taxing to the 
 highest degree the energies of the engineer. The success 
 of these wonderful works at once established the value of 
 the new material, plate iron, for the purposes of bridge 
 building, and its adoption became universal, as usual, with¬ 
 out much reference to the conditions under which it was 
 employed; for fashion in bridge building is as imperious, 
 and as incapable of reflection, as it is in more frivolous 
 things. Certainly, since 1848, wrought iron has been 
 used in preference to any other material, and often so in 
 cases where stone, brick, or cast iron would have been pre¬ 
 ferable to it. How long the fashion will last it is hard to 
 say; even now there are signs of a return to old practice 
 in some cases; but in the meanwhile, the indiscriminate 
 use of wrought iron has been sorely injurious to the inte¬ 
 rests of the architecture of bridge building. 
 
 In the case of the Britannia Bridge, the height of the 
 bottom of the tube from the water, and the enormous 
 width of the spans, produce so overwhelming an effect 
 upon the spectator, that he ceases to notice the utter want 
 of composition in the design. In fact, the surrounding 
 scenery rendered it desirable to avoid the introduction of 
 any details able to interfere with the simplicity of the 
 whole ; so that the limitation of the design to the simple 
 combination of the vertical and horizontal lines of the 
 piers and of the tubes, allows the bridge to assume a cha¬ 
 racter of absolute sublimity. This is not the case at 
 Conway, for there the tubular girders look simply like logs 
 suspended over the river, and the long level line of the 
 top contrasts in an unfavourable manner witli the broken 
 skyline of the old castle. Neither of these bridges, how¬ 
 ever, are as elegant as Telford’s chain bridges close to 
 them; and when we tuni to Stephenson’s Victoi’ia Bridge 
 over the St. Lawrence, to the Railway Bridge over the 
 Nile, or to Brunei’s Chepstowe and Saltash Bridges, it is 
 with feelings of dislike even to the material which could 
 allow of the construction of such abominations—speaking 
 of course artistically. The ordinary road bridges made of 
 plate iron, such as those on the London and North 
 Western Dock line, and the other metropolitan extensions, 
 rival one another in their intense ugliness; and to such 
 an extent has the neglect of taste, or elegance, in these 
 structures been pushed by the modern engineers, that 
 artists must almost rue the day when their colleagues were 
 furnished with the inducements to sin against the laws of 
 proportion and of optics, as they now so constantly do. 
 This mania for torturing wrought iron into ugly shapes 
 has prevailed to some extent on the Continent, as it has 
 done in England; but the innate taste of southern 
 Europe has preserved the French and the Germans from 
 running into the extreme of ugliness our countrymen had 
 reached ; and, as we shall see, the nations of the Con¬ 
 tinent, even from the first, employed wrought iron in com¬ 
 binations which enabled them to introduce a more varied 
 style of artistic treatment than was possible when box or 
 plate-iron girders alone were used, as they were here, in the 
 early periods of the application of wrought iron as the 
 principal material for bridge building. In this respect the 
 Report of the Commission to consider the Application of 
 
 T 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 138 
 
 Iron to Railway Structures did mischief in England; for, 
 by setting their faces decidedly against the application of 
 the lattice principle, they prolonged the reign of the solid¬ 
 sided plate iron girders, so objectionable in ordinary cases 
 for artistic effect, at least, whatever may have been their 
 value constructively. 
 
 The English engineers, however, did not long submit to 
 the species of law thus laid down for their guidance, and 
 in a short time after the success of the application 
 of wrought-iron to railway structures had been demon¬ 
 strated, numerous manners of effecting that purpose were 
 practically adopted. The bow and string bridges of Sir C. 
 Eox, on the Blackwall line; the lattice girder bridges of 
 the Boyne Viaduct; the Warren's girders of the Newarks 
 Dyke, the Crumlin Viaduct, and some of the viaducts on 
 the Indian railways; and more recently the use of wrought- 
 iron to resist compression as in the Victoria Bridge at 
 Chelsea, have proved at least that our engineers are willing 
 to “ try all things.” In the class of common road bridges 
 they have also lately erected some remarkable monuments, 
 and such works as the Rochester Town Bridge (a strange 
 contrast to the Railway Bridge by its side); the Victoria 
 Bridge at Windsor, and the new Westminster Bridge, by 
 Mr. Page; the Suspension Bridge at Chelsea by the same 
 engineer; the very beautiful suspension bridges of Pesth, 
 by Mr. T. Clark, and of Kieff, by Mr. Vignolles, &c., may 
 challenge comparison with the analogous works of any 
 previous epoch, although very great exception may be 
 taken to the taste of all Mr. Page's bridges, which, unfor¬ 
 tunately for the true interests of art, it is now the fashion 
 to admire. The great viaduct for the railway in the valley 
 of the Dee, near Llangollen, is a noble work, susceptible 
 of improvement, however, by a slight change in the out¬ 
 line of the piers; the Border Bridge, near Berwick, is also 
 a magnificent structure, bold, simple, and effective; the 
 viaducts of the railway near Brighton are worthy of notice ; 
 but it is upon the great Indian irrigation works that the 
 English engineers have achieved their most glorious recent 
 triumphs. The Solani Aqueduct, upon the Ganges Canal, 
 is in fact the most stupendous monument of that kind yet 
 constructed, not so much on account of its height, but on 
 account of the enormous volume of water it discharges; 
 the sectional area of the water-way is, in fact, not less than 
 1800 superficial feet. It has 15 segmental arches of 
 50 feet span, and a total length of 1050 feet; in the latter 
 respect falling short of the dimensions of the Godavery 
 Aqueduct, which is not less than 2356 feet in length, hut 
 only has a water way of about 88 feet superficial; this latter 
 aqueduct has 49 arches of 40 feet span each. Unfortu¬ 
 nately, the designs of these aqueducts are as devoid of 
 anything like beauty or picturesqueness of outline as it 
 is possible to conceive them to be; and on looking at 
 them, we are compelled to admit that the sesthetical doc¬ 
 trines of the school which hold that “ utility is a source of 
 beauty'' are radically false. Yet Rennie, in the Lune 
 Aqueduct, and the French engineers of the present gene¬ 
 ration in the Orb Aqueduct, have shown that it is easy to 
 combine those qualities when the proper amount of study 
 is devoted to the task. 
 
 On the Continent, the practice of bridge-building has 
 of late been of a much more varied character than it has 
 been in England, and the recently-erected bridges of 
 France, Germany, &c., must be referred to as the most 
 recent models for the student. Thus, in France, we may 
 mention the great viaducts of Cliaumont and of Nogent- 
 sur-Marne, of Indret, la Fure, la Feige, des Sapins, 
 Montciant, all of stone; and the Chaumont Viaduct of not 
 less than 1968 feet in length hv 162 feet 6 inches in maxi¬ 
 mum height, whilst that of Nogent-sur-Marne is 2722 feet 
 long by 101 feet 6 inches above the water-line of the river. 
 The stone bridges of Mont Louis, la Pile, Roanne; the 
 iron bridges at Nevers, Tarrasconne, St. Denis; the 
 wrought-iron bridges at Asnieres, over the Allier, at Lagny, 
 &c., on the various recently-executed railways, are all 
 characterized by scientific and artistic qualities of a rare 
 description. Upon the lines of ordinary carriage traffic, 
 the French have also erected some important bridges, such 
 as the Fonts d'Alma, des Invalides, d’Arcole, Solferino, 
 St. Michel, &c., in Paris; of which the Pont d'Alma is 
 worthy to rank with the best specimens of Perronet’s 
 school, and the Pont d'Arcole is the boldest attempt yet 
 made to use wrought-iron in compression. The aqueduct 
 of Roquefavour is a monument surpassing in grandeur every 
 similar work of ancient or modern times, for it is 1279 feet 
 long by 266 feet high, whereas the Lisbon Aqueduct is 223 
 feet high, and the Caserta Aqueduct is only 162 feet high. 
 The road bridges of Grenoble, Menat, the completion of 
 Mantes Bridge, the Bridge of St. Sauveur, and Saint Just, 
 &c., are alike worthy of study, and perhaps the more so 
 from the fact that the French engineers have not so com¬ 
 pletely abandoned the use of stone and other old-fashioned 
 materials as we seem to have done. The same remark 
 may he extended to Switzerland, where a very beautiful 
 road bridge has recently been erected at Berne; and some 
 striking viaducts, as at the Sitterbriicke and at Fribourg, 
 have lately been erected. In Germany also, the bridges 
 over the Rhine at Kehl and at Cologne may be referred 
 to, as also the bridges over the Theiss, at Dirschau, Ma- 
 rienburg, Offenhurg, Leer, Ladenburg, Saltzburg, Weisse, 
 Grossheselohe, Sarstedt, &c., the bulk of which are, by 
 the way, of wrought-iron lattice-work. The viaducts of 
 Franzdorf, Schilsdsche, Beitigheim, and the countless 
 series of viaducts on the Soemering, are worthy of all 
 praise; and the stone bridges of Vienna, Schweinfurt, 
 Ladenburg, Verona, Cocaglio, &c., are alike monuments 
 of the German skill in this branch of architecture. Even 
 the Papal Government has of late entered upon the con¬ 
 struction of large public works, and the viaduct of Aricia, 
 1020 feet long by 200 feet high, with its three ranges of 
 arches, looks almost like a revival of the ancient arts of 
 the masters of the world. In the rest of Italy, the recently- 
 erected bridges are of small dimensions; and indeed the 
 great works on the Lombardo-Venetian lines belong rather 
 to the class of the German engineering than they do to 
 the indigenous Italian. In Spain, some important bridges 
 and viaducts have been constructed for the new railways; 
 but as they were nearly all executed by English or by 
 French engineers, they do not display any local or national 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE.' 
 
 139 
 
 peculiarities of feeling or taste which, would require a 
 special notice here: Spanish architecture and Spanish 
 engineering at the present day are utterly devoid, in fact, 
 of originality or of specific character. This remark may be 
 extended to such nations as Holland, Sweden, Denmark, 
 and Russia; for the arts of building, as practised in them, 
 are ruled by a servile spirit of copyism on the part of the 
 local engineers and architects, or the great works are 
 directly confided to foreigners, who of course follow the 
 same systems which prevail in their own countries. 
 
 Before closing this part of the subject under review, it 
 is desirable to call special attention to the great suspen¬ 
 sion-bridge over the Niagara, built by an American engi¬ 
 neer, Mr. Roebling, because the temporary success of 
 this bridge certainly proves that the suspension principle 
 can be applied for the purpose of spanning openings of 
 great width in an economical manner, even when applied to 
 railways. The durability of this Niagara Bridge is, how¬ 
 ever, more than questionable; but there are many cases in 
 which it may be advantageous to erect a cheap temporary 
 bridge, able to last simply until the traffic created by its 
 very agency should afford the outlay for a more permanent 
 structure. Little can be said in praise of the artistic 
 effect of the Niagara Bridge ; for the heavy lateral bracing 
 and lattice-work of the roadway clashes very disagreeably 
 with the aerial lightness of the suspension-wires, and the 
 suspension-piers look disproportionally light; but this 
 structure is an original one in its effect, and, on the whole, 
 it commands admiration. Mr. Barlow has lately adopted 
 some details of Mr. Roebling’s work in his Lambeth 
 Bridge, without any improvement in the artistic treat¬ 
 ment ; and on the Canal Bridge at Vienna, the suspension 
 principle has lately been applied with considerable skill to 
 the support of the channel for the water-way. As a gene¬ 
 ral rule, at the present day, suspension-bridges are not the 
 fashion, and even for light traffic and for temporary com¬ 
 munications wrought-iron girders in some of their com¬ 
 pound forms are adopted for those purposes, whilst for the 
 more important bridges wrought-iron is almost exclusively 
 used. This tendency is to be regretted, because, firstly, 
 the durability of wrought-iron bridges has not yet received 
 the sanction of time; and, secondly, because that mate¬ 
 rial does not seem to admit of artistic treatment so suc¬ 
 cessfully as do the more anciently used ones, such as brick, 
 stone, cast-iron, or suspension-chains. Much of the pre¬ 
 judice against the latter-named description of monuments 
 is attributable to the falls of several iron-wire suspension- 
 bridges, which have taken place under such circumstances 
 as to create a very painful interest with respect to them; 
 but as the causes of these falls are easily understood and 
 guarded against, there can be no valid reason why that 
 particular mode of construction should be so entirely 
 abandoned as it actually is. Under any circumstances, it 
 must be a matter of regret to witness the universal pre¬ 
 ference for a style of construction which can admit of the 
 execution of such fearfully ugly works as the new Hun- 
 gerford Bridge, or as the new road-bridges on the railway 
 extension lines of the metropolis. The introduction of 
 the system of tubular foundations for river bridges has in | 
 
 some degree tended to render that class of monuments 
 less satisfactory to the artist than they were wont to be, 
 because the strict parallelism of the tubes exaggerates the 
 awkwardness of the effects of the leading lines of the 
 girder bridges. Instances of this defect are to be seen in 
 the Hungerford Bridge above mentioned; in the Bordeaux 
 Bridge of the Orleans and Southern railways of France; 
 and in the Albert, or Saltash, Bridge—in fact, in all the 
 cases wherein engineers have entirely cast aside the study 
 of artistic elegance to confine themselves to the strict 
 requirements of economical construction. 
 
 ARCHITECTURE AND ITS RELATION TO 
 CIVILIZATION. 
 
 We can never be too accurate in our definitions, whether 
 they relate to science or art; hence we shall be pardoned 
 for any repetitions in our illustration of what we under¬ 
 stand by architecture. A popular authority says :— 
 
 “ An excavation in a rock is not an architectural work, 
 unless it possesses a certain symmetry and certain orna¬ 
 ments which characterize other similar works, so as to 
 enable us to refer it to some class or kind of construction. 
 Where such instances of excavations occur, the ornamental 
 or architectural part is obviously only the copy of models 
 in wood or stone previously erected on the earth. Such 
 is the character of the rock temples of Elephanta, and 
 the rock-cut tombs or temples in Nubia. The rude Pe- 
 lasgic or Cyclopian walls of Tiryus, in the Peloponnesus, 
 and other similar structures in Italy, possess a distinctive 
 character which is seen in a more advanced state in the 
 military fortifications of Mycense, where we find also, in 
 what is known as the Treasury or the Tomb of Arteus, a 
 very remarkable subterraneous structure of nearly as 
 early a date, and the only instance, as far as we know, now 
 existing in Europe of a construction in stone combined 
 with the sister art of sculpture. We refer to the sculp¬ 
 tured figures in high relief, commonly called lions, which 
 stand over the great gateway. But even these can hardly 
 be considered architectural works.'”* 
 
 The early existing monuments in Great Britain wdiich 
 are supposed to be anterior to the Roman invasion of this 
 island are classed, whether correctly or not we shall not 
 here inquire, under the general term Druidical or Celtic. 
 The most remarkable of these monuments, both for pre¬ 
 servation and arrangement, is Stonehenge, on Salisbury 
 Plain, in Wiltshire. Here we find stones, some of very 
 large dimensions, placed upright in the ground, and form¬ 
 ing a series of concentric circles. They are not merely 
 rude masses, like those of Avebury, near Silbury Hill, but 
 they have evidently undergone some shaping and rubbing 
 down, so as to form tolerably regular parallelopipedons. 
 We here observe also two stones placed upright like posts 
 or pillars, and another large stone placed over them like 
 an architrave or lintel. The lintel is also secured by means 
 of mortises and tenons. All this indicates certainly a 
 
 * “ English Cyclopaedia.” 
 
 T 2 
 
HO ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 regular principle of construction. But with the exception 
 of a few inquirers, who are perhaps disposed to overvalue 
 Celtic remains, can any careful antiquarian trace the forms 
 of our oldest churches and other ancient edifices to the 
 rude masses of the British monuments in this island ? It 
 is an historical fact that the Homans introduced into 
 England their own principles of building; and it is equally 
 demonstrable, that with the exception probably of the 
 arch, Roman architecture, as it is known to us, both from 
 existing specimens and written hooks, is a modification 
 and adaptation of Grecian architecture. It was probably 
 introduced among the Romans by Greeks, and certainly 
 practised by them, even under the emperors. If we then 
 trace the progress of architectural construction from the 
 Greeks, through the Romans, to its introduction into 
 Western Europe, we may fairly assert that architecture, in 
 its strictest historical sense, implies the adaptation of 
 Grecian models to the buildings of our own times. 
 
 A building may be well arranged for all purposes of 
 convenience, but if this is all, it is not an architectural 
 construction. To possess an architectural character, it 
 must combine internal convenience and fitness with beauty 
 of external form, and with durability. If the external 
 arrangement of a building* should he compounded of those 
 of several nations, such as Hindoo, Egyptian, and Greek, 
 we should not admit this to be an architectural construction, 
 even if the external form gave pleasure, which, however, 
 is hardly a possible result; for it is essential to the cha¬ 
 racter of an architectural structure, that the general ar¬ 
 rangements and ornaments should have a unity of character 
 and be referable to some one model. 
 
 Architecture arose, in fact, from the combination of 
 sculpture with construction. Building may be older than 
 sculpture, but sculpture combined with building produced 
 architecture. From the Homeric poems we deduce only 
 very vagne ideas as to the structure of temples and palaces : 
 we find no distinct indication of the arrangement of 
 columns, which are the very essence of Greek architecture. 
 
 It is worthy of remark, though it seems to have escaped 
 the observation of many writers, that the nation to which 
 Europe is indebted for the elements of its architecture, is 
 also the nation to which we are indebted for our knowledge 
 of geometry. The law of the mind which gave birth to 
 the simple forms of the triangle, the circle, and the square, 
 gave to man the elements of all his works of art. We are 
 not aware of any nation that has had a system of architec¬ 
 ture which has not also had a style of sculpture, nor do 
 we know of any nation that has carried architecture to 
 perfection, or even to a degree of excellence of its kind, 
 that has not also had a system of geometry and arith¬ 
 metic. 
 
 We have endeavoured briefly to show that architecture, 
 historically explained, is the mode of constructing edifices 
 which we have received from the Romans and the Greeks. 
 But with the establishment of Christianity, and its diffu¬ 
 sion over Western Europe, a gradual modification was made 
 in the forms of buildings devoted to religious worship; for 
 it must be observed, that it is principally in the religious 
 edifices of a nation that we find the essential principles of 
 
 its architecture exhibited and preserved. This remark 
 applies with equal truth to all nations that have left be¬ 
 hind them some examples of a definite style of building. 
 The great ecclesiastical structures of Western Europe now 
 exhibit a character in appearance very different indeed 
 from the models of Greek and Roman buildings. They 
 gradually deviated from the heavy and rounded Norman 
 arch, the type of which is undoubtedly the Roman arch, 
 to the pointed and light constructions generally denomi¬ 
 nated the Gothic. That foreign ornaments of a barbarous, 
 or at least incongruous, style were occasionally mingled 
 with them by the numerous architects of the Middle Ages, 
 cannot be denied; but still in the early ecclesiastical, and 
 also in many of the civil structures of Italy, Germany, 
 France, Flanders, and England, a distinct and new cha¬ 
 racter of architecture may be seen; and this distinction 
 became again so marked in the several countries of Europe, 
 that the Gothic or Pointed styles of England and various 
 continental countries have each a distinctive character, 
 though they may all have had a common origin. The 
 architecture of a people is an important part of their 
 history. It is the external and enduring form of their 
 public life, and index of the state of knowledge and social 
 progress. Architecture, therefore, to be understood aright, 
 must be considered historically—must be considered, that 
 is, in connexion with the whole public and social life of 
 the several nations in which it has been practised, and the 
 particular times and circumstances in which it has flou¬ 
 rished. The architecture of the ancient Greeks, or that of 
 the various European nations during the Middle Ages, 
 would be very imperfectly understood, if the architectural 
 remains were studied apart from the external or inner 
 history of the countries in which they are found. On the 
 other hand, the existing edifices serve to illustrate and 
 elucidate much that would without their assistance be but 
 imperfectly comprehended. 
 
 No national architecture has ever been self-originated 
 or invented. The architecture of every age and country 
 where true architecture has existed, has grown out of 
 some previous architecture. The architecture of Greece, 
 the purest architecture which the world has ever seen, 
 may be traced back to Assyria and Egypt. The architec¬ 
 ture of Rome was derived immediately from Greece. The 
 Oriental imagination transformed this into Byzantine; the 
 Occidental into Romanesque; and borrowing something 
 from both of these, the mind of the thirteenth century 
 produced the Pointed or Gothic style, which the archi¬ 
 tects of Italy, France, and England modified to suit the 
 wants and characters of their respective countries. 
 
 But always it was a modification, adaptation, or de¬ 
 velopment of a previous system, not a reproduction of it. 
 No true architecture has been merely mimetic. Though 
 the architecture of Greece derived its germ from Egypt 
 and Assyria, it developed into its perfect beauty and suit¬ 
 ableness only by the free influence of the Greek mind. 
 So that of Rome owed whatever of beauty and fitness it 
 possessed to its departure from, not its conformity with, 
 the Greek type. So, whatever there is of grandeur and 
 glory in the wondrous Gothic of the Middle Age, dates 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 from its emancipation from the classic form. No imported 
 architecture has ever been lasting. In our own country 
 we have tried this, and the failure is palpable. Our archi¬ 
 tects have erected copies of the temples of Greece and 
 Rome, alike for churches, museums, and town halls ; and 
 however much they have been admired while the fashion 
 lasted, and scholars imbued with classic ideas gave tone to 
 public opinion, almost before they were finished the fashion 
 passed away, and they are now regarded with general dis¬ 
 satisfaction. To the Greek succeeded the Gothic, and 
 though the passion for it be still fervid, the opinion is 
 evidently fast gaining ground, that Gothic reproduction 
 is as essentially vicious and untrue as that which it has 
 supplanted. 
 
 In fact, we may hope that we are in this country coming 
 to understand that whilst an absolutely new style is a thing 
 neither to be desired nor looked for, and that an eclectic 
 style is an absurdity, the architecture of every age, as well 
 as every country, to be a true living architecture, must be 
 a product of that age and country, adapted to its special 
 wants and circumstances and character, developed out of 
 some previously-existing architecture, but adapted with 
 perfect freedom to present purposes, and embodying to 
 the fullest possible extent the scientific knowledge and 
 artistic feeling of the present time. 
 
 If this be so, the question of style will eventually, per¬ 
 haps, at no very distant day, settle itself. It will be felt 
 that in every building there is a matter to be determined 
 antecedent to all considerations of style. The first grand 
 requisite is, that a building shall be designed so as to 
 answer as perfectly as possible the purpose for which it is 
 erected; shall, in other words, possess the greatest attain¬ 
 able convenience and stability. When that is arrived at, 
 the feeling for beauty and grandeur in the architect who 
 has rightly studied his art will suggest a style—an out¬ 
 ward and visible clothing of the actual body—which shall 
 be as evidently in conformity with it, and the more beau¬ 
 tiful because the more suitable for it, and be as properly 
 adapted to the purpose it has to fulfil, and the locality in 
 which it is placed, as the form and clothing and colour of 
 an animal or a flower are recognised to be the most beau¬ 
 tiful, as well as the most suitable, with which it could 
 have been endowed. 
 
 Ornament is an essential part of architecture. With¬ 
 out ornament there is no true architecture, only building. 
 But it is a misconception of the true purpose of art to 
 say that an edifice is erected for the sake of ornament. 
 Architecture consists of structure and ornament; but 
 ornament must not be a thing extraneous to the con¬ 
 struction, a something added to it merely to please the eye. 
 True ornament is the expression of the idea of a building. 
 Equally with the building itself, the ornament must 
 possess unity, proportion, congruity; be a well-considered 
 whole to which every part conduces, and of which every 
 part is a part. 
 
 The Bodleian Library possesses a collection of drawings of French 
 monuments, for the most part now destroyed, which formerly belonged 
 to the Bibliothbque du Roi, but were abstracted from that place by one 
 of the curators, between the years 1781 and 1784. 
 
 THE BLOCKS OF BETON IN THE INTER¬ 
 NATIONAL EXHIBITION. 
 
 Amongst the productions of French industry and ingenuity 
 displayed in the International Exhibition are a few blocks, 
 which in colour resemble Portland stone, and in hardness 
 and density may even be said to surpass granite. But for 
 the fact of their being catalogued and numbered, one might 
 suppose them to have been placed in the vicinity of rich 
 silks and laces from Lyons, Valenciennes, and Chantilly, 
 by causes not less accidental than are sometimes boulders 
 on alluvial plains. Their juxtaposition to much of what 
 is beautiful, fanciful, and brilliant, or to specimens of 
 engineering skill in that state of completeness more ex¬ 
 planatory of design than words can be, throw them so 
 greatly into the shade, that few take the trouble of 
 examining them, or of ascertaining for what purpose they 
 have been made. Yet the production of these blocks was 
 effected at the cost of about as much patience, time, and 
 trouble, as was the porcelain of Bernard Palissy; and 
 perhaps more capital was expended on them than was 
 expended in producing the brilliant treasures of Messrs. 
 Hunt and Roskell’s cases, which daily attract such a host 
 of fair admirers. M. Francis Coignet, the inventor and 
 patentee, on seeing several years ago the failure of M. 
 YichaCs asphalte, when applied to the construction of 
 houses and hydraulic works, with an energy worthy the 
 countryman of the Huguenot potters, set about discovering 
 a composition that would rival in durability, hardness, and 
 solidity some fragments of asphalte which were then found 
 in the remains of Roman aqueducts and thermal baths in 
 the south of Europe. All the scientific knowledge which 
 was acquired by him in the “ Ecole Polytechnique,” and 
 in after-life by profoundly studying chemistry, was brought 
 to bear upon the problem which he resolved to work out ; 
 and two brothers, who were at the head of one of the 
 wealthiest manufacturing establishments in France, gave 
 him all the assistance which capital can afford. In the 
 course of eight years, several thousand experiments were 
 made with various degrees of success. But throughout 
 that period, the chief result of so much effort was, in 
 learning that as long as asphalte required to be moulded it 
 would, unless for pavements, be more expensive, less 
 durable, and far less impervious to weather than either 
 brick or mortar. Before such cement as that used by the 
 Romans could be manufactured, M. Coignet found that 
 a lesser quantity of water than had hitherto been em¬ 
 ployed in the fabrication of modern asphalte would be 
 necessary, too great a quantity having the effect of ren¬ 
 dering crystallization impossible, and preventing the agglo¬ 
 meration of the molecules of the lime, which formed a 
 principal element in its composition. Independent of the 
 expense which was entailed by using asphalte, and the 
 boiling state which rendered moulds indispensable, there 
 was another equally serious drawback. The water, in 
 evaporating with the rapidity with which hot water always 
 does, rendered M. Vichat’s asphalte very porous and the 
 reverse of water-proof, as well as very brittle when exposed 
 to the action of frosty weather. The experiment was then 
 
142 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 tried of introducing it more sparingly, and of using tlie 
 asplialte several degrees below boiling-point, but with 
 signal failure, as the lime was then in excess and did not 
 amalgamate with the other elements. It subsequently 
 occurred to M. Coignet that were sea-sand substituted for 
 gravel in the fabrication of asplialte, it would greatly im¬ 
 prove its quality, and when tried it was found to do so. 
 But still perfection was not attained. Coal cinders, schist, 
 and clay were next added, with considerable success. 
 However, the quantities of moisture which each contained 
 rendered their application of extreme difficulty, to remedy 
 which the erection of drying kilns was found to be indis¬ 
 pensable. M. Coignet at length considered that his 
 labours were ended, and his most sanguine hopes fulfilled. 
 However, atmospheric changes had a most damaging 
 effect upon his work. It did not always do to take the 
 asplialte—or, as the inventor more properly calls it, betons 
 agglomeres —out of the cauldron at the same degree of 
 heat; or, rather, it was requisite to vary its heat according 
 to the heat of the atmosphere in which it was applied to 
 building purposes. To go into all tbe details of the tlier- 
 mometrical experiments then made would require a French¬ 
 man’s pen, and a far greater amount of space than can be 
 now accorded. It suffices to say, tliat they were made 
 with as much hair-splitting nicety as was displayed by the 
 Revolutionary committee when altering the national system 
 of weights and measures. This ordeal passed through, 
 experiments were made with the most signal success, and 
 M. Coignet flattered himself that his betons agglomeres 
 would attain as wide-world a reputation as plaster of Paris 
 or Roman cement. The first trial on a large scale which 
 was made of them was during 1853, at St. Denis, near 
 Paris. It was in the construction of a gasometer and an 
 extensive manufactory for substances of a highly com¬ 
 bustible nature. The firm for which the latter was built 
 had hitherto paid annually a very heavy sum to insurance 
 companies, and were naturally desirous of lessening it. 
 To effect that end the rafters, joists, door-posts, window- 
 frames, roof, and floors, were made of tlie same material 
 as the walls, and destruction by fire thus rendered impos¬ 
 sible. This factory has ever since been an object of some 
 interest to the principal engineers of France, and the 
 effects of the weather on it are closely scanned by them; 
 but as yet they have not been able to make an evil report. 
 
 The betons agglomeres were next employed in the con¬ 
 struction of a handsome villa in the suburbs of Paris. 
 With the exception of the doors, panelling, window- 
 sashes, and Venetian blinds, no wood was used in building 
 it. Houses, offices, and a terrace that extends for a con¬ 
 siderable length along the Seine, are all formed without 
 any apparent joining, and in point of fact may be con¬ 
 sidered in the light of a single block. What the whole 
 thing cost it is not in our power to state, but we have re¬ 
 ceived the assurance of M. Coignet that it was not nearly 
 so expensive as it would have been if constructed of ordi¬ 
 nary materials. From our own personal experience we 
 can also state that the inmates of this villa are less exposed 
 to the effects of heat in summer and cold in winter than 
 are those of brick or stone houses. The unpanelled por¬ 
 
 tions of the walls do not, like those of French houses 
 generally, drip with damp during the thaws that take 
 place in January or February; and so impervious are the 
 betons agglomeres to the action of humidity, that the roof 
 is flat and capable of being converted into a flower-garden 
 without discolouring the ceilings immediately beneath 
 it. They are also susceptible of the most delicate 
 moulding that is requisite for architectural decoration, and 
 of such hardness, density, and resisting power, that the 
 Emperor Napoleon has ordered them to be experimentally 
 employed in a breakwater near Bayonne, a reservoir, and 
 the arch of a bridge at the Ecole des Pouts et Chausses, 
 some military constructions at Vincennes, as well as park- 
 rangers’ houses; and a cite ouvriere, with the roof laid out 
 as a garden and playground for the children of the inmates, 
 lias been spoken of already. Should these experiments be 
 successful, the invention of M. Coignet will be of wide- 
 world importance now that monster warehouses and hotels 
 supersede shops and inns, or model lodging-houses, and 
 such habitations as were lately erected in Columbia Square 
 are found to be the most effective way of moralizing the 
 working-classes. 
 
 ON THE ARCHITECTURE OF INDIA. 
 
 A LECTURE, BY I. SIMPSON, ESQ. 
 
 In February of last year I visited all the principal places 
 of Rajpootana, and amongst others the ancient city of 
 Cheetore. Previous to this, from what I had seen at 
 Delhi and Agra, I had formed the opinion that the Mahom- 
 medan architecture was far finer than that of the Hindoos; 
 and from what I had then seen, perhaps it was a correct 
 conclusion; but my visit to Cheetore completely shook 
 this first impression, and gave me such a high notion of 
 the Hindoo powers, that I now consider it an open ques¬ 
 tion as to which is best. Some might lean to one side, 
 while some might prefer the other, as tastes or, perhaps, 
 accident might lead them; but I would advise no one to 
 give judgment on the comparative merits of Hindoo and 
 Maliommedan architecture till he has seen the vast ruins 
 of Cheetore. 
 
 Cheetore is placed on a plateau forming the top of a low 
 hill, and is about three m-iles long. Within this three 
 miles is one vast mass of ruins, formed of temples, towers, 
 palaces, gates, tanks, fountains, &c. Fragments of sculp¬ 
 tured stones are in heaps in every direction. The road 
 leading up to this old fortress is paved with sculptured 
 remains. The walls are composed of odd fragments. 
 Temples are built of the remains of still older temples, 
 making a confusion from which it would take a very long 
 time to make out order, and trace the origin and history 
 of all the varied sculptures and designs. Cheetore was 
 the ancient capital of the Rajpoot tribe of Mewar, whose 
 royal family trace their descent to the God Rama. The 
 Rajpoots at one time represented the chivalry of India, 
 and their history is full of the noblest deeds; and nowhere 
 did those deeds assume a grander form than they did at 
 Cheetore. The defence of that city by the Rajpoots 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 14=3 
 
 against the invading Mahommedans is a history which any 
 nation might he proud of. The history of this people, and 
 the ruins of Cheetore, point in India to the same law 
 which holds good all over the world;—that greatness in 
 arms and greatness in art go together; that it is only 
 those who can do noble deeds who can produce noble 
 works. 
 
 The first building which strikes the visitor when he 
 begins to look around him is the Tower of Victory, built 
 by the Rana Khoombo, in the fifteenth century. It is 122 
 feet high, and composed of nine stories; it is one vast 
 mass of sculptured details, and contains the whole of the 
 Hindoo mythology. It is carved inside and out. The 
 white dome on the top must he, I think, a Mahommedan 
 addition, or an alteration. I was very much struck with 
 the size and quantity of work on this building; but still 
 I was finding fragments of sculpture about my feet which 
 were far better than those on the tower. This indicated a 
 falling off from the earlier period; and at last I got a 
 perfect confirmation of this in a smaller tower, said to be 
 built about the year 896, 400 years earlier. This tower 
 is only 75 feet high, and is of Jain origin, being dedicated 
 to Adnath, the first of the twenty-four Jain pontiffs. That 
 it is a Jain building is indicated at once by the full-length 
 figure in reddish stone. My sketch of this beautiful 
 work is very imperfect, the details being only here and 
 there suggested. It was only when I was about to leave 
 that I found out this tower; so my time was of the 
 shortest, or I would have made drawings of a good many 
 of its details, which were of the most perfect work, done 
 with the most remarkable precision of execution. I had 
 seen the most of the forms and designs in other temples 
 about India; hut when I looked upon this tower, they all 
 seemed but rude blundering copies, of which this might 
 he taken as the original standard of excellence. It is 
 always interesting to determine when any style was at its 
 best. Now, I feel that my knowledge of the Northern 
 Hindoo is not sufficient to justify any conclusion. All I 
 can say is, that this piece of ninth-century work is by far 
 the best I have ever seen. This smaller tower has much 
 more variety in its general design than the more modern 
 tower, which is almost a series of repetitions all the way 
 up ; but it is in the exquisite details of the ornament that 
 the Jain tower excels. There is one noble ornament com¬ 
 posed of elephants in action. I do feel sorry that I had 
 not time to make out a few of these details. One of the 
 most common decorations is that of a diamond within an 
 upright parallelogram: this often forms the ornament of 
 a plinth running all round a building; and although very 
 simple, the effect of it is particularly good. This diamond 
 within a parallelogram is the simple element of a great 
 deal of the Northern Hindoo decoration, and out of it a 
 great variety of ornament is produced. I give you a 
 couple out of many: in one, the diamond becomes a 
 qua trefoil; in the other, you have again the quatrefoil; 
 and in addition, the space between the oblong niches has 
 become a miniature pillar. If you look into some 
 rough details which I have shown of a Jain Temple at 
 Ajmere, you will see it all over them; and you will see 
 
 that on the square part of the pillars at the base it is 
 repeated round all the faces, one large diamond on each, 
 which, from its size, is made into a very important orna¬ 
 ment. You will also see this diamond pattern among the 
 details of the Golden Temple at Benares,—a very modern 
 specimen of Northern Hindoo : here you will find that it 
 is still more enriched than any of the older specimens. 
 Another common ornament of this Northern Hindoo, and 
 one which figures largely at Cheetore, is a kind of half¬ 
 rosette in a semicircle, and a string of heads all round 
 below. This is really a very fine, effective ornament, and 
 very rich in its appearance. The beads which surround 
 the semicircle, I think, have had their origin in some 
 species of jewellery worn at the date when this ornament 
 was begun; for all the figures of that period are sculptured 
 with stripes of beads hanging about them, just like this 
 feature of the ornament. Their shape would suggest that 
 they might be pearls, which is not unlikely in India; and 
 the rosette may have been derived from some jewelled 
 original also. There are varieties of this ornament, as 
 there are of all those in India : in fact, there are a set of 
 types which contain nearly all the ornament of the 
 country; and if one had these, they could be all easily 
 arranged and classified. I feel certain that, with time, I 
 could have done this; and I think, from what I am showing 
 you, that it would only he a matter of time and so much 
 industry to collect the materials. Of this last ornament 
 I give you a variety. It is a very handsome one: the 
 semicircle is filled up with an elaborate bit of work, and 
 the string of pearls is wanting, but a notched piece runs 
 along the top. This notched pattern is again repeated in 
 a curious design which I copied at Bilsah : it is a series of 
 zigzag squares cut deeply, and lines grooved all along, 
 producing a very simple but pleasing effect. There were 
 also many varieties of this, and I think it is one of the 
 oldest ornaments,—I should say, Buddhist, and of wooden 
 origin; for it has the look about it as if it belonged to 
 that period when ornamentation was produced by cutting 
 notches in a piece of wood. There is one other common 
 ornament in the Cheetore buildings; that is, a row of 
 something which always looked like fantastic grinning 
 heads. I have shown a specimen of it; but it is not a 
 good illustration of the thing. There is another orna¬ 
 ment given which I copied from a temple near Cheetore. 
 I found it always running round the edge of the door of 
 the temple. What surprised me was that so much of 
 that old ornament should look so very like our modern 
 work all over Europe,—in fact, being not unlike Louis 
 Quatorze or Rococo work,—and only requires to be intro¬ 
 duced into a picture-frame of the present time and gilt 
 over, to look like a production of the western world instead 
 of the far-east. In Cheetore and Ajmere, as well as all 
 over Rajpootana, my eye was always meeting Avitli details 
 which pi’oduced a remembrance of something classic. If 
 you minutely inspect my rough details of the Jain Temple 
 at Ajmere, I think this character may be seen in some of 
 them. Now I read lately that Greek workmen did come 
 to Western India in past times, which is not impossible, 
 with the facilities of passage afforded by the Persian Gulf. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 144 
 
 Could it have happened that fragments of Greek art were 
 thus introduced, and grew into those details as we now 
 find them, just as Louis Quatorze and Rococo grew in the 
 West? I should doubt it myself, but I merely suggest it 
 as a contingency which might have happened. I also 
 show an old gate from Cheetore, with a very beautiful 
 pillared bracket. This bracket I have drawn large to 
 show its details better. You will notice that this gate, 
 like many buildings in Cheetore, is built of older frag¬ 
 ments, in which some of the ornaments I have been de¬ 
 scribing are visible. From Oodeypore I show some 
 sketches : one is a very fine bracket; another is a ruined 
 house, showing the bracket capital: this is in the common 
 building of the bazaars. There is also a sketch of the 
 Temple of Juggernath, a fine large building in the northern 
 style; but the large flight of steps and full-sized elephants 
 are, I think, peculiar to Rajpootana, and are very grand 
 in effect. Oodeypore struck me, as I thiuk it does all 
 who have visited it, as being one of the finest cities in the 
 world: this it derives from its position. The city over¬ 
 hangs a lake some miles in extent, on which are one or 
 two islands with summer palaces on them; the largest of 
 which belongs to the Rana. The palace on this island is 
 very beautiful: marble summer-houses, of elaborate de¬ 
 sign, are mixed up with gardens, fountains, tanks, and 
 flowers; making the most fairy-like spot the mind could 
 conceive as belonging to the land of the East. The whole 
 is surrounded by fine mountains, which are rendered doubly 
 picturesque by ruins of towers, crumbling walls, and old 
 temples. This place is out of the usual track : few Euro¬ 
 peans visit it; so it and its ancient predecessor, Cheetore, 
 are little known in comparison with such places as Delhi 
 or Agra. 
 
 The old Jain temple at Ajmere is another of the most 
 interesting of these specimens of Rajpoot architecture. 
 It is believed by the natives to have been built by some 
 kind of fairies in two nights and a half. Todd thinks it 
 dates as far back as 200 b.c. Where a man like Todd 
 speaks, it would be presumptuous in me to doubt; but I 
 feel a difficulty in believing that it dates so very far back. 
 When the Mahommedans got Ajmere they changed this 
 temple into, a mosque, in the same way as they did at old 
 Delhi, by building a large row of pointed arches, which 
 are very elaborately carved: in fact, between ornament 
 and texts from the Koran, there is not a particle of plain 
 space left. The original Jain Temple was a series of 
 domes built on lintels, these lintels again being supported 
 by long pillars. The domes are not constructed on the 
 principle of the arch, but from each course lapping over 
 each other, each course being formed into a circular belt 
 of ornament. The lintels from which the dome rises are 
 in plan an octagon; and you will see the peculiar form of 
 the bracket capital by which these lintels are supported. 
 Also notice how the bracket is carried up to support the 
 first course of the dome, which assumes the sixteen sides, 
 and is so near the circle that the dome rises from it without 
 another break. 
 
 I now come to the architecture of Cashmere, that is, 
 to those important remains of Hindoo buildings of which 
 
 there are a few most interesting specimens; and I think 
 I have exhibited to-night drawings of them all. They are 
 all old, but not so old as I should have expected; ranging 
 from the sixth or seventh century to the eighth or ninth 
 (I am here speaking very roughly about the dates of these 
 buildings ; but a little reference to history—for architec¬ 
 ture is always linked with history—will explain their date). 
 Buddhism began in India about the fifth century b.c., and 
 was the dominant religion of the country for somewhere 
 about a thousand years, when the Brahminical faith began 
 to get the ascendency; and by the sixth or seventh century 
 after Christ the religion of Buddha had ceased to exist on 
 the plains of India. The remnants of the Buddhists who 
 did exist adopted a modified faith, somewhere between 
 Buddhism and Brahminism, and which is to be found in 
 India to the present day. This is the doctrine of the Jains. 
 It would seem that there must have been a fierce contest 
 between the Brahmins and the followers of Buddha at 
 that early date. The Buddhists lived iu monasteries, as 
 they do in Ladak at this day, and in a style as near as 
 can be to that of the same kind of establishment in 
 Europe; and there must have been some Henry VIII. of 
 the period in India who made a good thing of these insti¬ 
 tutions, for they also were rich and royally endowed; 
 the measures used for their suppression must have been of 
 the strongest; for some gentlemen who made explorations 
 at Sarnath, near Benares, found masses of old ruins in a 
 state which nothing but burning could have produced. 
 The principle of “ pulling down the nests, and the rooks 
 would fly away,” seems to have been strictly adhered to; 
 and this may help to account for the scantiness of Budd¬ 
 hist remains in this part of India: and be it remembered, 
 that the neighbourhood of Benares was the place where 
 Buddhism originated, and was more or less its head¬ 
 quarters; of course one would expect to find the most 
 ample remains of their work in such a locality. Accord¬ 
 ing to Colonel Cunninghame’s work, it was after the 
 meeting of the third synod, or convocation of Buddhists, 
 at Patna, on the Ganges, about 241 b.c., that they sent 
 out missionaries for the conversion of the whole “ Hima- 
 lays.” Amongst those sent out was Majyhantiko, whose 
 mission was to Cashmere and Peshawar, where he is said 
 to have ordained 100,000 persons. He was at first opposed 
 by Naga, king of the Aravalo, or Wuler Lake; but he was 
 finally converted, and the “ land glittered with the yellow 
 robes:” such is the phrase by which the triumph of the 
 faith is always expressed. 
 
 I believe there are Buddhist remains in Cashmere, 
 although it was not my fortune to find any of them; but 
 the dates of these Hindoo remains agree with the down¬ 
 fall of Buddhism. They were erected by the Brahminical 
 powers on their ascendency, which they held until the con¬ 
 quest of that country by the Mahommedans, who in their 
 turn treated the Hindoos somewhat in the way they had 
 formerly served the Buddhists. They filled the insides of 
 what were to them temples of idolatry with wood: they 
 heaped up trees on them, and made a grand auto-da-fe as 
 a triumph of the faith of the Prophet. Had it not been 
 for this, these temples, from the massive way they were 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 145 
 
 built, would have been as perfect to-day as they were at 
 the first. The stone was capable of a very high polish; 
 and so perfectly had the great temple at Martund been 
 polished, that it is described as having “ shone like the 
 sun.” Now it is all chipped and fractured in a way which 
 nothing hut burning heat could have produced; making 
 the ornamental details very difficult to make out. It is 
 supposed by some that this temple never had a roof, or 
 that it was made of wood. My own impression is, that 
 from the solid substantial style of the building, and from 
 the completeness of this style in all its parts, they would 
 all be finished alike; and that it must have had a high 
 sloping roof, such as you will see in the drawings of the 
 other Cashmere buildings. The only one of these build¬ 
 ings which has not been destroyed by fire is a very small 
 temple at Pa Yetsh. It is said to have been damaged by 
 an earthquake, which has shook the large terminal stone 
 of the roof out of its exact position. The style of all 
 these buildings is very peculiar, quite unlike anything else 
 in India. Instead of being like the architecture of India, 
 your first impression is that it is Gothic. This is from the 
 high pediments and the spire-like roofs and general con¬ 
 structive appearance; but a little closer inspection shows 
 a stilted arch, which is more Saracenic than according to 
 our usual ideas of Gothic. A still closer inspection reveals 
 a mass of mouldings and details which, if not Classic, 
 can leave no doubt on the mind that they have been de¬ 
 rived from that source. There is one sketch of some de¬ 
 tails which I did at Martund, which is a very remarkable 
 illustration of this Greek or Classic character. Were I, 
 in a general company, to throw down that sketch, and say 
 that it was a sketch in Athens; unless it was minutely 
 inspected, the statement would not be likely to be contra¬ 
 dicted ; and, if the stilted arch with the high pediment 
 over it were covered up, it would require a man well up in 
 architectural details to find out that my statement could 
 not be correct. The column in that sketch which looks 
 so like the Doric has not got the flutes the same. They 
 were a little hollowed out; but so very little, that I think 
 they were intended for flat surfaces. In this I am con¬ 
 firmed by a fragment of a very large pillar in old Srinug- 
 ger, of which I exhibit a sketch. There the flutes are 
 perfectly flat. This pillar has been surmounted by four 
 female heads and arms, portions of the arms being still 
 visible. It is, I should guess, about six or seven feet in 
 diameter. Old Srinugger has suffered in the same manner 
 as most old cities with a new city growing up beside it 
 
 _it supplies the place of a quarry. All along the side of 
 
 the hills you can see where the old city stood; but there 
 is little of it left; but what it was like may perhaps be 
 indicated by that fragment of a pillar and another fragment 
 of a colossal statue, of which only the lower part remains; 
 and occupying a very conspicuous part in the tomb of a 
 departed Mussulman, I found the capital of a column, of 
 which I show you a sketch, and from it you may form an 
 idea of their power of decoration. I take them to be 
 Brahmah’s ducks, which I ought to mention is a favourite 
 ornament of the Hindoos all over India; and, as grapes 
 grow in the valley of Cashmere, I think that is what they 
 5 
 
 are represented as feeding upon. The capitals of the little 
 temple at Pa Yetsh I found were the same as this. The 
 temple called Pandrenton, at Old Srinugger, is in the 
 middle of a tank. The tank is now a mass of duckweed 
 and stuff through which snakes glide about, so I could 
 not get near enough to make out the details. There are 
 two temples at Puttun; and you can see, by comparing 
 them with the figure introduced, the large size of the 
 blocks used to build them; and if you look to the base of 
 the pillars you will see how very Greek they are iu form. 
 In a gutter in the village of Puttun I found the capital 
 of a pillar. I also submit a sketch of it. It looks mar¬ 
 vellously like the Ionic scroll; but it may only be the turn 
 of the Hindoo bracket a little elongated. I also submit 
 some details of a building which is now “ Classic.” It is 
 that described by Moore as the last scene of “Lalla 
 Rookh.” This is a Mahommedan work, and may date 
 about the time of Akbar, about the middle of the sixteenth 
 century. The pillars are of a beautiful black porphyry, 
 and said to have belonged to a still older Hindoo temple. 
 Here Noormahal is supposed to have sung her song,— 
 
 If there’s an elysium on earth it is this ! it is this ! 
 
 While I was there some enthusiastic admirers of Lalla 
 Rookh ” tried to realize the days of Noormahal, by getting 
 the Shalimar illuminated and all the fountains playing. 
 The best dancing-girls and musicians were hired for the 
 occasion, and where Noormahal sang they performed; 
 and as the east is so stationary in its manners and customs, 
 I suppose this “ get up ” must have been as like the real 
 event as need be. One thing I can_ safely say, it did not 
 look like the nineteenth century. 
 
 While on the architecture of Cashmere I have one other 
 sketch to allude to, that is, the Manikiala Tope. This is 
 not in Cashmere, but in the Punjaub, near Rawul Pindee, 
 between the Jheelum and the Indus, and within sight of 
 the Pirpanjal range, which separates Cashmere from the 
 plains. This is on the route by which Alexander passed, 
 and not far from where he had the great battle with Porus, 
 at the Jheelum; and here again there are clear remains of 
 Greek art. This tope looks as you approach it like a very 
 gigantic plum-pudding; but as you near it, mouldings 
 and pilasters begin to be visible. The most of the outer 
 facing of stone has tumbled off, and the lower range of 
 pilasters which formed the base of the building are covered 
 up. These are only visible at the spot where I suppose 
 General Ventura opened it; and from this side I have 
 made my very rough sketch. All the capitals of these 
 pilasters are so decayed by time, that it requires close 
 inspection to make out what they have been. But no 
 doubt was left in my mind that they are Greek, of the 
 Corinthian order. I have given drawings of two of them; 
 and if that is not enough, there is a hastily-done section 
 of the frieze, which I think establishes the Classic cha¬ 
 racter itself. I did not see any of the topes in this loca¬ 
 lity or Peshawur; but details of them would he very 
 valuable, to throw light on this as well as the architecture 
 of Cashmere. 
 
 I come now to the last style in which anything worthy 
 of the name of architecture has been produced in India : 
 
 u 
 
HO 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 this is the Mahommedan; and I naturally turn to Old 
 Delhi, where the Mussulman manifested his supposed 
 superiority over the Hindoo by eclipsing the temple by a 
 mosque which would surpass the Hindoo work by its size 
 as well as the beauty of its decoration. That the Mussul¬ 
 mans have eclipsed what is left of the Hindoo work at 
 that spot, I think there can be no question ; hut that they 
 beat every other effort of the Hindoo, my remarks on 
 Cheetore will show you that I am not so certain. 
 
 There are rival claims between the Hindoos and Ma- 
 liommedans about the Kootub Minar; but after I had 
 become acquainted with the details of the Hindoo style, 
 the question seemed very clear. At the time when the 
 Mahommedans built the Kootub, they had not the work¬ 
 men necessary for such a work; and, of course, employed 
 the men of the country, just as we do at the present day. 
 These men did not know the style of their employers; 
 and what was more natural than that each man should 
 just work as he had been accustomed to? And so we find 
 that these buildings, although Mahommedan in general 
 design, are almost all Hindoo in their decorative details. 
 Even the bell, which is so thoroughly Hindoo, is to he 
 found on the Kootub Minar itself. Even the great arch 
 is not built as an arch, but in the only way in which the 
 Hindoo was accustomed to produce such a thing. These 
 Hindoo details do not make Hindoo buildings; they only 
 show how few workmen the Mahommedans brought at 
 first, when they could not get an arch constructed, and 
 when they permitted such an idolatrous emblem as the 
 hell to appear on their mosque. The latter buildings show 
 more of the Mahommedan style of decoration; and at 
 last, as they increase in the country, we almost find the 
 Hindoo ornamentation disappear; and the next change 
 which took place was the Mussulman’s adopting a great 
 many features of the Hindoo construction, ornamenting 
 all with their own beautiful tracery and geometrical fret¬ 
 work. This lasted till the time of Shah Jehan, when 
 European art first makes its appearance; and from the 
 influence of which the native art got completely ruined, 
 and, as I believe, nothing that was worthy rose to supply 
 its place. You find there a still more wretched history 
 than the history of the revival of Classic art in Europe. 
 It produced the complete extinction of native taste, and 
 the extinction of all endeavours to use that taste for the 
 production of the beautiful, which I believe all possess, 
 and all could manifest. At the present moment architec¬ 
 ture is a blank in India ; and if they had the task assigned 
 them of producing a great memorial at the present day, 
 I fear they would be in about as great a fix as ourselves. 
 
 My estimation of the best period of Mahommedan archi¬ 
 tecture in India is about the fourteenth century. About 
 the end of the fourteenth century there was a shah called 
 “ Feroze the Architect;” and in the Poorana Keela, one 
 of the old Delliis, which is also called “ Feroze Shah-a- 
 bad,” there is an old mosque, which I should call the 
 finest mosque in India; and there is no other specimen of 
 Mahommedan work to compare to this, unless it be some 
 of the old fragments about Old Delhi, one of which is a 
 tomb at the foot of the Kootub Minar, the date of which 
 
 I do not exactly know, but I think it is older than the 
 mosque, for it has a good deal of Hindoo details on it. 
 The mosque is principally composed of the red stone of 
 which all the buildings of Delhi and Agra are constructed; 
 but it is varied with white and black marble. This build¬ 
 ing is not so well known as the other sights of Delhi, so a 
 visitor is not so likely to see it; but it has only to be seen, 
 
 I think, to be appreciated. From this period there is 
 little to notice till you come down to Akbar’s time,—a 
 name evidently the greatest that India ever produced, and 
 a man who left his mark on that country more than any 
 other man. From Delhi to Cashmere there are serais, or 
 caravanserais, which he built: from Agra to Ajmere, in 
 Rajpootana, there are remains of his; and the house I 
 slept in, in Ajmere, I was told Akbar built. He had three 
 wives—a Mahommedan, a Hindoo, and a Christian; and 
 besides combining the different religions in his domestic 
 arrangements, he formed a sort of eclectic system, com¬ 
 bining the good qualities of Mahommedism, Hindooism, 
 and Christianity, as well as other Eastern faiths. But the 
 sectarianism of the times was too much for his good in¬ 
 tentions. If the religions of the period, however, could 
 not be combined, we find that the architecture of that 
 period was the point when the Mahommedan had com¬ 
 bined with it, to the greatest extent, all the principal 
 constructive features of the Hindoo. And Akbar’s palace 
 at Futtelipore Sicri may be taken as the representative 
 building of this period. 
 
 I have submitted to you to-night some sketches of 
 Futtehpore Sicri: one is the Hall of Audience; in it is a 
 very beautiful pillar, covered all over with tracery, with a 
 huge capital formed of a series of Hindoo brackets. On the 
 top Akbar used to sit and administer his affairs. A stone 
 slab serves as a passage to each corner of the building, 
 where sat his four ministers,—one for east, west, north, 
 and south; and they had these districts of Akbar’s 
 dominion under their control. You will see that the con¬ 
 struction of this building is wholly Plindoo, for there are 
 no arches in it. The roof is of stone, and built in a 
 peculiar way, of which I can give you no other infor¬ 
 mation beyond what is seen in the sketch. All I can say 
 is, that the lines there represent slabs of stone. But 
 there is another roof, of which I submit a sketch: it is of 
 the same period, and belongs to Akbar’s palace at Agra. 
 In it you will notice that the roof is formed of slabs of 
 stone; and to get support a bracket is introduced more of 
 the character of a flying buttress, if one might try to 
 express it by that name ; for I have never seen a thing of 
 the same character out of India, where it is found in wood 
 as well as stone. It is one of the main features of Bom¬ 
 bay street architecture of the present day. I submit a 
 drawing from which you will see this. One of the great 
 features of Futtehpore Sicri is the great gate : it is the 
 largest in India, if not the world : it is built of red and 
 buff sandstone, with white and black marble introduced. 
 My drawing is in rather acute perspective to let the front 
 be well seen. I selected the point as being that best for a 
 picture, as it gave me a large wall and some fine Mahom¬ 
 medan capitals to make a good foreground. Within the 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE YICTORTAN AGE. 
 
 147 
 
 gate is the tomb of a Mahommedan saint, called Slieikli 
 Saleem Shisty: tliis is built of white marble; but the 
 main feature of it in an architectural point of view is the 
 peculiar bracket, the tracery in each bracket being diffe¬ 
 rent. This is again Mahommedan decoration on Hindoo 
 construction. 
 
 The little that remains of Jehangeer, the son and suc¬ 
 cessor of Akbar, is not much, and it is inferior. 
 
 The buildings of Shah Jelian, the next emperor, are, of 
 all Indian architecture, in the most perfect state of pre¬ 
 servation ; but then they are only about 200 years old. 
 They include part of the fort at Agra, the Jumma Musjid 
 and fort at Delhi, the Mottee Musjid at Agra; but the 
 most renowned of all is the Taj Mahal at Agra. This is 
 composed neai’ly all of white marble, and inlaid with 
 precious stones. It is in this reign that we get the first 
 introduction of European art: it is only to be found in 
 the ornament, and, perhaps, in a tendency in the mould¬ 
 ings to European models. Of course European workmen 
 were not introduced: all that the native workmen had 
 could only have been the designs of the European archi¬ 
 tect to work from. This may account for the bad way in 
 which the ornament is produced; for it was a new style, 
 and not properly understood by the workmen; and I 
 should say in addition, that the designs themselves were 
 anything but good ; so that the first thing which offends 
 the eye accustomed to good ornamentation is the very bad 
 stuff which is on this much-vaunted building. It is of 
 the most tawdry description. But this applies to every 
 feature of the building, and of all those of the date of 
 Shah Jehan. They show every indication of a fictitious 
 style,—where parts are put up without meaning ; where 
 you find that, instead of the production of real beauty, 
 the eye is attempted to be imposed on by pretensions of 
 the lowest kind. European art once introduced, it soon 
 spreads; and we soon find it mixed up with the native, 
 and assuming a character which is, I think, peculiar to 
 India. Lucknow may be taken as the representative 
 specimen of this period; but to call it architecture would 
 be a questionable use of words. If you wanted to pro¬ 
 duce a caricature of European architecture as it has been 
 since the revival of Classic models, I feel certain that the 
 best efforts would fall far short of the gross caricatures 
 you would already find existing in the metropolis of Oude. 
 As to our efforts in the way of architecture in India, I 
 fear little can be said. We have added the title of the 
 “ City of Palaces” to Calcutta; but if the change which 
 is at work at home goes on in our ideas and practice in 
 architecture, I fear the “ City of Palaces” will require a 
 new and less high-flown phrase by which to express its 
 real character. 
 
 In some of our large stations new churches have been 
 lately built which are avast improvement on older efforts; 
 and India is now so close to England in point of time, 
 that whatever improvements take place here will soon be 
 indicated there; and I believe that a complete change is 
 taking place for the better among ourselves; and that the 
 day is not far distant when better deeds will be done; and 
 that we will, as a great nation, be able to leave some 
 worthy memorial of our power to the future. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 OCEAN MARINE INSURANCE OFFICES, 
 
 OLD BROAD-STREET. 
 
 Plates I. & II. 
 
 The building which is represented in these Plates is one of the many- 
 magnificent stone edifices with which the city of London is now being 
 adorned. The object in these erections seems to be to secure elegance 
 of design with the utmost facility for business purposes. The outlay 
 of capital is necessarily very great; but in return the proprietors realize 
 enormous rents, and the structures are so solid and substantial, that 
 they are calculated to last for many generations. 
 
 In the construction of the Ocean Marine Insurance Offices, the 
 architect, Mr. Bell, seems to have made the most of every inch of the 
 limited space at his disposal, whilst the front is bold, commanding, 
 and ornate. The ornamental details are artistically conceived and 
 well executed. It is, in our estimation, a fine combination of artistic 
 taste and commercial enterprise, and we can only hope that Mr. Bell 
 may have many opportunities of adorning our streets with similar 
 chaste and elegant buildings. 
 
 HOUSE AND SHOP, NO. 26, SOUTH AUDLEY-STREET, 
 GROSVENOR-SQUARE. 
 
 Plate III. 
 
 This building is erected upon a site measuring on the ground-floor 
 60 feet in depth by an uniform width of 17 feet 6 inches. The street- 
 front is constructed of white, yellow, and red bricks, with tile courses 
 for borders, and some stone and iron work. The design is an original 
 conception of the Architect; and the entire edifice, with all its details, 
 both of the interior and the exterior, is to be regarded as an early 
 exemplification of the principles set forth by the Architect in his pam¬ 
 phlet entitled “ Victorian Architecture.” It must be added, that, in 
 consequence of the outlay being restricted within fixed limits, simplicity 
 of treatment was necessary: accordingly, the Architect states that it 
 was his aim, as far as possible, to “ make the construction the vehicle 
 of ornamentation, by which means much expense might be saved, a 
 novelty of effect might be produced, and all shams avoided.” 
 
 In addition to the domestic offices, the basement contains a spacious 
 ware-room. The ground-floor consists of a shop, a chemist’s, in height 
 9 feet 9 inches, a lavatory, a private consulting-room, two store-rooms, 
 the staircase, and a corridor leading to the dining-room, 17 feet 
 6 inches by 13 feet, which is at the back of all, and is lighted from 
 above. The mezzanine-floor, in height 7 feet 6 inches, comprises a 
 morning-room and two bed-rooms. Above these rooms is the drawing¬ 
 room, 20 feet by 17 feet 6 inches, and 11 feet high; also a lobby, 
 from which the upper staircase ascends, and a nursery at the back. 
 The next floor contains three bed-rooms, 9 feet high, with a house¬ 
 maid’s closet. Over all these are a spacious attic and a large lumber- 
 loft, having a door of exit to the adjoining flat. There are also, in a 
 wing building, two other bed-rooms. 
 
 The shop-front has a recessed central entrance with folding doors 
 between two large windows. On the level of the shop-ceiling the 
 entire front of the building is carried upon a wrought-iron plate girder, 
 resting at each end upon a stone pier, assisted by the two iron pillars 
 which divide the front into three bays. The piers are constructed of 
 Bath stone, and are carried up above the girder, where they are 
 weathered off to the front wall: but the iron pillars stand upon Port¬ 
 land stone plinths in the recessed doorway, having screwed to them 
 vertically angle-fillets of iron, to which the door-frame and window- 
 sashes are fixed without any casing or boxing. The doors which, 
 with all the wood-work of the shop-front, are of polished mahogany 
 fitted with plate-glass, are hung on swinging hinges. Iron shutters, 
 an awning, and a gutter connected with lateral down-pipes, are intro¬ 
 duced into the composition, and they render the shop-front complete, 
 while their arrangement enhances its general effectiveness The area 
 is protected by decorative iron-work. The girder, the columns, and 
 other parts of the iron-work are painted dark blue relieved by gilding; 
 the area-railing, Ac., are bronze green ; and the shutters are japanned 
 of a russet colour. 
 
 Below the central window of the mezzanine-floor, and in the span¬ 
 drels of its arched light, are openings for ventilation. The arrange¬ 
 ment of the three windows which light this floor, and the decorative 
 
 u 2 
 
148 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 construction, are clearly shown in the lithograph, Plate Til. The 
 same may be said of the two large windows that light the drawing¬ 
 room, with their boldly projecting stone balcony and its iron railing. 
 It will be observed that the piers of these windows have a projection 
 from the plane of the front of 4| inches, in order to give greater space 
 for the inside shutters, and thus to avoid the necessity for boxings in 
 the room. The horse-shoe arches of the windows are constructed ol 
 moulded bricks, enclosing sunk stone slabs decorated with carved trefoil 
 panels. The triangular aperture between these two window-arches is 
 for ventilation. The two upper windows are of brickwork, with 
 stone lintels over their central compartments, the whole being sur¬ 
 mounted by interlacing arches with two iron ventilators. The project¬ 
 ing stonework of the parapet is carried by courses of brick dog-tooth 
 and cut ridging tiles. The roof, which is curbed in front and covered 
 with slates, is pierced by a splayed dormer-window. The chimney- 
 stack is of coloured bricks with stone cappings. The down rain-pipe, 
 painted light blue with russet clips, is carried down one side ot the 
 front. The lower balcony is also light blue. The upper balcony iron¬ 
 work is bronze green, with russet top rail, and the sashes and frames 
 of the windows are wainscot in two tints, the putties being light blue. 
 
 In the interior, the ceiling of the shop exhibits the moulded wood 
 work of its framing, and both the constructive details and the fittings 
 of every kind are rendered in keeping with the general design. The 
 same originality of treatment, combined with careful attention to the 
 consistent adaptation of the several details to their appropriate duties, 
 prevails throughout every apartment, and the shop and the several 
 rooms appear very happily suited to the purposes for which they have 
 been constructed. We desire to notice, as deserving particular com¬ 
 mendation, the doors, window-frames, and other interior woodwork, 
 which are executed in the most satisfactory manner in varnished deal. 
 
 The Architect was Thomas Harris, Esq., of Charles-street, Berkeley- 
 square, and the works were executed by Mr. John Hall, of Queen Anne- 
 street, London. The total cost did not exceed 1800Z. 
 
 TERMINUS HOTEL, LONDON BRIDGE. 
 
 Plate IV. 
 
 In this plate we give a simple view of the upper part of the south¬ 
 east angle of the London Bridge Hotel, and also some details of the 
 interior decorations of the Coffee Room. This is one of the most mag¬ 
 nificent rooms in London, but we must defer a full description of the 
 building until a future number, when we shall devote a paper to the 
 Railway Hotels of London. 
 
 THE LATE MR. L’ESTRANGE, OF HUNSTANTON HALL, 
 
 NORFOLK. 
 
 On Monday, the 4th of August, the grave closed over the remains of 
 one of the most accomplished amateur artists of the day—a wealthy 
 country gentleman of knightly and even noble family, who had earned 
 no inconsiderable reputation in artistic and ecclesiastical circles for the 
 zeal and ability with which he had set himself to utilize his undoubted 
 talents in a manner which specially commended itself to his thoroughly 
 religious disposition. It is sad to think that so noble-hearted a man 
 should be so prematurely cut off in the midst of a career which was 
 yearly becoming more and more distinguished. Mr. Butterfield’s brief 
 letter in the Guardian about him is so vague and insufficient, that a 
 larger notice may not be unacceptable to the readers of this periodical. 
 
 Henry L’Estrange Styleman L’Estrange, of Hunstanton and Snet- 
 tisham, Norfolk, at one time co-heir to the Baronies of Hastings and 
 Camoys, was born on the 25th of January, 1815, and was the only 
 son of Mr. Henry Styleman, of Snettisham, by his second wife, Emilia, 
 daughter of Mr. Benjamin Preedy, of St. Albans. He was educated 
 at Eton school, and graduated B.A. of Christchurch, Oxford, in 1836 
 (when he took a fourth class in mathematics), proceeding M.A. in 
 1839. In 1839 he resumed the old family name of L’Estrange, and 
 (July 25th) married Jamesina Joyce Ellen, daughter of Mr. J. Stewart, 
 of Belladrum, Inverness-shire, by whom he leaves a family. His eldest 
 son, Hamon, now of Hunstanton, born November 25th, 1840, was 
 educated at Eton and Christchurch, Oxford, graduating B.A. in 1861. 
 
 Mr. L’Estrange was a Conservative and a High Churchman. With 
 politics he rarely meddled, but into the Church movement of the last 
 thirty years he threw himself with characteristic heartiness and fer¬ 
 vour ; at the same time he was thoroughly loyal to the Church, as 
 
 became an honourable English gentleman, and set his face steadily 
 against all Romanizing tendencies. Painting and architecture were 
 his delight from an early age, and Christian art was his chief occupa¬ 
 tion till his premature death on the 27th of July. He knew tho¬ 
 roughly, and had patiently and accurately copied, the noble religious 
 pictures in the British Museum and other collections; chiefly devoting 
 his admiration to the scriptural works of the eleventh and two follow¬ 
 ing centuries. Practically, Mr. L’Estrange was one of the ablest and 
 most successful of amateur ecclesiastical artists. Did ever any one 
 hear of a Norfolk squire, with a heavy rent-roll, in the prime of life, 
 blessed with a family and everything that could make squirearchical 
 existence enjoyable, leaving his country seat and perching himself up 
 in working-man’s dress under a cathedral ceiling, to embellish it for 
 God’s honour and glory ? Yet Mr. L’Estrange did this. Though he 
 was not connected with Cambridgeshire, being a Norfolk man ; though 
 he had nothing to do with Cambridge University, being an Oxford 
 man, he devoted his time and talents for a long period to the painting, 
 with his own hands, of the ceiling of the tower and a considerable 
 portion of the nave in Ely Cathedral. The paintings on the Tower 
 represent the Creation ; those of the nave, the Genealogy of our Lord. 
 The ablest artists of the day speak with delight of them. Of late, 
 Mr. L’Estrange had been engaged on ten uncoloured full-sized car¬ 
 toons for the east wall of the new church of St. Alban, Baldwin’s 
 Gardens, Holborn, built at the cost of Mr. J. G. Hubbard, M.P. These 
 cartoons represent passages in the life and ministry of our blessed 
 Lord, from the Annunciation to the Day of Pentecost. They would 
 have been painted on the wall by Mr. L’Estrange himself, had not a 
 premature and terribly sudden death taken him from us, at the early 
 age of forty-seven. Not very long ago the Government appointed 
 him, with Sir Coutts Lindsay and others, a member of the Commission 
 for inquiring into the state of the frescoes of the Houses of Parlia¬ 
 ment. 
 
 A few words on the genealogy of this noble-hearted gentleman may 
 fitly conclude this notice. Sir W. Dugdale, in his “ Baronage of 
 England,” says that at a great joust or tournament, held at Castle 
 Peverel, in the Peak of Derbyshire, between Owen, Prince of Wales, 
 and the son of the King of Scots, the two sons of the Duke of Bre- 
 taign were present; on the younger of whom, Guy, was conferred the 
 surname of L’Estrange (the foreigner). On the partition of the 
 estates of Hugh de Albini, Earl of Arundel, in 1243, Joan L’Estrange, 
 daughter of Nicolai de Somerie, second sister of the last Earl, took 
 Hunstanton. For generations the house of L’Estrange was a knightly 
 one; and at length a Sir Nicholas, of Hunstanton, was created a 
 baronet on the 1st of June, 1629. The eldest daughter (Armine) of 
 the third baronet married Mr. Nicholas Styleman ; and the mother of 
 this lady, Ann Wodehouse, was descended on the father’s side (through 
 the Brothertons, Mowbrays, and Howards, Dukes of Norfolk) from 
 Edward I., King of England, by his second wife, Margaret, daughter 
 of Philip III., King of France. Up to 1839 and 1841, the late Mr. 
 L’Estrange was co-heir of the ancient baronies of Camoys and Hastings, 
 now called out of abeyance. C. B. B. 
 
 PETROLEUM—OIL WELLS OF SMITH’S FERRY—ALLE¬ 
 GHANY OIL BOATS. 
 
 (From the “ Scientific American.’’) 
 
 A new branch of national industry has sprung up within the past two 
 years, which promises to become both great and profitable—we mean 
 that of petroleum, or rock oil. The export trade in this substance has 
 already attained to vast dimensions. From the 1st of January last to 
 the 23rd of June, no less than 2,961,317 gallons were exported from 
 New York; 1,095,826 from Philadelphia; 190,512 from Boston, and 
 36,530 from Baltimore, making a total of 4,284,185 gallons. These 
 native oils were forwarded to almost every country on the face of the 
 globe, but England is our best single customer, as about 2,000,000 
 gallons were sent to British ports. One merchant in Liverpool, who 
 has imported largely, states that Great Britain alone can absorb 
 1,000,000 barrels (42,000,000 gallons) per annum. When we reflect 
 that this business is but in its infancy, the large quantity which has 
 already been exported is perfectly surprising. It is believed that the 
 United States and Canada possess natural supplies of petroleum to 
 furnish the rest of the world for ages to come, with sufficient quan¬ 
 tities of oil to yield all the artificial light required, and perhaps much 
 of the fuel also—as it can, and will, undoubtedly, yet be much used 
 for the latter purpose. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 149 
 
 The petroleum region embraces a vast extent of our continent. It 
 is known to extend from the southern extremity of the Ohio valley 
 north to the Georgian Bay in Canada West, and from the Alleghanies 
 east in Pennsylvania to the western limits of the bituminous coal 
 fields. It has been found in Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New 
 York, Ohio, Michigan, Kentucky, Tennessee, Kansas, Illinois, Texas, 
 and in California. Oil wells, however, have been sunk in but a few 
 localities as yet, and in some of these the original wells have been 
 abandoned, on account of new and more copious supplies being ob¬ 
 tained at less expense in other sections. In proceeding up the banks 
 of the Ohio river, a derrick about 12 ft. in height, and a small shanty 
 beside it, with a rusty stove-pipe stuck in its roof, is occasionally 
 noticed. These are deserted pumping oil wells, and at Smith’s Ferry, 
 about forty-one miles below Pittsburgh, there is a whole cluster of such 
 wells, all stopped but two. The pumping apparatus of each is very simple. 
 It consists of a small horizontal engine connected by its pitman to a 
 crank, which gives motion to a vibrating wooden beam, one end of 
 which is attached to the vertical pump-rod in the well, which thereby 
 receives a reciprocating motion that operates the pump-plunger and 
 lifts the oil. A rude derrick, a rough shanty, a small steam-engine, 
 a pump, a few barrels and tubs, constitute the apparatus and utensils 
 required for operating any of these oil wells. Such wells may be seen 
 on both sides of the Ohio and Alleghany rivers, and occasionally on 
 some of the little islands. They were mostly sunk before the flowing 
 deep petroleum wells in the Oil Creek region, Pennsylvania, were dis¬ 
 covered. Bore anywhere adjacent to the Ohio river for a few hundred 
 feet, and earth oil is reached. We have noticed a coat of this oil 
 covering the surface of the river for a distance of seventy miles. 
 When the sunbeams shine upon the ripples, it reflects the prismatic 
 hues in beautiful green, crimson, and orange. It no doubt assists to 
 lubricate the bottoms of the quaint-looking flat boats which run on the 
 Alleghany, Monongahela, and the Ohio rivers. The pumping wells 
 are generally suspended at present, because the oil oannot be raised 
 from them by steam power so cheaply as it can be obtained from flowing 
 wells. But the oil obtained from the pumping wells at Smith’s Ferry 
 is of no common quality. It is almost as clear as refined petroleum, 
 and it can be burned in lamps exactly as it is raised from the well. 
 We have seen a mixture of one half of this oil and an equal quantity 
 of crude petroleum burn very well in a lamp. It resembled common 
 whale oil. It is heavier than the refined petroleum, and is safe to 
 carry and use. Only a few barrels per day, however, are obtained from 
 single wells, or perhaps they might be operated with profit. 
 
 The petroleum wharf at Pittsburgh, on the Alleghany river, is a 
 greasy sight of an uncommon character. It is covered for half a mile 
 with barrels of petroleum that have come down the river in boats from 
 the Oil Creek region. A large number of flat boats are also generally 
 lying at the wharf, some of which are discharging their green oily 
 cargoes. These vessels are queer-looking structures, being simply 
 large boxes made of plank, and divided into cells forming tanks, which 
 are made as tight as practicable. They are filled at the oil wells, then 
 closed, and about from twelve to twenty of them are formed into a 
 fleet and floated down the Alleghany river. Some boats carry the 
 petroleum in barrels, but a large number are simply floating oil-boxes. 
 This part of Pittsburgh is redolent with the exquisite odour of Penn¬ 
 sylvanian subterranean Eau de Cologne. Refined petroleum may be 
 obtained in Pittsburgh in large quantities for sixteen cents and upwards 
 per gallon. This burning fluid affords the cheapest known artificial 
 light, and its use has spread from Maine to California, and it is now 
 almost exclusively burned away up in the Lake Superior regions. 
 While it can be obtained at such low prioes, it will be used as an agent 
 of artificial illumination to the exclusion of all the more expensive agents 
 of light, with the exception of coal-gas. 
 
 Different opinions exist respecting the source of petroleum. Prof. 
 Silliman states that it is of vegetable origin, and was produced by the 
 agency of subterranean heat. This is a very general but unsatisfactory 
 opinion. Geologists most generally believe it to be derived from bitumi¬ 
 nous shales situated below the coal formations. It is commonly found 
 in the American rocks called the Portage and Chemung Group. This 
 group of rocks is of immense thickness on some parts of our continent, 
 being no less than 4900 feet thick in Michigan. The bituminous 
 shales called Utica Slates have yielded large quantities of oil in Canada 
 by distillation, and the spouting petroleum wells of Enniskillen are in 
 this formation. But petroleum is not always found in this class of 
 rocks, as no oil has been found in various parts of New York State, 
 where these rocks have been bored to a great depth. 
 
 Many practical men in the Alleghany and Ohio valleys believe that 
 
 petroleum has its origin in coal beds. They assert that a low heat 
 in the coal seams drives off hydrocarbon vapour, which is condensed in 
 the pores of the rocks and the soil, and is washed by rains into sub¬ 
 terranean recesses, situated at various depths in the rocky strata. Coal 
 is found in all the hills adjacent to the petroleum wells in Pennsyl¬ 
 vania, Ohio, and Virginia. Cannel coal is abundant in the hills within 
 one mile of Oil Creek, Pa. Is it not reasonable to suppose that re¬ 
 servoirs of petroleum must be situated at a considerable height above 
 the level of the ground where all the overflowing wells are pouring 
 out their oily fluids ? In all artesian wells the water rises to the 
 height of the fountain head, and the same law must prevail in petro¬ 
 leum wells. May not the reservoirs of the petroleum spouting wells 
 be situated far above the level of the rocks where the oil is tapped in 
 boring? The proprietor of a petroleum well near Parkersbourg, Va., 
 has assured us that the oil obtained in his well is of the very same 
 character as that derived from the coal in its vicinity by distillation. 
 It is a heavy oil, more unctuous than the common petroleum of Penn¬ 
 sylvania, and it is chiefly used for lubricating machinery. It is well 
 known that oil of different qualities is obtained from different coal 
 beds, and the petroleum of the United States differs in several charac¬ 
 teristics from that of Canada. 
 
 Facts would appear to favour the theory that petroleum wells have 
 two sources of supply—namely, coal beds and bituminous shales. In 
 western Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Virginia, and Kentucky, petro¬ 
 leum is usually found in the vicinity of coal seams, and it was a petro¬ 
 leum well in England, situated close to a coal bed, which suggested to 
 James Young the idea of distilling coal at a low heat and obtaining 
 oil therefrom. The commercial success of his efforts led to the very 
 extended use of such oil, and finally to the very general application of 
 petroleum for light. 
 
 This much may be accepted in favour of coal beds in certain loca¬ 
 lities being the sources of petroleum. On the other hand, petroleum 
 wells are found in Italy, Sicily, Syria, the Crimea, Persia, Siberia, 
 and Canada, very far removed from coal beds, but where there are 
 bituminous shales, and this kind of petroleum differs frequently in 
 several essential features from that which is found in coal regions. 
 The Canadian crude petroleum far surpasses that of Pennsylvania for 
 concentrated stench, and we can easily credit it with a lower, older, 
 and different origin. 
 
 Geologists who adhere to the idea that bituminous shales are ex¬ 
 clusively the source of petroleum, will be pleased to make a distinction 
 between the source of the decent, clear oil obtained at Smith’s Ferry, 
 on the Ohio river, and that found north of the upper lakes. But 
 whatever may be the source of petroleum, and whatever theory 
 may be the most plausible, it must be admitted that we are unac¬ 
 quainted with most of the operations of nature in the interior of the 
 earth. The most important question is, Will not our present sources 
 of petroleum soon become exhausted ? In answer to this, it may be 
 stated that petroleum springs have been known, and the petroleum 
 used to some extent, for thousands of years. Thus, in the island of 
 Zante, in the Mediterranean, there are two springs which have been 
 open many thousand years, and the more rapidly the substance is re¬ 
 moved from the wells, the more powerful and prolific the springs 
 become. If this has been the case with the petroleum springs of 
 Zante, may it not be so with those on our continent ? 
 
 Petroleum, or rock oil, may not always be a proper name for this 
 peculiar substance. It is found in swamps and peat bogs as well as 
 rocky strata. In the swampy forests of Borneo the Dyaks collect 
 petroleum from the surface of ponds, but all the flowing wells in Ame¬ 
 rica have been sunk to a considerable depth in rocky strata. 
 
 THE AGE OF ENGLISH TREES. 
 
 Oaks and yews, the most venerable of our trees, are, in several in¬ 
 stances, so old, that it is difficult to form an estimate of the time which 
 has passed since they were planted. Several oaks felled in Sherwood 
 Forest, about a quarter of a century ago, exposed, on being sawn up, 
 the date 1212, and the mark or cipher of King John ; and it has been 
 calculated that these trees must have been several centuries old at the 
 time the marks were made. It is well known that the oak which is 
 said to have proved fatal 
 
 To that red king, who, while of yore 
 Thro’ Bolder-wood the chase he led, 
 
 By his loved huntsman’s arrow bled, 
 
 was standing, not long since, in the New Forest, in Hampshire: they 
 
150 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 who think this tree insufficient to record a fact of so ancient a date 
 should be reminded that Sir Thomas Dick Lauder says, “ Seven hun¬ 
 dred years make no extraordinary period in the existence of an oak: 
 some oaks blown down in Donnington Park were supposed by the in¬ 
 terior rings to have been nearly 800 years old; and it is supposed, on 
 good authority, that there still exist in England oaks which were in 
 existence at the commencement of the Christian era.” A venerable 
 oak stood not long since at Tormond Wood, in Stirlingshire, under 
 which, tradition says, William Wallace convened his followers. There 
 are vestiges of the ancient Druids in the neighbourhood of this tree, 
 which was 22 feet in circumference. There is another famous Scotch 
 oak called the Wallace Oak, at Elderslie, near the place where Wallace 
 was born. There are other oaks in Great Britain which are probably 
 more than 1000 years old. The most useful age of this tree, for 
 building and other purposes, is from about 50 to 70 years. 
 
 The oldest known elm is said to have been that at Cheequers, Buck¬ 
 inghamshire, and is supposed to have been planted in the reign of 
 King Stephen. The elm does not seem to live so long in the vicinity 
 of towns as in the pure country air. Queen Elizabeth is said to have 
 planted an elm with her own hands at Chelsea: this was felled in 
 1745, and sold for a mere trifle. There are some fine trees of this 
 kind in St. James’s Park and Hyde Park ; many of them have within 
 the last dozen years suffered much by decay, storms of wind, &c. One 
 of the elms planted by Sir Francis Bacon, in the year 1600, in Gray’s 
 Inn, was felled in 1725, in consequence of its commencing to decay : 
 it was then more than 28 feet 6 inches in circumference near the root. 
 The elms in the vicinity of the metropolis are much worm-eaten. 
 
 The mulberry seems to have been chiefly introduced into England 
 by King James I., who was anxious to establish the culture of silk in 
 this country. The king caused 10,000 mulberry plants to be purchased 
 and distributed throughout the country. They were delivered in 
 London at the rate of three farthings each. The mulberry-tree said 
 to have been planted by Shakspeare, in New Place, was felled by the 
 Kev. Francis Gastrell in 1756. Not longer than fifteen or sixteen 
 years ago thei’e were both mulberry-trees and vines growing on the 
 spot which had been used as the garden of the Priory of St. Bartho¬ 
 lomew the Great, Smithfield. 
 
 The horse-chestnut is a native of Northern Asia. Thence it was 
 brought to Constantinople, Vienna, Paris; and it was in the year 1712 
 first introduced into England. This tree is of very quick growth. 
 Plants which have been raised from the nuts have grown to a large 
 size in twelve or fifteen years. 
 
 In the days gone by, before fire-arms had put out of fashion the use 
 of the bow, the culture of the yew was an important matter; but the 
 growth of this tree was very slow, and the demand for wood of a tough, 
 durable, and elastic nature, for bows, was so great, that the home 
 supply of yew wood was found insufficient; and merchants were for 
 a long time obliged by law to import four staves with every ton of 
 goods coming from places where bow-staves could be brought, and ten 
 staves with every butt of Malmsey from Venice. When we consider 
 the very slow growth of the yew, and the large size to which some 
 still in existence have grown, it seems probable that their age is not 
 less than that of some of the famous British oaks. Many have been 
 recorded of the circumference of 26 feet, and there are some even larger 
 than this. In Fotheringale churchyard, in Perthshire, is an old yew, 
 much shattered, and nearly dead, the trunk of which measures 56 feet 
 6 inches in circumference. 
 
 There are in England about fifty varieties of the willow, all of them 
 of rapid growth. The famous weeping willow planted by Pope came 
 from Spain, inclosing a present from Lady Suffolk. When the covering 
 was taken off, the poet observed that the pieces of stick appeared as 
 if they had some vegetation. Under the idea that it might perhaps 
 produce something which we have not in England, he planted one in 
 his garden, and it produced the willow-tree which gave birth to so 
 many others. So rapid is the growth of this tree, that we have no¬ 
 ticed several which have become of large size in about fifteen or twenty 
 years from the time at which they were planted. 
 
 The Scotch fir, the silver fir, the Norway spruce fir—which was 
 first brought to England upwards of a century ago,—the pine, in its 
 various and picturesque forms, are all of rapid growth, and have, by 
 the extent to which they have been planted, added much to the beauty 
 of many parts of England. 
 
 The beautiful beech—which in point of size follows next to the 
 oak and ash, and is found in great perfection in many parts of this 
 country—is useful in the arts and manufactures : the wood is fine 
 and durable, and is the best of any for turning, making toys, wheel¬ 
 
 wrights’ machinery, cabinet-makers’ articles, Tunbridge ware, the piles 
 for the foundations of bridges and other buildings : and, throughout 
 the rural districts, the 
 
 Beech, makes their chests, their beds, and their joined stools: 
 
 Beech makes the board, the platters, and the bowls. 
 
 The hazel, if allowed time to grow, will yield poles 20 feet and up¬ 
 wards in length, which would be useful for various purposes. The 
 tough bending ash gives to the peasant part of the material for his 
 plough, and to the prince important portions of the carriage in which 
 he rides: wheels, palisades, hop poles, tool-handles, walking-sticks, 
 ladders, carts, and a hundred other articles of every-day use, are made 
 of the wood of this tree. 
 
 The thin twigs of the birch were formerly, in connexion with educa¬ 
 tion, more familiar to school-boys than they are at present. The wood 
 of this tree is, however, useful in many other ways. In those parts of 
 the Highlands of Scotland where pine is not to be had, the birch is 
 the timber used for many purposes. The stronger stems are the rafters 
 of the cabin ; wattles of the boughs are the walls and the doors : even 
 chests and boxes are made of it with rude workmanship. With the 
 Highlander it often forms his spade, his plough, cart, and even for 
 the harness, cordage is twisted with the small sprigs. 
 
 The maple, or sycamore, often grows to a large size ; one at Knowle, 
 in Kent, was 12 or 14 feet in girth. The original plantations of Vauxhall 
 and Mary-le-Bone Gardens were chiefly of the great maple. It is not 
 considered to live to a great age; yet some have been noticed at Cam¬ 
 bridge in a flourishing state at the age of 185 years. Before the use 
 of crockery became so general as it is at present, the wood of the 
 maple-tree was common material for bowls and platters. It does not 
 readily warp or splinter: it is therefore employed in making saddle¬ 
 trees, founders’ patterns, &c. 
 
 The common holly, at full growth, is generally from 20 to 30 feet 
 high ; but it has been seen of the extraordinary height of 60 feet. The 
 timber of the holly is very white and compact; it, however, retains 
 the sap, and takes a long time to season. The growth of this tree is 
 very slow; it can be used in the manufacture of what is called Tun¬ 
 bridge ware; for some common kinds of engraving, instead of pear- 
 tree, or box-wood; and, dyed black, it is at times worked by cabinet¬ 
 makers instead of ebony. 
 
 There are several varieties of the lime which seem to stand the 
 smoke, &c., of cities better than other tall-growing trees. It is said 
 that the two first lime-trees which were planted in England (1590) are 
 still growing at Halstead, in Kent. There is, however, much difference 
 of opinion respecting the time of the introduction of this tree. This 
 wood is much used by mould and other carvers. Gibbons, in the 
 time of Charles II., decorated various important buildings with it. 
 Many lime-trees are more than a century old. 
 
 The walnut-tree grows rapidly in England. There is a record of 
 one of these trees growing in Scotland in the year 1684. It was 
 more valuable before the extensive introduction of mahogany and 
 other foreign woods than it is now. During the French war, the 
 great demand for musket and pistol stocks thinned the walnut-trees 
 in this country. At that time so great was the demand for this 
 timber, that a large sound tree has often been sold for 600/.., when cut 
 into gun-stocks. The hawthorn is quick-growing when young; but 
 when left to stand till it becomes a tree, it makes wood very slowly, and 
 lives to a great age. The plane-tree was first introduced into England 
 in 1623. 
 
 The cypress grows to a great age, and, in some cases, to an im¬ 
 mense size. It is l’ecorded that one grew in Persia which was sup¬ 
 posed to be two thousand five hundred years old. The cypress is one 
 of the most durable of woods. 
 
 The crab-apple, pear, and cherry-tree afford closely-grained woods, 
 which are used in several ways, as is the box-wood which grows in 
 England.— Builder. 
 
 New Material for Pavement. —In the Rue Druot, a street op¬ 
 posite the Rue Richelieu, on the Boulevard des Italiens, a powder, of 
 the colour of ground coffee, and smoking hot, is spread down and then 
 beaten, not violently, with a smooth flat iron at the end of a handle. 
 Over the surface so formed a large iron is run hy a man so as to remove 
 all inequalities. In a few minutes, it is said, there is a hard substance 
 resembling asphalte. 
 
 New English Church in Paris. —A new English church is 
 being built in that part of the Rue Roqucpine which is prolonged to 
 the Boulevard Malesherbes. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 151 
 
 THE ORCADIAN BARROW AT MAES-HOWE. 
 
 Tjie interest with which the cell and the runes at Maes-Howe were 
 regarded will be in the recollection of our readers. The runes have 
 now been translated; and Mr. Farrer, the senior member for South 
 Durham, has just got printed for private circulation a “ Notice” of the 
 inscriptions. He had casts taken and drawings made with the 
 greatest care and fidelity; and they were all submitted by him to some 
 of the most celebrated Runic scholars of the age—Professors Rafn, 
 Stephens, and Munch. The result of their examinations (translations) 
 is given in the notice referred to. The origin of Maes-Howe is, of 
 course, most obscure; but it is, nevertheless, alluded to in the inscrip¬ 
 tions, which, as was known, were less ancient in origin. “ This 
 barrow,” says one of the Runes, “ was formerly a sorcery hall, 
 erected for Lodbrolc: her sons were brave ; such were men as they were 
 for themselves (such we may call valiant men, such as they were in 
 their achievements). The Iorsalafarar (visitors of Jerusalem) broke 
 open Oi'khow .... Earls. To the north-west a great treasure has 
 been hid (but few believe that). A great treasure was hid here. Simon 
 Sigr (victor) carved (the runes) and afterwards Juge. Happy he who 
 may discover this great wealth. Ogdonaegh carried away the goods 
 from this barrow.” 
 
 “ A sorcery hall” was precisely what we anticipated that the Maes- 
 Howe cell would turn out to have been. Who “ Lodbrok” was does 
 not appear; but just as the cell at the New Grange barrow, in Ireland, 
 was “ dedicated to the Great Mother Ops,” whose “ house” it con¬ 
 tained side by side with “ the tomb of the hero” who had undergone all 
 the trials of initiation ; so, probably, Lodbrok was the “ goddess,” or 
 “great mother,” to whom the “sorcery hall” of Maes-Howe was 
 “ dedicated” or “ erected.” This sorcery hall also reminds one of the 
 mystic “ hall of Ceredwyn,” or the Great Mother Ceres, and of “ the 
 narrow bed beneath the tumulus,” in which the Druidical hero, the 
 Taliesin, was “ made perfect.” The New Grange tumulus, or 
 “ pyramid,” as it has been also called, is said to be the very portrait 
 of one described by Pausanias at Mycenae in the Peloponnesus. We 
 also find a close similitude of its internal arrangements, comprising 
 “ the house of the god” and “ the tomb of the hero,” in “ the Dwarfy 
 [or Pictish ?] stone” of Hoy, in Orkney itself. This stone is a hol¬ 
 lowed monolith, 36 feet long, 18 feet broad, and 9 feet high. At each 
 end is a bed and pillow, worked out in the stone; and at the top is 
 a round hole, probably for ventilation. The entrance is a hole 2 feet 
 square, into which a square stone, still, or at least some years since, 
 extant, could be fitted by way of a door. Herodotus describes just 
 such another near Minerva’s Temple at Sais, in Egypt. 
 
 Thus universal do those mysterious religious initiations seem to 
 have been which comprise, in their requisite arrangements, such cells 
 as those of Maes-Howe and Hoy, in Orkney; New Grange, in Ireland ; 
 Sais, and the Great Pyramid itself, in Egypt; Mycenae, in the Pelo¬ 
 ponnesus ; and many others in widely-different parts of the world. 
 
 The encyclopaedic and compendious Higgins, in alluding to some 
 of these cells, says, “ It seems not improbable that these stones may 
 have been for the same religious purpose; but what that may be, or 
 whether Druidical or not, no one can say.” However, there is good 
 reason to believe that such cells, or “ narrow beds” and “ sorcery balls,” 
 were used for religious or magical initiations and enchantments; in 
 which entrancement, and the god-possession of the entranced, were the 
 primary objects in view ; the responses given to those who “ inquired” 
 of the Spirit which was evoked in the entranced constituting “ the 
 oracles” of the heathen. To this day there is a tribe in the Himma- 
 layas who, according to Hodgson and other writers in the “ Transac¬ 
 tions of the Asiatic Society,” are in the habitual practice of entrancing 
 a priest called “ the Deoda,” whom they then consult as an oracle, in 
 a pavilion, or cell, constructed for the occasion. Among the American 
 medicine-men, or thauinaturgical priest-physicians, and various other 
 more or less savage and semi-civilized tribes of men, the Buddhists of 
 Thibet inclusive, similar practices are also still adopted; as, indeed, 
 they are well known to have been in the temples generally of the 
 ancient heathen. 
 
 At the weekly meeting of the Commissioners of Sewers, held on 
 Tuesday last, at Guildhall, Mr. de Jersey in the chair, Dr. Letheby, 
 the medical officer of health, reported on the state of 349 houses that 
 had been inspected during the last fortnight, and he submitted a list 
 of 75 places for sanitary improvement. He likewise reported that the 
 markets and slaughter-houses had been duly inspected, and that the 
 officers had seized 5915 lbs. of meat as unfit for human food. 
 
 SIGNS OF PROGRESS. 
 
 Strange it is, that after all that has been written, all that is before 
 our eyes, there should still be any who can doubt of our advancement 
 in this century. “ An age that has fallen to such a bathos of igno¬ 
 miny ! ” Strong language. Mark the writer’s ire, and assist him to 
 express his contempt for an age that produces its carpets by machinery ! 
 I confess I expected the word “ sausages,” and my fear subsides when 
 it is only carpets. Yet such do exist! and this is my apology for 
 bringing a few well-known facts again before the intelligent reader. 
 First and greatest, as “ knowledge is power,” are the improvements in 
 the art of printing, the price of books and journals, produced by the 
 steam-engine, or the presses and machinery produced by such; when 
 the poorest man may store his mind with knowledge or entertainment; 
 where his soul receives the breath of the master-mind, purifying its dross 
 as fire purifies metal. What intellectual recreation had the artisan of 
 the fifteenth century ? when “ there were very few chimneys even in 
 capital towns ; the fire was laid to the wall, and the smoke issued out 
 at the roof, or door, or window. The houses were wattled and 
 plastered over with clay, and all the furniture and utensils were of 
 wood.” In the writings of the immortal Shakspeare, words and senti¬ 
 ments appear which would scarcely pass in the literature of our day. 
 And many examples still remaining speak for themselves, bearing testi¬ 
 mony neither to the plenitude of the article, nor the honesty of the 
 people, when the Bibles were chained in the churches. 
 
 The lectures, classes, and museums,—all fruits of this peculiar age, 
 all tending to make the intellectual predominate over the animal, the 
 godlike over the brute,—all giving increased power of research, in¬ 
 creased appetite for it, must be remembered. Then the mammoth of 
 the time, the birth of the age, under Providence, the producer of our 
 advancement and comforts, the comforts of the artisan, that gives him 
 his “carpets” at all; and he would have an unenviable spirit who 
 could grudge him this or any of his comforts,—would deny his rail¬ 
 way ride to rural scenes, where he may enjoy the free breath of heaven 
 as a relaxation to his daily work. That has been as a reservoir of 
 good to the man of science, crying aloud. Persevere in your research, 
 that further discoveries may be yours, that further blessings be 
 showered on your fellow-man! This brought into the regions of pos¬ 
 sibility the present International Exhibition; and the advent of such 
 an event, in the day-dreams of the art-worker of the last century, may 
 have seemed as impossible as that of a new style of architecture to 
 many now seems ; and he who asserts that the present or late gathering 
 of the art and industrial produce of the nations is unfavourable to pro¬ 
 gress, and is not evidence of the advancement of the age, requires 
 being put under restraint. “ And to what a state of imbecility is the 
 man reduced that has to set the steam-engine a-going!” George 
 Stephenson, for instance. And the public will judge whether they are 
 better served by men who travel by cold winter nights, by burning 
 suns, by drenching rains, and amidst the electric war of the elements, 
 holding our lives by hundreds in their hands—or by the London 
 cabmen ? 
 
 “ Are your men any happier or nearer heaven P” 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF MODERN WORK. 
 
 All good work in the present day must be a protest against the tri¬ 
 viality, money-worship, and machine regularity of our time. It does 
 not follow that such should be the spirit of work in another age; but 
 in ours it is plain that art must fight the ease, elegance, and sensu¬ 
 ality of modern society, because in themselves they are detestable traits 
 of character. Designers are now chiefly occupied in drawing patterns 
 for articles to be made by machinery—not a very noble occupation for 
 human minds; and their designs never can be anything but geo¬ 
 metrical patterns or symmetrical foliage—also not a lively prospect. 
 Now, surely a wall with a flight of birds painted on it, and half a 
 dozen of them having a good fight in the Japanese manner, is more 
 interesting and contains more life than a million diapers. But this 
 work cannot be done by machinery: you cannot throw life into any¬ 
 thing made by machinery: a hanging or carpet, with some violent 
 grotesque dragons, animals, fish, doing something, not in a state of 
 modern lethargy, is more amusing than the incipient, chilling, flat 
 patterns one is treated to now. The spirit of Japanese work is right 
 —full of life, vigorous and severe. I cannot see anything approaching 
 this in modern English machine patterns: we must either put up with 
 
152 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 cold mediocrity of design, or else restore handwork. Modern furni¬ 
 ture is full of every type of sensuality! there is no severity about it: 
 the woodwork, without any reference to construction, is twisted into 
 shapes for sensual posture: to avoid this, woodwork ought to be 
 rigidly straight, and the cushions cut and made into the shapes you 
 require for ease, but not the framework. However, no material shows 
 the effect of modern old-maidish trimness, or of measured exactness, 
 like our painted glass windows: here the surface is covered in now 
 with French conventional foliage, as stiff and unmeaning as possible. 
 What do you want in a glass window ? An intelligible picture, of 
 brilliant gemlike colours, with the background filled in with any' 
 quantity of bits of glass to make up a noble mass of colour. Now, I 
 ask, what can be the use of filling in such spaces with black lines re¬ 
 presenting foliage ? You do not want black lines: you want colour. 
 What can be the use of drawing a stiff border F Surely a lot of bits 
 of glass, put in indiscriminately, will ensure more effect: and the glass 
 must not be too even in colour: it is the unevenness of tone of old 
 glass, and of oriental textile fabrics, that gives them such lifelike effect. 
 If at the Exhibition, I would call on your readers to notice the diffe¬ 
 rence between the glass of good and bad design. The latter is mathe¬ 
 matically cold and accurate; all over foliage drawn in black lines and 
 finicky borders : the former has a noble pictorial mosaic design ; which, 
 were the glass better, would be of splendid colour; but this is no fault 
 of the designer : the back is filled in with rough irregular glass, bits 
 of diapers—anything, in fact, to get the desired effect of breadth of 
 rich colour; but throughout the whole there is an absence of useless 
 labour and finicky patterns, and no sign of that disgusting geometrical 
 regularity in arrangement of pattern, of lead lines, common in the 
 backgrounds of most windows. Another point, and I have done. 
 Painters that do nothing but run after pretty faces to paint, are not 
 artists. If there is a fault even in early Italian art, it is its slight 
 hankering after the ideal. Now, early Flemish is far nobler. Matsys, 
 Memling, Joseph of Ghent, Ac., had no ideas of classical straight 
 noses, or of freezing machines generally: they painted the people they 
 saw : they painted the colours they saw. What noble, manly, cha¬ 
 racteristic work it is! and what a noble painter the same feeling and 
 country have produced now,—Leys, one of the very few men who 
 paint wholly right in this vulgar, pot-house age—age of iron railings ; 
 age that hates hedges; age that loves the cold formality of Greek 
 form in preference to the honest, manly, rough old Flemish ! A great 
 test of the excellence of Flemish mind and painting is the fact that it 
 withstood the influence of the renaissance of Classical art longer by 
 two hundred years than Italy. About late Belgian work there is a 
 quaintness of great manliness; and that quaintness of character in a 
 great degree exists to this day: it has produced Leys; just as, in 
 England, Queen Anne’s time saw some excellent quaint architecture, 
 pottery, and furniture ; particularly in country towns beyond the reach 
 of the civilizing element. 
 
 There is a beauty in Flemish art which is not noticed by our 
 “ classics and it is a beauty which gives intense natural life to work; 
 I mean the crowds of figures : how they are all huddled together, the 
 numbers coming up from the back to the front: this foreshortening 
 has a wonderful natural effect. I do not think too many figures can 
 be crowded into a painting: the more the merrier, is thoroughly true 
 when said of Flemish art. In Limoges work it is to be found too; 
 it is so jolly and unacademic. Again I ask for crowds of figures 
 huddled together, and plenty of them coming up from the back to the 
 front. There is a glass window in the Exhibition full of this. 
 
 A. W. 
 
 COMBUSTIBLE HOUSES. 
 
 When the public mind is alarmed at the melancholy loss of life occa¬ 
 sioned by an accidental fire in one of the mansions of the wealthy, it 
 cannot be amiss to inquire why our houses are constructed of combus¬ 
 tible materials, and built after designs pre-eminently calculated to faci¬ 
 litate their destruction by fire ? The vulgar answer would be, that 
 fires make good for building trades. But the folly and malice that 
 could dictate such a reply are too patent to render a serious refutation 
 necessary, for the persons who are presumed to benefit by such disasters 
 are among those who reside in fire-feeding structures, and, consequently, 
 run the same risk as others. Still there are somewhere culpable neg¬ 
 ligence and indifference, for there are more fires and greater loss of 
 life from them in London than in any other city in Europe, although 
 we possess, on a more extensive scale, and in a higher degree of effi¬ 
 ciency, the means for prevention and suppression in a watchful police. 
 
 an abundant supply of water, and an admirably organized body of 
 fearless firemen. 
 
 If there be a proverb more generally accepted than another, it is 
 that “ prevention is better than cure.” But until the Building Acts 
 of 1840 and 1845, in our imperial and local legislation with respect to 
 fire in dwelling-houses, prevention had no place, except the regulation 
 of the thickness of party walls enacted to cut off fire from neighbours 
 houses ; and the requirements that chimneys and chimney-shafts should 
 be of brick or stone, or both combined, and of certain specified thick¬ 
 nesses. All our energies had been directed to provide means for ex¬ 
 tinguishing fires, and not their prevention. The Acts passed during 
 the present reign go as far, perhaps, as is practicable, considering our 
 national dislike to government control and interference, and our respect 
 for individual freedom; for they limit the tenuity of chimney-walls, 
 fix the distance of beams from wall surfaces, prohibit the use of timber 
 in chimneys, and require that every first-class dwelling-house contain¬ 
 ing upwards of 125,000 cubic feet shall have fire-proof stairs, and 
 landings carried on fire-proof supports. Sufficient time has not elapsed 
 since the passing of these two Acts for us to speak positively as to the 
 influence of their provisions in the prevention of fires: but we may 
 draw conclusions by comparing the number of houses built anterior 
 to the Act that have been burnt down, with the number of houses 
 built subsequently that have been similarly destroyed, having due re¬ 
 gard to the additions made to the number of houses during the last 
 eighteen years. To enable an accurate judgment being come to, it 
 will be necessary for Captain Shaw, in his next annual report on London 
 fires, to state the dates of building of the structures whose destruction 
 he certified. They could be obtained without great difficulty, and the 
 expense attendant on their publication would be trifling. Were this 
 done we should, perhaps, discover good grounds for satisfaction at the 
 results of recent legislation. If we now suffer from the improvidence 
 of the last generation of builders, our successors will benefit by our 
 prudence, although not to the extent that is desirable; for, despite 
 Acts of Parliament, and interference of district surveyors, there is 
 scarcely one house in a thousand that is really fire-proof. 
 
 A perusal of the Metropolitan Buildings Acts will satisfy the reader 
 that legislation has gone as far as it can, and that it is not by its 
 means we must seek for immunity from fire, but rather in the change 
 of certain building materials, and in a more substantial system of con¬ 
 struction. There can be no necessity to describe how and of what 
 materials an ordinary Lqjidon house is built—the walls not a line 
 thicker than the parliamentary minimum ; rafters, landings, passages, 
 floors, stairs and their supports of the most inflammable turpentine- 
 charged timber ; partitions of laths, veneered with plaster and papered ; 
 skirting-boards arranged to conduct currents of air to feed the flames, 
 and to communicate the latter from floor to walls; doors, window- 
 frames, shutters, and architectural decorations also of easily combustible 
 wood, and the rooms of the vulgar rich filled with furniture like a 
 broker’s shop—all fuel to feed the fire. Then, as if these arrangements 
 were not sufficient to create risk, gas is generally introduced to dry 
 every particle of timber in the house to the condition of touchwood, 
 so that a spark will suffice to set the whole in a blaze. The late Mr. 
 Braidwood stated, in a paper read before the Society of Arts, that the 
 effect of gas lighting in private houses was to bring the woodwork 
 into a state resembling that of a body liable to spontaneous combustion. 
 No better proof of the tinder-like condition of our homes can be re¬ 
 quired than is furnished by Capt. Shaw’s report for last year. Out of 
 C59 fires, of which the causes were ascertained, 86, thirteen per cent., 
 were due to sparks, which a man may receive on his hands without 
 feeling alarm. Twenty-two per cent, were due to candles. Lucifers, 
 fusees, meat falling in the fire, lighted paper, ashes on the hearth, and 
 airing linen are among frequent causes of fires; and yet in a properly- 
 constructed house, with the timber in what may be termed a natural 
 state, scarcely any of these things would generate a fire that would 
 burn so rapidly as to consume the inmates before they could escape, 
 and so fiercely as to gut the whole structure in a couple of hours. 
 
 There are two main elements in promoting fires. The first is the 
 use of very inflammable timber for joists, beams, and bearings; the 
 second is the peculiar system of constructing ceilings, and the hollow 
 internal divisional walls or partitions — all of which have been long 
 since abandoned by our neighbours across the Channel. Here, the 
 partition is ordinarily composed of a hollow framework of timber- 
 quarters carrying slender latbs, on which two thin coats of mortar are 
 laid. The thinner the coats, the greater economy of room area, and 
 the less cost for material and labour. The mortar being wet, partially 
 protrudes between the laths, and thus forms a hold, but the partition 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 153 
 
 remains hollow, and furnishes a very convenient channel for the flames 
 to travel from one floor to another. Nor is this ready and facile means 
 of communication the only evil of the system. A plastered ceiling, if 
 the flames act on the face of the plaster alone, will resist a long time, 
 hut the hollow combustible partition admits the fire to act on the ends 
 of the joists as well as between the flooring boards and laths, and 
 behind the plaster of the ceiling. In Paris the partitions, when 
 formed with timber framework, have the spaces between the two sur¬ 
 faces of laths and the quarterings filled up solid. Eough stone nibble, 
 chips, odds-and-ends, are loosely filled in. Then mortar is plastered 
 on and forced between the laths, so as to fill the interstices formed 
 by the irregularities of the rubble, and thus incorporate the whole, 
 laths, quarterings, and filling-up, into a solid wall. Where timber is 
 not used, the partitions are formed of hollow bricks made excessively 
 thin, and some of no greater thickness than an inch and a half. They 
 are regularly built up on the side, and well bedded in plaster of Paris, 
 so that the cost of material and labour is not much, if any, more than 
 that of timber and rubble partitions. The surfaces being tolerably 
 level, require but a thin coat of plaster to carry the paper or paint. 
 The hollows in the bricks interfere with the transmission of sound, the 
 weight is less than that of the old-fashioned partitions, while the 
 absence of quarterings and laths makes the structure fire-proof, and 
 affords no harbour for vermin. 
 
 The advantage which the Paris system has over the London one in 
 cleanliness, comfort, promotion of health, and security to life are incon¬ 
 testable, and must be evident to all who will condescend to give the 
 subject a moment’s reflection. Although unable to speak positively, 
 we believe it has an advantage in cost; at all events, when we re¬ 
 member that bricks in Paris are double the price they are in London, 
 that the cost of mortar and labour is about the same in both capitals, 
 it may be assumed that, if it be advantageous to employ hollow brick 
 partitions there, a greater saving must ensue from using them here. 
 The chief impediment to the adoption of this improvement appears, so 
 far as can be learned, to proceed from the fact, that the manufacture of 
 hollow bricks has remained in an imperfect state, although invented 
 here. Those that are procurable are made dense and compact, so that 
 they weigh nearly as much as, and in some cases more than, solid 
 bricks, from having been subjected to great compression when nearly 
 dry. Beart’s multitubular bricks, and Bale’s glazed bricks with two 
 perforations, leave nothing to be desired for walls that have to carry 
 weight, but they are altogether useless for partitions. For the interior 
 divisions of a house that have no weight to carry, the bricks should 
 be of the loosest texture, and as light as possible; the more porous the 
 better, and they need require no more care in their manufacture than 
 common drain tiles. While our architects are quarrelling about styles, 
 and speculative builders determine how nearly our lives and property 
 may be endangered, it is too much to expect, perhaps, that they will 
 follow the practice of their continental brethren. But if one of the 
 most eminent members of the profession should be burnt to death in 
 his own house, or a batch of Fellows of the Institute consumed in their 
 place of meeting, the profession might condescend to recognise the fact 
 that brickwork is safer than lath-and-plaster. 
 
 The most efficient obstacle to the spread of fire from one story to 
 another, is a fire-proof floor. In some London houses. Fox and 
 Barrett’s system has been introduced; but as it consists in the employ¬ 
 ment of cast-iron girders and concrete, the weight and cost are serious 
 objections to its general use. Years ago, before iron girders were 
 adopted, Paris floors were made so as to resist the action of fire for a 
 long time, and, in fact, to be, for all practical purposes, fire-proof, even 
 though the beams were of wood. When the joists bad been laid and 
 framed together, stout battens, instead of laths, were nailed, wide apart, 
 to the under side. A platform of rough boards was formed parallel to 
 the surface of the battens, about an inch below. The coarse gypsum 
 used as mortar was laid on the upper surface of the battens, and forced 
 between them, under the joists, and into the inch space between the 
 underside of the battens and the platform. On the mortar setting, the 
 platform was removed, and the battens were found incorporated, and 
 the joists embedded. When the reconstruction of Paris began, the 
 rise in the price of timber, and ingenuity of French architects, led to 
 the introduction of rolled iron girders in the place of timber joists. 
 The spaces between the girders were filled in with earthenware cylin¬ 
 ders, set endwise in plaster, which, swelling when dry, gripped the 
 girders tightly. The cylinders were about the size of the body of a 
 ginger-beer bottle. Subsequently, M. Collas, inventor of the reducing 
 machine, by which MM. Barbedienne produce their charming copies of 
 sculpture, suggested the employment of hollow parallelograms of 
 5 
 
 plaster, or burnt clay, to fill up the spaces between girders. This 
 system is now almost universal. The floor is not only fire-proof, but 
 is durable, remarkably light, healthy, free from vermin, and an obstacle 
 to the transmission of sound, while there is no reason to suppose its 
 cost is much more than that of a wooden one. If French builders and 
 architects find an advantage in the substitution of incombustible for 
 combustible floors, how is it that English builders and architects re¬ 
 main wedded to the old and dangerous method ? Bricks and iron are 
 fully one-third cheaper here than in Paris, and Englishmen are no 
 more inclined to risk their lives and property by fire than Frenchmen. 
 The explanation will not be creditable to our enterprise and intelli¬ 
 gence. It was stated the other day, in the Times review of metallurgy 
 in the Exhibition, that English iron-masters will not, or cannot, pro¬ 
 duce light rolled iron girders. The plea of inability is all nonsense; 
 though its maintenance compels builders to employ cast-iron girders 
 when they depart from wood. Now cast-iron is the very worst of 
 all materials to employ for construction. It is treacherous; in case 
 of fire, it shivers like glass when played on with water, and tumbles 
 the edifice to the ground. Its weight is so great, that it necessitates 
 extra thickness in the walls, and its bulk detracts from economy of 
 space. Then, again, architects are too apt to regard the employment 
 of iron for structural purposes as coming within the province of civil 
 engineering, and somewhat infra dignitate; so that, what with the 
 standstill routine of iron-masters, the lack of enterprise of builders, 
 and the prejudices of architects, we are compelled to remain in jeopardy, 
 while our neighbours enjoy great security to life and property from 
 fire.— Building News. 
 
 THE ECCLESIASTICAL ARCHITECTURE OF GEORGIA 
 AND ARMENIA. 
 
 By the Rev. Geoege Williams, B.D. 
 
 THE CONVENT AND CHUBCHES OF SAFFAEA. 
 
 I must beg you to accompany me up the lovely valley of Borjom, 
 into the wild volcanic district of Abhaltzic, where in a narrow gorge 
 which opens on the left bank of the river Ourawelha, an affluent of 
 the Kuv, are found the extensive and picturesque ruins of the Convent 
 of Saffara, built on an artificial platform, partly levelled in the rocky 
 hollow of the valley, partly formed of solid masonry. Its eastern and 
 western boundary walls are drawn right across the rugged valley; the 
 northern and southern walls run along its steep sides, following the 
 irregularities of the ground, having a circumference of more than half 
 a mile. At the north-west angle of the enclosure is a castle, situated 
 on the wall itself at its highest part, and commanding the whole 
 position. 
 
 The monastery was dedicated to the Blessed Virgin; but its prin¬ 
 cipal church, with which I shall commence my description, as I did my 
 survey, is named after St. Saba, a saint of Palestine of the fifth century, 
 whose celebrated monastery in the wildest part of the wilderness of 
 Judaea is known to all who have travelled in that country; and this 
 dedication of a Georgian church to a comparatively obscure local saint 
 of Syria, is an interesting national memorial of a well-attested historical 
 fact, that the Georgian Christians of the Middle Ages were among the 
 most numerous and devout pilgrims to the Holy Land, where they 
 were treated with greater consideration by the Moslems than any other 
 pilgrims. 
 
 The exterior plan of St. Saba’s Church is a parallelogram. Its in¬ 
 terior cruciform, similar in this as in other respects to the church of 
 Timotliesmene, which I have before described as a type of the larger 
 churches of Georgia. The nave of a single bay; the peculiar aisles; 
 the transepts extending the whole width of the building; the deep 
 apsidal sanctuary (semicircular within, flat square without), flanked by 
 chapels, so to speak, with similar terminations; and the polygonal 
 lantern at the intersection of the roofs, are features common to the 
 two buildings, as is also the massive stone roofs with the bold over¬ 
 hanging coping. The general dimensions are nearly the same, the 
 Church of St. Saba having slightly the advantage in size. 
 
 The construction of the arches is of the rudest type of Romanesque, 
 utterly devoid of mouldings or ornaments of any kind. A short shaft 
 resting on the crown of the principal arch supports two smaller arches, 
 lighting a triforium gallery over the diminutive aisles, which open also 
 by narrow round-headed arches into the transepts. 
 
 The church, sufficiently lighted by the elegant lantern (circular 
 within, but polygonal without), has windows only in the centre of the 
 
 X 
 
154 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 apse, and the extremities of the transepts, small single lights of Ro- 
 manesqe, very much splayed. 
 
 Of the side chapels of the sanctuary, that on the north communi¬ 
 cates with the sanctuary as well as with the transept; the south with 
 the transept only, as at Timothesmene. The apses of both are pierced 
 with narrow round-headed lights much splaj’ed. In the apse of the 
 north chapel still stands a very remarkable altar, consisting of a round 
 shaft with a cushion capital, the abacus of which serves as the holy 
 table, being not much more than a foot square. In front of this is 
 another modern altar, which is still occasionally used. 
 
 Immediately within the entrance of the south chapel, on the right, 
 a hole in the floor suggested the idea of crypts, which the situation of 
 the church seemed fully to warrant, and the native’s account of large 
 vaults extending under the whole church—filled with human hones— 
 to which this was the entrance, excited my curiosity, which was far 
 from satisfied, when having, after infinite trouble, effected an entrance 
 by means of a rickety ladder, without rounds, I found that the crypt 
 extended only under this small chapel. However, I had done my duty 
 as an ecclesiologist, and risked my neck into the bargain. 
 
 I shall have done with the interior of the church when I have fur¬ 
 ther mentioned that the walls appear to have been covered with frescoes. 
 The most intelligible of what remains is also probably the most inte¬ 
 resting. It is on the wall of the south transept. The picture repre¬ 
 sents two Georgian princes—atabeles—in rich national costume, still in 
 use, presenting a model of the church to our Saviour through the 
 intercession of the saint to whom it is dedicated. The figures are 
 larger than life, the treatment no doubt conventional, but very effective. 
 As to the identity of the saint there is no question, since his name is 
 written in the character called “ khoutzouri,” near his head; and the 
 name and title of one of the chiefs has been deciphered : “ Beka, 
 spasalar, generalissimo of Samtzkhe.” The fragments of a longer 
 inscription were read, and are translated in M. Brosset’s 2nd Report 
 to Prince Verontzoff. 
 
 The inscription obviously amounted to an invocation of blessings 
 temporal and spiritual on the restorer of the church, in consideration 
 of his services to the house of the Lord: and this benefactor was 
 Sargis, commander-in-chief of the Samtzkhe, son of Beka, chief of the 
 mandators—whatever that may mean. These notices will be of service 
 when we come to the history of the church, which w r e must now leave 
 by the west door, in order to examine the porch, when we have just 
 noticed, by the way, that there is also a north door giving entrance 
 into the north aisle, richly ornamented without, and having in the 
 tympanum a foliated Greek cross, with the brief inscription, “ Christ, 
 the Word of Life.” 
 
 The porch is 26 ft. long by 9 ft. 6|- deep, with north and south 
 doors, supported by three round arches, resting on round shafts. The 
 beauty and finish of its exquisite arabesque chiselling form a remark¬ 
 able contrast to the rudeness of the interior work, to which I have 
 already adverted, and would seem to indicate a later period, and a fur¬ 
 ther advanced stage of architectural science. And yet, on the other 
 hand, the exterior ornamentation of the doors and windows of the 
 church, which is almost equally rich—specimens of which I am able 
 to exhibit to you—and which seem to be coeval with the building, 
 prevent me from positively adopting this hypothesis, especially as the 
 inscriptions on the porch itself apparently belong to the same period 
 as the princes whose names are recorded in the interior. One of 
 these inscriptions runs partly round the window of the porch, and is 
 as follows: “ This temple was finished, after the foundation .... by 
 the hand of Pharelas-Dze (or the son of Pharela), God assoile him.” 
 Without the circle, in characters not carved, but only painted, is appa¬ 
 rently the date ; but impressed in a manner utterly unusual in Georgia. 
 The numerical value of the characters is 500 4-100 + 9 + 1 = 610; but 
 as the era is left absolutely undetermined, the date must be purely 
 conjectural. M. Brosset suggests that the copyist—the universal scape¬ 
 goat in all such cases—has inserted the 100 by mistake, and that the 
 date should be 509 [510] (of the Pascal cycle to wit), which would 
 correspond with 1289 a.d. [the cycle only numbers as far as 532]; 
 from which he concludes that the date ought to be read 529, = 1309 
 a.d. Such a deduction from a baseless hypothesis does not satisfy us; 
 but I have nothing more plausible to suggest, unless we are at liberty 
 to suppose that the Mohammedan era was in use in Georgia—as in 
 other parts of the Christian east—which would give us a date corre¬ 
 sponding with a.d. 1213. 
 
 On the curved stone which forms the lintel—or rather the tym¬ 
 panum—of the west door of the church, are two very remarkable 
 inscriptions. I translate them as curious memorials of the Georgian 
 
 Christianity of the Middle Ages:—“ In the name of God, I Okra, 
 son of Gabatza, have offered 100 botinats .... to establish for ever 
 an agape for the first Lord’s Day of the Pascal full moon. W hoso- 
 ever shall alter this institution is anathematized by the mouth of God.” 
 
 The botinat was a coin of the Eastern Empire, which derived its 
 name from the Emperor Nicephoras Botoniates, who reigned from 
 a.d. 1078—1081. The other, beneath the preceding, is still more 
 curious: — 
 
 “ In the name of God, with the assistance of the most holy mother 
 of God, and S. Saba, I, John, spiritually blessed, the son of Ghaw, of 
 my own free will, being in full possession of my faculties, have offered 
 to S. Saba my estate of Tzikhis-Djouan, without reserve, with the 
 fortress, the church, the waters, the woods, the forests, the royal de¬ 
 mesnes, the corn-lands, the vineyards, in one word, all. No one has 
 any claim on them, my father himself had offered them .... except 
 my portion. The principal of the monastery, w r ho partakes in this 
 benefaction, will not refuse me religious priests (to celebrate). Who¬ 
 ever shall take away from S. Saba my estate, he shall make satisfaction 
 for my sins. May his soul .... in his unfaithfulness to S. Saba. 
 All this that is written is enough, and more than enough. The lata 
 shall celebrate for ever the agape written on the door. Whosoever 
 shall alter this is anathematized by the mouth of God.” 
 
 Beneath this, again, in large, deep cut characters, is the dedication 
 of the door itself: “ Lord God, receive this door as Thou didst receive 
 the oboli of the widow. God have mercy on the pilgrim, George 
 Male. Amen.” 
 
 At the side of the great charter is this : “ Lord, have mercy on 
 Tarkha Tbeli. I have offered to S. Saba of Tzikhis-Djouar my estate 
 . . . .” Unfortunately none of these names are known to history, so 
 that they determine nothing as to the date of the church. 
 
 I proceed now to the other buildings. Adjoining the porch on the 
 south side, and so covering the west front of the south aisle, is a small 
 Lady-chapel (of our Lady), said to have been built before any of the 
 others. It has no exterior inscription, but within, in fresco, are the 
 portraits of Sargis and his two sons Beha and Chalwa. This is im¬ 
 portant, as fixing approximately the date of the building: for Sargis 
 of Djag is the prince who first established the independence of the 
 atabeles, under King David V. He died in a.d. 1285, and was suc¬ 
 ceeded by his son Beha I., whose son, Sargis II., we have already seen 
 depicted on the wall of the south transept. 
 
 Attached to St. Mary’s, and abutting on the south wall of the great 
 church, extending as far as the transept, is the chapel of S. Marina, 
 not more recent than the others. It is distinguished by a narthex, 
 which covers its west front, and has a separate lean-to roof. The 
 arabesques at the east end of this chapel are remarkably rich, and 
 many loose stones lying on the ground are exquisitely chiselled. On 
 the north wall is the following inscription : “ Lord supreme. Divine 
 Christ, who exalteth those who glorify Thee, exalt in both worlds our 
 Lord Beka, chief of the mandators, and his sons: who has deigned to 
 grant a place of sepulture to us, unworthy to be his dust; to Laswir, 
 son of Laswir, and his brothers.” Under this inscription are full- 
 length portraits of the three brothers, Svvibat on the left, Laswir on 
 the right, entitled, chief of the msalchours ; between the two Nicolas 
 in a monastic habit; to whom, probably on this account, the place of 
 honour is assigned. Opposite to these under a window are the figures 
 of S. George, S. Demetrius, and S. Theodore. 
 
 This, then, was a mortuary chapel of these three brothers : and the 
 state of the ground in the middle of the building seems to indicate 
 that there was formerly a sepulchral vault beneath the pavement. 
 Beyond, i.e., south of this church of S. Marina, is the small chapel of 
 S. George, on the front of which M. Brosset saw a rude carving of 
 S. George and the Dragon, which is now lying among the rubbish of 
 S. Marina’s Church. 
 
 This chapel is very diminutive, being only 13ft. 4in. long, by 8ft. 
 2in. wide. But it has a north side-chapel, 10ft. 6in., by 5ft. wide. 
 This tiny chapel has ati altar in situ, similar to that in the north 
 chapel of the cathedral, i.e., a square abacus, resting on a cushion 
 capital, supported on a round shaft, entirely of a Norman type. The 
 dimensions of this altar are 3ft. 2|in. high, the table being 1ft, 9fin. 
 long, 1ft. 3fin. wide. I thought it was a curiosity of diminutiveness, 
 which led me to take the measures. In the east apsidal window of 
 this chapel was a small stone model of the Church of the Resurrection 
 at Jerusalem, another record of the spirit of pilgrimage. This stone 
 bore an invocation of spiritual blessings on the deacon Gabriel-Bagrat. 
 
 This Church of S. George was erected by one of the superiors of 
 the monastery, as an inscription on its west front attests. “ In the 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 155 
 
 name of God, I, Grigol Naphchounis-Dze, superior of tlie holy brothers 
 who dwell here at Saphara, have built this small chapel in memory of 
 my sinful soul, to the end that the Lord may, through the intercession 
 of S. Saba, the illuminator of monasteries, draw me from the midst of 
 those on His left hand, and count me among those on His right hand. 
 The Lord have mercy on Grigol, the builder of this.” 
 
 I have further to notice a very small mortuary chapel, at the north¬ 
 east of the church of S. Saba, said to have been the depository of the 
 abbots. It has three rows of vaults, now exposed, and filled with 
 skulls and human bones. 
 
 To the west of the large church is the belfry, consisting of a poly¬ 
 gonal lantern, to which there is an ascent from the exterior, while the 
 ground floor is occupied by a small chapel, dedicated to S. John Baptist, 
 over the door of which, on either side of a Greek cross, is this brief 
 inscription. “ S. John Baptist, have mercy on Joseph of Djag and 
 his sons. Amen.” The tomb in the chapel is doubtless, that of 
 Joseph, otherwise unknown to fame; but the fortress of Djag is known 
 as the cradle and nursery of the race of the Georgian atabeles, on the 
 right bank of the Troblianha (or Djagis-Tsqual) to the north-west of 
 Akhaltsich. 
 
 The last chapel I have to name, is that of S. Simon (Peter), close to 
 the northern entrance; very small, and remarkable for nothing but the 
 exquisite beauty and solidity of the masonry, which, indeed, it shares 
 with all the other sacred edifices. The Prince Toumanoff informed me 
 that this stone must have been quarried very many miles—I think he 
 said as much as sixty miles—from this spot, as there is none to be 
 found nearer. It is a fine, compact limestone, with a rich pink or 
 rosy hue, which imparts a glow of warmth to the whole of the build¬ 
 ings. 
 
 The castle, which crowns the steep at the north-west of the church, 
 and forms an imposing object, presents nothing worthy of special re¬ 
 mark ; and I believe I may bring my over-long description to a close, 
 when I have mentioned that absolutely nothing remains of the domestic 
 buildings of the monks, except fragments of walls and foundations, 
 among which I liked to fancy I could identify the refectory not far 
 from the small chapel of S. Peter. 
 
 Tsounda. —We must now ascend the River Kur some twenty miles, 
 passing the romantic village of Khertwis, with the fine ruins of its 
 once magnificent castle, situated on a bold, rocky promontory, formed 
 by the confluence of the Tapravanie and the Kur, until we arrive at 
 the extensive ruins of Tsounda in the midst of a district full of interest 
 for a geologist. The village is situated on the right bank of the Kur, 
 which here makes a considerable bend to the south. But we are, at 
 present, only concerned with the church, which stands at the outskirts 
 of the modern village, entirely abandoned to decay, though still capable 
 of complete restoration at a moderate outlay. It is of the same type 
 as that of Daba, already described as the model of village churches; 
 but it has some features peculiar to itself, which I proceed to describe. 
 It is based on an artificial foundation formed of three or four courses 
 of very large stones, rising to a height of ten or twelve feet, and is 
 thus completely isolated, nor are there any indications of the steps by 
 which the ascent must formerly have been effected. The Romanesque 
 doorway in the west front is stopped with solid masonry, laid in regular 
 courses, and in the centre is a cross richly carved, with bunches of 
 grapes suspended from the arms. Over the door is a single window, 
 and one on each side, similar to those of Daba, with arabesque bands 
 equally rich. This door is in the wall immediately overhanging the 
 precipice. On the south side the church appears to have been based 
 on the natural rock, which rises abruptly from a small plain. Here, 
 in later times, a porch has been constructed, of irregular form, giving 
 entrance into the church under a flat dome, very richly carved, but now 
 much decayed. The door is flanked with shafts of very peculiar cha¬ 
 racter, baluster shafts they may be called, but they more resemble the 
 bed-posts of the Jacobean period, than any known order of classical or 
 Gothic art. The church is about 30ft. long by 20ft. wide, divided into 
 two bays by flat pilasters, with an apsidal termination ; the outer wall 
 being, as usual, rectangular. But the most notable feature of this 
 church is a small court on its south side, surrounded with a wall some 
 eight feet high, which is pierced with loopholes, and was evidently not 
 only intended but actually used for a bastion, as the marks of balls and 
 bullets are still to be seen on the outer face of the masonry: another 
 of the numerous tokens that exist throughout this country of the hard, 
 and sometimes desperate struggles, by which these chivalrous Christians 
 maintained their faith for many centuries against the vastly superior 
 forces of their Mohammedan invaders from the south. The church, 
 unfortunately, is not dated; but from its masonry and ornamentation, I 
 
 should he disposed to assign it about the same date as the church of 
 Daba, i.e., the first half of the fourteenth century. It is now called 
 S. George’s Church, but an inscription on the tympanum of the western 
 doorway, informs us that it was dedicated to S. John Baptist, by Itch- 
 kith son of Gourgen, a name unhappily not known to history. 
 
 Warbsia.— Still ascending the Kur, which here runs through a 
 rocky gorge, dominated by the picturesque castle of Tioumoule or 
 Imogvi, situated on an almost inaccessible hill on the left bank of the 
 river, we reach the rock-hewn convent of Wardsia by a road scarcely 
 practicable. This convent is entirely excavated in a precipitous rock, 
 which rises from a narrow plain on the left bank of the Kur, and con¬ 
 sists of nearly 400 chambers of various dimensions, among which are 
 found one large cathedral church and six or seven small chapels. The 
 whole place has been given over to centuries of desolation or desecra¬ 
 tion, during the occupation of this part of the country by the Turks; hut 
 quite recently, a vigorous lay-brother, a Greek from Trebizond, has 
 been earnestly employed in clearing it of its pollutions. The cathedral 
 has been restored, so to speak, and furnished with a new iconostasis; 
 and the divine offices, with the Liturgy of S. Chrysostom, are again 
 celebrated there by a Greek priest, also from Trebizond, in the presence 
 of a few of the orthodox villagers from the neighbouring village of 
 Tsounda. I can only briefly notice the cathedral, which is situated 
 about the middle of the convent. It has a kind of porch, opening 
 into it from the south, supported by two pillars left in the live rock, 
 and is lighted by apertures pierced in the same. It measures about 
 45 feet by 25 feet, and is about 40 feet high; the rock at the east end 
 is formed into an apse. On the north is a kind of aisle of irregular 
 shape, in which is the mausoleum of the renowned Queen Tamar, who 
 passed much of her time at this place, and whose spacious apartments, 
 with their wide divans, all excavated in the natural rock, once commu¬ 
 nicated with the church by a passage and stairs, still to be traced. 
 This queen, who died in a.b. 1212, was daughter of George, who 
 reigned from 1156 to 1184, and is said to have commenced this 
 monastery, which was finished by his more renowned daughter. Of 
 the chapels I can only mention one, which is entirtly covered with 
 frescoes, evidently executed by a Greek artist, probably a monk of 
 Mount Athos, for not only are all the subjects treated, and all the 
 figures represented in the conventional style of the Greeks, but the 
 names and legends attached to each are certainly in the ancient Greek 
 characters, though Brosset has pronounced them to he Georgian. The 
 only piece of masonry in this extensive convent is found in the entrance 
 gateway, which may also have served for a belfry ; but the upper story is 
 now destroyed. This building, which is comparatively modern, may 
 date from the restoration of the monastery, after its violation by 
 (Tamerlane) Thab-Thamaz, about the middle of the eighteenth 
 century. 
 
 Mtzijhetha. —I have yet to describe the most venerable, and to 
 me the most interesting of all the ecclesiastical monuments of Georgia, 
 situated also on the Kur, hut at a distance of little less than two 
 hundred miles from the convent last described. Only one post short 
 of Tiflis, at the confluence of the River Aragva with the Kur, is found 
 the site of Mtzhhetha, once the civil and religious capital of the 
 Georgian kingdom, the venerable cradle of the national church, and the 
 seat of its Catholicus, until, within the last few years, the Russian 
 bureaucratic rage for centralisation, most unhappily, as I think, trans¬ 
 ferred tjie metropolitan see to Tiflis, and merged this ancient inde¬ 
 pendent branch of the orthodox Church in the holy governing Synod 
 of St. Petersburg. 
 
 Meanwhile, the material land-marks of this much-enduring church 
 still remain, mutilated and debased no doubt, and grievously shorn of 
 their ancient dignity, but only the more dear on that very account to 
 those who cherish a feeling of veneration and love for what presents 
 the noblest example which ecclesiastical history has preserved of alle¬ 
 giance to the faith of Christ, under hardships and privations and perse¬ 
 cutions which have no parallel in any other church in Christendom. 
 
 I have two churches to describe, the “ Ouspenshi Sabor,” or church 
 of the Assumption, and the Cathedral of the Twelve Apostles. The 
 Ouspenshi Sabor is the conventual chapel of a small nunnery, which 
 doubtless occupies the site of a more numerous and influential religious 
 house attached to this abbey church, in the palmy days of Georgian 
 Christianity. It stands in a court ol some considerable size, surrounded 
 by a high wall, within which, on the south and south-west of the 
 enclosure, stand the houses of the nuns and the hospitium and guests’- 
 house, which arc modern constructions and demand no notice. 
 
 The north-east angle of the close is occupied by a very small chapel 
 dedicated to the memory of S. Ninia, the apostle of the Georgian 
 
 x 2 
 
156 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 nation, who, a humble slave girl herself, emancipated the king and 
 people of the land of her captivity with “ the glorious liberty of the 
 children of God.” At the north-west angle is a square tower, with a 
 polygonal lantern, with a conical roof, which may formerly have 
 served for a bell-tower, similar to that over the chapel of S. John 
 Baptist at Saffara. 
 
 But I must proceed now to notice the church itself, which is of the 
 same type precisely as that of Timothesmene, and as the principal 
 church of the Convent of Saffara. I shall therefore notice only those 
 features which are peculiar to this church. Externally 1 have to notice 
 a double base-table, the lower 4|, the upper 9 inches deep; each 
 
 9 inches wide, serving as a continuous pedestal for the pilasters, which 
 support an arcading that runs round all that part of the original wall 
 of the church which is still exposed to view ; for additions, of which I 
 have to speak presently, have been made to the church, both on the 
 north and south sides. This arcading is common to this church and 
 the cathedral, and I see, from drawings, that it was applied also to 
 other churches in Georgia. It is admirably executed, and indeed the 
 whole construction of these walls is a masterpiece of masonic art. The 
 east wall is arcaded in five, giving one arch to each aisle, and thi-ee to 
 the chancel, which rise much higher than the side arches. There is a 
 curious angular recess between the two shafts that support the side 
 arches of the chancel, the only exterior indication of the apsidal termi¬ 
 nation within, for these recesses are formed in the thickness of the 
 wall formed by the apse. But the most remarkable feature in this 
 church is the chapel abutting upon its south wall, and forming, in one 
 of its bays, the porch of access to the church itself. This chapel is 
 covered with a gabled roof at right angles to the roof of the church, 
 and tiled, while all the other roofs are of the same solid ribbed stone as 
 we have noticed elsewhere. There were formerly a brick porch at the 
 west end, which is now in ruins, and a lean-to cellar-like building 
 covers the northern wall for a length of 65^ feet from the west end, 
 being only 14 feet wide. The church measures externally 90 feet by 
 56 feet, not including the chapels. I must not quit the exterior 
 without mentioning the very rich arabesque ornaments which cover 
 the gables of the transepts, which are arcaded in three; the wall 
 border, the middle arch being pierced with two lights, while the side 
 arches, which are much narrower and lower than the centre, serve 
 as frames for double blind lights, which se em never to have been 
 pierced. 
 
 Entering into the interior through the second bay (from the west) 
 of the south chapel, the arch of which is nearly double the width of 
 the others for the purpose of forming a porch, we find this chapel 
 highly ornamented with good stone carving of the Byzantine character. 
 It is divided internally into four bays; whereof the easternmost lias 
 an apsidal termination, the next bay to this has a flat dome vault 
 resting on pendentives, exquisitely sculptured, and its walls are richly 
 arcaded and recessed. The interior of the church itself corresponds in 
 all its main features with Timothesmene and S. Saha, already described, 
 but a low stone screen of Byzantine character, with the arches entirely 
 open, in place of the usual iconostasis of closed panels, is a peculiar 
 feature of this church. The synthronus here is more developed than 
 in the church of S. Saba. There is in the centre of the apse a large 
 throne, to which is an ascent by four wide steps, which run entirely 
 round the apse, and seem to have formed a double row of benches for 
 the chapter of the convent. Besides the episcopal throne in the apse, 
 there is an ancient canopied throne, richly carved in stone, raised two 
 or three steps, attached to the eastern face of the pier which supports 
 the lantern on the south side of the nave ; and in the corresponding 
 position on the north side is a very massive chair in black marble, 
 without any carving. The former of these was said to be the throne 
 of the Metropolitan, the latter of the heguman. 
 
 This church was undergoing very extensive repairs when I was 
 there, and was entirely denuded of furniture, which considerablyfacilitated 
 my survev. The nuns were meanwhile assisting in the offices at the 
 cathedral, which I have next to describe. I shall be as brief as 
 possible. 
 
 The Cathedral of the Twelve Apostles is a building of the greatest 
 interest to the sacred archaeologist and ecclesiologist, as being that 
 which undoubtedly occupies the site of the first church of Georgia, 
 erected during the reign of Constantine the Great; while the existing 
 building, though often ruined by accident or violence, and as often 
 restored, yet unquestionably exhibits in its main features the identical 
 church in which many generations of the orthodox kings of Iberia 
 received their coronation unction, and in which the mortal remains of 
 the royal family have been interred for centuries. But we are at pre- 
 
 sent engaged with the architecture, not with the history and antiquities, 
 of Georgia. 
 
 The church is situated within a kremlin—a name common in Russia 
 to any fortified enclosure surrounding a church, such as that most cele¬ 
 brated one at Moscow: the Acropolis at Athens, or the Capitol of 
 Rome, would have been kremlins to the Russians. The high wall of 
 this enclosure is flanked with square and circular towers, which give it 
 quite the character of a fortress; and the buildings occupied by the 
 priests and servants of the church are situated on the west and south 
 sides of the close : the palace of the Metropolitan I did not distinguish 
 amid these half-ruined habitations. 
 
 The church itself has the same double base-table, and an arcade 
 running yound the walls, with niches in the east end, similar to the 
 Church of the Assumption; but it has also some curious sculptured 
 stones placed in the wall at random, as it would appear, by way of 
 ornament—some carved in arabesque patterns, others rude representa¬ 
 tions of animals unknown to zoology—possibly recognised in Georgian 
 heraldry. I found the church to be 160 ft. by 66|-, interior measure. 
 
 The height of the lantern, I read, is 112 ft. 
 
 It has these peculiarities. A narthex, covering the whole of its 
 west front, besides the square porch which we have found in the other 
 churches. This narthex has a roof of its own, lower than that of the 
 church, so that the aisles of the nave have windows in their west 
 walls, above the roof of the narthex. The church has also double 
 transept aisles, which within appear like an extension of the nave east¬ 
 ward, and of the sacrarium westward, one bay each ; it is only the 
 roofing that indicates that they really are what I have stated them to 
 be. The iconostasis is advanced westward of the eastern aisle of the 
 transept, and stands between the two eastern piers of the lantern. A 
 modern and tawdry iconostasis has lately been substituted for the old 
 one, the fragments of which were resting against the south wall of the 
 transept, and the grim-visaged figures of the old national saints in 
 their picturesque costumes appeared to me much better to harmonize 
 with the genius loci than these miserable specimens of modern art and 
 debased taste. The lantern is a polygon of sixteen sides, and springs 
 immediately from the pendentives, without the intervention of the 
 circular drum which is found in the Church of the Assumption. Be¬ 
 tween the piers of the nave on the south side is a low square column, 
 surrounded by a wood frame, canopied and covered with ancient paint¬ 
 ings—an object of special veneration to the Georgian Christians, as 
 being the place where a miraculous flow of ointment indicated the 
 presence of the seamless coat of our Lord, the most precious relic of 
 the Church and nation. Close by this, on the east, is the throne 
 where the Georgian kings were crowned by many successions of 
 Catholici, from the days of Miriam, their first Christian king, until 
 the last of the royal line, George XIIL, at the close of the last century. 
 
 There is an ascent of two steps to the synthronus, which is divided 
 into stalls, five on each side of the throne in the apse, with an ex¬ 
 tension eastward along the flat wall of the sacrarium. Immediately 
 behind the altar is a large and massive silver cross, used in pro¬ 
 cessions, covered with Byzantine chasing, very rich and of great 
 antiquity. The church also possesses a reliquary of ancient date, 
 which the Catholicos was wont to wear as a breastplate on great occa¬ 
 sions, in imitation, it may be presumed, of the Urim and Thummitn 
 of the Jewish high-priest. 
 
 This allusion has carried me again to Jerusalem, and I must not 
 leave this interesting church without directing your attention to a 
 stone model of the Holy Sepulchre, which is erected against the south 
 wall of the narthex—another memorial of the old communion between 
 the Georgian Church and the Holy Land, to which I have already 
 more than once referred, and to which I must further allude, in con¬ 
 clusion, in order to call to your notice the remarkable resemblance that 
 is still found to exist between those churches which I have described, 
 and two of the eleven churches which still exist at Jerusalem, which 
 are historically known to have belonged originally to the Georgians. I 
 allude to the Church of S. James, now held by the Clementians, on 
 Mount Sion, and the Convent Chapel of S. Salvador, occupied by the 
 Franciscans since the sixteenth century. I am enabled, through the 
 kindness of Signor Pierotti, to exhibit ground-plans of both these 
 churches, and a section of one, a glance at which will at once show 
 you how remarkably, in this instance also, architectural science confirms 
 historical testimony. 
 
 I was to have said something on Armenian as well as on Georgian 
 Ecclesiology, but have left myself less than no time to do so, having 
 already exceeded the limits assigned me. I regret this the less, be- 
 | cause, having been prevented by illness from exploring the Armenian 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE YICTORTAN AGE. 
 
 157 
 
 churches of Tiflis, and from prosecuting my contemplated journey into 
 Armenia Proper, I could only have reported upon them at second 
 hand, from books, which probably are accessible to all, in the reading- 
 room of the British Museum. I thought I should be doing better 
 service if I confined myself to the results of my own actual surveys of 
 buildings which have either never been described and illustrated at all 
 before, or in so very slovenly and careless a manner as to mislead 
 rather than to guide the student who would investigate this almost 
 untrodden, but most interesting and instructive field of ecclesiological 
 research. I feel that I have done but scanty justice to my subject, 
 but I trust I have furnished you with elements for the investigation 
 of the curious question of the place which Georgia occupies in the 
 development of religious architecture—a question which appears to 
 me to offer some problems not very easy of solution, and which I 
 gladly leave in abler hands. 
 
 PROJECT FOR THE NEW PATENT OFFICE, LIBRARY, 
 AND MUSEUM. 
 
 It has been said that no evil comes alone; the aphorism might be as 
 easily and as truthfully changed to “ No good comes alone.” Those 
 who may have watched for the last few years the history of public im¬ 
 provements, will readily recal to mind instances in which one improve¬ 
 ment has been the harbinger of another. A national or local disgrace 
 has often been changed to a national or local honour. But lately, a 
 number of buildings, dilapidated and useless, were pulled down in 
 triumph in one of our manufacturing towns, and when the work of 
 demolition was completed, handsome architectural structures were 
 ordered to take their place. We believe that the great improvement 
 of London by the adoption of the Thames Embankment Act, will only 
 be the forerunner of many other great improvements now required. 
 
 A project has lately been made which will serve to illustrate our 
 remarks. The Commissioners of Patents have, it is well known, for 
 some years been desirous to obtain an eligible site for building a new 
 Patent Office, a Library, and a Museum. In the month of April, 
 1855, four of the Commissioners reported to the Lords Commissioners 
 of Her Majesty’s Treasury upon the subject, requesting the sanction 
 of the latter to the expenditure of a sum of 30,000£. for the building 
 of new offices, sufficient ground being taken for the extension of the 
 building from time to time, as may be required. This report was 
 transmitted to the Board of Works, with instructions that a con¬ 
 venient site should be provided for the proposed new Offices, Public 
 Library, and Museum, and also that plans and estimates should be pre¬ 
 pared for Parliament. In 1859, a site was approved of, lying at the 
 northern extremity of the gardens of Burlington House; and conse¬ 
 quently plans and estimates were prepared by Messrs. Banks and Barry, 
 who were appointed by the Board of Works; but this plan was in the 
 same year abandoned, owing to a change of Government. Since then, 
 no other site has been provided or suggested, until within the last few 
 months, when it appears, from a report issued by the Patent Office, 
 that another effort has been made. The Commissioners had proposed 
 the erection of the new buildings on Fife House and Gardens, in 
 Whitehall. This proposal was, however, delayed for a time, in conse¬ 
 quence of the question relating to the great scheme of embanking the 
 Thames being still undecided. Now that this difficulty is removed, 
 and the several roads have been set out and definitively fixed by the 
 Thames Embankment Act of the present session, the Commissioners of 
 Patents have rightly put forward their claims to consideration. 
 
 The rooms now used and rented, in Southampton Buildings, have 
 been for years insufficient for the purposes to which they are used. 
 These buildings are hired at an annual rent of, we believe, 490Z. In 
 the year 1855, the Commissioners of Patents established a free public 
 library within their offices, containing works of science in all languages, 
 the publications made by the Commissioners, and the works upon 
 patented and other inventions. This library has sinoe then been con¬ 
 siderably increased, a great number of the works being gifts. As this 
 is the only library within the United Kingdom in which the public 
 have access to this class of useful works, it has been resorted to by a 
 great number of inventors, engineers, and mechanics, and other gentle¬ 
 men connected with the patent business. The library is now so over¬ 
 crowded, that many of the books remain in cases, and lie piled on the 
 floor, because accommodation cannot possibly be found in the building 
 for them. Standing room is also a great defect, and was the cause of 
 a memorial, requesting immediate attention to the subject, being pre¬ 
 sented by Robert W. Kennard, Esq., M.P., and forty-five other gentle¬ 
 
 men, to the Commissioners for Patents. This memorial was sent on 
 the 22nd of July of the present year. 
 
 But another and a more cogent reason for additional accommodation, 
 perhaps, may be found in the existing state of the Patent Museum. 
 Every one knows that the Commissioners are in possession of a col¬ 
 lection of very valuable and interesting models of patented machines 
 and implements, with the portraits of inventors, equally valuable, the 
 majority of which are gifts, and others have been sent on loan; and 
 that these models, &<;., are exhibited in a small portion—doubtless as 
 large as the Committee of the Privy Council for Tiade can assign—of 
 the South Kensington Museum. It has been considered by the Com¬ 
 missioners to be highly desirable, and indeed necessary, to make the 
 Patent Office Museum a historical and educational institution for the 
 benefit of the workmen of England. One of the most important steps 
 which they desire to take is, so to arrange the models in their museum 
 as to show the progression which every branch of manufacture has 
 made. “ For example,” says the Report, “ taking the case of steam¬ 
 boats ; in order to show the rise and progress of this invention, it is 
 necessary to exhibit in a series of exact models of machines, or by the 
 machines themselves, each successive invention and improvement in 
 steam propellers, from the first engine on the paddle system, that drove 
 a boat of two tons burthen, to the powerful machinery of the present 
 day on the screw system, in first-rate ships of war.” This the Com¬ 
 missioners can do, as they have the models, and several other interest¬ 
 ing original machines have recently been added to their museum. This 
 scheme requires no special pleading at our hands; it i3 so palpably 
 plain, and commends itself to the serious consideration of all who are 
 interested therein. The worth of such an arrangement would be in¬ 
 valuable. Our workmen at the factory and at the shop can, with the 
 assistance of such a museum, devote an evening to an attentive con¬ 
 sideration of the wonderful strides that have been made in the diffe¬ 
 rent branches of machinery, and that without difficulty or inconve¬ 
 nience, as far as the museum is concerned. The Commissioners have 
 done wisely in recommending that it should be contiguous to the 
 library, in oi'der that readers may be enabled to read the books and 
 inspect the models at the same time and place. This plan would be 
 much more comfortable to the readers than having them in the same 
 room. 
 
 As far as the proposed site is concerned, there is very little doubt 
 but that it will meet the necessities of the Commissioners. The 
 offices will, if the Report be carried, be situated in the middle of a 
 new street running from the new roadway of the embankment to 
 Whitehall. The Commissioners also propose to reserve a piece of land 
 from the museum to the new roadway, which is to be appropriated for 
 the extension of the museum in future years. The Crown leases of 
 Fife House and the several buildings which adjoin are at the disposal 
 of Her Majesty’s Commissioners of Woods and Forests, the leases 
 having lately expired. 
 
 Any one who has visited the Patent Offices and Library in South¬ 
 ampton Buildings must see that it is next to impossible to go on much 
 longer in their present condition. Something must be done. Much 
 more room must be obtained; and we consider the best way out of 
 the difficulty is to immediately follow the recommendations of the 
 Commissioners, and erect suitable buildings in Whitehall .—Building 
 News. 
 
 PATENTS CONNECTED WITH BUILDING. 
 
 Improvements in the Manufacture of Night-lights. —A. I. 
 Austen. Dated Dec. 30, 1861.—This invention consists in producing 
 transparency in the case, and a polish on the outside of the ordinary thick 
 box or “ round” used in the manufacture of night-lights, by saturating 
 the box with a candle or night-light material of a higher melting 
 point than the fatty material which the box surrounds. The method 
 most suitable in producing this transparency and polish is to steep 
 the box in a preparation of stearine and wax, which, when withdrawn, 
 is allowed to drain in a hot closet; the boxes are then placed on a 
 mandril, and while revolving in a lathe or otherwise a polish is pro¬ 
 duced by the friction of a flannel or other suitable pad. Patent 
 abandoned. 
 
 Improvements in Ventilators or Valves for Regulating 
 the Passage of Air or other Fluids, whether of a Gaseous 
 or Liquid Form. —N. Mcllaffie. Dated Dec. 31, 1861.—Here, when 
 applying a ventilator or valve for admission of external air, the patentee 
 causes the current of air to impinge on a surface so arranged that,when 
 the current of air exceeds the velocity considered desirable, the surface 
 
158 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 may be able to yield to it, and on yielding may close or partially close 
 the valve. When the force of the current diminishes, the valve again 
 opens, it being so weighted as always to tend to do so. For the passage 
 of liquids, this last-mentioned surface should he mounted on a horizontal 
 axis, but instead of being at or near its lower extremity, it should he 
 at or near its upper extremity, on account of the greater density of 
 the fluid, the passage of which is sought to he regulated.— Patent 
 completed. 
 
 Improvements in Deflectors for Lamps. (A communication.) 
 —W. Spence. Dated Dec. 81,1861.—The object here is the prevention 
 of the partial obscuration of light from the lamp, caused by surrounding 
 the flame with a deflector composed of an opaque material, and consists 
 in the substitution of a deflector composed of glass or other trans¬ 
 parent material for that which is ordinarily composed of metal. The 
 deflector is in form similar to those in ordinary use as applied to lamps 
 in which kerosene and other heavy oils are burned, such form being 
 that of a hollow cone, with a hole at the top of the form required to 
 suit the form of the wick.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in the Construction of Apparatus for Heat¬ 
 ing and Circulating Water and other Liquids. —T. C. Clarke. 
 Dated Jan. 1, 1862.—This relates to the construction of the bottom or 
 the fore part of those apparatuses usually built in brickwork, and 
 known as cast boilers, such boilers being mostly used for heating and 
 circulating water or oil through pipes or tubes for warming green¬ 
 houses and other buildings. To obtain a large heating surface and 
 economy of fuel, the patentee casts the said apparatus of a cylindrical 
 form, with a water-jacket round the same, and with hollow fire bars 
 across the bottom, so that at the back of almost every part where the 
 heat impinges there is a water space, and as all the water spaces com¬ 
 municate with each other, a circulation is maintained, as is well known. 
 In the side of the cylindrical casing before named, there is an opening 
 in the brickwork through which to supply fuel. Near the bottom 
 there are water supply or return pipes, and near the top are the exit or 
 hot water discharge pipes, which may be connected to another boiler 
 placed above the one just described, so that the water may be further 
 raised in temperature before discharged into the circulating pipes, and 
 the waste heat economized. To prevent waste of fuel there is a cover 
 or flue plate placed on the top of the boiler to prevent the heat 
 escaping too rapidly, which may be regulated by the dampers.— Patent 
 completed. 
 
 Improvements in Gas Burners. —E. F. Davis. Dated Jan. 1, 
 1862.—The object here is to cause the gas, while passing into and 
 through the burner, to become regulated and controlled with regard to 
 its pressure, to be at the same time purified, its illuminating power 
 increased, and its consumption economized. The lower part of the 
 burner consists of a receptacle containing charcoal; above the charcoal 
 a perforated cover or disc, having the edge furnished with a screw 
 thread (immediately below which is a gauze wire to prevent the char¬ 
 coal stopping up the perforator), is screwed down inside the receptacle, 
 which has a corresponding thread cut therein, so as to form a cap, and 
 force down the charcoal, as may be required according to the pressure 
 of the gas. The upper part of the burner consists of a dome and a 
 nipple screwed thereon, the inte.'ior and upper portion of the dome 
 being furnished with a double layer of wire gauze, a similar duplicate 
 layer being placed in the lower portion of the burner beneath the 
 charcoal. The dome is to be screwed on the lower part of the burner, 
 and the whole is then ready to be attached by a male or female screw 
 at the bottom of the burner to the gas pipe. The gas will then pass 
 through the layers of gauze, and through the charcoal and perforated 
 disc into the dome, and through the upper layers of gauze into the 
 nipple, becoming in its passage not only purified or rendered smokeless 
 and increased in its illuminating properties, but regulated in its passage, 
 and its consumption proportionally economized.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Meters for Measuring Gas, Water, and 
 other Fluids, under any Pressure, even the Smallest, with¬ 
 out Making any Change in the Apparatus. —J. J. Gutkneeht. 
 Dated January 1, 1862.—The patentee claims, 1, the arrangement of 
 fluid-measuring apparatus, in which the capacity of the measuring 
 chamber is controlled by a piston and flexible diaphragm, by whose 
 motion the quantity of fluid passing through the water is indicated and 
 registered, all as described; 2, the arrangement of parts described as 
 applied to a fluid meter, whereby the valve which regulates the ad¬ 
 mission and escape of the fluid to and from the measuring chamber is 
 caused to change its position quickly at the completion of the stroke 
 of the measuring piston or diaphragm by the aotion of springs placed 
 in position for that purpose, as described.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Constructing Works below Water.— J. 
 Wright. Dated January 25, 1862.—This consists in forming con¬ 
 tinuous foundations for sea and river walls, or like structures under 
 water, by the use of cylinders or coffers, in the constructing of coffer¬ 
 dams.— -Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Globes and Glasses to be used with 
 Hydrocarbon Lamps. —R. Martindale. Dated January 27, 1862. 
 —By this invention the breakages arising from the chimney being 
 fixed at the base so near to the flame will be avoided. The patentee 
 takes a globe of the common moon shape, or other suitable shape, and 
 suspends inside it from the top a glass perdifume, or bell-mouthed 
 tube; or it may be formed in one piece with the globe. Another 
 form of globe, which will answer well, is made by shaping the globe 
 into a flattened spheroid, and forming a neck rising out of the top of 
 the globe, so that the glass presents the appearance of a peculiarly 
 shaped bottle. Several modifications are given.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Machinery for Making Nails and Spikes. 
 (A communication.)—C. T. Bousfield. Dated January 21, 1862.— 
 This relates to a novel arrangement of parts, constituting an improved 
 nail-making machine, in which two pairs of compressing rollers are 
 used for tapering the ends of the metal rods fed into the machine to a 
 suitable shape for forming nails or spikes, in combination with a cutter 
 for severing such tapered ends from the rods, and a heading die for 
 striking up the heads of the nails or spikes while the same are held 
 firmly between nipping dies, the object being to effect in a rapid and 
 economical manner the conversion of rods or bars of iron or other 
 suitable material into nails or spikes.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Street and Road-sweeping Machines, 
 
 PARTS OF WHICH ARE APPLICABLE TO THE SEPARATION OF LIQUID 
 
 from Solid Substances. (A communication.)—R. A. Brooman. 
 Dated January 21, 1862.—Tliis invention consists:—1. In the em¬ 
 ployment in machines for sweeping streets and roads of two side 
 brooms for drawing the mud and dirt into the path of the chain of 
 brooms by which it is to be raised into a receiver. 2. In the particular 
 construction and arrangement of the chain for carrying the brooms. 
 3. In the means afforded for raising the whole sweeping apparatus off 
 the ground. 4. In the method of attaching the sweeping machine to 
 the receiver for collecting the material swept up. 5. In the particular 
 construction of the receiver to fit it for separating the heavy from the 
 more liquid material swept up, so that the liquid may, in case of need, 
 be used for watering the streets or roads. The details of the invention 
 are voluminous. 
 
 Improvements in Laths for Venetian Blinds, in Painting 
 such Laths, and in Raising and Lowering Venetian Blinds. 
 —E. Pace. Dated January 22, 1862.—The patentee claims :—1. The 
 manufacture of laths for Venetian blinds by a slicing knife as de¬ 
 scribed. 2. The construction of laths for Venetian blinds by gluing 
 or cementing together two or more leaves or thicknesses of wood sliced 
 or cut out of the plank as described. 3. Painting the laths by a roller 
 or rollers in manner described. 4. Raising and lowering blinds by a 
 roller fitted with a ferrule, in which is inserted a divided spring plug, 
 substantially as described.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Engineering and Architectural Struc¬ 
 ture. —E. W. Hughes. Dated January 14, 1862.—This consists in 
 constructing cylinders or tubes suitable for columns or supports used 
 in engineering and architectural structures, by forming and combining 
 plates of wrought or malleable iron, each of which is rolled with two 
 other projecting flanges, which are produced at angles greater than a right 
 angle to the plane or outer surface of the plate.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in Preparing Sheet Lead for Covering 
 Floors, Stairs, and other like Purposes. —J. Ridsdale. Dated 
 January 15, 1862.—This consists in sinking by pressure from presses, 
 rolls, or hand tools, designs or patterns on that surface of the sheet 
 lead which, when laid, is to come uppermost, and in filling up such 
 sunken designs or patterns with colour or not, according to require¬ 
 ment.— Patent completed. 
 
 Improvements in the Construction of Stoves or Fire¬ 
 places. —J. Tow. Dated January 18, 1862.—The object here is the 
 construction of stoves or fireplaces for heating apartments or buildings, 
 whereby the draught can be easily regulated and the escape of smoke 
 into the room or apartment prevented. There is also an arrangement 
 by which hot air may be conducted from such stoves to any part of a 
 building. Stoves or fireplaces constructed according to this invention 
 are formed in several parts, so that they may be readily taken to 
 pieces for examination or repair, and for facility in fixing.— Patent 
 completed. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 159 
 
 THOUGHTS, PRACTICAL AND PHILOSOPHIC. 
 
 An Eagle in Coppeb. —Contemporaries have already made known 
 a very remarkable work executed in copper by Mr. Thos. Phillips, of 
 Snow-hill, London; but we cannot allow it to pass by without a few 
 words of description and praise. It represents a “ golden eagle ” in 
 vigorous action, 
 
 Standing on the jag of a mountain crag: 
 its wings are extended (they measure from tip to tip 5 feet 2f inches), 
 and with open beak and flashing eye he screams defiance. Every 
 portion is represented with scrupulous fidelity. The minute feathers 
 which cluster round the neck, the fine hair-like down which runs from 
 the beak to the eye, the cushion of plumage at the junction of the 
 wings and body, are here separate, and can be each separately raised 
 by the finger. The half-hairy, half-feathery legs of the bird are won¬ 
 derful in the fineness of the down which overspreads them. The most 
 extraordinary triumph of Mr. Phillips’s skill, however, is shown in the 
 extremely minute feathers which cover the frame of the pinions, and 
 which conceal the fastenings of the large feathers forming the tips of 
 the wings. The rock, a mass of tin and antimony in combination, is 
 bold and effective. The metallic lustre of feathers, so difficult to 
 imitate in painting, is rendered with great felicity. The maker says 
 there are more than 10,000 feathers, formed from ordinary copper¬ 
 plate, all made by hand, some of which had to pass twenty-six or 
 twenty-seven times under the hammer and graver. For six or seven 
 years this work has been in hand; and it is most satisfactory to us to 
 find that to this patient labour has been added artistic skill. He has 
 not merely imitated feathers, but conveyed expression.— Builder. 
 
 The Pictebesque in Aechitectuee.—A New Clock-Toweb 
 in Pabis. —It would appear, judging from the effect of a rpcent 
 erection in Paris, that the very plainest modern style may, by judicious 
 treatment, be made to develop such features as will necessarily render 
 it “picturesque,” in the ordinary acceptation of that term; that is to 
 say, by causing it, in the first place, to present an unusual variety of 
 outline, through the medium of projections and recessions, as will 
 essentially vary the main form of the mass, and impart to it certain 
 broad effects of light and shade. Secondly, to enrich it with appro¬ 
 priate details, which, while they pleasingly attract the eye, at the same 
 time arouse curiosity, and cause the attention of the spectator to dwell 
 with satisfaction on the effect of the general design, while it is induced 
 to seek for other remote features; being tempted forward by those 
 prominent ones which first caught the eye. The muraille d'enceinte 
 with which Louis Philippe enclosed Paris, along with large tracts of 
 suburban land as yet not built upon, and also several detached suburban 
 villages, gave a great and sudden impulse to building beyond the old 
 limits of Paris. The vacant spaces were rapidly filled up, detached 
 villages grew rapidly forward in the direction of the solid masses of 
 the city, and new districts were formed, each with its mairie, as in the 
 arrondissements of the old city. Among these Le Petit Mont-Rouge 
 became the fourteenth arrondissement; and on its place, bordered with 
 a quadrangle of limes, a suitable site was found for the erection of a 
 mayoral residence, suitable to the increased dignity and importance of 
 the place. The building then erected was of sufficient size, and pre¬ 
 sented a certain originality of treatment, the more worthy of remark, 
 as the originality was achieved by the simplest means, and without 
 the aid of any so-called decorative features. It was severely simple, 
 and yet it bore evidence, though as plain as an ordinary house, that it 
 was the work of a thoughtful and tasteful architect. Le Petit Mont- 
 Iiouge again increased and prospered; and it was thought, the other 
 day, that, as a public clock was required, it afforded the opportunity of 
 adding a clock-tower to the pretty but simple majmralty. A certain 
 impress of taste in the building, plain as it was, appeared to lend itself 
 to this decorative addition; and the result has shown that appearances 
 were in that case not deceptive. From a raised perron, in the centre 
 of the principal front, a pavilion of three arches now rises, forming an 
 appropriate porch to the principal entrance. These arches are very 
 sparingly enriched with appropriate and delicately designed ornament. 
 From this arched pavilion rises a square tower, on the front side of 
 which is the clock. This part of the tower is, with severe simplicity, 
 enriched with four high and nearly detached reliefs, representing the 
 four principal epochs of civic life, in a military country : infancy—the 
 conscription—marriage—death. The first epoch is represented by a 
 woman carrying an infant; the second by a youth, in a civic blouse, 
 seiz'ng the national standard; a veiled girl, wearing a bridal wreath, 
 represents marriage; while the last is represented by a woman placing 
 a wreath of immortelles upon a tomb; all these figures possess con¬ 
 
 siderable merit as works of sculpture. The square tower is surmounted, 
 above the clock, by a circular turret crowned with a gallery of columns 
 supporting a small dome; the effect of the whole composition being 
 exceedingly pleasing. It must be added, too, that the new feature is 
 made to accord so well with the main building in general simplicity of 
 feeling, that it hardly seems an extraneous addition, not provided for, 
 nor even contemplated, in the original design of the work to which it 
 is attached. A time is coming when successful imitation of former 
 styles—Mediaeval or Classic—will not be sufficient to found the repu¬ 
 tation of an architectural artist, or even to sustain a repute already 
 established. We shall be glad to see an English clock-tower grow up 
 somewhere, in which the same kind of illustrative decoration as that 
 which we have mentioned may be carried out. 
 
 GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 From a pamphlet giving an account of the colony of South Australia, 
 prepared for distribution at the International Exhibition of 1862, we 
 learn the following particulars respecting that interesting colony:—• 
 The city of Adelaide, its capital, contains not a few important buildings, 
 and there many of the luxuries of life are obtainable in its numerous 
 stores and shops. There are no less than thirty-three miles of made 
 streets in Adelaide, provided with macadamized roadways, curbed foot¬ 
 paths, water-tables, &c. Water is conducted in pipes along all its 
 streets, and into most of its houses, and is supplied at high-pressure 
 from waterworks, by means of which the river Torreus has been 
 turned to domestic and other uses, at a cost of nearly 250,000/.! The 
 reservoir at Thorndon Park holds 150,000,000 gallons, or a six months’ 
 supply, so as to render the city independent in summer of the drying- 
 up of the Torrens. Against fire, nearly 1000 fire-plugs have been 
 fixed. Public baths have been established; and the luxurious colonists 
 contemplate the erection of Turkish baths. Among the principal 
 public buildings are, the Government House, an Italian edifice, which 
 has recently been enlarged at a cost of 10,000/.; the new Government 
 Offices, also in the Italian style, from a design by Mr. E. A. Ha¬ 
 milton, colonial architect, in 1857, at a cost of 13,000/.; the Parlia¬ 
 ment Houses, erected from a design by Mr. Bennet Hays, in the style 
 of James I.’s time, and at a cost of about 15,000/,; the Supreme 
 Court, with Grecian Doric portico and Italian flanks, built in 1849, at 
 a cost of 10,000/.; the Post-office, Local Court House, and Police 
 Station, in the Grecian style, with Italian clock-tower, and completed 
 in 1850, at a cost of about 7Q0O/.; the Armoury, Police Barracks, &c., 
 built from a design by Mr. Hays in the Tudor style, at a cost of 
 12,000/ ; and the new Custom-house, Court-house, and Police Station, 
 at Port Adelaide, designed by Mr. Hamilton in the Italian style, and 
 built in 1861, at a cost of upwards of 7000/. The Railway Terminus 
 at Adelaide is an Italian edifice, erected under Mr. B. H. Babbage, 
 C.E., in 1854, at a cost of about 7000/. There are various public 
 buildings of more or less importance, including court-houses and 
 police-stations, dispersed over the colony. Copper is one of the chief 
 products of South Australia, whose Burra-Burra mines have for some 
 years been well known in this country for their rich produce. Wines 
 are also produced, as well as wheat, wool, and other articles. Alpaca 
 and Angora wool are among the South Australian products exhibited 
 at the Palace of Art. 
 
 A Mediaeval Parthenon. —The Church of St. Mary at Bury, 
 built in 1424, on the site of a former church of 1002, appears, from its 
 chief dimensions, to have been intended as a copy of the Parthenon at 
 Athens; taken, of course, from a written description, without the aid 
 of drawings. The extreme length of the temple and the church is 
 214 feet. The extreme width of the temple coincides with the outer 
 boundaries of the church, apparently reserved for chantries, measuring 
 from the north side of the tower to the street fence. This tower 
 belonged to the old church, and most likely formed the limit of the 
 church westward. The length of the nave would then have corre¬ 
 sponded with the east cell of the temple. The internal and external 
 width of the church and Parthenon, exclusive of the peristyle, is 
 identical, being respectively 62| feet and 67^- feet. Measuring from 
 the south face of the tower to a responding point on the other side of 
 the church, we have a width of about 42 feet, equal to that between 
 the columns of the Parthenon. With regard to heights, the rise of 
 the roofs in each case is the same; and the clerestory p£ the church is 
 equal in height to the entablature of the temple. The entire heights 
 of the two buildings are also equal.— W. Scargill. 
 
160 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Discovert of a Fossiliferous Cave at Malta. —The Malta 
 Times says that another of those interesting relics of a pre-human 
 epoch was brought to light last week through the researches of Captain 
 Spratt, R.N., whose scientific labours in connexion with the geology of 
 these islands are so well known and appreciated. Vague rumours pre¬ 
 vailed some years ago of the existence of a cave of this kind at Meliha, 
 which coming to the hearing of the late lamented Sir William Reid, 
 he directed the attention of Lord Ducie and Captain Spratt to the spot, 
 but nothing then could be found. A fossil hippopotamus tooth, in the 
 possession of Signor Pace, an Italian gentleman residing here, said to 
 have been obtained from Meliha, led Captain Spratt to institute closer 
 and stricter inquiries ; and while in the bay of Meliha with his ship, 
 a few days ago, he succeeded in finding the remains of a fossiliferous 
 cave at a short distance from the village church. It had been, un¬ 
 fortunately, almost destroyed to make way for a road, and the rubble 
 used to fill up the interstices of a wall ; but sufficient remains of hippo¬ 
 potamus bones and teeth were dug up to indicate its having been of a 
 similar character to the Meilach cave near Crendi, regarding which we 
 lately published some interesting particulars from the pen of Dr. Leith 
 Adams, of the 22nd Regiment. 
 
 Pier at Hilton Head, South Carolina. —The great pier at 
 Hilton Head, South Carolina, now completed, is upwards of 1400 ft. 
 in length, the width being 40 ft., and the head, sometimes called the 
 T, being 140 ft. long. The workmanship throughout is of the most 
 solid kind. To sustain it, more than 1000 pine trees have been cut 
 down, their trunks drawn from three to four miles, and driven far 
 down into the sand. 
 
 Roman Remains at Norton, Yorkshire. —An extensive place 
 of ancient sculpture has been recently discovered at Norton. An ex¬ 
 cavation was being made for sand, but the section of the ground showed 
 that the site was one of a large pit which had at some remote period 
 been thrown out, and refilled with a different material, chiefly very 
 black soil. At a depth of about six feet a large stone was met with. 
 This stone was 4 ft. 6 in. long, and 2 ft. 2 in. wide, and has been hewn 
 into a diamond shape. After much labour, this heavy stone was re¬ 
 moved, and beneath it was found the remains of a cist, containing 
 human bones, and much Roman pottery, in fragments, of which portions 
 of a lacrymatory and some cinerary urns are recognisable. There were 
 several deposits of human bones in the sand adjoining, buried without 
 any apparent regard for order. A Roman road formerly passed near 
 the place. 
 
 Congregational Chapel for Paris. —One feature of the Bicen¬ 
 tenary movement is the proposal to erect a Memorial Chapel by the 
 Congregationalists in Paris. At present they have only a room capable 
 of holding 100 people. The cost is to be 6000Z., of which one-half 
 has been already promised. 
 
 Patent “ Maretzo.” —Mr. E. J. Bridell has patented “ Improve¬ 
 ments in the manufacture of substances artificially coloured, veined, or 
 mottled, like marbles or other substances.” In carrying out this 
 invention the patentee employs in the production of the artificial sub¬ 
 stances made according to this invention, and which he calls maretzo, 
 cements and other similar materials : by preference a cement or material 
 that will form a hard compact substance, and afford a smooth surface 
 capable of receiving a polish, may be employed. According to the 
 colours of the veins or figures required to be imparted to the artificial 
 substance, corresponding colours are mixed with the requisite amount 
 of liquid in flat trays made shallow, in which are spread fibres of floss 
 silk or silk waste, or other fibrous materials which will readily absorb 
 the colouring matters, and readily impart the same to the substances 
 treated as hereinafter described. The silk or other suitable material is 
 fixed in the form of the veining or figure required by means of light 
 frames of various sizes made of wood or wire, or the material may be 
 also used at times without such frames. The silk is well saturated 
 in the hefore-named trays of colour, and is then spread open with suit¬ 
 able instruments; and it is afterwards carefully taken up and laid, with 
 or without a frame, upon a piece of glass, either flat or curved, as may 
 be required, or upon some other smooth or polished surface made of 
 suitable form, such as metal or plaster. When it is required to give 
 a varied appearance to the substance, patches of suitable coloured 
 cement are laid upon the glass: a layer of suitable coloured or tinted 
 cement is then superadded. The cement is carefully spread, so as to 
 be about one-eighth of an inch thick; and, after being allowed to 
 remain a sufficient time to allow the saturated silk to part with its 
 colour or colours, the silk fibres are removed either by raising the 
 frames, or by using suitable instruments. The glass or other smooth 
 surface is then shaken or agitated, so as to blend or harmonize the 
 
 colours, and a light coat of dry cement is sifted on for the purpose 
 of extracting the superfluous water, and is afterwards gently removed 
 by a plasterer’s trowel. The material so prepared is then smoothed or 
 trowelled all over, so as to form a slab or other required form. To 
 consolidate and strengthen the slab he employs a backing of canvas, or 
 other suitable fabric, which he applies to the slab. 
 
 Archeological Discovery. —The Academy of Toulouse has re¬ 
 ceived an interesting report on the excavations recently made by M. 
 Frederic Troyes, in the grotto called Du Portel, in the commune of 
 Loubens (Arriege), at about eleven kilometres from Foix. This grotto 
 is situated at an altitude of 400 metres above the level of the sea; 
 it has at present but one entrance, at the extremity of the Bois de la 
 Peyrade. The interior is rendered difficult of access at two points, 
 where the passage suddenly contracts to such narrow dimensions that 
 the only way to get through is to creep on hands and feet. The whole 
 length of the passage is 240 metres; it ends in a kind of hall, whence 
 two secondary galleries branch off in different directions. The walls 
 and ceiling of the grotto are covered with stalactites, while a stalag- 
 mitic crust occasionally conceals the floor. M. Troyes began his exca¬ 
 vation on the 11th of May last, bringing to light a few fragments of 
 coarse pottery, both ancient and modern, and a few bones of sheep and 
 dogs, all near the suface. At a further depth, the bones of bears were 
 found of three distinct sizes, two of which were very large, and at least 
 equal in stature to the horse; the third was much smaller, but still 
 different from the bear of the present day. The other remains of 
 animals comprised those of various kinds of dogs, wolves, hyaenas, 
 pigs, a large kind of ox, the reindeer, and another ruminant, probably 
 belonging to the antelope genus. On the 23rd of June, three imple¬ 
 ments of human manufacture were found. One was a hatchet, roughly 
 cut out of limestone, the others being serrated lance-heads of different 
 sizes. No human remains have yet been found, but there is reason 
 to believe that the cavern was frequented by man from the very ear¬ 
 liest ages.— Galignani. 
 
 “Steam-power Superseded” bi “a New Principle in Na¬ 
 tural Law.” —Mr. George Rydell, of Castle-street, Holborn, has 
 invented and patented “ an apparatus,” which he also calls “ a wonder¬ 
 ful mechanical appliance,” and of which he speaks when he “ declares 
 to the world that he has found out a mode of raising water from an 
 unlimited depth to an unlimited height, without being in the least 
 dependent upon steam-power,” and “ no matter what the quantity 
 might be.” He asserts that, although the Great Eastern has a steam- 
 power of 3000 horses, he can “ not only propel this monster vessel over 
 the Atlantic at the speed it now travels by steam agency; but from 
 cisterns of cold water, he can obtain even a greater power than it now 
 possesses, without using any coal for navigation purposes; thereby 
 leaving the 12,000 tons space open for additional cargo.” The use of 
 this new (hydraulic ?) agency, however, Mr. Rydell seems mainly to 
 contemplate using for the raising of water from mines. Shakspeare 
 has something about protesting “ too much.” 
 
 The third volume of M. Forster’s “ Monuments of German Sculpture 
 and Painting ” has been published. 
 
 NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
 
 In tlie execution of the Plates which form our Illustra¬ 
 tions, we hope always to have the advantage of the 
 designs of the Architects whose buildings we represent. 
 We also invite those gentlemen, in every instance, to 
 communicate both with our artists and ourselves during 
 the progress of our drawings, and we shall always be 
 anxious to secure their approval for every illustration on 
 its completion. 
 
 The lithographs contained in the present Part have all 
 been executed from the architects drawings. Their ac¬ 
 curacy may be depended on, and they will doubtless be 
 preserved and valued as faithful pictures of interesting 
 and chaste examples of the street architecture of London 
 in the Victorian age. 
 
 All communications for the Editor to be addressed to 
 the care of Darton and Hodge, Publishers, Holborn- 
 liill, E.C. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE TIIE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
 T is not often that we associate the 
 heroic with Art; but in Michael 
 Angelo we have an illustrious example 
 of the artist morally athletic. Michael 
 Angelo was a hero no less than a 
 creator. It was his energetic cha¬ 
 racter which moulded his opulent 
 genius, whereas, for the most part, if 
 the genius is the noblest, the character is the feeblest. 
 Hence, from the sublime elevation to which Michael 
 Angelo raises us, wrn have to view his productions as in the 
 truest sense valiant deeds. The times of Michael Angelo 
 were for Italy filled with sorrow and with shame. Art 
 flourished magnificently; virtue deplorably decayed; yet 
 the robust, the colossal individuality of the incomparable 
 Buonarroti was almost sufficient of itself to atone for the 
 ignominy and the guilt of his beautiful but unfortunate 
 country. 
 
 At the Chateau of Caprese, in Tuscany, on the 6th of 
 March, 1475, Michael Angelo Buonarroti w r as born. He 
 was the son of Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni and of Fran¬ 
 cesca del Sera. The family sprang from the Counts of 
 Canossa,who, besides antiquity and famous exploits, could 
 boast of an allianee with the Imperial blood. Lodovico 
 Buonarroti, though the chief magistrate of Chiusi and 
 Caprese, in the diocese of Arezzo, was far from wealthy. 
 He had numerous children. Michael Angelo, the fifth 
 son, was put out to nurse at the village of Settignano, 
 where there were large quarries. Like nearly all the in¬ 
 habitants of the village, the husband of the woman to whom 
 he was entrusted was a stone-cutter; and Michael Angelo 
 loved to recal the fact that his earliest playthings were the 
 mallet and the chisel. When the future sculptor, painter, 
 architect, poet, engineer was sent to school, it was with a 
 view to commercial pursuits. But though he devoted 
 himself to the routine duties of the various classes, and 
 made rapid progress, he could not resist his artistic in¬ 
 stincts. In secret he learned to draw. The country- 
 house of Michael Angelo’s father is still in the possession 
 of the Buonarroti family. What with rude materials, 
 and in a rude manner, the boy artist traced on the walls 
 of the rooms, no profane hand has been allowed to efface. 
 
 Where a vocation was so clearly expressed as in the 
 case of Michael Angelo, it was vain to resist it. Lodovico 
 Buonarroti at last, therefore, consented that his son 
 should devote his time and talents wholly to art. Michael 
 Angelo was placed, at the age of fourteen, with Domenico 
 Ghirlandajo, one of the most distinguished painters of the 
 fifteenth century. It was at Florence, his native city, 
 that Ghirlandajo gathered his pupils around him : among 
 these, Michael Angelo was not long in distancing all 
 rivalry. On one occasion Michael Angelo received as an 
 exercise a picture by Ghirlandajo to copy. By way 
 of jest, he gave his own performance to the master 
 instead of the original. Ghirlandajo would not have 
 detected the harmless trick unless the other pupils had 
 smiled. 
 
 Id 
 
 There was in Michael Angelo, besides an extraordinary 
 vigour, a no less marvellous precocity. Lorenzo de 
 Medici, called the Magnificent, had collected in his 
 gardens of St. Mark statues, busts, bas-reliefs, antique 
 fragments. In doing so he had more in view than his 
 pleasure: he wished to help in making Italian sculpture 
 as fruitful and triumphant as Italian painting. To Ghir¬ 
 landajo he spoke of his desires and designs in this respect. 
 A few of Gliirlandajo’s pupils were chosen to study in the 
 gardens of St. Mark: two of them were Michael Angelo 
 and his friend Granacci. Michael Angelo’s earliest work 
 as a sculptor—the restoration of an ancient faun—can 
 still be seen in the Public Gallery of Florence. Lorenzo 
 de Medici admired it so warmly that he at once took the 
 liveliest interest in the artist, who was not much more 
 than fifteen, gave him apartments in his palace, a salary 
 of five ducats a month, and made him the companion of 
 his three sons—Peter, John, and Julian. John, born in 
 the same year as Michael Angelo, was afterwards Pope 
 under the title of Leo X. Lorenzo, besides, often invited 
 Michael Angelo to his table, where the chief personages 
 of the Republic assembled. The favour extended from 
 the son to the father : a more lucrative post was provided 
 for Lodovico Buonarroti than that which he occupied. 
 
 A deplorable misfortune befel Michael Angelo during 
 the course of his studies in the gardens of St. Mark, 
 and in the Chapel of Mount Carmel, to which 
 the frescoes of Masaccio attracted him. A fellow- 
 student, Jorrigiani, felt toward him the most deadly 
 hatred. This has been ascribed to jealousy ; but 
 Torrigiani’s own statement to Benvenuto Cellini was, 
 that Michael Angelo was in the habit of turning his 
 fellow-students into ridicule. In one of their frequent 
 quarrels, Tomgiani struck Michael Angelo such a violent 
 blow on the nose as to break the bridge. Thus was the 
 great artist disfigured for life. Torrigiani fled from 
 Florence to escape the punishment due to his brutality. 
 
 Lorenzo de Medici died in the spring of 1492. Over¬ 
 whelmed by grief for the death of his protector, Michael 
 Angelo went to reside for a brief season at his father’s 
 house. In Peter de Medici, Lorenzo had an unworthy 
 successor. Peter, however, pretended to be, like his an¬ 
 cestors, the patron of art. Michael Angelo’s place and 
 privileges in the palace of the Medici were restored to 
 him; but the vain, capricious, and frivolous Peter often 
 condemned the artist to degrading offices. lie caused 
 him to erect a colossus of snow in the court of the palace, 
 and he boasted that he had at his command two most 
 wonderful men—Michael Angelo and a Spanish valet, 
 who to extreme beauty joined such rare agility that a 
 horse at full gallop was scarcely a match for him. 
 
 A short time before the expulsion of the Medici from 
 Florence, in 1494, Michael Angelo went to Bologna, then 
 to Venice. HR money failing, he returned to Bologna. 
 There existed at Bologna an absurd regulation, that every 
 stranger was to carry on the thumb-nail a stamp of red 
 wax, placed there by the police; for contravention of this 
 order Michael Angelo was condemned to pay a fine. Not 
 having the requisite sum, he was about to be thrown into 
 
 Y 
 
 6 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 102 
 
 prison. A magistrate, Alclovrandi, came to his assistance, 
 offering him alike protection and hospitality. In the 
 house of Aldovrandi, Michael Angelo remained a year. 
 No heavier duty was imposed on him than reading every 
 day to his host, in the purest Tuscan accent, the writings 
 of Dante, of Petrarch, and of Boccaccio. During this 
 exile he is supposed to have tried for the first time his 
 own powers as a poet. 
 
 Saint Dominic, the founder of the Dominican Order, 
 died and was buried at Bologna. His tomb is an artistic 
 miracle, which men travel far to see ; but it was Michael 
 Angelo who completed it, and gave it its most memorable 
 ornament. He received, through the influence of Aldo¬ 
 vrandi, the commission to prepare two statues for the tomb. 
 These are the statue of a female saint, and that of a 
 kneeling angel holding a torch. 
 
 Availing himself of a pause in the troubles at Florence, 
 Michael Angelo hastened back to a city dear to him from 
 so many associations. His indefatigable chisel speedily 
 signalized his arrival. A little St. John was followed by 
 a Sleeping Cupid. This Sleeping Cupid was destined to 
 have a singular history. Michael Angelo appointed Bal- 
 dassare of Milan to sell it at Rome. Baklassare buried it 
 in his garden; then, pretending that he had discovered it 
 by accident, he sold it as an antique to a cardinal at Rome 
 for two hundred ducats; but he wrote to Michael Angelo 
 that he had not obtained more than a hundred crowns. 
 The Cardinal was extremely indignant at having been so 
 impudently deceived. He knew who was the author of 
 the fraud; he wanted to know likewise who was the author 
 of the statue, and for this purpose sent a gentleman to 
 Florence, whose suspicions fell on Michael Angelo. On 
 entering the house of the artist, the gentleman asked him 
 for a sight of some of his works. Michael Angelo had 
 nothing ready at the moment. He took a pen, however, 
 and drew a hand as astonishing for the anatomical know¬ 
 ledge as for the artistic perfection which it displayed. The 
 drawing is now in the Louvre collection, and it has been 
 frequently engraved. The gentleman’s report to the 
 Cardinal was enthusiastic, but did not much soften the 
 latter’s wrath, who caused Baldassare to be arrested and 
 the money to be returned. To Michael Angelo the statue 
 was restored, which subsequently underwent a variety of 
 fortunes worthy of its first adventures. Relenting after 
 a while, the Cardinal summoned him to Rome. It 
 was for a Roman gentleman, Jacopo Galli, that Michael 
 Angelo produced his Bacchus holding a cup, and accom¬ 
 panied by a little Satyr eating grapes. While on the one 
 hand critics have praised this work for approaching 
 nearer the Greek ideal than any other of the artist’s 
 sculptures, it has on the other hand been condemned for 
 an offence against taste. The Bacchus is exhibiting symp¬ 
 toms of intoxication not in concord with his exalted nature 
 as a divinity. Michael Angelo had here made the marble 
 eloquent with abounding joy; he made it next speak the 
 poetry of profoundest grief in the group of the Virgin 
 holding on her knees her dead son. This group, so notable 
 for the pathetic treatment of a pathetic subject, has been 
 often reproduced in bronze and otherwise. But, moreover, 
 
 the spectacle, the saddest which Christianity can imagine 
 or record, occupied his genius and his hand in a thousand 
 ways. In numerous drawings, in pictures, in bas-reliefs, 
 he poured forth his homage, his sympathy, the whole 
 wealth of his passionate phantasy, to tlie mourning 
 mother: and in the last work which, as a sculptor, he 
 attempted, the mourning mother holding her dead son 
 appeared. 
 
 The immense fame which Michael Angelo had been 
 gaining, Florence yearned both to share and to increase; 
 and to Florence not unwillingly he again turned his steps. 
 At Florence he threw his whole energy for eighteen months 
 into a colossal statue known as the Young David. In 
 September, 1504, the statue was thrown open to public 
 view on the spot near the old palace which it still 
 adorns. Besides lavish applause, he received four hun¬ 
 dred ducats. During a riot in 1527, the left arm of 
 the Young David was broken, but immediately restored. 
 In 1843 the work -was subjected to a cleaning and repair¬ 
 ing process, Lorenzo Bartolini being employed. 
 
 Many other sculptures of Michael Angelo at this 
 period it is not easy to chronicle or characterize, for 
 much which amazed and enchanted contemporaries has 
 perished, and of much it is impossible to establish the 
 authenticity. 
 
 Michael Angelo was one of those who, when wearied 
 with toil, seek relief, not in absolute rest, but in variety of 
 occupation. Throwing down the chisel, he took up the 
 brush and painted a Holy Family. This picture is of a 
 circular form, and represents the kneeling Virgin giving 
 to St. Joseph, over her shoulder, the infant Jesus. In 
 the background are naked figures meant for angels, but 
 more resembling athletes, and with muscles exaggerated 
 almost to deformity. Never had Michael Angelo so vic¬ 
 toriously manifested the force and the boldness of his 
 genius. Grace, beauty, and softness, however, flowing 
 and natural lines, simple composition, fresh and magic 
 colouring, were all absent. 
 
 A learned man, by his thorough and persistent study of 
 anatomy, Michael Angelo was likewise a learned man in a 
 more exclusively literary sense; and he seems, from time 
 to time, to have felt the same need of literature as a pre¬ 
 dominant pursuit as of the plastic or the pictorial art. 
 Renouncing alike the chisel and the brush as if for ever, 
 he abandoned himself to loving commune with the most 
 renowned Italian authors, and poured forth the tenderness 
 of his strong soul in sonnets. 
 
 The Florentine Government wished the walls of the 
 principal hall of the old palace at Florence to be covered 
 with frescoes. Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo 
 were to be the artists. The subjects were to be from 
 Florentine history. Both artists furnished cartoons, but 
 the frescoes were not executed. The “ Combat of Ca¬ 
 valry,” by Leonaixli da Vinci, was surpassed by Michael 
 Angelo’s “ Episode from the War of Pisa;” the Pisans, 
 when bathing, surprised by the Florentines, and hastening 
 to seize their garments and their arms. The very excel¬ 
 lence of this cartoon by Michael Angelo led to its destruc¬ 
 tion. In 1512 the envious Bandinelli cut it to pieces. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 163 
 
 Engravings, however, have preserved for posterity a faint 
 outline of the mighty idea which the great artist strove 
 to incorporate. 
 
 To Alexander VI. succeeded on the Papal throne the 
 warlike and impetuous Julius II., for Pius III.’s brief 
 reign of twenty-six days is scarcely more than a chrono¬ 
 logical fact. Julius had grand conceptions and aspira¬ 
 tions. He saw in Michael Angelo a nature kindred to his 
 own, and he urged him to come to Rome. The artist 
 obeyed. A favourite plan of the Pope was the erection 
 for himself during his lifetime of an immense mausoleum. 
 With the execution of the mausoleum Michael Angelo 
 was charged. He began with his accustomed zeal, force, 
 and inventiveness; but he was continually thwarted by 
 the caprices of Julius and the calumnies and machinations 
 of rivals. After spending a considerable time at Carrara 
 in getting ready the materials necessary for the tomb; 
 after finishing a few statues, some of which are now in 
 the Louvre; after dreaming for a moment of cutting a 
 mountain of marble into a colossus, Michael Angelo saw, 
 on his return to Rome, that the Pope had been lending an 
 ear too credulous to the voice of detraction. He was 
 refused admittance once when he sought the Pope’s pre¬ 
 sence to obtain money which he had advanced to the 
 workmen at Carrara. “ When the Pope has need of me,” 
 he said, indignantly, to the valet, “ you can tell him that 
 I have gone away.” He forthwith departed, nor stopped 
 till he had reached the Tuscan territory. Many couriers 
 were sent after him, but he was deaf to their supplications 
 and their menaces, travelling without delay to Florence. 
 Through the Florentine Government the Pope assailed 
 with fierce threats and incessant commands the fugitive, 
 to which the latter was in no mood to give heed. It is 
 even said that Michael Angelo was on the point of leaving 
 Italy, and of accepting an invitation to Constantinople to 
 build a bridge over the Golden Horn. But the Florentine 
 Government lent its kind offices to reconcile the imperious 
 Pope and the haughty and resentful artist. It was armed 
 with the sacred and inviolable title of Florentine ambas¬ 
 sador that Michael Angelo ventured again to meet the 
 Pope. The moment the Pope, then at Bologna, saw the 
 artist who had been transformed into an ambassador, he 
 said to him, angrily, “ It was for you to come to me; yet 
 you have compelled me to come to you.” Some days after, 
 the Pope, being in a milder and more forgiving mood, 
 ordered Michael Angelo to execute a colossal statue in 
 bronze of him, the tough and turbulent Julius. The Pope 
 remained at Bologna till the model was finished. With 
 the right hand raised, the attitude of the figure was in 
 the highest degree menacing. The Pope asked whether 
 the figure was represented blessing or cursing. “ Holy 
 Father,” said Michael Angelo, “ it is warning the people 
 of Bologna to be prudent.” In the left hand the artist 
 had placed a book. “ Put a sword instead; I do not pre¬ 
 tend to be a learned man,” cried the fiery pontiff. Sixteen 
 long and earnest months were bestowed on the statue. 
 It was erected with becoming pomp in front of one of the 
 Bolognese churches; but in 1511, during an insurrection, 
 it was dashed to pieces by the people. Out of a portion 
 
 of the fragments Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, made a can¬ 
 non, to which he gave the name of Giulia. 
 
 The work to which Michael Angelo owes the most bril¬ 
 liant and enduring part of his glory, he undertook with 
 indescribable repugnance, and only at the stern and reite¬ 
 rated command of the Pope. Julius was desirous of en¬ 
 riching with frescoes the ceiling of the chapel iu the 
 Vatican which had been built by Sixtus IV. From 
 ignoble motives—though the statement, like many similar 
 statements, is questionable — Bramante and Raphael 
 pressed the Pope to employ Michael Angelo. They 
 hoped that, by venturing on a department of art with 
 which he was unacquainted, Michael Angelo would forfeit 
 the renown which he had acquired as a sculptor. But the 
 heroic Michael Angelo made everything bend to his 
 puissant and adamantine will. Fie was merely stimulated 
 and invigorated by what would have dismayed and para¬ 
 lysed others. The very scaffolding, simple and solid, was 
 of his own invention. Flis cartoons being ready, he felt 
 that, opulent and courageous as his genius was, he could 
 not extemporize the know'edge and the practice of fresco- 
 painting. Many second-rate artists were brought from 
 Florence to instruct him. Scarcely had he seized the 
 process, when he dismissed the poor drudges somewhat 
 roughly. From an improper choice and imperfect prepa¬ 
 ration of materials, damp and other defects began to 
 manifest themselves; but these, by the counsel of an ex¬ 
 perienced friend, were remedied. Pope Julius watched 
 Michael Angelo with intense interest. With his habitual 
 impatience, Julius threw the w r ork open to the gaze of the 
 Romans in November, 1509, though it was not quite half- 
 finished. Three years after, the Romans were able to 
 behold the work in its completeness and majesty. Both 
 in the selection of subjects and in their handling it is 
 notable for that singular blending of Paganism and Chris¬ 
 tianity which distinguishes Roman-catholic art. Before 
 Michael Angelo, fresco-painting had often been little more 
 than a tawdry and fantastical embellishment. His in¬ 
 trepid soul inspired it, clothed it with an epical character. 
 Where there were difficulties, Michael Angelo seemed to 
 delight in increasing them. All the materials he needed 
 were mainly prepared by himself. Having to keep his 
 eyes continually raised for four years and a half, he was a 
 long time in getting his head and neck back to their 
 natural position, and thus he had no small trouble when 
 reading. Pope Julius complained that the sublime Scrip¬ 
 tural figures on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel had a 
 look of poverty, and recommended gilding. But Michael 
 Angelo emphatically protested, saying, “ Holy Father, the 
 men whom I have painted up there did not wear gold 
 when living. They were not rich but saintly personages, 
 who despised wealth.” It was true of Michael Angelo 
 himself, that he despised wealth when compared with the 
 claims and dignity of art. For the poem which he had 
 painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel he received 
 sixteen thousand ducats, rather more than six thousand 
 pounds. To those who have not visited Rome, the won¬ 
 ders on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel are known by 
 engravings. But how many pilgrims have visited Rome, 
 
 y 2 
 
m 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 perhaps attracted by those wonders alone ! Sad that what 
 is so divine should be so perishable, and that the wrath of 
 nature or the barbarity of man may in a few instants 
 hurl to ruin what so many generations have crowded to 
 adore. 
 
 Early in 1513, Julius II. died. His successor, Leo X., 
 loved art, but loved art graceful rather than art sublime ; 
 and the sweetness, the elegance, the exquisite finish of 
 Raphael were more to his liking than the Titanic auda¬ 
 cities of Michael Angelo. During the reign of Leo, 
 therefore, which lasted till the end of 1521, and which is 
 so memorable in connexion with the Reformation, Michael 
 Angelo was torn away from congenial occupation and 
 compelled to obey tbe Pope’s despotic caprice. The ag¬ 
 grandizement of his family and the embellishment of his 
 native city were objects more passionately and pertina¬ 
 ciously pursued by the Pope than the victories of con¬ 
 summate and diversified art at Rome. Precious years of 
 the artist’s life were wasted in obtaining enormous masses 
 of marble from the quarries at Carrara and Seravezza for 
 monuments at Florence. Some of the monuments pro¬ 
 posed were never begun, some of them were never finished, 
 and some of them slowly marched to completeness after 
 Leo’s death. 
 
 If, in reference to the arts, Michael Angelo and Leo X. 
 were not in absolute harmony, between Michael Angelo 
 and Adrian VI., who was pope from the beginning of 
 1522 till the autumn of 1523, there was flagrant dishar¬ 
 mony. Adrian, an honest but heavy and pedantic 
 Fleming, had a contempt so undisguised for art and cul¬ 
 ture, that he was called by the Italians the Barbarous 
 Pontiff. To antagonize the.Reformation, he strove to re¬ 
 generate the Roman Catholic Church. The ancient pre¬ 
 ceptor of the Emperor Charles V., he followed a policy 
 abjectly servile toward the schemes of his ambitious pupil. 
 When Adrian died, the Romans expressed their joy by an 
 almost tumultuous indecency. Beyond a few figures 
 added to the Mausoleum of Julius, the indefatigable hands 
 of Michael Angelo gave, while Adrian reigned, no sign of 
 their ancient skill and pith. 
 
 Clement VII., the successor of Adrian VI., whose reign 
 extended to September, 1534, was a Medici, and he had 
 the marked Medicean genius. He had the sentiment for 
 art of a Medici and of an Italian; but the progress of 
 the Reformation, the restlessness of the Italian princes, 
 the anarchy of the Italian cities, the fierce rivalry of 
 Charles V. and of Francis I., offered him complicated and 
 formidable problems to solve, which thwarted his 
 systematic activity as a promoter of the arts. On the 
 whole, his patronage and sympathy were of signal benefit 
 to Michael Angelo, whom he encouraged as an architect, 
 though instinctively Michael Angelo was more a sculptor 
 than a painter, more a painter than an architect, more an 
 architect than a poet, more a poet than a mechanician. 
 
 In February, 1525, the battle of Pavia was fought. 
 Just a year after, we come upon a quaint but interesting- 
 letter of Francis I. to Michael Angelo, in reference to two 
 sculptures of the artist, one of which, “ The Christ Bearing 
 the Cross,” had been recently created. In the Church of 
 
 La Minerva at Rome this Christ continues to kindle the 
 rapture of the spectator and to exalt the rapture into 
 veneration. 
 
 The “ Christ Bearing the Cross” might almost be re¬ 
 garded as the fittest symbol of Italy at the period. There 
 was the burden of an unspeakable anguish as the prelude 
 to an anguish still more cruel. The sympathies, the acti¬ 
 vities of Clement VII. sought to further the fortunes of the 
 Medicean family more than to aggrandize the popedom, and 
 to aggrandize the popedom more than to aid the emanci¬ 
 pation ol Italy. In May, 1527, occurred the sack of 
 Rome by the thirty thousand furious troops of the Con¬ 
 stable de Bourbon. Less than now had Rome suffered 
 from the ferocities of the Goths and the Vandals. Every¬ 
 thing became the prey of the brutal soldiers: the con¬ 
 vents were forced, the tombs profaned, the altars robbed, 
 the library of the Vatican torn into a hideous ruin, the 
 godlike productions of Michael Angelo and Raphael de¬ 
 stroyed or defiled. Wild bands of robbers completed the 
 work of lust, of rapine, and of havoc. No solitary episode 
 was the capture of Rome. Forty years of wars and of ra¬ 
 vages had made Italy desolate. It is asserted that the 
 major part of the Italian peasants had perished by the 
 sword, by famine, or by pestilence. In such tragic cir¬ 
 cumstances it was perhaps a relief to Michael Angelo that 
 his marvellous gifts as a mechanician were brought into 
 play. Peace had been established between the Pope and 
 the Emperor. The programme of their alliance included 
 the restoration of the Medici at Florence. To this scheme 
 the Florentine Government determined to offer the most 
 strenuous resistance. Florence was put into a state of 
 complete defence. The labours connected therewith were 
 undertaken by various architects and engineers: to 
 Michael Angelo the supreme direction was entrusted. 
 Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, had improved the art of fortifi¬ 
 cation. Michael Angelo paid a visit to Ferrara to study 
 the improvements. During this visit, the Duke said 
 jestingly to Michael Angelo, that he considered the artist 
 as his prisoner. He made Michael Angelo promise to give 
 him, as the price of his liberty, a picture or a piece of 
 sculpture. His own fertile and fervid brain, and the 
 lessons learned at Ferrara, enabled Michael Angelo to for¬ 
 tify Florence in the mode the most organic and effectual. 
 The siege having begun, the artist valiantly and con¬ 
 tinually placed himself at the most exposed points. 
 Having, however, been insulted or wronged by the Go¬ 
 vernment, he fled from Florence to Venice. At Venice he 
 made certain ingenious but resultless proposals for the 
 construction or reconstruction of Venetian bridges. The 
 absence of Michael Angelo from Florence was severely felt 
 by the besieged. A deputation was sent, humbly, ear¬ 
 nestly imploring his return. His patriotism prevailed over 
 his anger : behold him again at his post of peril. By his 
 order the spires were covered with bales of wool, which 
 shielded them in the main from injury. On one of the 
 bastions Michael Angelo sculptured in demi-relief a figure 
 representing military virtue. Spite, however, of all that 
 Michael Angelo and others achieved, Florence, torn by 
 intestine divisions, and betrayed by the mercenary troops 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 1C5 
 
 and tlieir leaders, was forced, in August, 1530, to sur¬ 
 render. To avoid the horrors of pillage, the Florentines 
 engaged to pay eight thousand crowns. The contemptible 
 Alexander Medici was made Duke of Florence. 
 
 Proscribed, Michael Angelo sought shelter in the house 
 of a friend from the vengeance of the triumphant Medi- 
 ceans. Ere long, however, the Pope pardoned the artist, 
 who, braced by patriotic sacrifices, recommenced, though 
 in no joyous mood, his noble creations. Even while the 
 siege lasted he had, as a sculptor, begun some groups or 
 single figures. To fulfil likewise his promise to the Duke 
 of Ferrara, he had, amid the roar of combat and the crash 
 of artillery, painted a Leda, which was not more con¬ 
 spicuous for talent than for indecency. This picture 
 having travelled into France, was burned by a zealot in the 
 time of Louis XIII. Many of Michael Angelo’s other pro¬ 
 ductions had in France no better doom. While thus hosts 
 of his more elaborate performances have perished, things 
 which he intended not for the world, for posterity, have 
 survived. Calling on a former pupil he found hi m absent. 
 Michael Angelo drew a colossal head and left this as a 
 visiting card. The drawing, which has come down to us, 
 has sometimes been spoken of as a satire on Raphael’s 
 frescoes. There does not seem to be any ground for this 
 malignant interpretation. 
 
 The favourite church of the Medici at Florence was 
 that of San Lorenzo. An enlargement and immense 
 transformations and enrichments of it had been resolved 
 on by Leo X. Some part of the design, but not the 
 principal part of it, was realized. His most diversified 
 attributes as an artist, Michael Angelo manifested in the 
 plan and the construction of the Laurentian Library, ap¬ 
 pertaining to the Church of San Lorenzo, though the 
 entire decoration of the building was not terminated when 
 Michael Angelo died. A new sacristy for the Church of 
 San Lorenzo had been projected, but left unfinished, by 
 Brunelleschi. With essential, and perhaps not always 
 happy, modifications of his predecessor’s idea, Michael 
 Angelo completed the sacristy, which is also called The 
 Chapel of the Tombs. The sacristy—a regular square, 
 crowned by a circular cupola—is not deemed one of 
 Michael Angelo’s most fortunate architectural feats; but 
 its two mausoleums are among the choicest treasures of 
 which art can boast. Julian de Medici, Duke of Nemours, 
 the son, and Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbino, the 
 grandson, of Lorenzo the Magnificent, were far from de¬ 
 serving such splendid monuments; the first was infinitely 
 contemptible, the second infinitely odious. A statue of 
 Jidian himself, and symbolical statues of Day and Night, 
 are the prominent features of Julian’s tomb; besides a 
 statue of Lorenzo himself, symbolical statues of Dawn 
 and Twilight distinguish Lorenzo’s tomb. The statue of 
 Lorenzo, the infamous father of the infamous Catherine 
 de Medici, so admirably expresses remorseful contem¬ 
 plation, that it has been named Thought, or The Thoughtful: 
 it suggested Milton’s well-known poem on Melancholy. 
 Strozzi, a contemporary of Michael Angelo, celebrated 
 the statue of Night in these words —“ The Night which 
 thou seest sleeping in an attitude so sweet, was sculptured 
 
 by an Angel (Angelo) ; forasmuch as she sleeps, she lives. 
 If thou doubtest this, awake her, and she will speak to 
 thee.” But the artist, mindful that the Medici had ruined 
 his country, and robbed it of its freedom, and that none 
 had been more guilty than Julian and Lorenzo, replied in 
 verses to this effect :—“ It is happiness for me to be asleep, 
 higher happiness still to be of marble in these days of 
 misery and of shame. To see nothing, to feel nothing, is 
 a blessing immense for me, therefore awake me not; and, 
 for mercy’s sake, speak low.” In addition, there is in the 
 sacristy of San Lorenzo a Madonna which the artist left 
 imperfect. Critics miss in this Madonna the Greek sim¬ 
 plicity ; and though it is allowed that the movement of 
 the infant Jesus, when turning towards his mother, is 
 true and graceful; yet it is objected that there is a prodi¬ 
 gality of muscle which would not be out of place in a 
 young Hercules. 
 
 Alexander Farnese, who, as Paul III., succeeded 
 Clement VII. in 1534, and who sat on the Papal throne 
 till 1549, was an able man, an accomplished politician; 
 and even Ranke has not been sparing in commendations 
 of him. Paul III. was sincere in his desire for the refor¬ 
 mation of the Church, which involved three hundred years 
 ago the suppression of schism and the extirpation of 
 heresy. From that desire sprang the Council of Trent. 
 The alliance of Paul III. with the Emperor Charles V. 
 threatened Protestantism with utter annihilation; well 
 was it for Protestantism, therefore, and for the freedom of 
 Europe, that the Pope and the Emperor quarrelled. In¬ 
 clined to nepotism, Paul nevertheless had no prejudices or 
 interests leading him, like the Medici, away from Rome; 
 he was as willing as the greatest of the Popes to make 
 Rome the centre of Christian art and of Christian civi¬ 
 lization. The long reign of Paul III. was therefore de¬ 
 cidedly favourable to Michael Angelo. Paul’s muni¬ 
 ficence, however, often did not go farther than words. 
 Overlooking the state of the exchequer, he made generous 
 promises, which he was unable to keep. We may doubt, 
 then, whether the salary of twelve hundred crowns, which 
 he conferred on Michael Angelo in 1535, was regularly 
 paid ; but he encouraged the artist, and endeavoured to 
 free him from the cares and the anxieties which hinder so 
 seriously the calm development of genius. First had to 
 be completed the monument to Julius II., which had 
 lingered so long, and which had always been shrinking 
 into smaller and smaller dimensions ; it was placed in the 
 church of San Pietro ad Vincula at Rome; its most cha¬ 
 racteristic and celebrated feature is the statue of Moses, 
 unanimously pronounced the masterpiece alike of Michael 
 Angelo and of modern sculpture. As Michael Angelo’s 
 taste was not equal to his genius, as he w r as the ^Eschylus 
 —not the Sophocles—of sculpture, criticism has detected 
 faults in the Moses, though applauding it with enthusiasm 
 as sublime. 
 
 That the two extremities of the Sistine Chapel should 
 be as gorgeously adorned as the ceiling by the hand of 
 Michael Angelo, was equally the wish of Clement VII. 
 and of Paul III. On the one wall, the “ Fall of the 
 Rebel Angels” was to be represented; on the other, the 
 
166 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 “ Last Judgment.” The former of these intended pictures 
 was not executed. For seven or eight years was Michael 
 Angelo again busy in the Sistine Chapel. On Christmas- 
 day, 1541, the “Last Judgment” was unveiled to the 
 eager gaze of the crowd. But this huge fresco painting 
 excites awe, almost horror, more than admiration ; it con¬ 
 tains three hundred figures, which critics commonly ar¬ 
 range into eleven groups ; in the middle of the eleventh 
 group, and above the centre of the picture, Christ is seen 
 condemning myriads of the human race to eternal woe. 
 Christ, here, is arrayed in no celestial beauty; there is no 
 gleam of pity, there is not even the passionless serenity 
 of the judge ; but there is wrath i < exorable, there is hatred 
 inextinguishable. The other groups exhibit the dead 
 starting from the grave at the sound of the trumpet, and 
 the elect and the damned in the most contrasted positions. 
 It is the province of art to idealize; but it was the ten¬ 
 dency of Michael Angelo to be more realistic than nature 
 —for even nature is herself an idealist. Painting may be 
 allowed to approach the terrible, but never the hideous, 
 the disgusting; it should never stir physical repulsion. 
 Demons, inflicting on hosts of wretches the most frightful 
 punishments, pure poetry would shrink from describing. 
 And is it not a blunder that painting should attempt to 
 make them vivid to the eye? Michael Angelo seems 
 himself to have been conscious that he was carrying the 
 tremendous to the verge of the revolting; for the Virgin 
 Mother, placed at the right hand of Christ, is portrayed 
 averting her shuddering glance. With the gloomy blends 
 the burlesque. In this intensely Christian picture, Charon, 
 after carrying over the souls of the damned, is furiously 
 driving them into the cruel clutch of the demons. The 
 “Inferno” of Dante does not shrink from the same 
 absurdity. One of the groups is formed by purgatory • 
 but a few demons—no souls in process of redemption— 
 are here. What satire can be more bitter ? The Master 
 of Ceremonies to the Pope was Biagio. This Biagio hotly 
 joined the unscrupulous gang of Michael Angelo’s de¬ 
 tractors. The artist took his revenge; he painted him in 
 hell, making him ridiculous with the ears of an ass. 
 Biagio complained to the Pope. “ In what part of the 
 f Last Judgment’ has he placed you ?” was the Pope’s 
 question. “ In hell,” answered Biagio. “ Thereat am I 
 grieved,” said the Pope; “if you had been in purgatory, 
 the matter would not have been hopeless or irremediable, 
 but from hell there can be no deliverance.” Messer 
 Biagio thus gained an immortality with which he would 
 have been glad to dispense. In the “Last Judgment” 
 the naked figures of saints and sinners alike were reckoned, 
 even by those who were not fastidious, a flagrant outrage 
 on propriety. To vanquish the scandal, Daniel de Volterra, 
 a pupil of Michael Angelo, had to furnish clothing, how¬ 
 ever scanty. The same artist had also to disguise or efface 
 what was too loathsome in the personifications of the 
 seven capital sins. Some critics have only been willing to 
 see in the “Last Judgment” a chaos of energetic ex¬ 
 pression, a riot of muscularity, a parade of anatomical 
 science—anguish and despair exaggerated to monstrosity 
 by a morbid and sombre imagination. Even the critics 
 
 who are more lenient urge the spectator to study the softer 
 and more harmonious frescoes of Raphael and other fore¬ 
 most artists before drawing near to the “ Last Judgment.” 
 From the simply natural we have to ascend to the graceful, 
 from the graceful to the beautiful, from the beautiful to 
 the sublime, and even they who have ascended to the 
 sublime may shrink from the giddy heights and yawning 
 abysses of the horrible. 
 
 In the School of the Fine Arts at Paris there is a copy 
 in oil by Sigalon of the “Last Judgment;” it is the size 
 of the original, and is praised for other merits besides that 
 of exactness. Under the immediate inspection of Michael 
 Angelo himself, a copy, exceedingly perfect, but on a very 
 small scale, w r as executed by Marcello Venusti; the tra¬ 
 veller will find it in the Museum at Naples. The en¬ 
 gravings of the “ Last Judgment,” both as a whole and 
 in groups, are numberless ; indeed, it had already been 
 engraved during the lifetime of the artist. Humidity, and 
 the thousands of tapers which blaze every year in the 
 Sistine Chapel at the ceremonies of the Holy Week, have 
 impaired the lustre of this memorable picture. 
 
 There is a tradition that Michael Angelo, jealous of 
 Raphael, favoured Sebastiano del Piombo as an instrument 
 for counterbalancing Raphael’s glory. From another 
 tradition we learn that Michael Angelo, when about to 
 paint the “Last Judgment,” quarrelled with Sebastiano. 
 The latter had persuaded the Pope that the painting should 
 be in oil, and preparations had been made to that effect; 
 but Michael Angelo stoutly refused to work otherwise 
 than in fresco, saying that the art of painting in oil was 
 an art fit only for women, or for lazy and cowardly fellows, 
 like Sebastiano del Piombo. Every great man has his 
 weaknesses and smallnesses; but on vague—it may be 
 rancorous—tradition, should we condemn him ? 
 
 For a chapel erected by Paul III., and to which he gave 
 the name of the Pauline Chapel, Michael Angelo painted 
 two frescoes—the Crucifixion of St. Peter, and the Con¬ 
 version of St. Paul. Time has not dealt gently with these 
 two compositions, which are, moreover, marked by com¬ 
 parative feebleness. They were executed when Michael 
 Angelo was more than seventy, and he was in the habit of 
 saying that painting, especially fresco painting, was not 
 adapted to old age. 
 
 Of sculpture, however, he seems to have entertained a 
 far different opinion. He consecrated his leisure moments 
 to a group of four colossal figures, representing Christ taken 
 down from the Cross, and in the arms of the Virgin; 
 Nicodemus, and one of the Maries, beside the mother 
 and the son. Though not finished, this work is yet vene¬ 
 rated as a noble ornament of the Cathedral at Florence. 
 Besides that sculpture was the art to which his soul spon¬ 
 taneously turned, Michael Angelo thought—and in this 
 he was undoubtedly correct—that the use of the mallet 
 was favourable to his health. 
 
 The increasing enslavement and degradation of Italy 
 would have completely paralysed Michael Angelo if he 
 had not been gifted with a will so indomitable. As it 
 was, his discouragement was so overwhelming that he 
 sometimes passed whole days without taking any food; 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 107 
 
 sometimes shut himself up for months, avoiding, as far 
 as this was in his power, all human intercourse. 
 
 If aught could have roused him from his lethargy, it 
 would have been the prodigious enterprise which absorbed 
 the last eighteen years of his life—the building of St. 
 Peter's Church at Pome. "When, in 1546, after the death 
 of San Gallo, this labour was forced on him, he could 
 justly plead old age and insufficient architectural studies; 
 but the pleas were rejected for two reasons. Michael 
 Angelo stood unrivalled, alone, a true, puissant monarch 
 in the domain of art; and he was so accustomed to 
 conquer difficulties and work wonders, that men were 
 unwilling to believe that fatigue or infirmity could ever 
 break him down. And thus, when more than threescore 
 years and ten, he had to gird himself for toil, for endu¬ 
 rance, for persistent and creative endeavour, as if he were 
 in the joyousness of youth, in the vigour of manhood. San 
 Gallo had spent many years in preparing a model of St. 
 Peter’s Church. This model, which cost four thousand 
 crowns, still existed. If it had been executed, a building 
 of a most composite and fantastic character would have 
 been the result—a building, besides, without originality, 
 and a simple plagiarism from all the ancient monuments 
 in the Eternal City. Michael Angelo undertook to furnish 
 a model much more beautiful, and he maintained that if 
 the building were erected in accordance with it, three 
 hundred thousand crowns and the labour of fifty years 
 would be saved. Tbe model cost only twenty-five crowns, 
 and was ready in fifteen days. The Pope accorded to 
 Michael Angelo an absolute liberty to make, or unmake, 
 as he might deem proper. Grateful for this confidence, 
 Michael Angelo, with a magnanimous disinterestedness, 
 refused to receive either salary or reward. He likewise 
 rejected the most brilliant and generous offers of Cosmo I., 
 who sent letter after letter, and messenger after messenger, 
 urging him to come to Florence. Slowly, under his hands, 
 the mighty pile arose which men have agreed to recognise 
 as the consummate architectural marvel of the world. 
 Though unremunerated, so far as silver and gold were 
 concerned, Michael Angelo was not without the customary 
 recompense of genius and heroism. The most venomous 
 detraction, the most cruel persecution assailed him, but 
 he had the unwavering and energetic support of the Popes, 
 however different their characters might be. Julius III., 
 who succeeded Paul III., and who died in March, 1555, 
 neglected public affairs for pleasure, constructed magnifi¬ 
 cent gardens and villas, and was so frivolous and shameless 
 as to confer the Cardinal’s hat on a domestic for the care 
 which he had bestowed on a favourite monkey. Paul IV., 
 Pope from 1555 till August, 1559, was stern, strong, bold, 
 turbulent, implacable. He sought with the same zeal the 
 regeneration of the Church, and the emancipation of Italy 
 from the Spanish yoke. Pius IV., the successor of 
 Paul IV., and in whose reign Michael Angelo died, was 
 weak and worldly, but with a tolerably keen and refined 
 sense for the creations of art. 
 
 AVe have thought it needful to mention the various 
 Popes who, from the beginning of the sixteenth centurv, 
 were the contemporaries of Michael Angelo, because their 
 
 relations to him were of the most important kind, and 
 profoundly moulded his career. Four years before his 
 death he expressed an earnest wish to be freed from the 
 responsibility of being architect to St. Peter’s Church; 
 but Pope Pius IV. would not consent. He was permitted, 
 however, to have assistants, and it was commanded that, 
 n case of his sudden decease, his plans were to be rigidly 
 followed. Subsequently to Michael Angelo’s death, one 
 of the architects, Pyrrhus Legorio, having attempted a 
 single innovation, was at once dismissed. The cupola 
 which Michael Angelo had designed was not finished till 
 1598, and even some years after this, parts of Michael 
 Angelo’s lofty organic scheme still waited their accom¬ 
 plishment. 
 
 Though the erection of St. Peter’s Church was the 
 principal, it was not the exclusive occupation of Michael 
 Angelo during his latter years. He created, or renewed, 
 or finished numerous edifices. The Farnese Palace was 
 completed by him. When the French besieged Rome, in 
 1849, the beautiful entablature of this palace was the only 
 object of art that was injured. The chief hall of the 
 Baths of Diocletian, Michael Angelo converted into a 
 church. Both the church and a conventual building con¬ 
 nected with it, which rests on a hundred columns of white 
 marble, have a loveliness heightened by the simplicity to 
 which Michael Angelo was so often unfaithful. 
 
 The finest equestrian statue remaining to us from an¬ 
 tiquity, that of Marcus Aurelius, Michael Angelo placed 
 on an elegant pedestal. But his restoration of ancient 
 statues, such as the Dying Gladiator, the River God, and 
 so on, have not been pronounced successful. The so-called 
 Farnese Hercules had been found without legs. Michael 
 Angelo undertook to supply the defect. But as soon as 
 the real legs were discovered, their superiority was at once 
 evident. 
 
 Of pictures belonging to this period of Michael Angelo’s 
 career, one of the most notable is the “ Three Fates” in 
 the Pitti Palace. But it is said that many pictures which 
 were attributed to him were only executed from his de¬ 
 signs, while no doubt many which he really executed have 
 been irreparably lost. 
 
 The immense, the inexhaustible productivity of Michael 
 Angelo in every direction, is illustrated in the number of 
 his drawings. There are more than two hundred in the 
 gallery at Florence. At Paris, at Cremona, at Perugia, at 
 Venice, and elsewhere, they are found in like abundance. 
 
 Having nearly completed his eiglity-niutli year, Michael 
 Angelo died on the 17th of February, 1564. A slow fever 
 had hastened the effects of old age, of toil, of anxiety, of 
 despondency, of disenchantment. On the approach of 
 death he made his will in these few words: “ I leave my 
 soul to God, my body to the earth, my property to my 
 nearest relations.” It has been observed that two days 
 before Michael Angelo died, Galileo was born, as if the 
 one great Tuscan were to continue in science the miracles 
 which the other great Tuscan had performed in art. 
 
 None of the portraits of Michael Angelo are con¬ 
 sidered quite authentic. Nor is a bust of bronze at Rome 
 deemed more trustworthy. But his enthusiastic disciple, 
 
168 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 Vasari, has left a vivid description of him. According to 
 Vasari, he was of a healthy and vigorous constitution. In 
 his childhood he was often unwell, and at a later period 
 he had had two serious illnesses. But he was capable of 
 bearing excessive fatigues. He was of middle height, 
 well-proportioned, and had broad shoulders. Toward the 
 end of his life he wore, for whole months, dogskin half¬ 
 boots on his naked legs. His head was round, the brow 
 was square and spacious, and cut by seven straight lines ; 
 the temples were arched, the ears were rather large, Avhile 
 the eyes were rather small, and in colour inclined to grey. 
 The lips were thin, the under one slightly protruding. 
 To black hair, a black beard corresponded, which was 
 forked, and not very thick. Altogether a robust, compact 
 organization, fitted for action and for victory. 
 
 The lamentation of Rome for the death of Michael 
 Angelo was sincere—was- not transient, or theatrical. 
 With great pomp his body was borne to the Church of the 
 Holy Apostles. It was the intention of the Pope that a 
 monument should be raised to Michael Angelo in the 
 Church of St. Peter. But Cosmo I. resolved that Tus¬ 
 cany should not be robbed of the ashes of her gifted son. 
 At Cosmo’s request, therefore, Leonardo Buonarroti, the 
 nephew of Michael Angelo, had the body secretly con¬ 
 veyed away from Rome, disguised as a bale of merchan¬ 
 dize. On arriving at Florence, on the 10th of March, it 
 was first placed in the Chapel of the Assumption, then, 
 the following night, by the light of countless torches, and 
 accompanied by a vast multitude, conveyed to Santa Croce. 
 There the coffin was opened by the vice-president of the 
 Academy, and the pale, but unchanged countenance dis¬ 
 closed to the wondering, adoring gaze of the spectators. 
 The Florentine artists determined to pay the most cordial 
 and ungrudging homage to him whom they revered as 
 their chief, and they appointed a commission to make the 
 needful preparations. On the 14th of July, in the Church 
 of San Lorenzo, the funeral ceremonies took place with a 
 prodigality of decoration and a pomp such as have seldom 
 been seen even when kings are given to the grave. It was 
 not, however, in the Chapel of San Lorenzo, but in what 
 has been named the Florentine Pantheon, the Church of 
 Santa Croce, that the remains of Michael Angelo found 
 their last resting-place. The monument to Michael An¬ 
 gelo in this church was erected by his nephew, Leonardo 
 Buonarroti. It was designed by Vasari. On the sarco- 
 cophagus is the bust of Michael Angelo. Among the 
 ornaments are three crowns, interlaced, symbolizing the 
 three arts in which he equally excelled. There are also 
 three figures representing those three arts—Painting, 
 Sculpture, and Architecture. 
 
 Another monument at Florence consecrates Michael 
 Angelo’s memory. In the house which he inhabited in 
 the Strada Ghibellina, his grand-nephew, also called 
 Michael Angelo, constructed a gallery, whose contents and 
 ornaments were designed to recal circumstances of the 
 artist’s life, and features of his character. In the gallery 
 and in the neighbouring rooms are sculptures, drawings, 
 and manuscripts of Michael Angelo; a sword, and some 
 articles of furniture which belonge d to him; hisportra by 
 
 Bugiardini; his statue by Antonio Novelli. At the foot 
 of the Capitol can still be seen the house in which Michael 
 Angelo died. It is of moderate dimensions; but its elegant 
 vestibule and picturesque staircase have been admired; 
 and the admirers have endeavoured, by drawings, by 
 paintings, by engravings, to make its appearance familiar 
 beyond Italy. 
 
 The poems of Michael Angelo consist chiefly of sonnets 
 and madrigals. Some of them had been published while 
 he was alive. In 1623 the grand-nephew already spoken 
 of gave a complete edition of them, which has been fre¬ 
 quently reproduced. They have all been translated into 
 French; and translations of the most remarkable pieces 
 have enriched other languages. Aretino declared that the 
 poems of Michael Angelo deserved to be placed in an urn 
 of emerald. The Academy De La Crusca decreed their 
 classical perfection. They bear the stamp of Michael 
 Angelo’s massive and masculine mind ; but they are the 
 utterances of his softest, tenderest moods, of his resigna¬ 
 tion ; and with the plaintive, sometimes blends the hu¬ 
 morous. They were written at moments when he was glad 
 to forget the artist who startled or enchanted mankind, 
 and to show how deep and loving was the heart which 
 beat under a rugged breast, seemingly inaccessible to every¬ 
 thing but fame. They have an autobiographical interest 
 apart from their poetical worth, bringing us near as 
 brothers to him of whom we are not ashamed to be the 
 worshippers. 
 
 But Michael Angelo wrote prose quite as well as he 
 wrote poetry. He left dissertations on various subjects of 
 art and philosophy. His correspondence also was extensive 
 with princes, cardinals, artists, and literary men. He 
 proposed to write a treatise on the various movements of 
 the human frame. His knowledge of anatomy, his long 
 experience, his acuteness, his ingenuity, his comprehensive 
 grasp, would have made this treatise of incalculable value 
 to artists. 
 
 There has sometimes been a dispute whether Michael 
 Angelo should be classed among misanthropists. He 
 seemed often to despise, often to shun mankind. But it 
 is probable that he sought solitude for the sake of concen¬ 
 tration. Having beheld also the gradual decline of free¬ 
 dom in Italy, he perhaps felt that art, however glorious, 
 was a poor compensation for national decay. 
 
 Michael Angelo has been compared to Dante. In both, 
 by the side of a Titanic energy there is a pedantic display 
 of learning, so that it has been said that Dante was more 
 a theologian than a poet, and Michael Angelo more an 
 anatomist than a painter. They resemble each other also 
 in their love of the horrible. But Dante is wearisomely 
 monotonous; Michael Angelo has the infinite diversity of 
 Nature. The mind of Michael Angelo was as prolific as 
 it was potent; the mind of Dante was potent only. Art, 
 however, was as little pure art in Michael Angelo as 
 poetry was pure poetry in Dante. The poet and the 
 sculptor alike took a polemical attitude towards their age. 
 They were filled with indignation ; they burned with pro¬ 
 phetic fire; their creations were protests and anathemas. 
 Genius demands genial and congenial environments; or it 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 169 
 
 demands the fortunate temper which is almost a second 
 genius, that can build up those environments. Shakspeare 
 was a pure poet, Raphael a pure artist. Milton, like 
 Dante and Michael Angelo, was tormented by the wrath 
 at wrong, at violence, at degeneracy; and like them he 
 abandoned himself to moral fervours, often moral fero¬ 
 cities, which troubled and darkened his phantasy. It is 
 not the ethical, it is not the heroic in connexion with art, 
 which we condemn, but the antagonistic. As a hero we 
 applaud, we have applauded, Michael Angelo; in his abso¬ 
 lute discord, however, his grim wrestling with the social 
 and political condition of his times, we miss that radiant 
 strength which deserted not even Prometheus in the lone¬ 
 liness of the Caucasian rocks. 
 
 We may divide Michael Angelo’s life into periods, and 
 we shall find that a different spirit animated each. In the 
 first period he was disciplining himself for the mastery; 
 he had the joy, the serenity, we may even add the sim¬ 
 plicity of the artist. In the second period he was the 
 Master: he asserted, he maintained his sovereignty with 
 ease; he expended, by an irresistible instinct, an opulence 
 of vigour. In the third period he was more the despot 
 than the master; he despised rivals, yet was, to a certain 
 extent, jealous of them, and he tried to surpass them, to 
 crush them, not by spontaneous artistic superiority, but by 
 gladiatorial displays, with a dash now and then of leger¬ 
 demain, a legerdemain, however, in which there, was no 
 quackery. In the fourth period there was a great spirit, 
 flashing undimmed, unvanquished, through a cloud of 
 dejection. Here the will was made to do what genius had 
 done at an earlier day. 
 
 Though Michael Angelo excelled in so many things, so 
 that he could pass from plans for Roman gates and Roman 
 fortifications to an immortal idealization in marble of the 
 Virgin and her Son, yet it is manifest that it would have 
 been better if he had consecrated himself wholly to sculp¬ 
 ture. This was his natural vocation. And through his 
 fidelity to this, the harmony between the artist and the 
 man would never have been broken. He would still have 
 been the hero, hut the hero glad and genial, and he would 
 have consoled us by numberless statues and groups of 
 statues for the buried marvels of antiquity, of which, 
 when the smallest fragment is found, a mutilated limb, a 
 headless and limbless bust, it is considered in itself a 
 treasure for a museum. 
 
 The influence of Michael Angelo on Italian art was 
 disastrous. A false taste for the grandiose and the exag¬ 
 gerated arose. The art which conceals art gave place to 
 the ambition of climbing through the erudite to the mon¬ 
 strous. Not yet had the sun set: but it was going down 
 in a lurid sky which red and angry gleams rendered more 
 lurid still. The Titans had scaled Olympus and dethroned 
 the Gods, and then pigmies dethroned the Titans, and 
 tried in vain to wield their weapons. 
 
 But Michael Angelo was so truly a foremost man that 
 we feel as if it were almost a crime to criticise him. Let 
 us rather be grateful that Nature, at intervals however 
 long, produces mighty ones like him. In the art, in the 
 poetry of all ages, we cannot find twenty of our race to 
 6 
 
 be his companions. Nearly everything which he produced 
 is perishable. Yet, even if his works of art were every one 
 to vanish, even if nothing were to survive of the incom¬ 
 parable artist but the name, there would still be the in¬ 
 spiring memory of the patriot, of the hero, of an energetic 
 soul that could defy despair itself. And even they who 
 care nothing for art, even they who contemn it, may gain 
 valour and panoply from commune with the colossal career 
 of Michael Angelo. 
 
 THE ART OF DECORATIVE DESIGN. 
 
 BY C. DRESSER, PH.D. 
 
 An inquiry into the character of the ornamental arts is 
 always attended with difficulty, since it resolves itself into 
 an investigation of the beautiful, and beauty only exists 
 relatively. "W e may say that beauty is that quality of an 
 object which gratifies or delights the soul of the beholder; 
 but here, at the onset, we are met by an obstacle, as that 
 which gratifies one mind is unwelcome to another, and the 
 form which to one individual is pleasing is to others with¬ 
 out comeliness. This diversity of opinion respecting the 
 one thing is not peculiar to decoration, for it has its coun¬ 
 terpart in all the aesthetic arts. In music, sounds which 
 to the ear of the savage are grateful, are discordant to the 
 more refined musician; and in respect to taste, that which 
 is palatable to one is nauseous to another. The satisfying, 
 then, may be rude, or it may be chaste: if an object, it 
 may be clumsy in form, or refined in shape, and in colour, 
 gaudy or subdued; and if sound, it may be sweet and 
 tender, or harsh and crude; hence, if beauty is that 
 quality of an object which delights the soul, it is of vari¬ 
 able character, and the same form which is beautiful when 
 viewed by one individual is not beautiful when viewed by 
 another; for in the one case the mind is gratified, and 
 in the other offended. 
 
 The taste, like the hand, is susceptible of cultivation. 
 The child who cannot hold the pen, ultimately writes; and 
 with the taste, that which is nauseous to the infant is fre¬ 
 quently palatable to the adult; and that which the uncul¬ 
 tivated cannot appreciate, the connoisseur greatly relishes. 
 It is so in respect to sounds, and it is so in respect to 
 forms; for shapes and sounds which are unwelcome we learn 
 to admire. 
 
 Beauty, then, in the case of the individual, is con¬ 
 stantly, undergoing a progressive change. It is like the 
 plant which alters its form as it unfolds itself, or the child 
 which is ever undergoing mutation as it develops into man : 
 it changes in the history of every individual who is the 
 subject of cultivation, and passes through many phases in 
 the experience of each; for that which appeared to be beau¬ 
 tiful last year does not appear so this year, and that which 
 we cannot now appreciate we may value ere long; yet the 
 constant advancement towards the perfect ideal will not 
 here apply, for our conception of the perfect not only daily 
 alters, but differs in the case of two individuals : hence, it 
 cannot be conceived of, and we cannot be said to be ap- 
 
170 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 proaching this one goal; nor can it be said of any indivi¬ 
 dual that he now knows what beauty is. 
 
 Beauty has also been defined as that which arises from 
 the absence of any want ; but here we have a difficulty 
 similar to that which we have already encountered ; for 
 where one individual feels no want another sees a defi¬ 
 ciency, and that which to one is perfect appears fit only for 
 a part to another; and we know of no definition of beauty 
 which is not associated with like difficulties; indeed, it 
 cannot be otherwise, for the most careful and prolonged 
 consideration only leads us to join Schleiden in thanking 
 God—not because He has made the world and the things 
 that dwell on it beautiful, but because He has placed in 
 man a soul capiable of creating to itself beauty, when per¬ 
 ceiving the objects with which it is surrounded. 
 
 Recognising the truth that there is no such thing as the 
 perfection of beauty, and taking cognizance of the fact that 
 two individuals may differ in respect to the aesthetic quali¬ 
 ties of a form or composition, we yet find that a class of 
 men have existed in nearly all ages who have diligently 
 cultivated that faculty of the mind from which beauty 
 springs in the direction which meditation and reason have 
 dictated; and in the works of these men general prin¬ 
 ciples prevail, and the recognition of common laws is 
 manifested. 
 
 These inquiries into the nature of beauty will be of value 
 in respect to our following considerations, for they enable 
 us to see more clearly the extent to which we may go, the 
 nature of the investigation before us, and the conclusions 
 which we may hope to reach. We cannot discover the 
 laws which govern the production of the beautiful ab¬ 
 stractedly, nor the road even, which conducts to a know¬ 
 ledge of perfection in form, nor can we refer our opinions 
 to an iufallible test for confirmation or refutation; all that 
 we can do is, procure the judgment of those who have de¬ 
 voted long years to such researches, and examine into the 
 practice of ages in which art flourished, being nursed in the 
 arms of tenderness. 
 
 We inquire, then, into what is necessary in decoration 
 in order to satisfy the cultivated mind ; and first it may be 
 remarked, that the ornamental composition, of whatever 
 character it be, must embody the mind of its producer. 
 The most exalted gratification of man rests in the power 
 which his spirit possesses of communing with other spirits : 
 to this faculty of interchanging thought man is indebted 
 for half his knowledge as well as his greatest pleasures; 
 and in the absence of this power the man would be com¬ 
 paratively uneducated, uninformed, unenlightened. This 
 source of exalted pleasure can be embodied in ornament; 
 for the man, while yet dead, may speak through his works. 
 It is the mind which exalts man above all other creatures, 
 and constitutes him a superior being,—it is this which 
 enables him to subdue creatures of greater magnitude and 
 strength than himself. Yea, the mind is the man; hence, 
 if mind be absent from his works, the ennobling part is 
 wanting, and they sink in consequence to mere mechanical 
 productions. 
 
 Not only must mind be embodied in the ornamental 
 composition, in order that it be satisfying, but the senti¬ 
 
 ments of the age in which it is created must also be ac 
 knowledged. In order that a work of any description gai’ 
 sympathy, it must in some way personally concern thos 
 whose interest it is to awaken, for we can feel but litt 1 
 interest in that which in no way concerns us; and if d. 
 corative art is ever to be cherished by the people at largq 
 it must draw forth their affections by embodying theii 
 knowledge. It is impossible that ornament do otherwise 
 than engage the attention of the people, if it be a setting 
 forth of the knowledge of the day of its birth; for if any 
 are unjustly represented, they wall not delay in expressing 
 their feelings concerning the injury done them. What 
 Englishman likes to see his countrymen represented on the 
 French stage as antiquated individuals robed in blue coats 
 adorned with lustrous brass buttons ? The feeling of dis¬ 
 satisfaction at this misrepresentation has even made Mr. 
 Punch, if not his dog, protest against such injustice in 
 his amusing Almanack. If every ornament be a repre¬ 
 sentation of some circumstance, or of our knowledge, we 
 may be sure of popular interest; for if one party or theory 
 be unjustly dealt by, its advocates would not be slow to 
 say so, and if the one side were flattered others would find 
 fault. Till ornament does express the sentiments of the 
 age in which it is created, we can never hope that it will 
 receive that constant attention and warm sympathy which 
 it must have in order that it take up and maintain its just 
 position. 
 
 In every age in which decorative art has flourished, it 
 has embodied and expressed the sentiments or faith of the 
 people. The Renaissance ornament was an expression of 
 the Renaissance period; and the Mediaeval forms, of the 
 faith of the Middle Ages. What could more fitly set 
 forth the Christian faith than the pelican pecking itself 
 till its blood issues forth in order to nourish its young ? 
 The passion-flower, the cross, trefoil, quatrefoil, and many 
 other forms, had each a class signification ; so that the 
 decorative forms were as mirrors reflecting the faith of the 
 beholder, and they are yet as mirrors which reflect the 
 same image of faith to us, though at a broad angle, as we 
 are far removed by time from the period at which the 
 faith of the Middle Ages prevailed. The Greek ornament, 
 while without symbolic forms, speaks of the refinement 
 which was so diligently sought and successfully attained 
 by the people of the Classic age ; and every form in 
 Egyptian decoration had an acknowledged significance, 
 which caused it to speak as clearly-written characters. 
 Ornamental art, where it has floui’ished, has ever spoken 
 the sentiments, knowledge, or faith of the people who 
 have created it, and must again do so before it will draw 
 to itself that sympathy which is necessary to its due 
 advancement. 
 
 This brings us to inquire whether it is possible to ex¬ 
 press our knowledge in decorative forms. We argue that 
 it is. Yet an expression of religious sentiments in a 
 national system of decoration cannot take place; for, 
 unless there is unanimity of sentiment, there can be no 
 expression of faith. What must find utterance in a 
 national system of ornamentation is our secular know¬ 
 ledge,—our knowledge of nature, as revealed to us 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 171 
 
 through the sciences, and of refinement; and it is the 
 possibility of expressing this knowledge which we shall 
 endeavour briefly to establish. Some will object that 
 secular knowledge should never be embodied in the deco¬ 
 ration of an ecclesiastical edifice, and that we do not 
 admit the embodiment of religious sentiments. No one 
 will more strongly object to a manifest embodiment of 
 secular knowledge in the decoration of a building in¬ 
 tended for the purposes of worship, than the writer of 
 this article; yet we cannot approve of the appropriating 
 Mediaeval symbols, for the Middle-age faith has passed. 
 We would have “ the house of prayer” adorned with little 
 besides the worshipper, as nothing should seduce us from 
 worship while in the temple of the Most High ; still we 
 feel strongly that the Creator is worthy of being wor¬ 
 shipped in the most exalted edifice which human hands 
 can rear; yet, as He commands that He be worshipped in 
 “ spirit and in truth,” we would rather, for our own part, 
 not expose ourselves to the possibility of being seduced 
 from true worship by ornaments such as the soul delights 
 in. 
 
 While attempting to illustrate the possibility of em¬ 
 bodying knowledge in ornamental forms, the author of 
 this article must ask every indulgence, as he is not pro¬ 
 fessionally engaged as an ornamentist, though at special re¬ 
 quest he has furnished many designs to the manufacturers 
 which have been wrought for the International Exhibition— 
 perhaps as many as any individual; yet, as he has to meet 
 the requirements of an active scientific life, it cannot be 
 expected that he present thoughts clothed in the best garb 
 of decorative forms. He must content himself witli giving 
 forth a few ideas for others to clothe in the richness of 
 their knowledge. 
 
 Ornament, we have seen, has long possessed the power 
 of expressing feelings and ideas through the aid of forms 
 having acknowledged significance; but, pleasing as this 
 mode of expression by the agency of symbols is, yet the 
 power of utterance thus afforded is limited. Orange- 
 blossoms may set forth innocence, and call up reminis¬ 
 cences of Hymen’s altar; holly and mistletoe will express 
 Christmas and evoke thoughts of merriment and joy; the 
 violet will typify humility, leaf-buds spring; a profusion 
 of flowers, summer; ripe fruits, autumn; and leafless 
 branches, winter. Yet the number of such symbols is 
 few ; consequently they afford no great means of express¬ 
 ing thought. 
 
 In order that a symbolic art be powerful in utterance, it 
 is necessary that the people have cognizance of the purport 
 of the forms used, and of the circumstances to which they 
 have refei’ence; for, in the absence of this knowledge, the 
 decoration, through not being understood, ceases to be 
 impressive. 
 
 Relative to the desirability of embodying knowledge in 
 ornamental forms, all will be agreed, as we have seen, 
 that such is necessary; yet we cannot hope that symbolism 
 will again prevail, for to it there is the drawback that the 
 significance of the form must be known, in order to an 
 understanding of the ornament: hence the causing deco¬ 
 rative forms to express thoughts, feelings, and ideas, 
 
 without the aid of recognised symbols, becomes of in¬ 
 terest. 
 
 The most simple agency by which the thought of ascen¬ 
 sion can be called to mind, is by the arrow with its apex 
 uplifted, and of descension by an arrow inverted (winged 
 arrows will be most expressive); but the ideas evoked by 
 such a use of this simple form are necessarily indefinite. 
 In order that a sense of ascension and descension be more 
 perfectly evoked, a more complicated mode of expression 
 must be adopted, which shall be an embodiment of occur¬ 
 rences or effects associated by the mind with these acts. 
 An umbrella, if moved through the air with considerable 
 velocity in such a manner that the handle follows, will have 
 its web pressed closely against the stick; a bird, when in 
 rapid flight, has its feathers pressed against the body; a 
 parachute during ascent is closed : but should the umbrella 
 be pulled downwards through the air, it will be forced open; 
 a bird when descending has its wings uplifted, and the 
 parachute is open; hence these bodies, when in these 
 particular conditions, will tend to induce the mind to ori¬ 
 ginate to itself the thought of ascension and descension. 
 As an illustration of what is necessary, in order to the 
 awaking the thought of ascension and descension, we give 
 these examples, which are of a simple character. 
 
 Our next idea is that of a “ Hobgoblin,” which is said 
 to be a creature with eyes as large as tea-saucers, resident 
 in Padfoot-lane. It will be found that we associate with 
 our conception of evening the existence of creatures with 
 luminous or terrific eyes; and insects generally impress by 
 their eyes and wings; for although perfectly familiar with 
 the organs of vision in these creatures, we are frequently 
 altogether ignorant of the character of the mouth; and 
 hobgoblins are associated with evening, hence it is necessary 
 to link them with our conception of this portion of the 
 day, and to make them terrific through the magnitude of 
 the eyes. 
 
 In order to the delineation of “ subjects ” in decorative 
 forms, or, rathei', the production of ornamental composi¬ 
 tions such as induce the mind to create to itself given 
 thoughts, and call up the desired associations, it is necessary 
 that an accurate knowledge of what has to be accomplished 
 be obtained. If evening has to be induced, the colour of 
 the evening sky must be discovered, which is difficult when 
 a flat-tint is used; and the changes which colours undergo 
 as twilight advances must be carefully observed:—blue 
 becomes lighter, even considerably so; red darkens, and 
 during the period of the later dusk is dark maroou. 
 Yellow is, of all colours, the most stationary under these 
 circumstances. Not only must these things be noted in 
 respect to colour, but the integral parts which go to make 
 up our conception of evening must be ascertained and 
 made use of. Mushrooms, owls, stars, the moon, and 
 large-eyed monsters, all combine to produce the sense of 
 evening; hence their presence, or the presence of con¬ 
 ventional forms which suggest them, is desirable, if the 
 intention be that of impressing the mind with the thought 
 of departing day. 
 
 We instance these few examples, in order to show the 
 possibility of setting forth thoughts and occurrences in 
 
 z 2 
 
172 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 conventional forms. We might select many others, but 
 space will not permit us so to do. In all cases pictorial 
 illustrations should have colour, yet we hope that this 
 written description will manifest the possibility of ideas 
 being expressed by conventional forms without the aid of 
 symbols. 
 
 ON THE RECENTLY ERECTED BRIDGES OF 
 NORTH-WESTERN EUROPE. 
 
 BY G. R. BURNELL, ESQ. 
 
 With respect to the considerations of the artistic beauty 
 of bridge architecture, it is hard to lay down any absolute 
 laws or canons of taste; because the peculiar local con¬ 
 ditions of every such work must exercise a notable influence 
 upon their mode of construction, and upon the actual 
 effect they are able to produce. At all times it should be 
 the aim of the bridge architect to give a character of mo¬ 
 numental solidity to permanent structures of this descrip¬ 
 tion, and to make them harmonize with the scenery around 
 them, the buildings they may be intended to connect, or 
 the economical purposes they are intended to fulfil. The 
 nature of the materials furnished by a particular locality 
 will, in its turn, greatly affect the style of the design, and 
 sometimes considerations of strategy may require that a 
 bridge should be constructed in a manner which would be 
 objectionable under ordinary circumstances. The best 
 lessons of the manner of dealing with these extrinsic mo¬ 
 difying causes are to be found in the practice of the best 
 artists of former times, and they will pass, with more or 
 less detail, under review; but the general principles of 
 bridge-building, as influenced by the laws of optics, being 
 “not of an age, but of all time,” must firstly call for 
 examination in this series of articles. They are very 
 simple; indeed, so much so as almost to render it unne¬ 
 cessary to repeat them formally; yet they have been 
 violated so often of late, that it would almost seem as 
 though they had been forgotten in the modern programmes 
 of art education. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin, in one of his brilliant but paradoxical 
 descriptions of the scenery of the Rhine, went out of his 
 way to abuse modern engineers because they erected 
 bridges with arches of equal openings over torrential rivers, 
 that is to say, over rivers rolling down wide streams of 
 water in the wet seasons, and narrow deep streams flowing 
 only over a portion of their beds in the dry season. The 
 eminent, but erratic, critic avowed a decided preference 
 for the bridges which consisted of, e.g., a large arch over 
 the principal stream, and smaller ones in the occasionally 
 flooded portions of the banks; and no doubt, in some cases, 
 a bridge of this irregular character may be far more pic¬ 
 turesque than a more uniform or regular character may 
 be. But Mr. Ruskin was seeking to make a hit at the 
 expense of a class of men of whose works he was in fact 
 profoundly ignorant; for the reproach which may be most 
 frequently urged against modern bridge-building is that 
 the regularity of the openings is far too often neglected. 
 The viaduct leading into Preston, that of Nogent-sur- 
 
 Marne, the viaduct over the Mersey, and many others, 
 have combinations of arches of unequal spans, in order to 
 meet the varying requirements of the ground, and of the 
 rivers to be traversed, without much reference to the uni¬ 
 formity of the design. All these bridges, however, produce 
 a disagreeable effect on the educated eye, because in works 
 of art, order and proportion are required to produce har¬ 
 mony ; and order, in these particular cases, can only be 
 attained by the equality of the intervals respectively of 
 the supports and of the openings. When there is a mani¬ 
 fest reason for the introduction of arches of larger span 
 than usual in a viaduct, it is excused precisely on the 
 utilitarian principle; and the position those arches may 
 occupy in the composition may have no reference to the 
 ordinance of the whole without producing a repulsive 
 effect, for the same reason. In fact, bridges, viaducts, and 
 aqueducts are essentially works of utility rather than 
 objects of taste, and in designing them it should be the 
 principal object of the architect to express their purpose 
 and their relation to the surrounding scenery, leaving all 
 petty details entirely aside, and trusting for their effect to 
 their simple outline and to their mass. The affectation of 
 irregularity in the openings would be quite as objectionable 
 as a sacrifice of any description to secure their equality; 
 and the only rules to be observed in this matter are to 
 adopt the most common sense modes of construction con¬ 
 sistent with economy; but, at the same time, to recollect 
 that in objects of sight, as in sounds, a recurrence of im¬ 
 pressions repeated at regular intervals is an essential 
 element of harmony. It requires, however, a certain 
 cultivation of the intellect before this beauty of order and 
 of harmony is preferred to picturesqueness of effect; and 
 Mr. Ruskin’s attacks upon engineers for the uniformity of 
 their works is to be explained by his avowed predilection 
 for everything romantic. 
 
 Admitting, however, that the design of every work of 
 the kind under consideration should be made to vary in 
 spirit according to local circumstances ; and that, there¬ 
 fore, there is no reason why the arches of a long cause¬ 
 way, bridge, viaduct, or aqueduct should necessarily be of 
 equal openings, we may proceed to observe that whenever 
 a variation of the diameters of the arches is introduced, the 
 leading lines of the composition should be decidedly 
 broken, so as to show that the construction of the one por¬ 
 tion is essentially different from that of the other. Mr. 
 Locke, in the Mersey Viaduct, managed to divide his com¬ 
 position with remarkable skill, and even to bring the 
 springings of his arches and the spacing of his piers so as 
 to increase the apparent stability of his structure; again, 
 the width of the piers (on the face) is made to vary in 
 this bridge proportionally to the spans of the arches, and 
 different materials are used in what may be called the 
 causeway portion from those used in the portions over the 
 river and over the canal, so that every part of this design 
 tells its own tale consistently and distinctly. In the 
 Boyne Viaduct this is not the case, and there is nothing to 
 indicate the separation between the construction of the 
 piers of the land arches and of the river lattice girders; or, 
 in fact, there is nothing in the elevation to explain why the 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 173 
 
 arches cease at a certain point. Somewhat the same ob¬ 
 jection may be made to the elevation of the viaduct of 
 Nogent-sur-Marne, for there is not a sufficiently marked 
 distinction between the portions of the bridge in which the 
 small arches occur and that wherein the diameters are 
 increased ; and in the Elster and Goltzschetal viaducts the 
 lines of separation between the arches of different spans 
 are far from being as distinctly marked as would he re¬ 
 quired to secure the harmony of their effects. One of the 
 ugliest of these irregularly-arched viaducts is, without ex¬ 
 ception, the one over the Tyne, near Newcastle, and pre¬ 
 cisely on account of the absence of anything to explain 
 the reasons for the variations of the arches; whilst the 
 introduction of the springings of the smaller arches upon 
 the vertical sides of the spandrils of the larger ones gives 
 a very disagreeable, because unsound, appearance to the 
 whole structure. In the Preston Viaduct, the separa -1 
 tion between the composition in which the cast-iron 
 girders are introduced from that of the series of small 
 semicircular land arches across the alluvial plain of the 
 valley, is tolerably well arranged; but there are few, if 
 any instances in which varieties of arehes have been in- 
 troduced under one level line so well worth the study of 
 the architect as the viaduct over the Mersey and the canal 
 before mentioned. 
 
 Some years since, it was-the fashion to admire the effect 
 produced by the pei-fectly horizontal lines of the cornices . 
 and roadways of such bridges as the Neuilly, Waterloo, and 
 Jena; but although for the purposes of traffic it may be 
 desirable to keep a roadway as nearly as possible on a level, 
 yet it is a law of optics that every long, horizontal line 
 appears to deflect in its length, and this is particularly the 
 case when a series of flat, elliptical arches is introduced 
 under it. All the three bridges thus named seem, when 
 viewed from the river, to sink in the centre; and the effect 
 of the gentle curve of the London Bridge is far more agree¬ 
 able to the eye than that of the level line of Waterloo 
 Bridge. No doubt, in the former, the species of climax 
 produced by the curved line of the road is increased by the 
 greater span of the centre arch, whereas at Waterloo 
 Bridge all the arches are of equal spans; but this fact 
 simply proves that, when the number of arches of a bridge 
 is not very great, it is preferable to make their openings 
 increase towards the centre, and to make the centre arch 
 the most important part of the composition. These re¬ 
 marks must, however, by no means be considered to be of 
 universal application, because in the cases of such rivers 
 as the Loire, the Po, the Ganges, Godavery, Soane,&c., the 
 width to be spanned by the arches is so great that it would 
 be practically impossible to give the roadway the curvature 
 found to be so graceful in the bridges over the Thames; 
 but whenever, from the physical nature of the valleys to be 
 traversed, it is necessary to adopt a series of elliptical 
 arches of the same openings, and rise, from one abut¬ 
 ment to the other, aesthetically it is necessary to break the 
 line of the cornice corresponding with the roadway by some 
 lateral projections, or by some wider piers, dividing the 
 series of arches into bays, so as to prevent the eye, 
 when following the line of the cornice, from being directly 
 
 affected by the level line passing through the soffites of the 
 arches at the keys. 
 
 In our last article, attention was called to the construc¬ 
 tive advantages of occasional wider piers in a long range 
 of arches ; and the improvement they thus produce in the 
 artistic character of a building may be cited as an addi¬ 
 tional motive for their introduction. The height to be 
 given to any single range of arches must vary according to 
 local circumstances ; but experience seems to show that 
 the clear height from the ground line, or from any hori¬ 
 zontal strings or tie, should not exceed from two to two 
 and a half times the diameter ; beyond that height, the 
 Roman system of staged arches should he adopted, although 
 instances have been known in which the clear height has 
 exceeded the one thus named. In the Lockwood Viaduct, 
 fo> instance, the height from the surface of the river to the 
 underside of the arch is more than four times the diameter; 
 but the general effect of this viaduct is unsatisfactory, and 
 it may fairly be questioned whether it possesses the ele¬ 
 ments of stability required for the viaducts of valleys 
 exposed to violent hurricanes. In the Ouse Valley Viaduct, 
 the height of the principal arches is above three times the 
 span, without producing any disagreeable effect; but the 
 introduction of the horizontal tie in the Beitigheim Via¬ 
 duct, at the level of the springings of the arches, or at 
 the distance of twice the opening from the ground, cer¬ 
 tainly gives it a more solid and satisfactory appearance 
 when seen from below. In the viaducts with more than 
 one range of arches it is preferable to make the heights of 
 the various tiers diminish in the ratios of their heights 
 
 o 
 
 from the ground—that is to say, to make the higher tiers 
 less lofty than the lower ones ; and in confirmation of this 
 opinion we may cite the Pont du Gard, where it has been 
 acted upon, and which is far more graceful in its effect 
 than the Roquefavour Aqueduct, where there is no regular 
 gradation between the heights of the various ranges of 
 arches; or than the Caserta Aqueduct, where the grada¬ 
 tion of heights has-been reversed. The Chaumont Viaduct 
 has its various tiers of arches in good relative proportions, 
 and indeed it may be cited as one of the most satisfactory 
 works of its class. It must, however, be observed in this 
 matter, that there must always be a difference in the mode 
 of treating long and lofty aqueducts from the one adopted 
 for viaducts, because the difficulty of executing large arches 
 without flaws or cracks in the masonry, arising- either from 
 the settlements of the building or from the contraction 
 and expansion of the masonry under atmospheric influ¬ 
 ences, renders it undesirable to resort to arches of large 
 spans immediately under the channel or water-way. Thus, 
 in the Pont du Gard, the Roquefavour, the Spoleto, 
 Montpellier, and Biscari Aqueducts, the uppermost ranges 
 of arches are made much smaller than the lower ones; and 
 necessarily their heights are also less. In road viaducts 
 there is no special reason for this peculiar mode of arranging 
 the arches, and therefore it is preferable to avoid anything 
 which would produce the effect of increasing the apparent 
 weight of the higher part of the structure. 
 
 The treatment of the outline of the piers of a bridge, or 
 of a viaduct, is a matter of quite as great importance, 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF TIIE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 ITT 
 
 artistically, as the treatment of the arches and of the 
 leading horizontal lines. At the present day there is a 
 very marked tendency on the part of bridge-builders to 
 neglect the study of this detail; and, as may be seen in tbe 
 Saltash, the Bordeaux, Theiss, Chelsea, New Hungerford 
 Bridges, the recent practice has been to execute tbe piers 
 simply in the form of parallel vertical pillars. The optical 
 effect of these parallel vertical lines is, however, to cause 
 the piers to look larger at the top than at the bottom, and 
 thus to produce a “topheavy” effect, particularly when 
 the girders they support are of the very elementary 
 parallel horizontal form now usually adopted. But even 
 in arched viaducts or aqueducts, such as the Dee, the 
 Caserta, JYIaintenon, Roquefavour, &c., the straight ver¬ 
 tical piers look inelegant; nor can the introduction of 
 pilasters on the faces disguise the original defect of the 
 strictly perpendicular line. In many cases the piers are 
 made to diminish towards the top by means of a series of 
 sets-oft—a contrivancewhich may produce a small economy 
 in the labour of dressing off the face, but which is by no 
 means so satisfactory in its results as the introduction of 
 a regular batter in the piers. As a principle of construc¬ 
 tion, it may be observed, the superficial area of the piers 
 of a bridge ought to vary in the various points of its height 
 in proportion to the weight actually carried at the re¬ 
 spective levels, and to apply this principle rigorously it 
 would be necessary to give the piers a batter whose out¬ 
 line may roughly be described as forming a portion of a 
 flat ellipse. And it precisely happens that this strictly 
 logical outline is the one which is the most pleasing to the 
 eye, if frankly and fairly shown, as in the case of the 
 St. Germain’s Viaduct, and in some of the best bridges of 
 the Perronet school. Whatever mode of diminishing the 
 apparent width of the piers may be adopted, it is, how¬ 
 ever, of the greatest importance that a distinct line of 
 demarcation should be shown between the horizontal and 
 the arched parts of the masonry; and for this purpose a 
 bold impost should be introduced at the level of the 
 springing of the arches. There are not many instances in 
 which this precaution has been neglected (and the word 
 precaution is used advisedly, because a properly executed 
 impost performs the important function of distributing 
 the weight of the voussoirs over the whole bearing surface 
 of the piers, and it has thus a logical necessity as well as 
 an sesthetical one); but whenever, as in the instances 
 previously cited of the Lockwood and of the St. Germain’s 
 \ iaducts, the impost is omitted, the elevation presents a 
 very bald and unfinished appearance. In river bridges, 
 and in positions where the piers are of considerable thick¬ 
 ness, their picturesqueness is much increased by rusti¬ 
 cating the courses of masonry; but this observation ceases 
 to apply when the height of the piers is considerable, 
 because the effect of frequent aud strongly-marked hori¬ 
 zontal lines on a pier gives it an effect of weakness—or at 
 least it gives to the elevation a want of repose, one of the 
 most serious defects imaginable in bridge architecture. 
 It is indeed for this reason that the introduction of 
 columns upon the faces of piers, as at Waterloo, Black- 
 friars, or Kelso Bridges, is objectionable, and that the 
 
 panelling and other decorations of the piers, as at the Esk, 
 Glasgow, Ballochmyle, bridges are essentially misplaced; 
 in all the best examples these petty details are avoided, 
 and Bennie’s last and grandest work, London Bridge, may 
 be cited as one of the finest illustrations of the taste which 
 ought to prevail in such works. 
 
 In river bridges, it is almost always necessary to place 
 on the fronts of the piers cutwaters, the best outline of 
 which, in plan, is that of part of an equilateral spherical 
 triangle presenting to the stream an angle of sixty degrees, 
 the base being placed upon the line of the face of the 
 arch. These cutwaters were made by Perronet at Neuilly, 
 and by Nimmo at Limerick, rather ornamental; but the 
 taste of any ornamental details in such positions is rather 
 questionable, and the simple spherical tops used in London 
 Bridge, &c., are certainly more consistent. In any case 
 the caps of the cutwaters must be placed over the imposts 
 of the piers, not splayed off below them, as in the case of 
 the Godavery Aqueduct; and, indeed, in this instance the 
 cutwaters were made with rectilineal triangular extremi¬ 
 ties, the tops of which are splayed off in so singular a 
 manner as to give the arches somewhat the effect of 
 standing on points. Perronet’s celebrated bridges of St. 
 Maxence and Brunoi have their piers terminated by species 
 of columns, which enabled him to dispense with the ordi¬ 
 nary cutwaters. This system, however, would hardly be 
 applicable upon large rivers, or in cases where an active 
 navigation is carried on upon a stream running with con¬ 
 siderable velocity, on account of the eddies and counter- 
 currents it would give rise to. 
 
 In dealing with the abutments of a bridge, a greater 
 amount of ornamentation may be at times introduced than 
 would be consistent in the treatment of the piers, pro¬ 
 vided that the ornamental details do not interfere with the 
 solidity of effect of the portion of the abutment logically 
 required to resist the thrust of the arches. In the Stone- 
 leigh, Darleton, and the Chester Bridges, niches and en¬ 
 tablatures were introduced with great success; and, indeed, 
 in execution, those details are far more effective than they 
 are in the drawings. But, as a general rule, it is prefer¬ 
 able to preserve the mass of the abutment as intact as 
 may be, and, above all things, to avoid cutting up the 
 wing walls of the approaches by small arches, which do 
 not agree in any way with the principal composition, as 
 in the cases of the Victoria and Albert Bridges, near 
 Windsor. Perhaps the best, and most consistent, orna¬ 
 ment which can be introduced upon an abutment is a 
 flight of steps, when communication is required between 
 the higher and the lower levels; and the manner in which 
 Mr. Bennie arranged the stairs at the London and the 
 Southwark Bridges may be cited as models for this de¬ 
 scription of works. The abutments and the land arches 
 ol the Alma, the Dora Riparia, the Berne, Verona bridges, 
 or even those of the old Roman bridge of St. Angelo, 
 may likewise be cited as worthy of study; but very grave 
 doubts may be entertained as to the propriety or the cor¬ 
 rectness of taste of the abutments of such bridges as the 
 Cologne, Dirschau, or Britannia Bridge, in all of which 
 there is an affectation of architectural treatment incon- 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 175 
 
 sistent with the position and uses to which it is applied. A 
 bridge, we repeat, is essentially a utilitarian object; as such 
 it should be simple, even to severity, and whatever ornament 
 it may bear should seem to be inherent to the purposes of 
 the structure itself. This is the more true, be it observed, 
 from the fact that in the majority of cases the ornamen¬ 
 tation of the bridge is never seen by the bulk of the 
 people who use it as a means of passage, so that an outlay 
 for the decoration of the unseen parts is practically a 
 waste of money. These remarks must not be understood 
 to imply a censure of the careful study or the artistic 
 treatment of the various parts of buildings of this descrip¬ 
 tion; for all the observations hitherto made are based 
 upon the supposition that it is desirable that a bridge 
 should possess every attainable element of beauty; but 
 that beauty should be derived more from order, harmony, 
 and proportion than from elegant details—from the mass 
 rather than from parts skilfully combined. 
 
 The treatment of the voussoirs and of the spandrils 
 would, on the above principles, require to be simple, bold, 
 and free from any affectation of prettiness. The Outline 
 ol the extrados ought, we believe, to be distinctly defined; 
 and we do not even much object to the introduction of a 
 moulding on the face of the bridge to mark that line, 
 provided it serve at the same time to protect the extrados 
 from driving rains. Smeaton, for instance, was rather 
 fond of placing a moulding on the supposed line of the 
 extrados; but as his arches were usually of small spans, 
 he was able to make the mouldings concentric with the 
 intrados—a condition which would not hold in an ellip¬ 
 tical arch of large span. Mylne in Blackfriars, and Mr. 
 Rennie in London, Sir J. and Mr. G. Rennie in the Hyde 
 Park bridges, have treated the jointing of the voussoirs 
 and of the spandrils of their arches with remarkable skill; 
 and indeed in this respect the practice of the best English 
 engineers is superior to that of even such men as Perronet, 
 Cliezy, Hupeau, &c., for the French engineers of the 
 latter end of the eighteenth century habitually made the 
 depths of the voussoirs of their elliptical arches pro¬ 
 portionate to the radii of the various parts of the curve, 
 whereas Mr. Rennie and his followers decreased the depth 
 of the voussoirs, from the springing towards the crown, 
 in proportion to the tangential effort they had to resist. 
 This arrangement gives an appearance of increased strength 
 to the arch itself, and it certainly facilitates the combi¬ 
 nation of the horizontal lines of the jointing of the 
 spandrils with the radiating joints of the voussoir, in the 
 cases wherein the voussoirs are not circumscribed by a 
 moulding. From the experience of some of the large 
 bridges above mentioned, it would indeed seem to be pre¬ 
 ferable to adopt the former of these modes of treating 
 the faces of the structure ; because the introduction of the 
 mouldings appears to detach the voussoirs from the rest 
 of the work, whereas the combination of the horizontal 
 and of the radiating joints gives to the whole a more 
 homogeneous eftect. Under any circumstances, the system 
 adopted by Labeleye, in the old Westminster Bridge, of 
 executing the spandril, filling in courses radiating from the 
 same centres as the-voussoirs of the arches, is to be 
 
 avoided; it is objectionable economically, constructively, 
 and aesthetically, yet it has recently been followed in the 
 Vale Royal Viaduct. As to the introduction of sculp¬ 
 tural decorations upon the spandrils of the arches, local 
 considerations must regulate its adoption; the only con¬ 
 siderations of a general nature connected with it being, 
 that it is essential that the sculpture should not appear to 
 interfere in any way with the construction of the bridge, 
 and that the subjects treated should be consistent with 
 the positions in which they are placed. Thus, the trophies 
 carved upon the spandrils of the Pont d’Alma, at Paris, 
 really constitute ornaments to that bridge; but the 
 gigantic statues of the representatives of the different 
 services of the French army introduced upon the piers of 
 the Pont de Solferino, notwithstanding the beauty of their 
 mechanical execution, look sadly out of place; they are 
 too real, too lifelike in their eternal fixedness to inspire 
 other than discordant ideas. Again, the fluttering garlands, 
 or WTeaths, around the panels of the Navilly and Toulouse 
 Bridges are decidedly inconsistent with a class of struc¬ 
 tures which above all things should present the appearance 
 of solidity and mass; but the wreaths introduced upon 
 the bridges of Namur, or of St. Michel at Paris, as cer¬ 
 tainly improve their effect, by giving, as it were, move¬ 
 ment to the portions which otherwise might look bald. 
 
 Designedly the observations upon the form of the 
 arches have been reserved for this part of the notice, 
 because in the case of cast and of wrought iron bridges, 
 the treatment of the arches and of the spandrils must 
 have even a more marked relationship than is the case in 
 stone or brick bridges. Now, the various local conside¬ 
 rations of water-way, head-way, approaches, materials to 
 be employed, so strangely modify the abstract laws of taste 
 as applicable to the precise description of curvature to be 
 given to the arch, that it would almost be impossible to 
 discover reasons /or the preference to be accorded to any 
 one of them. Yet there are some optical laws connected 
 with the combinations of lines which cannot be violated 
 with impunity ; such, for instance, as the objection to the 
 introduction of an elliptical arch with a very flat radius 
 of curvature at he crown under a practically horizontal 
 line of cornice; or the introduction of a pointed arch of 
 the later mediaeval character—that is to say, struck from 
 four centres—in similar positions, because in both cases 
 the effect produced on the eye is that of a deflection over 
 the crown. New Westminster Bridge furnishes marked 
 illustrations of the former defect; the Victoria and 
 Albert Bridges, near Windsor, of the latter; and the 
 bridges of the Great Western Railway at Bristol may also 
 be referred to as illustrations of the disagreeable eftect 
 resulting from the use of the pointed arch in bridges with 
 horizontal roadways. Even in the viaduct at Coccaglio, 
 near Verona, where the pointed arches are struck only 
 from two centres, the effect is far from pleasant; and this 
 form of arch only seems appropriate when the roadway is 
 made to rise in the somewhat exaggerated way it does in 
 the mediaeval bridges of Martorel, or of Orense in Spain. 
 With respect to the use of the segmental arch, it may 
 be observed that when the segment nearly approaches the 
 
176 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 semicircle, the effect is by no means pleasant; and in the 
 cases of Smeaton’s bridges of Coldstream, Hexham, 
 Perth, &c., the appearance of the arches would have been 
 greatly improved if they had been made semi-ellipses. 
 Tredgold’s Bewdley and Tongueland Bridges are liable to 
 the same objection, and they also would have been much 
 improved, without any material increase in their cost, if 
 the arches had been semi-ellipses; but Telford was essen¬ 
 tially a man devoid of taste, as appears, we may add, by 
 the manner in which he spoilt Perronet’s idea of the come 
 de vaclie arch in the bridge at Gloucester. This come de 
 vache arch, however, has been successfully treated in the 
 bridge over the Dora Riparia, and in Nimmo’s beautiful 
 work at Limerick, which may almost bear comparison 
 with the Pont de Neuilly itself: the new Pont d’Alma at 
 Paris is another good example of this peculiar form of 
 arch. As to the elliptical arch, the most important re¬ 
 mark to be made is that when, from the necessity for 
 securing headway under the haunches, it is desirable to 
 make the first portions of the ellipse of large radius, the 
 curve becomes ungraceful, and it is better to resort at 
 once to the flat segmental arch. The bridges of Saumur, 
 of the Bordeaux and Tours Railway, and Rennie’s bridge 
 over the Earn would, we believe, have been more agreeable 
 if they had been segmental, than they are in their present 
 form of flat semi-ellipses; but all arches whose upper 
 portions are of large radii require to be skilfully treated, 
 for the reasons before mentioned. In lofty viaducts, or 
 aqueducts, the universal practice, since the days of the 
 Romans, has been to use exclusively the simi-circular 
 arch, except in the very remarkable case of the Spoleto 
 Aqueduct, or in the Coccaglio Viaduct, no doubt on 
 account of the smaller effort of the semi-circular arches 
 to overthrow the piers. 
 
 Cast-iron and wrought-iron bridges, when the last- 
 named material is used in compression, are generally made 
 with segmental arcs, and the few instances in which this 
 rule has been departed from by no means induce regret 
 that it should be the rule. The section of the girders, or 
 rather of the arched ribs, used in the earlier cast-iron 
 bridges would seem, from Mr. Hodgkinson’s investigations 
 upon the strength of cast-iron, not to be very logical; 
 and in some of the modern bridges—as for instance, in that 
 of Tarrascon—an attempt has been made to arrange the 
 transverse section in such wise as to obtain the greatest 
 resistance with the least weight of metal. But this Tar¬ 
 rascon Bridge is by no means elegant; and as a matter of 
 taste, the artist will always prefer the outlines of the 
 Southwark, Laira, St. Petersburg, or Nevers Bridges to 
 it. The Barnes and Windsor Bridges on the South- 
 Western Railway, and the Trent Bridge, may again be 
 cited as elegant specimens of cast-iron work, superior in 
 this respect to the very useful and imposing structure of 
 the High Level Bridge at Newcastle; but however these 
 cast-iron bridges may differ amongst themselves in the 
 order of their beauty, they all look more satisfactory to 
 the eye than such structures as the Victoria Bridge of the 
 Crystal Palace Railway, or than the still bolder Pont 
 d’Arcole at Paris. It would require a long treatise to 
 
 discuss the constructive advantages and disadvantages of 
 bridges in which wrought-iron has been, as in the two 
 last-named instances, used in compression; but it may 
 here be at once observed that the phenomena observable 
 in both of them seem to indicate that their durability 
 will not be very great. To the educated eye, therefore, 
 this description of bridge must always be objectionable, 
 for it never can convey the notion of sufficient stability; 
 and to the architect, the attempt to carry out, in any 
 description of metal girder, the picturesque style of the 
 Middle Ages, must likewise appear a mistake, for the essence 
 of the effect of mediaeval arching consists in the depth of 
 the splays, a condition which can never be truly attained 
 when thin girders are used. 
 
 There is room for the display -of much taste in the 
 treatment of the cornice and of the parapets of a bridge, 
 whether executed in stone or in metal. Good examples of 
 bold, massive, dentil cornices, with solid parapets over 
 them, are to be seen in such bridges as the London, or the 
 Grenoble bridges ; plainer cornices, without dentils, are to 
 be seen in the Neuilly and the Limerick bridges, with 
 block parapets in a continued unbroken line in the former, 
 and with occasional breaks in the latter instance. In many 
 of the modern English viaducts, and even in the elegant 
 bridge of Namur, the profile of the cornices is by no means 
 logical, for their designers have forgotten that the principal 
 meaning of a cornice is to provide a protection for the wall 
 beneath from rain, and they have positively made the pro¬ 
 files of the mouldings such as to lead the water down the 
 face, instead of throwing it off. Under all circumstances, 
 however, the cornice must be devoid of small details, which 
 can neither be seen from above or from below; and on this 
 score the shields in the cove of the cornice of New West¬ 
 minster Bridge are objectionable. The parapets may either 
 be formed with open balustrades, as at Westminster, 
 Waterloo, Glasgow (Telford’s), Old Blackfriars, Alma, 
 &c., bridges; or with solid stone work, as (in addition to 
 the instances already quoted) at the Hexham, Montfort, 
 Newton Stewart, Toulouse, Tours, Verona, Dresden, &c., 
 bridges. When the length of the parapet is great, there 
 is an advantage gained, so far as the artistical effect is con¬ 
 cerned, by breaking its uniformity by the introduction of 
 projecting bays, carried upon corbels below.the line of the 
 cornice, which breaks round the projections in its turn. 
 This manner of treating the parapets is well represented 
 in the Ouse and the Brighton viaducts, in the Goeltzsche, 
 Elster, Schildesche viaducts; in the Solani, Lune, and 
 Orbe aqueducts; in the London, Dresden, and many other 
 river bridges; but all these projections must be confined 
 to the portions of the parapets over the piers, and they 
 must be carefully avoided upon the centres of the openings. 
 In some cases, unfortunately, the heaviest portion of the 
 parapets has been placed over the very centre lines of the 
 arches (as, for instance, in the often quoted Victoria and 
 Albert bridges), and thus the effect of loading the weakest 
 part of the arch has beep produced; this is very objection¬ 
 able, because all ornaments introduced in bridge building, 
 in fact, ought to appear in strict accordance with construc¬ 
 tive truth, and surely no reason can be assigned for an 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 177 
 
 unnecessary weight over the crown of an arch. The 
 parapets of iron bridges, it may be added, are usually made 
 of open panelling, and it would seem to be more con¬ 
 sistent to adopt this course than to employ a solid parapet, 
 because the latter would hardly appear to be consistent 
 with the open work usually employed in the spandril filling 
 of these bridges. On some of the large canal aqueducts 
 light iron panelling has also been introduced, but it is there 
 out of place, and totally inconsistent with the solidity and 
 heaviness of effect produced, by reason of the depth of the 
 watercourse. The Guetin and the Godavery aqueducts 
 furnish striking illustrations of this defective treatment of 
 the parapets; the Orbe Aqueduct, on the contrary, may 
 he cited as an illustration of the manner in which they 
 may be made to contribute to the beauty of such works. 
 Indeed, the Orbe and the Lune Aqueducts may be cited as 
 masterpieces of decorative, and at the same time useful, 
 bridge building. 
 
 The architecture of suspension and of tubular and lat¬ 
 tice bridges of large spans requires to be treated on very 
 different principles from those adapted to stone or brick 
 bridges. Of the former, the Kieff and the Pesth Bridges 
 are certainly the most worthy of study, on account of the 
 skilful combination of the ornamental details with the 
 masses indicative of strength and adaptation of purpose. 
 The Hammersmith Bridge, also, is an elegant specimen of 
 its kind, and its simple elegance contrasts strangely with 
 the frittered affectation of the Chelsea Bridge. The 
 bridge at Friburg, that of La Roclie Bernard, and even 
 the Niagara Bridge, are picturesque structures, deficient 
 perhaps in some of their details, and unsatisfactory to the 
 eye on account of the lightness of their suspension chains; 
 whilst the Menai, Ilungerford, Union, &c., bridges have 
 only the merit of having stood the test of time. In the 
 tubular and lattice bridges, the most successful instances 
 of artistic treatment are, on the whole, those of the Ger¬ 
 man lattice bridges over the Rhine at Cologne, the one 
 at Durschan, &c., in which the piers and abutments have 
 been treated as medheval towers, rising above the lines 
 of the horizontal framing in sufficient mass to form har¬ 
 monious combinations with it, and yet to break the uni¬ 
 formity of the outline. The bridge at Kehl is a frightfully 
 ugly attempt at the introduction of Gothic details of a 
 light and airy character in such works. The Victoria 
 Bridge at Montreal is utterly devoid of any attempt at 
 the display of taste; and even in the Britannia Bridge 
 itself, the effect of the mass has been relied upon more 
 than the effect of the details. Perhaps this is the true 
 principle of dealing with this class of bridges, because 
 the elementary lines which enter into its composition are 
 so simple that they do not admit of the introduction of 
 ornament; and the only rules to be observed in designing 
 such works are, that the outlines of the various parts 
 should be such as not to give rise to unpleasant optical 
 effects, and then that they should be as simple as possible. 
 The Kehl Bridge is objectionable precisely on account of 
 its attempts at decoration in positions where decoration is 
 misplaced. Bridges are, in fact, essentially works in 
 which the useful should be studied more than the orna- 
 6 
 
 mental; and in them details should never be allowed to 
 obtrude themselves upon the attention of the general 
 observer. It cannot too often be repeated, that the real 
 characteristics of good bridge architecture are simplicity 
 and repose. In small works they indicate that the end has 
 not been made a vehicle for the means; in large works 
 they are the only qualities able to produce the effect of 
 sublimity. The tendency of modern practice in this 
 branch of art is twofold—viz., either towards an entire 
 neglect of all aesthetical laws, as in the case of the Vic¬ 
 toria Bridge at Montreal and in the new Hungerford 
 Bridge; or towards an affectation of prettiness, as in the 
 Chelsea and the new Westminster Bridges. Both systems 
 are wrong; and we may conclude these remarks by urging 
 engineers—to whom the construction of bridges seems 
 now to be exclusively confined—to return to the study of 
 the works of Perronet, Rennie, Mylne, Hupeau, and of 
 the giants of former days, who were wise enough to feel 
 that architectural studies were essential to the successful 
 cultivation of their particular branch of the arts of con¬ 
 struction. No man who possessed even the rudiments of 
 a cultivated taste could have erected such abominations 
 as some of the more renowned modern bridges; and 
 society has lost much by the strange divorce lately esta¬ 
 blished between engineering and architecture. 
 
 THE DESTRUCTION OF CITY CHURCHES. 
 
 Several journals have lately called attention to the sub¬ 
 ject of our City churches. The Buildim News has an im¬ 
 portant article, from which we select the following judi¬ 
 cious remarks:— 
 
 “Amid the bloodiest and darkest days of the first 
 French Revolution there was formed a band —la hande noire 
 —.of speculative individuals, who assumed the utilitarian 
 mission of converting into money, or to some purpose of 
 practical utility, the architectural monuments which the 
 piety or refined taste of their ancestors had raised, to tlxe 
 great embellishment of France. The Convention wanted 
 money to equip armies as apostles to the rest of Europe 
 of the Religion of Reason and as pioneers of French 
 civilization; and the black band, in their patriotic anxiety 
 to further these ends, offered their money in exchange for 
 structures raised by a haughty aristocracy and fanatical 
 priesthood—structures which could be nothing more than 
 obstructions to the new light which the litre Supreme shed 
 over France. So, under their black flag, inscribed guerre 
 aux chateaux , paix aux hameaux, they went forth in bands, 
 armed with sledge-hammers, crowbars, and pickaxes, and 
 levelled to the ground cathedrals, churches, monastic 
 structures, palaces, and mansions, where there wei’e no 
 other means of making money than from the sale of old 
 building materials. In districts where individuals offered 
 to purchase from la hancle noire confiscated edifices for 
 conversion to useful purposes, care was taken to destroy 
 statues, carved armorial bearings, and artistic ornaments, 
 in order to efface traces of the inequality and superstition 
 which previously existed. From the northern provinces, 
 
 A A 
 
178 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 dotted with Flemish and the best French interpretations 
 of Gothic art; through Normandy, with its stately feudal 
 castles and masculine styles, uniting force and grace into 
 forms of beauty; through the Valley of the Loire, where 
 the pleasing works of the Renaissance stand on noble 
 terraces sweeping down to the river; on to Limoges, 
 where two styles of art may be said to have met on their 
 way northward from the Lombard and Venetian cities of 
 Italy and from the Moorish towns of Spain, the destroyers 
 passed, leaving a broad tract of senseless, purposeless, and 
 irreparable desolation behind them. 
 
 “ The Convention—ignorantly indifferent as the mem¬ 
 bers were to the opinions of posterity, and careless of 
 everything that did not gratify their political passions— 
 did not venture directly on works of destruction, although 
 clearly responsible for the vandalism of la bande noire. In 
 justice we should perhaps make a distinction between the 
 Convention and the government of the Convention. If 
 the Executive sold architectural works to ruthless de¬ 
 struction, the Convention, or some of its members, strove 
 to preserve the artistic inheritance bequeathed by the past. 
 An ex-bishop of Blois, a Conventionist, indignant at the 
 degradations and destructions—for which he invented the 
 term vandalism—perpetrated in the provinces, made 
 several reports, and at last obtained decrees rendering the 
 constituted authorities responsible for the preservation of 
 national monuments and libraries. Of the buildings the 
 Convention decreed national property and took possession 
 of in the name of the nation, it did not openly proceed to 
 destroy any, but converted them to some quasi useful 
 purpose. In Paris, the Archiepiscopal Palace was united 
 to the well-known hospital, Hotel Dieu, and the conventual 
 structures were most of them transformed into hospitals. 
 Such was the destination of the Abbey St. Antoine, of 
 the Benedictine Convent Rue de Sevres, of the Monastery 
 Faubourg St. Jacques, of the Convent at Chaillot, the 
 College Montaigne, the Convent of Val de Grace, and 
 others. A Jacobin convent was transformed into an 
 artillery museum. The Abbey of St. Martin was made 
 the Conservatory of Arts and Trades, and the church is 
 now a library. We scarcely remember an instance of the 
 Convention pulling down a church, though it may have 
 desecrated many. And it is, therefore, all the more sur¬ 
 prising that what the Convention dared not do when its 
 political and irreligious madness was at its height, should 
 be proposed to be done in London, under the patronage 
 of the Bishop, and when we are at the full flood of a 
 religious revival. 
 
 “ A statement has been going the round of the press, 
 that the Post-office authorities have offered a sum, varying 
 from 40,000^. to 80,000^., for the site of the church of 
 St. Mary Woolnoth, to construct the Lombard-street 
 branch thereon. This structure will, therefore, if the 
 parishioners consent thereto, be forthwith demolished, and 
 will be the first church taken down under the Bishop of 
 London’s new Act, the twenty-second article of which 
 provides that the proceeds of the “ first sale of property 
 or materials” shall be appx’opriated for the payment of ex¬ 
 penses incurred, retrospectively or prospectively, in carrying 
 
 out the provisions of the Act; ‘ And the same fund shall 
 from time to time be augmented by the Ecclesiastical Com¬ 
 missioners from the produce of similar sales of property as 
 there may be occasion.’ The written consent oft he Vestry 
 is necessary before the scheme can be carried into effect. 
 
 “ Sentiment is, doubtless, excessively foolish; but there 
 are few Englishmen—excepting, of course. Bishops and 
 Ecclesiastical Commissioners—who can contemplate with 
 indifference the destruction of an edifice consecrated to 
 the worship of God, and wherein our fathers were bap¬ 
 tised, married, and solemnly dismissed to the grave 
 through generations of men. The desecration of the 
 graveyard—God’s Acre, as our fathers simply and reve¬ 
 rently called it—is still more revolting to the laity. No 
 consideration should be allowed to disturb the ashes of the 
 dead. 
 
 “ Although this may be a matter of sentiment with 
 Englishmen, and they may feel that they woidd suffer 
 almost any personal inconvenience rather than pull down 
 a church or disturb graves, it may be admitted that there 
 are cases in which such proceedings may be tolerated—we 
 cannot say justified. But every case must be judged by 
 itself, and not en bloc. Is there an excuse or necessity for 
 the destruction of St. Mary Woolnoth? The excuse for 
 the Bishop of London’s Bill is, that in the City there are 
 many churches without congregations; while, without the 
 City, there are many congregations without churches. 
 The City churches have rich endowments, and their sites 
 are valuable; appropriate the endowments and prices of 
 the sites of such churches as are unattended to the erection 
 and endowment of new churches in the suburbs, says Dr. 
 Tait. Certainly, the scheme looks very utilitarian—quite 
 philosophical at first glance—but subsequent examination 
 will show it to be the reverse. The first proposition of the 
 advocates of the measure is that London contains nearly 
 three million inhabitants and less than 500 churches, so 
 100 churches should be built. In this we may concur; 
 by all means let us have the additional century of churches; 
 but not old churches pulled down to buikl up new ones, 
 for that would not alter the relative propoi’tions of popu¬ 
 lation and churches. Then, we are not sure that the 
 figures represent the actual accommodation for religious 
 worship. Turning to the last edition of the ( Post Office 
 Directory,’ we find there enumerated 384 Established 
 churches and 77 chapels of ease, 104 Wesleyan chapels, 
 100 Independent chapels, 89 Baptist chapels, 84 chapels 
 of other Protestant Dissenters, making the total of Pro¬ 
 testant places of worship 782. To these must be added 
 31 Catholic chapels, 10 synagogues, 8 Quaker meeting¬ 
 houses, 7 Unitarian chapels, and 2 Greek chapels, giving 
 the grand total of places of worship at 840 for a popu¬ 
 lation of 2,803,534, as ascertained by the last Census, 
 instead of the figures stated by the advocates of church 
 destruction and extension. The figures as given corrected 
 may not show that ample accommodation for public wor¬ 
 ship is provided in the metropolis, but they do prove that 
 it is not so deficient as has been represented, for they show 
 one place of worship for every group of population equal 
 to 3300 souls, instead of one for 6000. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 179 
 
 “ The history of church extension in the metropolis is 
 well worth glancing at on the present occasion. When 
 FitzStephen wrote, there were in London and the suburbs 
 13 conventual churches, and 126 lesser parish churches. 
 Centuries later, when Stow compiled his f Survaie/ the 
 number he gave for total was the same, 139; of these 89 
 were destroyed by the Fire, and of them 35 were not re¬ 
 built. This would leave 104, independently of the two 
 cathedrals, at the close of Wren’s labours. From 1680 to 
 1850 there were built, independently of those erected by 
 the present Commissioners, 56 churches for new parishes 
 and districts; and the present Commissioners erected, 
 wholly or partially, 90 new churches up to 1850. Since 
 then greater progress has been made, so that there is no 
 room for charging the present generation with having 
 neglected its duty in this matter. 
 
 “ Granted that the population has departed from the 
 City churches, and that new churches are required in re¬ 
 cently formed districts, it does not follow that we should 
 destroy what may now be unused. Before doing so— 
 before resorting to so extreme a measure, we are bound to 
 exhaust every other resource. The fabric of a church is 
 not the property of a generation. We have only a life 
 interest in it, and hold it in trust for those who may come 
 after us. In common justice we cannot alienate it, unless 
 it be in the interest of our successors. Wbre the number 
 of churches within the City to be reduced to suffice 
 the present resident population, there is no certainty the 
 diminished amount of church accommodation will be ade¬ 
 quate to supply the wants of the future resident popula¬ 
 tion. There is just now a tendency to live out of the City; 
 but, so far as the poor are concerned, that is because they 
 are expelled. It is quite possible that a change may take 
 place in the style of building, and that, as London grows 
 larger, architects will give a vertical direction to the 
 growth of London; that is to say, erect lofty houses of 
 six or more stories. Should this occur—and there are not 
 wanting premonitory symptoms of this change—nothing 
 is more likely than that the resident population will aug¬ 
 ment. There will then be no church accommodation for 
 them, and it will be impossible to provide it, except at 
 very disproportionate cost. Under these circumstances, 
 the destruction of City churches now will be an act of 
 cruel injustice, of culpable indifference, having regard to 
 the contingent requirements of the future. It is the duty 
 of centres of population, where church accommodation is 
 required, to provide it out of their own resources. Dis¬ 
 senters do so, and maintain their pastors without State 
 assistance or legacies from the past. Classing them all as 
 Protestant Dissenters, the figures quoted above show that 
 they have built and kept up 377 places of worship, while 
 the Establishment possesses no more than 405. Yet 
 Churchmen, as a body, are wealthier than Dissenters. 
 Are we, then, to suppose that their faith is cooler, and 
 that among them the lamp of sacrifice burns feebler or is 
 extinguished ? We are fully prepared to admit the weight 
 of the rejoinder about the difference in cost of constructing 
 a chapel and a church; but when we have done so, that 
 does not disprove the existence of energy and devotion 
 
 among Dissenters, and of lukewarmness among Church¬ 
 men. If the learning and eloquence of a brilliant epis¬ 
 copacy and priesthood cannot quicken the zeal of Church¬ 
 men for their faith to the length of making their sacri¬ 
 fices for church extension keep pace with the increase of 
 their wealth, still we contend that church extension is not 
 to be obtained by church destruction. With the recent 
 examples of the munificent exertions of laymen in this 
 direction—of Miss Burdett Coutts, the Misses Monk, Mr. 
 Hubbard, and Mr. Beresford-Hope—the laity cannot be 
 so torpid as it is made to appear. Its zeal would be 
 quickened if the Church herself set the example. A belief 
 is current that the revenues of the Church are ample to 
 satisfy all existing wants, if properly administered. Lay¬ 
 men read of sees the holders of which receive princely 
 incomes, and apply them to the enrichment of their 
 families; of Church lands leased for inadequate rentals, 
 that present incumbents may pocket large fines; and of 
 other sources of revenue which are diverted from the 
 service of the Church. A case in point has been just 
 published, which, without assuming a personal character, 
 will admirably illustrate our proposition with respect to 
 the perversion or diversion of Church income. Finsbury 
 prebendary is in the hands of the Ecclesiastical Com¬ 
 missioners, and yields an income of 7000 1. a year. In 
 seven years the income will rise to 66,000/. annually. 
 The greatest exertions are now made to prevent this sum 
 being applied to the erection of episcopal palaces, and to 
 enhancing the rank and dignity of deans, while Lon¬ 
 doners are without sufficient church accommodation, and 
 are asked to demolish the monumental works of their 
 fathers to supply the wants of new localities. The in¬ 
 come of the prebendary it is sought from the Eccle¬ 
 siastical Commissioners to have applied to provide en¬ 
 dowments for fifty existing churches now without them, 
 and for one hundred new churches to be built. This 
 would leave a balance of 26,000/.—or interest, at 3 per 
 cent, on a capital of upwards of 860,000/.—for the erec¬ 
 tion of the fabrics. Surely here are means to provide the 
 requisite church extension, without imitating the Vandals 
 of the French Revolution. Let the Commissioners an¬ 
 nounce such an appropriation, and the laity will not be 
 backward in aiding the good work to the utmost of their 
 ability. 
 
 “We have hitherto treated the question on general 
 grounds, but if we narrow it to the case of St. Mary 
 Woolnoth—and every case should be treated on its own 
 grounds—the contemplated act of vandalism will appear 
 particularly odious in an architectural point of view. St. 
 Mary Woolnoth happens to be the chef-d’oeuvre of 
 Nicholas Hawksmoor, the favourite pupil of Wren; it 
 was built in 1719. The exterior is original and bold, re¬ 
 markable for the solidity of its appearance, heightened 
 by deep rusticated work. If it does exhibit some trace 
 of heaviness, it also shows an air of magnificence, com¬ 
 bined with harmonious simplicity of decoration. The in¬ 
 terior is effective and well proportioned, ‘ sumptuously 
 beautiful/ aud ornamented with bold and rich decoration, 
 and the plan remarkable, withal, for classical simplicity 
 
 a a 2 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 180 
 
 and harmony. And this is the structure which all critics 
 agree in praising, and is one of the few architectural 
 monuments in the City that is to be destroyed, under the 
 sanction of the highest dignitaries of the Church.” 
 
 The Clerical Journal of September 12th says:—“The 
 opposition to the scheme for the destroying the City 
 churches, presumed to be useless, is, in our opinion, a 
 good sign of the times. We have from the first expressed 
 our dislike of the Act, both in its conception and its 
 details, and we sincerely hope it will ever remain a dead 
 letter. Removing a church because hut few people attend 
 it is a nineteenth century idea, only capable of being 
 born in a mercantile and mercenary age. The church 
 which the Bishop of London wishes to remove is- that of 
 St. Nicolas Aeons and St. Edmund the King, of which the 
 late Rev. H. Hartwell Horne was rector, and the living 
 has not been filled since his death. It has been well said 
 by a contemporary that ‘ it is, indeed, a matter of as¬ 
 tonishment that the Bishop of London should propose to 
 pull down a church where there is a steadily increasing 
 congregation, whilst other and neighbouring churches, 
 being literally deserted, are allowed to continue.’ It was 
 stated at the meeting held to oppose the measure that the 
 site of a church in Lombard-street would fetch a fabulous 
 sum of money (80,000£.) ; and as the Act provides that 
 the proceeds of the first sale are to be devoted by the 
 Commissioners, whose coffers are absolutely empty, to 
 the defrayment of past expenses, it is easily intelligible 
 why the removal of St. Edmund the King should be con¬ 
 sidered so desirable and necessary. The dislike of the 
 movements of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners is intense 
 on the part of the clergy ; and the complaints made against 
 the management of Church funds are both loud and deep, 
 and we cannot but hope that their power will speedily 
 come to an end.” 
 
 ON MOVEABLE BRIDGES* 
 
 The subject of moveable bridges is brought before this 
 Institution, not because anything very new or original is 
 to be introduced or explained, but it is presumed that it 
 will not be uninteresting to glance at some of the promi¬ 
 nent features of such bridges, at some of the improvements 
 which have lately been made upon their construction, and 
 at the merits of each kind of moveable bridge in certain 
 situations. 
 
 Under moveable bridges may be classed draw or lift 
 bridges, swing bridges, floating or pontoon bridges, and 
 telescope bridges; but at present the subject shall be con¬ 
 fined to draw and swing bridges, which are the only 
 moveable bridges adopted to any great extent in this 
 country for permanent use. 
 
 At first, in crossing the ditches round fortresses, draw¬ 
 bridges consisted of a simple wooden platform, which was 
 fastened at one end to a beam laid horizontally, and paral¬ 
 lel to the sides of the opening to be crossed, or to the top 
 
 * Bead before the Institution of Engineers in Scotland, by Mr. D. M'Call, 
 
 of a stone wall or abutment, by means of strong hinges. 
 The platform was acted upon at its other extremity by 
 levers, or by chains, worked either by wheels or by hand, 
 and thus raised to the vertical position when necessary. 
 
 When ship canals were introduced into this country, 
 about a century ago, it was requisite to have moveable 
 bridges for all roads which crossed over the navigations. 
 Drawbridges of a simple construction were often used for 
 this purpose. The platform was generally divided into 
 two equal parts, each revolving on a horizontal axis, and 
 raised by means of chains passing over pulleys, which 
 were wound up by wdieel gearing. Afterwards, the back- 
 balance was added, and which is now one of the principal 
 features of a drawbridge. The equilibrium being per¬ 
 fect, friction is the only thing to be overcome in raising 
 or lowering the platforms, and this is generally effected by 
 means of a pinion working into a circular rack, which is 
 fixed to the sides of the bridge. 
 
 Drawbridges are also used for crossing locks and dock 
 entrances at many of our harbours, and some of them are 
 of considerable dimensions. 
 
 The abutments of these bridges are generally of ma¬ 
 sonry. The chambers or wells for the counter-balances are 
 sometimes formed by inserting into the stonework of the 
 abutments cast-iron boxes; but these wells can be made 
 perfectly water-tight by ashlar masonry set in hydraulic 
 mortar. The platforms were at first nearly always con¬ 
 structed of wood, and afterwards many were made of cast- 
 iron ; but during the last ten or twelve years several 
 large lift bridges have been constructed with wrought-iron 
 girders and cross braces. 
 
 The drawbridges over the Forth and Clyde Canal, in 
 number about forty, are from 20 to 22 feet in span be¬ 
 tween the faces of the abutments, and from 10 to 14 feet 
 wide, the platform of each being in two leaves. The axles 
 are of cast-iron, with sockets in front, into which the 
 timber joists are fitted, and with arms behind, to which 
 the back-balance is fixed. The axles revolve on cast-iron 
 bearings, and each half of the bridge is raised by means 
 of the gearing shown in the drawing. The timber joists 
 are covered by two layers of planking, and the sides are 
 protected by wooden fences. These bridges are very easily 
 worked by two men, one on each side of the canal. 
 
 The drawbridge at the London Commercial Docks is 
 48 feet span in the clear, and was erected from a design 
 by Messrs. Walker and Burgess, in 1853. The platform 
 is also in two parts, each having four wrought-iron gir¬ 
 ders 48 J; feet long, firmly bound together by cross wrought- 
 iron braces and ties. A cast-iron axle 12 inches square is 
 firmly fixed to them, and revolves in plummer blocks pro¬ 
 vided with brass bushes. Kentledge boxes are fixed to 
 the landward ends of the girders, and between them, for 
 the counter-balance, which is 10 tons in weight for each 
 half of the bridge. The girders are covered with two 
 layers of planking in the usual way, and the bridge is 
 raised by the gearing at each side of each leaf, four men 
 being required for opening the bridge. 
 
 Swing bridges are now extensively used at harbours, 
 and for crossing inland navigations, both for roads and 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 181 
 
 railways. The abutments are generally of masonry, but 
 in many cases they are constructed of timber. The plat¬ 
 forms of swing bridges, until lately, were usually of timber 
 framing or of cast-iron girders, tied together and covered 
 with planking. To the under side of the platform was 
 fixed a cast-iron ring or roller path, and a similar ring was 
 fixed to the abutment, the surfaces being inclined for the 
 rollers. Between these rings were placed from .ten to 
 twenty conical rollers set in a cast-iron frame, or live ring, 
 at equal distances’. These rollers were generally from G to 
 18 inches diameter, and from 6 to 12 inches broad. The 
 concentricity of all the rings was preserved by means of a 
 centre pin. The rollers were usually of chilled iron, hut 
 sometimes of brass, and on them the whole-weight of the 
 bridge was placed. The friction was thus considerable, 
 and - powerful gearing, worked by at least two mem to 
 each leaf, was required to open and shut all bridges but 
 those of the smallest and lightest description. 
 
 There are many fine examples of these bridges at our 
 principal harbours, of large dimensions, and which reflect 
 credit on their designei’s and constructors. 
 
 Swing bridges for roads were nearly always formed in 
 two moveable leaves; but when railways began to inter¬ 
 sect the country, it was necessary to modify or improve 
 such bridges, so that.a rigid platform for the passing train 
 could be obtained in crossing the numerous navigations, 
 for which it was essential to have head-room for masted 
 vessels. To get this rigidity, swing bridges of one leaf 
 have been generally adopted, and these have been made 
 either of cast or wrought iron. The bridge over the river 
 Rothcr, on a branch of the South Eastern Railway, is a 
 good example of a cast-iron swing bridge, the girders of 
 which are 112 feet long, each weighing 21 tons, and made 
 up in four lengths. 
 
 The bridge near Falkirk, designed by Mr. A. J. Adie, 
 for carrying the Stirlingshire Midland Junction Railway 
 over the Forth and Clyde Canal, is an admirable example 
 of a malleable iron swing bridge. In the former, the 
 whole weight of the bridge is on sixteen conical rollers; 
 in the latter, the greater part of the weight is on a steel 
 ball, supported by a centre pivot; and the remainder of 
 the weight is on conical rollers, with upper and under 
 rings or roller paths. This bridge is .easily worked by two 
 men, and the platform is made rigid by means of four 
 strong screws, which are turned by geared shafting. There 
 is also a centre screw, by which the whole weight can be 
 placed on the steel ball, and the platform adjusted. The 
 ironwork and platform of this bridge cost about 1000A 
 
 As in engine turn-tables, improvements have been in¬ 
 troduced which have simplified and cheapened the con¬ 
 struction of swing bridges, and have rendered the working 
 of them easy and expeditious. The recent improvements 
 are—1st, making the framework of wrouglit-iron instead 
 of cast-iron, and thus reducing the weight of the platform, 
 and correspondingly the back-balance. 2nd, putting the 
 whole weight, or nearly the whole, on a centre pivot, 
 capped with a steel ball, working into a steel socket. 3rd, 
 having only four or six narrow" rimmed wheels, with axles 
 working in journals, and which are used merely to keep 
 
 the platform horizontal, instead of a large number of 
 conical rollers. By these and other minor improvements 
 not only is the friction reduced to a minimum, but the 
 construction is much simplified and cheapened, for the 
 live roller frame and upper roller path are done away with 
 altogether, and bridges of moderate size can easily be 
 worked by one man. 
 
 A swing bridge into which these improvements have 
 been introduced has lately been erected from drawings 
 made out by, and under the superintendence of, the 
 author, for carrying the Twecher and Neilston Railway, 
 belonging to Messrs. William Baird and Co., over the 
 Forth and Clyde Canal, near Kilsyth. The clear span of 
 this bridge is 25 feet, and the width of platforms 11 feet. 
 The abutments are constructed of timber piles, tied and 
 braced together, and covered with planking. On the 
 south abutment are fixed the centre pivot, and the cast¬ 
 ring or wheel-path, which is 11 feet in diameter. The 
 moving platform - consists of two wrouglit-iron girders, 
 each 45 feet long by 2 feet in depth at the pivot, and 
 14 inches at the outer extremities. These girders are 
 constructed of plates of angle irons riveted together in the 
 usual manner. Over the pivot the girders are joined 
 together by a strong cast-iron cross girder, made hollow 
 at the centre to encompass the pivot. To the top of this 
 cross girder, at the centre, is fitted a strong cap, into 
 which a steel socket is fitted. This socket works on the 
 steel ball, which is a semisphere 7 inches in diameter at 
 the base; and the cap is fixed to the girder by six If-inch 
 screw bolts, by means of which the bridge can be raised 
 or lowered a little for adjustment, and by which the whole 
 weight of the platform can be put on the pivot. The 
 longitudinal girders are further tied together by two cast- 
 iron and three wrouglit-iron cross girders. To the ends 
 of the cast-iron cross girders, along with the web of the 
 longitudinal girders, the wheel bearings are fixed by screw 
 bolts. The four wheels are of cast-iron, 18 inches in 
 diameter, with rounded tiers 2 inches broad. The axles 
 are of malleable iron 2f- inches in diameter, and revolve 
 in journals placed close to the main girders. The bridge 
 is covered, with planking 4 inches thick, and the rails are 
 laid upon the longitudinal timber- beams, which rest on 
 the planking right over the girders. The bridge is opened 
 and closed by simple gearing, the lower pinion working 
 into a circular rack, which is cast upon a part of the ring 
 or wheel track. The ends of the girders swing over the 
 abutment plates and about 1 inch clear of them; but, to 
 bring the platform to a solid bearing upon the plates, a 
 wrougkt-iron wedge, 9 inches broad, which slides in a 
 grooved frame fixed to the bottom flange at the end of 
 each girder, is driven tightly in between the girder and 
 abutment plate by means of handles, levers, and connect¬ 
 ing-rods ; and by the insertion of the four wedges the 
 platform is made perfectly rigid. The bridge has a self¬ 
 acting catch or lock to fix it when either closed or opened. 
 The back-balance weighs 13 tons, and consists of square 
 blocks of cast-iron, placed on the plates between the 
 girders behind the pivot. A considerable mineral traffic has 
 passed over this bridge during the last eighteen months, 
 
182 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 and it lias been found to answer the purpose satisfactorily. 
 It is easily opened or closed by one man in sixty or 
 seventy seconds. The moveable platform, including all the 
 ironwork, cost about 300/., and the abutments about 470/. 
 
 It remains now to allude briefly to the advantages and 
 disadvantages of draw and swing bridges in certain 
 positions. 
 
 Drawbridges are very suitable for crossing the entrances 
 and locks at harbours, where ground is limited and valu¬ 
 able, for all their parts are confined within the roadway, 
 whereas in swing bridges, -when open, the platform covers 
 ground or waterway of its own dimensions, which may 
 not in many cases be easily given up for this purpose, 
 as at the crowded docks of London. Drawbridges are 
 therefore still being adopted there, for besides the large 
 one erected at the Commercial Docks in 1853, already 
 referred to, and which has since worked perfectly satis¬ 
 factorily, another wrought-iron drawbridge, 34 feet span, 
 has been opened for traffic two weeks ago by the same 
 engineers at the same docks. A similar bridge was also 
 erected over the harbour of Great Yarmouth, 50 feet span, 
 in 1854. 
 
 Several cast-iron lift bridges were erected over the 
 entrance to the Hull docks forty-five years ago, and are 
 still in good working order. At many other places they 
 have been adopted with advantage. Their adaptability to 
 dock purposes is worthy of consideration by engineers, 
 where a large portion of the traffic, as in London, consists 
 of barges passing out and in, in which case it is only 
 necessary to raise the bridge a little to allow the barge to 
 pass; whereas in a swing bridge, the leaf would require 
 to he turned nearly full round, occupying much time. 
 
 However, in many cases, drawbridges are now being- 
 superseded by swing bridges. The principal advantages 
 of the latter are the simplicity of their construction, the 
 working parts being all above the abutments, and readily 
 got at, and consequently more easily kept in repair; and 
 their suitableness for railway purposes, for drawbridges 
 being nearly always in two leaves, it is difficult to make 
 them rigid enough for a passing train ; and for roads over 
 canals or other inland navigations they are not so con¬ 
 venient or so economically worked. 
 
 At present, on inland navigations where drawbridges are 
 in use, as on the Forth and Clyde Canal, one permanent 
 bridge-keeper is sufficient for each bridge, the leaf on the 
 towing-path side being raised by the horse-driver; but 
 when steam-power on canals becomes universal, as is 
 likely to be the case, two bridge-keepers will be needed to 
 work each of the drawbridges, otherwise a man from the 
 steamboat must leap ashore at every bridge for the purpose 
 of raising one-lialf of it—a practice which will both cause 
 delay and be dangerous. 
 
 The equilibrium of a drawbridge is often interfered 
 with by surface water running into the counterbalance 
 wells, and by the wooden platforms becoming soaked with 
 rain or dried by the sun’s rays. In a swing bridge the 
 exact equilibrium is not of so much consequence, for any 
 small over-weight on one end is easily borne by the 
 wheels. 
 
 It may therefore be expected that the day is not far 
 distant when swing bridges will take the place of draw¬ 
 bridges on all inland navigations on which moveable 
 bridges are required ; and even for harbours they are 
 generally found to be better suited for crossing locks and 
 entrances to docks and basins. 
 
 This subject has been brought forward so that the 
 merits and demerits of swing and drawbridges may be 
 considered and discussed, and not without the hope that 
 the engineering knowledge and skill of many of the 
 members of this Institution may suggest to them im¬ 
 provements which may still further simplify and economise 
 their construction. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE LONDON BRIDGE RAILWAY TERMINUS HOTEL. 
 
 Plates I. & II. 
 
 Large hotels are becoming as common in England as they have for / 
 some time been in America^ and, judging from present appearances, "'” 
 are likely to go on increasing. On calling at one of those monster 
 establishments the other day, we were informed that they had been 
 unable to afford accommodation to one hundred visitors who had 
 applied during a single week. They are paying large dividends to 
 their fortunate shareholders, and must be a great convenience to 
 strangers visiting London. 
 
 The London Bridge Railway Terminus Hotel has been built by a 
 joint stock company, from a design by Mr. H. Currey, of Lancaster- 
 place. The style is Italian, treated, however, with great originality, 
 and adapted with admirable judgment to the situation in which the 
 building is placed and the special commercial purpose for which it has 
 been erected. The length is about 130 feet, with a depth of 95 feet, 
 and an elevation of 110 feet. The edifice contains above 300 rooms, 
 and is fitted with every convenience that can ensure the comfort of the 
 visitors. The entire cost of the whole building was about 66,000/. 
 
 The builders were Messrs. Lucas and Sons. 
 
 The Coffee-room, shown in Plate II., is considered one of the most 
 richly-ornamented rooms of the kind in London. Indeed, one of the 
 advantages of establishments of this sort is, that they combine the 
 elegance of the club or mansion with the economy of an inferior hotel 
 or lodging-house. 
 
 The materials used are a mixture of Bath stone and brick, and we may 
 compliment the architect in having succeeded at a very moderate cost 
 in erecting a building which is an ornament to the metropolis. 
 
 VIEW OP CROSBY HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE. 
 
 Plates III. & IV. 
 
 The visitor to London who desires to go to Shoreditch from the Bank 
 will observe on the left hand, nearly opposite to the far-famed Crosby 
 Hall, the building given in these plates. It is a fine adaptation of the 
 Gothic style to street architecture, and seems to combine every ad¬ 
 vantage that can be desired for business purposes in a buildin°- of 
 extreme simplicity and beauty. 
 
 The architect is Mr. Wilkinson, of Oxford. He has used through¬ 
 out the very best materials, and we may congratulate him on having 
 set an example of architecture to the Victorian Age which his pro” 
 fessional brethren may stndy with advantage, and the public cannot 
 fail to admire. 
 
 Beauty, in architecture, painting, and other arts, is the harmony 
 and justice of the whole composition taken together.—B urrows. 
 
 The great use of the arts is to humanize and refine, to purify en¬ 
 joyment, and, when duly appreciated, to connect the perfection of 
 physical beauty with that of moral excellence. 
 
 ’Tis use alone that sanctifies expense, 
 
 And splendour borrows all her rays from sense. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 183 
 
 HINTS ON DESIGN IN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 BY E. n. HEFFEE, ESQ. 
 
 The excellence of any architectural design is in ratio with the amount 
 of thought and study brought to bear upon it. This may also be said 
 of other studies of a high intellectual order. It behoves us, then, to 
 spare no pains in the production of our designs, so that they may be 
 at once excellent and bear impress of deep and earnest thought. It 
 has often been observed that “ first ideas are best.” Now, granted 
 that they are, it would not be wise to make such ideas public in all 
 their crudity and incompleteness, as, in all probability, they would not 
 meet with that favour and recognition that they would otherwise have 
 obtained had they been subjected to that scrutiny and afterthought so 
 necessary to stamp them as originating in a lofty and cultivated mind. 
 
 How many architectural works do we see around that bear us out 
 in this reflection, the designs of which are in many respects good, and, 
 it may happen, very original, but, either from haste, inattention, or 
 other causes, are not allowed to undergo the refining process by the 
 mind of the architect necessary to rank them as works of'the highest 
 order of art. The student, therefore, should not spare any trouble in 
 the preparation of his design, neither should he be satisfied with it 
 until he has thoroughly studied and matured the whole, first collec¬ 
 tively, then individually. 
 
 To carry out an architectural design successfully and complete in all 
 its parts is no easy matter, but it may be done if the designer is 
 determined, and he cannot make too great a sacrifice towards obtaining 
 that reputation which is open to all, and should be coveted by those 
 that are engaged in the profession. We cannot over-estimate the value 
 of care and attention necessary to be bestowed upon any design that 
 tends to raise it above mediocrity. 
 
 Architecture is peculiarly a public property, being brought before 
 the eyes of thousands, and we should endeavour in every possible way 
 to add to the beauty of our towns and villages by erecting buildings 
 appropriate to their several uses, and agreeable and harmonious with 
 their surrounding companions. 
 
 Seeing the necessity for being careful in the preparation of our 
 designs, I must now say that, in the development of them, the first 
 idea should not be lost sight of. It is necessary occasionally to make 
 some departure from an original thought. Bear in mind, however, 
 not to deviate too much, for then it may be stripped of all its freshness 
 and originality. To an imaginative mind it is hard to curb the reins 
 of fancy. This, however, must be done. 
 
 The facade of a building might be rendered admirable by the slightest 
 alteration in the curvature of a window-head, by making the cornice 
 deeper, or by the omission of certain features; but for the want of 
 proper revision it is rendered objectionable to the eyes of skilful archi¬ 
 tects, and of dissatisfaction to others who are not competent to explain 
 the cause of their disapproval. 
 
 It is convincing, then, that certain principles must be adopted to 
 insure a successful result, and rules and principles, if made use of at 
 all, must be capable of practical application; and I will endeavour 
 to give a few hints on the subject of architectural composition for 
 the guidance of the student, hoping they will be received as the 
 result of some experience and great love for this branch of the arts. 
 I do so with great diffidence, feeling that I am but a tyro myself; 
 but if my paper should be the means of creating second thoughts, 
 I shall feel repaid for any trouble I have taken in the preparation 
 of it. 
 
 It matters little whether a building is to be designed after the 
 Greek, Roman, Gothic, or Renaissance manner. Whether Venetian or 
 Lombardic, Norman or Elizabethan, we shall, on examination, find 
 ruling principles in all of them; and I am of opinion that the merits 
 or demerits of any particular building rest not so much on the fact of 
 its having been erected in this style, so much admired by one, or that 
 style, deprecated by the other critic, but upon the presence or absence 
 of principles that are indispensable to the perfection of every architec¬ 
 tural structure. 
 
 Any design will be unsatisfactory and altogether a faulty one, no 
 matter how pure a style you adopt, if you should violate the rules of 
 composition ; and a style not to be admired in itself—as the Chinese, 
 for instance—might be turned to profitable account and made capable 
 of many valuable suggestions, if infused with spirit and invention that 
 is wanting in the other. 
 
 A great deal of valuable and instructive information has been written 
 on the subject of architectural aesthetics, and Mr. Garbett’s book, pub¬ 
 lished by Weale, is one of the best of which you can possess yourself. 
 
 The subject of design is fully and carefully treated. In it you will 
 find much to instruct, and there is a freshness and force in the treat¬ 
 ment of the whole subject that rivets the attention and delight of the 
 reader. I would recommend it to all. I have read it myself several 
 times, and found much benefit arise therefrom. My paper is but a 
 few hints in a practical way, just jotted down for reference. I do not 
 pretend to set before you such a dish as the one 1 have just alluded to. 
 
 Every habitable building requires to be provided with an entrance, 
 windows for the admission of light, and a roof for protection against 
 the inclemencies of the weather; as warmth is also necessary, we must 
 make provision for securing this end by building fire-places, the chim¬ 
 neys of which, if carried above the roof, afford the designer an excellent 
 opportunity of exercising his taste and skill. So far as necessity is 
 concerned, these are all the parts to be attended to in designing 
 dwellings; but if means are not altogether wanting to render the ele¬ 
 vation an object of pleasure and satisfaction to the eye, it is to adorn 
 and enrich these features that the genius of the architect must be 
 brought to bear; and the first thing to be considered in obtaining this 
 end is “ breadth”—not by lineal measure, but by the just proportions 
 of solid or plain surface with void and shadow. This is, generally 
 speaking, very difficult to be done, as the overcast and gloomy nature 
 of our atmosphere requires the windows to be of considerable dimen¬ 
 sions ; this disadvantage tending to destroy that breadth or repose so 
 very necessary to a proper architectural effect. 
 
 As a rule, then, if your design requires a large amount of window 
 space, more than is proper for the maintenance of this quality, you 
 must leave the walls as free from decoration as possible, only en¬ 
 riching the windows with small mouldings or a narrow architrave ; and 
 the cornice, with a small stringcourse and base moulding, would be 
 found quite sufficient to satisfy the eye. 
 
 It is not good taste to introduce—I may say, squeeze in—a buttress 
 or pilaster between windows or other openings closely set, thereby 
 covering the wall space that would have been much better left per¬ 
 fect^’ free from any decorative feature. Yet how often do we see this 
 done ? The defect I have just alluded to is particularly glaring if the 
 window-heads be straight and are closely set up to the cornice or fascia 
 above, for then the elevation presents altogether a disturbed and uneasy 
 appearance, the solid portions of it, as it were, being in the form of a 
 cross, or chequered, and becomes nothing more than pilaster, cornice, 
 and window. It would, indeed, be better to use curved or semicircular¬ 
 headed windows ; although they would not admit so large an amount 
 of light, yet they would allow of a small portion of the wall to be seen, 
 as the spandrels above them would be gained by this means, besides 
 making a variety in the lines of the composition. 
 
 Coupled windows, if the plan admits of it, enable you somewhat to 
 get over this crux, as you gain additional wall space ; and not only 
 that, you then reduce the voids one-half their former number, as each 
 coupled window becomes as one, thereby simplifying the entire ele¬ 
 vation, permitting you to treat them more elaborately, with wider 
 architraves, than you could otherwise have done had they remained 
 single. 
 
 Before I proceed any further, bear in mind that, if the proportions 
 and positions of the general outlines in an architectural composition 
 be not satisfactory and pleasing—if there are any radical errors and 
 want of principle involved in it, then you had better not attempt to 
 decorate or enrich it until you have carefully revised and corrected it, 
 as any amount of subsequent adornment cannot rectify or make up for 
 the want of this quality. 
 
 To insure breadth you can, as a rule, make the wall space between 
 the windows equal in width to the windows themselves, but not less. 
 This is, indeed, a good proportion where no buttress or column inter¬ 
 venes ; but on the contrary, if one of these features is introduced, you 
 must increase the space between the window and buttress sufficiently 
 to prevent a shadow from the latter entirely covering the wall space 
 and reaching to the windows. 
 
 Having spoken on the importance of preserving “breadth in your 
 composition, I will now touch upon the sevei'al parts of an architec¬ 
 tural elevation. 
 
 The doorway—no matter whether the building be a church, or ex¬ 
 change, or dwelling—should be the most conspicuous and prominent 
 feature in the facade, and it should always be designed and treated in 
 a dignified and vigorous manner, as being the principal point ot at¬ 
 traction. I am sure you will agree with me when I say there is 
 nothing finer in architecture than the noble portals of some of our 
 cathedrals and those on the Continent. 
 
 A doorway can scarcely be made too large; that this is perfectly 
 
184 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 understood by the architects of the present time is evidenced by looking 
 at the public and private buildings erected in this rapidly improving 
 town within the last few years—a satisfactory contrast to the miserable 
 and meagre entrances that were perpetrated during the two or three 
 reigns previous to this one. 
 
 One important thing in designing a doorway (particularly if it be 
 in the Italian style) is to give it a totally distinct character from the 
 windows. We frequently see the head of a door treated in exactly 
 the same manner and of the same shape as the window openings of the 
 building, thus giving a long and disproportioned appearance, the extra 
 height above the door (sometimes very considerable) being filled in 
 with glass or ironwork. No light over a door should exceed half its 
 width in height, unless it be a narrow one. The jambs should be built 
 of a hard material, so as to resist any injury that they are occasionally 
 (as in public buildings) very much exposed to. 
 
 The lower portion should be designed in a plain way, with few or 
 no projecting members, or if delicate and enriched ones be adopted, 
 take care they are protected by bold or plain parts. 
 
 As cornices do not seem to have been developed in Mediaeval archi¬ 
 tecture, nor to have taken so prominent a position as to form an inte¬ 
 gral feature, as the cornice of the anti-Gothic styles, perhaps, in speaking 
 about this important part of the elevation, I had better take my example 
 from an Italian design. 
 
 Give your cornice sufficient projection, but do not, as a rule, let It 
 project more than its depth, unless it be constructed of wood, in which 
 case it may greatly exceed this, particularly if it is supported by boldly 
 designed brackets; in this case, however, it must be treated as a wooden 
 construction, and not to imitate the forms of one only suited for a 
 heavier material, as stone. 
 
 As your elevation may perhaps depend a great deal upon the cornice 
 for producing shadow, see that you make it do its duty; but above 
 all, attend to the corona—this member is the principal one, and should 
 be proportioned with great care, as it is the ,f echo ” of the wall below, 
 in the same way (as observed by Mr. Garbett) that the tenia, or as¬ 
 tragal is the echo of tire cornice. As an uninterrupted cornice of some 
 length would present a monotonous and tiresome appearance if the 
 lower edge of the shadow cast from it upon the wall underneath was 
 not to be broken by the modillions or blocks, these necessary members 
 must be introduced to produce a satisfactory result; and it scarcely 
 matters how they are shaped where they are always in shadow, pro¬ 
 vided their faces catch the light, and by this means break the line of 
 shadow below. 
 
 Cornices should always be accompanied by friezes, as they tend to 
 grace and dignity; their use seems to be to blend and harmonise the 
 cornice with the wall, and are, in my mind, quite indispensable to a 
 good effect. 
 
 If no architrave and few members are introduced below the frieze, it 
 can be made much deeper than if accompanied by those features, and 
 if slightly advanced from the general wall line of the building-an im¬ 
 provement will follow. 
 
 The cornice or upper member in the architecture of the Mediaeval 
 Period, although very different in its application, seems to possess the 
 same guiding principles as in other styles. As it is, with rare excep¬ 
 tion, stopped by the buttress'rising up at the division of every bay, it 
 is not so requisite to introduce blocks-or paterae to take away a mono¬ 
 tony, but at the same time is much improved by those decorative 
 features, as the shadow cast from them into the hollow at the 
 back produces a fine contrasting line, and enables us to judge of its 
 contour. 
 
 The Gothic cornice is frequently designed with a smaller member 
 running below and parallel with it, which is as indispensable as the 
 tenia in the other styles, unless the cornice includes a large eavetto, 
 turning out at the lower edge and producing the echo. 
 
 We thus see that whatever style we adopt to decorate our buildings 
 the same principles must be carried out in every case. We must have 
 in the cornice the deep contrasting shadow cast upon the wall beneath ; 
 we must have the corona, with the cymatium above; and, for the per¬ 
 fect satisfaction of the eye, some small projecting member to break the 
 outline of the corona’s shadow. The importance, then, of bestowing 
 great care in the proportions of this essential feature of architecture is, 
 I think, felt by all painstaking architects, and a paper exclusively 
 devoted to it might be written at some length and listened to without 
 weariness. 
 
 The basement is perhaps not thought to require so much attention 
 as the other parts of a building, for we see many erections that are 
 faulty in this part; but if we give a little thought to the subject, we 
 
 shall see that it is a very important one. Small feet may be consi¬ 
 dered a beauty by the Chinese, but a meagre, weak-looking basement 
 is in no way to be accounted‘-beautiful. 
 
 Now it is almost impossible to give too great importance to this 
 essential feature in architectural design, and therefore study to preserve 
 to it due boldness and freedom of treatment, but taking care to avoid 
 coarseness. Restrictions are imposed by building acts that interfere 
 somewhat with the carrying out of all that could be wished in 
 designing a good basement. In the crowded thoroughfares of our 
 towns it is sometimes almost impossible to give due importance to this 
 feature, but, by ingenuity, a great deal may be effected. 
 
 In church architecture (as a considerable space is usually left free 
 around the edifice) you are not so trammelled, and you have scope to 
 produce a prominent basement; but in all cases it is right to design 
 the several parts so that they may not be liable to receive any injury 
 by getting knocked off or disfigured by passers-by. 
 
 To judge of the value of the basement, we have only to compare 
 the building of the Oxford University Museum, designed by Messrs. 
 Dean and Woodward, with the Liverpool Collegiate Institution, by 
 Elmes; or the New Palace of Westminster, where the Victoria Tower 
 may be seen—one of the noblest designs conceivable—not intruding 
 upon the eye of the spectator, but worthy to bear above its glorious 
 burthen. 
 
 I- may add - that the introduction of window openings is to be 
 avoided, as it materially weakens that stability of effect that true 
 architecture should always possess. 
 
 On the subject of shadow, much I feel might be written, as it affords 
 a very large field for thought and study. I am aware that a great 
 deal has been said regarding this subject already, but it seems as if the 
 attention that could be brought to bear upon it were unlimited, and I 
 am therefore - sorry that want of time will prevent me from doing 
 anything but touch upon this part in the study of architectural com¬ 
 position. 
 
 In the first place, to bring good shadows you -must design good 
 members and projections, both in the plan or general outlines of your 
 building, also in the chief features, and lastly, the mouldings; and 
 bear in mind that an over-proportion of shadow will destroy 
 “ breadth,” as well as create confusion by a multiplicity of lines and 
 decoration. You- must therefore spire no pains in drawing out the 
 details of your building, taking care to judge aright the quantity of 
 shadow each projecting member will cast below, and above all, see that 
 the profiles of them are gracefully and chastely drawn. It is a very 
 common error-to hurry over this part of the draughtsman’s work, the 
 general arrangement and disposition of the plan and the construction 
 taking the most prominent place and attention ; and frequently details 
 are drawn out at a few minutes’ notice, whilst a workman is waiting, 
 which, when reproduced in stone, timber, or whatever the material 
 may be, appear faulty, and a source of great annoyance. 
 
 The value-of cast shadow (or that which is produced by one object 
 that falls upon another), seems to be much appreciated at the present 
 time, and is often carried to great length, square-faced and sharp angles 
 being very often introduced, and even the ornamental portions are de¬ 
 signed to give a crisp effect; but the extreme is to be avoided, as a 
 harsh and unpleasing appearance is produced, robbing the horizontal 
 lines and severe parts of your design of their proper value, yet adding 
 no grace. The production of forms, other than simple geometrical 
 ones, does not give a satisfactory result in flat-faced ornamentation. 
 
 As a right idea cannot be always formed of the effect certain por¬ 
 tions of architectural detail may produce when executed and placed in 
 position, if they are drawn out in the office, it is much better to do 
 this at the building, as a far more satisfactory idea can then be had; 
 and, if possible, small pieces should be worked, or run in plaster, and 
 fixed at the proper height. 
 
 No full-sized detail should be drawn out from the small plans until 
 a drawing to a medium scale be first produced, say 1 inch or 1^ to the 
 foot (the latter is the best, as the parts are easily measured off with a 
 common rule), as it will generally be found necessary to modify or 
 alter some of the members, for it often happens that the design has a 
 coarser appearance when enlarged; therefore this gives you the oppor¬ 
 tunity of refining it, and will ultimately be a saving of time and trouble 
 in the preparation of the full-sized details. 
 
 A new court-house is about to be built at Dumfries. It will cost 
 about G500Z., and will be built in the Franco-Scottish style. 
 
 ’Tis not a lip or cheek we beauty call. 
 
 But the joint force and full result of all. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 185 
 
 ANTIQUE VASES AND MURAL DECORATIONS, AS 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 The number of details of plan and ornamentation in the architecture 
 of the ancients, and points of history, which require elucidation, is 
 very considerable. We do not even yet know how the Parthenon was 
 lighted : there are different restorations of the polychromy; and we 
 are not certain about the arrangement of the internal columns. Re¬ 
 specting the scene of the ancient theatre much is wanting: the design 
 of the Mausoleum is not admitted to have been reproduced; and the 
 dates, localities, and modes of origin of the orders are not completely 
 unveiled. The insufficiency of remains of the ancient buildings to 
 afford the desired information leaves great importance to such re¬ 
 searches as those of Professor Donaldson. Quite as valuable as medals, 
 probably, are the mural paintings, as those of Pompeii, Herculaneum, 
 and Rome, and the paintings on terra-cotta vases. To this subject, 
 including that of the decoration of the exteriors of temples, Mr. Hit- 
 torff, as well known, has given much attention. A memoire by him 
 will be found in the second volume, published in 1830, of the “ An¬ 
 ilities ” of the Archaeological Institute of Rome; and his elaborate 
 work, “ Restitution du Temple d’Empedocle a Selinunte, ou Archi 
 tecture Polychrome chez les Grecs ” (Paris, 1851), will be in the re¬ 
 collection of our readers. Mr. Hittorff has lately made, at the Academies 
 “ des Beaux Arts ” and “ des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres,” a further 
 important contribution to his subject, under the form of an Essay on 
 the Ancient Paintings, in their relation with architecture, and espe¬ 
 cially on a painting at Pompeii which presents the prototype of the 
 most remarkable tomb of Petra, the ancient capital of Arabia Petrea. 
 The author has entrusted us with the original essay and drawings; 
 and though we cannot give a complete translation of the one, or a re¬ 
 production of all the illustrations, we proceed to note the main points 
 which he has brought to light, and shall engrave some of the drawings 
 to accompany a second article on the subject. It will be understood 
 that we are giving a summary of Mr. liittorff’s investigations and 
 conclusions, unless otherwise made apparent, in what follows. 
 
 The painter’s art in the decoration of public and private buildings 
 of the Greeks and Romans comprised a great number of different 
 forms of treatment. Without speaking of all, three grand categories 
 may be distinguished. First, there is decorative painting, properly so 
 called. This consists of compartments, constantly varied, strewn with 
 flowers and fruits, and figures of men and animals; and also offering 
 charming architectonic inventions, in which the real monuments are 
 transformed into fanciful edifices, where the innumerable colonnades 
 and porticoes are composed of the thinnest stalks from the vegetable 
 kingdom, carrying enamelled tiled roofs, pediments edged with lace, 
 and cupolas in gold and silver network. Secondly, there are the paint¬ 
 ings of mythological and historical subjects, in which philosophy, so 
 familiar to the artists of antiquity, placed instructive scenes in the 
 midst of capricious and light arabesques. These compositions, in 
 which the actions of heroes, and the idea of the influence of the divi¬ 
 nities, and of fatality pursuing the royal families, dominate, seem to 
 have had for object the bringing the thoughts back to the implacable 
 destiny of man,—showing him daily his existence shared with happi¬ 
 ness and misfortune. The third class is composed of landscapes, sea 
 pieces, and architectural views; sometimes apparently truthful repre¬ 
 sentations, and sometimes fanciful compositions. 
 
 This classification is not adapted to the paintings on vases. In 
 these, the subjects of the poems of Homer, the mythological fables of 
 the rhapsodists transformed into popular legends, and scenes from the 
 Greek tragedies and sometimes from the comedies, predominate. The 
 human figure, idealized by the features of gods and heroes, occupies 
 the principal place. But in these compositions, again, architectonic 
 elements are very numerous and of the highest interest. Towns, 
 temples, theatres, fountains, royal palaces, and private edifices, and a 
 considerable number of funereal monuments, may be distinguished. 
 In many of the paintings, where the entire scene could not be depicted, 
 the artist has tried to express it partially. The indication of a doorway, 
 the outline of openings of an unusual form, or of ordinary windows, 
 the suspension of offerings and pictures ex voto, and of arms and 
 trophies, serve to express the entrance of a temple or a palace, or the 
 walls of a pronaos or a prothyrum: an altar, and a vase or cup, indi¬ 
 cate the place of sacrifices and ablutions: columns represent the pteroma 
 which surrounds the naos of a divinity, or the peristyle which forms 
 the atrium of a palace. Having remarked, as said above by ourselves, 
 that the knowledge of these paintings would supply the place of docu¬ 
 ments that are wanting on the general history of the architecture of 
 6 
 
 the ancients, Mr. Hittorff proceeds to mention some of the examples 
 which he has published; and he then proceeds to a new and extended 
 study of one painting in particular. He first cites the reproduction, 
 in the form of painting, of two funereal monuments of which the form 
 is that of works of the kind still existing. In one of the cases, the 
 subject of a painting mentioned by Pausanias as nearly effaced, is com¬ 
 pleted by the painting on the vase. The other painting also seems to 
 represent a tomb with a figure-subject as decoration. In both these 
 examples, drawn from the work of Passeri, “ Picturse Etruscorum,” 
 &c., columns with Ionic volutes are represented, as well as pediments; 
 whilst the last-mentioned example displays a frieze with triglyphs con¬ 
 joined with the Ionic. 
 
 The representations of columns on vases, the author observes, would 
 afford occasion for some most important studies. The number and 
 variety might form materials for a nearly complete course on the his¬ 
 tory of architecture. There may be found, he says, “ the use, as 
 conical -support, of the tree denuded of its bark, thin in proportions, 
 and bearing at the summit a piece of timber: this last oversails the 
 thickness of the shaft only on two sides, in order to take the bearing 
 of the architraves. These, then, are columns and capitals which ex¬ 
 plicitly characterize the primitive use of wood in the constructions of 
 the Hellenes • they are consequently a powerful confirmation of the 
 historic ideas which, establish this fact, admitted by men the most 
 erudite.” Continuing what we believe is a correct translation :—“A 
 shaft much diminished; then above, a lusty echinus; the two joining 
 together by the progressive jutting-out of a curved line with a broad 
 and lofty square platform, the abacus: behold the first manner in 
 which stone was used in the form of the Doric column. This shaft, 
 again, presents the traces of a reminiscence of the form of the tree: 
 but its erown-work is imprinted with the character, very pronounced, 
 of a capital worked in a block, and no longer fashioned from a piece of 
 wood. It is, in fact, the expression of the type of the column in stone, 
 of the most ancient examples known.” Representations of all the 
 variations of the Doric shaft, of different dates, he says, are to be 
 found. It will be seen that Mr. Hittorff does not notice any theory 
 of the derivation of the Doric from Egypt, or the hypothesis of the 
 production of the column of that order through the medium cf suc¬ 
 cessive chamferings of angles,-starting from a square pier,—any more 
 than the assertion of many writers as to the greater affinity of the 
 form with original stone construction than with wood,—against which 
 hypothesis and assertion, however, must be set the undoubted fact of 
 the imitation of the stalks of plants in the most bulky of the Egyptian 
 columns. 
 
 But not only the Doric, the Ionic order, Mr. Hittorff continues, is 
 equally represented in all its phases. The study of the representations 
 of columns with voluted capitals has even greater historic importance 
 than- the other: it shows that the origin of the Ionic, like that of the 
 Doric order, mounts to the most distant period; and that the use of 
 the former has followed the same gradation as that of the latter. At 
 first, the proportions of the columns are like those of the primitive 
 Doric; the shafts have no bases, the capitals are composed of big 
 volutes and thick abaci, whilst subsequently the proportion of the 
 shafts, the bases, and the capitals and their ornaments, are similar to 
 those of the Erectheion of Athens. In fine, a succession of columns of 
 .the same order, filling up the interval between the original rude 
 solidity and the perfect measure of force and grace of the monuments 
 raised at the best epochs of the art, unfolds a complete series of facts 
 left hitherto hardly perceived. In comparing the voluted capitals dis¬ 
 covered in Sicily and Greece with those on the vases, the accordance 
 between the most ancient of the forms, like that of Selinus, confirms 
 the fidelity of the representation. The accordance also furnishes, by 
 the proof which it gives of the very great antiquity of the Ionic, a 
 peremptory reason for its use with the entablature of triglyphs. 1 his 
 point, long unsuspected, Mr. Hittorff claims to have established, not 
 only by the evidence of ancient paintings of all kinds, but by that of 
 many buildings. It is equally worthy of remark, he continues, that 
 the most ancient forms of the capitals are solid masses, where the 
 abacus and the volutes, intimately bound together, extend themselves 
 laterally in the direction ot the architraves, and so as to relieve them ; 
 these capitals have the appearance of two consoles joined together, or 
 a form more rational than was that of the Doric capital, of which the 
 projection in front and rearward was without object, since it carried 
 nothing and interrupted the fine horizontal line of the architrave. In 
 taking into account the provision of solidity as “point de depart , it 
 is the voluted capital as at its origin, and consequently the Ionic 
 column, which would have been employed the earliest: the capital was 
 
 B B 
 
186 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OE THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 most en rapport with the entablature of triglyphs, “ of which the 
 original rational construction in carpentry has never been in the posi¬ 
 tion to be contested in a plausible manner.” 
 
 These observations, then, Mr. Hittorff urges, indicate a succession 
 of circumstances entirely in favour of the appearance of the Ionic order 
 in Greece concurrently with the Doric. One may conclude from them, 
 he says, the impossibility of deriving the capital of the former from 
 that of the latter order, and of placing its first employment at the 
 temple of Ephesus, or its creation exclusively in Ionia: they open, in 
 fine, a wider field for consideration on the pedigree of the nations that 
 employed the Ionic, as also on the epochs when such nations raised the 
 buildings bearing the predominant character of the architecture in 
 which the order is found. Looking at the character and antiquity of 
 the Sicilian Ionic capitals, and that still more ancient of the capitals 
 on the vases, the author of the essay feels permitted to carry the date 
 of the use of this kind of capital to that of the primitive edifices of 
 Selinus. Now, that city was founded towards the thirty-seventh 
 Olympiad, or eighty-four years before the commencement of the con¬ 
 struction of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, fixed as towards the 
 fifty-eighth Olympiad. According to Pliny, the construction of the 
 latter temple lasted 220 years, and the first Ionic capitals and the first 
 bases were employed there. Taking this assertion, and supposing 
 regular progression in the works, it would have required 110 years to 
 arrive at the capitals, which therefore could not have been set in their 
 places before the seventy-third Olympiad. But the allegation of that 
 first use of the voluted capital seems so much the less certain, because 
 Vitruvius, where he speaks of the same temple, makes no mention of 
 the circumstance. 
 
 It is in explaining the origin of the three orders that the Latin 
 author cites the Doric as the most ancient, and as invented fortuitously. 
 It is in the same place that he attributes to the Ionians:—1, the dis¬ 
 covery of the proportion of the Doric column of 1 to 6, which they had 
 derived from the relation of the length of the foot with the height of 
 a man; and, 2, the Ionic proportion, 1 to 8, as taken from the pro¬ 
 portions more slender of the woman, the adoption of the base in imita¬ 
 tion of sandals, the junction of volutes to the capitals to reproduce the 
 curls of the hair, and the employment of the fluting of the shaft to 
 figure the folds of the robe. It is in the same place that he explains 
 the Corinthian column as representing the graceful form of a girl. It 
 is not necessary, says the French author, to insist on the slight con¬ 
 sistency of these several assertions. As regards the Doric, they are 
 refuted by very ancient columns of that order which have only a height 
 of little more than four diameters, and by those of the Parthenon, 
 which have only five diameters and a half. As regards the Ionic, the 
 forms of ancient capitals existing and those shown on vases, are against 
 the hypotheses, whether of curls of hair, or rams’ horns on altars, or 
 others. It is the same as regards the flutings; since the Doric has 
 them at all epochs, and has not only those with an arris, but those 
 with the fillet usually considered peculiar to the Ionic. Lastly, as to 
 the base in imitation of the sandals; these were worn by men as well 
 as women. 
 
 We do not find that Mr. Hittorff has quite explained the circum¬ 
 stance that some of his examples from the ,vases, which we understand 
 him to give as of early date, are greatly attenuated in proportions; 
 and we should be wrong in not adding, whatever importance our 
 readers may attach to the remark, that the fluting of the pillars or 
 pilasters, and some other details, have great resemblance to details of 
 Bomau works which are late in date. 
 
 The Corinthian and Composite columns painted on the vases, Mr. 
 Hittorff adds, bear, like the Ionic, sometimes the entablature with 
 triglyphs. 
 
 Relative to the character of architectui'e that was the result of this 
 mixture, as we should call it, of the orders, he has some remarks 
 which may be interesting to those who have read our article of a recent 
 date on Mr. E. Henan’s researches. These researches, it will be re¬ 
 membered, had some bearing on the question of architecture, if 
 art there was, amongst the Jews. Mr. Hittorff says, if it appear 
 fair to draw the rigorous consequence from the antiquity of the 
 Ionic order, and its primitive use without base, and with an entabla¬ 
 ture of triglyphs,—as the order is seen in the tombs hewn in the rock 
 near Jerusalem,—namely, that these tombs mount to the epoch of the 
 kings of Judah and of the prophets of whom they bear the names,— 
 it is impossible not to see in them the traditional imitation of monu¬ 
 ments of epochs very distant; a supposition that is confirmed by the 
 elements of Egyptian architecture that those tombs also display. 
 
 In one of the plates of Mr. Hittorff’s work on polychromatic archi¬ 
 
 tecture already named, representations were given of Greek and Roman 
 monuments, in which there were entablatures with triglyphs sur¬ 
 mounting Corinthian and Composite columns. The fact of such a 
 conjunction practised, is confirmed by what may be found in the first 
 chapter of the fourth book of Vitruvius. The old author, as we 
 translate from the French, says: “ The Corinthian column is different 
 to that of the Ionic only in the capital, which is in height the dia¬ 
 meter of its shaft: whilst the Ionic capital has in height but a third 
 of this diameter. The entablature for the Corinthian order is bor¬ 
 rowed alternatively from the Doric or the Ionic. The Corinthian 
 order has by itself nothing pertaining to it in its entablature and the 
 ornaments of this latter ; but sometimes, according with what is proper 
 for triglyphs, mutules are placed in the corona, and guttffi in the 
 architrave, as in the Doric order; sometimes, according to the Ionian 
 variety, it has the frieze ornamented with sculpture and dentils dis¬ 
 tributed in the cornice. So that, by the side of the Doric and Corin¬ 
 thian orders, the introduction of a capital has created in architecture a 
 third order.” In reference to this, Mr. Hittorff had said, in his book, 
 that many Corinthian entablatures, belonging to the antique, that 
 Philibert de l’Orme had drawn at Rome and which he published in his 
 work, bear in like manner triglyphs. 
 
 All the varied representations of columns are recognised as copies of 
 real architectonic elements, made with rapidity by painters with whom 
 might be expected to be wanting the rigid exactitude that architects 
 alone might have been capable of bringing to the work. That would 
 probably be our author’s explanation of a difficulty which we have 
 alluded to. Finalty, the steles on the vases crowned with palinettes, 
 and identical with the steles of marble, should be examined, as well 
 as the Doric and Ionic columns of a particular proportion, and an ex¬ 
 pressive character as isolated funereal monuments ; also the very simple 
 folding-doors to openings, with their accessories, rails, stiles, knockers, 
 locks, and ornamental nails, as they are sculptured on tombs, or on 
 stone and marble relievos; and other folding-doors which bring to 
 mind the descriptions of the magnificent gates of bronze enriched with 
 sculptures in gold and silver, or of precious woods encrusted with 
 ivory, mother of pearl, and ebony, which decorated the splendid sanc¬ 
 tuaries let these be observed, he says, as well as the ornaments of 
 architecture, and always will be found reproduced the motifs that we 
 admire now, as painted upon the ancient temples of Sicily, or sculp¬ 
 tured on the fine monuments of Greece. 
 
 THE MONUMENTAL CHARACTER OF FRENCH ART. 
 
 There is a monumental character about the best pictures of the French 
 school that distinguishes them in a more marked manner from English 
 pictures of the same class than any other general characteristic that 
 can be pointed out. Some critics have called attention to the more 
 sober, and perhaps too brown, tone of French painting as its chief dis¬ 
 tinction, and remark on the great want of colour which is felt on passing 
 from the English gallery to the French at the International Exhibition. 
 But this is a minor, and altogether superficial distinction. There is in 
 the French school a tendency to idealization, and in the English a 
 preference for literalness, and what has been termed realism, which lie 
 much nearer the root of the real distinction. There is, also, a con¬ 
 scientious carefulness in the treatment of detail in French paintings of 
 a high class which is frequently absent in English works, in which the 
 painter is too apt to supply by a clever dash those effects of drapery, or 
 any other accessory, which the French artist would cai-efully paint-in, 
 according to his own conception of the style in which its reproduction 
 should be treated. It may be said that our pre-Raffaelites have ex¬ 
 ceeded every other school in the careful treatment of every detail. This 
 may be so; but neither the manner nor sentiment of the pre-Raffaelites 
 have any analogy with the kind of care which characterizes the French 
 treatment of accessorial objects. The leading quality of the French 
 school, as already stated, consists in a certain kind of idealization of 
 the subject to be treated, both as to its general conception and the 
 treatment of its principal figures. This kind of idealization extends 
 also to the treatment of minute detail. The flutter of a piece of 
 drapery, the tone or shadow of a wave, the amount of definition in a 
 branch and its foliage, all these are idealized upon the same principle 
 as the leading features of the composition. It is the instinctive and 
 continuous observation of this principle that gives to French art a certain 
 stately and monumental character which is the leading quality of the 
 school. This quality is found even in the stiffest compositions of 
 David; but it is of the more recent productions of French art that we 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 187 
 
 are speaking. The works of Girodet, Guerin, and other artists who 
 flourished at the beginning of the century, form links between the 
 style of David and that of the living (or recently living) artists of a 
 school of which Ingres, Delaroche, and Horace Vernet may be cited as 
 leading representatives. 
 
 The principle of idealization in the best examples of French art is 
 always founded upon the chief characteristic of the object idealized, 
 whether in a principal figure, or in a feature of subordinate detail. For 
 instance, in the exquisite work by M. Ingres, at the International Ex¬ 
 hibition, which he entitles “ La Source,” the poetical embodiment of a 
 poetic idea is the main object of the artist. By “ La Source” (the 
 Spring, or Source) the painter wishes to symbolize the youth of nature 
 —the morning of all life. The spring of water gushing from the 
 rock is, in the mind of the painter, the youth of the fertilizing river, 
 as the spring of the year embodies promise of summer flowers and the 
 harvest of autumn. And so the girl-child, like the bud to the flower, 
 is the youthful type of the mature and fruitful woman. In attempting 
 thus to shadow forth pictorially the early springtime of the universal 
 life of nature, the “ Source” of her eternal fertility, he has naturally 
 made the most beautiful of his symbols the principal one, the analogous 
 emblems becoming mere accessories, but each wrought out with the 
 greatest care according to its prominence in the composition ; and each, 
 with the principal figure, being poetically idealized. In this picture 
 the essential characteristic in the author’s conception was a poetical 
 idea to be embodied in poetically idealized forms; the forms being 
 strictly those of nature, but select nature, not common nature. The 
 eye of a great artist becomes so trained to the appreciation of excel¬ 
 lence that he is enabled to combine beauties which no one model could 
 present, hut which he has observed separately, and found the art of 
 combining in a single form. His subject could have been treated in 
 no other way. A realistic and literal portrait of a nude girl might 
 have formed a clever picture, but not the poetically exquisite conception 
 which the ideal of the great artist has here presented. It is this 
 feeling and the conscientious care with which all the details are 
 wrought (not with the painful literalness of the pre-Raffaelite school, 
 but with just the requisite amount of definition, and no more) which 
 impart to the great works of the French school, whether of large or 
 small dimensions, that monumental character which almost invariably 
 distinguishes them. Their careful refinement of line, their well- 
 balanced parts, their correct drawing, impart to them a quality which 
 makes them harmonize with the studied symmetry of architecture and 
 sculpture much more intimately than the works of the English school 
 would do, with but very few exceptions. This capability of amalga¬ 
 mation with the productions of the sister arts is one of the chief 
 tests by means of which what we may term a monumental character 
 in painting may be tested. “ The Source,” by M. Ingres, is a thing 
 of beauty belonging to no especial time—there is no shade of expres¬ 
 sion—no national feature—no tone of colour that associates it more 
 intimately with the sympathies of one age than another. Its charm, 
 like that of Greek sculpture, is of all time. It is, indeed, like a 
 sweetly tinted statue, pure as beauty wrought in “monumental 
 alabaster,” but warmed with the glow of a lifelike tone, which might 
 serve as the model for that kind of statue-tinting which would be 
 eminently successful, if it were but essayed with more boldness and 
 more skill. 
 
 Of idealism of another kind, less poetical but more picturesque, the 
 famous Hemicycle of the Ecole des Beaux Arts at Paris, is a fine 
 example. In this composition, the great painters of all ages are re¬ 
 presented in their habits as they lived, but so harmoniously grouped, so 
 grandly and yet so carefully drawn, that the ascetic features and simple 
 robe of Cimabue seem quite in their place near the elaborate richness 
 of the dress of Raffael and his courtierlike scholars, and within sisrlit 
 of the gorgeous Flemish dress of the dramatic Rubens. In the separate 
 figures, it is, as the subject demands, a striking individuality rather 
 than a generalizing and poetic idealism that is sought by the painter. 
 And yet, though the individuality is in each case striking, it is so 
 rather through an ennobling treatment of the leading quality of each 
 subject than by a literal (and as one may say, photographic) treatment 
 that the effect sought for is so finely achieved. A pre-Raffaelite would 
 have given us such painfully accurate reproductions of the wrinkles of 
 Rembrandt, the pimples of jovial Adrien Brail wer, and the broken nose 
 of the great Buonarotti, that, without adding one iota to the striking 
 individualism which has been cast about each figure by the pencil of 
 Delaroche, would have marred with vulgar detail one of the noblest 
 works which art has ever created. It would have been like that 
 characteristic of Chinese painting, which would elaborate more carefully 
 
 the darning of a rent, than the natural folds of the drapery itself. In 
 short, either an overwrought minuteness or a dashy carelessness of 
 detail would utterly destroy the monumental character which distin¬ 
 guishes the picturesque as much as it does the poetic school of French 
 art. 
 
 In paintings of a dramatic character the same monumental grandeur 
 of treatment still prevails. Among pictures of incident which belong 
 to this class we may select battle-pieces as those in which the French, 
 as a naturally military nation, are most eminently successful. The 
 battle scenes of Horace Vernet, Bellange, Isidore Pils, Adolphe Yvon, 
 and many others, exhibit a mastery over subjects of action that was 
 never attained before, in any artistic epoch. The terrible truth of 
 mortal combat is told with a power evidently derived from actual know¬ 
 ledge. Vernet and Bellange have been'deep in the melee of the scenes 
 they depict with such force, and such a thorough knowledge of the 
 atmospheric effects produced by that terrible burning of gunpowder. 
 They have heard the rattling volley from a serried line of infantry, 
 have seen the Line disappear in the smoke-cloud of the discharge, and 
 seen that cloud borne oil' by the wind, as the Line emerged from it, au 
 pas de charge. The effect of masses, the detail of nearer groups, the 
 expression of foreground figures, have all been seen and studied from 
 the life,—and from the death. And yet, while all is so terribly true in 
 its general aspect, and even in its details, it is ennobled by a certain 
 kind of idealism which seems to impart additional truth, rather than 
 exaggeration or any kind of falseness to the subject. This is neces¬ 
 sarily the case when the idealization is guided by a principle which 
 derives it from the leading characteristic of the special nature that is to 
 be depicted: it is not intensification—not over action, not a positive 
 increase of any ingredient in the general effect that is sought, but a 
 kind of general ennobling of existing features. The imperturbable 
 coolness, combined with the power of frantic dash, which distinguish 
 the Zouave, is mentally studied ; and various individual types, through 
 the medium of which it may be best expressed, are developed with the 
 true artistic power with which nothing but atelier life under the early 
 guidance of great masters can ever fully endow an artist. It is this 
 system of organized study in youth, the emulation of a crowd of 
 pupils, half rivals half friends, which gives to the works of the greatest 
 among French artists an art-completeness which stands in some re¬ 
 spects unapproachable. These qualities of French art are like the 
 kind of wit which is translateable into all languages. The “ Spring,” 
 or the “ Odalisque” of Ingres would be equally perfect, equally beau¬ 
 tiful, as statues in marble; and the most complicated battle pieces of 
 Vernet or Bellange could be reproduced as marble reliefs with scarcely 
 any other loss than the colour and the atmospheric perspective ; so 
 skilfully are the groups at different distances managed, with that general 
 knowledge of all art which seems to include in its grasp the possibility 
 of marble and chisel being adopted as mediums of expression instead of 
 brush and canvas. It is this broad feeling for art in its widest sense 
 that gives to works of the great French artists that monumental 
 character which we have sought to define in the present essay, in which 
 no disparagement to native talent is in any way inferred in the views 
 expressed. Indeed, the English school has great, and in some respects 
 unapproachable excellences of its own, which we propose to analyse on 
 some future occasion .—-Literary JBudget. 
 
 Cement foe Leaky House Roofs. —The Scientific American 
 gives the following receipt for making cement for leaky house roofs :— 
 Take four pounds of rosin, one pint of linseed oil, two ounces of red 
 lead, and stir in pulverised sand until the proper consistency is secured, 
 and apply it warm. This cement becomes hard and y r et possesses con¬ 
 siderable elasticity, and it is durable and waterproof. 
 
 A Fountain is in course of erection before the eastern entrance of 
 the Champs Elysees, which is nineteen feet in height, and is composed 
 of a lower basin, eleven feet in diameter, another smaller basin, and a 
 pillar for the jet of water, out of which springs a candelabrum. It is 
 formed of granite. The principal basin was wrought, by manual 
 labour, out of a block of granite weighing about twenty-four tons and 
 a half, and which was transported from Cape Finisterre. 
 
 A Gallo-Roman tombstone has been discovered, in digging the 
 foundation of a new court of justice at Auxerre, in the site of the old 
 Botanic Garden. An earthen urn, containing charcoal, was found near 
 the tombstone. 
 
 The explorations at the Palatine Mount, in Rome, are being cor» 
 tinued with success. A statue of great beauty and of high value 
 has just been found, which is said to be of the finest period of Greek 
 art. 
 
 B B 
 
188 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAF AGE. 
 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 ENGINEERING AND ARCHITECTURAL PROGRESS * 
 
 The rapid strides made by engineering and architecture during, the 
 present century have imperatively called for this publication. So 
 numerous and diversified are the improvements to which our attention 
 is daily directed, that some resume or digest of the successive steps 
 becomes a desideratum, not merely to the professional- architect and 
 engineer, but even to the general reader. The most abstruse penetralia 
 of science exercise an important influence over our every-day domestic 
 life; and the destinies -of the world hang trembling in the balance, 
 whilst its chief families are straining every nerve in the struggle for 
 naval supremacy. To supply the world with a faithful record of its 
 engineering progress without touching on the personal opinions which 
 to a greater or less extent must enter into all controverted questions, 
 has been the object of the author of this work ; and to say that he has 
 performed his arduous task with zeal and impartiality is but-faint 
 praise for the ability with which it has been executed. It is indeed a 
 comprehensive digest of all matters of interest that have occurred 
 within the year. The first division of the work is devoted to Civil 
 Engineering, and comprises a series of papers on Railways and Roads ; 
 then come Harbours, Docks,- and Canals, Gas and Water Supply and 
 Sewerage, Agricultural Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, Mining, 
 Metallurgy, and Telegraphic Engineering. Division II. is devoted to 
 Architecture; the first section discussing Style and Design, and the 
 second Practical Architectuie. Division III. is occupied with Military 
 Engineering; the first section being devoted to Constructions, Forti¬ 
 fications, &c. ; the second to Weapons and Projectiles ; and the third 
 to- Transport Service and Pontoons. Division IV. is on Naval En¬ 
 gineering : section first, Hydrography, Tides, and Currents; section 
 second, Shipbuilding, Armaments, Ac.: section three, Steam Engines, 
 Propellers, &c.: whilst Division V. is occupied with miscellaneous 
 questions, such as important legal decisions, and notices of recent 
 works on engineering and architecture. The volume contains on the 
 whole above sixty well-written papers, many of which are treatises of 
 no ordinary merit; so that the work may be pronounced to be a com¬ 
 pendium of what every practical or well-informed man needs either to 
 remember or have at hand to refer to. 
 
 Tn the department of Civil Engineering much attention has been 
 directed to the extension of our metropolitan railways, and the consequent 
 demolition of old and creation of new streets. At- present the great 
 centralization of our street traffic, is directed towards Lothbury on the 
 one hand, and Westminster on the other, thus throwing on the leading 
 thoroughfares of the metropolis an amount of- traffic so enormous as to 
 become unmanageable by the ordinary means of horses and carriages. 
 In order to remedy as far as possible this-evil two distinct measures 
 have been initiated—the one- having as its aim the superseding the 
 necessity- of sending goods or minerals from one terminal station to 
 another, while the object of the other has been to divert the passenger 
 traffic to the City from the already over-thronging thoroughfares. Six 
 lines of railway embrace the former remedial measure; while of the 
 four branches of the latter class, the Metropolitan or Underground 
 Railway is that which has attracted the principal attention of the 
 public. Whatever may be the result with reference to the bulk of the 
 heavy goods traffic of London, one thing is certain, that the lines of 
 interception have assumed great importance as passenger or “ omnibus” 
 lines, and thus increase the concentration of the passenger traffic to 
 and from the principal termini. Two stations (the Charing-cross and 
 Victoria), however, will enable the traveller to-gain his line of railway 
 without encountering the delays of traversing the crowded heart of 
 the City. The metropolitan lines of railway will, however, tend 
 rather to the increase of traffic than to the removal of the City and 
 London Bridge obstructions. As a considerable portion of this over¬ 
 crowding arises from the necessity of transporting merchandise from 
 the Docks to Bermondsey and Southwark, the only efficient remedy 
 would be to establish a communication at some point below the present 
 bridge, either by rendering the Thames Tunnel available for carriage 
 traffic, or by the erection of a new bridge from Tower Hill to Horsely- 
 down. Although to a certain extent the proposed erection would 
 influence the value of the wharf property lying between it and London 
 Bridge; yet by means of a swing bridge in the centre and lateral 
 
 * The Annual Retrospect of 'Engineering and Architecture: a Record of 
 Progress in the Sciences of Civil, Military, and Naval Construction, from. 
 January to December, 1861. By G. R. Burnell, C.E., F.G.S., F.S.A. Lock- 
 wood and Co. 
 
 opening, a clear passage would be afforded at high tides. A great 
 error has been assumed by the majority of the improvers—namely, 
 that the obstruction occurs on the bridge itself. Now this is not so • 
 the stoppages originate at those parts where the respective abutting 
 roads pour into the chief artery. Instead, therefore, of widening 
 London Bridge,-or opening that present dead lock, Southwark, the 
 only solution of the Gordian knot is to be found in the construction of 
 the suggested new bridge from the eastern side of Tower Hill. 
 
 These changes, however, have not been brought about without in¬ 
 volving the destruction of a large amount of property, and the conse¬ 
 quent removal of districts hitherto specially devoted to the residences 
 of the poor. All sudden, and violent changes necessarily involve tem¬ 
 porary inconvenience. Still, however, there can be little doubt that 
 the poor will eventually be the gainers by their removal, and the con¬ 
 sequent sanitary improvements in their condition. 
 
 A fierce battle has been fought in connexion with the introduction 
 of Mr. Train’s American tramways into London. Without desiring, 
 to reopen this qucestio vexata, there can be no doubt that the proposed 
 line of rails would constitute a serious hindrance to the carriage traffic- 
 of London. It is a matter, perhaps, of regret that these- tramways 
 should have been laid down in the suburban instead of the more central 
 districts. As a means of lightening the present enormous traffic they 
 are worse than useless, requiring special appliances and forms of roads. 
 In the crowded heart of the City they are utterly valueless, but if 
 established upon country roads of great width and little miscellaneous 
 traffic, they are likely to become valuable adjuncts to the railway system, 
 by extending its benefits to that part of the country which would not 
 warrant the construction of a permanent way for locomotives. 
 
 The subject of our railways and roads induces Mr. Burnell to make 
 some pithy observations on the oft recurrence of terrible catastrophes in 
 the shape of railway accidents which, from their number and fatality, 
 demand a more than cursory review. During the severe winter of 
 1860 and 1861, many accidents occurred on the English railways 
 arising from the great changes produced in the molecular structure of 
 the iron used in the working parts of the engines and carriages. A 
 careful examination of the year’s accidents establishes the fact that the 
 casualties of the winter season are connected with the action of natural 
 laws ; whilst those of the summer season may be attributed to defective 
 traffic arrangements. The same investigation, however, points out 
 that, in the majority of instances, the accidents in the former case were, 
 humanly speaking, nearly as much under control as in the latter. Two 
 other important principles may be deduced from the black catalogue of 
 1861. Firstly, that the great source of danger to railway trains 
 during the prevalence of frosty weather consists in maintaining the 
 same rate of travelling for express trains as during summer. Secondly, 
 that the entire mode of railway organization and administration must 
 be radically changed, and that the personal responsibility must be 
 concentrated in the traffic manager. It is for the want of this personal 
 responsibility that so many fatal accidents have occurred. No amount 
 of neglect or carelessness on the part of subordinate officials can divert 
 our attention from the defective organization of a large administration 
 working under many heads and possessing a divided responsibility. 
 The following instance shows that the French railway system “ensures 
 to the travellers it serves a security which is about double that which 
 is afforded by our own. On their great lines there is a managing di¬ 
 rector who exercises, under the control of the board of directors, supreme 
 power over the working details of the line, and is directly and person¬ 
 ally responsible for any neglect, or for any carelessness or preventible 
 accident upon the line entrusted to his care. Some years since, an 
 accident did occur upon the then Paris and Rouen line, when the 
 managing director was present, and several travellers were wounded. 
 The railway company settled the claims of the travellers for compensa¬ 
 tion, so as to prevent their appearing in court, in civil actions; but 
 then the state prosecutor interfered, and insisted upon the exercise of 
 his right to protect the persons of the citizens using the railway. The 
 consequence was that the managing director, the station-master, super¬ 
 intendent, porters, engine drivers, stokers, guards, pointsmen, and all 
 who were directly or indirectly concerned in the accident, were fined 
 and imprisoned, and although the company paid the fines, the penalty 
 of imprisonment was perforce paid in person. The lesson, however, 
 produced its effect, for the managing director remained in office for 
 about twelve or fourteen years after his release, and no other accident 
 from defective service regulations occurred during his tenure of office.” 
 This fact alone will speak for itself, and demonstrate the necessity of 
 the sole and undivided responsibility being centred in one man, and in 
 rendering him both pecuniarily and personally liable for any neglect of 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 180 
 
 duty by liis subordinates over whose- selection he presides, and who act 
 exclusively under his orders. 
 
 The recent outbreak in our Indian domains has effected a complete 
 revolution in the whole state of Indian society. Having hitherto ex¬ 
 tracted the maximum of wealth from the conquered races, our rulers 
 have at length tardily recognised the principle that the dominant race 
 is bound by the most-solemn obligation to U3e its power for the purpose 
 of advancing the moral and intellectual welfare of the subjugated race. 
 We have in fact discovered that we are bound, after having drained 
 India of her resources, to afford her the opportunity of reproducing in 
 a more enduring- form that wealth of which we have for so long a 
 period been the mere recipients. The Government of India has now 
 taken active steps to encourage the formation of public associations of 
 capitalists for the purpose of executing those works of improvement 
 formerly considered to lie within the exclusive province of the State. 
 We have consequently seen during the past year an extraordinary de¬ 
 velopment of enterprise for the construction and establishment of 
 railways,irrigation canals, and harbour works—undertakings with which 
 the future prosperity of the colony and the present advantage of the 
 mother country are alike intimately connected. Calcutta, Bombay, 
 Madras, Delhi, are in course of being connected by a series of trunk . 
 lines between the capitals of the various provinces, from which branches 
 to the most important of the local capitals are eventually to be exe- ■ 
 cuted. More than four thousand mrlesof railways have been sanctioned, 
 and of these nearly one-fourth is already opened for traffic. 
 
 The ungrammatical result of the labours of the Royal Commission 
 for the purpose of considering the plans for embanking the Thames 
 within the metropolis has been given to the world. No subject more 
 forcibly illustrates the evils of procrastination than this. When, many 
 years ago, Colonel Trench and the eminent artist, John Martin, brought 
 the subject before the attention of the world, the solution of the diffi¬ 
 culty would have been comparatively easy. Mr. Burnell justly observes 
 that “ delays almost always tend to increase of cost. They are like 
 the Sibylline books, which must be purchased when offered, or perhaps . 
 lost forever,” and every delay increases the importance of the respective 
 conflicting-interests. After all, there is nothing very original in the 
 recommendations of the Commission. The coal-tax. and wine dues are 
 to be continued, and will no doubt-be fully absorbed by the expense of 
 the northern embankment and the adjacent streets. Some idea of the 
 expense may be formed from the fact that the compensation for wharf 
 property alone will- amount to nearly a million sterling. The southern 
 embankment and other attendant contingencies appear to-be for .the . 
 moment lost sight of, the.general opinion appearing to be that “suffi¬ 
 cient unto the day is the evil thereof.” One thing, at least, is certain, 
 that the expense will he double the present estimate. 
 
 In the early part of 1861, the attention of chemists was directed to 
 the evolution of sulphuretted hydrogen gas, which, in spite of the 
 tidal movement of its waters, has of late years been so apparent in the 
 Thames. For years these noxious exhalations have been deleterious 
 to the crews and labourers residing on hoard the vessels in the docks, 
 but it,vvas not until the destruction of the sheathing of. the vessels 
 themselves that inquiry was made into the causes of it. There can be 
 little doubt that thexomparative tranquillity of the water contained in 
 the basins is so far favourable to the action of the sulphuretted hy¬ 
 drogen upon the metallic sheathing, but it is utterly erroneous to sup¬ 
 pose that this action is in operation only in the river Thames. The 
 period during which a ship is in dock forms comparatively a small 
 portion of the time during which the vessel is exposed to the action of 
 water. It is a well-known fact, that sea water, in certain parts of the 
 ocean, has a most deleterious influence upon the sheathing of ships, 
 while the incessant competition now prevailing has a deterioratory in¬ 
 fluence upon the quality of the metal supplied by the contractor. 
 Should, however, the development of iron-shipbuilding continue in the 
 same direction in which it has hitherto tended, it is not improbable that 
 the question of securing the copper bottoming of wooden vessels will 
 become a matter of secondary importance; it, however, attains to a 
 higher degree of consideration when we reflect, that in order to form an 
 accurate judgment on this subject, the experiments ought to be 
 for all scientific purposes extended to every material employed in the 
 construction of docks and harbours. The scientific.statistics.are worse 
 than valueless, unless a practical result be arrived at, as not only the 
 Thames, but every dockyard and seaport town in the.kingdom is 
 vitally interested in the result of this, investigation. 
 
 When the English engineer was derisively asked, for what purpose 
 he considered rivers to have been designed, he is reported to have re¬ 
 plied, “ To feed canals.” In the present day, however, the -extension 
 
 of railway intercommunication has entirely lost to view the numerous 
 advantages attendant upon the development of river navigation. It is, 
 therefore, worthy of notice, that the French Government is directing 
 its attention to the extension of the navigation of the tidal portion of 
 the Seine, This-is being brought about by embanking the low lands 
 between Caudebec and the embouchure of the river near Quilleboeuf. 
 The modus operand), is, by forming submersible dykes parallel to the 
 intended axis of the stream, of such a width as to allow the flood tide 
 to create by its own action a channel, in which the water can flow with 
 a uniform velocity sufficient to carry forward the alluvion. Thus, 
 between Rouen and the sea a permanent depth of thirteen feet has been 
 secured, and a regular service between London and Paris has been 
 created by means of steamers drawing six feet of water. May not the 
 French Government be more mindful of the benefits of competition than 
 we are? Mr. Burnell appositely remarks, “JFasest ab hoste,” why 
 not “ ab amicis ?” 
 
 In Holland and- France attention has been lately directed to the 
 operations of the various boring molluscs. “ It is now universally ad¬ 
 mitted, that the teredo navedis- casts its spray about the end of June, 
 and that the young worms attach themselves to such pieces of wood as 
 offer them some protection -during the early stages- of their growth. 
 Wood covered with barnacles, or pieces of timber framing, with nu¬ 
 merous joints, such as are formed by the halving of wales, cross- 
 braces, cills, &c., /are particularly exposed .to the attacks of these crea¬ 
 tures, who enter the wood as soon as their boring apparatus is suffi¬ 
 ciently developed to allow them to traverse horizontally any 
 layers of the wood that may be distasteful to them. When 
 they have once established themselves in the body of a piece 
 of timber, they bore species of vertical tubes in the direction of the 
 fibres -of the wood, whose dimensions increase in diameter as the worm 
 increases in age; but the tubes are observed never to descend much 
 below the low water mark, or to ascend above high water. (In this, it 
 may be observed, following the general law governing the extent of 
 the operations of the coral insect.) The zone of the greatest activity 
 of the teredo is, however, about mid-tide level. The tubes of the 
 teredo sometimes are-nearly half an inch in diameter, and the wood 
 they attack is soon completely riddled to such an extent as to break 
 under the action of the waves. The animals line their tubes with a 
 casing of carbonate of lime, and it is no doubt on account of the faci¬ 
 lity afforded hv the shores, which contain that ingredient, for the secre¬ 
 tion of their shelly envelope, that their numbers are usually the greatest 
 on the shores composed of the alluvial matters brought from the lime¬ 
 stone formation. The limnoria terebrans, the small worm which 
 equally with the teredo attacks wood in sea water, seems, on the other 
 hand, to affect the shores whose alluvial matters result from the disin¬ 
 tegration of silieious -rocks. The limnoria never attains the dimen¬ 
 sions of the teredo, and, indeed, it hardly ever is found of more than 
 ^ij-nd of an inch in diameter; from this circumstance it is enabled to 
 enter fissures of the wood which would not admit the young teredo, 
 and.it is far more difficult to guard against than is the latter.” 
 
 The remedial .measures, hitherto adopted against the ravages of this 
 class of what we may call pholadian animals have consisted either in 
 sheeting the substance to be protected with copper, or zinc, or else by 
 covering the whole surface of the wood with copper nails. In both 
 the cases, however, the great difficulty appears, to be to effectually 
 cover the entire exposed surface. This has led to the institution of a 
 series of experiments with creosote, and it appears to be established, 
 beyond the possibility of doubt, that by the injection and thorough 
 impregnation of timber with creosote, not only is the timber preserved 
 from the attacks of the teredo navalis, but likewise secured from that 
 decay which taxes the best engineering skill to avoid. The success, 
 however, of the operation entirely depends on the use of good materials 
 and on the withdrawal, of the sap from the wood prior to the injection 
 of the creosote. > . . 
 
 It is impossible to-close the engineering department of the work 
 before us without being irresistibly struck by the activity exhibited by 
 our Continental neighbo'pisi .--'This is more especially to he noticed in 
 France# where the Government-readily affords every assistance in its 
 power for the discussion and.development of scientific truth. In more 
 than one branch our. civil engineers have been startled into activity by 
 the silent yet rapid advances of their French brethren. 
 
 Now that the unfortunate personalities which were needlessly inter¬ 
 polated into the “ battle of/the styles” have passed away, and the 
 qucBslio vexata has-been- temporarily decided, we may with some 
 justice inquire how far the interests of art have been furthered by this 
 contest between mediaeval and classic architecture. The first impression 
 
190 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 clearly is, tliat the terms used have been applied in a contracted sense, 
 an absurd shibboleth, by which the predominant party for the time 
 being sought to overwhelm and annihilate their antagonists. 
 
 We cannot too often urge that this anxiety to reproduce the outward 
 and visible forms of antiquity is a great mistake. As has been justly 
 observed, “ Classicists and Medisevalists who dwell exclusively upon 
 arcliEeological correctness alike err in this respect, that they seek to 
 carry society backwards instead of forwards ; at the same time their 
 system is founded upon a moral untruth, for all true art must be a 
 reflex of the age in which it is produced; the literal reproduction of 
 the past is at the best merely a mechanical adoption of the ideas and 
 feelings of others who lived under very different conditions to our¬ 
 selves. The intermixture of the question of religious faith with the 
 fundamental principles of architecture must not be a subject of sur¬ 
 prise to the thoughtful reader. It is in the present day no longer a 
 question as to whether the artists of the present day are personally 
 indifferent to the faith they typify, or express the feelings of those 
 whom they represent. In so far as all truly devotional religious 
 feeling exhibits itself in the ordinary acts of common life, so will the 
 buildings of an age show forth the outward signs of a prevalent faith, 
 and the tendencies and desires of contemporary society.” The following 
 remarks upon the medievalism advocates are worthy of attention : 
 
 “ Great as were the men of those times—true, harmonious, and 
 ideal as were the arts then practised—they would but constitute an 
 anachronism if erected in our days; and even when the modern clas¬ 
 sical style is recommended for adoption, it must be understood that it 
 also must be accommodated to our usages and modes of thought. 
 Architects, it is repeated, must learn to be of their own times, and, in 
 spite of the eloquent denunciation of a medisevalist writer, they must 
 learn to exercise a discreet eclecticism based upon the study not upon 
 the reproduction of the past. The quarrels of Classics and Romantics 
 (which, under other names, are identical with those of the classical and 
 mediaeval schools of architecture) will never cease, because they spring 
 from deep-seated and irradicable passion of the human soul—-that is to 
 say, from the respect for authority and tradition on the one hand, 
 and the love of independence on the other. But these distinctive 
 principles of action may be indulged without the sacrifice of originality 
 of thought and feeling, and our efforts must be turned in a prospective 
 rather than in a retrospective direction if we desire that our age should 
 leave its impress upon the history of architectural development. The 
 copyism of Flemish town-halls and of Italian broletti to-day will be 
 found equally sterile with the copyism of Greek temples in vogue 
 twenty years since. Both styles of art were beautiful in themselves, 
 and were consistent with the age and the circumstances under which 
 they arose. ; The moderns must do as the ancients did; learn, firstly, 
 to think freely; then, if they study the technical processes of their 
 predecessors, they will in all probability eliminate a vital style of 
 their own.” 
 
 Among the leading topics of architectural on dits we may fairly 
 classify the preservation of our costly Palace at Westminster. It at 
 first strikes the observer as slightly ludicrous that the New Houses of 
 Parliament should require preservation prior to completion ; that the 
 commencements of decay should exhibit their track prior to the final 
 departure of the workmen. What a satire upon the “ living rock” of 
 the ancients, the vivo sedilla saxo. True it is, however; and we have 
 now to inaugurate a new era in architectural history—viz., that of the 
 preservation of stone. Without disparaging the many inventions 
 that the exigencies of the occasion have called forth, we do not think 
 that we shall err in calling public attention to the preparations of 
 Mr. Ransome and the silicate zopissa of Mr. Szerelney. The fol¬ 
 lowing summary will put our readers quite au fait to the respective 
 merits of the two processes. 
 
 “ Mr. Szerelney’s process is avowedly a secret; and by some incon¬ 
 ceivable influence the Government has allowed the application of this 
 secret process to a very large portion of the building. Of course it 
 is absurd to suppose at the present day secrecy can long be maintained 
 in such cases as these, and the author has taken pains to discover, at 
 least approximatively, the composition of the silicated zopissa about 
 which so much noise lias been made. The ingredients employed con¬ 
 sist almost entirely of the silicate of soda, mechanical silica, oxide of 
 zinc ground in linseed oil, having oil of tar and some size or glue, 
 and the peculiar smell said to have been perceived during the applica¬ 
 tion of the process may be thus accounted for. Now the only advan¬ 
 tage the above mixture, whether the ingredients be applied separately 
 or together, could possibly have over Kuhlman’s process would consist 
 in this—viz., that a species of protecting coat might be left upon the 
 
 surface of the stone which should allow the silicate of soda to form 
 the combination with the magnesia and the lime required to ensure its 
 permanence. Practically this combination does not seem, however, to 
 take place, and certainly the protecting coat is in many instances 
 thrown off, whilst in many other cases where it remains it sadly dis¬ 
 figures the artistic character of the stone. After a careful inspection 
 of the Houses of Parliament, the Commission, in fact, arrived at the 
 conclusion that the application of Mr. Szerelney’s process had not 
 proved ot greater service than any of the other methods of preserving 
 stone. 
 
 “ Mr. Ransome’s process for the preservation of stone consists, accord¬ 
 ing to his specification, in applying, firstly, a solution of the silicate of 
 soda to the stone, which should be carefully cleansed and in a dry state, 
 so as to ensure the penetration of the solution to as great a depth as 
 possible. When the stone has been saturated with the silicate of soda, 
 a second solution of the chloride of lime is made to follow it, and a 
 double decomposition takes place between the two solutions, by which 
 the silicate of lime is thrown down in the stone, and the chloride of 
 sodium is left free to effloresce upon the surface. 
 
 “ Practically, however, this plan is found not to succeed, the protect¬ 
 ing coating not being able to arrest the destructive chemical action 
 going on in the interior of the stone by capillary attraction.” 
 
 The question of iron versus wood for ship-building is still in process 
 of determination. The subject is so fully before the public, that any 
 comment -would be not only superfluous, but invidious. Notwith¬ 
 standing the partiality exhibited by the War Office, truth will un¬ 
 doubtedly prevail in this as in other cases. The only regret is that our 
 circumlocution offices make that article so prodigiously expensive. 
 
 Such are some of the varied contents of the handsomely printed 
 and well got-up volume before us. It is the best book of its kind that 
 we have ever seen, and we are agreeably- surprised to find frequent 
 flashes - of wit and Rumour breaking through the hard scientific crust 
 with which the body of the w’ork is necessarily Overlaid. 
 
 NEEDLEWORK, USEFUL AND ORNAMENTAL.* 
 
 Paint and paper have so far superseded the use of tapestry in the 
 adornment of public and private buildings, that we are thankful to 
 Madame Caplin for lifting the veil that has fallen over the past, and 
 affording us a glimpse of the olden times, with their gorgeous hangings 
 and other rich and rare productions of the needle. 
 
 In the lecture before us we have a popular history of “ The Needle 
 and Needlework” in all ages, commencing with the earliest times, and 
 descending through the stream of history ; we have clear and often 
 amusing descriptions of the vestments of heathen gods, the robes of 
 kings and princes, the altar-cloths of Christian churches, the vest¬ 
 ments of priests, and the various fashions, ornamental and absurd, in 
 which humanity has clothed itself since Adam and Eve made their 
 first experiments in sewing. Madame Caplin is already known to the 
 world as the author of several works on the health, beauty, and cos¬ 
 tume of her sex, which have been widely read and highly appreciated. 
 A profound study of the female frame has rendered her familiar with 
 its requirements, and hence, what she says has the stamp and fresh¬ 
 ness of original thought and practical utility. She has the rare 
 ability of clothing masculine thought in the chaste softness of feminine 
 grace; and her lecture on the needle is a combination of tact and 
 learning alike worthy of the writer and her subject. 
 
 GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 Scttlpttjee by a Paintee.— M. Wiertz, a Belgian painter well 
 known in the art circles of the Continent, has just made an essay in 
 the sister art of sculpture upon a scale that but few experienced sculp¬ 
 tors would venture to engage in. He is now exhibiting at Brussels a 
 series of models in plaster of the groups which he proposes to execute 
 in marble, and his brother artists, both sculptors and painters, speak 
 highly of the boldness and originality of the style he has adopted in 
 working out his subjects, which are of a nature to test his powers to 
 the utmost. The manipulation and general style of treatment are 
 said to combine to a greater extent than was thought possible the 
 capacities both of painting and sculpture. The three subjects selected 
 
 * Woman and her Work: the Needle, its History and Utility. A Lecture. 
 By Madame Iloxey Ann Caplin. 
 
ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 101 
 
 by the artist form a hind of continuous history. The first he calls 
 the “ Birth of the Passionsthe second, “ The Struggle”—that is to 
 say, the struggle of man with general nature; the third he calls 
 “ Light,” by which he means to express the eventual development 
 of intellect, and the origin of civilization. In the first, the contrast 
 of the forms of female beauty with the harsher, but nobler, because 
 more powerful development of the male figure, is said to be remark¬ 
 ably and exquisitely carried out. In the second subject, the muscular 
 power of man in its highest development forms a Titanic sculptural 
 group, which is said to be very noble and striking. In the last com¬ 
 position, the efforts of man are represented as devoted to higher con¬ 
 quests than those which result from mere bodily strength and manual 
 readiness. He is occupied with those achievements which are conquests 
 of the brain rather than the hand; and it is in this last group that 
 M. Wiertz appears to have put forth all his efforts. The power exerted 
 by this artist over his newly adopted material is said to be very extra¬ 
 ordinary; effects of distance and perspective being as successfully 
 expressed in these compositions as in painting. There is among the 
 sculptural decorations of St. Peter’s at Borne a colossal marble picture 
 representing the Conversion of Constantine, which is treated in a man¬ 
 ner resembling that of these marble pictures of M. Wiertz. In the 
 piece of Boman sculpture to which we allude, the principal figures, in 
 the front, are entirely detached from the ground, while those intended 
 to be slightly less prominent are in high relief; other more distant 
 groups, and a landscape, are in lower and lower reliefs, as they recede 
 and form the background. 
 
 The new Guard Boom in Windsor Castle is now completed; the 
 architecture is in strict accordance with the early English style of the 
 ancient towers. Above the officers’ rooms is a large apartment in¬ 
 tended for a museum, in which will be placed any objects of antiquity 
 counected with the Castle that may be from time to time discovered. 
 A small collection already exists, which will form a nucleus. 
 
 It is to be regrettecT that the eminent painters and sculptors who 
 have appended their names to a remonstrance against the colour of the 
 draperies in the Picture and Sculpture Galleries of the International 
 Exhibition did not make their complaint sooner. It would really be a 
 useless waste of time and means to make the required alteration at 
 this late period of the season, when the Exhibition can scarcely count 
 upon more than one little month of further existence. 
 
 At Dives, in Normandy, the celebration of a somewhat remarkable 
 anniversary has just taken place ; that of the completion of the column 
 erected to mark the spot from which the expedition of William the 
 Conqueror was seen to set sail for the subjugation of England. The 
 column occupies the highest point of some cliff-land which separates 
 Dives from the Valley of Beauzeval. Many English and French 
 archaeologists were present on the occasion, aud a tablet was uncovered 
 in the ancient church of Dives on which the names of all the chief 
 companions of the Conqueror have been engraved. 
 
 An institution of arts and trades (arts et metiers) for women is 
 being established in Paris; not with the view of inducing women to 
 enter into general rivalry with the other sex, but only to enable desti¬ 
 tute widows or orphan girls to learn some branch of art or artistic 
 industry by means of which they may obtain an independent existence. 
 The institution undertakes to ascertain the nature of the art for which 
 each subject has the greatest aptitude, and to afford the necessary 
 course of instruction; and lastly, to launch each individual in her 
 honest career, affording such occasional assistance as may be required 
 till an independent position has been secured. The project meets 
 with very powerful support; and the intentions of the institution are 
 soon likely to be in full activity. 
 
 The works of the New Louvre are progressing rapidly. The pro¬ 
 jects for lighting and decorating the fine gallery intended for the re¬ 
 ception of masterpieces of French art, from Jivonne Dubois and Jean 
 Cousin to Descamps, have been maturely considered, and are being 
 carried into execution. This gallery, which is on the principal story, 
 extends from the Pavilion Daru, and passes through the Pavilion Denon, 
 to the Pavilion Mollien. It is 450 feet long by 30 wide, and the 
 lighting is from the ceiling. The decorations of the great square salon 
 of the Pavilion Denon, which will form the centre of the gallery, are of 
 a very magnificent character. The most eminent ornamentists of the 
 day are employed upon these important works. 
 
 A pictohial drama of Geology has been recently enacted at the 
 theatre of the Circus, at Bruxelles, which M. Bolide presented to his 
 audience in a series of forty-five tableaux, which he termed the life of 
 the terrestrial globe. In the first stage a vast nebula was seen floating 
 
 in space, for M. Bohde adopts the Nebular theory. It gradually ac¬ 
 quired consistence by rotary impulsion and chemical affinities till the 
 formation of a thin pellicle took place, which was the first step towards 
 the formation of the now solid crust of the earth. The tableaux in 
 which these changes were exhibited are said to be most ingeniously 
 contrived, and to produce a wonderful and impressive effect of magni¬ 
 tude. Next came successive layers of the earthy crust in the form of 
 incandescent gneiss, porphyry, and then granites. Then the sedimentary 
 deposits—tableaux of the vast volcanic upheaviugs that disturbed the 
 regularity of the stratification. The grand pictures of the earliest 
 forms of vegetation, in which gigantic forms of foliage were exhibited 
 of strange and unusual character, are said to have produced a striking 
 effect upon M. Bolide’s audience; an effect, however, which was much 
 surpassed by the succeeding tableaux, in which the first monstrous 
 shapes of animal life were exhibited—followed by other tableaux, ex¬ 
 hibiting the destruction of monstrous races of reptile life by vast con¬ 
 vulsions, and the usurpation of their places by other forms, gradually 
 softening towards beauty and symmetry, till the earth is supposed to 
 have become fit for the abode of man. The exhibition, or performance, 
 was received with unanimous applause by a greater uumber of persons 
 than were ever previously assembled in the theatre, and who appeared 
 to watch the geological spectacle with the deepest interest. The display 
 was repeated on Thursday last with equal success. 
 
 Oue Feesco-Paintings in the New Houses of Paeliament. 
 —The rapid decay of many of the frescoes in the Houses of Parliament 
 is causing much discussion in artistic circles both at home and on the 
 Continent. To encounter such unsatisfactory results is indeed very 
 discouraging in our first attempts to restore a lost art. It is whispered 
 that in several cases corrections were made without preparing the 
 plaster afresh, milk being used as a size, to cause the new work to ad¬ 
 here. It is manifestly impossible that colour so applied could incor¬ 
 porate itself with the plaster, in the way that it should do in true 
 fresco, and equally certain that very rapid peeling would take place. 
 Decay was certain. It was only a question of time. The artistic 
 portion of our foreign visitors, who now throng the apartments of our 
 new Houses of Parliament three times a week, criticise very severely 
 not only the already unsound state of comparatively new works, but 
 complain also that the fresco-pictures occupy a far too subordinate posi¬ 
 tion in the mural decoration of the edifice. Their position is said to 
 be always either too near or too far from the eye; while their colouring 
 is utterly crushed by the glare of the painted windows, with their 
 heraldic blazonries of purple, scarlet, and orange. The over-profuse 
 gilding, too, of the architectural decorations, heightened as it is by the 
 tree introduction of positive colour, assists in crushing the frescoes in 
 the House of Lords, and leaving them in a very subordinate position. 
 To these last criticisms it is answered, that the decorations of the 
 House of Lords were devised expressly for gas-light effect, the sittings 
 of the Peers taking place chiefly at night. It is said that when this 
 vast apartment is brilliantly lighted with a direct light, and the paint¬ 
 ing of the windows made to occupy a subdued position, being only 
 lighted up from without, that the effect is nearly all that could be 
 desired. At a time when the decay of some of the frescoes in the 
 Houses of Parliament is attracting so much attention, the discovery of 
 an English fresco apparently executed in the reign of Elizabeth or 
 James I., and still in good condition, is not without interest. The 
 work is, moreover, one of some artistic merit, and should be seen by 
 all artists interested in re-establishing this lost art. It was in pulling 
 down a house in North-street, Sudbury, that the discovery of this fresco 
 took place. In stripping off the paper at the end of one of the upper 
 rooms, this picture, representing a lion hunt spiritedly composed, was 
 first brought to light. The mounted hunters are in the costume of 
 the epoch above named, and the whole is surrounded by an arabesque 
 and floral border, after the manner of Continental frescoes and tapestries 
 of the period. 
 
 The Shakspeaeian Museum at Stkatfoed-on-Avon. —Mr. 
 Halliwell makes known to the supporters of the New Place scheme, 
 that a museum will be established in the buildings about to be erected 
 on the Shakspeare estate, in which he hopes to bring together an in¬ 
 teresting collection of memorials connected with the life and works of 
 our great dramatist. The memorials will be of many kinds, such as 
 earlier editions of his poems or dramas—deeds bearing his signature— 
 objects manufactured from the celebrated mulberry-tree planted by the 
 poet himself—in short, any Shakspeariana the character of which can 
 be authenticated in a trustworthy manner. It seemed, when the pro¬ 
 ject of purchasing New Place was first announced, that it was rather a 
 mistake, for not a single wall remained of the comfortable residence 
 
192 
 
 ARCHITECTURE OF THE VICTORIAN AGE. 
 
 that the poet erected near his native Stratford, out of the honest gains 
 of his energetic career as poet and dramatist in the great metropolis. 
 Not one of the rooms remained in which he lived with the wife of his 
 choice, Anne Hathaway, who is, no doubt, the mistress to whom he 
 promises that immortality in his Sonnets which has been kept to the 
 very letter. The name itself of Anne Hathaway, it is true, is not 
 mentioned, but it may be inferred, and it will be cherished as that of 
 the beloved of Shakspeare as long as the English language is spoken 
 either in England, or America, or India, or Australia. But as no re¬ 
 mains of their dwelling existed, it seemed as though a memorial hall 
 might as well have been erected in London, at the Bankside, where 
 Shakspeare not only acted as prompter on the performance of his 
 Samlet, hut acted himself the part of the Ghost. Or, the Farm of 
 the Hathaways—where the house that Shakspeare knew so well is still 
 to some extent the same as it was in his day—might have been 
 purchased in preference to New Place, as the same pathways lead to it 
 over the Stratford fields along which the poet strolled with hie Anne, 
 immortalized by his pen, as he promised she should be. Yet, after 
 all, if Mr. Halliwall succeed in forming a museum of Shakspearian 
 relics on a site which was once Shakspeare’s freehold, earned by the 
 poetry that will live as long as our language, it is at-all events some¬ 
 thing done in a cause which ought to interest every Englishman. 
 Great care must, however, be taken not to allow of the admission of any 
 doubtful relics. The initiated have had signal warnings in the case of 
 the soi-disaut lease granted to Burbidge, Shakspeare, and Co., of the 
 Bankside Theatre, with the appended signatures, which were, dare we 
 repeat it P impudent forgeries— and the “ annotated” Samlet, the falsityr 
 of which has been so signally demonstrated. Mr. Halliwell announces 
 that the association for which he acts will purchase any Shakspeariana 
 of authentic character, and that persons having such well-authenticated 
 relics to dispose of, may address themselves to him at 6, St.. Mary’s 
 Place, West Brompton. We hope that a worthy collection may be 
 got together. Scant}' as are the remains which bear any direct refer¬ 
 ence to Shakspeare, something of much interest may yet be done in the 
 way of a Shakspearian museum ; and we trust that, as regards the 
 erection of the museum and other buildings and outbuildings, due re¬ 
 gard will be had to artistic excellence and correctness of style. 
 
 The Excavations at Pompeii. ■—A Berlin paper publishes the 
 following extract from letters received by Professor Zahu from Naples 
 and Pompeii:—“The organization of the Naples Museum is being 
 much improved. The gallery of antique frescoes is newly arranged in 
 mythological order, beginning with Jupiter. One half is already com¬ 
 pleted, and the other is about to he begun upon. In Pompeii the 
 excavations are zealously carried on under a new Piedmontese con¬ 
 tractor. The old accumulation of volcanic ashes, which had been 
 thrown round the town in the direction of the sea, is now being re¬ 
 moved, and sent by the little railway to the field outside the town 
 beyond the amphitheatre. In the latest excavations, in a house in the 
 immediate vicinity of the Casino of Signor dell’ Aquila, a beautiful 
 triclinium; with three richly decorated walls, and three fine pictures, 
 was discovered. The first of these pictures represents the building of 
 Troy by Neptune and Apollo; the seeond a drunken Hercules with 
 numerous Cupids^ who have disarmed him, and surrounded, by several 
 Fauns andJBacchantes; and in the third picture, Vulcan shows Thetis 
 the arms ofrAnollo, among them a shield, on which are represented the 
 Zodiac, Apollo, and the nine Muses. The second picture, with the 
 drunken Hercules, is said to he, as regards both drawing and colouring, 
 one of the finest ancient frescoes yet known. Next to this triclinium 
 is another chamber, the ground of the walls of which is black, with 
 embellishments in the Egyptian style and a number of small pictures. 
 On the floor at the entrance of this house is the inscription, Salve 
 Lucro. The next building is a tavern, with an inscription; and a 
 painted elephant on the outer wall as a sign.—the Elephant Inn. 
 Opposite to this is a large place of amusement, with many paintings of 
 a voluptuous character, and interesting inscriptions, and where there 
 also have been found numerous objects in gold, silver, bronze, and 
 glass.” 
 
 Sawing down Teees. —A machine has been invented by Mr. L. S. 
 Alder, of Cleona, Ind., for sawing down trees, which can easily be 
 transported from place to place, and can be readily adjusted to suit 
 different occasions. The invention consists in the arrangement of a 
 longitudinally sliding frame provided with a steam-cylinder, a feed- 
 motion, and the necessary pulley to give motion to the saw in combi¬ 
 nation with a truck running on wheels, in such a manner that the 
 frame can he readily brought to the desired locality and position, and 
 that by the action of the steam-cylinder the saw receives its desired 
 
 motion; it consists further in combining with each longitudinally 
 sliding frame a series of rotary adjustable discs, in such a manner that 
 the saw, together with the driving-pulley and feed-motion, can be-set 
 to any desired angle. 
 
 Painting Glass Transparencies. — The Scientific American 
 gives the following receipt:—Provide a small muller and a piece of 
 thick ground glass five or six inches square, to grind the colours on, 
 also a small palette-knife and a few bottles to put the colours in. For 
 a red colour get a little scarlet lake, and for a blue a little Prussian 
 blue. For green use purified verdigris ground with a quarter of its 
 hulk of gamboge ; and for brown use burnt umber, and for black burnt 
 sienna black. These colours are truly transparent. Having all these 
 colours ready, grind them in the balsam of fir mixed with half its 
 bulk of turpentine; mastic varnish will do very well, but the balsam 
 is the most beautiful. To coat the glass black round the painting, 
 
 ■ dissolve asphaltum in turpentine and mix with damp-black. When 
 - the colours are all ground they must be put in separate bottles and 
 sealed, and when they are to be used, a little bit is taken out at once 
 on a piece ot glass, just as much as is needed at once, as it Quickly 
 dries. If the colour is too thick, it must be diluted with turpentine, 
 io paint glass sliders, the subject must be designed on paper, and the 
 paper put under the glass and the glass painted above it according to 
 the design on the paper underneath. 
 
 The excavations on the Cheviot Hills have led to the discovery of 
 the very perfect remains of several huts composed of blocks of the 
 basaltic stone ol the district. They belong to a very remote period of 
 British history. Remains of beads and other glass ornaments, flint 
 arrow-heads, and broken pottery, have been recovered during the works. 
 Remains of iron slag have also been discovered, which appears to prove 
 that the smelting of iron was understood by our Celtic forefathers at 
 a far earlier period than is generally supposed. 
 
 Theatrical architecture has been busy of late. We noticed the 
 other day the erection of a new theatre of important dimensions at 
 Bath. At Paris, half the principal theatres have been recently either 
 rebuilt or restored. The Opera is the last, the new walls of which are 
 rapidly rising. And now the Germans seem to he catching this rage 
 for theatre building; and in spite of political difficulties, and a national 
 dearth of money of almost alarming character, a new Ilofburg theatre 
 is to be immediately erected at Vienna, on the site at present oocupied 
 by the Molker-bastei. 
 
 A fine bronze statue has lately been dug up at Pompeii. 
 
 A curious leaden cylinder has been found by some workmen at 
 Chester, supposed to be of Roman origin. It contained human hones, 
 burnt; was about 18 in. high, and 7 j in. diameter; it was half an inch 
 thick at the bottom ; the sides- were welded together without solder, 
 and the top closed by forcing in the sides. 
 
 Architecture arose from the combination of sculpture with con¬ 
 struction. Building may be older than sculpture, but sculpture com¬ 
 bined with building produced architecture. 
 
 NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS. . 
 
 In the execution of the Plates which form our Illustra¬ 
 tions, we hope always to have the advantage of the 
 designs of the Architects whose buildings we represent. 
 We also invite those gentlemen, in every instance, to 
 communicate both with our artists and ourselves during: 
 the progress of our drawings, and -we shall always be 
 anxious to secure their approval for every illustration on 
 its completion. 
 
 The lithographs contained in the present Part have all 
 been executed from the architect’s drawings. Their ac¬ 
 curacy may be depended on, and they will doubtless he 
 preserved and valued as faithful pictures of interesting 
 and chaste examples of the street architecture of London 
 in the Victorian age. 
 
 All communications for the Editor to be addressed to 
 the care of Darton and Hodge, Publishers, Holborn- 
 liill, E.C. 
 


 o 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
Scale of 
 
 Scale of 
 
 Scale of 
 
 ROBERT DUDLEY, DEL.ET UTH 
 
 VINCENT BROOKS,IMP 
 
 INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION, 1862. 
 
 CONST RU CT / VE DETAILS 
 
 A ELEVATION OP THE MAIN RIBS OF DOMES 
 B. SECTION AT SPRINO OF DOMES 
 
 C SECTION AT LEVEL OF GALLERY FLOOR (NAVE fcTRAN SEPT) 
 
 D SECTION AT SPRING OF NAVE ARCHES &. LEVEL OF GALLERY ROOFS 
 E SECTION OF LANTERN CROWNING "HE'DOME 
 
 F. SMALL PORTION OF SAME SHOWING OUTSIDE ELEVATION (COMPLETED) 
 
 DARTON fc HODGE.LONDON . 
 

 ROBERT DUDLEY. PEL JET iJlH 
 
 VINCENT BROOKS, IMP 
 
 INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION, 1862 
 
 DETAILS OF I NT EH I OR DECORATIONS 
 
 A ROOF, MAIN RIBS & COLUMNS OF NAVE Sc TRANSEPTS. j D SPRING OF THE LAST ARCHES OF NAVE TOWARDS THE DOMES 
 
 B COLUMN k BAND AT LEVEL OF GALLERIES E. SUPPORTS OF FLOOR OF THE PICTURE GALLERIES. 
 

 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 . 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
WESTMINSTER MEMORIAL, 
 
 Memorial of the Westminster Scholars to their late Schoolfellows 
 died m the Crimean Sc Indian Wars 
 
 who 
 

ROBERT DUDLEY, DEL ET LTTH 
 
 G G SCOTT, R.A ARCHITECT 
 
 YINCKNT BROOKS, IMP 
 
 WESTMINSTER MEMORIAL DETAILS. 
 
 A. CAPITAL OF COLUMN B.C.D CAPS OF SHAFTS AT BASE E . AT SPRING OF COLUMN FROM BASE 
 
 DARTON A ROD GE, LQND ON 
 

 I* 
 
 I' 
 
 VINCENT BROOKS,IMP 
 
 THO 6 HARRIS, ARCHITECT. 
 
 VIEW OF HOUSE & SHOP, N° 155, NEW 
 
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 WINDOWS OE 1ST TIER. E . D9 D° H. CORBEL TABLE BELOW GABLETS 
 
 SIDE CORBELS. GROUND ELOOR P. CAP OE SHAFT 2™ TIER WINDOWS. I. BALCONY RAILING TO l SI TIER WINDOWS 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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CHURCH YARD 
 
 PORTION OF PRINCIPAL GATES TO 
 
 GROUP OF WINDOW & CH1MNIES IN CENTRE 
 OF PRINCIPAL FRONT . 
 
 ROBERT DUDLEY! DEL ET 1ITH 
 
 A P HOWELL, ARCHITECT 
 
 VHTGENT BROOKS LITH 
 
 N EL W VESTRY HALL & GATEWAY TO CHURCH, 
 
 S T JAMES'S WESTMINSTER, 
 
 DET AILS 
 
 DAKTON A HODGE, LON DON 
 
PLATE 3 
 
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 DARTON Sc C? 
 

Tla.te.IV! 
 
 ELEVATION OF ARC# SPRINGERS. N° 1 . 
 
 PLAN. 
 
 PLAN OF CENTRAL WINDOW. N° 4-. 
 
 ELEVATION OF CENTRAL WINDOW. M°3. 
 
 ELEVATION OF ARCADE ON STAIRCASE. N?£. 
 
 TILE STRINGCOURSE. N? 5. 
 
 J.HChanJoer'adu Architect, Imp 1 &. Del: 
 
 ARCHITECTTRAL 
 
 DETAILS • OF TEE • BUILDING • N°. s -2ft- & • Zf> • UNION • STREET 
 
 BIRMINGHAM- 
 
 DARTON & C° LONDON 
 

OCEAN 
 
 INSURANCE COMPANY’S 
 
 OLD BROAD STREET. 
 
 OFFICES 
 
A 
 
 OCEAN INSURANCE COMPANY’S OFFICES OLD BROAD ST. 
 
 DETAILS 
 
 A. PILASTERS GROUND FLOOR | C. K.EY STONE GROUND FLOOR WINDOWS 
 
 B MAIN CORNICE i CONSOLES. I D CAPITAL FROM 3»n FLOOR WINDOWS 
 E. CORNICE Sc FESTOONS OYER DOORWAY. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
PLATE 
 
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 A.H DARI3ISHIRE, ARCHITECT 
 
 VINCENT BROOKS, IMP 
 
 DRINKING FOUNTAIN in the VICTORIA PARK 
 
 THE GIFT TO THE PUBLIC OF MISS BURDETT COUTTS 
 
 
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VIEW OF NEW 
 
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 CHEAPSIDE,( N os I07& 108) 
 
 DART ON & HOD GK. LONDON 
 
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 J T KNOWI.ES, ARCHITECT 
 
 VINCENT BROOKS. IMP 
 
 VIEW OF NEW BUILDINGS in CH E-A PSI DE ,(N 0 . 5 I07 & 108) 
 
 DET A1L5. 
 
 1 ARCADE OF GROUND FLOOR 3 MAIN CORNICE. 
 
 2 PORTION OF CORNICE O? SAME SHOWING SECTION. 4. CAPITAL OF ONE 'OF THE OUTER PIERS - GROUND 
 
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VIEW OF CROSBY HOUSE, BISHOPSCATE 
 
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CROSBY HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE 
 
 DOORWAY & LOWER WINDOWS. 
 
 BARTON & HODGK, LONDON