'XTA.A JUT LITERARY & SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTION. This Book may be kept days. ( The following are Bye-Laws of the Institution.) The time for Reading each Book is fixed by the Library Committee, and noted on the Cover; and any Member keeping the Book longer than the time specified, shall pay a Fine of Two-pence per Day for each Volume so detained. No Member shall Lend a Book out of his or her own House nor Transfer it to another Member. If a Book or set of Books be Lost, Injured or Defaced by writing or by leaves being turned down, the person to whom the same may have been issued shall immediately replace the Work with a similar or improved edition, or make such compensation as may be awarded by the Library Com- mittee. 3PRESENTED BY MiUiain yrpbprirfe Plorfe, p ife. V. w ^ itME' OF THE I4ONBON ^RCMITECTUMM SOCIETY. WITH FOUR PLATES. PUBLISHED BY ORDER. LONDON ! SOLD BY i. TAYLOR, AT THE ARCHITECTURAL LIBRARY, NO. 59, HIGH HOLBORN. 1 S 08 . Printed by Cox, Son, and Baylis, 73 , Great Queen Street, PREFACE. If the antiquity and utility of a science are proofs that it deserves the public attention, the claims of architec- ture are very strong. These alone, however, whatever value they may stamp upon it, cannot entitle it to a place among the liberal arts. In these, its pretensions must be estimated from the character of which its productions are susceptible, and from the emotions they may be capable of exciting ; and if the solemn grandeur of a Gothic cathedral produce a very different effect on the mind from the gay ele- gance of a well arranged modern drawing-room ; if the one at all dispose us to be pensive, and the other to be A chear* P ll E r A C E. 4* 11 chearful ; if, further, either the first, or any other building, be at all capable of producing such a state of mind, as to induce us to attend more readily to the precepts of morality, or to the sacred truths of religion, architecture will rank as high among the liberal as among the mechanical arts. That it, in an emi- nent degree, combines the advantages of both, is its peculiar boast. In England, architecture has been considered rather as a trade than as a science. The public buildings, in which it has had opportunity to display itself, have been comparatively few ; and it has perhaps been Imagined that, in the usual practice of house-building, the accom- plished architect has little advantage' over the mechanical builder. Yet surely, In construction and in arrangement, su- perior science must aflTord some advan- tages ; and it ought to be remembered, tliat PREFACE. ui . \ that it Is only by the union of taste and knowledge, that econoniy can produce simplicity, or expence be well directed to attain magnificence. Among the mstitutions so liberaljy established in this city, there is not one which has appeared calculated for the encouragement of architectui'e. The feeble protection afforded by the Royal Academy can hardly be deemed an ex- ception. The lectures have long cea» sed ; and medals privately distributed^ ftnd the use of a library for a few hours one day 'in the week, at a time when it is hardly possible for a student in architecture to attend, and that inter- rupted by long vacations, cannot be deemed of much value. To the Dilet- tanti Society the science must acknow- ledge great obligations, in pointing out to us the beauty of ancient art ; and the A 2 IV PREFACE. the Antiquarian Society has a similar claim upon our gratitude; but neither of them undertakes to assist us in the application of the knowledge which may be gained from their publications to modern uses ; and the few clubs which have been formed by persons in the profession, are rather to enjoy the plea- sures of good fellowship among men engaged in the same pursuit, than for the advancement of the art. Influenced by these considerations, a few gentlemen have united themselves o into a society, under the name of The London Architectural Society. They propose to improve one another, and they hope to improve the science, and have consequently adopted such rules as they thought best calculated to promote these purposes. The Essays, which the ordinary members are required to furnish, will, it PREFACE. V it Is hoped, excite a spirit of inquiry and accurate observation, and induce each author to make himself more fully master of the subject than he perhaps otherwise ever would have been. The Designs will oblige him to exert his powers in invention, and the observations which must accompany them will force him to think what he Is about, and to reject incongruous orna- ments and useless members. The dis- cussing these designs in the Society will evidently tend to fix the principles of composition, and all together will, in a degree, give to each • member the advantages of the taste and experience of the others, Observing that the delay and uncer- tainty of the publications of other Societies have frequently operated as a check to the production of useful and interesting papers, they have intro- A 3 duceci \ VI PREFACE. duced a rule in their code, for the an-, nual publication of those essays whicl^ appear to them most worthy of notice. This little volume contains a selec- tion from their first year’s labours; and if its reception should indicate the favorable judgement of the Public, it will encourage them to proceed with increased ardor; if, on the contrary, their book should not meet with a flat- tering reception, they will not be dis- heartened, but strain every nerve to produce a better next year. RULES OF THE LONDON ARCHITECTURAL SOCIETY; Instituted 1806 . I. The Society shall consist of a President, four Vice-Presidents, a Treasurer, Secretary, Members in Ordinary, and Honorary Members. II. The President and Treasurer may be elected from the members in general, but the Vice-Presidents and Se- cretary shall be chosen from the ordinary members. The above officers to be annually elected by ballot, and to serve without fee or reward. III. The ordinary members consist of those gentlemen who engage to produce designs and essays, according to Rules X and XI, and to these shall the whole property of the Society, as vested in the Trustees, belong. The ho- norary members are not required to produce any such designs or essays, nor shall they be subjected to any fines for non-attendance at the Meetings of the Society. IV. All the members shall have an equal vote in every transaction of the Society, aqd equal right to the present use of its property. A 4 V. The via RULES OF THE V. The Subscription demanded from every memt>er shall be Two Guineas annually, to be paid in advance at the last meeting of the preceding session. VI. No member shall have the right of voting, or the use of the Society’s property, who has neglected his sub- scription according to the preceding rule ; and if any member shall neglect to pay his annual subscription for two years after it has become due, he shall be liable to ejection from the Society. VII. The Meetings of the Society shall be held once a fortnight, on Friday evening, at half past seven o’clock precisely, from the last Friday in October to the first Friday of meeting in May, inclusive; at all which meet- ings the President, or one of the Vice-Presidents, or in case of their absence any member appointed by the gen- tlemen present, shall take the chair, regulate the business of the evening, and read the communications. The Secretary also, or, he not being present, a member appoin- ted in his place, shall read the minutes of the preceding meeting, and then note the members present. He shall afterwards present communications, and take minutes of the present meeting, with the fines incurred and receive ed. Other business transacted at tfie Society’s meetings will be to discuss the designs, observations, and essays before it ; in which all persons present may take a part, VIII. Every ordinary member who shall be absent on two successive nights of meeting at the time of noting the members present, shall incur a fine of five shillings, and also five shillings for every additional night of absence, unless prevented by illness, or a distance of more than ten miles from the place of meeting. IX. Any SOCIETY. IX IX. Any day of meeting, or 303^^ other day during the session, may be appointed and declared as a special day for the consideration of extraordinary or important matter, upon a requisition signed b}’ four members, and made to the President or one of the Vice-Presidents ; and notice of such special meetings shall be sent by the Secre- tary to each member ; the requisition, during the interval, being placed in a conspicuous part of the Society’s room. X. Every ordinary member shall produce annually, according to a rotation and time agreed on, an Architec- tural Design never before in any way made public, consisting of at least one plan, elevation, and section, and accompanied Avith observations critical and explanatory, (without which no design can be accepted,) under the forfeiture of two guineas, XI. Every ordinary member shall also produce annu- all}’, in the agreed order, an Essay on some subject connected with civil architecture, or forfeit half-a-:guin^. XII. The Designs and Essays delivered shall remain, the property of the Society ; who shall publish annually a selection of such Essays as a committee, appointed for that purpose, shall think deserving of public notice. The author of each Essay inserted shall be presented with two copies of the volume, and every other member shall be entitled to purchase a set of the publication at prime cost. The same rule shall be observed if the Society publish an}’' selection of the Designs. XIII. All fines incurred shall be demanded by the Secretary at the first opportunity ; and any member neglecting or refusing to pay his fines on demand shall be subject to the first, and if he neglects or refuses to pay . them X RULES OF THE them during two years, to the second of the penalties mentioned in Rule VI. XIV. All the subscriptions, fines, and other receipts shall be paid to the Treasurer, who shall keep accounts of the same, and make all the disbursements required for the use of the Society. The Treasurer shall attend at the last meeting of each session, and produce receipts for all sums above two pounds, together with his accounts, which shall on that day be finally adjusted and closed, the ba- lance in hand (if anj') carried forward to the account of the next session ; and the current accounts, being audited and passed, shall be signed by the President, Secretary, and at least three members. The Treasurer shall not pay any sum above ten pounds without an order of the Society signed by the President, or a Vice-President, and three members. XV. The funds of the Society shall be appropriated to defraying the necessary expenses of meeting, to the purchase of books, prints, articles of furniture, the pub- lication of the Essays, and to such other purposes as the Society may judge proper. XVI. A committee of the ordinary members shall be annually elected to direct the expenditure of the Society. XVII. On the last night of every session no design shall be exhibited, or Essay read ; but, the accounts of the year being closed, the Society shall proceed to elect all the officers for the succeeding session. The elections to be performed by ballot, each member delivering his list, folded up, to the President, Vice-President, or such other person as may be in the chair j w'ho shall appoint three SOCIETY. three scrutineers to exan^ine the list and ^eclare the officers elected. XVIII. Every candidate for admisiijion into the Socie- ty shall be proposed and recommended by two meipbers, who shall deliver to the Secretary a paper, specifying the name, place of abode, and addition of the person recom- mended. This paper being read, shall be suspended la the Society’s rpom^ and at the second meeting after that at which the proposal is made the candidate shall be balloted for ; and if three^fourths of the merpbers voting ballot in his favour, he shall be deemed a member of the Society, upon payment of the subscription, together with whatever entrance-money it may be thought proper at some future period of the Society to demand, and sub- scribing the book pf Rules and Orders, XIX. Any member may be expelled from the Society, sufficient cause having been assigned, and a motion for that purpose made and seconded, which shall be entered on the minutesj a notice of it suspended in the Society’s room, and a copy sent to the objectionable member. The motion shall be agttin proposed at the second meeting afterwards, and then put to the vote ; and if threerfourths of the members present and voting determine in favour of the motion, it shall be carried in the affirmative, and the person who is the object of it shall cease to be a member of the Society. XX. Any member shall be at liberty to withdraw from the Society, upon signifying his intention in writing to the Secretary. XXI. No proposition shal| be fnade for altering or repealing RULES, &c. :di repealing any Rule or Order of the Society until the same shall have been in force at least three months. XXII. No new rule shall be made, nor shall any old one be altered or repealed, without the concurrence of two-thirds of the members present and voting at a meet- ing subsequent to that at which such new rule, alteration, or repeal was proposed ; and such new rule, alteration, or repeal, must be confirmed at a future meet- ing by a majority likewise consisting of at least two- thirds : after such confirmation it shall be considered as a rule and order of the Society. XXIII. Any proposition for the above purposes, after having been rejected, shall not be renewed until the expiration of three months from the time of such rejection. XXIV. In all dubious cases the person in the chair shall have a casting vote. XXV . Every member shall be allowed to introduce one stranger to any meeting of the Society, except the last in each session and all special meetings, on giving his name to the Secretary. XXVI. Any member losing or injuring any of the Society’s property shall be bound to make good the damage. XXVII. The whole of the Society’s property and effects, of what kind soever, shall be vested in four Trus>* tees: and whenever their number shall be reduced, an extraordinary general meeting shall be held for the pur-^ pose of filling it up. LIST OF THE M IB M B IB R S OF THE LONDON ARCHITECTURAL SOCIETY. \ Mr, Aikin Bartlet Buildings, Hollorn. Mr. Ashpitel Throgmorton Street. Mr. S. Beazley Dule Street, Westminster, Mr. Billing Reading, Berkshire. Mr. Birkhead Robert Street, Adelphi. Mr. Bubb Francis Street, Tottenham Court Road, Mr. Busby Queen Ann Street West, Secretary. Mr. Good Strand. Mr. J. Elmes College Hill, Vice President. Mr. H. Elmes College Hill, Mr. Lowry Titchjield Street. Mr. Peacock Finsbury Square. Mr. Perry Lombard Street. Mr. Savage Throgmorton Street, Vice President. Mr. Schroder College Hill, Treasurer. Mr. C. Smith Upper Titchfield Street. Mr. G. Smith Doctors' Commons. Mr. J. Taylor High Holhorn. Mr. Wallen Well-Close Square. Mr. J. Woods, Jun . . , . George Yard, Lombard Street, President. CONTENTS. Pasre O On Modern Architecture, by Edmund Aikin I On the Rise and Progress of Gothic Architecture, by Sumuel Beazleyj jun. 21 On the Situations and Accompaniments of Villas, by Joseph Woods, jun. * 97 On Dilapidations^ by Joseph Woods, jun .*125 AN ESSAY 0 ?» MODEMN AMCHITECTUME, By EDMUND AIKIN ^ PART THE FIRSTS Read October 3, 1806. The subject proposed for consideration In the following Essay, is Modern Architecture, at that style of building, which founded on the imitation of the remains of Roman antiquity, took its rise with the revival of literature and the fine arts in the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- turies ; and gradually, but finally, prevailing Over the Gothic style, has for a considerable period been established throughout the countries of Europe. To compare ancient with modern architecture, to examine how far the latter has been successful in its imitation, and what are its characteristic defects, appears to me an interest- ing subject, and one which has not engaged the attention which it merits. £ The 2 E. AIKIN, ON The comparison of the different styles will render it necessary to take somewhat of a his- torical view of architecture, to analyse its prin- ciples, and trace the change which it has under- gone. I have no pretensions to assume the tone of a professor before the present audience ; nor do I wish to give a formal detail of facts familiarly known to those I address, but I must claim their indulgence in attending to that rapid glance which will be necessary to render intelligible the subsequent critical ob- servations. ' In considering the buildings of antiquity, and particularly of Greece, the first circum- stance that strikes us is their extreme simplicity and even uniformity. The temples af Greece were invariably quadrilateral buildings, differing only in size, and in the disposition of the por- ticos ; which either ornamented the front alone, or surrounded every side with their beautiful and shady avenue. The system of Grecian architecture is founded on the simple principles of wooden construction ; a quadrangular area is enclosed with trunks of trees, placed perpendicularly, with regular intervals; these support lintels, upon which rest the beams of the ceiling, and an MODERN ARCHITECTURE. S an inclined roof covers the whole. Such was the model when, touched by the hand of taste, the post and lintel were transmuted into the column and entabalature, and the wooden hut into the temple. It appears probable that the earliest Greek temples were really of wood, since so many of them were consumed during the invasion of Xerxes; and that large and magnificent edi- fices were sometimes composed principally of this material, is rendered evident by the ex- ample of the temple of Jerusalem, which was surrounded with columns of cedar. But build- ers soon adopted the more noble and durable material of stone ; and though the general sys- tem of architecture was already established, its forms received some modifications, by being thus, as it were, translated into a new lan- guage. A wooden lintel, from its fibrous texture, possessing considerable tenacity and strength in proportion to its weight, it was practicable to form very wide intercolumniations ; thus, we are told by Vitruvius, that the antient Tuscan temples were constructed with wooden archi- traves. Stone, on the other hand, of a granular composition, and of great specific gravity, B 2 would 4 E. AIKIN, ON would break by its own weight, in a bearing where a timber beam would be perfectly secure^ When therefore porticos were erected of stone, it was necessary, in order to ensure solidity, to contract the distance between the columns to very narrow limits, A wooden edifice, never secure from the injuries of accident or violence, presented no motive for any great solidity in its construction. But in stone it is possible, as the energetic industry of the ancient Egyptians has demonstrated, to defy the injuries of time, and almost the violences of rapine. The architect who builds in stone may build for eternity ; and this idea will give a motive for that grand and massy solidity so essential to the sublime of ar- chitecture. These circumstances led to the perfection of the Grecian style; the original model secured simplicity of form and construe^ tion, while a superior material preserved it from the meagreness attendant on wooden building. Thus arose the Doric, or as it might be emphatically called, the Grecian order, the first-born of architecture, a composition which bears the authentic and characteristic marks of its legitimate origin in wooden construction, transferred to stone. -r>nf/^niplating a capital example of this order. MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 5 order, as for instance, the Parthenon of Athens, how is our admiration excited at this noblest, as well as earliest, invention of the building art ! What robust solidity in the column ! What massy grandeur in the entablature ! What har- mony in its simplicity, not destitute of orna- ment, but possessing that ornament alone with which taste dignifies and refines the concep- tions of vigorous genius : no foliage adds a vain and meretricious decoration, but the freize bears the achievements of heroes; while every part, consistent in itself, and bearing a just re lation to every other member, contributes to diat harmonious effect which maintains the power of first impressions, and excites increasing admiration in the intelligent* observer. So in the immortal statue of Glycon, the form of heroic vigour is crowned with beauty, dignity, and grace. Other orders have elegance, have magnificence, but sublimity is the characteristic of the Doric alone. Fluting the shafts of columns is a practice never omitted in any great and finished Grecian work ; it therefore seems probable, that it had some relation to the original type, perhaps the furrowed trunk might suggest the idea; it is |?Gwever, a beautiful ornament which is applied B 3 with 6 E. AIKIN, ON with equal happiness to break the otherwise heavy mass of a Doric shaft, or in the other orders, to obviate an inconsistent plainness. The invention of the Ionic and Corinthian orders, enlarged the bounds of architectural composition, and completed its powers of ex- pression. The Romans borrowed their architecture from Greece, but practised it with some pe- culiarities of manner and taste. In reviewing the most favourable period, and the best exam- ples of Roman architecture, we find in addition to the square plans of the Greeks, circular tem- ples, crowned with domes. The Corinthian was the favourite order at Rome, and as far as existing examples enable us to judge, the only order wtU understood and happily executed. Thus practising the art as imitators, and further removed from the original type, with less se- verity of taste than the Greeks, the Romans formed a style of magnificence, which always possessed grandeur, and in their best works, was combined with taste and simplicity. In considering the architecture of the pe- riod under contemplation, one circumstance remarkably attracts attention ; that while such is the variety of general and particular propor-f tions MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 7 tions of the forms of mouldings and members, that it is impossible to name any two examples of an order which agree in all respects, so that it is evident that the fancy of each artist directed these particulars : this exuberant fancy was so well restrained within reasonable limits, that the whole collection of columns may be resolved into three characteristic orders. Having three expressions, the strong, the elegant, and the rich, they knew that this was all that architec- ture could say distinctly, and any intermediate shade would but weaken and confuse her lan- guage. The character of the three orders be- ing firmly established, and clearly marked by strong and general features, the details were ordered by the taste of each practitioner, and in those happy times taste was the birthright of almost every artist. Of what nature were the systems of archi- tecture of the Greeks, is a question which na- turally presses on our curiosity when we hear of the written works of a long list of architects, whose names alone survive in the works of . Vitruvius. The authority of the last-mentioned author I am not inclined to rank very high, as his precepts are in general contradicted by extant remains ; we may how^ever conclude, B 4 from 8 E. AIKIN, ON from his manner of teaching the art, tliat the ancients proceeded on very different principle^ in the execution of the orders from the moderns. Thus Vitruvivis directs us to vary the proportion of the members according to the magnitude, situation, purpose, and other circumstances of the building ; while modern authors offer no rules of that kind, but prescribe a certain fi^^ed modulation of tlie parts of each order, to be used in all edifices, however circumstanced, each author recommending such as his peculiar stu- dies have occasioned to make a favourable im- pression on his mind. The columns of areo- style temples, says Vitruvius, arc eight diameters in height ; those of a diastyle Intercolumnlation,, eight and a half ; those of systyle, nine and a half; of pycnostyle, ten ; and of eustyle, eight and a half ; and these he directs without any modification for the different orders, though in a subsequent part of the work, each order has its particular proportions assigned. That the ancients were also guided by minute optical considerations, is rendered probable by another, passage respecting the diminution of columns, which is directed to be varied according to their altitude; thus, in a column of fifteen feet high, the dianaeter at the bottom is to be divided into MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 9 ax parts, and five given to the diameter at the top; if the column is from forty to fifty feet in height, the bottom diameter is to be divided into eight parts, and seven given to the top. Several intermediate proportions are mentioned, and if it is still higher, the same principle is to be ob- served. The reason assigned for this is, that as a greater height causes the column to appear more diminished, this appearance is to be cor- rected by an additional thickness, beauty being tlie province of the eye, which if not satisfied by the due proportion and augmentation of the members correcting apparent deficiencies with proper additions, the aspect will appear coarse and displeasing. The columns at the angles of the porticos ai*e also directed to be made one-filtieth part of a diameter thicker than the others, because they being more surrounded by the air, will appear slenderer, and the deficiencies of the sight must be rectified by the judgment. This last practice is confirmed by the example of the temple of Minerva at Athens. In another part, Vitruvius gives an extraordinary direction, for which it is not easy to conceive a reason; that the columns of the side porticos of a temple should be so placed, that the inner line of the shaft may be perpen- 10 E. AIKIN, ON perpendicular, thus leaving all the diminution on the outside. This is observed in the temple of Vesta at Tivoli, and perhaps in no other antique example. In contemplating the progress of Roman building, we shall find the introduction of arches operating an essential change in the forms and principles of architecture. This was the noblest improvement in the art of construction, an in- vention which enables man to bridle the mighty river, to raise in the skies the selfi-balanced pile, and cover with the pensile vault the vast area of a temple of all the Gods, But it may be doubted whether the arch, though enlarging the powers qf construction, has not, in fact, been injurious to architecture, considered as a fine art. Grecian architecture, as it has been before observed, is founded on the forms and proceed-? ings of wooden construction, whence it acquired that inestimable simplicity which satisfies the judgment, and attracts with increasing admira-» tion the eye of taste. The arch, on the other hand, may be said to be the natural style of stone building, and thus this invention intro- duced a new and inconsistent principle of imi- tation, causing a confusion of ideas both ir\ system and practice. Some MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 11 Some of the Roman buildings which ex- hibit marks of the deterioration of taste alluded to, are the following : Vespasian’s Temple of Peace, where a vault of groined arches, a figure in itself ugly and ignoble, is supported at the springing of each groin by a single Corinthian column, a support as meagre and inadequate in consideration of the vault, as the application of it is inconsistent. In the Theatre of Marcellus, and the Coliseum, we find several stories of arcades, while the intermediate piers are orna- mented with engaged columns ; thus the order, instead of forming an essential part of the con- struction, is degraded to an idle and ostentatious ornament. The Coliseum, though imposing from its mass, and general simplicity of form, is very deficient in detail, and the Theatre of Marcellus, though erected in the Augustan age, exhibits an example of the Doric order entirely deprived of its characteristic grandeur. The triumphal arches rather belong to sculpture than architecture, and are therefore scarcely amena- ble to the rules of the latter art, otherwise they would be liable to similar objections. Together with the other fine arts, though not exactly with equal steps, architecture de- clined in the Roman empire ; while the prin- ciples 12 E. AIKIN^ ON eiples of the art were neglected or forgotten, the exeeution progressively barbarized. The vast palace of Dioclesian at Spalatro, shews the se- nility of architecture ; disproportionate interco- lumniations; pediments, of which the horizontal cornices are suppressed ; arches springing im- mediately from columns; fantastic corbels, which in defiance of the rules of solidity, sup- port columns ; — in these abuses we trace the final degradation of Grecian architecture. From this time commences the age of spoliation ; impudent compilers of fragments, the barbarous builders of that period have fyit perpetuated their own ignominy. Constantine was the first of these depredators; he ruined the Arch of Trajan, to decorate his own with its inappropriate ornaments, and erected his Basilicas with columns from the Mausoleum of Adrian. In this confusion of ideas and practice, we may observe a certain characteristic style which marks the age. The builders, deficient in skill, adopted a certain hasty and compendious mode of construction, which influenced the forms of architecture ; rejecting architraves, which re- quiring large and unwieldy masses of stone, were beyond their power and ability to manage. MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 13 they substituted arches, which springing fronfi the columns, supported the superstructure. The ornamental parts, being generally either wholly or in part taken from preceding edifices, presented great incongruities of execution, and disgraced the rude workmanship of those ages. Taste in decoration and execution, was a quality wholly wanting, but yet, whether it were the example of antient edifices, the want of fancy, or real judgment, the plans and general forms preserved somewhat of a grand and venerable simplicity, I wish not to trace the deteriorating pro- gress of architecture in the lower ages, and how it sunk into that corrupt -and degraded style, which under various names, as II Gottico Te- desco in Italy, and the Saxon and Norman in our own country, prevailed with various changes throughout Europe. This manner is undoubt- edly the worst of all architectures; heavy in construction, and abandoned to the clumsiest caprices of the mason in ornament. The pillar, the semlvircular arch, tlie plain, or the plain groined vault, are its elements. The style of pointed arches, or that which is called Gothic architecture, succeeded. This term, though originally absurd and injurious, has u k AIKIN, ON has been so long confirmed by usage, that it will be convenient to retain it, especially as no unexceptionable substitute has been offered. The origin of the Gothic style of archi- tecture is obscure, and on this head I shall not pretend to offer an opinion ; but what it is in its perfection, what are its principles, its forms, its characteristics, are inquiries which will de- mand attention. What callous imagination has entered an ancient cathedral without being awe-struck with the magic of its construction, and the grand original effect of its harmonious design ? Gothic architecture, while it is the oppo- site, is the not unworthy rival of the Grecian style : the arch and vault are the elements of its construction, pyramidal forms are its elements of composition. The Gothic mode of construction is an ingenious compendium of building, economical in materials and labour. Rejecting heavy cor- nices, architraves, and lintels of all kinds, the builders had seldom occasion to use stones larger than a man might carry on his back, up a lad- der, from scaffold to scaffold, though they had pullies and spoked wheels on occasion. Thus they were readily enabled to raise up their works MODERN ARCHITECTURE. Works to an extraordinary height, in which particular they appear to have placed great pride and emulation. Hence the lofty towers and spires ; ambitious ornaments that tyrannise over the body of the building, and claim atten- tion at the expense of those useful parts, to which they ought, but disdain to be subordi- nate. The churches were arched over with groin- ed vaulting, which threw the weight on the springing points, instead of distributing the pres- sure equally along the walls as is the case with a plain vault or ceiling ; the points of pressure from the vaults were opposed by buttresses, and the intermediate spaces of the wall were thin, and occupied with windows. The vaulting was frequently ingeniously composed of a skeleton of hewn stone, and the interstices filled in with lighter materials.* The * Thus Mr. Price, in the description of Salisbury Cathedral, observes, that “ The groins and principal ribs are of Chilmark stone, but the shell, or vaulting between them, is of hewn stone and chalk mixed, on tlie top of which is laid a coat of mortar and rubble, of a consistence probably ground in a kind of mill, and poured on hot while the lime was bubbling, because by this the whole is so cemented together, as to become all of one entire substance.” 16 t. Aiicm, o'lsr The machine of a Gothic edifice, consisf^i ingso essentially of vaults and arches, required great contrivance in balancing and sustaining their pressures ; this was effected by means bold,» ingenious, but sometimes presumptuously in^ sufficient. The genius of these architects had a tincture of extravagance, which led them to sacrifice always the apparent, and too often the real solidity of their buildings, to those pictu- resque and marvellous effects which captivate the imagination. Accordingly these edifices must not expect to rival the immortal construc- tions of Greece and Rome. Ihe pendants from the vaults are among the most pleasing and innocent of the plays of ingenious construction in the . Gothic style ; but the attempt to substitute weight to butment, generally observed in the middle aisles pillars of cathedrals, is a serious defect, which threateiis the ruin of these venerable piles. On this ac- count Sir Christopher Wren observes, that almost all the cathedrals of the Gothic form, are weak and defective in the poise of the aisles; for while the arches of the nave are balanced and sustained by the flying buttresses, those of the side aisles, though firmly supported on one side by the external wall with its buttresses, have on MODERN ARCHITECTURE. ^7 on the other side no other hutment than the pillars themselves, which, as they are usually proportioned, if they stood alone could not re- sist the spreading of the aisles one minute. True indeed, the great load above of the walls, should seem to confine the pillars in their per- pendicular station, so that there should be no heed of butment internally ; but experience has shewn the contrary ; and there is scarce any Gothic cathedral in which the pillars are not bent inwards by the weight of the vaulting of the aisles. Hence it appears, that the method pursued in erecting these buildings was, to insert the springing stones as the work advanced, but to leave the vaults to be turned after the walls were carried up to their full height, and the whole roofed in. The pointed arch has several advantages in construction over arches formed by one seg- ment of a circle ; it will rise with less centering, require slighter voussoirs, and less butment. The Gothic architects seem to have perpetually cal- culated the minimum of necessary resistance and solidity, and they displayed considerable skill in aggravating the appearance of boldness by the choice of materials ; we have already c seen 18 E. AIKIN, ON seen the light composition of their vaults, and on the other hand, they frequently used Purbec marble, a very bard and strong stone, for the slender shafts which had to support great weights. The roofs of Gothic building are very high pitched ; a form more of choice than ne- cessity, as they are generally covered with lead. These roofs are therefore faulty, in burdening the walls with an unnecessary load of lead and timber, and they are also defective in construc- tion, by the omission of tye beams to counter- act their tendency to spread and thrust out the walls. Gothic cathedrals are of remarkable height and length in proportion to their width. The builders delighted to elevate and surprise the mind by extraordinary effects of hardy construc- tion and eccentric design; they knew the ef- fects of perspective, and the powers of contrast in altering apparent magnitudes ; height and length were their elements of grandeur, to which the dimension of breadth was sacri- liced. By this departure from what arc generally received as regular proportions, the eye is at once struck with the full magnitude of the edifice ; while in a building of regular propor- tions. MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 19 tions, every dimension bearing its usual relation to otlier parts, there is no scale of comparison, and the mind is not at first aware of an extra- ordinary magnitude. This effect is remarked in the Basilica of St. Peter’s ; every part being colossal, the observer does not perceive the im- mense magnitude of the whole, till he compares it with some known standard. To aggravate the appearanee of height in a Gothic aisle, no cornices are admitted to break the altitude with their horizontal projec- tion, but the eye rising uninterruptedly, shoots up with the pillar, and follows its ramifications in the spreading vault. In an edifice on the Grecian or Roman construction, the windows are the mere re- quisites of convenience ; in a Gothic cathedral they become the essentials of decoration. Large openings occupy every interval between the pillars, and this immense body of light which would otherwise glare offensively, is fancifully divided by mullions, and tempered into a rich harmonizing glow by the use of stained glass. The Gothic style of building is essentially light and airy, and it only acquires its awful grandeur by real magnitude, and the religious light ” of painted windows. C 2 Thus, 20 E. AIKIN, tsfc. Thus considering the Gothic mode in a general view, we find a system of bold and in- genious construction, producing a grand, con- sistent, and admirable style of architecture ; but this praise cannot be extended to the details and ornamental parts. The arch, as it is the ele- ment of construction, is made the foundation of decoration, and repeated in various forms and proportions to a most unmeaning excess. The smallest shrine is a miniature of the facade of a cathedral, and ihe eternal repetition of mi- nute parts and frivolous ornament, rather con- fuses than enriches the effect. It must be al- lowed, that the outside of a cathedral is gene- rally inferior in beauty to the inside ; the re- verse of which is the case with a Grecian temple. The Gothic style of construction is adapted to produce a grand interior at the expense of the exterior, which frequently presents a huge pile of unconnected parts, picturesque, but not beau- tiful, a forest of buttresses, a collection of ex- travagant decorations, which spread over every part, leaves the eye no repose among the tawdry profusion. ENP OF PART I, AN ESSAY ON THt RISE AND PROGRESS OF ^rcljitetture, % SAMUEL BEAZLEY, Jun. Read December 12, 1806. — — Let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister’s pale^ And love the high embowed roof. With antique pillars massy proof. And storied windows richly dight Casting a dim religious light. As in the History of the World we may observe one empire subverted by another — civi- lization succeeded by anarchy and confusion — and barbarism gradually refined into civilization; so, in the History of Science, may we perceive the different revolutions of taste ; see one art succeeded by another; and mark the gi*adual c 3 progress 22 S. BEAZLEY, ON progress or diminution of all, according to the ever varying fancy of mankind. That species to which the thoughts of this Society are peculiarly directed, has, from the earliest periods of knowledge made one of the most prominent features in the pages of science ; and from the mathematical genius, as well as the taste and judgment required in its pursuit, we find it to have engaged the particular atten- tion of some of the greatest men in all ages, who have, by their abilities and learning, con- tributed to the advancement of an art that at once combines utility and beauty ; and their names have given it an additional lustre, which the utmost efforts of time may perhaps never be able to efface. Among the many different styles of build- ing that have by turns formed the standard of taste, and lent their aid in beautifying the cities of the earth; that, which has generally been de- nominated the Gothic, though it can neither boast the antiquity or classic celebrity of the Grecian, is yet far from appearing a contempti- ble figure in the Annals of Architecture, both as to the elegance of its construction, and from the many admirable examples to be found in various European kingdoms; particularly in several truly sublime GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 23 sublime instances in our own country, which stand as records of the taste and ingenuity of our ancestors. To pursue this style of architecture to its origin — to explain the primeval causes of its in- troduction — and to trace it through the several stages of its progressive improvement, till arriving at nearly the utmost pitch of excellence, it was at once suddenly, and almost entirely abolished, has been the object of much abler pens than mine ; nor could I, without more age and experience, ever hope to establish new opinions upon a subject, on which so many have been formed ; my principal attempt therefore has been, to glean from the several Essays I have read, those ideas which appeared the most likely to be founded in reason, and which, to- gether with some few observations on the build- ings to which they have directed my attention, I hoped, might, by collecting various facts and opinions respecting a point so much in dispute, into a small compass, render my paper of some little utility, and perhaps lead those, who are so much more capable than myself of elucidating the subject, to produce a more accurate account than has yet made its appearance ; though I must observe, that the ideas relative to the ap- c 4 plication «4 S. BEAZLEY, ON piication of the term Gothic, the origin of (he pointed arch, and several others, were deduced from observation, and both conceived and writ- ten before I had seen any works upon the sub- ject; but finding opinions, though not exactly agreeing, yet in some measure coinciding, and not meeting with others founded on sufficient authority to controvert them, I have been em- boldened to adopt them in this Essay. Some persons have attributed the introduc- tion of this style of architecture to the Spaniards, from their so often employing Moorish archi- tects ; others, to the Italians, as being merely a corruption of the Grecian and Roman, through the progress of false taste; and a few, almost without an inquiry into the justice of their de- cision, have given the barbarians, whose name it bears, the credit of its invention. That the scientific and mechanical know- ledge of the Egyptians, should have enabled them to raise those immense structures that have contributed to render their country so famous, is not to be wondered at; nor is any doubt mingled with the admiration we feel at behold- ing the chaste simplicity of the Doric order, the light elegance of the Ionic, or the exquisite luxuriance and delicate proportions of the Co- rinthian, GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 25 rlnthlan, when we consider what an eminence the Greeks had attained in every other kind of science, and particularly those so absolutely ne- cessary in architectural pursuits. But that such a people as the Goths, emerging like a wild ungovernable torrent from the darkest regions of the north, surrounded only by their own dark- ness and ignorance, intent upon nothing but slaughter and the subversion of civilized em- pire, and for some time trampling upon science in whatever form she appeared,^ should be the inventors of a style in architecture at once so beautiful as that to which their name has been given, * From the circtnnstance of Odin's emigration from Georgia on the confines of Persia, at the time when the arms of Mithri^ dates had spread terror through that part of the globe, and in which he traversed a vast tract of land, till he settled in Scandi- navia j it may perhaps be argvred, that he carried with him a knowledge of those sciences, at that time known and encouraged in the east, and of course, that the descendants of his army, who formed the principal part of those swarms of northern in- vaders, that during the middle ages deluged the world with blood, and enveloped science and literature in a cloud of darkness and obscurity, would also have inherited some portion of knowledge that might have led them to attainments that would have enabled them to have been the inventors of this style of architecture. But, if we analyse the particulars of Odin's government and re- ligion, we shall find that their principles abolished pursuits of every kind that had not a warlike tendency, and which did not. 26 S, BEAZLEY, ON given, and requiring a mechanical and mathe- matical nicety of construction, then scarcely attained by the most refined nations of the east, must appear to every mind capable of reflection utterly impossible. But, independently of this probable ignorance in the art of building any thing beyond the rude fortification that defend- ed their camp, temporarily erected, where chance or their wandering disposition had placed them, in the end, lead to the attainment of martial superiority, in preference to any fame that might accrue from the pursuit of science : “ A strange and savage faith Of mightiest power.” It is to this circumstance that the ignorance, and, indeed, the antipathy to science which the Goths, &c. ever evinced during the first ages of their appearance as conquerors, is to be attribut- ed ; and in all probability, this barbarism must have pervaded their architectural productions also, and which, with their sculp- ture, &c. cannot better be described than in Pope’s Temple of Fame. “ Of Gothic structure was the northern side, O’erwrought with ornaments of barbarous pride. “ There huge collosses rose, with trophies crown’d j And Runic characters were grav’d around. ” There sat Zamolxis with erected eyes j And Odin there in mimic trances dies. “ There on rude iron columns smear’d with blood, “ The horrid forms of Scythian heroes stood, “ Druids and Bards (their once loud harps unstrung), 'V And youths that died to be by poets sung.” GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 27 them, even the earliest specimens that can be discovered of the pointed style, were not in existence, till succeeding empires had almost swept the Goths from the face of the earth, or they had become so incorporated with other nations, that they had ceased to be considered as one themselves. But, even allowing the pri- mitive Saxons to have received their first rudi- ments of building from the Goths who settled in Germany, I do not see any reason why their title is more applicable to the succeeding ages of their improvement in the art, than the epi- thet Egyptian would be proper for the archi- tecture of Greece in aftertimes, because the Greeks received their first seeds of science from that country. It appears then most natural to suppose, from its having no direct principles of propor- tion— no decided character of ornament — but subject to every variation that the luxuriance of fancy might suggest ; and being opposed to that of the Greeks, where, from the single dimen- sion of the diameter of a column may be de- duced the proportions of the whole superstruc- ture, that this species of architecture derived its appellation from its irregularity in design, bear- ing some affinity to the wildness of the Goths ^8 S. BEAZLEY, ON as a nation : at least this appears to me its most probable derivation ; for any attempt to speak with certainty of a thing so remote, and which must depend more upon the conception of a writer, than upon any facts to which he can revert, must be considered only as an unpardon- able presumption. Having thus far spoken of what I have thought the most natural origin of its appellation, and attempted to prove, that though it bears the title of Gothic, we are not to look to that people as its founders, I shall proceed to a more accurate review of my sub- ject, as forming a distinguished style in the science of architecture. The distinctions between this and the Gre- cian style are so obvious, and so well known, that any minute investigation of its various parts, merely for the purpose of a comparative analysis of its decorations were needless ; suffice it there- fore to say, that the grand characteristic of the Gothic is the pointed arch, and the particular difference in the principles of erection, consists in its arch springing directly from the capital of the column, instead of from an horizontal ar- chitrave and entablature, and this difference, although it may not appear to have so great a degree of solidity, yet, perhaps, displays much more GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 29 more excellence in the art of construction, both as to the lightness and nicety of the works of the arch, and the strength of the pillar support- ing it. Each country appears to have a style of Gothic peculiar to itself; thus, the more nor- thern nations have been distinguished by a re- dundancy of ornament; in France it was light and simple ; while Spain presents nothing to the eye but the gigantic and the massive ; and in Italy again, contrary to all ideas of beauty and propriety, we find circular arcades and porticos, forming a mixture of the two styles, as in the cathedrals of Pisa and Orvietto. But as it has flourished, perhaps with greater success in our own country than in any other, 1 shall speak of its progress merely as being connected with it, keeping my observations completely within the bounds of what I think may be deemed English architecture ; and in this pursuit, it will be ab'^olutely necessary to enter into some detail with respect to the Saxon and Norman styles, which, as being the predecessors, are certainly in a great measure to be considered as the intro- ductions to the Gothic, and which have, by the accounts of so many professors, so often been erroneously blended with it. It so S. BEAZLEY, ON It has been contended by several authors, that the Saxons were totally ignorant with re- spect to the construction of an arch, and that all their buildings were composed of timber; these opinions have, however, been successfully refuted by the appearance of vaults under the east end of Winchester cathedral, which were erected prior to the conquest, and by another instance, though not so well known, yet still as incontrovertible, of an arch, that at present sup- ports the wall of a private house in Bristol, most likely standing on the scite of some ancient building, over which is an inscription in cha- racters that prove it to have been of Saxon origin. It is to be presumed, at least as a probable fact, that the first regular constructions, accord- ing to any rules of architecture in this country, were formed by the Romans, and that after the Saxons had been invited to repel the incursions of the Piets and Scots, and became masters of Britain, they still continued the Italian princi- ples of building, though doubtless with the in- troduction of many of the characteristics of their own country ; but they do not appear to have executed any buildings of sufficient magnitude, either to claim the attention of the Historian of GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 31 of Architecture, or to give any determinate idea of their style, till the arrival of St. Augustine, and the conversion of Ethelbert of Kent and his subjects to Christianity, enforced the necessity of buildings for the performance of its nume^ rous rites and ceremonies; when monaste- ries were erected in various parts of the king- dom ;* and the arts under such favourable auspices, would most likely have flourished with considerable success, had not these days of tem- porary peace and tranquillity been interrupted by the incessant inroads of the Danes, who in their several incursions destroyed all those buildings, which lay within the reach of their desolating hand, and the Saxons appear to have been ut- terly discouraged from the attempt of rebuilding them, till Alfred’s success against these invaders of his rights, once more reinstated his country in tranquillity, and with his return to the throne, the embers of science began to revive ; and as . the erection of churches and convents at once gratified his pious disposition and his passion for the arts, architecture seemed particularly to enjoy his more immediate patronage. During his reign therefore, and the succeeding ones of Ed red * The ruins of one at Canterbury still retains the name of St. Augustine. 52 S. BEAZLEY, ON Edred and Edwy, the dilapidations of the Danes were partly restored, and the influence of tlie monks upon Edgar, who ascended the throne immediately after, completed the work of re- storation, which the piety of Alfred had begun, and was the cause of the foundation of many new monasteries. Some architectural improve- ments also, appear first to have been introduced in his reign, particularly in the Abbey of Ram- say in Worcestershire, finished in 974 ; which from the accounts that have been preserved, seems to have been built in the form of a cross,* with two towers rising above the roof. This is most likely the earliest instance of any building upon this plan, as most of the Saxon churches were formed more according to the plans of the Basilicae of Rome, having the east end circular, and differing in the form of construction from the temples, by having the pillars placed inter- nally, instead of externally, forming a sort of portico * Many of the sacred buildings of the east, in the earliest ages of their antiquity, were erected in the form of a cross, al- though from different motives to those which influenced our architects in adopting that plan, they wishing that their buildings might appear to point to the four quarters of the earth. Among those that were conspicuous, still stands the ruins of one in the Soubah of Benares. GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 33 portico open only towards the main body of the church. The appearance of these towers producing such a grand and striking effect, they were adopted in most of the religious buildings erect- ed subsequent to this period. Their first intro- duction has been naturally enough attributed to the invention of bells, which made the addi- tion of a high raised edifice for containing them necessary; but as some of the oldest buildings in Denmark have a sort of wooden to\ver sup- ported by posts, rising considerably above the other parts of the church, I should rather suppose them to have been introduced by the Danes, who, after their invasion, left us many relicts of the architecture of their own country, which were adopted according to the conve- nience or taste of the Saxons.^ Thus, when I am speaking of the Saxon style, I shall always include the Danish innovations of the times, as forming a portion of it, whether they are to be considered as improvements or defects. The Saxons appear to have followed the D Romans * And the towers in England being at first detached from the body of the building, as they were in Denmark, in some mea- sure corroborates this opinion. 34 S. BEAZLEY, ON Romans, in the almost constant use of the semi- circular arch, of basso relievos in the circular heads of recesses and doorways, and in many other peculiarities. The solidity of their walls, entirely precluding the necessity of buttresses, they often had recourse to ranges of semicircular arches ; springing mostly from small columns, but in many instances from a corbell; and some- times profusely decorated with ornamented ar- chi-vaults, in order to relieve the extreme heavi- ness of the large plain surface of wall; and these ranges of arches were, in many instances, con- tinued one above another nearly to the top of the building, while the whole was frequently crowned with a plain battlement. The other characteristics of their style, consisted in the short thick massive column ; sometimes scarcely higher than the length of its circumference, with capitals and bases, often perfectly plain, but in many places rudely carved, in imitation of the forms of animals and the outlines of leaves; and in frequent instances ornamented with a groove or bead, encircling its circumference in a spiral direction from top to bottom; as in the south entrance to Wimboltsham Church in Norfolk, though here the columns are slender, and have a fluted capital spreading like a fan, and spring- ing GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 35 ing from a torus molding. They were also accustomed to ornament their piers in the same manner, as may be seen in the Ruins of a Cha-- pel at Orford in Suffolk. I do not mention these instances for their singularity, but as being well known, and having been thought the best examples to be produced, by others, who have written on the subject. In their first specimens, the Saxons appear to have been particularly plain in all their ar- chitectural productions, and either from their real ignorance of decoration, or the natural sim- plicity of their taste, used little or no ornament ; but, as their buildings increased in number, workmen improved in their execution ; and in some of their later instances, We find a profuse- ness of decoration that appears little analogous to the principles of their style ; particularly in the mouldings of their arches; in many of which may be seen a number of different ornaments blended together, giving the whole a richness of appearance, but certainly not agreeing with those ideas, which are attached to the beauties of simplicity, and which we are led to expect from the plainness of many other parts of their buildings. On an accurate inspection and comparison of these ornaments, we shall likewise still per- D 2 ceive S6 S. BEAZLEY, ON ceive the influence of the architecture of Rome, particularly in the embattled and triangular frettes, which scarcely differ in form from those so frequently used among the ancients : the others that appear principally worthy of notice, are The BILLITED MOLDING, composed of pieces of stone of a cylindrical form, placed at small distances from each other. The NAIL HEAD, and what is called The HATCHED MOLDING, so named from its having the appearance of a thin substance of stone notched by the stroke of an axe ; this was frequently used as a string course, and in Nor* wich Cathedral there are some columns entirely composed of it; but the ornament which ap- pears by its more general use to have been the favourite, is The CHEVERON, or ZIG-ZAG WORK, of which may be seen many specimens in dif- ferent parts of the kingdom ; particularly in an arched entrance to Peterborough Cathedral, where it is placed in every position that fancy could devise. They also frequently used grotesque heads, and animals, in different parts of their build- ings, particularly in corbells, to support the ranges of small arc lies before-mentioned, instead of columns. Their internal decorations, were nearly GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 37 nearly the same, but more thickly clustered ; indeed in several Instances, as in a range of intersecting arches at Castle Rising in Norfolk, they were unbounded in the use of their orna- ments ; though sometimes, as in this example, they were so richly disposed, that it is impossi- ble to refuse them the tribute of our admira- tion. These appear to be the principal charac- teristics of the Saxon style ; but as some may wish for a more accurate knowledge of their architecture, that they may gratify their inclina- tion by an actual inspection of its beauties and defects ; I beg leave to refer them to what is considered as the most correct specimen now in existence in this country, in the north transept of Winchester Cathedral, which, though not finished till nearly fourteen years after the con- quest, appears to have been constructed entirely upon a Saxon plan. On the accession of William the Conqueror, architecture was so far from declining in the estimation of the king and the people, that many new abbeys and castles were erected ; but the Normans appear to have differed from the Saxons, only in the magnitude of their build- ings, and the increased proportion of their va- D 3 rious 38 S. BEAZLEY, ON rlous parts ; being always distinguished by the same characteristics, and using in most instances the same ornaments, though perhaps with su- perior execution, from the circumstance of masons being brought to England from the continent, and the ease with which the Caen stone was worked on account of its softness ; a stone, to which they were attached from a na- tional partiality, and which they accordingly imported from Normandy, to use in most of their buddings in this country. We have a stone nearly resembling this, both in appearance and quality, in Surry, of which many of our early buildings were con- structed ; but from its softness it is so easily in- jured by the weather, and the moldings formed from it are so little able to resist the efforts of lime, that it was never calculated to give to posterity tliose \^'orks of our ancestors, which, by their present existence, might have deter- mined our ideas with respect to their different styles; perhaps have elucidated every difficulty; and by giving us the certainty of ocular demon- stration ; have pirecluded the necessity of so many assertions founded only on imaginary facts ; and of so many opinions guided merely by fancy, or by some accidental discovery of those GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 39 those partial remains, many of which perhaps only sliew the alteration of succeeding ages, while their original character may have been entirely obliterated. From what can be collected then, amid the obscurity that seems to envelope the early ages of architecture in this kingdom ; it appears, that the style first pursued by the Norman conquerors, when they swayed the sceptre of the arts as well as of the government, differed in its cha- racteristics very little from the Saxons ; and that in the beginning of the twelfth century, just before the last king of the Norman line ascend- ed the throne, not the least deviation from the circular to the pointed arch had taken place, although various improvements, both in con- struction and composition, had been suggested and adopted ; nor do I conceive that these styles have the least right to the appellation of what are now called Gothic ; for although they Uliiy not differ from it in that one principle of construcion, of the arch springing directly from the column, in almost every other instance, it forms totally a different species ; but the change not taking place suddenly, and the revolution in taste being gradually effected, as new ideas were presented to the minds of those among our D 4* ancestors 40 S. BEAZLEY, ON ancestors engaged in architectural pursuits, it has naturally been spoken of, merely as forming another species of the Norman style, when it ought to have been considered as the natural production of those, who by birth and residence had become Englishmen, and who, though they might have changed the style of their ar- chitecture gradually, did not do it the less com- pletely or effectually. Thus, although the pre- vailing customs of the times in which it was invented, chose to apply the epithet of Gothic, to every style that was not formed upon the classical principles of Rome and Greece, I think that the title of English architecture, is more properly applicable to that style which at present engages our attention. But as epithets are in themselves of no consequence, and do not form the principal object of my present in- vestigation, I shall still use the term which cus- tom has rendered the most familiar and intelli- gible, and by which the generality of the world recognize this species of architecture. As many different opinions have been start- ed about the origin of the pointed arch, as those I have already enumerated respecting the application of the term Gothic ; and most of theni with as little degree of certainty ; many of their GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 41 their supporters being far more indebted to their own imaginations for their conceptions, than to any scientific fact as a ground for their forma- tion. It appears also, nearly impossible to glean, even from the writings of the most able authors, any certain truth upon the subject, as the best writers entertain such a contrariety of opinions, and such a variety of ideas, that what is posi- tively asserted by some whose abilities no one can question, is sometimes directly contradicted by another, who may possess as good a title to our belief, and as good a character for taste and judgment as his opponent. Warburton ; who has mentioned the sub- ject, and whose works have been so deservedly admired ; has displayed a great deal of poetical ingenuity in his elegant comparison of the nave of a Gothic church to an avenue of trees, where the overhanging branches meeting at the top, form a sort of pointed arch, while the stems represent the clustered column, which is so pe-^ cullar a characteristic of this style. He deduces his observation from the followingargument; that, as the Goths in the early ages of their barbarism offered incense to their deities in groves, they would most naturally imitate the appearance of them as closely as possible, when the difference of 42 S. BEAZLEY, ON of climate, or a state of increased civilization, should induce them to have recourse to art for those temples, with which, till then, nature had most amply supplied them.* Upon this idea, although replete with heauty, no dependance is certainly to be placed, as it is evidently the mere creature of the imagination ; and in the history of an art in which it is absolutely neces- sary that mathematical precision should be pre^ served, we. must be careful not to suffer our judgments to be misled by the beauties of ima- gery, or the poetical elegance of a simile ; and why should we be at the trouble of forming abstract ideas on a subject ; in which simplicity and probability, with the few facts that present themselves, should be our only guides ? Again, it has been asserted by many ; that it was first brought into England from the Holy Land ; but succeeding surveys of the architecture of that country, are so far from corroborating such an assertion, that very few buildings bearing the least affinity to this style can be discovered, and of those few, no precise date can he ascertained, to * An idea of this tendency, ^t once supposes a nation scarce- ly characterized by any thing but its barbarism, to have arrived at a great state of perfection ip a science, in which even now so much improvement is require^. GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 43 to prove whether they were erected prior, or subsequent to our own. Independently of this argument against its coming from the east, I find upon a comparative chronological reference to the history of our country; that the first crusade, by which it is asserted to have been brought over, did not take place till after the year 1189, and specimens of the pointed style can be pro- duced in Britain erected as early as 1130.* The Saracenic, is also much more domical than our Gothic, and bears very little resemblance to it in its original state, either in its general character or the minutias of its composition, otherwise than as they both, in a certain degree, tend to the pyramidal form; though our later specimens, are certainly interspersed with some ornaments, that may perhaps be said to derive their origin trom eastern architecture. For my own part, I should rather suppose the idea of the pointed arch to have been pre- sented, by the accidental intersection of two se- micircles, which 1 believe will be found to give that angle which was used in our earliest in- stances; and a range of semicircular arches in- tersecting each other, at the Church of St. Cross, » At St. Gross, near Winchester. 44 S. BEAZLEY, ON Cross, where the parts between the intersections are alone perforated, seems to corroborate this opinion. These, as well as the whole of the east end of that church were constructed in 1130, and appear to be the earliest example in this country, and to have given the first idea of the style which has since been called Gothic ; . and which from this time began to be generally adopted in all the new buildings throughout the kingdom ; at first forming little variation from the Saxon and Norman, except in the point of the arch ; but by degrees attaining a much greater delicacy and more frequent use of ornament, both in the capitals of the columns and every other part of the building ; till, to- wards the end of the reign of Henry 3d, about 1272, it appears to have become completely a different style. The short massive column was changed for a cluster of small pillars (sometimes bound together by an ornamented band). To slender shafts of shapely stone. By foliag’d tracery combin’d part of the projections of the shafts contirming through the capital, formed the molded rib of the light groined arches of the nave. The GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 45 The horse-shoe and semicircular arched windows, gave place to pointed ones; containing numberless mullions and intersections, and ge- nerally glazed with a stained glass ; which, by softening the harshness of the light by its va- rious colours, gave an indescribable effect to the whole of the interior, and made it parti- cularly adapted to the performance of religious ceremonies; and these improvements continued, till beneath this newly acquired lightness and elegance, no traces remained of the cumbrous and heavy characteristics of Saxon architecture. To describe particularly every thing that forms the character of this style; to give a minute detail of its various parts ; a description of its numberless ornaments, and a progressive history of their adoption ; would be extending far beyond the limits of an Essay of this kind ; and much more accurate, as well as a greater degree of information may be gained, by an attentive inspection of one of our cathedrals, than by the perusal of volumes. Suffice it there- fore to say, that no rules being absolutely laid down, the architect was left to indulge all the luxuriance of his fancy, and to execute any whim that might enter his imagination. The style of this architecture being so peculiarly 46 S. FEAZLEY, ON peculiarly adapted to the solemnities of religion ; it was at first principally used in cathedrals, but was soon adopted in other public edifices, and till the end of the 15th century, reigned with a more extensive dominion than the most ad- mit ed of the Grecian orders.* Cities, seemed to contend which should possess the richest churches, and this ernulation gave rise to the exertion of all the architectural talents of the country ; till fancy was completely exhausted in the variety of ornaments, that, during the 13th century in particular, were used in our Gothic structures. ' Almost every cathedral was built on the plan of a cross, some having two towers at the west end, as at Westminster j and others with a tower rising from the centre at the intersection ot the nave and transepts, as at Canterbury ; and frequently with the addition of a spire, as at Salisbury ; but these towers were not joined to * Dallaway, in his English Architecture observes, that Gothic architecture may be as clearly and distinctly characterised, and divided into different orders, as the Grecian. How far this ob- servation is just, as it respects a style in which is mingled so much ornament, and in which luxuriance of fancy seems to be the only guide that was ever followed, I intend to make the sub- ject of some future Essay. GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 47 to the main body of the church till the reign of Edward 3d. The Roman Catholics requiring great space for their processions and other religious cere- monies, will in some measure account for the extreme length of the nave ; which in some ca- thedrals appears quite out of proportion. Another characteristic of the Gothic church is the great western window, which it is sup- posed was first used in the church of St. Cross ; where it is divided by simple mullions into five principal lights, the wheel above being orna- mented with trefoils; but during the reign of Edward the 1st, when the use of them was more general ; the intersections became far more com- plicated, and transoms and ramified mullions were introduced, rendering them one of the principal objects among the beauties of the build- ing ; and in many instances the complicated workmanship was so finely executed, that Thou would’st have thought some fairy’s hand ’Twixt poplars straight the ozier wand, “ In many a freakish knot had twin’d j “ Then framed a spell, when the work was done. And chang’d the willow wreaths to stone.” The cause of the first introduction of spires, which certainly forms a most beautiful part of many 48 S. BEA2LEY, ON many of our Gothic structures ; as it can be de- duced from no apparent utility that they pos- sess, has been often disputed ; but as the Egyp- tians held the form of a pyramid sacred, and used it only in their religious and sepulchral constructions ; and as spires are also pyramidal, it is but natural to suppose that they were used as a kind of symbol of the destination of the building, and adopted from the same ideas that led to their erection in Egypt they were fre- quently carried m immense heights, and a sort of emulation subsisted among the architects, who should succeed in erecting the highest ; and great ability, science, and ingenuity were displayed in their construction. Their towers were frequently entirely composed of ranges of Gothic arches, niches and recesses, placed one above the other, and the whole crowned with a sort of battlement, which at once formed an elegant finish, and gave the appearance of strength and character to the building. On * I mention Egypt as having been particularly famous for its pyramids 5 although, in tracing the history of architecture in the east, we shall find that the buildings in every country tended to the pyramidal form, which was first used as having a resemblance to a flame of fire, an element, so generally worshipped in the oriental world ; in Persia under the Mithraic devotions, and in Hindostan under the name of Surya. gothic architecture. 49 On the external sides of the cathedral, from the thinness of the walls requiring some addi- tional strength, buttresses were erected ; first, merely as an indispensable requisite to the sup- port of the building, as they resisted the pressure of the internal arches against the walls ; but the ever active genius of man soon made them conducive to the ornament, as well as, the utility of the structure ; so that in many in- stances we find them forming no inconsiderable beauty, and giving no little effect to the general character of the construction. Those in par- ticular, are worthy of adnairation, both from the additional lightness which they give to the appearance of the structure, and the superior skill required in their execution ; which, from the perpendicular part being placed at some dis- tance from the wall, have been denominated flying buttresses. In these, the building receives its support from molded ribs of stone, extending in a curved line, from the foundation and other parts of the buttresses, to the sides of the cathe- dral ; while the detached perpendicular con- struction, is ornamented with niches and figures, and frequently finished with a pinnacle or statue. There is also another kind, where the buttress is attached to the lower part of the building, but E 50 S. BEAZLEY, ON but rising considerably above the roof of the sidq aisles, molded ribs are carried trom the upper part of it, to the receding external wall of the upper elevation of the centre aisle, and by this means it contributes to the support of the highest arehesin the building. The interior of the nave, in general con* sisted of three parallel aisles ; the centre one generally risii^g considerably higher ; and ex- tending much wider than the others. The groined arches, springing from columns of an immense height, and a part of the divisions of the column, serving for the molded ribs of the arched ceiling, gave the 'roof a kind of natural and elegant connection whh its support, that added much grandeur to the general appearance of the whole. The centres of the groins at the intersection of the ribs, were frequently, even in our ear- liest specimens, ornamented with a cluster of flowers; or sometimes, with a single flower, or head; but, as the art improved, tliese ribs were made to branch out in various directions ; in- tersecting each other, and richly studded with a number of variegated ornaments ; forming a sort of tracery or embroidery, covering the sof- (ite of the arched ceiling, and the principal ribs being GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 51 being frequently gilded, the whole possessed an appearance of much richness and magnificence. 7'he ornaments that we find, were in the first instances, used in these groined arches, general- ly consisting, of a grotesque head, or one large flower, is 1 think the most conclusive argument against that idea, which derives the Gothic church completely from the origin of a grove. For, had that been the case, it is but natural to suppose, that these ribs, which doubtless were intended to form the branches of the trees, would also have resembled their imagined ori- ginal in its ornaments, as well as in its outline ; but we seldom, if ever find, that they were in the early examples, at all ornamented with fo- liage, which would certainly have been the most natural decoration, for any ceiling, in- tended to imitate the overhanging branches of an avenue of trees. These intersections of the ribs in the groined arches, gave rise to the for- mation of flatter ceilings, composed of a minute sort of tracery work, rendered still more beau- tiful, by a judicious combination, of almost every ornament which had been adopted in pre- ceding examples of Gothic architecture. These ceilings were in some instances formed of stone ; ps in Henry the Vllth’s chapel at Westminster ; e 2 and 52 s. BEAZLEY, ON and St. George’s chapel at Windsor ; and in others of wood ; as in a small chapel at Can- terbury ; but it is something remarkable, that those, which were formed of timber, and which were of course found much easier in the ex- ecution ; were never so complicated in their design, or so richly decorated, as those of stone ; a circumstance, which proves that the sculpture of the latter material, must have arrived at a great pitch of excellence ; and that there were many good artists capable of undertaking the execution of the most difficult compositions. The flowers, dropping below the surface, in the centre of the ceiling, and resembling the pen- dent pieces of rock and crystal, which we so often observe in natural grottos, had a graceful and pleasing effect; while the curved molded ribs, clustered with ornament, and descending, in a pyramidal form ; to a point, or finishing with a piece of carved work, in the angles of the apartment ; and between the arches of the windows, and forming, with its principal mold- ing, an arch over the whole side of the room ; gave a majestic appearance, that is seldom equalled in any other style of architectiire. In- deed, the more our eye traces the numerous infersections, and various ornaments that cha- racterise GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 53 l-acterlse these pendent ceilings; so much the more, is the mind led to admire the fancy and taste of the architect^ and the wonderful in- genuity of the mechanic employed in their construction. Among the many minuter orna- ments, that characterise these pendent decora- tions of the roofs ; and which also form promi- nent features, in almost every other part of the Gothic structure ; particularly, as filling the in- terstices, of the upper ramifications of windows ; and forming the heads of recesses and door- ways ; we must distinguish the quatrefoil, and trefoil ; not only, for their frequent use and elegance ; but also, as being one of those few, which I think may be derived from a Saracenic origin. The grounds upon which I have formed this opinion, are ; — that it does not appear to have been used, till some few years after the first crusade ; and that, if correctly analysed, it will be found, to be, merely the connection of three, or of four crescents, joined at the extreme point of the horn ; nor will any person think this conjecture totally without foundation ; when he considers the almost constant use of the cres- cent among the Saracens, both as a sacred sym- bol, and as an ornament in all their works of art, wheresoever it can be introduced, with the E 3 least 14 S. BEAZLEY, ON least degree of propriety! The other principal ornament, that we can, with any degree probability, trace to the same origin ; are those leaves, whose outlines, so frequently grace the capitals of columns, in many of our ancient ca- thedrals, and which upon a correct, and com- parative inspection, appear to possess a great re- semblance to the leaves of plants, that grow in Palestine and Arabia ; and, which were as na- turally adopted in those countries, for an archi- tectural ornament ; as the foliage of the acan- thus, was borrowed by Callimachus to form the beautiful capital that decorates the Corinthian column. We also find a resemblance, to the archi- tecture of these countries, in that particular species of the pointed arch, which is formed by the junction of four segments of a circle, with two of them reversed : an arch, frequently to be discovered, in drawings of the Moresque, Arabesque, and Saracenic styles of building ; and which was frequently used in our Gothic structures : particularly in the ornamental parts of the interior ; as in screens, and altar-pieces, where no weight was to be sustained ; and where a peculiar delicacy of ornament w'as re- q[uired. These GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 55 These decorations, with that general py- ramidal tendency, which, not only the outline of the structure possesses ; but which also per- vades, in the pointed windows, and doors the heads of canopies — the pinnacles — buttresses — and even soiiie of the minutest ornaments, are the only correct resemblances, between the oriental and the Gothic styles of architecture, and the principal reasons, which have ever been ad- vanced, for the idea, that derives our ancient cathedral, totally from the structures of the east. Nor, do I think that the most correct analytical comparison, will discover any other resem- blances between them, to prove that the pointed arch was adopted in England, in imitation of any, , that had been seen, during the travels of our ancestors in oriental countries. About the year 1200; when this style of architecture had made rapid steps, towards at- taining some degree of superiority over every other, that had been adopted in our country ; the sculptors and architects determined, no lon- ger to take the ornaments of their buildings, completely from the forms of animals, or the foliage ot plants ; but, rather to attempt an imitation of the human figure in their statuary. The empty niches, both of the exterior and E 4 interior. S. BEAZLEY, ON 56 interior, accordingly became tenanted by sta- tues, rather rudely executed, but possessing great chaiacter in their various attitudes, and giving considerable effect to the rest of the building. These figures, for the most part, were intended to resemble some distinguished character in Scripture ; the forms of particular abbots, monks, or nuns ; or were placed, in commemoration of the kings, or other great men, who had been the founders of, or contributors to the structure^ of which they formed a part of the decoration. Free stone was the principal material, from which they were most frequently sculptured ; but we have many examples in wood, and also of some that were cast in brass and other metals. We must also consider these statues, as another great characteristic, in which the Go- thic, differs both from the Saxon and Norman aichitecture ; as in those styles, there are no instances of sculptured figures ; unless we reckon those mezzo relievos, which we sometimes find over the doorways, in some of the original Saxon buirdings ; and which, as has before been ob- served, were, most probably, imitated from the Romans. The western ends of the cathedrals, were frequently adorned with rows ef these statues, > placed GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 57 placed in tabernacles and niches, and raised upon small octagon pedestals: in the earlier instances, indeed, they were very rudely sculp- tured, as may be seen by those cathedrals of Salisbury and Peterborough ; but in later times, great improvements were made in this valuable art, and which is very evident in the statues, subsequently placed at Wells and Lichfield, The sides of these pedestals were generally adorned with an escutcheon bearing the arms of the person, whom the statue was intended to represent, but in some instances we discover them to have been richly ornamented with Go- thic moldings, intersecting each other in trefoils, and other tracery work. But the best speci- mens of this art, among the Gothic architecture, seem to have been placed upon their tombs, in many of which, a great deal of labor and time must have been expended. These figures were generally placed in the attitude of prayer, kneel- ing upon a cushion, with their hands clasped and eyes uplifted to heaven ; but these were far inferior to many that were placed in other atti- tudes upon the tombs of distinguished charac- ters. The principal figures which they in the first instances ipiitated, being completely enve- loped 58 s. beazley, on loped in a profusion of drapery, like that of the bishops and monks, prevented very great pro- gress being made in the delineation of the hu- man limbs; and also, in some measure, pre- cluded the absolute necessity, of any knowledge in anatomy, without which, no perfection can evei be attained in sculpture. In aftertimes, however, when we find in their statues, that the outline of the human figure was more dis- tinctly marked ; some knowledge of the ana- tomical science must have been attained ; which is particularly evinced in the tomb of archbi- shop Chichely, in Canterbury cathedral, the fiist archbishop of that see ; where, there are several skeletons sculptured in high relief, and two figures, representing the archbishop, in the bulky stature, which he had contracted through his gluttony ; and also, in that state, to which he was reduced before he died.^ The artistsy in the reign of Henry Vlllth, paid particular attention to the improvement of this art, and, not only were the statues improved ; but also, every ornamental part of the building, was ren- dered * This archbishop was in the former part of his life a glutton 3 but in time repenting of his manner of living, he de^ termined to punish himself for his fault, and accordingly starved himself to death. GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 5P dered lighter, and received a higher finish from tlie hand of the sculptor. When I consider these various instances of their statuary, I can , never suppose that author totally divested of prejudice, who has chosen to denominate these mitred abbots and other venerable statues of the Gothic style “ monkeys” and to distinguish the elegant and variegated tracery of their ceilings, by the terms of “ gaudy sculpture,” and, trite and busy carvings, which glut the eye, rather than gratify and please it with any reasonable satisfaction.” Surely, a person criticising with ^uch severity, could never have troubled him- self to assimilate the sculpture that he condemns with the structure which it was intended to ornament; or had forgotten, that there should be an accordance through the whole of the building, and that the decorations, should never differ from the general style, by which the main body of the construction was characterised. Indeed, when we consider that most of their statues were sculptured from so rude and fran- gible a material as free stone, we arc sometimes surprised at the great effect which they have given to many of their works in this art ; parti- cularly in their sepulchral effigies, which will be fully proved by a reference to Gough’s Ac- curate 60 S. BEAZLEY, OfJ curate Delineation of Sepulchral MonumenfSrf Much of this effect has however been complete- ly spoiled in many of their best performances, by the absurd practice of coloring the faces and drapery of their statues, a custom, however, which I find upon a reference to a History of Ancient Sculpture, was not unusual among the artists of Greece and Rome, particularly as to the drapery.* The figures were for the most part placed in pointed niches, sometimes hollowed out m a semioctagonal form, with moldings running up the angles, which formed a tracery work in the soffite of the arch. In other places we find them seated under pyramidal canopies, or standing * The following extract from a short dissertation on the sculpture of the ancients, not only mentions the custom of co- loring the drapery, but assigns the particular color for each statue. “ The color of vestments, peculiar to certain statues, is too cu- “ rious, to be omitted. To begin with the figures of the Gods. — ^The drapery of Jupiter was red j that of Neptune is sup- “ posed by Winkelman to have been sea green. The same color also belonged to the nereids and nymphs. The mantle of Apollo was blue, or violet. Bacchus was dressed in white. Martianus Capella assigns green to Cybele. Juno’s vestments were sky blue, but she sometimes had a white veil. Pallas “ was robed in a flame colored mantle. In a painting at Her- “ culaneum, Venus is in flowing drapery of a golden yellow. Kings were arrayed in purple ■, priests in white j and con- querors sometimes in sea green.” (Encyclop. Britt J GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 61 gtandlng on pedestals on the tops of buttresses, or on other external parts of the building. There are many examples, to which the reader might be referred, where he will see them in these different situations; but I believe that Oxford affords some of the most interesting specimens, and paflaway points out this city, as the best spot in which to trace the rise, and gradual progress of sculpture in England, as possessing statues in almost every aera of architecture. Having thus attempted a slight review of those figures, which form such a characteristic decoration of many of our cathedrals and churches ; I cannot leave the subject without offering a few words in its defence, against that rigid criticism which has so severely, and in my opinion, in many instances, so unjustly con- demned it as grotesque, unnatural, and totally unfit for architectural decoration. Numberless faults have been found, and many errors undoubtedly exist, in Gothic sta- tuary, when compared, with the wonderful sculptures in porphyry and alabaster, with which those skilful and sublime artists, Phidias, Pra- xiteles, Apelles, and Lysippus, adorned the pub- lic buildings of ancient Greece. But, the fas- tidious critic, whose eye turns with disgust ii-om S. BEAZLEY, ON &2 from every thing that does not possess the clas* steal beauties and proportions of the antique ; and who supposes every figure unworthy of the least admiration, which does not, like the statue of the Olympian Deity, seem to Shake his ambrosial curls, and give the nod. The stamp of fate and sanction of the God,” should consider, before he indulges in such an illiberal and general coiidemnation of those which adorn our cathedrals; that the refined and polished sculpture of the Greeks, which certainly possesses such just claims to bisadmira-» tion ; would have been as much out of charac- ter, if placed in the rude niche of a Gothic structure ; as the half formed but expressive fi- gures of Aaron— Moses — or the Twelve Aposti.es, would have appeared ridiculous, had they obtained situations on any of the ele-? gant pedestals of ancient architecture. A critic, in his observation on the ornamental parts of a building, should only consider them relatively with the character of the building itself. Tor though beauty, in a great measure, depends upon smoothness and just proportion in a single statue ; yet in its connection and relative situa- tion in a building, where it becomes a subordi- nate GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 6S iiate .object, its principal beauty must consist, in its coincidence with the general character of the structure, in which it is placed : and I be- lieve, that no one will ever deny, that there are ideas of beauty attached to the preservation of uniformity in the character of any composition, whether of painting or architecture. But, in- dependently of the Gothic sculpture deserving some portion of our admiration from its possess- ing, and agreeing with the other characteristics of the style to which it belongs : Mr. Knight, in his Analytical Enquiry into the Principles of Taste, has allowed the grottesque to possess a beauty in itself and exemplifies his observa- tion, by a reference to those whimsical and ex- travagant paintings, called, from the subterra- neous apartments in Rome. His observations, will also apply to the grottesque in sculpture ; when he says, that, “ though fiom such com- V binations of human, animal, and vegetable forms in nature, our understandings would revolt, and we should turn from them with scorn and disgust : yet in judging of the imi- ** tative representations of them, we do not con- suit our understandings, but merely our senses ‘‘ and * Knight’s Analytical Enquiry, chap. v. sect. 20. 64 S. BEAZLEY, ON “and imaginations; and -to them they are “ pleasing and beautiful.” Again, in answer to the criticisms of Mr. Evelyn, who in his Comparisons between Ancient and Modern Ar- chitecture, observes, that “ when we meet with the greatest industry and expensive carving, “ full of frett and lamentable imagery, sparing “ neither of pains nor cost; a judicious specta- “ tor is rather distracted, or quite confounded, than touched with that admiration which re- “ suits from the true and just symmetry, regular “ proportion, union, and disposition ;” let me ask Mr. Evelyn, whether, there is not a certain degree of admiration and pleasure, attached, even to the ideas of that industry alone/ which he allows must have been exerted in the work ; and whether the man of judgment, is not as liable to be struck with the judicious application of the Gothic sculpture ; (though grottesque in its single appearance) where its connection with the relative parts of the building, and its various points produces that variety of light and shade ; which, together with the other grand charac- teristics of the style, contribute to the formation of that massive structure, and that sombre ap- pearance of our cathedrals, that irresistibly im- presses our minds with ideas of sublimity ; as he is, GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 65 h, to acknowledge the undoubted beauties wbicb arise from the true and just symmetry, and regular proportions of the statues of ancient ar* chitecture ? In my defence however, of the sculpture appertaining to that style of architecture, in the history of which I am engaged ; I am so far from attempting to detract from the beauties of Grecian statuary, in my analytical comparison of the difference of their styles ; that I would not have it thought, my intention, to give the Gothic, even any comparative excellence with the ancient sculpture, except in its relative si- tuation, as being connected with the build- ings to which it belongs. For if taken se- parately from the other characteristics of this style of architecture, the Gothic sculpture cer- tainly loses its beauty ; while the statues of an- cient Greece and Rome, still call forth as much admiration in the Gallery of the Louvre at Paris, as they ever attracted in their original situations, from which they have been ravished by the hands of so many conquerors. Thus much, for the Gothic statuary; I must now proceed to that part of my historical detail, in which we shall see Gothic architec- ture arrived at a superior pitch of excellence, to F that &. beazleY, on that which it had yet attained ; and in which state W'e may consider it the prevailing style of building throughout Europe. There are a number of incidents, which, though at their first occurrence, they may appear totally unconnected with the arts and sciences ; yet, are often found, to have a very extended influence, both in their progress and decay. It is thus, that w'e must attribute that elegant im- provement in Gothic architecture, which is known by the name of Tabernacle Work, to the death of Eleanor wife of Edward the 1st. That monarch, to shew his respectful memory of his beloved queen, caused a magnificent cross to be erected on every spot, where her body and the funeral procession halted ; and the architect and workmen, were directed to exert all their taste and ingenuity in these produc- tions. We accordingly find that this kind of decoration was invented, for the purpose of rendering the structures as variegated and ele- gant, and also as magnificent as their size would permit. Most of these crosses have since been demolished, to make room for succeeding im- provements in the places where they were erect- ed, or are so dilapidated by the injuries of time and weather, that few of those minuter beauties, to GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 67 to which I have adverted, are sufficiently dis- coverable, to give any accurate idea of the origi- nal formation of the moldings, and sculptured ornaments with which they were so profusely decorated. But those at Northampton, Ged- dington, and Waltham,* are the most perfect, which at present remain, to shew the general plan upon which they were constructed, and the principal outline of those ornaments which rendered them, so worthy of admiration. The extreme beauty of this kind of work- manship, naturally attracted the general atten- ' tion of the architects of those times ; and was soon adopted by them, in their internal decora- tions, for which it was, in all respects, so per- fectly calculated. It was particularly adapted by its richness for screens, and altar pieces, and the lesser parts of the Gothic structure, which about this period were considered, as forming the principal beauties of the interiors of our cathedrals. Elaborate canopies ; ornamented pinnacles; and octagonal niches and stalls were F 2 introduced, * Why does the Rev. Mr. Dallaway denominate these, mar- ket CROSSES, in the 30th page of his Observations on English Architecture ? — ^Are we to suppose by his giving them this title, that Edward the 1st erected them to be the designation of a market ? — ^The term monumental cross would, I thittk/^fiaVe been more appropriate. S. BEAZLEY, ON introduced, with the crocket ornnmetit stealing up the angle, till the pyramidal point was crown^ ed with a larger flower, or pine apple, while pen- dent decorations of fruits, flowers, and embla- zonry, were seen in all parts of these composi- tions; giving the whole a certain luxuriance of appearance, that has obtained for it the title of the Florid Gothic. Nor was this improve- ment in workmanship, kept totally to these les- ser decorations ; but was soon made subservient to the ornament of the groined and flat ceilings, and the soffites of the larger arches of the build- ings ; and sculptures of small imagerys were introduced in the fretted roofs of the principal aisles, and chancel. Where Elfin sculptors with fantastic clue. O’er the long roof their wild embroidery drew,” till the eye was almost wearied with following the numberless windings and intersections of the tracery, and the mind became astonished at the immense labor that must have been required in their execution. Sepulchral chapels were dedicated to the different deceased saints and monarchs, and were covered with this kind of emblazoned tracery ; and it is from this descrip- tion of sculpture that the skilful antiquarian can GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 69 can deduce the date of the construction ; a de- duction very necessary to be made in any pro- gressive delineation, or pursuit of the different aeras of Gothic architecture. There is a beautiful screen of this florid style, under the organ in Canterbury cathedral; where the divisions of the stalls, in which the statues are placed, are formed by clustered shafts; while the pyramidal canopies hang over the heads of the figures, and are divided by small uprights, crowned with lesser pinnacles. The large hollow of the cornice over the ca- nopies, is filled with shields, attached to each other by wings, in the same manner that we see cherubim painted in the divisions of windows : while above the cornice, is a repetition of F 3 smaller * Mr. Chas. Wild, in his late publication of Canterbury cathedral, has given a very beautiful view of this screen, in his plate of* the western transept. This artist, has it in anticipation, to give to the public. Views of all the celebrated Cathedrals of our Country ; delineating their various and peculiar beauties, ac- companied by an historical account. This, together with Mr. Britton’s Graphic Delineation of the Architectural Antiquities of England; will no longer permit contemporary and succeeding artists, men of taste for the fine arts in general ; and those an- tiquarians who have devoted their talents to researches in our own country ; to regret the absence of works, that will fully shew all those architectural beauties which are at present so little known. / 70 s. beazley; on smaller canopies, and tabernacle work. The statues stand upon ornamented pedestals; and in the soffite of the great arch are to be seen projecting pedestals one above the other ; on which smaller figures formerly stood, placed in such a position, as to make the soffite of each pedestal, form the canopy for the figure be- neath. This is the general style of these screens, which were used to divide the choir from the other part of the aisle. In general these in- terior decorations were carved in wainscot; (par- ticularly the stalled scats in choirs) but they were sometimes executed in a masterly manner in stone ; many of which remain to proven that the idea of their beauty is not merely to be attributed to the taste of the times in which they were erected ; but possess a just claim to the admiration of our own. For none, can deny the merit of their execution ; and there are few, I believe, (if we except those critics, who are so completely prejudiced in favor of Grecian architecture, as to be unable to admire any thing, that does not partake of that style) who will venture to assert, that those, engaged in their construction, did not also possess a great taste for, and an accurate knowledge of design ; a judicious arrangement of the various orna- ments GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 71 ments incidental to their subject; and a just dis- crimination, in combining the various beauties of which their style was susceptible. The ideas conveyed by the adoption of this complicated method of ornamenting their designs, to the architects of succeeding years ; led Gothic architecture to that climax, at which the exhausted fancy could devise nothing more to give it variety — at which the imagination of the architect, was obliged to stop and to confess that he had attained the summit of his genius. Nor could all the fertility of his inventive powers compose any thing, that was not similar to that which had already gained the admiration, and drawn forth the praise of the beholders. Thus, then, we must look to the thirteenth century as the grand epocha of Gothic luxuriance, when the combination of ornament, and profusion of decoration, had been extended over the whole of the building : and when no other ornament could be added without, in some measure, spoil- ing the grand effect of ... The tall pile Whose ancient pillars rear’d their marble heads | To bear aloft its arched and pond’rous roof. By its own weight, made steadfast and immoveable ! Looking tranquillity. F 4- Among 72 S. BEAZLEY, ON Among the principal erections in this and the succeeding centuries, we have to reckon the nave and western front of York cathedral — the whole of Litchfield cathedral — a transept of Canterbury cathedral — and our Lady’s chapel at Ely. Merton, and New College, Oxford — St. Stephen’s chapel, Westminster — together with additions and alterations to several other cathe- drals and churches. Henry the Vllth’s propen- sity to increase the architectural decorations of his country, again led to the exertion of talent in the construction of new buildings : and he indulged this propensity, in the erection of his own chapel at Westminster; King’s college at Cambridge ; and St. George’s chapel at Wind- sor ; where the greatest profusion of the orna- ments incidental to the florid Gothic is intro- duced ; nor in any succeeding reigns have these buildings been even successfully imitated, much less surpassed in point either of composi- tion or execution. The chapel, named after this monarch at Westminster, is particularly worthy of admira- tion, from the wonderful skill exhibited in its sculpture, and the general effect produced by the appearance of the whole structure ; both in the interior and exterior. The turrets and angular GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 73 angular projections of the external, are com- pletely covered with tabernacle work, which, must have been in the first instance very finely executed, though now much dilapidated ; a dilapidation tiiat has been much accelerated by the buildings that were, till lately, attached to one oi its sides, but wdiich are now, at the in- stance of the Dean and Chapter, happily taken down ; so that the whole of this superb con- struction is now laid completely open to the inspection of the artist, and it is well calculated to withstand the test of criticism.. The 'mold- ings are carved in solid stone, but most, if not all, of the interstices, appear to have been filled with lath and plaster ; a circumstance that I do not remember to have seen mentioned in any of the accounts of this building. It is supposed by some to have cost <£“14,000; by others £“20,000, enormous sums in those days; and by a nice comparative calculation of the value of labor and materials, it is determined that a similar building now, would amount to five times as much, as at the period in which this chapel was erected. In the decoration of many of these buildings, frette ornaments were often introduced, many of which are merely different dispositions 74 S. BEAZLEY, ON dispositions of the Saxon frettes,* and which by their variety also added to the beauties of the construction, Tlie, almost constant, use of stained glass, in the windows of the cathedrals, was another great addition to their beauty ; and completed that solemn effect, so necessary to be preserved in religious edifices. The venerable Bede, at- tributes the first introduction of glass for win- dows to this country, to the Abbott Benedict ; who employed foreign artificers in the year 674, to glaze the monastery of Weremouth.-f* Others, * When I mentioned the triangular frette of the Saxons, I had not met with the following etymology of the word ; and the probable origin of the ornament, in Turner’s History of the Anglo Saxons : which, as it is pleasant to derive all our decora- tions, from objects in nature, I am particularly pleased at having seen, before it is too late to insert it in this Essay. Fr^twan, is the Saxon word for adorning a building ; and fr^tew for the ornament itself. From these words, frette is naturally derived —and FRAETAN meaning the teeth of fish, so nearly resembles them, that the triangular ornament of the Saxons, most likely had its origin from the Saxon custom of stringing marine teeth. f Warton says, that the first notice of a painted window in a church occurs in a chronicle j which denotes that in the year 802, Pope Leo built a church at Rome, ‘ et fenestris ex vitro diversis coloribus conclusit atque decoravit j’ and in 856 he pro-« duces * Fenestris vero vitreis coloribus.’ GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 75 Others, again, say that we are indebted for its adoption in England, to Wilfrid, Bishop of Worcester, about the same time. At any rate, till this period, the art of making such glass was entirely unknown in Britain ; although the art of making glass vessels had been known for many years ; and in several parts of the coun- try, annulets of glass have been found ; having a narrow perforation and thick rim ; which were probably used as annulets by the Druids. The adoption of this stained glass, also appears necessary, in some measure to exclude the light, which would otherwise, from so many and such large openings, have proved too glar- ing, if they had been glazed with white glass. The first specimens were composed, merely by inserting small pieces of different colors, in the interstices of the windows ; forming a sort of mosaic work : but the art soon improved, till it arrived at that pitch of excellence, which enabled the artists to delineate many historical subjects, with a great degree of precision. The figures of kings and prelates, were represented in their painted windows, as well as in their sculptures ; and the dress of these figures, also forms a grand criterion, by which to discover the date of the building, to those, who possess a know- 76 S. BEAZLEY, ON a knowledge of the costumes of different pe- riods. There were several methods of staining this glass ; but, I believe that which was in most general use, merely stained the surface with the color ; and by this means the delineation of various subjects was more easily accomplished ; as they could with a little sand lub off one co- lor, and insert another, without much difficulty; while in that glass, where the color had pene- trated completely through the body, they were obliged to make the different tints by different pieces of inserted glass. The most ancient specimen, now existing in this country ; is supposed to be a piece of mosaic work, at Canterbury. At York there are several delineations of subjects from the Old, and New Testaments; executed during the reigns of the two first Edwards : but, the finest specimens, in England; and perhaps in Europe; are the range of large windows in the chapel of King’s College, Cambridge, finished in the beginning of the fifteenth century ; which from the size and number of the windows, as well as from the magnitude of the delineations, have a grand and striking appearance ; and are an ad- mirable example of the effect to be produced, by GOTHtC ARCHITECTURE. 7t by a judicious application of this ornament. As the windows increased in dimensions, the figures were pourtrayed as large, or larger than the life. The eastern window of St. George’s chapel at Windsor, is the finest specimen among our mo- dern attempts. For the delineation of the cartoon we are indebted to West; and for the able execution of this celebrated painter’s work, to the abilities of Thomas Jervais ; who died in 1801 , and who was much admired for the ex- quisite manner in which he finished small sub^ jects; but the enormous expense to which these works amount, prevent their being generally adopted, even in the repair of those cathedrals where the loss of them is so much to be re- gretted. Th is stained glass, in the earlier times of its introduction into England ; seems to have been held as peculiarly valuable ; for, like the Tyrean dye of the ancients we find it bearing the name of royalty, ** In her oryall — wher she was ** Closyd well with roiall glass. Fulfilled it was with ymagery.” But let us direct our attention for a few moments. 78 S, BEAZLEY, ON moments, to their mechanical principles of con- struction ; and see how far that opinion is justified, which denies the architects of these Gothic edifices, any knowledge of the powers of mechanism, and a proper application of practical mathematics. An opinion, which I believe has been formed, first, from the cir- cumstance of most of their buildings being composed of small stones, which were easily conveyed to their destined position by manual labor; and secondly, from the slight appearance of the support which they have given, in the diameter of their columns, and thinness of their walls, to edifices of such uncommon magnitude. The latter circumstance however weighs, rather against, than for the argument, which denies them this knowledge : as it required nicer prin- ciples of construction to form the vaults, and other parts of their immense roofs, which were to be supported by such slight buttments. The machine of a Gothic cathedral, consists of vaults and arches, which rendered the great- est exertion of skill necessary, to balance and sustain the different pressures. The choice of small materials was also judicious; for as the splendor of the work consisted, principally in arches and groins; the lighter the material proved ; GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 79 proved ; the more appropriate was it to be used in their fabrication. Small stones, were there- fore, certainly preferable to those larger ones, which press too heavy on the centres, and re- quire much time and labor in forming to the curvature of the vault. But, before we proceed any further, in the analysis of those principles of construction, which were adopted by the Gothic architects; let us first turn our attention to their general use of the point- ed arch, for which they have been so often blam- ed ; and by Sir Henry Wotton in particular, who condemns this afch (I use his own words) ‘‘ both for the natural imbecility of the acute angles, as likewise for their uncomeliness/’ As to the beauty or deformity of its appearance, that has nothing to do with our present investigation ; in which, I only aim to point out ; that in some cases these acute angles are not quite so imbecile, or the principles of the pointed arch, quite so devoid of strength, as Sir Henry Wotton, and some other writers on the subject, have been willing to make us believe, in their ge- neral censure of its use. Mons. Gautier has indeed asserted, that the pointed arch is stronger , than a semicircle ; in this assertion, he is how- ever too general ; as this is only true, in parti- cular 80 S. BEAZLEY, ON CLilar cases; that K when the radius by which it is described, exceeds the span in a certain ratio ; in all other cases it is weakerj in propor- tion, as the centres, from which it is described ; approach, or recede, from the ends of the ho- rizontal line which forms its base. In an able calculation by Dr. Young, at this moment before me, of the equilibrations of the different arches, that have been used in our Gothic edifices; it is proved that if the radius of the pointed arch, be threc-foui’ths of the span ; or forms that arch which is called the sharp arch of the fourth point ; the strength of a semicircle, will be to the strength of the Gothic arch of the same span; as 1257 to 1000. And if the radius be tw'o-thirds of the span ; or form an arch of the third point; the strength of the semicircle will be to the Gothic arch of equal span, as 1210 to 1000. From this w^e see that the Gothic arch, whose radius is equal to the intervals between the pillars, is the vVeakest ; and that, according as the centres from which it is described, move on either side in a horizontal line, the strength of the arch increases. Thus in many instances it was very little^ inferior to the semicircle ; and we find that we have GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. gl iiave not to blame them for the adoption of an arch, so totally devoid of the requisite strength, as we may have been led to suppose ; for as their arches were generally constructed at the upper part of the cathedral ; where they had only the weight of the roof to sustain, there was no great pressure immediately upon the point of the arch, AVhere there was an incum-- bent weight, we may generally observe that it was the practice of the architect to lessen it as much as possible, by windows and other per- forations. Indeed, from the manner in which many of their largest buildings are constructed ; where from the almost stupendous appearance, one would suppose, very thick walls and hut- ments were necessary for their support, the Gothic architects must have perpetually cal- culated the minimum of necessary resistance and solidity with great exactitude ; &nd certainly deserve great credit, for the very considerable skill they have shewn, in thus aggravating the appearance of boldness, and yet rendering their structure secure by the manner of disposing the materials. Nor could this perhaps have been effected, but from the judicious method with which they lightened every part of the con- struction. All their vaulting was composed of a. G skeleton 82 S. BEAZLEY, ON skeleton of hewn stone, forming the cross springers and other principal molded ribs ; while the interstices were filled with materials of less weight; frequently with a cement; and, where it was easily procured, with chalk, as at Salis- bury ; where there are cross springers only, without any tracery work. Mr. Price, in his Observations on this Cathedral, says, The “ groins and principal ribs are of Chilmark stone, but the shell or vaulting between them, “ is of hewn stone and chalk mixed together, on the top of which is laid a coat of mortar and rubble, of a consistence probably ground “ in a kind of mill and poured on hot while ** the lime was bubbling, because by this the “ whole is so cemented together as to become “ all of one entire substance.” As to the assertion of the whole of their buildings being constructed of stones, so small as to be carried to their destined position by dint of manual labor ; it is fully contradicted by several authors ; who affirm, that most of their cornices and pinnacles were raised by means of pullies, wheels, &c., and, that some of them were of immense weight : of which latter assertion we may even now have ocular demonstration. Tak- ing the removal, and the raising of these large bodies GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 83 bodies then into our consideration ; we catinot suppose, but that the proper application of the BALANCE — the WEDGE — the PULLEY— and the LEVER, was perfectly known to them. Four mechanical powers, which have been proved fully competent, to raise any of those celebrated structures of antiquity, whose massive remains still strike the beholder with astonishment. Their roofs were generally framed of a mixture of chesnut and oak; timbers, then in most general use, and with which, in many of their cathedrals, they have burthened the walls with a great additional and unnecessary weight.* Their construction in this particular,, is in- deed deservedly censured ; as there was no ne- cessity, either for the height of their roofs, or for the covering of lead, which must have added much pressure to their walls. This fault should have been particularly guarded against, a§ thgil- fOofs have no tye beams to steady their framed timbers. But although we must con- sider this as a great error, we must still' give G 2 them * It has been calculated that the several roofs of Salisbury cathedral, contain at a moderate computation, not less, than ti641 tons of oak j a most prodigious weight when we consider the inferiority of the supports to those of other buildings. S4 5. BEAZLEY, them credit, for having in most instances, pro* vided a sufficient hutment to resist the additional pressure. These roofs were generally constructed high, the rafters meeting at the top in an acute angle, and among the Gothic edifices this was the general rule for their form. The roof of the church of Batalha in Por- tugal, as we are informed by the splendid pub- lication of Murphy ; is constructed much flat- ter ; nor in this instance do I think the beauty of the general eflect, at all spoiled by the altera- tion. I should not have quoted this example^ after having confined my observations within the boundaries of my own country ; but,- that it was designed by, and principally executed under Mr. David Hackett, a native of Ireland, who most likely, attained his knowledge from English professors. We may therefore consider the church of Batalha, as the production of British genius, transplanted to a foreign clime. Among their roofs however, we often find the construction of some, particularly worthy of admiration. I mean, such as those, which were generally used in large halls ; where the rafters and framed timbers, were wrought into the GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 85 the only ornaments which graced the ceiling, Westminster Hall is an admirable example of this kind of roof. The rafters are all carved, and the parts, in which the braces and smaller timbers frame into each other ; are hid by a sculpture in the form of an angel ; most judi^ ciously placed, both as an ornament, and as giving an additional strength to the roof. The height of their spires, we must also con^ sider as another proof, that they must have brought their principles of construction to a great degree of perfection. The first, of any consequence,* is supposed to have been erected in the year 1222; which was, like their roofs formed of timber, and covered with lead : they soon how^ ever used stone in these buildings, and we find that most of those subsequently erected, were composed of that material. As to the proportions of which the ca^ thedrals were generally formed ; Murphy, in a transverse section of the Batalha, has deduced them, from the same standard that the an- cients deduced the proportions of their column, that is, from the human figure. And to deli- neate his idea with correctness, he has in this section, ingeniously placed the outlines of a G 3 man, * The spire of old St. Paul’s cathedral 86 S. BEAZLEY, ON man, with one hand stretched above his head, touching the ceiling of the centre aisle, while the other is extended horizontally, till it meets the external wall of the side aisle ; and from a comparison of these proportions, they ap- pear to resemble those of some of our own an- cient cathedrals. During the thirteenth and fourteenth cen- turies, most of the exterior of our Saxon and Norman churches, were transformed into the Gothic ; which by this means became the ge- neral characteristic, of almost every religious edifice in the country. Some of them were totally new faced with stone ; but others were merely altered, by cutting their arches to a point ; and by the addition of porches, pin- nacles, and statues. This, almost general trans- formation, completed the victory of the Gothic over every other style of architecture in the kingdom. From the end of the fourteenth century, no remarkable variation can be discovered ; except as to the point of the arch ; which was made more acute or obtuse, according to the fancy of the architect. Towards the end of the fifteenth century, no mixture of the Gothic with any other style had taken plaee ; although this was a common error in the succeeding ■ years. GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 87 years. At this time, the depressed or scheme arch was in the most general use, and in many instances the lines were but slightly curved. Gothic architecture, at this period, had been at the height of its perfection, for nearly two centuries ; and if we refer to the historical accounts of the styles of this art among the ancients ; we shall find that none arrived at such a great degree of perfection in so short a period. The rapidity of their progress, is indeed the more to be wondered at, when we consider the general ignorance of the times in which it was invented ; an ignorance, with which every ar- chitect had to contend. We are principally in- debted for the construction of our ancient ca- thedrals to ecclesiastical characters ; who, amid their theological studies and disquisitions, still found some time to dedicate to the attainment of science, and the pursuit of the liberal arts : and as the laymen were in general, at that early period, too much engaged in warfare and other employments, which kept them in total ignorance of the sciences, so that none of them were supposed capable of becoming ar- chitects ; these ecclesiastics paid particular at- tention to the erection of their monasteries. G 4 They S. BEAZLEY, ON ss They frequently drew the plans, and super-n intended their execution ; and the accuracy with which they have in many instances ascertained the maximum of their pillars, arches, and buttresses, proves, that they were not so igno- rant of the science, as some have chosen to assert. There were no doubt, many, who not having attained any degree of exellence in their art, were glad to avail themselves of some ap- proved model ; and this obviated the necessity of any new calculations respecting the ratios of force and resistance. If however, amid the general ignorance of the age in which it was invented, this style at- tained to such a degree of perfection ; what progress might it not have made, had its in- ventors been assisted by a general dissemination of science. But, I'rom this history of its progress, and of the perfection to which it had arrived, we must proceed to the principal circumstances which occasioned its fall. We have viewed it in all its splendor ; have admired its various decorations, and for a time rejoiced in that superiority, which it had attained, over the massive characteristics of the Saxon and Norman styles ; and must now pur- sue GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 89 sue our subject, when its beauties were no longer courted by the artist ; and when its pen^ dent ceilings and embroidered roofs no longer called forth the admiration of the beholder. At the time, when Henry VHIth conceived his aversion to the religion and superstition of the Roman Catholics, and began the reforma- tion ; every thing, that in the least degree tended to the support, or to recall the re- membrance, of this religion, also fell under his displeasure ; and it is to this circumstance, that we must in a great measure attribute the aboli- tion of a style in architecture, so long used in the cathedrals which monkish superstition had raised. The famous Dissolution Act was passed to satisfy the rapacity of his courtiers, who longed to possess themselves of the monastic revenues; and even the two universities were at first m- cluded in it : these edifices, however, sacred to science as well as to religion, were saved among the general dilapidation, which many of the monasteries and cathedrals experienced. As, in the earliest periods of the dissemi- nation of Christianity among mankind ; the first general reformers of the idolatrous princi- ples of the ancients ; in that intemperate zeal, by 90 S. BEAZLEY, ON by which their reformation was characterised ; rased to the ground so many of those beautiful temples, in which so much genius and labor had been expended i so, did the desolating hands those reformers, who succeeded Henry Vllltb, destroy many of the most beautiful specimens of this style of architecture, and dismember most of the ancient cathedrals of the only things that rendered them worthy of admiration. Righteous havoc cov’ ring distant fields With the wrought remnants of the shatter’d pile, “ While through the land the musing pilgrim sees A track of brighter green, and in the midst “■ Appears a mould’ring wall, with ivy crown’d, “ Or Gothic turret, pride of ancient days ! Now but of use to grace the rural scene. To bound our vistas, and to glad the sons Of George’s reign, reserved for fairer times !”* Having thus, though feebly, attempted to give some account of Gothic architecture -j" through * The Puritans in the time of Oliver Cromwell'were famed for their dilapidation of ancient cathedrals j particularly those of old St. Pauls and Canterbury. In 1666 the fire of London, also deprived us of many speci- mens of Gothic, which were however happily replaced by Grecian architecture, instead of that mixed kind which had so long dis- graced our public buildings. "t There is another species of Gothic, very different in its characteristics GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 91 tliroiigh its various stages of progressive improve- ment ; till the introduction of the Roman and Grecian completely annihilated its pretensions to the favor of artists in this country : and also to consider some of its various parts individually, and scientifically ; I shall next proceed to con- sider its beauties, as to their effect upon the imagination. And this I do, not with the least idea of giving it any superiority to, or denying the merits of any other style ; but merely to vindicate it from the unjust censures of those, who do not, or at least pretend not, to admire any thing, that cannot be traced to a classical original. I am induced to make this attempt at its vindication, by the following observation ; in which, speaking of the superiority of the an- cient architecture over the Gothic, the writer says — ‘‘ For proof of this, without travelling far ** abroad, I dare report myself to any man of judgment, and that has the least taste of order characteristics from that which I have attempted to delineate, and ■which will form a subject for another Essay. This species has been denominated Castellated Gothic, and was generally used in that age when the feudal system rendered it necessary that no- blemen should possess fortified castles. This style bears a much greater resemblance to the original Saxon and Norman archi- tecture. §2 S, BEAZLEY, ON order and magnificence, if after he has looked awhile at King Henry the Seventh’s ** chapel at Westminster, gazed on its sharp “ angles, jetties, narrow lights, lame statues, ** lace, and other cutwork and crinkle-crankle, and shall then turn his eyes on the banquetting ** house built at Whitehall by Inigo Jones, ** after the ancient manner; or on what his Majesty’s surveyor. Sir Christopher Wren, has advanced at St. Pauls, and consider what a glorious object the cupola, porticos, co- ** lonnades, and other parts present to the be- holder. I say, let him well consider, and ** compare them judicially, without partiality and prejudice, and then pronounce which of the two manners strikes the understanding as well as the eye with the more majesty and solemn greatness ; though in so much plainer and simple dress, conform to the respective orders and entablature : and accordingly de^ termine to which the preference is due ; not ** as we said, that there is not something solid, and oddly artificial too, after a sort.” It is certainly true, that the chaste simpli-^ city of the ancient architecture ; the boldness of its various parts and their just appropriation ; particularly in the beautiful examples above- mentioned ; GOTHIC AUCHITECTURE. 9S mentioned ; cannot fail to call forth the admi- ration of every man possessed of the least taste and judgment. But still, surely nothing but a determined prejudice against Gothic architec- ture, can ever assert that it is so totally eclipsed as entirely to lose its pretensions, at least to some portion of praise. Who can behold the grand outline of the Abbey at Westminster, and not feel its effect upon the imagination ! Or who can inspect the various parts of its minuter composition, and deny the science and ingenuity that must have been exerted in its construction ! — I feel con- vinced, in my own mind, that no one, who is not, either influenced by prejudice, or who does not view it with the fastidious determination to be dissatisfied, can refuse this structure a tri- bute of their admiration. Various have been the enquiries into the true principles of taste ; and into the origin of our ideas of the sublime and beautiful : ab- stract terms — intended to express those feelings of wonder and admiration excited in our minds by the splendid works of nature and art. Burke has well spoken of the first ; when he describes it as being too volatile to bear the chains of a definition — and, as far as such ab- stract 94 , S. BEAZLEY, ON stract terms will admit of explanation and de- scription ; he has traced the origin of our ideas of sublimity and beauty. Vast and magnificent works, he allows in the first place to be sublime, 'and in his pro* gress through this abstract disquisition, he says — ‘‘ I think that all edifices calculated to produce “ an idea of the sublime, ought rather to be “ dark and gloomy.” Now, most of our Gothic structures possess both these qualities which Burke thinks requisite to create ideas of sublimity : and that kind of gloom in which the broad aisle of a Gothic cathedral is enve- loped, by the stained glass of the pointed win- dow, seems to be that very gloom which our author intended to describe. It softens the shadows, and throws a rich mellow tint over the marble pavement and embroidered ceiling ; giving that indescribable effect, which almost irresistibly leads the mind to solemn medita- tion. Murphy, speaking of the effect of the western window in the church of Batalha — says that The fathers usually assemble in the choir to chaunt the evening service, whilst the ‘‘ myriads of variegated rays, which emanate “ from this beautiful window, resemble so “ many GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 95 ** many beams of glory playing round them/* It seems indeed From the broad window’s height To add new lustre to religious light. To bid that pomp with purer radiance shine.” We have ever been used to judge of the beauty and sublimity of an object, according to its effect upon the imagination. And who is not affected with the solemn and impressive gran- deur, that must be inspired by the view of those internal beauties of a Gothic structure. The high raised arches — massy pillars — and above all the “ artificial infinity of the pendent ceiling, and numerous intersections of the groins, studded with its various ornaments I What ima- gination, that is not completely chilled by the coldest apathy ; can behold these beauties, without feeling the effect of their grandeur and sublimity, and owning the almost awful so- lemnity of their appearance, particularly when the immensity of the undertaking is consi- dered ! Who, * I am aware that I here use Mr. Burke’s term, rather in a different sense to that in which he applies it. But, it certainly apppears as applicable to the mazy windings of the tracery of the Gothic ceiling as to any uniform succession of great parts.” 96 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. Who, with these ideas, can contem^date^ without admiration these works of art; that seem to have taken ages in their execution ! or listen, without owning their power over the imagination, to those ceremonies of religion, rendered more impressive by the solemnity of the cathedral. Where, through the long drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise !” AN ESSAY ON THE SITUATIONS AND ACCOMPANIMENTS OF VILLAS. % JOSEPH WOODS, Jun, Mead February 20 , 1 807 . In any subject where some fixed principles are established which may be appealed to with confidence, a writer maybe sure that if he cannot make a good essay, he may at least be able, by care and assiduity, to avoid any gross error ; and if he state his positions clearly, and expose correctly the grounds on which he formed them, on a subject of practical utility, his paper can hardly fail being of some value. The case is very different in what I have undertaken to treat upon; hardly any care will afford me a perfect security, even against absurdity; the grounds themselves, on which I have to esta- ' V H blish 98 J. WOODS, blisli my opinion, are so vague and uncertainy that to expose my view of them correctly, may be only to expose my own incapacity. That I might not be chargeable with any imperfections which would be easily avoided, I have read the works of Price, Knight, Rep- ton, and two or three other authors, or at least such parts of them as seemed to have any con- nection with the title of this essay ; for the ex- press purpose of incorporating what I approved with my own observations, but without thinking it necessary to drudge through every book which has been written on taste. In these writers I have accordingly found many just and varied views of the subject though mixed with error, and if their ideas or even almost their words, should happen to occur in this paper, without any further ac- knowledgment, 1 hope I shall not be deemed a plagiary ; for the knowledge I have obtained from them is so united with what I have gained from other sources, that I should not now be always able to point it out. A celebrated writer * has drawn a strongly marked line between sublimity and beauty. The character of villas is, or may be, very various, but the gradation is so gentle, from the * Burke, Essay on Sublime and Beautiful. ON VILLAS. 99 the character of the cottage to that of the pa- lace, and it is so impossible to draw a distinct line between them, that I am inclined to conclude, that though the emotion they produce may differ in species it is always of the same kind; that the effects, however are stilh/m//^r; and that if of sublimity and beauty, the one acts by re- laxing, the other by exciting the nerves, the emotions experienced on contemplating beau- tiful and well-placed houses, must either always relax, or always excite them. As, therefore, the word beauty is often used to denote whatever is pleasing to the eye, and as, likewise, it can hardly be maintained, that all houses ought to aim at sublimity, I shall use the former word as a general term to express the nature of the emo- tion intended to be conveyed by the architect and landscape gardener, to the beholders of their works. I believe it will not be objected to me here that some of both sorts of artists have aimed at ugliness, (though perhaps the inspec- tion of their works might almost excite such a sentiment), but perhaps it may, that some ar- chitects have rather attempted the picturesque than the beautiful. But though some authors have conceived, that picturesque objects are not H 2 always 100 J. WOODS, always tlic niost suitable for paintings,^ and that objects not picturesque are sometimes preferable to those which are so, yet all agree, that an object which will not please in a well-painted picture cannot be picturesque; I shall, there- fore, take the liberty of ranking the pictures- que also among the modes ot the beautiful. My object, then, is to enquire what si- tuations, and what accompaniments, are to be chosen to make a house appear beautiful. The word Villa, as generally used, will perhaps neither include an ornamented cottage nor a palace. 1 wish it to include both, if in the country ; and though 1 thus rather extend th(; term beyond its usual acceptation, yet I could think of no other that would not be morQ objectionable, and therefore venture to hope, that the Society will indulge me, by accepting the word in the sense I wish to use it. I would define villut “ a house in the country, appa- rently calculated for the residence of a gentle- man;” I say apparently, because I conceive that whether it is so or not, is of little conse- quence. My business, at present, is only with the outside. Of ^ Uvedale Price. JOl OF COTTAGES. I do not attempt, in this Essay, to give any directions for the cottages of the labourer : my cottage is a species of villa, and my object to point out what ornaments and accompani- ments may be introduced, to mark it as the re- sidence of a gentleman, without destroying its character as a cottage. It is evident, that a cottage is not a place in which the splendours of life can be exhibit- ed to advantage : the ideas it suggests are those of quiet, seclusion from the world, and do- mestic comfort. That the taste of a gentleman may lead him to prefer these to the bustle of public life, is neither unreasonable nor uncommon, and if only for a short time he prefer retirement, I know no reason why that retirement should not be to a cottage. The cottage of a labourer may occupy many situations, but that of a gentle- man must be secluded. No appearance of splendour or 'magnificence, no affected imita- tion of sublime objects, is admissible; but every thing which can convey the Ideas of neat- ness and comfort is to be sought for. Whether it be built of stone, brick, or wood, or covered with thatch or slate, is of no consequence. II 3 The 102 J. WOODSi. The character of the cottage may be preserved with almost any materials, but no costly orna- ment may appear, no pointed windows, to mimic those of cathedrals : all must be simple, and unassuming. The projecting porch will furnish an appropriate shelter to the entrance, and the trellis, covered with creeping plants, and the walls with fruit trees, will break the uniformity of colour, and give a finish to the whole. A cottage ought to be placed in a garden ; this seems to be absolutely necessary : and this garden may be surrounded by pales or a hedge ; but I think walls are better avoided, as they will hardly seem to belong to the edifice, and the colour of the hedge, or the pales, is so much more modest and unassuming. Adjoining to the garden an orchard is desirable, and one or two meadows; but no park, no dressed grounds : these are aj^propriated to dwellings of greater magnificence. If it is added, that the whole should be in a sheltered situation, shaded by trees, but not buried amongst them, all that is necessary to be said on cottages will be completed. The cottage and the villa, properly so called, are widely separated, but every step between them ON VILLAS. 103 them is capable of character and of beauty. The cottage itself may increase in size, in orna- ment, and in proportionate height ; the garden will, at the same time, extend itself, and walls will be substituted for pales and hedges. As this proceeds something of a pleasure-ground may be added ; but no park : that belongs to the villa, and till the character of the villa is completely introduced in the mansion, no park can appear as an appendage to it. In this intermediate class we may enume- rate the box ; a name extremely appropriate, but to which no very delightful ideas are at- tached, except by those who build them. The object in them appears to be to unite to neatness and comfort, prospect and some dis- play of wealth. Thus it is not capable of the seclusion of the cottage, and does not reach the dignity of the villa ; nor can it possess a happy medium between the two, for it requires all the display of a villa, without its appearance of respectability. OF VILLAS, PROPERLY SO CALLED. I did not, at first, intend to treat in this Essay of the forms of villas, nor do I now wish II 4 to 104 J. WOODS, to enter into detail on the subject ; but some observations are necessary, because both the situation and accompaniments have considerable relation to them. I have heard, that one of our architects has declared his idea of the perfection of form in a country residence to be a cube ; and if we reason from what we see, we shall be tempted to conclude, that his opinion is very prevalent. Uvedale Price has compared such houses to brick clamps, and I think correctly ; but he gives the preference, though in a slight degree, to the house : and in this I think he has erred ; for the sloping sides, and apparent solidity of the brick clamp, give it an air of stability, and even of magnificence (if we could divest our- selves of certain associations of meanness) that the house with its upright walls and large openings never reaches. The roof, too, by indicating the hollowness of the structure, injures the ef- fect. In the sketch herewith offered to the Socie- ty, I have endeavoured to improve this cha- racter of firmness, in a house of this sort (al- most the only one of which it is capable) by making the size diminish upwards, inlroduc*ing small openings, and giving the roof so small a slope. ON VILLAS. 105 a slope, as hardly to interrupt the idea of so- lidity. To give it more importance, it is set upon an extended basement, which would contain the offices, with projecting walls to support the earth in front. This form seems suitable to a house, where a view all round is desirable, and would be well placed on some insulated hill, rising about a mile or two from the base of some loftier range, or on some knoll, advancing considerably from such a range into the lower country ; for I believe it would be impossible to fix any moderate sized house on the top of a hill, the highest in the neighbourhood, so as to look well, even if that should not be very high ; and a mile, or mile and half, is distance enough to enable one to have views of great variety and beauty. It is true, that a very large house, such as might without impropriety be termed a palace, will be extremely well placed, if situated so as to domineer over the whole country ; but it must be of a size sufficient to form a centre to the whole scene, and ought not merely to occupy the top, but should, with its offices and artificial accompaniment?, stretch down and cover great part of the hill. The form of the Grecian temple is very simple^ 106 J. WOODS, simple, but the striking inequality of the sides renders it less so than one of the clamp-shaped houses, even when considered merely as to the outline. If we attend to the detail, we shall find still more difference, as the most beautiful effects are produced by the forms of the co- lumns, and their position round the building. The situation, when not in cities, is usually on the top of some naked, rocky hill; and, it must be confessed, that in such circumstances they are exceedingly beautiful, and even ap- propriate, for the severe simplicity of the build- ing seems to accord with the naked majesty of the hill. The Ionic temple on the Ilissus is not surrounded by columns, nor seated on any eminence, yet its effect is not without beauty ; but perhaps the nakedness of the country, and a certain wildness it possesses, and from the na- ture of the soil must always have possessed, may admit corresponding nakedness in the building better than more luxuriant scenery. Such an exposed appearance, however, though it may suit the character of the country, and unite with that of a temple, is totally inconsis- tent with that of a peaceful residence. The next form, in point of simplicity, adopted by modern art, at least of those worth pot ice, ON VILLAS. 107 notice, is produced by the addition of a portico. These usually form a parallcllogram on the plan, with the portico on one of its sides ; but it is sometimes added to the end. In either case, the improvement is very great and obvious, both as it produces some degree of intricacy, and by its contrast of light and shade gives im- portance to the center, and fixes the eye on the most beautiful part of the building; but still, if without offices, and without accompaniments, the house is in danger of looking as if only stuck into the ground for a time, till a better situation could be found for it. In proceeding from simplicity to richness and variety, in the forms of houses, the next step is the addition of wings, lower than the body of the building. These either may, or may not, contain the offices : with that I have at present nothing to do. They may either be on a continued line with the building, or may advance or fall back, angularly, or in curved lines ; they may be on a level with the build- ing, or placed lower ; they may be simple ; or they may vary in themselves, in position ot height. But before treating of these, I will just mention one mode of varying the outline, which I believe is now never put in practice. That JOS J. WOODS, That is by wings (I know not what else to call them) of the height of the centre, and project- ing from it at riglit angles. Such a form I do not recommend, yet 1 think it capable of con- siderable beauty. Tlie Iiouscs built thus are al- ways lofty, and with their dwarf walls, vases, flights of steps, and richly wrought iron gates, have an air of stateliness, which it would not be easy to attain, even in the more perfect modes of architecture, especially if accompanied, as 1 believe they always were, with rows of elms, the most stately of all trees. And so far from reprobating the taste of our ^ancestors in this respect, I am inclined highly to applaud it. rheir manners were stately, their dress was stately, they built stalely houses, and they ac- companied them with avenues of elms, the tree and the disposition, of all others, best suit- ed to their purpose. I have considered wings as lower buildings, extending on each side of the center. A lower building, however, may extend backwards, attd contain the offices, and though it w’ill not be visiole in front, yet in an angular view such arrangement may not be without merit; at least, if such a thing be added to a square house, it Will Le better to make it fit to be seen, and bring it ON VILLAS. 109 it into view, than to hide it in thick plantations, as is now usually done. In considering the arrangements of wings, I shall proceed from the simpler to the more complicated, going through the angular before I touch upon the circular forms. Wings are, I believe, never added exactly on a line with the front; they fall back a few inches, at least. But I shall not consider a break of one or two feet, as sufficient to exclude a building from this division, as hardly a per- ceptible diminution of the lines in perspective is produced by it, or a mass of shade, sufficient to give it the peculiar character of the house whose wings fall back. With this allowance, it will be found that the arrangement is by no means an uncommon one ; and that it is sus- ceptible, not merely of considerable hut of very eminent beauty, any one may satisfy himself by going only to Wanstead-house, a villa which has few equals in external appearance, and 1 had almost said no superior, in this country. It would be difficult to place the base of a wing, continuing on the line of the iront of a building, lower than that of the principal edi- fice. Steps, or a terrace, or something must appear, which will unite with the centre, and give ]10 J. WOODS, give it a lower base. Where an order is intro- duced in each part, that of the wing may be placed lower, without impropriety, and perhaps with advantage, and in some degree produce the effect. Wings falling back has been strongly recommended -is but I think not justly : they do not come forward enough to do their duty ; to unite with the building, and take off the appearance of baldness, and nakedness. Where other artificial accompaniments are used, they may, however, unite to them, and form a very good whole. If they are placed lower than the front, they will have still less effect : but, even then, they may unite with other ac- companiments, and their very insignificance may possibly give a more showy appearance to the centre. Wings falling back may be on a higher level than the principal building, a circum- stance which could not be admitted in any other disposition. In the sketch that I have given of wings advancing in front, the Society will pro- bably recognize the outline of a design I had the honour to present to them for a public libra- ry. They break the lines of the centre, and give an apparent shelter to the entrance j but as ^ Itejpton. ON VILLAS. in as they hide its absolute height, and in some situations prevent the view of the principal part, they may, perhaps, be objected to, as diminish- ing its importance. To me, I confess, it ap- pears they would rather increase it, by provok- ing a comparison between their smaller parts and those of the centre : at any rate, they much increase the variety ; as every change of dis- tance and direction would alter the comparative size of the parts and their combinations, and the general outline. If they are placed somewhat below the principal part, it would, I think, be an advantage, and it is in this circumstance that 1 have endeavoured to give the Soeiety some idea of its effect. Under the first circumstance, the arrange- ment is by no means uncommon ; nor indeed is the second, as far as that is produced, by put- ting the order of the wings on a lower basement : at least they are frequently exhibited in the de- signs of Palladio, and in the Vitruvius Britannicus. Vanbrugh has introduced something of this sort into all his principal edifices, and though his detail is usually very bad, yet the general tribute of admiration paid to the effect of his buildings, entitles him to be considered as good authority in the formation of a whole. Wings 112 J. WOODS. Wings advancing from the house will fre* quently require a small piece on a line with the centre, or nearly so, to unite them to it, so that their form is not quite simple : but in those I have hitherto considered the height will be the same. If this piece be considerably extended, the character will be altered. Another source of variety arises from this connexion being placed back, instead of nearly in a line with the principal building. One more form, giving sufficient character to be w^orth notice, occurs to me in buildings whose wings are of a uniform height : it is that where each wing forms half an H, as in plate 4, fig. 1. As this form w'ould conceal the centre more than any before noticed, it is necessary that the proportions of the wings should be smaller. Houses may also have ‘ secondary wings (if the expression be allowable) ; build- ingssubordinate to the first wdngs, as these are to the body of the house. Every variety of simple wings above enumerated may be further varied by the addition of these secondary wings, which, like the first, may fall back, or be on a line with, or advance before, the others; or may have one elbow, as described in the simple advancing wings, or two, like those of the house ON VILLAS. 113 house with half H wings. The addition of these subordinate wings increases, in no small degree, the variety and magnificence of the whole; but their disposition, though consider- ably important, is less so than that of the prin- cipal wings, and to enumerate them would ex- tend this essay to an unreasonable lengdi ; ' for not only secondary wings, but others subordinate to them, may be employed, or perhaps even still farther. But there is danger of losing sim- plicity by going too far, and presenting to the eye a mere mass of detached buildings, instead of one uniform whole. Houses usually have two winsrs. but four are sometimes introduced, and when the house is exposed on all sides seem almost necessary. Instead of adding lower buildings to the extremities of wings, some architects have added towers to them. This, I confess, does not please my eye; but I suppose it has that of others, or it would not have been so fre- quently repeated, and I know no reason why it should be absolutely prohibited. The simplest circular wings may be dis- posed four ways : a quadrant receding, P, 4*. fig, 2; a quadrant advancing,^^. 3. ; a semicircle, on the line of the centre, 4; a semicircle I . advancing, 114 J. WOODS, advancing, Jig. 5. These, without varying in their height, may be combined with straight wings in many wa^ys ; and if secondary wings be admitted, the combinations are all but infi- nite, and that with perfect uniformity, and without transgressing the strictest principles of architectural composition, AVhen this circular form is admitted into a composition, I think it should not be only in one situation, but ought to be repeated; at least, if the building have much extent. Perhaps it will be better, where all the parts are straight lines, to have the prin- cipal building an oblong, and not a square : and, on the contrary, where curved lines are admitted, to have the centre square and crown- ed with a dome. Thus, each will unite with its subordinate parts, and a noble simplieity will mark the one, while a rich and splendid magnificence characterizes the other. When I contemplate the inexhaustible va- riety of forms which may thus be produced, the difference of character and expression they will admit, and when I consider further, that they are not far fetched and extravagant, but ob- vious to all who will take the trouble to_ think on the subject, and that many of them have been used, I am astonished that any one should have ON VILLAS. 115 have thought it necessary to build irregular houses, for the sake of variety and picturesque beauty. If, indeed, by picturesque beauty be understood beauty calculated to please in paint- ing, one would think that the example of such artists as Claude and Poussin might be pleaded as sufficient authority for regular architecture ; but if we chuse to understand by picturesque beauty^ that which will please in painting but not elsewhere, it may be better to pause, and con- sider how far it is worth while to build houses merely for the sake of having them painted. Having thus pointed out the principal forms of Villas whose architecture is correct ; (for oi the extravagant and short-lived whimsies ot the present day I do not attempt to treat ;) it is necessary to advert to their accompaniments. After what has been said of the intermediate styles, it is needless to mention that a park, or at least dressed grounds, are absolutely neces- sary to complete the idea of a villa. The dispo- sition of these does not come within the plan of this Essay ; but between them and the house itsell, it is still desirable to have something which, partaking of the character of each, may serve to unite them together, and give them an appa- rently indispensible connexion. I 2 In 116 J. WOODS, 111 this country, the accompaniments of villas seem never to have been scientifically considered. In Italy, perhaps, the case is differ rent : at least we read of them, as if they had been a point considerably attended to ; but whatever they may be I am unable to profit by them, as I cannot meet with any thing like a description, much less with such a particular account as would communicate much instruction to myself or to the Society. Modern practice would place the bald and unvaried villa on the ground without attemptr ing to unite them. The more intricate forms I have recommended might be less improperly treated in this manner, as the wingsw ill, in some degree, pertorm the office of accompani- ments, and like the roots of a tree unite with the building, and seem to fix it firmly in its place. In very large edifices, detached build- ings niay be adv’antageously intvoduced as accompaniments, and obelisks or pyramids may, in a few instances, be happily employed ; but the true and appropriate accompaniments of villas are dwarf walls, ornamented with vases and statues, and in large buildings wfith columns, or a range of columns may sometimes occupy tfie place ON VILLAS. 117 place of these dwarf walls, of which the approach to St. Peter’s at Rome furnishes a magnificent example ; but whatever they are, they should partake of the style of the buildings, and in their arrangement follow the general idea of that of its parts. They may proceed in direct lines from the building, as in figure 6 ; or with an elbow, as Jig, 7 ; or with two elbows, nsjig. 8 ; or there may be more than one pair, as in ^g. 9. If the building has circular parts, these accompaniments may also be curved, as in Jig, 10; or they maybe partly curved and partly straight, composed partly of columns and partly of dwarf walls, as Jig, 11. A few years ago, to have ventured to recommend such embellishments would justly have been deemed a bold undertaking; but now, sheltered by the authority of Price and of Knight, an acknowledgement of partiality towards them is attended with no danger. One caution, however, seems necessary ; they should - never be quite plain. They are ornaments, and must be considered as ornaments, even when they serve also purposes of use. They may enclose a garden or court, or support a terrace ; but as long as they are intended to appear as appendages to the house, they must 13 be 118 J. W O O D S, be ornamented : for a plain brick wall, or even a plain ^tone wall, will never be considered as ornamentali It is therefore desirable, that they should have moldings, as well as vases or statues, which are only put on the wall and do not make a part of it. Trailing plants may also, I think, be admitted as ornaments, in parts not too closely connected with the house. Besides the artificial accompaniments of vil- las, it may be expected, perhaps, that I should say something of the natural ones, or at least of the principal one of trees. Of these we may chuse such forms, and place them in such situations, as will best suit our purpose. That the villa ought always to be accompanied by trees there can be no doubt-. It is a defect for a building to be capable of being seen, without interruption all round : I almost doubt whether we ought not rather to make it a point that it should not be seen from any spot, without some part being bid, or some lines broken by the branches ot trees. Trees, considered as accompaniments to buildings, may be divided into two principal classes, those with spreading, and those with ascending branches. The latter class seems to have been the favourite in the gardens ol Italy, and one of our own authors^ has ingeniously ima- * Repton. ON VILLAS. 119 imagined them to be peculiarly suitable to the Grecian architecture, as their lines contrast with the horizontal lines of the buildings; whereas the lines of Gothic architecture having a tendency upwards, are better opposed by the horizontal branches of the English oak. With- out pretending to decide on the truth of this theory, I think we may observe, that the spreading trees are out of their place in towns, where long rows of houses mark the horizontal lines in the strongest manner possible, and that upright ones seemed more adapted to this situ- ation. But this may, perhaps, be owing to the ideas of gloom and dampness, associated with the larger trees, where they are thus forced almost into contract with the house ; and yet no disgust is excited by the shelter they afford a cottage. I think, however, that close to a villa, which is the part I am at present considering, the trees of a spreading growth, though in them- selves by tar the most beautiful, should be sparing- ly introduced, and perhaps some foreign trees, such as the tulip-tree, the plane, or the acacia, would be better than those of our own woods, as the latter are more associated in the mind of an Englishman with the wildness of a forest, and be- sides, are apt to grow too large for such, a situation. I 4 'The 120 J. WOODS, The best situation for a villa Is a gentle eminence or gradual slope, and If possible, sheltered by higher hills. The larger and more complicated the edifice, the higher may he the hill on which it stands, and the more country it may appear to command. An insulated hill of small extent will require a larger villa than an extended range of equal height. In the first instance, the hill will unite with the house, and seem to be fitted for it, and make part of the design ; in the other, the house is merely placed upon it, and we do not r^xpect the accompaniments to stretch all over it. d'he one may he sheltered in wood, to the ether wood will aj)pear subordinate. A house placed on the slope of a hill need not be large in proportion to the size of the hill, nor on the top of a small one, rising Immediately from the base of a larger and almost united with it. And these situations, where the building is not very spacious, are perhaps preferable to the more detached eminence. It is only where the house occupies the summit, that attention to the pro- portion between the hill and the edifice be4 comes important. There are two sorts of residences, which have characters of which it may be thought the Grecian ON VILLAS. 121 Grecian villa is incapable : I mean the castle and the abbey. The first, seated on some bold promontory, has a look of majesty and de- fiance, where a common villa would appear insignificant i and where a house, in such a peculiar situation, is desired, perhaps no form can equal that of the castle. But the disadvan- ta^es are numerous, and the situation itself can- not be esteemed a very favourable one for a peaceful residence. A castle is a building, both in form and situation, calculated for defence; and if this idea be not preserved, the building becomes not merely insignificant but ridiculous. To gain this appearance, the outline must be unequal. Towers must project from the gene- ral face of it ; but they must not be large, as their purpose is to flank the walls : other towers ought to appear as forming part of the circuit of the inclosure. The walls must be thick, or at least appear so, and the openings small. This outline will necessarily render the internal of the edifice, in some degree, rambling and inconvenient. The rooms will be gloomy and irregular ; some few must be very large, or they will have no light ; but most of them will be small. The skill of the architect will, of course, be employed to obviate these inconveniences; but J. WOODS, but they can hardly ever be entirely overcome, without some sacrifice of external propriety : and indeed the irregularity of the building will make it necessary to show some part from almost every other, and therefore if the inside do not preserve something of the same character, a -want of conformity and design will be apparent. On the same principle, all the accompaniments must correspond. The terrace wall, its vases, and other embellishments, must give way to turrets and battlements. Even the approach should partake of the character of defence ; it should appear capable of being well guarded, as steep as convenience will admit, and though the comfort of a dwelling, requires it not only to be perfectly safe but to appear so, yet circum- stances of danger may be suggested to the ima- gination, and the frowning precipice above, and the gloomy gulf below, would prepare us for the martial appearance of the mansion. On a sandy flat, or among gently swelling downs, when perfectly naked, a castle may perhaps be better than a villa, as its lofty inclo- sures will form a shelter within itself, and the nakedness may seem calculated for defence, where no bush, no sudden hollowness in the ground can give shelter to an ambuscade; but lean ON VILLAS. 123 I can conceive no motive to induce a gentleman to chuse such a place for his habitation. If the management of a castle be difficult, that of an abbey is still more so. In its character it unites to the seclusion and separation from the world, which ought to mark the gentleman's cottage, a degree of grandeur, or rather of sub- limity, arising from the idea of its having been appropriated to the service of religion. The inside, likewise, ought to be severe and almost gloomy; for such is the character of the reli- gion of monastic institutions, enjoining a renun- ciation of all the pleasures of the world, and a total devotion of the heart to God. The inhabi- tants of a castle may be supposed to desire and to enjoy the pleasures and the splendour of life; the inhabitant of the monastery ought to reject them all. Whatever is magnificent in his abode is appropriated to the service of his Creator, and ought to be evidently unfit for human habita- tion. Thus the character of the abbey must be sacrificed internally, to obtain the comfort ^ of the villa; and for the sake of internal cheer- fulness, the external appearance must, in some degree, give way. The incongruity, as soon as known, will tend to deprive the external of all its character, to excite disgust, and to destroy the 124 J. WOODS, the emotions of beauty, which at first sight might have been excited. I do not offer this Essay to the Society without a consciousness of its imperfections ; but the subject is extensive, too extensive, per- haps, to be fully included in a communication of this sort, and amidst the pressure of business, and a state of health very unfavourable to ap- plication, I have done my best, and hope that my endeavours will be received with indulgence. AN ESSAY ON B I L AF 1 JD) ATI O NS, By JOSEPH WOODS, Jm. Read January 9, 1 807. The great uncertainty attending the sur- veys of dilapidations, and the very different va- lue affixed to them by different surveyors ; have made me think it desirable, to endeavour to point out some standard by which one might ascertain exactly, what (under the common forms of leases) came properly under the term dilapidations ; and at what rate they ought to be valued. In attempting this, I have met with two important, and, I fear, insuperable difficulties ; the first is, that most of the cases are referred out of court, or, if decided in it, are not thought worth recording. The other, the varying opinion of the judges, who 126 J. WOODS, ON I who have decided in similar cases so different- ly, I had almost said so contradictorily, that they seem to have considered the law on this point as entirely in their own breasts. What in- formation I have been able fo gain on the sub- ject, I now venture to lay before the Society, re- questing their indulgence for my deficiencies. I have, indeed, done little more than arrange, and collect into one view, what I could find on the subject in the second edition of Woodfall’s Law of Landlord and Tenant ; but the assistance of my friends Mr. J’Anson, Mr. Savage, and Mr. Turner, who have been kind enough to com- municate their observations on the subject, and especially of the latter, who has taken the pains to examine all the authorities cited by Woodfall, has enabled me to render my essay much more perfect than it would otherwise have been possible for me to have made it. Still, however, there are some points, on which I cannot produce any au- thority, and am obliged, to set down opinion, instead of law. My object has always been to de- tail, what is, rather than what ought to be. The law as it now is, must be in all these cases, the rule of our conduct, and even if I were able to take upon myself the office of a lawgiver, I think that the accurate knowledge of the regu- lations DILAPIDATIONS. 127 lations which do exist, and as far as possible of the reasons for them, is a necessary step to the understanding of what ought to he. It appears to me, that my subject is a useful one, but by no means generally interesting. As, therefore, I cannot expect to amuse, I will endeavour to avoid being tedious, by compressing what I have to say as much as possible. It is sometimes the practice to begin with a definition of the terms about to be employed : my essay is little more than a definition : dilapi- dations are, however, taken generally, whatever at any given time, a house occupied by any other than its owner, is worse than it ought to be. The owner of any tenement, who lets it on lease to another, has a right to expect that it should be delivered up to him, at the expiration of the term, in as good a condition as is consis- tent with the necessary decay and deteriora- tion produced by time; and that the tenant should make good wliatever it may have sufi’er- ed by accident or neglect, and that, as well in what has been erected by the tenant, as in what was originally demised. If the tenant has failed in this respect, he is consequently bound to pay to the landlord, a sijm equal to the difference in the 128 J. WOODS, ON the value of the estate between what it is, and what it ought to be. This, I think, is the prin- ciple on which all demands for dilapidations are grounded. In some cases, however, it appears that the tenant has a right to remove what he has himself put up. The essay will therefore divide itself into two parts. In the first, I shall endeavour to point out what deteriorations may be legally con- sidered as the effect of time, and what are to be accounted dilapidations : in the second, I shall attempt to explain, what buildings and fixtures are the proper subjects for a charge for dilapida- tions, and what the tenant has power to re- move. If the lease of a house be granted for lessee to do with at his pleasure, the lessee is not at liberty to destroy or pull it down ; (J. Doddridge 2 Rolls, R. 74«, cites 17 E. 3. 18 E. 7) ; and as waste is partial destruction, I think he must be considered as bound to repair. It appears (Woodfall 312, 2 Atk. 383) that a tenant for life shall be obliged to keep tenants’ houses ^ in repair, even if he be such, without * In the case cited. Lord Hardwicke overruled an exception to a master’s report, by which a tenant for life without impeach- ment DILAPIDATIONS. 129 without impeachment of waste, and the same takes place witli a tenant at will ; for, the tenant blight, in justice, to restore the premises in as good a plight as they can be, consistently with such deterioration as is unavoidable ; but a yearly tenant (and by consequence a tenant at will) is bound oiily to tenantable^ and not to lasting repairs. If no covenants are inserted in the lease, (Woodfall 312 ) the common covenants, to re- paivf viaintabiy and uphold, are always implied ; and the lessee is as much bound by them as if they were expressed. If these covenants are expressed, the tenant is bound to keep the premises in repair, and if ^ he should neglect to do so, the lessor, at the end of the term, may claim a sum of money for that purpose. K , Whatever ment of waste, was Charged with several sums for the repair of tenants’ houses on the estate. No authority is cited foj: this doc- trine, and it rests intirely on Lord H.’s dictum 3 and it would, probably (if it be law) only hold where leases had been granted, and not where a tenant for life; without impeachment of waste, had suffered a mansion house, &c. to fall to decay. * Tenantable repairs extend only to the finishing, and not to any part of the skeleton of a house, they include all the work of the joiner, plaisterer, and glazier, but not to that of the brick- layer and carpenter ; stopping out wind and weather are however Included in tenantable repairs. 130 J. WOODS, ON Whatever injury the tenant has done him- self, or permitted to be done by others, to the premises, whereby the estate of the lessor is di- minished, is clearly a dilapidation, and charge- able as such; whatever injury has taken place by accident, is also a dilapidation,* It remains to consider the injuries occasioned by neglect. The rule to be observed in determining what injuries are dilapidations, is that fair tvear, without accident, is not a dilapidation ; but, that wherever there is any degree of accident, it is one. * Woodfall is not very clear on the subject of accidents by hrcj he says, p. 293, If a house be destroyed by tempest, “ lightning, or the like, which is the act of Providence, it is no “ waste j and the statute 6 Anne, c. 3 1 , enacts, that no action “ shall be prosecuted against any person, in whose house any “ fire shall accidentally begin 5 with a proviso that the act shall “ not defeat any argument between landlord and tenant.” Again, p. 320. At common law lessees were not answerable to land- lords for accidental or negligent burnings j then came the sta- tute of Gloster, which by making tenants for life and years lia- “ ble to waste without any exception, consequently rendered them answerable for destruction by fire;” but, now, 6 Anne “ c. 31, theantient law is restored, and the distinction introduced by the statute of Gloster, between tenant at will and other les'* sees, is taken away j for, &c, &c.” Yet, he adds, p. 327, ‘*An exception of accidents by fire is now in many cases introduced into leases to protect the lessee, who would, as we have seen, be liable to rebuild in his covenant to repair.” This is evidently contradictory, but it is now fully decided, that the covenant does extend to all accidents of that nature. DILAPIDATIONS. 131 one. The difference between accident and wear, appears to be that the latter takes place gradually and insensibly, the former suddenly and perceptibly ; thus the nosing of a step may be quite worn away, and it shall be no dilapida- tion ; but if from any cause whatever, the nosing have been broken away, instead of worn, it is a dilapidation. Perhaps this definition may be thought to leave too great a latitude to the word accident, as it includes circumstances that occur without any apparent reason, for their happening at that particular time rather than at any other; thus, if the timbers of a floor decay, the floor will per- liaps give way, at a time when there was no par- ticular stress upon it; yet, I think common lan- guage will justify me in terming such a circum- stance an accident ; and, besides, it appeared that I could express myself more clearly and con- cisely, by using the word in this manner. AVherever accident has taken place, not only the accident itself is a dilapidation, but all injuries arising to the building therefrom. I believe I shall be better understood if 1 mention a few particulars. If a building be covered by weather-board- ing, and the weather-boarding decay by age, as K 2 long 132 J. WOODS, ON long as it forms an entire and complete coverings it is no dilapidation ; but if it be broken, or fal- len down in any part, it is a dilapidation ; and if, owing to a neglect of repairing it, any internal work be injured, this injury is a dilapidation, al-* ** though no further accident take place, for it is a consequence of the first accident. If a timber decay, supporting any part of the house, it is not chargeable as a dilapidation, as long as it conti- nues a sufficient support; but if it give way, the tenant is bound not only to replace the timber, but also to repair all the damage done by its fall* In external coverings the law seems some- what stricter against the tenant than this rule would require, for if any thing decay for want of attending to the coverings, it is to be consider- ed as a dilapidation, even if no accident can be supposed to have taken place* * I am not aware * I have been inclined to doubt, from the expressions of Woodfall, whether in dilapidations, arising from neglect of cover- ings, the coverings themselves were to be estimated as such j his words are these, (Woodfall 293, Co. Lit. 53, 4 and notes) waste may be done in houses by pulling them down, or suffering them to be uncovered, whereby the rafters and other timbers of the house are rotten, but the bare suffering them to be uncovered, without rotting th6 timber is not waste: so if a house be un- ** covered. DILAPIDATIONS. 133 aware that this applies in any case, except in that of paint but 1 believe any decay, arising from the neglect of painting is a dilapidation, but the paint itself is not one, unless by the co^ venant the lessee was bound to do it. In one other trifling case, the rule here laid down has an exception, which is in favor of the tenant : broken glass is not a dilapidation, ac- cording to some surveyors, unless there be more than one crack in the pane ; or according to others, while it remains sufficiently entire to exclude wind and weather, the first rule has the advantage of being the most precise, the latter of being the most reasonable. With this except tion (and that of the neglect of covering before mentioned) the rule appears to be, as above stat- ed, that wherever accident takes place, it is a dilapidation, but where the one does not occur, no charge can be made for the other. Having ascertained what are dilapidations, (with respect to the premises acknowledged to be part of the landlord’s estate) it remains to say K 3 - a covered when a tenant cometh in, it is no waste in the the tenant to suffer the same to fall down.” I have added the last words, to shew that the expression “ the bare suffering them to be uncovered” does not mean to remain uncovered” but to lecome so. But the decisions of the courts and the practice of surveyors are decidedly averse to such an interpretation. 134 J. WOODS, ON a few words, on the value of them, as chargea- ble on the lessee, at the expiration of his term. It ajDpears that the tenant was bound to keep the tenements in repair to a certain degree but not to deliver them up as new. He was not therefore bound to use new materials, but only to leave the house as good, as it would havQ^ been, had no accidents happened, and the co- verings been properly attended to. All there- fore the lessor can claim, is a sum sufficient to enable him to effect this purpose. That the les- see had an opportunity of doing it at a cheaper rate than the lessor, is of no consequence, as by permitting the term to expire, he has lost that opportunity: nor is it of any consequence to the tenant, whether the money so demanded is ap- plied, or intended to be applied, to the repair of the tenement ; or indeed whether the tene- ment be in a situation in which it can be repair- ed with advantage ; he was bound to give up, at a certain time, something of a certain value, and it that thing be of less value than it ought to have been, it is just, that he should pay the difference. But as it is not easy to decide what is the market price of old materials, it becomes neces- sary to refer to that of new, as a standard ; and as the claim of the lessor is greater in proportion DILAPIDATIONS. 135 as the premises have had less wear, it will not be just always to preserve the same proportions. If, for instance, a new house have been leased for six years, the owner may reasonably expect that no part of it should be much the worse for wear; whereas if it had been leased for sixty- six years, a considerable general decay must ne- cessarily have taken place. Thus much must be left, ultimately, for the judgement of the surveyor; but I think' that hardly any case could justify a demand of more than three- fourths of the new value, and that none would occur, in which one-fourth might not be fairly demanded. A covenant to leave the house in as good a plight at the end of the term, as when the lease was made, appears to be no stronger than a common repairing lease.* I now come to explain what are, and what are not, subject to dilapidations. It is evident, that whatever the tenant has power to remove during the term, cannot be justly chargeable with dilapidations ; for if it be acknowledged, that by leaving them at the end of the term he relinquished his right to them, yet the claim of him i reversion can only take place at the time they are so left, and he must take them such as K 4- they t Woodfall 325 Fita Abr. T. cov.it f. 42 Esp. R. 5Q0, 136 J. WOODS, ON they are, as a gift from the tenant. If, there- fore, we can ascertain, w'liat may or may not be moved, we shall also ascertain, what are, and what are not, subject to claims for dilapidations. The old rule is, that whatever is built upon the ground, or affixed to the building, are fixtures ; and I believe it will be best to consider this as the rule now, and to enumerate the excep- tions. All that the tenant received from the lessor, he is certainly bound to restore in as good a plight as may be ; all that he builds, or puts up himself, that is fixed, he is also bound to yield up in good condition, to the lessor. But over what is not fixed, the lessor has no claim : thus the lessee may erect barns, or sheds, or any building, Vpon wooden blocks laying upon the surface of the ground, and take them down if he pleases without putting up any thing else in the place ; but if the barns are fixed into the ground, they become the property of the lessor. The first exception is, that all buildings erected for the purposes of trade are removable ; thus not only ovens and coppers may be taken away, but workshops and manufactories may be removed, provided they were erected for that purpose merely. This exception seems at first only to have been in favour of wooden buildings ; but Lord Kenyon observed, in the case hereafter men-. dilapidations. 137 mentioned, that a brick chimney would not prevent a tenant from removing a building, and decided that its being on a brick foundation would not do it ; and though his opinion was not followed by Lord Ellenborough, yet that Judge did not decide on the cause before him, that the tenant had no right to remove the buildings, because they were of brick, which was the case, but because they were erected for the purposes of agriculture, and not for those of trade. In the case alluded to as decided by Lord Kenyon, the tenant was permitted to take away the buildings he had erected for the purposes of agriculture, though there was an express clause in the lease, that all buildings made by the tenant should be left at the expiration of the term. But it is to be observed, that though the subject was agriculture Lord Kenyon talked of nothing but trade, not attending to the distinction maintained by former and subsequent judges ; and his opinion was in consequence neglected by Lord Ellenborough, in the decision of an after case of the same nature, who observed, at the same time, that the cause just mentioned had not undergone the subsequent review of Lord Kenyon and the rest of the Court.* But as it is, perhaps, impossible to * In a case lately tried at Guilford, before Judge Grose, The City of London v. Varnham, an attempt was made to establish a 13S 1 W00t)S, to draw any exact line between the purposes af agriculture and those of trade, as the barns of the farmer are as much intended to keep the corn for sale, as the warehouses of the merchant, it is not to be wondered at, if the decisions are not always consistent in this point. Th is is the only exception with regard to buildings ; but of what are called fixtures, many are now permitted to be taken away, which were formerly considered to make a part of the house. Marble chimney-pieces maybe removed, and partitions, and even w^ainscotting, if it have been put up with screws. It is to be remem- bered, that in all cases the lessee is obliged to leave the premises in as good condition as if his improvements had never taken place ; thus if he pull down a w'oodcn chimney-piece and put up a difference between buildings which could be used only for the purposes of trade, and those which, though built and used for trade were yet convertible to the purposes of agriculture. Varnham had erected and removed buildings of both descriptions, to the value of ^1400, of which those which might be used as barns or granaries were estimated at^'lOOO, and for this sum the action was brought j but though the amount was not disputed, the Jury gave a verdict for only ^^300 : thus fluctuating between two opinions, and deciding in a manner irreconcilable with either. I have not however, complete confidence in my authority as to particulars, and there may perhaps be some important inaccuracy in this state- ment. At any rate, so arbritary a distinction, and an inconsequent verdict, can hardly be pleaded as a rule for future decisions. DILAPIDATIONS. 139 a marble one, he is bound, on taking the latter away, to replace the former, or one of equal value ; if he put up a partition and take it away again, he must repair any damages which the adjacent work may have suffered by that means ; and with this restriction, I believe, almost all fixtures may be removed during tbe term, unless there are express covenants to the contrary. J. Woods, Jun. JFi'nfg* Printed by Cox, Son, and Baylis, No. 75, Great Queen Street. Plate. 1 Plate, 5 ESSAYS OF THE ILONBON 1 MCMITECTUR^L SOCIETY. WITH FOUR PLATES. PART THE SECOND. PUBLISHED BY ORDER. London i SOLD BY J. TAYLOR, AT THE ARCHITECTURAL LIBRARY, NO. 59, HIGH HOLBORN. 1810 . Printed by Cox, Son, and Baylis, Great Queen Street, Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, London. ADVERTISEMENT. The members of the London Ar- chitectural Society are happy to offer to the public a second volume of their Essays, which they hope will not be found unworthy of its approbation. It was their intention to engrave a . Selection of Designs, but the great expence of the undertaking has at present deterred them, and they have contented themselves with the publication of Mr. Aikin’s interesting comparison of the Grecian Dorics, in imperial folio. v Every lover of architecture heard with pleasure of the recommencement of ii ADVERTISEMENT. of the lectures on that subject at the Royal Academy, and felt the disap- pointment of their sudden interrup- tion. Though deeply sensible of their own deficiencies, the members of this Society have determined to give a few lectures on the subject in the course of the ensuing winter. May, 1810 . AN ESSAY ON MODERN THEORIES OF TASTE. By JOSEPH WOODS, Jun. Read 1808 . My object in this essay, is to bring together in one view, what has been said by different authors on the subject of taste, especially as applicable to buildings ; and to point out as far as it is in my pbwer, the merits and errors of each. - .The plan therefore I have adopted, is to examine these authors one by one ; to give a general outline of the system of each, and of the argument by which it is supported ; to enter more into detail, on its application to build- ings ; and to note the principal objections which have occurred to me. The first author I shall notice, is Hogarth ; who, in his Anali/sis of Beautyt seems to think that in a certain curved line he has discovered an infallible nostrum for the production of B graceful J. WOODS, graceful forms. The chain of reasoning is not very clearly made out; but his chief positions are, that the sources of beauty are fitness, va- riety, uniformity, simplicity, intricacy, and quantity. The first of these has nothing to do with his theory, for he does not plead the fit- ness of his magic line ; and as it may be of any length, quantity does not properly come into the discussion. The four that remain may be reduced to two, variety and simplicity ; by the just union of which, perfection is attained. The following is the outline of his argument. “ That variety is beautiful, may be fairly concluded from the great variety of nature in the ornamental part of the creation. The di- versified shapes and colours of many flowers, shells, and insects, seem of little other use than to entertain the eye with the pleasures of variety. The hair of the head too, pleases by the va- riety and intricacy of its forms ; it also serves to shew the advantages of simplicity; as when wisped and matted together it makes a most disagreeable figure. “ To uniformity, the author is not inclined to attribute much effect in the production of beauty ; and considers it rather as pleasing by conveying ideas of fitness or utility, than from any Oisr THEORIES OF TASTE. '' S any merits of its own. And the chief advan- tage of simplicity, is that it kicreases variety ; for the head of hair when wisped and matted together, no longer presents any of the varied masses into which it is otherwise disposed, but is every where the same ; and every surface too much ornamented, loses its variety when the whole is to be taken in at one view* “ In applying these principles to lines, it is to be observed, that strait lines vary only in length, and therefore are least ornamental. “ That curved lines, as they can be varied in their degrees of curvature, as well as length, begin on that account to be ornamental. That strait and curved lines joined, being a compound line* vary more than curves alone, and so become somewhat more ornamental. “ That the waving line, or line of beauty, varying still more, being composed of two curves contrasted, becomes still more ornamen- tal and pleasing. “ And that the serpentine line, by its waving and winding at the same time different ways, (so that it cannot be expressed on a plain sur- face) leads the eye in a pleasing manner along the, continuity of its variety.” As far as these ex- tracts proceed, the work is ingenious ; and per- B 2 haps 4 J. WOODS, haps most people will agree with the author, as to his principles, though they may occasion- ally differ in detail ; and especially may not be willing to make beauty so wholly dependant on variety : but in his determination of particular lines of beauty and grace, he will have few followers, as he has no argument; and indeed the subject is incapable of any argument except what is drawn from forms of acknowledged beauty. That such lines are exliibited in the most admired statues of antiquity, is all that can be said in favor of the hypothesis ; and though this is certainly a great deal, it is far too little to establish a general rule to be applied to all sorts of objects. The next writer to whom I wish to draw your attention is Burke ; whose brilliant ima- gination, and impressive style, seem to have been able to direct the current of popular opi- nion, and to persuade following writers, even of great eminence, to take things for granted, which have no foundation in truth or nature ; and which, even in his inimitable book, have scarcely the shadow of an argument to support them. He divides the pleasing objects of sight into two classes, the sublime and the beauti- ful ; the latter are small and weak, smooth and gently ON THEORIES OF TASTE. gently varied, and act by relaxing the fibres ; the former are large and strong, with abrupt variations, and act by bracing the fibres. These feelings it seems to me evidently impossi- ble to unite ; whatever is added of beautiful to the sublime, can only act by diminishing its sublimity, without exciting any idea of beau- ty, till that of the sublime is lost ; when the two powers being exactly balanced, no effect w’hatever is produced. Then, if instead of ad- ding more beauty, we take away what was calculated to produce sublime ideas, we shall, by degrees, obtain the ideas of beauty. This conclusion is in some degree acknow- ledged by the author, but by no means to its full extent ; though it appears so clear a deduc- tion from his theory, that it must stand or fall with it ; and this argument alone, is sufficient to prove some considerable defect or oversight in his system. The introduction is very properly occupied by proofs, that taste is not mere whim, but a natural and rational preference ; and in endeavouring to shew that it principally depends on a cultivated judgment. “ There is so continual a call for the exer- cise of the reasoning faculty, and it is so much strengthened by perpetual contention, that certain 6 J. WOODS, certain maxims of right and wrong, seem to be settled among the most ignorant. If taste has not been so happily cultivated, it was not that the subject was barren, but that the labour- ers were few and negligent ; for to say the truth, there are not the same interesting motives, to impel us to fix the one, which urge us to ascer- tain the other; yet still there is enough to prove the existence of fixed principles of taste, as well as of justice. All men are agreed in calling vinegar sour, honey sweet, and aloes bitter; and they concur in calling sweetness pleasant, and sourness and bitterness unpleasant : a sour temper, bitter curses, a bitter fate, are terms well and strongly understood by all. Custom, and some other causes, have made many devia- tions from the natural pleasures and pains which belong to these several tastes ; but then the power of distinguishing between the natural, and the acquired relish, remains to the very last ; so that when it is said, taste cannot be disputed, it can only mean, that no one can strictly an- swer, what pleasure or pain some particular man may find from the taste of some particular thing. I believe that nothing beautiful was ever shewn to an hundred people, that they did not all immediately agree that it was beautiful ; though some ON THEORIES OF TASTE. " some might have thought that it fell short of their expectation, or that other things were still finer. No man thinks a goose to be more beautiful than a swan, or that a Friesland hen excels a peacock. As in the works of art, the pleasure of resemblance is that which principally flatters the imagination, all men are nearly equal in this point, as far as their knowledge of the things represented or compared extends ; and it is from this difference of knowledge, that what we commonly, butwith no great exactness, call a diflerence of taste, proceeds. A man sees some ordinary piece of statuary, he is immedi- ately struck and pleased, because he sees some- thing of a human figure, and occupied with the likeness does not attend to its defects ; af- terwards, accustomed to more artificial works of the same nature, he looks with contempt on what he admired at first. Here, then, his knowledge is improved, his taste is not altered ; and perhaps he may stop here, and the master- piece of a great hand may please him no more than a middling performance ; and this not for want of a better or higher relish, but because all men do not observe with sufficient accuracy on the human figure, to enable them to judge properly 8 J. WOODS, properly of an imitation of it.’^ We now pro- , ceeci to the body of the work. The passions,” says Burke, “ which belong to self-preservation, turn oil pain and danger ; they are simply painful, when their causes immediately affect us ; they are delight- ful, when we have an idea of pain and danger, without being actually in such circumstances ; this delight I have not called pleasure, because it turns on pain, and because it is different enough from any idea of positive pleasure. Whatever excites this delight, I call sublime. ** The second head to which the passions are referred, with relation to their final cause, is society. There are two sorts of societies ; the first is the society of sex ; the passion which belongs to this, is called love, and it contains a mixture of lust ; its object is the beauty of wo- men. The other, is the great society with men, and all other animals ; the passion subservient to this, is likewise called love; but it has no mixture of Ipst, and its object is beauty ; which name I shall apply to all such qualities in things as induce in us a sense of affection and tender- ness, or some^ other passion the most nearly lesembling these. The passion of love has its rise in positive pleasure ; it is like all things which ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 9 which grow out of pleasure, capable of being mixed with a mode of uneasiness ; that is, when an idea of its object is excited in the mind, with an idea, at the same time, of its being irretrie- vably lost. This mixed sense of pleasure, I have not called pain ; because it turns upon ac- tual pleasure, and because it is, both in its cause, and most of its effects, of a nature altogether different. ** The passion caused by the great and sublime in nature, when those causes operate most powerfully, is astonishment ; and astonish- ment is that state of the soul, in which all its motions are suspended, with some degree of horror. In this case, the mind is so entirely filled with its object, that it cannot entertain any other ; nor, by consequence, reason on that ob- ject which employs it. Hence arises the great power of the sublime, that far from being pro- duced by them, it anticipates our reasonings, and hurries us on by an irresistible force ; asto- tonishment, as I have said, is the effect of the sublime in its highest degree; the inferior effects are admiration, reverence, and respect. “ No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning, as fear ; for fear being an apprehension of pain, or 10 J. WOODS, or death, it operates in a manner that resembles absolute pain. Whatever, therefore, is terrible, is sublime too ; and, indeed, terror is in all cases, either more openly or latently, the ru- ling principles of the sublime. Several langua- ges bear testimony to the affinity of these ideas; Goilji.^os is in Greek either fear or wonder ; cii^so to reverence of to fear; vercor is in Latin, what is in Greek ; the word siupeo, strongly expresses the effect either of fear or astonishment ; and attonitus,^ equally marks the alliance of these ideas : and in French etonne” menty and in English asionishmenty clearly point out the kindred emotions which attend fear and wonder, ‘‘ Power, derives all its sublimit^^from the terror with which it is accompanied ; as will appear evidently, from its effects in the very few cases in which it may be possible to strip a considerable degree of strength, of its ability to hurt ; when you do this, you spoil it of every thing sublime, and it immediately becomes contemptible. An ox is a creature of vast strength, but he is an innocent creature, ex- tremely serviceable, and not at all dangerous ; for which reason, the idea of an ox is by no means grand, A bull is strong too, but his strength ON THEORIES OF TASTE, 11 strength is of another kind, often very destruc- tive, seldom, at least among us, of any use in our business ; the idea of a bull is therefore great, and it has frequently a place in sublime descriptions and elevated comparisons. ** We have continually about us, animals of a strength that is considerable, but not per- nicious, among these, we never look for the sublime ; it comes upon us in the gloomy fo- rest, and in the holwing wilderness, in the form of the lion, the tyger, the panther, or the rhinoceros. Fear excites the nerves to strong action, and strains their fibres to the ut- most ; hence circumstances not terrible, may be sublime, because they act in the same man- ner; the incessant repetitions of rays of light acting exactly in the same mode, from an ex- tended surface, stimulates in a high degree the optic nerve, and produces an emotion, properly called sublime; and the same effect is produced by a succession of uniform objects ; but if the objects are not uniform, a difference takes place in the mode of action, which rests the organ, and prevents the full effects of the sublime. Darkness is also sublime, the same effects being produced on the nerve by the efforts made to see.’* Having i‘2 J. WOODS, Having thus traced the causes of the sub- lime, Burke proceeds to investigate those of beauty ; but before supporting his own opinion on this subject, he thinks it necessary to refute some common notions on this point. Proportion has been deemed one of the constituents of beauty ; but if it be so, it must derive that power either from some natural pro- perties inherent in certain measures, from the operation of custom, or from an appearance of fitness. If it be inherent, the same proportions ought to be found in all beautiful objects ; and wherever such proportions occur, the object should be beautiful ; neither of these are true. The rose is a large flower, yet it grows upon a small shrub ; the flower of the apple is small, and grows upon a large tree ; the swan, con- fessedly a beautiful bird, has a neck longer than the rest of the body, and but a very short tail ; the neck of the peacock is comparatively short, while the tail is longer than that and the body taken together. In the human species, pro- portions have been assigned to the different parts, which are indeed to be found in many beautiful objects ; but they arc also to be met with in many ugly ones, as any who will take the pains to ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 13 to try, will find ; nay, they are perhaps least perfect, in some of the most beautiful. “ Custom is by no means a source of plea- sure ; for as it takes off the painful effect of many things, it reduces the pleasurable effect of others in the same manner, and brings both to a sort of mediocrity or indifference ; neither can fitness be properly reckoned among the causes of beauty, for on that prineiple, the wedge-iike snout of a swine with its tough car- tilage at the end, the little sunk eyes, and the whole make of the head, so well adapted to its office of digging and routing, would be ex- tremely beautiful; the great bag hanging to the neck of the pelican, a thing highly useful to this animal, would be likewise beautiful in our eyes. The effect of proportion and fitness, , at least so far as they proceed from a mere consideration of the work itself, is to produce approbation, the acquiescence of the under- standing, but not love, nor any passion of that species.” Burke has rather assumed that beauty is that which produces love, as a definition, than introduced it as a theorem which he had to support. The appearance of beauty, he tells us, as effectually causes some degree of love in us. 14 j. Woods, us, as the application of ice or fire, produces the ideas of heat or cold ; this surely required to be proved ; we will, however, pass on with him to the consideration of the circumstances which produce beauty, or which is the same thing, excite love. “ In most languages, the objects of love are spoken of under diminutive epithets ; in Greek, the im and other diminu* lives, are almost always the terms of affection and tenderness ; and the Romans naturally slid into the lessening termination on the same occa- sions. Anciently, in the English language, the diminishing ling was added to the names of persons or things that were the objects of love ; some we retain still, as darling or little dear, and a few others : a great beautiful thing, is a man- ner of expression scarcely ever used ; but that of a great ugly thing is very common. ‘‘ Smoothness is a property so essential to beauty, that the author cannot recollect any beautiful object which is not smooth ; smooth leaves, smooth streams, smooth skins, and in ornamental furniture, polished surfaces, all owe a considerable part of their beauty to this qua- lity. Gradual variation too, will be almost always found in the mo^t beautiful objects ; such as the forms of the finest birds ; but it is more / ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 15 more strikingly shewn about the neck and breasts, that is, in the most beautiful parts, of a beautiful woman. An appearance of deli- cacy, and even of fragility, is almost essential to beauty ; it is not the oak, the ash, or the elm, that we consider as beautiful ; they are awful and majestic ; it is the myrtle, the jasmine, and the vine, and the tender flowers, that are looked upon as vegetable beauties. Among animals, the greyhound is more beautiful than the mas- tiff; the Barb or the Arabian than the war horse. The beauty of women is considerably owing to their weakness or delicacy ; and of this they are so conscious, that they learn to lisp, to totter in their walk, and to counterfeit weakness, and even sickness : I would not here, be understood to say, that weakness betraying very bad health, is conducive to beauty ; be- cause this alters the other conditions of beauty, the bright colour, the lumen pur pur eum juventdd is gone, and the fine variation is lost in wrinkles. If then, we compare the beautiful with the sublime, we shall find a remarkable con- trast : sublime objects are vast in their dimen- sions ; beautiful ones comparatively small. Beauty should be smooth and polished ; the great, rugged and negligent : beauty should shun 16 J. WOODS, shun the right line, yet deviate from it insen- sibly ; the great, in many cases, loves the right line, and when it deviates,' it often makes a strong deviation. Beauty should not be obscure, the great ought to be dark and gloomy ; beauty should be light and delicate, the great ought to be solid, and even massive ; they are, indeed, ideas of a very different nature, the one being founded on pain, the other on pleasure.’^ I believe it will be sufficient merely to mention that part of the work, in which the author endeavours to explain mechanically, the mode of action by which certain objects excite ideas of beauty and sublimity. '' Fear, like pain, contracts the nerves, and excites in them, a violent emotion, as is shewn by the attitude and change of features, of men suffering the one or the other ; love, as is shewn by the same circumstances, relaxes them, and a degree of relaxation below the natural tone, seems to be the cause of all posi- tive pleasure. Who is a stranger to that manner of expression, so common in all climes and countries, of being softened, relaxed, enerva- ted, dissolved, melted away, by pleasure ? The universal voice of mankind, faithful to their feelings, concurs in affirming this uniform and ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 17 and general effect.” — On architecture Burke makes the following observations. “ It is in a sort of artificial infinity, that we are to look for the cause why a rotund has such a noble effect, for in this, whether it be a building or plantation you can no where fix a boundary : turn which way you will, the same object seems to continue, and the imagination has no rest. But the parts must be uniform, as well as circularly disposed, to give this figure its full force, because any difference, whether it be in the disposition, or in the figure, or even in the colour of the parts, is highly prejudicial to the idea of infinity, which every change must check, and interrupt ; at every alteration commencing a new series. On the same prin- ciple of succession, and uniformity, the grand appearance of the ancient temples, which were generally oblong forms, with a range of uni- form pillars on every side, will be easily ac- counted for. From the same cause also may be derived the grand effect of the aisles in many of our old cathedrals. The form of a cross, used in some churches, seems not to me so eligible as the parallellogram of the ancients ; at least I imagine it not so proper for the out- side ; for supposing the arms of the cross every C * way 18 J. WOODS, way equal ; if you stand in a direction parallel to any of the side walls or colonnades, instead of a deception that makes the building more ex- tended than it really is, you are cut off from a considerable part (two-thirds) of its actual length ; and to prevent all possibility of progression, the arms of the cross, taking a new direction, make a right angle with the beam, and thereby wholly turn the imagination from the repetition of the former idea. Or suppose the spectator placed where he might take a direct view of such a building, what will be the consequence ? the necessary consequence will be, that a good part of the basis of each angle formed by the inter- section of the arms of the cross must be inevi- tably lost ; the whole of course assume a broken unconnected figure ; the lights must be unequal, here strong, there weak, without that noble gradation which the perspective always effects on parts disposed uninterruptedly in aright line; fiome or all of these objections will be against every figure of a cross, in whatever view you take it; I have exemplified them in the Greek cross, in which these faults appear most strongly, but they appear in some degree in all sorts of crosses ; indeed there is nothing more prejudi- cial to the grandeur of buildings, than to abound in ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 19 in angles — a fault obvious in many, and owing to an inordinate thirst for variety, which where* ever it prevails is sure to leave very little true taste. Too great length in building destroys the purposes of greatness, it was intended to pro- mote ; the perspective will lessen in height as it gains in length, and will bring it at last to a point, turning the whole figure into a sort of triangle, the poorest in its effects of almost any figure that can be presented to the eye. I have ever observed, that colonnades, and avenues of trees, of a moderate length, were without com- parison far grander than when they were suf* fered to run to immense distances.” It is remarkable that in the application of his principles to architecture, Burke accounts for the sublimity of buildings, but not for their beauty : this deficiency has been supplied by Uvedale Price, in a manner which I think Burke himself would readily acknowledge. “No building is more universally admired for its beauty, says Mr. Price, than the temple of the Sybil at Tivoli, and none agrees more closely with the qualities assigned by Mr. Burke j^o the beautiful. It is circular, surrounded with columns detached from the body of the build- C 2 ing» 20 J. WOODS, ing, it is light and airy, of a delicate frame, in a great measure free from angles, and compara^ tively small. As a further proof of its beauty, it may be remarked that Claude has repeated it much more frequently in his landscapes, than any other building.’' Having now given I believe a fair and correct statement of Mr. Burke’s theory, and the leading arguments in its support, I shall endeavour to point out a few objections that may be or have been made to it ; what I have already said is I think sufficient to shew, that however the sublime and beautiful may differ, they are not such direct opposites as Mr. Burke repre- sents them, for we have all probably felt, that the sublime and beautiful may be united in a very high degree, without producing insipidity. As for the author’s graduated scale of the sublime, from respect to astonishment, it cannot perhaps be better illustrated than by applying it to his own character. He was certainly a very respectable man, and reverenced by all who knew him intimate- ly.- * The following observations on Mr. Burke’s theory are principally copied from Knight’s Analysis of Taste. ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 21 ly. At one period of his life, too, when he became the disinterested patron of remote and injured nations, who had none to help them, his character was truly sublime : but unless upon those whom he so ably and eloquently arraigned, I do not believe that it impressed any awe. If during this period he had suddenly ap- peared among the managers in Westminster Hall without his wig and coat ; or had walked up St. James’s Street without his breeches, it would have occasioned great and universal as- tonishment; and if he had at the same time carried a loaded blunderbuss in his hands, the astonishment would have been mixed with no small portion of terror : but I do not believe that the united effects of these two powerful passions would have produced any sentiment or sensation approaching sublime, even in the breasts of those who had the strongest sense of self-preservation, and the quickest sensibility of danger. That terror is not the source of the sublime, may be deduced from the following consi- derations. As far as feeling or sentiment is concerned, and it is of feeling and sentiment only that we are speaking, that alone is terrible which impresses some degree of fear. I may C 3 know 22 J. WOODS, know an object to be terrible ; that is, I may know it to possess the power of hurting or des- troying ; but this is knowledge, and not feeling or sentiment ; and the object of that knowledge is power, and not terror. That alone is actually terrible to me which actually impresses me with fear ; for though I may know'it to be dangerous when I am beyond its reach, I cannot feel that sentiment which danger inspires till I either am or imagine myself to be within it ; and as all agree that the effect of the sublime upon the mind is a sentiment of feeling, and not a result of science, it follows that I cannot feel the sub- lime till I experience a passion, which Mr. Burke himself acknowledges would totally des- troy it. I neither feel the character of Nero or Caligula to be sublime, now I am out of their power, nor should I have felt it so had T been in ever so much personal danger from them. While the character of Cato, who had compara- tively neither the power or the inclination to do mischief, is truly sublime. There is no image in poetry wrought up with more true sublimity and grandeur, than the following of Virgil ; but that it should be quoted as an instance of terror being the cause of the sublime, is to me most unaccountable. Ipse pater. ON THEORIES OF TASTE. , 23 Ipse pater, media nimborum in nocte, corusca Fulmina molitur dextra ; quo maxima motu Terra tremit, fugere fera : et mortalia corda Per gentes humilis stravit pavor. If sublimily is here in any degree the re- sult of terror, the poet must have very ill un- derstood the effect of his own imagery : for he expressly tells us, that the effect of this dreadful explosion of thunder and lightning, upon those who felt it was humble fear ; and surely he could not, by humble feav^ mean any ^ublime senti- ment; the description, indeed, impresses us with such sentiments, because we sympathize with the vast, and energetic power displayed, and feel no terror whatever ; but those who witness- ed the reality, and did feel terror, felt the ef- fects of it as the poet has stated them, to be humble, and depressing, instead of elevating and expansive. AVhether vast objects be acknowledged sublime or not, I apprehend Burke s mode of accounting for it cannot possibly be adopted. He supposed it to arise from the number of rays which they emit, crouding into the eye in quick succession, and producing a degree of tension in the membrane of the retina,— and this ‘‘ approaching nearly to the C 4 nature 24 J. WOODS, ** nature of what causes pain, must,’* in his own words, produce an idea of the sublime ; ” but the slightest reflection might have convinced him, that the sheet of paper on w'hich he was writing, being seen thus close to the eye, re- flected a greater and more forcible mass of light ; and consequently produced more irritation and tension than the Peak of Tenerifle, or Mount St. Elias would, if seen at the distance of a few miles. If we turn to Burke’s mode of accountins: for the beautiful, we shall, I believe, find it near- ly equally open to objections. It may perhaps be allowed, that the effect of beauty is to excite love, though even then some modifications, I think, might be insisted on ; but love may cer- tainly subsist without beauty, as I believe we should all think it< strange to be told, that we could not possibly love a friend, or even a dog, because he was not handsome. It may indeed be contended, that w'e love them for qualities analogous to beauty, ** for the soft green of the soul but supposing it to be the fact, (which will, I believe, not be found to be the case) that we love our friends in proportion as they pos- sess this easiness of temper, still the love of parents to idiot children, is an anomaly not to be ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 25 be accounted for on this system. From what other source this may arise is nothing to me, all I contend for is, that it does not arise from any beauty, either of mind or body, and that there- fore to prove any quality, weakness for instance, to be a source of love, (which it certainly may sometimes be) is not to prove it at the same time a source of beauty. That weakness is a source of beauty seems so strange a position, that one hardly knows how to set about to controvert it. If a greyr hound is weaker than a mastiff, it is both larger and stronger than a pug-dog ; and an horse is universally esteemed more beautiful than an ass, and a swan than a goose. Here then the ad- vantage is decidedly in favor of the largest and strongest animal ; and if diminutives are in all languages terms of endearment, it is because they are the terms naturally applied by parents to their children ; but if we join the diminutive to a term which precludes all such affection, it immediately converts it into a term of con- tempt : — bantling, fondling, darling, are terms of endearment; witling, changeling, lordling, of scorn. In French, mon petit enfant, is an expression of tenderness ; mon petit monsieur, of the most pointed contempt. With 26 J. WOODS, With respect to smoothness and variation which are the other chief sources of beauty, we may observe, that the effect of ornament is to change smooth surfaces into rough ones ; a frieze quite plain is quite smooth, ornament it and it is so no longer. A Corinthian capital is generally esteemed beautiful^ and yet it abounds with sudden and angular deviations, and these which in theory ought to injure at least, if not destroy the character of beauty, are evidently introduced to heighten, and do, I believe, in the general estimation of mankind, really heighten it ; for a capital of mere waving lines would, I fancy, have few admirers or lovers. Indeed it is always considered as a merit in mere ornaments that they are sharp, that is, that the variations of their surface are abrupt and angular. The appearances of reason and philosophy which Alison’s Essays contain, and the reputa- tion they have acquired amongst men of talents and reflection, will induce me to pay more at- tention to them than I should have done from my own opinion of their merits. He acknow- ledges with Burke the distinction of the sub- lime from the beautiful, and adopts from him in general the sources whence they proceed, but rejects what that author calls ** the efficient causes,” ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 27 causes,” and endeavours in another way to ex- plain why these circumstances excite in the mind the emotions of taste. ** Whenever,” says he, “ the emotions of sublimity or beauty are felt, that exercise of the imagination is produced which consists in the indulgence of a train of thought. When this exercise is prevented, these emotions are unfelt or un perceived ; and whatsoever tends to increase this exercise of mind, tends in the same proportion to increase these emotions. If these positions are just, it seems reasonable to conclude, that the effect produced upon the mind by objects of sublimity and beauty, consists in the production of this exercise of the imagination. “ This conclusion is however in itself too general to be considered as a sufficient account of the nature of that operation of the mind, which takes place in the case of such emotions. There are many trains of ideas of which we are conscious which are unattended with any kind of pleasure. If therefore some train of thought, or some exercise of the imagination, is necessary for the production of the emotions of taste, it is obvious that this is not every train of thought of which we are capable. To as- certain 28 J. WOODS, certain therefore with any precision, either the nature, or causes of these emotions, it is pre- viously necessary to investigate the nature of those trains of thought, that are produced by objects of sublimity or beauty, and their differ- ence from those ordinary trains, which are un- accompanied by such pleasure. This difference appears to consist in two things ; 1st. the nature of the ideas or conceptions which compose such trains ; and 2dly. the nature or law of their suc- cession. “ Those trains of thought which are sug- gested by objects of sublimity or beauty, are in all cases composed of ideas capable of exciting some affection or emotion ; so that not only the whole succession is accompanied with that peculiar emotion, which we call the emotion of beauty or sublimity, but every individual idea of such a succession, is in itself productive of some simple emotion or other. Thus the ideas excited by the scenery of spring, are ideas productive of emotions of cheerfulness, of glad- ness, and of tenderness; the images suggested by the prospect of ruins, are images belonging to pity, melancholy, and to admiration. I he ideas awakened by the view of the Ocean in a storm, ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 29 storm, are ideas of power, of majesty, and of terror. These ideas may be called ideas of emotion. “ The first circumstance, then, which dis- tinguishes those trains of thought, which are produced by objects either of sublimity or beau- ty, is that the ideas or conceptions of which they are composed, are ideas of emotion. “ In those trains which are suggested by objects of sublimity or beauty, however slight the connection between individual thoughts may be, it will be found that there is always some general principle of connection, which per- vades the whole, and gives them some certain and definite character. They are either gay, or pathetic, or melancholy, or solemn, or aw- ful; according to the nature of the emotion that is first excited. These trains of thought are therefore distinguished, 2dly. by their having some general principle of connection, which subsists through the whole extent of the train. Thus it appears we shall have to establish three positions: 1st. that the emotions of taste are accompanied with certain trains of ideas ; 2dly. that these ideas are all ideas of emotion ; and 3dly. that they have some common bond of^ union. ‘‘ Istly. 30 J. WOODS, Istly. When any object either of subli- mity or beauty is presented to the mind, every man is conscious of a train of thought being awakened in his imagination, analogous to the character or expression of the original object* The simple perception of the objects, we fre- quently find is insufficient to excite these emo- tions, unless it is accompanied with this opera- tion of the mind; unless, according to the common expression, our imagination is seized, and our fancy busied in the pursuit, of those trains of thought which are allied to this cha- racter or expression. “ Thus, when we feel either the beauty or sublimity of natural scenery, the gay lustre of a morning in spring, or the mild radiance of a summer’s evening, the savage majesty of a wintry storm, or the wild magnificence of a tempestuous ocean, we are conscious of a va- riety of images in our mind, very different from those which ffie objects themselves can present to the eye. Trains of pleasing, or of solemn thought, arise spontaneously within our minds; our hearts swell with emotions, of which the objects before us seem to afford us no adequate cause ; and we are never so much saltiated with delight. ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 31 delight, as when, in recalling our attention, we are unable to trace either the progress or connection of those thoughts, which have passed with so much rapidity. ** There are some familiar considerations, which seem very strongly to shew the connec- tion between this exercise of the imagination, and the existence of the emotions of sublimity or beauty. To a man in pain or grief, whose mind by those means is attentive only to one object or consideration, the same scene, or the same form, will produce no feeling of ad- miration, which, at other times, when his ima- gination was at liberty, would have produced it in its fullest perfection. There is no man who has not fell the beauty of sunset ; yet every one can remember instances, when this most striking scene had no effect at all on his imagi- nation. A beautiful poem may be read some- times with perfect indifference ; while, in other moments, the first lines we meet with take possession of our imagination, and awaken in us such innumerable trains of imagery, as al- most leave behind the fancy of the poet. The same thing is observable in criticism ; when we sit 32 J. WOODS, sit down to appreciate the value of a poem, or of a painting, and attend minutely to the lan- guage or composition of the one, or to the colouring or design of the other, we feel no longer the delight they at first produced ; our imagination in this employment is restrained, and instead of yielding to its suggestions, we studiously endeavour to resist them, by fixing our attention upon minute and partial circum- stances in the composition.” Perhaps I shall be better understood, if I venture to make a few remarks on this first po- sition, before proceeding to the second, than if I reserve them all to the end. It is almost as difficult to prove a circumstance of this sort, which depends so much on individual feeling, as to prove a colour to be blue or yellow, to one who chuses to deny it : and Alison cer- tainly has not effected his purpose ; for, a man in pain or grief, or whose mind is in any way strongly occupied, is insensible to pleasing sensations, as well as to the emotions of taste. In endeavouring to ascertain the truth or falsity of such a position, it is natural to begin by examining, as closely as We are able, what passes in our own minds on these occasions : to this I have attended, and as far as my own expe- rience ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 33 rience goes, I feel myself justified iii contra- dicting Alison’s theory. I do not mean to deny the existence of all association in the produc- tion of the emotions of taste, nor to assert that such trains of ideas as he describes, are unac- companied with pleasure ; all I contend for, is, that the pleasures of taste do not depend on such trains ; because its emotions may, and often do, subsist without them. But, though, if we deny the existence of such trains of ideas, we cannot consistently reason on the nature of the ideas themselves, or on that of their con- nection ; yet, we may still allow, that each part of a composition ought to be calculated to excite emotion, and that of one uniform cha- racter; which is the subject of the two follow- ing propositions, to which I now proceed. " 2dly, Various observations may be ad- duced, to prove that the trains of ideas exci- ting the emotions of taste, must consist of ideas of emotion ; some affection must be excited by the presence of an object, before the mor* complete emotion is felt, and if no such affec- tion is excited, no emotion of sublimity or beauty is produced. ** There is, undoubtedly, a very great D difference 34 J. WOODS, difference between the emotion of taste, and any simple emotion ; as of cheerfulness, tender- ness, melancholy, solemnity, elevation, terror, &c. ; as such emotions are frequently felt with- out any sentiment of sublimity or beauty ; but there is no case where the emotions of taste are felt, without the previous production of some such simple emotion. In the man of business, who has passed his life in studying the means of accumulating wealth, the prospect of any beautiful scene in nature, would induce no other idea than that of its value ; in the philosopher, whose years have been employed in the investigation of causes, it would lead only to speculations upon the sources of the beauty that was ascribed to it; in neither, would it excite an emotion which might serve as the foundation of this exercise of the imagination. “ When a man of taste settles in a roman- tic country, the aspect in which he sees its beauties, is that in which they are calculated to produce emotion. The streams are known to him by their gentleness, or their majesty ; the woods by their solemnity ; the rocks by their awfulness or terror : in a very short time, he is forced ON THEORIES OF TASTE. S5 forced to consider them in very different lights ; they serve as distinctions of different properties, boundaries, and as landmarks ; it is with re- spect to these, that he will usually hear them spoken of, and in this light he must often think and speak of them himself; and unless when particular incidents have awakened that tone and temper of thought with which their ex- pressions agree, they can no longer excite in him the emotions of taste. In the same man- ner, the great and opulent become indifferent to the articles of elegance or magnificence, with which they are surrounded ; they become associated with various ideas of cost or use, and their beauty is no longer noticed. “ The pleasure which accompanies the emotions of taste, may be considered, not as a simple, but as a complex pleasure ; and as ari- sing, not from any separate and peculiar sense, but from the union of the pleasure of simple emotion, with that w'hich is annexed, by the constitution of the human mind, to the exer- cise of the imagination. “ 3dly, That these ideas must have some common bond of connection, that is, that they must possess unity of character, may be clearly D 2 proved S6 J. WOODS, proved. There is no man of common taste, w^ho has not often lamented that confusion of expression, which so frequently takes place, even in the beautiful scenes of real nature ; and which prevents him from indulging to the full, the peculiar emotion which the scene itself is fitted to inspire. It is in the power which the art of gardening possesses, in common with the other fine arts, of withdrawing from its imita- tions, whatever is inconsistent with their ex- pression, and of adding, whatever may con- tribute to strengthen or to extend their effect ; that the great superiority which it possesses over the originals from which it is copied consists. ** What gardening does in some degree, landscape painting can perform much more com- pletely ; and poetry has a similar advantage over painting ; and this unity of character, in the emotions intended to be produced, is at least as essential in this, as any of the three which have been so much insisted on.” Having thus endeavoured to explain in what manner beauty acts upon the mind, Ali- son proceeds to shew how the emotions of taste are excited by the objects of the material world. ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 37 world. Matter itself, may produce pleasing sensations, but not emotions ; the smell of a rose, the colour of scarlet, the taste of a pine- apple, when spoken of merely as qualities, and abstracted from the objects in which they are found, are said to produce agreeable sensations, but not agreeable emotions. In the same man- ner, the smell of assatoetida, or the taste of aloes, when spoken of as abstract qualities, are uniformly said to produce unpleasing sensations, but not unpleasing emotions ; but though they are of themselves incapable of producing emo- tion, or the exercise of any affection, yet it is ob- vious that they may produce this effect, from their association with the qualities or affections of the mind. Thus in sounds ; thunder, the mur- muring of an earthquake, the report of artil- lery, the fall of a cataract, are sublime, be- cause they are connected with ideas of power and danger ; most of them may be imitated, by means not connected with such ideas, and the sounds are then no longer sublime. The rumbling of a cart, is sometimes mistaken for distant thunder, yet , nobody thinks it sublime ; the noise of the rattle snake is very little differ- ent from that of a child’s play-thing ; the growl D 3 of 38 J. WOODS, of a tyger resembles the purring of a cat ; yet the former are sublime, the latter insignificant. In the same manner, sounds are beautiful by association ; even the song of the nightingale, so wonderfully charming in the twilight, is al- together disregarded in the day. ** Every work of design, ” observes Ali- son, “ may be considered in one or other of the following lights ; either in relation to the art or design which produced it; to the nature of its construction, for the purpose or end intend- ed ; or to the nature of the end, which it is designed to serve ; and its beauty accordingly depends, either upon the excellence or wisdom of this design ; upon the fitness or propriety of this construction ; or upon the utility of this end. The considerations of design, of fitness, and of utility, therefore, may be considered as the three great sources of the relative beauty of forms. That the quality of design is, in many cases, productive of the emotion of beauty, is too obvious to require illustration ; and the ma- terial quality most expressive to us of design, is uniformity or regularity : this, therefore, is usually pleasing ; but whenever we meet with it in nature, and know it to be the effect of ON THEORIES OF TASTE. of chance, it may be curious, but not beau- tiful, “ In the infancy of society, when art was first cultivated, and the attention of men first directed to the works of design, it is natural to' imagine, that such forms would be employed on those arts, which were intended to please, as were most strongly expressive of design or skill ; this would arise from their ignorance of those more interesting qualities, which such produc- tions ihight express; and from the peculiar va- lue which design, or art itself, in such periods possessed. What the artist would value himself upon, would be the production of a work of skill ; what the spectator would admire, would be the invention or ingenuity of the workman, vylio was capable ot imagining and executing such a work ; what the work- man therefore would study, would be to give his work as full and complete an expression of skill and design as possible ; he could, how- ever, do this in no way so surely, as by the pro- duction of uniformity ; by making choice of an attitude, in which both sides of the body were perfectly similar, and the folds of the drapery correspondent. And such are the ear- liest efforts of art in all nations. Afterwards, D 4 variety 40 J. WOODS, variety of form and attitude comes to be more strongly indicative of design and skill, than this perfect uniformity, which consequently ceases to be any longer the object of art.” In my observations on the different authors I have to notice, it is certainly my wish to state their best arguments, and not to waste your time and my own, by dwelling on those parts, which may be abandoned without materially detracting from the support of the theory. Three circumstances may, however, concur to make these writers appear in a less favourable point of view in my remarks, than in their own works ; and in none of them, perhaps, would they apply more strongly than to Alison. I had extracted a great deal of the application of his theory to the objects of sense, but they made so poor a figure, that I afterwards deter- mined to omit them. In the first place, many of his best passages would support many other theories as well as his own ; secondly, where the system is bad, it must often happen that some of the most objectionable parts, are those which exppse it most strongly ; and thirdly, from his total ignorance of even the first prin- ciples of architecture, the application of his theory ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 41 theory to that subject, is among the worst parts of his book. I think Alison has been guilty of great neglect in omitting, not only to define his words, but even to give them distinct and consistent meanings. Stronger objections may be made to some other words, than to emotion, which is the first of which I have to complain ; it is not distinguished with clearness, from passion, nor I think, even from the qualities of the mind. Of smells and tastes, as productive of emo- tions, he says nothing ; of sounds, he finds such sublime as are connected with power or danger ; divest them of these, they cease to be sublime. But if this be the case, surely it is very erroneous to call the sound sublime ; the power or danger must be sublime, not the sound, which is nothing but as it announces the presence of one or the other. He cites the forms of military weapons as sublime, but sure- ly here the sublimity has nothing to do with the form ; no one ever felt such an emotion from a pasteboard sword : if any thing relating to them is sublime, it is the destruction for which we know them to be calculated. Rocks, which are adduced as another example, may be 42 J. WOODS, be sublime, but not, on this principle, their forms — indeed, no particular form is assignable to rocks. “Magnitude,” according to Alison, “isex- pressive of vastness;” this is a wonderful discove- ry; yeta careful definition of the terms employed, would reduce many of his propositions to the same nothingness. In all, for instance, which he offers relating to the beauty of forms, the mis- use of the words delicacy and tenderness, forms his main support : if the first did not some- times mean beauty, sometimes weakness, and sometimes both united ; if the latter were not sometimes put for that which is capable of ex- citing love, sometimes for weakness, and some- times for the union of this with beauty, the whole chain of argument would fall to the ground. Besides this misuse of terms, it may fair- ly be objected to him, that he assumes what hardly any one who had ever attended to the subject would grant. It is amusing to notice the difference between him and Burke, in a case where both authors have been guilty of this fault : Burke represents all positive pleasure, as re- laxation below the natural tone ; we are filled with a pleasing languor, and indisposed to ex- ertion : 43 ON THEORIES OF^TASTE. ertion : Alison attributes the same character to pain, and assigns to pleasure, those diametri- cally opposite ; and both appeal with equal confidence to common observation. The idle fancy, of winding forms being expressive of volition, is another among the numerous instances of this fault; a river, he observes, winds, a vine wreathes itself about the elm ; but a star shoots, a stone falls, not in curved, but in straight lines ; we use the active voice, where the power is hidden, or at least not considered. The young shoots of most trees are straight, the larger branches of many, crooked and winding ; Alison asserts exactly the reverse, and endeavours to prove it a necessary condition of their beauty. Furniture he considers as beau- tiful, in proportion as it is slight and unsteady ; and instances the tripod, “ in the best periods of Roman taste,” as an excellent instance of both perfections : surely it is not necessary to examine and confute such doctrine. In architecture, be merits, if possible, still less praise ; he says that walls of the same age,, are very nearly of the same thickness ; which if he had not been blinded by affection for his theory, he must have seen to be totally false; apd 44 J. WOODS, and if true, it would not support his reasons for the beauty of buildings, as it would affect their absolute, and not their relative dimensions. That an order has nothing to do with the support of a roof, and that their entablatures are in the ratio of the strength of the column, are both false. In considering the interior of rooms, he arrives, by means of some strange assertions, at the strange conclusion, that the only defect an apartment can possibly have, arises from the apparent insufficiency of the walls to support the roof. Sir Joshua Reynolds thought that beauty was always to be looked for in the central form of each species of animal. Strictly speaking, the arguments used by him in support of his opinion, will apply to architecture, as well as to painting and sculpture ; but it is not to be imagined, that he would have maintained that edifice to be the most beautiful, which possesses the average form, as the great proportion of common buildings would make that average deviate very little from shapes not all pretend- ing to beauty ; I shall not therefore dwell on such an application of his principle ; and yet, though not perhaps exactly included in my object, lam unwilling to pass over the opinion of ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 45 of such a man without further notice. “ No man,” says he, “ can judge of the beauty or deformity of an animal, who has seen only one of the species. A man born blind, if he were suddenly to receive his sight, and to open his eyes on two women the most beautiful and the most deformed of the species, could not determine to which he should give the prefer- ence. To distinguish beauty, it is necessary to have seen many of the species, which will enable him to separate the general form, which nature always approaches, and which she seems always to intend to produce, from any acci- dental variations. The general or central form, is not only the mean form of nature's productions, but is also more common than any one other given form: and as we are more accustomed to beau- ty than to deformity, we may conclude that to be the reason why we approve and admire it. “ He who would attempt to go farther, and assign a reason why one species is more beautiful than another, must first prove that it is so; some may prefer a swan, and some a dove, and each may be able to assign reasons for his preference, without in fact any real su- periority on either side : it is custom alone determines 46 J. WOODS, our preference of the colour of Europeans to the Ethiopians ; a negro beauty would be black, with thick lips, flat nose, and woolly hair. The black and white nations must, in respect of beauty, be considered as different species.'' It will be seen, that all this is rather illus- tration, than argument : it may however be worth while to examine how far it is founded on truth. If a man born blind were, on receiv- ing his sight, to see a woman, we must ac- knowledge he could not tell whether she was beautiful or not, because by beauty we mean in some degree a comparative excellence ; when we praise a woman for her beauty, we mean that she is more beautiful than women usually are; this the blind man certainly could not tell, and if two women were placed before him, his preference might not be exactly the same as that of persons possessed of sight, as a number of associations are intimately, and per- haps inseparably, connected in our ideas of beauty, without our consciousness : but I think I shall have most men on my side, if I main- tain that he would instantly prefer beauty to deformity. We may perhaps reasonably doubt, whe- ther the central form is more common than any other ; ON THEORIES OP TASTE. 47 other ; the instance adduced by Sir Joshua of a straight ridge to the nose, is in England cer- tainly not often met with ; however the com- monness of the central form does not seem ne- cessary to the support of the theory. If Sir Joshua, in attempting to prove all species equally beautiful, had taken two, of which one in the common language of man- kind is called beautiful, and the other ugly ; if instead of the swan and the dove, he had taken the swan and the goose, I think he would have found himself obliged to alter his position ; and yet if beauty result from what we are ac- customed to, the goose ought to have the pre- ference, for though the swan is a common bird, the goose is much more so. If it be said, that in birds so nearly allied only one central form ought to be looked for, I should ask if the form of a swan would be iniproved by approximating it to that of a goose ? and if a still wider range be taken, and a central form be to be sous^ht for the whole feathered race, we shall have, what Sir Joshua denies, pre-eminent beauty in one species. It seems to me perfectly clear, that if this doctrine of central forms be admitted, it must be extended farther than Sir Joshua’s limits, and 48 J. WOODS, and we must consider that species as the most beautiful, which approaches nearest to the cen- tral form of all species, or at least of all species which admit of comparison ; and on this ground the swan will fall very far short, in the scale of beauty, of the rank it usually holds ; and man, who would be compared with mon- keys, if not with other quadrupeds, must be esteemed less beautiful than the ourang outang, or than animals of forms still farther removed from his own. In compliance with the prejudice man na- turally feels for his own species, this objection may be passed over, but still we must admit, that a central form and colour of all the differ- ent tribes would to a man of an enlarged mind, be the most beautiful ; but as far as complexion goes, the contrary might be proved from the author’s own writings, and the greater capacity for expression in a complexion comparatively fair, would alone determine the contrary ; and till the other tribes of the human race have shewn themselves equal to the Europeans in mindj I think we are justified in preferring those forms, which till then must be considered as in- dicative of intellectual superiority. This is all that Sir J. Reynolds’ works con- tain ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 49 tain of theory, or of general principle, appli- cable to all the arts. In pursuance of my general plan, I shall now proceed to point out the few observations he makes relating to ar- chitecture: in this science he disclaims all au- thority, but praises Vanbrugh for the production of painter-like effect in his buildings, and for his composition and management of light and shade ; and particularly for his care to unite his work well with the ground, and that it did not abruptly start out of it without preparation or expectation : he also commends him for the display of imagination exhibited in his works. To his observations on winding and irre- gular streets, I am strongly inclined to accede, in spite of the almost universally received opi* nion to the contrary. He remarks that* “ the “ forms and turnings of the streets of London and other old towns, are produced by acci- ** dent, but they are not always the less plea- sant to a walker or spectator on that account; ** on the contrary, if the city had been built on the regular plan of Sir Christopher Wren, “ the effect might have been, as we know it is “ in some new parts of the town, rather un- pleasing ; the uniformity might have produced weariness and a slight degree of disgust/' E Thp 50 J. WOODS, The next division of my subject \vill lead me to an examination of the picturesque. The eloquence and authority of Burke having es- tablished smoothness, as a necessary constituent of beauty, it would not long escape observa- tion, that many very pleasing objects were de- ficient in that quality ; and as it was remarked that the scenes chosen by painters, (whose ob- ject is the selection of what is beautiful, or at least of what is pleasing) were generally of this character, it was agreed to give it the name of picturesque. Gilpin was, I believe, the first who at- tempted to define this character, and to shew how it differed from beauty ; to which, indeed, it is in his ideas almost the precise opposite. He acknowledges with Burke, that smoothness is a considerable source of beauty, generally speaking ; but maintains that the reverse is the case, in picturesque representation, and that roughness forms the most essential points of dif- ference between the beautiful and the pictu- resque. The term roughness, is afterwards defined so as to include ruggedness ; so that the idea of gradual variation, which is considered by Burke as essential to beauty, must be excluded from ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 5 1 iTrom the picturesque ; smallness of dimension is also rejected. Ihe following extract may serve to shew to what an extent he carries this theory. “ You desire to have a beautiful object painted ; your horse, for instance, led out of the ** stable in all his pampered beauty. The art ** of painting is ready to accommodate you ; ** you have the beautiful form you admired in ** nature, exactly transferred to canvass : be ** then satisfied, the art of painting has given “ you what you wanted. It is no injury to the beauty of your Arabian, if the painter think “ he could have given the graces of his art “ more forcibly to your cart horse. But does it not depreciate his art, if he give up a ** beautiful form for one less beautiful, merely ** because he could have given it the graces of " his art more forcibly ? Is the smart touch of ** a pencil the grand desideratum in painting ? Does he discover nothing in picturesque ob- jects, but qualities which admit of being " rendered with spirit ?” In defending his ar- tist from this latter insinuation, Gilpin entirely overlooks the first question, which I am afraid must be answered in the affirmative ; yet he afterwards admits the horse, with a glossy coat, E 2 52 J. WOODS, to be a picturesque object, on the same prin- ciple that an unruffled lake is so ; from the strong lights and shades which are caused by- reflection. In the latter part of the essay, a variety of solutions are ofiered to the question of, ** Why this roughness is necessary in a picture, when it is not so in nature ?” but they are all rejected. The case, he observes, is the same with the question of, What is taste V* various answers to which have been given by different philoso- phers ; but not one which will stand the test of a rigorous examination. ** Thus in our enqui- ** ries into first principles, we go on without end, and without satisfaction ; the human “ understanding is unequal to the search.” Uvedale Price is, however, the great hero of the picturesque, and to his works I shall now proceed ; as any further remarks I could make upon Gilpin, would only anticipate his observations, or my own on his principles. “ Many objects,” this author observes, are pleasing in pictures, and even in reality, to connoisseurs, in which the common obser- ver sees no merit ; these are picturesque : and it will be found on examination, that while beauty pleases by smoothness, softness, symme- try. ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 53 try, and gradual variation ; the picturesque depends on roughness, ruggedness, abruptness, and irregularity. A temple or palace of Gre- cian architecture, in its most intire state is beau- tiful ; in ruin it is picturesque ; observe the process by which time converts a beautiful ob- ject into a picturesque one. First, by means of weather stains, partial incrustations, mosses, &c. ; it at the same time takes off from the uniformity of its surface, and of its colour ; that is, gives it a degree of roughness and va- riety of tint. Next, the various accidents of weather loosen the stones themselves ; they tumble in irregular masses, upon what was per- haps smooth turf or pavement ; or nicely trim- med walks and shrubberies ; now mixed and overgrown with wild plants and creepers, that crawl over and shoot among the fallen ruins ; sedums, wall-flowers, and other vegetables that bear drought, find nourishment in the decayed cement from which the stones have been de- tached ; birds convey their food into the chinks ; and yew, elder, and other berry bear- ing plants, project from their sides ; while the ivy mantles over other parts, and crowns the top. The even regular lines of the doors and E 3 windows. 54 J. WOODS, windows, are broken ; and through their ivy fringed openings is displayed in a more broken and picturesque manner, that striking image of Virgil : Apparet domus intus et atria longa patescunt Apparent Priami et veterum penetralia regum. Ihere is not much Jlnalogy between a tree and a human figure, but there is a great deal in the particular qualities which make either of them beautiful or picturesque : almost all the qualities of beauty, as might naturally be expected, belong to youth ; and among them all, none is more consonant to our ideas of beauty, or gives so general an impression of it, as fresh- ness ; without it, the most perfect form, wants its most precious finish ; — wherever it begins to fade, wherever marks of age or unbealthiness appear, though other effects, other sympathies, other characters may arise, there must be a dU minution of beauty. Freshness belongs equally to human and to vegetable beauty, and is diffu- sed over the whole appearance ; many parti- culars likewise have a mutual analogy ; the luxuriance of foliage answers to that of hair ; the delicate smoothness of bark to that of the skin, and the clear, even, and tender colour of it : there is in both also, though much more sensibly ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 55 sensibly in the skin, another beauty, arising from a look of softness and suppleness, so op- posite to the hard and dry appearance produced by age. “ The earliest and most perceptible at- tacks of time are made on the bark and on the skin, which at first, however, merely lose their evenness of surface, and perfect clearness of colour ; by degrees the lines grow stronger in each, the tint more dingy, often unequal, and in spots ; and in proportion as either trees, or men, and women, advance towards decay, the regular progress of time, and often the effects of accident, occasion great and partial changes in their forms. In trees, the various hollows and inequalities which are produced by some parts failing, and others in consequence falling in ; from accidental marks and protuberances; and from other circumstances, which a long course of years gives rise to, are obvious ; and ^ many correspondent changes in the human form are no less obvious. By such changes, that nice symmetry and correspondence of parts, so essential to beauty, is in both destroyed ; in both, the hand of time traces still deeper furrows, and roughens their surface ; a few hairs, a few leaves, are thinly scattered on their E 4f summits ; 56 J. WOODS, summits ; the light airy aspiring look of youth is gone, and both seem shrunk and' tottering, and ready to fall with the next blast. '' Such is the change from beauty ! and to what ? Surely not to an higher or to an equal degree, or to a different style of beauty ; no, nor to any thing that resembles it ; and yet that both these objects, even in this last state, have often strong attractions for paint- ers, their works afford sufficient testimony ; that they are called picturesque^ the general ap- plication of the term to such objects makes equally clear ; and that they totally differ from what is beautiful, the common feelings of man^ kind no less convincingly prove. One misap- piehension should be guarded against : the instances here given, are not adduced to prove that an object to be picturesque, must be old and decayed, but that the most beautiful ob- jects will become so by age and decay ; and I believe it is equally true, that those which are naturally of a strongly marked and peculiar cbaractei, are likely to become still more pic- turesque by the process I have mentioned. The picturesque is no less distinct from the sublime, than from the beautiful ; unifor- Wdy (which is so great an enemy to the pic- turesque). ON THEORIES OF TASTE 57 turesque), is not only compatible with the sublime, but is often the cause of it ; that ge- neral, equal gloom, which is spread over all nature, before a storm, with the stillness so no- bly described by Shakespeare,* is in the highest degree sublime. The picturesque requires greater variety, and does not shew itself till ** the dreadful thunder has rent the region,” has tossed the clouds into a thousand towering forms, and opened as it were the recesses of the sky. Again, (if we descend to earth) a per- pendicular rock of vast height and bulk, though bare and unbroken, a deep chasm, under the same circumstances, are objects which produce awful sensations ; but without some variety or intricacy, either in themselves, or in their accompaniments, they will not be picturesque ; lastly, a most essential difference between the two characters is, that the sublime by its solemnity, takes off from the loveliness of And as we often see against a storm A silence in the heavens, the wrack stand still. The bold wind speechless, and the orb itself As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder Has rent the region.”— 58 J. WOODS, of beauty, whereas the picturesque renders it more captivating.*' To this account of the picturesque, and, indeed, at the same time to Burke’s definition of beauty, Knight objected, in a note to the second edition of the Landscape, When harmony,” says he, “ either in colour or sur- face becomes absolute unity, it sinks into what, in sound, we call monotony ; that is, its im- pression is so languid and unvaried, that it pro- duces no farther irritation on the organ, than what is necessary for mere perception ; which though never totally free from either pleasure or pain, is so nearly neutral, that by a continuation it grows tiresome ; that is, it leaves the organ to a sensation of mere existence, which seems in itself to be painful. “ If colours are so harsh and contrasted, or the surface of a tangible object so pointed or uneven, as to produce a stronger or more varied impression than the organ is adapted to bear, the irritation becomes painful in proportion to its degree, and ultimately tends to its dissolu- tion. ‘‘ Between these extremes, lies that medium of grateful irritation, which produces the sensa- tion of what we call beauty ; and which, in. visible ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 59 visible objects, we call picturesque beauty ; because painting, by imitating the visible qua- lities only, discriminate it from the objects of other senses with which it may be combined ; and which if productive of stronger impres- sions, either of pleasure or disgust, will over- power it ; so that a mind not habituated to such discriminations, or (as more commonly ex- pressed) a person not possessed of a painter's eye, does not discover it till it is separated in the artist’s Imitation. Rembrandt, Ostade, Teniers, and others of the Dutch painters, have produced the most beautiful pictures, by the most exact imitations of the most ugly and dis- gusting objects in nature ; and yet it is physi- cally impossible, that an exact imitation should exhibit qualities, not existing in its original ; but the case is, that in the originals, animal disgust, and the nauseating repugnance of ap- petite, drown and overwhelm every milder pleasure of vision, which a blended variety of mellow and harmonious tints must necessarily produce on the eye, in nature as well as art ; if viewed in both with the same degree of ab- stracted and impartial attention.” In reply to this. Price wrote his dialogue on the distinct characters of the picturesque and beautiful ; 6o J. WOODS, beautiful ; he supposes, “ a ruinous hovel on the outskirts of a heathy common ; in a dark corner of it, some gypsies are sitting over a half extinguished fire, which every now and then, as one of them stoops down to blow it, feebly blazes up for a moment, and shews their sooty faces and black tangled locks. An old male gypsey stands at the entrance, with a countenance expressive of his threefold occu- pation, of beggar, thief, and fortune-teller ; and by him a few worn-out asses ; one loaded with rusty panniers, the others with old tattered cloathes and furniture. The hovel is propped and overhung by a blighted oak ; its bare roots starling through the crumbling bank on which it stands ; a gleam of light from under a dark cloud, glances on the most prominent parts ; the rest is buried in deep shadow, except where the dying embers, “ teach light to counterfeit a gloom.” Such a scene is picturesque. Is it beautiful ? Change the hovel into a pavilion, the gypsies into elegant figures, the asses into pampered steeds, the blasted oak into a flou- rishing plane tree ; and diffuse over the whole, one rich mellow light, you will then have a beautiful scene. Is not the difference of cha- racter in these scenes, sufficient to justify, and even ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 6l even to require the use of different terms, to designate them ? The parsonage house is as irregular as possible, but the whole has an air of neatness and comfort. Is this to be praised in exactly the same expressions as you would assign to an elegant villa, or to the wretched hovel above mentioned ? — The good parson’s daughter is made on the model of her father’s house ; her features are irregular, and her eyes somewhat inclined to look across each other, like the roofs of the old parsonage ; but a clear skin, clean white teeth, though not very even, and a look of neatness and cheerfulness, makes one look at her with pleasure ; yet no one would call her beautiful. Suppose a man with a large arched nose, dark skulking eyes, shaggy eye-brows, and raven hair ; let him wear a slouched hat, and a cloak calculated to conceal a weapon. Is this a beautiful object ? and are the dark wrinkled skin and grisly beard of the old gypsey, and the tender complexion of a beautiful woman, all to be characterised by the same epithet ? If in passing through a village or town, you see an ox hung up in the shambles, you do not stop to examine it. A picture of Rem- brandt’s on the same subject, excites the liveliest admiration : 62 J. WOODS, admiration : but then in the painting, the object IS smaller, and the colours more kept down. The real carcase of an ox seen reflected in a concave mirror, and especially if that were of the daik kind, would lose part of its disgusting appearance ; and if an ox were painted by Den- ner instead ol Rembrandt, and of its full size, it would hardly be less disgusting than the real ox hung up in the shambles.” This is, I believe, a fair and pretty full state- ment of the argument for the use of the word picturesque, as distinguished from the beautiful. We must bear it in mind, that Price does not, in anp degree, found this distinction in pictures, but draws it immediately from the character of the objects themselves. “ It has indeed been pointed out, and illustrated by that art ; but is not this,” he continues, “ also the case with beauty ? nay, according to the poet, beauty was even brought into existence by it. Si Venerum Cous nunquaiii posuisset Apelles, Mersa sub aequoreis ilia lateret aquis, “ Examine the forms of those painters who lived before the age of Raphael, or in a coun- try where the study of the antique had not yet taught them to separate what is beautiful from the general mass ; we might almost conclude, that, ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 63 that beauty did not then exist. Yet those paint- ers were capable of exact imitation, though not of selection ; compare the landscapes and back- grounds of such artists with those of Titian ; nature was not changed, but a mind of a high- er cast, and instructed by the experience of all who had gone before, rejected minute detail, and pointed out by means of such selections and such combinations, as were congenial to its own sublime conceptions, in what forms, in what colours, and in what effects, grandeur in landscape consisted. ‘‘ There is one circumstance particularly adverse to this part of my essay ; I mean the ma- nifest derivation of the word picturesque. The Italian pittoresco is I imagine of earlier date than either the English or the French word, the latter of which, pittoresque, is clearly taken from it, having no analogy to its own tongue. Pit- toresco is derived not like the English word, from the thing painted, but from the painter ; and this difference is not wholly immaterial ; for one refers to a particular imitation, and the ob- jects which may suit it; the other to those objects which from the habit of examining all the peculiar effects, as well as the general appear- ance of nature, an artist may be struck with, though 64 J. WOODS, though a common observer may not ; and that independently of the power of representing them. The English word naturally draws the reader’s mind towards pictures, and from that par- tial and confined view of the subject, what is in truth, only an illustration of piciuresqueness becomes the foundation of it. ** From what has been already said, it will easily be understood, that picturesque objects are by no means exclusively adapted to painting ; they are not even adapted in any higher degree than beautiful ones. AVhat is the rank which Corregio, (Juido, and Albano hold among paint- ers; or Raphael the highest name among the moderns ? and, if we go back to the ancients, what are the pictures that were most admired while they existed, and whose fame is as fresh as ever ? The Venus of Apelles, the Helen of Zeuxis ; pictures in which ruggedness, abrupt- ness, and sudden variation could have no place.” Knight supports his opinion, and enters into a further explanation of it, in h\% Analytical Enquiry. “ The pleasure,” he observes, “ arising from the contemplation of beauty is not merely sensual, but depends on various associations and mental sympathies. The eye, unassisted, per- ceives nothing but light and colour, as the decep- tion ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 65 tlon produced by4he art of painting abundant- ly prove ; and as pleasure lies in the medium between dull uniformity and harsh and painful irritation, mere visible beauty will consist in har- monious, yet brilliant and contrasted combin- ations of light, shade, and colour ; blended but not confused, and broken but not cut into masses, and it is not in straight or curved, taper or spiral, long or short, little or great objects that we are to seek for these ; but in such as display to the eye intricacy of parts, and variety of tint and surface. Such are animals which have loose shaggy and curly hair ; trees whose branches are spread into irregular forms, and exhibit broken and diversified masses of foliage, and whose trunks are varied with masses and lichens, enriched witli ivy ; buildings that are moulder- ing into ruin, whose sharp angles are softened by decay, and whose crude and uniform tints are mellowed and diversified by weather stains and wall plants ; streams that flow alternately smooth and agitated, between broken and sedgy banks, reflecting sometimes clearly and sometimes indistinctly the various masses of rock and foliage that hang over them ; in short, almost all those objects which Mr. Price has so elegantly described as picturesque ; for paint- F ing, 66 J, WOODS, ing, as it imitates only the visible qualities of bodies, separates these qualities from all others, which the habitual concurrence and co-opera- tion of the other senses have mixed and blend- ed with them in our ordinary perceptions. In many of the objects of these mixt sensations there must necessarily occur a mix- ture of pleasing and displeasing qualities; or of such as please one sense and displease an- other ; or please the sense and offend the un- derstanding, or the imagination. These, paint- ing separates, and in its imitations of objects, which are pleasing to the eye but otherwise of- fensive, exhibits the pleasing qualities only ; so that wc are delighted with the copy, when we should perhaps, turn away with disgust and abhorrence from the original. Decayed pol- lard trees, rotten thatch, crumbling masses of perished brick, and plaster, tattered worn-out dirty garments, a fish or a flesh market, may all exhibit the most harmonious and brilliant combinations of tints to the eye; and har- monious and brilliant combinations are certain- ly beautiful in whatsoever they are seen ; but nevertheless these objects contain so many pro- perties that are offensive to other senses, or to the imagination, that in nature, we are not pleased ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 67 pleased with them nor ever consider them as beautiful. Yet in the pictures of Rembrandt, Ostade, Teniers, and Fyt, the imitations of them are unquestionably beautiful, and pleas- ing to all mankind ; and as these painters are remarkable for the fidelity of their imitations, whatever visible objects existed in the originals must appear in their copies of them ; but in these copies the mind only perceives the visible qualities ; whereas in the originals, it perceived others, less agreeable, united with them. Paint- ers indeed, and persons much conversant with painting, often feel pleasure in viewing the objects themselves : but this is from a princi- ple of association, which will be hereafter ex- plained. “ Mr. Price indeed denies that the imita- tions of such objects can ever produce beauti- ful, that is lovely, pictures ; and if beautiful is thus limited to the sense of lovely, perhaps the point is not worth contesting ; though even with this arbitraiy and unexampled limitation, I can produce at least equal authority in support of a contrary opinion, ** D’un pinceau delicat, I’artifice agreable ** Du plus afFreux objet, fait un objet aimable.” Bcnleau, Art poetique, c, in. F 3 The 68 J. WOODS, The beauty of those whimsical and ex- travagant paintings, called from the subter- raneous apartments in Rome, where the first specimens of them were found, grottesque, has never I believe been questioned ; the brilliancy and variety of the tints, have afforded pleasure to every eye ; and the airy lightness, and play- ful elegance of the forms, to every imagination that has been acquainted with them ; yet were we to meet with such extravagant and dispro- portioned buildings in reality ; or such mon- strous combinations of human, animal, and vegetable forms in nature ; our understandings would revolt at them, and we should turn from them with scorn and disgust ; but, in judging of the imitative representations of them, we do not consult our understandings, but mere- ly our senses and imaginations, and to them they are pleasing and beautiful. ** I am aware that I am here laying my- self open to the cavils of a captious adversary ; who may accuse me of calling the tattered rags and filth of a beggar, or the extravagant mon- sters of grotesque, beautiful ; because I assert that they contain beautiful variations of tint or light and shadow : but he may with equal jus- tice accuse me of calling a dunghill sweet, be- cause ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 69 cause I assert that it contains sugar ; and that the sugar when separated from the dross, will be of the same quality as that extracted from the cane. In the same manner the beautiful tints and lights and shadows when separated in the imitation from the disagreeable qualities with which they were united are as truly beautiful as if they had never been united with any such qualities, properly those subjects only can be called sweet in which the qualities of sweetness predominate ; and those only beautiful in which the qualities of beauty ^predominate ; but if there be any means as those abovementioned, of separating the subordinate sweet, and beauti-* fill, qualities from those of a contrary kind ; there can be no reason why they should be less sweet, or less beautiful, when separated, than if they had never been mixt. Thus the gypsies" hut as a mere object of sense may be as beauti- ful as the elegant pavilion. The lights and shades may be as well arranged, the colours as beautiful and as harmoniously blended, and the different nature of the emotions excited arises entirely from the associated ideas,, without de- pending at all on the smoothness, regularity, or gradual variation of the one ; or the roughness, abruptness or irregularity, of the other. In- F 3 deed 70 J. WOODS, deed the great error which pervades the other- wise able and eloquent Essays on the Picturesque, is the attributing to external objects distinctions which only exist in the modes or habits of view- ing them/’ It will be perceived that in these observa- tions on Price, I have united to his essays on the picturesque, his dialogue on the distinct characters of the picturesque and beautiful, and his letter to Repton. The two former have fur- nished the remarks of the foregoing part of this essay, the first and the last, exhibit the reasons for the application of the study of pictures to architecture and the embellishments of grounds. This question of the expedience of the study of paintings, as far as it relates to the landscape gardener seems to me compressible into a very small compass. The object of painters is to please ; at first they endeavoured to do this by the mere excellence of imitation ; the next step was to select what was most beau- tiful in nature, as it required no great depth of penetration to understahd, that an equally cor- rect imitation of a beautiful object, must be more pleasing than that of one less beautiful. The third and last step was by selecting the most beautiful parts of various scenes, and combining ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 71 combining them in such modes as experience proved to be the most generally interesting; by uniting into masses the less important parts, and only shewing the more perfect strongly in de- tail ; to produce a whole more harmonious, more graceful, more delightful than nature ever exhibited. Such being the process of painting we may safely refer to such of its ef- forts as have attained general and lasting reputa- tion as to standards of grace and beauty. For the only standard to which we can refer in ob- jects of taste is the general opinion of civilized mankind ; not that of the inhabitants of one country, or of one period ; but as far as is pos- sible of all ^ges, and all countries. Many ages, and many nations, have concurred to pronounce excellent, paintings which still exist : and we may therefore with as much confidence as is consistent with the nature of the subject, pro- nounce that lliese are beautiful. But are they beautiful on canvass only ? or would such scenes be beautiful in nature also? Look at a landscape of Claude or of Salvator Rosa and think whether in nature such scenes would call forth your admiration. But there are some scenes which we admire in a picture which would in nature be absolutely disgusting ; and F 4 such 72 Jc WOODS, sucli are many of the paintings of Teniers and Rembrandt. According to Knightsuch scenes are really pleasing in themselves, from the grateful combinations of light and colour they present, but disgust in reality from various disagreeable associations which are there inseparably con- nected with them, but which we do not carry into the picture. In adhering to Price I am afraid we shall not so easily get over the diffi- culty; but, whatever reason maybe assigned, all parties are agreed that such objects if they do not please in reality ought not in realities to be introduced, and it will afford no argument against the study of such painters as Claude or Titian with whose objects no contemptible or disgusting ideas can be imagined to be neces- sarily associated. Between these classes of objects there are many intermediate degrees. The cottage of the labourer is sometimes introduced with the happiest effect, and who in nature or art, can see peace and content, united to the exer- tions of honest industry, without some agree- able emotions, has a taste, which I am by no means solicitous to please. But the decayed cottage, and half starved horse can only be defended on the same plea as the filth of Rem- brandt ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 7S brandt and indecency of Teniers, though a lover of pictures, will more readily learn to admire these in nature as the disagreeable impressions are less strongly excited. Another objection has been made to the plan of improving natural scenery by the study of pictures: you must sacrifice convenience and comfort. No, it is replied, study paintings and improve from them your own scenery as far as is consistent with these objects, which must be paramount to all others; and do not as is now frequently the case, destroy beauty and com- fort too for the sake of some idle notions of neatness and smoothness. The same argument will doubtless apply, though perhaps with some limitations, to the practice of the architect, but as convenience is still more important in the house it becomes more difficult to unite it with beauty. A£ter having examined, as well as my abi- lities will permit, what there is of theory in the works of Price, I shall now advert to what he says of the application of his principles to archi- tecture. This is comprised under two heads. He recommends the accompaniments of terraces, dwarf walls, vases, &c. and prefers irregular houses to such as are uniform. In nature, he observes, 74 J. WOODS, observes, broken ground ornamented with shrubs and creeping plants is particularly pleas- ing. In art, terraces adorned with vases, or with sculpture, produce the same or, at least, a corresponding effect, though with more regu- larity : they serve too to connect the house with the ground, and take off from the naked ab- rupt appearance which is the result of the mo- dern practice of setting the house in the middle of a field. Their ornaments moreover are, or may be, beautiful in themselves, besides the improvement in the general appearance of the house and its immediate vicinity; and repay the observer for an individual examination. Irregular houses are recommended as picturesque, that is because they are irregular- ly pleasing. This however is not a ground of preference, as what is regularly pleasing in an equal degree will certainly hold an equal rank, Knight takes a bolder stand, and maintains that they are more pleasing than regular ones ; which indeed he affects to consider, as little short of dis- gusting. It seems to me however that the de- cided preference that both authors certainly give to irregular edifices is not perfectly consistent with their own views of beauty. Price says, some of the most striking and varied compositions both ON THEORIES OF TASTE. .75 both in painting and in nature are those where the most distant view (whatever be the degree of its extent) is seen between the stems, and across, and under the branches of large trees; and where some of those trees are very near the eye. But where trees are so disposed, a house with a regular extended front could not be built without destroying, together with many of the trees, the greatest part of such well composed pictures. Now if the owner of such a spot, instead of making a regular front and sides were to insist upon having many of the windows turned towards those points where the objects were most happily arranged, the architect would be forced into the invention of a number of picturesque forms, and combinations, which otherwise might never have occurred to him, and would be obliged to do what so seldom has been done— accommodate his building to the scenery, not make that give way to his build- ing. ** Many are the advantages, he continues, both in respect to the outside and to the inside that would result from such a method. In re- gard to the first it is scarcely possible that a building on such a plan, and so accompanied, should not be an ornament to the landscape, from 76 i. WOODS, from whatever point it might be viewed. Then the blank spaces that would be left where the aspect suddenly changed (which by the ad- mirers of strict regularity woi^ld be thought incurable blemishes) might, by means of trees, and shrubs, or of climbing plants, trained about wood, or stone work, be translormed in- to beauties: which at the same time that they were interesting in the detail, would very es- sentially contribute to the rich effect of the whole. “ Such a disposition of the outside would also suggest to an artist of genius, no less varied and picturesque effects within ; and the ar- rangement of the rooms, would often-times be at least as convenient as in a more uniform plan ; nor would a house of this kind be admired by men of a picturesque taste only ; for it may be observed that men in general are apt to be pleased with an appearance of irregularity in the distribution of a house, and in the shapes of the rooms, and even to conceive an idea of comfort from it. With respect to the improve- ment of the view, there can be no doubt ; and whatever constitutes a good foreground to the view from the house will, generally speaking, jhave an equally good effect from every other point.’* This ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 77 This is not, however, considering the sub- ject in a fair point of view; there arc doubtless particular circumstances and situations which may make irregularity desirable in a residence; but suppose there were no trees, and that with- out any very bold and striking projections in the soil, the whole foreground was to be form- ed as well as the house ; in such a case ought the building to be irregular ? In the old system of laying out ground,” says Mr. Knight, ** the incongruity between the regularity of the building, and the irregularity of the surrounding scenery, was in a great de- gree obviated ; for the house being surrounded by gardens as uniform as itself, and only seen through vistas at right angles, every visible ac- companiment was in unison with it; and the systematic regularity of the whole, discernible from every pc>int of sight ; but when according to the modern fashion, all around, is levelled and thrown open ; and the poor S(|uare edifice exposed alone, or with the accompaniment on- ly of its regular wings, and portico, amidst spacious lawns, interspersed with irregular clumps, or masses of wood, and sheets of wa- ter, I do not know a more melancholy object : it neither associates nor harmonizes with any fhing ; and, as the beauties of symmetry which might 78 J. WOODS, might appear in its regularity, are only per- ceived when that regularity is seen ; that is, when the building is shown from a point of sight, at right angles with one of the fronts, the man of taste takes care that it never shall be so shown ; but that every view of it shall be oblique, from the tangent of a curve in a ser- pentine walk ; from whence it appears neither quite regular nor quite irregular ; but with that sort of lame and defective uniformity, which we see in an animal that has lost a limb.” In reply to this wc may observe that the human face is as correctly uniform in its parts as a modern Grecian villa, and though perhaps to Mr. Price it might suggest some ideas of convenience if one eye and one ear were larger than the other, as it might seem sufficient to have one principal organ for each sense, while the other would be a mere sketch to serve occa- ' sionally when the principal should be tired or out of order ; or might be ready for nature to finish should any accident happen to the latter, yet for some reason or other, this to the rest of mankind, would seem a defect : but though regularity in the features is thus universally pleasing we do not wish our portraits to be painted with the full face, but prefer having them somewhat turned on one side or the other ; ON THEORIES OP TASTE. 79 other ; this would seem to indicate, that there is something in regularity pleasing to the under- standing, but not to the eye : and this exactly is what is offered to us, when a regular man- sion is viewed sideways, or is partially concealed by trees ; and why in this case it should be said to have a lame and defective uniformity, like that of a man who had lost an arm, any more than that the regularity of the face should be esteemed lame and defective unless both eyes were shown; would I believe puzzle Mr. Knight with all his ingenuity to explain. We are however certainly disgusted with an appearance of regularity in many objects, where it is not usually exhibited, and I dare not take upon me to assert that the regular structure, must be necessarily the most beauti- ful; (though I think the general voice of man- kind would favour this opinion) but I certainly do not hesitate to maintain that it is not neces- sarily the least beautiful. When I began this essay I intended to have reviewed various books on the subject of gar- dening, an art closely allied to architecture, but though I might say much on the books, I should have little to observe on the subject, and such an extension of it would take up your time 80 J. WOODS, time and my own without any adequate infor- mation. I shall therefore merely mention a few of the principal. Wheatly has many beau- tiful descriptions ; and there are certainly some good ideas among the trick and affectation of D’Ermenonville. Sir William Chambers’s book is an extravagance. The poems of Mason, of the Abb6 de Lille, and of Knight, have all some merit. Repton’s ideas of beauty, appear to depend upon expense : and the excessive love of glitter, and ostentation pervades all his works; but what opinion can we form of the consisten- cy of an artist, who at one time modestly as- serts that his drawings are too much like nature, to please connoisseurs, * and at another boldly claims for them the rank of complete painters compositions, \ The only remaining author I have to ex- amine on taste, is R. P. Knight, from whose writings I have frequently received assistance in my remarks on other writers, but whose w'ant of method and arrangement, renders it difficult to * Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening, p. 108. t Enquiry' into Ihe Changes of Taste in Landscape Gar- dening, p. 122. ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 8 1 to give a fair and regular account of The Analy- tical Inquiry into the Principles of Taste. The author has not even any where given an ex- plicit statement of the objects of the work. Where he exposes the errors of others, he is sufficiently clear; but though he appears to be endeavouring to establish a system of his own, it is not easy to comprehend what that system is. He explains parts of it with great force of rea- soning, and great happiness of illustration ; but does not connect the parts so as to form a clear and consistent whole. The attentive perusal of his book would induce one to conclude that he conceived mental sympathies to be the sole origin of the pleasures of taste ; yet some pas- sages seem to contradict such an opinion, and the concluding section of his work is said to be devoted to prove, that novelty is the real prin- ciple of happiness. I say, said to be d[evoted, because perhaps the person who read the sec- tion might doubt the fact, if the tabie of con- tents did not assure him of its truth. Consider- ing however the principle just mentioned as the leading one of the work, I shall follow the author as closely as seems necessary for my ob- ject ; enlarging, according to the plan I have before adopted, where the subject is, or niay Q be. J. W O O D S, S2 be, connected with architecture, and passing more slightly over the other parts. In some degree, indeed, every part is connected, if not with architecture, at least with architects ; for where the attainment of beauty is, in any de- gree, the object of an art, the cultivation of taste is a point of importance to its profes- sors. The introduction contains, what the au- thor denominates, a sceptical view of the sub- iect, in which he endeavours to prove that there are no fixed principles of taste. I he ar- guments he uses proceed all on the same foun- dati'>n ; the multitude of false tastes that have appeared in the world. “ A few years ago,”' he observes, “ a beauty ecjulpped for conquest ** was a heterogenous combination of incohe- ** rent forms, which nature could never have united in one animal, or art blended into one “ composition i it consisted of a head, dis- “ guised so as to resemble that of no living “ creature, placed on an inverted cone, the ** point of which rested on the centre ol the “ curve of a semi-eliiptic base, nien’e than three ‘‘ times the diameter of its own. Yet if high ** head dresses, tight laced stays, and wide hoops, had not been thought really ornamen- ^ tab ' * > S( ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 83 ** tal, how came they to be worn by all who ** could afford them ? Let no one imagine that he solves this question, by saying that there have been errors in taste, as well as in religion and philosophy ; for the cases are ** totally different; religion and philosophy being matters of belief, reason, and opinion; " but taste being a matter of feeling, so that " whatever was really and considerately thought to be ornamental, must previously have “ been felt to be so.” Other examples are ad- duced to establish the same position, but as they all rest on the same ground, the same argu- ments which disprove the one, will apply to the rest. Without rejecting the principle that * cus- tom is the rule of language,’ I think that I may be allowed to observe, that, in ‘‘ the laxity of colloquial conversation,” (to use an expression of our author) the same word is attributed to different objects, and frequently to some to which it would not strictly apply; but that in a philosophical disquisition, especially where the subject is in its nature obscure, it is neces- sary to use words with greater accuracy, and even in some cases to confine their meautng inore strictly than custom authorisesv The G 2 word 84 J. W O O D S, word beauty^ seems to me to require an ana-f lysis before we can come to a satisfactory deter- mination of the justness of taster many things are said to be beautiful, which excite admira- tion. Alison pleads for the beauty of the snout of a hog, from its being so admirably calculat- ed for the purposes for which it is intended ; and there can be no doubt that the perception of the fitness of means to an end is a source of considerable pleasure ; but pleasure of a totally different class, from that we enjoy from the contemplation of a rose, or a graceful oina- ment. The association of pleasing ideas will make an object appear beautiful to one person, which is not so to the rest of the world : but that it is not properly beautiful his own feelings would sufficiently prove, as the addition of circumstances which in any other place would enhance the pleasure, would in this dimi- nish, or totally destroy it, by weakening the associations. When, however, these associations are not particular, but universal, and arise from the constitution of our nature, or from the ne- cessary conditions of civilized life, common use will pronounce the objects which excite them beautiful, and I do not wish to fight un- necessarily against custom : let us however al- ways ON THEORIES OF TASTE. ' 85 ways keep in mind, that this pleasure is different from that which arises from what may be more strictly, and philosophically termed beauty. In cases of this sort it is necessary that the re- lation should be obvious, and immediate. A house may be called beautiful, from an ap- pearance of comfort and convenience, but if it have not a striking appearance of those quali- ties, no knowledge that we may possess of its advantages will justify our calling it so. In- deed I doubt if the term is ever used by a per^ son without theory, and not in the habit of conversation with persons accustomed to theo- ries, with the intention of expressing any other mode of pleasure, than that produced by mere unassociated beauty: but being unaccustomed to examine what passes in his own mind, he attributes to one, a pleasure, which in fact arises from another source. This I conceive to be de- cidedly the case in objects of fashion ; they are associated not only with the splendour of su- perior rank, and with the love of distinction, the universal, I had almost said the only pas- sion, not immediately relating to sensual plea- sure, but also with what is really beautiful and elegant in the dress, the manners, the apart- ments of the rich and gay. G 3 It 86 J. WOOD 3, It would perhaps have been sufficient to shew the doctrine of Knight to be false by re- ferring to those objects in nature which are uni- versally acknowledged beautiful. If mankind is agreed that a swan is a more beautiful bird than a goose, some forms must be fitted by the constitution of our nature, to produce more pleasure than others; that is, some are essentially more beautiful than others ; but it appears to me also to be expedient to examine the sources cf errors. In the examples adduced by Knight, I believe beauty has not been sought for. The object was admiration, in the first instance, and afterwards, in fashion, the fear of singularity ; and when from these motives any form has been admitted among the great, its association with objects of wealth and splendour, would ex- cite pleasing ideas ; which, as before observed, would, by those not accustomed to examine the progress of their thoughts, be said to arise from ffieir intrinsic beauty. If we apply this principle to the fine arts we shall not find it necessary to suppose Michael Angelo or Berni- ni insincere in their praises of the Greek sculp- ture ; they saw beauty, but they followed dis- tinction ; and the same may be said of the. writers, who applaud “ in quaint phraseology “ and ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 87 and epigrammatic points, the simple purity of Xenophon, Caesar, and Swift, and con- ‘‘ demn in others the very style they employ ‘‘ themselves;” for the desire of distinction^ leads them to a deviation of which they are perfectly conscious, and self-love blinds them to their own defects : and thus they highly over- value their own writings, even while they admire those most different from them. I fear I should be tiresome, if I were to examine the detail of Mr. Knight’s observations of the senses : as in taste, and smell, he ac- knowledges that we may receive mere sensual pleasure from the other senses, but these are not the pleasures in which the man of taste de- lights. In sight, he confines these pleasures to light and colour, excluding form as a source of organic pleasure. In this, as in the former part, he chuses sometimes to confound other pleasures with those which I have considered as exclusively belonging to beauty^ and vindi- cates the grazier who considers an animal beau- tiful, in proportion to the quantity of market- able flesh which the animal in the leRst possible time, and with the .least possible quantity of food, may bring into the shambles. Yet sure- ly, though the public may and must give the G 4 law 88 J. WOODS, law to language, yet it is not to one class of the public that we must defer. In all trades^ probably, there will be a tendency to consider that as beautiful, which is conducive to profit $ but if the pleasures of taste arise, as Knight supposes, (and as he is possibly right in sup- posing) from mental sympathies, does it follow that we are to sympathise with any class of people in the desire of gaining wealth, or to consider objects as beautiful, from exciting such sympathy ? though such a desire, within proper bounds, is not only blameless, but commenda- ble ; and by no means a selfish passion, but one on which the welfare of a considerable number of people may depend. In the second part, Knight treats of the association of ideas, and the pleasures arising from it; one of which is, that which we rc* ceive from mere imitation. “ Man,*' says he, “ is by nature an imitative animal; and as “ those faculties of his mind by which he has risen so much above the rest of the crea* “ tion, are owing in a great degree to one in- “ dividual imitating another, and still adding “ something to what he had acquired ; imita- “ tion is both naturally and habitually pleasing ** to him ; hence there is no effort of painting “ of ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 8^ * or sculpture so rude, no composition in. * music or poetry so artless, as not to delight ' those who have known no better; and per- ‘ haps the pleasures which the ignorant feel ‘ from mere imitation, w'hen it has arrived at ‘ any degree of exactitude^ are more keen and ‘ vivid, though less exquisite and exalted, than ‘ those which the learned in arts receive from * the noblest of its productions ; at least I have ‘ seen more delight expressed at a piece of ‘ wax-work or a painting of a mackarel on a * deal board, or a pheasant on a table, than I * have observed to be produced by the Apollo ‘ of the Belvedere, or the Transfiguration of ' Raphael. It is true that the vulgar express * their feelings more boisterously and impe- ' tuously than the learned ; but it is also true> ^ that the feelings of nature have universally ‘ more of rapture in them than those which * are excited through the medium of science. * These feelings of nature however are of very ‘ short duration : for when the novelty of the ‘ first impression is over, and the interest of * curiosity and surprise subsided, mere imita- * tion of common objects begins to appear ** trifling, and insipid : and men look for, in ** an imitative art, something of character, “ and 90 J. W O O D S, and expression, which may awaken sym^ pathy, excite new ideas, or expand and ele^ " vate those already formed. “ Another source of pleasure in works of “ art, arises from the exhibition of the skill of the artist; for, as great skill, and power, and “ a masterly facility of execution, raise our ** admiration, and consequently excite pleasing, and exalted ideas ; we by a natural and im-^ ** perceptible process of the mind, associate “ these ideas with those excited by the produc-* “ tions of the liberal arts, and thus transfer the “ merit of the w'orkman to the work.” The skill displayed in overcoming difficulties will also excite a pleasure of this kind, though in many respects much inferior, and sometirnes accompanied by a degree of disgust, at the appearance of perverted ingenuity. “ Much of the pleasure which we receive “ from painting, sculpture, music, poetry, &c. “ arises from our associating other ideas with those immediately excited by them. Hence “ the productions of these arts are never ** thoroughly enjoyed, but by persons whose ‘‘ minds are enriched by a variety of kindred “ and corresponding imagery; the extent and “ compass of which, allowing for different ** degrees ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 91 ^ degrees of sensibility and habits of atten- tion, will form the scale of such enjoy- ** ment. Neatness, freshness, lightness, sym- “ metry, regularity, uniformity and propriety, are beauties of the highest class ; though the pleasure they afford, is not simply a plea- ** sure of the sense of seeing, nor one receiv- ed by the mind through the medium of ‘‘ painting ; but upon the same principle, as the association of ideas renders those quali- “ ties in visible objects, which are peculiarly “ appropriate to painting, peculiarly pleasing “ to those conversant in that art ; co likewise “ does it render these qualities, which are pe- “ ciiliariy adapted to promote the comforts and “ enjoyments of social life, pleasing to the ‘‘ eye of civilized men, though there be no- “ tiling in the forms and colours of the ob- jects themselves, in any degree pleasing to “ the sense; but perhaps the contrary, ** For this reason we require, that imme- diately adjoining the dwellings of opulence “ and luxury, every thing should assume its character, and not only be, but appear to be, “ dressed and cultivated. In such situations, ** neat gravel walks, mown turf, and flower- ing 92 J. WOODS, ing plants and shrubs, trained and distributed ** by art, are perfectly in character ; although “ if the same buildings were abandoned and ** in ruins, we should on the same principle of consistency and propriety, require neglected ** paths, rugged lanes, and wild uncultivated ** thickets, which are, in themselves, more “ pleasing, both to the eye and the imagina- “ tion, but unfit accompaniments of objects, not only originally produced by art, but in “ which art is constantly employed and exhi- “ bited. Nevertheless, a path shaggy and ne- “ glected, or a picturesque lane between rug- “ ged or broken banks, may be kept as clean, “ and commodious, for the purpose of walk- “ ing, as the neatest gravel walk ; wherefore it is not on any principle of reason, that the “ preference in such situations is given to the “ latter, but merely from the habitual associa- “ tion of ideas. This sort of neatness should^ on the “ same principle, be confined to the immediate “ appendages of the house, that is, to the ** grounds which are so connected with it as ** to appear -necessary adjuncts to the dwelling; “ and therefore to be under the influence of the same character, which is a character of ** art. / ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 93 art. On this account the avowed character ** of art of the Italian gardens, is preferable in ** garden scenery, to the concealed one now in fashion ; which is in reality rather counter- ‘‘ feited, than concealed ; for it appears in every thing, but appears in a dress which ** does not belong to it : at every step we per- ** ceive its exertions ; but at the same time per- “ ceive it has laboured much to effect little, ** and that while it seeks to hide its character, it only, like a prostitute who affects modesty, “ discovers it ‘the more. That the sense of propriety or co"ngruity “ in the style of buildings, is entirely artificial, ** and acquired by the habitual association of ** ideas, we need no other proof than its being ** wholly dependent on variable circumstances ; in the pictures of Claude and Gasper Pous- ** sin, we perpetually see a mixture of Grecian and Gothic architecture employed with the happiest effect in the same building. The ** temples, tombs, and palaces of the Greeks ** and Romans in Italy, were fortified with “ towers and battlements by the Goths and ** Lombards, in the middle ages; and such ** combinations are thus naturalized in the country, and are in perfect harmony with « the 94 J. WOODS, ** the scenery ; and far from interrupting tlie chain of ideas, they lead it on, and extend it, through different ages, and successive re- " volutions, in tastes, arts and sciences. ‘‘ Such combinations have been in some ** degree naturalized in our own country, as well as in Italy; though in a different order of succession, the Gothic having preceded the “ Grecian : the effect is nevertheless the same ; ** the fortresses of our ancestors, which in the ** course of the two last centuries, were trans- formed into Italianized villas, and decked with the porticos, balustrades, and terraces of ** Jones, and Palladio, affording in many in- “ stances, the most beautiful compositions, es- pecially when mellowed by time, and ne- “ glccted and harmonized, and united by ivy, mosses, lichens, &c.” I think in this doctrine there is much that nxay be doubted, though perhaps little that could be disproved ; and the attempt (per- haps unsuccessful at last) would lead me into a most unreasonable trespass on the time of the society. I may however observe, in pass- ing, that this historic train of ideas, does not seem to be exactly that which should be excited by the view of an inhabited house, unless in- ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 95 deed the history of tlie building be closely con-^ nected with that of the family that inha- bits it. The villas, or country houses, of the Romans,” continues Knight, were quite “ irregular : adapted to the situations in which “ they were placed, and spread out in every direction, according to the wants or inclinations, the taste, wealth, or magnifi- ‘‘ cence, of the respective owners. The re- gularity of which the moderns have been so tenacious in the plans of their country houses, ** was taken from the sacred, and not from the domestic architecture of the ancients ; from buildings, the forms of which were prescrib- ed by the religion to which they were con- secrated, and which, as far as they were '' meant to be ornamental, were intended to adorn streets, and squares, rather than parks and gardens; but being the only monuments *f of ancient taste and magnificence, in ar- “ chitecture, that remained at the resurrection ** of the arts, in a state sufficiently entire to be ** perfectly understood ; the revivers of the ** Grecian style copied it servilely from them, f* and applied it indiscriminately, to country, as well as to town, houses : but as they felt If its incongruity, with the surrounding scenery “of 96 J. WOODS, ** of unimproved and unperverted nature, they ** endeavoured to make that conform to it, as ** far as it was within their reach or under their ** controul. Hence probably arose the Italian ** style of gardening, though other causes may ** have co-operated. Nearly connected with propriety, or ** congruity, is symmetry;- or the proportion “ of parts to each other, and to the whole, ** This also depends entirely on the association ** of ideas, and not at all on abstract reason, or organic sensation ; otherwise like harmony “ in sound, and colour, it would result equal- ly from the same comparative relations in all ** objects ; which is so far from being the case, “ that the same relative dimensions which “ make one animal beautiful, make another “ absolutely ugly ; that which is the most ex- “ quisite symmetry in a horse, would be the ** most gross deformity in an elephant. ** In many productions of art, symmetry ** is still more absolutely the result of arbitrary ** convention ; that is, it proceeds from an asso- elation of ideas, which have not been so “ invariably associated ; and which are there- ** fore less firmly, and intimately connected. ** There is no reason whatever in the nature ** of things, or in the analogy of the parts, “ why ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 97 " why a Corinthian capital should be placed “ on a slenderer shaft than a Doric or Ionic ** one ; on the contrary, the Corinthian being ‘‘ of the largest, and consequently the heaviest proportion, would naturally require the co- “ lumn of the largest dimensions, proportion- “ ed to the height to sustain it.” The author’s position here seems to be, that a slender shaft is required to a Corinthian capital, merely because we are accustomed to such an arrangement. I think he might have found a reason in an as- sociation, which, whether natural or acquired, seems certainly to exist in the human mind be- tween slenderness and ornament. Massive strength appears incongruous ^^ith the delicacy of ornament : the ideas excited by the one, are those of resistance to opposing causes, which would expose to danger any highly wrought finishings; the other may have equal strength, but it is not so strongly expressed, and there- fore does not call to our imaginations the same ideas of opposing force. “ The progress of architecture has uni- ‘‘ formly been from ponderous solidity to ex- “ cessive lightness. The Greeks and Romans ** bound themselves by certain rules of propor- tion, before they had run into the latter ex- H “ treme. 98 J. WOODS, treme, and therefore never indulged them- " selves in the excessive lightness of the gothic architects, who recognised no rules, but worked merely for effect. Though the refinements of accurate propoition may have contributed to preserve the elegance and purity of taste, which distin- guishes the works of the ancients; yet they certainly tend to restrain genius, and prevent grandeur of effect, which can only be pro- duced by contrast, the direct rev’^erse of pro- " portion. In the cathedral of St. Peter’s at Rome, all the ornaments, sculpture, foliage, &c. aie of gigantic size, taken from a scale pro- portionate to that of the building : and this ligid adherence to uniform proportion has been admired as a very high excellence, though it has been universally allowed that the effect has been, to make the building ap- pear much smaller than it really is; and if it be a merit to make it appear small, it cer- tainly was extreme folly to incur such ** immense expcnce in building it large. ** The gothic architects worked upon principles diametrically opposite, and made ** all these parts of as small a proportion as was ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 99 was compatible with their being distinctly ** seen ; and the ornaments thus appear more ** light and elegant, and the very profusion ** with which they are scattered, in order to “ diffuse them over a large space, still extends ‘‘ the scale which they afford the eye for the measurement of the whole.’" I doubt if this doctrine of Mr. Knight be perfectly correct. The size of the ornaments at St. Peters is said to have the effect of diminish- ing at first, the apparent magnitude of the building, but it increases on you as you continue to contemplate it. If this be the case, one might conclude by a parity of reason, that the effect of the gothic style of architecture, arising in fact from a false estimate of the size of the or- naments, would gradually weaken,, as the edi- fice was more attentively considered, and in this point of view the palm of superiority would not be so decidedly given to the gothic. We will now proceed to the further explanation of his system. ‘‘ Dignity of attitude, is that disposition of ** the limbs and person, which from habitual “ observation of ourselves and others, we have learned to consider as expressive of a dignl- “ fied and elevated mind ; while grace and ele- H 2 ‘‘ gance 100 J. WOODS, “ gance of form are those dispositions and ‘‘ combinations of it which seem to express refinement of intellect, polish of manners, or pleasantness of temper. On this princi- “ pie there are no lines that may not be grace- “ ful, elegant, and beautiful, in proper situa- tions and circumstances; and none that are not “ the reverse, when applied improperly. This just application of them, just feeling alone “ can determine, for those who have attempted to regulate it by system, have only set up ** system against sentiment, and thus co-operat- ^ “ ed with the caprices of novelty and fashion ** in diffusing false taste through the world. “ The most ingenious way,” says an able au- “ thor, “ of becoming foolish is by system, and ‘‘ the surest method to prevent good sense to set up something else in the room of it. Zigzag walks, serpentine canals, spiral co- ‘‘ lumns, broken or scooped pediments, have “ all sprung from this systematic line of' beau- ty ; and for some periods triumphed over the common sense, and common feelings of man- “ kind. ‘‘ In architecture, indeed, this system has ** been less prevalent than in other arts ; which being less immediately appropriated to the “ uses ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 10 1 uses of common life, were less under the in- Alienee of common sense : for though spiral columns and scooped pediments were for a time in fashion, it was more with painters “ than architects; and painters have reasons peculiarly belonging to their own artforpre- “ ferring them. Undulating walls, and ser- pentine balustrades, have no where, that I know, been in use ; nor are curved roofs ‘‘ to be seen on this side China, except in imitations introduced into this country, by a “ person who gave equal proofs of the purity “ of his taste, when he censured the temples “ of Athens, and designed those of Kew. ‘‘ Some few attempts have lately been made, to adapt the exterior forms of coun- “ try houses, to the Various character of the ** surrounding scenery, by spreading them out “ into irregular masses ; but as our ideas of ir- “ regularity in buildings of this kind, have “ been habitually associated with those of the “ barbarous structures of the middle ages, a “ mistaken notion of congruity has induced us ** to exclude from them every species of orna- ment, not authorised by the rude, and un- skilful monuments of those times : as if “ that which is at once convenient and ele- H 3 ‘‘ gant, 102 J. WOODS, gant, needed any authority to justify its use. ** In all marked deviations, from the or- ** dinary style of the age and country, in “ which we live, the great difficulty, is to ** avoid the appearance of trick and affecta- ‘‘ tion, which seem to be in some degree in- separable from buildings made in imitation of ** any obsolete, or unusual style ; for, as the ** execution, as well as the design, of almost “ every age, and country, has a peculiar ** character, these imitations are scarcely ever ‘‘ in perfect harmony and congruity through- “ out ; but generally proclaim themselves at first sight to be mere counterfeits, which, how “ beautiful soever to the eye, necessarily ex- “ cite unpleasing ideas in the mind. A house may be adorned with towers, and battle- ments, or pinnacles, and flying buttresses ; “ but it should maintain the character of a house, of the age and country in which it “ is erected, and not pretend to be a fortress, ** or monastery, of a remote period, or distant ** country; for such false pretensions never ‘‘ escape detection, and when detected, neces- ‘‘ sarily excite those sentiments, which ex- ** posed imposture never fails to excite. Rus- tic ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 103 “ tic lodges to parks, dressed cottages, pastoral “ seats, gates and gateways, made of unhewn “ branches, and stems of tress, have all a still “ stronger character of affectation ; the rustici- ** ty of the first, being that of a clown in a pantomine ; and the simplicity of the others, ** that of a shepherdess in a French opera. The real character of every object of “ this kind, must necessarily conform to the use to which it is appropriated ; and if at- tempts be made to give it any other character, “ it will prove in fact to be only a character of ** imposture.’' Knight congratulates himself on the suc- cess of an experiment which he made, more than 30 years ago, in building a house ornament- ed with gothic towers and battlements without, and with Grecian ceilings, columns, and enta- blatures within ; but, I apprehend, that most of his readers will agree with me, in thinking that he has, in the above passage, justly and severely censured his own practice. He might have made his dwelling as irregular as he pleased externally, without exciting the least idea of its being any thing but a dwelling house of the 1 8th’ century : and he might have united Grecian ornaments to great variety of outline, to as beautiful, and I think as picturesque, an object, as any modern H 4< gothic 104 . J. WOODS, gothic villa can possibly be. The doctrine is most indisputably just, but the author’s applica- tion of it in his own case appears to have been false. In the chapter on Judgment, after some excellent observations on the appearance of probability, to be maintained in epic and dra- matic fiction, and a comparison between the two, our author proceeds to observe that, the personages of the epic are not subjected to the evidence of sense like those of the '' dramatic, and the imagination is therefore at “ liberty to form what notions of them it pleases; and it belongs to the art of the poet, to aggrandise and embellish those no- tions, in proportion as he wishes to impress his reader with grand and sublime ideas of ‘‘ the transactions which he relates. For this purpose a style uniformly elevated above that ^ of the common vehicle of social intercourse, “ is absolutely necessary; and a metrical style ‘‘ is more appropriate than any other, as it can sustain this elevation without being turgid, or “ transposed, and consequently can descend ‘I without being debased, and rise without be- ing inflated. Its ordinary tone is not that of common nature, but of nature elevated to enthusiasm, by supernatural inspiration ; and it ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 105 “ and it is by speaking in this tone, that the ** persons of the epic acquire a supernatural ‘‘ elevation of character, which the imagina- ** tion readily yields to them, because its decep- ‘‘ tions are never controverted by the evidence “ of the senses. “ This expansion of the imagination, by a systematic elevation of language, is one of ** the most efficacious means of giving poeti- " cal probability, or making supernatural events ** appear credible ; for, when once we have ‘‘ conceived supernatural ideas of the charac- ** ters, we expect them to perform supernatural " actions. The fictions of the Iliad are as ex- ** travagant as those of any common romance ; “ and if we read them in prose we immediate- ** ly perceive them to be so ; but the enthusiasm ** of the poet’s numbers so expands the imagi- “ nations of his readers, that they spontaneous- “ ly conceive ideas of his characters adequate “ to the actions which he makes them per- ** form. “ But even with this magical enthusiasm ** of verse, had Achilles been brought into “ action at once, and, without our having any previous acquaintance with him, defeated a “ whole Trojan army by the force of his single ** arm, 106 J. WOODS, “ arm, we should have turned away in dls- “ gust, from so absurd a tale ; but the poet has ** opened his character to us by degrees, and “ raised it by artful contrasts and allusions ** seemingly accidental, scattered through all “ the preceding parts of his poem ; every fa- “ culty of his mind, too, is upon the same ‘‘ scale as the strength and agility of his body, “ all that he says being distinguished by a glow of imagination, a fervor of passion, and “ energy of reasoning, peculiar to himself. “ Even the tender affections of his mind par- take of its greatness, and its pride : his piety is reverence, and not fear; his friendship ** gives, but never seeks protection ; his love imparts favor which it scorns to ask ; and his grief assumes the character of rage, and ex- “ pends itself in menaces, and vows of ven- geance against 'those who have caused it. “ By an artful concatenation of circumstances, he is shewn to the reader under the influence of every passion, by turns, all of which “ operate to the same ends, and conspire to “ swell his rage, rendered doubly dreadful by “ despair, and impending death. In this tem- “ per of mind, endowed with more than mortal strength, and clad in celestial armour, he is shewn ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 107 it it it it' it H it it it it it it it it a it it tt it ti it if it it if shewn advancing to the fight, like the au- tumnal star, whose approach taints the air, and diffuses disease, pestilence, and death. Such an image prepares the mind for the events that follow, which thence seem na- tural consequences, instead of extravagant fictions. Truth is naturally circumstantial, espe- cially in matters that interest the passions ; for that which has been strongly impressed upon the mind, naturally leaves precise, and determinate ideas, whence a narration is al- ways rendered more credible, by being minutely detailed ; provided the minute par- ticulars are such as really do happen in simi- lar circumstances with which we are ac- quainted. Hence we may account for the extreme exactitude with which the author of the Iliad has described every thing in which error or inaccuracy might be detected, either by experience or demonstration. The structure of the human body, the effects of wounds, the symptoms of death, the actions and manners of wild beasts, the relative si- tuations of cities and countries, are described with the greatest precision. The hyperboles “ are 108 J. WOODS, “ are all in the actions of his gods, and heroes. ** There are near twenty descriptions of the ** various effects of wind upon water, all dif- “ ferent, and all without one fictitious or exag- gerated, circumstance ; no Jluctus ad sidera tollitf or imo consurgit ad athera fundo, but “ the common occurrences of nature, raised “ into sublimity by being selected with taste, “ and expressed with energy.” I could not refuse myself the pleasure of transcribing the preceding observations : we will now return to objects more closely con- nected with the purpose of this essay. “ We have learned by habitual association (in this part I shall rather give an abstract of the author’s sense than copy his words) that certain forms of the limbs and body are adapted to great exertions ; and certain forms of the fea- tures to great expression, or the expression of great character, and lofty sentiment. It was by observing and selecting these, and even carrying them beyond what is found in ordi- nary nature, while each succeeding attempt excelled in force or harmony what had pre- ceded it, that the artists of the fine ages of Greece attained such unrivalled excellence in the ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 109 the representations of their gods, and heroes ; and not by copying any preconceived lines of grace and beauty. As all the effect of forms, in imitative art, is thus owing to that which they signify or express, truth is the principle, and foun- “ dation of all their power in affecting the mind ; for, in these cases, expression that is not true, ceases to be expression. If large muscles, limbs, and features, and a vast ** outline of body, do not imply a capacity for “ great exertions, but appear heavy, torpid, unwieldy, or disjointed, they are only great ** in size, but void of all grandeur of charac- ter. Even if they are drawn with so much ‘‘ skill and science, as to express fully and correctly tliis capacity, but are put into ac- tion in constrained or studied modes or pos- ‘‘ tures, or in such as the natural impulse of ‘‘ the occasion would not spontaneously excite, “ the expression becomes necessarily false, and “ affected, and consequently awakens no sym- ' pathy. We may indeed admire the skill “ and ingenuity of the artist, and feel surprised at the novelty and singularity of his inven- tions; but both our admiration, and surprise, ‘‘ will be of that kind which is caused by the “ distortions 110 J. WOODS, ** distortions of a tumbler, or the tricks of a mountebank.” The chapter on Judgment, from which se- veral of the last extracts have been made, is one of the best in the work. I shall make but few from the third part, which treats of the passions; not because there are not a great many excellent observations, but because they relate but little to architecture, or to any art allied to architecture. ** All sublime feelings,” says our author, “ are feelings of exultation and expansion of “ the mind, tending to rapture and enthu- siasm ; and whether they be excited by sym- “ pathy with external objects, or arise from the ** internal operations of the mind, they are ‘‘ still of the same nature. In grasping at in- ‘‘ finity the mind exercises its powers of multi- “ plying without end ; and in so doing it ex- pands, and exalts itself, by which means its feelings and sentiments become sublime. “ The same effects result from contempla- ting all vast and immense objects ; such as “ spacious plains, lakes or forests, high moun- ** tains, mighty ruins, and unbounded seas. “ Upon a similar principle, all works of ** great labour, and expence, are sublime; such ON THEORIES -OF TASTE. Ill * such as the wall of China, the colonades of “ Palmyra, the pyramids of Egypt, or the “ aqueducts of Rome; for, in contemplating them, the mind applies the ideas of the greatness of exertion, necessary to produce the works, to the works themselves. Great wealth too, is so nearly allied to great power, ‘‘ that the contemplation of its splendour ex- alls and expands the imagination. Phidias's colossal staitue of Jupiter, of ivory and gold, “ might havfe been equally well executed in ‘‘ plaster giltt ; but its effects upon the specta- tors would have been very different.” Knight does not seem to have been so suc- cessful in pointing out the sources of pleasure, in the inanimate world, as where he can shew our sympathy to be strongly engaged by any display of bodily or mental energy. In the’ shows of gladiators, or combats of wild beasts, the exhibition of courage and address, of spirit and fortitude, may excite the warmest admira- tion, and be a source of high enjoyment, to those whose feelings are not too strongly in- terested by the appearances of suffering. By selecting the sentiments, and actions, corres- ponding to such qualities, epic, and dramatic poetry, painting, and sculpture, are enabled “ to 112 J. WOODS, to raise those emotions within us, which are justly considered as the effects of the sublime. All this is clear and rational, but his explana- tion of the mere physical sublime is not equal- ly satisfactory. The effect of a building is by no means in proportion to the appearance of labour and expence bestowed upon, it. If the most exquisitely wrought ornaments do not add to the beauty of a building they had better be omitted ; they will not certainly increase the feelings of sublimity. “ It might naturally have been supposed,” observes Knight, in his concluding chapter, ** when standards of excellence were univer- ** sally acknowledged and admired in every “ art, that the style and manner, at least, of “ these standards would be universally follow- " ed, and that the wit and ingenuity of man ** would only be employed in adding the ut- “ most refinements of execution, to that which “ admitted of no improvements from inven- ‘‘ tion. But this is by no means the case : per- “ fection in taste and style has been no sooner reached than it has been abandoned, even “ by those, who not only professed the warmest, “ but felt the sincerest admiration for the mo- ‘‘ dels which they forsook ; the taste for pure “ design ON THEORIES OF TASTE. US ‘‘ design in Italy, arose and perished with Raphael, whose immediate scholars and siic- ‘‘ cessors, deviated into extravagance and dis- tortion. Though the passion for novelty has been the principal means of corrupting taste, it ‘‘ has also been a principal mean of polishing, “ and perfecting it : for imitation being in it- self pleasing, men are always delighted with ** the best specimens they have seen of it, be ** they ever so bad ; and it is merely the desire ** of something new, and not any pre-conceiv- “ ed ideas of something better, that urges them “ on to seek for improvement. As long as this restless desire of novelty can restrain itself “ in imitative art, to the imitation of real, genuine, nature; it will only tend to real “ improvement, and limit its gratifications to “ varieties of perfection, and degrees of re- finement : but when it calls upon invention, ** to usurp the place of imitation, or substitute t(^ genuine or merely embellished nature, na- ture sophisticated, and corrupted by artificial ** habits, it immediately produces vice, and ‘‘ extravagance of manner. Of the first, Mi- ‘‘ chael Angelo was a memorable instance ; and ‘‘ of the second, Bernini ; both of whom were I men 114 J. WOODS, ** men of extraordinary genius and talents ; « but stimulated into manner, and extravagance of opposite kinds by an insatiate desire of no- ‘‘ velty and originality. “ In no act has the passion for novelty “ had more influence, than in that of landscape “ gardening or embellishing and improving grounds. Whenever this art has been prac- ** tised in countries only partially and imper- fectly cultivated, as in the ancient Persian and Roman empires, and in the modern states of Europe till very lately ; it alvv^ays appear- ed to delight in a profuse display of labour, “ and ex pence; and in deviating as much as ** possible, from ordinary nature. In the vast ‘‘ and populous empire of China, on the con- ‘‘ trary, where every spot capable of produc- in 2: food is cultivated to the utmost extent of ‘‘ art and industry, the gardens of luxury, and grounds devoted entirely to amusement, ** are affectedly diversified with artificial rocks, irregular lakes, and ponds, and other Imita- ‘‘ tions of the wild varieties of uncultivated na- ‘‘ ture ; for there such objects are rare and novel, ** and consequently the possessing them dis- ‘‘ plays wealth and magnificence. “ Were we doomed to spend our lives with ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 115 with one set of unchanging objects, which “ could afford no new varieties either of sen- “ sations, images, or ideas; nor produce any “ new modifications, or dispositions, in those “ previously felt and acquired ; all around us “ would soon have the tiresome sameness of the “ walls of a cell. If to this were added the “ prescience of every event that was to happen “ to us through life ; so as to extinguish hope “ and expectation, and every feeling of sus- “ pence, or pleasure of novelty, it would be “ scarce possible for any gratifications that re- “ mained to render existence endurable. “ Man as he now is, is formed for the “ world as it now is ; in which ‘ Jie never is “ ‘ but always to be blest,' that is, his real happi- “ ness consists in the means, not in the end, “ The source and principle of it therefore is novelty.’" It seems to me rather inconsistent that Knight after having said to much against Michael Angelo, and others in different arts, whom he considers as the corrupters of purity of design and expression, for their love of originality, and eager search after novelty, to conclude at last, that novelty is the real principle of happi- ness. The proofs on this head, are also I 2 very 116 J. WOODS, very deficient ; there is a calm enjoyment of ourselves, of our feelings, and of our friends, which is very different from that restless desire of what is new, which Mr. Knight seems to consider as the sole source of enjoyment. The examples too by which he arrives at this con- clusion do not carry conviction. In all of them, what he attributes to the love of novelty, may be reasonably attributed to the desire of distinc- tion ; and if it should be asked how it happens that novelty should exeite admiration so as to be the means of distinction, it may be answered that it exhibits invention, or something like in- vention, an exertion of the human mind, the contemplation of which, according to the principles so well explained by Knight, would necessarily excite admiration. It is true an ex- tremely slight deviation, the smallest possible improvement on models of acknowledged ex- cellence, would exhibit more of that power to a person capable of feeling and comprehend- ing it, but the multitude would observe only the similarity and pass over the difference, and few people, however they may pretend to it, are careless of the voice of the multitude. Hence it follows that the rank that any nation will attain in works of art will depend in great measure ON THEORIES OF TASTE. 117 measure on the correctness of observation in matters of taste among the people. I am so far from agreeing with Mr. Knight in thinking novelty the only principle of hap- piness, that I can hardly think mere novelty a source of pleasure : though I will readily ac- knowledge that it greatly enhances other plea- sures. The principle which marks the progress of the fine arts both in improvement and de- cay, is the love of distinction, which will operate in their favour as long as the public is capable of appreciating real improvements, but the contrary when these improvements become so minute as no longer to excite general attention. I 3 Essay ESSAY ON BBIDGE BUILDING. By James savage. Read Feb. 22, 1808, and March 3, 1809. The many popular prejudices respecting bridge building and more particularly on the principles of arches ; the absurd observations that are frequently made by illiterate practical build- ers; and the ill-founded opinions that are en- tertained by other persons who assume a higher character, and the ridiculous arguments ad- vanced in support of those opinions, are, I hope, a sufficient apology for an attempt, though a humble one, to produce a popular essay on the subject. The analytic and algebraic calculations are understood by few, ridiculed by many, and can scarcely be expected to be brought into general use. And although to these we must eventually refer for positive accuracy, yet even I 4 these 120 J, SAVAGE, these have sometimes justly suffered disrepute for giving decisions on imperfect data, and stamping with ihcix fiat of approbation, projects, conceived without due attention to the many other requisites which practical experience alone can furnish. These theories imposing by their scientific appearance, and shrouded in endless equations, have sometimes been adopted from an incapaci- ty to disprove them, and being imperfectly comprehended to result in practice, has not always corresponded with the anticipations of the theory. The despisers of mathematical science (equally precipitate in drawing general conclu- sions from partial instances) have hence taken occasion to argue the inefhcacy of the mathe- melics in affording data on which to calculate the solidity of buildings. Hence it appears that a very desirable ser- vice would be rendered to the science in gene- ral, if the nature, intention, use, and applica- tion of the several mathematical propositions which are scattered in various authors, were collected, stated, examined and compared with each other; and their results compared with, and corrected by, facts and practical experience. Such ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 121 Such was the task the writer of this paper ori- ginally proposed to himself, without reflecting how little he possessed of the leisure or abilities requisite to perform so arduous a task with suc- cess. He therefore, requests the indulgence of the society for the imperfect manner in which he has at present treated the subject. Yet he still indulges the intention of attempting, as leisure may serve, the completion of his original plan. In arranging the few observations here submitted to the consideration of the society, by whose criticisms and further communica- tions, I hope to profit, that arrangement is adopt- ed which appears most obvious, though it may probably not be the most scientific, viz. to con- sider the several parts of the subject as they arise in the practice of bridge building. I purpose hereafter to enter more fully in- to a comparison of the merits of timber, cast iron, brick and stone bridges, and for the pre- sent shall merely remark that in some particu- lar instances where cheapness is desired more than beauty or durability, wood may be chosen : the same reason is sufficient for using brick instead of stone ; particularly in bridges upon a small scale. In some peculiar soils, also there may be sufficient reason to prefer a timber 122 J. S A V AG fil, timber bridge as the expense of foundations^ requisite for one of stone or brick, may amount to a prohibition, whereas the soil for a timber bridge will make comparatively, but little dif- ference of expense. Concerning those of cast iron I confess I entertain for them a considera- ble dislike, and except under very particular circumstances, and then upon a small scale, I think they should never be adopted. The black, bald, naked skeleton they present to my eye, is the reverse of beautiful : they appear fragile ; and in fact are hazardous and insecure. But passing by these for the present I shall con- fine myself, more immediately, to the consi- deration of brick or stone bridges. One of the first things to be considered is the place for the bridge, or that particular si- tuation which will contain a maximum of ad- vantages over the disadvantages. * “ In agitating this most important ques- “ tion, every circumstance, certain and proba- “ ble attending or likely to attend the bridge, “ should be separately, minutely, and impar- “ tially stated and examined ; and the advan- “ tage * Dr. Hatton. ON BRroOE BUILDING. 12S tagc or disad ^vantage of it rated at a value “ proportioned tto it ; then the difference be- ‘‘ tween the whole advantages and disadvan- “ tages will be llhe net value of that particular “ situation for which the calculation is made. And by doing the same for any other situa- tions, all theiir net values will be found, and of consequence the most preferable situation “ among them.. In this estimation, a great ‘‘ number of particulars must be included ; and “ nothing omitted that can be found to make a “ part of the consideration. Among these, “ the situation of the town or place, for the “ convenience of which the bridge is chiefly “ to be made, will naturally produce a particu- “ lar of the first consequence : and a great “ many others ought to be sacrificed to it. If “ possible, the bridge should be placed where there can con veniently be opened and made “ passages or streets from the ends of it in every “ direction, andl especially one as nearly in the “ direction of the bridge itself as possible, “ tending towards the body of the town, with- out narrows, or crooked windings, and easily “ communicating with the chief streets, “ thoroughfares,, &c. And here every person, ‘‘ in judging of this, should divest himself of “ all 124 J. SAVAGE, “ all partial regards or attachments whatever ; “ think and determine for the good of the “ whole only, and for posterity as well as the “ present.” A good specimen of the mode of com- paring the merits of different situations may be seen in Smeaton’s report on rebuilding Glasgow bridge. An important particular, not mentioned above, is to commit as little violation on private and existing property as possible. In choosing anew site for rebuilding a bridge you change the High Street, Establishing a new High Street is a work of time ; but the depreciation, I had almost said the annihilation, of the pro- perty in the old, is instantaneous, and not only the original High Street but all the leading and cross streets and avenues are affected to an ex- tent not always easily appreciated. The mo- dern practice is to give an ad valorem compen- sation for the deterioration sustained ; but this practice has its inconveniences; and the im- mense damages frequently awarded must tend to repress the spirit for public improvements. The banks or declivities towards the river are also of particular concern, as they affect the conveniency of the passage to and from the ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 125 the bridge, or determine the height of it. The breadth of the river, the navigation upon it, and the quantity of water to be passed, or the velocity and depth of the stream, form also con- siderations of great moment: as they deter- mine the bridge to be higher or lower, longer or shorter. However, in most cases, a wide part of the river ought rather to be cliosen than a narrow one, especially if it is subject to great tides or floods; for, the increased velocity of the stream in the narrow part, being augmented by the farther contraction of the breadth by the piers of the bridge, will both incommode the navigation through the arches, and tend to undermine the piers and endanger the whole structure. The quality of the bed of the river is also of great concern, it having a great influence on the expense ; as upon it, the depth and ve- locity of the stream, depend the manner of laying the foundations, and building the piers. There may sometimes be objections to choosing a wide part of the river. The water is there the shallowest, by diminishing the width you deepen it ; and if the bed is a thin stratum of hard substance, you run the hazard of having inse- cure foundations ; and it appears to have been Smeaton's / 126 J- SAVAGE, Smeaton’s opinion that something of this sort occasioned the destruction of the bridge at Hex- ham, built by that celebrated character. On the other hand, if the bed of the river is of a good texture the navigation is certainly im- proved by equalizing the depth of the channel : however in bridges which are well proportioned, the increased velocity of the stream will be but trifling, and therefore no ill effect need be expected therefrom : and the failure of the bridge at Hexham may be more reasonably attributed to the shallowness of its foundations. The bridge should at all times, if possible, be at right angles to the stream because thereby the piers present the least obstacle or smallest face to the current and have the benefit of their whole mass in opposing (or supporting the bridge against) the current. The convenient navigation of the river also demands the same arrangement. For similar reasons, Alberti re- commends to be avoided principally all elbows, because then the stream crosses the river obliquely, and objects floating on the river will not clear the bridge but strike against the flanks of the piers. In tide rivers the ebb channel and the flood channel are usually different : this evidently results from the angles of the different ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 127 different reaches or elbows in the river ; the bridge should be so placed as to suit both with the greatest advantage. In some cases, it is possible, it may be expedient to imitate the bridge at Rimini. The piers are there parallel with the stream though the bridge is not at right angles thereto. Had it been otherwise, the road over the bridge must have made an awkward twist with the line of the street, or the piers must have presented their flanks to the stream ; either of which would have been a greater defect than the method adopted. The next consideration is the top line of the bridge or road over it. — This will be deter- mined by the height of the banks or their de- clivities towards the river, the height of the water, and the height required for the passage of the craft that navigate upon it. The arches should be so high as that they may easily trans- mit the water at its greatest height either from tides or floods ; ^nd also at all times afford an easy passage for vessels. At the same time the disposition above should be such as to render the passage over it convenient. It is the latter purpose alone for which the bridge is built ; and the only question is how to effect this with the least possible injury to the navigation of the river, If possible, in other respects, a level line at top 128 J. SAVAGE, top is most convenient for the road way. It is said also to possess considerable advantages in point of economy in the use of centering. But this is perhaps not exactly correct, for instance, suppose that to Blackfriars or Westminster bridges the arches had been all of the size and height of the centre, the expense would, doubtless, have been very much increased ; and the na- vigation, to be equally convenient, would liot permit them to be lower. As to the preference in point of beauty, opinions differ ; I prefer the straight line as most simple, forming the best contrast with the curve of the arches and generally harmonising best with the surrounding scenery whether of a city or of a country ; at least where the banks are elevated : but the French practice of making their bridges straight at top, and then getting up to the extremities of them by inclined planes, has an awkward appearance : in an open flat country the bridge seems built more for shew than use. The top line may, therefore, gene- rally be determined by taking the lowest allowa- ble height that will do for the navigation, and forming the road in the best line to suit it. In some cases, as of many country bridges cross- ing a river in a valley, it is desirable to keep the bridge as high as possible ; here it is a good thing ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 129 thing to elevate it even at the expense of extend- ing a eausevvay at each end. By this, the road will be mended and the bridge exhibited to much greater advantage. The next thing to be determined is the springing line ot' the arehes. Alberti recom- mends that the crowns of all the arches should stand quite clear above the water. It appears from the context, by the crown he means the whole of the arch. The French practice is to spring them at the height of the highest tides and greatest floods, thereby allowing the great- est possible water-way for the floods. This is not generally approved of by English architects; the consequent flatness of the arches increases the lateral pressure, and bridges thus construct- ed are dependent wholly on their land-but- ments; or rather, the whole depends on every particular part, for if one arch or pier should tail, the whole must follow. — The expense is also increased and the beauty impaired, as the abrupt angle made by the segment of the arch with the perpendicular of the pier is offensive to the eye : on the contrary, the curve of a semi- circle or semi-ellipsis, losing itself in the line of the pier is pleasing and graceful. When it is considered that the weight of K water iso J. SAVAGE, water depends on the height of the column, a small diminution of the water-way upon the upper surface only, will not appear so material as to sacrifice the serious advantages that are obtained by a lower springing. Having determined the line of road over the bridge and the level of springing the arches, two or three sketches will readily shew the best number of arches nito which to divide the length, so as to obtain the requisite strength with the least possible quantity of materials. If too few or too many in number, you will not only get an excess of materials, but also ob- struct the navigation. If too many, by the number of piers; and if too few, by the thickness of the crown descending on the pas- sage way underneath. The number of arches, all authors agree, should be odd. Practitioners frequently offend against this rule. Alberti says, an odd number is always tlie most pleasing, and that the work is thereby stronger. I know of no motive suf- ficient for making the number of arches equal, unless the stream should have a double chan- nel ; and even that circumstance might proba- bly be as well accommodated by an odd num- ber. A good example of determining the num- ber OM BRIDGE BUILDING. 131 ber of arches from complicated considerations is exhibited in the Pont Neuf at Paris, crossing two arms of the Seine. Dr. Hutton says, “ in fixing on the num- ber of arches, let an odd number always be taken, and few and large ones, rather than “ many and smaller, if convenient: for thus “ we shall have not only fewer foundations and piers to make, but fewer arches and centres, “ which will produce great savings in the ex- “ pense, and besides, the arches themselves will also require much less materials and workmanship, and allow of more and bet- ter passage for the water and craft through “ them ; and will appear at the same time more ‘‘ noble and beautiful.” The nature of the bed for the foundations and the materials to be used will require to be adverted to. Should the foundation be a thin stratum only of hard substance, it might be ad- visable to make the arches more numerous, thereby lighter, and requiring less foundation ; and the Doctor Is mistaken respecting the ex- pense, for it is found that the latter mode will generally be the cheapest. If the top of the bridge be a straight horizontal line, the arches may be made all of a size ; if it be a lltdc K 2 lower 1S2 J. SAVAGE, lower at the ends than the middle, the arches must proportionally decrease from the middle towards the ends ; but if higher at the ends than the middle, they may then increase towards the ends. The latter case can seldom or ever occur, and need not in any case be adopted ; it would certainly be very ugly. We next have to consider the form of the arch. Alberti, Palladio, and other architects, recommend exclusively the circular, either semi ora segment not much less. Some more mo- dern authors also plead the authority of the ancients for excluding ellipses and other curves; but it is most probable, the ancients were igno- rant of the merit of other curves, and per- haps even of the mode of constructing them ; their authority on this subject is therefore worth V'ittle. Palladio (in reference to the lateral pres- sure) says semis arc stronger because they rest entirely on the piers, and never press upon each other. He further directs that as you di- minish the rise of the segment you must in- crease the foundation upon the banks. It is a vulgar argument frequently made use of by some who call- themselves architects, that be- cause the joints of a circular arch all tend to the ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 133 the same centre it must therefore be stronger. This argument is confidently given as con- clusive on the subject by Stephen Riou, in his pamphlet published about the time of building Blackfriars bridge. The ease with which the lines of a circu- cular arch are drawn may make many persons hastily adopt them rather than give themselves the trouble of delineating the other curves. Upon this head I shall again quote Dr. Hutton: — As the choice of the arch is of so great “ moment, let no person either through igno- ranee or indolence prefer a worse arch be- “ cause it may seem to him easier to construct; ** for he would very ill deserve the name or employment of an architect, who is not ca- pable of rendering the exact construction of these curves easy and familiar to himself; “ but if by chance a bridge-builder should be ‘‘ employed who is incapable of doing that, he “ ought at least to be endowed with such a share of honesty, as to procure some person ** to go through the calculations which he can- not make for himself.” And yet the French architects who are by no means deficient in mathematical knowledge, instead of the correct ellipsis use an oval form- K 3 ed 134 J. SAVAGE, ed by segments of different circles, for the pur- pose of tracing the arch joints with greater ease. In comparing the merits of the several forms we must consider them with reference to the end we wish to obtain. This will generally he a road level, or nearly so, supported by an arch leaving the greatest void under it. And as the bridge when built is not merely to support itself but to sustain heavy weights passing over it and pressing partially, the rattling of carriages, &c. it therefore requires solidity. With due consideration to these requisites, it will be de- sirable to reduce as much as possible the quanti- ty of materials, labor, and consequent expense. The way to do this will be by knowing how we may best apply the materials we have, so as to obtain from them their greatest strength for practical purposes. To pursue this inquiry systematically we must consider the nature of an arch, and the principles upon which depend its stability and permanence. An arch is formed by the apposition of courses of materials of a wedge like form, and if worked truly, and pressed proportionally, it cannot fail unless the pressure be so great as to crush ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 135 crush the materials. It will easily be conceived that some proportion must be maintained be- tween the different parts of an arch and the loading thereupon. Suppose the hutments to be immoveable, if you add weight on the haunches you will raise the crown ; if on the crown you will force out the haunches ; and this alteration of form produced by a dispro- portionate load upon any part will still more increase the disposition to change; as the altera- tion produces a form still less adapted to sup- port that extra weight. The whole must there- fore fall into ruin. The History of Pont y Pridd, a bridge over the Taafe, near Lantrissent in Glamorgan- shire, illustrates well the necessity of attending to the equilibration of the parts of an arch. In Malkin’s Tour through South Wales, it is described as the work of William EdwardvS, “ an uneducated mason of the country, who ** was only indebted for his skill to his own in- “ dustry and the power of his genius. He had engaged in 1746, to build a new bridge at this place, which he executed in a style “ superior to any thing of the kind in this or ** any other part of Wales, for neatness of v%wk- manship and elegance of design. It con- K 4 ‘‘ sisted 136 J. SAVAGE, ** sistecl of three arches elegantly light in their construction. The hewn stones were excel- ** lently well dressed and closely jointed. It was admired by all who saw it. But the “ river runs through a very deep valley that is more than usually woody, and crouded about with mountains. It is also to be con- ** sidered that many other rivers of no mean ** capacity, as the Crue, the Bargoed Taafe, “ and the Cunno, besides almost numberless ** brooks that run through long deep and well wooded vales or glens fall into the Taafe, in “ its progress. The descents into these vales from the mountains being in general very ** steep, the water in long and heavy rains collects into these rivers with rapidity and force, raising floods that in their description, “ would appear absolutely incredible to the in- “ habitants of open and flat countries, where the “ rivers are neither precipitate in their courses nor have such hills on each side to swell them with their torrents. Such a flood unfortunate- ly occurred after the completion of this un- “ dertaking, which tore up the largest trees by the roots and carried them down the river “ to the bridge where the arches were not sufficiently wide to admit of their passage. “ Here ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 137 Here therefore they were detained. Brush- “ wood, weeds, hay, straw, and whatever lay “ in the way of the flood, came down and collected about the branches of the trees that stuck fast in the arches and choaked the “ free current of the water. In consequence of this obstruction to the flood, a thick and “ strong dam, as it were, was thus formed. ** The aggregate of so many collected streams being unable to get any further, rose here to ** a prodigious height, and, with the force of its ‘‘ pressure carried the bridge entirely away ** before it. William Edwards had given se- ‘‘ curity for the stability of the bridge during the space of seven years ; of course he was ** obliged to erect another, and he proceeded “ on his duty with all possible speed. The ** bridge had only stood for about two years ** and a half. The second bridge was of one arch for the purpose of admitting freely ** under it whatever incumbrances the flood ** might bring down. The span or chord of ** this arch was 14?0 feet, its altitude 35 feet, “ the segment of a circle whose diameter was ** 178 feet. The arch was finished, but the para- “ pets not yet erected, when such was the pres- “ sure of the unavoidably ponderous work ** over 138 J. SAVAGE, over the haunches, that it sprang in the mid- “ die, and the key stones were forced out. ** This was a severe blow to a man who had ‘‘ hitherto met with nothing but misfortune in an enterprize which was to establish or ruin him in his profession. William Ed- wards, however, possessed a courage which “ did not easily forsake him : he engaged in it a third time, and by means of cylindrical holes through the haunches, so reduced their “ weight that there was no longer any danger ‘‘ from it. The second bridge fell in 1751; ** the third, which has stood ever since, was “ compleated in 1755. (See Fig. 5.)— In each haunch are three cylindrical openings run- ** iiing through from side to side. The width of ** the bridge is about 11 feet. To strengthen it ** horizontally, it is made widest at the abut- ments, from which it contracts toward the “ centre by seven offsets, so that the road way is 1 foot 9 inches wider at the extremities than at the middle,” , The destruction of the second bridge evi-, dently arose from the weight at the crown not being sufficient in proportion to the weight upon the haunches. That the due 'proportion was sufficiently approximated, by introducing the lightening circles, is proved by the stability of ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 139 of the bridge, for now more than half a cen- tury. This part of the subject has received the attention of many professed and eminent ma- thematicians and great light has been thrown on it by their labours. Mathematicians assert, and the opinion has been generally received, that the best arrangement is that of the equilibration of the materials ; and this they consider as emi- nently, if not exclusively, the principle upon which depend the stability and permanence of an arch. The two latest writers on the subject, and from whom we may therefore expect to derive the greatest assistance, are. Dr. Hutton and Mr. Atwood. For the complete view of their theorems, I must refer to their works : they establish their first propositions upon such simple principles and deduce their results so clearly step by step, that there can be , no doubt of the correctness of the results. Any one who will give thcn’r works a patient attention will be satisfied this is the fact. But in order that we may avail our- selves properly of the benefit of their labours, we must consider their data, or the way in which they look at the subject, and then we shall be able duly to appreciate their results. Mr. Atwood considers the subject on the principle 0 140 J. SAVAGE, principle of the wedge ; and the voussoirs as a series of wedges acting on each other by their weights and angles. Dr, Hutton in his first proposition considers the arch as a series of lines or bars, connected at their angles, where they are allowed to re- volve as if hinged. Certain weights appended at their joints will induce certain angles, and keep or preserve those angles as they are, or in equiJibrio. We have here, in pursuing the theorem, the means of forming the extrados or intrados having one given to find the other ; so that the whole may be in equilibrio. This theorem may be further illustrated by supposing a flexible flat bar so thin as to be a mere line bent in the form of an arch, and the ends turned up in a direction perpendicu- lar to the horizon, and secured in that vertical position. (See Fig. 1 and 2.) Imagine that line to be loaded as there drawn, the bar form- ing the line of the arch (or intrados of the whole mass) will then have no disposition to change its form. That load may be supposed to be formed by indefinitely thin bars placed side by side, vertically, or grains of sand ca- pable of moving every way. It is easy to suppose that if the weight is considerably diminished on the crown, that part of ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 141 of the bar will rise ; if greatly increased there, it would be depressed and the haunches pro- portionately rise. The theorem for construct- ing that line of loading or extrados is marked on the paper with the figure. We find that in .an arch whose curve ends in a perpendicular direction the load required over that part^is in- finite. According to this theorem therefore it should follow that we could not build a semi-cir- cular or semi-elliptical arch, for it is very evi- dent we shall never be able to apply that infinite load over the springing. In this theory of Dr. Hutton’s we see no attention paid to the circumstance of thickness in the arch (or the extrados of the voussoirs), but the extrados is considered as the top line of the loading over the arch, and the arch itself considered, vertically, as a mere line, and the incumbent loading perpendicular columns, or rather planes. This appears to me to be an im- portant deviation from the nature of a brick or stone arch. It may perhaps be applied with pro- priety to an iron bridge, which may be well con- sidered as a structure of lines, and not of solids. By way of further discussing the merits of these two theorems I shall submit some re- marks on the article bridge in Dr. Rees’s new Cyclopedia. Considering the extensive circu- lation 142 S A V A G E, lation of this work, its well founded getieral reputation, the talents of its editor and contri- butors, it becomes the more important to exa- mine carefully what is likely to have such ex- tended influence. On the theory of bridges, the Cyclopaedia says: — ** It will be seen by referring to the ** article Arch in this Dictionary, that we have ** adopted the opinion of those mathematicians who conceive that an arch is kept in equili- “ brium (or from falling) by the weight or ver- “ tical pressure of the superincumbent wall or ** mass. The principles on which they pro- “ ceed have now obtained the name of the “ theory of equilibration. “ It will be readily admitted by those who “ attend to these subjects, that whatever proper- “ ties may be shewn to relate to a geometrical “ or. lineal arch considered without thickness, “ and of its superincumbent plane, may be “ easily and safely transformed to a real arch “ of solid materials, and the heavy matter sus- tained by it : for it is manifest, that a solid “ arch may be conceived to be generated by ‘‘ the motion of a linear arch, and its plane in a direction perpendicular to that plane, ** or to be made up of an indefinite number of such equal linear arches and correspond- « ing ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 14S “ ing planes ; and in either case what is shewn “ to obtain with respect to the former, may “ without hesitation be applied to the latter/’f “ Thistlie reader will keep in mind. The first hint of a principle which we recollect, is contained in Dr. Hook’s assertion ; “ that the figure into which a chain or rope “ perfectly flexible will arrange itself when ‘‘ suspended from two hooks, is, when inverted, the proper form for an arch composed of stones of uniform weight. The reason as- “ signed for this principle is, that when the flexible festoon of heavy bodies becomes in- “ verted, still touching one another in the same points, the force with which they press on each other in the last case, is equal and oppo- site to the forces with which they draw each “ other in the case of suspension. The curve ** formed by a rope or flexible chain of ex- tremely small links when thus suspended, is well known to our geometricians by the ** name of the catenarian curve; by the French it is called la chainette. If a curve of this “ kind be disposed in such a manner that its vertex shall be uppermost, and if a multi- “ tilde of globes be so arranged that their “ centres (a) For this and the following references see the text, I5I; and following 144 J. SAVAGE, centres shall be in the circumference of this “ curve, they will all remain motionless and in equilibrium : much more will this equili- “ brium subsist if, instead of globes, we sub- “ stitute thin voussoirs, having flat sides, which “ touch each other in directions perpendicular ** to the curve. In the former case, the equili- “ brium will be destroyed very easily, just as a ** globe resting on a plane surface is easily put “ in motion ; in the latter, the equilibrium can- ** not be destroyed without considerable force ; ** just as when a heavy body is placed upright on “ a broad flat base, it will not only stand, but “ will require considerable force to push it over. Sinee the catenarian curve is readily “ described mechanically, it is no wonder that “ this principle of Dr. Hook’s should be very “ generally received ; but many of those who adopted it forgot that it could not be exten- “ sively applied without certain modifications. (These modifieations it will be seen further on, cause this principle to coincide exactly with the true theory of equilibration.) As “ to the contrary it is manifest from what we “ have already said that it is only the form of ‘‘ a very slender arch rib of uniform thickness, “ and unfit for the purpose of a bridge; which requires a considerable mass of masonry to “ lay ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 145 ** lay upon the arch and fill up the space to the road-way, thus completely destroying the equilibrium at first established in the arch « itself.(^) “ It would be possible indeed to construct ** a catenarian curve of equilibration having a ** horizontal line for the extrados, but then ** the thickness of the mass above the crown “ of the arch must be enormous : thus for a “ catenaria of 1 00 feet in span, and 40 feet “ high, the distance from the top of the arch to “ the horizontal extrados must have been near- “ ly 37 feet to insure an equilibrium.^''^ For ** these reasons the catenarian curve has been “ very seldom used in the erection of bridges. “ Another principle which was first as- sumed about the end of the seventeenth cen- “ tury, is, that every perpendicular column of “ masonry above the arch is merely kept from “ sliding down the arch by the next adjoining “ column. It is very obvious at first sight that this “ principle is not consistent with nature ; it has “ therefore found but few advocates.(‘^> When “ analytical expressions are deduced from the ‘‘ curvature of arches constructed on this prin- ciple, it is worth observing, that they coin- L cide 145 J. SAVAGE, cide exactly with those which would flow ** from the supposition that the arch was ivx equilibrio, in consequence of having a fluid with an horizontal surface pressing upon every “ part of it. A third principle is drawn from the con-? sideration of the arch stones being frustrums, ** or parts of wedges. This principle, we believe, ** originated in France, and has been present- ** ed in various forms by De la Hire, Belidor, Varignon, Parent, and other French philoso- ** phers, and lately by our ingenious country- man Mr. Atwood. In the method now “ alluded to, it is considered what weight, in ** or upon a wedge, is balanced by forces acting “ against the sides; or what force such a wedge exerts both horizontally and perpendicularly ** to its sides : and thence it is computed what ** must be the position and shapre of the conti- ** guous wedges of given . weights ; or what “ must be their weights to a given shape and ‘‘ position, so as just to exert the adequate de- gree of resistance required by the first wedge ; ** and so on, from wedge to wedge, till the whole is balanced. ** A mere arch constructed in this way, ** would remain in equilibrio as long as the “ constituent ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 147 constituent voussoirs bad liberty to slide, “ without friction, down the respective inclined planes on which they layX^ “ This method is, indeed, liable to many objections. First, this theory requires that ** either the density or the magnitude of the ‘‘ respective voussoirs, from the crown to the ** foot of the arch, should keep constantly in- creasing in proportion to the differences of “ the tangents of the several angles, which the joints of the voussoirs make with the vertical ‘‘ axe of the curve. Now, if the architect should wish to change the density of his “ materials in the required proportion, we know not what materials he could use ; for the density must always be very great towards ** the spring of the arch ; and in many cases, it must be infinitely great. If, on the other hand, the magnitudes of the voussoirs werq gradually increased, it would be necessary that ‘‘ those at the spring, and consequently the “ abutments should be immensely great, and often infinite.^®^ “ Besides that, the wedges must be cut to different oblique angles, very difficult in exe- cution, and totally unsafe when erected, L 2 as 148 J. SAVAGE, “ as the acute angles would be in constant dan- ** ger of flushing “ Here too, in real practice, there would * be a total want of balance, on account of the ‘ mass of masonry and rubble work, which * fills the space between the arch and road ' way.f’l ** But even this is not all ; the archstones * cannot be made, (nor indeed ought they) to ‘ act as the true mathematical wedge, the pro- * pertles of which were employed in attempt- ‘ ing to establish the equilibrium. The wedge ' of these theorists is supposed to have its but- ‘ ting sides perfectly polished, and to have ‘ its weight or other force on its back balanced ‘ by proper equivalent forces acting perpendi- * cularly against those sides. Now this is so * far from being the case in the practice of * bridge building that architects contrive to * have the butting sides of their wedges so ‘ rough as to occasion a great deal of friction ‘ between them ; and to increase the adhesion * of -these sides the more, they introduce be- ‘ tween them the best and strongest cement they can procure. By these means so far from the arch-stones being kept in their ** places € ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 149 places only by forces perpendicular to their “ butting sides; and having liberty to slide ** along those sides, as in the wedge theory, “ they are absolutely prevented from the pos- sibility of so sliding, and in a great measure, ** kept in their places in the arch by forces that act even perpendicular to those which the wedge theory requires/"^ “ On these accounts then, we conceive ** that, however specious and plausible this theory may appear on paper, it ought not to be admitted; since it is manifestly inapplica- ble to any case which can ever occur in ** real practice.("^ ‘‘ On the contrary, the theory which we ‘‘ have adopted, or that given by Emerson, in “ his fluxions, published in the year 1742, ** and which has been so ably and judiciously handled, by Dr. Hutton in particular, is con- ** sistent with nature and with truth. Ihis ** theory establishes an equilibrium among all “ the vertical pressures of the whole fabric con- ** tained between the soffit or underside of the “ arch, and the road-way over all. It is now very generally adopted by the most skilful ** engineers and architects, as the only true one ; ** because it secures a balance in the whole of L 3 “ the 150 1 ^iAVAG^;, ** the ponderatlng matter, by making an equali- ty at every point of the curve, between all the adjacent pressures when reduced to the ** tangential directions, or perpendicular to the ‘‘ joints, which are supposed to be at right “ angles to the curve of the arch in every part, ** as such structures naturally require them to “ be.C) For, if the joints be * not perpendicu- lar to the curve, there will arise a lateral pres- ** sure, whose direction is not along the tangent ; “ which, wanting a force to sustain it, will de- ** stroy the equilibrium, and some of the stones will endeavour to fly out.”f”^ I shall now proceed to make such remarks on the above quotation as have occurred to me, and which W'ill principally tend to shew that the two theorems are much more alike than the Cyclopasdist seems aware of : and this considera- tion will perhaps enable us to appreciate them both more justly. The letters of reference will lead to the particular paragraphs. What * The word not is omitted in the Cyclopaedia, but the con- text seems to require it. ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 151 (") What is true with regard to the lineal nrchi and the incumbent planet will hold equal- ly true and apply justly to the surface of the intrados generated by the horizontal motion of the lineal arch, and also the solid of the incum- bent load generated by the incumbent plane. But this does not generate a solid ajxh. A solid arch cannot be generated by one motion of a lineal arch. A line put in motion will gene- rate a plane, but that plane must be again put in motion to generate a solid. The paragraph is therefore ambiguous and incorrect, and I think we shall soon be convinced it requires some caution in transferring those properties to a real arch of solid materials. (b) A very slender arch rib.” This ex- pression is calculated to disparage it unjustly* being incorrect. For the rib need not of ne- cessity be very slender. It may be made as solid as any rib of voussoirs arranged in any other curve. The theorem is imperfect, not because the chain resembles a slender arch rib unfit for a bridge, but because as the writer justly remarks afterwards, it does not advert to the necessary mass of materials laying on the L 4 ex- (a) b, &c. These letters refer to the precedips quotatioB, See page 143, snd the intermediate pages. 152 J. SAVAGE, extrados of the voiissoirs to fill up the space to the road-way. There must be some mistake in this po- sition, for according to the definition of a cate- narian it is formed by a chain whose links are of equal size and weight ; and if arch stones are used instead of iron links, and the position inverted, it follows that the voussoirs should, in like manner, be of equal size and weight ; therefore the thickness of the arch, measuring at right angles to the curve, should be equal throughout. “ It is very obvious at first sight that this “ principle is not consistent with nature.” And yet this theorem is very similar to Dr. Hutton’s. “ A mere arch.” By this, the writer means to insinuate that this theorem looks at the subject as a mere chain of voussoirs ; but he overlooks the circumstance that part of the voussoirs may be turned into a perpendicular co- lumn, and ot course you may diminish the size of the voussoirs, by just so much as you want for the column of masonry to make your road to the required level either horizontal or ad libitum. “ As long as the constituent voussoirs ** had liberty to slide without friction, &c.” Ihe writer surely does not mean to say that if you ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 153 you unite the wedge more intimately (either by cement or by joggles, he. or increase the fric- tion by having rough surfaces) that the equili- bration will be thereby destroyed ! Any thing tending to prevent their moving cannot make them move. If they are equilibrated and thereby are disposed to remain at rest, much more will that be the case when their union is assisted by artificial means. It is very true this theory does require an increasing biutment as the lower angle of the wedge approaches the horixontal line, and when it coincides with the horizontal line, then (and then only) it requires an infinite butment. See Fig. 3 and 4. But we find the same fact from Dr. Hutton’s theorem : for the perpendi- cular load (required to sustain his lineal arch in equilibrio) increases from the crown towards the springing, and when the curve ends at right angles to the horizon (or in other words the tangent becomes vertical), the load required is infinite. See Fig. 1 and 2. This objection is therefore no just ground for rejecting Mr. Atwood’s theorem, and approving Dr. Hutton’s, as it equally applies to both. And the harmony of their results is rather a proof that both thorems are founded in truth. This harmony will 154 J, SAVAGE, will be further proved by comparing their lines of extrados to a certain extent ; till Dr. Hut- ton’s theorem of a lineal arch, and a perpendi- lar load, curves his line of extrados upwards. Whereas, Atwood having a series of wedges has equilibrated them by increasing their lengths. He therefore had no necessity to increase his dimension upwards. Although (as we have seen before) he might have applied his additional weight in any other form, and his result would have been exactly similar. Atwood’s theory does not necessarily require that the wedges be cut to different oblique angles. It may or it may not be done (at the option of the architect). Atwood very clearly gives the rules for two statical problems ; and which he has illustrated by two models. Fig. 3 and 4. First, having the angles of all the sections given, and the weight of the highest or middle section, he teaches to deter- mine the vveight of all the other sections. Se- cond, having the weight of all the sections given, and the angle of the highest or middle section, he teaches to determine the angles of all the remaining sections. — The architect there- fore has an option which Dr. Hutton’s system does not allow. The latter indeed we have seen ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 155 seen above, does not attend to the voussoirs at all. This appears to be another misapprehen- sion of the writer, for Atwood expressly says, rules are given for establishing the eqiiili- “ brium by adjusting the angles of the sections to their several weights, including the weights ** of the columns superincumbent,'' I have already remarked, these ex- traneous advantages will not make Mr. At- wood’s arch defective, and therefore cannot be objected to his theorem, as a theorem. And if we are to reject Atwood’s theorem because, ‘‘ how- ‘‘ ever specious and plausible it may appear on ** paper, it is manifestly inapplicable in any case which can ever occur in real practice,” we must equally reject Dr. Hutton’s theorem as it is also manifestly different from real prac- tice, Indeed by a mere practical man, At- wood’s theorem would be preferred, as he gives a real arch and exemplifies it by a real model, and the experiments and theorem are said per- fectly to agree. Whereas Dr. Hutton’s theorem is scarcely capable (as a lineal arch) of being exemplified by model or practice. Dr. Hutton in detailing his theorem, no where says a word on the joints of the vous- soirs 156 J. SAVAGE, soirs being at right angles to the curve. In his dictionary of terms, under the word voiissoir, he directs that their joints should be cut perpen- dicular to the curve of the intrados. He also says in the same place that the voussoirs should increase in size from the crown all the way down to the impost; the more they increase the better, as they will the better bear the great weight which rests upon them without being crushed, and also will bind the better together. This latter part is another incidental proof of the harmony between Dr. Hutton’s and Mr, Atwood’s theorems, so far from there being any contrariety or opposition in their results. But as the dictionary forms no part of Dr. Hut- ton’s theorem, if the form of the joints were essential to it, it was incumbent on him to insist upon it ; to shew the necessity of it and the ehect of a contrary arrangement. But the fact is, as we have already abundantly seen, his arch is a lineal arch, not?i substantial one. H Mr. Atwood’s model. No. 2, (see fig. 4.) demonstrates experimentally the absolute falsity of the above prognosticated effect of changing the angle of the voussoirs. There are also many instances where this practice has been adopted. And in judicious hands and under peculiar ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 157 peculiar circumstances it may be applied with perfect safety and probable advantage. It is frequently used to assist in supporting and di- recting the lateral pressure upon butment piers. Where the material is friable it must be admitted the acute angle would be liable to flush off ; and as far as that method is used it is similar to what workmen term gathering over : and that part of the voussoir beyond the tangential line must be considered as acting in the manner of a corbel supporting a projection; this therefore com- pletely resolves itself into a practical question, and if the material is sufficiently hard not to flush off, the equilibration will not be the less perfect, by the direction of the joints; provid- ed that direction is taken into account in the ad- justment of the equilibrium, which is the case in Atwood’s theory. In comparing these two theorems we must be struck with their coincidence in this respect; that as the tangent approaches the vertical di- rection, they each require an infinite support. But from their different mode of treating the subject, one requires an infinite perpendicular load, and the other an infinite horizontal but- ment. Had Dr, Hutton in his theorem, adverted to 158 3 , SAVAGK, to the thickness of the voussoirs and the direc- tion of the arch joints, the harmony of the two theorems would have been still more appa- rent as the inclination of the joints of the vous- soirs would throw off, to a greater distance, the inflection of the curve of the extrados. And this is the more important as the inflection of the curve and its approximation to a horizontal line (or at least a line convenient for the road- way), is made the criterion of judging of the comparative merit of the different forms for the arches of a bridge ; so much so, that flat seg- ments are recommended in preference to a larg- er portion of the curve as stronger, in direct contradiction to the position given elsewhere by the same author, that “ the higher an arch is ‘‘ in proportion to its span the stronger it is.’* A contradiction of this sort in an author, ought to make us pause before we venture to call his theorem ** the only true om;' and we may venture to doubt if that theorem is generally ** adopted by the most skilful architects and en- “ gineers.’* The Cyclopsedist, adverting to the curve of the extrados required by Dr. Hutton’s theorem for a circular or elliptical arch, re- marks, that it sometimes becomes unfit for a road- ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 159 road-way ; but observes, ** the evil arising from the inflection of the curve may be obviated in many cases, by throwing it to a greater dis- tance by a very simple expedient : for in an arch of equilibration as N. B. fig. 1, whose extrados is E. I. K. S. F, since the points at m, n, o, &c. are kept in equilibrio by the “ heights of the wall I m, K n, Lo, &c. if the lines I m, K n, L o, &c. be divided in ** a given ratio in i, k, 1, &c. the smaller mass under the new extrados as e, i, k, s, f, will still secure the equilibriiim. Now it is ob- vious that the lower extrados runs much ** farther from the crown than the upper one “ before it has a point of inflection : and hence “ appears one great advantage arising from the “ use of iron in bridges instead of stone. Sup- “ pose, for instance, that an arch was to be constructed having the span A, D, and height C, B, and that the necessary thick- “ ness of a stone arch at the crown wasB, S; - here it is plain, that if the road-way were “ made, having a practicable slope as S, K, a, - it would fall far below the required extrados ** at K, I, E, and consequently, the arch for want of a sufficient weight over the portion A, rn, n, and an eqilkl portion on the other " side if 160 J. SAVAGE, ‘‘ side the vertex, would be in constant danger of rising in the haunches. But a bridge formed of hollow iron voussoirs would be ** abundantly strong, with far less thickness over the crown, as B s; and then the true “ extrados e, i, k, s, f, would, in every part, “ have a proper slope for a road-way ; while at the same time the structure is in no danger ** of being destroyed for the want of an equili- ** brium in all its parts.’" This recommendation, flowing from at- tachment to an imperfect theorem, is pregnant with danger, and calculated to destroy that so- lidity so indispensably requisite in a bridge. For the strength of two bridges of equal width to support extraneous weight, where all the materials are disposed in equilibrium, that is, according to Dr, Hutton, in the best manner possible, will be nearly in proportion to the quantity of materials so employed, and there- fore the diminishing the thickness of the crown will proportionately diminish the strength of the bridge. Each of these theorists contend that the nearer his theory is approached the more perfect and durable will be the edifice. This opinion has been very gener^y admitted, and other properties ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 161 properties, because not calculable, have been wholly left out of the consideration as if their operation was wholly unknown, or as if it was equal in all cases. Almost every bridge that has been built, is a proof that there are properties in nature as well as resources in art, that assist in the solidity of buildings which these theorems leave quite out of sight. For no semicircular or semi-el- liptical arch ever yet built, has had either an infinite horizontal butment, or an infinite per- pendicular load over the springing. Practice proves that we may cut off this immense load and fill up the hollow, and yet the bridge will stand and perform all its functions; what then shall we think of that ingenious contrivance at the expense of solidity to throw to a distance the inflection of the curve of the extrados. Practice also proves we may dispense with Mr. Atwood’s infinite length of horizontal butment, and yet pass over the crown of the bridge with perfect safety. The properties of matter alluded to above, are vis inertia, friction, and cohesion ; besides the resources of art, as cement, joggles, cramps, &c. That these properties do not act merely as M an 162 J. SAVAGE, an extraneous advantage to the whole fabric by increasing its solidity, and thereby allowing a reduction of materials in the butment, or weight over the springing; but act throughout the whole and under their own peculiar laws may be thus proved. If they acted uniformly in favor of the structure, you might with equal safety, take away half the butment or half the crown, (see fig. 1, 2, and 3). We know we may with safety take half the butment, but to take away half the crown would be fatal. That their properties do not act in the ratio of the inclination of the angle of the wedge to the horizontal or vertical line is prov- ed, because if it did the arch might with safety be equally thick from the crown to the spring- ing ; which experience shews to be not the case. It appears to me that these properties act somewhat in the following manner. Gravity (or the disposition which matter has to tall perpendicularly, and which it does when unsupported) acts chiefly at the crown of the arch. It is this property alone which has been considered in the theorems of Dr. Hutton and Mr. Atwood, and considered in this point ’ of view the deduction is perfectly just ; “ that “ the ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 163 the greatest danger arising from an additional ** weight is when it is over the crown.” But if we consider the subject under this partial and im- perfect view, the danger is, that we may be in- duced too much to diminish the thickness there, and thereby sacrifice both strength and beauty. Vis inerti(3 [or the disposition matter has to remain at rest) acts chiefly at the butment, because there it has the best support. Friction acts all through the mass at all the joints, and in proportion to the contiguous surfaces, and is aflected also by the weights. It will be different in different materials, as they may be rough or smooth, soft or hard, and least of all in polished surfaces. Cohesion acts throughout the mass and according to the tenacity of the material. The above properties of matter will not alter the principles of equilibration, but will and do assist in dispensing with it, and a due consideration of them will give a different pro- portion for the different parts of a bridge to that which results from considering them in reference to one property alone, viz. gravi- ty. And thus the whole fabric may be made stronger, by adding to the slightest part {i. e. the M 2 crown) 164 J. SAVAGE, crown) and more convenient and cheap, by diminishing the bulky part (z. e, the pier or hut- ment). In other words, by an attention to these properties we shall be enabled with a given quantity of materials, to dispose them in a bet- ter form than that required by the theorems of Dr. Hutton or Mr. Atwood. Although analytic expressions cannot be applied to these powers, they are principles which address themselves to the understanding and the senses ; they are capable of being il- lustrated, both by demonstration and experi- ment, and therefore, certainly ought not to be excluded when considering the nature of an arch, and the principles upon which depend its stability and permanence. I do not think it would be possible to make any calculations of the force of these powers so as to reduce them to a theorem ; but great light might be thrown upon the subject by experiments with models, and still more by attending to the mode in which arches have failed. By comparing the history of the failure of Pont y Pridd, v/ith the fact of a number of bridges standing whose lines are very different from those required by the theory of equilibra- tion. ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 165 tion, it should appear, the slighter the fabric, the more nearly its form must approach the theory required by simple gravity ; and this will also appear just from considering, that the other pro- perties will only exist in proportion to the mass and quantity of materials; that is, as the quanti- ty of materials is diminished so will the powers of vis inertia, friction, and cohesion be di- minished. And where they are least of all, as in cast-iron arches, perhaps the theory of equili- bration will apply with most advantage : but even here the uncertainty of those theorems is evidently very great, from the varying and contradictory opinions of the mathematicians who were consulted respecting the cast iron arch of 600 feet span, proposed some time back, to be erected in the place of the present London bridge. And again, by the failure of the cast iron arch at Staines, 181 feet span, al- though built under the direction of the en- gineer of Sunderland bridge, an ingenious man, and possessing the experience of that structure. As utility and beauty are requisites in ar- chitecture, as well as durability ; it is of conse- quence to know, that we may with not only M 3 safety 166 J. SAVAGE, safety but advantage, depart from those theorems of equilibration. Fig. 6, is a representation of the arch of Pont y Pridd, equilibrated accord- ing to Mr, Atwood’s theorem, by increasing the size of the voussoirs. The upper line is the line of extrados required by Dr. Hutton’s theorem. In comparing these lines with fig. 5, we shall find that the present actual load over the haunches is somewhat less than that requir- ed by Mr. Atwood’s theorem, and much less than that required by Dr. Hutton’s theorem. With a given span and rise, the elliptical form will generally be found the most con- venient and beautiful for a bridge : it enables the arches to be wider than if semicircles are used, and the haunches are more elevated than in segments of circles, thereby allowing better passage for the craft and water. But when the arch is wholly above the water a segment may be used with equal advantage, and if the rise be very small in proportion to the span, the seg- ment wdll be most beautiful. The higher an arch is in proportion to its span (ceteris paribus) the stronger it will be, and the flatter it is, the greater will be its lateral pressure. Circular ON BRIDGE BUILDING. 167 Circular arches have oftener failed than elliptical. A circular arch is found to settle most about the haunches, sometimes so much as to become nearly a strait line. The flat oval arches of the Pont de Neuilly settled most at the crown. That part was formed with a circle of 160 feet radius; but when settled it became an arch of a circle of 259 feet radius, rising only 6 inches J in a length of 33 feet. The de- fect of the second bridge at Pont y Pridd might have been obviated by flattening the lop, as well as by introducing the lightening circles in the spandril : and the road over it would have been thereby much better than at present, which is inconveniently steep. To he continued,'] M 4 Essay r ESSAY OM F O U N D A T I O N S, Part II.^^ By JAMES ELMES. Read to the Society on Friday y 9,9th April, 1808 , INTRODUCTION. Having thus quoted the opinions of some architects, whose practical and theoretical knowledge, have procured for them the just distinction of masters in the science, I shall proceed in the first Section of the following essay by way of summary, to collect them to a * The first part of this essay contained the doctrines of Vitruvius, and the Italian authors quoted at length, but as they are here investigated and can be referred to in the originals, it was thought unnecessary to publish it. 170 J. ELMES, a focus, which I shall denominate the ancient practice. In the second, to narrate my own me- thod in common cases, detailing some difficul- ties that have occurred, with the methods used to overcome them, and the event of their suc- cess. And in the third, a compendium of rules drawn from the above sources, which I shall call the modern English practice of forming foundations. Section 1. The Summary of Ancient Practice, We observe in all the authorities before cited, without exception, a jealous solicitude towards a knowledge of the component matter of the substrata, more necessary for the volcanic ter- ritory of modern Italy, than the more solid and secure soil of Great Britain. Sir H. Wotton, the only Englishman I have quoted, (because he found it in Palladio and others,) directs wells to be dug to obtain that knowledge, and has given it as a maxim never to be omitted. It is undoubtedly an ex- cellent practice where wells are wanted before- hand ; yet, I do not think it so indispensably necessary in this country, as to be performed solely ON FOUNDATIONS. 171 solely for the purpose of investigating an intend- , ed foundation, for the most usual and common kind of houses, Vitruvius, as before observed, very judi- ciously leaves much to the discretion of the ar- chitect, who, if worthy of the name, will be at no loss in accommodating his intentions to the occasion, and his means to the difficulty. This observation, from the reputed father of the profession, proves to my mind, as clear as history, that he was as much an executive as we are certain he was a theoretical architect. Reason would dictate, if Vitruvius did not, that foundation walls should be thicker than those above them ; such general observations convey but little information ; but he affords something more like certainty as to a mini- mum, and from which we may draw an in- ference as to his general practice, when he says, the footings should be thicker by half than the superstructure. As for the depths he deter- mines nothing more, than to dig down to the solid earth. If the ground was weak, swampy, or marshy, he dug it all out and well piled it. In other respects his mode of practice did not sufficiently differ from ours to make it worth re- capitulating. Palladio 172 J. E L M E g. Palladio defines the foundation to be that part which is underground, and sustains the whole weight of the edifice ; he is therefore justly solicitous that no error should be commit- ted, or defect suffered to escape notice, in this important part of the building. He prefers a na- tural foundation, or one which, without assis- tance from art, will sustain the most cumbrous structure in either land or water. He does not essentially differ fromVitruvius (whom he much studied) except in determining the depth of a foundation to be at least, one eighth the height of the wall, and even more when cellars are used ; which may then be made of such additional depth as (his translator renders it) to an artful architect may appear necessary. I think if a modern architect was to make such a prepos- terous footing to a house, a jury of twelve honest men, in spite of that great author’s authority, would pronounce him to be really, a very artful architect ; and one who paid a due regard to the quantum of per centage on his labors, as well as the stability of his edifice. An architect of our own times, in a nutshell full * of excellent observations. * Nutshells, by Jose Mac Packe. ON FOUNDATIONS. 17S observations, says, that a little stronger than strong enough, is a good maxim in building: admitted — but as the two extremes of the mean point of strong enough, are errors, that archi- tect is surely to be preferred, who by judicious calculations and attentive study (which should always be recommended to the architectural student) arrives at that desired point ; rather than by an overcareful desire of being a little stronger than strong enough, commits a waste of his employer’s money, by employing timbers or erecting walls of double or treble the requir- ed dimensions. These memoranda are not in- tended for the medium of that school of archi- tecture, which the above mentioned author plea- santly calls, the St. George’s Fields and Mary le bone School of Temple Builders, to whom, as he observes, it would be flat heresy. AVe need not fear their encroachments on this extreme. Of building in water Palladio says but lit- tle 5 neither have I been very solicitous to seaich for the methods used by the old masters on that head ; thinking it of sufficient impor- tance for a separate treatise. From his direc- tions for piling a foundation, I take leave to differ in part. He says the length of the pile must be an eighth part of the height of the in- tended 174 J. ELMES, tended wall, to be erected on it ; I cannot al- low this to be an invariable maximum. So long as it is driven to the solid, whether it is a fourth or a fourteenth part of the propor- tion given by Palladio ; I conceive it to be the most proper length. He orders the piles to be driven so contiguous to one another, that no others can be set between them; but this is cer- tainly a needless waste; as a due lateral or trans- verse compression of the soil is better obtained by moderate intervals, than such close ones as to ex- ude the earth.* Their diameter was a twelfth part of their length ; by which rule a pile 12 feet long must be a foot square. In my opinion a much smaller diameter would be preferable ; as every builder knows what an immense weight a perpendicular post or column will sustain, when prevented from leaving its perpendicularity. He preferred repeated gentle blows to violent ones, for driving them, and with reason ; he also * In Piranesi and other delineators of the antiquities of Rome, the piling is often represented, so thickly planted, that the soil must have been entirely excavated to admit so many, and thickly driven piles. Vide particularly the foundation of the theatre of Marcellas in the above mentioned engraver’s works. ON FOUNDATIONS. 175 also drove them under the inner or cross walls, which ought never to be omitted when they are to be carried up to the same height, or have heavy partitions or floors to sustain. This ar- chitect (Palladio) made his foundation wall twice the thickness of the superincumbent one, (which is a better proportion than that of Vitru- vius) and diminished upwards ; the ancients, he observes, paved the trench with stone, but in his time they used plank. He also recommends some foundations to be arched, but leaves us in the dark as to the manner. It would be but repetition to analyse Sir H. Wotton’s directions, which are evidently more derived from former authors, than from his own practice ; and Alberti’s is so similar, ex- cept in being more diffuse and mathematical, that I think I may here conclude the summary of ancient practice.^ Sect. * The quotations made in the first part of this essay and here again referred to, are from Vitruvius, lib. 1. cap. 5. lib. 3. cap. 3. and note by Newton, lib. 5. cap. 3. lib. 6. cap. 11 . — Pal- ladio j lib. 1. cap. 7. — Alberti ; lib. 3. cap. 2. lib. 3. cap. 3. lib. 3. cap. 5.— Sir Henry Wotton’s Elements, and the former part of the Essay, 170 J. E L M E S, Section 2. The Author'' s Method of Practice. In detailing what I have presumed to call my own method, I trust that instead of being accused of egotism in the too frequent repeti- tion of the personal pronoun /, the wish of conveying my information on the subject, will counterbalance the defect. In that description of houses, which comes more frequently under our direction than royal palaces and splendid mansions, I think the best manner is, to sink the base- ment story to the intended level ; digging the plan of it in every break, as little larger as possible, rather than a large square, that would extend beyond every part of it ; because new made earth thrusting against new built w'alls is to be avoided when possible ; and by this means the earth supports itself all round, till the walls are suflticiently dry. Dig the footings uj)on an average 2 feet 6 inches below the above level, and cut under the perpendicular of the square of the basement story, for the spreading of the foot- ings, for the same reason as before m ntioned. If piles are necessary, I should order them to be driven \ ON FOUNDATIONS. 177 driven upon the before quoted principle of Pal« ladio, with the exceptions I there made. I wish here to take occasion to observe, that I give the preference most decidedly to the engine pulled by ropes and men, to any of the machine pile-dri- vers yet invented, as the furious heavy thumps, given by the latter, are by no means equal to the continuity and regularity of the former. Sleepers 2 ^ times longer than the width of the superincumbent wall, should then be laid across the trench, at intervals not more than 2 feet asunder, to be filled in with brick work, level to rhe top; but no njortar suffered to touch the timber; sound oak or fir plank should then be laid upon them, well intersected and fastened together at the angles. If fir plank is used and there is any appearance of sap or looseness of texture on the outside, it should be carefully sawed off. The foundation wall is now to be erected thereon ; the method I usually adopt and re- commend, is to have the bottom course, if for an external wall, twice the width ; and if for an internal or partition wall times the width of the superincumbent wall, but invariably to be of equal depths, for if it should be less in depth, (a foot for example,) there will be four N joints 178 JU ELMES, joints or nearly 3 inches in common work less to compress or settle than the external walls. Two courses of the above dimension are then to be carried up perpendicularly, and then 2 more courses perpendicularly ij inch on each side less than the lower, and so on gradatirrit by ofFsetts of inch on each side, every two courses, till it arrives at the intended thickness of the wall. The footings must be spread round every break, chimney breast or projec- tion. When the soil is a fine hard gravel or gravel and clay of an equal consistency all round, the piles, sleepers and planking may be entirely omitted. I have tried it on a fine gra- velly foundation ; on which a very heavy build- ing, the upper part of the walls being in many places 4 bricks thick, has been erected more than four years ; and it has neither crack or set- tlement. Some Difficulties detailed. In pulling down and rebuilding a house of very large dimensions, in the city, the front of the new house was to be set so* far back from the street, that the new foundation stood about 1 foot 3 on the old foundation, and 2 feet 3 on the earth in the inside. Precautions were ne- cessary ON FOUNDATIONS. 179 'CC5sary to make the new foundation as hard as the original one ; it was, therefore, very care- fully piled, with intervals of about nine inches, every pile driven by an engine pulled by ropes and men, as far as it could be, and then sawed oft level ; each pile was shod with iron, rather more obtusely than is generally practised ; for it is my opinion, that to keep the piles from splitting, and to break or remove any partial obstruction, is all that is wanting in this opera- tion of shoeing the piles with iron, which is much better effected by these, than with such very lancet-pointed piles as arc often used. The foundations were prepared, and the footings laid in the manner I have just now directed. The front both of the basement and ground stories, was to consist of very large openings, and small stone piers; the walls upon the footings were carried up to the level of the bottom of the base- ment windows, with inverted arches of semi-cir- cles, under every opening; the diameter of which were 18 inches longer than the width of the intended windows over them. When all was levelled, the stone piers were set on the junctions of every arch (according to the diagram}*, N 2 and * Vide ptate. 180 J. ELMES, and carried up to the height of the ground-floor arches, and the basement arches inserted after- wards. The front was upon that carried up of brick three very lofty stories ; yet, with all these precautions, the front has receded from top to bottom, nearly three inches. The fact has been accurately ascertained, on the account of an accusation being hinted that sufficient care had not been taken with the foundation ; but it was decided in its favour. Another case I wish to intrude on your time by detailing is, that in preparing the foundation of an intended ware- house for the heaviest description of goods, two large and deep cesspools of old privies were found under the bottom planking of the old foundation : they were too large to admit of arches being turned completely over them, as the upper surface of the arch, if constructed properly, would have risen too high for the windows of the basement story, and it was deemed imprudent to trust to planking laid across as before, the old building having been only dwellings. Four piles wide across the founda- tion were therefore well driven at the extremi- ties of each hole, the extreme w'idth of the trench; and scjuares of piles, about three wide and four across, were driven as piers, leaving openings ON FOUNDATIONS: 181 Openings four feet wide ; they were then sawed off level, capped with a large stone, a pier brought upon each, and flat arches turned from one to the other, the whole length of the foun- dation. This has completely answered the pur- pose; for the superstructure is perfectly free from any appearance of partial settlement, though it has been heavily loaded three or four years. This method would be a more econo- mical way of piling a foundation, where it is necessary, than the common way of driving them thick set, as nearly five-sixths of the piles and labour of driving might be saved ; and when the spandrels between the arches were levelled up to their crowns, it might be sleepered and planked if wished, in the manner of a good foundation, or the insistent walls erected on them without. I shall certainly again adopt it ' on the next occasion that such a case comes under my direction.* On Brick-bond in Foundations^ A more important point cannot be well N 3 conceived * I have again tried it and with equal success, April 1810. 183 J. ELMES, conceived than the necessity of a proper ob- servance of bond (as the workmen term It) in the foundation ; as every previous caution and care may be entirely frustrated by a negligent or bad method of laying or bonding the bricks, although it Is of prime necessity in every story of the building ; and as I have paid considera- ble attention to this point, I trust the following remarks, which shall be as brief as possible, may not be deemed intrusive or misplaced. In every two perpendicular courses of the footings according to the before mentioned manner of construction, I would have the lower one laid stretching or longitudinally, and the upper one heading or transversely : by this method two inches of the brick is uncovered, and 6^ inserted, under the solidity of the next two courses, and the superincumbent wall ; but if it Is reversed by carelessness, for it is no addi- tional trouble, and the stretching course is up- permost, then 2 inches Is, as before uncovered, and only 2 ^ covered by the next two courses, and no part of it whatever compressed by the solidity of the walls. The insistent weight in this case hoists the uninserted part of the brick upwards, and removes the intended weight from the extremity of the footing to the per- pendicular ON FOUNDATIONS. 183 pendicular line of the wall : rendering the spreading part of the footings ot no avail. I have seen instances of this, and can, if requir- ed, point them out. Instead of laying the bricks in the interior of the wall or filling it in, (as it is generally called) after the external courses are laid, directly across the wall, they should be laid alternately, diagonally, transvers- iy, and diagonally the contrary way : filling in the interstices next the outside courses with such pieces of brick as always surround a brick heap in a building : each course to be grouted with a grout composed of the mortar used in the works (which I presuppose to be of good lime and sharp river sand) and water. A small additional expense is only thereby created, and it is much superior in quality as a ce- ment, as well as less expensive, than a grout made of fresh lime alone and used hot, which invariably shrinks from the brick ; as the ex- amining a dislocated gaged arch will fully con- vince. The next observation militates so complete- ly against the usual method of practice, that were I not fully convinced of the dangerous tendency of the old method, I should apolo- N 4* gize 184 J. KLMES, glze for attempting to deviate from a practice as old as any brick work I have ever yet seen. It is well known that in the coins of all buildings, a brick laid at the angle is heading one way and stretching the other; and that in the same level one course lays with the leading or coin brick heading, and the other stretching. To prevent the joint of the next course from coming directly upon that of the lower, a piece of brick wide is laid next to the header, and called a closer. This is what I would alter, at least below ground, or where a supposed beau- ty of appearance is not preferred to real strength. My objection is this ; it is usual to lay at the angle a brick heading, next to it a closer, then a continuation of bricks heading: then, in the next course to layover it a brick stretching, that reaches to half the first heading brick next the closer, so far all appears right, but in the filling in all headers are laid which makes them all upright Joints inside the wall, as I have found by running a rod three or four feet down the middle of the wall without a brick to interfere till a larger or smaller sized brick breaks them ; but it happens invariably so at the angles where it ought to be strongest. The remedy I would propose, though it might at first look unsightly, but ON FOUNDATIONS. 185 but which is no objection, is to lay the closer immediately at the angle, and then the headers adjoining, and reversing it pursue the same mode for the return wall the other way, or else to set the angle brick half out or half in the wall, in alternate courses in each face of the two walls which will produce the same effect and save labor and waste of cutting bricks. Now I am on the subject of brick-bond, I will take the opportunity of hinting at another very com- mon, but fatal error, committed by workmen. At the upright coin of a brick and half wall, or pier, it is also usual to lay the closer next the header on both sides of the wall, and by so doing the bricks are joint upon joint all the length of the wall, except a | brick happens to intervene. It is needless to expatiate on what unsound work this must produce, or the con- sequences, if part of the foundation is softer than the other a complete separation must en- sue, as it is only on the face that a fictitious bond is observed. To remedy which defect, and make the wall much stronger, lay a header and closer in the heading course, and a whole brick in the stretching course on one side, and J of a brick in the stretching course, and all ^leaders and no closer in the heading course on the 186 I. ELMES, the ojther. I have endeavoured to render this more clear by two diagrams, one of the usual and the other of the proposed method. A and B in both figures represent a brick and half wall, having an upright coin at A and a tooth- ing at B, the black lines represent a course of bricks, and the dotted another course laid upon or under it : the dotted lines nearest the scale in both diagrams are stretching courses, and the black lines heading courses, and vice versa. Fig. L shews the usual manner, and Fig. 2. the proposed way. I would in the angles as well as in the other parts fill in the inner courses alternately, diagonally, transversely, and dia- gonally the contrary way. Of Chimney JBi easts, JBows, and other Project tions. In preparing the foundations for, the foot- ings of chimney breasts, semicircular, or mul- tangular, bows, or other projections, inwards, or outwards, from the face of the wall ; it is much the best way to prepare them, so that the foundation from the wall to the point or line farthest from the face should be progressively raised from the wall outwards, in proportion to. the ON FOUNDATIONS. 187f. the height it is to be carried, or the solidity of the work ; that in settling, it may approach nearer to a level, or if it does not it appears sounder to the eye as well as being so in fact, to have it rather mounting upwards than dip- ping downwards and separating from the wall as it infallibly would, without such precaution. Precaution , — The architect to whom I am indebted for initiation into the first rudiments of my professional knowledge, directed a semi- octangular bow of great size that was to be built in lieu of a portion of the rear front that was taken down from an extraordinary sound, and well built house, to be kept two inches out of a level from the wall to the extremity of the bow,; thje indents to be cut very upright and well plastered, and. to be worked .with great care and precision. The result was equal to his expectations, the bow settled nearly to a^levgl,. ^ and looks, though finished above |wenty years, as if it had been originally erected with the house : the points are upright*, and neither crack or separation of new from old can be . perceived, although the facias, and gaged work cornices, of the old front, are worked all round the bow, and mitred at each extremity to the old work. Sect. 185 J. ELMES, Section 3. Compendium of Rules, e r -- the - modern - English of the foregoing Essaj/. I beginning this section once more deprecate severity, in thinking mepresump- tuous or dictatorial in calling this the modern English practice of forming foundatioi^. And at the same tin^ request your assistance in mak- ing such amenoments or additions to the scheme as in your judgments may appear necessary,' I distinguislXthe trench from the brick-work or masonry by calling one the foundation, and the other the footings an Observation 1. insistent walls. The foundation^^jftHst- be truly level,! tranaversely a t ^d - longitedinally. .A 2. — The interior^^tition walls, must be Of « 04 e^as the exterior, or main walls*, wfei* one uniform level. 3. — Inverted arches should be turned un- der & ^ening^ in buildings of considera- ble size. 4. — The foundation must be well prepared by ramming, piling.^'^planking, according to the necessity of the case. 5, — -Foundations and footings of chimney ' breasts. ON FOUNDATIONS. 189 breasts, bows, projections, should be made to rise progressively from the face of the wall outwards. ' , I wish this last section to be considered as open for further amendment, consideration, and alteration, therefore request the favor of • any communication on the subject, the result of practice, or scientific inquiry; from the members of the society, or the profession at large. ^ ^ against new built walls. JAMES ELMES. 9, Tavistock Place, Russell Square. THE END, Printed by Cox, Son, and Baylis, Great Queen Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London. This Day is published in Impcrml Folio y * Price £i 15j. IHustratccl by Figures of the principal AnU ]ue Examples, drawn to one Scale, from the best Authorities, on seven Plates: AN ESSAY ON THE DORIC ORDER OF ARCHITECTURE, CONTAINING An Historical View of its Rise and Progress among the Ancients, with a critical Investigation of its Prin- ciples of Composition and Adaptation to modern Use. By EDMUND AIKIN, Arch ITECT. Ttate I. nv ^ Londc7i FublLFh 'd J". Taulcv. Hi^h Holbortx .