1843.] 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER AND ARCHITECT'S JOURNAL. 



107 



angle of vision of 43-0, and occupy the whole retina with multiplied im- 

 pressions fairly and agreeably presented. 



With reference to the first proposition, it may he observed, that in a young 

 tree bursting from the ground, two or three branches with upward tendency 

 grow from the polished bark ; the subdivisions are few, and we may count 

 the leaves. By and bye, with age and maturity, the bark becomes rough 

 and corrugated, the base is surrounded with excrescences and roots, which, 

 partly above the ground, indicate the hold it has on alt the surrounding 

 space ; the branches now shoot out at right angles with the bulky stem, 

 each limb becomes a tree, the subdivisions of these are infinite, and, in all 

 degrees of size and proportion, the leaves are countless. So the young 

 animal, simple in parts, and smooth, expanding with age and strength, de- 

 velops features and subordinate parts never dreamt of before ; furnished 

 and complete, the measure and fullness of strength and beauty is at length 

 filled up. So in architecture, the tetra-style portico can never look large, 

 though, in St. Peter's, the columns have eight feet in diameter. The Heca- 

 tompedon, burnt by the Persians, was not inferior in the scale of its parts to 

 the present Parthenon, but Ictinus judged that, by increasing the number of 

 parts — making that octo-style which had been hexa-style only— greater 

 magnificence would result. 



The temple of the giants, at Agrigentum (hepta-style) was the largest 

 Doric of antiquity, but to give it all its value, a number of new features, 

 never seen before, accompany its increased growth and vastness. It is raised 

 on a platform of many steps, a base of novel design surrounds the colmuns, 

 and these vast masses themselves, each a tower of thirteen feet in diameter, 

 built of many stones, told by its many parts and its elaborate construction 

 the cost and grandeur of the undertaking. So the columns at Pcestum have 

 twenty-four instead of the usual twenty flutings ; in short, examples are infi- 

 nite to show that, to convey the full effect of real magnitude, an artificial 

 magnitude must be superadded, or it is lost labour. 



Gradation and repetition of features of the same general resemblance in 

 various sizes, the major and the minor, are main sources of magnitude ; the 

 artist will see, in the satellites surrounding the planet Jupiter, the best reason 

 for the title of the Father of the Gods ; the western towers of St. Paul's give 

 magnitude to the dome. The same principle was to have been applied to 

 St. Peter's, but the western towers fell down. In the admirable church of 

 the Salute at Venice, the minor dome over the high altar, and again the still 

 smaller towers accompanying this, are foils to the great dome. Byron ad- 

 mirably enforces the number of parts : — 



" Thou seest not all; but piecemeal thou must break, 

 To separate contemplation the great whole ; 

 And as the ocean many bays will make, 

 That ask the eye— so here condense thy soul 

 To more immediate objects, and controul 

 Thy thoughts, until thy mind hath got by heart 

 Its eloquent proportions, and unroll 

 In mighty graduations, part by part, 

 The glory which at once upon thee did not dart." 



Vhilde Harold, c. iv, v. 157. 



So Palladio (as already remarked) characterized his style by the inter- 

 penetration of the larger order by a smaller. 



In decoration we are careful to put a small scroll in juxta-position to the 

 larger, to give its full effect ; and so the painter, to give size to his principal 

 figures, interposes women and children in various gradations ; the wreath or 

 swag which shall contain flowers or fruit, all of the same size, will be mean, 

 or look like a string of onions ; the whole secret of proportion and whole 

 purpose of magnificence is attained, by satellites, and by gradation of the 

 major and the minor. 



With reference to the second proposition, the consideration of the point 

 of view of architectural works, the ancients, as has been already observed, 

 were consummate masters, and cannot be too carefully studied. The labour 

 of the architect is vain, if he miscalculates the point of view, and the pic- 

 ture which he is to present on the retina of the spectator. As well might 

 the painter consent to a had light for his work, as the architect be careless 

 on this point. The genius loci will insist upon a peculiar composition ; each 

 position requires its own adaptation ; we should have proper things in proper 

 places. A design good in one place may fail in another, and the unskilful 

 approach and point of view may ruin the best scheme. It is not enough to 

 be right, but to show that you are so : the "/aire valoir " is a fine economy 

 which runs through the architecture of life, as well as of every step in brick 

 and mortar. The architect must be well versed in this part of optics : the 

 synoptic, the eusyuoptic, the deceptio visits, should be his constant observa- 

 tion ; like a skilful general be must manage and manoeuvre his masses to im- 

 pose upon the spectator, and by their skilful disposition he may often gain 

 that ascendancy which his real forces may not warrant. A familiar instance 

 of this is seen at St. Paul's, and often practised upon the green-horn mason, 

 who visits London for the first time. Of the two orders which decorate the 

 exterior, the lower one forms the great order of the interior, in the same 

 precise dimension; but the angle of view in the interior being so much 

 larger, the spectator is persuaded of its larger dimension. The roguish cice- 

 rone engages the novice in dispute on this question, enforced by a bet, which 

 on proof is always to Lis disadvantage and the penalty of his pot of beer. 



Sometimes accident does more for us than wit. St. Paul's, constrained, 

 and crowded amidst narrow streets, produces on the unsophisticated a mag- 



nitude and interest which would be lost if the pedants had their way, and 

 large areas and terraces were to expose it from Farringdon Street and the 

 Thames. 



While considering magnitude, we must not forget that (the most difficult 

 of all) which arises from greatness of conception — a quality which every 

 one habituated to contemplate fine buildings, must often have been impressed 

 with. But much more the ingenious architect, who in his practice has had 

 opportunities of comparing his own design with those of others more able 

 than himself, and still more in canvassing the various modes in which a work 

 might be performed, will remark the difference between one mind and ano- 

 ther. He will find all the moral qualities of the artist exhibited in his per- 

 formance. " By their works ve shall know them ;" greatness of soul, or 

 contractedness of spirit, a folly or a vice, the specious, the clumsy, the re- 

 fined, the honest, are written in characters quite legible to those who have 

 learnt to decipher the language of design. 



We might show the character of Wren in the lineaments of his work — 

 sublime in his mathematical attainments, clear, original and comprehensive 

 in his combinations above all men; but in his exterior unobtrusive and timid, 

 small and elaborate, concealing the art (as Nature does) revealed only on our 

 nearer examination to our wonder and delight. We plainly see "the Nestor 

 of Athens, not only in his profession the greatest man of that age, but who 

 had given more proof of it than any other man ever did ; he was in a 

 manner the inventor of the use of mechanical powers; and they record of 

 him that he was so prodigiously exact, that, for experiment's sake, he built 

 an edifice of great beauty, and seeming strength, but so contrived as to bear 

 only its own weight — so that it fell with no other pressure than the settling 

 of a Wren.' But such was Nestor's modesty, that his art and skill were 

 soon disregarded, for want of that manner with which men of the world 

 support and assert the merit of their own performances : and for want of 

 that natural freedom and audacity, necessary in the commerce of life, his 

 personal modesty overthrew all his public actions." — Parentalia, p. 341. 



In the works of Jones we see the beautiful and specious, the sensual 

 beauty of the tasteful artist, but no mathematics, no sublime combinations 

 of structure, but generous, and free, and highly ornamental, we discover the 

 director of the masques of the splendid court of the Stuarts — the " Marquis 

 Would-be." 



In Vanbrugh we have the dramatist throughout ; his theatre and scenery 

 are everywhere, imposing with a pompous grandiose, the spectator is at first 

 captivated, till he peeps behind the scene, and the illusion vanishes. 



In short, it is plain that the architect must have moral as well as intellec- ■ 

 tual qualities, to acquit himself duly of the high charge intrusted to him ; 

 and no argument can more effectually convince the student, that in ordering 

 his studies he must first order his own character and conduct; and that no- 

 thing can come from him of great and noble, unless from a pure fountain 

 and a well-regulated stream. We must endeavour to sustain that rank in 

 society which both sacred and classical antiquity have assigned to the archi- 

 tect (see Isaiah, c. iii. v. 1, 2, 3 ; and Cic. Off. p. 42.) 



But an important principle in the assthetical as well as in the real ends 

 and purposes of our art is solidity, the result of equilibrium between the 

 forces of gravity. Nothing can be beautiful which is not strong, or is not 

 adequately strong for its purpose. The impression of duration is indispen- 

 sable to that satisfaction and repose which the mind seeks in a well-ordered 

 work of architecture. According to the simple notions of the ancients, it 

 was the essence of the grandiose and beautiful. The temple of the eternal 

 was to breathe the spirit of eternity — strong in its entire structure, it was te 

 be strong also in its component parts, its " great stones." Energy, menta 

 and physical, and stability, were the expressions most desired in architec- 

 ture ; voids were to be above voids, solids above solids ; the area even of the 

 supports, and the incumbent weight (orthographically considered) in most 

 instances of the finest temples are, or approach to, equality. 



To this end the whole composition of the edifice was pyramidal, the sides 

 being inclined (as has already been observed) in every style of architecture 

 known to us. The quoins and piers of the angles which inclose the work 

 are larger than those towards the centre; and we may be sure that the ex- 

 pression of strength and duration given to a building is often of itself suffi- 

 cient for beauty, without other adventitious ornament ; as we may also be 

 certain that the want of this quality cannot be repaired by any expedient 

 which the architect may apply. In fact, the qualities of solidity and equi- 

 poise impose ou the understanding the same awe and conviction with reason, 

 justice, and truth; as inspiring that security, stability, and peace, without 

 which all is flimsy conceit and vain ambition. 



But this rational propensity is sometimes in jeopardy from the love of the 

 marvellous and the exhibition of skill in the artificer, from whom, while we 

 deprecate the hazard, we cannot withhold our applause ; and if assured, 

 either by the nature of the material or the quality of the structure, of the 

 security the mind demands, we are easily reconciled to the wonder. But 

 this temptation is often a severe trial to the ambitious architect; and without 

 a sober taste, chastened by modesty and reason, it may be often more than 

 he can resist. 



We delight in the suspended arch of a bridge or in the enormous vault 

 which covers the Pantheon, or the baths of Caracalla, or the Temple of 

 Peace. We are reconciled to those of the Gothic cathedral, so long as their 

 stone props or buttresses continue to perform their duty. Not so in the 

 grove at the east end of Salisbury Cathedral, which, like the banyan tree, 

 seems to be composed of pendants from the roof, indifferent dimensions, 



