Thememoranda which form the basis of the following Essay have beenthrown together during the preparation of one of the sections of thethird volume of "Modern Painters." [A] I once thought of giving them a more expanded form; but theirutility, such as it may be, would probably be diminished by fartherdelay in their publication, more than it would be increased bygreater care in their arrangement. Obtained in every case by personalobservation, there may be among them some details valuable even tothe experienced architect; but with respect to the opinions foundedupon them I must be prepared to bear the charge of impertinence whichcan hardly but attach to the writer who assumes a dogmatical tone inspeaking of an art he has never practised. There are, however, casesin which men feel too keenly to be silent, and perhaps too stronglyto be wrong; I have been forced into this impertinence; and havesuffered too much from the destruction or neglect of the architectureI best loved, and from the erection of that which I cannot love, toreason cautiously respecting the modesty of my opposition to theprinciples which have induced the scorn of the one, or directed thedesign of the other. And I have been the less careful to modify theconfidence of my statements of principles, because in the midst ofthe opposition and uncertainty of our architectural systems, it seemsto me that there is something grateful in any positive opinion,though in many points wrong, as even weeds are useful that grow on abank of sand.
Everyapology is, however, due to the reader, for the hasty and imperfectexecution of the plates. Having much more serious work in hand, anddesiring merely to render them illustrative of my meaning, I havesometimes very completely failed even of that humble aim; and thetext, being generally written before the illustration was completed,sometimes navely describes as sublime or beautiful, features whichthe plate represents by a blot. I shall be grateful if the readerwill in such cases refer the expressions of praise to theArchitecture, and not to the illustration.
Sofar, however, as their coarseness and rudeness admit, the plates arevaluable; being either copies of memoranda made upon the spot, or(Plates IX. and XI.) enlarged and adapted from Daguerreotypes, takenunder my own superintendence. Unfortunately, the great distance fromthe ground of the window which is the subject of Plate IX. renderseven the Daguerreotype indistinct; and I cannot answer for theaccuracy of any of the mosaic details, more especially of those whichsurround the window, and which I rather imagine, in the original, tobe sculptured in relief. The general proportions are, however,studiously preserved; the spirals of the shafts are counted, and theeffect of the whole is as near that of the thing itself, as isnecessary for the purposes of illustration for which the plate isgiven. For the accuracy of the rest I can answer, even to the cracksin the stones, and the number of them; and though the looseness ofthe drawing, and the picturesque character which is necessarily givenby an endeavor to draw old buildings as they actually appear, mayperhaps diminish their credit for architectural veracity, they willdo so unjustly.
Thesystem of lettering adopted in the few instances in which sectionshave been given, appears somewhat obscure in the references, but itis convenient upon the whole. The line which marks the direction ofany section is noted, if the section be symmetrical, by a singleletter; and the section itself by the same letter with a line overit, a.. But if the section be unsymmetrical, its direction isnoted by two letters, a. a. a at its extremities; and the actual section by the same letters withlines over them, .. ,at the corresponding extremities.
Thereader will perhaps be surprised by the small number of buildings towhich reference has been made. But it is to be remembered that thefollowing chapters pretend only to be a statement of principles,illustrated each by one or two examples, not an essay on Europeanarchitecture; and those examples I have generally taken either fromthe buildings which I love best, or from the schools of architecturewhich, it appeared to me, have been less carefully described thanthey deserved. I could as fully, though not with the accuracy andcertainty derived from personal observation, have illustrated theprinciples subsequently advanced, from the architecture of Egypt,India, or Spain, as from that to which the reader will find hisattention chiefly directed, the Italian Romanesque and Gothic. But myaffections, as well as my experience, led me to that line of richlyvaried and magnificently intellectual schools, which reaches, like ahigh watershed of Christian architecture, from the Adriatic to theNorthumbrian seas, bordered by the impure schools of Spain on the onehand, and of Germany on the other: and as culminating points andcentres of this chain, I have considered, first, the cities of theVal d'Arno, as representing the Italian Romanesque and pure ItalianGothic; Venice and Verona as representing the Italian Gothic coloredby Byzantine elements; and Rouen, with the associated Norman cities,Caen, Bayeux, and Coutances, as representing the entire range ofNorthern architecture from the Romanesque to Flamboyant.
Icould have wished to have given more examples from our early EnglishGothic; but I have always found it impossible to work in the coldinteriors of our cathedrals, while the daily services, lamps, andfumigation of those upon the Continent, render them perfectly safe.In the course of last summer I undertook a pilgrimage to the EnglishShrines, and began with Salisbury, where the consequence of a fewdays' work was a state of weakened health, which I may be permittedto name among the causes of the slightness and imperfection of thepresent Essay.
Someyears ago, in conversation with an artist whose works, perhaps,alone, in the present day, unite perfection of drawing withresplendence of color, the writer made some inquiry respecting thegeneral means by which this latter quality was most easily to beattained. The reply was as concise as it was comprehensive"Knowwhat you have to do, and do it"comprehensive, not only asregarded the branch of art to which it temporarily applied, but asexpressing the great principle of success in every direction of humaneffort; for I believe that failure is less frequently attributable toeither insufficiency of means or impatience of labor, than to aconfused understanding of the thing actually to be done; andtherefore, while it is properly a subject of ridicule, and sometimesof blame, that men propose to themselves a perfection of any kind,which reason, temperately consulted, might have shown to beimpossible with the means at their command, it is a more dangerouserror to permit the consideration of means to interfere with ourconception, or, as is not impossible, even hinder our acknowledgmentof goodness and perfection in themselves. And this is the morecautiously to be remembered; because, while a man's sense andconscience, aided by Revelation, are always enough, if earnestlydirected, to enable him to discover what is right, neither his sense,nor conscience, nor feeling, are ever enough, because they are notintended, to determine for him what is possible. He knows neither hisown strength nor that of his fellows, neither the exact dependence tobe placed on his allies nor resistance to be expected from hisopponents. These are questions respecting which passion may warp hisconclusions, and ignorance must limit them; but it is his own faultif either interfere with the apprehension of duty, or theacknowledgment of right. And, as far as I have taken cognizance ofthe causes of the many failures to which the efforts of intelligentmen are liable, more especially in matters political, they seem to memore largely to spring from this single error than from all others,that the inquiry into the doubtful, and in some sort inexplicable,relations of capability, chance, resistance, and inconvenience,invariably precedes, even if it do not altogether supersede, thedetermination of what is absolutely desirable and just. Nor is it anywonder that sometimes the too cold calculation of our powers shouldreconcile us too easily to our shortcomings, and even lead us intothe fatal error of supposing that our conjectural utmost is in itselfwell, or, in other words, that the necessity of offences renders theminoffensive.